Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charley didn't think Wally would get a job. Or, at least not at a plant store. It doesn't seem like he has a green thumb, but he needs a car, so any job works.

He walks into "Lush Habit" early thursday. The door bell jingles like a wind chime when he pushes the door open. It smells like lavender and wet soil, a nice contrast to the very strong weed smell from across the street. Wally's hunched over at the register, wearing a green apron and looking at a care manual like it's in Russian.

"Char, my man, my boy, my saviour." Wally says, clearly relieved. "I really, really need you to cover for me. I wanna go see Maddie. Pretty sure she thinks I died."

"You've been working here a week," Charley laughs. "You can survive."

"I can't, you love me, right? It's just 20 minutes, 30. Tops. You'll barely have to do anyth-"

A very firm voice cuts in from the opposite side of the store.

"Wally, stop asking your friends to do your job."

Charley looks over.

A lanky, blonde, very shaggy guy is leaning against a ladder, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The early sunlight cuts through the windows, glimmering against his hair like a mirror. He has tired eyes, a focused expression, and a flowery name tag. something from an indie movie that you have to go 20 miles to see in any theatre. Charley's brain flat lines for a few seconds.

"Who's that?"

Wally groans, turning back to his manual.

"Yuri. Total fun vacuum. He won't let me see my girlfriend. He sucks."

Charley watches Yuri dissapear down an aisle of hanging plants, not really doing anything. He reaches out to play around with some plant pots. "He's cute."

Wally pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nope." He says blankly. "You can't flirt with the plant guy. You don't know about plants."

Charley scoffs. "He wouldn't like me anyway. He's suave." He looks up at Wally, expecting an answer, but he gets a shrug. "I can help out. If you want. I'm sure Rhonda and Mina didn't wanna help, but I like it in here. It's cozy. Plus you can go see Maddie."
Wally looks up at him with a certain expression. Something that can't be put into one word- but rather- a you-just-wanna-flirt-with-my-supervisor-whilst-im-gone look. That's technically one word. "Okay. You won't be doing anything... Dead in here anyway."

Wally puts down the care manual, taking off his apron and throwing it at Charley. He beelines it for the door, yelling out to Yuri. "Hey Yur-ee, I'm going to see my girlfriend! Charley's going to take over for me- you can't say no!" By the time Yuri can react, he's out the door.

"Bu- what..." Yuri says, coming out of hiding to just stare at the door. He turns on his heel to Charley. "You can... I don't know. Move the soil delivery to the back." Charley could swear his voice brightens a bit, but that's probably just because Wally is gone. Charley gets right to it, setting his sights to a few bags of soil by the door.

"So... Wally's not a very good employee, huh?" He tries to strike up a conversation, not like he'd ever get Yuri, and it'd be weird to date his friend's supervisor anyway, but he could at least talk to him.

"Hm."

Not a talker. Okay. That isn't really helpful.

He speaks up again while lumbering a bag of soil, "He's okay when you get to know him. He's not a... Plant guy. He's sporty."

Yuri doesn't respond at first. He's crouched at a display, carefully trimming a Basil plant with small silver scissors. His focus is surgical. Just as Charley is going to speak again, Yuri speaks.

"He keeps overwatering the succulents. Says they 'look thirsty'."

Charley snorts. Yuri's not looking at him, but Charley wants to believe he's smiling.

"You work here a lot?" He immediately regrets how he worded it. "Well, obviously, you work here, but I mean-"

"Full time." He cuts in. Quiet, clipped, but not unkind.

Charley nods. "That's cool. I couldn't keep a cactus alive to save my life..."

"Because people treat them like they aren't real. If you think of them like people, you'd pay more attention to them."

Yuri dissapears to the back with a tray of seed starters, leaving the conversation, if you can call it that, open. He talks about plants more passionately than he's ever heard anyone speak about anything. He pulls out his phone to text Wally.

- He's cool. In a weird way. -

Wally sends back just a thumbs up.

He slips his phone back in his pocket. The store's quiet, not horrible quiet, but not comfortable quiet either.

He gets back to moving the soil, his sneakers screeching against the ground as he drags the heavier bags. He steals glances every few minutes- more like seconds- of Yuri's scuffed up boots, faux-suede jacket, well groomed facial hair, anything his eyes choose to land on really.

"Hey," Yuri's voice ends his thoughts. "You're pretty good at this."

Charley looks up, startled. "Thanks... I... Stack things a lot..."

Yuri tilts his head, wiping his hands on his apron. "Huh." He does a chewing motion on nothing. "Are you doing this just so Wally can see his girlfriend? Serious?"

Charley hesitates. "Yeah. Well, there isn't really anything else. But I like it in here. It's calm."

Yuri raises an eyebrow. "I think it's calm because no one comes in here."

Charley shrugs.

Yuri chuckles. Charley didn't even know he could chuckle, or that he found anything funny.

They eventually fall into a quiet rhythm, Charley starts alphabetically sorting seed packets, even though no one asked him to, and Yuri hums something to himself, the Twin Peaks theme, maybe? Something whimsical.

"You can go, if you want. You aren't being payed so you don't need to stay."

"No. Wally'll be back soon, and anyway, these petunias are whispering to me."                                                                 

"Bad sign. You'll get too into plants, maybe even plant guy territory." Yuri says, looking away from Charley. He has no inflection, no emotion.

"That's tragic. My reputation won't recover."

Yuri leans against the counter. "Could be worse."

The door jingles again. Wally stumbles in, looking triumphant and windblown. He's holding a smoothie and grinning like he won the lottery.

"Maddie was so happy to see me." He declares. "And you're both welcome" He wiggles his eyebrows.

Charley rolls his eyes. "You were gone for half an hour."

"Yeah, but I sprinted here. That has to make up for something."

Yuri stares at him, unimpressed. "You left halfway through your shift. Again."

Wally holds up the smoothie like it's a peace offering. "Got you this as payment.'

Yuri sighs and walks to the back without a word. When he's gone, Wally elbows Charley. "Soooo, did you talk? Did you flirt with him?"

"Sort of. To the talking." He pauses. "I moved soil."

"That's... Something."

"Maybe."

Charley slumps into a stool next to Wally. Wally's back to the care manual, flipping through it without actually absorbing anything.

"Do you know how many types of fern there are? There are so many. Gggggoooooohhhhhddddd.... I hate it here. I can't handle another speech about leaf bruising." Wally rubs his forehead like he has a headache. He probably does. Charley looks back at Yuri, he's hunched by a tall plant, like he doesn't want to exist, his shoulders pushed forward as if it isn't 40 degrees in the store. "And Yuri scares me. I'm shocked he hasn't murdered me and dumped my body in the ocean for leaving."

Charley huffs. "He isn't scary... Just... Intense. Very, very intense."

"That's code for terrifying."
On cue, Yuri walks up to them- walks up to Wally- brushing his fringe out of his eyes with a dirt covered hand. He tilts a hanging snake plant so he can see it.

"You didn't water this one."

Wally stiffens. "I was going to. Eventually."

"Were you? Or was your friend going to do it for you?"

Yuri tilts his head toward Charley, before walking off again to god knows where. The silence he leaves feels emptier than what was already there.

"You need to do your job" Charley says, looking up at the plant. "I'm gonna... Keep moving the soil bags."

Charley lugs himself up, dragging one of the especially heavy bags over to the backroom. He looks over his shoulder to see Yuri rearranging flower labels by colour. Like it matters. Like all of this matters. By the time he reaches where Yuri is, Yuri's halfway done.

"You don't need to do that, like I said. Wally's job."

Charley nods. "Yea, but it's fine. I like it. Relaxing."

Yuri hums- not agreeing, not arguing either.

"I can see why Wally keeps ditching." Charley adds after q moment of thinking.

Yuri raises an eyebrow. "That a compliment?"

"More like... Commentary. You can make it a compliment if you want."

Yuri's mouth twitches. Just slightly. But it's enough for Charley to catch onto. That's a win.

"So... Do you name the plants?" Charley asks genuinely, lingering near the back room door in case he needs to escape.

Yuri barely glances over. "What?"

"Gerald the cactus, Bobby the Basil, things like that."

There's a short pause. Yuri tilts his head away like he's hiding a smile. "No."

"Ah. Got it."

Yuri straightens (ha) out the lines of labels. "I just think if I name on I'll feel more guilty than usual if it dies."

"All of them seem fine for now.. Unless something lights on fire in the next five minutes."

"Unlikely." Yuri says, not looking up. Wally waltzes over. Total cockblock.

"Am I allowed to leave or do you need to call my mom for not doing my job?' Wally says, looking over his shoulder at the door.

"You just got back. Do your job. And I don't have your mom's number."

Wally waves a hand. "I meant metaphorically. Emotionally. Spiritually. How's Charley doing at my job?"

"Well. Better than you."

"What? What did I do wrong?" Wally says, mouth agape.

"You dropped a whole bag of soil onto the heater on your first day."

"It wasn't on. You won't appreciate how hard it is for me to work around greenery"
Yuri waves him away, turning his attention back to Charley. "Next time you get a plant... Try talking to it, it sound stupid but it humanises it. And helps it grow. Maybe you won't kill the thing."

Charley just watches him. Stares even. His mouth is open like he's going to speak, but nothing comes out.

"You should probably get going anyway." Yuri says while nodding slowly.

"Right."

Charley turns on his heel to leave, the door making that annoying chime again. Charley puts his head in his hands once he's turned the corner.

"What was that... He is not into me. He barely even spoke.' He groans.

He is not being realistic.

Chapter Text

Charley's apartment was quiet. Too quiet. He kicks off kis sneakers and collapses into the couch face first. His phone falls out of his pocket and drops somewhere near a throw pillow but he doesn't go for it. Instead, he screams into the pillow. Multiple times. It doesn't help.

"Why did I say the flowers were whispering to me? Why did I say anything?"

His phone buzzes. Twice.

He rolls himself onto his back, and fumbles for his phone. He sees the notification as soon as it turns on.

Wally - Hey Mr. Miracle-Gto, u ded?

Charley rubs his temples. Fuck this. He sends a "😐".

Wally - Im going to trivia tomorrow and I don't wanna go alone so ur coming with me, 2pm!!!

Charley sighs, throwing his phone across the room. He hates trivia and Wally knows that. But it might be a way to get his brain off of Yuri. He'd jump off of a cliff if it got his brain off of Yuri.

Yuri. What a name. He'll have to look into the meaning of it.

Tomorrow. Maybe. He needs to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Charley jolts awake, sorry, awake? When did he go to sleep? He turns to look at the clock on the wall. 1pm. Holy shit, he had to meet Wally in an hour. He rolls off of the couch, landing on the floor with a loud thud. He'd usually freak out from the pain, but he doesn't have time today. Charley scrambles to his feet, trying to quickly get ready.

"God... Stupid... Oversleeping...' He grumbles to himself as he runs around his apartment. Eventually he gets himself out of the door.

"You're a mess, dude." Wally says with a grin. Why is Wally here?

"Why are you here?" Well that's what I said you can't copy me.

"Cus I knew you'd oversleep like you always do"

Charley doesn't reply. He just gets to walking. Wally is talking, Charley can see it out of the corner of his eye, but all of his words blur into one. Charley would rather do anything than trivia. If 'anything' is going to see the plants again. A certain plant in particular. The door squeaks loudly when Wally pulls it open. Really loudly. A rush of cold air punches Charley in the face as the door swings open. He should've worn a jacket. Him and Wally make their way down the street, luckily, he knows where they're going. Every week they have trivia at the bar just down the road from his apartment building. Maddie used to go every single time and she'd beg him to go with her. That's probably why Wally's going. He wants to seem smart for her.

They reach the bar after what feels like 2 years. It's not a big building, about the same size as Charley's apartment, but it's never busy so that's not an issue. Wally seems a little too giddy for this, like he's hiding something. He's always hiding something.

When they walk in, Charley's eyes can barely look around before they auto-fix on a certain brown-eyed plant dad sipping some fancy looking drink at the bar.

"Wow! Charley, look who's here! I never could have expected this!" Wally says, jogging over to Yuri, sounding conspicuous enough that even if Charley thought this was pure coincidence, Wally's tone would put some doubt in him. Yuri looks up from his drink, giving a little half wave. He doesn't seem to notice Charley, but Charley doesn't really want him to. There are more people than usual, maybe around 2 and a half dozen, so he blends in pretty well.

"Charley!" Wally. Damn. "Come on, dude!"

Charley isn't really there, but he drags himself over nonetheless. Yuri perks up, straightening his back slightly. He puts down his drink, which is half finished now, on the counter. He clears his throat.

"Hey." Short, simple, sickening. Charley slips himself into a stool. "Glad you're here. Though, Walter didn't say anything about it." Nothing. No emotion. God damn.

"Hm. Whatcha drinking?" Charley says, leaning on the counter, trying to seem not nervous.

"Verdant funeral." Yuri says, matter-of-factly. "It tastes horrible."

Charley's mouth hangs open slightly, showing his canine teeth. All he can muster is a dragged out "Yeah". What's the point of drinking it if it's bad? Seemingly, Yuri can sense his nervousness so he adds:

"Gets you drunk though. Eventually." It's funny, Charley thinks so, and Wally seemingly does too, because he snorts a little. Verdant Funeral is a... It's a name. Definitely. The drink smells a bit like a funeral. Do funerals smell like sage, cucumber and absinthe? He's never been to a funeral.This is hell. He really wishes he could leave, but that'd make Wally mad at him, and make any chance he had with Yuri evaporate immediately. If there was a chance.

Yuri shifts in his seat, elbows resting on the counter as he swirls what's left of his drink. His ring clinks against the glass, something that seems too delicate for someone so intense. Charley watches him for much too long, but snaps back to reality when Yuri speaks again.

"You ever been here before? For trivia?" He clearly isn't too interested, because he's avoiding Charley's gaze.

"Once. It went fine."

Wally leans to the side to grin. "Not true. He got in an argument with the host about the release date of Ghost."

"I was right about that." Charley insists. "And the host was a jerk. Anyway... You always drink that Verdant, uh, whatever."

Yuri picks the drink up again, he doesn't sip from it, just holds it. "Nah. But it's hard to make and the bartender owes me money, so I have to do what I can to make him suffer."

Huh. Charley should probably push, but he's too tired for that. Instead he just stares at the condensation on the glass. Anywhere safer to look at than, well, Yuri's eyes, or mouth, or neck. God. Breaking his thoughts, Wally slaps down two folded trivia sheets in front of them.

"Alright, my babies, team name is the end zone. Like football." Just as quickly, he dissapears somewhere.

Yuri stays quiet for a while, just clicks a pen and starts doodling on the trivia sheet like a bored highschooler. Charley peeks, but doesn't speak. It's good, clean, minimal. Everything about him is clean and minimal, everything that makes Charley feel like a box of discount cereal.

Yuri passes him the pen. "You do pop culture, I'll do science. Wally will probably do sports. And no more team names."
"That was Wally's-"

"No more."

The host starts speaking. Charley isn't focusing at all, that won't help at all when the actual trivia starts, but Yuri seems locked into what they're saying, so he's sure Yuri'll explain it. The first round eventually starts, and the theme is "90's pop", which is something Charley is great at. He makes stupid, drawn out jokes in his head that he'd love to say if he wasn't too scared. As Charley's answering the questions, Yuri scribbles something on his own trivia sheet. Something pros and cons. Probably considering whether to get a dog or something. People regret getting pets, they can be loud, dirty, annoying sometimes, so it's always good to think. He leans in, trying to read the list from over Yuri's shoulder. There's only one thing under cons: 'too different'.

Charley realises he should focus on the trivia, and puts his head back into it. It's not that weird, Quinn insisted on making a pros/cons list when she and Rhonda got a ferret. He feels a pat on his back.

" Yo,' Wally says. "How's it goin'?" Wally leans over Charley's shoulder, glancing over the sheet. He trails his finger over a few words. He quips. "I don't know what any of this means" Before walking off again.

"These drinks do not work." Yuri speaks. Putting down his empty glass. "They just taste bad."

"Stop drinking them then" Charley challenges.

"I mean, I've had worse." Yuri runs his tongue along his teeth. "Plus most of the alcohol in this place sucks ass. Not like I'm gonna find anything better."

Charley shrugs. They're barely two rounds in by this point, and it's dragging on. Charley's brain is fried and between having to focus on the trivia and trying not to focus on Yuri, he's one minute away from an aneurysm. So, when Yuri's offering to buy him a drink (who said chivalry is dead) he needs to take it. The drink he gets is floral, and warm. Gross. He sips it slowly, watching Wally argue with the host about the wording of a question. Charley doesn't necessarily ask what's in the drink, mostly because he trusts Yuri and even if he didn't, Wally is protective enough to not let anything bad happen.

"I'll pay you back for this. The drink." Charley says, feeling a tad warm. Maybe from said drink or because he's blushing.
"Nah. It's fine." Yuri murmurs. "Should probably get you some food, too, you don't wanna drink on an empty stomach." He walks off for barely a minute and comes back with a small basket of nachos. He slides them in front of Charley and slouches into his seat again.

Charley picks at the nachos, not too interested in them. They're stale, but Yuri's eyes flickering over to him, keeping tabs, make him want to eat them. The host asks a question about geography- rivers, something- but it washes over him. He scribbles down a guess, not caring if it's even slightly close.

"Hey. You good?" Yuri's voice is slightly tired. Quiet enough that Wally doesn't catch it.

"Yeah. Just... Thinking hard."

Yuri furrows his eyebrows, pushing the nachos closer to Charley with his knuckles. Charley hums- acknowledging- and forces himself to grab one. His drink settles in his chest like thick syrup. He's not drunk, just tipsy. Yuri looks at him with a crooked smile.

"You're glowing."

Charley nearly chokes on a half chewed nacho. "I'm not glowing"

"You're kinda glowing."

"It's the lighting."

Yuri snorts into his drink, the first time he's laughed all evening. It's brief. But Charley feels it in his chest. Yuri's shoulders relax a bit more, for a second, it's like they're not in a loud bar. Might just be the alcohol talking.

By the time the trivia ends, Charley, and probably Yuri too, wants to slam his head against a table. Wally seems satisfied despite them coming fifth. Charley stretches, slow and a little wobbly.

Yuri straightens up his jacket. "You eaten anything real today?"

"Does coffee count?" Charley says, yawning.

"Not even a little."

Yuri hesitates for a second, then shrugs. "You wanna come back to mine? Dawn's probably making food. She's my roommate."

Charley blinks. "To your apartment?"

"Yeah. It's ten minutes from here. I'll pack you some up if it's weird for you, but you need something warm."

Charley's too tired to argue, and something other than bar nachos or instant ramen seems nice. "Sure."

/ / / / / / / /

Yuri's apartment is cozy. Dim. Mismatched furniture, a weird amount of lamps, and the smell of laundry detergent. He's still taking it all in when a red-headed woman walks out of one of the rooms wearing a tie-dye shirt, shorts and a bandana lazily tied around her wrist.

"Hi!" She says, almost entirely to Charley.

Charley freezes, something dropping in his chest. He nods, stiff. "Hey.."

Yuri butts in "Sit wherever. I'll make you something."

"I don't know you, you're not the new mailman." Dawn says, opening the fridge to drink orange juice straight from the carton.

"I don't think so." Charley says as she puts back the orange juice. She just nods, humming a tune he doesn't quite recognise.

"Welcome to the jungle." She says, waving the hand with the bandana at him vaguely.

"Dawn, that's my bandana." Yuri says calmly. She looks down at her arm.

"Oh. Weird. Sorry." Yuri hands Charley a plate and moves to untie the bandana from Dawn's wrist. Charley mutters a thank you but his mind is already spinning. He sits, food untouched, as he watches Dawn sink into the couch, playing with a bit of fluff from a pillow.

He doesn't want to ask.

But dear god, does he want to know.

He tries not to glance too obviously at Dawn, who's shifting around the couch.

"So, uh" Charley says, breaking the silence. "It just you two here?"

"Uh-huh. Me and Dawn." Yuri affirms as he gets two glasses from the cupboard. He says it so casually, like it just makes sense. It probably does to him.

Dawn speaks up again. "And he's easy to be around, because he's well formed. He's a human but he's really human. If a mannequin grew morals."

Okay what the hell that's something you say about a boyfriend not a roommate.

He's so stupid. How could he have not seen it before? They live together, alone, and are probably always like this, stupid wearing each other's clothes and being all cuddly and all that stupid stuff couples do.

How could he have not seen it?

Chapter Text

Charley wakes up with a sharp pain behind his eyes, and the feeling that someone slammed him in the chest with a snow showel. He lays there for a while. A long while. Staring at the ceiling like it has the answers to life written on it. He isn't hungover- not really, but the headache rings in his ears like a warning. His mouth is filled with the taste of regret and flowers. He reaches for his phone, checking the time. No messages. He hovers his finger over Wally's contact, that default profile icon staring at him like it'd blink before he does. He can't message Wally. Or at least not about Yuri. What'd he even say?

"Found out your coworker is a major asshole, super thanks, 5 stars." No. That's desperate.

He locks his phone and throws it against a comforter. It bounces off of it and hits the floor. He sits up slowly, head swimming, and forces himself out of bed. He shuffles into the kitchen, opening the fridge, hoping to find something that could get his mind off of yesterday, or ease the ache of anxiety in his stomach. Leftover rice, Tomato. Old lemon. Ground coffee? Why's that in the fridge? He closes the door.

Distraction. He needs a distraction. He starts with laundry. He sorts out a pile, puts it in the machine, turns it on. Forgets the detergent. Starts over. One of his shirts he doesn't even put in the pile, it smells like the plant store, green. And like the morning sun. He just throws it to the side.

Dishes next. There aren't many, but he thoroughly scrubs the same plate 3 times over before realising he's zoning out. He can hear his upstairs neighbours playing music and stomping around like upstairs neighbours do.

He wanders to the windows, half heartedly wiping them down with his sleeve. He leans against the window, making new smudges. Cars pass. Birds fight over something in a tree. The world moves. The ache hasn't stopped. Just quietened down, like it knows when to pounce. Like when Charley is at his weakest, it'll come back full throttle. Just when he's about to fall asleep against the window, he hears his phone ding from the bedroom. Dear god. He drags himself to the bedroom, having to get on the floor to search for his phone. He opens it to see one message. His stomach flips.

Yuri: Do spiders feel guilty when they do things that make humans upset?

Charley blinks. Was he not obviously uncomfortable enough yesterday? Why is this guy messaging him

Charley: is this for you

Yuri: there was a spider in my mug. Had to put it outside.

Right.

Charley: does it get severance?

Yuri: dawn dropped an Oreo on the floor again a few days ago. I'm sure there were some crumbs for it.

Charley stares at the message for a moment too long. The casual mention of her, the way it rolls like second nature. Like she is part of the daily rhythm. Of course she is. She lives with him. Again. It's probably a common thing. Domestic. Cute. Familiar. It's enough. Not exactly proof, but it's enough for Charley to just know that they're dating. Or enough for Charley's chest to twist, like wringing out a dishcloth. He doesn't reply after that. He sets his phone down carefully, like it might break. The screen lights up again with a final message.

"Hope you're dealing with the hangover well, C."

Charley doesn't have it in him to answer.

There's a knock at the door. Then another, louder this time. Can he not catch a break? Charley stays perfectly still, hoping that if he's quiet enough whoever it is will assume he's not home, or dead, and go away.

"I can hear you sulking."

Fuckin Wally again. With a grunt, Charley shuffles to the door, unlocking it with all the enthusiasm of a Victorian ghost. He opens it just wide enough to peek out.

"Dude, did someone die in there?" He says, pushing past Charley before he can answer. "It smells like liquid soap." He looks over to the mess of water and soap and bowls by the sink and nods slightly.

"I didn't ask for a visit..." Charley murmurs.

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for a best friend who broods like a damp bat." He gestures grandly around the room. "But here we are."

Charley sits on the floor, head against the couch. Wally States at him for a moment- eyes going from fake indignation to real concern. He walks over, crouches down, and pokes Charley in the forehead.

"You have 10 minutes to tell me what's up before I start guessing and it gets real uncomfortable for the both of us." Charley just sighs. "You haven't been replying to my texts for hours, which for you is years."

Wally isn't exactly pushing, or at least his tone isn't pushy. His voice sounds sincere enough.

"I'm just tired."

"In general? Or of me? Because I'm not letting you lie here and rot." He says half jokingly.

He reaches over and tugs slightly on Charley's arm. "You gotta go out today man. Even if it's just walking around the block or standing outside of the plant store and yearning, you need to go out."

Charley rolls his eyes, nodding.

"That's my sad little cryptid." Charley throws a sock at his face.

Wally stands up, wandering over to the fridge and pulling it open. He looks wide eyed into the barren fridge before looking down at the floor and slamming it shut. "You need to go shopping man, you have nothing in that 'fridgerator. Criminal." He pauses. His eyes go thin.

"Is this about Yuri? Did he blow you off?" Wally asks, already sounding kind of pissed for him. He sits on the edge of the couch. "Bad first date? Damn. I know I should have chosen the museum, but that's boring."

"No, he didn't blow me off. He invited me back to his, but-" Wally interrupts, hitting Charley softly on the arm.

"He invited you back? Did you- well, uh- bond?" Wally says, leaning back in his seat.

"No. We didn't 'bond'. Because he has a girlfriend." Wally tilts his head in disbelief. "And she's hot. Like super hot. And they're perfect for each other, they both seem straight out of the 70s and she likes plants and he likes plants." As he rambles, Wally is chuckling to himself.

"Are you talking about Dawn?" Charley nods. Wally looks... Baffled. "Bro, I'm pretty sure she doesn't like dudes. She didn't in high school anyway."

Charley scoffs, smiling in a not very nice way. It's cold.

"Yeah. I'll believe it when I see it, 'cus she seemed pretty into him yesterday." His skin crawls when he lets her words run through his mind, that Yuri's 'well built'. Gross. He runs his hands down his face, drowning himself in his own embarrassment. "She was wearing his bandana. Roommates don't do that."

"She probably thought it was hers." He jolts back slightly, waving his hands. "And, wait, you've worn my clothes before, are we fucking- or- I'm sorry, dating?"

Charley's jaw drops. "She said he's well built!"

Wally leans back, then forward, then puts his arms on his knees, then rubs his temples. "One, she might just talk about her friends like that, two, she isn't into dudes"

Charley's jaw tightens. "He was so not into me at the bar anyway. He barely looked at me."

"I think he was nervous. Because you're thinking that this pretty guy is sitting across from you, and you may be nervous, but so is he."

Charley stares. Silent.

Wally stretches, back cracking slightly. He sighs, patting Charley on the back. "Well... If you wanna stop self sabotaging, feel free to come down to the shop." He clicks his tongue, leaving finally.

Charley looks up at the fridge. He rolls down to the floor, letting his limbs cover the cold wood. He really should go shopping.

/ / / / / / / / / / /

Charley's walking around a local grocery store, some expensive bullshit place, but it's close to his apartment and he doesn't wanna go far today.

He spots her whilst picking out some strawberries. She's just down the aisle, staring down some avocados. He debates leaving his basket behind and fleeing the store, because what would he say if she noticed him? What do you say to the girl who might be dating the guy you like? Just like she read his mind, she meets his eyes. Charley expects a cold glare, maybe a sharp turn of the heel, but her eyes light up like lightbulbs.

"Charley!" She speed walks over to him, the cheesiest smile on her face. "I didn't know you shopped here!"

"Uh... I don't. Usually. It's close to my apartment." Charley smiles, tense and weird. He takes a glance at her cart. Oatmeal, a lot of fruit, juice, milk, basic stuff. She seems unbothered, not possessive or jealous, not at all like a girlfriend talking to the guy who's crushing on her man.

"Speaking of apartments, you should come over again sometime, Yuri was so bummed when you left. And now that I'm stocking up, I can make you some real tea, not that asparagus root stuff that Yuri drinks. Or... Is it licorice root?"

"Maybe." He already knows there's a 99 percent he's not doing that.

"Yuri might make you something, but it's always a gamble. For you he probably will." She tilts her head knowingly at that last part, right before walking away, back to herself. What the hell was that? He wants to call after her, but the words are stuck between his ribs and his throat. He doesn't know if he's misreading this all, but she doesn't speak like a girlfriend. But she definitely knows that man inside and out (hopefully not too literally).

He walks around the store like a husk, just wanting to get it over with. When he leaves, the rush of cold air wakes him up from his trance, and it gets him thinking. What the hell is happening? Why won't he just ask Yuri what's up? Are they dating or is Yuri an open house, what a horrible way of wording that, but whatever, is he being (maybe accidentally) lead on?

His chest twists.

He walks faster.

It's humiliating. He feels like a joke. Like he imagined it all— the closeness, the softness in Yuri's voice, the drink, the nachos, everything— maybe Yuri's just naturally like that. Calm, warm, affectionate, comfortable. Charley might just be the weird one, who turns every moment into a big fat question mark over his head like the Riddler. He's tired. So tired.

When he gets home, he just puts the bag on the counter and stares at it. Hard stares at it. He can't focus. He doesn't even remember what he bought. His hands are shaking a little and he hates it, that it all got to him. He's meant to smile, flirt a little, laugh, and brush it off if nothing comes of it. Instead, it feels like someone's stabbing a knife into his chest and twisting it. He presses his palms to his face and breathes in, 5 seconds in, 5 seconds out. Nothing. No grace from his own mind. He justs wants black and white, yes or no, love me or don't, want me or leave me. Say it.
Instead it's a bullshit half finished story that no one knows he's a part of.

He slumps against the counter, grasping onto it like if he let go he'd shoot off into outer space and his head would explode, even though all his thoughts make it feel like it's exploding. His apartment is quiet, but not calm. It's stale. Dry. Like a movie set after everyone's gone home and all that's left is the remnants of human life.

It's half eight when Charley hears a polite tap-tap. It echoes like an alarm clock.

Charley doesn't move at first. He's lying on the couch, hoodie pulled tight, earbuds in with nothing playing. He'd tried distracting himself all day- wiping counters, second try at laundry and dishes, re-organizing records he doesn't even listen to- anything he could to get his mind right. None of it stuck. His brain kept circling around that lingering ache like a vulture.

The knock comes again.

"Just come in. The door's unlocked. Not like anyone's trying to kill me."

The door gently pushes open, and Yuri walks in. Oh of course. He toes off his boots and walks in like he's been here before. He sets some takeout down on the couch's arm, at Charley's feet, peering around like he's assessing damage. It's not messy, exactly, but neglected. Couch blanket scrambled up, sink not full of dishes, but enough to assume some meals were left halfway through.

"You didn't have to bring anything." Charley says, sitting up. He grabs the bag, inspecting it like it's poisoned.

"It's soup. French onion." Yuri says, not moving to sit near Charley.

They don't talk much at first, Charley just eats slowly, the steam curling against his nose. Eventually, Yuri speaks

"Wally told me he dropped by. Said you seemed off."

Charley shrugs. "Im always off."

"Off-er than usual." Yuri clarifies. "Like something hit you. Sideways."

Silence.

"Was it me?"

Charley flinches so hard he almost drops the spoon. Yuri raises both of his hands.

"I don't mean I purposefully did something, but, did I say something? Not say something?"

Charley stares at the floor, then the ceiling. Then at Yuri, jaw clenched.

"We had a good night. I went to yours. Then I met Dawn."
Yuri nods.

"And it sucked. Because I don't wanna ruin a relationship. You two seemed like a good couple I don't wanna end that."

Yuri furrows his brows, his face faltering. "Did she say we're dating?"

Charley shakes his head no, looking down at the soup. "I just felt it. In my head. In my heart."

Yuri puts a hand on Charley's shoulder.

"Me and Dawn aren't.. Like that. Not now, not ever." Charley doesn't respond. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it seemed like that."
Another pause.

"I wasn't trying to mess with your head, if I'd known-"

"But you didn't. So it's fine. You didn't know." Charley says quickly, not baring to look up.

"Why would I invite you over if I had a girlfriend? Even if I were a cheater that'd be... Stupid. At best."

"I don't know." Charley says, more defensively than he means to. "You are cool, and mysterious and charming. I don't know how you work."

there's silence after that that neither of them try to fill. Just silence apart from the hum of the fridge. Charley looks down at the half finished soup, and Yuri takes the cue to nudge it closer to him.

"You really need to eat. Then go shower. I'm not saying you smell bad but..." He trails off.

"I definitely smell." Charley mutters, cracking the faintest smile. Yuri smiles back. It doesn't exactly reach his eyes, but it's genuine.

It's not fixed, nothing ever is. But something inside Charley loosens, just enough to let air inside his lungs.

Chapter Text

The front bell door chimes as Charley steps in. Just like the first time. The air smells like earth and something smoky. He pauses.

The front of the shop is empty, no Wally, no Yuri.

"Wally?" He calls, not too loud, he wouldn't wanna disturb the peace. No response.

The lights are dimmer than usual, filtered green through all the leaves. Ferns shiver slightly under the ceiling fan. The only sound is the creak of a door near the back, and Charley debates leaving, until he hears quiet laughter from behind the door. Soft, unmistakably Yuri. Other people probably wouldn't know that, but he's memorised everything about this guy. He frowns, following the sound, weaving through a bunch of hanging plants and overgrown displays. The smell gets stronger as he walks, something skunky and familiar. He walks into the back to find Yuri sprawled out on the floor, a joint burning between his fingers. His jacket's off, thrown somewhere near the corner of the room.

"I'm caught." Yuri says, flatly.

"Are you smoking in here?" Charley looks around nervously, like anyone would care if they saw. Yuri looks at him in a 'is that even a question?' way. He holds it out to Charley. Charley opens his mouth. Closes it. He doesn't take the weed, not yet anyway, choosing to sit down cross-legged near Yuri's head. He really considers stroking Yuri's hair, but he decides it's too early for that. Yuri pulls his hand back hesitantly, putting the joint back up to his lips and turning his head (which makes his cheek squish against the floor) to blow the smoke out.

Yuri tilts his head back to look up at Charley. "You wanna try?" Charley just stares at him for a second, before rolling his eyes and taking the joint between his thumb and his pointer finger. He shakily brings it up to his lips, inhaling slowly. He coughs, letting out waves of smoke like a dragon. Yuri snorts.

He takes the joint from Charley's fingers. "Hmmm, first time? You seem like a DARE kid." Charley puts his hand on his chest in an act of fake hurt. Yuri puts his hand above his head to put it on Charley's knee. It makes Charley freeze up. "Sorry. Were you though?"

"Ironically." Charley slowly eases up. "My parents made me." He sighs, letting his hands rest on his thighs. Yuri pulls his hand back, tapping some ash into a terracotta saucer.

"I mean, I'm not new to smoking. Just.. Not weed. Emilio used to use a fake id to buy cigarettes for us." Yuri looks up at him, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Who's Emilio?" Yuri really drags out the 'Emilio'. He hands the joint back to Charley.

Charley inhales, still coughing, but not as much. "Old high school boyfriend. I swear I thought we were gonna get married, but we broke up in college." Yuri nods, moving his head back to it's original position. He raps his fingers against the floor. Charley nudges the back of Yuri's head with his sneaker, getting his attention.

"Did you have a boyfriend in highschool? Or college?" Charley let's Yuri's head fall onto his foot.

"Nah. Any guy I liked wouldn't have liked me back. I kept to myself in highschool. College less, felt more free, but still." He pauses "I had crushes. I'm not totally sexless."

Guy. Okay. He can work with that. "That's what you think." Charley lets his eyes close, inhaling the dirt-filled air. He can barely fall asleep before Yuri starts giggling at something. Charley opens one eye to see Yuri inspecting a glass cup.

"How the fuck do they make glass? It's melted sand, how do they do that?" Yuri turns the cup over in his fingers, like it holds the secrets of the universe. "Who thought of that?"

They sit in silence for a minute. Just breathing and the repeated ticking of the clock.

"You ever feel like you're made of something other than skin and bones? Something like static, or electricity, glitter maybe?"

Charley doesn't answer right away. He watches the glass cup, then moves to Yuri's face, which hasn't changed from it's stoic, calm look. There's something real in his voice, something not stoned.

"Sometimes." Charley says. "Sometimes I feel not here. Like I'm somewhere in space."

Yuri nods thoughtfully, putting the long-burnt out joint in the saucer.

"Wally would be so pissed if he saw you right now. You're always on his ass about being present at work." Charley murmurs, eyes closed again.

"Hey, I don't do this often. Wally's a bad employee all the time."

Charley lets out a breath that isn't a laugh, and isn't a sigh. "This place is weird."

"You like it though." Yuri says, not a question.

Charley swivels his head toward him. Yuri's staring up at the vines on the ceiling, with one hand lazily draped over his stomach, still holding the glass. Charley watches the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"Yeah." He says, nodding. "It's calm."

And after a pause, he speaks again.

"I think I like you aswell."

Yuri doesn't move. Doesn't even look at him. Just exhales imaginary smoke into the air. But he smiles, faint, crooked, the kind of smile you keep in your back pocket, reserved for the right person.

"I know."

Yuri sets the glass down next to him, letting his head fall back to look Charley in the eyes. "Is that the weed talking?"

"Do you want it to be?" He glances over Yuri's hair that's fallen back into the floor.

Yuri swallows. "I don't know." His voice wavers between uncertain soberness and uncertain stoned-ness. "Maybe. If not, that's a lot."

Charley nudges Yuri's shoulder with his foot. "It doesn't have to be."

Yuri doesn't move, just lies there, blinking like a frog. "Okay," he says eventually like he's filing that away somewhere in his brain. "Okay."

There's no kiss. No big moment. No whoop-dee-da. Just quiet. Just them two, half-high and a little bit too honest with each other.

/ / / / / / / / /

"Yooo, Charley!" Wally says, wrist deep in soil at the register. It looks a lot different than yesterday- smells a lot different too- or at least it does to Charley. Charley doesn't respond, just gives a small nod. He slept horribly, so he really doesn't have the energy to waste breath.

Wally points a dirt covered thumb toward the back. "He's back there. If you're looking."

Chaney sputters slightly, getting defensive. "I'm not- he's- thanks."

The back is humid and quiet. Like yesterday, but with less tension in the air (even though the tension was completely Charley's fault). Yuri's hunched over a tray of seedlings, fussing with them. Charley steps in slowly, like he's the hero in a fantasy novel who'll wake something sinister if he walks too loudly. Yuri looks up, not smiling, not frowning, just noticing.

"You're back." He says, like it's not a given.

"I didn't wanna stay home. Thought the leaves would accompany me well." Charley says, looking at every thing but Yuri. When the silence drags on too long, he can't help but blurt out: "I still remember what I said last night. And what you said. Do you- did you mean it?"

Yuri freezes, accidentally crushing a seed when his body tenses up. "I don't know." He says quickly. Way too quickly. "I was high, you were high. Does anyone really mean anything they say when they're high?"

Charley nods slowly, but it's not at all convincing. "Right."

Yuri's mouth twitches like he wants to say more, but it doesn't come to fruition. He wipes his hands on his apron and stands straight.

"Gotta move some flats out front."

"I'll help." Charley says immediately,

They walk out together. Not close enough to be touching, not far enough away to completely ignore each other. They place the tray right next to Wally. Wally gives them a sideways look that they both catch, probably because they're trying to focus on Wally and not each other.

"Are you two into each other now?" Wally says, squinting as he looks up at them.

"Wally..." Charley says exasperatedly. He doesn't wanna look over at Yuri, but he can imagine they have a similar reaction.

"Yuri thinks it's funny" He turns to Yuri. "You think it's funny."

"Wally." Charley says, louder and more firm. "Nothing's happening." Wally raises both hands, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"We're just..." Yuri starts, trailing off. Him and Charley look at each other and immediately look away.

Wally shrugs. "Charley doesn't even work here. He's doing unpaid labour, it's great for me." They all go silent. Especially Charley. Wally and Yuri have that thinking silence, where they're still moving, or making small, almost silent noises. Charley's silent. Completely silent. Dead silent, the type of silent where you don't have thoughts.

"Wally, get to work." Yuri finally breaks the silence. He walks away, promptly letting Charley sink his head into his hands, elbows on the front desk. He's muttering curses under his breath, mostly cursing himself, things like 'Why did I say that?' And 'I'm never smoking again' Wally's clearly not paying any attention, aimlessly moving stuff around to seem busy. Charley pulls out his phone to text Rhonda.

Charley: how did u and quinn start dating

Rhonda's quick to answer, she always acts like she doesn't care, but Charley knows well that talking about Quinn is a good way to get her talking.

Rhonda: I just talked to her, told her how I felt and she felt the same. I don't know what to tell you, peanut

Well that's not gonna help. But, it's a longer message than usual. He can work with that.

Charley: well that's not gunna help me

Rhonda: is this about yuri? Quinn's a little different from him. He's creepy and quiet and quinn's charming and talented.

Just talk to him about your feelings. It's really not that simple. Charley automatically wishes in his head that Yuri were more like Quinn, but the thought quickly grosses him out. He likes the way Yuri is, and the way that Quinn is, but he likes the ways they are differently. He couldn't imagine liking Quinn like he likes Yuri, maybe just because she's a girl. That's a long thought, one that gets cut off by Wally.

"Man, if you don't wanna talk to him, maybe just drink again. You seemed pretty open on trivia night once you got that drain cleaner in ya." Charley shakes his head, sighing into his palms.

"I can't rely on alcohol to talk to him, I think that's called alcoholism." Charley says, muffled by his hands. Wally shrugs, not replying. Charley's really grasping at straws when it comes to figuring Yuri out, and the newest straw to pick at is Wally. "So, you work with Yuri, does he ever talk about what he likes?" He pauses. "In a guy, I mean?"

"Nope. If you count plants as guys, he talks about what he likes in a guy a lot. He's talked about you once."

Charley jumps at that. "What'd he say?"

"He just said you're interesting." Wally says, as if it's nothing.

"That's it?" He shouldn't have expected more, why would Yuri tell Wally every little thought (if he has any good ones) that he has about him.

"You asked for what he said, that's what he said." Wally wipes dirt off of his hands.

Charley looks at the floor. "I'm gonna throw up." He rubs his temples,

He knows there's no way out of this. If he tries to ignore it, he'll think about it more, if he doesn't ignore it and talks to Yuri like Rhonda said, Yuri might totally freak out and hate him forever.

"You should probably take this one home." Wally grabs a small plant from behind him, handing it to Charley. "It's a late bloomer." Charley does a fake, sarcastic laugh. It's nice for him to know that even though he's struggling between ruining a possible relationship and ignoring a possible relationship, Wally can still make fun of him.

Charley goes to find Yuri again, not only because he's tired if Wally. He's pretty easy to find, he's crouched over by a few sunflowers, spritzing them generously. Yuri doesn't look up when he says "You're not on the schedule, you know?"

"In not on the payroll, either." There's a moment of silence before Yuri sits back on his heels.

"You come back."

"I don't know why." He says. Then more honestly, "I think if you quit I wouldn't come back."

Yuri dtudies him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He picks up a watering can, pours a little over the soil.

"I guess it's not just the weed." He says quietly, shifting slightly to make room.

Charley doesn't move to sit down or get closer. Just watches the water seep down into the soil.

"My shift ends in about an hour. You can stay behind if you want, we can go get coffee."

"I don't like coffee." Charley says, he really doesn't like coffee, but he'd force down 5 cups of it if he really needed too.

"What do you like?"

"I like that diner down the street. They have milkshakes."

Chapter Text

It's not exactly warm outside- warm enough to make the walk to that old 60s diner down the street seem a little slower- and there's more clouds in the sky than usual, but it's calm. Yuri's fingers brush Charley's once. Neither of them say anything.

The diner glows with the ever-lasting light of nostalgia. Neon buzzes. The vinyl booths that surely can't be safe to sit ok creak. It smells like sugar and grease. Charley likes that about it. They settle into a booth in the far corner. Yuri sits down first, with a type of fluidity that makes Charley's heart hurt. Charley sits down next to him rather than across from him, not thinking about it. His knee presses lightly into Yuri's.

"I feel like I'm gonna get diabetes at this place..." Yuri murmurs, eyes on the laminated menu. "Surely nothing on this menu is healthy."

Charley snorts, trying to hide a smile. "It's definitely not. But it's important. You pick the wrong milkshake flavour, relationship over."

"Relationship?" Yuri says it quietly, likes he's testing the word. Charley opens his mouth, closes it. The waitress comes and goes. They order their respective milkshakes, strawberry for Charley and banana for Yuri, and a plate of fries to share (which Charley looks at suspiciously the way he's looked at fries since he almost died after he ate fries cooked in peanut oil in high school) . The milkshakes come in those tall glass cups that sweat condensation down the sides seemingly no matter what you put in them. Yuri takes a sip of his, immediately getting whipped cream on his upper lip (which Charley doesn't have facial hair but he knows is gonna be annoying to wash out) Charley watches him for a moment too long.

"You- You have a little something." Yuri wipes at his face, though he doesn't manage to get it all.

They talk. About weird dreams, what kind of dogs they'd be. Charley says Yuri would be one of those big dogs with floppy ears, Yuri says thank you and that Charley would be a chihuahua, those little ones that act tough. The conversation slowly shifts, it always manages to.

"I thought you hated me when we first met" Charley says. "You barely talked, apart from telling me to go." Yuri shrugs, pushing his milkshake nearer to the window.

"I didn't hate you, I hated Wally. And I only knew you as his friend, I assumed you were annoying like him."

"You still hate him?"

"Not nearly as much. I guess since you're friends with him I should try to be." Yuri says. He sounds slightly disappointed that he has to actually like Wally. Their knees are still touching, and Yuri picks up his milkshake and puts it between them both like a barrier. "Do you wanna come to mine after this?"

Charley blinks. "Seriously?"

Yuri nods but doesn't look at him. "Nothing has to happen, we don't even have to talk, the company would be nice." Charley stirs his drink with his straw.

"Sure." The silence drags on for a bit. "You want some of mine?" He says, nodding his head to his drink.

"I don't do pink drinks."

"You don't do joy?"

Yuri smirks, leaning over to sip from Charley's straw. It's weirdly intimate. Yuri's face tightens when he tastes it. "It's fine." He mumbles, not looking at Charley or the drink. His lips are pressed into a thin line, eyebrows furrowed.

"You really hate it" Charley snorts.

Yuri shrugs, trying for nonchalant but he's clearly grossed out. "It's... Okay."

"You're a bad liar."

"I'm a polite liar." Yuri says, leaning back from Charley's shake to sip his own, seeming a lot more content once he's drank enough to get rid of (or mask) the strawberry.

"You didn't have to try it." Charley says it like a question.

Yuri shrugs again, picking at the chipped plate that the fries are on. "You asked me to."

Charley doesn't press it more, but he nudges the milkshake closer to the middle of the table like he's offering it. Yuri pointedly doesn't reach out for it. Yuri stabs his straw into his mostly melted drink. Charley's is just as melted, but he's drank more of his. Yuri leans his elbow against the table, but immediately pulls it back, grimacing.

"The table's really sticky." He mutters to himself.

"They always are, it's a part of the charm."

"It's like they covered it in syrup." He rubs his elbow, trying to get rid of the sticky residue.

Yuri drums his fingers on his knees, and even Charley can tell he's soaking in nerves, mostly by the way Yuri looks around, from his knees, to the chipped tile floor, to the neon sign, back to his knees. Charley debates saying something comforting before Yuri blurts out:

"Is this a date?"

Charley blinks, caught off guard. His straw squeaks agaidnt the inside of his glass as he shifts it around. "What?"

"I'm asking." Yuri says, louder now but no more sure of himself. "Is this a date or just hanging out?"

"I didn't think about it." Yuri's shoulders shoot up when Charley says this, bracing for impact. "It's not not a date."

"That's not..." Yuri doesn't finish his sentence.

Charley runs his hands down his face, until his skin feels less radioactive. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird."

"I asked, it's not weird." Yuri looks up at the clock and down at Charley's empty glass. "We can go now if you want."

Charley nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet, but Yuri beats him to it.

Outside it's colder than either of them expected. The street's empty, apart from one guy on a bike and a cat that slinks under a parked van. They walk in silence for a few blocks until they walk past a laundromat, where Yuri points to one of the dryer's. "That one on the far left steals socks."

Charley looks behind them like the machine would start following them. "Thief."

They can barely take a few more steps before Charley trips over a few tree roots that have broken through the ground. He manages to get his balance back to see Yuri's mouth twitching. Yuri gestures to the tree the roots are trailing to.

"It doesn't like city boys."

Charley grins but hides it in the collar of his denim jacket. "I'm not a city boy"

By the time they reach Yuri's building, it's gotten considerably colder. Yuri's leading Charley. He could walk to Germany and Charley'd follow. Yuri pushes open the sleek looking front door, which really makes Charley realise Yuri's place is so much nicer than his. They walk up 2 flights of stairs to reach Yuri's apartment. The moment his door opens, Charley's hit with the strongest smell of lavender he's ever smelt. It was there last time, but not nearly this strong.

They both kick their shoes off, and Charley floats over to a shelf of pots and bowls and cups. He hadn't ever noticed them before, though, the last time he was here he thought Yuri had a girlfriend so he wasn't exactly looking for art. "You make these?"

"Uh-huh."

"They're good. Really good." They're pretty basic in the sense of patterns, but Charley still thinks they're good because Yuri made them. "How long you been doing pottery?"

Yuri stutters for a second, like he can't exactly remember. He leans against the coffee table. "10 years now. Since I was 14. It helps."

"Helps with what?" Charley rolls a slightly misformed vase in his hands.

"Stuff."

That's about as much as he expected to get out of him. Charley makes a tired noise in his throat which makes Yuri perk up. "You can sleep in my room if you want- my bed's pretty big."

Charley hesitates, even though he knew this was a possibility. He knows nothing will happen, and he doesn't quite want to leave yet. "Are you sure?"

Yuir's already halfway down the hallway. "I wouldn't be offering if I wasn't."

Charley follows after Yuri, socked feet squeaking against the hardwood floor. Yuri's room is small, neat but lived in, and entirely him. There's a bunch of medical books stacked on the nightstand, spine-broken and without jackets. There's a hoodie draped over a chair by the window, that also smells like lavender, but more so than the rest of the apartment, like it's seeped into the walls.

"Pick a side. I don't care." Yuri says, tossing a pillow from the end of the bed up to the headboard. Charley hesitates. It's not like he expected they'd be sleeping in different rooms, but now that he's here, the air feels thick. Charley changes into the sweatpants that Yuri hands him, long in the leg and loose at the waist, but comfortable. He peels off his shirt and folds it neatly on top of his jeans which are on the floor. He doesn't look to see if Yuri's watching, and Yuri doesn't says anything if he is. When he climbs into the bed, Yuri's already laying there on his back, eyes on the ceiling. Charley takes the side closest to the wall, easing himself down into the mattress as if it'll disappear if he isn't careful.

"You let all your guests sleep in your bed?" Charley says, voice gravely.

Yuri lets out a noise that isn't exactly a laugh. "Just the ones who let me try their milkshake."

Charley lets that sit. Then: "You didn't even like it."

"Doesn't mean I didn't wanna try it." Yuri shifts, turning on his side away from Charley. "I wanted to understand how- or- why you like it."

Charley watches the back of Yuri's head. How his shoulders curve. The way the blanket's pulled up to his chest. "It's sweet. Reminds me of when I was a kid." Yuri doesn't reply. He doesn't have to.

Charley doesn't know how long they stay like that, breathing in the same rhythm, silence beating like it's alive. But eventually he blinks slower, the room fades a little around the edges. The warmth seeps into his limbs. His thoughts get fuzzy.

Somewhere in there, Yuri shifts again, not far. Just enough to let his elbow brush Charley's arm. It's tentative, but it means something to Charley.

Sleep comes easy from that.

Chapter Text

Charley wakes up to music ricocheting through the walls. For a second, he just lays there, blinking up at the beige ceiling with the focus of a kid with ADD in an american history class. He turns his head to find Yuri not there, not in the bed with him. He shouldn't be disappointed, given that he would've had a panic attack bad enough to put him in the ER for a year if he saw that stupid blonde mullet first thing, but there's something in him that thinks it would've been worth it. The music's calm, some R&B you would've heard in 1975, but it's loud. It's not a horrible song, something about love being here today, tomorrow. Charley's eyes scan his surroundings like he's gonna see where it's coming from, as if he'd be able to without his glasses, but to no avail. There's a part of him that thinks being here makes him feel.. not on edge. It's not like he feels on edge in his own apartment, but here he feels perfectly fine. Like nothing can hurt him, or even get near him. Maybe it's just the lavender working it's magic, or the joy of something new, but he feels safe waking up there.

He fumbles around in the mostly-darkness for his glasses, essentially just hitting everything around him, hoping to make contact with something. Eventually he slides his hand against the bedside table and (along with a cup) knocks his glasses. Charley forces them onto his face, stabbing himself in the eye with the arm 3 times. Once he can see, everything is metaphorically and literally clear.

He shifts to sit up, the blanket wrapping around his legs, trying to pull him down. He kicks his feet to dislodge it, not having the energy to just reach his arms out. He doesn't want- or need- to get up just yet, and there's some part of his brain that wants to lay there until it becomes his death bed. Charley shifts closer to Yuri's side of the bed to pick up a notebook, just labeled chemistry. He flips open to a random page, immediately being hit with words he didn't understand. It was just a dense page of handwritten notes, really nice, neat handwritten notes, that would take Charley an extra 10 years of school (a hell he's already been through and survived) to understand in the slightest. He tries to comprehend what it says, but nothing successfully makes it into the remembering stuff part of his brain. He squints to read one sentence, but it all jumbles together.

Before Charley could keep reading, his mind interrupted him, and he began questioning how he's actually here. 

There's no rhyme or reason to how things went down, just pure luck and the universe being a bitch. 

In a strange way, Charley misses how it was with Emilio. Not because he wouldn't trade Emilio in for Yuri in a second, but because with Emilio it was simple. They were teenagers, just teenagers, having fun, enjoying the time they had. Plus, neither of them could completely ignore each other. They went to school together, had shared classes, so there was no true avoiding it. Now, with Yuri, if Charley did something that freaked Yuri out, Yuri could go radio silent. That thought won't settle. 

Yuri seems to like Charley, but is it in the way Charley wants? 

Charley doesn't want Yuri to like him in the way you like a song, when it's playing, it's the best thing you've ever heard, but when it's not you don't really think about it. He wants to be what Yuri is to him, that ache in your chest you get at random. That thought you can't shake. 

Charley flips to another page, and a small, folded piece of paper slips out. It looks like a receipt at first. Charley automatically reaches, out of habit, and unfolds it. It's a short list.

call therapist

refill meds

trivia 2pm thursday

stop by the library

Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing he feels like a dick for snooping on, and worst of all, nothing about Charley. Normal stuff, boring human shit. A small part of him- the gross, selfish part he drowns out most days- wishes it was something bigger that he could fawn over for a while. Some type of proof that he's lodged under Yuri's skin like Yuri's lodged under his. All it proves is that he has a life that doesn't involve Charley. Appointments. Books he gets to read, not for the aesthetic.

He refolds the paper, shoving it between the pages again. 

He throws the notebook to the end of the bed and sits there for a minute, hands lax on his lap. The music he's long forgotten about changes again, it's faster now, still old and rough, but it barely registers. He knows it isn't fair to want Yuri to be struggling, or, rather, he knows it isn't fair to wish that Yuri'd need him. But, logic won't ever win over feelings. Not for Charley anyway. 

The door squeaks open, and Yuri walks in, balancing a mug on one hand, plate on the other. He freezes halfway in, eyes catching on the notebook at the end of the bed, the folded paper sticking out like a flag. Yuri's mouth twitches, like he wants to say something, but it flattens into a tight line. He fumbles the mug in his hands, almost dropping it. 

His face does this thing, like he's trying desperately to come up with something to say, but he's falling flat. 

"I-" Yuri starts, voice unsteady. Unusual, for him. "It- It's nothing important, just- just like-"

Charley blinks, caught between wanting to sink into the mattress and wanting to laugh.

"I wasn't-" Charley says, knowing full well he was. 

"It's fine. Super fine." Yuri says too fast. "It's just stuff. I forget things. Y'know? So I um... lists. They're just reminders. So I don't... forget." He winces as he says it, like he knows how stupid it sounds but he can't turn back.

Charley just nods, unable to save either of them. Yuri steps closer and basically throws the mug at him, as if the faster Charley takes the mug, the faster he can be put out of his misery.

"I made coffee." He murmurs. "And toast. If you want it." 

Charley takes the mug, his fingers burning when they touch Yuri's. It's something a little too charged for the utter stupidity of what's happening. Yuri shifts back a step.

"You can like- stay. If you want. If you're not busy. And I don't have work today." It sounds like it costs him something to even offer. 

Charley sets the coffee onto the nightstand, heart dong something dumb in his chest. He doesn't trust himself to speak, so he leans back against the headboard, pulling the blanket over his lap. Yuri watches him for a second, like he's expecting a no, then he turns back to the kitchen. The door clicks quietly behind him. Before long, God has to start up the torture again, and Charley hears the front door unlock. Dawn. Charley was so wrapped up in- well, Yuri- that he forgot Dawn lived there too. 

He hears a conversation start, one he can hear through the door. He can't see them, but he can imagine what it looks like.

Thump. A bag drops on the ground

"You owe me a lighter, klepto." Dawn's voice is bright. There's a pause, like Yuri was interrupted, or like he couldn't think of what to say.

"I didn't steal it. You left it in my jacket." 

"That's stealing, just fancier." Dawn doesn't miss a beat.

Charley feels like he's eavesdropping, but he can't help hearing. He's in this weird limbo. 

Dawn, almost somehow speaking louder now, says: "Also! Did you text Charley back? Or am I gonna hear an hour of this yap yap yap again?" 

Charley can't entirely make out what Yuri says next, but it sounds something like 'he's here', and given by what Dawn replies, he's probably right.

"Here? Like, here here? In the apartment here?"

"Yeah." Yuri mutters in an awkward voice. "In my room. Reading, or, I dunno."

Charley thinks he hears a paper bag drop to the floor. He sits there immobilised for a second before putting his feet on the floor and standing. Seeing as he hasn't stood for nearly 12 hours his legs almost crumble under him, but he manages to hold on. He shuffles along the carpet, feeling a level of uncomfortable-ness he's never felt before. He pulls open the door. It screeches. 

Both Dawn and Yuri both have their respective visceral reactions, on the opposite ends of the spectrum, when Charley sticks his head out of the door. His hair's mussed, glasses crooked. Charley get's no time to look at Yuri. Dawn beams, motioning for him to come out. 

Charley hurriedly leans over to grab his shirt, throwing it on, probably backwards. He very hesitantly steps out. Yuri freezes up, which Charley can only hope is because he thinks that Dawn's gonna say something stupid and not because Charley 'crashing there' is something he regrets. Charley sits on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. 

As Dawn talks about something he doesn't care about, Charley actually notices Yuri's apartment for the first time. His personality is everywhere. There's obviously the pottery he's already seen, but there's also stupid magnets on the fridge, a framed photo that he's sure is Yuri, Dawn, and some other girl with hair straight from the 50s at a... somewhere. There's a battered chemistry textbook and 'American Psycho' on the coffee table, and a whiteboard hanging off-kilter opposite it. It has small notes on it, stupid things that surely shouldn't need reminders.

Charley's eyes float over to the counters, where there are stacks of spices and letters and a bunch of stuff that makes Charley's apartment feel like the most boring place ever. He can see a letter from 'mama' at the top of the letter pile. Cute. He takes a closer look at that photo. All 3 of them are red faced and slightly blurry, probably from a whole bunch of cheap beer. Yuri's wearing a bright yellow paper crown that no sober adult would wear. He looks happy. He has a carelessness that makes Charley smile. His mind keeps drifting to the way Yuri's been around him. Awkward. Tough. But there's the good parts, when their hands would brush, when there was a flicker of something he can't name, he doesn't want to name it. It's just nice to have, to behold. 

He catches a glimpse of Yuri over by the counter, fiddling with a knife, his back slightly turned as he spreads butter onto toast. Charley watches him for a second too long before quickly looking away. It’s embarrassing, how easy it is to get lost in just watching him.

"So" Dawn's voice is loud enough to break through his thoughts. "Are you two serious, or just messing around?" 

Charley freezes, eyes darting to Yuri, who's now very intent on his toast. A dark flush creeps up Charley's neck, chest tightening at the casualness of it all. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first. What could he say? The truth? That he doesn't know what Yuri wants from him? 

"We didn't... do... anything." He eventually gets out, which makes Yuri whip his head around so hard he might break it. The silence is deafening. 

Dawn shrugs, chewing on air. "Yeah, but, that doesn't mean you haven't."

"Don't." Yuri cuts in, tone a little too firm. "We haven't." He tilts his head. "We aren't whatever you're thinking." His voice wavers a bit at the end, like he doesn't believe what he's saying.

The conversation dies an awkward death after that, Yuri focusing way too hard on sipping his coffee like it’s his life support. Dawn, because she can’t stand silence for more than ten seconds, claps her hands once, sharp and sudden.

"You should show him the new vase," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Charley catches Yuri’s eye across the kitchen. Yuri looks, frankly, like he wants to crawl inside the fridge and die. It’s kind of adorable. Charley smiles, because he’s a jerk like that. "You made a new one?"

Yuri hesitates. He goes to a chest of drawers, pulling a lopsided vase primed in white out of the bottom one. 

Charley straightens up, curious. "Did you make it?"

Yuri shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. "Yeah. Tried, anyway."

"It's cool," Charley says, and means it. "You need help painting it?"

Yuri looks like he might argue. Maybe something defensive, something self-deprecating. But then Dawn, sensing victory, slaps her hands on the counter.

"Perfect. I'm gonna nap." she says, already halfway down the hall, before they can stop her.

The door to her room slams.

Now it's eerily quiet. Again. Yuri scratches the back of his neck like he's waiting for divine intervention. Charley moves first, moving to grab the pot of brushes that he supposes Yuri has out all the time, because he's that kind of artsy. Yuri mumbles something, dissapears again, comes back with a cardboard box full of little paint pots. He sets it on the counter and opens it like he's performing heart surgery.

Charley immediately rifles through it, picking out a dark blue.

"You break it you buy it." Yuri says, dryly. 

Charley puts on a half smile. "Guess that means I’m moving in."

For a second, Yuri just stares at him, something unreadable going across his face. And then he shakes his head, muttering something that sounds almost like "You're insufferable."

At first it's stiff. The tension is sticky between them, Charley painting a circle around the middle like he's disarming a bomb. Yuri taps his brush against the rim, barely making contact. They both hover too much, and Charley's seconds away from saying something dumb to try and loosen some leaves when his elbow nudges Yuri's, getting a smear of blue paint on the vase and Yuri's arm. 

Yuri stares at the smear, open eyed, and for a second Charley freaks out, but before he can get a word in, Yuri dips his brush into a bright red and flicks it at Charley.

A bit lands on his wrist. 

Charley scoffs "How dare you." He deadpans

Yuri smirks like debby ryan "Do something about it tough guy"

Charley narrows his eyes, swiping a line across Yuri's forearm before he can dodge. Yuri yelps, trying to retaliate but dropping his brush instead. 

And suddenly it’s not stiff anymore. They’re laughing, bumping into each other, fighting for paint colours like kids. Charley’s face hurts from smiling so much, his cheeks flushed, paint somehow ending up in his hair.

Yuri gets a streak of green across his cheekbone, which Charley sees it and without thinking reaches out to wipe it off with his thumb.

Yuri freezes. Charley freezes too, thumb still on Yuri's cheek. For a split second that flow is gone, a big elephant-in-the-room replacing it. Like something's about to snap. Like the whole universe narrowed down to just them. 

Charley feels it in his gut. Because Yuri's that ache. That thought he can't let go of. 

Yuri blinks, lashes fluttering. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something. Charley’s heart tries to climb out of his chest.

But then Yuri leans back, clearing his throat hard. Rubs the back of his neck. Looks anywhere but at him.

"We should finish this vase." Yuri says, voice small but neat in a way. 

Charley lets his hand fall, like it didn't mean anything. 

"Yeah." He says, way too casual. 

Yuri lets out a huff, probably just grateful Charley isn't pushing it.

They fall back into painting, this time easier. Not careful. Not awkward. The vase ends up looking kind of ridiculous-patchy colors, uneven stripes-but it feels right. It feels like theirs.

When they finally look at it,  paint-smudged and exhausted, Charley grins at the absolute disaster they’ve created.

"It’s... Wow. It's good." he says uncertainly.

Yuri laughs, real and easy. "No, no it isn't."

The vase just sits there, drying. Charley's eyes overlook the blues and greens and oranges. He's not entirely sure what to say. He didn't even realise how much he's been holding back until now. Until this silence. It isn't uncomfortable, just full of possibilities. 

Yuri glances up from where he's wiping his hand on a rag. He's looking at Charley but not looking, it's almost like he's trying to gauge if this is the time where Charley leaves. Maybe he expects it, but the moment he meets Charley's eyes, something shifts. The nerves evaporate, leaving them with that familiar tension. 

Yuri takes a step closer. "You can crash here again if you want."

His words settle somewhere that's soft, but grounded. He doesn't have to think twice.

"Okay." He says, because it's simple. He already knew his answer, there's no pressure. He wants to stay. 

Yuri's mouth twitches into the start of a smile, but it's quickly covered by his usual stoicness. He rubs the back of his neck, before looking at Charley again. "Cool. I have some stuff to do anyway." Yuri says, voice steady, but Charley can see the shoulder tension. 

Dawn bounces out of her room. "He's staying? I was listening in. Sorry." 

Yuri's response is a half shrug, not trying to hide Charley or himself.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / 

After an hour or four of chatting and eating and drinking, Charley starts to yawn. Yuri almost immediately notice, patting him on the back. His touch lingers.

"You look like you need a bed." Charley doesn't answer, but he nods. He stands up and stretches his arms above his head, Yuri standing barely a second after. 

Yuri turns his attention to Dawn, making a face that can only say dont-be-weird-about-this. "We're gonna go to bed."

"Okay. Well, don't be too loud with whatever you do." Dawn says, not looking away from the magazine she's found herself engrossed in.

Gross. 

Chapter Text

Charley turns onto his side, squinting into the dark. “Hey,” he whispers like they hadn't (or at least he, maybe Yuri isn't lying) been laying in silence for the last fourty-something minutes pretending not to be wide awake. 

Yuri rolls from his original position- all of his weight on his shoulder right at the edge of the bed- to face Charley. It seems like he's awake, but his eyes are so dark they look almost like his eyelids. There's maybe 5 inches between them, which should help ease Charley's unease but it does not. Looking at someone so pretty never will. "What's wrong?" Charley's heart almost stops beating in his chest. Yuri's voice is hoarse. 

"No, nothing's wrong- I just- I can't sleep, and I wanted to know if you were awake." Charley shifts away slightly, expecting that Yuri'd do the same. Yuri doesn't do anything but move the piece of blonde hair that turning over got in his eye. 

"I'm awake. D'you wanna talk?" Charley blinks. Really blinks. 

Charley immediately jumps. He stares at Yuri for a moment. "When did you figure out that you were different?"

Yuri doesn't immediately respond, looking around like he'll find the answer in a shadow. He lets out an exhale through his nose- a sigh? a laugh? it doesn't matter. "That's a... loaded one." Charley eases over to the spot he was in before, closer to Yuri. 

"You don't need to answer." His fingers curl into his pillow. Yuri answers anyway.

"There was this guy in my swim class when I was 12, I hated swimming but this was before I discovered pottery. He laughed like a duck. He smiled at me once after I went into the deep end for the first time. And my brain just.." He taps the side of his head with his index. "Glitched."

Charley breathes a laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Charley can see through the darkness that Yuri's smiling. "Felt guilty for a while. That I wasn't meant to notice. Uh, what about you? When did you realise?""

Charley didn't expect it to be flipped onto him. He runs through everything he could say in his mind. He cringes at almost every one of them. "I guess... I didn't really have much hands on experience until high school. I remember being infatuated with Hayden Christensen. I didn't even watch Star Wars." 

"Ah." 

"Didn't you ever have a celebrity crush when you were a kid?" Yuri shakes his head. It's not like Charley pegged him as someone who had a lot of them, or a few, but he had to have at least one. Everyone does. 

"I guess I didn't think of it that way." Yuri pauses, like he can't think of what to say next to not make him seem boring. "You said you dated a guy named Emilio... um, what was he like? I didn't really date, so..." 

Charley frowns a little at the sudden shift. To Charley, Emilio was a chapter in his life that he read and turned the page. Maybe in high school he wanted to keep reading it over and over until it was memorised, but now it's something he barely thinks about. Unless he's drunk. Or high. Or gets left alone with his thoughts for too long. "He was different. Like... he saw through me when I was lying. I didn't really realise what he meant until it was a little too late. Yuri doesn't respond. His eyes study Charley in the dimness, like he's trying to read between the lines, and hear something unsaid. Curious. Charley continues. "It was the little things. And the big things. If i was with him everything was fine and dandy."

Yuri's face softens, and Charley can tell he's listening. There's no judgement in his gaze, no 'this is gross but i'll listen anyway', just curiosity. It makes Charley feel light, like he could say things he wouldn't say anywhere but inside his head. "We had our fights, sure, but... we were young. And there was this way he looked at me, that felt real. It made me feel real. I could be myself. I think I loved him for that." Yuri doesn't interrupt him. Charley moves closer. 

Charley doesn't want to end this and just go to sleep, but he'd kill a man before talking more about his ex with his... Yuri. "What was your MSN screen name?" what a stupid question.

"Oh- uh- it was c4ricture0f1ntimacy for... a long time. Like the panic! at the disco song." Charley mumbles something kind of like 'oh wow'. They go silent for a good thirty seconds. Charley kicks out his leg, which smacks against Yuri's thigh. Neither of them freeze up, or move away, not like they probably would've before. 

Charley breathes out through his nose. The silence between them now feels different — not heavy, just full. He lets his leg rest where it landed, against Yuri’s. He can feel the heat of him, even through the blanket.

Yuri shifts a little. “Did you ever have one of those cringey MSN bios? With like... blinking hearts and fake HTML?”

Charley groans. “God, yes. Mine said something like... “music = life <3”.”

Yuri hums. “Mine was mostly lyrics. Panic!, sometimes MCR. I think once it just said ‘They made me do it.’”

Charley snorts. “Edgy.”

A comfortable silence falls over them, and for a moment, Charley’s aware of how close they are. They’re not touching directly anymore, but the proximity - the fact that there’s just inches between them - feels new, feels heavier. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to be still. He can hear Dawn in the other room, flipping pages. Her nose is probably still in that magazine, it was something about a fashion wave with teenagers, there was some girl in a chunky scarf and jeans under a dress on the cover. He doesn't remember. Of course, that's not all his fault, he was a little too focused on Yuri.

"Uh- Dawn's cool." Charley says, getting interrupted by a yawn at the back of his throat. "How'd she become your roommate?"

Yuri makes a crackly sound, how he does that Charley won't ever know,  and looks at nothing like he's reminiscing. "We were in the same philosophy class in our freshman year of college, and we were both broke, struggling with rent, so we went halfsies on this apartment. There's nothing really more than that. She cut my hair at home once when I didn't have time to go to a salon. Totally fucked it up." Charley couldn't imagine Yuri's hair being anything but perfect. But also Charley couldn't imagine a goatee looking good, or that he'd ever love anyone this much (even Emilio) but here he is. 

"I'm sure it looked.."  hot "Fine." Charley could swear he sees a weird sort of affection wash over Yuri's face, before that tiredness set back in. 

Yuri's side of the blanket wraps around him when he moves. "A lot of people don't like me. Because I ignore them" He adds: "Why'd you keep trying to talk to me?" 

"Wally said something. I found it funny. Or- uh- it made you intriguing." Yuri tilts his head, raising his eyebrow, away from the pillow. "Said you're a fun vacuum. I thought maybe... You needed the right person to have fun with." Charley continues, leaving out how he called Yuri cute, but Yuri can live in blissful ignorance. Yuri's mouth twitches. 

"And you wanted to be the right person?" Charley doesn't answer. "I mean... I'm not saying you aren't. But you are a lightweight." 

"That pinky drink thing was just super strong." 

"Then a few days later you got high and told me you 'liked me'." Charley can feel the smile he thought was stuck on his face falter. Yuri doesn't seem to notice and keeps talking. "I mean... It's not like I... Didn't wanna- say it back." He closes his eyes tight for a second before opening them again, those big brown orbs looking right through Charley's soul. "What am I talking about?" 

Charley's smile almost instantly gets back on his face, stronger even. "You're talking about feelings. Gross, right?" 

Yuri's mouth twitches. "Disgusting." 

There haven't been many almosts in Charley's life. There haven't been many relationships at all. For all Charley knows about all of this, all of it could be some weird friendship that isn't never gonna be anything. But- what he said to Wally is right- Yuri is cute. Cuhyute, even. Charley could say that, tell Yuri how he feels, and blame it on tiredness like he did with weed, but it feels disingenuous. 

"Do you ever feel like you're gonna have a panic attack when you're near certain people?" 

Charley lets his mouth fall open, feigning confusion. "Like teachers?" maybe if Yuri were a teacher that'd be a serious answer. Charley'd listen to any of Yuri's lectures anyday. 

"Uh-" Yuri almost looks like he's gonna correct Charley. "Yeah." Charley can't help but be a little disappointed. 

"Not really. There are people I freak out around, but not teachers." Charley sighs, putting his elbow underneath his head. Charley wishes Yuri would touch his hand or something. He does not want to make the first move. 

Yuri doesn't say anything for a while. His eyes flutter shut, but not like he's sleeping, more like he's thinking behind his eyelids. His breathing shifts, almost calmer but in a weird strained way. Charley wants to say something. He really wants to. Something simple, something honest. But he doesn't know how those words will come out, and frankly, they might sound like something he isn't willing to risk. 

So instead he murmurs: "You gonna go to sleep now?"

Yuri doesn't answer for a second. By the time Charley's half way through wondering if Yuri's already asleep, Yuri talks. Nothing extravagant or over-explainy. Just.. "Maybe."

Yuri turns on his back, arm scraping (wrong word choice probably) against Charley's. Charley does the same. The ceiling fan clicks overhead. 

Before Charley can thank Yuri for talking to him, or sleeping next to him, or being easy to be near, he feels his thoughts slipping away to the bullshit ones that make no sense that you get right before sleep. 

/ / / / / / / / /

Charley's glad to have woken up when he did. He wakes up right at 7:23, just in time to see the bright orange sunrise. And also just in time to get a few minutes of staring at Yuri (not in a weird way, or at least that's how Charley thinks of it) before he wakes up. The sun works perfectly in Charley's favour, shining against Yuri's hair. 

Charley sticks his foot out of the end of the blanket, the mattress scratching slightly against his sole. He takes a deep breath, taking it all in. He can't take another before he feels a hand on his leg. He jumps slightly, turning to see Yuri sitting up on one elbow, leaning over to touch Charley. His eyes still look tired. 

Yuri's hand is warm on Charley's shin, and when he talks, his voice is soft with sleep. "You always wake up this early?"

Charley grins. "Only when I have a good reason."

Yuri raises an eyebrow, but the edges of his mouth raise slightly. He flops back against his pillow, blinking slowly at the ceiling. "It's not even eight."

"So what?" Charley replies, stretching. "You want coffee?"

Yuri groans. "Do I have to move?" 

Charley's already getting out of bed. "I'll bring it to you."

Yuri nods at him. There's something easy in the way it all unfolds. Charley does what he says. He goes out to the kitchen, very quickly finding the mugs. He picks out a chipped garfield mug, that surely can't be Yuri's, and flips on the kettle. Charley walks barefoot around the kitchen, like he lives there. It's domestic. Soft. Quiet, even, unlike his mornings which are loud and unkempt and solitary. 

By the time he gets back, Yuri's pulled the covers over his head, but one hand peeks out to accept his coffee. Their fingers brush. "Thanks." Yuri murmurs, muffled. 

"No problem, mole." 

Yuri snorts, pulling the covers down to his nose to look at Charley. Charley already knows his hair's messed up, he saw himself in the mirror. It doesn't seem to bother Yuri. They drink in companiable silence, except for a few spoon clinking against the cups. Yuri eventually crawls out of bed when Charley moves for the kitchen again, meeting him there. 

They stand next to each other, while Yuri makes toast with an almost unsettling amount of focus. 

Charley leans in slightly, shoulder touching Yuri. "You're cute when you're focused." oh my god why did he say that?

Yuri doesn't jump to respond, he doesn't even hop, just tilts his head and turns the toast. But there's that mouth twitch again, like he's trying not to smile. 

Yuri offers a slice of burnt toast to Charley, putting it up near his mouth like how you do 'here comes the aeroplane' with a toddler. Charley takes a bite, immediately grimacing. It tastes like he's chewing on burnt wood. "You gave me the most burnt piece!" He swallows the small part he bit off, struggling to. He does a little chewing motion to try and get out the burnt taste. 

"The burntness adds a new, unique flavour profile." 

"No, no. It doesn't." Charley shakes his head as Yuri laughs to himself. Charley can be dramatic all he wants, but he'd probably cook that toast for another 10 minutes and still eat it if Yuri was the one offering. Charley picks up a letter from 'mama' while Yuri's eating his breakfast, the same one he saw before. "Can I open this?" 

Yuri barely glances at the letter and who it's from before nodding. He tries to speak but he can't exactly through the food in his mouth. "Yeah, tell me what it says." Charley slips his thumb into where the envelope folds over, carefully opening it. He pulls out a neatly folded letter that's on light pink paper. He skims over the words, written in handwriting that he would think is Yuri's if he wasn't told who's it is.

"To my Yurochka" He butchers that "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I know things are busy on your end, but I've thought about you. The weather's finally warming up, thank god, and the robins are back. You know I take that as a good sign. I was going through some old photos and found the one of you in that big red coat, barely 4 feet. You looked like a little snowman. I can't believe how fast time has flown. Let me know how you're doing when you get a chance. I miss you, honey. Eat something besides noodles. And call us once in a while. Love you always, Mom." Yuri's not looking at his toast now, rather heavily staring at Charley's face. Not exactly his eyes, but his face. Charley puts the letter down near Yuri's plate. "She sounds nice." Yuri sighs, picking up the letter. Charley can see Yuri's eyes moving from side to side. 

"Hm." Yuri shrugs, smiling a little. "God, I haven't seen her in so long. She's still in Wisconsin." 

"You're from Wisconsin?" Charley laughs a little despite the fact that he's from Wisconsin. 

"Yep. Some fucked-up shithole town called Split River. What a stupid name."

"We must've gone to the same highschool, why didn't I know you?"

Yuri takes a sharp inhale of air. "I was an art geek. You were probably more popular than I was."

Charley snorts. “No. I was the guy people copied homework off of and then forgot existed the minute the bell rang.”

Yuri hums like he’s not convinced. “You’re still the guy people orbit around. Just more... selectively.”

"Like you?" 

"Yeah. But, speaking of orbiting-" Yuri puts his plate in the sink. "-I need to go to the library today,"

Charley cuts in "That's not speaking of orbiting."

Yuri moves from next to Charley to opposite him "Doesn't matter. I was wondering if you wanted to come with?"

Charley pretends to think about it, dramatically tipping his head like he's weighing the pros and cons of spending more time with Yuri. “Library with you? What if I mess with your focus face?”

Yuri gives him a flat look, rinsing off his plate. “You already do.”

Charley puts a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

They get ready slowly. Yuri disappears into the bathroom for ten minutes, and Charley hears the tap running, the sound of a drawer opening and closing. He takes the time to fold the blanket on the couch, because somehow it feels right. Like preserving something. He doesn’t really live here, but it doesn’t feel like he’s intruding either.

When Yuri comes back, he's wearing a light green button up. He wears a lot of green. 

Yuri tosses him a hoodie that smells like cedar and detergent. “If you’re coming, wear this. You’ll freeze otherwise.”

Charley stares at it for a second too long. “Is this the part where I pretend I don’t want to wear something that’s yours?”

“No,” Yuri says, pulling on his faux suede jacket. “This is the part where you shut up and put it on.”

Charley grins. “Yes, sir.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, but Charley swears- swears- there’s colour in his cheeks.

/ / / / / / / / / / / 

Libraries suck. Charley always thought so. He hated them in elementary school, he hated them in middle school, he hated them in high school, and he sure as hell hates them now. But Yuri seems so blissful, scanning through shelves upon shelves of books Charley wouldn't read- or even look at- and looking the happiest he's ever been doing it. Yuri's weaving through the aisles, Charley following behind like a stalker follows their victim. He runs his finger along spines, stopping occasionally when he sees one he finds especially interesting. 

Charley's borderline sulking, having thoughts like:

"Who even buys physical books anymore?"

and

"He's such a nerd, in a cool way."

Yuri pulls out a volume of some book called 'The Brain and It's Stupidity', taking his sweet sweet time looking at the back cover. He has this stupid smile on his face- focused- that makes Charley want to jump out of the third storey window and run home (if his legs aren't broken) from the purest form of love boredom. 

Yuri flips the book open, skimming through the pages, every so often mouthing a few of the words like he's guessing how to pronounce them. Charley watches, weirdly fixated. He doesn't know why it’s so compelling to see someone read like that, like they’re having a whole private conversation with the text. It could be how unselfconscious Yuri looks. Or how his brow furrows. All Charley knows is it works for him.

They continue on. Yuri looks at every type of book imaginable. Or at least it's all Charley can imagine. Psychology, Physiology, something vaguely medical. Charley can barely keep up. Charley's barely following behind still, his body is. His soul left the moment the front doors opened and they walked in. He's trying desperately to not breath too heavy, or knock over a display of staff picks. He doesn’t belong here. His reflection in the glass doors when they entered had screamed that loud and clear. Hoodie, beat-up sneakers, expression like someone forced him in at gunpoint. It would have been like a bullet to the chest if he'd denied coming here and seen Yuri dissapointed, so maybe that part's right. 

They hit a new aisle. Brain science gives way to something more abstract: books about memory, perception, consciousness. Yuri slows down here. Pulls out two titles, compares their thickness, then sticks one under his arm.

Charley exhales quietly. “You gonna read all of those?”

“Not today,” Yuri says, still flipping pages. “But eventually, maybe.”

Of course he will. Of course Yuri has plans and a list and probably a colour-coded reading spreadsheet at home. Charley wants to make fun of him for it, but the words come out softer than expected. “You’re a freak.”

Yuri smiles, without looking up. “Thanks.”

A minute passes. The shelves grow taller. The air gets thinner. Charley’s phone buzzes in his pocket but he doesn’t check it. And then- just as Charley’s thinking this might actually be bearable, that maybe he could stand a few more minutes of Yuri’s book trance-

A voice cuts in. Confident. Familiar, somehow.

“Yuri? Hey! I thought that was you.”

Charley looks up.

And there he is. It's some guy. Some guy Charley doesn't know, but Yuri clearly does. 

"Oh, Hey!" Yuri says, like he's seeing his best friend who just came back from a vacation and he's soooo happy to see him. 

The guy immediately jumps into action. "You know, with those eyes, you’re practically begging someone to ask what you’re reading. I’m guessing it’s not just the book that’s keeping you so focused." 

what the fuck?

"Uh, thanks!" Yuri smiles at the guy and Charley feels a cold, rock-like feeling settle in his chest. There is no way that smile- the one Charley rarely gets to see- was just put out so easily for this guy. He feels his whole body go stiff. He’s not sure why it bothers him. He shouldn’t care, right? It's just a casual flirt, he tells himself. But the way the guy is looking at Yuri, with that overly smooth tone and that easy smile, gets on Charley’s nerves.

"You rrreeealllyyy shouldn't be here." The guy pauses for dramatic effect. Oh he's good. "Might distract the customers, and I'd get fired." Charley bites on his tongue. It's not like it matters if Yuri's being flirted with. Why would it matter? 

Charley just stands there while he's being punched in the gut a thousand times over. The guy, or I guess soon to be Yuri's boyfriend or something, flashes a grin, the type of grin Charley couldn't pull off. There's a bubbling in his chest that makes him want to tackle the guy like Wally taught him. 

"Yeah, I just like books with more substance." The guy's words are perfect. No stammering. No awkward pauses. "Stuff that makes you think."

Yuri nods. The guy laughs, probably at Yuri's indifference, and Charley's heart almost stops beating. The guy leans closer to Yuri, as if he could get any closer. He's hovering. "You know, I've been thinking about that cafe, Rosen Coffee, it's only a few blocks away. We should go sometime, get coffee, talk about books, the usual." He says it so casually, but there's something under it. 

Yuri's smile falters. Just a little. Charley feels a little something- relief? "Uh- well, that's nice, but I'm-" 

That guy cuts in again. "I'll text you, don't you worry!" 

Yuri nods, still smiling politely. And then the guy waves and walks off, disappearing down the aisle, leaving Charley standing there, his heart pounding in his chest.

Charley’s hands are trembling now. He can feel the anger rising in him, bubbling up to the surface, but he’s too stunned to do anything about it. His gaze flickers to Yuri, who’s now looking down at the book in his hands again, the faintest blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Charley doesn’t know what to feel. He doesn’t know how to process any of this. All he can do is stand there and stare, watching as Yuri goes back to his reading, not even realizing the storm swirling inside Charley. The frustration, the jealousy. "So what was that about?" Charley says a little too sharply for anyone's liking.

"What?" Yuri says, clearly knowing what. "Are you... okay?"

Charley's heart drops. Are you okay. That isn't something you ask someone who you have a will they/won't they thing going on with right after not shutting down some guy flirting with you. "Yeah... I'm fine." 

Yuri doesn’t look convinced. His gaze flickers to the books in his hands, his fingers absently flipping through the pages as if he's trying to find something to say. "I... don’t know what you’re thinking, but I didn't mean anything by it," he says quietly.

Charley almost laughs again, but this time, it sounds like a bitter sneer. “You didn’t mean anything? You didn’t even care that guy was hitting on you?” He doesn’t mean to sound so angry, but he can't help it. The words just spill out.

Yuri goes still, his fingers halting on the pages. His head tilts, and his expression shifts, concerned, confused. “Hitting on me?” he repeats, as if the thought hasn't even crossed his mind. "He was just.. talking."

Charley almost smiles. Unless Yuri's bullshitting, he didn't see it as flirting. "Right... talking."

After a moment, Charley hears him softly ask, “Is that what this is about?”

Charley’s heart skips, his pulse racing as he glances back at Yuri. His mind’s a mess. He doesn't want to have this conversation. Doesn’t want to acknowledge that the jealousy clawing at him is something more. But it’s out there now, hanging between them.

"No." Charley tries to sound tough, confident, but even to his own ears it sounds weak. 

"Charley, he's not- We're not- I don't like him like that."

Charley scoffs, turning around to hide the smile. He pulls out his phone to check that notification from earlier. It's from Wally.

Wally: Please dont tell me ur rotting in ur apartment 

right. He never told Wally about the sleepover. Or whatever that was. It’s such a contrast to the tension in the air. Charley wants to laugh, but it feels wrong, like laughing would shatter the weird quiet between him and Yuri. He pockets the phone without responding.

"Yuri..." Charley starts, his voice rougher than he expects. "How long do you plan on staying here?"

Yuri glances up briefly, his expression thoughtful. "I don’t know. Until I’m done looking, I guess." His eyes flicker back to the shelf, the same calm focus back in place. "Why?"

"Just wondering." 

Yuri doesn’t push, not exactly, but he doesn’t let it go either. “You seem… off.” He hesitates. “Was it that guy? I-” Yuri sighs.

Charley blinks. That guy. 

“No. Why would it be?”

Yuri doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tucks the top book under his chin and readjusts the stack in his arms.

“Dunno.” he says quietly. “Felt like something shifted.”

Charley snorts, more out of defense than humour, but Yuri’s still looking at him, waiting. Not demanding anything. Just… watching. Knowing, maybe. Or trying to.

“I’m just tired,” Charley mutters eventually. “This place has that effect.”

Yuri nods slowly, but it’s clear he doesn’t totally buy it. Still, he lets it go.

Yuri’s reading again, or at least pretending to. his eyes skim the page, but his grip on the book is tight. He glances at Charley. Once. Twice.

The third time, he stops walking.

“Okay, are you mad at me?” he asks, plain and direct.

"I'm not mad at you I'm mad at that guy." Yuri opens his mouth to speak but Charley keeps going. "I was just standing there like an idiot while you two were flirting away, I could've left but I didn't! I'm so stupid." Charley puts his head in his hands, which gives Yuri an open to put his hand on Charley's shoulder.

Charley doesn’t move. His hands are still over his face, like if he hides for long enough, the moment will disappear. Or rewind. Or maybe Yuri will just go back to the books and forget it ever happened.

But he doesn't.

“I didn’t know what he was doing,” Yuri adds after a second. “Not really. I don’t… I don’t think that way, not right away. It takes me a minute.”

Charley slowly lowers his hands. Looks at him. “Takes you a minute?”

“To realize someone’s flirting,” Yuri says, meeting his eyes. “Or that I’m supposed to care.”

Yeah maybe that's why Yuri doesn't notice Charley's obvious flirting. 

Yuri inhales deeply. "I just gotta check out these books, then we can split."

Charley just nods. They go over to the front desk area- Charley catches the eye of that loser on the way there- and Yuri checks out his books. Yuri's chatting with the clerk, a sweet-looking old lady, smiling like they're good friends. It's nice to look at. That's creepy. It's nice that Yuri can be kind. That's still weird. Whatever. 

Yuri finishes up, looking to Charley. He smiles in this goofy, off way that nearly sends Charley spiraling.

They leave the library together. 

Maybe it'll be fine. 

Chapter Text

He's over it, right? Is what Charley's been thinking for the past 30 minutes, sitting on the couch (of Yuri's apartment) while Dawn talks to him about something he's not paying attention to. Trauma, energy, Jan, bla bla bla. Yap yap yap.

Charley doesn't know if he's talking about himself being over the flirty thing, or if he's talking about Yuri being over Charley totally freaking out about said flirty thing. Both. Maybe. He can't keep up with it all. 

Yuri plops down next to him, a glass of something beer looking in hand. It doesn't smell like beer. He looks especially scruffy, goatee looking like it hasn't been cleaned up in weeks. it's hot. It suits Yuri well. Charley catches himself staring like Yuri's the sun and he's a toddler who doesn't quite know how the world works yet. thats weird. 

His gaze flicks back to Dawn. He'd trying to seem interested, but Yuri picked the closest seat to him. Not that armchair near Dawn, or the opposite side of the couch, no. Right next to Charley. Because of course. Charley can't go a day without something happening that makes him question every feeling he's ever felt and every relationship he's ever had. 

Yuri seems to be paying attention to Dawn. Not him. They're good friends, it makes sense why Yuri would listen to what she says. Charley just doesn't have the energy today. He could at least try to keep up niceties, but it's hard when it sounds like Dawn doesn't even know what she's talking about. 

He can see Yuri rubbing his thumb along the edge of the cup out of the corner of his eye. There's something else he could rub. He can also see that it's definitely not beer. There's no froth, no beer smell, and Yuri doesn't seem like the type of guy to drink beer. It smells sweet. 

By the time his eyes focus on Dawn again, her arms are waving around like those tube men outside of car dealerships and shitty restaurants. 

He's trying to focus (he really is, promise) but it's difficult. It's like trying to grab mist with your bare hands. Everytime he thinks he's got a grasp of one concept, metaphysical barriers, or brain chemistry, it slips out of his grip again. Which isn't his fault. Not when Yuri smells like pine and some type of berry. It's purposeful. It has to be. This is some cologne you wear to impress someone, not because it was the closest soap in the shower. 

He knows it's precarious, and all of his thoughts are self indulgent, but ignoring it actively is basically acknowledging it so why not give in. 

Yuri's knee bumps against Charley's, and it may as well be electric shock. Like his nervous system threw up it's hands and said 'good luck, loverboy.". Charley's sure it's intentional. It isn't. Probably. But Charley's brain is already running off script, thinking of a lot of scenarios that involve hands (thumbs specifically) and countertops and-

Nope. No. 

Abort. 

There's a lot of things he could be thinking about instead of Yuri's jawline, or voice, god, he's hopeless. Something like how he needs socks that aren't fluffy borrowed ones with stretched out toe-areas. How does that even happen? He should probably go back to his own apartment to get some clothes. Assuming he's staying here again. And again. And again. And hopefully forever. But- that's not important right now- because he can't keep wearing Yuri's clothes. They're too big on him. Yuri did wash the clothes he came here in though, that was sweet of him. 

It feels a little weird. Wearing Yuri's clothes. Being in Yuri's apartment. Sleeping in Yuri's bed. Wally would be ecstatic. Not only because he's been on Charley's ass to find a new boyfriend for- however long ago he started college- but also because Yuri controls his hours. Charley could imagine it. Wally would be begging him every single day for Charley to convince Yuri to give Wally a break, or get a cover. Anything. 

maybe he should reconsider this whole yuri-is-the-only-person-i-want thing. There are other people. If Charley believed in a christian hell, living that would be it. And he thinks he hasn't been too bad. 

When Charley finally dials into whatever Dawn is talking about now, she's too far deep into it for it to be possible for Charley to fall fast enough. She seems to have no real idea what she's talking about, like she's just spouting whatever she thinks of. Big words. Big made up words. Smart sounding ones too. 

He decides to give himself 30 seconds. 30 seconds of not looking at either of them. Just at the wall. He makes it 5 seconds before his gaze slides back over to Yuri. He's stretching. Charley catches him just in time to see that blink and you'll miss it moment, the moment where his shirt rides up just a little and his jeans slip barely enough to notice- and you see a sliver of skin. Holy moly. 

Charley wants to bite him. Like really bite. Right on the jaw. Or if God is willing, on the collarbone. 

Charley could explode. Then he'd rebuild himself, probably forget to put his eyes back, just to explode again. He really wants to hear Yuri. Gasping his name. Would Yuri gasp? Or is he more of a silent type? Charley'd kill a man to find out. 

Charley has thought about Yuri's hands a lot. Not even in a romantic way. Just because he wants to touch them- his skin looks soft. He wonders what it would feel like if Yuri's hand was flat against his chest. Or if they could hold hands, instead of stupid little brushes. 

"Y-- ----, -- ----- gonna stay here yo- ------ -------- --- ---- -------. ---- aren't mine." 

fuck. Charley wasn't paying attention. What did Yuri say? Something about something not being his? 

"Uh- b- what?" Charley blinks at Yuri, probably looking like an utter idiot. 

"Clothes? For if you're gonna stay here any longer? Your apartment isn't too far away, right?"

Is Yuri reading his mind? Can he do that? Is this some power that Charley wasn't made aware of? He fucked up royally if Yuri can do that. 

"Right." Charley looks around, looking for a sign. Of what? He doesn't know. "Uh- yeah. Yeah. I can stop by my apartment. For some clothes." 

Yuri raises an eyebrow like he knows how off balance Charley is. He probably does. Bastard. 

"Y'okay?" He asks lazily, like he didn't drop a metaphorical nuke on Charley the moment he say Yuri. 

"Mh-hm." 

Yuri hums. hums. Like a cat that knows the mouse is cornered. His gaze falls to Charley's legs. On the oversized jeans that definitely aren't his. 

"Want me to come?" Yeah, but not to his apartment. Charley shrugs, feigning not-freaking-outness. 

"Speaking of clothes... These make me look like a sock puppet."

Yuri's grin is small, quiet. But there. He takes another sip of the mystery drink and licks a bit from his bottom lip. Like he knows Charley's watching. Like it's only for him. 

"Okay. I'm gonna go to the- to my apartment. Now." Charley says, standing much too quickly. Yuri moves with him, a little too close for Charley's comfort. Not like Charley wouldn't die like this. His brain might just split into two. 

"Wait, where are you guys going, I wasn't done!" Dawn calls out after them. Charley falters a little bit in his steps, expecting Yuri to come to a full stop, but he keeps striding. His shoulders are.. Wow. Eventually Charley figures out to keep walking, and by the time he gets out of the apartment, Yuri's already waiting there.

The walk to his apartment isn't a long one. More a 15 minute one. Who'd have known that Charley was walking past the home of the man he's now infatuated with for years. 

"What was that drink?" Curiosity killed the cat- or the Charley. 

"Apple juice. It's good. I would've offered you some but you were eyeing it up weirdly. Thought you wouldn't want any." Right. Apple juice. That's a thing. Charley was so locked into how Yuri looked and felt next to him he didn't even think that apple juice could be a possibility. God. He's an idiot. 

He could swear Yuri moves to touch his hand, but Charley's always been a wishful thinker. The moment they reach his apartment, Charley feels a sense of dread. What if this is it? What if he goes in and Yuri runs into the sunset because Charley was being weird? 

Yuri walks in before him. 

Oh. 

Charley follows him in like it isn't his own apartment building. Yuri knows the way. Like he's been here a million times before. 

"Throw me the key?" Yuri says from the top of the stairs. Throw him the key, really? 

Charley obliges. 

Yuri unlocks the door. 

Charley catches up to him and walks in. 

The sense of dread doesn't fade away, but it morphs into embarrassment, uncomfort. He should feel at home, like he would've before. But he's already missing the brightness of Yuri's apartment, the distinct smell, the warmth. Though maybe that last one came from Yuri, not the apartment. 

His apartment kinda sucks. 

There's no personality like Yuri's, just a few pieces of gray, red, and green furniture. He'll give himself some grace, because there's orange as well. He looks to where Yuri should be, or rather where Charley expected him to he, but he's not there. Charley's eyes find Yuri moving around his apartment, picking up every bit of personality (which won't take him long) he can find. 

He picks up a little tiger figurine Charley got from a fun fair back when he was 17. Technically he didn't get it, Emilio got it, he just gave it to Charley. Yuri spins the figurine around between his fingers, looking at all the chipping paint, and the crack in it's head from when Charley dropped it on his 21st birthday. In his defense, he was drunk. 

Yuri laughs a little. Probably at something that pops into his head that Charley won't ever find out. 

"You like tigers?" Yuri says, turning his head to Charley, and then tilting it toward the figurine. 

"Not really. I've had that for like 7 years... Emilio got me it. " 

Yuri's face drops a little, his body becoming a little tense. Hold on, is that jealousy? No. No way. "Ah. The boyfriend. Right." He puts the figurine down. 

"Ex boyfriend." 

Yuri nods a little, relaxing. He moves for Charley's bedroom, obviously assuming that's where his clothes are. Heaven only knows how he knows where that is. Charley would've loved to have him in it a bit earlier. 

Charley almost lets him go in there. At least before remembering his posters. He's not a person to have posters of hot guys (even though that's exactly what he does), but he's found it's easier to sleep looking at someone you find hot. He's especially found that sleeping next to Yuri. And it's especially good that Yuri's real and not stuck up on his wall. 

He's got 3 posters. Just 3. They're old. He barely even looks at them anymore. One's Ghost, obviously the poster with Patrick Swayze front and centre, one is a star wars movie, he doesn't know what movie but he knows Hayden Christensen is on the poster. The third is The Perks of Being a Wallflower. He thinks Logan Lerman looks especially good in the one he has. 

He cannot let Yuri see those or any chance he had gets shot to hell. 

"Yuri- Please don't go in my room. It's just uh- messy." 

"I'm fine with messy." He turns the knob, but doesn't open the door enough to see anything. "Are you gonna... Go in with me?" 

Charley makes a cracked sound at the back of his throat. Like a fucked up 'heuh'. He can't let Yuri see any of his room. It's embarrassing. 

'Yeah-just let me-" He basically pounces at the door- because yes, he is going in with you, thanks for asking Yuri- and barrels through it, slamming it shut behind him. 

"I'll just get my clothes!" He says, a few pitches higher than legally allowed. He presses his back to the door, like he's protecting the ark of the covenant. 

The posters are still hanging above his bed. Swayze, Christensen, Lerman. His subconscious must've wanted to pin up all of his shame, and turn up the homoerotic lighting. 

He grabs the nearest shirt of the floor, nearly dislocates his shoulder pulling open his sock drawer, and haphazardly kicks a hoodie under his bed. Tap tap tap on the door. Then the doorknob jiggles. 

"Charley?" 

"NO! I- I mean just give me a second!" Charley puts his hands out in a hold-on motion to no one. "I'm just getting all my stuff together."

He considers tearing them off of the wall, but there'd be residue which he doesn't wanna clean off and it'd ruin his walls if he doesn't clean it. He grabs the bottom of the Ghost poster. 

squeakkkkk

The door opens. He forgot to lock it. Fuuuuucckkkk. 

Yuri's eyes go from the posters, to Charley's face, to Charley's hand gripping the poster. 

Yuri blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. 

"Is that Anakin?" 

Charley wants to die, or bust through the drywall like the kool aid man. 

"It's vintage- and ironic- And I don't even look at them anymore, they're just kind of there." 

Yuri stares. Then he grins, looking down at the floor, then up at Charley with just his eyes. 

Charley has never wanted to kiss someone and simultaneously want to crawl into a hole until the sun died out so much. He suddenly feels cold. 

"You don't look at them. Right." Yuri sounds way too amused. "I mean, the guy from perks is a good choice. Didn't he play someone called Charlie in that?" 

Charley covers the poster with him arm, the back of his hand splayed against Logan Lerman's face. 

"It's good taste." Yuri continues when Charley doesn't reply. "In movies- and guys." 

Yuri walks over to the posters, maybe to Charley. Charley hesitantly puts his hand down, looking down at the floor like a teenager being caught doing something weird by their parents. 

Yuri's close now. He raises his hand. Charley's heart stops, not for long enough that he dies, but he definitely gets some brain signals telling him to evacuate. He raps his fingers on the Ghost poster, tap tap just above Swayze's shoulder. 

"Classic." Yuri exhales out of his nose. "I've never been one for drama." 

Charley's not breathing right, this must be what it feels like to be prey, he thinks. How it feels to be seen by a predator, for everything you try to hide. 

Charley hesitantly moves away from the posters, picking up the pile of clothes he slapped together while trying to keep Yuri out, and him in, for just enough time that he wouldn't get suspicious. Obvious fail. 

But, Yuri didn't react as badly as he had thought. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. Just scary. 

He stuffs his clothes into a bag- an old messenger that his dad hated, hates- and beelines for the door. Yuri takes a moment to pull himself away from the posters, but he eventually follows after Charley. 

They walk home. Or, uh, to Yuri's home. But it may as well be Charley's home too. He hopes it becomes his, theirs, one day. 

They get back. 

Yuri sits down on the couch. Dawn's gone, Charley assumes that she went back to her room when they left and she had no one to talk to. 

"Alright if I light up?" Yuri says, swiveling his head to Charley. "You can have some if you want." 

No. No. Last time Charley smoked (which feels like yesterday despite it being... Charley's forgotten how long ago it was) he said something dumb. 

"Uh- no. No thanks. It stinks. The- uh- the weed."

Yuri smirks a little, already digging in his pockets for a lighter. 

Charley tries to seem occupied, checking his phone or finding the perfect spot for his bag. But he's really just watching Yuri lean back, and the way his fingers work, practiced but lazy. Quick. Charley doesn't really care about smoking. He never has. Rhonda went through a phase of it in highschool, and he hated being around her when she was high. Partially because she was annoying, and partially because she would smell horrible, like dirt and tap water. And pine. 

Yuri's weed doesn't smell like that though. It smells like him. Of course it does. That same pine-and-berry smell. Charley can feel that smell seeping out of the couch and the walls and everything around him, clouding his senses. Maybe he's just trying to justify how he's acting. 

Yuri's exhale is slow, and Charley's eyes track it. Smoke curls forward, then right as Yuri snaps his head away from Charley. Kind. 

Yuri's eyelids go lax, making it look like his eyes are closed. 

"You know," Yuri starts, soft, slow, in a way that makes Charley freak out. "I think I sleep better when you're here." 

Charley blinks. Turns away like he didn't hear it. 

"Really. You have a... Presence. It's warm. Stops me being anxious." Charley's spine feels like it's been pulled out of his back. 

"More than weed stops you from being anxious?" Charley says, smiling slightly. 

Yuri shrugs, shoulders going up to his jaw. "Maybe." 

Charley doesn't answer. Not immediately. He just looks, at how Yuri means back against the couch, at how his chest rises and falls slowly. Yuri says things in this certain way. Like he doesn't expect Charley to completely believe him, but he's confident anyway. 

"Okay." Charley says finally. It's all he can manage, because what do you say to that? 'I sleep better when you're here'? Who says that?

 Charley feels his ears go red, something that doesn't happen often. Then he feels very cold. Then hot again. 

There's no real reason why Charley feels this way. When he first saw Yuri- walking around that plant store with the hydrangeas and the cacti- he just felt a rush of emotions. Emotions he hadn't felt in years. He's surprised Wally didn't shoot it down. Wally doesn't like Yuri, but who does like their boss. 

Wally would still probably flip if he saw them right now. He's never been one to watch romance (At least that's what Charley hopes this is) without being grossed out. But he can make out with Maddie in front of them all. Hypocrite. 

Yuri's body slumps over toward Charley, pressing the side of his head into Charley's shoulder. 

Yuri's breathing slows. 

Charley's eyes fall shut. 

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / l 

Charley jumps awake. Fuck, was he dreaming? What a weird dream.He looks at the clock on his phone, 3:07am. He's still on the couch. He can still feel Yuri's weight on his shoulder. It's cold now, he can feel the chill from outside on his neck, making the hairs stand. 

He shifts carefully, trying not to wake Yuri up. 

Charley stares up at the ceiling for a moment. His heart's still fluttering, from Yuri, not from his sleep. The aftershocks of a comfort he's never felt before race through his body. There's also a strange fear that this won't last, just mixed in there. 

His fingers twitch against the couch fabric, then hesitantly inch to grab Yuri's hand. 

Yuri's fingers grab his back. 

oh. Oh. This is nice. To be here. 

They sit there in tandem for a while. If a while is about 2 minutes. Yuri's heartbeat is steady underneath Charley's fingers. His breathing slowly becomes less even, something Charley doesn't notice. 

He stirs. 

"Whatcha doing Charley?" His voice is croaky, either from the weed or from the sleep, but it's amused. It's just above a whisper. 

Charley's throat goes dry. "I- uh- Don't know."

Yuri huffs something like a short sleepy laugh, squeezing Charley's hand before settling his head into the pillow behind them. Charley's a little disappointed that Yuri's head isn't on his shoulder anymore, but the hand-holding is a good replacement. 

"Mmmhhm..." 

Yuri's skin is warm. His skin's like an anchor for Charley, keeping him down on the earth. 

Yuri's hair occasionally brushes against Charley's neck, like a sweet little reminder that this is all real. It's not like he hasn't thought about this- he has- he really has. But this is much better than he could've imagined. 

Yuri's hair's soft. Really soft. And it smells like new books. Like when you buy a new book and you flip it open, that good wood smell hits your sinuses. 

Charley freezes. 

Yuri's hand drapes over his stomach. 

Charley feels his lungs tighten up, as well as all of his muscles. Yuri almost instantly tilts his head, neck bent unnaturally, chin on Charley's shoulder. "You okay...?" 

"I'm just-" really happy right now "Yeah."

Charley's body relaxes, but he still questions if it's right to be here, with Yuri. It might not be right for him. But also not for Wally, nor Dawn, nor his own brain. It would be weird for Wally, right? Charley dating his boss?

But Charley can feel the warmth pooling in his chest again. 

It's fine. It's all fine for now. He can cross the bridge of his friends being mad at him when he gets to it. 

Chapter Text

Charley's finally content. 

He gets to hold a guy's hand, laying on the couch while said guy's head is on his shoulder.

But you have to wake up sometimes.

Yuri's still asleep, well, he went back to sleep after almost giving Charley a heart attack. His breath is fanning against Charley's neck, like there's nothing wrong with the world. His fingers twitch now and then, and Charley can only wonder what he's dreaming about. 

By now the sun's stretching over the hard-wood through the blinds. 

Charley's shoulder hurts (Which is Yuri's fault, but Charley doesn't mind.) and he needs to drink some coffee. He remembers- vaguely- Dawn coming out of her room and doing a total 180 back into her room, but that might've been a dream. 

It's been a long time since Charley's had someone sleep on them. He doesn't quite know what to do with it. He should probably get up, he doesn't want to, but his shoulder will be out of commission all day if he doesn't 

Slowly, very slowly, Charley moves, inch by inch. He eventually manages to stand up, slowly lowering Yuri's head onto the couch. Their hands stay intertwined for as long as Charley can keep them that way. 

Charley looks over Yuri for a second. He looks calm. Charley eventually stretches, back popping in ways he's probably gonna start worrying about when he's older. Charley's heart thumps unevenly when he looks back at Yuri and sees his hand curled open slightly where Charley's hand once was. 

Charley wants to climb into Yuri's ribs. Or just laying next to him while he breathes- that's not weird, right?- and holding his hand. 

Charley starts feeling like a creep after the 6th second. 

He goes over to the cupboard. He's only been there a few days, but he's watched Yuri and Dawn enough to know where it is. He's especially watched Yuri. He pulls out 2 mugs. His mind tells him that Yuri wants one too. 

He doesn't make coffee- frankly, he's a little scared that he'll break the kettle- just pours some OJ into both mugs from the fridge. He puts Yuri's mug, a cute little chipped one, next to him. Yuri doesn't move apart from a little raise of the eyebrows before they fall again. Charley's organs might all just fail.

Charley sits on the armrest nearest to Yuri's head. He reaches over to let his fingers graze Yuri's knuckles before pulling back and cradling his own mug with both hands.

He's got this new feeling about Yuri.

Sure, before, he was so so worried about screwing it up and having Yuri hate him more than he could fathom, but now he feels like nothing could mess it up. He hopes Yuri feels like that too. 

Charley lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes as he sips his juice. It's tangy. It doesn't quite wake him up like he'd hoped it would. 

Yuri lets out a groggy little sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, and puts his hand out blindly, looking for something.

His eyes peel open, half covered by a thick part of his hair. 

Yuri's big brown eyes move up to Charley. They look tired still. 

Charley's breath catches.

Yuri blinks slowly, still heavy-lidded. His hand finds Charley’s, fingers curling gently around his knuckles, like anchoring himself, something Charley's wanted to do for a while.

"Morning..." Yuri's voice is hoarse. Charley fights his own brain from jumping onto Yuri.

Charley smiles a little.

"Hi.." God damn it, why did he say hi? You say morning when someone says morning. 

Yuri seems okay with that.

Yuri uses his spare hand to shift himself into a sitting position on the couch. He also moves a lot closer to Charley. Might just be a ploy to rest on his shoulder again. 

Charley hands over Yuri's mug.

Yuri looks in it for a second before deciding it's safe enough to drink. He takes a sip, puckering a little when the citrus-ness hits him. 

Yuri balances the mug on his knee, looking up to Charley again. 

They don't actually say anything, verbally, but Charley's trying to telepathically tell Yuri to kiss him. It doesn't seem to be working. Unless Yuri is a major asshole and is purposefully ignoring it. 

Yuri suddenly stands.

"I'm gonna go shower."

"Oh- Okay- I'll just- Be here." He does an awkward little smile at Yuri, and Yuri goes off. 

Charley can barely bask in his feelings for 5 minutes before a door creaks open. He almost questions how Yuri showered so quickly before-

"Hey Charley!" There's that semi-familiar, super bubbly voice. Dawn's voice.

Charley looks up to see Dawn. She's wearing a bandana tight around her forehead. Her hair's a little messy; nothing a brush couldn't fix.

"Hi Dawn."

She goes behind the counter, taking a banana from the fruit bowl. She shifts from leaning on her heels, to her toes, back to her heels, rinse and repeat. 

"You looked cozy earlier" Dawn says, peeling the banana with her teeth like a party trick, and taking a bite of it solely with her back teeth. 

Charley freezes up slightly. 

She doesn't seem to notice, and keeps talking, even with her mouth full: "You know," She accidentally spits out a piece of banana. She almost immediately moves to wipe it away with a tissue from her pocket. "He really likes you. You should try and keep near him." 

Her voice doesn't sound so distant anymore, it's more... parent-lecturing-a-child. 

How does one respond to that?

Charley definitely doesn't know. He didn't expect that. 

"Thanks." He says, sipping from his orange juice. 

"Don't wait for the green light to turn red!" She says as she finishes her banana in two big bites, and throws the peel in the trash.

Charley opens his mouth. Closes it. 

Once Yuri's done showering he should probably brush his teeth. Just in case. Although it wouldn't be too bad if he's still showering, Charley wouldn't mind seeing Yuri's-

"Bye E Y Charley!" She walks off, back to her bedroom. Why is it every time he thinks something like that it gets interrupted? Might be the universe telling him to stop. 

She is right. Which shocks Charley. The green light won't wait forever. 

The bathroom door creaks open, right on cue, and Yuri steps out. His hair's dripping wet, and it's stuck to his forehead. 

Charley's heart pounds loud in his chest. He wants to run over to Yuri, touch his face, just press his fingers into Yuri's skin. 

He doesn't.

Charley’s mind races, tangled up in the what ifs. What if Yuri doesn’t want it? What if he moves away? What if this perfect moment shatters because Charley can’t control himself?

That green light shines brighter in his mind than any normal traffic light could. But his feet are glued to the floor and- 

knock, knock, knock.

Oh thank god. 

Yuri moves to answer it.

Charley can't see who it is, Yuri's taller than the person at the door, but he can see a bit of black, curly hair. 

They talk for a second. 

"Uh- Yeah. Come in." Yuri steps out the way.

oh fuck. oh god. Charley's so dead. 

He can't meet her eyes, but Rhonda's there. How does she even know he's here? 

Yuri closes the door when she walks in.

She walks over to him, hands on her hips, already seeming upset. She speaks in that quiet angry voice she does. 

"What're you doing Charley? Why're you ignoring us?"

"I've been- busy. I mean- how did you even know I'm here?" 

"What? Busy with your new boyfriend you told no one about?"

Charley sighs. 

"Wally told me you'd be here."

Charley doesn't answer, just lets her keep speaking.

"How do you even know you can trust this guy, peanut?" 

Charley makes a noise of disbelief at the back of his throat.

"Wally knows him!" Charley's mouth hangs open. 

"Not enough for you to barely talk to us and basically live at his apartment." Charley looks past Rhonda. Yuri's not exactly looking at them but Charley can tell he's trying to figure out what she's so upset about. 

"I told you I've been busy." Charley looks away like a dog that's been caught chewing up a pair of shoes. 

"Charley, I swear if you've gotten syphilis from this guy-"

"No! Rhonda!" He says, whisper-shouting. 

Charley rubs his face. 

"We haven't done that. We haven't even- God- why am I even talking to you about this?" 

"This is too fast Charley. Fast isn't always good." She huffs "I'll be in my car calling Wally about..." She gestures behind her at Yuri "About this. For a while. If you wanna go home." She turns on her heel, and Yuri, being oh so smart, opens the door for her.

"Thanks." She says sternly, before storming out.

Yuri closes the door. 

Charley's arms go lax.

There's a tight pull in his chest. Rhonda's words are turning like a whirlpool in his brain.

fast isn't always good

how do you even know this guy?

He stands up abruptly. 

"I should go." 

Yuri's brow furrows, but he doesn't move. "Go... like for a walk? Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. Like home- my home."

Yuri's back straightens. "Charley."

He does this little slight open mouth sad eyes thing that breaks Charley's heart. 

"Really, Yuri." Charley can feel tears welling up behind his glasses. "I'll come back. Eventually."

Yuri sighs. "Alright. Anytime." He nods a little. 

Charley doesn't kiss Yuri goodbye. Maybe it feels like the wrong time. Maybe he thinks Yuri wouldn't want it.

Charley feels a chill when he knocks on Rhonda's car window. He can see her talking about something angrily, probably him. And Yuri. 

She turns her head, and mouths 'ah.'. She leans over to open the door.

"He's here now... Okay. Yeah, he's alright, Moose." 

Charley steps into the car, leaning his arms on the dashboard.

"You want me to drive you home..?" Rhonda says, sounding much less angry now.

"Yeah." Charley mumbles, voice breaking. 

/ / / / / / / / / / / / /

The moment Charley gets into his apartment and closes the door, he breaks down. He slides back against the door, head thudding against the wood. He immediately start sobbing. His whole body shakes as the weight of everything comes down on him- the anger and worry in Rhonda's voice, the fear of losing Yuri, everything just twists the knife.

He isn't being loud or dramatic, just... pained.

Charley presses his hands to his face.

His glasses fog up with his own breath, blurring everything. He can almost feel Yuri's ever-loving presence there, can almost see his big brown eyes. He can feel it too much, and he knows Yuri isn't actually there. And it's his fault. 

The “green light” Dawn mentioned-the moment to act, to take a chance- feels like a distant signal flickering in the fog. Charley knows he wants to reach for it, to cross that line with Yuri, but the fear of losing everything, which he probably already caused, keeps his feet rooted to the floor.

A dry sob escapes his throat. His fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as if it could hold him together.

Sure, he's been heartbroken before, but heartbreak is too weak of a word for what he feels. 

Just 15 minutes away. 15 minutes. Close enough that Charley'd barely get a moment to overthink things. But if he touched that doorknob now, he'd start burning like the wicked witch of the west. 

A bleeding heart. That's what he'd call himself. He's so eager to go see Yuri- and he could if he wanted to- but then again, his heart would explode from all the stress. 

Maybe Yuri would've shared that feeling had Charley not left so quick.

He wishes he could be a plant. It'd be so much easier, and he'd have Yuri taking care of him

But for now, he's stuck. 

Chapter Text

A week. 

That's how long Charley hasn't talked to Yuri. 7 days. 178 hours. 10,000 minutes of not hearing Yuri's voice. And it's tiring.

The sky seems to know that Charley's sad, it's been raining enough to drown a small child since last week.

He hasn't been talking to Rhonda much, he's just a little too scared to face her, but he's been talking to, or rather messaging Wally. Wally's been bugging him about how Yuri's been moping at work. Ouch. That one stings.

It's not like Rhonda hasn't contacted him- she has, a few missed calls, some texts- but if he responds she might double down. Say: see? I told you this would hurt.

Charley's barely been outside.

To Wally, he blames it on the rain, but he knows well if he goes outside he could see Yuri, which would probably give him a heart attack from the stress. 

And so, for the past 4 hours, Charley's been sitting on the couch, staring at the wall.

Nothing to do.

Nothing to say.

No one to be with.

His phone buzzes next to him, that same old tune. He assumes it's Wally, maybe Rhonda. A spam caller even. He goes to decline it before he sees

Yuri❤️  -   incoming call

His stomach flips a thousand times.

He scrambles to pick his phone up and accept the call. 

"Hello?" His voice cracks on the second syllable.

He can hear rain hissing on the other side. Then:

"I'm outside." Yuri says, his voice is quiet, raw. "I'm outside your building, I couldn't handle not seeing you anymore. I was walking and thinking and I found myself walking past... I didn't know what else to do." 

Charley gets up for the first time in hours, and yep. There he is: Yuri, soaked to the bone, looking up like he hoped Charley would look. He looks so good.

Charley hangs up the phone, not staying by the window for long enough to see Yuri's reaction. He drops it on the floor with a loud thud that probably makes his downstairs neighbours hate him.

Charley's not slow in getting his shoes on, barely tying the left one. 

He basically slides down the stairs- 2 at a time. 

As soon as he gets out of the building he looks like he just showered. 

Yuri looks so sad. 

It's killing Charley.

But he looks a lot less sad when their eyes meet.

Extravagant. Beautiful. Ravishing. Ethereal. And if he wants to be like his 11th grade english teacher, pulchritudinous. Those are some words he could use to describe how Yuri looks right now. 

Charley runs across the street, meeting Yuri with an immediate hug. It's the best thing other than kissing him.

It's a little awkward- wet clothes against wetter clothes- but that awkwardness melts away into something so much warmer, 

Comfort.

Yuri pulls back just enough for Charley to feel empty again. 

Charley smiles. A small one. A sheepish one.

Yuri moves his hands up to Charley's face, circling just under his cheekbone. 

He's really looking at Charley. 

Charley can almost forget how miserable the rain is and how much time has gone by since they last touched. All he can clearly think is that Yuri's eyes are the same as last week, still tired and still shining and still full of care. 

Yuri leans in a little.

Charley meets him in the middle.

A part of Charley wishes it were more dramatic, more woo-hoo we did it. Honestly, it's barely even a kiss at first, just a shared lip-touch. But it's warm, even with the cold pouring down on them. 

Charley sighs into it, gripping Yuri's arm real tight. 

Yuri leans away, smirking a little. He looks over Charley's face, like how you skim through a book.

His smirk fades. Not into sadness, just... something more serious. More full. He doesn't say anything.

Just looks.

Charley swallows, heart thudding. He doesn’t know what Yuri sees- what he looks like in this exact moment, hair dripping, chest heaving slightly from the sprint down the stairs, nerves still buzzing. But whatever it is, it keeps Yuri staring.

And then Yuri leans in again.

Slower now, though. 

Charley meets him again. This kiss feels more defined, like it isn't just a whim that one of them acted on. The kind of kiss that says 'I want this' and that makes Charley forget the grueling silence that's been festering in his bones for the past week.

Yuri's hand settles at the back of Charley's neck, slipping between the wet hairs. Charley presses closer, rain-wet skin and all. 

When they part, there's no big moment, just quiet. Soft breaths; and Yuri's forehead against Charley's.

"I'm sorry." Charley whispers.

Yuri nods. "I'm sorry too."

They don't need to say what they're sorry for. Not now.

They're just there- close, silent now, breathing the same air. 

"Do you wanna come inside the apartment...?"

Yuri grips Charley's hand and lets him lead the way. 

/ / / / / / / / / /

Charley doesn't actually like tea, but during that painful week, he begged Wally to buy some, specifically chamomile, lemongrass and earl grey, because he knows Yuri likes it, and he thought if Yuri ever wanted to talk to him again, Charley'd need to butter him up.

So, now, Charley's standing in his kitchen, fumbling with tea bags that feel so delicate.

Yuri's not helping, just watching with those eyes that contain a thousand suns, and Charley's so drawn to looking at them even though they'd blind him. 

"When'd you get tea?" Yuri eventually says, picking up and inspecting a few of the lemongrass tea bags. "They weren't here last time." 

Charley shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but his ears feel hot.

"Last week," He mutters, fiddling with the kettle like it's a complex machine. "Wally bought me some."

Yuri raises an eyebrow, flipping a teabag over in his hand. "You don't even like tea."

Charley says nothing, just pours hot water in each mug and slides one over to Yuri.

"I thought if you ever came over again... You'd want some."

Yuri watches for a second. Then two. Three. Four. Then with a considerable amount of fondness that might kill Charley:

"That's sweet." When Charley doesn't answer, he says it again, softer now. "Really sweet, Char." 

Charley refuses to look into Yuri's eyes as he picks up his mug.

Yuri takes a sip, hums. "Still hot." He mumbles.

Charley risks a glance. "You mean the tea?"

Yuri smirks over the rim of his mug. "Yeah. The tea."

Charley's lips quirk.

Charley sips his own tea and immediately grimaces, putting it back down on the counter. Yuri squints, trailing his eyes from Charley's face to the mug.

"You don't like it?" Yuri asks, sipping his own. He seems amused. Which, Charley would be too, he bought all this tea he doesn't like and won't ever drink all for a man who he at the time thought hated him. That's amusing.

Charley shakes his head, exhaling through his nose. 

Yuri puts down his mug next to Charley's, propping one arm against the counter. "At least you tried." 

Charley really takes in how Yuri looks now they're under the light; damp hair edges, the little darkness under his eyes, that mark near his bottom lip, and his arms. His arms are important because Charley wonders how they got so muscly from moving soil and smoking weed. 

Yuri watches him watching. Smiles faintly.

"Are you okay?" Yuri reaches his hand out to Charley's, his thumb on Charley's wrist. Oh god, he might faint.

Yuri can probably feel Charley's heartbeat racing through his skin which is... exciting. Scary, but exciting. 

"Yeah- uh- of course." 

"Hmmm, good." Yuri turns his head toward Charley. "Thank you. For the tea." 

"Uh- you know, I'm glad Dawn isn't here." Charley says.

Granted, Dawn is pretty smart when she needs to be, she said that whole green light thing, but it is nice to be alone with Yuri.

And Charley just finds that so nice, he needs a celebratory kiss from Yuri.

Yuri has the same idea.

They both work in unison.

Kiss, kiss harder, lean back to stare into eachother's eyes longingly, repeat.

Eventually they stumble out of the kitchen, bumping into the shoe rack, couch, lamp and just about everything on their way to Charley's bedroom.

There's a lot of laughing, mostly stemming from the both of them struggling to peel off their wet shirts.

Maybe also the thud of Charley's head hitting the headboard, Yuri's fault.

But they're copacetic.

Charley finally gets to do this.

Gets to do him.

Chapter Text

Sex has always been an interesting concept.

At least to Charley.

It feels great, but it ends sweaty and much too warm most of the time. Both people- or more than that, Charley isn't shaming anyone- are doing the awkward shuffle to clean up, while pretending they aren't doing the awkward shuffle. Charley's heart is hammering faster than it ever has in his coffer of a chest, he is covered in a bucket's worth of sweat, his glasses' arms are bent from not taking them off for the first ten minutes, and his legs are tired because of- that's not important. 

But on the bright side, the palatable side if you will- literally and not so literally- Charley did get a full body 360 of Yuri, which was a real 5D experience, like those movies at the cinema with the red and blue glasses, but there's no screen, and a lot more pleasure involved. Which, Charley's not sure if he reached nirvana, or if he passed out for a minute. Either way, he'll take it. Now though, the high's wearing off. Yuri's lying next to him, staring up at the ceiling, like he didn't put a hole in Charley's ribs. Charley turns his head toward Yuri- who's hair is sticking out in every direction- twisting his body. Yuri seemingly feels the weight distribution shift, and turns his head too. Charley wraps his hand around Yuri's head, fiddling with the hair right at the back. Charley chews at his bottom lip, something he's been doing since elementary school, which his mother calls his 'minor sin'. 

They stay like that for a while, a little too warm for Charley's comfort, but it's a nice little thing he's got. Until a knock at the door. It's always a knock at the door ruining everything in Charley's life. Charley tenses. Yuri groans softly and rolls onto his side, right cheek pressed into a pillow. He mumbles something like 'ignore it'. Knock Knock. Again. Harder.

"Charley? Buddy!" 

Yuri props himself up on one elbow. "That's Wally, you want me to hide?" 

Charley glances down at their state, bare in every sense of the word, sheets tangled, hair in chaos, and grimaces. "Uh, just give me a second." He grabs the first shirt he can find, some stripey one with a green collar he hasn't worn in months, and shoves it on his head. He stumbles into boxers on the way out, feeling Yuri's eyes hot on his back. 

Charley pulls open the door with a tight smile. Wally walks past him.

Charley's never been grateful that Wally's blind to the most obvious of signs of everything. Back when his football buddies were being assholes to Charley in highschool, Wally was convinced they were being friendly in a weird sort of way, until Charley told him otherwise. So, this time, Charley's rather pleased that Wally's too oblivious- or too stupid- to notice the jacket strewn on the floor that'd be too big for Charley- and isn't his style-, or the two mugs on the counter that Wally directly looks at, the slight weed smell, and realise that it means someone else is here, someone with a vintage clothing sense, which isn't an issue for Charley. 

"Wally- I don't need..." Charley trails off, glancing at his bedroom door. He knows very well what's behind that door, and he wants to get back to it, maybe jump some bones- if he wants to be vulgar. Wally isn't purposefully being a cockblock, but he's being one anyway. Had Wally not shown up, Yuri and Charley might just be at Round Two: Electric Boogaloo. Charley can bet even Wally doesn't know why he's here, certainly not to check up on Charley, because all he's talking about is this new protein shake he's using- pea protein? gross.- and how energetic he's been lately. He probably should've ignored the knock like Yuri said, bolted the door shut and stuck to his original plan: lose his mind, clothes, and the ability to walk for about 3 hours. Not the plan of playing 20 questions with Wally in the kitchen. 

Charley's bedroom door creaks open behind him, which can only mean one thing- unless there's a robber in his apartment. 

Charley sees Wally go through the motions that anyone in this situation would, first he looks at Yuri, then Charley, who's currently feeling a molten pink rush all around his face and neck, then to all the little things he didn't question before- he seems to linger especially on the ring Yuri'd put on the counter to stop from it digging into Charley's neck. Wally's eyebrows steadily move up as his jaw moves down. Yuri walks around Charley, which lets him see Yuri's shirtless body in all of it's glory. Wow. Just... wow. 

"Hey, man." Yuri says, picking up his mug from the counter and sipping from it, immediately putting it back down. "That's... cold."

Charley looks down at the floor, trying to hide a smile. He can see his feet on the hardwood, and that's about it. Charley looks back up, and Yuri's leaning against the counter like every male lead in a hallmark movie where the female lead walks in and starts tripping over all of her words as she fawns over the hot shirtless lead. Charley's always liked chick flicks like that. "Yeah- uh- Yuri just- uh-"

"I just woke up." Yuri supplies, immediately letting some pressure out from behind Charley's eyes. "We had a... long night." The pressure's back. Wally lets out a single, quiet "huh" and Charley watches him run through every single possible interpretation of that sentence in real time. Yuri looks over to Charley, cheeks still flushed from earlier activities. Yuri's got a dumb little look on his face that makes Charley want to have his brain to study forever. Wally looks a little less confused by the time Charley looks back.

"No, this makes sense." He nods a little. "You two had that thing-"

"Wally." Charley starts, interrupting him.

"I'm happy for you, dude, yeah, you're all... red. And Yuri looks like he's just walked off set of a very specific indie film, but that's the dream, right?"

What a boner killer. 

Yuri nods along, letting his fingers drum on the counter. This is not ideal for Charley. On their own, both Yuri and Wally are great- for different reasons, obviously, Charley doesn't get gratification from being close to Wally in the same way he does Yuri- but together, ehhh, not so much. Mainly because he can't figure out how he's meant to feel, warmth and fervour of a new love washing over him for Yuri, or the comfort of friendship from being near Wally. It's much too confusing and unfair for Charley. He can only scratch the surface of this all when Wally, still beaming, reaches for his phone. Charley's eyebrows furrow, knowing there's no-one Wally could call in this situation where the results would be good, or even neutral, for Charley.

"Rhon-Rhon! Guess who's at Charley's apartment."

Charley glances over at Yuri, who doesn't seem to have much of a reaction apart from a small tension in his forehead. 

"You, I'm guessing?" Rhonda's voice is loud through Wally's phone speakers.

"Yeah, but that's not why im calling- Yuri's here too."

The other line goes silent for a second, which makes Charley wince. It's a strange silence that always manages to make Charley uncomfortable. Grueling, torturous silence that scratches at your skin and makes you wanna cry like a baby. 

"You're lying."

Wally grins like he's telling a joke only he understands and only he finds funny. Charley does not find it funny.

"Put Charley on." That manages to snap Charley out of his daze, and he's mouthing no no no as Wally hands over the phone with all the enthusiasm of someone throwing a live grenade.

"Hiii... Rhonda..." Charley says, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"You let this strange man inside your house? Are you kidding me, peanut?"

"You've met him before and... I mean..." Charley pauses, taking a second to decide whether he wants to be funny right now and have the chance of annoying Rhonda more than he already is. "He kinda let himself inside me- so.."

"Charley. You cannot be joking around right now. You don't know him Charley, he could be dangerous, like he sells teeth on the internet, or runs a fake passport ring. You do not know where he has been, what he wants, or how he's gonna act when you aren't- you know... God- Charley- I'm on my way." 

"Rhonda- Rhonda no-" 

Beep, beep, beep. 

"She hung up." Charley says, handing the phone back to Wally, who is cheesing. Charley loves Rhonda. Really, he does, but she has this perfected habit of freaking out over the smallest things. It took her a year and a half to start trusting Maddie, who's an all around sweetheart, so Charley can't even imagine how long it'd take for her to trust Yuri, who, Charley can admit, might seem a little antisocial, a little too antisocial for Rhonda to maybe ever trust. For now he's counting down the minutes until his untimely demise, which is slowly getting closer to zero. 

"She's coming here?" Yuri says, walking back around to where Wally and Charley are. Charley nods solemnly, only able to focus on his soon-to-be foundering. Yuri looks down at himself. "Should I put on a shirt?" 

Charley throws himself onto the couch, looking up at Yuri. Charley would love to be ogling at Yuri right now, be all over him, but with a Category-5-Rhonda-Storm on its way, he can't afford to be hot and heavy right now. Charley leans his head back against the arm of the couch, giving himself some form of bliss, staring straight at Yuri's face, before it all gets brought down from its foundation. "Yeah..." He sighs, rubbing his hands down his face. "Probably, yes." 

Yuri mumbles something like 'right', and walks away, leaving Charley cold and alone- not completely alone, of course, there's a useless bone-head jock 15 feet away from him, but also that bone-headed jock just betrayed him by putting a hit on his head. And his sort-of-boyfriends head. He should talk to Yuri about labels eventually. Not now, of course. Might not be the best time. 

When Yuri comes back, he's wearing the shirt he was last night- it's disappointing that Charley doesn't have the opportunity to share his clothes with Yuri, and he won't be able to, probably- which is still a little damp. And he gets back just in time to hear the knock at the door. No, not a knock. A hammering. A knock implies civility, a polite way of asking for someone to respond. This is demanding a response. 

Wally, standing too close to the door, jumps to open it.

As soon as Rhonda's got a big enough gap to get into Charley's apartment, she pushes past Wally, something that shouldn't be so easy, considering.

"CHARLEY PUGLIESE!" oh dear god. "Let me see you." 

She stomps over to him, grabbing at his face like a mother whose son just fell out of a tree. She's in a black and white striped turtleneck and a black paperboy hat. Put some white face paint on her, and she'll look like a mime. "I left Quinn alone for this- I had to tell her it was an emergency- and maybe it was, because if I let this go on any longer, you could get hurt. Wally only knows him through work, and I've met him barely twice. God, peanut." She lets go of his face for one second to glare at Yuri with her hands on her hips. "I should've known. You stopped texting both of us at 1am, when you were all Yuri this, Yuri that. That's the universal way of saying 'I'm gonna go get railed.'"

She grabs his face again, jaw dropping when she tilts his head to the side, which lets her see the part of his neck that's usually hidden by his head. "What is that?" She jabs he thumb into Charley's neck, which makes him yelp out a little 'ow!' sound. "Is that a- god- a hickey?"

Charley flails a little, smacking her arm in the process. "You make it sound like I have a tattoo of his name on my ass."

Rhonda stops stabbing his neck with her thumb and does a 180 to Yuri. "And you. You have the gall to walk around like a vampire and leave your dental imprints everywhere."

Wally, deciding to stop being useless one time, steps in. "Rhonda, maybe you should ease up." He shrugs. "Charley isn't a baby." 

Rhonda glares at Wally before turning back to Charley, a small hint of- maybe, worry in her eyes. It makes sense why she'd worry about other people, especially since high school when Mr Manfredo (Who frankly, Charley thought was a bit weird) completely flipped out on her because he thought they were in some weird relationship. Charley gets it. But it does hurt to see her steamroll over this new relationship, something he's been aching for for a long time now. Charley starts speaking again, quietly, trying to defend this thing he's got going on. "Rhonda... I like him. A lot. And from what I can tell there's no... trying to kill me. No van outside, or any weird syringes, just a guy. Okay, Rhonda?" She exhales out of her nose and turns around to go and talk to Wally. Thank god, she's directing her anger to him now, which gives Yuri an opening to sit next to Charley on the couch. Charley leans his head against Yuri's shoulder.

"Are you sure you want all of this?" He pauses, adds: "The surveillance, Wally, Rhonda... Everything."

Yuri fake ponders for a few seconds, before saying: "It went better than I expected. The people you love are the ones you trust the least because it hurts the most to lose them. I get why she doesn't like me." 

Poetic. 

"She'll come around one day." Yuri says, kissing on his temple gently. 

The perfect moment. 

That gets ruined by the two worst people that could be here at this moment pulling up chairs. 

"We're all here, so we're gonna... talk" Rhonda points from Charley to Yuri, back and forth. "First of all- if you're gonna start a relationship, a real one, with commitment and feelings and shit, god forbid bodily fluids, you can't hide it from the people who have to deal with the fallout. Namely me and Wally."

"Respectfully," Yuri starts, which makes Rhonda look like she's about to throw up. "We weren't hiding it- just engaging in private, uh, scheduled adult activity."

That makes Wally pipe up. "Scheduled? You put it on your Google calendar?" 

Yuri smiles a bit, gripping Charley's hand, which has been lax at his side for a while. Charley pitches in with: "No, but, we both kind of knew. That we'd come back." 

Rhonda, sighs, leaning in conspiratorially. This can't be good for Charley.

"So, he barely talked to you, and suddenly he wants to fuck you? Charley, he is clearly using you for sex."

Her words feel like a sharp stab to the chest, one that's so painful it shuts everyone else up. 

Charley clears his throat, something hard and cold like a stone shoved in there. "You don't get to say that Rhonda, you don't get to assume that about him."

"Charley." Rhonda says, exasperated. "I have to assume things sometimes, I'm just-"

"I'm not using him." Yuri interrupts, looking up from the floor, eyes narrowed. "I know you're just protecting him, but-" Yuri's grip tightens on Charley's hand. "But I do really like him, I could never touch him ever again and I'd still wanna be near him."

Rhonda's eyebrows furrow almost down to the bridge of her nose.

Was that the wrong thing to say?

Or is it the thing that'll save this relationship from hurricane Rhonda?

Chapter Text

About a month ago

Yuri's gone. Charley got out of the shower, and Yuri wasn't there anymore. Did he seriously leave? Before they could really talk, and maybe Charley- like he's been not so gently guided to by Wally- could really talk about his feelings? Now Charley has a conundrum to figure out. He's sitting on his couch, phone in hand, wet hair dripping onto his good throw pillows. The former, he could throw his phone out the window and never go to that store again, or the latter, in which he could message Yuri with some cheesy pick up line he'd hear some guy in his high school use to convince a girl to go to prom with him. 

Charley drums his thumb against the side of his phone, just over the power button in case he needs to abort. Yuri's contact is open on the messages app; the blue default profile picture with the white 'Y' on it really catching Charley's eye. What could he say? There's so many options, each of which he tries out by typing in the little box, like: 'Thanks for the soup, Yuri' deleted, 'I'm glad you and dawn aren't a thing, i wouldn't wanna compete lol' deleted, and 'I didn't really think you'd be a cheater i was just nervous, sorry' which also gets deleted- and leaves Charley with no more ideas. The only real fully pieced together idea he has would be a 6 paragraph rant about how Yuri makes him feel emotions he's never felt before and he gets torn out of his body every time they're near, but that'd be batshit crazy. He scrolls up a few texts, barely going back a day. Hope you're dealing with that hangover well, C. C, a nickname. But it's not one of those cute nicknames that you give someone you're crushing on, like Maneto- which was Charley's code name for a guy he liked in middle school. No, C is more like... a friend-ish nickname. 

God, Charley's so desperate. He's picking apart nicknames like this is gonna matter in a year's time, like Yuri's even gonna remember his name in a year.

Charley feels a freezing cold chill run down his spine at the thought- what will it be like in a year? Maybe Yuri moves on to another guy real fast because Charley's neurotic brain can't figure out how to just send a message- and Charley's left alone with no one to gawk at with the lover boy eyes he rarely gets to put into action. Maybe that time'd be cut down, 6 months, and Charley'll be walking past the plant store like a sad loser trying to see the one that got away, and'll see Yuri with someone he actually likes. Desperate. So, so desperate. 

Charley leans back against the couch once his phone goes dark, making no attempt to turn it back on again, there's no use. Charley isn't gonna message Yuri, Yuri isn't gonna message Charley, the line has been cut. His eyes trace along the popcorn ceiling, making patterns and constellations out of the bumps. Charley could imagine a world where it's not his ceiling he's looking at, but his and Yuri's ceiling, in their apartment, or house, where they have a dog called Iris, with all the personality they could want shown throughout all the rooms, but until Charley can be a man and tell Yuri how he feels, there isn't gonna be an apartment or a dog called Iris for a long time. Charley blinks a few times, shaking his head free from the thick fog of 'maybes' swirling in front of him. Charley every second or two looks over to his phone, just sitting there, unresponsive. There's no notification like Charley internally hopes for, no 'Hey, can we talk?', just a black screen. For all Charley knows, Yuri could've been hit by a truck when he was leaving Charley's apartment, all of his remains splattered on the road, which- and it's hard to admit- might be better than Yuri, for no apparent reason, starting to regret everything he's said. 

It is nice wallowing sometimes, because Charley gets to put himself in that world he's made up- the dog, the loving boyfriend, husband maybe, the home that's his- just for a few minutes before he snaps out of it and is reminded he's crazy and that that'll never happen. But, there are other times when he starts reminiscing on the past, but he comes back to the present just in time to hear:

'I do really like him, I could never touch him again and I'd still want to be near him."

And suddenly he's back in his apartment, with Yuri's hand gripped around his so tight that he can feel Yuri's nails digging into the back of his hand; which works as a neat little reminder that this is real, and his two best friends taking up too much space in the apartment for his liking. 

"Cute." Rhonda says, smugly, like she has him all figured out. "You're good at saying what people want to hear. What did you two actually do earlier? Hm?" Rhonda puts her hands on her hips again, leaning in close enough that she'd call it 'hovering'. 

"We took it slow, if you're worried I hurt him. A lot of kissing. Skin on skin." He says it all so calmly, like this is a daily conversation for him. Jesus, is it easy to talk about awkward things when he's around. Charley can see Wally, still sat behind Rhonda, grimace like he just heard all of the gory details of a murder without his consent; Charley's pretty sure what happened between him and Yuri wasn't exactly gory.

"If you're... ugh... I need details. You can tell a lot about a man by how he has sex, Yuri." She spits out his name like a slur, one that burns her to regurgitate. Charley can give her this though, she isn't wrong about that sentiment at all. Charley already had an idea that Yuri was too good to be true, but after that rendez-vous, that idea is set like concrete. 

"Mostly quiet. Close. Charley likes being held, so I make sure he is." God, what a thing to reveal. Charley isn't upset, this trainwreck of a conversation could help set the stage for a sort-of friendship between Rhonda and Yuri, but there's no way to stop the heat that stabs it's way up Charley's neck all the way to his ears. Rhonda doesn't seem too changed by that though.

"Safe, right? You could have hepatitis Z for all he knows, none of us want Charley catching anything from your grubby little... god." Charley has to look down to conceal the small smile that gets pulled onto his face. Speaking of... he does need to buy some more protection. He didn't expect to need any. Not really anyway. The last pack he bought was more like a hopeful thing, like when you buy a lottery ticket assuming you won't ever cash in, but now he's down some and it feels wrong not getting some more. He shifts his weight on the couch, wondering if Yuri'd be into flavoured ones, or the glow-in-the-dark kind- no, he thinks, that's insane, no one actually buys those. But is Yuri the type of guy to have opinions on stuff like that?

God.

He also needs lube, probably. The bottle he has only has about a third of it left, and it might be old enough to legally vote. He could go down to the drug store later, which if he does need to get some snacks too, not because he plans on being hungry, but just buying lube and condoms makes you seem like an asshole. Maybe he's being too aspirational because there's no-

"That's a priority." 

Oh.

Right.

He's still in this conversation. 

Yuri knocks his knee against Charley's, giving him an extra boost back into his brain. He does need to be fully in control to reap the full benefits of being near Yuri. 

"At least they're using protection. No pregnancy, hey?" Wally chimes in. Rhonda spins around so sharp she might sprain her neck from the whiplash. She whisper shouts something like 'They're both men, moose.' and Wally shrugs. "I was just tryna lighten the mood." 

"Alright, so you held him. Great. I'm sure that was very enjoyable. Am I expected to burst into tears and apologise for ever caring about Charley?" 

"No. You're expected to recognise when you aren't the only one who cares about him." She opens her mouth to speak, but Yuri cuts in, calmly, deliberately. "I held him because he wanted to be held. Not because I predicted you'd be here and that I have to prove something to you."

Rhonda's eyes droop down, looking like she half expects a punchline. Yuri adds, softer now: "I don't need you to like me. I don't need you grilling me either."

Rhonda stares at him for a long second, recalibrating, then comes the punchline- "Huh." 

Yuri looks like he's won the battle. Proud. Everyone there knows he has a few more to fight until he wins the war, but one win is better than none. If Charley were younger, stupider, he'd probably be fighting right alongside Yuri, passionately too, like he's the knight and Rhonda's the dragon he fights at first, but will eventually learn to tame, and then they're all friends again, woo-hoo. But Charley's a grown man. He likes to believe that he's young- and smart- and maybe he is, but he's old enough- and has known Rhonda for long enough- to know how to deal. Speaking of- he would've been thrilled to have met Yuri back in highschool, back when he was young enough to laugh his ass off running from the cops without getting random back pain, and Yuri seems like he would've been the type of guy to climb trees. God, Charley would've had a full-blown crush on him in 10th grade. Watching from across the lunch room, heart hammering if they were put in a group project, writing poems in the margins of his maths books that he'd tear out and shove in the bottom of his bag never to be seen again. Maybe some things don't change when you grow up. 

Charley makes eye contact with Wally, who gives him a little are you seeing this? your boyfriend's a charm look/nod mix, and yes to Yuri is a charm. Because he knows exactly what to say and mean it. 

"Well." Rhonda claps. "I best- go and catch up with Quinn. Wally, come on."

Yuri defeated the dragon. At least until it gets back up to blow fire in their faces again. 

Wally stands up, waving to them both. 

And they leave. 

Just like that. 

Charley leans back against the couch once the door clicks shut, hands over his face. He feels the shift in the couch cushions and warmth flushing through his skin as Yuri leans over to kiss just above his ear. 

so unfortunately i am ending pine-ing here. pine-ing is dead. It wasn't ever meant to progress this far, but i kept putting off writing my magnum opus so it's end was left... not here. i suppose. if anyone wants to pick this up for me or smth feel free, frankly i probably wont ever touch this again