Chapter Text
Charles leaves the headmaster’s office with an itch under his skin, words like “impressionable young minds” and “the importance of your studies” bouncing around in his head. He thought it would be an easy sell—change the ancient rule about boys “fraternising” to get with modern times. But old Werner just sat there arguing against it like he was on the right side of history.
Fucking infuriating.
He drops heavily into a seat at his and Edwin’s lunch table, slinging his bag off his shoulder and onto the ground.
“It didn’t go well, I take it?” Edwin asks, barely looking up from his book.
“Bloody bigot.” Charles’s leg starts bouncing under the table.
Edwin looks up and his gaze softens. “I told you it wasn’t worth it.”
It is, though, is the thing. Edwin shouldn’t be forced to sneak around if he dates someone—or even worse, be single until uni like he’s been threatening. (Edwin insists he’s not interested in dating or anything that comes with it, but Charles has eyes. And clearly so does Edwin.) Edwin is the best bloke on the planet and Charles’s best mate, even though they’ve only known each other a year. It feels like it should have been longer since Edwin offered to help Charles catch up on coursework after he transferred to St. Hilarions midway through year eleven; Edwin’s become such a fixture in his life that he can’t really remember who he was without him.
Edwin turns back to his book like that’s the end of the conversation. He’s so bloody sure of himself, all the time, while Charles couldn’t even tell you how tall he is now after the summer, let alone about anything he feels.
Edwin deserves to have someone. He deserves to at least have the option.
“We should date,” he says suddenly, and Edwin’s head snaps up.
“We should what?”
Charles laughs, trying to let out some of the rush that he feels at coming up with a truly mint idea. “Come on, mate, it’ll be brills! We’ll show these old white guys how far behind on the times they are, and they’ll either be forced to change the rule or we can drag their names through the mud.”
But Edwin isn’t smiling. He’s clearly trying to keep his face smooth, which means he’s worried. Charles has no idea what that could be about.
“Charles, you’re straight,” Edwin points out.
Is that all he’s worried about? “They don’t need to know that! Could be bi, couldn’t I? Pan, experimenting, newly out the closet, whatever! Point is, they shouldn’t be telling us it’s not allowed. It’s utter shite.”
Edwin’s mouth presses into a line.
“Come on, Edwin,” Charles needles. “It’ll be fun. We can start it lowkey and see how long it takes until they break. Too bad we don’t have dances, it would be aces to go together, wouldn’t it?”
For a moment, there’s a look on Edwin’s face that Charles can’t read, which is weird. Charles thought they were past that stage in their friendship. As quick as a flash, though, the look is gone, replaced by the exasperated fondness that he often has on his face when he looks at Charles.
Charles bloody loves that look.
Edwin sighs. “What did you have in mind?”
Charles resists the urge to pump his fist in the air.
When the bell rings, Charles grabs his bag in one hand and offers Edwin the other with a grin and waggling fingers. “No time like the present, right?”
Edwin eyes it dubiously before taking it. “Indeed.”
It’s odd, holding hands as they head to class, but not in a bad way. It’s not like he and Edwin don’t walk shoulder to shoulder most of the time, anyway. They get a few looks, mostly because Charles can’t help but talk with his hands, even when one of them is linked with Edwin’s. Charles isn’t stupid enough to think that their little peaceful protest will only attract the attention of the staff, but he’s dealt with bullies all his life. They’ll get through it like they do everything else: together.