Work Text:
Charley and Yuri haven't had much down time recently. Between Simon and van heidt and the fight to cross over, their schedules have been full; so when they finally get a spare half hour to have a lay down in the art room and just forget, they're going to take it.
Yuri lets out a sigh- deep enough that Charley feels his chest sink down under his head. "You know how you said... I'm allowed to lose my shit?" Charley perks up. "And- I don't need to. But I figured I'd tell you how I feel, at least."
He inhales in again, chest puffing up. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm not good enough. For you."
Charley lets a choked laugh slip out, no matter how much he really tried not to. He doesn't mean to seem so rude, but... he thinks he's done a pretty good job at making his whole 'I'm super in love with you' thing obvious- at least when he's not storming away.
"Please, Yuri... it took a week of us knowing eachother for me to crawl after you. I think I would've been stuck on Emilio like, forever if you didn't come along. And, trust me, there wasn't much material there to reminisce about."
"Ditto." Yuri mumbles, stupefied, and Charley gets a short spark of pride from making him so flustered. "Do you, uh, ever feel like that?"
What a stupid question, he can't help but think. Of course he feels like that. He's never stopped feeling like that, even during the nights where the only thing he can feel is Yuri's weight practically crushing him, even the days he feels Yuri's hand slip into his when they're lounging around with the others in the library, or the workshop, or wherever they happen to be. He can always feel it trying to pull him back and reset all the work he- and Yuri- have put in.
He lets out a sad, shaky laugh, pressing his head harder against Yuri's chest. His hand goes to Yuri's, wrapping his fingers around Yuri's wrist, rubbing at the pulse point with his thumb, like an anchor.
"I feel like that just about every day, Yuri..." He admits, scrunching his face up like he's putting every ounce of effort into making his words sound reasonable. They aren't, he knows that. God, he's known that since day one, this guy, this strong, handsome guy, decided to talk to him. Of all people. He knows it's real, if he could just get the lizard part of his brain to realise that. "You're... you seem so capable. And i'm..." He gestures vaguely at his own body. "This."
Yuri's silent for a second, lips quirking up. "This? Am I supposed to think this is not a knockout?" Yuri slides his hand down to Charley's waist, which makes him let out a short huffed laugh.
Charley'd like to think he's gotten used to the constant compliments, but theyre still like croc clips being snapped onto his nerves each time. "Shut up..." He murmurs. The one thing Charley misses from life is going to the lake with his parents and his brother in the summer and laying under the warm sun, covering himself in coconut scented sunscreen and relaxing into whatever towel he'd laid out. Obviously, he can't get that back, but god, this is about as close to the feeling of the rays against his skin he'll ever get again. The rocking of their little boat has only gotten rougher as time goes on, but being with Yuri eases the sea sickness at least a little.
Yuri shifts under him to get closer, pressing a soft kiss just above Charley's ear. "I've still gotta make up for 50 years of shutting up yet, babe..."
Charley tilts his head up. It strains his neck a little, but being exhausted from work you used to pray for is a privelige, huh? There's so much Charley still has to learn about ghost-'life', apparently, because a decade or two ago, he probably wouldn't have known or cared to know that ghost's pupils can dilate, but now, looking into Yuri's eyes, washed over with a blanket of haze and blown up, it's all he wants to think about. He's always thought Yuri had pretty eyes, like a terrier's, even when he wasn't close enough to really see them, but being practically nose to nose now, it's like seeing into the eyes of Nyx, reflecting every constellation back to him. Maybe he is spending too much time with Yuri.
Yuri glances down to his lips, his own breaking out into a shit eating grin. "Not gonna tell me I smell this time?"
Charley's track record isn't great, seemingly. In his defense, he wouldn't exactly be wrong to say Yuri doesn't smell great, he's been collecting the weed and clay smell for 5 decades, but it's nothing against Wally's constant hint of BO stench he wishes could be washed off. And that time, anyway, Charley saved their asses.
He decides not to dignify that with a response, leaning in for a kiss instead. His grip loosens and eventually drops from Yuri's wrist, going to grip the back of his neck instead, pulling him in. Yuri follows, the both of them working in tandem. When they finally meet, Charley closes his eyes. That part of kissing is something he's never quite understood, not since Wally's reunion anyway. If it were up to him, Charley'd have his eyes on Yuri for the rest of eternity, and it just doesn't seem fair he has to pick between doing the Beethoven and working solely off of feeling or not being able to really luxuriate in it.
Yuri shifts again, pressing closer into Charley; forcing his glasses so deep inwards he swears he can hear the hinges squeaking, about to pop. Yuri notices too, tilting his head to make enough space to take off Charley's glasses, folding them up and putting them on the couch arm. Yuri takes a second to let his eyes graze over Charley's face.
"You look so different without your glasses on." Yuri whispers.
"In a good way?" Charley says with a small, awkward smile.
"In a good way."
Charley sucks in his lower lip, pushing down a grin like a kid being told he's going to disney land. His hands find Yuri's back, gripping the fabric of his shirt. Not like there's much to grab, anyway, it's like a second skin; but at least it means Charley doesn't have to use much of his imagination. Yuri moves back in, eyes on Charley's the whole time.
Charley smiles into it, running his hand back up to scratch through Yuri's hair. He never really thought he'd be into the whole grown out 70s look, not quite like he is now anyways. He'd always assumed he'd get to college, meet a handsome, well kept guy who wants him more than anything else and they'd be happy together forever. He's atleast got 3 out of 5, even if it took 30 years to get there.
They're just barely getting into it when Charley pulls back. He feels bad doing it, but he really needs to. He presses his face into Yuri, nose tucked into the hollow where his neck meets his shoulder. Yuri moves to pet Charley's hair, effectively ruining his curls.
"You okay?"
"Mhm.." He lifts his head up, his chin resting on Yuri's collarbone. "I like this. A lot. Just wanted to tell you that.
Yuri's eyes go half-lidded, amused. "You do this everytime, man."
Charley scoffs. He knows he does, but he can't help it. "Well I'm sorry, man."
Yuri leans in, just pecking Charley's lips, before relaxing back against the couch cushions. Charley follows suit, falling back into him. "Makes you glad we never have to meet eachother's parents, huh?"
Charley doesn't even wanna imagine it. He had a nice family and all, decent sized family home, kind parents, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't totally embarass him every chance they got, hanging up the worst pictures of him they could find. His brother wasn't much better. He was young when Charley died, ten, he's sure. He'd kill to see him again, sure, but even when Emilio would come round all his little brother would do is barge into his room, ask Emilio dumb questions to try and get dirt on Charley, and be an all around nuisance. And that was when his family thought Emilio was just a close friend. He still remembers the bruises that littered his arms from being shot with a nerf gun every time he was caught with his guard down.
When Yuri notices Charley's not answering, he continues. "Thank god for that, too. All my dad's nicknames for me, woulda withered before we even got upstairs." Charley'd never considered much what Yuri's parents were like. He knows barely anything. Nothing, actually.
"Yeah? Any better than my nicknames for you?"
Yuri huffs a laugh. "There was Yurochka, Ptichka, uh, Penny-" When Charley tilts his head, Yuri pauses. "Used to pick up every penny I'd find when I was a kid, apparently. Had a whole big pot of 'em."
Charley can't help but smile at that.
"Yeah, that one was his favourite when I had people round."
Charley sighs, pushing his tongue against his top canine tooth. Charley's parents hadn't ever given him a nickname, as far as he can remember. "My parents had a photo of me hung up in the kitchen from when I was fifteen... we were visiting florida for the week, and I dropped the icecream they'd bought me on the floor. My dad thought it'd be funny to take a picture and get it printed." He moves his hand to rest under his head. "I think it's the worst I've ever looked."
"Not possible." Yuri murmurs, fluffing up Charley's hair again. "Think your parents would've liked me?"
"Yeah, I mean, you're not exactly a rebel... you're sweet... and funny, and my mom always kinda liked art."
Honestly, Charley isn't sure whether or not his parents were upset about his being gay. By the time Emilio left that night, it was already late and he felt like he was going to be sick, so they just told him to go to bed and they'd talk about it as a family after school the next day. Lucky him.
"I think my dad would've asked you to make him a pot. Um, he was a gardener."
Yuri snickers, slipping his hand around to swipe his thumb over Charley's eyebrow. "Yeah? Would that have gotten me his blessing?"
"Mm... maybe, maybe not.. But I'd get to watch you do pottery, which is always a turn-on." Yuri's hand pauses for a second before going back to Charley's hair. "My brother wouldn't have let you get through the door before beating you with this red plastic bat he had though."
He'd bought it when they were in the city with money he got from some bake sale at his elementary and spent the entire car ride back hitting Charley over the head with it. He's sure by the time they got back he had a concussion. Unfortunately, with the age difference, Charley knew he couldn't get away with hitting him back, especially not with his mom in the car.
"Always sorta wished I had a sibling. Might've given my parents someone else to always hover over."
Charley's hand comes up to meet Yuri's, holding it still against his head. He doesn't answer that, doesn't know how to. He wishes he could've been there when Yuri was alive, soothed him down from his troubles, or at least taken some of the load off.
"I think my parents would've liked you." Yuri finally says.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. 'M sure my mom would've liked to give you the shotgun talk, sure, but... I think you're exactly what they wanted for me." Yuri mumbles, nodding to himself.
Charley smiles, feeling a heavy pressure in his sinuses. He cries too much, he's sure, but this time around it's not because he's sad or mad at himself. Knowing, or even slightly believing, that they might've possibly accepted him and thought he was good for Yuri is more exhilirating to him than any drug, thrill ride, or game could ever be.
"Plus, you're real keen on how you're styled. They would've liked that. Always complained I didn't care if i looked shaggy or not."
Charley shifts up to kiss Yuri. He can barely reach, but he manages a short peck on the edge of Yuri's lips before going back down.
"You make me sound like I'm obsessed with how I look." Charley lets his hand flop to his own chest.
"You make me wait for you everytime we pass a mirror so you can fix your hair." Yuri says, choking out a laugh midway through, losing his composure.
Charley lets his eyes flutter closed.
"I love you." Yuri says in earnest.
Charley can't suppress the smirk that pulls at his face. "I love you too."