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“Y’know,” Adam grinned into Charlie’s shoulder, “when you invited me over—”
“I didn’t invite you,” Charlie corrected. “You asked if I wanted to go to your house, I said no, then you asked if you could come here, and I said yes.”
Adam kissed his neck and wrapped his arms around him. “Same difference,” he said. “Either way, when I came over, I thought we might do something more fun than you writing a paper.”
Charlie blindly reached back until his hand landed on Adam’s shoulder. He leaned his head backward and turned to look at him. “Well, this paper’s due on Monday,” he whined.
Adam kissed Charlie’s cheek, giving him puppy dog eyes when he pulled away.
Charlie didn’t relent. “The longer you distract me, the longer it takes me to finish this.”
Adam groaned dramatically and untangled himself from Charlie. He walked backward until he hit the bed, then flopped down on the mattress.
“Just give me five minutes to finish the conclusion,” Charlie offered, “then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Whatever I want?” he hummed.
Charlie turned around in his chair. “Within reason.”
Adam smirked. “Fine. I’ll just be here, alone, bored, in your bed.”
“Didn’t you bring your Game Boy or something?”
Adam rolled his eyes but stood up and fished through the backpack that he’d tossed in the corner. He pulled the device out and curled up in Charlie’s bed, occasionally looking up to see if the other boy was done.
After almost ten minutes, Adam looked up and met Charlie’s eyes. “You done?” he asked.
Charlie smirked and stood up, walking to the bed and laying down beside him.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Adam muttered, rolling over and setting his Game Boy on a nightstand.
“You were playing your game,” Charlie argued, “you couldn’t’ve been that bored.”
Adam grabbed Charlie by the shirt and pulled him closer. “But I’d rather be entertained by you,” he pouted.
Charlie laughed, rolling his eyes, but closed the space between them, pressing his lips to Adam’s. “This what you had in mind?”
Adan smirked. In lieu of responding, he rolled onto his back and pulled Charlie on top of him. Charlie didn’t need any further instruction, immediately lowering himself down so his body was flush with Adam’s as their lips moved together. He grabbed one of Adam’s hands and lifted it up to the pillow, interlocking their fingers. Adam’s other hand threaded through Charlie’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer and keeping him there.
Charlie moved down to mouth at Adam’s neck, enjoying the breathless state he’d put him in.
“Charlie,” Adam panted, “if I leave this room with hickeys that your mom can see, we won’t be allowed in the same ZIP code anymore. And then she’ll tell my parents, and I won’t be allowed anywhere anymore.”
Charlie bit his neck lightly. “This was your idea,” he said incredulously
“My idea was for you to take a break from your paper.”
“Mhm,” Charlie hummed, sitting back on the other boy’s thighs, “your idea was for me to do you instead of my homework.” He laughed as Adam’s face reddened.
“You’re putting words into my mouth.”
Charlie leaned back down, hovering an inch over Adam. “Would you rather have something else in your mouth?”
“Yeah,” Adam said quietly, trying to feign confidence, “yours.” He surged up to reunite their lips, tugging Charlie with him when he collapsed back into the pillow.
“Real smooth, Banks,” Charlie said between breaths.
Adam smirked.
A knock at the door tore them apart.
“Dinner’ll be ready in about five minutes,” Casey called.
Thankfully, the door stayed shut, allowing the boys to smooth their hair and clothes.
“Okay,” Charlie said, hoping his mom couldn’t hear the nervousness in his voice. “We’ll be out in a minute. I’m finishing my paper and Adam’s finishing a game.”
“Come set the table whenever you’re done.”
The next morning, Casey was awake far earlier than the boys. She’d learned that, when they had nowhere to go on weekends, teenagers didn’t get out of bed until lunchtime. Hers didn’t, at least.
She sat on the sofa, sipping a cup of coffee as she skimmed through the newspaper. She wasn’t expecting company, so when she heard a knock on the door, she peered suspiciously through the peephole. She instantly relaxed and opened the door when she saw Gordon Bombay standing in the hallway.
“Gordon,” she smiled, letting him inside, “what are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I was just in the neighborhood—”
“And you wanted free coffee?”
Gordon chuckled. “Well, if you’re offering…”
Casey stood up and walked to the kitchen.
“Charlie here?” Gordon asked.
“Yeah,” she called, “he’s still in bed. You know teenagers. Adam’s here, too. His parents are visiting his brother.”
He nodded. “Your husband what’s-his-name here?”
“Richard,” she told him, for the umpteenth time. “He had to go into work today.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t he work at a school?” he chuckled. “Thought those were closed on weekends.”
“So you can listen,” Casey smirked, bringing him a mug. “He said it was some urgent emergency. He should be back by lunchtime.”
Gordon looked at his watch. “I’ll be gone by then.”
Casey sighed. “Charlie too, probably. And Adam.”
“Want me to go wake ‘em up?” Gordon offered. “We can go out for lunch or something, and I’ll bring ‘em back to you when we’re done.”
“You can if you want,” Casey smiled. “Be my guest.”
Gordon had already set his mug on the coffee table and was going through the apartment toward Charlie’s bedroom. He opened the door, preparing to cause some sort of ruckus to wake up the teenagers, but he froze. It took him only a second to recognize them, but several more to figure out what was happening. He stepped backward and shut the door, quietly turning around and walking back to Casey. She looked up as he came into the living room, immediately concerned by the look on his face as he stared at the ground.
Gordon cleared his throat. “They’re, uh…” he looked up at her, hoping she could read his mind without him having to take a guess. “They’re very close…”
She sighed, immediately understanding. She’d walked in on the same scene multiple times before. “They haven’t told me anything,” she said softly, “and I don’t know how to ask them about it.”
Gordon nodded.
“I love my son,” Casey continued, beginning to ramble, “and, with how much time he and Adam have spent together over the past five years, he’s basically another son. And I just… I don’t want them to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t know how to ask them about any of this.”
Whenever Adam stayed over, he always woke up before Charlie, but he rarely got out of bed before him. He liked taking the extra time to watch the other boy, or to cuddle closer after drifting away in their sleep, or both.
Charlie was on his side, facing away from him, but Adam simply pressed himself into his back, resting his forehead on the back of Charlie’s neck, and tossed an arm around his body. The other boy didn’t stir, and Adam closed his eyes. Charlie felt like a space heater, but he didn’t mind. Adam was already wearing only boxers, so there wasn’t much more he could do—moving farther away wasn’t an option.
His eyes snapped open when he heard the door slam shut, and he felt his heart drop. He quickly sat up, eyes glued on the door in case it opened again. He spent a minute trying to figure out if he had dreamt it or not.
He shook Charlie’s shoulder gently, making him growl but getting him conscious.
“I think your mom came in,” he said quietly.
Just like Adam, Charlie bolted upright. His eyes went wide. “What?”
“I just saw the door close.”
Charlie swallowed roughly. He quickly jumped out of bed and ran out of his room, sliding to a stop in the doorway before the living room. “Mom, I don’t know what you—”
It was then that he noticed the other person in the room. At first he assumed it was his stepfather, but he quickly realized that it wasn’t.
“Hey Coach,” he said, immediately filled with more fear than before.
Gordon smiled. “Hey, Charlie.”
Charlie stood awkwardly. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say.
“You should go get Banks.” Gordon suggested. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”
The boy’s jaw hung slightly open as gears turned in his head. He hoped that his mom had mentioned Adam’s presence, but, with his luck, he worried that the coach was the one who had caught them asleep together.
He nodded briefly and turned to go back to his room. He opened the door slowly, seeing Adam standing fully-clothed beside the bed.
“Coach Bombay’s here,” Charlie said absently.
Adam’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Bombay’s here,” he repeated. “He wants to see you.”
Charlie started walking back to the living room before Adam could respond, so he just followed silently. Sure enough, Gordon was sitting on the couch with Casey. Adam stood just behind Charlie, staring back at them.
“Hi, Coach,” Adam said, hoping nobody noticed the slight quaver in his voice.
“Hey Banks.” Gordon took a sip of his coffee. “Good to see you.”
Adam nodded.
Gordon looked between the two boys, and they both felt like they could have heart attacks on the spot under that scrutiny.
“Charlie, is Adam taller than you now?” Gordon smirked.
“No,” Charlie said quickly, straightening up his posture.
Adam chuckled, slightly relieved. “Charlie doesn’t know how to stand up straight,” he told Gordon.
Charlie whipped his head around but bit his tongue to avoid saying anything incriminating.
“Oh, I see now,” Gordon nodded, seemingly oblivious. “Yeah, he’s still taller.”
Charlie cleared his throat. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came over for coffee,” he answered, lifting his mug slightly for emphasis. “Then I thought I might take you two to lunch, if you want. Then maybe we can round up the team.” He shrugged. “Haven’t planned that far.”
The boys nodded. “Alright,” Charlie said, looking at Adam for confirmation, “lunch sounds good. We’ll go get ready.”
Before they could turn around, Gordon added, “Hope I didn’t wake you up too early. You guys looked pretty comfortable.”
Both boys felt their blood run cold, realizing that it was Bombay who had discovered them. They stared silently, holding their breath, frozen in place. They waited for either Gordon or Casey to say anything else. Even if they started screaming and condemning them, they couldn’t endure the tense silence any longer.
“I don’t mind,” Gordon finally told them. He could see some of the nervousness leaving their bodies, but they were still on alert. He leisurely took a sip of coffee. “Go get ready. I’ll wait here.”
Adam nodded quickly and pulled Charlie back toward the bedroom. Once the door was shut behind them, they finally exhaled.
“That wasn’t real,” Adam said, dazed. “That didn’t happen. That…”
“Went surprisingly well,” Charlie finished. He met Adam’s wide, frantic eyes, and decided to go in for a joke. “Now what was that about me not standing up straight?”
Adam laughed, and Charlie felt his heart swell at the sound. “You can’t,” he said simply. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulders and straightened his spine, making him grow an inch or two.
“Whataver,” he huffed. “The only straight thing you can do is skate.”
“Says you.”
“Hey,” Charlie grinned, giving Adam a gentle shove, “I’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Remind me how long that lasted?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and turned away. Adam grabbed his arm and spun his back. “Come here,” he whispered, already tugging him in. He cupped Charlie’s cheeks and kissed him, waiting until he leaned in to pull back.
“I’d say it worked out pretty well,” Charlie smiled, trying to go in for another kiss.
Adam entertained him for a few seconds, then stepped back. “We should get ready,” he told him, smirking at Charlie’s dramatic frown. “We don’t wanna keep Bombay waiting.”
Adam left, turning down the hall to the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later with freshly combed and neatly styled hair. Charlie had changed out of his threadbare pajamas into regular clothes, and he quickly ran a hand through Adam’s hair.
“Come on,” Adam groaned, “what was that for?”
“You look better with messy hair,” Charlie smirked.
Adam grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door, but Charlie yanked him back. “You’re not wearing that,” he declared.
Adam looked down at his clothes—a Nine Inch Nails tee shirt and jeans—then back at the other boy. “What’s wrong with it?”
“That’s my shirt,” Charlie laughed.
Adam raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” Charlie nodded. Adam shrugged. He looked back down at the shirt. “Didn’t you steal this from Fulton?”
“No,” Charlie defended, “it was a gift.”
Adam hummed. “I think I’ve worn it more than you have.”
Charlie smirked as he slid his hand under the shirt, lifting the fabric up as his hands made their way up to Adam’s chest. Adam helped pull it over his head. He let the other boy’s hand linger for a few seconds before he stepped away. Charlie stared unabashed, eyes tracing the lean muscles.
Adam chucked the shirt at his head before he dug through his bag for one of his own, pulling on a white shirt with the St. Louis Blues logo. He pushed Charlie out the door in front of him, meeting Gordon and Casey on the couch.
“Grab your skates and sticks,” Gordon instructed. The boys ran back to Charlie’s bedroom, returning seconds later with their roller blades and sticks slung over their shoulders and their pads already on.
“Be safe,” Casey requested, following them to the door. “Make good choices.”
Charlie slid into the passenger seat of Gordon’s car, and Adam sat behind him, tossing their stuff in the empty space next to him. Adam was on the edge of the cushion, hands on the shoulders of Charlie’s seat and face next to the headrest.
“So,” Gordon inquired as he drove, “how long have you two been… together?”
Charlie looked at Adam over his shoulder. “Few months.”
“Five,” Adam elaborated.
Charlie smirked and blindly reached his left hand backward, cupping Adam’s cheek. “Aw, I thought the only numbers you knew were Gretzky’s jerseys.”
Adam shook his hand away. “The only number you know is your own.”
Gordon cleared his throat, reminding the boys that he was also there. “How’d it happen?”
Charlie smirked. “Luis got us invited to this party at the end of last school year, and Adam got really drunk—”
“I was not that drunk,” he tried to argue.
“No, you were really drunk.” He turned to Gordon. “He was, like, can’t even walk by himself drunk,” he laughed. “So I was taking care of him—”
“You make it sound so noble,” Adam laughed.
Charlie turned around in his seat. “If you remembered any of that night, you could add to the story.” He turned back forward. “So anyway, he was really drunk. I got him on the bus and took him to my house because I wasn’t gonna take him to his house, and he fell asleep on the bus, so I had to carry him inside.”
“Then I made the very bold decision—”
“The very drunk decision,” Charlie laughed, “to kiss me. He’s lucky it worked out.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like I’m the only one who benefited. And then Charlie didn’t talk to me for a week.”
“That’s not even true!” Charlie yelled. “I talked to you at practice every day.”
“That doesn’t count,” Adam argued. “You have to talk to me at practice. You avoided me like the plague off the ice.”
“I was giving you space. We were figuring things out.”
Adam leaned forward and poked his cheek. “I had to kidnap you to make you talk to me again.” Charlie blushed.
Gordon chuckled, smiling at the way the boys looked at each other. “Anybody else know about you two?”
Adam shrugged. “Nobody’s—”
“Half the team, probably,” Charlie said confidently. Adam turned to give him a confused stare, but Charlie’s look dared him to disagree. “I’m pretty sure Fulton knows, and if he knows, then Portman knows. I think Guy might also know, and if he knows, Connie knows, and if she knows, Julie knows.”
“But they don’t know,” Adam argued.
Charlie sighed. “Keep telling yourself that.” He patted Adam’s shoulder fondly.
“So, if you think half the team knows, what’s stopping you from actually telling them?” Gordon asked.
The boys stared at each other, then at the coach. “Fear,” was the answer they agreed on.
“Come on, you guys know the Ducks. They won’t care.”
Adam shrugged. “You never know. They might say they don’t care, but they hate us on the inside.”
“I don’t think they’d hate us,” Charlie said, turning his body to look at Adam. “I mean, Coach is right, we know the Ducks. I’ve known a lot of them since elementary school. I don’t think any of them are like that.”
Adam stared blankly at him, so Charlie turned to Bombay and muttered an “Excuse us, Coach,” before unbuckling his seat belt and climbing into the back seat. Both Adam and Gordon yelled at him, but he landed in the back seat, halfway on top of Adam, with a cocky grin.
“Ignore us,” he said to the front seat, then pulled Adam against the back rest with him. “Do you actually think the Ducks would hate us? I mean, we’ve argued like an old married couple for years, I don’t think much would change if they find out.”
Adam shrugged. “It’s not like I think they’d all just turn on us or anything,” he mumbled, “but you never really know what someone'll do if something happens until something happens.”
“But I can be pretty sure,” Charlie argued.
Adam took a deep breath. “You can, yeah. I can’t.”
Charlie looked into his eyes, trying to read his mind behind them. “We won’t tell them for a bit then,” he finally whispered, “okay?”
Adam gave a small smile and nodded.
Lunch went off without a hitch, and then the three separated to round up the rest of the Ducks. Gordon drove to Eden Hall and picked up the dormers, and Charlie and Adam went around Minneapolis to find the rest of their friends. They all met at the basketball court, and the game quickly swept them up.
The team decided that it was a no-duo day, so the usual pairs got split up on different teams. Connie and Guy, Portman and Fulton, and Adam and Charlie.
The Ducks were high on life, faces stuck in smiles as they played to their heart’s content. There was never any pressure when they played on the street, and it always made them enjoy the game even more.
Adam was on a breakaway with Charlie chasing as fast as he could. Adam shot the puck into the can before he was caught, but Charlie didn’t manage to stop in time. He slowed down, but still slammed Adam into the fence, and they both crashed to the ground.
“Sorry,” Charlie groaned, standing up. After a quick assessment, he determined that he wasn’t seriously injured, and he held a hand out to help the other boy to his feet. “You okay?”
Adam nodded. “I think I’ll feel that tomorrow,” he rubbed his ribs, “but nothing’s broken.”
“You sure?” Charlie gave him a once-over, wanting to make sure that Adam wasn’t hiding any pain from him.
Adam jumped up and down a couple times and waved his arms, proving that his body was in perfect working order. Charlie couldn’t help but grin.
“Charlie!” Fulton yelled. “Stop making heart eyes and grab the puck!”
Charlie was stunned for a moment, wondering if he misheard or misunderstood. “What?”
Fulton raised an eyebrow. He gestured at Adam, then at Charlie. “Grab the puck.”
“What did you—”
Adam poked Charlie with his stick, giving him a shut up look, and reached into the can for the puck.
“We’re not as clueless as you think we are,” Fulton laughed as the pair skated back to the group.
Both Charlie and Adam froze, mouths slightly agape as they scrambled for words. Adam felt like he got the wind knocked out of him, and when he finally got his breath back, it came in short gasps. Charlie wanted to fight back, but he couldn’t find an argument.
“Charlie,” Guy smirked, “Adam’s staying at your house. You don’t have a guest bed.”
Charlie stammered. “We have a couch.”
Guy smirked. “Does Banks sleep on said couch?”
“You guys also share clothes,” Connie chimed in, coming up behind Guy.
Charlie said “So what?” at the same time Adam blurted, “No we don’t.” They stared at each other, then at their friends.
“Connie and Julie share clothes all the time,” Charlie argued. “And Connie and Guy. And Portman and Fulton.”
“But none of us are Control Freak Banks,” Guy laughed, “who doesn’t even like sharing sticks.”
Adam’s face went red and he started to argue, but stopped short of a word.
“For the record,” Connie said calmly, “none of us have anything against it.”
Charlie panted, at a loss for words. “You don’t… you don’t care?”
“No more than we care about Guy and Connie being together,” Averman shrugged.
Adam and Charlie scanned the faces of the team. Everyone nodded, agreeing with the sentiment.
“Now that that’s settled,” Adam announced, working hard to keep his voice even, which made it come out numbly, “let’s get back to the game.” He tossed up the puck, and by the time it hit the ground, everyone was playing again.
The Ducks didn’t stop playing until the sun went down and they couldn’t see the puck anymore, but that didn’t discourage them from hanging out. They got ice cream at a shop nearby and sat down around the court while they ate.
“So how’d you do it?” Luis asked, turning to Charlie.
Charlie furrowed his brow. “Do what?”
“Get Banks?” he clarified. “I assume you did some sort of magic to make that guy have feelings.”
Charlie smirked and turned to Adam, who was scowling at Luis. “He actually kissed me first,” Charlie told everyone.
Eyebrows shot up and looked between the couple.
“I don’t believe this,” Guy murmured. “We talkin’ about the same Adam Banks? The one who barely initiates conversations?”
“Shut up,” Charlie rolled his eyes fondly. When he looked at Adam, his eyes were cast down, avoiding meeting the eyes of any of their friends. He reached over and wrapped his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder in an invisible display of affection. “Orion always says make him make the first move,” he laughed.
“I don’t think this is what he had in mind,” Dwayne said matter-of-factly.
“I repeat,” Luis said loudly, “how did this happen? More detail, please.”
Averman quickly added, “Not too much detail.”
“Remember the year-end party you got us all into?”
Jaws dropped.
“That time Adam got so drunk you had to carry him home?” Julie asked.
“The only time I got drunk,” Adam defended. “And, once I kidnapped Charlie into talking to me again—”
“Charlie!” Guy scolded, half-laughing. “You ignored him?”
“I was confused!” Charlie groaned dramatically, then leaned back and flopped onto the ground. Adam patted his chest a couple times, then pushed him back upright.
“Can you guys just promise that you’re not gonna go all in on PDA?” Russ asked, looking pointedly at Guy and Connie.
Connie shoved him by the shoulder. “That was one time,” she grunted. “And it doesn’t even count if we’re alone before the Ducks come flying in.”
Adam and Charlie looked at each other. “We’re not planning on it,” they agreed.
“That’s what you think,” Connie said. “Then the team keeps showing up everywhere. They’ll be walking in on you, even in your dreams.”
The couple was completely wiped by the time Gordon dropped them off back at Charlie’s apartment. They couldn’t have gone up the stairs if they wanted to. Charlie’s mom and stepdad were both half-asleep on the couch when they got inside.
“Did you boys eat dinner?” Casey yawned. When they said no, she told them to get leftovers, so they stood in the kitchen eating cold spaghetti.
They went to Charlie’s room when they were done and promptly collapsed into bed.
“Today was a good day,” Charlie smiled. He rolled onto his back and stretched out.
“Was it?”
Charlie’s head rolled to look at Adam, who met his eyes while trying to burrow into the mattress. “What do you mean? Our friends know about us, and they’re cool with it. That’s great.”
Adam took a deep breath. “Do you think I’m heartless?” he asked hesitantly. “Or that I don’t feel anything?”
“No,” Charlie said softly. He ran a gentle hand through Adam’s hair. “And neither does the rest of the team.”
“Didn’t sound like it.”
“Trust me,” Charlie assured him, “they don’t.”
Adam huffed. “How do you know?”
Charlie scooted closer to the other boy, a dopey grin appearing on his face. “Because they talk to me.” He moved his hand down to Adam’s cheek, cupping his confused face. “You don’t talk to any of them about your feelings, but they can still kind of tell when you’re having a rough time, so they talk to me about it, because if you talk to anyone, it’s me.”
Adam pushed Charlie’s hand away from him. “What do you tell them?” he asked suspiciously.
“Not much,” Charlie said. He put his hand on Adam’s waist, smiling when he let it stay. “I don’t tell them anything you tell me, I just tell them if you’ve told me anything. They worry about you sometimes, you know.”
Adam shook his head.
“Well, they do. They’re your friends, not just your teammates.”
“I know,” Adam mumbled unconvincingly. He sighed. “My dad always told me I was too sensitive, so I think I just stopped saying anything so he’d stop thinking that.”
“You’re not too sensitive,” Charlie whispered, barely an inch from Adam’s face. “You could stand to talk about your feelings a bit more, just so we don’t have to keep pestering you about ‘em.”
Adam gave a small nod. They held eye contact for a second before he surged forward, kissing Charlie with fervor. Charlie smiled and melted into it, grip tightening on Adam’s waist and holding him close. Adam’s hand slid under Charlie’s shirt, leaving goosebumps on his bare skin.
Adam gently pushed Charlie, and he flopped to his back like a rag doll. He climbed on top of him, hovering just long enough for Charlie to grab the back of his head and pull him down. He threaded his fingers through the other boy’s hair, sighing in contentment as Adam’s head moved to his neck. Any marks left would be a problem for another time.
“You got any feelings you wanna share with me right now?” he smirked.
Adam detached himself from the other boy’s skin and pushed himself up a few inches, letting Charlie take in his blown-out pupils and watch his chest heave as he breathed heavily. “Maybe,” he panted. Charlie raised an eyebrow. “You wanna share first?”
Charlie kissed him softly. “Maybe not when I’m seconds from passing out.”
“Me too,” Adam laughed. He pressed a final kiss to Charlie’s lips before rolling off of him and settling under the blankets. He was still for a few moments before he sat up and ripped his shirt off, tossing it into the corner where his backpack was.
“Better?” Charlie poked.
Adam huffed. “Your apartment and your body are a million degrees.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m hot?”
“Extremely,” Adam said flatly, “and it’s unbearable.”
“You could get out from under the blankets?”
“But then I couldn’t do this,” Adam smirked, pressing his body against Charlie’s and kicking a leg out, tracing his foot up Charlie’s shin.
“Jesus!” Charlie flinched, instinctively pulling away before deciding to kick back. “How are you freezing? If you do that again, I’m gonna kick you out to the couch.”
“Uh uh,” Adam tutted. “You heard the team. Adam Banks doesn’t sleep on couches.”
“Then Adam Banks can sleep alone in his own bed.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he challenged.
“Maybe,” Charlie shrugged, “maybe not.”
Adam pulled his feet away, rolled to his back, and let his eyes fall shut. He heard shuffling and felt the mattress dip as his side of the bed was invaded.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” Adam said in a sing-song voice.
Charlie hummed and blindly threw an arm out, which landed splayed across Adam’s chest. “Night.”