《Ratbags and Scallywags [bxb]》Chapter 33

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"Aubrey!"

I couldn't even breathe a sigh of relief when Charlie came bounding through the door. Hot sweaty hands grabbed my cheeks and pulled me close to his face, eyes darting around and downward as he seemed to inspect every part of me for injuries. Then after a quick glimpse at my hand, he grabbed it and inspected my grazed knuckles.

"I knew it," he said through breathless huffs of air. His cheeks were red and sweaty, like he'd sprinted all the way here. "Where's that bastard? What'd he do this time? Where is he?"

Hearing sounds from up the stairs, Charlie's eyes narrowed towards my closed bedroom and started to dark towards it before I quickly snatched his arm and held him back. His protective side was so cute, it made me like him all the more. But something was different about him, right now. I couldn't put a finger on it.

"It's fine, I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me," I assured him, assessing any identifiable changes. Hair, skin, clothes... "Something's different."

Charlie's fingers glazed over my knuckles but returned to my face, as if to reinspect it and solidify his certainty that I had not, in fact, been hurt. His face was so close; beautifully dark eyes boring into mine. Still, his fingers were sweaty and making my skin itch.

"Your fingers are sweaty, get off," I said pulling away, using my shoulders to wipe the sweat spots while still glancing at him. Then it struck me. He was basically at eye level now, as if he'd grown a few inches in the last couple of hours since I'd seen him. I flicked my gaze up and down at him, trying to verify this. "You on tip-toes?"

Nope, it was clear he wasn't.

"Don't be dumb," he said, wiping his hands down his sides. "I need a drink; I ran all the way here. Catch me up."

He walked over to the kitchen like he was here every day, ineffectively trying to throw me off whatever he was guilty of. He reached for the glasses at the top of the cupboard far easier than I remembered him doing the last time he stayed, but even as I looked down, he was still wearing ordinary school shoes flat on the ground.

"You did something," I said, watching him fill the glass in the sink.

"Where's Horse-Face? What's he doing?" Charlie asked, swigging back some water. He let out a loud ahh sound and put it back to his mouth, staring at me expectantly.

"You're rigged."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Let's get into poetry if you won't tell me then."

He stuck the glass back into the sink and startled when a loud thud resounded from the couch. We both turned back to find Tessa having jumped over the back of it, standing in front of us while staring at us in astonishment. She looked dubiously at Charlie first, then to me with a look of questioning on her face.

"Poetry?" she asked, like the word tasted unfamiliar on her tongue. "Aubs, you're doing poetry again?"

I shrugged. "Charlie's helping me with end of year assignment."

"Huh..." she looked thoughtful and strolled over to us. "Wow, Charlie must be a god. If you ever wanna marry then wait till I'm old enough, 'kay?"

Charlie chuckled and rubbed her messy bun until it was a bird's nest. "Thanks, but I'm g-"

"-Glad," I interrupted, throwing my arm around Charlie's shoulders and pulling him away. We weirdly felt more or less the exact same height which was absurdly strange. There was no damned way this was possible. "He's glad you think he's so great, Tess. We're gonna start on our schoolwork now."

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He was still an unfiltered clown, even if he had matured forty years or something in the last few weeks. In the past, you could predict everything he said to be completely stupid and embarrassing. Now things were worse, because I couldn't see them coming anymore.

I pulled him over the living room table and raced up to my room to grab my books. Mum and Donny were still in there chatting. I'm glad I didn't end up having to do it. It'd be so long and tedious and I might've even missed Charlie along the way. The thought didn't feel great when I was getting so used to having him around me. He was my newest highlight to every day.

When I came back downstairs with my books and pencil case, I found him curled on the couch beside Tess picking up where I'd left off with my controller. Tess was kicking his ass. She might be thirteen, but she was kickass at racing games of any type since she did nothing but play whenever she's home.

Even I struggled against her, and we played together pretty frequently. And even though I could only see the backs of their heads, it felt so warm to see him being close with my sister. Even if he did rig himself to look taller like an idiot. Realizing I was beginning to gush – way too frequently – I shook my head and set my things down at the table beside his bag.

They could play for a while.

*

It'd been ten minutes since Charlie came to the table and set down to work with me. We were brainstorming ideas when Donny came down the stairs in dad's clothes, fitting a little snug but otherwise fine. All patched up, he looked surprisingly decent.

Maybe he was only so rugged because of his situation at home. Judging by the look on Charlie's face when he saw him, I'd say it was probably accurate.

"Who the hell is that?" Charlie whispered to me as Donny walked past us to the lounge. He sat beside Tess, accepting the controller she handed him without question.

"Donny," I whispered back.

"Horse-Face?" he asked. "Are you for real?"

I blinked. "Um, I think so."

He snickered until Mum came down the stairs in a minor scurry. "Sorry, sorry. Getting the drinks and snacks prepared now."

She brought us over some fruits and a glass of juice each, which we slowly munched on while working. We talked quietly amongst ourselves, enjoying the mood of partially dim lights as the sky darkened outside. The only thing ruining the poetic atmosphere was the sounds of the PS4 playing behind us, as well as Tessa's occasional cheers and clapping.

Also Donny's occasional awkward grunt.

But the most important thing was that I got to do this with Charlie.

"Okay, I've thought of a poem name," Charlie said, scribbling into his book before glancing up at me. "Have you thought of something yet?"

I shook my head. Now that we'd done a lot already, my brain was starting to hurt. And it still bugged me knowing he'd done something to become taller and was trying to play it off like it's nothing. Tom came by at six-thirty just when we were getting ready to eat. Mum cooked enough for them both, but Tom opted to take Donny out somewhere instead.

Step one to bonding now that they'd be living together for a short while, he'd said. It was good Donny was gone, but also good that he was safe from getting murdered by his dad or something. Things turned out pretty okay. After scuffing down cheese pasta and Charlie joking around with Dad at the dinner table, we continued working hard. I wanted to lie down on my bed at this point.

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Tomorrow would be the day we received our Uni Prep cards and would be required to give a few preferences. I glanced up at Charlie right when Mum's words came back to me about becoming a psychologist or therapist. Just the fact that I was even doing poetry right now made me feel like I could do anything at this point; with Charlie at my side.

It made me curious about his own plans and ideas.

"What're you planning to write on your Prep cards tomorrow?" I asked him, fiddling by flicking my pen against my fingers.

He looked up momentarily confused. "Prep cards?" he asked, then seemed to understand then went back to scribbling words down in his book. "Oh Uni prep. Um, I think I got an idea. You?"

I shrugged, too curious to hear his first before divulging my own. "What is it?" I asked.

"What's what?" he asked, glancing up at me from the side.

"That you wanna do when we graduate," I said, gazing at him eagerly. Would he be a police officer? A lawyer? A bank teller? A certified freak, seven days a week?

He looked surprised by my question before his cheeks went to a subtle red. For whatever reason, he chose not to answer my question. It bugged me to no end. Had he not thought of anything yet? Was he embarrassed about a decision he made? Did he not want me to know? Did he get grossed out at the idea that if I knew what universities he selected, I might annoyingly choose them as well?

Did he think I might be annoying?

My head felt claustrophobic, tightening like cords were wrapped around the nape of my neck. I ran a hand through my hair and tried to take a deep breath. It's not like he actually found me annoying, right? I was getting self-conscious over nothing. I snuck a peak at him, seeing him working rigorously through some drafts. He was so focused.

Charlie was an old soul with a clown humor, who loved poetry more than anything. It didn't suit him to find me annoying over something so trivial. I had to stop overthinking things. He paused his scribbling and turned to me, looking like he'd heard my internal monologue.

"I can feel you looking at me," he said in a low murmur.

He swiveled on the seat so his legs touched mine, then reached out and touched my arm softly. He stared at me with fiercely dark, warm eyes. There was a look in them that I wasn't really familiar with, and not sure I could really read. It's like he was telling me something he couldn't say out loud; heated, filled with need.

He leaned forward, looking me straight in the eyes while our foreheads came so close that we almost touched.

"Can I stay the night?" he asked in a low whisper.

Unable to verbalize a coherent response at this rate, I nodded. "Yeah."

Tess was watching a movie in the lounge with Mum and Dad when Charlie and I took ourselves up to my room. It was eight o'clock, so we decided to call it a night and start winding down before bed later. He showered after me, leaving my bathroom with a trail of steam behind him wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers I gave him to wear. He looked like he came out of a movie screen.

"You sure it's fine just to sleep in boxers?" Charlie asked. "You don't feel uncomfortable or anything?"

Anything but, I couldn't help thinking, but shook my head quietly instead. "I told you it gets real hot in here 'cause it's winter."

His eyes roamed to my air conditioner, but I looked away and said nothing. Truth of the matter is, this is exactly what I wanted. To have him wearing as little as possible, as closely as possible to me. Then a thought occurred to me, so I turned to him and watched him fling himself down beside me on the bed.

I almost choked when I saw him laying back with his hands resting behind his head. He was in better shape than I remembered paying particular attention to. Or maybe it was normal and I was fawning over him more than usual. Back to that niggling thought of concern, I asked him, "Is it uncomfortable for you?"

He looked at me in surprise. "No way," he said. "You know already how ragingly gay I am. It'd only be uncomfortable if it was anyone but you."

My heart burst into butterflies, dancing and fluttering into the sky amidst fire and rising with the smoke. All I could see was red. Overwhelmed by this feeling, I flung my leg over his and leaned over to kiss him. He seemed surprised at first, but his freshly cleaned mouth tasted sweet on mine. I loved the taste of peppermint on him. His hand buried into my hair, bringing me even closer to him.

Overwrought by emotions, it felt like I couldn't get close enough even if I tried. I could be buried in him and it still wouldn't be enough to satisfy me. His tongue worked magic against me until I was almost feverish, running my hands down his body as if it'd offer me any sort of solicitude.

It only made me wickedly hungry for him. My throat almost made unsavory sounds so many times, but it was a surprised yelp that made its way out when he pulled me completely on top of him. I felt every part of him beneath me, overly conscious of the heat coming from his body.

It was beautiful.

"I like you," Charlie whispered, pulling away from my mouth and trailing his lips and tongue down my neck to my collarbone. I lifted my head to give him more access, enjoying the feeling of his hands down my back. His lips found mine again, moving softly against mine as he murmured, "I like you so much."

"Me too," I whispered back. More than he even knew. So much that he was literally all I could think about to the point I thought I'd go crazy.

His hands pushed down on my lower back, pressing me harder against him. It hit me with a surprise jolt of pleasure, and I buried my head in his neck to suppress the sounds.

Everything right now was perfect.

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