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Hold me

Hold me like I'm made of glass,

But like I'm still indestructible

Hold me like I'm a child,

But I'm still wise beyond my years

Hold me like you love me

Hold me like you're glad I'm here

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"I don't think I can get over these brownies," I giggle, eyeing the desserts.

"I finished them before you got home. I had to find something to do." Ethan blushes fiercely while I look over the brownies he'd made. They aren't perfect, but as far as Ethan standards go, they look pretty, good even if a couple are falling apart.

On each brownie, Ethan had drawn something in icing. Some even include sprinkles artfully placed to accentuate the drawing. There's one with a crown, one with multi-colored-sprinkled Momo, one with our initials in a 3-D heart, one of my tattoo, one with one of Queen's more simple album covers, one that looks like an attempt at my face, one with a cowboy hat, one with crossed pirate swords, another with a pirate hat, and a penis. Because of course.

"They're not nearly as good as yours, but I wanted you to come home to a nice surprise and whenever I'm having a hard time you make these for me so I wanted to return the favor because I know therapy can be hard."

Giggling, I kiss him. "Thank you, baby. It means a lot."

"Yay." He smiles, still blushing.

"Try not to miss me too much," I tease, kissing him.

Ethan groans. "I can't help itttt. My body has adapted to your presence, I'm literally colder without you, I swear."

Cupping his cheeks, I coo. "You know I'll always come back to you~"

Ethan closes his eyes and nods like a kid that's been comforted. "Yes, I do. My good Charlie."

A bell-like laugh leaves my lips and I kiss his forehead. "Your best Charlie. Your one and only."

"Husbandddd." Ethan purrs.

"Your sexy husband," I purr back, grabbing his shirt.

He leans into me and kisses my throat gently, eyes shining with mischief before whispering, "My daddy."

"Fuck." I push him off. "Don't make me all hot and bothered before I visit home or else Daddy is going to be very upset."

Ethan giggles. "I'm sorry, baby, I'll be good." He grasps my hand and swings it.

"I love when you're good for me," I sing-song, kissing his cheek.

He blushes, unable to meet my eyes. "I know, baby. I love when you're good for me too."

"Ah, but I know you prefer when I'm bad." I wink.

Ethan smirks, gaining confidence back. He's so confident as a top yet so flushed and embarrassed as a bottom. It's endearing.

"I sure do." he kisses my wrist. "Maybe I'll have to come over after your day with James and stay in your room again." He winks.

Biting my lip, I grip the hem of his pants and pull him into me. "Maybe you will."

"I can climb in the window like we're teenagers. My mom's got a ladder. We can play the quiet game, your parents will never be the wiser. Unless you want them to know how weak I get for you." He bites my lip.

"You know how I love games," I whisper lowly. "And I know you love a challenge yourself."

Ethan grins. "Challenge is my middle name, baby."

"And mine is 'Siren,'" I sing out, backing away as I grab a brownie for the road. "Try not to obsess over me too much when I'm gone, baby. Until tonight~"

Ethan whines and collapses on a barstool. "You're right. You are a siren, but I already crashed my boat so I guess since I survived, I'm just yours now." he takes a brownie for himself. "Text me if you need anything."

"Will do, baby. I'll probably be needing something tonight, so don't have me on do not disturb." I wink before leaving the apartment.

♥︎ • ♦︎ • ♣︎ • ♠︎

There's something weird about feeling like a guest in a house that was once considered your home. I feel like that's not stressed enough when you're going to college. You go from a regular to a foreigner. Whenever I want to 'go home,' it's the apartment that I'm referring to rather than the house that my parents built and raised me in from birth. The law of the land is now foreign to me.

Do I knock or can I just go in?

I stare at the red door and bite my lip.

It shouldn't be so hard, Charlie. Just go in.

My hand touches the door handle and I remain still, staring at the doorbell. Maybe I am a doorbell person now.

The door starts to open and I'm pulled along with it before I look up to my dad with a blush.

"H-Hi..."

"Charlie, you can just come in. You still have a room here."

I scratch my head. "It's weird now, I suppose. But I guess I'm the one making it weird."

Brown eyes soften and I'm pulled into an embrace. "I'm glad you came, Char."

Something in me snaps and I cry. "D-Dad..."

He rocks me. "It's okay. I have all the things you like prepared for you. There's sour candy in the living room and home renovation on the T.V."

Closing my eyes, I nod. "Can... can you still hold me?"

"I don't see why not," he expresses gently, leading us to the living room.

Once I take my shoes off, I cuddle into my father. He is a bit taller than Ethan at five-ten, but he isn't as gargantuan as my 'little' brother who is a little over six feet and still growing. Although part of me is sad that I don't have the magical tall gene, I do like the fact that all of the important men in my life are taller than me.

It makes cuddling all the more comfortable.

My eyes fall closed for a second as my father pets me. It should probably be embarrassing that I want this from my dad. Perhaps I have 'daddy issues,' but I don't like the idea that after a boy hits a certain age, he should be denied affection. Being a teddy bear is simply in my nature.

"How have you been?"

I look up at my father, the question feeling a little loaded despite his caring expression.

"Well, I'm off suicide watch."

"That's great, Char. I hope this remains a permanent because I never want to lose you," he tells me, brushing his finger along the bridge of my nose.

Humming, I instantly feel the anxiety start to dissipate as my father cares for me. "Can... Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Ahm, well, you know, Ethan?" I swallow.

He blinks. "Ethan? No, I've never heard of him."

I scoff. "Stop, Dad, I'm anxioussss." I blush. "I just. You know I love him, right?"

My dad nods. "I do. I've never seen you this happy with someone."

"That's the thing. He makes me really happy and I want that... forever." I blush. "Like how you and Mama are... bound. I want that. I want to get married. I want to have kids. Is that weird to want?"

"No, I don't think so. What makes you think that?"

"Nothing, I suppose. It's not like we'd adopt kids right away. I definitely want us both to graduate and I want to start working. But every time I think about things like that, I always picture Ethan with me. And it's scary."

He frowns. "Because you never envisioned having a future."

And I break.

I hold my father tightly, sobbing into his dress shirt as he rubs circles into my back. Images replay in my head, the most notable being of me getting upset when Ethan brought up the future.

I had always planned this. And it's what was so scary. There had always been a plan, a bet on me not existing. And I don't know if that's fully comprehensible for Ethan, but when I met him, I had already planned on attempting. So I was distant. I was stuck up. Anything to prevent people from falling because I don't care what anyone fucking says.

People who attempt suicide aren't selfish.

Never have I been someone who has enjoyed the suffering of others. Never. And seeing Ethan, I could already feel he was emotional, fragile, worth protecting. But unconsciously, I was drawn to him.

I could never not want him.

But miraculously, Ethan fell for me. The me beyond the act. The me who pushed him away. Who was a complete whore. He loved me and he loves me, Charlie.

"Dad... I really want him," I hiccup, trying not to bunch up his shirt despite knowing he wouldn't care if I did. "I wanna build a future with him, but doing so feels so foreign. And sometimes, it's hard to believe that I actually made it, that I'm still alive."

Large hands cup my face and bring me up to look into my father's brown eyes. "You're real and you're here, Charlie. Don't feel bad about looking forward to a future, because your future is bright and you deserve it."

I bite my lip. "Do I?"

"Um, yes." He squishes my cheeks. "You deserve the world. And Ethan is your world, so you can definitely marry him."

Giggling, I cuddle my dad. "I love you."

"I love you too, Char. You're my little pirate."

With red cheeks, I turn away. "I-I'm a big pirate now."

Dad smiles at me. "You are, finally captaining your own ship, going your own way."

"That, I am," I whisper, biting my lip. "It's surreal, being a journalism major. Like, you just went in and made it happen. Why?"

"It's what makes you happy, is it not?"

Blushing, I swallow. "Well, yes, but I thought... you'd be more hard to convince. Was it because I...?"

"No, Char. Although the fact you attempted made me more adamant about getting it done ASAP, that wasn't the sole reason I helped get your major changed and everything sorted out. I wish you had told me before. Why didn't you?"

"All my life, I've been compared to you." I look at him. "I've always been a miniature James King, destined for greatness. And when I was a little kid and you found me looking through your law books or pretending to be a lawyer with my stuffed animals, you always looked so proud. I wanted to continue receiving those looks."

He kisses my forehead. "Those looks were because you found me interesting enough to play pretend and look into instead of thinking I'm boring, Charlie. They weren't because I wanted you to do what I do. If I was that much of an ass about having a male heir to take over, I would've named your James Jr. But I am the one who picked your first name, was I not?"

"Y-Yeah, Charles." I cover my face.

"You know, you can legally change it to Charlie if you want. I won't take offense. It's your name, not mine."

I shake my head frantically. "No, it's not. I wouldn't legally change it. I've always just felt too immature for it. I don't hate my name, but it is nice to know that me always going by Charlie doesn't hurt your feelings, that me not wanting to be a lawyer doesn't hurt your feelings either..."

My father chuckles. "You being yourself has never hurt my feelings."

"But... your parents... They don't approve of me and they... disowned me..." I close my eyes. It's hard to think about since I've been burying it for so long. "Your own parents, you don't even get to see them because of how I am. So I thought the least I could do was try and be more like you."

"I disowned them. I didn't choose for them to be my parents, Char. But I chose to be here with you, to have you with your mother. When I saw your face at the hospital, I knew you'd always come first."

Wiping my eyes, I push away the memories of how everything with them just... stopped. The birthday presents, the Christmas visits, the support, the love.

And I guess I never wanted that to end coming from my father.

He runs his fingers through my hair. "Remember when you came out to me?"

"I do." I cover my face. "I was so scared you'd be disappointed in me and that you'd hate me."

"Ah, Charlie, you know I could never hate you. You'll understand it when you have your kids, but right now, your world is Ethan. But once you have them, your world will expand. All I've ever wanted is for you and Xander to be authentic. And if that means I have gay sons, then I have gay sons. I don't want carbon copies of your mother or me. I just want you."

Pouting, I bury my face in his chest. "The fact that I have the perfect family is unfair."

He kisses my temple. "I often feel like I fail as a father and husband, so that's nice to hear."

I jut my lip out farther. "You're so good. Please don't ever think that. If you weren't good, Mama would divorce you. You know that. Plus, even if you two are busy, you always treat us well when you're around. Never have you come back from long workdays and made us feel like our existence was a nuisance. Honestly, it's always felt like we were your batteries of sorts."

"That's a fair statement. When I'm tired, something about you two has always lifted me up. I guess it's the fact that you're just... you... you're ours. And everything you do feels spectacular. It's like I never lost that excitement I got when you'd say your first word or take your first moves toward me."

Incredulously, I stare at him.

"Charlie."

"Yes?" I whisper.

"I'm glad you're alive."

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