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Charles loves watching Edwin read.
On the surface, it doesn’t seem a very interesting thing to watch, Edwin sitting there staring at a book and flipping pages, muttering to himself occasionally, but after three decades, Charles has learned all of Edwin’s micro expressions that no one else can see, and he could sit there for hours watching the joy, wonder, and surprise dance across Edwin’s face.
Charles likes that this is a part of Edwin that only he knows, even after the expansion of their circle from not a circle at all to five people (though he loves them all).
The other day, Edwin had been sitting by the window, reading, and Charles had been supposedly going through case files but had actually been watching Edwin, and as Edwin’s head tilted slightly towards him as he turned a page, Charles had thought, he’s so pretty like that.
It wasn’t until later that he realized what he’d thought, but after that, he couldn’t stop thinking it.
He knew it before, obviously, but he never really paid that much attention to it, because it didn’t seem that important, but now it seemed he thought it every time Edwin made that little hm sound while engrossed in a book, or every time he saw one of Edwin’s rare little smiles, or, worse yet, every time Edwin gave him one of his fondly exasperated Charles, you’re an idiot looks. And Charles, well, maybe he was an idiot, because he was at a complete loss for what to do with this information.
Right now, Edwin is sitting on the couch in the office, reading a thick volume entitled A Guide to the Intricacies of Fae Etiquette, and Charles is sitting on the desk, not even pretending to not stare at Edwin, though it’s not like he would even notice, deep in his book as he is. He tilts his head, and the lamp light is glinting off his eyes, and Charles thinks it again. He is so, so pretty.
Charles thought of what Edwin said those decades ago, on the day Charles died. That is not how you make decisions, based on whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment. As Charles had said at the time, that was how he lived his life and how he continued to live (die?) his death, but in this particular moment, he wasn’t quite sure what, exactly, he was feeling, or what decisions to make based on it.
Charles can’t quite wrap his head around how Edwin had known he was in love with him. Charles loves Edwin more than anything else in the universe. He loves Edwin more than he thought it was possible to love someone when he was alive. How can Charles know if he’s in love with Edwin when those feelings run so deep that it’s impossible to distinguish between just love and in love?
He thinks about those romance books and movies, where characters say that their heart skipped a beat or thudded in their ears and thinks that perhaps this would be easier if he still had a heart.
Suddenly, Edwin looks up from his book to smile at Charles. He is so pretty. Charles stares at Edwin’s open eyes, his soft smile. He thinks, horribly, that there are very few things he wouldn’t do for Edwin to smile at him like that. He looks like the sun. Charles decides that he cannot deal with this right now. He hops off the desk and heads towards the door that he technically does not need to use.
“I’ve, uh. Gotta go do something. Somewhere. Not here.” Then he rushes out the door before Edwin can comment on his odd behavior, though he can imagine the look Edwin is giving the door right now.
Charles decides that the best course of action would probably be to take a walk to sort through his thoughts. He wanders London for a bit and gets absolutely nowhere with his thoughts and ends up eventually at the apartment that Crystal and Niko are renting. He wasn’t originally intending to ask for their help, but with how clueless he was, it certainly couldn’t hurt, and Niko is a self-proclaimed expert on love, and he could use an expert opinion. He’s fairly sure that they’re both home, but last time he phased through the door without warning and scared the shit out of Crystal, she yelled at him about knocking, so he knocks, and he waits.
A few seconds later the door swings open to reveal a smiling Niko.
“Charles! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh. I actually need your help, Niko.”
“What is it? Is there a case?” Crystal asks from the kitchen table.
“No, not that, this is actually, um, personal?” Charles kind of wants to die. “And, um, it’s about Edwin.”
Niko perks up at that. “Ooh, what about Edwin? Come in, come in.” Niko takes hold of Charles’ wrist and drags him into the apartment, to her bed, where Crystal follows, also interested.
They all sit on Niko’s bed, and Niko is grinning and staring at Charles kind of intensely, and Charles realizes he has no idea what to say. I just realized that my best friend of thirty years who told me he is in love with me is gorgeous and I don’t know what that means and I think I may be in love with him too but how would I even know? “I’ve been, uh, noticing some things about Edwin,” he settles on.
“What kinds of things,” Niko asks, almost song-songy. Charles is sure that if he still had blood he would be blushing.
Charles takes a deep breath that he doesn’t actually need. “Well, the other day, he was reading, and I was watching, and the sun was shining on him, and I started thinking that he was so pretty and I mean, I've watched him read before, and he doesn’t actually look any different so I don’t know why I'm thinking about it now, and I knew he was attractive but I guess I didn’t really ever stop to think about it like that and now I can’t stop thinking about it.” The words rush out of him like floodgates opening once he started.
It didn't seem like it was possible for Niko to grin even wider, but she did. “Charles, are you in love with Edwin?”
“Ugh, that’s the problem, I don’t know!” Charles gets off the bed and starts pacing. “Like, he told me he was in love with me, and I said we have forever to figure things out, but I don’t really know how to do that.”
“Charles,” Niko says seriously, and Charles stops his pacing to look at her. “Do you want to kiss Edwin?” She asks.
Charles opens his mouth to reply, then stops. He realizes that he never actually thought about kissing Edwin, but now that Niko said it—Charles imagines Edwin’s lips on his, his hands in Charles’ hair, Charles’ arm wrapped around Edwin's waist, and oh. Charles thinks, once again, that he would be blushing furiously if he could.
“I- maybe? I think so. Oh my god, I want to kiss Edwin! Oh my god. What does that mean?”
“Charles,” Niko says pointedly.
“What?”
“Oh, for fucks sake,” Crystal throws her arms up.
“What?”
“I know Edwin’s the brains and you’re the brawn, but you cannot be this dense.”
“Okay, okay, so—I'm in love with Edwin? What now?”
“There’s only one thing to do now,” Niko says. “Go get your man!”
“How do I do that?”
“Oh, Charles. He’s already, like, madly in love with you. You just have to tell him.”
“But what if he’s changed his mind, or something?”
“Trust us. He hasn’t.” Crystal says.
“How do you know that?”
“Everyone can tell that you guys are crazy for each other. To be honest, when we first met, I thought you guys were dating already,” Niko says.
“What? You knew I was in love with him? And you didn’t tell me?”
“We didn’t think we had to!”
Charles puts his face in his hands. “Bloody hell. Well, I can’t just tell him, can I? I dunno, that just feels inadequate. He confessed to me while we were running from a demon, escaping hell. I’ve gotta do something you know? Grand gesture and that.”
“I think you should get him flowers. Flowers are very romantic.”
“Flowers! Great idea, Niko. Alright, so I'll just get flowers, and I'll go over there, and I'll say- what’ll I say?”
“Just tell him you love him. Relax, Charles. He already said he’s in love with you. There’s literally a zero percent chance of rejection,” Crystal says.
“Alright, alright. I’ve gotta go. This is- well this is brills actually! I’m in love with my best mate! And he’s in love with me!”
Charles runs out of the apartment through the wall, then a few seconds later sticks his head back in to shout, “thank, guys!” at Niko and Crystal, who wave at him, before he is off again.
~
Edwin is still reading his book when Charles bursts back into the office, sitting on the windowsill now, with his legs crossed and his hand on his face and the sun shining on him like he was its favorite.
Charles wonders how it could have possibly taken him this long to realize that he was in love with him.
“There you are, Charles. Where did you run off to in such a hurry?”
“Sorry about that. I had to go ask Crystal and Niko about something.”
“I see. What about? And did one of them give you those flowers?”
Charles glances down at the bouquet of forget-me-nots (that he definitely didn’t steal). “Ah, no, these are- these are for you, actually.”
“For me? From whom?” Edwin puts down his book and stands up to walk over to Charles.
“From me, Edwin.”
“From you? Well, thank you Charles.” Edwin takes the flowers from him. “They’re quite lovely. Is there some sort of occasion I'm unaware of?”
“Uh, no, I- well, I- I actually, um, well I got them because I realized- Niko made me realize that you- that I- that this whole time, it’s, you, and I, and I've been noticing things ever since- you know, and I just felt like I needed to-”
“Charles, what are you on about?”
Charles pauses his word vomit to take a breath, “what I mean is, Edwin- remember when I said that we had literally forever to figure things out? Well, I've been doing some figuring out lately, and Niko and Crystal helped, and I've come to the conclusion that, I- I- love you. I’m in love with you. And I'm not sure how it took me this long to figure it out, because from the moment I met you, you were my entire world, and Edwin, you’re so amazing, and you’re so beautiful, and of course I love you, how could I not?”
They both stare at each other in silence for a few moments, and then Edwin breathes a quiet, “oh.”
Charles smiles. “Yeah. Oh.”
“Well,” Edwin puts the flowers aside and steps closer to Charles, and Charles, almost unconsciously, leans forward. “I believe that the most reasonable course of action now,” they’re standing so close now, chest to chest, and Charles almost imagines he could feel Edwin’s warmth, if ghosts had body heat, or the ability to feel that sort of thing, “would be for us to kiss.”
“Yes. Kissing. Edwin, I really want to kiss you.” Charles is staring at Edwin’s lips, and when he glances up, he can see that Edwin is staring at his. Charles is about to close the gap between them when Edwin pulls back slightly, hesitating.
“I- sorry, it’s only- I've never, um.”
“Kissed anyone before?” Charles asks, smiling a little.
“Yes. Well, actually, Monty kissed me, once, but it was only for a second and I didn’t reciprocate, so, I, ah. I don’t quite know how-”
“Relax, mate. I haven’t really done very much kissing in my time, either. Just don’t think too hard about it, yeah?”
“Charles. Are you really going to call me mate when we are about to kiss?”
Charles laughs. “You’re right, I guess. I should probably call you,” he places a hand on Edwin’s face, “love?” Edwin takes in a breath at that.
“Ah. Yes. You should definitely- call me that. Yes.”
Charles grins. “Alright, love. Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes,” Edwin breathes, and that is all Charles needs to lean forward and press their lips together.
Edwin is hesitant at first, his lips barely touching Charles’, but as Charles presses forward, Edwin seems to gain confidence and begins kissing back in earnest, almost hungrily—desperately. Edwin’s hand finds its way into Charles’ hair, and Charles’ arm around Edwin’s waist. Kissing Edwin was nothing like kissing Crystal, or that one girl he’d dated briefly a few months before his death. Kissing Edwin was like coming home, like his lips belonged on Edwin’s, like his body was made to press up against Edwin’s. They kiss for what could’ve been an eternity or moments, and when they pull away their foreheads remain pressed together, and Charles does his best to breathe Edwin in.
Edwin laughs breathlessly. “That was- well, I'd imagined it before, but that- Charles, you have no idea, how much I've wanted that. For how long”
“I think I have some idea,” Charles says. “Edwin, I think I must have been in love with you for years. Maybe since the day we met. Did you know that my favorite activity is watching you read? Nothing really changed to make me realize it, except I was watching you and I thought that you looked so pretty like that, with your books; content. And all of a sudden I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Edwin smiles. “Charles Rowland, I had no idea you were such a romantic.”
Charles grins back, “what can I say,” he says, but then he doesn’t need to say anything because Edwin is pulling him in again, and he’s kissing him, softly, sweetly, and Charles would have been content to stay just like that forever.