Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Edwin wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten to this point. Somehow, in the span of the last hour, give or take, he's found himself dreadfully... aroused. The details were hazy by this point, truth be told. All he knew was his brain and body had been consumed beyond what he’d ever experienced before, and now he was desperate in his attempt to…remedy the situation.

So he’d secluded himself in the games cupboard. It may seem like an odd choice without context, but the circumstances surrounding the games closet had become rather charged over the years. While he and Charles would often utilise it for clandestine conversations away from clients, and Edwin would use it on occasion to seclude himself from the wide open, overstimulating and oftentimes chaotic world, Charles had recently started using it as a retreat of his own. He hadn’t talked about it with Edwin much, but from what he’d implied it was clear to Edwin that this is the place Charles would go to masturbate when needed. Edwin had refused to discuss it at length at the time, but had made it a habit of announcing his presence whenever returning to the office separate from Charles, rather than overhear or see anything scandalous.

As such, it seemed like the natural place for his current dilemma. He’d all but knocked everything from the shelves in his rush to close the door behind him. He was vaguely aware of Charles being out with Crystal for a while longer, but thinking out the logistics of his current actions would require far more thinking process than he could currently manage. Instead, he was scrambling to relieve the nagging pressure at his pelvis.

Problem was, he had never quite figure out how to masturbate to completion, embarrassing as it is to admit. When he was alive it had been commonplace for his peers to masturbate under their covers in the middle of the night, and for anyone else awake to ignore any potential lewdness. Edwin had been a deep sleeper in life (which undoubtedly contributed to his demise, but that was besides the point) and as such had only heard about these actions in passing. As it was a Catholic institution, and he was (is) a repressed homosexual boy, he was desperate to ignore any and all sexual urges himself, so the “natural process” of discovering how one masturbates was simply…lost to him. He never understood the idea of "needing" to masturbate at the time, so he never thought much of it. And, of course, it’s not like there were any learning opportunities these past 7-8 decades, either.

So here he was. Surrounded by items beloved to him and Charles alike, and such associations were doing nothing to discourage his filthy mind and currently unbridled lust. He knew masturbating would help, and he had some idea of pleasuring himself involving his genitalia, but that was just about the end of it.

Edwin’s hands shook as he discarded his blazer, undid his collar, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Ghosts couldn't even feel temperature and yet here he was, overheating in his desperation. His bow tie hung untied around his neck, but he hesitated with what to do with his coat. Edwin’s natural instinct was to place his coat somewhere purposefully, perhaps over a chair or on a hook, and held it before him as if to do so, only to be thrown back into the throes of passion as the fabric brushed up against the tented front of his trousers. If he was more aware of himself he’d be mortified by the desperate noise that escaped him, but at the moment it was the closest he’d ever gotten to relief and he was suddenly in great need of feeling it again.

Grasping his coat in both hands, he all but rutted against it through the several layers of clothing still on his person. He felt as if all his blood had rushed to his cock, with the usually soft tissue rigid with it. At another time he would consider what that even meant considering he was fairly certain he didn’t have blood, but at the moment he was preoccupied with chasing the heavenly tingling sensations growing in intensity. Erratically thrusting and pulling the blazer towards him at different speeds and strengths, Edwin subconsciously attempted to figure out what felt best.

In a moment, he realised that he'd hit a plateau to the pleasure and his quiet breaths turned to frustrated whines. Some spark of inspiration called for him to remove more of his clothing, but as he undid the buttons at the front of his trousers he hissed in oversensitivity. Even getting this little bit closer to his prick was too much, adding his already overwhelmed system in the worst way. He was quick to undo his mistake, re-buttoning his knickerbockers one handed and returning to his previously somewhat successful attempts at self-pleasure.

Edwin felt crazed with it, rutting his clothed prick against his balled-up coat like a man possessed. He was fully out of control with the sounds he was making, whimpering and moaning in turn as he built closer and closer. The bottom edge of his glans was pressed perfectly against one of his buttons, and each thrust was somewhere between moderate pain and absolute pleasure. He was beyond even his earlier lust-riddled mindset, all his half-formed fantasies by the wayside as he was completely overcome in the final moments before falling from the precipice.

It was bliss for a brief moment before the orgasm fully overtook him, an explosion of pleasure causing his entire body to spasm, vision whiting out and ears ringing in the aftermath. He had no idea how long he was in this limbo, senses overwhelmed to the point of being peacefully serene instead. Everything about the general public's preoccupation with masturbation and sex had newfound clarity.

And yet, he had to return to the mortal plane at some point. He perhaps should’ve expected the stickiness within his clothing after his orgasm, but he’d rather hoped that ghosts wouldn’t produce such…material. The sensation of it was its own strange feeling but, truth be told, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He decided to pointedly not look further into that line of thought at the moment and instead slowly started to redress himself. It was still the middle of the day, last he’d checked, and if Charles and Crystal were to be back soon—

Oh. Right. Charles and Crystal. It all came flooding back as his normal thought processes returned to him.

They’d hadn’t even been out on a case, in this instance. Crystal had demanded they have a day off to “act like normal teenagers” and had refused to hear any objections, leading the boys around London to her heart’s content. They’d (she’d) gotten breakfast at a new “instagram-worthy” (whatever that meant) cafe in Islington, then after some deliberation had decided to walk to a nearby park for Crystal to enjoy the rest of her coffee and for Charles to run around and expend some inexplicable energy. Something about the sunshine (that the boys could not feel), the day off (that they could have at anytime they wished but usually refrained as to not grow bored), and “being in the company of his favourite people” (which Edwin absolutely didn’t feel settle pleasantly in his chest) had inspired Charles to become a relative ball of energy, circling them as they walked and passing through several walls and passers-by in the process.

Naturally, when they’d reached the park Charles had taken off in a light jog, only barely restraining himself. Crystal had likened him to a puppy, Edwin had agreed, and Charles had let loose a carefree laugh in return. They gave him full permission to run ahead and then watched him pass through the empty football fields to instead take to the various playground equipment. It was similarly empty due to the time and day of the week, but that was perfect for Charles. He called out some comment that Edwin missed before climbing the structure, hanging by his legs in order to peer back at them upside-down, arms spread wide to show off his athletic capabilities. His jacket all but slid off of him, braces barely holding his undershirt and polo shirt close to his form.

Crystal and Edwin finally caught up and laughed with him, Crystal making her usual banter while Edwin approached to pick up the jacket from the ground. He straightened to find himself far closer to Charles than expected, nearly face to face. Charles, entirely unphased by this, grinned and swayed closer, joyous laughter barely hidden behind his teeth.

Edwin was breathless. The sun perfectly haloed Charles’s form, painting him in a heavenly light. His shirts were doing their damndest to adhere to gravity, allowing for a tantalizing sliver of skin to peek out above the waist of his dark trousers. Edwin did his best to not notice the dark hairs drawing a tantalising line down his best friend's abdomen. In trying to focus on Charles's face instead, Edwin fared little better--the running and climbing and general merriment made him look the most alive Edwin had ever seen him, and he was beautiful.

Crystal cleared her throat behind him. Charles, laughing for whatever reason, took the opportunity to reach out to Edwin, roughing at his hair with one hand and steadying himself by placing the other on the side of Edwin’s jaw/neck. Edwin squawked at the assault to his appearance, but it was more of an automatic response than anything. Rather, his brain had gone nearly blank, Charles’s hand on his face all but burning him in the best way.

Charles’s face scrunched in concern, “Eds? You alright, mate?”

Even the eyebrow scrunch was attractive. How was that fair?

Edwin evidently took too long to respond. Charles pulled away for a moment only to drop down from the climbing frame entirely, crouching in front of Edwin as he landed. Before even righting himself properly, Charles peered up at him through beguiling eyelashes with those handsome dark eyes of his, at a perfect height, almost kneeling, in front of Edwin to—

Edwin felt as if he’d been struck by lightning the way his body lit up, spine electrified and a spreading burning throughout his extremities. If he was frozen in place before, he was all but made of stone now.

Charles stood fully, carefully taking his coat from Edwin and all but throwing it behind him. He gently cupped Edwin's face and stepped closer than Edwin was sure they’d ever been before in an attempt to get Edwin's attention. If he needed to breathe, he’d be unable to do so.

“Edwin? Mate, what’s wrong?” The worried face was back, genuine concern lining Charles’s entire body even as the sun returned to its previous job of turning him into a golden, brilliant masterpiece.

But the audible concern, thankfully, was enough. Edwin shook himself free as best he could (images of Charles below him, those gorgeous eyes, that disappearing trail of dark hair—) and stuttered out some excuse about needing reprieve. He then somehow said enough to keep them from following him, even as his brain was all but mush.

He hastily walked to the line of cars past the entrance of the park. Edwin would have ran to his destination if he thought he could get away with it, and if he wasn’t suddenly extremely aware of what exactly that burning electric feeling was. His physical arousal bobbed and swayed within the confines of his clothing, an uncomfortable feeling that somehow did nothing to tame the arousal itself. In a flash, Edwin had hopped through the nearest car mirror and into the office, pulling himself into the games cupboard in his aforementioned haze.

And here he was still, relieved of the sexual tension but now burning with shame at his actions. What was he thinking, tearing off like that? He was lucky they hadn’t pushed for more information, or even followed his hasty retreat. And what even was that? He'd never felt such a sensation, that all-consuming, engulfing inferno of desire. Surely he had more discipline than this—or was he now going to need to reserve his own private time in the games closet for every smile or caring touch that Charles sent his way? He was worse than a blushing maiden in a cheap novel, fainting at the first sign of attention as her mind ran amok with sensual imaginings. It was bad enough Edwin was in love with him—if Charles found out the truth about any of what just transpired, Edwin would surely die again in sheer mortification.

Edwin took a moment to clear his mind of his spiralling—there would be time later for that. For now, he needed to figure out a better excuse for his earlier actions and then return to his friends in the hopes that would dissuade any further questions. He finished tying his bow tie, put on his coat, and then stepped out of the cupboard.

Chapter Text

“You’re going to run after him, aren’t you.”

Charles met Crystal’s gaze with a sheepish smile, unable to shake the worry flooding his system, “I— well— you agree that was weird, yeah?”

Crystal rolled her eyes, “It’s Edwin. He probably relaxed too much and it gave him hives or something.”

Charles wanted to laugh at the joke, really, but the way Edwin had just run off like that, without him, even urging him to stay behind—

Crystal huffed and grabbed his arm, pulling him along, “At least walk me to the tube before you go after him. Be a gentleman or whatever.”

Angel station was a bit of a walk, putting them back onto high street, but it was still a lovely day and there was none of the usual work/school rush, so it wasn’t much of a hazard. Charles, feeling bad that he was ditching his friend after promising her the day to hang out, apologised periodically the entire walk there, and began to insist he walk her all the way back to her flat rather than abandon her at the tube station.

Crystal quickly put an end to that, literally stopping in her tracks to address him regardless of the crowd around the station, “Charles, I mean this with all the love in the world, you are driving me insane right now. You go check on Edwin, I’ll catch up on homework and sleep, we’ll reconvene tomorrow. Okay? Great.”

She spun on her heels, giving him no time to respond, and with a swipe of her card she was through the gates and amidst the masses. Charles could’ve easily kept up with her, to be sure, but he’d gotten the message (and was more than a little relieved that she’d made the decision for him).

It took him a few minutes to find a good mirror to use, as he didn’t exactly have Edwin’s skill and didn’t want to risk it on a mirror that was too small or able to move while he was gearing up, making all the cars around bad options. He cursed Edwin slightly for making it look so easy, then quickly took it all back. Even if it was only in his head, Charles was practically paranoid at this point that something had gone horribly wrong with Edwin. Best not to jinx it if he could.

When he finally found a bathroom mirror big enough to feel comfortable, his mind had worked up a million worst-case scenarios. Some of them were plausible—Edwin had gotten overstimulated, maybe, or today was some trauma anniversary Charles had forgotten about—while others were truly all over the place—had there been something in the park that got ahold of Edwin? Or what if he’d been hiding something for months, something hellish—

Thankfully, being able to picture your destination was half of the mirror hopping process, and there was nowhere Charles knew better than the office. In a blink of an eye, Charles had found it, rippled the reflective surface before him, and stepped through the mirror.

—Just in time to hear what was, maybe, the loudest moan he’d ever heard, and he’d bunked with freshly teenage boys for years. His ears burned even without blood to burn in them. For a moment he was convinced he’d hopped to the wrong place, even, because why would—?

But no, this was the office. The desk and shelves and everything were all normal and accounted for. He scanned the room, but couldn’t see Edwin or the source of the sound.

Charles took a step, then two, just to give him a better vantage point for the entire office. Nope, still no Edwin. The only place unaccounted for was the cupboard, but he wasn’t completely sure if they hadn’t just closed it when they left. Weird, but weirder things have happened. He tried another look around. It would be weird for Edwin to be hiding behind a shelf or something, but there was also apparently some sort of sex ghoul in the office, so maybe—

The closet door handle creaked, then slowly pushed open. Charles had half a mind to pull out a weapon of some kind, or even pull an extra of off the office wall, but with the chaos that was his mind right now he instead just stood there, frozen in place, awaiting his fate.

Luckily, obviously, it was only Edwin. However, as soon as he saw Charles, he similarly froze.

“Charles.” His tone was weirdly neutral, almost choked off.

Charles almost shook himself like a cartoon character to clear his head, “Edwin.”

“I thought—“ Edwin cleared his throat and straightened his various articles of clothing, a nervous tick, “What happened with Crystal?”

“What happened—“ Charles parroted, incredulous, “Mate. You literally ran away with no warning! What do you mean what happened? I walked her to the tube then raced back here to figure out what was going on!”

Charles knew he’d misstepped when Edwin flinched at his volume. He did his best to get back to a normal speaking voice, “I just— I’m so bloody confused right now I don’t even know what to ask.”

Edwin’s gaze was firmly on the floorboards, hands wringing together, “Right. Yes. Well…”

Charles gave him a moment, then two. But Edwin didn’t seem to have the words, for once in perhaps Charles’s entire existence, if not Edwin’s. Something was wrong.

In a huff, Charles stepped up close to Edwin, determined to figure out what was going on—and his current lead was some sort of possession, or something, something Charles couldn’t tell from the distance. He slung his bag of tricks to the ground beside him, close enough just in case he needed it, before beginning to poke and prod at Edwin. He laid a hand on his forehead as if checking for a fever, pulled at his eyelids to see if Edwin’s pupils would show anything, turned his head this way and that, and even started patting at his shoulders and chest like he’d seen on cop shows.

“…Charles.” Edwin said in a whisper, “What are you doing?”

Charles shook his head, grabbing Edwin’s hands and turning them all around, “Something’s wrong, and I assume it’s something you can’t talk about, since you aren’t talking about it, and we agreed no more secrets, so I’m taking stock.” Charles held up his right hand, fingers curled except for one, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Edwin pushed at Charles’s shoulders, as if trying to be playful, “Stop it, Charles. I’m perfectly fine. Why are you acting so strange?”

Charles was half convinced he was dreaming. Or being pranked. Or cursed. Or somehow in some sci-fi TV show where everyone had gone mad. He dropped his hold on Edwin entirely and started feeling at his own forehand, instead. Maybe he’d gone mad?

Edwin rolled his eyes—proper, actually rolled his eyes—and pulled Charles’s hands away, holding them one in each of his own, “Stop that, you’re being ridiculous. Ghosts can’t even get fevers, why would that be the solution to anything?”

But Charles just shook his head, fully convinced something was seriously wrong, “Edwin, even if you’re just fine, you ran off in such a hurry and I came back to a fucking loud moan, so there has to be something going on—don’t tell me you didn’t hear it. If I’m going mad you’re obligated, as my best mate, to tell me, yeah?”

Edwin had dropped his chin to his chest at the word “moan”, trying his best to pull his hands back to cover his face.

Charles didn’t let him, holding onto his hands tightly, “Edwin I’m being so serious right now mate, I’m so bloody confused.”

At that, Edwin seemed ready to curl up and disappear, which did nothing to soothe Charles’s nerves. He resorted to ducking his head down, trying to meet Edwin’s gaze, only to find Edwin’s eyes squeezed tight. Charles was two seconds from kneeling at his best mate’s feet and begging for some kind of explanation.

But, thankfully, Edwin took mercy on him and raised his head. He took a deep, exaggerated breath, and only then opened his eyes, “Charles. I apologise for disturbing our day of leisure, and I thank you for being concerned for my well being. But I can promise you everything is fine, and it would be for the best for us both if you forgot the— the sound entirely.”

Charles was shaking his head no before Edwin even finished speaking, “No. Nope. No more secrets, Edwin, we said no more secrets.”

“It’s not a secret,” Edwin immediately protested, “It’s just— Charles, it’s a personal matter.”

Charles wasn’t afraid to pull out the sad puppy dog eyes, and immediately did so. He was getting to the bottom of this, right now, rather than have this build up and be a whole thing between them. Crystal would kill them both again.

“No— Charles—“ Edwin kept protesting, immediately looking away, “You can’t just—“

“I can and will if it means we get to the bottom of this.” Charles replied in turn, keeping a firm hold on Edwin’s hands and darting around to keep up with Edwin’s gaze as best he could. Edwin cracked a smile for the briefest second, and Charles barked out a laugh in victory without stopping in the slightest.

Edwin gave up and returned to center, allowing Charles to follow. He swallowed, took a deep breath, all the telltale signs it was going to be something serious, “I promise you it is not something you need to be this worried about, it’s simply embarrassing and I would rather not discuss it, that is all!”

“If it’s not a big deal then why don’t you just tell me!” Charles shot back, keeping his tone as playful as possible to try and keep the panic overtaking his entire being at bay.

Edwin shot him a deadpan look, though the effect was dulled by the embarrassment shining through (Charles hadn’t even recognised it as embarrassment, is the thing, which just shows how rarely Edwin felt embarrassed of all things—). He took another breath, “Charles. If you insist on knowing, might I suggest you put some of the clues together and figure it out yourself?”

Charles once again was shaking his head in an instant, “Nope, not that either. I’ll muck it up and you’ll take it as an out and then it’ll bottle up again. You know what we’re like.”

“I just— You know what? You’d like to know? Fine!” Edwin, finally, snapped, “I found myself incredibly aroused by your various positioning at the park and needed to relieve myself. I underestimated how loud I was being, as I thought I was alone in the office. Happy now?”

Edwin moved to run away, but, even in Charles’s shock, he kept his hands firm. And shock was, perhaps, an understatement. He’d barely had the mind to try and remember his “positioning” (he’d just been joshing around, hadn’t he?) before his brain connected the moan to Edwin and promptly melted out of his ears. He was pretty sure his jaw dropped, too, any and all social customs or whatever lost to the wind. He’d inspired Edwin to sound like that?!?

Edwin had started fidgeting again, heat of the moment confidence lost, “Charles, please—“

“You’re having me on.” Charles finally replied, brain slowly whirring back to life.

Edwin blinked, “What?”

“You’re kidding. Joking around. Whatever you’d call it.”

“Why would I—“

“Because there’s no way. I know you admitted to all that on the stairs and I get it but there’s no way that my—what, hanging around on a climbing frame? Turned you on so bad that you had to—“

“Yes, I get it. I’m some sort of perverted freak for finding my best friend sexually attractive when you weren’t intending to be. I’m sorry, I will do my best to be better, can we move on— will you stop shaking your head at me—“

“Nope, not when you’re being daft. I’m not calling you some sort of freak, mate, whatever you like you like, I just— me? I made you sound like that?”

Edwin’s eyes darted away again, “Technically I ‘made’ myself sound like that, if you want to be specific—“

Without thinking, Charles’s eyes wandered downwards, practically glued to Edwin’s clothed crotch. There was nothing amiss, of course, since apparently Edwin had taken care of it—

“Charles, I will forgive you staring at me in such a way if you will just put this all behind us, please?”

Charles again shook himself out of his stupor, meeting Edwin’s gaze once again, though now an entirely different kind of buzz had taken over his mind. Gone was confusion, now was—

“Sorry mate, I just—, I—“ Charles huffed, forcing words to work properly in his throat, “What if I don’t want to?” he put forth before he could think any of this through.

Edwin furrowed his eyebrows, “… what?”

“Put all of this behind us. We can, sure, but,” Charles stepped up closer, flicking his eyes downwards and trying to make Edwin do the same. Once Edwin did—once he understood that Charles was reacting, tightening his trousers at the mere thought of all of this, he continued, “But I’d really rather we didn’t.”

Edwin’s throat bobbed. Charles tracked it with his eyes, barely stopping himself from licking his lips, “Again, entirely up to you—“

“Yes. No, I mean—“ Edwin squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then looked up towards the ceiling, “I can’t do this staring at your cock, bloody hell.”

Charles laughed, darker than he normally would, and he could see Edwin have to take another calming breath.

“Charles. Your friendship means the world to me, and you know my feelings for you. I have no desire to make anything awkward between us, and I am unsure if I can engage in— anything, without being wholly too emotional about it.”

Charles, for all he was ready to jump his best friend’s bones, took a second to breathe as well, softening his tone and stepping away ever so slightly, “I mean it when I say we don’t have to. It’s a little mental for me to spring this on you, even.” Kicking himself slightly, he finally dropped Edwin’s hands, and cleared his throat to try and sound normal again, “Tell you what. You find a good book to get lost in, I go take care of this, then we have a proper emotions talk about everything, yeah? It’s not— I’ve been meaning to talk to you, anyway, and it’s not anything bad— I’m mucking this up, aren’t I, fuck—“

Edwin used his freed hands to cover his face, taking a breath so deep it moved his entire frame, and spoke without removing them, “Charles do you honestly expect me to just sit here while you go and masturbate in the cupboard?”

Charles cringed, “Well, when you put it like that—“

Edwin, in a rush, dropped his hands, now taking Charles’s in a tight grip, before pulling him along behind him.

“Wait, what—“

Edwin waited until they were in the cupboard, door closed behind them, to respond, “Charles. If you can promise me two things, I am happy to kneel before you, right here and now.”

Charles swore his ears started ringing with how fast his blood (??) rushed downwards, “W-what things?”

Edwin, the bastard that he was, smirked for a moment before resuming his serious face, “One, that no matter what happens we will always be best friends, and two, that we will properly discuss our emotions afterwards, and no matter how that discussion goes, we will not let it be awkward for very long.”

Charles did his best to properly process the terms, he really did, but now all he could think of was how Edwin had sounded and how pretty his eyes looked in the single bulb lighting and how his lips—

Edwin literally snapped in his face, “Charles!”

Charles was nodding frantically, brain finally caught up with the present, “Yeah, mate, promise. We’ll be aces, always. Not going to leave for anything. Nothing awkward, either.”

Edwin, nerves cracking through his usually stoic exterior, nodded, and suddenly began to look around at the ground beneath them, obviously trying to figure out the logistics of corporeality and kneeling in the small space.

“Wait.” Charles called out, Edwin’s eyes immediately snapping to him, “Can we do one thing first?” Edwin nodded, but Charles carried on, “I have a pretty good idea that I’m halfway in love with you already, and I’d really rather we not do any of this before our first kiss.”

Charles had seen Edwin’s face go through a million micro and macro emotions in their time together, but this was the first time he’d seen Edwin honest to god melt. Like, wouldn’t surprise him one bit if he was about to cry type melt. And, well, Charles couldn’t have that.

Edwin nodded, breathy, “Charles—“

But then Charles leaned in, and the world stood still.

And Charles had kissed a few people in his life and afterwards, right? He’d been around the block. The birds back in his day had never wanted to go further than making out, though neither did either of the few in his afterlife, but he’d snogged, alright. Never with a bloke, sure. But up until this point, he was pretty sure it didn’t make a huge difference. Maybe girls wouldn’t have chapped lips or whatever, but beyond that he’d thought (and he’d thought about it more than he’d admit) that there wasn’t much difference in the end. And maybe there wasn’t, if it was any other bloke.

But this, this was Edwin. The kiss was awful, logistically speaking, wrong angle and some teeth in a very non-sexy way. But none of that accounted for how right it felt.

He’d grabbed Edwin’s face in his hands to pull him in, and used them to adjust them ever so slightly, but even without any of that it was just— Edwin’s face was soft with the barest stubble, and Charles’s hands were just wide enough to perfectly span his cheekbones to his jawline. And then Edwin had grabbed onto Charles’s waist (probably for balance considering the force of the kiss, but still) and Charles had honest to god shivered with how good it felt to have those long fingers at the top of his hips. None of that to mention the kiss itself which was— was fireworks a cliche? Because describing it as having the right pressure or whatever doesn’t come close to how bloody perfect it all felt—

They broke apart for a minute, resting their foreheads against one another, each scanning the other’s face for any sign of discomfort or disgust or even dislike.

Charles was the first to break that, happy with his inspection and desperate to get back to kissing, “Please tell me you’d like to keep going. I don’t even care about the blowjob, I’ll snog you forever if that’s how it feels.”

Edwin’s face shed it’s worry in a few slight movements, smile lighting it in its wake, “And what if I was looking forward to the blow job?”

Charles groaned, throwing his head back, “You’re going to be the death of me,” then was right back into snogging his best mate like he was a man starved.

~~~~~

Edwin wasn’t entirely sure that this counted as properly communicating, all things considered, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when Charles held his face so tenderly while kissing him senseless like this.

All the while Charles’s words kept echoing throughout his mind, making everything that much sweeter. “I’m halfway in love with you already”—- even if that was all Charles could ever admit to, it warmed Edwin’s heart to hear it. It gave him hope, only sparked further by Charles’s passionate kiss and blissed out face when they had pulled away. Perhaps this was just lust, of course, but maybe Edwin could make peace with that. He got to hold the boy he loved like this, kiss him like it would merge their souls into one. There were worse fates than mismatched sentimentality.

The kissing ramped up gradually as they continued: first came Edwin pulling Charles flush against him, then came Charles implementing tongue in a way that was odd at first but quickly became sensual, and now they’d started moving against one another, Charles’s hips bucking upwards against Edwin’s hold while Edwin tried to keep them both upright. Charles then moved his hands downwards, soft pressure against the planes of Edwin’s clothed form. Down then up, eventually starting to work at untying Edwin’s bow tie. Edwin tried to match the pace, he really did, but the feeling of Charles’s bulge against him was slowly driving rational thought from his mind. Not to mention that his knowledge of any of this was tangential at best—the scandalous material he’d seen glimpses of while alive, him trying to find a reliable way out of the lust circle of Hell, the even more scandalous material he’d glimpsed in the last thirty years. He knew kneeling was part of it, and that fellatio obviously involved his mouth on Charles’s cock, but beyond that the mechanics were uncertain; would Charles penetrate his mouth as one would— was it just the tongue— how would teeth factor—

Edwin abandoned his tightening grip on Charles’s hips to tug at the front of him—one hand beginning to pull Charles’s braces off his shoulders, the other fiddling with the button of Charles’s trousers. Charles had to abandon his attempts at Edwin’s collar to shift the braces, and he broke the kiss in the process.

“You sure about all this? Not too fast or anything?” Charles was out of breath in asking, an unfamiliar hoarseness to his voice that went straight to a primal part of Edwin’s brain.

Edwin panted in the crook of Charles’s neck, using both hands to undo the fly of his trousers, “Very, very certain. If you’re amenable.”

“I’m more than ‘amenable’ mate,” Charles said with a chuckle, groaning as Edwin gave a solitary kiss to his neck before pulling away and moving to kneel. This he thought he knew, the kneeling. Putting your face at the right height, submitting to your lover.

Edwin had just barely undone the trouser front as he moved downwards, ultimately deciding to abandon practicalities and allow his legs to phase through the clutter that cramped the space. It took a little concentration to accomplish this, during which time he kept his hands at Charles’s hips but otherwise had to pause the proceedings. The biggest obstacle, in the end, was Charles’s feet–he had no wish to phase through his paramour at a time like this, and phasing through other ghosts was far more difficult than objects anyhow, so Edwin ended up with a wider stance than initially intended, the tip of Charles’s right shoe keeping his knees apart and yet providing no surface to truly rest his weight on. It would work, he supposed. His front was at an odd angle, just past too upright with his legs folded beneath him. If he were alive he was sure this would be painful, but he wasn’t, and it would work. When he finally settled, he turned his face upwards to meet Charles’s gaze.

It was unfair, just how gorgeous Charles Rowland was. The solitary light bulb cast him in a warm glow, front lit and youthful in visage. Edwin took a moment to admire the view. Charles, it seemed, did the same, and reached a hand to cup Edwin’s cheek.

”Fuck you’re—“ Charles trailed off, eyes hungry yet oh so beautiful. He stroked his thumb down Edwin’s face, catching on his lips.

Edwin licked his lips, catching his thumb right back. He couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction as Charles groaned.

“Oh that is not fair,” Charles protested, voice low and gravelly.

Edwin scoffed in response, “Now you know how I feel. At least I have the decency to kneel before you in private.”

Charles’s face screwed in confusion for a moment, then settled slightly, “But you were acting odd before that. What, was my hand—?” Charles resumed the hold he’d had before, palm just below his jawline, fingers spanning across Edwin’s very being. Edwin felt something wound tightly within him relax and yet burn brighter at the contact, inexplicable yet delicious in sensation.

“Oh,” Charles rasped, putting his other hand in a mirrored position draped across Edwin’s nape, “You like that?”

Edwin, feeling a little lightheaded in the best way, nodded as best he could in his position, then reached up to resume his original goal of extracting Charles from his trousers. Thankfully the fastenings of 1980s trousers allowed for easier access than Edwin’s own, and Edwin had already dealt with the hardware. All that was left was actually pulling him out.

It would be foolish to rhapsodise about Charles’s cock, Edwin reminded himself mentally, and yet here he was. He’d been waxing poetic about Charles’s body all day, why stop here?

Needless to say, Edwin had a lot of thoughts pertaining to the cock standing tall before his very eyes. He felt vaguely out of touch with his body, or maybe his surroundings, or maybe both. The very idea that any of his repressed, sordid fantasies were now possible (were now actively occurring) was enough to bewilder him, nevermind the focus being the beautiful boy before him. For Charles had always been beautiful, as long as Edwin had known him, and yet here was skin he’d never seen, an unexplored possibility gone unnoticed (or perhaps ignored) for over thirty years.

None of that even describes the member itself. It suited Charles in every aspect, to Edwin’s inexperienced eyes. It was beautifully flushed, nestled into dark hair, and velvet to the touch. Edwin knew he must look ridiculous in this moment—kneeling, partially phased through various mess at the floor of the cupboard, pressed in close, and practically cross-eyed inspecting his willing target. Thankfully Charles was kind enough (or perhaps this was a point of arousal for him, considering said erect state) to remain silent for a moment longer than perhaps usual and allow Edwin a moment of processing. He probably wouldn’t wait as long as Edwin would need to have the personal or spiritual or some sort of epiphany that nipped at the edge of his subconscious, but that was for the best anyhow. There would be time for that later.

Edwin shifted once again, leaning back enough to address Charles head-on despite his angled form. He moved his hand awkwardly along the shaft. There was something to be said about how ghosts could even become erect, but once again Edwin would save those inquiries for later. For now, he braced himself and gave the slit a tentative lick with the top of his tongue—barely any contact, but enough to say he did it.

Charles groaned above him, a gritted out, “Fuck.”

“I will probably be terrible at this.” Edwin felt himself saying more than anything consciously done. There was a fear of failure wrapped tight around his chest, whispering how this is your one chance and you’re going to muck it all up, you can hardly pleasure yourself let alone—

But Charles snapped back to eye contact, hands hovering around Edwin’s head, “Love, I promise anything you do will have me cumming in a second. Can I touch you while you—? Nothing forceful, just want to put a hand in your hair—“

Edwin whimpered— at the pet name and at the memories of earlier, Charles’s friendly ruffle at the park and his possessive hold in their kissing. He nodded, giving the glans another hesitant lick all the while staring up at Charles.

Another groan, followed by Charles’s right hand carding through the slightly longer hair at the base of Edwin’s crown. The oil Edwin used in life made it difficult to hold onto, it seemed, but Charles tried his very best.

Edwin returned to the situation in hand. He moved another hand around the shaft, uncertain if the friction was something to be enjoyed. Charles’s hips bucked away seemingly involuntarily, a hiss coming from his throat. Edwin dropped his hands entirely, afraid he’d done something wrong.

“Sorry—“

“No, please—“ They spoke at the same time, Charles begging while Edwin apologised. Edwin kept eye contact but didn’t resume, begging with his eyes for help.

Thankfully Charles had learned to read Edwin by now, “It’s like how you did it to yourself, though maybe my grip is different, or maybe some more spit will help? Angle's weird, I guess-”

Edwin felt his insecurity and panic begin to return, horribly aroused by Charles’s towering presence and yet also terrified to screw this up. He took a breath to steady himself, no more secrets bouncing around his skull as if there were no brain matter there at all. He needed to say it. He should tell Charles.

“I must admit something, Charles, I— I do not know how to masturbate. Correctly.” Edwin fidgeted with his hands, slightly bumping into Charles’s knee in the process. There. No more secrets.

Chapter Text

Charles took a second. He didn’t want to scare Edwin, even if his brain was nothing but confusion and horniness at the minute. But genuinely—

“What’d you mean, correctly? How many ways is there to jerk off?” Charles finally said.

Edwin turned his face away, definitely embarrassed again, voice tense, “It is exactly how it sounds, Charles.”

“No— I don’t mean any offense, mate! I just—what the bloody hell were you doing earlier then?” Charles was still reeling, trying to put any of the pieces together. There’s no way that noise earlier wasn’t sexual, but if Edwin wasn’t—

Edwin hesitated again, eyes flickering towards Charles’s flagging—

“Ah bugger this,” Charles muttered, making the executive decision to tuck his dick back in his trousers. They needed to talk first, it seemed. It would be worth it all in the end to see Edwin more comfortable, no matter the embarrassment now.

“I apologize—“

“None of that.” Charles said gently, once again gently holding onto Edwin’s face, “Do you want to come up here, or leave the cupboard, maybe ?”

“No—“ Edwin was quick to snap, nerves evident, “I just—if I cannot talk about it in here, I will be unable to express it at all.”

Charles could see Edwin was a second from shaking apart, and made the executive decision to join him on the ground. There really wasn’t enough room, so they both had a bit of their limbs intercepted by something or another, but they would make do. Charles sat cross-legged, ankles pressed tight to Edwin’s knees. Edwin lowered onto his haunches, seemingly giving in to the circumstances at hand.

Grabbing one of Edwin’s hands, Charles pressed it to his own chest, breathing deeply to encourage Edwin to do the same. Edwin rolled his eyes, naturally, but complied. Charles smiled, “There’s a good lad. Now, if you’re really uncomfortable, we can figure something else out, or not do anything at all. Want you to be comfortable, yeah?”

But Edwin was shaking his head, “I’m serious when I say I was looking forward to the blow-job. It’s simply as I said—I fear I am doing it wrong, and I’d rather not mess it up before it even begins.”

Charles couldn’t help but smile at the formality, “And, as I said, I mean no offense in asking what that means. But, hey, if you want to table this talk for later, we absolutely can.”

“…What happened to no more secrets?” Edwin asked, eyes suspicious.

Charles, without thinking too hard about it (or trying not to, at least) placed a gentle kiss to Edwin’s hand before releasing it, turning Edwin’s face the prettiest pink (how am I only realising this now—), “Not a secret to give you time to think about it, love. Besides, we’ve also gotta talk about emotions and that’s a lot all at once, innit?”

Said pretty pink flush had been downturned for the entirety of Charles's comments but, at their conclusion, had snapped back to upright attention. Edwin seemed to seek Charles’s face for something—-Charles didn’t have a clue what for, but he felt perfectly at ease letting Edwin do whatever logic-ing he needed. Whatever it was Edwin was looking for, anyways, seemed to be thankfully present. Not that Edwin said as much, but Charles figured all was right as rain when Edwin suddenly surged forward to grab Charles’s face and kiss him insistently and thoroughly.

Charles had to throw an arm behind him for balance at the force of it, but he was in absolutely no way complaining. He tilted his face to perfect the angle but beyond that was happy (or thrilled, to be honest) to let Edwin take the lead. Not only because snogging Edwin felt heavenly, but it was also surprisingly satisfying to have the other person take the lead for once. Even with Edwin’s clumsiness, it was…spectacular to feel so wanted. Made his heart warm and everything.

Edwin shuffled forward on his knees which, combined with Charles’s off-balance, prompted Charles to uncross his legs and attempt to straighten one out for stability. If he wasn’t so distracted by the sinful performance of Edwin’s lips, Charles would’ve realised that there was a whole, y’know, Edwin in the way of his leg’s unfurling. But, as it was, Charles didn’t realise his shoe’d glance off Edwin’s trouser front until the pointed tip of his loafer made impact.

Before Charles could pull away and apologise, Edwin instinctively grabbed onto the offending shoe, held it in place, and, for lack of a better word, keened. Nowhere near the volume of earlier, and definitely more towards desperate (if not mournful), but still sexy as fuck. Charles would give next to anything to see Edwin’s face that accompanied said sound, but his partner buried his face in Charles’s polo collar rather than face him.

Charles let silence ring for a second but when it became clear Edwin wasn’t elaborating (or even moving), he cleared his throat, “Are you…alright?”

Edwin let out a decidedly not sexy groan, “Yes, Charles, I am simply attempting not to evaporate from mortification.”

Charles again placed a heavy hand on Edwin’s nape, framing one half while he pressed a light kiss to the other, “None of that, love. I’ll admit I’m plenty confused, but I’d love if you told me if that was a good sound or bad sound—“

“Good. Good sound. Christ this is,” Edwin took a deep breath, then another, seemingly bracing himself even as he kept his face hidden, “This is what I meant. When I said I was masturbating incorrectly.”

Tracing small circles against Edwin’s neck with his thumb, Charles attempted to keep him calm even while Charles took a minute to try and put the pieces together. After another minute, Charles decided testing his theory might be easier than expecting Edwin to express himself (heaven forbid).

Slowly, with as little pressure as he could manage, Charles pushed his foot against Edwin. In an instance, Edwin’s metaphorical strings were cut, letting out another whine as he dropped his face against the junction of Charles’s shoulder and neck. Charles tried it once again, paying close attention to where Edwin held— but on the second test, Edwin gave up any pretence of holding Charles’s loafer still, instead dropping the rest of his weight forward and fisting his hands in Charles’s shirt instead. It was then Charles noticed that Edwin was trembling, breathing heavily into his collar.

Now, Charles knew he was dense every now and again, yeah? Edwin was the brains and all that. And, yeah, Charles’s specialty was usually the brawns, but that didn’t mean Charles was devoid of any other expertise. And his number one expertise, after over thirty years of close study, was Edwin. So while he was a little slow on the uptake here (call it new territory), he was starting to get the picture.

That didn’t stop him from pressing forward a third time, however. In fact, it sort of encouraged it, really.

“Charles—“ Edwin rasped, which Charles couldn't help but feel was the sexiest noise he’d made so far. Even better, Edwin involuntarily bucked his hips forward, groaning at the contact.

“Look at you,” Charles meant to sound sexy with this, really he did, but it came out more besotted than anything, “‘S this what you meant?

Edwin nodded, spectral breath ghosting over Charles’s neck, “I— I feel like a dog in heat, rutting against whatever’s before me. And that can’t be right—“

Meanwhile, Charles watched Edwin rub off on him with nothing short of dumbstruck awe. That flagging from earlier? Not an issue anymore. Fucking hell.

It wasn’t a sob, per se, but it was a near thing when Charles pressed his loafer towards Edwin a fourth time. Edwin seemed ready to shake apart against Charles, and Charles could feel himself getting harder over it. Heat settled in the pit of his stomach as he latched onto Edwin— one hand at his nape, one hand gripping Edwin’s waist, one loafer burning with the phantom heat of Edwin’s arousal and the other curled beneath them both. This was easily the most erotic moment of Charles’s life and somehow they were both entirely clothed for it.

“Please, Charles,” Edwin whined against his neck. Neither boy was quite sure what Edwin was begging for, really, but it didn’t matter much in the end.

“Bloody hell,” Charles swore, “You like getting off like this, Eds?”

Edwin groaned, “It’s wrong, I know—“

“Filthy,” Charles responded, awestruck and besotted and so turned on he could barely think straight, “And fucking sexy. Look at you, d’you like my loafers? Feel good, all those layers rubbing against your cock?”

Shuddering, Charles got to hear that intoxicating moan again as Edwin came in his trousers, curled up as much as he could with Charles holding him steady. He wished he could’ve seen Edwin’s face—can’t imagine what the usually so wound-up, put together boy would look like falling apart like this. Edwin panted with phantom breath, chest heaving and all. Charles gave him a moment to recover.

Well, he meant to give Edwin a moment to recover at any rate. Edwin seemed to have other ideas—the moment he felt up to it, apparently, he reeled himself back just enough to capture Charles’s lips in a searing kiss, nearly all tongue and teeth and want.

Charles loved losing himself in a good snog, and this was a great one. Chaotic and filthy and with the person he couldn’t imagine his afterlife without. He barely even noticed Edwin undoing Charles’s trousers once again, but he had mind enough to pull away before Edwin could get very far.

“You sure? We can stop here, or take a break if you need,” Charles offered, grabbing Edwin’s wrist to stop him.

Edwin sagged slightly and whispered, “I want to return the favour at the very least, but I’m still worried I’ll do something wrong.”

Charles gently moved Edwin around so they were face to face, Edwin sat back once again. Reaching up a hand to cup Edwin’s face, Charles smiled, “Like I said mate, I’m pretty sure I’m not lasting that long. But, if it’d help… maybe you could just watch? Or I could show you, I mean.”

The usual green of Edwin’s eyes was nearly entirely blown out. He licked his lips before responding, “I think I’d like that. Very much so.”

“Yeah?” Charles grinned and resumed Edwin’s earlier task of freeing himself. Edwin watched hungrily, twitching ever so slightly in anticipation.

Charles was getting a little lightheaded from the attention, “Right, well. I usually start with something to slick up with. Don’t need to, and it’s noisier, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good.”

At this point Charles was becoming addicted to Edwin’s hungry gaze. He’d always loved attention from Edwin, really, but this was on a whole other level. To keep the energy going, Charles was careful in his movements. He lifted his hand towards his mouth and made a show of spitting into his palm.

Edwin’s throat bobbed. Charles rubbed his palm ever so slowly across the head of his cock, thumbing at just the right places before moving to stroke himself. It was a little drier than he would like, but that was probably all the spit swapping they’d been doing’s fault. That and how hot under the collar Charles was currently— he was seriously wondering if taking his shirt off would break whatever spell he and Edwin were under. Probably not, but it seemed like too great a risk.

Seeing Edwin’s enraptured state gave Charles an idea, “Actually, Eds, would you mind ?” He held his hand out to Edwin, palm upwards. Exactly how he’d had it before he spit in it himself.

Edwin peered up through half-lowered lashes, looking momentarily uncertain before seemingly piecing it together. Without a word, he screwed his face up slightly then spit into Charles’s palm, face flushed and furrowed in flustered concentration. In the brief second it connected Edwin’s mouth to Charles’s palm, the string of spit almost glittered under the single bulb lighting. It was somehow ridiculous, sexy, and romantic at the same time, not that Charles really knew what to do with that thought.

It felt a lot more normal to groan at the way Edwin’s spit felt in his palm and along his cock, easing the way in all its filthy glory. And Edwin was obviously impacted as well, and wasn’t that just the cherry on top? The attention was intoxicating.

Charles sped up. He curled in on himself without thinking, crowding closer to Edwin in the process. His exhales sounded a little closer to moans than he would like to admit, but Charles was too far gone to really deal with that right now.

Edwin responded to the new proximity by shifting even closer. He bracketed Charles’s newly outstretched legs, hands fiddling with his own and Charles’s clothing in turn. Despite this showing of nerves, his face never wavered in its sacrilegious devotion.

Charles preened under the attention, and found himself talking even as his breath came shorter and shorter, “Fuck me, Edwin. You like what you see? I’m so horny for you I can hardly think.”

Edwin was so close Charles could hear him swallow before replying in a surprisingly husky voice, “You make quite the spectacle, Charles. You’re ravishing.”

Charles’s hand sped up subconsciously, “Yeah? Put on a show yourself, mate. Need to see better next time. Want to see how gorgeous you are when you cum for me.”

Groaning, “Charles. It’s your turn, not mine. Do I get the privilege of seeing you come apart?” Edwin grounded himself by gripping Charles’s hastily shoved down trousers, “Do you need more assistance?”

Edwin made sure Charles was watching, keeping steady eye contact as he once again screwed up his face and spat, only now directly on Charles’s flushed cock. Between that and the pre-cum beading at his tip, Charles’s pleasure was spiking closer and closer—

Later, Charles would realise that this was the first time probably ever that he’d made any sound at all when cumming. Not that this is much of a shock considering his lack of partner and/or privacy prior to this, but still. That was his logic behind why the sound he made almost made him jump.

Edwin, on the other hand, seemed ready to drink it all in. At first with that same, hungry stare, then next by literally surging forward and resuming their snogging session, literally drinking in the sounds Charles let loose in his aftershocks. Edwin’s long fingers cupped around Charles’s ears, then neck, then shoulders, pulling the two of them as close as they could manage without Edwin literally sitting on Charles’s lap (would he have climbed on if Charles’s cock wasn’t still out, Charles idly wondered).

After another moment of intense making out, both the boys seemed to finally start to cool down. Charles was first to break when he tucked himself back in, well and truly spent on that front. And then he felt weird, using that hand to caress Edwin, so he just kind of let it fall to the side. This movement seemed to lift the lustful haze over Edwin, whose pausing reflected the sentiment back to Charles. They were panting as if either needed to breathe, forehead to forehead and eyes searching one another. Just in case something was wrong. Or either one of them felt particularly inspired to keep going. Either way, really.

Finally, after who knows how long of this waiting, Edwin began giggling, of all things. Charles squawked in mock offense even as his face threatened to split in two with how happy he felt right this very second.

“Oi! How’s a bloke supposed to take that then? Laughing?” Charles joked, lifting his hands from the floor to gently poke at Edwin.

Edwin had to calm himself a moment before responding, “I can assure you I mean no offense. I just— well, we’ve done this slightly out of order my dear boy.”

And really, what was Charles supposed to do? Not haul him onto his lap and pepper him with silly kisses? He was only human. Dead human, sure, but still. You try having a giggling Edwin Payne on your lap and not kissing him senseless.