Chapter Text
Edwin struggles to unlock his front door.
He spent longer than he meant to at Niko’s place and did not enjoy the walk back against the freezing night air. The cold is making his hands shake and the lock on his door has chosen now to be stubborn with him. He hopes it isn’t frozen, it’s cold enough. That would be bad.
“Lock working alright?” Edwin hears from behind him.
He somehow didn’t notice the man huddled on the floor on the other side of the hall until now. Edwin recognizes him—he first saw him back at the start of fall term, helping Crystal carry in boxes when she moved into the apartment the man is sitting in front of now.
Edwin was having trouble with his door then, too. Only back then, he spent a good few minutes pushing and twisting on the handle until his arms were sore and he was on the verge of calling Jenny about it. But the man—Charles, he remembers—didn’t hesitate in asking Edwin if he needed help, not waiting for Edwin to reject the offer, insist that he had it handled, before setting down the heavy looking box and walking over to introduce himself and inspect the problem.
“Yes, ah, thank you, again. It hasn’t given me any more problems up until now.” Edwin pauses. “What are you doing out here? It’s late, not to mention freezing.”
Charles is huddled in a thin windbreaker, hugging his arms through the fabric. He looks positively miserable. He grins shyly, even shivering on the cold floor Charles’s smile is warming.
“You’re gonna laugh, mate. I left my keys inside, locked myself out.”
Edwin doesn’t laugh, in fact he's rather confused. “You live here?” He asks.
Charles huffs a laugh, his breath showing in the air. “Yeah, moved in about half a year ago. Charles, remember?”
“Yes, I remember you. I just didn’t realize you were… living here. With Crystal,” Edwin answers cautiously. He hasn’t paid much attention to the business of his neighbors, because it really isn’t his business what Crystal has going on in her life, unless it relates to Niko. But maybe he should’ve realized that she didn’t live alone. That the very charming boy that he’s seen exiting her place also lives there. The thing is, Crystal is an alpha, like him. and he thinks Niko would have mentioned at some point that her alpha girlfriend was living with an omega.
Edwin turns his focus to the more important matter at hand, frowning as he looks down at a shivering Charles. “You must be freezing. You can’t possibly stay out here all night.”
“Nah, I called Crystal when I first got back here. Said she’ll be done with work in about half an hour, just have to ride it out till then.” Charles shrugs. “Bad luck though, cricket practice went on longer than I expected, didn’t think it’d be this cold when I got back.”
“Still— you can’t — I should offer you some tea. I never properly thanked you for fixing my door, and it’s much warmer in my flat, if you’d be comfortable stepping inside, of course.”
Edwin is slightly terrified of sounding like a wolf luring Little Red Riding Hood into his home as he makes the offer. He has no intention of being anything other than polite, of course. He knows that. But he’s heard enough horror stories about alphas luring omegas into their dens under false pretense that he would understand any reservations on Charles’s part.
Charles, however, doesn’t seem to have any. His smile brightens and he stands up on wobbly legs. “Tea sounds great, actually. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
The air inside Edwin’s flat wraps around him like a blanket. Charles can feel it too, judging from the long sigh he lets out as he steps in. Luckily, it only took a bit of force to get his door open—his lock likely was affected by the cold, but not bad enough that it was a real problem. He should still probably complain to his landlord about it. Charles helped him, forcing the key in and twisting at the same time that he threw his shoulder against the door to force it open. It was an amusing approach thats success likely had little to do with the body slamming. Charles settles on the couch, still shivering slightly, so Edwin pulls out a blanket for him. Charles wraps it around himself gratefully as Edwin turns into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
“I apologize for not realizing you lived here sooner. It’s a wild oversight on my part, considering we’re right across from each other,” Edwin approaches in a casual tone. He’ll be asking Niko later why she failed to tell him about this. He has to assume that Charles and Crystal aren’t together, because Niko surely would have told him if her girlfriend was seeing someone else, and he can’t see any mating bites on Charles, though the scent blocking patches he’s wearing would cover them.
“Don’t sweat it, mate. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile anyway,” Charles says smoothly.
“So you and her aren’t…?” Edwin asks, just in case.
“Mated? Nah, we’re just rooming together.”
“I see.” Edwin turns towards Charles with a mug of tea. He’s relieved, he has to admit. For Niko’s sake. “That is absurdly foolish, then. You could get kicked out.”
Charles takes the mug and laughs. “Cheers. Haven’t gotten in trouble yet. Most people don’t take notice, and I’m pretty comfortable lying to anyone that does.”
Its an old fashioned rule, that unmated alphas and omegas can’t room together, but one that more than a few apartment complexes like to enforce. In part for safety risks during cycles, in part for the sake of upholding traditional values. The latter Edwin can’t say he agrees with, the former slightly understandable for those with no impulse control, meaning most university students.
Edwin hums, “why tell me then? How do you know I won’t go telling Ms. Green about it?”
Charles levels him with an unimpressed look, “will you?”
“No, of course not,” Edwin answers immediately.
“Didn’t think so,” Charles says easily. “I have that sense about people. Plus, Jenny’s cool. More bark than bite, isn’t she? Wouldn’t take her as the type to care about whether Crystal and I are mated or not, long as we pay rent on time.”
Edwin raises a brow, “you can’t possibly be so trusting of people.”
“Yeah? I think it’s served me pretty well so far,” Charles grins and takes a sip of his tea as if to prove his point.
They sit and talk as mugs of earl grey warm them. Charles is majoring in Sports Science—Edwin in Anthropology—and is only just starting university this spring term. He was accepted for fall, but waited in hopes of getting a sports scholarship—which he did—and spent his time until then working and training for cricket, football, really any sport he thought he might have a chance at getting a scholarship for.
Edwin can’t help but be exceedingly charmed by Charles: his jokes, his easy smiles, the fact that not once has he gotten the impression that Charles did not enjoy talking to him. If anything, he thinks Charles is far too enthusiastic about it. He hasn’t felt drawn to someone so easily since meeting Niko. Except, the way that warmth settles low in his stomach, the airy feeling in his limbs that makes him question if he’s floating, it makes this feel slightly different than Niko’s easy friendship. They talk about her, and Crystal, who they have different impressions of.
“Crystal’s great! You’d like her if you two actually got to know each other.”
Edwin scoffs, “please, she’s impressively stuck up, not to mention highly combatative. She looked about ready to rip my head off when Niko first introduced us.” Niko was quite excited to find out that her girlfriend and best friend would be neighbors. Edwin hates to have let her down on the notion that the two of them would become friends.
Charles’s smile only grows. “Funny, she’s said the same about you.”
Edwin rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment.
Charles continues, “plus, wouldn’t even be here without Crystal, would I? She’s the one who convinced me to go to uni, never thought I’d be able to.” Charles’s tone is light and casual, but Edwin can see a heaviness settle in his eyes, just for a moment, a hidden storm. “And I’ve got a place to stay that isn’t a shitty 6-person dorm room, which was probably all I could afford when I first started rooming with her.”
Charles’s expression shifts into something playful before Edwin gets the chance to press for more, feeling like there is definitely more. “You might have a point about her, though. It’s definitely been longer than 30 minutes.”
Edwin checks his watch. He hadn’t even noticed that a whole hour passed. The walls are thin enough that they would hear if Crystal came back by now. Unless he was too distracted listening to Charles.
“How very inconsiderate of her, to leave you waiting,” Edwin says without any bite.
“I’ll give it about ten more minutes before I give up and just try getting in through the window.” Charles mimes a climbing motion.
“Don’t you dare, Charles. You’d get arrested. Or at the very least found out for living with an unmated alpha and kicked out.” Edwin says it more sternly than he meant to. Charles is probably joking.
Charles just laughs, though. “Nah, I’d rather just stay here with you, anyway.”
Edwin’s heart skips a beat. He thinks this may have been a mistake.
Crystal comes back eventually.
Charles comes out to meet her while Edwin stays lingering at the doorway. Charles seemed perfectly comfortable sitting with Edwin at his place while he waited, but he has a feeling Crystal and her protective streak might feel otherwise.
She doesn’t notice him at first, her attention solely on Charles as he steps out. “You are such a fucking idiot. You forgot your keys?” Crystal says, with amusement mixing into her chastising tone.
“I know, I know, you already yelled at me over the phone for it, remember?” Charles holds his hands up defensively. Her face morphs into a soft frown.
“Yeah, fuck, look I’m sorry I left you hanging so long. Work got— and then the bus — God, I’m freezing my ass off, why haven’t you, like, frozen to death by now?”
Charles ignores her question, "he didn't show up again did he?" He asks instead, concern and a hint of anger lacing his voice.
"No, he— no it’s fine," Crystal shakes her head, “really just normal work shit.”
Charles relaxes, nodding his head as he settles down. After a moment he shrugs, “at least I didn’t have to climb through the window again.”
Ah, so he wasn’t joking.
At Crystal’s unamused look he adds, “it’s fine, Edwin helped me out, see? No big deal.”
Crystal turns to Edwin for the first time now. The look in her eyes makes him wish he had shut the door as soon as Charles was out.
“what do you mean, helped you out?” she asks Charles slowly, like she’s trying to ask a serious question to a child who just said something deeply concerning, eyeing Edwin dangerously.
“I invited him for a cup of tea,” Edwin answers for Charles. “You should be grateful. Someone had to make sure Charles wasn’t stuck out here in the cold.”
He raises Crystal with a look. Crystal’s eyes meet his challengingly. He has to look down to properly meet her eyes. He practically towers over her, but she still has a presence about her that makes him want to stand taller. A sharp nail taps against her arm rhythmically. She’s sizing him up, waiting for him to back away. He stands firm, suppressing a low growl. Crystal is the only person who can get him like this. He’s never felt the impulse to compete for dominance, always detesting other alphas who hold meaningless pissing contests over the smallest threats. The day Niko first introduced him to Crystal was the day he learned he might not be as above it as he thought. Still, he won’t growl or hiss like some wild animal, and as long as Edwin doesn’t, Crystal won’t either.
Charles interrupts the stare off with an arm around Edwin’s shoulder. “See, I made a new friend. Everything’s aces.”
Edwin doesn’t know if Charles is aware of what he’s doing, but his easy cheerfulness works wonders to calm them both down to civility, making the tension dissolve instead of snap.
Especially Edwin, who’s bouncing the word friend around in his mind almost as much as he has the word mate , a term Charles likes to to use friendlily, despite its double meaning.
“Charles, we barely know each other,” Edwin says with furrowed brows.
Charles’s smile is unwavering. “Yeah, and I already like you better than most of the arseholes here.” His arm is a warm band around Edwin’s shoulders. He doesn’t know the last time another person touched him so easily.
“Oh, great,” Crystal pipes up. “So we’re just making friends with any alpha that lures you into their home? Are you fucking insane Charles?!”
Charles pulls away from Edwin and moves towards Crystal placatingly. “Alright, I get it, you’re worried, right? Edwin’s brills, you know that. He’s friends with Niko, isn’t he, so I know you trust him.”
Crystal deflates, it seems Charles shares whatever strange power Niko has at calming her.
“Just, lets go inside already.” Crystal turns to unlock her door. Charles follows her, turning to Edwin before he leaves. “See you around, mate. Like it or not, I’m making you my friend.”
Charles always manages to look so bold, even when there’s a shy questioning look in his eyes.
“I never said we weren’t,” Edwin responds, though he supposes he kind of implied it, but that was more out of surprise than anything. He didn’t want to give Charles the impression that he didn’t enjoy his company.
Charles grins somehow brighter, “glad to hear it.”
Charles steps inside, leaving Edwin in the doorway, feeling unstable on his feet.
As it turns out, Charles wasn’t wrong. They will be seeing each other around, Edwin finds out at the start of his first class of the new semester.
Edwin hasn’t been able to get Charles out of his head. His place smells of Charles now. Just a hint, but enough that Edwin notices. It’s rather distracting.
Charles’s patches work decently well to mask his scent. He probably wouldn’t notice it as much if not for the fact that his first impression of him—after the observation that he was handsome and nice enough to help a complete stranger fix his door—was the scent of cinnamon and honey.
Sweat-soaked scent patches and an exposing singlet weren’t enough to stop his pheromones from invading Edwin’s senses as Charles leaned into his space—something he seems to do a lot—and worked at the stuck lock of Edwin’s door until it gave from under his deft hands. Edwin escaped into his flat quicker than would be polite, embarrassed and concerned for his unexpected reaction, so he’s glad that last night he was able to help Charles in return.
“Hey, mate,” Charles greets casually as he shuffles into the seat next to Edwin.
Edwin startles slightly where he’s seated, his pen out and ready for the lesson slipping from his fingers onto his lap. It’s ten minutes until the class is meant to start. There’s only a few other people in the classroom, no one else sat near him. Except Charles now, it seems.
“Why are you here?” Edwin responds, his tone sharper than intended.
“Same reason as you, I imagine.” Charles leans back in his chair, elbow settling close to Edwin on the armrest. Despite the difference in study, Edwin supposes it does make sense that Charles is also interested in taking a class in Human Anatomy.
“In any case, looks like we’ve got a class together." Charles smiles cheerfully. The temperature in the room is starting to feel much warmer than it did just a moment ago. Edwin finds himself resisting the urge to loosen his collar because of it. "It appears we do."
Once again, conversation flows between them surprisingly easy while the clock in the corner of the room ticks by. Talking to Charles makes time feel insignificant, as well as everything else around them. It’s just him and Charles and Edwin couldn’t give a damn about things like minutes or clocks or other people. It had been that way last night as well. Edwin tries not to feel a bit insane for it.
“So, I’m kinda new to this whole uni thing. Got any tips?” Charles leans farther into Edwin’s space than necessary, looking at Edwin like his words carry a weight to them. It’s a nice feeling.
“Something to write notes with would be a good start,” Edwin says, pretending that having Charles close enough that he can just faintly feel whenever he exhales isn’t something he is acutely aware of.
“Right,” Charles leans back—to Edwin’s relief and disappointment—and pulls a sketchpad and pen out of his large rucksack. “See, not totally unprepared, am I?”
Edwin rolls his eyes, the hint of a smile betraying him. From the look of it, there are countless things in that bag—an umbrella, a large pencil case, a cricket bat, somehow—yet a well used sketchpad was the best he had to note take with.
“I’m impressed,” Edwin says sarcastically, “and next I’ll hear you actually read the syllabus.”
Charles looks like he’s been knocked off his feet. “The what?”
Edwin breathes an unconvincingly exasperated sigh and holds out an open page of his own notebook. “I wrote it down, here.”
Charles looks it over. “Shit, I actually thought I was pretty prepared.” There’s a frown etched into his brow.
“I wouldn’t fret,” Edwin says lightly. “I guarantee you half the class has yet to review it either, and most of them have been here long enough that they should know better.” If Edwin sounds a bit uptight, he doesn’t care, because Charles’s shoulders slack and his face smooths back into a smirk.
“Lucky I have you, then. You’ll keep me on top of things so I don’t end up like those toffs.”
It’s not for another 20 minutes that the professor arrives and class starts. Neither of them notice until the man starts drawling some opening speech and the background noise of the class peters out.
“sorta feels like the universe wants us to be friends, too. So far all the right people have been late for us to get the chance to hang out,” Charles whispers. “What’d you reckon it was for him? Traffic? Slept through his alarm clock?”
Edwin hums, “I have a feeling he might just not give a damn. You can thank the lack of regard for punctuality these days. I’d guess that this will be a common phenomena in this class,” Edwin says playfully scathing, eyeing the disheveled appearance of their instructor, the way he lazily makes his way to the front of the room, probably hung-over.
Charles snorts loud enough to catch the class’s attention. There are suddenly far too many eyes on them, including the instructor, who frankly has no right to judge. Edwin flushes a bit under the attention. Charles straightens up and presses his lips together in a line, doing his best to hide his obvious amusement. Strangely, Edwin finds himself doing the same.
Charles manages to pull Edwin into getting food with him after class, giving him no option to refuse. Or rather, Charles’s eyes and easy smile and the hand he rested on Edwin’s shoulder as he asked if he was hungry too gave him no option to refuse.
“Mate, I just got this new job— best pizza shop in London. I mean it. And I get fifty off!” Charles bounces enthusiastically as they walk, his energy warming against the bite of the chilly mid-day air. They walk for around fifteen minutes, talking all the while about Charles’s new job, the other classes they’re taking—none of the others they share—Edwin’s collection of mystery novels, the dog Charles took in when he was ten that he hid in his room until his mom found it while Charles was out at school after smelling the mess it made. Anything and everything.
Edwin doesn’t recognize the part of campus they’re walking through. It’s nice. Charles takes them on a mini detour through a small branch off the main library he said he thought Edwin would like, leading out into a pathway canopied by trees whose leaves have only just started to regrow, sunspots stark and plentiful against the ground. Charles walks through the campus as if he’s been there for years, meanwhile Edwin just about knows the routes to his lecture halls, the main library building, his apartment a 10 minute walk off campus, and a café he went to on his one and only ‘date.’
Edwin thinks it’d be nice to see all the other places Charles knows that he himself has yet to see. Maybe he’ll ask Charles one day, if this new friendship—and it feels very strange for Edwin to call something this new a friendship—lasts. The cold walk isn’t that bad at all, and luckily by the time they approach the shop, Edwin does actually feel himself getting hungry.
He pauses when they enter the small pizzeria and he spots a familiar boy behind the counter, sleeves rolled up and hair clipped back as he rolls out a fresh batch of dough.
“Buon giorno!” Monty half-heartedly calls out when he hears the bell of the door, not looking up from the dough. Charles strolls past Edwin into the shop, looking far too happy in his place of work.
“Monty here’s a new hire like me,” Charles says as he leans back against the front counter. “Owner’s the only one that actually speaks Italian, but he likes us to learn a few phrases for the customers,” Charles explains.
Clearly , Edwin thinks, Monty’s accent was terrible.
The place itsself is pretty cozy, smelling warm and doughy with paintings and trinkets decorating the small space around them, music playing quietly in the background.
Monty finally turns his attention to them, a charming smile plastered on his face as he approaches the counter. It quickly falters when he sees Edwin.
“Hi,” Monty squeaks a pitch higher than natural. He clears his throat and chuckles nervously after an uncomfortable pause. “Sorry, I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you here.” His freshly washed hands fiddle with the edge of the counter.
“Hello, Monty,” Edwin says mildly.
They’ve only spoken once since their one and only ‘date’ that ended poorly enough that Edwin was close to giving up on the prospect of romance entirely. Monty apologized profusely and with many tears, when it came out that he was paid by a group of fraternity boys to try to seduce the stuck up, undomineering alpha, unaware that once he successfully got him back to his place, the frat boys had rather unpleasant plans to enact on Edwin.
Edwin forgave him, however, after seeing that Monty was clearly torn up about the situation, and had no clue of any violent plans made behind his back. It’s been a few months since then, and clearly neither of them know where they stand with each other.
”You two know each other?” Monty and Charles say in unison.
Edwin looks between the two of them. “Yes, Charles and I are neighbors, and Monty…” Edwin’s starting to wish he had just gone home, “we met a bit ago. During the fall. But it’s been a while.” Edwin tries to punctuate his sentence with a casual smile. It might have come out as more of a wince.
“Great!” Monty says abruptly, “so did you guys want to order, or…”
They order, Edwin a plain cheese and Charles something that might be more topping than pizza. Charles tries to pay for the both of them, “c’mon, my treat, for last night, and for helping me with class.” Unlike many things when it comes to Charles, Edwin finds this quite easy to refuse.
The food’s pretty good, actually. Maybe not the best in London , but he’s certainly had worse.
Over the next few weeks, it becomes a bit of a routine. They walk to class together, get there ten minutes early, usually the only ones in the room since people have caught on to the fact that their professor has never arrived less than five minutes late to a lecture, talk until class starts, and go out for food after—not always where Charles works. It seems that Charles has done diligent work in finding all the actually good and affordable restaurants around campus, and has made it a mission to bring Edwin to all of them.
Edwin’s also made the habit of visiting Charles during his shifts on his way back from one of his other classes. It isn’t on his way, actually, at all, but Charles doesn’t need to know that. His face lights up when he sees Edwin approach from the window and immediately stops what he’s doing to greet him and offer a slice on the house, which Edwin isn’t sure Charles should be doing. He’s there sometimes just to say hi and decline a free pizza, but sometimes he’ll stay longer with a book that Charles will end up distracting him from. He’s gotten to talk with Monty more as well because of his frequent visits. It was a bit awkward at first, but things have settled between them, and Edwin’s glad that they can have the occasional friendly conversation again.
Edwin has gotten out of his flat more times in less than a month than he had all last semester. Charles invites him pretty much anywhere he goes. At some point, it stops even being a question when Charles knocks on his door and tells him they’re going to this place or that. Edwin finds that he doesn’t mind being dragged along all that much.
They’ve started studying together, too. Charles will show up to his place in the evenings with books, his sketchbook and an old laptop, sitting himself on the floor or couch, or if they’re going over something together, perched on the edge of Edwin’s desk. They get distracted by each other more often than Edwin would like to admit, a five minute break turns into twenty minutes of Charles’s jokes, or rants from either of them, or Charles starting an argument about whether a taco counts as a sandwich. Sometimes, more recently, Edwin will read to him.
It first happened when they were reading a textbook for their Anatomy class, Edwin sat cross-legged on his couch and Charles next to him, leaning over his shoulder to read from the same book. It only made sense, just to get one for the both of them. Charles’s fingers tap on his leg in a rhythm Edwin doesn’t recognize and largely tunes out as white noise by now.
The tapping stops at some point, Edwin notices as he continues reading.
“Mind speaking up a bit, mate?” Charles says, breaking Edwin’s concentrated state. He looks up at Charles questioningly.
“I’m only hearing about every other word right now, is all.”
It takes Edwin a moment to understand, he flushes a bit when he does.
“Oh, how embarrassing. I didn’t realize I was doing it.” It’s an old habit of his that drove his parents mad on the occasions they were in the room with him and he started muttering the words of Agatha Christie aloud to himself.
“I don’t mind. I liked it.” Charles flushes as well for some odd reason, “hearing the words, I mean. It’s nice, helps me focus.”
“Ah, well, in that case I don’t mind at all. It helps me as well, if I’m honest.”
Charles nods and Edwin turns his focus back to the page he was halfway through, reading aloud from the top.
Charles follows along silently. He traces soothing and only slightly distracting patterns on Edwin’s knee. It reminds him of the doodles Charles does in his notebook during class: eyes, spyglasses, and skulls sketched in between notes.
Pretty much anyone that looks at Edwin could guess that he doesn’t exactly fit in with other alphas. Edwin’s always been dominant in his own way, a calm sure confidence in the way he speaks and carries himself. Other alphas don’t tend to appreciate his subtle dominance, seeing his refusal to stake claim on what’s his or have mindless pissing contests as an easy chance to push him down below them.
Charles, like him, also isn’t what you’d think an omega to be like. He’s assertive, charismatic, and sticks up for what’s right. And he might not look like it, but he’s also surprisingly strong. Just as much as Edwin and Crystal feel protective over him, he is their protector as well. Some would call it disrespectful, the way Charles acts, that he should tone himself down, act like a proper omega. Edwin thinks Charles is the coolest person he’s ever met.
It also means that hanging out with Charles can get strange sometimes. It’s not that Edwin forgets that he’s an omega, but he usually isn’t thinking of it. He thinks about his scent maybe a bit too much, and the feel of his skin and easy touch, but that has more to do with it being Charles’s scent and touch than it does anything else. And going out, most people can’t tell either. His rugged attitude, easy confidence, and the fact that Edwin’s never seen him without patches on make it pretty easy to disguise. So overall, when they’re out or alone in their homes or sitting in class, it isn’t something he has to think about.
But then sometimes all it takes is an encounter with the wrong kind of person to have Edwin thinking that maybe it’s something he should think a bit more about—as long as those thoughts remain focused on Charles’s safety, of course.
“So, what are your dreams like?”
Charles asked him the same thing right as their professor arrived, and apparently has been holding onto his question until the minute their lesson ended, not even sparing Edwin a moment to close his notebook.
“Underwhelming, it’s rare for me to even remember them. I’m sure yours are far more interesting.”
It’s true, and Edwin is grateful for it. He used to have nightmares. He still does, on occasion, but not like he used to. It’s been years since the event that his old high school tactfully labeled a prank , and over half a year since the last time he saw the boy that labeled him an easy target. Now, his nights are mostly devoid of the images that haunted him, and he will accept that as the blessing it is.
“So you don’t dream about me, then?” Charles asks, and Edwin feels his stomach twist a bit.
Edwin snorts, despite the way his heartbeat has picked up in pace. “Do you?”
“Sometimes, we spend a lot of time together. Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Charles confesses easily. “But you’re dodging the question, mate.”
In a move to stall, Edwin finally stands from his seat and wordlessly hands Charles his notebook and pen, who puts them in his endless void of a rucksack, but keeps his eyes expectantly on Edwin.
Edwin sighs, “I fear I might have, once or twice, from the ones I do remember.” Edwin tries to say it nonchalantly. It’s a bold faced lie. He doesn’t remember his dreams, eighty percent of the time, but since Charles suddenly became part of Edwin’s everyday, he’s found that other twenty percent to be rather full of him. A few specific instances of which Edwin wouldn’t share the details of if he was held at gunpoint.
“Was I doing anything cool, then? Fighting any dragons or giant snakes or anything?”
Edwin snorts, “need I remind you that my dreams are remarkably uninteresting? I’ve certainly never been placed in a fantasy setting.”
“Ok, rude,” Charles pouts.
“You are plenty cool outside of your theoretical skills in fighting mythological creatures, Charles.”
“What was I doing, then?”
“Just— being you.” Edwin looks away from Charles’s wide grin. “There was one where you were a detective —”
“Well, shit. Look who it is!” A booming voice calls and Charles freezes next to him.
A man in a tacky floral shirt and fedora slides in front of the exit. Edwin has never seen him before today. He walked in ten minutes after the professor and sat in the front row. He glanced back at them far too frequently for comfort. Or more specifically, he looked back at Charles, with a strange sharp look in his eyes and a dangerous smile. Edwin thought it good luck when the lecture passed without Charles noticing and the man got up to leave—which it appears he didn’t end up actually doing.
“What are you doing here, David?” Charles is all the sudden stiff with a tension Edwin hasn’t seen on him before, his jaw tight and posture uncharacteristically straight. Edwin faintly remembers the mention of this David figure , Crystals demonic ex, aka the probable reason she wants to bite the head off any other alpha that comes near her friends. She’s become less hostile towards Edwin, having earned a sense of trust from her. But that still doesn’t mean he’s going to start being all nice to her now, he’s quite comfortable it the not-quite-friendship they have grown into, which still involves plenty of bickering and rude remarks.
“Little birdie told me that Crystal’s bitch got out of heat long enough to try going to my school .”
Every word of David’s taunt reverberates through Edwin’s mind.
Never in Edwin’s life has he raised a fist to another person. He’s not going to start now.
Edwin’s anger is overshadowed by apprehension as Charles steps forward. “I thought I told you to keep her name out of your fucking mouth. And for the record, I don’t belong to her, so if you think stalking me too is gonna do you any good, you can piss off.”
Edwin’s never seen Charles even as close to this angry before. He can’t say he blames him, but it’s still a shock to his senses, leaving him far more frozen in place than he would like to be.
David just laughs, the sound echoing unnervingly off the walls. He finally turns his gaze to Edwin, sizing him up with a disgusted look, something Edwin can’t say he's unused to with other alphas. “Guess you’re right. Did Crystal reject you? That’s pretty fucking pathetic.” Charles doesn’t answer. David takes another step closer, his voice goes low and predatory. “You must be really fucking desperate, stooping for some prissy’s knot.”
Charles lays a hand on him, then. Just a shove, but enough to get Edwin to stop seeing red and instead turn his focus to Charles. He rests a calming hand on Charles’s shoulder, which is tense as a rock.
David’s hands shoot up mock defensively. “Woah! Shit, you just gonna stand there, man? Control your fucking bitch.”
It’s Edwin’s turn to step forward. David’s satisfied grin only grows. He’s relatively small. Smaller than Edwin, at least. If Edwin knew how to throw a punch and they weren’t stood in the doorway of a lecture hall, definitely a camera somewhere, Edwin thinks he might have a shot. Maybe that was David’s goal, get Charles to snap, start something in the middle of a classroom, no doubt lose his scholarship. Edwin won’t let that happen.
He tears his gaze back to Charles. “Lets go, Charles. We have better places to be.”
Charles is silent as he lets Edwin usher him past David with a firm, protective grip on his arm. David is still grinning, still looking at Charles with daggers in his eyes. Edwin will not growl. He will not react whatsoever.
David brushes his hand on Charles’s shoulder. They both jerk away from the touch. Edwin will not bite his hand off. “Tell Crystal I said hi.”
Before Charles gets a chance to react to that, Edwin’s arm wraps fully around his shoulders and he doesn’t slow their brisk speed walk until they are outside the building and the dangerous feeling in his gut subsides.
Charles is still huffing in sharp breaths when they stop. “I could’ve handled that— that prick doesn’t get to talk like that, yeah?”
“And your solution was going to be to pounce on him, which would be perfectly reasonable in a more private location where you are less likely to get kicked out of school.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair. “I can arrange that.”
Edwin sighs and grabs Charles’s hand where it’s tangled in his curls, carefully pulling it down to hold in his own, feeling the fingers loosen. “Or, we can go to that ice cream place Niko started working at, where you can eat as much as is required until you stop planning something that will land you on the news.”
Edwin strokes the back of his hand absentmindedly. Charles closes his eyes and takes a breath, nodding after a moment.
It’s a ten minute walk to the ice cream shop. Charles is silent most of the way there. At least his breathing is steady now. His hand never let go of Edwin’s. In fact, it’s holding his in a firm grip. Edwin was wearing a scarf when they started walking. He gave it to Charles a few minutes ago, in case his remaining stiffness was at least in part due to the cold. Charles eventually let him wrap the scarf around his neck after his initial insistance that he was fine . The walk is fairly serene, with trees lining the brick pathway and the sound of gentle wind that’s a bit more chilly now without the scarf. It’s worth it to see Charles’s shoulders relax and feel the grip on his hand loosen as he nuzzles the bottom of his face into the wool.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Charles says, slightly muffled, though Edwin can feel the fight has left him.
“It would be unwise, but I wouldn’t blame you,” Edwin responds. He can see the shop come up in the distance.
Charles’s expression turns to something mischievous. “Would you help me hide the body?”
Edwin raises his brows at him. “You want me to be your partner in crime?”
“Of course. No one would expect the prim and proper alpha and his charming and helpless omega, would they?”
Edwin scoffs, it’s laughable for anyone to ever consider Charles helpless . “You are going to get yourself arrested one of these days.”
Charles stops in front of him, a hand on his heart, mock hurt. “Was that a no?”
Edwin rolls his eyes, but leans in conspiratorially. “In this incredibly hypothetical instance, of course I would help you.”
Charles’s smile is all teeth.
When they enter the shop and Niko excitedly greets them, it’s easy to let any lasting tension fade into the background, something they can save for the inevitable recount of events they’ll have to give to Crystal.
Edwin stopped feeling hesitant when referring to Charles as his friend a while ago now. It was strange at first, to have someone so immediately earn the title. Niko’s the only other person he would consider his friend, ever since he was 16 and she jumped over his carefully built walls and became a part of his life. Charles seems to have had a similar effect on him, though the way he came into Edwin’s life feels more like a storm, getting swept away by the winds before he even sensed that it was raining.
It doesn’t make much sense to him, why Charles—why either of them—would want to be his friend. Why they bring him along even when he’s sure hes dragging the mood down, and doing so with a smile. Charles smiles at Edwin even when he’s rude, in fact it seems like a sure way to get him to do so.
He was certain that Charles would get tired of him eventually, leave just as quickly and abruptly as he arrived, and maybe he will. But it’s been almost three and a half months of studying with Charles, eating discounted pizza, loitering at Charles’s job far longer than he should, talking in empty classrooms, and being dragged out with Charles and the girls—cause now Edwin is part of a friend group appearently—to places Edwin would have never gone to on his own. And not once has Charles ever given him the impression that he doesn’t want to be around him.
What a horrifying thought. How terrible is it that Edwin, late at night when his thoughts turn to scent and skin and easy smiles, might want more.
Edwin is ashamed to say he thought about Charles after first meeting him, before they became friends. The memory of Charles setting down the heavy box he was carrying into the nextdoor flat to help Edwin figure out why his door was stuck. Finding his tool box and coming to Edwin’s rescue, the way his sweaty body hovered near as he asked Edwin to help by putting pressure on the handle. Back then, before he ever thought he’d see Charles past occasionally passing by in the halls, a hand might’ve found it’s way under his pants as indulgent late night thoughts of the boy took over.
That might still be something that happens, at a more common rate now, as much as Edwin wants to pretend it doesn’t.
But Charles is kind and touchy and calls him mate , which is just a turn of phrase. Platonic, despite it’s double meaning. It’s not like Charles is calling him his mate . It is, in his mind, as he imagines Charles, on him, under him, a Charles whose exposed mating glands are covered in his bite marks. A Charles who would want that.
Recently, Charles has stopped wearing his scent patches when it’s just the two of them, as well as when Niko or Crystal are around. Niko couldn’t smell the difference either way, being a beta, and Crystal doesn’t seem bothered by it. Edwin shouldn’t be either. He isn’t. The first time Charles showed up to his apartment with the skin between his neck and shoulders exposed, Edwin felt his heart swell, thinking of how comfortable he must feel around Edwin to leave that part of himself uncovered. Edwin didn’t mention the change, and tried not to focus on it. It isn’t really noticable unless he’s paying attention to it, so instead he keeps his mind on the book he’s reading or the movie Charles plays on his laptop. Still, whenever Charles foregoes them Edwin’s body gets warm, like the feeling during Christmastime in his youth, when there was turkey in the oven and he could smell it from the room over. The way it filled him with warmth and made his mouth water.
Charles isn’t a turkey in the oven, through, and Edwin hasn’t done a very good job of not thinking about the faint scent that tricks his brain into thinking otherwise.
"Alpha," Edwin says, scrunching his nose up, watching Niko put the small vial of perfume in the corresponding neatly labeled and decorated box on her coffee table. She immediately hands Edwin another one.
"Seriously, I don’t understand why your mother couldn’t bother double checking with a sales clerk before buying random German perfume samples," Edwin grumbles. Niko’s mother decided to bring back a generous souvenir for her during her trip to Berlin. Apparently, a selection of the perfumes she got were pheromone-infused, which of course Niko couldn’t smell and didn’t find out until she wore an omegan-scented perfume for a date with Crystal. Edwin was told of the results of that mishap in far more detail than necessary, and has now been deemed her perfume bloodhound so she can sort the rest out.
Her apartment is now filled with various conflicting scents. It’s starting to make his head hurt. Though, at least this will firmly drown his nose out from the scent of Charles.
Charles, who ran into him yesterday on his way back from cricket practice. Who was sweating through his tank top and sweatpants and had the ends of his patches peeling up, just enough that Edwin could smell the glands stimulated from the workout better than he’s ever been able to smell Charles before—even with them fully off. Edwin’s tremendous self control has grown weaker the more he’s exposed to Charles’s scent. He thought it would be the opposite, that he’d grow less affected the more he got used to it. Evidently that hasn’t been the case, considering how in that moment he felt humiliatingly like a cartoon character floating after a pie.
Meanwhile Charles, oblivious to Edwin’s plight, decided it was a good time to strike up a conversation about something Edwin couldn’t recall if he tried.
Edwin stood there in the hallway, trying to keep up with their conversation for five excruciating minutes before he finally found the opportunity to make an excuse and retreat as quickly as he could into his apartment, slamming the door shut and taking himself in hand, bringing himself off embarrassingly quickly with quick strokes and his other hand squeezing his already swelling knot. It was a horrifying experience. He’s never been like this with other omegas. He can control himself perfectly well, thank you. With any other, he wouldn't give a damn about whether or not they’re wearing patches or how well he can smell them. But other omegas aren’t Charles.
"They were a thoughtful gift. The designs on the labels are really cute." Niko responds, holding out a vial with colorful flowers on the label.
"Did she have to buy out the entire store?" Edwin scoffs. He takes the small vial from her, and recoils as soon as he smells it. "Normal, just putrid." Niko takes it from him and sniffs it herself. She makes a non-committal hum, "kinda sweet." She drops it into a purple polka-dotted box and comes to sit beside him on the arm of her couch.
She hugs Edwin from the side and gives him a gentle shake. "You’re being grumpy," Niko pouts, looking down at Edwin with a frown.
Edwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I apologize, your mother is lovely. My mood isn’t about her, or any of this," Edwin gestures to the piles of mini perfumes.
"Oh, I know," Niko says, a smile quickly blooming on her face as she leans in, "it’s about a boy, isn’t it?" she whispers. Edwin stiffens.
Niko gasps. "Oh my god, I was joking, really?!"
"It’s not that absurd," Edwin retorts.
"Is it an omega?" Niko gasps scandalously, "or another alpha!"
Edwin scoffs, "please Niko, you should know better than anyone the kind of alphas that go to this school."
Niko jostles him playfully. "Crystal’s nice. Don’t pretend like you two aren’t friends."
Edwin hums doubtfully. Are they really?
Niko ignores him, "Do i know him?"
"Maybe," Edwin mutters, looking down with a flush creeping up his face. Shit, he can’t lie to Niko.
Niko looks at him for a long second. "No!" she shouts. " Ooh, Crystal is so gonna kill you ," she singsongs far too cheerfully.
"You’re jumping to conclusions."
" You wanna mate Charles ," Niko continues to sing.
Edwin should be used to her vulgar way of speaking by now. "We’re friends. My only friend other than you—"
"and Crystal," Niko cuts in,
"—and I’m not going to ruin that by giving into such base instincts," Edwin concludes. That might be a crude and not entirely accurate way of describing his desires, but it’s easier to admit to Niko than any of his other jumbled feelings.
"But it’s making you grumpy," Niko says with concern.
"That is not—" Edwin tries, and Niko gives him a look.
Edwin shifts himself to face Niko and take her hand in his. "I just want to continue to be Charles’s friend, alright?” He gives a strained smile, “he deserves better than a friend who can’t control himself around him because he smells nice.”
Niko raises her eyebrows, smiling like she does when she gets to certain parts of her manga.
"Stop," Edwin says, realizing he said too much.
"What does he smell like?" Niko asks.
Edwin shuts his eyes from her devious grin and leans back into the couch cushion. "He smells amazing," Edwin admits, "warm and sweet and spicy. Like, cinnamon and honey, I suppose."
Niko picks up a perfume vial. “Like this?"
Edwin can smell it from here, a wrong mix of a sickeningly sweet aroma. "God no. Just, warm and nice."
"Mhmm," Niko hums with a delighted giggle.
"And that doesn’t have to stop us from being friends," Edwin says, trying to undo some of the damage.
"If you could, would you want to? Mate with him?" Niko says after a moment of silence.
Edwin sinks further into the couch, slouching into it uncharacteristically. "I’ve never done any of this before, Niko. I’d have no clue what I'm doing."
Niko sighs like she’s the one troubled by Edwin’s nonexistent love life. "But wouldn't it be nice not to spend your ruts alone for once?"
"I regret telling you about my ruts," Edwin says bluntly. He doesn’t, but he wishes she didn’t bring them up so much.
"I don’t. It’s sad,” Niko says with a pitying frown. “Plus, I bet you don’t regret that I introduced you to a certain slick dealer ." Edwin flushes but doesn’t respond.
He looks back at Niko, "don’t tell Crystal, or Charles. Or plan any meet cutes, please. If Charles for some odd reason feels the same way, he'll come to me on his own."
Niko sighs, "yeah, okay, I’ll try." Edwin stares at her, trying to convey sternness. "Sometimes Crystal just knows things, okay? She has like, weird powers like that," Niko adds. Edwin hates to agree, but even if Niko definitely tells Crystal more than she should, it’s not her fault if either of them figure out his increasingly obvious feelings on their own.
"And you,” Niko points a manicured finger at him, “have to promise not to be all doom and gloomy and accept that you are a catch, and Charles would be silly not to be so into you!"
"I’d hardly call my self a catch," Edwin snorts.
"Monty would disagree," Niko says pointedly.
"Monty tried to romance for money."
"Or Simon," Niko adds.
"Who used his feelings as an excuse to bully me."
"Or Thomas."
"I don’t want to talk about Thomas."
Niko keeps looking at him, her eyes wide and convincing. "Fine, deal, there’s a possibility that Charles could like me back. Happy?"
Niko grins, "it’s a start."
Niko does thankfully put some effort into not revealing Edwin's feelings. She’s been good at keeping any comments Edwin can see she clearly wants to make to herself—or to Edwin and probably Crystal when they’re alone. She’ll occasionally give him a knowing look, something to remind him that he's being about as subtle as if he had a big neon sign saying I want to mate with Charles Rowland over his head, but luckily while Niko clearly sees it now, Charles doesn’t.
He suspects Crystal might know something as well, based on some of her own looks and subtle comments, but she hasn’t said anything outright, which is unlike her. Perhaps she also sees the value in keeping Charles in the dark about Edwin’s feelings, or she sees the looks he shoots her that say please for the love of god don’t say anything , and takes pity on him. In either case, he’s grateful to her and the odd sort of friendliness they’ve developed that means she won’t call him out if she catches him looking at Charles a bit too longingly.
Charles and Edwin are sat facing each other on the woolen rug of Charles and Crystal’s flat. Niko is on the couch annotating her copy of Sense and Sensibility for her literature class, an array of colorful highlighters, gel pens, and animal themed tabs splayed out beside her. Crystal is across the room, painting a large canvas laid out on the floor, her sleeves rolled up and marked with paint, her headphones on.
“The distal phalanges?” Edwin tries.
Charles flips the flashcard he’s holding over. “Proximal phalanges,” he reads out faux sympathetically.
“What?” Edwin leans closer and tilts the flashcard towards him with furrowed brows. Charles laughs.
Charles pulls back and slips the card to the bottom of the pile. He’s wearing his patches today. “Almost got it, mate, but the point still goes to me.”
“I was unaware that this was a competition,” Edwin says with a haughtily raised brow.
“Been keeping track up here,” Charles taps at his temple, “and so far I’m winning.”
Edwin sighs with an amused smirk, “yes, I have to admit your memorization skills are excellent, Charles.”
Charles smiles. “Nah, just the flashcards, innit? I’ve gotten used to making them since high school.”
“And they’re an excellent strategy,” Edwin insists. Charles beams a little. He stares at Edwin for a long few seconds, like his mind is on pause while he drinks in the words.
“Charles?” Edwin says after a moment, holding his hand out.
“Right, yeah.” Charles hands Edwin the stack of flashcards.
He reads them out, growing more satisfied as Charles rattles off the answers with ease, no doubt keeping track of points. “Well done, Charles. I’d say you’re more prepared for this exam than anybody.”
Charles keens. Edwin found that praise is a good form of encouragement for Charles, this time it seems extra effective. Maybe too much so, as Charles looks like he’s just about astral projected, his eyes hazy, which is an endearing look on him, if not a touch concerning.
“So,” Crystal interrupts loudly. Edwin and Charles turn their heads in unison to look at her. “My birthday, this weekend. You guys up for clubbing?” She looks between the two of them.
“Sounds brills,” Charles says. Crystal raises an eyebrow and looks at him meaningfully. “You sure? We can plan something else if you’re not up for it.”
Charles’s smile is strained, “wouldn’t miss it for anything. I love the club, and it’s your night. Everything will be aces.” Charles looks to Edwin, “as long as Edwin comes that is.” Charles’s smile grows more genuine, a playful glint.
Edwin scoffs, "yes, because stumbling around a room full of sweaty, drunken strangers sounds like a great use of my evening."
Crystal raises a challenging eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What do you do for your birthdays? Do they hang up streamers at your favorite library?"
"At least at a library I’d be able to see and hear properly, unlike your location of choice. I’m surprised you didn’t rent the whole place out, if you like it so much."
Crystal smirks. "Are we talking about rich parents now? Mr. doesn’t have a job but gets his groceries at Waitrose?”
Edwin opens his mouth to fire back but sees Niko mouthing something (he thinks he makes out the words ‘cute’ and ‘bicker’) to Charles as they both laugh.
Charles hasn’t laughed like that very much the past few days.
He spots Edwin looking at him and says, "so, are you going with us?"
Edwin reluctantly mutters his assent.
Niko makes an excited squeal and leans down to kiss him on the side of the forehead. "Edwin’s going to a club! It’s gonna be so fun!"
They continue to study, then put on a movie that it’s Crystal’s turn to pick. Her and Niko cuddle up under a blanket. Edwin sits on the other end of the couch next to Niko. Charles stays on the floor, back pressed to the arm of the couch.
Niko helps Edwin pick his outfit. She herself is wearing a sparkly short purple dress with earrings that look like mini slices of birthday cake. It takes a bit of her rummaging through his closet, but she pulls out a few options that she deemed good enough for a club . He ends up wearing a tight pair of black trousers and a navy blue button down that she insisted he wear with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone to expose the line of his neck down to the top of his sternum. He feels a bit foolishly exposed going out like this, but, well, when in Rome, he supposes.
As Edwin expected, The place is loud, dark, and crowded with people dancing and drinking. Which is to say it isn’t his scene, but he’s surprised to find he’s having an alright time.
He’s glad to see Charles having a good time as well. He’s been off the past few days. A bit twitchy and restless, snappish at times. Distant, in a way. They still hang out often but Charles leaves earlier than he would, even if they’re having a good time, and his touchiness has waned. Luckily, hanging out around the girls has confirmed that it isn’t just Edwin he’s been like this around, though it feels like it’s hitting him the most. And it still means that something is wrong and Charles hasn’t been willing to speak to him about it. He suspects Crystal knows something, so at least Charles likely has someone he’s confided in, even if that person isn’t Edwin.
In any case, it might be good for them all to get out. Much of his time with Charles has been spent with books and flashcards, and while Edwin doesn’t suspect the stress of finals coming so soon is the reason for Charles’s behavior, it most definitely isn’t helping.
Sometime after their second round of drinks, Edwin gets pulled to the dance floor. He promised Crystal that he’d join them for one song ( his birthday gift to her , she said, disregarding the fact that he already agreed to pay for all their drinks). He guesses now is a better time than any to get it over with.
So now he’s dancing with Charles, with Niko and Crystal dancing together somewhere nearby as well.
A generic beat blares from the speakers, colored lights dance around and Charles is in front of him, moving freely, naturally, in his element on the dance floor. Edwin has no idea how to dance, past the occasional ballroom waltz his parents made him learn for important events when he was young, and he told Charles as much. Charles wasn’t bothered, telling him to just feel the music and let go . Edwin has no clue what that means, but he allows himself to sway on his feet, helpless to do much more even if he could dance, for Charles is in front of him, lights reflecting off his skin and hair, his silk red shirt halfway open and swaying with him as he smiles and looks at Edwin and moves as if he was born to move. He is ethereal and Edwin is an idiot swaying on the dance floor.
More than one song has played by now. Charles tried encouraging Edwin to move more, grabbing his hands and swinging him along with him, which kind of worked. The girls left at some point, Edwin only distantly realizes now.
The music fades out a moment, transitioning from one beat to another. A hand touches his shoulder, not Charles’s, which brakes him out of his trance. Edwin turns around and freezes as he sees Thomas in a mesh top and a glittering skirt, grinning menacingly at him.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise!” Thomas shouts over the music that’s started to pick up beat again.
“Thomas,” Edwin says as greeting, his raised voice only barely audible as he refuses to shout back. “I suppose I should’ve expected this.”
“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting you,” Thomas presses a finger to Edwin’s chest, trailing it up dangerously close to his mating gland and caressing the underside of his chin, “here. Come to see me?”
Before Edwin can explain that no, he did not in fact go to a crowded club in hopes he would come across … Edwin isn’t sure what to call him— supplier is what Niko uses, but Edwin would rather not use a word that sounds so incriminating—Charles interrupts, slinging an arm around Edwin. “Who’s this?”
Edwin glances between Charles and Thomas, his eyes falling somewhere in between as he stiltedly says, “just. A friend.”
Thomas snorts in response, “that’s an interesting way of putting it.”
“I suppose it’s not entirely accurate. We met at the start of my fall term, but we barely know each other, really,” Edwin corrects, choosing his words carefully.
“Ouch,” Thomas says, then grins wider. “Though I suppose you’re right. I never quite got the chance to know you properly. Offer’s still open, by the way.” His smile dims as he glances at Charles, “only for one, if you change your mind and wanna have some fun— even if you’re not… in need at the moment. Though I still don’t get why you’d turn down an on the house deal, much better than the one you insisted on paying for.”
Edwin has to appreciate that Thomas is using some amount of subtlety, though not much. He doesn’t want to look at Charles right now, who’s still clung to his shoulder—probably the most he’s touched him in the past few days. It would be best to take an out before something too incriminating is said.
“I find I’m having plenty of fun with my friends, thank you. In fact, I think we should go find the others, don’t you, Charles?” Edwin forces a smile that he hopes is casual and deigns to look at Charles, whose expression is hard to read. He’s wearing a smile of his own, which might be convincing to someone who doesn’t know him. “Yeah, sounds brills. Lets go.”
Thomas rolls his eyes, suddenly looking incredibly bored. “To each their own, I guess.”
Then, as Charles is already pulling Edwin away from the dance floor and over to the booth Crystal and Niko are drinking at, Thomas yells “call me!”
Meeting Thomas for the first time was an interesting experience, to say the least. Niko met him in one of her classes and the two apparently got along. She came rushing to introduce him to Edwin when she found out about his business . Edwin’s never met someone like Thomas before. Not only in the sense of his excessively flirtatious and bold personality, but also in the fact that Thomas’s subgender is something of a hybrid, which is to say he has the ability to change it at will, to whatever suits him or his partner, which Edwin didn’t even know was possible and still doesn’t quite understand.
But he remembers all too well the way Thomas leaned into his space, offering him a more direct method of helping him through his ruts, free of charge, not an offer made to other clients, rather than just his slick repackaged in a bottle of lube. The whisper of I can really be anything you like replayed in Edwin’s mind the rest of the week and some after . It was the first time Edwin was really presented the opportunity to be with another man. One who went against everything Edwin was taught he should like. He didn’t take Thomas up on his offer, because he seems like trouble that Edwin would rather not get mixed in with more than he had, but needless to say he discovered a thing or two about himself.
“Right, never taking you to a club again. Who the bloody hell was that?” Charles says as they walk through the crowd. He’s let his face morph into an irritated frown now that they’re away from Thomas, a knot forming in his jaw.
Edwin sighs, trying to mask his mortification as he thinks of an explanation. “I… bought something from him one time. He runs a small business of sorts,” is what Edwin comes up with. He immediately wants to smack himself when Charles only scrunches his brows and says, “alright, that’s not cryptic at all. And he was flirting with you why?”
“He’s… taken a liking to me, I suppose. More than his other customers.” With Charles still relentlessly staring at him he adds, “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Thankfully, Charles nods and drops the subject as they make it to the booth Niko and Crystal are sat at, though his hand stays wrapped around him protectively and he can’t quite stifle the unhappy look on his face.
As soon as the girls notice them, Niko shoots up from her seat. “What was Thomas doing with you? You shouldn’t need to buy slick for another—“
Edwin’s heart drops to his stomach as he looks at Niko with frantic eyes. Niko cuts herself off—far too late—and Edwin wants to sink into the booth. Maybe hide under the table.
“Ah,” he hears from Charles the same time as he hears a soft “sorry” from Niko and a wheeze of laughter from Crystal.
Edwin leaves not long after. He tried having a good time as they ordered another round of drinks, despite his lingering mortification. He didn’t want to let what happened earlier dampen his night, and luckily it wasn’t brought up again. But Charles clearly looked put off by the incident, his mood tinged with a sourness even as he tried to smile and joke around.
Eventually everyone moved back to the dance floor, which was decidedly more busy than it had been before, so Edwin decided to leave earlier than the others, having fulfilled Crystal’s birthday wish of drinking and dancing, and getting the impression that his worn down mood wouldn’t do much to help lift Charles’s.
He has a fresh mug of tea and a copy of The Haunting of Hill House, and is ready to settle in for what’s probably his sixth reread, then hopefully also get a touch of sleep at some point. That is until he hears a faint thudding on his door. He thinks he’s mistaken for a moment, until he hears it again louder, followed by Charles’s slurred voice.
“ Edwinn !” he calls from behind the door.
Edwin opens it and Charles nearly slumps against him. Edwin catches him by the arms as he falls against his chest. “ Hi ,” Charles whispers as he looks up at Edwin.
“Charles. What’s happened?” He wasn’t nearly this drunk when Edwin last saw him an hour ago, now he can barely stand on his feet.
Charles gazes up at him with a smirk, still leaning against him like a vice. “ Forgot my keys ,” he mumbles in response. Edwin briefly notices that he can smell Charles, better than he normally can, his scent mixed with alcohol.
Edwin shakes his head. “Where’s Crystal? Is she not with you?”
“ Nah, sorry mate, ‘s just me. Birthday girl wanted to keep partying, didn’t she?”
Edwin blinks at him, before yelling, “She sent you back alone?!”
Charles winces at the noise. Edwin makes himself take a breath.
“How did you get here? You can barely stand. And when does Crystal plan on getting back?”
Charles isn’t paying attention. His eyes are shut, and he’s breathing in long slow breaths from where he’s nuzzled against Edwin’s neck. Against his— “Charles.” Edwin shakes him slightly.
Charles startles awake enough to crack his eyes back open and respond, “took a cab. And dunno, prolly all night, right?”
Edwin takes another breath. Right. He fears he’s going to have to have a word with Crystal when she decides to return. “Alright, come in. You may rest on my couch for the night.”
Charles’s smile is bright and sloppy as Edwin leads him inside and to his couch.
Charles plops down on it ungracefully. Edwin stands in front of him, not sure what to do with himself, or with Charles. He doesn’t have much experience with babysitting a drunk person. “Do you, ah, need anything? Water perhaps?” It might be good for him to hydrate.
“’m a bit cold, actually,” Charles rubs his arms as if to warm himself. It was a bit chilly out, and Charles’s shirt looks thin.
The blanket that usually sits on the arm of his couch, the one he gave to Charles all those nights ago is missing. Edwin pulls off the sweater he changed into and hands it to him, leaving himself in just his undershirt.
Charles lets out a lazy chuckle. “Thanks mate. You always keep me warm.”
Edwin exhales. He hates how adorable Charles is in such an inebriated state.
Charles cozies up in Edwin’s sweater and yawns sleepily, looking content as he buries his face in the soft fabric. it looks like he might be ready to sleep, which would be the easiest option for Edwin, who wasn’t planning on looking after anyone else tonight.
Instead, Charles reaches up to scratch at one of his patches.
Then he starts to pull at it rather aggressively. Edwin quickly grabs his arm to pull it away.
“What are you doing?” He asks worriedly.
“They get itchy,” Charles whines. “Jus wanna pull em off, yeah?” Charles pulls slightly against Edwin’s grip, but quickly loses his fight.
“That is a bad idea, you’ll hurt yourself.”
“You don’t have to wear em, you don’t know whatit’s like,” Charles pouts.
Edwin looks at him for a moment, wondering if he’s breeching into sensitive territory. “You don’t have to wear them either, Charles,” he says gently.
Charles snorts, though it sounds bitter. Edwin sort of wishes Charles were the giggly kind of drunk. “Guess not. Dad used to make me. But — but he can’t anymore can he?”
Edwin frowns. He’s not sure how to respond, or if a sober Charles would want him to hear this. He’s gathered that Charles’s relationship with his father is troubled at best, but Charles has always been cagey about the subject.
Edwin slides his hand up from his hold on Charles’s forearm to hold his hand. Charles continues, “just — guess I just like it better, when people can’tell.”
“I can understand that.”
Edwin doesn’t really care what other people think of him, but there’s a reason he prefers to wear as many layers as he does. Plenty of people can still tell, but it’s nice to keep that part of him under wraps. It can be quite vulnerable to expose that side of himself to others, and it’s nice to just be seen as himself and not get wrapped up in whatever expectations others have for him. He can’t imagine how much worse it is for Charles.
Charles’s fingers flex in his palm, a sign of stifled discomfort. Edwin eyes the patch peeking out from under his sweater. Tentatively, slowly enough that Charles can pull away, Edwin lifts his other hand to lightly scratch over the patch. Charles lets out a heady sigh and instantly leans into the touch.
“Does— does this help? With the itchiness?” Edwin asks.
“Yeah,” Charles breathes. His fingers relax in Edwin’s hand. His whole body goes limp against the couch.
After a minute, Edwin moves to the other side. Charles’s hazy, blissed out eyes are on him. It makes Edwin feel hot, glad he gave Charles his sweater.
A low hum resonates from deep in Charles’s throat, the feeling buzzing against Edwin’s hand, startling him into pulling away like he’d been shocked.
That was a purr.
He made Charles purr.
The sound fades without Edwin’s touch, but he still feels his stomach flip with the knowledge. He’s never heard an omega purr before, outside of movies.
What had gotten into him? He should be in control of his impulses right now, he should always be, but especially when faced with looking after Charles. Instead, he feels a bit like melting, or like molding himself onto Charles, latching onto him and never letting go.
He thinks it may be Charles’s pheromones. It feels unfair to pin this on Charles, and it’s absolutely not his fault, but something is definitely affecting him, and has been since Charles arrived.
Charles’s eyes are still on him, glossy and longing, a faint look of disappointment on his face now that Edwin’s touch has stopped.
“Better?” Edwin croaks. Charles blinks at him, then nods.
Edwin lets go of Charles’s hand and quickly walks to his kitchen to retrieve the mug of tea he left on the counter. This is fine, he can still control himself. It isn’t like he hurt Charles, he never would. Purring is a sign of comfort, as far as Edwin knows. Quite a vulnerable one, however, something an omega typically wouldn’t allow themselves to do around someone other than a mate. Which means it’s not something Edwin should have been allowed to witness. It will likely make Charles uncomfortable to know that he did, come tomorrow. Edwin returns and sits down next to Charles, holding out the mug.
“Here, you should drink this,” Edwin says. “Be careful, though, it’s still a bit hot.”
Charles takes the mug with two hands, luckily his movements are steady enough not to spill it on himself. He doesn’t drink it, though, just rests it on his leg. He hums lazily, “missed you, when you left.”
“Yes, clearly leaving was a mistake on my part.” Edwin sighs, eyeing the mug Charles is idly stroking the rim of, otherwise forgotten about. “But I’m trying to help now. It would be good for you to hydrate.”
“Didn’t miss that guy, though, real knob — ”
Edwin sighs, “I know, Charles. Now—”
“Bloody hated the way he spoke to you — ”
“I wasn’t fond of it either, but—”
Charles grins wide and toothy, “Tell me more about your dreams, ‘bout me.”
“Charles. Drink.”
Edwin’s voice is loud and commanding, an unmistakable kind of tone he’s never used on another person before. Mortification seeps in. He’s tired, and Charles’s pheromones are disorienting him. He lost control of his inhibitions for only a moment. None of those are really excuses, though. It’s still irresponsible, still worth every bit of shame he feels.
He remembers all the times his father used a similar voice with his mother, with him. A signal of dominance, demanding authority and obedience. Edwin isn’t like that. He isn't like every alpha that he spent his life being pushed down by. He’ll take who he is, all his disappointing quirks that got him bullied throughout his life, over being like that.
Charles snaps up to attention, eyes widening. His pupils are blown and Edwin can’t tell if it’s from his drunkenness or in response to Edwin’s command. To his surprise, it isn’t a look of horror. He lifts the mug and drinks from it quietly.
“I apologize— that — I shouldn’t have —”
“I feel better already,” Charles says when he sets the mug down, half drained. “Thanks.”
He actually does look to have sobered a fraction, his words coming out clearer. “Good. That’s good, Charles, thank you. I should’ve asked nicer.”
“I don’t mind.” Charles shifts closer then, and Edwin smells it.
Charles is wet.
He thought he could smell him faintly before, but it was a barely there musk, not strong enough to hold the center of his attention. He can definitely smell it now. Charles is sitting with spread legs, thigh pressed against Edwin’s and he can smell it well enough that it has his pupils dilating. It’s different, likely tinged by the alcohol in his system, but also headier in the way slick is different from the pheromones produced by his scent glands.
Edwin shifts to the other end of the couch, leaving still far too little a gap between them. He needs to get a hold of himself. He forces himself to stand up, under the guise of doing… something. Getting something, maybe. More tea? Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom for a few minutes.
“You reading this?” Charles’s voice makes Edwin snap back to attention. He realizes faintly that his knees are shaking. He turns his head back to Charles, who’s holding the novel Edwin left on his coffee table. “Interrupted your reading, didn’t I?”
Edwin might still be able to escape. Except that would leave Charles alone, which would be really shitty of him to do right now.
“I hadn’t started it yet. You didn’t interrupt,” Edwin says, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth.
“Read to me?” Charles whispers, “you have a nice voice.”
Edwin nods before he can think better and suddenly he’s sitting back down next to Charles, taking the novel from his hands and turning to the first page.
The reading helps. Edwin is able to lose himself in the words, his other senses fading out until he’s able to relax back into the couch, his focus on the book rather than on the boy next to him.
He doesn’t realize when Charles’s eyelids start to flutter shut, his body finally giving in to sleep. Edwin does notice, however, when Charles’s head plomps down onto his lap. His body jolts with the initial realization, then freezes. He looks at Charles for the first time since beginning to read. He has no choice not to. His eyelashes sit peacefully against his face, his mouth slightly open, enough that he’ll probably end up drooling on Edwin’s trousers. Shit. Charles looks like he’s already out cold. Edwin tries to relax his thighs, make himself a comfortable cushion for him. He should be trying to slip out, replace himself with a pillow and escape to his room.
Charles’s breath is slow and even, he can feel it warm against his leg. His curls look so very soft. They always do. Edwin turns his eyes back to his book, midway through chapter two.
He continues to read, quietly aloud. Around chapter four, his hand finds its way to Charles’s hair, petting through it gently.
A low purr vibrates beneath his touch.