Work Text:
9:00pm, on a Friday
Philadelphia, PA
Low music filled the apartment, the only light coming from a collection of black pillar candles set on the side table. It wasn’t often you had alone time, but with your roommates out of state to visit their parents, you seized the moment - darkness, an easel, and the dulcet notes of your favourite album to keep you company. As you surveyed your current drawing with an overly critical eye, swirling your glass of wine and trying to convince yourself it was worth saving, you decided this was all you wanted in life.
Screw other people, who needs other people? If you were trapped in this night forever like some kind of Groundhog Day situation, you were sure you wouldn’t try to commit suicide.
Ding dong
Dammit.
Other people.
What time was it anyway? Was this really the time for people to be coming to your door? A cursory glance at the wall clock confirmed that yeah, it’s way too late for assholes to come knocking at your door.
At first you were just gonna ignore it, maybe crank up the music and focus on what colour scheme you would settle for, but whoever was there kept jamming the doorbell like their life depended on it. Clearly, this wasn’t a fight you’d win, so with a defeated sigh you hopped off your stool and shuffled over to the front door. The man behind it wasn’t who you were expecting…
“Hey!”
“Oh, hey Charlie..?”
“So! Ah… quiet night in, huh?”
You quirked an eyebrow, noticing the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Not that I don’t love seeing you, dude, but wanna tell me why you’re here?”
He awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets and offered you an uneasy smile.
“Frank brought some strippers back to our place so he kinda… kicked me out, you know how it goes.” He raised his hand to scratch at the scruff of his neck. “Didn’t feel like sleeping out in the hallway again, though, and I figured… y’know, we get along right?”
You blinked - for a moment, you considered making some shit up for the sake of spending your night the way you’d planned, but you could never lie to Charlie’s little rat face.
“Yeah, sure- yeah we get along great! Um, come in, man.” Stepping aside, you let him into the dimly lit apartment. All at once, your nerves piled on top of you; what if he thought your apartment was weird? Did he think you looked bad in your pyjamas? Thena thought hit you right in the panic centres.
‘Fuck, all my art’s out!’
Scurrying into the room, you hoped that somehow you’d be able to clear away your drawings before he saw, but by the time you got there, Charlie was already in front of your easel. You swallowed hard, rubbing the inside of your wrist.
“I- uh, I was just… well my roommates are outta town so, u-uh…”
“Did you draw this?”
You nodded, awaiting the criticism.
“Dude, this is cool as shit!”
…Oh!
Unexpected, but not unwelcome!
You joined him in front of the easel, giving him a look of disbelief.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I mean… just look at it! You’re really good, [y/n].” He sounded so sincere, and the way his finger tips grazed the paper like he wanted to appreciate it through every sense… it was a little overwhelming. You were never good at taking a compliment.
“...Thank you, means a lot coming from you, I know you like art ‘n shit.” You mumbled, fiddling with a paintbrush thrown haphazardly on the side table. Charlie huffed, his familiar side smirk painted on his lips.
“ Oh yeah , man, I like all kindsa art. I mean the guys always say I don’t really get art, but they just don’t get me , know what I mean?”
You nodded, more to yourself than him. “I don’t know why they’re always so dismissive of you…” You thought out loud, to which he yelled, “Right?!”
It wasn’t long before he had you digging out your other sketchbooks, bashfully flicking past any of the dumb or questionable drawings to try and show him the good stuff while you sat criss-cross on the carpet. You doubted anyone could actually be impressed by what you did, yet here he was making a fuss over each and every silly doodle. At some point, he pushed the current sketchbook back to you and rested his arms in his lap.
“What if I showed you my art some time? I think you’d like ‘em - there isn’t as many demons and uh… guts but I think there’s the same amount of topless chicks?” Charlie offered, that same hopeful glint in his eye; the dude had a habit of pulling puppy dog eyes on you [and to his credit, it always worked]. You chuckled to yourself.
“Sounds good to me, man, I like all kinds of art too.” You shrugged, scooping up all your books to stash them back in the trunk next to your bedroom doorway. “I guess we’re both pretty artsy, huh?”
“Yeah! I mean we like drawing and music and— dude .”
Your head swivelled to look at him, a silent urge for him to continue.
“We should make something together!”
You spluttered, hating the way your cheeks heated and hoping it wasn’t obvious.
“Wh— us ? You—y-you wanna make something with me…?”
“Totally!” He hopped up to get in your personal space; “We’d make the most kick-ass brain child! You ever write a musical before? It’s super cool, we could write one together.”
Charlie rattled off ideas left and right, brain chugging at a mile a minute while you were struggling to keep up; how someone could jump from one tangent to another faster than you could blink was entirely beyond you, and so was anything he was trying to tell you. To stop him from talking your ear off, you stiffly laid your hand on his bicep - and it worked.
“Sounds killer, but… maybe we could talk about it tomorrow?”
He stared at you, mouth slightly agape before he snapped out of it and nodded.
“Right… right, sorry got kinda…” He snorted awkwardly and waved his hands around his head, “ ahead of myself , it’s whatever, you’re probably tired.”
“No, it’s cool, you’re excitable. One of the things I like about you.” Trailing off at the end, you dropped your hand from his arm and headed to the kitchenette. “Do you want something, like a glass of water? Or I think we have some cheese left in the fridge— shit, midnight already? ”
Charlie perked up at the mention of cheese. He didn’t see any problem with helping himself [after all, you did offer], and he watched you pour a glass of water for yourself while he idly ate through the platter.
Honestly, he couldn’t quite believe he was alone in your apartment with you. When he showed up, he was expecting to be turned away and called a creep - memories of the Waitress still fresh on his mind - but of course you were nice enough to invite him in. You were always so nice to him, something he wasn’t really used to; after all, it’s not like the guys ever really treated him nicely. He didn’t quite understand why you were so sweet and appreciative, but like hell was he gonna question it.
He had a good thing going here, and with any luck it might get better.
The clink of your glass against the marble countertop brought Charlie out of his cheese-induced stupor.
“‘S pretty late… we should probably sort out the sleeping arrangement, right?” You said, taking the empty platter and dumping it in the sink. Charlie followed you back into the main area, rubbing his hands.
“Right! Yeah! How’s the couch situation here? By the looks of it they have all their springs - classy!” He rambled on, inspecting your shitty thrifted couch with a furrowed brow. Your immediate instinct was to offer him as many blankets as he wanted to make it comfy, but then a daring idea wormed into your head. Maybe it would come off weird, but you were confident you could spin this any way you needed to. Besides, if Charlie took it in a horny way then that’s God’s plan.
You folded your arms to make yourself feel a little more secure, digging your toes into the carpet. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch, it‘s not really big enough for it. I’m ok with sharing the bed if you are…?”
Charlie froze, straightening right up and looking like a deer in headlights. He pointed at your bedroom door.
“Your— your bed? Together—?”
“I-it’s not like that , I’m not trying to sleep with you.” You quickly shut down - so much for ‘God’s plan’. “I’d just feel bad if you had to sleep on that dingy old sofa, is all.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked disappointed, but it only lasted a second. Charlie tried to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders, however you couldn’t deny the excited smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth.
“I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Which is how you found yourself here, brushing your teeth entirely too hard as Charlie talked to you from your bedroom. You could barely process a word he was saying, too focused on the fact that shit, you were about to spend the night with the guy you liked .
What was wrong with you, why did you offer that?! Lord knows your dumbass navigates social situations with the grace of a brain-damaged horse, so why the fuck did you think this was going to work? Are you really that stupid?! Stupid stupid stupid —
Ow, brushed too hard… that might be blood in your spit.
“Ok, Christ, relax.” You mumbled to yourself, shutting your eyes so you could black out all the sensory overload. “It’s just Charlie, your friend! The guy who eats cat food and bashes rats, his standards aren’t exactly high…”
But even trying to remind yourself of his astonishingly low standards didn’t help, because you just wanted him to like you. It sounded so pathetic, but you couldn’t get around it - all you wanted was him to like you as much as you liked him.
‘Fuck’s sake, stop thinking about it already, you’re only psyching yourself out.’
After all, it’s not like you’re about to fuck him, anyway.
“You alright in there?”
Your breath caught in your throat, followed by your toothbrush clattering against the sink and the light quickly flipping off. Tentatively, you stepped out of the en suite to see Charlie perched on the side of your bed, testing how the mattress bounced back.
“Hope it’s comfy enough.” The blood rushed in your ears as you approached the other side of the queen size, setting your phone on the bedside table. “Spend a lotta time in here, so I try to make it as nice as I can.”
He hummed as you settled on the bed, gingerly pulling up the duvet. So far he had hesitated to get under there himself, but now you were right next to him he was finding it difficult to resist.
Your duvet smells exactly like you, he noticed - like sugar and vanilla and niceness . Everything was so soft, so much gentler than the rickety old pullout he shared with Frank, but he bet you felt a lot softer. Then the warmth rolled over him like a pleasant wave.
“ Woah , yeah, this is.. real nice…” You’d never heard Charlie so blissed out. In a way, he looked bewildered, but you couldn’t say you were surprised; you’ve seen the state of his apartment. You dared to inch closer to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice as you made a benign response.
Oh, he noticed.
Christ, you were so close now, it was intoxicating. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and never let go - to feel how soft and warm you are, bury his nose in your fluffy hair. Luckily, Charlie had learned that was a little too much just yet… he could hold out for now, if only so he didn’t scare you off. The last thing he wanted was to ruin your perception of him.
A small yawn creeped out of your chest, and Charlie found it endearing, like he found damn near everything about you endearing.
“I think I’m gonna pass out… have a good sleep, Charlie…”
“Night.”
Charlie stared at the ceiling, and in five minutes you were out cold. Even the way you slept sounded sweet to him… ugh, he was whipped. The buzzing of his phone started to annoy him, but he elected to ignore it in favour of nuzzling in closer to you. It was probably just Frank asking where he disappeared to, anyway. Focusing on feeling you next to him was way more important.
Maybe he didn’t have to lie about Frank bringing whores back to their place, but how else would he justify spending the night with you?