Play It Again, Charlie (36 page)

“You like helping people, don't you?” Will came around again, sweeping his palms down Charlie's shoulders and arms. “Then you should, if they ask you to.” His touch got softer, slowed, and Charlie held still as Will looked him over. He hadn't realized Will had stopped cutting. He'd even forgotten that Will was still naked. Heat spread down through his face to his neck, and Will's hands stopped there for a moment. “So it wasn't like a ‘let's get back together’ lunch?”

He was too quiet when he wanted to be. Charlie had almost missed it.

“No.” He pushed out a breath. “I think one heartbreak per person is enough for anybody,” he muttered, though he knew Will wouldn't understand. Will was tilting his head as usual, then he blinked.

“Okay!” He dropped his hands as he stepped back. “Look at that. You
do
have a face!” He twirled one hand, then smiled as he turned away. He went to the case and came back with a handheld mirror. “Want to see?” He raised it without waiting for an answer.

Charlie stared back at himself, at his hair, which was the same as it had been, only shorter. He glanced up.

“Don't think I didn't notice your little panic attack earlier, Charlie.” Will pursed his lips to hide a small smile and didn't seem to notice Charlie's jump at his choice of words. “So I just trimmed it. Though, maybe I can try something new later? What you have now is hardly as flattering as it could be.”

Charlie ran a hand through his hair again.

“It's nice. Really.” Thoughtful, with how angry Will had been, with how much he clearly disliked Charlie's haircut. “Thank you. You're good at this.”

“I know.” Will wasn't any less pissy after all, though Charlie wasn't sure what he'd done this time.

He looked up again, and Will took his eyes away to gather up his tools, then walked over to put them away. He set them down with exaggerated care and mumbled something about cleaning them. He really was surprisingly fastidious. Charlie set the mirror down on the table.

“Does that take a long time? The cleaning?” Will stopped at his question, peering over at him, then shook his head. Charlie put his hands back to his buttons, tried to surreptitiously wipe his palms on his shirt. He must enjoy making painful personal mistakes, because he didn't stop himself. “What else did you have planned for tonight?”

“I'm going to wash these,” Will began slowly, standing as he waved to indicate his case and the supplies in it. “Then I thought I might wash me.” He made a circle over his head, then his chest. “Crazy, I know. How about you?”

“Just... .” Scowling wasn't going to make his life any more exciting. Charlie made himself say it. “Laundry.” He thought about it. “And I should really return
The Maltese Falcon
. The late fees have to be bad by now.”

“Late fees?” Will gasped and put a hand to his chest. “Charlie Howard has late fees? I bet you pay them right away too. You're that type.”

“I do.” Charlie brushed his hair back as Will smirked but glanced away. He glanced back when Charlie went on. “Though I might get something else, while I'm there. If I can find something good, I mean. And I could get some dinner, while I'm out.” He didn't think he was being subtle, but Will was staring at him anyway, uncertainty all over his face. Charlie felt stupid asking like this when they were both naked, or practically, already. When they'd just fucked not half an hour before. Not that Will was acting like the nudity bothered him. Maybe it didn't, and Charlie was the only one who felt so exposed. “Did you want to come with me?”

The small line between Will's eyes smoothed out, but he didn't move.

“Really?” Will looked at the floor, then up and back and Charlie. “Yes. Maybe. It depends.” His foot nudged at the pile of Charlie's clothes before he crossed his arms. When Charlie's mouth dropped open, just a little, he tried a smile and let his arms fall.

“On what?” Charlie asked quietly, and Will shrugged as he walked toward Charlie's small dining room.

“On whether I have to get dressed.” Will hummed when he reached Charlie, then slid one arm around his shoulders and maneuvered himself down onto Charlie's lap, or actually, onto Charlie's right leg. Charlie grunted at the weight, though Will kept his feet on the floor.

“Well, you're not going anywhere like this,” Charlie got out, though his throat was suddenly constricted. Will's body was as hot as ever, all warmth and soft skin pressing against him. His cologne hadn't faded. “You don't want to get dressed? I mean, go out?” Charlie asked a second later.

“I'm not in the mood, for some reason.” Will looked serious despite being naked and sitting bare-assed on Charlie's leg. He still wasn't moving. Charlie could have pushed him off, not that he would ever have done that to anyone, but he definitely wasn't going to do that to Will. “Is that okay?”

“You know, you're heavy,” Charlie commented at last, not really answering, his eyes widening when Will instantly shifted to get more of his weight on the floor. It made him hold tighter to Charlie's neck, so Charlie put an arm around his waist. Will held himself up for about half a minute, then leaned back against him. Charlie hid his grunt better this time, though Will obviously still heard it.

“I bet I didn't feel heavy a few minutes ago,” Will answered, his tone sharp until he breathed out. “You big strong man you.”

“Stop saying that.” It wasn't like Charlie enjoyed blushing. Will was in his
lap
. If they'd been on the couch, or the single stuffed chair, he had a feeling Will would have curled up against him. It wasn't a bad thought, and it didn't exactly make him want to get up and run to the store, either. “We could just stay like this for a while, then,” he agreed quietly, and without looking he had a feeling Will rolled his eyes. “But I don't know what we'd do about dinner. I mean, I have pie.”

Will let out a shocked laugh.

“Late fees and pie for dinner?” he demanded, then he pulled back to peer at him. “You would, wouldn't you? You'd get all practical about needing to eat and then you'd have pie for dinner.”

“Says the man who ate cake for dinner,” Charlie shot back. Will raised both eyebrows.

“And regretted it the next day,” he pointed out, not so quietly. “I suppose we can eat pie for now. Though maybe we can get something solid later, if we want to. If you get hungry, you could, um, make something. I didn't mind before. It was good. It might be nice, to do it again.”

“Okay.” Charlie let out a very long breath and felt the muscles in his back and shoulders relax a fraction as Will's fingers danced quickly over them, though the gesture wasn't what he would call soothing. His tension was understandable, considering the discussion they'd just had, were having, he wasn't really sure. He glanced over, but Will looked back at him innocently and didn't stop his hands. Charlie decided not to ask why it mattered if
he
got hungry and not Will. He didn't want to ruin the mood, didn't want to do anything that would make Will get up, no matter how heavy he was. Will, however, apparently wasn't done talking.

“What if I want pizza later?” Will asked out of the blue, regarding him without blinking. Charlie frowned, but nodded.

“Okay,” he agreed, with a note of caution this time. Will narrowed his eyes. It only increased Charlie's feeling that they weren't done talking.

“What if I want steak instead?”

“Steak?” Charlie repeated, wanting to put a hand to his head. Will shifted, not quite bouncing impatiently but demanding his answer just the same. Charlie winced. “Fine. That's fine too.” He was ready when Will's expression went shifty and almost pissed off.

“What about noodles?”

“Do you actually want noodles?” Charlie glared at him for a long moment, then
did
put a hand to his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose when Will shook his head. “Do you want
any
of those? If you want them, just let me know. Christ.”

Will looked shocked at Charlie's language, then ducked his head. His face was warm against Charlie's neck. “I don't get you, Charlie,” he mumbled.

“So you've said,” Charlie sighed. Will thought
he
was strange. It should have been funny.

“Not that I mind when you get all hot and bothered,” Will informed him. “But do
you
want to go get some noodles?”

“Don't tempt me.” For the second time in only a few minutes, Charlie was close to snarling again. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the earnest way Will breathed the question into his ear. Will's fingers stopped their strumming. He half expected Will to make another comment about how riled up he was, or leave, but Will only made a small noise.

“Pie is good for now, Charlie,” he decided quietly, without making the least move to go get it. Charlie let himself sit back, and after another moment, spread his fingers out over Will's side. He'd take what he could for as long as he could.

“Pie sounds great,” he agreed.

Even with his attention on the notes on the screen in front of him, Charlie stopped at the sound of his phone ringing. He looked over his shoulder at Sam and then made a face. He'd already spent most of his afternoon talking with Katia, discussing summer break day-care options for Alicia, and part of his evening offering his opinion to Missy on whether Taylor liking bugs was going to kill her and what she should do if he started to bring spiders into the house.

He had a feeling that if he had let the talk turn to himself, he would have spilled everything, and then all three of his sisters would have descended on him to hunt down Will and more than likely completely scare him off. Will leaving was something that would probably happen soon enough anyway, Charlie hadn't seen any reason to hurry it along by involving his family.

He wasn't sure what there was to mention, anyway. Will was young and not used to anything that wasn't casual. Maybe all there would be was Will appearing at his door for dinner and sex until he got bored of both.

Charlie had gone over the arguments in his head before and stared hard at his laptop, not that he was seeing his seminar notes anymore. It had taken him an hour just to focus on his work, and now his focus was gone with one call. He'd guessed Will wouldn't be coming over tonight. Charlie was supposed to be using this time to get some work done.

Will had a busy schedule. He had made that clear, and Charlie had been okay with it. He'd smiled and nodded and watched Will as he'd quietly, almost nervously, shared that information. Will had a life. Charlie understood. He didn't think Will would bother lying if he were already done with Charlie, and it wasn't as though he and Will had to spend all their free time together or that he in any way needed Will to check in with him.

Of course, Charlie had done exactly that on Tuesday when Will had called him at work. But only because he and Jeanine had been going to work out, and he hadn't wanted Will to expect him home earlier the way he had the day before.

In any case, Will had only seemed mildly surprised and not even a little disappointed at being told Charlie would be home late. Charlie had spent the rest of the day wondering if he'd done something wrong, ducking Jeanine's amused looks and not calling Will back to ask any one of the hundred needy questions ricocheting through his brain. He had still been preoccupied when he'd finally gotten home and had taken far too long to answer his e-mail, only to practically leap to get the door at the sound of impatient knocking.

Will had been a whirlwind on the other side, stretching up toward Charlie's mouth and pushing himself forward, dropping his bags and case behind him, barely making it inside the door at all.

Charlie glanced over. First his door, and now he was never going to look at his kitchen table the same way, either. Judging from Will's playful, breathless, “I'll give you a workout, Charlie,” that had been Will's intention. They'd showered after that, then ended up eating sandwiches on the couch and flipping channels until Will had finally stretched and announced that he was going to drive out to his sister's house and probably spend the night there.

Will had seemed restless once he'd gotten to his feet. He should go. Her hair needed to get done. He hadn't seen her in a while. She had his copy of some movie. Charlie had only nodded. Charlie was hardly going to get between Will and his sister, even if he'd been looking forward to Will spending another night with him. So he hadn't said anything, and Will had frowned, then gone on for a moment longer before heading out.

He hadn't called all day, not that he needed to. Charlie wasn't going to get demanding. He just wanted to know what Will had been up to today, if he was still with his sister, how he was. The way Will described his more unpleasant clients was entertaining in the same way that Charlie liked it when he got excited about hair. He had a feeling Will could talk for a
very
long time about hair, and even when it made no sense to him, Charlie found himself breathing easier as he listened. And now that he thought about, in the middle of another tirade about clients the other day, Will
had
said something about needing supplies. Maybe he'd spent the day picking out dye or whatever, or working, going to one of his dangerous, off-the-Internet customers.

Tomorrow, Charlie decided. It wouldn't seem too anxious to call Will tomorrow, after just a day without seeing him or hearing from him. He could make it casual, maybe on his way to the store, ask what Will's day had been like, maybe mention he was buying groceries and Will would say he was hungry and... .

Charlie closed his eyes and reached for his phone with a sigh.

“Hello.” He opened his eyes again to correct a typo, then stopped at Will's voice. He could barely hear it.

“Charlie!” Will exhaled. The background noise started to get quieter. “Did you have a bad day?”

“What?” Charlie put his hand over his other ear to make sure he could hear everything. Will grumbled something, and then suddenly the sound around him dropped away to a murmur. “Where are you?”

“The club,” Will said, as though Charlie knew what he was talking about, as usual. Then he sighed too. “You made a noise when you answered. I thought... . Am I interrupting something? I can, um, call back.” He added something else, but to himself.