Play It Again, Charlie (45 page)

“No,” Charlie responded instantly and could have kicked himself. At least it brought Will's smile back. “I just... it's training. To seem as though you have the answers, even when you don't.”
Even when he's scared to death, it's better for everyone that way.
“There's no need to spread panic.”

Will's eyes went wide again. He licked his lips then stepped over to drink his coffee. Maybe he thought that sounded crazy, not that Charlie could think of a way to explain it better.

“You pretend to feel calm when you aren't?” Will put down the cup and met his gaze. His lips were parted, his attitude nothing but surprise. Charlie put his hands to his lap and ran his palms over thighs. “Were you?”

“Was I what?” Charlie watched questions run through Will's eyes. He tugged on the sheets. Will noticed.

“Panicked around me and I didn't see it?” Will bit his lip, and then his hands were up. “Other than in the car when you drive. And when I asked you to... well... .”

Charlie knew his mouth fell open, just a little, but he didn't realize he was scowling until Will reached over to smooth two fingers between his eyes. “Don't make wrinkles, Choux Choux.”

“Will.” Charlie got that out, at least. It didn't mean anything, he told himself. Even if Will already knew some of it, once he knew everything, he would leave. He wanted someone in charge, had all but said so. If Charlie said yes, that he panicked or still had random anxiety attacks, it was only a matter of time before Will was gone. But he couldn't lie.

He sucked in air, kept calm despite everything, and wondered if Will could see it now.

“People respond to it. You and your friend certainly did, when I first met you.” He didn't want to sound accusing, because he was grateful that Will had taken an interest in him.

For all his talk about Charlie's wrinkles, there was now a line in Will's forehead. His mouth twisted before he glanced away and back again. Charlie reached out and grabbed Will's wrist before Will could pull away.

“That isn't why,” Will mumbled, but he let him. “And you can't get mad at people for judging you based on your image when you deliberately put that image out there. I mean, you thought I was crazy, didn't you?

“Of course,” Will went on without pausing, “then you thought I was amazing.” Will softened his voice. “Guess all it takes it getting to know someone.”

“Have you always been like this?” The question was drawn out of him as Will stepped back to the closet, cleaning up as he went, like he really couldn't help himself.

“Fabulous?” Will asked without turning.

“Incredible.” Charlie realized he meant it. Will made a strangled, squeaky noise, and then his words poured out fast and breathless, though he kept his face turned.

“What you see before you, Charlie, is the result of many years of trial and error, name changes, bad career choices, dumb decisions, and lots of hair-color experiments. Most of which I wouldn't do again. Sometimes I think I wouldn't have done them at all if I hadn't been thrown out... it doesn't matter, does it? Not if the result is... say that again, please.”

“Incredible?” He felt like an idiot, but he could see the pink at the shells of Will's ears.

“
Charlie
,” Will said, still without turning. He put ties back, straightened hangers that were already straight, and then fluttered his hands up over more labeled boxes and stopped with his hand over the plain black box, with no label and a heavy lock on the front.

“What's this one?”

It seemed like a distraction, which was strange, Will wanting to avoid a compliment. But Charlie wasn't going to push it.

“My gun.”

Will yanked his hand back, then reached out again a moment later. “Sometimes, Charlie, I have the hardest time picturing you as a cop. And then... . Did you ever use it?”

“No. Not like you mean.”

Will kept his hand on the box for another moment, then took it away. He shrugged.

“But you keep it. My dad always kept his too.” Will glanced over his shoulder when Charlie made a sound, curious but not wanting to pry. Will's look said Charlie could ask if he wanted, but he continued talking without waiting. “Army.” As though that said it all.

Charlie wasn't sure what to say back. Will should never have been kicked out, but the only thing he could possibly offer in return was an equally depressing story about his father leaving.

He looked down, rubbing at the scar though the ache was always inside, then cleared his throat.

“I wasn't shot in the line of duty or anything.” He could do distractions too. “Everybody always thinks that.” He sounded cranky, but honestly, everyone always
did
think that. Will shifted to look at him, turning first his head and then his feet.

“What? Lovers’ quarrel?” He angled his head to one side and made his tone bright, though they both knew that Mark wouldn't have bothered.

“Are you serious?” He took his hand off his leg.

“Well,
I'd
fight over you.” Will stepped closer to give Charlie's shoulder a reassuring pat. He'd seen too many movies.

“It was just a car accident.” Charlie's throat stayed blocked for a long, horrible moment, and he looked at anything that wasn't Will. “Some drunk"— there weren't words strong enough sometimes—"
asshole
. He was just fine.”

Fine like Charlie never would be again. With a hip that ached and would only get worse as he got older, until he'd probably have to get the whole thing replaced, and anxiety that hit him in the car, on the freeway, sometimes for no reason at all. Things that left him much too weak to be what Will wanted, and that bastard was probably on probation and already driving drunk again.

It wasn't fair. Not that anything ever really was. He shouldn't expect it to feel any better after all this time, but he grimaced and put a hand to the bed to push himself up and away, only to fall back when Will came to the edge of the bed.

“That's why you get like that in the car.” He didn't ask, only frowned intently for a long moment. “Oh.” It was a nice, short way to say that Charlie was, quite obviously, not what Will was looking for.

Charlie clenched his jaw so he wouldn't be stupid enough to say that too.

“But you're better now, physically, I mean.” Will's voice was hopeful, and Charlie bit back his reply, that he was still in pain and there was always the chance it could get worse.

He reached out instead, touched Will's arm for one moment. Will said “Oh” again. “And you don't want to talk about it.” Without looking up at Will's face, Charlie couldn't tell what Will had meant by that.

All there was to talk about was waking up to his Nana's frightened face and his sisters crying, and round after round of surgery with Ann shouting at his doctors from his bedside, and then months of physical therapy. It wasn't the kind of thing Will looked for in his movies.

Charlie shook his head. Will's eyebrows went up. After a minute he coughed.

“Okay. Is that when... you know... left?” He waved toward his coffee cup. Charlie blinked at the unexpected question, then shook his head. “And you became Professor Charlie?”

“I told you.” Charlie stopped at Will's grin. “Yes. I had earned the degree, after all.”

“I bet you would have been amazing, if you'd stayed.” Will scrunched his nose. “If you could have. But I bet you like this better,” he declared loftily and smirked when Charlie looked into his eyes. “Students have to listen when you boss them around. Tell them what to do.” Will dropped his voice for just one moment, long enough to make Charlie shiver. Then he tapped him between the eyes. “Wrinkles again.”

He was trying to lighten the mood, and Charlie let him. He reached over once more to touch Will's arm. This time his fingers found the ends of the purple tie.

“You need to stop making bets.”

“Why?” Will grinned, though it slipped when Charlie curled his fingers around the purple silk. His breath started to come a little faster. “I win them,” he bragged, and then he let out a shocked gasp when Charlie tugged him down onto the bed next to him.

It was only for a second, and then Will was sliding closer, at his side and then over his lap when Charlie sat back to allow it. “Do they make you wear the ties at work?” Will settled in, heavy and warm and in need of a shower, not that Charlie really minded.

“Wh— no. My family thought I was the kind of person to wear them.”

Will hummed and looked directly at him. “Oh, I'm not complaining. I like them.” He tilted his head as he reconsidered. “Most of them. Anyway, if you wore T-shirts and jeans every day, everyone would catch onto your hotness sooner, and we can't have that.”

Charlie scowled at the joke, but Will was staring hard at Charlie as though Charlie was going to start wearing T-shirts to work.

“As it is, those suits barely contain it.”

Charlie almost said, “Don't be ridiculous,” but he changed his mind as Will's pop song rang out from somewhere in the other room. “Your phone is ringing.” Will didn't move or suddenly remember that he should go.

“Do you have plans for the day?” He splayed one hand out on Charlie's chest.

“I have to adjust the timers for the outside lights. Do laundry.” Which was as boring as he was, but Will nodded. His phone started ringing again. Charlie made it halfway through the chorus.

“Are you going to get that?” At his tone, Will raised his head and looked offended.

“You're always pushing me away.” The look in his eyes was sharp. “It's
almost
the only order you ever give me, Charlie.” He licked his lips, making his brief sulky expression almost seductive. “But I don't feel like listening today. I am not about to go anywhere. In fact, if I have to, I'll— ” Will stopped and looked around. Then he slid his hand up to Charlie's shoulder until the ends of the tie trailed over his chest. When Charlie inhaled, Will's expression turned wicked. “Tie you to this bed until you have your way with me.”

“What? That's— ” Charlie shut his mouth too late. “Will.” Will had been kidding, obviously. No way was that even possible after last night and this morning, at least not for him. As for the rest of it... . He swallowed. “Don't joke about that.”

Will narrowed his eyes and didn't seem aware that his head leaned toward one shoulder.

“Or I could tie you up and have my way with you.” Will thought he was funny, and stuck out the tip of his tongue.

Charlie's heart beat faster of the idea of being tied up like that, his stomach tightening with the same nervous reaction that made his face get hot.

“You wouldn't have to tie me up.” It seemed safer to admit to that. Will's head came up and his eyes got wide.

“
You've
bottomed? Sergeant Control Freak?” Will didn't have to sound so shocked, if that
was
shock making his voice even rougher. Charlie had a few times, when he'd been younger, in school, and later with Mark. “With... ?” Will seemed about to echo that thought but stopped himself.

“That's kind of hot, you know. You bottoming for me.” He hummed. “Though, generally, I like to get fucked, Charlie.”

Somehow Charlie didn't think Will was blushing.

“I've noticed.” His voice was as dry as dust.

“I'm glad.” Will gave a small laugh, then pushed in against him. “But I think... I think I'd like that, someday.” Will's hands went to Charlie's sides, and Charlie exhaled, at the idea, or that word,
someday
. “Charlie?” Will paused, then pulled back. “Imagine it, though, me tying you to the bed.”

As though an inability to imagine it was the problem. Charlie opened his mouth, but Will slowly shook his head side to side, and that was enough to keep him quiet.

“I won't make you anxious, I swear.
I swear
,” he repeated when Charlie hesitated. “I won't even do it tight, like I like it.” He lowered his voice until it was as soft as the sound of the green tie sliding from his neck, and he kept talking until one of Charlie's arms was against the bedpost.

It was a little awkward; Charlie was near the edge of the bed. He almost said something, but then his tie was around his wrist and pushing into his skin until he moved. Will didn't even tie a knot. Charlie watched him tuck one side in and thought about pulling his arm up. The tie would simply fall away.

“But I do like it tight, Charlie.” Will was careful. “Just so you know.”

“That's not much of a knot.” Charlie kept his voice level with serious effort and left what Will was telling him for his dreams later. Will slanted a knowing look his way before dragging the purple silk from his arm. He arched his eyebrows when Charlie raised his other hand to the headboard for him. The purple tie was softer.

“Oh, I'm just letting you get used to the feel of them,” Will declared smugly. “Once you are, I am totally making you my love slave.” He sat back to enjoy his handiwork, and Charlie had to fight not to glare at the ridiculous face Will was making.

“What?” His tone made Will crack a smile, but then he was moving. Charlie had a moment of panic even though he could get away, and he didn't think Will would leave
now
, but Will only turned himself around before sitting back in Charlie's lap.

He was still kneeling on the bed, so most of his weight wasn't on Charlie, but he leaned back into Charlie's chest and wiggled his ass in a way that wasn't entirely necessary. Charlie's mouth was over his ear, then in his hair as he shifted. Exhausted or not, Charlie's body liked him there.

“Will,” he warned, and Will wriggled again, as though if he could he'd give Charlie a lap dance right that minute. It was warm, way too warm, but Charlie wanted to reach out and pull Will even closer. “We aren't doing this now.” He
couldn't
now. Will obviously had other ideas.

“Do you think it's still reverse cowgirl if I'm not a cow
girl
?” he wondered idly. Then he reached up with one arm to put a hand over one of Charlie's. Then he sighed and stopped moving.

“You aren't funny.” Charlie did his best to sound stern. It was difficult with Will settling against him.

“You're cranky when you're tied up.” Will's fingers were tracing circles onto his hand. Charlie took it for all of a minute and then pulled both hands free, leaving the ties to dangle from his wrists as he put his hands over Will's stomach.