Lost Boy - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Something isn't quite right between Charlie and Finn Friday afternoon. They're both sitting on the floor in Finn's living room, hunched over text books. It shouldn't be any different to their usual study sessions, but it is. There's no exchanging of words, no shared smiles, it's like they've stopped being them and started being Charlie and Finn, two completely separate people, a world away from where they once were.
"Are you pissed at me?" Charlie asks.
He can't take it any longer. He hates the way that everything has changed and it all feels like his fault. He hates that it has to be this way, he hates that his mind can't seem to make itself up. He hates his indecisiveness and himself. He hates it all.
Finn sighs.
"Of course I'm not, I just don't see why you want to go home."
"I don't want to, I need to. I think it'll be good for me."
"You think that seeing your abusive, homophobic, asshole of a father will be good for you?"
"Yes," Charlie replies, his voice surprisingly certain, "I can't keep on ignoring him forever, I need to sort everything out, one way or another, once and for all."
Finn pauses, chewing his pen beneath his lips as he considers Charlie's words.
"I guess I just don't want you to leave."
They both know that Finn's not just talking about Charlie going home tomorrow. It's about so much more than that; it's about what's going to happen when he comes back. Finn can't help but think that they've managed to take so many steps forward and now they're about to go right back to where they began.
"I won't."
"Don't make promises you might not be able to keep."
Charlie doesn't say anything else and the silence returns. Charlie desperately wants to fill it but he doesn't know how, everything he seems to be saying just seems to be making things worse.
So he simply links his fingers with Finn's (which admittedly makes studying a hell of a lot harder) and lets the pad of his thumb gently stroke along Finn's skin.
"I like you," he murmurs, "I like you a lot."
Finn doesn't look up from his textbook but his face does light up with a smile.
"I'm sorry," Finn says, "I mean I guess part of me kinda gets why you might want to go home, you need to sort things out with your dad and I'm just being selfish. I just don't want you to go home and start thinking this whole thing was a bad idea, you make me so damn happy Charlie, fuck, if you ever decided you didn't want this anymore I'm not sure what I'd do."
In moments like these Charlie sometimes can't help but picture Daniel's face. Like a little reminder of the terrible things that Charlie has done. Because it doesn't matter how many sweet nothings Finn whispers, or that Finn is saying he doesn't know how he'd survive without him. Deep down Charlie knows that Finn deserves so much better than him, deserves so much better than a boy who just breaks and hurts, who can't help himself from making the wrong decisions, the decisions that tear people's worlds apart, time and time again.
He's not sure he's ready to be something that Finn needs. He's only just coming to terms with being something that Finn wants.
"You'd be pissed off at me," Charlie whispers quietly, "probably refuse to talk to me for a few months, maybe years. And you'd swear that you were never going to get over me, and you'd curse my name to anyone that would listen. Then you'd meet some young thing that wasn't such an utter mess and he'd be cute and like me in all the right ways and unlike me in all the right ways and you'd realise whatever this is was just a dress rehearsal for the main event. And in a few years time we'll meet up again at Matt's wedding or something and you'll be able to tell me that you didn't need me as much as you thought you did."
Finn lies quiet for a few moments. Eyes staring up at the white ceiling above.
"I don't think it'd be like that. I might move on I guess, I think it might be weird if I didn't. But I'd never realise that I didn't need you, I think I might always need you Charlie, you're good for me."
"Fruit is good for you; people can't be."
"Well then you must be a fruit, because you're good for me Charlie, you do something to me I can't explain."
Charlie doesn't want to admit it but deep down he knows what Finn means, because he's starting to realise that Finn is good for him too. There's something about the person Charlie becomes when he's with Finn, more confident, more comfortable. Like he's shedding his past and the person inside is so much better and happier and more alive. Finn makes Charlie happy to be himself, he makes living his life worth it, Charlie's not just going through the motions anymore.
"You've got that look on your face that tells me you're thinking about something important and therefore probably boring," Finn drawls teasingly, "and yet I still want you to tell me what's on your mind."
"I think you might be good for me too."
"You know my favourite thing about you?"
"What?" Charlie asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Most of the time with other people you're still so cautious, you're still cutting yourself off a little bit. Whether intentionally or not I don't know. And sometimes you still do it with me, like you don't want to show how much you care because you're still afraid that he's going to take it all away. But there are moments when you let your guard down and you say things like that and it makes the words all the more special. Because I can see that you care just as much as I do, and I know you mean it because there's no way you'd say it otherwise."
"That's your favourite thing about me?" Charlie says, with mock surprise. "Not my handsome good looks, or my dazzling personality or my massive d-."
"Oh my good Charlie," Finn replies with a smile, "you're definitely changing."
He must see the way that Charlie's face falls.
"It's a good thing. I like it."
Charlie squeezes Finn's hand lightly and Finn returns the gesture, slowly tugging the other boy closer at the same time so that their shoulders are pressed against each other. Charlie leans his head on Finn's shoulder as he annotates his latest book for English.
"Good book?"
"It's okay, not really my cup of tea."
"Would I enjoy it?"
"There's nowhere near enough aliens or sex in it for you."
"Wow Charlie," Finn says, "is that all you think I read about? And you think I read about them together?"
"Yep I think all you read about is kinky aliens having freaky sex in outer space."
"You're dead right; it turns me the hell on."
"Just as long as you're not requesting me to dress up," Charlie murmurs.
"What? But I've already bought the tentacles and everything."
When they kiss, Finn is smiling against Charlie's lips. Fingers trailing with the lightest of touches across the other boy's cheek.
"You know I think we're due a study break."
"Does that mean you're so turned on right now you want to do nothing but kiss me?" Finn whispers in reply.
"Something like that."
"At least you're finally admitting it."
Charlie doesn't bother answering, simply brings their lips together and pushes Finn so he's laid down on the floor, Charlie hovering over him. It's not long before Charlie is straddling him, the two alternating between quick, fiery kisses and deep, slow ones. Charlie draws them out until he thinks he doesn't need oxygen if he's got Finn, before pressing a few in quick succession to Finn's already swollen lips.
There's no rush to the whole affair, no desperate removal of clothing or frantic touching and teasing. It's just two boys exchanging kisses on the floor of their apartment on a Friday afternoon. Forgotten textbooks scattered all around them.
Finn wonders if it's possible to spend time with Charlie without giving away part of himself. He seems unable to stop his heart from being stolen and slowly he can almost feel himself giving over every part of himself over to Charlie. This feeling is all consuming and burns through every vein, it's what Finn imagines love might feel like, all encompassing until Finn can't think of anything else but Charlie's face and until his brain is screaming Charlie's name on repeat. Maybe this is what devotion feels like, Finn doesn't know, he's never believed in god before this moment.
Languid kisses, passionate kisses, kisses that weaken Finn's knees till they feel like they've lost all muscle and bone. All the kisses are there. It feels like they're speaking another language, like they're saying the 'I like you's and 'I want you's and 'I need you's with a few simple meetings of the lips.
Charlie can hear nothing but the sound of his blood rushing in his chest and can feel nothing but Finn's lips and skin against his own. He's blind to the whole damn world, this room could be on fire and Finn's touch would be the only thing burning him.
"Please don't go," Finn begs in a whisper against Charlie's lips.
"I won't. I promise I won't."
And then there's nothing more to say because the kisses say it all. And Finn can't imagine ever growing tired of doing this, of reaching these dizzying heights. Can't even imagine really doing it with anyone else anymore. Part of Finn is concerned that no-one will ever measure up to Charlie, that shouldn't worry him though, at the moment Finn is hoping no-one will ever have to.
Finn's fingers have worked themselves into Charlie's hair, tugging him closer.
They're a tangled mess of kisses and limbs. A piece of art with a debateable meaning. A paradise with an expiration date.
They're both convinced that's not true though. And so they kiss not like the world is ending, but like they have all the time in it. There's no need to rush, no need to make up for time they'll lose later. For the first time they both feel like they actually have a chance of being more than a firework relationship. So beautiful, but fades quickly.
Charlie's hands are either side of Finn's shoulders as he leans over him, curls falling forward so that the only thing Charlie can see is Finn's face.
Charlie feels like the two of them are saying goodbye and hello all at once. And maybe that's true, maybe they're saying goodbye to the doubt and their old selves. Maybe they're saying hello to finally admitting that they have a chance.
Or maybe Finn is trying to make sure he gives Charlie a reason not to go.
Charlie won't.
He's starting to think this might be love and that's something he knows he can't turn his back on.
Charlie swears he won't. Charlie intends on keeping all of his promises.
Finn lets out a small moan and that only makes Charlie kiss him harder, until he thinks they might be fusing at least their souls together. Charlie's never been entirely sure about this two people becoming one bullshit, but he's starting to understand what it means now. It's starting to feel like he and Finn are breathing the same air, are sharing the same heart. It's starting to feel like Charlie might lose a part of himself if Finn was to go.
They're both starting to realise that they need each other. And maybe that's a good thing and maybe it's not but there's nothing either of them can do about it, it's far too late to stop now.
As fun as the kissing is it's becoming impossible to ignore the growing bulges in both of their pants. And now there's slightly more desperation, fingers tugging at fabric and Charlie's t-shirt being pulled over his head.
Finn breaks away from their kiss for a brief moment.
"Hands or mouth?" He asks simply.
Charlie pauses, presses their lips together quickly once again.
Finn can't help but notice the nervousness that lines his face, the way Charlie's teeth are biting down on his bottom lip as if he's thinking something over.
"I w-was thinking," Charlie begins, tripping over his words ever so slightly for the first time in a long time, "maybe we could try something, uhm, new."
"New?"
"We could y'know..."
"I know?"
"You could uhm, we could, try, y'know, uh, having sex," Charlie says the last two words so quickly that they almost blur together but Finn still manages to catch what he says.
"Charlie we don't have to, I don't mind waiting."
"I know we don't have to, and I know you don't mind waiting. But I want to, I think I'm ready."
A quick soft kiss is pressed to his lips.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
The kisses are softer after that. Finn definitely does not want to rush things from this point on, there's so much at stake now, he doesn't want to rush or push Charlie into anything he's not entirely sure about.
And so they take things slow.
Fingers tug at fabric and brush against skin but no more items of clothing are removed straight away, instead Finn pushes Charlie back slightly before standing up and pulling the other boy after him.
They head to the bedroom.
Pushing Charlie down onto the bed, Finn resumes the kisses. Scatters them all over Charlie's lips and the skin of his jaw and throat.
The soundtrack is breathy moans, whispered names, fabric against fabric and the ever so slight squeaking of springs every time one of them puts too much weight in one place.
"You sure?" Finn asks once again.
Charlie is pretty sure that he's never going to stop asking, definitely not now and probably not whenever they do it again. Finn will probably ask every time they get close to doing anything ever. And Charlie finds that he quite likes that, knowing that Finn truly wants him to be certain of whatever the two of them are choosing to do.
"Certain," Charlie whispers into Finn's ear before peppering kisses down his jaw and back to his lips.
Slowly, cautiously, Charlie begins to toy with the top button of Finn's shirt. And then, slowly still, he begins to undo every single button, one by one. He takes his time, sharing kisses as he does so. But the message is clear, they're moving forward, Charlie really is ready to do this.
And then it's hot skin against hot skin and it's somehow almost more painful to touch without the fabric separating them.
"Finn," Charlie gasps, a searing kiss being placed to the hollow of his neck.
But Finn is given no opportunity to reply as their mouths meet once again, limbs tangling in the blue bed sheet.
And then Finn's fingers are playing with the button of Charlie's jeans and Charlie is pulling at the buckle of Finn's belt. And there's touching and teasing and a burning need to just be closer.
"I need you," Finn mutters, and it's not just in an emotional sense anymore, he needs Charlie and his hands and his mouth and just – Charlie.
"You can have me."
Then buttons and buckles are undone and they're pulling at trousers and clothes are getting stuck and Charlie is laughing at how stupid Finn looks in just boxers and a pair of socks. But Finn is kissing the grin off his face and pulling him back closer so that they fall onto the bed and they're both smiling into the kiss and everything is their kind of messed up perfect.
Charlie's hand traces the outline of Finn's bulge through his pants and then his hand is slipping inside the fabric and Finn thinks he might be seeing stars or heaven or some kind of paradise no one has ever discovered before.
It's just slow strokes, nothing new to the two of them. But it feels different this time, and Finn's not sure if it's the knowledge of what's to come or if it's the sudden realisation of just how much this really means to him but all he knows is that his hips are bucking into Charlie's grip far more than they ever have before and that the moment seems all the more sweet.
And soft kisses are still being exchanged like gifts and Finn is pressing against Charlie's hand and it's tender and sweet and desperate and passionate all at once.
In this moment they are undoubtedly just them, not worrying about a thing, just revelling in the touch of someone with whom they share more than just a friendship. They're kindred spirits, soul mates, two halves of the same heart, something unnecessarily dramatic like that.
It is by no means perfect. The springs are still squeaking and Charlie's so nervous that for a few minutes he can't stop giggling. Then Finn bangs his skull on the headboard and Charlie struggles to pull Finn's boxers over his hips. But it doesn't need to be perfect, neither of them are that bothered about that, they're bothered about each other, about making sure that the other person is as happy in that moment as they possibly can be.
They're both feeling some kind of euphoria, like they're two boys discovering new worlds in the back of a wardrobe.
And it's a symphony of lips and skin and heavy breaths. A cacophony of fast beating hearts and slow sensuous touches. They're creating their own private tune made from 'I like you's and 'I want you's and 'I need you's.
Maybe this is what they like and want and need. This frantic friction and wild mess of sheets and limbs.
Finn presses another kiss to Charlie's lips and stills slightly, pushing the other boy's hand away.
"You okay?" Charlie asks, and it's weird for the roles to reverse myself like this.
"I'm great," Finn replies honestly, "you were doing so good, but y'know, if we're gonna do, y'know, then you should probably stop."
"Come on Finn, if I can say sex then you can too."
"Shut up." Finn tries to hide the blush starting to taint his cheeks.
Finn never blushes, Charlie is definitely doing something to him. Something seemingly impossible and surprisingly pleasant.
"Make me," Charlie drawls.
"I fully intend on doing so."
"Well you can try."
"Fuck you."
"I thought that was the plan anyway."
---
Later, Finn's arm is draped around Charlie's waist as he pulls him closer.
"You okay?"
"I'm good," Charlie says.
And good is a bit of an understatement, he feels like he's just found the answer to the world's greatest problem. It's this strange feeling of finally reaching the top of the mountain it feels like he's spent an age climbing. It's magical and euphoric and beautifully painful.
"You were great," Finn mumbles, an edge of teasing to his voice, "better than great even, potentially excellent."
"I enjoyed it," Charlie says, sporting a blush.
"Me too."
"We should do it again sometime."
"That sounds like a plan to me," Finn whispers into Charlie's ear.
Charlie's back is pressed into Finn's face and their legs are tangled together in the sheets. Finn has a protective arm slung over Charlie and for the first time Charlie feels safe. He feels immortal, like nothing anyone does or says could ever hurt him. For the first time he feels strong, stronger than his dad, and stronger than any religion and stronger than the boy he used to me. The boy who had to break hearts to survive.
With startling clarity Charlie realises that he could never break Finn's heart, they're joined, connected, and so that would mean breaking his own heart too.
Of course hurting Daniel hurt Charlie too, but not like Charlie imagines hurting Finn would.
Charlie is pretty sure it would rip out his heart and his soul. His body would be set to self-destruct.
And he's happy, he finally admits. He's happy right now in this bed with a boy wrapped around him, and he's happy when he sees Finn smile at him from across the room, and he's happy when he and Finn can sit in comfortable silence, textbooks propped open in front of them. Charlie can't imagine his life without Finn's smile and Finn's laugh and Finn's touch.
And so he's not going to give it up. He can't give it up, not if he wants to carry on.
Before Charlie had to break hearts to survive, now he needs to hold onto them.
"I'm not going to leave," Charlie mumbles.
It's a promise to himself as much as it is a promise to Finn.
And maybe it's selfish, and maybe Finn would be better off if Charlie just walked out of his life without looking back. But Charlie can't do that, he'd rather hope that they can make it than run scared of what's happened in the past.
Maybe Daniel was the exception, not the rule. Maybe Charlie's spent so long hung up on Daniel that he's jinxed himself. Maybe Finn isn't Daniel and maybe the two of them can make it.
Maybe. Maybe not.
Charlie's beginning to realise that he's willing to take that chance. It's not like he has anything to lose, Finn already has his heart, Charlie is pretty sure he wouldn't miss any other organs too much.
"What are you going to say to him?" Finn asks.
There's no need to define him, they both know exactly who Finn is talking about, it's the whole reason Charlie straightens slightly and feels his heart race in a completely different way to how it does when he's around Finn.
"I don't know," Charlie says honestly.
The thing is Charlie isn't entirely sure how to go about cutting his father out of his life and whether or not he's going to do that after all. Does he go around this weekend and then just stop answering his calls? Does he tell him all about Finn and then tell his Father exactly how he feels about everything?
It comes down to three simple questions really.
Does he tell his Father about Finn or not?
Charlie doesn't think he wants to bring Finn into this; it seems safer to leave the other boy alone. Charlie doesn't want to give Peter Martin anymore reason to hate Finn.
Does he pick a fight or not?
He wants to. He can feel the blood boiling in veins and his stomach and his brain and he's so ready to shout and to argue and to say how he really feels.
Is this goodbye?
The last question Charlie isn't so sure about. He so wants to cut Peter Martin out of his life, to say goodbye and never look back. To never worry about what his father might think ever again. But Charlie's grown up reading about fairytale style happy endings, about how you should never give up on family as they always stick by you when you have no one else left. He's grown up reading and analysing character development and believing that everyone has the capability to change, grow, and become a better person.
He's just not sure his Father is quite capable of all that. It's almost difficult to believe. But there's still a guilty feeling in the pit of Charlie's stomach whenever he thinks of giving up on his Father.
He still has a time to decide though, a whole night, maybe things will look different in the morning.
There sure seems to be a hell of a lot of maybes.
Right now Charlie's not going to dwell on it though, there are far more important things to be doing. Like spending time with the beautiful boy whose breath he can feel against his neck.
"Finn?"
"Yeah."
"Do you ever think about the future?"
"Like the immediate what am I gonna have for dinner future or the long term what am I gonna do with my life future?" Finn asks in reply.
"Long term."
"Well yeah."
"Am I in it?" Charlie says nervously.
"Yeah."
"And?"
"Charlie this is just embarrassing, please don't make me tell you about the future I've pictured for us."
"Please Finn."
"I'm so whipped," Finn sighs, "okay so because you're two years below me and because I picked a medical degree we're actually gonna graduate in the same year. So I'll become a junior doctor and work ridiculous hours and make like no money for what I'm doing. And you'll become a teacher – you still want to do that right? – and work sensible hours and probably make enough for us to get by. And we'll both work hard and eventually you'll be head of your department and I'll actually have a speciality ward and patients that I know and we'll be living in a cushy house in the suburbs where we know our neighbours and we buy organic vegetables and bake our own bread."
Charlie giggles at this and Finn smiles.
"And so we'll be living a good life and I'll finally get the courage up to get down on one knee and you'll say yes, of course. And we'll have a big but simple wedding ceremony with Eliza as our maid of honour and Matt will probably be both of our best man. And we'll wait a few years and then we'll adopt a few kids."
"A few?"
"Well I was thinking like three, but I'm open to more."
"Let's see how things go."
"And then we'll raise the kids together and grow old together and we'll both be ridiculously happy until the day we die."
Charlie knows that Finn is joking – or at least is most likely joking – but it's still nice to talk about things like these. To talk as if their relationship is definite and now it is starting to feel as if it almost is.
And Charlie knows right then that he'll give up whatever he has to. His heart, his Father, his soul, if it means he has a chance at a future with the boy lying next to him.