Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Edwin doesn’t believe in luck, good or bad. One might assume he would, since paranormal entities and forces, magic and god-like beings exist, why not luck? But he doesn’t like the notion of events happening merely because someone is lucky or unlucky. Because what would it say about him that his luck led him to Hell? He was left there and had to claw his way out, and there was nothing lucky about that either.

But what else would you call being hit with a lust spell as a one hundred and twenty-three year old virgin other than bad luck?

He recognizes the spell immediately, although it’s not in his area of expertise or even interest, he’s read enough magic compendiums to recognize it. It's thanks to his professionalism and iron will that he still manages to finish his own incantation that banishes the witch they’re confronting.

It’s only when the fight’s over and he sees Charles, safe and sound, run up to check on Crystal, that he lets himself succumb to the sudden energy drain and fall to his knees. A wave of heat shoots through his entire body like a volcanic eruption and he can already feel a headache forming at the base of his skull. It’s been so long since he’s had a headache, but he definitely doesn’t miss the feeling.

“Edwin!”

Without even looking up, Edwin knows that Charles is hurrying to his side, probably alarmed by his uncharacteristic fall. Edwin feels a sharp tug in his gut, a call provoked by the sound of Charles’ voice that demands to be answered. Still kneeling, Edwin gives himself the duration of one long breath to calm down, before he swallows down all the discomfort and looks up.

“I am fine, Charles. It was only a brief lapse in my energy sources after a complicated spell. Is Crystal alright?”

Charles’ eyes roam his body, checking for injuries, and Edwin suppresses the shiver that threatens to wrack through him.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Charles still has a small frown when his eyes settle on Edwin’s face. “Are you sure you’re good?”

“Of course.” Edwin doesn’t know how he’s going to undo the spell before its power consumes his every action and thought just yet, but he’s certain the answer lies in one of his books, so he’s not too worried. He’s more concerned about ensuring that Charles doesn’t find out about what’s hit him. He just has to fix it quickly enough for it not to become a noticeable problem and he’s quite confident in his abilities to mask any pain or suffering he’s feeling. It’s what kept him intact for long enough to be able to escape Hell after seventy-three years. “Shall we grab the artifact we are looking for and return to the office?”

***

A whole week passes before Edwin’s thoughts return to the possibility of bad luck being real after all, when Charles finally corners him.

“Mate, I know you said you’re aces but I can clearly see you’re not, so out with it. What’s wrong?”

How is Edwin supposed to tell Charles that even though he’s sworn not to imagine his friend in any sexual acts he’d like to engage with him, because it felt disrespectful since Charles doesn’t return his feelings, that the curse managed to break through his resolve?

How can Edwin tell him that his every waking thought is now overlaid with visions of Charles’ naked skin, his lips red and parted, his hands grabbing and pulling and caressing? How is he to admit that the heat has not only overtaken his mind but also his body which now aches, all the time. It yearns and it screams for contact, for closeness of another person and hurts even more since Edwin has started to avoid all touches from Charles a few days ago. Even a casual hand on his shoulder made Edwin almost gasp, so he started dodging and running away from whatever physical affection Charles wanted to offer, humiliated by his body’s reaction to it.

Charles must have noticed the new distance Edwin put between them, even though it probably didn’t feel like a physical ache to him like it did for Edwin. And if not that, he’s probably noticed how any time Edwin doesn’t focus on controlling his breathing, he starts to pant. Or how although it’s supposed to be impossible, when he touches the back of his neck he often finds it wet with a sheer layer of sweat. He doesn’t even want to think about what his expression must be doing in the instances when he momentarily loses himself in unwanted lustful thoughts.

“Nothing is amiss, Charles. Do not worry about it.” He tries to make his voice sound steady but knows he’s failed. Just like he’s done countless times in the past week, he avoids Charles’ gaze and pretends to focus on the stack of papers on the desk in front of him, though he couldn’t really tell what any of them said.

“That’s bollocks and you know it!” It seems that Charles will not be placated this time. “You’ve been acting odd for days now, of course I’m worried about you!”

It’s so sweet of Charles to worry about him. He’s always been so caring. Edwin knows Charles would take such good care of him. Make him fall apart first, before following him over that sweet precipice.

“Edwin.”

And when once would turn out not to be enough, he’d come close again. Kiss Edwin gently at first and then not gently at all when Edwin’s finally able to rake his hands through Charles’ hair and–

“Edwin!”

Following that beautiful voice, Edwin snaps his head up and knows it’s a mistake when he notices Charles’ shocked expression at what he must see painted on Edwin’s face.

“See? This is what I mean. Your pupils are huge! In general you look like you have a fever.” Charles lifts his hand up and moves it in the direction of Edwin’s forehead. “But ghosts can’t get fevers or fall ill or–”

Before his hand can make contact, Edwin shakes off his daze and flinches away, more violently than he’s intended, but he can’t let Charles touch him. Not now, after going so long without it, not when he’s still not fully in control of himself.

“Edwin.” There’s hurt in Charles’ voice and Edwin can’t stand it. “Please. You have to tell me what’s going on. I can fucking see that something is wrong. You can’t go on like this, mate. Please let me help.”

Edwin thought he was going to figure it out by now, but all the books he’s got his hands on, and there were many of them as he didn’t cut any corners in his desperation, said one thing and one thing only - there’s no way to break the curse. The only way to get rid of it is to give it what it wants.

And the only thing it wants, the only thing Edwin wants, is standing right in front of him, begging for Edwin to let him help. But Edwin would do anything, take every pain in the world rather than risk losing Charles, so he can’t burden him with this, can’t ever accept his offer.

However, it’s clear that Charles won’t stand down before Edwin confines in him.

So Edwin swallows his pride and clings to the remnants of his composure before he makes himself speak.

“During last week’s case, the one with the witch, right before I banished her, one of her spells managed to reach me.”

“What?! And you’re only telling me about this now? What the bloody hell, mate?! What were you thinking?” Charles comes even closer and frantically flits his eyes over Edwin’s form searching for any visible symptoms of the curse, and if he doesn’t stop he’s going to find all of them and regret it.

Edwin’s breathing becomes labored again and although he knows the heat he feels won’t be alleviated by it, his subconscious gets rid of his bowtie and opens up the very top buttons of his shirt in a single blink. He rarely ever wears his jacket or the blazer these days, but for appearance’s sake, he’s made himself keep the rest of his usual attire, however since the cat’s about to be out of the bag any second now, he might as well stop fighting with his body’s need to shed at least a few layers. Edwin can feel Charles’ eyes land on his bare throat and he burns. He wants Charles to replace his gaze with his lips and use them to follow the tendons in Edwin’s trembling neck. He craves it like nothing he’s ever wanted before.

“What’s the spell? Does it make you sick?” Charles presses and steps closer, his hands hovering, but mercifully, terribly, not touching Edwin.

“It does make me ill, but not in the way you would suspect. I did not share the information with you because I assumed I would be able to rid myself of it by now, however, as you can unfortunately observe, I was unsuccessful in that endeavor. I assure you I will–”

“Edwin. What spell was it?” Edwin feels utterly pathetic when Charles’ stern voice makes him want to unbutton a few more of those pesky shirt buttons. He sees Charles raise his eyebrows, but before he can open his mouth to ask again, Edwin gives up.

“It was a form of amatam libidinem aut mortem.” Edwin closes his eyes as another painful heat wave hits him. “A lust spell.”

Charles stills. Freezes completely for a few seconds, as he undoubtedly recalls all of the oddities Edwin’s displayed in the past week and finally sees them in the right context. Does he know now that when Edwin kept staring at him yesterday it was because he wanted to pull Charles onto the desk, press his face into the hard wood and dip his pale fingers into his body? Will he figure out now that Edwin dreams about rucking his white singlet up until Edwin’s able to put his mouth on Charles’ nipples and make him come without taking off his trousers?

“Alright,” Charles says, calmer than Edwin would expect him to be. “How do we get rid of it?”

Normally the use of ‘we’ when it comes to solving a problem only one of them has would be comforting and endearing, as it always is, but this time it just makes a pit open up right where Edwin aches the most. There will be no ‘we’ in fixing this problem and Edwin will try his hardest to make sure of that.

“There is a chance it will simply dissipate with time.” A very miniscule chance. “Or that I will find some counterspell to cure it with. I have already been researching it so the answer is about to turn up any moment now, I am sure. I did not and still do not wish to burden you with this problem of mine, so I would appreciate it if we did not speak of it anymore.”

“There is no ‘problem of yours’ that isn’t also a problem of mine, mate, is there? We’re in this together, just like with everything else we’ve been through, alright?” Edwin’s quite surprised Charles hasn’t made a single joke about the frankly ridiculous situation. He truly must be uncomfortable. “I’ll help you research.”

“That will not be nece–”

“Edwin.” Again. His name said like that is too dangerous for Edwin’s current state. The warmest part of him becomes warmer, hot enough to vaporize water and melt rocks, hot enough to make itself known through Edwin’s eyes alone and he mustn’t ever let Charles see this part of him. “That’s not up for discussion. I’m helping you, whether you like it or not. I know this kind of curse is kinda embarrassing, but you don’t have to feel ashamed, yeah? It clearly hurts you, so of course I’m going to help.”

Charles would surely change his mind if only he could truly contextualize Edwin’s shame. Place it not next to a mere heated gaze or an aborted thought, but in between visions of dropping to his knees before Charles and crying at the first sensation of Charles rocking into him.

“Thank you, Charles.”

“No problem, mate.” Charles looks at him with an unreadable expression for a moment. “And if our research fails, I could–”

“I am positive it will not fail.” There’s no way Edwin would be able to handle whatever Charles was about to say. Doesn’t matter that he’s not positive about anything about this at all. “Every spell must have a counterspell, all we need to do is find the correct one.” It’s not true. It’s not true at all, there’s no guarantee that there’s a counterspell, but he has to believe that there is. Any other option is unthinkable.

Deeming that no more words are needed, Edwin hands Charles one of the books around him and they begin to read.

***

It only gets worse after that.

They don’t find anything, because Edwin’s already gone through every possible book and all of them say the one thing Edwin doesn’t want them to say - that to get rid of the pain, he has to have sex with someone.

How easy it would be, if he was literally anyone else. But alas, the witch might not have known what she was doing, but with a simple and honestly stupid spell, she has doomed him.

True to his word, Charles helps him and doesn’t even tell Crystal about it, just makes up some sort of excuse as to why they have to close the agency for a few days. Edwin’s thankful to be spared the embarrassment of telling yet another person about his predicament. It’s humiliating enough to sit in the same room as Charles and not be able to stop squirming in his seat. It’s a new development, even though he thought the fever symptoms, pain and unruly thoughts were the worst of it, turns out they were very much not.

Now, one word from Charles, one look is enough to plunge Edwin into a vortex devoid of all other sounds and sights other than the boy in front of him. The change comes so swiftly. One second he’s wiping off sweat from his forehead and sneaking a glance at his friend’s profile and the next he’s under Charles, on the floor, taken by heat that promises the end of all pain. One breathless blink and he’s above him, on the couch, kissing a path down Charles’ neck which strains under Edwin’s teeth.

He’s weak, he can’t focus, he has to excuse himself into a desolate room on the other side of the globe every few hours to jerk off and there’s no hiding it from Charles. The other boy knows exactly what Edwin is doing when he hops through a mirror while trying not to direct attention to the very obvious tenting in his trousers.

Worst thing is that it gets Edwin even hotter. He likes that Charles knows, burns with the humiliation of it, can’t stop imagining that one of those times Charles follows him through the mirror and just takes him. In Edwin’s dreams, Charles would kneel in front of Edwin and tease him open with his tongue before making Edwin climb in his lap. He’d come through the mirror after already preparing himself for Edwin, open and wanting, ready for Edwin to sink into him right where they stand. Or he’d finger Edwin roughly and take him from behind while moaning about how good it feels to be inside him.

But of course he never does, Charles wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t want Edwin like that. And Edwin won’t ask him for help. He can’t. He’d rather lose his mind or disintegrate, two possibilities that seem more and more likely to be his end with every day that passes without them finding a cure.

And with every one of those days, Charles looks more worried, and what’s even worse, more afraid. He hovers when he thinks Edwin can’t see it, but smartly never touches Edwin, and during his lowest moments, Edwin hates it.

He wants to be touched, caressed, gripped, handled with love so deep it’s forceful with impatience to claim and still perfectly evident even the day after.

Would Charles still want to help him research if he knew that Edwin’s eyes roll back into his skull at the thought of sliding into Charles and staying there for as long as possible even after they’re both messy and spent? That he wants to moan out loud just thinking about being pressed against their window and fucked there until his legs give out?

He’s been looking at the same page with unseeing eyes for a few minutes now, lost in fantasies. One of his favorites, of Charles kneeling under the desk in front of him, sucking on his cock as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, starts to unravel under his eyelids when a painful squeeze of his insides shakes him out of it. Instantly, his body is lead heavy and every limb feels like it’s been dipped in hellfire itself.

Stubbornly, he stands from his chair to go grab another book, when he’s bowed over by the most severe way of pain yet. Edwin’s knees buckle and fail him, and like a prey meeting the end of its life, he gracelessly falls to the floor with a whimper of an injured animal.

“Edwin!” Charles shoots up from his reading place on the sofa and is at Edwin’s side in a blink of an eye. He makes the mistake of laying a hand on Edwin’s back. Edwin’s too blinded by pain to be fully embarrassed by the whine he lets out at the contact. “I’m sorry! God, Edwin. This is bad, there’s nothing in those fucking books!”

“No.” Edwin confirms through gritted teeth. “The only way to stop its effects is to give into it. There’s no other cure.”

“You knew– fuck, doesn’t matter. Okay. So we have to– we have to, let me–”

“Get me the mirror, Charles.” The flare up seems to have subsided and Edwin uses the brief respite to come to a decision. A long time ago he made a promise to himself that he would not let the fire take him and he intends to keep it. This will not be how he perishes.

“What?” Charles looks at him like he’s finally lost his mind. “The mirror?”

“There is no other solution. Therefore, I require the mirror in order to travel to Port Townsend.” Edwin slowly rises to his feet but Charles is still frozen, kneeling on the floor next to him. The void calls for Edwin again, teases him with his own desires, disgusts him with phantoms of red hands reaching for him. He turns around and starts to slowly make his way towards the mirror on his own.

“The Cat King?!” Finally, seeing Edwin’s retreating back makes Charles jump into action with a shout. “Edwin! You can’t be serious. He–”

“I do not have any other option, Charles.”

“You do! Mate, please, I–”

“No, I do not,” he says while placing a hand on the desk to support his shaking body on its way. “No matter, I will be back in a tick.”

“I’m coming with you. Of course I am. Don’t even try to argue.” Charles adds when Edwin turns his head around to do just that, but he closes his mouth and takes a few more unsteady steps, not willing to waste any more time and wanting to just get this whole thing over with.

“You’d better hurry along, then.” The surface of the mirror ripples under Edwin’s fingers as he concentrates on finding the dingy warehouse that the Cat King calls home and he falls more than jumps through it when he finds his destination.

The place looks about the same as he’s last seen it, but he doesn’t have time to complain about the industrial decor. The quiet static of an activated mirror reaches his ears before he manages to move, making Charles almost bump into him.

“Wait! Edwin, really think about it, yeah? The Cat King is not–”

“What am I not, oh wise guard dog? Do enlighten me.” The Cat King appears before them in a purple flash. “Hi, Edwin. I missed seeing your pretty face.”

“Kindly take me to your bedroom.” Edwin would feel proud at finally having shocking the Cat King, as it is clear from his wide eyes that his request actually stunned him, if not for the choking sound that comes from behind him. He ignores it. He can’t look at Charles right now.

“Oh my, what a surprising, yet welcome development.” The Cat King says when he recovers a second later. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I will tell you everything once we get there.” Edwin knows he’s panting, his skin probably blooming in red splotches, but against all odds, he hopes the Cat King will listen to his plea and not question his state.

“Mate–”

“Now, now, don’t take it as me being unhappy about you wanting to revisit my kingdom,” the Cat King speaks over Charles as if he wasn’t there and although Edwin hates anyone disrespecting his best friend, at this moment he’s grateful that the Cat King doesn’t listen to Charles’ protests. “But I need to know as to why–”

“Please.”

Apparently there’s enough raw desperation in his voice to convince the Cat King because he only raises an eyebrow at Edwin, which almost makes him look concerned, and snaps his fingers to transport them to his den, leaving Charles alone in the warehouse.

Chapter Text

After only a few short minutes, lit by another purple flame, Edwin appears back in the warehouse.

He finds Charles sitting on one of the wooden crates laying around, with his head in his hands, but he lifts it as soon as he hears the sound of the magical fire.

“Edwin,” Charles gasps, his voice choked up, and are his eyes bloodshot? Edwin doesn’t really have the bandwidth to examine his friend right now, he just needs to get out of here as soon as possible. “Did you– are you okay now?” Charles wipes at his face and moves to Edwin’s side to follow him outside. “Did he hurt you? Did it work?”

“He was not able to help me,” Edwin spits out bitterly. “I am neither better nor worse than I had been before coming here. This whole trip was a waste of time, so let us leave quickly.”

“He wasn’t? Why–?”

“Oh, Edwin!” Edwin quietly curses under his breath. They were so close to getting out without any interference. He reluctantly stops and turns around, and sees Charles do the same next to him, his hand already grabbing for his cricket bat.

“If you come to me with the same offer on any other day, I will gladly accept, you know?” The Cat King continues. “But seeing as the spell requires the services of someone you love,” Edwin’s eyes widen in alarm. Without any concern for his dignity, he grabs Charles’ wrist and beelines for the exit as quickly as he can in his weakened state, “it wouldn’t have worked.”

Uncharacteristically, Charles stops following Edwin, which in turn stops Edwin because he’s not going to leave without the other ghost.

“What?”

But the Cat King ignores Charles again, eyes boring into the back of Edwin’s skull, who stubbornly refuses to face him.

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

With a harsh tug that depletes most of his current strength, Edwin drags Charles forward, making him finally move towards the mirror again.

“Or was your little proposition a convoluted way of confessing your love? Because if that’s the case–” Edwin doesn’t hear the rest of what mockery the Cat King has to say because he marches through the mirror, pulling a suspiciously silent Charles behind him.

Frustration and humiliation were pushing him forward, but now that they’re back in the office, Edwin’s exhaustion catches up to him so he lets go of Charles, although it pains him to do so, and sits heavily on the couch. He closes his eyes to center himself, and maybe also to avoid seeing whatever expression Charles must be making. He’s learned the truth now, something that Edwin knew all along and something that he never wished for Charles to discover.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charles’ words are quiet, the way they usually are when he tries to stifle his anger.

“I did not want you to know.”

“What the fuck, mate?! You could have just asked me a week ago–”

“I would never ask that of you!” His eyes snap open. It would be the worst thing he could do to Charles. Use him, take pleasure that’s given only because of a sense of obligation and then have to go on knowing that Charles was gritting his teeth and bearing it all? Knowing that everything he’s ever wanted had to be coped with and endured? “It was never an option for me.”

“So what,” a humorless laugh escapes Charles’ downturned mouth, “you’d rather go mad with pain or cease to exist, or whatever else, than just fuck me?”

The previously overwhelming avalanche of thoughts stops in a single second, and lava fills all the spaces where memories of snow might have laid. There’s ringing in Edwin’s ears.

There are so many things wrong with what Charles has just said that Edwin doesn’t even know what to address first. So he chooses not to do it at all.

“Do not be ridiculous, Charles! How could I ever ask you for something like this?”

“You don’t even have to ask, mate, I’m offering!” Charles gestures wildly, exasperated, hands flying so fast it’s hard to track them with the pleasant but unwanted molasses coating Edwin’s brain. “I tried to offer it multiple times this week but you didn’t want to hear it.”

“No. Charles, I still do not. I would never choose your suffering over mine, that is out of the question. I won’t do it.”

“So you think that watching you die again or even seeing you endlessly in pain doesn’t cause me suffering?” There’s fire in Charles’ eyes and it’s a herculean effort to remember that it’s not a reflection of the same flame that licks at Edwin’s skin from the inside. “I’d do anything for you, Edwin. I’d do so much out of the pure selfishness of wanting to keep you, because nothing in the world would be worse for me than losing you. I walked into Hell for you, how do you not get that?”

Edwin looks at him, broken down, frayed at the seams and cracked open before him.

“And having sex with you wouldn’t even make the list of things that count as suffering to me. You really believe I’d think of it like that?” Even in the midst of it all, Charles’ smile is a balm for Edwin’s heart.

He knows that Charles won’t let it go since it’d mean potentially watching Edwin disintegrate, and he has enough trust in Charles’ friendly love for him to know the other boy would never willingly let that happen. Even if it means going through something he’d never do otherwise.

Charles has asked him if Edwin would rather risk his existence than lay with him, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Frankly, Edwin would die again just for the chance to have him. But not like this.

Setting his heartbreak aside, Edwin takes a deep breath, as wavering as it is, and tries to focus. They can do it, can get through it, he just needs a plan to do it in a way that will spare Charles as much discomfort as possible.

“Alright.” He sees Charles sag in relief and it’s all so wrong. “Thank you, Charles. I am truly grateful you are willing to go this far for me, even though I sometimes wish you would not.”

“Not an option, mate.” Charles smiles again and looks around the room appraisingly. “So… the couch?”

The blush that Edwin feels in his cheeks is unquestionably visible, but it’s possible that it just blends in his now-permanent state of flush, so maybe it’s not too damning, he tells himself. He shakes his head to clear it and to resist all the lewd thoughts brought on by the spell for a little bit longer.

“Most likely. However, if we are to… do this, I have some conditions that I want to set in place.”

Although surprised, Charles quickly schools his features back into neutrality and stands up straighter, as if to show Edwin that he’s listening and taking it seriously.

“‘Course. What are they?”

“First of all - you are to leave me to perform all the obligatory steps. You do not need to touch me more than it is absolutely necessary.”

There’s a clear conflict within Charles, his frown making it apparent, but although the expression doesn’t change, he nods slowly.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“It is, thank you.” Edwin hesitates before voicing his second condition, but he thinks of the aftermath of their arrangement without it and squirms with mortification. “And second of all - I would like for you to wear a blindfold during it.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot high up on his forehead and although he hasn’t moved from his spot, he looks like he’s just lost his footing.

“A– a blindfold? Why?”

“Unfortunately, you have already seen the humiliating state I have been in for the past couple of days, but I would not like to add to it. It is hard to control my expression while the haze overtakes me and I would still like to keep our friendship intact afterwards, but I am afraid I may find it challenging to act normally around you, were you to see me during the– the act.”

And that way Charles will be able to imagine someone else in Edwin’s stead to be able to… perform and maybe even enjoy it. It’s a sour thought, one that Edwin would rather not think about, so he doesn’t voice it, but hopes that his friend sees the opportunity for what it is.

Normally, it’d be fascinating for Edwin to try to parse through all the emotions Charles’ face goes through in quick succession, but he already feels himself slipping under again, the process sped up by the prospect of being so close to giving the curse what it wants. All that Edwin is able to think about is how handsome Charles looks right now.

“Right.” After an awkward pause, Charles grabs for his backpack, but Edwin can see how his ease from earlier has disappeared.

“If you are not certain–”

“I am,” Charles states quickly, although his voice is still somewhat strained, but Edwin has to trust in Charles, just like he has for thirty years now.

“Brills,” Edwin mutters, feeling unbearably hot again, and when Charles’ turns to him with a beginning of a crooked smile on his face, Edwin offers him a tiny smile in return and pats the spot on the couch next to him.

Charles obediently follows, and Edwin can almost swear he hears him murmur something that sounds suspiciously like ‘cute’, but then most of his thoughts evaporate from his mind when Charles sits very close and puts a small, plastic bottle between them.

“That’s lube.” Charles clears his throat. “It’s for–”

“I know.”

“You do?” And Edwin can’t even blush anymore, too focused on the other item that Charles pulls out of his backpack. An elegant, red scarf. Barely holding onto coherent thought, Edwin reaches for the long piece of silk.

“May I?”

“Yeah.” Charles’ eyes are so intense and so dark, fastened onto Edwin’s face till the very last possible second, and Edwin feels equal parts regret and relief when they disappear underneath the shiny, red material.

With a light touch, Edwin guides Charles to sit back against the backrest of the sofa and tries really hard not to ogle his friend, not to take more than what’s so graciously given to him.

He looks to Charles’ lap. Right.

Edwin briefly wonders if he should ask Charles to undress himself, but he concludes that a total state of undress is not essential for the activity, so Edwin only allows himself a single hand to land onto Charles’ stomach to tug his polo and singlet out from the band of his trousers.

Underneath his touch, the polo disappears. Unsure whether Charles meant for that to happen and unwilling to speak, lest it disturb the illusion of someone else doing it to Charles, Edwin doesn’t mention it.

A reminder that he doesn’t have to breathe plays over and over in his head in order to stifle his heavy panting. The less noise he makes, the better.

Adhering to Edwin’s request, Charles keeps his hands resting limply on the couch, but Edwin can see them twitch and play the material beneath them every time Edwin’s hand makes contact with his body. It makes him want to apologize for each of those instances, but he hopes that gentling his touch and keeping it to the absolute minimum will be a sufficient apology instead.

Not being able to hold back the heat and need roaming through him any longer, Edwin slides off the couch to settle in between Charles’ legs.

Edwin’s mind never clears, but relief seeps into him from everywhere he touches Charles, the everpresent ache dissipates. Edwin wants to cover Charles’ body with his own, wants to press them as close as possible and finally feel something other than the fever that’s been plaguing him.

“Edwin?” Charles calls and his legs move, closing and opening, as if trying to map how Edwin fits between them. Wanting to soothe the anxious thread in Charles’ voice, Edwin lifts a hand to stroke lightly over Charles’ cheek and his stomach flutters when Charles immediately nuzzles into his palm.

Swallowing back the monumental wave of affection that floods him, Edwin takes the hand back and settles it on Charles’ knee before moving it upwards, to signal his intentions.

Before Edwin can reach his target, Charles calls for him again, more frantic than before.

“Edwin?”

“I’m sorry, Charles, let us stop, you are clearly uncomfortable–”

“No! No. I just– Can you talk to me? I don’t know if you’re trying to keep quiet on purpose, but please talk to me.”

“Oh Charles, of course.” Edwin realizes his other hand has been absentmindedly placed on Charles’ ankle, his thumb rubbing small circles into it. He makes himself stop. Quietly, and trying not to let any emotions slip through into his question, he asks, “But will it not be easier to pretend I am someone else if I do not speak?”

“I’m not. Pretending.” Charles sits up, almost startling Edwin into jumping back, but then makes himself relax against the backrest again, although his hands keep clenching and unclenching. “I wouldn’t do that. I can’t, really.”

“Oh.” The one thing Edwin’s thought of to make it easier for Charles has failed him. Feeling of inadequacy creeps in. No matter how much he wants to make it good for his friend, he’s not sure he’ll be able to.

“I don’t want to either,” Charles adds, and Edwin really doesn’t understand him at all. “So please, just, talk to me. And make all the noise you want to as well, yeah?”

“As you wish.” Shaken, Edwin places his hand back on the inside of Charles’ knee. “I am going to touch you now, if that is alright?”

“Wait!” Edwin immediately stills again, heart in his throat. “Can you also, um, touch me some more before we get to… that? Only if you want to, of course. But just, you can touch me. Wherever you want to. Or– or kiss me. To start us off with, you know?”

“Of course I want to touch you, Charles. However, you should not give that generous of permission to someone like me, especially right now.”

“It’s because it’s you that I can give you that permission.”

There’s no more space or capability for thoughts in Edwin’s head anymore.

He rises on his knees, pulled by the invisible strings of fate that bound them together in 1989, and kisses Charles. The first press of their mouths together punches a gasp out of him. The blissful relief from the curse, although great, can’t even compare to the ecstasy of kissing the boy he loves. Edwin’s world becomes the slide of their mouths and nothing else and when Charles kisses him back, he comes to and realizes he’s somehow climbed on top of the other boy. Right off the bat the kiss is intense, eager. They collide in a frenzy, but Charles catches him, just like Edwin knew he would.

One of Edwin’s hands settle on the back of Charles’ neck, while the other makes a path from Charles’ shaky leg to his curiously heaving chest.

Charles has told him to make noise and he’s glad for it, as he finds himself unable to hold back any of the sounds spilling from him, because kissing Charles is simply the best thing he’s ever felt.

There’s a thought rattling in Edwin’s head that he’s going too fast, too hard, but Charles matches each of his desperate movements, rising up to hold Edwin and kiss all his needy noises straight from his lips. Very quickly a tongue licks along Edwin’s bottom lip and Edwin wouldn’t even dream of not responding to Charles’ invitation, and then it’s even better, even more.

The unpleasant squirming in his stomach settles, but in his current state, Edwin can only spare half a thought to the fact that it’s caused by Charles clasping his hands on Edwin’s waist. He’s also only marginally aware that his gray blazer and vest disappear and that he’s essentially writhing on Charles’ lap, touching and groping wherever his unsatiated hands land on.

He’s drunk, high, dreaming. He’s in a haze and can’t control what he says when he detaches from Charles’ addicting lips and moves to the edge of that sharp jaw.

“I’ve never tasted anything as exquisite as you.” It’s the truest thing he’s said all night, so it deserves to be spoken right under Charles’ blushing ear. The shiver he can feel go through Charles at his words only makes Edwin want to bite. All brakes are off and the only things left are Edwin and his need. “And I wish to taste you in other places as well. May I?”

“Bloody hell,” Charles’ hips buck wildly, jostling Edwin who doesn’t really know what he did to deserve being in Charles’ lap in the first place. “Yeah, do it. Go on.”

Edwin slides his lips down Charles’ neck, lapping at the skin there, and opens his eyes the exact moment the singlet disappears. Taking it as a literal manifestation of Charles’ encouragement, Edwin moves in between Charles’ legs again, while kissing a path down the other’s ghost chest.

Clearly affected, Charles’ legs make aborted little movements as if wanting to close, before their owner catches himself and makes them relax on purpose. Well, Edwin can certainly aid with that.

Choosing the moment right before taking Charles’ right nipple in his mouth, Edwin plants his hands on the inside of the boy’s thighs and unceremoniously spreads them open with a single push.

“Ah!” The absolutely beautiful moan it earns him makes Edwin’s eyes roll back in his skull. He keeps holding Charles open to make space for himself as he descends lower and lower, until he’s leaving kisses on Charles’ navel. When he ventures to take the skin there in between his teeth, a trembling hand lands on his head. It doesn’t push him off, only cards through his now disheveled hair.

Even though Edwin’s eyes are closed, as he sinks deeper into the feeling of Charles losing control under him, he can feel when suddenly the fabric beneath his palms evaporates and becomes heated skin.

A quick glance down turns into a lingering stare when he finds Charles’ underwear out on display, no longer hidden by his trousers, as well as a very noticeable bulge in them.

“Charles–” His voice has never sounded so rough before. “Charles, may I?”

“Yes.” What can only be described as a whine answers him, as well as another hand finding purchase on Edwin’s nape, not directing him, just holding on.

The original plan was to use his mouth to bring Charles to hardness, but even though it’s not required anymore, Edwin still pulls the straining material down and lowers his mouth onto Charles’ cock.

“Edwin!” If the feeling is half as incredible as it is for Edwin, then he’s glad he can give Charles this experience. Charles is so hot and hard in his mouth, but still tampers the destructive fire inside Edwin into a pleasantly warm buzz which he could get lost in for a long time.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” Charles’ moans are threadbear thin and the loveliest music to Edwin’s ears. He hollows his cheeks, laps messily at the head, and plays Charles like an instrument.

The heat within him subsides further as more divine gasps and groans ring above his head, encouraging him further, making him open his mouth wider and–

A brief moment of clarity sneaks into his lust-addled brain. The heat, the fever, the curse.

Admonishing himself for forgetting the reason why they’re doing this in the first place, he grasps onto his momentarily lucidity and blinks away the rest of his own clothing while popping open the bottle of lube.

He’s never done it before, so he’s quite unsure when he reaches behind himself, but the fever demands action, fuels him, spurs him on. His fingers, now coated in the transparent gel, pass over his rim as he continues to bob his head and lavish Charles’ cock with loving attention. A spark comes to life in his stomach at the feeling, so he repeats the motion, before his body screams for a breach. Impatient, Edwin pushes a single finger into himself.

It’s not a good feeling, but not a bad one either, mostly just foreign, so he ignores it, choosing to focus on Charles instead.

Edwin’s a bit surprised at how much Charles seems to be enjoying himself, but he’s immensely grateful for it, making it as good as possible for him is everything that Edwin’s hoped to achieve.

It’s a shame Edwin can’t see the other ghost’s expressive eyes at that moment. Would Charles be frowning and keeping his eyes closed to keep his cool for longer? Or would he be intently following each of Edwin’s movements, trying to memorize every detail of how Edwin looks with his cock in his mouth?

A bit of drool escapes Edwin's mouth at the thought. He’s drowning in the constant chorus of affected breaths and occasional moans from above him, each one making him burn hotter but also soothing the worst of the pain inside him.

The two hands still holding his head move every so often and sometimes even pull lightly at his hair, as if trying to make Edwin lose his focus.

Everything’s been so good so far, that when he hastily pushes the second finger into himself, he doesn’t expect the dull stab of pain that meets him.

He doesn’t mean to, but he makes a pained noise before he’s able to choke it down, and he can only hope that Charles hasn’t heard it and–

“Edwin? What’s wrong?” Even though Charles’ hands have been nothing but gentle, they withdraw from Edwin’s hair as if they could have been guilty of causing any harm. “Did I hurt you?”

With a slick pop, Edwin removes his mouth from Charles, but doesn’t move far.

“No. I have simply wanted to move us along, but have overestimated my ability to multitask in these conditions.”

“Multi–” Edwin stares at Charles’ gaping mouth and almost gets sidetracked by visions of biting the reddened lips before Charles speaks again. “Edwin.”

“Do not mind it. I will just–”

“I’ll do it.” Charles speaks so quickly that Edwin almost has trouble understanding him. “Can I? Please?”

Although Charles can’t see him, Edwin raises a dubious eyebrow at him. Perhaps something has been lost in the unfinished sentences between them.

“You wish to do what?”

“I want to finger you.”

A wave crashes over Edwin’s consciousness, threatens to pull him under the water, make his head swim in an ocean of mindless lust.

“I have told you to leave all the work to me. You do not have to.”

“I want to. Want to fuck you with my fingers. Please let me.”

Edwin’s head meets the water and he’s thrown into the darkest depths, only to be spat out at the shore, perched on top of Charles’ thighs once more, but this time with bare skin scorching bare skin.

Somehow, the small bottle of lube is passed between them and Edwin shuts his eyes when the click of the opened cap disturbs the tense silence around them.

Charles reaches for Edwin blindly. The hand that rests on his thigh and moves higher shocks him less than the one first settling on Edwin’s collarbone and then moving up until it finds his cheek.

“Come here.” The whisper is so sweet, Edwin falls into another kiss with no resistance.

He wouldn’t even be able to describe how it feels to have Charles’ finger enter his body. It’s entirely different from before. Edwin parts for Charles like a sea before a prophet, worshipful and pious, with his name proudly taken in vain.

“Charles!”

“Yeah?” Charles presses the finger in deeper, rubbing at his walls, and waiting until the muscles around it are sufficiently relaxed before adding another one. Each movement of those beautiful digits shocks Edwin into tremors. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Anchored with his arms around Charles’ neck, Edwin plasters himself to Charles’ chest and clings to him. His hips chase Charles’ fingers, just like his lips chase Charles’ taste. They both keep moaning into each other’s mouths, making their kisses artless and perfect.

Feeling Charles move inside him is divine. Charles’ fingers are a thing of beauty, long, bony and so incredibly skillful and now that Edwin’s got to experience how it is to be full of them, he never wants this night to end.

“Feels good?” And Edwin should be the one asking Charles that, but he can’t, not when Charles adds a third finger and leaves a smattering of kisses on Edwin’s jaw when Edwin can’t make his mouth move properly because it refuses to close and stop letting a plethora of embarrassing sounds fall from it.

“Charles,” he chants, voice breaking. “Charles.”

“Yeah?” Charles asks while nuzzling the side of Edwin’s neck.

“More.”

Charles’ hand speeds up, his fingers rubbing harder on every other stroke, which makes Edwin throw his head back and gasp, because it’s so good, but it’s not what Edwin wants, not what he needs.

“Cha-Charles.” Edwin manages to say breathlessly. “The curse.”

“Hm?” Charles seems to be lost in exploring Edwin’s neck and turning his brain into mush with the movement of his hand.

“The curse,” Edwin repeats and grasps onto Charles’ wrist with great effort. “T–this has been quite… enough, we ought to p–proceed.”

“In a second.” Charles says and continues to mouth and nip at Edwin’s heated skin, while trying to ruin him with the way he scissors his fingers. ‘“You feel so good.”

Edwin uses the last shred of control he has, to rise on his shaky knees, effectively dislodging Charles who makes a wounded sound at the loss and scrambles to slip his fingers into Edwin’s body again, but Edwin keeps his hold on Charles’ wrist firm.

“Charles!” He reprimands and sees Charles’ mouth snap shut. Not for the first time that night, Edwin wishes he could see Charles’ eyes to be able to read his expression better. It’s hard to tell what Charles is thinking right now, but he’s stopped moving, essentially going limp under Edwin, so Edwin uses the opportunity to get them back on track with the initial arrangement.

He pries Charles’ hands away from Edwin’s body and sets them back on the couch’s cushions where they were supposed to be. He most likely doesn’t have much time before he gets swept away yet again, so not wanting to postpone it any longer, he takes a hold of Charles’ cock, deeming it slick enough, and shifts on his knees to hover right above it.

“Wait!” Charles’ sounds like the word was punched out of him and that’s just how Edwin feels when insistent hands return to his waist, holding him in place so he can’t go any further.

Dread seeps through Edwin. Fear brings lucidity in its wake, temporarily quieting the fever down to a manageable sizzle.

“Shall we stop? Are you–”

“No.” Charles’ thumbs start rubbing maddening circles on Edwin’s hip bones. “God no. But I– Can you take the blindfold off?”

Edwin gapes at the boy below him.

“Charles. I– I have told you that this unfortunate ordeal is mortifying enough for me, even without your eyes on me. All the… sounds, of a frankly animalistic nature, are not something I am proud of.”

“It’s not embarrassing though.” Charles’ hands lower Edwin to sit on his thighs, skillfully avoiding accidentally aligning their cocks together. “You sound hot.”

“I– what?”

“It’s hot, innit? To hear you enjoy what I’m doing to you. To make you let go like that. And it’d be the same with seeing what you look like.”

When Edwin is too speechless to respond, Charles goes on.

“And I’m the same, yeah? We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“We are very much not the same here.”

Edwin thinks Charles might argue with him more, but he just smiles and takes Edwin’s face in his hand.

“Please? I promise I want it.”

But Edwin still squirms, can’t settle his trepidatious heart.

“Why would you wish to see… that? Your fantasy surely does not match the picture before you.”

“I want to see you. There’s no fantasy other than you, mate. I want you.”

A stuttering breath leaves Edwin’s lungs in a rush. He looks down at himself and cringes. In a small voice he asks, “what if what you see repulses you and you won’t be able to look at me the same afterwards?”

“Oi, I’d never find anything about you repulsive. And it won’t change the way I look at you.” Charles strokes a gentle finger over Edwin’s cheek and Edwin can almost sense his gaze through the red scarf. “I realized I might have already been looking at you like this for some time now.”

“What does that mean?” Edwin doesn’t dare to breathe, suspended in the moment stretching between them.

Charles wets his lips before speaking.

“I think I love you, Edwin.”

The heat returns tenfold.

Edwin rips the blindfold off.

When their eyes meet, Charles’ go even darker than complete darkness has rendered them, and Edwin’s world is on fire.

“Fuck me.”

Chapter Text

Apparently, now is the time that Charles finally decides to adhere to Edwin’s plan. He surges up and kisses Edwin, his hands going everywhere they can reach. Each claiming touch is followed by Edwin’s dreamy sighs. The floaty feeling of not being fully lucid comes back, but this time he doesn’t feel apprehension towards it. Instead, he follows the feeling deeper, where there’s only sensations and Charles, Charles, Charles.

Edwin’s glad he doesn’t have to breathe, and can indulge in the luxurious plush of Charles’ mouth all he wants. They’ve been kissing throughout the night, but not like this. With no more secrets between them and no inhibitions left, Charles is clearly intent on really proving something to him, and making Edwin unravel into a version he hasn’t shown to anyone else.

Between one moan and the next, Edwin finds himself basically tackled to the couch, and his back hits the cushions before he can orient himself.

“Sorry, mate,” Charles says with one final kiss, before he leans back to arrange their limbs how he wants them. “Really can’t wait any longer.”

“Have you perhaps caught my fever?” The anxious question leaves Edwin’s mouth before he can really think it through, but he’s too transfixed by watching Charles pour more lube onto his cock to pay any more attention to his worries, so as soon as the thought forms in his mind, it slips away.

“Nah.” Charles smiles. “You just make me feel this way.”

Edwin grunts and curses under his breath. Charles’ smirk is so handsome it almost distracts Edwin from the feeling of Charles lining himself up.

“Ready?”

Edwin can’t nod fast enough.

He feels himself yield, open and mold around Charles. The new fullness makes fireworks go off in his entire body, blinding him for a second, burying him in sparkling pleasure, as Charles buries himself in him deeper and deeper. Edwin’s loved the feeling of Charles’ fingers filling him, but this is something else entirely. It’s better. It’s a long, beautiful drag that Edwin feels in every spectral cell of his body.

They both groan at the same time and even without more words, they understand that neither of them can hold back.

Charles starts off slow, but so amazingly deep, that Edwin feels the slide go on forever each time, making his body pulse with painless relief.

“Oh my god, you’re so–” Charles speaks through gritted teeth and slowly builds up the pace.

Edwin’s eyes have fallen shut somewhere along the line, but when he opens them again, he finds Charles’ already looking at him. Another sharp bolt of pleasure runs down Edwin’s spine at the intense want in the other ghost’s eyes. It’s so much.

“Charles, come here.” Edwin reaches a hand for him, but Charles only takes it and intertwines their fingers together before bringing their joined hands to place a kiss on Edwin’s knuckles.

“But I’ve got the best view right here.”

With a whine, Edwin closes his eyes again and throws an arm over them for good measure. He’s afraid he’s going to go translucent under Charles’ scrutiny without it.

“Oi, none of that. You look hot.” Charles breaks the hold of their hands to try to lift the forearm from Edwin’s face, but Edwin only clams up tighter.

The movements of Charles’ hips stop and Edwin can’t have that, won’t survive it, so he doesn’t even think when he moves to look at Charles, a complaint ready on his lips.

But that’s just what Charles wanted. He uses the moment of Edwin’s momentary shift of priorities to grab his now unguarded wrists and pin them onto either side of Edwin’s face. It leaves Charles hovering directly above him and something in Edwin’s stomach flips.

“Charles!”

“No hiding from me anymore, alright?”

Edwin tests the hold a little, but Charles only tightens his grip, staying firm, but mercifully starts fucking him again.

He’s splayed open, unable to escape Charles’ heated gaze. The casual display of strength, but also of Charles’ desire for him, makes Edwin feel a little crazy.

The first quicker thrust has Edwin arching off the couch with an unrestrained groan. Nothing about him can be restrained anymore, not when Charles is looking at him like Edwin’s the most attractive thing he’s ever seen, while simultaneously snapping his hips in a way that makes Edwin want to scream.

Charles definitely notices how affected Edwin is by being held down like this, if the tiny squeeze to his wrists and a smug smile Charles sends him are any indication.

With Charles above him, in him, holding him down and looking at him like that, Edwin’s never stood a chance. He bites his lower lip and gives in, his hips rising to meet Charles’ movements and together they find a rhythm that knocks the very unnecessary breath out of Edwin.

“Cha– ahh!”

“Already love how you moan my name like that.” A harsh snap of hips. “You were really gonna let Whiskers do this to you?”

“I would– “ Edwin really was, although he doesn’t fully remember as to why anymore. “I’d imagine you in his stead all the while.”

“Fuck.”

Encouraged by how something wild passes over Charles’ expression at his confession, Edwin lets his loose with infatuation mouth spill more of his secrets.

“He could never– never inspire in me the feelings that you do.”

A spasm goes through Charles’ hands and makes their hold on Edwin’s wrists deliciously tighter still.

“Now, I need you to stop saying things like that, or I won’t be able to help you for much longer, will I?”

Charles’ eyes have never been this intense as they are now roaming up and down Edwin’s naked skin.

Tentatively, following the sudden need to please, Edwin unfurls, surrendering his arms completely under Charles’ grasp and spreading his legs just that much wider.

In lieu of praise, Charles lets out a low and pleased hum.

“Yeah, that’s it.” And another hum when Charles feels Edwin’s body clench down on him at the approval. “But I need my hands, don’t I? So why don’t we…”

The previously discarded red scarf finds its way into Charles’ hands and, like the softest embrace, it encircles Edwin’s wrists together above his head. The material isn’t as restrictive as its predecessors, but Edwin wouldn’t dare to move his hands anyway. With the way that Charles is looking at Edwin like his pliant body is a gift, Edwin begins to wonder if when he turns, he's going to find a bow tied around his hands.

“I like seeing you in red too, you know.” Charles bends down to give Edwin a lingering kiss before leaning back again. All that Edwin can see in Charles’ eyes is a shine so bright that Edwin’s reflection is visible in the dark pupils. The heat has disarmed Edwin, turned his thoughts syrupy and limbs loose. He might have slipped right through Charles’ fingers and become a puddle of want on the floor if it wasn’t for the single line of red fabric holding him together.

Strong hands wrap around Edwin’s middle and with the new-found purchase, Charles begins to rock in and out of him faster. He grinds into Edwin and pulls him in to meet each movement of his hips. It all makes Edwin forget he’s ever felt any pain at all. It’s so lovely to have Charles handle Edwin like he knows Edwin already belongs to him, because he does. In an effort to hold on to the blissful feeling, Edwin digs his nails into the couch beneath him.

Even through the dizziness he feels, Edwin can make out the beautiful vision that Charles makes. His skin never glistened like this before, and even if it did, Edwin was never allowed to watch him . Edwin would like to look his fill, but it’s so hard when Charles knows exactly where to aim to make Edwin whine and lose his train of thought.

All the pleasure lights Edwin up, and punches quick ah, ah, ah sounds out of him every time Charles pushes in, all the way, as deep as he can go.

There’s so much sizzling energy around them, within him, that Edwin knows it’s only a matter of time before he comes, but he wants more, wants it to last–

All of a sudden Charles takes a hold of his cock and starts stroking it with a tight fist.

“No– not yet, Charles!”

“The curse, love.” Charles says without a smidge of cheek in his voice. Instead, he looks all too focused and enamored with the sight of Edwin’s cock in his hand. “We can have more fun after it’s dealt with.”

Edwin’s brain stutters on the promise of more and after, and then it empties out of everything as white-hot pleasure overtakes him.

His muscles tense, and he can hear Charles groan at the sudden tight squeeze.

For a moment, he’s in the heart of the void, with everything quiet and peaceful, as Edwin’s mind floats, levitates somewhere where no pain can touch it, before gravity runs out and it’s plunged into molten heat once more.

A groan of frustration tumbles out of him.

“It’s not– not enough.”

Instead of defeat, determination lines the features of Charles’ handsome face and Edwin’s unbeating heart trembles in his chest.

“Guess we have to be thorough, don’t we?”

Wanting to tell Charles ‘I told you so’, but ultimately deciding against it, Edwin reaches for Charles again and this time is granted a kiss that never really helps him to calm down. When they part, Edwin works on controlling his breath enough to speak.

“Charles, please. More.”

The beautiful, brown eyes before him flash and Charles pulls back, but before Edwin can protest, he finds himself flipped onto his front and covered with another body at his back.

“I always give you what you want, don’t I?”

Charles’ cock fills him again and it somehow feels even more like this, and everything in Edwin thrills. It’s good beyond words.

Fueled by his own very evident need, Charles sets a quick pace right from the beginning this time, each of his movements making Edwin’s cock rub on the couch underneath him. The rough friction is so unexpectedly good that Edwin almost bites down on the throw pillow in front of him. He’s unsure if he ever really softened, but he’s already two seconds away from full hardness.

Without even meaning to, Edwin pulls at the red scarf uselessly, but it only tightens, racking up the mindless haze he’s in even higher. Charles isn’t necessarily rough with him, but unyielding, purposeful, intense, so much so that Edwin finds himself in need of bracing on the armrest of the couch.

“Jesus, the things you do to me.” God help him or Edwin will claw a hole in their bloody furniture.

The path that Charles’ hands map out on his back carves itself into Edwin’s brain. He wants to remember the feeling of being wanted and adored so wholly for the rest of his existence. Even though Edwin can’t see him, he can definitely feel Charles’ eyes on him like a brand.

Time escapes him, a secondary thing to the indescribable pleasure shaking his entire body. Charles fucks him with a single-minded focus and all Edwin can do is take it. His fantasies did not come even close to what Charles really makes him feel.

He’s so close to the edge again, because everything is just so good. The room around them blurs at the edges, but he doesn’t even try to focus his gaze, the only thing that matters is the feeling of Charles’ skin meeting his.

There are lips on his shoulder blade, followed by teeth, which make Edwin tighten around Charles’ again.

“Charles, more, please, I’m–”

Charles pauses and Edwin almost sobs right there and then, but when he turns his head to the side to look at Charles and protest, the other ghost lifts Edwin’s hips up, effectively cutting him off. A hand lands right on his tailbone and Edwin has a brief moment to blearily wonder what its purpose is, before a thumb brushes the place where they’re joined. It’s not much more than just a hint of an idea, but even just this much punches a soundless gasp out of Edwin.

“Yeah?” Charles asks and starts to slowly move again, his finger still rubbing gently at Edwin’s stretched rim.

“Yes.” Due to unshed tears blurring his vision Edwin can only make out the outline of Charles’ shape, but he knows Charles can see him clearly, must see the fire that consumes him. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Slowly, gently, Charles touches him, pushes and pulls at him until Edwin’s ready to sob. But before he can, Charles withdraws halfway again and when he slides forward, the thumb joins him, sucked in by Edwin’s tight heat. The new stretch, the fullness, is so good, goosebumps erupt over his entire body, and the void gladly welcomes him again.

“Fuck, look at you,” Charles marvels, but Edwin can barely hear him. “You’re so pretty like this.”

It takes one more well-aimed thrust and Edwin’s gone.

He comes hard, body exhausted and trembling, but when he hears Charles’ loud moan and feels him spill inside, his cock gives one last excited twitch.

Luckily, he’s too worn out to startle, so when a body collapses on top of him, he barely reacts. Charles stays there for only a moment though, panting heavily, before excitedly maneuvering them to lie on their sides, so Edwin’s properly embraced, and not crushed.

The silk tie around his wrists loosens and slips away along with the curse.

“Is– is it gone now?” Charles says into Edwin’s hair as soon as he catches his breath.

Edwin nods.

“Aces.” The self-satisfied smile is evident in Charles’ voice and Edwin longs to see his face, but–

His mind clears and his sweaty body feels like it belongs to him again. But then Charles adjusts slightly to bring the two of them even closer and the jolt of the cock still inside Edwin, reminds him that maybe his body won’t ever be only his anymore. A hiss leaves his throat.

“Sorry,” Charles punctuates the apology with a kiss under Edwin’s ear. “Lemme just…”

He pulls out slowly and Edwin shakes with the loss. Despite the lack of nefarious forces having a hold on him, it’s still slightly hard to think straight for Edwin, all the visions of what they’ve just done pour into his head, unfiltered by the lust magic.

Charles is saying something to him, but the rush in Edwin’s ears drowns it all out, submerging his body into hollowness that feels as suffocating as it does familiar.

His breath is still uneven and rapid, but Edwin can’t stay pressed to Charles’ chest much longer, so makes an effort to untangle himself from the other ghost to sit up.

“Oi, what is it?” By the shuffling behind him, Edwin’s aware that Charles follows him up. He goes to wrap a hand around Edwin’s arm, but Edwin flinches back. Unlike the hold that Charles has on Edwin’s heart, this one is easy to break. “Edwin?”

Shakily, Edwin stands up and is glad to find that even without much concentration, he’s able to summon his trousers back on his body.

“Edwin, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did– did you not like it?”

It’s impossible to look at Charles at that moment. Edwin stumbles towards the desk to put some distance between them.

“I am fine. And you had a front row seat to witness just how much what we have done affected me, Charles. Which I am incredibly sorry for,” he mutters and cringes at how rough his voice is. Memories of all the desperate sounds he’s made flash through his head. “I am… you cannot even know how sorry I am.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Edwin can feel Charles close behind him, anxiously hovering. “Edwin, we’ve been over this already, haven’t we?”

“The curse has befallen you as well.”

“No, it hasn’t!” An exasperated hand lands on Edwin’s shoulder. “It hasn’t! Edwin, please look at me.”

Edwin allows himself a singular inhale for courage, and turns towards Charles.

“I’ve told you before, haven’t I? Why don’t you believe me?”

“It is simply impossible. I did not have much of it to begin with, but I must have expended all the good luck allotted to me on meeting you and then more again to be able to keep you with me through all these years.” The words spill from Edwin, wet and broken. “I fear that there is no more good luck left for this to be true as well.”

“You don’t need any good luck for this, love.” Charles’ smile begins to warm Edwin’s frozen insides. “You’ve earned it all by yourself. Just by being you. That’s what I love you for.”

“Charles…”

“I do.” Charles takes a hold of both of his hands and uses them to pull Edwin closer. “Love you. Sorry it took me so long to get there.”

“You never have to apologize for that.”

“Still am sorry though. If I figured it out sooner we could have been doing all that for ages.” Charles throws a thumb over his shoulder, to point at the tiny couch behind him. Despite himself, Edwin chuckles quietly and tries to suppress a blush forming on his cheeks.

“Do not fret. We have many years to make up for it.” Edwin allows himself to send a rare, cheeky smile Charles’ way. “If we are lucky.”

“Nah. We do,” Charles declares with conviction. A hand goes to cradle Edwin’s face and he raises his own hand to keep Charles’ in place. He’s unsure if it’s a lingering effect of the spell or if Charles’ touch will always make his head go a little fuzzy. He suspects it’s the latter. “We’ll both make sure to have as many years together as possible, won’t we, love?”

Edwin’s expression must be made out of pure adoration in that moment, but he doesn’t care to hide it anymore, no when he can see it openly mirrored on Charles’ face.

“Very well said, Charles.”