#edwin payne having feels about things he never allowed himself to even look at or think about

[lacertae-dreamscape]

i don't think i would be able to make this into a one-shot because its more of an idea rather than a fleshed out anything but like

i still think that together with Edwin slowly opening up to exploring his sexuality, he would finally realise it's alright to explore the things that modern times allow, even if he's a ghost.

there's new literature, there's movies and cinema, and music.

i just. Edwin allowing himself past the comfort bubble he forced himself into when it was scary to let change in before change happened on him anyway. allowing himself the power of control of finally stepping out of his comfort zone

what modern new music would he enjoy, when he allows himself to stop being judgemental on purpose against all new things?

its wishful thinking but i would love to see him enjoy both things like enya and loreena mckennit but also like. nightwish

wishful thinking bcs im a fan of all of those but like.

the thrum of deep bass would be something i think even a ghost could *feel* bcs its like. sound waves.

but also back to nightwish.

less than a headcanon more of a wishful thought of me.

Nemo. Walking in the air. The entirety of the Imaginaerum album (rest calm, i want my tears back...)

but in general, just Edwin allowing himself to like new things without reason or care. just allowing himself to be open about things and just. genuinely enjoying them.

what music would you think he'd enjoy?

also: equally important is edwin learning about science fiction and loving it, from the early stories up to asimov and more modern ones.

i feel like he'd absolutely like asimov's elijah baley books its still detectiving just in space

once again this is mostly wishful thinking bcs im tisming all over edwin SO.

[certifiablyinsanez]

I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.

Edwin Payne is THE character.

[iammissdistress]

Payneland Alive AU fic recs. Part 8

match, candle by Ingi

Rating: Explicit

Words: 19,271

Charles' five minute breaks have never, not once, lasted five minutes. Or: Six places that St Hilarion’s students Charles Rowland and Edwin Payne try to have sex in, with varying results. (Six first times.)

Stay The Night by @e-payne

Rating: Explicit

Words: 21,262

“Okay.” Charles laughs, breathy, and his eyes twinkle when he says, “I’ll be good.” A heat rises below the collar of Edwin’s shirt. Behind the tinted windshield, the waves crash on the shore. (Charles becomes a constant in Edwin's life.)

love’s so strange (so real in the dark) by @tumblerislovetumblerislife

Rating: Explicit

Words: 11,348

To illustrate his point, he gave Charles’ necklace a sharp tug. Charles did not answer the question, because Charles’ eyes were slipping shut and his lips were parting around a pretty gasp, the necklace slackening under Edwin’s finger as Charles followed the motion down – “Charles…” Edwin whispered, and it was not quite a question and not quite a warning. If he were to be brutally honest with himself – something he rarely allowed – it was simply to feel the shape of it in his mouth. “Tell me to stop,” Charles said at last, breaking the charged silence between them. His voice was hoarse. Edwin swallowed with difficulty. Charles’ eyes dipped down, and his ridiculously long lashes accenting the motion, until there could be no doubt that he was staring at Edwin’s mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” Or: In another universe, the doorbell doesn’t ring.

In The Name Of The Law by @thenyoumaykissthebride

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 22,323

DS Charles Rowland is 35, and loves being a copper. He finally found something he was good at after nearly 30 years of achieving nothing. He wants to help people, wants to make a difference and thought he was going to be able to do that in London. But now he's been moved to a new patch, and given a new boss to report to. DI Payne is a genius. At 34, he's the youngest person to make DI in 50 years. He's the best of the best, everyone will tell you that. Unfortunately that'll probably be the second thing they tell you. First they'll tell you he's rude, unapproachable and thinks he's better than everyone else. They might even tell you about the colleagues he's supposedly made cry, and definitely made request a transfer. But he doesn't care if you know that. All he cares about is finding Becky Aspen, before it's too late and she becomes another girl who's death he hasn't been able to solve.

i can keep a secret if you can keep me guessin' by @edwinspaynes

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 4,691

Life is hard for an Oxford student, but coffee makes Edwin's a little bit easier. Especially because Charles, the barista at his local coffee shop, is breathtakingly handsome. And, what's more, Charles seems to take a liking to him, too - Enough to make small pictures in the milk of his daily Cafe au Lait. Will they fall in love in time for the holidays? (Spoiler alert: the answer is yes.)

above all I want you to be warm by @shadowquill17

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 2,996

Charles has a maths test tomorrow morning. Which is why he’s in his boyfriend’s room on a Thursday evening, two days before the holidays, with said boyfriend looking dead fit in his neat but cozy-looking jumper. And Charles should currently be snogging him into oblivion, but what is he doing instead? He’s studying up on functions. In which there is studying, kissing, gifts, and more kissing.

[coloursflyaway]

fic prompt if youre interested: charles is hanging out by himself and accidentally meets 2 other ghosts and finds out they got married in the afterlife and absolutely goes crazy over it bc hes like you can get married in the afterlife?? ghost weddings exist??? should *i* propose to edwin???? and he cannot stop thinking about it and one day he's just like "edwin, do you think we should get married?" and edwin is like charles wtf?

Hi! It took some time, but here's the fic ♥

Because My Heart And His Are The Same

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.000

Read on AO3

“Let's get married”, he tells Edwin, quickly crossing the distance between the mirror and the desk, and this gets a reaction at last, Edwin’s head whipping up to stare at him. “That’s what we have to do. I talked to the witness and her husband, and I’ll tell you about the case later, but they got married when they were dead, because the whole Til Death Do Us Part thing, that should work the other way around too, right? Like, if we are already dead and we get married, then there is nothing left to part us. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Charles and Edwin get married before they even know they are in love. (They find out twenty years later.)

“...and once we had met, it was almost like destiny. It took maybe a few weeks, but after that, we both knew that we were it for each other. Soulmates, I guess you could call it. Sometimes, I wonder if being dead just makes it easier to decide these things, like life falling away allows you to focus on the important things.”

Marian, the witness Charles set out to interview and got completely sidetracked by, looks over to the man next to her, and her eyes are so warm and so soft and so grateful that it does something to Charles’ head and chest that he isn’t sure he likes. Something is growing there, caught between happiness and jealousy and, mixed in between, the feeling he occasionally gets when he looks at Edwin.

For a fleeting, almost unnoticeable moment, he wishes Edwin was here, without knowing why. Apart from the fact, of course, that he usually wants Edwin there with him.

“And we ended up thinking how to go on from that, because I would like to move on at some point in the future, but I would never be able to leave Sebastian. It wouldn’t be Heaven without him there, if that is where I will be going, and it would be Hell for him. Seb’s always been a romantic, or so he tells me, and he came up with an idea that was so strange that we figured it might work.”

Another smile, another look, a nod from Sebastian, and the feeling in Charles’ chest pulses, presses against his ribs like it is trying to break free.

“You see”, Marian continues, “Til Death Do Us Part, when you promise that alive, that means you will be parted once you’ve died. So, Seb figured, if that is true, then Death might not be able to part us if we get married when we’re already dead. Of course, here’s no guarantee that it’ll work, but then again, it can’t hurt to try either. So, eight weeks after we met, we went to find a priest that could see ghosts and we got married.”

She reaches out to take her husband’s hand, but by now, Charles’ mind is reeling to the point where he barely notices it, where the smitten expression on her face can’t fan the emotions blooming in his chest any more. They’re still there, and might stay for a long time, but at the moment, they just don’t matter.

“And that’s the story how I ended up with such an overly-long, hyphenated name. I don’t mind it, though, I wear it with pride, since it’s ours, and-”

Marian is about to launch into another bit of their story, and usually, Charles would be glad to listen – he, just like Sebastian, is a romantic at heart, always has been – but he can’t, not now. Not when he might just have received the most important bit of information since he first listened to The Special’s self-titled album in 1987. A proper revelation, this might be.

Because it makes sense. If marriage is something that can only be broken by death, then getting married after you have died should make it unbreakable. Right?

“I have to go”, he blurts out, then adds, both to be polite and because he really, truly means it, “but thank you. Like, seriously. Thank you so much.”

“Edwin! Edwin, come here!”, Charles yells out even before he has fully come through the mirror, too excited to hold onto the words for a second longer, “We have to do something!”

There’s a moment of silence, which means that Edwin is absolutely not moving, like he should be, then, “Do what, Charles? You seem quite flustered. Did something happen with the witness?”

Edwin isn’t even looking up from where he is bent over the desk, studying an artefact or reading a book, obviously not understanding the seriousness of the situation at all. It should be exasperating, but Charles only feels fond, the affection blossoming in his chest enough to cut through the excitement.

“Get married”, he tells Edwin, quickly crossing the distance between the mirror and the desk, and this gets a reaction at last, Edwin’s head whipping up to stare at him. “That’s what we have to do. I talked to the witness and her husband, and I’ll tell you about the case later, but they got married when they were dead, because the whole Til Death Do Us Part thing, that should work the other way around too, right? Like, if we are already dead and we get married, then there is nothing left to part us. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Charles feels the idea buzzing through his body like he remembers caffeine doing when he was still alive, making him rock on his heels, fingers tangling and untangling, even if Edwin is still only staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

“...we can’t get married”, Edwin finally answers, slow and soft, like he is still piecing the words together, like he is still navigating his thoughts even as he is speaking them. “We are… both boys.”

Sometimes, he forgets how different Edwin’s time was; sometimes, he forgets that even as they have become part of a new era, one in which neither of them has ever lived, it usually takes Edwin longer to catch up with how things have changed.

“Get with the times, Edwin!”, Charles tells him, grinning, because for once, he is the brains, and he is the one who has done his research before coming here. “It’s 2006! We can go to the Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Spain or South Africa. I’ll even let you choose. We could do a little honeymoon-like vacation after that, too! The only thing we have to do is find some kind of official there who can see ghosts, and voila! Married.”

It’s so easy, it’s such a great idea, Edwin just has to realise it. And he will, Charles is certain of it. After all, Edwin is brilliant.

“But-”, Edwin breathes out, and there is another moment of silence, one that somehow feels breathless, feels heavy with emotion that Charles cannot place; something momentous, terrifying, life-changing. “….you would want to marry me?”

“Of course.” It’s the easiest question in the world to answer, even if Edwin asks it like it should be impossible to do so; it’s Edwin, it’s an extra bit of hope for them to stay together, like they should, have to, will. “You’re my best mate. I don’t wanna leave you ever, so it makes sense, doesn’t it? Doesn’t have to be romantic, not to us. But if Death ever does catch us, we’ll be able to go, absolutely not, death can’t part us, it’s the thing that brought us together. Brills, right?”

And there is another pause, just as breathless, just as life-changing; Edwin drops his gaze, and when he answers, his voice is soft in a different, a hopeful way.

“Yes. You’re right. That would be brills, indeed.”

They’re on the rooftop, watching the sun rise, because the agency feels crowded with Niko and Crystal sleeping on the couch, and Edwin’s hand is in his, just where it belongs.

They haven’t had much time to themselves lately, so this feels like a treat, a few peaceful hours they have carved out to just be with each other, enjoy these strange, beautifully changed circumstances of their relationship. Because they are beautiful, Charles thinks as he strokes his thumb across Edwin’s knuckles; they are beautiful because being with Edwin always is, always has been, because they were meant to be friends for three decades and they are meant to be much more for the rest of their existence, because he loves Edwin the most of all, and always will.

“We should do this more often, coming up here”, Edwin says softly into the light of the morning sun, and his voice feels like a balm on every scratch on Charles’ soul. “It really is quite pretty. And I have always loved the sunrise.”

And I have always loved you, Charles wants to say, but doesn’t; he doesn’t have to, Edwin knows.

He’s right, too: the city is just waking up underneath them, dawn is painting the sky pink and peach, the clouds scattered across it like sea foam. It reminds Charles of South Africa, of watching the sunrise on the beach there, and…

“Oh, God”, Charles blurts out before he has had a second to think, half-laughing, and knows Edwin is looking at him with one perfect eyebrow raised without turning his head. “Oh God, I just realised something. Edwin. I kind of figured you were my boyfriend now, or something, but you’re not. I can’t believe I forgot about that. You’re my husband.”

And he’s laughing, because how do you forget about being married to the love of your afterlife? And yet, how do you not, when you’ve only fallen in love with him two decades after marrying him?

It takes Edwin a second, but then he joins Charles, hand tightening around his fingers, and there is something so precious about Edwin’s laughter, especially when it sounds like this, carefree and incredulous and happy, that Charles thinks he might be falling in love with him all over again.

“If it’s any consolation, Charles, I had forgotten about it, too”, Edwin tells him once their laughter has died down, a smile still on his plush lips; Charles almost kisses it off them. “Even if it was quite a beautiful wedding.”

“It was.” It had been warm and sunny and quick, just them and a lovely older woman, a kiss to Edwin’s cheek and a lie about being too timid for public affection, a long walk on the beach afterwards and the elation of a little bit more hope that they would never have to part. “We should do it again.”

“What?”

“Get married.” He’s only had the thought for a split second, and yet Charles can almost see it in his mind: a proper ceremony this time, with Crystal and Niko there, writing vows and kissing Edwin senseless after he says I do, and meaning it differently this time, still meaning it the same way as the first time, too. “We should get married again. Marry me again?”

The question startles a surprised sound from Edwin, something in between a laugh and a gasp, and his eyes are as wide as they were the first time Charles proposed it. Proposed to him.

“But we have permission to stay here now”, Edwin counters, soft and warm and intrigued; his fingers tighten around Charles’ and Charles wants to slide a ring on one of them and never see Edwin without it again.

“I know. Doesn’t make me want to marry you any less”, he tells Edwin and can’t help but smile, can’t help but let the excitement, the love colour every word of it. “There’s so many more countries we could go to now, and there are no records of it anywhere, so we could get married in each one of them. I want to marry you on a beach and in a church and on top of the highest building we can find. And if that stupid department ever changes its mind, and Death finds us, we can tell her, she can’t split us apart, because-”

“-because death is the thing that brought us together.”

“Exactly.” Charles smiles, touched that Edwin remembered his words from back then, and is fairly certain that, if Edwin still had blood flowing through his body, he would be blushing. “A dozen times, at least.”

It takes a moment, but it is one Charles doesn’t mind waiting for, because then Edwin says, “Alright. I’ll marry you. Again.”

“And again?”

“And again”, Edwin replies, soft and sweet, and Charles loves him, then adds, “And then again, if you want to. Husband.”

And this time, Charles gives in, wouldn’t know how to stop himself, and kisses the love and the surprise and the happiness right off Edwin’s lips, and thinks about how they’ll taste after having said their vows the next time, and the one after that, and the one after that, too.

And clutches Edwin closer, and thinks, and the one after that, as well.

And kisses that thought onto Edwin’s lips, too.

[mandoriana]

Just some headcanon I have about Edwin Payne.

Edwin had two younger sisters, one called Elvira Payne and the other called Edith Payne, both were twins and were six years old when Edwin died.

(Elvira and Edith Payne)

He also had an older brother named Enrique Foster Payne, who no longer lived with the family.

(Enrique Payne)

Edwin was not close to his older brother, the two were only a few years apart, but Enrique disliked Edwin for being "too fem" or "too beautiful".

Enrique studied at the same boarding school as Edwin and, a year before finishing school, he told the older boys that his brother was a mary ann and that he loved playing with dolls with his sisters.

Neither of Edwin's parents really showed interest in what he did, but his father always praised his intelligence and his mother always praised his politeness, both of which are things that Edwin strived to maintain even after years in hell.

Edwin didn't like people or animals, but there was an orange cat that roamed his house and appeared every night at his window, Edwin fed and looked after the feline, the name he gave the cat was Tom, unfortunately he never saw the animal after he was sent to boarding school.

(Cat Tom)

His mother was called Arabella and his father was called Edgar.

(Arabella and Edgar Payne)

Edwin is autistic, but as he is already dead, some more physical aspects no longer affect him, for example, being sensitive to bright lights or loud noises, feeling discomfort with certain textures…

Edwin admired his mother and sisters' clothes, and always felt embarrassed about it.

Before his sisters were born, Edwin and his mother were closer, they painted pictures together, practiced the piano, went shopping together, even gardened, she treated him as if he were a daughter, as she always wanted to have girls.

Edwin is gay and gender fluid.

His favorite flowers are Forget-Me-Nots, they were his sisters' favorites too.

The only people who suffered from Edwin's death were Elvira and Edith, twins did not understand why his disappearance was an "act of god".

Edwin said terrible things before learning to live in a society completely different from his own. Really bad things that sometimes made Charles stop and look at his friend in horror before explaining how bad what Edwin said was.

Once Edwin understood how evil and prejudiced he to be, he would spend the next few days ashamed of himself and apologizing to any minority he offended with his words.

All the slang he knows is thanks to Charles.

"Handjob", "Manage" and any other current word that refers to sex or libidinous acts are always strange to Edwin, not because he is innocent, just because his only companion for 30 years was Charles and Charles is a defender of the honor of his friend, so he would never say such vulgar obscenities in front of Edwin, mainly because he knows he will be questioned and will have to explain it to him.

Edwin was considered rare and valuable in hell, many demons wanted his soul because he didn't belong there, and this led to Edwin being used as a bargaining chip several times before ending up in the "Doll house".

His notebook was something he took from one of the rooms in the "Doll house" so the pages never run out, and he can always use the notebook even after almost 100 years with it.

His soul is very strong thanks to the amount of pain he suffered in hell, things that would hurt normal ghosts have done nothing to Edwin unless it is a much greater amount.

He is one of the few ghosts capable of using magic, as spells cause a lot of pain since they require excess spiritual energy.

In 1990 Charles got a record player, Edwin taught Charles dance moves and Charles taught him some. When they weren't playing board games for fun, they were dancing.

Explaining to Edwin how Michael Jackson turned white was the hardest thing Charles did in all his afterlife years.

Edwin allowed himself to wear a dress once, then Niko offered to wear a suit, they didn't most it to anyone, but they had fun together in a small parade.

Although they didn't get along well at first, Edwin and Crystal are friends, whenever she has a female problem, like menstrual cramps, he offers to get her cocaine. (She loves it!)

Only Crystal can speak ill of Edwin, she will destroy heaven and earth if anyone says anything about him.

Crystal, Edwin and Niko always have an all-girls party, sometimes Edwin uses his "Niko's Aunt" disguise to pretend to be the mother of one of the girls when they need it, for example, he once used this disguise to talk to a Crystal's teacher who claimed that she was cheating (she was), although he himself didn't approve of Crystal's cheating he made a big show of stating that he would bring down the whole school if the teacher didn't apologize to Crystal and admit that she deserved the A+.

[littlechameleonguy]

Figure Out What the Rest Means (part 1?)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: E

Word Count: 2386

Charles and Edwin might have come out of hell with a little different points of view from the confession. Gladly, Charles finally realizes that too.

Charles watched fondly as Edwin and Crystal bantered about how to handle their research about the new case while simultaneously getting ready to leave the office. They’d come a long way since Port Townsend. Of course, they were still Edwin and Crystal, still bickering, still both too stubborn for their own good but they were also friends now and that was just brills. His two favorite people getting along was a big win in Charles’ book.

“So we’re off then,” Edwin announced to Charles and Niko who were staying behind at the office. Charles had to clean up the backpack and in extend parts of their storage and Niko was still going through Edwin’s books to memorize as many supernatural phenomena as possible. They all had to adjust to the new situation but it was great.

Their agency had grown. Crystal and Niko were in the office almost every day but stayed with Jenny during the nights in a small flat. So the nights still belong to Edwin and Charles and their research as it always had been. Also, the Night Nurse (no, Charles was not allowed to call her Charlie) popped in from time to time to check on them. She was still cold and distant most of the time but Charles was sure she was warming up a little. Everyone liked him eventually.

So things were great, really great. Everyone he loved was around and still, things between him and Edwin had kind of stayed the same, at least when they were alone. But that was the problem though, wasn’t it? After what happened in hell Charles had expected things to be a little different but they weren’t. In fact, Edwin acted like his whole confession had never happened and that was a little confusing.

Charles was of course happy that it hadn’t gotten weird between them, that was truly the last thing he wanted but he’d hoped for a little more. Edwin completely ignored every bit of flirting on Charles’ part and he didn’t say or do anything different than before himself. Which was fine, their friendship was amazing, always had been but Charles had thought that they would move to something else and they hadn’t and he hated to admit it but he was a little disappointed. He’d thought they wanted to figure out the feelings between them and it was just not happening.

But right now Edwin smiled at him and if Charles still had a beating heart, it would have probably stopped for a second. “If you find the book about deep-water plant life, can you put it on the desk for me?” He asked and Charles nodded. The damn thing should be somewhere in the bag. “Sure, mate. Have fun,” he responded to both Edwin and Crystal. “Have fun!” Niko echoed and moved to Charles’ side to see them off. Crystal waved them goodbye and she and Edwin left.

Charles didn’t realize he was staring at the door for multiple minutes until Niko liked their arms. He looked down at her and she was already smiling warmly at him. “I noticed something,” she said with a cute little melody in her voice. She was adorable. “You’re staring,” she finished. He grinned not ashamed at all. “Am I?” She nodded. “You’ve been staring at Edwin all morning and.” She stretched out the word. “you’re smiling a lot while doing so.”

Charles still wasn’t ashamed, he didn’t care that he got caught. Edwin was damn pretty, sue him. “I have, haven’t I?” he agreed still grinning and Niko hugged his arm even tighter in return. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you like him after all.” Charles raised a brow. “Who said I don’t?” Her smile faded a little and she tilted her head questioning to one side. “You?” She answered confusing Charles further.

“Of course, I like Edwin, what are you talking about?” That on the other hand seemed to confuse Niko further. “He confessed his feelings for you, didn’t he?” She asked and Charles nodded even though he wasn’t sure how much Edwin had told Niko. “Yeah,” he answered slowly. “And you told him you didn’t like him back that way, right?” She investigated further.

Charles blinked multiple times before he was able to form a sentence again. “Is that what he said? That I don’t like him back.” Niko shrugged but then nodded. Charles gasped for air he didn’t really need. This had to be a joke but part of him already knew it wasn’t because suddenly their whole not changed situation made a lot more sense. “That is what Edwin got from that conversation? Bloody hell.” He tried to stay calm, this wasn’t Niko’s fault.

“What did you say to him?” She asked and at this point, Charles saw no reason not to tell her. “I told him that I love him. I told him that he is the most important person in the world for me. I told him that there is no one else I would go to hell for. I just…” he hesitated because this was so frustrating and his voice had gone louder with every sentence. “But I also said that I can’t say that I’m in love with him,” he concluded a lot quieter.

He looked at Niko and felt almost desperate for her to understand. She wasn’t Edwin, she wasn’t the person who needed to understand but right now Charles just needed anyone to understand. “I told him that we’ll figure this out, that we have forever to figure this out but Niko I love him, of course I love him. How can he not know that?”

Her smile returned and she hugged his arm a little tighter for a moment. “Because he’s Edwin, he rarely expects good things to happen. Neither do you by the way,” she added and raised both her eyebrows for a second. Again, he blinked confused. “What do you mean?” Her smile got brighter. “That you too are missing the point here.” He still didn’t get it. “You like Edwin and Edwin likes you,” she clarified. “And even though you have known that for the last couple of months, he hasn’t.”

His frustration vanished. She was right. Edwin hadn’t acted on the fact that they both liked each other because Edwin didn’t know. “I have to tell him,” he concluded and Niko happily started to bounce on her feet. “Yes! We can fix it!” She sounded excited and somehow that made Charles excited too because she was right. It just wasn’t right that Edwin didn’t know that he meant the world to Charles. He needed to make this clear so that even Edwin’s thick, self-deprecating head would have to understand.

“Right, you’re right. I can fix this, I will fix this.” He grinned and so did Niko. “You’ll help me, yeah?” He asked and nodded excitedly. And so they started planning, completely abandoning the tasks they were supposed to work on today.

If Charles had had more time, he would have liked to prepare more but Niko’s phone had buzzed about ten minutes ago with a message from Crystal that she and Edwin were on their way back. Niko had bought him a little extra time by asking if they could bring food but Charles still had to wrap this up.

They were on the roof because it came down to this or the office, and he didn’t want to do this downstairs. The office was their place but it certainly wasn’t a really romantic place. The roof suited a love confession much better, not that Charles could use a worse place than Edwin had. Also, Niko was amazing, she had brightened up the place in no time.

There were fairy lights and candles and a nice place with blankets and pillows for Charles and Edwin to sit. Charles had mostly just done what she’d suggested and he didn’t regret it, it looked cozy. He’d also added the little touch of him and Edwin he needed for this. There was the lamp Edwin had brought when Charles had died, the same one Charles had used in hell to save Edwin. It was just fitting and also he wanted a little more light than just the fairy lights and candles because he also had brought books. He didn’t want to read them particularly, he more wanted them to just be around.

There was the book Edwin had read to him the night they’d met and a play of Orpheus and Eurydice Edwin had got for him after he confessed in hell, so that Charles knew how this story ended. (He’d never finished it. He already knew it ended badly, so he didn’t want to know.) Also, some other books he just knew Edwin liked, including the one he was currently reading and the deep-water plant one he found in the bag so he’d at least done part of his assigned job.

“We should go back downstairs, they should be here any minute now,” Niko said and Charles nodded. She searched his eyes. “Are you ready?” She was probably as jittery about this as he was. He grinned. “Yeah.” Then he shook his head. “Also no.” She chuckled. “I’m sure it will be great.” He smiled and then he hugged her. “Thank you.”

Charles tried to act natural after they went down but he was restless about this. How could this be so hard? He already knew that Edwin was in love with him, there was nothing he needed to worry about. He still did. If he’d still been alive his heart would be racing right now and his hands would be so sweaty. There was no point in denying it, he was nervous. He couldn’t stare at the door, he needed to calm down. So instead he fixed his eyes on the desk.

When the door opened, Charles turned again and suddenly the world seemed to hold. It was a good thing that he didn’t need to breathe anymore because seeing Edwin and knowing he would confess to him tonight made him forget that breathing used to be a thing. Edwin was beautiful and of course, Charles knew that, he’d known Edwin for decades but at this moment it hit Charles with full force. Edwin was radiant.

Charles hadn’t realized that the others were talking until Edwin addressed him. “Charles, are you all right?” For a second that felt far longer Charles couldn’t speak. “I love you,” he blurted out. Edwin just smiled fondly. “I know, I lo…” “No!” Charles interrupted him. “You don’t know, that's the problem.” He sounded more angry than he wanted to, he wasn’t angry after all, just frustrated.

For a second the room got uncomfortably silent. “Okay, I think that is our cue to go,” Crystal said then and took Niko by the arm who gave Charles a weak smile. He smiled back. “I’m sorry, that’s not quite how I planned it,” He apologized but she just smiled brighter and gave him two thumbs up while she and Crystal left.

Only when the door had fallen shut, he turned back to Edwin who wasn’t quite looking at him. “Listen, mate, I’m sorry, again not what I’ve planned but I hate that you don’t know. How can you not know?” Edwin still didn’t look at him. “You said you were not in love with me.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Well no, I didn’t. I said that I can’t say that I’m in love with you.” He moved a little closer to his best friend. “I also can’t say I’m not in love with you.”

Edwin finally met his gaze. He looked shocked. “Elaborate,” he asked and Charles was only too happy to oblige. “I love you,” he said again, both because Edwin needed to know and because it just felt good to say it. “But in love seems big, very big. When I say that to you, I want to be one hundred percent sure that I mean it. Shit, man, we were in literal hell, we haven’t even kissed and you expected me to say that I’m in love with you just there and then, nay. I want to do this right. I owe you to do this right.” He shook his head and then corrected himself. “I owe us to do this right.”

Edwin drew in a breath he didn’t need. He still looked so uncertain and Charles hated that. “I’m still confused, Charles. What does that mean exactly?” Charles couldn’t stop himself from actually groaning in frustration. “Okay, let me make it absolutely clear so that even you get this into your thick scull; I love you, as more than a friend. I want to be with you. You’re the smartest person I know, how can you not get this?”

“Charles, I…” “Nah,” Charles interrupted him. “I’m not done.” He moved another step closer so that there was almost no space left between them and cupped Edwin’s face in his hands. Edwin leaned into the touch and suddenly Charles had no idea what he’d been about to say. “You’re so beautiful,” he said instead. Edwin made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and he let his forehead gently fall to Charles’.

“Just to be sure I got this properly into my thick scull; You love me?” He asked and Charles made a sound that sounded pretty similar to the one Edwin had just made. “Yes, Edwin Payne, I love you,” he answered without hesitation. “I love you too, Charles Rowland,” Edwin answered and Charles felt like he could swallow the sun.

He chuckled. “Took us long enough, didn’t it?” “I was warned that it might take literally forever,” Edwin joked and Charles wanted to kiss him. Instead, he moved back a little to lock eyes with Edwin. “Do you want to see what Niko and I had actually planned for me to confess?” He asked and Edwin raised a brow. “Planned?” Charles grinned.

Now that the hard part was already out of the way, he was excited to show Edwin what they’d prepared on the roof. “Come on,” he said and he took Edwin’s hand like he’d done a million times before. Only this time it meant so much more.

************

But why don’t they kiss? Easy, the story’s not done! But honestly, no idea when motivation might strike again, sorry ^^° Wish me luck!

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 2 - DBDA Week

Day 2 of Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week: 10th-16th June by @dbdcentral

Prompt: Alternate Universe

Relationships: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Tags: Alternative Universe - Magic, Star-crossed lovers

TW: None

--

Charles would always remember the day Edwin had to leave for the Academy. They had always known it would come, he wasn’t sure if they had been pretending not to, or if they just never realised completely what it meant. Edwin had kissed him with lips wet and salty from his tears, and Charles had watched until the car disappeared completely beyond his sight.

He felt empty, purposeless. His mind kept going back to all those happy moments they had shared growing up, first playing together in the woods, then the first time they held hands, the first shy kisses. The memories seemed more real than his present life.

He couldn’t deny that he had thought about following him to the city, but Wizards were rare, and precious to the society, and they weren’t allowed to mix with ordinary people like himself.

He moved his fingers to his wrist, to trace the shape of the bracelet Edwin had given him before he left. The feeling grounded him. He said the rune on the pendant would change colour when Edwin thought of him, it was pulsing a warm green now.

-

Six years after the dreadful day when he said goodbye to Charles, the memories of him still haunted Edwin every moment of every day. He wondered what the other boy looked like, if he had grown taller than him, if he still had that blinding smile that made the sun look pale in comparison. It had been torture to be separated for so long. Even now that he was finally about to graduate, he still wasn’t free. His path had been written for him long before he was even born, like every other child of one of the wizarding families, he was supposed to take its place among the Wizard’s High Council who protected the country.

He knew he should just give up hope to ever see Charles again since they were destined for different places. Surely, Charles would have become a Fighter by now, and an amazing one at that. But he held onto hope that one day, they could find a way back to each other.

He concentrated all his powers on the bracelet he had given him that day, hoping that the incantation was strong enough to still be working. 

-

The city buzzed with excitement, the annual parade celebrating the country’s independence had brought everyone out in the streets. There were flags waving, music, food stalls and happiness all around him, but Charles didn’t spare a second look at any of those. He had only one goal. He pursed his lips, his gaze determined, focused on the tall building of the Academy, standing majestically at the other side of the square.

He knew he would find Edwin there, ever since he arrived, his bracelet had been pulsing a deep red, the strongest colour he had seen in it yet. It was the thing that made him certain that his feelings were still reciprocated, that Edwin expected him.

Hiding among the crowd, he made his way closer to the entrance. He just had to wait for the fireworks to start, so that the guards would be distracted.

The moment he saw the first burst of lights and colours from the corner of his eye, he slipped inside, trying to remain in the shadows. He ran through the corridors, in the direction of the rooftop, where he knew all the students gathered every year to watch the show.

When he peered inside, he found his favourite emerald eyes already fixed on the door. So many years, and their minds still worked in perfect harmony, understanding each other without the need for words.

He saw Edwin excuse himself and move towards the door, Charles felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest.

“I was hoping you would come,” Edwin whispered in his ear. It made a shiver run down his spine.

He thought about replying, there were at least a thousand things he wanted to say, to ask, but there were more pressing matters. He all but launched himself at him, hugging him close, his lips rushing to Edwin’s like a drowning man resurfacing and finding the first breath of air. The kiss didn’t taste like salt this time, it tasted like desperation, and need, and in one moment it managed to make six years look like a snap of fingers.

Edwin guided him by the hand along the corridor to a room, and locked the door behind him. Finally safe from prying eyes, they dared to look at each other more thoroughly. Edwin was even more beautiful than he remembered him, his shoulders had broadened, his eyes were shining with happiness and he wanted nothing more than to kiss his smile again.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” Edwin said, breathless. “I kept looking at the door but I thought that maybe you had moved on, or you forgot about me.”

Charles shook his head in disbelief. “I thought about nothing else since the day you left.”

He entwined their fingers together, leaning his head on Edwin’s shoulder. They would have to separate again soon, or people would start looking for them, but at least they had this one day they could steal for themselves. And Charles would never give up hope.

[coloursflyaway]

Reach Out And Touch Faith

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 7.500

Read on AO3

And Charles doesn’t notice that Edwin doesn't touch him anymore, maybe for no other reason than that he doesn’t want to, because doing so hurts, but then there’s a night when Edwin walks past him and he raises his hand like he wants to brush it against Charles’ arm – his metaphorical heartbeat picks up at that, like Charles has been waiting fo this even more than he realised – but then, a second before his hand connects, Edwin pulls it back like he’s been burnt. And that, well. That hurts too.

Edwin stops touching Charles; Charles doesn't deal well with it.

For @tragedy-machine and @just-slightly-chaotic who sent me two prompts that worked too well together for me not to write them one too long story ♥♥♥

Charles isn’t sure how or even when it starts.

Sometime after they come back from Port Townsend, but there is so much going on with moving Jenny’s belongings and integrating Crystal fully into the agency back in London and finding Niko, alive and well, if a little frozen, that he almost doesn’t notice that sometime in between, it changes. That Edwin does.

He’s never been particularly physically affectionate, but over the years, the decades, Charles had managed to get Edwin to at least occasionally touch him, and to allow Charles to touch him in return. Only that now, it stops.

It’s not that obvious, at least not at first, but at some point, Charles wants to put a hand on his arm and Edwin twists so that Charles touches thin air instead. Then, on another day, Charles leans over his shoulder to get a peek at the book Edwin is reading from and Edwin angles it differently, so that Charles has no option but to stand beside him instead. The next time, Edwin is sitting on their sofa, and Charles is about to throw himself down next to him, the way they usually sit (Edwin with his back as straight as if he was ballroom dancing instead of relaxing, his knees at a precise 90 degree angle, hands holding a book; Charles flung carelessly across the cushions, head pillowed by his own arms or the armrest, his legs bent at the knee or stretched out so his feet are resting in Edwin’s lap) but instead of looking up at Charles and giving him a smile, or maybe even lifting his book so Charles’ feet will fit better, he gets up like there is something incredibly important to do when Charles knows that there isn’t.

And Charles doesn’t notice it, maybe for no other reason than that he doesn’t want to, because doing so hurts, but then there’s a night when Edwin walks past him and he raises his hand like he wants to brush it against Charles’ arm – his metaphorical heartbeat picks up at that, like Charles has been waiting for this even more than he realised – but then, a second before his hand connects, Edwin pulls it back like he’s been burnt.

And that, well. That hurts too.

It becomes more apparent after that, all those little moments that Charles must have missed or glossed over because he didn’t want to see them. He doesn’t get to fix Edwin’s collar anymore because Edwin does it before Charles has the chance to even notice, their arms don’t brush when they are walking, the one time they get stuck in a dark tunnel for a case, Edwin doesn’t reach out and wraps his fingers around Charles’ wrist like he used to. On instinct, Charles moves to do so instead, but stops himself before he can even feel the ghost of Edwin’s skin against his.

Because no matter how much he wants to touch Edwin, he isn’t sure why Edwin has stopped wanting to be touched. It might be nothing but a passing change, might be something more important that Edwin has to sort out for himself, the only thing Charles knows, that he promises right then and there, is that he will give him whatever time he needs to do it.

Maybe it has to do with Esther tying him up, or Hell, or that absolute wanker of a Cat King; Charles tries out every explanation he can think of but none of them really, truly fit. Then again, Edwin is complicated on his best days, and it’s nothing he seems to want to discuss with Charles, so Charles just resigns himself to this, even if it leaves his fingers cold, and the space between his ribs empty, and his heart lonelier than it has been in decades.

“Hey mate, you find that plant you wanted?”, Charles calls out as soon as Edwin returns to the agency; he didn’t quite see him come through the mirror, but he knows Edwin is back anyway, like something in the very air around them shifts. Go over and hug him, his mind whispers, but Charles forces the thought down, crushes it into the furthest corner of his brain.

“It’s not just a plant, Charles”, Edwin admonishes, even if gently, as soon as Charles has come close enough to see the eyebrow he has raised. “It’s a mandrake, very difficult to find, and yes, I have found it.”

He holds up a glass jar that is filled with something brown and vaguely dirty; something that doesn’t look like Edwin should be as proud of as he seems to be. The mass even seems to be wiggling slightly, still.

“And where did you find it?”, Charles asks although he isn’t sure he wants to know; Edwin looks unharmed, so at least he doesn’t have to worry. “And, even more important, what did you have to do to get it?”

“Oh, nothing much at all.” Edwin straightens his own collar, and Charles’ fingers itch at the missed chance. “I gave them the haunted needle cushion from 2002, since I doubt we still have any use for it, and we definitely need the mandrake to restock the potion shelves.”

“Aw, I liked that needle cushion, it shrieked every time I used it”, Charles says, and doesn’t pout at all. “But I guess you are right, the potions do have priority and I can sew on patches without making the needle cushion cry out to the beat of Sun and the Rain if I have to.”

Edwin smiles at that, and for a moment, it’s all like it used to be, like it should be, but then Charles moves to take the jar from Edwin’s hands like he always does; their fingers brush, and Edwin jerks back like he has been stung and Charles feels the smile freeze on his lips, feels his fingers and his heart freeze too.

They are on a case which Niko is almost too excited for, because it involves a magician (“You mean that it is not real magic?”, she asks and Charles feels a bit like he has to tell a child that Santa isn’t real when he nods. It only lasts one second though. “In that case, his sleight of hand is even more impressive. He claims he can make his entire assistant disappear!”) and while the girls are interviewing the man, Edwin and he sneak off to look around the theatre they are in.

It’s quite pretty, old-fashioned, and Charles knows that Edwin loves it without him saying a word.

“The Amazing Arnold, that’s quite a name, isn’t it?”, Charles says as they round the corner; they are looking for strange, glowing glyphs that have been left on places imbued with magic around town. “Maybe we should stick around for the performance? I think Niko would enjoy it at least, and I’ve never seen an actual magician perform.”

Edwin hums in a way that is painfully familiar, and Charles’ whole body is screaming for him to reach out and brush his knuckles against Edwin’s side, bump his shoulder into him, any kind of contact, but he doesn’t dare to.

“I think that might be -”, Edwin starts, but then the door in front of them is flung open.

“Hello boys”, the woman standing there drawls, a smile on her lips that looks both seductive and ironic, a hint of a German accent clinging to her speech. “Before you ask, yes, I can see you, there was an unfortunate accident with some real magic some years ago. Arnold cannot, the poor thing, so please don’t mention it, he feels bad enough about the whole mess already.”

“And you are?”, Edwin asks, obviously unamused by the interruption, but the woman just chuckles, her laugh the kind that comes from whiskey and cigarettes and long, long nights.

“Amina. The assistant. Quite charmed, I’m sure.” She extends a hand, but Edwin doesn’t take it, so Charles does instead. It’s contact, not the one he wants, but some kind of it, and Charles’ hands tingle with it, even if he cannot feel her like he can feel Edwin, even if she is not the one he craves to feel.

“Quite”, he agrees and shakes her hand for maybe a second too long anyway, gives her a smile and tries not to look over at Edwin and wish it was his hand instead. “Definitely a pleasure.”

“No kiss?”, Amina asks, half joking, half flirting, before she pulls her hand from Charles’, leaving it empty, leaving it lonelier than it was before. “Oh well. I guess I will have to go to my partner for that. Anyway, can I help you darlings with anything?”

Amina turns out to be more than helpful, leading them to three different locations where runes are twinkling in their little corners like those fluorescent stars Charles used to have up on his bedroom ceiling when he was a child. They are pretty in a way, even if they seem to be part of a city-wide spell, which never bodes well.

“Thank you so much for your help”, Charles tells her as they are parting to find Crystal and Niko, and glances at her hand; Edwin stiffens beside him, even if there is nothing around them that would warrant that reaction when Charles looks around for a cause.

“It was absolutely my pleasure”, Amina replies, and blows them, blows Charles a kiss as she saunters away, and for a moment, Charles thinks about just how much he has missed kissing.

They stay for the performance, sitting at the very back of the crowd, but Edwin makes sure that Niko is seated between the two of them, clapping and grinning and so enchanted by Amina disappearing only to step back onto the stage a minute later, that Charles almost forgets about how much he longs to lean into Edwin’ side and feel his presence next to him.

“Did you like it?”, Charles asks afterwards, as they are walking home, the girls chatting excitedly next to them.

“An adequate amount”, Edwin tells him, and he sounds strangely stilted “Although it, of course, does not compare to real magic, it was rather well done. And Niko seemed to enjoy it a great deal.”

“Don’t worry, we all know that you’re the far better magician between the two of you.” Charles thinks for a moment, then adds, “Although I suppose that means we should get you a cool nickname, too. Don’t you think? The Astonishing Edwin, maybe? The-”

“Oh, we are absolutely not doing that at all!”, Edwin cuts him off immediately, but there is a hint of laughter in his voice, something that sounds much more like him, and even though the want is still burning underneath his skin, Charles takes the thought and buries it deep in his chest, because no matter what, they’re still okay.

In the end, they find another twenty-three sets of runes, and Edwin dispels them with nothing more than a bit of turpentine, some mumbled Aramaic and a flick of the hand that Charles wants to hold.

It’s later, much later, another day, and Niko has woven a few tiny braids into Charles’ hair, which had calmed a bit of the craving thrumming through his veins, even if it’s not enough and not the right person’s fingers and Charles is still missing Edwin’s touch in a way that is starting to border on physical pain. Every day seems to make it worse by now, but Charles has borne pain before, and he will do it again without questions if this is what Edwin wants.

The braids must look ridiculous, but all in all, it was definitely worth it, if only for Crystal bursting out laughing at the sight of him.

“Charles?”, Edwin asks from behind where he is sitting; when Charles turns around, Edwin is standing there, holding a small jar of moss that Charles had brought back from a market ages ago, looking at him with wide eyes. “What on Earth is on your head?”

“You like it?”, Charles asks, grinning already; he’ll never know how he looks, but that’s okay if something so small as a couple of braids could make the three people he cares about most in the world happy. “Niko put them in there. Including the bows and the plastic bead things.”

“In fact, I do not like them at all”, Edwin says, but he is starting to smile, even if he is still trying to contain it. “They’re quite atrocious. A crime, I would even venture to say.”

“A crime?”, Charles asks, shaking his head just enough so he can feel the braids moving; finally, Edwin breaks, laughing in that soft, sweet way of his that only seems to come out when they are alone. “What against? I did allow her to do this, you know?”

And Edwin raises his hand, like he wants to touch the plastic clips, or maybe even Charles’ hair, and it’s like time slows down because suddenly Charles craves it so much it’s like the taste of metal on his tongue, the burning of a fever underneath his skin. He can almost feel it, Edwin’s fingertips brushing across his forehead as he takes one of the beads, his touch so familiar and yet so missed, his -

Edwin drops his hand and his smile again, looking out of place all of a sudden.

“A crime… a crime against your face”, he stutters out and Edwin never stutters; he turns around and leaves and this time, Charles is too dumbfounded, too confused to even follow.

“Can we go get some coffee?”, Niko asks as they are strolling through London. She’s all in yellow today, making her look like a literal ray of sunshine, and Charles is glad for it; he needs it.

Edwin has been strange ever since the incident with the braids, if possible avoiding Charles’ touch even more than before, and while Charles had just been confused by it up until now, he’s starting to become worried. Especially since it’s not just the touches, it’s how Edwin acts around him in general. Like he is worried what he will say, or what Charles will say, and never in all the thirty-odd years they have known each other has Edwin ever been like this. Not around Charles, at least.

“Yes, sure”, he answers before the others can; back when he was alive he never liked coffee, but he knows that Niko does, something about the Japanese schooling system requiring large amounts of caffeine. “Over there?”

He points at a Pret A Manger on the corner, but Niko pulls a face and points to another, slightly more pretentious looking cafe two streets down. Charles doesn’t know the difference, but Crystal seems to, because she nods excitedly.

“I love Black Sheep Coffee, have you ever had one of their cinnamon rolls?”, she asks and just like that, the girls are off, caught up in a world that Charles cannot enter anymore, and while he does miss eating and drinking, he can’t find it in himself right now to mind it. At least it forces Edwin to talk to him.

“They seems to be having fun”, Charles remarks, just to get some kind of conversation going, but Edwin just hums at that, and then something happens that Charles hadn’t expected anymore.

The hem of Edwin’s sleeve brushes against the back of his hand, something Edwin doesn’t seem to notice at all, but the sad, empty facsimile of touch runs through Charles like a lightening bolt, leaving his mind empty and desperate, and although he finally has Edwin to himself again, he can’t find a single thought to say.

Crystal gets a pistachio latte, they are told, while Niko is nursing the single biggest cup of black, iced coffee Charles has ever seen, and they look happy, while Charles is still rattled, both by the touch and by how much it affected him, by what it means. Weeks ago, he would not even have noticed it, and yet the brush of cotton, something he cannot even feel in the true sense of the world, just knows it’s there, can now undo him like this.

Just how long has it been since Edwin has truly touched him, allowed himself to be touched?

“Did anything happen while we were gone?”, Crystal asks and Charles isn’t sure if it is because she can sense the tension between them, or just so, but he shakes his head anyway.

“Not really”, he tells the girls, and feels like he is lying to them for the very first time. “Very uneventful, us.”

It gets better over the next few days, which is a relief, even if Charles is still not sure why it had gotten worse in the first place. But he thrives on it anyway, treasures the first smile Edwin gives him like he had the very first one from three decades ago, stuffs the first affectionate eye roll into the depths of his heart and the crevices of his mind, holds the little well done, Charles Edwin mutters in the palms of his hands until they are back at the agency, turns it around and around until he has absorbed its glow.

There are no touches still, but it’s something, and as much as Charles craves more, he’ll take whatever he can get.

Another thing: now that he is not getting to touch Edwin any longer, Charles is twice as aware of everyone else Edwin touches.

It’s not a lot of people, but not too long ago it had only been Charles, and as horrible, as mean and as selfish as it feels, part of Charles misses it, almost as much as he misses the feeling of Edwin’s thumb brushing across the back of his foot, the rest of his fingers carelessly circling his ankle, like that is where they belong.

The thing about touch is that it works so differently now that he is dead.

When he touches Crystal or Niko, or one time, even Jenny, it’s like he feels it in his head; there is pressure and his nerves are firing although there is nothing there to feel. It’s better with other ghosts, less static and more like a memory of a sensation.

It’s different with Edwin.

It makes sense, because Edwin is different, Edwin means more to Charles than anyone else ever will, but it’s also just because Edwin’s touches have always, from the very start, felt the most real of all of them. Not quite like Charles remembers it feeling when he was still alive, but close enough that sometimes, he forgets that something is missing at all.

And maybe that’s why that now that he isn’t touching Charles anymore, it almost feels like dying all over again.

“That was quite an astute observation”, Edwin tells Crystal, and there was a time not too long ago when Charles would have been proud of him for it, but now the only thing he sees is Edwin’s hand on Crystal’s shoulder, the only thing he can think of how much he wishes it was his shoulder instead.

Crystal, Niko and Jenny are having a girls’ night, watching a show called Love Island and the two of them have been expressly uninvited (“You would hate it, Edwin”, Crystal tells them, crossed arms and an expression on her pretty face that doesn’t allow for disagreement. “And you, Charles, you might end up liking it too much.”) so it’s just Edwin and him in the agency. Usually, Charles wouldn’t give the fact a second thought, because that is how it has been for more than half of his existence, but nowadays, every opportunity to be alone with Edwin is rife with tension, with hope and with the craving brewing under Charles’ skin, the hunger that is getting harder and harder to contain.

He’s sorting through the contents of his backpack, but less because it needs sorting and more to give himself a reason not to join Edwin on the sofa. Not because he doesn’t want to, he is aching for it, but to prevent himself from doing something stupid, something like moulding his body against Edwin’s side and pressing as close to him as their spectral forms allow, like begging Edwin to at least lay a hand on his knee as they are sitting next to each other.

“Charles?”, Edwin calls out to him and pulls him from his thoughts with a single word. “Shouldn’t you be quite finished with the backpack by now? Or is there something you need assistance with?”

It’s so kind, it’s so Edwin, it’s so how they have always been, and when Charles looks up at him from where he is sitting on the floor, something hits him that feels like nostalgia, like loss, like desperation.

“Nah, mate”, he says and forces a smile onto his face, even if it feels like lying, too. “It’s all good, just trying out a few new placements.”

And he thinks about crawling over and hugging Edwin’s legs, pressing his face against his kneecaps, resting his head in his lap and finally finding peace.

Edwin holds out his hand and Charles puts the spanner he is looking for into it; for a moment, a split second, Charles fingertip brushes against his palm, and it takes all the strength Charles possesses for him not to grasp Edwin’s hand between his and never let go again.

Niko is a bright spot of colour in their otherwise slightly dreary office, illuminating the room although rain is pounding against the windows, the sky so dark it might as well be nighttime. She’s cradling a cup of tea in her hands, listening intently to what Edwin is telling her.

“...it turned out to be a mirage completely! A good one, I have to admit. It was only because Charles came up with the idea of using a mirror that we realised it. Even if he was a little proud of himself, it was quite a genius idea”, Edwin explains the Great Fae Chase of 2006, and Charles should jump in and offer some opinion of his own, maybe some background information, but he can’t.

Because Niko is sitting next to Edwin on the sofa, and her delicate little hand is resting on his knee like it is meant to be there, her head on his shoulder, and Charles’ palm is burning up with jealousy, his head too heavy with need.

“Are you missing something?”, Niko wants to know later, apropos of nothing, and it hurts and it stings that it must be so obvious and yet Edwin doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe just doesn’t care enough to do something about it. Because if someone knows how tactile Charles is, it’s Edwin, isn’t it?

“Yeah”, he answer, because he wouldn’t know how to deny it, not when asked so directly.

Niko just looks at him for a moment, then takes his arm and cuddles up against him; it’s everything Charles needs and yet not enough.

“I hope you find it”, she tells him, and Charles knows she means it, knows that it’s nothing either of them can influence.

“Me too, Niko. Me too.”

It’s just that everything that Edwin does now is overlayed by a layer of longing to the point where Charles catches himself staring at Edwin in the breaks between conversations, the space between words, the quiet hours when the girls have gone back to their respective homes.

Even before this, Charles was always aware of Edwin, how he looked and the sway of his walk, the elegance of his gestures and the nuances of his expressions. Only that now it’s like Charles cannot look away sometimes, the longing that is burning across his skin so vicious that it feels like looking at Edwin is the only balm that makes it bearable. Because watching Edwin is the closest he can get to physical touch.

And Edwin, well. Edwin is easy to watch. There is grace to every of his motions, beauty in every slope, every plane, every curve of his features, and Charles knows that the affection, the devotion he holds for Edwin is tinting his vision; it doesn’t matter. Edwin is handsome, but he is beautiful in Charles’ eyes, above all other beings.

So, Charles watches Edwin hold his notebook while he writes in it and traces the tendons that move underneath his skin with his eyes, wishing he could follow them with his fingertips instead. He takes in the gentle slope of his shoulders and wishes he could rest his head against it until the memory of doing so is suffocating him, choking him with a need that feels almost visceral. He watches the shadows play across Edwin’s cheekbones at night when the only light left are a few candles they have lit and he wants to reach out and feel them on Edwin’s skin as well.

Charles watches and he watches and he watches until his fingers are burning with the need to reach out. He doesn’t.

“Are you quite alright?”, Edwin asks at night and Charles wants to say no, wants to beg for a single brush of his hand, but whatever has made Edwin withdraw from him like he has must be big, must be important enough to change their dynamic completely. And if Edwin doesn’t want to touch him, then Charles won’t force him to.

So, he answers, “Of course, mate. Everything’s brills.”

And smiles.

Edwin is talking, explaining something about a case, or a spell, or something completely different, and Charles is trying to listen, but his gaze is fixed on Edwin’s lips instead, barely hearing a word that is falling from them.

Because Edwin’s lips are blushed pink and look soft as they wrap themselves around the vowels, the tip of his tongue peeking from between them occasionally, and Charles wants to trace them, wants to kiss them and lick into Edwin’s mouth, nip at them until they are red and plump with all the love Charles has for him.

The thought comes so naturally that Charles doesn’t even notice it at first, because its flavour, its longing has become so familiar within these last weeks, but then Edwin pauses for a second, and in that break between words, Charles thinks of teasing Edwin’s lips open with his tongue, and…

Oh.

For a moment, Charles wonders if it just the fact that he wants Edwin to touch him so badly by now, because that need is burning under his skin like nothing ever has before, but then Edwin’s lips wrap around an o, part again for a th and no, it’s different.

He wants Edwin’s fingers stroking his hair because it makes him feel calm and loved, he wants to rest his head on Edwin’s shoulder because it makes every burden easier to bear, he wants Edwin to hug him like he used to, stilted at first, with all his heart once he has gotten used to it, because it’s the place in the world Charles feels safest, cradled in Edwin’s arms.

But he wants to kiss Edwin because… because he wants to kiss Edwin.

It’s a new feeling, utterly unfamiliar and yet one that feels like the most natural extension to the love he has felt for Edwin for more than three decades. It’s new, but it feels vast enough to be mistaken for something ancient; a potential finally fulfilled, an eternal maybe that Charles had not been aware of, but that fills his chest now, pumps through his spectral veins like lifeblood, chanting yes, yes, yes.

The realisation is a supernova, filling him with something almost indistinguishable from bliss, because when he was telling Edwin that they would figure the rest out, this is what he had been hoping for. That one day, he would look at Edwin and feel his metaphorical heart speed up; that Edwin would let Charles take him out on date after date until he could look at him and say, yes, I know the answer now and the answer is yes, always yes. That he would be able to fall in love with Edwin in return.

Because Charles loving him back would make Edwin happy and Edwin’s happiness is the single most important thing in the world; because what would be a greater gift than loving Edwin in yet another way?

The words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said out-loud, because even if Charles doesn’t know if he can say I love you and mean it in every way yet, he could say I want to love you and it would be the truth, could say I will love you and I am going to love you forever, and it would be just the same thing.

And he wants to say those words almost as much as he wants to touch Edwin, almost as much as he wants to kiss him.

And that is what stops him in the end.

Because Edwin doesn’t want to touch him.

Charles knows him too well to think that Edwin’s feelings towards him have changed, because if there is one thing Edwin is, it’s stable, it’s safe, and there is no way Edwin would have confessed his feelings if he he hadn’t been sure of them. But Charles… he doesn’t know if he could take it to tell Edwin he wants him and not have it be sealed with a kiss; at the same time, he doesn’t know if he could take it if their kiss was something that Edwin didn’t want, that he was not burning up for like Charles is, now.

So he swallows the words down, and forces himself to look away from Edwin’s pretty, pretty lips and keeps the confession he wants to make so much for later.

“Edwin, is this the- ah fuck!”, Crystal starts and almost drops a priceless glass chalice which had been used for blood rituals in ancient times; Edwin is there to catch it before Charles can. Crystal tries to do the same, and Charles watches as their fingers brush and he didn’t know it could be worse than it had been, but it is.

It’s the smallest touch, and he knows it, but it makes him want to scream, both in desperation and jealousy and to just get those words out, which he is keeping locked away in his heart.

Crystal doesn’t seem to notice the contact, and why should she?

It’s only Charles who would be willing to sell half his soul to feel Edwin’s hands in his.

Almost it feels like there is a switch in his brain that has been flipped, because it’s late at night and Edwin is sitting on the sofa with yet another book in his elegant, long-fingered hands and Charles has organised and re-organised his backpack so many times he is starting to become confused by its content’s placements, has sorted through their gallery of magical objects, has re-wrapped the handle of his cricket bat four times within a month and a half.

There is no excuse left he can find to keep himself from the temptation that is sitting close to Edwin, so he picks up a book whose contents he won’t remember, and joins Edwin like he used to.

Edwin looks up at him for a moment, an easy smile on his lips, and the switch has been flipped, because Charles thinks I want to touch you so bad, thinks, I want to kiss you so bad, thinks please tell me you will let me one day, thinks I can’t take this, thinks please, thinks please, thinks please.

Crystal takes him aside one morning, just grabs him by the arm and drags him through the door and into the small park close to their agency. She doesn’t say a word, but something about her demeanour makes it impossible for Charles to ask what is going on.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, actually?”, she asks suddenly, spinning around to face Charles. There’s no anger in her face, even if there is some seeping into her voice; she looks worried, mostly, looks confused.

“What?”

“There is something wrong with you”, she repeats, pushing a hand through her hair. “Look, I don’t know you as well as Edwin does, but I know that something is wrong and I don’t think you are doing anything to fix it. And you should. Because we’re worried, I am worried, Niko is worried, even Jenny is worried. Edwin is definitely worried. So could you please either tell us so we can do something about it, or fix it yourself?”

He can’t.

Yet, the words keep echoing in his mind every time he looks at Edwin and his brain goes blank because of how overwhelming the need to touch him is.

Fix this.

But there is nothing to fix, because nothing has broken between them, it’s just that Edwin doesn’t want to be touched any longer, and Charles has to respect that and hold out as long as he can before he breaks down and begs for a brush of Edwin’s hand, which feels like it might be any day now.

And it can’t be something that hurt Edwin into not allowing himself to be touched at all, because he hugged Niko three days ago, let his hand brush against Crystal’s just this morning, so it’s nothing that Charles can attack with a bat and a well-timed swing.

It’s just Charles, who is the problem. Who he doesn’t want to touch. Who he has been acting strange around sometimes, like there is some kind of tension between them that Edwin won’t address.

It’s just Charles.

It’s just-

Oh no.

Anything.

Anything but that.

They have never had a fight since they met, yet there was one time in 1994 when Charles had said something stupid (in hindsight, he cannot even remember what, only knows that back then, he should have cut his tongue out instead of saying it, it would have hurt less), Edwin had stormed out of the agency and had not come back for five days.

It had been the worst five days of Charles’ existence, and yet, most definitely, five days of torture he had deserved.

Afterwards, they had never talked about it, just going back to the way they were before, but Charles had never forgotten the sound of the door being slammed shut, of sitting there, on their sofa, waiting and waiting and waiting, alone and desperate and forgotten.

Although it’s torture, Charles waits until the girls have left for the night, because even if he wants to break down in front of Edwin and beg for his forgiveness the second he realises, he can’t bring them into it.

So, he waits for the door to click closed, waits for Edwin to turn around, and there are tears gathering in his eyes before Charles has even said the first word.

“I’m sorry”, he chokes out and the words are wet and hideous, a disguised sob, and the tears spill, but Charles’s hands are trembling so much he doesn’t dare raise them to wipe them away. “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what I did, but if I could, I’d undo it in a heartbeat. I’m so, so sorry, Edwin, I never-”

“Charles, what has happened? Are you alright?”, Edwin interrupts him and he sounds terrified; he takes a step forward, reaching out for a moment before he snatches his hand back, and Charles’ heart breaks like it has never broken before.

Whatever he did, it must have been so momentous, so terrible, and yet he never realised it, too caught up in his own craving, his own hunger, that he never even stopped to consider that he might deserve all of it. For what could be a crime more fitting of any kind of punishment than hurting Edwin?

“No”, he sobs, clenching his fists around the hems of his sleeves because even now, he wants nothing more than to reach out and cling to Edwin. How selfish, how despicable, how utterly undeserving of Edwin’s love, his affection. “Of course not. I hurt you and I don’t even remember it. Just tell me what I can do to fix it, I’ll do anything, just let me try.”

“What? You haven’t done anything. You’re scaring me, Charles”, Edwin tries, and his voice trembles, but Charles can hardly hear his words, because his hand twitches again like it wants to reach out, but Edwin keeps it firmly at his side, leaving Charles alone and desperate and forgotten.

It sends a fresh wave of tears down his face, hot and damning, because whatever Charles has done must have been so terrible that Edwin cannot even speak it out-loud.

“I did!”, he insists and it hurts, everything hurts. “You won’t touch me anymore, not even a little, and I am so sorry it took me so long to realise it, but I am so, so sorry, please just tell me what to do, because I can’t take it anymore, it’s driving me insane-”

He’s still so selfish, asking for forgiveness for his sake and not Edwin’s, and it’s no wonder Edwin doesn’t want to touch him any longer, who would?

Edwin looks at him like he has been struck, his eyes so wide and pained that Charles can make it out even through his tears, and yet, Charles’ hands plead to hold him; he just grips his sleeves tighter, burrowing his nails so deep into his palms he would draw blood even through the fabric; he’d deserve it, too.

“Please. Just tell me. Or if you don’t want to do that, tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“I-”, Edwin stutters, and Charles has to look away from him before he begs him for something he doesn’t deserve to ask for anymore. “Charles, you didn’t do anything wrong. I thought – I didn’t want to touch you lest I make you feel uncomfortable. With my… feelings out in the open, I didn’t want to presume you would still want to continue with the same kind of physical affection as before.”

It must be an excuse, because there is no universe out there in which Charles would ever want Edwin to touch him less, and Charles looks up to to tell Edwin just that, beg him to please just tell him what he did wrong so he can try and earn Edwin’s forgiveness, but then Edwin takes another step forwards and…

… and hugs Charles.

Hugs him like Charles has dreamed of for weeks and weeks now, with Edwin’s arms firm and secure around his waist, the point of his chin digging into Charles’ shoulder, their bodies pressed as close as physics will allow them.

It feels like nothing Charles has ever felt before.

It feels undeserved and tainted and like something Charles should not be allowed to sink into, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks until they blot out the world; it feels like heaven and it feels like a ray of sunshine after a week of rain and most of all, it feels like finally, finally being home.

Edwin shuffles them over to the sofa, never letting go of Charles, even though his tears are soaking into Edwin’s suit, potentially ruining the fabric. They keep coming, too, even while Edwin guides him down onto his lap, shifting and rearranging limbs until they are so intertwined that Charles cannot make out where he ends and Edwin begins, whispering sweet nothings against his temple, into his hair.

And it takes time, might take hours until Charles can believe it, but Edwin wouldn’t hold him like this if he had committed an inexcusable crime, wouldn’t stroke his hands down Charles’ back if he felt repulsed by him, wouldn’t press the softest, the sweetest kiss to his forehead if he didn’t think Charles deserved the affection.

It dries his tears, even if slowly, and when the sun has already started to rise, Edwin pulls back a little; Charles has to hold back the whine that is threatening to spill from his lips.

“Charles”, Edwin says so softly it feels like a caress, feels like the fingers that are tracing his spine. “You have done nothing wrong. Will you believe me, please?”

And Charles nods, even if the guilt still lingers on the outskirts of his mind, etched in there by hours of mindless terror, but Edwin’s responding smile lets it melt away a little more, a glacier warmed by a supernova.

“There’s nothing that I want more than to touch you”, Edwin continues, and his smile becomes wry, like he is confessing something, like it is something he thinks he might be ashamed of. “If anything, it’s me, who wants to touch you more.”

Which is laughable, because Charles is here, in Edwin’s arms, soaking up every inch of contact between them like a dying flower would soak up water, sunlight. It’s him who has been starving for the lightest brush, the most fleeting of contacts for weeks now. So, he shakes his head, sending his last remaining tears flying; Edwin laughs at it, fond but still disbelieving, before he raises a hand to wipe away the remnants of wetness from his cheeks.

Charles shivers at the touch, almost turns his head to press a kiss to Edwin’s palm.

“I’m the one who is love with you, remember?”

He says it like it’s an irrefutable fact, and it warms Charles’ heart from the inside, makes it grow until it is pushing against his ribs, trying to get even closer to Edwin, to make him see just how much love it holds for him.

And from one moment to another, the words, the ones he had swallowed down before, are back on his lips, begging to take flight.

“I love you”, Charles says and lets them, although his voice is rough and torn up, and Edwin smiles again, but not in the way Charles needs him to.

“I know”, he says, but Charles shakes his head again, because he doesn’t, and making Edwin understand is the most important thing in the world all of a sudden.

Because while he wouldn’t have been able to say the words and mean them completely before, he can do so now, he realises with a start, because Edwin is holding him like he is precious, touching him like it is an honour and not a chore, and Charles would walk to the end of the Earth for a single kiss from his lips, would rip his heart from his chest to lay it at Edwin’s feet if he thought it might make him smile.

“I love you”, he repeats, voice breaking from crying, from how much he means this and how much he needs Edwin to know. “I’m in love with you. I didn’t want to tell you before, because I didn’t know if you would want to kiss me. And I wasn’t sure if I could do it without kissing you.”

Everything between them stops, the world itself might stop, because Edwin’s eyes widen and there is the light of every sun in the universe captured in them, and God, Charles never wants to stop looking at him, never wants to be apart from him for more than a second.

“I do”, Edwin finally says, after an eternity has passed, and he sounds breathless, sounds hopeful, sounds so happy it makes Charles’ heart flow over with it. “Want to kiss you, that is.”

“Although I look like this?”

And Edwin laughs at that, eyes sparkling and the hand he has on Charles’ back pulling him closer by a fraction of an inch; it sets Charles’ skin aflame like nothing else ever has, like nothing but Edwin’s touch ever will.

“Always, Charles. You could be smeared in blood and dirt and I would want to kiss you.”

Edwin looks like he means it and Charles has never wanted anything more; he leans in and Edwin does the same and there is a breathless, timeless second, then their lips meet and they are as soft as Charles imagined them to be, taste like love and springtime and bluebells and happiness.

On his back, Edwin’s fingers twitch, trying to pull him closer still, and Charles goes willingly, licks into Edwin’s mouth and tastes the happiness there, too, tastes the love. Writes his affection onto Edwin’s lips with every motion, spells it out with little nips of his teeth, promises that it is forever with every sigh that spills between them

And when tears spill down his cheeks this time, his hands are trembling so much Charles wouldn’t be able to wipe them away, but it doesn’t matter anymore; he reaches out and holds onto Edwin instead.

[lesbiannieism]

also consider - charles treating falling in love with edwin like a healing journey

since the day they met, edwin has been charles’ safe space. but any love that may have existed between was kept out because it was quite literally beaten into charles by his father that it was wrong - it feels unsafe. but hearing edwin tell him he loves him, the courage it must’ve taken edwin to confess that truth, it’s so meaningful to charles. it inspires him and it makes him love edwin even more so he resolves to confront his own fear, his own trauma, and to discover what he really feels deep down

some of it is new - he allows himself do things he had never done before, things he had always pulled back from. he lets his hand brush against edwin’s when they walk together, lets a small smile take over his face instead of pulling his hand back and apologizing. he lets himself reach over and card his fingers through edwin’s hair, feels his heart flutter at the sight of that usually-perfect hair getting a bit ruffled, feels it flutter even more when edwin lets out a small, contented sigh (and oh boy that was a sound charles would treasure forever - he would keep it in a little nook in his heart right next to all the other things he loved about edwin). he would let himself compliment edwin with a sincerity that he usually hid beneath casual teasing (and wow that shy little smile edwin gave him when charles complimented his quick thinking on a case was quite possibly the most beautiful thing in the world)

but more than that, charles found himself renaming and reevaluating the things that had already existed between them for decades.

that little thrill that ran down his spine when edwin arched a judgemental eyebrow at him? maybe that wasn’t just satisfaction for eliciting a reaction from his stoic friend. maybe that was more like the feeling little boys get when they tug on little girls pigtails. maybe that’s the pleasure of getting the attention of the person whose attention he wants more than anyone else’s.

the gravitational pull he felt towards edwin, urging him to touch the other boy if at all possible? maybe that wasn’t because he was so concerned with keeping edwin safe. maybe he doesn’t need to make excuses - maybe he wants to touch edwin just because he wants to. maybe the urge to grab his hand or wrap an arm around his waist or hug him from behind simply comes from the fact that charles likes the feeling of having edwin close.

that awed feeling he gets whenever edwin starts to ramble about archaic runes or aramaic syntax? he had always just chalked that up to edwin being so incredibly smart - anyone would be blown away listening to him talk. anyone would be able to spend hours listening to him talk simply because he’s brilliant. but maybe that’s not true; jenny and crystal seem to have no trouble cutting edwin off and telling him to cut to the chase. they don’t seem to be fascinated by the endless brilliance of edwin payne’s mind. so maybe, charles realizes, it’s more like how his cousin used to listen to his girlfriend go on and on about the relative merits of common and civil law (which, personally, charles would rather saw his ears off than have to listen to). maybe part of it was awe at edwin’s brilliance, while part of it was simply affection for this smart, passionate boy

the feeling of contentment he gets whenever he looks over and sees edwin engrossed in a book? maybe that’s how his parents feel about their tea and telly and biscuits. maybe that’s reveling in the simplicity of having someone to share your life (or rather, your existence) with. maybe it’s knowing that he doesn’t just want edwin around for the big adventures - he wants to share the mundane, boring, everyday things with him too

that feeling of relief that washes over him every time he wakes up and sees that edwin is still there? edwin usually prefers to stay up and read while charles chooses to sleep, and though he would never admit it, even after all these years he’s scared that one day he’ll wake up and edwin won’t be there anymore. and yes, part of it is the fear that someone or something will come to drag edwin back to hell while charles isn’t able to protect him. but he’s not only scared for edwin - he’s scared for himself. he’s scared that he will wake up and edwin will be gone and he’ll be all alone. but it isn’t just the fear of loneliness - he couldn’t possibly imagine doing what he does with anyone other than edwin, and he can’t bear the thought of moving on to any sort of afterlife without edwin by his side because fuck he loves him so much.

maybe charles doesn’t have to fall in love with edwin. maybe he just has to realize that he’s already fallen in love with edwin over and over again every day for the last 30 years. maybe, now that he’s starting to acknowledge how much his father’s abuse still affects him to this day, he needs to work through how that abuse has shaped his relationship with edwin. and he decides to open up to edwin about this - tells him that he’s been filtering his feelings through a lens his father would approve of and he wants to stop doing that. he starts to tell edwin everything that he’s thinking - tells him that he loves the way he could talk for hours about the things he loves. tells him about his fears of edwin disappearing while he sleeps. tells him how cute it is when he huffs in annoyance after a particularly obnoxious potential client leaves. he tells edwin when something between them feels wrong or scares him, and together they work through which feelings actually belong to charles and which ones come from the ghost of his father. maybe together, they learn what love really means

Consider this: Charles treating falling in love with Edwin like an adventure.

Charles purposefully watching Edwin in his normal day-to-day so he can find the moments where he feels something more, taking Edwin on walks so they can talk about their feelings and hopes and expectations, trying to be closer physically as well as emotionally.

Charles being giddy and excited and overjoyed when he looks at Edwin one day and feels his heart seizing up, and having to tell Edwin about it immediately, because isn't this great? He couldn't say he was in love with Edwin back on the stairway to hell, but he's getting closer every day.

Charles wanting to fall in love with Edwin with the earnest intensity of someone who has loved Edwin in every other way for three decades.

And Edwin, who considered his feelings for Charles an affliction he should apologise for, watching this ray of human sunshine being absolutely overjoyed by slowly reciprocating his feelings and the opportunity to love him back.