#love that charlie's literally turning away from nick. like he's so expressively telling him to NOT GO THERE

[toneelspeelster]

i really want you to talk to someone.

[avonne-writes]

The Path Ahead

Pairing: Nick/Charlie

Word count, rating: 5500, Explicit

Summary: Second times can be just as nerve-wracking as losing your virginity. 

Link to the AO3 post

On the Monday after, Charlie has the paranoid feeling that everyone can tell that he and Nick did it over the weekend. It's nonsense, he knows, but he can't help folding in on himself a little, trying to appear as insignificant as possible. Is he walking in a weird way? He hopes not. Now that he has done it, he doesn't understand boys like Marcus from Nick's year who keep boasting about their escapades, real or not. True, one part of him is dying to talk about it with someone, but he'd literally combust from embarrassment if he had to announce it to the class.

He walks into form with his head down, with barely a mumbled greeting to the people who are already there. He feels self-conscious and awkward, but all that flies out the window when his eyes meet Nick's.

"Hi." Nick beams at him as Charlie sits down, and Jesus Christ, this is terrible, it's physically painful not to cuddle him on the spot. If he thought that losing his virginity would quell the longing in his chest, he thought wrong. He doesn't think he has ever wanted Nick more. 

"Hi-i." He stammers, then immediately wishes he could slap his forehead without raising questions. Stumbling on a bloody greeting, can this get any worse?

It can, he finds out a second later, because Nick leans into his space and asks, his ears tinged red, "Can I give you a kiss?"

Charlie opens and closes his mouth. "Why?"

"Just…" Nick presses a fingertip to the back of Charlie's hand. "I want to?"

Sounds like a good enough reason to Charlie. He tilts his chin up. "Okay."

It's not like people don't already know, but it's still strange to be affectionate in public, even if it's little more than a peck that Nick lays on his lips. There are always boys who stare - either out of curiosity or disgust, Charlie can't tell. He hopes it's not the latter. 

When Nick pulls back, they both turn to their work and do some half-hearted scribbling, but Charlie's attention keeps slipping. To Nick's knee brushing his under the desk. To how inviting Nick's left hand is, just lying between the two of them on the table. To Nick's lovely smell. It reminds him of Saturday evening, of Nick's naked body bracketing his and his… No. That's not the kind of thing he should let his mind wander to in class. He should focus on his equations.

Not that he lasts until the bell. After what seems like an eternity of fighting himself, he gives up and glances at Nick from the corner of his eye. Nick's gaze stays on his notebook, but his lips wobble into a smile.

"Stop it." Charlie whispers through a suppressed grin. "You're going to give us away."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replies. 

They fall silent for a while, then a piece of paper nudges Charlie's hand. Upon looking at it, he sees Nick's handwriting.

'How are you feeling? About you know'

He rolls his eyes. 'You asked the same thing yesterday,' he writes.

There's a pause before Nick slides his reply back to Charlie. 'You could have changed your mind.'

At that, Charlie looks up. Nick stares unseeing at the class. There's palpable tension in his body, the tight set of his jaw and his bouncing knee. It's insecurity, Charlie realizes. Perhaps they should have talked more about it after they got dressed that night, but the things going through Charlie's head were so embarrassing that he kind of clammed up. Now he knows he shouldn't have, because Nick seems genuinely worried whether it lived up to Charlie's expectations or not. God, isn't Charlie an idiot for not noticing this in Nick's texts yesterday?

He jots down a quick reply before Nick thinks he's hesitating.

Nick, I loved it, okay? You were It was perfect. Stop worrying.

As Charlie watches, Nick rereads the words at least three times. When he finally looks up again, most of the tension is gone from his expression. "Just wanted to make sure. Because…" He trails off.

"I know." Charlie says quietly and presses the back of his hand to Nick's. 

Because this kind of experience stays with you. To some, it might be a scary truth. It used to frighten Charlie too for a while, that if he and Nick had sex, it would be ingrained in his mind forever as his first time. He didn't want to mess it up. Even now, just the thought of ruining it for Nick is enough to make him shudder. But it went so well for them. It was so good. He knows, without a kernel of doubt, that he will never regret it.

He smiles and wiggles one of his fingers into a gap between Nick's.

Lunch with Tao and Isaac at the picnic tables is comfortable and fun as always, but Nick doesn't join them this time and Charlie finds himself missing him like a lovesick puppy. Which he definitely shouldn't be, he's too old for that now. He and Nick are way past the honeymoon phase anyway, whatever that means. He watches the fluffy white clouds swim by in the blue sky and sighs.

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Tao mutters, exasperated. "This is unbearable. Would you just ask him if he wants to or not?"

"What?" Charlie blinks.

"He's talking about sex." Isaac says in a serene voice, thumbing to the next page in his book.

All the blood rushes to Charlie's face. "Um. Yeah. About that…"

Isaac lowers his novel and looks at Charlie with surprise. Tao continues munching on his sandwich. He must not have caught on yet.

"I, uh, kind of did it." Charlie blurts out in a rush.

"Oh, wow." Isaac raises his eyebrows, then an understanding smile takes over his face.

Tao, however, takes another casual bite. "And what did he say?"

"No, I -"

"No?"

"No, God, Tao, just let me tell the story." Charlie laughs. He runs a hand through his hair. "I told him I was ready on Saturday. At the park, you know?" Tao nods. "And he said he had been thinking about it too. A lot. And, well, his mum wasn’t home that night, so I stayed over and we - um, we thought it would be a good time to… You know.”

For a long moment that seems to last for an eternity, Tao just stares. Then, his lips drop open to form a scandalized expression. “You and Nick had sex?”

Charlie fidgets, embarrassed but at the same time, strangely proud. He chastises himself for picking up the stupid, common attitude that considers it an achievement, because it's really not. It's about being close to someone and making each other feel good. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Tao looks floored by this admission. It takes him a moment to compose himself. “I didn’t actually think you would. Not yet.”

Charlie doesn't know what to say to that. It seems as though Tao feels like something has changed, and that impression makes Charlie anxious. Especially after what happened when Tao first found out about them. It's not like he and Nick have changed, is it? There's just something else they can share now other than chaste kisses and hugs. 

He picks at a knot in the wood of the table. "We didn't plan it or anything. It just… happened. We both felt like it was a good time."

An uncomfortable silence stretches between them.

"I don't think it was too early for us. Nick is seventeen, after all…" Charlie cuts himself off awkwardly. It had nothing to do with Nick's age. He's babbling at this point. "And it's not a big deal anyway, we're still the same. We're not going to spend all our free time doing it, don't worry." 

He plasters on a weak smile, even as a blush threatens to flood his face because he would very much like to spend all his time in Nick's arms. Nevertheless, his clumsy reassurance seems to reach its goal. 

Tao snaps out of it, looking much milder already. “I guess it went well then?”

There's a ninety-five percent chance that Charlie's expression has become ridiculously smitten. He wants to gush about how sexy Nick was and how liberating it felt to open up to him like that, but he refrains from saying any of that out loud. “Yeah.”

“Good." Tao nods, straightening up. "So you can finish pining for him.”

Charlie laughs. The last of the remaining tension evaporates. “I can’t help it!” When Tao gives him a pitying look, he laughs again. "Shut up!"

Isaac shakes his head at them both.

  The following week is pure emotional turmoil. On one hand, there's a constant tendril of elation in Charlie's heart, because he has never been so mindlessly in love before and based on the heat in Nick's eyes, he's not alone. They're definitely going to have sex again. As soon as possible, he hopes. But on the other hand, the lack of opportunity frustrates him so much that he gets snappish at home and he misses a few meals because he doesn't want to fight with his mum. He becomes the textbook example of a moody teenager.

This is how Friday evening rolls around. He's flat on his back in his bed in his pyjamas, scrolling through Tumblr gloomily, when Tori leans against the doorframe of his room.

"What?" Charlie asks, because otherwise she'd just tease him with her cryptic presence. He's not in the mood to entertain her.

"Mum and Dad have taken Oliver and his friends to the cinema." She says, swirling the straw in her drink.

Charlie sits up with a jolt. His pulse races with his building excitement. Both of his parents are gone for the next few hours? Is this the miracle he needed? "I thought mum was going to stay home."

"Dad convinced her to go suffer with him." She gives Charlie a knowing look. "I thought you might want to know."

"Thanks, Tori!" Charlie beams, already texting Nick with his fingers flying over the screen in his haste to type out the message. He's sending way too many exclamation marks, but he doesn't care. 

"Are you going to ask Nick to come over?"

"Well." Charlie bites his lip to contain his giddy smile. "Yeah."

Tori's blue eyes glitter in wry amusement. “Just make sure you’re safe. And quiet.” She deadpans as she turns to leave. She probably knows, even without looking, that Charlie turns crimson at her words.

“Oh my God, go away!” Charlie groans and throws a pillow in her direction, but she's already gone. Is there anything more embarrassing than this?

Well, perhaps being walked in on would be. He shudders at the thought. Imagine if his parents came home too early while he and Nick are still… God, he definitely has to avoid that situation. He gets up to prepare.

 It's a lucky thing that the Nelsons' house is so close. Half an hour later, Nick is standing in the middle of Charlie's bedroom, smiling at him in confusion as Charlie puts some music on, then slams his door shut and drags the stool from his drum kit in front of it. He puts a box of old textbooks on it.

"What are you doing?" Nick chuckles. He's in jean shorts and a t-shirt that barely fits him anymore, stretching tight across his chest and around his arms. It must be one of those relics from his childhood that Nick's too reluctant to let go of, even though he has grown out of them. The thought makes Charlie unbearably fond.

"Making a barricade."

"Oh."

It's as though a switch has been flipped. The air between them crackles with electricity. Heat trickles down Charlie's spine. He and Nick stare into each other's eyes for a long moment, a barrage of unsaid questions flickering between them. When Charlie takes a tentative step forward, Nick combs his ginger hair back, his usual nervous tick. With a bit of hesitation, he takes a few steps too until he's standing mere inches away from Charlie. His body radiates warmth.

"Are we… going to do something that requires a barricade?" He asks quietly. His hands move to stroke Charlie's arms.

Charlie puts his palms on Nick's waist and almost groans as the muscles move under his touch. "God, I hope so."

This time, he's the one who's shaking as their lips meet. Nick slides his fingers to Charlie's cheeks and tips Charlie's head back to deepen the kiss, and there's force in it, in every brush of his tongue and the small noises that resonate in his chest. It's a passion that Charlie saw only glimpses of before, but he wants more of it. He wants to make Nick comfortable enough to show it when they're naked.

With his hands on Nick's stomach, he pushes Nick towards the bed until Nick sits down on the mattress. Nick stares up at him in wonder. He squeezes Charlie's hips, then, looking just as nervous as he was when they did this for the first time, he slides his hands down to Charlie's ass and pulls him into his lap. It draws a gasp from Charlie's lips.

"Sorry, that's too much!" Nick winces, snatching his hands away. Under the glow of Charlie's Music sign, his face turns darker from his blush.

Charlie swallows. "No." Weak from the jittery sensation in his limbs, he takes Nick's wrists and guides them to his bare thighs. "Keep going."

Nick takes a deep breath. He strokes Charlie's legs from his knobby knees to his hips, but doesn't go further again. "What do you want to do?"

Charlie's fears get the better of him. He leans down to capture Nick's lips because he doesn't dare say it out loud. It's ridiculous. They've been through this before. He could just say I want you in me, and Nick would give it to him. But he can't chase away the fear that he's going to do something wrong, that it's not going to feel good for Nick, that Nick doesn't want to do any of it after all. He's scared that he'll embarrass himself or be too eager for something only he wants. No one told Charlie that it would be just as nerve-wracking to do it for the second time. 

When does it get better? Will he ever be able to ask for what he wants without drifting to the verge of spontaneous combustion? 

Unable to articulate all this, he trails his kisses from Nick's mouth to his neck and bites down gently. His fingertips slip under Nick's shirt to caress the soft rolls of his stomach.

Nick moans. "Charlie." His grip on Charlie's legs tightens. His exhale trembles as it whistles past Charlie's ear. "Charlie."

Charlie pulls back, uncertain. "Sorry. I thought you liked that."

"I do!" Nick blurts out, then drops his forehead to Charlie's shoulder. "But my mum will figure out everything if you leave a really big mark."

"Oh."

They lapse into silence. It feels nice, even though Charlie's burning to go further. To just exist together like this will never feel like a waste of time. No matter how little of it they have. He measures his breaths to Nick's, synchronizing every inhale until it feels like their hearts beat at the same time, until their chests expand together and their love feels boundless. He keeps stroking Nick's belly and sides until Nick raises his head again. 

"Are you still feeling okay about this?" He asks Charlie with concern. "Because we don't have to do anything just for me."

Charlie frowns. "I'm fine, Nick. I swear. You don't have to ask me every time it comes up." 

Nick looks away.

It's as though a literal lightbulb switches on in Charlie's mind. 

He's such an idiot for not putting it together earlier!

He climbs off Nick's lap and pulls him down to the mattress until they're both lying on their sides, facing each other, their fingers intertwined. His sudden realization is a cold shower that turns his attention away from his own feelings to focus on Nick's expression. The wideness of his eyes, the sweat on his skin, his bitten-red mouth. How shaky he is.

“How do you feel about Saturday?” 

“Great.” Nick grins, but as Charlie watches on wordlessly, it fades, and then Nick is blushing, rolling closer until his face is once again hidden in Charlie's neck. “Just…”

“Just?”

“I don’t know.”

They pull each other into a tight hug. Although Nick hasn't said it in so many words, his behaviour is enough to confirm Charlie's suspicions. It's Nick who needs to talk about it. It's him who feels out of kilter. But in a good or a bad way? What if he never wants to have sex again? It's so easy to forget that it was his first time too. What if it wasn't how he imagined?

At long last, just as Charlie's worry begins to reach full-blown panic levels, Nick goes on.

“I’m just overwhelmed by all the things that I want now. Before, it was kind of… abstract. Now it’s all… I have too many ideas." He mumbles against Charlie's collarbone. "It’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what to do and where to start and you probably want me to make up my mind about what's next but I just don't know, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything, and -”

“Nick.” Charlie cups Nick's cheeks to look at him. "It's okay."

Nick presses their foreheads together. "I'm scared that I can't be as confident as you want me to be."

Oh. So that's it. The core of the problem. A part of Charlie relaxes, but the one responsible for his guilt goes into overdrive.

"I don't expect you to be super confident. I'm literally shaking when I think about you naked, why would I judge you for being unsure?" He rubs his thumbs back and forth over Nick's cheeks and smiles when Nick chuckles. "I'm sorry I didn't realize that you felt like this."

"I didn't know how to talk about it." Nick pulls back a little to look Charlie in the eye. Something passes between them - a new understanding, maybe, that it's okay to be nervous. It's okay to fumble and be confused about what you want. 

Slowly, a smile appears on Nick's flushed face. "You think about me naked?"

Charlie feels the heat of an imminent blush, but he ignores it and pulls a coy look instead. "Sometimes."

Nick shifts his lower body closer until their hips meet. They're both aroused, Charlie notes with giddy relief. "What else do you think about?"

Acting on a burst of courage, Charlie sticks his hands under Nick's shirt and starts to roll it up. "Touching you."

Nick squirms out of the garment, throwing it aside, and undoes the button of his shorts. The mark Charlie left on his neck is visible on his pale skin even in the dim light. "Where?" 

Charlie doesn't know where he finds the nerves to do it, but his hand seems to move on its own accord. Down goes Nick's zipper, and a second later, Charlie's fingers are wrapped around Nick through his underwear. Nick's cock twitches in his grip. His breathing speeds up.

"H-Here." Charlie croaks. He presses a kiss to Nick's mouth as he thumbs at the tip through the damp spot on Nick's briefs. "Is this okay?"

Nick bites his lip. He reaches for Charlie's shirt. "Yeah."

They get naked with only some minimal fumbling on Charlie's part, thank God, and then Nick draws him into his arms, manhandling him until he's draped over Nick's chest. They make out for long, lazy minutes, until the playlist changes in the background. Their touches start out light and innocent, just caresses across shoulder blades, kisses on the jut of a collarbone, a tickling finger running down Charlie's side. When he props himself up on an elbow, Nick's eyes remain closed and the smile doesn't fade from his face. His palm is a warm weight on the small of Charlie's back. Charlie presses his lips to Nick's ear to whisper into it. 

"Do you want to tell me what you like?" He pulls back to see Nick's reaction. "Or, um, what you think you would? And we can start with that."

“All right.”

There's a pause when they're both waiting for the other to say something, then Charlie breaks into a mischievous smile. “So…”

“I like it when you touch my chest.” Nick says in a rush. Charlie's hand goes obediently to his sternum, rubbing slow circles, brushing over a nipple. Going lower and lower and lower… When he reaches Nick's belly, Nick's fingers twitch on Charlie's back. "Will you. Will you touch my hips?"

Charlie does. With his heart racing, he looks down and watches as his fingers trail down the groove of Nick's right hip, circle around his hipbone, then move slowly to the other side. He drags his blunt nails over the skin of Nick's lower belly, skirting around his achingly hard cock and touching the hair he has down there. He tries not to overthink it and just follows his instincts instead. It seems to be a good call, because he can hear how ragged Nick's breathing becomes after every shift of his hand.

"I like it when you look at me." Nick says.

"Yeah?" Charlie glances up just in time to catch the mortification in Nick's eyes before Nick covers his face with his hands. "Hey, no, don't hide." 

Charlie smiles and presses a kiss to Nick's knuckles, then his lips when Nick drops his hands. "I like what I see, so." He shrugs.

Although he still looks shy about it, Nick smiles back. "Touch me there, please?"

"Okay."

It's still an exhilarating sensation to take Nick's cock in hand. His skin is so hot to the touch and so smooth as it shifts over his hardness, Charlie doesn't know if he'll ever get enough of feeling it under his palm. He pushes his fist down and then up slowly, just getting the hang of it at first, but no matter how clumsy he is, Nick moans.

"Yes." He hisses. His lips drop open.

"Wait." Charlie doesn't think about what he's doing - he just knows his grip is too dry and his secret stash of lube is hidden behind his socks on the bottom of the drawer, too far away. He doesn't want to let go of Nick for more than a second. So, instead of acting sensible, he raises his hand and licks his palm before putting it back. 

Nick makes a helpless, stunned noise and thrusts up.

Charlie blinks. They both pause in surprise. "Um. I didn't expect that." Charlie laughs nervously. 

Even though it should be gross, he just feels turned on as he licks his hand a second time only to hear Nick whimper again. He swipes the precome from the tip of Nick's cock and spreads it over his skin with a few strokes. Soft, slick sounds join the song that drones on in the background. It's a shot of desire to Charlie's brain. 

He watches the circle of his fingers move for a while, then turns back to Nick. "Do you like this?"

Nick hums, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yeah."

"Tell me if it's getting boring, okay?"

"It's never going to get boring."

"I just don't know what else to -"

"Shh." Nick wraps his arms around Charlie's shoulders and pulls him down into a kiss, and then they have better things to do than talking for a long time. Nick's right hand keeps squeezing and releasing on Charlie's shoulder in rhythm with the strokes of Charlie's hand until Charlie speeds up to the tempo he usually likes himself. 

Nick grunts. "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?"

He makes another noise. His eyebrows are drawn together, his eyes screwed shut, his lips pressed tightly closed to keep his voice down. He thrusts into Charlie's grip for a few frantic seconds before stiffening and spilling all over his own stomach and Charlie's hand. It's the hottest thing Charlie has ever seen. Something about giving Nick this pleasure makes him feel powerful and content. Almost… desirable. It's an intoxicating feeling.

When it's over, Nick puts his own hand on Charlie's and slows the strokes down until they're just holding his cock together, flushed and amazed. "Holy shit." He pants.

Charlie laughs. "I guess that was good then?" 

"I guess." Nick laughs back, and they share a long, drawn-out kiss again. When Nick's breathing returns to normal, he nips at Charlie's lower lip and sits up to push Charlie on his back. "Your turn."

Charlie tenses up. "You don't have to."

Nick climbs over him and kisses a path down his neck. "Char, do you think I only want to have sex with you for my own pleasure?" 

"I don't know." Charlie mumbles, eyes averted. He's too self-conscious for this, to have Nick's undivided attention focused on his body and on his enjoyment alone. It's… too much. He feels like he can't have it.

Halfway down Charlie's torso, Nick pauses. He gives Charlie a stricken look. "Come on."

Charlie combs his fingers through Nick's hair. A 'sorry' is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. "Fine, I'll try to relax."

When Nick kisses his stomach again, he frowns at the ceiling. "What are you doing?"

Nick scoots back up to lean over Charlie's head and give him a sheepish look. "I - tell me if you'd rather I not, but - I want to put my mouth on you."

"Oh, God." Charlie's going to die.

Nick moves down along his body again, leaving warm, sticky kisses all over Charlie's skin, on the lines of his scars, on the sharp outline of his ribs, everywhere. He strokes the inside of Charlie's left thigh. "Can I?"

A nervous laugh escapes Charlie's throat. "Yes. Yes, of course."

He can hear Nick take a deep breath, then - Oh.

It's warm. That's the first coherent thing he can think of beyond mindless pleasure. Nick's mouth is so very warm and wet, not like anything he has felt before. It wraps around the head of Charlie's cock and slides down a fraction before moving back up. The second try goes a bit further, the next one even more, and then Nick's tongue starts moving and Charlie completely loses it. A desperate, tingling need begins to spread through his body, and he doesn't even realize what's happening before his muscles are flexing and he thrusts up. 

Nick chokes.

"Sorry, sorry!" Charlie sits up in panic, touching Nick's shoulders as he coughs. "Are you okay?"

Nick has tears in his eyes, but he nods. His voice is hoarse. "Yeah, just give me a second…"

Charlie tugs at Nick's arms until he climbs up and lies down on Charlie. He gives Charlie an uncertain look. "Can I kiss you?"

In lieu of an answer, Charlie huffs and crashes their lips together. He can't help but try to find traces of a new taste in Nick's mouth, but there's nothing, just the usual faintly sweet flavour he's grown to love so much. He wonders if… if the taste was really bad when Nick was down there, but he doesn't dare ask. As much as he loved the sensation, he's not sure he's confident enough to go on with it.

Nick nuzzles his cheek. "Was it okay?"

"Yes. It's… It felt really good." 

"I can continue." Nick kisses his earlobe. "I kinda want to."

Charlie hesitates. He doesn't want to do something focused solely on him - no, he wants the same mutual pleasure they experienced on Saturday. He strokes Nick's back, the dip of his spine and his ass. "Do you think you can get hard again in ten minutes?"

"Uhm. Yeah." Nick laughs as if it's a ridiculous question. Which… well, fair enough. "Why?"

"I'm too embarrassed to say it."

Nick cups Charlie's face to look at him with his earnest brown eyes. "You can tell me anything."

After a moment of searching Nick's expression, Charlie manages to say it out loud. "I want to go all the way again."

Nick's exhale rushes out of him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Funnily enough, they make a bigger mess with the prep than they did a week ago. Charlie doesn't know how he's going to explain the state of his sheets to his mum - he hopes for the sake of all parties affected that he can smuggle them into the washing machine before she gets home. Otherwise, he'll have to pour some juice on them to make up a plausible excuse.

Nick is just as gentle as he was last time. He gets them there quite quickly too, even though his fingers are thick and a little bit clumsy sometimes. He rolls the condom on with ease this time, but when Charlie gives him a look, he laughs and admits he practiced it all week.

"It's not funny!" He smiles when Charlie starts giggling. "I was so embarrassed last time."

"You're such a dork." Charlie says and gives him a sloppy kiss. 

"Do you think we could, uh…" Nick mumbles against his lips. "...try a different position?"

Charlie's eyes widen. His heartbeat accelerates again. "Okay. What position?"

Nick turns beet red. "Like. With me behind you?" He clears his throat. “Spooning, I guess.” 

That's… not something Charlie has seen before when he ventured onto sites he probably shouldn't have and none of the gay sex guides he read mentioned it. He wonders if Nick just came up with the idea on his own or if he did a more thorough research than Charlie.

"Like this?" Nick says as he turns Charlie on his side, settles behind him and bends one of Charlie's knees. He's pressed flush to Charlie's back. His nose brushes Charlie's shoulder.

"Oh. Okay."

Nick's arm wraps around Charlie's middle. With his other hand, he guides the tip of his cock to line up. "Is this comfortable?"

"Yes."

“Can I…?”

“Yeah.”

Charlie can hear and feel the breath Nick takes as he pushes in. It doesn't hurt this time, perhaps because of the position - there's only that sensation of unyielding pressure. Who would have thought that it could feel this divine? Charlie slides his hand down from Nick's elbow to lace their fingers together. In response, Nick kisses his shoulder.

A smile lights up on Charlie's face. "You just want to cuddle, don't you?"

Nick's hold tightens, and he starts rocking into Charlie slowly, trying to find his rhythm. "You got me." He says into Charlie's ear, and they both chuckle.

It doesn't take long to reach the peak, even though Nick can't put as much force into it in this position. They're both keyed up, and it just feels too good to hold back for a long time. The pace makes it almost unbearably sensual. In many ways, it's still new, and the unfamiliarity, the unexpectedness of Nick's thrusts and his erratic exhales all spur Charlie on. He clings to Nick's hand and turns his face into the pillow to keep quiet as Nick's hips smack against him, over and over again. His free hand finds his cock.

"Charlie." Nick moans softly into Charlie's neck.

"Me too." Charlie shudders, and less than a minute later, his release crashes into him like the wave of a tide that finally breaks the dam. His muscles clench around Nick's hand and down where he's still pushing deep inside.

"F-Fuck." Nick says in a shattered, throaty voice, and follows him over the edge.

  They're too amazed and tired to move as the afterglow begins to set in. How long have they been making love? The overload of sensations made it seem like it has been hours, but it couldn't have been, could it? For the first time in a while, Charlie thinks that Tao's reservations might have some basis, because he does completely lose his sense of time when they're together like this. He could spend his entire night having sex with Nick and he wouldn't notice that the hours are gone.

He pulls Nick's hand up to his mouth and kisses the heel of his palm. 

Nick holds him ever tighter. "Charlie, I love you."

He sounds serious. As though he's saying something different with his words - an idea neither of them can grasp yet, but one that weaves its threads through them both. The suggestion that they belong here, with each other, that age has nothing to do with commitment, that they can last. That there's a path already laid out ahead of them, one that veers off the common road. All they need to do is follow it. 

"Love you too." Charlie whispers over the sound of his heart stopping to sing butterflies.

[emzymakesbelieve]

not to be fake deep but let's talk about all your old walt babies that you haven't mentioned (because i love the hainline's okay and you and all your kids and i miss you

Send me an old muse and I’ll gush about them.

oKAY SIT DOWN AND BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS.

(I love you, too, sweet pea.  *smooch*)

Frank Hainline

So Frank is a prick, to start off, but he’s my prick and you’re not allowed to trash talk him without my say so (which of course you have because he’s A PRICK).  He was the kind of kid who wore an anarchy symbol on his jacket but never actually did anything to represent or invoke anarchy.  He’s also a gigantic slut and can’t keep his pants zipped for longer than ten minutes.  Fidelity is not this man’s middle name (*CoUgH* illegitimate child he never knew about).  He definitely wasn’t ready to become a father when Victoria got pregnant (and more or less trapped him into marriage), but by the time baby Penelope came, he devoted every ounce of energy he could to making sure she had a good life, and the two of them actually grew very close.  He passed away from cancer when Penelope was about ten.

Norma Hainline

Penelope’s eldest.  The two most important things you need to know about Norma are that she’s a dancer and she’s gay as a maypole.  Her main focuses are tap and ballet.  She loves old Hollywood - she got her start watching Singin’ in the Rain and Fred & Ginger films - but definitely prefers to live in the here and now where she can express herself both as an artist and as a lesbian.  The dance world, much as she loves it, is a crusty old institution that needs to break some pointless rules and get over itself.  She is also Grade A Mom Friend Extraordinaire™.  Her love language is definitely acts of service, particularly making sure you’re eating and sleeping well and taking your medicine on time (though turns out she’s a terrible patient herself).  Much to her frustration, her two closet friends - Noah and Nick - are both more or less bent on self destruction and driving her completely bonkers, but she loves them just the same.

Francis Hainline

Francis, the third eldest, has no business being in this family with how shy he is, but nevertheless.  Definitely the black sheep of the family, but his siblings defend and support him with everything they have.  (Well, Kath usually does it with a lot of sarcasm, but you can tell she loves him.)  He’s a total hipster and has a special love for anything that was built before the year 2000.  His prize possession is an old camcorder that uses real VHS tapes, so naturally he becomes a film student.  I envision him growing up and working as a cinematographer and eventual director of poignant indie films and documentaries - stuff with lots of lingering, fly-on-the-wall shots.  Also, special shoutout to Seraphina, the love of his got dang life.  Those two gave me so many freaking cavities with their cuteness.

Kathleen Hainline

So Kath is a mess, but that’s just par for the course in this family, I suppose.  She’s the baby of the family and has always felt like she’s living in her sister Norma’s shadow.  She’s a bit of a wild child, but certainly not to the extent Victoria was.  It’s all just a cry for attention, trust me.  She wants to feel needed, she wants to feel wanted, she wants to feel special.  And anything that takes the attention of the people she loves off of her needs to die, plain and simple.  She’s best friends with Daisy and is technically endgame with Jonas (though we really didn’t get to write them that far), so here goes a prayer candle for my lovely Becca.

Dory Novak

As you can probably guess by the name, Dory is based on that delightful blue tang we know and love.  In the Walt universe, she developed her short term memory loss after an accident that killed her parents, and was adopted by Marlin.  She loves swimming and her family and especially anything combining the two.  She’s a freaking sweetheart who is actually pretty hard on herself, and it was so heartbreaking to play her in any kind of stressful situation because five minutes later she would still be freaked out by have no idea as to why (looking at you, Scream event).  Also, Scooby liked her a lot and I felt so freaking blessed???  She ends up becoming a social worker and helping kids in the foster system like her.

Charlie Harper & Jenny Harper née Parkington

I never got to properly play Dory’s parents, but here’s the fast and skinny on them.  Jenny was a shy bookworm who never thought boys would be interested in her and (for the most part) had made peace with that theory.  Charlie was a jock who was head over heels for Jenny but never knew how to communicate it without being a sleaze.  Eventually, he manages to ask her out, she says yes, and they pretty much become attached at the hip.  She comes to his basketball games and swim meets decked out in the school colors and cheering like a maniac.  My guess is Dory came a little earlier than they were expecting, but not so early that it would be considered scandalous - probably when they were almost finished with college or something.  Dory became their world and they spoiled that little girl beyond belief.  Unfortunately, both of them were killed in a car wreck when Dory was very little.

Marlene Novak

Dory’s first kid, adopted.  To sum it up nicely, Marlene’s a hot mess because she was never able to come to terms with the fact that her birth mother didn’t want her.  I tried to start this whole plot where she ran into her birth mother just out in the wild and that made her get even messier, but I think I was just throwing crap on the fire to see what blew up at that point.  She also has a…flirtatious arrangement, shall we say, with her friend Viv.

Lyle Novak

Dory’s second kid, also adopted.  *sigh*  Lyle, Lyle, Lyle…  He’s a cutie, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like I didn’t give his character enough punch?  He just seems kind of blah now that I look back at him.  I have a history of being super self conscious about my male characters if they don’t have like a Super Archetype personality for some freaking reason, and Lyle is definitely an example of that.  He’s a little shy, but not so shy that it’s endearing, and he’s also a little courageous, but not so courageous that he actually gets crap done.  He’s a little complacent, looking back on him, which is kind of the opposite of how I wanted to play him...?  I dunno.  Maybe I’m being too harsh on myself.  HE’S CUTE.  LIFE GOES ON.

Cinderella Tremaine

To the surprise of absolutely no one, I’ve actually played a Cinderella counterpart in a few different groups, but let’s just talk about how I portrayed her at Walt.  French transfer student in America (I changed her to straight up American after a point) who loves animals arguably more than life itself and tries her best not to cry over things she can’t control.  She’s also daydreamy as FRICK.  Loves to get lost in her own imagination.  If she’s not engaged in conversation or work of some kind, I can guarantee you her conscience isn’t even on this plane.  Also, can I just shriek about the superhero AU version of her where she was a counterpart to Zatanna and literally became her own fairy godmother?  Because I think about that far more than is probably healthy.

Emmett Tremaine & Johanna Tremaine née Cartier

Same thing as Dory’s parents, just gonna give you a quick lowdown.  Johanna came from a fairly well off family in France (distantly related to those guys, but far enough away that it doesn’t really count), but her parents thought she was an absolute embarrassment.  She was never afraid to speak her mind when it came to things like etiquette and politics, and she had a fabulously wild imagination.  She never stopped believing in fairies, ghosts, gremlins, things like that.  Emmett was that quiet nerd dreamer type, very much obsessed with travel and history.  And like I need to spell it out for you, but they were LUDICROUSLY in love with each other.  Like, nauseatingly so.

Robby Tremaine

Robby is Cindy’s son I whipped up real quick one next gen when I was going crazy and wanted to snatch Nick Robinson’s beautiful face.  He’s a hardcore farm boy who doesn’t mind a little mud behind his ears and super environmentally conscious.  Not just recycling and veganism and all that, but he will go off on you about sustainable farming and animal raising, and how the hydrogen fuel cell is the way of the future.

Taige Bailey

Based on Terk from Tarzan, Taige is a super jock, total butch lesbian, and altogether DUMBNUT.  Like, GOD she’s so stupid sometimes because she just barrels into crap with reckless abandon and doesn’t think things through.  Dear God, she will PUNCH you if you so much as look at her funny, just ‘cause she feels bored.  And she walks around like she’s God’s gift to creation, but she’s just a little twerp.  But she’s my twerp.  (Huh.  I’m just now realizing how similar Taige and Pen are.  In a weird way, Taige is like the tomboy version of Pen.)  Here, you can imagine me lighting a prayer candle because I never got to play her against her two best friends and I’m SAD.  Y’ALL NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE THE TOUR DE FORCE THAT IS T CUBED.  Also *cough* she and Vitani may have had a *coUGH* flirtationship.

I would also put Taige’s parents on this list, but they’re so hardly even developed that it’s not really worth mentioning them.  I only know their names: Lamarr and April.

Jared Bailey

Taige’s only child, Jared’s still trying to figure out what masculinity means to him, what with being raised by two women and all.  He can get a little “dudebro alpha male” sometimes, but he’s also that kid you definitely want to have your back when things get rough.  He’ll help you with your homework, teach you how to shoot a three-pointer, and walk you home when it’s dark like the gentleman he is.

[monaisme]

Day 20: betrayal

Day 20: betrayal

Sam came as soon as Nick had called.

“There’s something wrong with the Spider-kid. You need to get here and fix him.”

He’d provided no additional background, save that the boy had needed the med bay for a concussion, broken forearm, multiple stitches and a few bandages.

But no one knew why. Spider-Man wouldn’t say a word.

Literally. Not. One. Word.

That had been two days ago.

Sam had come two days ago...

The first evening, he knocked on the door and waited. The medical report Nick had eventually forwarded to him as team leader hadn’t indicated any lingering concerns once they’d cleared the concussion so Peter had been released to his quarters. The fact that Peter hadn’t answered the door when he’d knocked hadn’t really shocked him. Sam knew that healing took a lot out of the kid and he’d be needing some serious rest and feeding when all was said and done. He confirmed through the compound’s new integrated AI system that Peter was alright and left him for the night.

Yesterday, Sam had shown up just before lunch with those sandwiches the kid loved from that little place in Queens. He’d knocked, and waited, and then confirmed again via the AI that Peter was in his room and awake. “Hey, Computer, can you ask the kid if he’s going to come open this door?”

The AI, not nearly as entertaining as FRIDAY had been, came back with, “Peter Parker is not responding to inquiry. Shall I continue asking until I receive a response?”

Sam left the sandwiches by the door after trying one last time. “Yo, Pete! I’ve got a sandwich for you! It may or may not have been squished for your dining pleasure.” But again, Peter didn’t answer. He eventually called out, “Pete, I’m gonna leave some food from Delmar’s outside your door for you. You don’t have to see anyone if you don’t want to, but come and grab some food to eat, okay?”

Of course, he didn’t answer.

—And when he stopped by to check in again later that evening, the paper bag still sat untouched outside his door.

“Computer,” Sam was becoming concerned. “Is Peter needing medical assistance?”

“Mr. Parker is in a comparable state to when he was released from the medical bay.”

That made Sam feel a little better... but just a little. “Has Peter left his room at all today?”

“Peter Parker has not left his quarters today, Mr. Wilson.”

“Has anyone been allowed access to Peter’s room?” He tried.

“Negative, Mr. Wilson, though no one has attempted to access these quarters.”

Sam was not okay with this. He knocked, putting all of his will and determination behind it. “Peter Parker, this is your team leader. I am ordering you to open this door, kid.”

Of course that would be the exact moment some new trainees for SHIELD walked by and started whispering about that Falcon guy banging on a door like a total asshole.

He waved them off, “Yeah, yeah, look at Falcon—“ and then mumbled the rest. “Can’t get his own Spider-recruit to open the damned door.”  

He turned to walk away, then thought of one last thing. “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna be back tomorrow morning.” He thought out his day and continued. “I’ll be here with breakfast at 9am, so be dressed, please? I really—REALLY don’t want any surprises, okay?”

The silence wasn’t a surprise.

“Computer, please set his morning alarm for 8:15am...” he huffed out a breath of frustration. “And let him know that pants are not optional.”

“Request accepted. Thank you.”

Sam headed straight to Nick Fury’s office.

* * * * * *

Sam knew that today was going to go about as well as the two previous days, and Sam was irritated. Nothing he’d read could explain what happened to Peter the day he was hurt. He’d managed to get to headquarters under his own steam, and then provided nothing save for some headshakes and nods while the medical staff treated him.

They never should have let him leave the med bay.

The silence had gone on too long. It wasn’t good for the kid. Anyone who knew him knew what a talkative little shit he was... and that was just Peter. And so, with Nick’s permission to access his personal quarters if he was denied, Sam was going to do his best to do exactly what he’d been tasked with—fix the kid.

Of course, even clutching a bag of breakfast sandwiches from that little diner a block over, Sam had been left out in the hall—again.

“Computer, unlock Peter Parker’s door. Charlie-Alpha-2-2-4-9.”

The satisfying *snick* of the door lock disengaging felt like a victory. He’d made it past the only barricade standing between him and Peter.

And then he saw Peter.

To the unobservant, it seemed that Peter had just rolled out of bed and moved to the chair in the corner. Yes, he was burritoed in his comforter but the sheets on his bed were rumpled in a way that demonstrated a long period of bed rest—for lack of a better way to describe it.

“Hey, Pete.” Sam stood just inside the suite. He may have gotten in, but he still wanted Peter to have some control. “You mind if I come in?”

Peter shrugged and Sam took it for as close to a ‘yes’ as he was going to get, so he closed the door behind and stepped in.

He waited for Peter to say something; a greeting, a ‘hey! get out,’ or anything. The quiet was unnerving.

Sam cracked first. “You’re a tough guy to get ahold of.”

Peter shrugged again, and turned his attention to the industrial grade carpet that covered all the personal quarters.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re not in the mood for a chat, Pete?” Sam tried to be humorous as he watched the boy staring out into the room.

Clumsily, thanks to the cast on Peter’s right arm, the boy got up and turned the chair to face the window then dropped right back into it.

“Aaaaaand that would be a no. Got it, kid.” He smiled, even though Pete wasn’t watching.  “You know, it’s a good thing I’m so unconcerned with things like social niceties and giving people space, otherwise I’d be leaving and you’d still be sitting here all sad and by yourself.”

Peter burrowed back into his blanket and slammed his head into the back of his seat-- repeatedly.

Sam dropped the bag of food on the floor, lunged from where he’d been standing and caught the back of Peter’s head. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, Pete! You’re okay.” He soothed as he kept his hand in place but moved to kneel in front of the obviously overwrought kid. “This is a safe place, kid... even if that means from you so let’s just breathe for a minute okay?” Peter was avoiding Sam’s eyes. “Hey, you don’t need to be looking at me if you don’t want to; you just need to be breathing.”

Peter nodded and closed his eyes and then, in a move completely unexpected, he leaned forward, rested his head against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam’s hold on Peter’s head turned to soft, comforting caresses. “That’s it, Peter. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Just keep breathing.”

He did just that, Sam could tell by the stuttering breaths he tried to bring in. After a few minutes, the efforts smoothed and Peter was calming down.

“I’m guessing you needed a moment, huh?”

Peter nodded against his shoulder.

“Are you ready to talk about what brought this on?”

Peter didn’t respond.

Sam couldn’t allow that. The boy was more than a little upset about a Spidey-shift gone wrong so he gripped the back of Peter’s head. “Look. The being quiet thing isn’t working, kid. I know you wish it was, but it’s not. And I know I’m not who you want to be talking to right now, but I’m the one you’ve got, and I only want you to be okay, you got it?”

Neither of them needed to say his name. The boy was heartbroken enough.

Peter stayed still, and then finally nodded.

“Good boy.” Sam whispered and without a thought, pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He moved then, snuggled into Sam, practically falling into him—and Sam wondered how long it had been since the boy had felt cared for. The boy had his aunt, but since after the final Snap, he’d spent every weekend at headquarters training while his aunt was working the overnight shift at the hospital. Did he even see her anymore?

He had thought he knew his role as team leader, then thought of the man Peter had worked with most and best. Sam sighed. Maybe it was time to throw away the rigid ideas he’d been trying to emulate as the gold standard since his advancement and just spend more of his off hours getting to know his teammates and youngest charge.

Yeah, that sounded like a great idea.

Sam tightened his arms around him, “You know, kid, it doesn’t matter what happened. No judgement right now, okay? Everyone who knows you only wants the best for you. Got it?”

Peter took a deep breath and then whispered, “No. Not everyone...”

Sam smiled into the boy’s hair. “I don’t think the bad guys count, Pete.”

Peter laughed out loud, only for the sound to transform into a sob.

“Pete?” Sam pulled back so he could see his face.

He was devastated.

“But what if the b-bad guy is supposed to be the good guy?!”

Sam froze. “What do you mean?”

Peter gnawed at his chapped lip and looked back to the floor. “I’m just...” he seemed to be struggling to find the words.

Sam moved to grasp Peter’s hand—the one peeking out while he clutched himself tight into his blanket cocoon, and then looked at his face, twisting with apology. “Kid, you are not about to apologize for somebody beating the shit out of you, are you?”

“No.” He whispered.

And then Sam understood. He wasn’t going to apologize... he was going to justify! “Peter! You aren’t blaming yourself for this, are you? ‘Cuz, dude, we will be having some serious words if that’s the case.”

“But—“

“Nope. There are no buts. You were beaten, Peter. You had a concussion. Your arm was broken in two places—“ How the boy could think that! “Pete, I don’t care if it was a damned cop! You are no to blame for... Pete?”

Peter’s eyes had widened as he paled.

“Peter?”

The words flew out of his face before he could think about it, judging by the shocked expression he wore once he’d blurted out, “How did you know it was a cop?!”

“Excuse me?!” Sam exclaimed as he stood up abruptly.

Peter pushed himself back into his seat, trying to escape Sam’s obvious anger, “What? You said—“

“I was making what I THOUGHT was a ridiculous suggestion! Not telling you that I knew who your attacker was!”

“Well, now you do!” Peter yelled back, finally pulling his arms out of the blanket to throw them up in the air in frustration.

And Sam deflated. “Damn it, kid.” He drew in a deep breath to calm himself. “I guess now I do.”

The two superheroes took a moment to settle their thoughts.

Peter straightened his blanket around his shoulders, the wrap not nearly as tight as it had been before.

Sam—he took a few minutes to pace the room before he could come back. He simply placed himself back in front of Peter, though he sat on the floor now, back to the floor to ceiling windows Peter had been so captivated by earlier. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, Peter. That was an inappropriate response to you telling me something that you’re upset about.” He inhaled and then exhaled with obvious purpose. “I will try to control my reactions going forward.”

Peter sat in the chair and looked at Sam with a critical eye—

Sam deserved it, so he waited... until he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore and he whispered, “The cop is an asshole, though.”

Peter heard, and Peter laughed. It wasn’t a huge one, just a huff of air, like he hadn’t expected it to happen. But it was all the permission he needed for the tears to begin to fall.

Sam wasn’t sure that he knew he was crying.

The boy started twisting his fingers together and focussed hard on the comforter surrounding him. “He, um... he...” Peter cleared his throat. “It was a...” He stopped.

“I’m not going anywhere, Peter. You take all the time you need.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, ‘kay.”

“And you can breathe, if you need to. Just take it all the way down to the belly, kid. Nice and deep. You are safe here, don’t forget that.”

Peter nodded again and inhaled.

Sam waited.

And then Peter just went. “I know the cops don’t like me, right?” He finally looked up at Sam as he explained. “They didn’t before—thought I was trying to make them look bad and stuff, I guess, and that’s okay. I’m used to it so I just do my thing and call it good.

“There are a few, though,” he paused to take a deep breath, then cleared his throat again, “There are a few that got that I’m only trying to help so I’d try to do extra patrols and stuff when they were on shift, but especially now after the final Snap. I mean- so many cops didn’t come back to work after... they’re so short handed and the budget cuts are insane! How could I not help, right?”

There were things Sam already wanted to say, but he simply agreed with what Peter had said, “I totally understand that, kid. It was the right thing to do.”

His tears fell faster. “I know! I try so hard to be good enough, Sam, I really do! I just...”

Sam stopped him. “I know, Peter, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s enough no matter what you do, right?”

Peter inhaled... exhaled, then wiped tears from his cheek and nodded. “Right.”

And then he fell silent again, caught up in his own head.

“Tell me about the cop, Pete.” Sam finally prompted.

He blinked, like he was waking up from a daydream, and smiled. “I’d buy him donuts, like if I’d see that he was walking the neighbourhood. Sometimes I’d walk with him.” He chuckled at a memory. “I figured it could be good P.R. for the cops, or even me, what with all the bad stuff that’s been happening these days...”

And then he disappeared into his thoughts again.

Sam could see the memories warring within the boy, trying to reconcile what had been with what had happened. “Pete? Are you still with me?”

Peter didn’t respond for almost a minute, but then picked up where he’d left off. “I hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks, which was weird, but it’s been so crazy that it didn’t register until I saw him, so... yeah.” He swiped at the wetness on his face. “Anyways, I’m swinging around and I see him, so I wave and he starts waving me over, so I go, ‘cuz, of course! And then he tells me that he needs my help!” Peter looked over to Sam, begging him to understand. “He’d never asked me for help before, Sam! Like EVER! And here he was!—and he tells me that there’s a huge drug deal goin’ on down this alley and back up won’t get there in time and can I please just go and help him deal with them...”

Sam’s heart sank as he realized where this was going.

Peter inhaled... exhaled. Inhaled... exhaled. Inhaled... exhaled.

“I went in first, figured I could web up the henchmen and stuff. Make quick work of it, right? But I step into the alley and, um... there’s a bunch of...” Peter was having trouble catching his breath.

Sam didn’t say a word, just moved himself so he was sitting directly in front of the boy. He reached out and pulled the hand still fussing the blanket into his own—then gave it a squeeze. “Just breathe, Pete. In and out.”

He did.  

And suddenly the words were rushing out like a torrent—“Sam! They were cops! And I didn’t understand it at first ‘cuz my senses were going nuts and I was like, ‘are these cops the drug dealers?’ and I wasn’t getting it at all and so I looked at my fr...” He physically stopped himself from using another word. “My cop and he was there... with his gun.”

Sam tightened his grip again. “Breathe, kid.”

Peter inhaled... exhaled.

“He wouldn’t let me leave. He... he told me, Sam.” Peter squeezed his hand back. “He told me that I needed to feel fear like...” inhale... exhale... “like his wife had...” Peter’s chin quivered, and he fought it, but whatever came next was too much and Peter was throwing himself into Sam’s arms and clinging to the man like a lifeline. “I was so scared, I thought they were going to kill me... and I couldn’t fight back ‘cuz they’re cops and how do I fight the good guy—?“  

Sam pulled the boy in tighter. “They weren’t the good guys, Peter. Good guys don’t do that. You could’ve fought like hell and you’d have been in the right. Nothing you could’ve done would have warranted you deserving that.”

“No, Sam, you’re wrong.” And then he wept “I wasn’t there and I deserved it! I did!”

Peter was inconsolable. “I wasn’t there and he trusted me and now...”

“Now what, Peter? I don’t understand. Tell me what happened?” Spoke softly. “It’s eating you alive, man. You’ve gotta get it out.”

Peter breathed for a bit, trying to calm the tears, to no avail.

Sam finally just said, “Peter, if you gotta cry, you cry, but you need to tell me what happened.”

So Peter did, “He, um. He told me I’d, um—effed up. His wife had been walking home from an appointment and—“ he released a gust of air. “She was, uh, mugged and, um...” he sniffed and used his sleeve to wipe his nose. “She was hurt, like... bad.”

Peter stopped talking then, and Sam was sure that Peter would end the story there. A cop pissed that his wife got mugged, he could understand the anger, but surely he didn’t think...

“She lost her baby.”

“Oh.” Damn.

Saying the words out loud seemed to shift something in the boy. He calmed and pulled away from the embrace. “I guess she’s not doing so well and he, uh... he’s used all his sick time or something—can’t spend any more time with her.”

“That explains his anger, but you know that’s not your fault, right?”

Peter stared back at him. “I know the day it happened. Mr. Harrington was dealing with a student issue so decathlon practice ran late that day. I was tired and then Ned invited me over to work on—“ Peter shook his head, almost in disbelief. “We worked on a damned Lego kit, Sam.”

“Hey! Don’t do that to yourself. You aren’t Spider-Man 24/7, Pete. Even he has to realize that, eventually.” Sam placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. “He’s angry, justifiably so—but what he did to you was wrong. You’ve got to get that.”

Peter dropped his head into his hands. “It doesn’t matter. And now, here I am all sad and pathetic because I can’t get anything right and I hurt the people around me. And I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to be Spider-Man when I’m not sure I can trust who the good guys are anymore?!”

Team leader Sam popped up here, “Could you ID them?”

Peter chuckled sadly and demonstrated covering his head with his casted arm. “Too busy protecting my head from the crow bar, sorry.”

Sam cringed. “I’m sorry that you went through that, Peter.”

“It’s not your fault, and I can’t even blame him... I just—I thought he was my friend, you know? I feel so alone when I’m out there already and now...?”

The tears started trickling again.

“Hey, Peter? I know you don’t believe me right now, but all of us old timers know what it’s like to put your trust in the wrong people.” He laughed low, “Honestly, ask Cap if he can show you the elevator footage when you’re feeling a little more grounded. You’ll see what I mean.”

Peter nodded.

“And I also know that you’re gonna figure out how to navigate this crazy world. You’ll learn who to trust... and you’ll be okay in the end.”

The two superheroes sat together, quiet and both lost in their thoughts until Sam glanced around the room and spotted the breakfast sandwiches lying discarded on the floor.

“Peter Parker, we’re gonna start rebuilding trust right here. First thing to know is that you should always trust team leaders that bring you the good breakfast sandwiches.” He got up and scooped up the bag from off the floor and brought it back to the boy. “There’s this diner just down the street that poaches their eggs and it is magical—like Dr. Strange magical, man...”

* * * * * *

And later on, when Peter was finally fed and resting, if Sam happened to request that the HQ AI request access to Karen to download all footage from the attack��well, there was no way Peter Parker was ever gonna feel like no one had his back again.

@febuwhump