cfthewoodsâ:
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Archie turns his head, refuses to look at him, and Charlie, for all he loves the banter ( TEASING laughter and obnoxious eye rolls, the way archieâs face gets when charlie has made a truly terrible joke ) justâŠdoesnât want to play games anymore. â Okay.â allowing his Aching hands to finally, finally reach out: to lace their fingers together with a boldness he hasnât felt since he was fourteen, to turn archieâs face up towards him. soft skin beneath his own calluses, exactly like how he imagined but not the same at all. âwhat else do you want ?? âÂ
charlie can hear his own heart beating: he knows what he w a n t s but there is a certainty in his own gaze that his companion lacks. even as they stand a moment away. even as he can feel every breath fanning on the exposed skin of his neck. even as the rest of the room blurs, and nothing exists but big brown eyes and the glow of evening. And if Archie wants him to just take, he will, but he needs to k n o w, â Arch. â so quiet, the sound of his breathing might drown it out, â Archie. Tell me to stop.â tell me to stop and I will, but please donât say that. please want this too, because i havenât wanted like this in so long.Â
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Archie feels his body stiffen as the other laces their fingers together. Itâs odd, the fact that his signet ring doesnât catch on another family ring, that the rough fingers donât feel out of place when all he has been used to are dainty and soft. His mind is moving a thousand miles a minute, sure that it is all being displayed on his features ( he always has been horrid at hiding his thoughts ). The question floats in the air between them, and Archie opens his mouth to answer but he canât fucking say it. Heâs too scared and thatâs something heâs never been allowed to feel. Fear is one word that has been shoved so far from his vocabulary it feels foreign.Â
He canât say anything, canât figure out a coherent sentence as his gaze travels from Charlieâs shoulder to meet the brown eyes staring back at him. He blinks a few times, shaking away the hold Medusa had on his spine, cracking the bits of stone he felt had trapped him moments ago. Archie doesnât want him to stop, doesnât want the other to ever fucking leave and that is something he really canât try to comprehend right now. So instead, the hand not wrapped in Charlieâs quickly finds purchase below the otherâs ear, hand wrapping around the side of his neck as his thumb lays on his jaw. The kiss is brash, Archie acting more than thinking, and he hopes this is what the other was insinuating.Â















