An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace & Charles Rowland
Characters: Charles Rowland (DCU), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Crystal Palace (DCU)
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Whump, Protective Charles Rowland (DCU), Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Edwin Payne's pain tolerance, Pre-Canon, Peri-Canon, Post-Canon, Mild Gore, Autistic Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, due partly to timeline and partly to them the payneland is largely, Queerplatonic Relationships, Caretaking, Charles Rowland Loves Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Nonlinear Narrative, Hiding Injuries
Edwin and Charles have slightly different views on acceptable levels of injury for Edwin to incur during a case. (Edwin's views may be best summarized as "damage may be incurred if necessary and beneficial"; Charles's as "no the fuck it can't".)
A three-decade-long tale of care, concealment, trust, betrayal, and healing.
[Complete at 20kw, will be published serially biweekly.]
What fic thoughts have you been microwaving lately?
So the thing is since, like, December, I've been devoting almost all my fic-writing efforts towards one specific fic, about Care and Deception and Trust and Betrayal (and whump), which has been using the working title Hands/Gloves.
Which I just finished!
Unless final touch-up edits change something, it's exactly 20,000 words, which makes it my longest fic by miles. I'm very excited for folks to see it, the first chapter should be published within the week!
(And then I can finally come back from the war and get back to thinking about other fics and ficlets and posts...)
It's hardly noticable to anyone who doesn't know him well, which is probably intentional on some level; not wanting to show weakness in Hell, and maybe even before that, not wanting to show weakness to classmates or teachers. (And Charles knows a thing or two about that feeling, doesn't he.)
Charles doesn't like to think about how long it took for him to see Edwin's pain for what it is. Sure, it's obvious to him now. The way Edwin holds himself stiffly, the way his movements are slightly slower than Charles would expect, slightly less precise. But they'd known each other for years before Charles saw Edwin take a hit, and saw him in the aftermath, and put two and two together.
And it doesn't help that there's not always an obvious cause. It's one thing if Edwin has a run-in with iron, or gets hit with a spell. Charles pays attention, and stuff like that is generally pretty noticable. (Except for that time Edwin hadn't admitted that the witch's torture hex was actually working until after Charles had goaded her into casting it two more times, what the fuck had he been thinking!) But sometimes it seems to come out of nowhere. Edwin will be sitting at his desk, or reading a book, or playing a game, and then suddenly he's moving wrong.
That's what's happening now. Edwin turns from their case board, and pauses, and blinks. He lets out a careful breath that has nothing to do with his emotional state. His fingers twitch, aborting an instinctive movement to press his hand to his ribs. He walks back to the desk and eases himself into his chair slowly, deliberately.
Charles stretches. "I could use a break," he says, giving Edwin an out.
Edwin pauses and considers him. "I... Yes, perhaps a break would be prudent." He moves to stand but stops, failing to entirely suppress a wince.
It's worse than Charles thought. "Want some help?" he asks gently, abandoning pretense.
For a moment, Edwin looks guilty, like he's been caught out. Then he sighs, and his mask falls away. He looks tired. There are pained lines at the corners of his eyes. He nods minutely.
Charles takes his arm and helps him to his feet. They walk slowly over to the couch and sit down. Edwin tips his head back and closes his eyes. He doesn't look relaxed; his expression is just shy of a grimace.
"Can I touch you?"
Edwin shakes his head no. "Sorry," he whispers.
"No, don't be. It's fine. Just wanna help if I can."
"You are. Helping."
"D'you wanna lay down?"
"I don't see what good it'll do."
"Can't hurt, can it?" Charles doesn't wait for an answer. He gets up and adjusts the pillows, then helps Edwin lie down.
He breathes. The tightness in his expression eases slightly. "What are you going to do?"
Charles hops to his feet and selects a Miss Marple book from the shelf, then sits cross legged on the floor with his back against the couch. "Figured it's my turn to read, innit. Unless you want quiet."
"No, please do. A distraction would be..." He sucks in a breath. "Most welcome."
"'kay. You just let me know if you change your mind. Or if there's anything else I can do."
"Thank you, Charles," Edwin says emphatically.
"You're welcome, mate. Sorry you're feelin' bad." He opens the book and begins to read.
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland,
Characters: Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland, Niko Sasaki, Crystal Palace
Additional Tags: Getting Together, First Time, Sex Pollen, Fuck or Die, Mutual Pining, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Perceived As a Sexual Being, Character Study
really happy to be able to share this in time for @painlandweek Day 6 - Curses/Magic. and also for @bitterdesert💕
EXCERPT:
Edwin tips his mouth back to Charles’. It is a cool wash of water on a hot summer’s day—or what he remembers of one. Edwin sighs with the relief of it, and tugs Charles’ bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth, sucking on it gently.
Charles, gloriously, makes a sound that sounds very much like a moan; heat rises in Edwin’s chest. That’s good, he thinks. That is very good. He must pull it from Charles again, he must know exactly how he can make that sound occur over and over and over—he must get closer, and he must get more of him. It is not a feeling that he has. It is a fact. As surely as the sun will rise, he needs Charles Rowland’s body against his.
Charles pulls away, lighthearted and laughing. “Edwin—come on, let’s at least get up to the office—”
“I cannot stop,” Edwin whispers, again. This time, it is hushed and panicked while his hands reach for Charles’ lapels, itching with the need to put his hands under each and every layer.
Charles’ brow narrows. “What do you mean?”
“If I stop touching you, I am going to die,” says Edwin.
Charles blinks. “Look, I’m loving the attitude, really, but don’t you think that’s a touch dramatic?”
On one of their early agency anniversaries in the 90s, Charles introduced Cluedo to Edwin (not knowing how to play the game either. just that it was the principle of the whole detective thing, innit). And Edwin loved the goddamn game so much that the boys declared it their staple anniversary ritual. On the next anniversary, it was Edwin who started the annual tradition of collecting strange Cluedo editions by surprising Charles with a Greek version of Cluedo he found somewhere.
From then on, the boys challenged each other every year to find the most obscure version of Cluedo they could. (Except it transformed into a challenge of finding a Cluedo edition the other would love)
Winner gets bragging rights
and this absolutely is an entirely plausible tradition for two immortal boys to uphold over 30 years because there are more than 133 editions of Cluedo that exist
the Spider-Man cosplayer and the Deadpool cosplayer who at any given convention dance activity inevitably end up grinding on each other and/or doing Gangnam Style
it’s an identity porn AU bc those are both full-face-coverage cosplays
they don’t know that they know each other outside of costume and have a very different sort of relationship when they’re not dirty dancing in front of a cheering crowd (they may not even know that it’s the same cosplayer they’re dancing with at each local con)
Edwin’s quite surprised to learn Charles was under the mask, while Charles is absolutely flabbergasted that he’s had prim touch-averse academic-voiced Edwin “five layers” Payne’s spandex-clad butt twerking against his crotch and prim touch-averse academic-voiced Edwin “five layers” Payne’s hand slapping his spandex-clad ass to the rhythm of both a bass beat and spontaneous-audience hoots
I've never gotten around to mentioning it in a fic or anything, but today's mundane headcanon is about how Edwin's binding spell works. It seems to have a physical (or at least visual) representation, but not be an actual physical restraint. If you actually leash an unwilling cat like that physically they start, like, thrashing around, in my experience. It strains credulity that this cat didn't even try to escape, if it's a physical effect.
Thus I believe that the binding spell has a more psychological or systemic effect - it makes the bind-ee either lack the mental will/desire to escape, or possibly the energy/systemic capability (maybe via exhaustion).
Which, given Edwin's relationship with Hell and Despair and escape and running, is kinda a fucked up thing for Edwin to be wandering around with :)
