charlie, groggy from anesthesia, looks at cameron with half-lidded eyes. "heeey"
"Oh good, you're finally awake," cameron was the only one left since everyone went out to buy charlie some food.
charlie had the knack for literally almost dying in random physical activities. this is the nth time this month and cameron thought it'd be best to be the one to keep watch on charlie this time so Neil could get a break from always being charlie's pseudo guardian.
"cameronnnn"
"Hi charlie. do you remember what you did this time?"
"hmmmmm cat."
"yes, you tried to save a cat from a tree. tried."
"didnt i save her?"
"it wasn't a cat. it was a shoe."
"so did i save the shoe??" charlie grumbles
Cameron raises an eyebrow, he's never really seen charlie high on anesthesia before "no you didnt, why do you think you're in the hospital?"
then charlie starts to cry. "DAMN IT" he wept "I'm so useless! I-- I can't even save shoekind!"
Cameron sympathizes, "hey now, dont cry, you did your best!"
"Yeah but where's the shoe cam? WHERE? did it come home to its family???? i got injured for NOTHING. now the little shoe kids wont have a mom!!"
"Charlie... dont worry the show fell after and we reunited it with pitts' other shoe." cameron patted charlie, trying to soothe the sniffling he emitted
Charlie crying for a minute or so before looking back at cameron. "im sorry."
"it's ok charlie," cameron says, like he's used to forgiving his roommate.
"god, this is why I love you." charlie says as he playfully shook his head in giddiness.
"e-excuse me??" cameron nearly fell of his chair.
"i'm so happy i've got a boyfriend like you to take care of me and reassure me." charlie smiled softly has he reached out to hold cameron's hand.
"charlie... you're mistaken, we're not--"
"hey!! we're back!" Neil and todd enter the room before knox and the others could catch up, with a paperbag full of food from the near by convenience store "-- Charlie!"
Charlie was busy trying to grab Cameron for a hug but cameron immediately jumps away.
"Sorry, Cameron, Charlie-- tends to get clingy to whoever he's stuck with." neil explained, trying to swat charlie's arms from trying to grab cameron by the waist.
"but he's myyy boyfriendddd"
"no one's your boyfriend, dumbass, you have anesthesia." neil rolled his eyes.
"S-so this is normal? he would've done this to todd if he was left here?" Cameron wanted it to be rational. So badly.
"Oh, yeah. sorry it takes a while to get used to." Todd replied.
"oh... right... anyway, if you dont need anything, I think i'll head back to my dorm. just bring him back in one piece, fellas."
"Gotcha, Cam."
As Cameron shut the door, he felt his face warming up and his heart racing. "Charlie's... wasn't thinking right..." he muttered before walking away.
//
"CHARLIE!" Neil shook his friend a bit.
"Where's my boyfrieeenddd??" Charlie pouted.
"YOU CALLED CAMERON YOUR BOYFRIEND."
"You literally basically confessed to cameron you dumbass."
"I wanted to thoooo" Charlie swayed.
"NO, you didn't. sober, non-anesthesia-ed you literally told me and todd never to tell Cameron you like him. God- I knew this would happen if I left you here with him."
"Neil, come on, don't beat yourself up, Cameron insisted and he didnt actually think Charlie would be that brave under anethesia." Todd of course witnessed Charlie once counting 100 things he liked about cameron while he was drugged up.
"Can i have my boyfriend now?? Where did he go?? Did he break up with me?? WHyyyyyy"
"Charlie, eat your chicken wings and forget this happened."
"I like chicken wings"
"I know, that's why we bought them for you."
"I also like cameron. can you buy him for me?"
and Neil shoved a chicken leg into Charlie's mouth.
Watching Charlie taunt and bother Cameron was like watching a cat play with a single piece of yarn-- he looked like he hated him more than anything in the world, wanting to bite and scratch it anyway he could, while simultaneously giving him his undivided attention.
Toying with Cameron was just something seemingly built into Charlie's DNA. Was it in Charlie's second nature to bully and mangle Cameron any and every time he gets? Was there something about Cameron’s mundanity that was so fascinatingly irritating for Charlie? It was up for debate whether or not Charlie's constant badgering was just him filling the sardonic need to bully someone the opposite of him or if he genuinely just enjoyed Cameron to the point of aggressively paying attention to him.
Charlie's insults, his hyperspecificity to Cameron's hates and insecurities were quite concerning-- not in a negative sense, entirely, but to an extent of 'why does he spend all his time and effort on one guy?'.
If you even asked his friends, Neil especially, Charlie is further from a bully similar to how a Cat was further from frog, in a sense that he didn't view Charlie as being hostile to Cameron. Neil did, however, view Charlie as a street cat mischievously poking around a dumpster while Cameron, a passionate Chef and restaurant owner, has to constantly yell at him to stop.
From an outsider's perspective, this could be a case of one-sided bullying, but Neil suspects Cameron enjoyed delivering a scold or two.
Cameron was one of Neil's most polite and book-intelligent friends, Charlie being the most opposite of that definition (Charlie was street-smart at least), so it came to a surprise when he noticed how much these two friends "got along". Cameron could easily brush off someone like Charlie since he's already experienced worse bullying than this before. Charlie could easily come up with better, funnier material than just make fun of Cameron all day. But as Neil realized, it was like trying to understand why two magnets of opposite poles stick to each other, it was inevitable.
Charlie's incessant want to get a reaction out of someone prim and proper juxtaposed to Cameron’s desire to finally scold and/or clapback at someone for once was somehow a match made in heaven.
They gave each other their undivided attention, like the wave will always crash into a shore, or a complacent red piece of yarn dangling itself for a tomcat.
It was only a matter of time until Cameron would let himself be caught once again and let Charlie completely take him.
.
.
.
uhhh I'll tag yall later hahaha I just woke up and played with my cat and I got inspired hahah
happy valentine's day. have this thing! based on this post by @aedan-mills :)
it's on ao3 :D
Out of everyone Richard has met, Charles Dalton has to be the most infuriating of them all. It's only a bit shocking, if he was going to be honest. Richard has met a lot of people, having been dragged by his parents to multiple gatherings (being the one to have the most hope out of all his siblings back at home to have a successful life) and the like, rich and poor. And Charlie grew up to be an only child in a rich family.
We all know how that goes most of the time.
Still, you have to give the guy some credit for being the biggest asshole Welton has.
It sucks that Richard seems to be his only target, though.
“Holy shit look!” Charlie exclaims the moment Richard walks in the room. The redhead sighs. “It's the virgin!”
Everyone in the room rolls their eyes, and Richard is glad that he's not the only one who's tired of his constant bullying. It's getting old, really, and everything's getting reused.
“You're a virgin, too, Charlie,” Richard mumbles, taking a seat beside Todd and opening his Trigonometry book. “We all are.”
“Wh–am not!” the brunet sputters, but Richard isn't listening anymore, already scribbling formulas on a piece of paper. “At least I attract women! Unlike you, you're more of a woman repeller.”
“Okay Charlie,” Richard says, “whatever you say.”
Todd snickers quietly beside him, and the redhead gives him a small smile. Todd smiles back.
Charlie fumes silently. Neil watches in amusement.
——
“You're a real stick in the mud, you know?” Charlie huffs, but it's not as hostile as Richard expected it to be. He blinks, slowly organising his desk. He'd decided to retire to bed a few minutes ago, when it was silent and he was sure that his roommate was sleeping.
“Yes,” he answers, despite knowing that it was a rhetorical question. “I do.”
“Huh,” Charlie mumbles, and Richard rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you, I don't fuckin' know, relaxed once in a while, you'd actually get some girls.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie,” Richard groans, but he already expected it. The punchline of the fucking joke, whatever it is. “I don't even want to date girls right now.” And it's true, he doesn't. He's too busy to care, really. School's taking up most of his time, and the Dead Poets Society meetings are really one of his only escapes. He's grateful for it.
“Wait,” Charlie says, bolting upright from his spot. Richard thinks that the way the moonlight is shining on him is quite beautiful, but there's slight amusement in his tone, and he braces for whatever tease is going to be thrown at him. “Holy shit, Cameron, are you gay?”
“What?” Richard asks, monotone and blank. His brain had stopped working, and he doesn't know if it's because he's tired or if it's because he's kind of getting lost in Charlie's grin. “Wha–you know what? I'm too tired to deal with this. Goodnight, Dalton.” He takes the former with open arms.
“Holy shit, I'm rooming with a gay guy,” is what Richard hears before he decides to block out the world and focus on sleeping.
Despite Dalton's recent “discovery”, as he calls it, there are no rumours being murmured about Richard the next day. No side-eyes, no clear distaste on anyone's face. The brunet makes sure to stick to the regular programming, too. Just the usual “you get no bitches” comment, nothing else.
It's more than usual, but at least he's not getting called gay. Which he's not.
Richard's not gay. At all. Straight as a ruler, Richard Cameron. Yep.
“How's being unfuckable treating you, Dick?” Someone please end Richard's misery. All he wants to do is study with Todd and Neil, but Dalton’s not really helping. It’s nothing new, obviously, but a bit of silence can really do Richard wonders.
“Amazingly,” he retorts half-heartedly, “how’s not having anyone ask you out to prom treating you, Dalton?”
It’s not that Richard intended to boast. He didn’t even want to tell them about the stupid prom. It just… slipped. And it’s not like he’s telling the full truth either.
“What?” Dalton hisses, but there’s barely any venom in his tone. He’s surprised, that’s all. “You got what?”
“I got asked out,” Richard says, shrugging with a smirk, because if he’s going to lie—as horrible as it feels to him—, might as well let it last, right? “A girl asked me out, Charlie. Do they ask you out?”
Is he taking it a bit too far? Maybe. Does he care? Yes, but only a little bit. The look on Dalton’s face is enough to satisfy Richard and his odd desire to wipe the smirk off his face. Maybe it didn’t happen in the way he wanted to, but at least it’s not there to taunt him anymore.
“You—wha—I—!” Dalton stutters as Richard opens his textbook, cheek in hand.
“Close your mouth Charlie, you might catch flies.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks.”
——
The next few weeks are more unbearable than usual. It’s Charlie’s doing, of course. Because why wouldn’t it be? It’s like the guy has made it his personal mission to make every second of Richard’s life a living hell. It probably is, if Richard is going to be honest. The teasing still consisted of him not “having game” (which, apparently, means that he can’t attract women, of course. Typical), but this time there would be an off-handed comment or two about how his date was probably forced to ask Richard out. Pity, Charlie says.
Which is almost close to the truth, but Richard won’t say that out loud. Not near Charlie.
“Can’t believe that girl would ask out a queer like you,” Charlie scoffs, and Richard could almost hear the sound of his eyes rolling. The redhead huffs. “She could do way better.”
“Yep,” Richard responds for the sake of responding. Does it piss off Charlie? Oh absolutely. When this all started, Richard fought back, why wouldn’t he? He’s done nothing wrong to Charlie, he’s just defending himself! But then it just got old and repetitive, so it’s really better to half-heartedly agree. It’s like giving Charlie what he wants (attention) but not in the way he wants (a fight). It’s fun. “She could.”
There’s silence, then, only getting interrupted when Richard turns a page in his book. If he strains enough, he can hear the gritting of Charlie’s teeth. But he doesn’t want to, so he refrains, and relaxes in his bed.
It’s a rare sight. Shame that only Dalton can see it. Stupid, annoying, infuriating Dalton.
Richard glances to his side of the room, to see the brunet with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall and body facing him. There’s a glare settled nicely on his face; lips pulled down into a frown. His eyes are throwing daggers at Richard. The corner of the ginger’s lips twitch in amusement.
“What?” he hums, finger tapping the cover of the book.
“What?” Charlie repeats, harsher and more hostile. “You–whatever. Goodnight, queerio.”
“Wha…” Richard whispers, face contorting into confusion. “What does that even mean?”
“It means fuck you.”
“Um, okay.”
The smirk on Charlie’s face the moment Richard steps into the room is almost enough to make him walk backwards and out into the hall. But he can’t, because his coat is in their dorm room, and so is his blazer. And he needs those. Desperately.
“So,” Charlie starts, crossing his legs and arms. Richard raises an eyebrow. “Did your date dump you already?”
“What?” Richard asks, slightly startled. There’s a hint of an uncertain laugh in his voice. “Charlie, what?”
“Aren’t you late?” Charlie chuckles, leaning forward. “Does that mean your date dumped you?”
Richard laughs then, even when he didn’t mean to. It’s a quick outburst, one that stunned Charlie for a moment before he’s glaring again. The ginger tries to muffle his laughter with his hand as he leans on his desk for support, body trembling. “Charlie,” he manages to say, giggling still, “it’s only seven pm.”
“Yeah, and?” Charlie retorts with a sneer. “You said you’re supposed to go at six.”
“I didn’t though?”
“You did!” he exclaims. “It even says so on your calendar!” Charlie points an accusing finger at the object hung on Richard’s wall, numbers scribbled neatly by the corner.
“Charlie, it says “Six pm, get ready”, because I wanted to get ready at six,” Richard chuckles, walking over to the calendar and crossing out the date. “And I did. Jesus, what’s your damage?”
“I–,” Charlie stutters, and he visibly deflates in the corner of Richard’s eye.
He wants to, but doesn't dare question it.
Richard stands in front of the mirror, fixing his tie, brushing his hair with his hand. He glances at Charlie's reflection to see the boy sulking, of all things. Shouldn't he be celebrating for having the room all to himself for a few hours?
Then Charlie stands with intent, and Richard's heart races for no reason at all, and his throat closes up and he suddenly can't breathe anymore so he loosens his tie a little and returns his gaze back at his own reflection.
He looks ghastly. Does it matter? Only a little.
Charlie's behind him, then, and Richard can feel his body heat from how close he is. His breath hitches.
“Hey nerd,” he mumbles, outstretching his arms to reveal Richard's blazer in his hold. The ginger mimics him, and Charlie slowly puts it on him. “You look awful,” he says then, placing his hands on Richard's shoulders. Richard rolls his eyes.
Then Charlie messes his fucking hair up.
Richard groans, grabbing his brush and fixing it, glaring at Charlie in the mirror. The brunet is laughing, and Richard's glare becomes harsher.
“I hope your date goes horribly!”
“Fuck off.”
—
The date was… okay. The prom was mediocre at best (the music was horrible and everyone was horny and it was so crowded and the drinks and food were awful. Richard would not recommend it), so they ended up ditching it and went to eat at a little diner instead. That was a fun time.
Serena was fun. She was a nice girl.
Charlie is awake when he gets back, not really doing anything. Just staring at the ceiling. Richard doesn't say anything as he changes into his pyjamas and climbs into his bed.
He doesn't face the wall like he usually does. Instead, he lays on his back, arm behind his head, and stares at the ceiling.
A beat.
“So,” Charlie starts, “How'd it go?” Richard knows Charlie's not as sincere as he sounds, but he answers anyway.
“It was alright,” he says, playing with a loose thread on his blanket. “Serena was nice.” We talked about you.
“Was she now?” Charlie hums, and Richard could hear his grin. He braces. “Too nice to give you a little kiss?”
“No,” Richard answers, not lightning fast, but not quite slow either. “No, she kissed me.” It was on the cheek. I didn't want her to kiss me.
“Sure she did,” he laughs, and it ripples through the tranquil silence that fell upon them for a moment. It's almost music to Richard's ears. “I'm sure she did, Dick.”
Richard rolls his eyes.
“Jesus Christ Charlie, can't you just shut up‽'' Richard screams, head snapping to the side to glare at his roommate, the grip on his desk tight, almost deadly. “I'm trying to study, because some of us actually care for our grades!”
“Boooo,” Charlie groans, tilting his head back a little and throws a crumpled piece of paper at Richard's head. It hits its target, at which the brunet laughs. Richard sneers. “God, are you really that much of a virgin? Repressing your sexual desires with schoolwork?”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything‽”
“Oh, you know,” Charlie starts with an almost menacing grin, “How you're date probably didn't want to have sex with someone like you. Didn't even make out with you, did she?”
“Wha–?” Richard stutters, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before groaning. “Oh my god Charlie, can you just let it go? If you don't believe that she kissed me, then can you just shut up?”
“Say she did kiss you,” Charlie says, and Richard dies a bit inside, “bet it was just a peck though, wasn't it? Didn't even go to second base because you're a shit kisser.”
“I'm not a shit kisser, I'm a good kisser!” Richard retorts, more startled than anything. Charlie's smug now, arms crossed across his chest and the smirk on his face more demeaning than menacing. The ginger doesn't shrink.
“Are too,” is his simple response, and Richard can't help but feel like a child.
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
“Am not!”
Charlie's close now, and Richard can't remember nor tell if he was the one to move or if it was the brunet. Either way, Richard can see the flecks of gold in his roommate's eyes with their proximity, and he gulps at the fact that he can feel Charlie's breath fanning on him.
“Are t—!” And if Charlie can't shut up himself, might as well help him, right?
So, there they were. Two men—boys, really—in their room, lips locked in a kiss. Richard's hand had found its place on Charlie's tie, eyes tightly shut.
His heart is racing, beating so loudly he fears Charlie can hear it. But Charlie doesn’t say anything, because Charlie’s moving, responding. His lips are dancing against Richard’s and it’s almost—it is heaven.
Richard feels whole. It’s a refreshing feeling, he thinks as he pulls Charlie closer.
But then Charlie pulls away, not alarmed, but definitely seeming as if he’s just remembered himself. Richard feels dizzy, then, letting the oxygen in his system once more before he opens his eyes, blinking a little too harshly.
“See?” he mumbles, lips brushing against Charlie’s, a smirk pulling on them. “Told you I’m a good kisser.” Richard takes a moment to appreciate Charlie’s stunned form before he makes a face and leaves the room.
Charlie raises a shaky hand and lightly touches his lips.
“Oh no,” Richard says as soon as he closes the bathroom door, voice shaky and all. “Oh… oh no no no. What the hell did I just do?”
He got what he wanted, didn’t he? He kissed Charlie, but… but it wasn’t a proclamation of his… attraction to the boy. It was some sort of–some sort of thing to assert his dominance.
Okay, maybe don’t call it that. It’s something, and it’s far from romantic.
But Charlie kissed him back, didn’t he? Yeah, Charlie… Charlie reciprocated, he did, yes. But that could mean anything. Charlie—
Charlie’s a dick. He’s an asshole who just happens to be charming and rich so he could get away with anything. He barely gets by with school and if Richard wasn’t there to help, he’d be failing. Richard should hate him. Richard did hate him.
But he doesn’t now, and maybe he never did, and now this whole thing is a mess and Richard is just questioning his existence now. He groans, holding his head in his hands.
“So, do you like anyone?” Serena had asked, dipping her fries in the milkshake before tossing them in her mouth. Richard’s face twisted.
“No,” he answered, perhaps a bit too quickly, “I don’t.”
“Hmmm,” she hummed, “well, do you hate anyone?”
“Hate?” Richard repeated, raising an eyebrow. He picked up a fry and slightly dipped them in the milkshake before taking a small bite. “Of course. Don’t we all?”
“Who are they, then?”
“My roommate,” he answered, finger tapping rhythmically on the table. “I hate him with every fibre of my damn being. He’s just so annoying you know? All he does is talk and it’s infuriating, especially when I’m trying to study! Don’t get me started on his damn face of all things! He thinks he’s so attractive, attracting girls left and right, but he isn’t! Just because his smirk is kind of mesmerising to look at doesn’t mean he’s attractive. And he’s somehow charming? It’s how he gets away with so many things—why are you looking at me like that?”
Serena was smirking, amused, not teasing, so unlike how Charlie always is. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes glinted with something that Richard can’t quite point. It’s similar to the glint in Charlie’s eyes, though, so that can’t be good, can it?
“Nothing,” she said, slowly, “it’s nothing. Just… are ya sure you hate him?”
“Of course I do,” he retorted, almost a second too fast. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, Cam,” she started, a slight laugh in her voice, “it’s just, I don’t think people who hate their roommate think they’re attractive.”
Richard furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t think he’s attractive.”
“You called his smirk mesmerising, Cam.”
“Because it is!”
“Cam.” There’s finality in her tone, and it makes the redhead clam up a tiny bit. “Cam, really, think about it. Do you actually hate him, or do you hate that you feel this way about him?”
“Oh,” was all he said.
It was an enlightening evening.
The walk back to their room was hell. Every second felt like an hour and every minute felt like a year or two. Richard’s hands were clammy, and cold sweat dripped down his back uncomfortably. The air felt tight, despite him being the only one in the hall, he couldn’t breathe properly.
He breathes out, grabbing the doorknob with shaking hands. Richard doesn’t really have a choice but go back to their room. He can’t be caught out and about this late, and he swears that he heard someone else down the hall.
Richard twists it, and opens the door. The creaking shouldn’t be as loud as it is, but it rings in his ears along with the rapid beating of his heart.
Charlie is awake and sitting on his bed, eyes downcast and fists gripping the covers. His head doesn’t snap up when Richard steps in and closes the door. Richard holds his breath.
The moment Richard sits on his bed is when Charlie looks up, slowly, his eyes travelling the redhead’s entire body before settling on his eyes. Richard flushes a little, lip slightly trembling.
“Richie…” he mumbles, and Richard’s eyes grow wide.
“Charlie?” he whispers.
“Did it mean anything?” Charlie’s voice is soft, quiet, almost, yet it pierces through the silence like a knife, and straight into Richard’s heart. “The–the kiss, I mean. Did it… did it mean anything?”
“It meant something,” Richard mutters, chewing on his lip. “It… it meant a lot, I guess.”
“It meant a lot to me.” It meant a lot to Charlie. It meant a lot to Charlie. “You’re right, you know?”
Richard hums, a silent question. His eyes don’t leave Charlie’s as he dares to stand and sit beside the brunet.
“You’re a really good kisser,” Charlie says, hand inching closer to Richard’s. “Too good that it’s suspicious.”
“Well, would you look at that,” Richard chuckles, placing his hand on top of Charlie’s, “Charles Dalton, agreeing with me? And admitting that he’s wrong?” He laughs, then, a weight being lifted from his chest as he entangles his fingers with his roommate’s and places his forehead on the brunet’s. “Is the world ending?”
“Shut up,” Charlie huffs, though not unkindly like before. He rolls his eyes. “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are a shit kisser and I’m just too sleepy to deal with this shit.”
“No no no, you can’t take it back,” Richard tuts. “You already said it, I already heard it. The truth’s out in the open.”
“Maybe you should kiss me again.” Charlie shrugs. Richard raises an eyebrow. “Change my mind again, because I’m still convinced that you’re a really shitty kisser and it’s just the—.”
“Christ almighty, shut up already,” Richard hisses half-heartedly, leaning down and capturing Charlie’s lips on his own.
“So, I like him.”
“You like him.”
“And it’s annoying.”
“It is?”
“It is.”
“You are more in denial than I thought.”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know, confess?”
“I can’t just confess!”
“Well, why not?”
“He’ll… he’ll hate me.”
“Look, I say just take a leap of faith. What does your cooky English teacher say? Uh, carpe diem? Yeah, go and seize the day.”
“But what if—.”
“Look, Cam, if he actually hates you, then he’d do more than tease you. You know what they say to us girls?”
“Uh, no.”
“’If he bullies you, then he likes you.’”
“That’s fucked up.”
“You think I don’t know that? But you know, sometimes it’s true. Not all the time, but sometimes. So, you know, shoot your shot.”
Ok so like, in this version of the hanahaki disease trope the only people who can see the petals you cough up are the people who KNOW about your crush. It's not gonna kill you, it's just really annoying when you're choking on petals and spitting them up. Also in this version, it's not just unrequited love, as long as you have a huge crush you dont wanna admit to anyone, the amount of flowers grow the more people know + the more you like the person and wont confess (the more unbearable it is to keep a secret). it will only stop when the one you like KNOWS and they end up seeing the flowers, but they don't have to like you back, once you confess- the flowers will either rot if they dont return it or fly away if they like you back.
Charlie has this problem, he likes to say how much he doesn't like Cameron, until one day he didn't really mean it and a rose petal appeared on his tongue.
Neil was the first to see one of the petals because he noticed charlie was being EXTRA mean to cam one day. neil realized he was bluffing. when neil told charlie, he says "no wonder i've been coughing up more of these."
The next to know is todd because, well, it was the same thing with neil except todd was also coughing up petals. when they both told each other they liked each other, the petals flew away and they became a thing. they're trying to explain to charlie to just confess while the flowers arent a lot
Charlie doesnt listen. duh
Cameron's being more insufferable to charlie, by that he means that cameron's gotten unbearably more attractive. his nagging became endearing to charlie, his face and freckles became overwhelmingly beautiful. cameron's presence made charlie falter in his insults.
knox, meeks, pitts immediately notice. for an academically upright guy as cameron, he didnt pick up on charlie's change of demeanor AT ALL
Charlie and Cameron's room was COVERED in petals and friends think this is getting out of hand. the whole class knows. it's obvious. and they're all just telling charlie to just confess. some guys were nice, making sure no one outs Charlie in front of cameron or the teachers. but it's getting really hard to use the locker rooms and bathroom
Charlie doesnt want to confess, they wont work. Cameron wont like him because they're so different. but that's why he really likes cameron. he wont bullshit charlie when he's being chaotic, he could ground him and tell him when to be better. charlie needs someone like cameron but cameron wont need or want him.
One day charlie gets into an accident, like he tripped and hit his head or something and he gets rushed to the ER.
when he wakes up cameron is there and there are still a shit ton of flowers anywhere. but when he coughed one more time, no petals came out. a few more coughs and huffs. nothing.
huh.
he must've gotten over cameron. he got kinda sad, but when he starts talking to cameron he's so happy. he knows he still likes him.
little did charlie know that moments before that, cameron had been coughing up so many flowers, he's been coughing flowers for years for charlie. he didnt want to admit it because charlie was out of his league, he was a nerd and charlie was charlie. amazing.
their room was filled with 10 times the amount of flowers than anyone else could imagine. these two have been blindly in love with each other for so long (at least cameron has)
when charlie was rushed to the ER, charlie's room still getting petals everywhere because of coughing + unconscious charlie , neil complained that he only got into an accident because he slipped on a bunch of petals for cameron and immediately slapped his mouth shut. Cameron found out (stopping charlie from making petals). He suddenly saw all the petals covering all this friends.
Cameron may have been coughing up petals for years but charlie produced as much flowers in the span of months as cameron did in years. He likes cameron THAT much. (also how many people KNEW??)
Neil apologizes but Cameron blurts out he likes charlie too and then suddenly the petals in Neil's view TRIPLED. "damn it-- but hey at least yours are pink and not bright red like charlie's. can you just.. confess to charlie? please? so this is over with"
so when cameron stayed with charlie, he was still coughing up flowers but this time they were multiplying, his crush-- his love for charlie was getting stronger.
charlie wakes up, sees cameron and before he could confess, cameron tells him he likes him.
Suddenly the room was a mix of red and pink petals. charlie was in awe but immediately returns cameron's confession.
they watched as their petals danced together in a mini tornado in the room before they dissipated.
"...except then Cameron’s face broke open into a toothy smile, and it was strange— Charlie could have sworn it was sunny outside just an hour ago, but now the air felt electric, like a thunderstorm."
fanart for @/rsbry-beret's fanfic, "he would be warm (below the storm)". if you cannot tell, i can't draw sharks👍 also, if charlie looks like he's triggered/mad that's on you /j
click the image for a higher resolution, and w/o text and stuff below the cut!!!
w/o text
long👍
long, but w/o text
this took me THREE WHOLE DAYS i am crying my pc is crying my partner witnessed me crying we are all crying also can u tell i bsed the lighting sob
so like in their batch, the Welton boys needed a "class representative" because the teacher needs some "Head Boy" and obviously Cameron wanted to be nominated. Meanwhile, due to Charlie's popularity, he was nominated as well. Long story short, people preferred Charlie over cameron (mostly because they dont like cameron) and this made Cameron a bit bitter when they went back to their room. Charlie admits to him he never wanted to be a Class Rep and he needs Cameron's help behind the scenes.
"I know you wont be able to take credit for all your hard work, but I really need your help. I know nothing about leading a bunch of Welton guys, it should have been You-- or Neil!"
"Well, Neil wasn't allowed to be nominated since his Father forced the school not to let him join school politics and I didn't get voted cuz I lacked your megawatt smile."
"... you think I have a megawatt smile?"
"whatever, Dalton. sure, I'll help."
and that's how people thought Charlie bullied Cameron into being his "advisor" or his lacky and do all his work but in truth, Cameron's Charlie's right hand man.
((the other boys were too busy covering this up to be the right hand man themselves))
