Title: Scratchings on the Aviary – Louis & Charlie
Rating: OT
Genre: Romance???
Series: Professor Layton
Shipping(s): Louis/Charlie
Character(s): Louis, Charlie, minor OCs (Charlie's parents), Finch
Spoilers: Professor Layton and the Spectre's Call
Summary: Louis and Charlie have come to an agreement. They're doing each other a favour. And that was all there was to it.
Notes: A ficlet created to fill a gap in an on-going RP with spectrumv, giving a brief look at exactly what Louis did to piss Charlie off that much. Set at some unspecified point in the RP timeline (which is a few year post-canon), but before Charlie & Socket started seeing each other. All characters depicted in sexual situations are over the age of consent within the UK.
“This is a pretty nice place you've got here.”
Louis was visibly impressed as he stared around Charlie's living room. These North Ely houses were a good deal fancier than the ones you got around the market. Anyone who lived here had to be comfortably well-off, not that this was news when it came to Charlie.
“Yes, well, what did you expect?” Charlie sharply retorted, proving that he knew as much about his cushy life as everyone else did. He was presently pulling the curtains shut, after giving a cautious look around the streets outside; “My parents aren't due back tonight. But all the same, I'd rather we be careful.”
“Hey, if you want careful then you're asking the wrong Black Raven,” laughed Louis.
Now that it had been a few years since what Misthallery collectively referred to as the Spectre Incident, the secret behind the Black Raven was also less of a one. Most of the adults still didn't know who they were specifically, even if they probably knew of the black market auctions (the Black Raven in the tourist brochure, for crying out loud!), but many of the teenagers outside the group were now perfectly aware of what the market kids got up to. With Charlie being no exception.
“As long as you don't... talk about this,” Charlie muttered, once he was satisfied that the neighbours weren't spying in through the window with a telescope, “I don't want everyone in town to know. Not yet anyway.”
“My lips are sealed when it comes to things that matter,” vowed Louis. He held his hand across his heart to demonstrate.
“You'll forgive me for being sceptical, but everyone our age knows about your apparent skills at... at, um, wooing the ladies...” Charlie objected, visibly embarrassed at having to use such a term, “I know that you're not the quiet type.”
“Maybe so, but I never name any names, do I?” Louis pointed out, “Like, even if I did start boasting about adding a lad to the list of people I've lip-locked, I deffo wouldn't name you. That wouldn't do either of our reputations much good.”
“No, it wouldn't,” agreed Charlie. He then moved to sit on one of the chairs in the centre of the room, swinging one leg over the other and staring down his nose at Louis in a most business-like fashion; “...So let's not waste any time here, shall we. I suspect, with great certainty, that I am attracted to men. You are a romantic fool who would like to expand your... area of expertise into other fields. One night together would be beneficial to the both of us. Then we'd strictly never speak of this again, got it?”
Louis spent a few moments staring at Charlie as if he was unreal. He looked right now like how Louis imagined those American executives on radio dramas to be, except shorter and with fluffier hair. He was so angry and tense. This wasn't going to do at all.
“Yeah, I'm all in agreement with what we're up to. I came to your house, didn't I?” Louis reminded, “But my particular charms don't work if you're all hunched up at the other end of the room.”
He made his way over to the chair, swinging his hips in a fashion that did nothing but make Charlie frown further. When he got there, Louis placed his hands on both of the chair's arms, looming over Charlie.
“Is this you trying to seduce me?” checked Charlie.
“Oh, come on! If we've gonna do this then you've gotta meet me half way, Charlie-boy!” Louis wailed, throwing his arms up in exasperation.
Charlie shook his head; “I'm beginning to have second-thoughts.”
“All right then, I'll just leave and you can instead experiment with all the other gay boys in Misthallery. I'm sure there's tons of 'em! You can always try asking Roddy or Tony or maybe even Crow,” Louis ranted. As he spoke he headed back out into the hallway to fetch his jacket.
However, before he made it to the door, Charlie had caught up with him.
“You're right, I do suspect I might be... well, if not the only gay in Misthallery then any others would be outside of my interests,” he confessed. After everything that had happened in the past, Crow wasn't even on Charlie's radar.
“So I'm your type?” questioned Louis, his grin returning.
“Don't push your luck. But for tonight I will pretend that you are.”
“Coming from you that sounds like a compliment.”
“You're reading between lines that aren't there. Now come back through to the living room and we'll start again,” Charlie instructed.
“In a minute. I just remembered that I've got something that could help with our romantic evening,” hummed Louis.
He fished through the middle pocket of his jacket and pulled out a very battered looking plastic carrier bag. It seemed to have something inside, but Charlie couldn't tell what and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer enough to ask. Louis, however, seemed satisfied with his find and nodded approvingly at the bag.
“Hurry up!” pressed Charlie, his patience wearing thin.
“You can't rush perfection,” Louis insisted, “Though on that note, I think we'd be better off heading upstairs than through to the living room. Believe me when I say that doing it on a chair isn't the most pleasant way to spend your first time. A good bed is where it's at.”
“In my room... where my sheets could get... stained?” gaped Charlie.
“Yeah, you're right. We should deffo mess up your parents' couch instead,” Louis agreed.
“On second thought, the bedroom will be fine. Right this way,” corrected Charlie.
He led Louis up the stairs and through to his room in a sort of huffy reluctance. It was clear that Charlie would never make a good butler, not that he'd ever have to. And once they reached the room, Louis again had to confess that it was almost exactly how he'd imagined it – everything perfectly pristine and in place, with plush decorations that lent themselves to Charlie's particular aesthetic. The only part Louis hadn't been expecting were the bookshelves full of what appeared to be comics and annuals, though these were also arranged in a very orderly fashion.
“Fancy digs,” Louis whistled, as he took it all in.
“You shouldn't expect anything less from me. Now stop admiring the room and start admiring me,” scolded Charlie.
“Yeah, 'cause your strict attitude is getting me in the mood for sure,” snorted Louis, “Although actually, yeah, we could go for a dominatrix theme, couldn't we? I bet that's right up your street! Bossing people around and making them your slaves.”
“How dare you! I'm sure I will only enjoy the most innocent of... unsavoury activities,” tutted Charlie.
“Believe me lad, there's nothing innocent in that department,” Louis assured.
He headed over to Charlie's bed and placed the carrier bag on the end-table next to it, before jumping on it. The springs hardly made any noise at all. This was easily the newest bed that Louis had jumped on.
“Are you quite finished?” asked Charlie.
With that, he grabbed Charlie's arm and pulled him onto the bed, hugging him tightly from behind. Charlie protested a little at first, batting at Louis's hands, but then he just sighed and half rolled over to get a better look at him.
“We're not here for a snuggle and a sleepover,” he pointed out.
“Gotta have a bit of cuddling to get us in the mood. Isn't this proper nice?” Louis said, his eyes closed and a content expression across his features.
With that, he felt the tension relax from Charlie's frame as he settled into what they were doing. Charlie pressed back against Louis ever so slightly, enough so that Louis could smell the shampoo in his hair. It was all sweet, like candy floss, which was very fitting for Charlie. That boy was all about appearance and, in that department, Louis couldn't fault him. He did a good job of looking good.
After a few moments of this, Charlie awkwardly asked, “Should I... um, kiss you?”
“You can if you want,” replied Louis, with complete indifference.
“A-all right, I believe that I will. Only this will be... well, the first time that I've kissed anyone who isn't m-my parents or my Gran,” he confessed.
Louis's eyes snapped open and he regarded Charlie critically.
“You mean you've never so much as snogged a guy and you're wanting us to do the deed tonight?” he checked.
“Do be serious – you said so yourself that Misthallery isn't exactly swimming in men of my persuasion,” Charlie reminded.
“And here I thought that you and Finch swapped saliva on a regular basis,” joked Louis.
“I'm this close to throwing you out!” Charlie warned.
“Okay, okay, we can have a nice little smooch to get us started.”
With that, he puckered his lips and started making off-putting sucking noises. Naturally, Charlie was repulsed and it took him a second to compose himself enough to daintily place his own lips against Louis's, having returned to being as tense as he was before. Louis then lifted a hand up to stroke through Charlie's hair. It was soft to the touch and slightly springy, but in a much nicer way that Louis's own matted mop was. He was a little worried that he was maybe going too far, but to the contrary it seemed that Charlie quickly became interested. After some hesitation, he pushed Louis back against the headboard, licking longingly at his lips. Of course Louis opened his mouth to let Charlie's tongue inside – he didn't want to be rude. And by the time they pulled away, Louis was already getting excited enough to maybe reconsider his stance on being exclusively a ladies man.
“Fukkin' hell, Curly...” he gasped.
“Shh, don't ruin the moment,” Charlie soothed, lifting up a hand to silence Louis, “If I don't think about it then I can almost pretend you're someone attractive.”
“That's rich, coming from the person who just snogged my face off!” Louis scoffed.
“No, that wasn't snogging or anything near that vulgar,” informed Charlie, “That was merely me trying to... create the mood.”
“You did a good job then, I'm already half-hard,” Louis chuckled.
“Do be serious!” Charlie snorted.
To prove his point, Louis bucked up against Charlie, who conveniently had him straddled. He then watched as Charlie's face went as red as could be. But regardless of how embarrassed he was he didn't move from his position.
“W-well then... I do think we're ready to get started...” he mumbled.
“Nu-uh, not even close,” Louis argued, “You think it's just a case of whipping off our pants and poking it in places? Especially since this is your first time, innit? We need to be proper ready.”
Charlie sighed and sat up straight, folding his arms impatiently. He was awkwardly sat pressing down on Louis's... little problem and Louis more than suspected he was doing that on purpose.
“Hurry up then!” Charlie insisted.
“What do you expect me to do while you've got me pinned? At least go into my bag if you're not gonna let me up,” Louis said, “I've got some lube in there.”
“Ah... I guess we will need that,” agreed Charlie, once again embarrassed.
With that he moved to fetch the shopping bag, rummaging through it for the tube. However, what he grabbed hold of wasn't anything of the sort. Louis watched with some amusement as Charlie dropped something onto the bed with a metallic clang and recoiled in horror.
“What on earth are those!” he demanded.
“Handcuffs, what do they look like?” Louis replied, without skipping a beat, “I even picked out some that have a fluffy pink trim to go with your sense of style. Aren't I considerate?”
“Did you... really think for a second that we'd be using these?” quizzed Charlie, still staring at them as if they were poisonous.
“Nah, I didn't know for sure, like. But you've gotta keep your options open with stuff like that,” Louis honestly answered.
After taking a moment to consider, Charlie concluded, “Maybe... once we've gotten more into it. Not to start off with, but if you misbehave I could tie you down with them.”
“Ooh, I like that,” purred Louis.
“I had a feeling you might. But for now, let's get back to the matter at hand,” Charlie insisted. He ignored some of the other unsavoury items in the bag as he rummaged through for the lube, eventually pulling it out with a firm nod; “So you're going to... put this on for me?”
“I'll need you to take your pants off first,” Louis pointed out.
“I know that much, I'm not an idiot,” snapped Charlie.
With that, he balanced on his knees and made a show of taking them off. Even though he was clumsy about it, Charlie still managed to uphold a weird sort of elegance that was hypnotic to look at. Part of Louis felt that, should this go well, he wouldn't mind seeing more of Charlie. He reached forward to stroke down the smooth skin on his thighs, which made Charlie shudder and whimper in need.
“You... you sure you wanna do this?” Louis checked.
Charlie pressed forward and kissed Louis, rougher this time. He reached down to give the package in Louis's pants a squeeze, making Louis whimper loudly.
“...I'm certain,” Charlie whispered, as the two of them pulled apart.
“Then let's get started with the... the... door?”
Louis hadn't meant to say that, but neither of them could ignore the sudden noise from downstairs as the front door was loudly pulled open. Both of their eyes grew wide and they stared out into the hallway in horror.
“Charlie! Where are you, son? Come and help your mother with her bags!” boomed a voice that Louis could only assume belonged to Charlie's dad.
“I'll be there in a minute, Father!” cried Charlie.
“What do you mean you'll be there in a minute?” Louis hissed.
Charlie's gaze shifted suddenly from the door back onto Louis, as if he was seeing him for the first time; “You need to leave. Now.”
“Do you want me to just waltz down there and say good evening to your folks on my way out?” Louis asked.
“Of course not! There's a gutter outside my window, you can climb down that,” Charlie replied. He was already pulling his pants back on as he spoke.
“Who do you think I am, Badger? If I grab onto that drain it'll come clean off the wall,” Louis wailed.
“Who are you talking to up there?” shouted Charlie's dad, making them both jump.
“No one, it's just the radio, Father!” assured Charlie. Then he returned his glare to Louis; “...That's your problem. Now get out!”
He picked up the carrier bag from where it had been discarded on the bed and thrust it into Louis's chest. At this point Louis realised that there was no going back and between the two options, falling flat on the pavement somehow sounded preferable to dealing with the wrath of Charlie's dad.
Without looking back, Louis swiftly climbed off the bed and headed over to Charlie's window. Unfortunately it looked out upon the street, but it seemed that both of Charlie's parents had now disappeared into the house with all their bags. If he was quick about it, hopefully he could get out without them noticing him. So he pulled it open and wriggled his way out into the open air. The foggy Misthallery evenings had never seemed chillier than they did right now. Before he could grab hold of the drainpipe, a thought hit him and he stared back at Charlie.
“Wait, what about my handcuffs?”
They were still sat on the bed where Charlie had left them, glinting over at him as if they were waving goodbye.
“Those are mine now. Just leave!” Charlie pressed.
“I'll dump it on the roadside once everything settles down, presuming my parents don't notice and ask questions. If they do then I'm afraid I'll also have to take that as my own,” Charlie hurriedly stated.
“You're a cruel master, but all right then...” sighed Louis.
With that, he grabbed hold of the drainpipe and disappeared out of sight from the window. Just like he suspected, the pipe didn't hold his weight very well and threatened to come detached from the wall. Thankfully Louis could tell that it would support his weight until he reached the ground, but it wouldn't be without some serious damage to the Gibson family's drainage. Although after all that he'd been through, Louis felt that this was the least payment they owed him.
As he thumped down onto the cobblestones, Louis could hear the faint voice of Charlie's mother carry out through the still open door.
“Whose is this coat, Charles? Did you have a friend stay over?”
“No, Mother. Gran sent it as a present. It isn't my style, but I wouldn't want to offend her by telling her so.” This was the traitorously innocent reply Charlie gave her.
Oh well, Louis would have to give up that jacket for lost. It wasn't as if it was his favourite anyway, just a slightly nicer one that he'd worn this evening in hopes to impress Charlie. Apparently it wasn't his type, like Louis himself. But maybe that was for the best.
As Louis turned to saunter down the street towards the rope bridges, he concluded that there were probably worse ways he could have spent his evening. And if anyone asked at least he could now say that he's been with a guy, even if that wasn't entirely true. It wasn't as if Charlie would be butting in to clarify the details any time soon.
“I thought you were going to leave me perched high and dry, just like Sean did. Can you believe he ditched us to go see the Bardes again? Not coo', man,” whistled Finch, as Charlie came to join him in front of the library the next day.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes. Sean is lame,” agreed Charlie, who wasn't even pretending to pay attention to the conversation.
“His loss though. He'll be the one chirping protests when we don't let him roost with us any more,” Finch continued. Then he paused to look at Charlie properly; “...Is that a new jacket? I don't think I've seen you wear it before.”
Charlie took a moment to self-consciously tug the jacket closer to himself. It was a bit big for him and looked very baggy, not the style Charlie usually liked to go with. It also smelt a quite musky, like it had been the victim of far too much cheap cologne. But something about it was... nice. Not that he'd ever admit that.
“What, this old thing? It's nothing special. I'm wearing it once, but I don't think I will again. It's really not for me.”