Missed Connections And Lost Opportunities

by UneducatedAuthor

Summary:

Charles can't help but miss his best friend. It's been a long time since they've seen each other, but when you know what it is to have Edwin Payne as your best friend, you can't really forget it. But he has a good life now, he's building something Edwin would be happy to see. He even has a new favourite podcast, and the host of Dead Boy Detective is pretty aces. It would be awesome to ever meet him, but the guy is kind of famous for his privacy. Charles gets it.

(In which Charles is a Youtuber who loves the host of his favourite podcast, and Edwin is the infamous Dead Boy Detective, who never plans a face reveal, but misses his friend from high school, who he considers the love of his life. When Charles past comes back to bite him, old rocks are underturned, but the two find each other again.)

Notes:

• For JUBE514, muirgen_lys, Wildhaggisis.

Posting this so the draft doesn't get deleted, made that mistake before XD Chapter 2 should be up soon-ish? Hope you all like the story that'll unravel!

Will definitely change the summary later, but generally this is a Social Media Missed Connections AU, where Charles and Edwin seem to keep missing each other, but fate always has a plan for them.

I'll add more relevent tags and a better note later, but this premise was sparked by JUBE514, so credit goes towards them! They're an absolutely wonderful person, so I hope to do their idea justice, and thank you so much for letting me in the sandbox! There were other contributors who I'll add, either as co-creators or I'll gift the work to them, but for now, I hope you like what has been written so far. Thank you all for reading!

Chapter 1

Present Day - Charles Aged 26, Edwin Aged 27

 

Truthfully, Charles had never intended to end up on the internet. It hadn’t exactly been an accident, per se, but when he reflected back on his 18 year old self’s intentions for his life, ‘social media personality’ hadn’t been close to anywhere on the list. It still felt awkward, introducing himself as that, even though more recent years, he hadn’t actually been ‘introducing’ himself all that much, more just saying ‘oh, yes, that Charles’. Which felt like a wholly separate form of surreality, but Charles has always been one to roll with the punches. Who would have known that uploading that first video with shaky footage and horrific sound editing would be the beginning of something wonderful.

 

Still, sitting in a comfy chair, game paused to chatter with friends (Crystal insisted that he keep a healthy boundary between ‘friends’ and ‘fans’ but he’d been terrible at that), he hardly found it a bad place to be. He laughed, a little embarrassed, as a flurry of questions raced in all at once. There was a world of difference now, between talking because nobody had asked him to stop yet, and talking because people wanted to hear him. His eyes flickered through the questions in practised motion.

 

“Right, I’m trying to answer these in order, just gimme a second! Uhhhh, Quippy, yes I do post music! It’s nothing professional, but I practise guitar with a couple of mates, and you can find clips on it on my channel. Jaybird, I’m reading this book series about two ghosts who investigate murders with the help of the deceased, there’s going to be a video going up with me and Monty on his channel about it soon. I really like it so far, so I’m really grateful to have been recommended it! JackInTheBox, I’m not really much of a reader, but I’m big on audiobooks. My best friend would read to me when we were in high school, and I was fully spoiled, so now I can’t actually struggle through words on a page.” He gives a self effacing sort of laugh, shrugging in a what-can-you-do-about-it sort of sense. A flurry of reassurance came through, and he felt his heart pang in hopeless affection.

 

One message caught his eye and he had to laugh. ‘Charles fails going ten minutes without mentioning his high school sweetheart’ stood out, partially because it was an old joke, familiar like a well worn coat, and partially because Charles will recognise Edwin anywhere.

 

It’s true, honestly. Charles can’t help it. He’s never said Edwin’s name aloud, he wonders if he even can, but Edwin echoes throughout Charles’ life, and everyone can hear the ringing. He can’t help it, hadn’t even noticed until one of his fans had made a near hour long compilation of every throwaway mention and side anecdote that was so obviously about one person.

 

‘Oh.’ Charles had thought, off guard and unsurprised. Just that. ‘Oh.’

 

“I don’t think I’m that bad guys.” Charles lies, knowing exactly how bad he is. “One last question, before we get back to the game?” That’s another lie, probably. Charles is horrible at ‘one last’ or ‘just one more’, he can’t help it. He can’t not respond when someone wants him to talk to them.

 

He skims through a few comments before finding a question he’s excited to answer. He grins, excited to talk about his latest obsession. “Oh hey, I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk about this! Koko just asked whether I’m currently listening to an audiobook or podcast, and I just finished binging pretty much everything that Dead Boy Detective has ever created.” He sees a smattering of exclamation marks and some questioning remarks, but keeps talking. He’d been waiting for a chance to talk about this since he’d first stumbled across the channel, and he can’t help but gush. “I’m not someone for true crime generally, it always feels kind of…” He struggles to place his words. “Cruel? To like, see someone pull open the worst day of someone’s life for entertainment purposes. I don’t have the heart for it. But like, I really adored listening to him. Far as I can tell, he’s not part of an agency or something. At least, if he is sponsored or part of an organisation, there’s no information about it in his bio. But he’s big into investigation, not just shoving his own opinions into a case, but actually checking out the lines of questioning and possible blind spots an investigation missed. Anyone who’s near York might remember this old case where his got a captain dismissed after proving lack of competence? That was his work.” Charles checks the timer at the top of the screen. Crystal has an unofficial rule for Q&A’s, no longer than 30 seconds a question. But Charles can’t help it. “I’m not someone who likes podcasts as a general rule, and if you’re sensitive to discussions based around violence or crime, it might not be right for you. But I really wanted the chance to talk about him, because it’s really been an amazing time working through his stuff, so thank you for giving me an opening Koko!” He paused, because someone’s asked ‘why?’

 

That question kind of grips to Charles, doesn’t let go of him. He’s full of unresolved questions and regrets, and he’s glad for it most days because regrets are the scars of the best part of his life. He was an inquisitive kid, one of the gabby ones. He’d tag along behind his mother pulling at the back of her tunic, begging for explanations and details. Why did she need a different chopping board, why a different dupatta? Why did clothes need to be cleaned, and why did he need clean clothes just for sleeping? Why did they have to be quiet when dad was home, and why didn’t his father love him?

 

Charles was an inquisitive kid, until one day his father gave him a pretty strong answer.

 

Charles kept his questions to himself for a while after that.

 

Then, Edwin.

 

Charles had liked asking Edwin. It wasn’t that Edwin knew everything, it was that he valued everything. Edwin found the stupid questions important, and made Charles feel like he was well smart, just for not knowing something. If Charles asked ‘why is the sky blue’ Edwin would probably respond with something about Charles having an analytical mind and a willingness to unravel and critically interact with the world around him.

 

Edwin left, and took his answers with him. Edwin left, and gave Charles a universe of questions.

 

“I guess, he seems like a good bloke. Like, not just a good investigator or editor, but a good guy. He talks about these people, these events like they matter, not just to him, but to us. That sort of voice, you know? I don’t know how to say it, but if you’ve watched him, you’ll feel it.” Charles shrugs, something ashamed in the vulnerability. “It matters.” He repeats it, because it’s true. Charles knows what it is to not matter, to know that nothing matters. That horrible things happen and it is the duty of the hurt to grow around it and away from it.

 

He blinks away from the chat box and coughs, turning his focus to the screen. “Back to the game then?” He’s sure Crystal will yell at him, the flurry of responses he’s actively choosing to ignore. He hadn’t really meant to say that much, but he’s helpless to. He hadn’t even noticed until…

 

Charles laughs, clicking play on the game, something short and humoured without sincerity. He’s ridiculous. He smiles, because it’s familiar and misses Edwin something fierce.

 

Fifteen Years Earlier - Charles Aged 11, Edwin Aged 11

 

Charles scowled, hunkered away in the corner of the library, behind the staticky itchy chairs that were supposed to be vibrant and colourful, but instead looked off, all radioactive and menacing. There was an odd, vaguely sulphurous sort of smell, and a constant chill.

 

Perfect, if you wanted to remain undisturbed.

 

Charles was wrestling with his latin textbook. Not literally, because he was actually pretty good at wrestling, the best within his weight class. Instead, he was trying to figure out what the fuck a declension was, and how that helped Charles figure out what the gender of the fella talking was.

 

The door to the side room opened with a quiet sort of hiss, and Charles jolted, inexplicably feeling like he’d been caught doing something wrong. It was instinct, to assume he was at fault, that he’d be punished. But it wasn’t the librarian who, while polite, kept a stern eye on him and always insisted on checking his bag when he left, nor was it one of his mates who would probably laugh that he still had trouble with the dative case.

 

They were good mates, and Charles meant that. But Charles didn’t want them to think he was stupid, or to prove to them that he was.

 

It was Edwin, and Charles felt his heart jump. His mouth went dry, and Edwin looked startled, caught off guard even. Which was the last thing Charles wanted when it came to the guy. The alarmed, maybe upset reaction made something bitter and cold unfurl, and he smiled as an instinct, attempting to demonstrate how safe he was to be around. “Hey!” He said, and wanted to hit himself for how eager-to-please it came out. He tried to compensate by bringing his smile to more of a casual, self assured level of acknowledgment, nodding at Edwin.

 

Shit. It could have been anyone. But Edwin Payne was the one person that Charles genuinely just… Had no clue on how behave around. He wasn’t really one of the sporty lads, but wasn’t exactly one of the bookworms either. He didn’t really have any friends, but nobody could say that he was quiet. He was the smartest guy in their year, probably, but when people called him ‘arrogant’ Charles couldn’t help but disagree.

 

Edwin was smarter than near everyone, but he wasn’t arrogant. He was a pretty good bloke, when it came down to it. Or at least, he seemed like one. Charles hadn’t really taken the time to get to know him.

 

No time like the present to change that, he guessed. So he shot a bright sort of smile, as though he’d expected to see him, and hoped that it didn’t betray just how nervous he was. “Good to see you mate, sorry if I’m taking your spot in the library.”

 

Edwin fixed him with a firm sort of look. Not stern, exactly, but hardly welcoming. More sort of assessing.

 

“You need not apologise. The library is a public space for all students, and nobody has the right to reserve any part of it. You are very welcome to stay here.” He stepped forward, and there was something aching in it, like the throbbing of a bruise.

 

Charles grins, helpless not to. He kind of sees where the whole chatter around Edwin being ‘stuck up’ came from now, the lad was definitely a little put offish. But it hardly felt stuck up or arrogant, more so just, a firm kind of reassurance. It was actually kind of affirming, to be honest. Edwin was like that. He was good at reassuring you that you belonged, even if it wasn’t in the most obvious way. It’s kind of cool, that he didn’t play lip service or false flattery to read people. It must be pretty mint, to go through life completely certain in your own judgement, without making an effort to endear yourself to others, or appease their feelings.

He sticks out his hand, the old fashioned gesture somehow feeling appropriate for the wonderful boy with his own stride through life. Edwin, with a slow, but not judgmental blink took Charles’ hand slowly, eyes flickering down like he was expecting a trick. Charles fought the urge to giggle, because it would be awfully inappropriate.

 

“I’m Charles.”

 

“I’m aware. We have been classmates for approximately five months.”

 

“Yeah, I know that Edwin, but we haven’t introduced ourselves to each other, professional like. It’s important to, so we can become friends.”

 

Edwin’s hand spasmed in Charles hand, and his eyes grew wide, though with a shocked sort of surprise rather than disgust, which wasn’t too bad.

 

“You wish to be friends?” With me was a somewhat silent addition to that sentence, but Charles heard it, and couldn’t help but want to smile. He’d been speaking with Edwin all of ten minutes and he couldn’t stop wanting to grin.

“I think we’ll have an aces time together.” He says, and it’s a little too honest, even as it’s saturated with teenage cheek. “I’ve got a good feeling about this sort of thing, don’t I?”

 

“That’s…. That’s not how you make decisions.” Edwin seems genuinely confused, caught at odds with Charles signature impulsivity, but his hand hasn’t left Charles. If anything, his fingers have curled in slightly. “You don’t select these things based on, just, how you’re feeling.”

 

Charles quirks his brows. “Well, if you want, I can sent you a pie chart or something on our projected compatibility if you want. You can look over the data and tell me if you think it would be logical to be friends.”

 

Edwin pressed his lips together, as though he was trying not to smile. “That-oh Charles that is insensible. Even if you could collect data on compatibility, a pie chart would probably be the worst way to present it.”

 

Charles kept his smile wide, not even trying to hide it. “That doesn’t sound like a no mate.”

 

Edwin looked to Charles, a little flustered, but honest and open in his delight. You could tell from the eyes, even when he wasn’t smiling. It would probably feel really great to make him smile. “But… Why?”

 

Charles didn’t really have a reason. But if he did, he might have started looking for it in the first week of classes, during student introductions. It might have been linked to that anxious time where groups were first forming and Charles, for all his efforts and jokes and charm, was more of a floater than an accepted member. It might have been when another kid got moved to their class called Charles and Mark, Mark who had been the one person who’d seemed to remember Charles’ presence and actively invite him over, had loudly said ‘oh, that makes two, but we’ll just call him Charlie.’

 

It might have been nice, if it was a question, said with a smile or affection. Instead, nobody had even looked at Charles, all focused on the new ‘proper lad’ who apparently was some sort of whiz on the cricket pitch, never mind that Charles had been cheerfully volunteering to play fielder in the casual game. It feels so stupid in hindsight, that panic of being overwritten, and even Charles can’t explain why hearing ‘Charlie’ as a new, easy label felt like ants swarming his bones.

 

James had said, later, that ‘Charles Grayson looks more like a Charles, you know? Besides, we all call you Charlie now, it’s no big deal’ and Charles had grinned and promised to get everyone used to calling James ‘Jim’, and relaxed under the laughter, and the implicit approval it gifted him.

 

The point is, Edwin had refuted any use of ‘Charlie’. Had referred to them both as ‘Charles Rowland’ and ‘Charles Grayson’. When people referred to Charles as ‘Charlie’ he has responded strictly with ‘Oh, the other Charles?”

 

It didn’t mean anything, not the nickname, nor Edwin’s dislike of it. It didn’t matter.

 

The point was, Edwin made Charles feel… Better. More solid. Without even meaning to. Maybe Charles just wanted to repay that a little bit.

 

Maybe it’s that simple. Maybe it’s that complicated.

 

If Charles had a reason, it would be because he wants to make Edwin happy. But he doesn’t say that out loud.

 

He grins, and tells Edwin that he thinks he’s pretty aces instead, and it’s the beginning of something wonderful.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Thank you for all those who are reading! I hope you like this update!

Present Day - Charles Aged 26, Crystal Aged 26

 

“You’re my least favourite client.” Crystal snaps, throwing down a file as though it’s personally wronged her, and glaring at Charles because he probably has. “Seriously, I want you to know this. You’re my least favourite client, and I mean that with vengeance.”

 

“Too bad I’m your best friend though.” Charles says with a full mouth, passing her the sour fizzy worms she’ll finish within two hours. “You can’t leave me, I know too much.”

 

“You make me wish I stayed out of the media industry.” Crystal says, in a tone that sounds sweet as cyanide. But she grabs her candy anyway. “I mean this.” She tears the heads off one of the snakes, and chews with vindication.

 

Charles opens the folder. Crystal is a little old school, in that she prefers to print out and commute to her clients, rather than video call to chat. But it was a habit she built during her late teens, when she’d basically gone ground zero when it came to electronics, after her own experience as Icarus. She’s the best manager he could have ever asked for, because she cares more about his wellbeing than his platform.

 

She was also the first manager to reach out to him, and honestly, at twenty years old, Charles was too overwhelmed to be talking to Crystal Palace to actually deliberate on her possible motives. She hadn’t even finished university, and was borderline untouchable in the public space, but she’d looked him in the eye and promised to take care of him. She’d grown up in the public eye, her first steps were broadcast live to a studio audience, and she’d swam in and out of projects as a phenomenal child actor, under the careful curation of her parents. Until she turned sixteen.

 

Mr and Mrs Van Hoverkraft don’t call. Crystal doesn’t either. Crystal and Charles always spend their birthdays together, and pretend they’re not waiting for someone to reach out.

 

He flips open to the analytics page, and feels a quiet relief. It’s a stressful job, and ephemeral. Charles doesn’t hold any delusions that he can do this forever. He’s got the worst sort of mentality for this, Crystal had tutted with a soft sort of eye roll. The slightest dip in viewership brings back fear, that he’s at the beginning of the end, that people will leave, that he’ll be alone again with nothing to his name.

 

Crystal is the closest person in his life that he has right now, and most of his friends are in the general content creation space. Charles is liked but nobody chooses him, nobody keeps him as an option. If he looses this, a whole platform built about his likability, he can’t help but feel like he’ll loose everything and everyone else.

 

Crystal tells him he’s being ridiculous. But Crystal found sanctuary in her isolation. It was different for her, and he thinks that deep down, she knows that.

 

“You should take advantage of your network.” Crystal instructs in a way that almost sounds like it’s an option. “You have the space for collaborations now, but start trying to invite others to your platform, rather than constantly appearing on their channels. And maybe try working with different demographics, or people who you don’t know super well. Monty and Jenny are your friends, but you’re not really attracting their viewer demographic.” She taps a nail with a swirling orange design onto a screenshot of a sweet looking channel. “Niko Sasaki. She’s sweet, and she definitely has a gaming audience. There’s enough overlap that you two can probably benefit from a few appearances on each others channels.”

 

Charles nods, already preparing how to reach out to Niko. He knows that Crystal would probably be willing to, but it feels so… Impersonal that way. Crystal never tires of reminding him that this is a business at the end of the day, but it feels almost manipulative to ask someone to collaborate when he doesn’t know them, just because it will help the numbers.

 

Crystal doesn’t dwell, doesn’t try to soothe him with placation that would only work him up more. “You’re being invited to a con next month, to host a panel. We can discuss the details with the organisers, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove that you work well live. Besides, I’d like to get you into more professional spaces. If we can form a partnership with a brand, it could go well.” She taps a pen against her lip, leaving a smudge of gloss on the head. “Do you want me to say yes?”

 

He’s nodding before she even finishes asking. It’s odd, being on social media, but a lot of the time it feels pretty lonely. He misses hearing people laugh in real time.

 

She taps at her board again, making a check mark. “You’ve been talking about him a lot recently.”

 

Charles laughs, even though he doesn’t want to. “He’s not Voldemort Crystal, you can say his name.”

 

She doesn’t. Laugh that is, but she doesn’t say his name either. Edwin is something of a phantom in this home, they talk around him but never of him. Crystal’s gaze doesn’t falter, and Charles’ does.

 

“It’s his birthday soon.” It’s like a confession. “He’s going to be 26 next week.”

 

Charles doesn’t know where Edwin is, what he’s doing, who he’s with. But he knows that Edwin is turning 26 next week. Its doesn’t mean a lot, but it’s all he has. Crystal softens, and grips his fingers.

 

“I’ll be here.” Even when he isn’t goes unsaid, but not unappreciated. Charles can’t help but love her when she does this. If he hadn’t been so full of an old love, he might have fallen for her. As it is, he just loves her fully. She’s his best friend. Overcome by affection, he kicks at her ankle and she throws a plastic grape at his head.

 

“You’re an idiot.” She says, and she loves him too. “Reach out to Niko. I’ll bring a cake next week. What’s his favourite?”

 

It might have changed. Charles hopes that it hasn’t.

 

“Banana. The type that has nuts in it, preferably walnuts.” Charles hates walnuts, the way they look like little brains, the dry aftertaste they leave in his mouth. But he loves Edwin’s favourite cake because it tastes like good memories. “If you can get one with peaches as a topping, that’s even better. No icing though.” Crystal wrinkles her nose but taps at her notepad anyway. She knows the best bakeries in the city, has them marked out like an assassin knows the blind spots of cameras. Perks of growing up rich, he guesses. He wants to say thank you, but she hits him sometimes if she thinks he’s getting too emotional. He grabs an apple and cuts it for her instead, his thumb slipping on the first one and making the piece wonky. She smiles anyway.

 

“He has good taste in friends, but horrible taste in cake. You can leave it to me.”

 

Fifteen Years Earlier - Charles Aged 12, Edwin Aged 12

 

“You didn’t need to go to any effort Charles.” Edwin sounds genuinely put out, but there’s a soft flush to his ears that give away how pleased he is. Edwin’s precious in that way. He acts so offended when you do something nice, as though the effort is something poisonous, as though it has teeth. Charles has learned to take the acerbic bristling with a smile and gentle patience. Edwin’s getting better at accepting kindness, and he’s not shy to praise Charles’ efforts. It’s oddly rewarding to see the hackles come down, when Edwin softens, confident that Charles isn’t pulling some complex sort of scheme, but simple and forthright in his affection.

 

Charles beams, pushing the cake forward and lighting the candles with his contraband lighter. “Course I did. You’re my best mate, innit? You’re my favourite person in this place.” St Hilarions was great, one of the top schools in the country. But it was almost exhausting. Before Edwin, Charles had felt tired. Tired of being the Indian kid, the benefits kid, ‘Charlie'. Too many labels. The only one that felt comfortable was ‘Edwin’s friend’. It would be nice if that was all he had to be.

 

Charlie was a mate to all. He was always hanging around the cricket team, their best bowler and almost the best batsman. At least that’s what they all said, beaming and flushed from the high of a victory. He’s almost as brilliant and Jameson, yes that Jameson, from the country club. Oh, Charlie’s never met him, he’s not the right fit, but he’s almost as good, trust. He won’t let us down at inter-house, that’s for sure! He was a riot in English too, cheeky and insisting on reciting Macbeth in a rich scottish accent, ‘for historical accuracy’ he said. Everyone was in stitches, seriously, it was hilarious. Charlie’s welcome in any group or team. He’s at every party, he’s the biggest joker around.

 

Sometimes he feels like a joke. Like a really good punchline and a charming smile.

 

It’s good though. He can’t complain. It’s fun, being Charlie. Charles feels inadequate.

 

Unless he’s with Edwin. Charles and Edwin slot together just right.

 

He nudges his best friend, eager for Edwin to blow out the candles before they trigger the smoke alarm. “Go on then. Make a wish and all that.”

 

Edwin shoots him a wry, though warm, glance and blows out the candles with a somehow dignifies huff. He gets them all in one, and Charles feels inordinately proud. Next year he should get the ones that reignite, just to see Edwin’s face.

 

“Good on ya mate.” He passes Edwin a butter knife, the sharpest thing they’re allowed in dorms. Technically Charles does have a swiss army knife tucked away, but that’s too short for cake. “Good lungs, that’ll take you far in life. Good lungs make a good man, that’s what I always say.” He’s never said that once in his life.

 

“You’ve never said that once in your life.” Edwin’s smiling though. Charles grins back, eager to claim this grin as his own too. Charles takes an ugly sort of possessive joy in that, every time he makes Edwin smile.

 

“Course I did, I said it just now.” He passes Edwin a plate, hoping that the cake is good. He’d asked one of the teachers to use the food tech ovens, heart beating in his throat the whole time he was there. If any of his other mates saw Charlie baking, he would never hear the end of it. Let alone his father.

 

He pushes those thoughts away. Not when he’s with Edwin. Besides, Charles would personally bring pink glazed sugar cookies to the cricket pitch if Edwin wanted. He’d rather have Edwin on his side than all those blokes.

 

Edwin’s knife comes out clean, and Charles congratulates himself on a ‘clean crumb’. It looks just like the picture.

 

“It’s banana, hope that’s okay. You didn’t say what your favourite flavour was, so I chose this one.” Mostly because it seemed like the easiest, though that seemed rude to admit. “There’s some nuts in there too, just so you know.” His heart rate was ramping up until it was a fever pitch in his ears. The sheer idea of Edwin eating Charles’ baking seemed more and more terrifying by the minute. “I didn’t know how to keep buttercream from melting so, I just used peaches.” Which seemed stupid, in hindsight. Who topped a cake with peaches and no frosting?

 

Edwin looked so assessing. So wary, as though he was prepared to dislike it. Charles wanted to know Edwin’s honest opinion, but if Edwin didn’t like it, Charles would probably throw himself out the window. He cast an eye towards the height of their little hideout, tucked away in one of the music rooms. He could probably avoid a trip to the hospital if he aimed for the slanted shed to break his fall.

 

Edwin turned the fork, so the prongs bearing the cake faced Charles. Charles blinked, genuinely confused. Yeah the cake might not be brilliant, but it shouldn’t need a poison test. Edwin seemed flushed, but explained with his own sort of pseudo haughtiness.

 

“You informed me of your own family tradition.” Charles had, though it was less of a tradition. His mother had always fed him the first piece of her own birthday cake, had taken the first bite of his own. It’s like a cross between superstition and gratitude. You feed your blessings to others first. You feed your birthday cake to the people you love, and who love you.

 

His mother had fed his father the first piece of his own cake, not even entertaining the idea of taking the first bite, or giving it to Charles. He wondered if it was fear, of his fathers possible retaliation to being undermined. Or rejection, a sign that she didn’t love him, that she had no blessings for him.

 

Edwin’s ears are red, and he’s offering the cake to Charles. “It’s only proper, since you went to the effort on my behalf.”

 

Charles takes the first bite, and it tastes like bravery and love and conspiracy. He’s no baker, but it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. He takes the fork and replays the gesture inversely, eyes lingering just a touch on the way Edwin’s mouth close around where Charles had just rested.

 

It’s a good day. Charles hopes that the two of them will have many more.

 

Three months later, someone asks Edwin what his favourite cake flavour is. Nobody asks Charlie why the answer ‘banana cake with peaches’ makes him smile.

 

Charles-And-Edwin don't need to ask. They already know. Charles resolves, every birthday with Edwin, they'll have cake. May it always taste of good memories.

Notes:

Some cultural references (nothing too deep, just general terminology of british schooling. 'Interhouse' is like a tournament between the different 'houses' or factions of the school. Yes, like Hogwarts, except they're divided by year group. 'Food Tech' is our version of 'Home Ec' as far as I can tell, mostly just learning about nutrition and how to cook. Granted, some all boys schools don't teach it but like. Shut up.

Thanks for reading this ramble paragraph, and I hope to hear from y'all! Hope you all have the most wonderful of days.

Notes:

Thanks you for reading! Would love to hear from you!