Fic: Numb3rs, Casual Lies, Charlie/Colby (PG)
So I'm Changing the way I post my fic. It's all going here and then being linked to from whatever comm I share with, so sorry if I crowd anyone's f-list.
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing/Characters: Charlie Eppes/Colby Granger
Rating: PG
Word Count: 415
Disclaimer: Numb3rs does not belong to me
Prompt: 2225: Numb3rs, Charlie Eppes, He told his Dad he’d leave a note on the fridge if he got a girlfriend. Which begs the question of what he’s going to do now that he’s got a boyfriend.
Summary: Charlie Lies to himself all the time.
Warnings: None.
Notes: My failed entry for lgbt ficathon . I could not enter this because it does not meet the minimum word count, but I quite like it so I thought I’d Share. For all the evil enabling and beautiful people at n3_slashchat
Casual Lies
He tells himself he doesn’t know what he wants, that he’s confused. That it’s wrong to want so badly. He should take the smart and beautiful woman that everyone thinks he should have, that he’s pretty sure he could have if he tries hard enough.
He tells himself it’s his father’s fault; always harping on about grandkids and that his boys should settle down.
He tells himself it’s Don’s fault. The smirks and the hints, “Go on Charlie.” Don says. “Ask her out. She likes you.”
He tells himself it’s Colby’s fault. Tempting him; the secret smiles, the teasing nickname. “Hey Whizz-Kid.” Colby greets him in the bull pen. A hand on his shoulder; squeezing just a little too much and lingering just a little too long.
He tells himself it can be secret, no one has to know; they’re not going to notice the way Colby’s eyes follow him everywhere. They don’t have to know how much that stare burns into his back every time he walks away.
He tells himself he’s not hurting anyone; dinner with Amita, the way his father’s eyes light up with hope when he sees him with her, the way Don is happy because he’s dating someone.
He tells himself, it doesn’t mean anything. The way Colby kisses him, like Charlie is the only person in the whole world. Like this is something that Colby craves.
He tells himself he’s not falling in love, when he lays with Colby in the moonlight; tracing equations across the other man’s broad chest.
He tells himself he’s not a coward, when the only way he can find to tell anyone is a post-it note on the door of the refrigerator.
He tells himself that it will be alright, that his family will understand, that they will still love him, even when he can’t give them what they want.
He tells himself that he’s not hiding in his math; that the argument he can hear in the kitchen isn’t about him, that Don doesn’t sound angry, that his father doesn’t sound hurt.
He tells himself he should stay. He should talk to Don, to his Dad, explain to them; why, when and who.
He tells himself he shouldn’t be here. At Colby’s door, asking, no begging, to be let in. To find some sort of sanctuary.
He tells himself he shouldn’t cry, shouldn’t hold onto Colby, gripping his shirt like a drowning man.
He tells himself that he should stop lying to himself.