It's been a couple of days, a strange fucking couple of days. They've got back to sharing a bed, curled together in the middle of the big mattress, but Charlie's been wearing t-shirts and baggy pants to bed and he's found himself shying away after the briefest of kisses. That strange, tight, nervous feeling in his stomach still hasn't gone. He
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He teased Charlie's nipple with a graze of teeth, slipping his hand under the waistband of Charlie's trousers to find his cock and stroke him slowly.
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"Are you...just going to jerk me off?"
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"No," he said, smiling. He sat up enough so he could start to pull Charlie's trousers and pants down, but kept his eyes on Charlie. "Unless... you want me to?"
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"That's, you know. That's not what I want."
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Every time they do this, he remembers the first time he explained this to Edmund, and how fucking funny it had been.
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Ed took him deeper, bobbing his head up and down the length at a steady pace, taking his own time with it for his own pleasure, having missed the salty, warm taste of Charlie's skin on his tongue.
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"Jesus, Ed."
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"Suck," he murmured huskily, stroking Charlie still, slowly, with his free hand.
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Charlie had sort of known that that was coming, which doesn't make it any less good. It's only been a couple of days since they were togehter like this but it feels like forever, which is kind of the way that things go when you're seventeen.
Charlie rocks his hips between Ed's mouth and his hand and he's pretty sure that he knew actual words, once, but he can't really remember any of them now.
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"Oh, Jesus."
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