by Ashley John
With that, she sped off down the street without a second glance back at her late father's house.
“Well she seemed lovely,” Oliver said.
Slotting the key into the rusty lock, Oliver fiddled with it for a few minutes before the door finally swung open. A strong, musty smell started to emanate from the dark house.
“Fucking hell,” Oliver coughed, clutching his nose, “did she leave his body in here? It stinks!”
Once inside the small house, Oliver tried to flick the light switch on, but the power had already been cut.
“Get those curtains open so we can look around properly,” Oliver gagged, “and open a window too. We might be here a while.”
As Charlie flung the dusty curtains open, light flooded into the house to reveal battered and stained furniture that looked like it hadn't been cleaned or replaced since the First World War.
“This is like a museum,” Charlie cried, “it’s ugly.”
Oliver wanted to agree, but from the sound of things, Sarah didn't have much choice. Everything in Oliver's house was brand new and his bed cost more than most people earned in a year.
“It's not so bad,” Oliver lied, “we'll get it all cleaned up on the other end and it's probably solid furniture.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow at Oliver's less than convincing optimism.
“They really don't make them like this anymore,” Oliver said as he examined a scratched up chest of drawers next to the brown sofa that had multiple weird stains on it.
“For a reason,” Charlie called from the bedroom, “the bed's not so bad.”
Oliver joined Charlie in the bedroom, and it wasn't luxury, but at least it looked clean. In any other situation, he'd just offer Charlie the money to buy new furniture, but he knew he'd never accept it. He gained access to his trust fund when he turned 18, but he'd yet to find a reason to dip into the ridiculous amount of money his parents had set aside for him.
“We better start, I think we're going to be here for a while,” Oliver sighed, clapping his hands together, “start with the bedside tables, they look decent enough.”
Oliver watched Charlie bend down in his vest top and pick up the small chest of drawers next to the bed. He admired his arms tense and flex as he did. They weren't as impressive as Oliver's guns, but he found it sexy none the less.
He craved those arms to be wrapped around him.
And those legs.
***
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Charlie panted and gasped for air.
“This is so much more exhausting than I was expecting,” Charlie moaned.
He admired the nearly empty house after what felt like hours of lifting and carrying the heaviest pieces of furniture he'd ever encountered. Charlie glanced over at Oliver, who was stood in the doorway, but he'd barely broken a sweat and he was wearing jeans and a polo shirt.
“There's probably enough room in the van for a few more pieces,” Oliver said, “we're going have to drive back so slowly, it's gonna weigh a ton!”
Charlie peaked into the bedroom and eyed up the bulky wardrobe that was sitting next to the window. He'd been avoiding trying to tackle it, but as he stared at the dust free rectangles on the stained carpet, he knew it was the last piece they really needed.
“Help me shift this,” Charlie sighed, walking over to the heavy oak wardrobe.
“It's pretty heavy,” Oliver teased, “I could probably lift it, but are you sure you're up to it?”
Charlie could feel the sweat running down his face, but he quickly wiped it away.
“You're such a cheeky fucker, you know that?”
“Really? I've been told my fucking is more passionate than cheeky.”
Oh, you're so full of yourself.
“C'mon, get on the other side,” Charlie laughed, slapping the heavy wood of the ornate wardrobe.
“Just make sure to bend from the knees,” Oliver said, squeezing in between the wall and the wardrobe.
“I'm not stupid,” Charlie snapped back, bending down and trying to heave the wardrobe up.
Oliver's end lifted up a good six inches, but Charlie could only manage two.
“Maybe we should leave this one,” Oliver called from the other side.
“No,” Charlie snapped through gritted teeth as he tried to lift it again, “I'm fine.”
Just as he said that, he felt something pop in the bottom of his back. Charlie screwed his eyes up and dropped the wardrobe as he felt the searing pain shoot up his spine.
“What did I tell you?” Oliver cried, dropping the wardrobe and running over to Charlie who was now doubled over, leaning again the window frame.
Charlie winced through the pain as he tried to stretch his back out, but it felt impossible.
“Try and stand up. It might hurt, but it's the best thing for you to do,” Oliver said softly, placing his hand gently on Charlie's arm.
Putting all of his weight onto the wooden window frame, he slowly unraveled his back, and stood up straight.
“Better?” Oliver said quietly.
“A little,” Charlie winced.
“Don't scare me like that,” Oliver laughed.
He raised his hand and softly ran the back of his fingers down Charlie's cheek. It sent a blinding hot feeling shooting down to his stomach, dulling the pain in his back. Gazing into Oliver's warm eyes, his heart started to flutter in his chest.
“I'll try not to,” Charlie whispered.
Oliver closed his eyes and lent in to gently plant a kiss on Charlie's waiting lips, he almost forgot he was in a smelly and dusty house. The kiss quickly escalated and soon Oliver's body was pressed up against his. He didn't care that he was pressing his painful back into the wooden window frame, the urge to touch every part of Oliver was too strong. He could feel Oliver's rock solid shaft pressing up against his.
God, I want to touch it.
As if he was hearing his thoughts, Oliver guided his hand down the front of his tight jeans and Charlie was soon clutching Oliver's straining cock. Charlie wasn't even thinking it was the first guy’s cock he'd ever touched as he let Oliver explore his mouth with his tongue. Oliver quickly slid his hands down the front of Charlie's baggy shorts, and clutched it tightly in his hands. Charlie shuddered as he felt Oliver rubbing his cock at lightning speed. He tried to react by doing the same to Oliver, but there wasn't enough room in the front of his jeans.
“Slow down,” Charlie gasped through the kissing, “I'm close.”
Oliver growled and closed his eyes again, and grabbed the back of Charlie's head with his free hand, pulling him into a fiery kiss. Instead of slowing down, his hand sped up even faster, making Charlie's body tense up. It's happening. His hand stopped his vigorous caressing of Oliver's erection, instead he just rested it there as his body doubled over and he let the warm liquid ooze out into his underwear.
Almost instantly, Charlie pulled his hand from Oliver's jeans as Oliver broke the kiss with a satisfied smile on his face.
“I'm so embarrassed,” Charlie mumbled as he felt the wet patch spreading throughout the front of his shorts.
Oliver winked and took a step back.
“Don't worry, I'll take it as a compliment,” Oliver smiled reassuringly.
Deciding to leave the wardrobe behind, they headed out into the hot sunlight and left the key under the most obvious plant pot that sat next to the battered front door.
As he sat uncomfortably in the van craving a change of underwear, he couldn't stop thinking about Oliver and what had just happened. Despite his sex life being very much a solo experience this far, the way Oliver touched him sent shivers down his spine, still yearning for more. As they traveled back towards the town, with the ambient colors of the coast flashing past the van, he glanced at Oliver from the corner of his eye. The lust had gone, but what remained scared and excited him in equal measure.
Chapter 1
4
As they pulled up outside the ice cream parlor, Charlie gazed up at the tiny window a
bove that was to become his new home and instantly regretted how much furniture they'd hoarded from the house.
“Where's your mother?” Oliver asked, “I thought you said she'd be meeting us here.”
“She did say she would,” Charlie said, looking up and down the street.
“Give her a call,” Oliver said.
“I don't have a cellphone,” Charlie sighed craning his neck down Main Street.
He could see the diner and wondered if his mother was in there finishing up for the day.
“I keep forgetting you don't have a cellphone,” Oliver said apologetically.
“Well we can't all be rich,” Charlie snapped, “I've never been able to afford one.”
Charlie instantly regretted mentioning it. He knew how Oliver felt about his money.
“Sorry,” Charlie mumbled, “I'm just a bit stressed. My back is still hurting.”
And my underwear is starting to stick to the hairs on my legs.
“It's cool,” Oliver said casually, “Oh, she's there.”
Charlie looked to where Oliver was looking and spotted his mother running down the street with Poppy's hand clutched in hers.
When Charlie opened the doors to the van, they all stared at the dusty furniture, but Charlie couldn't help but feel a little deflated when his mother didn't start to jump up and down for joy at what they'd scavenged.
“It's a bit...rustic,” she said.
“We worked really hard all afternoon,” Charlie moaned.
“Sorry, I'm sure it's all great,” she smiled, “thanks boys.”
She ruffled Charlie's hair, which Oliver seemed to find amusing. After fixing his hair, they started to unload the furniture and dump it outside of the ice cream parlor. There was a small red door which Charlie presumed was the apartment.
When the van was empty and the sidewalk was full of different shades of brown wood, she fiddled with the old lock and the door swung open to reveal a narrow staircase plastered in dark floral wallpaper.
“I don't like it,” Poppy exclaimed, “It's not pink!”
“We can paint it pink,” his mother said reassuringly, yet badly disguising her nervousness.
“You have been to look at it haven't you?” Charlie asked.
Just from the look on his mother's face he could tell she hadn't.
“Not exactly,” she said sheepishly.
Oh great, we could be moving into a crack den.
“But the man who owns it was so sweet and he promised me it was a nice little apartment.”
“As long as the man was sweet,” Charlie rolled his eyes.
Oliver caught his eye and gave him an eyeball telling off.
“Someone's a bit tetchy,” she said.
“He hurt his back, I suppose we can't all be in the running for Mr. Universe,” joked Oliver playfully.
Oliver flexed his biceps like a strong man contestant and his mother laughed, which only made Charlie feel worse. Poppy pushed through her mother's legs and ran up the stairs, leaving them all alone at the doorway.
“I guess we should go and have a look then,” Charlie said.
He followed his mother up the stairs, with Oliver behind him. He felt Oliver's hand firmly squeeze his butt and when he turned around in surprise, Oliver gave him a look that told him 'I'm allowed now'. Charlie quickly turned around and jogged up the last few stairs, trying not to smile to himself. There's going to be plenty more of that, I can feel it.
The rest of the apartment was covered in the same bottle green floral wallpaper, which made the whole place eerily dark. It had a similar smell to the poor old man's house they'd ransacked.
“It's not so bad,” his mother said optimistically.
“It's ugly,” Poppy wailed, “I want to stay with Aunt Evelyn in the princess house.”
“We can make this our home,” Charlie said ruffling Poppy's red locks, not believing it himself.
A small, prehistoric kitchen lined the back wall, with another small window crammed awkwardly above the stove. Four doors led off to what Charlie presumed were the bedrooms and bathroom.
Poppy ran over to the first door and screamed with excitement when she saw a complete peach bathroom suite. Charlie joined her, and opened the second door, revealing a bedroom the size of a shoebox. There was another shoebox bedroom and a slightly bigger bedroom with another tiny window.
At least I have my own room now, that's something.
“It's cozy,” Oliver cried, “we can make it look nice!”
“I think we're stuck with this for a while,” his mother grimaced at the walls, “I spent all the money on the deposit and first month's rent.”
Charlie had no idea why they couldn't wait a few months until they had some more money saved up and they could afford to move. He knew his mother was impulsive, but they hadn't even been in Surf Bay for more than a few weeks.
“I have loads of paint at mine,” Oliver said, “It's just sat there doing nothing so I'm sure my parents won't mind donating it.”
“You've done so much already,” she said as she inspected the inside of the stove.
“It's no trouble honestly,” Oliver said, “anything to help out a friend.”
He turned to Charlie and shot over his cheeky smile and wink, which made Charlie's lips quiver. He couldn't put into words the effect that Oliver had on him, other than it was intoxicating.
“I can pay you for it when I get my wage,” she said as she tiptoed to peer out of the minuet window.
“Honestly, it's fine. Its Sunday tomorrow, so me and Charlie will get it all painted,” Oliver smiled and winked at Charlie, “I'm sure we'll have fun.”
His emphasis on 'fun' made Charlie feel nervous. He wasn't sure if he was ready for the 'fun' that Oliver might have in mind.
“I couldn't have done this without you Oliver,” she turned around and smiled warmly at him, “you're a life saver.”
“I don't mind,” Oliver said, “we had fun rummaging around in that old man's house.”
When he said 'old man's house', Charlie knew he meant 'Charlie's pants'. Charlie glared at Oliver and gave him a look that read 'what's with all these innuendos?'.
I'm sure he's trying to out me.
Charlie didn't even know if he needed outing. He didn't know if he was gay or bisexual or whatever. He'd never been attracted to any other guy than Oliver, and he certainly didn't want to do the things that he'd done with Oliver, with anyone else.
“I'm taking us all out for ice cream to celebrate,” Charlie's mother exclaimed, “It's the least I can do.”
“I think we're forgetting the mountain of furniture that's on the street,” Oliver said.
Charlie's back suddenly started to hurt even more.
***
“Who knew a chest of drawers could be so heavy,” Sarah gasped as she collapsed into a red leather seat in the ice cream parlor.
Charlie's arms might have looked impressive in the vest, but Oliver couldn't believe how completely useless they were. Oliver sat next to Sarah, with Charlie and Poppy opposite. As they all studied the brightly colored menus, Oliver observed the family with jealously. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything with his parents. The only time he'd been to ice cream parlors when he was younger were with nannies and friends. Sarah might have flaws, but she was a damn sight more interested in her family than his mother was.
“I can't choose,” Charlie said, smiling at Oliver, “there's so much choice.”
“I want sprinkles,” Poppy cried, slamming her menu down on the table after examining the colorful images.
“Me too,” Oliver said.
Poppy grinned at him and stuck her tongue through the gap in her missing front two-teeth.
“Get what you want guys,” Sarah said, “It’s on me.”
Oliver felt uncomfortable letting Sarah pay for him. He knew how hard up Charlie and his family was and he had all that money just sitting there that he didn't even want. He considered grabbing the bill before Sarah even ha
d a chance to look at it, but he knew it would only offend her.
When their mountains of impressive ice cream arrived, Sarah turned to Oliver and started to probe him about his life.
“Is there anyone special in your life Oliver?” she smirked, “A good looking lad like you must have a bunch of girls after him.”
Oliver smirked when he heard Charlie choke on his ice cream.
“Lodged sprinkle,” he said as his face turned red.
“There's one person,” Oliver smiled.
“Tell me more! I love a good romance,” she grinned, scooping ice cream into her mouth.
Oliver could feel Charlie's eyes burning into his skin, but he didn't dare to look.
“Well. It's a bit complicated,” Oliver started, “there's this person who I'm crazy about. I wasn't at first, but when I got to know them, I couldn't stop thinking about them.”
“That's so sweet,” Sarah gushed.
Oliver felt a heavy sneaker kick him in the shin, but he still didn't look over at Charlie.
“I don't know how they feel about me though. They want to take things really slowly, which I'm down with, but they aren't being clear about how they really feel and it's kinda frustrating.”
Oliver decided it was the perfect time to look at Charlie who had turned a deep shade of scarlet by this point. He could see the rage in his eyes, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
“Love is complicated,” she exclaimed, “I've never been able to hold a man down because I can never understand them.”
“I definitely don't understand this person,” Oliver said, staring deeply into Charlie's shocked eyes.
He'd completely abandoned his ice cream and was making it more obvious than Oliver was.
“You should just tell them how you feel. You've got nothing to lose. They'll either tell you they feel the same or that they're not interested.”
“I think they're scared.”
“Of what?”
“Letting me in.”
“That's so sad,” she said, completely unaware that he was talking about her son.
“I think I intimidate him, but I don't mean to. I'm just a bit of a full on person.”
