#erlos

Well, Eric had been talking about cars, infodumping really and he knew most of it flew over Charlie’s head. But the man never complained, never asked to change the subject, just let Eric talk and talk and talk until he exhausted himself. It was a little intense, at first, when they started playing with the idea of getting together, having Charlie’s undivided and content attention, the way he would ask relevant questions to keep the conversation going. It was especially intense the first time when Eric finally ran out of things to say and Charlie just sighed happily and said, “You’re so smart, mi amor.”

No one, least of all anyone Eric had dated, had ever said that to him after he talked at them about cars for what was sometimes hours.

Tonight, it was like most performance nights; they performed and since they had to get to the next city before any of the soonest flights, they were driving straight there. He and Charlie had their own bunks, but they almost never actually slept apart. They would curl up in one of the bunks and talk, usually Eric doing most of it, until one or both of them started yawning too much to talk around.

What was different this time was that, somehow, Eric missed when Charlie began to doze off.

Now, Charlie was well and truly asleep, his eyes flickering behind his eyelids and part of Eric’s shirt caught between his lips and teeth while he sucked on it. It was one of Charlie’s sweetest little quirks, in Eric’s opinion, and it was literally the only reason Eric was wearing a shirt at all. Normally, he slept without a top on, but for Charlie he could easily tolerate the discomfort.

Overcome with how much he adored the man wrapped up in his arms— the love of his life, one of the best things that ever happened to him, the father of his future children, his husband— Eric dipped his head to press a gentle, lingering kiss against Charlie’s forehead and held his mouth there, sighing contentedly.

The shutter-click of a polaroid camera broke the quiet of the bus and Eric looked up, a bit startled. Standing at the mouth of the little hall of bunks, a bit sheepishly as he shook the picture as it developed, Roger smiled down at them. Looking around, Eric realized that at some point the bus had stopped. Since when had the bus stopped moving? Was he really so lovestruck over his husband that he failed to notice the bus coming to a stop and turning off?

“I just pulled over to use the bathroom,” Roger explained in a whisper as if reading Eric’s thoughts, crouching at the edge of the bunk to reach in and stroke a hand over Charlie’s hair. “Decided to check on my boys before getting back on the road. Saw the cutest damn thing in the world and had to take a picture.”

Eric grinned at the older man, squeezing Charlie a bit. “Yeah, and what was that?” he asked cheekily.

“S’pose you can see for yourself,” Roger replied, holding up the picture.

It was truly one of the most breathtaking photos of Charlie that Eric had ever had the pleasure of seeing. He looked serene, angelic even as he slept, sucking on Eric’s shirt with the corners of his mouth curled up. Eric knew that was just part of the sucking motion, that it wasn’t actually a smile, but he liked to think that it was. That Charlie was so happy that he was grinning even in his sleep.

“Damn, that is the cutest damn thing in the whole world,” Eric agreed, squeezing Charlie again.

“Y’both are,” Roger said firmly, leaning to kiss Eric chastely on the lips.

There was a little huff between them, and when Roger and Eric looked down, Charlie’s hazel eyes were open, droopy and heavy with exhaustion, but he was smiling.

“Where’s m’kiss?” Charlie mumbled sleepily around his mouthful of Eric’s shirt before dropping it with a frowny little mlem and wiping his lips.

“Holy shit, sometimes I want to squeeze you so tight your head pops off,” Eric confessed around a laugh, tilting Charlie’s face up with a finger under his chin until their lips met, soft and sweet and perfect.

When they pulled apart, Roger used his hand in Charlie’s hair to guide him into a kiss that was a bit deeper, more searching than the one Eric had received from the older man. When they separated, Charlie looked a bit dazed, and possibly for more reasons than just exhaustion.  If only they weren’t on the bus, Eric would’ve happily ran with that inkling of arousal.

“I’d better get back up front. Goodnight, Carlos,” Roger sighed, kissing Charlie again, chaste and sweet. Then he pressed another kiss to the corner of Eric’s mouth as well and murmured, “’Night to you as well, Eric.”

“’Night, Roger,” Eric replied, grinning as Charlie mumbled a little, “Goodnight, Rog.”

When Roger stood back up with a little groan, he closed the little curtain over the mouth opening of the bunk, plunging Charlie and Eric into more proper darkness.

With a sigh, Eric reached up to hit the switch on the fairy lights he put up, filling the enclosed space with soft, orange lighting that made it look like Charlie’s big, hazel eyes were full of stars. He loved him so much, Eric wanted to cry and dance and sing about it, but instead he just stooped to kiss the tip of Charlie’s nose, shaking a delighted little giggle out of him.

“Please, never stop smiling,” Eric breathed as he pulled back to meet Charlie’s eyes in the dim lighting.

Charlie’s grin twitched with his confusion, but it didn’t falter. “Okay, I’ll try,” he promised, shifting upward along Eric’s body to tuck his head under his chin, lips pressed against his throat. “Same goes for you, though.”

Eric laughed and squeezed his arms around Charlie tightly. “Keep this up, and that should be easy to do,” he said, kissing the top of Charlie’s head and relishing in his contented sigh.