#isabel.tex

Either way, he’d spent the better part of an hour kissing Charlie and hesitantly running his hands over his arms and back and trying not to think about how he’d enjoyed his very awkward first kiss with Charlie more than any of the more successful times he’d kissed his last girlfriend.

(He’d also tried not to think too hard about the feeling of Charlie’s hand halfway up his thigh, his thumb tracing patterns as he tried to haul Albert into his lap. He’d felt like his blood was rushing everywhere, and it was too scary, too much to consider moving that quickly.)

(Luckily, Charlie had been understanding, though Albert had a feeling that if he asked Charlie to do that again he’d immediately say yes.)

Albert took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. Contrary to what his former religion seemed to think, he didn’t look any different now that he’d kissed a man. His lips looked a little puffier, maybe, but that could’ve happened from making out with anyone. He certainly didn’t look happier–if anything, he looked a little alarmed. The most significant difference, he concluded, was that every time he let his mind wander, it immediately went back to hands on his waist and tangled in his hair and the feeling of Charlie’s lips against his.

Albert was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock at the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” Charlie called. “I still need to brush my teeth.”

“Sure,” Albert said.

The door opened, and Charlie apparently noticed the unused toothbrush in Albert’s hand, because he said, “You good?”

“Yeah! Yeah,” Albert said quickly. “Just–”

“Right.” Charlie propped one of his crutches against the counter and hesitantly slid his arm around Albert’s waist. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

They ended up brushing their teeth like that, Charlie leaning against Albert for support and Albert trying not to get distracted by the feeling of Charlie’s hand hovering at a ticklish spot on his waist. When they’d finished, Charlie said, “Do you want…um…”

“I thought you could stay over tonight since we have plans tomorrow anyway,” Albert’s last girlfriend before the show, Ellie, had said casually. It almost seemed like an innocent suggestion until she added, “my roommate’s away for the rest of the weekend,” and–

“I-I think I’ll just go home,” Albert stammered. “I need to–um, there’s some stuff I–” 

He was supposed to be back at Ellie’s apartment the next day anyway, but he still–he couldn’t–

What is wrong with me? he thought, not for the first time.

Ellie looked a little hurt, but mostly confused. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Albert leaned down to kiss her, pushing the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that crept in every time he did so out of his mind. “See you tomorrow.”

Back in the present, Charlie was looking at him concernedly.

“Hey,” he said. “I was just asking if you wanted to sleep in the same bed tonight.”

For a moment, Albert let himself imagine it–waking up with his head on Charlie’s chest, maybe, or starting his day with a kiss, or–

The thought wasn’t as scary as when Ellie had implied why she’d wanted him to stay over, but it was still a little–

“Not tonight,” Albert managed to say. “Sorry.”

Charlie shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m not–it was just an idea.”

He seemed genuinely unbothered, so Albert leaned in and kissed him. “Ready for tomorrow?”

Charlie laughed quietly. “Something like that.”

Albert passed Charlie his second crutch, and they left the bathroom together.

“Light off?” Charlie murmured when they’d gotten into bed.

“Sure.” Albert smiled at Charlie across the gap between their beds. “Thanks.”

For asking first. For taking the last step when I couldn’t. For being patient.