romantic on main

[CW: Blood]

Carlisle was on the scene the moment he heard Chief Swan had been shot. Charlie was stretched out on the pavement, lips parted as he labored for each breath. Carlisle collapsed beside him, the anguish at seeing the man like this tearing at his heart. Charlie's gaze flickered up to his face. His mouth moved, but all that came up was a cough of blood.

“Charlie.” Carlisle reached for his hand and squeezed.

“Doc,” Charlie croaked back. “You're here.”

“I'm here,” Carlisle agreed. His other hand brushed Charlie's stubbled cheek. His already pale skin had gone waxy, cold sweat gleaming.

The smell of his blood was thick in the air. Always sweeter than other humans, it now held a bitter edge as it pumped out of Charlie's body. Carlisle shook, wanting to stop it. Slicing through his sorrow was the foreign heat of rage. He wanted to find the person who shot Charlie.

“Hey.” Charlie's fingers twitched around his hand. “Stay with me.”

“That's my line,” Carlisle retorted with a forced smile.

“I'm... okay. Just a little cold.”

“Not as cold as me,” Carlisle argued.

“Yeah.” Charlie chuckled weakly, dissolving into another bloody cough. The blood rimmed his mouth and slid down the sides of his chin.

Carlisle leaned down, cradling Charlie's face in his hand. It didn't matter now, if he indulged. His tongue slid out, tracing over Charlie's lips. The taste of it on his tongue made him groan. It was exactly as sweet as it smelled, rolling over his tongue like mulled wine. But Carlisle noted it only for a moment before turning his attention over to the texture of Charlie's lips against his tongue. How soft they felt, how pliant.

Charlie's fingers pushed into his hair, nudging him closer, and he complied, sealing their mouths together in a full kiss. It was slow, exploring, acting like he had all the time in the world to get to know this mouth. When Charlie parted his lips for air, Carlisle dipped his tongue inside. Charlie moaned, fingers curling a little tighter. Sucking his own blood off Carlisle's tongue and mouth.

It was hard to pull away, but Carlisle managed it. Charlie's eyes were glassy staring up at him, his cheeks now a little flushed.

“You... picked a hell of a time... for that,” he said.

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“S'okay.” Charlie's thumb brushed across his cheek. “It... helped. I... can't go, now.”

“Oh?” If his heart worked, Carlisle imagined it would be racing. “That's all it takes? A kiss?”

“Yeah.” Charlie gave his hair a tug. “Better give me another, doc.”

Carlisle obeyed, shaping their lips into something fiercer. Demanding.

“those Cullens are fantastic people! And Dr Cullen is hot AND smart! Me- i mean the town, the town is lucky to have him.”

There’s something strange about the new town doctor 🦇🩸🗡️

On Charlie's rare days off, he wanted to spend them relaxing. Disengaging his brain while watching whatever game was playing on TV. Walking through the woods next to his house. Maybe even restoring some old furniture.

Spending time with Carlisle Cullen hadn't made that list, but he didn't know how to refuse when Bella told him the doctor had been overworking himself lately. Charlie knew that trap well.

So here he was, waiting for the doctor at their agreed meeting spot in town. Charlie glanced up when someone walked around the corner.

And his heart stopped.

The man walking toward him had Carlisle's hair and features, but he looked as far from the well-dressed doctor Charlie knew as possible. The man was in jeans—jeans, for God's sake! And the shirt was even worse. It was a band shirt for The Killers, of all things. The black material stretched across Carlisle's broad frame, pressing tight enough to his body to showcase the muscle underneath. The sleeves were short, leaving his arms bare. Charlie nearly choked on his tongue.

His heart started beating a little faster as he stared. That was hiding under the prim button-down shirts and white coats this whole time? The swell of those pecs, the defined lines of his shoulders, the firm biceps. Charlie's eyes swept up and down, back and forth. Somehow he was breathing through the rising heat that sparked in his chest.

Oh, my god. Was that body as firm as it looked? How would it feel if Charlie ran his hands down to those hips?

Carlisle stopped walking, his head lifting up to meet Charlie's gaze. His strange golden eyes widened in surprise. As if suddenly realizing what he was wearing. Then Carlisle's head ducked a little, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck.

What was this? Was he... shy? That was new. Charlie always saw Carlisle as calm and confident. Not like this, unsure of himself. Had to be the outfit. It was on the opposite end of his regular style.

“Since when do you like rock music?” Charlie asked, hoping to put the other man at ease.

“Emmett bought it for me,” Carlisle replied. “I promised to indulge him.”

Charlie nodded vaguely. Emmett's involvement made a lot more sense than Carlisle buying the shirt himself. It was hard to picture Carlisle listening to a band like The Killers.

“The things we do for our kids, eh?” Charlie remarked, making a mental note to thank Emmett later.

“True,” Carlisle agreed. A smile eased its way across his lips and his hand dropped to his side. His nervous fidgeting had rumpled his hair a little. The look fit perfectly with his outfit. He was just Carlisle tonight, not the put-together Dr. Cullen.

And then he turned around, and Charlie choked again. Those jeans were doing wonders for the man's ass.

Put thee not on Silent

[ID: A 4 panel comic made of digital paintings of a zoom meeting between the knights of the Round Table.

Sir Galahad, Queen Guinevere, Sir Gawain, Sir Lancelot, Sir Bedivere, have their own individual screens, and one screen shows a conference room with King Arthur, Sir Mordred, and others who are not named.

Both Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere have their cameras turned off, and microphones muted, the entire time.

Panel 1 shows King Arthur with a few of his knights, with Sir Mordred brooding beside him in shadows, and a hand reaching from offscreen to steal snacks from a bowl.

Sir Galahad has his microphone muted, and is in a forest, looking up and to the side. He has brown hair up above his head and very pale skin.

King Arthur asks, "Sir Gawain, canst thou see the PowerPoint slides?"

Panel 2 shows Sir Gawain, who has brown skin, black hair, green clothes, and heterochromia, with one green eye and one dark, replies, "Verily I cannot, I think it be a miasma of the sight."

Behind him for the background is a section from the Green Knight manuscript, showing faded lettering and a green knight on a green horse standing in front of someone with a large axe while a crowd of spectators watch from the sides.

Sir Galahad's screen is now slightly motion-blurred, showing a reddragon's open mouth in front of Sir Galahad's face.

Panel 3 shows Sir Bedivere, labeled Tech Support, who wears a blue shirt and a plumed knight's helm, looking exhaustedly into the camera, pushing his helmet visor up with one hand. He is lit by blue light and has bags under his eyes, asking: "Hast thou sharest the screen?"

His background is of a library. Sir Galahad's screen is now taken up by the motion-blurred side of the dragon that is attacking him.

Panel 4 shows Sir Gawain turned slightly to the side, looking derisively at the camera, saying: "Yea, but I cannot hear Sir Galahad."

The only thing left in Sir Galahad's screen is the motion-blurred, spade shaped tail tip of the dragon chasing him.

End ID.]