CHARLES

The café-slash-bookstore was cute. If only Charles could find the courage to go inside. He stood outside the door, staring at the “Open” sign in deep contemplation. Since it wasn’t a school day, he was dressed casually in jeans and a plain yellow hoodie pulled up over his blond hair. Lucas probably wasn’t even working, and still, a deep, worried frown pulled down on Charles’ features.

His hands were clammy, his chest was tight, and he didn’t want to go inside. It had been days since Lucas’ email inviting him; the signing had come and gone—and Charles hadn’t been there because it was too risky. But wasn’t standing in front of the shop a risk? Wasn’t being there, talking to Lucas, risking saying something that would give him away?

“You going to go inside, son? I promise we don’t bite.” A sweet, low voice came from behind, making Charles jump. He turned to face the man, eyes wide with fear, until he saw… an older version of Lucas? His hair was greying, and he had a full beard, but he definitely looked like Lucas. They shared the same eyes, hazel and glowing with a fiery and intense kindness. Charles recognized the warm color instantly.

He gulped.

“Oh, um, yeah. Right. Need that coffee fix…” He said awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

The man raised his eyebrow. “Right. Well, if you have time, you should also check out our bookstore. Lots of interesting stuff. Lucas!” The man opened the door and called to Lucas—who, to Charles’ horror, was manning the cash register on the café side. Charles was dwarfed by the man’s tall, broad frame—partially because he was shrinking behind the man.

Shit. He had been caught.

“Can you get started on a coffee for, uh,” the man turned, an award-winning smile on his face, “I’m sorry, son, what was your name?”

“Charles,” He answered without thinking.

“For Charles?” The man shouted.

Charles saw Lucas tense with surprise, and his heart did a flip-flop. Well, no point in trying to hide. He gently pushed the yellow fabric of his hood off his head and slowly walked up to the counter. The man pushed past him and made his way to the kitchen.

Charles bounced on the balls of his feet; his lips pressed in a thin line.

“So… my dad said you wanted a coffee? Do you want sugar or anything?”

“No.” Charles found his voice in time to answer, but he cut off Lucas a little. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Just a black coffee.”

Okay. Calm down, Charles. It’s just that your stomach is in knots and your heart won’t stop pounding and your hands are shaking and—

“Okay, that will be three dollars and twenty-five cents. How will you be paying today?” Lucas squared his shoulders and tried to look tall, but Charles didn’t know why.

“Um…” Charles opened his wallet. He only had large bills, and his credit card was too risky if his father opened the bill, so he would have to use his debit card. “Card.”

He handed the plastic over to Lucas, who gasped.

“Oh my god, this is so cute!” He squealed. He flipped the card around a few times to look at the design of an old cassette tape. “You picked out this design?”

Charles was trying hard to fight a blush. He took deep breaths and furrowed his brows a little. “Um… Yeah? Obviously.”

“Well, it’s cute.” Lucas swiped the card and handed it back.

Their fingers brushed ever so slightly.

Charles reveled in the feeling.

Then, Lucas turned his back. “I’ll have your coffee right out.”

Charles moved to the side even though no one was behind him, heart still palpitating from the whole interaction. Their conversations were getting longer and less tense. Charles was able to keep it together better. Maybe it was from all that time they spent emailing back and forth, even if Lucas didn’t know it.

Charles watched Lucas as he worked. He watched Lucas’ back muscles, his arms, and his slender fingers. He made the coffee with such skill and care. It drove Charles crazy. God, he had it bad. He really did.

Soon, Lucas turned back around, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Here you go! One coffee. Milk and sugar are over there if you change your mind.”

He held out the coffee with one hand while pointing to a counter on the other side of the store. Charles was so busy looking over there that he didn’t notice himself grab the cup, practically holding Lucas’ hand in the process. He froze as their fingers touched, lingering this time. He gulped.

Lucas didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, by the way, I like your hoodie!”

Charles made a sound that could only be described as a squeak, and he moved his hand so fast that he spilled the coffee all over. Hot coffee soaked into his skin, his nerves tingling from shock, but all he could do was stand there completely frozen.

“Oh sh—I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Please don’t sue us!” He spoke so fast he didn’t even take the time to breathe between words.

“What? I’m not going to sue you.” Charles said—although it came out more as a snap. He watched Lucas flinch at the sound but couldn’t go back in time and fix his tone.

“I know, sorry, I… sorry.” Lucas walked over and grabbed Charles’ hand. “Oh, it’s all red.”

Charles’ heart exploded. This was it. He was dead. He died on the spot. He went tense and stayed exactly where he was, letting Lucas turn his hand over a few times. The rest of the café faded away, and all that was left was the two of them.

Suddenly, Lucas’ father burst out of the kitchen. “What happened? I heard someone yell.”

“Charles got burned by the coffee!” Lucas admitted at once, finally letting go of Charles’ hand.

Charles slowly pulled his hand back. It wasn’t that bad, a little bit red at most. But Lucas seemed worried, and now he had Lucas’ father worrying too. He shrank his shoulders, cheeks blushing red.

Lucas’ father rushed over from the kitchen, inspecting Charles’ hand. His eyes narrowed, and he took in the tenseness of Charles’ body. It was an unusual feeling—to be fawned over by people Charles actually liked.

To be fawned over by Lucas.

Lucas’ father frowned deeply. “Lucas, why don’t you take Charles to the break room and wrap that up.” He spoke slowly, which seemed to help Lucas calm down.

Lucas nodded. “Okay, okay, yeah. Come on, follow me. I’ll bandage that up.” He pulled his apron over his head and slipped back from behind the counter. He led Charles back to the break room and rummaged through a few things. Charles could do nothing but follow mindlessly.

The break room was small and cluttered, with a single table surrounded by chairs. On the left wall was a mountain of cardboard boxes, and on the right were three lockers labeled Lucas, Sonny, and Sidney, followed by a fourth locker that remained unlabeled.

“Ah! Here it is!” Lucas pulled out some aloe and a first aid kit. “Show me your hand.”

Charles wordlessly agreed. He held out his hand slowly and let Lucas treat the burn.

Again, the world melted away. Lucas dabbed at Charles’ burn, his touch so gentle Charles could hardly feel it. His fingers caressed Charles’ skin, and his movements were soft and meticulous. Charles’ eyes flickered from his hand to Lucas’ face, and he didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s fine. It’s not that bad.” His words were starting to come a little bit easier. His tone was less harsh. His throat wasn’t as closed up, and he sounded more like himself.

“I still feel bad. I’m really sorry.”

Charles shook his head. “Wasn’t your fault. Don’t feel bad.” Okay. Okay, this was good. He could do this. Just… don’t do anything stupid. Or say anything stupid.

Or maybe he shouldn’t do anything at all.

“Well, I’m sorry.” Lucas finished wrapping the burn and slapped his hands on his legs. “Okay, You’re all set. Do you want me to get you another coffee?”

“Oh, um… yeah. But only if you’ll make it for me.” Wow, that sounded stupid.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Um, yeah, I was offering. I’ll get that for you right now.” He stood and walked to the door.

“Oh, wait, Lucas,” Charles called out. Lucas paused with his hand over the doorknob.

“Yes, Charles?”

“Maybe make that coffee iced?” A grin tickled the edges of Charles’ mouth, and Lucas laughed.

He laughed.

It was a sound like a bright summer day. Like birds chirping in the crisp morning air. Like a cool evening breeze kissing soft skin.

And Charles was the one who brought that sound out of him.