Chapter Text
Pim woke up in his bed, his alarm chirping pleasantly beside him. His ring tone was one of a duck quacking- and it never failed to make him giggle.
Today was going to be an amazing day. He could just tell. Maybe it was the way the birds were singing, the rain pitter-pattering on his window in that pleasant way, or maybe something in the air- whatever it was, Pim was very happy it was there. With a wider smile than usual, he swung his legs over the bed and started to get ready to face the beautiful day ahead.
Pim did his morning stretches before heading to the bathroom. Once there, he turned the shower on, and reached for his toothbrush while the water heated up. But while reaching for his toothpaste, he knocked his pill bottle into the sink. He watched it roll around a bit, until the side that read: “Take 1 to 2 tablets by mouth twice a day as needed for panic attacks” was facing up at him.
Ever since he was a tadpole, Pim remembers being anxious. He was horrified to be called on in class, even when the math problem on the board wasn’t really hard. He would sooner explode than have an awkward interaction with another kid at school. He even had nightmares about whatever creepypasta the kids in his grade were talking about, and they would get so bad that he would sleep with his light on.
Pim can still remember when his doctor brought it up. He remembers sitting on the crisp, crinkly paper of the examination table. He remembers how his sneakers were the same shade of blue as the upholstery. He remembers the cold feeling of the stethoscope against his chest. He remembers the doctor commenting on his glasses lenses being ‘unusually thick’ for someone his age. But most of all, he remembers his mother’s answer to the doctor’s suggestion.
“He’s fine.” She was fiddling with her rings, an angry expression on her face. There was a burgundy stain on her blouse just below where her arms rested on her stomach. “He’s just… tightly strung.”
The doctor frowned at this and turned to type something on the computer. His mother drummed her fresh set of manicured nails on the plastic arms of the chair, and Pim was looking at his tennis shoes.
“I’m going to refer you to a psychologist-“
“He doesn’t need a psychologist! He just needs to calm down- it’s not that hard to understand.” She hissed, and Pim remembered flinching at her tone. The doctor ran a hand through his hair and sighed, itching his scalp. “I don’t get why you doctors are so adamant about pushing unnecessary medication- especially on children!”
There was a long tirade about ‘Big Pharma,’ and Pim didn’t know what those words meant. He assumed it was silly to name someone Big, but he had tuned out as soon as she raised her voice at the doctor. After some bickering, the doctor gave Pim an apologetic glance, and the subject was dropped.
It wouldn’t be until he got his driver's license that he would finally be able to get prescribed medication. When he was able to go by himself, it was the first question he asked the doctor, and his first real purchase was to the pharmacist for the medication prescribed.
The pharmacist had given him a little orange bottle that was a quarter full of small, white round pills. She had told him to take them when he started to feel ‘jittery.’ Ever since then, his body has not always been in flight or fight mode.
There was a meme Charlie sent him one time- and Pim didn’t really know why it stuck with him. It was a picture of two wolves looking at each other, one black and one white. The impact font read: “There are two wolves inside of you. One is gay. The other is gay. You are gay.” Pim remembered finding it mildly funny and then not sparing it much thought. But for whatever reason, he was dwelling on that image right now.
Pim didn’t really think there were two wolves inside of them. Wolves were wild animals. If he were to have two dogs inside of him, he figured one of them would be a lovely dog. Most dogs were friendly, Pim believed. But for the sake of imagining, he just thought one would be a golden retriever.
The other one would definitely be a chihuahua. That chihuahua always had its teeth bared, making sure he could never let his guard down. It followed him everywhere he went, constantly nipping at his ankles.
Recently, that chihuahua quieted down a bit. Thanks to therapy, a whole new suite of coping mechanisms, and a job to occupy himself with, its constant howling had dulled down to the occasional bark. Still, some days were worse than others.
Every morning, Pim had to make a decision. He would pick up that orange pill bottle, trade it from hand to hand, and consider if that day was going to be one filled with his inner chihuahua’s constant barking. But today was going to be a day spent with Charlie, and more often than not, Charlie was the straight man to Pim’s anxieties.
Maybe that was why he…
Nope, he thought to himself. I got to get ready for work!
After a quick shower and costume change, Pim was ready to take on his day. Most people didn’t really like rainy days, but Pim loved them. Granted, there were very few things he didn’t love. But that didn’t make rainy days any less relaxing and enjoyable. Plus, the fact that he had work today made everything just a little bit sweeter.
Things were just better on rainy days. He would probably see the single dad with spiky hair and his daughter playing in the rain on his way home from work. Whenever it rained, his daughter would get her raincoat on and dance excitedly around in the puddles. One of his neighbors said that she saw the Dad talking with the grouchy bookstore clerk, and insists that they’re going to fall in love.
There were things to find a smile everywhere Pim looked today. A woman wishing her son a happy birthday on her phone, a little frog in the bush next to his apartment building, and the fact that it was the perfect temperature for the outfit he chose. It was the kind of day that made him walk with a little more pep in his step.
Pim shook off his umbrella and wiped his feet on the mat of the Smiling Friends building while humming a little tune. He rest the umbrella next to the coat rack that lived in the hallway, and made his way into the break room.
“Good morn-a-roonie, everybody!” Pim greeted as he walked in. Alan didn’t greet him, he was too busy organizing the cups. Glep was watching something on his phone- a comedy of some kind. He could tell based on the laugh track. Still, he shot Pim a dirty glare and muttered something under his breath.
But Charlie had looked up from his phone to look at Pim.
People looked up from their phones when something caught their attention. That was a basic instinct. But Pim had noticed sometime after the first year of working together, Charlie no longer looked up when he entered the room. (Well, save for the time he was being chased by that forest demon- but that was an exception.) He knew it was because Charlie had probably knew the sound of his footsteps or something, but a part of him was hurt by this lack of acknowledgment. He was lucky to get a ‘good morning’ from Charlie on most days.
Today was different. Charlie seemed… happier than usual. He had a soft smile on his lips, and he nodded to Pim as he walked in. Christ- was he really getting butterflies in his stomach over a simple tilt of Charlie’s neck?
Unfortunately, Pim didn’t have much time to ask what had gotten Charlie in such a good mood before The Boss appeared behind him.
“Good morning, boys!” He greeted while waving a fancy piece of stationery around. When he ducked his head in, his dark gray comb-over flopped on his head like a dead fish.
“The two of you have quite the job today! A fancy pants dance is happening, and one of the bartenders is stressed! The two of you should go and cheer her up!”
The letter felt very fancy. It had a wax seal that was just a little too pretty to tear open, so Pim picked at it until it came off. Then he slid the paper out, and was very delighted to see such wonderful calligraphy. He hadn’t seen someone write it such beautiful cursive in a very long time- and it was very pretty. After a quick skim of the letter, he turned to Charlie in order to point out how this person misspelled ‘smiling’ as ‘smileing’, but he was once again surprised to see that Charlie was already looking at him.
OhmyGodwhyishelookingatme— he thought to himself. Does my shirt have a stain on it? He quickly shoved the letter in Charlie’s general direction, and turned his attention back to The Boss.
“It’s- It’s a fancy dance?” Pim asks, and he looks down at his shirt. Good, maybe then I can have an excuse to change out of this stained shirt so Charlie will look at me less- do I want Charlie to look at me less? “Uh, like one with a lot of socialites?”
Charlie gives Pim a slight nudge with his elbow, and Pim feels like he’s going to explode.
“We should swing by Fancy Lads before we go and party it up with all of the old folks.” Charlie says, tucking the letter away into his hoodie pocket.
“Old folks?” Pim asks. “Are there a bunch of old people at this party? The note didn’t say anything about old people.”
Charlie blinks, and he seems to think for a moment.
“Only old people write in cursive,” He settles on, and he reaches to itch at the scruff of his chin. Except- there isn’t any scruff on his chin, and Pim realizes that Charlie has shaved. “Well, I mean, my uncle also writes in cursive- but he’s just an interesting fella.”
“Well,” The Boss claps his hands, drawing Pim’s attention away from Charlie’s freshly shaven face and back to the matter at hand. “I think the two of you best be on your way! Remember- don’t fuck it up!”
The last part seemed to be primarily pointed towards Charlie, and he seemed to roll his eyes at him. He wondered if their client from yesterday had filed some kind of complaint against him. But Miss Terious didn’t seem like the kind of person who would file a complaint.
“Did you bring an umbrella today?” Charlie asks as Pim opens the front door. Sure enough, it’s still raining, and Pim shakes his head.
“I did- but I don’t mind the rain, especially when the weather is this nice!” Pim says, and he steps outside with outspread arms. “It makes me think of that movie about singing in the rain.”
“Singin’ in the Rain?” Charlie asked, his hands in his hoodie pockets.
“Yeah that’s what I said.”
“No that's the—- whatever, dude. Let’s just get to Handsome Lads.” Charlie says, plucking his hat from his head and pulling his hood over him. Slowly, he plods towards the car, and Pim eventually finishes his twirling to climb inside the car.
“Oh, I love rainy days,” Pim begins, buckling his seatbelt. “It’s the perfect kind of day to curl up and read a book- with a cup of tea.”
“That’s grandma behavior.” Charlie snorts as Pim pulls out of the driveway.
“What do you mean?”
“Like- you’re the only person under the age of 60 who likes to do shit like that, man.”
“Just because I enjoy the finer things in life doesn’t make me a grandma,” Pim huffs playfully as Charlie raises his hands in mock defeat.
“You’re totally right, man, and I’m sorry. I believe the correct term is ‘old hag.’”
Pim laughs and quickly pulls out of the company driveway, moving into the main road. As the rain slowly drums a melody-less beat on the windshield, he flips on the radio and is delightfully surprised by what plays.
“Oh, listen! It’s my favorite song!” Pim said, not expecting Charlie to be listening. That was completely fine- his company was a treat in and of itself. “That means today is going to be a good day!”
“Nah, man. It’d be a good sign if they weren't playing the original version.” Charlie says, shaking his head. “I think Weezer’s cover of this is better.”
“What?!” Pim asked, snorting back a laugh. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”
“No- I believe it with my whole soul, man.”
“Really? Name like one cover that’s better than the original.”
Charlie thinks for a moment. And, after a very long beat, he adds: “The guy who sang Chocolate Rain.”
“He wrote that song!” Pim says, shooting a sidelong glance at Charlie.
“No, he didn’t!”
“Google it!” Pim demands. Suppose it was anyone else in the world who was interrupting the best part of ‘Mr. Blue Sky’, Pim would have been frustrated. But, because it was Charlie, he didn’t really mind.
It also helped that Pim was right. But, still.
Pim had thought he’d gotten pretty good at hiding his staring. After all, staring was impolite and unkind, and Pim didn’t want to be either of those things. He didn’t really stare at people all that often, for those reasons. But there was one person who he stared at more than he’d care to admit; Charlie.
When he drove, it had gotten to the point where he had to make an active effort to keep his eyes on the road and not on his passenger. It didn’t matter that Charlie looked extremely handsome while he sat there on his phone, gently gnawing on his bottom lip as he read some post. But with some practice, he’d been pretty successful in the art of sneaking glances.
It was hard to hide the fact that he was staring now, but in his defense he did ask Pim to check out his outfit. That's an entirely normal thing to do when someone asks for an opinion on their outfit, right? If someone asks you to look at their outfit, you look at their outfit. So what if that involves staring at the way those light grey dress pants made his butt look fantastic? It’s a part of the outfit- right?
Charlie was looking at him now, with one hand on his hip. If Pim wasn’t so focused on how embarrassed he was, he would have caught him smirking. Instead, he was far too focused on coming up with some kind of reason to be staring so long.
He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Charlie’s laugh. Charlie was laughing, and his nose was doing that adorably little wrinkly thing it did when he laughed, and Pim was blushing. He knew he was blushing.
“I remember you telling me something about how grey was my color,” Charlie explained, reaching to itch at the back of his neck. “So, I decided to go for the grey. You like it?”
Pim had made a comment in passing while at The Boss’ wedding, but he didn’t expect Charlie to remember it. Charlie never remembers anything, so why did he remember that?
“You look good!” Pim said, trying to talk about the lump in his throat. No, he looked better than good. But he couldn’t say amazing, that would be way too forward. God, what if Charlie thought he didn’t like his outfit? He had to say something different. Something better than good- “You look very good.”
Yeah, smooth. Totally smooth and not at all bad.
“Thanks, brother.” Charlie said, sticking one of his hands in the pocket. “My head feels naked without a hat, though.”
Pim had to get out of here before his heart exploded. He was going to spontaneously combust if Charlie kept talking in that voice- why was Charlie talking in that voice? He had to get out of here.
Pim stood awkwardly by the cashier waiting for Charlie to get changed once more, and he was mentally kicking himself the whole time. Why couldn’t he just act normal around Charlie? Could Charlie see that he was floundering over his words? Oh God— what if Charlie thought he was being weird because he thought he looked bad? That was the opposite of what Pim wanted him to think!
And what was up with his voice? He had heard Charlie talk like that before- but never directed at him. There was one time when Charlie had answered the phone- probably a call from his then girlfriend- with that low voice. It was quiet, reassuring, and surprisingly sweet. Pim never expected him to use that sort of gentle tone with him.
When Charlie finally showed up, he placed the folded up suit on the cashier’s table with an excited air about him. It was weird- how unlike of him to actually fold something. Maybe he was dying?
Pim watched as Charlie handed the cashier his credit card, and he had a physically pained look on his face as he did so.
“You know- if you need me to spot you for the suit, I can,” Pim said as Charlie frowned at the receipt.
“Nah, man. I’m good.” He said, stuffing the receipt into his pocket. “I gotta get a new suit anyways. That weird robot that my uncle made me hold onto kinda ate my old one.”
“It… ate your suit?” Pim asked.
“It’s done weirder things.” Charlie said, climbing into the car. And then he refused to elaborate further.
It took around thirty minutes to get ready; but the majority of that time was spent looking over his shirt to see if there were any stains on it. There weren’t, and he put his navy suit on after making sure that wasn’t stained, either. It wouldn’t be professional to go to a fancy dance dressed in anything that was raggedy and dirty.
Pim opened his bathroom door to find Charlie folding up his sweatshirt, and placing it alongside his folded jeans on the coffee table.
Charlie looked amazing. It wasn’t too different to how he looked at The Bosses wedding- he was wearing a light grey suit and pale blue undershirt. But he was wearing a light pink tie, which Pim found himself to be flustered by. After all, the tie was almost exactly a match to the one he was wearing- and he had no idea how Charlie managed that. It was almost like he had seen Pim dress in this outfit before.
Pim stood in his doorway for longer than he would have liked, watching Charlie finish buttoning up his shirt and roll up his cuffs.
“Enjoying the view?” Charlie asked, and Pim flinched at the acknowledgement. How did he know he was staring? Was he staring for a long time? Charlie glanced up from cuffing his sleeves, raising an eyebrow. “You look really good, by the way. I’ve always like the way navy looks on you.”
Pim died. Pim was dead. He was not alive anymore. Those two sentences managed to kill him… at least it felt like it. It felt like his heart exploded. It felt like his face was burning off.
It felt like Charlie was…. flirting with him?
Normally Charlie’s compliments took the form of insults. When they first became acquainted, Pim had worn a blue sweater he had thrifted. He stepped into the break room, and he was immediately met with; “You look like a fucking blueberry.”
Pim didn’t wear that sweater for a good year because of that.
But now- Charlie was legitimately complimenting him. And he seemed genuine about it- like he really, truly meant what he was saying. It wasn’t unwelcome- but he certainly felt like he was going to spontaneously combust.
“You ready to head out?” Charlie asked, a pleased smile on his face.
Pim could only stutter something in the affirmative, and stepped past Charlie with haste. As he walked past him, he caught a whiff of some kind of cologne. And Pim found himself excited to be confined to the car for the next two hours with such a pleasing scent.
The drive through Philly was interesting as always. Charlie spots a man strolling down the sidewalk with a bright smile, wearing his pants on his head like a hat. The streets are buzzing with life: street performers bang on upturned buckets like drums, and a man strums a mediocre tune on his guitar. Food trucks line the streets, offering some of the best tacos Pim has ever had. Every person Pim passes seems to carry a story, from the skateboarders weaving through traffic to the artists sketching on park benches.
The drive to the venue was around an hour and a half. If Pim was with any of his other coworkers for this adventure, he probably would have sat in awkward silence after a few attempts at conversation. But with Charlie, their silence almost never felt uncomfortable. With Charlie, conversations flowed very easily- most of these conversations would start with some strange hypothetical.
The last hypothetical had something to do with killing a mouse in order to get to heaven, although that was one of his more tame ones.
“Okay- so say you wake up in the middle of the night-“
“Uh-oh.”
“Shut the fuck up and listen, man!” Charlie laughs, and continues. “Okay so, say you hear someone knocking on your window in the middle of the night. You roll out of bed, and it’s a witch.”
“Like the one from the enchanted forest?”
“Yeah- the one who was really good at cutting shit. So, say she’s hovering on her broom- and she’s holding a deck of tarot cards in front of her. And she’s like ‘pick the card that most represents you- and if you pick wrong, you’ll die’, which one do you pick?”
Pim is stunned into silence- and he blinks at the road ahead of them. They’ve been in the city for a while, but the majority of the drive was just navigating the busy streets and rush hour traffic. So his mind is clear to think about whatever strange hypothetical Charlie had just offered to him.
“I thought you didn’t like tarot cards?” He asks, stealing a glimpse from Charlie. “Plus like… I don’t know a whole lot about tarot cards. I’m not sure I’d be able to choose.”
“Ugh, you’re literally no fun.” Charlie huffs, rolling his eyes. Then his expression changes to one more devious. “If you had a super computer- like it had the best AI ever on it, Right? And if you asked it something like: ‘who out there definitely wants me to die?’ and you searched it. And it was like- incapable of lying to you. You know for a fact that this machine can’t lie- and it gives you a picture of this guy that you’ve never seen before. Then, like, a week later you’re at a gas station. And you go to take a piss, right? And the guy in the urinal that’s, like, mid-piss is the guy who definitely wants to kill you. But then he like… slips on piss and passes out- what would you do? Do you like… kill him?”
Yeah, that was more like the hypotheticals Pim was used to.
Once they arrived, Pim immediately had his breath taken away by the beautiful decorations. The venue was garden themed, for the most part. Big clay pots with fancy vines dangled down from the ceiling, and each standing table was decorated with these tall vases with even taller plants coming from them. The whole place was canopied in greens, purples, whites and blues. It reminded Pim of the short stint he spent as a florist during his college days. He wouldn’t mind having his own wedding here some day.
Ooh- he already knew what flowers he would pick for the bouquet, and what kind of suit he would wear. He could imagine it already- Alan, Glep, Glep’s wife, and The Boss (if he was still alive) would be there. And maybe even Filmore and Duncan too- if they got out of jail in time. They would all be there to witness the ceremony… between him and-
“Hey, dude- look. The bars over there.” Charlie says, placing a hand on Pim’s head.
Pim is immediately thrown out of his thoughts and reminded that he has a job to do- he can’t just sit here and fantasize about his future husband— husband? Nope, he was looking for the bar. And the bar just so happened to be decorated with beautiful floral arrangements.
“Oh, Charlie! You see the little white, droopy flowers? Those are called the lily of the valley, and back in the Victorian era they meant happiness and luck. The red roses are really common in things like these, they’re meant to show admiration and deep respect- and they’re not always romantic.” Pim said, stepping past a table that had one of the many floral arrangements on it. He pointed to the tallest plant- its red petals were tipped in white, making it stand out from the rest of the rest. “And that’s a dahlia! They’re supposed to show that you’re committed to someone. But they can also mean betrayal, which is a little funny when you think…. about it…”
Pim’s voice died down as he realized just how long he had been talking for. Charlie probably thought flowers were boring, but when he looked up at his friend, his expression showed anything but disinterest.
“You know a lot about flowers, man. That’s insane- how do you remember stuff like that?” He asked, sticking his hands into his pockets as he squeezed past an older woman.
“I… uh- It kinda just stuck with me, you know?” Pim says, watching the way the setting sun seems to dance on Charlie’s lips like a whisper. He swallows, and tugs on his collar a bit. “Sorry for that. I guess I kinda forgot I was talking.”
Charlie frowned a little, then gently elbowed Pim’s shoulder to get his attention once more.
“What’s your favorite flower, man?” Charlie asks.
Since when is Charlie interested in things like flowers?
“Uh- I like lavender.” Pim says, looking down at his hands. “Not for like- any fancy reason, just because it smells good.”
Pim can’t bring himself to look at Charlie at this moment. If he did, he didn’t know if he could keep from pulling him down by his tie and kissing him right next to the hors d’oeuvre table. But if Pim was looking at Charlie, he would have noticed that Charlie was cataloging that information in the most sacred part of his brain.
“What kind of flower do you think I would like?” Charlie asks after a beat. Then, he quickly adds, “Wait- before you answer- it better be like, the coolest of all flowers.”
Pim thinks for a moment, spotting an open stool at the bar. “A daffodil, maybe.”
“Why? Because they’re yellow?” Charlie snorts, perching himself next to Pim at the bar. “I bet you think my favorite kind of ice cream is banana, too.”
Pim can’t unpack the last part of the sentence before the bartender shows up, glass of wine in hand. The fancy invitation was right- she did look stressed.
“What can I get you guys?” She asked, handing a wine glass to the man next to them.
“Oh, nothing for me! I’m Pim, and this is Charlie- we’re the Smiling Friends!” Pim explained while pulling himself up onto one of those tall barstools.
“We’ve been sent to make you smile,” Charlie says, sliding the letter with its fancy cursive writing to the woman. “And- I’ll just take a water, when you can.”
“You’re not going to drink?” Pim asks, quirking a brow.
“No way, man. I’m turnin’ over a new leaf. Whole new Charlie Dompler.” Charlie says, slicking his hand through his hair.
Pim can’t help but think back to yesterday. He remembered the cards- and maybe this was Charlie finally realizing that something needed to change. Maybe that’s why he’s been folding his clothes. But the more likely scenario would be that he was dying.
The lady’s name was Gabi, and she was having trouble with her boyfriend. Apparently the two of them had gone to Paris for a romantic vacation- and she had expected her boyfriend to propose. After a quick comment from Charlie regarding his uncle and some catacombs, Pim manages to ease her worries while Charlie makes her laugh with some french joke that Pim didn’t get. It takes roughly three hours of chatting for them to get to this point, mainly because she had other guests to serve.
“Have you noticed that this guy only plays Jimmy Buffet and Frank Sinatra?” Pim found himself asking, glancing into his cup of water as he switched it from hand to hand.
“You don’t like it?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow as he smiled over the lip of his own glass of water. “This is the kinda old man music that would be right up your alley.”
“I bet you’d rather they play Weezer.” Pim says, fixing Charlie with a playful scowl. And, if the lighting wasn’t so dramatic, he could have sworn that Charlie was blushing. But it was just a trick of the light. Probably.
Pim was about to add something else to his jab at Charlie’s expense, but he was interrupted by someone colliding into his side. If it weren’t for Charlie catching him, he might have fallen off of his stool.
“O-oh! Sorry, Ma'am!” Pim gasped, looking over his shoulder to see the woman that collided with him. She was tall, rather frail-looking, had grey hair and cat-eye glasses. A chunky turquoise necklace jangled around her turkey neck, and she was clearly more than just a little drunk.
"Don't be sorry, doll-face! I couldn't have picked a cuter little guy to bump into." She said, cupping his cheeks with a delighted smile.
Her hands were wrinkly and cold, and her accent was very southern. "Say, do you need a dance partner? I got a feelin' that you need a good time."
"Sorry, Ma'am," Pim began, gently taking her hands off of his face and returning them to her sides. Her silver bracelets jingled loudly as he did so. "I'm actually here for work, so it'd be really improper of me to-“
"Bah, just because you're here on work don't mean you can't have any fun!" She said, and those cold old lady hands wrapped themselves around his wrists. In one swift movement, she tugged him off of the barstool. "Come on, It'll just be one dance."
And then Charlie’s hand is on his shoulder.
“Lady- He’s not interested,” Charlie says, prying the woman’s hands off of Pim’s wrists. Then, his hands move back to his shoulders in almost a protective manner. “So go find someone your own age to dance with.”
Pim watches as the woman fixes him with a nasty glare, straightening herself out.
“That really ain’t no way to talk to a lady.” She says, crossing her arms. Her extensive amount of jewelry clanks around again, and Pim realizes the grip on his shoulders grows tighter. “Now, I’d you don’t mind, I’m trynna have a conversation-“
“And I’m tryanna tell you,” Charlie interrupts, mimicking her accent in a squeaky tone, “that he’s not fucking interested! So back off, dude.”
It almost happens in slow motion, and he watches with shock as the old lady swings a pretty good fist right into Charlie’s nose. Pim can hear the hushed gasps of surrounding people before he can fully register what’s going on. He isn’t sure if he says anything or just gasps like the rest of the crowd, but he isn’t too focused on that right now.
Right now, he’s focused on how hot Charlie looks.
Charlie’s head hangs there for a moment before he slowly brings it up again, almost like he’s proud to show off the blood that has started to flow from his nostrils. He wipes off his face with the side of his hand and runs his tongue over his teeth with a low grumble. His other hand is still on Pim’s shoulder, making sure he isn’t stolen away into the crowd. Somewhere, Cheeseburger in Paradise is playing.
That image of Charlie, with his bloodied nose, challenging smirk, and purple lighting, is permanently burned into his brain. It’s an image that is definitely going to keep him up at night tonight, and probably for the next couple of weeks.
When Pim is finally able to look away from Charlie, the woman has gone. He’s pretty sure she’s run away- and Pim doesn’t blame her. If he were on the receiving end of Charlie’s glare, he’d probably need a new pair of pants, for more than one reason.
“Guh,” Charlie says, finally letting go of Pim to grab at his nose. His other hand is cupped just in front of his lips to catch any blood that might drip. With a smile, he looks down at Pim. “Do you uh… wanna get me a napkin or something, man? Or do you just wanna stare?”
“Sorry!” Pim says, having to physically tear his eyes away and scramble to get some cocktail napkins from the bar. He hands them to Charlie, who takes them with a thankful smile. Then Pim stares at him again because, of course, he does.
“Argh yough okah?” Charlie asks, stuffing a tissue up his nose.
Jesus Christ, he had to get his shit together. “Yes! I’m good- let’s uh, let’s get you home- that looks like it hurts.”
“Ackshually, I fink we should head back tuh yer place,” Charlie says, tilting his head towards the door. “Yuh-know, because it’s closer to here.”
“Oh- uh, sure!” Pim says, feeling his face heat up again. There has to be another reason Charlie wants to go to his apartment, right? Some ulterior motive? No— he’s just reading too much into it. Charlie’s head probably just hurts, and there’s definitely no reason for him to think that Charlie’s trying to start something. That would be wishful thinking on Pim’s behalf.
The walk to the car is silent, save for the gravel crunching under their feet. In the distance, My Way slowly fades into Margaritaville. Pim feels tense, and he’s not exactly sure why.
“Fuck, man,” Charlie says, sneezing into one of his less-dirty cocktail napkins. He shivers at the sensation, probably starting up the bleeding again. “Who knew old ladies could pack a punch?”
“I really appreciate what you did, by the way.” Pim finds himself saying just as the rain starts to patter on the ground. “Honestly— you didn’t have to do that, but you did. And it was really—“
Then the word leaves Pim’s mouth before he can stop himself. “—hot.”
This is it, Pim thinks to himself. I’ve ruined everything, and he’s never going to talk to me again because I called him hot. How could you mess up that badly, Pim? That was stupid, and now you’ve ruined it.
At least, he thought he ruined it until Charlie’s hand slid into his.
“You gotta relax, man,” Charlie says, looking down at Pim with an affectionate smile. It makes his heart skip a beat. “Do you really think I would let some old lady punch me in the face if I didn’t like you?”
“You… like me?” Pim asks. The rain has started to really come down now.
Charlie snorts and winces at the pain momentarily before fixing Pim with an affectionate laugh. It sounds like music. “Fuck yeah, dude. I’ve been flirting with you all day.”
Pim stops in his tracks, and Charlie almost trips. They’re still holding hands— and Pim looks at how his hand fits in Charlie’s. It's perfect, like it belongs there. Like he should have done this a long time ago.
He has to stand on his tippy toes in order to close the gap between them, and he can feel Charlie’s smile against his lips. It feels like a scene taken out of one of those romance movies that Charlie always makes fun of- but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is kissing Charlie.
Charlie’s the one who pulls away, and he looks down at Pim with a look that is definitely going to be ingrained in his frontal lobe for the rest of time.
“We should get to the car, man. I’m fucking freezing.”
The drive back to Pim’s apartment is quicker than what it took to get there. Pim figures it’s a mix of anticipation and the fact that there’s a lot less traffic than before. Charlie shows Pim Weezer’s cover of Mr. Blue Sky, and holds firm on his belief that it’s ’like, a gazillion times better’ than the original. Pim strongly disagrees. This argument doesn’t last too long, though.
They're kissing as soon as they pass the threshold of Pim’s apartment. Pim doesn’t care if he seems needy. He doesn’t care if he looks desperate— he just wants to kiss him. Charlie doesn’t seem opposed to this, as he’s the one who leads them to Pim’s bedroom, and he’s the one to pull Pim onto his lap. He’s the one to put his hand on Pim’s thigh.
Maybe if they were younger, it would have escalated further. Pim wouldn’t have minded. But he didn’t mind this slower pace, either. As he kisses at Charlie’s jaw and neck, he heard him yawn.
“Am I boring you?” Pim teased, laughing softly. Charlie shivered at the loss of contact.
“No, dude,” Charlie says, running a hand over Pim’s nerve ending, causing Pim to shiver. “Gettin’ punched in the face kinda- I think I lost a lot of blood.”
“Makes sense,” Pim hums as Charlie flops down into the bed, taking Pim with him. He grunts softly as Charlie lays his arm over him and nuzzles into the crook of his neck. “Maybe I should kiss it better.”
“What are you gonna do? Stick your tongue up my nose?” Charlie asks.
“Gross,” Pim says, smiling against the bridge of Charlie’s nose as he kisses at it softly. “You’re nasty.”
Charlie only hums in response to this, weaseling his arm under Pim’s head and leaning in closer to his touch. This comfortable silence continues for a while, with Pim placing lazy kisses on Charlie’s face and Charlie holding him close. Eventually, even Pim’s kisses start to taper off, and the two of them wind up just holding one another.
“Hey, dude?” Charlie asks, his voice quiet so as not to disturb the peace. “We’re- this is good, right?”
“Yeah,” Pim says, feeling Charlie rest his head on his chest, almost as if he’s listening to his heart beating. “This is really, really good.”
“Swag,” Charlie says simply, and yawns again.
Pim thinks Charlie is the first one to fall asleep, but he doesn’t really know for sure. He just knows that he feels safe, that he feels loved, and that he loves Charlie.
But he’s not going to tell him that yet. Right now, he’s perfectly content with falling asleep in Charlie’s arms- because everything feels perfect. He’s right where he needs to be.
-
Charlie woke up in what he thought was his bed, his phone quacking annoyingly beside him.
He pressed his face further into the pillow he was face-down in with a frustrated grunt. It felt really soft for some reason, but he didn’t particularly notice. He also didn’t notice how the pillow smelled of lavender detergent, and how the bedsheets he was tucked into didn’t have any crumbs on them.
Of course it didn’t fucking work. He thought to himself angrily. Nothing I do works, and I’m going to live the same day for forever until the heat death of the univer-
Then the alarm stopped. Okay- weird. Maybe it died? He did have a bad habit of not plugging his phone in before he went to bed.
Charlie reached for his phone, and ended up limply waving his arm around until he hit something. That something promptly fell to the floor with a dull thunk- and Charlie was confused. His bedside table only had his phone and a half-empty box of tissues. What he touched didn’t feel like a tissue box or his phone.
Lifting his head up, he blinked at the carpet below him. It was white. Charlie’s carpet wasn’t white- at least, he didn’t remember it being white. He also didn’t remember having a lamp.
“Oh, shoot,” Said someone behind him. “Did my alarm wake you up? I’m sorry, I thought I stopped it in time.”
Charlie whipped his head around so quick he could have sworn he heard something crack in his neck. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was looking at Pim.
“….holy shit….”
Pim was looking at Charlie with a soft, apathetic smile on his face and his phone in his hand. He was wearing the white t-shirt that he always wore under his button down. His nerve ending was stuck to his head and a little crumpled. It was so…. domestic.
It was the best thing Charlie had ever seen.
“Holy shit.” Charlie heard himself breathe, his voice sounding hoarse and low from just waking up. He looked down- the blanket he was tucked under was purple and striped. The walls were a pale blue. There were no clothes on the floor- everything was neat and tidy. He wasn’t in his apartment.
“Holy shit!” Charlie nearly shouted, his voice wavering. Pim flinched at this, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. If Charlie wasn’t overwhelmed with every emotion known to man, he would have found it cute. Instead, he grabbed Pim by the shoulders. “What day is it?!”
“Uh-“ Pim began, clearly frazzled by the sudden burst of energy. His next words were careful, like he was afraid the thing he was about to say would deeply offend Charlie. “Yesterday was Wednesday, so that makes today Thursday..?”
Charlie throws his hands up in the air triumphantly, bellowing a loud “LETS FUCKING GOOO!” as he does so. Pim’s upstairs neighbor stomps in protest, but he doesn’t care. He’s having the best fucking morning of his entire life.
Once his screaming dies down, Pim looks at Charlie with a look that could only be described as ‘endearingly disgusted’, and rubs at his face with a soft huff. He looks up from his hand, desperately trying to cover his smile, and asks: “Do you want some eggs?”
“Hell yeah, brother.” Charlie says, and surveys the ground for his undershirt that was probably discarded in the middle of the night. Seeing it, he picks it up, and slips it back on before following Pim into the living room.
Apparently, Pim wakes up at 6am. This leaves him with quite a lot of time to get ready for work. Apparently it was his routine to make himself breakfast, watch The Wheel Of Fortune, and drink a glass of milk on his couch while he woke up for the day.
“Watching the Wheel of Fortune is grandma behavior.” Charlie says around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Pim looks at him with that endearingly disgusted look again, and rolls his eyes.
“I thought it was ‘old hag’ behavior?” He asked, wiping his face off with a paper towel and placing his empty plate on the coffee table.
“It’s simultaneously old hag and grandma behavior.” Charlie says, and moves to stand up. His knees crack and pop in ways that you would expect from microwaved popcorn- not twenty eight year old joints. He grabs Pim’s plate, and goes to put it in his sink. As he does this, his own alarm goes off- and he almost flinches.
There’s a brief, horrible worry that this all was just a dream- that he’s going to wake up in his bed, alone, in his gross apartment. But when he opens his eyes again- he’s still standing in Pim’s kitchen, rinsing off a plate in his sink. Silently, he whispers a ‘Thank you’ to God before turning to Pim and shutting off his alarm.
“I guess that means I should head back to my place.” He says with a frown. “I should probably hop in the shower before I get to work.”
Pim props himself up on the arm of his sofa, and he looks at Charlie with a warm smile. Then as Charlie walks towards him, his expression falters a little. “Uh- would you want to maybe… get dinner tonight?”
The question is soft and sheepish- and Charlie has to remind himself that he literally just slept in the same bed with Pim. Still, his heart flutters a little and he finds himself blushing at the question.
“Sorry, man. I can’t.” He says, feigning sadness. It’s hard to do with a smirk on his face, though. “I’m gonna be going on a date with my hot new boyfriend. You should meet him sometime- he’s a real stud.”
Pim’s expression twists into a shocked and anxious look before the joke clicks in his head, and Charlie finds himself snorting as Pim’s face goes from rosy pink to ruby red in record speed. He walks over and places a finger under Pim’s chin, tilting it upwards.
“Wait!” He whines, pushing Charlie away. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!”
“Ugh. You cant blue-ball a brother like that, man.” Charlie grumbles playfully.
“I’m not your brother, dude. We’ve literally kissed.”
“Step brother?” Charlie offers.
“Get out of my house!” Pim demands, shoving Charlie away with a wide grin.
Thanks to some expert maneuvering on Charlie’s part, he’s able to steal a kiss from Pim before quickly retreating out the door. Pim tastes like eggs, and Charlie doesn’t particularly mind it.
The walk home was very different than what it had been yesterday. The sky was clear, birds were chirping, and everything had a fresh layer of morning dew from the night prior. Normally he would have found the harshness of the sun to be annoying, but not today. Today he was thankful.
Charlie’s morning was uneventful, but he preferred it that way. He got home, took a quick shower, and bad another minor nosebleed. As he stood in front of his mirror with a towel around his waist and shoved another tissue up his nose, his phone vibrated.
If you were to ask Charlie Dompler what the first message Pim Pimling would send him once they started dating, he would certainly not have answered with a reddit post.
The text was a link to an r/interestingasfuck post- because of course Pim was the kind of guy to subscribe to r/interestingasfuck- and Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle. But that chuckle immediately died in his throat when he saw the image and headline attached to the article.
r/interestingasfuck: Philadelphia Woman Arrested for Laundering Thousands of Dollars doing Tarot Card Readings
Lo and behold, there was a mugshot of a very familiar face just below the headline. In all of her shitty goth makeup glory was a photo of Miss Terious, holding one of those number cards for the Philadelphia Police Department.
‘thats what she gets for pretending to be a psychic’ Charlie types back, and puts the phone down on his dresser. In an instant, his phone chimes loudly- and then it chimes again, and again. Clearly he’s ruffled some feathers. But he could deal with that later.
Besides, he had to get ready for work. Those people weren’t going to smile by themselves.