Work Text:
Rain patters against the roof of Swan Auto Repair, and the smell of motor oil, grease, and the remnants of old coffee fills the air. Charlie sits slumped at his desk in the back office of his shop, his head propped against his arm wrinkling the papers underneath. His faded flannel shirt is worn and rolled up to his elbows, exposing his oil-smudged hands and forearms. A distant ringing pulls him further out of his slumber and he blinks blearily as he attempts to regain his senses.
He sits up with a groan, his back aching from his uncomfortable position. His steps toward the reception area are uncoordinated and he stumbles a little as he reaches for the phone on the wall.
He picks up the phone and presses it against his ear.
“Swan Auto” he answers, his voice thick with sleep.
“Charlie?” your voice rings out on the other line.
He straightens at the sound of your voice, and he’s surprised his heart didn’t lurch out of his chest. He can’t remember the last time he heard your voice, but it sounds just like it did the day you left.
He forces himself out of his thoughts. “Been a while. Everything okay?”
Your voice quivers as you speak. “I’d be better if my car didn’t break down in the middle of the night. Would you be willing to give an old friend a tow?”
He likes to think you were more than old friends. The nights you used to spend tangled in his sheets surely meant something to him.
“Where are you?”
He holds the phone with his shoulder as he searches for his jacket. You rattle off your location, which is mostly just a combination of landmarks.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon,” he says before hanging up. He grabs his jacket from a nearby coat rack and heads toward his tow truck. He wonders if you’ve changed at all. Forks had been a constant in his life, even after it felt like his world had been turned upside down by your departure. He figured the same could be applied to him. He hadn't changed except for a few more gray hairs and the sense not to get attached.
He sighs as he climbs into his ancient tow truck. It sputters to life, and Charlie begins his drive towards your location.
He pulls in front of your car on the side of the road and hardly has enough time to throw it in park before he jumps out to meet you. You’re standing near your car, soaked to the bone.
“Charlie!” you call as you head toward his truck.
He wraps an arm around your shoulder and ushers you toward the passenger side of his truck. He practically shoves you in the seat before slamming the door behind you.
He clambers into his truck, grateful to be out of the rain. He turns to look at you, taking in your appearance. The rain had soaked through your clothes, forcing them to cling tightly to your form. He can’t help his gaze from wandering, watching as water trickles down your neck and dips between the valley of your breasts.
“You’re drenched,” he says, forcing himself to look anywhere else but your tits. Your teeth begin to chatter and he reaches over to turn the heat up.
“Why didn’t you just wait in the car?” he questions, his voice rough but not unkind.
You shrug, “Felt weird just sitting there.”
His gaze softens as he looks at you, really looks at you, not just your soaking wet clothes. You hadn’t changed a bit. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d dreamed of just being in your presence once more, and now that he was really with you he didn’t know what to do.
You turn to face him, “Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“Probably getting hypothermia,” he sighs. “Stay here while I hook your car up. We’ll take it back to the shop, and I can take a look at it there.”
He doesn’t wait for your reply before jumping out of his truck. He works quickly to hook up your car, the rain only slightly inhibiting his progress. By the time he returns to you, he’s drenched and shivering. He’s thankful you’ve cranked the heat, and he takes a moment to defrost.
“It’s good to see you, even if the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal,” you said, cutting through the awkward silence that fell upon you.
He cleared his throat and started his truck. He was silent as he pulled out onto the road. Pine trees passed by in a flash as he picked up speed. The sooner he could get you back to his shop, the sooner he could get away from you. That’s what you wanted, right?
“I told you to get rid of that piece of crap when you had the chance,” he mentioned, nodding his head toward his rearview mirror.
You grinned, “It got me this far, hasn’t it?”
“Speaking of, why now? Couldn’t find what you were looking for halfway across the country?” he questioned and it came out harsher than he intended.
His words lingered between you, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The silence that filled the cab of his truck was suffocating, and he counted down the seconds until he pulled into his shop.
The rain had lightened up only slightly as he dropped your car off at his shop. You followed him into the back office as the tension simmered between you. He leans on the edge of his desk, taking in your appearance. You haven’t aged a day; you just look a bit more tired, maybe a little more sad.
“M’sorry about earlier,” he begins.
You wave him off, “I deserved it, don’t worry about it.”
“Still,” he shrugs, meeting your gaze, “it wasn’t fair. You had every right to leave this town and chase your dreams.”
You take a step towards him, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. That wasn’t fair.”
He resists the urge to pull you in and kiss all the regrets away. You shift on your feet before taking another step closer, situating yourself between his thighs. It almost seems like you’ve read his mind.
You cup his face and he leans into your touch. A soft noise escapes him as you drag your thumb across his cheek.
“I missed you,” he murmurs as he looks up at you.
Your eyes search his for a moment, and the next thing he knows you’re leaning in. Your lips collide, and it's everything he’s dreamt about for the past few years. You kiss him, and it’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like you never left.
You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. He groans against your mouth and slides his tongue against your bottom lip. His hands wander downward and squeeze your ass, earning a small yelp in response. He uses the opportunity and runs his tongue across the backs of your teeth.
You pull away, panting, your breath tickling his cheeks. Your eyes meet, and the slight nod of your head is all it takes for the rest of his resolve to crumble underneath your fingertips.
He grabs you and spins the two of you so you’re pressed against his desk. “Gotta get you outta these wet clothes, baby,” he mentions as his hands wander under the hem of your shirt.
You hum, pulling him in by his flannel. Your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, and his hands skim across your body, almost as if memorizing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Although, he doubts he could ever forget the feeling.
One hand pops the closure of your jeans while the other wraps lightly around your neck, squeezing slightly as you kiss him.
“You miss me as much as I miss you?” he questions as he dips his hand down your pants. His fingertips brush against your clothed core, and you gasp against him. He hums, “Certainly feels like you missed me.”
He presses open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck as he teases you through your underwear. You tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, and your quiet moans quickly turned into desperate pleas.
The urge to have you desperate and crying for his cock nearly overwhelms him. A small part of him wants you to feel like he felt all those years– release just close enough that you can taste it but too far to fully grasp it.
A larger, louder part of him wants to bury his cock in you and have you singing his name within the next 30 seconds. That part of him won.
He pushes you back against the hard expanse of his desk and makes quick work of your jeans and underwear. He tugs them down and off your body, leaving you bare before him. He could’ve come just from the sight of you. You looked up at him as you spread your thighs, baring your glistening cunt for him. Just for him.
He slides a finger through your folds, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, muffling a whine.
He halts his movements. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear those pretty little noises you make.”
You give him an obedient nod, and he continues. He swipes a finger through your folds, gathering your slick as he circles your clit. You arch against his touch, moaning a little.
His free hand moves upward to push up your t-shirt over your breasts. His fingers run over the lacy front of your bra, and when that isn’t enough for him, he pulls down the front of your bra. He circles your nipples, mirroring his ministrations on your clit, and the buds harden under his touch.
He sinks his finger into your core, pumping it a few times and eliciting a breathy moan from you. He wants to take his time with you, despite the raging desire to ruin you. He wants you to keep crawling back to him because no one can make you feel the way that he does.
You give him an all too familiar pleading look, and he decides to take mercy on you just this once. He pops the button on his jeans and eagerly pushes down his boxers just enough to let his cock spring free. He pulls out of you and coats his cock with your arousal. He pumps his hand a few times before sliding his cock through your folds. You whine each time his head hits your clit, and it's music to his ears.
He plunges into you inch by tantalizing inch. Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in closer. You felt heavenly against him, squeezing him just right. The plush skin of your thigh sinks under his fingertips as he pushes your thighs near your chest, practically bending you in half. He begins to rock his hips, nearly getting lost in the sensation of you already.
Your walls flutter and clench around him. You arch your back as he readjusts his angle, hitting the sensitive spot inside you. He reaches down to where the two of you meet and draws lazy figure-eights against your clit, earning a whine in response.
The familiar heat builds within his abdomen and he wills himself to last a little longer. He needs to feel you cum around his cock, and the thought consumes him as he thrusts harder into you.
He grabs your face with his free hand and leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. It’s a mixture of tongue and teeth, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The obscene sounds of your sopping heat and skin slapping against skin fill his back office. It’s nearly enough to make his cheeks flush.
Your thighs clamp against his sides as you throw your head back and cum with a strangled cry. Your pussy squeezes him like a vice as your release crashes over you, and his thrusts falter.
He grips your hips and juts into you for a final time as he cums hard, filling you just how you liked. A comfortable silence lingers between you as you both catch your breath.
He slowly pulls out of you and watches as his release leaks over your folds. He attempts to commit the image to memory, just in case this is the last time you’ll be together like this.
You grab at his flannel and tug him down for a kiss. It’s much softer than your previous ones. He prays it’s not a kiss goodbye.
“You in town for long?” he questions as he pulls away.
You shrug, “For the foreseeable future.”
“You got a place to stay tonight?”
You shake your head and look up at him with those eyes he could never resist.
“You can stay at my place, and I’ll take a look at your car in the morning. Deal?”
You stand and press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“Deal.”