Darling boy

Chapter 9

The band had been riding a wave of small successes lately, their gigs drawing in larger crowds and even some local press attention. Money was trickling in at a not-bad rate for a struggling band, and the audiences were finally singing along to the choruses instead of staring at their phones. It was enough to make the whole scene feel like something real—a spark that could actually catch fire.

That night, they played to a packed bar, the air electric with noise and sweat. Charlie was on his game, fingers gliding over the guitar strings with a precision that surprised even himself. The crowd's energy seemed to blur his thoughts, leaving him in a state where everything was heightened and immediate.

He'd started wearing glasses recently—thick-rimmed ones that perched on the bridge of his nose and magnified his already big doe eyes. His vision had been getting worse, and though the glasses were a necessity, they ended up giving him a sort of effortless charm that drew second glances. Even William, mid-song, had found his eyes straying toward Charlie more than once, watching the way the glasses framed his delicate features. It was a look that did something to him, sent a low buzz of tension through his veins that wasn't purely musical.

By the end of the concert, William was tense, restless in a way that was building pressure with each passing minute. He needed an outlet, and the post-show adrenaline only fueled the fire. He grabbed a drink—or maybe it was a few—quickly slipping into a haze of alcohol-induced boldness. Before long, he was surrounded by a small circle of fangirls, each one more than willing to give him the attention he craved. He leaned in and kissed one, then another, not caring much about the impression it gave. It was sloppy, uncoordinated, and at this point, he wasn't exactly picky.

Charlie watched awkwardly from a distance, his big eyes blinking behind the glasses as he saw William move from one girl to the next. The scene left him feeling a strange mixture of discomfort and fascination. He wasn't sure why he kept looking—maybe it was because it felt like watching someone unravel in slow motion, or maybe it was the curiosity of wondering what made William act that way, so unhinged and desperate.

But his attention was abruptly diverted when an older man stumbled over, eyes lingering on him in a way that felt shamelessly suggestive. "Hey there, cutie," the man slurred, inching closer. "What's a pretty thing like you doing standing around alone?"

Charlie felt the skin on his arms prickle with discomfort, his expression tightening. "Just... waiting for someone," he mumbled, already taking a step back. He hated being put on the spot like this, especially by someone who seemed to think his awkwardness was an invitation.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, heading toward the parking lot to put some distance between himself and the crowded bar. The cool air outside hit him, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere indoors. He leaned against the concrete wall, trying to steady himself, the night's chaos still ringing in his ears.

He was only half-aware of the car pulling up nearby, the headlights briefly blinding him before the engine cut off. The door opened, and out stumbled William, his clothes disheveled, hair a mess, and lipstick smeared faintly along his neck. A girl climbed out of the passenger seat, giggled, and gave him a lazy wave before wandering off. William's gaze followed her for a moment, then shifted to Charlie, standing there looking like he'd walked into something he wasn't supposed to see.

For a split second, there was a flicker of guilt in William's expression. "Charlie," he said, his voice slurring just a little as he straightened up. "What're you doing out here?"

Before Charlie could respond, William's hand reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, tugging him toward the car. The door clicked shut behind them, and then there was no space left between them—just the dark interior and the low hum of the car radio playing a soft, forgotten tune.

The next moment, William's mouth was on his, hot and desperate, like he'd been waiting all night for this. He kissed Charlie hungrily, hands moving to cup his face, to press him back against the seat. Charlie squirmed, muttering half-protests against William's lips—"You're drunk... we shouldn't..."—but it was as though his own voice was dissolving in the heat of the moment.

William's hands roamed over him, pushing up his shirt to feel the bare skin beneath, fingertips brushing over his ribs, his stomach. The kiss deepened, and soon Charlie's own hands were moving as well, trembling but responsive, tracing the hard lines of William's jaw, the softness of his hair. The heat was intoxicating, like every touch was lighting a fuse that had been waiting to burn.

As they fumbled with each other's clothes, breathless and eager, there was an almost unspoken understanding—this wasn't about tenderness or some sudden awakening of deeper feelings. It was about now, about this feverish need to feel something real in a world that often felt too blurred and confusing.

Their kisses turned messy, a mix of tongues and gasps, each one urging the other on. William's fingers found their way under the waistband of Charlie's jeans, and his voice came out low, rough. "Is this okay?" he asked, his breath hot against Charlie's ear, his tone carrying a hint of restraint, even now.

"Yes," Charlie whispered, and his voice was shaky but sure. "It's okay."

With that, the last barrier fell away. Hands pulled at denim, bodies shifted in the tight space, and they collided again in a fervor of lips and skin. The inside of the car became their whole world, as if nothing existed outside its fogged-up windows. There was no room for anything but the sound of their breaths mingling, the taste of each other's sweat, the frantic push and pull as they sank deeper into the pleasure of it all.

It was raw, physical, and had no expectations beyond what it was—a momentary surrender, a giving in to the electric pulse of lust and curiosity, with no promises to complicate things further.