Requiem [COMPLETED]

Mandatory chapter full of all the *feels*

Sven couldn't concentrate at work. He felt like he was in a daze the whole night. He borrowed someone's cell phone when he went out for a smoke break and texted Charlie's mobile. 

Sven: It's Sven. I really need to talk to you asap. Something major happened today in my head.

Chuck <3: what??? you okay

Sven: I dunno I guess. I was so afraid and then it turned out everything's not what I thought. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. I can't talk to anybody about it though just you.

Chuck <3: what's it about?

Sven: You. And me. And me thinking I was fucked up about stuff.

Chuck <3: and you're not anymore?

Sven: I don't think so... it's hard to explain. Can I talk to you when I get off of work?

Chuck <3: Yeah. call me when you get home. but everything's okay?

Sven: I think so. I think it's going to be.

*****

Of course, Sven would pick a football field to meet at with all the connotations from their talks lying on the painted 40 yard line back in high school. The sun struggled in and out of the cloudbank, but the wind was mellow and nothing made rain seem imminent. Handfuls of branches still clung to their brown and red leaves, shaking them like pom poms around the empty aluminum bleachers.

Sven was sitting on the far end of the bleachers leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, chin propped up on his fists. He was reading something, but apparently wasn't engaged by it; he looked up, searching for him. He grabbed what Charlie could now distinguish as a map, rolling it up as he walked to meet him, shoving it in his back pocket. Sven didn't even have a sweater, just an old plaid flannel shirt on over a faded black t-shirt; despite it being almost 60, Charlie had on one of his favorite argyle wool sweaters. Charlie started to get nervous—that he dressed too nice, made too much of an effort, and was paranoid that this conversation was already doomed to fall apart like so many others had. He'd agreed to come 'talk things out' but was already regretting it.

When I arrived—well, I wasn't invited so after my class got out across campus I rather ungracefully snuck up behind the bleachers to eavesdrop—I'd already missed almost a half hour of the conversation.

"You mean... that's the only reason you ended up with him, because he got you white girl wasted and carted you off?"

"Well I sure as hell wouldn't go with him in a sane state of mind," Sven snapped. "It doesn't matter; his plan backfired since he bought us so many rounds. We were totally shitfaced and pretty much blacked out once he got me to his place. I ran out of there in the morning as soon as my legs would support me. Haven't talked to that asshole since...when I found him the night he broke up with you, I didn't say anything. He did but I wasn't listening."

"Wait, but you—but he—you know, you..." Sven was looking at him, playing dumb at first, but Charlie was too hesitant to ask bluntly--"You and he, you know..." His hand gestures weren't the most helpful but Sven picked up on what he was trying to say.

"What? No! Fuck no! Charlie, I haven't gotten past making out with anyone I like yet—and don't you dare tell anyone that—but what kind of guy... do you really think I'd fuck around with someone casually, much less somebody like him? The dude probably watches himself in the mirror when he's fucking, he's a total narcissist! And anyhow we were so drunk we couldn't have pissed straight. I was drunk and depressed, not in love! Do you know his reputation? I'm not the type to go trolling for a good night out. Jesus, Charlie!"