Charles and Richard Chapter 18

The next day, Charles still couldn’t regain his composure at all. He decided to go swimming in the lake. The early summer sun was scorching, so Charles went straight to the lake as soon as school ended. He took off his shirt and jeans, tossed them on the shore, and plunged into the water, swimming and splashing around frantically for a while.

After swimming in the lake for a few hours, drying off in the sun, and napping, it was suddenly time for the sun to set. Charles’s mind was still completely filled with Richard, yet at the same time, it felt utterly empty. Still unable to calm down, he boarded the bus home without having accomplished anything.

Following his usual habit, Charles got off at the stop where the open-air bars were clustered, and the moment he stepped off the bus, he ran straight into Richard. Richard was half-lying on the grass with a beer bottle in one hand, and when he spotted Charles, he called out to him.

R: Charles!

Charles ignored him. He adjusted his bag and started walking quickly. Richard strode over to him in an instant. He had grown astonishingly tall—he seemed to be nearly 190 centimeters. Maybe even a little more. Charles wasn’t short himself (he was 184 centimeters), but standing next to Richard, he felt smaller, probably because of his build.

Richard grinned. Charles’s heart was pounding so hard he was afraid Richard would notice.

R: Charles, where are you coming from?

C: ….

R: Are you heading home?

C: ….

Charles stared intently at Richard. It was hard to stand there facing him and not look at that handsome face. Charles walked past Richard without answering. Richard didn’t call after him. When Charles suddenly turned around, Richard had disappeared somewhere.

Charles had his second wet dream of the week. Richard appeared once more and helped him out. It was the eighteen-year-old version of Richard again. Charles wrapped himself up in his blanket, writhing in torment, and ended up falling off the bed.

Finally, Charles decided not to sleep. Every night, he went up to the attic, smoked cigarettes, read magazines, and when morning came, he went to school and slept face-down on his desk. That was how desperately Charles tried to avoid Richard (the one in his dreams), but on Friday, he had no choice but to go pick up his mother. It was a promise Charles and his mother had kept for years, and he didn’t want to break it because of Richard.

Charles forced his reluctant feet to carry him to the repair shop. He’d always enjoyed coming to the shop on Fridays. He’d sit in a corner of the workshop, listen to his iPod, and watch the mechanics, wrapping up the week that way. Now that would be difficult because of Richard… or so he thought, but before he knew it, Charles was sitting on a stack of boxes in a corner of the workshop, watching Richard.

Richard was damned sexy. Even the black oil stain on the bridge of his nose was perfect. As soon as he spotted Charles, he flashed a wide grin.

R: Charles!

C: ….

R: Here to pick up your mother?

C: ….

R: Let’s go in together today!

C: ….

Charles sat on the boxes, silent, staring fixedly at Richard. When he got no response, Richard grinned once more and went back to work. He really shouldn’t be staring so intently. He knew that, but putting it into practice was too hard. Richard seemed to have tied Charles’s gaze to his waist. Every time Richard turned sideways while working, the twist of his waist and shoulders drove Charles right to the edge.

Charles stared blankly at the muscles that rippled clearly every time Richard put force into his arms, then suddenly snapped back to his senses. It was time to stop now. Praying that Richard hadn’t noticed his gaze, Charles finally managed to tear his eyes away and went back to his mother’s office.

After work, Charles’s mother, Richard, and Charles walked home together. Charles let the two of them walk side by side and stayed a few steps behind. Richard’s ass was, without a doubt… anyway, contrary to what Charles had expected, Richard didn’t stay for dinner that day. He said he had other plans.

R: See you next week, Mom.

Mother: Take care on your way home.

R: See you too, Charles.

C: ….

The following Tuesday. When Charles came home after school, Richard was there. He was looking at his father’s car. Charles had no idea how he’d managed to come here instead of working at the repair shop, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Richard had the car hood open and was peering inside, and the prominent tendons in his arms holding up the hood immediately captured Charles’s attention.

Father: Charlie, is that you?

At those words, Richard twisted his head to look back and smiled so wide his eyes crinkled.

R: Hi, Charles.

C: ….

R: Are you done for the day?

C: ….

Charles didn’t answer and went inside the house. The moment he closed the front door, his legs gave way and he slumped to the floor. Cherry, who had been lying in the shade of the hallway to escape the heat, wagged her tail a few times in greeting, then fell silent again. That was a relief. Charles slid down and lay flat on the floorboards as well.

The cool touch of the floorboards chilled his overheated neck. He couldn’t tell whether the heat in his neck was from the weather or from Richard. No, actually, he knew. He lay on the floor rolling around, but when he heard a noise, he sprang up and ran upstairs. Moments later, he heard the front door open.

R: Charles, I’m going to buy some ice cream—do you want some?

C: ….

R: I’ll get you one too!

C: ….

A little while later, someone knocked on his door. Charles didn’t answer. Soon, he heard footsteps going back down the stairs. Only then did Charles open the door. An ice cream cone was sitting in front of it.

Two weeks had passed since Richard had come back. Charles still hadn’t spoken to him. He kept fidgeting with the black oil stain left on his earbuds. It was the smudge Richard had made the first time they met. Every time Charles put his earbuds in, the black stain made him think of Richard, and every time he took them out, he remembered Richard pulling the cord out for him. He thought he should throw those damned earbuds out right away. He thought that many times, but in the end, he gave up on the idea.

Charles still hadn’t decided how he wanted to treat Richard. Did he want to date Richard? Did he? Maybe. The thought made him even more confused. Me? With Richard? Why? If he were being rational, he could come up with dozens of reasons, but Charles wasn’t being rational.

He went to the park to skateboard, took Cherry to the vet for regular checkups, and often went to his father’s store to learn the ropes, running into Richard occasionally—but every time, Charles’s reaction was the same.

On the way to the park

R: Going skateboarding? Can I come too?

C: ….

R: …Okay, see you later, then!

On the way to the vet with Cherry

R: Charles! Cherry! Where are you off to?

Cherry: Woof! Woof!

C: ….

R: Going for a walk?

C: ….

Cherry: Woof! Woof!