Rivalries: Chapter Nineteen, Part One

 Notes: We're back in Charlie's POV, out of that very nasty situation in the lab and into a very nasty situation at school. Damn, it's all nasty.

Title: Rivalries: Chapter Nineteen, Part One

***

Chapter Nineteen, Part One

 

Charlie was no stranger to early morning wakeup calls, but he didn’t like seeing John dragged into something he clearly didn’t like. It wasn’t Charlie’s place to tell him what to do about it, though—certainly wasn’t his place to say “Tell that horrible person to shove it where the sun don’t shine and come back to bed,” especially when he might get information that could help Ari.

Ari, who was leaving texts and occasional messages during the day now, strictly against his mother’s orders, but he sounded so miserable that Charlie didn’t say anything about it. Hell, maybe she knew. Maybe both of them ignoring it and giving her child this poor but better-than-nothing outlet for his affliction was all that was keeping the two of them sane.

They were going to make a trip out soon, within the next few weeks—ostensibly so Huda could start looking for homes in the area, but really so that Ari and Charlie could have some in-person time. That had helped before, given the boy the strength to go on even though he always looked like his heart was breaking when he left.

Ari had actually slipped up and called Charlie “Dad” last time. His mother had been mortified. It had to hurt, seeing her son fixate on a person who had no connection to them other than the fact that he’d been in the right place at the right time.

Charlie had saved Ari’s life, that was true. He’d been part of a team of people to do that, though, and his mother had orchestrated it, kicked up such a fuss that the State Department had insisted they get operational support from the best the army had to offer.

He’d just been a well-armed cog in the military machine, and now—hell, he thought, glancing at his right side as he made coffee—he wasn’t even all that “armed” any more. Hardly a healthy person for any kid to fixate on, much less one who belonged to an almost total stranger.

You’re being too hard on yourself. The voice of Charlie’s shoulder angel sounded a hell of a lot like John. Naturally. You were there when he needed you. You’re doing your best. We both are. We’ll figure it out. John was off doing that right now, working with those researchers on something dark and twisted and promising answers for Ari. The least Charlie could do was get to school on time.

He was actually a little bit late, which was the only reason he saw what he did as he pulled into the parking lot. There was Roland, one hand holding onto the strap of his backpack, the other pressed against the car behind him like if he pushed hard enough, it would open up and let him through. And in front of him was…

“Oh, hell no!” Charlie stopped John’s car in the middle of the lot, to a chorus of honks that he gave exactly zero fucks about, and ran over to Roland’s side as fast as he could get there. When the woman cornering the boy noticed Charlie coming, she withdrew a little bit. Roland moved behind Charlie’s back as soon as he could.

“Oh,” Mrs. Patterson said, her face a perfect, faintly smiling mask of upper-middle class, bland respectability. “You must be one of Roland’s new teachers.”

“I am,” or close enough, “and I know that you’re not allowed contact with him,” Charlie said through gritted teeth.

Her smile didn’t waver. “I haven’t touched him.”

“Speaking to him is contact.” It was all he could do not to shout. “What are you doing here anyway? You don’t have children, after all.”

The mask slipped a little bit. “I’m here to speak to a friend,” Mrs. Patterson said coolly. “I happened to see Roland and merely came over to ask how he was doing. I’m sure he’s had a number of big adjustments lately.”

“You would know, being the cause of most of them.” Charlie shook his head. “We’re done here. I’m reporting you to the principal, too. You can’t—”

“Oh, come now,” the voice that made Charlie’s blood pressure surge said from behind him. Roland made a soft, pained sound as Principal Cross stepped in front of them. She looked oddly satisfied. “This is hardly the sort of incident that merits tattling to me, Mr. Verlaine. Linda is a friend of mine and was simply coming by here to talk to me, as she already said.”

“You need to clarify to your friend how to avoid breaking the law,” Charlie insisted. “The ‘no contact’ rule includes random chats in parking lots.” His eyes shot daggers at Mrs. Patterson. “I wonder what the judge in charge of the case would have to say about this.”

“And how do you know so much about what should be a sealed file?” Principal Cross challenged, putting her hands on her hips. “Perhaps your counselor friend has been spilling secrets. Maybe I should have him brought up on an ethics charge.”

Charlie thought fast. “I was notified of these details by Roland’s case worker when his new foster parents decided to let him observe my after-school club while he waits for a pickup.” It was technically—very technically—true. The case worker had included Charlie in her discussion with Debra, but he doubted she even remembered it.

“Really? Shall I call her and ask about that?”

Gauntlet thrown. They were at an impasse. “I thing there are better ways for you to spend your time,” Charlie said at last.

“And you’re already late for class. I suggest you hurry up.” She glanced in the direction of his car. “And move that immediately.”

Charlie turned to look at Roland, who was glassy eyed. “Can you make it to class by yourself?” he asked quietly.

“I—I think I—” He finally nodded, but it wasn’t very believable. Welp, time to disobey an order from his principal. Hopefully the line of cars behind him wouldn’t get too long before—

“I’ll walk with him.”

All four of them turned around to look in surprise at Nanda, the girl with the weather knack. She had a pugnacious expression on her face, and the air around her head seemed oddly charged.

Principal Cross found her voice first. “You should be in class—”

“First period is study hall for me. Come on.” Nanda held out a hand to Roland, who took it eagerly. They walked away without a second glance.

Charlie wished he could do the same. He made do with ignoring the women he’d been on the verge of a shouting match with and going to move John’s car.

They were going to have a lot to talk about when John got in.

Rivalries: Chapter Fourteen, Part Two

 Notes: Aaand time to move the plot forward instead of just having sex! Not that the sex didn't move the plot forward, IMO, but still. Onward, to words!

Title: Rivalries: Chapter Fourteen, Part Two

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Chapter Fourteen, Part Two

 

An hour later, they were sitting in a diner forty minutes away from Johnny’s house but only a short walk from the group home where Roland was staying now. According to his caseworker, he’d requested a meeting with Johnny before he went back to school. What could Johnny do but say yes? He’d already assured Roland he’d do everything in his power to keep him out of the spotlight, and especially out of the sites of Linda Patterson, who had proven oddly difficult to shake.

Most times, if a fostering situation didn’t work out, both parties were ready to move on. The Pattersons kept inquiring about Roland, though—to the point where it had distressed him enough that his caseworker stopped mentioning it to him, but still told Johnny. He’d promised to look out for him at school, and act as a roadblock between them and Roland if necessary.

He really hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. He didn’t wat to think about the kind of knack it would take to handle that power couple at once.

“You sure the kid’s not going to mind me tagging along?” Charlie asked for the second time since sitting down. He was already on his second cup of coffee, and had ordered a huge plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes for breakfast.

“I asked, and his caseworker said he was fine with it.” Still… “If he changes his mind, though—”

“I’ll go grab a seat at the counter.”

“Why are you being so cool with this?” Johnny asked, partly out of fun but partly serious too. He couldn’t think of any previous partner—for a given value of partner, ie someone who was more than a one-night stand at least—who would have been okay getting summoned out of a sexy shower to go meet with a traumatized teenager on Saturday morning.

“Eh.” Charlie took a long sip of steaming coffee and didn’t even blink at its scalding temperature. “I know how it is to have a kid in your life who needs you, whether you want it that way or not.”

“The one you were talking to before?” Johnny ventured. “Um, Ari, right?”

“Right.” Charlie’s mouth turned down at the corners, then he glanced at Johnny. “I wasn’t going to bring him up, but actually, you might be one of the only people I can think of who might be able to give me advice on this.”

Johnny was happy to help, but… “What sort of advice? Because if it’s legal advice you’re looking for, you should know I’m not allowed to—”

“No, no.” Charlie put his cup down and waved his hand. “Not at all. His mother has so many lawyers at her beck and call they could fill a law school. It’s more about the nature of his knack. It’s either unique, or so close to it that we can’t find a parallel anywhere else in record, and that’s bad because it makes it almost impossible to figure out a way to—”

“Excuse me? Mr. Gibilisco?” A figure with broad shoulders stood hunched beneath a hoodie, his chin tucked so low it almost rested on his chest, stood a few feet away. Just behind him was a small Latina woman who Johnny recognized as one of the foster parents in his new home.

“Roland!” Johnny waved to him. “Come on over, join us!” He and Charlie were on the same side of the booth, leaving one side free for Roland.

He slid in, and his foster mother said, “Thank you, Mr. Gibilisco, I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” and walked back outside.

“This is Mr. Verlaine,” Johnny said, pointing at Charlie. “He teaches at the new place.”

Roland appeared to be doing his best not to stare at the missing arm, but didn’t quite manage it. Johnny hurried on. “Would you like some breakfast? I’m buying, it’s fine—”

“No, thanks,” Roland interrupted. “Ms. Rosa already made breakfast, I’m not hungry.”

Johnny could hardly remember not being hungry as a teenage boy, but he wouldn’t push it if Roland didn’t want to go there. “Juice, then? Coffee?”

Roland hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” They ordered him another cup and waited for him to doctor it with cream and sugar before Johnny started to speak.

“You said you had something to talk to me about?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of?” Roland took a sip, holding onto his mug with both hands. “I know Camille has already talked to you about this, but…I wanted you to know that I really, really don’t want to see Mrs. Patterson again. Not ever, but definitely not at school.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Johnny said gently. “She has no reason to be there.”

“She’s friends with their principal,” Roland spat. “She had her over a few times. I recognized her name when I found out I had to switch to Euryale.”

Johnny went very serious and still. “Roland, did Principal Cross ever make you do anything you didn’t want to do in that house?”

He shook his head. “No, but…I don’t trust any of them. None of her friends, and definitely not her. She…” Roland looked frustrated, biting his upper lip for a moment. “I have weird dreams about her. Not—like—not really weird, not like touching dreams—but dreams where she’s sitting by my bed and talking to me while I’m asleep. I don’t remember what she’s saying, but I remember that she’s there.” He glanced up. “I also don’t remember having any dreams at all in that house while I was there. Just…the study sessions.”

“It could just be your brain processing the things that she did to you while you were awake,” Johnny offered. He was startled when Charlie spoke up.

“What’s her knack?”

“She’s a foci,” Johnny supplied. “She works for several pharmaceutical companies, if I remember right.”

“Huh.” He looked at Roland. “Do you remember which ones?”

“Um…Rayview and G&J, I think.”

Charlie nodded, looking both thoughtful and a little grim. “G&J did a test study about eighteen months ago with some of the incoming special forces. They were trying out a new drug that was supposed to allow a person to effectively process new information in their sleep. A ‘chemical foci knack,’ as it were.”

Roland seemed intrigued. “Did it work?”

“Not even close.” Charlie sighed. “We lost a whole class of newbies thanks to that drug trial. They were constantly exhausted, got no rest even while they were asleep, and none of the new skills stuck. Some of them had permanent issues with insomnia.” His jaw tightened. “One of them killed himself a few months after the trial ended. The military’s contract with G&J was called off after that.”

“Oh, wow!” Rather than being scared, Roland sounded thrilled, and a little relieved as well. “Do you think maybe she was trying that on me? Giving me the drug and testing whether or not it worked?”

“We don’t need to be jumping to any conclusions,” Johnny warned. Still, if she had been testing a drug on her foster kid…there was no limit to the amount of pain Johnny would put her through for that.

“I’ll make some inquiries,” Charlie said, sipping his own coffee. “And if you want to come hang out in my classroom and wait there for Ms. Rosa to pick you up, that’s fine with me. Nobody’s getting in there that I don’t want to.”

If Roland’s eyes got any wider, they’d fall out of his skull. “Really?”

“Sure.” Breakfast arrived, Johnny’s omelet looking downright boring next to Charlie’s extravagant spread. Across from them, Roland shifted a little.

“And what’ll this young man have?” their waitress asked cheerfully.

“Um…actually…”

“Go ahead,” Johnny said, and he was gratified—but not surprised—when Roland ordered the exact same thing Charlie was eating.

Cue the hero worship, maybe. Well, Johnny couldn’t blame him.

There were definitely worse heroes to pick than Charlie Verlaine.

Rivalries: Chapter Fourteen, Part One

 Notes: Have a fun, sexy shower scene, because we all deserve a good damn time before I fuck things up again ;) But not too much!

Title: Rivalries: Chapter Fourteen, Part One

 ***

Chapter Fourteen, Part One

 

Never in a million years had Johnny ever thought he’d wake up in the morning next to Charlie Verlaine in bed, his arm slung over Johnny’s waist like it belonged there.  It was like being in a dream…if his dream included an overly-full bladder making its presence known, and a set of sheets that he really should have changed last night but weren’t because—hello, tired and sexually sated meant there was no way he was doing anything other than falling asleep once round two was over. And round two had been…it was…

Johnny shook off the memories before he got hard again and eased out of bed, heading for the bathroom. He relieved himself, pulled off his socks—naked except for socks, so classy—and got into the shower. It was the weekend, at last, and he only had the usual amount of paperwork to do instead of the crippling amount that had stacked up ever since they’d moved the students to Euryale. He fully intended to do everything he could to convince Charlie to stay with him for breakfast, and then maybe lunch, maybe dinner…hell, maybe the weekend.

Don’t move too fast. Except it didn’t feel all that fast, maybe because they’d known each other before, maybe because Charlie hadn’t had any problem at all taking things to the next level.

Speaking of…the door to the bathroom opened, and a second later a hand knocked gently on the wall right next to the shower. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not if you don’t mind being a little cramped,” Johnny replied, scooting over a little.

“Are you kidding? Your shower has walls and a tile floor, that makes it way better than most places I’ve cleaned up in over the past decade.” He slid inside next to Johnny and took up the heat of the spray for a moment, wetting his hair down with a sigh. “Your water pressure is a lot better than mine.”

“Um, thanks?” Despite his best intentions, Johnny felt himself getting hard again. “I’m almost done, I just have to rinse off and then you can have it to yourself.”

Charlie cracked an eyelid and looked at him. “Do you think I want to be in here by myself?”

“I mean…maybe?”

Charlie sighed. “Clearly I suck at being subtle, so I’m just going to come out and ask you if you’d like a blowjob. I’d like to finger you too, if you want it.”

Oh, he…oh! “Yes to both,” Johnny said quickly. “There’s lube, it’s—”

“I see it.” Charlie cracked the bottle open and maneuvered it so he could both hold it open and pour it into his own hand. Johnny reached out belatedly to help, but by then Charlie was done. He knelt down in front of Johnny with easy grace, then leaned forward and very gently ran his bristly chin down the length of Johnny’s cock.

Okay, that had never felt so good before. Johnny leaned back against the shower wall and grabbed the root of his cock, holding it steady as Charlie licked and kissed the tip, finally sliding his mouth over the head. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered, spreading his legs wider to keep himself from falling over.

A second later Charlie’s slick fingers found his rim, circling and rubbing. He was still a little tender from last night—this morning—whenever, but relaxed, too. Johnny sighed with pleasure as Charlie began to breach him, slipping his index finger in up to the second knuckle, then back. “That feels so fucking good,” he slurred, drugged with the pleasure of it already. His own fingers and dildos were all well and good, but there was nothing like having someone else touch him there, someone who really wanted to touch him, not just coerce him open enough to slide inside.

Charlie hummed around his cock. It might have been an affirmation, might just have been a way to light up his nerves, but whatever the reason, it worked. Johnny held the base of his cock tighter, not ready to move on even though his balls were already starting to draw up. Charlie kept it slow, his finger and mouth working in a rhythm that made Johnny ache for more. When he got it in the form of another finger, he moaned with how good it felt, even though the penetration was a little rougher now.

Charlie pulled back. “Can you get the lube?”

“Yeah, I can…” Once he could coordinate his brain enough to reach it, he did so, wincing as Charlie gently freed his fingers, then covering them with more slick. This time when Charlie entered him, it was smooth and easy. Johnny groaned, then shouted as Charlie rubbed right over his prostate. Two fingers became three, and Charlie’s warm mouth sucked his cock inside once more, and a minute later Johnny was holding his own cock so tight to keep from coming he thought he might bruise it. “Do you want to…do you want…” Complete sentences were giving him trouble right now.

Charlie sucked hard along his length, then said, “I want to get you off.”

“Do that with your dick inside me.”

He grinned, and Johnny just about slipped off his feet. “Okay.” The shuffle from kneeling to standing was less graceful, and without the fingers spreading him open and rubbing him to ecstasy Johnny felt slack and empty, but then Charlie turned him around, bent his knees a little to get just at the right level, and slid his slick cock all the way into Johnny with a slow, sensual glide that made his eyes roll back in his head.

He wanted to swear, but he didn’t have the breath for it—wanted to curse, to beg. Thank god he was getting the voice fucked out of him instead, long smooth strokes that left him gasping and aching in the best way. He was still holding his own cock, holding back as best he could, because as soon as he so much as moved his hand, he was going to come.

“You feel so fucking good,” Charlie whispered in his ear, and—okay, maybe he wouldn’t have to move his hand to get off at this rate. “Can’t believe it, I can’t—shit, I can’t stop, I’m going to come, I need to—Johnny, can you—”

“Yes—”

It was almost simultaneous, twin peaks of pleasure drowning them both in bone-melting bliss as they came. Johnny tilted his head back against Charlie’s shoulder, the water flattening his hair as his lover pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “Hey,” Charlie said, a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Johnny replied, beaming so hard his cheeks hurt. “That was—” Wait a second…what was that sound? It stopped…then a few seconds later, it started up again.

It was his phone. Someone was calling him, over and over again.

“Damn it.”

Charlie lifted his head and glanced toward the door. He’d heard it too. “Shower’s over, I guess.”

“Yeah, I have to take that. You can stay in here as long as you want, though.”

Charlie eased out of Johnny’s body, then grabbed the washcloth and made quick work of soaping it up. He rubbed it over Johnny’s back, then between his legs. “I’d rather come with you.”

You already did, Johnny wanted to say, but he held it in. Barely. “Okay.”