New Numb3rs Fic - Don/Charlie
Feb. 28th, 2006 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
castalieDude, not that I'm whining or anything but I'm sick. Again. And on Mardi Gras at that *sigh* The sis and Sandra are as well, I think the three of us shared the nasty little bugger. Aren't we cute? *rolls eyes*
Anyway,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starwatcher307 gave me back my Numb3rs fic today - thank you again for the precious help :-) - so I'm just passing to post the story. I'm writing another Don/Charlie - well, not today that is - which is all about the domesticity and the smut so I feel like I can post a little angst without feeling too guilty about it.
So. The fic.
Title: Second Chance
Pairing: Don/Charlie [Incest]
Rating: PG-13. Or say between PG-13 and R.
Word Count: around 4240
Spoilers: Mention of "Counterfeit Reality"
'One part exuberance, two parts obsession', that's how Kim had described him, according to what Charlie had said that night. It was how she'd described them both. Unlike Charlie, though, who'd been surprised to finally meet someone who could zero in on their similarities instead of being distracted by their differences, Don had only smiled at the description; Kim had always been quite observant. And Don couldn't deny how accurate her assessment was. Nor could Charlie, who had absolutely no intention of forgetting or denying it. He was only too happy to have found someone who thought he had points in common with his brother.
They both had obsessive personalities, that much was clear. People sometimes thought it was more obvious with Charlie, but anyone who knew Don, either professionally or personally, knew that obsession ran in the family.
It translated differently, though. He and Charlie had lived in different worlds most of their lives - still did, though now their worlds collided on an almost daily basis - and not just in bed, where things were easier somehow, but outside as well. Inside the bedroom, they knew each other by heart, knew how the other reacted to their touches, to their kisses; they both moved as one, they finally spoke the same language, both men understanding each other perfectly. But outside, things were still complex. Not that they weren't pleasurable as well, but he and his brother still thought differently, viewed the world differently. Yes, they had a lot of similarities, but they ran in different directions.
It had always been like that. Charlie lived in a world of his own. In effect, Charlie spoke his own language. Don often used that line to diffuse situations where people suddenly got aggressive because they couldn't understand what Charlie was talking about, but in truth, it was exactly that. Charlie had his own language. He was forced to translate a lot when he interacted with people, but that's how it worked in his head. A more important aspect about his brother was that Charlie followed his numbers. Their father's words had been spot on; that was a perfect way of describing Charlie. 'He always tries to solve the unsolvable', was another. That was Charlie, always trying to go further, to see further; there was no doubt that he needed to see the big picture. Charlie refused to just stop at the surface - or maybe he couldn't. Unable to stop at the line like everyone else did, his mind forbade him from following - or even accepting - the rules that you were supposed to submit to.
Charlie lived in chaos most of the time; that was something else Don had finally understood one day. It was the reason why Charlie always seemed distracted, why he was always working on something, why he was always seen writing on a scrap of paper, or with a piece of chalk in his hand, scribbling on his beloved blackboard; Charlie's mind was a miasma of numbers, thoughts, theorems, equations, old theories, new theories, unborn theories. They never let him in peace, and he needed to give them life, to finally put a semblance of order in what was essentially a world of chaos. Of course, he reveled in it and, as time passed - as he got older - he'd learned how to control them enough to use his numbers as much as they seemed to use him. But it was clear that Charlie was always more an observer in this world than a participant.
Don knew it was unfair to think that way about his brother, and it wasn't completely accurate either, but there was more truth in the statement that anyone cared to admit. Don had accepted that particular part of his brother early on. Not without tears - figuratively speaking - but he'd had to make his peace with the knowledge that his brother was unique. Not just because, as his parents always taught him, everyone is unique anyway, but because Charlie was outside the norm and Charlie was different, period.
There had been times in his life when 'accepting their differences' had meant 'acknowledging them' more than really accepting them. He hadn't wanted people to think of him as the genius' big brother, but he'd had to make do with that particular status. He'd fluctuated between starting fights with anyone who dared hurt Charlie with their words, or silently cheering as other kids said out loud what he couldn't ever say himself. But, fortunately, the resentment hadn't lasted long. There's only so much vindictiveness a kid, even a teenager, can feel toward his brother for things he isn't truly responsible for. Although thinking back to those times usually made Don cringe a little, it had been part of his life and he couldn't ignore it. He was just grateful he hadn't followed that route too long.
One day, he had caught a glimpse of the man he wanted to be. From that point on, he'd decided that it didn't matter that his IQ wouldn't ever amount to Charlie's, it didn't matter how many times in the past his little brother had - against Don's wishes - done his homework and made him feel inadequate more than grateful. None of these things mattered, because Don realized that he had his own life to live and that being in the shadow of a younger sibling wasn't a life sentence. He just had to accept, truly accept, that he and Charlie were different, and that it wasn't the end of the world.
Ironically enough, and only after Don viewed things under a different light, could he see how similar he and his brother were. And that was also when things got complicated.
Charlie, who he’d often seen as a sort of alien until then, suddenly became a complex human being who he knew loved him unconditionally, someone he could talk to about everything without judgement, someone he could share his secrets with, knowing he wouldn't be betrayed. And as Charlie turned from child to teenager to young man, he also became quite an attractive human being.
Came the day when Charlie wasn't a child anymore, though even as a teenager there were some childlike traits in him, both physical and emotional, that Don suspected would never really leave his brother. Charlie was growing up, he was discovering the world - as much as he could - and it was clear he was also discovering himself. And Charlie changed. Or maybe it was Don who changed. Or both. Don didn't know. All he knew was that each time they met after a long absence - as often happened with their respective lives in different states - there was this thing between them, some unnamed thing that felt so powerful and so frightening. He didn't know what it was, except for the fact that it was both arousing and disturbing.
Don never wanted it to happen. To be honest, he hadn't even known it could happen, or not to him at any rate. But life had its own agenda and one day, alone in his room, he had to accept the truth. He was attracted to his own brother. Even scarier yet, Charlie seemed to feel the same way.
At that moment, things became even more complicated, because Don was a man of passion. Even then, in his mid-twenties, he always reached for what he wanted, never gave up until he'd tried a multitude of different solutions, until he knew without the shadow of a doubt that defeat was the only outcome. But suddenly what Don wanted, he couldn't obtain. Or maybe he couldn't allow himself to. He couldn't go for what he needed, couldn't cave in to the temptation. And it hurt. But Don was an honorable man, and he had very clear lines he'd always told himself he'd never cross. This 'thing' between him and his brother was definitely an uncrossable line.
He wouldn't risk ruining everything just because he had inappropriate thoughts for his own blood, although each time he saw Charlie he wanted more than anything to touch him, run his hands through those curls, hear Charlie moan his name. He couldn't break every rule in the book just because, in his dreams, he knew the sounds Charlie made when he being made love to, knew how tight Charlie felt around him or because Don knew, deep in his heart, how good they would be together.
For a while, Don couldn't even meet his parents' eyes. It was becoming too much for him to withstand. So he did what he thought was best for everyone; he put even more distance between him and his brother. Not just physically, but emotionally, too.
He went to Quantico, and it gave him the best opportunity to finally try and put everything behind him. He buried himself in his new studies. Then, when his career took off, he moved to Albuquerque and lived for his work. He tried to convince himself that he'd never really felt anything for Charlie, and that Charlie himself had been confused, that he'd mistaken his hero-worship for... something that wasn't real. And it worked. It still hurt but, as time passed, it became easier. It was more like a phantom pain - he remembered what it was when he felt whole but it was more a memory than anything.
He called Charlie even less than before, and made sure his brother wouldn't also be visiting when Don came home for a weekend. It demanded a new kind of discipline, but Don was good at that. He only had to put his mind to something to achieve his goal. And it worked. Don was able to look his parents in the eyes again, he felt like he was part of the family once more. He just had to confine Charlie to a box and put said box on the side.
That, too, worked. For a while.
Until Charlie knocked at his door one day. He didn't give any explanation as to what the hell he was doing here. Dad had told Don that Charlie was in Santa Fe for a conference about - whatever Charlie was working on at the time. That had been barely two days ago. But now Charlie was in front of him, all big eyes and quiet determination. Don invited his brother in, neither of them uttering a word. Don wondered if Charlie would explain why he was miles away from his expected location where he was supposed to stay for two more days. But maybe Charlie didn't care about having an obligation; apparently, he had another, more immediate, priority.
Charlie was miserable, but he was also pissed. People had a tendency to regard him as an easygoing man - someone who was like a child in many instances, and who could never really get angry at anything, apart from incorrect equations and outrageous theories. People obviously didn't know Charlie well enough.
The young man looked at Don, head cocked to the side, his lips pressed in a tight line. It was clear he'd wanted to say a lot of things but, now that he was facing his brother, he seemed hesitant. Then, in a move pretty typical of Charlie - who was always uncomfortable with words - he took a step toward Don and, without any regard for the other man's personal space, plastered himself against him, holding on tight. He didn't cry, he didn't scream, he just held Don tight, as if he never intended to let go. Or not before he got the answers that were important enough for him to abandon his beloved numbers.
Years later, looking back to that night, Don knew that this had been a defining moment in their lives. This was the moment when everything should have been ended. For good. Don would gently move Charlie away from him, he would sit him down on the couch and they would talk. Talk about how some things aren't meant to be and how they needed to put a stop to whatever was between them, even though, technically, nothing had really started. But this was it, the end of it all. He would put the brakes on this juggernaut before it even starting moving, in order to prevent the inevitable wreck.
Except that Charlie had other ideas. Because Charlie was a complex mix of insecurities and stubbornness. Because Charlie, for all the childlike vibes he sometimes gave off, was someone who knew what he wanted and knew what to do to get it. And maybe also because he was used to getting his own way, was used to always winning a challenge, and he couldn't accept that the one thing he craved more than any other would escape him just like that, without even the slightest possibility of fighting for it. 'Solving the unsolvable' was pretty much his motto even then; it was how he lived his life. This thing between them might be the epitome of the unsolvable equation, but for the fact that Charlie knew how to solve it - and he had every intention of showing it to Don.
So when Don started moving him, Charlie downright refused to be manhandled. He still didn't make a scene; he seemed to be very aware that he needed to put his maturity to the fore or else he risked losing Don before he even started his plea. So, very quietly, he started to tell his brother everything he'd kept to himself for the past couple of years. Every little hurt, every little gleam of hope, he bared himself to his brother, trying to prove to Don that they would be good for one another despite the circumstances, that together they were, indeed, stronger. Charlie, who was one of the worst spellers you could find, all but spelled out to Don why a relationship between them could work and why, even though it might be hard, it was the only solution, because they would be miserable apart.
And because keeping your resolutions isn't always the best thing to do, Don had caved in. He'd stopped the flow of words with a kiss and closed his eyes in ecstasy because he was touching his brother that way. He'd dreamed of that first touch for what seemed an eternity; he'd imagined the feeling of Charlie's breath against his, the texture of his lips. He'd thought he'd known what sounds Charlie would make, how tight he would hold Don in return, but nothing compared to the reality of it.
Their first kiss was earth-shattering. Neither of them were virgin and they both knew what they were doing but, even having all the experience in the world - which neither man claimed - didn't mean anything when they gave in to that first touch, when Don's lips connected with Charlie's for the first time, when his tongue met his brother's almost shyly at first, then with more assurance and finally with a need he'd kept bottled for too long. Charlie opened to him and he was as frantic as Don now was - he was whimpering and gripping Don's shoulder, as if to make sure the other man wouldn't suddenly turn his back on him. Don was chanting Charlie's name, finally giving in to his desire to possess his brother. After sharing him with the world, he could finally make him his; it was igniting a fire in Don that he feared he wouldn't be able to stop. But Charlie was encouraging him, practically trying to crawl into him, clinging to him, and Don knew he couldn't deny either of them.
Don had a fleeting thought that maybe they should slow down and take it to his bedroom, but then shrugged if off, and all but forgot about this resurgence of rationality. He was making out with his own brother, in his living room, and clearly sanity had left them both as soon as Charlie had entered the apartment. So he just let go; he pushed Charlie's back almost roughly against the wall and, kissing him again, fumbled with both their flies in the hope that they could have some skin on skin contact before either of them came messily in their fucking pants. But Charlie was too far gone and didn't want to wait, didn't seem willing to risk losing even a second of this; he started madly thrusting against Don.
Don moaned at the friction and he abandoned his attempt at making it easier for them. He put Charlie's hands over his head, his own hands tightly wrapped around the wrists, and pushed against his brother roughly, picking up an even harsher rhythm.
It couldn't last and both men came, though neither of them could say who had gone over the edge first. Don breathed hard against Charlie's neck, too spent to leave him and too numb to move anyway. He couldn't believe they'd finally done it.
He finally took a step back with a groan and, seeing Charlie's face, couldn't resist kissing him again, gently this time, running his hands through the soft curls. He wondered if he looked the way his brother did - face flushed, lips moist and swollen, glassy eyes and a debauched air which made his brother even sexier. From Charlie's own hungry look as the younger man looked back at Don, he guessed he did.
Don remembered that night vividly; you never forget your first time and, though it wasn't a first time as such, it sure was with Charlie and it made all the difference. Just thinking of it made Don tingle all over. That was a powerful night to remember. Maybe not as emotional as the first time he'd fucked Charlie some time later - those seconds when you realize you're inside your lover's body for the first time are some of the most intimate moments of a human being - but it had been powerful in its own right.
In a fairy tale, that night would have given way to a happy ending where they lived happily ever after. Except they lived in the real world, not a make believe one, and things had been far from easy. As for happy... well yes, it had been happy for a long time, but after a while it all crumbled.
For a long time, they kept meeting as much as they could; their relationship was anything but conventional, but it worked for them. They never talked about forever. Maybe because they feared saying the words would make it all disappear. Maybe because, as much as they wanted it, they didn't know whether they were supposed to have forever. They were stronger together, Charlie had been right, but there was a vulnerability to their pairing that they never really addressed. Not before it was too late.
Well, not too late because, years afterward, Don and Charlie would find their way to each other again, but they had made mistakes, for which they'd paid for in full.
Don wished he could have put the blame for their breakup on the pressure of their relationship due to their being brothers. Sure, there was some truth in that, but the core of the matter was that they had let it happen. They'd each closed off from the other. They had forgotten to talk. Considering that, yes, being in such a relationship demanded - at the very least - an extra dose of communication, they'd been responsible.
Don had let his work get in the way. Some of the things he saw were not only ugly, but sometimes hit a little too close to home. Cases where brothers were found guilty of raping their siblings always left a very bad taste in his mouth. He knew it was irrational, of course, knew that what he and Charlie had was nothing like that, but it was sometimes difficult to distance himself from it all, especially when all he heard all day were fellow agents talking about how disgusting the whole thing was, how depraved and sick you had to be to engaged in that kind of behavior - not even just the rape in itself, but the whole sibling dimension. He should have talked to Charlie, of course, but - Don being Don - he hadn't. And though Charlie had asked at first, when answers were never forthcoming, he finally gave up. And that was that.
Charlie got lost in his numbers and didn't make any real effort to emerge. Their differences, which Don had learned so long ago to accept and live with, were once again becoming the huge wall that had separated them in their childhood. It was like they'd lost track of each other and they couldn't find their way back again.
Even now, Don was hard pressed to explain the true reasons behind their breakup. It was a series of things that, put together, had been too much for them. It wasn't that they ever stopped loving each other, either as brothers or partners, but that they couldn't maintain that particular part of their relationship. Both knew that they could still count on the other should something happen, but they stopped seeing each other, stopped talking to each other... they effectively cut each other out of their lives.
They went back to living their own separate lives, without the slightest chance of their respective worlds ever meeting.
It had lasted five years. Five years of thinking that they'd lost their chance. Don had dated again, had even thought that a life without Charlie was possible when he'd met Kim, but a phone call from his dad had put a stop to that new life.
He'd left Albuquerque far behind. By then, nothing was further from Don's mind than seeing whether there was anything left of his relationship with Charlie; he didn't even wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could salvage some small piece of it. He'd focused all of his energy on helping his parents; he'd taken care of pretty much everything, not exactly becoming the head of the family, but taking on some responsibilities that usually fell on his father's shoulders. His dad had done his best not to forget about either of his sons, but he'd had his own grief to cope with.
When Margaret died, it was as if a part of themselves had died with her.
Instead of letting his grief get the better of him, Don had put it to the side. He needed to be there for their dad, but also for Charlie who, more than ever, had seemed completely lost, as if he didn't understand this world anymore. It'd taken some time for the three of them to finally resume their lives where it'd stopped when Margaret had fallen ill, but slowly, step by step, they'd started smiling again, and they'd gone back to their lives.
After a while, Don and Charlie started to get to know each other again; they could talk about mutual courtship as they both tried to find the missing pieces of their past relationship. They'd lost something precious, but it was clear both men wanted it back.
They'd started slow. Don would visit their dad's more often. He would spend a lot of time there, not doing anything special, but just being with his brother. It also made their dad happy because he got to see both his sons a lot more. Don was learning both his father and his brother all over again. Maybe they were all finding each other.
Ironically enough, the big breakthrough, their second defining moment, had been after Kim had reappeared in his life, when Charlie had learned of what he'd almost lost for good. Don had known it would take some time for Charlie to accept what part Kim had played in his life, but Charlie processed things quickly; it was one of his strengths. After spending the night together - talking - they'd felt as if they were ready to start anew.
When they shared their first kiss after so many years apart, it was - intense. It was not just desperate like the very first one; it was also full of longing, of hope, of begging and receiving forgiveness. They'd both changed; they were older, more mature. They'd learned from their mistakes and they were so much more aware of everything that was at stake. They kissed for a long time, getting reacquainted with the taste and feel of the other, but if Don was honest with himself, he'd never forgotten anything. It was, indeed, as if they'd never lost that intimacy between them.
Don wasn't a fool and, this time, he was determined that they would make it work. He wasn't delusional enough to think it would be easy, but they'd already walked that road and they knew the bumps and potholes they needed to avoid. They couldn't blame ignorance this time and Don was tired of not feeling whole, the way he had when he and Charlie had been truly together. And, everything considered, it also gave them a certain sense of normalcy. They were a couple like any other couple; they had the same problems, they could make the same mistakes. But even more important than that, they had the same chance at happiness as everyone else; they just needed to grab it and never let it go again...
Fin
PS:alinewrites and french_hobbit? I received your cards, thank you! *kisses*
Anyway,
starwatcher307 gave me back my Numb3rs fic today - thank you again for the precious help :-) - so I'm just passing to post the story. I'm writing another Don/Charlie - well, not today that is - which is all about the domesticity and the smut so I feel like I can post a little angst without feeling too guilty about it. So. The fic.
Title: Second Chance
Pairing: Don/Charlie [Incest]
Rating: PG-13. Or say between PG-13 and R.
Word Count: around 4240
Spoilers: Mention of "Counterfeit Reality"
'One part exuberance, two parts obsession', that's how Kim had described him, according to what Charlie had said that night. It was how she'd described them both. Unlike Charlie, though, who'd been surprised to finally meet someone who could zero in on their similarities instead of being distracted by their differences, Don had only smiled at the description; Kim had always been quite observant. And Don couldn't deny how accurate her assessment was. Nor could Charlie, who had absolutely no intention of forgetting or denying it. He was only too happy to have found someone who thought he had points in common with his brother.
They both had obsessive personalities, that much was clear. People sometimes thought it was more obvious with Charlie, but anyone who knew Don, either professionally or personally, knew that obsession ran in the family.
It translated differently, though. He and Charlie had lived in different worlds most of their lives - still did, though now their worlds collided on an almost daily basis - and not just in bed, where things were easier somehow, but outside as well. Inside the bedroom, they knew each other by heart, knew how the other reacted to their touches, to their kisses; they both moved as one, they finally spoke the same language, both men understanding each other perfectly. But outside, things were still complex. Not that they weren't pleasurable as well, but he and his brother still thought differently, viewed the world differently. Yes, they had a lot of similarities, but they ran in different directions.
It had always been like that. Charlie lived in a world of his own. In effect, Charlie spoke his own language. Don often used that line to diffuse situations where people suddenly got aggressive because they couldn't understand what Charlie was talking about, but in truth, it was exactly that. Charlie had his own language. He was forced to translate a lot when he interacted with people, but that's how it worked in his head. A more important aspect about his brother was that Charlie followed his numbers. Their father's words had been spot on; that was a perfect way of describing Charlie. 'He always tries to solve the unsolvable', was another. That was Charlie, always trying to go further, to see further; there was no doubt that he needed to see the big picture. Charlie refused to just stop at the surface - or maybe he couldn't. Unable to stop at the line like everyone else did, his mind forbade him from following - or even accepting - the rules that you were supposed to submit to.
Charlie lived in chaos most of the time; that was something else Don had finally understood one day. It was the reason why Charlie always seemed distracted, why he was always working on something, why he was always seen writing on a scrap of paper, or with a piece of chalk in his hand, scribbling on his beloved blackboard; Charlie's mind was a miasma of numbers, thoughts, theorems, equations, old theories, new theories, unborn theories. They never let him in peace, and he needed to give them life, to finally put a semblance of order in what was essentially a world of chaos. Of course, he reveled in it and, as time passed - as he got older - he'd learned how to control them enough to use his numbers as much as they seemed to use him. But it was clear that Charlie was always more an observer in this world than a participant.
Don knew it was unfair to think that way about his brother, and it wasn't completely accurate either, but there was more truth in the statement that anyone cared to admit. Don had accepted that particular part of his brother early on. Not without tears - figuratively speaking - but he'd had to make his peace with the knowledge that his brother was unique. Not just because, as his parents always taught him, everyone is unique anyway, but because Charlie was outside the norm and Charlie was different, period.
There had been times in his life when 'accepting their differences' had meant 'acknowledging them' more than really accepting them. He hadn't wanted people to think of him as the genius' big brother, but he'd had to make do with that particular status. He'd fluctuated between starting fights with anyone who dared hurt Charlie with their words, or silently cheering as other kids said out loud what he couldn't ever say himself. But, fortunately, the resentment hadn't lasted long. There's only so much vindictiveness a kid, even a teenager, can feel toward his brother for things he isn't truly responsible for. Although thinking back to those times usually made Don cringe a little, it had been part of his life and he couldn't ignore it. He was just grateful he hadn't followed that route too long.
One day, he had caught a glimpse of the man he wanted to be. From that point on, he'd decided that it didn't matter that his IQ wouldn't ever amount to Charlie's, it didn't matter how many times in the past his little brother had - against Don's wishes - done his homework and made him feel inadequate more than grateful. None of these things mattered, because Don realized that he had his own life to live and that being in the shadow of a younger sibling wasn't a life sentence. He just had to accept, truly accept, that he and Charlie were different, and that it wasn't the end of the world.
Ironically enough, and only after Don viewed things under a different light, could he see how similar he and his brother were. And that was also when things got complicated.
Charlie, who he’d often seen as a sort of alien until then, suddenly became a complex human being who he knew loved him unconditionally, someone he could talk to about everything without judgement, someone he could share his secrets with, knowing he wouldn't be betrayed. And as Charlie turned from child to teenager to young man, he also became quite an attractive human being.
Came the day when Charlie wasn't a child anymore, though even as a teenager there were some childlike traits in him, both physical and emotional, that Don suspected would never really leave his brother. Charlie was growing up, he was discovering the world - as much as he could - and it was clear he was also discovering himself. And Charlie changed. Or maybe it was Don who changed. Or both. Don didn't know. All he knew was that each time they met after a long absence - as often happened with their respective lives in different states - there was this thing between them, some unnamed thing that felt so powerful and so frightening. He didn't know what it was, except for the fact that it was both arousing and disturbing.
Don never wanted it to happen. To be honest, he hadn't even known it could happen, or not to him at any rate. But life had its own agenda and one day, alone in his room, he had to accept the truth. He was attracted to his own brother. Even scarier yet, Charlie seemed to feel the same way.
At that moment, things became even more complicated, because Don was a man of passion. Even then, in his mid-twenties, he always reached for what he wanted, never gave up until he'd tried a multitude of different solutions, until he knew without the shadow of a doubt that defeat was the only outcome. But suddenly what Don wanted, he couldn't obtain. Or maybe he couldn't allow himself to. He couldn't go for what he needed, couldn't cave in to the temptation. And it hurt. But Don was an honorable man, and he had very clear lines he'd always told himself he'd never cross. This 'thing' between him and his brother was definitely an uncrossable line.
He wouldn't risk ruining everything just because he had inappropriate thoughts for his own blood, although each time he saw Charlie he wanted more than anything to touch him, run his hands through those curls, hear Charlie moan his name. He couldn't break every rule in the book just because, in his dreams, he knew the sounds Charlie made when he being made love to, knew how tight Charlie felt around him or because Don knew, deep in his heart, how good they would be together.
For a while, Don couldn't even meet his parents' eyes. It was becoming too much for him to withstand. So he did what he thought was best for everyone; he put even more distance between him and his brother. Not just physically, but emotionally, too.
He went to Quantico, and it gave him the best opportunity to finally try and put everything behind him. He buried himself in his new studies. Then, when his career took off, he moved to Albuquerque and lived for his work. He tried to convince himself that he'd never really felt anything for Charlie, and that Charlie himself had been confused, that he'd mistaken his hero-worship for... something that wasn't real. And it worked. It still hurt but, as time passed, it became easier. It was more like a phantom pain - he remembered what it was when he felt whole but it was more a memory than anything.
He called Charlie even less than before, and made sure his brother wouldn't also be visiting when Don came home for a weekend. It demanded a new kind of discipline, but Don was good at that. He only had to put his mind to something to achieve his goal. And it worked. Don was able to look his parents in the eyes again, he felt like he was part of the family once more. He just had to confine Charlie to a box and put said box on the side.
That, too, worked. For a while.
Until Charlie knocked at his door one day. He didn't give any explanation as to what the hell he was doing here. Dad had told Don that Charlie was in Santa Fe for a conference about - whatever Charlie was working on at the time. That had been barely two days ago. But now Charlie was in front of him, all big eyes and quiet determination. Don invited his brother in, neither of them uttering a word. Don wondered if Charlie would explain why he was miles away from his expected location where he was supposed to stay for two more days. But maybe Charlie didn't care about having an obligation; apparently, he had another, more immediate, priority.
Charlie was miserable, but he was also pissed. People had a tendency to regard him as an easygoing man - someone who was like a child in many instances, and who could never really get angry at anything, apart from incorrect equations and outrageous theories. People obviously didn't know Charlie well enough.
The young man looked at Don, head cocked to the side, his lips pressed in a tight line. It was clear he'd wanted to say a lot of things but, now that he was facing his brother, he seemed hesitant. Then, in a move pretty typical of Charlie - who was always uncomfortable with words - he took a step toward Don and, without any regard for the other man's personal space, plastered himself against him, holding on tight. He didn't cry, he didn't scream, he just held Don tight, as if he never intended to let go. Or not before he got the answers that were important enough for him to abandon his beloved numbers.
Years later, looking back to that night, Don knew that this had been a defining moment in their lives. This was the moment when everything should have been ended. For good. Don would gently move Charlie away from him, he would sit him down on the couch and they would talk. Talk about how some things aren't meant to be and how they needed to put a stop to whatever was between them, even though, technically, nothing had really started. But this was it, the end of it all. He would put the brakes on this juggernaut before it even starting moving, in order to prevent the inevitable wreck.
Except that Charlie had other ideas. Because Charlie was a complex mix of insecurities and stubbornness. Because Charlie, for all the childlike vibes he sometimes gave off, was someone who knew what he wanted and knew what to do to get it. And maybe also because he was used to getting his own way, was used to always winning a challenge, and he couldn't accept that the one thing he craved more than any other would escape him just like that, without even the slightest possibility of fighting for it. 'Solving the unsolvable' was pretty much his motto even then; it was how he lived his life. This thing between them might be the epitome of the unsolvable equation, but for the fact that Charlie knew how to solve it - and he had every intention of showing it to Don.
So when Don started moving him, Charlie downright refused to be manhandled. He still didn't make a scene; he seemed to be very aware that he needed to put his maturity to the fore or else he risked losing Don before he even started his plea. So, very quietly, he started to tell his brother everything he'd kept to himself for the past couple of years. Every little hurt, every little gleam of hope, he bared himself to his brother, trying to prove to Don that they would be good for one another despite the circumstances, that together they were, indeed, stronger. Charlie, who was one of the worst spellers you could find, all but spelled out to Don why a relationship between them could work and why, even though it might be hard, it was the only solution, because they would be miserable apart.
And because keeping your resolutions isn't always the best thing to do, Don had caved in. He'd stopped the flow of words with a kiss and closed his eyes in ecstasy because he was touching his brother that way. He'd dreamed of that first touch for what seemed an eternity; he'd imagined the feeling of Charlie's breath against his, the texture of his lips. He'd thought he'd known what sounds Charlie would make, how tight he would hold Don in return, but nothing compared to the reality of it.
Their first kiss was earth-shattering. Neither of them were virgin and they both knew what they were doing but, even having all the experience in the world - which neither man claimed - didn't mean anything when they gave in to that first touch, when Don's lips connected with Charlie's for the first time, when his tongue met his brother's almost shyly at first, then with more assurance and finally with a need he'd kept bottled for too long. Charlie opened to him and he was as frantic as Don now was - he was whimpering and gripping Don's shoulder, as if to make sure the other man wouldn't suddenly turn his back on him. Don was chanting Charlie's name, finally giving in to his desire to possess his brother. After sharing him with the world, he could finally make him his; it was igniting a fire in Don that he feared he wouldn't be able to stop. But Charlie was encouraging him, practically trying to crawl into him, clinging to him, and Don knew he couldn't deny either of them.
Don had a fleeting thought that maybe they should slow down and take it to his bedroom, but then shrugged if off, and all but forgot about this resurgence of rationality. He was making out with his own brother, in his living room, and clearly sanity had left them both as soon as Charlie had entered the apartment. So he just let go; he pushed Charlie's back almost roughly against the wall and, kissing him again, fumbled with both their flies in the hope that they could have some skin on skin contact before either of them came messily in their fucking pants. But Charlie was too far gone and didn't want to wait, didn't seem willing to risk losing even a second of this; he started madly thrusting against Don.
Don moaned at the friction and he abandoned his attempt at making it easier for them. He put Charlie's hands over his head, his own hands tightly wrapped around the wrists, and pushed against his brother roughly, picking up an even harsher rhythm.
It couldn't last and both men came, though neither of them could say who had gone over the edge first. Don breathed hard against Charlie's neck, too spent to leave him and too numb to move anyway. He couldn't believe they'd finally done it.
He finally took a step back with a groan and, seeing Charlie's face, couldn't resist kissing him again, gently this time, running his hands through the soft curls. He wondered if he looked the way his brother did - face flushed, lips moist and swollen, glassy eyes and a debauched air which made his brother even sexier. From Charlie's own hungry look as the younger man looked back at Don, he guessed he did.
Don remembered that night vividly; you never forget your first time and, though it wasn't a first time as such, it sure was with Charlie and it made all the difference. Just thinking of it made Don tingle all over. That was a powerful night to remember. Maybe not as emotional as the first time he'd fucked Charlie some time later - those seconds when you realize you're inside your lover's body for the first time are some of the most intimate moments of a human being - but it had been powerful in its own right.
In a fairy tale, that night would have given way to a happy ending where they lived happily ever after. Except they lived in the real world, not a make believe one, and things had been far from easy. As for happy... well yes, it had been happy for a long time, but after a while it all crumbled.
For a long time, they kept meeting as much as they could; their relationship was anything but conventional, but it worked for them. They never talked about forever. Maybe because they feared saying the words would make it all disappear. Maybe because, as much as they wanted it, they didn't know whether they were supposed to have forever. They were stronger together, Charlie had been right, but there was a vulnerability to their pairing that they never really addressed. Not before it was too late.
Well, not too late because, years afterward, Don and Charlie would find their way to each other again, but they had made mistakes, for which they'd paid for in full.
Don wished he could have put the blame for their breakup on the pressure of their relationship due to their being brothers. Sure, there was some truth in that, but the core of the matter was that they had let it happen. They'd each closed off from the other. They had forgotten to talk. Considering that, yes, being in such a relationship demanded - at the very least - an extra dose of communication, they'd been responsible.
Don had let his work get in the way. Some of the things he saw were not only ugly, but sometimes hit a little too close to home. Cases where brothers were found guilty of raping their siblings always left a very bad taste in his mouth. He knew it was irrational, of course, knew that what he and Charlie had was nothing like that, but it was sometimes difficult to distance himself from it all, especially when all he heard all day were fellow agents talking about how disgusting the whole thing was, how depraved and sick you had to be to engaged in that kind of behavior - not even just the rape in itself, but the whole sibling dimension. He should have talked to Charlie, of course, but - Don being Don - he hadn't. And though Charlie had asked at first, when answers were never forthcoming, he finally gave up. And that was that.
Charlie got lost in his numbers and didn't make any real effort to emerge. Their differences, which Don had learned so long ago to accept and live with, were once again becoming the huge wall that had separated them in their childhood. It was like they'd lost track of each other and they couldn't find their way back again.
Even now, Don was hard pressed to explain the true reasons behind their breakup. It was a series of things that, put together, had been too much for them. It wasn't that they ever stopped loving each other, either as brothers or partners, but that they couldn't maintain that particular part of their relationship. Both knew that they could still count on the other should something happen, but they stopped seeing each other, stopped talking to each other... they effectively cut each other out of their lives.
They went back to living their own separate lives, without the slightest chance of their respective worlds ever meeting.
It had lasted five years. Five years of thinking that they'd lost their chance. Don had dated again, had even thought that a life without Charlie was possible when he'd met Kim, but a phone call from his dad had put a stop to that new life.
He'd left Albuquerque far behind. By then, nothing was further from Don's mind than seeing whether there was anything left of his relationship with Charlie; he didn't even wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could salvage some small piece of it. He'd focused all of his energy on helping his parents; he'd taken care of pretty much everything, not exactly becoming the head of the family, but taking on some responsibilities that usually fell on his father's shoulders. His dad had done his best not to forget about either of his sons, but he'd had his own grief to cope with.
When Margaret died, it was as if a part of themselves had died with her.
Instead of letting his grief get the better of him, Don had put it to the side. He needed to be there for their dad, but also for Charlie who, more than ever, had seemed completely lost, as if he didn't understand this world anymore. It'd taken some time for the three of them to finally resume their lives where it'd stopped when Margaret had fallen ill, but slowly, step by step, they'd started smiling again, and they'd gone back to their lives.
After a while, Don and Charlie started to get to know each other again; they could talk about mutual courtship as they both tried to find the missing pieces of their past relationship. They'd lost something precious, but it was clear both men wanted it back.
They'd started slow. Don would visit their dad's more often. He would spend a lot of time there, not doing anything special, but just being with his brother. It also made their dad happy because he got to see both his sons a lot more. Don was learning both his father and his brother all over again. Maybe they were all finding each other.
Ironically enough, the big breakthrough, their second defining moment, had been after Kim had reappeared in his life, when Charlie had learned of what he'd almost lost for good. Don had known it would take some time for Charlie to accept what part Kim had played in his life, but Charlie processed things quickly; it was one of his strengths. After spending the night together - talking - they'd felt as if they were ready to start anew.
When they shared their first kiss after so many years apart, it was - intense. It was not just desperate like the very first one; it was also full of longing, of hope, of begging and receiving forgiveness. They'd both changed; they were older, more mature. They'd learned from their mistakes and they were so much more aware of everything that was at stake. They kissed for a long time, getting reacquainted with the taste and feel of the other, but if Don was honest with himself, he'd never forgotten anything. It was, indeed, as if they'd never lost that intimacy between them.
Don wasn't a fool and, this time, he was determined that they would make it work. He wasn't delusional enough to think it would be easy, but they'd already walked that road and they knew the bumps and potholes they needed to avoid. They couldn't blame ignorance this time and Don was tired of not feeling whole, the way he had when he and Charlie had been truly together. And, everything considered, it also gave them a certain sense of normalcy. They were a couple like any other couple; they had the same problems, they could make the same mistakes. But even more important than that, they had the same chance at happiness as everyone else; they just needed to grab it and never let it go again...
Fin
PS:
alinewrites and french_hobbit? I received your cards, thank you! *kisses*
