HAPPY PLACE
~
Fisher Beach House

Charlie woke up to a warm weight on him the next morning and he should've known it would come to this because he knew Conrad was a clingy sleeper whenever they ended up sharing a bed. It didn't happen all the time, but when it did, Charlie could count on Conrad to sleep on him like he was a koala and Charlie a tree. Of course, Charlie didn't mind, he just held him close until their eyes met and his vision was no longer blurry with sleep.

    It was simple. To be here, in this house, with him, and without a care in the world. Even if Conrad was hungover as shit. Maybe it was how Charlie was raised, but it was easy to care about him. Easy to fall for him. And there it was.

     The thing that Charlie was doing his best to keep at bay, but it constantly made its way to the surface like a buoy that couldn't be held down under the water. He argued with himself countless times that what he was feeling was just plain ol' platonic affection, that that was just how he was. But he knew it wasn't that. He didn't care for his other friends the way he did for Conrad, the bond he shared with him was a little bit more intricate and intimate.

     So here he was, watching Conrad's head rise and fall in sync with his chest, his heartbeat burrowed somewhere beneath it, all the while aimlessly drawing shapes atop his shirt.

     The movement must've woken Conrad up because he was starting to stir, grumbling nonsense as he blearily opened his eyes, coming almost face to face with Charlie—almost being the operative word since half of Conrad's face was smushed into Charlie's shirt. It was the red one he liked, a sort of burnt mahogany that complimented Charlie well. Conrad pinched the fabric between his fingers, absent-mindedly fiddling with the shirt, somewhere deep down planning to steal it before they went home for the school season.

     "Nice to see you finally up," Charlie greeted him cheekily, "I was worried you had accidentally drunk yourself to death."

     "I didn't, but it sure feels like it," Conrad mumbled, already feeling a searing headache coming on as he attempted to sit up. "Nope, fuck, never mind." He lay back down, hiding himself in the crook of Charlie's neck, his nose just barely touching his Adam's apple, and he didn't know how to explain it.

     There was just something so comforting about how he could fall so easily into Charlie. Should he have been this comfortable with another boy in his bed? Or in his life in general? So intimately woven the way they were without any seemingly romantic undertones? Of course, Conrad knew how close they came to be over the years, attached at the hip and whatnot.

     But he wasn't sure if best friends slept flush against the other, wrapped around as if there was nothing more natural to it, being in and sharing the same space. Then again, he did think about stealing Charlie's shirt before leaving.

     "All right, up you get," Charlie said, patting Conrad's lower back, "we gotta get something in you so you don't end up feeling like you're on the brink of death."

     "Five more minutes," Conrad had the nerve to grumble despite the head-splitting realization, pun intended.

     "Five more minutes and you might not wake up again and I can't have that on my conscience. Up. Now."

     After some futile and half-baked protests, Conrad finally found it in him to get up, albeit rather slowly or else the room would start spinning. "Happy?"

     "I'll cut you a deal: you make it all the way downstairs by yourself, you can lie on the couch while Jeremiah makes you a hangover smoothie. Sound like a plan?"

     Conrad nodded wordlessly then started the mildly painful trek down the stairs as Charlie was following close behind, making sure he wasn't on the verge of passing out.

    "Well, look who decided to finally wake up," Jeremiah noted from the kitchen, already wielding a spatula as he stood by the stove, probably nursing a poached egg no doubt.

     "I would've been down here a lot earlier if your brother wasn't such a clingy sleeper," Charlie answered as he sat at the island and from the living room, Conrad tiredly threw up a middle finger. "But," Charlie continued, "he does need one of your hangover smoothies so I'm gonna be nice to him."

     Jeremiah saluted Charlie mockingly as he went to the fridge to root around for the ingredients while simultaneously keeping an eye on his egg. "You doing anything this summer?"

    Charlie shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast off a plate before taking a bite. "I might go around and see what I can cross off my bucket list today while Conrad's resting."

    "You're doing the bucket list without him?" Jeremiah asked, faux gasping as if he couldn't believe his ears.

     "No, he's not," Conrad protested meekly from the couch.

     "With you in your current condition, I am," Charlie retorted to Conrad before turning back to Jeremiah. "And besides, I'm sure there's some stuff I can knock out on my own. Probably some of the more boring stuff."

     After a couple of minutes, the smoothie was ready and Charlie was handing it over to Conrad with a gentle touch to his shoulder before sitting on the coffee table, even though Susannah would kill him if she found out. Conrad took it gratefully as he slowly sat up, taking slow sips so he didn't overwhelm himself. "Thanks."

    "Thank Jeremiah," Charlie replied simply, "all I did was ask."

     "Still, you asked. You could've turned on me and left me for dead."

     "I mean, I wouldn't want to leave you high and dry and hungover. What kind of friend would I be?"

     Conrad only shrugged and took another sip of his smoothie. All of a sudden, there was a gasp of surprise as Susannah flurried into the kitchen just as Charlie made a dive for the couch, crashing into Conrad's legs when he did. Conrad was nice enough to try and suppress his laugh, but Charlie flicked him in his calf in retaliation anyway.

     "Don't think that I didn't see you sitting on the coffee table, Charlie," Susannah chided in her sing-song voice, "but Belly is gonna be a debutante. Now I wanna know who is going to be her escort."

     "Not me, I went last year," Conrad was the first to deny the invitation and received another flick to his calf. Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, he raised a middle finger to Charlie's face.

     "You know you could've at least waited a little while longer before landing that big a blow to Belly's ego," Charlie mumbled.

     "She'll be fine."

     All Charlie did was give Conrad a look in return.

AUTHOR'S NOTE  ╱ 061524
woo ! kind of enjoying how lowkey plotless the s1/"happy place" chapters are considering they're kind of like memories instead of actual chapters that drive the story happening in s2 but in that same vein, it shapes how we see conrad slowly falling for charlie

now am i gonna have him screaming crying throwing up over it ? we'll see bc it does seem in character for him hmmm

but thoughts and feelings are always appreciated <33