Page 177 of Love at First Fright

My lovely Charlie. Even completely wrecked beneath me, still a cheeky bastard.

I began to move.

Fucking Charlie whilst locked in his gaze was the most intense experience of my entire existence—more electric than the first time I’d plugged in my guitar and felt power surge through the amplifier, more addictive than the rush of a perfect gig when the crowd sang every word back to us.

His pupils were black mirrors that reflected my face, twisted in desperate concentration. Every thrust sent ripples across those dark surfaces, like stones dropped into still water. I watched him break apart beneath me, watched pleasure rewrite every line of his face, and knew with absolute certainty that I was witnessing something sacred. This moment would be burned into my consciousness forever—the way his lashes fluttered when I hit that perfect angle, the way his lips parted on silent gasps, the way he looked at me like I was salvation instead of someone eternally damned.

Charlie has dissolved into a state of pure bliss, his body singing beneath mine like feedback building to a scream. His head had fallen back against the pillow, throat exposed and marked with my bruise, golden hair spread like a halo around his flushed face. I wrapped my hand around his cock, matching the rhythm of my thrusts, feeling him pulse hot and slick in my palm with each stroke.

“I can’t even describe how good you feel, Charlie. You feel like heaven. Like fucking heaven. I’ve never felt anything like this. Never.”

“Just like that…” Charlie panted, voice shredded to nothing. “Don’t stop… don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t,” I lied, the words scraping out of my throat like gravel. “It can be like this forever.”

Forever. The word triggered something in the deepest depths of my mind, and suddenly I could finally hear it—that last song I’d written for Bat’s Bats, the one we’d never had a chance to record. My voice, young and full of desperate hope, singing over steady drums and that killer bass line:

Nothing lasts forever, that’s what they all say

But I’d trade my soul to make you stay

In this moment, suspended in time

Where your heart beats in rhythm with mine

Forever’s just a word until you find

Someone worth leaving the whole world behind

The melody played in my head as I moved inside Charlie, bittersweet and prophetic in ways I’d never understood when I was alive.

Charlie’s eyes fluttered shut, and immediately I stroked his cheek with my free hand, thumb brushing across his cheekbone until his lashes parted.

“That’s it,” I said, never breaking rhythm. “Keep those lovely eyes on me.”

“Fuck… Bat—”

“I know…” I breathed against his lips. “I know, Charlie.”

I know that nothing will ever be the same again now. I know I’m going to miss you every second of every day. I know that in a parallel universe, you and I are curled up together somewhere, two heartbeats instead of one. I know that twenty-five years from now I’ll still be replaying this moment, and you’ll be growing old with someone you’ve built a life with.

Charlie came with a cry that reverberated off the attic rafters, spilling hot and thick across my fingers, his body clenching around me like a vice.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I wanted to—”

“Shhh.” I silenced him with a kiss, fucking him quicker now, chasing my own release. Charlie’s cries turned breathless, laughing on the edge of overwhelm. He rocked up into each thrust, drawing out more gasps from him, another broken moan. Then unintelligible sounds—half-words and pleas that dissolved into pure sensation.

I spilled deep inside him with a groan that felt torn from the centre of my chest, staying buried as aftershocks racked through both our bodies. Charlie’s legs came up immediately, hooking around my back, locking me against him like he never wanted to let me go.

We stayed frozen like that. I pressed my palm flat against Charlie’s chest, feeling the strong, steady thud of his heartbeat against my fingers—proof of his aliveness, his warmth, everything I’d lost and could never be again. My other hand smoothed through his sweat-dampened hair, memorising the silk of it between my fingers.

My energy was reaching critically low levels, my physical form threatening to dissipate at any moment, but I reached deep into whatever reserves I had left. This was one of the last moments I’d ever get to touch him, and I wasn’t wasting a second of it.

That’s when I noticed the tears tracking down Charlie’s cheeks, catching the grey afternoon light streaming through the attic window.

“Charlie! You’re crying,” I said softly, wiping the moisture away with my thumb.

“I’m not,” Charlie replied, his voice thick and unconvincing.