Charles by Con Riley

16

They started the minute they got back inside the stables.

Charles stuck to kissing instead of getting naked. Now he knew more, taking it slower seemed better. He wondered if the living room might be better than the bedroom, less chance of Hugo overthinking without a bedside table stacked with religious workbooks beside him. He cleared the sofa instead. “Make yourself comfortable.” He patted a cushion. “And tilt your head back.”

“Pretty sure my dentist said the same thing on my last check-up.”

“Oh!” Charles grinned. “Role play. Brilliant. Wasn’t going to get to that for a while, but I’m game if you are.” He clapped his hands. “Right. Let me just get my gloves on.”

“Gloves?” Hugo said, settling onto the couch, but not yet lying down as Charles had directed.

“Of course. Imagine I’m putting on some latex blue ones. Gloving up is important.” He flexed his fingers. “For hygiene.” He looked around for inspiration. “Okay. It’s a bit hard to get into character without a white coat, so I’ll have to improvise.” He grabbed Hugo’s jacket from the coat stand. It swamped his narrower shoulders, but he made the best of it, rolling up the sleeves and then digging through its bulging pockets. “Ugh.”

“I did warn you about the snotty hankies.”

“No, it’s worse.” Charles drew out the compass with disgust and lobbed it onto the table. He dug again, rooting around. “Ah ha!” He brandished a child-sized magnifying glass he’d found. He tapped the arm of the sofa. “Head back, Mr Eavis. Open wide. I need to inspect your molars.”

Hugo laughed again, a sound Charles couldn’t get enough of. He laughed too, the sound bubbling over, hard to stop once it started. “What are you laughing for?” he asked between chuckles. “Role play is a serious business.”

“I thought we were starting with kissing?”

“Ugh.” Charles pulled off his imaginary gloves, sighing. “If you insist.”

“You’re very good at getting into character and acting stroppy,” Hugo said, settling back where Charles had indicated, his head against the arm of sofa.

“That’s because I’ve got George as a role model.” Charles propped Hugo’s knee with some cushions and then knelt on the floor beside him. “He makes being an earl-in-waiting seem like a cross to bear.”

From where he knelt, he could only see the unscarred side of Hugo’s face.

It was like seeing a stranger.

He tilted Hugo’s head towards him. “That’s better,” he said. “Now, we’re starting slow, okay. I know it’s a challenge, but try to hold yourself back.” He leaned in and just as sharply leant back. “What’s that look for?”

“You just said, ‘That’s better.’” Hugo touched his cheek. “Why?”

“Because it is. It’s how I see you. Turns out I quite like looking at this mantelpiece and poking the fire.”

Hugo’s grin was beautiful. Almost symmetrical. Perfect.

“Stop it, Charles. You’re going to make me laugh.”

“I should hope so.”

“I thought… I don’t…” Hugo studied him, seeming to search for something, before saying, “Are you quite sure you’re a sexual expert?”

Charles laughed again, which set Hugo off, and that somehow seemed the perfect way to start his re-education. Charles knelt up, smiling. “Ready?”

Hugo nodded. “I do need to move on,” he said, tone a touch more serious. “This feels”—he wrapped a hand around the nape of his neck to pull Charles closer—“too right to waste time overthinking. Too perfectly timed not to be….”

Meant to be?

It certainly felt right, Charles thought as their lips met again, familiar now, their tongues also meeting without hesitation, slick and so good, sliding together. Hugo lifted his head as though asking for more, but Charles drew back a fraction, slowing his pace until Hugo lay back again, taking what he was given.

And no more, Charles thought. Not yet.

But even though they’d already got off once, kissing like this was barely enough, want fast escalating. For Hugo as well, Charles realised as he felt his fingers thread through his hair, clutching to pull Charles closer. He also felt Hugo’s other hand find his shoulder, tugging, seeming to want Charles on top of him.

Charles broke off, gasping, about to say, “Slow. Remember?” but the need in Hugo’s eyes stopped him. Left him slow to react as Hugo levered himself up and off the sofa, Charles somehow finding himself flat on his back on the floor with Hugo above him again.

“Your knee,” he said, echoing what he’d first said in the bedroom, this turning into an action replay Charles was one-hundred per cent into.

“Still not taking any weight on it,” Hugo said, and then stopped talking, too busy kissing again, this time with an intense focus Charles could only just keep up with.

This isn’t slow.

He found the warm skin of Hugo’s back, his T-shirt rucked to expose it, muscles flexing under his fingers as Hugo rocked against him.

This is fucking amazing.

“You are,” Hugo murmured, his mouth that attractive plush pink of first thing that morning. Then it sank out of view, connecting with his jaw, his throat, Hugo’s breath gusting next across his ear, which turned his insides to liquid. Charles squirmed as Hugo found his mouth again, their bodies connecting, and Charles wrapped his legs around him.

Why hold back when Hugo was showing him he was ready?

He slid his hands under the waistband of Hugo’s boxers, clasping him even closer.

Hugo gasped into his mouth, then kissed him so much deeper, wet and rough and—

A knock at the door stilled them.

“Who is it?” Charles whispered, his chest heaving.

“No idea,” Hugo said, his pupils huge and his face pink. “Ignore it.” He dropped to kiss Charles some more.

When was the last time he’d done this, Charles wondered? Rolled on the floor with someone he needed to kiss more than breathing? “It’s like being a teen again,” Charles whispered, panting. “You’re full of teen spirit.”

“As long as I don’t smell like it.” Hugo grinned down at him, and Charles flooded with something that made him arch up so their lips reconnected, hard to manage while they were both smiling.

A sharper volley of knocks split them.

“They’re not giving up,” Charles hissed. “Are you meant to be somewhere?”

“No. I’m not on the weekend rota until after lunch.” Hugo glanced at his watch. “It’s not even ten yet.” He levered himself up onto the sofa, the opening in his boxers offering Charles a glimpse of his erect cock, a sight that almost made him whimper—made him want to whip it out and suck it. He shoved a cushion over Hugo’s lap instead, then grabbed a book. “Take this,” he whispered. “Act natural. I’ll get rid of whoever’s at the door.”

Um…” Hugo looked down, so Charles did too. “Shit.” His own underwear tented. He buttoned Hugo’s jacket and opened the door to find Luke outside, his hand raised. “Oh. Sorry to keep you, Headmaster.”

Luke spotted Hugo over his shoulder, his book propped open on the cushion. “Hugo. I heard you laughing from outside. You look much better,” he said, sounding delighted. “Good to see you with some colour in your cheeks.”

He next spoke to Charles, sotto voce. “Excellent work on cheering him up. Keep it up.” Then he added, “Heard wonderful reports about you from Ruth. Good to find you’re still here. Was a bit worried when you didn’t answer the door that you might have changed your mind about staying.”

“Change my mind? Nope. I was just—” His mind went blank. “I was busy making breakfast.”

“In Hugo’s jacket?”

“Er. I couldn’t find an apron. Anyway, I didn’t hear you all the way from the kitchen.”

Luke’s brow arched. “All the way from that kitchen right there?” he asked, pointing to the open doorway only a few paces distant. Then his gaze switched to Hugo. Something must have caught his eye. Luke covered his mouth with his hand for a moment, masking what Charles thought might be a smile before he spoke directly to Hugo.

“I came over to let you know that you’re off the hook for being on call this afternoon. I’m taking all of the boarders out on the tors with Mark and Finn. Get a bit of map-reading practice in with them before the weather changes. I’ll catch up with you later, Hugo.”

His attention swung to Charles again. “We’ve kept you busy for a few weeks now. Have you had a chance to look around the whole school yet?”

Charles shook his head. His focus had pretty much stayed on the pre-prep classrooms.

Luke passed him a key. “Take the chance to have proper look around the rest of the school while it’s empty, but also make sure to get out too.”

“Out?”

“Yes. It’s easy to get stuck in a rut of the school being your whole world.” That sounded heartfelt. “Get right away from the school. Maybe with each other,” he said before he added, “Oh, and Hugo?”

And yes, that was definitely a smile he’d hidden.

“I’ve heard it’s a good book”—he gestured at the bible Hugo held over his lap—“but you might get through it faster if you turn it up the right way.”