Chapter Text
Erik gets a text when Charles is two minutes out, and he takes up his position by the front door. One of the many things they’ve learned since The Incident is that Charles doesn’t want to come home to an empty apartment. Erik makes sure he never has to.
When Charles opens the door, Erik smiles at him and leans down for a hug. Charles wraps both arms around his shoulders and presses his face against Erik’s neck. He shows no sign of letting go anytime soon. Erik takes a knee so he can gather Charles closer, strokes his back, and waits.
On average, this greeting usually takes ten to fifteen seconds. Erik calculates that kind of thing. Today, Charles holds onto him for 53 seconds before he finally lets out a long breath and loosens his arms. Erik studies him carefully. “Are you alright?”
Charles nods. “Fine. Just tired. It was a long day.”
“Finals week,” Erik says sympathetically. “You’re almost there.”
“Hmm.” Charles sighs and tilts his face up for a kiss. Erik gives it to him, lingering over the curve of his bottom lip, nibbling a little. He can feel Charles smile against his mouth.
“Anything you need?” Erik asks.
Charles links his hands behind Erik’s neck and gives him a tug. “A ride to the couch?”
Erik raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. He lifts Charles easily, standing with him snug against his chest, and walks into the living room. Charles rests his head on his shoulder and makes a low hum. Erik can feel the faint flicker of his eyelashes where their faces touch, and the warmth of his breath.
Once they’re settled on the couch, Charles tucks himself beneath Erik’s arm and curls into his side. He strokes a hand idly over Erik’s chest and presses a kiss to his jaw. Erik looks down at him. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks. “You don’t usually let me carry you.”
One corner of Charles’ mouth curves up. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Erik. I’ve learned to like it when you do that. It’s funny, because I didn’t think I would - I used to hate it when anyone picked me up.”
“I didn’t know it bothered you.”
“It doesn’t, not when you do it,” Charles replies. “But in the beginning, right after my accident… well. It wasn’t just my spine that was injured, you know. I was pretty thoroughly banged up. Strained muscles, stitches in inconvenient places, three broken ribs and a broken collarbone. I could barely lift my arms, and I certainly couldn’t use them to support myself. Someone had to help me do everything. There was always a nurse or a physical therapist hauling me around, putting me somewhere, deciding where I would sit and when. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom alone.”
Erik nods and rubs Charles’ shoulder, but keeps quiet. He’s aware this is tenuous ground; Charles almost never talks about the accident.
“The worst part was being completely dependent on others,” Charles continues. “Growing up the way I did, after my father died and Mother remarried, the way things were in that house - I knew how important it was to be able to take care of myself. How crucial, because nobody else was going to do it for me. I was so determined to get that independence back I wound up re-injuring myself, pushing too hard before the breaks were fully healed. I was so angry when that happened. I was angry most of the time back then, come to think of it.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Erik says.
Charles gives him a rueful smile. “Oh, believe it. I was not a nice person to be around. Even after I finally got my full upper body strength back, I had to learn how to do everything. How to transfer in and out of the chair, how to safely get out of the shower, how to recover from a fall. Even how to sleep properly so I wouldn’t get pressure sores. Life got so complicated. Things I’d never even had to think about before were suddenly a problem. I was constantly frustrated at my new limitations and I wound up lashing out at everyone about it. There was one time…”
“Yes?” Erik prompts gently.
“I had a fall,” Charles says, shrugging. “Wasn’t uncommon in the early days, when I was still learning how to move right. It was here in the apartment actually, soon after I’d had it modified. I wasn’t careful enough in the shower and I slipped. Raven was staying with me - she heard the thump when I hit the floor and came running. I was struggling to get up and she tried to help and I shouted at her to get out, that I could do it. And maybe I could have, given enough time - I don’t know. Everything was slippery and the angle was bad and I’d had the wind knocked out of me. But Raven couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, and she helped me up anyway.”
Erik winces. “I imagine you reacted negatively.”
Charles gives a low huff of laughter. “Yeah, you could say that. We had a huge screaming fight. I was furious at having my autonomy taken away, after I’d worked so hard to get it back. She was angry that I’d been awful to live with for weeks, ungrateful and bitter even after she’d put her life on hold to help me. There was resentment on both sides, and we’ve always had a certain amount of friction. We eventually made up, but she never tried to help me move again unless I specifically asked for it.”
“I will be more careful to check for permission first,” Erik says.
Charles shakes his head and pats Erik on the shoulder. “No, sweetheart, I didn’t tell you all that as a criticism. Like I said, I’ve gotten to like when you do it. I know you’re not… judging me, I guess, or laughing at me.”
“I would never.”
“Of course,” Charles says, smiling. “You sound so scandalized. It’s cute.”
Erik takes this with good grace. “Why did you tell me, then?”
“I guess it was just on my mind, since I…” Charles shifts, glancing down. “I had a little fall today, actually.”
Erik stiffens. “What? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I’m fine, it wasn’t a big deal,” Charles replies. “Everyone is stressed and rushing on campus this week, and a student wound up running into me. He knocked me over and I slipped out of the chair.”
“What was his name?”
“Oh, look at you bristle,” Charles says fondly. “And you once told me you didn’t have a temper.”
“I only wish to speak with him.”
“Uh-huh. And no, sweetheart, you do not get to yell at that poor boy. It was an accident, and I was as much at fault as he was. He clearly felt awful about it and he was kind of… dithering, I guess, hovering and trying to figure out how to help and apologizing over and over - really, I felt bad for him. It was no problem, I got back in the chair just fine on my own. No harm done.”
Erik gives him a dubious look. “Will you at least let me check you over later?”
Charles grins. “Oh? Are we playing doctor?”
Erik rolls his eyes. “Stop deflecting.”
“Oh fine, if you must,” Charles says, but a little smile still plays about his mouth. “You do like to fuss.”
“I think you like it when I do.”
“Hmm. I just might.” Charles kisses him, then sighs, leaning back. “I guess it did rattle me a little. I wasn’t hurt - mostly embarrassed. It’s been a while since I fell.”
Erik hums and squeezes him, and Charles leans into the touch. “But you’re feeling better now?” Erik asks.
“Much better,” Charles says. “You can put a checkmark on your ‘take good care of Charles’ list.”
Erik laughs and kisses his forehead. “Good. That’s my favorite list.”
“Mmm. Don’t forget yourself, though. How was today? You had a session with Dr. Garrison earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Erik says. “It was fine. We’re still doing cognitive processing exercises. I told him about what happened yesterday when Sean and I were at the park and that man walked past wearing the same hoodie that Axe had. He was glad to hear the grounding techniques worked.”
“That’s right, you didn’t miss a note, did you?”
Erik grins. “And I went somewhere new today, a lake that offers boat rentals. I thought it might be fun for us this weekend if the weather holds up.”
“Sounds great,” Charles says. “You’ve worked so hard in therapy - I’m really proud of you.”
Verbal approval recognized. The warm buzz is the same as ever and Erik sighs, leaning closer. “Thank you,” he says. “It’s easier than it used to be. I’m glad I can go out now without getting anxious. Being stuck in the apartment was starting to get to me.”
“Yes, you were alphabetizing again,” Charles replies. “Always a bad sign.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a neat and orderly environment,” Erik says primly.
“Whatever you say, darling. I’m sure lots of people sort everything in their pantry by the name of the primary ingredient. It’s a perfectly normal thing to do.”
“You think you’re funny, but you’re not.”
Charles laughs. “Somebody has clearly been a bad influence on you. Rolling your eyes at me, talking back - where’s that quiet, meek synthetic I used to know?”
“Hmm,” Erik says. “I can’t imagine where I might have learned such behavior. It must be the company I keep.”
“Most likely. I’ve corrupted you terribly.”
“No,” Erik says. “You’ve made me better.”
Charles beams and touches his face, trailing fingertips along the line of his jaw. “As you’ve done for me.”
Erik kisses him, unable to resist. It’s always good - the taste of Charles, the sleek glide of his lips, the way his breath catches into a little hitch when Erik angles just so. Even after all this time, after thousands of kisses, it’s still so good. Charles is flushed when he pulls back, eyes dancing merrily.
“Listen,” Charles says, “I was thinking. After finals, after I’ve wrapped up the semester - how would you feel about a trip together?”
Erik raises his eyebrows. “What did you have in mind?”
“Europe, probably,” Charles says. “Just you and me. I haven’t been there since before the accident. Traveling alone in a wheelchair - well, it’s stressful. But if you’re there, I’ll be okay.”
Part of Erik’s mind immediately starts building an itinerary. Another part begins a packing list. “Which dates?” he asks. “What part of Europe? Where would we be landing and are there specific landmarks you want me to include in the plan?”
Charles laughs and shakes his head. “Slow down. First of all - are you going to be okay with a trip like this? I know new places were tough for you at first.”
Erik takes a deep breath, thinking. “I believe so. Dr. Garrison has already had me doing exposure therapy and stress inoculation training. I feel better in a new place when there are a lot of people around. Witnesses. Isolated places are still harder. But if we are traveling in Europe in the summer, I imagine there will be crowds. Besides, you will be with me.”
“Always,” Charles says. “And we’ll stick to busy places, that’s fine. As for the schedule, I don’t suppose you’re interested in playing it by ear and roaming wherever sounds good at the moment?”
Erik gives him a look. “You’ve met me, right?”
Charles snorts, grinning. “Fair enough. I’d like to start in England, and visit some old friends at Oxford. After that, the south of France. Maybe the Mediterranean - Greece, Italy, that sort of thing. Let’s soak up the sun.”
Erik adds sunblock to his packing list. “Very well, Charles. I will begin researching. Is there a specific budget you’d like me to keep?”
“Nah,” Charles says. “Mother likes to complain that I don’t make good use of my trust fund. I’m sure she’d be delighted about me having a big, lavish gay holiday.”
“We could send her postcards.”
“Perfect,” Charles says, and kisses him again.
~~~
It turns out Erik doesn’t need a passport to fly. Which is good, since he’s not sure how he would’ve gotten one. He doesn’t have a birth certificate, or a social security number, or any kind of ID. Not even a last name. The airline considers him an extra large carry-on; both seats are in Charles’ name.
He explains this on the way to the airport, and Charles scowls. “Pardon my French,” Charles says, “but that’s bullshit.”
“Charles,” Erik says earnestly, “that was not French.”
Charles goggles at him for a moment, then laughs. “No, I suppose it wasn’t.”
“It doesn’t really matter. We both have seats, we’ll get there.”
“It matters,” Charles replies. “I hate it when people do that, when you get treated like property.”
Erik shrugs. “Everyone I care about treats me as a person.”
“Yes, well,” Charles mutters, somewhat mollified. “I still don’t like it.”
“I know,” Erik says, and slides across the seat of the taxi, putting an arm around Charles’ shoulders. Charles leans into him and sighs. Erik looks out the window. It is a little strange sometimes, to be reminded of what he is. He’s grown accustomed to being considered an equal, and has learned to think of himself the same way. It can be a little jarring to realize most of the world doesn’t see his kind like that.
At the airport, Erik navigates. He looked up the floor plan ahead of time, of course, and he knows their departure gate. They do alright until it’s time to go through security. There is a degree of hassle over Charles’ wheelchair, which is metal alloy and sets off the sensors. He endures a pat-down with patience, and it’s over relatively quickly. Erik, it turns out, is more complicated.
He also sets off the sensors, and the TSA agent holds up a hand. “Wait,” she says, peering at her screen. “You’re a synthetic, right?”
“Yes,” Erik says.
“Are you traveling with your owner?”
Charles is scowling again. “He’s with me. And I’m his partner, not his owner.”
The agent gives him a flat look. “Okay. Whatever. Both of you need to go to the security office over there,” she says, pointing. “They’ll have some forms for you to complete.”
“What?” Charles asks. “Why?”
“It’s standard procedure,” she replies. “Take your bags with you. They may want to conduct a search.”
Charles squares his shoulders and glares, and Erik can already see this situation going downhill and them missing their flight. “It’s fine,” he says quickly, touching Charles’ back. “We’ll follow the procedure. It’s no trouble.”
Charles takes a measured breath and nods. They move obediently over to the security office. A tired-looking man sits behind a desk, leaning heavily on it with his chin propped in one hand. He glances up when they enter, eyes flicking over Charles’ wheelchair and then immediately turning to Erik. “Yes?”
Erik can see Charles tense up again at this casual slight, but he keeps quiet. “Hello,” Erik says, defaulting to the company-standard tone of bland politeness that he uses in these kinds of situations. “The agent at the security checkpoint directed us here. I am a synthetic. Apparently there are some forms to complete?”
The man sighs. “Yeah. Just a sec.” He rummages in a file cabinet, then comes up with a form. He sticks it on a clipboard and hands it to Charles. “Fill that out. And - uh, hang on, I have to read you something.” Erik notices an interesting thing - when the man thought he was human, he dismissed Charles and spoke to Erik. Now that he knows Erik is a synthetic, he’s speaking to Charles again. Apparently there’s a hierarchy.
More rummaging, until he finds a laminated card. He peers at it, holding it at arms’ length and squinting. “Alright. While traveling, keep your synthetic with you at all times. You are responsible for the behavior of your synthetic. The airline is not liable for lost or stolen property. Your synthetic will be issued an ID tag, which must be worn visibly at all times during the flight and while inside the secure areas of the airport. If you become separated from your synthetic, it may be detained with security until you come to retrieve it. The airline is not liable for any delays or missed flights caused by failure to adhere to this policy.”
Charles is getting red in the face. Erik squeezes his shoulder. “We understand,” he says.
Charles says nothing, bending over the form and completing it with quick, angry strokes of the pen. He signs it with a scribble and hands it back. The man peers at it and types slowly on his keyboard, muttering to himself. Erik keeps a hand on Charles' shoulder, stroking with the ball of his thumb. Eventually the man prints something out on bright red paper. He folds it into a square, slips it inside a plastic sleeve with a clip on the end, and hands it to Erik.
“Stick that to your shirt,” he says. “Wear it the whole time.”
“Of course,” Erik says. His face is perfectly calm. Charles is scowling down at his lap.
“Right, you can go. Have a good flight,” the man says.
Charles waits until they’re out of earshot, then looks up at Erik. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, that was awful.”
“I’m fine,” Erik says. “I should have more carefully researched the security policy. I did not anticipate this issue. Fortunately I did build in sufficient buffer time. We can still make it to our gate before the flight begins boarding.”
“Hey,” Charles says, and reaches for him, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”
Erik takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “I kind of want to tear this up,” he admits, gesturing at the red tag clipped to his shirt. “But it’s okay. That man was just doing his job.”
“Yes, well, he didn’t have to be such a dick about it,” Charles replies. “Can you believe he wished us a good flight after that little speech? I feel like they just handed me dog tags and told me to keep you on a leash.”
Erik huffs out a laugh. “I know. It’s alright.”
“It really isn’t,” Charles says, but he starts rolling forward again. “I’m sorry you had to put up with that.”
“Thank you,” Erik says softly. “I mean that, Charles - before you, it never would have even occurred to me to question that kind of treatment. I don’t want you to be upset, but I appreciate that it bothers you this much. That you’re willing to get angry on my behalf.”
“You should get angry on your own behalf,” Charles replies. “I bet you’d make a great rebel leader.”
“Hmm. I could form a brotherhood of synthetics and lead them in a great uprising.”
Charles grins. “Sounds good. As long as there’s still a place for me in this future synthetic utopia.”
“Of course. You would be my royal consort.”
“Oh, are you the king in this scenario?”
Erik nods. “Why not?”
“Well, your majesty,” Charles says dryly, “I believe we’re at our gate. That is, if you can bring yourself to travel with the common folk.”
Erik sits beside him in the waiting area and takes his hand. “I will survive. After all, we are flying first class.”
Charles leans on him, letting their sides bump together companionably. “I suppose that’s all right, then.” He gives Erik a quick kiss, then rests his head on his shoulder. “Really though - you’re alright?”
“I’m alright,” Erik replies. “I’ve lived through harder things than one unpleasant TSA agent.”
Charles nods. “Yeah.”
Erik squeezes his hand. “Do you want to hear the list of places I have outlined for our first week?”
“Darling,” Charles says, “I would love to.”
~~~
It’s a seven hour flight, and Oxford is another hour of driving from Heathrow; between that and the time difference, it’s quite late by the time they arrive at their hotel and Charles is exhausted from traveling all day. Erik makes sure his bags are within reach and the bathroom is accessible, and then he performs a check of the room while Charles gets ready for bed. It’s something he needs to do in new places.
They’re on the ground floor, and he makes note of the emergency exits. He pushes on the window frame, confirming they are sealed shut. The room door locks automatically when it closes, but he also throws the interior bolt. The bed is king-size, and lowered, making it easier for Charles to get in and out. Erik tests the softness and support, then drops to the floor and peers underneath. He prowls through the little kitchenette, opening all the cupboards. Then he unpacks; he takes the left side of the dresser, just like at home, and puts Charles’ things neatly away on the right. He’s just hanging the last of their items in the closet when Charles rolls out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in pajama bottoms.
Charles grins at him. “You already organized everything, didn’t you?”
“There’s no need to live out of a suitcase. The hotel provides furniture for a reason.”
“Mmm-hmm. And I know how you love putting rolled up socks in neat little rows.”
“It makes them easy to find. I packed specifically so we would run out at the same time and be on the same laundry schedule.”
Charles laughs, then takes his hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Erik. Sweetheart. I love you, but only you would plan out a laundry schedule on a holiday.”
“It’s more efficient,” Erik says, but he can’t help smiling.
“Of course it is,” Charles says. “Come here, come lie down with me, okay?”
“Always.”
Erik gets under the covers first, then holds them up for Charles to slip beneath once he transfers to the bed. Charles stretches with a long groan and pulls Erik close, tucking himself into the space Erik makes for him. “Hmmm,” he says, low and satisfied. “Been waiting for this all day.”
Erik nods, trailing his fingertips over Charles’ back in lazy circles. He drops a kiss on Charles’ temple and takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. There is a kind of low tension in his chest and belly, something that has buzzed under his skin ever since they left home, but he can feel it easing as they lie together.
“How are you doing?” Charles asks.
“Alright. The flight was the hardest. Small, crowded space with no exits. I did my breathing exercises and I was okay.”
“That’s good. I saw how you tensed up when that man brushed past us.”
“He surprised me, that’s all. Came up from behind. You know I’m not always good with being touched by strangers if I don’t see it coming.”
“I know,” Charles says. He rubs his knuckles over the center of Erik’s chest, up and down in slow, hypnotic movements. “You did so well. I’m sorry the trip was difficult for you.”
Erik shakes his head. “I’m glad we’re here, that we’re doing this. I need to stretch. Dr. Garrison says routine is fine but I have to be careful because I like it so much. I can end up locking myself in, creating a structure of doing the same things over and over and never leaving where I feel most comfortable.”
“I can understand that. I used to do the same, actually, before you came. I lived between my apartment and the university, and rarely went to other places. Going somewhere new was always nerve wracking because it might not be accessible, and it was easier to just… not.”
“Do you remember when I convinced you to start going on walks with me?”
Charles laughs. “Yes, you presented your case like you were delivering an oral defense. I bet if I asked, you could’ve cited your sources.”
“Certainly I could have.”
Charles leans back so he can look Erik in the eye, and strokes a hand over his cheek. “I think that was the first time I realized you were capable of so much more.”
Erik nods thoughtfully. “I’m designed to be adaptive, to learn and adjust my behavior to meet the needs of my client. Maybe the only reason I was able to become more… human, or alive, is because you treated me that way.”
“Maybe,” Charles says. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Charles yawns, settling more comfortably against him. “And before I forget, thank you for doing all the planning. I know I tease you sometimes about how in-depth you get, but seriously, it’s a lot of work and you’ve made sure everything was accessible and it just takes a huge amount of stress off me to know you’re on top of things. I never would’ve tried a trip like this without you.”
Erik beams, feeling the warm swell in his chest that always comes from Charles’ approval. “I’ll remind you of that next time you make a remark about laundry schedules.”
Charles snorts. “Yeah, fair enough.” Then he yawns again. Erik can feel him growing heavier, his body relaxing into sleep.
“Good night, Charles,” he murmurs. Charles makes a mumbled response and sighs. Erik listens to the familiar sound of his breathing and feels the quiet thump of his heart. He smiles in the dim room. They are far from home, in a strange place, but he feels safe.
~~~
“Alright,” Charles says the next morning at breakfast. “There’s something we should talk about.”
Erik looks up at him. They’re sitting in the hotel’s conservatory, lingering over tea and scones. “Yes?”
“On the Oxford tour today, I want to show you around my old stomping grounds, as it were. Reminisce about my wild college days.” He gives Erik a wry grin. “Not that they were all that wild. Other than the pub nights, I’ve always been something of a stodgy academic.”
“That’s not how Raven tells it.”
“Yes, well, she’s always had a flair for the dramatic. Anyway, while we’re here, I also want to say hello to a few old friends. One of them in particular - Wesley.”
Erik tilts his head to one side. “Alright…”
“We were students together, years ago. He stayed on, once he completed his doctorate, and he’s a professor now. He lives here in the city.”
“Did you want me to check his class schedule or something so we know when to visit?”
“No, that’s…” Charles reaches across the table, taking his hand. “I felt I should tell you, Wesley and I were a couple. We dated for two years. We were quite serious about each other, actually - I considered staying in England permanently just to be with him. In the end, obviously, I didn’t, and we mutually decided we didn’t want to do long distance. We were both young, and our careers were taking us to different parts of the world. It was an amicable split and we remained friends.”
“I see,” Erik says, processing. “Thank you for telling me.”
Charles watches his face. His thumb slowly strokes over the back of Erik’s hand. “I haven’t told him I’m in town, or made any meeting arrangements yet. I wanted to talk it over with you first.”
Erik nods. The line of his shoulders relaxes a little. “Does he know about me?”
“Yes - we email from time to time, and I’ve told him about you.”
“And he knows I’m a synthetic?”
“Yes,” Charles says. “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson about that.”
Erik smiles, letting out a breath. “I know. Does he seem… okay with that idea?”
“More than, actually,” Charles replies. “Wesley’s academic focus is on computer science and artificial intelligence. He’s fascinated by advanced synthetics. He told me the only reason he doesn’t have one of his own was that he couldn’t afford the price tag. He’ll be delighted to meet you. Probably ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m not a lab specimen,” Erik says firmly.
Charles beams at him. “I love it when you stand up for yourself. And don’t worry; he’s curious, but respectful. If you feel uncomfortable just say so.”
“Alright. I’d be fine with us meeting him, then.”
“Good - thank you.” Charles takes a sip of his tea, then looks out the window for a moment. “There’s… um, one other thing.”
“Oh?”
Charles gives him a rueful smile. “I haven’t actually… well, it's been years since we saw each other. Not since before my accident. And I guess I didn’t want him to - I mean, there’s a certain way he remembers me, and I thought, why ruin that, right?”
Erik raises his eyebrows. “You haven’t told him about the paralysis.”
Charles nods. He offers a half-hearted little shrug. “It hasn’t come up?”
“You are not good at telling people things.”
“I’ve noticed,” Charles replies dryly. “I’m dreading his reaction when he sees me.”
“You should tell him first, when you arrange the meeting.”
“You think so? Kind of give some advance warning?”
“If he is surprised, his reaction may upset you,” Erik says. “I don’t want you to be hurt. The most logical choice is to give him time to adapt so he is prepared when you meet in person.”
“I can always count on you to be logical.”
Erik gives him a long look. Then he scoots closer, so he can wrap an arm around Charles’ shoulders and press a kiss to the side of his head. “Why are you afraid?”
Charles sighs and leans into him. “After the accident, there were so many people I had to tell. Raven first, and she was the hardest. Then the rest of the family, and my friends. Then my colleagues. Basically, for anyone who knew me before, I eventually had to break the news. And there was always some kind of - I don’t know. A change, I guess. People fell into two camps. Either there was pity, or this transparent fake cheer. And both of those are awful. Wesley is the last person I was close to who still doesn’t know. He still talks to me the same way he always did. Maybe I just don’t want to lose that.”
“Hmm.”
“You think I’m being ridiculous.”
“No,” Erik says. “I think you are being human.”
“Kind of the same thing.”
“Sometimes.” Erik squeezes him. “Wesley will adapt. If he cannot see past the chair, then he was never worthy of your regard in the first place.”
Charles nods. “At least if I tell him over the phone, I won’t have to see his face.”
“It will be fine. I think he’ll take it well.”
“You don’t even know him,” Charles points out.
“No, but I know you. You have good taste in companions.”
“Ah.” Charles smiles up at him. “Present company included?”
“Exactly.”
~~~