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Chapter Text

Charles had that mischievous glint in his eye, the one that always promised trouble for both boys by the end of the night.

"Is there any chance I can dissuade you from whatever scheme you are currently planning to enact?"

His grin widened. There was something almost feral in the way it showed his teeth. "You accusing me of being up to no good, mate?"

Edwin ignored the liquid feeling that smile stirred in him. They were on business tonight.

"You know I could not care less about half the people in attendance, but please, Judy is an invaluable informant. I'd rather like to continue being able to show my face in her establishment going forward."

Charles's nose scrunched in a silent snicker before he peeled back his jacket to reveal a hip flask glinting as bright as his eyes. "Nothing so bad as all that, innit?"

"Spiking the punch?" Edwin arched a brow, voice dripping with faux-disdain. "Isn't that a bit juvenile, even for you?"

(He hoped his overwhelming fondness for Charles's prankish boyishness hadn't eroded the bite of his chastisement, but he knew it more than likely had.)

Charles shrugged, all fluid and loose as though he had already partaken. Edwin knew he hadn't; Charles was just getting into character. He'd be in perfect form tonight.

"Piss off," he said, all mirth. Edwin could practically hear the anticipation bubbling under his skin like soda-pop– he was thrilled. Charles Rowland: 'Party Animal.' It was a facade Edwin rarely got to observe. "It's a classic for a reason."

"And how, pray tell, will libations offer us cover?"

"Little bit more than just plain ol' spirits in here," Charles replied impishly, tossing the flask in the air with a spin before stowing it safely in his coat once more.

Edwin side-eyed him. He didn't like the sound of that. (Though he loved the way he said it a little too much.) "An enchantment?" he guessed.

That wolfish smile returned. "I'll tell you after," he said with a wink.

"Charles!"

The night promised to spell trouble indeed.

Chapter Text

Charles loved Edwin's hands. Slender fingers made for tickling ivories and turning book pages. Free of callouses, but he did have a little hair on his knuckles.

How methodical, as they poured and pinched and measured, always steady when he was at work. Charles marveled at how he coulda been a bloody surgeon in life.

How theatrical, as he gestured and flourished like his arguments were a spell too.

How it made Charles's heart stutter, when one landed stray on his shoulder.

Charles didn't like being dead, but how could he really begrudge any afterlife within reach of those hands?

Chapter Text

"I think I hear something," Charles murmured.

The boys stopped midway up the decaying stairs, caught like dust hanging in a sunbeam. Charles was out in front to buffer against any lurking danger while Edwin pressed close behind, alert. They strained to hear anything new, but both were met with the kind of thick, foreboding silence that made you grit your teeth too hard.

"Would you," Edwin whispered slowly, giving the noise ample time to replicate itself between each word, "describe it please?"

"Kinda like a scrambling," Charles breathed out, grip bruisingly tight around his bat.

"I don't–"

Skitter.

Woosh!

Thwunk!

Screee!

Edwin's hands came up to catch Charles by the waist and keep him from tumbling down the narrow stairs with the momentum of his swing while the raccoon that had made the offending noise bounded off down the hall unharmed.

"Good ear, Charles," Edwin remarked as he let go of him and dusted nonexistent debris from his own suit front to set his nerves back to rights as well as he could.

Charles gave a tight chuckle and yanked his bat free of the splintering wall before clomping the rest of the way up to the second story.

Chapter Text

"Don't go to the basement

chanting MaryAnn, MaryAnn,

or a demon will come

and drag you to hell."

The boys snicker.

"Don't go up to the attic

calling Charlie Row, Charlie Row

or a ghoulie will come

and bash you to bits."

Any bloke who tests

knows its all just rubbish.

Ain't no ghoulies and demons at Hil's.

Just empty rooms

full of dust.

The quiet kids though

who take their reprieve

in dusty quiet rooms

away from the harshness

of classmates

know

there is a lantern,

glowing warm on winter nights

and the soothing sound

of reading and laughter.

Chapter Text

"I'd give my left nut for a Reese's right now," Charles bemoaned from his supine position on his too-short twin bed.

Edwin snorted. "You'll be on holiday next week."

Charles actually groaned into his pillow in response. "But I'll die if I have to wait another second, now won't I?"

Edwin rolled his eyes to the heavens before clambering off the side of his equally short bed, lifting the corner of his flimsy mattress, and producing a cellophane bag of sweets he'd been saving for a special occasion.

To which Charles lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Well since I'd rather you not perish." Edwin tipped the bag to him, and Charles snatched it up ravenously.

"Brills! You're aces, mate! I owe you one."

"You certainly do after this not-at-all-ploy to get me to offer you the sweets you knew I'd hidden back here." Edwin sat back on the edge of the bed, legs crossing at the knee so his foot hung just so.

Charles hurriedly tore the foil off one, popped it in his mouth, and started unwrapping his next before he'd even begun chewing the first. He hummed a distracted affirmation around his mouthful, though it could have just as easily been an ecstatic moan at the taste, if Edwin was to guess.

As Charles tossed the second one in his mouth and sucked his pointer between his lips to lick off the remaining melty chocolate, Edwin suddenly realized with great embarrassment he was staring, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Edwin stared at where the digit disappeared between his lips, entranced as Charles then repeated the action with his thumb. His eyes were squeezed closed in pleasure, and he wore a little crease between his brows like the sensation was so good it wounded him. As the thumb left his mouth, Edwin's eyes flicked back to his lips. Only one bite in and Charles had somehow already managed to get a dark brown smudge at their corner.

Edwin had the insane impulse to lick it clean.

He gulped loudly. He suddenly felt rather parched. He also now bore a simmering heat far lower in his gut than he would prefer.

He averted his gaze to the floor– the ceiling– the text book open on his bed, clearing his throat like that would help somehow alleviate his discomfort before fully turning from Charles to pantomime studying instead. "You may keep the whole bag," he all but squeaked.

"You sure, mate?" Charles asked sincerely. "Don't wanna steal all your candy."

"I assure you," Edwin lied, voice cracking, "it is fine."

Chapter Text

Charles pulled the needle through one last time, gave the knot a few tugs for good measure, and bit the threat off with his teeth before humming in appreciation. "There we are," he sing-songed, appraising his handiwork. "Looking good, innit?"

He slid his arms back into his coat sleeves and smoothed down his lapel with satisfaction before Edwin stepped closer, popped the collar for him, and peeled his left lapel from his chest to inspect the small, fabric pumpkin now sewn into the interior.

"Yes, very good, Charles." He patted his friend's chest. "Is is time we tested it?"

Charles's smile widened in excitement as he nodded, shooing Edwin back in case the enchantment went sideways.

Edwin did as he was told, produced his notebook, and gestured for Charles to begin, excitement twinkling in his eyes. They both knew how he adored Charles's disguises.

Charles thumped his chest once, right over his heart, and a shimmer of magic poofed! out around him in a sparking haze. As Charles waved off the cloud, Edwin sucked in a breath as he beheld a bulbous shape emerging from obscurity.

A whole jack-o-lantern had materialized around Charles's head, complete with triangle eyes, a Cheshire grin, and a candle flame flickering bright at it's center. Edwin smiled so big, it surely rivaled the pumpkin's.

"Marvelous work, Charles," he exclaimed.

Charles laughed loud, spun around to see the illusion in the mirror, and pumped his fist in the air in triumph. "Brills! Headless horseman, here we come!"