Being Wrong

Travis half expected Charlie not to show after the way he'd looked at him and then just walked off at the end of lunch break, but just after seven there was a tentative knock on the door, barely loud enough to be heard over the stereo.

When Travis opened the door, Charlie was wearing pyjama pants and his fingers were tangling in the strings on his hoodie as Artemis rubbed against his leg. It took all of Travis' willpower to step aside and let him inside instead of finding out if Charlie felt as cuddly as he looked.

"Things okay?" Travis asked when Charlie stopped just inside the door and focussed the entirety of his attention on twisting his hoodie strings together.

Charlie nodded his head without looking up, but he didn't move.

"You want to sit down?"

Charlie nodded again, and finally he walked over and sat down on the sofa. Travis considered sitting down next to Charlie, but decided a spot on the other end was probably safer.

Once they were both seated, Travis was stuck. He just didn't know what to do with someone like Charlie. There were plenty of things he would have liked to do, sure, but most of them were out of the question. He would have been happy to just do whatever Charlie wanted, but Charlie was still intensely focussed on his hoodie strings.

"So, uh... tell me about you," Travis said after a full minute of awkward silence.

The small crease that formed in Charlie's brow as he continued swinging the strings was the only indication he'd heard Travis, until after much too long a stretch he finally said, "I don't know."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Finally, Charlie glanced up, though only for a second. "No, I just, I don't know. It's a hard question."

"What kinds of things do you like doing?"

"Listening to music. Reading." Charlie shrugged. When he swung one of his hoodie strings around in a circle, Artemis, who had jumped up onto the back of the sofa, batted at it with her paw. The smallest of smiles curved Charlie's lips as he lifted the string to wiggle it in front of her.

"You like any TV shows? Movies?" Travis prompted.

Charlie twisted around to face Artemis as he played with her. "My dad didn't have a TV. Or a computer."

"That must have sucked," Travis said carefully.

Charlie shrugged again.

Travis resisted the urge to ask once more if Charlie wanted to be left alone. He'd chosen to come over tonight and he'd already said he didn't, but everything he did seemed to signal his complete disinterest in interacting with Travis.

"You want ice cream?" Travis tried.

That got Charlie's attention. "What kind?"

"Chocolate."

Charlie nodded. Travis was off the sofa and halfway to the kitchen by the time Charlie said, "Please."

Travis grinned and shook his head. "I think I have some M&M's in the cupboard." When Charlie was silent, Travis glanced over his shoulder at him. "You want M&M's on yours?"

"Yes, please."

Travis scooped two bowls of ice cream and sprinkled M&M's on top of them, then returned to the living room to find Artemis curled on her side on the back of the sofa and Charlie with his eyes shut and the top of his head pressed against her furry chest. For a moment Travis just stood there, a bowl of ice cream in each hand, and watched as Charlie rocked his head back and forth against Artemis while she purred enthusiastically into his hair. Charlie seemed to always look out of place, like he didn't quite belong in the world and was constantly aware of it, but just then, snuggled up with Artemis on Travis' sofa, he looked like he'd found one tiny place where he fit.

A spoon clinked against the side of one of the bowls as Travis shifted, Charlie raised his head, and the moment was broken.

"Thank you," Charlie said as he took the bowl Travis offered him.

By the time Travis sat back down in his spot, Charlie was carefully scooping the M&M's out one by one and eating them.

"Did you not want the M&M's and the ice cream in together?" Travis asked as he watched Charlie carefully excavate an M&M.

Charlie's eyes flicked up to meet Travis', and then he abandoned his task and scooped a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as he drew one of his knees up against his chest.

It was subtle, the difference in the way Charlie held himself and the slight tightening of his expression. If Travis hadn't been watching him so carefully he might have missed it, might not have realised he'd said anything wrong.

"I didn't mean—" Travis sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "You can eat it however you like, okay?"

Charlie scooped an M&M out and crunched it between his teeth. "My grandma doesn't like me messing with my food."

"I'm not your grandma."

"No, you're... different. From everyone."

"You're a bit different yourself."

Charlie lifted his other knee up to join his first one and perched the bowl of ice cream on top of them. "Yeah, but the ways you're different are actually good."

"You think the ways you're different are bad?"

Charlie shrugged.

"Well, I mean, you're pretty obviously unhappy, so I guess that's not good, but I'm not sure how much of that's actually you and how much is just your circumstances. I like you just fine how you are."

Charlie squirmed his feet together. He wasn't wearing shoes. "Yeah, but you don't have to live with me. I'm too difficult about everything and people get angry."

Travis sighed and stared down at his melting ice cream as he poked it around with his spoon. He hated that Charlie had to put up with so much shit, and he doubly hated that Charlie seemed to blame himself for it all.

"You can come here whenever you like, okay?" he told Charlie instead. "Even if it's like, two in the morning on a school night, I don't care. If you need somewhere to go, my door's always open."

Charlie turned to look at the front door. "It's shut now."

"You know what I mean."

Charlie's lips twisted together as he continued staring at the front door. "Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Charlie."

Travis had no idea what to actually do with Charlie's company after they'd finished their ice cream, but it didn't end up being a problem. As soon as Charlie had set his bowl aside he rearranged the cushions on the sofa and curled up on his side, shifting around for several minutes until he finally got comfortable and let out a long sigh. Travis thought he might have been planning on staying there for the night, but he woke when Travis started getting ready for bed a couple of hours later and said a sleepy goodnight before leaving.

Charlie's presence had been quiet and unobtrusive, but the flat felt too empty with him gone. He wished so hard his heart ached that Charlie was still here and they were about to head off to bed together. He didn’t even have anything sexual in mind, but he still felt guilty for the thought. Travis locked the door and went to bed, Artemis his only company.

#

Charlie hadn't had maths with Travis the next day and he hid in the quiet of the library at lunch, but he showed up at Travis' door with an armful of school books just after dinner. He didn't say anything as he moved past Travis into the flat and sat down on the sofa. Dinner had ended with Charlie refusing to eat no matter how frustrated his grandma got with him, and he was hungry and tired. Perhaps his bedroom, free from all people, would have been a safer choice, but there was something about Travis’ flat that settled his nerves and made him feel a little less on edge. Something about Travis himself, maybe.

"Everything okay?" Travis asked cautiously as he claimed the other end of the sofa.

Charlie made a quiet grunting sound and fidgeted his body. Not really.

Travis eyed the books settled across Charlie's lap. "You going to study?"

Charlie nodded and ran his fingers along the spine of one of the books. That was the plan, though underfed and overstimulated he wasn't sure how much luck he'd have.

"Okay, well, I was just going to make dinner. Have you eaten?"

Charlie made another sound and rocked his head from side to side. He'd forced a few mouthfuls of potato salad down, but he wasn't sure that really counted.

"I was going to make scrambled egg on toast if you want some," Travis offered.

Charlie looked up at him. "Just egg?"

Travis shrugged. "Egg, butter, salt."

Charlie let out a sigh of relief. Normal food. "Yes, please."

It felt weird having Travis do everything for him while he did nothing, so he followed Travis into the kitchen and, while Travis cracked eggs, Charlie filled the kitchen sink with warm water.

"What are you doing?" Travis asked.

"Dishes," Charlie explained as he carefully scrubbed at a spoon.

"Uhh, you don't have to do that. It's fine."

"This was my job, when I lived with my dad." Charlie set the spoon on the drying rack and fished a fork out from under the water. "I'm good at washing dishes. Meticulous. My grandparents have a dishwasher."

"You want to, huh?"

"Everyone has to do their part. I don't like gardening."

"I don't like doing dishes, but I don't mind cooking. If this is how you want to do things, it works for me."

Charlie worked in silence, cleaning each dish and piece of cutlery with care, but Travis hummed a tune Charlie didn't recognise to himself as he whisked eggs and melted butter together with a fork. Just being around him relaxed Charlie.

"Eggs up," Travis said a couple of minutes later.

"I'm not done," Charlie protested. He still had two bowls and a handful of cutlery to go.

"Just leave it."

Charlie made a face down at the dishwater. He was almost done. At his grandparents house, this would be the moment when his grandma pushed him and his frustration boiled over. He was already too close to losing his ability to cope.

"Or you can finish first?" Travis said when Charlie just stayed where he was, standing by the sink, neither continuing his work nor making any move to claim his share of the food.

Charlie immediately got back to washing the dishes, and a couple of minutes later he was done. Travis had waited in the kitchen while Charlie finished up and that had made Charlie feel a bit self conscious, but Travis hadn't shown any signs of impatience. He handed Charlie a plate and they headed back into the living room.

Charlie picked at his eggs just as he picked at everything that wasn't of a uniform texture, but they were good. They just tasted like eggs, no surprises. If his grandma had made them she probably would have added a half dozen extra ingredients and then insisted they were just eggs.

When they were done eating Charlie took both his own plate and Travis' to the kitchen and washed them before returning to the living room and sorting through the stack of textbooks he'd brought with him. His mind felt much clearer now that he had a full belly and he thought he might actually be able to absorb something.

#

Travis sat awkwardly on the other end of the sofa for several minutes while Charlie completely ignored him in favour of his textbooks before finally remembering he had homework he might as well be doing. Artemis settled between them and Charlie idly rubbed her ears with his toes while he flipped through the pages of his book, and it was nice.

Even Robby's company had never been this easy. He liked it when Robby was around, but sharing space with him was always a series of minor discomforts and compromises. Robby listened to the football too loud and didn't clean up after himself and made crude comments about women that just made him seem insecure. Charlie was... comfortable. He fit here, in this tiny flat.

Travis had just begun to settle in and actually focus on his work when a rapid series of knocks on the door jerked both their heads up. Charlie stayed where he was, but he glared at the door like it was his enemy.

The person at the door only paused for a few seconds before knocking again, more insistently this time, and Travis got to his feet. In the neighbourhood he'd grown up in he'd have answered with his old metal baseball bat in hand, but the area he lived in now was less prone to random lunatics.

When he opened the door, he discovered that the token neighbourhood looney had in fact decided to show up.

"Can I help you?" Travis asked Charlie's grandmother coldly.

"My grandson, have you seen—" She peered past Travis into the flat, and her expression shifted. "Charlie, what are you doing here? Get out of there."

Travis glanced over his shoulder at Charlie, and saw that he had pulled his legs up against his chest and was tugging agitatedly at fistfuls of his hair, his gaze set firmly on his toes. Travis turned back around to face Charlie's grandmother. "I don't think he wants to."

Charlie's grandmother made a sound of annoyance. "I don't care whether he wants to or not. Charlie, you can't just walk out of the house at night without telling anyone. I was this close to calling the police!"

Charlie remained unresponsive, though the tugging on his hair had grown more vicious.

"Charlie—" Charlie's grandmother started again, irritation rising in her voice, but Travis cut her off.

"You know where he is now and that he's fine. Why not leave him be?"

Charlie's grandmother shook her head and pressed her lips together so firmly that they trembled. “He can’t just do whatever he wants all the time with no regard for anyone else.”

Travis seriously disliked her, but he could tell she was genuinely distressed. She’d been worried when she thought she’d lost Charlie. She didn’t not care, she was just monumentally bad at this. Starting a fight with her wouldn’t help any of them, least of all Charlie.

"You know what he's done tonight? He's said please and thank you every time I've given him something, he did my dishes without being asked, and then he settled down quietly to do his homework. I get that he worried you by leaving without telling you, but he’s not some delinquent.”

Charlie's grandmother shook her head. "It's different, when you live with him all the time. He won't talk, he won't eat his food. I don't know how to get through to him. What am I supposed to do?" She let out a breathy, slightly hysterical laugh. "And I'm asking a teenage boy, as though you're going to have all the answers."

Travis looked back over his shoulder at Charlie. It felt weird to be talking about him when he was right there. He wasn't sure if it was his place. "Just... let him come over here if he wants to, okay? He's safe and he's getting his homework done."

Charlie's grandmother let out a huff. "He can't just be disappearing without warning whenever he feels like it. He half scared me to death."

"How about we exchange numbers and I call you whenever he comes over? He's most likely to end up here when he’s stressed out, which might make it difficult for him to ask first."

She leant past Travis and frowned at Charlie, who was tugging at his hair and ignoring their presence. There was a stretch of silence while she just watched him. "You don't mind?"

A small smile crept onto Travis lips and he shrugged. "I get lonely."

Charlie's grandmother let out a sigh. "Okay. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?"

Charlie had seemed to be too busy freaking out to take anything in, but when Travis ducked back inside Charlie handed him a pen that had been sitting on the coffee table. Travis tore a scrap of paper from the bottom of a worksheet he'd been working on before they'd been interrupted, and Charlie watched diligently as he scrawled down his phone number, the hands that had been tugging at his hair resting harmlessly on top of his knees.

Charlie’s grandmother was still waiting politely in the doorway by the time Travis returned, and she carefully wrote her phone number down for him when he offered her the piece of paper and the pen. Travis tore the piece of paper in half, handing her the section with his number on and tucking the one with hers into his pocket.

"I'll call if you're not back by the time I go to bed, okay Charlie?" she called into the flat.

For a moment it looked like Charlie was going to ignore her, but after several long seconds he looked up, not quite making eye contact, and nodded.

Charlie's grandmother forced a smile for Travis. "Thank you for taking care of him. Send him home if he gets to be a bother."

"Sure," Travis said, though that didn't sound very likely.

With one last glance in at Charlie, Charlie's grandmother left.

Travis let out a sigh of relief as he shut the door behind her. "Well."

Charlie was sitting with his knees up, wiggling his toes. He didn't acknowledge Travis when he sat back down on the other end of the sofa.

"You okay?" Travis asked after a few moments.

"That went... better than expected," Charlie said slowly. "I just don't know how to talk to her."

"She's tricky," Travis said. "But... I think she really cares about you, you know? I mean, she’s awful, but it’s because she hates you or anything."

"I make things difficult," Charlie murmured, rubbing idly at the side of his face. "I tried to be good but I just can't. I'm tired and I want everything to stop."

Charlie's voice sounded sore and he swallowed just a bit too thickly. Travis wanted to reach out to him, to hug him, to do something, but he had no idea if that would be appreciated or make things worse. God, he wanted so badly to just be able to fix everything. He and Charlie were very different people who had led very different lives, but Travis knew how hard it was to find any kind of peace when your whole world felt unstable.

"You're doing great, Charlie," Travis told him. "You've had so much going on in your life lately and I probably don't know the half of it, but you're still doing your best and carrying on. You're pretty amazing."

Charlie's brow tightened and for a moment he looked almost angry, then he made a small, broken sound and flopped face forward onto the sofa. It took Travis a few seconds to realise he was crying. Well, fuck.

Charlie made a quiet sound in the back of his throat when Travis' hand came to rest on the top of his head, but he didn't move away like Travis had been half expecting. When Travis began to rake his fingers slowly through Charlie's hair, Charlie surprised him by rolling his head into the touch. He sniffled for a few more seconds before shuffling forward until the top of his head rested against Travis' thigh.

From anyone else, Travis would have taken that as clear flirtation. From Charlie, he had no idea. He was fairly sure it meant Charlie liked having his hair petted, but that could easily be all it meant. There was no way to clarify without ruining the moment.

"You like this?" Travis asked as he continued stroking his hand over Charlie's hair.

Charlie made a grumbling sound and squirmed, butting his head against Travis' thigh.

Travis chuckled. "You're practically a cat."

Charlie rolled onto his back and smiled up at Travis. His eyes were still wet and red, but he no longer looked distressed. Just absolutely exhausted. "Yes. I could be your cat and just live here. No one minds if cats are useless. They're supposed to be."

"You're not useless, Charlie. Neither are cats. They're good company, and so are you."

Charlie's eyes jumped away from Travis' face and then slid shut. He yawned and stretched out, squirming around for a moment until he was comfortable and then settled in with his head still pressed against Travis' thigh. Travis continued petting his hair for another minute, and by the time he stopped Charlie seemed almost asleep.

Travis wanted to bend down and kiss his delicate eyelids, feel the soft curve of his lips with his tongue, find out what he was wearing under his hoodie. Instead, he reached for his textbook and did some biology revision as Charlie's breathing deepened and steadied.