Page 47 of The Charm Offensive
Charlie grabs two fistfuls of Dev’s jacket. “Why do you always pull away from me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let’s play a game,” he hears himself say. He’s drunk, so drunk. “Let’s see who pulls away first.”
And then he shoves Dev’s back against the brick wall again, harder than he intends, but it’s fine, because Dev is here. Dev isright here. Charlie’s holding him in place, and Dev’s knee is on Charlie’s thigh, and Charlie’s knee is brushing Dev’s skin. This is what he wanted. This is what he’s wanted fordays, and now Devis here, and Charlie realizes he has no idea what happens next. Dev usually scripts these sorts of things for him.
“What the hell, Charlie?”
He grabs tighter to the front of Dev’s jacket. He’s not sure what to say.
He says, “Can I please kiss you?”
Dev
First Charlie shoves him against a brick wall, and then he asks permission to kiss him, and the stark juxtaposition between that act of aggression and the thoughtful question of consent might be the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to Dev, overriding any logical thought. He says something. It might be “okay.”
But Charlie Winshaw isn’t going to kiss him. It makes no sense. None of this makes any sense. Charlie’s pinning him against this wall with a wild look in his eyes, and Dev wants to pull away; Dev never wants to pull away. But Charlie isn’t going to kiss him, and Dev doesn’t want Charlie to kiss him. Because he doesn’t have feelings for Charlie.
Then Charlie’s thumb is on Dev’s lower lip, brushing it tenderly, and thenCharlie’s mouth is on Dev’s lower lip.Andfuck.
The Prince Charming on the showEver Afteris kissing him against a brick wall, so hesitantly, his mouth soft and tasting of salt. For a second, Dev thinks about the camera angles and the music they would add in postproduction, and then he doesn’t think about anything, because Charlie’s hands are on his hips, sliding their bodies together as his tongue teases Dev’s mouth apart.
Charlie Winshaw tastes better than mint Oreos, and Dev definitely wants this. Which is why he has to stop.
“I’m sorry.” Charlie exhales as soon as their mouths fall apart.
“Charlie, you’re drunk.” It’s almost impossible to get those words out, especially with Charlie six inches away, mouth half open. Dev clings to all his logical reasons for not doing this. The moral questionability of kissing your straight friend when he’s drunk. Not being a straight boy’s experiment at twenty-eight.Losing his job.“You don’t want to do this.”
“Dev,” Charlie slurs. “I really want to do this.” And he grabs him by the back of the neck again. There’s nothing soft about the way he shoves them back together, teeth first, and then tongue, and then hands. Heat—messy, sloppyheat.Charlie’s fingernails scrape the small hairs on the back of his neck, and even as Dev’s body dissolves at the touch, his mind gets stuck on an important thought:Charlie hates kissing.
Charlie hates kissing, so why is he kissing Dev like his whole life depends on it?
Charlie isstraight, so why would he want to kiss Dev?
Charlie isCharlie—beautiful, brilliant, carefully guarded Charlie—so why would he want to kissDev?
Dev needs to push him away again. Dev is going to push Charlie away again. In, like, five seconds, he will totally stop this.
But then Charlie grinds his hips against Dev’s, and Dev can feel Charlie harden through his shorts, andnope. Dev’s not going to do a damn thing. He’s going to live and die in this moment. He’ll happily quitEver Afterin shame and never work in Hollywood again if it means one more minute against this brick wall with Charlie Winshaw.
And once he determines this kiss is worth destroying his entire life for, he decides to make it count. He grabs a fistfulof Charlie’s curls—and he knows with absolute certainty every time he grabbed Charlie’s hair before now,thisis what he really wanted—and he snaps him around so that Charlie’s back is against the wall.
Once Dev’s running the show, there are more hands and more teeth. What Charlie lacks in skill and experience, he eclipses with raw enthusiasm. Charlie’s hands find his ass, the inseam of his pants, his stomach beneath his shirt. Charlie touches Dev like he doesn’t know where to start, like he’s overwhelmed by his options; Dev touches Charlie like he knows this is his only chance. He touches Charlie like Charlie is going to disappear at any second.
Dev runs his teeth along Charlie’s strong jaw until he arrives at the chin dimple and bites, and Charlie shivers in response. Dev feels that shiver in every inch of his body, the want gathering in him like something dangerous, until he hooks his leg behind Charlie’s and grinds down against him. Charlie exhales a shy moan into Dev’s mouth, and Dev fills his lungs with the sound of Charlie wanting him.
All at once, he comes to his senses. They’re in public, on a street in New Orleans, where anyone could stumble upon the star ofEver Afterkissing a man.
He pulls away. Beneath him, Charlie slumps against the wall, breathing heavily, his cheeks pink.
“Thank you,” Charlie eventually whispers into the space between them.
“Did you justthank mefor kissing you?”
Charlie presses two fingers to the corner of Dev’s smile. “I did.”
Dev shakes his head and laughs. “That is a little weird.”
