Page 40 of Break the Rule
“Theo would avenge me,” Alec grins.
That is entirely debatable since Theo’s brand of anxiety and people-pleasing won’t even allow him to tell the server at a restaurant that his food was made wrong, but Charlie is a good enough brother to not point that out.
“Tell yourself whatever you need, short stack.”
“Your pancakes will be a short stack,” Alec snarks, flipping Charlie two middle fingers as he stalks out of the room. “Five minutes, asshole.”
Five minutes is more than enough for Charlie, who ambles to the bathroom, t-shirt Alec gave him clutched in his hand. He lays it on the sink before taking a piss then splashing his face with cold water. Realizing that might not be good enough he grabs the bar of soap and scrubs his face, not in the mood to be caughtwith come on his face in front of Theo. When he’s finished, he grabs the hand towel, drying his face and giving himself a once over. The front of him is fairly unassuming, but based on Alec’s reaction when he first walked in while Charlie was sleeping on his stomach the back isn’t unblemished and curiosity has Charlie reaching for a hand mirror and turning around to look at his reflection. Sure enough there’s a mark on his shoulder, and when he pushes his boxers down there’s a matching one on his left ass cheek, right where his pretty boy’s mouth was.
If he knew Charlie was thinking about him being pretty, he’d probably punch him. That thought shouldn’t excite Charlie the way it does. Pretty hardly covers it. That guy was hands down the most gorgeous person Charlie had ever laid eyes on. He was also bossy, demanding and so damn easy to rile up. He was fun as fuck to tease with his grumpy glare and his petulant arm crossing.
Equally enjoyable was the way he took what he wanted from Charlie. Shoving him onto his art desk and taking Charlie apart with every touch had been erotic. More than that, it thrilled some part of Charlie that is usually dormant during sex.
Since the day Charlie realized he was never going to find a partner okay with not being his most important person, he’d turned to casual sex. It felt really fucking good, and it was fun and easy. Once people only saw Charlie as a slut, they stopped expecting more from him emotionally, allowing him to prioritize the two most important things in his life—his art and Andrew.
In the last decade, he’s had everything he could want: copious sex without attachment, a flourishing career in art, and his brother at his side. He’s not lacking for anything, and Charlie knows he’s damn lucky.
Back in college, he’d tried dating a few times, but both times his partners hadn’t been okay with Andrew always being included. It wasn’t like Charlie brought Andrew on all theirdates, but when it was just hanging out or making plans, there wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving his brother out. Unfortunately, they’d wanted all of Charlie’s time, wanted to be his number one and for him to be willing to drop Andrew. That was never going to fucking happen. He’s learned since then that people fall into two categories—jealous of his bond with Andrew or assuming their bond translates to something sexual. Even if Andrew wasn’t ace, that wasn’t ever gonna happen. Since then, he’s contented himself with gratuitous sexual gratification without commitment.
Arching his back, he twists, appreciating the red marks that were clawed down his body. He really does look like he was mauled by a bear, if that bear was some kind of grunge femboy with a glare that could melt ice and the prettiest eyes in the entire world. Shit, his eyes were beautiful, so bright blue and clear Charlie could look at them for days. He had a pretty mouth too, full pouty lips accentuated with double bottom lip rings and the snarkiest tongue. He can’t help but wonder what he might think of the marks he left today. Would he call Charlie his slut again? Leave more marks?
Thinking about him doing any of that to Charlie again has him half-hard. Doing his best not to think about long legs under a short skirt and pretty blue eyes, Charlie pulls his t-shirt on then runs a hand through his hair before leaving the bathroom. The last thing he wants is to take too long and risk Alec following through on his threat to sneak raisins in Charlie’s breakfast. He got what he thought was a chocolate chip cookie as a kid only to end with a mouthful of raisins, and he’s held a grudge against them ever since.
“I hope you’re making enough to feed an army,” Charlie bellows, his stomach making its desires known at the first whiff of butter. “I’m starving, Ally.”
“I made enough to feedgoodboys,” Alec shoots back.
The low hum of Theo’s voice can be heard through the open bedroom door, but he’s not nearly as loud as Alec or Charlie, so what he says is impossible to make out. Charlie tries to force on a smile, wishing he knew how to get over things. He’s tried. He says hi to Theo at family dinners and stuff. He’s not sure what more Alec wants. Even as he thinks that, he knows. Alec doesn’t just want Charlie to get along with Theo, he needs it, which is why Charlie is going to be on his best behavior. Well, for that reason and because of the pancakes. Alec’s blueberry pancakes are Charlie’s favorite thing in the world and—his thoughts switch gears when something bright pink under his bed catches his eye.
Bending down, his fingers curl around the plastic beads. He knows exactly who this bracelet belongs to. His mystery man must’ve lost it when Charlie convinced him to come inside and rail Charlie one last time in his bed. He can’t even be surprised neither of them noticed it falling off given the intensity of their fornication.
Pleasure thrums through Charlie, his body recalling every moment with clarity. Last night was fun.
Turning the bracelet over in his hand, he takes in the little letter beads. Ella. Is that his name? It fits better than Ron or Eugene. A genuine smile spreads across his face. Charlie’s very own Cinderella boy. He’d certainly run out before midnight, no name or phone number, still leaving Charlie with nothing but a lost trinket to prove last night was real.
“Are you fucking coming?”
“I’m coming,” Charlie answers, slipping the bracelet on his wrist. It’s tighter on him than it was on his Cinderella but then that’s no surprise. He had the most delicate wrists. The kind Charlie would love to hold in his hands, to draw his lips over, to—fuck.Usually getting fucked all night would be enough tokeep Charlie’s high sex drive at bay for a while. If anything, he’s hornier this morning than when he hasn’t been laid in a week.
Musing over his unfortunate morning predicament, he makes his way to the kitchen. Seated at the table is Theo, his back ramrod straight and his big hands curled around one of Charlie’s mugs. There’s a tightness in his eyes, his body language radiating discomfort in a way that makes Charlie feel a little guilty. It also makes him feel a little happy. Theo hurt Alec, he can handle a little awkward breakfast conversation. He might be petty, but it’s only when someone deserves it.
“Be nice,” Alec chastises, holding a plate stacked high with the thickest, fluffiest pancakes Charlie has ever seen.
“I am.”
“You’re making Theo uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine, Alec.”
“It’s not fine,” Alec counters, setting the pancakes down in front of Theo and not Charlie. It occurs to Charlie that maybe Andrew was right and part of his problem with Theo is that he comes first now. Charlie was always Alec’s favorite person, always his hero. He’s not anymore, and it maybe stings a little bit.
“Here’s the syrup,” Alec tells Theo, kissing the side of his head.
“Where’s my pancakes and kiss?” Charlie asks, dropping into the seat across from Theo. There’s a cup of coffee waiting for him, with the perfect amount of sugar and cream.
“I’m making more,” Alec answers, turning away from them and moving to the stove.
“Do you want mine?” Theo asks.
