Page 1 of Break the Rule
1CHARLIE
Voices dragCharlie out of a deep sleep, his limbs heavy and his synapses firing slowly. While Charlie might be a light sleeper, roused by the faintest noises, that doesn’t make it easy for him. Being awake and functioning are two entirely different things.
Judging by the soft light peeking through the gap in his curtains, it’s not a time of day Charlie would normally be awake. Memories of last night return as his brain finally settles into wake mode, but his new awareness only brings questions when he turns to look at the empty space in the bed beside him. He definitely had sex last night. With someone. Emma, or was it Amber? Names weren’t exactly at the forefront of his mind. Whatever her name, she was definitely here when he fell asleep.
Stumbling out of bed, he grabs his discarded boxers from the night before and one of his shirts off the pile on his chair in the corner where he puts his ‘not quite clean enough to put in the closet but not dirty enough to wash’ shirts. Semi-dressed, he shoves his feet into a pair of fuzzy, hot pink slippers and makes his way down the hallway, his confusion morphing into something decidedly less tepid when he gets close enough to hear the conversation.
“If you’re not going to join us, it’s probably better if you leave.” Emma—yes, it was definitely Emma—puts her hand on Andrew's arm, ignoring the way he takes a step back. As if sensing Andrew’s unease, his elderly dog Birdie ambles out from beneath the dining table, quiet as ever, placing herself at Andrew’s side as if she can protect him. “Unless you changed your mind? I’ll make it fun for you if you do.”
“I have absolutely not changed my mind,” Andrew affirms, taking another step backwards. He bends down to skim his fingers over the top of Birdie’s head, though whether to soothe her or himself is unclear.
Despite it being a stupidly early hour, Charlie’s twin brother is already dressed in a pair of neatly ironed khakis and a seafoam green polo shirt. Judging by the waves in his hair, it’s been freshly washed, though slightly untamed now that he’s finally taken to not wearing gel in it. He looks put together and perfect, as always. He also looks uncomfortable, and Charlie’s hackles rise as he steps into the kitchen.
“He doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, sweetheart.”
“Charlie, you’re awake.” Emma smiles, and it’s impossible to deny how pretty she is. That beauty becomes an ugly stain the second she speaks again. “I was just telling your brother here how it would be better if he left. No one wants a third wheel.”
There is nothing Charlie hates more than people treating Andrew like he’s an inconvenience. Especially in Charlie's home, a place that has always, and will always, be a second home for his brother. Sometimes Charlie wishes Andrew still lived with him, but he understands why he moved out when he did, his twin’s need for quiet and order at constant odds with Charlie’s chaotic lifestyle and home. Thankfully, despite living in his own place, Andrew still spends most of his time when he’s not at work at Charlie’s house, and Charlie isn’t going to let anyone change that.
“Andrew is never a third wheel.” Charlie moves across the room to place himself between Emma and Andrew since it’s clear Andrew is too polite to get out of this situation. Andrew is a goddamn people-pleasing asshole, and it makes Charlie want to rip his hair out sometimes. Thirty-two years on this planet, and Andrew still can’t tell people to stick it where the sun don’t shine, or even use a more polite version since Andrew has better manners than Charlie.
“I offered to let him join us, but he said no.” She pouts in a way that he suspects is meant to make him feel bad but only makes him frown, imagining how uncomfortable that must’ve made Andrew. This is why he doesn’t usually let his one-night stands sleep over. This is not the first time someone has decided that he and Andrew are some kind of joint package. While they are admittedly slightly codependent and do everything together, that does not include sex, and not only because Andrew is ace, but because the idea of sex with his brother around makes him gag.
In hindsight, Charlie should’ve called her a ride when they finished, but they’d been at it until the early morning. It had seemed rude to kick her out. He wishes he had now. Rude Charlie trumps uncomfortable Andrew, always.
“I don’t want to fuck my brother,” Charlie adds, needing the boundary to be clear.
“I didn’t say you had to, silly. I was going to let you both take turns withme.” Emma smiles. “But Andrew is no fun, he said no.”
Like a fire doused in water, every ounce of attraction he had toward Emma goes poof. The most unattractive thing in the world is someone putting down someone he loves, particularly Andrew.
“Emma, last night was fun, but you’re going to need to leave.”
Emma’s expression is unreadable. “But?—”
“I’ll get you an Uber if you need a ride,” Charlie offers, leaving absolutely no room for discussion. Anyone who makes Andrew uncomfortable isn’t welcome in his home or his bed.
“I can get my own ride,” she shrugs. “I had a good time last night. If you ever want a repeat, you know where to find me.”
Nothing in the world could make Charlie bring her back to his home again after this morning, but Andrew has drilled enough social niceties into his head that he doesn’t say that, though his feelings are likely clear in the way he hurries to help her get her stuff so she will leave. It’s not until she’s gone, the front door locked and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen that Charlie relaxes.
“Sorry about that,” Charlie says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island and watching Andrew turn all the mugs on his mug shelf until the handles all face the same direction. Charlie couldn’t give a flying fuck which way his cups face, and sometimes when his brain is deprived of dopamine he messes them up so Andrew will argue with him. This morning is not one of those mornings, and Charlie treads carefully.
“She was wrong, you know. You’re not boring.”
“I am and that’s fine.”
“You’renot,” Charlie grits out, wishing he could go back to the night before and change things so he came home alone. He hates that someone made Andrew feel bad, hates it more because he’s the one who brought that someone into his home.
“You must’ve had fun last night,” Andrew says, filling Birdie’s water dish and food bowl before moving on to straightening the dish towels that hang from Charlie’s oven handle.
“I always have fun,” Charlie reminds him, moving around Andrew to get two mugs down from the cupboard since he can smell the pot brewing. One of his cats streaks by in a blur of black fur as he starts making their coffee, extra milk for Andrewand double sugar in his own mug. “Would’ve been more fun if you’d come.”
“I had a headache,” Andrew says.
“You could come tonight. The show is all weekend. There’s free food.”
“For someone with a comfortable middle class income, you sure love free stuff.”
