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he-is-in-my-pants · 1 month ago

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LIQUID COURAGE

pairing: Charlie walker x ftm!reader

word count: 3178

warnings: kissing/making out, underage drinking, reader wears a binder, loooots of talking and thinking about feelings, no mentions of the murders (do with that what you will), Charlie is confused about his sexuality, kinda mentions Kirby x Charlie in the past?, trans angst based on my own experience

authors note: I didn't find anything more creative than a game of spin the bottle, forgive me. also this is my first fic ever, so support is appreciated :)

The kitchen air smelled of stale beer, flat soda and boredom. Outside, everything looked still, frozen in time, in stark contrast to the high pitched scream streaming in from Kirby’s living room, the flickering lights of the gory slasher movie Robbie had insisted the group rewatched, as he did at least three times a year. In an attempt to flee the overwatched dialogues and murders, you had escaped to the dark kitchen, taking as long as possible to grab a soda from the well-stocked fridge. Everybody else seemed absolutely enthralled by the flashing images, Robbie above all and, sadly, Charlie too. You had only come to this “party” (not really a party) as an excuse to spend time with the boy, but you’d barely had a chance to speak to him, he’d already been at Kirby’s side when you’d arrived, and he hadn’t left it at all. Boredom had slowly seeped in, and while trying to sneak glances at Charlie and somewhat look interested at what was going on in the movie, you’d finally sneaked off into the kitchen, after a mumbled excuse about being thirsty.

You leaned against the counter, taking a sip of soda, looking through the darkness at Charlie’s sharp features, at his eyes fixed towards the screen, mesmerized by the blood on-screen. You rubbed your eyes, sighing, wincing as the edge of your binder dug into your ribs. How could you have been so stupid as to hope for his attention when you knew that the boy was pining for Kirby, the blond angel. You couldn’t hate her, she was an absolute sweetheart, one of the first to accept your transition, the first to defend you, the first to invite you anywhere, and specifically tonight, she’d offered to let you stay the night, and offer that you’d graciously accepted, eager to get away from home. You understood Charlie: Kirby was probably one of the best people in this town, and one of your closest friends.

But you were starting to regret your decision of even coming, you felt completely forgotten and out of place. You finally made your way back to the living room just in time to see Robbie pause the movie near the end to explain a useless detail of the plot, one that he’d already underlined in the past. His remarks were accompanied by a disgruntled chorus of disappointment and a throw pillow chucked at his face by an annoyed Jill. You chuckled softly at the odd scene unfolding in front of you and went to plop down on the far end of the couch, when Kirby spoke up in your direction:

“Cmon, sit here, next to me!”

She scooched over, leaving a gap between her and a panicked-looking Charlie. A million thoughts crossed your mind in that moment, and most of them either included running away or passing out.

“No, don’t worry, I’m fine where I am,” you managed to force out.

“Nuh-uh, as host, I demand you sit next to me,” she joked. Since she didn’t seem to want to let it go, you dragged yourself over and plopped down on the couch, hoping Charlie wouldn’t be too pissed at you sitting between him and his longtime crush. You didn’t even dare look in his direction, and anyway, Robbie was already shushing everyone as he resumed the movie.

The end of the movie was a blur, you’d seen it so many times that you spent your time curled up on the sofa, refusing to look at Charlie for more than a second at a time, mostly letting your mind wonder as to what could be, but never would.

Charlie was straight, you knew that. You also knew that he liked Kirby. You were gay, everybody knew that. And most importantly, like a blaring neon sign above your head, to your dismay, you were trans. It wasn’t easy feeling accepted, especially in such a small town where everyone knew everyone. You’d lived in Woodsboro forever, people had known you as the little girl grappling for her femininity, dressed in the frilliest dresses, hair falling to her waist. Seeing you grow into a boy, then a young man, was odd to them. It took a while for people to accept your transition, and though you’d found lots of allies and friends, you’d also discovered how horrible certain people could be. In short, it was difficult. You were sick of the comments, the stares, the judgement. You’d rather people just kept ignoring you, it would be softer on everyone that way.

Charlie was a person who you’d not interacted with enough to know what he thought. In hopes of saving yourself the humiliation, you stayed mostly away from the boy you liked, you pined from afar, and he never made a step in your direction, no matter how hard you hoped. Tonight was a last resort, and clearly, it wouldn’t amount to much.

You snapped out of your rêverie as the final credits began to roll, and you felt Kirby stir beside you. Robbie seemed ready to immediately play another movie, but Kirby stopped him easily with a single glare. She stood up, turned on some soft lights, and spoke loud, overtop the other conversations.

“Let's play some games. This doesn't feel like a party.” She stared pointedly at Robbie, who was too busy rifling through her movie collection to notice. The blond grabbed an empty bottle from a nearby table and waved it around. Jill turned to face her.

“Spin the bottle? What are we, thirteen?”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.”

Everyone seemed to agree with Kirby, except you, but you didn’t dare speak up. Instead, you slipped away to seek refuge in the kitchen again. As you walked past the girl, she seemed to want to say something, but a pleading look from you convinced her to stay quiet. She followed away from the others, into the kitchen.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine… party games aren’t really my thing, sorry,” you mumble back.

“Are you sure? It’ll be fun, I promise. Plus, it’s just us, you know everyone here.”

You glanced beyond her, at Charlie, who was sitting on the floor, talking with Robbie.

“It’s more for your sake… I don’t think many people are eager to kiss me.”

“So what? No one here wants to makeout with Robbie and he’s still playing.”

“Yeah but he has an obnoxious ego.”

She giggled.

“True, but still. I think you should play.”

“I don’t think I have the guts for that, Kirby.”

“I have a remedy for that.”

She walked to the fridge and came back brandishing a bottle of beer, looking exceedingly proud of herself.

“Your solution is beer?”

“Liquid courage.”

You smiled against your will. Her good mood was infectious, bleeding out onto your skin and into your heart.

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Maybe.” She smiled childishly. “Alright, yeah, I am. But can you blame me? You’re a very fun drunk.”

“Kirby, I-”

“Oh shush, you’re sleeping over, right?”

“I guess.”

“Then drink.” She practically shoved the bottle in your hands. “Cmon, you’ll have fun.”

Reluctantly, you took a sip of beer and followed Kirby back into the living room, where everyone was sitting in a circle.

“Jesus, this looks like a cult,” you mumbled. In the corner of your eye, you caught Charlie smiling at your comment, and you felt your heart swell. You plopped down on the floor, between Kirby and Olivia, directly across from the boy, and took another sip of beer. It wasn’t hard liquor, but you were drinking on an empty stomach, and you were tired, so you could already feel a fuzzy warmth spreading through your body.

Still, you crossed your fingers that the bottle didn’t land on you, you’d rather not be involved than see the look of disgust on Charlie’s someone’s face. The game took off, but you were too deep in thought, slowly growing tipsier, to notice much of what was happening. Suddenly, you heard someone call your name. Panicked, you looked up, thinking the bottle was pointing at you, but it was the second worse thing that could happen: it was your turn. There was a tense silence in the room and as you looked around at the hesitant faces, you mumbled:

“I should just skip my turn.”

A few faces relaxed, but Kirby frowned. She handed you the bottle.

“Cmon Y/N, it’s fine, just spin.”

You took the bottle from her hands and placed it in front of you. You glanced at Charlie, who seemed to be interested in everything but you, and with a deep breath, you spun the bottle. It seemed to go on forever, and you were growing dizzy from how hard you were staring at it, as if willing it to explode. It started to slow down, and you wished you could disappear. It stopped spinning, pointing straight ahead of you. You couldn’t even get yourself to look up, you didn’t want to see his face. But you had to.

You glanced at Charlie, and he looked absolutely bewildered. You saw him looking at Kirby, looking panicked, and you catch her shrugging. You opened your mouth to talk, but the alcohol made you slow, and someone beat you to it.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

It’s Trevor. Grade A asshole, you thought to yourself. But he was right. You nodded and mumbled an agreement. Charlie stayed quiet for a moment, then finally spoke up, directly at you.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just a game.”

And the world seemed to crash down around you.

“What?” Your tone betrayed your shock. He shrugged.

“I said I’d do it. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t. Everyone else played, it’s only fair.”

You nodded slowly; and Kirby gently pushed you to get up. You had a feeling she knew about your crush on the long-haired boy, even though you never mentioned it, and you silently thanked her for encouraging you to play. You slowly walked towards Charlie, staring at your feet, willing for time to stop and to go faster at the same time. You stopped in front of him, and you could feel everyone staring at you. You took a deep breath, and through the slight beer-induced haze, you leaned towards him. You were terrified. You were scared he’d regret, pull back, but no. He met you halfway, and you swore you heard someone gasp. His lips were dry, they tasted of soda and chapstick, they moved hesitantly, slowly. You felt his hand brush your waist softly, right before you pulled back, and you were sure you felt him chase your lips before straightening up and looking away. You bowed your head to hide your profuse blush and headed back to your spot next to Kirby, who was smiling excessively.

The game went on in a blur, neither you nor Charlie being called on again. Eventually, people started to break off and the game died down. You excused yourself and rushed upstairs. It was much quieter there, and you stepped into the guest bedroom you used when you spent the night at Kirby’s. Slumping on the bed, you took a minute to collect yourself.

Holy fuck.

Holy. Fuck. You could still taste Charlie on your lips, you could still feel him somehow. The kiss had lasted a fraction of a second, or a million years, you couldn’t tell. You looked at your reflection in the mirror in front of you, it felt like you were looking at another person. No physical differences, but something changed. It scared you how much one kiss with Charlie, in such an unserious context, had impacted you. The moment was replaying over and over again in your head. You couldn’t face him after that, you really couldn’t. You considered staying in here for a while, but you knew Kirby or another one of the girls would come get you eventually. So, after making sure that you looked presentable, you headed for the bedroom door, but as it swung open, you jumped when you saw someone standing there. Your heart rate tripled when you realised that it was Charlie. He seemed just as startled as you.

“Oh, hey… everything okay?” you managed to ask.

“Yeah, Kirby sent me to get you. She said she needed help with something.” You noticed he looked shy, a faint blush coloring his pale skin.

“I’ll be right there.”

He nodded and started to walk away, but stopped when he heard your voice.

“I’m sorry about earlier”

“What for?” He looked at you quizzically.

“The um… the game? The kiss,” you blurted out.

“You don’t need to apologize for that-”

“I know, it was just a game, but still, I’m sorry you were in that position-”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“I wanted it to happen. I liked it.”

The words vanished from your mouth, and you stared at Charlie, bewildered. You could feel your face go red.

“I’m sorry, what?” you finally managed to ask.

“I said I liked it.”

“And before that?”

“I was… was hoping for it.”

Nothing seemed to make sense. You ran a hand through your hair.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He started to walk away, and you wanted to say something, you really did, but you couldn’t get any words out, nothing coherent. You saw him disappear down the stairs, and cursed yourself for being so slow.

What had even happened? It must’ve been a hallucination, right? A sick image conjured up by your hazy, lovesick mind, to taunt you. There was absolutely no way Charlie had just said that he’d liked, that he’d wanted it. You rushed down the stairs, back down to everyone, scanning the faces. You found Kirby before finding the boy: she was all smiles and excitement. She rushed to see you, and you took a few steps in her direction.

“He’s outside, if you’re looking for him.”

Both of you knew who she was talking about.

“You knew?!”

“Of course I knew.” You stared at her, shocked.

“What? How?”

“I’m the only one who knows Y/N, don’t worry… I think even Charlie himself was confused.”

Things made even less sense now.

“I think you should go talk to him.”

“Fuck no… I can’t face him.”

“Sure you can. You have to.”

She seemed set on pushing you towards him, but you were too frazzled to do anything, let alone in Charlie’s general direction.

“Oh cmon, he’s just as nervous as you are yknow? It would be cute if I wasn’t getting frustrated at the fact that neither one of you wants to make a move. You have to do something.”

“I’ll fuck it up”

“You won’t.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re overestimating my skills Kirby.” She grabbed your forearm, gently pulling you towards the back door. You kept trying to free yourself, to convince her to let you go, but it was no use. The door was right in front of you.

“Kirby-”

“Y/N. He likes you. I know, he’s talked my ear off about it. You like him, obviously. What could go wrong?”

“So much could go wrong.”

“Nothing will, I’m sure.”

And with that she opened the door for you. With a last pleading look, you stepped outside. The porch seemed empty, but Charlie appeared from around a corner. He looked like an angel in the moonlight, pale skin, piercing eyes, hair almost glowing silver.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Hi”

Neither of you seemed to know what to say. A laugh tumbled from his lips, and you relaxed a little.

“Fuck um…” You looked away, the back at him. “I had no idea.”

“I wasn’t sure either. I just… felt something, I guess, but I didn’t really know what it was. I didn’t know I liked… boys.”

He’d called you a boy. It was stupid, but it meant everything. You could feel butterflies fluttering in your chest, between your ribs.

“What about Kirby?” you asked, still wondering about his alleged crush on your friend. He frowned.

“What about her?”

“Everyone seems to think that you like her.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking at you.

“I did. In the past.”

“Oh.”

“But we wouldn’t work. We’ve both established that.”

He looked away and started pacing, walking along the lines of the wooden porch.

“But we stayed friends. She’s the only person I told about… you”

“Oh wow.”

“I know.” He looked at you again. “She helped me figure things out.”

“I guess I have her to thank, huh.”

“I guess so.”

The air smelled sweet outside, vividly fresh in your throat and lungs, slowly bringing you out of the lethargic state you were in. You’d lost your beer at some point, but you’d drunk enough to be enjoyably tipsy and giddy, especially out here, alone with Charlie. You found yourself unable to hold his gaze without feeling your cheeks flush, so you let your gaze wander along the treeline, or towards the illuminated windows.

“Sorry,” you felt yourself mumble, “I’m not good at this shit, I’m making it awkward.”

The boy frowned, leaning against the banister.

“You’re not, don’t worry.”

“And sorry if the kiss was bad,” you added.

“It wasn’t.”

“And sorry for apologizing so much.”

He laughed softly at that.

“You’re forgiven.” Then, “So… that kiss.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I could do it better if you give me another chance.”

“I’d give you as many chances as you need”

And with that, his hands were firmly on your waist and his lips pressed against yours. He still tasted of chapstick, but something stronger tainted his lips, something inebriating and velvety, some of Kirby’s liquid courage probably. The kiss was messy and uncertain, but desperate. Both of you had waited and imagined and wished for too long to not enjoy this moment. You finally pulled back, breathing heavily, fire of the alcohol smeared on your lips, his grip tight on your abdomen, your arms resting on his shoulders.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much… but there’s room for improvement. Try again,” you answered, smiling slightly. He didn’t hesitate, pressing you against the banister, joining your lips again. Your lips dropped open, and you could feel him in your mouth, you could taste him, warm and heady. A soft sound escaped you, loud in the quiet of the garden, and you felt him smile. His hips were pressed against yours, and you grabbed his face to have something to hold on to, and in that moment, you could feel everything with such glaring reality that it all made sense, for once.

When, a while later, you both walked back inside with messy hair and swollen lips, pupils blown wide and giddy smiles on your flushed faces, not a single person could question what had happened outside. It all felt like a dream, but for once, it was real, his hand was in yours, hidden underneath the table, and nothing felt so bad anymore.

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