Page 67 of Don't Let Me Go
“Yeah?”
“Can we?”
I don’t have to ask what he means.
“All right,” I say, shooting him a grin. “Since it’s your birthday.”
Charlie blushes in the moonlight. Then he slides down to my end of the tub and gently climbs on top of me. His legs straddle my hips ashis arms wind ’round my neck. I run a hand through his damp hair and trace my fingers over his ears and down his throat.
Charlie closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. I can tell he’s nervous. He’s always nervous, even after all these years. I take his left hand and kiss it, then the right, and then I place both his hands over my heart.
“Happy birthday, Charlie Dawes,” I whisper.
Charlie lowers his lips to mine and fills my mouth with kisses.
I guess you could say this is something else I’ve gotten used to.
Not that you’ll catch me broadcasting that fact to the world. I mean, it’s nice, innit? But it’s not exactly the sort of thing you want getting out. I’ve enough to deal with trying to make it from one day to the next without people giving me dirty looks or whispering rotten names behind my back.
But that’s the thing about Charlie. With him, it don’t feel dirty. Mad as it sounds, it feels clean. Pure. Sometimes I think it’s the purest thing in my life.
Even so, Charlie still asks my permission every time. He knows this don’t come natural to me the way it does to him. Though if I’m being honest—like, proper honest—there’s nothing he could ask of me that I’d ever refuse him. Refusing him would be like refusing happiness. And who’d be daft enough to do that?
“Am I your boy?” Charlie asks, panting, between kisses.
His hunger for me fills me with my own hunger. A hunger to always be with him. Like this. With him in my arms. A hunger to keep him safe and never let him go.
“You’re my boy,” I whisper, almost breathless.
“For always?” he presses.
“For always,” I promise.
I mean it too. Charlie might’ve chosen me first that day he followedme home from the market. But I’ve chosen him every day since. And I’ll never stop choosing him. Because there is no choice. We’re Jack and Charlie. We’re forever.
“Why haven’t they sounded the all-clear?” Charlie asks, cocking his head to the wind as we haul our loot over Waterloo Bridge. We’ve been making our way to our digs for a while now, and aside from the wail of the air-raid sirens, the night is quiet, and the sky is empty. There’s not a plane in sight.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Almost midnight.”
“They’ll be sounding the all-clear soon enough, then,” I say, shifting the weight of the sack on my back from one shoulder to the other.
Between the wine, the books, and the trinkets, Charlie and I made quite the haul tonight. All we’ve got to do is find someone to take this loot off our hands at the market tomorrow, and we’ll be sitting pretty for weeks. We can ditch the dump we’ve been dossing in and find ourselves a proper room to rent. Maybe somewhere with our own private bath so we can have ourselves a repeat of tonight whenever we fancy.
“Look at those colors,” Charlie says, leaning against the railing to peer down the river where Southwark and Tower Bridges are still burning. Fire crews are trying to put out the blazes as ribbons of flames paint the purple sky with slashes of orange and gold.
“It’s sort of beautiful, isn’t it?” Charlie asks, the distant fires flickering in his eyes.
I can’t help smiling. I know the world’s gone mad. I know people are dying, and not just here in London. I should be angry or frightened. But standing here, watching the colors dance across the sky, I feel nothing but peace. Because I have what the rest of the world doesn’t. I have Charlie.
“Oi, before I forget, I nabbed you something,” I tell him as I dig his present out of my pocket. “Happy birthday.”
Charlie’s eyes go wide as he stares down at the book I nicked off a bedside table.
“AMidsummer Night’s Dream! You found it! Thank you, Jack!”
Charlie throws his arms around me and crushes me in one of his wiry hugs. I don’t normally go in for such public displays of affection, but as there ain’t much public about, I don’t see the harm.
