technicallyhellbound | for @convincingsmile - Nobody's dying today (probably)

for @convincingsmile - Nobody's dying today (probably)

Edwin knew as soon as he fell through the mirror that something was wrong, and not just a little bit wrong, but the kind of wrong that made the whole world tilt on its axis a little.

It wasn't a misdirected portal, not like the case that had ultimately led them to Crystal, not like many other failures of concentration when traversing mirror portals before, it was something else, and he couldn't place what it was. All he knew was that he'd simply passed through the mirror in question and had landed, hard on the floor on the other side of the room, hard enough that he actually skidded a couple of feet and that couldn't be right because that actually hurt, and hurt in the way he hadn't felt in... well, decades.

It was enough to tumble him against the far wall just from his own momentum, impacting hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs, and that was definitely wrong, because he shouldn't have had breath or lungs. He could see, even through pain-hazed vision that the poltergeist he'd been baiting had, indeed, gotten caught in the trap he himself had leapt over when aiming for the mirror.

That was, however, the last thing he saw before the half-rotted-through loft floor gave way beneath his sudden and unexpected weight, sending him falling, flailing, scraped to ribbons on the broken slats, to the ground below, and he was reasonably sure he'd actually heard something snap on impact, ribs, if the sudden radiating pain was anything to go by, though his shoulder wasn't in good shape either, and that was an entirely different kind of pain, just layering on top of the feeling of the ragged scratches from the wood, and it occurred to him, dimly, that he'd forgotten how much he hated the feeling of blood on his skin.

It had been different in Hell, the pain, the sensations in general, all of it, it had been horrible, yes, but it was so much more visceral now, and even as his vision began to go hazy again, head swimming, his last thoughts were trying to remember how he'd somehow gotten separated from Charles, who had been barely a step behind him when he'd rounded the corner into the loft pursued by the poltergeist now trapped securely above him.

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With a mewling sound, Charles grabbed onto Edwin's hips, tilting him as he held his leg up. It gave him a slightly new angle and with how relaxed and hot Edwin felt around him, Charles thought he was going to go mad with pleasure.

"Edwin..." he moaned in a desperate tone when he got the 'permission' again. His body was so on edge; his actual body... It almost hurt but it was so, so good. Charles leaned his head down, pressing his forehead against Edwin's collarbone, kissing and sucking any skin he could reach that was but his mind was elsewhere. He felt like he was drugged, high and at the best place in his life. His moans were sobs, his movements fell out of rhythm but he kept going. Charles didn't want this to end, he wanted to feel it longer and longer, and more, and more...

His peak hit him like a bullet, wild and sharp shot down his spine; his cry was not entirely unlike of a cry of pain. He was riding the waves of his orgasm with his nose and a lips pressed into Edwin's skin, crying and moaning, because with every thrust it was getting better and worse, and Charles couldn't control it.

Charles wasn't sure how long he was still on top of Edwin, weeping softly, but it felt like a lifetime.

Oh oh but that felt the same and different all at once, it was hotter than he was used to, temperature wasn't really a thing as ghosts, but at the same time it was the right kind of too full that he'd gotten used to, and it was as easy as anything to just cling to Charles again as he collapsed, fingers stroking through his hair and down his back in slow, even passes.

He felt utterly wrung out, and while he knew they still had some time, he also knew he was going to need to actually recover in a way he didn't usually, but that was fine as well, because the prospect of just curling up with Charles after a shower, waiting for the end -so to speak- was a pleasant one as well.

It was when he felt Charles stir again, breathing finally settled into something more regular, that he pressed a kiss to the top of Charles' head, voice rough-edged, but undeniably pleased, "Alright, then?"

Charles slowly moved his head, but he found it too heavy, so he settled nuzzling at Edwin's neck.

"Proper," he said in a sniff. He squeezed Edwin tighter for a moment, as if he had trouble to let go, because he had. "D'ya think we hav' time for another go?" Charles wondered if he was being delusional. He did feel he needed to rest before going again and he hated it. If he could he would have went on to the point where they were no longer alive... But being alive, and having a body also meant their recovery time may have been longer. He wasn't sure. But then again, he never had such an orgasm before, not even when he was alive.

And if they rest, then the moment of their death would happen while in each others' arms still, so, that was also aces. Even if a little sad.

He hummed something that may have been agreement, angling his chin up to give Charles more space, fingers just kneading gently at the nape of his neck, "If we find we've recovered in time, I should certainly like to have another go, yes." His fingers toyed through Charles' hair again, "For one thing I'd like to ride you until my thighs give out."

It was a position they'd been in before, more than once, but ghosts didn't tire the way living bodies did, and he was curious to see if muscle strain felt like he remembered it, and more than that, curious to see if he'd even tire before they'd both finished again.

Another hum, "But if we haven't recovered, I won't be disappointed not to, you understand."

"Nnn..." Charles moaned as he imagined the sight of Edwin all flushed and hot and alive riding him. God, he would love that. His hips twitched as if they were ready but it was just a lie. "Yea', yeah I'd like that," he said nodding eagerly. And yet he could feel the pull of fatigue as Edwin was playing with his hair. It felt so different. So... warm.

He was silent a bit when Edwin mentioned that it was okay if it wouldn't happen.

"Yeah, I get it," he said a little hoarse. "I get it." He did get it, truly. His lurking sadness wasn't entirely about them making love, it was about something entirely else.

He gave Charles' head a gentle jostle with the hand already in his hair, "We should shower then, at least rinse off, this has been lovely, I assure you, but if I cool much further I'm going to feel gritty and that will make me want to chew concrete."

One of many things he still detested about having a physical body: sweat. It was tolerable -if barely- while it was still happening, but as soon as it began to dry it made him want to crawl out of his skin, much the same way chalk against his fingers did.

There was also the fact of his own spend still tacky between them, which was uncomfortable in a different way, but not one that bothered him quite so much.

Charles sighed, deep and relieved. He loved this. He didn't want to let it go... but he did love to shower too. So he tilted his head, moving to look at Edwin with the most lovesick puppy look.

"Right, shower, getting clean." He still hoped they could get dirty again, though. But, yes, he was going to hope that until the end of everything. So with another sigh, he pushed himself up and leaned in to catch Edwin's lips in a kiss again. "Let's go then, yeah?"

He stretched slowly, taking note of slight aches, but nothing to complain about -if anything he liked the reminders of what they'd been doing- and rolled to his feet, nose wrinkling just a little at that sensation, but offering Charles a hand up, "Yes, let's."

He was surprisingly unconcerned about going bare, since it was just across the hall, but it wasn't as if the building had any other residents, and if anyone else was still about, well it would serve them right.

With a groan, Charles was about to get up too, but then he got an eyeful of Edwin, naked and... all that. His skin was pink in some places, and he was messy. And, in all honesty, he had never looked more delicious. So Charles just sat there for a bit, staring without noticing himself. Only when he needed to take a breath, he realized that he had stopped breathing even... With a gasp, he got to his feet, clearing his throat as he joined Edwin.

Charles could not get his hands off of Edwin even in the shower. He didn't even pretend it was to help him clean up, no, it was just pure adoration and maybe a little obsession. Though, at the end he did discover the blessings and the curse of a hot shower after a long day. It made him feel just how exhausted he was.

For as much as Edwin wasn't entirely fond of physical contact, it was different when it was Charles, and it was even more different here and now, when he felt a little as if those touches were keeping him grounded, keeping him from drifting away too badly and shoring him up from just collapsing under the weight of his own -entirely happy- emotions.

Clean and still damp, Edwin did still manage to take the time to yank the soiled sheet off of the air mattress and shake out a clean one before sprawling out on it, all but dragging Charles down with him, tucking his head against Charles' shoulder, stifling a yawn with the back of his wrist, laughing softly after, "Might not get that second round after all."

He knew they still had some time, the shower hadn't taken that long, but he was feeling pleasantly drowsy, though not so much so that he couldn't rally, in the event that Charles was actually ready for another round himself.

"Mmnno, we will, we gonna," Charles said, fighting with a yawn too. He put his arms around Edwin, loving the weight of his body against his, the scent of his skin and hair after a shower, so clean and so... casual. And Charles had to repress a shiver of something else than arousal. "Just... gotta take a quick snooze. Quick one... yeah?" He is trying to convince himself. As if fatigue worked that way. But he had to admit that with Edwin in his arms, with a safe bed, near their office, after a tiring day and a mindblowing night... he was fighting a losing battle. But maybe a quick nap wouldn't hurt. Just an hour or so. They would have time after that... "Resting my eyes an' all," Charles added, his eyes already closing.

In those few minutes when he was still half-awake and could feel Edwin, he was the happiest person alive. And then, sleep claimed him, for far longer than a quick nap.

And when he jolts awake, he is in his true form; bruised and cold, in his undershirt, and for a split second, he has no idea where he is.

"Edwin?"

Edwin had simply made a quiet sound of agreement at each of Charles' gentle, rambling points, because yes, that was a perfectly good plan, just a quick nap to recoup some energy and then another round before the spell wore off.

He, likewise, dropped off to a full sleep before he'd fully realized it, despite only intending on a short nap.

It was fully dark when he woke again, certain he'd heard someone calling his name and likewise taking a moment to actually register where he was, not even realizing that he was also in the same state he'd been during his last stint in hell, but recognizing Charles' state almost instantly, holding out both hands instead of actually catching hold of him, "Oh Charles, I'm sorry."

Charles took one look at Edwin and his first thought was that they were back in Hell. And only the second was the realisation of what actually happened. He pushed himself up, sitting. His eyes were going wide as he was taking in Edwin's state, then he looked at his hands, too.

So they had no time... They fell asleep. It was supposed to be a quick nap. Charles opened his mouth to say just that but- Oh, he didn't have to take a breath. Being alive not long ago, and reverting back to being dead, and a ghost, was... it was a bit much. He could feel his stomach being upset, but he had none anymore. He couldn't get sick and yet he felt positively sick. He looked around, as if searching for an escape. He needed to get out of here, but- but Edwin- he couldn't leave him just like that, he couldn't.

"I... we..." Charles stuttered, his voice choking.

He did catch gently at Charles' arm then, levering himself to sit upright as he did, "We slept longer than we intended to, Charles, that's all." His fingers were light against Charles' shoulders, only just then realizing his own state, the grime under his fingernails, brow creasing slightly as he glanced down at himself, "Oh. Well that just won't do."

He should have realized that returning to their natural state would mean their initial -or in his case most recent- state as ghosts. It took more concentration than he remembered, putting himself back to rights, taking a slow, even breath as he did, despite not actually needing it. He flexed his fingers, relaxing a little as he felt the shift of clothes settling into place, sweeping a hand over his hair to put it back in place as well before resting both hands on Charles' chest, "Now, let's get you put together again, shall we?"

Charles just shook his head, but he wasn't sure exactly why. He watched as Edwin slowly put himself back together, clothes, and then the hair... All neat and tidy without the waves and life in those locks and Charles felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt Edwin's hand on his chest, but then again, he didn't really. Not after he knew how they would feel against his chest with a living heart in it.

"Edwin, I..." Charles started, shaking his head. "No, I..." he stuttered, pushing away and getting to his feet. They were dead again. They died again. And Charles suddenly wasn't sure how to feel. He thought they had more time. He thought he could do more things together. "I don't..." he stuttered, feeling his eyes burn with tears.

His brow creased more and more deeply with each of those false starts, not sure what to think. He could count the number of times he'd known Charles to be at a loss for words on one hand, and he'd never been sure what to do those prior times, either.

So, tone gentle, entreating, and hand still flat against Charles' chest he just asked, "Talk to me, Charles, please? I can't..." His mouth twisted in the way it does when he was stopping himself from saying something harsher than he intended, "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. I want to help."

Charles tried to take a breath to not choke, but he could feel he wasn't drawing in air. He was just imitating it. His tears weren't real either; his existence was half erased once again. But then how could it hurt this much?

"I don't want to be dead, Edwin," he said, bursting out crying. "I didn't want to die," he cried. "And now I had to- it happened again..."

Oh.

So it wasn't something he could help with.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying, just shaking his head as he gathered Charles close against his chest, chin resting atop his head, mind already going over whether he had the power needed to recreate the spell, reasonably sure he did, given all the work he'd put into reverse-engineering it, but as with any spell, there would be limitations, 24 hours, once a year on a specific date, and until he knew for sure that he could replicate it, he wasn't going to breathe a word, false hope would be worse than the current crushing disappointment.

So instead all he said was: "I know." Some part of him wanted to explain that it wasn't that Charles had died again, it was just that the mortality had always been temporary, but he knew that wouldn't be a comfort to Charles the way it would be to him.

"I wan'ed to be alive with you, together with you..." Charles cried clinging to Edwin and pressing his face into his shoulder. The more he realized he wasn't alive, that he had lost the body he had the worse it got. And he couldn't stop it, the crying.

Now that he knew how it would be being alive, and being together with Edwin... It was horrible. He had dreamed about it, imagined it, but then he could live it. And it was... everything he wanted. And even if he knew it wasn't forever, it still hurt to wake up to their reality. And even Charles didn't expect that.

Edwin definitely knew better than to say that wouldn't have been an option even if they wanted it, because for a short while it had been, and they hadn't known it was only temporary at first.

He pressed a kiss to the top of Charles' head, "I know." While it wasn't a feeling he shared, vastly preferring being a ghost -though he couldn't really say he liked being dead it was more the circumstances than anything- he knew that it was important to Charles.

The same way he knew that explaining how many more people they could still help wouldn't actually help Charles right then. It was occurring to him, and not for the first time, that he really didn't know how to comfort much of anyone, but especially Charles, who more than anyone he should have known what to say to make him feel better, but the things Edwin found comforting about their usual state were the things Charles hated, so he only said, "I know." Again, gathering Charles all the closer.

Charles was too deep into his grief to see the good that came with their existence. The good that came with getting to know Edwin. Charles was glad for it all, he wouldn't change it for the world. He also knew Edwin liked being a ghost, living was a burden to him, something he let go a long time ago. But right now, all Charles felt was... just the loss of their lives.

He clung to Edwin, clawing at his jacket as he was trying to keep himself together, and failing.

It took Charles a while to calm down, and he needed to cling to Edwin through it. Otherwise, he suspected it would have been worse. Even after he stopped crying he didn't let go of the other. He closed his eyes, taking a useless breath, feeling like he would float away if he let go.

"Sorry," he croaked when he could speak.

Edwin just held him, if all he could do was be an anchor or a shore to beat himself against until the emotion ran out, then that was what he could do, just rocking slowly, letting Charles' emotions run their course.

He ran his fingers through Charles' hair again at the apology, giving a little shake of his head, "You've nothing to apologize for, Charles. I know this..." There was that little twist to his mouth that meant he was trying to find a better way to say something, "I know it isn't what you would have chosen."

At Edwin's words, Charles put his arms around him tighter, as if to keep him there, as if Edwin would leave now that he so clearly indicated that he... hated being dead.

But that was the thing, he didn't hate being dead, not like that. He loved being with Edwin, he was the best thing that happened to him, the agency, the afterlife they carved out for themselves.

Truly, Charles didn't choose to die, but he chose to be with Edwin. It was his decision and Edwin let him.

"...I chose you, didn't I?" Charles sniffed. It wasn't an accusation, more like a reassurance.

Edwin's smile was soft and undeniably warm, settling into that tighter hug with a hum of agreement, "Yes, I suppose you did." There was definite amusement in his voice as he added: "Didn't give me much say in the matter, as I recall."

That same amusement held as he lifted his head to where he could actually see Charles' face, making it clear that he wasn't at all objecting to that fact, especially as he added, "Though, I suppose that's my own fault for only giving token arguments at best."

It wasn't like Charles felt there was anything to do in the moment he decided to go with Edwin. He clung to the only thing that made him smile and feel safe. He didn't exactly know that it would bloom into love soon, but it did.

Charles moved his head too, eying Edwin as he answered. God, he loved him so much. He wished he could give him the world... but wasn't that selfish? The world was alive in Charles's eyes, and they were dead... and Edwin didn't want the world of the living. So maybe Charles wanted the world for himself, with Edwin in it. He smiled either way, tears rolling down his cheeks, leaning in to brush his lips against Edwin's.

"Can we stay like this a bit more?" he asked quietly. He didn't feel he was ready to just walk out of here yet. It would make it more real, that he was a ghost again.

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