Wanna Get Ficced?

Sorry, no hawt, but there is slash?

***

Charlie shook his head. "It's not that." He leaned down and brushed his lips against Carlisle's, the coolness of the man's skin surprising in late August. He'd meant the kiss to be reassuring, but he pulled back quickly. "Geez, your skin's cool." He frowned, lifting a hand to feel Carlisle's forehead and cheek. "Are you all right?"

Carlisle sighed. "I'm fine, Charlie. I told you that I have a lower body temperature than most."

Charlie snorted. "There's a difference between being out of my head on some kind of experimental drug and being stone sober." He cupped his hands around one of Carlisle's and blew into them.

While Charlie had been joking, Carlisle's patient smile had slipped. "Yes," he said slowly, "there is. I truly am sorry--"

Charlie rolled his eyes and used one of his hands to cover Carlisle's mouth. "I was more than capable of saying no, Carlisle. All the drug did was make things seem... more intense. We've already talked about this."

"That may be," Carlisle said firmly, "but I had thought that I was better than that." A muscle twitched in Carlisle's pale jaw. "I should have been."

Charlie shrugged. "Everyone makes mistakes, Carlisle. It just means you're human."

It seemed like whatever Charlie had been doing tonight to try to be reassuring was having the opposite effect. Blue-grey eyes widened for a moment, and then Carlisle was pulling his hands away, taking a step back that Charlie had expected earlier. It didn't stop Charlie from feeling just a little colder, no matter what Carlisle's body temperature was like.

"Charlie, what are we doing?" Carlisle asked after a long moment.

Charlie frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are we doing?" Carlisle looked around the room, his eyes landing on the couch, the wine bottle in the metal bucket, the low, intimate lighting. "Is this going to be a one-night stand, or is it..." His voice trailed off, and he turned to look back at Charlie.

"Or is it going to be something more?" Charlie offered. When Carlisle nodded, Charlie shrugged. "I honestly don't know. The first time I saw you, I knew that I wanted to get to know you better, and the more we worked together...." He shook his head. "What is it that you want me to say, Carlisle?"

Carlisle shook his head, turning to the window. The moonlight bleached his pale skin, making him look like a marble statue come to life. "I don't know, Charlie. This would be much easier if this were just about sex."

Charlie frowned, surprised by the admission. "And it's not?"

Carlisle sighed through his nose before shaking his head again. "It isn't for me." He turned from the window, and looked into the low lighting, zeroing in on Charlie without any difficulty. "And for you?"

"I..." Charlie began, not sure what he was thinking or feeling, but knowing that being silent wasn't the way to go. "I'm not entirely sure."

Carlisle was quiet for a long moment, and then he turned back to the window, lifting his gaze to the full moon above. "I'm sorry."

Charlie frowned. "For what?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I shouldn't have pushed. This is still new for both of us. I've loved my wife for... a very long time."

"Hell, I still love my ex," Charlie pointed out, moving closer to the window sill and looking out. No matter what kind of cloud cover there was during the day, the night sky was always beautiful in Forks. "It doesn't mean that I can't get distracted sometimes."

Carlisle turned to look at him, his eyes dark and penetrating. "Distracted, Sheriff?" he asked, moving closer.

Charlie nodded. "Distracted," he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against Carlisle's.