Episode 5

The first problem was when they got to the hotel room.

"Oh," Charles said, opening the slightly recalcitrant door with his electronic key card.

"What?" Eugene asked, lugging their bags in.

Charles pointed at the large double bed in the center of the room, white sheets invitingly pulled back at one corner, chocolates on the pillows.

"At least there's chocolate," Eugene said.

"I'll call down for a roll-away," Charles said, moving to the phone.

The second problem was that the phone did not work.

"I'll go down to the desk," Charles said.

"What if someone hears you?" Eugene asked, unzipping his bag and hanging several suits in the hall closet. "So much for our fictitious relationship."

Charles frowned. "Is that a word?" he asked. "I thought it was fictitious."

"I think they're both words." Eugene looked over at Charles, who sat at the desk with the hotel phone tapping the Ramada Suites pen nervously on the Ramada Suites pad. "Do you have clothes for me to hang up?" he asked.

"In the big suitcase," Charles said. "They're sort of wadded up, I'm afraid. I don't quite have your sartorial standards."

Eugene unzipped the suitcase and several GQs folded open to the Calvin Klein underwear spread came tumbling out.

"Oh,"

Charles darted over and trying to grab them.

"I-- what are those doing -- I -- er --"

Charles could feel his cheeks burning. Eugene was giving him a very peculiar look.

Of course. Only one bed, a suitcase full of pictures of him in his underwear, he probably thinks you're some sort of horrible pervert who's going to jump him the instant the lights go out.

And now you're thinking about it.

Of course, I'm thinking about it. Did you see his feet?

Oh for God's sake, Charles. He's nice enough to go out of his way to do you a favor, God only knows why, he's lightyears out of your league, and you can't leave well enough alone.

"And here I thought you wanted me for my mind," Eugene said.

"Those aren't for me," Charles sputtered lamely. "I just -- I was going to leave them in the lobby for the unsuspecting."

"Only logical," Eugene said. "I'm your event arm candy, after all, aren't I?"

Charles felt that 'Yes' would be the wrong answer, but he couldn't quite lay his finger on why.

"Yes," he said. He became very aware that Eugene was not looking at him. "Er, no," he ventured.

The blue eyes snapped back to meet his and he felt something strange start dancing in the pit of his stomach. Like that space, slug must have felt after swallowing the Millennium Falcon. "You're my boyfriend of some time who happens to be event arm candy."

"Good," Eugene said. The room seemed to have been holding its breath. Now it released.

Then Eugene had managed to extricate Charles' extremely rumpled suit from the suitcase and was moving to hang it up.

"That's for tonight," Charles said, reaching for it.

"If you don't iron this before you wear it I'm not going to be seen in public with you."

"I'm bad at ironing," Charles said. "Anyway, I hear the rumpled look is professorial."

Eugene shuddered. He found an ironing board in the closet and located an iron on the top shelf. "Thank goodness you're cute," he muttered, laying the suit pants out on the board and beginning a meticulous once-over with the iron.

Charles found that he was grinning like an idiot.

He went to the restroom and shut the door. He washed his face but the smile stayed.

It's sarcasm, Charles. Don't be a lecherous moron. If you can just keep your foot out of your mouth, we ought to survive this.

"How long have we been dating?" Eugene yelled.

"A year?" Charles shouted back, washing his hands.

"Just over or just under?"

"Just over."

"All right."

Charles went back out and watched Eugene finish ironing the suit jacket.

"So what's the game plan this evening?" Eugene asked.

"Once we get the beds sorted out," Charles said, "there's a cocktail hour in the hotel bar."

"Ah."

"Gird your loins."

Eugene lifted the iron and gazed contentedly at his handiwork. "Absolutely." He looked at Charles. "Well, get changed, then."

Charles picked up the suit and was heading back into the bathroom to change.

"Oh for God's sake, Charles," Eugene said. "I need to wash up and it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Charles flushed. "I'll only be a minute."

"You're joking," Erik said.

Charles was assiduously trying to avoid eye contact.

"Charles, you don't actually --"

"I was hoping to be a little more, well, buff, come this reunion," Charles muttered. "In high school, I was at least in shape."

"Charles, of all the asinine things I've ever heard--" Eugene began.

"Fine." Charles was blushing from ear to ear.

Then Charles was tugging off his pants and hopping awkwardly around with the cuff stuck over one shoe, finally rolling the pants leg up and extricating the shoe and kicking the pants off, and when he looked over at Eugene the other man was having difficulty containing his mirth.

"Oh, don't pretend that's never happened to you," Charles said.

"Never." Eugene stepped into the bathroom.

Charles shot him a look. As he bent over to tug on the suit pants he had the distinct sense that Eugene was staring at -- He can't possibly be. No, he is. He absolutely is.

Charles stood up slowly and with a little more fanfare than was strictly necessary, and all of a sudden Eugene was intently looking at almost anything else in the hotel room. You're embarrassing yourself, Charles thought. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tugged on another clean one, pulling the suit jacket on over it.

He settled on the bed and began flipping through the channels on the television, less from interest than from the desire to have anything to do with his hands. Cooking. Angry cooking. Some sort of informative program about sharks.

"That's better," Eugene said, emerging from the bathroom.

Oh good God, why isn't he wearing a shirt?? Raven, I hate you! Raven, I'm not thinking in complete sentences but this was a horrible idea. Raven I'm going to eviscerate you for God's sake don't take your pants off!!! Oh God, aquatic life I'm very interested in aquatic life -- God it looks like he's got a nuclear warhead stuffed in his shorts -- marine life is fascinating -- this is a problem, Charles -- oh thank God, pants -- how does he look this good all the time? God bless you Raven I'm going to kill you.

"Good suit," Eugene said abruptly. "Brings out your eyes."

"Raven picked it out." Charles found himself staring intently at the sharks. He felt rather like chum. "She has credit for almost all the minor successes of my life."

"What was she like in high school?" Eugene asked.

"What do you think? Everyone loved her. She fit in with everyone. Nice with the nice girls. Mean with the mean girls. Meanwhile, I stuck out like a sore thumb with everyone."

"No point blending in," Eugene said, sitting down next to him and beginning to put on a tie. "Not when you're you."

"Even with the math team," Charles said, trying to ignore the way his stomach had just chosen to go all light and fluttery. "Who doesn't fit in on the math team, for God's sake? Everyone's welcome on the math team. Even Jimmy Melloy and he had a neck brace and said the answer to everything was pi."

"Was he ever right?"

Charles grinned. "Twice."

"Even a stopped clock." Eugene reached over and began fastening Charles' tie before he could say anything in protest. "Maybe you were too attractive for the math team," he said, deft fingers drawing the cloth through the loop.

"I assure you it wasn't that," Charles said, thinking for perhaps the eightieth time what a terrible idea this had been. "They needed me for long division but no one ever gave any indication of wanting to multiply."

Eugene snorted, finishing the knot. "Or form an improper fraction?"

"Hardly."

"Pity." Eugene straightened his collar. "Their loss."

"Dear," Charles said, "You're awfully kind, but stop it. Save it for downstairs." He shuddered involuntarily. "We'll need it."

On the screen, a shark was biting a struggling fish in half. "Oh look," Eugene said. "There you are in tenth grade."

Charles couldn't help grinning. "Nonsense," he said. "I had far worse acne."

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