Lovely Bastards (BxB) (MxM)

Chapter 2 - First Day of School

When Charlie limped through the door the next morning, Kit was waiting for him. 

He was hung over, and he was contrite. He'd be a better uncle. He'd be... Responsible. Um... Dependable.

Shit, had school already started?

What time is it? Charles thought, and glanced at his wristwatch -

Eight forty-five?

"Shouldn't you be at school?" he croaked, wincing at the way his voice sounded. 

He noticed that Kit was wearing his new school uniform - white shirt, dark green jumper and checkered slacks - but no tie, and his sneakers instead of black shoes. His shirt was unbuttoned, trousers rolled up, jumper tied about his waist. Charles blinked.

Since when did uniform regulations get this lax? He had gone to Catholic school, and from what he remembered...

His nephew raised one straight, dark eyebrow. "Never hurts to be fashionably late."

Then he gave him a slow once-over, and Charles felt himself flush up to his ears. He knew what he must look like - yesterday's clothes, the smell of booze clinging to him, bags under his eyes and bruised lips.

"On your first day?"

"'Specially then. Gotta make an entrance."

Kit pulled out one of the high chairs lining Charles's kitchen island, motioning for him to sit. He was too exhausted to protest, slumping into the seat.

Meanwhile, the younger man had pulled some kind of mixer out of one of his cabinets, and a bunch of stuff out of a fridge Charles was pretty sure had been empty yesterday. 

"You can cook?" He couldn't hide his surprise.

"Nope. But I can make a hangover cure."

He threw some ginger into the mixer, a whole peeled orange, brown sugar, and...vodka? Charles tore his gaze away - he didn't want to know. 

The sound of the mixer ripped through his pounding head.

"God, please, stop it..."

"Quit whining. Drink this."

He slammed down two glasses - one with tap water, the other bright orange - in front of Charles. 

"All of it. Oh, and here."

He pulled three little white pills, all different shapes and sizes, out of his pocket and placed them on the counter.

Ibuprofen, paracetamol, diazepam - valium, Charles thought.

Paracetamol put a strain on your liver, as did heavy drinking, and they were not a good combination - but did Kit know that? 

It's almost as if he's testing me...

But that was being paranoid. And wasn't diazepam prescription? 

He the valium, Kit watching him before turning back to the sink and washing out the mixer - very loudly, Charles thought. 

"You look a lot like her..." he murmured, without turning around. 

There was something in his voice, Charlie thought. But he was to hungover to make sense of it. A tightness to his shoulders maybe, an odd tone to his voice.

"Not as bitchy though."

"Kitty wasn't bitchy..."

"Sure she was."

"Well, does being a bitch run in the family?" Charles snapped, rubbing his throbbing temples. 

The words slipped out before he could bite them back. His nephew cast him a look over his shoulder, suds coating his hands.