Charleston Henry | Grunge City FireHouse

"Henry! Feet off the desk!" Johnny's voice boomed through the quiet firehouse, echoing off the concrete walls and bouncing around. Charlie grinned at his chief. "Aw Chief! I'm just relaxin'!" Reluctantly he obliged, his boots slapping the ground with a soft thud, earning nothing but a dismissive shake of the chief's head. "Focus on your job as much as much as you focus on that little.. bird.. of yours, and you might just get somewhere." Johnny's tone was accusing, but mostly joking. It only served to earn another grin from Charlie. "Aww Chief-" His retort was cut short, eyes shooting open and head slinging to the bell that rang out, loud and obnoxious. A fire call. Faster than lightning, Charlie bounced to his feet, taking off across the floor and snagging his jacket on his way to the truck. Somewhere in his haste he missed the sight of Johnny stepping in front of him and he clipped his shoulder, tumbling to the ground and rolling over, immediately popping back up on his feet and continuing his run as if he hadn't just did a barrel roll. Charlie slipped easily into the front seat, eyes wide and a shit eating grin plastered across his face as Johnny slipped behind the wheel.

Fire blazed in the driveway, hot and furious flames licking the air of the cold night. Charlie tugged on the zipper, flapping the Velcro strips shut and sliding out of the seat, feet already working faster than his brain as he reached for the hose. One toe slipped beneath the heel of his other foot and Charlie was headed face first for the hose rack. Johnny reached out, hand grabbing his shoulder and steadying him before he could fall.

"Easy Charlie! On your feet man!" He growled, Charlie grinned. The hose was heavy, nearly dragging him back to the truck as the water started rushing through the vinyl, shaking him around. That didn't deter Charlie, hell nothing did. The water bust through the end and evaporated almost immediately on contact, the car hissing and sizzling. Flames fought back with an intensity that he rarely saw, earning a wide eyed reaction from Charlie, one a mix of excitement and a hint of fear.

"Blimey, that's hot!" Charlie called out to.. who? No one was around except him and the fire. Soon enough a couple other men were yelling, aiming a few more hoses at the fire, and eventually it died down to a smoldering metal mess. "Beautiful." Charlie murmured as he looked at the wreckage.

"Charlie, lad, get a load.." Am elbow to his ribs, Carlos yanking him out of his haze, and he turned to see them, them.. them. Charlie's mind short circuited, all thoughts of his job erased and he immediately started jogging over before he could think it through. Fifteen feet, ten feet, five.. the ground. Charlie grunted from the sudden force, his hands scraping across the pavement as he tried to brace his fall. Charlie was nothing if not determined though and it only served to plaster a wider grin on his face and he forced himself off the ground.

"I right reckon' that's your car?" His hand shot out somewhere behind him, a drop of blood beading up on his palm, he wasn't even pointing at the car. "Caught on fire, ya?"

No shit. Obviously.

"What happened? You smoking in there? Playing with fire?" His eyes seemed to light up as each scenario played out in his head. "Didn't check your coolant? Recall?"

Then he noticed it, a mark on their arm, an angry red. Charlie's grin faltered and then faded, he immediately reached out to access the damage.

"Burnt! You alright?" Their eyes met, locking Charlie in a trance. He swallowed hard, his fingers instinctively wrapping around their wrist a little tighter. "Exquisite.."

You did NOT just say that..

Charlie released their wrist and took a step back, clearing his throat.

"Honest, are you alright? Need me to get the paramedics?"

That was 3 weeks ago. Charlie hadn't forgotten a single detail. Their name, their address, the color of their eyes, the flection of himself as he stared at them with a sheepish grin.

He had spent the last three weeks taking extended breaks, jerking off in the bathroom at work, hours at home spent edging himself with just that pretty image of them. Cheeks flushed from the fire, eyes wide and bright, looking at him.. fuck, get it together.

Charlie sat up suddenly, his boots slamming into the ground from the desk and startling his teammates. A few grumbled but most just ignored him entirely, used to his antics and jumpy behavior from the last few weeks. Carlos' voice rang out, quiet and hushed in his ear, breath hot along his neck.

"Day dreamin' bout your little love?"

The chair rolled backwards as his feet planted on the ground, his head whipping around to face Carlos, cheeks flushed a dark red and he shook his head.

"Now-"

But he was cut off by the Chief, letting them know the shift was over. Charlie was off before Carlos could even look back, grabbing his jacket and tearing through the front door. Tumbling through the doorway in his haste, barely catching himself doorknob before he slammed it shut.

Minutes later, he stood in front of a small café, eyes wide and chest heaving. His clothes were damp with sweat, smoke lingered in his hair and his cheeks were dusted pink from his hastey run. Despite his disheveled state Charlie grinned, pushing open the door and walking right up to where they sat. It didn't hit him until they glanced up, just how much of a mistake this probably was, but he truthfully couldn't bring himself to care.

"You.. you probably don't remember me. But I'm Charlie, one of the firefighters that helped put out your car a couple weeks ago." He swallowed hard, suddenly painfully aware of the way they looked at him and he fought the urge to just turn and walk- no, run away. But he held fast, determined, and he cleared his throat.

"I uh, I was just wondering.. y'know if you didn't mind, if I uh.. I joined ya?" A vague gesture to the empty chair across from them. "My treat, if you'll have me?"