Author's Note: So I was kind of amused and enchanted and slightly in love with the idea of Chameron (or anything involving Charlie really), and I figured I would try my hand at writing something semi-realistic involving the two. If you don't even want to think of the combination of Charlie and Cameron together…then I advise you not to read…but that should be obvious, shouldn't it? Otherwise, for those of you looking for slight AU/kind of canon (Blackbirdox and I agree, so there) I hope you enjoy this little tidbit of Chameron. And therefore this is dedicated to Blackbirdox…because she wrote the original Chameron fic…as far as I can tell…
Disclaimer: Dead Poets Society does not belong to me. This was made out of complete boredom and an inkling that maybe, just maybe, Charlie and Cameron's dislike for each other wasn't so much dislike, as much as sexual tension…
Hospitals had never agreed much with Charlie Dalton. Or rather, Charlie Dalton had never agreed much with hospitals.
Sure, he'd been to the emergency room more than the average young man his age, from one broken bone to the next. And yes, he'd frequented the hallways when he was in grade school with various cases of chicken pox and other illnesses (some of which may or may not have been faked); and so, as Charlie was admitted into room number 353 in the surgical ward to relax before his upcoming appendectomy, he realized that maybe, just maybe, this was karma coming back at him for all of those times he had drawn breasts in class, said a naughty word, made fun of Spazz, and impersonated His Holiness on the telephone. Then again, how could God not love Charlie? So this could most definitely be chocked up to work of the devil.
And, speak of the devil, as these thoughts were jogging through Charlie's mind, Richard Cameron tentatively knocked on the doorframe of room 353 and shuffled inside. Charlie smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I knew you couldn't resist me."
Richard, ignoring such a comment, settled into the chair beside Charlie's bed, since Richard would never dare be seen 'plopping' into something, as doing so wasn't proper or approved of. Then again, this wasn't approved of. 'This' being what he and Charlie had. It wasn't approved of by the poets, or his father, or his mother, or Charlie's parents, and it sure as hell wasn't approved of by society or Nolan. He didn't even know if he himself approved of it. He only knew that when he was by Charlie, he was driven insane. In both good ways and bad ways. Charlie had no restraint, no respect for authority, no fear it seemed. And Richard admired and loathed him for that.
"I'm here because Nolan only allowed one of us to get a day pass, Charlie," Richard corrected the hospitalized boy with chagrin. But, as Charlie knew all too well, Richard was there because he wanted to be. Because he missed his roommate more than he ever imagined he would. Because deep down Richard might have been developing feelings for something besides loyalty to each and every authority figure in his life.
Charlie raised his eyebrow as usual and scoffed. "Sure you are, Dick; and I'm just lying in this place because I want to be." Charlie smirked. "So, what are you going to do to me as a get well present?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making Richard groan in slight annoyance.
"Must everything be turned sexual with you?" he questioned, not as annoyed as he actually pretended to be. Richard really didn't mind how perverted Charlie became. Things always tended to turn out good for both of them because of Charlie's one track mind.
"Must everything be shot down by you?" Charlie retorted, crossing his arms and wincing in pain. Fucking appendix just had to go on him.
Richard's eyes softened uncharacteristically. "How're you feeling, Charlie?" he asked, a slight tint of worry in his usually haughty or nervous tone.
Charlie grimaced. "I'm just dandy, Dick. One of my organs is about ready to burst and release toxic waste throughout my body. How do you think I feel?"
Richard averted his eyes for a moment, growing red. Which was Charlie's favorite color. He shook his head. Why did his mind always relate things back to Charlie Dalton? How was it possible to be able to do such a thing? He could be sitting in his dorm, not thinking of Charlie at all and then he'd glance at the calendar and see that Oh! It was his mother's birthday this upcoming Wednesday! And, low and behold, Charlie would pop into his mind because the lightning-baring peer of his constantly made 'Your Mom' jokes. Richard wasn't even safe to think of his mother without his mind diverting to sexual fantasies of the only Dalton child. It was just wrong. Just so, so wrong.
And yet Richard wasn't really complaining.
Richard sighed, letting one of his hands rest on Charlie's shoulder in comfort before immediately drawing back. They never touched in public. Behind closed dormitory doors was a whole other matter, but in pubic, that was just unheard of. Unless Charlie was administering playful punches or something to the poets, or silly smacks upside the head, then physical closeness between the two was nonexistent. Richard saw Charlie's eyes grow wide in shock, but the sickly boy didn't say anything, and apparently had decided to log this event away in the recesses of his mind, most likely for later mocking usage. Richard could just hear him now: Hey Dick, remember that time in the hospital when you actually grew a heart?
Instead, after an awkward silence, broken only by fake coughs and few sniffs of the nose, Charlie mumbled, "That was nice."
Richard perked up, bringing his eyes back to those of Charlie's, and cocked his own eyebrow in confusion. "What?" Had he heard Charlie correctly?
"I said, 'That was nice'," Charlie repeated through grit teeth, not believing himself. Since when had he ever been considered 'kind' to Richard Cameron? Certainly they did things together, but that wasn't out of kindness, that was out of primal needs. Duh. Right? Charlie shook his head to clear his mind. "But I'm on a lot of drugs right now so I wouldn't pay attention to the things I say." Richard couldn't help but let a small smile leak across his freckled face. Charlie groaned. "Don't act so high and mighty, Dick; it makes you look creepier, what with your ginger hair and everything…" Oh Charlie, always with the ginger jokes.
"So…" Richard began, gulping in sudden fear of what his brain was actually thinking of making him do. "If you're on so many drugs, you probably wouldn't remember if I did this or not…would you?"
"Did what?" Charlie snapped in irritation, still angry at himself for deeming something that Cameron had done as 'nice'. But before his mind could finish berating himself, Cameron's lips had crashed forcibly onto his own, and Charlie found himself letting his eyelids slip closed. Well that was certainly…nice, as well.
Richard pulled away, leaving Charlie with a goldfish look to him, and flushed. That was most definitely the bravest thing he had ever done without the instigation of someone else. And, boy, did he feel proud. Until Charlie quickly snapped out of his trance. "What the fuck, Dick?" he yelled. Well that certainly wasn't what Richard had been expecting in response.
"I…I…" Richard fumbled for words that just weren't coming to him. How was he supposed to explain himself now? "I should be leaving," he blurted, scooting back in the chair with enough force to make it screech on the linoleum, causing both boys to cringe at the sound.
"You're such a nosebleed," Charlie scoffed at Cameron's spastic behavior.
"Yeah, well…" Richard ran a hand through his hair, calculating his next move, which was most definitely going to be in the direction of the door, when he stopped. Why did he have to put up with Charlie's fickle behavior? That was just as stupid as the fact that he had wanted to kiss Charlie in the first place. "Look. I put up with your…your…voracious sexual appetite at the dorms, and I listen to you go on and on about being with all these numerous girls, and I let you make fun of me and call me names all the time, and I'm sick of it!" Charlie's eyes were about the size of saucers by the time Richard had finished his little monologue. Richard gulped, clearing his throat to regain his cool, and straightened out his tie. "I'll see you back at Welton, Charlie."
Charlie blinked in utter shock. So he was kind of rude to Cameron…that's just how things were. He didn't remember when it had all started, he just knew that for as long as Cameron had been around, Charlie had been poking fun at the freckly, ginger boy that had, up until this year, been shorter than him as well. Charlie reached up, scratching the back of his head. "Rich?" Well that was a first. No one referred to Cameron as 'Richard' or 'Rich'. They just referred to him as 'Cameron', because none of the other poets were harsh enough to call him 'Dick'.
Richard stopped abruptly. That was the first time in a long time that he had heard his first name actually pass the lips of one of his peers. Mmm, Charlie's lips. Richard inwardly groaned, shaking his head at such a sudden thought, and turned around, looking balefully in the direction of the hospital bed that Charlie was confined to. "Yeah, Charlie?"
Charlie bit his lip, staring over in Cameron's direction. "I'll see you back at the dorms in about a week," he said quietly, an inkling of a smile crossing his face.
And just like that, everything was fine, and there was no weight on either of their shoulders, and Richard nodded. "See you at the dorms, Charlie."
Author's Note: So yeah...that's all I have for now to entertain you. Hope you enjoyed just a little bit of it :) Thanks for reading!