Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

Together

You didn't know who was more excited about the transition. As soon as the last box was moved in, Charlie ordered pizza, threw on a record, and popped a bottle of champagne he picked up just for the occasion. As the record player serenaded you with "Saturday In The Park", you could feel your heart beating a little bit faster. This was real. You were really doing it--living together. Everything was falling into place. Jules had first dibs on the items you planned to part with and what wasn't packed up was sold to whoever was willing to pick it up. All in all, things felt perfect. And they really were. The joy on Charlie's face as he spun you in the living room was infectious. Your bodies were flush as you swayed to the music; you couldn't remember a time when you'd seen him half as ecstatic as he was now. It was easy to see where all of Henry's wonderful little expressions came from.

You laid together in the quiet that night, perfectly content to keep staring into each other's eyes. Charlie's arm slinked around your middle beckoned you closer. "You live here now," he murmured. "Do you know how long I've waited for this?" His lips pressed against yours.

You hummed, completely at ease in his arms. "I think I might have an idea," you uttered, placing featherlight kisses over his lips and face. He moved to cover your body with his, slowly coming to position himself between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck instantly as he deepened the kiss, rolling his hips and causing a soft moan to spill from your mouth.

The day your first piece of mail arrived at your new address called for another small celebration.

"Look what I've got," Charlie said in a sing-song voice. He was grinning as he passed you an envelope while sorting through the mail. "Now it's really official."

There it was in black and white: a copy of your pay stub with your name at his address, only now it was yours too. You leaned over and kissed him, but for Charlie it wasn't satisfied. Without hesitation, he tossed the remaining mail over his shoulder and picked you up; voracious kisses covered your mouth as he tried to get closer. You couldn't contain your squeal as he carried you to the bedroom, leaving clothes in your wake.

Since fully moving in with Charlie, your already active sex life seemed to go into overdrive. Try as you might, you could barely keep your hands off each other. The kitchen, various parts of the living room, the shower, the tub. And that poor bed. No matter how many times you broke it in, it would never be enough. In the beginning, you worried you'd grow tired of being around each other all the time, but as things would have it, you thrived sharing a space together.

In the past, Charlie had already made plenty of room for you in his closet and dresser, but now you were both tasked with seeing how your own eclectic pieces fit in with his. You didn't realize how many different shower and beauty products you had until you started packing and the amount was still somewhat overwhelming when you were finding new homes for everything.

"What's this?" Charlie asked, holding up a small black container.
"It's a face mask and body scrub." You were sitting in the bathroom unpacking one of your last mixed boxes.
Charlie unscrewed the lid and sniffed. "Hmm. Smells nice. Kind of like coffee."
"That's because it's made from coffee."
He chuckled and read the label. "Guess if I read the front I would've known that."
"We can try it later if you want."
"What?"
"The face mask. Or a different one. There are some in there that are nicer. I have several," you said as he passed you another item to put under the cabinet.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to talk me into a spa day."
"It's good to pamper yourself every now and then...besides, we could make a night of it."
"Could we now?" You peered up just in time to find him inspecting an unopened box of tampons.
"Charlie..." You weren't sure why you felt embarrassed, but the heat rushed to your cheeks anyway.
"Yeah?"
"What are you--" "I was making a mental note in case you ever need me to stop and pick something up."
"You don't have to---I wouldn't--"
"It's no different than picking up toothpaste or shampoo," he offered, smiling. "And I don't remember hearing you complain about all those times I came over with dark chocolate and pizza."