Centrefold

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: M/M lovin'. Though I'm not really sure that counts as a warning anymore...
Summary: Charles decides whether it’s better to keep up his professional appearance, or hurt Nathan’s feelings.
Notes:

It was a beautiful summer evening; a Thursday in fact. The windows in Charles' office were open wide when Nathan walked in, smiling at the man he loved, watching him work. Charles was catching up on a few things that had been neglected when Nathan had dragged him off for a week to Switzerland. Beautiful, precious, sweet, nerdy, lethal Charles.

He was so gonna get his ass kicked for what he was about to suggest....

Nathan walked over to Charles and lightly nuzzled the top of his head as he worked.

"Hey sexy, come here often?"

"Only every single day." Charles smiled faintly, momentarily setting aside his work to return Nathan's nuzzling. "Mmm. How are you?"

"Bored and lonely. There's no one to play with. Pickles and Murderface are doing something with boiled grain in the kitchen, and I'm totally not looking for Toki and Skwisgaar. They were last seen heading for Murderface's torture chamber with a bottle of that butter-flavoured topping for popcorn." Nathan nipped his lips softly. "I thought once you were done working we could head for the hot tub and watch a movie."

"My poor Nathan," Charles muttered fondly, tipping his head up to kiss the frontman. "That... sounds nice. Just give me another ten or fifteen minutes here."

"Okay."

Nathan gently returned the kiss, then slipped a contract onto the table before turning and walking away. Charles blinked, glancing at the contract with quiet curiosity.

"What's this?" he asked, pulling it closer.

"Uh... nothing. Like... nothing at all. Um.... yeah you don't have to read that at all, just sign it."

The inevitable eyebrow was raised. "...You didn't really think that was going to work, did you?"

"Well I thought I'd try. It's just.... um... like.... an entry form."

"For?" Charles prompted.

"Umm.... for like.... Playgirl centerfold."

Charles just stared. "...I'm sorry, Nathan, I misheard you. I thought you said 'Playgirl centerfold'. Isn't that ridiculous?"

"No. I totally think you're pretty enough to be a centerfold in Playgirl."

Charles stared at the man he loved with open disbelief. "...Okay, Nathan... Why exactly...? Where is this coming from? Start at the beginning."

"Playgirl magazine is planning an issue of the twenty-four sexiest men in business. I want you to be the centerfold because you're the sexiest."

"I... see. Sort of." Charles removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Nathan... before we even get into my feelings on the matter, I think that... Playgirl would have contacted me themselves if they were interested."

"They said they tried repeatedly and you never returned their calls. So I said I'd try."

Charles suppressed a wince. He hadn't counted on Nathan knowing about the calls. And he shouldn't know about those calls. They were his private matters. What was Nathan doing in contact with the magazine?

"You told them you'd try? Why were they contacting you about the matter?"

"They weren't, they contacted me about doing the February issue, and they just happened to ask if I knew if you had got any of their calls and did I think I could like... maybe... y'know... talk to you."

"How very thorough of them," Charles muttered, eyes narrowed. "Well, if they truly couldn't discern my answer from the ignored calls, you can them that I'm not interested." The manager turned his attention back to his work, thinking the matter settled. It lasted about two seconds. "...They want you to do an issue?" he asked, looking back at the frontman, blinking. "What did you say?"

Nathan hadn't really heard anything past "I'm not interested." He gazed at Charles with the same sort of look a dog gives his master when he doesn't understand why they can't go play.

"You're.... not?"

"...No, Nathan. I'm not."

"But.... but you're prettier than those other douche bags! They want you to be the centerfold! And I wanna be able to tell people I'm dating a centerfold!"

"Nathan," Charles said evenly, eyes narrowing again, "I really don't see how this is open for discussion. It's my body, and my decision."

Nathan was clearly crushed. "But you're prettier than all those other guys. You're the best! Why should some pasty loser have the centerfold when you're so much better?"

"Nathan, it... it really isn't that big a deal to me. At all."

"But it is to me! You're beautiful! You know who they're gonna make the centerfold if you don't do it? Bill Gates. Explain to me why that’s fair."

"Nathan, calm down," Charles said gently, surprised by the way the singer was reacting. "There's no need to get so upset. Come on, let's... Let's sit on the couch and talk about this."

"There's every reason to get upset about it! Don't tell me not to get upset. They're offering YOU the centerfold. They want YOU. Because you're the best and most beautiful."

"And that's very flattering, Nathan. I'm just not interested."

Nathan was clearly extremely upset about Charles' lack of interest. "But it's important! They'll give the centerfold to that other douche bag, or Cornickelson, and then you won't wanna do it with me either!"

Charles frowned. "What do you mean 'do it with you'?"

"That's why they contacted me. For February they wanted to do famous gay couples. But... you're not gonna wanna do that either, I guess."

The God of Death wibbled his lip.

"Oh. Well..." Charles sighed. "Nathan, I... I realize that this means a good deal to you. I'm... not entirely certain why. But... I'm just not comfortable with having my picture taken and published… like that..."

"But...." Nathan was clearly deeply upset, and reaching that point where he needed to explain his point of view in the matter to Charles... and once more hitting that roadblock - the one made out of years' worth of learning disabilities and an inability to verbalize. Normally he could find something to say, find some way to express what he was thinking. But he got intimidated by Charles in moments like this. Charles spoke fluid rivers of elegant speech, spiced with expressions in Latin and French. Some days Nathan was lucky he could say "I would like sausages with my pancakes."

Fuck he hated being just smart enough to know how fucking stupid he really was.

"Never mind," he said softly, defeated. "It doesn't matter."

"Nate," Charles said softly, placing his hand on Nathan's, "Don't be sad. I'm sorry this means so much to you, but I'm a very private person."

"I know, and normally I am too. But.... you're the only thing I ever did right. And I just.... thought... You know what? Forget it. You're right. I'm just being stupid again. I can't think why you'd wanna be seen in a magazine with a guy who quit school in grade ten and couldn't spell his own name until he was seven anyway. I'll wait for you in the hot tub."

Charles tightened his grip on Nathan's hand, urging him to stay put. "Nathan, that is neither fair nor does it have anything to do with the matter. You know I'm proud to be with you."

"No it has everything to do with the matter. I never asked you for anything before. Never. And when we got together I did everything you told me - I kept it quiet because it might affect my career. I kept it quiet because it might affect record sales. I kept it quiet for a billion stupid reasons. This meant something to me. It was a chance to show off the fact that a fat stupid loser like me can still get something good. You know people think being a rock star means you just instantly win at life. I'm the biggest loser I know. All I have is you."

"You are not a loser, Nathan,” Charles said quietly. “You are incredibly talented. And what's more, you are a good man. The best I know. Please believe me when I say that my rejection of this particular idea has nothing to do with wanting or not wanting to publically come out as a couple and everything to do with not wanting to have naked pictures taken of myself."

"Nobody even has to see you naked. You can sit behind me. Wear the tie and the glasses, you'd be precious!"

"But they would know I was naked. And how would that strategy help me in a centerfold alone?"

"It's Playgirl, not Blueboy. They can like... pose you so you're not showing everything you own."

"That's not the point, Nathan."

"No,” said Nathan quietly, looking sad and defeated. “The point is you don't wanna do it and I'm sorry I brought it up. I should have known better than to even ask. I just had this retarded fucking idea in my head that.... yeah was just another fucking retarded idea."

"Nate, please don't run yourself down like that." Charles took hold of his hand again. "Tell me what you thought."

"I didn't think anything! You know me, there's nothin’ up here but beer and bullshit. I just.... wanted everyone to see how beautiful you are. That's all. I just wanted to show you off and show what I have. And if I'd just thought about it I'd have realized I was just embarrassing myself again."

Charles smiled, reaching up to cup Nathan's cheek. He scooted forward so his knees were pressing against Nathan's thigh as he leaned in, kissing him softly. "You're very sweet, Nathan," he murmured against the frontman's lips. "The sweetest man in the world. And don't be embarrassed. That's... a beautiful thing to want."

Nathan shook his head. "I'll just go wait for you in the hot tub," he whispered.

Charles kept hold of his face, slowly realizing what Nathan was trying to say in his own confused way. This was really about wanting Charles to admit they were a couple, and fearing that Charles was ashamed to have become public knowledge. Nathan wasn’t asking him to take his clothes off. He was asking if Charles was embarrassed to be with him.

"Nate," he said softly, thoughtfully, "I've actually been thinking... maybe it is a good time to come out publically."

Nathan didn't pull away. He could have easily, but he liked it when Charles held onto him.

"You're just saying that because you know I'm gonna whine all night."

"No, that's just a fortunate side-effect." Charles kissed him again. "I mean it. I've... been researching, and discussing it with... trusted associates. And I think at this point in your career and... well, cultural domination of the globe, any negative impact the reveal might have on record sales or your public image wouldn't be anything we couldn't recover from."

Nathan blinked at him. He didn't have the first clue what Charles had just said. But that was one of the things that made Charles intimidating as well as sexy. Nathan waited for the rusty clinking gears in his brain to turn over.

"So.... you'll do the February spread with me?"

Charles' face fell slightly. "Oh... Well, I meant... maybe there was some other way we could go about coming out."

Nathan sensed a crack in Charles' armour. He gently pressed forward, nuzzling him softly. "Yeah but think of the impact. I mean... c'mon. Nobody knows, and then like.... there we are. It would totally be like a fist in the face. And... maybe we can negotiate it so you're not like... totally naked."

Charles nervously bit his lower lip, stopping as soon as he realized he was doing so. "Yes, but... I'd still be in the magazine. And... Well, I have a reputation to think of, Nate. And... people would see it. People I know. My family might find out about it."

"No it's totally cool! When your dad called last night I asked him and he said you were an adult and it was up to you. Then he said something about slitting his wrists."

"...What?!"

Nathan blinked. "Your dad said you were an adult and it was up to you. I don't think he knew why I was asking about it though. Does your dad know you're gay or is this gonna be one of those things I'm forbidden to mention ever again if I wanna live?"

"...My father is quite aware of my orientation," Charles answered, his voice muffled due to hiding his face in his hands. "I just imagine he wasn't prepared to have his son's boyfriend ask him over the phone whether it was all right if said son appeared in a pornographic magazine."

"Well he seemed cool with it."

"Oh, God, Nathan, why did you ask my father before you even mentioned it to me? Why was he calling you, anyway?"

"Oh. He's coming up next week."

"He is? And... why didn't he tell me?"

"Well he asked me to tell you but I forgot and I didn't wanna wake you to come to the phone because yesterday you had that bitch of a migraine that made you puke all night."

Charles sighed. "Well... I wish you had told me sooner. And I really wish you hadn't mentioned nudity at all to my father. But... thank you."

Nathan nibbled his nose softly. "What if I tell the Playgirl people you'll only do the couples spread if you don't have to be completely naked?"

Charles' eyes grew soft and he blushed slightly at the attention. "Well, I... I suppose I could... think about it."

"What if I told them you'd only do it in grey silk shorts, an open shirt, and a loose tie...?" Nathan growled softly, hands slowly slipping down over Charles' hips.

"Ah..." Charles batted Nathan's hands away half-heartedly. "Well, that... does sound better..."

"With your cute little glasses askew and your hair messed up...?" Nathan began slowly pushing him back to his desk.

"I'm... hearing a lot about me," Charles said slowly, a bit breathless but more in control than just seconds previous. He looked up at Nathan, canting his head to the side. "What about you?"

"I dunno, what about me? I don't really care how I look. You're the sexy one."

"I don't get turned on listening to descriptions of myself." Charles grinned. "At least not very. You're going to be in the photo, too," he reminded him, stroking a hand over Nathan's chest. "So what do you think? Would you be naked?"

"Yeah, why not? Naked and showing off all my old scars from playing football and maybe molesting this really fucking hot little guy in silk boxers with his hair messed up...." Nathan gently bit Charles' throat, slipping his hand up his thigh.

"But you-" Charles broke off with a gasp, grabbing Nathan's hand but not batting it away. "But you won't... show everything. Right?"

Nathan growled softly, his free hand slipping around to the small of Charles' back. "Well they'd need a really long lens..."

The manager leaned in quickly, biting Nathan's lower lip. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

Charles kissed him, teasingly pressing his tongue past Nathan's lips for just a moment. "Don't... show it. I promise to do the spread with you if you don't."

Nathan gently pushed Charles down onto the desk, kissing him, slowly opening his suit jacket. "Promise."

"Good." He smiled. "I thought you wanted to watch a movie."

"Yeah I thought you wanted to work."

Nathan slowly parted Charles' jacket and shirt, kissing the bare flesh beneath, nibbling his neck, then slowly opening his belt and pants with his teeth. Nudging the pants open, he growled softly, letting the tip of his tongue softly touch the velvety softness of Charles' penis....

And that was when Charles’ father chose to let them know that he had arrived early, and brought Charlie’s sister as well.