The first time Charlie had really considered it was last summer, during the big rainstorm. L.A. didn't get rain all that often, but on those rare occasions, it swept everything clean in wide rushing sheets of precipitation, reminding all the normally outdoor-loving Californians that nature was a force to be reckoned with, not just their exterior designer.

Before that day, Charlie had thought of Colby as good material for an unrequited crush. Charlie liked everything about him, even - especially - the way he gave Charlie a hard time. But even when he found out that Colby was bi, it didn't change anything. Charlie wasn't his type, he knew. Colby liked dangerous women and manly men. He liked hard bodies and conversations about anything other than math.

So Colby was perfect to flirt with and fantasize a little about, but Charlie was careful not to let his fantasies take over. Because he could look at Colby, he could imagine him, but it would never be more than an image in his head. It was like looking at a painting of a dramatic natural landscape. You can like the painting all you want, but it doesn't mean you'd actually be able scale the cliff or navigate the rapids.

So all in all, Charlie knew it was best to stick to reality. To not let his fantasies run away with him.

But then Charlie came home to find Colby waiting for him.

It was for a case. Of course.

But as Charlie came in to the warm dry house, and he shed his soaked corduroy blazer to reveal an equally soaked shirt beneath, he had folded his arms in a shiver. And Colby had instinctively put his hands on Charlie's two shoulders and started rubbing them to warm him up. He had looked at Colby then with a combination of surprise and desire, and though he quickly tried to hide it behind an amused smile, there was of course no way to hide so obvious a feeling from a skilled investigator.

Charlie was expecting Colby to switch immediately to his professional tone, to mercifully let them both pretend that Colby noticed nothing. But Colby let out a little chuckle. Not from pity or amusement... to Charlie, it sounded relieved, somehow. And Colby moved his hand to the Charlie's head and ran it through Charlie's sopping wet curls. He gazed at Charlie intently then, and Charlie recognized it as a question.

"Yes," Charlie whispered, throat going dry. And Colby's fingers grabbed more tightly at Charlie's curls and brought their heads together, slowing down just in time for their lips to meet in softness and warmth. Charlie gave a small moan, which encouraged Colby to slowly press his tongue between Charlie's lips. Charlie leaned his body into his, and Colby moved his other hand to Charlie's waist, managing to move it up and down Charlie's torso, which was slick beneath the clinging wet shirt. A low noise came out of Colby's throat, and Charlie savored it, how animal it sounded, and how it made Charlie himself feel wild, like a wide, rushing sheet of desire was pulsing down on him.

When they finally parted, there was practically a shadow of Charlie's body imprinted on Colby, the wetness from the rain soaking into Colby's clothes as well.

Charlie smiled, not sure what to say next. "Sorry I got you wet."

"Didn't mind."

"If someone sees you, they'll be able to calculate that you kissed someone of my height," Charlie said, trying to make Colby smile.

But Colby just looked at him in all seriousness and said, "They won't have to calculate anything if we just tell them."

Charlie looked at him in surprise, then nodded. He realized then that the real Colby wasn't going to be anything like in his fantasies -- a torrent of animal lust, here one day and gone the next. The real Colby was going to be a shelter from the storm.

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Author's Note: The idea for this was inspired by a prompt and fic at comment_fic (Bite Sized bits of fic), which is a multi-fandom prompting community over at livejournal

Prompt was Charlie/Colby, summer rain