Work Text:
The room around him is spinning a little and the ceramic of the counter under his hands feels too cold to the touch. There’s a delirious laugh bubbling up in his throat, a product of the buzzing in his veins and the giddiness in his stomach. Alcohol is nice, he thinks. The wait was worth it. He really should have asked Tao to accompany him to the bathroom because he’s not sure how many steps he can take before stumbling, though.
Charlie manages to step back into the furthest stall in the bathroom, the one against the wall. If he’s going to put himself together, he’d rather do it in privacy instead of someone walking in as he’s making faces in the mirror in an effort to get his eyes to focus. So he sits on the closed toilet lid, hands resting on his knees as he plops his head down on them and tells himself to get his shit together before walking out. It’s barely past midnight and he’s not allowing himself to be so drunk this early.
He’s breathing deeply, feeling a little too relaxed for it to be good, and coaxes himself to not fall asleep in the bathroom of a random hotel where this party is being held. His friends are out there waiting and the girls have probably already made a barricade in the hall, about to push into the boy’s bathroom to make sure he’s fine, so makes the decision of walking out. Before he can stand up, though, there are voices. There’s a voice, in particular. One that makes the buzzing blood in his veins run cold.
”I swear to you, mate, Harry does it every time. Having rich parents has to be the best fucking thing in the world. Look at this place! It’s even bigger than the one he got when he turned 16!” His accent is thicker than normal, words blurring into each other, slurring heavily.
The stuff of nightmares, that voice is. The same one that had called him every compliment in the book for a few months, and then switched to insults, screaming, belittling. Then the same voice which had begged and whined for him back. Charlie snorts quietly, then widens his eyes at the possibility of being heard and discovered.
He doesn’t recognize the other person’s voice but his body goes stiff at what comes out of their mouth.
”Fuckin’ thank god it’s a good party because mate I wasn’t going tag along with you just to be a backup to find your plaything”.
The world rolls off the boy’s tongue and it sounds wrong. Dirty. Charlie wants to pretend like it doesn’t refer to him, but he feels like that’s just wishful thinking.
“You are helping me, though. He is going to hear me when I find him. Does he think he can just walk away from me? Ignore me? After I put my ass on the line for him? Fuck that.”
It feels weird. Thinking that Ben is now at a point where he’s telling people, or at least the guy who’s with him in the bathroom. He always thought Ben was going to take his attraction to men to his grave, buried deep inside of him with only side hook-ups and psyche-ruining “situationships” to show for it. But not only he’s talking about it, about a him, about Charlie, but he’s also entailed help to find him. That finally settles into his brain and there’s something akin to fear on his chest.
“I get you, bro, but don’t you think he’s over it now? He might have someone else already. It has been months. Three of them, right?” The boy says, his tone is hesitant. It’s clear he doesn’t know him really well if he believes Ben is not a petty asshole.
There’s a snort, of course.
”Someone else? Who’s he going to get? He was the only out gay kid in Truham, he’s about to begin university so he’s not getting with someone younger, and he’s not going to go further than the town. Everyone knows he’s a loser here, too. The most he could possibly do is some uni guy and there’s not many of those out in Kent.”
”Because you know a lot about being an out uni guy in Kent, do you?” There’s a snarl in the guy’s voice and Charlie gets the impression that not even he seems to like Ben. There’s a certain satisfaction to it, to knowing even Ben’s friends know he’s a knob. And also some extra information, like seemingly the fact that his “ex” has not gotten his shit together in the year he was been away for his first year of university, at least sexuality-wise. “There’s that Nelson kid though if we’re talking about possibilities. He’s not gay, but he likes guys.”
He thinks they both have to be pretty hammered if the conversation has turned from Ben’s usual dismissal of Charlie into looking at the possibilities of dating prospects for him. Charlie thinks deeply then, the name floating around in his brain as he tries to figure out where he can recognize it from.
An incredulous laugh reverberates on the walls of the bathroom.
”Nelson? As in Nick Nelson? Star rugby player of the Leeds university team?”
”I mean, yeah. He came out as bi at the beginning of the year, I think. And he’s from around here.”
”No, no, you wanker, I know who he is. What I mean is that I forgot you don’t know Charlie. As if his pathetic ass could bag “Rugby King” Nick Nelson.” The laughing continues, cruel and bitter cackles, and Charlie automatically makes himself smaller on the stall. Even if he despises Ben, and has been in therapy working towards making himself understand that what he thinks of him isn’t relevant to Charlie, it doesn’t mean hearing him say those words stings any less. “I think I would have more of a chance, honestly. I’d pay to see Charlie even try to talk to him. He’s a wimp. And Nelson wouldn’t give him the time of day.”
Another laugh then, and Charlie feels the furrow on his brow deepen. Something different, a new emotion settles deep within his chest. Anger. Who does this twat think he is? What is his need to always talk about Charlie like he’s less? Why does he underestimate him every opportunity he gets? He doesn’t know him. At all. Past his hands roaming on his body and his lips biting at Charlie’s (which he never liked, mind you, because it’s not nice to be chomped instead of kissed), there has never been an ounce of closeness between them, which Charlie is thankful to finally understand. He doesn’t owe anything to Ben, he’s aware. But something deep inside of him, the young boy who went through a year and a half of self-doubt, tears, and pain thanks to this fucker, wants to prove him wrong.
“Whatever, mate. You know better and all that shit. I need a drink right now, though, so let’s get out.”
There’s the sound of the tap running, closing, some steps, then the door opening and shutting behind them. Charlie waits a few seconds until he feels it’s safe to leave his hideout and walks out of the stall, making a beeline for the sink. He splashes his face with some water, and takes a deep breath. As he looks at himself in the mirror, there's something new in his eyes. Conviction. A mission.
His steps are hurried as he leaves the bathroom, walking barely a few meters until he’s faced with his group of friends standing in a circle, sneakily passing a cigarette around. Darcy is blowing smoke out of the corner of her lips and Tara is making a face at her, nose scrunched up and hand flailing as if it’s hitting her in the face, which it absolutely isn’t. Isaac seems uninterested as he looks down at his phone, probably reading a book in PDF format as it wasn’t safe to bring one of his babies to a place where suspicious substances could be dropped on them at any given second. Tao and Elle are in their little world, arms around each other, whispering sickeningly sweet things. Charlie barges into the circle then, standing next to Isaac.
“Someone show me a picture of Nick Nelson. Right now.”
“Well, hello to you too”, Elle says, eyebrows raised. Her arms are still locked around her boyfriend’s neck and Charlie makes a gagging noise in her direction.
Tara, the sunshine that she is, already has her phone out and is tapping furiously.
”Care to explain what is the reason for this request?” Darcy asks, her ever-present teasing tone even more prominent if possible. “That’s one of our own, too, so… Charles?”
”One of our own?” Tao adds, face scrunched up in confusion.
”Not you, hetero. One of ours.” Darcy flicks the cigarette and passes it to him, rolling her eyes.
”At least he’s not asking about a straight one, then.”
”Got it! Sorry for the wait, for such a fancy place, the WiFi is awful here.” Tara exclaims, passes her phone to him then, the Instagram app opened on “nicknzzzz” profile.
His picture is black and white and the only thing in his bio are his pronouns and “Leeds University Rugby”. As Charlie opens the most recent post, his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. So that’s Nick Nelson.
The post is of him decked out in fancy attire, sitting in a garden in front of a set table. He’s wearing a formal white shirt and trousers, a black bow tie matching black suspenders and his auburn fringe falls on his eyes a little, wind running through it. His face is a little scrunched up and he has a toothpick in his mouth. There’s no reason why Charlie finds that as attractive as he does. It’s probably because, really, he finds Nick Nelson in general very attractive.
Ben and his friends were right in talking about him. His posts are a mix of photos taken by (probably) professional photographers at rugby games showing him in dynamic poses, along with pictures of him and his friends at different outings, some of just a gorgeous brown and white dog posing, and just a very few really (like really) good candids or pictures where he’s actually looking at the camera. Nick Nelson is a big name around, it seems, adding up to a whopping nine thousand and something followers, the number barely reaching six hundred under “following”, including Tara.
”Where do you know him from?” Charlie asks, eyes not leaving the phone in the slightest until he hears a cackle from Darcy. Tara rolls her eyes.
”We knew each other when we were kids. He was my first kiss.” Charlie’s head whips around at that, eyes wide open. “Oh, don’t give me that face, we were thirteen! Anyways, we met again at a party a few years ago, before he came out and his shitty friends were being insufferable about me and him getting together. One of Harry’s, funnily enough, and we got to reconnect.”
”I also got to thank him for making Tara realize she’s a lesbian”, Darcy adds, smugness dripping from her words. Tara just sighs and holds her by the waist, receiving a beaming smile and an arm around her shoulders in response. Charlie huffs. His friends are constantly reminding him that he’s painfully single and it’s not very fun.
“So… He likes guys?”
”There it is…” Isaac mutters with a smile, making the whole group laugh. Charlie cocks his head sideways, narrowing his eyes at his friend.
”He does, in fact, like guys,” Tara says brightly, taking her phone away for a few seconds and getting it back to Charlie with a particular post open on the screen. It’s a photo of the guy in question, standing in the middle of the street, the night sky with people mingling around behind him as a background. He’s dressed in normal sporty attire, just some black joggers and a white t-shirt, cap backward on his head, the perfect picture of any random straight guy, except for something.
The lighting in the photo coming from the side casts a pink, purple and blue glow on his face, the same colors as the tiny flag painted on his cheek, and he has a cardboard sign hanging from his hand which has a picture of Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightly in “Pirates of the Caribbean”, with simple words written in marker above it: “guess what was my awakening.”
”I took that picture. Very proud of myself.” Darcy is grinning widely, and Charlie looks at her in awe and confusion, his thoughts racing. “Also very proud about being the gay who takes baby gays to Pride for the first time!”
”Of course you would, Ce,” Elle adds with a chuckle, taking a sip from the cup on her hand and passing it to Charlie, who takes it without hesitation. The drink is sugary sweet, and he’s thankful for the distraction. Also, thankful because the buzz is starting to wear off. “So you’re telling me you guys have known a hot-guy-liking-boy for some time now and have managed not to meddle and try to introduce him to Charlie?”
The pair look at each other and shrug their shoulders.
”We knew his relationship with the devil was difficult and still going on for a while, so we’d never thought about it,” Tara answers honestly, and Charlie giggles at the nickname for Ben. “I’m pretty sure he’s here, though! So we could introduce all of you guys. Nick is the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, I’m sure you’ll love him.”
At this point, Charlie knows his friends are answering excitedly and affirmatively, but his ears have stopped working because he’s just processing that Nick Nelson is here. He’s here, at this party. Where Ben also is. Where Ben could see him. See… Them.
He downs the rest of the drink in his hand and promptly swipes Tara’s of her hand before he’s walking away with hurried steps, ignoring his friends’ calls after him. It might be the alcohol’s fault but if he wasn’t on a mission before, he definitely is now. It’s an insane idea, it probably is not going to work, and he doesn’t even know the guy, for God's sake. But he’s determined.
He’s going to find Nick Nelson.
Finding rugby’s golden boy is not as easy to do as he thought it'd be.
Charlie has a new cup in his hand, having drunk two more since finishing the one he stole from Tara, and he has been walking around for easily half an hour on the lookout for the guy. With the drink in his hands giving him liquid courage, he has even dared to ask for him, receiving every type of possible direction because, like any popular good looking guy, Nick is in high demand, every single person he has spoken to claims they have seen him head a different way to greet someone or mingle with a group.
He’s getting tired, his feet are hurting from walking and his vision is starting to get even more blurry which each new drink, his eyes closing every time he stays still for a small period of time. Giving up is looking more and more appealing, maybe it’s better to ignore the conversation he’s heard in the bathroom and swallow the bitterness, pushing the need to prove Ben wrong deep down until it’s hidden enough that he can pretend he doesn’t mind. Charlie has almost convinced himself, turning around to meet his friends and maybe go dancing or even ask for a ride home, when he catches a glimpse of reddish fluffy hair and a familiar face.
Nick Nelson, the star rugby player for the Leeds University team, is right there standing by himself in a corner, looking every bit relaxed and nonchalant. Of course he looks good in person. He’s dressed simply but well, surprisingly for a sports guy, really. He’s wearing dark jeans, white sneakers and a black button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s leaning his shoulder against a concrete pillar, a glass beer bottle in his right hand, just being cool and handsome and every other word Charlie’s drunk brain can’t seem to come up with.
He takes a deep breath and starts pushing, sorry and excuse me leaving his lips because his mother taught him manners, as he gets through the dancing crowd until he’s standing just a few steps from him. Charlie looks at him for a minute, feeling unsure of his insane plans for this night, then takes his cup to his lips and swallows the entire thing, which was almost filled to the brink. He makes a face as the liquid burns down his throat, shakes his head quickly, and walks towards Nick.
“I need a favor from you” is what he says, voice serious and determined. He’s slurring a bit, but the intention still stands, and it seems to work in getting the other boy’s attention because he’s turning and staring at Charlie with a puzzled expression.
And wow, Nick Nelson is definitely prettier in person. His eyes are big and dark, his nose is pointy and he has freckles scattered all over his cheeks. He’s also taller than Charlie, his own nose at level with the auburn-haired boy’s chin, and that for some reason makes him flush and giggle a little. It doesn’t seem to help with Nick’s confusion, but it also amuses him, if the way the corner of his lips lifts up a little means something.
“Okay, sure. How can I help you?” He stands a little straighter and turns his body towards him, towering over Charlie a bit more and the dark-haired boy unconsciously steps closer to look up at him.
“Do you know Ben Hope? He goes to your uni.”
”Um, I’m not sure? Maybe? Name seems familiar”, Nick mutters, furrowing his brows, and Charlie has to stop himself from running a finger on the space between them to make him stop. “Shorter than me, maybe? Fluffy hair? Green eyes-“
”Looks like a dick?” Charlie provides, and it gets a surprised chuckle out of Nick. He doesn’t even try to hide the proud smile that forms on his face.
”Yeah, I guess so. I think I know who he is, he hangs around my friend Imogen’s group, sometimes.” Nick nods to himself, then looks back at him. “Why?”
Charlie prepares himself, taking a deep breath, stretching his neck around as he does when he’s about to go for a run. He feels that same type of adrenaline, talking to the taller boy. Nick is still staring, eyebrows raised.
”Okay, here’s the thing. I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, and you really don’t have to take any part of it and it’s really stupid and it might be all a product of the fact that this is the most I’ve ever drunk in my entire life, therefore, the drunkest I’ve ever been. So here goes nothing”, he gets closer to Nick then, shortening the distance between their faces, and doesn’t miss the way Nick lets his back hit the wall but doesn’t actually put any distance between them, just rests there. “Ben is my kind of but not really but sort of… Ex. Ex “thing”. Ex hook-up? Anyways, he is. And he was absolutely awful to me. I'm not going to dump the whole thing on you, but basically, he made me hide and wouldn’t tell anyone we were together, which was fine, ‘cause he was figuring himself out! I even feel bad for telling you about this right now ‘cause I don’t think he’s out? But it’s important for what I’m about to ask, so, anyways… He was really bad and really mean and called me many mean things and told me no one would ever like me and that I was lucky to be with him in any way. And I found out he has a whole-ass girlfriend! So yeah, he's basically an asshole, so I broke up with him and he was, of course, a total bellend about it. He tried to play the victim... But I have a therapist! And I listen to him! And I know my worth now! So I told him to fuck off. And I hadn’t seen him in a while. But he’s here now.”
Somewhere in his mind, he knows he probably sounds delirious. His words are blurring together and he’s putting a little too much emotion and intonation in what he says, hands moving widely as he speaks and gesturing as he makes quotation marks with his fingers. But Nick is staring intently, taking everything he’s saying in and he can’t deny that he loves the attention, enjoys the other boy’s eyes burning into his skin a little too much. He takes a deep breath before finally continuing.
”He was in the bathroom and I heard him. Talking about me. About how I would never get anyone else, how no one would ever look my way... And talking about you. How you came out which, by the way, you’re friends with my friends! Tara and Darcy!” he grins excitedly, and Nick smiles and nods in recognition. God, he should smile more. His smile is so nice. “So yeah, he was saying how you are the only other out guy he knows and how you are so cool and popular and you would never even give me the time of the day. And I got angry. ‘Cause he’s an asshole! So then I thought… What if I proved him wrong! If he sees me with you, then he’d know he’s a twat and a knob and an idiot! And I know it wouldn’t be real, ‘cause you wouldn’t like me like that... But just to prove him wrong for a little and make him fuckin’ swallow his tongue. So. Yes. That’s it.” Charlie is panting by the time he’s finished, and he’s a little dizzy. Nick’s face is unreadable. “So could you? Like… Like pretend to like me, for a little, when he walks by? Just standing with me is enough, smiling maybe? You have a really nice smile, by the way. I think it would work. Just that. Please?”
Nick is just staring at him now, mouth slightly open and Charlie stops himself before he can think about his lips too much because he’s aware that there’s no way back from that train of thought. He starts to feel hot again, half considering taking Nick’s beer and having a swing to cool himself down before he remembers he actually hates the taste. The longer the silence, the more he starts overthinking, and he begins to feel something like shame because of course beautiful handsome gorgeous Nick Nelson wouldn’t even want to pretend to flirt with him.
“I-you know what? That was really dumb, I’m sorry”, he says, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth and his thoughts making him dizzy. “It was really stupid to even ask, so don’t worry, I’ll just head out to look for my frie—”
Before he can finish speaking, there’s a hand on his forearm and he’s being pulled towards Nick, then spun around so now it’s his back against the wall. There’s an arm then, next to his head, palm flat against the surface behind him and Charlie feels his whole body go hot, a sharp intake of breath going through his lips and his stomach exploding with butterflies. He looks up then, Nick at his own arm’s length looking down at him, now closer than ever. From this distance, he can smell the cologne he’s wearing, see the drops of beer on his lips, map out the constellation of freckles that forms on the bridge of his nose.
“I-sorry…” he says and Charlie is shaking his head before he even finishes the sentence. “I just saw him coming out from the door on the other side of the room”. His voice is soft, almost a whisper that’s still heard even through the thumping of the loud rap song coming from the speakers, and he sounds almost shy. Charlie is thankful that there’s a firm surface behind him because he’s pretty sure his knees are buckling and he’d slide right down to the floor if it wasn’t for it.
”I don’t think he’ll ever come out of nowhere” he replies without thinking, and it makes Nick laugh soundly. He’s pleased, smiling up at the other boy. “So… I get this means... yes to the plan, then?”
Nick chuckles again, looking down at the floor bashfully in what Charlie thinks is the most endearing motion he’s seen in his life.
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m up for making an asshole swallow his words.”
“Okay. Thank you, Nick Nelson.”
Nick seems to remember something then, raising his eyebrows.
”Oh, that’s right. I don’t even know your name!”
”And yet, you’re pinning me to a wall. What a nice thing, don’t you think?” With the liquor in his system, Charlie’s filter has clearly shut off for the day. But the delightful blush that appears on Nick’s cheeks indicates that that's not really a bad thing. “Charlie Spring. My name is Charlie.”
”Nice to meet you, Charlie Spring. You’re more than welcome.” Nick chuckles, looks him dead in the eye as he speaks.
Charlie needs another drink if he'll keep up with this.
But he actually manages to see Ben then, making his way through the dance floor, looking every bit of asshole-ish in his ripped jeans and fancy sweater, shiny chains hanging from his neck. He looks nice, even if Charlie hates to admit it, but the smirk on his face does nothing more than infuriate him instead of the effect it used to have on him. Nick must notice his expression because he looks over his shoulder slightly.
”Is he coming towards us?”
”I am not sure… Maybe? I think… Actually, shit.” Ben is definitely turning and walking to his left side instead of their way, lifting his arms and obnoxiously yelling for someone. Charlie can’t help but roll his eyes and slump onto the pillar. “He went the other way.”
”No worries. There’s a bar over there behind you, so he’ll probably head this way at one point or another. We just have to catch him,” Nick says with ease as if everything was already meticulously thought out. It makes Charlie snort, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s getting slightly sleepy without something to drink to keep him awake, so he leans back and closes his eyes. “Hey! Don’t fall asleep on me! This is your plan! How is it going to work if you’re out?” His voice is playful and teasing but still sweet, and it sounds like honey and warmth on Charlie’s ears.
”You flirting with me in my dreams? Doesn’t sound too far-fetched, honestly. Probably won’t be the last time” he says boldly, hearing Nick inhale sharply through his nose. “I want a drink though if I have to be awake”.
He feels himself fall sideways a bit, almost letting the weight of his body fully lean into it but he opens his eyes when there’s a quick hand on his waist, the same one which was just next to his head, steadying and holding him carefully. The touch burns even through his clothes and he’s pretty sure his face is as red as a tomato, even if it’s not fully noticeable in with the flashing lights, thank God.
”Hey, careful. And I think that can be arranged. Something sugary, it’s my guess, which will help you wake up.” Nick's voice is smooth, rumbling low on his throat and Charlie very much could fall more if he keeps hearing it.
”How do you know I am not a beer guy?” He asks in mock-offense. Nick raises his eyebrows, bringing the bottle in his other hand up to Charlie’s mouth, who immediately makes a face of disgust. Nick looks at him in the eye smugly and snorts out a laugh, raising the bottle to his own lips and taking a swing.
Charlie swallows thickly and looks away.
”Okay, you win. Drink now, please!”
Charlie finds himself in front of a make-shift bar in the corner of the dancefloor, body swaying slightly with the effort of keeping himself upright. The hand on the small of his back is helping, though.
Nick's hand.
Nick, who is next to him thanking the bartender as he receives a new bottle of beer, talks to the guy like they've been friends their whole lives, like the extrovert he is. He's pretty sure the other boy is aware of him staring, but the definition of his jaw is too mesmerizing for Charlie to ignore. They are moving then, Nick standing behind him and pushing him gently through the crowd and acting as a barrier between him and the dancing party-goers. He's pretty sure he'll fall on the floor at any given second, but he still bops his head to the music, even if he makes himself even dizzier. The taller boy lets out a laugh when he notices, and Charlie turns his head to smile at him.
"I would take offense to you laughing at me but your laugh is so nice, so you can laugh at me all you want." His voice is probably way too loud for the flirting he's attempting to do, but it makes Nick look down bashfully and that makes it worth the embarrassment of someone possibly hearing him. Even with the tangling of his words, he feels pretty smooth and mentally thanks the alcohol for making him lose his inhibitions, takes another swing of his cup in celebration.
They get to a quieter place on the side of the dancefloor where the lights are softened and there are actually places to sit down, walking towards the half-empty couch in front of the window. The fact that there are mostly couples and people clearly flirting around them is not missed by Charlie. It's a little more private, but the room is open enough that anyone could see them if they walk by it. Still, it definitely feels more intimate.
Nick sits down first, leaving him standing for a bit as he plops himself down on the sofa and places his bottle on the side table, and he reaches his hands up to his hips, probably to guide him towards the empty place beside him. Charlie's unhinged brain has other plans, though, as he makes the quick decision to sit sideways on Nick's lap in a rush like the other boy would escape from him if he doesn't do it fast enough. He hears Nick's huff as he falls on top of him but the guy still manages to catch Charlie's sides in his hands again. When he turns to look, the older boy's face is flushed and his eyes are wide.
He smirks at him, feeling a little too pleased. But there's some fear in the back of his mind, all of the sudden, that he's being annoying or too much, and he half-debates over whether he should stand up and move away. But then Nick's arm is reaching around to rest on the armrest behind him, his other hand resting on his stomach to stabilize him as he keeps swaying, and then Charlie's brain just thinks I would absolutely throw myself at you if we weren't in a room full of people.
"You okay there?" he asks, looking up at Charlie with a gentle smile on his features.
"Besides seeing double for every person in this place and feeling like the song is being played inside of my head?" he raises his eyebrows, then closes his eyes and leans back on the armrest a bit. "Pretty okay. Quite comfortable, actually."
"A little bit of a lightweight, aren't you?" His tone is teasing when he says it, and he grabs the beer from the table and brings it to his lips to drink it.
"Hey! I have an excuse, this is the first time I've drunk this much. I don't even know if I am a lightweight."
"Fair enough. You probably are, though", Nick says, letting out a laugh. "Do you have your friends here or did you come alone, though? Someone is going to have to take care of you, I fear. Too much alcohol for a tiny guy."
"First of all, I am not tiny! Not all of us can be giant rugby lads with ginormous arms, thank you very much." Nick smirks, entirely entertained by Charlie's words. "And second of all, I didn't even want to come. My friends dragged me here and now they are... Somewhere. They told me I had to live a little, prepare myself for the uni “party life” and all, instead of spending every weekend in my new flat locking myself in my room to read".
"At least you were doing something productive."
"I'm sure there are more productive things I could be doing locked up in my room", he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Nick throws his head back in a laugh.
They spend the rest of the time talking, from Charlie's future major for his incoming first year, to the living accommodations, going through their friend groups and families, sharing their worst memories during P.E, Nick's most embarrassing drunken escapades and the time he fell from his chair during a lecture because he was too hungover, and their favorite guilty pleasure movies. Talking to Nick is easy, like he's known him his entire life instead of barely a few hours. He's sweet, attentive, paying attention to every word that comes out of Charlie's mouth, arms still firmly placed in his front and back. If Charlie is honest, he has completely forgotten about Ben at this point, letting himself soak in Nick's undivided attention and letting himself believe that maybe this is not just simply pretending to like him in case his ex passes by. He has been sipping drinks the whole time, feeling not as buzzed as before but definitely still tipsy with the ongoing supply of alcohol entering his system. Someone walks by every thirty minutes with a tray of drinks, because of course Harry would hire waitresses to keep everyone drunk and the party in full swing. Nick is still on the same beer, though, politely declining the girls' offerings every time.
Charlie is getting sleepy again, his eyes blinking heavily from time to time with Nick's voice almost serving as a lullaby, so he finally lets himself shyly place his head on the crook of Nick's shoulder. The other boy isn't faced beyond a small pause in his story about his latest rugby practice and the hand on Charlie's torso moving slowly over his stomach and towards his side, linking his fingers with the hand behind his back, both of them resting on his hip. He keeps talking softly and Charlie sighs contently, eyelids dropping.
The moment of peace doesn't last long, though. Because there's a shout of "Oi Nick!" over the loud music, and there are three boys hurriedly making their way through the people scattered around the room until they get to stand in front of them. Charlie pulls away from his place on Nick's shoulder quickly, thinking they'll separate at the interruption, but Nick doesn't even move. And he keeps his hands exactly where they are.
Charlie blushes at the recognition. The group of guys stares at them for a second, raising their eyebrows at the rugby player.
"Uuh... Sorry mate, we've been looking for you", says the boy with glasses, looking at the other two with a smirk on his lips. "We didn't know you were... busy."
"Piss off, Sai", Nick says with a laugh. He looks at Charlie with a reassuring smile and then back at his friends. "This is Charlie."
The younger boy waves at them shyly, getting wide grins and enthusiastic waves back. He hides his face in his cup, taking several gulps of his drink to avoid looking at them.
"Nice to meet you, Charlie! Name's Christian, Otis, and Sai" says the tall boy with light brown hair, pointing at the other two with his thumb.
"Well, we just wanted to know what you were up to because you always fuck off and end up leaving by yourself when we go out... But clearly, I don't think that's gonna happen" says the third boy, smirk even more prominent and tone incredibly suggestive. Nick rolls his eyes, but he's clearly blushing. Charlie bites his lip, thinking over the implication and avoiding the eyes on him. "We'll leave you alone. None of us are coming back to the flat tonight, just so you know—"
"Okay, thank you, Otis" Nick cuts him off, jaw set and eyes wide. "You guys can leave."
There's a chorus of laughs, a lot nicer and light-hearted than the ones Charlie usually associates with rugby boys, and then the group is leaving, throwing a teasing "bye, Charlie! Bye Nick! Have fun!" over their backs as they move along and disappear in the crowd.
"Your friends seem nice."
"I'm so sorry about them," Nick says, face scrunching up as he apologizes. "They are annoying because they never... They haven't seen me... I-well... I don't-don't really do this." He stares at Charlie, eyes moving towards his hands on the other's hip and the position they are in. "I don't ever... Like, get with people, you know what I mean? At parties or clubs and stuff. I don't even really like going out that much, anyway. And... I hope it's not douche-y or arrogant to say it, but I get "offers" a lot, even more so since I came out. But I never... Yeah." He's so nervous, stuttering over his words and not meeting Charlie's eyes (which are stuck on his face) and he's just so sweet and cute and nice and everything and Charlie feels his heart swell up with fondness. He feels a little bad, thinking about the situation and if he's forcing Nick to do this for his sake when the rugby boy is clearly not someone who usually has strangers sitting on his lap, it seems. Even if it's all just pretend.
As if he's reading his mind, Nick finally meets his eyes, then tightens his arms around Charlie.
"I-I'm okay with this, though. I'm okay here."
Charlie can't help it. He ducks back to the crook of his shoulder, nose running lightly over his neck, and then he drops a barely-there press of lips to Nick's cheek, just to set his head back on his spot.
"I'm okay here, too. Thank you for doing this."
At this point, there's not really a doubt on his mind that they've been sitting here for over an hour, even if he hasn't touched his phone once. They are still tangled on each other, another cup filled to the brim with something sweet for him and Nick finally having switched to a brand new bottle. His hand now rests on Charlie's knee while the other one holds his drink behind his back. They've just been talking, sharing stories, and learning more and more, casually noting what's happening around them. They've remembered the original plan, a few times, when someone with Ben's signature hair —that he probably spends too long in— walks by, going in alert for a second. There's not really much to do about it, though, because they are already in a pretty compromising position already. It's pretty convincing from an outsider's perspective, he thinks. The only thing that would make it more believable would be if they were making out. But his emotions will go into overdrive if he lets himself think about that happening. As if Nick would want to do that, really.
... Would he?
They are entranced talking in hushed whispers, laughing in each other's faces, deep in a theory on whether the two girls next to them are actually just friends gossiping or blatantly flirting, when it happens. There's a group walking around, greeting people as they get closer to their spot, people opening their path as if their presence is important. As they reach the side room, someone separates, heels clicking on the wooden floor as they get closer. It's a girl, all-black outfit with tall boots, hair done in an intricate style that leaves it away from her face for her pink-colored eyeshadow to be visible. Charlie tears his eyes away to look at her, and she turns to them at the same time, recognition dawning on her features.
"Nicholas Nelson!"
"Ginny!" Nick replies, startled. There's a smile on his face when he recognizes her, and something within Charlie burns with jealousy. He furrows his brows and he knows he's pouting, crossing his arms (leaving all subtlety out of the door, really) with the cup still in his hand. His brain registers that he must look like a toddler about to throw a temper tantrum, but he doesn't care. The girl laughs, face amused and pretty and Charlie doesn't like her, as she steps up to them. "I haven't seen you all night!"
"I think I can see why!" she replies smugly, putting her manicured hands on her hips. "You clearly weren't looking for me!"
Charlie can't help but feel a little bit pleased with Nick's lack of interest in moving from their spot, almost placing his arm around Nick's neck before he stops himself. He has no right. He shouldn't be jealous. They are pretending. For the sake of Ben. Or that was the point, a few hours ago.
Nick smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry", he says, clearly not meaning it.
"I forgive you, Nelson, because you seem to be in pretty good company." She wiggles her eyebrows, stepping out to Charlie with her hand stretched in front of her. "Imogen Heaney, this idiot's best friend since Year 7", she says. Charlie's face changes as he recognizes the name. Nick's friend. The one who hangs out with Ben, sometimes. (Also, the one who likes women, Charlie remembers Nick telling him, with something that feels like relief). She turns to Nick after he tells her his name, shaking his hand affectionately. "I am also in pretty good company if you care about your friend's whereabouts."
"What? Did you stop being a coward and actually pull someone? Or you mean the girls?"
"I could ask the same to you", she bites back, and Charlie giggles at Nick's affronted expression. "Unfortunately, I do mean the girls. Oh, and Ben."
She points toward the group, and that's when they both turn... Meeting Ben's eyes.
The boy's gaze is unwavering, clearly set on them, and Charlie thinks if looks could kill, they'd both have daggers stuck to their chests. Ben's face seems red, contrasting with the soft orange hue of the lighting, and his jaw is set, features hard and angry. If he was a cartoon character, his pupils would be red and he'd have smoke coming out of his ears. His hands are set into fists, and he's making an insane effort to seem like he's paying attention to the girl who's talking to him, but his eyes go back to them every few seconds.
Nick looks at him with a question clear on his face. This is it. The moment they've been building up towards, the original plan, the whole point of them being together. Charlie feels nervous all of the sudden, too aware of his place on Nick's lap, and he downs the rest of his drink in one go. He stares back at Nick, anxiously waiting for what happens next when they are already like this with everyone already thinking they are here, clearly together, with no qualms about wrapping themselves in each other's arms in public.
"Soo... You guys seem awfully cozy, don't you?" Imogen breaks the tension, speaking teasingly, a wide grin on her features as she sways side to side. "This is really cute. I am very happy to see you like this, Nicky. You've caught a good one!" She gets closer then, to ruffle Nick's hair and bump Charlie's cheek softly with her knuckles, which makes both of them laugh. Nick moves then, leaving the bottle on the side table and fully wrapping his arms around Charlie, engulfing him and pulling him closer to his chest. He drops a kiss on his temple and Charlie feels himself absolutely melt. Somebody pinch me. I have stopped breathing. I am unwell. I can't do this anymore.
"I did, didn't I?" Nick says, a smirk on his lips, the one that makes only one of the corners go up and his nose scrunch up slightly. Does it mean something that Charlie can already tells his smiles apart?
"Good job, Nelson!" she says, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. She looks back at her friends then, which makes the couple on the couch do so too. Ben is still doing the thing where he pretends he's not looking but he's staring from the corner of his eye, and Charlie recognizes the way he plays with the rings on his fingers angrily, the way he used to do every time he was about to explode when they were together. He narrows his eyes, then lets himself wrap his arm around Nick's neck on his front, just so Ben can see clearly. His ex looks at them straight on, and his adam's apple bobs as he swallows with difficulty, face still looking pissed. The girl in front of him looks back at them, completely oblivious (or not caring) to Ben's expression, as she makes a hand motion to Imogen signaling the bar. "Well, duty calls. I am the designated driver tonight so I have to go make sure they don't get too drunk. You and I are having lunch tomorrow so we can talk" she says with her finger pointing at Nick's face, obviously looking in between them both. She seems to think about it some more, a sly grin appearing on her lips. "Actually, maybe dinner. I think you'll still be busy in the morning."
"Ginny!"
"Goodbye, Nicholas! Nice to meet you, Charlie!", she scurries off, a wiggle of fingers as a wave thrown their way. Charlie sees her coming back to her group, arms interlocking with Ben and the other girl, following a group of others as they make their way towards the bar. Ben takes one last look at them before he goes along.
"Well... It's safe to say that worked."
Charlie laughs at Nick's words, turning around to look him in the eye... And realizing how close they are. Nick and his arms, wrapped tightly around each other leave little to no room between them, noses brushing and their breathing hitting the other's lips. Charlie feels the way he first did when Nick pinned him to the wall all those hours ago, his whole body going hot hot hot hot hot and his stomach turning with those damn butterflies everyone talks about. Their eyes are locked, just breathing into the small space between them, and Charlie is too much of a coward. Because he knows it's not real, know's that Nick is just a sweet and beautiful and handsome and nice and so lovely guy just doing him a favor and having some fun in the process so his mates leave him alone. He knows that after this night, he will go back home and he'll never see Nick again, settling for pathetically following him on Instagram and stalking him when he feels like reminiscing about the moments they spent together. That everything, this entire experience, will just be a night to remember.
Nick backs his head up a little, and of course, the moment is done. Charlie closes his eyes, feeling silly for getting his hopes up even for a second, the tiredness sweeping into his bones and pulling him back towards the sleepy state he has been fighting all night. Then and there, though, he feels something:
a small press of lips in the corner of his mouth.
His eyes snap open, staring at the other boy with his heart on his sleeve, eyes filled with the vulnerability and hope and want and everything he's feeling right this second. Nick smiles at him, that soft beautiful kind smile, moving a hand from his waist so he can reach for the curls that have fallen on Charlie's forehead, moving them away and running his hands through his hair. A small hum leaves Charlie's lips and he closes his eyes again, Nick laughing quietly as he does so.
"I think it's time we get you home."
There's nothing more unexpected than running into Ben as they are trying to leave the room.
They thought that was over. He saw them, stared at them more like, and the situation was (seemed? looked like? was believable enough?) pretty obvious, enough for anyone to catch on. But he's standing there, alone in a corner, face set into something suspiciously neutral for someone who usually only thrives when being surrounded by people and paid attention to. The guy has his arms crossed over his chest and his fingers are playing with his silver rings, turning them over and over again on his knuckles. And when he spots Nick, arm on Charlie's waist, guiding him through the crowd of people, he steps in front of them and musters up a million-watt smile, clasps a hand to Nick's shoulders as if they are best friends.
"Nick Nelson! How are you, lad?"
"Oh, hi Ben. Alright", he gives him a short nod, pushing Charlie to his other side slightly, something like protectiveness taking over his features. Charlie smiles, enamored by the action, placing a hand on Nick's chest. He's sure he looks like a lovestruck idiot, but it works for the part (yeah, totally not real) he's playing, so it's not really much of a problem. "You've seen Ginny? I just wanted to let her know I'm leaving."
Ben's eyes search for Charlie's, moving his head around so he can look at him. Charlie's eyes harden, his smile wiping off his face and he actually scoffs at Ben, leans more into Nick's hand, head resting on his shoulder.
"Not really. She's off somewhere with the girls—hey, listen...", he gestures over to Charlie, then. An innocent look taking over his expression. "You sure you don't want me to get him off your hands, mate?"
Nick's expression changes, almost looking appalled at the suggestion. His eyes look angry, and his mouth is set on a thin line. It's the face of someone who very much is ready to raise a fist and connect it to the other boy's face at any given second. He seems to think for a moment, staring intently at Ben with a smirk appearing upon his lips. His arm around Charlie is tighter now, pulling him close to his side.
"Oh no, don't worry. I'm coming home with him" is what he says, and then, he fucking winks.
Ben is clearly stunned, mouth agape with no sounds coming out of him. No one has ever left Ben Hope speechless, and it's such a sight to witness. He looks in between not understanding what's going on, and not wanting to believe it.
Charlie wants to kiss Nick's face off more than ever, but he settles for being whisked away by the older boy, giving a look and a smug smirk to Ben over his shoulder, leaving his ex standing there with an expression that screams defeat.
"Nicholas. Luke. Nelson."
"Darcy. Olsson."
They are in the parking lot of the hotel Harry's rented along with a swarm of other groups of teenagers and young adults mingling before leaving the premises, the night sky shining with stars above them, and Charlie recognizes his friend's voice, even is he doesn't actually see her. His eyes are closed and his head is leaning on Nick's arm, both hands secured around the other's bicep. He feels out of it, dizzier than he has been for the entirety of the night, his limbs feeling like jelly, and all he wants is to drop down to the floor and take a nap on the concrete. Seems comfortable enough.
Nick had moved him from his lap, guiding him from behind with both hands on his waist as support, until they had managed to find the exit of the huge venue. Charlie doesn't really know what time it is, but half of the party seems to have the same idea about heading home or at least leaving the hotel, as the parking lot is packed with people getting into cars or talking while leaning onto them. He doesn't really know where he's going, but he honestly doesn't care as long as Nick is with him for a little longer.
"And Charlie Spring! Triumph at last! You really went and bloody did it, didn't you?" Charlie opens his eyes slightly just to see her smug expression. If he was sober, he would be dead of embarrassment at what Darcy's words imply, at Nick's confused stare thrown his way. But because he can't really keep himself standing properly and his thoughts are cloudy, he smiles lazily at her and gives her a thumbs up. She laughs loudly, flicking the cigarette in her hand with a quick movement, then bringing it back to her lips and taking a drag before speaking. "Where are you lovebirds heading to, huh?"
"Do you know where he lives?" he hears Nick speak. He's about to answer himself but furrows his eyebrows when he can't really think of the proper directions beyond "near the corner shop, building tall, tiny balconies, pretty flowers".
"Oh, I see how it is," Darcy says teasingly, making a ridiculous expression and shimming her shoulders. Charlie laughs, losing his balance for a moment before Nick's hand is on the small of his back again, keeping him steady. "Spending the night, Nelson?"
"Dars, I'm just taking him home. I don't know where his friends are and I can't let him leave alone." She lets out an exaggerated dreamy sigh, moving the hand that holds the cigarette around in mock drama.
"Nick Nelson, the man that you are! Proper gentlemen and all", she says with a thick posh accent. He catches the way Nick rolls his eyes but a smile is playing in the corner of his lips. Charlie wants to kiss it so bad it's insane. "You're right, though. Jonesy is in the bathroom but I have no idea where the rest went. I'll text you his address."
"Thank you, you're the best! I'll see you around, Dars" Nick starts pulling him in the opposite direction towards the parked cars.
"Don't think you're getting away with this so easily, though! Both of you, expect a call from me and I want details!" Darcy yells behind them.
They finally get to Nick's car, a dark-colored truck Charlie can't distinguish well with his tired eyes, and he's being gently pushed down on the passenger's seat. There are gentle hands moving him around until he's proper up, then the seatbelt is secured on his chest. He feels a hand running through the curls on his forehead and leans into the touch. The warmth of Nick next to him leaves too quickly for his liking and the door on his side is closing.
The last thing he remembers before dozing off is the sound of the engine starting.
When Charlie wakes up the next morning, he immediately feels like closing his eyes again because the sunlight feels like it's burning his retinas. His head is pounding and his whole body feels like there are weights tied around his limbs, movements lazy as he stretches in an effort to get some relief. He is wrapped around in several blankets, half of the fabric laying on his bedroom floor, and his mouth feels like someone stuck a sponge down his throat. He pulls himself up slowly, thinking about whether he actually needs water to survive or not and almost convincing himself stay in bed but unfortunately, he also has to go to the bathroom, so he gets up and moves around the space with dragged steps. He finishes up his business, deciding to quickly brush his teeth to get the rotten taste out of his mouth, and splashes some water on his face without spending too much time looking in the mirror because those bags under his eyes will not be pretty. Charlie moves back to his room, finally taking his state of dress in the mirror; he's not fully wearing the clothes he was in the night before, only his pajama shorts and the shirt he went to the party with falling down his midthigh. He furrows his brows, but he's thankful that he didn't sleep in jeans because that seems like an uncomfortable nightmare. Quickly, he remembers the reason why we got up in the first place and moves towards his small kitchen, desperate for some liquid.
On the threshold, though, he stops dead in his tracks.
There's someone standing there, in front of the kettle, back to Charlie. There's a guy, standing in his kitchen.
The memories come rushing back, all of the sudden.
There's Nick Nelson, standing in Charlie's kitchen, in front of the kettle.
He can't help the gasp that leaves his lips, which makes Nick turn around to look at him. Charlie feels all of the emotions from last night appearing, filling his chest, making him slightly breathless, because Nick is smiling at him, face soft and eyes sleepy, hair sticking every way but still looking somehow good. Charlie takes him in, discreetly looking him up and down and noticing that those are not the clothes he was wearing the night before, but he's in Charlie's clothes, clearly the wrong fit with the way the bottom of the joggers only reach his mid-calf and the t-shirt (which is actually too big for Charlie) hugging his chest too tight. Not that he's complaining, really. It's quite a sight, his biceps bulging out of the fabric. The taller boy notices, looking down at himself.
"Sorry, I hope you don't mind," Nick says, voice groggy and husky with sleep, and all Charlie can think is Jesus Christ why am I being tested. "My clothes were too uncomfortable to sleep in. Anyways, how are you feeling?"
Charlie steps closer carefully, still processing the events of the night, his face flushing with embarrassment. The way he had spoken to Nick, the excessive flirting, the innuendos, sitting on his lap, for fuck's sake. He's never drinking again.
"I... Awful, to be honest", he settles for answering, and it gets a chuckle out of Nick. "How do people drink for fun?"
"Well, most smart people don't go all out in their first time properly drinking. Also, they aren't lightweights."
"Hey!"
Nick laughs soundly and Charlie feels proud of it, smiles shyly at the other boy as he steps closer into the kitchen. He catches two mugs on the counter and his heart swells at the sight, letting himself imagine a life where this is a routine; Nick making coffee for two in the mornings, standing in his apartment kitchen with sheet marks on his face and wearing Charlie's clothes.
"Don't know how to work the kettle?" Charlie asks, snapping himself out of his imagination. He steps in and pushes the tiny lever on the side down, bringing the artifact to life with a blue light turning on at the bottom. "Fancy new thing, a gift from my friend Elle."
"I prefer tradition. My mum didn't raise me like this." Nick does the nose-scrunch thing and Charlie laughs, the fondness too overbearing for him to continue looking at the other boy. He turns around then, catching the sight of his small living room and noticing the cushions of his couch being all on one side, the throw blanket messily laying on the armrest. "Did... Did you sleep on the couch?"
Nick's face goes red and he brings his right hand to the left side of his neck, rubbing the skin there. Charlie has flashbacks of his nose running along that same place before pressing a kiss on the other boy's cheek. He was bold for that one, doesn't regret it one bit.
"I-Yeah... I hope that's okay. It was too late and I live a little far away from here, so I thought it was safer. I-um... You also kind of... Asked me to?"
Charlie thinks for a second, shuts his eyes tightly when he begins remembering.
"I asked you to stay here?" "Yeah" "But I told you to stay...", his thumb points back towards the direction of his room. "... There, didn't I?" "Um, yup. You also asked me to give you my shirt to sleep in when I was trying to ger you to change into your pajamas. We came to a compromise."
He shakes his head, bringing his hands towards his face to cover it in embarrassment. Nick lets out a laugh, bops his side gently with the back of his hand.
"Hey, honestly? Not the boldest thing you told me last night."
"Oh my God, please shut up. I'm never drinking again."
Nick laughs again, as Charlie runs a hand down his face and moves to prop himself up and sit on the counter. The other boy turns to face him, back against the opposite corner. Their eyes meet and they both smile goofily.
Charlie remembers everything now, all the events passing through his brain; every interaction and touch, every smile and story, all the whispers and looks...
Ben's face. The whole point. The idea of fake flirting to prove Ben wrong.
"All things considered, the plan really worked, didn't it?" Charlie says, hoping the light tone is hiding the little bit of sadness in his voice.
That's all it was. A plan, pretending, acting. At least, for Nick. A favor he's done with. In a little, he'll walk out of Charlie's life, leaving him lamely stalking his Instagram stories and begging for a sight of him around campus when Charlie begins his uni classes in Leeds in a month. Nick is going to walk out of his life today. And that wonderful night will be in the past. "I don't think I've ever seen Ben so pissed. We are a good team, really good job at pretending."
There's something in Nick's expression. He's looking down like he's battling something in his mind. His eyebrows are drawn together and Charlie still has the same need as last night to run his finger on them to stop them. After a few beats of silence, the kettle makes a noise, signaling that it's done. The older boy turns away, pouring the coffee on the mugs. While he has his back to Charlie, he speaks again.
"Yeah, well... I think it worked really well... Because I don't think we were pretending."
Charlie freezes.
"I... What?"
"I don't think I was ever pretending, Charlie. And... Maybe this is me just hoping... But I don't think you were either." Charlie's eyes are focused on the muscles of Nick's back moving as he does something in front of him, keeping his hands busy. His voice is shaky and barely a whisper. And he's refusing to turn around. "I-I don't know... Maybe you were. And I'm sorry if that was the case and I'm being dumb and reaching and making you uncomfortable. But... I wasn't. I never was."
There's a beat of silence, the sound of the ceramic mugs being set down on the counter. Nick's breathing.
There's a hand, reaching out. Charlie leans forward, still from his place on the counter, and grabs the fabric of Nick's (his) shirt tightly, pulling on it until he hears the other boy take a deep breath and turn around. His cheeks are splotchy, his hair is a mess and the collar of the t-shirt is stretched and frayed. His face is worried, jaw set tightly, and when Charlie looks down a bit, he can see his hands are shaking.
He's the most beautiful person he's ever met.
When he hooks his hand in the front of his shirt and reaches forward, Nick steps in clumsily, reminding him of himself last night, of the way Nick spent the whole time keeping him steady, taking care of him, making sure he was safe. He wants to hit himself for being so oblivious. How could he ever wonder if that was real or not? Nick Neson, with his dashing smile, his pretty eyes, his insane body, his gentle hands, his charming personality, and the softness in which he treated Charlie all night, the way he reciprocated all the touches if he didn't initiate them, the way he had flushed when his friends teased him about Charlie and had answered "I did, didn't I?" to Imogen. It was all right there. All the time. And none of it was pretending.
He's standing in front of him now, in between Charlie's legs, which he hooks behind Nick's back. The auburn-haired boy's hands are set on his hips softly, tentatively, like he's scared of making any sudden movements. Charlie brings his other hand to his cheek, almost faints at the way Nick leans into the touch. He looks into his eyes from under his eyelashes, hoping he's conveying everything he feels and has felt ever since laying eyes on this boy.
"You know what? I... I actually am... A terrible actor. Could not pretend if my life depended on it."
The laughter that comes out of Nick is surprised, almost sounding delirious the way Charlie did when he spoke to him for the first time. Like he can't believe this is happening. Pride and smugness and joy mix in Charlie's chest, not believing this is really happening either. Somebody pinch me. I have stopped breathing. I am unwell. I can't do this anymore.
He gives up, then. He gives up waiting. He stops all of the self-doubt, all of his resistance, because he can't do that anymore, can't pretend like he doesn't want to do this. So, he tugs on Nick's shirt, until there's little to no space between them, and brings his lips up to him, finally.
They kiss for hours, it seems. But Charlie doesn't really know because he's too lost in the feeling. His hands are tugging at Nick's hair, Nick's roaming through his torso and his thighs, wrapping his arms fully around him like he did on the couch and they are laughing every once in a while, smiling at each other with lovesick stares. When they pull apart for a little longer, Charlie runs his nose up the expanse of Nick's neck, then presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Nick smiles so much he's pretty sure his cheeks are going to hurt.
"I need a favor from you", Charlie whispers then, a smile tugging at his lips. Nick laughs softly, and wraps both of his arms around Charlie again pulling him impossibly closer, the younger boy letting his forearms rest on his shoulders.
"Okay, sure. How can I help you?" Nick answers playfully, cocking his head to his side as a smirk appears in his mouth. Charlie can't help but kiss it.
"... Stay?"
Nick sighs, shaking his head softly, the smile back in full force on his face. His expression is filled with fondness and Charlie is sure his is an exact copy. It was been there since last night and it’s not going anywhere. He burrows his face on Charlie's neck.
"Yeah. I guess so. I'm up for some coffee. Even if it's probably gone cold by now."
Charlie's phone was been blowing up with messages, beginning with worry and his friends asking if he made it home safe, slowly turning into teasing after they've found out who exactly he had left with the prior night, each text begging for detail and mercilessly throwing innuendos his way. Nick's phone is similar, with his groupchat he has with his rugby friends filled with the text-version of wolf whitles and congratulations. Darcy does indeed call both of them, true to her word, later in the day. A million missed calls and voice messages of her and Tara mocking them about how the night ended, angry at themselves for not having introduced them earlier.
Neither of them are answered. They are too busy sleeping the day off, tangled up in Charlie's bed with blankets wrapped around them, soft whispers and touches filling the space in the otherwise silent room, making up for lost time. And when Nick has to send a text to Imogen apologizing and asking for a rain-check on that dinner, she sends him a smirk and side-eye emoji, many of slightly lewd memes, followed up by a repetition of what she had said the night before:
you've caught a good one, nicky!<3