Value For Money

by bordercollie111

Summary:

After a bad breakup leaves accountant Charlie single and almost bankrupt, he leaves London for a fresh start in Leeds, and a new job at Oseman PLC. Teacher Nick is struggling to make ends meet after his divorce. There's instant attraction when they meet but can these two rom-com fans make a new relationship work with all their baggage and financial woes?

Notes:

• For Infinite_reads.

Welcome to my new story! And it's a fluffball!
Low angst, happy ending.

Many thanks to HanKitchman for the beta-reading. I was trying to juggle writing other stories, a change of job and a million other things, so this story went off the rails a few times, but thanks to Han, it's sparkly and fluffy and makes sense. I hope.

This story is my second gift to my fabulous friend and regular beta reader, Claire (Infinite Reads). I hope you like this one, Claire!!

Chapter 1: Chapter One

NETFLIX PRESENTS

Value For Money

Director and Producer: Washington Vaughn

Starring: Adam Callo and Kai Fernandes

Filmed On Location in Ontario, Canada, with thanks to Ontario Film Board

Langston King seems to have it all; he’s the best tight end in the NFL, he’s handsome, wealthy and popular. But he's also thirty-five and knows his career could be over any day. Freddie Mendoza is desperate to make a good impression as a newbie sports agent. When they meet, sparks fly! Can they work together to keep Langston playing… and maybe, just maybe… find the love they never knew they needed?

Coming to NETFLIX on Monday!

–

Chapter One

Charlie

 “’Ey there! Welcome t’Oseman PLC! Value for Money!”

Okay… the receptionist is way bubblier and friendlier than any I’ve met in London.

But you’re not in London anymore, Charlie.

She’s grinning at me, her pink and black braids swishing slightly as she bounces from side to side in her chair. Do I have something on my face? Or is she on drugs? Why is she so happy? 

“Err, hello,” I reply, trying to smile back. “My name is Charlie Spring. I’m starting in the accounts department today. I’m supposed to report to Harry Greene, Head of Accounting?”

“O.M. Wow!” the receptionist cries, spinning in her chair and standing up. “It’s your first day!”

She walks around her desk and sticks out her hand. She’s wearing a black jumpsuit thing with an arm full of bangles and bracelets, and bright pink nails. I take her hand tentatively but she grabs it and gives it an almighty shake. I think my shoulder might have dislocated. Jeez…

“My name’s Sasha and I’m on t’front Monday while Wednesday, then I go t’uni Thursday and Friday, and Carrie takes over. She’s well nice, but kind of forward, you know?”

I suppress a nervous chuckle. If Carrie is more forward than Sasha, I dread to think what she'll be like.

“Right… well…”

“Som’at’s happened with Harry though,” Sasha interjects conspiratorially. “He’s been put on ‘special leave.’ You’ll be reporting to Darcy, Darcy Jones. She’s Head of Marketing.”

“Marketing? But I’m an accountant?”

Oh God, what’s happening? I can feel my pulse already beginning to rise with stress. Have I been transferred to another department? What the fuck do I know about marketing?

“Chill your beans, love!” Sasha says, patting my shoulder. “Company policy. If the head of the new employee’s department can’t do their induction meeting, then one of t’other heads steps in.”

“Oh.”

“You’re a Nervous Nigel, aren’t ya?” Sasha says, returning to her chair. “We don’t bite here! Promise!”

“Sorry, I just…” I pause to take a calming breath. “I’m new to Leeds. I moved for this job from London. It’s just been a lot in a short space of time.”

“Nah, you’re all good.” She gives me a temporary access card and points to a barrier. “Tap your card, turn left, take t’ lift to the 5 th floor and Darcy’s office is at t’ far end of t’ workspace.” Sasha winks at me. “Good luck, Charlie Spring! Just call if you need owt!”

--

Oseman PLC is a retail chain of mid-range department stores, with the flagship store and HQ in Leeds. The company's signature colours are green and pink, and the whole building is decorated in a multitude of shades. The offices are very fancy, lots of glass, fresh flowers and luxury furniture. However, it’s also got a warm and homely feeling. And, as I walk towards Darcy’s office, everyone in the open-plan office says hello.

If I thought Sasha was welcoming, Darcy takes it to a whole other level.

“Fantastic! You’re finally here!” she says, jumping up from her large desk when I knock on her open door. “Charlie Spring! That’s such a cool name by the way! I’m Darcy Jones, but call me Darcy, or Darce, or Darc-a-licious! Whatever you like, really. My pronouns are ‘she/her’ officially, but I’m on a bit of an identity journey. So perhaps I’m more of a ‘they’ person, you know?”

Wow. That was a lot of information all at once. I grab a hold of the last thing Darcy mentioned and say, “I guess I’ll use both interchangeably, until you tell me otherwise?” God I sound like a moron. I straighten up and try to brush it off but Darcy just beams at me like she hasn’t noticed I’m an idiot. “So, you knew who I was?”

“Sasha-the-Basher gave me a heads-up,” Darcy replies with a big grin. Sasha-the-Basher? “Come in! Sit! What’s your caffeine delivery method of choice? You strike me as an Americano with a splash of hot milk kinda person, but I’m very happy to be wrong!”

Okay, they’re good. Coffee is life after all.

“That would be perfect, thanks,” I reply, taking a seat on one of two bright pink and green floral armchairs in the corner of the office.

Darcy, who I think is about my age, with cropped blonde hair, the ends dyed pink, turns to the sleek coffee machine behind her. She takes some milk from a mini-fridge, pours it into the frother and two minutes later has made a perfect Americano with hot milk for me, and a double espresso for herself.

“So, I guess you’re wondering why I’m doing your induction and not Harry,” she says, after glugging half her coffee in one go.

“Sasha downstairs said something about ‘special leave?’”

“’Special leave’ is company code for ‘got caught making out with the work placement girl in the supply cupboard,’ the sleaze.”

She shudders with disgust, and so do I.

“An adult work placement girl, I hope?”

“Eighteen, thankfully. Still a sixth former though,” Darcy replies. “Anyways, he’s probably going to get the sack.” She says this in a worryingly blasé tone, which either suggests Harry was not at all liked, or that sacking is a common occurrence here. I'm hoping it's the former and not the latter. “James has agreed, literally today, to temporarily take on the role until a new Head of Accounting is appointed, but that probably won’t be for a couple months.”

“So it’s a bit unstable in Accounts at the moment?” Great. That’s the last thing I need.

“Nah, without Harry being a giant dick-nozzle all the time, it’s probably far nicer up there.” She leans back in her chair and peruses me for a moment, before grinning again. “So Charlie Spring, I read your CV but it tells me shockingly little about why someone who’s been in London for twenty years chooses to move solo all the way up here to Leeds.”

I should have known this would come up.

“Well, London was no longer serving me…” I pause so I don’t fucking cry. “I needed a fresh start, new city, new… life.”

Darcy raises an eyebrow. “Bastard ex, or bastard job?” they ask gently.

“Both,” I murmur. “My ex and I ran a financial advice firm together, specialising in sustainable finance planning for small and medium-sized businesses… But then he went and slept with the MD of our biggest client.”

“Oh shit!”

“Right? Gets worse. He then tried to extort £100K from her. The client went on social media so all our other clients found out…”

“And so they all took their business elsewhere.” I am starting to really like Darcy. She/they are totally whip-smart. “Man, that sucks. Still, London’s loss is our gain.”

“You might find that I’m a terrible accountant, or a real dick,” I reply, finally finding it in me to smile at her.

“You’re not though, are you?” they say softly. “I know a good soul when I meet one. You’re total VFM!”

“’VFM?’”

“Value For Money,” Darcy responds, her bright eyes twinkling. “Like Oseman’s tagline.” She points to the framed green and pink Oseman PLC poster on the wall and sure enough, underneath the company logo reads 'Value For Money'. It's pretty basic as far as company taglines go, but I guess it does spell out their ethos pretty clearly. She leans forward and points at my chest. “Charlie Spring, I already know that you are the whole package. Smart, kind, generous and cute. And I say that as a total lesbian.”

“Have you, uh, ‘VFM’ experience then? When it comes to people, I mean.”

Darcy smiles softly.

“Yeah.”

I follow their eyes and see that there’s a wedding photo on her desk. Darcy is wearing a white suit with a pink shirt and orange bow-tie. Her wife, an absolutely gorgeous, curvy black femme, is in a princess-style white wedding dress with pink and orange beading, holding a pink and orange bouquet.

“Your wife is beautiful,” I murmur.

“That’s my Tara,” she replies proudly. “She’s a dance teacher; she’s beautiful, intelligent, grounded, and the absolute love of my life.”

I feel gushy at how romantically Darcy describes her wife, but also very envious. I always wanted that kind of love. Even though I was with Ben for years, I knew we didn’t have the thing . The magic. That deep, romantic, movie-worthy love.

“You’re very lucky,” I manage to croak.

“I know,” they reply, stroking their thumb over Tara’s picture before looking back at me. “Hey, I’ll totally look out for you here. You’re a fellow gay! The gays of Leeds stick together!” She laughs but then adds, “oh and the bi-babies and pan-cakes and the other queers. We’re all-inclusive here.”

“Good to know,” I reply, relaxing just a little more. “Very good to know.”

--

“Hey Charlie!”

“Hiya!”

“Ey up, Charlie!”

The Accounts team is also very friendly. Is it an Oseman thing? Maybe it’s just a Leeds thing. Or a Yorkshire thing? They do say that people are friendlier in the North.

“Hi Charlie, I’m James McEwan,” a tall, lanky dark-haired guy my age says. “Acting Head of Accounts as of…,” he checks his watch, “two hours ago! Welcome to Oseman PLC. It is good to have you here. We are so short-staffed right now, it’s tragic.”

There are murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team in the open-plan office.

“Yeah, I heard that from Darcy,” I reply. “I’m looking forward to getting started.”

“Cool!” James beams at me. He’s kind of cute but, after Ben, I have a very clear ‘no work colleagues’ policy. “Now, did they tell you that we have an in-house accounts system? It’s very straightforward though. You’ll pick it up in no time.”

“Someone sent me a user guide and login details.”

“That was me!” A petite, curvy Arab girl with amazing waist-length blue-black hair and a gold hoop in her nose waves at me. “I’m Sahar, one of the accounts admin officers.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reply. “Thanks for the information.”

“Oh, you are so welcome,” she says, giving me a thumbs-up. “The software’s great but you’ll soon see that we’re all a bit of a mess to be honest. We just don’t seem to manage to organise ourselves well so that we’re working efficiently as a crew, and we’re not getting the best from the software.”

“Oh, I have some experience in that,” I tell them. “My specialty is workflow, communication and organisation.”

The team starts chattering excitedly and, as James shows me to my desk, I start to feel like maybe, just maybe, moving here was a good decision.

--

I return to the short-term flat Oseman PLC have put me in as part of the relocation package. It’s about ten minutes’ walk from work, bang-slap in the middle of Leeds City Centre. That would be great for some people, but living in a flat above a PC World and opposite a cinema and nightclub is serious sensory overload.

I need to find something more long-term, but Leeds isn’t as cheap as I was led to believe, and thanks to Ben’s thieving, cheating arse, I’m almost completely broke. I’ve barely got enough for a first month’s deposit.

Sighing, I sign into Netflix using my best friend Tao’s login; he’s a big film buff but he hardly watches Netflix, so I never get booted off his account. He insisted I have my own profile though, because he didn’t want me messing up the tailored algorithm he spent days creating. For an app he never uses.

You see, to Tao’s absolute horror, my guilty pleasure is truly shit, utterly predictable, low-angst rom-coms. Seriously, the sappier the better. And I love all the common tropes. Friends to lovers. Enemies to lovers. Opposites attract. Holiday romance. Boss and employee. Mutual friends/exes. Mistaken identity. Wrong number. Self discovery. Soulmates. You name it, I’ll devour it.

I flick through the new titles and immediately spot one called… wait for it… Value For Money ! The picture is of a hot, built fair guy and a nerdy, twinky brunet man in each other’s arms. I’m all in already.

I make myself a rubbish dinner of cheap instant noodles with frozen vegetables but then treat myself to a mug of cocoa as I get absorbed in the story of Langston, an American football player who is coming to the end of his career, and Freddie, a rookie sports agent trying to make it in the big bad world of American sports.

Within ten minutes, I know that Value for Money is going on my rewatch list. The guys are hot, especially Langston. Sigh. Big and buff and blond, yet total cuddle-bug. His chemistry with Freddie is sizzling. They appear different on the surface, but have loads in common, and both are desperately lonely. Love it, love it, love it!

I go to bed that night and sleep properly for the first time in ages, dreaming of having my own romantic movie with a Langston lookalike. Everything’s going to be alright. Somehow, my first day at Oseman, coupled with the joy of watching Value for Money, gives my soul a bit of hope.

**** 

Nick

I’m just getting into my car when my phone lights up with a call. It’s my best friend Tara, who is just pure sunshine.

“Tara! Hello!”

“Nicholas! Hiya! How are you? What’cha doing?”

“Just leaving work. I’m heading home to have dinner in front of some gloriously basic TV.”

“Why are you still at work, babe? It’s after six!”

“I’m doing after-school clubs this term, so yeah, it means I’m the last one out,” I tell her.

“But aren’t you also doing Breakfast Club?”

“Yeah… so?”

“Five days a week from 7.30 in the morning to six at night? Plus lesson planning at home? Nick, that’s insane. You’ll burn yourself out.”

“What choice do I have, T?” I feel the frustration rise into my throat. “My mortgage has doubled since Annie left. It’s either work more, or lose my home.”

“Oh Nick,”  Tara murmurs into the phone. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just let me grumble and moan at you from time to time,” I tell her. “Anyway, how are you and Darcy?”

“We’re good,”  she says. I can tell that Tara’s not happy I’ve changed the subject but she’s letting it go. For now. “Darcy’s gone spinning after work so she’s not back yet. Our new TV was finally delivered so we’re going to get that set up and maybe watch a movie. Any recommendations? What are you watching this evening?”

“Rugby highlights,” I answer automatically, to cover what I really want to watch.

“Really?” Tara sounds sceptical. “Because there’s a new rom-com out. It’s called Value For Money.”

Of course I know that. I love films like that. It’s been on my Netflix ‘Coming Soon’ list for ages.

“Oh yeah?” I say dismissively. “I’ll look out for it.”

She laughs down the phone. Full-on chortles.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, clearly not believing my nonchalance for a second. “ Anyway, I’d better go get dinner on. Love you! Take care of yourself!”

“Bye Tara, see you soon.”

I get home and eat my boring dinner of cheese and onion potato pie; it’s the most edible recipe out of the ancient Meals on a Budget cookbook I found in my mum’s basement, because it’s really just mashed potato with onion and cheese on top. Not great for my widening tummy, but comforting. Then I make a cup of tea, take out a packet of bourbon biscuits, more comfort, and turn on the TV.

Value For Money seems like it will be exactly what I need tonight. I love rom-coms, but when it’s a gay rom-com, I’m all in and then some. And the picture tab is hot! An absolutely stunning dark-haired guy with narrow hips and a cute little round bum, in the arms of a muscly, blond sporty dude. Yep, I’m going to enjoy this.

By the time the movie, my tea and the whole pack of biscuits are finished, I’m grinning and hugging a cushion. Freddie and Langston are my new favourite movie couple, and I already know I’m going to be rewatching Value For Money at least half a dozen times this week.

That night, I find myself dreaming of being in bed with a guy who kind of looks like Freddie, but far more gorgeous, inside and out. In the dream he holds me in his arms, presses loving kisses to my shoulder, my neck, my jaw and then the side of my mouth. His lean body is warm and smooth, and I feel completely safe with him. Then his fingers start to trail down my bare chest, teasing my nipples, tracing my pecs and my abs, before teasing my belly button. Then he goes for my happy trail, and I’m aching for him to go lower.

Just as his hand starts to move to where I’m desperate for it to be, the blare of my 6am alarm interrupts, rudely rousing me and making the Freddie-like Adonis in my dreams disappear. Of course, I wake up harder than steel, so make my way to the shower to wank and wash, and then get myself ready for the day.

To my surprise, Tara is already in the staff room when I get to work. She’s a dance teacher, and comes into my school twice a week to lead dance sessions for our pupils. On the other days of the week she works at two other schools, and teaches ballet fitness at a couple of local gyms.

“What are you doing here so early?” I say as she gets up and gives me a big hug. Her chunky, short braids tickle my neck, which I find very comforting.

“I thought I’d give you a hand at Breakfast Club,” she says. She holds up a delicious-smelling paper bag. “And I brought you warm pastries.”

“Oh, I love you!” I cry, and take the bag from her. “I shouldn’t really,” I begin, patting my tubby belly, “but I can’t resist.”

“Stop with the negative talk,” Tara chastises. “You’re gorgeous, Nick love.”

I shrug and try to move on.

“But seriously, what’s brought you down here first thing? Normally you grab every wink of sleep you can get.”

She sits down and I join her on the battered grey sofa.

“I’m worried about you, Nick,” she murmurs. I freeze with an almond croissant halfway to my mouth. “It’s been a year and a half since Annie left and all you do is work, eat, sleep and watch TV.”

“I go to the gym too,” I protest. Well, occasionally.

“Only because you’ve stopped playing rugby, babe, your favourite thing.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “That’s when I really started to worry. You focus on the physical impact…” Her eyes stray to my spare tyre. “But I worry about the mental impact.”

I sigh. I love rugby. I’ve played since I was a kid and always used it to channel my negative emotions. But I can’t work five eleven-hour days and keep up with training three nights a week, not to mention matches. So now I go to the gym a couple of times a week, if that. But, even when I do make it to the gym, it barely scratches the surface of tackling my stress. 

“I miss rugby,” I admit. “But I’ll get back to it when my finances are better. Hopefully by next season I’ll be playing again.”

“Maybe it’s time to get some financial advice,” she suggests. “Perhaps there are tax things or remortgaging that you can look at.”

“That kind of advice costs money, T,” I sigh. “Money I don’t have.”

“I suppose,” she begins, but then lifts her head from my shoulder. “Wait, you love researching things… have you researched ways to save money?”

“Of course—”

“On social media?” she presses. “More casual, personal advice than Google can give you.”

“What? No, why would I get advice from some random influencer?”

“I think there’s sensible advice out there if you look in the right places and park some of your scepticism, Nick,” she says and I can tell she’s trying not to be frustrated with me. “Just have a look tonight, okay? You’ve still got Instagram, right?”

“Yeah, okay,” I agree, and finally take a bite of my croissant.

--

That night, as I load up Value for Money on Netflix once again, I pick up my phone and open my hardly-used Instagram account. I go to the search and type in ‘sensible money saving advice’ and see what comes up.

As I feared, a lot of it is crap. Lots of glam-looking influencers basically selling pyramid schemes and ‘experts’ talking about investments and cutting out Starbucks. I have no money to invest and I hate coffee.

I’m just about to give up when I spot a picture of two beautifully elegant hands. Long fingers, short nails, a few scattered dark hairs. I doubt it’s got anything to do with saving, but I click on it anyway. I kind of have a thing for hands.

@accountantneedstosave: So… life recently dealt me a crap hand. At the age of thirty-six, I’m almost broke and starting afresh in a new city. Ironically, I’m an accountant! I don’t have aspirations of becoming an influencer or anything like that. In fact I kind of dislike social media! But I thought I’d use Instagram as a way of documenting what works and what doesn’t to help me save money and build some wealth again. C

Thirty-six minutes ago.

I click ‘follow’ immediately, intrigued and also kind of relieved that someone else is in the same boat. I wonder what happened to C with the lovely hands. Maybe he’s just gone through a divorce like me. Or was he made redundant? Had his life savings stolen in a scam?

I scroll below C’s post and find another few useful-looking accounts. One talks about structured ways to approach debt and another compares different shops to find bargains and value. The final one talks about leisure time on a budget.

@Immy_cheapthrills_UK: I’m a big shopaholic but right now, I just don’t have much disposable income to spare. So how do I get my shopping buzz without breaking the bank? Charity shops! I set myself a budget of £5 or £10 in cash and deliberately don’t take anything else with me. Then I’ll go to my local parade of charity shops. I can buy whatever I want within the budget, and if I’ve got leftover money, I buy myself a sweet treat or coffee. This may not be your thing or you might not have the money to spend, and that’s absolutely okay. This is just something that works for me to keep my impulse-buying in check.

My cottage isn’t far from a road with a whole bunch of charity shops. I used to go there sometimes with Annie but never really looked at stuff myself. I mainly just held her things. Maybe I should give this a try. It will get me out of the house and if I hate it, I can use the fiver to buy myself some nice treats from the Marks and Spencer opposite. Okay, yeah, this Saturday, I’ll go see if I can find any bargains.

Before I go to sleep, I text Tara.

N: Okay, I went on Instagram and it wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had…

T: Told you! Are you feeling a tiny bit better?

N: I am. Going to explore some charity shops this Saturday. Want to come with?

T: Sorry, babe. Darcy and I are heading to Manchester for some mooching, Chinese food and a gig. Little Simz.

I can’t help but feel a pang of envy. Once upon a time I’d have gone with them to Manchester. Maybe not to see Little Simz, who is far too cool for me, but for the mooching and Chinese food, for sure.

N: Oh yeah, I forgot! See you in school Thursday?

T: Yep, see you then xx

With a sigh I shut off my phone and turn out the light, hoping for another Freddie dream.

-cXc-

 

 

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Summary:

Charlie goes flathunting. Nick follows some internet advice.

Notes:

Thank you so much for all your comments on the first chapter!
This story came about in part by seeing Leeds through the eyes of a newcomer to the city, and just falling in love with it all over again, so a lot of real places are referenced here!

Big thanks to fellow Leeds resident HanKitchman for the beta reads!

  Chapter Two

Charlie

By the Friday of my first week, I’ve settled in quite nicely at Oseman PLC. Although an open-plan office would normally be my idea of hell, when the team is working, they are working . All I hear is typing, the occasional sound of a coffee cup being put down, and the faint buzz of computer processors. While we're allowed to text at our desks, telephone calls have to be taken in a separate workspace, known as ‘The Chatbox’ and there are meeting rooms for any shared work. 

However, outside of working time, the team is very friendly and chatty. They talk about work, sure, but also about their families, friends, recipes, holidays, everything. The last time I worked for a big company, nobody talked to each other apart from work stuff. 

After bringing plain cheese sandwiches and apples for lunch all week, I find out that Oseman has a massively subsidised staff canteen, so I treat myself to a huge portion of fish and chips for just £4. It comes with both mushy and green peas, a cup of tea and a huge buttered bread roll, which in Leeds, I've been informed, is called a breadcake. Apparently this is how they do fish and chips at Oseman. I roll out of the canteen and return to the office, when Sahar accosts me. 

“Charlie!” she cries. “Drinks tonight! Are you coming?”

“Oh, right.” I’d heard that Friday Drinks were a thing at Oseman, but I don’t want to spend on alcohol right now. “The thing is, I’m off booze. Um, health reasons.”

“Oh that’s cool, I don’t drink alcohol either,” she says, her long hair swishing. “We go to a place just around the corner. They have plenty of nice soft drinks and zero beers, and if that’s not your thing, they don’t charge for soda water.” She shrugs. “Don’t you hate it when bars charge you the same as Coke for just fizzy water?”

“I do,” I agree. “Okay, I’ll come for one or two, but I need an early night. I have a whole day of flat-hunting tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll take it out of you!” she replies. “Are you staying in the city centre, or heading out to the ‘burbs?”

“The ‘burbs,” I tell her. “I need some green space and quiet.”

“Didn’t you move here from London?”

“Not central London,” I tell her. “I lived in Kew, near Kew Gardens. It was very leafy.”

“Whereabouts are you looking tomorrow?”

“Headingley, Meanwood, Chapel Allerton and Moortown,” I say. “Do you mind me asking where you live?”

“Joshi and I live between Meanwood and Moortown,” she tells me. 

“Joshi?” I ask. “Your partner?”

“No!” she laughs. “My Great Dane.” She shows me her lock screen which is a photo of a huge brown dog with a black muzzle. It’s as big as she is. “The love of my life.”

“He’s gorgeous. I’d love a dog or cat one day, but just haven’t managed it,” I say. “Does he mind you being out of the house for work?”

“No, he’s very chilled,” she says. “Besides, I work from home two days a week. He goes to doggy daycare the rest of the week and they can keep him until seven if I need.”

“Which lets you go out for Friday drinks after work now and then,” I realise.

“Exactly!”

--

I find myself enjoying drinks after work. It’s all really low-key. Nobody cares that I’m not drinking, or that I stick to the free soda water. Some people grab pizza slices or burgers with their drinks, some plan on staying out all night, and some have a quick drink and then go home. 

Just as I’m finishing my second drink and preparing to head back to the flat, a warm hand lands on my shoulder. 

“Charlie Spring!” It’s Darcy Jones grinning down at me. “How was your first week?” 

They slide onto the end of the bench and high-five James, Sahar and a couple of others. 

“Very good, thanks,” I reply. “Thanks for your help in getting started.”

“Oh, you are so welcome,” she says, taking a big gulp of her IPA. “And have you been finding your way around and about?”

“Around the centre, yeah, but I’m heading out tomorrow, flat-hunting.”

“He’s checking out our neck of the woods, Darce,” says Sahar, sipping a ginger and lemon kombucha. “And Headingley too.”

“I live in Headingley and it’s great, loads of cafes and bars and shops, but it gets noisy with the students and the stadium,” James says. “No matter what the agents tell you.”

“Stadium?”

“Rugby League and cricket,” says Darcy. “Guessing you’re not a sports fan.”

“Not really, although I like rugby players…” I say, before pausing. Was that too much information? “Um—”

“God, me too,” James replies. “All that tackling and mud and thick thighs.” He wriggles in his seat. “Mm-hm.”

“I prefer dancers myself,” Darcy chips in, smiling softly. “My Tara specifically.”

“Well, she is gorgeous,” Sahar agrees. “You are one lucky lady.”

“I know.” She turns to me. “So, you’re thinking of North Leeds then?”

“I did my research and it seems to fit what I want,” I reply. “Do you and Sahar live near each other?”

“Yeah, not too far. I’m in Moortown,” Darcy says. “It’s quieter, but it’s got lots of green and leafy spots, and is still quite well-connected.”

“Meanwood is great too,” adds Sahar. “There’s a huge park and a nice mix of shops and cafes. But it’s popular, as is Chapel Allerton, so the flats move very quickly.”

“Thanks for the rundown,” I say. It’s super helpful to have some insight from the locals. I down the last dregs of my soda water, and go to stand up. “I’d better get going. My first viewing is at 8.30am.”

“See you Monday!”

“Have a good weekend.”

“Happy flat-hunting!”

--

It turns out that everything I was told about Headingley is true. Loads of great shops, cafes, restaurants and bars… and about a thousand hungover, rowdy students, returning from clubs, doing the walk of shame or bumbling around bleary-eyed in their pyjamas. Pyjamas . In public! I see two flats there, and both would be fine, but I know I can’t live here. 

I stop for a quick coffee at a gorgeous arty café, ordering espresso as it’s the cheapest thing on the menu, and check my phone. To my surprise, there’s a comment on the Instagram post I shared last night. 

@accountantneedstosave: I have ditched alcohol until I’m back on an even keel. It turns out that plenty of places serve soda water on draught for free, and if you want, you can pretend you’re drinking a G&T! So don’t go to places where the f***ers charge you for it! 

@nicknzzzzz: This is such a good idea but not one I’d ever thought about. The last time I went out-out, I spent £30 on drinks, £25 on Uber and £10 on a hangover McDonalds! Do you miss booze though?

I comment back. 

@accountantneedstosave: Much less than I thought I would tbh. I sometimes find myself wanting a pint or glass of wine, but it seems to pass quite quickly. I’d quite happily drink alcohol if someone else was buying though!

The reply comes back within a minute. 

@nicknzzzzz: Haha, me too! 

I glance at the time on my phone and realise I need to get going to make it to my next viewings in Meanwood, a twenty-minute walk away. And it’s a gorgeous walk. Tree-lined streets that give way to rows of neat terraces. There’s a big Waitrose nearby for treats, but also an Aldi for the regular food shop, and the park is peaceful, with a little stream running through. I love it. 

“Just to let you know,” the agent says as he opens the door to the first flat, “there’s already offers on this flat and the next, so if you want to apply, you’ll have to pay more than the listed rent.”

“How much more?” I ask, unwilling to set foot inside the property until I know. I don’t want to really like a place, then realise I can’t afford it.

“Ten to twenty percent.”

“That takes both flats out of my price range,” I murmur. 

“I mean, you could take your chances, but Meanwood’s the ‘it’ suburb at the moment and—" "

I shake my head. 

“Have you got any other properties that you could show me?”

“None in your price range, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks for your time.”

Chapel Allerton is like Meanwood, with another Aldi, cute shops, cafes and restaurants, but I run into the same problem. Three lovely-looking flats, already oversubscribed. Disheartened, I head north, up a big hill, into Moortown. 

The houses start to get bigger and there’s more space than the other places. As I’m early, I divert from the main road, and walk through lovely winding streets full of trees, the houses set back from the road. The best thing of all is that I can barely hear anything but the odd bird chirping. 

Suddenly, sandwiched between two large white detached houses, I spot the prettiest cottage. 

It has a low, duck egg blue picket fence, a little front lawn with an apple tree that has a duck egg blue wraparound bench. The cottage itself is made of Yorkshire stone, and has matching duck egg blue sash windows and a door. 

“Wow,” I mumble. 

“Isn’t it darling?” a voice says from behind me. I turn to see a kind-looking Indian lady in her late forties, carrying an empty shopping bag. “I wish all the houses around here looked like that.”

“It seems out of place in between all these bigger houses,” I muse out loud.

“Apparently,” the woman responds, “in the 1930s, most of the landowners were persuaded to sell their cottages and land to some businessman. The original cottages remain on the plots that weren’t sold.”

“Whoever lives there is so lucky,” I sigh. “Thanks for telling me about it.”

“You are very welcome,” she says. “Are you new to the neighbourhood?”

“Hoping to be,” I reply. “I’m here flat-hunting. My next appointment is in twenty minutes.”

“Where are you looking?”

“Uh, Allerton Hill, Shadwell Lane and Sandy Hill Lane?” I tell her. “Are those nice roads?”

“Very.” She grins at me. “All good choices, close to the Corner.”

“The Corner?”

“Moortown Corner, where all the shops are, including a Marks and Spencer food hall, the doctors’ surgery, bank and dentist. Oh and a vet, if you have a pet.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m actually heading that way myself,” the lady says. “You’re welcome to walk with me if you want. But I won’t be offended if you’d rather not walk with an old lady.”

“You’re not old!”

“Older than you, you wee whippersnapper!” Haha, this lady’s a riot. “What’s your name?”

“Charlie. And you?”

“I’m Priya.”

**** 

Nick

By Saturday morning, I’m predictably exhausted. Still, after a lie-in and an Instagram scroll, I make it to the gym and do a mixed weights and cardio session. Then I take a long shower and go to Aldi. I’m trying out tips from a couple of the Instagram pages I now follow. I’ve got a notepad with my meal planning for next week, and a shopping list, as well as a list of what food is in my kitchen.

I come out of Aldi having spent two thirds of what I spent the previous week, and there’s no boring cheese and potato pie in sight. I head home, unpack the groceries and treat myself to a brunch of bacon, spinach and mushroom crepes with fruit salad. Of course, I watch Value For Money as I eat. I’ve got to fuel my Freddie dreams after all!

When the film is finished, I decide to head out for my charity shop trip. As Immy Cheap Thrills suggests, I just take a £5 note, my phone (with Apple Pay disabled) and my keys. The shops are ten minutes away, and it’s a beautiful, sunny Saturday so I enjoy the walk over.

The first couple of shops are full of old ladies and smell overwhelmingly of lavender, so I leave without looking at anything. The next shop is quieter, and mainly has books, DVDs, CDs and toys. I spend quite a while looking at the books, but nothing really captures my attention. The next shop has a bunch of old rugby almanacs, and it's fun looking through them, but they’d just clutter up the house if I bought them. I hate clutter.

The last charity shop in the row is the one directly opposite Marks and Spencer, so at least if it’s a bust, I can pop over and get a treat. I walk in, and see a bunch of sporty t-shirts, and some cool Marvel ones, but none of them are large enough to fit me. Rugby gave me a certain chunkiness. And so did carbs.

I’m about to give up on the whole charity shop endeavour when I spot a thing of beauty on a shelf.

It’s a retro set of two Super Mario Bros mugs from the 1990s, boxed, in pristine condition. I take three steps over to the shelf, but just as I’m putting my hand on the box to check the price, someone else does the same thing.

“Oh, um sorry,” the guy says, but doesn’t take his hand off the box.

I turn towards him and freeze, my throat clenching.

The man next to me is fine. So fucking fine. He’s got thick, dark curly hair, bright blue eyes, an angular jaw and a hint of dimpling on his cheeks. My knees actually go a little weak. He’s slender but not skinny, and he’s wearing the most adorable dark green woolly jumper with a shirt underneath it, a fleece lined denim jacket and black trousers.

Basically he’s Freddie, but hotter.

So fucking hot.

“So, you’re a Super Mario Brothers fan too, huh?” I say, unable to stop myself from smiling as my eyes sweep over his delicious, lithe athletic figure. I want to wrap my big hands around that slim waist and taste his neck and… Oh shit, he’s talking to me!

“Uh, yeah. My sister and I played Nintendo constantly when we were kids. Super Mario Bros and Mario Kart. We used to have mugs like these, but they got broken or lost or something.”

“I was the same, although my brother and I never played nicely. If I so much as dared to beat him, he’d punch me.” I take a deep breath. I don’t know why I’m bringing Dickhead David up now. “We also used to have Mario mugs, but…” I don’t finish the sentence. David reached full Dickhead mode the day he deliberately smashed them.

“You should have these,” the stunning Freddie-like creature says. “I shouldn’t be buying stuff I don’t need anyway.” 

I look at the price. The pair of mugs are exactly £5.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “That’s really kind of you… you’re uh… really kind.”

“You’re very welcome,” he murmurs back, letting go of the box and shoving his hands in his pockets.

I turn to the mugs and pick them up in one hand.

“What’s your name—” I begin when I turn back to face the hottie. But he’s disappeared. How did he do that?

Damn it.

I pay for the mugs with the fiver and decide to return home, moping about my failure to speak to the beautiful guy and get his number. I’m about to turn off the main road when I spot him, waiting at a bus stop. However, just as I start to walk towards him, the Number 2 turns up and whisks him away.

Maybe that’s the universe telling me it’s not meant to be. After all, a man that beautiful wouldn’t want a chonk like me.

--

I’m craving cookies when I get home, good ones. That comfort food thing kicking in again. Luckily I have enough ingredients in the cupboards to make one batch of chocolate chip cookie dough. I bake myself four cookies and then freeze the rest of the dough.

I make my tea in one of the new mugs but impulsively, I make a second cup in the other mug, and put it on the kitchen table opposite me. Then I plate up the cookies and enjoy them with the tea, wondering what it would be like to have tea with the gorgeous, kind Freddie-like stranger who let me have the set.

I realise I’m dipping into weirdo territory, making a cup of tea for a fictionalised version of a man I met for precisely one minute in a Moortown charity shop. But if I didn’t have my imagination, I’d be even more fucking lonely than I am already. So I give into it, having a full-on pretend conversation with Mr Kind Hottie.

I imagine he’s very clever, doing something technical or academic. He doesn’t seem particularly sporty although he has a runner’s physique. I could see him running a marathon, and I imagine what he’d look like all sweaty, with damp curls at his neck… hmmm. That line of thought definitely makes me hot under the collar. He’s also so elegant that he could be a musician or an artist. He obviously likes Super Mario and Mario Kart; I think his favourite character would be Yoshi.

I lose an hour to my imaginary conversation before prepping dinner. I make an Instagram recipe, chilli loaded potato wedges with a sweetcorn salad, and it’s delicious. I divide the leftover chilli into portions and put them into the freezer, so I can have them for dinner in the week. Then I chop the cold leftover potatoes and mix them with the sweetcorn salad, tuna, tomatoes and vinaigrette for Monday’s lunchbox.

I feel a little pop of satisfaction when I clean down the kitchen and make another cuppa in one of the Mario mugs. I really enjoyed cooking healthy meals before the divorce and my money troubles, and today, I found some of that enjoyment again.

I’m about to sit on the sofa with my tea when my phone rings. It’s my colleague Priya, who lives in the next street over.

“Hi Priya, what’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, but I don’t suppose you’ve seen Indira, have you? She’s not come home for her tea.”

Priya’s white Persian cat Indira Gandhi likes to prowl around the local gardens, but she's quite old now, so often gets stuck or lost.

“No, but I’ll go check the gardens,” I reply. “Maybe she’s stuck under the car or in the shed again.”

“Cheers, Nick,” Priya says. “How are you?”

Her tone is sympathetic; she was very supportive when Annie left, supervising my classes when I needed to sort out divorce and finance things. She also made me a boatload of samosas; I must get her to show me how to make them.

“Pretty good, thanks,” I tell her. “Feeling a bit less stressed.”

“Oh, that’s good. Come round for a drink sometime.”

“Tomorrow evening?” I suggest. “Or tonight if I find Indira.”

“Perfect!” She sighs down the phone. “I’d better keep ringing around. See you soon!”

She rings off, and I put my sliders on to go look for the cat. I don’t have to look far. Indira Gandhi is in my apple tree, trying to get to a birds’ nest.

“Oh God, Indy,” I mutter. “Are you going to be able to get down?”

Indira looks over at me and puts her paw down on the branch. For a moment she just stares at me as if contemplating my question, and then starts to meow loudly. I pull out my phone and call Priya.

“I’ve found her in my tree,” I say. “Can you come over and hold the ladder?”

--

Priya and her wife Jenny thank me for rescuing Indira Gandhi by inviting me over to have dessert and wine with them. Soon, I’m comfy in an armchair in their living room, sipping a glass of crisp, cold Sauvignon Blanc and making short work of a massive piece of mango cheesecake.

“I must say, Nick,” says Jenny, curling up on the sofa next to Priya, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, “you seem more upbeat tonight. Are things better?”

“I feel like I’ve turned a bit of a corner,” I tell them. “I don’t know… this week, it’s like some negative energy has shifted or something. Tara suggested I try some practical tips from Instagram and they’ve helped.”

“I’m so pleased for you,” Priya gushes as she strokes a purring, sleepy Indira on her lap. “You deserve a break after all the crap you’ve been through.”

“Have you heard from Annie?” Jenny asks gently.

I shake my head. “I think she’s still in Miami, but I stopped following her on Instagram and I’ve asked her family not to tell me anything. We all need to move on.”

“I hope Annie finds whatever it is she’s looking for,” Priya says flatly. “That giving you up was worth it.”

“You know, I don’t miss her at all,” I realise. “I was bitter about losing our secure, comfortable life for a long time, but now, I feel like everything’s going to work out.”

“Do you think you might be ready to start dating again?” Jenny says, sipping her wine.

“If you’d asked me that last week, I’d have said no, absolutely not…” I murmur, as the image of Kind Charity Shop Hottie comes into my mind. “But now it’s a ‘I’ll think about it.’”

“Yes!” Priya says, clapping her hands together. Indira meows at the sound then goes back to sleep. “I met someone perfect for—”

“Nope,” I cut in. “I’m not ready to be set up yet.”

“But—”

Jenny steps in this time, pressing a kiss to Priya’s temple. “Nick will tell us when he’s ready, babe.”

-cXc-

 

Notes:

A rundown on British supermarkets!
Cheapest: Aldi, Lidl
Consistently decent value: Asda, Morrisons
Sometimes cheap, sometimes expensive: Tesco, Sainsburys
Treats only/You're rich!: Marks and Spencer, Waitrose

British folx, feel free to agree or disagree with me on this one!

Chapter 3: Chapter Three

Summary:

Charlie moves into his new flat. Darcy introduces him to a new money-saving app. Nick spends time with his besties, and gets a welcome dinner invitation.

Notes:

Thank you for all the love on this story so far! While it's overlapping with Butterfly Club, I'll post on the same days, but then it might be a bit hit and miss while I'm away.

A huge thank you to HanKitchman for the beta read!

Chapter Three

Charlie

A few weeks pass since my flat-hunting weekend, a few peaceful weeks.

I manage to secure a lovely flat, near to Moortown Corner and a short walk from Moortown Park. I settle further into the team at Oseman, having lunch and coffee with them, not to mention Friday Drinks; Sahar, James and Darcy are fast becoming good friends.

Strangely, I also keep in touch with Priya, the lady I met when I was wandering through Moortown. She insisted we swap numbers so she can help me settle into the neighbourhood. I've since learned that she is a PE teacher at a local school, lives with her wife Jenny who’s a tennis coach, and has a temperamental cat called Indira Gandhi who likes to visit the neighbours. She’s been really helpful in giving me tips about the area; I never met any of my neighbours in London so to be shown such support is kind of alien to me.

“Charlie!” Darcy is especially gregarious at tonight’s Friday Drinks. It might have something to do with the nearly empty pint glass in front of her. “You’re finally here!”

“Sorry, I’m late,” I say, sitting next to James. “Had to go pick up the keys to my new flat.”

“Amazing,” says Sahar. “When are you moving?”

“Tomorrow,” I say. “I’ve booked a rental car to move my stuff over.”

“Oh, I’d have let you borrow my car if I’d known,” Sahar says. “I’m visiting my family in York now, but next time you need a hand, just ask, okay?”

I can tell she means that, which makes me feel all warm and happy inside.

“Do you have much stuff?” asks James. “How many trips will you need?”

“I’m hoping I can do it in just one.” I take a sip of my soda water. The bartender knows my order now and automatically gave me a tumbler with ice, a slice of lime and a straw. “I got rid of loads of stuff when I moved here.”

“Clothes, books, kitchen stuff and bathroom stuff… that’s all you really need, right?” says Darcy, draining her pint.

“Yeah, I’ve learned to live with less,” I agree. “Although I am missing my drum kit.”

“You play the drums?” James and Sahar say in unison.

“I knew that.” Darcy smirks. “It was on your CV.”

I chuckle in response.

“I’ve played since I was nine,” I tell them. “My sister has my kit in her storage unit. She’s going to bring my drum kit when she visits. I’ve got a spare bedroom which is going to be where I play.”

“Are you any good?” asks Sahar. “I play guitar and my little garage band is always looking for people to join us.”

“I’m okay,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat up. “But I’m not very confident about playing in public.”

“That’s cool,” she says. “Perhaps we could just do a little jam session sometime. Hey, you could meet Joshi!”

“I’d love that,” I agree, and Sahar gives my hand a little squeeze.

The bar is emptier than usual which surprises me as it’s payday weekend. James sees me looking around and anticipates my question.

“There’s a roof terrace,” he says. “Whenever the weather’s nice it gets jammed.”

“If we were staying for a while we’d probably fight our way up there,” Darcy explains, “but it’s not worth it for one drink.”

“What are you up to this weekend, Darce?” James asks.

“Just chilling,” they reply. “We’ll probably also go Green Gophering. It’s a new thing we’ve been doing the past month or two.”

“’Green Gophering?” I say. “What’s that?”

“Tara’s big on saving the planet and reducing waste,” Darcy replies. “So before we do our food shop for the week on Sundays, we check the Green Gopher app for any bargains on close-to-date and recently expired food.”

“Food labels are such a con, man,” says Sahar. “I’ve had some great stuff from Green Gopher which looked and smelled absolutely fine, and I’m not dead yet!”

“I’m okay with bread, pastries, and well-cooked things, but salads and sushi, not so much,” adds James. “Pizza Express is my favourite. Last time, I got three portions of doughballs, two portions of chicken wings and a tiramisu for £4.”

“Okay, it sounds like I need Green Gopher in my life!” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Could you show me?”

--

By Saturday afternoon, I’ve moved all my stuff to my new flat, used the hire car to do a massive shop at Aldi (with a shopping list and meal plan in hand, of course), cleaned the short-term flat, and returned the car to the rental place. I get the bus back to my new home, flop down onto the sofa and sigh.

“Home.”

I’m about to pull out the kettle and make a cup of tea when my phone buzzes.

<GREEN GOPHER>

Stores near you have food that needs saving. Click here to check out what’s on offer!

I open the app, and see that there are three shops near me with food to save. The first is a local fish and chip shop, but I had fish and chips yesterday at work, and the idea of lukewarm, slightly soggy battered fish turns my stomach. The second is a local deli giving away cheeses, cold meats and cake. However, they sell out just as I click on their page. Lastly is a bakery that specialises in American bakes like brownies, cookies and cinnamon buns. And it’s just off the Corner.

<<Bonnie’s Bakes>>

Mixed box of treats- at least five items: £5 (retail price £20)

Collection time: 16:00-16:45

Two available

The thing is, I have a massive sweet tooth. Chocolate brownies are my fave, closely followed by chocolate chip cookies. This place sounds amazing, Not £20 amazing, but after moving house, I think I can justify splashing out £5 on some goodies. I quickly buy a box and pay for it on the app. It’s nearly 4pm now so I put my shoes back on, grab my keys and a carrier bag and head over to Bonnie’s Bakes.

As I approach the little shop, I see a tall, stocky figure approaching it from the other side. My heart booms in my chest as I realise it’s Hot Mario Mug Man. I met him in a charity shop a couple of weeks ago. 

God, what a fittie. 

He’s built like a brick shithouse, but also has a softness to him, like he’s a human version of one of those Squishmallow things. He has the sweetest, kindest face, with dark brown eyes and constellations of freckles all over his face, neck and arms. He has beautiful, floppy auburn hair, the colour of a shiny penny.

Swoon. Big, big swoon. He’s like Langston, but cuddlier, and with better hair.

If I hadn’t already been convinced that Moortown was my kind of place, Hot Charity Shop Man swung it for me. I haven't had an immediate crush like that in years. Just his face alone made me all flustered. I shared about me and Tori playing Mario Kart for God's sake! I was so starstruck that I let him have the limited edition 1992 retro Super Mario Bros mug set we both liked. And then had fantasies of drinking tea from one of those mugs in his bed, with him next to me… naked.

The sight of him again distracts me so much that I almost get knocked over trying to cross the road. The sound of cars beeping at me makes the hottie turn, and when our eyes meet, he smiles broadly, then waves. Oh my God, he remembers me.

The thing is, he’s probably married to a sweet woman called something like Lucy or Lizzie with a kid or two, and a dog. It’s not possible that someone that hot and that sweet wasn’t snapped up at school or uni.

“Hi there,” Mario Hottie says as I approach. “How’s it going?”

“Great thanks.” I try to keep my voice smooth. “How are Mario and Luigi?”

He laughs, and it’s the cutest half-chuckle, half-giggle.

“They are awesome,” he says. “Pride of place in my kitchen.”

“I hope you’re actually using them rather than keeping them on a shelf,” I reply. “They need to fulfil their destiny.”

“Oh, they’ve fulfilled it,” he says. “I drink four mugs of tea a day, minimum.”

“Then they haven’t fulfilled their destiny!” I joke. “They’re Italian-American! They drink ‘caw-fee’.” Oh for fucks sake, who is this man that has me rambling and doing terrible New Yorker impressions?

“Bleurgh.” He visibly shudders. “Nope. No. I just can’t. Even with syrups and shit-tons of milk and whipped cream.”

“Oh, no,” I chuckle. “And here I was thinking that we could be friends…!”

He laughs louder.

“Hey, it’s your loss. I am an excellent friend.”

“Are you?”

“I’m a great cook, good at DIY and moving furniture, and I’ll always give you a lift to the airport or station,” he tells me seriously. Well, mostly.

“Damn, is that on your Hinge profile? Because you’d score big time!”

“I don’t have a Hinge profile…” he murmurs, looking at me intently before sweeping his eyes over my body. A hot shiver ripples through me. And then he licks his lips. Fuck. “I’ve never internet-dated before, actually.”

“I’m sure a gorgeous guy like you could have anyone you wanted, anywhere. Virtual or IRL.”

He smiles and looks away, the most delicious blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God, I want to stroke it. I want to stroke him. Bloody hell, I need to stop that line of thinking right now. We’re in public!

“Are you picking up a Green Gopher?” he asks softly. He looks pointedly at my phone in my hand, which has just lit up with a notification. He glances at the bakery; we’re standing in front of it. “Bonnie’s?”

“Yes—”

Suddenly a small African-American grandma, wearing a floor-length Stars and Stripes apron, opens the bakery door.

“I hate to interrupt your, like, obvious flirting, but unless you’re here for Green Gopher, there’s nothing left in the store,” she says in a soft American accent.

“We’re Green Gophering,” says the big strong mountain of cute hotness. He opens the app on his phone. “Here’s my code.”

“And here’s mine,” I say.

She gives us each a big paper bag decorated in navy blue stars with red and white striped handles. The box inside is massive.

“Thanks guys,” Bonnie says. “Now, go flirt somewhere else, kids. I wanna go home.”

We both laugh.

“Which way are you heading?” I ask, walking a few steps away from Bonnie’s door.

“I’m going to my friends’ house, so that way.” He points away from Moortown Corner. “You?”

“That way,” I reply, pointing in the other direction. I swallow hard before asking the question I really need to have answered. “So, uh, were you intending to flirt with me just now? Or has Bonnie read the situation wrong?”

“Bonnie’s not wrong,” he murmurs, suddenly looking all shy, and damn if my heart doesn’t melt into a puddle. “I’m quite out of practice though.” He shifts from foot to foot before looking at me, staring into my eyes. “You?”

“Oh, I was trying to flirt. One hundred percent.”

“Oh.” His shy smile breaks into a big grin and it takes everything not to let my knees buckle. “So… could I get your number?”

“Only if I can get yours, with your name,” I tell him. “I don’t want to keep calling you HMMM or variations thereof.”

“HMMM?”

“Hot Mario Mug Man.”

He guffaws loudly, almost doubling over as he laughs.

“I’ve been calling you Gorgeous Kind Hottie in my head so I guess we’re even,” he tells me.

“You think I’m hot?”

I’m shocked. He thinks I’m hot? I’ve always been the gay, nerdy one.

“So fucking hot,” he says intensely, those dark eyes fixed on me. Oh God. I’m in trouble here. “Excuse my language.”

“You still haven’t told me your name…” I breathe, my throat going dry as I try to stop all my blood rushing south.

“Nick. My name’s Nick,” he says. “And yours?”

“Charlie.”

He smiles widely.

“Charlie…” My name has never sounded better coming from his wide, full mouth. “Before we swap numbers, Charlie,” he says, “there is something I should tell you. Hopefully it doesn’t bother you.”

“God, please tell me you’re not married to a girl called Lucy and have a brood of kids and a dog and a SUV with a roofbox?”

“No! God no!” he exclaims, pressing his free hand to his chest.

“Sorry, I get a bit anxious sometimes.”

His face softens and he steps a little closer.

“Me too,” he murmurs. “I’m divorced, no kids… and I’m bi.”

“Oh.” That’s what he’s worried about. “So…?”

“So… It bothers some guys,” he says softly. “I’ve had a few attempts at dating since my ex-wife left but…”

He looks so sad and dejected, and I just want to wrap myself around him.

“Then they’re idiots,” I tell him. “I don’t care.”

“No?” he whispers. “And uh, would you care if I told you that I’ve never been with a guy before?”

He steps a fraction closer and I just want him to pull me against him. He smells fresh, like a forest after a rainstorm. My mouth starts to water.

“No,” I promise. “Nick?”

“Yeah?” He’s close enough that his breath wafts over my face. No smell, just light, warm air.

“Please swap numbers with me so we can continue this thing later.”

“Anything you want, Charlie.”

He gazes into my eyes for a moment longer before holding out his phone. I type my number into his phone. He gives me a missed call. I save the number there and then.

Nick (Hot Mario Mug Man)

“Well, see you around, Kind Hottie Charlie.”

“See you around, Hot Mario Mug Man Nick.”

He leans into me all of a sudden and brushes my cheek with a kiss, which sets sparks dancing across my skin. And then he’s off, walking away, and I think he might have taken a tiny piece of my heart with him. 

**** 

Nick

“Well, hello Nicholas!” Tara says as she opens the door of her cute 1940s semi-detached house, where she lives with her wife Darcy and their jungle of plants. Then she steps back slightly and narrows her eyes. “Why do you look like the cat who got the cream?”

“I did well on Green Gopher today.” I hold up the bag from Bonnie’s.

“No, that’s not it,” she replies, letting me in. “You’re bloody glowing, babe.”

Nothing gets past Tara. And I can’t stop smiling. I met Kind Hottie again and he is even more amazing than my imagination made him. Even his name is gorgeous. Charlie.

“I… I might have met someone interesting,” I mumble through my grin. “But don’t ask me any questions!” I add hastily. “It’s very, very new and I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Don’t want to jinx what?” Darcy asks, coming through from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a teatowel. “Ooh, you got one of Bonnie's bags! I saw it a minute too late.”

I don’t tell Darcy how grateful I am that she missed out.

“He’s met someone,” Tara says with a pout. “But he won’t tell me anything!”

“You have?” Darcy grabs my arm. “O.M.Wow! I am so happy for you.”

“Aww, thanks Darce,” I say, kissing her cheek. “Still not giving away any details.”

“Hey!” They let go of me and then punch my bicep.

“Oww!” I rub my arm. “Violence isn’t going to get you the goss either, you know.”

“Fine,” she replies with a shrug. “Come into the kitchen. Let’s see what you got in your haul.”

“We did pretty well too,” adds Tara.

“Where did you go?” I ask, looking at the plain brown paper bags on their kitchen table.

“I went to Sourdough City,” says Darcy, opening one of the bags and pulling out a massive loaf. “This monster, four sourdough crumpets and two seeded baguettes.”

“That’s quite the haul.” I inhale deeply, and my mouth waters at the smell of delicious bread. “How much did the bag cost?”

“A fiver.” She lays all the bread on top of the paper bag and then snaps a photo. “Excuse me a sec, gotta take a pic for my colleague. He’s never Gophered before.”

“No problem.” I turn to Tara. “Where did you go, Tara?”

“Veggie-Mart.” She grins and opens the other paper bags. “One bag of loose fruit and one of mixed veggies.”

“Sweet!” There’s absolutely loads.

“And it was only £2.50.” She grins. “Your turn, babe.”

I pull out the box from Bonnie’s, and we’re instantly hit by the smell of chocolate and cinnamon.

“Fuck, it’s bursting at the seams,” Darcy says. “Open it! Open it!”

I pop the tape and lift the lid. Inside are a plethora of goodies. Four enormous chocolate brownies, six huge choc chip cookies the size of my face, and four massive cinnamon buns, two plain, one topped with Biscoff, another with Oreos and chocolate icing.

“The Oreo one is mine!” I claim before Darcy can get their mitts on it.

“Noooo,” she wails before giving me puppy dog eyes. “It looks so good.”

“I knnowww…” I grin at her while I pull my phone out of my pocket to take a pic. “Finder’s perk.”

I take two pics of the sweets, a photo of Darcy’s haul and the array of fruit and vegetables Tara brought.

“This is awesome,” I tell them. “Thanks for telling me about Green Gopher.”

“You could reward us with the Oreo bun,” Tara points out, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

Damn it. That’s fair. I suppose.

“Split it three ways?”

“That’s a good suggestion.” Darcy snatches it from the box and grabs a knife. “I’m splitting it now before you change your mind.”

“Make the tea while you’re at it, love?” Tara asks.

“Got it!”

“What are we going to do with all of this?” I ask. “It’s a serious amount of food.”

Darcy turns back, the Oreo cinnamon bun in one hand and a knife in the other. She studies the table’s contents for a moment.

“Bruschetta with the sourdough and tomatoes.”

“Pear and toasted walnut salad with some goat’s cheese,” Tara adds.

“Veggie risotto with some prawns from the freezer,” Darcy continues, “and we can turn the baguettes into garlic bread.”

“And then we have the brownies and bits for dessert,” I say. “Good plan.”

“It’s still a lot of food, my love,” Tara points out. “It’s a shame Sahar’s at her parents’ place.”

“I know!” Darcy cries, almost dropping her knife. “I could invite my colleague. He’s just moved into the area and he’s such a dot.” She looks over at me. “You’d love him. He’s so VFM.”

“’VFM?’ Value for money?”

I immediately think of the movie, which makes me think of Freddie, who morphs into gorgeous Charlie. Talk about VFM. I already know he’s it.

“Yep.. He’s the whole package. Seriously, if I wasn’t an absolute lesbian, I’d be interested.”

“Hey!” Tara cries. “You are a happily married person!”

“Who has eyes, my beloved,” Darcy retorts. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet him.” Darcy puts the cut Oreo bun on the table and I grab my piece. “He’s cute as a button, frighteningly clever, athletic, and he plays the drums.”

“The drums?”

I almost drop the piece of cinnamon bun. I love drummers. The way they move, the way they keep the beat. The way their hands grip the sticks.

“The drums,” Darcy repeats with a smirk.

“But I’ve just met someone amazing,” I murmur.

“So?” says Tara. “You are allowed to meet another amazing person.”

“Let me text him.” Darcy pulls out their phone and taps into it furiously. Whoever this ‘VFM’ guy is, he texts just as fast as Darce, because a second later, she gets a text back. “Ahh, he’s already done for the day. Next time.”

--

Cooking and having dinner with my besties is the best way to end the weekend. I leave Tara and Darcy feeling nourished, body and soul. And I have wicked-good leftovers!

“Someone’s chirpy this morning!” says Priya as I bounce into the staff room the next morning. “Good weekend?”

“So good,” I gush, before pulling out a Tupperware box from my bag. “Here. It’s a brownie from Bonnie’s.”

Priya’s eyes light up and she puts down her giant mug of coffee to take it.

“Wow, Nick! Thanks!” But then her face scrunches up and she drops her voice. “Nick, love, you don’t need to waste your money on me. I appreciate the treat but it’s not necessary, you know?”

“I know,” I tell her, “and I promise you I didn’t spend as much as you think. I got a Green Gopher from Bonnie’s. A massive box of treats for £5, more than me, Tara and Darcy could eat.”

“Oh.” Priya looks mollified. “Well, then, thanks a lot. I’m going to take it home to share with Jenny.” She pops the box into her pocket. “I’ve heard good things about Green Gopher. How are you finding it?”

The day flies by and I actually enjoy teaching my classes, hanging out in the staff room and running the after-school Pride Rugby club. Then I go to the gym and have a good session. I’m starting to enjoy it more each time. By the time I get home, I’m a happy kind of exhausted. I hop in the shower and head into the kitchen to make dinner, when my phone lights up with a text.

Charlie (Kind Hottie)

C: Hey Nick, how’s your day been? Just wondering if you feel like meeting for a walk in the park or a coffee or something this week?

N: I’m good thanks! And I would love to. My work-week is very busy though. Are you free Saturday morning? We could go for a walk to Roundhay Park and back?

C: Great idea. Where should we meet? Moortown Corner?

N: Yep. I’ll meet you outside the ice cream parlour. 10am?

C: Perfect. Can’t wait xxx

N: Have a good evening xxx

I can’t wipe the smile off my face as I make a quick dinner of chicken stir-fry and rice, and eat it while watching Value For Money . Strangely, even though Charlie’s way hotter than Freddie, watching the movie still gives me comfort. In fact, I think I like it more since I first saw Charlie. And as Langston and Freddie are tenderly taking off each other’s clothes, I can’t help but imagine doing that with Charlie.

I close my eyes. It’s been so bloody long since I was touched that way, with love and wonder. Annie stopped being interested in me long before she actually left. Maybe she never was really. I was her safe choice. Mr Steady who would treat her kindly and never be the one to leave.

Now, even though I’ve only met him twice, Charlie’s on my mind. I think about holding him close to me so our chests are pressed together, and placing my lips against his neck, over his pulse point, feeling his heart beating with my mouth. I remembered the way he smelled faintly of mint and citrus when we were outside Bonnie’s, a scent I wanted to engulf me.

I’ve never actually been with a man. I realised that I was bisexual in my first term at university, when I was drawn to one of my flatmates in halls. I could not stop thinking about him, always wanted to hang out with him and then, when he hooked up with a girl at a party, I was absolutely devastated.

I didn’t have any queer friends then though, and the president of the LGBTQ+ society was the biggest douche-canoe on campus, so I stayed closeted until after I qualified as a teacher. It was only then that I even ventured into a gay bar. I met this lovely looking dark-haired guy, and we danced, grinding together on the dance floor. It was so exciting… until he spotted the bisexual flag pinned on the collar of my shirt. ‘You’re not a real queer,” he hissed as he pushed me away, his face curled into a vicious sneer.

By the time I met Annie, who was a PE teacher at the same school, I had been bi-jected so many times, by women and by men. Annie and I were friends and colleagues for a year before I got drunk at the Christmas party and told her she was pretty. She didn’t say anything initially, but in the new year, she made a play for me, hard. Within six months we were living together, and got married a year after that.

Suddenly my phone rings. It’s Priya.

“Hey, Priya. Did Indira get out again?”

“Oh, no,” Priya replies, her voice light. “She’s fine. She’s on the sofa with Jen, having her back scratched with the weird plastic hand thing you got her for ‘Catmas.’”

We both chuckle.

“So what’s up? Why do I have the pleasure of a phone call from you on a Monday evening when I’ll see you in school tomorrow?”

“But it’s Twisted Tuesday!” Priya reminds me. “7am U18 footie practice, 8am U14 footie practice, 9 til 12 GCSE PE, 1 to 2, Year 9 PE, 2 to 3, Year 8 PE…”

“Okay, yes, get the picture!” I laugh. “That schedule’s brutal.”

“Anyways,” Priya continues, “what are you doing Thursday evening?”

I don’t tell her exactly what I’d be doing. Dinner, watch Value For Money, have a wank imagining Charlie instead of Freddie in the sex scenes, shower and bed.

“Err, nothing really. Dinner, TV etc. Why?”

“Want to come round for dinner? Jen’s decided to randomly throw a dinner party. Nothing fancy. Just a few people, some nice food, and then we’ll kick you all out at 10pm for some beauty sleep.”

I chuckle again.

“I don’t know… will you make your samosas? Will Jenny make her mango cheesecake?”

“She’s going to make a pineapple and passion fruit one,” Priya replies, “and yes, I’m making samosas. Veggie and meat.”

My tummy flips at the thought of such deliciousness.

“What time do you want me?”

“Just come straight from work,” Priya tells me. “Unless you’re muddy. You won’t get any cuddles from Indy if she sniffs rugby dirt on you.”

“Oh, well, I cannot disappoint Her Excellency! Do you want me to bring anything?”

“Nope, just your fine self. We still have loads of booze leftover from the summer.”

“Okay then. If I don’t see you flying about school tomorrow, I’ll see you Thursday..”

“See ya!”

-cXc-

Notes:

Thank you for reading! xxx

Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Summary:

Charlie is invited to Priya's dinner party. Nick can't stop smiling. Doughnut fails lead to a welcome phone call.

Notes:

Thanks for reading, commenting and recommending this fluffball of a story! Much appreciated! Also very much appreciated is the ray of sunshine that is HanKitchman, who beta-read this little fic!

Chapter Four

Charlie

Priya: Are you free Thursday evening? Having a few people over for dinner and it would be lovely if you could join us.

Priya and I have texted a few times but haven’t yet managed to meet up since I moved. My initial thought when I get her invitation is to politely decline. New people, an unfamiliar house, mystery food… but I realise that’s my anxiety talking.

P: BTW we’re having Indian food because that’s my forte! Samosas are my specialty. Jenny’s making a tropical fruit cheesecake for pud.

P: There should be six of us. I really hope you can make it. (Oh, and the cat might make an appearance.)

Six people is doable. Six is not too intimidating but also not too intimate. And I love the sound of homemade Indian food.

Charlie: I love cats! And dinner would be wonderful. What time do you want me to come round? Can I bring anything?

P: Can’t wait to see how you’re settling into the neighbourhood! Come around 7pm and just bring your fine self!

She texts me her address and I put the dinner party into my calendar. Not that I’ll forget about it, but I like to look back over my schedule from time to time to see the things I’ve done. Yesterday’s Green Gopher pickup was in my calendar because the app put it there, but I added a little note; I met Hot Mario Mug Man again, aka Nick. Still gorgeous!

--

Tuesday starts out normally, but just before lunch, James is called up to the senior management floor out of the blue. All of us look at each other, silently wondering why. When James walks back into our department at two o’clock, he’s kind of pale and jittery.

“James, love, are you all right?” asks Sahar, jumping up from her desk. “Shall we get you a cup of tea? You look ashen.”

James nods weakly and so Sahar ushers him into the break area. I decide to follow them.

“Can you talk about it?” I wonder as James sips at his tea with three sugars. “Do you need to go home?”

“I-I…” James mumbles, then looks up at me and Sahar and pulls out a black keycard. Black is a special access card. Only senior managers and heads of department have them… oh holy shit!

“You’re going to be head of department?” Sahar murmurs. “Permanently?”

“Y-yeah,” James says, finally smiling. He looks around and drops his voice. “Wasn’t expecting it. But they’re definitely firing Harry; he just doesn’t know it yet.”

“This is great news for you,” I reply, keeping my voice down too so the rest of the team don’t hear. “So why do you look so shook up?”

“Just overwhelmed,” James mumbled through a mouthful of tea. He’s calming down now. “I honestly thought they were going to say my work hasn’t been up to scratch.”

“You’ve done more in three weeks than Harry did all last year,” Sahar assures him. “You deserve this.”

“Thanks.”

“We should celebrate at Friday Drinks,” I say. Before he can protest, I add, “nothing big. I’ll just bring some cake or something.”

“Or something?” James asks, looking at me with big hopeful eyes. 

“What’s your favourite?”

“Promise you won’t judge?”

“No, not at all. Why?”

“I like simple, basic plain ring doughnuts,” he replies. “No icing, no jam. Just a bit of sugar on top.”

“Sounds yum,” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with simple pleasures.”

“Totally,” agrees Sahar. “I’m thirty-five going on eighty-five clearly, because my thing is malt loaf, extra squidgy, with real butter.”

“I like a brownie, but no fancy additions,” I tell them. “Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.”

James giggles and grins at us. “You folx are the best,” he says, then drains his tea. “Right, back to work!”

--

I don’t know what possesses me to try to make doughnuts at home, but the whole endeavour is a disaster. The bloody things don’t prove for ages, and then when I’ve finally fried them off, they taste like sweet grease balls. That’s £3 of ingredients down the drain. I could have got three packs of doughnuts at the supermarket for that price. Groaning, I eat half a brownie from Bonnie’s and stick Value For Money on the TV. 

Before I even get through the opening credits, my phone lights up.

N: Good day today?

There’s something about seeing Nick’s text on my screen that makes me all warm and fuzzy.

C: Good day at work. My friend got promoted. But not-so-great evening. I was trying to make doughnuts for him and they were awful!

N: exploding doughnut gif

N: I happen to be quite the baker. Perhaps I could help?

N: We could FaceTime and then I can talk you through a second go?

C: Um… I think I’m done for the night

N: Yeah, sure.

N: Probably a bit forward of me.

C: Plus I look like crap. I got flour EVERYWHERE

N: Noo… That sounds adorable

C: Haha, it’s really not lol

C: But I like that you’re bold. I’m going to pass on FaceTime, but maybe we could chat on the phone instead?

N: Sure. Why don’t you call when you’re ready? I’ll be up until about 10.30ish.

C: Great. Just give me five mins!

I quickly turn off the TV before the characters have even had their meet-cute, shove the brownie back into the fridge and run into the bathroom where I wash my face, brush my teeth and get into my PJs. I want to be as comfy as possible when I’m talking to Nick. Finally, when I’m settled in bed, I call him.

“Hi Charlie.”

Hmm, that deep, calm voice is like sinking into a heavenly pillow.

“Hello, you,” I reply, trying to speak slowly to slow my racing heart. “So, how was your day?”

“Hectic,” he murmurs. “We call it ‘Twisted Tuesdays’ at work because it’s so busy.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a teacher,” Nick replies, and even though he sounds tired, I can tell he loves his work. “French mainly, but also general studies and PE if needed.”

“I’m not surprised you’re a teacher,” I tell him. “You have a very gentle manner, yet I’m sure you can be firm and commanding when you want to be.”

“I suppose.” He clears his throat and I can’t help but smirk to myself. He definitely caught my double entendre. “What about you?”

“Oh, I can be firm and commanding too!”

“Haha, I bet!” Nick laughs. “I mean, how was your day? You said your friend got promoted?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It was a pretty standard day until then. I’m an accountant so the bar is quite low when it comes to interesting things happening at work, but James getting the Head of Department gig was great.”

“You’re an accountant?” Nick says. “That’s cool.”

“Nobody has ever called my job cool before,” I chuckle.

“I have pretty awful number-dyslexia, so finances are a nightmare for me,” he says quietly. “I’m in awe of anyone who’s good at maths. My best friend has to help me with taxes, bills and stuff.”

“Oh.” We’re silent for a moment and then I manage to find my words. “So you said you like baking? What do you do about all the weighing and measuring?”

“I use American recipes,” he replies. “They tend to use cups instead of weights. If I have to use a British one, I use Google to translate it to American for me. But mainly I just know my regular recipes by heart, so don’t bother looking it up.”

I’m glad he feels able to talk about his numeracy issues openly. I wonder if it's a big deal for him to tell me that, to tell something so important about himself, because I struggle to share personal stuff. And yet, I feel like I could tell him anything and everything. 

“So any tips for doughnuts?”

“Honestly, don’t bother!” he says with a chuckle. “They’re usually more hassle than they’re worth, unless you’ve got a professional kit and a big fryer. It’s especially not worth it when you can get top notch ones from the supermarket for like £1 for four.”

“Duly noted,” I reply. “I’ll just chalk it up to an expensive lesson.”

“Expensive?” Nick asks. “Did you spend a lot of time and money?”

“Only like £3, but I don’t like to waste food. Or anything for that matter.”

“ Me neither,” Nick agrees. “I like to get value for money.” He sighs softly then pauses. “Especially since my divorce.”

Understanding settles in my bones. 

“Ah, I see. So I’m guessing you’re having to pay rent or a mortgage solo now?”

“I am!” Nick suddenly sounds more animated . “It’s such a pain in the… you know.”

“Oh I really do know, sweetheart,” I agree. Nick opened up about his situation - time to be brave and tell him about mine. “I had to sell my place in London to move up here because I couldn’t afford it solo after my break-up.”

“Oh no…” Nick’s gentle voice is back. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through it too, Charlie. Breaking up, splitting everything… it’s so stressful.”

“It was,” I say, my heart heaving at the memory of it. “But I’m glad to be shot of the dickhead. Even though my arse is totally broke, it was worth it to be free.”

“I know what you mean,” Nick murmurs. “It took me way too long to realise how toxic my ex-wife was. How selfish. So yeah, even though I work stupid hours and I scrimp and save to pay my mortgage, to keep my house and be free… worth it in the end.”

“When did you split up?”

“About a year and a half ago,” he replies. “ Last I heard she was in Miami, trying to be a ‘fitfluencer.’”

“Oh dear God, really?” That sounds awful. “Aren’t there like a million of those all over the internet?”

“Thank you!” Nick cries . “But she was determined. I was too ‘suburban’ and she needed more than our ‘quiet little life.’”

“A ‘quiet little life’ is exactly what I’ve been after for years,” I tell Nick. “Even though I lived in a really lovely part of London, it was just so busy. My ex was never happy to stay in and watch TV. He’d always want to be doing something. Or someone, as it turned out.”

“He cheated?”

“Yep.”

“How long have you been split up?”

“Over a year, like fifteen, sixteen months,” I say. “I had to stay in London to sort out the mess he left behind but then applied for any decent job I could get that wasn’t in the capital.”

“And that’s how you ended up in Leeds?” Nick murmurs. His voice is a little sleepy now, and it’s so cute. “How long have you been here?”

“Just over a month. Work put me up in a city centre flat at first until I found a flat in North Leeds. I moved in this weekend.”

“Oh wow, so when we met in the charity shop…”

“That was the day I was flat-hunting,” I tell him. “I was just killing time before getting the bus back to town.”

“So now you're living in Moortown?”

“Yep, between The Corner and Moortown Park.”

“I’m about a ten minute walk from there,” he says. “I like that you’re so close.”

“I like that I’m close too,” I reply. “So, uh, are we still on for Saturday? A walk to Roundhay Park? I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“It’s gorgeous, and huge,” Nick agrees, stifling a yawn. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” I say. “Go, get some sleep. Have a great day tomorrow.”

“You too, love, you too. Good night.”

“’Night.”

I hang up the call and squeal into a pillow like a teenager. God, he’s wonderful. And when he called me ‘love?’ Big Swoon. I know it’s a Yorkshire thing but still. Wow.

**** 

Nick

I haven’t crushed this hard on anyone since I was in high school. And it’s glorious. I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face. The healthier food I’m eating means I’ve lost a couple of pounds, and I’ve been to the gym three days in a row, so my confidence is growing.

“Okay, what’s with you?” asks Tara as I walk into the staff room. “You could power the school with the wattage in your grin.”

“He was like that yesterday too,” Priya says with a chuckle, passing Tara a cuppa as she sits next to her on the battered grey sofa. “Bouncing around like Tigger.”

“Is it your new fella?” Tara asks. “Have you seen him since Sunday?”

“What’s this?” Priya’s eyes go wide. “You’re seeing someone?”

“It’s very new, and I don’t want to jinx it, but yeah…” I feel my cheeks burn red but I still don’t stop smiling. “We’ve got our first proper date on Saturday but we’re texting and we spoke on the phone Tuesday night.”

 “I’m so happy for you, Nick!” Priya exclaims. “It’s great to see you joyful.”

“I’m really trying not to get too excited about it,” I tell them, “but it’s hard. He’s just gorgeous and seems so kind and gentle.”

“Quite the opposite of Annie,” Tara observes. “Is that the reason you like him so much?”

Tara’s been my best friend since uni, and she likes to play Devil’s Advocate because I’m an optimist and she’s a realist.

“Maybe,” I murmur, looking down before looking up. “You think I’m rebounding?”

“Maybe,” Tara hedges. “My protective instincts are kicking in, I guess.”

I lean across and kiss her cheek. “And I love you for it.”

“I know,” she says with a smirk before standing up. “Right, I’d better go warm up or I’ll be hobbling after my Year 8 class!”

“See you later Tara,” Priya says.

“See you T,” I echo.

When Tara’s gone, Priya crosses one leg over the other and tucks her arm into mine.

“Still on for tonight?” she asks, while helping herself to one of the grapes in my lunchbox. “I hope so because we have cooked enough for sixty people, not six!”

“I’ll quite happily take home leftovers,” I reply. “Who else is coming, anyway?”

“Well, Jen and I decided to invite one old friend and one new friend each, so she’s invited Natalie, her oldest friend, and her new colleague at the tennis club. I think his name is JC.”

“And who’s your new friend?”

“Oh, he’s a new neighbour of sorts. I met him while he was flat-hunting. When he was admiring your cottage actually! He’s called Charlie.”

“Ch-Charlie?” I stutter. Surely it can’t be the same Charlie? My Charlie? “Cute name. Where’s he moved from?”

“London,” Priya says, helping herself to more of my grapes. “To be honest, I kind of thought you’d hit it off, you know? But I’m really pleased you’ve got someone new.”

“Thanks,” I mumble. “The thing is…”

“What?” Priya’s hand stops halfway to her mouth.

“My someone new… he’s called Charlie and he moved here from London last month.”

“Oh… Oh.”

--

When the doorbell rings, my heart immediately starts racing and my hands go clammy. After describing Charlie to Priya, she confirmed that he’s the same Charlie. I’m so excited to see him again, and hope he’s not freaked out when he sees me.

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” I hear a soft, sweet, musical voice say as Priya opens the door. “I know you said not to bring anything but…”

“Ooh, what’s this?” Priya asks and I hear the rustle of a paper bag.

“Nothing big!” Charlie interjects. “Just some brownies from Bonnie’s, that American bakery? They’re frozen so they’ll keep for ages.”

“Well, great minds think alike because Nick brought us goodies from Bonnie’s too!”

“N-Nick?” I hear Charlie say.

 A second later, I’m on my feet as Priya and Charlie come in.

“H-hi Charlie,” I murmur. “Small world, huh?”

Charlie’s heartstoppingly beautiful face breaks out into a huge grin.

“It’s you!”

I can’t help myself. He just looks so adorable and I can smell his spicy aftershave from here… I step forward and wrap my arms around him. After a split second, he locks his arms around my waist and curls his head into my neck.

“Hi…” I mumble. God, he feels so good. So bloody good.

“Hi,” he says, melting against me. “I can’t believe my luck, getting to see you before our date.”

I hold onto him a little tighter. I still know very little about Charlie, but this feels so right.

“Me neither, Kind Hottie,” I whisper into his ear, and he giggles, before rubbing his palms on my back. “That feels nice.”

“You feel nice,” he mumbles. “Warm and firm and—”

“Okay!” Jenny interjects. “Charlie is the reason you’ve been glowing and grinning like a loon since you got here, eh Nick?”

“Yeah,” I say, reluctantly turning away from Charlie to look at her. “We met a couple of weeks ago in a charity shop when Charlie was flat-hunting, and then again Sunday afternoon at Bonnie’s and… um…”

“It was mutual,” Charlie says, lifting his head. “It’s still early days but I am looking forward to finding out all about you.”

“Me too, love, me too,” I tell him as I squeeze his hand.

“This is my other half, Jenny,” says Priya.

“This is Natalie, my best friend since school,” says Jenny. “And my colleague at the tennis club, JC.”

JC, who basically looks like Novak Djokovic but with blond hair, gives Charlie a sweeping up-and-down look of appreciation, and my guts clench with possessiveness that I have no right to feel.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Charlie says.

“Nice to meet you too, Charlie,” Natalie replies. She’s mid-forties, with dark hair, a bit of a yummy-mummy vibe about her, but I’ve met her a few times and she’s very sweet.

“Just excuse us a moment while we get the food out,” said Priya, taking Jen’s hand. “Chat among yourselves!”

“So how do you all know each other?” Charlie asks, as we take our seats around the dining table.

“I just started coaching tennis at the club in Chapel Allerton,” replies JC. “Jen’s my supervisor.”

“Cool,” Charlie replies. “I like watching tennis, but I’ve got terrible hand-eye coordination.”

“I’m sure I could help you with your serve,” JC says, leering at Charlie slightly.

Beside me, Charlie stiffens slightly and moves a tiny bit closer to me.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to running,” Charlie mumbles. “I’ve found a few good routes near my flat and around the city centre.”

“I’m pretty slow but I like jogging, as long as it’s not raining,” I say. “Maybe we could go for a run one day?”

“I’d like that,” Charlie murmurs, touching my forearm lightly as he glances up at me. His cheeks are slightly pink and my heart just leaps. “I’d like that so much.”

Charlie takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze. Out of the corner of my eye I see JC’s shoulders slump and eyes roll. I can’t find it in me to feel sorry for the guy, not when I’ve got all of Charlie’s warm attention.

“Dinner’s ready!” Priya calls as she passes dishes through a kitchen hatch and Jenny places the dishes on the table. It smells incredible. “Now, don’t stand on ceremony! Help yourselves!”

“Um, what is everything?” Charlie asks in a soft voice. “It smells divine but, uh…” His voice tails off and he looks at his hands which are now in his lap.  I can’t help but sneak my hand across to cover his. He looks up, a sweet, grateful smile across his face.

“Oh yeah, let me talk you through the menu!” Priya interjects, exuding warmth, and I feel Charlie’s tense fingers relax slightly. Priya starts lifting lids off dishes. “This is my famous Aloo Gobi, cauliflower and potato curry, and this is chicken in coconut sauce with curry leaves. This one is fried aubergines stuffed with chilli peanut mix. Then we’ve got plain and fried rice, raita salad, and my famous samosas, both lamb and veggie, at Nick’s request!”

“They are the best!” I agree.

“Thank you,” Charlie murmurs, relaxing a little more. “I can’t wait to try it all.”

“Help yourself,” Jen enthuses.

All the food tastes magical, bursting with flavour and colour. But what I enjoy even more is seeing Charlie make yummy noises and appreciative moans as he eats. Priya beams at Jen when he goes for second helpings. I don’t know why, but that feels like a big deal for him. Over the meal, we’re mostly quiet as Natalie talks at us about her pending divorce and her kids acting out. Meanwhile JC tries to low-key flirt with her but is still making eyes in Charlie’s direction. Creeper.

“That was some spread!” Charlie says as he puts his cutlery down and pats his flat tummy. “It was delicious.” He turns to Priya. “And all of this was made from your family recipes?”

“Pretty much,” Priya tells him. “Although the chicken curry was a recipe from a Sri Lankan friend.”

“I’m so impressed,” Charlie replies. “When my new flat is all set up, you have to come for dinner at mine. I’m nowhere near as good a cook as you but I’d love to have you over.”

“Priya wasn’t wrong when she said you were cute as a button,” Jen replies, pointing at his plate so he hands it to her. “We’d love to, but only when you’re ready.”

--

“So Charlie,” Jen begins as she’s serving the amazing-looking tropical fruit cheesecake, “Priya mentioned that you moved up here from London. Is that where you’re from originally?”

Charlie tilts his head to one side.

“Kind of,” he says, taking a dessert plate from her. “I always think of myself as being from Kent. My siblings and I were born there, but when I was fourteen, my parents got jobs at a private school in London. It came with a house and free education for us kids, so they rented out our family home and off we went.”

“So your parents are teachers?” I ask.

“Not my dad. He’s also an accountant by background,” Charlie replies. “He got a job as the school’s bursar and finance manager. My mum’s a teacher though, French and Spanish, and my little brother Oliver has just qualified as a PE teacher and football coach.”

“So you have a brother and a sister?” asks Natalie.

“Yes. My sister Tori is one of my closest friends,” Charlie says, his face lighting up. “She’s just over a year older than me so we’re really tight. She lives in Bristol with her partner Michael.”

“Accountant or teacher?” I tease softly, sitting down at the table next to him.

“Haha,” he laughs, leaning into me. “Both!”

“Both?”

“Tori’s a lecturer in accounting and finance at Bristol Uni.”

“So the whole family is brilliant, just like you?” I murmur, and he looks at me with his huge, ocean-blue eyes.

“Brilliance, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder,” he murmurs back, fluttering his lashes slightly.

Oh God, my heart. I want to scoop him up and never let him go.

“Trust me, you’re brilliant and beautiful,” I manage to say. He blushes and ducks away, but I gently touch the underside of his chin. He turns his face towards me. “You don’t believe that?”

“I may have had my confidence knocked recently,” he admits. “Life dealt me a crap hand.”

The phrase triggers something in my brain and I find myself looking down at his hands. His long, elegant fingers… oh wow. Is Charlie @accountantneedstosave ?

“Me too,” I reply. “Want to recover together?”

He smiles up at me and brings one hand to my hot cheek, stroking it with his thumb as we ignore everyone else in the room.

“Absolutely.”

-cXc-

Chapter 5: Chapter Five

Summary:

Nick walks Charlie home after Priya and Jen's dinner party. A certain white Persian cat's adventures affect Nick and Charlie's weekend plans.

Notes:

A big thanks to all of you who are reading, commenting and recommending this story! I know it involves styles I've used before and common tropes, but I like that it's a bit of an homage to romcoms! Plus, I wanted to write something fluffy and light after Butterfly Club which was quite long, and Without Me which was so sad!

Big thanks to HanKitchman for the beta read.

Chapter Five

Charlie

It’s with reluctance that I tear myself away from Priya and Jen’s cosy dinner party, even with skeezy JC in the corner. Let’s face it, Nick is the one I don’t want to leave.

“I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to get up for work in the morning, and I don’t function well without sleep,” I tell everyone, in response to Priya offering around more tea. “I’d better head off.”

“Me too,” Nick says. “I’ve got to run a breakfast club in the morning.”

“At least it’s Friday tomorrow,” Priya says. “Weekend!”

“Ugh, we have to work,” grumbles Jen, looking at JC, who nods.

“And I have to parent,” adds Natalie. “Their dad is going out of town, even though it’s his weekend.” She says so with such an acerbic tone that my tummy clenches slightly. Poor kids, having two parents who detest each other so much.

“What are you up to this weekend, Charlie?” asks Jen. She’s so lovely, not that it’s a surprise, because Priya’s the most genuine person, like, ever.

“Um…” I look over at Nick whose gorgeous freckled cheeks turn pink. “Nick’s taking me to Roundhay Park on Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, Charlie’s never been and it’s supposed to be dry…” Nick tails off.

“Oh Nick, you don’t have to explain!” Priya laughs. “Hope you two have a lovely date!”

Nick and I both laugh.

“We will,” Nick replies. “Charlie, may I walk you home?”

Now it’s my cheeks that flush.

“If it’s not out of your way… sure.”

He squeezes my knee and tingly heat rushes through me.

“It would be a pleasure.”

“Okay then.”

It’s a cool night so when we start moving, I involuntarily shiver in the wind.

“Here.” Nick passes me the bags of leftover curry Priya packed for us, then shrugs off his zip-up hoodie and drapes it over my shoulders. “I usually run hot.”

“Hmm, yes you do,” I can’t help but tease, squeezing his thick bicep. He grins back. “Thank you,” I add quietly, moving the bag to my wrist then fumbling with the zip.

“Let me.”

He steps forward and grabs the end of the zip, then does it up slowly, keeping eye contact with me. Oh, God, just that little action has given me a semi. When he reaches the top, his face is so close to mine that I gasp a little. I can smell his fresh, clean, woody scent and it’s fucking intoxicating.

“Err… hi,” I mumble like an idiot. “Um, uh, sorry…”

“No sorries, love,” Nick mumbles, licking his lips. “God, I want to kiss you so badly.”

“You can if you want,” I shoot back, desperate for that plump, full mouth on mine. Instead, however, Nick takes the bag of Tupperware, puts it down, then brings both my hands in his and kisses the back of each one in turn.

“We have an audience,” Nick whispers, tilting his head towards Priya and Jen’s front door. I turn and see that Priya, Jen and Natalie are watching us through the porthole style window in the door. When they see us, they duck away.

“Oh.”

Nick lets go of my hands and then wraps one strong arm around my waist before picking up the bags again.

“Let’s go,” he says, holding me tight.  “You said you live between Moortown Corner and the little park, right?”

“Right.”

We start walking, with Nick pressing my side with his big hand as we move.

“It feels like the universe is telling us something,” he says after a minute. “We keep bumping into each other.”

“I know,” I agree, slipping my arm around his back. “The first two made sense because we live in the same neighbourhood, but the fact that Priya was the first person I met here, and she’s one of your close friends… it feels serendipitous.”

With my arm around him, I feel Nick shiver slightly.

“That’s such a lovely word… serendipitous. ”

Oh… does Nick have a word thing? I decide to test it out.

“I know right? Very mellifluous.”

“Y-yeah,” Nick mumbles.

I stop walking and turn towards him, our hands still on each other’s waists.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I ask. “You seem a little… discombobulated.”

“God Charlie…” Suddenly his hands are cupping my face and his forehead is pressed against mine. “You are so articulate. It’s fucking hot.”

“The feeling is very mutual,” I whisper, my lips almost, but not quite touching his.

“I am desperately trying to take this slow,” Nick admits, “even though all my instincts are telling me to haul you over my shoulder and take you to bed,” I feel myself gulp at this very appealing image. “But you deserve more,” he continues, “and so do I. I don’t want a fling. Cards on the table, I want a relationship. A partner in life. Sorry to bring out the heavy stuff before we’ve even gone on a proper date but I think it’s important to say.”

Reluctantly, I take a tiny step back, and his eyes drop, but he keeps hold of my waist and I clutch onto his.

“I’m glad you did,” I tell him. “And I am definitely after a long-term relationship, sweetheart. I'm not looking for a hook-up. Thank you for being brave enough to tell me what you need and want.”

Nick sighs in relief, and steps back too.

“I promise that if you want me to kiss you tomorrow during or after our date, I’ll kiss you,” he murmurs.

“I won’t hold you to that promise,” I say, rubbing his side. “But if it feels right, then… yeah.”

Nick beams at me, his handsome face illuminated by a street lamp.

“May I hug you?”

“Yeah.”

He gently tugs me close again and I wrap my arms around his neck, before tucking my head under his chin. We stay like that for longer than is probably appropriate, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Finally though, I feel him kiss the top of my head through my unruly curls, and then he lets go and offers me his hand.

“Shall we get you home, gorgeous?”

“Yeah.”

--

 “No way! You’re from Rochester too?” I cry. “You’re shitting me, aren’t you?”

“I promise I’m not,” Nick says, grinning. He’s got a fleck of cheesecake crumb at the corner of his mouth. It’s so adorable. “I went to St John’s Sports Academy.”

“I went to Truham Grammar!” The two schools were just three miles apart and big rivals. “Well, until we moved to London.”

“I would have gone there if I hadn’t been accepted at St John’s,” Nick explains. “But my dad really wanted me to pursue rugby as a career.”

“So you must be really good then,” I say, unable to stop myself from glancing at his thick, firm thighs. Wow.

“I’m decent…” He ducks away, all modest. He’s going to be the death of me with this level of hot cuteness. “But I’m not playing at the moment, even though I’m desperate to return.”

“Why not, sweetheart?” I ask softly. 

“I have to work more because of my financial situation. Which means I don’t have time to go to training during the week. No training, no matches.”

“That’s fair, I suppose, to prevent players from getting injured,” I observe. “It sucks that you have to give up your favourite thing though.”

“It is,” Nick agrees. “But it’s like what we were saying on the phone. Worth it to be free of my ex.”

“I know that feeling,” I reply. “My ex was such a piece of work. His cheating ended our relationship, and our business.”

“Bastard!”

We stop walking. Nick reaches for my other hand, so the handles of the bags are trapped between them, but I don’t care.

“She didn’t deserve you!”

“He didn’t deserve you!”

We say the words at the same time and then laugh. Nick stares deep into my eyes and then lets go of one of my hands to cup my cheek.

“His loss is Leeds’s gain,” he murmurs. “Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing as both of us have precarious finances right now, would it be okay to agree not to plan fancy, expensive dates? At least for a couple of months until we’re on more of an even keel.”

“Value for money dates?” I reply, turning my face into his palm. “I’m down for that.”

“Value for money,” he repeats, his voice husky. But then his beautiful eyes sparkle with mischief. “Perhaps I’ll take you out for soda water made to look like G&T,” he says with a wink.

“How did you know that I drink that?” I exclaim.  “OMG, Nick…” My hand shoots to cover my mouth in shock as I slowly realise why Nick knows. “Are you @ Nicknzzzzz on Instagram?”.”

“I am,” he admits. 

“You follow my budgeting account.”

“Is that okay?” He looks a little worried.

God yes. I want him even more. I want to climb him like a bloody tree.

“Very okay,” I manage to croak. “More… serendipity.”

He licks his lips and his eyes travel from mine, down my body, sending goosebumps skittering across my skin. Oh yeah, he wants his tree climbed. By me.

Nick suddenly clears his throat and stands a little straighter.“As much as I’d love to continue our blatant flirting, it’s getting late and tomorrow’s a school day. But I’ll see you Saturday?

“Of course,” I say. I point to my building. “This is me.”

“Good night, gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful Charlie,” he says before kissing my cheek. “Sorry, I’m naturally very affectionate. Just tell me if you want me to back off a bit.”

“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I’m pretty tactile.”

“I thought so,” Nick murmurs with a soft smile.

“Where’s your place from here?” I ask him.

“Oh, uh…” He looks around. “Actually, I live around the corner from Priya and Jen, like ten houses away.”

“You walked ten minutes out of your way for me?”

“Worth it,” he grins. “I loved spending time with you.”

“Me too,” I reply. “Say, don’t Priya and Jen have a cat? It wasn’t around tonight.”

“Indy’s a law unto herself,” Nick laughs. “She’s probably in my apple tree again. Or in Lady Lucy’s shed.”

“’Lady Lucy?’”

“The old lady who lives opposite Priya,” he explains. “She’s very regal. All pearls and cashmere.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“I look forward to meeting her.”

“Lady Lucy or Indy?”

“Both!”

Nick joins me in the laughs.

“So, Saturday at ten, outside the ice cream parlour?” he says when we’ve stopped chuckling.

“Yes. I’ll bring a flask of tea and cookies for us to have in the park.”

He turns to face me, still holding my hand, and runs his fingers into the curls at the back of my head.

I lean up to kiss his cheek, and then he kisses mine.

“A walk in the park with a gorgeous man, plus tea and cookies?” Even though it’s dark, I can tell that Nick’s eyes are sparkling. “Lucky, lucky me.”

**** 

Nick

With the prospect of seeing Charlie on Saturday morning, I don’t sleep that well on Friday night, but nevertheless I bounce out of bed to get ready for our walk. I’m actually good to go at 9.30 so I end up pacing up and down my living room so I’m not there too early.

Just as I’m getting ready to leave, Priya calls.

“Hi Priya, I’m just on my way to meet Charlie—”

“So sorry, Nick but we haven’t seen Indy since yesterday morning. Any chance she’s in your tree again?”

“Hang on…” I step out of my door and lock it, before going over to the tree. The path and the grass are wet; it must have rained overnight. But there’s no sign of the cat. “Sorry, Priya, she’s not here. Did you try Lady Lucy?”

“She’s in Barbados,” Priya replies. Well of course she is.

“Look, let me go get Charlie and we’ll come help you look, okay?” I tell her. “I just don’t want him thinking I’m late or I’ve forgotten about our date or…”

“Aww, Nick, it’s okay. Don’t worry about helping. You always do. Jen and I will find her…”

“I’m sure Charlie won’t mind—” My phone vibrates with an incoming text. “Hang on a sec, he’s texting me…”

Charlie: So sorry, I’m going to be a little late. I found a lost cat under a car by the ice cream parlour. I’m just taking it to the vet opposite to see if it’s microchipped. The poor thing is freezing! Must have got caught in the rain overnight. 

C: <picture of soggy, wet, miserable white cat>

“Priya?”

“Yeah?”

“Uhh, I think Charlie’s found Indy.”

--

“Oh Indira Gandhi Singh-Stevens!” Priya exclaims, lifting the cat up into the air before cradling her like a baby. “This is what you get for prowling the neighbourhood at all hours, eh? Oh, my poor furchild.”

“What a coincidence that I found your cat,” Charlie murmurs, leaning over to scratch the top of Indy’s head. “And that you were on the phone to Nick when I texted.”

“Magic,” Priya sighs. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Charlie answers, beaming at her, the cat and then me.

“Don’t let us hold you up,” Priya says, wrapping Indy up in a blanket that she brought especially. “Go, enjoy the park. It’ll be quiet today because of the surprise rain.”

I kiss her on the cheek, and Charlie does the same, and then Priya heads off with the cat bundled in her arms.

“Hi,” I manage to say when she’s out of view.

“Hi.”

Suddenly, Charlie’s enveloping me in his arms, pressing his face into my shoulder.

“You okay?”

“I love cats but know nothing about them,” he mumbles. “For a horrible minute I thought she was going to die.”

“Oh Char.” I kiss his head. “Are you still up for this walk? We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to,” he says, looking up. “We might need to break into the tea earlier than planned though.”

“That’s no hardship at all.” Charlie lets go of me and I take the tote bag with the flask and cookies off his shoulder. I sling it over my shoulder then offer him my hand before kissing his cheek. “Let’s go, Char.”

“’Char?’”

I feel myself colour and tense.

“Um, sorry… it just came out!”

“No sorries…” Charlie smirks. “I like it. It’s cu-ute.”

“Well then I’m never calling you that again!”

We both chuckle and then start walking, in companionable silence, until we’re away from Moortown Corner and walking along the busier Street Lane. On the opposite side of the street, a group of Orthodox Jewish men are walking in the same direction, wives and children walking a few steps behind.

“I’ve noticed there are a lot of Jewish people in this area,” Charlie observes quietly.

“Yes, Moortown is the centre of the Jewish part of Leeds,” I explain. “There’s one of the synagogues.” I point to the synagogue’s large, high electric gates. Two security guards stand outside. “Even before everything that’s happening in Israel and Gaza, they’ve had to have security.”

“I imagine that most of them just want to live their lives, not defend themselves from what the Israeli government is doing,” Charlie murmurs. “Which is despicable.”

“Yes, definitely,” I agree. “This synagogue has a bagel bakery. Best ones in Leeds. The people are so friendly there, and yeah, the war is a sore point.”

“Oh!” Charlie says, stopping as he sees the bakery sign. “I think I’ve seen them on Green Gopher!”

“Me too,” I agree. “They aren’t open today but we should try tomorrow. The reviews say they give away loads.”

“Sounds good,” Charlie agrees, beaming up at me.

Suddenly a complete dickhead in a Maserati comes tearing down Street Lane, its tyres squealing. Charlie gasps and tenses, and my first instinct is to wrap my arms around Charlie and protect him.

“Sorry, love,” I tell him. “There are a handful of wankers who think Street Lane is Silverstone.”

“It’s okay,” Charlie mumbles into my shoulder. “I think I’m just still a bit jumpy from my impromptu cat rescue earlier.”

Suddenly, there’s a big crack in the sky and thunder rumbles loudly. Charlie tenses again, but this time looks to the sky and starts counting under his breath. Five seconds later, lightning flashes.

“We’re not going to make it to the park, Char,” I realise. “What do you want to do? I reckon we’re halfway between your place and mine.”

“Do you think Priya would mind if we visited Indy?” he asks, his blue eyes wide and shiny. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Oh my God. He’s just so sweet.

“Let me call her.”

--

Jenny opens the door cradling a purring Indy, who is now wrapped in a thick Indian-print scarf. She’s is dressed in her tennis coach uniform.

“She’s not wanted to be put down at all,” Jen says, standing to the side to let us in. “But it has only been fifteen minutes.”

“Our walk to the park is going to have to wait,” Charlie says, as thunder tells Jen why. “So I thought we could just check on Indy.”

“She’s okay,” Jen says, as Priya emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “I doubt she’ll learn her lesson from her adventure.”

“She hasn’t so far,” Priya says, taking Indy from Jen. “Want to hold her, Charlie?”

“Uhh, yeah! If that’s okay with Indy?”

Indy’s already looking at Charlie with big heart eyes.

“I think she’d be delighted to have cuddles from her rescuer, love,” I murmur, rubbing his back.

“Come here, little Indy,” Charlie whispers as he takes Indy into his arms. “Oh, you look so much better now you’re dry and fluffy.” He sways her gently. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty girl? Yes you are. So cute. You’re so cute.”

I suddenly have a flashforward of Charlie with a baby, cuddling and cooing. Our baby. Woah, chill Nelson, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Actually, how would you feel about cat-sitting for a couple of hours?” Jen asks. “Normally we wouldn’t worry about her being on her own for such a short time but with her little scare, she might be stressed without company.”

“I’m going to drop Jen at work and then I need to get some paint samples for our spare room,” says Priya. “I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

“Nick?” Charlie asks and I can see the hope in his voice. I rub his back and drop a little kiss into his curls.

“Yes, of course,” I agree. “Do we need to feed her or anything?”

“No, she’s just demolished a plate of Whiskas and drunk a bowl of water,” Jen says. “She’ll just want cuddles for a while and then she’ll sleep on the sofa or in her cat bed.”

“We can do cuddles,” Charlie coos. “Lots of cuddles.”

“Wow, you really love cats,” Priya observes.

“I do,” Charlie says. “But my parents aren’t keen on animals so I was never allowed to have one.”

“Aww,” Jen begins, as she’s shrugging on her raincoat. “Well, Indy loves you so we shall definitely be tapping you for cat-sitting from now on!”

“Definitely,” agrees Priya. “Right love, we should get going. Nick, you have our spare key right?”

“I do.” I put my arm around Charlie’s shoulders. “See you later.”

“Bye!” Jen calls. “Help yourself to drinks and snacks!”

And then they’re gone, while Charlie and I are alone. Well, alone with a very content Indira Gandhi.

“I’ll go find some mugs for the tea,” I say.

“And a plate for the cookies?” Charlie adds.

“You got it.”

I wander into Jen and Priya’s big kitchen and see that they weren’t kidding about the snacks. There are crisps, nuts, a packet of Jammie Dodgers and a bowl of fruit. The tea, coffee, milk and sugar are all out next to the kettle, as are two mugs.

I pick up the mugs and a plate, and go back into the living room, where Charlie is sitting on the sofa stroking Indy, who is rumbling as loud as the thunder outside.

“Oh my God, this is amazing,” he whispers. “It’s like I can feel the chillout hormones coursing through me as she purrs.”

“You look very content,” I say, sitting a few inches away from him once I’ve put the mugs down on the low table.

“I’d be even more content if you were here,” he replies, patting the space between us. “Double cuddles equals double happy hormones.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?”

I move closer so our thighs are touching, and place my arm over his shoulders. Charlie pets Indy with one hand while threading his fingers through the hand I have over his shoulder. My heart just soars in my chest, especially when he presses his side into mine and places a kiss on my temple.

“This isn’t how I imagined us spending the day,” Charlie says after a few moments of quiet. His eyes are darker than they were before. “It’s better.”

“Yeah?” I murmur, my voice husky as my breath catches in my throat. “Why’s that?”

“You promised to kiss me if I asked you, and we’re currently alone, sitting close, so I figure that I’m probably going to get kissed later.”

“You’re going to ask me?” I tease, cupping his thigh.

“I am,” he murmurs, “but not while Indy is watching.” He strokes her soft white fur and she lets out a new set of purrs. “Gotta protect her innocent eyes.”

“This cat stops out at night all the time,” I laugh. “She’s not that innocent. If she weren’t fixed I’m sure she’d have made Priya and Jen cat grandmas several times over.”

“Nooo…!” Charlie gasps and covers Indira’s ears. “Don’t listen to him, baby. He’s implying you’re a…” he drops his voice. “…S-L-U-T.”

“Nooo…!” I exclaim. “I was just saying that she is a full-grown independent woman who is free to do as she pleases with her time and her body.”

As if she’s been listening, Indy stands up on Charlie’s lap all of a sudden, kneads his thighs a couple of times and then jumps down. A moment later she’s curled up on her cat radiator bed, eyes closed.

“Well, it appears Indy is done with us,” Charlie murmurs, rubbing white cat hair off his slim-fit jeans. “Hmm.”

For a moment I think that this is the moment he’s going to ask for a kiss, but instead, he winks at me and then takes the tea and cookies out of his tote bags. He pours out two mugs of tea and places some cookies on a plate.

“Are those homemade?” I ask. “They look amazing.”

“Uh, yeah…” He shrugs. “After those awful doughnuts, I needed a baking do-over, and cookies are something I make a lot.”

“Me too,” I say, reaching for one. I take a bite and the taste is exquisite. Exquisitely familiar. “What recipe do you use?”

“An ancient one from one of my mum’s old cooking magazines,” he says, taking a sip of his tea. “She’s been using the same one since my little brother was born and he’s twenty-seven now.”

Now I have no doubt that it’s the same recipe.

“My mum was obsessed with Good Food Magazine back in the day,” I tell him. “Pretty much all our dinners came from there after my dad left.”

“Your dad left?” Charlie says, putting down his mug and gripping my forearm with his delicate fingers. “How old were you?”

“Nearly six,” I reply. “He’s French and he moved back to Paris. Disappeared overnight. My brother and I didn’t see him for a year after that. For a while we went to France every summer, but then he met my stepmother when I was fourteen and it’s been sporadic contact ever since.”

“Oh, mon cher, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, before leaning into me and kissing me along my cheek. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“Sounds like your dad’s quite different,” I murmur. “Taking a job in a school so you could spend more time together.”

“He’s great,” Charlie replies. “Totally under my mother’s thumb, but the kindest man in the world.”

“So that’s where you get your kindness from.” I cup his cheek and rub his chin with my thumb. I’m never normally this open with new people but I feel like I can tell him everything. That I can trust him. “God, you’re so amazing.”

“You’ve said that before,” Charlie whispers, his hand slipping between my thighs but not touching my crotch. Nevertheless, my balls tingle and I feel myself starting to harden. “When you look at me like that, I actually believe it.”

“Ask me the question, Charlie.” My voice has a tone of pleading in it, and I fully expect Charlie to tease me, but he’s looking at my lips, then meeting my eyes before staring at my mouth again.

“Nick, please kiss me.”

-cXc-

 

Notes:

Next update will probably be Sunday but might be Monday.

Thanks for reading!
BC xxx

Chapter 6: Chapter Six

Summary:

Nick and Charlie spend more time together. *Quality time.*

Notes:

So much love for this story already! Thank you for reading.

Big love to HanKitchman for the beta xxx

Chapter Six

Charlie

“Nick, please kiss me.”

The split second I wait before Nick answers feels like forever, but then, he whispers, “with pleasure,” and takes my face in both his hands.

The first touch of our lips is tentative, a light press, but then he takes my bottom lip between both of his and sucks gently, sighing softly into my mouth as we shift, slotting together to get even closer. Instinctively we’re kissing more deeply, Nick licking into my mouth as he runs his fingers into my hair. I can’t help but move onto his lap and one of his hands slips down my back to hold me there as he tilts his head, inhales and then goes in again, letting me get his bottom lip this time.

I need more; I’m shivering with the desire to be touched. Nick seems to notice because he shifts us forward a little and then pivots so he can lie back on the sofa, taking me with him. His arms wrap around my back and our legs tangle together. As we make out languidly, Nick’s hand slips under my jumper and t-shirt. He gently strokes the skin at the small of my back and I moan into his mouth, rocking my hardening bulge against him.

My fingers find the edge of his sweatshirt and soon I’m stroking his soft tummy, enjoying how his warm flesh yields to my touch, but then he stops kissing me abruptly and props himself onto his elbows.

“Is that not okay?” I ask, a bit dazed.

“No, it’s fine.. uh…”

“That doesn’t sound very sure.”

I try to sit up, but Nick anchors me to him with his legs, and lies back down so his arms are free to hold me again.

“I loved it,” he admits, “but then I got into my head about my big belly and how you’ll run away when you see it.”

“Are you kidding?” I run my fingers through his floppy auburn hair and rub my thumb across his mouth before pressing my tummy into his. “I love that you have some meat on you. That you have strength and depth.” I shuffle up a little bit so I’m hovering right above him. “When you’re ready, I’m going to nibble every inch of your body, especially your tummy, and then it’s going to be my pillow when we take a post-orgasm nap.”

“Jesus…” Nick breathes, before grabbing my face and pulling me in for another kiss.

This time, when my hands go exploring, he doesn’t stop me. We keep kissing as I find the drawstring of his joggers and I’m fumbling with the knot when the front door opens abruptly.

“OMG, did you know that Homebase has closed down?” Priya bellows as we hear her stamping her feet on the doormat. “I’m not trekking all the way over to B&Q or Dunelm, not when it’s pissing it down.”

By the time Priya comes into the living room, Nick and I have scrambled into a sitting position, but she gives us a knowing smirk. She strides over to Indy and picks her up.

“Were Uncle Nick and Uncle Charlie giving you a little show, Indira?” she murmurs into Indy’s head. “Look at their sex hair!”

Nick and I pat our heads as Priya cackles. My curls are wild and Nick’s hair is all tufty.

“Uh, yeah,” Nick begins. “We, um… Indy was asleep!”

We all laugh together. Indy squirms in Priya’s arms then jumps down and settles across Nick’s lap and mine, purring loudly.

“I don’t think she was,” I say, stroking her belly. “But I think she approves of us, sweetheart.”

Nick leans into me and covers my hand over Indy’s belly. He presses his temple to mine and even though I barely know him, I feel this mesmerising connection.

“I approve of us too,” he murmurs, pecking me on the lips before turning to Priya. “We should leave you to your morning.” Nick starts to get up but Indy yowls and digs her claws into his thigh.

“Nope,” Priya chuckles. “It seems that Indy wants to be third wheel on your date.”

“What if I promise to bring you catnip and tuna next time I visit?”

Indy glares at Nick and then shuffles so she is on my lap entirely.

“Nick, love, I think it’s Charlie you’ll need to bring,” Priya says. “You have been usurped as the favourite cat-uncle.”

I gather Indira into my arms and then stand up, pressing my nose into the soft fur of her neck.

“I am honoured Indy,” I mumble. “Nick and I will come back to visit, promise.”

She looks at me mournfully, licks my nose and then squirms to be put down.

--

It’s still raining a little when we step out of Priya and Jen’s house, but the storm has passed.

Still under the shelter of Priya’s front porch, I zip up my coat. “Where to?” I ask Nick. “I think it’s still too soggy for a walk.”

“I agree,” Nick replies. “Umm, how would you feel about coming to my place?”

He shifts nervously from foot to foot before looking up at me.

“What happened to taking things slow?” I murmur, placing my hands on his chest. “If I come to your house, won’t we just continue what we started on Priya’s sofa?”

“It’s likely,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing. “But… but… I just want to be with you.” His hands drift down to my waist. His grip is gentle yet firm and a ripple of lust runs through me as he pulls me close. “I’d love to continue what we started, but do you think we could get to know each other in all the ways, not just that one?”

“I don’t know…” I tease. “Will you make me tea in a Mario mug?”

“I’ll do one better, love,” he replies. “I’ll make you coffee.”

“Lead the way, Nick.”

It turns out that Nick really does live ten houses away from Priya and Jen, just around the corner. And I’m shocked and delighted to find out that he is the owner of the cute cottage I was admiring on my flat-hunting day.

“Wow, it’s absolutely gorgeous,” I gush, unable to quite believe that Nick lives here. “Just… wow.”

“I love it,” Nick admits as we get to the front door. “My little sanctuary.”

It’s as beautiful on the inside as out. Nick’s kept a lot of original features like an antique fireplace and a flagstone floor, but it’s painted in homely shades of blue, yellow and cream, with lovely modern furniture.

“Coffee?” he asks as he takes my hand. “Then I can give you the tour.”

 “Yes please.”

I brace myself for instant coffee, but I’m pleasantly surprised when Nick pulls out a cafetiere from a cupboard and a bag of Italian ground coffee from his freezer.

“I keep these for when my mum visits,” he explains, as if he knows what’s on my mind. “She likes this kind of coffee. I hope it’s okay for you?”

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

When he’s poured hot water on the coffee and put the lid on the cafetiere, I wrap my arms around him from behind and kiss between his shoulder blades. His body softens and his arms envelop mine.

“I’m feeling cuddly,” I murmur. “Hope this is okay.”

“Very,” he whispers, pressing back into me a little. “I love it.”

“You said you were tactile,” I say, going onto my tiptoes so I can kiss the back of his neck. “And you held my hand when we were walking earlier so I guess you don’t mind a little PDA?”

“A little,” he agrees, before letting out a tiny, contented moan as I kiss his neck again. “Or maybe a lot! That feels nice, love.”

He starts to stroke my forearms with his thick fingers, pressing his arse against me. I start to feel dizzy with arousal and warmth.

“Do you think you could turn around, Nick?” I ask, my voice husky as I roll my pelvis against his beautiful, round behind.

“If I do, your coffee’s going to be cold…”

“Don’t care,” I interject, letting go of his arms and running my hands up his chest. Nick turns around and, to my great surprise, lifts me up. He carries me to his sofa and gently lays me down before covering me with his body. I love the feel of him on me, his heat, his weight, his fresh scent.

“Is this okay?” he asks. “Will you tell me if I’m crushing you?”

“You’re perfect, sweetheart.” I run one hand down his back. “Please will you kiss me ag—”

His mouth finds mine and he kisses me desperately, our tongues dancing as we start to ebb and flow, pressing into each other, rolling together in harmony. He groans when I cup his delectable arse and squeeze it, and loses his fingers in my hair.

“Love your hair,” he mumbles. “Love your body. God, you’re so fucking hot. So beautiful. Mmm…”

I’m so hard that my cock is practically bursting through my zip, but Nick feels even harder, and goddamn it, so big.

“Can I…?” I push my hands under his sweatshirt and stroke his warm back.

“Want this off?”

“Yeah.”

He gets onto his knees above me, and I try to help him push off his top, giggling as our hands fumble. His chest is bulky, of course, because he’s a rugby player, but well-defined, with pecs to die for and dark, reddish-brown chest hair that I want to play with.

“Yours?” he asks, licking his bottom lip as he fingers the edge of my jumper and shirt. Self-consciousness suddenly floods me. I have scars on my arms from a difficult time as a teenager and I’m not quite ready for him to see them.

“Jumper yes, shirt… you can unbutton it but not off completely…” I look away from his intense gaze for a sec. I’m just not quite ready for him to see all of me. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek and then nuzzling into my neck with his nose. “I want you to be comfortable, Charlie.”

“I am,” I tell him, then turn my head to find his mouth.

As we kiss, he very slowly eases my jumper up my body. When it’s at my chest, he silently asks my permission to remove it, and I nod. Before he touches my shirt though, he kisses me so softly, it’s like a feather on my skin.

“You’re so beautiful, it takes my breath away,” he whispers before blinking a few times. “Do you remember… I, uh, haven’t actually done this with a guy before, so if I get it wrong…”

“You won’t,” I reassure him. “But I’ll tell you if I’m not into something you do, and vice versa, okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a relieved smile. He fingers the top button of my shirt. “May I?”

He kisses just above my top button, then undoes it. He then does the same thing for my next button, and I can’t help but close my eyes as his mouth and fingers descend down my body. Suddenly his mouth is over my belly button, and he’s kissing and licking around it, his chin resting just above my hard cock. I shiver as even more blood goes south, and he looks up.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, but he frowns.

“I don’t want you to be cold,” he says, and then pulls the fleece blanket that’s draped over the back of the sofa. Suddenly we’re cocooned in soft, fluffy heat. It's such a small gesture, but so damn romantic. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so cherished.

I gently stroke his hair as he works open my fly, but to my surprise, his mouth doesn’t go lower; instead, he starts kissing his way back up my chest, holding me by the waist gently as he licks my nipples in turn.

“Would you mind if we just stick to touching today?” he asks. “Touching and lots of kissing?”

“I don’t mind at all, sweetheart,” I reply. “Come up here a sec.”

He moves up so he’s staring into my eyes and I cup his face. He smiles softly, and presses his lips to mine. We keep kissing as his hand drifts down my chest and tummy, until he’s feeling under my open jeans and teasing his fingers over my boxers. I gasp as he brushes over my cockhead.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah but, umm, it’s really sensitive,” I say. “I’m so turned on right now.”

Nick’s eyes widen all of a sudden, and he says, “I just realised that I haven’t got any lube. I don’t use it to get myself off, and there hasn’t been anyone so…”

“Nick, Nick, it’s fine. I don’t use it either…”

“I’m making this really awkward, aren’t I?” he mumbles, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. “I’m—”

“No sorries. This is supposed to be fun,” I interject. I press a long kiss to his head. “Just go with your instincts. Start with touching me the way you like to touch yourself. Maybe you could tell me how you do that so I know how to please you too.”

He relaxes a little and kisses along my collarbone, as he rubs my cock a little through my boxers, then pushes my jeans down to my ankles. I can feel pre-come leaking as his large hand squeezes me, and then he dives underneath, so his palm is on my shaft. The feel of this alone is enough to make me gasp with ecstasy.

“When I touched myself this week,” he begins, rubbing his thumb over my wet slit, “I thought about doing this to you.”

“That’s so fucking hot,” I moan, as he takes hold of me more firmly and tugs lightly. “Oh God, yes!”

“I like a firm grip when I get myself off, and it seems you do too,” he croons in my ear as we rock together, his cock wedged against my hip. “I also like to play with my balls.”

He leans against my chest as his other hand finds my balls. He rolls them as he continues jerking my cock, and pleasure starts shooting through me like fireworks.

“Keep doing that,” I tell him. “Fuck, yeah!”

“You feel so good, Charlie, and your skin tastes like honey… are you close, baby?”

The ‘baby’ absolutely does it for me, and my back arches as I get closer and closer.

“Y-yeah.”

“I like the feel of come shooting across my hand when I climax,” he tells me. “I can’t wait to feel yours. Would you judge me if I told you that I want to taste it too?”

“N-no judgement… baby.”

I try out the ‘baby’ on him too, suspecting that he’s probably not been called that much before, and he looks up, his face flushed. For a moment I think it’s put him off, but he grins, and peppers my mouth and chin with soft kisses as he jerks me faster. Just as I’m on the point of climax, Nick looks up all of a sudden, as if he can sense my impending orgasm, and he holds my gaze as my body releases the delicious tension he’s created.

“That’s it, love,” he coos into my neck. “So beautiful, so sexy. Let it all go, baby.”

“Baby,” I moan as my body spasms. “Amazing.”

“Amazing,” Nick repeats, before running his other hand into my curls and rubbing my nose with his.

****

Nick

This morning was supposed to be gentle walks and tea on a park bench. However, a thunderstorm and a wayward cat have led to something far more enjoyable and intimate than I think either of us were expecting.

Charlie’s soft in my arms, his eyes closed as he comes down from the utterly breathtaking crescendo of his orgasm. My hand is sticky with his release and I’m still hard as granite, but however fast we’ve gotten to this point, I don’t want to rush him. I’m just in awe of how beautiful he looks blissed out like this.

“Hmm,” he mumbles, blinking a few times. Then he grins, his beautiful face lighting up when we make eye contact. “You okay there sweetheart?”

“Very.” I lean in and he meets my mouth with a whisper of a kiss before sweeping my fringe away from my forehead. He seems to like doing that, which is fine by me. “You?”

“Floating in a sea of happiness.”

Suddenly he wraps his arms and legs around me and I find myself flipped onto my back.

“Whoa… um… wow,” I stutter.

“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” he chuckles, a wicked glint in his eyes. I shake my head. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, baby.”

I shudder when he says it and my hard cock, which is pressed against his groin, twitches in anticipation. I never called anyone ‘baby’ before, but it came out in the heat of the moment and he loved it. He didn’t hesitate to shoot the endearment back, and fuck me, I loved it too.

“What are you going to do?”

“Watch me,” he simply says.

So I do.

He presses kisses down the column of my throat, his soft curls tickling my chin, and then he flickers his tongue along my collar bones. It’s such a delicate feeling, and yet so incredibly erotic that I kind of go dizzy. However, I’m not left with any time to ponder as Charlie continues licking and kissing between my pecs, before sucking each of my nipples.

His gentle, delicate hands are stroking my sides, squeezing my paunchy love handles, but for once I don’t feel self-loathing; I feel adored. And when he nuzzles my tummy, playfully nibbling and kissing around my belly button.

“Go-o-od…” I can barely string words together but I start to wonder where he’s going. Is he going to blow me? “Uhh, Charlie…?”

“Just touching and kissing,” he promises, looking up before kissing over my belly button again. “Want me to come back up?”

I do and I don’t; what he’s doing feels incredible but I can feel myself on the edge of overwhelm. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, moving up my body, our bare chests and bellies sliding together.

“Sorry, I—”

“No S-word,” he whispers against my lips. “You’re much more comfortable giving than receiving aren’t you?”

Of course, it’s an astute observation, totally on point.

“I am.” I run my hands through his soft, dark curly hair, which releases wafts of his coconut and tropical fruity shampoo. “I guess when I’m giving pleasure, I can see if I’m doing it right or wrong. Yet when I’m receiving, if it’s not right I find it hard to say so as I don’t want to upset my partner.”

I suddenly worry that I’ve gotten too heavy about my feelings, way too early, but Charlie gives me a soft smile and nods.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he says. “I think it takes a lot of trust to allow yourself to enjoy sex in the moment.”

“But you let me…” I take a deep breath. “Did you trust me when I touched you?”

“I did,” he responds simply. “I don’t know you very well yet, but I trusted you implicitly when you were touching me.” He rubs his nose across mine. “Do you think you’re feeling overwhelmed because you’ve never been with a man before?”

“That and because I like you so much,” I admit. I pause for a beat deciding if I'd ruin everything by saying what I really feel.“I want this to work out, but at the same time I don’t want to force a relationship if it's just because I’m lonely and want a partner.”

Charlie rolls onto his side, and strokes his palm down my chest before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“I have an idea,” he murmurs into my ear before gently licking along its shell. “Turn the TV on.”

“Wh-what?”

“I think we should just watch some TV, just like this. I’ll lie with you, stroke and touch and maybe kiss you, and if you start to get close to coming, or if you want me to stop, you just say.”

I see where he’s coming from. A bit of distraction to get me out of my head. I reach for the remote on the coffee table and turn the telly on, and without thinking, click straight onto Netflix. However, I realise my automation and manage to choose a guest profile instead of my own so Charlie doesn’t judge my terrible TV taste.

“Is there anything you’re watching at the moment?” I ask him.

“Oh, uh, nothing in particular,” he mumbles, his hand pausing on my chest for a moment. “What about you?”

“Nothing in particular,” I echo. “I’ve been rewatching old Marvel films but something tells me that’s not your thing!”

“Haha, not really,” he admits. He gestures for the remote control and when I give it to him, he scrolls down a bit, stopping on the Top Ten.

“What about this?” he asks quietly. “Value For Money. Two hot guys in the picture, and it gives easy-viewing vibes.”

A little thrill goes through me. Watching Value For Money in the arms of this stunning guy. The very same guy I fantasised about while watching it on repeat? Yes please.

“Yeah, sure.” I try to sound nonchalant.

“Good, now turn onto your side, baby,” he tells me. “Relax against me.”

I do just that, and as the familiar opening credits roll, I loll my head against Charlie’s shoulder. He keeps stroking my chest and tummy, occasionally dropping kisses over my bare arm. I’m able to keep my eyes on the screen for a while but when Charlie starts to play with my nipple, idly tweaking and rubbing it, I lose all concentration.

“You like that, don’t you sweetheart?” he whispers. “You just melted into me a little.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand reaches further across me to get to my other nipple and I feel rushes of pleasure and arousal zip straight to my cock. Slowly, Charlie trails his fingers down my tummy and to the drawstring of my joggers.

“May I?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.

Charlie deftly undoes the strings while kissing my neck and soon his fingertips are grazing the waistband of my boxer briefs.

“Want me to touch you?” he checks.

“Yeah.”

Those fingers are hot against my skin as they creep past my waistband and make contact with my throbbing, rock-hard cock. Charlie grips it firmly, running his thumb over my wet tip.

“Well, hello!” Charlie’s tone is playful. “Glad to feel that you’re in proportion, baby. Wow.” He shifts further back and frees his lower arm, and then nudges me to lie on my back. “May I keep going?”

“Please.”

With an unholy grin, Charlie extends one leg over my hips and moves so he’s straddling my thighs, and then he resumes tugging, jerking and playing with my dick. My balls tighten at the sight of him on top of me like that, his lean, bare chest and almost-concave tummy exposed.

“So bloody gorgeous, Charlie. You are just…”

I’m distracted when he grins and licks his lip, because it’s so fucking hot that my cock swells and I ache with the need to climax.

“Will you tell me when you’re close?” he asks. “I want to see you come on my skin.”

“Oh fuck!”

Those words completely do it for me, and ropes of my come splatter Charlie’s tummy, chest and also his neck and chin as I shudder and convulse with the most explosive orgasm I’ve ever had.

“Well!”

“I-uh…”

Charlie shakes his head, which stops my stuttering. His beautiful olive skin flushes a dark pink as he wipes my release from his chin. He grins broadly, but then his smile fades as his eyes meet mine, replaced by a look of pure lust. He licks his lips and glances at his finger, then slowly, deliberately places it into his mouth.

“Hmm… delicious,” he moans. “You. Are. Delicious.”

“God Charlie…”

I run my hands up his thighs and can’t stop myself from cupping his arse and squeezing lightly.

“Nick!”

He comes forward, our bodies colliding as he crashes into my mouth. I can taste myself, salt and musk, as his tongue tangles with mine. I can feel my come between us, glueing us together, but I don’t care, and judging by the way Charlie is kissing me, he doesn’t either. I want to be glued to him. Maybe forever.

It’s probably too soon to think that way, but I can’t help it. I barely know Charlie but in my cosy cottage with him in my arms, with every kiss and touch, I actually feel like I’m home.

“This is intense, isn’t it?” Charlie whispers as he lets go of my lips to breathe deeply. “Please tell me you feel it too?”

“I do Char, so much,” I reply before kissing him, lightly this time. “Can you stay a little longer?”

“How long?”

“Stay forever,” Langston says on the TV, as he cups Freddie’s face.

Charlie turns to me and raises an eyebrow, before we both laugh.

“Maybe he has a point,” I murmur, cupping Charlie’s face. “But how about just lunch and maybe a little more making out this time?”

“Sounds like an awesome plan, sweetheart”, Charlie says, before resting his head against my chest.

-cXc-

Notes:

Im posting on my phone so apologies for any weird formatting.

Chapter 7: Chapter Seven

Summary:

Charlie can't stop smiling after his first proper date with Nick. Social media comes good for the boys, leading to an impromptu midweek date.

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading and recommending this story! And for the comments!

Of course, I couldn't have written this without the help of HanKitchman, my wonderful friend and beta for this story!

Chapter Seven

Charlie

I practically float into Oseman on Monday morning. Sasha, who I learnt is called ‘Sasha-the-Basher’ because she does roller derby on the weekends, jumps out from behind her desk when she sees me.

“OMG, Charlie!” she says with a grin. “Look at you! Glowing! Did you get some action or som’at?”

I’m getting used to the Yorkshire vernacular.

“I did happen to meet someone,” I admit. “He’s bloody gorgeous.”

“Ooh, lucky!” She looks at the clock on the wall in the lobby and shoos me away to the offices. “G’on, get workin’. I want all t’goss later!”

My good mood continues into the afternoon when I meet Darcy, James and Sahar for lunch. I have a piece of frittata leftover from lunch with Nick on Saturday, a synagogue bakery bagel via Green Gopher and a colourful salad. Darcy’s got leftover risotto for lunch, and our friends (I’ve made friends!) ooh and ahh over our delicious food. 

We’re about halfway through when Sasha joins us, carrying a Pot Noodle.

“You scored a yummy lunch and a yummy man?” Sasha says as she pokes at her noodles. “Great weekend for you, eh?”

“A yummy man, and you’ve only been here a few weeks?” Sahar says. “Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Details please!” adds James.

“His name is Nick. He’s a French teacher and a rugby player and so sweet,” I tell them. “I met him Green Gophering and he’s just… wow!” I mimic an explosion with her hands. “The chemistry is fire!”

“Nick?” replies Darcy, and I can see some of their cogwheels turning. “Not Nick Nelson?”

“Uh, yeah… how did you know?” I ask.

“Nick’s Tara’s bestie from teacher training,” they say.

Sasha places the back of her hand on her forehead. “Monsieur Nelson! Le Swoon! He taught me French at high school. All the girls and half the boys fancied him. I didn’t learn owt!”

“Shut up, you got top grades in almost everything,” Darcy retorts. Sasha laughs and shrugs. “Anyway, I’m very happy for you both. Tara will be too. I imagine that she’s wheedling the details out of Nick right now.”

“When are you seeing him next?” asks James.

“We have a date on Saturday,” I tell them. “A hike through the Meanwood Valley trail and a picnic.”

“Why wait until Saturday?” Sahar asks. She’s very get-up-and-go.

“He’s working a lot and I’m setting up my new flat,” I reply. “It’s good. After my horrible ex, and his, we’re taking it slow.”

I barely manage to get the sentence out without grinning to myself. I mean, the definition of ‘slow’ is pretty loose when it comes to Nick.

“I bet you cave and see each other midweek,” Darcy predicts. “You’ve got too much of a glow, and Nick has barely any game when it comes to someone he likes.”

I deny it, but when I get back to the Accounts department and am waiting for the machine to pour my coffee, I get a text from Nick.

Nick: How’s your day going? I’m STILL thinking about kissing you (and more!) xxx

Charlie: I’m marvellous. Dreaming about your perfect, sexy mouth xxx

N: You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? I have to go teach my GCSE class now!

C: You’re the one who brought up kissing (and more!) first.

C:<selfie of me pouting>

N: Christ, you’re so fucking hot. I’d better go before you turn me on even more. Can I call you tonight?

C: Yes, call me, sweetheart.

N: Later Char xxx

While I’m pouring milk into my Americano, I find myself scrolling Instagram.

@Immy_cheapthrills_UK: OMG, calling any A24 fans! This Wednesday, A24’s new movie BATTLESTATIONS is previewing in select theatres and you can get tickets for FREE! But be quick! When they’re gone, they’re gone. Link in bio! (Max 2 tickets per customer. Some theatres may be interviewing audience members) #ad #paidpartnership

I don’t even hesitate to go on the website. There’s just one screening in Leeds, at Hyde Park Picture House, which I know is a cute indie cinema not far from Leeds University. I book two tickets and then go to text Nick, only to find that he has just texted me.

N: Please, please tell me you’re free on Wednesday evening? I’ve just scored tickets to a free screening of Battlestations, the new A24 movie. I’d love to take you.

C: Great minds think alike, sweetheart. I’ve just booked tickets as well!

N: Haha! Great minds, indeed! How would you feel about meeting my best friend Tara and her wife?

C: You mean the enigmatic and rather unhinged Darcy Jones?

N: Wait, what? Yes, how do you know that?

C: <picture of Oseman PLC ID badge>

C: We were so distracted on Saturday that I never told you where I actually work…

N: That’s mad! OMG, Darcy wanted to set me up with her new colleague… they must have meant you!

C: Looks like the universe wants us to be together, baby

N: Oh God, when you call me baby…! <fire emoji>

N: See you Wednesday? Shall I pick you up at 7?

C: Perfect. So excited!

N: Me too Char, me too xxx

**** 

Nick

By the time I pick Charlie up for our cinema date, I’m practically vibrating with anticipation. We’ve been texting non stop since our date on Saturday and he’s just… wow. Funny, intelligent, sweet, flirty, and he just gets more utterly bloody wonderful every time we’re in contact.

When I pull up outside his flat, he’s already waiting for me, and gives me the cutest wave as he approaches the passenger door.

“Hi,” he murmurs as he slides into my car elegantly.

“Hi.” That’s all I can say because my throat is thick with lust and awe.

He’s wearing black skintight jeans, a bright pink long-sleeved t-shirt that rides up a little, revealing a tiny sliver of tanned, ripped tummy, and a charcoal, fleece-lined jacket. The car fills with the scent of his sweet and spicy aftershave and it’s so intoxicating it makes me a little dizzy.

Suddenly his lips are hot and wet against my cheek and I feel the heat ripple through my body.

“You look very handsome,” he murmurs, cupping my knee. “You suit blue.”

I look down at my slightly baggy blue jeans, navy t-shirt and blue, green and white checked shirt-jacket thing. I’m nowhere near as well dressed as him, but I blush at the compliment nevertheless.

“Thanks,” I croak, stroking the side of his face. “You look… gorgeous. Just gorgeous.”

I can’t help myself. I lean across the console and take his face in both my hands before kissing him. He lets out a moan from deep in his throat, then runs his fingers into the hair at the back of my head before probing his tongue past my lips.

“Mmm,” he mumbles as he pulls away. “If we keep doing that, we’re going to miss the movie.”

“Yeah, um, sorry.”

He taps me on the nose and my lips.

“No S word.” He sits back and clicks in his seat belt. “Never apologise for wanting to kiss me.”

Have I mentioned that Charlie is very, very cute?

“I pretty much want to kiss you all the time,” I confess as I pull away from the kerb. “I’m so happy we’re meeting up midweek.”

“Me too,” he replies. “How long will it take to get there?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes. Tara and Darcy decided to go for dinner before the movie so they’re meeting us there.”

I feel a pang within because I couldn’t take Charlie out for dinner as well, but unless he wants to split a Happy Meal, I just don’t have the budget.

“That’s cool,” Charlie says. “More alone time with you.”

“That is a great bonus,” I agree. “Are you much of a movie snacker? I wasn’t sure what you liked so I’ve brought sweet popcorn, salted tortilla chips and some chocolate buttons. Oh, and a flask of tea.”

Charlie laughs and produces two bottles of Corona 0% from the inside pockets of his jacket.

“These are my only contributions.”

“I love it.”

We stop at some lights and I steal a quick kiss which makes him grin, and my insides light up. It’s been a long time since I felt the new relationship flutters; Annie and I were together for twelve years. Even then, I don’t remember it being like this with her. 

I park the car on one of the side streets near Hyde Park Picture House and before Charlie can open his door, I rush around and open it for him.

“Such a gentleman,” Charlie sighs, and then wraps his arms around my neck. “Me, not so much…”

He presses himself against me and flicks his tongue against my jaw before pressing a constellation of tiny kisses on my face and neck. I take hold of his waist and pull him closer, relishing his heat against me. He continues kissing along my jaw, getting closer to my ear, and when he takes it between his teeth and gives it a little tug, I feel it right in my cock.

“God, Charlie…” I find myself pushing his body backwards against the car. Anything to help steady this feeling of romantic dizziness. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, rocking his groin into me. Just the brush of his denim on my denim sends shivers through me. “Soon.”

“In two hours and forty-five minutes?” I murmur.

“Not tonight.” He runs his long fingers into my floppy fringe. “When we finally make it to a bed, I want to be able to take our time.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly let go of him, pick up the bag of snacks from the back seat, and we walk hand-in-hand to the cinema.

Tara and Darcy are waiting for us in the cinema café-bar. When they see us come in holding hands, they both squeal.

“O.M.G! Too cute!” Tara exclaims. She then gives Charlie a big hug. “Lovely to finally meet you Charlie.”

“You too, Tara,” he replies, just a little shyly. “I love your sparkly Converse.” He points at his own. “Makes my black ones very dull in comparison.”

“You look great,” Tara says. She looks at us together and under her scrutiny, Charlie curls back into my side and takes my hand. “You look very together.”

“We are together,” I tell them before kissing Charlie’s temple.

“Boyfriends?” Darcy asks.

“Well, uh, ahh…” Charlie stutters. “I hope so eventually but…” He shrugs then looks at me.

“I hope so too. Eventually,” I tell him, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. I turn to Tara and Darcy. “We did only meet properly a week and a half ago.”

“We’re queer,” Darcy replies. “A week and a half in straight time is like three months in gay time.”

“Check back in a week or two, okay?” Charlie says. “I’ll let you know if Nick has been upgraded to boyfriend status.”

“What is he now?” Tara asks.

“Why, my hot arm candy, of course!” Charlie laughs, letting go of my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist, tapping my hip as he leans into me.

“Pot, kettle, very black, Char,” I say, kissing his temple.

--

We spend the first quarter of the movie holding hands, trading the snacks and sipping the beer, but then Charlie rests his head on my shoulder. I kiss the top of his head and a moment later, he’s lifting the armrest between us and leaning against my arm. I lift it so he’s against my chest and wrap it around him. He rewards me by trailing his fingers up and down my thigh and knee, occasionally feeding me tortilla chips or popcorn. It’s heaven. Simply heaven.

I jump when people start getting shot and blown up. I’m actually a real wimp when it comes to scary films so if I was paying for the tickets, I probably wouldn't have chosen this movie. I try not to let the violence affect me because I don’t want Charlie to think less of me, but he realises pretty quickly that I don’t like the blood and guts.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispers, turning his head a little. 

“Um, yeah, fine.”

But Charlie sits up and turns to face me.

“Come here.” He lifts his arm, just like I did before, and I turn into him before resting my head on his shoulder. He kisses my forehead. “Feel free to hide from the scary bits on me.”

I kiss the junction of his neck and shoulder and do exactly that. I spend most of the rest of the movie there, because it’s hard-hitting, with lots more bombs and guns. Charlie’s touch soothes me; he holds me close, gently stroking my back and kissing the top of my head.

At the end of the film, as the credits are rolling, a too-cool-for-school young guy wearing an A24 t-shirt walks onto the stage. 

“Thanks for attending this preview of Battlestations, everyone!” he calls out, and people clap. “Now, we are giving away vouchers for Pizza Passion in exchange for your opinion on camera. Just tell us what you thought about the movie and even if we don’t use your soundbite, a £20 voucher is yours!”

“We should do that,” Charlie murmurs into my ear. “I love the pizza at Double P.”

“’Double P?’” I can’t help but chuckle. “Is that a London-ism?”

“I thought everyone called it that?” He furrows his brow and the little wrinkle between his eyebrows. “What do you call it?”

“Just Pizza Passion,” I reply with a shrug. “But I might have to adopt ‘Double P.’”

“Well, I’m never calling it that again,” he says before kissing me.

“Whatever you guys call it,” begins Darcy. “I want me some pizza, so come on, let’s do those interviews.”

“Great!” replies Charlie, standing up and holding out his hand. “Nick, sweetheart, are you coming?”

“Sure.”

There is a teeny, tiny problem though.

All I can say about Battlestations is that it’s about war, guns and bombs. I did spend at least half the film with my face in Charlie’s shoulder after all. But Charlie’s so excited about Pizza Passion that I’m just going to have to make something up.

There’s only a few people lining up for the interviews; apparently most of the cinema-goers were happy for a free ticket but don’t want free pizza.

“Right then, are you lot all together?" asks the A24 guy, pointing at us.

“Yes,” replies Tara. She holds onto Darcy’s arm. “My spouse and I, and my best friend and his boyfriend.”  She winks at me and Charlie, who rubs my arm.

“Amazing, amazing,” he replies. “Let’s get a group interview and then the couples.”

“Sure,” says Darcy, striding to the giant poster and standing right in the centre of the shot. “Go for it.”

Thankfully, Tara and Darcy answer most of the questions, although Charlie chimes in too, something about the ‘intense cinematography.’

“Right, now the pairs.” The A24 guy points to Tara and Darcy. “Ladies first.”

“Hey,” Darcy replies indignantly. “Please don’t assume my gender. I do not appreciate being called ‘ladies’ when I am, in fact non-binary. My pronouns are she/they, not she/her.”

The guy goes beet red and starts spluttering an apology.

“I am so sorry, you’re right. I should not have assumed.” He reaches into his back pocket and gives Darcy a handful of vouchers. “Here. It’s the least I can do. I, uh…”

Darcy tucks the vouchers into Tara’s handbag then steps in front of the camera. “Roll the camera,” she says sternly. “Ask whatever you want.”

The A24 guy reads off his script, and when Tara and Darcy are done, calls Charlie and me over. As we pass Tara and Darcy, they give us a wink and a smirk.

“Okay now, may I just check your pronouns?” asks Mr A24 warily.

“He/him, for both of us,” Charlie replies, wrapping his arm around my waist. I take hold of his free hand. Time to make up some shit about this movie.

“So guys,” he begins, “how would you rate Battlestations as a date-night movie?”

“Oh, I’d rate Battlestations quite highly,” Charlie begins. “It’s exhilarating and engaging, but the surprise elements of the plot and the wider questions of how we as a society consider warfare and diplomacy are sure to make for excellent post-movie discussions.”

“And you?”

“I, uh…” I grip Charlie’s hand and turn towards him. He looks at me, bemused. Of course, he knows I watched him more than the film. “Totally agree with my gorgeous date here. I’m going to be thinking of this movie for days to come… Even if war movies aren’t your thing, you can hide from the intense bits in your man’s shoulder!”

Oh God, why did I say that? I bury my face in Charlie’s neck and groan. Charlie giggles and pats my back.

“Just like that!” he adds. “We loved it. Highly recommend, whether you’re on a date or with your mates!”

“That is gold!” The A24 guy exclaims. “I don’t think we need anything else from you. Thanks so much guys!”

He hands us a chunk of vouchers too, before gesturing to the next group.

Outside, Tara, Darcy, Charlie and I count the vouchers.

“We’ve got sixteen vouchers between us,” Tara says, giving eight to Charlie. She scrutinises the small print and grins. “It’s money off the whole bill, drinks too. Only the lunchtime special is excluded.”

“That’s brilliant!” Charlie exclaims.

“I know,” I agree. “You’re a good luck charm, Char.”

“You’re my good luck charm, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine and pecking my lips. “Double P for our next date night?”

“I can’t wait.”

-cXc-

Notes:

Thanks for reading!
I am currently staying in an Irish cottage in an orchard, about twenty miles from the nearest town, which is idyllic (and allows me to eat my body weight in fruit!) but the WIFI is not the best! I'm hoping to post on Sunday though.
BC xxx

Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

Summary:

The recently fired Harry Greene rears his ugly head. Friday Drinks turns into Friday Date Night.

Notes:

Thanks for reading and commenting!

I'm still on my trip through the wilds of Ireland; today I swam in the Atlantic Ocean, in beautiful turquoise crystal waters. I spent the rest of the day with sand in every crevice, but it was totally worth it!! Luckily the 4G is pretty strong here so I'm able to post tonight.

Big thanks to HanKitchman for the beta reading!

TW: Harry Greene being a dickhead.

Chapter Eight

Charlie

I can’t remember Thursday because I spent it reliving my amazing date with Nick Wednesday night. He is just so fucking cute. And hot. Cute-hot. Fuck-hot. Fuck-cute. Cute-fuck. Christ, I’m doing it again, getting lost in thoughts of Nick. 

When he dropped me home after the movie, he kissed me so deeply I almost passed out. His hands played with my curls and his thumbs stroked my cheeks. When I dipped my fingers under the collar of his t-shirt to feel the top of his chest, his thick, muscular, gently hairy chest, he moaned into my mouth. The sound was so filthy and needy I almost burst through my zip.

It’s now Friday and I’m vibrating with excitement for the weekend. I have a perfect evening planned. I’m going to Friday Drinks for one or two, then jumping on the bus back. When I get home, I plan to have my dinner, then watch Value For Money and apply a face mask so I’m all glowy in the morning for my picnic and hike with Nick. 

As the working day comes to an end, I’m about to get my jacket on when Sahar puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Stay put for a minute,” she murmurs. “Harry Greene is here for a meeting with HR and you don’t want his arseholey interrogation.”

“He’d interrogate me?”

“He likes to pick on new faces, like he’s eight and not thirty-eight, or however old he is.”

“He’s hardly in a position to bully me or anyone else when he’s been fired,” I retort.

“Oh trust me,” Sahar replies with bitterness, “that won’t stop him.”

“What’s he even doing here if he’s been fired?”

“Every Oseman employee has the right to appeal a termination or at least have it scrutinised by an independent third party.”

“What are the chances he’ll get the job back?”

“Not sure,” she says, a real trace of hurt in her voice. “I bloody hope not.”

“Did he say stuff to you?” I ask softly and she nods. “About what?”

“About being bi, about being a girl, about Muslims and terrorists, even though my family’s Coptic Christian, about my dog, being single…”

“Dicknozzle,” I mutter.

“Shit, he’s coming.” Sahar drops into the chair next to me and ducks down. “I cannot be arsed dealing with him today.”

“Oi, James!” a rough, laddish voice calls out. James lifts his head from one of the monitors, where he’s working on something with a newly qualified guy, Simon. “Hear you’ve stolen my gig.”

“I didn’t steal it, you threw it away,” James says nonchalantly before turning his eyes back to his screen.

I peer over the divider to see a tall, skinny guy with dirty blond hair greased up with about a ton of Brylcreem. Bloody hell, I can smell the stink of Lynx and knock-off Tom Ford aftershave from here.

“Watch it, gaylord,” Harry sneers like he's still in secondary school and that's the worst insult a gay person has ever had thrown at them. “They can’t get rid of me that easily, just wait and see. Couple of months and I’ll be right here, taking back my job.”

“Fine, see you then,” James replies, not looking up.

Harry looks like he’s about to punch James when a couple of HR people and a few others, including Darcy, walk out of one of the offices at the end. Harry sensibly decides to leave, lolloping down the corridor towards the lifts.

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter. “What an arsewipe.”

“Understatement of the fucking millennium,” Sahar agrees. “Let’s go to the bar.”

--

Darcy and a couple of the other department heads are already at the bar when we get there, and wave us over. There’s a bottle of tequila half empty and a bunch of empty shot glasses. Oh dear.

“Long week?” I ask, pointing at their drinks.

“Heyyy, we deserve this,” Darcy retorts, swaying slightly. “Fucking Harry. On a Friday too.”

“Why did you have to be there?”

“Company policy,” replies Angela, who I think is head of Advertising. “To make sure he is being treated fairly in disciplinary procedures and appeals, it's mandatory for other department heads to attend.”

“God, I’ve got such a headache,” Darcy mumbles, downing the last tequila shot.

“Don’t think the tequila’s going to help that, babe,” Sahar says. “Maybe you should do a Charlie for the next one and have a soda water.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Darcy agrees. “Thank God Tara’s coming to pick me up.”

Sahar and I go to the bar, but have to wait a little while as we’ve hit the after-work rush. Finally I get in front of the bartender who smiles and starts pouring soda water with pieces of lime and ice.

“Could you make it two please?” I ask. “My friend’s already half-gone.”

“No problem, darlin,’” the young, lanky guy says in a distinctly Essex accent. “I’m like you. Off the sauce.”

“You mean these aren’t really G&Ts?” I reply with a chuckle.

“Haha, you’re cute,” he says, and suddenly I realise that he’s flirting with me and thinks I’m flirting too…

“He’s very cute,” a silky-smooth voice murmurs behind me, before strong hands encircle my waist. “Please could you do another two of those?”

I turn and squeal when I realise it’s Nick, before throwing my arms around him.

“Hi!”

“Hi!” He kisses the side of my mouth. “How are you tonight, my gorgeous Char?”

“Surprised and bloody delighted that you’re here,” I tell him. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I hitched a ride into town with Tara,” he says, pointing at the table where Tara is sitting on Darcy’s lap, stroking their face. “Apparently Darcy’s had a tough afternoon. Tara wants to take her home before she gets shitfaced… and I wanted to see you.”

“God you’re adorable,” I reply. “Maybe we could take her to the Double P in Chapel Allerton and use our vouchers,” I suggest. “Pizza makes everything better.”

“So do you,” Nick whispers, running his nose along my cheek. “I missed you,” he whispers in my ear, and I swear I'm about to melt from the heat that runs through me.

“Ahem,” says the bartender, suddenly sounding a lot less cheery than he did a minute ago. “Four soda waters with lime.”

“Thanks,” I say, passing two to Nick to carry.

We make it back to the table, set the drinks down and then I take Nick’s hand.

“I missed you too, by the way.”

He grins, leans forward and steals a kiss.

--

By the time we get to Pizza Passion, it’s heaving, but a table of four becomes free and we manage to nab it. We did invite Sahar and James but they both had plans; Sahar is taking Joshi to her neighbour’s house for a doggy playdate, while James has an actual date with an actual boy.

“I need their cheese garlic bread like I need air!” Darcy exclaims. “And a lemon San Pellegrino. Oh, and a triple pepperoni with hot honey.”

“What do you like on your pizza, Char?” Nick asks me. “I’m happy to share a couple of different ones.”

“I like the fennel salami, potato and mushroom special, with the cream sauce base,” I say. “I know it sounds weird.”

“No,” Nick says. “What’s not to like? Salami, yum, potato, yum, mushroom, cheese, cream sauce… yum yum yum.”

“You are seriously making me want to kiss you,” I laugh. “What do you like?”

“I’m pretty basic generally,” he replies. “Tonight I feel like double cheese, tomato base, pepperoni, sausage and peppers.”

“Yum yum yum.” I lean in and kiss his cheek before taking hold of his hand under the table. “I’ll try yours if you try mine.”

“Are we still talking about pizza, Charlie?” Nick murmurs.

I lean into him and whisper into his ear. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His cheeks go so red I feel their heat even though our skin isn’t touching.

“Jesus, you two really need to shag!” Darcy exclaims. “The sex pheromones are making the whole restaurant horny, kids!”

“Darcy!” Tara slaps her wife on her shoulder. “You are not quiet, love!”

Nick takes my hand and kisses it before bringing it into his lap. With his free hand, he takes out his phone and starts texting one-handed. A moment later, my phone buzzes.

N: I do want to… with you, you know I do, but I’m just loving spending time with you like this.

C: There is no rush, sweetheart. I love spending time with you like this. Getting to know you.

C: But don’t get me wrong, when we do end up in bed, it’s going to be epic.

Nick snorts and quickly sends me another text.

N: I think it’s going to be life changing.

And then he kisses my cheek.

--

The food is delicious, probably more so because Nick feeds me bites of his pizza, while I feed him pieces of mine. Tara and Darcy are doing the same thing, feeding each other cheesy garlic bread, triple pepperoni, and artichoke and spinach pizza.

“Feeling better, Darcy?” Nick asks when they refuse the last piece of garlic bread.

“Yes, much,” she replies, patting her tummy. She slings an arm around Tara’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t let him get to me.”

“Who?” asked Nick. “Oh, if it’s a line management thing you probably can’t say.”

“No,” Darcy admits. “Ugh, the guy in question is such a dickhead.”

“Massive dickhead,” I agree. “I had the displeasure of seeing the guy come in and be an arse to James.”

“Oh.” Nick’s face is overcome with recognition. “It was Harry, wasn’t it?”

“You know him?” I turn towards Nick and he nods, his lovely mouth downturned. “How?”

“University rugby,” he replies. “And he was on my local team until two years ago.”

“What happened two years ago?”

“Our team had a bad run,” Nick explained. “Injuries, change of coach and a couple of good guys moving meant we dropped down the league.”

“I remember this,” Tara says. “Harry abandoned the team and joined a ‘better’ one.”

“Yup,” Nick agreed. “Though, to be fair, we were happy to see the back of—”

“Fuck,” Darcy interjects. “Guess who’s coming this way.”

Nick turns slightly and groans, so of course I turn too. Yep. It’s Harry fucking Greene.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Nicholas Nelson,” Harry says, slapping Nick’s shoulder. Nick flinches and I feel rage start to rise up within me. “Heard you dropped the Silvers too. Bloody good decision. They got a new coach. A girl,” he scoffs.

“Get lost, Greene,” Tara says. “Girls can be great coaches, and I hear that the Silvers are doing very well.”

“Well then, maybe it’s because Nick left,” Harry chortles.

“I didn’t leave,” Nick states, his whole body rigid. “I’m sitting this year out to concentrate on other things.”

“You don’t have to explain, Nick,” I murmur. “You don’t owe him or anyone else that.”

Harry turns to me, gives me a onceover and then chuckles.

“Who’s this, Nelson?” he scoffs. “Your new pet chihuahua?” But then he sees Nick’s hand on my thigh and the way we’re sitting close and his eyes go wide. “Oh, I see. Couldn’t hold onto a woman so you’re trying boys.”

“Harry,” Nick says in a warning tone.

“Oh c’mon mate, it's just banter!” Harry says dismissively. “Your missus was well fit though. If the size of her tits weren't enough to stop you being bent then—"

I’m on my feet in a split-second and in his face.

“Piss off! Leave Nick alone, leave all of us the fuck alone,” I tell him. “His bisexuality is beautiful and he’s the kindest person I know. You’re just bitter because you’ve been fired and the Silvers are doing better because you left.”

I don’t actually know that for sure, but I don’t care. Behind us the other restaurant patrons laugh a little awkwardly, and Harry stares dumbly at me, while I sit back down and focus on Nick.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have made a scene,” I mumble to him. “I just couldn’t stand him being mean to you. Biphobic prick.”

“Are you kidding?” Nick grins and then cups my face. “Nobody but Tara and Darcy has ever stood up for me like that before. It was the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Then all those people before didn’t deserve you,” I reply, before kissing him gently. “I’d fight anyone who was mean to you.”

“Yeah, meanie!” shouts a little kid at the next table, pointing at Harry. “Piss off!”

“Oops, I’ve created a monster!”

“A very astute monster!”

Nick and I laugh and he kisses me once more.

**** 

Nick

It’s getting impossible not to fall head over heels with Charlie, who is sweet, kind, hot, intelligent and, it turns out, fiercely loyal. When he stands up to Harry Greene for me, my heart just glows. I have got it bad. So bad.

“Do you want any dessert?” he asks. “I’m full but you should have some… if you want.”

“No thank you,” I say. “I still need to get home and prep our picnic for tomorrow.”

“What are we having?”

He licks his lips as he speaks, just missing a speck of tomato at the corner of his mouth. So of course, I help him, rubbing my thumb across his lips. His tongue darts out and catches my digit which makes me stop. He grins and kisses the pad of my thumb before looking up at me with his big blue eyes. A gaze that goes straight to my cock.

“It’s a surprise,” I croak. I can’t even think right now.

“Uh guys,” Tara begins. Charlie and I look over at her and Darcy. “We need to get the bill. ASAP.”

“Why?”

“Because your sexual chemistry has ignited ours and I would really like to go home and make love to my spouse,” Tara replies. “Come on, I’ll drop you guys home.”

“Did you want to stop at mine for a cup of tea?” Charlie sits back a little in his chair. “I managed to get some of the good stuff,” he adds with a cheeky grin,. “Yorkshire Gold.”

“Fancy!” I laugh.

“He stole it from work!” Darcy chuckles.

“You stole it for me?”

“Steal is a strong word,” Charlie replies, “but yeah, I might have taken a couple of tea bags for you.”

“Let’s go,” I say, desperate to be alone with him. 

--

We pay the bill using four of our vouchers, which means we spend a grand total of £5 each including tip, and seven minutes later, Tara drops me and Charlie off outside his flat, and he leads me upstairs by the hand.

The flat is a small two-bed, with a cosy open plan kitchen and living area. Charlie has managed to make the place look cute and comfy with a yellow throw over the plain grey sofa, a MUSIC sign over the mantelpiece and bookshelves organised by colour.

“So…” he begins as he walks into the corner kitchen. “Yorkshire Gold, or did you want a cold drink?”

He turns to look at me over his shoulder, blue eyes twinkling under the spotlight, and fuck, I want him so much. He must see it in my eyes because his smile flickers and drops, and he stares back so intently. I take advantage of the moment and stride over to him, spin him around so he’s facing me and lift him up onto the counter. He's so light, and feels perfect in my grip.

“Just you, Char. I just want you.”

“Nick…”

I take his face in my two hands, rub my thumb over his soft lips and then tilt my head. He thrusts forward to meet my mouth, locking his legs around my arse as we kiss. He tastes sweet, but with a hint of basil and garlic from our pizza; he’s so incredibly moreish. His hands travel up and down my back, teasing the top of my crack before moving back up my spine and stroking the nape of my neck.

It's getting really hot between us and I’m starting to sweat, so I throw off my overshirt, leaving me in a t-shirt.

“Mine,” he mumbles. “Take mine off.”

“Are you sure?” I check. He was a little hesitant about being topless last time.

“Hmm, yeah.”

He raises his arms and I pull off his top, and then we kiss again. And again. I’m starting to feel dizzy as the blood leaves my brain and heads south. I can’t help but roll my groin against him and he moans, holding me tight and rocking into me; and oh my God, he’s as hard as I am.

I scoop my hands under him and give his gorgeous arse cheeks a good squeeze; they’re firm and fleshy but perfectly rounded in my hands. He smells so fucking sexy, that shampoo will be the death of me… I just want to taste him, eat him up.

“Sofa,” he mumbles against my lips. “Lie on top of me.”

“Yeah.” I manage to pant back, before picking him up, legs still wrapped around my waist, arms still embracing my neck, mouth still fervently caressing my own.

He’s light yet strong in my arms as I carry him to the sofa. I put him down on his back and he tugs me by the belt so I inelegantly fall onto him. There's a moment where we giggle at this, and then we resume kissing. His slender fingers caress my arms, squeezing and stroking, while I slip my hand between his thighs, not yet touching his crotch, but just feeling his beautiful firm body under his trousers.

“Slow is definitely out of the water isn’t it?” he asks breathlessly as I start to kiss down his chin and neck. 

He has some faint scars on his upper arms. One day he’ll tell me where they’re from and I’ll hold him close, support him however he needs. Right now though? They’re the least important thing about him. 

“Tell me to stop,” I mumble back, my words vibrating against his skin, “and I will.”

“Don’t you dare stop!” he cries, anchoring one hand in my hair. “I want you so much Nick.”

“I want you, gorgeous Charlie, my sweet Char… you are so fucking hot, and kind and gentle and clever and worldly and… whoever let you go was so bloody stupid, darling…”

I realise I’m rambling. Honestly, I’m so overcome by what's happening, that something has to come out of me. At this point I'm thankful it's words, as otherwise, I think I'd be shooting my load too soon. 

“You mean that, don’t you?” Charlie murmurs in a soft purr as I suck at his slender neck. His skin feels like pure velvet there… mmm. He’s stroking my neck, running his thumb along my hairline so softly, which makes me shiver and tingle.

“Of course I do,” I mumble into his skin. “I’ve been so happy since we met. How could I not be? I wish I could give you the world but I can only give you me right now.”

“Nick,” he breathes, and moves his hand to lift my chin. “I think you might just be the only world I need, sweetheart.”

And that is the moment, as our lips softly join, that I realise that I’m very much at risk of falling in love with Charlie Spring. Actually, I think I’m there already.

--

We must just stare at each other for a full minute, communicating without the need for words. and I don’t know how or why, but I just feel that Charlie feels the same, that what we have is special. It doesn’t matter that it’s only been a few days since we met properly. The connection was instant, the spark ferocious, the care and desire all-encompassing.

“I know we’ve been trying to go slow, Char,” I whisper, as if in prayer, “but I feel like I’m fighting against my instincts. I can’t stay away from you.”

“I can’t stay away from you either,” he whispers back, stroking my floppy fringe away from my face. His movement is so gentle, but it feels like sparks are fizzing as his fingertips touch me. “Nick please, let’s go to bed.”

I sit back on my haunches and pull him up towards me so our chests are flush, and then kiss him gently.

“Yeah.”

I stand up and then haul him over my shoulder fireman style. I give Charlie’s round bum a pat-pat as I stride to the bedroom. He squeals and giggles and squirms, but as soon I throw him on the bed he stops with a gasp. I watch as he bites his lip, then starts to unbutton his trousers.

“When did you realise you were bi?” he asks as he eases his trousers down his hips, revealing the hottest, most perfect hipbone V I’ve ever seen.

“University,” I reply, my eyes fixed on his slender thighs. “One of the guys on my course… I had the biggest crush but didn’t know how to approach him. He had a girlfriend so it was a good thing I didn’t. I didn’t come out until teacher training, when I met Tara and Darcy.”

“I want you to enjoy this, sweetheart,” Charlie states, his voice sweet and gentle and warm. “What do you think you’ll prefer, top or bottom?”

“Top, bottom or sides,” I tell him. “Whatever you want. I’ve never done anything with a guy except what we did last Saturday.”

“I want…” He grins wickedly. “Top, bottom and sides. Everything, baby.”

When he calls me ‘baby’ my cock threatens to break my fly; it’s so… huh. My skin feels like it’s on fire. And he knows it. His body is so sexy. Long limbs, a slender but defined torso, and the most alluring olive complexion. I want to worship every inch of it. I kneel at his feet, pull off his socks, and then pull his trousers off, leaving him in just his tight black briefs that strain to contain his erection.

“These too?” he asks, fingering their waistband. I shake my head. “No? Not yet?”

“Yeah.”

I undo my belt and push my jeans to the floor before toeing off my socks.

“Fuck me…” Charlie mumbles, his eyes impossibly wide and pupils huge. “Your body is insane.”

“Good insane?”

“Oh yeah,” Charlie says, palming his cock. “Get over here.”

I don’t hesitate, climbing on top of him and then kissing him deeply. His hands slide down my back and under the waistband of my boxers, teasing the cleft of my arse and squeezing my cheeks alternately.

“God, Char, feels amazing. I can’t wait to be inside you and have you in me and…”

Charlie suddenly lets go of me and props himself up on his elbows.

“Oh shit,” he mutters.

“What, love?”

“I don’t have any condoms or lube,” he says with a groan. “I forgot to buy any, even after our date last weekend. I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, hey, no sorries,” I reply, kissing the side of his mouth. “We don’t need it, Char,” I tell him. “We have mouths and hands and imagination.”

He giggles and pouts at me for a kiss.

“Imagination?” His voice goes husky. “Where does your imagination take us, baby?”

“Let me show you.”

I kneel up, scoop my arms under his shoulders and move him higher up the bed, and then get to work, exploring his lean body with my fingers, dancing them along his tanned olive skin. I linger at his small, brown nipples, which causes him to writhe under me, and then trace his breastbone, the faint lines of his abdomen, the tease of a six pack under a thin layer of soft, smooth skin.

Soon I’m circling his belly button, using both hands to explore lower, until I’m stroking up and down those hipbone Vs.

“Nick, please,” he mumbles as he squirms. “Touch me. Touch me.”

I ghost my palm over his cock. “Here?”

“Yes! Yes!”

I slowly pull off his briefs and his gorgeous cock springs out. Seriously, it’s perfectly straight and thick, dripping pre-come from a shiny, engorged head. I spit on my hand and use his leakage to take him in hand and pump him slowly. He looks so fucking beautiful, gasping and moaning as he gets closer to the edge.

I dip my head down and lick his tip.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he cries. “More, please, Nick.”

I’ve always loved giving oral. There’s a sort of calmness in it; it takes all your focus to breathe, and then you’re surrounded by your partner entirely. I’ve never had a cock before, but it turns out I enjoy it even more than cunnilingus. Charlie tastes sweet, like his mouth, and a bit salty too, like my favourite popcorn. Although, I've never enjoyed popcorn quite as much as this.

Charlie’s moans and whimpers suggest he’s enjoying my mouth a whole lot. One glance at him through my eyelashes shows the most heavenly sight. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, that sexy mouth slightly open in a pout of breathless euphoria. Something tells me he isn’t going to last much longer. I cup and tug his balls, stroke behind them and suck hard.

“Nick, shit, I’m gonna come any sec, sweetheart!”

“Good,” I mumble around his magnificent cock, and reach for his hand. He links his fingers with mine, and then caresses the back of my hand, encouraging me.

“Nick, Nick…”

I suck once more and he cries, spilling down my throat, coating my tongue with tangy, salty come. I hadn't expected to like the taste so much, but I devour every beautiful drop. I let go of him with a pop and then lie next to him on my side, listening to Charlie’s shallow breaths.

“That was amazing,” I murmur, kissing his forehead. It's slightly salty-tasting from a sheen of sweat.

“Yeah…”

He pulls me towards him, and kisses my mouth ferociously, then suddenly flips me onto my back. He straddles my hips and rubs his perfect arse along my straining cock.

“Your turn, baby.”

-cXc-

Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

Summary:

It's Nick's turn to receive as things continue to get spicy after the boys' pizza date. Nick and Charlie plan to continue the spicy activities all weekend, but alas, their plans are interrupted by the arrival of a certain fierce creature.

Notes:

You folx!! I love how much you love this N&C already. Your comments are so lovely. Please don't be offended that I don't reply much. I appreciate every single one, but in the time it takes for me to respond, I could write a chapter or three...

Big love to HanKitchman for the beta, and for Claire (Infinite Reads), my jetsetting friend; this story is a gift for her!

Chapter Nine

Charlie

“Your turn, baby.”

Nick licks his lips and blows out a long, warm breath as I rock back against him, his hard cock fitting perfectly between my arse cheeks, making my hole tingle with the friction.

“Yes, Char,” he rasps. “You feel so good.”

“Want to come like this? Me rocking on top of you?” I lean down so our chests press together, and whisper in his ear, “Do you want to come on my arse?”

“God, Charlie, yes!” He mouths my shoulder and cups my bare arse. “Your arse is so fucking hot.”

“You say that a lot!” I laugh.

“It’s the truth,” he replies, more softly. “You’re amazing, love.”

I know it’s a Northern thing he’s adopted, but the way he says ‘love,’ like he could actually love me one day… It makes my heart sing. I’m already there, in case it wasn’t obvious.

I love him already. I think it might have been love the moment he said ‘hi’ outside Bonnie’s Bakery.

“Let’s get these pesky boxers off you, eh?” I murmur.

He protests for the moment I am off his body, but quietens when I yank off his boxers. When I settle back on top of him, he smiles broadly. I'm acutely aware that this is the first time Nick has done this with a man, and I want it to be good for him. There’s already enough lubrication from his pre-come, but I spit on my hands a couple of times anyway, and then caress his thick, long, pale cock, making it wet.

“Char, I’m close.”

“I know,” I tell him. “Can you talk to me, baby? I loved that last time.”

I start to move, sliding back and forth along his length, and reach back to play with his balls.

“You’re so flexible, and your arse is so hot and warm,” he babbles. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? I can’t wait for us to be joined, full of each other’s cocks. That’s going to- oh Char!”

I grind down on him, squeezing my arse around his pole. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open, and then he’s convulsing under me, bucking his hips as he comes, spurting hot, white, creamy ropes between us, which makes me slide backwards a little. Nick grabs my hips and I lean forward, kissing him softly before pressing my mouth to his neck. He tastes fresh and clean, of laundry and lemons.

“You are the amazing one, Nick Nelson,” I whisper as I lick and suck his skin.

His big arms wrap around me, enclosing me with his warmth, and when I rest my head on his shoulder, he kisses my forehead.

--

We doze for a little while, but eventually the feeling of crusting come and the need to pee has to be dealt with. Gently, I peel myself off Nick and sit up on the bed.

“Um…” he begins, sitting up too, so we are facing each other, cross-legged. “Do you want me to go?”

“Do you want to go?” I ask, suddenly afraid that, after all the connection between us, he’s done.

“No!” he cries, grabbing my hands. “But I also don’t want to encroach on your space if you need some alone time, or you don’t like sleeping with someone else in the bed.”

I unravel my legs, scoot forward and wrap them around his hips. He immediately locks his hands around my waist.

“You know what I want?” I whisper, leaning so I’m speaking against his lips. “I want to get clean, change these sheets and then go to sleep with you… naked.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he murmurs with a smile. “Did I spot a walk-in shower in your bathroom?”

“You did,” I reply. Sadly there’s no bathtub; that would be fun too. “Want to get clean together?”

“You have the greatest ideas, Char.”

--

As you can imagine, we are pretty handsy in the shower, with mutual hand jobs being part of our cleanup. I have decided that Nick’s come face is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Afterwards, he helps me change the sheets. Then we make tea and take it back to bed with us.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow, love?” Nick asks, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “I’m at 10%.”

“Sure, there’s a spare one in the top drawer,” I tell him, pointing to a chest. “And it’s got a long lead so you can still play on your phone while you’re in bed.”

“All I’m just planning to do is check my messages and then I’m all yours,” he says, retrieving the charger and plugging it in behind the nightstand. “I don’t want to miss a call or text from my mum.”

“Sounds like you’re close to her,” I say, plugging my own phone into its charger.

“After my dad left when my brother and I were little,” Nick replies, “she raised us alone while working full time.”

“Do you see him? Your dad, I mean?”

“Not often,” Nick replies. “ Il habite à Paris.”

I don’t think Nick realises he’s spoken in French. Maybe it’s a reflex when he thinks of his dad.

“And your brother?”

“Christmas and Mum’s birthday only.” Nick sighs. “We don’t really get along. He’s a homophobic, biphobic bully.”

“Oh sweetheart” I open my arms up and he curls into me. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses my cheek. “Even Mum has made peace with the fact that David and I aren’t close.”

“Is she still in Kent?”

“Yeah, she works for the NHS as a manager, but is retiring next year.” His big, strong arm comes over my shoulder and he pulls me into him. “What about your parents? And your brother and sister?”

“My mum and I don’t always get on great. She’s the OG definition of a ‘helicopter parent,’ especially when I came out as gay. Dad’s fine, just kind of goes along with Mum though.”

“She’s anxious, so it makes you anxious?”

“Exactly.” Another kiss, this time at my temple. “My sister Tori is one of my best friends though, and Olly is pure sunshine.”

“Your siblings sound so cool.” His face is overcome with a grin. “David’s your average City finance bro.”

“What, like me?” I laugh, but inside I’m worried he thinks I’m dull too.

“There is nothing average about you Char,” he says seriously, stroking a finger along my cheek. “Not a goddamn thing.”

I lean in to kiss him. I just can’t get over how cute he is.

“I don’t think I can go again so soon,” I whisper. “Is just kissing okay?”

“Just sleeping is okay if you want,” Nick says. He rubs his thumb under my eyes. “Your eyelids are starting to droop, my gorgeous Charlie.”

“I know,” I say as the tiredness starts to cloud over my brain. “I just need to check my messages too, and then sleep.”

“Okay.”

I reach for my phone and Nick does the same. I have a couple of messages from Tao, Elle and Isaac, my best friends in London, a GIF from Darcy of two unicorns saying ‘horny beasts’ and a short video from Olly, of him playing basketball and putting a ball through the hoop. Then there’s a message from Tori. 

Tori: Coming your way Sat AM.

In all the drama of starting a new job, finding a flat and meeting Nick, I had forgotten that Tori was visiting next weekend. I wonder fleetingly what she’ll think of Nick. I reply with a thumb’s up, then I glance over at him. He is still texting someone, so I open Instagram and the first post on my feed is one from Immy Cheap Thrills.

@Immy_CheapthrillsUK: So many of you have been enjoying BATTLESTATION and the Pizza Passion vouchers A24 have been giving out in exchange for reviews. Well, here’s another bargain for you! When you buy two 450g tubs of Geyser Co’s Fat Free Lemon or Mango Yoghurt, you can get up to 50% off on hotel stays with AOP Hotels, including weekends! And you can enter a competition for a luxury break at AOP’s 5* Plas Dawydd Hotel in Anglesey! *Ts&Cs apply. #ad #paidpartnership.

That’s my favourite brand of yoghurt; If I could afford it, I would have it most days for breakfast. I don’t think I’ll be able to afford an AOP hotel stay, even with 50% off, but I save the post anyway and click my phone off.

“How’s your mum?” I ask Nick as he puts his phone down on the side table.

“Brilliant,” Nick replies. “In fact, she’s coming to visit next weekend, and she cannot wait to meet you.”

Fear suddenly grips me. What if she thinks I’m not good enough for her son? I mean, I’m a washed up accountant who’s almost bankrupt while he’s this wonderful, beautiful man with a heart the size of the ocean.

“Oh,” is all I manage to mumble.

“Hey, if it’s too soon, that’s okay,” Nick says urgently, cupping my face. “I guess I got a bit overexcited because I like you so much already.”

There's a moment's pause while my brain catches up with what Nick just said. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, rubbing my nose with his and pecking me softly. “I tend to be all-in when I like someone, so please tell me to back off or chill out if I’m too much.”

He looks so bloody sweet that I launch myself on top of him and kiss him deeply, stroking my tongue against his. Now he smells of my shower gel and possessiveness takes over. He’s mine now, no matter what.

“You are never too much, you’re perfect,” I tell him. “I like that you have no chill, and I want to be all-in.” I rub his chin with my thumb. “I’m just scared that your mum won’t like me.”

“Haha, she’ll adore you. She likes everybody, until they make me unhappy.”

“Was she the same with Annie?”

“Yep, they got on well until Annie got het up about her looks and started getting into Botox and stuff. Mum is very no-nonsense and thought Annie was poisoning herself for no good reason.”

“What did Annie do before the whole ‘fitfluencer’ thing?”

“She was a teacher for a while, then she retrained as a physiotherapist,” Nick says. “She wasn’t the most dedicated though. I don’t think she liked working with sick people.”

“Kind of a necessary thing for a physio, surely?”

“Well yeah!”

We both chuckle, and I find myself yawning.

“I think I need sleep, babe.”

“Hmm, yeah,” he whispers into my hair. “You need to rest up for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” A slew of deliciously dirty thoughts flood my sleepy brain, making me forget to tell him that Tori’s coming next weekend too.

“For our hike, Char!” he chuckles. “Why, what did you think I meant?”

--

I wake up alone in the bed, the duvet tucked around me. My ears are freezing though. I open one eye and see that it is absolutely pissing it down, with a howling wind that makes the windows shake.

“Nick?” I call out, but then I see that his clothes and phone are gone. “What the hell?” Maybe he is a one-and-done after all.

Tears start to prick at the back of my eyes, but then my phone lights up.

N: Good morning, gorgeous Charlie! My stupid body clock means that I’m up at 6.30 ☹

N: Hopefully I’ll be back before you wake up, but if you are reading this, please don’t go anywhere. I’ve nipped back to mine to get a change of clothes and some other supplies. Then I’m coming right back to you, love.

N: Obviously our hike is off unless you like getting soaked through. I for one am a fair weather hiker!

N: I’ll also bring back breakfast. If you do see this, text me any requests, but otherwise I’m bringing yoghurt, fruit and some of those long-life croissants I have at the back of the cupboard.

N: Unless you’d rather I didn’t come back. Just let me know, Char, because unless you tell me otherwise, I want to spend the weekend with you.

N: See you soon, love.

Oh, phew, he’s coming back! With supplies! I hope that means what I think it means. I get up, put on a pair of trackies and a hoodie, and go to the kitchen to make coffee. About ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in, baby! I’ve put the kettle on for your tea.”

“’Baby?’ Bleugh!”

I whirl around, because that’s not Nick’s voice. It’s my sister’s.

**** 

Nick

Charlie is a cuddly sleeper, and I’m here for it. I wake up with him wrapped around me, head on my chest so his soft curls tickle my chin, his lean legs tangled between mine and his arm tucked under my shoulder.

I can’t resist softly stroking his hair and the back of his neck, but I don’t want to wake him, so I do it gently.

“Mmmf,” he mumbles, and snuggles in a bit closer.

My heart leaps in my chest, doubly so when his sweeping eyelashes tickle my bare chest. I let my hand drift down his back and kiss his forehead, then close my eyes, but two minutes later, my clearly homophobic bladder starts to remind me it exists.

As gently as I can manage, I roll Charlie onto his back and untangle myself from him. He screws up his closed eyes, but relaxes again when I cover him with the thick duvet and tuck him in.

After I pee, I contemplate how nice it would be to surprise him with breakfast so, once I'm finished, quickly get dressed and dash back to my place.

And I have to run because as soon as I step outside Charlie’s block of flats, it starts to piss it down with rain. By the time I get back to my cottage ten minutes later, I am completely soaked through. I brush my teeth, take a lightning quick shower and change into a t-shirt, hoodie and trackies. Just in case it stops raining long enough to go out, I grab some jeans, another t-shirt and a spare pair of boxers, my toothbrush and a deodorant stick.

I also remember to pack the condoms Tara gave me the day my divorce was finalised, a new bottle of lube and some massage oil I found in the back of the bathroom cupboard. Seeing Charlie come yesterday was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and I plan to do it again and again.

I quickly text him so that he knows I haven’t just run off and left him, then pull together some breakfast things. I’m not sure if Charlie’s into big cooked breakfasts, so I stick with fruit, yoghurt and croissants.

Not wanting to waste a moment, I throw everything into the car and drive back to Charlie’s. Parked outside his building is a pristine, shiny black Citroen 2CV with a small trailer attached.

“Wow, whoever drives that is a character,” I say out loud, admiring the car’s curved shape. Maybe it’s because I’m half-French but I’ve always thought 2CVs are way cooler than VW Beetles; people say they look the same, but hell no!

I climb the stairs to Charlie’s flat, and am about to knock on the door, when I hear a grumpy sounding female voice from within.

“I said I’d be here Saturday AM, and hello! It’s Saturday AM!”

“Next Saturday!” Charlie shouts. “You were supposed to come next Saturday!”

“Nope.” The girl’s voice is clear and cutting, and I realise that this must be Charlie’s sister Tori. “You look freshly fucked. God, please tell me you aren’t back with Ben again!”

“God, no!” Charlie cries. “Ugh. I didn’t even tell that fuckwit I’d left London.”

“So why do you look like that?”

“I might have met someone…” Charlie’s tone is a little coy, and it’s so cute. “In fact, my delicious new man is coming over with breakfast.”

“Hence calling out ‘baby, I’ve put the kettle on for your tea!’ Seriously? Baby?”

“He’s fucking adorable, Tor,” Charlie says. “And I planned to spend the day doing things to him that would make your asexual brain shrivel in disgust.”

“Ew,” is Tori’s succinct response.

Me on the other hand? I turn into a puddle of goo. Charlie called me ‘adorable’ and ‘delicious.’ Well, not all of me is goo. Charlie and I are on the same page about what we wanted to do today and the thought of it is making one particular part of me incredibly not-goo. It sends shivers down my spine.

“What time did you leave Bristol this morning?” Charlie asks softly.

“I stopped off in Lichfield to crash at Becky’s last night,” Tori replies. “I was on the road at five because she’s working an early shift today.” She pauses. “Sorry I disrupted your sex sleepover.”

“Oh Tori, no. I’m sorry.” There’s the sound of rustling and I guess they’re hugging. “My horny self is just pouting because honestly, I haven’t had this much chemistry with a guy like, ever.”

“Ew,” is the reply, but it doesn't sound as disgusted as before.

“ And Nick’s so lovely too,” Charlie continues.. “Kind, gentle, honest and full of love to give.”

“What does he do?”

“French teacher at a local secondary school, and he teaches some PE as well,” Charlie says, and his voice is full of pride. “He, uh, is a rugby player. Big and strong.”

“Ahh,” Tori says, sounding smug. “No wonder you’re smitten… He’s a sweet, gentle, kind, big and strong rugby player. If he had freckles too, he’d be 100% your idea of VFM.”

“He’s got freckles everywhere…” Charlie sighs. “He’s so fucking VFM he takes my breath away.”

I’m VFM? Charlie thinks I’m value for money? I take his breath away? He looks like a model, is more intelligent than Einstein and kinder than even my mum, and yet, he thinks that highly of me. God, how did I get so fucking lucky?

“When’s he coming back?”

“Any minute now,” Charlie replies. “In fact, let me text him…”

Suddenly I realise I’ve been eavesdropping like a total freak and knock on the door before Charlie can text me. 

“That’s him, I suppose,” Tori says.

A second later, Charlie opens the door, dressed in a hoodie and trackies, looking adorably sleep rumpled.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” he says, his blue eyes trailing up and down my body. “I didn’t like waking up alone.”

I drop my rucksack and tote bag of food, and lift him into my arms.

“I didn’t like leaving you,” I reply, hauling him up so his legs wrap around my waist. “But I’m back now, Char.”

Charlie grins and cups my face to kiss me.

“There’s something I need to tell you…”

“Ahem.” Tori clears her throat behind him. I turn to see a petite, straight-haired, female version of Charlie, staring back at me with the same deep blue eyes, and yet, they are more analytical, calculating but not cold. “You must be Nick.”

“Nice to meet you, Tori,” I say, pecking Charlie’s cheek before I put him down. “Charlie said you were coming next weekend.”

“Charlie got his Saturdays mixed up,” Tori replied nonchalantly. She points to my bags. “Does one of those contain breakfast?”

“Uh, yes.” I pick up my bags and pass her the groceries. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you so I’ve only picked up enough for me and Charlie. The croissants could do with warming but I can—”

“I have tortilla, pan y tomate and jamon, ” Tori says briskly, her Spanish accent perfect. “We’ll put it all together.”

“Y-yes, sounds great,” I manage to say. She’s kind of intimidating. “I love Spanish breakfasts.”

Tori stares at me for a second.

“What do you know about Spanish breakfasts?” she asks with a sceptical raise of her eyebrow.

“My family and I used to go to Menorca every year until I left uni,” I explain hastily under Tori's intimidating stare . “I still go on holiday with my mum once a year, but we only go to Menorca now if my aunt and uncle and their kids can join us because the villas are pretty big.” I’m rambling now. Shit. “But the kids are actually in their late twenties so not really kids. Last year, Mum and I went to Barcelona and spent a few days at this beach resort called Salou…”

My voice tails off when Charlie’s hand slips into mine, and I feel him nuzzle my shoulder with his nose.

“You’re very cute when you chatter like that,” he murmurs. “I forgot to mention that our dad is Spanish, sweetheart. So when someone knows Spanish food, we like it.”

I turn to look at him, and my breath catches in my throat as I get the full force of his loving gaze. I cup his face, then rub his plump lips with my thumb.

“I like you,” I can’t help but say. “So much.”

He doesn’t reply with words, but presses his lips to my palm.

“Breakfast.” Tori’s voice loudly cuts into our little bubble. “I’ve been up since half four and I’m fucking starving, so we’re not waiting for your croissants to warm.” She gives us a pointed look. 

“Sorry, I tend to get carried away when it comes to your brother,” I tell her, letting go of Charlie’s hand to wrap my arm around him. “He’s amazing.”

“He is, but you are not yet qualified to know that for certain,” Tori says, turning and walking into the kitchen area. “How do you take your tea?”

“Just milk, quite strong, thanks,” I reply.

“OMG, she really likes you!” Charlie whispers once she's out of the room.

“She does?” 

Charlie goes on his tiptoes to speak into my ear.

“If she hated you, she’d have given you the silent treatment,” he says. “I was with Ben for years and she barely spoke ten words to him.”

“That was seven too many,” Tori deadpans from the kitchen. Apparently she has super-acute hearing.

“What three words were right?” I can’t help but ask.

“Fuck off Ben, you dickhead,” she says with a shake of her head as she effortlessly navigates Charlie’s space. “My bad, that was five words.”

Charlie and I glance at each other and then laugh.

“I’m honoured that I’ve been spoken to more than him,” I reply, before turning to speak softly to Charlie. “I still can’t believe he let you go, but I’m so bloody grateful.”

Charlie hugs me tightly, and we stand there in each other’s arms quietly while Tori makes tea and coffee and puts breakfast together. 

“Right you freaking cuddlebugs,” she begins when it’s done. “Can you let go of each other long enough to take these to the table?”

“Yes but I don’t like it,” Charlie replies, and sticks his tongue out at his sister, then quickly pecks me on the lips before grabbing a tray of food.

We sit around Charlie’s small dining table and Tori forks a big piece of tortilla into her mouth.

“Hmm,” she mumbles.

“Tori gets hangry easily, in case you hadn’t gathered,” Charlie says with a chuckle as he sips his coffee. She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t say anything. “After breakfast,” he continues, “would you mind if we set up my drumkit? I’m itching to play again.”

My cock twitches at the thought of Charlie playing the drums. I might not be able to take it. Seriously, how hot?

Suddenly my phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Sorry, I’ll turn it off…”

I glance at my screen.

Priya: Indy has gone AWOL again. Are you around? Would you mind helping the search?

“Important?” asks Charlie.

“Uhh, sort of… Indy’s gone walkabout again.”

“Oh no, silly girl,” Charlie says.

Tori drops her fork.

“Indy? What’s Indy? Human or animal?” she asks, her bright blue eyes wide with tension.

“Indira Gandhi, Indy, is my friend’s cat, a white Persian. She likes to wander but now that she’s getting on a bit, she gets lost easily.”

“Poor thing,” Tori says. “Right, eat up, guys.”

“Guess we’re rescuing Indy with you,” Charlie says, glancing at his sister and smirking. “Cats are Tori’s spirit animal.”

Good to know. I pick up my phone.

“I’ll text Priya and tell her we’ll meet her at her house in half an hour.”

-cXc-

Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Summary:

Nick, Charlie and Tori go Indy-hunting. Tori and Charlie have a heart-to-heart. Nick and Charlie have a 'constructive' Sunday evening in Charlie's flat.

Notes:

I am loving your enthusiasm for this story, and I can't believe we're approaching the halfway point already.

Big thanks to HanKitchman for the beta-read.

Let the fluff continue!

Chapter Ten

Charlie

For the second Saturday in a row, the weather is miserable. It’s almost like the fates don’t want us to go hiking! It doesn't matter though because I’m with Nick. Oh, and I think my sister actually likes him.

We walk over to Priya’s from my flat under a huge golf umbrella.  Nick holds the umbrella in one hand and wraps his other arm around my waist, while Tori walks in front of us wrapped in about five layers and her full-length, hooded black puffa.

“So Tori doesn’t like golf umbrellas?” Nick whispers.

“She finds them oppressive,” I whisper back. “Little umbrella or no umbrella. That's her stance.”

“I see,” Nick replies in a way that suggests he doesn’t, but that’s okay because he only met her forty-five minutes ago. “How are you, love? Our Saturday plans keep getting derailed don’t they?”

 “I’m okay, and I don’t mind our plans getting derailed as long as I still get time with you.”

I’m rewarded with a soft kiss on my face, not quite on my cheek, but kind of just by my nose. It makes me ache for more, and I stop walking. Nick turns to me, instinctively pulling me closer by my waist.  

“Same,” he murmurs, before bending down to kiss me.

I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth and absorbing his moans.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tori mutters. She seems extra cranky today. Maybe it’s because she’s sleep deprived, but maybe it’s something else….? “Can’t you keep your hands off each other for ten minutes?”

“To be fair, Tor, cat-hunting in the rain was not what we were going to be doing this morning, so let me steal a kiss or three.”

“Ugh,” Tori grumbles, but in the moment I don’t care because I’ve captured Nick’s mouth again and we kiss a couple more times before reluctantly parting.

“Okay, let’s go,” Nick says, holding me close again as we resume walking. “Straight over this junction, Tori.”

Just as Tori’s about to cross from Moortown Corner to the other side of Street Lane, I hear a pitiful squeak.

“WAIT!” I call out, then turn around. I pause,in anticipation of hearing that sound again. “Indy?” I hear another squeak.

“I heard that,” Nick says. He points in the direction of the ice cream parlour. “That way.”

“Indy? INDIRA GANHDI!”

“Meowwww!”

We look up to see Indy caught in the poles of a parasol over one of the ice cream parlour’s benches. She’s bedraggled and wet, just like last Saturday.

“Oh you silly kitty,” I tell her as I reach for her. “Nick, pass me your scarf.”

--

“Thank you so much for rescuing Indy yet again!” Jen cries as Nick, Tori and I pile into their house. “Come in, come in! Oh, and you must be Charlie’s sister. So nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” Tori repeats, holding onto Indy who is purring in her arms. “You have a lovely cat and a lovely home.”

Tori sounds a little bit like Wednesday Addams when she says it, but Jenny is unfazed.

“Thanks. Priya’s just making a pot of tea…” Tori wrinkles her nose very subtly but Jen catches it. “But we also have coffee, juice,or some fizzy drinks if you’d prefer.”

“An orange juice or a lemonade if you have those, just water if not, thank you,” Tori replies, pausing before adding. “Sorry for interloping with my brother and Nick.”

“It’s a pleasure to have you, love,” Jen murmurs, moving to tap Tori’s shoulder but thinking better of it. “I’ll get the drinks.”

When we’re sitting down, Indy wriggles out of Tori’s arms, shakes off Nick’s scarf and crawls over to me, pawing my thighs a couple of times before settling down on my lap.

“Well, she certainly loves the family Spring,” Nick says, squeezing in next to me and wrapping his arm over my shoulders. I grab his hand and thread our fingers together while petting Indy with the other. “Maybe she was looking for you, hoping you’d come by.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” says Priya, coming into the room with a loaded tray of drinks and snacks. “When she falls in love, she falls fast and hard.”

“Have you had many beaus, little Indy?” I ask her, lightly scratching her ears. “Am I just your latest love?”

“Hey, I saw Charlie first!” Nick laughs, kissing my cheek.

Indy narrows her eyes and rolls over onto her back, stretching across me.

“It looks like she’s marked her territory,” Tori remarks, leaning forward to accept the lemonade Priya offers. “She has good taste.” Tori looks at Nick pointedly. “Charlie’s the best.”

“We’re coming to realise that,” Jenny says, sliding into the loveseat next to Priya. “It has been such a pleasure getting to know Charlie recently.”

“I’m feeling happier in my own skin, for the first time in ages,” I tell them, “and it’s because I feel… embraced by everyone in my life here.”

Nick kisses my temple softly, Indy rolls over and licks the crook of my elbow, while Priya and Jen lean over and squeeze my hands. I glance over at Tori, and her eyes are misted over. She blinks them away before the others notice, but I see it, and she knows I do.

Something’s up with her. Something big.

We finish our drinks and I give a reluctant Indy back to her mums, before Nick, Tori and I leave. It’s still raining, but only a few spots and drizzles.

“So, back to yours to set up your drumkit?” Nick asks, and there’s a gorgeous gleam in his amber-brown eyes. “I can’t wait to hear you play.”

As much as I’m itching to drum, and have Nick keep looking at me like that, I need to spend time with Tori.

“Nick, sweetheart, would you mind giving Tori and I a couple of hours, brother-sister time, you know?” I ask him, pressing myself against his thick, strong body. “I’ll, uh, make it up to you.”

Nick takes my face in both his hands and kisses me sweetly, softly.

“Take all the time you need, Char,” he murmurs, kissing me again as his arms encircle my waist. “Tori, you can say no, but would you like to come to dinner at mine this evening?” he asked. I appreciate him asking her. After all the unexpected events and obstacles, it’s a simple way to give Tori a bit of control over the day.

“That’s a very good plan,” Tori replies. “Charlie and I will come around at seven o’clock. With Thai food so you don’t need to cook.”

I cringe, knowing that a takeaway is not really in my budget, but I don’t want to argue with Tori right now.

“Wonderful plan,” Nick agrees. “Thanks Tori. See you later.”

With a final kiss, Nick heads in the direction of his cottage, while Tori and I return to my flat in silence. This isn’t unusual for us; one of the great things about our sibship is our ability to just be with each other. However, as we get closer to my flat, the weight of what Tori isn’t saying starts to tug at my edges.

“So, spill,” I finally say as soon as we’re inside. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Tori shoots back before taking off her coat and stomping into my living room. “Fucking nothing.”

I hang up my coat and follow her. She has flopped onto the sofa, and is resolutely refusing to look at me.

“You’re snappy and got teary-eyed in a split-second when I talked about settling in here,” I point out, sitting next to her. I take her hand and she huffs but doesn’t pull away. “What’s happened, Victoria?”

“Michael accepted a job at the National Ice Centre without discussing it with me,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap. I open my mouth to ask but she preempts me. “In Nottingham.”

“Nottingham?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “He would be assistant coach to the Speed Skaters’ Performance Programme, teach beginners and do some marketing for the centre.”

 “Sounds like his dream job.”

“I know, it is,” she murmurs sadly. “But how could he say yes without asking me? He expects me to uproot my whole life.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.” Michael was very laid-back and absolutely adored my sister; I couldn’t imagine him putting any kind of demand on her. “Did he actually say that?”

“He said ‘I had to say yes. I won’t get another opportunity like this, Tori. But look, we’ll make it work, love.’”

“That doesn't sound like an expectation. It’s pretty vague.”

“I don’t like vague,” she retorts. “Vague means I’m going to be the one who has to actually do the work.” She looks out of the window; the rain has stopped and the sun is shining brightly. “I don’t want to move.”

“Because you love Bristol?” I ask gently. She turns to me, wary, but I keep going. “You know, you complain a lot about the hills and how much the mortgage on your flat is. And how noisy it gets. And about how the police seem to turn a blind eye to public marijuana use, which sets off your asthma. Oh, and cyclists getting in the way. And the airport being shit. And—”

“Okay yes!” she cries. “But better the devil you know!” She rubs her face. “Better a place where I know what I’m getting, than a completely new city hundreds of miles away where I’ll have to rebuild. New job, new routine, new people!”

“I know you hate change, Tori, but this doesn’t have to be the catastrophe you’re imagining,” I murmur. “Nottingham will be different, yes, but it’s cheaper, still far from Mum and Dad, but closer to me.”

“Seventy-seven miles, one hour and thirty-two minutes’ drive.”

“See? You could come for dinner and still go home to your own bed if you wanted!”

She cracks a tiny smile.

“I was thinking about doing long-distance for a while, keep my job and just see Michael on weekends,” she begins, sounding brighter, “but I can’t do it. As much as I want to punch him, I love him.”

“He’s your ESH, of course you do.”

“’ESH?’” Tori raises an eyebrow. “What? I bloody hate your acronyms.”

I decide not to point out that she doesn’t hate them at all; she has plenty of her own.

“Emotional Support Human,” I explain, “and acronyms are cute and efficient, thank you very much!” I poke her in the top of her arm. “You’ve been together twenty years, of course you can’t do long-distance.”

“We can’t,” she agrees. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then says sternly, “But if we’re moving to Nottingham, I’m going to demand that we get a house instead of a flat. And I want a cat.”

“An Indy to call your own?”

“Yep. Maybe two.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and suggest something I know will cheer her up.

“Want to go on RightMove and see what houses you can afford in Nottingham if you sell your Bristol flat?”

--

Tori’s in a much better mood by the time we go to the Thai restaurant to pick up our takeaway. I don’t explicitly highlight how skint I am, but she has good intuition and pays for it all. Also, she gets extra prawn crackers because she thought Nick would appreciate them.

I love my sister.

Nick greets us at the door with the biggest grin on his face and it gets even bigger when he sees the bag of takeaway food with two bags of prawn crackers sticking out.

“OMG this is amazing!” he cries, taking the bag from Tori with one hand and drawing me into his side by wrapping his other arm around my waist. “How much do I owe you?”

“ Nada, ” Tori replies, looking around. “It’s on me.” She narrows her eyes at Nick when he starts to protest. “It’s. On. Me.”

“Okay then.”

Nick lets Tori in and when she’s gone past us, steals a quick peck.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His cheeks pink up when I appraise him, taking in his tight white t-shirt and navy trousers that are kind of like a cross between denim and joggers; they hug his bum but then are loose.

“You look so handsome,” I whisper, rubbing my nose against his. “I missed you.”

“Missed you,” he whispers back, clasping his arms behind my back so I’m totally enclosed. “So happy we’re having dinner together tonight.”

“Ahem.”

We spring apart at the sound of Tori’s cough.

“Tori, we, uh…” Nick begins but she rolls her eyes and smirks.

“Snog and grope away until dinner’s ready,” she says, turning and heading back to the kitchen. “I’ve already found your plates and cutlery. I’ll yell when I’ve put the food out on your table. Deal?”

“Deal!” I answer for Nick before fisting his t-shirt in my hands. He gasps slightly, and when our eyes meet, I swear his dark brown pools go darker with want.

“So I can kiss you properly?” he murmurs, ducking his head down so our lips are almost touching. His hands skim over my arse and then it’s my turn to gasp.

“Please.”

“Okay then.”

**** 

Nick

Tori leaves for Bristol on Sunday lunchtime. We had a good Saturday evening eating the most delicious Thai food, watching TV and chatting about music and gigs we’ve been to over the years. Tori and Charlie have quite broad tastes, from classical to pop to grungy rock, but Tori especially loves Radiohead, while Charlie’s favourite band is Muse.

In the presence of these two cool cats, I feel a little ashamed to admit that I’m a big old Swiftie, and I love grandad music like Fleetwood Mac, but Tori and Charlie look at each other before Tori rolls her eyes and the pair of them break into a note-perfect rendition of 22. It was amazing. 

They went back to Charlie’s at eleven. I didn't miss him too much because I joined them for brunch this morning; we just had beans on toast with fried eggs, and some fresh pineapple for afters. Charlie and I both need to go shopping.

Once Tori’s little Citroen CV trundles out of sight, Charlie turns towards me and runs his delicate hands down my chest.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, before looking up at me and fluttering his eyelashes. “I could do with a nap. What about you?”

“Good idea,” I mumble back, my body reacting instantly to his simple touch. “I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

“No?” Charlie leans into me, pressing against me like a cat. A very sexy, slinky cat. “Why not?”

“Because I wasn’t sleeping next to you.”

“Nick…”

Charlie throws his arms around me and we both stop talking as I lift him and carry him up to his flat. He assaults my neck and ear with hot, wet kisses as I stumble up the stairs, my dick so hard it feels like I’m going to explode through my clothes. I grip onto his cute little arse and he lets out the filthiest moan right into my ear.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me…” I groan as I fumble with his flat door.

“As long as you die inside me,” he retorts, nibbling the shell of my ear gently. “I need you to fuck me like your life depends on it.”

“Yesss… I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but I promise I’m not leaving until you’re fucked out and fully satisfied.”

Charlie points in the direction of his bedroom, clutching onto me so tight, his hard cock nudging my soft belly.

“Then you are never leaving, because I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough.”

Fine by me.

I kneel on the bed, still carrying him, and then lie him down. He’s just so beautiful, his dark curls spilling over the sheets, his lean, long body waiting for me. He pulls off his t-shirt and jumper in one go, while I throw off my tee and hoodie, and then I lie on top of him so our bare chests rub together.

“I love your skin on mine,” I tell him as I lick along his jaw. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

He shakes his head. “I like you on top of me,” he replies. “It makes me feel safe.”

Warmth blooms through my chest.

“You make me feel safe too,” I murmur. “Safe to be me.”

“Oh God, Nick.” He curls his arms around my shoulders and then reaches up for a deep kiss. “How are you real? You’re better than any movie boyfriend out there.”

“’Movie boyfriend?’”

“You know, the perfect man who only exists in movies. Hot, loving, caring, protective yet vulnerable, and intelligent.” He pauses for a moment and his cheeks colour. “Like Langston from Value For Money.’

“Well, you got four out of five there; nobody would call me ‘intelligent,’” I laugh, shrugging and looking away. “But you’re the whole thing. Five out of five. Perfect. My own personal Freddie.”

“Nick…” Charlie slips his hands up my shoulders to cup my face. “I got five out of five with you, baby. Perfect.” He leans forward and taps my nose. “You. Are. Absolutely. Perfect. For. Me.”

I can’t help but kiss him because I believe it. We are absolutely perfect for each other. 

Very soon, the rest of our clothes are lost and I’m exploring his gorgeous body with my mouth. He plants his fingers in my hair, lightly scratching my scalp as he hums and gasps, writhes and squirms beneath me. In the back of my mind, as I swirl my tongue around his dark nipple, I try to remember a time I felt so attracted to somebody. So desperate for them.

I can’t.

“God, I’m so hard for you,” I whisper. “Ever since we met, all I do is think about you.” I push one of his arms above his head and thread our fingers together. He keeps his other hand in my hair. “I want to make you feel so good, baby.”

“You are,” Charlie breathes. He rocks his hardness upwards so it presses against my tummy. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

I move up so I can kiss him, then press my cheek to his. He winds his long legs around mine, stroking the back of his foot along my calf. That tiny thing feels incredibly intimate, makes me shiver, makes me even more desperate for him.

“I’m going to keep kissing down your body until I reach your beautiful cock, which I’m going to swallow down until I can’t take anymore. Then while my mouth is so full, I’m going to fill your pretty little arse with my fingers, one at a time until you’re good and stretched.”

“Hmm, now that’s a good plan,” Charlie mumbles against my mouth. “You’re going to make me gape so big.”

“So big,” I agree. “I’m so turned on thinking about how you’re going to open up for me, but even more about sliding so deep inside you that your body thinks I’m part of you.”

“Oh fuck, yeah.” Charlie uses his heels to press my arse in so our hard cocks rub together. “I need that.” He opens his eyes and stares back with huge, hungry-looking eyes. “I need you. Now.”

Without hesitation, I drag myself down his body, licking a stripe down the middle of his chest and tummy as I go, sucking his belly button and down his happy trail. His cock is beautifully hard, and my mouth starts to water. But before I touch it, I pay attention to his balls. I nuzzle and flick my tongue against them, inhaling so I’m overwhelmed by the scent of him. My own balls tighten in anticipation.

I lick my lips then suck each one of his balls into my mouth, causing Charlie’s back to arch and his hands cup my face. His thumbs brush against my cheeks, and that delicate touch makes me shiver.

“Baby,” Charlie moans. “More, please.”

I know instinctively what he wants, so kiss his balls and then suck his cock into my throat. I take him into me until I gag, then take a deep breath and he slides in a little more. It takes me a moment to get my breathing right, fighting the urge to reject his member, but then everything clicks. Soon I’m sliding him in and out of my throat, and start to press my finger against his taint.

“Lube,” Charlie mumbles through big, shuddery breaths. “You’ll need lube.”

He moves slightly and then a second later, a tube of lube hits the bed by my shoulder. I reach for it and clumsily squeeze some out onto my fingers. Then as I keep blowing him, I start to explore past his taint. My fingers are enveloped in heat as I get close to his hole, but his bum is so tight that I struggle to get further, especially as my mouth is occupied.

I pop off him for a moment, and he looks down at me with an adorable frown.

“I just need to…”

I use my elbows to spread his legs wider. He realises what I need and bends his knees, gripping the backs of his thighs.

“Better access now?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, kissing the insides of his thighs wetly before hungrily finding his cock again.

Now, my fingers are able to slide down his taint and into his crack more easily, and I press against his hole.

“Omigod, wow, wow,” Charlie babbles. “Push inside. Please. Please!”

“Hmm.” My mouth hovers over his tip. “It’s so fucking hot when you beg, as much as when you’re bossy.”

Before he can answer, I advance forward, sucking him again as I push into his arse with my finger. His body absorbs me, flooding my digit with heat.

“Yes, oh God, that’s so fucking good,” Charlie pants. “Second finger, baby, now!”

The second one takes a bit more adjusting on both Charlie’s part and mine; I feel him clench a little, and he hisses with the stretch, but after a couple of seconds, my second finger is also taken in, and I push in, right to the hilt.

“Fuck! Fuck! At this rate I’m going to come before you enter me…”

I look up, silently asking if I should back off a bit, but he shakes his head. He lets go of one of his thighs and holds up three fingers.

“Hmm?” I ask, tilting my head. I want him to be sure.

“Yes, yes!” he replies urgently. “Three fingers! I need them…” He drops his gaze and his voice goes all soft and husky. “I need you, baby.”

What Charlie wants, I’m going to give to him. I think I’d give him the world if I could.

I work in three fingers, glad that I used a lot of lube before, but go slow. He hisses again, then relaxes back into the pillows and holds his thighs up once more. I’m getting so turned on by this new sensation, the feel of him around my hand and inside my mouth, that I won’t have long to fuck him if I keep going.

“Ready for the condom, Char,” I murmur once I’ve pulled off his delicious cock.

Charlie lets go of his thighs and fumbles around the nightstand for the condoms, then throws me a strip.

“I need you inside me. I’m so close,” he says. When I don’t respond he whines, “Ni-ick!”

“Watch me get ready for your arse, gorgeous baby.”

His intense blue eyes are on my cock in an instant as I roll on the rubber and lube up generously.

“Come to me.” He beckons me down. “I want to see you the first time we do this.”

“Wasn’t planning on taking you any other way.”

I come down between his legs and lean over him, propping myself up on one elbow while I guide myself into him with the other hand. Charlie strokes my fringe away from my forehead and hums gently when I kiss his forehead.

“Nick.”

Our breathing is in sync as I push into him, our eyes locked on each other. He’s a little red-faced and we’re both quite sweaty already, and I love it. Soon I’m completely surrounded by him, his heat and tightness around my cock, his legs over mine, his arms around my back and shoulders as we move together. My heart thrums like a million butterflies beating in sync; I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to anyone as I do now. With every thrust I seem to go a little further into him, deeper into fiery ecstasy. Then, all of a sudden, my cock rubs over something smooth inside him and he arches into me, holding me even tighter.

“There?” I whisper into his ear. “That’s your, uh…?”

“Prostate, yeah.”

I stay still and roll my hips against him before moving faster in and out, concentrating on that spot. Charlie goes from breathy gasps to loud moans and expletives, which only makes me go harder and faster. I manage to slip a hand around his leaking member, desperate to make him come.

“I want your orgasm, baby,” I tell him. “I want all of them. I want to do this with you all the livelong day.”

“Yes, Nick, fuck, yes!”

Charlie shakes in my arms, juddering and babbling as he relaxes around me and flops against the bed. Such an incredibly gorgeous sight totally tips me over the edge and a few rapid thrusts later, I’m following him into orgasmic bliss.

I don’t know how long passes as we lie there together, panting and sighing, me still inside him and his come sticking our bellies together. It’s only when Charlie’s hands slip down my sides and rub up and down my chubby love handles that I realise I’m not feeling self-conscious about them anymore. I love the feel of his touch there. Everywhere.

“God, you are amazing,” I manage to mumble into his neck.

“ You’re amazing,” Charlie whispers, turning his head to kiss my cheek. “I have never, ever, come that hard in my life.”

“Me neither.”

“I don’t really want to move,” he admits.

“Me neither, but we’ve got to go to Aldi and—”

Charlie’s hand pats my bum and I forget everything in my head as new embers of arousal start within.

“Or we could stay here and eat UFOs for dinner,” he suggests. “We can go to Aldi tomorrow after work.”

“’UFOs?’”

“Unidentified Freezer Objects,” he clarifies. “You know, those random bits of food you stick in the freezer but forget to label, so when you defrost them it’s a surprise? I have loads. At least one of them is leftover curry from Priya.”

“Haha, UFOs! I love it. Okay then!”

Charlie pouts his full lips and I kiss him soundly, before rolling us over so he’s on top. He sits up, pulls off me and before I can do it, he gets rid of the condom. Once he wipes us down with a warm washcloth, he snuggles back against my chest. Then I drape the duvet over us and we doze together all afternoon.

-cXc-

Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

Summary:

Nick and Charlie do the food shop together, which leads to a surprise meeting. The Oseman team help James out when he gets overwhelmed by all the work Harry left behind.

Notes:

Huge thanks for your ongoing support of this story. And of course thanks to my awesome beta and friend HanKitchman.

Chapter Eleven

Charlie

Nick stays with me all Sunday. We eat together, watch TV, doze in bed and on the sofa, and of course, have amazing sex. Like, amazing, amazing. Three times. No, four!

Monday morning arrives and Nick’s alarm goes off at the ungodly time of 6.15am.

“Ni-ick…” I whine, patting him on the chest a few times. I’m wrapped up in his arms, using his shoulder as a pillow. “It’s too early!”

“I know,” he grumbles back, holding me tighter before dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t want to leave you.”

Well, isn’t that just the cutest thing? It definitely deserves a kiss or three so I tilt my head up to find Nick’s mouth.

“Fuck, Charlie…”

He flips me over onto my back and runs his hands up my sides before kissing me soundly, and we make out like that until the bloody alarm goes off again, and we both groan.

“Sorry, Char, I do breakfast clubs in the mornings so I have to be at work by half seven,” Nick says sheepishly. “I should get back to mine and get ready.”

“I know. It's fine.” It definitely is not fine. God, I miss him already.

“Hey.” He strokes under my chin. “Why don’t I pick you up from work and then we can do our food shop together?”

“Yes please!”

We both laugh at my enthusiastic reply.

--

“Well, don’t you looked fucked-out and happy,” Sahar quips as I amble into the break room mid-morning. “Good weekend?”

“Fucking brilliant,” I sigh. “Emphasis on the ‘fucking!’”

“Ahh, I’m happy for you, pal!” she replies, pressing the ‘latte’ button on the coffee machine. “The only ‘fucking’ in our household was Joshi trying to hump a Pomeranian in Meanwood Park!”

“Joshi’s the size of a horse, so how did that work?” I laugh.

“Well, it didn’t.”

We both chuckle.

“You two are in good spirits this morning!” says James, coming into the coffee room. His dark hair is all tufty, like he’s been running his hands through it.

“Are you okay, boss?” asks Sahar, handing him her latte. “I think you need this coffee urgently.”

“Bloody hell, yeah,” he agrees, gulping at the hot coffee then wincing at the burn. “Harry left behind a huge mess. Management records not filled in, big accounts not filed correctly, and don’t even get me started on the annual report, which is due in six weeks.”

“Can we help in any way?” I ask. “I could take over some of the account filing, and pull together figures for the report.”

“And I can help with the management records,” adds Sahar. “I have a protocol for completing them, but Harry preferred to do it his own way.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” James mumbles, taking another, smaller sip of his coffee.

“Uhh, yes you can,” I reply. “You’re our boss now; you can delegate to us and the rest of the team.”

“Huh, I never thought about that,” James replies. “Let me think about how I’d like to approach it all, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Sure thing, bossman!” Sahar says, patting James on the shoulder.

--

I find myself solo at lunchtime. James is working through, Sahar has gone to the bank, and Sasha’s taken the day off for a uni assignment. 

I’m sitting in the canteen, halfway through my veggie noodle salad, when my phone lights up.

Nick: Hey gorgeous, how’s your morning been? I miss you!

Charlie: Oh, god, I miss you too. Morning has been okay. James (new head of dept) is quite stressed though. Fucking Harry left behind a god-awful mess.

N: Well of course he did, the wanker. James… tall, dark-haired guy?

C: Yep. You might have seen him Friday evening when you joined us for drinks.

N: I think I’ve met him at one of Tara and Darcy’s parties too. Nice guy, bit anxious.

C: That’s James. I’ve volunteered to help him with the backlog so might end up doing a few extra hours this week.

N: You’re so kind, Char. I really miss you now!

C: Pot, kettle, very black, my sweetheart. Miss you so much

N: Only four hours and twenty-three minutes until I pick you up. Fair warning, I’m going to snog you senseless.

C: Well, you’d better!

N: See you then, love xxx

C: Can’t wait xxx

“CHARLIE!”

Darcy’s shout startles me and I drop my phone.

“What the hell, Darcy!” I cry as they slide into the chair opposite me. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Nah, you could use the jolt,” they say, cracking open a can of Diet Coke. “I saw your moony, dreamy face. You’ve been texting Nick, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” I reply. “How are you? How was the weekend?”

“Wet and miserable, so Tara and I stayed in…” Darcy’s eyebrows waggle.  “If you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” I laugh. “Nick and I stayed in a lot too, although ‘staying in’ was interrupted by an unexpected visit from my sister!”

“OMG, really?”

Darcy and I chat for the rest of my lunchbreak. They howl when I tell them about my sister's dry demeanor. “I bet Nick found her terrifying!” Darcy says through tears of laughter. 

Eventually though, I have to return to work. I sit down at my desk and am unsurprised to see an email from James.

<James.McEwan (OSEMAN PLC)>

<Accounting Team (OSEMAN PLC)>

Subject: Help me!/Team fuddle

Dear Team

Thank you for being so supportive as I take over the role of Head of Accounting. Unfortunately I have inherited quite a lot of unfinished projects and admin from my predecessor, so much that I can’t clear the backlog solo.

Therefore, I am asking for your help! I have approval from senior management to pay everyone for an additional days’ overtime one Saturday or Sunday this month to get through the work. Please complete the Doodle poll below, and we’ll go with the most popular date. Unfortunately, if you’re not able to attend on that day, you won’t be able to claim the overtime.

Also, I thought it would be nice if instead of ordering in or bringing our own lunch, we did a fuddle. That’s ‘bring a dish’ for those of you who don’t speak Yorkshire!

Thanks all

James

I groan internally at the thought of working on the weekend, but I could definitely use the money. Oseman’s weekend overtime pay is generous - double the usual rate. I look at the Doodle poll and nearly the whole team has already answered, with most requesting this Saturday. It doesn’t surprise me; the team doesn't like to leave work lingering.

Before I submit my answer, I quickly text Nick.

C: Hey, sweetheart, I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to work this Saturday. I know we haven’t fixed any plans yet but I thought I should let you know.

Nick texts me back a few minutes later.

N: Oh no, my poor Charlie! My mum is here this weekend so I was going to ask whether you wanted to meet her or if that’s too soon. She’ll be here Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon.

A ripple of nervousness works its way through me at the thought of meeting Nick’s mum, but I push it down.

C: I’d love to meet your mum.

N: Maybe you could meet her Friday night?

C: Okay, but I may only stay for a cuppa, rather than dinner. I tend to get a bit stressed around people I need to impress and my appetite goes AWOL

N: You don’t need to impress her. She’ll like you because I like you! But don’t worry, we can do cuppas only if you prefer. In the Mario mugs!

N: Still ok to pick you up at 5.30?

C: Perfect xxx PS: I miss you

N: Miss you so much, Char xxx

Sighing, I click on the Doodle poll and confirm I’ll be there Saturday. A while later, Sahar sends around a ‘fuddle list,’ where everyone writes down what they’re bringing. I have a think and then get a lightbulb moment before texting Tori.

C: Do you by any chance have Mum’s spinach lasagne recipe? If I text her I’ll get a load of nosy texts right back. 

My sister replies within 30 seconds. 

T: <Spinach lasagne recipe.pdf>

C: Thanks Tori. Chat soon? 

T: Soon.

--

Nick picks me up in his old but well-kept Prius and I’m rewarded with a long kiss, his fingers tangling into the curls at the back of my head. I feel the heady rush of desire and arousal as Nick’s silky tongue parts my lips and slides inside. I almost climb into his lap when a honk from behind us interrupts.

“Oops, got carried away,” Nick says with a grin, pecking me on the lips before shifting gears and setting off. “Ready for Aldi?”

“Yep, got my lists and my bags,” I say, pointing to my backpack. “How was your day, dear?” I drawl theatrically, before placing my hand on his thigh.

“Well, the other teachers think I’m on crack,” he quips, turning away from the city centre and then north towards Chapel Allerton. “I couldn’t stop smiling.” He covers my hand on his thigh. “I pretty much thought about you all day.”

“Me too,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Um, will you stay at mine after we’ve done our shopping?” Nick asks after a couple of minutes, when we’re stopped at a massive intersection of lanes and traffic lights. “There’s room in the fridge for your groceries too, and we can take them to yours in the morning before we go to work, or I can drop you back tonight if you want…”

“Nick, sweetheart, you’re rambling a little,” I say gently. He opens his mouth but I cut him off. “No S-word, love. Why did asking me to stay make you nervous?”

“I’m worried that you’ll get sick of me,” he admits as we trundle behind the Number 36 bus. “I like you so much, and I tend to be all-in when I like someone, so if you need space, please ask me. I won’t be offended.”

“I will ask if I need it…” I squeeze his firm thigh. He looks so hot in his teacher outfit, navy chinos and a light blue shirt with no tie. “But right now, what I need is as little space as possible.”

“Oh yeah?” He glances at me as we sit in a line of traffic at yet another set of lights. “That can definitely be arranged.”

“Good.”

Nick picks up my hand and kisses first my knuckles, and then my palm, before placing it back on his thigh. Finally, the traffic starts moving, and soon we pull into the Aldi car park.

“Are we sharing a trolley or going around separately?” he asks as he goes to the trolley park.

“Sharing, otherwise I’ll have too much space,” I tease, which gets a cute giggle out of him.

Our lists are quite similar, and we chat about meals we’re going to make in the week as we go around the supermarket. We also talk about Nick’s mum’s visit at the weekend.

“She’ll arrive with an absolute ton of food and snacks, and random things she thinks I’ll like or find useful,” Nick says as we go through the freezer section. “Last time she bought me an ‘armrest pillow.”

“An ‘armrest pillow?’”

“Turns out, it was a breastfeeding cushion!” Nick laughs, and I can’t help but guffaw. “But fuck, that thing is so comfy!” He holds his arms out in front of him. “It kind of hugs your body and you rest your arms on it.”

I lean into him so I can whisper in his ear. “Well, maybe I should hug your body so you can rest your arms on me…” I finish with a quick tug of his earlobe with my lips.

“Charlie-ee!” Nick whispers back. “These trousers are tight, baby. It’s not the done thing to walk around Aldi with a semi.”

“Just a semi?” I wrap my arm around his waist and tap his side. “I must be slipping.”

“Let’s just hurry up before I bend you over the Special Buys,” he murmurs, a little red-faced.

We quickly grab our frozen peas and spinach, then head into the bread aisle. Nick picks up a loaf of wholemeal bread and two packs of rolls, while I pick up a loaf of white and a pack of pitta breads, and then we head to the checkout. There are big queues at all the tills so we get in line, and Nick hugs me from behind as I hold onto the trolley, occasionally nuzzling his nose into my curls.

I look around to see if anyone is giving us ‘the glare.’ The ‘why are you being gay in public?’ glare. But nobody is bothered. Not the little old lady with her floral shopping bags, not the biker guy in leathers, not the mother in a hijab juggling a baby and three school-aged kids. I feel myself relax, warm with Nick’s arms around me, safe in the neighbourhood where I now live.

Soon the queue moves and I start loading my stuff on the checkout belt first, while Nick puts down a ‘next customer please’ sign and starts loading his behind it. I get my bags ready because the Aldi cashiers are fast, and move to the end.

“Char, have you got a spare bag, love?” Nick asks. “I’ve got three but I think I’ll need four.”

“Yeah, no worries,” I call back, getting the bags in place. He blows me a kiss.

I wait for the cashier to start, but she doesn’t, and when I look at her, she’s staring at Nick, who is busy putting his things on the belt. When he looks up to see why the belt isn’t moving, he makes eye contact with the cashier and all the colour drains from his face.

“An-Annie?”

****

Nick

My blood seems to freeze in my veins at the sight of my ex-wife Annie, working the checkout at Aldi. I haven’t seen her since the day she left me, well over eighteen months ago. Our divorce was handled remotely, with us arguing via email and telephone mediation.

“Nick,” she says, her voice loud and confident, but I know it’s just bravado. She shakes her highlighted blonde hair lightly so it falls over her shoulders, and then smiles. “You’re looking…” She looks me up and down. “You’re looking well.”

I always hated when Annie said that about other people; it’s what she used to say to sound polite, when behind the fake smile, she was judging them for one reason or another. This time I know it’s because I’ve gained weight since she last saw me.

“He always looks amazing,” Charlie interjects, dropping his shopping bags. “My gorgeous rugby man.”

He walks around the trolley and hugs himself into my side, before placing a hand on my chest. It’s a protective, possessive move and I can’t help but melt into him, sighing as his little finger slips between the buttons of my shirt to stroke my skin.

“Char, this is Annie. Annie, this is my other half, Charlie,” I tell her, hoping Charlie doesn’t mind me calling him that. It’s the truth after all. I’m sure of it. Even more now that Annie’s in front of us. I never felt this strongly for Annie when we were in the early days of our relationship.

“Hi Annie,” Charlie replies curtly. He’s clearly worked out who she is. “Baby, we should get going. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” I agree, kissing his curls. I look back behind us where the queue of shoppers is growing. “And we better not hold up the good folx of Chapel Allerton either.”

“No,” Annie murmurs.

She starts putting the groceries through at lightning speed, as if she wants us to get behind with the packing, but Charlie’s on it, packing everything so fast his hands almost look like a blur. He pays for his shopping, grabs his spare bag back and immediately starts packing mine as I load the last of my items into the belt. Then I join him at the end, and we fall into a rhythm; he packs the lighter items, I pack the heavier stuff. 

“Nick, can you pop this bag on top of the one with the drinks? It’s got your eggs in it,” Charlie asks.

“So you don’t live together?” Annie says as she puts the bread through the checkout. “Separate groceries.”

“No…” I begin, but then stop talking. I don’t owe her the details. I look at Charlie instead.

“No, we don’t,” Charlie agrees, smiling at me and blowing me a tiny kiss.

“How long have you been together?”

“Look love, can you interrogate your hot ex and his cute boyfriend another time?” says the astute old lady behind us. She waves her floral shopping bag. “Some of us want to get home in time for Emmerdale!”

Charlie chuckles, which earns him a glare from Annie, but he glares back defiantly. God, he’s amazing.

“How much do I owe?” I ask.

“Forty-three pounds and eight pence,” Annie mumbles. “Cash or card?”

I tap my phone to the machine by way of answer and take the receipt.

“Bye Annie,” Charlie says coolly, taking the trolley from me.

“Yeah, bye.”

I join Charlie in pushing the trolley, and as soon as we’re outside the store, in full view of everyone, including Annie, he pulls me in by my collar, and kisses me hard.

--

We don’t say anything on the five minute drive back to my house. We take in the groceries in silence, and I’m just about to apologise to Charlie for the whole Annie thing, when comes up to me and places his finger to my lips.

“Don’t say sorry,” he murmurs. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” He drapes his other arm around my neck. “We’ll talk about it soon enough, but right now, you need to do something else.”

“What’s that, then?” My voice is husky because Charlie’s so close.

“Show me that you’re mine now. And that I’m yours.” His lips press against my jaw, and I shudder as his teeth graze my skin. “After all, I’m your ‘other half.’”

“Yes, you are,” I tell him. “I meant it when I said that. I know it’s fast but I’m sure.”

“I feel the same, sweetheart. I think I knew the moment you kissed my cheek outside Bonnie’s.”

“Oh, Char.”

We stare at each other for a moment and then I hoist him into my arms. He wraps himself around me, kissing my neck as I carry him to my bedroom. We don’t talk as we practically rip off each other’s clothes and fall onto the bed together. Charlie’s cock presses against mine as we roll around together, kissing ferociously in an attempt to get as close as possible.

The need to be together, to feel each other, is so intense that I realise we’re never going to last long enough to do any kind of prep.

“Is it okay if we get off like this?” Charlie mumbles against my lips. “Frotting and touching? I don’t think I can wait.”

“It’s like you read my mind, baby.”

“I want you on top of me, please.” Charlie’s voice is high and slightly strained, and my insides turn over with warmth and love as I realise how much he needs me. Because I need him too.

I roll him onto his back fully, then lift his hands so they’re next to his face, and then thread our fingers together. We’re both so hard, and our leakage serves as lube as I rut on top of him, kissing along his collarbones, up his throat to his mouth and back again.

“Yes, yes.. Oh yeah, Nick…”

I fucking love how Charlie babbles as I pleasure him. And how he wraps his legs over mine, keeping me close. The pressure between us is rising as we move together, and soon, Charlie’s feet are sliding up the backs of my thighs, then pushing into my arse, pressing me even closer to him.

“Gonna come soon, baby,” I warn. “I want you so much.”

We make eye contact then, and pause moving for a second.

I love you.

I don’t say the words, but they’re out in the universe nevertheless.

Then we’re moving again, and I free Charlie’s hands so he can cling onto my back as I come explosively, followed by him a moment later.

“Huh,” Charlie whispers once he’s caught his breath. “That was epic, love.”

I raise my head.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me ‘love,’” I realise. “I like it. A lot.”

“So do I,” he replies, pecking me on the side of my mouth.

I expect him to let go of me, but he doesn’t, and instead runs his hands up my back to play with my hair.

“You were perfect in the supermarket,” I croak as I lie there in his arms, on top of him. “I mean, you’re perfect most of the time, but the way you leapt to my side when I realised she was the cashier…”

“Gotta claim my man,” Charlie quips. “She was stupid enough to let you go, and I wanted her to know that I’m going nowhere.”

“Promise?”

I can feel myself getting teary at the mere thought of not having him in my life. I only just found him.

“I promise, sweetheart.” I stroke his curls away from his forehead and press our foreheads together. “But I have to ask… Did you have any lingering feelings for Annie when you saw her again?”

“No!” I exclaim, but then calm. It’s good that we’re talking about her. “Other than being pissed off she’s back in town. Oh, and wondering what’s happened for her to end up working in Aldi. It might sound petty but part of me is kind of glad she’s fallen on hard times. She was so high-and-mighty when she left for Miami.”

“Ooh, sweet Nicholas Nelson has a schadenfreude streak!”

“Not usually, but Annie was such a bitch when she was leaving. She could have sat me down and explained she was unhappy. I’d have been upset but I’d have heard her out. And she knows it.”

“Do you think she’ll try to talk to you? Try to get back with you?”

“Maybe, but not because she actually wants me,” I say. “But because she likes playing stupid games, and she’ll be seething at the fact that I’m with someone new. Someone amazing. Someone more beautiful than her.”

“She wants what she can’t have,” Charlie replies. “I bet she’s the sort that’s never happy with her lot in life.”

“No, never,,” I agree, cupping Charlie’s face before kissing him gently. “But I am. I am so very happy with you, love.”

Charlie grins against my mouth, then rolls us onto our sides.

“We’re going to have a shower in a minute because we’re all crusty, and then I’m making you dinner,” he declares. “Chicken shawarma with Lebanese potatoes and a herby salad. You will love it.” He rubs my arm lightly. “What’s your go-to comfort movie these days? We can watch it after dinner.”

I hesitate for a moment, worried he’s going to judge my taste, but then I realise he won’t. Although he might rip the piss out of me a little. It’s just one of the many ways he shows love.

“Um, uh… would you mind if we watched Value For Money again?”

“You like Value For Money?”

“Yeah… I love it actually... I'm kind of a rom-com fan. Is that okay?” I check sheepishly; it’s crazy how much I want to watch the movie again. With him. 

Suddenly, Charlie squeals and launches himself into my arms, before peppering my face with kisses.

“Why, Nicholas, that’s a great suggestion.”

“You love rom-coms too, don’t you?”

“I do!”

-cXc-

Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Summary:

Nick and Charlie continue to grow closer. All hail the arrival of Queen Sarah!

Notes:

More fluff and love and heat awaits in tonight's chapter! Thank you for reading and commenting!

Also big love to HanKitchman for the beta read and a special hi to my globetrotting friend Claire (Infinite Reads)!

Chapter Twelve

Charlie

“No, Nick… it’s too soon.”

“Please, I want you to have it.”

“You’re persistent when you want to be, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Okay then. Pass it over.”

Nick grins and then presses the key into my hand. It’s attached to an ancient Super Mario Bros keyring.

“I like having you here, Char,” he murmurs, as I curl into his lap. “Yesterday and this morning… it’s been so good.” He swallows thickly and presses his lips to my temple. “Promise me you’ll come and go as you please?”

“You trust me that much?” I ask. “How do you know that I won’t just rob you blind?”

Nick laughs. “I just know. Besides, you already have the most valuable thing I own.”

“You’re going to say that I have your heart, aren’t you?” I reply with a grin.

“Well, you do,” Nick chuckles. “Especially after cooking for me, watching Value For Money with me, and taking care of me.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Twice.”

“Three if you include our emergency frot after Aldi last evening,” I point out before reaching for my coffee mug. One of the Mario mugs. “If you keep spoiling me with morning sex and delicious coffee, I might never leave.”

“Fine by me!” Nick reaches for his tea and drinks half of it in one gulp. “But sadly, I have to go to work. Do you want me to drop you at your flat on the way?”

“Hmm, if I can borrow one of your shirts and a pair of boxers, I can just go to work from here. That is, if you don’t mind my groceries taking up space in your fridge for another day.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” He puts down his mug, the other Mario one, and takes mine from me before flipping me onto my back. “That means we have time for round four in the shower.”

--

The rest of the week passes in a similar way; I spend the evening at Nick’s then can’t bring myself to leave. I do manage to get to my flat for clothes and toiletries, but Nick’s cottage is so much cosier. And of course, it has Nick in it.

“Char?” Nick calls as he opens the door on Friday evening. “Where are you, love?”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart!” I call back as I close the oven door. “I’ve been making the spinach lasagne for tomorrow’s work fuddle!”

“That’s why it smells so incredible here,” he says from the hallway, where I hear him taking off his shoes and hanging up his work bag.

“Thanks for letting me use your kitchen instead of making this at the flat,” I continue. “Yours is just so much nicer.”

And it really is. It’s got great appliances and is finished in a cute modern-country style, with cream shaker cabinets and wood-effect worktops. The appliances are all swish NEFF ones; Nick had only just finished paying off the kitchen refit when Annie left him.

“Not at all, love…” Nick emerges in the doorway to the kitchen and to my surprise he’s cradling Indira Gandhi. “Indy and I are delighted that you’re here.”

I rush over to them and peck Nick on the mouth before taking Indy from him.

“And what did we do to deserve the pleasure of your company, young lady?” I ask, cuddling her to my chest. She purrs lightly before headbutting my chin.

“I found her on the doorstep. I think she knew you were here.”

“Well, I have been here rather a lot,” I reply, letting Nick encircle me with his arms and kiss my curls.

“I know, and it’s been amazing,” he sighs into my hair. “So you skipped Friday drinks?”

“Yeah. We’re going out tomorrow instead because we’re all working the extra shift,” I tell him, just enjoying being in his warm embrace, Indy between us. “Plus I wanted to be here when your mum arrives so I don’t tie myself in knots waiting to meet her. Any update on her ETA?”

“There was a big traffic jam outside Leicester so she’s set back an hour. She thinks about seven.”

Nick steps away, gooses Indy’s head and opens the fridge. He grabs two cans of lemonade and offers one to me.

“Yes please.” I sit down at the kitchen table with Indy, and Nick plops into the chair next to me and puts the cans on the table. “How was your day, love?”

Nick puts his can down and cups my face with both hands. They’re cold from the drink, but I don’t care because he kisses me, soft at first, but then deeper.

“Coming home to find you here was the best thing about it,” he murmurs, when we break apart, thanks to a paw from Indy, patting Nick. “Doing breakfast club and after-school activities is exhausting.”

“Is there any way you can drop a few sessions?”

Nick shakes his head and he sighs.

“I’m starting to get on a more even keel with finances, but I’m going to have to put up with this schedule for the rest of the school year to be secure. Otherwise I’m at risk of falling behind on the mortgage.”

“Oh sweetheart…” Indy chooses that moment to crawl from my arms to Nick’s lap. “How can I make things easier for you?”

“Just having you in my life makes things easier,” he tells me, taking my hand. “I was so miserable before I met you. Now, even though I’m tired and still quite broke, I feel like I’m rich.”

“That’s how I feel,” I tell him. “I was so scared about moving up here, about starting afresh. All the people I’ve met here have made me feel welcome and settled, but you? You make me feel like I’m wealthier than I ever need to be.”

“Oh Char…” He leans in to kiss me again. “Thank you for being here.”

I glance at the oven and smirk.

“How much can you thank me before the lasagne is done?” I whisper. “Thirty-five minutes.”

“Oh, I think I can convey my gratitude quite effectively…”

Indira meows and jumps off Nick’s lap, leaping up onto the kitchen counter before pawing at the window.

“Well, glad you’re not a voyeur, Indy,” I laugh, getting up to open the window. “Go straight home, okay? No playing in the apple tree. Nick and I will be far too busy to rescue you.”

“Meow-meow.” And then she’s off.

“What are the odds we’ll be getting the ladder out in a few hours?” Nick chuckles.

“Oh, I wouldn’t take that bet!” I walk back towards him with my arms open. “Now, we have thirty-four minutes…”

Nick scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder before carrying me to the bedroom.

--

Nick strips off, throwing his work clothes to the floor, and lies on the bed, before beckoning me towards him. I’m about to start stripping too, when I have a better idea. I pick up a bottle of lotion and squirt some between my hands, then straddle him at his knees. 

“I think you could do with a little massage, Coach.”

I rake my eyes up and down his lush body before lingering on his cock for a second. 

“Oh God, yes please,” he moans. “It’s kind of even hotter that you’re still dressed.”

He’s soon writhing under me as I press and rub his shoulders, chest and tummy, and that writhing doubles when I finally get my hand on his beautiful cock. 

“I think you’re close, Mr Nelson…” I coo as I stroke him firmly. 

“Fuck, yes, Char… So close already. Missed you.”

It doesn’t take him long to come, and I move my hands away so that he erupts over himself, which is an incredible sight; he’s flushed from head to toe, his freckles lit up like fireworks, covered in stripes of white. 

“I want your cock, baby,” he says when he catches his breath. He pats the bed. “In my mouth.”

I flop over onto my back and he unzips me before instantly engulfing my dick with his hot mouth. I’m already so turned on that I’m near the edge already. 

“Where do you want it?” I pant, eyeing his thick, gorgeous naked body as Nick pulls off my cock for a second. He opens his mouth wide. “Okay then, baby.”

“Hmmm-hmm,” he hums contentedly before sucking me in again. I grab his head and he smiles around my dick as I thrust in and out of him, fucking his mouth.

“Oh yeah, gonna…”

I spill ropes down his throat, causing him to gag slightly. He pulls off, a small thread of my come staying between us, and he waits a beat, looking like a chipmunk as he prepares to swallow.

Just then there is a loud knock on the front door followed by the sound of it opening.

“Yoo-hoo, Nicky!” a gentle, female voice calls out. “Ooh, what smells so delicious?”

“Is that your mum?” I hiss as Nick looks like he’s about to choke. He nods violently. “Shit!”

He finally manages to swallow.

“Shit!” He looks down at himself and then feels his hair. “God, I look thoroughly fucked, don’t I?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Nick?” calls his mum. “Nicky?”

“Go out first?” he begs. “You’re still wearing some clothes. I’m not!”

“Oh. Errm, Okay.” My nerves at meeting Nick’s mum solo are overcome by the horror at the prospect of her finding us in here. 

I kiss his forehead, stand up, tuck myself back into my trousers and head out of the bedroom, straight into a petite, dark haired woman in her early sixties. She’s wearing a bright yellow jumper and loose, light blue jeans with yellow plimsolls, her mid-length hair held back by a blue and yellow scarf.

“Oh, uh, hi!” I mumble. “You must be Sarah. I’m Charlie. Nick is… Nick is, uh, getting ready.”

A wicked grin comes over Sarah’s face as she looks me up and down.

“I see,” she replies, bemused. “Charlie, I am delighted to meet you.” She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “Be a dear and help me with my bags while Nick ‘gets ready.’”

Oh yeah, Nick’s mum knows what we were up to. She gives off the best warm-hearted mum vibes, and she’s obviously sharp as a tool. Despite the embarrassing start, I like her immensely.

By the time Nick emerges from the bedroom, having washed his face, brushed his teeth and dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, I’ve helped Sarah unload four big bags of stuff into the kitchen, plus a holdall.

“Mum!”

“Nicky!” Sarah engulfs Nick in a huge hug, and he lifts her clean off the ground. “I missed you, baby.”

“Missed you too.” He looks over the bags on the kitchen table. “So you brought me half of Tesco, I see.”

“Just a few things,” she replies with a shrug. “What smells so good?”

“I’m making spinach lasagne for a work fuddle tomorrow,” I say. “We’re all doing a day’s overtime to get a backlog cleared.”

“Lucky work colleagues,” Sarah says, licking her lips. “Did you make it with ricotta, spinach and tomato layers?”

“Yep, and a layer of courgettes, peppers and aubergine too,” I say proudly. “Five a day in one portion!”

“Any chance we can sneak a taste, love?” Nick asks as I open the oven door.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” I say, pulling two dishes out of the oven. “I made a second one for you and Sarah.”

“And this is why you’re the best boyfriend in the world!” Nick replies, letting go of his mum to wrap me in his arms. “I’m so pleased you and Mum have met this weekend.”

Sarah claps her hands together.

“Oh, Nick, you look so happy!” She turns to me. “Charlie, I haven’t seen Nick glow like this in years. I know we don’t know each other yet but I can already tell… you love my son the way he deserves to be loved.”

“Mu-um…” Nick mumbles. “We haven’t actually said—“

“And he loves me the way I deserve to be loved,” I say, before looking up at Nick. “I love him, Sarah. I love him so much.”

“Char…” Nick leans down to press his forehead to mine. “I love you too.”

--

Nick

“Thank you for the lift,” Charlie murmurs as I pull up outside Oseman PLC’s staff entrance Saturday morning. He cups my face and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “I’ll text you throughout the day.”

“Have a good one, love,” I reply, kissing the heel of his palm. I swallow hard before adding, “I love you.”

Charlie gives me the most beautiful smile.

“I love you too.” He pecks me lightly on the side of my mouth. “Have a great day with your mum.”

“I will.”

We look at each other for a moment longer, and then Charlie’s pulling me in by fisting my hoodie. We kiss deeply for a minute but then Charlie’s phone beeps with his diary alert.

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“I need one more kiss.”

“I know that too.”

I run my fingers into his silky, dark curls before tilting my head. Charlie meets my mouth and strokes his tongue against mine. I’m so hard for him it hurts and I’m about five seconds away from asking whether there’s a supply cupboard we can use in his office, when there’s a knock at my window.

“Darcy?” I roll down the window, one hand still in Charlie’s hair. “What are you doing here? Other than interrupting me kissing my love?”

“Oooh, ‘your love?’” Darcy’s dressed in purple dungarees with a blue jumper underneath, their blond hair freshly dyed. “You two are redefining ’slow’, eh, my guys?”

Charlie sighs, kisses me on the cheek and gets out of the car before walking around to join Darcy.

“Yep, and delighted by it,” Charlie says. “Seriously though, why are you at work on a Saturday?”

Darcy holds up a bag of bagels.

“I Green Gophered too well yesterday. Got two bags of these and tubs of cream cheese. Thought you guys could add them to your fuddle.” She eyes the dish of lasagne Charlie is holding. “Ooh, what’s that?”

“Spinach lasagne,” Charlie replies. “I really ought to get going. It’s nearly nine.” He leans through the window  and kisses me one last time. “See you this evening.”

I watch Darcy and Charlie enter the building, Darcy playfully trying to snatch the lasagne dish from my beloved. When they’re finally out of sight, I drive back home, where Mum is waiting for me in my kitchen, making pancakes and fruit salad for breakfast while chatting to a familiar friend.

“A strawberry for the fruit salad, a strawberry for the kitty cat,” Mum says in a sing-song voice as she feeds Indy, who is sitting on the window sill, licking her lips.

“Mum, why are you feeding Indira Gandhi fruit?”

“Because she’s been a good girl who’s kept me company while you’ve been out,” Mum replies. “Such a lovely cat. And very forward. I opened the window to let in some air, and she jumped right in.”

“She’s nosy, and she’s in love with Charlie,” I say by way of explanation, crossing to the window to scratch Indy under her chin. “Plus she knows how to wheedle food out of humans.”

“She’s not the only one in love with Charlie,” Mum says, giving Indy one more piece of fruit before putting the strawberries back in the fridge and taking out a tub of yoghurt. “You are so mad about him.”

“I am,” I admit. “It’s only been a few weeks though. Maybe it’s too fast.”

“Or maybe it’s just right?” Mum flicks the kettle on, as I scoop Indy off the window sill and sit at the table. “You and Charlie fit together perfectly,” Mum says.

Indy purrs her agreement.

“It definitely feels that way.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” Mum is super-observant. I can never hide much from her.

“I suppose I’m worried about getting close to someone again, even though it feels so perfect with Charlie, and I’m worried about… Annie.”

“Annie?”

I tell Mum about seeing Annie at Aldi on Monday, and her mouth opens in shock.

“I can’t believe it,” she says, as she sits down at the table with her cup of tea. Indy jumps from my hands onto Mum’s lap. “All that stuck-up nonsense about making money doing push-ups on the Instabook. Sticking herself with all that skinny jab then stuffing her face with those filling things. Leaving you. Running off to Miami. And now she’s back here, working in Aldi?”

“I don’t know the whys or any details at all, and I don’t think I want to,” I reply. “I just want to focus on my life now… with Charlie.”

“You know it won’t be that simple, baby,” Mum murmurs. “If Annie saw you with Charlie… that girl covets what isn’t hers. And that might be you.”

“I guess we’ll be shopping at a different Aldi,” I mutter.

Mum puts Indy back on my lap and stands up to serve up the pancakes. “If she’s sensible she’ll stay away. I bet Charlie would fight her. He seems rather protective of you already.”

I think about how Charlie was when Harry was being a dick in Pizza Passion, and how he jumped to my side when we saw Annie in Aldi.

“He is,” I agree, my eyes misting over slightly. “I know he’d fight anyone who was mean to me. I’m not sure Annie’s a match for him!”

Mum laughs as she puts the pancakes onto two plates and brings them over. Indy’s head pops up in interest.

“Oh no, missy, no pancakes for you!” Mum chuckles as she turns to bring over the fruit salad, yoghurt and maple syrup. “We’ll finish our breakfast and give you cuddles then, or you can go home and get cuddles and treats from your paw-rents.”

Indy considers her options before leaping off my lap and then jumping up onto the windowsill. With an indignant meow, she disappears out the window. I quickly text Priya to let her know that Indy’s been here, and then turn my attention to breakfast.

“Thanks for this, Mum,” I say as I pile my pancakes with fruit. “You make the best pancakes.” I then reach for the yoghurt. It’s the good stuff, Geyser Company, which I would only buy for special occasions, but Mum won’t eat any other kind. “Lemon flavour. Yum.”

“Your Aunt Diane and I are going to use this 50% offer to book a little spa break,” Mum replies, taking the tub from me. She points to the offer which is advertised on the tub. “AOP Hotels are gorgeous.”

I take the tub to read the offer details, and sigh. In the small print it states that AOP rooms start from £250 a night room only without the offer, which means that even with 50% off, it’s out of my price range. That’s a shame because I’d love to take Charlie on a minibreak. After all, ‘a minibreak means true love.’ I must watch Bridget Jones again with Charlie. Now that I know he likes romcoms too, I’m sure he must love that movie as much as I do.

“Hopefully they’ll run a similar offer next year,” I say. “It’s a good deal but neither Charlie nor I are in a position to afford a holiday right now.”

“You know I’m happy to help you out Nicky—”

“No, Mum.” I shut that thought down quickly. “I’m thirty-seven years old. I’m responsible for this financial mess and for fixing it. Another year of economy, and I’ll be back on track.”

“Okay, baby,” Mum murmurs, before sucking yoghurt off her fork. “The help is there if you need it, but I’m proud of you for taking care of business. Although I squarely blame Annie for the mess, not you.”

“I married her though, didn’t I?” I say with chagrin. “Even though I knew she didn’t love me properly. Not deep down.”

“But you know now, don’t you?” Mum says gently. “It’s not been long, but you’re completely yourself with Charlie, no airs and graces, no pretending. You love him and he loves you…” She looks up to the ceiling. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“How many nights has Charlie stayed with you this week?” Mum asks. “The fridge has two sets of groceries in it. Has he actually slept in his own bed since your Aldi trip on Monday?”

“Um, well, no…”

“Maybe you and he should have a chat…” Mum’s face sparkles and she grins wickedly, like she always does when she has a big, bold idea. “… About living together.”

My cutlery clatters to my plate as her suggestion sinks in.

“Mum, no. It’s too soon. We’ve only been together a few weeks, and as much as I love having him here, he’s only just out of a bad relationship too.” I reach for a cup of tea and take a big gulp, only to realise it’s Mum’s tea, not mine. “Sorry. It’s a good suggestion, just premature.”

Mum leans over and kisses my temple.

“I see where you’re coming from, but when you know, you know.”

“Like you and Dad?” I reply. The words are out before I think and I regret it instantly. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. “Mum, I’m sorry! I–”

Hurt flashes across Mum’s face.

“If you must compare one of your relationships to mine,” she whispers, “compare you and Annie to me and Stephane. A poor replacement for—” She stops herself, then looks away and heaves out a long breath.

“For who, Mum?”

She looks up, blinks and puts on her fake smile, her armour. “Not ‘who’ but ‘what.’ I mean that he was a poor replacement for what Diane and Rich have, or Grandma and Grandpa.” She takes my hands in hers. “I settled for your dad, and you did the same with Annie, wanting stability. To build a home. I will never regret my choices, because you and your brother mean everything to me, but I always wonder what life would have been like if I’d waited for more.”

She’s not wrong.

“I want that stability with Charlie, but I don’t want to rush him,” I admit. “It’s already moving so fast. I don’t want us to crash and burn.”

“You won’t, Nicky,” Mum asserts, reaching over to hold my hand so I know she's forgiven me for what I said. “Charlie’s the real deal. I can feel it in my bones. He’s… what do the kids call it these days… value for money. Yes, Charlie’s value for money. In fact, I think that when it comes to you, he’s priceless.”

-cXc-

Notes:

I'm on my travels in August, so posting will be sporadic and irregular, depending on WIFI access! It is pre-written and beta-read though!
Please subscribe to the story or to my AO3 for updates! Also, thank you in advance for any comments and kudos. They are so very appreciated and make me warm and fuzzy inside, but I have to prioritise writing in my precious free time, which means I'm terrible at replying to comments!