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Nick and Charlie have been dating for four years, and their relationship with intimacy has seen such a beautiful progression over that time. The trust and care and pure love they have for each other makes their intimate moments all the more special, more fulfilling. Charlie was so glad when they took that step together as teenagers, comfortable to try new things and communicate what feels good, and simply be close in a brand new way. Now, it’s a completely natural part of their lives.
Having sex with Nick is lovely. But there’s still something about making out that sends Charlie reeling.
He knows Nick feels the same way. They did a lot of making out when they first started dating. It was exhilarating — Charlie finally getting to enjoy being with someone who actually treated him with the respect he deserved, and Nick stepping into his identity with Charlie by his side; they couldn’t get enough of each other.
If he’s honest, they still can’t. He hopes that rush is something that remains at the forefront of their relationship for a very long time.
Nick is currently visiting Charlie at uni for the weekend and they’ve been nursing minor hangovers all day from the evening before. They’ve definitely had worse, but decided to lay low anyway, holed up in Charlie’s room throughout the afternoon, napping and rehydrating.
Ten minutes ago, Charlie had been scrolling mindlessly on his phone while Nick played some video game he couldn’t remember the name of, when he caught a glimpse of his boyfriend’s profile and suddenly needed to kiss his lights out. So he had pushed away Nick’s Switch controller and simply said, “Do you wanna make out?” Nick had practically pounced on him in response, both of them landing in a giggling heap on Charlie’s bed and kissing with abandon.
Now, Nick is lazily sucking on his ear, which he knows drives Charlie crazy.
“Oh my god,” Charlie huffs, voice a bit strained with pleasure.
“God, I love you,” Nick murmurs, before biting Charlie’s earlobe. He soothes the spot with his lips and tongue, then asks, “Have you ever thought about getting a piercing?”
Interesting . It has crossed Charlie’s mind before, but he’s never brought it up. “Only fleetingly.”
“You’d look so sexy,” Nick tells him, his forefinger and thumb fiddling with Charlie’s earlobe.
Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’d be getting it on my ear?”
The way his boyfriend all but short circuits in response is nothing short of delightful. Before he can ask any follow up questions, Charlie brings Nick’s attention back by asking, “What about you?”
It takes a moment for Nick to process what Charlie’s asking, but then he replies, “You think I could pull off an earring?”
Charlie pulls back a touch further, tilting his head and looking at Nick’s face carefully, thoughtfully. “...Maybe.”
Nick pinches his side and Charlie squeaks a laugh. They fall back into a deep kiss and get lost in it for a few moments, lips sliding together, unhurried and effortless. Eventually, Nick pulls away but remains close, his heavy breath ghosting against the corner of Charlie’s mouth. He lightly presses his lips there and whispers, “I think I could kiss you forever.”
Charlie’s entire body melts into the mattress, Nick’s words a blanket of reassurance. His hands skim gently up and down Nick’s arms, a soothing motion to ground himself, and he replies with a grin, “So do it, then.”
At which point Nick bites his lip and smiles back, causing Charlie’s gaze to drop directly to his mouth.
Before he can do anything about it, Nick purposefully tilts Charlie’s head back with a finger under his chin, exposing his neck and leaning in close. He doesn’t kiss him yet, though, just faintly skims his lips back and forth against Charlie’s skin, stoking the flame that’s steadily beginning to kindle between them. Charlie is about to speak, to beg Nick to stop teasing, but before he can, he feels Nick’s tongue flatten and drag up the side of his neck, like he’s licking melted ice cream from a cone. A hitched breath escapes Charlie, and his body angles up to chase Nick’s warm mouth.
When he finally feels Nick’s lips press against his skin with wet, open mouth kisses, Charlie’s hands land on his shoulders, clinging to steady himself. Nick’s lips cover the expanse of Charlie’s neck, slowly descending with a practised ease and making Charlie feel all fuzzy inside. He lets his eyes flutter closed while the sensation takes over his body, once again left to question how and why the simple press of lips can give him such pleasure.
For a moment, Nick pauses and pulls back to say, “This good?” His voice is gravely and laced with a familiar mirth.
Charlie can’t help but roll his eyes in response. With a shaky exhale, he breathes, “Fuck off.” He tilts his head further back and buries a hand in Nick’s hair, guiding him closer to continue. “You know it is.”
He hears the quiet hum of Nick’s laughter before he returns to that same patch of skin on Charlie’s neck that he so often frequents, just beyond the hinge of his jaw. Because of Nick’s fixation with it, Charlie has become decently handy with makeup, unwilling to give up the toe-curling satisfaction of Nick sucking marks where they can’t be hidden by clothes.
Nick isn’t quite leaving a mark now, though. His mouth applies just enough pressure to make Charlie shiver, but doesn’t tug or pinch his skin. It feels fucking delightful; Charlie wouldn’t be upset if Nick devoted the better part of his evening to maintaining that perfect, delectable balance.
Charlie also notices the faint scratch of Nick’s stubble, which tends to start peeking out more noticeably towards the end of the day. Nick recently mentioned that he might start growing out his facial hair. While he had asked for Charlie’s opinion — “You’re going to notice it every time we kiss… which, as you know, is a lot…” — all Charlie could do was encourage Nick to make whatever decision he wanted. Whether he shaved every day or tried out a thicker beard, it didn’t matter to Charlie in the slightest, so long as he was the one Nick was kissing.
As if he can hear Charlie’s thoughts, Nick moves on from his neck, dotting barely-there kisses across Charlie’s cheek until he lands back at his lips. Charlie breathes deep through his nose and welcomes the way Nick completely envelops him, the heady desire behind each kiss a reminder of how precious these private moments are between them.
Charlie truly meant it when he said he wouldn’t mind not having sex if Nick didn’t want to — why would that even be a problem when their kisses felt like this? For Charlie, it’s as if they’ve stolen away to capture a prized possession, like what they’re doing is sacred and reserved only for a select few.
Measured and skilled and just about every other positive adjective you can think of, Nick captures Charlie’s bottom lip, and then the top, with the most addicting kisses. Nevermind the fact that neither of them have taken the time to catch their breath. There’s no point, really, considering they’d both rather be literally kissed breathless, as long as it’s together.
When Charlie slips his hand into Nick’s hair and opens his mouth, he is rewarded with the most gorgeous, high pitched sound as their tongues brush together.
He indulges his boyfriend with a heated kiss for an extra second, then pulls away, unable to stop himself from saying, “Fuck, I love it when you whine.”
Nick ducks his head a little, the blush on his cheeks deepening, but Charlie isn’t having any of it. “I mean it,” he insists, offering a small smile that he hopes comes off as genuine as it’s intended. He reaches for Nick’s face and pulls him back into a kiss, slow and deep, then looks him in the eyes. “I love hearing you let go.” Charlie nudges their noses together and slides his hands to the back of Nick’s head, playing with the short hairs there. His lips graze Nick’s as he speaks. “Love knowing you feel good.”
“Of course I do,” Nick breathes. The hand he has on Charlie’s waist tightens, then slips under his shirt, his warm palm settling there easily. “It’s you. Why wouldn’t I?”
Caught up in the moment, Charlie simply holds Nick’s gaze, admiring every bit of sincerity he’s sharing. Meanwhile, Nick’s free hand moves up to Charlie’s face and his thumb drags lightly over his slick bottom lip. He pauses for a moment and then adds a bit more pressure, like he’s marking the exact spot he plans to press his lips with the pad of his thumb — and then does just that. Charlie has to resist the urge to pull Nick’s thumb into his mouth where it’s still slightly caught between them.
This time, Nick is the one to lick into Charlie’s mouth. Their tongues meet languidly, first in Charlie’s mouth, then Nick’s. Nick is still letting out needy little moans with each kiss; it’s music to Charlie’s ears. He kisses Charlie like he wants to map out the inside of his mouth — every inch. He cradles Charlie’s face and his spit-slick thumb brushes against his cheek, leaving a cool trail in its wake.
Charlie’s hands roam across Nick’s back, pressing their bodies closer; he adores the way he can feel Nick’s muscles move through his t-shirt. They’ve largely been ignoring where their hips are pressed together, taking their time to indulge without any rush to a finish line. So when Charlie allows his hands to drift lower, he simply dips his fingertips under the waistband of Nick’s pants, and then lightly scrapes his nails up his back, beneath his shirt, feeling a pleasant shudder from Nick in response as he kisses him harder. Perhaps at this point it would make sense for them to start removing some clothes, but neither of them seem to mind all that much.
For as long as Charlie has known him, Nick has been dedicated to lavishing him with attention, with love — with whatever he wants, really. Of course Charlie does the same for Nick; it’s a very successful two-way street. But when they’re together like this, so intimate and close, it’s like something else unlocks inside Nick. It’s as if the very particles of his being were created to please Charlie, to bring him to the edge and fill his cup to the brim and indulge him however possible.
The truth is, there was a point in Charlie’s life when it was nearly impossible for him to imagine this for himself. A time when people would call him disgusting and he thought his only option to survive was to believe them. To believe that he didn’t deserve anything, or any one, good.
Now, though, Nick’s generosity over the years has made up for it multiple times over. And Charlie is more than happy to drown in it, letting the raging waters carry him out to sea, revelling in the fact that nobody besides him gets to be kissed by Nick Nelson.
Charlie manoeuvres them both on their sides so they’re facing each other and reaches for the hand Nick has on his face. His eyes remain closed at first, breathing heavily and kissing the middle of Nick’s palm before moving down to his wrist. Charlie opens his eyes to meet Nick's as his tongue peeks out to chase the taste of his boyfriend’s fluttering pulse. It’s noticeably hammering, and Charlie watches Nick’s eyes widen with lust when he gives the spot the slightest nip with his teeth.
“Char,” Nick softly whimpers. He clutches at the fabric of Charlie’s shirt, guiding him closer, and their legs slot together like puzzle pieces. Charlie follows the momentum and rolls on top of Nick, still clutching his wrist, holding it up beside his head on the mattress and grabbing his other hand to do the same on the opposite side. Charlie’s grip tightens when their hips collide, but it’s not enough to derail him.
It’s his turn now to lavish Nick.
When Charlie glances down at him, he notices Nick’s hair is quite tousled from when he was kissing Charlie’s neck, his fringe brushing against the pillow beneath him and causing it to stick up in different directions. It’s so fucking cute.
“You are…” Charlie begins, pausing to press a kiss to Nick’s forehead, then lips. He lingers there for a moment, sighing into his mouth when Nick changes the angle of the kiss and sends Charlie’s head spinning. Before he pulls away, he sucks on Nick’s tongue in a way that borders on obscene, just to hear that delicious whine again. It obviously works. Charlie lets out a triumphant noise and finally breathes against Nick’s mouth, “So fucking pretty after you’ve been kissed.”
Charlie latches on to the skin of Nick’s neck and lets himself get lost in it. He can feel every point of contact where they’re touching — from his wrists to his chest, down to where Nick’s leg wraps around his, his heel mindlessly dragging against the back of Charlie’s leg. Charlie loves it, loves when they’re pressed so close they’re practically fused, bodies slowly grinding in a familiar rhythm. But the air in his room has turned heavy and thick and he’s starting to get warm, so he begrudgingly detaches himself to take off Nick’s cosy jumper.
Charlie sits up in Nick’s lap and pulls the garment over his head, leaving him in a faded t-shirt, boxers, and socks. Nick waits patiently, all red faced and gorgeous, with his hands on Charlie’s thighs. He mindlessly toys with the hemline of his boxers, sneaking his fingertips underneath and tracing random patterns. Charlie eyes him warningly as he drops the jumper on the floor, but Nick takes it all in stride. He slips his hand out and instead uses a finger to spell out the word “hi” and then makes a love heart against Charlie’s knee.
Of course, it draws a genuine smile out of Charlie. “Hi, silly,” he chides, lovingly. He smooths a hand down Nick’s chest, admiring the rise and fall of Nick’s breath under his palm, and eventually teases the spot where the bottom of his shirt has ridden up, exposing the trail of hair at his tummy. Charlie swipes his thumb over the area and then bends down to press his lips there, all while still gazing up at Nick. He’s pleased to see Nick’s crinkly smile in response, as well as hear his quiet, melodic laugh.
“What are you doing down there, hm?” Nick muses.
“Oh, nothing.” Charlie kisses back up Nick’s chest, over the fabric of his shirt, until he returns to where he started, in the safe, welcoming crook of Nick’s neck. “Was just visiting."
“Good,” Nick declares. His roaming hands land at the small of Charlie’s back and he pouts. “Missed you.”
Charlie pretends not to be charmed (and is pretty sure he fails spectacularly) and decides to waste no time picking up where he left off.
Right away, Charlie can’t help himself from nipping at the perfectly pale skin of Nick’s throat, feeling the vibration of Nick’s groan under his tongue and through his chest. He bruises much more easily than Charlie, so they’re usually careful, but the slow build is getting the best of him. He releases one of Nick’s hands to tug the collar of his shirt out of the way, sparing him from a noticeable mark in favour of biting at his collarbone with more effort. Nick is practically squirming beneath him as Charlie sucks a kiss there. His free hand combs through Charlie’s curls, fingers delicate and soothing while massaging his scalp. Sometimes, Charlie will look in the mirror after they’ve been together, and while he’s been known to constantly set about fixing his hair, he’s learned to quite enjoy the phantom traces of Nick’s hands that have rearranged the way his curls sit.
Once Charlie feels confident he’s left a successful love bite, his lips and tongue travel back up Nick’s neck, leaving sucking kisses across his jaw, and makes his way to the corner of Nick’s mouth. When Nick leans up to close the distance between them, Charlie rears back just out of reach, wanting to prolong things a little longer. In good spirits, Nick lifts an eyebrow and delivers a crooked smile, no doubt enjoying Charlie’s teasing. Charlie then leans down slowly, their soft breath mingling, and watches as Nick closes his eyes again, ready to be kissed. At the moment when their lips make the faintest contact, Charlie veers to the opposite side of Nick’s neck and continues his path there.
“Honey,” Nick huffs around a strained laugh, as he drops his head back, and his hands forge a tighter grip on Charlie’s waist.
Charlie merely giggles and continues kissing the spot right below Nick’s ear, enjoying how the heat of Nick’s blush spreads under his lips.
It’s when Charlie decides to capture the lobe of Nick’s ear between his lips, licking and sucking at it as he grinds his hips down with more purpose, that he finally loses the upper hand. Nick groans playfully and gathers Charlie in his arms, holding him steady as he flips them over. As soon as Nick is settled back over him, he kisses Charlie desperately, swallowing the chuckle that sneaks out.
Charlie flings his arms around Nick’s shoulders, clutching tightly, and thinks, Fair enough. He can only take so much teasing, too, and would rather keep kissing his lovely boyfriend.
Nick drags his knuckles under Charlie’s shirt, past his ribs, until the shirt falls back down, but he continues upward until he skims Charlie’s nipple over his shirt, causing him to lightly gasp into Nick’s mouth.
“Not that it really matters what I think,” Nick begins, before adding more pressure to his touch and clearly enjoying Charlie’s reaction, “but I fully support any piercing you wanna get.”
Charlie smirks and hums in agreement. “Well, that settles it.” He uses the tip of his pointer finger to trace along Nick’s jaw. “You grow a beard and I’ll get a few piercings. New and improved Nick and Charlie, yeah?”
Instead of replying, Nick’s gaze gets softer and just continues to lovingly stare at Charlie for a few seconds.
Eventually Charlie asks, “What?”
“It’s just — I wouldn’t say ‘new and improved,’” Nick clarifies. He flashes a beaming grin and says, “You’re already the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”
Charlie simply closes his eyes and welcomes the smile on his face that can’t help fighting through. He shakes his head and says, “Get your eyes checked, Nick.”
They both laugh as Nick shuts him up with another kiss.