Work Text:
Talk
N: Good morning
N: I love you
N: Sorry I couldn’t talk long last night
N: And that I didn’t call you when I got back. I pretty much passed out.
C: good morning
C: it’s okay Nick I wanted you to have fun at the party
N: I did but I still feel bad
C: you’ll just have to make it up to me then
N: I will
C: how?
N: Aren’t you in class??
C: so
N: I’ll have to think 🤔
N: I have nothing after weight training
N: I can call you then with my plan
C: deal
~
C: i expect sweaty, ripped muscle photos by the way
C: as part of making it up to me
N: 🫡
~
N: Charlie
N: That picture was not appropriate
N: 🥵
C: 😇
N: I want to lick you
C: only four days
C: but you can demonstrate tonight
N: Not the same
N: Heading to the gym now
C: i hope you have a plan for later
C: can’t wait to find out what it is
~
C: nicholas are you serious right now
C: who took that picture of you
N: Bryan. I asked him to.
N: Even though I look like an idiot
C: oh my god no you look so hot
N: I look like a dumb gym bro Charlie
C: like i said. Hot
C: why did you send it to me if you hated it
C: also i would have loved to be there when you asked him to take that picture 🤣
N: I knew you would like it
N: You love watching me to do pull-ups
N: Weirdo
N: And I said I would make it up to you
N: Also he had absolutely no problem taking that picture
C: obviously who wouldn’t want to take a picture of you from behind 🥵
C: thank him for me because your arse looks incredible. and your arms and your shoulders and your fucking back nick
C: and tell him if he sent that picture to himself, i will kill him
N: Please don’t murder my teammates
N: Especially the nice ones who also have boyfriends and are not a threat
C: you’re so sexy
N: I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not
C: you’ll find out soon
~
He woke up feeling guilty about missing their nightly facetime/booty call. He did not pace himself very well at the party, and got roped into a game of beer pong, but he knows Charlie’s flexible with him when it’s an off week, like it is right now.
They’ve been flirting all day which has relieved a lot of the guilt. He’ll think of something sexy to do tonight to make it up to him, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. He still likes to.
Except he leaves weight training feeling really down. After he sent Charlie that picture, it was his turn to work with their conditioning coach, who told him that he’s basically under-performing. Nick didn’t think that was fair; he’s working hard and doing the best he can. But his coach expects more from him this year. They’ve only been back for a month and he’s spent a lot of that time missing Charlie and their routine from the summer, and he’s probably let it get to his head more than he should.
He walks home, instead of taking the bus, to try to give himself some time to shake off the criticism. He hates criticism. Especially when it’s from someone he respects and wants to please. Fucking daddy issues.
Instead of helping, the long walk home gives him even more time to wallow and ruminate. By the time he’s made himself something for dinner and shut the door to his room, the last thing he feels like doing is acting flirty and sexy.
Charlie answers the Facetime with a smile. “Hey, I was just thinking about you,” he says suggestively. “I can’t wait to find out how you’re going to make it up to me.”
“Um…”
Charlie furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”
Nick hesitates. He knows he’s about to disappoint Charlie again, and go without an orgasm for another day, but…
“I need a hug.”
“Baby, what happened?” Charlie says softly.
“Can we just talk?”
Charlie lays down, pulls Kitty up to his chin, and says, “Of course."
Talk
C: got home early
C: waiting for you to get home
C: but i got bored
C: wanna see what i’m doing while i wait?
N: I’m still out with Katie
N: But yes I want to see
C: go to the loo then
“I’ll be right back,” Nick shouts to Katie over the noise at the club.
She rolls her eyes at him. “You guys just cannot keep it in your pants, can you? You’re supposed to be my bodyguard.”
“That’s not– No! It’s just too loud here and I need to tell him something.” He knows she knows that’s not true.
“Uh-huh. Just go. I’m gonna go to the bar and get a drink.”
“Get me one too. I’ll be right back!”
He slips off the dance floor, where she dragged him to get a better look at some guy who had been ogling her.
N: On the way
C: home?
N: No, to the loo. Can I call you there?
C: you can watch the snaps
C: you don’t get to call me until you’re home
C: which will be soon, right? i told you midnight
N: I think we’re getting one more drink.
N: I’m only a little tipsy
N: Katie hasn’t pulled yet either
C: i swear she cannot keep it in her pants
C: midnight wasn’t a suggestion Nick
This is not an off week. Nick already knows that midnight wasn’t a suggestion. Katie knows it, too. He’ll be home by midnight, no matter how lame that makes him, walking home while most people are heading out. Doesn’t matter.
He makes his way into a stall in the loo, where it’s quieter but still loud, and opens the snap Charlie sent him.
Yes, it’s explicit, Charlie’s hand wrapped around his hard dick.
Yes, it’s hot, as it pans up Charlie’s smooth stomach and up to his chest.
Yes, it’s designed to make him want to leave immediately and drop to his knees, begging to watch.
But the thing that catches his eye and steals his focus is not any of that. It’s a cut, across the knuckle of Charlie’s forefinger. It looks like a papercut, only thicker. It’s fresh but not bleeding. It’s clean and bright. It doesn’t belong there.
He didn’t have that cut yesterday. Nick would know; Charlie’s hands were on him yesterday. His fingers were down his throat, then inside him, then holding him down and pinching his biceps. Later, they were wrapped around him, laying on his chest and laced between his own fingers.
N: You cut your hand
C: THAT’S what you noticed???
N: How
C: how what?
N: How did you cut yourself?
C: nick
C: on a box
C: i slid my finger under it to open it
C: that was not what i wanted you to focus on
C: i’m fine
He knows. It’s not that. He knows Charlie’s fine.
N: Can I call you now?
Charlie calls him instead.
“Hi,” Charlie says, a bit of reprimand in his voice. “All that trouble setting up my phone at the right angle and you wanna talk about a cut on my hand?”
“It happened today?”
“Yes, Nick. It happened today. I got home from class, and I was distracted because I was thinking about tonight and what you said you’d wear for me, and I was rushing to open the package because I was running late. Because, once again, I was thinking about what you promised you'd wear for me tonight.”
Nick hesitates. He hates changing plans when they’re on an ‘on’ week, especially when he knows it's something Charlie is looking forward to, that they've planned. But he just can’t do it tonight.
“Yellow, Charlie. I don’t…I’m sorry. I can't. I hate being away from you. You got a cut.” He stares at the back of the metal stall door and tries to hold back the sudden sting of tears. “All I want to do is kiss your cut.”
Charlie sighs loudly into the phone. “It’s time for you to go home. I think you might be more than a little tipsy.”
“I wish you could take me home.”
“I wish I could take you home, too.”
“I miss you.”
Charlie laughs a little. Nick can tell he’s not sure how to react. “I miss you, too. What’s happening? I can’t tell if you’re drunk or if you’re dropping or just weirdly concerned about me getting a paper cut.”
“I need you to hold me.”
“Oh. Okay. Nick, you said yellow. Not red. I don’t know what you want. Do you still want–”
“I really want to talk tonight. Is that okay? Just talk.”
“Of course it’s okay. We can talk. And fall asleep together. Why don’t you go find Katie and tell her you’re leaving. Then call me back when you get home.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you need me to get the train tomorrow?” Nick can tell it's a genuine offer.
“No. I think talking tonight will be enough. I love talking to you.”
“I know.”
Talk
It’s an off-week again, because they both have a lot going on, and because Valentine’s Day is coming up and they’re saving it for then.
Today, he’s got a rugby match at five, and then he’s going to the pub after, and then Charlie has study group, and then they’re hosting a party at the rugby house and he still needs to clean the kitchen, and so they end up on Facetime together at one-fifty, trying to squeeze in a little time in the middle of the day. Otherwise, Nick will most likely be too drunk to do much of anything besides ramble at Charlie and tell him how pretty he is and how much he misses him.
Even though Charlie finds it amusing, it’s usually not what he’s aiming for on a late-night call.
“Get your shirt off,” Charlie says to him, pulling his own off and settling back on the bed.
Nick quickly follows suit. “Pants?” he asks.
“Obviously, Nick.”
“I meant yours.” His are already off.
“And why do you want my pants off? Are you trying to peek?”
“Always.”
Charlie lifts his hips and when he settles back down, his cheeks are flushed.
“You’re gorgeous, Char. You look so good when you want me. Maybe I don’t need to peek.”
Charlie rolls his eyes at him. “Show me,” he demands.
Nick knows what he means. He flips his camera so Charlie can look down at his body and watch him touch himself.
“Want me to flip mine?” Charlie asks, breathless.
“No. I wanna look at your face.”
Charlie smiles at him. “You’re so ridiculous.”
“Shut up or I’ll make you look at my face, too.”
“Oh no,” Charlie snarks. “What a punishment.”
“Shut up,” he says again.
“You shut up. God, why are you so fucking hot?”
Nick slows his hand, teases himself a bit, because he knows Charlie will like it. He’s rewarded with a groan and even more colour in Charlie’s cheeks.
“You look hot, too. I like when—”
The sound of Charlie’s notification interrupts them.
“Oh shit!” Charlie shouts, suddenly. “Fuck. I forgot I have therapy in five minutes! Geoff just sent me the link.”
“What?”
“Fuck. No,” Charlie grumbles, disappointed.
Nick switches his camera around. “What should we do? Can you be late?”
“No!” Charlie shouts. “I can’t get off with you then immediately have a chat with Geoff. He’ll know.”
Nick laughs. “Um, I think he knows we have sex.”
“Shut up! Ugh! How could I forget? This is all your fault. You lured me into this with your sexy arms.”
“Charlie, I was wearing a shirt, until you told me to take it off.”
“Not now. This morning, when you sent me that picture.”
“Oh. Well. I’ll wait for you then.”
“All day? Nick, this was the only time we had.”
Nick pouts. “Oh yeah. What about after the rugby party? I won’t get drunk.”
“Okay. But that means I have to wait until after the rugby party.”
“You don’t if you don’t want to. But it’s not going to kill you to wait a few hours.”
Charlie sighs loudly. “I’ll wait. I mean, we started it together. Kinda feels unfair if I finish it alone.”
Nick snorts a laugh. “Since when?”
“Shut up,” Charlie smirks. “Leave me alone so I can talk about my stress.”
Charlie needs this appointment, he knows that. He didn’t really want him to cancel it. Charlie’s been getting overwhelmed lately.
“Okay,” Nick says, trying to calm his voice. “Go leave me for another man.”
“Ew, gross, Nick.”
Nick laughs. “I love you. I’ll text when I can.”
“I’ll text when I’m done to wish you luck. Don’t get hurt.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Bye.”
~
By the time he’s calling Charlie, it’s 1am and he’s definitely drunk and exhausted. Charlie answers right away.
“Nick, I’ve been waiting forever! I was about to start without you.”
Nick gives Charlie what he knows is a sappy smile. The party is still going on, loud music and loud voices right outside his door. But he’s done with that. All he’s wanted to do for hours now is call Charlie.
“Hi,” he says, all dopey. “You’re pretty.”
Charlie snorts. “You said you weren’t going to get drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Sure. Whatever, just get naked and let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”
Nick clumsily strips down and lays on the bed, but he doesn’t feel like getting off anymore. He just wants to watch Charlie and be in love.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Charlie sighs, and Nick sees his arm start to move.
“Did you have a good day?” he asks.
“Yeah. Better now. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I get why you like this now.” Charlie’s voice is getting breathy.
“I scored at the match. Twice.”
“I know. You already told me. I’m proud of you.”
“Liam jammed his finger really bad. It’s, like, three times the size of normal.”
“That sucks. Show me your chest.”
Nick holds his arm further away so Charlie can see more of him.
“How was your study group? Did Connor come?” Connor has a crush on Charlie, he’s pretty sure. I mean, who wouldn’t?
“Nick.” Charlie says sharply. “Stop talking.”
“I miss you. Wanna know about your day and tell you about my day. I love knowing what happens in your day.” He lolls his head to the side and then says, “Your hair is nice. Did Connor try to touch your hair again? It’s so nice. It's all, like, curly. My fingers fit in your curls."
Charlie heaves a sigh and pauses what he's doing. “No, he didn’t come to study group. Is that what’s going on? Are you upset about him? I haven’t been around him for, like, days.”
“No. Don’t care about that.”
“You’re looking at me weird.”
Nick closes his eyes. “What about now?”
Charlie laughs. “Open your eyes. I take it you’re not in the mood?”
“Sorry. You're too pretty, though. It's distracting."
"Distracting you from getting off over how pretty I am?"
"Can we just talk?”
Charlie sits up and sighs again, before running his hand through his hair. “Yes, Nick. We can just talk. God, you're lucky I love you."
"I am. The luckiest."
Charlie laughs and shakes his head. "You're an idiot. What do you want to talk about?"
Fuck
Nick’s playing arguably the best he’s ever played, in the most important rugby match of the season, and he still feels like shit. Charlie’s here, cheering him on. And all his flatmates. And Katie. And still, it’s not enough. Because his dad is also here, but his dad has spent the entire match staring at his phone instead of watching Nick, even though he came to Leeds, apparently, to visit him.
He should have known it wouldn’t be worth sacrificing an ‘on’ weekend for this. He didn’t want to be in that headspace with his dad visiting. But now he knows that was a mistake. His dad wouldn't have noticed, anyway.
His dad is next to Charlie in the stands, and Nick keeps looking over there, feeling like a little kid. He wants to shout, “Did you see that? Are you watching?” every time he does something good and he knows how stupid that is, but he just can’t help himself. Knowing Charlie’s watching him should be enough. It usually is.
Charlie and his friends are screaming and clapping and chanting. Charlie’s wearing his old jersey from last season, with Nick’s name and number on it, and he even has little stars drawn around his eyes in the team colours, and he looks amazing and happy, and it’s still not enough to stop Nick from looking to his dad, hoping each time that he’ll be looking back. He never is.
When the match is over, Charlie runs out onto the pitch, like he usually does, and Nick grabs him and kisses him and twirls him around, forgetting for a moment how hollow he feels. When his dad comes down to join them, though, the joy gets sucked right back out of him.
“Nicholas, congratulations, that was a good match.”
Charlie is holding his hand tightly, which gives Nick the courage to say, “Yeah? I wasn’t sure you actually watched any of it. You were on your phone the whole time.”
Stephane bristles at that. “Well, you know, the world doesn’t stop when you play rugby. You should be watching the pitch, anyway, not looking in the stands for your friends.” Then he cuts his eyes to Nick and Charlie’s hands, joined between them, the word ‘friends’ hanging uncomfortably in the air.
Charlie pulls him closer and puts an arm around his waist. “You did amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
Nick smiles at him sadly, heart fluttering a bit at Charlie calling him that in front of his dad. They’re never truly ‘off’ anymore. Not since he got his tattoo. Nick thinks Charlie’s trying to remind him of that. “Thanks, Charlie.”
His dad clears his throat. “Yes. Well, I’ll need to leave right away. Sorry, I won’t be able to take you boys to dinner after all. Something came up with the paperwork and I have to straighten it out. I can’t be coming all the way to Leeds again just to sign papers!” He laughs, as if coming to Leeds another time is a ridiculous thought.
Of course, Nick thinks. There was a deal and that’s why he’s here. He’s not sure why he thought his dad was here to see him. He’s just a convenient after-thought.
“Whatever,” Nick says. “It’s fine.”
“I’ll take you out to dinner,” Charlie says quickly.
Stephane pulls out his wallet and holds out a one hundred-pound note. “My treat.”
Nick doesn’t take it, so Charlie says, “Or we don’t have to go to dinner if you don’t want. We can order in? We can go to the pub with your mates?”
“Take it for whatever you do,” Stephane says.
Charlie looks over at Nick, who still doesn’t want to take the money. Charlie takes it instead. “Thanks. We’ll be sure to put it to good use.”
Nick just wants to get out of here. “I’m gonna go shower. Bye, dad. Thanks for coming.”
His dad’s already texting someone, though, and then puts up a finger in an ‘excuse me’ gesture, and steps away, answering a call.
Charlie pulls Nick back forcibly when he tries to turn to leave, and fists his hands in Nick’s jersey, and kisses him hard. Nick is surprised, but he lets Charlie kiss him. He can hear his teammates wolf-whistle at them, and the referees asking everyone to kindly get off the pitch, and finally Charlie releases him. He smoothes out his jersey and pats him on the chest.
“Go shower, baby,” he says to him softly. “I’ll be here waiting for you. Then we can go home and cuddle and talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
~
By the time they’re back in Nick’s room, Charlie has entered full-on coddling/aftercare/ drop prevention mode. He’s already ordered food from Nick’s favourite delivery place. He’s been holding his hand or touching him every second since he left the locker room. He’s been chatting to him about random shit, obviously trying to keep him distracted and engaged in conversation. He’s heaping praise on him, telling him how good he played, and how proud he was, and how everyone was cheering for him.
It's too much. “Char,” Nick says, collapsing onto the bed. “Charlie. Come here.”
“Let me just get you some water. Where’s the remote for the TV? Do you wanna watch Baking Show? Or 'What We Do In the Shadows'? Or just talk? Or do you want to take a nap?”
“Charlie.” Nick pulls Charlie into him, face to face, and nuzzles down into his neck. “Don’t wanna watch TV.”
“Whatever you want, Nick. Wanna nap together until the food comes? It’s still going to be a while. I can get you a snack while we wait?”
Nick starts to mouth at Charlie’s neck.
“Or we can just cuddle? That’s good, too. Want me to take my shirt off?”
Nick smiles into Charlie’s skin, then drifts his hand down to hike up Charlie’s shirt. “You look so hot with my jersey on.”
Charlie inhales sharply. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Nick rolls Charlie over onto his back and hovers over him. He pushes the jersey up, but not off. Just far enough to expose Charlie’s stomach.
Elle taught Charlie how to wax himself last summer, when she was home, and now Charlie’s stomach is smooth and hairless. After he got over the initial surprise, he mourned the loss of Charlie’s treasure trail. Once he discovered that Charlie had waxed everywhere, though, he was right back on board. It made Charlie so much more sensitive, and eating him out was like a brand new experience, for them both.
He nuzzles his face into Charlie’s stomach, kissing and dragging his lips against him, until Charlie lets out a deep sigh and puts his hands in Nick’s hair.
“I thought you might want to talk?” Charlie asks, unsure if he should let Nick continue.
Nick shakes his head against Charlie’s skin. “Don’t want to talk.”
“Oh.”
Nick looks up. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. I just…you’re confusing sometimes, that’s all.” Charlie pets his head and runs his thumb over Nick’s eyebrows. “I love you to death.”
Nick smiles. “I know. That’s why I don’t want to talk. I just want to love you.”
Nick keeps moving down, until he hits the waistband of Charlie’s jeans, and then he removes them and picks up where he left off, before taking Charlie into his mouth.
“Oh god, Nick,” Charlie sighs, arching back in pleasure. His hands are still in Nick’s hair, but he’s not controlling him at all. It seems like he’s still a bit unsure about what Nick wants.
Nick can’t have that. He releases Charlie and continues his journey, taking his balls into his mouth, one at a time, before going even lower, massaging Charlie’s thighs while he starts licking around his hole.
“Wait,” Charlie says, after a moment. He pulls Nick up, over top of him, for a kiss. “This is so much better than going to some stuffy, uncomfortable dinner with your dad, isn’t it?”
“So much better,” he agrees. “I’d rather be here with you over anything else.” He tries to go back to his favourite- second favourite?- spot, between Charlie's legs, but Charlie isn't finished talking to him yet.
“Plus,” Charlie says playfully, “We have an extra hundred quid to spend on things he’ll disapprove of. I’m gonna buy you more lace boxers.”
Nick kisses Charlie, hands on his face, while Charlie’s legs lock around his waist.
“Wanna buy you the world, Charlie. Everything you could ever want.” He doesn't want to talk anymore.
“Just you,” Charlie says, pulling Nick’s hips down into his. “Just want you.”
“I’m all yours.” He sits up, reaches over into his nightstand drawer, and takes out his bracelet, handing it to Charlie wordlessly.
After Charlie’s put it on him, he gives him a searching look. “You really don’t want to talk?” he checks again. “You’d rather…” Charlie tightens his legs around Nick’s waist and uses it as leverage to rock their bodies together.
Nick moans. “I’d rather fuck. Yes. I really don’t want to talk. Just want you. You’re the only thing I ever need.” He needs a reminder, sometimes, apparently. Charlie is all he'll ever need, though.
“Well, then.” Charlie drops his legs onto the bed and spreads them wide, planting his feet on the mattress. “Carry on.”
Nick does. He carries on and on and on, taking a break to eat their food when it gets delivered, before he carries on some more, until they’re both exhausted.
“I’m so glad you didn’t want to talk,” Charlie pants, while they’re eating the cold leftovers of their dinner, hours later.
He did talk, though. He didn’t use words, just now, but he talked. And Charlie talked. And then listened. Like he always does. It doesn’t matter how Nick wants to talk to him, Charlie always listens.
“I always want to talk with you.”
Charlie kisses him deeply. “I always want to talk with you, too, baby. Always.”