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There are so many things in Nick's life that he regrets. He regrets not standing up for himself against David sooner, not standing up for Charlie in front of his friends sooner, for even being friends with people like that in the first place. He doesn't think he has space in his life to regret anything else.
Not to mention he does his best to live nowadays in a way he doesn’t have to.
But making a bet with Charlie on who could go longer without touching the other... Yeah. He’ll admit it.
He's starting to regret that quite a bit.
-
The blame lies on Charlie.
Specifically, the blame lies on the current Charlie, who’s curled up under Nick’s arm as the two of them lie on the bed, resting his phone on Nick’s chest as he scrolls through it. Nick has Charlie’s Switch in his hand, finally touching his Animal Crossing island for the first time in months. Charlie’s always on his case for not meeting up with his villagers often, but Nick’s always favored losing himself in something that didn’t require his brain actively trying to figure out things like island aesthetics.
“Nellie looks cute here,” Charlie says. “In your Instagram post.”
“You’re cuter,” Nick says absentmindedly, bringing Charlie closer to him. Fuck, his island is full of weeds. Maybe he should have checked on it more often.
Charlie kisses his cheek approvingly. “Such a flatterer. What ever would I do without you?”
“Probably get less of my hugs,” Nick says.
“And he’s funny. But that does remind me of something. You wanna know what Tao told me the other day?”
“Hm?”
“He said that he thinks you would die if you didn’t hug me every day.”
Nick looks away from the Switch screen to raise an eyebrow at Charlie. “I’m the one who would die?”
“I mean, it’s not like you’re not proving his point right now,” Charlie says teasingly.
Nick scoffs. “You’re literally no better.”
Charlie looks at him mischievously, leaning in until his curls brush against Nick’s forehead. “You wanna bet?”
“Do you?” Nick asks.
Charlie shrugs. “Why not? I think it could be fun. And it’s not like we have anything better to do.”
Nick rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Charlie isn’t wrong, he supposes. They’re on summer break, so they don’t have things like exams or schoolwork keeping them busy. But because school’s out, they’re spending more and more time together. What exactly are they going to do if they didn’t spend time together exactly like this?
“What do you say?” Charlie asks.
Nick is used to Charlie’s competitive streak, and knows exactly how Charlie gets when an idea starts to form in his head. He sighs. “What would the terms be?”
Charlie makes a thoughtful expression. “Well, obviously, we wouldn’t be allowed to hug until the bet is over.”
Nick grimaces. That already sounds like something he doesn’t want to do. “What about other kinds of touches? Like holding your hand? Can I do that?”
“Not sure,” Charlie says contemplatively. “I feel like it’s all a slippery slope if we even start to touch. For you, I mean. Not me.”
“Right. Obviously,” Nick says with an eye roll. “No kissing?”
“Too dangerous.”
“Side hugs?”
“Same thing as regular hugs.”
“Napping together.”
“Tempting, but what if we start to hug in our sleep? There’s precedence for that, you know.”
“Pinkies touching.”
“Now you’re just saying things.”
“So no touching at all?” Nick clarifies. “At all? Think about this, Charlie.”
“It’s just safer that way. To maximize your chances of winning.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Glad you can see where I’m coming from,” Charlie says with a nod.
“And what happens if you lose?”
“I won’t.”
Nick rolls his eyes. “But if you do?”
Charlie hums. He says slowly, as if thinking of the idea while he speaks, “How about... If I lose... which won't happen, mind you... I’ll... return all your clothes? Yeah. I think that’s a fair deal.”
Nick blinks. “How much of my clothes do you have, exactly?”
Charlie pats Nick’s chest. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out if you win. And if you lose, I can keep them.”
“I’m already letting you keep them, technically speaking,” Nick points out.
“Don’t spoil the fun. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“I don’t think you’re using that phrase in the right context.”
Despite his words, though, Nick won’t lie and say the bet isn’t intriguing. Charlie’s face gets really cute when he loses, especially if it’s something he’s dead set on winning. Even if Charlie just thinks he’s going to lose, he gets all pouty and grumpy and all-in-all a person that Nick gets an immense amount of enjoyment from being around. More so than usual. Nick wouldn’t be opposed to seeing it at all.
It’s not an often sight, either. The bet in itself was fairly harmless, too. Easily doable.
“So? Do we have a deal?” Charlie asks then. He pulls back from Nick’s hold completely until they aren’t touching each other anymore and holds out a hand. “No touching or physical contact at all. First one to crack loses.”
Nick raises an eyebrow. “You want to shake on it? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the not-touching thing?”
“It can be like one last touch for the road.”
“You are so weird,” Nick says fondly, shaking Charlie’s hand anyways.
“You like me weird,” Charlie says.
“I love you weird,” Nick agrees. He lets Charlie’s hand go and leans in, close enough that their lips are just shy of touching. “And I’ll love you even if you lose miserably.”
Charlie grins.
-
There’s this one fun fact about Charlie that Nick holds in his mental encyclopedia: A retelling of a childhood story while Charlie is gloating over his two hundred and sixty-seventh win in Mario Kart.
(“I literally can’t believe you’re keeping count,” Nick says, a mix of incredulous and impressed.
Charlie scoffs. “Someone has to.”)
“You know,” Charlie starts. “I used to be such a sore loser.”
“Used to be.”
“Oh, shut up,” Charlie laughs. “If you think I’m bad now, I used to be way worse. Back when Tori and I used to play on the DS, I would pop the game chip out the second she started pulling ahead. It used to make her so mad. She actually refused to play with me for years after that.”
“Why can I envision that so clearly?” Nick asks. He can’t really relate to this himself. He’s never been a huge video game person, but he can imagine a tiny Charlie stomping furiously as the Mario Kart highlights show a blue shell hitting him at the last second.
Nick, even to his own surprise sometimes, isn’t like that at all. He isn't even close to the most competitive person he knows. Sure, he likes trying to one-up his date ideas every time it’s his turn to pick what they do, but even as a sportsperson, a rugby lad, he’s always believed in just having fun in the moment. It’s worked for him so far, so it’s not really something he feels the need to change about himself, either.
But with Charlie as competitive as he is, Nick doesn’t have a chance if he doesn’t do something. He also kind of wants his clothes back.
It’s fine.
Nick can meet Charlie where he is. He’s not worried.
-
Charlie makes his move first. It’s his turn to plan the date they should go on, and all he had done that morning was tell Nick to wear something warmer and send a location over text with no other context.
Searching up the place tells Nick it’s an ice-skating rink, which does explain the request for warmer clothes. But still. Nick has no idea where Charlie is going with this.
Until he gets to the rink, and he knows exactly what Charlie has been planning.
Because Charlie... is dressed up. Not in a suit, or anything. But in winter clothes. There are at least several layers happening, a beanie on Charlie’s head that highlights the curls peeking out from them, a thick scarf that covers Charlie’s mouth so only his eyes and nose are visible.
Even when they’re inside the ice skating rink, it’ll probably be too hot to really be dressed up as warmly as Charlie, but Nick knows Charlie is nothing if not dedicated to the cause. Nick feels his heartbeat start to quicken. Charlie looks so cute. How is Nick not supposed to want to hug him and press his face against Charlie’s shoulders?
“Charlie,” Nick says, throat so completely dry. Nick wants to shake him. And then kiss him furiously. It’s already been a few days since the bet has started, and it’s been a good while since Nick has gone this long without even touching Charlie.
Charlie just hums knowingly, the bastard. “Yes, my love?”
Nick sucks in a breath. Okay. Game time. Maybe Charlie looks soft and cute and absolutely huggable right now, but Nick is experienced at this. He’s immune to Charlie’s inherent adorableness and abnormally high cuddle-ability factor. Completely immune to Charlie looking like a kissable marshmallow. Play it cool, Nick Nelson. Don’t let him know he’s getting to you.
“I’m,” Nick starts.
Unaffected.
“In love with you.”
God damn it.
Charlie smiles sweetly, cheeks turning pink, and it’s more endearing than anything else. Everything about Charlie always is. “Why, Nicholas Nelson. I have to say I am quite in love with you, too.”
Nick can still save this. “In love with me enough to want to hug me?”
Charlie’s smile gets wider. “Don’t push your luck.”
-
“I didn’t even know places like this were open in the summer,” Nick says, holding onto the handle bars like a lifeline as they step onto the ice.
“I had to do a little research,” Charlie shrugs. His eyes shine with laughter as he says, “But I think it was worth it, don’t you?”
“Laugh it up now,” Nick warns. “I’ll get you back for this.”
“Mhm,” Charlie agrees unconvincingly. “I’m looking forward to it,” he says, taking a step back from Nick and skating down the rink. He turns his head to look at Nick, sticking his tongue out.
Which, cute, if only Nick didn’t start flailing the second he lets go of the bars to try and catch up. “Wait— Charlie, come back! I can’t skate as well as you! Charlie!”
-
Two can play that game, though.
There are several things Nick has realized since Charlie has joined the rugby team. Everything leading up to his bisexual realization aside, one of the most important realizations is this: Charlie likes him after a rugby match. More specifically, he likes seeing Nick right after a rugby match, when Nick is still breathing heavily from the exertion of running around a field, sweat dripping down his forehead. Nick always feels gross and in need of a shower, but for some reason, Charlie’s kisses are especially frantic during those moments.
Now, Charlie’s never said explicitly that he likes this look on Nick. But he doesn’t have to. Nick has eyes, and what they tell him is that no matter how much Charlie teases him for smelling like dirt and sweat, he always loops his arms around Nick’s neck and pulls him down so that their lips can meet.
And Nick, like the loving boyfriend he is, will be exploiting that weakness to his own advantage.
Summertime means that Nick has an advantage. He puts his plan into action a day later.
Step 1. Get Charlie to come.
Nick: Come over today? Let’s watch a movie :)))
charlie: lame
charlie: what happened to ur plan to get back at me??
Nick: Welllllllll if u don't want to come just say so
charlie: will be there in an hour xx gimme ur worst
Easy.
Step 2. Everything else.
He switches out his shirt for a tank top, and to get the Sweaty Look, runs up and down the block a few times. He pretends he doesn’t see one of the neighbors stare at him through the window.
It’s also not his smartest move, considering how easily he burns on top of the fact that he left the house without any sunscreen, but he manages to get sweaty enough just after a few laps, before his skin starts to really redden.
Just in time, too.
The doorbell rings nearly two minutes later, once Nick is back inside and perfecting his Look, so to speak. Quickly, Nick eyes his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair to mess it up a little.
Then, he opens the door, casually leaning up against the wall.
“Hi,” Nick says.
Charlie takes him in. Really takes him in. As in, Nick watches Charlie’s eyes trail up and down his body several times. It’s rather gratifying, watching Charlie’s blush get deeper and deeper.
Nick grins. Revenge is sweet.
“You’re evil,” Charlie says finally, sliding past Nick and walking towards the living room. “You are so, so evil. I hope you get sweat stains on the couch.”
Nick follows him, waiting until Charlie turns back to face him before running a hand through his hair, very artfully. He sees Charlie follow the movement. “That’s so gross.”
Charlie huffs. “You are gross. I’m sitting away from you,” he says, sitting on one end of the couch.
Nick waggles his eyebrows, taking a seat on the other side. “So you aren’t tempted by my ruggish good looks?”
Charlie flushes and rolls his eyes. “As if. It’s so I don’t smell you.”
“Just for that, we’re watching Infinity War,” Nick says, leaning over to the table to get the remote.
His plan doesn’t work in the end, because Charlie is steadfastly sitting on the other half of the couch and refuses to even inch closer. But Nick does see Charlie staring multiple times out of the corner of his eye, so he’s content to count this, at the very least, as a partial win.
-
Charlie starts wearing Nick’s clothes, as if he knows it’s Nick’s Achilles’ heel.
Actually, no.
Charlie is probably very aware of that.
“You don’t have to try so hard to trip me up,” Nick says to him, once. He nearly pokes at the thick, dark material of the jumper Charlie’s wearing, but stops himself at the last second. “Take it off, already. I don’t want you to get heatstroke wearing this.”
It’s only half of the concern, if he’s being honest, because Charlie isn’t trying hard at all to trip Nick up but it’s still working.
“It’s not that hot,” Charlie denies.
“I can’t believe you are trying to lie to me right now,” Nick says, incredulously, the immediate response of YOU’RE that hot bitten back at just the right second. “You have the sleeves rolled up and you’re sweating, Charlie.”
Charlie squints like he has no idea what he’s talking about. “Nick, I think you might want to get your eyes checked out. Is the heat getting to you?” He asks, voice thick with false concern.
Nick’s resolve isn’t strong enough for this.
-
A short— but growing— list of increasingly horrible, terrible, completely devastating memories of the last few days of Charlie in Nick’s clothing that Nick feels completely normal about:
1. Large trousers that he has to tie the drawstrings to and roll the legs up on. It would have been comical if Nick wasn’t running on a Charlie-deprived existence.
2. Nick’s tank top, another item large enough on Charlie’s frame that it pools around his mid-thigh. But if Nick’s trousers covered all of Charlie, the tank top created the opposite problem. There’s just... so much skin. And that’s enough said on that.
3. Nick’s pajama set. There’s a story behind this one: The both of them had chosen pajama sets for each other as an impromptu gift while they were window shopping together after a lunch date. Nick had chosen a white set for Charlie with little rainbows, while Charlie had picked out a pale blue one with pug doodles etched on it. Looking at Charlie right now, though, Nick wonders if maybe he should have chosen this print for Charlie instead.
A conclusion that Nick probably doesn’t need this short but growing list to realize:
He is fucked.
-
The clothes in themselves aren't even the worst part. Because at the end of the day, as cute as Charlie looks all the time, and no matter how much it makes Nick’s competitive streak ignite with a fire he didn’t even know he had, the real truth of the matter is that Nick misses him.
Nearly two weeks of absolutely no contact with his boyfriend is getting to him.
Charlie had always likened Nick to be the sun, but if anything, it’s Nick that’s always been stuck in Charlie’s orbit.
... This is surprisingly not the gayest thing Nick’s ever thought about him.
There’s not even any real reason for him to be thinking about things like this now of all times. Other than lack-of-cuddling-delirium, which Nick totally has control of.
But it’s fine. It’s fine. He can do this.
-
And that, Nick finally relents, is a complete lie.
He barely lasts the rest of the week.
-
The bet ends on a Tuesday. The Tuesday part isn’t that significant, but for some reason, Nick just remembers it.
And not because anything even happens.
All Charlie has to do to break Nick is send a photo of himself blowing a kiss at the camera, and caption it “miss kissing u :((((“.
Maybe Charlie’s just looking especially adorable in the picture (true) or maybe Nick’s just been so completely Charlie-touch-deprived that he’s just on the edge of losing it (also true), but before he can realize that maybe, just maybe, Charlie knows that Nick is just one more move away from losing the bet and this was all a strategic move on his part, he’s already stuffing his feet into his shoes and running out the door.
-
Charlie’s mum lets him in.
“Nick! Charlie didn’t tell me you were visiting.”
“I’m surprising him,” Nick responds sheepishly, heart nearly thumping out of his chest.
Charlie’s mum nods, smiling at him. “Well, he’s just in his room. Feel free to head on up.”
The walk to Charlie’s room happens without any fanfare, Nick letting muscle memory guide his path up the stairs and to Charlie’s door without even bothering to knock.
Charlie’s lying on his stomach on the bed, wearing one of Nick’s shirts. Somewhere in the back of Nick’s mind, he is starting to suspect Charlie doesn’t even bother with his own clothes anymore.
Charlie glances up, surprised. “Nick? Did we plan to meet up today?”
Nick shakes his head, body nearly shaking with restlessness. “I give up,” He says quickly. No need to waste any more time.
Charlie gets up. “What?”
“I give up,” Nick repeats, watching Charlie fully register the meaning of the words and stand up.
He smiles, stepping closer to Nick. “What was that? Were you saying something about the bet just now?”
Nick snaps. “I give up! You win! I don’t care anymore!” He nearly trips over his feet in his efforts to grab Charlie and drag him into his arms, half-bent over to try and get Charlie completely enveloped by him.
Charlie melts into the embrace immediately.
God. Finally.
“You,” Nick starts, shifting backwards only to lean back in and catch Charlie’s lips in his, “are,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “infuriating.”
“So I’ve been told,” Charlie manages to gasp, before shutting up and letting Nick kiss him proper. Charlie tastes like oranges and sun and warmth and happiness all at once, and Nick can’t fucking believe he’s let this go on for as long as it did.
They’ve gotten good at this in the last two years, the whole kissing thing. Nick’s only ever kissed Tara before, just a quick press of lips while classmates cheered around them, so maybe he doesn’t have the strongest of reference, but he’d like to think he's right about this.
Charlie always kisses with eagerness, and somewhere along the line, that eagerness got mixed with a skill set that just happened to cater to Nick. Charlie has this other cute habit too: Especially in times like these, when it feels like there’s next-to-nothing that can ruin their mood, Charlie always breaks out into laughs mid-kiss. Nick can’t even be annoyed by the amount of times they have to break apart so that Charlie can giggle. One, because it is still one of the best sounds Nick’s ever heard, topping even Nellie’s happy whines when she was a baby, and second, all that means is that Nick has more skin along Charlie’s cheek and jaw and neck to work with.
“That tickles,” Charlie laughs breathlessly, when Nick reaches Charlie’s neck.
“You deserve it,” Nick mumbles, purposefully making sure his lips touch the skin right underneath Charlie’s ear where he’s the most ticklish.
Charlie flinches away with another giggle. “You’re just taking revenge now because you lost.”
“We can go with that,” Nick says agreeably, and seeks out Charlie’s lips again.
There’s a long, long stretch after that where they do nothing but kiss. Where Nick can’t be bothered to think about anything else.
“Wow,” Charlie says eventually, breathing heavily, letting his forehead rest against Nick’s chest for a moment. He looks up to make eye contact with Nick from that position. “I love you, like, so much right now.”
Nick grins. He pulls back to wrap one arm across Charlie’s back, then bends down to wrap the other behind Charlie’s knees to scoop him up into his arms.
Charlie gasps, a shocked laugh escaping his mouth and straight into Nick’s heart. Arms come to wrap around Nick’s neck, and Charlie’s head finds home where Nick’s collarbone is.
Nick loves him.
“I’m never letting you touch the ground,” Nick says. He hefts Charlie higher up into his arms for good measure. “This is my revenge for losing the bet.”
“Nick! I’m heavy!”
“Nope. You weigh nothing to me.”
Charlie relaxes into his arms. “I’d take offense to that if you weren’t such a sap.”
“I mean it, Charlie. I’m never putting you down again. You’re stuck in my arms forever.”
“Want to bet?” Charlie asks, leaning down and kissing Nick on the tip of his nose.
Nick grimaces. “I don’t want to hear that word out of your mouth ever again.”
“Oh, come on,” Charlie says. “You held on for so long this time around. Who knows? Next time you might even win your clothes back.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Nick laughs, tightening his hold on Charlie. He’d first lose every bet in the entire universe before he gave this up for a second time. “I’ll humor you, because that is what love does to a person apparently. What are you betting?”
“How about, if you don’t put me down, I won’t kiss you anymore,” Charlie says teasingly, complete deadweight in Nick’s arms. Like he trusts Nick to not let him go.
Which works in Nick’s favor, actually.
He walks over and drops Charlie onto the bed with no warning whatsoever, indulging in Charlie’s squawk of surprise as the bed sinks under his weight.
“Whoops,” Nick says, crawling onto the bed until he’s hovering above him. He bends down to give him a chaste kiss. “I lose.”
Charlie laughs, and Nick kisses that, too.
-
“Do my lips look different?” Charlie asks afterwards. He stares at his face through the reflection of his phone screen. “I think they look different right now.”
“Considering we just made out for like an hour, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Nick says, face muffled by the fabric of Charlie’s top. Nick thinks he might scream if someone tries to drag him away from Charlie right now. He’s half-asleep as it is, letting the minute movements of Charlie shifting rock him further and further into sleep.
Charlie groans. “My mum’s going to call us for dinner any second you know. She’ll definitely be able to tell.”
“She won’t if you also take a nap right now,” Nick says sleepily. He rhythmically pats Charlie’s chest like one would a toddler. “Close your eyes already.”
“The logic is not tracking in the slightest, but you’re being cute so I’ll ignore it,” Charlie says, letting one of his hands rest on top of Nick’s.
“Mmmngnhfghh,” Nick mumbles, pleasantly warm at being called cute. He does try, after all.
“Adorable.”
“Charlie,” Nick whines. “Nap with me?”
Charlie giggles, jostling Nick slightly from the movement. “You sleep. I’m not that tired, so get some rest and I can wake you up when my mum calls. I’ll just play around on my phone,” Charlie says.
That does sound like a good plan, Nick acquiesces internally. “I hope you know I’m not going to move.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you to, love.”
“Yay,” Nick says, and snuggles closer to Charlie.
Charlie says something else then, dropping a hand to Nick’s hair and letting his slightly calloused fingers run against the shorter strands near the nape of Nick’s neck, soft and gentle despite the roughened pads of his fingertips—
Clearly, Nick doesn’t hear him, a little too focused on something else.
He falls asleep by his next exhale, content with the fact that he’ll still be in Charlie's arms when he wakes up.