Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nick Nelson likes going to parties. Usually. They're fun. The beer is free. There's lots of people he can watch when he inevitably gets tired of his own friends in their overly drunken states.

But when said party takes place at his shared house after weeks of intense rugby practices and just before end of term exams, well, he desperately wishes he could just tell the seventy five or so people that currently crowd his home space to fuck off.

Of course, that doesn't happen, instead leaving him to stand with his usual group of mates, easily drowning out their conversation with the booming of the bass from speakers that weren't meant to put out nearly that much volume.

He nods when he needs to, laughs an appropriate amount and no one seems to be the wiser that he had practically no idea what they were talking about.

Probably objectifying or belittling someone. Or both. They are really good at that.

Honestly, he needs better friends.

He notices the contents of his cup are rather low, and sighs knowing he will definitely need more if he is going to survive the night. Pacing himself is key. He can't afford to be blackout drunk this weekend, but a nice buzz will at least help soften the blow of having to be around Harry Greene for an extended period of time.

Nick glances over at the drink station that has been haphazardly set up on the kitchen island. There are cups strewn all over it, and he inwardly groans at the mess he will inevitably have to help clean up the next day.

He is in the middle of pondering the pros and cons of chasing out whomever was currently occupying his bedroom and seeing how good the noise cancellation is on his headphones when he sees him.

And his world goes still.

The first thing Nick notices is the mop of curly black hair on top of the boy's head. It looks soft, even from a distance, brushing against olive skin that looks the perfect bit sunkissed even in the midst of short autumn days that are quickly bleeding into winter.

Slender shoulders hold up a black t-shirt and an oversized cream cardigan covers his arms. It brushes below his waist against skinny jeans with holes ripped in the middle, covering long legs that end in a pair of well-worn and loved looking high-top Converse.

He is cute in that geeky, nerdy sort of way that always makes Nick a little weak in the knees, but there is something else about him too. Like the very aura about him just screams home.

Nick shakes his head to clear his thoughts. There isn't nearly enough alcohol in his system for him to be falling in love with strangers at first sight.

So, he continues to tune out his friends while he watches the boy with the curly black hair and angular face and soft looking cardigan.

Nick watches him take long sips from his drink, hiding his face as his eyes look around the room. Watches him pull out his phone several times, only to click the screen to black and place it back in his pocket. Watches as his gaze clashes with Nick's and his eyes go wide while pink tinges his cheeks as they look at each other from across the room.

It feels electric, the surge of something that rushes through Nick at the sight of him staring, and he stares back just as intensely because it's impossible to look away. There's just something about this boy that captivates him, and he's not sure what it is, but he desperately wants to find out.

Sure, he's been attracted to loads of people in his life. It's how he figured out he was bisexual in the first place. But this? This is as if someone has created a mould of his type and placed it in front of him.

He makes up his mind to go talk to him when another guy with straight brown hair walks up to the island with a swagger born from too much alcohol. Soft Boy looks briefly panicked.

A nervousness pricks at the back of Nick's neck as he sees the newcomer slide far too close to the Soft Boy. Nick can see he looks instantly uncomfortable, and the wolfish grin from the other guy seems to only make it worse.

Nick wants to move. Every nerve in his body tells him that something is wrong here, and he needs to do something. But he stays still for a few moments, still watching, hoping that his gut is wrong.

He sees Soft Boy avoid eye contact, his responses short, even as the other guy moves in so near there can be no doubt to his intentions. His body is stiff and his shoulders raised as he appears to try and create a barrier between them, but the other guy doesn't take the hint and Nick's brain scrambles for ways to help.

He's walking towards them before he realises what's happening, ignoring the call, "Nick, where're you going, mate?" that follows him, his mind singularly focused on getting the Soft Boy away and comfortable again.

It's a split second decision he makes as he approaches. There's a calculated risk in it, but he's never exactly been a strategist in everyday life and even if this blows up in his face, at least he'll hopefully succeed in chasing the other guy away.

When he gets close, Soft Boy looks his way, Nick's quick movements catching his attention and his expression flickers back and forth between what looks like confusion and relief.

Nick sees now that his eyes are a deep blue, and he finds himself even more drawn to this stranger than he was before, but he can't let himself get distracted. He smiles, hoping it conveys the safety he wants to bring and he winks just as he swings his arm around narrow shoulders.

He's surprised when the boy seems to relax underneath the weight of his touch, and it bolsters Nick to keep going.

"You alright, love?" Nick asks, and he's met with widened eyes that slowly give way to a light smile full of realisation.

Soft Boy is cute and clever.

"No, actually," he answers, his own arm coming up to grasp around Nick's waist. "I'm glad you found me."

Nick finds himself briefly lost in a sea of deep blue, only managing to pull himself out of the depths when a blunt statement is directed his way. "You're dating Charlie?"

A name. He's grateful for such an important piece of information, and while he doesn't answer the question, he places his cup down and sticks out his free hand to introduce himself in a bid to give Charlie (god, he already loves the name) the same knowledge he's been given.

"Nick Nelson," he says with an icy tone and a glare he typically only uses on the rugby pitch.

His hand is shaken back loosely as the unwanted guy eyes Nick warily. "Ben Hope," he says, gaze lingering on Nick for a moment longer before turning back to Charlie. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend."

"I didn't really think it was any of your business," Charlie answers, and Nick can feel Charlie's hand tighten into the shirt at his waist, but he seems more confident now. Gone is the nervous boy hiding at the kitchen island. "Seeing as you made it abundantly clear you were only interested in me on your own terms. But yes, Nick is my boyfriend."

He leans on the word a little too much, but Ben doesn't notice and his eyes narrow into something dangerous that sends a chill down Nick's spine. Toxic anger spews from his mouth. "You were lucky to have me, you-"

"Char," Nick interrupts, the nickname rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing. He has no desire to hear whatever is going to come out of Ben's mouth next. "I think I need some air. It's really thick in here."

"Sounds great," Charlie says and Nick begins to steer them away, drink and friends all but forgotten as he focuses on getting Charlie away.

"Don't let go yet," he whispers, trying his best to not be overwhelmed by the hints of mint and vanilla on Charlie's skin. "He'll be watching."

Charlie nods and leans further into Nick's side. "Can we actually get some air? I think I need it."

"I know just the place," Nick replies, dropping his arm from around Charlie's shoulders to grab his hand. It's small compared to his, but warm as he leads Charlie up the stairs to his thankfully empty room and out onto the balcony that costs him an extra fifty pounds a month in rent.

He always secretly knew it was worth it though.

His room is miraculously empty, and he's grateful. Not that it would have mattered. He would have kicked anyone out that had happened to be in there, but still it's nice to just be able to pull Charlie by the hand through the sliding glass door and out into the night.

The early December air hits Nick in the face as Charlie sinks into one of the chairs, sighing deeply and running his hand through already tousled curls. "Fuck," he breathed. "Thank you."

"That guy seems like a real winner," Nick says as he sits down into the adjacent chair.

"That's putting it mildly," Charlie says with a huff.

They sit in silence for a moment, the loud and booming bass from the lower floor lightly vibrating the air around them.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," Nick says, the reality of what he'd done sinking in. How brazen he'd been. How the fact that his actions could have made Charlie uncomfortable hadn't occurred to him. "You just looked like you wanted out of there, and I-"

"No!" Charlie says hastily, before he grins and Nick notices he has dimples for the first time. "I did desperately want to get away from him, but I knew he'd follow me and I just-" he breaks off and looks down at his lap and Nick thinks he can see the blush from earlier return to his cheeks. "I'm glad my boyfriend was there to save me."

It's Nick's turn to blush. "I, uh, realise that was kind of," he scrubs at the back of his neck, "presumptuous of me to think you would be someone who had a boyfriend, but from the way that guy was looking at you, I thought it might be the best way to get rid of him."

"Oh, it was," Charlie says, his smile still wide. "And it might have been presumptuous, but it's entirely correct."

Nick smiles back and Charlie continues, his head tilts to the side in question. "Would you be someone who has a boyfriend?"

"I would," Nick replies. "Or a girlfriend. Either one."

He's usually not so quick to out himself. It's an exhausting ritual he hasn't yet come to terms with, nor with the fact that he'll have to do it for the rest of his life. Every new person that enters his life will be another turn at laying his heart bare and hoping for the best.

Typically, he'd be angry if someone he'd barely met had asked him something so personal, but with Charlie he's strangely glad. As weird as it might be, he wants a chance to know him. Wonders what it would be like to love him, because he feels it would be so easy.

Fuck, he is a cheesy mess.

"That's good," Charlie says looking out into the night and Nick can't read his expression though his tone is light. "It would be rather odd if my boyfriend didn't like boys."

Nick chuckles, relieved at Charlie's non-reaction to the news of his bisexuality. Looking at him through his periphery, he notices a chill run through Charlie's upper body. He takes off his hoodie and holds it out knowing his long sleeve t-shirt underneath is more than enough to keep him warm.

Charlie shakes his head even as he rubs his hands up and down his arms. "I can't take your jumper. It's freezing out here."

Nick throws the garment into Charlie's lap and laughs again when Charlie looks at him as if he's missing a few key mental faculties. "I'm fine, I swear. I'm almost never cold."

Charlie eyes him for a few more moments before slipping the hoodie over his head. It's predictably huge on him and Nick finds it way more adorable than he probably should.

"So, how'd you know this was here?" Charlie gestures towards the balcony they currently occupy.

"It's mine, actually," Nick replies. "I live here with some mates of mine."

Charlie suddenly looks crestfallen. "Shit," he says. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to take you away from your own party."

"You didn't," Nick tells him quickly. "My friend Christian is responsible for this."

"So, I'm not causing you to be a bad host?"

"That would be difficult considering I'm not a host at all."

"You don't have to stay out here with me. You've done more than enough," Charlie says after a brief silence, bringing his knees up to his chest, his feet resting on the edge of the chair. He sounds unsure all of a sudden, and it hurts Nick square in the chest.

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you out here by yourself?" Nick asks, and he tries to make it sound like a joke, but he's fairly sure he fails.

"A fake one," Charlie responds, resting his head on his knees and turning his head towards Nick.

"I'm perfectly fine where I am," Nick says, leaning back into the chair. "Unless you'd prefer that I leave?"

"No," Charlie says softly. "I think I'd like for you to stay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I'll stay."

"Good."

"Good."

They look at each other, a beat of comfortable silence stretching between them. Charlie breaks first. "So, tell me about yourself, boyfriend. Why am I dating you, exactly?"

Nick shrugs with a smirk. "It's not obvious to you already?"

"I mean, you've got the hot, athletic type thing going for you for sure, but my boyfriend would definitely be more than that."

Nick wiggles his eyebrows. "So you admit you think I'm hot?"

Charlie's cheeks go pink in the dim glow of the lights Nick has strung across the balcony edge. He finds he really enjoys making Charlie blush, and he hopes he can do it enough to memorise what he looks like by the end of the night.

"You can't expect me to incriminate myself."

"Oh, come on. I'm just your boyfriend."

Charlie hesitates and then rolls his eyes. "Fine. Yes. I think you're hot. Objectively."

Nick punches a fist into the air. "Yes!" he yells too loudly for the late hour, but figures it can't be any more annoying than the loud music already is. "My boyfriend thinks I'm hot!"

Charlie alternates between laughing and shushing him, reaching out to grab his arm and force it back down on the chair. "Objectively," Charlie repeats, dimples making perfect crescent moons on his cheeks. "I still know basically nothing else about you."

"Well, my name is Nick."

"A revelation."

"And I am an athlete."

"Hmm, let me guess," Charlie straightens his legs and puts a hand to his chin in pretend thought. "Some kind of contact sport? Rugby?"

Nick winces. "Is it that obvious?"

Charlie playfully squeezes the arm closest to him. "Nah. You've just got those strong rugby arms going on."

They are practically perfect strangers, but their familiarity feels like it's made of something much deeper and bigger than either of them. Like they were meant to find each other in any and every lifetime.

"Anything else I should know about you, rugby lad Nick Nelson?"

"How in depth do you want me to go?" Nick asks, already ready to spill his soul. "Like deepest, darkest secrets even my mum doesn't know? Or just the 'I'm Nick Nelson, and I like Marvel films,' bull shit you do when you meet someone for the first time?"

"Maybe a bit of both? We certainly have the time," Charlie suggests. "But only if you're comfortable."

He is, but he's lived a fairly boring, uneventful life up until this point, so he's not sure what kind of secrets he'll be able to spill that won't sound like they should have come to light during an adolescent sleepover.

"Ok, well. Boring stuff first, then. I'm in the teacher course."

"Really?" Charlie seems delighted by this bit of news for reasons Nick couldn't begin to guess. "What do you want to teach?"

"I feel like most people think I should teach PE or something, but I want to teach French."

Charlie's mouth makes a perfect little 'o' shape and Nick realises he'd very much like to kiss him. "Do you speak French?"

"I do," he says. "My dad is French. Lives in France actually. He basically only spoke to us in French while we were growing up. Before he and my mum split and he moved back, anyway."

"Wow, that's-" he breaks off and shakes his head. "People who are bilingual always amaze me. My dad is Spanish, but he mostly grew up here when my grandfather was moved because of work, so I only know a little bit, but I wish I knew more."

"It's never too late to learn."

"True," Charlie says. "So, your parents are divorced?"

"Yep," Nick says with a sigh. "It was for the best, and they get along so much better now, without the pressure of it all, but I think a lot of my tendency to be sort of…clingy comes from him leaving when I was so young."

Charlie looks surprised at the revelation, but Nick just shrugs. "You wanted the secrets, too."

"I did," Charlie agrees with a nod. "And I think that's probably really normal. Someone really important to you left, it's only natural that would bleed into other relationships. Plus, you don't strike me as being all that clingy. Touchy-feely, maybe, but I doubt you're as bad as you think you are."

Nick can feel his cheeks flame at the correct assessment of his character. "I do enjoy a good hug."

"Hugs are really underestimated."

"Definitely."

"Tell me more about you?"

"So eager," Nick teases and Charlie smiles but he doesn't back down. "I do actually really love Marvel films. I have an amazing mum. An alright dad, and completely shit brother named David. I discovered I was bi when I was watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and my first kiss was with a girl named Tara Jones in year seven."

"I guess that relationship didn't work out for you?"

"You're just going to skip over the Pirates thing?" Nick asks, a little amazed because he definitely wouldn't have skipped over that if the roles were reversed.

"I mean, it's Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley. It makes total sense."

"Huh," Nick says with a thoughtful expression. "I guess it does."

"But I want to hear more about Tara Jones. What happened? Were you star-crossed lovers whose families were in a generations-long feud that resulted in your not being able to be together?"

Nick laughed loudly. "Uh, no," he says when he finally catches his breath. "Turns out she was a lesbian."

Charlie gasps dramatically. "Oh, my god. Was your kissing so bad that's what made her realise?"

Nick reaches across and lands a light punch to Charlie's arm, though his face blooms into a smile. "Fuck you," he says affectionately, and Charlie lets out what could only be described as a giggle. "Just for that, it's your turn. Spill."

"I never said I was going to tell you anything about me," Charlie says, and Nick can see the mischief in his blue eyes even in the relative dark. "I only asked about you."

Nick glares at him and points a finger. "Listen here, Charles-"

"You just assume my name is actually Charles?"

"-you'd better start talking or I'm taking back my jumper and you can sit and be cold." He thinks about threatening to leave, but knows he doesn't even have it in him to pretend that's an option.

Charlie holds up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Fine. Boring stuff first right?"

"Right."

"My name is Charlie," he says with a grin.

What a little shit, Nick thinks with a fondness that's usually reserved for only his favourite people and dogs. "Why am I dating you again?"

"I needed rescuing," Charlie says, still smiling but his eyes look sad.

"I've spent less than an hour with you, and I already know you don't need anyone to rescue you."

It was true. He isn't just giving lip-service. Charlie is more than capable of holding his own, and he's obviously stupid smart. What he lacks, possibly, is confidence, something he appears to gain immediately once someone is there to support him.

Even if that someone is just a stranger pretending to be his boyfriend.

Charlie doesn't respond to his statement. It's pushed to the back of Nick's mind as instead, Charlie starts to tell him about his life and Nick finds himself hanging on every word.

"My full name is Charles Francis Spring."

"Hah! I was right."

"It wasn't exactly a stretch to figure that out."

"But you accused me of assuming."

"It's a bad habit."

"You're stalling," Nick accuses and Charlie looks down at hands clasped in his lap. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, Charlie, I was only curious about you."

His voice is small when he responds. "I'm not used to people wanting to know me."

"Well, I do. Very much," Nick says, and he means it as deeply as he can.

"Why?"

It's a simple question, but not one so easily answered. "Haven't you-" he pauses, grappling for the right words, "-ever just met someone you wanted to know better? Even if there's no real reason for it that you can put your finger on?"

Charlie meets his eyes and answers a quiet but steady, "Yes."

"Well, there you go," Nick says with a half grin, both hoping he's obvious and not giving himself completely away about how much he wants to know Charlie better.

There's a lull as Charlie thinks, but somehow Nick knows he only has to give him the space and time and Charlie will let him in.

"I'm here studying the Classics. I've always loved Greek literature."

"What do you want to do after you finish?"

"Teach," he says, and suddenly his earlier excitement makes sense. "But I'll need a couple more degrees and a stupid amount of research under my belt before then."

"What made you decide to come to Leeds to study?" Nick asks, curious because he thought someone as smart as Charlie obviously is, would wind up at Oxford or some equally studious institution.

"Uh, well," Charlie clears his throat and swallows hard. "There's a professor here, Henry Maddox, that I really admire."

The way Charlie looks deeply embarrassed leads to Nick's next question. "Admire or admire?"

"Both?" Charlie says in a squeak. "He's brilliant, and his knowledge and takes on Sophocles are second to none."

Nick has no idea what a Sophocles is and for the first time in a long time, he feels inadequate.

"So, you're into the whole professor, academic type then?" he asks, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Charlie looks him up and down, eyes landing on his mouth and Nick's hope returns as quickly as it left. "Not necessarily."

Their gazes lock for a second too long and they both look away as a cold breeze ruffles their hair. Nick props his legs up on the balcony railing in a desperate attempt to give himself something, anything, to do while his heart races and his palms sweat despite the near freezing temperatures.

"I'm the middle of three kids," Charlie starts and Nick nearly jumps. "My older sister Tori is one of the only people who really understands me, and my little brother Oliver is pure sunshine. I love The Strokes and I play the drums. Greek Classics are my favourite things to read. My parents are great, but my mum and I struggle. It's gotten better, and we talk at least once a week, but sometimes I don't think she'll ever get me. I'm really introverted and I was outed at school when I was fourteen and was bullied so badly I developed an eating disorder."

Nick's breath catches and his lungs clench. His own coming out hadn't exactly been easy, but it had been on his own terms. He can't imagine having that taken away from him, and can absolutely understand how dealing with all of that at fourteen could lead to a world of hurt.

"God, that fucking sucks. I'm so sorry, Charlie."

Charlie plays with the cord strings at the neck of Nick's hoodie. "Not your fault."

"I know, but, I just…" he rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't imagine what that must have been like, what you went through."

"I'm much better now," Charlie tells him, and Nick hopes it's true more than anything in recent memory. "I had a lot of good people around me and got help early enough that I didn't do any irreparable damage, thankfully. It's not something I'll ever really recover from, but it's manageable, and my good days far outnumber the bad."

"I'm really glad," Nick says sincerely while secretly hoping he might get the chance to contribute to some of those good days in the future. He doubts Charlie wants to bring too much attention to his illness, so he changes the subject to allow them both the chance to breathe.

He asks a question he's been thinking of since he first saw Charlie. "How'd you wind up here tonight?" You don't strike me as someone who really likes parties."

Charlie laughs and the comfortable air is back, no longer heavy with past burdens no one should have to carry. "I'm not. But I haven't made many friends here, and my therapist keeps encouraging me to try things out of my comfort zone, so when a girl in one of my modules told me this party was happening, I figured I'd at least try."

"And Ben? What's his story?"

Charlie purses his lips, arms coming around to hug his own middle. "We…dated, sort of. Or, well, he made me think we were, but he never wanted to talk to me in public and then I saw him snogging some girl in the back corner of the library a month ago and I was done. When I confronted him about it, he acted a lot like he did tonight, like I was lucky to have him and I should settle for whatever scraps I was given."

Anger fills Nick, unable to process how someone could be so cruel to anyone, let alone Charlie. "Is it wrong that I want to go find him and punch him in the face?"

Charlie stretches out his legs, his foot knocking playfully into Nick's still perched on the railing. "My therapist would probably tell you that the feeling isn't wrong, but acting on it would be."

Nick nudges Charlie back. "Well, as your boyfriend I can't disappoint your therapist."

They smile at each other often as the night stretches on. They talk until Nick's voice runs hoarse and Charlie rubs at his eyes like a toddler who refuses to nap. Discussing anything and everything, the conversation flows so naturally, it would be easy to forget they hadn't known each other a mere twelve hours before.

They talk of hopes and dreams, some surface level, some not, but it doesn't matter in the slightest to Nick as long as they keep talking.

And they do. Until the sun peeks past the horizon and bathes them in rays of light, and Nick reluctantly walks Charlie down the stairs, past a sleeping Sai and Christian picking up cups while looking dead on his feet, so much so he doesn't even seem to notice them.

When they stand in the driveway, Charlie moves to take off Nick's hoodie, but Nick brushes him off. "Keep it. A memento of your boyfriend Nick Nelson."

Charlie doesn't fight him on it, only smiles and nods. "Thank you, Nick. For everything," he says, and then adds a cheeky, "I'm sorry we have to break up now."

It feels like a goodbye and he hates it, but the 'please don't go' and the 'would you like to go on an actual date with me?' stick in his throat as he gets caught up in Charlie's sparkling blue eyes in the morning sun.

Instead he offers this, "Hey, you know, this doesn't have to be the end. If you ever need a boyfriend again for a party or a wedding or…anything really, you should give me a call."

Charlie beams at him. "I would, but I already deleted your number."

"We literally just broke up, Charles," he says with exaggerated exasperation, even as Charlie is already pulling out his phone for Nick to add his number in.

They're quiet while Charlie types out a brief text to send so Nick has his number and there's only the sound of chirping birds around them. Nick feels a sense of awe as his phone vibrates with a notification from a new number and he quickly saves it.

He's startled when he looks up to find Charlie standing so close he can almost hear the flutter of long lashes against Charlie's skin. Charlie surprises him for what feels like the millionth time in the last eight hours and steps onto the tips of his toes and places the barest of kisses against Nick's cheek.

Holding onto Nick's arm for balance, Charlie lowers himself back to the ground and his lips curve just enough that his dimples make an appearance. "That's for being the best boyfriend I ever had."

Nick wants it to be both true and not, because he wants so badly to mean something to this precious, too good for this world boy, but at the same time, Charlie deserves so much more than one night on a balcony in an Adidas hoodie.

"I'll see you soon?" Charlie asks as he starts to step away, and Nick nods.

"Definitely," he says. "I'm glad I met you, Charlie."

"Me too," Charlie says with a wave and turns to walk down the street.

Nick stays rooted to his spot, watching him go when he calls out before he even knows what he's going to say. "Hey Charlie!"

Charlie stops and turns back, eyebrows raised in question. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favour and don't go back to Ben. Like…ever."

Charlie's face is obscured by the rising sun just behind his head, but Nick thinks he can hear a smile in his voice when he answers, "I won't, I promise."

oOo

The rest of the term passes quickly and Nick finds himself at home for the Christmas holidays.

He texts Charlie a handful of times, but with end of term exams and social engagements both with their respective friend groups and families, they never had a chance to see each other again before Nick leaves for home.

But he tries to put it from his mind as he basks in the warmth of his mother's care and affection. They bake and watch films and since David blessedly has a girlfriend, he's not around much to bring Nick down like he normally would be.

Time with his mum combined with an unlimited amount of dog cuddles make it easy to distract himself. That is until his mother innocently asks over dinner one evening if he has anyone special in his life.

"Maybe," he answers, pushing potatoes around on his plate. "I'm… not really sure."

She puts down her fork and knife, abandoning her chicken to place her hand over his in that comforting way only a mother can. "Nicky, you know I just want you to be happy, right? No matter who it is."

Nick can read between the lines. She's telling him she doesn't care if he loves a boy or a girl or anything on the spectrum, and he loves her so much for it.

Charlie's face immediately flashes in his mind. "I know, mum. I hope there is, I'm just not sure if he's interested in me that way."

His mum squeezes his hand and smiles, the lines around her eyes crinkling as she looks at him. "Just talk to him, dear. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

It's such a mum thing to say, but it makes him feel better all the same.

Later that night, he opens Instagram and sees Charlie has posted photos from what appears to be a family trip to Spain for the holiday. There's a photo of him messing with a boy whom Nick guesses is his younger brother, Charlie's face bright and happy in the Spanish sun, and a photo of a girl dressed flipping him off with a book in her lap while they lounged in a park.

Nick hesitates with the text he writes, but convinces himself to send it anyway.

Nick: Happy Christmas, Charlie!

He gets a response not two minutes later. It's a photo of Charlie flashing a peace sign with one hand and holding an umbrellaed drink in the other. The message underneath the images leaves him smiling until sleep claims him.

Charlie: Happy Christmas to my favourite boyfriend xx

oOo

When Nick walks into his research methods module at the start of the next term, he's pleasantly surprised to see a familiar shock of black curly hair sitting in the back row.

"Charlie?" The name comes out in an almost croak and Charlie whips his head around to face Nick.

He looks almost as relieved as he did the night of the party. "Nick? Oh, thank god. I was worried I wouldn't know anyone. Sit with me?"

It's a needless request as Nick is already placing his things down in the seat next to his.

"How are you?" Charlie asks, with a toothy grin that makes Nick feel like he did after a few too many glasses of mulled wine over the holiday break. "I've been meaning to text you, but things got crazy and I wound up going to Spain spur of the moment with my family, and anyway," he catches himself and looks away. "How are you?"

Nick tells him briefly about his holiday as other students filter into the classroom and Charlie listens and responds like he's reading one of his Greek Classics for the first time.

"It's completely unfair you have two dogs," Charlie whines. "I swear the first thing I'm going to do when I get a real job is get a dog."

Nick spends the rest of the time before the professor arrives showing Charlie just a few of the copious amounts of photos he has of Nellie and Henry on his phone, and when class finally begins he does his best to pay attention, but finds himself mostly just stealing sidelong glances at Charlie the entire time.

He isn't sure how it's possible, but Nick had missed him. His smile, his laugh, his enthusiasm for all things nerdy, the way his hair settled in a perfect mess on his head.

Charlie, bless him, studiously takes notes on his laptop and Nick makes a mental note to ask if he can borrow them later, though he thinks there are more than a few times when Charlie's fingers go still on the keyboard. That he might be taking the opportunity to look at Nick, too.

There's mention of picking partners that they'll work with for the entire module and after the class is dismissed they both look at each other and ask a question in synchronous tandem, though Nick's is a little more a pleading statement than anything.

"Want to be partners?"

"For the love of god, please be my partner."

They laugh together and it's decided, and as they leave the room, Charlie appears to be contemplating something with extreme care, his forehead creased and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his skinny jeans which is a feat in and of itself.

Nick only just manages to open the door before Charlie runs into it, completely lost in thought. "You alright?"

Charlie stops and Nick nearly runs into the back of him. He turns and looks at Nick with wide, doe-like eyes. "Do you want to come round my place and hang out sometime?"

Nick blinks a few times and stands stupidly in stunned silence. He only realises he hasn't answered when Charlie's face falls and starts to backtrack.

"Sorry, nevermind, it was a stupid idea, I-"

"N-no! No. I'd love to. Charlie. Yes. Yes, please. Yes," he stutters out like an idiot, but the way Charlie's face lights up doesn't leave any room for embarrassment.

"I'll text you?" Charlie offers and Nick nods.

"You'd better."

oOo

They become virtually inseparable despite their busy schedules.

Free evenings are spent studying at his place where he pointedly ignores Christian and Sai's knowing looks as he follows Charlie up the stairs. Sometimes they go to Charlie's absurdly tiny flat or Nick sits at a table close to the check out desk of the university library where Charlie works when he isn't in class. Occasionally, Charlie sits in the stands and reads while Nick is in practice.

They do fun things, too. Nick gets his ass handed to him in Mario Kart and they take turns picking a film to watch. Charlie always picks something thought provoking and Nick is forcing him to watch every Marvel film in chronological order to which Charlie only rolls his eyes a little bit.

He even finds himself sleeping on Charlie's couch or wakes up to find Charlie curled up in his bed, hair a sleep-riled mess against his tan skin.

They're the textbook example of opposites attracting, and Nick feels like he finally has the perfect balance in his life.

It's comfortable. So comfortable that Nick can imagine himself sinking into the relationship for the rest of his life and never looking back. But neither of them makes a move to push things any further beyond the friendship they've so clearly formed.

Nick wants to. Fuck, does he want to, but Charlie's apparent hesitation holds him back. Nick often notices Charlie trying to put more space between them, or snapping his hand back when he absentmindedly touches Nick.

Nick isn't sure what's causing it, and he doesn't ask because he will happily take any iteration of Charlie he can have. Because Charlie is an extraordinary human who has overcome more than most and yet he's still filled with such fire.

He's sarcastic and smart and quick-witted and good at basically everything he tries, except understanding rugby which Nick gives him a pass on because he would gladly explain it to him forever if it meant Charlie would stick around.

And Charlie doesn't make any move to stop hanging out even when Nick purposefully doesn't ask for a while to make sure Charlie doesn't feel pressured to spend time with him.

Charlie even invites him to go to a talk given by his favourite professor and though Nick doesn't understand a word of what goes on, he can't help but draw parallels between his friend and the expert speaking in front of him.

They both talk about things they love with such a passion it's impossible to not be drawn into their orbit if one only took the time to listen. Plus, it didn't hurt that the guy is a total dish that looked like he could be a fifteen year older version of Charlie.

Black hair. Lithe frame. Blue eyes. Dimples.

"I get it, now," Nick says as they walk back to Charlie's flat afterward. "About the professor."

"Yeah?" Charlie asks with a half smile. "Told you he was a genius."

Nick bumps his elbow into Charlie with a grin. "No, I mean why you admire him so much. He's not bad to look at."

"Shut up, you jerk," Charlie laughs. "I admire him for his mind."

"Uh, huh. Sure you do."

"I do," Charlie protests and Nick can't help what comes next.

He knows he shouldn't flirt, but he wants this so badly and he's tired of fighting it all the time. And he thinks maybe Charlie is too.

"He looks like you, you know," he tells Charlie with a wink. He keeps walking even as Charlie stops dead in his tracks.

When he's ten paces ahead, he hears a rush of footsteps behind him and Charlie is soon back at his side.

"Thanks for coming, tonight," Charlie says, apparently choosing to completely ignore Nick's comment because of course he does and Nick feels a pang of regret. "I'm sure you would rather have spent time with your friends, but I really appreciate it."

"We are friends," Nick tells him, confused why Charlie would even suggest anything different.

"I-I know we are. Of course we are, I just…" he trails off and leans his head back while taking in a deep breath of air. "You don't really hang out with them anymore, and I feel really guilty for monopolising your time."

They've arrived in front of Charlie's door and Nick comes to stand between him and the building. In a move that surprises even himself, Nick's hands come up to hold Charlie's cheeks, forcing the other man to look directly at him.

"You're not monopolising my time. I love spending time with you, Char," he says, his tone conveying every ounce of sincerity he's been holding in for months now. It's a nickname he hasn't called him since he did that first night trying to get Ben away. It had been a play on intimacy then, but now, it's meant to be the real thing even if he won't openly admit it.

Charlie stares at Nick with a wide-eyed expression mixed with a hint of reverence. A myriad of emotions flash across his face, and Nick can only make out a few of them for sure, but when he thinks one of them might be unapologetic love he doesn't try to guess anymore.

Charlie swallows and Nick's gaze dips down to the curve of his neck as it bounces with the movement. When his eyes trail back up Charlie is looking at his lips and Nick wonders if it's an invitation.

He watches as Charlie's eyes flutter shut, an uneven breath flowing into his lungs and then back out again. Nick leans closer until their foreheads touch, his hands still on Charlie's cheeks while their noses brush and he thinks this could really, finally be it.

But he won't close the gap. He can't because Charlie has been so unsure and Nick won't take advantage no matter how perfect he knows they would be together.

He doesn't have to wait long, because he feels Charlie step up onto his toes just like he had that very first day to lay a kiss onto Nick's cheek and then-

The moment is broken as a group of obviously inebriated women come around the corner and run into them.

Charlie jumps back, almost stepping off the curb, and Nick has to reach out and grab his arm to keep him from falling.

The spell is broken, the moment is over and Nick can feel the disappointment clinging to every part of him.

Charlie is blushing when he walks past Nick with a hurried, "goodnight," and he soon disappears into the building without another word.

oOo

They don't talk about it, because of course they don't.

It's a long three days before Nick sees Charlie again, and only then because they see each other in their module. They have a major project coming up, and they meet almost as often as they used to to work on it, but it's not the same. It's both a relief and a stab in the heart to Nick, and he isn't sure which one will become the prevailing feeling as time goes on.

"I have a huge favour to ask," Charlie says as he slips into his normal seat next to Nick on a Tuesday afternoon two weeks before the end of term.

"Yeah?" Nick says, looking up expecting the favour to be…well, he isn't sure what, but what Charlie asks, isn't it.

"Could you maybe pretend to be my boyfriend, again? My cousin is getting married and it would just be so much easier if my entire family doesn't spend the entire day bugging me about when I'm going to settle down and find someone, and I maybe, sort of already told them we were dating a while ago to get them off my back and-"

Nick listens to him ramble and knows he should tell him no. That he can't keep doing this. That while Charlie is pretending, Nick isn't, and it's too hard to keep up the facade anymore, especially in front of a wedding full of Charlie's family members.

Naturally, that isn't what happens. "Of course I'll go. But you'll have to fill me in on all your family members before we go so I don't look like a total idiot."

Charlie gives him a shaky smile that Nick does his best to return. "Have I told you lately you're the best boyfriend?" Charlie says and Nick feels his stomach sink a bit at the last word.

He's grateful to be saved from having to say anything else when their professor starts ramblings of his own about research protocol.

oOo

The wedding takes place at some posh estate overlooking a lake about an hour's drive from Leeds. Nick offers to drive them, and before he knows it, he's got an overnight bag packed and is driving down the M62 with Charlie in the passenger seat.

They spend the drive with Charlie quizzing Nick on his various family members and Nick does decently well for someone who can barely remember what he had for breakfast that day.

He's determined to do his best for Charlie, and finds it's easy to slip into their old ways, talking easily and teasing each other within an inch of their lives.

When they arrive at the wedding later that afternoon, Nick is introduced to what must be the entirety of the Spring family. Charlie's parents seem lovely if not a little uptight, and his brother is as adorable as any eleven year old could be.

Tori scares him a bit as she appraises him for what feels like hours. All through the ceremony and cocktails and into dinner hour he catches her looking at him and when he looks back she doesn't look away, only gazes at him with a thoughtful stare that he knows is meant to suss him out.

He sticks close to Charlie as much as he can, trying his best to stay focused even as Charlie's fitted grey suit drives him to distraction. He turns his charm levels up far higher than is necessary, but all the older Spring women seem to eat it up, so he figures he can't be doing too badly despite Charlie's slightly exasperated eye rolls when they aren't looking.

The cake has long been served and the dance floor open when a slow song comes over the speakers. Charlie turns to him and whispers near his ear, "Dance with me?"

Nick rises from his chair without another word and offers his hand to Charlie. He leads him to the floor much like he led him up the stairs to the balcony nearly half a year before.

In some ways they've come so far since then, and in others it feels like they are standing still, stuck in a loop they can't escape.

He thinks he hears people cooing over the sight of them, but he can only focus on Charlie as their hands clasp and he pulls his 'boyfriend' close by the waist.

They don't dance so much as they sway in a small circle, but it feels nice and Nick lets himself get lost in the soothing movements. Charlie sighs and lays his head on Nick's shoulder and Nick's muscles lock for a second before he lets himself melt into the embrace.

He wonders if Charlie is allowing himself to get lost too, taking advantage of a moment that means he can take what he wants, what he's been denying himself for whatever reason, without judgement.

Nick knows Charlie wants more. Along with his gut feeling since that first night, he's seen the way Charlie looks at him. Seen the way he reaches out before he catches himself. The late night phone calls. The hugs and his habit of staring at Nick's mouth. It's impossible to ignore even though he's fairly certain Charlie thinks he's done a good job of hiding it.

He pulls Charlie closer, lays his head atop riotous curls and lets himself drift. It's perfection wrapped in deception and for the spanse a sappy love song, even he's convinced it's real.

But then the music ends and so many people are watching them and Nick has a desperate need for air. He swallows and breathes in through his nose. He looks down and sees Charlie staring with worried eyes. "Want to walk down to the lake?"

Charlie nods and as soon as they clear the waning crowd, his chest feels less constricted. The full moon lights up the water and the hum of katydids nearly drowns out the noise of the party.

He sits on a bench and Charlie follows, neither of them saying anything until Charlie decides to share news Nick never wanted to hear.

"Ben cornered me in the library the other day."

Nick's vision narrows and his pulse pounds in his ears. He'd thought the issue of Ben had been long put to rest, considering they hadn't spoken about him since a night in early February when Charlie got wine drunk and talked about how damaging their relationship had been.

The asshole had almost caused Charlie to slip back into old habits he'd taken years to correct.

"What?"

"It's fine," Charlie says in a rush. "I told him to go away. He got too close to me and was spouting all these horrible things and I had to push him and then I reported him to security afterwards."

"Charlie-"

"He can't come near me, anymore," Charlie says, and his mouth curves in a half smile that makes Nick feel worse.

He'd had no idea.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Charlie looks away, eyes locked on something far across the lake. "I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I'm going to worry about you Charlie, you're my best friend."

Charlie shakes his head. "I can't be your best friend, Nick."

"Why not?" It comes out more harshly than he wanted, but the thought of being rejected in this way, not even romantically, just as his friend stings.

"Because I'm me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing.

Nick lets out a bark of a laugh. "That makes no sense, Charlie."

"It makes more sense than you know," he replies, voice a near whisper as he finally looks back at Nick.

Nick sighs in frustration, months of questions without answers threatening to spill out. He knows it's not a good time, but they're finally talking again and he thinks it might be a now or never kind of thing.

"What are we doing here, Charlie?" It's something he should have asked months ago, but could never find the courage to. Now, with the moonlight as their only witness, he feels brave.

"I don't understand."

"I can't be your fake boyfriend anymore," he says bluntly and Charlie looks ashamed.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it was selfish of me."

"That's not what I mean, Charlie. You're not selfish."

"I am," Charlie says, burying his head in his hands, his voice muffled. "I keep asking you to do all these things you don't want to do."

The frustration fades from him when he hears the self-loathing clearing present in Charlie's voice, and Nick takes his wrist into his hands, gently moving Charlie's hands away from his face.

"You've never made me do anything I didn't want to," Nick says earnestly. "And I want to do so much more. Don't you?"

Putting it out into the universe feels good. He hasn't realised how much keeping this in has affected him until it's gone from his shoulders. But the relief is short-lived as Charlie's face looks stricken and his eyes start to well with tears.

"Of course, I do." His voice breaks when he speaks, "But we can't, Nick."

"Why?" He feels like a child asking it, but it's the only thing he can think to say.

"Because I'm not good for you."

"Don't I get to decide that?"

"I'm not!" Charlie stands up and starts to pace, hands clenching into fists while nervous energy radiates off of him. "I'm not good for you, Nick, no matter how badly I want to be."

"That's bullshit." Nick can feel his anger rising and he stands to his feet with it. He fights to keep it in check because this is probably the most important conversation he's ever had. "Charlie, you're my favourite person. I've never felt this way about anyone in my entire life. There's no way that can be bad. You're not bad."

Charlie's watery laugh rings out into the air. "Every other relationship I've had begs to differ."

"But this isn't every other relationship. This is me," he pleads.

"It is though. I'm dragging you down, Nick. I've taken you away from your friends."

"I had dinner with my teammates last night," he interjects, pulse racing.

"But you spend so much time with me! I'm a burden to you, the one thing I never wanted to be. Fuck, Nick, the entire reason we met was because I needed to be rescued."

"You didn't need to be rescued!" he says loudly before remembering the party full of Charlie's family happening just a hundred metres away. "I…you needed help, Charlie. You needed help getting away from an absolute dickhead who would have followed you no matter where you went. But you're not helpless. You're not some damsel in need of saving. And fuck anyone who's ever made you feel that way."

"I don't know how to explain it any differently. I'm a dead weight. I'm dragging you down. I-"

"No, you want to know what you are?" Nick interrupts, unable to hold back any longer. "You're kind and smart and hilarious and you make me think. You've shown me things I never would have seen otherwise and you feel so deeply Charlie and it's beautiful. You're beautiful, and I-"

A realisation strikes him. Slams into his chest so hard it takes his breath away while he looks at Charlie's tear-damp face. He's fighting a battle he can't win. Not when the other side has already laid down arms and refused to even begin a fight.

And so, Nick is defeated.

"I can't convince you that we'd be good together. And we would be, Charlie. So fucking good. Like, rest of our lives, cute house in the suburbs with a picket fence and a dog good."

Charlie sucks in a breath. "Nick, I-"

"You deserve the world," he keeps going because he has to get this out. "But I can't make you believe that, even though I would gladly give it to you every day of my life if you would just let me."

Charlie isn't crying anymore, but he doesn't say anything either. Just stands, unmoving.

"But I deserve the world, too, Charlie, and I can't keep doing this."

He waits, counting long seconds in his head, the last of his hope holding out that maybe, maybe, Charlie will tell him to wait. Nick looks at him, trying to memorise every last detail of his face and chest and arms and legs. Because as much as this hurts, as much as it will debilitate him for weeks, months, years, he never ever wants to forget him.

This perfect soul whom he could have made so happy if he'd only been given the chance.

"I'm so sorry, Nick," Charlie says, and he sounds about as broken as Nick feels, but it's of little comfort as Nick turns and begins to walk back towards the car park.

Sorry.

Charlie uses the word so much it's nearly lost all of its meaning and Nick can't stomach any more.

"Bye, Charlie."

He isn't really sure how he makes it back to his car, how he holds it together enough to leave without arousing the suspicion of Charlie's entire family, but he does. Leaning into the numbness, he drives in complete silence, pretending he doesn't care that Charlie now has no way to get home in the morning.

He doesn't have the right to care about Charlie anymore, though it will take him a ridiculous amount of time to really stop.

It's only when he sits down on his bed in total darkness an hour later, door closed and lock flipped, that he finally lets himself fall apart at the seams.

oOo

A banging wakes him up the next morning. Blearily, he looks at the clock and sees that it's only just past seven. He closes his eyes back, content to let whomever it is realise they're a fucking idiot for pounding on someones door on a Sunday morning, but it just keeps keeps going, growing ever more persistent as the seconds tick by.

Nick groans as he throws the covers off and pads out into the hallway. He's exhausted in a way that only a good night of crying can leave someone, and he can already tell a long nap is in his future.

There's no sign of anyone else as he walks through the house. Christian and Sai are no doubt sleeping round their girlfriend's places, and he's glad because there's probably at least another hour or so of crying he needs to get out of his system before he can even hope to function like a shell of a human.

He's officially annoyed when he flings the door open. "For fucks sake, what-"

It's pouring down rain, and a completely soaked Charlie stands in front of him. His hair is plastered to his face and clothes cling to his body as he breathes heavily from exertion.

"Charlie!" Nick tries to cry out, but his voice is tired from not being used in so many hours and it comes out more of a croak. His sadness dissipates for a brief moment while worry takes over. "Get inside, you'll catch your death."

"No," Charlie says firmly with an emphatic shake of his head. "Not until I've said what I came to say."

A full body shiver runs through him, and Nick tries to protest again, but Charlie keeps going.

"Do you remember the night we met? How we told each other our darkest shit?"

"Yeah?" Nick replies completely confused how this might be relevant now.

"I think I left some stuff out," Charlie says with a shy smile and Nick finds himself

"O…k?"

Charlie takes a deep breath, drops of rain dripping from his eyelashes to his nose and lips. "I should have told you that I'm terrified of being a burden. That for so much of my life the world has told me that that's all I am, and that I don't deserve to really be loved. My belief that that is true wound up being way more deep seeded than I realised."

Nick stays quiet despite the words that so desperately want to escape his mouth. He's worried if he says anything, Charlie will lose his obviously hard won nerve

You do deserve it. You are loved. I love you.

"I should have told you that you're amazing and that I'd fallen for you before the night was over. I should have told you that I'm selfish because I had to keep you in my life and that I would jokingly call you my boyfriend for months because I wanted it to be true."

"I wanted it to be true, too."

"But I should have also told you that I wouldn't let it happen, because I tend to self-sabotage myself even when it's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I want it so badly it keeps me up at night."

Charlie pauses and wipes wet bangs off of his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry I hurt you. That I pushed you away, but still kept you close. You do deserve the world, and I let my self-doubt get in the way of that."

Nick closes his eyes, trying to calm his ever day-dreaming heart that is up and running again, full steam ahead. "But you're…here now?" he asks and Charlie nods.

"I am."

"And what does that mean?"

Charlie grins and Nick does too without thinking. "Well, after you left, my sister and I had words."

"Words?"

"She heard the entire conversation."

"What? How? There wasn't anyone around."

Charlie laughs. "She has an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere."

"And what did she say?"

"She told me I was being an absolute idiot." He looks down to his feet, scuffing his wet Converse against the welcome mat. "That it was obvious you loved me and that I loved you too. That I was being ridiculous if I let my insecurities get in the way of something I so obviously wanted. She agreed that we'd be really good together."

"I always knew I liked her," Nick says, which is a total lie considering they'd just met and she scares the living daylights out of him.

Charlie's hand comes up to lightly hit his chest. "You just met her," he admonishes and Nick grabs his offending hand, lacing their fingers together, revelling in the feeling of skin he never thought he'd touch again.

"I obviously have a lot to work on," Charlie continues.

"We all do."

"But if it's not too late…" he trails off and Nick takes his other hand.

"I mean, it's a good thing you showed up so early, because ten would have been the cutoff time."

Charlie glares but there's no heat behind it. "You're an ass."

Nick takes a step closer. "Do you have any other things you need to get off your chest?"

"Just one," Charlie whispers before stepping onto his toes and closing the gap between them.

It's a kiss hard fought and won by two people who should have been together all along, but insisted on taking the long way. That doesn't stop Nick from being absolutely joyous as his lips slide against Charlie's.

He might have floated away had it not been for his fingers sliding in Charlie's hair while his palms cupped wet cheeks, anchored by the sweet taste of the boy he loves finally kissing him.

Nick can feel his entire front is soaked from Charlie's body being pressed so tightly against his. He trembles, but he's sure it isn't from the cold so much as it is from the feeling of Charlie's mouth opening to him as he deepens the kiss, tilting Charlie's back for better access.

He's rewarded with a sinful sounding hum of approval as Charlie clings to him and Nick knows nothing will ever top this. Nothing could ever be better than this.

Nick eases the kiss when he feels Charlie's leg start to shake and he hazily remembers his propensity for always being cold.

"Are you ready to come inside now?" Nick breathes after they've pulled back and his entire being longs for more.

"Mmm," Charlie mumbles in agreement. "Do you think my boyfriend has a way to warm me up?"

Nick smiles, lighter and happier than he's been in maybe his entire life. "I'm sure he can think of something."

oOo

Charlie Spring doesn't like going to parties. They're loud. The alcohol is shitty. There's too many people doing too many stupid things.

But his boyfriend is popular and gets invited to them all the time, so Charlie often finds himself in a secluded corner where he either makes out heavily with said boyfriend or loses himself in his phone while said boyfriend is social.

He and Nick have long since moved in together, but this party happens to be held by Nick's old roommates in the very house they met in two years before. It makes Charlie feel more at ease than he normally would, the landscape familiar and he just happens to know that Nick's old room isn't currently occupied by anyone, which he's sure will come in handy at some point in the evening.

He looks up, realising it's been several minutes since Nick left to go refill their drinks. He's slightly worried because Nick's cheeks were starting to glow pink when he walked away, a sure sign that he is well on his way to tipsy.

When Charlie spots him he laughs.

Nick is still by the drink station, two plastic cups clutched so tightly in his hands that they look about to break. Charlie can tell even from a distance he's uncomfortable, and it's easy to see why.

A gorgeous brunette is looking at him like he's hung the stars, standing far too close and completely enraptured at whatever Nick is telling her.

Charlie sighs and shakes his head fondly as he rises from the sofa, making his way through the throngs of people milling about.

He reaches Nick and attaches himself to the strong arms he has no doubt will be lifting him up against a wall before the night is over.

Nick looks down in surprise and Charlie sees recognition turn into relief.

"You alright, love?" he asks and Nick smiles.

"Thank fuck," he blurts and Charlie snorts trying to hold back a laugh. Nick is always at his bluntest when he's tipsy.

He turns back to the girl in front of them. "This is my real boyfriend, Charlie."

She looks embarrassed and stumbles out an apology to Charlie. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I never would have-"

"It's fine," Charlie assures, beginning to lead Nick away from her. "It happens more than you'd think. Why don't we go and get some air, hmm?"

Nick nods and waves, forgetting his hands are full of cups and beer sloshes out onto his hands. "Bye!"

They make it back to the couch and after dumping their drinks on a nearby table, Nick unceremoniously pulls Charlie into his lap.

Charlie grins, his legs straddling either side of Nick's hips as Nick leans up to kiss him deeply.

When they break apart, both their chests heaving from the lack of oxygen and hormones surging through them, Nick closes his eyes.

"Thank you for rescuing me," he says in his normal voice, but Charlie has to strain to hear him over the blaring music.

Charlie tucks a wayward strand of blonde hair behind Nick's ear. "You didn't need rescuing, silly."

"I did."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"I think my boyfriend would say you just needed some help. There's a difference."

Nick groans. "You can't use my own words against me."

Charlies leans down and pecks the tip of his nose. "I can and I will."

Nick's brown eyes look at him in a way that ensures his tendency to be cold will always have a solution.

"I love you."

"I love you," Charlie replies as reverently as he can while indulging himself in a grind against Nick's lap, enjoying how just a simple movement can make Nick come undone.

"Maybe we really do need to get some air," Nick says breathlessly and Charlie smiles so wide he's sure the dimples Nick always fawns over are on full display.

"I know just the place."