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There’s a hole in Nick’s jumper, right on the underarm seam. He didn’t notice it at first, when he grabbed it on his way out the door, but now it’s all he can think about. He’s needed new clothes for a while now. He avoids clothes shopping at all costs; most of his jumpers are worn out and the ones that aren’t have had an almost permanent place in Charlie’s closet for the last year. Nick doesn’t mind, and as much as he teases Charlie for it, he kind of loves it when Charlie wears his clothes. It feels a bit like a signal to the world that Charlie is his, or maybe that he’s Charlie’s. Or both.
But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s shivering as he walks along the main road with Tara and Darcy, Starbucks hot chocolate in hand–he doesn’t really like coffee but he does like whipped cream. He really can’t understand how Darcy can drink iced coffee in this weather, but that’s what she’s sipping on, some sugar-filled frappe, while Tara, ever the more sensible one of the two, opted for a hot chai latte.
“What do you think Nick?” Darcy is asking, snapping Nick back into the present.
Nick blinks. “Uh, sorry, about what?”
Darcy rolls her eyes. “About me getting a tattoo.”
“Oh, wow,” Nick swallows. He doesn’t think he could ever be brave enough to get a tattoo, to have something on his skin forever. He thinks his mum might have a heart attack if he ever did. “That would be so cool. What would you get?”
Darcy laughs. “Mate, have you just not been listening this entire time?”
Nick flushes, sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Are you alright?” Tara asks, voice laced with concern. “Is Charlie okay?”
Nick knows why she’s asking. This hangout was initially supposed to be a double date, but at the last minute, Charlie’s mum informed him that they were going to visit his grandma. Nick told Tara and Darcy this earlier, but he doesn’t blame Tara for wondering if it’s the whole truth. “Charlie is fine. I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Darcy raises a sceptical eyebrow. “You know, whenever anybody says ‘it’s nothing’ it is almost always something.”
Tara puts a hand on her hip and stares him down in a way that only Tara Jones can, like she can see right through him. Maybe she can. He's pretty sure she knew how he felt about Charlie as soon as he mentioned him at Harry Greene's birthday party. “Talk to us, Nick.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “My jumper has a hole in it.”
His friends blink at him, obviously not following. “So, buy a new one, then?”
“I just,” he searches for the words to explain this feeling, the discomfort he sometimes feels when he looks in the mirror, his reflection becoming more and more foreign to him each day. “I hate clothes shopping. When I was little I always just let my mum pick everything out, and when I got older I just bought what my friends were buying for the most part. Not that I don’t like my joggers and hoodies and plain blue jeans, but like…I don’t think—I don’t know if that’s really me anymore.”
Darcy and Tara share a knowing glance, but it’s Tara who speaks first. “I know what you mean. It can be hard to find your own sense of style.”
“Yeah,” Darcy agrees. “But, y’know, I do think you have one.” She gestures at his legs, at his cuffed jeans and vans. “And it’s very bisexual of you.”
Nick snorts. “That’s the goal.” He has tried to show more of himself in his clothes. It's just scary sometimes.
“But you have to admit,” she continues, “you do dress like a straight boy sometimes.”
Nick wants to argue, but he honestly can’t. He knows it’s true. Arbitrary and silly (if sexuality actually correlated to fashion, Tao would not be straight), but true nonetheless. “I just…how do I dress gayer while still dressing like me?” He feels supremely stupid saying it, but his friends just look sympathetic.
“We could help you,” Tara suggests. “We could turn this hangout into a shopping trip?”
“Really?” Nick downs the last of his hot chocolate. “You would do that?”
“Are you kidding?” Darcy’s eyes are alight with excitement. “Nicholas Nelson, I’m going to make you my new project.”
Anxiety creeps up the back of Nick’s neck. “Your new project?”
“Yep,” Darcy chirps, cheerfully. “Operation Make Nick Look Gayer.”
Tara rolls her eyes fondly. “Darcy, you’re ridiculous.”
Darcy pecks her girlfriend on the cheek. “And yet, you love me.”
They head to the shops, and thirty minutes later Nick finds himself standing in a changing room, checking out his reflection. His heart is in his throat as he takes in the powder blue short sleeve top that Darcy has picked out for him. He’s surprised by how much he doesn’t hate it. The fabric is loose, soft and comfortable, and she knows him well enough to have picked a colour he likes and thinks looks good on him. Honestly, it’s a top he would’ve picked himself if not for one detail. The fabric cuts off midway down his torso, curling up, and exposing his mid-drift and belly button.
Nick’s never worn a crop top, has always thought of them as more for girls, but now he can’t stop staring at himself in the mirror, running his hands over the cotton fabric. He likes the way it looks, or he thinks he does, at least. Something settles in his chest, the way it did after he kissed Charlie for the first time, and he knows it's right, even if that thought terrifies him.
“What do you think?” Darcy asks when he steps out of the changing room.
“I think I like it,” Nick admits bashfully. “What do you guys think? Does it look okay?”
“The guy with the six-pack is asking if he looks good in a crop top?” Tara laughs. “Are you even aware of how hot you are?”
Nick burns bright red. He knows he’s muscular, obviously, but he also knows that there’s a layer of fat over those muscles that pushes out when he breathes. A layer of fat that is fully exposed by the crop top. “Shut up. You’re not even into men.”
“Which is how you know she’s being honest,” Darcy points out. “We’re lesbians, not blind.”
“Fair,” Nick concedes. “So you think I should buy it?”
“Will you wear it?” Tara asks, hand on her hip. “If you won’t actually wear it, don’t buy it.”
Nick thinks about it for a moment. He can’t quite imagine wearing it in public, but he imagines wearing it at home. He imagines pairing it with his favourite pair of grey joggers, the old pair that’s just slightly too tight—just tight enough to catch Charlie’s attention, which may or may not be the reason they’re his favourite. He imagines the look on Charlie’s face, blue eyes wide and dark and wanting. He smiles to himself. “Yeah,” he says. “I think I would.”
Darcy cheers, a big grin on her face, before clapping her hands together. “Okay, what’s next?”
“Well, this did start with a hole in Nick’s jumper,” Tara points out. “Maybe we should start there.”
“Fair point,” Nick agrees.
“To the outerwear!” Darcy shouts, pointing in the vague direction of that section of the shop.
The three of them wander through the aisles of clothes, waiting for something to pop out at them, but nothing does. Darcy holds up a few things: studded leather jackets, and brightly coloured floral bomber jackets, but none of them really catch Nick’s fancy. They’ve made it to the end of the section, and are about to give up, when Nick sees it.
Light blue denim, soft fleece lining, extra pockets. He can already imagine pairing it with one of his button-ups.
“That one,” he points to the jacket. “I want that one.”
Tara glances at it with a grin.
Darcy snorts. “Well, that tracks.”
Nick grabs it and tries it on over his hoodie, and it’s perfect. It’s his style, but just… more. Better.
“So, what are you going to wear with it?” Darcy asks, clearly already planning something.
“Not sure,” Nick answers quietly. “Maybe a button-up?”
Darcy rolls her eyes. “How do you feel about skinny jeans, Nick?”
Nick blinks. “Uh.”
Honestly, Nick isn’t sure how he feels about skinny jeans, having never worn them before. But after the crop top and the denim jacket, he’s feeling a little braver. He follows where Darcy leads.
Something is up with Nick. Something has been up with Nick all week. Ever since he spent Sunday with Tara and Darcy. He won’t tell Charlie what he did with the girls, only that he had a good time. It gnaws at Charlie. Is Nick mad at him for not being able to come? What isn’t Nick telling him?
Nick doesn’t seem mad. More anxious? Which doesn’t make any sense. Maybe Nick thinks Charlie is mad or upset? But why would he think that? Has Charlie done something to make Nick think that?
Charlie sighs, burying his head in his pillows. It’s Friday now, and Nick was supposed to come home with Charlie this afternoon. They were going to study (read: make out and crumple their notes in the process) and hang out (read: make out some more), before meeting up with the rest of their friend group at the cinema. But Nick changed the plans, saying he had to help his mum with something at home before the movie.
Nick is a terrible liar. Wherever he is, he’s not at home with his mum.
Charlie’s stomach twists. Rationally, he knows that if Nick was upset with him, Nick would just tell him. Nick isn’t passive-aggressive, he doesn’t bottle things up and lash out later. He’s always just honest about his feelings. It’s one of the things Charlie loves the most about him. But knowing that in his rational brain doesn’t stop his anxiety brain from running wild.
Nick is going to dump him. He’s sure of it.
His phone dings. And dings again. And again. He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Nick, double and triple texting as usual.
I can’t wait to see you tonight!!
I know it’s only been a couple of hours but I miss you already!!
I love you so much!!!
Charlie smiles. The anxiety isn’t completely gone, but it’s hard to believe Nick plans on dumping him with texts like that in front of him.
I love you too!!!!
Feeling a bit better, Charlie pulls himself out of bed and towards his closet. He grabs his favourite jeans and a red checked shirt and darts down the stairs. His parents are out with Olly, and Tori’s round Michael’s, but his plan is to eat dinner before going out, so he pulls out his meal plan and starts cooking.
After eating what he considers a decent meal, he throws on his converse and heads out to the cinema. Tao and Elle are already there when he arrives, bickering over which film to see.
“What do you think, Charlie?” Tao asks. “Should we see the film I want to watch, which is beautiful and artistic, or should we watch Elle’s pick?”
Charlie glances at Elle, who is rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.
“My pick is that new B horror movie,” she says. “It’s supposed to be really campy.”
Charlie grins. “Definitely the camp horror.” If this choice means Nick will be clinging to his hand and burying his face into Charlie’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to see the really scary parts, well. Tao and Elle don’t need to know his reasons.
Tao groans. “Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“Why is Charlie the worst?” Isaac asks, appearing out of nowhere, book in hand as usual, despite their planned activity.
“He voted for camp horror,” Tao supplies with a flat affect.
Elle grins at him.
“Ah,” Isaac gives Charlie a knowing glance. “Well, that’s hardly surprising. I vote for that, too.”
Tao squawks indignantly.
Isaac laughs. “Charlie just wants Nick to jump into his lap.”
Charlie flushes. “Shut up, Isaac!”
Tao makes a fake gagging sound. “There will be no canoodling with anyone’s boyfriend during this film.”
Elle bats her eyes at him. “Not even me and my boyfriend?”
Tao turns a deep crimson and clears his throat. “Anyways,” he says, “Speaking of Nick, where even is he? Wasn’t he going to yours after school?”
Charlie frowns. “He was, he—he cancelled. He said he had to do something for his mum, but I know he was lying.”
“Oh.” Tao swallows, clearly sensing Charlie’s anxiety. “Well, Nick’s like, completely obsessed with you, so I’m sure he has a good reason for lying. Maybe he’s trying to surprise you?”
“Maybe.” Charlie knew Tao was probably right, but it was still so hard to believe.
They stand there on the pavement for a few moments, the mood successfully ruined, and all Charlie’s fault. He clenches and unclenches his fist.
Tao and Elle exchange unsubtly concerned glances. Isaac is already reading again.
Charlie opens his mouth to say something, though he’s not sure exactly what, when he’s interrupted by a voice behind him.
“We’re here!” Darcy yells. “And we have a surprise!”
“A surprise?” Elle asks, cocking her head to the side, the neon lights of the cinema marquee reflecting off her glasses.
Isaac glances up from his book, looking moderately interested.
“Well,” Tara laughs. “Mainly it’s a surprise for Charlie.”
Elle raises an eyebrow. Tao huffs. Isaac goes back to his book.
That’s when Charlie finally turns to look at Tara and Darcy and sees Nick trailing behind them, looking rather nervous.
“I knew you weren’t helping your, mum!” Charlie blurts before he can stop himself. “You’re a terrible liar, Nicholas Nelson.”
Nick cowers slightly behind Tara, despite her both being shorter and thinner than him. “I’m sorry I lied, Charlie,” he mumbles. “Darcy convinced me it would be better as a surprise.”
“Alright, then,” Charlie huffs, suddenly feeling a lot less anxious. Of course, Darcy dragged Nick into some shenanigans. Of course, Nick wasn’t planning on dumping him. But that doesn’t mean he’s letting Nick off the hook so easy. “What’s this surprise? It better be good.”
Tara and Darcy finally part, revealing Nick in his entirety, and oh.
Holy Mother of God.
Nick is wearing new clothes. Charlie likes to think that, after a year and a half of knowing Nick and over a year of dating him, he knows Nick’s wardrobe as well as his own. And the only thing he recognizes is the beat-up pair of red and black vans he’s sporting.
The fleece-lined denim jacket, a far cry from his usual hoodies and jumpers, is definitely new. It suits him. The button-up underneath the jacket is also new—similar to other shirts Nick wears, but in a soft shade of pink, patterned with colourful leaves. It’s quite a bit more eye-catching than Nick’s usual choices, and as Charlie notices the buttons straining against Nick’s chest, ever so slightly tighter.
And then there are the trousers. Usually, Nick wears joggers, and sometimes, plain blue jeans. Maybe khakis or chinos. Obviously his school slacks. But these? These are tight black skinny jeans. They hug the curves of Nick’s muscular thighs in all the right ways, leaving very little to the imagination (not that Charlie would need to imagine it anyway).
The finishing touch is Nick’s nails, which are painted a light, glittery pink that matches his button-up. Charlie’s seen Nick with painted nails before, usually after a night in with Tara and Darcy, but he’s never seen Nick wear them so proudly in public.
And that’s really what’s so breathtaking about Nick at that moment. It's not just the new clothes, it's that he looks confident, and he looks like himself. He’s not the Rugby King, he’s not a popular boy, he's not one of the lads, he’s just Nick. Charlie loves Nick’s joggers and hoodies, and he knows Nick does, too, but this—this is the first time Nick on the outside and Nick on the inside really seem to match. He looks incredible. He looks happy.
Charlie can’t tear his eyes away.
“Well?” Nick raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
Charlie blinks. “What—Oh,” he knows he must be blushing like mad. “You look amazing.”
Darcy cackles victoriously. Tara smiles smugly.
“You think so?” Nick fixes his hair, a nervous tick. “I mean I really like it, but I know it’s different—“
“It’s not,” Charlie shakes his head. “Different, I mean. Not really. This has always been you.”
Nick’s nerves visibly melt away and his expression softens. “That’s what I thought, too.”
“Also, you look, like, really hot,” Charlie adds.
Nick looks like he’s about to say something, probably to flirt back, but Tao cuts him off before he can.
“Alright, the film is starting in ten minutes,” he says. “Let’s go in.”
The mass of them surges through the door. Charlie’s hand finds its way into Nick’s.
“What movie are we seeing?” Nick asks casually.
“A horror movie,” Tao answers, waving the tickets that he must've purchased while Charlie was busy ogling Nick. “Elle’s suggestion.”
Nick groans.
Charlie smiles to himself over the realization that Tao, the most stubborn person alive, caved to Elle.
As the group of them pass through the lobby of the cinema, Charlie stops in his tracks. "You all go ahead, I just want to grab some popcorn.”
Nick waits until they’ve all disappeared behind the auditorium doors to turn to Charlie. “You’ve never bought popcorn at the cinema in your life.”
“Hm,” Charlie pretends to consider this. “Then I guess I can’t start now.” He doesn’t give Nick a chance to respond before he backs him into a hidden corner, right up against the wall of the cinema and kisses him as though his life depends on it. His hands rest on Nick’s hips, while (as usual) Nick’s find their way into his hair. It’s a little bit urgent, perhaps a bit too heated for a public place, but Charlie can’t help himself. He doesn’t think Nick minds, if the eager way he kisses back is anything to go by.
By the time they break apart, they’re both panting.
“So,” Nick manages. “You really like the look then.”
“I really like you,” Charlie responds. “Also, I’m really hoping you’ll take me home with you after the movie.”
Nick grins. “I don’t know, I may need some more convincing.”
They miss the first ten minutes of the movie and everyone notices that Charlie hasn’t bought any popcorn, but neither of them cares.
It’s more than worth it. It always is.
