Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charlie looks at the pile of clothes on his bed. None of them feel right. There’s nothing to wear.

“Do I have to go this stupid speed dating thing?” he asks Elle, as she tries to find yet another outfit combination for him. She’s already picked out five different options, and he’s rejected every single one. 

“No, you don’t have to go,” she sighs, “but I would really appreciate it if you did. You don’t even have to find someone to date! It’s a queer speed dating event, so you could at least make some new friends.”

Charlie looks at Elle as she digs through his closet for what seems like the tenth time this evening. He would rather do literally anything else other than speed dating. Elle registered him for the event a week ago, claiming he needed to get out of his apartment more often than going grocery shopping once a week. Not to mention, he hasn’t gone on a date in almost two years.

He’s had a few relationships over the past ten years. The first one was during secondary school, but his “boyfriend”, if you could even consider him that, Ben was an abusive piece of shit who didn’t actually care about Charlie, or anyone really. Then there was James, who was kind, caring, and felt like the perfect boyfriend. They dated throughout university, but split ways after graduation, both agreeing that they really didn’t have anything in common other than being gay and in close proximity. Thomas, his most recent ex-boyfriend, was nothing special. Just someone to fill the void.

After that, Charlie briefly tried online dating. He lasted two whole months before deciding it was definitely not for him. He had a handful of mediocre first dates, and the hook-ups used to be fun, but now he wants a meaningful relationship. He wants to be swept off his feet by a beautiful man and ride off into the sunset. But that’s not how life works, apparently.

He groans dramatically. “Fine, but if this goes terribly wrong, it’ll be your fault,” he jokes, yet he knows he's only partially kidding. “But that still doesn’t solve the problem of having nothing to wear!”

“Just wear what’s most comfortable. If you’re going to be anxious, then your outfit will be one less thing to worry about. How about this maroon button up?” she says, holding up a shirt he’s worn countless times since sixth form, “ I know this was your favorite shirt when you used to go on dates, once upon a time.” 

He sighs in defeat. “Alright, fine.” He grabs the shirt, a pair of distressed black jeans, and some matching maroon converse. Charlie gets dressed as Elle puts away the clothing tornado that hit his bedroom.

He puts the finishing touches on his curly, dark brown hair. His curls are actually behaving for once, thank god. He puts his phone, keys, and wallet into his pockets and waits for Elle by the door.

“All set? You’re sure you don’t need a ride?” she asks, while grabbing her purse from the kitchen counter.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s only a 15 minute walk,” he reassures her. He opens the front door to his apartment and Elle walks past him, into the hallway.

“Alright, but if you need me to come pick you up, just call me. But at least stay 30 minutes before you decide to ditch!” She gives him a tight hug, then walks over to her car.

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I know.” He locks the front door and makes his way to the pub.

“What about this one?” Nick says after trying yet another shirt. This final outfit choice includes a pair of khaki pants, a white t-shirt, and an open light green button up. 

Imogen scans his outfit and smiles. “Yes, much better! This one brings out your strong rugby arms. You’ll catch the attention of every man, woman, and enby in that pub.” She’s way more excited about this than Nick is.

“I don’t know if that’s what I’m going for, Im.” Nick sighs and attempts to calm his nerves by rubbing his left bicep. He would rather catch the attention of no one in that pub. He’s tired of people losing interest the moment he tells them he’s demisexual. He seems to only attract people who desperately want to have sex on the first date, or are just looking for hook-ups. Dating apps never work for him and neither will this speed dating event. 

Nick’s love life has been, in general, quite uneventful. He had a girlfriend, Emma, for about two seconds at the beginning of year 13 before he realized he might be Not Straight. He ended that relationship in a panic and decided to focus on himself for the remainder of sixth form. When he got to uni, he never understood the obsession with casual sex and hook-up culture, and after another soul search, he realized he was demisexual. Following this epiphany, he briefly had a boyfriend, Callum, but they didn’t last long after Nick expressed his lack of interest in sex. 

His last long-term relationship ended three years ago when Jess, his girlfriend of ten months, received a job offer from a company in Manchester. Nick decided he didn’t want to upend his life to move to Manchester for someone he didn’t feel too strongly about, so they broke up and went their separate ways. In retrospect, they didn’t have that much in common, so he was thankful the relationship ended before it was too late.

He briefly tried online dating for three months, but deemed it useless for finding a meaningful romantic relationship while being aspec.

Imogen gives him a gentle smile. “Nick, I’m sorry. I know you don’t have the best luck with your love life, but I think this will be good for you. I know hopeless romantic Nick still exists in there somewhere,” she says while lovingly poking his stomach. She looks at the pile of shoes in Nick’s wardrobe, and hands him a pair of green vans. “Here, I think these will finish the look quite nicely.”

“Thanks, Im. I know I’m being stubborn, but I really appreciate you helping me.” He bends down to tie his shoes as Imogen tidies his room a bit. 

She gives him a blinding smile. “That’s what best friends are for! Now let’s get going, you can’t be late!” She takes one last look at him and shoos him towards the door. 

He looks over his shoulder, “I’m going, I’m going! You’re still walking with me to the pub, yeah?” Imogen walks out the door and locks it for him, then hands him his keys. “I’m just really nervous about this.” He rubs the back of his neck and waits for her response.

She puts her hand on his shoulder. “Nick, if you want me to walk you there, I will. I know you’re anxious, but you don’t even have to find a potential partner! Just have fun, and maybe you’ll make a new friend! You’re one of the most likable people ever !”

He gives a confused look and scrunches his eyebrows, “I’m not so sure about that.” He might be kind and charismatic, but he’s definitely not the most likable person ever . “Didn’t you just say we can’t be late?”

“Yes I did, so let’s go! Onward!” Imogen starts walking away from the door of Nick’s flat. 

“Hey, wait up!” He runs up to her, and they make their way to the pub, hand in hand.

Charlie looks up at the glowing rainbow sign above his head that reads “Gin & Iconic”. He snorts at the horrendous pun and checks his phone to find a text from Elle.

(19:43) Elle Smells: Good luck, tonight! You’re gonna smash it 💜

He sends a quick reply and takes a deep breath. He can do this. He only has to stay for thirty minutes and then he can leave. Just be charismatic for thirty minutes, then you can go home and drown your sorrows with Netflix and chocolate, he thinks to himself. He looks down at his feet and finally takes a step towards the pub. 

As he opens the door, he’s greeted with an assortment of queer people; some are dressed “stereotypically” queer and others look seemingly more “normal”. Scanning the crowd, he suddenly feels overwhelmed and considers booking it out the door. He closes his eyes to ground himself and continues forward.

Charlie looks ahead and notices a registration table covered in name tags. He heads towards the table labeled ‘R – T’, and his eyes begin scanning for his last name. He avoids eye contact with the person behind the table, but when he looks up he’s greeted by a beaming smile and bright purple hair. He instantly feels more comfortable and gives the person a soft smile. “Hi, um, I’m here for the speed dating event?” He looks down and finds ‘Charlie Spring (he/him)’ at the center of the table. 

“Well, lucky for you, you’re in the right place!” She has her own name tag with ‘Wren (she/they)’ written in alternating rainbow colors. They give him a warm smile and continue their introduction, “My name is Wren, as you can see,” she points to her name tag and giggles, “we’re about to get started, so you can wait over there with everyone else. If you need anything, just give me a shout! Enjoy!”

He puts the name tag on the left side of his shirt, then gives Wren a polite nod. “Thanks.” He walks towards the crowd of people and feels his anxiety take over. He fiddles with his sleeves and tries to take a few deep breaths. You’re okay, you’re safe. Everyone here is queer. They’re probably very lovely, he tries to reassure himself. He takes a seat in the corner of the pub, away from everyone. He closes his eyes, brings the cuff of his sleeve to his nose and inhales, a self soothing strategy he’s had since he was a kid. The smell instantly grounds him and he feels a small wave of confidence wash over his body. He can do this.

He looks up and notices Wren standing in front of the crowd, tapping a microphone. “Alright, everyone, let’s get started!”

He can do this.

“Thanks for walking with me, Im. I feel much better now.” Nick grins at Imogen and squeezes her hand before letting go.

“Anything for my Nicky,” she says while pinching his cheeks. “Now, go on,” she motions Nick towards the door, “text me if you need anything! But I have a feeling you won’t.” She smirks and gives him a tight hug before walking away.

“What does that even mean?!” he yells in her direction, but she’s already out of earshot. He sighs and makes his way inside the pub. A person with bright purple hair is tapping a microphone in front of a reasonably sized crowd, as he makes a beeline for the table marked ‘N – Q’. He immediately finds ‘Nick Nelson (he/him)’ among the five remaining name tags, and puts it on his shirt. As he walks towards the crowd, the person with the purple hair, who he now knows is named Wren courtesy of their name tag, begins speaking. 

“Alright, everyone, let’s get started!”

Let’s get this over with, I guess, he thinks to himself as he makes his way to an open barstool.

Chapter Text

Charlie tries to ignore his brewing anxiety and focuses on Wren as she explains logistics, “if you all look at the bottom right corner of your name tags, you will see one or two dots in blue, orange, or green. This corresponds to which tables you’ll be sitting at tonight.” They point over their shoulder, where each table has a colored flag in the center. “So, for example, Lily over here,” a short, blonde woman waves her hand in the air, “is a bisexual woman, so she has an orange dot and a green dot. I know this can be a bit confusing, so we also have keys posted on the walls around the pub.” 

Turning his head to the right, Charlie finds the nearest wall and, sure enough, notices a poster explaining the color system.

Blue - men attracted to men

Orange - women attracted to women

Green - people attracted to two or more genders

He looks down at his name tag and notices the blue dot in the bottom right corner. Searching for the best table, he scans the pub and tries to find every blue flag. He counts six before he locates the perfect one in a secluded corner. It’s surrounded by the least amount of tables, and hence people, which is ideal for easing his anxiety. 

Right, I just need to claim that table, and then I’ll be fine, he thinks, as Wren continues. “You’ll have fine minutes with each person, so when I call time, please move to the next table. Any questions?” After five seconds of silence pass, she concludes her spiel, “there’s about fifty of you, so if twenty-five people could please go sit at a table that matches your colored dot, that would be great!”

As a handful of people trickle towards the back of the pub, Charlie fumbles out of his current seat and pushes past the crowd. He doesn’t notice Wren’s polite, reassuring smile as he makes his way to his home base for the night.

As Wren gives instructions to everyone, Nick stands behind the crowd of people and sends Imogen a text.

(20:03) Nick: Why did I let you convince me to do this?

(20:04) Immy: STOP TEXTING ME!! I’M IGNORING YOU NOW

(20:04) Nick: Yeah, yeah. 🙄

He chuckles to himself, but soon realizes that he hasn’t been paying attention as Wren’s voice comes back into focus, “....so if twenty-five people could please go sit at a table that matches your name tag, that would be great!” 

Shit, am I supposed to be doing something, he feels the anxiety stirring in his stomach. Before his brain can catch up with his body, he’s already tapping someone on the shoulder. They look confused, so he continues, “Um, sorry, are we supposed to follow them?” He hopes to GOD he doesn’t look like a complete idiot right now. Great start to the night, Nicholas.

Luckily, the stranger has some mercy for poor Nick, and they shake their head, “Nope, I think Wren got their twenty-five people.” They give him a soft smile, then direct their attention back towards the rest of the crowd. 

Nick gains the ability to breathe again and manages a quiet response, “Right, thanks.” Putting his phone on silent, he makes the executive decision to give speed dating a chance, even if it’s for the bare minimum of thirty minutes.

Wren detaches the microphone from its stand and finishes their last set of instructions. “Now, the rest of you can go ahead and find a seat at the appropriate table.” She walks towards the bar and settles on a barstool, ”You all can start mingling! I’ll start the timer for seven minutes for this first round, just to get everyone settled. Let’s have some fun!”

Approaching the sea of options, Nick searches for a good tablemate. Should he pick green or blue? Man, woman, or enby? Who looks the friendliest? The choices are overwhelming and he can feel beads of sweat on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries to erase his mind. Just pick one.

He throws caution to the wind and picks the first table in his line of sight. A woman with long, brown hair and a beautiful red smock dress is looking down at her phone. In front of her is a small green flag, much to his relief. 

Nick clears his throat, “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Caught by surprise, she frantically puts her phone away and smiles at him, “Yes, of course!” He doesn’t miss the way her eyes keep drifting to his biceps. “My name is Jennifer, by the way. All my friends call me Jen, though.” 

He takes a seat. “It’s nice to meet you, Jen. I’m Nick.” He notices her slight smirk, which can’t possibly be good. Maybe she’s just being friendly, he hopes. No need to jump to conclusions.

“So. Nick. How is a gorgeous man like you still single?” She props her elbow on the table and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. She then uses her free hand to twirl a small lock of hair between her fingers. 

Feeling a bit uncomfortable, he gives her the benefit of the doubt, “Um. I’m sorry?”

“I mean, c’mon, you must realize you’re extremely attractive. You must have people throwing themselves at you.” Nick can tell where this is going, and he doesn’t like it. He knows this type of flirting all too well. This is exactly what put him off from dating these past three years. 

He takes a deep breath, and forces a smile, “I guess I would rather have a more meaningful relationship. Something that isn’t so focused on the physical aspect, ya know?” He hopes she gets the message. 

Jen must not catch the hint, because she doubles down, “But the physical aspect is the best part! We can’t let those muscles go to waste.” Oh god, here we go.  

Maybe bringing up demisexuality will clear things up. “Um. Right…. Well, I’m demisexual, and sex isn’t something I’m comfortable with most of the time. So…” 

“Oh c’mon! You’re no fun, live a little! I’m sure I can give you a good time, maybe even get some of these other people to join us.” In an act of boldness, she winks. 

Like the absolute sweetheart that he is, Nick graciously lets her down, “Look. I’m sure you’re a nice girl, but I don’t think we’re very compatible.” What’s the nicest way to put this? “There are loads of other people here who I’m sure would be very excited by your… offer. But, I’m not your guy.” 

Wren calls time, freeing him from his misery, and he’s on his feet before Jen can propose something even worse. 

“Shame… Well, let me know if you change your mind.” Another wink.

He turns around and mutters to himself, “I definitely won’t.”

Waiting for the first round of torture to begin, Charlie chews his bottom lip and pulls on a loose thread at the end of his sleeve. He’s preoccupied with his swirling thoughts, as a tall man in a business suit approaches him. He gets a bad feeling, but before he can protest, it’s too late.  “Um…”

The man greets Charlie with a smirk, and takes a seat, “Hey, I’m Cameron.”

“I’m Charl-”

Cameron cuts him off, “Right, yeah. So. I’m a gay man, obviously. I work in advertising, been doing it for about ten years now.” He isn’t even looking at Charlie, more like through him. 

“Oh! That’s cool! Where do y-” He tries to engage, to no avail.

Clearly not even paying attention to Charlie, the man continues, “-and I’m really good at that, so I’ve decided to approach my dating life like making an advert. I’ve been single for a while, five years next month. I’m not really sure why, I have so much to offer, ya know.” He makes eye contact for a brief moment, sporting a confident yet disturbing smile. 

Charlie is incredibly uncomfortable, but chooses the path of least resistance. “Right…..” 

In an effort to conserve energy, he decides to tune Cameron out for the remaining four minutes. This is not a great start to the night, and he’s regretting his entire life more and more each second. Trying to ignore the existential dread, Cameron’s voice comes back into focus.

“-which is why I think cryptocurrency is the future. It’s the perfect way to-”

Like an angel descending from heaven, Wren calls time, “Alright, everyone! Great first round! Time to move to the next table.” Thank FUCK. 

Cameron stops his insufferable monologue and stands up, “Well, it was great meeting you, Chaz.” He doesn’t even bother making eye contact with Charlie, and immediately scans the crowd for his next victim. 

“It’s Charl-” he attempts to correct him, but he’s already moved to the next table. 

It hasn’t even been ten minutes, and this is going horribly. If this next person is somehow worse, I am LEAVING. He takes a deep breath and prepares for the worst.

Well, clearly, choosing a green flag went horribly. Maybe blue will be better? Nick isn’t feeling confident in his judge of character, but he needs to power through for at least twenty more minutes.

While searching for a blue flag, he notices a familiar face and feels instant relief. 

He approaches the man and grabs his attention, “Oh my god, Jamie? Jamie Roberts? From St. John’s?” A smile immediately forms on Jamie’s face.

“Nick Nelson?! It’s so great to see you, mate!” He gestures to the other side of the table, “Here, take a seat!”

Nick obliges, “How long has it been? More than ten years, yeah? How are you doing? Still playing rugby?” They haven’t seen each other since Nick took over for Jamie as rugby captain after he graduated.   

“Oh gosh, yeah, I reckon it’s been almost twelve years now. I’m doing alright, still play rugby with some mates from uni every month or so.” He pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I always had a feeling you were fruity.”

Nick lets out a booming laugh, causing a few turning heads. “None taken. You definitely knew before I did, though. I had no idea until year 13, and then I kind of hid from it until uni. But I’m all good now, I think. Had a few soul searches and settled on biromantic demisexual.”

Sometimes it feels like most people don’t understand the label Nick has chosen for himself, especially the demisexual part. He has his bad days, when he feels “broken”, but he knows this isn’t true. There are people out there who will love and accept him for who he is. Biromantic demisexual feels right to him, and that’s what matters.

Jamie is nothing but understanding, just like he was in secondary school. “That’s great! I’m glad you found labels that work for you!” He seems genuinely happy for Nick, and gives him an understanding smile. 

He knew Jamie wouldn’t react poorly, but hearing the confirmation out loud is more than comforting. 

Jamie becomes serious for a moment, “I know how hard it can be to figure yourself out. I thought I was bi until about five years ago. I had a whole crisis and everything! Luckily, I came out,” a chuckle, “pun intended, the other side as a semi confident gay man.” 

Saving Nick from any further heart-to-heart moments, he changes the subject, “Anyways, how are you doing these days? I remember you saying you wanted to be a rugby coach or something back in secondary.”

Nick instantly lights up, “No, I’m actually a primary school teacher! Year 4. I was on the rugby team in uni, but I realized I just loved the idea of working with kids and raising the next generation. It’s definitely exhausting, but so rewarding.”

Jamie listens to Nick ramble, just like he did back when they were friends at St. John’s. He listens fondly until Wren calls time once again. 

“It was so great catching up with you, Nick! We should meet up sometime and maybe play some rugby, like old times! Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” An invitation like this would usually be a polite gesture, but he really means it this time. 

“Yeah, of course! It was nice seeing you, Jamie.” And Nick really means it, too. 

The universe seems to grant Charlie some grace after that god awful experience. A short man with pastel blue hair and gold rimmed glasses slowly approaches his table. He takes a seat and stares blankly, waiting for Charlie to initiate conversation. 

Talking to new people is bad, but staring awkwardly at each other is worse. So, he ends the uncomfortable silence,“...Hi, I’m Charlie.” Maybe a compliment will ease the tension? “I like your hair!”

Barely making eye contact, the other man replies softly “Oh… thanks. I’m Oliver.” They point to the name tag that reads ‘Oliver (they/he)’ just below their left breast pocket. 

“Cool! My brother’s name is Oliver!” He doesn’t respond, so Charlie adds, “Did you want to talk about yourself first?”

“Um, no, that's okay. You can go first.” Avoiding further eye contact, they fiddle with one of their many bracelets.

Charlie scans his brain for basic information about himself, which proves to be harder than he expected, “Okay! Um…. Like I said, my name is Charlie. I’m 27 and work in publishing, editing manuscripts and stuff, you know.” What else is interesting about me? he wonders. “I’ve lived here in Kent my whole life. Um, I love music, math, and watching films with my friends.” He realizes that sounds incredibly boring. Great, riveting stuff, Charlie. “That’s all I can think of right now…” he trails off.

Oliver doesn’t look any more comfortable than he did two minutes ago, but begins to speak anyway “....Okay. My name is Oliver, I guess. I’m 31 and work at Sainsbury’s.” He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, “I know, not very exciting. Who’s 31 and works at a grocery store?” he says, more aimed at himself than at his tablemate.

Recognizing the all too familiar self doubt in Oliver’s voice, Charlie desperately wants to comfort him. He doesn’t want to scare them off, though, so he lets them continue.

They somehow look even more nervous and, surprisingly, look up to make direct eye contact. “Anyways… I guess I’ll just get this over with.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “I’m a trans man.”

Charlie feels the first positive emotion of the night and gives Oliver a beaming smile, “Oh cool! My best friend, Elle, is a trans woman. She’s been my best friend for fifteen years. She’s actually the one who signed me up for this,” he says matter-of-factly while gesturing towards the other tables. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Oliver’s shoulders visibly relax. “Oh, thank god. I’m always so worried about people reacting poorly to that.” They look much more comfortable, and for that, Charlie is grateful. 

He looks at them apologetically, “I’m really sorry you have to deal with that. I’m not trans myself, but I’ve seen a lot of the stuff Elle has to deal with.”

Charlie and Oliver spend the rest of their time together talking about their experiences with being queer, getting along like they’ve been friends for years. Maybe Elle was right.  

When they part ways, Charlie feels a bit better about the second round, but he still feels his anxiety lurking in the background. He grips the sleeves of his jumper and prepares to interact with yet another person. Oliver was great, and this next person will be, too. He doesn’t believe in manifesting, but it’s worth a try.

In his peripheral vision, a vaguely tall figure appears in front of the table and takes a seat. As Charlie looks up, he is greeted with the most beautiful man in existence. Warm brown eyes, silky strawberry blonde hair, and perfectly toned, muscular arms. His mind goes blank and he forgets how to breathe, but somehow forms one word in his daze. “Hi.”

The stranger gives Charlie the kindest eyes and the warmest smile, “Hi.”

Nick searches for the next table with a new burst of confidence. Finally talking to someone who didn’t invalidate his demisexuality felt incredible. The bar really is on the floor . Choosing a blue flag worked out great for round two, so why not pick blue again for round three?

He quickly locates a table with a blue flag, in a secluded corner of the pub. Walking slowly towards his new tablemate, he notices the person looks extremely nervous, fiddling with his sleeves and looking down at his lap. For some reason, this puts Nick at ease, knowing that someone else feels just as nervous as he does. He feels the sudden urge to comfort this man, to let him know he’s also anxious, and that it will be okay.

Arriving at the table, he grabs the chair and pulls it out slowly. He takes a seat before the man looks up at him with piercing, bright blue eyes. Nick notices the nest of bouncy curls right in front of him, staring for a little longer than what’s considered normal. His trance is broken by a soft voice, “Hi.”

Every bit of anxiety that was haunting Nick quickly washes away. Everything feels safe and warm, like coming home. “Hi.”

Chapter Text

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

The two men stare at each other for, what feels like, an eternity. They’re in their own bubble – completely entranced, the sounds of the pub slowly fading away. Neither of them say anything, but there’s no awkwardness. No, this is something else. Awe? Wonder? Longing?

A woman nearby suddenly laughs, ending their staring contest. 

Blinking his eyes back into focus, Nick decides to break the silence, “I’m Nick.” 

“Charlie.”

The curly-haired man looks downward, hunching his back, almost crumpling in on himself. He’s clearly uncomfortable. Nick feels compelled to comfort him, but being a stranger will probably make things worse if he’s not careful. So he treads lightly. 

“Are you… okay?” he asks, using the gentlest tone he can muster.

Charlie’s head snaps up and forces a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” He gulps. “I just… I don’t usually go to crowded events like this, especially if it involves meeting new people. My friends forced me to go because apparently my love life is ‘extremely depressing’ and I ‘need to get out of my flat for once’.” He glances down and sighs. “Honestly, I’m counting down the minutes until I can go home… Not that you’re not good company! I just… I’m completely out of my element. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 

“You say sorry a lot.” Nick smiles softly with a twinkle in his eye.

“Sor-”

“Don’t say it!” 

A beat. “I kind of want to say it…” 

Nick retorts, “Don’t!” 

Charlie can’t quite pinpoint it, but there’s something about Nick that feels him safe, more at ease. He’s still nervous, but something’s… different.

Cutting off his thoughts, Nick continues. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my friend also made me come to this, even though I’ve made it explicitly clear that I’m not interested in dating right now. I’ve had some less than favorable experiences with dating apps, so I stopped trying about three years ago. But my friend promised to stop bothering me about my love life if I made an effort tonight. So, here I am.” Nick realizes he’s rambling, so he attempts to wrap up his thoughts, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’m also out of my element and would like to leave as soon as possible.”

Charlies nods. “That does make me feel a bit better, actually. Thanks.” His ever-present feeling of impending doom is nowhere to be found. Huh.

A brilliant idea pops into Nick’s head. “Would you….?” Or maybe it’s a horrible idea, he thinks, “Nevermind.” He literally just said he can’t wait to go home.  

Confusion and curiosity swirl around in Charlie’s mind. “What?” 

Before he can chicken out, Nick takes a deep breath, “You can totally say no, but would you want to go somewhere else? With me?” 

Charlie stares back with a blank expression, so he rushes to clarify, “Not as, like, a date. Just to get away from the crowd. There’s a café down the road that’s probably empty since it’s a Friday night. I know you said you wanted to go home, but maybe being with one person is better than being with fifty?” You’re rambling again, Nicholas. “Again, you can absolutely say no, it was just a thought.”

Charlie should say no. Nick is a stranger, he could be an arsehole or even worse, dangerous. But something about the way he looks at Charlie with such warmth and kindness overrides his stranger danger alarm bells. Nick feels safe.  

With a new burst of confidence, Charlie stands up and offers a hand to Nick, “You know what? I would love that. Let’s get out of here.”

The tension in Nick’s shoulders finally dissipates, and he gladly accepts Charlie’s hand.

They leave their fellow speed-daters behind and burst out the door, barely missing Wren’s knowing smile. 

Nick and Charlie arrive at the small café just down the street from the pub. The handful of restaurants, shops, and pubs along this block are all queer owned and managed. It’s not much, but it makes Kent feel a bit more like home.

Like a gentleman, Nick opens the door to let Charlie through. “Did you want anything? A drink or a pastry, maybe?” he asks.

“Um…” Charlie feels slightly uncomfortable at the unexpected food question, but he quickly recovers, “Yeah, sure. Maybe just a small earl grey?”

Nick gives an affirming nod, “Coming right up!”

While Nick orders the drinks, Charlie walks towards a set of comfy chairs next to the front window. Thankfully, Nick was right about there being almost no one in the café on a Friday night. It’s significantly quieter than the pub, and he finds only one other person, working silently on their laptop. Much better.  

He takes a seat and pulls out his phone to check the time – 8:42.

Holding two steaming cups, Nick makes his way over to Charlie with a beaming smile. “One earl grey tea for you,” he says while handing Charlie his beverage. 

“Thanks.” Charlie takes a sip and hums in content. “What did you get?”

“Only the best drink EVER, hot chocolate!”

Almost choking on his tea, Charlie snickers and teases Nick for his drink of choice, “Hot chocolate? What are you, ten?”

“Oi!” he exclaims, faking offense, “I’ll have you know, hot chocolate has no age limit. There’s nothing wrong with being a twenty-nine year old man who likes a chocolatey beverage! You should try it!” Nick says, while shoving the cup towards Charlie.

Charlie shakes his head, politely declining, “No, I’m good, thanks. That’s way too much sugar for me.” 

Nick smiles and takes a sip of his aforementioned ‘chocolatey beverage’, “More for me, then!”

Needing to wind down from the busy event they just ditched, the two men focus on their drinks for a few minutes, no one rushing to continue the conversation. This is weirdly calming, Charlie realizes.

Nick finally breaks the silence, for the second time tonight, “So.”

“So…”

“Should we each give our introduction speeches?” Nick chuckles softly, “I didn’t get to properly introduce myself to anyone tonight. My first date was awful , and the second one was with someone I knew from secondary school.”

Charlie doesn’t feel very confident with his interpersonal skills, but it’s worth a shot, right?

“Yeah, okay. Um…” Charlie tries to remember how he introduced himself to Oliver, “I’m Charlie, but you already knew that. I’m twenty-seven, and I work in publishing. Um… I’m gay… I don’t know what else.” He thinks for another thirty seconds, but turns up empty-handed. 

Nick recognizes the turmoil written all over Charlie’s face, and decides to save him from his obvious discomfort. 

“That’s okay, I don’t think I have many facts about myself either.” Nick smiles softly, then continues, “Right. So, I’m Nick. I’m twenty-nine, and I teach Year 4. I sometimes play rugby with a local club, but I was on the rugby team back in uni. I think that covers the basics?”

Charlie’s eyes suddenly go wide, “Oh my god, you’re a rugby lad?! I would be surprised, but you’ve got strong rugby arms, ” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. When did I get so bold?

Nick stays quiet for a few seconds, and Charlie immediately regrets his overly cheeky comment. Was that too much? 

Much to Charlie’s relief, Nick’s face breaks out into a large grin. Luckily, he finds the comment adorable and amusing. 

Nick suddenly remembers the circumstances that led him and the brunette to this small café in the ‘gay area’ of Kent, and his curiosity gets the best of him. “Both of our friends forced us to go speed dating tonight. What was your friend’s reasoning? I’m just curious because my best friend, Imogen, has been obsessed with my love life ever since I gave up on dating apps, and dating in general, three years ago.” Am I oversharing? “You don’t have to answer that if you’re not comfortable.”

Charlie hesitates for a moment, contemplating how detailed he wants his response to be, “No, it’s fine, I’m comfortable sharing!” He pauses. “I guess I also ‘gave up’ on dating about two years ago. My last long-term relationship was okay, but it was nothing special. I tried dating apps for, like, two months, but no one felt ‘right’, ya know?”

Will anyone ever feel “right”?

“Maybe I’m being overly picky, but I just want someone to sweep me off my feet,” Charlie admits, a hint of surprise behind his voice, “which I know sounds ridiculous. Anyways… I had a few first dates and some hook-ups here and there, but I want something real. Something meaningful.” He sighs. “And I can’t help but feel like being in my late-twenties means I’m running out of time.”

Nick stares back at Charlie with a look of understanding. 

Charlie realizes he’s sharing much more with this man, who’s basically a stranger, than he normally would with anyone else he just met. There are no expectations; no pressure to reveal anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a nice change of pace. Refreshing. 

“So, yeah. That’s my story, I guess. What about you?”

“Well, actually, I think I’m in a similar situation as you. I tried dating apps for a bit after my last relationship ended, but it was definitely not for me.” Nick recalls his brief stint with Tinder and the like.

Even though Charlie has been nothing but lovely, Nick braces himself for the disappointment he’s experienced countless times. “Because, um…” Please don’t react poorly, he pleads to a deity he doesn’t believe in. 

“So, um, I’m biromantic demisexual. In general, people are confused at best, and downright antagonistic at worst. So you can imagine how it went with dating apps, where most people just want sex, or sex is super important to them in a relationship. Which is fine! I’m sure most people mean well. But that’s just not what I want. And the people that did understand just didn’t feel special. So I gave up pretty quickly.” He glances down at his lap, waiting for Charlie’s response. 

Charlie chooses his wording carefully, wanting to sound as empathetic as possible, “I’m sorry people treated you poorly because you’re aspec, that really sucks. You and your identity deserve respect, even if people don’t ‘understand’ it.” He can’t imagine the bigotry Nick must have experienced over the years. “But yeah, dating apps were definitely way too stressful for so little reward. When I stopped using them, I decided to focus on myself instead. Ya know, just focus on my hobbies and spending time with friends.”

Nick lights up at the mention of hobbies. “Oh! What hobbies?” he asks eagerly.

“Nothing too exciting. Mostly just playing the drums, listening to music, playing some video games… that kind of thing.” Charlie shrugs, humble as ever.

“YOU PLAY THE DRUMS?! THAT’S SO COOL!!”

Blushing at the sudden compliment, Charlie chuckles, “Thanks! I’ve been playing since I was 9, but it really helped me while I was at Oxford and classes got too overwhelming. It’s great for expressing my emotions.”

Hold on. Nick wonders if he heard Charlie correctly. Oxford? He went to Oxford? Holy shit . 

“...You went to Oxford? Like, the Oxford?” 

“...Yes?” 

“Oh my god… How are you so smart and cool? I feel so boring in comparison.” Nick can’t help but feel slightly inadequate in Charlie’s presence. 

Charlie scrunches his nose in disagreement, “Oh c’mon! What are your hobbies, then? I’m absolutely certain you’re not boring. You’re a rugby lad, remember? Athletic people are always exciting.”

Nick quickly scans his brain, conjuring up hobbies and anything else potentially interesting about himself. 

“Alright, fine. Um…. let’s see. I like baking, hanging out with my dog Nellie… there’s the local club I go to, where I play football or rugby with some of my mates from uni. Um-”

“YOU HAVE A DOG AND YOU HAVEN’T SHOWN ME A PICTURE?! I’m honestly so offended!” Charlie interrupts, only half-teasing.

Nick lets out an airy laugh, “My deepest apologies. Here.” Quickly unlocking his phone, he locates the photo album labeled ‘Nellie 🐶❤️’. He scrolls through the pictures with fondness in his eyes, “She’s getting pretty old, but she’s still going strong. She lives with my mum, but I visit almost everyday. She’s my best friend, for sure.” He hands his phone over to Charlie, so he can get a closer look.

Charlie squeals with pure joy, “Oh my GOD, she is SO cute!! She’s perfect!”

While Charlie is freaking out over the cutest dog in existence, Nick’s heart swells in admiration. “You can come and meet her sometime if you want! I’m sure she’d love you, you’re great company.” 

Nick may as well have said Charlie won the lottery. “Really? I would love that!”

“Yes, of course!” 

“I guess I have a reason to stick around now,” Charlie teases, feeling more comfortable as the minutes go by. His anxiety has almost completely faded away.

Nick giggles, and Charlie decides that’s his new favorite sound.

“Using me just to get to my dog? I see how it is!” 

“Obviously.”

The two men talk about everything and nothing. They discuss their jobs, families, friends, and everything else in between. Nick talks about his experience as a teacher, and Charlie describes the manuscript editing process. Nick tells Charlie about his dickhead biphobic brother, David, and Charlie describes his loving relationship with his two siblings, Tori and Oliver. They ask each other which animals they would be; Nick would be a dog and Charlie, a cat.

Nick quickly glances at his phone to check the time, but does a double-take when he realizes they’ve been talking for almost three hours. 

“Oh, wow! I didn’t realize how late it was.” Nick pockets his phone and gathers the rubbish to throw in the bin. “I should probably get going, Nellie is staying with me this weekend while my mum is traveling with some friends. I better get back to her before she gets worried.” He stands up from the comfy chair he’s been occupying all night, offering Charlie a hand.

Looking only slightly disappointed, Charlie agrees and takes Nick’s hand, “Oh, yeah, of course. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

He pauses for a moment, contemplating how to show Nick his gratitude for the wonderful evening. “Thank you, by the way. For bringing me here. I really enjoyed it and it was definitely better than speed dating.”

Nick wholeheartedly agrees. “Yeah, this was really fun! Maybe we could hang out again sometime? It doesn’t have to be a date, I just like spending time with you.” His lips form into a radiant smile, for what must be the 100th time tonight. This has to be a new record.  

“Yeah, that’d be really nice.” Charlie extends his hand towards Nick. “Here, I can put my number in your phone.” He wiggles his fingers in anticipation. 

Nick creates a new contact, and hands his phone over. Charlie swiftly types out his information, sends himself a text, then returns the phone. “Done!” 

Nick smiles to himself as he reads Charlie’s contact name and the message he sent to himself. 

(23:38) Charlie 🐱: hi charlie, it’s yourself :)

The two men exit the café and walk along the footpath until they must ultimately split ways; it’s time to say goodbye.

Nick feels a twinge of sadness, not wanting the night with such a lovely man to end. He sighs, “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then, yeah? It was really nice meeting you, Charlie.”

For the last time tonight, piercing blue eyes meet warm brown, “You too, Nick.”

They hold their gaze for an abnormally long amount of time. It could’ve been five seconds or five minutes, who’s to say. So many emotions hidden behind kind eyes and soft smiles – happiness, gratitude, assurance – bubbling up to the surface, threatening to spill over. 

Nick clears his throat and lifts his arm with a small wave, “Alright, bye!”

“Bye!” Charlie waves back and walks to his left, in the opposite direction of Nick.

Walking home in complete silence and playing the events of the night on loop in their heads, Nick and Charlie feel more content than they’ve been in years, maybe ever. 

Even though they only met a few hours ago, it feels like they’ve known each other for years; decades. Like the universe is finally settling into place – where it was always meant to be.