Work Text:
“despite appearance, mountains do not displace themselves when one moves in relation to them and that the various perspectives on them do not exclude the permanence of their form”
- Jean Piaget, 1954
Charlie [18:42]: when i get there there’s something i want to talk to you about x
Nick [18:43]: We can talk about anything ❤
Charlie [18:46]: ❤❤❤❤❤❤
[19:07] I’m out front by M&S :)
Nick sends the text so Charlie knows where to find him and shoves his phone back into his pocket. His train would be arriving soon and then Nick would be able to hug him properly and he does his best to focus on that and not think about the message Charlie had sent him half an hour ago.
Except then he feels his phone vibrate and he pulls it out almost embarrassingly quickly to see that Charlie had reacted with a heart. He still hasn’t actually sent anything else since his last message. It had arrived just as Nick was leaving his flat for the walk to the train station. It’s a nice evening, for April in Leeds at least, and the sun had only just started to set, and now a weird knot has settled in his stomach. He has no clue what Charlie could want to talk about, but it must be something serious.
Something serious that Charlie hadn’t told him last weekend. He’d gone home for Charlie’s birthday, his 18th, and everything had been great, at least Nick thought so. Elle and Tara and Darcy had all come back for it as well and they’d celebrated at Charlie’s and Nick had slept over, squeezed together happily on Charlie’s single bed. And Tori’s present to Charlie, among other things, had included a train ticket up to Leeds which Charlie had insisted he use as soon as possible.
Which was now.
Nick scrolls down on their chat, refreshing the screen, but nothing new appears. The last message Charlie had sent, before the weird one, was one announcing he’d made the train, despite having to rush directly from school, and that he planned on doing homework the whole way up so that he wouldn’t have to do any when he got to Leeds. Which was a very Charlie thing to do, Nick would have probably left it for the train-ride home, even though he was getting slightly better at not procrastinating all of his uni work, maybe because Charlie wasn’t there to distract him as much. Even though Nick always wishes he was.
He sighs then, puts his phone back into his pocket and looks up to see a wave of people starting to come out of the station doors. He cranes his neck, stands on his toes to try and spot him and then finally, finally, he sees his black curls pop up behind a woman with a comically large sun hat and he forgets everything else as he barrels through the crowd and crashes himself into Charlie.
“Hi,” he mumbles into the crook of Charlie’s neck, face pressed against his skin and takes a deep breath. Charlie always smells like Charlie , even though he usually laughs when Nick says that and blames it on his shampoo. But Nick knows it’s more than that because he may have purchased some of Charlie’s shampoo a couple of months ago and it just wasn’t the same. No, it’s some magical combination of shampoo and deodorant and sweat and leaves and home.
Charlie’s breath ghosts against Nick’s skin and then pulls away just enough to kiss him. It’s a short kiss, mostly because they are literally blocking people who are trying to leave the station, but Nick still frowns as he forces himself to step away properly.
“Hi,” Charlie says, a dazed smile on his face. Clearly Nick wasn’t the only one who had wanted the kiss to continue.
He’s still wearing his uniform, even though he’d swapped his school jumper for a hoodie, one of Nick’s old ones. But Nick would recognise those black pants anywhere, and he can see a sliver of white shirt peeking out from the bottom of the hoodie. He really had come straight from school.
“You’re here,” Nick grins, leaning back in until his face is barely an inch away from Charlie’s.
“Mm-hmm,” Charlie nods, “And I’m hungry. I didn’t eat on the train.”
Nick feels his smile widen and he nods decisively. “Let’s go get you some food then,” he says, picking up the duffel bag that had dropped to the ground when he’d rushed Charlie and pulling it onto his shoulder with one hand while taking Charlie’s with the other.
Maybe it was his excitement of seeing Charlie in the flesh, or the weight of his hand as he held it tightly all the way to the restaurant, a new little Indian spot he’d only just recently discovered with his flatmates, or the way Charlie’s foot rested against his shin under the table throughout dinner. Or maybe it was Charlie laughing as Nick fanned his mouth after having a bite of his rogan josh or him nodding carefully as Nick described the frustrating essay he’d struggled with last week. Or it was Charlie reenacting Mr. Lange getting mad at the class in third period, doing the voice as well. And it was definitely Charlie putting his arm around Nick’s hip as they walked back to his flat, seemingly sweet until Nick felt ice-cold fingers creep under his jumper.
But whatever the reason, Nick completely forgets about Charlie’s text.
Except that something about walking into his room, dropping Charlie’s duffel on the floor and closing the door behind them brings it all back. And judging by the way Charlie carefully removes his backpack from his shoulders, it's just hit him as well. The butterflies in Nick’s stomach come back vengefully, and his mind spins as he wonders what Charlie could possibly want to tell him, what Charlie needed to psych himself up for. He watches him kick off his converse and sit down slowly on the edge of the bed, and wonders if maybe he’s having trouble eating again. Although that seems unlikely, seeing as how they're better at talking about food, and also how he'd just downed most of his curry. He wonders whether he’s hurting himself again. Wonders if something bad happened this week since he last saw him that he hadn’t wanted to tell Nick about over the phone. Wonders if Charlie wants to break up. His mind is still spinning as he crosses the small room and sits down next to Charlie, close enough that their thighs are touching through their trousers, his blue jeans against Charlie’s uniform slacks. He watches Charlie take several deep breaths, open his mouth twice like he’s about to speak and when he almost can’t take the suspense any more he grabs his hand, and squeezes it gently.
Just tell me, he urges silently. And looks away, hopes that maybe that will help.
“I think I - I don’t want to go to Leeds. Next year.” Charlie says then, quietly but firmly and of all the things that had run through Nick’s mind, this had not been one of them. He slowly turns his head back to look at Charlie, who meets his gaze now, finally. His eyes are wide and apologetic and he starts speaking again. “It’s not because of you! Or us! Please believe me, Nick. I love you so much. More than anything. And, you know, if you really wanted me to come here then I would. It’s fine. It’s not like I hate the idea -”
“Charlie,” he says, squeezing his hand again to get him to stop.
“I feel so bad,” Charlie adds, breathing heavily.
“What? Why? ”
“Because,” he grimaces, “I made such a big deal about you leaving for uni! And it’s not like this year has been easy for us. And now I have the chance to be with you, properly, and I’m not taking it and train tickets are expensive and I’m…” Charlie pulls his hand out of Nick’s to wave them both about in the air and Nick somehow knows exactly what he means.
When Charlie drops his hand again, Nick takes it instinctively and pulls it towards him so that Charlie’s shoulder rests against his.
“Can you say something?” Charlie asks quietly. “Are you mad?”
Nick’s got a million thoughts in his head. He thinks about what Charlie just called a ‘big deal’ which were maybe the worst two weeks of his entire life. He thinks about the last year of long-distance and how shit it’s been and he thinks about hugging Charlie at the train station. He thinks about when he picked that fight with Charlie over the phone because he was stressed about an exam and how Charlie always sends him photos of Nellie and Henry when he pops round to his mum's. And about falling asleep with Charlie on FaceTime, and telling his new mates about him and setting his lock screen as whatever silly selfie Charlie had sent him that week.
“Can I be honest?”
“Always.”
Nick swallows. “I’m kind of relieved.”
He can feel, or maybe sense Charlie turning his head to look at him, and he knows he needs to explain himself, grasping desperately for the right words.
“I know people already think we’re weird but I want to be with you for the rest of my life. You know that right? I love you. You’re like… my whole world. And if you moved here then… well it would be amazing. It would be perfect, really. But then my whole world would be here in this little room in Leeds. And I - I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything. It hasn’t been that long but the silence stretches out and fills the room.
“Does that make sense?” Nick asks eventually. He looks at Charlie now, who is looking down at their clasped hands.
“Yeah, yeah it does,” Charlies nods slowly, and then lifts his head to meet Nick’s gaze “I think I feel the same.”
“I don’t want you to come to Leeds for me .”
“Just like I didn’t want you to stay in Kent for me.”
Nick smiles at that, lets go of Charlie’s hand to grip at his hips and pull him onto his lap. Charlie makes a noise, but doesn’t resist at all, winds his arms up behind Nick’s neck to hold him close.
“So,” Nick says, “UCL then?”
Charlie stares at him, mouth gaping a bit. “How did you know?”
He seems so shocked that Nick’s a bit offended actually. “Because I know you. What did you say when we went to London over Easter? London just calls to me ?”
“Shut up,” Charlie groans and buries his head into Nick’s shoulder.
“I can’t wait to visit my boyfriend in London. ”
“Shut up ,” Charlie says again, this time pushing at him with his body until Nick falls backwards onto his back, Charlie landing gently on top of him and kissing him softly before lifting his head back to gaze at him.
Nick can feel the knot in his chest relax a bit more, 90% unravelled now, but knowing he needs to say one more thing. “Can I ask you something?” He says, his eyes flicking down to Charlie’s lips like he can’t help it, and he watches as they smile.
“Yeah.”
Nick drags his gaze up to meet Charlie’s. “Can you please not send me a text like that ever again?”
Charlie’s brow furrows for a moment, and then slowly relaxes as he realises what Nick means. “Oh! Sorry,” He starts, rolling off Nick to lie on the bed next to him, one hand still resting on Nick’s chest. “I think I sent it because I was scared I would chicken out and not tell you.”
“I’m glad you did,” Nick nods, feels the knot unravel further and turns his head to smile at him. It feels like the tension has been lifted from the room, from his shoulders, and all he wants now is to just spend the weekend with Charlie. “So what do you want to do tonight? Do you want to go out?”
Charlie hums thoughtfully, the hand on Nick’s chest travelling a bit lower down Nick’s torso. “Mmm, I’m not sure yet.”
They end up staying in. They have sex, then Nick goes out to get them some water and they watch half a film before they end up making out instead, and then having sex again. Charlie falls asleep before him, which is rare but he’d had a full day at school and a 4 hour train journey. He’d slipped off Nick’s chest a bit, but his arm was still up, hand hooked up behind Nick’s neck. He's forgotten to close the curtains fully, and he’s not about to move now , so a sliver of moonlight shines through the gap and lands on Charlie’s shoulder, illuminating a spot of skin that’s still kind of pale from months in woolly jumpers but that Nick knows will turn golden in the coming summer months. There’s a moment, before he falls asleep himself, where he wants to shake Charlie awake and tell him he was wrong. That Charlie should come to Leeds, that he wants this, exactly this, every single day.
They’ve got time is the thing, Nick can feel it in his bones. Some might call him naive or optimistic, but he knows. He wants Charlie to get his London experience, he wants to see who he becomes outside of Truham, and outside of Kent. so just he gazes at Charlie snoring peacefully next to him, in the dim glow of the moon, and lets him sleep.
“Why do you have my shampoo in your shower?” Charlie asks, stepping into the kitchen. Nick’s eating a piece of toast and he chokes on it slightly as he turns around. Charlie is dressed in Nick’s boxers and Nick’s hoodie and as he steps closer Nick realises he smells like Nick’s body wash.
He feels himself flush, and holds out the other half of his toast to Charlie, more to distract himself than anything else. Neither George nor Neel are home right now, but Nick doesn’t know what they’re even doing today or when they could come barrelling through the front door which has a straight line of sight to the kitchen. Where he is currently very turned on.
Charlie looks at the toast with a questioning gaze and Nick nods, says “I can make more,” before Charlie takes it from his hand.
“Do you want tea? Or coffee, George has instant and he doesn’t mind if we use it,” he rambles on. He’s never actually used his flatmate’s coffee, but George has offered, so he figures it would extend to Charlie as well.
“M’okay,” Charlie shakes his head as he swallows some toast and smiles at him.
“Nick,” he says slowly, steps forward again, until his arms are around Nick’s waist and he’s pressing their bodies together but then he stops, leans back to look him in the eye. “You never answered my question.”
The thing is, Charlie is the kindest, warmest, most caring person he’s ever met, but he has one single cruel streak and that is that he loves to make Nick blush.
“I -” Nick starts, then huffs as he realises Charlie’s smile is growing wider the more he hesitates. Charlie’s hand winds up the back of his neck and his fingers run into his hair, which is getting a bit long now anyway and Nick sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “I just missed you.”
They had made plans to go out, they really had. But then they go back into Nick’s room, after he finishes his tea and makes them some more toast, and Charlie makes a show of pulling off Nick’s hoodie and searching around for his own shirt and there’s really only so long he can watch him stand there in nothing but Nick’s own boxers before he literally needs to kiss him. And then the kissing turns into making out on Nick’s bed, with Charlie on top on him, legs straddling Nick’s hips and Nick feeling like his lips and lungs are burning but also like he would literally rather walk into fire than stop and -
And there’s a knock on the door. Three loud raps that pull Nick out of his haze.
“Nick, mate,” a voice calls “You guys wanna join us for a pint? No pressure. We’re heading off in a bit, but I’m sure we’ll be there a while.”
Nick should have questions such as where and who “we” included but he just clears his throat quietly and calls back.
“Uh… not right now. Text where you’re at though, we might meet you later.”
He gets two loud knocks in response.
“I thought you said George always forgets to knock,” Charlie says after a moment. He’s propped himself up on his elbow next to Nick’s arm but his hips are still rested against Nick’s in a way that makes it hard to think.
Nick groans, feels himself heat up. Why can’t he stop blushing in front of his own boyfriend? “He walked in on me having a wank last week.”
He’s not looking at Charlie when he says it, but he can hear the sharp inhale and then “ Oh My God ,” Charlie’s voice is bright with glee.
He takes it all back. Charlie isn’t kind, he’s a menace.
“Stop laughing,” he says, despite his own face, and shoves at him gently, not enough to actually move him. “It was so embarrassing.”
“Can we go back to the part where you were having a wank? Were you watching porn?”
“No! I was just… I was thinking about you,” he admits.
“Oh,” Charlie’s eyes widen like he isn’t expecting that but then he smiles again, “What about me?”
“I was thinking about the last time you sucked me off. When you pushed me up against the wall and got on your knees.”
Nick watches Charlie bite at his lip, looking entirely all too pleased with himself.
“Mm hmm, I remember” He nods slowly, “You liked that, did you?”
“Don’t be cheeky, you know I did.”
Charlie grins, and kisses Nick thoroughly but all too briefly before pushing himself up and climbing off the bed. “Come on then, get up,” Nick whines loudly as he moves away, but Charlie pulls at his arm until they’re both standing and moving across the room and Charlie’s still looking endlessly pleased with himself and only then does Nick realise what he’s doing and his brain promptly stops working.
“Are you serious? You don’t - I wasn’t - ”
“Hey,” Charlie smirks at him, and wraps a hand around the back of Nick’s neck and pulls him down so he can bring his lips to his ear, his voice low, “I wanna make sure you have some more memories, just in case.”
They decide to have a late lunch in the park close to Nick’s place, stopping at Tesco to get two meal deals and an extra Oreo bar to share and Charlie makes a big show of generously paying with his extra spending money and then they park themselves on a bench, bodies huddled together even though it’s not that cold.
“So what did your parents say? About UCL?” Nick asks, between bites of his wrap. He’d meant to ask last night, but had gotten distracted and then later wasn’t really in the mood to talk about Charlie’s parents for obvious reasons.
Charlie stabs at his pasta with his small plastic fork, “They don’t know yet. I think they assume I'm going to Leeds. Most people probably do.”
He sounds a bit annoyed by it, and Nick thinks he’s been fielding lots of questions about it recently, not just from his parents but from teachers, and people at school. He’d had the same, and there’s something about being in your last few months of college that makes everyone and their mum suddenly feel entitled to know what your plan is.
“Not the first time people have made the wrong assumptions though,” Nick says and meets Charlie’s gaze with a grin.
“And I wanted to talk to you first. About it.” Charlie adds then his face growing serious again. Nick knows there’s probably more to talk about, that it won’t be as easy as he wishes it was. He puts the wraps down carefully onto the plastic packaging sitting on his lap and reaches out to grab at Charlie’s hand until he lets go of his fork and intertwines their fingers together.
“I'm really glad you told me what you wanted. Even if it was hard. All I want is for you to be happy, Char,” He says, hoping he sounds as genuine as he feels. He leans over and presses a kiss to Charlie’s hair, and smiles when he pulls away. “And anyway, I’m kind of excited about moving in with you properly one day. Not some gross student flat we have to share with three other people.”
Charlie turns to him, “Oh you've thought about this then?”
“Yes! Obviously! I’ve picked out the wall colours and everything.”
“Go on then! Tell me!”
“Okay,” Nick laughs, feeling a bit pleased Charlie doesn’t think it’s silly, “Well, I’m trying to be realistic right, so obviously it’s not going to be anything fancy. Like, I feel like the kitchen will probably be quite small. But that’s fine for us… But we’ll need to have space for a big sofa. And I saw these photos online of like feature walls? So I thought we could paint one wall yellow. It doesn’t have to be super bright, and it could be in our bedroom, or in the lounge or whatever but - what ?” He realises belatedly that Charlie is staring at him.
His face breaks out into a grin, and he grabs at Nick’s hoodie to pull him closer until their lips meet. “That sounds perfect.”
They don’t make it to the pub with Nick’s mates but he tells them he and Charlie are going to wander through Kirkgate before it closes, since Charlie’s not been yet, and some of them say they’ll tag along so they meet up by the flower stall at the entrance. Most of them have met Charlie before, either when Charlie visited last, or over facetime and he’s pleased to see George and Neel both give him a hug, glad to see his worlds colliding even if they won’t totally merge. Charlie and George whisper something to each other and Charlie laughs, cheeks turning red and Nick feels himself flush, knowing what they’re probably talking about.
The markets are only open for another hour, and some stalls have already shut but it’s still plenty busy and Charlie grabs his hand as they walk, even while he’s making polite conversation with Neel’s friend Alex from their course, and Nick isn’t entirely sure there’s not something more between them but he doesn’t want to pry. There’s a second hand record store that Charlie gets enamoured with and Nick makes a note to come back next time he wants to get a gift for him, and maybe Tori can help him figure out what record he’d want.
They end up in a bar a few hours later sharing a pizza. Charlie eats two and a half slices in a way that usually means he has something on his mind. But he’s laughing and chatting to everyone and resting his hand on Nick’s thigh under the table.
Claire and George are going out with her friends after and she invites the rest of them but Neel and Alex already have plans and Nick and Charlie look at each other and politely decline the offer and Nick blushes when George winks at him knowingly.
“Did you want to go out with them?” Charlie asks on the walk home. “We can, y’know.”
They can. Last time Charlie was here he was still 17 so they had stayed away from anywhere where he’d get IDed. He doesn’t mind the idea though, of going out with Charlie properly, dancing with him on the dance floor and buying each other drinks and going home together. But it’s early still, so going out means pre-drinking at Claire’s friend’s flat for a few hours and Nick has no real desire to be drunk or be with other people right now.
He shakes his head with a smile, lifts an arm to wrap it around Charlie’s shoulders and pulls his body into his.
“So, Neel and Alex,” He asks instead, “That’s a thing right?”
“Oh definitely a thing,” Charlie nods emphatically.
“D’you want a drink?” Nick asks when they get back to his place.
“Not beer though,” Charlie wrinkles his nose a bit.
“We’ve got these like cocktail things I think, from a few weeks ago. Claire and Neel wanted to try them,” He muses, opening the fridge door and peering inside. “There's um, watermelon mint and something called sangria spritz it looks like.”
Charlie steps behind him, close enough that he’s leaning on Nick as he peers over his shoulder. “I’ll try the watermelon one.”
Nick grabs a pink can and a bottle of Stella for himself before closing the fridge door. They head back to his room, even though they’ve got the whole place to themselves and Charlie wastes no time setting his drink on Nick’s bedside table, pulling off his jeans and kicking them away and climbing under Nick’s covers. Nick watches him fondly, before quickly following suit.
“Scooch up,” he says, pushing at Charlie’s shoulder until he can sit up against the wall, pillow behind his back, legs bracketing Charlie’s hips and he pulls Charlie back to rest against his chest.
“Are you gonna show me that video then, or what?” He says, rests his chin down on Charlie’s shoulder. It’s a little low, but if he turns his face just so he can tuck his nose into Charlie’s neck which is absolutely one of his top three spots in the world.
There’s some video Charlie had talked to Neel about, so much so that they kept referencing it hours later and he’d promised to show Nick. Charlie hums, and reaches over to grab his phone from further down the bed, and then reaches back to grab his watermelon drink, taking a sip.
“Ugh,” he grimaces, and then takes another gulp before returning the can to the table and tapping at his screen. “Okay, are you ready? You have to pay attention.”
They end up just scrolling Charlie’s Tiktok for a while. Well, Charlie’s scrolling, Nick’s got one hand wrapped around his stomach and the other holding the Stella he’s nursing slowly and is now a bit warm. He doesn’t use Tiktok that much, mostly opens it to see whatever videos Charlie or Sai or Darcy have sent him, but he notes that the stuff Charlie gets is quite different to his, more videos about music and jokes about being mentally ill that Charlie seems to get a chuckle out of, weirdly, several videos about what teachers wear to work and less weirdly lots of videos of Harry Styles' concerts.
He thinks Charlie’s going to continue scrolling, but his thumb hovers over the screen, pausing a video of a cat dressed up as The Doctor, and instead he drops the phone onto the covers and turns himself between Nick’s legs until they’re facing each other properly.
“When you first told me you wanted to go to Leeds, I was so scared.”
Charlie says it quickly and quietly and while it’s not something they’ve never talked about, Nick definitely wasn’t expecting that to be what came out of his mouth. Last summer, when they were back to normal more or less, back to being them , they had talked about it a lot, Charlie’s feelings about Nick leaving, Nick’s feelings about Nick leaving.
“I was scared too,” he responds simply. Choosing Leeds wasn’t ever an easy choice to make, and despite how much he truly does love it here, he probably never would have made it at all if he’d known then how much pain it would cause him and Charlie.
Charlie takes a breath, exhales slowly. “I was… I was so sure that if we weren’t together you would, like, forget that I exist?”
“You doubted my object permanence? Nick asks, raising an eyebrow, and then, when Charlie looks at him half confused and half surprised, he just taps at his temple, ”Education 12-0-7, Childhood development.” It had actually been one of his favourite classes last semester, and he’d done quite well.
“You’re a dork,” Charlie punches at his shoulder gently, “I’m trying to be serious.”
“Okay, okay,” he nods, reaching out to place his near empty bottle back next to Charlie’s can. He feels like it will help somehow to have both hands free.
Charlie pauses for a moment then purses his lips thoughtfully, and speaks again. “I think I was actually more worried that you would… want to forget about me? That you’d realise the whole world was open to you now and I wouldn’t be… enough. I guess.”
Nick’s stomach drops, and he frowns, “Char -”
“Let me just -” Charlie stops him, a hand to his chest. “I don't think that now, I promise.” He waits until Nick smiles at him, just barely, and continues, “And the distance has sucked. A lot. But also I’ve watched you become this whole wonderful independent person, and make new friends and learn new things and somehow I’m even more in love with you than ever.”
“Char,” He says, and it comes out a whine almost because it takes all that he has not to just pull Charlie into him and kiss him senseless.
“And maybe it’s selfish but I kind of want that too. For me. If I stay in Kent, I’ll be who I always was, and if I come here, well everyone already knows me as Nick’s boyfriend and I don’t want that to be all I am. I want to be my own person.”
There’s a beat and when Nick’s sure Charlie’s done he lifts a hand to rest on his cheek. “Can I talk now?”
“I suppose,” Charlie mumbles.
“I love who you’ve always been, and I’m going to love whoever you become. And I really, really love Nick’s boyfriend.”
Charlie rolls his eyes at that, a smile on his face despite it and he reaches up to squeeze Nick’s cheeks between his hands. “Such a dork.”
“Oi, look at me,” Nick says, and waits until Charlie meets his gaze properly, his hands still on Nick’s face but gentler now, thumbs tracing against his jaw. “You’re my favourite person. In the entire universe. And no matter who you become, or what you do, or how far away we are, or for how long, you’re always going to be my favourite person.”
“Nick… ” Charlie whines himself, his eyes closing a little and Nick moves his hands under the covers and under Charlie’s T-shirt, to sit on his waist.
“I’m scared of the same thing you know,” he says slowly, blinking a couple times before he looks back at Charlie. “That you’ll start to do all this amazing stuff and realise I’m holding you back.”
Charlie stares at him, eyes a little teary. “What?”
Nick trails his hand up Charlie’s back a bit, fingers pressing gently against his soft skin. “You’re incredible, Charlie. You’re only going to become even more incredible. And outside of our shitty town there are going to be so many cool, interesting people that see that.”
Charlie leans forward, hands gripping at Nick’s face, lips landing on his a little desperately, kisses him deeply before pulling away just an inch.
“I’m only ever going to care that you think that.”
When they wake up on Sunday morning, it’s bucketing down. Nick’s frowns as he realises the loud noise is rain pelting the windows, and buries his face into Charlie’s neck. They’d planned to go up Cabbage Hill, so Charlie could see the view there. He’s already awake, reading something on his phone and he huffs gently as Nick breathes hot air onto his skin and Nick’s not actually too upset about their plans changing. The hill will still be there the next time Charlie comes up. So Nick lets himself stay half-dozing, re-positions himself until his head is on Charlie’s chest and he feels Charlie’s hand come up and play with his hair, fingers massaging his scalp until he’s pretty sure could fall asleep again. After a bit Charlie's stomach rumbles, enough that Nick can both hear it and feel it.
“Sorry,” Charlie says, not making any effort to move.
“Oi,” Nick lifts a hand and pokes him in the belly, “I think you might be hungry.”
They make two bowls of cereal, Charlie’s with less milk because he doesn’t like it soggy, and sit on opposite ends of the sofa in the lounge with their legs entangled in the middle as Claire comes out of George’s room to make some coffee and eggs. Apparently Claire’s brother also plays the drums and so she asks him some questions about it and Charlie’s smiling as he’s talking and Nick rests his bowl on his knee precariously so he can reach out and wrap a hand around Charlie’s ankle, thumb brushing gently against the bony joint. Charlie shifts his gaze to Nick for a moment, smiles at him and doesn’t say anything, just takes another spoonful of cereal in his mouth and looks back over at Claire.
They go back to Nick’s room eventually, and Nick presses Charlie into the sheets and blows him until Charlie’s gripping tightly at his hair and coming in his mouth with a gasp.
“More memories for your wank bank?” Charlie laughs, still a bit breathless as Nick shuffles back up the bed to lay down next to him, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
He groans, drops his head face first into his pillow. “You’re mean,” he says, then rolls over onto his back. Charlie just hums playfully, climbs half across him to open up the top drawer of Nick’s bedside table and pulls out his bottle of lube. Nick’s hands land blindly on Charlie’s hips, hauling him over so that he’s on top of him properly, a knee slotting in between Nick’s thighs, pressing against him.
Charlie pauses and Nick smiles up at him, expects him to make another joke, but then Charlie moves the hand not holding the lube up to Nick’s cheek and cups it gently.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, “I should tell you that more often.”
Nick feels his face flush, cranes his neck up and kisses him, keeps kissing him.
Afterwards, Charlie goes for a shower and Nick lays in bed, still naked, looking across at the pinboard above his desk. He’d bought it to be more organised, but it’s become a bit of a Charlie shrine, which is nice except that it always distracts him from his actual coursework now. There are some proper old pictures there, Nick’s half of the photo booth printout from their first real date, some of the shots from Nick’s disposable camera from last year carefully divvied up between Charlie and him, even one of Charlie as a kid from a family trip to Blackpool that Tori had given him as a Christmas present one year, much to Charlie’s chagrin. He thinks of the pictures he took this weekend, one of Charlie in the park laughing down at his pasta salad, another of him and Charlie standing in front of a fish stall at the markets pulling a face because of the smell.
Charlie comes back, fresh-faced and dressed in his jeans and Nick’s jumper, notably not the one he had arrived in. Nick pulls on some trackpants and they watch some TV, old episodes of Taskmaster, and then he runs across the road to get some kebabs for tea even though it’s not even four pm. But Nick doesn’t want Charlie to get hungry on the train home and he’s still not really a snack person, so an early supper it is.
“You can stay here you know, if you don’t want to get wet,” Charlie says, zipping up his duffel bag slowly.
Nick frowns down at his shoes as he ties his laces. “Don’t be daft, of course I’m coming,” he says. As if some rain would stop him from spending a little bit of extra time with Charlie. Even if it is just the walk to the train station.
They walk huddled under one umbrella that Nick borrowed from Neel because his one broke just last week, even though it means they get more wet. Nick goes into the station, just to get out of the weather and they spend ages, but not long enough, saying goodbye by the wall of lockers.
“Call me when you get home, yeah?” He murmurs, hugging Charlie as tightly as he possibly can. Charlie nods into his shoulder.
One more month until Nick is home, less than two until Charlie is done with exams. Nick’s thinking of messaging Tao about maybe surprising Charlie somehow, for his final day at Truham. And then they have the whole summer together.
He watches as Charlie heads back towards the platforms, and then passes the barrier where Nick can’t follow, and then rounds a corner where Nick can’t see him anymore. And his chest is still warm and his heart is still beating.
He waits a moment before he heads back to the exit, opens his umbrella out towards the rain, thinks about maybe working on that research report that’s due in a couple weeks but knows he probably won’t, reminds himself to put his sheets in the wash when he gets home. He’s halfway there, walking faster now that he’s by himself and has nothing to stall for, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. At first he thinks it’s just a text but then it continues and he realises it’s a call - Charlie’s face filling up the screen.
“Hi,” he hears.
“Hi.”