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Chapter Text

Nick tugged the brim of his baseball cap down over his sunglasses and adjusted the mask covering the lower half of his face. On a normal day, the disguise probably wouldn't have fooled anyone. Unfortunately, nothing was really normal anymore.

No one at the dog park was looking at him anyways, too busy enjoying the sunshine and watching their dogs' antics to pay attention to another random, masked stranger.

He glanced surreptitiously around, but didn't see any lurking figures with oversized lenses pointed his way, so maybe the paparazzi had taken the day off. Considering their usual tenacity, he wouldn't have thought even something like a global pandemic would keep them home, but maybe it was too hard to figure out who to tail when almost everyone on the street was wearing a hoodie and a face mask.

Whatever the reason, Nick was more than grateful for any small silver lining he could find in the midst of the shitstorm the world had become.

He glanced at the large, posted notice on the park's gate warning visitors of recommended safe distancing guidelines before he stepped inside, Nellie right on his heels.

It felt like it had been ages since he'd taken her out for a real romp. Sure, he always took her with him on his early morning runs, but trips to the dog park had been few and far between. He'd been shooting on the set of his newest film all through February, and on a brutal talk show circuit through the first half of March. Then everything closed down, and suddenly Nick had nothing but time, and nowhere to take Nellie, even when she gave him her best puppy eyes.

Now that the government had cautiously reopened some public areas, it seemed only fitting that the dog park was at the top of his desired destination list. Nellie had kept him mostly sane through months of the stay at home order, after all. She definitely deserved a reward.

He moved away from the gate and found a nice, shady tree a safe distance away from the other patrons before he held up her favourite toy.

"You ready?" he asked, leaning down to unsnap her leash.

Nellie practically vibrated in anticipation, ears pricked and eyes locked on the red plastic disk as she gave a quick woof of encouragement.

Nick drew his arm back, preparing to throw. Even before he let go, Nellie's muscles tensed, her sleek form bunched, nails digging into the grass for traction. As soon as the Frisbee left his hand, she was off, a brown and white blur flying after the disk like an arrow loosed from a bow. She leapt up and twisted, catching the Frisbee mid-air, then spun back to land gracefully facing him, tail wagging and a smug "See? I've still got it!" look on her face.

She raced back to Nick, Frisbee clamped proudly between her teeth, and sat down at his feet, tail wagging furiously.

"Nice one," Nick said, ruffling her ears affectionately as he reached for the Frisbee.

"FUCK OFF!"

The angry shout came from Nick's left, followed immediately by a heavy thwack and the sharp, startled yip of a dog in pain.

Nick spun towards the commotion in time to see an enraged man aiming another kick at a shaggy brown dog that was cowering near his feet. The kick thudded against the dog's side, and it yipped again, scrabbling away.

Nick started forward on instinct, not sure exactly what he was planning to do, but sure he couldn't let the animal suffer another blow.

Someone else beat him to it.

"Hey!" the newcomer shouted, stumbling to a stop directly between the angry man and the dog. "What the hell are you doing?"

"This is all just fucking shite," the angry man cursed, jaw clenched and fists balled tight.

Nick hesitated, his well-honed desire to avoid public drama warring with his instinct to intervene. If he managed to get involved in a brawl at a dog park, the gleefully slanderous headlines would be the least of his worries. The bigger concern, of course, was that Tara and Darcy would murder him.

"Listen," Nick heard the newcomer say, "I don't know why you're mad, but taking out your frustration on an animal is not going to solve any of your problems."

The dog-kicker grimaced. Nick could see it clearly because the man didn't have a mask on, despite the posted guidelines. The dog's defender, on the other hand, was wearing a mask, but the furrowed brows under his dark, tousled hair clearly telegraphed his concern.

Nick glanced around. Several people were watching the confrontation, but none were moving to intervene, and the dog-kicker still looked mad enough to throw a punch.

Nick made a snap decision. He glanced down and met Nellie's eyes. "Stay," he said firmly, then jogged towards the two men.

"Is this your dog?" the good samaritan demanded. Nick moved to flank him, making sure the dog-kicker knew he was outnumbered.

"No," the angry man bit out, then shook his head and continued, "Yes. God. This is so fucked up."

"Right," the dog's defender replied, his voice calm and even despite the tension Nick could see in his shoulders. "Clearly there's a lot going on right now, and I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume there's some extenuating circumstances here that might, just possibly, explain the short circuit in your brain."

"She was my wife's dog," The man said, then bit off a curse, and elaborated, "My ex-wife. She...she left two months ago, in the middle of the bloody quarantine, and she left the dog too, and I just– I can't handle having her on top of trying to get through the rest of this crap right now. It's...It's too much. It's just too much. But she won't stop following me."

"You were planning on dumping her here," Nick realised aloud, looking from the man's angry face to the park gate a few steps away.

The man flushed and looked down, all the confirmation Nick needed.

"Hey," the dog's defender said, glancing over his shoulder and catching Nick's eye. Nick felt an instant of panic. Had he been recognized? Were he and Nellie going to have to flee the dog park trailed by a seething horde of rabid fans and their ironically less rabid dogs? Then the guy gestured between himself and the dog-kicker, and asked "Can you record us real quick?"

"Uh, sure?" Nick answered, slightly bemused. He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the camera, and pointed it at the two men, then hit record. It felt almost surreal to be out in public and on the other side of the lens for once. "It's rolling."

The dog's defender nodded, hooked a finger behind his ear and pulled off his mask.

Nick felt his hand clench around his phone and his breath hitch a little in his throat because in addition to being the kind of person who stood up to bullies and saved abused puppies, the guy was also absolutely stunning. Those eyebrows had in no way prepared Nick for the man's whole face. He was all smooth, pale skin and sharp cheekbones topped by an unruly mass of dark curls, and something in Nick's belly swooped giddily as the guy gave the camera a little half-smile and suddenly dimples appeared. That was just unfair.

It was a good thing his phone was already pointed where it was supposed to be, because it took a solid three seconds for Nick's brain to reboot.

"My name is Charlie Spring," the guy–Charlie?–said, looking straight into the camera. "And since this dog was about to be abandoned here," he gestured down at the scruffy looking creature, "I agree to adopt her and care for her. Is this dog yours?"

The dog-kicker honestly looked more confused than angry at this point. "Yes."

"And do you agree to give her to me?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah. You can have her."

"You're not going to change your mind and come around in a few days demanding to get her back?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "I definitely don't want her."

"And to the best of your knowledge, no one else in your family wants her?"

The man swallowed, and shook his head again. "No one else wants her. She's all yours."

"Great," Charlie looked past the camera right at Nick. "That should do it."

Nick hit stop as Charlie hooked his mask back into place.

"Is that her leash?" Charlie asked, gesturing at the material clenched tight in the man's fist.

"Yeah," the guy said, awkwardly handing it over.

"Any medical history I should know about?" Charlie persisted, taking the leash and squatting down to snap it onto the shaggy dog's collar.

"I don't think so. She's three years old. My wi–" he cut himself off and swallowed. "My ex used to take her to the vet for regular shots and check ups, but she's been fine other than that. It's not like she's a problem or anything, I just..." The guy trailed off again.

"Hey, I get it," Charlie said. "You're in a shitty situation. I've got the dog, now. She'll be fine." He scratched her gently behind the ears, then stood up and met the guy's eyes. "Go home and sort yourself out, and the next time something overwhelming happens, ask for help instead of taking it out on a helpless animal, alright?"

"Yeah," the guy replied, looking a bit dazed. "Yeah, I'll do that."

As the man walked away, the dog stood as though to follow, but Charlie crouched down and scratched her shaggy back, murmuring low, soothing words under his breath until the dog sat back down and nudged into his other hand, looking for more pets.

Nick gazed down at him in wonder. "Wow," he said. "I thought there was going to be a fight." He carefully didn't mention that he'd briefly considered starting it. "Nice job diffusing the situation and talking that guy down–"

"That bastard had better be gone, because if he's still here, I am going to punch him in the fucking face," Charlie gritted out through clenched teeth.

Nick blinked. "What?"

"Did you see what he did?" Charlie demanded. "He kicked her. This dog clearly trusted him, and that dickhead planned to fucking abandon her, to, I don't know, throw her away like some inconvenient piece of garbage, and then when she tried to follow him back to the only home she's probably ever known, he kicked her in the fucking ribs," Charlie gulped in a ragged breath, and when he looked up, there were angry tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. "People can be such absolute twats. Some days I just fucking hate humanity."

Nick was reeling a bit from the sudden emotional whiplash, but he nodded in agreement. "Why didn't you just punch him, then?" He asked, curious. "Or call the police?"

"Because punching him wouldn't have solved anything," Charlie answered, fingers combing restlessly through the dog's scruffy fur. "And he wouldn't have stuck around long enough for the police to get here. Either way would've just pissed him off and made him feel even more like the victim he clearly sees himself as. I've met bullies like that before. He wouldn't have let me take the dog. He'd have dragged her back home to spite me, and resented her even more for it." He sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the dog's shaggy back. "At least this way she's safe. And who knows, the guy might even reflect on what happened today and learn something from it. Not that I'm going to hold my breath for that or anything."

Nick watched them for a long moment, the dog with her head tucked over Charlie's shoulder and Charlie with his face buried in her shaggy fur, before Charlie pushed himself upright and coughed to clear his throat. He ran his hands down the dog's sides and sighed. "At least she doesn't seem too sore. I'll take her to a vet to get her checked out, but she's not acting like she's injured. Sorry," he said, darting a look at Nick before turning away and wiping his eye on his shirt sleeve. "You didn't deserve to listen to that rant. You were awesome. It was a good reminder that not all people are jerks. I'm Charlie, by the way."

Nick briefly considered giving him a false name, but quickly dismissed the idea. For some reason, he didn't want Charlie thinking of him as James or Thomas or any of the other aliases he'd used over the years when he wanted to fly under the radar. "Nick," he said, and tensed just a little bit, wondering if that would trigger any recognition.

Charlie smiled. "Well, Nick," he said without the double-take Nick half-feared and half-anticipated, "Thanks." He offered his hand then jerked it back with an awkward laugh. "Man, it's been months and I'm still not used to this social distancing stuff. Anyways, thanks for the backup." Then he blinked and looked around. "Speaking of backup...could you hold her a second?"

At Nick's nod, he handed him the leash, took a few steps away, and called "JARVIS!"

A moment later, a giant, lanky, brown and black dog that looked like it might be some sort of mix between a German Shepherd and Great Dane bounded forward, nearly knocking Charlie off his feet with an enthusiastic greeting. Charlie beamed. Nick could tell, even with the mask obscuring his mouth. His eyes just lit up as he ruffled the massive beast's sleek fur.

"A lot of good you are in a fight, you big lummox," Charlie chided, pulling a leash out of his pocket and snapping it onto the big dog's collar. "Where were you while I was in mortal peril? Flirting with that labradoodle again?"

The dog's tongue lolled out in a happy canine smile, and he butted against Charlie, affectionately, knocking him back half a step. Charlie flailed a little before finding his balance again, glaring in mock indignation.

"Where are your manners?" Charlie groused, and Nick was amused to see that he was still talking directly to his dog. "While you were off trying to impress the ladies, I accidentally acquired a sister for you." Charlie stepped towards Nick, leading his giant dog with him. "Jarvis, meet…" Charlie froze mid gesture, looking down at his new dog. "God, I didn't even get her name from the guy."

The lack of proper introductions didn't stop Jarvis from greeting his new friend. The dogs sniffed at each other enthusiastically, ears pricked, and postures relaxed.

"Well, that went smoothly at least," Charlie said after a minute, taking his new dog's leash back from Nick. "I guess something had to today. I can't believe I don't even know her name, though."

"Maybe she has tags?" Nick suggested.

Charlie felt along the collar tangled in her scruffy brown coat, then shook his head. "No luck. He probably took the tags off if he was planning on dumping her here."

"You should rename her," Nick suggested. "A new name for a new start."

"Yeah." Charlie looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Brownie? No, we are not naming you after a desert. Shaggy? Nah, too Scooby Doo. Hermoine? Rose? Agatha? Waffles? Peanut?"

"Peanut?" Nick repeated incredulously, interrupting the list of increasingly ridiculous suggestions.

"Yeah, ok, not Peanut," Charlie laughed. "She's too big for that. Any suggestions?"

Nick thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "You've already got Jarvis. How about Friday?"

The dog tilted her head and looked at Nick, her ears pricking up.

"Like Iron Man's backup AI?" Charlie asked, then called, "Friday!" The dog turned towards him, her tail giving an enthusiastic wag. Charlie grinned. "That's perfect."

Nick raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Better than Waffles, anyway."

"Hey. I like Waffles. They're tasty."

"Pretty terrible dog name, though."

"Says who? Maybe she'll like it." Charlie looked down at his new dog, and called, "Waffles! Hey girl!"

The dog glanced up at the sound of Charlie's voice, then went back to sniffing Jarvis.

"Friday?" Nick tried, and the dog's head snapped up at once, eyes intent and focused.

"Alright, fine. Friday it is, you little traitor," Charlie accused affectionately, giving the dog a pat. He glanced at Nick. "Do you like Marvel?"

Nick thought back to filming in February, to the streets of New Orleans and the stunt teams and the ridiculous hours of hair and makeup it took to turn him into Gambit, the newest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. "Yeah," he said easily. "I'm a fan."

"Cool. Me too, but you probably guessed that. My roommate hates the whole MCU, though, so I have to stealth watch them."

Nick snorted. "Stealth watch?"

"Yeah, on my laptop, under the covers to avoid detection."

"That's completely ridiculous," Nick said, unable to contain a laugh.

"Ridiculous, but necessary. At least there's no way Tao will recognize Friday's name. When I named Jarvis, I think he nearly had an aneurysm."

"Wouldn't do to add any more trauma when you're already bringing home a surprise dog."

"Oh, he won't mind," Charlie said with certainty. "As long as Friday doesn't interfere with film nights, she'll be a welcome addition to the household. Where's your dog?" Charlie asked, glancing around. "I'm assuming that you have one and aren't just hanging out at the dog park like a creeper."

Nick gave a startled huff of laughter, then turned to see Nellie still sitting next to the Frisbee where he'd left her, watching him intently. "Nellie, come," he called, and she immediately sprinted towards him. Nick tapped his chest, and she leaped into the air as she reached him, landing in his arms.

"Wow, nice!" Charlie said, and he was grinning again. Nick could see it in his eyes.

"She's awesome," Nick agreed, setting her back on the ground and snapping on her leash. "And we had a lot of time to practise tricks over the last few months."

"Oh man," Charlie moaned. "Tell me about it. I miss people so much. I mean, I have a roommate, and he's great and all, but…" He trailed off as Jarvis tugged him forward to greet Nellie. "Sorry," he said with an endearingly high-pitched giggle, "He's clearly not as well trained as your dog. He's friendly, though, I swear."

"They seem fine," Nick agreed, as all three dogs happily exchanged greetings, bounding playfully around and thoroughly tangling their leashes. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a photo of Nellie making friends, then glanced up at Charlie. "What did you want me to do with the video?"

"Oh, crap. I should have given you my phone to record. Sorry. Would you mind sending it to me?"

"No problem," Nick replied, opening a new contact window.

"It probably won't hold up in court or anything, but I can just imagine that guy going back on his word, you know? Better to have some record that I didn't steal her or something, because I am not about to give her back to an abusive arsehole."

In a fit of whimsy, Nick typed "Saint Charlie, Savior of Dogs" into the name section as he listened to Charlie ramble, then entered Charlie's phone number as he dictated it.

"Thanks for everything, Nick," Charlie said. "I should get going. I need to get Friday to the vet to make sure she's okay before I take her home. And then I need to give everyone a bath, because all of us have failed spectacularly at social distancing today."

"Yeah," Nick agreed, helping untangle Nellie from the knot the three leashes had become. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks! See you around," Charlie said, and walked off with a little wave, his dogs trailing behind. He glanced back once, and Nick felt a little flip in the pit of his stomach when their eyes met, then Charlie was out the gate and gone.

Nellie gave a little wuff and sat down on Nick's foot, looking up at him with sad eyes. "Do you miss your new friends already?" Nick asked. He squatted down next to her and scratched her ruff with both hands. After a moment, he shook his head and stood up. "Come on, get it together," he muttered, not sure whether he was talking to Nellie or himself. "We have a whole dog park to play in, and the rest of the day left to play in it."

They both stood up and started towards the abandoned Frisbee.

Chapter Text

Nick glared down at his phone.

He wasn't being creepy, he told himself stubbornly. He was just trying to solve a mystery.

That was all.

Really.

He sighed, hit play, and heard his own voice say, "It's rolling."

On the screen, Charlie pulled off his mask, and Nick felt his stomach swoop all over again.

And there was the problem; the mystery that had driven him to watch this video seven times in a row. What the hell about the guy was making Nick feel so–he clenched his jaw–so strange?

Sure, Charlie was definitely attractive, but that didn't explain why Nick felt unsettled. Nick worked with attractive people all the time. He was a film star, for fuck's sake. Being around attractive people was part of his job description.

So what was it about this guy that was unleashing the proverbial butterflies?

Nick squinted at the screen.

He took in the serious look in Charlie's eyes, the stubborn set of his chin, the firm line of his spine, and the even tone of his voice. He watched again as Charlie stood between the quivering dog and danger, and calmly talked everything into order, even though his later rant had shown exactly how upset he really was.

The swarm of butterflies that had apparently decided to take up residence in Nick's stomach did an impressive series of aerial manoeuvres.

Nick had always had a bit of a competence kink, and he'd figured out he was bi some time in his late teens, though beyond snogging a few lads on drunken pub nights in his Uni years, he'd never really acted on that knowledge. And now here was a guy who was not only calm in the face of a crisis, but also compassionate, hot, and clearly a dog person.

Charlie wasn't playing fair.

"Fuck," Nick cursed, dropping his phone in his lap and leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

As if on cue, Nellie hopped up onto the couch next to him and rested her head on his thigh. He met her eyes and exhaled heavily.

"I'm being ridiculous," he admitted, petting her silky fur.

Whatever this felt like, Nick knew it couldn't be real. He'd talked to Charlie for less than ten minutes. It wasn't like he actually knew the guy. This was probably just a side effect of the quarantine; his brain latching on to any human interaction like a lifeline.

But even as Nick tried to dismiss his feelings, he remembered Charlie's determined stance as he faced down the abuser, his careful hands as he probed Friday's sides for injuries, and his bright eyes as he jokingly scolded Jarvis…and yeah, Nick may not have known Charlie for long, but he already knew that he liked what he'd seen so far.

He sighed, and picked up his phone again. The screen opened to a freeze frame of Charlie glancing down at Friday, and the butterflies in Nick's stomach did a barrel roll.

This was stupid. He had the guy's number. He could just call him...and say what, exactly? "Hi. You saved a dog. I've been staring at the video I took of your face. I don't know why." He grimaced. Yeah, that would go over well.

Anyways, he'd sent the video to Charlie half an hour ago, and hadn't gotten a message in response. It would be weird to call when Charlie hadn't even texted back.

Nick stared down at his phone. Would it be weird? He squinted at the screen. It would be weird, right?

Nick groaned in frustration.

Maybe he'd just watch the video one more time. For science.

He dragged the progress bar back to the start of the clip, but just before he hit play an alert chimed and Nick gave a guilty start, nearly dropping his phone. Somehow, he managed to hold onto it, and saw a message notification from Saint Charlie, Savior of Dogs scrolling across his screen.

Heart beating inexplicably fast, Nick thumbed his message app open.

:got the video, thanks! and thanks again for the back up and letting me vent:

Nick bit his lip and carefully typed back, :Any time.: Then, partly because he was curious and partly because he didn't want the conversation to end, he sent, :How's Friday?:

His phone chimed almost immediately.

:great! vet checked her out. she's all good. thrilled to be home, less thrilled with the bath i made her take:

Before Nick could respond, his phone chimed again, and he was staring at a photo of something that looked more like a soggy llama than the dog he'd seen in the park.

Nick winced in sympathy, then typed out: :I've got to side with her on this one. That's cruel.:

:oh don't worry, she gave as good as she got:

The next photo that popped up showed a sheepish looking Charlie in – dear god – a wet white t-shirt, gracing the bathroom mirror with an embarrassed smile. Nick stared at the photo, eyes darting from the ridiculous cupid's bow of Charlie's lips to the damp curls of hair plastered to his forehead to his adorable dimples, and finally to the nearly translucent fabric stretched over his chest and stomach.

After a solid minute of staring, Nick closed his mouth, shook himself, and realised Charlie was probably waiting for some sort of a response.

:Clearly Friday was the victor in that battle: he typed once he remembered how his thumbs worked.

Three dots popped up on Nick's screen almost instantly, and Charlie's response came in a few seconds after. :the entire bathroom is coated in soap suds and dog hair. it's like a war zone:

Yet another photo loaded, this one showing a thoroughly trashed bathroom strewn with sopping towels, empty shampoo bottles, and soapy puddles large enough to sink a boat in. In the middle of the mess, Jarvis and Friday lounged, looking damp but somehow victorious.

:That's too cute to be a war zone.: Nick shot back, then glanced down and typed out, :Nellie's bummed she missed the fun.: He snapped and sent a photo of Nellie peering up from his lap with sad puppy eyes, clearly wondering why the pets had stopped.

:aww, who could resist that face? she's definitely invited to the next doggy spa day at the spring house. jarvis and friday would love the company and the extra assistance destroying the bathroom:

Nick stared at the words "definitely invited" and felt the traitorous squadron of lepidoptera invading his insides do a drunken sort of loop. "Jesus Christ, Nelson," he muttered to himself in disgust. "He invited the dog, not you. Get over yourself." The happy fluttering in his midsection blithely disobeyed his order.

In an effort to maintain some sort of sanity, he ignored the invitation for now and typed out, :I'm amazed you managed to wrestle Jarvis into the water. Does he even fit in the bathtub?:

:jarvis loves his baths. hes part dolphin, I swear: Charlie replied.

Nick grinned at a photo of the massive dog, liberally lathered with suds and smiling a doofy canine smile, complete with lolling tongue. He typed back, :Judging by his size, I would have guessed blue whale.:

:he's definitely big enough. his mom was a german shepherd and his dad jumped the fence. vet's best guess was part great dane, part greyhound. whatever else he is, he's 100% goofball:

Nick smirked. :I've always heard that dogs take after their owners.:

:ouch: Charlie texted back. :it hurts because it's true. what's nellie like, then?:

Nick considered for a second, then chuckled as he thought of an Americanism he'd picked up on set last year. :Badass.:

:i believe it. saw her acrobatics today. does that mean you're some kind of ninja?:

Nick had played a ninja-like character in a dystopian sci-fi film once. The stunt sequences had been ridiculously fun to film. He glanced over at the shelf where his futuristic prop shuriken was displayed. :Something like that: he agreed.

:i guess it's too bad for friday that you didn't take her home, then. she could have been a badass. instead she's doomed to be a right mess like me:

Nick's lips twitched up in a small, genuine smile. :She's lucky she found you.: he typed, and hit send before he let himself over analyse the giddy warmth bubbling up in his chest.

Chapter Text

The next day, Charlie sent Nick a picture of Jarvis and Friday curled up together in one overflowing dog bed, with the caption :i think it may be love:

Nick responded with a heart eyes emoji, then a photo of Nellie staring intently at her favourite Frisbee. :This committed relationship has been going on for 3 years.:

When Charlie's reply was :#relationshipgoals: Nick nearly snorted tea out his nose.

From there, their conversation never really ended. They kept texting sporadically throughout that day, then into the next, just little things at first; pictures of their dogs, random memes, takes on the latest episodes of Taskmaster, complaints about quarantine. Soon, they were sharing more snippets about themselves. Charlie was incredibly easy to chat with, and Nick found himself opening up despite his usual, hard-learned reserve around strangers. Still, there were some details he wasn't quite ready to share.

Charlie, as it turned out, worked in publishing, and he loved his job but hated working from home. When he asked about Nick's profession, Nick hesitated, then answered, :I'm a contract worker. Between jobs at the moment, and my next job was postponed because of the quarantine. A lot of my work has to be in person, anyway, so I'm mostly doing interviews on Zoom for now.:

It was the truth, though not all of it, and Nick felt a guilty pang at not clarifying that the interviews were more likely to be with Graham Norton than with a hiring agency. He honestly wasn't entirely sure why he didn't want to tell Charlie that he was famous. It was possible Charlie already knew. They'd met in person after all, and despite the mask, hat, and sunglasses, Nick was recognizable enough that the tabloids were still usually able to track him down.

But if Charlie did know, he either didn't care or was able to act as well as the best Nick had ever worked with, because none of his behaviour at the dog park had contained any hint of the frenetic eagerness or proprietary aggression that usually characterised Nick's public interactions with strangers. Whatever the reason, Nick couldn't bring himself to reveal anything that might disturb the long-lost sense of normalcy he'd rediscovered in his conversations with Charlie.

Fortunately, just after Nick gave his vague answer, Charlie was distracted by Jarvis knocking a glass of water off his coffee table, and the conversation drifted away from that loaded topic and into safer waters.

A few days later, when Nick's phone rang, he thought it might be Sai calling about the latest script edits or Otis with an update on the Stand Up to Cancer fundraiser. He wouldn't have been surprised at all if it had been Tara or Darcy calling just to check in.

He had not expected an incoming call from Saint Charlie, Savior of Dogs.

He had definitely not expected a conversation like this.

"So Isaac's our communications guy," Charlie expounded. "He knows his way around a computer, and he's been running an underground podcast for the last seven years, so he'll be able to broadcast our messages to any other survivors. Elle's on wardrobe. She'll outfit us in appropriately apocalyptic gear and armour. Tao is our medic. He’s a nurse, so he's got access to all the hospital’s medical supplies."

"And what does that make you?" Nick asked when Charlie finally stopped for breath.

"I'm the getaway driver," Charlie proclaimed, "Since I am the best at Mario Kart."

Nick blinked. "I don't think that skill translates to actual driving. Do you even have a licence?"

Charlie scoffed. "Of course! And before you ask, I also have a car."

"What kind?" Nick pressed, suspicious of Charlie's defensive tone.

"A '73 VW Beetle."

Nick choked on a surprised laugh. "And it still runs?"

"She's a classic!" Charlie insisted. "And of course she runs. Mostly. When she's in a good mood and the planets are properly aligned."

"So less a getaway vehicle and more a cry for help. Got it."

Charlie ignored him and barreled right on. "I also have two fierce guard dogs to contribute to the team."

"Fierce," Nick repeated doubtfully.

"So the question is," Charlie continued, valiantly ignoring any scepticism he may have heard in Nick's voice, "What can you bring to the table?"

If there were crickets out at 2:30 pm on a Tuesday afternoon, they would have been chirping. Nick let the silence hang in the air for a moment before he said, slowly and carefully, enunciating each word: "What can I bring to your zombie apocalypse team?"

"Yes," Charlie answered.

"You're serious."

"Of course."

"Because a zombie apocalypse is so likely," Nick said dryly.

"It's always better to be prepared," Charlie insisted. "How likely did a world-stopping global pandemic seem a year ago?"

Nick paused, thought about it for a second, and shrugged. "You may have a point."

"This is why I'm the brains of this operation."

"I thought you were the getaway driver and guard dog provider."

"Those too. I know how to multitask." Charlie sounded smug. "So?"

Nick felt a jolt of nerves. It had been years since anyone had seriously asked him to justify his presence somewhere. It wasn't that he thought he deserved special treatment or anything, but life as an A-list celebrity had given him far more practice declining invitations than soliciting them. Suddenly, he felt like he was back at his first audition, gangly and uncertain and struggling to remember his lines.

This is ridiculous, he told himself, even as he wracked his brain for possible skills he could contribute. Somehow he didn't think an invitation to the Met Gala would be useful in a zombie apocalypse…or the current pandemic, come to think of it.

"Do you play an instrument?" Charlie asked. "Understand advanced chemistry? Know how to fix engines?"

No, no, and no. Nick sighed. Apparently a venn diagram of the skills needed to win an Academy Award and the skills needed to survive a horde of undead brain-eaters was two separate circles. Just because he could thrash villains on screen didn't mean...

"Oh," he said in sudden realisation. "I know jujitsu."

"What?" Charlie asked after a beat. "Really?"

Nick thought back over the training he'd done for his last several action films. "Yes. And some krav maga, karate, and aikido. I've also been working on bojutsu recently," Nick added, then clarified: "Fighting with a staff."

"Oh my god," Charlie gave a slightly manic laugh. "You really are a ninja."

Nick allowed himself a small grin. "So do I have a spot on the team?"

"Yes." Charlie said, and ridiculous though it may have been, Nick felt the tension leak out of his shoulders at the word. "You are so in."

"Lucky me," Nick said, then asked, "So you play Mario Kart?"

Within five minutes, Nick had his Switch out and dusted off, and had joined Charlie's online game.

Within an hour, he'd been beaten soundly seventeen times.

"You're right," Nick conceded in utter defeat. "You're definitely the getaway driver."

"Hey, do you want to FaceTime?" Charlie asked a couple weeks later. "I miss seeing people's faces."

Nick froze.

"Er," he said after an awkward pause, "I've been in Zoom meetings all day. I don't think I can stand another minute staring at a screen."

It wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the real reason he wanted to avoid a face-to-face chat, even in the digital world.

They'd been texting constantly, a steady diet of dog photos, snarky remarks, and internet memes. Charlie had called several more times to chat about everything from his roommate's latest film selection to Henry Maddox's theories about the demise of the Roman empire. Despite the fact that Nick usually hated talking on the phone, he'd found himself picking up every time Charlie called.

But, as far as Nick knew, Charlie still didn't have a clue who he was.

It wasn't like Nick wanted to trick him. He hadn't actually lied about anything. It was just...he liked the way things were right now, the way Charlie wasn't anxious to please or trying to impress or hating him because of some random rumour he’d read online. He was pretty sure that when Charlie figured out who he was, things were going to get awkward, and despite the fact that they’d only met once, Charlie had somehow become an important part of Nick’s life, one he really didn’t want to lose.

"You know, you could just tell me you don't want to see my ugly face," Charlie replied with a self-deprecating laugh.

"No, that's definitely not the reason," Nick said without thinking.

There was a beat of silence, and Nick wanted to kick himself. He felt heat creeping over his cheeks and held his breath waiting for Charlie to respond.

After the moment stretched for what seemed like an eternity, Charlie replied, "Good to know," a hint of laughter still in his voice, mixed with something else Nick couldn't quite place. "Put Nellie on. I have to tell her about Friday's new haircut."

Nick rolled his eyes. "You are so weird," he said. Then, "Alright, Nellie's here, and you're on speaker." He couldn't suppress the grin that spread over his lips as he listened to Charlie narrate Friday's epic battle against the electric clippers. Nellie seemed pretty entertained, too.

Chapter Text

"You're not dressed," Tara said.

Nick glanced down in confusion. "Yes I am."

Tara narrowed her eyes and Nick sat up a bit straighter. Even over a screen, that look was scary. At least, he told himself consolingly, it was only Tara on the call at the moment, and not both Tara and Darcy. There were a lot of advantages to having two of his childhood best friends as his managers, but one glaring disadvantage was the fact that they usually knew exactly how to make him squirm.

"You have a remote interview with Stephen Colbert in thirty minutes," Tara said, sounding utterly unimpressed. "Sound and video checks are in five, and you're wearing a T-shirt with a pickle on it that says 'I'm kind of a big dill.'"

"You gave me this shirt," Nick reminded her. It was one of his favourite lounge-around-the-house tees, the fabric worn soft after countless washings. She'd gifted it to him right after he'd landed his first major role.

"Darcy gave you that shirt," Tara corrected.

"The card had both of your names on it."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't exactly jive with your public image. Action heroes and swoon-worthy romantic leads do not usually wear punny tees."

Nick knew she was right. He had Late Show appropriate shirts ten steps away in his bedroom closet. The logical course of action would be to stand up, change into his usual button-down and suit jacket, and be back in time for the sound check.

Instead, Nick shrugged. "I don't know. I'm kind of feeling this."

Tara blinked. "Who are you and what have you done with Nick Nelson?"

"It's an at-home edition, right?"

Tara raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Nick shrugged. "So I should go casual."

"Okay, but the next time you decide to completely rebrand yourself, I would appreciate a bit more warning."

"Noted," Nick replied with a grin.

Nick's phone rang as soon as Colbert's face blinked off his screen.

"NICHOLAS," Darcy shouted the second he accepted the video call.

"Darcy," Nick greeted at a more reasonable volume. "Are you and Tara tag teaming me now?"

"Yes. You take a lot of minding, Nicky. It's tiring work. Also, Tara is on a call with Otis about Thursday's interview with Falon. Also-also, are you high?"

"Was the interview that bad?" Nick asked, nonplussed.

"You looked relaxed," Darcy accused.

"So?"

"You were laughing, Nick."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "It's not like I'm camera shy."

"Sure," Darcy agreed easily, "You're fabulous on camera when you have a role to play. But when you're trying to be yourself? You are the most awkward human being in the history of awkward human beings. You're just lucky most of the world sees your tight-lipped smile in interviews and interprets it as endearingly adorable. But I know you, Nicholas Nelson, and I recognize the panic in your eyes."

"I'm not that bad," Nick protested.

"Oh yes you are, and you know it. Remember the Kimmel interview last year?" Nick winced, and Darcy spared a second to smirk before she continued. "But today…that was a real laugh! And I think I actually heard you crack a joke. Maybe two. Drugs are bad for you, Nicky. Just say no."

"Jesus. There are no drugs. Where the hell do you think I'm getting drugs? We're in quarantine."

"You're acting weird," Darcy insisted.

"The world is weird," Nick countered. "You're just projecting."

Darcy made an unhappy noise. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Oh my God, Darcy. I'm not on drugs," Nick groaned. "I'm just...happy?"

Darcy gave him a narrow-eyed look.

"Why?" she demanded.

Nick scoffed. "I tell you I'm happy, and your response is 'why?'"

"You've been a film star for over a decade. You could buy half of Kent if you wanted to. You could walk into any pub in the city and choose whoever you wanted to take home."

"The pubs are closed," Nick reminded her.

Darcy levelled him with a flat stare. "Not the point. The point is, you're rich and famous and, I have been reliably informed by straight women, gay men, and bi and pan people of all genders, you're also handsome. You've had all the ingredients to make 'happy' happen for years, but tonight was the first time I've seen you genuinely smile during an interview. So what changed?"

"I met someone." Nick muttered, and instantly regretted it when Darcy shrieked.

"WHAT?! Who? Where? When?"

Nick sighed. "You forgot why and how."

"NICK. Spill now, or I'm calling Tara in here, and we will BOTH hound you for the details. If you tell me now, I'll report everything to Tara so you don't have to live through this twice."

"Tara is going to hassle me anyways."

"She'll hassle you less if you cooperate. I promise. So…?"

Nick considered his options, then with a defeated huff, he answered, "His name is Charlie. I met him at the dog park a little over a month ago. He rescued a dog from an abusive arsehole, and I kind of helped."

"Oh my God, that's adorable. I am so telling that story at your wedding."

Nick glared.

"Clearly more has happened though, or you wouldn't be all aflutter."

"I'm not…" Nick made an appalled face, "'aflutter,' whatever the hell that means."

"But you are! You're positively glowing! Like a blushing bride."

"Oh my god," Nick groaned, and hung up on her.

His phone rang, and he ignored it. It rang again, and he sent it to voicemail. It rang one more time and he picked up the video call with a sigh. "What?"

"I'll be nice, I promise, don't hang up," Darcy said quickly, then waited, clearly expecting Nick to disconnect.

Instead he closed his eyes for a solid five seconds, then opened them and levelled her with a pained look. "If I hang up on you, I know you'll just keep calling until I give in, and changing my number again is too much effort, so let's just get this over with."

Darcy grinned. "That's the spirit! Come on, Nick. I'm just happy for you."

"There's no reason to be," Nick said a little stiffly. "We're not together or anything. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Even if he's not into guys, I'm sure he'd be into you."

"Darcy," Nick groaned.

"Fine, fine. I guess it's possible that he's part of the point-one percent of the population that isn't Nick-sexual. So what is it about this guy that's made you so adorably red?" She waggled her eyebrows.

Nick manfully resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room. "Jesus, Darce. Whatever you're thinking, it's not that." Sensing his distress, Nellie hopped up next to him and shoved her head under his hand. He tangled his fingers in her soft fur like a lifeline. "We met one time at the dog park, and since then we've just texted and talked on the phone. We send each other pictures of our dogs." He paused and swallowed before continuing. "He asked me if I wanted to FaceTime once. I said no, and I haven't been back to that dog park since."

Darcy's brows drew down. "Why not?"

"He doesn't know who I am," Nick answered, a little too softly.

"What?" Darcy demanded. "He doesn't...How is that possible? I thought you said you met."

Nick snorted a laugh. "There are people in the world who don't know me."

"Bullshit," Darcy said. "You're recognized in places that don't have ready access to running water. How could someone living in London not know who you are?"

Nick gestured vaguely at his face. "I was wearing a mask."

Darcy huffed out an incredulous laugh. "You're pretty distinctive, even in a mask."

"I had shades on, too. And a hat! And it was kind of a high stress situation. There was shouting and dog-kicking, and a lot of pent up rage, and then there were dog introductions and a rechristening, and I was in no way the centre of anyone's attention."

Darcy blinked. "You really don't think this guy knows who you are?" she asked, looking somewhat bemused.

Nick sighed. "Almost positive."

"Why haven't you told him?"

Nick closed his eyes. "I don't want things to get awkward."

"Nick," Darcy said slowly, in the tone she usually reserved for breaking bad news. "The longer you leave it, the more awkward it will be."

"I know…I just–" Nick hesitated. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Charlie is funny and he's kind and he beats me at Mario Kart and he's not trying to impress me or sell me anything. He's being himself. I don't want that to change."

"Oh, Nicky," Darcy said a bit sadly.

Nick shook his head. "I know it's selfish, but...this is the first time in a long time that I've been able to be just Nick the guy, not Nick the famous guy. To know someone's talking to me for me, you know?"

"I get it, Nick. I really do," Darcy said, and she was still using that slow and careful tone. God, he really hated that tone. "But the thing is you are Nick the famous guy. You're a lot more than that, too, but that part of you isn't magically going to go away. And if you aren't honest with this guy–" She let the thought hang, unfinished. "You really seem to like him. Hell, I haven't even met him, but I already like him because he makes you happy. Why don't you give him a chance to get to know you? All of you. Maybe he'll surprise you."

"Yeah," Nick said, without much hope. "Maybe."

"Whatever happens, Tara and I will always be here for you."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Nick replied, aiming for sarcastic, but missing by miles.

"Call me tomorrow so we can get started on the promo video for the Stand Up to Cancer fundraiser."

"Alright," Nick agreed. "Talk to you tomorrow."

He hung up and stared out his window, Darcy’s words swirling around in his mind. What would happen if he told Charlie?

Darcy was probably right. The longer he put it off, the worse it would be. And maybe Charlie wouldn't freak out and start acting weird. It was entirely possible that he'd take it in stride and nothing would change.

It was also entirely possible that Nick would lose one of the best friends he'd ever had.

His phone rang.

Alright, he thought, making a deal with the universe. If that's Charlie calling, I'll tell him right now.

He glanced down at his screen and cursed when he saw the notification.

Incoming call from Tara Jones.

"That lying traitor," Nick muttered, sparing a moment to send murderous thoughts in Darcy's direction, then he reluctantly answered his phone.

Chapter Text

:i'm really worried about victoria: Charlie sent out of the blue that night.

After Darcy's pep-talk, Nick had been working up the courage to call Charlie and confess, but he couldn't think of a way to say "By the way, I was in two of the the films you watched with Tao yesterday" that didn't make him sound like a massive knob. Now, reading Charlie's message, his anxiety about confessing he was famous was rapidly overwhelmed by his concern for Charlie's family.

:That's your sister, right? Did something happen to her?: Nick asked, worry blooming in the pit of his stomach. Charlie didn't talk about his family very often, but Nick knew that he had an older sister and a younger brother, and that neither lived in London.

:not exactly: Charlie responded, then before Nick had time to text back, he sent :we've always been close, and it's tough right now because i can't see her in person:

:I feel the same way about my mum.: Nick replied. :It's bloody awful not to be able to give her a hug. I miss her.:

The typing indicator popped up on Nick's screen, then disappeared. It popped up again, then vanished. Nick squinted at the screen, thumbing it up to refresh, but there were no new messages. After another handful of seconds, the indicator reappeared, and Nick watched it for a full two minutes, wondering what Charlie was struggling to convey. He thought about just calling, but something made him hesitate. Charlie hadn't shared much about his family before. Maybe he needed the time and relative distance of texting to organise his thoughts.

Finally, after another long minute of waiting, a new message came in. Nick blinked down at the wall of text.

:yeah, tori's not much of a hugger, but she's always been there for me. our parents aren't exactly super involved. they're great, don't get me wrong, but they were both busy most of the time, so tori looked after me a lot when we were kids, and we both looked after oliver. when i was outed as gay in year nine at school, the bullying got really bad. she helped me through it. i'm pretty sure she threatened the guys who were harassing me or something because the bullying stopped mysteriously halfway through the year. i saw one of the guys nearly pass out at the sight of her a few weeks later. she wouldn't tell me what she'd said to them, but whatever it was, it was bloody effective. they never even looked at me again. anyways, i owe her so much, and now i'm pretty sure she's dealing with her own issues, and it's so hard not to be there for her. it's not the first time she's struggled with this stuff, but it's the first time i haven't been able to support her in person:

Nick read the message through, then read it again, an odd mixture of feelings churning in his chest. His eyes caught on the word 'gay' and he felt a frantic sort of swoop in his gut, like he'd taken a step forward expecting his foot to hit solid ground and instead found nothing but empty air beneath it. Nick didn't have time to analyse that feeling, though, as admiration at Charlie's causal ability to talk about his sexuality was quickly eclipsed by impotent rage at the thought of the faceless bullies from Charlie's school days. None of those things were the point of Charlie's text, though, so Nick tried to keep his words focused on Charlie's actual concern, carefully filing away his other revelations to think about later.

:Your sister sounds amazing.: He typed. :It's such utter crap that you can't be with her right now. I'm sure she knows that you want to be, though, and that probably means a lot.:

:yeah. it doesn't actually change anything, though:

:What makes you think she's not doing alright?: Nick asked, gently probing for more information. He wanted to help, but he felt a bit at a loss about what to do beyond giving Charlie space to vent his worry.

:i don't really know. it's not just one thing. she's always had some mental health issues. depression and that kind of stuff. she's just been kind of distant recently, i guess?:

Nick started to reply, but the typing indicator popped up again, so he waited for Charlie's next message.

:she has a blog that she usually updates every couple days, but she hasn't touched it in weeks. and she usually calls me every few days to check in, but lately i've been calling her. a lot of the time she doesn't answer. ollie's worried, too. he texted me this morning when he couldn't get ahold of her.:

:Do you mind if I call you?: Nick sent, and a few seconds later his phone rang.

As soon as he picked up, Charlie said "Sorry, I didn't mean to unload all that stuff on you."

"It's not a problem," Nick assured him. "You don't need to apologise."

"Sorry," Charlie answered sheepishly.

"You say that a lot."

Charlie laughed softly, but unlike his usual high-pitched giggle that Nick had grown so fond of over the past few weeks, this laugh sounded tight and tired. "Yeah, old habit I guess. Sorry."

"Char," Nick scolded, teasing, "You said it again. No more apologies, I mean it. I'm happy to listen any time you want to vent."

"Char?" Charlie asked, and Nick's stomach clenched as he realised what he'd said.

"God, sorry, that just slipped out."

"No, no. It's fine," Charlie said, and this time Nick thought he could hear a smile in his voice. "No apologies allowed, remember? Besides, I kind of like it. It's cute."

Nick felt his lips curve up in a grin. "Well, that's too bad because I'm never calling you it again."

"Unfair," Charlie protested, then sighed, and Nick felt a little thread of anxiety resurface at the tired sound.

"I know you're worried about your sister," he said, "But are you alright? You sound drained."

"I'm fine," Charlie said, a little too quickly. Nick waited for a beat, then Charlie sighed again and amended, "Mostly fine. I mean, I'm worried about Tori, obviously, and there's some drama at work, but it's nothing big. I'm just stressed and haven't eaten much today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nick offered.

"It's really nothing," Charlie said. "Just an idiot editor who didn't know how to use the private chat channels on Zoom, so he announced to the whole meeting that he wasn't thrilled with the new 'woke' direction our HR manager is going with hiring."

"What?" Nick asked, a surge of protective anger coursing through his body. "He's a homophobe?"

"Probably, but I've been working with the company for three years now, so I don't think it was directed at me specifically. My friend Elle was hired as a regular cover artist with our firm a few days ago, though, and she's trans."

Nick's jaw clenched involuntarily, and he ground out, "So he's a transphobe, too? What a dickhead."

"Yeah. But he's kind of ancient, so I guess it's not really unexpected."

"No," Nick said, his anger simmering. "No, that's utter crap, honestly. His age doesn't excuse his behaviour. People can be old and still be compassionate and accepting. It sounds like he's just a narrow minded, selfish prat."

"You're not wrong," Charlie agreed.

Nick ran a restless hand across the back of his neck as he considered his next words, wondering how much he wanted to reveal. His sexuality wasn't something he talked about often, or ever, really, with strangers. But Charlie was far from a stranger these days, and he'd already trusted Nick with a lot of his own vulnerabilities, and there was something about his unashamed openness that made Nick trust him in return.

"When I was nineteen, I told my family I was bi," Nick said softly. "My brother laughed in my face and told me I was just horny and confused."

"Wow," Charlie said. "He sounds like an absolute twatwaffle."

Nick barked out a startled laugh, and heard Charlie swear under his breath.

"Sorry! Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to insult your brother," Charlie backpedalled frantically.

"No apologising," Nick reminded him, still laughing. "And no worries anyways. David deserves any name you throw at him. He is a complete twatwaffle."

"He definitely sounds like one," Charlie agreed. "I can't even imagine my family trying to deny my sexuality. They're not perfect or anything, but I've never once felt judged by them for being gay. I'm sorry your brother's such a dick."

"He wasn't when I was a kid," Nick admitted. "He was actually kind of awesome back then. I used to follow him everywhere, and he'd put up with me even though I'm sure I was really annoying. We'd do family board game nights and play Monopoly or Balderdash or cards, and just hang out. David and I were always on one team and my parents were on the other." Nick scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing a bit at the memories. "After my parents got a divorce, though, he got really bitter, and now he's always super caustic and cynical. I can hardly stand to be around him."

"That's rough," Charlie acknowledged.

"It's life, I guess. And it's not all bad. My mom's absolutely amazing, and my dad, well. He's fine. A bit distant, but I guess that comes with living abroad. So it's not all terrible or anything. I do miss the board game nights, though."

"Oh my god, that's perfect," Charlie said with a new note of excitement in his voice.

"What is?" Nick asked, a bit bemused.

"My friends and I have game nights all the time. You can join us!" Charlie paused for a second, then hastily added, "Well, once the whole quarantine thing is over and it's safe to go to people's houses again. You should totally come! I've got Monopoly, but there are so many awesome games that you probably haven't played, like Ticket to Ride and Wingspan. And Seven Wonders is great, too! And Catan. Man, this is going to be so much fun..." Charlie's words trailed off, and he cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "I mean, if you want to."

"Yeah," Nick couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at his lips. Charlie's enthusiasm was infectious. "That sounds amazing." He'd just have to find some way to let Charlie know who he was before that time came. Considering all the revelations they'd already had today, though, now didn't seem like quite the right time to drop that particular bombshell.

Maybe it should have registered as strange that telling Charlie he was bi (his best kept secret from the general public) had been as easy as breathing, while telling Charlie he was famous (something everyone else who met him knew instantly) was proving almost impossible. The problem, Nick knew, was that he wanted Charlie to know him, the real him, and not the mask Nick wore in public. It was easy to let Charlie behind the mask because Charlie probably didn't even know there was a mask to slip behind. And, Nick had to admit, it was easy to let Charlie in because he was kind and caring and one of the best people Nick had ever met.

That thought brought Nick back to the reason that Charlie had contacted him in the first place. "Hey," he said, as the idea occurred to him, "Do you know anyone near Tori who could go check on her?"

"Oh! Yeah, I do, actually." Nick could hear a hint of relief in Charlie's voice. "Michael lives near her. I bet he could do a driveby at least. Thanks, Nick."

"Any time," Nick answered sincerely. He heard Charlie yawn on the other side of the phone and his own yawn reflex kicked in in response.

Charlie laughed. "Sounds like it's bedtime."

"Just about," Nick agreed, his voice a little rough. "Don't forget to eat something before you head to bed."

"Right," Charlie replied with a soft chuckle. "Night, Nick."

"Goodnight, Char."

Chapter Text

"How's Tori?" Nick asked when Charlie rang the next day.

"Not great," Charlie answered. "Having Michael stop by was a good idea. Apparently it took him a couple minutes of knocking, but she eventually answered the door. He said she looked pretty rough, and he could see her place was a mess. I guess between the pandemic and work stress, something triggered her depression."

"Shit," Nick swore, staring out his window but not really seeing anything. "It's a good thing you and Oliver thought to check in on her."

Charlie heaved a tired sigh. "Yeah, I mean, she's always been pretty independent, but it looks like living on her own right now isn't a good idea. Luckily, Michael managed to convince her to move into the spare room in his flat until she's back on her feet."

"Oh, good," Nick said. "So she won't be alone."

"Yeah, but…I mean, I kind of feel bad? I know Michael's Tori's friend, but I didn't mean to make this his problem when I asked him to go check on her. It's not like there's many other options, because I don't think her moving back in with my parents would be a good idea. They've always had a bit of a strained relationship. And unfortunately my place is too far away and there's not much extra space, so moving in with Tao and I wouldn't be very practical. But it doesn't seem fair that Michael should have to take this on."

"Did you ask Michael to let Tori stay with him?" Nick asked.

"No," Charlie answered. "He just called and said he'd offered, and she'd agreed."

"Then it sounds like he made the decision on his own, so there's no reason to feel guilty about it. And if he's Tori's friend, I'm sure he wants to help her."

"Yeah, I guess," Charlie allowed, though he still sounded unsure. "He's also helped Tori get back in touch with her therapist, so hopefully between that, the change in scenery, and the company, things will start to improve."

"Those all sound like steps in the right direction."

"I'm going to try to go see her tomorrow," Charlie said, sounding more certain about that than the rest. "I know travelling isn't the best idea right now, but if I do an at-home test before I head out, drive myself, and mask up whenever I get out of the car, I think I can do it safely. Tori and Michael are both working remotely, so none of us are very high-risk, and Michael said I could stay with them for a week."

"Charlie, that's great. I'm sure Tori will appreciate having you there."

"I hope so," Charlie replied.

Charlie headed out the next day to see his sister. His texts slowed, and he didn't call at all. Nick assumed that meant he was having some much-needed sibling bonding time with Tori, and he was happy for them. He really was. But somehow he found himself thumbing through the back-log of their conversations and rereading old texts in an attempt to fill the Charlie-shaped void suddenly occupying his life. He also found himself flipping back through all the photos Charlie had sent him, from those first shots of bath-time chaos to more recent pictures of Jarvis and Friday frolicking together on a long walk. He grinned as he noticed the differences in Friday. She'd gone from a dirty, scruffy, and defeated pup to a clean, fit, and happy dog since Charlie had taken her in. The transformation had been gradual enough that Nick hadn't noticed it as it happened, but flipping through the photos one after the other made the change readily apparent.

Then Nick caught sight of Charlie's image in one of the more recent bath-time photos. A sudsy Jarvis sporting a tongue-lolling doggy grin was the central focus of the picture, but in the upper left corner, the bathroom mirror had captured Charlie's reflection. Nick swiped to zoom in, and frowned a bit as Charlie's slightly unfocused image came into view. The shot was, in some ways, reminiscent of that first photo Charlie'd sent of himself, the one in the wet shirt that was emblazoned in Nick's memory. But there was definitely something off about the Charlie in this photo. He was smiling, but he looked pale and thin, with dark circles hanging heavily under his eyes.

Worry stirred in the pit of Nick's stomach, and he flipped back to the first picture again. This time, as he scrolled through the photos, he focused on Charlie specifically, pausing to zoom in on any part of the man he could see.

The pool of worry deepened as he spotted a gradual shift.

Charlie wasn't in most of the photos he sent. They usually shared shots of their dogs, of their computer screens, of funny things they saw on their daily outings. But, while Nick had consciously avoided sending any pictures with himself in frame, Charlie had occasionally sent photos where he was visible, either in an accidental reflection or in a selfie with one or both of his dogs.

In that first picture, the one with the wet shirt, Charlie'd been slim, but he'd also looked healthy, his olive skin warm and his dark curls glossy under the fluorescent bathroom lights. As Nick scrolled on, though, the angles of Charlie's collarbones got sharper, the hollows in his cheeks deeper, and the pallor of his skin grew more and more sallow.

Was it possible that Charlie was sick? Was he hiding a secret about his own life the same way Nick was?

Nick felt unease roil through his stomach at the thought.

It made a sudden and horrible kind of sense. Nick was defined by his fame in nearly every part of his own life, and talking to Charlie had been a haven of sorts, allowing him to live in a world without expectations, where he was free to be himself and nothing more.

If Charlie was sick…

Nick swallowed around the bile rising in his throat.

If Charlie was sick, if he had a major, life-altering illness, wouldn't it be the same kind of escape to talk to someone who didn't know about his health issues?

Nick combed back through his texts and his memories of their conversations, looking for any hints that Charlie might have dropped. He could remember a few times when Charlie'd sounded tired, when his voice had lacked inflection. He'd always blamed work stress or the pandemic for his bad mood, which seemed reasonable enough at the time. Charlie had also mentioned a lack of appetite a few times, and now Nick wondered why that hadn't raised any red flags.

He took a deep breath and tried to slow his spiralling thoughts. He knew it wasn't fair to jump to conclusions based on a few photographs and some half-remembered conversations. And it wasn't like Nick could fault Charlie for keeping secrets if there actually was something going on. Nick wasn't exactly the posterboy for transparency himself at this point.

Still, the worry gnawed at him, and he resolved to ask Charlie about it when he was back in town.

"So Tori's doing better?" Nick asked, about a week later.

"Yeah," Charlie sounded quietly pleased. "Being at Michael's is really helping. She's back on her meds and talking to her therapist regularly. She's not out of the woods yet, but she's working on it."

"I'm glad to hear that," Nick replied, then paused, wondering what to say next.

He'd been trying to come up with some plan for asking Charlie about his health, but every way he'd phrased the question just made him feel like a nosey parker. Hearing Charlie's upbeat answer also made him wonder, yet again, if he'd jumped too quickly to conclusions based on a few flimsy pieces of evidence.

Finally, he just asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Charlie said with an easy laugh. "I think the visit was good for me, too. It was nice to get out of the house, and great to see Tori. God. I can't wait for the vaccine to come out so we can start living like normal people again."

Nick felt the knot of worry in his gut ease a little at Charlie's good cheer. "I'm glad you had a good time," he said, and though he was still more than a little bit concerned, he decided not to press.

Several days later, Nick blinked at the screen as King Boo sped across the finish line just ahead of Toad and raised his ghostly arm in victory.

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Congrats," Charlie replied with a tired laugh.

"I won?" Nick squinted suspiciously at the leaderboard as it popped up. Sure enough, he'd come first.

"You won," Charlie confirmed.

"That…" Nick stammered. "That doesn't happen."

Charlie chuckled. "Oh, come on. You had to get lucky at some point."

Nick snorted. "Oh, so it was all luck was it?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't skill," Charlie snarked back.

"Excuse me?" Nick demanded with mock indignation, prodding to see if he could get more of a rise out of Charlie. Charlie had been oddly quiet all evening, and Nick really wanted to make him laugh. "Maybe you're just losing your touch."

"Yeah, maybe." Charlie agreed, and the resigned tone of his voice raised all sorts of alarm bells in Nick's mind.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Nothing," Charlie said, a little too quickly.

"Char," Nick coaxed as the worry he'd been trying to suppress all week reared up again. "What is it? Did that guy at your work say something awful again? Or is Tori having more trouble?"

"No," Charlie insisted. "No, really. It's nothing like that. I'm just not feeling great today."

"Have you eaten anything?" Nick asked.

"No." Charlie answered. "I don't really have an appetite."

Nick glanced at the clock and winced when he saw it was nearly midnight.

"Charlie," he started, hesitant. He didn't want to overstep, but the nagging concern that had been building since he'd looked through his photo album wouldn't let him stay silent. Taking a careful breath, Nick continued, "It seems like you don't have an appetite pretty often."

He heard Charlie shift on the other side of the line, the rustle of clothing and the creak of a chair. "Yeah, I just…I don't really like talking about it."

Nick felt his shoulders tense. Charlie sounded uncomfortable, but that just made Nick's worry spike even further. A part of him wanted to back off, to leave Charlie his privacy. Charlie had never pushed Nick about his cagey avoidance of video calls and work details afterall. Still, Nick couldn't shake the feeling that this was something big, something Charlie shouldn't have to deal with on his own. He hated the idea that Charlie might have been suffering in silence all the months they'd been talking, so instead of leaving it at that, Nick took a steadying breath and said: "Maybe you should try?"

Charlie was silent for a moment, then he finally said, "I don't know." He took a deep breath, and Nick waited, giving him room to sort out his thoughts. "There's a lot in my life that I can't control, you know? Like the pandemic, or that homophobic bastard at work, or my sister's mental health stuff. Food is one thing I can control."

Nick inhaled sharply as his nebulous fears about Charlie's health solidified in a tight knot in his throat. He hesitated, waiting to see if Charlie would go on. When the line stayed silent, Nick prompted, "And you control it by not eating?"

Charlie let out a tired sigh. "Sometimes? Sometimes I don't want to eat. Sometimes I can't. On days like today, just looking at food makes me feel sick."

"Charlie," Nick fought to keep his voice calm and even despite the stranglehold of his emotions, "That doesn't sound like you're the one in control."

There was a long pause, then Charlie cursed, and Nick heard him take in a shuddering breath.

"Charlie," Nick said, his eyes stinging suddenly with unshed tears. "Charlie, talk to me."

"Shit," Charlie cursed again. "When you say it like that, I just…"

"Charlie," Nick repeated, clinging to his name like a lifeline.

"It's an eating disorder, isn't it? Jesus Christ, why is my brain so bloody broken?" Charlie's voice was shaking, and Nick knew he was crying even though he couldn't see his face. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not," Nick broke in, still reeling little from how quickly their fun game night had derailed, but completely certain of that at least. "Listen to me Char. You're not an idiot. You're amazing. You're so smart. A proper nerd." Charlie choked out a wet laugh at that, and Nick soldiered on. "You're one of the best parts of my life, and we've only met once. Don't you ever doubt how brilliant you are, or the positive impact you have on the world." The quiet sniffling on the other end of the line made Nick's heart ache. He clutched his phone, wishing he could clutch Charlie instead. "You have so many people who care about you." Nick paused, swallowed, a little afraid to push, but not knowing what else to do. "Charlie, I think you might need to tell someone. Someone who's there with you. Someone who can be there with you, now."

"You're with me," Charlie whispered, and Nick couldn't hold back his own tears at that.

"I am, Charlie," he agreed. "And I'll stay with you. But I'm not there in person, and I think you might need someone to be there with you right now." Charlie sniffed, and Nick scrubbed the wetness off his own cheeks, fighting to keep his voice steady. "You're so strong, Charlie. I just don't think you should have to deal with this alone."

"I wish you could be here," Charlie said, and the quiet admission punched all the air out of Nick's lungs.

"I wish I was there with you, too," Nick choked out. "But I'm not. I can't be right now." And Nick hated that, hated the virus and the whole world for shutting down and his own idiotic choices that had put this wall up between them, made him less able to be the support Charlie needed right now.

"I know," Charlie's voice was hollow. "It's not your fault."

Some of it was, Nick knew. But he couldn't do anything about it now. And as much as Nick might regret some of his choices, this wasn't about him right now. This was about Charlie, and about getting Charlie the help that he needed. "Is Tao there?"

"Yeah. He's sleeping."

"Do you think you could tell him?" Nick asked. He'd never communicated directly with Charlie's roommate, but Charlie talked about him often enough that he felt like he knew the guy. Tao might be a bit prickly, and had terrible taste in films, but he was fiercely loyal and more importantly there where he could actually do something for Charlie. "Would he be able to help you?"

"I think…" Charlie swallowed. "Yeah. I think I can tell him."

"Then I think you should wake him up."

Charlie let out a surprised laugh at that. "Wake Tao up? Are you trying to get me killed?"

Nick smiled a little bit at the note of humour in Charlie's voice. "I'm sure he'll understand."

"You've never met him," Charlie insisted. "You have no idea how cranky he is when he doesn't get a full night's sleep."

"Charlie," Nick pleaded softly. "Please. I need to know that you have someone there with you. Someone to help you."

"You're helping me," Charlie insisted.

"Charlie," Nick tried again. "Please?"

"Jesus. Yeah, alright," Charlie gave in. Nick heard the rustling of fabric and the muffled click of an opening door, then the noise quieted and Charlie sniffed. "Nick?"

"Yes?"

"Will you stay on the phone with me while I talk to him?"

"Of course. I'll be here as long as you need me. We can talk to him together, if you want."

"Thanks," Charlie said, and Nick heard the solid rap of his fist hitting Tao's door.

Chapter Text

Nick's phone vibrated on his bed stand. He rolled towards it, reaching out blearily as he rubbed the back of his other hand over his tired eyes. It was just past eight a.m. according to his alarm clock, and he'd been on the phone with Charlie and Tao until well after four. Not that he'd actually gotten any sleep after he'd hung up. He'd been too sick with worry about Charlie to do anything but toss and turn and stare listlessly at his ceiling.

His phone buzzed again, and Nick squinted at the screen. There were two messages from an unknown number.

:Hi: the first one read, then a few seconds later, :This is Tao, Charlie's roommate.:

Nick was suddenly wide awake, pushing himself upright and blinking to clear his eyes. He tapped quickly at his screen, feeling the wave of worry that had been swirling uneasily in his belly begin to swell and press against his lungs.

:Is Charlie alright?:

:He's fine: Tao sent, and Nick felt the flood of worry recede just a little bit before the typing indicator popped up again. :Well, not fine, but as fine as he can be considering everything. He asked me to text you. He's not going to have access to his phone for a while:

Nick stared down at the screen, uncomprehending. :What? Why?:

There was a long pause before the three dots reappeared, and Nick clenched his phone in tense fingers.

:This is really weird: Tao finally wrote. :I don't know you, and I don't know why Charlie trusts you, especially with this private information:

Nick swallowed thickly. Tao was right, of course. As far as he knew, Nick was a virtual stranger. But the thought of suddenly being cut off from talking to and texting with Charlie every day felt like a punch in the gut. The thought that he might be cut off from all news of what was happening to Charlie was even worse.

:I'm worried about him.: Nick finally typed. :I care about him, and I just want him to be okay.:

:Me too: Tao replied. :And, thanks, I guess: There was another brief pause, then Tao sent :For getting him to talk to me. I knew something was wrong, but Charlie never wants to burden other people with his problems. So thank you:

:Of course.: Nick answered. :I am just so relieved that you're with him.:

:Well, I'm not with him right now: Tao sent, and Nick felt the tide of worry rush in again.

:What?: he demanded. :You left him alone?:

:Of course not: Tao shot back. :After we got off the phone last night, Charlie and I talked, and we decided it'd be best if we went to the A&E. He got assessed there, and they recommended that he try inpatient treatment. He agreed:

Nick felt his stomach drop. :What does that mean? How long will he be there?:

:I don't know: Tao replied. :The docs said it could be anywhere from several days to several months. It depends on Charlie and the progress of his recovery:

:God.: Nick replied. It felt like the bottom had fallen out of his world, and Nick had no idea how to plug the hole. :That's a long time, but I'm glad he's getting help.:

:Yeah: Tao agreed.

Nick stared blankly at his screen for a long minute before the three dots reappeared, and another message popped up.

:Listen, he won't have his phone while he's in there, so you won't be able to contact him, and they're being really strict about visitors because of the pandemic. I can tell Charlie really cares about you, so I'll keep you updated as long as Charlie says it's okay.:

Nick let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. :Thanks. I'd really appreciate that.:

:I should warn you now, though, that if you're messing with him, I will find you and I will end you, no matter how much of a real-life ninja you are.:

Nick gave a surprised huff of amusement as he read Tao's message. :That's fair. You're a good friend. Charlie's lucky he has you.:

:I know: Tao replied gruffly, and Nick was startled to find himself actually smiling. Tao might be abrasive, but he clearly had Charlie's best interests at heart. Then he felt his smile slip sideways and fade away. Did covering up his job count as messing with Charlie? He hoped not.

:When you get the chance, tell Charlie I'm thinking of him and I miss him already. And give Jarvis and Friday a pat for me.:

An image of both dogs loaded on his screen a minute later with the caption :Charlie said to send you at least one photo of the dogs every day. I don't know why, but I agreed, so here you go.:

Nick didn't try to fight the grin that split his face this time, looking down at the image of the two relaxed pups. :Thank you.: he sent back, warmed by the thought that at least when Charlie came home, he would have a house full of happy dogs and one grumpy Tao to greet him.

Weeks passed, and Nick received his daily dog photos from Tao. Friday and Jarvis looked happy enough most of the time, but their sad puppy eyes in several of the pictures echoed Nick's silent yearnings to hear from Charlie. Tao also sent along news about Charlie after every weekly, supervised call. The updates were brief, but overall Charlie seemed to be improving. Apparently, he'd gained some weight back and was feeling less anxiety about food. Tao reported that he was responding well to therapy and had started keeping a journal as one tool to cope with the pressure. The doctors thought he might be able to come home sometime in the not-too-distant future.

Nick had several projects he was supposed to be working on, some fundraising efforts, some scripts to look through, and a few contracts to review. It was hard to concentrate on anything, though, with Charlie gone.

The Charlie-shaped hole in his life had been difficult to live with in the week he'd visited Tori, but that hollowness was nothing compared to this complete lack of contact. Nick felt like an amputee, like he'd lost some essential part of himself, a part he wasn't sure how to function without. He caught himself a hundred times a day picking up his phone to text Charlie a stray thought, or opening their conversation to forward him a funny video or meme. Each time, when he remembered Charlie wasn't there to receive the message, a stab of pain would lance through his chest. Sometimes he sent the messages anyways, because Charlie would be able to read them when he was out of the hospital and maybe they'd make him smile. Most of the time, though, he just deleted them, because the idea that Charlie couldn't read them right away hurt too much.

Nellie, always sensitive to Nick's moods, stayed close. She nudged her way onto the couch every time he sat down, and followed him from room to room when he paced listlessly around his flat. When the weather allowed, Nick took her back to the dog park where they'd first met Charlie. They played with her favourite Frisbee, and Nick sent Charlie's phone pictures of her particularly acrobatic leaps.

During the fifth week of Charlie's absence, Nick heard a knock at his front door. He glanced out the peephole, then opened it as soon as he saw who was standing outside.

"The vultures are back," Imogen sing-songed, as she ducked past Nick and into his flat. Nick glanced beyond her and saw three flashes go off a little ways in the distance before he managed to close the door.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Great. Ten pounds says The Daily Mail will have us dating again by morning."

Nick and Imogen had met three years ago when they starred in a terrible romcom together. They'd instantly bonded over their love of Pot Noodles and The Great British Bake Off, and had been fast friends ever since. Despite rumours to the contrary, they'd never dated, but their continual protests did nothing to dissuade the fevered speculation. It probably didn't help that their flats were within walking distance from one another and they had basically lived in each other's pockets before the lockdown started.

"You should be so lucky," Imogen said with a wink, handing Nick a suspiciously full Tesco bag. "I guess I'm going to have to stop shopping alone again. Those creeps followed me from the store all the way to your front gate."

"I hope you brought chocolate," Nick said with a sigh, peering at the bag as Imogen bent down to ruffle Nellie's fur in greeting. "If the paparazzi are back in force, I'm going to need some comfort food. What are you doing here, by the way?"

"Didn't you hear that the government eased restrictions for the holidays?" She straightened and headed into the apartment, Nick and Nellie following along behind. "I was bored, and you're my favourite distraction. And who do you take me for? Of course I brought chocolate. And ice cream. And alcohol."

"Oh god," Nick groaned, setting the bag on the kitchen counter with a distinctive clink of glass bottles. "Are we getting drunk? Please tell me we're not getting drunk."

Imogen snorted. "Oh, we're getting drunk, my lad. I have been reliably informed that you are pining, and I need all the details."

"I am not pining," Nick scoffed. When Imogen just laughed at that, Nick repeated, "I am not pining. And I am going to kill Darcy."

"Actually, Tara told me," Imogen said with a smirk as she started pulling snacks and bottles out of the shopping bag with all the grandiose flourishes of a magician producing rabbits from a hat.

Nick closed his eyes and tipped his head back. "Mass murder it is,then," he declared with a resigned sigh. "Now, give me that Mars Bar before I put you on the list, too."

:Charlie's coming home today.: Tao sent one Thursday in mid-January instead of his usual dog photo.

:WHAT???: Nick typed, his stomach flipping over as he read the text again just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood.

:I'm picking him up at noon. I'm sure he'll be texting you as soon as he has his phone back. Just wanted to give you a heads up:

:Thanks: Nick replied, a strange, weightless sensation prickling its way down his limbs. :I'll make sure I have my phone with me.:

Nick's screen lit up at 12:02 with an incoming call from Saint Charlie, Savior of Dogs. He answered before it finished the first ring.

"Charlie?" He asked, breath hitching with excitement.

"Nick? Oh my god, it's so good to hear your voice."

Nick knew what he meant. Just the sound of Charlie saying his name made his throat tighten with emotion. "Christ, it's been too long."

"Sorry," Charlie said.

"No, no," Nick rushed to reassure him. "You have nothing to apologise for. I'm so glad you chose to get help. I just missed you, is all."

"I missed you, too," Charlie admitted. Then he laughed, the sound sending warmth all the way to Nick's toes. "I can tell you missed me because I have over three hundred unread text messages for you."

Nick felt his face flush. Had he sent that many? "Er, yeah. It's all nonsense, really. Just stuff that made me think of you. You don't actually have to read any of it."

"Nice try. I'm definitely going to read every single one. In fact, I'll probably read them on the way home because I'm making Tao drive so I can catch up with everything."

Nick heard the sound of a car door closing and the swish and click of a seatbelt being fastened.

"How are you feeling?" Nick ventured as the steady thrum of an engine started up in the background.

"Mostly good," Charlie answered. "It's a bit weird to be out in the real world again. And I missed so much! All of the holiday chaos, and the Queen getting the vaccine. And you probably already know that Marvel pushed back the release date for their newest film until people can watch it in the cinema, which is sad, but I guess it makes sense."

Nick felt his stomach flip at the mention of his latest movie, even as a male voice in the background that was probably Tao intoned in a dramatic voice, "Blasphemy! How dare you talk about such vile capitalistic drivel in my presence?"

"Focus on driving, you snob," Charlie said with a snort, and ignored Tao's strangely Scottish-sounding protest of "Rude!" as he refocused on Nick. "Apparently you'll have to see that one with me when they eventually do release it because Tao is definitely not going."

"Yeah, of course," Nick agreed, stomach still roiling, because he had to tell Charlie. He had to. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, then forced himself to say, "By the way," just as Charlie said, "So." They both paused, waiting for the other to speak.

"You go first," Nick said after a beat, buying himself a little more time to organise his chaotic thoughts.

"Right," Charlie laughed again, and it was maybe a little worrisome how much Nick had missed that sound. "So Tao and I were thinking that we could do a game night tomorrow at our place with you and Elle as a sort of homecoming celebration? Just the four of us so we won't be breaking any guidelines or anything. What do you think?"

"Oh!" Nick stalled, eagerness and nerves warring in his gut. "Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun."

"Brilliant!" Charlie enthused. "You should bring Nellie along. I'll text you the address. We've got all kinds of games. Cards Against Humanity and Saboteur. Tao desperately wants to play Pandemic for some reason, even though I told him it's too soon."

"It's a good game!" Tao insisted, sounding slightly tinny with the distance.

"That sounds great," Nick said, then took a deep breath, steeling himself. If he was going to tell Charlie, it was now or never, and he had to tell him. It would be a total dick move to spring everything on him in person, especially considering the possibly delicate state of his current mental health. Nick cleared his throat and started, "You know, uh, I realised a bit ago that I've never told you my last name."

"Oh, yeah!" Charlie laughed again, and Nick clutched his phone like he could grab onto that sound and hold it close. "I guess that's true, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, if I'm coming over tomorrow, it'd probably be good for you to know it, right?"

"Sure. That makes sense," Charlie agreed.

Nick swallowed thickly, then forced out, "It's Nelson. I'm Nick Nelson."

"That suits you," Charlie said easily. "Hey, Tori's calling me, so I've got to go. But I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Er," Nick blinked. "Yeah. Sure. See you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Charlie said, and the line disconnected.

"Uh, bye?" Nick said into the silence that followed. He pulled his phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, feeling awkward and wrongfooted. He wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected, but that definitely wasn't it.

Was it possible Charlie had known this whole time? He stared into space for a solid minute as his mind whirred through the possibilities, panic and confusion swirling uneasily in his mind. Finally giving in, he scrolled through his contacts until he found the only person who might be able to help.

"Imogen," he croaked as soon as she picked up.

"Nick?" Imogen asked. "Are you okay, hun?"

"No. I'm going over to Charlie's tomorrow, and I need you to tell me how to not completely fuck this up."

Chapter Text

Nick stared at the door in front of him with some serious misgivings.

Charlie was on the other side of that door. So, presumably, were Tao, Elle, Jarvis, and Friday. Part of Nick really wanted to be on the other side of that door with them. Another part, a louder part, was ready to do an about-face and retreat to the safety of his car.

Ironically, his nerves had nothing to do with the deadly virus that had been ravaging the land for nearly a year now. Charlie had sent Nick a photo of three negative COVID tests that afternoon, along with his address, the meeting time, and a message letting Nick know that masks were optional. Nick had sent a photo of his own negative test in reply, so they were as sure as it was possible to be that the virus wouldn't be a problem.

It wasn't even his "secret" identity that had Nick's insides tied up in knots. Considering Charlie's blasé response to his name yesterday, he was almost positive the man already knew who he was. Maybe he'd figured it out at the dog park on that first day, or maybe Nick had slipped up somewhere, despite his attempts to keep his fame under wraps. Hell, Charlie could have just Googled his name and Nellie's and found some fan's page dedicated to photos of Nick and his adorable dog. God knew there were enough of them.

No. What had reawakened the dreaded butterflies in Nick's stomach was the fact that he was finally meeting Charlie face-to-face again. They'd been talking from a distance for so long. It was impossible to know what kinds of expectations Charlie might have. Nick had met enough fans over the years to know that it was often impossible to balance his reality on the imaginary pedestals they'd built up for him. What if Nick couldn't live up to whatever image Charlie had constructed in his head?

Also, it was one thing to know that Nick was famous, and quite another thing to be confronted with the reality of that fame in person. Even if Charlie thought he was okay with the general concept of Nick-the-famous-guy, that didn't mean he understood the pressure of living in the spotlight, the constant daily hounding of fans and photographers, and the fact that no matter how hard Nick tried, his life would never be what most people considered normal.

Case in point, despite slate-grey skies and puddles dotting the sidewalks, Nick was currently wearing the same get-up he'd had on at the dog park that first day–a ballcap, sun glasses, and a mask–all to avoid paparazzi detection as he made his way to Charlie's house.

Nick sighed.

Selfishly, he wanted to be near Charlie. Realistically, he knew he would be bringing chaos in his wake. Nick's life was anything but normal, and wasn't normal what Charlie needed right now? A sense of stability and certainty?

Still, he rationalised, wasn't it Charlie's place to decide what he needed? Would it be fair to Charlie not to give him that choice?

Nick shook his head in frustration. There were so many reasons this was a bad idea, so many ways it could go terribly wrong, and if he let himself go through the list again, he would never make it inside.

He glanced down at Nellie and saw her tail wagging happily as she sniffed at the welcome mat. He supposed it wouldn't be fair to Nellie, either, to deprive her of a chance to see Jarivs and Friday again after coming all this way.

Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell.

On the other side of the door, he heard the muffled sounds of an electronic chime followed by a happy chorus of barks and paws scrabbling against hardwood. A voice that was probably Charlie's yelled, "Coming!" and Nick's heart clenched inside his chest.

He felt a sudden flood of panic rise.

What if he totally botched this?

What if Charlie was mad that he'd waited so long to tell him who he was?

What if Charlie never wanted to talk to him again?

That last thought had him half turned towards the car park when the door swung open, and Nick was suddenly inundated with a writhing mass of enthusiastic dogs. The doorway was so full of lolling tongues, wiggling bodies, and wagging tails that, for a few seconds, Nick couldn't see Charlie at all. When he finally did see him, Nick's heart clenched all over again, because Charlie was laughing, cheeks pink and eyes bright as he grabbed his dogs' collars, trying to wrangle them into some semblance of order.

"Hey, come in, come in," Charlie said, pulling Jarvis and Friday back far enough that Nick and Nellie could slip through the door. As Nick turned to close it behind himself, he also tugged off his hat, mask, and shades.

"Hey Nellie!" Charlie greeted, as Friday strained forward to sniff her. "Hi Nick," he added warmly, and glanced up at Nick's face.

Their gazes met, and Charlie froze, his eyes wide and mouth halfway open in a pretty decent impression of a startled blowfish.

The dogs apparently didn't sense the sudden tension in the air, because Jarvis eagerly lunged forward, yanking Charlie with him. Charlie stumbled, unbalanced by the hundred plus pounds of enthusiastic canine, and staggered face-first into Nick's chest. Nick reached out automatically to steady him, but with an undignified squawk, Charlie scrambled upright.

He gaped. "You're...You're Nick Nelson."

"Yeah," Nick agreed, trying to hide his confusion. "I told you that yesterday?"

"The Nick Nelson," Charlie emphasised.

Nick blinked. "The 'the' isn't actually part of my name."

"Right, but…" Charlie gaped at him, the stunned blowfish expression heightened as his mouth bobbed open and closed a few times. "I just…I thought you were a Nick Nelson, not the Nick Nelson."

"A Nick Nelson?" Nick asked, caught somewhere between amused and horrified. He had imagined all sorts of ways this meeting might go, but Charlie wasn't following any of the scripts he'd prepared for.

"Yeah, you know. Like, I know two different blokes named Michael Jordan who have never played a day of basketball in their lives. And there's a sweet little old lady down the street from my parents' place in Kent called Julia Roberts. Nelson isn't a particularly rare last name, so I just…" Charlie huffed out a little breath and rubbed his fingers sheepishly through the hair at the nape of his neck. He looked uncomfortable, Nick realised, feeling a twist of guilt deep in his gut. "I thought it was a coincidence?"

Nick closed his eyes. It was too much. He was too much. Too much to spring on someone who had already had their whole world upended in the last few months. And it was too much to expect Charlie to want to deal with another layer of insanity in his already unstable life. He should have known better.

"I'm so sorry," Nick said, swallowing thickly. "I should go." He could hear the defeat in his own voice as he took a step backwards and half-turned towards the door.

"Don't you dare!" Charlie ordered, reaching out to grab his wrist. Nick froze at the contact, and Charlie's eyes went comically wide. He threw both hands up, palms forward in a gesture of surrender. "No, wait. That came out wrong. Misery-level-stalker wrong. God. No. Of course you can leave any time you'd like. I just…I hope that you won't? Not on my account, anyways."

Nick shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as he peered at Charlie, trying to decipher what the man was thinking. Even with the stunned-blowfish expression, he was unnervingly attractive. "Are you sure?" Nick finally asked. "I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Jesus," Charlie's cheeks flushed red, and he muttered, low enough that Nick was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear it, "Uncomfortable position? If only…" Then he glanced up and caught sight of Nick's raised eyebrows and went even redder. "Listen," Charlie started, then stopped, closed his eyes, and took a centering breath. After a long moment, he opened his eyes again and refocused on Nick. "You have clearly known who you are your whole life, but I have only just gained access to this information, and I think it's going to take me a few minutes to actually process it…"

"That's fair," Nick agreed. "I…I tried to tell you yesterday. And I've wanted to tell you for a while."

"So why didn't you?" Charlie asked, his voice unnaturally high, just shy of hysterical.

Nick gave a helpless little shrug. "There were always other things that just seemed more important."

"What could possibly be more important than your identity?"

"You!" Nick said in a rush, "Your sister. Your health…I mean, a lot of it was selfish, too. I loved talking to you, and I was worried that if you knew who I was, you'd change. Most people won't talk to me like you did, and I didn't want to lose that…lose you."

"What, you thought I might be upset to find out that I'd confessed my deepest secrets to the object of my teenage wank fantasies?" Charlie asked, then inhaled sharply. "Oh shit, I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Nick gave a weak half-smile and asked with an attempt at levity, "Only your teenage wank fantasies?"

"God, you are impossible," Charlie moaned, covering his flaming face with both hands, then peering out through his fingers at Nick. "How are you even real? You played Superman."

"I did," Nick agreed tentatively.

"And Lieutenant Jameson, and Romeo, and Buzz Lightyear…"

"Yes?" Nick hedged, not entirely sure he wanted to take credit for that last one. The live action remake of Toy Story had been an absolute disaster.

"And you're going to play Gambit in Marvel's Excalibur: The Blade is Forged."

Nick nodded.

"And now you're standing in my entryway waiting to play inappropriately themed board games with me and my ragtag group of nerdy friends."

Nick shrugged again, trying not to look as tense as he felt. "If you'll have me?"

"Yeah. Yes. Of course." Charlie tugged Jarvis back a few feet so Nick and Nellie could move further into the flat. "I just...I think I probably need to reevaluate some of the assumptions I made about the direction this relationship is heading."

"What assumptions?" Nick asked, his heart suddenly in his throat, though he fought to keep his face carefully blank. Inconveniently, the butterflies rampaging around his midsection seemed to have doubled in size. It was very hard to act cool and collected with a rogue swarm of mutant insects careening about his insides. Good thing Nick was a professional.

Charlie let go of Friday's collar to wave a dismissive hand a little frantically. "Nothing. Nothing!"

Nick unsnapped Nellie's leash, and watched the three dogs bound happily away together, paws skittering and tails wagging.

"Charlie?" a male voice called from inside the apartment. "Is that your phone boyfriend? Tell him to come in. I want to meet him."

Charlie turned an even deeper shade of red and muttered, "He always forgets that I know where he sleeps," in a murderous whisper, then glanced up at Nick and swallowed hard.

"Boyfriend?" Nick asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Sorry," Charlie said quickly. "Tao's an idiot. You can ignore him."

Nick hesitated for just a second before he remembered Imogen's pep talk.

Be honest, she'd said. Be sincere. Be vulnerable.

Right, he told himself, I can do this.

Nick reached out a hand and snagged the trailing end of Charlie's oversized hoodie sleeve as he turned away, tugging it gently until Charlie spun back and met his gaze. "I really hope he was talking about me."

Charlie's cheeks were still impossibly red, but his smile was even brighter when he said, "Yeah, I think he was."

"You've seriously never played Pandemic before?" Tao demanded. "You're not just taking the piss?"

Nick wasn't sure which bothered Charlie's roommate more, the fact that he'd covered up his identity, or the fact that he was officially part of the MCU. Either way, he'd just muttered "Oh god, really?" as Nick walked into the living room behind Charlie, and promptly received an elbow to the side from his girlfriend, Elle.

For her part, Elle had been lovely and welcoming. Her eyes had gone a little wide at her first sight of Nick, but she recovered quickly and gave him a genuine smile as Charlie offered to grab him a drink.

"First time," Nick replied, slightly amused by Tao's prickliness and trying not to show it. "So what are the rules, then?"

Tao eyed Nick suspiciously, but he explained the rules, and before Nick knew it, he was treating a blue outbreak in Essen while Charlie flew Elle to São Paulo to contain the yellow infection there. When they finally eradicated the last of the red cubes from Bangkok, Tao leaned back in his chair, stuck both hands up in the air, and declared: "Victory!"

Nick found himself grinning as a little thread of fondness unspooled in his chest.

"If only it was that easy to get rid of viruses in real life," Elle said with a sigh.

"Right?" Charlie agreed, standing up and stretching. "Should I put a pizza in the oven before we start the next game?"

"Yes!" Tao said. "Make two. I'm starving."

Nick pushed himself away from the table and followed Charlie into the flat's small kitchen. "Need any help?" he asked, mostly as an excuse to stay close.

Charlie smiled over his shoulder as he opened the freezer door and pulled out two large Chicago Town boxes. "Not really. Frozen pizza isn't exactly labour-intensive to prepare."

"How about if I just keep you company, then?" Nick asked hopefully.

"Yeah, alright," Charlie agreed, chuckling as he squeezed past Nick to get to the oven.

Nick felt the heat of Charlie's body and the reverberation of his laughter as he pressed by. The physical sensations jolted a sudden awareness through him, like a fuzzy image in a camera's viewfinder snapping into sharp focus.

Charlie was here. He was real. He was dynamic and alive, and so much more than just a disembodied voice or a photo or a string of letters on a screen. And yet, he was all of those things too, all of their late night whispers and furtive texts, their shared secrets and inside jokes. He was, Nick realised with a startled, indrawn breath, everything Nick had ever wanted. And in that breath, too, Nick found a new dimension as Charlie's soap-and-spiced-tea scent flooded his lungs.

Nick's heart hammered painfully against his ribs, brimming with delight at this new-found tangibility, at the fact that Charlie was present, within reach. All it would take was two steps forward, and Nick could run his hand through those unruly curls, could hook his fingers through Charlie’s belt loops, could pull him in and…

Nick exhaled shakily, grasped at the tattered shreds of his self control, and took a step backwards instead.

Apparently oblivious to the effect he was having, Charlie glanced over the pizza's instructions, then programmed the oven to preheat and set the pizza boxes aside. Then he turned back to face Nick, leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

"You're real, right?" Charlie asked, echoing Nick's own thoughts of a moment before. "You're really here? I'm not just dreaming this?"

"I'm really here," Nick confirmed.

Charlie shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't put the pieces together and figure out who you were. I've watched all your movies," he admitted quietly, like a confession. "I should have recognized your voice. I keep trying to tell you that I'm an idiot. Maybe this will finally prove my point."

"Char," Nick said, giving in to the urge to step forward and take Charlie's hand in his. Charlie blinked up at him, dimples slowly taking shape around his uncertain smile as Nick laced their fingers together. "I'm the one who's been an idiot. I should have told you who I was. I am really sorry I didn't say anything earlier."

"I don't know…" Charlie tipped his head back, blinking up at the ceiling, and Nick stared helplessly as the motion exposed the long column of Charlie's throat. "I'm kind of glad you didn't? I mean, I don’t really love the fact that you left something that big out, but I think I get why you did it. It let me get to know you as you without your public image there to skew everything." His fingers tightened on Nick's as he brought his chin back down and locked eyes with Nick. "You'd better not keep secrets like that again, though. That was a one time thing."

"Right," Nick agreed. "No more secrets…" He looked down at their twined fingers, then back up to Charlie’s face. "So I guess that means I should tell you how much I really want to kiss you right now."

Charlie sucked in a breath, his finger's spasming around Nicks.

"I want to kiss you," Nick said again, "but I don't know if I should. My life is messy. It's complicated, and that's probably not going to change. I don't know if me being in your life would be good for you right now, but I want to be.” He swallowed and clarified. “In your life and good for you. I want to be both."

Charlie just stared at Nick for a long, silent moment, his grip on Nick's hand almost painful. Nick searched his face for any clue as to what he was thinking, but his gaze caught on Charlie’s eyes and he got lost.

"You were right," Charlie said after a beat.

Nick felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion. "About what?"

"We're both idiots," Charlie declared, his lips quirking up in a small smile. "Life is supposed to be messy, Nick. And I wouldn't mind a few complications if you're involved. I think you may be the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The grin on Nick's face was so wide his cheeks hurt. Charlie glanced down at their joined hands, then used them to tug Nick forwards until they were pressed together.

"As for that other thing you mentioned," Charlie murmured low, tucking his face into the crook of Nick’s neck so his lips dragged across Nick's skin, "I'd really like you to kiss me now."

Nick was more than happy to oblige. He slipped one hand around Charie's waist and pulled him in even closer, then cupped Charlie's nape with the other, urging his chin up until their lips met. Charlie looped his arms around Nick's shoulders and held on, deepening the kiss, making it count. When they pulled apart, they were both breathless and beaming, and the bubble of happiness in Nick's chest was so full he thought it might burst.

"God, you're wonderful," Charlie said, leaning forward to plant another kiss on Nick's lips. "I kept wondering, you know. What you looked like. But you were so shy. I didn't want to press." Then he snorted out a laugh. "Tao had a theory that you were an undercover agent, and that's why you didn't want to show your face."

Nick barked out a startled laugh. "What, he thought I was part of the SIS?"

Charlie tucked his chin down in an adorable little giggle, and Nick clutched at his hips as a pulse of desperate fondness rolled through him at the adorable sound, at the feel of Charlie real and solid in his arms.

"I mean, he wasn't that far off. You played that double agent in one of the Bond films a few years ago, right?"

"Yeah," Nick acknowledged, running his fingers through Charlie's curls, marvelling at their springy softness. "But, just to be sure, you know I'm not actually the characters I play, right?"

"I know," Charlie leaned forward and kissed him again. "You're so much better."

When Tao wandered into the kitchen thirty minutes later, he was horrified to discover they'd completely forgotten about the pizzas.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Charlie asked, an anxious hitch in his voice as their limo inched closer to the front of the queue.

"Yes," Nick said, reaching out to take Charlie's hand and lacing their fingers together.

"I can still stay in the car." Charlie offered. "You could just go with Imogen instead."

"Screw that," Imogen said. "I am snagging myself a Hemsworth tonight."

Nick ignored her in favour of locking eyes with his boyfriend. "Charlie, I'm here with you. I want to be here with you. I told you we'd see the latest Marvel film together, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but I didn't realise at the time that there would be a red carpet involved."

Nick squeezed Charlie's fingers. "Is it too much?" He asked. "Because we can just go home."

"You mean I can go home," Charlie corrected him. "You have to stay. It's the premier of your film."

Nick shook his head. "No. We can go home. Or back to the hotel at least. It might be a bit much to book a flight back to London right now. But if you don't want to do this, then I'll head back to the hotel with you. Tara and Darcy will understand."

Charlie looked horrified. "Tara and Darcy will kill us both."

"They can try, but I'm basically a ninja," Nick reminded him. "I'll protect you."

"My hero!" Charlie intoned, faking a swoon. Then he pushed himself back upright and shook his head. "No. No, you have to go." Then he took a deep breath and said, "We have to go."

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Nick insisted as their limo pulled another car-length closer to the swarms of stars and journalists and screaming fans.

"Are you sure I won't be a complete embarrassment?" Charlie asked in a small voice.

"If you walk down that red carpet with me, it will be the proudest moment of my life." Nick said with absolute sincerity.

"You look hot," Imogen chimed in. "Nicky's lucky to have you."

Charlie gave her a grateful smile, then let out another worried sigh. "You know the tabloids are going to have a field day with this, right?" he said.

It was true, Nick knew. They'd managed to keep their relationship under the radar for the most part, avoiding the public eye while Charlie gained ground in his recovery and they both got to know each other better. After six months together, though, they'd finally decided that they were ready to take the next step and go public with their relationship. Since Nick wasn't even out, yet, the story was likely to send shockwaves through the entertainment world. Thankfully, Tara and Darcy were magic, and had arranged a way for them to control at least part of the narrative.

Nick shrugged. "The tabloids will be a bit late to the party since GQ published our interview this morning."

"You both rocked those suits, by the way," Imogen waggled her eyebrows. "I wouldn't have picked pink for you, Nicky, but it looked damned good. And that paisley ensemble…" she bit her lower lip and raised one eyebrow at Charlie. "Spicy."

"He's mine," Nick declared, slinging an arm around Charlie's waist and pulling him in close. "Find your own boy."

"I'm trying, Nicky. I'm trying," Imogen sing-songed, readjusting the absolutely stunning neckline of her gown.

"I wish the dogs were here," Charlie said. "I think Friday would enjoy all the excitement."

Nick grinned at the thought. "Can you imagine? She'd trip all the actors, get tangled in the camera wires, and steal all the microphones. There’d be a riot in two seconds flat." He considered that for a second. "Let's bring her next time."

"Deal," Charlie nodded decisively. "She can be my emotional support riot."

"Last chance to head back to the hotel," Nick offered as their limo finally pulled up in front of the red carpet.

"No," Charlie said, squaring his shoulders. "Let's do this."

Nick leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, then he opened the limo door and they both stepped out into the glittering sea flashes hand in hand.

Chapter Text

The door clicked closed and Charlie stared at it, unblinking.

“Charlie,” Elle’s voice prompted from somewhere behind him.

“Yeah,” Charlie replied, unable to drag his eyes away from the now-empty entryway.

“Charlie,” Elle prompted again, and Charlie felt her lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and give it a little squeeze.

“Yeah,” he repeated. He was vaguely aware that he was probably experiencing some sort of shock. Friday bumped her head against his thigh, and let out a concerned whine.

“That was Nick Nelson,” Elle said in a strangely flat tone.

“Yeah,” Charlie echoed. His brain had apparently shorted out, taking a majority of his vocabulary with it. He couldn’t blame the poor thing. Most of his processing power was tangling itself up in knots over the fact that Nick Nelson had been in his apartment. Nick Nelson had played board games with him. Nicholas fucking Nelson had kissed him. Thoroughly. In his kitchen next to a sadly forgotten, slowly defrosting Chicago Town pizza. And it had been absolutely amazing.

“Did you know who he was before he came over?” Tao asked.

“Yeah.” Charlie said one more time, then finally blinked and shook his head in an effort to regain basic functionality. “I mean, no. He told me his full name yesterday, but I didn’t realise it was actually him.”

Tao gaped. “You’ve been talking to him for months, Charlie! How could you not know?”

Charlie buried his face in his hands. “He was just so…so normal! How was I supposed to know?”

Tao regarded him critically through narrowed eyes. “Right. Your title as the brains of our Zombie Apocalypse Team is hereby revoked.”

“Hey, you texted with him, too,” Charlie reminded him.

“Does it even matter?” Elle demanded. “That was unreal. We just played Codenames with a celebrity.”

“And he was utter rubbish!” Tao grinned. “We beat him five times in a row.” He gave Elle an enthusiastic high five.

“Hey, watch it!” Charlie protested, “I was on the losing team, too. It’s not that we were rubbish. It’s that you two are scary good.”

“True,” Tao allowed, and he and Elle shared a victorious grin.

Then Charlie felt his wry smile slip a little and he turned to glance at the closed door one more time. “Did that…Did that really just happen?”

“Uh, yeah.” Tao raised an amused eyebrow. “Unless we just suffered some sort of shared mass hallucination, I’m pretty sure you just snogged Buzz Lightyear.”

“Shut up,” Charlie crossed his arms. “That was a terrible movie. Nick hated it, too.” And how weird was it that he knew that about a film’s lead actor? That the Nick he’d been texting and calling for months now was actually the star he’d seen in countless shows? His brain was still stumbling around the idea like a drunk staggering out of a bar, unable to bring anything fully into focus. “Urgghh,” he groaned. “This is so weird.”

“This is insane,” Elle agreed. “You’re dating Nick Nelson.”

“Wait, are you guys actually dating?” Tao demanded, his expression suddenly serious.

“Of course they are,” Elle insisted. “You heard Nick ask to see him again on Monday. You walked in on them kissing! Twice!”

Charlie winced as Tao’s face went even more stony. “Yeah, but there’s a huge difference between snogging and dating. Snogging is fun. Dating is complicated. And it’s going to be even more complicated because of…uh…everything.”

Charlie shrugged a little helplessly. “I…” he started, then stalled out. Were they dating? Nick had invited him and the dogs over to his place to watch the newest season of Ted Lasso on Monday, and had insisted they should stage a Codenames rematch against Tao and Elle sometime in the nebulous future to reclaim their lost honour. But was that dating? Did Charlie want it to be?

The sudden swell of warmth in his chest at just the possibility made that last question easy enough to answer.

Charlie definitely wanted to date Nick.

But Tao was right, too. It wasn’t going to be easy, because of…everything. Nick described his own life as complicated. Considering his level of fame, they were unlikely to be able to fly under the radar for long, and, as far as Charlie knew, Nick wasn’t even out yet. If he did come out, however that might happen, there was sure to be a lot of press, and a lot of pressure on Nick and whoever he was with.

Charlie wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to withstand that level of scrutiny. He’d just left the hospital, and though he was feeling a lot more stable, he knew himself well enough to be wary of the possible fallout.

His stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought.

This could all go so incredibly sideways.

Then Charlie remembered the earnest look in Nick’s eyes as he’d laced their fingers together in the kitchen, the way he’d clutched at Charlie’s hips and drawn him in close, the feel of his knee pressing between Charlie’s thighs, his arms bracketing Charlie’s waist, and…God. Charlie might not be sure of much, but he knew he’d absolutely kick himself if he didn’t at least give this a try.

Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but before he could articulate any of his racing thoughts, there was a hesitant knock behind him. Jarvis and Friday erupted into frantic barking as they flung themselves past his legs at the door.

Charlie grabbed their collars and hauled them back far enough that Tao and Elle could grab a dog each, then he swung open the door.

“Hi,” Nick said, his cheeks pink and his lips tugged up in a rueful half-smile.

“Hi,” Charlie replied, smiling in return as the uncertainty roiling in his gut was washed away by a wave of giddy exuberance at the sight of Nick just standing there, looking a bit flustered. “You’re back! Come on in.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Tao and Elle shepherding his dogs into the living room.

Nick stepped inside, Nellie at his heels, and closed the door behind him.

“Sorry,” he said, fiddling with Nellie’s leash. “I know I just left, but I sort of forgot my mask and stuff. And with the paparazzi out…” He trailed off, eyes darting to Charlie’s lips, and Charlie had a sudden, visceral memory from a few minutes ago, of Nick crowding him up against the door just before he left, dragging his fingers through Charlie’s curls, trailing kisses up his neck and across his jaw until their lips met and…yeah. Maybe it wasn’t that surprising that Nick had forgotten to gather his things.

Charlie coughed, turning his head to hide the blush kindling in his cheeks. “Right,” he said, voice just a hint unsteady. He glanced around and spotted the little pile of Nick’s belongings in easy reach. “Here they are.”

“Thanks,” Nick let his fingers linger against Charlie’s as he accepted his stuff. “I guess I’ll get going, then.”

“Alright,” Charlie nodded. Then, before he could think better of it, he reached out and snagged Nick’s wrist. “Actually, wait.”

Nick raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Charlie swallowed. His fingers squeezed convulsively around Nick’s arm.

“What is it?” Nick asked, his eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Are we actually dating?” Charlie blurted out, then felt the embers in his cheeks erupt into a raging inferno as Nick’s expression turned to one of confusion.

Shit, Charlie thought, his confidence toppling faster than a teetering tower of cards. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? It was obviously too early to ask that question. They’d literally just met. And regardless, wasn’t it better to have the aching possibility of happiness than the cold certainty of regret? It was a lesson he should have learned years ago in the classics section of his high school library with Ben’s spit still slick on his lips and Ben’s rejection ringing loud in his ears. Charlie could feel his heart clench hard and heavy, a lead ball of self-loathing lodged in his ribcage.

“I mean,” Charlie said now, trying to fill the air with syllables to distract from his complete inability to be a normal human person, “It’s fine if we’re not. We don’t have to like, define anything, or put labels on stuff, or whatever. And I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, if you just want to hang out or be friends or–”

“Char,” Nick said, dropping Nellie’s leash and his things to the floor so he could step forward and cup Charlie’s face in both of his hands. “Of course we are. Did you miss the part where I asked you out again on Monday? Or,” he leaned forward and pressed their lips together, then pulled back to add, “The fact I can’t stop kissing you?”

Charlie let out a watery little chuckle. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I just…” Charlie forced a breath through his still-constricted throat. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“We’re dating,” Nick said firmly, then his eyebrows furrowed again, and he pulled back, dropping his hands to his sides. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No!” Charlie shook his head as he reached forward and took both Nick’s hands in his. “I mean yes! I do want to. We’re dating. We’re definitely dating.”

“Good,” Nick said, his smile returning. “That’s great.”

“Great,” Charlie echoed, his heart suddenly light enough to float on the waves of renewed warmth radiating through his chest.

Nick's expression sobered a little as he met Charlie’s eyes. “Listen, I can’t promise that this will be easy,” he spoke slowly like he was picking each word with great care. “A lot of my life is lived in the public eye, and the press and public opinion can be difficult to deal with. I’d hate it if you were hurt by any of that. If we stay together long term…” Nick’s fingers squeezed Charlie’s, and Charlie thought he heard a hint of longing in his voice, “It’s something we’ll probably have to deal with eventually. But if we’re careful, we can keep this,” he squeezed Charlie’s hands again, “Under wraps and take things at our own pace.”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah. I think, considering everything, that’d be best. At least for a little while.”

“Do you mind if I tell a few of my friends that I met you, though?” Nick asked.

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds like something I should be asking you, except you’ve already met Tao and Elle. Why would your friends care that you met me? I’m not famous.”

It was Nick’s turn to blush, his freckles lost in the flood of red. “I may have mentioned you to them once or twice over the last few months.”

“Really?” Charlie marvelled.

“Uh,” Nick’s blush deepened. Charlie watched in fascination as the tips of his ears went incandescent. It was absolutely adorable. “More like a thousand times?” He admitted sheepishly.

Charlie gave a startled bark of laughter “Why?”

“Because I think about you all the time, Charlie,” Nick said. “I’ve been pining from afar and my friends are nothing if not drama-loving busybodies.”

“Oh, he thinks he’s been pining…” Tao muttered from somewhere in the living room. Elle shushed him.

Charlie decided, for the sake of his remaining sanity, to ignore them both.

“So your friends will be excited to know you met me,” he asked, still a bit incredulous.

“Yeah,” Nick replied. “And they’ll be dying to meet you, too. Not that you have to. They’re…well. They’re wonderful, but they’re a handful.”

Charlie contemplated that for a second. “Right. Sure, go ahead and tell them. And let them know I’m looking forward to meeting them, too. Who are they, by the way?”

“Well, there’s Tara and Darcy. I must have mentioned them to you.”

Charlie nodded. They’d come up in several of Nick’s stories.

“I’ve known them since primary school. Tara’s one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet, and Darcy’s absolutely unhinged, but she’s also a creative genius. They’re dating, and they’re my agents. And then there’s Imogen…”

“Wait, Imogen Heaney?” Charlie demanded.

“The Imogen Heaney?” Tao gasped at the same time from the living room. Elle shushed him again.

Nick shot a rueful glance at the wall dividing the entryway from the living room and said, loud enough for Tao to hear clearly, “The ‘the’ isn’t part of her name either, you know.”

“Hold on,” Charlie said, his eyes wide. “I’m having a moment. Imogen Heaney knows I exist.”

“Imogen Heaney will probably murder me with a rusty oyster shucker if I don’t introduce the two of you in the near future. She’s possibly more invested in this relationship than we are.”

Charlie’s eyes went even wider. “How is this my life?”

“Bad taste in men?” Nick hazarded, and Charlie rolled his eyes. “So do you mind if I tell them a bit about you? About us?”

“A bit more than they already know, you mean?”

“Well, yeah,” Nick allowed, then added, “Oh, and I’d like to tell my mum, too, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” Charlie’s voice was soft.

“Is there anyone you want to tell?” Nick prompted.

Charlie glanced at the wall beside them. “Tao and Elle already know, obviously, but I swear they won’t tell anyone. They may be terrible cheaters at Catan…”

“Oi!” Tao protested, then yelped. Elle had probably elbowed him somewhere sensitive.

“But other than that, they’re trustworthy,” Charlie continued. “They won’t tell anyone about you, I promise. I know you’re not out.”

“I’m out to my friends,” Nick replied. “And I want to come out to the public someday, too.” He hesitated, and Charlie got the sense that he was weighing his words. “Someday soon, I think. There’s never really been a compelling reason to, before. But I think there might be one now.”

Charlie hadn’t thought he could feel any happier, but those words somehow proved him wrong.

“Really, Charlie,” Nick insisted. “You should tell whoever you’d like. I mean, obviously it’d be a bit of a shame if you went and sold your story to The Sun, but, like friends and family and stuff…”

“I’d like to tell my friend Isaac,” Charlie offered.

“Your zombie apocalypse communications guy?”

Charlie blinked. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” Nick said, then continued in a faux-deep, announcer’s voice, “It’s important to know everyone’s roles in case of an emergency situation.”

“It is,” Charlie agreed seriously . “Otherwise the zombies will eat your brains.”

Nick laughed.

“And Tori,” Charlie said after a bit of a pause. “I’d like to tell her, too.”

“Your sister?”

Charlie nodded.

Nick smiled. “Yeah, that’d be good. You guys seem close.”

“We are.” Charlie smirked, and echoed Nick’s words back to him. “She’s wonderful, but she’s a handful.”

“All the best people are.” Nick grinned, then let out a slow breath. “I guess I should get going.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed reluctantly. He squatted down in front of Nellie and ruffled her ears. “You’re such a good girl,” he told her as she leaned into the caress. “So patient. My dogs could really stand to learn a thing or two from you.”

“Clearly they’ll all have to hang out again soon,” Nick suggested. “For their own good, of course.”

“Of course,” Charlie agreed, scooping Nick’s dropped belongings off the ground.

When he straightened back up, Nick was smiling at him fondly. “I know I’m supposed to be leaving, but I really want to kiss you again.”

“Hmm,” Charlie tilted his head and plastered a thoughtful look on his face. “Alright,” he said after a beat. “I’ll allow it.”

“Thank God,” Nick said and wrapped his arms around Charlie, tugging him in close. As their lips met, Charlie’s heart, already full to bursting with happiness, somehow managed to expand just a little bit more.