Chapter Text
Nick never knew how to do this on his own. Last year, when he went as Charlie’s +1 to a wedding of some cousin, he needed his help to push the cufflinks in place and secure them. This time, he stubbornly fiddles with them all the same in what has so far been a futile attempt at securing them in place. His fingers are so broad and the little locking mechanism is so small and fiddly. Nonetheless, he’s determined to succeed without help.
Just like how he was determined to succeed in learning to make a proper knot with a tie on his own, and how he learned to shave without any guidance. Nicks and blood be damned. It had taken time and it had taken effort, but Nick Nelson had become a self-sufficient adult with minimal guidance from a paternal figure.
“Fuck!”
But even grown adults have their struggles. After swearing to himself for the umpteenth time as the little knobs with tiny pugs on them slip out of place instead of being secured in place thanks to the slickness of his thumbs. He is this close to just chucking them on the floor in frustration and going without by the time his partner comes floating into their dingy bedroom, lit only by a tiny gap between the blackout curtains. Charlie is already all suited up in navy blue, curls tamed to the best of his ability, dress socks visible courtesy of only his loafers being missing from the attire. Deft fingers clasp hold of Nick’s sleeves and effortlessly clicks the first, then the second cufflink into place as if it is the easiest task in the world.
Gratitude comes in the form of a sheepish smile, then a kiss on the forehead, before Nick rubs his wrists to make sure the cuffs are fitted correctly. Impeccable work, as always , he thinks before audibly thanking his fiancé for helping him.
“You do the same for me,” Charlie replies with a smile. His dimples protrude, but less so than he would during more joyous occasions. “Remember the piece of jewellery that I couldn’t fasten around my neck?”
That, Nick does. Charlie had struggled for 15 minutes before huffing and relinquishing to Nick’s offer of helping. Not that it had been effortless for him either—it had taken him a solid dozen tries before the metal clasp finally cooperated and the silver chain with the arabesque pendant hung perilously around Charlie’s neck. It had been an acquisition from Mojácar, when they had gone housesitting for Charlie’s abuelo alongside Olly and his then-boyfriend. Fond memories of the trip still lingered, both in his head and in the form of photographs displayed around the lounge in their flat. Not having to pay for accommodation was a major plus and made it even more memorable, despite the fact that the circumstances surrounding it had been tragic.
Not that he wants to think about that now. Nick knows he’s going to be forced to think about death more than he cares for the rest of this day, so if he can distract himself, he will gladly do so.
A distraction comes padding into the bedroom in the form of their year-old golden retriever, Daisy. With both of her dads being in the same room, she naturally gravitates towards where they are located. Tail swishing back and forth in a lazy wag, she trots over to Nick and brushes against his leg in a coy attempt at attracting his attention. And who is he to say no?
Nick bundles her fur between his fingers and whispers sweet little nothings as she settles between his legs and desperately laps at his face with her tongue where he’s bent over. Deep in his mind, he knows he shouldn’t compare pets. Nevertheless, he can’t help but think that his childhood dog Nellie had spoiled him in terms of thinking dogs were empathetic creatures.
When compared to Nellie, who seemed to be innately attuned to his emotions and could tell whenever he was in distress, Daisy is an oblivious dolt. She always acts like it is playtime or insists on jumping onto him when he sits down while exhausted. Bless her, because sometimes it does appear like she is in possession of some sort of awareness, because she will occasionally waddle over to him with a toy in her mouth and place it in his lap while staring expectantly at him with her puppy dog eyes when he’s sad.
Today, however, he is grateful for her unbridled, if thoughtless, enthusiasm.
“Are you ready, love?”
Charlie’s voice rings out past Daisy’s excited huffs and the thumping of her tail against the floor and legs of the bed. He stands in the doorway, adjusting his suit jacket, with a bemused smile on his face.
With one last pet for their brainless but affectionate glutton of a dog, Nick rises with a groan. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
When they’re putting their shoes on in the entryway, accompanied by Daisy sticking her snout in anything and everything she can reach, Charlie once again turns to him and braces against his shoulders with his palms. The hard texture of all the rings on his fingers push against the blue shirt as Charlie runs his thumb in soothing waves across his clavicle.
“Remember. You don’t have to stay strong for Sarah. It’s okay to feel sad too.”
Nick nods and bends down to give him a chaste peck on the lips. “I know. It’s weird. I still don’t quite know what I’m feeling. It doesn’t feel real.”
As they hug, as they have done since they were teenagers, Charlie whispers little reassurances to Nick and fusses with the short hairs of his neck.
“Let’s go,” Nick says and clears his voice. He opens the door, to be greeted by clear blue skies and the relentless sun of early May with no promise of letting up anytime soon.
He struggles to decide whether this is better or worse than heavy rainfall. But for purely practical reasons, maybe it’s better. It’s what he would have wanted, anyway.
“Boys, I have something to tell you.”
Last time Nick had heard mum say this, it precipitated their dad not returning from a business trip. So he really couldn’t help the clench in his stomach where he sat, feet dangling off the chair, spoon scooping up colourful bits of cereal bobbing around in the bowl in front of him. His gaze momentarily flicked over to David where he sat, scarfing down a ham and cheese sandwich. David dropped the bread onto the plate and crossed his arms while shooting daggers at their mum.
“What is it now? Dad can’t leave us twice, so it’s not that.”
Ever since dad left them, David had become even more angry than before and didn’t want to play with him anymore. In fact, he was fonder of bothering Nick and shoving him than he ever was spending time together. Before that time, they used to at least play games together on David’s Xbox and sometimes David would even show Nick how to do certain tricks and tips on the DS, as well as, chuck the rugby ball around indoors (until mum caught them anyway). Nick did miss those times.
“David, please,” is all their mum said in response to the accusation—it was far from the first time she’d heard him say that. It was enough for him to clam up, though he still glared at her.
“There is someone I want you to meet,” she continued, looking between them. “I have known him for some time now, but I wanted to wait for the right time to introduce you.”
Now Nick was curious. Who could mum possibly want them to meet? A family member? Seemed unlikely since there would be no reason to withhold his presence. A friend? Oh gosh, maybe it was a new dog?! Nellie could use a friend!
Neither him nor David said anything, and judging by David’s thoughtful expression, he had no idea who this person might be.
“His name is Fred,” mum said. “We met through work. He’s a kind and funny chap who has been looking forward to meeting you two properly for some time now.”
It was impossible to miss how fondly mum smiled when she talked about this Fred, the way her eyes lit up and she seemed almost distant where she stood. This would be the first time she ever introduced them to one of her colleagues, aside from saying hi to the ladies in the reception whenever he or David came by the office while she was working.
“Are you friends?” Nick asked. In hindsight, it seemed like a silly and banal question, but back then, that was all which was on his seven-year-old mind.
Mum chuckled to herself before saying, “Yes, we are. We’re very good friends. He’s a special man.”
David must’ve inferred the meaning then and there, because he shoved the chair he was sitting on back and bolted out the kitchen, up the stairs without saying a word. Later, he would come to understand the visceral upset his brother had felt in the moment, the fear which came with another male figure being pushed into their lives and how he might have inevitably replaced their absent father. But his mind had yet to be malleable enough to understand these concepts. Nick merely resumed eating cereal and wondering what they would do in PE at school later that day while mum ran after David to salvage the situation.
It didn’t occur until the mysterious Fred would come visit them at the end of that week. Normally, mum would make a fuss about them looking presentable whenever she knew they would have visitors other than nan and grandpa, but this time she had left them be. David was doing… David things in his room, while Nick was playing fetch with Nellie in the garden and making her do the tricks he and mum had worked on together.
When called inside, Nick entered with ruddy knees, dishevelled hair, and mud on his face, only to be greeted by some strange, tall man removing his shoes in the entryway. He had a broad face, a prominent nose, glasses which made him look bug-eyed, and thick red locks with a full beard in a matching shade. Compared to dad, and most men his age, he was quite thin, with the dress shirt stuck into his trousers hanging off his frame.
As mum called for David to come down from his room, the man—Fred, he assumed—came on over and reached his hand over for Nick to shake.
“You must be Nick,” he said, voice deep and booming. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Good things, mostly.” He said the last part with a twinkle in his eyes which the young boy had no idea what to make of. “I’m Fred! It’s great to meet you.”
Gawking at this stranger, Nick managed to squeak out a paltry ‘hi’ and introduced him to Nellie, who was sniffing around him. If Nellie’s reaction was anything to go by, which was to straddle him with her wiggly body while licking at his face, prompting guffaws which filled the entire ground floor, Fred was a good egg. And his mum liked him too! That had to count for something, right?
Unfortunately, David did not share the same opinion on the matter. He barely even shook his hand before blurting out, “So are you supposed to be our new dad? Because we have one already. We don’t need some ginger twat who thinks he can just take his place.”
He’d hissed and squeaked like an angry lemming until Sarah chastised him and let him know that no one would replace their dad, but that she had met someone special and wanted them to meet him too. He did not linger for long after that, snagging a piece of the cake Sarah had baked (and Nick had helped with, mostly by licking the spatula) earlier while retreating to his room.
The takeaway Nick had from the interaction was that there was cake, and that was pretty awesome.
When Nick called him ‘Mister Fred’, he corrected him and told him to just call him Fred, which admittedly felt odd, since he was an adult he barely even knew. And despite what David was blathering about, it did not seem like mum and Fred acted anything like mum and dad had back when they actually liked each other—she was sat with him while Fred sat on the opposite side which is where guests tended to sit. Mum seldom had guests like him over, so the situation felt unfamiliar, but he was far from the worst visitor they’d ever had. They all laughed together about Nellie’s antics and he offered to get him and David ice cream the next time they met.
Obviously, he accepted that offer.
All in all, Nick Nelson’s meeting with Fred Waters must’ve been a success in his mother’s eyes, even if the same could not be said about his brother’s hostile reaction.