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Nick groans as a loud buzzing noise wakes him up. That, and the light streaming in through his… living room window? Why the fuck is he in the living room?
He rolls onto his back, barely avoiding falling right off the sofa, and tries to figure out where the noise is coming from. Nick lets one arm flop off the coach and bats at the floor until his hand comes into contact with his phone and he groans at the effort it takes to pull it back up.
Fuck, he’s hungover. His head is throbbing, and he peers at his phone through half-closed eyes. They fly open when he sees who the message is from, though.
Charlie: heyyyy you’re maybe napping because last night got a bit wild but i just wanted to say that ur the best for being there for me last night <3 and i know i’m a sarcastic bitch usually but i mean that
Charlie: if you need i can bring you a coffee? i know your flat must be a mess right now, caffeine might help?
God, Charlie is so nice. He’s so sweet and thoughtful and lovely and he deserves all the nice things in the world. Nick should be taking him coffee, actually.
Nick will be the first to admit that he is in that fuzzy, tingly stage of crushing on Charlie Spring, and every message is enough to send his heart fluttering right out of his chest at the moment. It’s bad, actually. Charlie is his friend. Or, at least, he thinks Charlie is his friend.
Nick has known Charlie for years, from a distance, though they hadn’t interacted all that much until Nick had the idea to throw their friend Isaac a party. He recently had an offer accepted on a property to open his very own bookshop, and Nick had instantly decided that that needed to be celebrated. His friend Tara had suggested asking Charlie to help, seeing as he knew Isaac best out of the lot of them. Nick was reluctant, to say they least. Yes, he and Charlie shared mutual friends and saw each other often at parties or pub quizzes, but they had never gotten much closer than being acquaintances who said “hi” or shared some small talk over the drinks table.
The thing is, Nick is usually okay with small talk. He had spent a lot of time as a child watching his mother, trying to figure out the right words to say, the right faces to make, the right places to politely laugh at someone’s joke. He’s pretty good at it now, with a lot of practice behind him. What Nick isn’t good at, however, is talking to people who he finds painfully, desperately, heart-stoppingly attractive. And so when he and Charlie do share space, he tries his best to avoid being caught alone with him. When Charlie does talk to him, Nick gets all red-faced and stammer-y and he knows he both looks and sounds like an idiot. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s awkward and weird and that those things are absolutely, categorically not attractive to smooth, cool, gorgeous people like Charlie Spring.
Tara and her partner Darcy know all about his crush, and pushing Nick to work with Charlie on Isaac’s party was absolutely a ploy to get them to talk. Nick had whined and argued that he was useless and pathetic and had pouted until Darcy had flicked him on the forehead and grabbed his chin to make him look them in the eye.
“You are wonderful, Nicholas, and Charlie wants to spend more time with you. I see it every time you talk. He enjoys your interactions, you giant doofus. Do this with him and you’ll see.”
So, Nick had agreed. He had made Tara text Charlie his number so that Charlie had the freedom to not get in touch if he didn’t want to. When he’d received a text not ten minutes later, Nick had nearly thrown his phone out of the window.
Charlie Spring: hi! tara said you had something you wanted to run by me? it’s charlie, btw. charlie spring :) x
And that had been that. They had messaged back and forth a few times, which Nick admittedly found a lot easier than having to talk to Charlie in person. Looking into Charlie’s eyes was like being blinded by the sun, and not being able to see Charlie’s dimples appear every time he smiled made it a lot easier to get through a whole conversation with him. As it turned out, they really did get on. Conversation flowed, both about the party and about their lives, and they were quick to start teasing each other. Nick had gathered pretty quickly that Charlie was a sarcastic little shit and that his favourite form of affection was gentle bullying, and Nick was grateful to be able to match that energy over text.
When Charlie suggested meeting up to make planning easier, Nick had frozen for a moment. He liked what they were building, he liked being able to communicate with Charlie without needing to run away after five minutes because his body was overheating. The thought of having to sit next to Charlie while they planned added a whole new level of anxiety to it all.
But then… well. When is Nick ever going to get a chance as good as this to get to know Charlie a bit better without all of their meddling friends watching? And also, he’s never thrown a party in his life and he definitely needs help. So Nick bucks up and responds to Charlie’s text with a plea for help.
It’s surprisingly easy in the end, being alone with Charlie. It’s much less stressful than it is at parties or surrounded by lots of people and noise, when Nick is already on edge without having to be face to face with the most beautiful human on the planet. Charlie is as easy to get along with in person as he is over text, open and warm and patient. He puts Nick at ease in a way that Nick isn’t at all used to. What starts as half-hour meetings in coffee shops to figure out what Isaac would enjoy the most turn into hours of chatting shit at Nick’s kitchen table. Browsing Amazon for party supplies turns into movie nights squished up on Nick’s sofa and soon enough, Charlie Spring has become a constant in his life.
Sometimes he wonders how he ever got through the day without exchanging a million messages or without hearing that glorious giggle. He hopes he never has to go without those things again.
A new wave of nausea rushes through him as he thinks of a life without Charlie Spring. Will Charlie ever want to hang out with him again now that the party is over? Will they still be friends now that they have no solid reason to meet up regularly? Charlie’s behaviour towards him didn’t suggest he would cut Nick out, but then Nick has never been great at reading people.
He thinks back on the night before, trying to remember enough to piece together any clues that Charlie might want rid of him now.
~~~
“You two were looking very cosy earlier,” Darcy says, nodding towards where Charlie is chatting with someone that Nick doesn’t recognise in the kitchen.
Nick rolls his eyes. “And?”
“And… maybe I was right? About him not thinking you’re a pathetic loser?”
Nick huffs, his eyes still firmly on Charlie. He looks uncomfortable, hunched in on himself with his arms folded across his stomach. Nick knows that Charlie can absolutely handle himself, but he still wants to keep him in sight. Just in case.
“Hmm,” he answers Darcy distractedly, and is grateful when somebody calls their name from across the room and they go skipping away.
Nick edges a little bit closer to Charlie and the stranger. The other man is sleazy-looking, and not only because Nick has a jealous heart. His brown hair is slicked back and his clothes reek of new money. He’s handsome, Nick can’t deny that, if you’re into posh wanker.
He looks down at himself, his plain old jeans and his scuffed, muddy vans. He’s wearing a hoodie, for fucks sake. At a party. Charlie looks stunning in a loose, semi-sheer black shirt over obscenely tight black skinny jeans and Nick is here looking like he’s popping to Tesco or something. He looks back at the man Charlie is talking to, his perfect teeth, his slim frame, his fancy clothes… he looks a bit smarmy, sure, but he looks good enough to be seen with Charlie Spring.
Who does Nick think he is, crushing on someone like Charlie?
Nick is about to turn around and walk away to wallow in peace when he hears Charlie’s raised voice above the noise of the party.
“Ben, I said no. I’m not sure what part of that word you don’t understand, but maybe you should read a fucking dictionary or something.”
Nick tenses, watching the man – Ben – take a step even closer.
“Don’t be stupid, Charlie. You’ve been looking at me all night.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you so that I can avoid you at all costs. How did you even get in here? Nobody invited you, and nobody wants you here.”
Ben’s smug expression drops at that, his teeth clenching. Nick’s hand tightens on his plastic cup of rum and coke.
“Don’t be so fucking obnoxious, Charlie. Let’s go outside instead of you throwing a hissy fit in public, hmm? Look, I’m your only option here so you might as well come with me. It’s not like anyone else is going to want you, is it?”
When Ben reaches out and tries to grab Charlie’s wrist, Nick has officially had enough. Charlie is quick, stepping out of Ben’s reach before he can get to him, but Nick still strides forward anyway just in case he’s needed. He might not be the scariest looking guy, but he is big and he is definitely not afraid of dragging a dickhead out of his flat and throwing him on his ass. He comes to a stop behind Charlie, close enough to be able to see how tense Charlie is but not close enough to touch and scare Charlie even further.
Or not close enough for that until Charlie takes another step backwards and collides with Nick’s chest, that is.
He throws a panicked look over his shoulder and then visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s Nick he’s come into contact with. Instead of jumping away like Nick half expects him to, Charlie presses in even closer and tilts his head sideways to give Nick a soft smile.
“There you are,” he says. His voice is slightly off, but he looks determined as he reaches for Nick’s hand and pulls it around his waist.
Nick is confused but admittedly not entirely unhappy at the development. Charlie’s back is pressed right up against his front now, and when Charlie links their fingers together over his stomach Nick’s legs nearly give out beneath him.
“You were saying?” Charlie asks, voice dripping with feigned sweetness as he looks back to Ben.
“Charlie,” Ben scoffs. “Don’t be so desperate. You can’t just grab the first guy you see and pretend to–”
Nick’s slow, smitten brain finally catches up with what’s happening as Ben talks, right on time to interrupt him. “I got you your drink, darling,” Nick says, bringing the hand that Charlie isn’t holding up and handing over his own cup. “Just how you like it.”
He feels Charlie let out a relieved sigh as he takes the drink from Nick and says, “You always know just how I like it.”
Nick’s chokes on his own breath and his hand clenches involuntarily around Charlie’s, which only makes Charlie’s smile wider. It’s real this time, though, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Yeah,” he finally manages, his eyes wide. For once, he doesn’t feel compelled to look away or run away. The weight of Charlie’s body is grounding him somehow, keeping him glued to the spot and actually wanting to stay there.
“Right, well,” Ben clears his throat from beside them. “Those are some disgustingly soft looks you’re giving each other and it’s genuinely horrible to watch.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Charlie snaps. “Just leave. You worked with Isaac for, like, five minutes six years ago. There is literally no reason for you to be here.”
“You’re pitiful, Charlie. I don’t know why I ever went out with you,” Ben scoffs, and then he’s stalking across the room towards the hallway.
Nick follows him to make sure he actually leaves. Charlie follows Nick, hovering close as Nick watches Ben descend the staircase and slam his way out of the building.
“Do you think he’s actually gone? I could use some fresh air but I don’t want to go out in case he’s lingering.”
“There’s a shared garden out the back if you’d prefer that?” Nick offers.
Charlie blinks up at him innocently as he sways slightly, linking his own fingers together behind his back. “Show me?” he asks sweetly, and who is Nick to deny him anything?
They settle on the back step of Nick’s block of flats, their sides pressed together in the evening chill.
“So. He was a charmer,” Nick teases, nudging his shoulder against Charlie’s.
“Oh my god, stop. He’s the biggest regret of my life.”
“I can see why.”
Charlie rolls his eyes and nudges Nick back. “Thanks for catching on back there. He – he has this thing where he likes to try and convince me that I’m, like, unlovable to anyone but him. Which worked three years ago, but absolutely will not work now. I just figured that if he saw me with someone and thought that person did… you know, feel that way about me, then maybe that would be enough to shut him up?”
Nick swallows down his rage at anyone ever making Charlie feel like he wasn’t lovable, because the thought is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard in his life. If Nick had half a chance, he would love Charlie wholly, fully, and without any reservation.
“So, thank you for being around. And for letting me use you for… that.”
“Anytime,” Nick says. “But I think you would’ve handled him whether I’d been there or not. You sounded seconds away from verbally eviscerating him, I was only there in case you needed some extra muscle.”
Charlie looks at him and there’s that smile again, the almost smirk. The teasing eyes. The quick lick of his bottom lip.
“Well, the muscle was very appreciated,” Charlie tells him, and even Nick can’t miss the way his eyes travel down his body and back up to his face, slowly and intentionally.
Then the blush is back, as well as the not knowing what to say. Nick opens his mouth to respond with something smooth and sexy and hopefully not too desperate, but his brain is just whirring like a frozen computer and he doesn’t quite know how to proceed.
Charlie bites back a smile and Nick is sure, he’s certain that he’s closer than he was. He can see every speck of colour in Charlie’s blue eyes and can almost count his eyelashes one by one. He swallows thickly and watches as Charlie’s eyes track the movement in his throat and then settle on his lips.
Fuck. This is happening. Is this happening?
“Charlie, I –”
“Nick!” a voice calls, and Nick huffs as Charlie darts backwards in surprise. Nick turns to see Darcy hanging out of his second-floor kitchen window precariously. “Where did you hide the other vodka? I need it for the next batch of punch!”
“One second!” Nick calls, shooting Charlie an apologetic look. He stands up and reaches out a hand to help Charlie up, too. “You look freezing, anyway. Come on, back inside with you.”
Charlie sticks by him when they get back inside. After Nick relents and gives Darcy the second bottle of vodka, Charlie picks up the rum from the table and waggles his eyebrows at Nick.
“Shots?” he suggests, and Nick is helpless against the hopeful look on Charlie’s face.
“Fine. Shots.”
Everything gets a bit fuzzy after that. He knows they join the wider group in a round of Never Have I Ever and he vaguely remembers chasing Isaac around the living room in a very enthusiastic game of Duck, Duck Goose, but the rest is a blur of laughter, spilled drinks and his downstairs neighbours banging on the ceiling to tell them to shut up. Nick makes a mental note to leave some flowers on their doorstep to apologise.
Now, though, all he feels is the morning after fear and the bitter taste of rum still on his tongue.
Nick reads back over Charlie’s last text and barely resists kicking his feet like a giddy child. He would love nothing more than for Charlie to come over this morning, and he definitely needs coffee, but his head is foggy and he thinks he’d be pretty terrible company. Charlie, for some reason, seems to think he needs to repay Nick for “helping” him with Ben last night, even though Charlie did it all himself. Charlie absolutely does not owe him anything and Nick feels the urgent need to make sure he knows that.
Nick: You’re too nice. You don’t have to bring me anything, I don’t want to bother you. I have coffee at home!
He thinks back to their moment outside yesterday. He was fairly sure at the time that Charlie had been going to kiss him, but the thought feels ridiculous now in the cold light of morning. No way was someone as fascinating and lovely as Charlie interested in someone like Nick like that. No way.
Nick sighs as his phone vibrates again, and he flips it over to read Charlie’s response.
Charlie: okay, so i know you don’t always understand social cues so let me elaborate
Charlie: i miss you and i want to see your face. can i come over (to bring you coffee)?
Nick squeaks and drops his phone. He doesn’t just drop it, actually, it flies right out of his hand and behind the sofa, landing with a thud on the carpeted floor.
Fuck fuck fuck, he thinks, scrambling to his feet so he can find it as quickly as possible.
Charlie misses him. Charlie misses him. Charlie misses him.
So maybe he didn’t misread Charlie’s intentions last night. Maybe he didn’t imagine all the times that Charlie had touched his arm or laughed loudly at one of Nick’s extremely unfunny jokes or twirled a curl around his finger as he gazed up at Nick through his lashes.
Fuck. He types out a response as fast as his tired brain can manage.
Nick: yes
Nick: I mean. Please, come over. Yes.
He stares down at his phone as the message is marked as “read” immediately, and then the three dots appear.
Charlie: be there in 20.
Nick looks around his disaster of a flat in a panic. He obviously hasn’t cleaned it yet and there are half empty cups and food bowls everywhere. He needs to sort himself out first, though. He somehow manages to drag himself into the shower and then brushes his teeth before pulling on a pair of clean joggers and a ratty old hoodie. He still looks a right state, but at least he’s clean.
He's just finishing towel drying his hair when the buzzer goes, and Nick stumbles through to the hallway to let Charlie up. It feels like an age until there’s a knock on his door, but he counts to seven in his head before he opens it so it doesn’t seem like he’s been standing there waiting.
The sight that greets him when he does open the door could probably cure any ailment going. Charlie looks radiant even with a hangover, his curls styled perfectly and his knitted jumper so long that it’s covering almost all of his hands. The hands which are currently holding two very large takeaway coffees.
“Oh, you are a hero.”
“Me or the coffee?” Charlie quips, making Nick grin as he steps aside to let Charlie in.
It takes Nick rejecting Charlie’s offer to help clean up about six times before he finally convinces him to sit down.
“You’ve already brought me coffee, that’s enough on its own,” Nick insists.
“But we threw this party together,” Charlie argues. “I should help clear the mess.”
“Maybe later,” Nick says, with absolutely no intention of letting Charlie help. “When I can stand up for longer than three minutes at a time.”
Nick collapses next to Charlie on the sofa with a huff, and Charlie laughs and reaches up to push his still slightly damp hair out of his eyes. Nick’s breath hitches as their eyes meet and Charlie’s smile turns warm and soft. They look at each other for far longer than is normal and Nick feels that same tension he did last night. Does Charlie actually want to kiss him? Sober?
“So, hey. Last night when we were outside… I – I wanted to kiss you. You know that, right?”
Oh. Well. That clears that up, then.
“I… kind of?” Nick replies. “Or I hoped, at least.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“So, if I said that I still wanted to kiss you now? That I’ve wanted to kiss you since we started planning this whole party? Actually, that’s nonsense. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you in the pub for Elle’s 23rd birthday all those years ago.”
Nick exhales shakily. “You have?”
“God, yes,” Charlie nods, his eyes flicking down to look at Nick’s lips again. “How – how do you feel about that?”
Nick can’t seem to lift his own gaze from Charlie’s mouth and all of his words are stuck in his throat. It’s a bit intimidating being so close to Charlie again but then he leans back slightly, Nick actually whines out loud.
Charlie chuckles. “I’ll come back. You just – you looked a little overwhelmed, and I wanted to give you space to think.”
Swallowing, Nick shakes his head. “I don’t need to think. I would very much like to kiss you, too.”
“Oh, thank God,” Charlie breathes, and then he’s taking Nick’s face in his hands and guiding their lips together.
And oh, okay. Kissing Charlie isn’t like kissing anyone else. Nick had always thought that seeing fireworks was a myth, but no… there they are.
When Charlie pulls away he’s already smiling, and when Nick’s eyes flutter back open very slowly, Charlie full on giggles.
“God, you’re cute,” he says, making Nick feel hot and flustered. “We should do that again sometime.”
“Yes!” Nick blurts out, far too quickly. “Right now, actually.”
Charlie's soft smile turns into a smirk, and he slides a hand into Nick’s hair to bring him back in until their foreheads are resting together.
“Just so you know, for the sake of clarity,” Charlie whispers. “I plan on kissing you again right now, but also many, many times after this. Is that okay with you?”
“Fuck, yes,” Nick agrees, and this time he’s the one who closes the last of the distance between them.