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Chapter Text

Despite this being his party, Nick has no clue what song is playing or what alcohol he’s currently drinking. Nor does he know half of the people crammed into his uni house. He doesn’t particularly mind or care, he would be a huge hypocrite if he did with all of the uni parties he’s been to without knowing who the house belongs to and he trusts that his housemates invited all these people, but he just wants to come across someone he knows so he’s not completely bored out of his mind at his own party. Is it even his party at this rate? Yes, it’s at his house and he’s provided most of the alcohol but that’s it. Is there much more to hosting than that? Nick doesn’t know.

People he can’t remember the names of greet him enthusiastically as he shimmies through the crowds in his hallways to get to the kitchen and he replies with polite smiles and generic responses, finding himself wondering how on Earth his housemates, or housemate he should clarify (thanks, Darcy), ever convinced him to go through with this. Don’t get him wrong, he loves parties and he knows better than anyone that it’s very much needed after the stress of finals but, fuck, he’s never hosting one again, at least not during his uni career. He’s already dreading the cleanup that waits him in the morning. 

He needs something stronger. This warm beer isn’t doing shit.

After ten minutes of navigating the snogging couples and more-than-tipsy people attempting to throw themselves at him, he finally makes it to the kitchen and is beyond thankful when it’s mostly void of people. The only people who stand before the counter that’s absolutely covered with different bottles of alcohol and mixers is a couple Nick didn’t expect to see, Tori Spring and Michael Holden. He’s known Tori since his first day of his course, having been her seat neighbour in their first lecture, and then he met Michael at his first meeting at Leeds Uni’s LGBT Society in the January of his first year. To say that he was shocked when he saw Tori, who seemed to be a modern-day version of Wednesday Addams, and Michael, who was sunshine and rainbows personified, holding hands was a major understatement. Especially when it was coupled with the fact that no-one else seemed as bewildered as him. It was then that he supposed that opposites do attract and who was he to judge? Besides, he of all people know to never judge a book by its cover, not when people do it so often to him.

Apparently, having muscles and being a rugby player means he can’t possibly be queer.

At his entrance, Tori stops talking to Michael and gives Nick a nod of acknowledgement, which causes Michael to look in the same direction. Nick blinks a few times as Michael practically tackles him into a hug, his wild hair swaying almost dangerously, and watches as Tori smirks around her straw at the visual before her.

“You alright, Nick?!” Michael yells in Nick’s ear to be heard over the pounding music.

Nick nods with a smile, pulling away from the hug to turn to the array of drinks. “Alright, mate? Alright, Tori? Didn’t expect you guys to be here.”

“We got kicked out of our place, had nowhere else to go,” Tori says bluntly, watching Nick reach for a red cup and a mixer.

“No,” Michael corrects playfully, resting his elbow on his not-girlfriend’s head and grinning when she scowls up at him. “We kindly and lovingly gave up our home so your brother and his friends can have their film night after Tao’s twatwaffle of a roommate kicked off.”

Nick faces the couple with furrowed eyebrows, setting the bottle down, and says. “Tori, I didn’t know you have a brother.”

She stares at him blankly and wraps her lips around her straw, slurping her drink loudly without taking her eyes off of Nick. Nick stands there, his eyes shifting awkwardly to a still-grinning Michael, as they both waited for the shorter girl to say something. He has his hands still wrapped around the two-litre off-brand cola bottle.

“You’re his type,” is what finally comes out of her mouth and causes Nick to almost lose his grasp on the bottle. 

Though Nick thought it to be impossible, Michael perks up and an even bigger grin takes over his face, his green and blue eyes gleaming in the low light of the kitchen. He jumps giddily like a little kid at Tori’s words and claps his hands excitedly, making Tori lay her hand on his bicep, presumably to stop him from bursting through the roof.

“Ooh, yeah, you are!” he says brightly before turning to Tori. “D’you think we can get them to meet before he goes back to London?”

“He’s performing with the band at that gay bar tomorrow,” Tori reveals.

Michael whoops and turns back to Nick, who hasn’t moved a single muscle since Tori’s first admission. She’s said it so bluntly and confidently that Nick finds it hard to get past it. 

What exactly does she mean by Nick being her brother’s type? He doesn’t think he’s anything special. Honestly, he’s always seen himself as a generic, objectively attractive rugby lad with himbo tendencies. There’s nothing seemingly outstanding about him. How can he be anyone’s type?

With this line of thought, he ends up wondering what her brother even looks like. Does he look like his sister? He can’t deny that Tori is attractive, with her long dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, and he wonders just how strong the genetics are between brother and sister. Did Tori’s brother also have dark hair and big sparkling eyes? Maybe even a devilish smirk like Tori’s? Nick felt lightheaded at the thought.

Fuck. At least he knows his own type now.

Tori takes note of his silence and her smirk returns.

“You mean, Darcy and Tara haven’t told you about Charlie?”

Nick’s heart thuds. Charlie. Just hearing the name fall from the Spring girl’s lips is causing his palms to turn clammy and he’s having a hard time trying to breathe normally again. It’s weird. Charlie’s an awfully common name, there’s three Charlies on his fucking course, so why is this causing such a visceral reaction?

“Wow, and Darcy prides themself on being a meddling gay,” she drawls. “They’re seriously slacking.”

But none of the following conversation, though he’s actively partaking in it, is registering in Nick’s brain past Michael’s very enthusiastic suggestion of joining him and Tori in seeing Charlie perform the following night. At the second mention of ‘gay bar’, Darcy appears out of nowhere with their tongue dyed blue from jelly shots and bright eyes and insists on inserting themself into the middle of the conversation like they’ve always been there. They positively scream when Tori mentions Charlie, pointing an accusing finger at Nick.

“Charlie’s the guy I’ve been trying to get you to date for months!” they state and Nick winces at the pitch their voice reaches. “Oh, we’re so going! Tara! You’ll never guess what just happened!”

Darcy leaves as quick as they came, screaming for their girlfriend, and Nick briefly wonders if Drunk Darcy has some kind of teleportation power before secretly hoping that they’ll have no recollection of this conversation when they’re suffering from their inevitable hangover in the morning. But one look at Tori and her sly facial expression diminishes it at an instant.

Nick is so fucked.

Chapter Text

Nick knows he’s screwed from the moment he sets eyes on Charlie for the first time. He’s laughing with the bassist as the band potter about the makeshift stage, preparing their instruments, and Nick cannot keep his eyes away. Granted, he can’t exactly see much because the stage is dunked in darkness but he knows exactly which shadow is Charlie, even before Darcy points him out. Of course, Nick knows that Charlie plays the drums so it makes sense for his eyes to go directly to the drum set but he does feel some kind of magnetic pull towards the shadow anyway. He wants to go up to him, to introduce himself to Charlie and wish him luck, but he knows that’s creepy because, presumably, Charlie has no clue who Nick even is. So he stays seated at the table with Tara, Michael and Tori, waiting for Darcy to return to them with drinks.

“Where are Elle, Tao and Aled?” Tara asks, spouting more names that Nick has never even heard of, save for the brief mention of Tao from Michael.

Tori shrugs. “Apparently, Aled couldn’t stay and Tao took Elle on a date. Bit shitty of Tao if you ask me but Charlie said he insisted when Tao argued that he can rearrange the date.”

This makes Tara smile.

“Aw, he’s always been a bit of a romantic, hasn’t he?”

Tori has no reaction, which makes Nick snort to himself, and Tara goes to say more, turning to Nick, when Darcy bounds over with a tray of drinks, each one looking more fanciful than the last. Nick gives Darcy a look with a raised eyebrow. He only ordered a pint. Darcy’s eyes gleam in the low light.

“Now, now, Nicholas,” they tut. “You are not getting the godawful straight-guy ‘pint’ when you are pursuing Charlie.”

“Charlie doesn’t care about what drinks Nick has,” Tara points out, shaking her head with loving exasperation when Darcy places a shushing finger to her girlfriend’s lips. 

“Shh, Jonesy. Now, we have a Cosmopolitan for our wonderful Michael Holden.”

Michael bows his head exaggeratedly in thanks as he takes the pink-filled glass from chaos personified and takes a victorious sip. Darcy grins.

“For Tori, my dear, a vodka lemonade, with more lemonade than vodka,” they announce, setting the glass of clear fizzy liquid in front of the girl. “I’m afraid they only had paper straws.”

Tori scowls. “I’ll make do.”

“My amazing, beautiful girlfriend, a Purple Rain for you,” they continue, sliding the glass of violet cocktail towards Tara, before plucking a Long Island Iced Tea for themself and then turning to face Nick, holding out an elaborate glass of a liquid with an ombré of yellow, orange and red. “And for you, Nickypoo, a Sex On The Beach. Y’know, to fulfil the prophecy for tonight.”

“There aren’t any beaches in Leeds,” Tori says unhelpfully.

“There’s one at Leeds Castle,” Michael pipes up as if answering a question in class. 

Nick groans. “You don’t even know if we’ll get on. We might think the other is a right prick. Not that I think your brother’s a prick, Tori.”

“Oh, no, he is a prick.”

Nick wants to die. 

He goes to send another glance towards the stage, pointedly ignoring Darcy’s rant about how Nick and Charlie are perfect for each other (“First of all, just saying your names together just sound so perfect.”), when the bassist strums loudly and the entire bar goes silent. A beautiful girl with long dark hair and a guitar takes the microphone and smiles at the small crowd, beginning to speak as if she’s addressing a ninety-thousand-people crowd at Wembley Stadium.

“Alright, Leeds, how’s it going?!” she asks and the crowd cheers, Nick’s table being the loudest. “We are Queer Intentions if you don’t know us and we were hoping to sing you guys a few songs, if that’s okay with you?”

The crowd cheers again, Nick winces at the very loud whoop Darcy lets out right next to his ear, and the girl with the microphone grins wider, turning to face the drum set. Nick’s eyes follow and he feels his breath leave his lungs at what greets him. With four taps of drumsticks, the beat starts and Nick is enraptured. Not in the music, though he can’t fault that it’s right up his street. 

No, he’s enraptured in Charlie.

Whatever image of Charlie Nick managed to conjure up in his mind in the last twenty-four hours pales significantly to the reality. The first thing Nick notices are Charlie’s eyes and he’s immediately gone on his friend’s brother. Wide and blue and emphasised by a thick application of black eyeliner. He notices the glaze of focus and determination that covers them as Charlie drums and flickered his gaze up to Charlie’s hair when the mop of curls fly across his forehead at his head bobbing to the beat. Curls! He can’t tear his gaze away, not even when Darcy annoyingly pokes and prods him in their excitement, he’s too captivated by Charlie Spring and his eyes and his curls and his arms and the way his tongue peeks out of his lips occasionally. 

If Nick had full awareness of his unabashed staring, he’d curse himself out and shy away. But he doesn’t so he stays exactly where he is and keeps noticing new things about Charlie with every passing second. The sliver of skin on Charlie’s abdomen that’s revealed by an obviously-at-home crop job of his t-shirt, the tightness of his jeans as the denim strains against his legs, the crease in between his eyebrows at a particularly-complicated-sounding drum solo. Then something must’ve happened that makes Charlie laugh because Nick notices him throwing his head back to laugh loudly, somehow still remaining on beat, and, when he brings his head back down with a wide smile, there are dimples embedded in the middle of his cheeks. 

Fuck.

Then there’s raucous applause around him, Darcy’s whooping loudly in his ear again, and Nick blinks to come back to his reality, only to see Charlie staring right back at him. Nick curses under his breath. He’s been caught. He swallows and ducks his head to take a long sip of his drink, that ends up causing him to down almost half of his drink in one go, before chancing another glance towards the band, only to see them starting to tidy up. The singer speaks again.

“Thank you very much, Leeds!” she says. “We are Queer Intentions, please go check us out on Instagram and TikTok and book us for any upcoming events!”

With one last round of applause, the band start to walk off to the backroom and Nick doesn’t know if he imagines the way Charlie looks back at him before disappearing behind the door or not. Regardless, he twists back in his chair to face his friends, only to see four sets of eyes staring at him. Tori would look unimpressed if Nick didn’t notice the shimmer in her eyes, that look identical to Charlie’s, Michael seems to be physically vibrating in his seat as he beams at Nick, Tara seems a lot more calmer as she grins knowingly around her straw. Darcy, however, is actively climbing on top of Nick in their excitement and Nick has to gently push them off of him and back into Tara’s waiting arms as he processes what just happened. He groans and lets his head fall into his hands.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” he asks.

“Yep,” they all reply in scarily perfect unison.

Nick sighs. Could he be more of a fucking idiot? No, he can’t. What kind of person stares at someone so intently that they lose track of time? Him, apparently. Lifting his head at the sound of a moving chair, he watches as Tori stands from her seat and wanders off wordlessly towards the bar. Nick guesses she’s going to order Charlie a drink.

“So, NickyNack, any of those band members catch your eye?” Darcy asks from Tara’s embrace.

He glares playfully and says. “In all those months of trying to get me to date him, you never thought to show me a photo?”

They let out a low whistle, downing the remnants of their Long Island Iced Tea. “Never known you to judge a book by its cover, Nicholas.”

Nick scowls, going to bite back a joking insult, but then falters when an unfamiliar presence appears beside him and he looks up to be greeted with the same blue eyes that enchanted him before. He swallows and licks his lips as Charlie greets everyone. 

“Where’s Tori?”

“She’s just gone to get you a drink and some chips,” Michael replies and Nick starts to scramble to his feet to offer Charlie his seat when Michael ceremoniously jumps up. “I’ll get you a chair!”

Once again, Nick falters and sits back down, shooting Darcy a true glare when they snort at his actions. Charlie thanks Michael as he fetches a chair and sets it in between Nick and Tori’s chair, sitting down. Nick tries not to draw attention to the fact that Charlie’s thigh brushes against his as he moves to sit and smiles widely when Charlie smiles at him. 

“Hi,” Charlie says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile that suddenly turns shy.

Nick swallows nervously and replies. “Hi.”

Chapter Text

It shouldn’t be this easy. 

Nick and Charlie have been dating for the entire summer, going on picnic dates and cinema dates and snogging at every opportunity. It’s incredible and freeing and perfect and easy and it terrifies Nick. He’s not sure why. Okay, maybe he is sure.

He guesses he hasn’t had much luck in the romance side of life. Secondary school was full of sexuality crises and kisses with girls who all turned out to be queer and any attempts of one night stands with boys and girls at the start of uni were quickly thwarted because Nick always felt more than his partners ever did. Even his two serious-ish relationships in the latter parts of the first terms of his first and second years, he’d felt too much. He was too much. Too romantic, too emotional, too clingy, too touchy-feely, too… Everything. And he doesn’t know how to dial it back.

“You’re thinking very loud there, Nick,” comes a teasing voice, bringing him back to reality.

He looks up. Charlie’s staring down at him, his huge blue eyes shimmering with adoration and a sweet smile painting his lips. They’re in his childhood bedroom, curled up in each other’s arms after taking advantage of Nick’s mum working a late shift. Nick revels in the feeling of Charlie’s bare skin against his, the feeling of their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces, and tries to push his anxiety away. He smiles, his cheeks turning pink, and looks down bashfully.

“Sorry, I…” he starts then shakes his head at himself. “Sorry.”

Charlie shakes his head too and runs a light finger down the slope of Nick’s nose. “No sorries. What’s up?”

Nick looks up at him again and meets those beautiful eyes, the first thing that ever captivated Nick. He can’t live without those eyes now. How is he going to survive being four hours away from them, from him?

“Char…” he whispers then smiles a bit more, the memory of the first time he used that name blinding him.

It was on one of their cinema dates. Nick can’t remember what film they saw, he distinctly remembers the feeling of Charlie’s lips against his in the back of the screen room though, but it was during Nick’s final weekend of the uni year. Charlie had come up to help him, and his sister and other friends, pack to move back home for the summer and they’d taken the opportunity for a quick date. Nick had asked him a question about what popcorn he wanted and turned to look at him when he didn’t answer, only to be greeted with a beaming smile and sparkling eyes. 

“Char?” he’d asked. 

Nick turned bright red when he realised. He insisted that it just slipped out and Charlie started teasing him, begging him to repeat it, before Nick joked he’d never say it again. 

It’s his favourite way to address Charlie.

“’M just gonna miss you,” he mumbles.

He snuggles in deeper in his duvet and Charlie’s chest and Charlie gives a sweet chuckle, running his hand through his blonde hair. He hears Charlie murmur the same sentiment and press a kiss to his head. Nick closes his eyes and releases a shuddered sigh, trying to dispel his tears. He feels Charlie freeze against him and carefully opens his eyes to see him still staring down at him, the blue in his eyes shining with concern.

“Are you?” he whispers.

Charlie gives him a look that mixes confusion with disbelief and Nick quickly apologises, scrambling to sit up with his back facing Charlie. He lets his head fall into his hands as he rests his elbows on his knees and heaves another sigh, allowing his tears to soak his fingers.

“Nick?”

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t even move. God, he hates himself. He hates himself so much. Why was he ruining this by crying? Nothing even happened, he’s just being stupid. He rubs his palms over his face to get rid of any signs of crying and goes to move when he hears the shuffling of the duvet being moved and feels Charlie’s gentle hand on his biceps, a comforting thumb stroking his skin.

“Nick,” Charlie repeats softly. “Of course I’m gonna miss you.”

Nick does move his head away from his hands this time and looks over at Charlie, whose stare is nothing but earnest. Nick sucks in a shaky breath.

“What makes you think I won’t?”

Nick shakes his head and looks down when Charlie reaches down to intertwine their fingers. They meet each other’s eyes and Nick’s next words just fly out of him.

“This just feels too good to be true.”

He’s expecting Charlie to be upset at his words, to throw his hands off of him, get dressed and storm off. Yes, he knows he’s dramatic but it’s what’s going through his head. But Charlie does none of those things. Instead, he squeezes Nick’s hand and his bicep. He kisses Nick’s head. He rests his forehead on Nick’s temple. Nick swallows.

Charlie murmurs. “It does.”

Nick’s definitely not expecting that. He stares at Charlie with his mouth agape but Charlie just continues.

“I mean, everything’s just felt so easy. Nothing’s felt awkward or forced or silly. It’s all felt so…”

“Perfect,” Nick finishes.

“Yeah.”

Nick looks at their intertwined fingers and reminds himself that Charlie’s choosing to be with him. He’s choosing to hold Nick’s hand right now, choosing to be naked in Nick’s childhood bed with him.

He has every right to leave at any moment and he’s choosing not to.

A small smile lingers on Nick’s lips as this sinks in and he says meekly. “So you don’t mind that I’m so…”

He gestures unhelpfully, which makes Charlie giggle, Nick’s entire face brightening, and Charlie fills in the gaps.

“Is that what this is about?” he asks. “You’re scared you’re so much?”

Nick shrugs. “Well, yeah. I’ve always been a lot. My exes both broke up with me because I’m too much.”

Charlie barks out a laugh and presses his lips against Nick’s, confusing Nick greatly. He stares at Charlie, bemused, when they pull away and Charlie looks at him with shining eyes.

“Nick, your exes are fucking idiots,” he states as if his words are facts. “Like, I’m sorry? ‘Too much’? They weren’t enough for you, is what they should’ve said.”

Nick’s heart pounds. 

“You…” he whispers. “You don’t mind me being so affectionate and clingy and…”

“‘Don’t mind’? I love it. I love being shown off, I love being showered with kisses and hugs and paraded around and everything. I love everything you do. Especially after Ben.”

Nick shudders at the mention of Charlie’s ex-boyfriend, making Charlie giggle more. Nick’s heart sings at the sound. He remembers the night Charlie first opened up about his past, about how his only other relationship was built on shame and hidden in the shadows. He remembers how his heart broke at Charlie’s fragile tone and the way Charlie clung to him. He feels stupid now.

He groans, flopping back onto his bed and burying his face into his pillow. “Why am I such an idiot?”

He hears more of Charlie’s chuckles and feels the mattress shift beside him, delicate fingers threading through his hair once more. 

“You’re not,” he hears Charlie say and moves his head to look up at him, a definitive pout on his face, which sparks a soft smile on his lips. “You’ve been hurt, there’s a difference.”

Nick stays silent and allows his eyes to flutter all over his boyfriend’s face, hating the way he’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop instead of basking in this honeymoon phase with the best partner he’s ever had. He stares up at the man beside him, his heart skipping a beat or five when he admires the way Charlie’s stormy-blue eyes shimmer in the low light of his fairy lights, and smiles despite himself when Charlie rests his forehead against his.

“I’m not going to be like them, Nick,” Charlie whispers against Nick’s lips, Nick’s eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his breath. “Just like you’re never going to be like Ben.”

Nick vehemently shakes his head. “Never.”

Charlie chuckles. “Exactly.”

Then he leans forward to close the minuscule gap between them, filling Nick’s body with so much warmth and love, and Nick feels his anxiety start to slip into oblivion for the first time since he first heard Charlie’s name at his party. Squeezing the hand he’s holding, Nick nestles his free hand in Charlie’s curls and allows his boyfriend to shift his body so he hovers over Nick. Nick can’t help but smile and tries to chase Charlie’s lips when he pulls away, nuzzling Nick’s nose with his own.

“They didn’t deserve us. But you deserve me and I deserve you,” Charlie tells him firmly yet sweetly, cupping Nick’s cheek. “Can I prove it to you?”

With a chuckle and a desperate need to kiss Charlie more, Nick nods frantically and strains his neck to meet Charlie’s lips, making the glorious sound of Charlie’s happiness come from him. Nick relaxes as Charlie lets his naked chest fall onto his and falls into the kiss, allowing himself to sink and bask in the love that pours out of both of them.