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Charlie was late. He hated arriving late and alone to things, but his parents refused to let him skip out early on dinner with his aunt and uncle. So it wasn’t his fault, necessarily, but he was still late.
“They so rarely visit,” his mom had reminded him. “You see your friends all the time, you can be an hour late for one party.”
So Charlie had to endure insensitive comments from his mom’s brother about his gangly arms and non-feminine appearance despite being gay when he could have been drinking with his friends and pretending he wasn’t staring at Nick.
“Gosh, you need to put some meat on those bones, Chuck! And aren’t you gays supposed to be more flamboyant? I’ve never even seen you in pink.”
Charlie had forced a pained smile and stabbed at his veg. Tori squeezed his knee, letting him know she was there and understood; he didn’t have to do this alone. He’d been able to muster a small smile at that, unbelievably grateful for her presence.
As soon as they’d been ushered out the door, Charlie bolted up to his room to change into the vaguely Christmas-y jumper he’d chosen for the party. The fact that Nick had commented on how much the colour brought out his eyes was purely coincidental and had no bearing on his decision-making. But if Nick decided to stare deeply into Charlie’s eyes again and give him a similar compliment, who was he to complain?
Sahar was hosting, as she was wont to do, and lived just at the edge of what Charlie would deem walking distance. Normally, Nick would pick him up in the little used coupe he’d inherited when his mum upgraded to an SUV, but he was planning to arrive at the party not an hour in, so Charlie had no choice but to walk.
He slipped in the door, hoping to quietly join the fray and find his friends without making a big fuss. Unfortunately, he was practically swarmed as he was toeing off his shoes by the entrance.
“Thank god you’re here!” Nick got to him first, practically skidding to a stop in front of him, hands tightly grasping his shoulders. Charlie had had this daydream before; next, Nick would lean in and snog Charlie within an inch of his life.
But before they could reach that part of the fantasy (which was totally what was on track to happen next in real life), Darcy ran up to them, followed closely by Tara and Elle.
“Charlie, you’ll never guess what’s been happening! It’s so funny!” Darcy wedged themself between Nick and Charlie, now awkwardly being hugged in between them.
“No, I get him on my side!” Nick removed his hands to lightly shove Darcy aside.
“Okay, but it is still so funny,” Tara giggled next to Darcy.
Charlie looked frantically among all his gathered friends. “What’s going on?”
Elle piped up, clearly less amused than Tara and Darcy but still with a spark of mirth in her eyes. “The other day, we heard a bunch of the Higgs girls devising a plan. They knew Sahar would have mistletoe hung up, because she always does, and they decided to play a game to see who could get Nick under the mistletoe.”
Charlie’s heart sank. “What?”
Darcy was almost bouncing with excitement. “It’s actually crazy! Like, twenty girls decided their main activity at this party would be luring this idiot under some plastic leaves so he’d have to kiss them.”
“Oh. Uh,” Charlie turned to face Nick, who was wide eyed and flushed. “So you’ve been just… kissing random girls all night?”
And that would be totally fine. Nick could do whatever he wanted. He could kiss every consenting girl at Higgs tonight, if he so chose. Charlie had no claim to him, just an astronomically large crush and absolutely no chance.
“No. No!” Nick hastened to respond, almost shouting in his urgency. “I’ve been holed up in the corner as far from any doorways as possible. But our whole friend group, some friends they are, have refused to help me. No one will run interference for me!”
“Not our fault you’re the only jock in our group so we don’t understand what that means!” Darcy’s tone had absolutely no sympathy. And their shit-eating grin definitely had no sympathy behind it.
It made sense. Nick was tall and muscly and had soft-looking hair and warm eyes and an unfairly attractive face. And he was kind in a way teenage boys, especially teenage boy jocks, usually weren’t. In fact, that kindness was most likely the root of his current problem.
“You don’t want to kiss any of them?” Charlie could at least admit to himself that he was mostly fishing. He was only human; sue him!
“No!” Nick said it emphatically, eyes fully locked with Charlie’s.
“So tell them that.”
“I don’t want to be mean!” Everyone chorused along with Nick. He glared at them.
Elle placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, it’s not mean to tell the gaggle of girls stalking you tonight that you don’t want to be forced to kiss them.”
“Well, it doesn’t even matter now.” Nick slung an arm over Charlie’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Charlie’s here. And as my best friend, he’s actually nice to me.”
Darcy gave an affronted gasp.
Charlie was trying hard to ignore the buzzing he felt at every centimeter of contact. “And what exactly does me being nice to you entail in this context?”
“Stay by my side the rest of the night. Go where I go. Can’t get me alone under the mistletoe if I’m never alone!” Nick grinned with pride, as if he had devised a foolproof plan.
“So no different than what you two would have done anyway?” Tara smirked knowingly, and Charlie avoided her gaze.
“Exactly!” Nick poked one of Charlie’s dimples and smiled at him with soft eyes. There was no world where Charlie could say no to this boy, not when he looked at him like that and just wanted to spend time with him all night.
They migrated away from their still giggling friends, Charlie hyper aware of all the eyes currently trained on them. “Alright, Romeo. I’m assuming you haven’t been able to actually go to the kitchen to get a drink?”
“That’s how this whole ordeal started! I was walking into the kitchen and three girls ran up as I was about to walk through the door. I just kind of stood there awkwardly as they argued over who had gotten there first. That’s when Elle took pity on me and clued me in.”
Charlie loved watching Nick tell stories. He was so animated, his eyes sparkling with each word, even as he shuddered at the memory.
“Okay, how about this? You find us a spot somewhere away from doorways where we can post up, and I’ll get you a drink. Root beer and rum, yeah?”
Nick smiled, small and sweet, eyes impossibly soft. He nodded lightly. “You’re the best. Like, actually, truly the best person I’ve ever met. There’s some chairs in the corner by the den. I’ve been hiding out there.”
“Got it. See you in a bit.” Charlie reluctantly extracted himself from under Nick’s arm, immediately missing the heavy warmth. As he walked away, he saw no less than six girls begin towards Nick. He resolutely ignored them, not wanting to abandon his mission. Nick could handle himself for now.
Once Charlie had acquired the drinks, he made his way to the area Nick had indicated, hoping against hope that no one had disturbed his little hideout. Unfortunately, he was not so lucky.
A girl was sat next to Nick, presumably in the chair meant for Charlie. She was pretty, at least as far as Charlie’s gay brain could see. Long dark hair pulled back from her face, an almost delicate quality to her face. She was smiling at Nick with perfect teeth and deep dimples as he spoke.
Charlie faltered for a moment. Maybe this was someone Nick actually wanted to be around. He was talking to her and didn’t look particularly put out. And Nick had always had crushes on celebrities with dark hair and dimples. What if Charlie was actually about to interrupt a moment that Nick was excited about? His heart panged.
Just as he was going to duck away and not disturb them, too fragile to actually see this interaction up close, Nick caught sight of him. His face lit up with relief, and he waved Charlie over with enthusiasm. The girl looked over too, smile dimming but still in place.
Once Charlie was in earshot, Nick bolted up and hurried to him. “Charlie! There you are!” He leaned in to whisper only to Charlie. “Thank god, I couldn’t figure out how to politely ask her to leave me alone.”
Charlie hated how much that simple confirmation of Nick’s disinterest made his stomach swoop.
Nick turned back to the girl. “Um, we’re gonna find somewhere to sit. It was nice to meet you…” Charlie saw the panic settle on Nick’s face as he realised he did not remember this girl’s name.
“Gemma.” Her smile turned pained.
“Gemma, yes! Nice to meet you, Gemma.” Nick stood there for another moment before nodding awkwardly and turning away again. He lightly grabbed Charlie’s arm and steered him towards an area with couches.
“Nick!” The boy in question’s hand tightened on Charlie’s arm at the sound of someone yelling after him. Charlie watched him plaster on a wooden smile and keep him close to his side. “I’ve been looking for you!”
Another unfairly pretty girl appeared before them, blonde waves framing her heart-shaped face and highlighting her bright green eyes. Charlie felt all too aware of his lump of frizzy curls and dull blue eyes as he took in the girl in front of them.
“Hi, yeah, I’m here.” Charlie had never heard Nick sound so fake in his excitement.
“Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something in the kitchen.” She pouted her lips slightly and looked up at Nick through her eyelashes. Charlie could see how such a move would be effective for someone interested in girls. If Nick looked at him like that, he’d probably do whatever he asked.
“Oh, I’m not all that helpful, unfortunately. Like, I have no idea where things are in this house.” A full lie; their friend group spent a lot of time at Sahar’s. “And I’m actually not all that strong.” Another lie; Nick had effortlessly scooped up Charlie and carried him around on several occasions.
Her smile faltered slightly, evidently not prepared for Nick’s swift shutdown. “It’s actually, uh, not either of those things. It’ll be easier to just show you.” She reached out and grabbed Nick’s free hand with both of hers, making to gently pull him forward.
Even just in the periphery, Charlie could see panic overtake Nick’s face. With little time to think, Charlie used what he had available and spilled one of the drinks onto Nick’s shoe, splashing up to splatter his trousers as well.
“Oops!” Charlie tried to make his giggle sound drunk despite not having had a single drop of alcohol yet. “So clumsy of me. Sorry, Nick, I’m just the worst.”
Nick looked down at his trousers and then at Charlie, eyes wide and warm, cheeks flushed. His eyebrows knitted together in a subtle display of gratitude. “No worries, Charlie. You’re still my favourite. But now you have to help me clean up!”
With an apologetic smile, Nick extracted his hand and hurried with Charlie towards the loo on the second floor, which was the one Sahar reserved just for her closest friends. Nick opened the door slowly, not wanting to accidentally walk in on Tara and Darcy, as they’d done many times before. But the coast was clear so he pulled Charlie inside and shut the door, Charlie leaving his own drink on the floor outside.
“You’re the actual best.” Nick pulled his sopping wet socks off his feet and shot Charlie a dazzling smile.
Charlie began filling the sink with warm water. “I spilled your drink, a drink you’ve been waiting for all night, all over your feet. I’m far from the best.”
Nick gave an affronted gasp as he began soaking his socks in the sink. “No, you saved me! And don’t be so mean to my best friend, please.”
Charlie huffed out a laugh through his nose. “You’re an idiot.”
As he wrung out his socks, Nick turned to Charlie with a bright smile. “But I’m your idiot. Sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me.”
“Mmm, what a burden.” Charlie sat against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest.
Nick finished wringing out his socks and laid them on the radiator on the other side of the room. Then, he blotted at his trousers in vain, the splatters of alcohol already mostly dry. He shrugged, evidently deciding it was good enough, and settled on the floor next to Charlie.
Charlie turned to Nick and rested the side of his head on his knees. Nick mirrored him, a sweet smile gracing his lips. “So how long have you been anti-mistletoe?”
Nick blew out a laugh through his nose. “I don’t know that I’m against mistletoe. I think I’m just against it being used on me in such a way.”
“I agree it’s diabolical, but I have to have some sympathy for those girls.”
Nick’s brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
Charlie hoped he was adopting a playful vibe instead of the painful earnestness he actually felt. “You walk around looking like that and being so nice and smiling at people the way you do. It was inevitable a bunch of girls would fall in love with you.”
“‘Smiling the way I do?’”
Charlie scoffed. “As if you don’t know. All soft and fond and lopsided.”
As if on cue, Nick smiled that same smile. “I don’t smile at everyone like that. That one’s special.”
Charlie’s heart sped up, and he gaped at Nick. He couldn’t unpack that right now, not when the full-force of what apparently was not the standard Nick Nelson smile was directed at him.
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “But, erm, if there was a girl here tonight who you actually liked, would you be this resistant?” Sometimes Charlie wondered if he was a masochist. What good could come from this question?
Nick’s smile fell away, and he became oddly serious. “There’s only one person I want to kiss. If they tried to get me underneath the mistletoe, I’d stay there as long as they want.”
Something bitter rose in Charlie’s throat. “Oh. Right. But she’s not here?”
Nick was looking at Charlie with such intensity that he worried he was missing something. “They’re not trying to get me by the mistletoe, no.”
“But she’s here?” Shut up shut up shut up!
“They are,” Nick said it so quietly that Charlie wondered if he actually heard the words or if he’d become so good at staring at Nick’s lips that he’d figured it out by sight alone.
Charlie swallowed down his sadness. “Um, well, if you tell me who, I can wingman for you.” What an actual nightmare that would be.
Nick’s expression turned unbelievably fond, and Charlie couldn’t parse why. “No, that’s alright. Just stay here with me. That’s all I really want right now.”
“I’m really glad I know you.” Charlie wished he could blame alcohol for such a statement, but he hadn’t had a sip of his now-abandoned drink. And it was true. However cringey or revealing it was, he couldn’t deny the truth.
Nick smiled, crinkling his eyes with how wide. “God Charlie, I have no idea who I’d be if I didn’t know you.”
“Yeah. I get that. Same.” Probably not the same because Charlie was completely in love with Nick, and Nick was just grateful to have a friend. “Not that I’m not a fan of having these deep conversations with you, but I think there’s better places than the loo.”
“Yeah, good point,” Nick managed to say while laughing.
While Charlie wiped down the sink of water splatters, Nick grabbed his socks from the radiator. “Not fully dry, but they’ll do.”
“You could do a sockless look. Toes out for the world to see.” Charlie loved getting to tease Nick. It felt so comfortable and close, like Charlie got to have just a bit more privilege in Nick’s life.
Nick groaned. “Just what I need. Someone with a foot fetish joins the horde.”
“It must be so hard to be blessed with both charm and beautiful feet. My deepest sympathies.”
“I actually think I’m on the hunt for a new best friend now.” Nick pulled on his socks with a faux contemplative look. “Maybe Tao. He’d never compliment me, even as a troll.”
Charlie gasped, affronted at the implication. “A troll?! Words have power, Nicholas. I can’t believe you hate me so much.”
“Exact opposite, you troll. Now c’mon, I wanna find a better place to have sappy conversations with you.” Nick grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled him into the hallway. He kept hold as they made their way back to the party.
As they tried to sneak back into the main part of the party, hoping to avoid the notice of any of the girls on the hunt for Nick, they had to make a circuit outside. Almost no one was out there, the temperature discouraging enough to make everyone crowd inside.
They snuck through the side door and looped around the back garden. There was one couple huddled together by a dying fire, evidently willing to endure the elements for the sake of romance. Charlie looked on with something akin to envy, wishing he had someone willing to sit in the cold with him just for some alone time at a party.
Except not the cold because Charlie had very little cold tolerance. Someone who would isolate with him in an equally inconvenient place.
As they approached the back door, which led directly into the main area of the party, Nick stopped abruptly. Charlie crashed into his side, immediately apologising and creating space between them.
But Nick’s attention was elsewhere, fully transfixed on something above them. Charlie looked up too, far too curious to wait for Nick to clue him in.
And there, affixed from the small overhang by the door, was a sprig of mistletoe. It was very clearly plastic, shiny and artificial. The tape holding it in place had come off on one side so it hung precariously from its perch. Charlie had the impulse to just reach up and rip the rest of it off; anything to leave this supremely awkward moment.
Nick, surprisingly, just chuckled. “All this for a little bundle of plastic.”
“We, erm, we can just ignore it.” Charlie’s heart was beating so loud that he wondered if Nick could actually hear his words over the thumping. “I can probably rip it down. I know you’re not…”
“Not what?” Nick was still looking at the little piece of plastic.
“I know you only wanted to kiss one person under the mistletoe. So we can just pretend this didn’t happen. I — you don’t have to worry about me trying to pressure you like everyone else tonight.”
“It’s bad luck.” Nick turned his head back down, cheeks pink and eyes wide.
“What?”
“It’s bad luck to ignore the mistletoe.”
“Nick—“
A hand was suddenly cupping Charlie’s face, rendering him speechless. Nick’s fingers were rough from rugby but held Charlie so gently. He didn’t dare breathe, too scared to disturb whatever was happening.
“Charlie, how do you not know?”
“Wh–what?” Charlie had to consciously work to not nestle into Nick’s palm.
In lieu of an answer, Nick leaned forward, resting his forehead on Charlie’s. Against his will, Charlie’s eyes fluttered shut, breathing shallow.
“It’s you, Char.”
Nick tilted his head down slightly, his lips ghosting against Charlie’s mouth. Charlie grasped at Nick’s waist, needing some way to anchor himself.
Slowly, delicately, Nick pressed his lips to Charlie’s. The sensation was immediate: colours burst behind Charlie’s eyes, his heart began to hum throughout his body. It was unlike anything Charlie had ever felt before, and he was already addicted to it.
They pushed into each other at the same time, deepening the kiss. Were it not for the cold, Charlie could have stayed in this moment forever. Nick was warm and soft and so keen as they kissed. But the wind blew and startled Charlie back to reality, prompting him to pull back.
Nick gave an honest to god whine as they separated, and Charlie knew that noise would live in his mind forever. Nick’s eyes were still closed, the most content smile on his flushed face.
“I’m just cold.” Nick nodded, eyes still closed. “But… I’d love to talk about that. And do more of that. Just somewhere warmer.”
Nick leaned back in for a small peck, and then grabbed Charlie’s hand to pull him back where they came from. All Charlie could do was giggle with surprise and delight.
They spent the rest of the night huddled together in the corner of Sahar’s spare room, door locked to make sure they weren’t interrupted. Nick immediately confessed his feelings and detailed his journey questioning his sexuality over the almost year they’d known each other.
“Everything felt confusing except how I felt about you. I felt so secure in that the whole time,” he admitted with a shy smile.
And Charlie, so sure he would have to deal with an unrequited crush on his best friend for the rest of time, took a while to believe this was real. Nick was more than happy to kiss him until it fully sunk in.
“See, I’m not anti-mistletoe. Not when it’s you underneath.”