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Hello and welcome to tonight’s Late Night Love with Aled Last. Call up, ask me anything, have a rant, or just tell me something new; the evening is yours, dear listener. But tonight we do have a very special competition. A blind date, if you will.
Two lucky listeners will win the chance of a lifetime. A four-night cruise on a grand new ship run by Konstellation Kruises to be wined and dined and treated like royalty. And because it is Pride Month, it’s an LGBTQIA+ cruise!
So to enter, it’s simple. Just call me up and tell me your story; if I think you're worthy, I will give you a ticket. Easy peasy, the phone lines open just after ‘Want Me’ by Baby Queen.
Michael walked into their shared living room, passed Tori a diet lemonade with a straw and no ice, and then flumped down beside her. “I love this song,” he said with a satisfied smile as he rested his head on the back cushions of the sofa.
“Shhh,” she scolded as she typed frantically on her phone.
“Whatcha dooooin?” He rolled slightly towards her, resting his head on her shoulder to peep at the screen.
“Michael, please. I need to concentrate. How shit has Charlie’s life been?” Her tone was more clipped than usual.
“That’s an… interesting topic for a Thursday night, but okay, I’m game. Let's see... Outed, ruthlessly bullied, manipulated, gaslighted, cheated on and made to feel as though he should disappear, all before his fifteenth birthday. Shall I go on?” He asked innocently.
Tori was typing bullet points on her phone, so Michael continued. “He developed anorexia and OCD and started to self-harm, everyone missed it, and he felt invisible. He still had bad days, even after in-patient care, but he seemed a lot better; I think he said it helped pull him out of the deep end, or something along those lines.”
Tori circled her finger to encourage Michael to continue. “After that, he finished school, aced his A Levels, and moved to London. After a bunch of shit partners, he ended up relapsing and taking a year out of his studies to attend the very same inpatient clinic he went to at fifteen. Now he’s twenty four, a bit of a hermit, and works in his friend's bookshop, a total waste of his English degree as he pretends to write his first novel. No more relationships. Now he’s just sad, lonely Charlie Spring.”
As the song ended, Tori picked up her phone.
“You’re not seriously phoning in?” Michael asked in shock.
“You said it yourself, he’s just sad and lonely now,” she replied bluntly. Then she promptly raised up her hand to shush him as her phone started to ring.
“Alright, listeners, you’re back with Aled on ‘Late Night Love.’ We’ve had a few calls through, and we’re going to continue to take them, but there is one call that has come straight through to me. So who are you, and what’s your story, and why should I give you a ticket on this cruise?”
“Hi, I’m Charlie,”
“Hi Charlie, where in the world are you?”
“I live in London, and I work in a bookshop.”
“That’s fantastic, so why do you deserve my cruise ticket?”
“I’m 24, and so far my love life has been crap,” Tori went on to succinctly and eloquently tell Charlie’s story.
Michael sat basically chewing his nails; he knew if Charlie knew this was happening, he’d be absolutely mortified.
When Tori was finished, the radio went silent for a moment; it felt odd, uncomfortable even, “Hello?” Tori added as the silence went on.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m sorry, I’m still here; I’m just reeling from your tale. Thank you. Thank you for being so honest. And dear listener, if anything Charlie has spoken about has triggered you in any way, please find your way to our ‘Late Night Love’ website, and we will signpost you to access help.
“Charlie, I’m so sorry this has happened to you and you have been suffering at the hands of abusive partners for the better part of ten years. Please, may I say, don’t give up; your soulmate is out there; you just need to allow yourself to find them. I’m going to play ‘Ur So Pretty’ by Wasia Project while I discuss with my team.”
The song started to play, and Tori started to breathe again.
“Charlie’s gonna kill you,” Michael murmured as they sat listening to Wasia Project. Tori flopped back on the sofa and closed her eyes, her phone resting on her thigh on speaker.
“Okay, listeners, we’re going to take some more calls. First up, we have James from Cambridge. James, the floor is yours.”
“So you just have to stay on the line while we hear from other people?” Michael asked as he sat forward on the sofa, reaching for his tea.
“Yep,” Tori replied, without opening her eyes.
They sat and listened to James whine on and on about how his boyfriend wants him to give up his pets. Not due to allergies or any ‘real’ reason, says James, but because his house rabbit moults too much and the fur everywhere is too annoying. Even Michael rolled his eyes, as Aled politely explains that sometimes people have different tolerances.
Next up, Sandra was complaining that her husband wants to start to spice up their late-night love time, but she is adamant that at 58 that ship has sailed, and she is filing for divorce. Aled once again speaks in the best neutral tone, which Michael silently applauded.
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Meanwhile, two floors up from Tori’s flat, some rugby lads that she always glared at were having a condolence get-together after losing a match.
“Okay, lovely listeners, we have one final caller, and then I’ll let you decide who I should give my two tickets to. Hello, caller. What’s your name? Tell us your story.”
“Hi, my name is Chri–ouch! Umm, Nick. My name is Nick, and I live in London.”
“Hello, Chri—ouch, Nick from London. Why do you think you deserve a ticket on the cruise?”
“Well, Aled, it all started when I was at school. I didn’t know I was bi at the time, but I had a huge crush on this guy, but he never looked at me twice. Since then, I’ve tried dating, but I’m either too much too soon, or my heart really just isn't in it. I just can’t get this guy from school out of my head.”
“That all sounds very sad, but also, not that interesting. Tell me more, Nick.”
“Okay, umm,” Christian throws the phone to Otis, who looks totally panicked, who passes the phone like a hot potato to Sai, who immediately drops it.
“Come on, man! This is why we lost the game!” Otis exclaimed. Nick dived for the phone, hoping to save a small shred of dignity, but so did Otis. Sai tackled Nick, shoving him into Otis, and all three landed in a heap on the floor.
Chris sauntered over and picked the phone up again with a shit-eating grin on his face “Hello? Aled, are you still there?”
“Hi, Nick, I’m still here. What was all that?”
“Just a bunch of rugby lads dropping the ball. Anyways, my reason for the ticket is this. My last girlfriend, Imogen, said that I was too much. I mean, I gave that girl the world! I romanced the hell out of her, dates, flowers, gifts, you name it, she got it.”
He put his hand on his hip, channelling his inner diva. “And do you know what she did? She fucking cheated on me! But not with some random I’ll never see, oh no. She cheated on me with a player from a rival fucking team! A team I now play each and every fucking season.”
He shook his head, as if everyone listening could see him. “She sits in the stands cheering him on, blowing him kisses and squealing when he scores a try. Honestly, it’s fucking demoralising. And why? Because I was too fucking much.”
Nick pushed Sai and Otis off him, panting with fear and rage, his eyes looking so sad. What Chris had said was brutal, but it was also true. Nick had poured his heart out while the lads had poured the vodka shots the night Imogen left, or rather the night Nick had found the other guys rugby jersey in their flat and put all the pieces together.
“Wow, Nick, she sounds like a piece of work. I’m very sorry for your heartbreak. Okay, alright. I’m gonna throw it open to the listeners. You have four people and four stories. Charlie, Sandra, Bethany, and Nick, sorry James you didn’t make the short list. I have two tickets, so please, while we listen to Baby Queen, cast your vote by texting 81122 with LNL and the names of two people you’d like to win. We’ll then collate all the votes. And announce the lucky winners!”
As the tones of Baby Queen started to play, Nick barely breathed. “I can’t fucking believe you just did that,” he said quietly as if to himself. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” He darted from the floor to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The other lads sat in silence for a few moments and then all simultaneously burst out laughing.
“Chris, you are a legend! He totally needs a push. And putting it all out there like that, he needed to hear it, man,” Sai said, and he slapped Chris on the back and passed him another beer.
“Don’t think he’s coming out of the loo?” Otis said as he slumped into the sofa next to Sai.
“I dunno. I hope so. I really need to piss,” Sai replied.
“Hello listeners, I’m Aled Last, and you’re listening to ‘Late Night Love,’ and tonight we are talking about heartbreak and cruise ships. So without further ado, we have counted and independently verified all of your votes for the following nominees.
Sandra, I’m sorry, you only received 5% of the votes. But Charlie! Wow, with an astonishing 40% of the votes, you have a ticket for my cruise. So that leaves Bethany and Nick.
“Now, to refresh your memories, Bethany is an out and proud lesbian who has just had her partner of 12 years say, and I quote, “I want to try cock now,” which, while that is valid, it’s also earth-shattering for poor Bethany. And we have Nick, who is bi and, by the sounds of it, an absolute disaster. So. Let’s see.
“With 45% of the votes taken up already, I can confirm that Bethany received 27% of the vote, which means by a smidge of a whisker, Nick is our other lucky winner with 28%! Well done, Nick! And you never know, you may even meet our other lucky winner Charlie while out at sea. Thank you to everyone who voted, and we will shortly return to LGBTQIA+ special programming. Tonight’s special guest is a wonderful lady from the trans community; Elle Argent speaks to us about her love and her life living with award-winning film director Tao Xu..."
“Fuuuuuuck!” Nick cried out from the bathroom, only making the lads laugh even more.
“You never know, it might be fun!” Otis shouted to him.
“Fuck you, Otis!” Nick shouted back.
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“Charlie’s going to kill you,” Michael said slowly, and Tori just continued to sip her lemonade with a tiny smirk.
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“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Charlie groaned again as he sat in the back of Tori’s car. “I can’t believe you managed to get me to agree to this; you’re lucky work gave me the last-minute holiday.”
“Oh Charlie, come on, you know Isaac was on my side. There’s no way he would let you miss this cruise.” Once they parked, Michael helped lift Charlie’s suitcase from the boot of the car, and Tori passed Charlie a little docket with his passport and the tickets she had received from the radio station. He walked forwards towards the dock with Tori’s hand on his shoulder blade, pushing him gently forwards, wheeling his suitcase beside him.
“Hello and welcome to the Pride cruise; we hope you enjoy your stay.” Charlie showed the receptionist his ticket, and she checked him in on the ship's system. “Your suite is level two, sea view. Head to the lift in the main reception and follow the corridors to your left.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said quietly as he pocketed his ticket and picked up his room key. The ship was adorned with pride flags for all identities. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as everyone he walked past smiled at him; all the crew seemed friendly and welcoming. He made his way to his cabin and tapped his key card on the panel.
His jaw dropped to the floor. In front of him was the biggest bed he had ever seen. The biggest, softest, fluffiest pillows he had ever seen and the most beautiful towel decoration of two swans and rose petals scattered on the bed. He wheeled his suitcase further in and pushed the door shut with his foot before running and jumping onto the bed, landing face-first in a star shape, allowing his whole body to sink into the softness. After a few moments, his phone started buzzing in his pocket.
“Hello?” He said, although his voice was muffled by the pillow.
“Hello Mr. Spring, it is Amanda from reception just checking everything is to your liking.”
“Yep, yeah, yes. Lovely, thank you,” he mumbled in reply, then promptly hung up and tossed his phone to one side.
He rolled over and flipped onto his back, kicking his legs in delight at just how wonderful his suite was. He suddenly sat up on the bed and decided to explore a little. Complimentary mini bar tick. Complimentary towels, shower gel, and moisturiser, tick. And in the fridge, chocolates and a bottle of champagne chilling, with two champagne glasses on the counter. Weird, he thought, but shrugged it off as he went dancing into the bathroom because he saw the jacuzzi bath he couldn’t wait to dive into.
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Nick pulled his case from the back of the taxi as he grumbled his thanks to the driver. But the truth was the taxi stank of stale booze, and there was a suspicious stain on the seat beside him; the driver had been playing heavy metal music the entire journey, and Nick already had a headache. He took a deep breath in and filled his lungs with the salty sea air as his eyes landed on the huge ship that awaited him. He walked up the ramp, and the kind receptionist gave him a beaming smile as he approached her desk.
“Good morning, I’m Amanda, may I see your ticket, please?”
“Umm, yeah, here you go,” he answered as he fumbled through his bag, muttering to himself because he spied the extra things Chris, Otis, and Sai had snuck in while he was getting showered and dressed. “Fucking lads,” he grumbled as he pulled a string of condoms and stuffed them back down next to the large bottle of lube. Finally he slammed his hand on the counter with his ticket underneath; he was very aware of his hot, flustered appearance.
“Mr. Nelson, your suite is level two, sea view; head to the lift in the main reception and follow the corridors to your left,” she said with a wide smile.
He thanked her and stuffed his ticket back into his bag and picked up the key card, yanking his suitcase that now apparently had a broken wheel behind him. It wasn’t long before he got to the door; he tapped the key card to the panel and pushed the door open. His jaw hit the floor. Had the maids not been in yet? The bed was a mess; what he assumed were once towel swans now looked like half-melted paraplegic birds that were bleeding rose petals over the bed and floor. The sheets were ruffled, and the pillow had definitely had a head on it. The mini bar, thankfully, was stocked, and he spotted the champagne chilling with two glasses, which he briefly thought was weird. And then he heard singing; A man’s voice coming from the bathroom. And he sounded good.
“Hit the road Jack, don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, hit the road Jack, don’t you come back no more.”
Nick toed off his shoes and walked to the bathroom door and pushed it gently open. He didn’t want to startle the person. He peeped one eye through the tiny gap he had created, and he saw a bath full and the water covered in a luscious layer of bubbles that masked the body beneath. Dark curls rested on the side of the bath, a tanned elbow propped over the side, and then a knee slowly moving through the water.
“Hit the road Jack…”
He continued to watch for a moment, he was mesmerised by the voice…a voice he knew… And those curls! He had dreamt about them almost every night for the last decade since Truham. His body was frozen but also prickling with sweat, unsure what was happening. Why the fuck was Charlie Spring, his bi awakening, the literal man of his dreams singing in a bathtub in Nick’s suite on a cruise he had won?
He wasn’t sure what happened, he didn’t see what gave him away, or just how Charlie knew he was there, but all of a sudden there was a huge splash of water, bubbles went flying as the man in the bath hurried to stand and cover himself. The beautiful singing swapped for a strangled, panicked scream. For one glorious second, Nick watched bubbles slide down Charlie’s beautiful body following the lines of his lithe frame… until a bar of soap hit him square between the eyes, followed by the door slamming in his face.
“Nicholas Nelson! What the fuck are you doing here?” Charlie screamed through the door.
Nick should have answered with a reciprocal, what the fuck are you doing here? But his brain was frazzled because Charlie Spring was naked! He was in the next room naked and he knew Nick’s name. The only word he could find in his vocabulary was, “Hi.”
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Nick pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and leaned against the bathroom door. “So sorry!” He called loudly over his shoulder, hoping it was audible over the loud thumps and the stream of Ouch! and Shit! and Fucking Nick NELSON!? coming through the gap under the door. He raised his voice. “I – I didn’t know I’d be sharing a room, and I just – I didn’t mean to walk in on you like that. I swear I wasn’t trying to take a peep! I actually thought someone broke into my room to take a bath, and I didn’t know it was going to be someone I knew, much less you.”
The door behind him disappeared and Nick stumbled backwards, grasping wildly for anything to keep him from falling onto the hard tile. His hands closed around something soft, something that, if he executed a perfect tug, might be able to break his fall, at least a tiny bit.
It was like a slow-motion horror movie when he realized, mid-grab, that it was a towel. And not just any towel – it was the towel. The one around Charlie’s waist.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Charlie screeched, yanking the towel out of Nick’s grubby paws and leaping past him into the bedroom.
A searing pain ripped through Nick’s shoulder when he hit the bathroom’s tile floor, and he immediately knew it was going to be bad. He laid on his side with his eyes squeezed shut for a second, partly to gather himself enough to assess the damage and partly to give Charlie a chance to get that towel back around his waist.
Charlie peered down at him, his wet curls plastered to his forehead, cheeks and chest red from the warmth of the bath, fluffy towel now firmly wrapped around his midsection. “Shit, are you okay?”
Nick tried to push himself up and felt another sharp pain shoot through his arm. Fuck. He winced as he tried to move his arm. “I have an old rugby injury to this shoulder.”
The suspicion in Charlie’s eyes transformed into concern as he watched Nick struggle to sit up. “Uh, give me just a minute to actually get some clothes on and then I’ll help you.” He scurried over to his suitcase and cast a furtive look over his shoulder as he bent to find his pants and a pair of shorts, a teasing smile on his face. “Don’t peep this time.”
A laugh bubbled out of Nick’s throat but somehow that hurt his shoulder as well, so it sounded less like a chuckle of resignation, the kind of thing you would do with a friend, and more like the groan of an injured puppy. Nick hung his head and closed his eyes. This bruise was going to ruin his cruise. He was officially on a bruise cruise. How depressing.
Charlie walked over hesitantly and dropped on his knees next to Nick, looking at him with large eyes. “At some point, we’re going to have to have a conversation about why we’re in this room together, but for now, maybe I’ll just help you to your feet and make sure you’re comfortable on the bed?”
Nick nodded, cradling his bad arm to his chest. Charlie reached down and slid one hand into Nick’s, his other wrapping around Nick’s forearm. Nick felt the heat of Charlie’s hands down to his bones. Charlie kept his warm fingers wrapped around Nick’s elbow and led him over to the bed, which he patted, arranging some pillows on the back for Nick to lean against.
“Thanks,” Nick said, wincing at the throb that was already stretching up his neck and into the back of his head.
Once he was settled on the bed, Charlie stepped back and looked at him carefully. “So…um. Well, I guess. Do you want to just rest here and I’ll go check to see if they have any pain meds at the infirmary? And if you need anything like…I dunno, an extra pillow I can grab one for you?”
“That’s really nice, thanks. You don’t have to do all that.” Nick sucked in a sharp breath when he tried to scoot back on the bed, which made the crease between Charlie’s eyebrows deepen.
“I basically just broke your arm. It’s the least I could do.”
Nick shook his head. “You didn’t, but pain meds and an extra pillow or two would be very nice.”
Charlie was relieved to have something tangible to focus on. He found his key card and slipped on his shoes, gave a little wave over his shoulder, and disappeared into the ship. He walked quickly, muttering to himself. What were the chances that he ended up in some kind of luxury suite that had been mistakenly double-booked with none other than his high school fantasy crush, Nick Nelson? Nick, the one Charlie had pined over from afar for so long. Nick, who had somehow managed to get more fit over the last few years, whose eyes and smile were just as kind as before, if a little weary.
Charlie stepped onto the deck, the banner of Pride flags flapping overhead, one for every possible orientation, a beautiful array of colors strung across the deck.
Charlie peered at the flags, at the very open queerness of the boat – the cheeky names of the different wings and the nightly drag shows, the show-tune singalongs and campy movie nights.
He stopped in his tracks. Wait a minute.
Why was Nick Nelson–the very boy who convinced Charlie that straight-boy crushes were never worth it–on a queer cruise?
Was he…? No, certainly not. Certainly not. Right? That…that would… Uh. That would change things.
Gratefully, he spotted the infirmary at the end of the hall and remembered what he was supposed to be doing, which was finding a way to help Nick, not spiraling into gay panic. He picked up a couple extra-strength pill packets, some for daytime and some that included a sleep aid, and, after explaining the situation to the kind nurse behind her desk, accepted the offered sling, just in case.
And then, before he returned to his room, he popped into the customer service office to inquire about whether the double-booking error could be remedied. It’s not that he didn’t like Nick or anything, but sharing a room–a bed–with someone who was practically a stranger, even a very attractive former crush, wasn’t exactly what Charlie had signed up for.
Except, apparently, it was what he signed up for. Or, at least, what he had been signed up for.
“Yes Mr. Spring, you and Mr. Nelson won the honeymoon suite as part of our Pride package! Are the accommodations not to your liking?”
Charlie stammered out a, “No, no, they’re lovely,” and backed out of the office.
Okay, so apparently this was happening.
Charlie wound his way back to his room and stood outside of the door, weighing whether he should knock or not. It was his room too, but…
“Come in?” Nick called out.
Charlie poked his head in the room, finding Nick exactly where he left him twenty minutes ago, sitting awkwardly in the bed, cradling his right arm in his left. Nick grimaced as he swallowed four pills, thanking Charlie for picking them up. After examining the sling, he decided it probably made sense to wear, even just for a day or two, until he had a better sense of how bad his injury was.
Nick looked nervously at his linen button up shirt and then back to Charlie, who was hovering by the side of the bed, clutching the sling. “Erm, I…I’m so sorry, this is honestly one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life, I swear to god, but can you... I’m just not sure I can unbutton this one-handed, and I’ll probably just go to bed anyway. Do you think you could help me?” He sighed and looked toward the heavens, his cheeks pinkening. “Can you help me unbutton my shirt?”
Charlie’s eyes widened. Of course. Of course Nick wouldn’t be able to dress and undress himself. Jesus, what was his life?
Would he have to help Nick change out of his trousers too? Into and out of the shower? He..would he have to help Nick use the bathroom? He felt his own cheeks warming. Seeing Nick’s body was pretty high on his list of unrealized life goals, but he kind of hoped it would be under different circumstances. Ones that were consensual and didn’t involve 500MG extra-strength painkillers.
He realized he hadn’t answered Nick, shaking his head lightly. “Of course, sure. Do you want to…erm, shall I get your pajamas? From your bag?”
Nick sighed heavily. “If you don’t mind, that would be great. God I’m so sorry I walked in on you. Now I’ve ruined your entire vacation.”
“It’s fine, honestly. I don’t know anyone else on this boat. It’s kind of nice to find a,” Charlie hesitated and glanced at Nick uncertainly. “A friend? An old friend?”
Nick smiled at him and nodded. “For sure. An old friend. And I don’t know anyone here either. If we’d just run into each other by the pool I would’ve been thrilled, truly.”
Charlie unzipped Nick’s suitcase, and right on top, like it had been set in a place of great honor, was an entire row of condoms and an unopened bottle of lube. His eyebrows shot into his hairline. Okay. This didn’t have to be weird. He didn’t have to make things weird.
“Oh god you’ve found the condoms and the lube haven’t you,” Nick groaned from the bed.
Charlie bit his lip and tried to suppress his giggle. “Looks like somebody had high hopes for this trip.”
Nick’s entire body had just caught flame. First he walked in on Charlie during his bath, then tried to grab his towel off of his naked body, and then accosted him with condoms and lube? Jesus, he probably seemed like a sexual predator. “I swear to god Charlie, it’s not what it looks like.”
Charlie looked anywhere except at Nick. “It’s fine, I have the same in my bag, too. They’re just…a little more hidden.”
“No, my mates snuck them in, I honestly just–” Nick cut himself off. Even the pain throbbing through his shoulder and the waves of mortifying shame didn’t keep that little tidbit of information from breaking through. “Wait, you packed condoms and lube too?”
“It’s a queer cruise, Nick, of course I did,” Charlie scoffed.
Nick covered his eyes with his good hand and laughed. “I packed my own as well–also hidden. The ones on top were just added by the lads at the last minute.”
“Cheers, best of luck to both of us then,” Charlie giggled, tossing the condoms aside and fishing through the bag to find what Nick described as ‘any random tee-shirt and the plaid pajama bottoms.’ He pulled them out and helped Nick to his feet. They stood face to face for a second, Charlie’s fingers hovering near the top button of Nick’s shirt. “So just…unbutton this then?”
Nick was a couple inches taller than Charlie. He bent his head down so he could see where Charlie’s fingers hovered, right in the middle of his sternum. It was just a shirt. Just a few buttons. If the cruise hadn’t started with a shoulder injury, he’d have his tits out on the deck by now. But this felt almost intimate, having someone undress him in a dark bedroom. He swallowed, hoping it didn’t give away just how nervous he suddenly was. “If you don’t mind?”
Charlie’s nimble fingers worked their way down Nick’s shirt, carefully undoing each button. His voice was a bit breathy when he spoke again. “I’m going to take your shirt off now.”
Nick steeled himself. For pain, literal pain, and for what he already knew was going to become the return of his raging crush on Charlie Spring the second their skin touched. “Please be gentle with me,” he said quietly.
“I promise,” Charlie affirmed. He slipped his cool fingers under the fabric, leaving a trail of electric tingles dancing along Nick’s skin. He pushed the shirt over Nick’s shoulders and watched it float silently to the ground. Charlie grabbed the sleep shirt from Nick’s suitcase and, after pulling the neck hole over Nick’s head, gently maneuvered the sleeves, pausing every time Nick hissed in pain and then cautiously starting again.
Once the shirt was in place, Charlie took two quick steps back and blew out a loud exhale, like he’d just dismantled a bomb with only seconds to spare. The tips of his ears were bright red. “Um, I’m…I’m gonna go now,” he squeaked, backing up toward the door to the room. “You sleep well–I’ll uh, yeah! I’ll figure something out and see you in the morning!” He whirled around and opened the door to their room, and then, before Nick could even respond, he was gone.
Nick stared at the door for a second, waiting for Charlie to pop back in, but he didn’t, so eventually Nick made his way to the bathroom and, in a feat of superhuman strength, unbuttoned his trousers, emptied his bladder, changed into his pajama pants, washed his face and brushed his teeth one-handed. After assessing the situation, Nick decided that a pillow wall right down the middle of the bed would be the best way to keep him from accidentally turning over in his sleep and aggravating his shoulder. The sleep aid in the pills Charlie had given him must’ve been powerful, because within ten minutes, he was dead to the world.