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I’m vaguely aware of a small patch of drool under my chin. The sound of Netflix trailers, playing on loop in the background, some explosion or other rousing me from my slumber. I try and stifle a yawn and end up taking a large lungful of air through my nose. I’m suddenly struck by the scent of sandalwood and musk.
Nick
Shit, I must have fallen asleep on him again. As consciousness returns more fully, I can see the white pillow I’m rested on is in fact my best friend’s, frankly magnificent, t-shirted pec. I try and shift, but a strong arm pulls me closer, and Nick rubs the beginning of his stubble lightly across my forehead.
Guess, I’m fully trapped, then.
It is certainly not the first time this has happened, and Nick never seems to mind that his gay nerd of a best friend has once again turned him into a human sized cuddly toy, to snuggle into, as I nap.
‘I sleep better when you’re here, anyway Char. Don’t worry about it.’
But he’s always pink and looks a little embarrassed whenever we wake up like this, and I wonder if he just doesn’t want to make me feel bad.
Only, I do feel bad. Or at least I feel bad that it makes me feel so good.
I’m not sure when exactly I fell in love with Nick Nelson, but it’s been at least a couple of years now. More like three I suppose, since I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with him for almost as long as I’ve known him.
He’s back from Leeds after his 1st year at Uni and we’ve spent pretty much every day together since he returned. It’s Friday night and I’m 18 now, so I really should be able to stay out without fear of repercussions from my well-meaning, but overbearing mother, but I still worry how late it’s got and how many missed calls or texts I’ll have.
I manage to lean over Nick’s substantial frame and pick up my phone, it’s only 10.30, and so far only one message.
Mum: When will you be home?
I struggle to reply left handed.
Charlie: not sure, i’m just watching films with nick. don’t worry i've got my key, you don’t need to stay up.
I don’t wait to see if she replies. I’ve done my duty and got back to her out of courtesy, since: ‘It’s only polite while you’re living under our roof Charlie. I worry about you.’ But I don’t need to get into a back and forth with her, or provide her a running commentary on my schedule. I’ll be leaving for UCL at the end of the summer anyway, so she’ll have to get used to not keeping constant tabs on my whereabouts.
Nick shifts a little under me and I think again about how I should really extricate myself from such an intimate position. Only I really, really don’t want to. He’s warm and firm but with just the perfect amount of give and my head is tucked so wonderfully under his shoulder. I draw my hand back from where I placed my phone on the bed, and struggle to decide where I should rest it.
I think it was on his upper abdomen before, or maybe his chest. That was OK when I put it their subconsciously, but now, I feel very aware of where, exactly, I can touch him. In the end I tuck it up under my own chin. Yes, my hand is rested on him still, but it doesn’t feel like I’m actively trying to cop a feel in this position.
Nick’s arm that was clasped around my shoulder shifts a little lower to my waist and his free arm takes its place around my back, so I’m now locked in a possessive bear hug from my sleeping and unaware bed-mate.
Christ. Imagine what it would feel like to have Nick do this to you on purpose. It feels so good by accident.
I try to think deeply un-sexy thoughts as I feel a coil of excitement from deep in my lower belly, since that really would mean I need to leave.
I tilt my head upward, just a touch, so I can examine the profile of his face. His strong jaw and the cute curve of his nose, his high cheekbones and long brown eyelashes that flutter with the rapid eye movement of his sleep.
God, he’s so beautiful.
I close my eyes and try to will myself back to sleep. Is it wrong that I just want to stay here with him all night?
Am I taking advantage of our friendship and his good nature by wishing to bask a little longer in his light?
Maybe.
Maybe I should leave.
This time I make an actual exerted effort to free myself from his embrace and the movement wakes him.
“Char?”
“We fell asleep. It’s getting late. I should probably head home.”
I shift upward to sitting and look back down at him. He looks right at me but doesn’t say a word for the longest moment.
I could get lost in those eyes. Honey brown and warm.
He grabs my shoulder and playfully pulls me back on to his chest.
“Just stay Charlie, I want you to be here.”
“Nick, it’s late, I really should head home.”
“Why? You’ll just be back here in the morning. Stay with me. I’ll get you some joggers and there’s bound to be a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”
Sometimes I wonder if he just forgets that sharing a bed with him might mean something different to me. That he really doesn’t have a clue how attractive he is. Even though I hope he has no indication how desperately I pine for him, you’d think it might at least cross his mind that I’m very gay and he’s very hot and that slipping into his clothes and then into his bed might stir something in me.
But I suppose it’s sweet. That he’s never been bothered by anything like that. That to him, I’m just his best friend, that he cares about, and it doesn’t occur to him that there should be any awkwardness at all about being this close to him all night long. Not to mention when I wake with my inevitable 18 year old morning glory, that I pray I will not be pressing into Nick’s side.
“OK, Nick. I’ll stay.” Because who am I kidding? I can’t say no to him.
I text my mum to let her know that I’m going to sleep here and after I brush my teeth, I slip into Nick’s oversized joggers that practically drown my slight frame, then I slide into the bed next to him.
Somewhat to my surprise, he lifts his arm without hesitation, offering his body as my pillow once more, and I snuggle in beside him.
Even more to my surprise, he plants a delicate kiss in my curls and wishes me goodnight.
Moments later I feel the pads of his finger circle at the bottom of my sleeve where it cuts across my bicep. He’s toying with the hem and the contact is shooting sparks down my spine. I want to question what he’s doing but I fear that might make him stop, and I really don’t want him to stop.
I shift my hips back a little because there’s no way I can stop myself from firming up at this contact.
After a while his fingers stop their trail, and his breathing slows and steadies.
I feel I could burst with the love I feel for him. Like the words are desperate to leave my throat. I tilt my head again and check his eyes are firmly closed, and I realise - I can say it to him now.
As we lie in the dark. It could be a secret between me and his subconscious.
“Nick?"
No response.
"Nick... I...I... I’m so in love with you. I just wanted you to know... Well, not really, not when I know you can’t feel it back. But I wanted to say it, out loud for once. Nick, I... I know you can’t hear me, and I’d never tell you for real but God, I love you, so, so much.”
To my absolute horror, Nick shifts beneath me, withdrawing his arm from where my head was rested and lies on his side, eyes wide open. I’m on my side too and he stares at me, as I’m frozen in fear.
Fuck.
“I’m so sorry, Nick, I’ll go.”
His hand reaches for my face and then into the thatch of hair at the back of my head.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m so embarrassed, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said it...”
But his thumb swipes across my cheek and his tongue darts out to wet his lips and I notice his breathing is shallow and rapid, and he looks at me with a hunger I’d never seen in him till now.
“Nick?”
He’s leaning toward me, his forehead on mine. I can feel his breath against my lips.
“Say that again, I didn’t quite hear you.”
His thumb runs along my lower lip and I can feel the trajectory of my life is about to change course.
“I... I love you.”
There’s a pause. He pulls back and the smile on his face seems to be radiating from his eyes. The telltale crinkle at their corner, that appears when he’s really happy, more pronounced than I ever remember seeing it before.
“Yeah, I love you too. So much.”
His lips find mine and whatever questions or doubts or worries I’d been filled with until now fade.
He’s Nick and I’m Charlie, and he loves me every bit as much as I love him.