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Chapter 1
Present Day
The first thing Nick notices is that Charlie has already packed everything from his bedside table. Their collection of books, his alarm clock and his lip balm. His charger has been removed from the socket and his earbuds are gone. The room looks gut wrenchingly empty. But the thing that hits Nick square in the chest — sharp and sudden, stealing the air from his lungs — is the sight of Pugly propped against the pillows, left behind.
Charlie has packed his beloved Kitty, but not Pugly.
Nick swallows thickly, pushing back the tears that threaten to fall.
“Sorry,” Charlie says, like he’s followed the line of Nick’s gaze. “I didn’t know if you— I mean. I can leave some books?”
Nick shakes his head, a little too quickly. “No, no. They’re yours really, I never did read them.”
Nick’s mouth half smiles, but inside he feels like his heart is shredding into thousands of tiny pieces, never to be mended again. His chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe, and a nauseous feeling churns low in his stomach, sharp and unrelenting. He leans on the door frame for support.
“You can take Pugly too, if you want?” Nick says, his voice cracking. He really doesn’t like the thought of Kitty and Pugly being split up.
“No, he can stay with you,” Charlie says with a forced smile.
Nick’s heart doesn’t just break into even more pieces — it fractures completely until there’s nothing left of it that remains undamaged.
Charlie zips up his bag then shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie—the green one, the soft, worn one that used to be Nick’s. Nick has this strange, detached thought that he doesn’t remember when it stopped being his and became Charlie’s. He wants him to take it though, hoping that maybe it’ll remind him of Nick.
“I’ve done most of it,” Charlie says. “Kitchen’s — um. Sorted. I boxed a few things.”
“Right.” Nick nods. “Thanks.”
Charlie hovers for a second, like he might sit on the bed, like he might not. Eventually, he just stays standing. He’s expressionless, but Nick knows it’s the face he schools when he’s covering up how he’s really feeling. Over the years he’s learnt to read Charlie’s expressions — what every single frown or half smile means — like a language only he could understand.
It would be easier if one of them were angry. It would be easier if they yelled at each other. It would be easier if somebody had done something wrong. It would be easier if there was a proper reason. Even though it’s final, it doesn’t feel like closure. Or maybe it is, and Nick just doesn’t want to accept it.
“I can come back later for the rest,” Charlie says. “Or — I mean, if you’d rather not be here, I can—”
“No,” Nick interrupts, “it’s fine. I don’t mind being here.”
Fuck. When have they ever been this awkward around each other? How did it get to this — Charlie wanting to avoid Nick?
Nick thought they’d be Nick and Charlie forever. Actually, he didn’t just think it, he felt it.
Charlie nods. “Okay.”
Nick sighs. “Do you… need help carrying anything down?”
The question hangs there between them, suspended in the tension.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” Charlie’s voice cracks.
He clears his throat and there’s a pause, while he seems to gather himself together.
“I think this might be the most British breakup of all time.”
Nick smiles out of habit, but it fades just as quickly. Smiling feels unnatural. Nick can’t imagine it ever feeling normal again.
“Probably,” he says.
Charlie shifts his weight, glancing toward the hallway. “I should — um, go.”
“Right. Yeah.”
Neither of them moves.
Nick tenses his jaw, fighting the tears that will certainly come. It feels wrong, all of it — like something that shouldn’t have happened, something that wasn’t meant to end this way.
“Charlie,” he says.
Charlie looks up immediately. “Yeah?”
Nick opens his mouth.
There are so many things he could say. Stay. Don’t go like this. We can fix it. I’ll try harder. Tell me what you need. I miss you already, even when you’re right here.
Instead, what comes out is:
“Text me when you get there.”
Charlie’s expression flickers briefly.
“Yeah,” he says. “I will.”
He steps forward then, like he’s going to hug Nick, and for a second Nick thinks — hopes — that he will. But Charlie stops just short, like he’s hit an invisible line.
“Um.” Charlie gestures vaguely. “Okay then.”
Charlie swallows. Then he throws his rucksack on his back, picks up a box and brushes past Nick through the doorway. He turns, his eyes watery.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
And walks out of Nick's life. Forever.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Nick crumples onto the bed — their bed — his tears spilling out of him in relentless waves. He clutches Pugly to his chest tightly, like the stuffed dog might somehow ease the pain in his heart, as his body folds in on itself and each sob tears through his chest. The ache is unbearable, sharp, and hollow. He inhales Pugly's scent and he realises that the familiar smell — achingly theirs — is the last thing he has left of Charlie.
How did it come to this?
How can he live without Charlie?
He notices the empty washing basket and breaks down again, his sobs so fierce and all consuming that he struggles to catch his breath.
He’ll never get to hug him again. He’ll never get to smell his skin, never get to brush his curls from his forehead, never get to feel his heartbeat as they lay in bed, limbs entangled.
He tries to take a few deep breaths and grabs a tissue from his bedside table. He notices the framed photo booth pictures of them at the beach from way back when they were younger. He picks it up, holding it tenderly in his hands. They look so young, so free, so happy.
When did they stop choosing each other? How did they not notice it was happening?
~*~*~*~
Chapter 2
One month earlier…
Charlie is startled awake. Shit, what was that? Another bang. He pushes himself up, heart hammering, eyes adjusting to the dark. As he comes to, the first thing he notices is the empty space beside him — Nick’s side of the bed. A dull clatter follows — Nick’s phone hitting the laminate in the hallway, no doubt.
Then comes Nick’s voice, thick and slurred:
“Oooops. Shit.”
Charlie drags a hand over his face and flops back onto the pillow. He turns to look at the alarm clock - 2.17am. For fuck’s sake.
This is not the first time that this big, drunken rugby oaf hasn’t been able to creep in quietly, as he promised he would. Usually Charlie finds it funny. Endearing even. Usually it wouldn’t matter.
Tonight, it matters.
Charlie groans. It’s going to take him ages to get back to sleep, and he’s got to be up early in the morning. He’s giving a talk to teenagers with eating disorders. Despite working with the charity for a couple of years now, it’s the first time that he’s presenting, so he’s a little nervous.
He closes his eyes, and tries to drift off again. Nope. He hears every footstep on every fucking stair. The bedroom door creaks. He then hears Nick faffing about, taking loose change out of his pocket, undoing his belt, unzipping his jeans infuriatingly fucking slowly, wrestling with his T-shirt, and then staggering towards the bathroom. Could he be any louder?
Eventually, it goes quiet.
Charlie inhales slowly, then exhales, trying to steady himself. He imagines white sand and turquoise water stretching out in front of him, the soft hush of waves curling around his ankles, the gentle breeze—
The bed suddenly dips hard as Nick collapses into it.
Charlie startles, eyes flying open once again.
“Jesus Christ, Nick,” he mutters, his voice slicing through the dark.
“Sorryyyyyyy Char,” Nick stage whispers, placing a sloppy kiss on Charlie’s forehead.
“You know I have to be up early.” Charlie grumbles, wiping the kiss off with the back of his hand.
“I did try to be quiet,” Nick slurs, his mouth tripping up over the words.
“No you bloody didn’t,” Charlie replies shortly.
Charlie grabs the duvet, squashes Kitty and Pugly under his arm, and turns his back to Nick.
“Charrrrlliiieeee,” Nick sings, infuriatingly loudly. He slings his arm over Charlie‘s chest and starts kissing his neck.
Fuck's sake.
“Nick, go to sleep,” Charlie orders firmly.
“But I’m horny,” Nick whines, pressing his body into Charlie’s back.
“Well you’re just gonna have to stay horny. It’s the middle of the fucking night and I’ve got to be up in a few hours. I need a decent night's sleep.”
“We never do it anymore,” Nick huffs, turning over.
Charlie grits his teeth, wanting to suggest that maybe if they actually went up to bed together…
They’ve both been running on fumes for months — Nick staying up late marking exams and planning extra tutoring sessions, Charlie taking on extra projects at work, because every extra penny earned felt like another brick in the life they’re building together.
They’re exhausted. All the time.
But it’s only temporary. It will be worth it.
It has to be worth it.
So Charlie says nothing.
He always says nothing.
The silence between them feels wrong somehow, stretched tight and fragile in the dark. Charlie hates fighting with Nick. Even this — this low, tired bickering — leaves a sour ache in his chest.
And lately it keeps on happening.
Nick’s breathing evens out quickly beside him, drifting toward sleep with frustrating ease. A few minutes later, soft snores begin rumbling through the room.
Charlie stares up at the ceiling, wide awake.
He pulls Kitty and Pugly into his chest, clutching them tightly for comfort, but even that doesn’t settle the restless feeling under his skin.
Nick’s snores bounce off the bedroom walls while Charlie lies there tense and lonely beside him, close enough to touch but feeling so far away.
For one awful moment, he wants to scream.
///
The first thing Charlie notices is that Nick’s expression isn’t quite right. Like it’s taking effort to maintain the smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Thanks, Char,” Nick says. There’s no warmth to it though. He doesn’t sound ungrateful, but he doesn’t exactly sound grateful either.
In his hands: a new set of muffin tins.
Charlie’s stomach dips. Okay, so maybe he’d run out of time. Work has just been manic lately with all the extra hours he’s been doing, and with his charity work and his running… and they’d agreed not to splurge while they were trying to save for their own house. So maybe it’s not the most romantic birthday gift in the world. But Nick loves baking. He’d mentioned needing new ones. And Charlie thought it would be a nice gift.
Nick turns the box over once, twice, like he’s trying to find the right reaction somewhere on the packaging.
“You said you needed a new one,” Charlie adds, a little too quickly, the defensiveness slipping in before he can stop it.
“Yeah — yeah, I do. Thanks, babe.” Nick leans in, presses a quick kiss to Charlie’s cheek.
It’s soft. Familiar.
And yet somehow, completely unfamiliar.
They linger there for a second too long, the space between them stretching thin and strange.
“Right, well… I’d better get in the shower,” Nick says, with another smile that doesn’t look like it’s his.
Before Charlie can respond, Nick’s already moving — brushing past him, heading for the stairs, gone before the moment can settle into anything else.
Charlie stays where he is.
He knows. Of course he knows. He didn’t really make the effort this year. Not like last time — cooking for him, writing that stupid song he’d been so nervous to play, organising the surprise with all their friends at the pub.
Charlie inhales a deep breath. The niggling feeling that keeps scratching away at his brain is back again. Are they really happy?
Nick has been baking a lot recently, which Charlie knows is a sign of stress. But they’re both busy. Both stressed. They’re saving for their future — for their own home, a dog… to start their happy ever after. But maybe, in spending so much time planning for the future, they’re missing something in the present.
And since when does Nick not ask him to go in the shower with him on a Saturday morning?
The questions settle on Charlie‘s heart, heavy and unwelcome.
///
Later that evening, Nick and Charlie sit in front of the TV, takeaway boxes scattered across the coffee table. They sit at either end of the sofa, both on their phones. Not speaking.
Charlie knows something feels off. He just doesn’t want to bring it up. Especially not on Nick's birthday.
“Shall I open a bottle of red?” He suggests.
He guesses that might make it seem more of a celebration.
“Nah, I’m okay thanks,” Nick replies, not looking up from his phone.
Charlie can’t stand this. He’s going to have to tackle this thing head on. He takes a deep breath.
“Are you okay?”
Nick looks up. He pauses.
“Yeah, just tired.” He sighs.
Right, okay. So they aren’t tackling whatever this is.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 3
Six months earlier…
The first thing Nick notices as he steps through the door is Charlie, sitting at their small table, hunched over his laptop.
“Hey.” Charlie looks up with a smile. “Good day?”
“Hey,” Nick replies, hanging his jacket up and then walking over to kiss his boyfriend hello.
“Mmm,” Charlie hums happily into the kiss, before gently pulling away and turning his attention back to his screen. “Sorry, just give me a moment…”
“Whatcha doing?” Nick asks as he fills the kettle.
Charlie doesn’t reply and when Nick looks over his shoulder, he can see one of Charlie's dimples, grinning as he picks up his phone, fingers quickly flying across the screen.
“Char?” Nick prods.
“Hmmm? Oh, sorry! Just texting Isaac.” He’s still grinning as he puts his phone down and turns to face Nick. “We’ve just booked the cutest cottage for our weekend away!”
Nick pauses, teabag hovering over his mug. “Your weekend away?” he asks, frowning.
Charlie rolls his eyes. “Don’t act all surprised,” he says, rising from his seat and coming to wrap his arms around Nick. “I told you about this. We’re going to stay in the Peak District and do a Pride and Prejudice tour!”
Nick loves seeing the way Charlie’s eyes light up, the dimple on his cheek, the way his body almost vibrates with excitement. But despite that, his heart sinks a little.
“I didn’t think—” he starts. He takes a breath and turns back to their mugs, sitting side by side on the worktop, and busies himself making tea. Charlie’s arms drop from around his waist.
“I thought we were going to look at the calendar, see when I could join you?” Nick continues, finding it easier to talk without Charlie’s deep blue eyes staring at him.
Charlie sighs. “Nick,” he whines, arms wrapping around him again.
Nick can picture Charlie’s expression so clearly but he doesn’t dare turn around. He doesn’t want Charlie to see how much this hurts. Doesn’t want anything to dampen Charlie’s excitement.
“You don’t care about Pride and Prejudice—"
“I cared very much seeing Matthew Macfadyen all wet and brooding!”
Charlie thunks his head on Nick’s shoulder with a groan. “See! I knew you weren’t paying attention. We’re doing a tour of the locations used in the Colin Firth TV series! Not the Keira Knightley film one.”
“Oh.” is all Nick manages to say, feeling thoroughly chastised.
“Exactly,” Charlie says, like that settles it, like that’s reason enough to leave Nick behind. “You’d get bored. We want to see as much as we can and we’ve only got two days to do it. Trust me, you’d hate it.”
Nick almost laughs, because that’s the part Charlie’s got completely wrong. He wants to say that two whole days with Charlie — even with Isaac there — sounds pretty perfect, actually. That maybe he doesn’t care specifically about the halls and parks and whatever details Charlie’s excited about, but he does care about watching Charlie light up over them.
He wants to ask if Charlie really thinks he’s so uncultured that he couldn’t enjoy it anyway, enjoy grand old houses and gardens, even without knowing all the references? Especially with Charlie there beside him?
He wants to ask when was the last time they made time for a weekend away? What with Charlie’s volunteering, Nick’s U11 rugby team and his own social team…
But he doesn’t say anything.
He plasters a smile on his face and turns to hand Charlie his tea.
“Will I at least get Pugly that weekend?” he jokes.
Charlie laughs and kisses him, soft and slow. “Of course, and if it’ll help, I’ll even leave Kitty to snuggle too.”
///
“You’ve what?”
The first thing Nick notices is the way Charlie’s expression hardens. His jaw tightens and his eyes flash. Nick can hear the warning in his head screaming ‘danger, danger’.
Nick shifts uncomfortably, but forces himself to keep his head held high. “I’ll only be a few hours, probably no more than two.”
“But you’re not even a Year Six teacher, Nick!”
“No, but they needed—”
“And you knew I had a concert that night!”
“Well, yeah but—”
Nick cuts himself off abruptly. Charlie’s face has changed. He’d been braced for more anger. This though… This is something far worse.
Hurt.
“It’s fine,” Charlie mumbles, already turning away and heading up the stairs.
“Char—”
“I said it’s fine. I’ll ask… I’ll see if Tao can come help or… or maybe Sahar’s brother if he’s coming anyway.”
Nick follows Charlie to their room, but stops at the doorway, hovering there like he’s not sure he’s allowed in.
“Char,” he starts again, but Charlie is already shaking his head.
He refuses to look at Nick, instead fussing with some nonexistent mess — straightening his books, lining his headphones up, even lifting Pugly and Kitty from their spot on the bed, only to set them back against the pillows a moment later.
“I just don’t get why it had to be you,” he says quietly. “It’s always you.”
Nick scuffs his foot across the carpet. “You know I hate saying no to the Head.”
Charlie looks up then, and the sadness in his eyes hits harder than anything else.
“But you’re okay saying no to me,” he whispers.
The words hit Nick hard like a punch to the heart.
Nick swallows. “It’s not like that, Char.”
The words feel thin, even to him.
There was a time that nothing, not even Mrs Arnold’s most intense stare, would have made him miss one of Charlie’s gigs. He knows how nervous Charlie gets beforehand, even if those nerves are unfounded, even if he’s always amazing.
Nothing could have kept Nick from being there — to support him, to cheer him on, to carry his drums and hold his hand. To pull him into his arms afterwards and murmur how proud he is.
So why did he agree to chaperone the Year Six Leavers barbeque?
Nick’s not even sure he understands why.
He loves Charlie. So much. If there’s one thing he never doubts, it’s his love for Charlie. They’re endgame.
Nick’s eyes drift to Pugly propped against the pillows.
They’re meant to be.
He just… He didn’t think.
He seems to be doing a lot of that lately.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 4
Two years earlier…
The front door bursts open without warning, and Charlie jolts, his book slipping from his hands as his heart stutters wildly in his chest.
The first thing he notices when Nick steps inside is how unfairly good he looks — hair tousled, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, his t-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest.
“Honey, I’m—” Nick starts, then cuts himself off the moment he spots Charlie sprawled across the sofa, still trying to get his pulse under control.
He pauses mid-motion, one trainer already kicked off and the other dangling half-loose from his foot. “You okay, Char?”
He’s smirking as he toes off the second shoe.
“You scared me!” Charlie protests, hand clutched to his chest like the dramatic fool he feels. “I thought you were going to the pub after training?”
Nick just shrugs and then, without warning, he vaults over the back of the sofa, landing squarely on top of Charlie and squashing him into the cushions.
“I missed you too much,” he murmurs between kisses.
Any complaints Charlie might have had about being crushed under his giant oaf of a boyfriend dissolve instantly as Nick’s mouth drifts along his jaw, slow and deliberate, before settling on that one spot that always makes Charlie gasp.
He squirms beneath him, but there’s no mistaking the action for what it is; Charlie pushing closer, chasing the warmth and the friction and the feeling of Nick everywhere.
Sometime later, they’re lying on the sofa, legs intertwined and their breathing still heavy. Nick’s completely naked apart from his socks. Charlie’s jeans are half away across the room, but his boxers barely made it half way down his thighs, so he now shimmies them back up as he nuzzles into Nick’s chest.
“Fucking love life,” Nick sighs contentedly.
Charlie laughs, his happiness bubbling up inside him until it spills over, unable to be contained.
They lie in peaceful silence for a few minutes as their heart rates return to normal. Charlie’s eyes are growing heavy, and the pattern Nick is drawing on his bare back is only making him sleepier.
He’s trying to force himself to open his eyes — to push up from Nick’s warm embrace and make the long trek to the bathroom to get ready for bed — when Nick’s fingers suddenly stop.
It’s jarring enough that Charlie stirs from his half asleep state.
“Char?” Nick says, his tone questioning.
“Hmmm?” is all Charlie can manage in return.
“Why are Pugly and Kitty sitting on the curtain rail?”
Charlie can hear the smile in Nick’s voice, can picture the way his eyes are crinkled in amusement.
Charlie buries his grin in Nick’s armpit hair — briefly thinking that it should be illegal to be this in love with someone’s smelly armpit.
“They were gonna wait up for you,” he mumbles.
“You were hiding them from me, you mean!”
Suddenly Nick is tickling him, and Charlie is very much awake again as he squeals and bats Nick’s hands away.
They’re both laughing as they tumble onto the floor. And then Nick’s no longer tickling Charlie, but kissing him — deep and sweet and with so much emotion that Charlie’s heart might burst.
He really fucking loves their life.
///
“Hey babe!” Charlie shouts after swiping to accept Nick’s incoming call. His car windows are down, and Tao and Isaac are already bickering.
The first thing Charlie notices is the tightness in his boyfriend’s greeting.
“You okay?” Charlie asks, waving a hand to quiet the others.
“Yeah. Yeah. Absolutely,” Nick says, voice unsteady. “Just wanted to say hi. And… hope you guys have fun. You nearly there?”
Charlie knows Nick better than he knows the back of his hand — his smiles, his laughs, and especially when something’s off.
“Nick, what’s wrong?”
The car falls silent as Tao and Isaac finally clock on to Charlie’s concern.
“Nick?”
There’s a low hiss of a sigh, before Nick’s overly cheerful voice fills the car. “Nothing’s wrong! I just wanted to say hi, and I love you, and that my dad’s just called to ask if I’ll meet him for dinner tonight.”
Charlie’s momentarily too stunned to speak. Nick’s dad lives just outside Paris — how the hell does he expect that to work when Nick’s in fucking Kent?
Before Charlie can formulate words, Nick continues.
“So, yeah. That’ll be fun?” Nick lets out a half-laugh. “Turns out he’s been in London for work the last month. Heading back to France on Monday… and, well, he wants to see me before he goes?”
Charlie goes from confused to fuming in less than a second.
A month.
Nick’s dad has been here a fucking month without making contact?
Charlie bites back everything he wants to say — mostly a lot of swear words — and instead asks. “Can’t he see you tomorrow? I’ll be back just after five, we can go together.”
What Charlie means — and what he knows Nick will understand — is simple: Nick shouldn’t have to see his dad alone.
There’s a long pause. Charlie finds himself slowing down, coasting along in the inside lane at a speed that’s probably pissing off anyone who’s not a lorry driver.
“He uh… he’s only stopping in Kent on his way to Folkestone. He’s booked a cottage there for the weekend before travelling home so…” Nick clears his throat, and Charlie’s heart clenches in sympathy for his boyfriend. “So it’s either tonight or…”
Or not at all.
“Babe,” is all Charlie manages to say.
“It’s fine!” Nick says, far too brightly. “I just… wanted to let you know. And say hi and… and have fun, I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear all about it!”
“I can come b—”
“No!” Nick cuts him off. “Of course you can’t! I didn’t tell you because… I just wanted to speak to you quickly. I need to go get ready anyway. He’s booked a table at Franko’s for six thirty.”
Charlie glances at the dashboard: 17:36
The bastard really does think the world revolves around him, doesn’t he?
“Nick—” Charlie starts again.
But Nick’s already saying goodbye too fast, repeating he loves him, before hanging up.
Silence hits the car for half a second before Tao and Isaac explode into questions.
Half an hour later, Charlie’s speeding away from Tao’s place like he’s being chased by zombies — apt, given the film festival he was meant to be spending his Friday night and Saturday afternoon at is headlining a post-apocalyptic indie film Tao hasn’t shut up about since it was announced.
Isaac and Tao should still make it before the screening starts. They might miss the welcome drinks, but they’d both insisted it was fine, that Charlie should go be with Nick.
He makes it to the restaurant at 18:46, dumping his car in the first space he sees. He quickly runs a hand through his curls before heading inside.
Charlie can feel the tension rolling off Nick all the way across the room. Stéphane is talking animatedly whilst Nick pushes around his cutlery, eyes downcast.
He looks up just as Charlie reaches the table, his expression immediately softening in something like relief.
“Charlie!”
Nick is out of his chair and pulling Charlie into his arms before he finishes the word.
“What are you doing here?” Nick whispers into Charlie’s neck, his voice scratchy. “Your film festival, you’re missing it.”
Charlie wraps his arms around him tightly.
“You’re more important,” he whispers, kissing Nick’s temple. "You’ll always be more important.”
Charlie knows it in his very marrow — nothing and no one matters more than being there for Nick when he needs him.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 5
March - 4 years earlier
The first thing Nick notices as Charlie walks through the door is that he looks ridiculously hot, even after a long day at work. His curls are beautifully bouncy and messy and his eyes bright and warm. Moving in together was the best decision of Nick’s life.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Charlie drops his work bag at the door and they kiss each other hello, which starts chaste but turns heated pretty quickly.
Charlie groans.
“Let me go shower,” he mumbles into Nick’s lips.
“Okay,” Nick breathes, his fingers tangled in Charlie’s curls. God, running his fingers through Charlie's curls is one of his favourite hobbies. “Be quick.”
He slaps Charlie’s arse as he runs up the stairs.
It won’t be too long before Charlie notic–
“Nick!” Charlie yells down the stairs. “Where’s Pugly?”
“Oh, I have no idea,” Nick shouts back, trying and failing to keep the smile from his face.
He’s sure Charlie can hear the smile even from upstairs.
“Nicholas Luke Nelson, tell me right now what have you done with Pugly?”
Nick chuckles. Charlie races down to find Nick standing in the kitchen with his arms crossed, a smug smile on his face.
“Niiiiick! Where have you put my Pugly?”
“He’s not your dog, I won him,” Nick taunts, pleased with himself. “He’s hiding from you, he said that he prefers me.”
“You gave him to me! Niiiick, where is he?” Charlie whines, trying to stay serious.
Nick presses his lips together, eyes sparkling.
“I guess you’ll just have to find him.”
Charlie bolts to the living room and starts turning over cushions, opening drawers and looking behind the curtains.
“Niiiiiiick!”
Nick’s still grinning smugly, loving this animated version of his Charlie.
“Pugly, come to Dada- Ah-ha!”
Charlie spots him, well, his ear, hiding behind a photo of the two of them on the mantlepiece. It’s one of Nick’s favorite photos. They’re in Menorca, hand in hand on the beach at sunset. The way Charlie is looking at Nick, is, well, just everything. Nick’s chest suddenly spreads with warmth at the thought of Charlie as a Dada. Him as Papa. Maybe in the future…
Nick grabs him around the waist, trying to haul him back. “He doesn’t even like you!”
Charlie wriggles and struggles to reach Pugly.
“He loves me! Ah, Nick stop!” he squeals as Nick resorts to tickling his ribs.
Finally, he grabs hold of Pugly’s ear. “Yes! Victory!”
He holds the dog up in the air, grinning so wide it’s almost blinding. He looks absolutely stunning. Nick is so gone. He’s so unbelievably lucky.
“Not as much as I do.”
Nick smiles warmly as his hands slide around Charlie’s waist, “I love you so much,” he says, kissing his forehead.
“Love you too, Nicky,” Charlie murmurs, wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck.
“Forever?” Nick asks, as usual.
“Forever,” Charlie replies, as usual.
January - 4 years earlier
As Nick sits at the kitchen table marking the maths books from today's lesson, the first thing he notices when he looks up is Charlie absentmindedly twisting a curly strand of hair through his fingers. He knows, now that they’ve spent every day together for six months, that it’s a sign that Charlie is worried about something.
“What’s up babe?” he asks, closing the current book.
“Mmm, I’m just thinking about work.” Charlie sighs.
“Why, what's happening? Tell me?”
Charlie’s frown causes Nick to push his chair back and go and sit with him on the sofa.
“It’s just, the CEO is coming in tomorrow, and I’m worried that he won’t think my writing is good enough.” Charlie sighs, his fingers working double speed on his strand of hair.
“But why would he think that?” Nick asks, placing his hand over Charlie’s still one. “Your boss always says how impressed she is with your work. So what will have changed?”
“I know, but…”
“No buts Charlie Spring! Your boss said only last week that that was the best article you’d ever written. So if she believes in you, then you’ll knock the CEO’s socks off!”
Charlie smiles, and gives a little nod.
Nick squeezes his hand. “I think you’re amazing.”
Charlie grins wider. “Yeah, but you're biased.”
Nick smiles and leans in for a kiss, slow and certain. Their lips meet softly at first, familiar, grounding, before Charlie exhales into it, releasing some of his tension.
Nick shifts closer on the sofa, one hand still wrapped around Charlie’s, the other coming up to cradle his jaw. “You’re overthinking,” he murmurs against his lips, a quiet smile in his voice. “Which, to be fair, is your thing.”
Charlie huffs out a small laugh, their foreheads resting together now. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Charlie grins and leans in for another kiss. It steals Nick’s breath away how one simple kiss can make him feel everything.
“Charlie, you're brilliant, your boss thinks you’re brilliant, I think you’re brilliant. The only person who doesn’t is you.”
Charlie smiles appreciatively.
“Thanks Nick. For always believing in me.”
“Always,” Nick smiles, his heart exploding.
Charlie is everything Nick didn’t know he was looking for — clever without arrogance, kind without effort, loving in the quiet ways that matter. He’s funny in that disarming, offhand way that catches Nick off guard, and, somehow, he’s also the most attractive man Nick has ever seen.
It hits him all at once — not like a lightning strike, but like a slow, undeniable shift, as though something is finally settling into place. The way his gaze lingers on Charlie a second too long isn't just attraction. The way his chest tightens when Charlie smiles isn’t just admiration.
And that’s when Nick realises, with a clarity he can’t ignore anymore—
He’s in love.
Later that evening, the four of them are snuggling under a blanket on the sofa. Charlie, Kitty and Pugly are at Nick’s for a sleepover.
Ever since Nick came to the realisation that he was hopelessly in love with Charlie, he is simply bursting to tell him. As he draws slow, soothing circles on Charlie's arm, a plan begins to form. As they watch another episode of Taskmaster, the idea continues to scratch away at his brain until he knows he just has to carry it out this evening. He has to tell him tonight.
///
“Shall we watch one more?” Charlie mumbles into Nick’s hoodie, where he’s been making happy humming noises for the last two episodes, lulled by the steady rhythm of Nick’s fingers tracing gentle patterns across his scalp.
“Yeah let’s do one more, if you can stay awake!” says Nick with a grin. “I just need to go to the loo. Lift up.”
Charlie sits up and rubs his eyes.
“Back in a min,” Nick says, kissing his forehead.
He runs upstairs, an excited feeling swirling in his tummy. He opens and closes the bathroom door, and then sneaks into his bedroom. There, he quickly sets everything up ready for when they come to bed. Grinning to himself, he loudly opens the bathroom door and makes his way downstairs.
The first thing he notices is Charlie, sleeping soundly on the sofa. Nick watches him for a while, his chest softening as he takes in the quiet rise and fall of his breathing and the way his hair falls messily across his forehead like he’s completely at ease. He is absolute perfection.
He gently brushes the curls off his forehead, carefully places his arms under Charlie’s back and legs, and lifts him bridal style, before carrying him up the stairs.
He gets to the top step when Charlie stirs. His eyes flutter open and he smiles when he realises he’s in Nick’s arms.
“Did you carry me up here?” He murmurs.
“I did,” Nick whispers, kissing him softly on the lips.
He gently places Charlie’s feet on the top step. Charlie instantly snakes his arms around Nick’s neck and looks up at him with something so open it almost knocks the breath out of him.
“Nick, I, I love you,” Charlie breathes, as though it’s taken all his courage to say it.
“No!” Nick blurts out before he can stop himself.
“Oh god, it’s too soon isn’t it, I’m sorry, I-”
“Charlie!” Nick grins, “No, no it’s not too soon, it’s just, well, you should go in there,” he nods to the bedroom.
Charlie opens the door to find an arrangement on the bed. Three of his books, organised in a line to make an I, his phone charger cable bent into a slightly lopsided heart shape and three socks curved into a U. Either side, sit Kitty and Pugly.
Charlie’s face breaks into a huge, beaming smile.
“I wanted to say it first!” Nick groans.
Charlie just laughs, launching forward and rugby-tackling him onto the bed. The breath gets knocked out of Nick in a startled huff, but he’s laughing too, already wrapping his arms around Charlie as they land in a tangle of limbs and sheets and random items.
Charlie presses in closer, fitting himself against Nick like he belongs there, arms tight around him. This time, when he speaks, there’s no hesitation.
“I love you. So much.”
Nick’s chest warms at the certainty in his voice. He pulls Charlie even closer — like that’s even possible — pressing kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
“I love you too, Char,” he murmurs against his skin. “You’re it for me.”
Charlie finds his lips then, and the kiss is softer than before, but deeper somehow — like they’re both still a little in awe of it, of finally saying the thing that’s been there all along.
When they part, neither of them goes far. Nick cups Charlie’s face, thumbs brushing warmly over his cheeks, holding him there for a second like he needs to be sure this is real.
“Move in with me? You, Kitty and Pugly?”
~*~*~*~
Chapter 6
Four and a half years earlier…
“Bad luck mate,” the spotty teenager drawls, barely looking at him. “Want another go?”
Charlie’s eyes stay fixed on the floppy grey puppy dangling just out of reach. The first thing he noticed was that all the other prizes are loud and colourful, but this one — soft, droopy, a little ugly — hooked him the moment he walked into Thorpe Park several hours earlier.
He really doesn’t want to leave without him.
Acutely aware of his now empty wallet, Charlie digs into his pocket, heart lifting when his fingers curl around two coins. His face splits into a grin when he pulls them out to find the exact amount he needs for one final go of the game.
It is fate.
This time he’ll win.
The perfect end to a brilliant day with friends — ugly pug will be coming home with him. He can already picture Kitty and the puppy sitting side by side on his bed.
Grinning, he hands over the last of his money and grabs the offered beanbags.
Less than a minute later, Charlie casts one last wistful gaze at the dog, sighs, and trudges back to where Tao and Isaac are waiting for him.
“Those games are such scams,” Tao says, his mouth full of chips. “Want one?”
Charlie shakes his head.
“I’ve got some change,” Isaac offers. “You could try again?”
“Thanks,” Charlie huffs a laugh. “But I’ve already wasted enough of my money on that stupid game. It’s rigged anyway. I don’t know why I—”
A loud cheer cuts him off.
Charlie turns just in time to see someone pointing at the floppy grey pug as the board above his head flashes ‘WINNER!!!’. Two young women jump up and down next to the game, cheering loudly.
Charlie can’t tear his eyes away as the guy turns, a grin lighting up his face, with the soft toy clutched in his hands. Recognition hits him instantly. Tall. Hair that shifts between golden blond and soft ginger in the changing sunlight. Annoyingly handsome. They’ve been orbiting each other all day — queues, rides, shared glances that Charlie has definitely overthought.
Except, maybe he hasn’t. Because tall-blond-cutey’s eyes suddenly look up, pinning Charlie with an intense stare he struggles to look away from.
“Shit,” he mutters as a moment later the guy begins walking towards him.
“Wha— oh!” Isaac’s face lights up. “It’s your meet-cute!”
“Shut up,” Charlie hisses. “Come on!”
He grabs hold of Isaac and starts pulling him towards the exit.
“Hey!” Isaac protests, stumbling after him.
“Are we leaving already?” Tao asks, hurrying to catch up.
“Charlie! He was coming to talk to you!” Isaac insists, digging his feet in.
“Who? What?”
“Come on, I’m starving,” Charlie says, ignoring Tao and continuing his attempt to pull a seemingly immovable Isaac forward.
“I just offered you chips,” Tao says, baffled.
“It’s the guy!” Isaac stage-whispers.
Tao’s eyes dart between a frantic Charlie and a smirking Isaac. “What guy?”
“The guy!” Isaac nods his head over Charlie’s shoulder. “The one who’s been eye-fucking Charlie all — Oh hey!”
Isaac abruptly stops talking, a wicked grin on his face as he makes eye contact with something — or someone — behind Charlie.
“Um, hi?” A slightly hesitant voice comes behind him.
Even without turning, Charlie just knows who is standing there.
Charlie closes his eyes for half a second, then turns.
Yep. Definitely him.
The first thing Charlie notices is how much worse he is up close — taller, broader, his adorable pink cheeks trying to camouflage his beautiful freckles.
Behind him, his two friends bounce up and down on the balls of their feet, both grinning manically.
“Uh, hi,” Charlie manages to say as panic, excitement and nerves all crash through him at once.
“Hi,” the stranger echoes. “So… I — uh —”
“Go get him, Nick!” one of his friends calls.
“Darce!” the other elbows her friend in the side.
The stranger — Nick — groans, his cheeks flushing an even darker shade of red. “Ignore them.”
Charlie finds himself smiling, even as his heart continues to beat far too fast behind his ribs.
“So,” Nick begins after a moment of hesitation. “This might…uh… I just saw you… and I’m… and I just…”
Nick takes a deep breath, then holds out the pug. “I won this. For you.”
Charlie blinks. “What?”
Nick laughs awkwardly, taking a tiny step forward and pressing the soft toy to Charlie’s chest. “I uh, I saw you try and… well, she looks kinda lonely sitting up there all by herself, and I just thought, if you really want her, that she should go home with you.”
Charlie stares, his brain momentarily offline and unable to process what is happening.
“Take it!” Isaac hisses behind him.
Charlie should say thank you.
He should say: that’s so kind.
Or: you shouldn’t have.
Or even: what the fuck, I don’t even know you.
What he actually says is “He.”
As he gently takes the toy and gathers it to his chest without thinking about how that might make him look.
Nick blinks.
“He’s a he,” Charlie continues, feeling suddenly shy. “I think. I mean, obviously I shouldn’t presume or anything. But… well… I just… I think he’s a he.”
Nick’s face breaks into a soft, warm smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Charlie’s face finally breaks out of its frozen confused state, mirroring Nick’s own smile.
“Oh my god,” he hears Isaac whisper behind him.
“Thank you,” Charlie finally remembers to say, unable to take his eyes off Nick’s own honey-coloured ones.
“Does he have a name?”
Charlie shakes his head. “No, not yet.”
“Ask him!” one of Nick’s friends shouts, momentarily pulling Charlie’s focus from Nick’s smiling eyes.
Nick laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, this might be a bit random, but… well there’s a pizza place about ten minutes away. We go all the time and—”
“You’re rambling Nick!”
Nick rolls his eyes, turning to glare at his friends before looking back at Charlie, a little steadier now. “We’re heading there now. Do you um… do you want to come? We could figure out his name? My treat.”
“Ooh,” Tao says, suddenly very interested. “Are you talking about Pianillo’s?”
“Yeah,” Nick says, not taking his eyes off Charlie.
Charlie looks down at the floppy dog in his arms, then back up at Nick who looks hopeful and nervous and unfairly attractive.
“Yeah,” Charlie says, his own grin stretching across his face. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
~*~*~*~
Chapter 7
Six weeks on from present day
The first thing Nick notices as he looks into the bathroom mirror are the dark circles under his eyes.
The second thing he notices is the single toothbrush, lying haphazardly on the side of the sink in a dried pool of manky toothpaste water.
Not for the first time in the last six weeks, a lump lodges in his throat as his heart curls in on itself, like if it could just shrink enough, maybe the pain would stop.
Charlie used to huff at Nick’s messy habits. A lot genuinely annoyed him, Nick knows that. And yet, somehow, he never made Nick’s messy ADHD brain feel like a problem — he’d just pick up the toothbrush, wipe the sink, and then climb into bed beside him, nestling into Nick’s chest like it was home.
Nick misses Charlie on a bone deep level. Not because Charlie always made sure there were tea bags and milk, and that the bins went out on the right day — but because Charlie balanced him out. Loved him. Cared for him. Made him a better person without ever, ever making Nick feel like he wasn’t enough just as he was.
Nick stares at the toothbrush, then turns and heads back to the bedroom. He collapses onto the musty sheets — he hasn’t changed them since Charlie left. He knows it’s disgusting. He just can’t let go. They stopped smelling like Charlie weeks ago, but every night he still lets himself pretend. As he curls under them, he tells himself Charlie will be back soon. That he can still smell him.
He reaches blindly for Pugly and pulls him tight to his chest.
“I miss him so much,” he whispers into the dog's short fur.
“I know,” Nick says quietly after a moment. “Kitty too. I’m sorry. I should have done better.”
It’s Saturday, which would be bad enough — the only thing keeping him going right now is work. But it’s also the start of half term, and Nick has no idea how he’s going to keep his mind occupied for a whole week without ending up on Tori’s doorstep, begging to see Charlie.
The first week was awful. The absence of Charlie in his life was like a severed limb.
The second week was fueled by hurt and anger. He didn’t want to see Charlie. Or so he told himself. He’d left. He hadn’t stayed and fought. He hadn’t loved Nick enough.
By the third week, Nick was replaying everything — every missed moment, every tiny blip, every unspoken disagreement — wishing he could go back and fix it all.
By the fourth, the need to reach out burned under his skin like a blister demanding to be burst. But he’d promised Charlie he would respect his decision. So he pressed into the blister, prodding and poking and telling himself he deserved the pain.
Work was the only thing keeping him grounded by week five.
And now, here he was, week six, and feeling untethered and desperate.
With Pugly pressed to his face, Nick grabs his phone from the otherwise empty bedside table — Charlie’s bedside table, he thinks with a pang — and, without really meaning to, opens his message thread with Charlie.
Forty-one days. Not a single message since Charlie’s ‘i’ve arrived at Tori’s’, and Nick’s equally short and pathetic ‘Thanks for letting me know’.
Before he can think better of it, Nick rolls onto his front, props Pugly against the headboard, snaps a photo… and starts to type.
Sat 7th 08:37
hi kitty
itz qwiet here
i mis yew! 😢
He knows this is ridiculous, but it's not like he's really expecting a reply anyway. Wouldn’t be surprised if Charlie has blocked him. So he continues.
gonna tel yew a seecrut. shhhhhh… the jinjey won never woz my fayvrut hooman.
Luv Pugly x
It’s only after hitting send that Nick realises he’s crying. Silent tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He swipes at his face, rough and impatient.
“Fuck.”
He throws his phone across the bed, swearing again when it slides straight off the edge and hits the floor with a sharp thwack.
Then he grabs Pugly and marches downstairs, jaw set, already regretting the moment of weakness.
Nick forces himself to stay busy downstairs for the rest of the morning. It’s only after lunch — a slice of toast because what’s the point in making an effort without Charlie to share his creations with — that he realises he never did brush his teeth.
The second he’s back upstairs, the pull of his phone becomes too much to resist. He scoops it up from where it’s been lying on the floor for the last few hours, his heart skipping when he sees not one but three messages from Charlie on his lock screen
One is of Kitty perched in the corner of a bed Nick doesn’t recognise.
Something tight twists painfully in his chest, seeing evidence of Charlie building a life that he knows nothing about.
Sat 7th 09:01
qwiet here 2
n i miss you n jinjey
Luv Kitty
Unbelievably, Nick feels like crying with relief and happiness at those two short messages.
He types and deletes and retypes several replies as he finally brushes his teeth, both desperate to keep any conversation with Charlie — Kitty — going, and equally terrified that one wrong word could shut this down.
Eventually, after deep cleaning the bathroom, Nick settles on a reply and quickly presses send before he can back out.
Sat 7th 13:23
Iym wurid abowt jinjey one, hez spent all mornin organizin cubordz . had to woch. Send help
Charlie’s reply is almost instant.
Sat 7th 13:24
Curlee spent the mornin hiting thows
sircul thingz. Itz lowd. Swapsies?
Something around Nick’s heart unclenches at the quick, easy reply. He can picture Charlie so easily, sitting on his bed in Tori’s spare room, his drums wedged precariously into the cramped space, Kitty tucked in his arms while he waits for Nick to reply.
Nick doesn’t give himself time to think as he fires back a message, confessing that Pugly misses Charlie’s music.
By the time he climbs into bed that night, phone in hand as he scrolls through the many messages he and Charlie had sent each other throughout the day, Nick vows that tomorrow will be the day he finally washes his sheets.
Pugly needs to show Kitty that Nick was worthy of Charlie’s heart.
///
Sun 8th 07:32
Jinjey stil bys big milk
then confuzed why it smellz bad b4 hez finished it
Sun 8th 08:12
TEL HIM TO MAYK AYNJUL DELIYT!!!
Sun 8th 08:14
ur sow clevr kitty!!
we need yew here.
I mis yor hugz
Nick stares at the texts for a long time.
Charlie — Kitty — doesn’t reply and Nick knows he’s already messed up whatever fragile bridge they’d started to rebuild.
He misses Charlie so much it hurts. But if this is all he can have — messaging back and forth, pretending to be Pugly and Kitty — he’ll take it any day of the week.
He silently begs the universe for a reply from Charlie. Promises that he’ll never push too far, never get too sappy again.
If Charlie would just—
Sun 8th 09:15
curlee misiz hugs wiv u 2 pugly
And I fink he misiz jinjey 2
Relief crashes through Nick so hard it almost hurts.
Nick spends the rest of the day carefully drawing out Charlie’s replies by steering the conversation towards safer things, like what flavour of Angel Delight to buy. From there, the conversation twists and meanders through what clouds would taste like, and what they’d do if they woke up as worm teddies — would hugs feel as good without arms?
By the time evening rolls around again, Nick has a long trail of texts full of absolute nonsense to scroll through in bed. He falls asleep smiling at his phone.
On Monday, Nick waits until midday — Charlie’s lunch hour — before he has Pugly message Kitty a picture of his lunch.
On Tuesday, after staying awake until one in the morning swapping memes and instagram reels with Charlie, Nick finds it impossible to play it cool. He messages him whilst making his morning cup of tea.
Charlie’s — Kitty’s — reply is instant.
Nick's smile grows exponentially.
It’s easier to text as Pugly. Pugly can be silly. He can spam Charlie with ten memes in a row, pester without overthinking every word, secure in the knowledge that Kitty would never leave Pugly on read.
On Wednesday, Kitty messages Pugly first.
And something inside Nick — something that was shrivelled and parched — slowly begins to unfold, to breathe again.
///
Thu 12th 11:01
{PHOTO OF PUGLY NEXT TO BISCUITS}
jinjey is an idiut
Thu 12th 11:17
norty word!!!
Uhhhhhhhhh why did jinjey by bourrrbum biscuits??? Jinjey hayts boooourbums!
Thu 12th 11:19
Hez stoopid
Thu 12th 11:22
Curlee lykes bouurbumms
Thu 12th 11:23
I no this… think jinjey does 2
///
Sun 15th 11:26
curlee iz mownin hez waykin up cowld
Sun 15th 11:36
This mayks pugly sad 😞
Jinjey dosunt sleyp well eether
He reelee mises yew kitty
And I fink jinjey mises curlee a lot
Sun 15th 11:40
Pugly?
Sun 15th 11:46
Kitty?
Sun 15th 11:46
What hapund?
To them…why did they stop bein happi?
Sun 15th 11:50
Silly hooomans being silly
They didunt try
Itz reelee sad
Jinjey iz relee sad
Sun 15th 11:50
yeh curlee iz 2
Reeeeeelee sad
Sun 15th 15:01
jingy woz stupid not to try more
Sun 15th 15:07
he let curlee go tho
Sun 15th 15:16
He was maykin curlee sad. He mised his dimplez sow bad
Thort he was doin wot curlee wonted
But it mayd jinjey cry
Sun 15th 15:21
Curlee cryd too
A lot
Sun 15th 15:27
jinjey crys mowst dayz sins curlee left
I get lotz of hugz
Sun 15th 15:45
Why r hoomans sow complicaytid?
Nick types and deletes every version of what he wants to say over and over again.
Two hours later, and he’s still not replied.
He wants to call Charlie, just to hear his voice.
He wants to beg for a second chance, to tell him he’ll do better this time.
Instead, he freezes.
He spends the rest of the day cleaning the house with frantic energy, trying to scrub away the restless ache under his skin, all while wishing he’d been enough to make Charlie happy.
///
Mon 16th 07:55
Pugly are yew exsitid to get the howse to yor self???!
Nick’s already in his classroom. He’s not been this early to work since his first week as a teacher.
His feelings are a jumbled mess. He doesn’t want to give up even the tiniest bit of contact he can get with Charlie. It’s silly and pathetic, but these messages give him hope.
Hope for something he doesn’t dare give a shape — doesn’t dare wish for, even in his head.
But they hurt, too. The messages. Every one is a reminder of everything he misses. They make him ache for Charlie in ways he can barely stand, make him hope for things he’s terrified he’ll never get back again.
And still, despite that pain, he clings to them. Because even painful hope feels better than nothing at all.
Mon 16th 08:00
big exsited. jinjey bringz my partee vibes down! good ridence i say
Mon 16th 08:01
I howp u r bein kind to jingy pugly!
///
Mon 16th 17:02
jinjey survived skoool. Hez aktchewally smiling
(it lukz weeeird!)
Mon 16th 18:15
Kitty iz happee jingy is happee
Mon 16th 18:18
Wel not happy happy
he is stil sow sad we liv apart
Mon 16th 18:22
Curlee wanted to take you with uz pugly. But he didn’t want jinjey to be alowne
Mon 16th 18:23
just wish we cud all b toogetheer
Mon 16th 18:40
Yeah
///
Tue 17th 18:11
I saw curlee nearlee text jinjey towday
he rote it. Then he deleted it
Idiot
Tue 17th 18:18
jinjey duz that daily
Tue 17th 18:19
Wud he not mind curlee saying hi?
QTue 17th 18:20
NOOO! Big time no
Hed luv it acktuwaly
Tue 17th 18:25
I fink curlee is scared
Tue 17th 18:22
jinjey scared 2
Tue 17th 18:37
Silly hoomans
Tue 17th 18:37
Silly hoomans
///
Wed 18th 16:44
jinjey stud in kichen for 10 minitz staring at the ketul
he saw the N mug and then didunt even mayk tea
He misses curlee sow much
Wed 18th 17:00
Why doesn’t he tell curlee?
Wed 18th 17:55
Hez a scardee kat
Wed 18th 17:56
scaredy kitty!
Wed 18th 17:58
Kitty?
Wed 18th 17:58
Yes pugly?
Wed 18th 18:00
Can u keep a seecrut??
Wed 18th 18:00
Yes pugly. Your my bestist frend. U can tell me aneefin
Wed 18th 18:02
Jinjey reelee wants to see curlee agen
He towld me
jinjey mises him and yew and ther life sow much it hurtz
Wed 18th 18:03
Hi Nick
It’s Charlie
I want to see you too
I’m scared though
I don’t understand where we went wrong
Wed 18th 18:08
Lots of things maybe…
But the biggest is that I didn’t fight for you
I didn’t say sorry
I didn’t try harder
Wed 18th 18:16
I didn’t fight either
I thought love was enough
But I’m struggling without you
Wed 18th 18:17
I love you so much Charlie
And god I miss you
I’m a mess
Wed 18th 18:18
I love you too
So much it hurts my chest
I feel like there’s a part of me missing
Wed 18th 18:25
Itz pugly
sill y hoomans need ther hedz bangin 2toogethr
They need to tork
to choooose each other
Wed 18th 18:08
🤣
Pugly u are sow wise
Wed 18th 18:09
we get them together, yes?
Wed 18th 18:09
Sowndz like a plan
Wed 18th 18:09
Friday, Pianillo’s… 7pm?
Wed 18th 18:10
Itz a dayt ♥️
///
Nick’s heart is racing so fast he feels faint with it.
He’s been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes.
It feels like fifteen hours.
Charlie is never late. He’s not late now either — Nick is just painfully, absurdly early.
He still doesn’t fully understand where they went wrong.
But he understands better now. Relationships don’t break all at once. They unravel slowly with missed conversations and swallowed feelings. Through exhaustion and assumptions, through loving someone so deeply that you start believing love alone will carry you through.
Somewhere between overtime and savings and trying to become real adults, they’d stopped making time to simply be Nick and Charlie.
They’d taken each other for granted.
Nick used to think love was supposed to be easy. That once you found the right person, everything else would simply slot into place around them.
But there’s no such thing as a fairytale ending.
Love isn’t magic. It’s a choice.
Choosing each other every day.
It’s communication and compromise. It’s trying, even when you’re tired. It’s fighting to become the best version of yourself because you want to be that person for the one you love.
And Charlie, Charlie is worth fighting for.
He’s worth everything.
A burst of noise sweeps into the restaurant as the door opens.
Nick looks up so quickly his neck twinges in protest.
Charlie steps inside, cheeks pink from the cold, curls windswept around his face. His eyes find Nick immediately.
He smiles. Small and shy and a little uncertain, but real, his one dimple clear even from across the room.
Charlie lifts a hand in a half wave, and something inside Nick settles. His heartbeat steadier than it’s been in weeks.
Because Charlie came. Because they’re here, together.
Choosing to try.
Maybe that’s all love really is in the end: two people continuing to choose each other, over and over again, even if things get difficult.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 8
6 months on from present day
The first thing Charlie notices as he steps out onto the balcony is how relaxed Nick looks. The tension Charlie remembers from those strained weeks before their brief separation seems to have drained away. His forearms; strong, tanned and delicious are resting on the railings as he looks out at the stunning view from the beach house.
He comes up behind Nick, wraps his arms round his waist and kisses the back of his neck.
“Okay?”
“I’m great,” Nick replies, turning his head and smiling. “So happy.”
“What you thinking about?” Charlie asks, nuzzling into Nick’s neck, feeling his stubble along his cheek. He’ll never get bored of Nick’s scent.
“I was just thinking that I feel sorry for the boys, we left them at home!”
Charlie chuckles into Nick’s neck. “Nick, they’re fine, they’re having a great time without us.”
Before they’d left, Charlie had dressed Kitty and Pugly in Hawaiian shirts, sunglasses and placed beer bottles next to them. He loves making Nick smile. Sometimes the little things are important — taking time to make Nick smile will always be important.
“They’re having their own little holiday. Besides,” he mumbles, kissing a line down Nick’s neck, I really wouldn’t want them seeing what I’m about to do to you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nick raises an eyebrow, fully turns round, leans back on the railing and wraps his arms around Charlie's neck.
Nick leans in closer, Charlie presumes for a kiss, but he stops when their lips are barely a breath apart. The familiar scent of Nick and the ghost of his breath on Charlie’s lips are already starting to undo Charlie completely. The anticipation zings through him, sharp and electric. God, he makes him so horny.
“What’s that then?” Nick whispers onto Charlie's lips, rolling his hips and flicking his tongue across Charlie's bottom lip.
Charlie moans and presses harder into Nick, desperate for more friction.
“Get in the bedroom now and you’ll find out,” Charlie says, his voice gravely with need.
He grabs Nick by the hand and pulls him inside, the urgency to get him naked greater than ever before.
//
They’ve only got one full day left at the beach house, and Charlie’s determined not to waste it. As much as the last three days — barely leaving the bedroom, existing in a haze of warmth and tangled sheets — have been very worthwhile, there’s an entire stretch of coastline out there he hasn’t even touched yet.
Still, it’s a bit hard to care when he’s currently sprawled against Nick, skin warm against his, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Charlie could quite happily stay exactly where he is for the rest of the day. Actually, forever.
He exhales, then steels himself.
“Right, you,” he says, giving Nick’s bare arse a light slap, more playful than stern. “We are actually getting up and doing something today.”
“Boooooo,” Nick grins instantly, rolling over, squashing and pinning Charlie beneath him like he’s got every intention of keeping him there. “Terrible idea. Hate it.”
“Niiiiiick! Get off me you big rugby oaf!” Charlie laughs as he squirms to get free.
“Okay, okay,” Nick relents, shifting his weight. “Gimmekiss.”
Charlie grins, leaning in. They’ve watched Heated Rivalry way too many times to count and both have started to quote it on a daily basis.
Nick cups his face, his touch suddenly soft, and he leans in to press a slow, gentle kiss to Charlie’s lips. It’s not about heat or urgency this time. It’s tender, but deliberate, the kind of kiss that makes Charlie‘s toes tingle and floods his chest with all consuming love.
“I love you,” Nick says, the look in his eyes warm and unguarded, the kind of look that says I will choose you every day until forever.
“Love you too,” Charlie says, kissing Nick’s forehead and wondering if life ever gets better than this.
///
“This is stunning,” Charlie says as they stroll hand-in-hand along the beach.
The shoreline stretches endlessly ahead of them, a smooth ribbon of pale sand kissed by the tide. The sea glitters under the late afternoon sun, shifting between deep blue and molten gold as the light dances across it. Waves roll in gently, breaking in soft, foamy whispers at their feet before slipping back again.
“I know, it’s gorgeous,” Nick replies, dipping down to wash his flip flops in the sea.
The bag he’s been carrying all day slips off his shoulder and he just manages to lift it up before it lands in the water. He looks relieved.
“What have you actually got in there?” Charlie asks.
“You’ll find out soon,” Nick grins.
They keep walking, breathing in the salty sea air and feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin. They talk, they laugh, they splash water at each other, they kiss, and Charlie can’t help but think how incredibly lucky he is.
Before long, they reach a little cove.
“Shall we sit down for a bit?” Nick suggests.
“Yeah,” Charlie nods, “We’ve definitely got our steps in today.”
Nick unzips his bag and proceeds to pull out a checked blanket and some Tupperware containers. He starts laying it down on the sand.
“What’s this?” Charlie frowns in confusion.
“I thought we could have a little picnic!” Nick smiles.
And Charlie thought he couldn’t love Nick any more than he did.
“Awww Nick, that’s so sweet!”
“I know you love a picnic,” Nick winks. “Go on, get comfy.”
Charlie sits down cross legged on the blanket and Nick joins him.
They open the containers to reveal mini sandwiches, cheese and crackers, strawberries and some Oreos.
“Omg Nick, you’re the best boyfriend ever,” Charlie grins.
“How about fiancé?”
“What?”
Charlie realises Nick is moving but he’s confused about what's happening. The first thing he notices is Nick kneeling — on one knee. Then he notices a ring box.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Charlie shrieks with pure joy, clutching his chest like some Victorian old lady.
“Charlie Spring, I cannot imagine doing life without you. And I never want to have to try again. If I promise to never wake you up after a night out, to always be at your gigs, to always put enough milk in your coffee and always, always put you first… will you marry me?”
“Nick!” Charlie cries, tears already streaming down his face. “Yes! A million percent, yes!”
He throws himself onto Nick, knocking him off his knee and onto his back. He kisses every inch of Nick's face, not stopping for breath as Nick laughs and hugs him tight.
Life actually did get better, Charlie thinks.
///
“Home, sweet home,” Nick sighs, as they dump their bags at the front door.
“Ergh, I need to shower,” Charlie says. “I’m gonna head straight up.”
The first thing he notices as he opens the bedroom door are Kitty and Pugly, dressed in suits with a bottle of champagne between them.
Nick appears behind him.
“When did you do that? I put them in their holiday outfits before we left!” Charlie laughs, turning to him in disbelief.
“Just as you were packing the bags into the car.” Nick grins, clearly pleased with himself.
“How did you know I would say yes?”
“Well, I didn’t, but we tried living without each other and it didn’t work. We were always meant to be together. You and me. Nick and Charlie. Forever.”
“Forever.” Charlie echoes, smiling, his heart full of everything that feels like home.
Maybe true happiness, he thinks, is not grand gestures or a fancy house. It’s always choosing the other person above everything else. It’s a series of ordinary days made incredible by somebody else living that same ordinary life with you.