Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I'm leaving home for the coastline
Some place under the sun
I feel my heart for the first time
'Cause now I'm moving on, yeah I'm moving on

And there's a place that I've dreamed of
Where I can free my mind
I hear the sounds of the season
And lose all sense of time

🌊🌊🌊

Nick was fed up.

He had been in Cornwall for three days and so far, it had rained every single one of them. Summer in the southernmost point of England was meant to be glorious, but this? This was not glorious.

He sighed as he stared out of the glass sliding doors of his Airbnb, wondering if his whole six weeks would be like this. The weather forecast looked good for the following week, but Nick didn’t trust it in the slightest. It had told him the last few days would be cloudy and sunny and yet here he was, staring out at a wall of grey. It wasn’t even as if it was the pretty, romantic, lovely kind of rain that would look good in pictures. It was just grey, bland mush.

Despite it being the middle of the day, it was so dark outside that Nick could see his reflection in the window. He looked a mess, he knew that. His hair was longer than he usually liked to keep it, his auburn fringe flopping down into his eyes when he wore it un-styled like now. More often than not these days, Nick tended to shove one of his caps on to hide the mess. He had let his normal stubble grow into more of a beard over the last few months and he was unsure how he felt about it, but at least it didn’t make him look like his dad. Big win there, as far as Nick was concerned. Mostly, he just thought he looked old. Old and tired, which was ridiculous given he had not long turned 30.

He let out a frustrated breath as he turned back to look at the open plan area of the flat and towards the kitchen. His brand-new Canon 5D Mark II was sitting waiting for him on the island, next to the old film camera that used to belong to his mum. He had allowed himself to wallow in self-pity for the last few days, but enough was enough. There was the tiniest crack of light trying to break through the clouds and Nick was determined to catch it if it did come out. He relented and walked towards the kitchen, hooking the film camera strap carefully around his neck and packing the DSLR into its bag, which he then threw over his shoulder. With his favourite brown Carhartt jacket on over his jeans and black t-shirt, his phone and wallet shoved in his pocket and a very weakly attempted pep in his step, Nick made his way out of the Airbnb.

He had managed to book the same place for the entire time he would be in Cornwall, which was a miracle given how short notice this trip had been. Nick was finally, ten years too late, going on a solo trip to find himself, as his best friend Tara had put it. He wasn’t so sure that’s what it was – a tantrum was probably a better way of putting it. Running away was the kindest way to describe it, if he were in any sort of mood to be kind to himself.

It had been a shit year, quite frankly. Nick had turned 30, been dumped and had to leave his home and his job, all in the space of a few short months. He had moved into Rowan’s flat when they had decided to live together, so of course he had been the one to leave. He moved back in with his mum while he was looking for a new place, except that still hadn’t happened yet over half a year later. Not long after the breakup – or brutal dumping, more accurately – a parent at the school he worked in had made an official complaint about the small pink, blue and purple pin that he wore on his work lanyard. While his Head had laughed off the complaint, she had still looked Nick up and down and very purposely told him that he should leave his personal life at home. By the next day, the rest of the staff were looking at him differently. His closest friend at work, Abby, had come to have a talk with him, telling Nick that she didn’t care who Nick slept with as long as he didn’t a) talk about it, ever or b) pass on his lifestyle ideas on to the kids he taught. Nick had started looking for a new school that very evening.

So there he was, living in his childhood bedroom and working in a place that didn’t want him, waiting for something better to come along. By February, Rowan was posting pictures of his new partner on Instagram for Valentine's Day while Nick sat on the sofa with a ready meal on his lap, his mother by his side and his old friend Nellie at his feet.

And then things took a really shitty turn.

After a week of Nellie barely touching her food, Nick and Sarah had taken her to the vets. She was old and it was expected, but the two weeks they were given with her hurt more than anything else Nick had ever experienced in his life. His best friend since he was fourteen had lived far longer than expected, but that didn’t make the day they said goodbye any easier.

Two days after Nellie left them, Nick had an interview at a potential new school in London and he had spent half of it tearing up at unexpected moments. He had known without a doubt that he wanted the job when the Head had held out a box of tissues and told him that she and her wife had lost their dog the previous year, so she knew how it felt. Nick had told the Story of The Bi Pin at the mention of a wife, and soon they were shaking hands with wide smiles and promising to speak soon. By the time he got back to his mum's that evening, Nick had a job offer waiting for him in his emails. After three terrible interviews and countless applications ignored, Nick thought that maybe, just maybe, his luck was finally starting to turn.

He spent the last few months at his old school praying for time to move faster. He gave the kids everything he had, of course he did, but he had barely spoken to another adult in that place since the pin incident. It made his skin crawl to even be in the same building as them sometimes, but knowing that he was in his last term there made it all a little more bearable.

As the summer holidays approached, Nick felt his mood slip further. It was hard being at home without Nellie; quiet and cold and empty. Sarah was looking at listings on rescue sites every evening, trying to find a new four-legged friend to keep her company when Nick moved back to London in the autumn. Nick hoped she would find one soon enough, for both of their sakes. He expected to feel a bit better knowing he was almost free of a toxic workplace, but the last year had finally caught up with him. He spent every moment he wasn’t at work either on the sofa or in bed, wasting away. He barely saw his friends - they were all in London anyway and it was too hard to commute from Kent to see them when he was already so exhausted from just existing.

“Why don’t you go away for a little while, Nicky?” Mum had suggested in June. “You haven’t been yourself at all lately, baby. It might be good to have a change of scenery for a while.”

And while Nick had felt like doing nothing but becoming one with the sofa, he couldn’t deny that the idea of being somewhere else had lit a tiny spark of excitement inside him.

“You could take your camera? I haven’t seen you with it for years, darling.”

Nick had grumbled that it hadn’t been years, but she wasn’t far off. Rowan was great in so many ways, but humouring Nick’s creative side wasn’t one of them. He hated having his photo taken - and Nick had loved taking his photo - and he would’ve been an asshole to carry on doing something Ro wasn’t comfortable with. He’d put his camera away at the bottom of his wardrobe and all but forgotten about it bar the few times he took it home to Kent with him to take on dog walks. Nellie loved the camera, always ready to pose the second it was pointed at her. She had been one of Nick’s favourite subjects since the day they’d brought her home, but his absolute favourite thing to take pictures of was the beach. Any beach, any time, any lighting, any weather. He was okay at photographing people and animals, he knew he was, but he was truly proud of some of the landscapes he had taken over the years. He had won a couple of competitions through high school and university, half hoping for a minute somewhere in there that he might be good enough to make a career out of it. The last two years of uni and teacher training plus a long-term boyfriend had stamped that out of him though, the sudden exhaustion that came with being a real adult leaving his camera gathering dust.

He did miss it though, and it would be fun to get back into it now that he didn’t have anyone complaining every time he picked up a camera or glanced at something for a second too long, imagining how it would look hung up in a gallery. His friend Elle had asked him only last week if he would help her with an exhibition she was running, so it was perfect timing.

Nick had met Elle in sixth form when they had attended the same evening photography class. They had hit it off and kept in touch and now Elle ran a small gallery in London, showcasing all kinds of art. She was a painter above all else and much better at everything artsy than Nick ever was, but for some reason she had come to him to see if he could take a few pictures for an end of summer exhibition.

“The theme is ‘sunshine’. I have plenty of artists and a couple of sculptors but no photographers,” she had told him on the phone. “If you’re out and you see anything that might work… I’d love to include you. You know I love your photos, Nick.”

He had told her no initially, not wanting to make a promise he was almost sure he wouldn’t be able to keep. But when he told his mum about it, she lit up and told him he had to and how great an opportunity it would be to get back into something he loved.

And so they had spent the rest of that evening looking up the best beaches in the UK and researching specific areas once they had narrowed it down to Cornwall. Sarah had looked up accommodation while Nick looked up new cameras and lenses. He still had a bunch of 30^th Birthday Guilt Money from his dad burning a hole in his bank account and it seemed like a good idea to invest in something he used to love so much. It helped that his dad never approved of the hobby, of course, and even Sarah had a little cackle about that part.

So now here he was, crossing the short distance from his home for the next month and a half towards Praa Sands beach. The village was tiny, barely more than a couple of hundred houses sloping down from the main road towards the coast and a few shops and cafés dotted along the way. Nick was grateful he’d driven down; he would’ve been absolutely stuck had it not been for his trusty little Fiat Punto.

As Nick reached the steps down from the car park to the beach, that tiny bit of sun he had seen trying to escape had been well and truly engulfed by grey again. Typical, Nick thought. The beach was still beautiful to look at, but he knew it would look dull and boring through the lens of his camera.

A walk would do him good anyway, though. He had spent enough time cooped up in his Airbnb, as lovely as it was, and the freshness would hopefully help to snap him out of his funk. He wandered down onto the beach and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the sea air filled his nostrils. It was different from the beach he used to take Nellie to, of course, but all beaches had that same feeling deep down. The salty breeze, the yapping of happy dogs chasing their balls and the gentle lapping of the water on the shore. The lighting might have been shit, Nick mused, but at least he was here.

Nick turned to walk towards the large rocks at the right end of the beach, chasing the small crack of sun he had seen earlier. He couldn’t seem to stop the smile creeping onto his face – as hard as things had been lately, Nick was glad to be away now. He loved the beach, always had, and even without Nellie it felt good to be back on one. This one in particular was gorgeous, even in the drizzle, with high grassy cliffs and sand dunes bordering each end. Nick made a mental note to climb up when – if – the sun finally came out so he could get a proper view of the beach.

As he finally approached the rocks, he felt the first proper drop of rain. It started slowly, but within a minute it was almost hailing on him, his light brown jacket already looking a few shades darker. Fuck.

He had spotted a bar as he’d walked along the beach a little way back – Sundance, he remembered it was called. There was a large wooden veranda in front of it with outdoor seating, but he was sure there would be some inside space, too. Nick adjusted his cap to try and keep the rain out of his face and then strode towards shelter.

He felt like a wet dog by the time he got inside, which meant he fit right in because the place was half full of them. Nick loved that about Cornwall, that it was so dog friendly. As he looked around to try and find a spot, Nick’s breath caught in his throat.

Because fuck, there was a dog in the corner who looked exactly like Nellie. Her colouring was the same, the markings on her face were the same, her tail shape was the same. She was shorter than Nells but as he got closer, Nick could see the exact same all-knowing look in her eyes.

Christ. And now Nick was going to burst into tears at the sight of a stranger’s dog in the middle of a cafe.

As he approached a nearby table, the dog spotted him and sat up happily, her tail wagging.

“Oh, sorry lovely,” the owner said to him. “She always wants to say hello to everyone. Ignore her if you want.”

“Oh, no – can I…?” he asked, kneeling down in front of the dog when her owner smiled and nodded. “Hello, gorgeous. Look at you,” he cooed, his throat tight.

God, her eyes. It was like looking at Nellie again.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “She just – she looks exactly like mine. We lost her recently. What’s her name?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, love,” the woman said softly. “It’s so hard, isn’t it? This is Poppy.”

“Poppy.” Nick grinned through misty eyes. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

The owner grinned. “Wait until there’s food around.”

Nick chuckled knowingly and looked back at Poppy, giving her a good scratch behind her ears. She panted and nuzzled into his hands, her tongue lolling out of her mouth happily. He couldn’t look away from her; it felt exactly like looking at Nellie. Anyone could have called him sentimental and sappy and sad, but it felt almost like she was talking to him again, telling him something.

“You okay, Nells?” he whispered inexplicably, bowing his head down to meet the top of the dog’s. Poppy whined, a happy noise, and Nick smiled as he breathed in.

He forced himself to stand up after that, not wanting to embarrass himself any more than he already had. It was fucking stupid to get emotional over a random dog in a pub and Nick absolutely, point blank refused to start crying.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to the poor unsuspecting human he had ambushed. “Thanks.”

Nick weaved his way towards the opposite side of the room, hiding Poppy from view so he could carry on with his day without crying in public. He dumped his DSLR bag down onto the bench beside him and removed his film camera from around his neck, resting it carefully on the table as he sat down.

It was a nice place, if a little strange. Nick couldn’t quite tell if it was a pub, a café, or a restaurant, but he felt comfortable there either way. The wood slatted walls were painted in a deep navy blue and the low-hanging lights in their wicker shades made the space feel safe and warm, even with the rain pelting down outside.

The atmosphere just felt nice. There was a waitress laughing with what looked like regular customers at a table nearby, asking about their kids. There were dogs greeting each other with tail wags and the occasional huff of a bark. There were two curly haired men behind the bar, one with thick rimmed glasses twirling a cocktail shaker around and grinning at the customers watching, and one leaning an elbow on the counter and rolling his eyes at the antics on display. Nick focused on the second for a moment. While he looked bored and exasperated, there was a look in his eyes that gave away his fondness. His hair was less tightly coiled than the other man’s but still curled beautifully, a few perfect ringlets falling across his forehead. His navy hoodie almost drowned him and proudly displayed the Sundance logo towards the left of his chest. Nick looked away, feeling hot under the collar and a little bit like a creep for staring for a moment too long for no reason.

Nick checked the menu once more, though he knew from a glance what he was going to order. When he made his way over to the bar, the taller of the curly-haired men greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hello hello, welcome! What can I get you today?”

“Hey, uh. Can I get –”

“Michael!” A female voice called out from the kitchen, making the barman jump.

“Oops, sorry, sir,” the man, Michael, said. “I just need to – Charlie, can you grab this order for me?”

The other man turned and looked at Michael, and then very briefly at Nick, before he sighed and slowly made his way over to them.

“What was that thing we said about smiling, Springtime Sunshine?” Michael laughed before he spun away towards the kitchen.

Nick blinked at the other man, Charlie, who was staring after Michael with an unamused look.

“You don’t – you don’t have to smile,” Nick said stupidly.

What the fuck, Nick?

“I am aware, thank you,” the barman responded with a raised eyebrow. His expression was blank but there was something shining in his eyes – eyes that were dark but bright and drew Nick in without him even knowing why.

Not as grumpy as he wants people to think he is, Nick realised.

 “What can I get you, then?” Charlie asked, one hand hovering in front of the till screen.

Nick wasn’t usually self-conscious about ordering food but for some reason he wanted this curly-haired stranger to think he was cool. He was half tempted to order something he would never eat, something sophisticated like the mussels or something, but then his stomach rumbled and reminded him that he was too hungry to try and impress anyone.

“Can I get a portion of chips and the bread and oils, please? And a latte?”

If Charlie judged his choices, he didn’t show it. He tapped away at his screen and gave absolutely nothing away.

“Sitting inside or out?”

Nick shot a glance out of the floor to ceiling windows at the torrential rain, and then looked back at Charlie with a bewildered expression.

“I was kidding,” Charlie clarified, deadpan.

Nick flushed. The whole interaction was making him feel like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, weirdly itchy and on edge. He blamed the weather and his own weird mood for how completely out of sorts he felt.

“We’ll bring it over when it’s ready,” Charlie said and Nick immediately ducked his head and turned back towards his table, wincing as soon as he was out of Charlie’s line of sight.

He settled back at his table, letting his head fall back against the wall as he closed his eyes for a moment and tried to recalibrate. God, he was a mess. Nick knew that he used to be better at existing than this, that he used to be able to smile and joke and be kind to strangers. These days, he only seemed to be able to stumble over his words and miss jokes and embarrass himself.

With a shake to try and pull himself together, Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had half a dozen messages he hadn’t had the energy to respond to, from his mum and a couple of his friends asking how he was settling in. He shot a quick text back to his mum to say he loved her and he was happy to be away, which was only half a lie, and then opened his group chat with Tara and Darcy.

Darcy: nicckkkyyyyyy are you alive all the way down there?

you should know that we came last at the pub quiz last night because you abandoned us and we are Not sporty gays and it is all your fault

Tara: Ignore them. How are you, Nick? We miss you xxx

Nick scrubbed a hand down his face and scratched at his beard as he thought about how to respond.

I feel like shit was typed and then swiftly deleted. Why can’t I function normally anymore? went the same way. It’s raining and I hate it and I want to go home to Nellie but I can’t because she’s gone and it’s not fair was too much like the truth.

Instead, Nick typed something as neutral as possible. He didn’t need his friends to worry about him, anyway.

All good here, the house is nice and the beach is even nicer. Raining but meant to clear up soon. Miss you both, talk soon x

As soon as it was sent, Nick groaned and tipped forward, letting his head fall onto the table with a thunk. He scrunched his eyes up so tightly that he saw stars, half hoping that maybe if he squeezed hard enough then he would be able to transport himself back in time. Back to when he was happy, when he wasn’t lying to his friends, when he felt like it was all worth it. Back to when Rowan still loved him and he returned the feeling, back to when he would go home for a weekend and Nellie would sleep tucked up beside him in his childhood bed, back to when he felt normal.

“Your latte.” A voice interrupted his thoughts.

Nick sat up abruptly, eyes wide as Charlie carefully placed a mug of coffee on a saucer down in front of him.

“Are you – okay?” Charlie questioned, looking like he’d rather be doing anything else than asking a stranger how he was. “I – it would be an awful lot to carry on my conscience if my bad joke was the final straw in a downward spiral that ends up with you in the sea.”

Nick could see the joke this time, at least. He could also detect the genuine concern under Charlie’s spiky delivery.

“Sorry. I’m okay. No diving for me today.”

“Just today?”

With a snort, Nick shook his head. “No plans for any swims. Promise.”

“Good.” Charlie nodded, glancing down at Nick’s table again. He let out a breath when he caught sight of Nick’s film camera still sitting there. “Ah. I see.”

And then Nick was lost again. To be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure that he would follow Charlie’s line of thought here even at his best.

Charlie shook his head. “Never mind. I’m finishing up but Michael will bring your food out when it’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Nick muttered, ducking his head again.

He heard Charlie start to walk away before stopping, then a pause.

“Don’t make me read an article about you washing up in Penzance tomorrow, yeah?”

Nick huffed a humourless laugh as he looked back up at Charlie. “You don’t need to worry.”

Charlie watched him for a moment and then hummed and nodded, seemingly satisfied. He turned and walked away without so much as a second glance, ending one of the weirdest interactions of Nick’s life like it was completely normal.

He didn’t sleep well that night. The empty memory card in his camera and those strange, captivating eyes haunted any dreams he had while he did manage to doze, but they didn’t last long. Nick refused to pay them any mind when he woke up; he was here to get beach landscapes to help out a friend and to clear his head, not to get caught up in anyone new.

Nick knew what he was like; he fell fast and he fell hard. The last thing he needed right now was to fall over his fumbling feet and into a new obsession. Rowan had said it in no uncertain terms at the end, that Nick was too much, and he was right. Nick needed to learn how to function on his own again, and he was here to do that. Alone.

And yet, Nick went back to Sundance the next day, and the next. It was still grey and miserable outside so any good photography was out and the food had been so good there. Nick hadn’t been bothered to try and find a big supermarket to stock up on what he couldn’t get at the local corner shop down the road and he needed to at least try and eat a vegetable this week. So, Sundance it was.

His repeat appearance, of course, had nothing to do with the way Charlie’s lips had curled upwards the second day Nick had shown up, or how he’d nodded and said, “you again.” Nick didn’t care if Charlie recognised him after one meeting, because Nick absolutely was not going there.

The third day in a row that he went in, Charlie came over to his table before he even made it to the bar to order. He had a couple of empty plates resting on his left arm and two mugs held in his right hand.

“This is becoming a habit.” Charlie pointed out, giving Nick a look that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Sorry. I – I like the food.”

“I can tell. Tori keeps saying she’s never seen such clean plates as she does when you’re in.”

“Oh. Right, yeah. I guess so.”

“I’m joking again,” Charlie said flatly.

“Of course.” Nick cringed. Why couldn’t he fucking converse anymore?

Charlie rolled his eyes, but he looked too amused for Nick’s liking. “Wait there, I’ll bring your latte across.”

Nick fidgeted with his phone while he waited, surprised that Charlie had just assumed he would want a coffee. It didn’t annoy him, exactly, but he did feel a bit irked about being so damn predictable, even to someone who had known him for approximately ten minutes in total.

When Charlie returned, he surprised Nick by sitting in the seat opposite him as he placed Nick’s cup in front of him. Nick looked up at him questioningly.

“So. Are you on holiday or something? You’re not local.”

“No, not local.” Nick agreed.

“This is a strange little place to stay on your own for a holiday. Unless you’re here with someone?”

He couldn’t help but feel like Charlie was fishing for something. Maybe Nick did still have some social awareness left in him after all.

“I’m here alone. I wanted somewhere quiet, not one of the big towns.”

“I see. Photographer?”

“Oh, no. Or very, very amateur at best. I’m a teacher, actually.”

Charlie’s eyebrows lifted at that information. Was he impressed? Intrigued?

“Well, Mr Teacher-Not-Quite-Photographer,” he said as he stood up again. “Welcome to Cornwall. If you need any advice on where to go, that curly-haired giant with the too-big smile behind the bar loves to help any lost visitor who comes our way.”

Nick made the conscious decision not to be disappointed that Charlie was offering Michael’s services and not his own. Instead, he mentally psyched himself up to say, “it’s Nick.”

“What?”

“My name. Nick. A bit catchier than what… what you called me.” Nick trailed off, feeling less confident by the second that Charlie would have any interest in knowing his name.

“Well, Nick. Enjoy your coffee. Come up to the bar as usual if you want some food, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“That’s Michael, if you need his help,” Charlie continued, not seeming to be ready to leave Nick’s table yet. “And I’m Charlie.”

And then he couldn’t leave quick enough. Just as well, Nick thought, lest he embarrass himself by saying something stupid and stalkerish like I know.

On day four, the rain held off all morning. Nick had been eyeing the outdoor tables at Sundance ever since he had first been and he was pleased that he might actually get a chance to use one today. Unfortunately, it seemed the whole of Praa Sands had had the same idea. Nick stood on the decking and watched for anyone who looked like they were about to leave and then caught a glimpse of those now familiar dark curls.

Nick hovered, not wanting to intrude. Charlie’s table was the only one with any space, but he was engrossed in a book and Nick would hate himself if he disturbed the few moments of peace that Charlie got in his day.

He must have noticed Nick lurking though because he looked up with a questioning expression.

“Did someone pause you?” He asked, closing his book after slotting a delicate thumb between the pages to keep his place.

“Sorry,” Nick murmured, starting to turn away until Charlie spoke again.

“You know, Nick, you say sorry an awful lot for someone who hasn’t actually done anything wrong.”

“Oh, sor- I – yeah. I’m working on it.”

“Are you?”

That surprised a laugh out of Nick and he scratched at the short hairs at the back of his head, feeling caught out. “No.”

“Sit down, Nick. I don’t bite.”

His tone suggested he might bite, actually, but Nick sat down anyway. Since it wasn’t raining, he hadn’t brought his camera bag today. Instead, he had left his film camera behind and his DSLR hung around his neck in its place. He removed it carefully and set it on the tabletop.

“That’s an awfully expensive looking camera for someone who claims they aren’t very good.” Charlie pointed out, looking vaguely unimpressed by the whole thing.

Nick felt a bit stupid if he was honest. Who did he think he was spending money on fancy shit like this and indulgent summer holidays when he could’ve used it to help himself get through life the following year?

His mum’s voice rang in his ear though, grounding him a little. You never spend any money on you, Nicky. Do something you love for once, sweetheart.

“I enjoy it?” he said to Charlie, the words coming out like a question. “I got a bit of money for my birthday and wanted to get something for me. It sounds stupid now. Spoiled. I wanted to see if it helped.”

“Helped?”

“Never mind.”

“Hmm,” Charlie narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether to push the point or not. In the end, he shrugged and put his book down properly. “Okay, well, I need evidence. Show me some shots.”

“You don’t want to see my stupid pictures,” Nick chuckled, shaking his head.

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Nick watched him for a moment. Charlie looked good today in a long-sleeved Sundance t-shirt and his curls ruffling in the sea breeze. Nick hadn’t been able to make out the colour of his eyes inside the bar but out here they were stunning – bright blue with darker flecks through them. He felt the overwhelming need to see them in the sunshine, to see how dazzling they would be in good light. His fingers itched for his camera.

“Please?” Charlie pouted. He ducked his head and looked up at Nick through his eyelashes.

Jesus. Nick’s stomach flipped, and he tried very hard to ignore it.

“Fine,” he sighed, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He had an album of photos he had taken years ago, of Nellie and his mum and his friends and, most of all, of beaches he had visited.

Charlie took the offered phone and started to scroll. Nick felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin at the blank expression on his face as he looked through something Nick had barely ever shown anyone. What was the point, anyway? It’s not as if they were worth showing.

After what felt like a decade, Charlie handed his phone back and nodded.

“They’re really good. You were being modest before.”

“Not really.”

“The dog in all those pictures… she looks like Poppy, but they weren’t taken here, right?”

Nick frowned, trying to remember where he had heard that name recently. “Oh!” he realised. “No, that’s – this is Nellie. She’s my dog. Was… um. Was my dog.”

A look of realisation settled onto Charlie’s face. “Okay, I get it now. They really are very similar.”

Nick looked down at the picture on his phone and smiled sadly. “Yeah. It sounds weird, but they had the same look in their eyes. I know I sound crazy.”

“No, you don’t sound crazy. Trust me, I know crazy,” Charlie said in a tone that told Nick that there was a story there. Nick, against his better judgement, wanted to know what it was. He wanted to know everything about Charlie.

“Anyway, see? Told you I’m not very good.”

Charlie squinted at him. “You’re hard to read, you know. I can’t tell if you’re fishing for compliments or if you’re actually that self-critical.”

Nick shrugged. He definitely wasn’t fishing, but admitting to a practical stranger that he really had no faith in his abilities seemed a bit much.

“So, Nick. Are you here for the week?”

“The summer, actually.”

“Oh,” Charlie nodded. “For work or fun or…?”

“For a break,” Nick answered as honestly as he could. “I was in need of a change of scenery and Google told me the beaches were nice here.”

“Mm, they are if the sun comes out. It’s unusually dreary for July this year.”

“Yeah. I was hoping to get some practice in. I promised my friend I would get some pictures for an exhibition she’s running in September, but it seems… highly unlikely at the moment.”

“Oh, so you’re not very good but you’re going to be in an exhibition?” Charlie said with a teasing smile. His foot brushed Nick’s shin as he crossed his legs under the table and Nick, once again, tried his best to ignore how his body reacted to Charlie.

“She just needed some background stuff to fill the space, it’s nothing special,” Nick countered. “But the theme is sunlight, so it’s not likely I’ll be able to help anyway.”

Charlie looked at him thoughtfully. “You need to go to St Ives.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, Nick. Didn’t you do any research? It’s where all the artists go to paint or draw or photograph. The light there is… it’s something else. It’s special. I’m surprised Google didn’t tell you.”

“Guess Google can’t help with everything, huh?” Nick half-joked. “Is it close, St Ives?”

Charlie considered him for a moment and then rested his elbows on the table in front of him decisively. “Fine, look. There’s no point in you moping around this fucking bar for the next six weeks or getting lost in the countryside. I’ll show you around. I know some spots that might be good for photos even in shit weather.”

“Oh, no, Charlie… you don’t have to do that. If I’m annoying you being here all the time, I can take myself around. Google can still do that much. I couldn’t ask you to –”

“Nick. You’re not asking, I’m offering. I’m bored as shit around here on my days off anyway. Let me be your tour guide. If you want me?”

There was something there, Nick knew that much. The way Charlie’s eyebrow was arched, the curve of his lips, the way he said want me. Nick could feel it crackling between them, building up over every conversation they'd had so far. And fuck, yeah, okay. Maybe it was too soon for anything real, anything long-term, but Nick could absolutely go for a rebound fling right about now.

And so Nick stared right back at Charlie with the beginnings of a smirk and replied, as confidently as he could, “yeah. I want you.”

Chapter Text

Drove to the ocean
On a Monday afternoon
Stopped for some coffee
As black as I felt blue
But I was with you

Trying to let this trouble of mind be free of the time
Trying to see through the malaise that's causing this daze

Walked the shoreline while the sea birds looked for food
Felt the ocean wash over my mood
And I was with you

🌊🌊🌊

Nick had agreed to meet Charlie at the beach car park a couple of mornings after he’d offered to take Nick to St. Ives to chase the light.

“You’ll have to drive, though. I usually borrow my sister’s car but she needs it tomorrow,” Charlie had explained, which was fine by Nick.

The nerves fully sunk in as he was waiting next to his car. He had only had a couple of conversations with Charlie and they weren’t exactly big, heartfelt get-to-know-you’s. Nick used to be told all the time that he could make friends with a lamppost, but he hadn’t felt that way about himself for some time now. Surely Charlie would spend five minutes with him, realise he made a mistake and run ten miles in the opposite direction.

He wanted to run away himself. Waiting for Charlie was making him regret taking him up on his offer. He was about one thought-spiral away from getting into his car and driving off alone when he heard a voice call his name.

Nick turned to see Charlie striding towards him. He was wearing a pair of denim shorts that hugged his thighs in a way that made Nick feel hot inside and a checked shirt in different shades of blue over a grey t-shirt. He readjusted his tote bag on one shoulder as he approached Nick’s little red car.

“Nice wheels,” Charlie smirked. “What are you, a seventeen-year-old who has just passed his driving test?”

“I’m thirty,” Nick responded automatically. He cringed as soon as he said it. “Right, joke. I know.”

“You’re learning. Come on, boy racer. Let’s get going before the rain starts again.”

It wasn’t a great distance to St. Ives. Charlie immediately demanded the aux cable to connect his phone, playing all sorts of bands that Nick had never heard of as they drove. He rolled his eyes at Nick’s ignorance, promising to educate him on music as well as the best beaches in Cornwall.

Most of the drive was relatively quiet, but it wasn’t as weird as Nick had expected it to be. So often silence felt suffocating and Nick had a bad habit of trying to fill the spaces with awkward rambles. Now, he just let himself be.

He kept half an eye on the view as they drove along winding roads and through small village after small village, answering the occasional question from Charlie or asking who the current band was. The clouds had cleared slowly the further North they travelled and Nick, finally, felt hopeful that he might actually be able to take at least one good photo today. There wasn’t much to see until they came to the top of one last hill. As the car struggled up and over the final incline, Nick’s breath caught in his throat.

St. Ives was gorgeous, all golden sands and unbelievably turquoise waters. It felt like they had driven up the road from England and landed right in his old family holiday spot in Menorca. Except this may have been even more stunning.

He glanced at Charlie, who was watching him with a wide smile. A real smile. Not teasing, not smug, but genuinely pleased. Nick’s stomach tightened and he turned away quickly, focusing on the drive downwards instead.

Charlie directed him to a car park which they could walk down into town from. The footpath offered even better views once they set off. The steep stone steps lead down a winding path towards the sea, which was an absolutely ridiculous shade of blue even without the sun out in full force. Charlie pointed out landmarks they could see as they walked; the impressive Tate Gallery and the harbour where it was laid out beneath them.

“I’m going to sit with a coffee and let you loose, okay? It’s not the best view you’ll get in Cornwall but just play with the light - it’s really special here. A friend of mine makes short films and he always nags me to bring him here when he visits.”

When they got to the harbour, Nick insisted on buying Charlie a coffee to thank him for the advice. Charlie argued but relented eventually with another genuine smile. He dug a book out of his bag and settled on a bench, waving Nick and his cameras off onto the beach and claiming that he refused to get his shoes dirty for the sake of Nick’s photographs. Nick looked down at Charlie’s white Converse, battered and filthy, and raised an eyebrow. Charlie grinned and shrugged and told him to fuck off already.

So off Nick fucked. The beach was full of families and dogs running around or parked up with colourful windbreakers surrounding them. Those weren’t the ideal conditions for taking photos but it still looked lovely despite the crowds. There were boats scattered near the harbour walls and Nick made a note to come back and watch as the tide came in and lifted them back up. He snapped a few shots of them as they were, resting on the sand, before he moved further towards the water.

He took a deep breath in, instantly feeling himself relax as the fresh air filled his lungs. It truly was a beautiful beach and Nick immediately felt comfortable as he wandered across the vast stretch of sand, dodging screaming kids as he went. The patches of blue sky instantly cheered him up and the view from behind his lens was maybe, possibly even worth sending a few photos to Elle. Nick walked right to the end of the beach, as far as he could get before the tide cut him off, and then slowly made his way back towards Charlie and his book.

They talked far more on the drive back to Praa Sands. Nick couldn’t help but babble about St. Ives and Charlie humoured him, even if that did include mostly sarcastic comments about Nick’s enthusiasm. It was never mean though, never enough to make Nick shrink back into his seat and stop himself talking. Instead, it felt like being jibed by a close friend he had known his whole life. Nick learned that Charlie was staying with his sister, who was a chef at Sundance, and her partner Michael, who Nick had already briefly met at the bar. The two of them owned and ran the place together and when Charlie had needed a change of scenery, they had offered him a job and a room in their house. Charlie talked so fondly of them both, even as he complained about how nosy his sister was about Charlie’s personal life. A personal life that Nick felt pretty nosy about himself, actually.

Nick dropped Charlie back off at the beach car park so he could meet his sister at Sundance for a lift home. Charlie left him with a wave and a promise to meet him again the following morning for their next trip. He had the evening shift but insisted he would have time to take Nick out first, so long as he was back in Praa Sands by 3.30pm.

“You really don’t have to keep doing this, especially on days you’re working. I feel bad for monopolising all your free time,” Nick had told Charlie before they parted.

“Nick. I both live and work with my moody sister and her very cheerful partner. All my best friends live halfway across the country. Trust me, you’re doing me the favour.”

And so that was that. Charlie had put his number in Nick’s phone – “just in case” – and then walked away without a second glance.

Nick went back to his flat and looked through his photos. They were nothing special, but that was kind of to be expected after all the time he’d had off. He definitely couldn’t send them to Elle, but his mum might enjoy seeing them. He wanted to go down to Sundance for food that evening but he stopped himself, instead walking along to the shop and buying himself a shitty frozen ready meal and a couple of beers. He half-watched mindless telly but his mind was on where Charlie might take him the next day and what they might talk about.

He had so much to learn about Charlie and he wanted to know all of it. Why was he here, living with his sister? How long had he been here, was he happy and did he want to stay? Who was the friend he kept mentioning today and was he more than a friend, or did the way Charlie looked at Nick mean something? Were those teasing looks and sly smiles reserved for him, or was Charlie like that with everyone?

Eventually, Nick gave up pretending to focus on anything else and went to bed. He dreamt of full lips and damp curls and woke up feeling far too hot under his thin sheet.

Fuck.

It rained the next day, so Charlie directed Nick to Trengwainton Garden, which was apparently mostly sheltered by towering trees.

“So the name comes from the Cornish language ‘gwenton’, which means Springtime,” Charlie told him with a wry smile as they ambled up the hill together slowly, walking through the plants and trees and stopping periodically to look at something for a moment longer. Charlie was obsessed with the fine layers of the camellias, staring at them for so long that Nick started to twitch with the need to move. He took plenty of photos of the flowers at Charlie’s insistence, and then couldn’t help but snap one of Charlie as he gazed down at them.

“Oi,” Charlie narrowed his eyes. “That’s my face. I’ll charge you for that.”

He should, Nick thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. Do you want me to delete it?”

“You’re fine,” Charlie shook his head and then turned to carry on walking. As he did, he craned his neck to look at Nick behind him and winked. “I don’t mind being papped out in the wild.”

He had let himself take more after that, though limited himself as much as he could. He couldn’t help but get a shot of Charlie walking through the overgrown fern trees that lined the path, his hands outstretched to gently brush against the delicate leaves on either side of him. While the photo was from behind, Nick could tell that Charlie was smiling.

As they approached the top of the hill, Nick asked if Charlie often went on trips like this.

“I try. I mean, you’ve seen Praa Sands, it’s tiny. We live a bit further up the hill where there’s even less to do. I kind of like taking myself off to explore when Tori doesn’t need the car.”

“Have you lived here all your life?” Nick allowed himself to ask.

“God, no,” Charlie shuddered, but he didn’t offer any further information. He picked a leaf off a tree as he passed and twirled it around in his fingers.

“What made you come here, then?”

Charlie considered him for a moment and something shifted in his expression. “A breakup, kind of. In a roundabout way. I needed to get out of Durham, where I was living at the time. Going back home wasn’t an option for me. I lived with my friend Tao in London for a while but I felt like I was in the way. Tori and Michael had been settled here for a while so when I needed somewhere to go, they told me to come here. That was… fuck, nearly two years ago now. Christ.”

A familiar story, Nick couldn’t help but think. Except, of course, he didn’t have a supportive sibling he could count on. He was lucky to have his mum, though.

“What about you?” Charlie asked when Nick didn’t respond. “You said that you hoped coming here would… help?”

“Also a breakup, actually,” Nick admitted as they came to a clearing in the trees. “My mum suggested getting away so here I am.”

“You’re close with your mum then?”

“Yeah,” Nick shrugged, trying not to get too gushy about her too soon. Charlie didn’t need to know he was a pathetic mummy’s boy. “She’s great. Are you close with your parents?”

Charlie laughed, a slightly hysterical sound that surprised Nick into looking at him suddenly. “Sorry. Um, no. Not close.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Anyway… here we are, enjoy your view.”

Nick turned to look in the direction Charlie was gesturing in, ready to be blown away like he was yesterday when he first saw St. Ives. Instead, he was met with a wall of grey.

“Ah.”

“Yeah. I promise it’s nice on a clear day, but… well.”

Nick groaned as the rain went from a light drizzle to a downpour again as soon as they stepped out from the shelter of the trees. Charlie reached for the sleeve of Nick’s jacket and pulled him along, rushing towards a white, wooden arbour that stood against a wall at the top of the grassy patch. By the time they were under the protection of its roof, they were both already half soaked.

For some reason entirely beyond him, Nick couldn’t stop laughing. He collapsed onto the benched seating and tipped forward, unable to stop himself. When he looked up, Charlie was watching him with a bemused and slightly concerned expression.

“Sorry,” Nick wheezed, trying to pull himself together. “It’s just – it’s typical, innit?” He nodded towards the complete lack of view. “Just my luck.”

“Right, because the whole world is against you.”

Nick snorted at Charlie’s tone and gave him an amused look. “Something like that.”

They stayed hidden under their little private cover until the rain eased a little, mostly in silence. Nick was struck again by how comfortable it was, being with Charlie like this. He felt like he was simply existing rather than working too hard to please someone. It was almost unnerving how relaxed he felt.

As Charlie got up and told Nick to follow him back towards the gardens, Nick decided to just try and enjoy it.

He tried his best not to go down to Sundance the next day. He could absolutely go for twenty-four hours without seeing Charlie. He should go twenty-four hours without seeing Charlie. He already missed him, which was simply ridiculous. Nick shouldn’t feel this addicted to his company, shouldn’t crave being sassed at and laughed at.

Fuck. He really needed to get his act together.

It was pissing it down with rain again, so Nick ruled out any more trips. He wasted the morning and much of the afternoon scrolling through his phone and dozing and grazing on whatever snacks he still had lying around the flat. By late afternoon, he realised he should probably do something vaguely productive, so he opened the sliding balcony doors and looked out over the dreary and grey view.

He settled himself on the sofa pointed towards the open doors and pulled his laptop onto his knees to start looking through his pictures from the previous day. They were mostly useless. He couldn’t make out anything from the viewpoint at the top of the gardens because the sea and the sky were the same shade of dull, merging into one another and making for pretty shit photos. Some of the flower pictures were okay, the daisies in particular. He saved them into his ‘for mum’ folder.

And then, of course, there were the few pictures he’d managed to get of Charlie. He lingered on the one where Charlie was admiring the camellias and couldn’t help but smile. While Charlie hadn’t been prepared for the picture being taken, he looked so good. Nick stared at that photo for far too long. When his stomach rumbled while he was still staring at it, his only thought was fuck it. He shut his laptop, clambered off the sofa, grabbed his jacket and cap, and made his way down to Sundance.

“Couldn’t stay away, eh?” Charlie smirked at him when he walked in.

Nick flushed and tried to find a way to appear much cooler than he was, but Charlie was already rolling his eyes. Fondly, Nick thought.

“Sit down, Photo Boy. I’ll bring your coffee over.”

With a grateful smile, Nick headed towards what was becoming his usual table. He had a great view of both the beach and the bar from here, as well as having the added bonus of being near the door so any dogs coming in would automatically come over to give him a sniff.

Views, Charlie and dogs. What could Nick say? He was easily pleased.

Long after he had finished his coffee and burger, Charlie appeared with a pint of cider and placed it in front of Nick. When Nick looked at him questioningly, Charlie shrugged. “Tori gets grumpy if people sit in here without at least a drink. Don’t want you getting kicked out now, do we?”

He turned and walked away as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Nick with the realisation that Charlie didn’t want him to leave.

By 8.30pm, the place was nearly empty and Nick was still there. Charlie was the only member of staff left behind the bar and he gestured for Nick to come over.

“Hang tight until I’ve closed up. The rains stopped so we can sit out for a bit and have a drink, yeah?”

And, well. Nick was hardly going to say no to that, was he?

After Charlie closed up, they moved to sit on the benches outside as the light changed around them. It was too cloudy for the sunset to look too impressive, but it was still quite pretty to look at.

So was Charlie. God, was he pretty.

Nick could feel himself getting steadily drunker as they talked. Charlie had brought a bottle of Lagavulin 16 out with them and Nick was always a lightweight on whisky, the burn and the buzz spreading pleasantly through his body.

“What?” Charlie asked, making Nick realise he had been looking for too long.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m – yeah. Sorry.”

Charlie raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. He reached for the metal cutlery holder in the middle of the table and emptied it out, and then reached into the pocket of his Sundance hoodie. He pulled out a sharpie and then started to write on it with the most endearing look of concentration on his face. After a moment, he beamed and turned it so that Nick could see what he’d written.

Apology Cutlery Thing, the slightly messy handwriting read.

“Fuck off,” Nick snorted, reaching to snatch it out of Charlie’s hand as Charlie cackled with glee.

“I swear to God, Nick, put 10p in every time you apologise unnecessarily. I’ll be rich by the time you leave.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “You’re going to be such a pain in my ass this summer, aren’t you?”

Charlie’s expression morphed into something mischievous and it took Nick a moment to realise what he had said.

“I didn’t mean – I – Christ, Charlie.”

“You’re so easy. I swear I just need to look at you and you start blushing.”

“Charlie,” he whined. He was well aware he sounded like a stubborn five year old, but his tone only seemed to make Charlie smile even wider.

Nick was a big fan of that smile. It came with dimples. Dimples. Nick wanted to poke them.

Christ. Maybe he was drunker than he thought.

As Nick was trying to figure out how to rebut in a way that didn’t make him sound like a pathetic, desperate mess, he felt Charlie’s foot nudge against his under the table. He looked up, half expecting Charlie to be avoiding his eye. Instead, Charlie was looking right back at him. Confident. Calm. A hint of something else, something softer, something that always seemed to be lingering just under the surface.

“Hi,” Charlie said when Nick met his eye.

The corner of Nick’s mouth curled upwards. “Hi?”

“You know I’m not really making fun of you, don’t you?”

Nick did know that. He knew he was too sensitive, knew he took things too seriously sometimes. He loved teasing his friends and being mocked by them in return, but when anyone else made similar comments then Nick’s eyes would prickle with embarrassing tears and his hackles shot right up. But he knew Charlie’s intentions weren’t mean. He was starting to suspect that there wasn’t a mean bone in Charlie’s body.

Nick nudged his foot back against Charlie’s. Instead of pulling it away after, he let it rest there. “Yeah, I know.”

They settled back into easy conversation after that, their feet tangled together. They taunted and they laughed and they shifted until their hands were touching on top of the table, too. It had started innocently enough, Nick showing him the photo of Charlie with the flowers from the day before, their fingers brushing as he handed the phone over. When Nick dropped it back down onto the table, they didn’t move far from each other.

Nick knew where this was going, he had been here before. And he may not have come here to start anything with someone new, but there was no way in hell he was going to stop it from happening if he had even half a chance to be with someone like Charlie. So he went with it, leaning further across the table and hooking his pinkie around Charlie’s. Charlie didn’t even blink, just squeezed Nick’s finger in return as he carried on talking like nothing unusual had happened.

By 23.30, Charlie started to shiver. Nick was quick to slip his jacket off and hand it over the table, but Charlie shook his head.

“It’s nearly midnight on an already cool day and that coat looks about twelve years old. I am certain it will not make me any warmer.”

“So fussy,” Nick rolled his eyes, the whisky loosening his tongue a little. He didn’t even hesitate before the next words came tumbling clumsily from his lips. “I could make you a cup of tea to warm you up if you want. At mine? I’m only across the road.”

Charlie looked like he was biting back a smile. “Are you inviting me over for a nightcap, Nicholas?”

Nick shrugged, shooting Charlie a so what if I am? kind of look. Charlie stood up, holding out a hand to help Nick up too.

“I thought you’d never ask. Let’s go, Photo Boy.”

Charlie dropped his hand once they were both standing, but they walked towards the steps up to the carpark with their shoulders pressed together. They didn’t say much but they shared a few lingering, heated glances as they made their way to Nick’s. When he let them in, Charlie wandered into Nick’s living room like he’d been there a thousand times before.

“Wow,” Charlie breathed, his eyes darting around the large open plan space.

“Right? I don’t know how I got it for such a steal at the last minute, to be honest.”

“Oh, that’s because it’s haunted.”

Nick swung his head around to look at Charlie, blinking owlishly. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s a thing among the locals here. Some old woman died here a few years ago and the family haven’t been able to sell it since, so they rent it out to tourists. You know, suckers like you.”

“Charlie! You’re, um. That’s not true, right?”

Charlie burst out laughing, shoving at Nick’s shoulder. “Oh, it’s one hundred percent true.”

“What!” Nick squeaked, turning around frantically as if the ghost of some poor little old lady would be right there behind him.

“Don’t shit yourself, Nick,” Charlie giggled, sauntering back over to pat him patronisingly on the arm. Nick’s gaze was stuck to the spot he had touched, even after Charlie had spun back towards the window. “The woman did die here, yeah, but there aren’t any fucking ghosts.”

“Don’t anger them!” Nick hissed, only half joking.

Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head at him. Nick noticed he did that a lot. Despite all of his tongue-in-cheek jokes, Charlie had been very serious looking in the short time Nick had known him so far. He didn’t smile all that much but when he did, it lit up the whole room.

“So. Easy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nick huffed.

Charlie snickered and looked at Nick, head tilted to one side. “So. As fun as bullying you is and as nice as your living room is, I have a feeling you didn’t ask me over to show me the view from the balcony.”

Nick, feeling like giving Charlie a little bit of shit back for once, nodded. “Nope. I believe I invited you for a cup of tea, actually. Shall I pop the kettle on?”

With that, Charlie’s confidence appeared to waver for a second. Then his mouth dropped open and he narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards Nick. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

Nick took his own step forward. “What’s wrong? You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

“Oh, I can take it,” Charlie shot back, his voice laced with innuendo.

Fuck. Okay. So it was going to happen, then.

“I, um,” Nick stammered, floundering again now that Charlie was directing that look at him. He tried his best to hold their eye contact, to be even half as smooth as Charlie. “Maybe we could skip the tea, then.”

Charlie’s perfect lips curved upwards as he took a final step into Nick’s space. He reached out and ran one of his hands up Nick’s arm, his shoulder, along until it rested gently on Nick’s neck. Nick could barely breathe, looking down at Charlie with what was probably an embarrassingly desperate look on his face.

“Yes, I think we better,” Charlie whispered, and then he spun on his heel and walked towards the doorway from the living room.

Christ.

Nick took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Charlie was so hot, so fucking hot, and Nick was already half hard just from the look in his eyes. He was never going to survive this.

“Nick.”

He turned towards the call of his name and found Charlie standing in the doorway, leaning against the woodwork. Nick almost cracked a smile at the expectant look on his face but he followed easily when Charlie turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Nick’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he steeled himself and followed after Charlie, trying his best to leave his nerves behind. This bit, he could do. He was good at it, or so he’d been told. Just because Charlie was possibly the most attractive person Nick had ever gone to bed with, that didn’t mean Nick should be worried. He knew how to make people feel good and he fucking loved doing it.

Charlie was waiting for him at the end of the hallway, his big blue eyes all wide and innocent. Bullshit, Nick thought, quickening his pace as he advanced on Charlie. He’d wipe that look right off his face in a heartbeat.

Charlie moved forward to meet him halfway, and then any reservations Nick still had evaporated in half a heartbeat. There was no holding back in the way they kissed, hot and eager from the instant their lips touched.

Kissing was easy. Kissing was fun. Nick had never had any complaints before, so he dove in with enthusiasm and a total lack of self-consciousness. Charlie responded in kind, holding him close with his arms around Nick’s neck and his whole body pressed up against him.

“This way,” Nick instructed when they came up for air, manoeuvring them both a few steps down the hallway and into his room.

Nick stripped off his hoodie as soon as they were inside, chucking it in the general direction of the chair in the corner of the room. Charlie did the same, tugging his Sundance jumper off and letting it drop to the floor before he pressed into Nick’s space again. His hands slid up under the sleeves of Nick’s t-shirt.

“Has anyone ever told you that your arms are ridiculous?” Charlie asked, his fingers squeezing around each of Nick’s biceps. “Fuck. See that first day you came into Sundance and you were wearing that fucking black t-shirt? I couldn’t stop staring at your stupid fucking arms.”

Nick chuckled, wrapping said arms around Charlie’s waist and dragging him towards the bed. He let himself topple onto it and pulled Charlie down on top of him. “You were staring, huh?”

“You didn’t notice?” Charlie laughed disbelievingly, sitting up on Nick’s thighs so he could work his belt open as Nick stripped his t-shirt off.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I mean, I wanted to fuck you. Like, right away. So hate was probably a bit off. I did think you were weird, though. Still do.”

“Are you always so charming to the people you want to fuck?” Nick asked as he shoved at his now open jeans, struggling to get them off his legs with Charlie still on top of him.

Charlie rolled off of him to push his own trousers down, turning his head to give Nick a winning grin. “What can I say? You bring something out in me.”

Nick kind of wanted to have the last word, but Charlie had already rolled back on top of him and now, only in their boxers, Nick could feel everything as their bodies pressed together.

“Shit,” he hissed as Charlie pressed his hips down, not wasting any time in trying to rile Nick up.

He let his hands skim down Charlie’s waist and over his hips, digging his fingers in as he encouraged his movements. Nick craned his head up, aching to be kissed again and Charlie complied with a smirk.

Fuck that cockiness, Nick thought, tightening his grip on Charlie and flipping them quickly so his body covered Charlie’s.

“Oh,” Charlie breathed, looking slightly disoriented as he looked up at Nick. “Strong.”

Nick didn’t bother responding with words, just dove back in for another kiss. He was addicted already; addicted to the way Charlie’s mouth moved and the way his hands slid into Nick’s hair and the sighs he let out when Nick ran his tongue over his lips. Nick hummed as Charlie’s fingers tightened in his hair and he slid his own hands up Charlie’s t-shirt, bunching the material up with him as he went.

“Off?”

Charlie nodded, but he didn’t let Nick move far enough away to actually remove the top. He huffed out a laugh as Charlie kept kissing him instead, clearly feeling the same way as Nick did about the way they kissed each other.

Nick wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Long enough that his lips started to hurt, long enough that Charlie was flushed and panting beneath him, long enough that they were both fully hard.

“Nick, fuck.” Charlie grabbed Nick’s hips to still him. “I don’t want to come in my boxers like a horny teenager. Fucking touch me already.”

And yeah, Nick could do that. He pushed himself up onto his knees, hands planted either side of Charlie’s head as he loomed over him. Charlie’s eyes caught on the chain dangling down from Nick’s neck and he licked his lips before looking up at Nick again.

“Can I suck you off?” Nick asked.

Charlie choked on his own breath. “Can you suck me off? Is that a real question?”

“I need you to say with words, please.”

Charlie paused and then smiled slowly. “Yes, do it. Please hurry up.”

Nick grinned, settling on his knees properly so he could bring one hand up to cup Charlie’s cheek. He leaned down to kiss him again, gentler this time, feeling the need to take his time all of a sudden. He let his hand trail down from Charlie’s cheek to his throat, not pressing or squeezing but just resting there oh so lightly. He was transfixed by the way his pale, freckled fingers looked against Charlie’s smoother, olive skin.

“Nick.” Charlie exhaled, his eyes darkening. “Now. Please.”

And who was Nick to refuse such a polite request? Charlie still had his t-shirt on but it didn’t feel like it mattered anymore. Nick rucked it up to Charlie’s chest so that he could kiss his way down his stomach before he nosed at him through his boxers.

“You smell good,” he murmured, pressing his nose into the crease of Charlie’s thigh.

“Nick, gross!” Charlie batted him on the shoulder. “Get a move on, will you?”

Nick laughed and complied, pulling Charlie’s boxers down and sliding one hand up his thigh, humming happily as Charlie wriggled under his touch. He couldn’t be bothered to tease him, not tonight, so he used his free hand to guide Charlie into his mouth right away. He kept his eyes on Charlie’s face, wanting to see his expression.

It didn’t disappoint.

“Fu-uk,” Charlie gasped, one hand gripping at Nick’s shoulder and the other bunching in Nick’s sheets.

Charlie’s hips lifted off the bed as Nick took him in further, using the hand on Charlie’s thigh to stop him from bucking up too much. He scratched his nails lightly down Charlie’s skin which was meant to be soothing but only resulted in Charlie letting out the most delicious noise. Nick hummed around him and Charlie squeezed his shoulder harder.

Nick tried his best not to press himself into the mattress while he worked. Most of his own pleasure came from what he could do for other people and knowing that he could make Charlie feel this good was enough to push him closer to the edge. He refused to let this finish without having Charlie touch him, though.

“Um, excuse me?” Charlie tried to glare at him when Nick sat back up.

Nick moved back up the bed, so they were face to face again. Charlie’s hand immediately found the back of Nick’s neck and brought him in for another heated kiss. Nick moaned into it and reached down to take Charlie in his hand again.

Yes, this was better. Being able to kiss Charlie while he took him apart was much better.

“Can I touch you, too?” Charlie panted against his mouth, hooded eyes searching for any hint of doubt.

“Please,” Nick groaned, moving to kiss Charlie’s throat. God, he was obsessed with Charlie’s throat. Was that weird? That was fucking weird, wasn’t it?

The thought evaporated the second Charlie wrapped a hand around him. Nick sucked in a desperate, shaky breath as they moved against each other.

“Not going to last long,” Charlie told him, using his free hand to guide Nick’s face back to look at him.

Fuck. Looking into Charlie’s eyes while they did this was absolutely not going to help Nick last. Icy blue drew him in and kept him there, trapped in the best possible way as their hands picked up speed.

“Nick, Nick.”

“Yeah.” Nick’s breath hitched as Charlie’s head fell back, his lips parting in a silent O as he finished over Nick’s hand. “Fucking hell, Charlie.”

Charlie’s hand had stilled after that, so Nick wrapped his own around Charlie’s and encouraged him to move again.

“I don’t need your help, thank you very much,” Charlie scolded him as he looked at Nick again, blissed out but determined.

It didn’t take long after that, with Charlie doubling down his efforts to prove his point. Soon enough he was adding to the mess on his sheets with Charlie’s smug smile etched behind his eyelids.

Fucking hell.

He reached for his duvet to clean his hand off and then offered for Charlie to do the same.

“Lovely,” Charlie grumbled sarcastically, but he used it anyway.

Nick turned to lie flat on his back while he caught his breath, Charlie doing the same. He could absolutely have fallen asleep there and then, but he needed to do something about his bedsheets and himself before he considered that. He was in no hurry, though.

Eventually, he rolled onto his side to look at Charlie. He was stunning, wild hair splayed around him on Nick’s pillow and his eyes all soft and sleepy. Once again, Nick felt the need to take his photo. Charlie belonged in front of the camera, and Nick wanted to be the one to put him there.

“I should go,” Charlie sighed, pulling back and rolling towards the edge of the bed. “Tori will be asleep by now and I have an early shift tomorrow.”

Oh. Right. One-night stands didn’t tend to stick around, Nick reminded himself.

“I’ll just – be right back,” Charlie reached down for his boxers and jeans and then scurried off towards the ensuite, closing the door behind him.

Nick sat and stared at the back of the door, wondering if they’d absolutely fucked everything up by having sex. He really thought they could be good friends, still wanted them to be friends. God knew Nick would need the company over the next month or so, and he wanted it to be Charlie’s company. He didn’t want to throw that opportunity away for one fuck.

He was about to start properly panicking about it when Charlie re-emerged from the bathroom looking much more put together. He looked less awkward now that he was fully dressed, shooting Nick an almost-smile.

“So, uh. I’ll see you, then?”

“Let me –” Nick started to climb out of bed so he could at least walk Charlie to the door, but Charlie shook his head and came over to him.

He stopped Nick with a hand to his shoulder. “I’ll see myself out,” he said. He hesitated for a moment, and then he leaned down to press a quick kiss to Nick’s mouth. “Okay. Bye.”

Nick watched him go, stock still until he heard the front door of the flat close. Then, he collapsed back onto the bed and threw his hand over his eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Chapter Text

Golden, like I've never seen
If you saw him too, you'd know what I mean
Holding the sun in hands
Anybody would understand
Why I wanna be anywhere he is
I'd do anything, I'll take all the risks
Something in his smile is so addictive
I'm calling dibs on the passenger seat

🌊🌊🌊

Nick woke up on the sofa, the morning light streaming in through the balcony doors. He’d been too exhausted to change his sheets after Charlie had left the night before, so he’d pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and passed out there instead.

In the cold light of morning, Nick felt a bit ridiculous. It wasn’t exactly the first time he had invited a near-stranger back to his house, but it was the first time he had felt so desperate when they got there. The way Charlie had kissed him was addictive and Nick had felt like a man possessed. The whole thing had been so rushed that Nick felt like he had barely taken anything in. He hadn’t studied the jut of his hips or the ridges of his ribcage, hadn’t committed every expression Charlie had made to memory. Nick hadn’t taken nearly as much time with him as he wanted to, and now he was almost certain that he would never get another chance.

Charlie had left so abruptly the night before that Nick was sure he had instantly regretted what had happened. He was used to people not staying the night, but Charlie didn’t even wait until his breathing had calmed before he'd hot-footed his way out of Nick’s flat. Nick was sure that the whole thing must have been a whisky-fuelled, one-time mistake.

Still. Something had felt different with Charlie. Nick had been attracted to Rowan, of course he had been. He had loved him for years and they had never had any issues with their sex life until the last few months when everything had started to fall apart. But the way Charlie had kissed him set something off in Nick that he wasn’t quite used to. The chemistry they had was at a level that Nick didn’t think he'd ever experienced before.

He let out a tired sigh and went to change his sheets and shower. He had no idea what he was going to do with his day without Charlie. He couldn’t go to Sundance; there was no way on Earth he could turn up at Charlie’s place of work when Charlie so clearly didn’t want to see him. He didn’t know where else to go so he grabbed his phone and scrolled until he found some decent looking beaches not too far away. As nice as it would have been to explore Cornwall with Charlie, Nick was a grown man and he could absolutely do this by himself.

He had just decided which direction to head in when there was a knock on his front door.

“Shit,” he hissed, quickly pulling on a pair of boxers and a zip up hoodie and stumbling towards the door.

When he pulled it open, he was surprised to see Charlie standing there, a slightly shy smile on his face but otherwise looking as calm as ever.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. His eyes flicked down Nick’s naked chest and to his bare feet, then back to his face. “Obviously not.”

“Go? Where are we going?”

“I told you I’d take you to Porthgwarra today, did I not?”

“Oh,” Nick blinked. “Yeah. I figured that was – um. Not happening anymore?”

“I promised to show you around so here I am to show you around. Get dressed, Photo Boy. I’ll wait by the car.” Charlie said, and then he was gone without even waiting for a response.

Well then, Nick thought. Friendship not ruined after all.

The problem with the friendship not being ruined, it turned out, was that now Nick knew what being with Charlie was like. He knew what faces Charlie made in the throes of pleasure, knew the sounds he made and the way his toes curled up when he came. Sitting beside him in the car was suddenly a whole lot harder than it had been two days ago. The electricity between them that used to thrum quietly beneath the surface was like a hundred lightning bolts striking him all at once now. Nick was aware of every shift of Charlie’s body next to him, every inhale and exhale, the way his mouth moved around his words. And God, Nick wanted to touch him again. He wanted to do so much with him.

Porthgwarra Beach was a good 45-minute drive away, but Charlie had assured him that it was worth driving the wet, winding roads for. It was a tiny inlet, a former fishing cove that was now apparently famous with tourists. Charlie told him some of the history of it as they walked down the muddy track towards the beach itself.

“Miners dug tunnels through the rock so that farmers could get their horses and carts down to collect seaweed,” he told Nick happily.

Nick couldn’t give a fuck about farmers and their seaweed if he was honest, but he could listen to Charlie talk all day so he shut up and bloody well listened. There was a slight hesitancy to Charlie today, which Nick couldn’t exactly blame him for seeing as Nick literally had his dick in his mouth a mere twelve hours before. The thought brought a blush to his cheeks that he hoped he could blame on the wind should Charlie ask about it. It had picked up speed today and was whipping Charlie’s curls in every which direction. He kept trying to flatten them with both hands but it was a lost cause, leaving Charlie huffing in frustration.

Adorable.

It was, as Charlie promised, nice and sheltered in the cove. It was beautiful, too. The sea was that same shimmering turquoise it had been in St. Ives, looking every bit like the Med instead of dreary England. There was a stone slipway that led towards golden sand and rocks and cliffs lining either side of the tiny beach.

“I know it’s pretty, but I’ll admit it’s not one of my favourites,” Charlie told him, kicking at a stone under his foot until it spun down the walkway into the sea. “They filmed some TV show or another here, so it’s more often than not filled with people who just want to take selfies. Cornwall is more than that and I think its history deserves to be what people visit for but hey. Each to their own, eh?”

“I love how much you love it here,” Nick admitted with a smile. “You act like you hate it but I see right through you, Charles.”

“Charles?”

Nick shrugged and brought his Canon up to look through the lens, snapping a few test shots. The images that appeared on the screen may not have heroed sunshine like he needed them to, but at least they picked up the intense colour of the sea.

“I really want to swim in that water.”

Charlie snorted out a laugh from beside him. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be washing up on any beaches.”

“Just swim. I swam in the sea all the time when we used to go to Menorca.”

“Hmm, the Mediterranean Sea versus the English Channel. I’m sure that would feel exactly the same.”

Nick ignored Charlie’s tone and beamed at him. “Swim with me.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Charlie squawked, looking at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “You do what you want, you giant weirdo, but I will be getting in that water over my own dead body.”

“I thought we agreed on no dead bodies,” Nick shot back. “I bet I'll get you in the water by the end of my trip. I give you three weeks before you’re in there with me.”

“Well, I sure do hope you enjoy losing, Nick, because that is never going to happen.”

Nick studied Charlie for a moment – the raised eyebrow, the scowl, the stubborn cross of his arms over his chest – and then he grinned.

Charlie was absolutely going to swim with him by the end of the summer.

By the start of Nick’s third week in Praa Sands, he had spent six consecutive days with Charlie, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ever lived without him. It turned out that they never ran out of things to talk about or ways to make each other laugh. They had moved past the one semi-drunken night of fumbled sex quickly enough and Nick chalked it down to them simply needing a quick release and nothing more. It had been almost a week since it had happened and, while Nick could still feel the tension between them, it hadn’t come close to happening again. Neither of them had even so much as mentioned it, and so Nick assumed that was that.

On Thursday, Charlie told him that he wouldn’t see him the next day. He had a day off and had plans in Newquay with some friends. It was all Nick could do to try not to miss him so soon, as absurd as that sounded. When he failed, he found himself making his way down to Sundance for lunch before he even fully knew what he was doing, as if being in Charlie’s workplace would be enough.

Nick had gotten to know Michael a little bit over the last week or so while he was visiting Charlie, and Charlie had been right; Michael was excessively cheerful. He was lovely, though, making every customer who came in feel welcomed and appreciated.

He looked up when Nick walked in and waved enthusiastically.

“Nick! Hello!” He cheered.

Nick couldn’t help but smile in return. “Hey, Michael.”

Another voice called his name and Nick turned to see Mrs Hewitt with Poppy sitting across the room. Nick smiled warmly and waved at her, gesturing that he’d come and say hi once he’d ordered. When he turned back to Michael, a woman had appeared beside him. Nick had no clue where the fuck she had come from, he had only looked away for a moment and suddenly they had company.

Nick knew instantly that she was Charlie’s sister. She had the same icy eyes, the same dark hair – although hers was pin-straight and styled in a short bob instead of falling in wild curls like Charlie’s.

“So,” she said, her eyes boring into Nick’s. “You’re the photographer, are you?”

“Oh, no,” Nick shook his head. “I mean, yes! But… no.” Tori raised an impatient eyebrow at him. Just like Charlie did at least once a day. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat and held his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Nick. I’m not a photographer, but I like fucking around with a camera sometimes.”

Tori didn’t shake his hand or even crack a smile. Nick couldn’t quite believe how similar she and her brother were, but Tori definitely hid her warmer side better than Charlie did.

“Right. And what exactly is it you want from my brother?”

“Ignore her,” Michael laughed, placing both his hands on Tori’s shoulders as he stood behind her. “What she means is that it’s nice to properly meet you. Right, Tor?”

Tori turned to glower at him and then back at Nick. “Hmm. Be careful with him. He’s… fragile.”

Fragile was quite possibly the last word Nick would use to describe Charlie. He may not have known him long, but he knew Charlie was self-assured and confident and more than capable of looking after himself. He wasn’t about to argue with the tiny woman currently glaring daggers into his soul, though.

“He’s just showing me around,” Nick did his best to smile at her reassuringly. “I’m not – I don’t want anything from him, promise.”

She watched him for a moment, studying his expression, then she nodded once and turned to walk back towards the kitchen. Nick watched after her, a little dumbfounded.

“Charlie has had a couple of bad relationships before, so she’s a bit protective,” Michael explained, drawing Nick’s attention back to him. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Oh, right. Well, we’re not. In a relationship, that is. We’re only – we’re friends.”

Michael gave him a look that suggested he didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Okay then.”

“Really. It’s all purely platonic,” Nick insisted, only hesitating for half a second before he managed to get the word platonic out of his mouth.

Jesus.

“Okay then, Purely Platonic Nick,” Michael said happily, leaning forward with his hands on the bar. “Have a seat and I’ll bring you your coffee.”

Nick managed to waste a couple of hours in Sundance, talking to Mrs Hewitt and Poppy and then Michael some more. He was surprised by how quickly he seemed to be getting to know some of the locals and just how friendly they were with him. There was something about Mrs Hewitt that reminded him of his mum and made him ache with how much he missed her already, and being with Poppy was like free therapy after losing Nellie. He felt a part of him that he thought had died with Nellie trying to peak out, a small spark of joy that made his days slightly more bearable.

He spent some time walking right to the end of the beach afterwards, taking as many photos as he could as the sun crept out from the clouds for half an hour. Absolutely not good enough for Elle’s exhibition, but maybe good enough for the Instagram grid if he edited them enough. He couldn’t help but wish Charlie was with him as he walked; it felt wrong not to have him by his side, jibing and making fun of his “camera face” at every given opportunity.

He supposed he better get used to not having Charlie with him. He was only going to be in Praa Sands for another four weeks. As much as he missed Charlie today, Nick was fully aware that it would only be a hundred times worse when he got back to London.

Nick couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned for an hour before he gave up, grabbing his phone and replying to a few ignored messages to try and take his mind off what he actually wanted to be doing.

He wanted to have his mouth on Charlie again. He wanted Charlie to pull his hair and beg for him to hurry up, crying out Nick’s name. He wanted Charlie’s mouth on him this time, wanted his hands to explore wherever they wanted, wanted Charlie to whisper in his ear and ask Nick if he’d fuck him.

Shit.

Fuck the messages, Nick thought. He tossed his phone aside again and was reaching into his boxers when there were a few loud bangs on the door.

He kind of wanted to ignore it, certain that it was drunk kids on their way home from the bar down the street or something, but a traitorous thought crept its way into his mind. What if it was –

It wouldn't be. But what if?

Nick all but threw himself off his bed, shoving a pair of shorts on that just about covered his growing problem and then rushed to the front door to yank it open.

And yup. He was right. Charlie was here. At his door. At midnight.

“Hello,” Charlie said, leaning heavily against Nick’s doorframe.

“Um. Hi?”

“Hi.”

“I think we’ve done that part already.”

“Right. Yes,” Charlie nodded. He picked at a loose bit of paint on the wood beside him, his eyes fully focused on what he was doing.

“Did I forget another trip?” Nick asked, still confused as to what Charlie was doing here in the middle of the night.

“No. I – um. I didn’t see you today.”

Charlie still wouldn’t look at him and it occurred to Nick all of a sudden that Charlie was here because he had missed him today. Charlie missed him.

Well then.

“Did you want to come in?”

Charlie pushed himself off the door and did just that, walking slowly towards the living room.

“Did you have a nice day?” Nick questioned when Charlie stood in the middle of the room in silence.

“It was fine,” Charlie shrugged.

Nick wasn’t entirely sure what he was meant to do. Charlie wasn’t exactly being talkative, but he was the one who had walked down here in the dark to see him. Nick stood by the kitchen island and watched him, waiting for any indication of what Charlie wanted from him.

“Are you –” he started to ask but was cut off by Charlie’s next rushed words.

“I think we should have sex again.”

Nick stopped still. “Um.”

“That – that wasn’t how I planned on saying that.” Charlie blushed. He looked nervous, shy. Nick had never seen him like that before. “I’ve just been thinking about that night a lot. And I think we had fun. You did enjoy it, didn’t you?”

“Of course I enjoyed it,” Nick said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I – I didn’t think you did. You left so quickly that I thought you regretted letting it happen.”

“I didn’t let it happen, Nick. I was an active participant.”

“Right, but then you turned up the next day like nothing had happened and I figured you wanted to forget it ever had.”

Charlie gave him a flat look and moved a few steps closer, that confident glint now back in his eye. “You didn’t bring it up either.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Nick rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to, uh, make you uncomfortable?”

“Well,” Charlie drawled, coming to a stop in front of him and reaching out to tug at the bottom of Nick’s t-shirt. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. And I think that there’s more I’d like to do with you, if – if that would be something you’d be interested in.”

Nick’s mouth went dry in an instant. Charlie playing with his top while staring up at Nick through his lashes was such an enticing image that he couldn’t help but take his own step closer. “I – yeah. I would be interested.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Charlie exhaled, and then he was up on his tiptoes and wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck to pull him closer.

They came together in the same way they had that first night, hard and eager. Nick hadn’t realised just how much he had been craving having Charlie’s lips on his again until it was happening. He slid one hand into Charlie’s curls – fuck, he liked those curls a hell of a lot – and wrapped the other arm around his waist, his hand slipping up beneath Charlie’s jumper to get to warm skin. Charlie pushed his body up against Nick’s, humming as he tilted his head to get a better angle.

Nick started walking Charlie backwards towards the hallway, towards his bedroom, not once breaking the kiss. When they got there, Charlie pushed him until Nick’s back hit the wall with a thud.

“Fuck,” he hissed as Charlie kissed along his jaw, down to his throat, and mouthed hungrily at his neck. One hand slid up Nick’s t-shirt, splayed against his tensed stomach, and the other tugged at the collar so he could get better access.

“Nick,” he breathed between kisses. “Can I – um. Would it be okay if I had a shower?”

Nick’s brain stuttered to a screeching halt and then, within a second, started racing at the implications of that question. Flashes of images of Charlie writhing beneath him, naked and blissed out, flitted through Nick’s brain.

Fuck.

“Nick? We don’t have to do anything, but I’ve been out all day and I feel a bit gross, and I really want to -”

“Yeah. Yeah, let me get you a towel?”

As Charlie showered, Nick lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm himself down a little. The whole thing was going to be over embarrassingly quickly at this rate, just the idea of being with Charlie like that was going to wreck him. Nick felt ridiculous; he was long past the desperate, horny teenager stage of life, but Charlie made him feel like they were sixteen and discovering sex for the first time. He felt nervous and giddy and determined not to fuck it up with cluelessness and clumsiness.

The ensuite door opened and Charlie appeared in a cloud of steam, a towel around his waist and damp curls falling into his eyes. It was the first time Nick had seen him without a shirt on and he was struck with how fucking gorgeous Charlie was. He was surprisingly toned given his slight frame, but while his chest and stomach were well-defined, he still looked tiny. Nick couldn’t lie – the fact that Charlie was half the size of him was so fucking hot.

Charlie didn’t waste any time. He let the towel fall from his hips and land in a heap on the floor and Nick felt his cock twitch at the sight of Charlie fully naked in front of him.

“Get over here,” he said. Begged.

Charlie did, climbing onto the end of the bed and crawling towards Nick. He lay down on top of him and immediately reconnected their lips. Nick moaned as Charlie licked into his mouth, hot and deep and needy. He ran his hands up Charlie’s back, pressing him down even closer. His skin was still warm from the shower and it drove Nick crazy as Charlie moved away to start kissing along Nick’s jaw again.

“Charlie,” Nick whined, letting his head fall backwards so Charlie could keep sucking and biting at his neck. Nick would be shocked if he hadn’t left a mark. His brain was hazy and foggy, but there was something he needed to check before they went any further. “What are we doing?”

“I thought that was obvious,” Charlie sassed back, nipping at Nick’s skin.

“You know what I mean.”

Charlie withdrew and considered him for a moment. “I’d say we're two consenting adults with ridiculous chemistry just letting off some steam. That sound okay to you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it really does,” Nick agreed.

He wasn’t here to fall in love or find a new partner, but a fun arrangement with a friend was definitely something he was interested in. If that’s what Charlie wanted too, then that was perfect.

Encouraged by being on the same page, Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie’s waist and rolled them over, their hips coming together as Charlie landed on his back.

“Shit,” Charlie hissed. “I fucking love it when you do that.”

“Do what?” Nick asked, distracted with trying to return the favour by worshipping Charlie’s neck.

“Move me like it’s nothing. I bet you could pick me up without any effort at all.”

Nick pulled back to look at him for a moment with a small smirk. So he liked the size difference too, then. “You want me to throw you around or something?”

Charlie’s eyes flashed. “Maybe next time. Right now, I need you to touch me. Like, immediately.”

Nick snorted, dipping his head to touch their noses together. “Bossy.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Hurry up, Photo Boy.”

And Nick wanted to argue, to take his time. He so regretted how hurried everything was last time and he didn’t want to make the same mistake again. He wanted to savour it, catch every little hitch in Charlie’s breath, explore every single inch of his skin. He wanted to argue, except he was half hard before Charlie had even arrived just thinking about him so he didn’t fancy his chances at winning that fight. Besides, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time now. He would have other opportunities to take this slowly.

So instead, Nick did the opposite of resisting Charlie’s demands and slid his hand down to cover Charlie’s cock with no preamble. Charlie hissed as his hips lifted off the bed.

“Fuck, warn a guy,” he huffed, batting at Nick’s shoulder.

“Move faster, wait that’s too fast,” Nick mocked, grinning when Charlie’s surprised expression morphed into a glare.

“Oh, shut up.”

Nick chuckled, turning his hand so that he could grip Charlie properly. Charlie sighed and closed his eyes, settling his head back on the pillow with a smile on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“What is it about shut up that you’re not understanding?” Charlie said, glowering at him.

"Do you want me to suck you off or not?” Nick shot back, and Charlie’s eyes flew open.

"Um, yes. Yes, I very much want that."

“Thought so,” Nick muttered, bending his head back down so he could kiss Charlie again once, quickly, before trailing those kisses down his throat and chest, down to his stomach. When he reached his belly button, Nick looked up to see Charlie watching him with hooded eyes. He smiled, his chin resting on Charlie‘s skin as he murmured, "Do you know how good you look right now?”

"Me? You should see yourself."

"Rather see you," Nick told him, shifting further down the bed so he could get comfy.

Nick tried to savour it this time. It was no secret to anyone who had known Nick intimately that he loved giving head. It didn't matter who he was with, he just loved it. Loved the ache in his jaw and the noises he could coax out of parted lips. He glanced upwards and saw Charlie’s head thrown back, his hands tangled in the bedsheets either side of him, and Nick couldn't help but smile around him.

Even better, Charlie smelled like his body wash. That did something to Nick’s insides, twisting his stomach into possessive knots.

“Nick," Charlie panted, and Nick looked up to meet his eye. "Fuck, you look good like that. Stop distracting me with your stupidly nice face."

Nick raised his eyebrows and pulled off, wrapping his hand back around Charlie instead. "Terribly sorry for having a face. What’s up?”

"I – I want you to – can you finger me? Please?"

"Oh, fuck," Nick whimpered, dropping his head onto Charlie’s thigh.

"If you want. If you like that. You don’t have to, obviously."

"No, I - I definitely fucking like that, Charlie.”

“Okay, good. Because I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have?”

“Don’t make it a thing,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “I just – the other night was fun, but it wasn’t enough, you know? And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what enough would be, and… yeah.”

“I get it,” Nick assured him, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s hip. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. And hey, we’ve got a while, I’m pretty sure we can get through a few things. We can make a fucking list and tick things off as we go, if you want.”

Charlie laughed, reaching a hand down to push Nick’s hair from his forehead. “Sure, we’ll make a list. But right now…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Get a move on, etcetera etcetera.” Nick pushed back off the bed and walked towards the chest of drawers. When Charlie made a noise of protest, Nick looked back at him with an impatient look. “Do you want to get fingered or not, bossy?”

“I don’t see how that’s more likely to happen with you across the room.”

Nick rummaged around in the drawer until he found the lube he’d brought with him and chucked it at Charlie purposefully.

“Oh, yeah. Never mind, as you were.”

“Thought so,” Nick said smugly.

“Not sure who you thought you would be hooking up with though,” Charlie teased as Nick climbed back onto the bed. “Considering this town is made up of mostly pensioners.”

Nick moved towards him and nudged Charlie’s legs open wider with his foot. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Fair point,” Charlie allowed, sounding a little bit breathless all of a sudden.

He didn’t say much more after that, relaxing against the sheets and letting Nick get on with it. Nick worked him open slowly, carefully, getting to know exactly what Charlie liked by listening to how his breathing changed or what made him let out a particularly delicious moan. Nick lost himself in the sounds, pressing soft kisses against the smooth skin of Charlie’s stomach, along to his hip bones, and eventually lower again.

Charlie made the most obscene noise when Nick took him back in his mouth, his fingers still buried deep. “Fucking fuck,” he panted, his stomach tensing. “That feels so fucking good. So close, Nick.”

Nick hummed happily and picked up his pace, wanting to make Charlie feel as good as possible. It wasn’t much longer until Charlie was shaking underneath him and pulling at his hair until Nick moved off him. Nick buried his face in Charlie’s belly instead, quirked his fingers once more, and then Charlie was crying out as he came across his stomach.

When Charlie eventually opened his eyes and nodded, Nick carefully removed his fingers and shuffled back up until his head was on the pillow next to Charlie’s.

“You okay?” he whispered, nosing at Charlie’s cheek.

“Fucking brilliant,” Charlie breathed, turning his head to catch Nick’s lips with his. “You’re good at that.”

“So I’ve been told,” Nick winked.

“Wow. Okay, give me one second and then I’ll sort you out.”

Nick shook his head. “You don’t have to if you’re too – if you don’t want to.”

“I really, really want to. Getting fingered wasn’t all I was thinking about today, you know.”

“Oh.”

And oh was right. Nick lay back as Charlie took him between his lips, one hand buried in soft curls and the other twisted in bedsheets. It was frustrating how close he was so quickly because he wanted to experience that feeling for hours, the warmth of Charlie’s mouth and the way fingertips ran lightly up his thigh and around to grip Nick’s arse, encouraging his movements.

It was all over too soon and before he knew it, Charlie was back at eye level and kissing him slow and deep. They took turns going to clean up after that before collapsing back onto the sheets of Nick’s bed – sheets that now needed to be changed, again.

Nick lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for a while until he felt Charlie shift and then the light touch of a finger trace over his shoulder blade.

“What’s this from?” Charlie murmured, his eyes following the trail of his fingertip.

Nick shifted so he could see what Charlie was looking at. “Oh,” he said when he realised Charlie was asking about his scar. “Nothing as exciting as it looks. My brother pushed me off my bike when we were kids and I landed badly. Had to have it all put back together.”

Charlie’s hand slid along Nick’s collarbone until it reached the silver chain around his neck, something Nick had worn every day since he’d got it for his 18th birthday. Charlie hooked his index finger around it and tugged very gently. “By accident?”

“Huh?” Nick asked distractedly, transfixed by the movement of Charlie’s hand.

“Your brother. Did he push you off by accident?”

“God, no. He’s a cunt; it was absolutely on purpose.”

“Ouch.”

“Hmm.” Nick hummed.

He reached up for Charlie’s fingers where they were still playing with his necklace and brought them to his mouth, kissing at his knuckles before letting go. He shifted onto his side to face Charlie, smiling when their eyes met.

“Speaking of siblings. I met Tori today.”

Charlie pulled back and narrowed his eyes at Nick. “What do you mean, you met Tori?”

“Um?” Nick blinked. “Like, we had a conversation?”

“You had a conversation?” Charlie squeaked. Nick wondered if he was just going to repeat everything he said from now on. “When? About what?”

“I went down to Sundance for lunch and she came out of the kitchen to chat.”

“She came out of the kitchen to chat?”

Nick laughed at the pitch of Charlie’s voice and reached out to stroke a hand up Charlie’s arm soothingly. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Nick, she literally works in the kitchen so that she doesn’t ever have to chat. You should’ve seen her face when Michael suggested they opened a bar, Jesus Christ.”

“She was curious, I think,” Nick shrugged, and Charlie glared at him again.

“That nosy little bitch. I’m going to empty out all her fancy, expensive sauces and replace them with Asda’s own versions.”

“She was fine, I promise. I mean, mad intense. But she was fine.”

“Urgh, she’s so embarrassing,” Charlie groaned, tipping forward to bury his face in Nick’s chest.

Nick snickered and wrapped an arm around Charlie’s shoulders, holding him close. He was surprised Charlie was even still here, let alone cuddling in and talking. He half wanted to make a joke about Charlie running away again, but he didn’t want to scare him off. It was nice being like this with Charlie, and Nick wasn’t ready for it to be done yet.

They stayed quiet for a while until Charlie let out a sigh. “I’m going to fall asleep if I stay here much longer. You’re comfy.”

Nick hesitated for a moment before he said, very quietly, “You can fall asleep. I don’t mind.”

“But I’m gross and sticky and I need to go home,” Charlie whined, but he snaked an arm around Nick’s waist and showed no signs of moving.

Nick hid his smile in Charlie’s hair. “We could have a nap. Just for a little while.”

“Okay, but then you’ll wake me up and send me home?”

“I promise.”

And he kept his promise, gently shaking him awake at 3am. Charlie slapped a hand over his mouth and told him to shut the fuck up and let him sleep and that was that.

Nick woke up first the next morning. They had separated in their sleep; Charlie was now firmly on his own side of the bed, lying on his front with one arm shoved under his pillow. Nick couldn’t help but smile as he watched Charlie’s naked back rise and fall. He couldn’t see his face, but the sight of Charlie’s sex and sleep rumpled hair was beautiful in itself.

His fingers itched to reach for his camera, his phone, anything so that he could see this again and again and again. But no, that wouldn’t be fair to Charlie. Maybe if they were… maybe if… but no. What kind of creep would take pictures of their sleeping one (two?) night stand, covered only by a thin sheet?

Instead, Nick pushed himself out of bed and made his way out of his bedroom as quietly as possible. He needed coffee, and if he had learned anything about Charlie this week, it was that he always wanted coffee. 

Charlie was sitting up when Nick returned to his room, propped up against the headboard with Nick’s sheet covering him up to his waist. He smiled when he saw Nick, tilting his head to the side.

“You made coffee?”

“I made coffee,” Nick confirmed, handing one of the steaming mugs to Charlie and then settling back onto the bed himself. He stayed at a distance, perched on his side of the bed so as not to make Charlie too uncomfortable.

There didn’t seem to be any danger of that, though. Charlie stuck his nose into his mug and inhaled with a smile. “And how do you know how I take my coffee? You been stalking me or something?”

Nick flushed and ducked his head. “We’ve spent most days together the past fortnight. I just… paid attention.”

“I’m teasing you. You’re very serious, Nick…” Charlie trailed off, raising an expectant eyebrow at Nick.

“Nelson,” he supplied.

“Nick Nelson,” Charlie tried the words out, and Nick ignored the spark that shot through him at the way the words sounded on his tongue. He very violently shoved down the thought that he wanted to hear that voice say his name for the rest of time. “How alliterative. Middle name… Norman, maybe?”

Nick snorted. “Luke. Nicholas Luke Nelson.”

“Hmm. Suits you, actually.”

Nick smiled and watched Charlie tap his fingers against the mug, looking deep in thought.

“You okay?” he asked.

Charlie hummed, looking down into his coffee. “I shouldn’t have stayed last night.”

“Oh? I don’t mind. Saves you having to walk back up the hill in the dark.”

“It’s not – it’s not the convenience,” Charlie admitted. “I just – I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

Ah. If that wasn’t a familiar sentence. Nick nodded and pressed his lips together, not looking up at Charlie.

“It’s not that you’re not – or I don’t – oh, for fucks sake,” Charlie hissed, clearly frustrated with himself. “I think that maybe staying the night crosses some kind of line? If we’re, you know. Two people letting off some steam, as we said last night.”

He was right, of course. They both knew this couldn’t be anything more than that, not when they lived six hours apart in the real world and neither of them were looking for anything, not when Nick was such a fucking mess. Even so, they only had a month left together and Nick really didn’t want to waste that.

“I get it. If that’s a firm boundary for you then I’ll respect that. But I’m okay with it if you are. I mean, we can talk more about it of course, but you’re welcome to stay any time. It’s nice having a bit of company, if I’m honest.”

“I don’t want you to think that I – um. I would hate it if you ended up getting attached. And I can’t – I can’t give you more than this.”

Nick swallowed. That wasn’t exactly new information and it wasn’t anything he disagreed with, but there was still a sting that came with the words. He knew that was just his clingy, romantic side talking though, and that part had no place in his… thing with Charlie.

“I’m not asking you to,” Nick said eventually, when he was sure he could speak confidently again. “It’s all physical. I’m not ready for anything else, anyway.”

Charlie took a deep breath and met his eye finally. “Okay. That’s good.”

“But for the record, I don’t mind if you stay over. I promise I won’t read anything into it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Charlie told him after a pause.

The thinking didn’t take long. Charlie had left for his shift on Saturday afternoon and turned back up as soon as he was done with work.

“Don’t say a word,” he’d warned when Nick greeted him at the door with a smug smile. “I had a shit shift and you give good head. That’s all this is.”

And that was all it continued to be. They spent the days when Charlie was free exploring every cove and inlet Cornwall had to offer and then their nights in Nick’s flat, exploring each other. By the end of week three, Charlie had a toothbrush in the bathroom, a pile of books on the nightstand and his favourite coffee in the cupboard.

Nick thought they were doing a pretty good job of not blurring the emotional lines, despite Charlie sleeping over most nights. There was still a distance between them, a layer to Charlie that he didn’t show Nick. While he was happy to rant about his sister and work and missing the chaos of living in a city, he never spoke about anything deeper than that. Nick kept the same walls up around himself, not talking about his old school or Rowan or anything else that had hurt him so deeply over the past year.

It worked. They got on well, had good chemistry and neither of them were going to get hurt from something casual. Nick could easily shove the butterflies that were dancing in his stomach right down and ignore them in favour of enjoying what they were.

Two people letting off steam. That was all they were, and Nick was fine with that.

He could definitely, one hundred percent, no doubt about it do casual.

Chapter Text

I was caught in your blaze of bubblegum rays and pretty eyes
I’m under your spell and out of my shell, I’m realigned
I’ll follow you there but lover don’t lead me astray
I’m one to talk, you’re cold and I’m a fireplace

🌊🌊🌊

By the start of August, Charlie had started to stay over most nights. The sex continued to surprise Nick with its intensity; the first time he fucked Charlie, properly fucked him, Nick could’ve sworn he’d seen stars. The way they moved together was like a synchronised dance, as if they had been rehearsing together for years rather than the two weeks it had been in reality.

Nick had started to become so comfortable with Charlie, sarcastic jokes and mocking words included. He had stopped tripping over his words and feeling so stupid in Charlie’s presence, instead being able to hold his own and even swipe back sometimes. Charlie seemed to enjoy the give and take even more than he enjoyed laughing at Nick, so it seemed to be working for both of them.

Still, Nick knew they were both holding back. Nick was hiding the parts of himself that drove Rowan mad at the end of their relationship. He was aware that some of those things were Ro’s problem and not his, but he also knew that there were things he could’ve done better. Like when Rowan had started pulling away from him and Nick had gone into panic mode – he had clung tighter, tried to fix the distance he felt by never wanting to let Rowan out of his sight. All he had managed to do was drive them further apart and fill that space with resentment and irritation. Nick so desperately didn’t want to do that again, so he kept the clingy side of himself at bay around Charlie.

He was resolutely ignoring the fact that it got harder every day.

Nick knew some things were bleeding through despite his best efforts. He had become incapable of not taking pictures of Charlie in moments Nick wanted to remember forever, moments that were increasing in frequency by the day. Charlie never complained about it, catching him sometimes but simply smiling in response. The reaction made Nick push his luck a bit, snapping photos constantly when they were out exploring and not being able to resist when they were in Nick’s flat, either.

One of his favourites was of Charlie sitting on a chair on the balcony of Nick's flat on one of the drier days in ripped black skinny jeans and a grey jumper. He had his headphones in – wired, because he refused to risk losing wireless earbuds – and his chin was resting on his bent up knees as his long fingers tapped out a steady beat on the table. Nick didn’t know why he felt the need to take it, other than Charlie just looked so comfortable and relaxed.

At the click of the shutter, Charlie had looked up and tugged one earphone out, a small smile on his face.

“You do that a lot, you know. Take pictures of me,” Charlie mused, his head tilted to one side as he looked at Nick.

“Sorry. I know it’s annoying and invasive, but you’re so… anyway. I’ll try and give it a rest.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. I’m interested in seeing them actually.”

“Oh,” Nick blinked at Charlie. “Really?”

“Of course! The pictures you’ve shown me so far are gorgeous. I’m… kind of intrigued to see how I look through your lens.”

“Beautiful,” Nick breathed out before he could stop himself. Charlie stared back up at him, wide-eyed. “Sorry. Um. You do, though. That’s why I can’t stop taking the photos. You’re just – I just love taking pictures of pretty things.”

“And you think I’m… one of those things?” Charlie asked, his tone doubtful.

Nick huffed a disbelieving laugh and moved out onto the balcony to kneel down next to Charlie’s chair. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

Charlie moved his hand from the table to Nick’s shoulder, picking at a piece of fluff there. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I don’t think I see myself like that, so it’s hard to imagine you would.”

“Charlie.” Nick exhaled, curling a hand around one of Charlie’s ankles and squeezing. What he wanted to do was tell Charlie that he was the most beautiful human Nick had ever met, that he took Nick’s breath away every day, that sometimes he could hardly think because of the way Charlie looked at him. He knew that was in the too far category though. So, instead, he went with something that held a little less weight. “The fact that I want to take pictures of you every other minute should be proof enough.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should look at them sometime and see what you see.”

Nick smiled and reached up to brush a curl off of Charlie’s forehead. “Good idea.”

They didn't mention it again after that. Charlie was yet to look at the pictures Nick had taken so far, but he had started to get sillier in the ones Nick had taken since. He would pose up a storm as they walked along beach after beach or from behind the bar at Sundance, giving Nick’s lens his best blue steel and then bursting into laughter the next instant. Nick liked the latter photos the best, loved the way Charlie’s eyes crinkled and his hand flew over his mouth to try and hide his mirth.

Nick’s other favourites were the ones he took of Charlie when they were just spending time in Nick’s flat. Lying in bed, tangling himself up in Nick's thin curtains and laughing when he got trapped, asleep on the armchair with a book covering his face. Nick was becoming far too accustomed to rainy evenings curled up one end of the sofa with Charlie across from him. Usually Nick would look through photos, editing and deleting in equal measure, or plan future lessons or chat to his mum on the phone. Charlie would usually be reading or texting, occasionally digging his toes into Nick’s thigh or ribs and cackling when Nick squirmed and batted him away. It was all so cosy in their little bubble, with both of them dressed mostly in Nick’s clothes and doing their own things while the rain pelted down on the windows.

On one of those evenings, while Nick was correcting the lighting on a possible photo to send to Elle and Charlie was lounging on the other sofa with his book, Charlie started asking questions he hadn’t before.

“Nick,” he said, a slight hesitation in his voice. “You mentioned you’re a teacher?”

Nick looked up from his laptop and at Charlie who had his book resting open on his stomach now. He looked so relaxed with his head propped up on one arm of the couch and bundled up in a hoodie he had found in Nick’s room. He hadn’t asked, just slipped it on earlier in the day and carried on like it was nothing unusual. Nick couldn’t stop staring at him in it, couldn’t stop the rush of emotion that it sent shooting through his body.

But it was fine. Nick was fine.

“Yeah. Primary kids. Year Two this coming year.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” Nick nodded, closing his laptop to give Charlie his full attention. “I like the kids, anyway. I love the looks on their faces when something clicks and the way they light up when they’re excited about something. I love that they can come into my classroom and know they’re safe, whoever they are, no matter what they have going on at home.”

“You’re actually a secret softie, aren’t you?” Charlie asked with a teasing smile.

“I wouldn’t say it was much of a secret,” Nick laughed.

“You said you liked the kids part of the job. Not the rest?”

Nick sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sometimes it’s okay. Did I tell you I was moving schools?”

Charlie rolled onto his side on the sofa so he could look at Nick more easily, bending his arms underneath him and resting his head on his hands. “No?”

Nick took a deep breath, wondering how to start with that can of worms. “Okay, so, I always used to wear this bi pride pin on my lanyard, just as a little gesture. It allowed me to feel a bit more like myself at work and let the kids know they were welcome no matter what. When I had Year Sixes a few years ago, one of the kids came out and got a bit of shit so I thought, you know, if their teacher was visibly queer then that might help? And it did help them, they used to use my classroom as a little sanctuary for when things were bad. So, like, it felt like the least I could do, to wear that around.”

Nick looked up at Charlie who was sitting up now. When Nick smiled sadly at him, Charlie got up and came over to his sofa, moving Nick's closed laptop off his lap and crawling onto the vacated space himself. He sat sideways and wrapped an arm around Nick’s shoulders. Nick hadn’t even realised he’d needed the comfort of Charlie’s touch in that moment, but Charlie had. Charlie always seemed to know.

“Let me guess," Charlie mused. "The grownups didn’t like it.”

“The grownups didn’t even notice for, like, two years. Nobody batted an eyelid. I had been with my ex, Rowan, for three years when we broke up last autumn and apparently not one of my colleagues knew he was a man. I had definitely mentioned him by name before, though I guess it's kind of gender neutral and I wasn’t close enough with anyone to talk about our relationships all that much. Anyway, it was a parent who noticed it in the end. They made a complaint about me.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes. “They got you fired for being queer?”

“Oh, no, no. It wasn’t – I just couldn’t stay after that. The head acted all nice to me about the complaint but pretty much demanded I stopped wearing the pin and the rest of my colleagues started being off with me, too.”

“Fucking hell, Nick.”

Nick hummed as Charlie’s blunt fingernails scratched against his scalp, leaning into the touch. “It was a bit shit. I handed in my notice and luckily managed to find a new school before the year was out, so I start fresh there in September. The head was great when I met her. She plays rugby and has a wife so I can’t go too wrong there, eh?”

“That sounds much better. That’s really shit, Nick. I’m sorry they made you feel like you had to leave your job.”

Nick shrugged and leaned forward to press a kiss into Charlie’s hair. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“No, not really,” Nick agreed. He rested one hand on Charlie’s thigh as Charlie’s thumb stroked along the back of his neck. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you like working at Sundance?”

Charlie snorted, his hand dropping onto Nick’s clothed shoulder. Nick immediately missed the feeling of Charlie’s fingertips on his skin.

“It’s not my dream job.”

Nick squeezed his leg again. “What is, then?”

“That’s a big question, Nicholas. I wasn’t done asking you about teaching yet.”

“Well, I was done talking,” Nick replied, only just stopping himself from sticking his tongue out. He was desperate to learn something, anything new about Charlie. “What did you do before you moved here?”

Charlie sighed, shifting in Nick’s lap. “Nothing important,” he said quietly, looking out through the balcony doors in front of them instead of anywhere near Nick’s face. “I went to uni after school and I did a year and a half of a creative writing degree before I left. I – it didn’t work for me. Creative people are… there’s a lot of pretentiousness that I have absolutely no interest in being a part of.”

“Creative people, huh?”

“Yes. You’re all fucking unbearable,” Charlie insisted.

“But you were there for creative writing. So, you’re one of those unbearable people?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Charlie scoffed, flashing Nick a momentary grin before he sobered again. “I – I loved writing, but that world is not for me. The way the other students would talk about their works like they were the most important thing on the planet just grated on me, you know? And then sitting there criticising me for trying to tell my story. And it got – it was nasty. Everyone was properly nasty, thinking they were so much smarter than everyone else and they were not afraid to call someone stupid. I ended up putting so much pressure on myself that I got – I wasn’t very well. So I left.”

Nick stroked his fingers up and down Charlie’s leg as he spoke, absolutely delighted to finally be getting some real insight into Charlie’s brain. “Did you feel better for leaving?”

“Christ. Um. Not at first, no. I was – I kind of entirely relied on my ex after that. I wasn’t well enough to get a job and I’d already kind of cut my parents off. My ex came from money and he kept saying it wasn’t an issue and I fucking hated it but he convinced me that he needed to look after me. Anyway, it was like that for about a year, until I started crawling out of my skin to get out of that house. I knew he wasn’t – we weren’t – ugh. It doesn’t matter. Just - know that he’s the reason I don’t do real relationships anymore. Like, physical intimacy is fine because it was never a problem in our relationship. I can have sex and enjoy it, and I do. But anything more than that, anything that involves, like, commitment and compromises and, like, rules. That’s where I’m shit. I freak out because I think that people will end up like Ben and just want control over me.” Charlie shook his head and let out a long sigh. “Anyway. I needed something in my life that was mine. I needed to get out of Durham, which was where we went to uni and where I met Ben. When the relationship imploded, I went to live with my friend Tao in London for a while. I loved it there and he was really wonderful but he’s a filmmaker and travels lot and at that point I needed people I trusted around me. That’s when Tori told me to come here.”

Nick bit his tongue, trying not to ask the seven hundred questions that were on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to know who the fuck Charlie’s ex thought he was, trying to control Charlie with money. He wanted to scream at this faceless man for ruining Charlie’s faith in himself and in relationships. He wanted to know who the idiots on his course were and why they spent years making Charlie feel inferior. He wanted to know all about Charlie’s parents and what made them awful enough to be cut out. Most of all, selfishly, he wanted to know if Charlie had really liked London, if it was somewhere he saw himself being again. Maybe permanently.

Nick wanted to know everything, but Charlie had gone quiet and Nick could feel him shaking slightly in his arms, so he shut his mouth.

“Well. Tori and Michael are lucky to have you here.”

Charlie shook his head. “Tori just wants to keep an eye on me. She has the whole fucking town watching me like a hawk.”

“She does seem very… protective.”

“Understatement of the century. As if I couldn’t literally pick her up and put her on top of something very tall to get her out of the way.”

“Except you love her,” Nick pointed out, nudging his nose against Charlie’s cheek. “I see right through your whole teenage ‘I hate my big sibling’ schtick, Spring.”

“Urgh, shut up,” Charlie groaned, but some of the light was back in his eyes now and his thumb went back to rubbing circles at Nick's hairline. “So. You’re bi, then?”

Nick was taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “What, did you think I was straight?” he teased when his brain finally caught up.

“Oh, yeah. Figured all the very gay sex you’re having with me was a fluke,” Charlie deadpanned. “But no, I knew you were queer immediately.”

“Really? People usually assume I’m straight. What gave me away?”

“Nick, come on. You looked at me like you wanted to eat me.”

Nick would argue but Charlie was probably right, so instead he leant down to sink his teeth very gently into Charlie’s shoulder. “Yum.”

Charlie squawked and batted him away, but he was grinning. Nick loved being around Charlie like this, when he was silly and playful. It seemed to be happening more and more lately.

“Damn it,” Charlie whined, and Nick looked at him questioningly. “Why did I like that?”

Nick snorted. “Because you think I’m hot and you like it when I put my mouth on you.”

“Oh, do I?”

Nick nodded smugly.

“Well, I definitely prefer your mouth on me than talking, that’s for sure.”

“Oi, dickhead.”

“Twat,” Charlie shot back, wriggling in Nick’s lap to get comfortable again. After a moment, he laid his head on Nick’s shoulder. “So, hey. Tori and Michael are closing early on Saturday to throw this bonfire at Hendra Beach. They do it every year for Michael’s birthday. A bunch of the locals come down and some friends of ours from around Cornwall. It’s just drinks and music and a fire and stuff.”

Nick waited, but when Charlie didn’t say anything else he bit back a smile. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh. Do you – um. You could come if you wanted? Michael asked me to invite you, I mean. You don’t have to, obviously. It’s probably a stupid idea.”

With a frown, Nick reached for Charlie’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s not stupid.”

“No?”

“Of course not. What am I going to do except miss you if you’re busy all night, anyway? I would love to come.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

“And thanks for giving me barely any time to get him a present, by the way. That’s great.”

“Oh my god, don’t get that idiot a present.”

“Charlie!”

“What? Tori trapped you in Sundance and interrogated you, her partner certainly does not deserve any presents.”

“Charlie,” Nick repeated with a laugh. “You mean the same Tori who took you in and gave you a job and loves you so fiercely? And her partner who adores you as if you were his own brother?”

“Uh, who’s fucking side are you on?” Charlie glared, pinching at Nick’s nipple. Nick squeaked and gaped at him. “That’s what you get, dickhead.”

“Wow, your true colours are really coming out tonight, aren’t they?”

“Whatever. No. Presents.”

Nick, of course, did get Michael a present. It wasn’t much, but he ran into Penzance to print out a picture he had taken of the café as the sun had set on it one evening and then shoved it in a nice looking frame he had found. He got a bottle of Lagavulin 16 for him too, which Charlie had admitted was Michael’s favourite and it had been his bottle that Charlie had stolen from the bar the first night they had gone back to Nick’s together. Charlie had rolled his eyes when Nick had met him outside his flat with a gift bag in his hand on the night of the party.

Hendra Beach, it turned out, was just the far end of Praa Sands. It was sheltered by the cliffs at the end and there was a large bonfire already roaring in the middle of the sand. The orange flames reflected into the lapping, calm waves behind, instantly making Nick wish he could do this every night.

The party was already in full swing and what looked like the whole of Praa Sands was gathered in groups around the fire. Nick could see some familiar faces he recognised from Sundance and made a note of people to catch up with after he found Michael.

“Alright?” Charlie asked, leaning into his side. When Nick turned to him, he was looking apprehensively up at Nick.

“I’m good. You?”

Charlie bit his lip, looking every bit like he had something to say, but then he shook his head. “Yeah, all good. Let’s go and find the birthday boy.”

Nick lost track of Charlie for a while after they had spoken to Michael, but he didn’t mind too much. He moved between groups of people, a lot of whom he had already met from being in Sundance so often. Everyone greeted him warmly as if he’d been there far longer than three weeks and he realised as he chatted with them that he knew enough about them to ask about their families and – more importantly – their dogs. He was more than happy drifting between them all, his drink in one hand and the other shoved in his pocket.

“Nick!” Mrs Hewitt called. Poppy came running over to see him as her owner hobbled along behind her.

“Hey,” Nick grinned, scratching Poppy behind the ears and then giving Mrs Hewitt a hug.

“Have you given those custard cream buns a go yet?” she asked, linking her arm through his.

“Made them this very morning. You were right, they’re divine. I sent the recipe to mum, too.”

“Oh, you sweetheart,” she cooed, nudging his side. “Have you let Charlie try them yet?”

“Let Charlie try what?” the man himself said as he sidled up to Nick’s other side. “Hi, Natasha.”

“Hello, love. I was just talking about Nick’s buns.”

Nick choked on an ill-timed sip of rum and coke as Charlie bit back a smirk. “Are you now? Well, don’t let me interrupt.”

Nick reached out for Charlie’s wrist to stop him twirling away and glared at him. “Cakes, Spring. I made cakes this morning. Mrs Hewitt gave me the recipe.”

“Wait. You bake?”

“I do. Sometimes. It’s… relaxing.”

“Well. Aren’t you full of surprises?” Charlie appraised, his eyes darting down to Nick's lips so quickly that he wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching Charlie so closely.

“Oh look, there’s June. I’ll see you boys later,” Mrs Hewitt called, all but skipping away from them looking as smug as anything.

“Subtle,” Charlie snorted. “But seriously. Baking?”

“Why is that so weird to you? Are you – wait. Do you like the fact that I bake?”

Charlie ducked his head, avoiding his eye. “Oh, it’s fine. It’s cool.”

“Charlie.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” he huffed, nudging Nick’s shoulder with his. He looked up at Nick and smiled wickedly. “Whatever. I can’t wait to nibble on your buns later.”

“You’re a dork,” Nick told him seriously, but his exasperated expression quickly eased into a grin when Charlie pinched him in the side.

His laughter died as a figure suddenly appeared beside them and Nick nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus, Victoria,” Charlie snapped. “I keep telling you to wear a fucking bell or something.”

“I’m not a cat, Charles,” she responded dryly. “I need to talk to you.”

“Fine. Would you at least say hello to Nick like a normal person, please?”

Tori’s eyes flicked slowly over to Nick, looking like she was trying very hard not to roll them. “Hello, Nicholas.”

“Oh. Hi – hello,” Nick stammered, the intensity of her gaze making him freeze up. “Yes. Happy bir – no, um, it’s not your – uh. Good evening.”

Tori did roll her eyes then, at the same time as Charlie let out an almost hysterical giggle. Nick whipped round to glare at him, which only made Charlie laugh harder.

“I’ll be right back,” Charlie said, and then he calmed as he reached out to squeeze Nick’s hand and added lowly, “don’t go too far, yeah?”

Nick could only nod, the tone of Charlie’s voice sending butterflies straight into his stomach. That was Charlie’s I have plans for you voice, and Nick was more than ready for those plans.

He spotted Poppy charging towards him again after running around and greeting everyone. Nick beamed and knelt down in the sand to say hello to her properly. She yapped happily and licked at his face as he scratched her ears. Nick heard someone else approaching and looked up to find one of the younger regulars at Sundance, Imogen, looking down at him.

“That dog is going to adopt you,” she chuckled.

Nick smiled back up at her. He liked Imogen; they had chatted a few times at the bar and she seemed friendly with Michael and Charlie, too.

“Don’t tell Mrs Hewitt, but I might well take Poppy with me when I head back to London.”

“Some days she would tell you you’re welcome to her, I’m sure.” Imogen grinned as she kicked at the sand with her bare foot. “How does Charlie feel about you going back to London so soon, anyway?”

Nick’s head snapped upwards to look at her, feeling slightly panicked. Did people know about their… thing? Between Mrs Hewitt making comments about his buns and now Imogen asking about him leaving, Nick worried that he had been too obvious. He knew he tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve for all to see, but he hadn’t realised he was doing that with Charlie, too. And if everyone else seemed to be able to see it, could Charlie? Nick didn’t want to fuck up what they had by being too much, and the thought of Charlie seeing right through him was downright terrifying.

“Oh, Nick, I’m sorry,” Imogen winced at his expression. “I didn’t mean to – I didn’t mean to presume anything about the two of you. It’s just – well, it’s kind of obvious. The way you look at each other and how you spend every moment together, I – I’m so sorry.”

Nick shook his head as he stood up, offering her a slightly shaky smile as Poppy ran off towards her next cuddle target. His head spun as he got up, the many drinks he'd had over the evening seemig to hit all at once. “Don’t apologise. It’s okay. We’re only – we’re not – um, it’s…” he trailed off, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Complicated.” Imogen gave him an understanding nod. “I get it. We’re a long way from real life here.”

“Yeah. It does feel that way.”

“Well, I’m sorry for bringing it up. And just – look after yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll try,” he promised, and then hesitated. He looked at Imogen’s patient, kind face and took a deep breath. “I – I don’t think I’ve been doing as good a job of that as I thought I was, actually.”

Her smile turned knowing. “Mm, I thought that look on your face was familiar. If you ever want to talk about it or Charlie, you can come over for a chat anytime.”

“Thanks, Imogen. I really appreciate that,” Nick said. He did appreciate it, knowing he had someone else here to talk to outside of Charlie. He thought he might even take her up on that offer if he kept failing so miserably at casual.

Just then, arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “What are we appreciating?”

“Your spectacular inability to hold your alcohol, darling,” Imogen quipped back with a fond smile as Charlie’s head popped around Nick’s torso.

“Um, rude,” Charlie scoffed, his voice sounding a little bit slurred.

“Right my loves, I need to go and see a man about a tequila shot. I’ll catch up with you both later.” Imogen saluted and spun on her heel to skip towards the make-shift bar that was set up on a folding table nearby.

Nick watched her go, glad she had come over to talk to him despite it making him feel more than a little bit exposed.

“What did Immy want with you?” Charlie asked, sliding around until he was pressed against Nick’s front instead, resting his chin on Nick’s chest and looking up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

Nick couldn’t help but smile back down at him, one hand wrapping around Charlie’s shoulders as the other brushed a curl from his eyes. They had never been like this in public before, so blatantly touchy feely. Nick blamed the alcohol.

“We were just chatting.”

“Hmm,” Charlie narrowed his eyes and pouted up at him. “Chatting.”

“Charlie,” Nick laughed, flexing his arm around Charlie’s shoulder and jogging him a little. “Are you – you’re not jealous, are you?”

“I don’t do jealous,” Charlie argued, but there was an edge to his voice that suggested he very much did do jealous.

“Mhmm. Come sit by the fire with me?”

Charlie sighed dramatically and then pulled back. “Fine. If I must.”

It was fully dark by then, the only light coming from the slowly dying fire and the moon hung high in the sky. Nick and Charlie perched on a rock with their sides pressed together to watch the fire roar on. They listened to the two people with guitars play a song that Nick was sure he recognised but couldn’t quite place.

“This is nice,” Charlie whispered from where his head was resting on Nick’s shoulder. “I love these nights.”

Nick tipped forward slightly so he could see the fire’s reflection dancing in Charlie’s eyes. Those eyes. They were stunning in any light, but this was something else.

“Yeah. It’s pretty nice,” he agreed.

God, he wanted to kiss Charlie so badly. They had never kissed outside of Nick’s flat before though, never without it leading to something more. Nick wasn’t sure if he should, if he was allowed, but he also didn’t really care at this point. He was half-drunk on cheap rum and even drunker on the music and the atmosphere, and his inhibitions were definitely lower. When Charlie turned his head, the look he was giving Nick suggested he felt the same way.

“Charlie,” he breathed. “I – can we –”

Charlie didn’t let him get another word out, instead leaning forward to close the remaining distance between them. Nick’s hand came up to slide across Charlie’s jaw and hold him close. He felt Charlie’s hand curl into his hoodie as he pressed closer still, tilting his head for a better angle.

They lost time like that. It could’ve been seconds or hours or days that they sat there, slowly kissing by the warmth of the fire. He was vaguely aware that people could see them, that now the whole town would definitely know about them, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

When they separated, Charlie stayed close. He took in a shaky breath as he rested his forehead against Nick’s and Nick couldn’t help but sigh into the air between them. He held Charlie in place with a hand in his hair and then moved so he could press a gentle, lingering kiss to Charlie’s forehead and then back down for one more against his lips.

Charlie hummed and then leaned back to look up at Nick. His expression was hard to read, but the very corner of his mouth turned upwards. “Are you ready to leave?”

Nick smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

After a quick goodbye to Michael, Nick and Charlie started to slowly walk away from the party and back towards their end of Praa Sands. They walked beside the sea, the tide lapping at Nick’s ankles as he carried his Vans in one hand. The other was shoved in his pocket with Charlie’s arm linked through his as he leant on Nick as they walked.

“You know you don’t need to be scared of Tori, right?” Charlie nudged him after they were safely out of earshot of anyone else.

“I am not scared of Tori,” Nick spluttered.

Charlie snorted and dug his fingers into Nick’s forearm. “Bullshit. Oh, uh, hi, uh, happy birthday, uh,” he mimicked, his voice pitched down in a terrible imitation of Nick’s.

“I do not sound like that, you twat.”

“Whatever you say, Nicholas. But I promise, she’s not that bad.”

“I’m not scared of her! Or, well. I wasn’t, until you started panicking when I told you I’d had a conversation with her. Then I got a bit scared.”

“Yeah, that – I’m sorry about that. She was being – it doesn’t matter. We’d had an argument the night before and I was worried she would say something stupid to you.”

Nick turned his head to nuzzle his nose in Charlie’s hair. “Everything okay now?”

“Oh, we’re fine. We fight all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

“So no more fighting when she kidnapped you earlier tonight then?”

Charlie turned his head and stole the quickest of kisses from Nick’s lips before pulling his arm free and walking backwards until he was a few steps ahead. “No more fighting, mum. Promise.”

Nick rolled his eyes and pretended to swing his shoes towards Charlie. “Brat.”

“You have no idea, Nelson.”

“I think I have some idea,” Nick argued, advancing on Charlie and trapping him in his arms again. “I could probably think of ways to further my studies, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nick breathed, leaning forward to close the gap between their mouths again. Any moment spent not kissing Charlie felt like a waste at this point.

Except before he could, Charlie had backed away and was off, running down the beach away from him. Nick gaped at his retreating back.

“Gotta catch me first!” Charlie called back over his shoulder, cackling as he sped away.

“Little shit,” Nick muttered under his breath, and then he was off to start the impossible task of trying to catch a running Charlie Spring. 

Nick was exhausted when they got back to his flat. Charlie had pushed him against the wall to kiss him senseless the minute the door closed behind him, but after a few moments the kiss slowed and Charlie had sagged against his body.

“Fuck. I’m a bit sleepy, actually,” he had said, looking up at Nick. He was fucking adorable, all bleary eyed and pouty.

“Cup of tea and then bed?” Nick asked. As soon as the words left him he groaned, his head falling against Charlie's. “Fuck, we’re old.”

“Speak for yourself, Photo Boy. I am young and spritely and still in my twenties, thank you very much.”

Nick snorted. “Aye, for what? Another eight months or something?”

“Fuck off and make me a cup of tea, you dickhead.”

By the time they rolled into bed half an hour later, Nick was desperate to close his eyes and sleep. He rolled towards Charlie in the middle of the bed though, smiling at his sleepy expression. They lay like that, face to face, sharing slow kisses as they grew even more tired. Nick’s stomach was doing flips, the butterflies swarming every time Charlie cupped his jaw or ran a finger down the slope of his nose or caught the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Nick pressed a kiss to the pad of that thumb and watched as Charlie’s eyes lit up. It was all so soft and tender that Nick ached with it.

“M’gonna fall asleep,” Charlie murmured, his eyelids fluttering in his fight to keep them open.

Charlie had never fallen asleep in his bed before without having had an orgasm first and Nick wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that.

“That’s okay,” he said eventually, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s waist.

“But we haven’t – oh, fuck it, I’m too tired to care.”

Nick chuckled and nuzzled his nose into Charlie’s neck. “Night, Char.”

“Mmm. N’night, Nick.”

And this was fine, it was fine that they were going to fall asleep without fucking first. That didn’t mean anything. Nothing had shifted tonight over fires and drinks and music and conversations with near strangers. Nick was still enjoying exactly what they had and wasn’t trying to make anything more out of it.

They were still casual, they were still just fucking. Even though they weren’t actually fucking. And that was good, Nick was good.

He was absolutely and categorically not falling for Charlie Spring.

Chapter Text

Your body is so different from mine
And behind your two eyes, there's a whole different mind
I almost forget we aren't fused at the hip when we talk like this

And this awe, it will last my whole life
If I think for too long, I get so close to crying
It's hard to believe that you're real and with me when we talk like this

I am honoured to see you, and really be seen, when we talk like this

🌊🌊🌊

When Nick woke up the day after Michael’s party, something felt different. Falling asleep together because they wanted to and not only because they were too stupid from sex to move was new. Nick would be lying if he said it didn’t set something off inside him.

Charlie groaned beside him, his face buried in his pillow and his whole body wrapped up in Nick’s duvet. That meant, of course, that Nick was blanket-less, but he didn’t mind so much. He ran hot and Charlie always seemed to be cold, so if he needed all of the covers then Nick would just deal with it.

He heard a muffled noise that he thought was supposed to be words and looked towards Charlie with a smile.

“Say again, sleepy?”

Charlie made an unhappy noise and turned his head slightly. “Coffee.”

“Wow. Wow. What am I, your personal coffee maid?”

“Yes,” Charlie shot back without any hesitation. His frown morphed into a smirk as he slowly opened one eye. “Maid, huh? I could get behind that. Is there a costume?”

“Fuck right off,” Nick huffed. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“And bacon.”

“Charlie!”

Both of Charlie’s eyes opened and he grinned. “Or we could talk more about this maid’s outfit. Up to you.”

“You’re a menace, did you know that?”

“Hmm, I’ve been told. Now get that pretty little bum of yours into the kitchen and get me my caffeine.”

The rain came back with a vengeance as August trundled on, forcing Nick and Charlie to spend most of their time either in Sundance or Nick’s flat. Charlie went through more books than Nick could count and Nick started reading them too once he was done. He didn’t take much in, but it was nice to properly switch off for a while. Nick thought this must have been what his mum had intended when she told him to get away for a while. He hadn’t felt ready for it at the time, too busy feeling sorry for himself and the state of his life. Now though, things didn’t feel quite so gloomy. Despite the rain still ruining most of his photo opportunities and him still feeling the absence of Nellie every single day, Nick knew he was smiling more often and laughing more easily than he had done in months. Years, probably.

He was finally starting to feel rested.

On the days Charlie was working, Nick took himself to St. Ives more often than not. He had fallen in love with the town, getting to know the people working in his favourite lunch spots and waving at locals he repeatedly saw on the beach. He had grown particularly attached to the Tate Museum that looked out over Porthmeor Beach. He had been to the Tate in London a handful of times and never warmed to it, but this one was another matter entirely. It wasn’t even the art so much that stole his heart but the building itself. It sat perched on the hill overlooking the beach, a brilliant and stark white. Its large, curved front stood out along the seafront, its windows reflecting the beautiful turquoise sea back at passersby.

Nick had bought a membership the second time he'd visited so that he could come and go as he pleased for the rest of his stay. He had only ever walked through the gallery itself twice, spending the majority of his time either in the covered, heated balcony off the top floor café or by the wall to ceiling curved windows on the first floor looking out over the beach. It was perfect for rainy days. Charlie was right the first time he had brought Nick here - the lighting, no matter the weather, was beautiful.

Nick lost hours there, gazing out across the sand and sea and thinking about his life back home. He facetimed his mum or finally texted Tara and Darcy back, catching up with them and showing them his favourite view. He took photo after photo, failing every time to capture how gorgeous it all was. He watched the dogs running across the beach and thought about Nellie, processing her loss a little more every time. He cried out there on his favourite little balcony spot, surrounded by kind strangers and cool breezes.

He couldn’t help it. He had well and truly fallen in love with St. Ives.

Nick would time his arrivals back in Praa Sands to coincide with Charlie finishing his shifts. He would meet him outside Sundance, waving at Michael and whatever locals were inside that day before they walked back up the hill to Nick’s together. Sometimes they would waste no time falling into bed, sometimes they just spent time together. Nick was greedy for those nights, could never get enough of them.

On one of them, he’d had a particularly good day. When he had met Charlie after work, he'd kissed Nick hello right there outside the bar for the first time. Nick blinked in surprise as Charlie carried on like nothing unusual had happened and he couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. He tried his best to get through Charlie’s latest discarded novel but he couldn’t focus even slightly.  

He looked up from the book and glanced across the room to where Charlie was curled up on the other sofa, wrapped in a blanket. He was leaning against one arm of the chair with his legs spread out in front of him and a dog-eared book in his hands. Nick smiled as he watched his eyes dart across the pages.

Charlie looked so soft like this. His walls had started to fall slightly when he was in Nick’s space, the sass and the teasing coming down a notch. Now, with a blanket over his shoulders and his socked feet stuffed underneath one of the cushions, his expression loose and relaxed, Nick couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He was broken from his thoughts as Charlie cleared his throat and looked up from his book. “You’re staring at me again, Nelson.”

Nick didn’t even bother apologising. He closed his own book and left it on his sofa, moving over towards Charlie instead. He lifted Charlie’s legs up and sat in their place, letting them fall back onto his lap. Charlie grumbled about being disturbed but Nick ignored him, resting a hand on Charlie’s ankle and squeezing gently.

“As you were,” Nick said, nodding towards Charlie’s book.

Charlie rolled his eyes but he looked back down and continued to read anyway. Nick kept watching him, his fingers tracing patterns on Charlie’s ankle bone. They stayed like that until Nick noticed that Charlie hadn’t turned his page in a long while.

“You’re not even reading any more, are you?” he teased.

“How am I meant to with you gawking at me and touching me? For fuck’s sake.”

“I’m sitting here minding my own business!”

“You’re so annoying,” Charlie huffed, digging his heel into Nick’s thigh. His words didn’t hold much weight when he crawled right into Nick’s lap afterwards though, sitting sideways and curling into his chest.

“Annoying, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Nick laughed, tightening his arms around Charlie’s body. He pressed a kiss behind Charlie’s ear and then lingered, his nose hidden in soft hair. Charlie always smelled so good, and Nick couldn’t get enough.

They settled like that, Charlie closing his eyes and sinking into Nick’s arms. Nick stared out of the windows, watching the patterns the rain made on the glass as he relaxed back into the sofa cushions. He loved the evenings they spent like this, lazing around inside, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“What are you reading?” he murmured eventually.

“Nothing now, dickhead.”

Nick snorted. “Read to me?”

There was a pause for a moment until Charlie leant back so he could see Nick’s face properly. He considered him for a moment with a frown and Nick thought he had royally fucked up until Charlie’s expression smoothed out again.

“Really?”

“If you want to. I love listening to your voice, Char. I would listen to you read your fucking shopping list, probably.”

“You’re a very strange man, Nick Nelson,” Charlie told him with an exaggerated sigh, but he crawled off Nick’s lap and sat upright beside him instead, picking his discarded book back up. He then tugged at Nick’s arm until he got the hint and veered sideways, lifting his feet up onto the sofa and laying his head in Charlie's lap.

“Right, you asked for it. Brideshead Revisited is one of my all-time favourite books so I will not hear a word of criticism, you hear me?” Charlie said sternly, looking down at Nick and narrowing his eyes.

Nick grinned back up at him and then wiggled until he was comfy, flat on his back with one of Charlie’s hands in his hair.

Heaven.

“Okay, where was I?” Charlie muttered. Nick closed his eyes and relaxed into his warmth, and then Charlie cleared his throat and began to read. “Here under that high and insolent dome, under those coffered ceilings; here, as I passed through those arches and broken pediments to the pillared shade beyond and sat, hour by hour, before the fountain, probing its shadows, tracing its lingering echoes, rejoicing in all its clustered feats of daring and invention, I felt a whole new system of nerves alive within me, as though the water that spurted and bubbled among its stones, was indeed a life-giving spring.”

“That’s beautiful,” Nick whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Shh,” Charlie hushed him, stroking his free hand through Nick’s hair again. “One day in a cupboard we found a large japanned-tin box of oil-paints still in workable condition…”

Nick stopped listening to specific words after that and let Charlie’s voice wash over him, slowly and gently lulling him into the best sleep he’d had in a very long time.

Most of their evenings followed a similar pattern until the following Friday when Nick had kicked Charlie's shins under the covers as they woke up in the morning. “Raining again. Do you want to watch a film or something tonight? I don’t think my eyes can cope with any more reading.”

“Oh, no, we have plans tonight,” Charlie said nonchalantly.

“We… do?”

“We do. Some of my friends have a gig in this pub in Penzance and I told them we would make an appearance.”

Nick felt ridiculous for how giddy the word we made him feel. The fact that Charlie hadn’t even asked him about it - that he had assumed Nick would be there - sent his stomach swooping, and the fact that Charlie’s friends knew about him made him feel like they were more than they were.

He didn’t hate the thought.

To avoid the sudden rush of emotion, Nick raised an eyebrow at him. “And what if I had actual plans tonight? Elsewhere?”

“Please. Where else are you going to go without me, Nicholas?”

Nick considered his response for half a second before he let his mouth fall into a smirk. “Maybe I have plans with Imogen.”

Charlie’s head snapped round to look at him. “No you don’t,” he said, though he sounded a little uncertain.

“No, I don’t,” Nick grinned, deciding to go easy on him. “I’m just being a shit. Of course I’ll come to the gig with you.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Charlie grumbled, rolling over until he was fully on top of Nick and digging sharp fingers into his ribs. “That was very rude of you.”

Nick giggled. Fucking giggled.

“Soz,” he shrugged, sliding his arms around Charlie’s waist and then flipping them over.

“Christ, you’re so heavy,” Charlie wheezed, but he was already dragging his hands down Nick's back. Nick hummed happily as Charlie’s hands went lower, lower and then squeezed. “Your arse should be illegal, fucking hell.”

Nick choked on his laugh. “Wow. Thanks, I think?”

“I mean it.” Charlie hummed, craning his head up so he could kiss Nick’s neck. “It’s a shame you don’t bottom. Bet you’d be so good.”

Nick pulled back and looked down at Charlie, his head tilted slightly to one side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s a shame you’re exclusively a top.”

“Um. I’m not? Not exclusively.”

“Wait, what?” Charlie squeaked, his head falling back against the pillow.

“Wow. So many assumptions, Charles. What, is it because I’m big or something? Because I play sports? Grr, man does fucking,” Nick growled in his best caveman voice.

“No! It’s because you always tell me how much you want to fuck me!”

“Because I do!” Nick responded, amused by Charlie’s slightly hysterical tone. “And because you keep saying you want me to. I figured you only bottomed.”

“Also not exclusively, Nicholas!”

Nick’s amusement was wiped right off his face as he took in that piece of information, his mouth going dry. “Holy shit. Wait, really?”

“Yes!”

“You mean we could’ve been – like – you could’ve been fucking me this whole time, too?”

“Jesus Christ. There’s a lesson in here about stereotypes and assumptions but I’m too turned on to care.”

“Are we – can we -” Nick started to ask, but he was interrupted when Charlie’s phone alarm went off on his bedside table.

Charlie groaned, slapping his hand against the mattress in frustration. “Fuck. I have to leave for work. We don’t have time for this now.”

“Noooooo,” Nick whined, dropping all of his weight onto Charlie as if he could trap him there. Maybe forever, if he was lucky.

Charlie chuckled and slid a hand into Nick’s hair, tugging until Nick lifted his head to look at him. “To be continued,” he promised, kissing Nick once very quickly before shoving him off and rolling out of the bed.

Fuck.

Nick was distracted all day. How could he not be? And when Charlie met him outside the flat that evening they very nearly didn’t make it further than Nick’s doorstep. Charlie, the little shit, was in his usual skin tight, ripped skinny jeans, but he’d paired it with a dark grey t-shirt that had clearly been cut at the bottom. It now fell loosely down Charlie’s arms and chest and stopped just above the belt of his jeans, a sliver of skin peeking out from underneath.

A crop top. He was wearing a crop top.

“Charlie,” he protested when he noticed that Charlie was also wearing a smudge of eyeliner. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Me?” Charlie scoffed, dragging his eyes slowly down Nick’s body. “Hypocrite.”

Nick wasn’t entirely sure what Charlie saw in his plain white t-shirt and dark jeans, but he imagined it had something to do with the way they clung to his body. He had definitely, absolutely not worn his tightest clothes on purpose. Of course not.

It was a short taxi ride to Penzance, during which Charlie told Nick a bit about the band they were seeing at The Crumb that evening.

“They’re called Shore and they only really play small bars around Cornwall but they’re pretty good. I actually knew their bassist, Sahar, at uni. She moved back home after and reunited with a bunch of people she used to play with in high school. Their singer, Dev, is such a good showman. I think you’ll like them.”

“Char, you know I barely know any music that came after Fleetwood Mac,” Nick deadpanned in response.

“Okay, fine,” Charlie allowed. “I like them, and you like me, and therefore you must like them, too. Understood?”

Nick laughed, but he couldn’t argue with that logic.

The pub was tiny, barely bigger than a large living room. White stone walls with fairy lights strung up all around them made it feel a little bit bigger, as well as the far too many people crammed into the space. It was packed and Charlie immediately greeted a few people as soon as they walked in the door. Even Nick recognised a few faces from Praa Sands.

There was an old rug laid out in one corner of the room where a drum kit and two microphones were set up. A tall, slim man was fiddling with one of the mic stands, dressed in leather trousers and a sheer black blouse. Nick could see glitter shimmering on his dark skin where the buttons were undone down to his navel. He was stunning, and Nick’s stomach tightened when he saw Charlie meet the man’s eye.

“There’s Dev, I’ll just pop over and say hi,” he told Nick, pushing through the crowd before Nick could even respond.

“Right. I’ll get the drinks in, then,” Nick muttered to himself.

He gave himself a pep talk as he waited to be served. He was rapidly starting to feel like he shouldn’t be here at all, like he would’ve been better off staying at home and watching a film by himself and letting Charlie have fun with his friends on his own. Everyone in the pub looked so cool, the kind of cool that Nick would never be able to emulate in a million years. They were cool in the way that Charlie was cool, self-assured and smart and sexy as fuck. Nick could never be them. Could never be good enough for them.

The barman asked for his order and distracted Nick from staring at Charlie and Dev mid-hug. He ordered a pint for himself and a Whisky Sour for Charlie and then hovered awkwardly by the bar, waiting for Charlie to come and get him.

God. What was he doing here?

Nick took a large gulp of his beer and tried to pull himself together. When he went to glance back over towards the stage area, Charlie was right in front of him again.

“Christ, Charlie. Gonna start calling you Tori.”

“Shut up. What are you looking so angsty about?”

“I’m not looking angsty,” Nick said, though he knew he didn't have a very good poker face. He held Charlie’s drink out instead to distract him. “Here.”

“Oh, you hero,” Charlie beamed, his eyes lighting up. And then he went up on his tiptoes, leaned in and kissed Nick right on the lips. In the middle of the busy bar. With people all around them.

Nick stared down at him, dazed. They hadn’t really been out together much since the bonfire the week before, but Nick hadn’t realised they were kissing in public people now. He figured the beach party was a one off, a drunken slip up.

“Okay?” Charlie asked, his gaze darting between Nick’s lips and eyes. Nick nodded probably a little too enthusiastically, which made Charlie smile. “Good. Come on then, they’ll be starting soon.”

The band were good, though Nick would freely admit that he didn’t pay the closest attention to them. Not when Charlie had shuffled in front of him and was leaning back against his chest, bopping up and down to the beat and sipping at his drink. Nick had stood stiffly behind him for a moment, unsure how he was supposed to act. Charlie had been very clear that they weren’t together, not properly, but his behaviour tonight was confusing Nick to no end. This didn’t feel like the behaviour of someone who only wanted casual, of someone who didn’t feel anything.

Then again, Nick hadn’t really done casual for more than one night before so what did he know?

After his initial panic he decided the best thing to do was to just lean into it. He slipped an arm around Charlie’s waist and rested his hand over his hip bone, keeping him close. At the touch, Charlie turned his head to smile at him and then went back to watching the band.

Nick suddenly didn’t feel quite so out of place anymore.

When the band took a break and the majority of the crowd headed back towards the bar, Charlie moved out of Nick’s hold and turned to grin at him.

“What did you think?”

“Yeah! Yeah, they were really – ”

“Charlie, baby,” a voice cut Nick off, and then Dev was there in front of them. Charlie immediately stepped forwards to throw his arms around his neck. Nick felt his fist clench by his side and tried to pull himself together.

“You were incredible, Devvy.”

“Oh, I know,” Dev drawled. “I hate seeing you on this side of the stage. You should be up there with us.”

Nick’s brain screeched to a halt as the words sunk in. Charlie? Charlie should be up there with them?

“Well sack your drummer permanently then, you idiot,” Charlie shot back.

Drummer. Drummer. Was Charlie a –

“I’m Dev,” Dev interrupted Nick’s thoughts, holding his hand out. “It’s so nice to meet Charlie’s –”

“Nick!” Charlie said, very quickly and very loudly. “This is Nick.”

Dev’s eyebrows shot up as he gave Charlie an amused look. “Nick. Hello, Nick.”

“Hey,” Nick greeted, trying his best to be normal and friendly. “You were great up there.”

“Thanks, Charlie’s Nick,” Dev saluted him. He then yelped as Charlie’s Doc connected with his shin. “Ow! Fuck you, Spring.”

“Fuck you harder, Shah.”

Nick watched the interaction warily. He hadn’t heard Charlie speak to other people like this before, with that playful banter they had together. Realistically, Nick knew that Charlie wouldn’t be different around him than he was with everyone else, but it still felt a little jarring to see the way Charlie was smiling at his friend.

A horrible, awful thought crossed his mind. Before he could summon his rational brain, images of Dev grinding up against his microphone during the show earlier were replaced with those of his body against Charlie’s. The face Charlie made when he came was so deeply ingrained in Nick’s memory that it didn’t take much for his imagination to conjure it up now, only this time with Dev’s head between his legs.

Fuck.

Nick excused himself as politely as he could, moving towards the bar and leaning heavily on it. He took a few deep breaths as he thought about all of the people he had seen Charlie talking to tonight. They were all gorgeous, because of course they were. Each and every one of them was much cooler than Nick could ever dream of being and that realisation sent a spark of something familiar through Nick’s veins. That bitter taste in his mouth, the clench of his stomach, the tightness in his chest.

Jealousy.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Charlie had ever dated any of them, slept with any of them. Would he again once Nick was gone? Was he now, even with Nick just down the road?

Nick tried to stop the thought before it properly formed. When would Charlie have the time to be seeing anyone else when he spent most of his nights in Nick’s bed? Besides, it shouldn’t matter even if he was because Nick and Charlie weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t boyfriends, they weren’t exclusive, they weren’t long term. Charlie could do whatever, or whomever, he wanted.

Even if it did make Nick feel a bit sick.

An arm slid around his waist from behind and Nick, despite his anxiety spiral, felt that sense of relief seep through him as Charlie pressed against his back.

“You okay?” Charlie asked. Nick nodded, but Charlie’s arm tightened as he made a disbelieving sound. “Want to go get some air?”

Nick turned to look at Charlie’s concerned expression. Charlie unwound his arms and took Nick’s hand instead, leading him through the crowded bar and out the door. He leant back against the wall and rested one foot on it, stopping Nick in front of him and reaching out. He pressed a palm to Nick’s forehead and pushed his hair off his face, smiling softly at him. “What’s going on in that pretty head?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m being ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous if it’s making your face all frowny and sad,” Charlie told him, his fingers smoothing the crinkles on Nick’s forehead.

“It is, though. I got in my head about something very stupid. I’m alright now.”

“I know I haven’t known you very long, but we’ve spent a lot of time together these last few weeks. I know when you’re lying, I know when your smile isn’t real.”

Nick sucked in a shaky breath. It was both thrilling and painful to know that Charlie could read him so well. On the one hand, Nick loved being seen. He loved that Charlie could simply glance at him and know how he was feeling. On the other hand, what did it matter? Nick had two and a half weeks left in Cornwall and then he would have to leave Charlie 300 miles away. It wasn’t as if he could pop down to Praa Sands every weekend; a six-hour drive or even longer by public transport wasn’t exactly a quick trip. It didn’t matter if Charlie was starting to feel like his person, the person, and it didn’t matter if Charlie could read him like one of his books. The fact still stood that at the end of the month, Nick would pack up and drive away from what they had.

Besides, Charlie had explicitly said it multiple times now. He didn’t do relationships.

And great. Now Nick had made himself even sadder.

“Nick,” Charlie urged, craning forward to kiss Nick’s cheek softly. “Talk to me.”

“I was just – I was thinking about London and your friends and I got a bit… I don’t know. Or maybe the band was so good that I just can't hold in my emotions a second longer.”

Charlie snorted. “Stop deflecting. What were you thinking about my friends?”

“I don’t want to say. It’s really offensive and entirely unfair.”

“Okay. You were wondering which ones I may or may not have slept with, then?”

Fuck. Nick winced, ducking his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like I didn’t do the same the second I saw you talking to Imogen at the party last week.”

Nick managed to huff a laugh at that, reaching out to tug at the bottom of Charlie’s slightly cropped t-shirt. His knuckles brushed against the exposed skin above Charlie's waistband. “Yeah. I’m regretting teasing you about that now.”

“As you should, you twat,” Charlie sniffed. He linked his own hands together in front of himself and looked somewhere beyond Nick’s shoulder. “I think – I think jealousy is very natural. Like, I get jealous of people my friends are close to, or of people who have it all figured out. It doesn’t have to mean you’re a caveman or anything. It doesn’t have to mean it’s… romantic. Jealousy is, like, a physical reaction sometimes. Not always an emotional one.”

Or, Nick thought, it could just be romantic.

“Yeah,” he agreed instead of opening that can of worms. “Anyway, moving on. Dev mentioned you – uh. You play with the band sometimes?”

“Oh, God, he was overselling me. As usual.” Charlie rolled his eyes as he reached out for Nick’s t-shirt and pulled him in close. “I play with them very, very occasionally. And I mean, like, literally when Jay is sick or away or whatever. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been on the stage here.”

“So you actually do play the drums?”

“I do. I did. I – yeah. I don’t have a kit anymore, but Jay lets me play in their garage sometimes.”

“Holy shit,” Nick breathed, his eyes dipping to Charlie’s lips. Could he actually get any hotter?

“Oh, that cheered you up, didn’t it?” Charlie smirked, sliding his hand up the back of Nick’s t-shirt and pressing him in closer. “So fickle, you are.”

“Mhmm. That’s me. Even though it’s all your fault for being good at literally everything and being so hot it might actually kill me one of these days.”

Charlie snorted, but his laugh turned into a sigh when Nick dragged his lips along Charlie’s jaw. Fuck jealousy, fuck all the people who have been lucky enough to have Charlie in their beds – Nick was the lucky one right now, and that would have to do.

“We keep doing this,” he hummed, nuzzling his nose into Charlie's neck. Charlie’s eyelids fluttered as Nick pressed his lips against warm skin.

“Doing what?”

“Escaping parties to hang out with each other.”

“Well. How would you feel about properly sneaking out?”

Nick pulled back and smirked at Charlie. “Oh, yeah? Can’t resist me a second longer?”

“God, you’re unbearable sometimes, you know that?”

“Unbearably sexy?” Nick waggled his eyebrows.

“Ew. I think I preferred you confused and depressed.” Charlie wrinkled his nose and Nick burst out a surprised laugh.

“Wow. And you think I’m going to fuck you after that, do you?”

“No. I think I’m going to fuck you, actually,” Charlie said, as calmly as if he’d just mentioned the weather forecast for the next day.

Nick choked on his breath, eyes going wide. Charlie’s expression wavered for a second.

“Unless – unless you didn’t actually mean what you said earlier. Obviously we don’t have to do it that way.”

“No!” Nick rushed out, far too quickly to show any kind of chill. “No, I – I definitely meant it. I – I absolutely, one hundred percent meant that I want that.”

“Oh. Good. That’s — that’s good.”

“Right then.” Nick nodded once and then turned and started walking towards the taxi rank by the train station a few buildings down the road.

“Um. Nick?” Charlie called after him.

Nick spun around, walking backwards. “Hurry up then. I’ve been waiting for this for weeks, Spring.”

They didn’t say much on the taxi journey home. They both sat in the back, Charlie in the middle seat with his hand on Nick’s knee. The simple touch was setting every nerve in Nick’s body on fire with anticipation, his leg tapping up and down as if it would make the driver go quicker.

As soon as they had been dropped off and the car had driven away, Charlie was grabbing Nick’s hand and dragging him up the steps towards his front door. Nick laughed as he was tugged along, amused but hardly complaining. Within seconds of the door closing behind them, Charlie had him pinned against the wall and was mouthing at his neck.

“Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this, Nick,” Charlie said, his voice low and hushed. “If I’d known you liked this, I would’ve begged the very first night.”

“You should’ve said something. I hate that we haven’t been doing what you wanted.”

Charlie lifted his head to give Nick an incredulous look. “We have absolutely been doing what I wanted, Nick. I would’ve told you if I only wanted to top. But I love both equally, so I figured there was no point saying anything. I would’ve been very, very happy to keep on bottoming for you, Nick Nelson.”

“Why are you so perfect?” Nick breathed. “God, I’m so excited to do this. Please hurry up.”

Charlie gave him a wolfish grin. “With pleasure.”

They were both almost undressed before they even got to Nick’s room. Charlie was left in one sock and just his boxers while Nick had somehow ended up in only his t-shirt.

“Alright, Winnie the Pooh,” Charlie giggled as he tugged at the hem of Nick’s top.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nick laughed, taking over from Charlie and sweeping his t-shirt over his head. As soon as it was off, he grabbed Charlie by the waist and walked him backwards until they both fell onto the bed.

Nick reached for the lube and condoms that they kept on his bedside table – they didn’t even bother putting them away in the drawer at this point – while Charlie stripped the rest of his clothes off. They came back together with greedy mouths and even greedier hands, pressing so close they may as well have been one, Nick plastering his body flat on top of Charlie’s. He was already starting to shake, his hands unsteady as he reached down to take Charlie in his hand.

Charlie moaned and arched into the touch, his fingernails digging into Nick’s shoulder as he steadied himself. Nick wanted to watch his face but he couldn’t stop kissing him, desperate and messy. He only broke the kiss when Charlie’s hand wrapped around him too, his head falling down onto Charlie’s sweaty shoulder.

“Get a move on,” he ordered. “I won’t last if you keep touching me. Char, come on.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Charlie nodded. “How do you want me?”

Nick groaned at the question alone. God, he wanted Charlie in every way. He wanted Charlie to take him on all fours, he wanted to ride him, he wanted everything. How was he meant to pick one way to do this?

“I – I don’t – ”

Charlie’s hand stilled and he cupped Nick’s jaw with the other. “It’s okay. Take a second.”

Nick did, taking a few deep breaths before he rolled off Charlie and onto his back. “Like this? I want to see you. Please?”

Charlie propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at Nick with a sweet smile. “Of course. And you’re one hundred percent sure about this?”

“God, yes.”

Charlie took his time, opening Nick up almost painfully slowly. He was touching Nick like he was something precious, like he deserved to be met with gentleness and sweetness. Nick felt a hot flash of humiliation shoot through him when tears prickled in the corners of his eyes.

“Still okay?” Charlie asked, kissing Nick's inner thigh.

“So okay,” Nick managed to croak out. “M’ready.”

The first press of Charlie against him had Nick keening, his hips lifting off the pillow underneath him. Charlie stroked his hair off his forehead and cooed words of encouragement as he oh so slowly pushed all the way in and then stilled. He was holding himself up with one arm and Nick could see it shaking as he held himself back.

“I’m good. You can move.”

“Thank fuck,” Charlie panted, and then he let go.

Nick couldn’t remember ever feeling as good as this. He had loved the sex they’d had so far, loved moving in Charlie and coaxing all of those delicious sounds out of him. This was different, though. This felt like being taken care of, being loved.

“Fuck, fuck, Charlie,” Nick gasped, his head slamming down into the mattress underneath him as Charlie changed his angle. “There. There.”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Charlie murmured, his face pressed into Nick’s neck.

Nick’s eyes fluttered shut and he lost himself to the feeling. It had been so long since he had done this – Rowan had only ever topped when Nick had really, really begged him to – and it was making him feel all kinds of things. Stupid, sappy thoughts filled his mind as Charlie moved inside him and he had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from saying something that would’ve absolutely ruined the moment.

Because, fuck, he liked Charlie. Nick liked him so, so much. It wasn’t that it took getting fucked to realise that, but it did drive the point home as Charlie whispered sweet words into his ear. He felt vulnerable but safe in Charlie’s arms and it was sending his mind racing.

“Nick,” Charlie gasped, ripping Nick back out of his reverie. “Close.”

That was what mattered in the moment. Nick’s teenage crush on the man he was fucking could wait; he wanted to be present for the end of this.

And so Nick slid his hand down Charlie’s arm, linked their fingers together, and switched his silly little brain right off.

Chapter Text

I spun around you like the world
You danced around me like heaven
I don't want to go home yet

When you asked, I got quiet
I know I should've just said it
Please don't go home yet

🌊🌊🌊

Nick woke up with an ache in his body, a warmth in his heart and soft fingers tracing his shoulder blade.

“How do you feel?” Charlie asked as Nick’s eyes fluttered open.

“Good. Very, very good.”

Charlie smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m glad.”

“Did you – was it okay for you?”

“Was it okay for me?” Charlie gawked at him. “Yes, Nicholas. It was okay for me.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

“Nick,” Charlie laughed, tugging gently at the chain around Nick’s neck. “It was really fucking good. Like; ‘can we do that again immediately’ good.”

“Well, maybe not immediately,” Nick grinned, squirming a little at the thought alone. “Give me a few hours.”

“Oh, I suppose so,” Charlie sighed but he was unable to hide his smile. “I need to go soon. Michael texted and asked if I could come in early to cover someone. But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

Nick smiled softly and reached for Charlie’s hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “I hope so.”

“Okay. Gonna go shower.” Charlie kissed him once quickly and then rolled out of bed, giving Nick a show as he sauntered fully naked towards the ensuite.

As soon as he was out of sight, Nick groaned and buried his head in his pillow. His very warm, very Charlie-smelling pillow.

God, he was fucked. He was so royally fucked. He hadn’t even realised it was happening, not fully, but now he was in too deep.

Nick had real, proper, full on romantic feelings for Charlie, and there was no going back.

He was so stupid. He knew casual never worked, not for him, and he knew that was all that Charlie could offer him. But when Charlie kissed him like he had last night, or looked at him like he did this morning, it was impossible for Nick to pretend he didn’t wish it meant more. It felt like it meant more. Why couldn’t it mean more?

A week and a half. That’s all they had left. That’s why it couldn’t mean more.

So, yeah. Nick was fucked.

Nick tried to carry on with his week as normal. He spent his days in St. Ives or wandering along Praa Sands, gathering a whole folder of sunshine pictures that he could send to Elle. She had responded so enthusiastically when he sent them to her, but none of them felt like the one. She had asked him to pick his top five to be displayed with one of those taking centre stage at the exhibit, but none of them spoke to him yet. And so, he kept trying.

He started joining Mrs Hewitt every couple of days for a dog walk followed by a coffee in Sundance. On those days, Charlie would bring them their drinks and lean against the table, flirting shamelessly with Nick, charming Mrs Hewitt and doting on Poppy until Tori popped her head out of the kitchen and summoned him back to the bar.

Spending that time with Poppy was starting to stitch together some of the cracks that the last year had left on Nick's heart. No dog could or would ever replace Nellie, but Poppy looking up at him with those same wise eyes reminded Nick that others could help him heal from her loss. He had started to feel that itch to get his own dog, to have someone to keep him company in his new flat when he got back to London. It was going to be a shock going from the tiny, close-knit community that was Praa Sands, going from having Charlie with him almost constantly, to moving in on his own in the city. He was starting to think he might need some company and a dog seemed like a good place to start.

Just as he was marvelling at how dogs could heal people, Nick had received the best text from his mum while he was on one of his Poppy walks.

Mum: *picture attached*

Mum: meet Henry!! This little sausage will be home with me next week and he can’t wait to meet you xxx

Nick had nearly cried when he opened the picture of a tiny pug puppy, tilting his head to the side, his little tongue lolling out of his mouth. Henry was perfect, and Nick was so relieved that his mum would have some permanent company again after Nick moved out.

He also made a point to FaceTime Tara and Darcy, knowing he’d been awful at keeping in touch with them while he had been away.

“Nicholas, you useless little bastard,” Darcy said when they answered the call.

Nick winced. He had called Tara hoping he’d get at least two minutes alone with her, but of course Darcy had answered their girlfriend’s phone.

“Hey, Darce.”

“I can’t believe you’re alive. We nearly sent sniffer dogs to find you. Your mother has been weeping every night awaiting your return.”

“I speak to my mum every day, Darcy.”

Darcy gasped, clasping their chest. “Well now I’m offended. You speak to Queen Sarah every day but can’t even respond to one of my texts in a week.”

And yeah, okay. They were being obnoxious about it, but they had a very fair point.

“Have you seen my phone?” Nick heard Tara call and then she appeared in front of the camera, her smile splitting her face when she saw him. “Nick! Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much. How are you doing, lovely?”

That just made Nick feel even guiltier for not being in touch enough. “I’m doing good, T. But tell me how you are. I want to know everything I’ve missed.”

“Buckle up, Nickernack, and listen as I list every single thing we’ve done since you’ve been gone.”

Nick huffed a laugh but did as he was told. He propped his phone up against his laptop on the coffee table and settled back on the sofa, letting Darcy talk. He really had missed them both so much and he would’ve listened to Darcy natter on for hours if Tara hadn’t stopped her with an exasperated but fond laugh.

“Babe, I love you, but I am dying to know what Nick has been up to. So shut the fuck up, yeah?” she teased. “Nick, you have more colour in your cheeks. You look… different, somehow. Lighter?”

Nick couldn’t help but smile. “I feel it. Honestly, I think this was exactly what I needed. Like, I have a little tear up over Nellie most days but everything else feels easier than it did before.”

“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that, Nick.” Tara beamed at him through the phone.

“You’ve had sex,” was what Darcy decided to contribute.

“Darcy!”

“What, Jonesy? Look at him! Our boy has been fucked or has been fucking. Tell me the last time you saw him this relaxed.”

“God, Darcy.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Nick chuckled. “They’re not wrong.”

Darcy cheered as Tara shouted his name, bouncing up and down on her bum on the sofa.

“Tell us everything!”

“Well, his name is Charlie.”

“Oh my God, Nick-and-Charlie. It’s perfect.”

“Darcy,” Nick laughed exasperatedly. “Look, it’s not - it’s not serious.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“Darce,” Tara hissed, and then turned back to Nick. “Not serious as in, really not serious? Or not serious as in, Nick Nelson not serious?”

“What does that mean?” Nick frowned.

“It means you’re a sappy little simp, babes.”

Tara snorted. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Um, rude.”

“We just mean that you get attached easily. I’m only worried that you’ll fall for this Charlie, even if you’ve said it’s not serious. And then maybe he… won’t.”

Nick ducked his head. A month of barely any contact and they could still see right through him.

“So you have, then?” Darcy asked. “Fallen for him?”

“It doesn’t matter if I have, does it? Because he doesn’t do relationships and I can’t do distance. So I’m just… enjoying it all while I have it. And it’s good. We’re having a lot of fun and he’s made me really happy the last month or so. We get each other. It doesn’t need to be anything beyond that.”

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Nickypoo, you’re going to get yourself hurt with that attitude.”

“Darcy is insensitive, but they’re right,” Tara told him. “Have you thought about talking to him about it? Tell him how you feel and see if that changes anything for him? If you really are as good as you say, maybe he’ll want it to carry on after you leave. You could make the distance work. Me and Darce did it while I was at uni and we worked out, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But I can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he told me very clearly at the start that he couldn’t give me more than this. He was upfront and I agreed. I can’t ambush him now because I was stupid enough to get attached. Besides, wasn’t that the whole fucking problem with Rowan?”

“Urgh, Rowan. That boring little –”

“Darcy,” Nick warned. “Look, I clung onto something with Ro that was already dead and I made everything worse for everyone involved. I can’t do that to Charlie as well. Not when I – not when he’s so – ”

“Oh, shit,” Tara murmured. “So you really like him.”

Nick worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah. It’s – it’s bad, actually. I can see us being something real. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever felt…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not letting my selfish feelings fuck up his summer, too.”

They all sat with that for a moment, until Tara asked quietly, “Do you want my honest advice?”

“Of course.”

“Right. Well, I think you should tell him how you feel. And don’t give me that face, I heard what you said. But maybe there are worse things to be than a little bit clingy. And Charlie – you mentioned that he told you at the beginning that he couldn’t do more than casual. That was, what, a month ago? Maybe things have changed for him, too.”

“He’s said other things since then, though. I really believe him when he says that he doesn’t want the pressure of more when he can get what he needs from these kinds of things. I have a lot of respect for him for knowing what he wants.”

“And that’s great for him, Nick, but what he wants isn’t what you want.”

Nick groaned and tipped forward, burying his head in his hands. “Yeah.”

“So if you really don’t think you can tell him how you feel, maybe it’s time to… to let it go? Maybe you need to protect yourself for the time you have left there. Instead of only protecting him from how you feel, maybe think about you?”

“I don’t know if I can,” Nick croaked. “I – he’s right here and I don’t want to waste that. I don’t know if I can just… stop this.”

“Baby,” Tara cooed. “I wish I could hug you.”

“Me too,” Darcy added. “We love you. And we’ll be ready with the biggest squeezes when you get back to London, yeah?”

Nick smiled back at them through his phone and reminded himself, once again, how lucky he was to have his best friends.

Evenings, as always, were spent with Charlie. He had been reading less books over the last week, instead spending a lot of time frowning at his laptop. Nick didn’t ask what he was doing, trying to keep the last few bricks of wall between them standing so as not to fall any harder. He kept his mouth shut and let Charlie get on with it until the night that Charlie brought it up himself.

“Hey, Nick?”

“Hmm?” Nick asked non-committedly, still focusing on the book in front of him.

Charlie poked his toe into Nick’s thigh. “What would you think of... No, never mind, it’s probably stupid.”

Nick frowned and gave Charlie his full attention. “I bet it’s not. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve just been thinking about, like, what I want to do?”

“Do? Char, it’s nearly midnight.”

“Not now, you twat.” Charlie rolled his eyes and slid his feet under Nick’s thighs. He pulled his – Nick’s – hoodie sleeves down over his hands and focused intently on them. “I mean, like. With my life.”

“Oh!” Nick said, closing his book and shifting so he could look at Charlie properly. “Yeah?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. I had, like, a super quick thought that probably makes no sense. I just – I see the way you talk about the kids at school and how much you care about them and it reminded me of a teacher I had in high school. He made such a difference in my life. Like, I don’t even know if I would be here without him.”

Nick wrapped a hand around Charlie’s ankle, stroking his thumb along the bone. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story. Boring, probably.”

“I’d still want to hear it.”

Charlie considered him for a moment and then shook his head. “Not today. But teachers like that, like you, are so important, right? And it makes me want to do something important, too. My mum used to make me help out at Olly’s school holiday club to keep me out of the way in the summer and there was this one kid who... she just really needed someone. I think I helped her a lot and I felt like I’d finally achieved something for the first time in my life. Something that mattered.”

“Everything you do matters, Char.”

“Fuck off.” Charlie kicked Nick’s thigh again. “Don’t be nice to me when I’m trying to say something, I’ll get distracted.”

Nick snorted. “Right, of course. Sorry, you dickhead. Carry on.”

“That’s better. So, I had this thought a long time ago, at the very beginning of… of Ben. I’d thought about doing a course to become a... it’s called an Education Mental Health Practitioner,” Charlie relayed carefully, like he’d only recently memorised the words. “Like, working with kids who have mental health issues and helping schools and colleges support them better. I mean, I’d probably be shit at it. Like, I’m not exactly a beacon of strength and healthy coping mechanisms or whatever, so it probably won’t go anywhere. I just – “

“Charlie!” Nick interrupted. When Charlie glanced up at him, he looked shy and vulnerable and like he was ready for Nick to laugh in his face. Nick smiled softly and nodded. “I know the job, I’ve had EMHP’s come into my schools before. I think you’d be incredible at it, actually.”

“Oh. You do?”

“Yes, absolutely! You’ve been through so much and you’ve come out of it as this amazing, strong, powerful human. Even if you don’t see that, everyone else does. You would be the perfect person to help kids who have been through something similar.”

“You don’t think I’d just fall apart the second I tried to help someone? That I’d be terrible at it?”

“Char. I’ve seen terrible teachers. I have seen so many people who shouldn’t be allowed to shape children’s minds. I know what they look like and it’s not you. I honestly, genuinely, from the bottom of my heart think that you should look into those qualifications. I saw the way your eyes lit up just then. You’re excited about this.”

Charlie looked down, but Nick could still see his pleased blush. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. As I say, I thought about it before, when I was still in Durham. I didn’t ever think I’d feel… ready for it, I guess? But these last few weeks, the way I’ve been thinking about it has felt different. Like it’s something I could actually do, you know? I didn’t ever want to go back to university after what I went through before, but I’ve been looking at what I’d need to do and I wouldn’t have to go to, like, proper uni. I could do a twelve month course rather than an actual degree.”

“So when you said you’d had a quick thought, you really meant that you’ve spent days looking into the intricacies of this, right?”

“Shut up,” Charlie quipped. “Maybe. Yes, fine, I’ve done very little else but think about it.”

Nick stared back at Charlie with a sappy smile. He wanted to say something ridiculous like I’m so proud of you, or I can’t wait to watch you change lives. But he couldn’t do that, he shouldn’t do that, so he just squeezed Charlie’s leg again. That would have to do.

On Charlie’s next day off, they drove a little further than they had before. He directed Nick to a fishing village called Mevagissey which was about an hour and a half away. Nick had spent most of the journey with a hand on Charlie’s thigh as he drove, happily listening to all the new bands Charlie played him as they made their way through the countryside. They parked a little way up a hill leading into the town and walked down slowly, taking in the view.

“It’s named after two Saints,” Charlie told him as they walked. “St. Meva and St. Issey. Fuck knows where they got the ‘G’ from, though. See across there, all those houses?”

Nick stopped to have a proper look, his fingers reaching for the camera around his neck. It was gorgeous. The tall houses ran up a hill on the other side of the cove, all painted in brilliant blues and yellows and reds. They looked down over the harbour, where Nick could see fishermen unloading their catches and heading off out again. He took far too many pictures of it before turning his lens on Charlie as he watched the view himself, grinning when Charlie noticed and stuck his middle finger up at the camera.

When they made it down into the village, Nick sat on a bench outside a café overlooking the harbour while Charlie went in to get them pasties and coffees. Nick had become addicted to the traditional Cornish pasties, insisting he tried one everywhere they went until he found the best one. Charlie humoured him, teasing him but also listening carefully as Nick fed back his notes on which needed more filling or which needed longer to crisp up around the edges.

Charlie took him through all the winding streets afterwards, pointing out important buildings to the town’s history and indulging him by coming into all the tourist trap gift shops with him. He could see why Charlie loved it here so much and Nick couldn’t help but wish they had come sooner.

After they had walked nearly the whole of Mevagissey, they hopped back in the car to drive 15 minutes back along the coast to a beach Charlie called Little Perhaver.

“Little? That suggests the existence of a Big Perhaver.”

“Great Perhaver, actually,” Charlie corrected him, nudging their shoulders together as they left the car with bags full of towels and blankets and clothes weighing down their arms. “So, this is actually my favourite part of Cornwall,” Charlie admitted as they slowly ambled across the sand. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to bring you here or not.”

“What made you?” Nick asked.

Charlie shrugged, avoiding the question. “My mum and dad used to bring us here when we were kids, you know. We came a handful of times while we were growing up.”

Nick didn’t dare say anything as they continued their walk along the shoreline. Charlie hadn’t offered any real information about his parents before and Nick didn’t want him to stop talking now.

“I remember coming when Olly was a baby and he just screamed the whole week. Like, blood-curdling, house-shaking screams. Me and Tori barely slept because of it and then mum and dad had three grumpy and exhausted children to deal with. It was a pretty shit holiday.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“We stayed about a ten-minute walk from here and one morning when Olly was particularly bad, me and Tori snuck out and came here. We must’ve only been about nine and ten at the time, so it was pretty stupid of us. I was getting hysterical myself, I couldn’t calm down with all the noise. Tori wrapped us up in coats and wellies and brought me down here. I remember feeling so… calm, sitting on the beach with my big sister,” Charlie smiled at the memory and then glanced sideways to give Nick a wry look. “How do you think our parents reacted?”

“Badly, I’d imagine,” Nick huffed a laugh.

“Hmm, you’d think. Kids go missing on holiday, you expect frantic phone calls and screaming, the whole works, right? Well. They didn’t even notice.”

“Wait, what?”

“Mhmm. Turns out dad took Olly out for a drive to try and calm him down and mum went to lie down. We came back an hour later and when she saw us coming through the door, she just started yelling. How dare we run off, how dare we leave the house on our own. As if she had even known before she saw us get back. As if she’d even cared.”

“Char,” Nick breathed.

“But this beach,” Charlie continued, ignoring Nick’s sad expression. “This place always reminds me of Tori and how she has always been there for me.”

“You’re really lucky to have each other. I’m - I’m grateful that you have each other.”

Charlie smiled, swaying into Nick’s side before pulling back again. “She’s still a pain in my arse, though.”

“You love her,” Nick replied, nudging Charlie back.

They stayed quiet after that, enjoying the rare warm sunshine beating down on their backs. By the time they got to the end of the beach, sheltered from the breeze by the cliffs, Nick was sweating.

“Swim time,” he announced, dumping his bags on top of one of the large rocks scattered underneath the cliffs and stripping his t-shirt right off.

Charlie glared at him, placing his own bag delicately next to Nick’s. “You’re such a twat.”

“Um, excuse me? What have I done?”

With a vague gesture at Nick’s naked torso, Charlie grumbled, “Give a guy some warning.”

“Oh, I see.” Nick smirked, taking a step closer to Charlie and wrapping an arm around his waist. “You don’t think I’m a twat. You think I’m hot.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nope, don’t think I will, actually,” he said, grabbing Charlie’s face between his hands and bringing it to his chest.

“Oh my god, stop it,” Charlie screeched as Nick’s disgustingly sweaty chest met his cheek. “You giant oaf.”

Nick released him with a laugh and turned towards his bags to fish out his sun cream. He held the bottle out to Charlie with an innocent look on his face. “A hand?”

Once they were both covered in sun cream, they walked towards where the sea met the sand with Nick’s towel and camera shoved into a tote bag. Nick ran into the water, which he had learned was the only way to get through the sharp sting of the cold. After the initial shock of it, Nick loved being in the sea. He loved the feeling of the sand beneath his toes, loved bobbing up and down and letting the waves move his body however they wanted.

He turned to look out at Charlie, who was sitting nearby in the sand and watching him as he often did when Nick swam. Nick raised his hand in a wave and Charlie, predictably, rolled his eyes in response.

With a fond laugh, Nick turned and dove into the water fully. He knew Charlie was happy on the beach; he had refused to join Nick for a swim so many times that Nick had stopped asking for fear of being too annoying. Sometimes Charlie would sit and read his book, sometimes he would scroll through his phone, sometimes he would just watch Nick in the water. Nick felt a weird sense of pride when that was his chosen activity; the fact that Charlie wanted to sit and look at him sent butterflies swarming through his body every time.

And it was that – those times when Charlie simply sat and looked at him – that made Nick sure that Charlie must feel something too. He made no secret of the fact that he found Nick physically attractive, but surely physical attraction alone wasn’t enough to make him want to watch Nick for hours on end? There had to be a part of Charlie that cared for Nick in the way Nick cared for him. The fondness in his eyes and the warm smile on his face had to mean something.

Nick splashed his face again, trying to wash the thoughts from his mind. There was no point dwelling on what was or wasn’t going on in Charlie’s mind. All Nick could do now was make the most of what they did have, while they still had time.

He swam through the gentle waves for a while, tipping his wet face up to the sky and enjoying feeling the sun on him. It hadn’t come out all that much during his stay but when it did, it came in full force and it was glorious.

When he started to get bored of floating around on his own, Nick turned towards the shore to make his way back to Charlie. He stopped short, however, when he was met with Charlie far closer to him than he expected.

He was in the water. Charlie had stripped off his t-shirt and was wading into the sea in just his shorts, his face scrunched up in concentration as the icy cool water hit his body.

Nick thought for one stupid moment that he might burst into tears. Charlie had sworn that Nick would never get him in the sea and yet here he was, squeaking as the water splashed over his belly and holding his hand out towards Nick. Nick laughed, a little overwhelmed by his joy, and took Charlie’s hand to pull him right into his body.

“You’re here,” he exhaled, wrapping both of his arms around Charlie’s waist and holding him in close.

“Yes, well,” Charlie said primly, hooking his fingers around Nick’s chain and looking at that instead of at Nick. It was something he did often, Nick had noticed. Like it was a comfort for him or something. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I? I thought that –”

Charlie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Nick was already kissing him. He couldn’t figure out why Charlie being out here made him so emotional, but he put it all into the kiss anyway. As Charlie opened up to him, Nick tried to pour everything he had been feeling into the way their mouths moved together.

I can’t believe I get to see you like this. You’ve changed me irreversibly. I won’t ever forget you. You’re so beautiful I could cry. This summer has been so special to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I lov -

“Nick,” Charlie giggled as he pulled away. “I’m going to drown if you keep kissing me like that.”

“Yeah, okay. Save it for later.” Nick winked at him and then untangled their limbs, taking a few steps backwards. “Wait here.”

“Nick! Don’t leave me out here alone, you fucker!” Charlie squawked, trying to grab his wrist as Nick pushed himself back towards the shore.

“Just stay still,” Nick soothed. “I’ll be back in two seconds, I promise. Stay here.”

He waded to the shore, chuckling at the swear words Charlie threw after him. He dried his hands quickly on his towel and then rummaged in his bag for his Canon. He knew he needed to capture this moment, knew that he wanted to remember this feeling for as long as he lived.

He was extra careful on his way back into the water, holding the camera up above his head to avoid it getting splashed.

“Fuck’s sake, Photo Boy,” Charlie groaned when he realised why Nick had gone back to the sand. “So being in the water isn’t enough for you, now I have to pose as well?”

“Yup.” Nick beamed as he reached Charlie again, bringing the camera down to eye level. “Smile, bitch.”

He expected the middle finger he got for that, but he didn’t expect Charlie to give in quite so easily afterwards. He turned in the water, letting his fingertips skim the surface so prettily as Nick snapped picture after picture.

Charlie, grinning as he splashed Nick. Charlie, face turned towards the lowering sun and his tanned skin glistening in the light. Charlie, eyes closed and pouring sea water over his head from cupped hands. Charlie, letting a wave push him towards the shore. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

When he decided he had enough pictures – though was there actually such a thing as enough pictures of Charlie? – Nick took the camera back to his bag. Charlie followed him into the shallow waters but Nick was having none of that, jogging back towards him and dragging Charlie back into the waves. Charlie grumbled at him about turning into a prune, but it didn’t take much convincing for him to wrap his legs around Nick’s waist under the water and his arms around Nick’s neck. Nick held them both up, feeling ridiculously giddy as they kissed and kissed and kissed until they started to shake with the cold.

They ran back up to their bags and dressed quickly, Charlie immediately swiping Nick’s hoodie and telling him that his punishment for making Charlie swim was having to freeze for the rest of the evening. Nick soothed him with a kiss and volunteered to head back to the village to get them some fish and chips to warm them up.

When he got back, Charlie had laid their towels and wet clothes on one rock and had made a comfy little set up on another, with spare clothes and blankets cushioning the surface for them. The sun was really starting to set now, casting pinks and oranges across the sky, and they ate their fish and chips as they watched it disappear behind the horizon. Charlie leant his head on Nick’s shoulder. He had stolen one of Nick’s caps too and they both laughed as their hats knocked against each other as they got comfy.

Nick rested his head on top of Charlie’s and tried not to think about the ticking clock, the passing days. The thought of not having this every day, not having Charlie’s arm linked through his or Charlie’s head on his shoulder, of not being able to lean over and kiss him whenever he felt like it, was becoming more painful by the minute.

He thought of Tara’s advice. He wanted to say something. He wanted to ask if Charlie would be willing to keep him even after he left Cornwall, or if this would be it and they would never talk again. Nick wanted to know. He had tried to psych himself up to it all day but he always came back to the same thought – that it was unfair to put Charlie in a position he didn’t want to be in.

Charlie seemed to be thinking about the same things, though. He slid his hand down Nick’s arm and linked their fingers together as he watched the ocean. Nick squeezed his hand and braced himself.

“One week left then,” Charlie said. His voice was almost completely flat, as if he had no opinion about the fact that Nick would be leaving so soon.

Nick felt anything but calm about it. The idea of leaving Praa Sands, leaving Charlie, ached in a way that Nick wasn’t sure he would ever be able to push through. The dread of not having Charlie by his side every day, in his bed every night, was overwhelming.

“One week left,” Nick repeated.

“Are you excited to go home?”

No, Nick thought. I don’t want to go back to real life. I want to stay here in our little bubble forever. Just you, me and the beach.

“I suppose,” he answered instead. “I’m looking forward to hugging my mum and meeting Henry and seeing my friends.”

Charlie hummed in response, both hands now playing with Nick’s fingers that were joined with his.

“Bet you’re looking forward to getting all your free time back,” Nick tried to joke. The tension growing between them was starting to feel suffocating and Nick really didn’t want to end their perfect day on a sad note.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had this tourist cling-on for five fucking weeks. Get me my freedom,” Charlie joked back. His voice was still flat as anything though, so it mostly just came out sad.

“Charlie,” Nick started. He took a steadying breath. “Char, I –”

“We should head back,” Charlie said abruptly, pulling his hands free and standing up. “It’s getting late and I’m freezing my balls off.”

Nick watched him for a moment, knowing he had a desperate and pathetic look on his face. Charlie looked away from him and started gathering their stuff into their bags instead.

Shit.

The drive back to Praa Sands was quiet, the air thick with words unsaid. Nick hated driving in the dark at the best of times and that moment didn’t exactly feel like the best of times. As they approached their little village, Charlie quietly asked if Nick would drop him back at Tori and Michael’s house rather than him coming back to Nick’s flat.

“Oh.” Nick breathed. “Yeah, I mean, sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Charlie smiled very unconvincingly. “I feel disgusting from the sea and I want to have a bath and get in my own bed. And I’m opening Sundance tomorrow so probably better if I get a good night’s sleep. But I’ll see you after work as planned, yeah?”

Nick didn’t trust his voice not to break so he simply nodded in response. He pulled up beside Tori and Michael’s house – a house that he had, in fact, never been invited into. And didn’t that just say it all?

Charlie didn’t move to get out of the car. He sat still in the passenger seat, looking down at his hands as he picked at his thumbnail.

“You okay?” Nick whispered into the dark, scared to say anything that might lead to Charlie pulling even further away. “I mean. Like. Are we okay?”

“Of course,” Charlie answered, sounding entirely unconvinced by his own words. “Sorry. I’m – I’m really tired and I don’t –”

When Charlie stopped and shook his head, Nick took pity on him. “It’s fine, Charlie. Go get some sleep.”

Charlie finally looked up at Nick. Nick could see even in the dim light that his eyes were damp in the corners. “Nick, I –”

He cut himself off, instead reaching out to take Nick’s face in his hands and pulling him towards him. Charlie kissed him then like he never had before, deep and long but with no intent other than just to kiss him. He cradled Nick’s jaw and stroked soft thumbs across sharp cheekbones, holding Nick close and kissing him breathless.

When he pulled away moments – hours, days, years – later, Charlie opened his door and got out of the car. He grabbed his bags from the backseat and walked quickly towards his front door, not once turning back to look at Nick.

Nick watched him go, staring at the front door long after it closed. He couldn’t bring himself to drive away, not yet, because that kiss – that wasn’t fucking casual. That wasn’t nothing. That kiss meant something to Charlie, it had to, and Nick was going to find out exactly what.

Maybe Tara was right. Maybe Nick did just need to lay it all out on the table and let Charlie know exactly how he felt about him, about them. Maybe it was time to stop being a fucking coward.

Maybe there were, in fact, worse things to be than a little bit clingy. 

Chapter Text

You make excusеs and maybe they're true
I guess there's no way of knowing with you

Paint me a picture, speak through the lens
'Cause I'm seeing something that looks like the end
Maybe I'm wrong and it's all in my head
Just give me one thing to hold on instead

🌊🌊🌊

When Charlie showed up after work the following day, he was acting a little too cheerful for Nick to believe he was being genuine. They curled up on the sofa as normal to binge watch a show they'd started together, Charlie leaning against Nick with Nick’s hand on his thigh, but Nick could feel the undercurrent of tension between them. It wasn’t effortless like it had been the day before. Nick still held on tight though, trying to will things back on track between them.

Things felt slightly more normal when Nick drove them towards Marazion on Tuesday morning. There was something still simmering under the surface, had been ever since they got back from Mevagissey, but they had both refused to acknowledge it so far. They were on their way to St. Michael’s Mount, something Nick had been excited to do ever since he arrived in Cornwall. It was a tidal island that was home to an ancient castle perched on top of the rocky hill, with sloping gardens winding their way upwards. You had to walk across a causeway to get to it which was covered by the sea in high tide, in which case you could get a boat back. Nick had seen so many pictures of it and hyped it up so much in his head, buzzing to see the subtropical gardens and the bright flowers littering the hill.

What he got was slightly different. It was another drizzly day with no sunshine creeping through the clouds, so it all just looked dull and boring. He wished he had come here on one of the sunny days over the summer, but it was something he had wanted to do with Charlie so he’d held off. It was a steep walk up the hill, made only harder by the rain-soaked path under foot. Nick was starting to feel very grumpy about the situation – the gardens were unexpectedly closed for maintenance so they had to take the boring route up, he couldn’t see anything of a view and he was sweating buckets in his stupid plastic raincoat. Charlie wasn’t fairing much better, grumbling about how his converse had no grip and how his hair was frizzing up in the rain.

Nick should have seen it coming, really. Between the building unease, the shitty weather and both of their moods, he definitely should have seen it coming.

They were at the top of the walk, admiring the castle that stood proudly on the rocks, when Nick said Stupid Thing Number One.

Charlie was complaining about the website not telling them about the garden being closed when they had booked their tickets and grumbled, “Have they never heard of communication?”

And Nick, in all his frustration and idiocy, responded, “Have you?”

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him with a carefully blank expression. “Excuse me?”

“Fuck, nothing. Sorry. I just – that was stupid. Ignore me.”

“If you have something you want to say, Nick, then by all means go ahead.”

Nick perhaps should’ve lowered his defences then and there, taken Charlie over to the bench away from the hordes of tourists surrounding them and had an open, honest, calm conversation. Instead, he said Stupid Thing Number Two.

“It’s nothing.”

Charlie had narrowed his eyes at him for a moment and then sighed and turned away, walking up the uneven path towards the castle entrance. Nick hung his head, took a deep breath and followed him.

They made it through a few rooms of the castle, admiring the art on the walls and reading the informational plaques. Nick didn’t take anything in; he had been so excited to come here, but now he was here he couldn’t give two shits about any of it. He only wanted to hear the history of a place if it was Charlie telling him, and Charlie didn’t seem to be interested in talking to him at all.

Which was entirely fair enough, actually.

By the time they got to the old grand dining room, Nick felt like he was on a knife’s edge. Charlie hadn’t even looked at him since they were outside and Nick had followed him through each room like a kicked puppy trying to appease its owner. He was starting to feel claustrophobic in the crowded room, people milling about everywhere and talking over each other and pushing past him to get the next exhibit. Looking ahead, he could see two doorways leading to narrow hallways but no obvious way out into the daylight yet.

Nick desperately needed some air.

He was about to tell Charlie as much when the man himself swung around and set dark, angry eyes on him. “What did you mean by that?”

Nick blinked back at him. “What?”

“What did you mean outside? When you asked if I have ever heard of communication?”

Okay, so they were doing this.

“You know what I meant, Charlie,” Nick said, his voice coming out defeated.

“Well, that’s a little bit hypocritical, don’t you think? Considering you’re leaving in three days and you haven’t said a fucking word about it.”

Nick gaped at him. “Me? I’ve tried! I – I did try, in Mevagissey. And you -”

“Oh, spare me.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “One feeble attempt isn’t any better than me not saying anything.”

“It’s no fucking worse though, is it?” Nick snapped.

“And you thought that berating me for that on the top of a fucking castle was the way to bring it up, did you?”

Nick flushed, feeling properly chastised because Charlie was right; it was possibly the worst time and place imaginable for this conversation.

“No! No, I – I didn’t even mean to say it. The weather is fucking shitty and things have been so weird the last few days and it just slipped out. I didn’t mean to imply that it was your responsibility to start that conversation. I know it’s not.”

“Oh, good. You’re not completely thick then,” Charlie spat.

Nick recoiled. “Charlie, that’s not fair.”

“No,” Charlie hissed, taking a step towards him with fire in his eyes. “What’s not fair is you sniping at me about communication when I’m the one who was very clear about what this was. I told you, Nick. I warned you not to get attached. You can’t come whining to me now about communication when I was honest with you from the start.”

Nick glanced around, his cheeks heating as he saw how many people had started to notice their altercation. Kids were watching them with wide eyes while parents tried to hurry them along. There were two teenagers in the corner of the room snickering to each other as they observed. They may as well have had a bowl of fucking popcorn, Nick thought.

“Fuck. Can we – can we go outside, please?”

Charlie was still glaring at him, but he relented and turned to lead the way. They dodged people in various tiny corridors and pushed through a tour group in the church to get out, where the rain was now hammering down against the stone courtyard.

Nick didn’t care. He didn’t put his hood up or even get his cap out of his jacket pocket. He walked out into the rain and let himself get soaked.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he started. “I honestly didn’t mean to have a go at you. I wanted to talk to you properly about what happens when I leave, but –”

“What happens when you leave, Nick,” Charlie interrupted, his arms wrapped tightly around his own torso, “is that we go back to real life. You go back to London and I stay here in this stupid little place that doesn’t even feel real. I waste away in a café that my sister owns, and we carry on as though none of this ever happened.”

Nick felt his heart crack in his chest. He tried to take a step closer to Charlie but stopped when he backed away. “We don’t have to, though. It doesn’t have to end like that.”

“It does. It fucking does because that’s real life. Holiday romances happen all the time and then they end and life moves on.”

“But we could make it work. We could–”

“There’s no point!” Charlie cried. “What don’t you understand about this, Nick? People like you don’t just – we can’t just – fuck, Nick. Why did you have to do this now?”

Nick wanted to scream at him that this wasn’t fair. Charlie should be giving him a chance – a chance to explain, a chance to be something real, a chance to love Charlie the way he deserved. But Charlie didn’t want that, did he? He didn’t want Nick.

“Well maybe we should just stop then. What’s the point in dragging this out for three more days? Let’s end it all right now, a clean break.”

Stupid Thing Number Seven Billion and Three.

Charlie stared at him, his chest heaving. He looked distraught, exhausted, but his voice was hard when he agreed. “Best idea you’ve had all day. It was fun while it lasted, I guess.”

And then Charlie Spring turned around and walked away, leaving Nick on the top of a fucking hill on a fucking island in the middle of the fucking ocean.

Fuck.

There was no sign of Charlie when Nick got back across to Marazion. He had half expected him to be waiting by the car for a lift home but that was wishful thinking. Nick had been holding himself together very carefully and he gripped the steering wheel extra tightly the whole drive home as if that would keep him from breaking.

The flat felt empty when he got back. It wasn’t as if Nick had never been there without Charlie before, but this was different. This time, Charlie wasn’t coming back.

Nick looked around the space he had called home for the last six weeks. His stuff was still everywhere – he hadn’t even started to pack yet – but worse than that, Charlie’s stuff was still everywhere. His books were on the shelf and his iPad was on the coffee table and one of his Sundance hoodies was on the sofa. The bread he liked was on the kitchen counter and his special curl shampoo was in the bathroom and Nick knew there were more of Charlie’s clothes in his wardrobe than there were in his own room at Tori and Michael’s.

With a carefully blank mind, Nick grabbed a couple of the large Bag for Life’s from the utility cupboard and started gathering all of Charlie’s things into it. He folded jumpers and piled books and tried not to think of a single thing while he did it. When he was done and a mere two bags held the story of Nick’s summer, he placed them by the front door and walked towards his bedroom.

Then he collapsed onto the bed, let his brain catch up, and cried and cried and cried.

Nick moped for a whole day. After he’d packed Charlie’s things, he had got into bed and hadn’t gotten back out since. He knew he had to pack his own stuff away – it was Wednesday, and he had to leave first thing on Friday morning – but he couldn’t quite bring himself to start. He had so much to do; say goodbye to the friends he’d made, ask Michael to collect Charlie’s belongings for him, take one last trip to his beloved St. Ives. Yet here he was, buried under his covers while he grieved something he always knew he couldn’t have anyway.

When there was a knock on his front door that evening, Nick sat up so fast his head spun. No one had ever come here before except Charlie and so it had to be him. One last chance to talk, to apologise. One last chance to salvage something.

Except when Nick half ran to the door with a blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and yanked it open, it was a different unimpressed face that greeted him.

“Nicholas,” Imogen sighed. “You look disgusting.”

“Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, I do.”

She smiled sadly at him and then stepped forward to pat him once on the cheek. Then, without waiting to see if he even wanted the company, she pushed past him and made her way to the living area.

“Imogen. Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here? I’m a bit busy.”

“Hmm. Busy wallowing, I see.”

Nick cringed as he followed her into the kitchen. She hopped up onto one of the stools at the island and looked at him expectantly.

“Are you going to offer me a drink then?”

They agreed that something stronger than tea was needed so Nick poured them both a glass of red wine and sat opposite Imogen at the kitchen island. It was weird having someone else here in a space that so far had only been his and Charlie’s, but he didn’t hate it. He and Imogen had lunch or coffee together in Sundance semi-regularly and he liked her a lot – she was warm and kind but sassy in a way that kept Nick on his toes. It was nice to have her here and he regretted not inviting her over sooner.

“So,” she started, holding his eye across the table. “Is there a reason why Charlie was grumpy as fuck at work today, and is it the same reason you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards?”

“Charming,” Nick huffed. “Wait. Charlie was grumpy at work?”

Imogen snorted a laugh. “Grumpy is maybe an understatement. I don’t think I saw him say a word to a single customer, though I did definitely hear him snap at Tori in the kitchen.”

“Shit.” Nick groaned, tipping forward and dropping his head onto the wooden surface beneath him. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Oh, you poor sod,” Imogen chuckled. “I figured Charlie would be getting enough shit from his sister so I might as well come and give it to you instead.”

“Great. Thanks,” he drawled as he sat back up.

“What happened, Nick? I only saw you two yesterday getting ready to go to Marazion. You can’t have fucked things up that badly in twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, I definitely can. And I did.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. What happened?”

And so Nick told her everything – how he felt for Charlie, how Charlie didn’t want a relationship, how he had made the mistake of letting it build up and how that led to them exploding in the middle of a tourist trap.

“I was really hoping to avoid the whole fucking village finding out,” he finished. “Like, I get to walk away in two days but Charlie is going to be left here to deal with all the questions and nosiness. I kind of hoped we could’ve just kept the whole thing a secret but I guess that ship sailed after the beach party.”

“Nick,” Imogen said flatly. “The whole town has known for weeks, long before you started necking in public.”

“Oh my god, necking?”

“Places like this will always gossip, unfortunately. But you don’t need to worry about Charlie. He’s one of us. We’ll look after him.”

“Promise me,” Nick begged. “Make sure you check in on him. I don’t – I never meant to fuck his life up like I did.”

“If either of you think you fucked that boy’s life up, Nicholas, then you’re both more stupid than you look.”

“Imogen.”

“No, I mean it! Don’t give me that kicked puppy look, babe, it doesn’t work on me,” Imogen said. “I’ve only known Charlie for a couple of years, but he’s changed a lot in that time. He barely spoke a word to anyone for the first few months he was here. He was like a shell of someone. I remember asking Tori about him and she just got so – God, Nick, she was terrified. Charlie wasn’t in a good way then and Tori was so worried about him. After a while he started working in Sundance and I could see him slowly, like, waking up? It was as if he’d been in a trance when he got here and then we could all see him coming out of it. We watched him start to brighten up and then start to make friends and build a life.”

Nick hated the image he had in his head of a sleep-walking Charlie. Charlie had shared some of how he felt back then but Nick hadn’t realised how bad it was until he heard it from someone else’s perspective.

“I don’t want to say too much,” Imogen continued. “It’s his life, not mine. I just want you to know that this place healed him. The time he had and the work he did changed his perspective. But I didn’t see him smile like he is now until you got here.”

“Immy, don’t.” Nick looked down and closed his eyes as if that would make the whole thing stop fucking hurting.

“I’m not trying to upset you, Nick, but I cannot let you leave this place thinking you ruined that man’s life. Charlie got himself out of such a bad spot and I have so much admiration for him for all of that. But Nick, when I tell you that his face lights up when you’re around… it’s a beautiful thing.”

“But it’s not enough, is it? Not when we both have lives that are so far apart. You can’t just – you can’t throw away your entire life for a summer fling, you know?”

The words hurt to say. To cheapen what he and Charlie had to a summer fling felt blasphemous. They were true, though. What was one summer in their 30 years on Earth, in the rest of their years to come?

“God, you’re as stubborn as each other. I want to bang your silly little heads together. You have to talk to him before you go, Nick. Even if you don’t decide to keep seeing each other, you can’t leave it like this.”

She was right, of course. If Nick left Praa Sands on an argument with Charlie he might never forgive himself. He didn’t want to put Charlie in a position he didn’t want to be in, though. If Charlie didn’t want to see him again then Nick didn’t want to force it.

“I’ll ask him if he'd be willing to meet,” he told her, reaching across the island to squeeze her hand. “Promise.”

Nick started to pack up some of his stuff after Imogen left. He felt sadder than he expected saying goodbye to her and it made him dread the rest of the farewells he had to do over the next twenty-four hours.

As much as he would miss it here though, Nick really was starting to look forward to going back to London. He missed his friends and he missed being able to get lost in a crowd. He was excited about starting at his new school, as well as being absolutely terrified of it turning out badly again. He missed being a short train journey away from his mum and he missed seeing more than five people in a day. He missed hopping on a bus and not winding along 500 country roads to get five miles away or being able to nip to the shops for literally anything he might need rather than having to plan a road trip in order to get a decent takeaway. Praa Sands had been exactly what he needed and he had loved his time there, nearly every second of it, but it wasn’t real life. It wasn’t his life.

He only wished he could take Charlie back to his life with him.

On Thursday, Nick pulled himself out of bed with Imogen’s voice in his head and made his way down to Sundance. It wasn’t just Charlie that he would miss about Praa Sands and he needed to say some proper goodbyes.

After a long, tearful hug with Mrs Hewitt when he first arrived, she sat him down beside her and linked their arms together.

“Oh, you lovely boy,” she fussed. “It’s been such a joy to get to know you. Seeing how you’ve opened up and started to smile again. I still remember that very first day you walked into Sundance.”

Nick groaned. “Oh, god, don’t.”

Mrs Hewitt cupped his cheek. “Crying over our Poppy and fumbling through that painful first conversation with Charlie. You were a proper mess, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Nick laughed, flushing. “Stop.”

“You’ve changed a lot, you know. It may not feel like it now with everything that’s happening, but you’re in a much better place than you were in when you arrived.”

“Yeah, I am,” Nick nodded. He knew that, he felt that in his bones, no matter how much his heart hurt over Charlie. “Partly thanks to you and Poppy, you know. It’s been so wonderful getting to know you both.”

“Don’t you be talking like we’ll never see each other again, Nicholas Nelson,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “You’ll come back and visit me, I know you will.”

Nick wanted to agree. He desperately wanted to see her and Praa Sands again, but he knew he couldn’t come back. This was Charlie’s place, not Nick’s.

“We’ll see.”

“You will. You and Charlie will figure this out. I promise it won’t always hurt this much.”

Nick wished he could believe her.

When Michael walked through the door shortly after, Nick wanted to hide. He wasn’t sure how much Charlie would have told his family about what had happened on Tuesday. While he knew Charlie wasn’t the type to drag somebody through the mud needlessly, Nick also knew that he had fucked up. He wouldn’t blame Charlie if he’d bitched to his sister and her partner about him.

Michael, however, came bounding over when he spotted Nick sitting with Mrs Hewitt.

“Hello, Purely Platonic Nick!” he grinned. Nick winced slightly at the nickname. “Last day, eh? Bet you’re excited to get back to the big city.”

“Hey Michael. I wanted to come and say goodbye.”

“Well, I refuse. I’ll see you again, I’m sure of it. Coffee is on the house today. Make sure to pop your head in to say cheerio to Tori before you head out, okay?” Michael said, skipping away and disappearing into the kitchen before Nick could respond.

Nick turned wide eyes on Mrs Hewitt. “I have to talk to Tori? She might murder me! Like, actual knife-in-my-chest murder.”

Mrs Hewitt chuckled and patted his arm. “Oh, Nick. She’s really not the murdering type, you know.”

Nick doubted that. He was pretty sure she would make an exception for someone who hurt her brother.

“Go and say bye to Tori, you silly boy. Think of it as practice for when you have to talk to Charlie later.”

Nick whined and dropped his head on her shoulder, pouting when she laughed at him and shoved him away.

After a few more hugs with people that he had grown fond of over the last six weeks, Nick took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen. He knew he looked a bit ridiculous, walking so slowly that he might as well have been still.

It wasn’t that he was scared of Tori, of course he wasn’t. He was a little intimidated, maybe. Just the tiniest bit.

When he popped his head around the swinging door, he was greeted with the usual bustle of energy that was the Sundance kitchen. Tori was in the middle of it all, chopping vegetables at lighting speed with a fancy knife.

A very sharp looking fancy knife. Fuck.

“You know Charlie isn’t working today, don’t you?” she asked, bringing Nick back out of his murder victim spiral. Her expression gave nothing away about how she felt to see him.

“Um, yes,” he nodded. He did know that, actually. He knew that because Charlie had asked for the day off to help Nick pack and spend the day with him.

Look how well that had worked out.

“Um. I wanted to say goodbye. I leave in the morning.”

“I’m aware,” Tori retorted.

“Okay, well. I also wanted to thank you for letting me hang around here so much. I – I’ve really appreciated having a comfortable space and being able to get to know people in your bar. It's a really great place, Tori. So, thank you.”

Tori dropped her knife with a sigh and wiped her hands on her apron. She tilted her head towards the staff room at the back wall and walked towards it, waiting at the door for Nick to catch up.

Oh, God. She really was going to murder him.

He had been back here before while waiting for Charlie to change after shifts, but he'd never been alone with Tori in such a small space. She leant back against the table and crossed her arms, looking at him with an intensity that he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to.

“Charlie,” she started, a distinct discomfort in her voice. “Charlie is – he’s very protective of his heart. As he should be. I’m very protective of his heart, too. Too protective. I’m – I’m trying to calm down a bit with it. I know you’re not – you’re not like his ex. I know that.”

Oh. Maybe he wasn’t going to get stabbed after all.

“And he knows that, too. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re good for him, you know that right?”

“I – I don’t –”

“Don’t be dense, Nick. It’s obvious he cares for you, and you for him. I wish things were different for you both. But he can’t – shit, why am I talking to you about this? You need to speak with him yourself.”

“I know. I – I have his stuff packed up. I could bring it up to the house later?”

Tori considered him for a moment and then shook her head. “I’ll send him down to you. He’ll be more comfortable talking at your flat.”

“Okay. Thank you, Tori. Really. Charlie is lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” she shrugged. “Now piss off so I can get on with my job, please.”

A laugh burst out of Nick at that. “Yeah, fair enough. Bye, Tori.”

He smiled at her and then turned to push back out of the door. Just before he did, she called his name one more time.

“You’ve been good for him, you know,” Tori told him, and then she turned away so he didn’t feel like he could respond.

Well. That hadn’t gone quite as expected.

The problem with knowing that Tori was going to tell Charlie to come to the flat was that Nick had no idea when to expect him. When he got back from Sundance he finished throwing everything into suitcases and boxes to distract himself, leaving them by the door to pack into the car before he fell asleep.

This place had become home to Nick. He had spent countless hours lounging on the sofas and baking in the kitchen and watching the clouds shift out on the balcony. He had fallen in love with Cornwall here, learned so much about himself here, remembered how to like that person a little bit again here. Nick had made a home for himself and it was going to be so hard to leave it, whether Charlie showed up that evening or not.

By the time he was all packed up it was gone seven pm and he knew Tori would be back from work by then and would most likely have spoken with Charlie. The rain was hammering down outside and the house felt cold with how empty it was now, so Nick took a long shower to try and warm up. It helped calm his nerves a little while he waited. After that, he threw on the joggers he’d left out of his suitcase and dried his hair off before going to make a cup of tea. If he was going to wait all evening on the off chance of Charlie showing up, then he was sure as hell going to do it with tea.

It was almost nine by the time there was a knock on the door. Nick braced himself before he walked as calmly as possible towards the front door.

Charlie stood on the other side with his arms twisted in front of him. He was soaked through, his Sundance hoodie clinging to his shoulders and his hair dripping into his face. He met Nick’s gaze but only briefly, his eyes settling somewhere behind Nick’s shoulders.

“Hi,” Nick said.

“Hi.”

Nick pulled the door open wider and let Charlie in. They stood in the hallway for a moment, the tension nearly killing Nick. The thing he loved so much about being with Charlie was how easy it always was, how uncomplicated. This felt anything but.

“Char, I –”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie interrupted him. “I’m sorry I stormed off like that. I can’t let you go back to London thinking that I hate you or that this didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Charlie,” Nick choked, reaching out. Charlie came easily, falling into his arms and holding him tightly. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie choked out. “I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

“No, I’m sorry. It was my fault. I let it all build up and then I just – I said all the wrong things at all the wrong times.”

Charlie pulled away and tearful eyes met. “I should’ve said things differently, too. But Nick… you leave tomorrow. Nothing is going to change that.”

“I know. I get it.”

“And it’s not that I don’t – fuck. I know who I am, you know? And I know what I want, and half a relationship with someone who lives 300 miles away isn’t it. I can’t stop feeling how I’ve felt for years or thinking the way I do just because I – because you’re so –”

“Charlie,” Nick stopped him, taking Charlie’s face between his hands. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I never should’ve asked you for something you’ve told me all along you can’t give. It wasn’t fair of me.”

Charlie shook his head, looking down at Nick’s chest. A sad smile lifted his lips as he reached for the chain hanging around Nick’s neck, tugging at it like he did so often.

“It doesn’t mean I won’t miss you,” he whispered.

“I’ll miss you too,” Nick responded, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s shoulders and pulling him into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much, Char.”

They held each other like that until Charlie began to shiver. Nick went and made them both cups of tea while Charlie showered and changed into dry clothes – Nick’s dry clothes. When he came back to the kitchen, he wrapped his arms around Nick’s waist from behind and rested his cheek on Nick’s back.

“Can I steal this hoodie? I know it’s silly, but it’s nice to have something to keep when you’re gone.”

Nick understood the need for that. He turned in Charlie’s arms and rested his chin on top of his curls. “Course you can.”

Charlie lifted his head, jolting Nick’s from its perch. He went up on his tiptoes and pressed their lips together, his hands balling up in the back of Nick’s t-shirt.

Nick breathed in sharply through his nose and held on tight as he deepened the kiss. He didn’t think he would ever get to do this again, had thought he’d had Charlie for the last time without even knowing it. Now, he had a chance to say goodbye properly.

They both left everything in their kiss; Nick could feel exactly what Charlie was telling him and hoped that Charlie could feel it from him, too. As it deepened, Nick let his hands slide down to cup Charlie’s arse and encouraged him upwards. Charlie took the hint and let himself be lifted, wrapping his legs around Nick’s waist as Nick walked them towards the bedroom.

One last night together. That was all they had now and Nick was going to make sure they made the most of it.

He laid Charlie down on his bed and kissed him soundly before moving down to his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin above his collarbone. Charlie’s hand slid into his hair and he grasped, keeping Nick close.

“Nick.” Nick turned his head to kiss him again properly and then rested their foreheads together, giving Charlie his full attention. “Will you fuck me?”

“Yes,” Nick exhaled. “Yeah. One sec, I packed away all the stuff.”

“Idiot,” Charlie teased, breaking through the melancholy mood.

“Fuck off,” Nick shot back, smiling as he hopped off the bed and hurried towards one of the bags in the hallway. When he got back, Charlie had himself in hand and was stroking lazily. “Christ, Char.”

“Hurry up.”

So he did. He didn’t take his time prepping Charlie, they didn’t have the time to take. He worked quickly instead with Charlie’s words and whines of encouragement spurring him on. By the time Nick slid inside him, they were both desperate.

It was frantic but soft, hurried but passionate. Nick held Charlie to him like he was something precious because he was, because he always would be. Charlie dug his nails into Nick’s back as they panted into each other’s mouths. Sweat and tears mingled on their faces as they said goodbye the only way they knew how.

Afterwards, Nick grabbed Charlie’s discarded t-shirt and cleaned them both up as best he could. Neither could be bothered to wash properly, not wanting to move from their cosy spot. Nick collapsed back down half on top of Charlie, his head on his shoulder and their legs tangled together under the sheets.

“Can I ask you a question?” Nick murmured, tracing his finger along Charlie’s collarbone. Charlie looked apprehensive but he nodded anyway. “I told Tori I would bring your stuff up to the house for you but she told me to let you come here instead, that you’d be more comfortable here.”

“That doesn’t sound like a question,” Charlie said cheekily.

Nick pinched his side. “You know what I’m getting at.”

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted, turning his head to look up at the ceiling. The arm he had wrapped around Nick’s shoulder tightened. “Did you know I’ve never lived in a home of my own?”

“No?”

“Nope. I moved from my shitty parent’s house to awful student accommodation at uni. My flatmates were okay and I met my friend Isaac there so that was all great, but – well. I also met Ben. He had me moving into his flat in my second year and then I dropped out shortly after that. I’ve told you about how he – he kept me, you know? I had no money, no life of my own. It was just him and his stuff in his house. When I left him, I moved in with Tao. He was wonderful, is wonderful, but I always felt like I was intruding. He promised I wasn't, but he was just starting out in his career and he needed all the space for his film gear.” Charlie sighed and turned back to look at Nick again. “Then I came here. Tori and Michael bought their house here years ago and it’s lovely, it really is, but it’s their house. I’ve always felt like a guest and that’s not on them. They want me to think of it as mine and want me to feel comfortable and I will never be able to repay them for letting me stay there, but – God, I sound like such an ungrateful little twat.”

“You don’t,” Nick said quickly, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s chest. “I can’t fully understand, but I get bits of it. I moved into Rowan’s flat when we decided to live together and it never – it never felt like ours. It was always his, with some of my stuff in it.”

Charlie smiled at him, a real smile. “Yes. Exactly. The reason I never invited you to the house this summer is because it’s not what I wanted to show you. It wasn’t mine. But here – here, I felt comfortable. I felt like I could be me and not feel any guilt or shame about it. I just existed here instead of worrying all the time. I think that’s why Tori told you to wait for me here. She knows how safe I feel in this flat.”

Nick wanted to sob. He wrapped his arms tighter around Charlie and squeezed. “You don’t know how happy it makes me that you felt like that here. I did too, you know. I always felt so comfortable here, with you.”

“I hope you know that I –” Charlie stopped and shook his head. “I hope you know how much this summer has meant to me.”

“Yeah?”

“You – you’ve been – God. It doesn’t matter. I just want you to know that I’m so glad you ended up in Praa Sands. I’m so glad we had the time we did.”

Nick blinked back the hot sting of tears, taking a steadying breath. “Me too. I feel so different to who I was when I first got here, you know?”

“I do too. I hope you find what you need in London, Nick.”

“Charlie,” Nick started. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed Charlie to know. There was so much that it all got jumbled in his brain and he couldn’t figure out how to begin.

“I know,” Charlie assured him. “Me too.”

Nick reached for Charlie and pulled his body in closer, pressing them against each other from shoulder to toe. He kissed him once, quickly, and then buried his face into the juncture between Charlie’s shoulder and neck. Charlie held him in return, one hand in his hair and the other splayed across his back. His grip was so tight that his nails dug in, but Nick didn’t care. Maybe the little crescent shaped marks would stay there forever, a tattooed reminder of Charlie that Nick could carry with him always.

He couldn’t have the real thing, but maybe that would do.

Nick stirred a few hours later. The bed felt cold and he knew before he opened his eyes that Charlie wasn’t in there with him anymore. He could hear footsteps in the hallway and he screwed his eyes up tight, trying to hold the tears in.

He couldn’t say goodbye, not again. He wanted to end it all on the time they'd had before they fell asleep, on the way they moved together and the words they shared. So when Charlie padded back into the room and the bed dipped down with his weight, Nick kept his eyes firmly shut.

Charlie’s hand pushed Nick’s hair back and Nick stayed as still as possible as Charlie leaned down to press his lips to his forehead.

“Thank you, Nick,” Charlie whispered. Nick could tell he was crying by the shake in his voice.

He wanted to grab Charlie and beg him to come home with him, or let him stay here, or to run the fuck away together and never go back to their real lives. He wanted so badly to cling on and not let go.

But he had to let go, they had to let go, so Nick laid still until he heard Charlie walk to the hallway and gather his bags. When the door clicked shut behind him, Nick buried his face in his pillow and let it all out.

Nick woke again at 6am. He had planned to leave a little later but he didn’t think he could stay for a second longer. He got up to start packing his bags into the car, trying not to think about why he never got to them the night before. As he was doing a final sweep of the flat, something caught Nick’s eye on the kitchen island.

When he got closer he realised that it was Charlie’s copy of Brideshead Revisited, battered and weathered from years of love. Nick traced the cracked spine carefully, wondering if he should run it up to Tori and Michael’s house or if it would be too painful to see him again now. He opened the cover and inhaled sharply as he saw Charlie’s messy handwriting scrawled across the title page.

Nick,

We never got to finish this together but I know you wanted to. This copy has years of my notes and thoughts scribbled all over it that might help it make sense. You loved to ask questions when I was reading it to you so I hope they can answer them when I’m not there.

‘If it could only be like this always - always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe...'. It is thus I like to remember Sebastian, as he was that summer, when we wandered alone together through that enchanted palace.

I’ll always remember our summer, Nick.

C x

And there went any hope Nick had of not crying again that morning. He held the book to his chest and hugged it tight, honoured to be in possession of something so dear to Charlie. He would treasure it for the rest of his life. He would keep it close and dream of their time together, of the adventures they had and the memories they made.

Their always summer.

Chapter Text

I wish I said it better
I was on the lookout for a fancy group of letters
To come out of my mouth
So you would think that I was clever
And maybe not the hot mess
I've been all through this endeavour

So I just wanna follow up
And say that you mean everything to me...

I'm afraid I love you

🌊🌊🌊

Being back in London was a mindfuck. Nick’s mum had picked up the keys for his new flat for him while he was still in Cornwall and, the angel that she was, had made his bed and stocked up his kitchen. When she and Nick had moved the rest of his stuff in, Nick had nearly burst into tears at the sight of the new space already looking like his, despite the fact that he had never set foot in the place before. The killer, of course, had been the framed A3 print of one of his photos of Nellie that was hung in the living room. He had pulled his mum into a hug that lasted far too long when he'd seen it and told her for the hundredth time how grateful he was for her.

As soon as she’d left that evening though, Nick had emotionally crashed. It was only day three without Charlie and Nick already hurt with how much he missed him. Their agreement to end their “relationship” and chalk it up to a summer fling felt ridiculous to him - how could what they shared be reduced down to something cheap and fleeting when Nick felt forever changed by it?

When he looked back on the start of the summer, Nick barely recognised himself. He had been grieving the loss of his best friend, grieving the loss of a relationship that was never good for him but still stung, grieving from having to say goodbye to the kids he’d taught and become attached to. He was lost, exhausted and more than a little depressed.

Over the summer, though, Nick had slowly felt himself coming back to life. What started as him being bumbling, awkward and miserable had turned into something that filled his life with sunshine. Every single time he made Charlie laugh or roll his eyes at him with that fond little smile playing on his lips, Nick felt a weight being lifted off his chest. Nick had never been with someone that he didn’t have to pretend with before and he hadn’t realised that he could spend all his time with somebody without feeling drained or overwhelmed. He really had thought that that was simply what relationships were – things that you had to give all your energy to, that overtook every aspect of your life, that left you depleted at the end of the day.

Being with Charlie was different. Nick never felt like he was giving and not getting anything in return, or like he was too much or not enough. He just was. Charlie saw right through him and liked what he saw, accepted what he saw with no questions asked. Nick hadn’t known that was possible.

While he felt changed irreversibly, Nick’s first week in London still hurt like his last months in Kent had. He was back to feeling that constant ache of having something missing from his life. Now he knew what love could feel like when it was real – good and pure and exciting – he hated going back to the start.

Maybe that was the point. Maybe Charlie had come into his life to teach him how to be himself and to prepare Nick for his next love, his last love. He was ready for it now, he was sure of that.

He just wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for anyone but Charlie.

Nick settled into his new school well. On his first day, he had worn the very bi pride pin that had seen him ousted from his old job. The head, Ms Singh, had smiled when she had seen it as they shook hands before leading him to meet the rest of the staff.

The kids were great; tiny and excitable and thrilled to have a new teacher. Nick kept an eye on the troublemakers and made extra time for the quiet kids and fell back in love with his career with each passing day. The teachers were nice too. They welcomed him in and while Nick knew he wouldn’t get on with all of them, he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with the same kind of homophobia there as he did at his previous school. That was enough for him.

He had a long dinner with Elle, flicking through photograph after photograph to choose a selection for the exhibition. Elle loved far more of them than Nick did, but he managed to narrow it down to ten that he would mull over before the opening at the end of September.

He also spent countless hours on Tara and Darcy’s sofa, telling them the stories of his summer and catching up on what he’d missed in their friendship group while he was gone.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Charlie in the end,” Tara told him, rubbing his shoulder as they curled up on the couch together.

“It’s okay,” Nick said. It wasn’t really okay but that was okay too, he thought. “I think maybe sometimes people come into your life and they help you in a way you need at the time but… but that doesn’t mean it’s meant to last forever, you know?”

Tara nodded but Darcy stood up from the armchair and crossed their arms over their chest.

“That’s bullshit, Nicholas Nelson.”

“Darcy!”

“No, T, come off it. You can’t honestly sit here and listen to this and tell me it’s right. Nick, you fucking adore that boy.”

“That isn’t always enough, Darce,” Nick pointed out. “We both have lives and things going on and we can’t just drop it all on a whim. It’s not the be all and end all of someone’s life, you know, being in a romantic relationship.”

“Of course it fucking isn’t,” Darcy huffed. “But it means a hell of a lot when you love someone, Nick. It doesn’t happen that often. I’ve never seen you more comfortable in a relationship before and I can’t sit here and let you throw it away on the off chance that it really wasn’t meant to be.”

“Nick,” Tara probed gently. “They do have a point. We watched you lose all these little parts of you with Rowan and now you’re more yourself than you have been for years.”

“Yeah, because I took the time I needed to figure myself out again. It’s not – I’m not just doing better because of Charlie,” he insisted. Because yes, of course Charlie cheered him up and of course he meant so much to Nick, but Nick also knew that more had changed inside him than only that. He liked himself again and that had to mean more than somebody else liking him, surely.

“Can’t it be both things?” Darcy challenged, kneeling in front of the sofa and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t you feel good about yourself but also feel good about being with someone?”

“I mean, yeah,” Nick allowed. “But the point still stands that we agreed to leave what we had in Cornwall. We agreed to go back to real life.”

“Nicky. I hate to break it to you, kid, but that was real life too. You didn’t dream it all up. It happened and it was real and you fell in love. Did you even tell him?”

“You know I did,” Nick frowned. “I said we didn’t need to end it but he didn’t want to continue or have a long distance thing or -”

“Nick,” Tara stopped him. “Did you tell Charlie, out loud, that you’re in love with him?”

“Yes!” Nick exclaimed. Although, when he really thought about it, did he?

He tried to think back to that awful day on St. Michaels Mount and what exactly he had said. Because, actually, he hadn’t really said much of anything, had he? He had spluttered through a few nonsensical sentences about them seeing each other beyond the summer, but he hadn’t said anything he’d actually meant to. He hadn’t told Charlie how he really felt, not in words. When they’d held each other after their last time together, they still hadn’t really talked. Nick had spent this whole fortnight thinking that he had laid it all out on the line and Charlie had told him no. In reality, he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed, falling back against the sofa and looking at Tara helplessly. “I didn’t. I didn’t even – I don’t think I even implied it?”

“And there it is,” Darcy sighed. “Babe, you’re so good at so many things, but being forthcoming with the things that you want is not one of them.”

“Fucking hell,” Nick groaned. “I really – I don’t know how I got this so twisted. I don’t – I mean, it still doesn’t change anything, does it? Because I did say I wanted to keep seeing each other and he told me he didn’t want a long-distance relationship so it's not as if I didn’t try?”

“I mean, there’s always the possibility that he didn’t want a long-distance relationship with someone he was fucking around with. One with someone who’s in love with him and maybe he loves back? That’s different, right?” Tara asked.

And fuck, was it? Could it be? Could Charlie feel the same way he does and he only said no because he didn’t know that Nick felt it too?

It would be a longshot, certainly. It was still likely that it wouldn’t change anything for Charlie. But if there was a small chance, even the tiniest of chances... wasn’t it worth trying?

When Nick got home from Tara and Darcy’s after a few more pep-talks, some tough love and countless hugs, he opened his Cornwall folder on his laptop. He had saved all of the photos of Charlie into their own subfolder but hadn’t been able to bring himself to look through them yet. Now, though, with his conversation with Tara and Darcy fresh in his mind, he wanted to know if he could see anything in Charlie in these pictures to indicate if there were real feelings there for him. If maybe, just maybe, he thought that there was a reason to fight for what they had.

Nick took his time looking through them all. Hundreds of Charlie, of both of them together, of things they had done and places they’d seen. A whole life lived out in six weeks. As he flicked through them in order, he saw what Imogen had told him weeks ago but he had never truly believed. He saw Charlie’s smile change.

He hadn’t noticed the change in real time, in either Charlie or himself, but it was clear as day through his photos. He could see Charlie opening himself up, could tell when their relationship had started to change just from how Charlie looked down the lens. He started to become silly and teasing rather than surprised and tentative, and it was a beautiful thing to witness.

He saved his favourites in a new folder as he went along, tears gathering in his eyes as he watched not only Charlie but also himself bloom in front of his eyes. He couldn’t believe the difference in himself from the first photo he had taken of them together to the last. In the latter, Nick seemed to be standing taller, with a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there at the start of the summer. Nick kept clicking through the photos of them looking like pure joy until he got to one that stopped him in his tracks.

Nick stared at the picture for far longer than was probably socially acceptable. Of all the ones he had taken during this trip, of the hundreds he had taken of Charlie, none of them came as close to capturing him as this one did.

It was from the day they had swum together at Little Perhaver beach. While Charlie was half turned away towards the sunset, Nick could still see the curve of his lips, the strength of his jawline, the slope of his nose. His damp curls were stuck to his forehead and his olive skin glowed in the sinking sunlight. His bare chest was turned at an angle, his arms spread out either side of him and resting on top of the water as he gazed away from Nick, away from the camera. The sunset behind Charlie wasn’t the focus of the photo, but the lens flare from the rays fell across his body, thin and glowing strips of gold painting Charlie’s chest and arm. The smile on Charlie’s face, while almost obscured by the angle of the picture, was wide and brilliant. It was the best smile Nick had ever seen, stretching Charlie’s cheeks until he looked so free and so happy, but it still cocked to one side to give a sense of his cheekiness.

It was Charlie.

Nick knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was it, this was the picture he wanted to be displayed in Elle’s exhibition. He had been taking the Sunshine brief far too literally all these weeks while he tried to find the perfect shot. It didn’t need to be a photo of the sun that he submitted, it didn’t need to be a landscape or a beach or any of the nonsense he had thought it should be. It didn’t need to be the sun, just a sun.

And so it was Charlie. Nick’s own sunshine.

And fuck, okay, Darcy was right. Charlie was it. Charlie was everything. Nick never told him in words how he felt about him and maybe hearing it would change something for Charlie. Maybe it wouldn’t, but Nick thought it was worth the final shot. If Charlie had already forgotten him or was already over him, he could ignore Nick completely and they could both move on with their lives. But if not, if there was the smallest of possibilities that distance really did make the heart grow fonder? Well. That would be worth the possible humiliation of being rejected again.

With a new found determination, Nick sent dozens of his favourite photos to print. He gathered them together in order of when he had taken them and kept his favourite, his sunshine picture, to one side. Then, he did the only thing he could think of and grabbed a pen, ripped a page out of his notebook and began to write.

Char,

Hi. I miss you. I hope that’s okay to say.

So, I’m an idiot. You warned me. You told me straight up that you don’t do commitment or relationships and I told you I was fine with that. And I was, at first. I respected it and I admired you for knowing who you are and what you want in life. Except, as I mentioned before, I’m an idiot. I fell for you anyway, even though I knew we were impossible.

It’s probably really selfish of me to send you this now. You probably still don’t want to hear it and I should accept that and let you get on with your life. When I was looking through my photos from the summer, though, I realised that I wanted you to see them.

You told me once that you wanted to know what you looked like through my lens and I told you you looked beautiful. I don’t think you believed me, so I figured I’d show you. I’m sending some of my favourite pictures that I took of you, or us, in the time we shared together. I want you to see yourself the way everyone else does. The way I do.

I hope you notice the same evolution that I did when I looked through these. Do you see how your smile changes from the early photos to the later ones? Do you see how your shoulders relax and you let go?

You always knew who you were Charlie, but I feel like I had the privilege of seeing you learn to love that person over the last couple of months. I don’t think I will ever be able to explain how special it was to watch you grow, to watch you embrace all of yourself. I keep thinking that you changed me - you changed me forever and for the better - but looking at these made me wonder if I changed you, too. I hope so. I hope I made some kind of impression, in some small way. Even if it was just getting you to swim in the sea! If that’s the only impact I had on you, I’ll take it.

I hope you think about me every time you swim for the rest of your life, Charlie Spring.

I should have told you how special you are to me before I left. I’ll regret that forever. I wasn’t sure you would want to hear it at the time and I didn’t want to put you on the spot. What I should’ve said is that I think this is worth it. I think what we have is worth any distance or any struggles. I’ve never felt so at ease with anyone in my life and the thought of you not being in my life now seems ridiculous. I would put in so much effort to make this work, if it would be something you’re interested in. I feel so ready to be with you properly, in every way. Say the word and I’ll be there to try, okay?

I don’t know what else to say but I wanted you to have this ridiculous letter as if it’s the fucking 90s. You can ignore it or rip it up or burn it at Michael’s next bonfire if that’s what’s right for you. There are absolutely no expectations for you to respond in any way whatsoever. I just wanted you to know. I wanted you to see.

I also wanted you to know that I have a favourite photo for the exhibition. It’s the one with the post-it note on it. I thought it might be okay because you can’t see your face properly, but I’ll only use it with your permission. There’s still time for you to tell me to fuck off and delete every trace of you from my camera. I will. In a heartbeat, if that’s what you want. But this picture – I can’t get enough of it. It captures you so perfectly.

It’s just you. My sunshine boy.

Anyway, I hope these pictures make you happy. And I hope you can see what I saw behind the lens.

God, Charlie, I still see you everywhere I look. You’ve coloured my life in a way that will stay with me forever, I hope you know that. My world feels full of books and warmth and sunshine in a way it never has before. I smile at strangers in the street because that’s what Praa Sands was like (side note: would not recommend in London. I might get arrested soon). I go and see unheard of bands play in tiny pubs and tell everyone at work about them. I finally read the rest of Brideshead. I didn’t understand a word of it but it was beautiful. It’s not the same without you reading it to me.

Oh, and I love you, by the way. I should have said that before I left. I’m in love with you. (I’m sorry).

Yours, (seriously, all yours),
Nick.

Once he had finished and was as happy with the letter as he would ever be, he folded it up and slid all of the printed photos inside. He rummaged around his school craft and stationary supplies and found an A5 padded envelope to put everything in. Just as he was about to seal it in, Nick had a possibly stupid thought. Before he could talk himself out of it, he unclasped his chain from around his neck and dropped that into the envelope, too.

Charlie had given him his favourite copy of his favourite book. It was only fair he had something a part of Nick in return.

The days passed slowly after he sent the package to Charlie. Nick tried not to think about how it would’ve got there already or what Charlie might be thinking about it. He carried on his days as if he hadn’t laid everything on the line to the man he loved with no way of knowing if it had even been read yet.

And so, after four days of feeling on edge, Nick nearly shat himself when he got the text. It was simple, but it told him everything he needed to know.

Charlie: of course you can use the picture. it’s really beautiful, nick. i hope the exhibition goes well.

Charlie: thank you.

And so that was that. He could use the photo, but that was all. No acknowledgement of the rest of the letter, no response to Nick baring his soul.

Tara and Darcy absolutely couldn’t argue this one away. Nick and Charlie were well and truly done.

Nick let himself wallow for a few hours and then shook himself out of it. He hadn’t lost anything new, not really. Now that he knew for certain where he stood, he could start trying to move on.

He threw himself into the exhibition when he wasn’t working, helping Elle set up the gallery space and doing as much as he could to make everything perfect for her. He could see the concerned looks she kept shooting him but he plastered on a smile and told her he was happy to help.

As September rolled towards its end, Nick started to feel genuinely excited about the exhibition. His pictures looked great hanging up in their fancy frames, surrounded by everyone else’s paintings and creations. They were stunning - everyone had done a beautiful job. No one more than Elle, of course. She had outdone herself, creating absolute masterpieces of her own versions of sunshine.

On the evening of the opening, Nick showed up early to help ease Elle’s nerves. She had a possible promotion at the gallery riding on this event going well and Nick was determined to help in any way he could.

The space she had created in the gallery looked gorgeous. It was a large white box of a room, but one of the installations took up almost the whole of one wall and lit the room in a warm glow. It was made up of dozens of orange and yellow fluorescent light fixtures in the shape of a partially setting sun which half disappeared into the floor. It was simple but so effective, taking Nick’s breath away when he first walked into the room.

“Well don’t you look nice,” Elle said as she walked towards him, the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor echoing in the nearly empty room. She looked stunning in an ankle length pink dress, her hair piled high on top of her head in an elegant bun.

Nick, on the other hand, was wearing his smartest trousers and the same dark navy suit jacket he’d worn to his uni graduation. It was too tight now, but he hadn’t quite had the enthusiasm to go shopping for a new one. His white shirt could definitely do with another iron and he hadn’t even bothered with a tie, which he regretted when he saw how wonderful Elle looked.

“Me? I look like an awkward penguin. You, however,” Nick responded, bringing his fingers to his lips in a chef’s kiss gesture.

Elle rolled her eyes but kissed both of his cheeks in greeting, grinning when she pulled away. “Doesn’t it look good?”

“It looks incredible,” he confirmed, squeezing her hand.

The venue started filling up shortly after. Tara and Darcy arrived in a flurry of jokey air kisses and overly posh accents, which Nick tried to shush as he looked furtively at the actual fancy people surrounding them. He felt like a kid playing dress up, especially when extremely well-dressed people came up to him and asked about his photos. He didn’t really know how to answer other than I had a good subject, but it seemed to make a couple of people smile at least. By 9pm, Nick started to feel a little overwhelmed with the whole thing. This wasn’t his scene at all and he felt a bit stupid in comparison to the actual artists who were milling about. He heard Elle’s laugh form across the room, felt the pride swell inside him at how she was holding her own, and sucked his anxiety the fuck up. He could do this.

He saw the Converse first.

Nick was hiding in a corner by the bathrooms with his glass of champagne clutched against him, hoping nobody would come over and talk to him. He had left Tara and Darcy with Elle and the three of them seemed to be getting along like a house on fire, giggling in the middle of the room as they admired all the pieces. Nick had stayed with them until the bubbly hit and he looked over at his main photograph. Having Charlie staring back at him was a little too much when he was on the wrong side of tipsy.

So there he stood by himself, staring at the floor and willing the evening to be over, when a pair of filthy white Converse came into view. Nick huffed out a humourless laugh at the sight of them. How stupid that a pair of shoes could send him back into summer, back into a place he’d never see again.

“Nick?”

He nearly dropped his drink. Nick snapped his head up and holy fucking shit. They weren’t just any filthy white Converse.

“Charlie?”

“Hi,” Charlie said, and oh god Nick had missed his voice. “I –” Charlie stopped and shook his head, and then marched forward to wrap his arms around Nick’s waist.

Nick staggered back at the force of Charlie’s body crashing into his, but his free arm came up to circle Charlie’s shoulders out of pure instinct. His breath left him in a rush as he buried his face in Charlie’s curls, inhaling his scent and trying to convince himself that this was real, that Charlie was actually here.

As soon as he had fallen into the hug, Charlie stepped back again. He swiped at his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry. Fuck, sorry. I just – I really fucking missed those hugs.”

Nick let out a surprised sound as tears sprang into his own eyes. It had only been three and a half weeks since they had touched but it felt like a lifetime. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Um. I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue. I – I wanted to talk in person.”

“Oh.”

Charlie gave him a small shrug and a rueful smile. “This is probably not the time or the place, though. I didn’t know how else to find you.”

“How did you find me here?”

“Our old friend Google. London, gallery, sunshine, Elle, Nick Nelson – did the trick.”

“Right,” Nick ducked his head. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I should’ve got the first train the second I got your letter,” Charlie admitted, and oh.

Oh.

Nick looked up at him, feeling something close to hope starting to light up his insides.

“I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do. I do, because I lied to you. I mean, to be fair, I was lying to myself too. But if I’d just – if I had given you a chance to talk that day on St. Michaels Mount. If I hadn’t just panicked and pushed you away and – God, Nick. I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

“I get it,” Nick told him. “That day was a train wreck, honestly. I don’t blame you for not responding how you wanted to in the moment.”

“You’re sweet, Nick, but I said some things that you should actually be angry at me for. I – I was so stubborn. Again, now is not the time or place but I would like to explain if you’ll let me. At some point when we’re not in the middle of a fancy exhibition opening?” Charlie smiled nervously, glancing around at the guests all dressed in their smartest clothes. His eyes flickered back to Nick, up and down his body slowly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

“Oh. Um. So do you.”

Charlie barked a laugh as he looked down at his dark green coat, ripped jeans and dirty shoes. “Nick.”

Nick shrugged. “You always look lovely.”

“God, stop being so nice to me. You should hate me after the way I responded to your letter.”

And okay, yes, that had hurt. It was painful to be rejected, but it was also fair. Nick couldn’t hold it against someone if they didn’t want him. That wouldn’t be fair of him.

So instead of being angry, Nick suggested the thing he actually wanted in that moment for once in his life. “Do you want to get out of here? We could go back to mine and talk?”

Charlie paused, looking around them at the crowds again. “You can’t leave your own exhibition, Nick.”

“It’s not mine. Besides, we already have a habit of leaving parties early. What’s one more?”

Charlie considered him for a moment. “Yeah, okay, fuck it. But we can’t go to yours.”

“Why not?”

“Nicholas. You know as well as I do that if we go back to your flat then we won’t talk. And there’s definitely stuff we need to discuss before – that.”

“Oh,” Nick flushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay. That’s – that’s a very good point.”

Charlie took a step closer and reached for his hand, squeezing it once. “Later though, yeah?”

Nick’s throat went dry. “Yeah. Okay. Let me just tell Elle I’m leaving. Come on.”

He led Charlie over to where his friends were admiring one of the sculptures and cleared his throat to get their attention. They all turned to him at once and Nick instantly regretted bringing Charlie over with him. Talk about feeding someone to the wolves.

“Hey, Elle. I’m so sorry to do this but I’m going to head out a bit early. I know I promised I’d stay and help you clear up, but –”

“Nick!” Elle interrupted him, her eyes darting over to Charlie. She knew that face well from all the pictures Nick had shared with her. She smiled and looked back at Nick, taking his champagne glass from him. “Go. After all your help the last few weeks, you deserve it. Get out of my sight.”

Nick grinned at her, so grateful that she wasn’t annoyed about him bailing. Even more grateful that she didn’t make a big deal of who he was with.

“I see how it is,” Darcy drawled, and oh god. Oh no. “You’re ditching us because you’ve made a friend. It’s nice to see you finally trying to get over –”

“Charlie,” the man himself interrupted, holding out his hand for Darcy to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

“Oh my fucking God,” Darcy’s eyes were wide for a moment as they gaped at Nick. “Charlie Charlie?”

“And I’m guessing that you’re Darcy,” Charlie said. He was smiling, much to Nick’s relief. He didn’t look like he already wanted to run back to Praa Sands, thank fuck.

Darcy didn’t respond, still staring open-mouthed between them. Tara laughed and threw her arm around Darcy’s shoulder. “Go, Nick. I’ll deal with them.”

Nick darted forward to kiss Tara on the cheek, and then Elle. He ruffled Darcy’s mullet, which brought them out of their daze with an irritated ‘hey!’. Then, he grabbed Charlie’s hand and started to walk him towards the exit.

“Shit, wait, we can’t go yet.” He stopped, turning back round to start pulling Charlie in the other direction.

“Why not?”

Nick turned and smiled softly at him. “You need to see your picture first.”

“Oh,” Charlie whispered, letting Nick lead him towards the large print on the far wall.

Charlie gazed up at it while Nick watched for his reaction. While he stared, Charlie took a step closer to Nick and linked their arms together, leaning his head against Nick’s shoulder.

“It’s me,” he breathed softly.

Nick bent forward to press a kiss into Charlie’s hair. He didn’t know if he was allowed to do that, but it felt right in the moment. Charlie responded by sliding his hand down Nick’s arm, tangling their fingers together and holding on tight.

“Yeah. It’s you.”

Nick walked them to a café he knew nearby that was open late. Charlie hadn’t let go of his hand yet and Nick held his breath, desperate not to rock the boat. He couldn’t help saying something after a few moments of walking in silence though.

“You don’t have any stuff with you,” he pointed out, almost scared to ask his next question. “Does that mean you’re… not staying?”

“The opposite, actually. I already dropped it all off at Tao’s. Where I’m staying. Um. Permanently?”

Nick stopped walking, causing Charlie to be jerked to a halt by their joined hands.

“What?” Nick asked quietly. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he would break the spell, that Charlie would laugh in his face and tell him he was joking like in the first days they knew each other.

“There’s a lot to explain,” Charlie answered sheepishly. “But all you need to know for now is that I’m staying here, in London. And that I – I love you, too.”

“Charlie,” Nick exhaled, those simple words sending Nick’s entire body into overdrive. His stomach was full of butterflies and his knees felt weak and all he could do was stare at him and try not to cry.

Charlie smiled just a little and tugged on Nick’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go and talk.”

Charlie ordered them both a coffee while Nick found a seat in a booth that gave them some privacy. When he had their drinks, Charlie slid in opposite Nick and passed him his.

“So. Hi.”

“I think we’ve done that part already,” Nick teased back, something he remembered saying to Charlie in another life back in Praa Sands.

“Yeah. Yes. I – I don’t know where to start, really.”

“Me neither.”

Charlie chuckled and looked down into his coffee. “I guess I could start by telling you I’ve missed you?”

Nick smiled and knocked his ankle against Charlie’s under the table. “Yeah?”

“Alright, don’t milk it.” Charlie rolled his eyes, making Nick laugh.

“I’ve missed you too, Char. I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t want me to be,” Charlie admitted, wrapping his fingers around his mug. “So thanks for not marching me to Paddington and putting me right back on a train to Penzance.”

“You really thought I wouldn’t want to see you?”

Charlie shrugged, still not meeting Nick’s eye properly. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I was having a lot of thoughts, not all of them good. And I’m not – I feel like it’s important to say that I’m not here chasing you on a whim or anything. I’ve been thinking about this move a lot, even before I met you. About – about where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s time for me to start my own life,” Charlie said decisively, finally looking up. “I want that now. I want to be in a place I adore where I have friends who love me and working towards a job that I’ve wanted for me. Eventually I want a home of my own, something that’s finally mine. My life. And I would – I would love for you to be in it, if you still want that. If you still want me.”

“If I still want you?” Nick repeated disbelievingly. “Char, didn’t you read my stupid letter?”

Charlie’s lips quirked upwards and his hand flew towards his neck. He reached into his knitted jumper and pulled out something silver from underneath it, holding it carefully between his thumb and forefinger.

Nick’s chain. Charlie was wearing Nick’s chain.

“It wasn’t stupid. It meant – it means so much to me, Nick. I knew as soon as you left that I never should’ve let you go like that, but I didn’t – I couldn’t face why until I read your letter. I was just lying to myself, convincing myself there was no point even trying because these things don’t end well. They never do. They can’t. I thought that I couldn’t be with you because I decided years ago that I wouldn’t be with anyone again and I felt like I owed it to myself to honour that. But then I got your letter and I thought, what if it could work? What if it’s worth the risk in the hope that it would end well for us? And so it took me longer than it should have, but I’m here now. And I hope I’m not too late.”

“Of course you’re not, you idiot.” Nick kicked him under the table again, grinning when Charlie glared at him. “You really think we can make it work?”

“I really hope so. It doesn’t feel as scary as it did back in Cornwall, somehow. Like, I’ve had time to sit with it and now that I really know how you feel – well. That’s less scary.”

Nick couldn’t do much else than gaze adoringly at Charlie. He felt so proud of him. Charlie had always been so confident in himself but seeing him now pushing his own boundaries was making Nick’s heart swell. Especially if pushing those boundaries led him right back to Nick.

Charlie smiled back at him and then got up and, in one swift movement, slid into the same side of the booth as Nick. “Is this okay? Sitting over there feels too far away right now.”

“Um, yes,” Nick answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He lifted his arm over Charlie’s shoulder and pulled him even closer, Charlie’s hand falling to Nick’s thigh as his head came to rest on Nick’s shoulder.

They were quiet for a moment, Nick simply enjoying the feeling of having Charlie next to him again, until Charlie started talking again with a slight shake in his voice.

“I’ve been emailing with a professor at UCL,” he said quietly. “She’s put me in touch with some groups that need volunteers. Charities who go into schools to help struggling kids, that kind of thing, to get the experience I need to… to become an EMHP, like we talked about. I’m going to volunteer two days a week and then I managed to get a shitty café job to pay the bills. Tao – he’s amazing, I can’t wait for you to meet him – is letting me stay at his for dirt cheap. It’s criminal how little he wants from me, honestly. But it means I can do all of this now and then start applying to the jobs and courses I need next year to qualify.”

Nick turned wide eyes on him. If he thought he had felt proud before, he didn’t even know what this feeling was. “Charlie. I can’t – that’s amazing.”

“It might all go to shit yet.” Charlie shrugged. “But I’m ready to try at least. I don’t want to die in my sister’s spare room, serving the same four people coffee and missing someone so much it hurts.”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s that?”

Charlie dug his elbow into Nick’s ribs. Hard. “Fuck off, Photo Boy.”

Nick beamed at him. “So you’re really staying? In London?”

“Yeah. You’re kind of stuck with me now. Unless you don’t want to be. In which case, it’s a good job London is big enough to hide in?”

“Unless I don’t want to be,” Nick scoffed under his breath. “Char, I’m wrapping you up and not letting you out of my sight.”

To prove his point, Nick opened his suit jacket and wrapped the edges around Charlie’s body too, pushing them so close together that you could barely tell where one ended and the other began. Charlie giggled, burrowing in and gripping him right back.

“Okay. That’s good because I’m wrapping you up, too. The last month was enough, I’m not willing to be away from you again.”

Clingy, Nick thought happily. Maybe clingy was okay when you both felt the same way, when what you were clinging onto was the right thing. It never had been before, not for Nick, but with Charlie? With Charlie, he could hold on tight and be held right back.

“I really fucking love you,” Nick told him.

“I really fucking love you too, you giant dickhead,” Charlie responded, looking up at Nick through his lashes as his smile turned to a smirk. “Now. What was that you were saying earlier about going back to yours?”

The look on Charlie’s face was enough for Nick to book an uber rather than faffing around with tubes or buses and within twenty-five minutes he had Charlie in his bed.

Charlie. In his bed. In London.

“You’re really here,” he breathed as they stripped each other of their clothes.

They didn’t even pretend to want to take their time. Nick had missed Charlie too much, needed him too much to go slowly now. They had time for that later. They would always have time for that.

Nick couldn’t even tell how he’d ended up on his back with Charlie working his way inside him, but there he was. He gasped, his arms stretched backwards as his fingers gripped tightly at the metal bars of his headboard. Charlie chuckled above him and pushed forward even faster, even harder, until Nick’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“You look different,” Charlie panted, running his hand up Nick’s chest and stroking at his stubble.

Nick kind of wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. His appearance wasn’t exactly at the top of his topics to discuss list while Charlie was fucking him.

“You’re all neat,” Charlie continued anyway. “Your hair and your beard are shorter.”

“Work,” Nick managed to choke out, the only explanation he was willing to offer at that moment.

“I kind of liked you scruffy.”

“Char, darling, I love you, but if you keep talking about my facial hair then I might move to fucking Cornwall or something.”

That, as intended, shut Charlie right up. He paused in his movements, staring down at Nick with a murderous look. “Too fucking soon, Nelson.”

Nick laughed, reaching up to cup Charlie’s cheek. “Then shut up and fuck me properly, yeah?”

Charlie growled as he batted Nick’s hand away and then did exactly as he was told. Smug from a mission accomplished, Nick lay back and let himself be taken apart.

After they'd both finished, Charlie rolled off and held himself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at Nick.

“You’re getting very bossy, Nelson.”

“Get used to it, Spring.”

Charlie dipped down to kiss Nick’s cheek before settling onto his back beside him. “Oh, I intend to.”

Nick grinned in response, reaching over to hook a finger around his chain that was lying against Charlie’s skin, like Charlie used to do when Nick was wearing it. Maybe one day he’d wear it again himself but for now it was well and truly Charlie’s. Just as Nick was.

He slept soundly that night with Charlie’s arms wrapped tightly around him. In the morning, he gave Charlie the proper tour of his flat and endured all the teasing about his terrible taste in wall art and the scabby paint job and the fact that the whole flat was bare and minimalistic until you stepped into his office. That was pure mayhem, overflowing with school supplies and chaos. Nick let Charlie continue with his snarky running commentary until they eventually cosied up on Nick’s sofa and laid everything on the table.

“I’ll probably fuck up,” Charlie warned him. “I have a lot of years of swearing off relationships to deprogram from and I’m – I’m really trying to be open and to work with you here but please be patient with me.”

“Char,” Nick uttered. “You’re not the only one. I feel pretty out of my depth here too. I was a fucking mess in Cornwall, never being honest with you about what I wanted. But as long as we both agree that it’s worth the effort, I think we’ll be fine.”

“And you do, right? You still think it’s worth it now that I’m actually here and not just a nice little memory from your summer or a photo on your camera?”

“Um, yes. Actual you actually here is a hundred times better than picture you. Promise.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And when we say relationship… we are on the same page, right?”

Nick squeezed a hand around one of Charlie’s ankles. “Yeah. I hope so, at least. Like. Official and not seeing anyone else, type thing?”

“Like, boyfriends, I guess?”

Nick’s returning grin could’ve split his face in two. “Yeah. Boyfriends.”

Charlie shuddered. “God, that was so cringe.”

“You love it,” Nick countered, laughing when Charlie rolled his eyes.

Charlie could act as exasperated as he wanted, but Nick knew the truth now. Charlie was just as disgustingly sappy as he was, and Nick didn’t think he would ever get over the thrill of that.

“Seriously though, Nick. There are things I need to apologise for.”

“Char -”

“No, please let me,” Charlie requested. He shuffled from his spot opposite Nick on the sofa and leaned against his side instead, his hand resting on Nick’s stomach and his head on his shoulder. “I didn't mean any of the things I said at St. Michael’s Mount, I promise. I was so frustrated and so confused. I knew that I wanted to be with you properly, but I didn’t think it was something I could have. I’ve spent so long putting up these walls and refusing to let anyone in and you walked in and fucking – you smashed them down.”

“Sorry about that,” Nick said, smiling when Charlie nudged him in the ribs.

“You should be, you twat,” Charlie joked back. “But really. I wasn’t expecting you. I wasn’t expecting to ever feel like this; I didn’t think I’d ever want to. And then suddenly I did but you were leaving and I – God, I felt so stuck. Praa Sands healed me and I’ll always love it, it was what I needed at the time. But then I was feeling like myself again and just there, floating along, not really living. I needed a good kick up the arse to get moving and it turned out that kick up the arse came in the form of a 6 foot 2 bumbling mess of a man who couldn’t string two sentences together when he looked at me.”

“Oh, fuck right off.” Nick groaned, grabbing Charlie by the waist and lifting him onto his lap so he could dig his fingers into Charlie’s sides.

Charlie squeaked and fought against him, still giggling when they settled again. He moved to straddle Nick where he sat, his arms sliding around Nick’s shoulders.

“You’re an idiot.”

Nick beamed back at him. “Thanks.”

Charlie rolled his eyes before he sobered again, his head tilting to one side as he looked down at Nick. “I really am sorry. For the things that I said, but also the way I acted. I spent weeks telling you I couldn’t be with you and all the while I was introducing you to my friends and kissing you in public like a proper knob.”

And no, Nick wasn’t having that. He wrapped his arms around Charlie’s waist and linked his hands together on his back, holding Charlie’s body securely against his.

“You weren’t a knob. I really – I do get it, you know. It was kind of confusing when you started getting more affectionate in front of people but I went along with it. I could’ve said something but I was enjoying it too much. And I’m sorry for that as well. I’m sorry for leaving without telling you how I felt and I’m definitely sorry for how I acted that day. St. Michael’s Mount is cursed, I swear.”

Charlie huffed a laugh and nodded as he leaned down to press a kiss to Nick’s forehead. “It definitely is. And it’s okay. I was never angry at you, only myself.”

“Well, same.”

“Wow. What a pair we make.”

Nick tilted his head to kiss Charlie once, just quickly, and then pulled away again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think it would have made a difference if I’d said it all? When I was still there, I mean. What do you think would’ve happened?”

Charlie sucked in a breath and averted his eyes as he thought, a sad smile lifting his lips. “Honestly, I think I still would’ve told you to leave. I don’t think I was ready to hear it. I needed to have some space to properly think about what I wanted. It was Tori who ended up talking sense into me, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Nick asked, slightly surprised to hear that.

“I know she’s a prickly bastard, but she actually really likes you. She thinks you’re good for me.”

“Wow. I’m honoured,” Nick said. He meant it as a joke, but the sentiment was true.

“I moped for a week and then I started emailing unis, another thing I never thought I’d do again. I wanted to know what I’d need to do to start moving forward. It was a few days later when I realised that I’d only contacted London based universities.”

“Really now?” Nick teased. “Why’s that?”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t think I will, actually.”

Charlie dug his nails into Nick’s shoulder in retaliation. “Look, I love London. I loved living here and I missed my friends and I adore the faster pace. The fact that you’re here had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Bullshit,” Nick grinned.

“Fine. Maybe it had, like, three percent to do with you.”

“Three hundred, maybe.”

“You’re so annoying,” Charlie sighed, but his smile said otherwise. “Fine, so I wanted to be nearer to you, but it’s no secret that the opportunities here are better. When I finally plucked up the courage to tell Tori, she nearly put me on a train that night. She thought that the job thing was the best idea I’d ever had.”

“It’s a fucking good idea,” Nick affirmed.

“Right?” Charlie grinned back, a far cry from the nervous man who had first told Nick about it a month ago. “Anyway. I started making vague plans, like seeing if Tao would let me live with him again for starters, I could never afford London and volunteering without him. Tori kept insisting that I should get in touch with you and tell you my plans, but I kept putting it off and putting it off. She ended up enlisting Immy, too.”

“No way!” Nick laughed. “That sneaky thing, she never told me any of that.”

“I literally had to beg her not to. I knew you were still in touch and I just – I needed to think. Then I got your letter, and thinking went right out the window.”

Nick’s smile faltered as he looked down. That was one thing that did still hurt a little bit.

“Nick,” Charlie breathed, taking Nick’s face in both of his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have told you then, after I got the letter. I should’ve phoned or come straight here or – I don’t know. Something. Anything other than that shitty text I sent. I’m so sorry for that. I was still kind of panicking. I knew everything was about to change in my life and I was so determined not to let that, let you, be the reason I was doing it all. In my head it was like… like I needed this to be about me. That was kind of stupid though because of course it was about me, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a little bit about you too. After I confessed to Tori about the letter, she really let me have it. Telling me I owed it to you to tell you and that I was stupid to keep ignoring you. It was like a fucking light switch flipping, if that makes sense. Realising that I could do something to move my life forward while also letting someone else in. It sounds ridiculous to say it out loud now. Like, duh.”

Nick shook his head, his hands coming up to hold onto Charlie’s wrists. “Not ridiculous. Tara and Darcy had to tell me something similar. I was kind of determined to convince everyone that I wasn’t only doing better because I’d met someone. And that was true, but they reminded me that both were okay. That’s when I sent the letter.”

“I did wonder what had changed.”

“Nothing. I just stopped being a coward. I should’ve said it all weeks ago.”

“Well, like I said. I wasn’t ready to hear it then. A couple of days after I read all of your beautiful words, I was packing up and booking trains. I’d looked up Elle’s exhibition and figured that was the best way to find you because by that point, I don’t think a text would’ve cut it.”

“Literally anything would’ve cut it,” Nick chuckled. “I just missed you.”

“I missed you too. So much.”

Nick tipped his head to kiss Charlie again, soft and lingering. He didn’t bother pulling too far back, resting their foreheads together instead. “I’m glad you did it at your pace. You did the right thing, giving yourself the time to be sure. I would’ve waited far longer than a few weeks for you, if that wasn’t clear.”

“God, you’re going to be so unbearably sappy, aren’t you?”

Half of Nick wanted to pull back, to shy away and hide the parts of himself that previous partners hadn’t liked, but when he looked up at Charlie he knew he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t absolutely gone on him.

“Yes,” he replied confidently.

Charlie shook his head but he was smiling right back. “Good.”

Since then, things had been much easier. They talked through issues as and when they popped up, but mostly they just lived. They went back to Elle’s gallery and Charlie spent what felt like hours admiring Nick’s photos, telling him how proud he was. Charlie started reading Brideshead Revisited to him again from the start so that Nick could hear it all in the voice he loved so much. Charlie would lie back against the headboard or the arm of the sofa with Nick stretched out between his legs, his stomach on Charlie’s and his head on his chest while Charlie read. His tiny, dark London flat may not have held the same atmosphere as their open, light space back in Cornwall, but it still felt like heaven to Nick.

A couple of weeks after he’d arrived, Charlie started his volunteering while also working. He was stretched thin but he was absolutely smashing it, of course. He was tired but he was so, so happy and Nick felt like he could’ve burst with pride.

In the first few weeks, Nick would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with an ache in his chest, thinking he had been stupid enough to let Charlie go forever. On the night’s that Charlie wasn’t staying with him, Nick would glance around his bedroom at the glimpses of Charlie that lived there – a pile of his books on the bedside table, the extra phone charger in the plug or the old Sundance hoodie hanging on the back of the door. On the night’s that Charlie was there, Nick would reach out and pull him close, holding him that little bit tighter until his breathing calmed again.

Because he didn’t have to worry about Charlie not being with him anymore, and he would hopefully never have to worry about that again. Even when they annoyed the shit out of each other or Charlie was prickly from exhaustion and frustration, or when Nick tried too hard to smooth things over when what they really needed was space, it was worth it. It was worth it for every blinding smile Charlie sent his way, for every squeeze of his hand and every gentle kiss and every quiet moment they shared curled up together.

All of it was worth it for his sunshine.

Chapter Text

I don't mean to come on too strong
But the heartbeat in my chest makes me feel like you're my last

'Cause I still love you like I did in July
I still dream of you like the first night after the day you caught my eye
You've been the missing puzzle piece I've been looking for
And I've found the home that I've been searching for
And yearning for
In you

🌊🌊🌊

Nick looked out of the car window as they weaved along tiny, winding roads lined by tall hedges. There wasn’t much of a view through the thick gloom of grey clouds. It was raining, because of course it was.

It was strange for Nick to not be at the steering wheel along these roads. He had driven everywhere the last time he had been in Cornwall, a whole year ago now. He could barely even fathom how different that version of himself was. Last time he had made the journey from London to Praa Sands he had been miserable; fed up and grieving and barely able to crack a smile. This time? Well.

He turned against the headrest, his cheek squishing up against it as he looked at the driver of the car.

“Hi."

“Hi,” Charlie drawled, a slight look of confusion on his face. “You okay? You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’re thinking sappy things. Or worse, you’re about to say sappy things.”

Nick grinned at his boyfriend, who was focused on the road but smiling in a way that told Nick he saw right through him. God, Nick loved that smile. He had fallen in love with that smile on these very roads, in this very weather, in this very car. He had started falling then and hadn’t stopped since, finding new things every single day that had him descending deeper and deeper. A new kind of laugh or a freckle on his stomach that Nick had never noticed before or that one grey hair that Charlie swore Nick never saw – I’m 30, Nick! I do not have a fucking grey hair, you twat!

“I’m just very in love with you, Charlie Spring,” Nick replied. He saw Charlie’s jaw tick as he attempted not to show his smile, but he couldn’t hide his blush as easily. “And I think you’re a bit in love with me too, actually.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes. You’re coming on holiday with me so you must like me at least a little bit.”

“I’d hardly call staying at my sister’s house a holiday. It’s not exactly the Maldives, is it?”

“Everywhere feels like the Maldives with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Charlie groaned. “That was so bad, even for you.”

Nick chuckled and leant forward, reaching down into the footwell of the car to rummage in his backpack. He fished out his film camera and removed the lens cap, holding it up to his face. Charlie rolled his eyes, but he stuck his tongue out and turned towards Nick for the split second it took to take the photo.

“Some things never change, Photo Boy,” Charlie mused as he focused back on the road and Nick dropped the camera back into his bag.

A tiny yawn from behind them interrupted Nick’s reply and he turned to look into the crate that was secured in the back seat of the car. Inside, surrounded by blankets and her favourite toy – one of Nick’s old caps – lay their golden retriever puppy.

“And some things do,” Nick quipped, sticking his finger through the bars as she woke up. “You okay, Totty?”

She sniffed him, licked his fingertip once, and then turned around and settled facing away from him, presumably to fall back asleep.

Nick pouted. “Charming.”

“I think we really wore her out when we stopped,” Charlie said. “Her poor little legs.”

Nick crossed his arms across his chest. “Still. She could’ve at least nibbled on my hand or something.”

“You are an attention whore, Nicholas Nelson.”

“And this is news to you, how?”

Charlie laughed and lifted his hand from the gear stick to rest it on Nick’s knee instead, squeezing once. “And yes, Nick. I’m very in love with you too.”

Nick bit back his beaming smile. “Wow. Cheesy, much?”

Charlie slapped his thigh in retaliation before he moved to change gear as they rounded a corner. “Dickhead.”

Nick followed him, placing his hand on top of Charlie’s and lacing their fingers together loosely. He turned his head to look out of the window, watching as more clouds, trees and fields zoomed by behind him.

Yes, everything felt different on this journey compared with the one he had taken thirteen months ago. His year with Charlie had changed everything and nothing all at once. Nick was still the same person, still had the same career, still lived in the same city, and yet everything felt brand new. He liked that person for the first time in years and he had fallen back in love with that career and that city felt bright and brilliant with Charlie Spring in it.

After Charlie had arrived in London, their lives had intertwined quickly. When Nick took Charlie back to Elle’s exhibit a couple of days after all their talking was out of the way, the pair hit it off straight away. Elle felt like she knew Charlie already having seen so many of Nick’s photographs of him, something Nick tried and failed not to feel embarrassed about. Charlie had smiled and squeezed his arm and told him his blush was adorable, and that was that.

After Charlie’s third time meeting Elle, he had taken Nick aside and asked him a question in a hushed voice. “Is Elle single?”

Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. I’m right here, Char.”

“Shut up. Not for me, you imbecile. For Tao.”

“Oh,” Nick blinked. He had only met Tao once by that point, but he could kind of see it. “Charlie Spring, you might be a genius.”

“I’m aware, yes. Do you think she’d be interested? I know he’s been lonely but he’s so independent and ambitious and so is Elle, right? So maybe they could keep kicking arse in their fields like they are now just… with a little company, if they wanted it?”

And so Nick and Charlie meddled. They arranged a group dinner to celebrate the end of Elle’s very successful exhibit. Nick invited Tara and Darcy - who had also kept in touch with Elle - and Charlie invited Tao, and all of them had gone on a triple date that no one else knew was a triple date. Tao, as Charlie had predicted, was a stuttering mess the second he saw Elle. By the end of the night he had a deep blush on his face, Elle’s number in his phone and an extra tight hug for Charlie. Nick had watched it unfold with the stupidest grin on his face, reminding his boyfriend how brilliant he was at any given opportunity.

As the weeks passed, the six of them got together more and more until Nick started to wonder how they hadn’t all always been in each other’s lives. They fit together seamlessly, the six of them easing into a firm friendship that made Nick feel like he’d finally found his people. People he could go to see shitty local bands with and enjoy terribly made home-cooked meals with and who he could talk to about anything and everything. The first few months hadn’t always been easy and Nick had really needed them to lean on.

He hadn’t been naïve enough to think that everything would be sunshine and rainbows simply because Charlie lived in London now or because they loved each other. Charlie had been right; he had struggled to adapt to being in a couple after so long spent swearing off relationships. There was an adjustment period where Nick tried his best to give Charlie the time he needed but he was also struggling with old habits that he couldn’t always help. Charlie’s desire for space and Nick’s fear of being left weren’t exactly a match made in heaven. It took some work and a lot of reassurance, but soon enough they put some boundaries in place and talked through the worst of it.

So no, the year definitely hadn’t all been smooth sailing, but God had it been wonderful. Even in those tricky first months, Nick still laughed more and felt more alive than he had in so long. In between the hard times were magical, brilliant moments that Nick could only ever have dreamed of. Charlie loved fiercely and unconditionally, looking after Nick in ways he didn’t even know he’d needed or wanted. He was proud of Nick, proud of him for his job and for who he was and for every silly little picture he put up on his new photography Instagram. Charlie didn’t only tolerate the fact that Nick’s phone was full of pictures of him, but he encouraged it. And Nick? Well. He tried his best to be that same support right back, helping Charlie with all of the teaching experience he had and telling him the ins and outs of the processes schools had in place for different things. He held Charlie through the hard days of volunteering with vulnerable children and was the first to celebrate his breakthroughs. As the weeks passed, Nick realised that any tensions around needing space or stilted communication were becoming few and far between. He had stopped feeling so terrified when Charlie needed to stay at his own flat and Charlie stopped pushing him away when things were hard, and suddenly they started growing together rather than just somewhere alongside each other.

As Christmas approached, Nick and Charlie debated going back to Cornwall but ultimately agreed they would rather spend it with Sarah. Nick’s dickhead brother hadn’t been home for Christmas for years and Nick didn’t want to leave her alone. Sarah had met Charlie a handful of times since September and he had immediately become one of her favourite people, which absolutely did not make Nick emotional every time he thought about it.

Charlie had barely put Henry down for the whole four nights they were at Sarah’s house, carrying the little pug around as if they were sewn together. Nick watched them lovingly, but he still felt that familiar ache in his chest that crept in every time he came home. The corner of the living room where Nellie’s bed used to lie was empty and Sarah had put Henry’s food and water bowls in a different spot in the kitchen and nobody sat in Nellie’s favourite armchair by the window. Her absence was everywhere, but Nick couldn’t deny that Henry helped. He could certainly see how much he had helped Sarah and that would always mean the world to Nick.

Spending time with his mum and Henry over Christmas reignited Nick’s desire to have a dog of his own and by March, Charlie declared that he’d had enough of Nick’s whinging and took him to an animal rescue centre one weekend. The volunteer showing them around had taken them to see a puppy who had only recently arrived, a tiny little golden retriever who had been bought and returned within the week when the owners realised that they couldn’t handle such a young dog. Nick’s heart had hurt at the idea of anybody giving up on something so helpless because it was a little bit hard and he vowed to never do the same with anything in his life.

The volunteer led them to a crate and when she opened it and the puppy came scrambling out, Charlie immediately dropped onto his knees to greet her.

“So, this is Potato,” the woman told them, smiling when Nick did a double take.

“I’m sorry, her name is what?”

“Potato. The previous owner’s son named her and we loved it so much we had to keep it. She looks like a little potato, no?”

“Oh my God,” Charlie squeaked. He looked up at Nick from the floor where the little retriever was licking his face. Her whole body was wagging with the force of her joy. Nick’s heart squeezed in his chest at the sight of them. “Nick. Nick, I’m in love.”

And God, so was Nick. He was so in love. 

“Don’t give me that face, Nicholas. I meant with the dog.”

Nick grinned at him, feeling a little misty eyed all of a sudden. He knelt down beside Charlie and Potato and scratched behind her ears.

“She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”

“She’s perfect,” Charlie choked. “Can we get her?”

We . Can we get her?

Yeah. Nick was absolutely going to burst into tears if he didn’t deflect quickly.

“Um, we?” Nick asked. “This is my dog, don’t try to steal her from me.”

“This is my child, Nicholas. I birthed her and now I will raise her. I mean, you know, if you take her home and buy all her stuff and pick up her shit. Then I’ll raise her.”

Nick laughed loudly, the sound softening into a giggle when Potato licked his chin. “Oh, God. Yeah, let’s take her home.”

Home, it turned out, became somewhere new entirely only a few months after Nick adopted Potato. Charlie had ended up spending so many nights at Nick’s to help with looking after her that they started to wonder why he still kept anything at Tao’s at all. When the topic of actually moving in together came up, Nick had one condition.

“We can’t live here,” he’d said as Charlie teased Potato with a rope toy, dangling it just out of her reach.

Charlie had looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “We can’t both move in with Tao, Nick.”

“No, ew,” Nick scrunched up his nose. He had grown to love Tao very much, but Nick did not need to hear the guy having sex with one of his best friends every night. Gross. “No, I mean we should find somewhere else, somewhere that we choose together. Nobody moving into anyone else’s space, but a new start that belongs to both of us.”

Charlie had dropped the dog toy and given Nick his full attention, looking a little tearful. “Are you sure? This place is so convenient for your job and our friends are near and –”

“Char,” Nick stopped him. “Yes, I’m sure. Given your history, you feeling as if you have a home of your own is way more important than me having to commute an extra ten minutes or whatever else it might be.”

“Urgh, I hate you,” Charlie had whined, pushing himself off the floor to drop into Nick’s lap on the sofa, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Stop being so cute.”

“I love you too, nerd.”

And so a new flat it had been. They had managed to find another two bedroom place within their budget, only one stop further along on the tube line for Nick to get to work and even closer to the park they took Potato to. It even had a shitty little courtyard at the back – it wasn’t even big enough for both of them to stand out in, but it at least had enough space for Potato to go out to pee.

They filled the space with both of their belongings and things they had bought together, creating their own little home with their own little family. Potato – usually known as Totty, TitTatTot, Tater-Tot or Pottybum – had become far more attached to Charlie than anyone else. Nick couldn’t even bring himself to feel jealous when he’d come home from work and find his two loves curled up on the sofa together. They would both look up from their cosy spots, Charlie with a warm smile and Totty with her tail wagging wildly, and Nick would walk over and kiss them both hello as he marvelled how lucky he was to have them and to have their home.

Charlie loved their flat so much. He told Nick, whispering under the covers as they stayed up late into the night talking, that he had never known what home really felt like until the day the three of them moved in there. Nick had held him as he cried for all the other places he had stayed and all the other lives he had lived before this one, cried in relief at finally feeling comfortable. When he had calmed down, Nick peppered kisses all over his face to make him laugh.

“I still think we’ll end up in Cornwall, you know,” he’d said when they had both sobered again.

“Um. No?” Charlie replied, pinching at Nick’s side as he snuggled into him. “I’ve only just got settled, what are you trying to do to me?”

“Not soon. But maybe we’ll retire to Praa Sands one day. We could die in my little Airbnb flat like the old woman before me.”

Charlie scoffed. “If you plan on dying in Praa Sands, sweetheart, then it will not be with me by your side.”

“Hmm, we’ll see. I like my chances.”

“You’re delusional.”

“See, the thing is, I vividly remember you saying you would never swim in the sea with me. ‘Over my dead body’, I think were your exact words. And yet…” Nick nodded towards the bookshelf in the corner of their bedroom where an 8x10 print of Nick’s gallery photo was standing proudly in its frame.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Nick chuckled and squished Charlie tighter. Yeah, he was pretty sure they would end up back in Cornwall. Just as he was sure at the beginning of last summer that Charlie would end up in the sea with him.

It was almost like he knew him, or something.

“Alright daydreamer,” Charlie announced as the car came to a stop, breaking Nick out of his trip down memory lane. “We’re here.”

Nick looked up and realised they were parked outside Tori and Michael’s house - a house Nick still hadn’t been inside before. He smirked as he glanced back at Charlie.

“Right then. Have fun.”

Charlie raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Well I’m not allowed in, am I?” Nick said, wide eyed with faux innocence.

“Oh, you twat. Get out of the car and let my daughter out for a wee.”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s your daughter when she’s behaved and mine when she’s chewing through all your favourite socks, right?”

“You’re learning!" Charlie beamed. "Get moving, Nelson.”

Nick grumbled but did as he was told, groaning as his feet touched solid ground. It was such a long drive from London and he ached; his legs were scrunched up too tight and his back had been forced into all the wrong angles. And God, how old was he that he was complaining about his back?

Tori was waiting by the front door with hugs for them both and a slightly suspicious look at Totty. She was used to dogs considering where she lived, but Charlie explained that she was definitely a cat person.

“Go leave your things upstairs, I’ve got the kettle on,” Tori told them, ushering them up towards Charlie’s old room.

When they got inside, Nick was struck by how un-Charlie it was. The walls were painted a neutral white and everything else was just as plain. There were none of Charlie’s eclectic paintings on the walls and no clutter to drive Nick mad and definitely not a dozen of Nick’s jumpers strewn all over the place. Nick knew that it was a spare room now so of course it wouldn’t look like Charlie’s, but he honestly couldn’t ever imagine him living here.

“Wow. It hasn’t changed a bit,” Charlie marvelled quietly, his eyes darting around the space. His jaw was tight as he took it all in.

“You okay?” Nick asked.

“It’s a bit strange being here, but yeah. I’m okay. I’m glad you’re with me.”

“Yeah?” Nick smiled, snaking an arm around Charlie’s waist.

“Yes, don’t milk it,” Charlie said with a roll of his eyes. His expression softened as he leant into Nick and slid his hand up his chest, tugging lightly at the chain around his neck. Nick had been wearing it again ever since they officially moved in together – Charlie didn’t need that reminder that he had Nick's heart anymore. “Everything’s better when you’re with me.”

Sap, Nick thought with a grin. Charlie was as disgustingly sweet as he accused Nick of being, even if he would always deny it.

Nick buried his nose into Charlie’s hair and inhaled. “Feeling is mutual,” he murmured, leaving a kiss in his favourite curls to seal his words.

Nick woke up to the sun streaming in through the thin curtains of Tori’s spare room. It was still weird being in here, a place in which Charlie felt safe but never truly comfortable. He couldn’t imagine how strange it would’ve been for Charlie to have him here.

With a whine, Charlie rolled over and threw an arm over Nick’s waist, pressing his face into his bicep. He mumbled something that Nick couldn’t quite catch – he was almost fluent in 'Charlie' these days but not even a world champion could understand Charlie when he first woke up. He was not a morning person.

“Try again, darling,” Nick encouraged, sliding a hand into Charlie’s hair and scratching gently at his scalp.

“Sun.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah. Mad, innit? Sunshine in Cornwall, who would’ve thought?”

Charlie huffed against his arm and dug his nails into Nick’s side. “We should go swimming.”

Nick pulled away enough so he could look down at Charlie’s face. “What?”

“Sun. Sea. Swim.”

“The new live, laugh, love?” Nick teased. “I would fucking love to go swimming, Char, I just didn’t expect you to.”

“Tot has never been to the beach. I want to be in the sea with both of my favourite people.”

“Totty isn’t people.”

Charlie jerked back with an offended scowl on his face. “Do not talk about my daughter like that or you will no longer be one of my favourites.”

Right on cue there was a whimper from the corner of the room and some shuffling as Potato sat up on her bed and looked around her. She yapped when she realised she wasn’t at home, the new surroundings throwing her off.

Charlie, despite being half catatonic moments before, dove out of the bed to comfort her.

“It’s okay, Tater-Tot,” he said in his babiest of baby voices, cradling her tiny, confused face in his hands. “Daddy’s here.”

Nick snorted like he did every time Charlie called himself that.

“Shut up over there, daddy issues,” Charlie shot, scooping Potato into his arms and carrying her back over to the bed. He plopped her down on the duvet and she snuffled her way over to Nick, her little paws scrambling on the covers as she tried to reach his face to give him good morning kisses.

“Hello my darling Potty-bum,” he cooed, scratching behind her ears and kissing all over her perfect, soft face.

“Right, but I’m the weirdo,” Charlie muttered, crawling back into bed and curling into Nick's side.

Nick lifted an arm to wrap around Charlie, his other hand still petting Potato. He sighed happily, tilting his head to drop a kiss onto Charlie's head.

“Love you,” he whispered.

“Love you,” Charlie responded, and everything felt right in the world.

After another small doze, Nick and Charlie gathered their towels and clothes and Totty’s favourite ball. They wrestled her into her harness and then made their way down the hill towards Sundance. Nick could tell that Charlie was anxious about it – Nick was too, if he was honest – so he squeezed his hand and raised an eyebrow when Charlie looked back at him.

“I’m fine,” Charlie assured him. “It’s just… weird, being back here. Home but never really home. I both miss it and couldn’t imagine anything worse than still living half a life here.”

“Well you’re not doing that, are you? You’re fucking smashing being the best person a child could ever hope to have supporting them.”

Charlie smiled and swayed into his side. “Obviously. I am very brilliant.”

“Factually correct.”

“It’s still strange though,” he continued, slowing down to a stop as they reached the bottom of the hill. Nick realised with a jolt that they were outside the flat he had stayed in the year prior, the flat that held so many memories and so much pain and so much joy.

“Oh,” he uttered, his stomach sinking as he looked up at the balcony that they had sat on so many times last summer.

All he could think about was that last night they had spent there, when they’d said goodbye and thought it would be forever. Tears sprung to Nick’s eyes as he remembered throwing himself into his car at stupid o’clock the morning after, desperate to put some distance between himself and that awful feeling.

“Nick,” Charlie exhaled, tugging at his hand until Nick turned to face him. He went up on his tiptoes and kissed Nick soundly, fingers stroking delicately across his cheek. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah. We’re more than okay.”

“Correct. We’re fucking fantastic,” Charlie agreed. “Come on, we have a whole room of nosy locals awaiting our arrival in that god forsaken café.”

Totty huffed happily when they started walking again, trying to pull Nick along faster by tugging on her lead. She wasn’t quite strong enough to move him yet, but he thought it was a close call now. She’d be winning the tug of war in no time.

Sundance was packed when they got there, crowds spilling out onto the terrace. Nick didn’t remember ever seeing it like that last year, but then he didn’t think he’d had a day as glorious as this one in his whole stay the previous year. Totty lurched forward to greet the other dogs who were milling about, sniffing at them and nudging against their owners’ ankles. When she wouldn’t let them get through the front door, Charlie bent down to pick her up - something else they wouldn’t be able to do for too much longer.

As they headed inside, a cry of his name snapped Nick’s attention away from Charlie and Totty. He turned just in time to catch Imogen as she crashed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders.

“Ohmygod, I can’t believe you’re actually here!” she squealed as she jumped away from Nick and turned to Charlie instead. “Potato!”

Nick laughed as she fussed over the puppy before gathering Charlie into a hug around Totty’s fluffy little body.

“Hi, Immy. We missed you,” Charlie grinned.

Imogen had been to visit them once in London, right after Nick had taken Potato home for the first time. She had been nagging them for daily pictures ever since, calling herself Auntie Immy and sending dog toys through the post every other week.

“We really missed you,” Nick added, feeling grateful for her friendship yet again.

“Here, hold your niece,” Charlie said, passing Totty into Imogen’s arms. “I’m going to tell Tori we’re here.”

Nick watched him go with a fond smile and when he turned back to Imogen, she made a disgusted face.

“What?”

“Are you ever going to stop looking at him like that? It’s nauseating. You’ll put people off their breakfast.”

Nick shook his head, ready to tell her very firmly that no, he probably never would stop looking at Charlie like that, but he was interrupted by a loud bark by the door. He turned and lost his breath for a split second when he saw Nellie – no, not Nellie, Poppy – barrelling towards him. He had forgotten just how alike they were, especially after not seeing Poppy for over a year. He crouched down as she reached him, her paws coming up onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her and she licked all over his face.

“Oh, Poppy, enough of your nonsense. It’s only Nick, for goodness sake,” a voice chastised, and Nick looked up to see Mrs Hewitt standing over them. “Get up here then, you silly boy.”

Nick did, barely holding back a sob as he stood and wrapped her up in a hug. God, he’d missed her. She had done so much for him last year and he’d missed her very much.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said as they squeezed each other until Poppy yapped again, ready for the attention to be back on her. Nick knelt down again, looking into those eyes he loved so much. He leant his forehead against hers and whispered, “Hey, Nells.” Poppy nudged her head against his in response.

Mrs Hewitt and Nick carefully introduced Poppy to Potato after all the hugs were out of the way, Nick almost bursting into tears when they started nudging their noses together happily. They scuffled about under the table while their humans ate breakfast and drank copious amounts of coffee, catching up and laughing loudly. Michael joined them when his shift started, waving off the regular customers waiting for their coffees and throwing an arm around Nick.

“It’s good to have you back in our little spot, Purely Platonic Nick,” he beamed.

Charlie choked on his coffee. “Excuse me, who?”

“It’s what I used to call him when he’d come in here and stare at you all day and then tell me you two weren’t together.”

“Michael!” Charlie hissed as Nick snorted. “I knew I had to watch Tori but et tu, Brute?”

Nick nudged his shoulder into Michael’s and told him it was good to be back.

It was good to be back. After his slightly shaky moment in front of his old Airbnb, Sundance had reminded him of all the things he had loved about being here. The cosy atmosphere, the welcoming community, the safe space. There was nowhere quite like this in London, or anywhere that Nick had lived before. Cornwall was special in that way and Praa Sands would always hold a piece of his heart. Charlie talked a lot about how this town had healed him, but it had stitched together so many of Nick’s open wounds too. It deserved more credit than he gave it sometimes.

After breakfast – yet another masterpiece from Tori, Nick really had missed her cooking – Nick and Charlie split from the group to take Potato down onto the sand. They hadn’t managed to take her out of London before so she had never seen a beach, and her expression when her paws first sunk into the golden grains was priceless.

She pranced about, not quite knowing what to do with her growing limbs, face planting into the sand more often than landing properly. Charlie bounced about with her, encouraging her to jump over the stream of water running down to the sea and laughing every time she stumbled. Nick reached into his bag for his Canon, which had had far more use in the last year than his old Nikon got in the ten years he owned it. He snapped pictures of his loves all the way down to the water, shaking his head at Charlie’s ridiculous poses and nearly tripping over his own feet when Charlie had given him a look that suggested he very much wanted to take Nick right back home again.

Christ. Nick didn’t think he’d ever get over how that particular look made him feel.

Once she was thoroughly tired out, Nick ran Totty back up to Sundance to leave her with Imogen. She had demanded time with her favourite creature and who was Nick to deny the two sets of puppy dog-eyes that turned on him at the request?

He met Charlie back on the beach where he was squinting through Nick’s camera lens, snapping a few of his own pictures. He turned it on Nick as he got closer and Nick posed in all the ways he’d seen Charlie do, hamming it up as Charlie giggled at his idiocy. Nick kissed him quickly and grabbed his hand and together they wandered along towards Hendra Beach, where the hoards of touristy beachgoers dwindled into a handful of locals. They settled in a sheltered spot by the cliff edge and laid out their towels and bags.

“Right,” Charlie announced, standing up straight and stripping his t-shirt right off. “Sea?”

Nick was momentarily distracted by the sight of his boyfriend’s bare chest, golden in the sunlight. He couldn’t even count how many times he had seen this sight over the last year and it still left him breathless.

“Nicholas,” Charlie scowled. “My eyes are up here.”

“Yes! Yeah. Um. I know – uh. I knew that.”

“Woow,” Charlie mouthed, taking a few steps towards Nick and looking up at him. “It’s like I’ve been transported back to last summer. Where has my partner gone and who is this bumbling mess of a man I see before me?”

“Fuck off,” Nick managed, feeling a little choked all of a sudden. “I – fuck. I think I might actually have gone back in time.”

Charlie’s smile melted into something fond and he gripped onto Nick’s t-shirt as he moved right up against him. “I kind of get it, actually. Being back here with you – it’s funny. It kind of feels like it did then. I feel, like, giddy and nervous and weird.”

“Yeah. Like, without all the uncertainty and confusion, but still – I don’t know. Like I’m on the edge of my seat. It’s odd.”

When Charlie pushed up to kiss him, it felt like the first time all over again. They grabbed at each other and held tight, their mouths hot and needy. It probably wasn’t appropriate for the beach in broad daylight and Nick laughed into the kiss until Charlie moved away with a glare.

“Rude. That was some of my best work.”

“Save it for later, yeah? You promised me a swim.”

Charlie grumbled about Nick being a tease, but he watched carefully as Nick lifted his own shirt over his head and smirked when Nick gave him a flat look.

“What? You’re not letting me touch but you can’t stop me looking.”

Nick reached for him and brought him in close, pressing Charlie against his sweaty body and cackling when Charlie screeched and tried to get free.

“Nope. You’re trapped here forever.”

When Charlie stopped squirming, he gazed up at Nick and smiled. “Hmm. I can think of worse places to be trapped.”

Nick couldn’t help himself, he had to kiss Charlie again for that. It was softer this time though, slower. He savoured every second of it until Charlie pulled back with a dreamy sigh.

“You’re trying to murder me,” he accused, his palm rubbing up and down Nick’s back as he nuzzled his nose against his jaw. “Stop being pretty and nice, it’s annoying.”

“Please, you love me,” Nick shot back. “And I really fucking love you.”

“Really fucking love you too, you loser. Now come on, time to swim.”

Charlie moved back properly and held his hand out. Nick took it, letting their fingers tangle together.

“Ready?” he asked, facing towards the water.

“Ready,” Charlie replied, squeezing his hand once before dropping it. “Race you!”

“That’s not fair!” Nick called after him as Charlie sped off, already halfway across the sand by the time Nick started moving.

Nick pushed forward as fast as he could, desperate to catch up with Charlie before he reached the sea. Charlie must’ve taken pity on him though because he slowed and waited for him at the shoreline, a wild smile lighting up his gorgeous eyes. When Nick caught up to him, Charlie grinned and they ran the rest of the way into the sea together.

Nick didn’t know it yet, but that wouldn’t be the last summer they spent in Praa Sands. They would come back year after year, trying to coordinate it with Michael’s annual bonfire so that they could catch up with as many people as possible.

In four years time, that very bonfire party would turn into a wedding. Sarah would come with them and meet everyone she’d heard so many stories about. Nick would cry when she hugged Mrs Hewitt and thanked her for looking after her boy when he needed it most. The whole gang from London would come and explore the glorious Cornish beaches and spend the party becoming best friends with everyone they met. Henry, Poppy and Totty would bounce about the beach, jumping on each other and yapping in delight.

In four years time, Nick would hold Charlie’s hands while Michael led the ceremony, calling him Purely Platonic Nick as Tori rolled her eyes from beside them.

In four years time, Charlie would gaze back at him with tears in his eyes and vow;

“I do, Photo Boy.”

For now though, Nick pushed through the waves with his love by his side, laughing when Charlie squealed about how cold the water was and clutched onto Nick’s arm to steady himself.

For now, Nick just lived.

Chapter Text

Feels like we've lived a hundred lives before
Together and then decided on one more
For what it's worth, I'd die with you again
A hundred more times multiplied by ten

Soul mate, soul mate, soul mate
Won't you dance here with me while it grows late?
Put your head on my chest, that's your safe place
We'll fall deeper in love every day

🌊🌊🌊

Nick had driven this road countless times before now and he felt more at home every time he did. He and Charlie had been spending a couple of weeks of their summers in Praa Sands ever since they had met there, and this one was no different. Except that it was completely different, actually. It was going to be the most special holiday they’d had so far, possibly the most special holiday they would ever have.

He turned his head to look at Charlie in the passenger seat. He had his eyes closed and he was breathing softly in his sleep, his face angled towards Nick. He looked so peaceful, so lovely. Nick could, and had many times, look at him for hours. He checked the rear-view mirror and saw Potato sitting up by the cracked open window in the backseat, all strapped in in her harness. She looked like she was watching the world go by outside her window, happy and content as ever.

Nick’s heart clenched in his chest. God, he really fucking loved his little family.

It was dark by the time Nick pulled up outside the flat. They hadn’t left their own place until much later than planned – between a work emergency for Charlie and a very energetic Potato refusing to come back after her walk, it had all been a bit chaotic. Charlie had fallen asleep about half an hour into their nearly six-hour journey, woken up for an hour in the middle, and then slept again the rest of the way.

Usually they would have split the driving, but Nick didn’t mind too much. Charlie had just made it through an extremely stressful period at work whereas Nick had already been off school for a couple of weeks, so he was in a much better place for the drive. Besides, Nick thought, this holiday was special. He probably would’ve driven from London to Cornwall twice over in the middle of the night if it meant Charlie was well rested for it.

Charlie woke up and blinked confusedly as Nick parked. He turned his head to look at Nick and his frown softened into a smile. Nick would never, ever get tired of the way a sleepy Charlie looked at him.

“Fuck, are we here?” Charlie asked hoarsely, stretching his arms as far as he could in the cramped car. It was much bigger than Nick’s little old Fiat, but it was still, well, a car. “I’m sorry. You should have woken me.”

Nick shrugged. “You needed the sleep.”

“Hmm, well, now I have a sore neck and I’ll never sleep tonight so thanks a lot, arsehole.”

Nick would usually sass him right back, but he honestly didn’t have it in him to do anything other than smile dopily back at his boyfriend.

No, not boyfriend. Fiancé.

“Well, it’s still warm,” Nick said. “I thought we could go for an amble along the beach? I need to stretch my legs, you need to loosen up your neck, and Little Miss TottyBum will thank us for the run, too.”

Nick watched as Charlie opened his mouth to say something snarky and call him ridiculous for wanting an 11pm walk, but he seemed to catch himself before it came. Instead, he reached across the car to squeeze Nick’s hand and nodded.

Praa Sands Beach was as empty as to be expected this late on a Wednesday night. They glanced over at Sundance as they made their way down the hill to the sand and Nick felt his insides flip. It was closed and dark for the night but he absolutely could not wait to get back inside it first thing tomorrow.

They let Totty off her lead and she bounded off ahead of them. The beach never really got dark, not with the moonlight reflecting off the sea and the houses lit up on the hill above, so they could still see where they were going as they walked slowly hand-in-hand along the shoreline.

Nick inhaled the salty air, closing his eyes and letting it back out slowly. God, there was nothing like the beach. Especially after being cramped up in London all year where all you could smell was piss and misery.

“I fucking love being back here,” Nick said, breaking their comfortable silence.

“I know you do. But no, we are not moving here.”

“Charlieee,” Nick whined, playing his part perfectly.

Of course he knew they weren’t moving to Cornwall. Not yet anyway. Charlie’s career as an Education Mental Health Practitioner was in full swing and, as hard as it was, he fucking loved what he did. Nick loved his current school too and was absolutely not ready to leave it. Still, he was very firmly on team Nick and Charlie Move to Cornwall in The Next 10-15 years.

“Idiot,” Charlie shot, and Nick grinned and tightened his grip on his hand.

They turned back around halfway along the beach when Charlie started to shiver. He was already wearing the only hoodie Nick had brought with him from the car, so his only choice to provide warmth was to wrap both arms around Charlie’s waist from behind and walk them both forward awkwardly.

As he took in their surroundings, their favourite beach, the place they had first fallen in love, Nick nosed behind Charlie’s ear and sighed happily. He was so happy to be here, with his Charlie and their Potato. He was just so, so happy.

“Three days,” Nick breathed, his lips in Charlie’s curls.

“Three days,” Charlie whispered back. It sounded like a promise.

No. It sounded like a vow.

When they got back up to the flat, they didn’t even bother unpacking most of their stuff. They grabbed the suitcase that Nick knew had their overnight stuff in along with Charlie’s laptop bag and Nick’s camera bag and made their way up the familiar steps to a familiar front door.

Usually when Nick and Charlie came back to Praa Sands they stayed with Tori and Michael. They felt  as much like family to Nick now as Charlie did and they usually loved the slightly chaotic mornings as his brother-and-sister-in-law ran around getting ready to open Sundance and Potato jumped about with them, thinking they were playing. This was different, though. They needed their privacy for this trip and so Nick had done something he didn’t ever think he would: he had booked the same Airbnb he had when he’d come to Praa Sands for the first time five years ago.

They’d talked about whether it would be too weird or too sad to be back there considering the last time, but ultimately nostalgia had won out. Besides, it had hurt so much the last time they had been there because they thought they were losing each other for good. This time, they were safe in the knowledge that they were forever.

Letting themselves in still felt weird. Charlie gripped tightly onto Nick’s hand with one of his as the other held Totty’s lead. Nick had their bags hooked over on his free arm and awkwardly manoeuvred it so he could unlock the door without letting go of Charlie.

He was hit with a wave of nostalgia as they walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. It looked exactly the same as it had the last time they’d been here and it made Nick’s chest ache. When he glanced over at the living area he could still see their slightly younger selves on the sofa, Charlie curled up on his lap. He could still see Charlie with his headphones in, tapping out a beat on the balcony table as his head bobbed. He could still see himself asleep on the other sofa after the first night he and Charlie had ever been together, hurting so badly because he thought Charlie had regretted what happened. He could see every moment of pain from that summer and, even better, every moment of joy. There they were in the kitchen, Charlie’s arms around his waist and his face burrowed in Nick’s back as Nick made them breakfast. They were pressed up against the wall by the door with their shirts hanging off them, unable or unwilling to make it to the bedroom. They were lounging on the floor with Nick’s head in Charlie’s lap as Charlie read out loud from his favourite book. This was the place where they always felt safe, where they could be totally themselves with each other.

“You okay?” Charlie asked him, letting go of Totty’s lead and sliding his newly free hand down to cup their already joined ones.

Totty went scrambling across the room to sniff every inch of it, getting used to her new surroundings. Nick smiled at her and then turned that smile on Charlie.

“Yeah. It’s part of us, isn’t it? This place.”

Charlie’s expression softened and he nodded. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

🌊🌊🌊 

Nick woke up at the crack of dawn the next day. He could really have done with another two hours of sleep. Between the long drive yesterday and then Charlie trying to fuck the bad memories of their last time together in this flat out of him before they went to sleep, Nick really needed the rest.

He was too excited to sleep though. So many people he loved were currently right across the road in one of his favourite places ever and he wanted to see them as soon as possible. Totty clearly felt the same – she loved it here, loved the beach and the freedom she had to run. She was on their bed and licking his face by 7am.

Nick got up to feed her and play with her while Charlie slept, but he only managed to leave him until 8. Charlie was not best pleased at being woken up, groaning and pulling the duvet over his face and telling Nick he was going to dump him. Those threats had kind of lost their weight after half a decade together.

“Char. There’s coffee at Sundance. And Tori and Michael and Imogen and Mrs. Hewitt and Poppy and –”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Charlie huffed, batting at Nick’s hand when he went to tickle him. When he emerged from his duvet cocoon, his hair was frizzy and wild and his eyes barely open. “When are you going to start calling her Natasha instead of Mrs. Hewitt?”

Nick ignored that because Charlie already knew that would never happen. He got up from the bed and tugged the duvet fully off Charlie. “Come on, grumpus. Up, shower, coffee. Totty wants her papa to take her to the beach.”

As he started to walk back towards the hallway, Charlie shouted after him. “You can’t talk to dogs, Nick. Dogs can’t talk!”

“Totty says she can hear you, arsehole!”

Potato raced ahead of them as soon as she was out of the front door - thank fuck she knew what roads and cars were. She knew exactly where she was going, running towards the steps that took her down to the beach. By the time Nick and Charlie caught up with her, she was drinking water out of the stream leading down to the sea. Yuck.

“Come on, Tater Tot,” Charlie cooed, melting as she sprinted over to him and nuzzled into his leg. Grumpy dad or not, Charlie became a puddle every time Totty showed him any kind of affection. Which was a lot, considering he was her favourite.

The three of them walked along to Sundance together, Nick barely able to stop his pace speeding up the closer they got. As if she knew they were coming, Poppy was sitting on the terrace outside and nearly sent a tourist flying when she spotted them coming up the steps. Nick nearly lost it when her and Totty ran to each other, tails wagging and mouths biting happily at each other in greeting. The cutest best friends he had ever seen, that was for sure.

“What time do you call this?” a voice chastised, and Nick turned to see Michael stepping out the door, wiping his hands on his black Sundance t-shirt.

He pulled them both into a hug at the same time, his stupidly long arms holding them both close until a cough came from behind them and he stepped aside to reveal a glaring Tori.

“Please release my brother,” she drawled, stepping into Michael’s place.

Nick smiled as Tori and Charlie held each other close. He could see Charlie’s muscles tensing with how tight he was hugging her and he had to look away before he burst into tears like he did every time he was lucky enough to witness the Spring siblings together. His own reunion with Mrs. Hewitt was as emotional as it always was too, their hug tight as they swayed on the spot.

They settled on one of the long tables against the wall inside with the usual gang, Imogen joining them later too and immediately stealing Totty for a play on the beach. Nick looked around the room and remembered that the very next day their London friends would be here too. His heart had never felt so full.

Later in the afternoon after Tori begged off work and kidnapped Charlie for a proper catch up, Nick had taken Michael’s house keys and headed up the hill to the familiar home with Totty. His excited energy was at an all-time high as he paced their hallway, checking his watch every few minutes.

After what seemed like years, Nick bounced with excitement in the doorway when he saw a little blue Mini Cooper turn into Tori and Michael’s driveway. Potato was next to him, feeding off his energy and panting with the force of her tail wags. Nick patted her absently on the head as the car door opened and out stepped one of their favourite people in the world.

He jumped off the front step and ran to greet her but Totty beat him to it, nearly knocking the poor woman over in her joy. Nick could hear barking coming from the boot of the car and he laughed loudly.

“Nicky!” his mum cried, finally peeling her eyes away from Totty just in time for Nick to wrap her up in the tightest hug ever.

Nick and Charlie saw Sarah all the time. She wasn’t far from them in the grand scheme of things and they had a fortnightly Sunday lunch arrangement that they never missed. Still, Nick had never had her here before, in the place that meant so much to him. Where he had transformed, where his life had changed, where he had learned to love himself again. He was teary eyed when they pulled back from their hug and so was his mum. He was pretty sure she was equally as grateful for Praa Sands as he himself would always be.

After getting Sarah and Henry settled in Tori and Michael’s spare room, the four of them slowly walked back down the hill. They caught up as best they could in the ten minutes it took, Henry and Totty wiggling happily in front of them. Sarah had one arm linked through Nick’s and Nick had his hand over her own that was resting on his arm, squeezing as they got closer to the beach and his nerves kicked in.

Nick had arranged to meet Mrs. Hewitt and Poppy outside Sundance. He didn’t know why he was as nervous as he was; they were just going for a dog walk along the beach, it wasn’t a big deal. Except it totally was because he was introducing two of his favourite people for the first time and that was fucking scary. He wished Charlie was here, but Nick had waved off his offer of moral support and told him to enjoy a nice lunch out catching up with his sister. The idiot that he was.

He spotted them quickly at one of the outdoor tables and Mrs. Hewitt waved a hand above her head as she shuffled out of the bench seat to greet them. When she smiled a huge smile in greeting and Sarah hauled her right into a hug, Nick had to clamp a hand over his mouth so he didn’t sob out loud. He let the tears gather in his eyes at the sight of two women who had helped him beyond belief over the years finally meeting, but he refused to fucking howl like a baby in public. No. He would do that later with Charlie in the privacy of their own little flat, thank you very much.

🌊🌊🌊

The next day, Nick and Michael headed into Penzance to pick up the usual supplies for the annual beach party while Charlie stayed back to be on Friend-Pick-Up-Duty. Tara, Darcy, Elle and Tao were arriving on the same train from London and Isaac and Charlie’s brother Olly were getting in around an hour later on their respective trains. Charlie would pick up the London lot, take them to their Airbnb, and then go back for the other two. He had been bouncing with excitement all morning, desperate to have his loved ones back in Cornwall and to show Tara and Darcy around for the first time.

The whole day passed in a blur of reunions and hugs and laughter. The London gang disappeared in the afternoon to go to Lands End, despite Nick and Charlie warning them repeatedly that the tourist trap wasn’t worth it. Nick had gone through to the back of Sundance with Michael to get bottles and food and firewood all packed up for the party while Charlie had gone back up to Tori’s with her, Olly and Totty to get him settled in and to have a proper family catch up.

“I’ll never get used to what it's like when all three of them are together,” Michael had commented as they worked. “Like a pack of hyenas but only one of them has any energy.”

Nick had snorted at the accuracy. Michael was right, the two of them often ended up in a different room when all three Spring siblings were together because they couldn’t keep up. Golden Retriever Partners Anonymous, or whatever it was Olly had taken to calling them.

There wasn’t all that much to get ready, really. They would drive everything they packed up along to Hendra beach the next morning and everything would be as it usually was with these parties. They would set up the drinks table and start the fire and the locals would gather around and everything would be normal. Until…

Until Michael would shout for everyone’s attention and Nick and Charlie would smile conspiratorially and Tori would roll her eyes and Sarah would reach into her bag for a tissue.

Nick and Charlie had never needed much of a conversation about what they wanted out of their wedding. Nick had known very early on in their relationship that Charlie was it for him and the first time he’d said that out loud, Charlie had kicked him in the shin and called him a sappy bastard but eventually relented and whispered ditto, punctuated by a kiss to Nick’s chin.

The subject of marriage hadn’t specifically come up, but they had started talking about the rest of their lives after that. By their fourth anniversary, Nick had started feeling the word husband on the tip of his tongue whenever he introduced Charlie to someone and Charlie had started to joke about not wanting to wear matching suits when they got married because ew, Nick, cringe. That year when they had come to Praa Sands and attended Michael and Tori’s annual bonfire at Hendra Beach, they had slipped away together to sit in the sand and check in with each other like they always did at parties.

“You know,” Charlie had started. “I’ve always loved these parties. They feel so warm and cosy and – I just – I love all the locals coming together and getting to see all our Cornwall people in the same place every year. See the dogs all running around and playing and seeing Imogen watching out for the new, lovesick tourists.”

Nick had nudged him in the ribs for that one and scowled when Charlie giggled.

“I mean it. They’re my favourite kind of parties. Sometimes I think – this is stupid, but sometimes I imagine us taking over one of them. Instead of planning a huge wedding, you know, when we’re ready to get married, and instead of spending a year’s salary on a party in London, we could steal Michael’s party. Say some vows, have some drinks with our friends, watch our baby girl run around and splash in the sea. I think that would be my perfect wedding.”

The instant he’d said it, a montage of images flashed through Nick’s brain. The two of them walking hand in hand through the shallow water in their rolled-up suit trousers, their friends drinking beers and yelling congratulations at them, his mum chatting with Mrs. Hewitt and Totty, Henry and Poppy running around together and yapping in joy. Suddenly, Nick had never wanted anything more in his whole entire life than the exact wedding Charlie had just described.

“Yes,” he’d breathed, watching Charlie turn a surprised expression on him. “Let’s do that. All of it. Charlie, it’s – please.”

And that was that. On their drive back to London that year, with Potato snoring away in the back of their car, Nick and Charlie had agreed to turn the following year’s bonfire party into their wedding. The six-hour journey had flown by as they’d imagined how the dogs would cause chaos and mused over how many people they would tell and who they would surprise. Nick had never been happier.

They didn’t do engagement presents or rings, instead deciding to wait until their wedding and they barely told anyone about the plan. Tori and Michael, obviously, and Charlie’s brother Olly who had become somewhat obsessed with Nick over the years. They told Sarah first, laughing tearfully as she held them both and cried her excitement at them. Nick hadn’t been able to keep it from Mrs. Hewitt either, telling her on the first phone call they’d had since the decision had been made and cringing when Charlie threw a pillow at him in exasperation. Other than that, it would be a surprise for everyone. They had managed to convince their friends that they wanted to show them Cornwall and after a stressful year for everyone they had readily agreed to a group holiday. Nick couldn’t bloody wait to see their faces when Michael gathered everyone around the bonfire.

“Are you ready?” Michael asked, breaking Nick out of his reverie.

Nick grinned in response. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my life.”

Nick was making a cup of tea when Charlie got home that evening. He called a hello and moments later, Charlie was sliding up behind Nick and wrapping his arms around his waist. He mumbled his reply into Nick’s back and Nick chuckled.

“Everything okay, my love?”

Charlie hummed and turned his head to the side, his palms flat against Nick’s stomach. “I miss you. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you since we got here.”

Nick turned in the circle of Charlie’s arms and reached up to cup his face, squishing dimpled cheeks between his palms. “Gay.”

“Fuck off.”

Nick laughed and secured his arms around Charlie properly, hugging him close. “I’ve missed you too. But now Imogen has Totty for the night, we have no more preparations or pick ups to do, we can just… be, for a little while.”

“Thank fuck. I know we didn’t really want tomorrow to be about us to everyone else, but I still only want to hang out with you. We usually get way more time to ourselves here.”

“We will, darling. After tomorrow, we can go on our little adventures with our wee Potato and just be us again. Except, you know, with me calling you my husband at every given opportunity.”

Charlie pulled back to reveal his beautiful smile, his eyes shining as he looked up at Nick. “Husband. Fucking hell, I really can’t wait to call you that.”

“Me too, Char.”

They stood like that for a while, arms around each other and gazing at each other. Eventually, Nick leant forward to press a quick kiss to Charlie’s lips, breaking the moment.

“One last walk as not-quite-husbands?” he suggested, and Charlie beamed in response.

Nick held Charlie’s hand as he helped him up onto the rock and he settled down with Nick’s denim jacket underneath him. Charlie smiled back at him as Nick climbed up too. Once he was comfy, he looked out over the gorgeous turquoise water.

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the sun. Seagulls squawked around them and the waves lapped lazily against the shore and Nick felt so at peace, so content. He could see the end of the beach from their spot, all the way to the cliffs of Hendra Beach where they would stand tomorrow in front of all their friends and family and vow to love each other forever.

“This is my favourite place in the world,” he murmured, turning his head to look at Charlie.

Charlie. His best friend, his partner, his support, his family, his very soon to be husband. Charlie, in his old Sundance hoodie and a green beanie he’d stolen from Nick because let’s be real, it looked a hundred times better on him. Charlie, with his curls peeking out and threatening to cover one of his eyes and his skin tanned from the summer sun. Charlie, all sharp features and a soft heart, who trusted Nick to love him and loved Nick right back.

“I’m obsessed with you,” Nick blurted, unable to keep all the feelings from bubbling up out of him.

Charlie laughed loudly, pressing a palm into Nick’s face and turning his head away. “You’re awful. Stop talking.”

“I don’t think I will, actually,” Nick argued, dodging Charlie’s hand. “In fact, I think I’ll tell you that you’re my favourite person ever and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t wait to be your husband and brag about you all the fucking time to anyone who will listen to me. I can’t wait to raise a hundred doggy children with you. And, on that subject, Totty is getting lonely. She told me. She would love a sibling.”

“Oh, yeah? She said that, did she?”

“Yes. We had some really deep chats while you were asleep in the car on the way down. She said she wants to live by the sea and have at least three brothers or sisters.”

“Nicholas Luke Nelson, we are not moving to –”

Nick cut off the end of the sentence with a kiss. Charlie laughed against his lips but his hand found its way to the back of Nick’s head, his fingers curling into the short hairs there. When they pulled away they were both still smiling ridiculous smiles and Nick felt like he might float right up into the perfect blue sky and drift away with the seagulls.

“And my name is very almost Nicholas Luke Nelson-Spring, thank you very much.”

Charlie’s eyes went a little dark at that. “Why is that so hot? It’s just a name.”

“It’s not just a name though, is it? It’s a future.”

Charlie glared at him for a moment, shaking his head minutely. After a moment, he turned and climbed right into Nick’s lap. He straddled his thighs, his arms coming up to loop around his neck to drag him into a heated kiss. Nick squeaked in surprise but adjusted quickly, his hands drifting up to grip at Charlie’s waist. They stayed like that for a while, Nick fingers slipping up under Charlie’s hoodie and Charlie’s deft fingers massaging against Nick’s scalp while they kissed and kissed and kissed.

“Home,” Charlie gasped eventually as he leant back for air.

Nick tipped forward blindly, chasing Charlie’s lips. He whined as Charlie lifted himself off Nick and shakily got to his feet, gathering up discarded coats and hoodies and caps as he went.

“Come on, soon-to-be-husband. Come and fuck me one last time as fiancés.”

And, well. Nick was hardly going to say no to that, was he?

Charlie was undressing Nick before they had even closed the front door behind them. He dumped their jackets on the ground and dropped Nick’s Vans t-shirt on top of the pile, dragging Nick closer by his belt loops. Nick crashed into him as he pushed Charlie’s hoodie up to get to the smooth, silky skin of his stomach, his chest, anywhere he could reach.

“You still want me to fuck you?” Nick breathed as they broke apart so Charlie could get his jumper over his head.

“Please,” Charlie begged.

“Fuck yeah,” Nick exhaled. He felt a bit gross from spending most of his day on the beach though, sticky with sweat and suncream and sand in places where sand should never be. “Quick shower first?”

Quick shower was a stupid thing to say, as it turned out. The second Nick had Charlie in the large space, wet and naked and beautiful, he knew they wouldn’t make it as far as the bed. What had started as washing Charlie’s hair had turned into Nick’s hands massaging his scalp, his neck, his shoulders, down each arm slowly, all while Charlie sighed contentedly and leaned back into Nick’s chest. Nick flattened his hands at Charlie’s sides and slid them around to his stomach, pulling him closer still. Nick moved one hand upwards to splay across Charlie’s rib cage while the other drifted downwards. Charlie groaned and let his head fall back onto Nick’s shoulder as Nick took him in hand, touching him lazily and teasingly. When Charlie turned his head to press light kisses at Nick’s jaw, Nick’s hand tightened and he actually put some effort in. He knew Charlie would have plenty to say if he didn’t.

Soon enough, Charlie was letting out all of Nick’s favourite noises and then turning in his arms, capturing Nick’s mouth in a desperate kiss. Nick sighed happily into it and reached back down for Charlie as Charlie reached for him too. It might not have been the slow, romantic sex he had envisioned for the night before their wedding, but Nick figured that was okay. Sex didn’t always have to be slow and sensual and romantic anymore. Sometimes mutual hand jobs in a shower did the job well enough.

They fell into bed afterwards, curled into each other with damp hair soaking their shared pillow. They had left the curtains open and their room was bathed in moonlight, making Charlie’s eyes sparkle the darkest blue. Nick couldn’t look away.

“I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.”

Charlie smiled softly back at him. “I can’t wait to marry you either, Nicholas Nelson-Almost-Spring.”

Nick couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him at that. It was meant to be chaste, but Charlie rolled over until he was lying on top of him, deepening the kiss as he went. Okay, so maybe quick shower sex wasn’t good enough for their pre-wedding fuck after all. What a damn shame.

🌊🌊🌊

Nick and Charlie walked hand-in-hand down to Sundance the next morning with a spring in both of their steps. Michael, Tori, Olly, Sarah and the dogs were waiting for them there, Totty going absolutely bonkers when she saw her dads. They doted on her for as long as Tori’s patience allowed and then they were being ushered into Sundance to help gather the food and drinks to take along to Hendra beach.

It was a beautiful day, thank fuck. Nick had spent his first summer in Praa Sands believing that the Cornwall summer sun was a total myth after he was rained on almost every single day of his stay. Charlie rolled his eyes and called Nick dramatic every time he said that, but he couldn’t deny that all of their memories from that first summer together were clouded with drizzle and grey skies and muddy walks. But the skies looked bright and clear today and thank God for that because Nick wanted this party to be almost exactly like every other one Michael had thrown over the years; full of warmth and laughter and sunshine.

“Is that really what you’re wearing?” Tori asked, eyeing them both warily as they packed up bottles from the staff room at Sundance.

Nick looked down at himself – loose white linen shirt, dark shorts, an old pair of Vans – and then at Charlie – light blue shirt, black denim shorts and mucky white Converse. They looked like they were going for a casual stroll along the beach or for a casual summer picnic, exactly how they wanted it to be.

“Yes, Victoria,” Charlie told her, nudging her out of the way with his hip as he carried two boxes of beers piled in his arms. “What of it?”

“You’re getting married, not going to fucking Asda for the big shop.”

Charlie’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You think we shop at Asda?”

“Not the point, Char,” Nick huffed before turning to Tori. “We want to feel comfortable today. We’re not three-piece suit people, really. And seeing as we’re kind of just crashing a casual party, it might be a bit weird for us to turn up in ties and jackets.”

Tori shrugged and picked up a six-pack box of wine, carrying it back towards the front of the café. Charlie put his load down onto the staff room table and looked at Nick thoughtfully for a moment.

“What?” Nick asked.

“This is what you want, right? Dressing like this, not telling anyone, not making a big deal of it. You’re still okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Nick responded quickly, suddenly a bit panicked. “Are – are you not?”

“Yes! I so am. Honestly, the thought of doing this any other way feels wrong.”

“It really does. We’re on the same page, Char.”

Charlie’s smile softened as he looked at Nick with a slightly love-sick expression. Sap. “Good.”

“Good,” Nick agreed.

Nick started to get antsy at around 15.30. Most of the people from Praa Sands and beyond were scattered around the roaring bonfire by then, a few drinks in. The kids were running and splashing in the shallows of the sea, the dogs chasing each other happily across the sand, the adults chatting and laughing. Nick glanced over at his person where he was chatting with Dev and Jay and beamed when he found Charlie already looking back at him. Charlie winked at him before going back to his conversation and it did manage to sooth Nick’s nerves just a little.

He wasn’t nervous about their little surprise itself, more about interrupting people’s good time and forcing them to pay attention to him for half an hour. He knew it would be quick, simply a few words from Michael to let everyone know what was going on, a few vows exchanged, a quick toast from Tori, and then back to the party. Still. Nick didn’t exactly love taking up people’s time like that.

“Everything alright, Nicky?”

Nick turned to see Sarah sidling up beside him and he smiled, instantly feeling calmer. He lifted his arm to invite her into his side and she tucked up against him.

“I’m alright.”

“Are you sure? You’ve got that face on that tells me you’re fibbing, poppet.”

Nick chuckled at how well she knew him. “I am, I promise. I just – what if we piss people off? Crashing a perfectly good party and essentially making it all about us, forcing everyone to come to our wedding against their will.”

“Oh, Nicky,” Sarah laughed. “Look around. Look at all these people who welcomed you into their little town and supported you during a hard time. Look at them.”

Nick did. To his left he could see Imogen cackling with Mrs. Hewitt and a few other Sundance regulars. To his right, Tao and Elle were talking to the couple who ran the village shop. By the water’s edge, Darcy had been cajoled by a bunch of the local kids and was playing what looked like a very elaborate pirate game with them, wielding invisible swords as Tara watched on with a fond look. Olly and Isaac were sitting in the sand near the fire, Henry resting his little body on Isaac’s legs while Totty lay across the ground with her chin on Olly’s knee. Michael and Tori were by the drinks table, Michael handing out bottles and smiles to anyone who came near and Tori standing slightly behind him, her lips tilted up in a hint of amusement. Nick’s heart hammered happily in his chest as he looked at them all and remembered how each one of them had changed his life in some little way and yes, okay, maybe they wouldn’t hate him for taking up a small amount of their time this afternoon. They loved him. They would be happy for him. Right?

He glanced back over towards where Charlie was, head bent close to Jay and Dev as he told them something with a silly expression on his face. God, Nick loved him. Nick really, really fucking loved him.

Nick squeezed his mum’s shoulder and bent to press a kiss into her hair. “Thanks, mum.”

“Alright, Praa Sands!” Michael called a short time later.

Nick and Charlie looked at each other at the same time, smiles spreading as they made their way across the sand to stand by each other’s sides.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your fun,” Michael continued. “But things are about to get even more fun, I promise. We have a little surprise for you. I’ve been told to inform you that it won’t take long and then you can all carry on as you were, but I would like to add in my own words that it should take as long as it damn well pleases because this party is about to get very important.”

Curious murmurs filled the air as Nick threaded his fingers between Charlie’s and they started towards Michael.

Michael grinned as he saw them approach and stood up a little taller. “You all know Nick and Charlie by now. Charlie, one of our own no matter how long ago he abandoned us for city life. And Nick, an adoptee who we love like one of our own. These two are very special to me and Tori, of course, and to so many of you as well. And I’m so fucking ecstatic to tell you that they’ve chosen this little party in this little spot in this little town to make their love officially, officially official. So, is anyone up for a little wedding ceremony?”

The noise that followed was a mixture of surprised cheers and exaggeratedly irritated shouts of their names along with the barks of various dogs at the sudden ruckus. Tao and Isaac had descended on Charlie, pulling him away from Nick and shaking him and laughing as he defended himself. Darcy had jumped right onto Nick’s back as they yelled at him for keeping secrets as Tara, Imogen and Elle gathered around and threw their arms around him. It took a good fifteen minutes to calm everyone down enough for Michael to get their attention again and lead Nick and Charlie towards the fire, gathering everyone else around in a large semi-circle to watch the exchange of vows.

It wasn’t a legal ceremony of course, not today, but this was the one they wanted. On Monday, Nick and Charlie would head into St. Ives with Tori, Michael, Sarah and Olly and do the legal bit at the registry office, but this felt like the bit that mattered. Saying the words, committing to each other in front of the people they loved the most while the fire roared and the sun blazed and the seagulls squawked and the sea rumbled gently in the background.

In line with his promise to them, Michael kept his part brief. Nick and Charlie stood in front of him with their hands joined between them, looking at each other as Michael spoke. Nick could see Charlie’s eyes growing damper by the second until he shook his head and half-growled in frustration, muttering about how Nick had turned him into a disgusting, sappy bastard. Nick laughed tearfully and just squeezed Charlie’s hands in response.

When Michael got to the good bit, the do you take this fucking incredible, stunning, infuriating, stubborn, bossy, sarcastic, beautiful, kind, brilliant man bit – okay, maybe Nick paraphrased that part in his head when he looked back on it – Nick was full on crying. Because of course he was.

When Charlie looked back at him with eyes full of emotion and surety and said, “I do, Photo Boy,” Nick actually whimpered. He took a step closer as he was asked the same question and with a conviction he didn’t think he’d ever felt before said, “I do, too. Obviously.”

The sun was setting slowly, casting pink and orange hues across the darkening sky. Nick came to a stop as his bare toes met the sea, the gentle waves lapping over his feet. He tugged Charlie into his side and curled an arm around his shoulders as Charlie’s hand slid around Nick’s waist and he leaned in against him.

“We did it,” Charlie marvelled, leaning his head on Nick’s shoulder.

“We did. Hey, I never thought my wedding would be a surprise on the beach and that I'd be wearing shorts and no shoes and a half-unbuttoned shirt.”

“Yeah,” Charlie mused. “It really is a shame that the shirt isn’t fully unbuttoned, isn’t it?”

Nick dug his fingers into Charlie’s neck in retaliation as Charlie giggled and squirmed away.

“What? It's true!”

“In-fucking-satiable, you are.”

Charlie smirked up at him and shrugged. “You married me.”

“I did a bit, didn’t I? That's pretty cool.”

“Pretty cool,” Charlie snorted. “Plot twist: the sappiest boyfriend in the world turns into an unbothered, half-arsed husband.”

“Oh, I will still be the sappiest. Just you wait, Charles Spring, you aren't going to know what’s hit you.”

Charlie’s smile softened as he snuggled back into Nick’s chest and looked back out over the sunset. “Charles Nelson-Spring,” he corrected, and Nick wanted to scream with how fucking amazing that sounded.

So, he did. Nick took a step away from Charlie so as not to deafen him and yelled at the ocean.

“Charles Nelson-Spring!”

“Nick, what the fuck,” Charlie protested, trying to cover Nick’s mouth with his hand but Nick was too fast, dodging out the way and running into the water right up to his knees. The bottom edges of his shorts were getting soaked but he couldn’t care less.

“Charlie Nelson-Spring married me!”

There was a loud cheer from behind them as their friends caught Nick’s yelling and he laughed, turning back towards a very embarrassed Charlie who was covering his face with his hands.

“I’m fucking divorcing you as soon as we get home, that was horrific.”

Nick feigned offence as he strode towards his husband, trapping him in a hug that Charlie tried – but not very hard – to escape from.

“What? You were the one complaining about my lack of sap, and now you don't want it?”

“Get off me, you dick! Oh my god, you're so cringe.”

“You actually don't look like you’re cringing, you look like you’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Oh yeah, you sure?”

Charlie stilled, relaxing into Nick’s arms and looking up at him. “I fucking hate you.”

Nick scrunched his face up in an ‘aww’ expression. “Love you too, Nelson-Spring.”

🌊🌊🌊

The official ceremony on Monday was just as quick as their beach wedding. Afterwards, they sent Michael and Tori back to work at Sundance while Olly and Sarah – new and very unlikely friends – took Henry and Totty for a walk around the Harbour beach. Nick took Charlie’s left hand in his right, loving the still-new feeling of the band on Charlie’s ring finger against his skin, and together they walked through cobbled streets and brushed past tourists until they made it to the Tate. As always, they skipped all the art like the uncultured heathens they were and went straight to the top floor to the café.

They managed to get a table at Nick’s old favourite spot, one of the covered balconies looking out over Porthmeor Beach. Nick had sat here so many times on his first trip to St. Ives. He had sat and felt sorry for himself, sat and pondered on where his life was going, sat and missed and grieved and cried for his first best friend, his Nellie. He had sat and thought about Charlie here, already aching at the thought of saying goodbye to him and wishing there was a way to keep him forever instead.

And now here he was, five years later, with Charlie reaching across the table to join the fingers of their left hands together. Their similar but not quite matching rings gleamed back up at them. They had made it. Despite the doom and gloom they had both felt all those years ago, they had made it.

“You okay, husband?” Charlie asked, hooking his index finger around Nick’s as their legs found each other under the table and intertwined, too.

Nick sucked in a deep breath and laughed it back out, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “Okay? Charlie, I’ve never been better.”

The grin that bloomed on Charlie’s face was matched in brightness only by the sun beating down on them.

He was, after all, Nick’s Sunshine Boy.