Chapter Text
"Happy birthday, my love," Nick whispers in Charlie's ear as they clink their champagne flutes together.
Charlie can't believe his luck. If someone had asked him at age 15 where he'd be on his 30th birthday, he'd have trouble coming up with any acceptable answer. Working in a cubicle for some no-name company, his deskmate providing donuts from Tesco for the break room? Eating a slice of pizza over the kitchen sink, alone in a mouse-infested studio apartment? Hospitalized for yet another mental breakdown?
Dead?
But Charlie is 30 years old today. He's seated next to the love of his life: his incredible, kind, doting, supportive, intelligent, utterly handsome husband of six and a half years. They're enjoying a midmorning mimosa offered to them by the enthusiastic male flight attendant, who started pouring them as soon as it was safe to move about the cabin after takeoff.
"Thank you, darling," Charlie replies as he takes a sip, then pecks Nick on the cheek.
Nick extends his hand onto the armrest, face up, and Charlie interlocks his slender fingers into the strong calloused ones awaiting them.
"I can't believe they upgraded us to first class!" Charlie ogles as he looks around the airplane.
Nick meets eyes with the flight attendant, who winks back at him. It’s more obvious to Nick when he’s recognized than it is to Charlie; he retired from playing semi-professional rugby at age 31, and with the handsome payout he can afford to take his sweet, special, caring, sharp, clever, amazing, utterly handsome husband on an overseas trip for his birthday. Plenty of laddish European men recognize Nick from the sport, and he’ll get stopped on the street several times a week for selfies or handshakes. Furthermore, he has an easy time getting upgrades and perks in his day-to-day life as a minor sports celebrity.
It also helps that he was recently made international spokesmodel for Calvin Klein men’s briefs, which tends to garner recognition and favors from a different subsection of men. Namely, the gay kind.
---
Charlie and Nick stir from slumber as the pilot comes over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as we prepare for our final descent into LaGuardia, we ask you to return your seats and tray tables to their upright positions. I'd like to be the first to welcome you to New York City! The local time is 1:45 and the weather is an absolutely perfect 67 degrees and sunny."
Charlie lifts his head off of Nick's shoulder and feels something wet on his scalp. Nick peels his eyes open to see a small pool of drool weighing down a single curl on top of Charlie's head.
"Sorry! I messed up your hair!" Nick whispers with a frown as he startles awake, digging through his seatback pocket for the napkin that came with his peanuts.
"Hey! No being sad on my birthday, remember?" Charlie beams at his husband.
That has been their agreement for the last fifteen years since that fateful day at the bowling alley.
Charlie leans over and kisses Nick on the lips. All these years later, he still feels the rush, like he's getting away with something by kissing this fit blonde athlete-slash-model in public. Only this time, neither man cares if anyone sees.
Time slips away, as it often does when the two are wrapped up in each other.
“Flight attendants, prepare for landing.”
---
“So, Char. What shall we do first? Statue of Liberty? The Met? Or, we can find a hot dog cart?”
Stepping off the plane onto the tarmac, since the airport was too busy to have a gate opening, Charlie breathes in the warm spring air. It smells of salt water and jet fuel, with a hint of garbage dump. Absolutely perfect.
“Maybe we can just walk around the city a bit?” Charlie suggests.
“Anything, love! Let’s drop our bags off at the hotel first. But remember, we have reservations at 8:00 in the Village that we can’t be late for.”
“Ooh, where are you taking me? A hot birthday date?”
“My dear, any date with you is hot,” Nick toys with a curl hanging down Charlie’s forehead, swooning. “But, it’s a surprise. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Charlie ponders how for many couples, nearly a decade of marriage results in boredom and routine. In their own relationship, though, Charlie relishes the recovery support he receives from his husband. He can trust that Nick will select a restaurant with at least three of his safe foods on the menu to choose from and that the music won't be too loud, so he can focus on eating. By now it is second nature for his husband, but that doesn’t stop Charlie from appreciating that he never treats it as a burden.
It's them against Charlie's eating disorder. It's them against the world. Routine feels like security, and the complete trust Charlie has in Nick allows him to experience the joy of spontaneity that as a kid he never thought he’d get to experience.
---
“UMM? Nicholas? Where are we…?” Charlie had already been surprised with a private town car that met the couple directly on the tarmac, but as Charlie rolls down the blacked-out windows, he is floored.
“Hey. It’s your birthday. And you’re married to the bisexual ‘It Boy’ of the moment. This is all a gift from the company,” Nick gestures around the backseat and then out the window as the car comes to a stop in front of a very, very luxurious-looking hotel. “All I have to do in return is take a shirtless selfie in our clawfoot tub and send it to the social media coordinator so he can post it as sponsored content on my professional Instagram page.”
The driver opens the passenger-side door for the men and then retrieves their bags from the back. Charlie stares up at the brightly lit art deco marquee over the fanciest hotel lobby he’s ever laid eyes on.
“You better watch it, or else I am going to get used to this sort of thing,” Charlie raises his eyebrows at Nick.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Nick smirks.
---
Spilling out of the backseat of a yellow taxi later that night, Charlie and Nick clumsily attempt to flatten the wrinkles in their shirts. They never did make it out of the hotel suite for a walk around the city. Nick runs a hand through his hair as he leans over and thanks the driver kindly for his discretion. The driver huffs and drives off.
“That was quite unprofessional Mr. Nelson. You know people recognize you here,” Charlie boops his husband on the nose playfully. “Boink!”
“Come on, we’re late! I didn’t think the driver would a ctually circle the block for an extra ten dollars so I could make out with the birthday boy a little longer.”
Nick takes his husband’s hand and guides him towards the tiniest Italian restaurant Charlie’s ever seen. There’s barely room for a planter box out front, and he can see only a few dimly lit tables inside through the window. Once inside he marvels at the exposed brick and beautiful chandeliers illuminating the six or so couples enjoying romantic dinners.
He wonders whether they missed their reservation slot since there are no open seats in the tiny room. Over the soft conversations and clinking of tableware on china, Nick whispers, “Come on, we’re in the back.”
Charlie is amazed to be guided past the bar and through the chef’s bustling kitchen. A waiter greets Nick with a nod as he rushes past with a tray full of fresh linguine. Frying pans go up in flames and dough gets tossed in the air by cooks who seem too busy to notice the mens’ presence. They approach a wooden door near the back of the kitchen next to a rack of bowls and whisks. Nick looks back to wink at Charlie, then turns the doorknob and invites Charlie to exit the kitchen.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Charlie’s eyes take a moment to adjust from the bright white kitchen to the secret patio lit with elegant Edison bulbs and taper candles. Before he can fully see who is shouting at him, Charlie is enveloped in a crowd of people towering over him.
“...What?”
All he can feel on his face is the plush pink fabric of someone’s sweater…and he can smell something like pipe tobacco…and vanilla body spray…he hears the familiar giggle of…could it be? No…and then he hears the absolutely unmistakable slurp of a beverage being drunk slowly through a straw.
Tori. Isaac. Tara. Darcy. Tao. Elle.
“Charlie!!!” Oliver pushes his way through the herd and lifts Charlie up by the waist and spins him around.
Charlie once again finds his footing on the stone patio. His eyes have adjusted now. It’s… everyone . It’s everyone he could ever want to see on his birthday, all in one place. In New York City of all places!
Through happy tears, he greets each of his loved ones with kisses and hugs and hair ruffles, and more hugs. He spots Nick in the corner with Michael sharing a side-hug, and he can just barely hear over his own overlapping conversations, “Thank you for making this happen. It means the world to me and Charlie.”
"Olly, have you been working out?" Charlie gawks at his younger brother's strength. It feels like just yesterday Charlie was the one picking Oliver up for a hug!
"My guy, it's literally my job to work out!"
"Ok, ok, good point. Hey, aren't those pensioners going to miss their dance workout classes without you there?" Charlie asks with a wink. Oliver has grown up to be so handsome, and working as a fitness instructor at a community gymnasium is the perfect way for him to harness the childlike energy that never waned as he aged.
"When your big brother turns 30, you drop everything! Besides, Melanie has been dying to take over that class," Oliver rolls his eyes about his latest ex-girlfriend who is gunning for his job. He's worked his way through most of the female staff at his gym and has no regrets about any of them except Jealous Mel.
"Speaking of…" a voice from behind Charlie comes closer. "For the birthday boy!"
Elle hands him a glass of Cabernet as Nick sidles up next to him.
"In the immortal words of Taylor Swift, welcome to New York you two. It's been waiting for you," Tao gestures grandly with a smirk.
Nick pats Tao on the back for the reference clearly made just for him.
"I just…how did this all happen? What are you all doing here?" Charlie continues to awe at the beauty of the moment.
"Oh my god CHARLIE we have been DYING keeping this secret! We've been planning it for almost a YEAR!" Elle gushes. Clearly she's had a few glasses of red already, but she's always been a loving drunk.
"Yeah, and unlike you, we can work remotely, which means we aren't even on vacation right now," Tao mentions, always the realist of the bunch.
Charlie hadn't considered this fact. He takes a moment to appreciate just how cool his friends are: Tao edits indie documentary films. Isaac works for an international publishing house. Elle works as a stylist for up-and-coming celebrities.
"Yep, and this is technically a business dinner because I'm meeting with a very important potential client," Elle nudges Nick, "so drink up."
Charlie buzzes with warmth even before the first sip of wine hits his stomach.
As the evening goes on, the group mingles and laughs and reminisces and plots. Much pasta is shared and many bottles emptied.
“So, what now? Where are you all staying?” Charlie asks Tori. The two introverted Springs have found a corner of the patio to have a quiet moment together while everyone else ratchets up their rowdiness.
“Everyone’s here to spend time with you, Mr. Spring,” Tori replies in her iconic flat intonation. “Elle and Tao have a hotel somewhere in midtown and Michael found us a deal on a brownstone in Brooklyn for us and Olly. You know I get overwhelmed talking to Darcy so I couldn’t really understand what the deal is with everyone else. But, uh, your husband over there,” she points her diet lemonade towards Nick who is currently catching cherry tomatoes as Darcy tosses them into his mouth, “made sure we’d all be here for the weekend.”
“Yep, that’s the man I’ve chosen to spend my life with,” Charlie admits with stars in his eyes. “I’m pretty lucky, huh?”