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Nick sighs, staring blankly at the open fridge, exhausted from a long week of wrangling 8 year olds. Charlie is away at a conference in London, and Nick has been missing him more than he was expecting. This is far from the first time they’ve been apart or the longest, but lately, he’s felt distant from Charlie in more ways than one. He’s not even a little bit worried about them - it’s been a hectic time for both of them, and they’ve been together long enough that not every day, week, or even month is full of romance and intimacy and connection. He’s learned that the ebbs and flows are normal, healthy even, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling it, a low hum of restlessness and irritability. He’s itching to have Charlie home and in his arms so they can connect, move in each other’s orbit again.
Soon, Nick reminds himself. Charlie’s due back the day after tomorrow. The week after that, there’s a bank holiday. Right now, they’re like ships in the night, but in just a few days time, Charlie will be back home in the harbour of his love. Nick’s eyes crinkle, and he chuckles imagining Charlie’s face if he could hear Nick thinking something so cringe. He’ll have to figure out how to sneak it into conversation once he’s back just to watch the way his nose scrunches up.
Shaking his head and gathering his energy, Nick starts pulling out ingredients for a simple pasta-for-one. He’s interrupted by his phone ringing. Nick smiles, seeing Charlie’s contact lighting up.
“Bonjour, mon amour,” He answers in an exaggerated accent that never fails to make Charlie roll his eyes. “How’s conferencing?”
“I’m coming home tonight.”
Charlie’s voice is tense, and Nick’s smile immediately drops.
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, trying to tamp down his automatic anxiety response.
Charlie picks up on it nonetheless.
“Nothing’s wrong, nothing happened,” He reassures. “I just want to come home.”
“Charlie - ”
“I just really want to be with you tonight,” Charlie interrupts.
Nick’s heart skips a beat.
“Is- is that ok?” Charlie asks when Nick doesn’t respond immediately.
This, more than anything, sets off an alarm in Nick’s head. It’s incredibly rare, these days, for Charlie to question things like he used to.
“God yes, Charlie, of course,” Nick says forcefully. “But do you want me to come there? You still have one more day left, I can drive down or take the train.”
Charlie’s breath catches, and when he starts speaking again his voice is softer, calmer.
“No, Nick. Thank you, but no. I’m ready to come home. I won’t miss much, and I just- I want to sleep in our bed. Together.”
Nick’s heart melts.
“Ok, darling.” Nick says simply. “I’ll pick you up from the train.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
*
When Nick spots Charlie’s head bobbing through the crowd, something clicks into place in his chest. Charlie hugs him tighter and longer than usual, but somehow he’s still not expecting the kiss he gets when they’re in the car. Nick’s barely in his seat before Charlie is leaning over the centre console, kissing him hard with his hands curled around the lapels of Nick’s jacket. Nick’s literally never turned down a make out session with Charlie, but he does try to slow the kiss down, settle him a little. When Charlie finally allows them to separate, he curls up in the passenger seat while Nick drives them home, staring out the window at the rain-drenched streets, one hand resting on Nick’s thigh.
Charlie’s extra clingy when they get home, following Nick from room to room, hands running all over his chest, shoulders, and arms, stealing kisses so often that he has Nick laughing helplessly into his mouth as he tries to remake the dinner he abandoned with his boyfriend hanging off of him. He’d absolutely have taken Charlie to bed by now, but he has a sneaking suspicion that Charlie needs to eat - his eating is a million times better than it used to be, but when Charlie is stressed, his appetite is the first thing to go.
Nick knows there’s more going on than Charlie is saying, but he’s confident that he’ll open up to him when he’s ready. They’re good at this by now. They’ve worked hard for the open communication they now enjoy, letting the other one help when they’re struggling. Part of that is knowing when to push and when to back off, and Nick knows that Charlie knows that Nick will be here when he’s ready.
That time comes later that night after they’ve finished dinner. They’re cuddling on the sofa together, Charlie tucked up under Nick’s arm and the end of a movie playing in the background when Charlie finally speaks.
“I told you I was having coffee with Tara on my break today?” He says carefully, drawing random shapes on Nick’s stomach over his t-shirt.
Nicks nods. They don’t see Tara and Darcy as much as they’d like since the two moved to London, so Charlie was excited when he and Tara were able to find a time they were both free while he was there.
Charlie takes a deep breath, warm air puffing out against Nick’s chest as he exhales.
“She and Darcy are breaking up.”
Nick’s stomach drops.
“What?” He says, sitting up part way to try to see Charlie’s face.
Charlie sighs, sitting up fully and maneuvering to sit cross-legged on the sofa facing him. Nick reaches over, switching the tv off before turning to sit the same way. Their hands find each other at the same time, a point of connection.
“They’ve - she said they’ve been drifting apart for a while. Grad school doesn’t leave Tara with a lot of free time.”
Charlie recites the words blankly like he’s parroting what Tara told him.
“And apparently, Darcy’s been partying a lot and just like out with new people all the time. Tara feels like she’s kind of moved on from that stage of her life, and you know she was never really that into it in the first place.”
Nick nods. Tara and Darcy have always been a bit more “opposites attract” than him and Charlie. Despite their outward appearances, the differences between Nick and Charlie have always been shallow, surface level. Nick knows people sometimes wonder how the jock ended up with the artsy genius (Charlie would probably phrase it a bit differently, but Nick thinks that captures the gist of it), but the truth is they have near identical values in terms of what they actually want their lives to look like, both day to day and in the long run. They both prefer a night in over a night out, cozy gatherings with close friends over parties and clubs, they both want a family one day, together, but not until they’re more settled in their careers. They’re in no rush, but they’re moving in the same direction. Their lives are individual, but in sync, running mostly in parallel even through the massive changes that come with over a decade together. Still, Nick had always thought it kind of worked for Darcy and Tara, and every couple is different, and -
“Darcy is moving out next week,” Charlie finishes heavily.
Nick’s heart thuds loudly in his chest.
“Holy shit,” He says.
“Yeah,” Charlie says, huffing out a humourless laugh.
They stare at each other, eyes searching.
“Come here,” Nick says gruffly, more urgently than he means to, but Charlie’s moving before he’s even finished speaking, slipping into Nick’s lap and letting him hold him as tight as he suddenly wants to.
They cling to each other silently for ages, waiting for their heartbeats to even out and their breathing to slow. Nick’s mind races with questions and worries. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.
“So,” Nick says, smilling weakly and leaning back to look up into Charlie’s face, “Last ones standing.”
His hands slide down Charlie’s back to clasp around his hips. Charlie swallows, and Nick knows he’s hit the nail on the head.
“Yeah,” Charlie breathes back.
He runs a hand through Nick’s hair, smoothing it back, eyes moving over his face.
“It freaked you out, huh?” Nick says.
Charlie nods, lips pressed together tightly.
“It just brought up . . . stuff. From when Tao and Elle broke up.”
From when we almost broke up too, goes unsaid, but they’re both thinking of those horrible two weeks when they thought it was over.
“Yeah, I get it, darling,” Nick says gently.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and stressed lately and, like, working so much,” Charlie blurts out.
“Char -“
“You know I love you, right?” He asks, a bit frantic, holding Nick’s face in both hands. “I’m still so so in love with you.”
“God, yes, I know, love,” Nick chokes out, gripping at Charlie’s waist. “Me too, I love you so much.”
Charlie nods, pressing their foreheads together. They sit there like that for a minute, breathing together.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” Nick says intently.
“I do know. I really do. Just - ”
“Just scary. How it can end after all that time. I get it.”
“I just really needed to be with you tonight,” Charlie confesses, “I couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping anywhere other than our bed.”
Nick swallows around a lump in his throat. They cling to each other like ports in a storm. Charlie is trembling ever so slightly, vibrating with the release of pent up nerves. Nick smooths his hands up and down his back, wanting to provide comfort. He takes a deep breath and then another, letting himself think, letting the words come like they always seem to when Charlie’s peace is on the line.
“Remember when Tao and Elle broke up, what we figured out then?” He asks gently.
Charlie looks back at him, eyes damp and wide. Nick feels a powerful kick in his gut as he briefly flashes back in time to the face of the 17 year old Charlie he’d loved so fiercely back then, who he still loves with everything he has now.
“You and me, we’re our own thing. And this, what we have, it’s ours,” Nick continues, voice creaking.
Nick takes Charlie’s hand, and brings it to his own heart, twining his fingers through Charlie’s where they press flat against his chest.
“No one can ever know the future or who we’ll be when we get there. But I’m telling you now that I’m going to keep chosing you.”
Charlie’s eyes brim with unshed tears, but Nick thinks they’re good ones now.
“Me too,” Charlie whispers, voice thick with emotion.
A relieved laugh bubbles up between them, foreheads bumping together, lips quick to follow.
*
Nick undresses Charlie slowly that night, skimming his hands over every inch of silken skin he uncovers. They can’t seem to stop kissing, and when they do it’s to gaze at each other, neither willing to break the reverent silence that’s blanketing them tonight.
When they’ve stripped down to nothing, all barriers gone between them, Nick feels it again, that clicking sensation he felt at the train station telling him that this is right. As he moves inside Charlie, feels Charlie’s hands grasping at his back, pulling him deeper, closer, Nick feels every nerve ending crackling, feels everything tenfold. Through the pure sensation, pure emotion, pure love, fragments of thoughts tumble haphazardly through his mind as he stares down into Charlie’s half shut eyes:
Can’t believe -
Always -
So good -
Fuck -
Want you -
Gorgeous -
Love you.
Love you.
Love you.
It’s still so good between them. He’ll never be bored of this, not ever, never get tired of Charlie’s hands gripping him, his head thrown back, his pretty sighs, the way he feels, his eyes, God, his eyes.
“Feel good?” Nick asks softly, more because he wants to hear Charlie’s voice than because he has any actual doubt.
Charlie lets out a little incredulous laugh that sets Nick on fire.
“Feels amazing,” Charlie says breathlessly, pushing Nick’s sweaty hair out of his eyes fondly even as he digs a heel into Nick’s lower back to pull him deeper.
“You’re so beautiful,” Nick sighs, settling down with his elbows on either side of Charlie’s head and picking up the pace, letting Charlie’s answering gasp settle into his skin. “‘M so fucking lucky.”
A tear leaks out the corner of Charlie’s eye, but he’s smiling and the dimples framing that pink bitten mouth will be the end of him.
“Nick,” Charlie breathes. “Love you.”
“Love you,” Nick mumbles back automatically, focusing hard on getting Charlie there, relishing the knowledge that he knows exactly how to do it, knows Charlie’s body better than his own.
This angle, this depth, this pace. Kissing, closeness, no space between them. And because Charlie knows him too, when Charlie comes, he rasps out Nick’s name and words of love until Nick tumbles right after him.
Later, Nick traces his fingers over Charlie’s shoulder blade, heart slowed to a contented beat. He breathes in the smell of Charlie’s skin, clean and soft from their shower.
“I’ll give Tara a call tomorrow, shall I?” He thinks out loud.
“That would be nice, I think. I’ll text Darcy,” Charlie murmers back sleepily.
“I love you,” Nick says, as sure of it as ever.
Charlie’s lips quirk up, dimples flashing briefly in the dim light.
“I love you too.”
Charlie falls asleep quickly, flung haphazardly across Nick’s chest. Nick buries his face in sweet-smelling curls and says a sort of prayer of gratitude, for how this night went, for how different it was from the last time a couple they believed to be forever broke up, and most of all, that he gets to have this, him, still, after all this time.
He’s going to do everything he can to make sure they have this together forever. Nick thinks it’s well past time for the ring in his rugby bag to be on Charlie’s perfect finger. Nick’s been wrapped around it since he was 16, and there’s no sign of that stopping.
They’re Nick and Charlie.
They just keep going.