Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
Relationships, HAIM

Charlie S.
🎂30, ♉️Taurus, he/him

🎓MA Classics, MA Philosophy 
💼Senior Editor, Publishing
📍London 
📏5’9”
🍼Don’t have children
🍼 Not sure
🗣️English 🇬🇧
🧲Gay 
💌Quality Time & Act of Go To Therapy
💞short-term, open to casual 
⛓️switch 
☀️Likes: my black lab, she’s my actual daughter. leaving do not disturb on. (gay) marvel fanfiction, reading old journal entries to both cringe at myself and see how far i’ve come, concerts. running, but not in an obnoxious way where that’s all i talk about. if your entire profile is you dangling from a mountain or in the gym, swipe left i beg of you. i’m in eating disorder recovery, and i cannot stress enough how much i don’t care that you’re active and healthy. i need someone who will help me care less about that shit. 

❌🙅🏻‍♂️

Here’s the thing. At some point, I have to draw the line and refuse to date another Nick. So, that time is now. 

It has to be.

The most recent Nick I dated was last night, and after a long pros and cons session with Elle, Tao and Isaac–during which I was encouraged to “let go of the name thing ” for the millionth time–I’d decided to give him a chance despite the fact that he would be my eighth Nick in my 30 years on this planet. Technically 15 years of dating life, since my first boyfriend was Nick Stevens, the closeted American exchange student. 

Turns out, last night’s Nick works “in finance” which actually means he’s a crypto bro. I had sighed loudly when I realised it, pinched the bridge of my nose at my stupidity to continue giving men named Nick a try, got up from the table and left him stunned and confused to try to pay for our meal (with his crypto probably). 

I’ve given up on trying to find a boyfriend, and last night I really just wanted to fuck the Sunday scaries away. 

So, I called in sick today to wallow about my shitty taste in men. Or, rather, the universe’s cruel game of continuing to place men named Nick in my path. 

My editorial assistant, Dominique, called me earlier–on the actual phone–to ask what the hell is wrong. Because I truly never miss work, even when I’m sick. I just mask and yell at everyone to stay out of my office. And I ended up sucked into another classics submission from my favourite literary agent today–on top of answering a million emails–so I may as well have worked from home instead of calling off and creating more work for myself tomorrow. 

I look at the clock and realise that it’s 7:30pm and my entire day is now gone. I groan exaggeratedly, tossing the thick, bound stack of papers I was reading on the floor to a loud, startled huff of air. 

“Sorry, Bailey,” I say to my black lab. She hops up to join me, curling up at the end of the couch, and I massage her hip with my socked feet. She’s four years old, she’s sweet and gentle, and she’ll honestly probably make me wallow longer than necessary because when 35kg of labrador is spread on top of me for snuggles, it’s like the world’s most adorable weighted blanket. Maybe I’ll call out sick again tomorrow and actually not work. Rotting on the couch to Love Island sounds nice. 

My phone dings a sickeningly familiar dating app sound. 

Luke has liked your photo.

I swear I turned on incognito mode so no one can see my profile on their feed unless I like theirs. I squint at the tiny profile bubble, and oh. I vaguely remember him. His hair is dark blond and his eyes are brown and he’s four inches taller than me—unless he’s lying—if you care about that sort of thing. I hate that I kind of do. 

Hi Charlie! You’re gorgeous 🥰 The drums?! That’s so cool! Well I’m probably going to run out of characters & it was hard to choose which of the many things I liked about you, but I hope you write me back. Also I am *actually* bi. I’m not curious or anything. I know some guys ask me that. But I have zero doubts that I want to take you on a date ♥️  

I shoot upright, heart pounding, and tap back to his profile. 

Luke N.
🎂32, ♍️Virgo, he/him

🎓MA Education 
💼Teacher, Primary School
📍London 

• I’m moving to London at the end of October for my new teaching job that starts in January!

📏6’1”
🍼Don’t have children
🍼 Want children
🗣️English 🇬🇧, French 🇫🇷
🧲Bisexual 
💌Words of Affirmation & Physical Touch
⛓️Sub with women, switch with men 
💞Life partner, marriage, long-term relationship, open to short-term, open to casual 

• Happy to make new queer friends along the way if that’s our vibe, but I’m looking for my person. Someone to tolerate my bad car singing and steal chips from. 

☀️Likes: Rugby, Formula 1, animals (especially my dog, Nellie!), the Marvel universe, the sound felt-tips make on paper, rain, drawing on shoes, Disneyland, minimalism. 

He also likes me (based on his note).

I should just fucking go for it. I can barely tear my eyes away from his chest in that Pride shirt long enough to type a message back. 

God, his arms.  

He looks like one of those sensitive, hot guys that actually does learn about pleasing his partners. Why is he single? Is he breaking someone’s heart with this move to London? Where from? He’s way too sweet and sincere in that profile to be a true slag. Ugh, he’s probably so good at sex, too. Bi guys are way better with their tongues, just saying. 

Just reply. It literally cannot hurt. 

It’s not another Nick.

I can un-match from him any time.

Fuck, I did want to get laid this week. So bad actually. I need the validation. 

Charlie: um, hi. you’re gorgeous too ♥️

Luke: Omg you wrote back so fast 🫣

Luke:  Also, thank you!! 🥰 

Charlie: so…how “open to short-term” are we talking? because i just got lowkey catfished again and i feel like i need to be honest that i’m presently jaded regarding finding a boyfriend & i’m more just here to hook up with hot guys (like you 🥲) for now

Luke: Ah, got it. Honestly, I’ve been bullied by a group of lesbians to stop taking dating so seriously, and they’re probably right. So that’s why I didn’t see your profile before, I had it set to not see anyone wanting casual/short-term. 

Charlie: that’s fair 

Luke: So when I changed the settings, there you were 😍

Charlie: yeah we answer pretty fast over here on the *open to casual* *short-term* side 

Luke: 🤣Well we overthink on the *long-term* *life partner* side /fingerguns 

Charlie: not that I didn’t believe your bisexuality, but now we’ve got finger guns on top of the way you’re sitting in that deckchair in cuffed jeans at Pride in photo #3? 

Luke: Feel so seen 🥹

Luke: Also, what does “lowkey catfishing” look like?

Charlie: crypto bro who said he works in finance on his profile lol and ofc lied about height

Luke: Omg, gross

Luke: also I’m actually 6’1, prob closer to 6’2 if I’m honest 💁🏼‍♂️

Charlie: ugh you’re so hot! 🥵 

Charlie: yeah he was very gross. wish he’d have kept his mouth shut because i could’ve been properly railed and smoking a cigarette by now

Luke: (......typing….delete. typing….delete.)

Charlie: or…maybe i still could…? 👀🫦

Luke: (......typing….delete. typing….delete.)

Charlie: it’s okay, luke. i see you overthinking 😆you honestly seem too sweet for a one night stand. primary school teacher? who looks like you? with your border collie? and your photo with your mum? you’re a major catch, tell your lesbians to let you do your boyfriend thing

Luke: Hey wait 😭Go easy on me, I’ve never done this before! I was just trying to figure out how? Like am I supposed to ask for your number? Or is that rude? And just…how does one go about setting up a hookup like that? I don’t have my new place in London yet! Aren’t hotels impersonal?

Charlie: you’re adorable

Charlie: i’ve got a place, you know. no roommates, just me and my pup. i have a fancy editing job so it’s pretty nice ngl

Luke: What kind of editing!? I’m fascinated that you edit for a living but don’t use caps 😆

Charlie: nope, long-term luke! this is short-term! we don’t pretend to care about each others jobs over here

Luke: I’m not pretending 🥺

Luke: Okay, so do I invite myself over? (When I’m in London next week) 

Charlie: jeez get to know me first! (I have to wait til next week ?! 😭😭😭)

Luke: I’m trying! (I live in France rn, sorry 🥺)

Charlie: 😇

Luke: 😩

Charlie: ugh i saw that you speak french 🫠 too soon to ask you to say dirty french things to me?

Luke: (......typing….delete. typing….delete.)

Charlie: also…you’re bi! you’re telling me you didn’t have all the guys and girls queued up outside your bedroom at uni? no way are you new to casual sex

Luke: I didn’t…not have that 🤣

Charlie: lol ofc 

Luke: Uni is different though! I wasn’t on apps or anything. Were you?!

Charlie: who would be when there is a line of people waiting to sleep with you at the drop of a hat? ofc i was on the apps at uni. 

Luke: This may shock you, but I wasn’t looking for that even back then. I think I’ve always kind of hoped to meet The One. And every interaction feels so important, as if so much is riding on it, and I either play it too cool to overcorrect that (and people think I’m not interested) or I’m blurting out questions about how many kids they want (and people unmatch bc I scare them off)  

Luke: And honestly? Loads of people on the apps are biphobic. Like it’s genuinely wild to me how hard it is for them to understand 

Charlie: well, luke… i must be some kind of fairy something sent here to let you know that not every interaction is that important. sometimes two hot guys just want to get each other off and it’s glorious

Luke: Ugh, you’re so right. 

Charlie: and fuck biphobic people! bi guys are the hottest, fr. 

Charlie: well, don’t you fuck them, please. i’m trying to fuck you. let them fuck each other. or something. fuck me first, at least 🥺

Luke: 🤣🫠

Luke: Weirdly every inch of that sentence turned me on

Luke: We’re in our 30s, I should know how to do this 

Luke: I’m sorry I’m so anxious, thanks for not un-matching me immediately 

Charlie: god even you overthinking out loud at me is so hot. like really endearing 🥰

Luke: 🫣Is it? I’m trying so hard to not care as much as usual, but to also let myself care a little you know? 

Charlie: 🫠

I am so fucked.

Or will be the moment he’s off the flight from France. 

If he wants that. 

God, I want that. 

Luke: And Charlie? I never said one night stand. Casual and short-term can be multiple night stands, no?

Charlie: i’m listening…

Luke: Bc I know once I have you, I’m not going to be able to just never see you again

Charlie: what a line! (it’s working 🥵)

Luke: Yeah? 

Charlie: if you weren’t such a romantic good boy i’d show you how well it’s working 

Luke: Omg 🫠

Luke: Okay, this is already way more fun than talking about my love language or some silly shit about what my aspirations are. I’m so done aspiring.

Charlie: welcome to *open to casual* ✨💫🌟

Luke: Love this for us 🫶🏻

Charlie: see? romantic. not the kind of guy who gets dick pics

Luke: Hey now. First of all, I love dicks. Second of all, of course I get dick pics! They’re just not typically solicited. 

Charlie: well, if you’re not interested…

Luke: I very much want to solicit that from you, but I want to see you naked for the first time in person so I can do something about it 

Luke: I’ll accept a selfie right now though 😌

Charlie: you go first 

Luke: [image] 

Oh my god.

He’s even hotter than I thought. 

Luke N is laying back in bed against his pillows, a headboard with spindles perfect for handcuffing– chill out –behind him. His hair is mussed, and he’s wearing wire-rimmed glasses over freckled cheeks. He’s not wearing a shirt, but he’s cut the picture off just below his collar bone, so all I can do is imagine the way his flushed skin gives way to perfect, pink nipples. 

Charlie: fucking HELL

Luke: Oh! I got the all-caps! 😏

It occurs to me that Luke didn’t care about the eating disorder recovery stuff, or at least he didn’t mention it yet. He also doesn’t have anything on his profile that has to do with running or gyms or hanging from the side of a fucking cliff like most of these other guys on the apps do. He’s happy and playful in every photo he chose for his profile. And it’s so fucking sexy . Hopefully he’ll keep any stupid fitness obsessed thoughts to himself until after I get to sleep with him, unlike so many of the men I’ve met. 

I send lots of selfies to hot guys, so I’m not quite sure why I feel so nervous about this one. Probably still reeling from the millionth disappointing guy named Nick. 

The last one ever. 


That thought is comforting, somehow. I shove thoughts of all the shitty Nicks of my life out of my mind, and focus on sending a selfie back to Luke. I still feel slightly nervous to take my shirt off, but I know my burgundy jumper looks good on me, so I leave it on. I’m in pyjama bottoms, but he doesn’t have to know that. I mess with my curls, happy with how I look–especially for someone who was wallowing only 30 minutes ago. I scoot over to prop my elbow on the arm of my couch, rest my chin on my hand and snap a selfie with the other. 

Charlie: [image] 

Luke: God! I hate that I’m still in France. You’re sooooo gorgeous 😍 

Charlie: if I leave for heathrow right now, what time could I be in france? 

Luke: no idea my brain doesn’t have much blood left in it atm but I’ll get you an Uber and a flight. Address? ✍🏻 

Charlie: im only half joking 

Luke: im not joking I’d happily buy you a flight and an uber 

Charlie: you’re a teacher who can buy me flights? 

Luke: I’m technically not a teacher until January 

Charlie: then what are you doing in france? 🕵🏻‍♂️

Luke: I thought this was *open to short term* and you aren’t supposed to care about my work 🤫

Charlie: fine. i just need to know if you can actually afford it or i’d feel bad. in the hypothetical situation that i’m not at all actually for real considering

Luke: My dad’s a prick, but he’s a rich prick. So I let him make up for his utter absentee father status by taking his money 🤷🏼‍♂️ 

Charlie: ugh I don’t have anyone to watch Bailey on such short notice 

Luke: Bring her! Nellie is looking for a girlfriend, it’ll be perfect 

Charlie: *short term* reminder! 

Luke: Hey Nellie never changed her dating app status–it’s still *life partner* 😌

I am overwhelmed by the urge to call him. I rarely do FaceTime calls this quickly. Only if I am going to verify someone before heading over for a hookup. I can just call him with no video, though. 

Why do I want to talk to him so badly? 

Who cares?

I’m allowed to seek validation through the attention of hot men. 

I still haven’t gone back to therapy this year, why start bettering myself now?

“Hi,” I hear a deep, smooth voice answer, and I am overwhelmed by the butterflies that erupt in my stomach. 

“Hi,” I say, feeling suddenly shy. Shit. 

“So, am I sending an Uber to your flat or what?”

“Ugh! I can’t!” I lament. “Even though I really, really want to meet you.”

“I really, really want to meet you, too, Charlie.” 

God. 

“What do you want to do when we meet?” I’m biting my lip when I ask, and decide to walk to my bedroom and shut the door for privacy, just in case this goes where I’m hoping it will. 

“Hmm,” Luke says, and I hear him stretching adorably, his voice sounding low and a little rough. More confident than he was on the app. “Well, if I tell you, you’ve got to be good for me, okay?”

I feel an unfamiliar tug at my insides–something I don’t know if I’ve ever felt. Did he just…take over? I’ve been leading this so far–because of how anxious he sounded–that I’m a little thrown. In a very good way. 

“Uh, that’s my line.” I decide to opt for honesty and brat a little, hoping it makes the sex hotter. 

“Your profile says you’re a switch, Charlie,” he teases. 

He’s right, but nearly every guy I sleep with wants me to be a bossy top. It’s actually rare that I get to be anything else in bed. And I’ve gotten laid pretty consistently this past year. Still, I think there’s a part of me that feels safer being in control with guys I don’t know, not that I actually prefer it sexually. 

“Well, I am. I’m just used to being in charge, I guess,” I say, unsure of why it’s so easy to be honest with him. 

“But what if I feel like making you wait for me?” Luke says, and my insides melt at the idea. Of me waiting for him ?! I normally relax peacefully while lightly tormenting men. I’m not the one who squirms. 

I am definitely squirming right now. 

“I’ll wait for you,” my mouth says of its own accord. Or maybe my dick. Regardless, it’s not my brain. 

“Mmm, god. You’re a dream.” His sincerity knocks me over, and I swallow hard. 

“Shut up.” I can’t think of anything else. “Be serious.”

“I am. Completely. I can’t believe you were waiting for me on the other side of all the wrong settings and filters.”

“So what do I have to do to be good?”

He hums and stretches, and I hear a drawer open. “Well, I had planned to get myself off tonight, honestly. So maybe you just listen and enjoy the show, but don’t touch yourself?”

Oh my god. 

“Oh my god.”

“Would you like that?” 

“Fuck yes. Can I watch?” I ask, my heart pounding, thrilled at the idea of seeing him like that already. Harder than I’ve been in a long time. 

“Hmm…” I hear rustling while Luke pretends to think, then the jingle of a collar as he obviously herds his border collie out of the room. I smile and think of Bailey for a split second, snuggled up next to his dog in the corridor while we do unspeakable things to each other in my room.

What the fuck kind of thought was that?

Our dogs are not going to meet. 

Focus.

“...I suppose you can watch a little bit.”

Jesus Fucking Christ. 

“Yeah?” I ask, breathless. I palm myself through my pyjama bottoms, both frustrated and thrilled that I can’t actually touch myself. Because hot dating app stranger guy called Luke said so and I wanna be good.

GOD.

“Um, does FaceTime work on this app?” He sounds sheepish, and it’s adorable instead of a mood-killer. It just makes him hotter to me. I giggle involuntarily when his call comes through. 

“You figured it out. You’re so smart for being so pretty.”

“Shut up,” he says, and seeing his brown eyes live and up close like this has my insides in knots. Knots that are doing somersaults the likes of which I have not experienced…ever. 

“Hi,” I say again. 

“Hello, gorgeous.” 

“God, you’re good at this. Why the fuck have you been trying to find a life partner?”

“Honestly,” he says, biting his lip and looking me up and down on the screen appreciatively. “I have no fucking clue. Maybe because I was meant to meet you.”

I throw my phone across the bed and groan playfully. I don’t even clarify. He knows what he * long-term * did.

“Stop! I’m trying!” he says through laughter too, his smiling, freckled face filling the screen, which is facing my ceiling. I crawl to my phone, smiling over him. It’s far too intimate and fond for a fucking hook-up. We’re in dangerous territory.

Didn’t we just match like an hour ago?!

“Oh my fucking god. Is this the view I have to look forward to?!”

“I thought you were the top,” I tease, picking up my phone again and scooting to the head of my bed again.  

“Oh, I can do plenty from underneath you,” he says, confidently again. “Now prop your phone up and take off the jumper, you’re too clothed.” 

My face flushes, and I love the feeling of being told . Of having no idea what’s going to come next. It twists pleasantly in my gut as I set my phone up on my bedside table against a pile of manuscripts. I cross my arms over my head and whip off the jumper, my hair a mess in the reflection of my mirrored armoire. Thankfully, I have on a plain white t-shirt underneath, for now. 

I turn toward my phone again, angling it to face me better, then lean on a pile of pillows.

“Cosy?” he asks, his voice low.

“Yes,” I say, heart racing when I take in his bare shoulders, hoping he’s going to let me see more of him. “You’re so hot.”

“Thanks, so are you,” Luke replies with a wink. “Now cross your wrists over your head for me.”

“Fuck,” I say, biting my lip and obeying. My erection nudges my thigh through fabric and I shift my hips a little to experiment with friction. He’s smirking at me, and I hear the snick of a bottle. My jaw drops as I watch his chest flex, my biceps gently resting against my ears. 

“This okay so far?” he checks in. He checks in . And it’s still hot. Very.

“Oh my god yes. So good. More. Yes. Green,” I babble, wanting him to angle the camera more. He chuckles and keeps it on his face and moves it slightly further out so that I see his torso in all its glory. His tummy is soft and his pecs are strong and his nipples are, indeed, perfect pink. 

“Good, because you look fucking incredible,” he says, and I whimper. “All ready for me like that. God when I get there next week, I want you in my mouth as soon as we’re in your room.” I nod shifting my hips for more friction inside my pants. 

“God. Would you get on your knees for me, Luke?” I ask, and I stare open-mouthed while he’s obviously taken himself in his slick hand off camera, and he nods in reply, throwing his head back in the pillows and moaning softly. 

It is the hottest thing I have ever witnessed in my fucking life. 

My own dick throbs painfully, begging to be touched, but I keep my wrists crossed. “Can I…see more of you?” I ask softly through a beggy moan, raising my head as if I can peer into the screen and see more of him if I want. 

“No, you cannot,” Luke says firmly, breathing heavily, his chest flexing as he works himself, and my hips buck off the bed searching for something, anything, to press up against.  

“Please?” I ask pathetically. He’s reduced me to a whiny mess. 

“Fuck, Charlie,” he says through laboured breathing, clearly getting close. I writhe in place, flexing my wrists against each other overhead to keep myself from shoving a hand down my pants. This will serve as the hottest wank material for the rest of my life.

“When I’m there, can I fuck you?” he asks, sounding desperate. “Will you climb me and ride me?”

“Yes! Fuck me hard,” I say breathless and tortured as I watch him luxuriate in pleasure for a few minutes. When he starts to sound like he's nearly there, I ask, “Will you come for me now? Can I see?”

“Yes, you’ve been so good, Charlie.” Fucking hell, can my dick just explode untouched in my pyjamas right now? Because that feels possible. “Watch me, I’m so close!”

“Fuck me, Luke. Let me ride you.” 

“Fuck!” he shouts, angling the camera to show his hand working fast over his thick, swollen cock just as he shoots ropes of white across his stomach and chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

I watch silently, eyes wide as I let my arms fall to grab the phone and really take him in. 

He is every gay fantasy I’ve ever had all rolled up into one delicious, living, breathing man in the phone I’m holding.

Why is he so much hotter than anyone ever?

Is this even real?


Luke catches his breath and laughs, saying, “Uh, yep. It is.” 

“Oh, I said that out loud?” My brain may not be working.

“You did,” he says, and his demeanor changes into slightly concerned while he quickly wipes himself up with a flannel he apparently had at the ready. “Shit, was that okay? I’ve never done something like that before…”

“Jesus Christ, Luke. Yes, it was okay. More than. I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m so intrigued by your bossy side.” 

“I like it too.” He blushes and rolls to his side, holding the camera out in front of him against his pillows. 

I watch him, grinning, in disbelief that I am more than fine with this raging boner while he blushes and chats at me, clearly growing sleepy from his release while I am about to explode. “I don’t know. You seemed like you needed to be put in your place a little.” 

“Am I that obvious? I didn’t even realise until we were in this,” I admit.

“I mean you gave us all a dressing down just for looking at your profile and enjoying the occasional hike,” he laughs. “I love your sass.”

“Occasional hike?! Have you seen these guys climbing mountains all over? Like do you watch television or have actual friends?!”

“Nah, they honestly probably don’t.” We both laugh and then just look at each other. I feel all fluttery again.

What the fuck is happening to me?

“So our trial run of me giving orders and you obeying was okay?”

“I was just surprised at you taking over like that…because you’re such a sweet guy. I didn’t foresee Dom Luke making an appearance so soon.” He turns his face to hide in his pillow making an embarrassed sound that’s entirely too cute.

“I’m surprised too…Like, I seem to always be…expected to be submissive sexually with most people. Or, I have in the past? I don’t know why, I guess people I normally attract prefer it? Which I do like, but…” 

I smile at him, despite my massive erection about to break off and tear free of the suffocating fabric on its own. I like listening to him.  

“Sorry, I’m babbling,” Luke says, blushing and swallowing. I feel a pang of disappointment that this is almost over. I worry he doesn’t actually want to meet. “Anyway, that was fun. You okay, Charlie?” He checks in again.

He puts his glasses back on.

So. Hot. 

“I’m really good,” I say, honestly.

“I cannot fucking wait to meet you next week.”

“Same, oh my god.” 

“How hard are you for me right now?” Luke asks, and I flush and groan.

“Okay, maybe I’m really good besides this situation.” I gesture at my obscene hard-on, angling the camera so he sees the tented fabric of my pjyamas. 

“Jesus. I can’t wait. You’re all I’m gonna think about.” He yawns, but tries to hide it. 

“It’s like 9:30pm!”

“I have to be at the gym at like 5:00am! I need my beauty sleep.” As soon as he says it, he looks more alert–worried, even. I remind myself people are allowed to go to the gym, and he’s clearly not a twat about it on his profile or anything. “I mean! I have to be there for work. I’m done with this job by the end of next week. I saw your profile comments, and I promise I’m not a health nut! Just let me know if you want us to go anywhere specific to eat, or if you’d rather just do drinks?”

“Luke, it’s okay!” I smile at him. “All I care about you eating is me.”

“Fuuuuck!” He shouts and throws his phone. I land face down in his duvet, and we’re both laughing again. “I need sleep, I can’t go again, Charlie.”

“Must be fucking nice! While I’m over here like this!” I tease. Because I actually love it, and it’ll take me four strokes to finish when we hang up. 

I hear an insistent whinge outside my door. Luke lights up. “Is that your dog?!”

“Yes, she’s the princess of the flat,” I nod, smiling at him. “Actually, I need to go walk her before we’re in for the night.”

“Sucks you didn’t fly here,” he says, sounding sleepy again. I am overwhelmed by how badly I want to be in his bed, and not even in a sexual way. He looks warm and safe.

“You fly here. I’m taking the lead next time.” 

“Hot,” he says, and his voice is gravelly, perfect. I want to lick my way up his throat. 

“Next week, right?” 

“Yes. I’ll be there Thursday!” 

“Thursday. Alright. Well, goodnight Long-term Luke.”

“Nah, you popped my short-term cherry. Happy to be here.”

“I’m trying to let this situation in my pants calm down so I can go walk my dog, okay? Can you stop?” I say, and he cackles in the cutest way.

“Okay, fair. Bye, Charlie.” His face is so sweet and so sleepy and I want to gently take his glasses off and set them on his bedside table and kiss his forehead.

He broke my brain. 

“Bye, Luke.”

Luke: Okay, I know we just hung up, but I really like you and I can’t wait to short-term blow your mind ♥️

Charlie: can I pick you up from the airport thurs so i can immediately do you? too keen of me? 

Luke: I wish, I’m technically not free til Friday night. I have a work thing the next day 😭But then I’m basically done with that job. I can meet you after, though! Friday night drinks near your flat? 

I’m dying to know what mystery career he’s doing at a gym at 5:00am that also has him travel to London, that he’s leaving for a teaching job. But I follow my own rules and don’t ask.

Luke: also plz send me your Bailey girl picture 🥹I loved the dog daughter comment on your profile, BTW. I feel the same about my Nellie 

Charlie: I said “actual daughter” she’s a labrador human dog girl angel 👼🏻 

Luke: 🤣…still feel the same about Nellie. Just trying to seem more normal for you 😭

Charlie: ship has sailed for me ig 

Luke: Okay, go walk your daughter. I already did 😇

Charlie: yeah two hours ago before you started looking for casual phone sex

Luke: Omg, I did. I did that! Kinda proud of myself lol

Charlie: go tell your lesbians, they’ll be so proud too 🥹

Luke: 😂they will! 

Luke: night, Charlie ♥️♥️♥️

Charlie: night Luke 🥰

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
Gone, HAIM

Luke: Hey gorgeous ♥️

Charlie: omg do we see each other tonight?

Luke: WE DO!! 🌈🥰🫂👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼🫠🥃🍷😌🫂🚙🐾👼🤫🚪🫦👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼🫠👋🏻🫠🍆🫠🧨🫠💥🫠🫠🫠🫠👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼🫂

Charlie: …are you okay?

Luke: NO, today is so exciting!!

Charlie: oh that’s right, your last day at the job?

Luke: Yeah! Very ready to move on and start my life in London

Luke: Why doesn’t this fucking app allow gifs?! 🥺

Charlie: well you managed fine communicating our entire evening’s plans above via emoji

Luke: [Alexis Rose Proud Smug Happy gif] - if I could 

Charlie: keep going this is entertaining

Luke: No, you go. Interpret my emojis 🧐

Charlie: (why does this turn me on?)

Luke: (Because you watched me come all over myself and liked it and can’t stop thinking about it, so pretty much anything I say that reminds you of that fact or that you’ll get to see it live in person tonight is going to get you going.)

Luke: (Just a guess though)

Charlie: (stop with the accuracy jfc)

Luke: “You’re right” will do

Charlie: you’re right, luke 🫦

Luke: 😇

Charlie: so much hugging though

Luke: Ofc. I give great hugs

Charlie: i think i’m a black cat, so i don’t, but tbd let me know later

Luke: Oh I cannot WAIT to hug you! I’m gonna spin you around twice at least. 

Charlie: that is not casual behavior luke 😩

Luke: Why can’t I hug you before I blow your mind? It’s not a marriage proposal hug 

Charlie: okay why are you waving 👋🏻 to me in my room after we shut the door🚪 on Bailey 🐾👼and start furiously making out but before dicks are out?

Luke: Well, dicks might be out already, but it’s a spank 👋🏻

Charlie: omg 

Charlie: me or you?

Luke: I mean I like giving and receiving, so you pick 🫦

Luke: But you did say you’d be bossing me this time, so I assumed I’d be getting a lil spank 

Charlie: ooh be bratty plz, so i can have fun punishing you

Luke: Pretty sure I can throw you around a bit, not a problem 

Charlie: 🫠

Luke: 🫠

Charlie: god i just realised i get to see you totally naked later.

Luke:  Okay I know I started this, but I actually do have to go and I can’t get off before work 

Charlie: won’t it help you focus if you do though?? we can be quick 😈

Luke: No, definitely not. It’ll help me to channel it into my last day. Physically. Not sexually. 

Luke: Saving that for you 😘

Charlie: what the fuck do you do?

Luke: I’ll let you guess and tell you over drinks later, how about that?

Charlie: this is even hot!!!! how?

Luke: I don’t know what to tell you, I was just born to flirt with you

Charlie: what a lineeee (still working 🥵)

Luke: What are you up to today, Charlie? 

Charlie: it’s my brother’s birthday so im using my corporate publisher perks to take him to some football match

Luke: Oh? Who’s playing? I don’t really follow football much, more of a rugby lad myself 🥲

Charlie:  luke, you know in your heart that i have no idea what teams are playing

Luke: 🤣 Okay, I googled…It’s England and Wales.

Charlie: 🤷🏻‍♂️all i’m gonna see are sweaty men running around

Luke: Wish I could join you in objectifying them as foreplay

Charlie: oh please, you’d watch the actual match, i can just tell

Luke: I mean yeah, probably. 

Charlie: boring

Luke: Doesn’t mean I don’t also enjoy the sweaty men. I just prefer rugby…tighter, shorter shorts you know? 😏

Charlie: really?! football isn’t the one with short shorts?! 

Luke:  Nah, not really. That’s rugby 😇

Charlie: damn

Luke: Well, have fun! Send me the name of the place you decide on later! I can probably be there by 8:00pm

Charlie: ugh i can’t decide if we should just meet at my place first and then go out 

Luke: We can start at your place, but then I’m not letting you leave your bed, so 🤷🏼‍♂️

Charlie: 🫠

Luke: 🫠

🙅🏻‍♂️

“Why are we here?” Tao complains as he takes in 12 of Olly’s closest uni friends here to celebrate his birthday. Elle pats him on top of his red beanie and gives him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Free bougie snacks and hot men playing football,” I say, shoving him a little as we walk up to the stadium. Tao pushes me back harder than I did him, and I crash into my little brother. Well, my taller-than-me-not-little little brother. 

“Rugby, Charlie, Jesus! Not football! It’s the Grand Final!” I cringe-smile at Olly in apology. I literally could not care less about what kind of match is about to take place. I wish Tori had come along, but she’d just said ‘I don’t do things’ and that was her RSVP. “Also, you’re all here for my 22nd birthday, thankyouverymuch,” Olly says, sticking his tongue out at Tao, who recoils. 

“You’re welcome for my corporate suite access.” Even though I’d literally always choose watching sweaty men in shorts running around and falling over. I like to pretend I hate sports, but I do usually have a good time at these things. Especially when we have our own box seats, and I don’t have to worry about getting hate crimed in the crowd. “I could’ve been at Disney on Ice for my good boy publisher reward. You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing, Charles.” Olly skips ahead of us, still in hand with his girlfriend. I feel like an arse because I can’t remember her name. It’s new. I’ll talk to her more today and try a little harder. It’ll help me stop obsessing over Luke for the next eight hours anyway.

Luke Luke Luke.

Luke’s head thrown back on the pillow, his chest tensing.

Luke’s deep voice and overall sweetness.

Luke making time to see me. 

Luke in his glasses.

Luke Luke Luke.

Stop thinking about him. 

“Hello?! Tickets, boo.” Elle snaps her fingers in front of my face as we walk up to the stadium gates. She shoots me a knowing look when I fish my phone out for the tickets, then announces to everyone, “Ahh! He’s thinking about his date later with the FaceTime hookup guy!” 

Tao rolls his eyes. “You really won’t let us see a picture of him? What if he’s a known murderer and we all recognise him from the news? You don’t watch the news, Charlie.”

“Shut up, everyone! I’m not going to show him to you because it’s casual and doesn’t matter. I’m not dating dating anymore.”

“Then why hide him? Let us see your hot guy!” Isaac says, and Olly turns around to join me again. 

“Yeah! Let us see him! Show us! Show us! Show us!” Olly chants. His uni friends seem interested now, and something about seeming cool to them or having their interest in any way has me considering showing them all Luke’s profile. Because he is objectively fucking gorgeous. “Show us the hot guy!” 

Olly starts jumping up and down like he’s 11 years old again, tugging at my jumper sleeve, and it makes me smile. I’m glad I did this for him. I miss hanging out with him. 

“No! Leave me alone!” I say slyly, thinking maybe I’ll show them when we get to our box. 

A sea of fans in two sets of colours pours into the stadium for the The Super League Grand Final–as the massive signs indicate from where we are in the queue. I try to remember which team I’m supposed to care about, glancing over at my brother again. He’s wearing a red and yellow jersey with “Nelson” and “10” on the back. The French team. Right. 

Why the fuck is there one random French team in this league? 

And why is my brother obsessed with it?

Luke is French and lives in France.

And speaks French. 

Maybe he will speak French to me while he fucks me later.

Tonight.

Oh my god. 

Olly shoves me again. “Hey! You still owe me for the Nick W incident! You told me you’d pay me back.”

“And all this …” I gesture wildly, shaking my head to clear thoughts of Luke again. “...is not enough!?” 

“I missed a really cool ‘welcome to summer’ house party for your drama, and when I arrived to get you, you were just peachy!”  

“Shut up,” I say, hoping he won’t tell the story, and when I look up, there are three sets of best friend eyes on me. So I turn defensive and add, “What?!”

“Another fucking Nick?!” Isaac asks, exasperated, closing his book around his index finger. “When? How many Nicks have you hidden from us?” 

“Four months ago! June!” Olly replies, and I reach up to try to cover his mouth, but he ducks away. “Sounds like at least one Nick that dear Charles did not tell you about. So! I go to pick up my brother who called me crying from outside the club—”

“Olly, shut up!” I jump on his back and try to cover his mouth, but I’m unsuccessful because Tao pulls me off, muttering ‘you’re 30 years old’ and gesturing for Olly to continue. 

“—where Charlie unfortunately saw Nick W making out with his ex, Ben, on the dance floor—” I push him in front of me, and he giggles through the ending, “—and when I pulled up to the club, my gay mess brother was kissing some other guy as if he was totally fine and wasn’t sobbing into the phone 30 minutes prior.” 

I really wish this fucking queue would move. 

“You can’t call me a gay mess, Olly! It’s homophobic.” He ignores me and kisses the top of my head aggressively with a loud muah!

“Well, I fucking can!” Isaac says, whacking me with his book. “I would not have recommended you get over the Nick thing for the other night's fake finance guy.” When I grimace, he softens and adds, “Sorry he sucked too, by the way.” 

“Will you all please tell me how many fucking Nicks it was going to take you to let me just rule them out as a group completely?!”

“Can you all please stop talking badly about the name Nick!?” Olly says mournfully. “It’s bad luck for the match today! Nick Nelson is retiring from rugby, and I’m really fucking sad about it okay?” 

I smile and rub his back, half listening to his sports rambles as always. “Okay, little sports lad. I shall never date your beloved Nick Newman.” 

“Nelson!” Olly and two of his uni friends yell to correct me, and I raise my hands in surrender. 

“Sorry, I’m literally never gonna pretend to care about a rugby player’s name,” I say, holding up my phone at the gate to scan our tickets for the stadium. An employee does a head count of our group then walks us to the corporate box seats. 

Olly’s friends quickly transform the space with red and yellow balloons, Catalans Dragons flags and signs. They finish by placing a ridiculous crown on his birthday boy head. They’ve brought multiple iPads and computer screens–on top of the massive flat screen in the suite itself with commentary from the match below. They’re all live with different sportscasters and commentators from various sports channels I’ve never heard of. There’s an array of snacks and drinks beautifully arranged on tables, and the room is teeming with excitement. Flashes of the rugby players warming up on the screen frankly don’t grab my attention because no one is touching each other in a muddy man pile yet. 

Tao, Elle, Isaac and I find our seats at the edge of the box, high top chairs around a cocktail table. I stare out over the rugby pitch, a massive bright green field with men running into big, foam pad things. 

We chat and laugh as if we’re out at a bar catching up and not in a major sporting event. Olly is having the time of his life with his friends, talking animatedly, jumping up to grab an iPad and show some stats to them. Just then, silence falls over the group as the teams huddle together for some kind of speech, a camera circling each team close enough for us to hear audio in our fancy suite. Dramatic sports-music plays, and Tao shakes his head as we exchange an eye roll.  

“The one thing I’m going to say is just be you tonight!” I feel a weird sense of déja vu, hearing the Dragons…leader? President? Captain? Giving a pep talk in a mix of French and English to his teammates. 

Have I just listened to so much football–rugby–around Olly that I recognise these fucking players?

I glance up to the massive screen over the field where it’s zoomed in on Olly’s random French team, jumping and slapping the back of the president captain leader guy. 

"Not asking for anything more, just you because each of you coming together as your best selves is what got us here! Let’s fucking go!” 

I definitely know that voice.

“And that’s it, folks! Nick Nelson’s last speech for the team as he goes into the final match of his rugby career–a stellar decade of fly half excellence…And the Grand Final for the perfect finale. Will he be able to get the win?!” The commentators spout stats about this guy’s career while a smiling picture of him in uniform stays up on the screen next to all the numbers. 

I squint at the screen in confusion. 

It looks exactly like Luke.

Like…exactly.

Holy fucking shit. 

Was this his secret job!?

“Oh my god,” I say, standing slowly, pointing. “That’s…him. That’s my date.” 

“What?” Tao asks. 

“Who?” Olly looks over. “In the crowd?!”

“No, literally him. On the screen.”

“Very funny Charlie,” Olly says distractedly, looking at his phone then zooming on something to show his girlfriend.

“Him?” Isaac asks again, pointing to the screen where the camera is following Luke onto the pitch. 

“Yes! That’s Luke!”

“Nooo…that’s Nick Nelson,” one of Olly’s friends says to me slowly, like I’m a toddler.

I start to seriously question my sanity, pulling up my dating app and tapping his profile.

“Here! It’s him! ” I say, exasperatedly, slamming my phone on the table. 

“Oh damn! That’s totally Nick Nelson,” Elle says sheepishly and Tao furrows his brow in question. “I might…follow him on Insta.” 

Tao’s jaw drops in betrayal. “Like thirst follow?!”

“Uh, yes? Look at him!” Elle says, resignedly, and Tao’s shoulders drop in disbelief.

“Guys, hello?! I am going on a date with him tonight! That’s Luke. ” I’m starting to get really irritated that no one seems to be understanding me. 

“That is Nick Nelson, Charlie.” Olly picks up my phone, sucking in a loud gasp. “Wait! His middle name is Luke!”

Elle’s covering her mouth with her hand in shock, and even Tao has nothing to say. I stare at the screen for a long time. Isaac is typing on his own phone, then mutters something hesitantly, setting his phone down to reveal that Nick Nelson’s name is Nicholas Luke Nelson. Luke. Nick. 

His fucking name is Nick. 

And he’s a famous rugby player.

And he’s even more gorgeous now that I know I can’t have him. 

The disappointment floods me, and despite the fact that I’ve been talking about how it’s a casual hookup, I know it was going to be more than just sex. It always was.

“Oh my god. He used his middle name on the app! Fuck my fucking life.”

“What are you going to do?” Elle asks softly when the match starts and everyone’s attention is off of Charlie. 

“I…I can’t see him, right?”

They stay silent, exchanging worried looks with each other. They know what I know. 

Which is that I can’t. 

I feel a pang of guilt for cancelling on him, knowing how anxious this guy can be. I know he’s a good person, and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt. He deserves me to show up to the date, have fun, laugh about the shitty way I can’t date a Nick, confirm it’s just casual sex, and collect another Nick. He makes a better final Nick than anything I could’ve imagined. 

And that’s the problem.

Because if I show up to our date tonight and explain myself to him, I know I won’t be strong enough to stick to my No Nicks rule. I know we won't be casual. I know it’ll be too fucking difficult. Because he’s the exact guy I want to be with. 

But I have thought that about other Nicks before.

I have felt similarly too early on before.

I have had chemistry with other Nicks.

I have even had great sex like I’m sure this Nick and I would.

And then something stupid ruins it. 

Every fucking time.

I feel furious with the universe for putting another fucking Nick in my path. I feel furious with him that he had to lie about his name so I was forced to see how wonderful he is. 

But I just can’t do it again. 

Tao’s eyes meet mine, and I can feel his genuine sadness for me. They seem almost resigned to the truth–that it’s not worth my time. That it’s stupid to continue doing this to myself and expecting one of the Nicks to finally be The One. 

The three of them grimace in the exact same expression, staring back at me, and if I weren’t so massively disappointed, I would take a picture of it because it’s objectively hilarious. 

I have the urge to eat some chips out of Elle’s basket. So, I take a few and eat them miserably. The hot, greasy, seasoned potato almost makes me feel like This Nick doesn't matter. It’s delicious, actually. I lean against the back of my chair and close my eyes, taking a second to appreciate how normal I’m being about food. 

I mentally give myself a pat on the back and open my eyes, talking myself into doing the right thing. Perhaps I should give him an explanation. Actually, I know I should. But anything I say will be met with a convincingly sexy response and I’ll cave. And once you block someone on the app, your messages all disappear so he wouldn’t see it anyway. 

I sigh loudly, unlocking my phone screen.

Are you sure you want to un-match from Luke N?

No. I’m not. 

But I tap yes anyway. 

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
Down to be Wrong, HAIM

🙋🏼‍♂️
NICK

“You look hot, Nick! Stop messing with your hair,” Tara scolds me as we finally enter the club, a Troye Sivan song thumping in time with flashing lights. I nervously wipe my palms on the back of my jeans, simultaneously hoping for and dreading a meaningless gay hookup tonight. Since I’m sticking to my no more pining for the love of my life rule. 

I genuinely am starting to think they don’t exist, that my time is better spent having fun and accepting my life with just me and Nellie as it is. And in actuality, I will probably just leave and cry into my dessert at home later when I realise I can’t do meaningless sex with anyone but that curly-haired gorgeous guy who tricked me. I broke in my new kitchen earlier by making some banging sticky toffee pudding for such a wallow, and I already want to turn around and just go home to drown in it. 

“I may be gay now, but your shoulders are so sexy, Nick,” Imogen adds, and I wonder when her presence will stop reminding me she's the second lesbian to realise her sexuality while kissing me. It’s not her fault. Or mine. Probably. The people pleaser in me is really struggling to let that go. 

“Well, I’m bisexual, so listen to me,” her girlfriend Sahar says. “You are like the only guy here who can pull off a plain, white t-shirt over jeans and Vans and somehow look hotter than if you were in mesh.” She gestures to the dance floor where there are, in fact, several hot guys in mesh. 

That last compliment actually does hit because Sahar doesn’t just give them out to anyone. 

“Thanks, bi buddy,” I say, following the urge to pull her into a hug.

“No, Nick,” Sahar says, feigning seriousness and shaking her head. “Nicknames and a sincere hug? Too far.”

“Please, can we dance!?” Imogen tugs Sahar’s arm. I laugh and give each of them a little side hug. Their relationship is so sweet. My heart aches a tiny bit watching Sahar’s melty, happy face while she follows behind the girl in the frilly, pink dress who stole her heart. I want that.

No, I don’t.

I just think I want that.

But it doesn’t exist. 

Because I somehow ruin every single connection I make.

I want to blame the apps.

Like, how shitty that someone can just unmatch after charming your literal pants off. 

But that’s casual sex for you, I guess. 

Ugh, I’m still bitter. 

Don’t think about him.

“Okay, I need a fucking drink,” I say to myself, glancing around for the bar. 

“Go stand over there my guy! One of the many beautiful men at the bar will gladly pounce on you, I’m certain,” Darcy says, bounding back having already retrieved two drinks somehow. They hand a drink to Tara with a kiss on the cheek. I roll my eyes at the second adorable lesbian couple in my life. Ugh.

I take a deep breath in, push my hair back off my forehead again, roll my shoulders and walk in the direction of the bar. I scan the area to see if Darcy’s lying about this alleged smorgasbord of men, looking for someone to flirt my anxiety away with. 

The first guy I land on is in long-sleeved black mesh and tight, ripped black jeans on a small frame. He has deep, blue eyes—brilliant even in this dim club. My heart picks up, doubling its pace when I take in his dark curls, soft and defined. He’s leaning back on the bar like he didn’t pull the rug out from under me on what was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. 

It’s him.

It’s Charlie. 

As soon as he sees me, he shoots upright, setting his drink on the bar. He looks like he’s expecting me to march over and tell him off. And you know what? I think I will. 

“Oh, hi, Charlie!” I say when I’m in front of him, my tone overly friendly. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe I’d have the courage to call him out. 

“Oh, hey, Luke! ” he says, and I’m surprised how angry he sounds. It’s weird hearing my middle name, a precaution I took on the apps after a few dates with women who clearly just liked the rugby thing. Charlie gestures at me vaguely, shaking his head. “You’re even hotter in person. Because of course you are!”

I pause lamely, searching his eyes, trying to find the right way to handle this. But I’m still annoyed, and I want answers. “Why didn’t you want to meet anymore?! If it was too soon or you changed your mind, I would’ve backed off or slowed down! You could’ve told me!”

“Well, you could’ve told me your name, Nick !” He looks disgusted, and I tilt my head to the side in confusion. 

“What?! Loads of people go by different names or initials on the apps! It’s a safety thing!” 

Charlie’s shaking his head still, and he looks like he might cry. 

What the hell?

“What? Did you show a picture of me to someone who likes rugby and they told you or something?” 

“No, actually, but my brother would’ve. He’s like your biggest fan unfortunately.” 

I try to ignore the pleasant twisty feeling at the idea of being introduced to Charlie’s family and already having that leg up. 

“Oookay…?” I don’t understand. 

“I was at your match, Nick! The super duper finale grand blah blah! I was there!”

Whoa.

“But you said you were going to a football match!” 

“Well, I was wrong! It was rugby! Short shorts!” Charlie throws his hands up, hopping onto the stool behind him, resting his feet up on the legs of it. He’s wearing these short, teal leather boots that look fucking phenomenal on him. They briefly distract me from processing this bizarre turn of events. 

“You were…at the Grand Final?!” The thought makes me feel exposed, embarrassed almost.

“That’s what I said. Congrats on the win by the way…You did a great job flying in half or whatever.”

I can’t help but laugh. Charlie’s just so funny and cute, even when he’s cutting and sarcastic. He laughs a little too, and he’s clearly trying to fight it. 

Why were we arguing?

Why haven’t we already met?

“See, this…?” I gesture between us. “...is why I didn’t want to tell anyone my name. Because I only wanted someone like you who couldn’t care less about the rugby. I don’t want anyone that does.” 

“What happened to casual sex, then? Who cares if you’re fucking some rugby fan who wants to talk dirty about a scrum or whatever? Isn’t that hotter? That they’d be into you for that?”

I cackle, unable to stop it, shaking my head and grinning at him. “Uh…no. No it is not, Charlie.” 

“Well…whatever.” He’s looking away with an adorable feigned aloofness, leaning back on his elbows. I can make out his nipples through the fabric. I want to lick them and tease him into admitting how much he wants me. I take a step closer to him, because even if he doesn’t want me, I want him to say it to my face. 

“Didn’t you want to know why I used my middle name? What’s wrong with it?! We were the definition of ‘hit it off,’ Charlie!” I say over the music which is a louder Chapel Roan song. He looks pained. Like he knows it’s true. “Why didn’t you just wait to talk to me about it!?”

“Because your name is Nick,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“Uh…not following!” I say, and I feel my face contort from the effort of conveying my utter confusion. 

“I don’t date Nicks anymore! Two thirds of my exes are all named Nick. I’m not even joking.” 

“HUH!?” I yell more emphatically, as if that will make it make sense. “So what!? I’m not them!” 

“I wouldn’t have ever talked to you if I’d have known! I didn’t want to see how wonderful you are, ‘Luke'!” Charlie says with airquotes. 

“Don’t ‘Luke’ me, you stood me up! I went home and cried into my ice cream!” He thinks I'm kidding, but I literally did. 

“You lowkey catfished me!” he yells over the music, pointing his index finger way too close to my face, my eyes crossing a bit until I move my head back from him. “When I literally told you I hate that!”

I know he has a point, because I’d honestly probably feel uncomfortable if this were reversed. I let him call me Luke a lot, even when I knew pretty much immediately that he was not a crazy rugby fan. Maybe I was afraid of him knowing and not liking me because of it. Maybe I wanted to delineate between my old life and new life. Regardless, there’s no real reason in this case that I shouldn’t have told him. But now, I’m kind of glad I didn’t, because I wouldn’t be standing here arguing in a gay club with my first–and hopefully last-no…stop–casual phone sex partner. Instead of admitting this, I defend myself out of pride. I need to remain the sad, casually jilted rugby champion. 

“And it’s shitty of you! Tricking people because you’re sort-of famous.” 

“Tricking?! Loads of people go by their middle name, Charlie! It’s not that crazy!” 

“Oh, so you go by Luke, then, do you?” Charlie demands, and before I can answer, Darcy and Imogen yell my name– thanks for the fucking reminder –apparently making up some drunk dance while they wait for a drink. I hadn’t even noticed them there. Before I can fully react, Charlie hops off his stool and marches up to them. “Hello. I’m Charlie. Does your friend here go by the name Luke?”

“No, my guy. That there is Nicholas Nelson the third,” Darcy says solemnly. 

“I’m not a ‘third’!” I say exasperatedly. 

“You’re not ‘Luke,’ either,” Charlie says, hands on his sexy hips. 

“Oh, really!? So that’s what this is actually all about, then? You unmatched with me and left me genuinely sad on what should have been the best night of my life…solely because my name is Nick?!” I proceed as if my lesbians have not gathered to watch us like a tennis match. 

“Yes.” Charlie holds my gaze, his chin raised in defiance. “And you didn’t tell me it was supposed to be the best night of your life. That wasn’t my job to guess and mind read and show up to support you! You said nothing to indicate how meaningful it was!” 

“We had barely talked yet! I was ending my career! I didn’t want anyone random online to make that connection and have it influence how they felt about me. I’ve had that happen one too many times.”

“He has, it’s true,” Darcy says, miming the Dwight Schrute gif they send me all the time. 

“Oh! You poor, gorgeous, successful professional athlete man,” Charlie says with a fake pout. Even that is insanely hot. It’s maddening. “With all the hot sports fans who would like you because of who you actually are. You knew I didn’t even have a fucking clue whether it was football or rugby I was attending. I think you were obviously safe with me regarding fangirling concerns.” 

I really hate that he has a point.

“Can you calm down?! I have met multiple people on the apps who didn’t use their real name! It’s not that big of a deal! I didn’t deceive you!”

“You did deceive me, though! I don’t care if I’m the only one not dating Nicks. I would’ve blocked you on the app so fast if I had known. My Blocked Nicks list is a fucking mile long after three weeks of swiping since we first talked.”

I try to shove down the ridiculous jealousy that surges knowing he kept swiping after we had phone sex. I was only checking the app to message him–and then I deleted it. 

Short term versus long term. 

I know I’m being unfair, but so is he.

“Seriously?! Because I’m Nick!? I’m a completely different person.”

“Who lowkey catfishes. Add it to your profile.”

“Oh, I will not be adding to my fucking profile. Doesn’t exist! I deleted it! I’m meant to be a single dog dad, nothing more.”

“Oh get absolutely fucked! Don’t you dare wallow at me like this when you could easily pull this entire dance floor if you wanted.”

“And you couldn’t?! You’re outrageously attractive, Charlie!” 

“Well, are you taking him home or what?!” A tall, beautiful woman in braids and glasses has appeared at Charlie’s side, looking me up and down while addressing him. I feel a little foolish for shouting at her friend who I barely know. Other than the time he watched me wank to the live stream of his wrists crossed over his head. Normal stuff. 

“Elle! Mind your own business!” Charlie pleads as two more men walk up next to her. The tall one takes her hand, giving me evils. The other is holding a copy of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.  

I fucking love that book. 

Focus.

“I only swing one way,” Charlie has turned to face me again, interrupting my thoughts. 

“So? As if women who can’t have you still don't find you hot?” I love that he looks flustered and annoyed. 

“You have double the dating pool!” 

“There’s a lot of lesbians here, to be fair to our dear Nick…” Imogen says, patting my back. “Though some of us have made out with him–”

“Im! Please!” I whinge, pinching the bridge of my nose then turn to Charlie again. “I literally don’t have twice the dating pool. Especially once they know I’m bi.” Charlie gets quiet, like he doesn’t know how to respond without blowing past that, and he’s a good person beneath his prickly exterior, so I’ve got him. I gesture to the dance floor. “And I don’t care about them. I wanted you.”

I still want you.

Our eyes lock, and I am surprised by how charged it feels.

He wants me too.

We’ve both apparently forgotten about our audience in the last 15 seconds because it startles me when Tara starts talking. 

“Oookay, let’s all give them some space, yeah?” She herds everyone away. Charlie’s friend, Elle, mouths “ you okay? ” and when he nods she does the same with his friends, shooting me a sly wink as she walks away. I have a feeling she’s rooting for us, and I appreciate it more than she knows. 

My back is to the bartop now, and the shift in energy has me feeling self conscious. 

My mind races as he takes a sip of his drink, flashing lights and a loud bass reverberating around us. The truth is, we chatted on a dating app on and off for a week after having phone sex once. During which we had both agreed that it would be casual. Or short term. Or whatever. And even though we had great chemistry, and I talked a big game, I had no right to expect more. It was shitty for him to just ghost me. But if I’m really honest with myself, I don’t think I could date another Imogen or another Tara or another Kevin…or someone with any of my exes’ names.

At first Charlie doesn’t speak, just steps closer, backing me up to the counter even more now. My stomach floods with butterflies at the closeness, and I have the urge to apologise for shouting, for expecting so much of him when he didn’t ask for that. 

“I wanted you too, Luke! ” He sounds hurt, but it also feels like a test. 

“Stop with that! Say my name.” 

Charlie looks hot and bothered, his eyes lit up at the suggestive way I basically just commanded him, and we’re both clearly getting off on this little spat. I take a huge risk and hook my fingers in his belt loops over each of his hips. He bites his lip, searching my eyes as I pull him into me slowly. When our hips meet, our chests pressed together, he speaks into my mouth.

“Nick.”

I crash my mouth into his, hungry for more of him. For whatever he wants to give me. I’ll take anything. He kisses me back eagerly, wrapping his arms around the back of my neck as I cradle his back with both palms, holding him in place.

Charlie kisses me like he’s afraid it will end any second. Which, it probably should, because even if we are surrounded by queer people grinding and making out, I don’t want him like this. I want to take him apart in private and hear my name spoken in the silence. 

“Take me home?” I breathe into his ear, and he shudders. “Let me try this one night stand thing.”

I say it just as much for me as I do for him. Because I need to stop piling pressure onto every new connection. And I feel like I’ve gotten some kind of gay karmic second chance. 

He rolls his hips into mine and I groan when he says, “I thought you said casual didn’t mean one night.”

“Hey, you’re the one who ghosted me. I’m just happy to be here with my terrible name.”

“Shut up,” Charlie says, kissing me hard and shoving his tongue in my mouth. He’s on his tip toes, hands gripping my forearms, and I melt. I may have never wanted someone so much. When I hook my hands under his legs and easily pull him up to straddle my waist, he sucks in a surprised breath. “Holy shit, Nick. You’re so fucking good at this.”

“Take me home, and I’ll show you how good.”

“What a line!” Charlie laughs, and he seems resigned to this. That we have no choice but to hook up now. Then he smiles and leans over to my other ear and whispers, shivers spreading down my spine. “It’s working.” 

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
All Over Me, HAIM

NICK

“It’s working.” 

Oh my god, is he going to take me home? 

Please, please, please. 

I grind my hips gently up into his where they’re wrapped around my waist, the bar digging into my back. We have the perfect chemistry–the perfect balance of give and take, push and pull, sass and sincerity. An annoying feeling pokes at me, though, and I can’t place it. 

Oh. 

Okay, so the Nick thing does give me pause. 

But it’s not stopping us now. 

So what, if he doesn’t want to date me?

I came here to hook up with someone.

Or cry into my sticky toffee pudding.

I have to stop this obsession with finding The One.

I don’t want to date someone who wouldn’t give me a chance because of my name anyway. 

But god, do I want to know what he tastes like. 

We kiss for a few minutes, and I just let myself enjoy it until Charlie pulls away from me, his fingers laced behind my neck. He looks at me curiously, head tilted in thought. I raise my eyebrows in question, wanting an answer.  

“So…it’s working then?” I ask, nuzzling my nose along Charlie’s neck, fucking thrilled. I kiss up the other side of his neck and lower my voice. “I’ll beg if you want me to.”

Charlie throws his head back with a playful groan. 

“What’s wrong with me that I keep attracting Nicks!?” 

“Nothing! We’re not all bad!” I laugh and slide my hand up the back of his neck to press our lips together again, more urgently, and keep my other hand firmly under his arse to hold him up. 

We both ignore a few eyerolls from the girl making drinks, and while I feel a little guilty, I’ve also never done something like this in public before–let alone this gay in public before–so I let myself enjoy taking up the space. Charlie presses a light, teasing kiss to my lips, and I chase it when he hops down to stand again. I immediately miss the weight of holding him; I could’ve carried him around all night. 

“C’mon. I have to have you,” he says, taking my hand. 

I grin to myself as he drags me by the hand through a sweaty crowd of people to retrieve our coats, then outside into the cool, November air. I swear I feel a spark when he drops my hand once we make it to the pavement. I share my location with the group chat because the chances of murder by a Nick-hating Charlie are low, but never none. We walk in silence at a fast pace, and I want to take his hand again, but I remind myself of what this is. Charlie glances at me knowingly every minute or so, and I’m tempted to start talking to him like I normally would on a date with someone. But, I don’t. 

Instead, I try to imagine what his place looks like. I picture him writhing under me while I swallow him down. And just like that, I am very, very okay with having him like this.

He takes my hand again, hesitantly for a moment, then threads our fingers together more tightly. Electricity zaps between our hands, and I can’t really explain the way it makes me feel, because a sappy part of me that’s admiring how blue his eyes are is warring with a new, slutty part of me that’s dying to shove him against a wall and ask him to say my name again. 

We walk hand in horny hand for about ten minutes in the same direction as I would for my new flat, and I realise we’re only a few streets away from where I live now when Charlie turns to walk up the steps to his building, tapping a code into a keypad. His fingers are long and elegant, and I want to suck the middle one into my mouth while he rides me. 

Jesus fuck. 

“You look like you’re gonna pounce on me,” Charlie breaks the silence as he pushes the heavy door to his building open for me to walk in, smirking to himself. “I kinda love it.”

“Yeah?” I ask, my stomach fluttering as the door slams shut, leaving us standing directly in front of the lift, inside an empty corridor. I crowd him against the wall, and he smiles up at me, nodding then moaning quietly when I slot my thigh between his legs and lean my weight against him. 

“Can we get to my flat before you start ravishing me at least?” he barely gets out. 

I love the effect I’m having on him. I love the way we found each other again, that we accidentally got another chance. Because if I’m meant to have a one night stand–or multiple night stands in a short term capacity–it’s going to be with this curly-haired guy who lets me tease him and talk dirty to him in a way I’ve never done with anyone else. I run my hands over his arse, sliding them into the back pockets of his jeans and curl my fingers in for a squeeze, smiling into another kiss. 

“Guess not,” Charlie laughs against my lips, and I’m so happy. So much happier than I am when I’m fretting over whether someone is The One. So much happier than I am with sticky toffee pudding. Or at least tied with. 

“Oh, fuck,” I say when he returns the arse-grab, and I look him up and down again in proper lighting. “God, I forgot you’re wearing mesh.” I want to throw his coat on the ground, peel his slinky top off, but leave it around his wrists so I can tie a knot… “Fuck, I forgot about the eyeliner too!”

“Come on.” Charlie smirks, pulling me to the lift, my heart racing when the doors open and he presses the button for his floor. As soon as the doors close and we start to move, he grabs me by the collar of my coat and pins me against the wall. I suck in a breath, loving it. I grab him by the back of the head to press our mouths together again, and we both quietly moan into the kiss. 

While I don’t typically think about other people I’ve slept with when I’m seducing someone new, I wrack my brain for any experience I’ve had with this kind of intensity and come up empty. It crackles between us, draws me closer to him, and I find myself wishing I could hit the emergency button on the lift to have him right here against the mirrored walls.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Charlie whispers, and I ignore the long-term way it pulls at my heartstrings, instead channeling that feeling into a more passionate kiss. 

I lift my back off the wall and walk him into the mirror on the opposite side of the small space, making out furiously while we ascend to his floor, hands wandering, hips pushing together over and over. It seems to last forever, when in reality it was probably only 15 seconds. We pause, breaths heaving, flirty smiles on us when the doors open to reveal his corridor, the front door to his flat directly across from the lift. He rushes over to it and keys in immediately. 

I get only halfway through taking a deep breath to steady myself before a sniffling black lab wiggles up to me. I can barely register the high ceilings and exposed brick before my heart is melting, and I dip to pet her. 

“Is this Bailey!? Hi girl! Hello!” I coo, trying and failing to stop my cute-aggression dog voice . I kick off my shoes when I see Charlie take off his teal boots. 

“You remember her name?” Charlie asks quietly, surprised. 

“Of course I do! She’s your actual daughter. Do you remember my daughter’s name?” 

“Nellie.” His face flushes and he clears his throat when I grin at him, busying himself with hanging his coat up in a poor attempt at disguising the obvious. That he likes yet another Nick. 

“Be right back! Entertain her for me while I clean up,” Charlie says, blowing me a kiss, and I hear the bathroom door shut.

My heart races with the implication. 

He’s cleaning up for me.

For me to fuck him.

Oh my god. 

I feel a cold, wet nose prod at my hand, letting it ground me so I don’t completely spiral about what’s going to happen here and how to protect my heart. Well, both of our hearts, really. 

When I crouch to her level, I’m a goner. I love her. Nellie would love her. Nellie would love Charlie. Charlie would love Nellie. 

I talk about total nonsense with Bailey, running my palm along her wiggly back, my eyebrows raised and mouth closed in a happy, melty pout as her long tail swishes through the air.

Short-term reminder. 

Charlie returns after an unknown amount of time during which I give Bailey pets and belly rubs. He hovers over us, grinning, arms crossed over his see-through top. Bailey delivers an excited lick to my cheek, wagging her tail then quickly retrieving a squeaky toy to drop in front of me. 

Ohmygodiloveherrrrr.

“We’re besties, now,” I gush, stroking her soft ears. “She’s so, so gentle.”

“She’s an Assistance Dog School dropout, actually,” Charlie laughs, his dimples making an appearance. 

The dimples. 

Omg.

Shorttermshorttermshorterm.  

“I used to volunteer with them,” he continues. “We failed the Puppy Raiser portion of the training, so I was allowed to keep her. Not gonna lie, I didn’t try that hard to teach her all the skills. Super selfish of me.” 

I chuckle and throw her toy. She dives for it and gives a quiet, polite play bark when she brings it back to me. 

“She likes you,” Charlie says, winking at me as he dips down next to us. Winking at me.

Bailey looks like she just noticed he’s even there and nudges his cheek insistently then licks mine again. As if she’s saying I like this one.  

“Yeah?” I try not to sound breathless and long-term about it when our eyes meet. It’s just a nice, adorable, cute, sweet re-set for us before we go do dirty things to each other in his bedroom. That’s all.

“Well…she does like anyone, to be fair,” Charlie says, laughing. “She’d let a burglar in here, no problem. So I guess you’re not that special.”

“Shut up!” I swat at his leg. “That’s very, very rude.”

Bailey wiggles happily between us, where we’re crouched before her, a little tuft of black hair falling to the ground and landing on my foot. I do not think about how I’ll find little black dog hairs on me for the next week and how that will not make me mushy in a long-term way and how Nellie will not act excited like I’m bringing a dog over to play when she sniff-attacks me later. 

I do not.

Except I do. 

I really do. 

“I would take a bullet for her,” I say, and Charlie snorts a laugh, scratching behind Bailey’s ear. “You think I’m joking, but I would.” 

“Oh, I believe you,” he sighs, like this fact is problematic for him. Like the way I’m hitting it off with his dog daughter is throwing a wrench in his plans to not date Nicks.

We both stand up fully again, brushing the fur off of our jeans, facing each other and smiling softly. I’m torn between wanting to roll on the floor with the cutest lab I’ve ever seen and desperately wanting to roll around with Charlie on his bed. 

One night stands don’t care about each other's dogs. 

But maybe multiple night stands do, though? 

I’m clearly his neighbour, just a few streets away. 

Maybe we can walk the dogs togeth—

“Luke?” Charlie teases, and I realise he’s given Bailey some kind of toy with dog treats in it that she’s happily distracted by. He places his hands on my chest, running them over to my shoulders to take my coat off in one sexy, smooth swipe. 

“Shut up, you know my name,” I say, letting my coat fall then stepping closer to shift my focus completely to him, lifting my hands to his hips to pull us together. “Use it.” 

A tingle starts in my belly and spreads warmth through my chest and groin. I’m kind of in awe of the physical response I’m having to my own bossy tone. 

“Mmm…but I thought loads of people use their middle names?” Charlie sasses back, his hands finding my chest again.

“Well, I don’t. I just lie on the apps to get gorgeous men like you in bed in case they hate people named Nick.”

“Well, Nick, it truly worked for you this time, didn’t it?” Charlie sighs, smiling resignedly as he searches my face, about to get the best sex of his life out of me. I’m enjoying this challenge–the idea of proving him wrong. 

“By accident, yes.”

We’re grinning like complete idiots, and this time he’s got me by the belt loops, tugging me along as he walks backward into his dimly lit room. It’s all clean lines, shades of blue, beautiful bedding and an ornate wooden headboard. One wall filled completely with backlit bookshelves, spines lined up by color and size beautifully. It looks professionally decorated–besides the books and a few framed photos with friends, it doesn’t seem particularly personal to him. But what do I know? I realise I barely took in my surroundings in the rest of his flat and make a note to pay better attention when I leave later.

Tonight.

Because I’m not spending the night. 

Because Nellie is alone. 

Even though I can have Tara or Imogen check on her.

But I won’t.

Just have sex and walk home. 

I can do it. 

I hear a loud click, and I feel my body respond instantly, growing hard when Charlie double checks the door. I’m filled with a sense of rightness when he turns around to face me shyly for a moment as he leans against the back of the door. I can’t explain it, because I just met him, but it feels like he’s never done this before either. I know he talks this big game about hooking up with guys and how it’s not a big deal, but I don’t think he usually has his walls down. 

I don’t know why on earth he’d have them down with me–another fucking Nick–but I can just tell he does. I can tell in the way he leans back on his arms when I crowd him against the door and kiss up his neck. I can tell in the way he’s just…splayed open for me energetically. Charlie’s a man who is usually in control of this kind of thing, and he’s anxiously awaiting the moment I fully take over. 

Check in and ask him. 

“Charlie?” I lean down so my eyes are at his level, my palms flat open against the back of his door on either side of his head. His eyes are wide and questioning, so perfectly lined and smudged that it’s clear he knows makeup. It’s so intriguing. And sexy. And distracting. “On our call, you said you’d be in charge next time…”

The flash of disappointment in his eyes lets me know I assumed right. 

God, even me being right is turning me on?

“Oh, well...yeah. I did, didn’t I?” He tries to laugh and the way he’s already more guarded, standing up a little straighter, seems like he actually wants me to lead. 

“Well, I was wondering…” I say, keeping my voice low and speaking into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder between kisses. I move lower as he tilts his head back to accommodate my collar bone kisses through the holes of his mesh top where I’m licking gently with the tip of my tongue, aiming for the skin between fabric. He shudders and sinks back against the door, melting at my touch, as I continue. “...do you maybe want me to tell you what to do tonight again? Would that be okay?”

Charlie’s head falls back against the door, and he covers his face, making an unintelligible sound of either exasperation or disbelief. I peel his hands off to reveal blue eyes full of hope. 

When he looks down to see his hands in mine, a playful, still-shy smile spreads, and he blinks up at me through his lashes when he speaks. “That would be very, very okay. So okay. I said that recently to a guy named Luke, in fact.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, undoing my belt, and I can hear him swallow while he licks his lips. 

“Yeah.” Charlie’s tone is light while he nods. “He was very slutty on a call with me a few weeks ago.” 

“Just on a call? Loser.” I let our lips brush together just barely while I whip my belt out of my jeans and toss it on his bed. I have no idea what to do with it, but the visual is sexy. Charlie’s jaw is dropped, and I am living for it. “Lucky me, here with you in the flesh.” 

“You are lucky.” Charlie has gathered himself to raise his chin in defiance, and I think we both hear the subtext. That I’m lucky he’s still going to give me this chance. When, to him, I belong on that long list of Nicks on the apps that Charlie has blocked. 

Which is so fucking true. 

I am so lucky tonight. 

I’m flooded with the need to overpower him. I reach up to take his chin between my thumb and first finger, controlling his head to position him better for a kiss. I cup the back of his head with my other hand, taking a risk when I thread my fingers through his hair to tug it gently. Charlie moans into my mouth, his entire body slumped back into the door, and our heat from the lift has returned, tongues gliding together while I kiss him greedily and grind against his thigh.

I pull away suddenly, hoping to disorient him, and I’ve no clue where these instincts are coming from, but I’m fucking riding this wave. Thanks, Luke.   

“Do you like when I pull your hair?” I ask, confident that his answer is yes.

“Fuck yes, you can do it harder.” His eyes follow me as I back away, and he seems to be concerned that the kissing has stopped. 

“Okay, noted.”

“You’re killing me, Long-term Luke.”

I smirk. “Just getting started.” 

He lets out an impatient huff of breath and pushes off the door to follow me. 

“So…” I walk toward his bed and run my finger along the edge of it, feeling this intense need to see him on it with his wrists crossed again. “...is this where you were lying for our phone call?”

Charlie watches me, biting his lip and nodding, arousal snug in his jeans and hands balled up at his sides, nipples taunting me through his top. 

“God, that was so fucking hot. And you in that mesh?!” I gesture up and down his torso then flip my hand to beckon him with my finger.  “Come and sit for me.” 

He walks past me, running his finger horizontally across my back as he does so, taking a seat and waiting on me for further instructions. Fucking hell.

My stomach flips with desire at the intense way he’s looking up at me from the edge of the bed. I reach down to grasp each of his wrists loosely, standing over him between his legs, and he gasps when I lift them, crossing them over his head just like he had done for our call.  

“I’d very much like a reenactment, if you think you can be good for me again. That outfit makes you look very naughty, though, Charlie. So I’m not sure I have much confidence.” I feign hesitance. 

“Fuck, Nick. You’re so–” I tighten my grip while holding his gaze, and he releases a loud, sharp breath. 

“Stay,” I say when I’ve pushed him back onto the pillows. I release my hold on him and step back to admire my handiwork–drinking in Charlie’s arms above his head, long black mesh sleeves adding to the effect it has on me. I have the instinct to draw this out and torment him, so I bite my lip and tear my shirt off over my head, delighting in the loud breath he sucks in. 

“Holy shit,” he says, and it sends little zings of pride through me, knowing he wants me this much. 

“God, look at you, Charlie.” He watches with rapt attention as I unbutton my jeans, unzipping them slowly. I moan quietly in relief as my erection is freed of the heavy designer jeans I’m in, putting on a bit of a show for him, touching myself through the fabric of my pants. He’s writhing beautifully on his bed, and I can’t wait to feel his skin against mine. 

“Oh god…” he says, eyebrows drawn together helplessly when I step out of my jeans fully, tossing them aside. I laugh quietly and climb onto the bed, crawling up between his legs to hover over him on my knees.

Charlie smiles, and he almost seems nervous as I fall forward, catching myself with a hand on either side of his arms where they’re squeezing his head, wrists together over his head in the pillows, trying to be good for me. “Is this okay still? Can I mark you up tonight?”

“Holy fuck. Y-yes. Yes, please. Please. I’ll cover my neck forever, I don’t care.” I smile into a kiss, then plunge my tongue into his mouth, wanting to claim him, even if just for the night. “I don’t even care that you’re still in socks to match your Calvin Kleins,” he adds with a cheeky grin. 

“Oh! Well, I guess I’d better get off of you, then.”

“I said I don’t even care about your socks! I don’t ! I swear!” Charlie says, half begging me to stay, half laughing at me, regretting his little slip. “They’re so sexy! Leave them on!” 

If I were dating him, I’d find this so unbelievably endearing. 

And sweet.

And cute.

And it would be such a green flag for our future intimate relationship that he’s able to laugh. 

But I’m not dating him.

I’m just fucking him.

Right.

I start to climb off of Charlie, and he reaches for my hips with a small, disappointed sound, his arms leaving their place over his head. I make a tsk-tsk sound, shaking my head in mock disappointment. 

“Oh, Charlie. I told you to stay,” I say, and he throws his arms back into place with a wide-eyed smile, his fingers curling loosely where they’re suspended back over his head. Like he’s having fun drinking in this experiment. I am too.  

I’m back up on my knees between his legs, keeping overly intense eye contact while I reach down behind me to take off each of my socks, tossing them over my shoulder. Charlie laughs loudly, his head tossed back on the pillow and eyes squinted shut in a way that long-term prods my heart. I giggle as I settle my weight back down on him, and we’re both laughing little bursts of air into the kiss, silently shaking with it. 

“I can’t believe I unmatched from you,” Charlie says after taking in a big breath when we’ve calmed our giggle attack. His Adam’s apple bobs while I continue peppering kisses along his jaw, giving him time to elaborate. I reach up to tug the collar of his top down so I can suck a bruise into him. His voice turns higher-pitched and desperate. “I’m so fucking stupid for doing that.” I lick and leave open-mouthed kisses around his collar, sucking and biting at his skin every so often. “So…fucking…stupid.”

I prop myself up on one elbow over him, shrugging with the other shoulder. I actually don’t think it was stupid of him, the more honest I am with myself. He didn’t owe the one-time video hookup guy hiding his career and lying about his name anything. “You know what, Charlie? You had your reasons. And here we are anyway, right?”

He nods and smiles again, rolling his hips into me. “Now, take my clothes off!?”

I raise my eyebrows in a scolding way, sliding off the bed to stand beside him again then hook my thumbs into the waistband of my Calvin Kleins to tease him. “You’re forgetting a word.”

“Please?” Charlie looks desperate, lifting his head as if he can peek inside my boxer briefs. I smirk. 

“Nope. Mmm-mm.” I shake my head. “Try again.” 

“Umm…” Charlie grimaces sheepishly, trying to guess what I want him to say. “...Sir?” 

“Wow, you’re never at the mercy of any of these short-term, casual men, huh?” I flip the band of my underwear over and tug it down to reveal the divots of my lower hips, one eyebrow raised. 

Charlie whinges and huffs, rolling his hips on the bed desperately. I like watching him writhe and squirm like this. 

I like it a lot. 

“Take my clothes off…?” I prompt again, swishing my hips a little and turning my head as if trying to hear him better. I swear his mouth is watering with how loudly he swallows again. I thrill at the moment the lightbulb goes off.

“Take my clothes off, Nick.” I free my hard cock of the last fabric on my body and step out of them, kicking them haphazardly away. 

“Ah, there we go! If you’re good for me and you make me feel good first, I’ll take them off of you.”

“Fuck, Nick. I’m so turned on.”

“Me too.” I wink at him and stroke myself a few times slowly. “I’m going to take my time with you, okay?” Charlie whimpers and nods, eyebrows drawn together and mouth wide open as he stares between my legs. He looks equal parts mortified by how obvious his desperation is and surprised by how much he likes it like this. 

That makes two of us.

“Arms down, sit up,” I instruct, and the way I’m completely naked while he’s still clothed is really doing it for both of us. He scrambles to the side of the bed again, hands gripping the duvet at the sides of his black jeans, ready for me. His eyes haven’t left my cock, and I decide to let him have it, stepping closer to him. 

“Very good, Charlie. Do you want it?” 

“Yes, GOD YES,” Charlie says eagerly, biting his lip so hard he’s going to draw blood. “Please, Nick.”

“On your knees, then.” 

He says “holy fuck” under his breath as he drops to the floor, and I cannot believe how hot it is to look down my torso, past my dripping erection to see his pleading, sapphire eyes.

The first day we talked, I loved Charlie’s cheeky profile and witty responses. He gives off a kind of intensity I haven’t encountered before–like everything he’s doing is to keep weaker men at an arm’s length, when in reality he’s also waiting for someone to overcome that and respectfully put him in his place. I have no idea why I find it so appealing to give that to him when I’ve hardly even bossed Nellie around, but I do. Maybe it was just bubbling under the surface, maybe it’s Charlie’s energy specifically that brings it out of me…but it’s like we’re both looking to get something new out of our time together. 

“Go ahead, then,” I permit him, and his hands grip my hips as he licks up my cock. I moan and my hands find his hair as he holds my gaze, wrapping his lips around the head and licking at my slit lightly inside his mouth. “Fuck, that’s good. So good…shit.”

My muscles shake with the effort of remaining standing when Charlie sucks at me harder, taking me in deeper like a fucking pro. His hands find my arse, gripping and palming at me to secure a rhythm. 

“Slow down,” I command, feeling like I’m about to explode only a few minutes of moaning and praising later. And he does slow his pace. Excruciatingly so. And since I plan on drawing it out, I decide I want to see him naked when I come undone. “Okay, off. Stand up.”

Charlie exhales, coming out of a trance–the trance of a fucking stellar blowjob artist. He takes my hands to stand, and I pull him into a searing kiss, reveling in the taste of myself in his mouth. We make out hungrily while I undo his belt, tugging it off of him with even more flare than I did my own. The heavy leather in my hands gives me butterflies.

What the fuck is this feeling?

I drop it and unzip his jeans, tugging them off of his hips and over his arse. I freeze.

He’s wearing matching mesh lingerie knickers under them, and my jaw drops, not expecting to clearly see his hard-on through the sheer fabric. 

“Oh, Charlie. So slutty. You wear these out tonight for the other guys?” I ask, hearing my tone naturally shift to be more possessive, though I’m thrilled with this surprise. 

“I must’ve known on some level that I’d run into you, Nick,” Charlie breathes, leaning up to kiss me. My stomach flips, and I kiss him back, pressing my hardness into his, letting us slide together over the soft mesh between us. 

I grip the waistband of his jeans and lower myself to the floor with them, pulling them off as he steps out of them. I stay down, drawn to kiss my way up his legs. 

“Oh-oh. Fuck, that feels incredible,” Charlie says, his head thrown back and fingertips gently resting on the back of my head for balance. I lick and press my lips from his ankle to behind his knee, leaving a few more bruises to bloom along the way. When I return to standing, he wraps his arms around my neck and babbles a series of confessions into my mouth. “I-I was hoping to run into you. Every time I go out now, I dress for you. Even if I know I can’t have you. I still want you like this. I think about you all the time. Every day since our call. I never stopped.”

I lunge at him, easily picking him up again, my dick nudging at his bum deliciously when he tightens his legs around my waist. I run my hand up to support him and feel…

“That’s for you,” he says into my ear as I slip my hand inside the mesh over his arse to stroke the plug he’s left there for me. I let out a shaky breath, and heat spreads through my groin as I hold my cock insistently against the flared base. 

“Oh my fucking god, Charlie. So naughty. Is this what you did earlier? To get ready for me?” He kisses me hard through a keen sound of agreement. I walk him to the corner, setting him on an armless, blue leather chair across from his bed and drop to my knees. 

“Ohhh my god,” is all he gets out when I lick a stripe up him through the mesh, then tug it down off his hips and over his cock to set it free. I only pull them halfway down his thighs before I have to have him in my mouth, his hands in my hair, his low voice pleading with me to fuck him after only a few minutes of bobbing up and down. I work the bottom of his shaft with my hand, play with his balls and suck at the head until I see his stomach tense in pleasure and pop off of him to more begging. 

“Nick, please! Please fuck me.”

“Get up,” I say, because I know how I want it. I take his place on the armless chair and reach up to pull his lingerie down the rest of his legs and off completely but leave on his top. “Do you have–?” 

Charlie interrupts by leaning over me to cup my face with both hands around a long, slow kiss. He walks over to his bedside table and takes out a bottle, tossing it to me fast. I catch it one-handed, mid-air easily. 

“Impressive football skills still going strong, huh?” Charlie asks, and I cough out a laugh. He’s standing over me again, tossing a few flannels and a condom on the shelf next to us where I set the bottle of lube too. 

“It was rugby, Charlie.”

“Oh, right.” 

“And you don’t use your hands in football.”

“Sexy.”

I roll my eyes, swiftly tugging on the mesh of his sleeves so he falls forward. 

“Shut up. Straddle me.”

“Yes, Nick,” Charlie says, fluttering his eyelashes as he climbs over my lap, feet on either side of the chair, and runs his palms over my chest. “God, I want you.”

“Have me,” I say, my cock sliding between his cheeks as he ruts against my stomach. We kiss passionately with my arms wrapped around him until I pull back to lick one nipple through the mesh, pinching the other one, drawing a cry out of Charlie. 

I reach between us to tap on his plug as I kiss his neck. “Are you ready for me?” 

He pulls me into a searing kiss then breathes yes into my mouth, my insides doing backflips that this is happening. I open the lube, coat my fingers and gently apply it around his rim. I haven’t used one of these in a long time, but I fake my plug removal proficiency by going slow, then setting it aside. I take the condom off the shelf, tearing it open with my teeth and handing it to him. 

“Put it on me,” I tell him, dying to fill him and fuck him, moaning when he rolls it onto me. He slicks me up with lube, and I add more to his entrance. “Can I see how ready you are first?”

Charlie whimpers and nods, lip sucked between his teeth when I slide in two fingers easily, scissoring them inside him, then another. He rests his forehead on my shoulder, rocking back onto my fingers and begging for another. I normally bottom with guys, so I can’t remember the last time I did this to someone. It’s hard to remember anything before Charlie. 

I clean my hand on a flannel, then thread my fingers through his hair, pull his head back so I can lick up his throat. He moans and slides our cocks together, and I can barely breathe. 

“Ride me. Just like you said you would,” I say, holding my tip up to his entrance, teasing, and I’m surprised to find myself wishing I wasn’t wearing a condom. I’ve never had sex without one, and I guess with Charlie I want to do all sorts of new things. 

“Oh fuck yes. I will, I will.” 

I tug at his hair a little harder than before, lowering my voice when I reply, speaking directly into his ear, pushing my length into him the slightest bit. “Say my name.”

“Yes, Nick,” Charlie gasps, jaw dropped. 

“Yes, Nick…what?” I ask, pulling out to tap my cock against him again, and I am filled with desire hearing the desperate way he's breathing.

“Yes, Nick, I’ll ride you like I said I would.”

“Good,” I say, pushing in then lying back against the chair to watch him sink down onto me, his hands gripping my shoulders. I may die from how good this feels running my hands up and down his thighs as he adjusts. His leaking cock leaves a trail of precum across my stomach, and I take his finger to run along it then bring it to my lips. I suck his finger into my mouth exactly how I’d fantasised earlier to taste him. 

When he’s adjusted to me, Charlie starts moving. I feel this animalistic urge to claim him, holding his hips and thrusting up into him. We lick and kiss and grab and grind for what feels like hours. 

“You feel incredible, Charlie. You’re so tight for me. God.” I grip his arse, bouncing him on my cock, head thrown back on the chair as I feel my orgasm building. 

“Oh–oh! Nick! Right there!” I spit in my hand and wrap my hand around him, stroking fast, my entire body tensing. 

Charlie’s sticky release hits me in the throat as he spasms around me, and I cry out as I come hard. We kiss each other through it, Charlie slowing to collapse onto my heaving chest when we’re both spent. 

“Well done, Long-Term Luke,” Charlie says eventually, voice scratchy as he teases me.

“Oh, fuck off. Guess I’ll have to break it to you while I’m still inside you. You like another Nick.”

Charlie buries his face in the crook of my neck and makes a sound that's a cross between exasperated and resigned. “So what?! You like me !”

“Uh, yes. I’d say so.” I gesture between us at the sweat and cum and the way we’re still connected. 

“You gonna order me around some more? Make me clean it up?” 

I shoot him a playful glare, taking a flannel to clean the mess between us.

“You quite liked my dominant persona tonight.”

“Understatement of the century,” Charlie says, sighing contentedly now, wincing slightly when we separate. “I think you healed all my control issues.” 

I cackle at that, unable to stop myself. “Okay, Charlie. If you say so!”

“We should probably do that again, though, to make sure my treatment is thorough and I’m fully cured.” 

“So no ONS?” I ask, tying off the condom. 

“You’re brand new to the club and you’re dropping the acronym?”

“I earned it!” 

“Hardly counts as a true one night stand. You’ll have to leave me alone after this,” Charlie says, and it’s admittedly difficult to imagine at first. But something else bursts forth in my mind–another possibility–and I realise it’s the idea that maybe it’d be fun. To not date him. To not try. To not chase. To not worry. 

“Shouldn’t be too tough! I’m not on the apps anymore,” I say, playing up my carefree tone. “And even if I was, you’d block me now, correct?”

“Fuck,” Charlie says, walking over to a chest of drawers, and pulling out a pair of joggers to step into. “You’re so right. I keep forgetting we’re not just role playing about the name Nick being bad. It’s your actual fucking name.” 

I truly laugh out loud at that. I can’t explain it, but it doesn’t upset me anymore. 

I think this has helped some of my control issues, too. 

“Yeah.” My tone grows overly somber, shaking my head as I get dressed. “Too bad it was just hot sex with your run of the mill Nick.” 

He smiles, but also looks genuinely torn. And for some reason I cannot understand, I’m fine with that. I’m so tired of trying to control every outcome and begging people to stick around. 

Thanks, daddy issues.

We’re clearly neighbours, even if he doesn’t realise that yet. I feel a sudden certainty wash over me. That this is probably going to happen with Charlie and I eventually for real. And if it doesn’t, it’ll be because he’s a complete dick who really won’t date a Nick. In which case,  I’d be fine letting this just be the best sex of my life. 

And funny enough, when I look up, Charlie is the one who seems unsatisfied. And I don’t know if it’s part of my new bossy kink or whatever, but the fact that this entire situation has somehow flipped to be me that’s hard to get?

It sounds fun.

“You said multiple night stands,” Charlie says, and he’s feigning indifference now, when I actually know he wants to get right back up on my dick and ride me again next Saturday.

Charlie’s tapping around his phone, but it’s faced away from me as if he doesn’t want me to see. I glance up in the mirror behind him and notice a familiar QR code to the fucking dating app.

“Are you about to show me a QR to get back on the app again? So that you can talk to me again?”

He flushes red, but looks frustrated. “No!”

“You dirty little liar, Charles!” I don’t know his surname, though, so I can’t full-name him.

“How do you know my name is Charles? I could just be Charlie!”

I look around for something that might show it, and I see his master’s degree in a frame on the side of the shelf, creating a perfect little background for a professional Zoom call. 

I make another tsk-tsk sound—which I’m finding I really fucking enjoy, by the way— and step closer to him. He’s somehow whipped off the mesh and thrown on a Black Keys T-shirt when I was looking around his room. 

“Charles F Spring,” I say disapprovingly, shaking my head, laughing when he huffs with annoyance and tries to find the source of my information.

“Fucking degree on the wall!” Charlie says, locating it when I snort a laugh. 

I lean down so we’re just a breath apart and whisper into his mouth. “Well, this was fun.” 

His face is red and his eyes look surprised and there is even a hint of desperation there. 

“You really won’t get back on the app for me?” 

“But I already found you.” 

“...So we can see each other again?!”

“Charlie Spring, do I have to explain how one night stands work to you now?”

He stomps his foot the tiniest bit in frustration, and it is fucking adorable. I open his door and Bailey jumps up with the toy in her mouth, tail wagging with excitement as if she forgot we were here. 

“Hey Bailey! Thanks for letting me steal your dad for a little bit.” I wink at Charlie and dip to pet her for a few minutes while he stews and paces. 

This is so much fun.

“Well, Charlie. Guess this is it!” I say sliding my arms through my coat sleeves.

His jaw drops in betrayal, which is hilarious to me. 

“Okay! Bye then!” Charlie threatens, and opens the door as I step through it, his eyes wide again in disbelief. 

Honestly? I thought I’d be begging for his number too.

But I guess I’m just full of surprises tonight. 

I turn around and take his hands in mine. “Can I kiss you one more time?” 

Charlie swallows hard, looking like he’s about to scream. “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.

Our kiss turns into the laughing kind again, and it’s truly a delight. 

“God, you’re fun!” I say, and start to walk away. 

“Nick!” he whinges, frustratedly waiting for me to do it first. 

“Are you seriously so stubborn that you can’t just ask for my fucking number, Charlie?”

“I don’t date Nicks!” 

“Ah, damn! I keep forgetting!” I joke, turning to press the lift button. The doors open, and I get on, Charlie watching me with an expression that seems equal parts furious, disbelieving, turned on again, indignant and alive. 

I feel alive too. 

“Great sex!” I say with another wink–his gorgeous, affronted face staring closely as I step onto the lift. I turn around to grin and wave at him as the doors shut on my first fake one night stand that’s actually most likely the first of many nights with this curly haired guy who won’t date me. 

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
Million Years, HAIM

❌🙅🏻‍♂️

CHARLIE

I’m finally curled up with a manuscript, happily sipping my tea when I hear Bailey whinge and bark from where she’s perched on the other side of the sofa, her paws on the back of it so she can watch the street below. 

“Sweet girl, you just went out an hour ago.” I pout, curious when she shifts her weight excitedly back and forth staring at something out the window then turns to gaze into my soul with another loud cry-bark noise. “Bloody hell! What is it, Bailey?”

I bookmark my page as I stand to investigate, taking another careful sip of tea, enjoying the warmth from the steam and the autumn way it soothes me. 

No fucking way.

I see Nick Nelson walking his border collie on the opposite side of the street, his broad, tall frame looking like a fucking Burberry model in that honey-coloured coat. He pauses to crouch down and pet Nellie, and Bailey starts actually barking at them. 

“Shh! Hey! Stop it!” I scold her, mortified, shooing her off the sofa only to have her immediately jump back up to eagerly watch Nick and Nellie from right beside me–both of us leaning toward the glass, peeking outside at the guy I’m still obsessed with six days after our hookup (which I’d stubbornly ended without getting his number). But who’s counting?

Like, properly obsessed with.

The way Nick had put me in my place every which way it’s possible to–even a few secret additional options I didn’t know existed–and left my flat, confident that he’d see me again. Sexy as hell. 

How did he do that?! 

It’s driving me mad. 

“Do you remember Nick, Bailey?” I ask her, embracing my embarrassing dog-dad level of love for this creature in the privacy of my own home. She whinges, nudging my hand with her snout, then barks a happy play-bark. “That’s his daughter, Nellie. She’s so cute, right? You’d have so much fun with her!” 

I scratch behind Bailey’s ears, doting on her then feeling my head lull to the side as I dreamily watch Nick offer Nellie a treat, adjusting her collar and standing again, turning toward my building. 

I duck away from the window, diving into the pillows, mortified when I see Nick glance up toward my flat. I meerkat my way up again, slowly rising over the back of the sofa–only my eyes and above visible from the street–to find a huge smirk spreading over half Nick’s stupid face. Or is that just his usual lopsided smile? I can’t tell from here. Both are incredibly hot and endearing. Ugh.

I should’ve just given him my fucking number.

But then I’d be actively dating another Nick. And I know how it will end. I’ve seen green flags in other Nicks. I’ve had chemistry with them. 

Not like this.

My brain can kindly fuck off while I try to process this humiliating turn of events. My traitorous dick can too, apparently hell-bent on feeding me a highlight reel of Nick gripping my hips as he thrust up into me. The sweat rolling down his throat, his firmly flexed chest tensing while he lifted me and slammed me down on him. 

Fucking hell.

I wonder if he’ll actually come over right now. Will he ring the bell at my flat? Bang on the door? Would he just keep walking?

That’s so much scarier.

Bailey’s tail wags enthusiastically to go with her happy barks, and she dives onto the floor and spins in a circle. Then she runs for the door, crying and nosing the handle repeatedly. 

I peek back out the window, and he’s gone. My heart races as I lean closer to the glass for a better look, finding him crossing the street, then turning onto the pavement on my side to walk past my building again. 

“Oh, Charlie. I told you to stay.” 

I remember the way the laugh had burst out of me as he hovered on the bed, flinging his silly socks haphazardly off in opposite directions–before he proceeded to give me the most satisfying sexual experience of my entire life. With the least shame and the most fun. Have I ever giggled during sex before Nicholas Nelson? Or belly-laughed?! Or bared my soul and confessed how much I wanted a partner? Or felt simultaneously like a teenager again and all-fucking-man? I do not believe so. He’d drawn that all out of me. And then some. 

Oh, fuck it.

I use the bathroom, admire my reflection in this blue, plaid shirt, check the weather, tousle my messy curls before pulling a black beanie over most of them, slip into my black peacoat, grab the lead, barely manage to get Bailey on the lift because she’s so excited, and walk us out into the crisp November air. 

And there he is. 

Just standing there looking fit as fuck with the worst name ever. 

“Oh, hi!” Nick says cheerfully.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say, miserably drawn to him like a magnet, even if Bailey weren’t trying to dislocate my shoulder to get to Nick.

“I am.” He grins.

I’m smiling too, despite myself, petting Nellie’s head, and Nick is greeting Bailey, and we’re a really ridiculous mess of cute-agression-dog-voice and tufts of fur flying as we love on them. 

“So you just took an Uber over here with your dog and started walking around hoping I’d be home?” I gesture at Nellie and try to fight the huge grin threatening to overtake my face at the idea. I fail.

“What makes you think we didn’t walk here?”

“You’re so…put together!? It’s windy and cold. You could at least have a runny nose or something very slightly human.”

“What makes you think we had to walk far?” Nick says, winking. Winking.

“Are we…neighbours?” I ask, and the thought of running into him more often gives me butterflies. 

“Maybe. I only give my address to people I’m actually dating, though. I tend to just do hookups at the other person’s flat, sorry.” He sighs regretfully, and it’s so fucking funny to me, knowing that I’m his first, real, adult hookup. Even if we both know how much more we want from one another.

“Well this is uneven, then!” I say, huffing at the injustice of it. 

“I mean, you didn’t have to take me home,” Nick says, shrugging playfully. “If you wanted to keep this information about yourself private, you know…”

“You practically begged me!”

“I did,” he agrees, nodding. “I regret nothing.” 

My belly swoops, and I feel the urge to throw caution to the wind and kiss him and pull him upstairs to my bed. Instead, I try to remain composed. 

Don’t cave.

“Tell me where! Do you live on this street?!” The thought knocks me off-balance. 

“I do not.”

“Not fair! So you just traipse up and down this pavement hoping you’ll get lucky and see me?!”

“I can leave if you’d prefer...” Nick says, feet firmly planted on the ground, confident that I’m going to give in. “You know…since you seem so busy.”

Busy trying not to think of you. 

Do not cave, Charles!

I can’t stop myself. 

I lunge at Nick, wrapping my arms around his neck to plant a big kiss right on his full, pink lips. He laughs through his nose the way he did on Saturday, the way he sent sparks of happiness through my chest, shreds of hope dancing inside me, then and now. The kiss is messy and mostly a disaster–our dogs tangled around us in their leads, wiggling and sniffing each other. His hands have found the small of my back through my black peacoat.

“Ugh!” I lightly punch his chest with alternating fists, laughing into the crook of his neck. “Why are you so hot?!” 

“To make you question your life choice to not date Nicks,” he says simply, and I know he’s actually right. 

“Ugh!” I say louder, sounding resigned, wrapping my arms around his torso. It’s way too physically intimate and forward of me, but Nick doesn’t seem to mind. I think of the way he took care of me emotionally before taking me apart in the bedroom and decide to check in with him this time. I try to stand up more, pulling my head back so I can make eye contact with him, but Bailey and Nellie have circled us so many times that we are truly trapped by their leads wrapped around our legs. It’s completely absurd, and we both burst into laughter. 

“Is this…okay?” I get out through giggles. We’re each trying to calm our dog and step out of the leads, bumping into each other a lot. 

“Yes! I love dogs.” 

“Not just the dogs…like…me. Just…on you like that?” 

“Uh huh,” Nick nods, wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

Before I can reply, there’s a woman walking a yellow lab on the pavement next to us, and she has to pull hard to keep moving because Bailey and Nellie have stopped sniffing each other and lunged to sniff at her dog instead. It causes Nick and I to fall into each other again–each of us still trapped by one leg–and we must truly look like a complete shambles. 

“Well this is a fucking shitshow,” I say, tugging my leg free then bending to still Bailey.

“I’m not complaining,” Nick says. “Hi, Bailey girl! You were so cute up there, barking to come play with Nellie and I!”

I blush instantly, hating the confirmation that he did, in fact, know that was coming from my flat. 

“Yeah, well,” I say lamely, twisting a curl sticking out of my beanie. “She gets excited about everyone’s dogs.”

Nick does an open-mouthed, smug nod with a sceptical, eyebrow-furrow as if to say, “Yeah, right.”

“Oh, fuck off! How many times have you walked up and down this street today!?” I point an accusatory finger at him, narrowing my eyes. 

“Oh, what’dya say, Nellie girl?” He crouches to stroke the fur along her back a few times with one hand and scratches Bailey’s ears with the other. “Like four times, I reckon?”

“Shut up!” I blush harder. “Why?”

“So that this would happen,” he says, looking up at me, not even trying to deny it. “I never did get your number, after all!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t date men named Nick. So I don’t have their numbers.” I know I’m not that serious about it, but I really enjoy our banter. It’s so freeing and silly and ridiculous. “So they don’t think we’re dating.”

“Can’t have that,” Nick says, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too big. “You look adorable in the beanie, by the way. And you’re such a good kisser.” I can’t stop the way my face has flushed hot at this flirting, so I focus on Nellie. 

“Well…thank you,” I say, as if it’s the most obvious thing and he owed me such compliments. I did just make a complete fool of myself jumping him on the pavement like that. I reluctantly lower my voice, adding, “You are too.”

“Yes!” Nick does a self-congratulatory fist pump near his hip. It’s stupidly endearing. Which I hate. So I look away and decide talking to his dog is a good idea. 

“Hi girl, I am so happy to meet you! Or see you! I mean! See you. You’re so cute.” She preens at my pets, wiggling and wagging her tail, just happy to be here. 

Why can’t I talk to even a fucking dog right now?

Why have I forgotten how to be a person?

I shoot Nick a look trying to save face by being sassy, adding, “I mean, I knew you were so cute because your dad had pictures of you on his hookup app!” He rolls his eyes, but laughs, muttering shut up.

When I glance up, Nick is standing again, watching me closely.

“You love her,” he declares.

“I do love her, I love all dogs.”

“Oh, whatever. You love Nellie.” 

“Well, you love Bailey too!” 

“Well, yeah! Of course I’m obsessed with your daughter already.”

“Nick, that sounds weird.”

“It is weird.”

“You’re weird,” I throw back, half-heartedly.

“We both are!” Nick says, and I realise he’s taken my hand and pulled me close to him. We each have a hold of our respective dog’s lead with our other hand, and they’ve calmed enough to let us lean in for a more intentional kiss. It feels soft and magnetic, and his lips remind me of the kisses we shared in my room when we’d first shut the door. When I’d first discovered what it felt like to be cared for by a confident partner whose sole purpose seemed to be giving me pleasure. I remember the feeling of the door against my back, his big frame boxing me in, encouraging me to let go with each press of his lips. 

He pulls away, stepping back and completely disorienting me. 

“Alright! Shall we go?”

“What?! Go where?” I demand, hand on my hip, swaying in place, my body searching for his warmth. I’d have kissed him in the middle of this pavement all damn day. I’m contemplating inviting them both up to my flat when he announces his plans. 

“Nellie and I have a dog park appearance to make. She’s very popular. There will likely be an English springer spaniel and a mini dachshund stopping by to see her.” I try to ignore the sting of jealousy that he has a little dog park friend group.

“Well, roaming up and down my street probably isn’t helping you be on time,” I scoff, feeling a teensy bit rejected. But he’s been hovering around seemingly waiting for me, so I can’t be too annoyed. 

“Oh, happy to be late if it means you’ll come too?” Nick starts walking toward the roundabout, Bailey tugging me along until my feet cooperate and my heart catches up to the fact that Nick isn’t about to join me upstairs in my bed right now. “Oh, come on, Charlie! No pouting! There’s still plenty of time for us to make sure you’re fully cured of your…control issues, was it?”

I wonder if he can read my mind, blushing furiously and starting to worry I have an actual fever. I take his hand when he reaches for mine, threading our fingers together and worsening the nervous-happy feelings ricocheting around my insides. 

Is he suggesting he wants to come back here to repeat last weekend’s events?

Oh my god. 

Definitely cave. 

To think, I started this day trying to forget about him, believing the most exciting thing that awaited me was a manuscript. 

“Well, turns out, you didn’t do a thorough job last time, so…” I flirt, looking away from him hoping he doesn’t see how affected I am. 

“Oh, really? I have a job to do, then!” Nick says seriously, confidently leading us through a pedestrian crossing full of more and more people, making our way to a busier part of the neighbourhood. Holding his hand like this feels like such a display. It’s gay, he’s a famous rugby player, and we’re not being subtle at all. Plus, we’re not even actually together, so the fact that he’d have no problem claiming me as his in front of everyone is doing things to me.

Crazy things. 

Irrational, lovey dovey things. 

“Well good. I expect a more thorough treatment next time.” I can barely get out the words without fainting at the ferocity with which butterflies are exploding inside me, just imagining what that could look like later. Later…today. Oh, god.  

“Ah, yes. No problem,” Nick says. “Ready and willing to be more thorough.” It sounds hot, despite the fact that we’re in broad daylight, as we approach the fence surrounding the dog park. He leans down to kiss my cheek as if we’re boyfriends taking our dogs on a little stroll around town, then drops my hand to open the gate. We laugh as Bailey and Nellie pull and tangle us again, but it’s easier this time because once we’ve stepped past the entrance, we unclick their leads and they’re free to run. They chase each other, leaping and diving, pouncing on random toys that don’t belong to them. Nick suddenly produces a shiny, new–and pink–tennis ball, and they tear off after it. 

“Is this a little preview or something? Trying to make it really hard to say no to you?” I ask, poking his side then hip-checking him affectionately. 

So much affection.

The most affection.

Ugh.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Charlie? I’m simply going to the dog park as I planned. My name is Nick. Thought that was a deal-breaker!” He’s flirting, tossing the ball for our dogs again when Bailey drops it at his feet, a panting Nellie trailing close behind her.

“Oh, it is. You’re right.”

“You seem like you keep forgetting that, though?”

I can’t help but cackle at that. It is infuriatingly hot. 

“We’re obnoxious,” I say. 

“You’re obnoxious. Because I could’ve already wined and dined you, babe. Could’ve given you—”

I hold my breath waiting for him to finish that sentence, hanging on his every word. Wanting to know more about what he would offer me. If I weren’t completely stubborn, that is. Maybe I’m not, though. I am here right now, after all.

“Nick!” A high-pitched voice calls, interrupting us as an English springer spaniel rushes past the gate. It’s a few of his friends I vaguely remember from the club, and I can’t help the relief that floods me knowing they’re a lesbian couple and therefore represent no current competition for the man I am not dating. 

“Oh my god, you caved and got his number?!” she shrieks, barreling into Nick, arms around his shoulders while her girlfriend approaches me. “Hi, Nick really likes you.”

“Casually. Yes,” Nick says, and I roll my eyes at him, but smile and shake her hand. “And no, I still do not have his number,” he adds, winking.

“I’m Imogen!” 

“And I’m Sahar! Sorry we didn’t get to properly meet at the bar last weekend.” She side-hugs Nick quickly, then shakes my hand. 

“Hi!” I say, feeling a little shy when I remember that the last time they saw me, I was telling Nick off at the bar.

“Yeah, we wanted to meet you, but Nick had to be a slag about it.”

“Imogen!” Nick huffs, but he looks like he took it as a compliment halfway through his knee-jerk defence. 

“It’s so cute that you brought him today!” she says.

“I didn’t even invite you two, by the way.”

I look at Nick, confused. “But you said there’d be an English springer spaniel here to see Nellie?” 

“Ah-HA!” Imogen boops Nick on the nose, and he swats her hand away looking annoyed. “Knew you wanted us to follow you here!”

“Babe, sound less creepy, please,” Sahar says, throwing another tennis ball to our three dogs, all happily chasing each other. 

“Yeah, well,” Nick says, turning to me. “They have my location, and I knew they’d assume I was headed here.”

“It’s been so cute Charlie,” Imogen says to me. “Nick has been walking by your flat every single day. Basically like a golden retriever in human form, this one. Plus you have major black cat energy! The perfect pair.”

Nick and I both blush, but he keeps his chin up. “Charlie already knows I was walking his street waiting for him.”

“I did not know you did it multiple days,” I say, unable to hide my grin.

“My guys!” 

Nick seems relieved at the distraction when another friend bounds past the gate holding their dog–the mini dachshund Nick had also predicted would be there–followed by their girlfriend. They hug Nick with the little pup squished in-between, and Nick laughs when he gets a lick on the cheek, wiping it away with faux disgust. 

“So, gang’s all here then? I’m Tara, by the way. Darcy’s girlfriend. Sorry they just came in like a wrecking ball and ran off. The second golden retriever of the group, if I’m honest,” she says, smiling dotingly at Nick. I next follow her gaze to Darcy who is doing some kind of duck-and-weave chasing game with six total dogs. 

Nick hugs Tara hello, and I shake her hand just as Imogen yelps, “Harry, drop it!”

Their spaniel is carrying a massive tree branch, far too big to be considered a stick. Nick quickly takes his phone out and snaps a photo of it, giggling delightedly. It’s so cute and hilarious, and I find myself wishing I was in this friend group with an annoying pang of longing to be his. 

I feel this way for pretty much the entire hour we’re standing here laughing and watching our dogs act ridiculous running between Nick and Darcy, who may as well be dogs themselves. At one point, Nick hands me his coat–which is, in fact, fucking Burberry like I thought–because he’s sweating from playing so hard. It’s a stark contrast to the put-together Nick of earlier when he’d been casually strolling past my flat.

Because he hadn’t walked very far.

What if I walk past his place every day and don’t even realise it?

I try not to have feelings about the little tufts of Bailey’s black fur stuck to his coat or the white hairs from Nellie I keep finding on mine. 

“So what were you two arguing about at the bar last weekend? Nick wouldn’t explain it to us and called us nosy," Imogen says, leaning closer to me, speaking quieter than she has done this entire time. 

I feel a little sheepish, but I opt for honesty anyway.

“Ugh, okay. I unmatched from him.”

“Yeah, he did tell us that part.” Her bottom lip is pouted and blue eyes wide. “It was sad, honestly. He really wanted you to be his first ‘casual thing’ or whatever. Came over crying that he didn’t get to meet you–” 

“Imogen,” Sahar scolds, apparently empathetic to me at the same time as I say “ouch.” 

“No, I deserve that. I did it because on the app, he said he was called Luke. And I had just gone on my one millionth terrible date with a guy named Nick. Like…I have dated so many Nicks before. I must attract them subconsciously at this point, I don’t fucking know.” I sigh loudly, reachig up to adjust my beanie for something to do. “Anyway, I had just sworn off dating anymore men named Nick when we matched…”

“Ohhh…” Imogen says, connecting the dots.

“Wowww,” Sahar echoes. “So you thought you found a hot rugby player named Luke?”

“I thought I met a hot teacher named Luke who was trying out short-term, casual dating, by the way!” I say, honestly. 

Both Imogen and Sahar burst into laughter at the same time.

“Yeah, that’s probably our fault,” Tara grimaces. “We just wanted him to stop taking it so seriously and passing up great people because they didn’t fit perfectly with his life plan.”

“So…what was wrong with the other Nicks?” Sahar asks, and the three of them lean in more, eager for the tea. Some of it is sad, some of it is downright triggering, and some of it is funny. So I prepare my usual spiel, trying to keep it as light as possible.

“Oh, god. Okay. Well, the first one ever was my first boyfriend. American exchange student who didn’t want to come out yet, so it was mostly just us making out on my bedroom floor, pretending to study. He was actually sweet. But at the time, I was devastated when he moved back to the states.” I sigh, then laugh when I think of a funny one. “Oh! And there was a Nick at uni who wore the wrong size of belt?! Like it was way, way too big, and it would hang down in this way that looked like a flaccid penis, I swear to god.” 

“Why is that a thing?!” Imogen asks through laughter.

“I don’t fucking get it,” I say. “With him, I even tried to get on board with it and make it sexy? Like used the belt to pull him closer kind of thing?”

“Ooh! Hot!” Imogen says.

“Yeah, well, he didn’t think so, thought I was going to break it? Or something?” I start to laugh harder, picturing his completely serious face at a house party, offended by my desire to involve the belt in some way. He was also terrible in bed. Completely selfish. “Okay, who else…oh, the world’s most boring dating app match ever. But, like, he kind of tricked me by being super interested in literature, so I was all excited we’d be a good fit. Then on the phone he couldn’t even tell me a single fucking show he likes? Or a favourite movie? Boring as hell. Two hours of my life I’ll never get back.” 

“Who doesn’t have multiple favourite movies?!” Tara asks.

“Right? Ugh…who else?” I scan my less triggering options. “One Nick was pretending not to live with his homophobic parents for a long time, and I stupidly believed him. He committed to that bloody lie for like seven months before I was like…wait this is not normal, why can’t I ever come to yours?” 

“Oh, hell no,” Sahar validates me.

“Then there was my boyfriend Nick of two entire fucking years who cheated on me like…six times? That I know of? But I just kept going to therapy with him,” I say, and then I start laughing pretty hard. It’s so, so embarrassing, but also kind of cathartic to say it to new people. 

“Oh, love! I’m so sorry! Fuck that Nick!” Imogen says, Tara rubs my back, and Sahar has a sad, sympathetic pouty lip.

“Yeah, so…fair on you for not being super fond of Nicks…” Sahar says, wincing a little. 

A whir of black fur slams into me, and I nearly fall into all three girls as Bailey catches the tennis ball Nick threw at me, apparently. Darcy cackles loudly from across the park, and Nick raises his hands in a gesture of fake innocence, a pleased smile dancing on his lips. I take the ball from Bailey–before she can bring it back to Nick–and throw it at him myself, with a little more force than I intended. He still manages to catch it mid-air with one hand and winks at me. I’m hit with a rolling, nervous excitement when I remember him catching the lube bottle I had tossed at him before he’d fingered me open for him. 

Jesus.

I hope I get to straddle him like that again tonight.

I look down to inspect my fingernails awkwardly when I see all four of Nick’s friends staring at us, evidently having picked up on that weird, heated ball toss exchange.

“Oh you like him like him?” Darcy shoulder-checks Nick, and I’m pretty sure my face is bright red at this point. 

Nick jumps playfully behind them, arms wrapped around them in a bear hug, lifting them up off the ground to spin in a circle. All four dogs lunge at Nick playfully, barking at him to release Darcy, who is presently shrieking with joy. 

“Sooo…” Imogen resumes our Nick talk at a volume he can’t hear again. “You unmatched when you learned his real name?” 

“Yeah, I did it in a somewhat heightened emotional state,” I admit. “I was at his Final Grand Rugby…fixture? Match? Thing?” Imogen, Sahar and Tara all just shrug and laugh with various I don’t know what it’s called either comments. 

“Wait, you were actually at his last match?” Sahar clarifies.

“Yeah, my little brother is kind of obsessed with Nick. Which we all thought was weird because he was on the French team? But I don’t know, he just always loved him. I’m certain I found him hot the one or two times I actually looked at a screen when my brother was trying to tell me rugby stuff. But I didn’t really pay much attention past their short shorts.” They all laugh, nodding for me to continue. I feel like I’m chatting to old friends. Trustworthy friends. It makes no sense. 

I try to grasp for some discernment, some sense of privacy. Of not owing them too much information about it. And instead I find that I…just want them to know me. 

“Go on…” Imogen says in a silly voice. I don’t know why, but I picture her as Tinkerbell and make a mental note to suggest that costume for Halloween next year if we are all friends by then. 

We will be.

I hope.

“Well…I saw Nick and showed my brother his dating profile, and everyone confirmed that he was the ‘Luke’ guy I’d had phone se–I had FaceTimed. And I got kind of upset about the fact that I was dating another guy named Nick when I genuinely had sworn them off.” I grimace, hoping not to be judged too harshly. 

“I knew he had phone sex with you! I knew it!” Imogen says, loudly, and Nick stops in the middle of the dog park, head tilted in a way that will not beat any golden retriever allegations. 

“You know who had what, now?!” Nick says hands on his hips. 

“Abort, abort,” Tara says quietly, turning away from Nick. 

“My cousin!” Imogen lies terribly, cringing at herself. “On the phone just now?”

“Your cousin is a straight guy. Try again,” Nick walks up to us, mostly eyeing me accusatorily. “Charles?”

“Hmm?” I ask, my voice higher than usual, feeling a giggle rise.

“Who had phone sex with you?” Nick eyes me suspiciously in a silly way, but also in a slightly worried way. As if I’d have been able to move on from him after the best sex of my life last weekend. 

“You?” I say, risking a glance at his friends and they’re all laughing. Besides Imogen who is looking smug.

“I knew it. You cannot do casual, Nicholas. We’re sorry for pushing you to try.”

“Uh, what?!” Nick spins around, a defensive tone that’s fucking adorable on him. “What do you mean?! I don’t even have his number!”

“Wait a second! When we first messaged that night, you said you were going to be proud to ‘tell your lesbians’ that you had meaningless phone sex.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t.” Nick is blushing now, dipping to fix Nellie’s imaginary collar problem. 

“Aww! Because it wasn’t meaningless!” Imogen sing-songs, poking Nick in the shoulder.

“You didn’t need his number! You just walked outside his flat until he saw you and gave in! That is not casual, Nicholas. That’s like…pretty fucking intentional of you,” Sahar says, and Nick whirls around to face her, looking betrayed. 

“You know what?!” Nick says in a cross voice that sounds very silly coming from him. “I’ve had enough of your opinions!” It makes my stomach flip when I let myself feel how much I like him at this moment. How utterly fond I am of him. Fuck. Before I can process it, he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder. “Alright then! Let’s go do casual things away from the presumptuous, judgmental sapphics.”

The girls burst into laughter. 

Darcy claps loudly with a Woohoo! 

“Hey!” I protest, punching him in the arse while Bailey and Nellie both jump at Nick to free me. “I did not say I’d date you!”

“Aw, you two are so cute! Go exchange numbers and saliva!” Imogen says. I’m kicking my legs in the air next to Nick’s head and we wobble a bit.

“Put me down! You giant, moronic, rugby idiot!”

“Okay, fine.” Nick sets me upright then wraps his big, biteable arms around me, flipping me so my back is against his chest. It feels wonderful. It feels like I have a boyfriend.

Named Nick. 

No. 

Yes. 

No Nicks.

Yes, Nick.

I’m biting my lip involuntarily at the yes, sir line of thinking my brain goes down. The dogs collectively plop down in the grass at our feet, and Nick leans down to whisper in my ear, shivers running down my spine. 

“Want to get out of here?”

I nod, turning my head to look up at him over my shoulder. He’s still a little sweaty and rumpled from his chaotic dog park playtime, his hair sticking up adorably.  

Fuck my life, he’s dreamy. 

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Charlie!” Sahar says. “Too bad you won't date Nick. Maybe he should change his name to Luke, though. Do you accept name changes?”

“Hmm…I’ll think about it!” I say, waving to them after I clip Bailey’s lead on, just as Nick pinches my side then clips on Nellie’s. I let out a surprised laugh, feeling ridiculously happy. That I’m even here with Nick, much less his friends accepting me. With Nick draped around me. I feel safe. At ease. 

I am so, so, so fucked. 

* * *

“Get in my bed,” Nick says into my ear as soon as his bedroom door clicks shut on our dogs, snuggled up in a pile on his sofa in the next room. My heart can barely register how sweet that is before I feel my insides drop like I’m on a roller coaster with the way he’s crowding me from behind. I’m enveloped in his warmth, my head lulled back onto his shoulder as he kisses my neck and slips his hand past the waist of my jeans just enough to let his fingertips tickle my treasure trail. 

“Nick…” I whine, biting my lip as I grow hard. The only thing I can really register about his room is that it’s mostly dark–lit by two multi-wick candles on each of his bedside tables.

I feel myself relax more, sinking further back against Nick’s front, his teeth sliding lightly over the skin he just kissed as he slowly nudges me along, walking us toward his massive bed. He turns me around forcefully so I’m facing him, wrapping a steadying arm behind my back, pressing our hips together so we can feel each other. I rest my hands on his chest briefly before I unbutton his shirt and sigh happily, letting myself enjoy this. 

“You’re already so hard for me,” Nick says, rocking into me so I can feel him too, an affirmative moan escaping my lungs without any thought beyond how good it feels. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot, Nick.” I run my hands over his bare pecs now, torn between savouring this experience and diving into him. 

“I like hearing you say my name so much,” he says in a voice that’s equal parts teasing and sexy. “It’s promising.”

When Nick reaches up to tuck a curl behind my ear, I’m hit with a wave of affection at the tender gesture, and that same feeling of calm before being taken apart is simmering in me. He sucks in a breath watching my fingers trace his nipples until they’re hard, and I follow the urge to dip down and lick one of them into my mouth. 

“God, Charlie…Fuck…what you do to me.” Nick throws his head back, fingers hooked through my belt loops when I switch sides and bite gently on the other nipple. His chest is heaving when he tries to speak again, and it sounds more like speaking through moans than saying words. “I’ve been going mad waiting to have you again.” 

I crash my lips into Nick’s in response, urgently tugging my checked shirt off, keeping our kiss going. We’re frantically undressing ourselves and each other, kissing as much as possible. I’m unbuckling his belt, unzipping him, saliva pooling under my tongue when his erection falls forward in his pants, barely contained by the thin layer of fabric. I yank his jeans down over his arse, and Nick finishes the job for me, tearing his legs out of them comically fast, tossing them aside. They land in his laundry basket without him even looking. He’s shaking his arms out of his shirt as I lean back briefly, confidently ripping my t-shirt off this time. I’ve already been completely vulnerable to him in every way except this one–last week I kept on my mesh top–so it comes more easily this time, knowing how safe I feel. 

Nick groans, brow knitted in lust as he takes me in, his eyes traveling my naked torso in awe–in awe?! He steps closer to slide both of his hands up my back, pressing between my shoulder blades to bring our chests together and captures my mouth in another kiss. 

The energy shifts.

Holy shit. What is happening?

My heart races, our lips moving together slowly, more intentionally, and this kiss builds in intensity as I feel Nick’s arms drop, his hands finding my jeans to unzip me with agonizing care. He kneels in front of me, taking my jeans down with him, and helps me out of them,  just like he did in my room. The memory prods me with the relentless way he wanted me to feel good. 

He’s smiling up at me now as he takes off my socks. I stare down at him with wonder, a lump of mangled feelings in my throat that I try to will away–this is supposed to be hot not emotional.

Why are my socks making me fucking emotional?!

Nick seems to sense it, standing and frowning as he asks, “Is this okay?”

It’s more than okay, and it’s actually quite funny now I’ve taken in his disheveled hair, massive erection tenting his underwear and mismatched socks still on his feet. I blink away the tiniest bit of emotion that welled up, a fond smile creeping onto my face as his frown morphs into a hesitant smile too. 

“Yes, Luke, it’s very okay,” I say, wanting to stay on track. 

“Are you sure?” His eyes search mine, ignoring the silly name change, and it’s so sincere I cover my face with my hands, my own hard-on comically sticking out toward Nick’s through my own thin underwear. I make a strangled noise of horny exasperation. “What, Charlie?”

“I like you! So much! Everything you’re doing is very nice and very sexy and very wanted, and I just can’t believe it’s happening again.”

Nick looks relieved, taking my chin between his thumb and first finger, kissing me before he speaks again, sensing he needs to take charge for now. 

“Touch me.”

Oh my god.

Whatever weird emotional rollercoaster I was just on lets me off, and I focus solely on doing what he said, letting it ground me. I reach to grasp his cock through the fabric, running a flat palm down him to cup his balls, earning another gasp–a gasp which I lean forward to swallow, sliding my tongue in his mouth as I stroke his shaft lightly. 

When we’re both about to explode from the hot and heavy makeout sword fight, I fall back onto his bed taking him with me. We are quite literally stumbling into his bed together. It’s dreamier than I could've imagined, and I definitely didn’t have it on my bingo card for today. I had hoped he would find me again. I had wanted us to go back to my place. But as he’d led me past my street to his, I’d learned it was only a few streets away from mine. A three-minute walk at most. 

I’m going to be begging at his fucking doorstep every day now.

Something inside him must snap, because he tackles me further up the bed, somehow lifting me to lay my head on his pile of pillows. I feel myself sink into the mattress under his full, delicious weight, opening my legs to wrap them around his waist, and he hisses from the way we’re grinding together. 

“You feel so fucking good, Charlie.” Nick thrusts against me again, and I kind of can’t believe that we still have fabric between us. I could come like this, but I don’t want to come like this. I want to feel every vein and ridge of his against mine. I want it so, so badly.

So badly, that I pick at his waistband with my fingertips enough to slip my hand inside, greeted by the head of Nick’s leaking dick. He rolls his hips to fuck my fist shallowly a few times, his head buried in my neck where he’s swearing at the sensation of a foreskin massage. My breathing picks up, and I’m going to actually drool if I can’t suck him off or something.

“Take those off,” I tell him, mostly out of habit, especially after watching my partner feel good. Because I fall easily back into the role of boss in the bedroom, of being more comfortable giving pleasure than getting it. 

But that was before last week. 

Before I knew what it felt like to surrender to the guy who made me laugh and then blew my mind.

Nick raises his eyebrows as if I’ve spoken out of turn–despite his dick in my hand–and my stomach flips in anticipation at the way he’s pushed himself up to hover over me, his arms flexing and stomach no longer touching mine. 

“Excuse me?” he demands.

I pull my hand out, his waistband snapping back into place where it’s cutting off the trail of hair that has me salivating. 

“You heard me,” I hear myself bratting back, a naughty smile on my face to just own it. Whoops. 

“I did.” Nick is up on his knees and my legs have fallen open on the bed. “So how about you take those off?” 

“Nope,” I say defiantly, raising an eyebrow back at him, thrilled to see him accepting my little challenge. 

“Alright, we’re gonna have to fight,” Nick says, tone completely serious as he shrugs. I decide I want him to earn my submission tonight, and that if he doesn't, I am genuinely happy to be in charge. So I hook my foot behind his knee and shove him in the chest, hard. He coughs a surprised laugh, toppling over, and I straddle his hips just as I’m momentarily blinded by a faux down pillow to the face. 

“Oh you’re going down.” I grab another pillow and hit him back. 

“Down on you,” Nick says through a laugh, and remembering the feeling of being enveloped by his hot mouth leaves me vulnerable to his attack, so he’s able to easily flip me under him again. This time he grabs both of my wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of my head. 

Oh, fuck yes.

Nick lets go of my wrists and places each of his big palms on one of my thighs to push my legs open again. I’m so hard that it’s starting to hurt with no relief. 

Give in. 

Let him pleasure you. 

“Okay, fine!” I cave. I cave! My heart races as I lift my hips to obey him finally. “Take them off.”

He does, and his warm mouth is on me so quickly that I cry out. It is pure fucking ecstasy, and I am just here for the ride, gripping the back of his head with both hands and arching my back over the pile of pillows behind me. 

“Holy fuck, Nick!” 

“Mmm,” he says around my dick, sucking near the head gently while licking at my frenulum like a fucking pro. 

A fucking pro.

“Open,” he commands, holding two fingers up to my mouth, then pressing them in. I whine and moan around them, sucking, and he swears. “God, Charlie.” I see him rolling his hips against the duvet and find myself…jealous of the duvet. My hole flutters remembering the way he filled me last time. Before I can get too taken with that fantasy, he’s pushing my legs up and back more, so he can lightly press one of his fingers–wet with my saliva still–against my entrance. 

A pro, I tell you.

I’m bucking up off the bed when I feel him massage and increase pressure against my rim, taking my entire cock to the back of his throat and I feel orgasmic tingles start. 

“Nick, please…” I beg. “I’m so close…I don’t want it to be over yet,” I admit, and it feels extra vulnerable in this position, splayed out before him, needing him so much. “Can I…can I see all of you again?” 

“Yes.” He quickly takes off his pants, tossing them on the floor, and I hear the snick of a lube bottle while I’m left truly gawking at the way his gorgeous dick stands at attention for me. I’m barely able to process it when he’s back on top of me, drizzling both of us with lube then sliding our cocks together. He takes us both in his hand, grinding me down into the mattress.  

It is fucking divine.

“Oh, oh!” I moan and writhe under him, rolling my hips in time with his for seconds, minutes, hours–I have no idea. We’re sweaty and loud, and I’m gripping his shoulders, clinging to him as he moves over me, swearing when he looks between us and slowing down his pace when we kiss.

“Je vais te faire jouir comme jamais,” Nick grunts the words out through laboured breathing, and I feel myself float above my body at the sound of French on his beautiful lips. My orgasm hits me hard. I moan through it, spilling between us where Nick is watching reverently, mouth open and brow furrowed at the obscene way our cocks look thrusting into my spend together which has me coming even harder. He moves faster over me and comes with a cry, shaking and moving erratically until we’re both completely fucking spent. 

He collapses on me, kissing my sweaty neck and then my lips, slow and sensual. 

“Fucking hell, Luke,” I say, my chest heaving under him, trying to keep it lighter than I feel. I feel like I’m falling. 

I feel like he’ll catch me.

Guess I’m dating a Nick, then.

Chapter Text

Song Pairing
Spinning, HAIM

❌🙅🏻‍♂️

CHARLIE

“Bonjour, mon chéri!” Nick says in stupidly smooth, sexy French. His tone is overly sweet and smug, and of fucking course he is shirtless in tight black underwear, completing the look with socks covered in pawprints. His hair is mussed, his stubble looks amazing on him, and the fluid, expert way he’s moving around the kitchen–spinning in unnecessary circles to reach something across the worktop–is infuriatingly hot.

Okay, so I’ve decided that I’m dating Nick Nelson. 

But he doesn’t have to know that yet. 

In fact, I don’t think he wants to know that yet. I think he likes what we currently have, just as I do. No numbers. No social media. (Well besides when I stalk him from my secret @farmwitch lurker instagram account. He basically only posts inspirational teacher videos and puppies snuggling–despite being tagged in hundreds of sports reels and thirsty fan edits–and it annoyingly makes him even more endearing.) 

No actual dates. Just good old-fashioned stalking your neighbourhood sex partner.

“Hi,” I say reluctantly, fighting a grin. I’m slightly self-conscious in the over-sized joggers and band t-shirt he’d left out for me. I was briefly disappointed to roll over in bed just now to find him gone, but the scent of butter and bacon and coffee had me off the mattress immediately. 

He’s in front of me now, running his hands up and down my arms to my shoulders, leaning in for a chaste kiss. He pulls me into a hug and the resurgence of my morning wood is hugely inconvenient with how badly I have to pee. 

“God, you’re adorable! I wish you’d date me!” Nick says loudly, dramatically, and I cackle at him, rolling my eyes. 

“Nellie, shh!” Nick says when she barks at me, laying what can only be described as a smooch on my cheek before returning to his spot on the worktop. I suddenly realise I’m the world’s worst dog dad because I didn’t take Bailey outside yet. My own bladder is screaming at me, and I’m sure hers is too. She looks at me from Nick’s sofa, barely lifting her head to acknowledge my presence. Her tail wags happily where she’s snuggled up to Nellie, yet she doesn’t move to greet me. 

“Shit! I totally forgot Bailey was here, I slept so fucking well,” I’m rambling, absently looking for my shoes to take her outside.

“Oh, I took both daughters out in the garden already,” he says, and I cringe because Bailey can be very picky about finding the perfect spot on the lawn. “Did a little wee. Got a little treat. Was an angel.”

“Oh…thanks,” I say, sheepishly running a hand through my hair. “Be right back!”

I nip to the loo, leaning to glance out the window when I’m done, and I see a massive, beautifully manicured garden that I hadn’t exactly noticed yesterday when we’d stumbled into his house furiously making out. I couldn’t tell just how nice his place is–a lovely terraced house with loads of space. 

When I re-enter the room, I’m very aware of my small frame swimming in his large clothes, hoping I don’t look completely ridiculous.

“She didn’t eat any of Nellie’s food, though,” Nick says, with a slight pout and all the empathy for my mildly hungry Labrador. “We tried to share a bowl of biscuits with her, but she sniffed and really said my food at home is better.”

“Bailey, you fussy little eater!” I say, walking over to sit beside her on the sofa, and she happily licks my cheek then crawls to stretch out across my lap. I laugh and pet her soft ears, blushing when Nick winks at me, lifting a sieve to sprinkle a fine layer of sugar over what appear to be freshly baked croissants. I don’t feel the familiar pang of fear I get when eating around someone new. Especially someone I’m sleeping with. Instead, I just…want to eat. 

“Croissant, darling?” he asks, and I feel like I’m going to faint from the sheer number of ways he’s lighting up all my pleasure centers. My mouth waters, the scent heavenly, the sight of him has me swallowing hard at the memory of us coming together last night. The butterflies I have from how romantic it is to wake up to all this.

“Nick!” I groan, sure I am about to be swallowed up by the ridiculousness of all these lovely gestures. Certainly I do not deserve all this. I, who won’t date him. 

“Ooh, say my name again!” 

I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks flush even more when Nick blows me a kiss, sending a little cloud of icing sugar over the baking tray. He hums some tune I don’t recognise, rinses sugar off his hands and dries them, then starts walking over to me. 

“Budge up,” he says, and his messy hair, pants and socks outfit is so endearing. The plate of croissants he’s carrying pushes it over the edge to be unbearable. I collapse back onto the couch and groan, covering my face. “What?!” 

“Why do you have to be like this!?” 

Nick sets the plate on his dining table, then walks over to take a seat next to me. I run my hand over his thigh because I honestly can’t help it. 

“Why do I have to be like what?!” 

“French Speaking Sex God Talented Baker and Dog Dad Extraordinaire Hot Retired Rugby Player Nice Teacher Man! How is your name Nick? And why are you like this?!”

“Well, given your unfavourable view of dating my kind, I figure I’ve gotta go big or go home.” He turns on the sofa to face me better, tucking one of his feet under the other leg. I let myself stare longingly at the bulge between his legs for a few seconds, then dart my eyes away when he says, “My eyes are up here.”

I blush, and suddenly his face is much closer to mine.  He grins into a kiss, running his hand up the back of my neck to deepen it. I’m pretty sure I whimper, or make some other desperate, embarrassing noise, leaning into him and chasing it when he pulls away. 

Bailey huffs and slides onto the floor, and Nellie flips onto her back, spreading out at the new space on the sofa. 

“Trop mignonne!” Nick says, face bunched up in cute aggression at the adorable little things our actual daughters are doing. My insides are a melted mess, remembering the French dirty talk from last night. 

“What did that mean last night? At the end there?”

“Uh, that our bodies felt very, very good together like that so–”

“Nick! I meant the French!” 

Nick instantly wears a naughty expression, repeating the phrase in French again–RIP my normal bloodflow–then translating it. 

“Je vais te faire jouir comme jamais,” Nick says, and I bite my lip really hard for something to do besides faint. “It means…” he starts, in an exaggerated French accent that makes me giggle when his breath tickles my ear “...I'm going to make you come like you never have before.” 

And did he ever.

I throw myself into his lap and straddle him, pulling him into a kiss with both hands on his cheeks. I dip to kiss eagerly along his collarbone. I’ve decided I’m fine with coming across as too keen. 

“Can I please mark you?” I ask. Well, beg. 

“Fuck.” Nick sounds breathless, gripping my hips and tipping his head back to expose more of his throat. “Yes.”

My stomach grumbles mid-suck and he chuckles, pulling back. 

“You’re hungry,” he pouts.

“For you!” I argue, continuing my kisses, so annoyed with my traitorous body for choosing the scent of  buttery heaven over Nick’s blank canvas of a neck. 

“Charlie. We need to eat,” he says, but it doesn’t feel like he’s making a bigger deal of it because of my eating disorder history. It feels like a normal thing to say to someone whose stomach is grumbling. 

Nick easily stands, holding my bum to take me with him, so I cling to his bare torso like a koala, giggling. He walks us over to set me on the worktop–making a sultry mmm noise when he sees my erection tenting his joggers, like he wants to gobble me up as well. I wrap my legs around his waist and he swears. “You minx!”

“Mmhmm. Take note, Nicholas,” I say into his mouth, rolling my hips up off the worktop and into his. “So, does Nicholas annoy you less than Nick?” he asks hopefully, rolling his hips back into mine in reply, like they’re having their own conversation while we talk above them.

“Honestly? Yeah, kinda,” I say, laughing. “One of the other Nicks was ‘not a Nicholas’. It was Just Nick, which was somehow worse?”

He laughs into another kiss. It’s becoming my favourite kind. “Well, by all means, please call me Nicholas. Sounds like I’m a little bit in trouble, which I’m fine with, if it’s with you.”

Nick pulls back from me with great restraint when a loud grumble from my stomach interrupts us again. He dips to pull my shirt up and places kisses across my stomach, along the waistband. I roll my eyes through a smile automatically as a defense against the utterly ridiculous fondness it makes me feel for him. He straightens up and shifts his focus to the croissants, taking a perfect-looking crescent-shaped pastry. He holds the crispy, flaky layers of no doubt complete deliciousness up to take a bite, which leaves sugar on his nose and chin.  

“That is fucking amazing. Well done, me.” Nick holds up the same croissant to my mouth, and I take a big bite, surprising myself at the comfort I feel with him.

“HOLY FUCK,” I say through a messy bite, reverently chewing. 

“Right?!” Nick says, proudly taking another bite then speaking with a full mouth in a way that has me smiling in an unfamiliar way. My face simply has not smiled softly before. I lean back on my arms, wanting to admire him. “Three fucking days of painstaking work right here.”

“Mmm, this is how you get all the hot rugby fans to stay for round two, isn’t it?” I tease, then lace my fingers behind his neck. 

“Shut up. I am retired from rugby and dating apps, as you know.”

I cackle, throwing my head back, then suck in a bothered breath when he starts to leave open-mouthed kisses down my throat, sending a rush of butterflies through me. He slides his wide palms over my thighs through his joggers a few times, inching his way in the direction I want him.

“That’s a relief, because as you know, I am not dating you,” I say through unsteady breaths, turning my head to make my neck better available to him. 

“Are teeth okay?” Nick asks in a low voice, ignoring my comment. He bites at my collarbone a little when I nod eagerly, and I want to scream. 

“I’m not dating you…” I try again, and he laughs against neck. His warm breath is torture. “You know, because of your name.”

“Of course.” Nick nods seriously, then moves his hands to the worktop on either side of my bum, cupping me there and pulling me into him, his growing hardness pressed into mine now. “Run for the hills.” 

I sit up, grinding against him a little more forcefully, and we both moan into a kiss. 

Has anything ever been this pleasurable in my entire life? 

All my senses are taken over by him in the most delicious way.

“I want more,” I hear myself whine. 

“Oh! Here…” Nick picks up a different croissant, holds it to my mouth, and we each take a bite from our end, Lady and the Tramp style. I chew and giggle, tossing the rest of the croissant to the side and swallowing before pulling Nick into another sugary kiss.  

He pulls back and stands up taller, my mouth and hips chasing his. I watch as he stretches his neck side-to-side in quite the display of beautiful shoulders, hopefully preparing for the physically draining act of sex with me. 

“Alright, shall we?” Nick says, nodding his head toward his bedroom, as if he can’t stand another second of teasing. I’m finding I quite like the teasing part when it’s up to him.

“Hmm,” I pretend to debate, pointing to his clothes on my body still. “I probably should take these off…so I don’t steal them.”

“I know where you live, I’ll get them back,” Nick says confidently. He dips to plant a rough kiss on this spot that drives me crazy–where my jaw meets my neck. “You did get a lot of sugar on them though.” He makes a tsk-tsk sound that reminds me of us a week ago in my own bedroom where he told me what to do. 

“Um, that was you!” I say pinching a bit of sugar spilled next to me and sprinkling it in his hair. His mouth falls open in betrayal while he pats and shakes his hair out.

“Oh, this is war!” Nick shouts, tossing a cloud of sugar at me. 

“No fair! I’m trapped up here!” Nellie woofs as I splutter and cough, laughing and ducking away, reaching for anything I can toss at him. My left hand comes up to block a new cloud of flour  from Nick this time while my right hand finds the croissant we each took a bite of to fling at him. 

The half-eaten croissant bounces off his face in slow motion. 

“That’s it!” he says with a voice that belongs to a giant teddy bear and thus feels like an empty declaration at best. He tosses me over his shoulder instantly, giving my arse two firm smacks, rendering me speechless. “I think we’re dirty enough now. Time to shower.”

I kick my legs half heartedly over his shoulder, and he just tells me to behave–holy shit–and when I see him toss a handful of dog treats across the rug to occupy them, I am absolutely swooning. Maybe it’s the blood rushing to my head, but I think it’s just that he’s so dreamy and thoughtful and sexy.

I upside-down watch him kick the door to his bedroom closed with one foot behind him, humming to himself purposefully. As he continues walking us to the ensuite, I turn my head to register his bed more clearly–as clearly as one can upside down with one’s erection smashed into one’s non-date date’s shoulder. The spindles of his headboard remind me of one of my first dirty thoughts about him, and I make a mental note to bring up handcuffs at some point. Maybe. If we see each other again soon. Or whenever we see each other again. Okay it’ll be soon. When I show up at his doorstep and beg… 

Suddenly, I’m upright again, feet cold on the tiled floor, and I reach out for his forearms to steady myself because I feel a bit lightheaded. 

“My blood is so confused about where to go right now,” I say with a quiet laugh as my head spins. I try to focus on my surroundings, taking in his bathroom. The shower has glass doors and a bench along one wall. The cream-coloured tiles look expensive and new, perfectly complimenting the sink and light green walls. I wonder if he chose them or if some designer did. 

“You okay?” Nick asks hesitantly, with a bit of a sheepish smile-grimace. I nod at him dreamily, my body lit up and grounded again with the possibility of what’s about to happen, watching him turn the shower on. He turns back toward me, scratching the back of his neck adorably. “You sure? I should’ve asked…and I want you to tell me if something’s not okay. Did I go too far with the over-the-shoulder and the spanking?”

Just hearing that word out of his mouth has me on him in seconds. My hands are rough in his hair as we kiss hard, his hands flat on my hips, swiftly dipping under the waistband to his joggers and pulling them off of me. My cock jumps out since I have nothing underneath, and Nick’s eyes darken. I trace the pulse thundering under the delicate skin of his throat with my index finger as he takes me in, his mirror completely fogged now. 

Nick tugs his shirt over my head, and I step out of the joggers, slightly self-conscious in a way that turns me on more. The fact that he’s still wearing his black pants is thrilling for me, standing here naked for him and wanting. I reach for his waistband, hook a finger over it and pull, feeling my mouth pool with saliva at the sight of his treasure trail. 

“Can I?” I ask, my hands and voice shaking. He doesn’t move my hand at first, looking up to the ceiling as if he’s deliberating. My arms drop to hang uselessly at my sides when he tips my chin up the way he did last night–this time with more force in a way that makes my knees buckle–and brushes his lips against mine. 

“No.” 

When his lips say the word, it morphs into a messy kiss. 

“No?” I ask against his lips with mild devastation as my cock throbs against his thigh. 

“No,” he repeats, then flips me so my back is to his chest and his hard dick is pressed against my arse through the fabric he won’t let me take off of him. 

“Fuck,” I can barely get out, letting my head fall back on his shoulder as he slowly walks me a few more steps toward the water. 

“Get in my shower,” Nick breathes into my ear with this low, commanding tone that I pretend he reserves just for me–that I bring it out in him. “Sit on the bench.”

“Ohmygod. Yes, Nicholas.” I breathe in the steamy air, stepping inside to do as I’m told, and my stomach drops with the intensity of his gaze. He’s hovering at the shower door, elbow propped up above his head on the frame, his bicep and the patch of hair beneath it are somehow more pornographic than my own leaking cock at attention for him. 

“God, I want you, Charlie. I thought about you all fucking week.” Nick licks his lips–as if he didn’t just have me last night–and I can’t help the whiny noise that escapes my mouth, water pelting my legs. “And here you are…cornered. Waiting for me. All mine.”

God that’s doing it for me. 

“I am, I’m all yours,” I say, and I know it’s a little role play situation. Slightly kinky boyfriends. But…fuck do I mean it in this moment. So I’m going to pretend he means it too. 

If Nick were all mine…

My jaw is on the floor when Nick lifts the waistband over his massive erection, stepping out of his pants and into the shower with me. Water whooshes behind him where he’s towering over me.

Holy fucking shit, he’s hot. 

Nick takes himself in his hand, stepping closer to me, and my mouth instinctively falls open again. My brow hurts from the way it’s permanently furrowed in horny agony. 

“So desperate,” he teases, tapping the head of his cock on my lips, and the salty taste of him has me gripping the bench on either side of my thighs. “Be good, Charlie. No touching unless I say.” 

“Nick!” I moan his name, my own cock aching where he’s standing over me. The way no man has ever gotten me to act anywhere close to this level of needy for him. I kiss the head of him gently, maintaining eye contact, wondering how he’ll respond. “Oh, fuck. Have it then. Go ahead.”

Nick inserts himself through my lips then falls forward with his palms wide on the wall above my head, holding himself up. I reach up to roll his balls while I take him as deep as I can. I feel so full, and a sense of calm washes over me at the quiet, filthy intimacy of it all. 

I revel in the way his hips thrust slowly in and out of my hot mouth, wondering how someone so funny and talented and kind is also this depraved and sexually intense with me. I move forward, on and off of him to meet his thrusts, sucking harder each time he pulls out because he moans when I do it. The sounds he’s making reverberate off the walls, and I start hoping for him to come, for him to flood my mouth. I still haven’t had that privilege yet, of really tasting Nick. And I want it so, so badly in this moment. 

“Shit, I’m gonna come like this.”

Please come. 

Instead, he pulls out and drops to his knees, and I cry out as I’m enveloped in the heat of his mouth, threading my fingers through his hair. After only a minute of him bobbing up and down on me, his hands holding down my hips, I tighten my grip and tug a moan out of him. 

“Nick, I want to watch you touch yourself. Please?” I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t watch him come. 

He pops off of me.

“No. Stand up.”

Jesus fuck.

“Okay,” I try and wobble, so he breaks his dom persona to smile softly at me and help me upright. He kisses me sweetly as our cocks bump together, and I really want to be his. I want, I want, I want…

“Hands over your head again, love.”  

Love. 

Nick flips me to face the wall, shower water pouring over us from the left, and again I obey, lifting my arms over my head.

“Cross your wrists,” he orders, and I do, pressing them into the tiled wall above my head. He kicks my feet apart, hands gripping my hips so I don’t fall, and his ability to just throw me around this shower is fucking hot. I feel him trace a finger down my spine, continuing between my cheeks, and I suck a breath in when he separates me and moans. “My god, Charlie. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I feel his teeth bite one of my arse cheeks, then the sting of a smack on the other. 

“Fucking hell, Nick.”

He nibbles at my ear. “You love to be my plaything, don’t you?”

I nod against the tiles, smiling and breathless, my forehead resting on them, feeling completely exposed and completely safe. “God, I do.”

He delivers another smack across my arse, the sound intensifying the sensation as I let him have me. 

“Gorgeous,” Nick says, tracing the outline of his handprint on my wet skin. He runs his hands up and down my sides, then up my stomach to pinch each of my nipples. I let my head fall back on his shoulder again as he speaks again, directly into my ear. Hot tingles shoot down my neck and to my groin with the way his voice is hidden away from the world, just for me, beneath the hissing shower water. “Is the temperature okay? Water pressure?”

I’m in Nick Nelson’s shower getting played like a cello, the water pressure is fucking fine. 

All I can manage is a somewhat squeaky sound of agreement and a keen nod, my cheek rubbing against his until he moves to kiss my neck. Nick chuckles, sounding pleased with himself for reducing me to this, and honestly? He should be. The odds were not in his favour. 

He licks and sucks and teases my neck with his teeth, yet all of my being is wired to be very aware of the nudging and prodding feeling of Nick’s hardness behind me while he marks my neck and collarbone.

I writhe in pleasure and arch my back to press my arse into his slick cock. He gasps and swears, and I turn my head on the shower wall when I see him reaching for something in my periphery. I can barely register his press on the pump of a bottle before I feel his cock slide between my cheeks, back and forth across my entrance deliciously.

“Oh, Nick,” I moan, more to myself than him. It sounds different coming from me with this Nick. This Nick is different. I want to turn around and kiss him. I want to beg him. I never want to leave him. “Please kiss me.”

I feel his hand clamp down on my wrists where they’re still crossed over me, holding me in place.

“Stay.”

So, so different.

He lets go of my wrists–believe me, I stay–then reaches up to turn my head to the side, capturing my lips in a messy, urgent kiss. He adjusts his stance and pushes my legs back together around him. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, starting to thrust into my thighs now, nails digging into my hips. I’m biting my lip and staring down at my own neglected dick, unsure of whether I want him to touch me or leave me to blissfully suffer. The memory of our first chat–of helplessly watching him come while I throbbed painfully in my pants, ignored–has kept me going for weeks now.  

The hot water, the steam, the groans of exertion in my ear, the slap of skin, the way his cock slips back and forth against me–it all makes me feel like I’m going to explode. He’s fucking my thighs with full energy, my hands are tingling from being raised for so long, and just when I can’t take it anymore, he pulls my arms down behind my back. 

“I’m close…are you going to come for me, Charlie?” he asks me through ragged breaths, still crashing his hips into my arse, sliding back and forth between my thighs. “Are you going to come hard when I say to?” 

“Y–yes. Yes, I’ll–” Nick drops my wrists and wraps my right hand around my own erection, and I moan so loudly I’m certain he’ll have neighbour complaints. His hand is around mine, timing the pace and pressure of our hands flying over my cock while he rocks forcefully into my thighs. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, Charlie. I want you to come with me.” 

“I will, I…” I’m squeezing my thighs around him and reaching up with my free hand to tug at Nick’s fringe just as we both lose it.

“Now! Come!” He bites my shoulder as my orgasm hits hard, erupting from me as Nick and I groan loudly together, thrusting erratically through a tidal wave of pleasure. “Fuck, fuck! Charlie, oh my god. Charlie!” 

I feel his warm release drip down my legs, looking down past my own pulsing dick to see the head of his cock shooting more onto the shower wall through my thighs. A stream of our cum slides down the wall, mixing together, and it’s the dirtiest, hottest thing I have experienced as I feel one more pulse surge out of me at the sight of it. He holds me tight to his chest as we shudder through the end of it, and I collapse back against him. 

“Oh my fucking god, Charlie.”

Nick turns me around gently, and we kiss slowly, water pelting us, his arms wrapped around me and his face in my hands. We make out for hours, days, who knows how long…and eventually wash each other, running our hands everywhere unhurriedly. Nick touches me reverently, and where I’ve always rolled my eyes to put a wall up with other men, I just whole-heartedly believe his tender caresses and melt into him. 

We don’t say anything for a long time, drying off, glancing curiously at each other with knowing, flirty smiles when we catch the other looking. 

Nick breaks the silence first. “I need to run to the shops and do a few things today, but you and Bailey are welcome to stay here and cuddle with Nellie? I should be back by six or so?” Nick asks, sounding hopeful, while he threads his belt through the loops of his jeans. Jeans that fit him perfectly. I sigh contentedly then choose a snarky reply.

“I don’t spend my days in the homes of strange Nicks waiting for them to return. No thanks,” I joke, wishing I could do exactly that–that I could have a lie-in and let him bring me freshly baked things in bed.  

“Ah, yes. Forgot you have no taste,” Nick laughs, miming a phew forehead swipe. Then puts on his watch in a few decisive movements, the way a self-assured man I’m dating and refusing to admit that I’m dating would. 

“Do better, Nicholas. Set reminders on your expensive watch or something.” I smirk to myself, throwing my clothes from yesterday back on, hoping the thoughtful way Nick hung them up in his wardrobe won’t leave them too creased and therefore make it obvious I am his trollop on a walk of shame. I check my reflection in his bathroom mirror, and I look like a freshly-showered, normal thirty-year-old.  

Nick appears in the mirror behind me, and my stomach swoops at the memory of being pinned against his shower wall. He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck, then rests his chin on my shoulder to watch me fix my hair. He stands taller to gently twist a few of my curls into place. He’s so fucking fit in a crisp, white collared shirt, stepping to my side to button it in the mirror, and it’s so domestic and sweet that when we leave the bathroom, I’m half convinced he already thinks we’re boyfriends. I guess I do too. Though I realise I have a lot of questions about him, his family, his money and his new life in London that I should probably know the answer to before officially breaking my No Nicks rule. 

“Nah,” I say more seriously. “Bailey and I need to get back and I have Sunday Scaries activities to tend to. Lots of scheduling for work and things to get on top of.” 

“Add me to the list, I love when you get on top of me,” Nick flips me around and I get really intense, inconvenient butterflies when I’m trying to find the will to leave and be an adult. 

“Niiiick. Let me go start my adulting. Otherwise I’ll never leave!” I quickly hold up my index finger to his lips to stop any further ridiculous verbal swoon attacks about how he never wants me to leave. He bites my finger playfully, and it reminds me of our dogs outside waiting for us. Hopefully Bailey doesn't think he was murdering me in here–I don't think she’s ever heard me shout like I just did. My face warms at that, feeling self-conscious about it, even though it seemed like Nick loved how loud I was. “Plus, my daughter is waiting on me.”

“Okay, well at least let me pack up some croissants for you before you leave.” Nick shoots me a wink as he opens his bedroom door, and we both freeze at the scene before us. 

An explosion of sugar and flour has apparently blown up Nick’s kitchen. There’s one black Labrador looking pretty guilty, but not enough to stop licking sugar and flour off the floor—a bag of each knocked off the worktop where there’s a border collie laying in a pile of it. It appears to have left a fine layer of dry ingredients on literally everything in the kitchen. 

Nellie ignores us when Nick and I both gasp at the same time, and Bailey’s guilty little tail wag starts. Nellie hops up, moving to shove her nose back in the flour bag. 

“Nellie Nelson! How could you!?” Nick says over my impressed laughter, hand over my mouth and jaw dropped. “And Bailey? You too!? You’re supposed to be a good influence on her!” 

“That’s right, Bailey! You’re a guest! You’re gonna get us permanently kicked out of here, and I really want to come back!” I blurt out, immediately regretting it when I see Nick’s melty happy face complete with blushy freckles. 

“What?!”

“What do you mean ‘what’?! You just admitted you want to come here again!” Nick says, pointing an accusatory finger. “Sounds like you’re…dating me or something.”

“It’s just sex, Nicholas,” I say contentedly, and he narrows his eyes at me, fighting a knowing smile. 

Play my game, Nick. 

“You’re right. But maybe I’ll get that name change after all. Do you accept Nicholas as a middle name instead? Luke Nicholas?”

I scrunch my nose involuntarily, realising I quite like Nicholas Luke Nelson. The name and the person and the appendage. 

Bailey ducks her head in shame and walks over to me with her tail tucked seeking forgiveness. She licks my hand gingerly, then does the same to Nick, even more hesitantly.

“Oh, I can’t be mad at you, angel!” he says to Bailey, crouching to give her pets, and I cannot stop my hands from pulling my phone out to snap a picture. Nick doesn’t notice. My dog, covered in powder looking like a disaster and my neighbor dating app guy that I have sex with sometimes–just looking adorable together. I tell myself I’ll delete it in a few months when he inevitably does his Nick Thing–whatever it ends up being–and everything is ruined for us. But for now, I want it. A tiny, hopeful part of me can see it framed in our future home together, but I squash that shit fast, focusing on my dog. Her tail slowly relaxes, wagging more, and I do my best to help soothe her with pets. But I just end up laughing so hard at the complete shambles of a kitchen. 

I look over to where Nick is standing again as he’s taking a picture of the entire ridiculous scene now, Nellie still entirely content to be bad and not worried about getting in trouble. 

“Okay, let’s get them out in the garden so I can clean up, yeah?” Nick asks, already herding the bad dogs outside. “And maybe they’ll roll in the grass and get some of it off.”

“Yes. Also I am obviously going to help you!” I say, literally rolling my sleeves up.

“But it’s my fault for leaving the ingredients all sitting out.”

“Well, I’m not usually eager to throw myself under the bus in this rel–situationship,” I try, and Nick rolls his eyes. “...but I was completely naughty here earlier. I think we share the blame?” I bite my lip, flirting. 

“Okay, fine,” Nick concedes, biting his lip too. We crouch and reach and swipe and spray to clean the entire mess away as my brain unhelpfully points out how good of a team we make. We tell stories about when Nellie and Bailey were puppies, and it’s just far too…coupley. 

Once we let the girls back in and I’ve got my shoes on, I’m looking for Bailey’s lead. Nick clears his throat, and when I turn around, he looks like a fucking model in his jeans and white shirt holding the lead in one hand and what looks to be a bakery takeaway box–does he just have those?

“What’s that?”

“The croissants! So if you get hungry later, you’ll have a snack.”

“You’re the best,” I say, and regret it immediately when his eyebrows jump excitedly. I change my tone to unaffected, jokingly pushing the container toward him. “I mean! Nah, I’m not hungry.”

“You are not rejecting the croissants that I have lovingly baked for you the last three days!”

“Honestly, I’m not. I can’t keep up this nonchalant charade. I’m taking the croissants.”

“You might want to look up the definition of nonchalant, just saying…” Nick teases.

I ignore his comment, hooking Bailey’s lead on. She hesitates as I walk through his doorway and tug gently to get her to follow. Nellie straight up whinges at us, letting her feelings be known. I cave, dipping to pet her, scratching behind her ears. 

“Aw, don’t be sad! Maybe your dad will take you out to stalk us in our home again soon!”

“Or maybe he won’t!” Nick huffs unconvincingly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Uh huh, sure,” I say, nodding, then booping his nose before we walk away from his front door and into the crisp air. “Thanks for the croissants!”

“Charlie!” Nick pouts as I tug my beanie on. I don’t even know what he’s pouting about. I kiss him on the cheek and give him a long hug which seems to calm him a bit.

“Anyway!” I say, letting him go and waving as we walk down his steps outside. “Great sex!”

“That’s my line!” Nick complains, hands on his hips now.

“Bye, then! Off to adult!” I blow him a kiss, turning to walk in the direction of my flat. 

It feels lovely to have snatched a little bit of my pride back. 

Dating Nick Nelson is so much fun.

❌🙅🏻‍♂️