Chapter Text
Nick noticed Charlie staring at his arms about ten minutes ago.
He found Charlie’s fascination simply adorable, but decided not to push it, and chose to let Charlie say something whenever he was ready.
Nick watched Charlie’s face twist, contort, and redden through his own thoughts until he finally blurted, “I really like your arms, y’know?”
Charlie seemed embarrassed to have said it, but was too preoccupied with staring to apologize.
Nick made a mental note to distract Charlie with his arms to prevent him from incessant apologizing in the future.
“I noticed,” Nick said, teasing him gently, and Charlie looked bashful. “Thank you, Char. I like your everything.”
“They just look so strong,” Charlie continued, as if he had not even heard Nick. He swallowed. He reached out to trace a finger along the curve of Nick’s bicep. “You have such strong rugby arms.”
“Strong rugby arms?” Nick echoed, amused.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, breathless. He bit down on his lower lip. “They’re strong. You’re, er, strong. Very strong.”
Nick grinned. “Yeah?”
Charlie, suddenly bashful again, dropped his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m being weird.”
“No, no. You’re not. You can, um, still do that,” Nick said, and reached down to grab Charlie’s hands. He lifted them back to his arms. “Here.”
Charlie looked unsure for a moment. Then, he stroked along Nick’s biceps with the flats of his fingertips. He was still staring at them and looked highly distracted.
Nick closed his eyes and hummed. He felt entirely at peace with Charlie’s fingers moving rhythmically along his skin.
Charlie’s touch brought a crop of goosebumps over Nick’s skin. He shuddered under his fingers, and inhaled sharply.
“You okay?” Charlie asked.
Nick opened his eyes. He inhaled, reached down to suddenly pick Charlie up, lifting him into his arms. “Yep! I’m great.”
Charlie yelped, surprised by the sudden loss of gravity. “Nick!”
Nick laughed. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
Nick laughed again, throwing his head back, and then hauled Charlie up against the wall; he was careful to not let Charlie hit his head. He did not have an answer for his boyfriend because, truthfully, he was not sure, but he was doing what felt right to him in that moment.
And this felt right.
He had Charlie against the wall, his legs scrambling, but eventually locking around Nick’s waist. Charlie was laughing loudly, his head turned up, his neck exposed, his legs tightening around Nick’s midsection.
“You’re so weird,” Charlie said, giggling.
“Maybe a little,” Nick said, shrugging. He tapped Charlie’s nose.
Charlie looked like sunshine itself in Nick’s arms.
Then, Nick felt very serious.
He also felt extremely nervous. Briefly, his stomach twisted uneasily. He chewed his lower lip, and chose to kiss Charlie’s nose to distract himself from his anxiety.
Something had been on his mind for over two weeks now: Nick badly wanted to move forward with their relationship, physically.
But he was not sure how Charlie felt. The last thing he wanted to do was make Charlie feel nervous or uncomfortable; he was already shy around Nick.
There was only one way to figure out how Charlie felt though: they had to talk.
“Charlie,” Nick said slowly, and it came out not as a question, but as a statement. He said it like a fact. Am acknowledgement. Because, yes.
He had Charlie there, in his arms, and it was everything.
Charlie smiled. He trailed his hands up Nick’s arms; they were flexed, using their strength to keep Charlie pinned to the wall.
“See?” Charlie managed. His voice was unusually raspy. “Strong—rugby arms.”
Nick swallowed. “Yeah.”
“What are you thinking about?” Charlie said in a quiet voice. He frowned at Nick. “You have your thinking face on. What is it?”
“I’m just—thinking about,” Nick began, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt, “us.”
“Is that good?” Charlie asked, his face faltering. He looked worried suddenly.
“Yes, Char,” Nick said, and thumbed over Charlie’s face in an attempt to reassure him. “Very good. Don’t worry.”
Charlie exhaled, relieved. “Then—what?”
“Um,” Nick said, unsure of where to begin. He felt warm all over; he had rehearsed it over and over in his head the other day, but now that it was real and right in front of him, he felt nauseous. “Charlie? Do you ever think about… taking the next step? With—me?”
Charlie’s eyebrows drew close, and then, an instant later, his jaw went slack with understanding. “Oh.”
Nick immediately regretted saying anything. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I? I shouldn’t have said anything. It was too soon. I knew I would freak you out—”
“Nick,” Charlie said firmly.
Nick swallowed. He closed his eyes. “Yes?”
Charlie used his legs to pull Nick’s lower half to his own, and it was Nick’s jaw that immediately went slack because—fucking, hell—Charlie had become hard.
“Oh—my—God,” Nick stammered, looking down between them. The friction was wonderful, and made him feel even warmer. It was becoming harder to focus on holding Charlie and keeping himself upright; his legs felt like jelly. “Oh. Charlie. Wow.”
“Is that okay?” Charlie asked. His voice was hoarse. “Do you like that?”
Charlie’s question was innocent enough, but the way he had asked it made Nick want to grab him by his ridiculous curls and crush him closer.
So. Nick did.
Nick grabbed a handful of Charlie’s curls and gave them a slight tug.
Charlie had the absolute audacity to let out a moan. It was sinful, really.
Fuck, Nick was done for.
Nick pushed his hips forward, between Charlie’s legs again. He could feel Charlie’s erection and could have melted there, between his legs, and stayed forever.
Charlie moaned, this time higher and in the back of his throat. “Fuck! Oh, Nick. That’s so good.”
Nick was sweating, he realized. He used his arms to brace himself and kissed Charlie, hard and urgent, and began to rock against Charlie more quickly. He could not get close enough.
Charlie made the most obscene noises against Nick’s mouth. Again, sinful.
Nick had never seen this side of his boyfriend, and he simply adored it. Instead of appearing shy or nervous, he was entirely enjoying himself—basking in it, even.
It was quite a sight.
Nick’s hair was damp and stuck to his head. He tightened his grip on Charlie, pushing forward and relishing the way he reacted to each touch.
The friction was becoming far too much. Nick could feel a heat building in his lower abdomen, one he was familiar with, one he had only experienced on his own, when he had one hand below the sheets, and the other over his mouth to silence himself.
It was messy and fast.
“Charlie,” Nick groaned, warning. “I’m gonna—”
“Me too,” Charlie whispered. His eyes had a glazed look, and his head tilted back again; Nick took the chance to press a few open-mouthed kisses along the soft, vulnerable skin there.
Nick groaned against Charlie’s neck as he finished. He had never come so spectacularly hard, and his vision had grown white. He shuddered, his mouth falling open, sweat dripping down over his forehead, his hands shaking, his legs ready to give out.
He felt Charlie clutch at him and gasp. He must have come at that moment, because his head hit the wall. He gasped again, a low, “Nick.”
It felt like ages before they both came down from their highs.
Nick eventually, very shakily, set Charlie down. His arms had grown weak, and his legs were still ready to collapse beneath him. His hair clung to his forehead, and he must have looked like had just finished a rugby match.
He felt that way, but much, much better.
“Wow,” Nick said, his arms still around Charlie, but they had both slumped to the ground. “Fucking—wow.”
“Wow,” Charlie echoed.
His eyes were wide, like saucers. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, his mouth swollen and pink. He looked wrecked.
“Yeah?” Nick asked hopefully.
“Oh yeah,” Charlie said, still catching his breath. “Holy—shit. I can’t believe we did that. That was. So good. You—you are so good.”
Nick swallowed and pressed Charlie’s curls back, kissing his forehead. “Are you okay, then? That wasn’t too much, was it?”
“Not at all,” Charlie assured him. He looked exhausted and spent, but he had a glow to him that Nick had not seen before. “You were wonderful. So, so wonderful.”
Nick’s expression was soft. “You’re the one who’s wonderful.”
Their hands tangled together.
“I do need to, uh,” Charlie said, and looked extremely sheepish, “need to get out of these pants, if possible.”
“Hmm?” Nick asked, a little sleepy. He blinked with realization and looked more awake at once. “Oh. Oh! Right! Fuck. Oops. Sorry.”
Charlie giggled. “It’s okay. Maybe we could change and watch a movie?”
Nick kissed his forehead again; he loved doing that and feeling Charlie’s curls under his fingers as he pushed them back. “I’d love that.”
“I’ll tell you what, though,” Charlie commented. “We are gonna do that again very soon, Mr. Strong Rugby Arms.”
Nick answered, resolutely, “Sign me up.”