Archive of Our Own

Charlie Spring hadn’t gone on a date in a long time. A long time.

That was the only reason this was happening. It had been ages since he’d gone on a date, not since he had started physiotherapy school (and had kept a barista job at Badgers Café and had moved to Leeds). Charlie had been incredibly busy and quite literally hadn’t had the time that was needed for internet dating, which felt like another full-time job. An incredibly unrewarding, slightly toxic, should-be-filled-with-HR-complaints job. That was the only reason Charlie had finally been convinced to go on this date despite his better judgement. 

Well, that and the fact that Ben was really attractive. 

Ben had come into the coffee shop where Charlie worked at least once a week for several months. Charlie couldn’t lie, he was an incredibly good-looking man, even if there was just something about him that made Charlie’s stomach squirm, and not in the fun way. He had a swoop of brown hair that fell over his eyes just so, and Charlie found himself idly wondering how much time Ben spent cultivating that effortlessly windswept look. Ben had a chiselled jaw, handsome dark eyes, and prominent cheekbones. He was an objectively attractive man, one that made other patrons in Badger Café whisper and giggle when he walked in. 

Charlie also wouldn’t lie that it felt pretty good to have Ben’s eyes constantly on him when he came into the Café, Ben ignoring the giggling women who looked at him under long eyelashes. Here was a man that felt like he was slightly out of Charlie’s league who always shamelessly flirted with him, asking questions about Charlie’s life that Charlie had deflected at first, finally answering them after months of Ben wearing him down with warm attention. Charlie knew that Ben was single (and Ben had learned that Charlie was, too), he knew that Ben worked in admissions at an elite private school (Ben knew Charlie was in training to be a physiotherapist) and Charlie knew that Ben was very, very interested in going on a date with him.

Charlie wasn’t sure why he had held back for so long, demurring when Ben asked him what he was doing on a specific weekend or giving vague answers about when he would be off work. 

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Charlie had said to Amy, who was in the same physiotherapy program as him. She also worked at the coffee shop, and if Charlie hadn’t loved her so much, he was sure they would have killed each other, since they spent nearly every waking hour together. She drove him mad and was his best friend in the world. 

“Something like what?” Amy asked with a yawn one morning after taking her routine shot of squirty cream right from the can. “Ah, that’s better,” she said, smacking her lips and closing her eyes in bliss, tossing her red hair over her shoulder.

“You’re disgusting,” Charlie said mildly, watching her do things to the cream canister that were probably illegal in most of the world, or at the very least, age-restricted. 

“Don’t dairy-shame me,” Amy said lightly, setting the canister down. “Let me have this moment of aerated, lactose-filled happiness.” She handed Charlie one of the iced lattes she’d made and tapped her cup against his. “Cheers.” They were opening that morning and it was just the two of them, the way Charlie preferred it. “What is it about him that you’re not into? Is it the fact that he just looks like he’s got a picture of him grinning next to a tiger on his dating profile? Because he totally does.”

Charlie snorted. “Wait, is that a thing?”

“Get on the apps, my celibate friend. It’s such a thing.”

Charlie rolled his eyes at the jibe, though it was basically true. Charlie hadn’t hooked up with anyone since something close to the Thatcher days. To be honest, he was getting a little over the woeful lack of touching in his life. “God, I can’t imagine why I’m not on them. They just sound amazing.”

“Oh, they’re fucked,” Amy said cheerily. “Online dating is like a real-life version of Saw, where the pits of needles are just first dates of guys named Matt or Todd or Seb who think that, ‘yeah, Elon Musk may be crazy, but he’s a genius.’”

Charlie laughed again. “And you keep doing it because…?”

“Because eventually there’s going to be the actual real thing waiting after you sweep aside all of the shit,” said Amy with a shrug. “Or if not, at least you can get laid in the meantime and not be a sexually repressed drummer who hasn’t had a tongue in their mouth since Isaac’s dog got you while you were yawning.”

“Low blow,” said Charlie, with a glare at Amy, who laughed. 

“I mean yeah, Ben’s got kind of weird, too-intense energy,” she said. “But is there any harm in going on a date with him? Treat it like practice, you know? You can go on a date with him since he’s not someone that you’re actually super interested in. Treat it like a chance to see if you still know how to chat with someone on a date.” Amy grinned at Charlie and gave his arm a squeeze. “We’re nearly done with school,” she reminded him. “You won’t be able to use that as an excuse to not date anymore, you know?”

Charlie groaned and slumped over the marble counter, leaning his forehead against his crossed arms. “I know,” he said, voice muffled between his arms. 

Amy’s voice softened. “Listen, I know dating’s not been easy. I know you had a run of shitty guys before, too - and it’s been a while since you’ve gone out with someone. So you could just go out with him once, see how it feels. More for the date versus for dating, you know? And it’s cuffing season - tell me you don’t want to go on a little holiday date.” She grinned at him. “Maybe a kiss under the mistletoe somewhere?”

“You are a walking endorsement for one of those terrible made-for-TV Christmas romance movies,” Charlie told her. 

Amy beamed. “Thank you. I am a busy businesswoman who cares only about business and has forgotten the magic of the season and am part of a corporation that is planning on taking over the lease of a beloved local toy shop that only has customers once a year and whose owner is a single dad whose wife perished and will help me rediscover the wonder of Christmas leading to my standing up to my corporate father and then sealing our love with a single chaste kiss.”

Charlie laughed, shaking his head and resting his cheek against his forearms. “I can’t believe you didn’t pass out; that might have been the longest sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“Come on, Charlie,” Amy encouraged him, propping her chin on her hands, elbows on the counter and looking down at him. “Maybe he’ll be the generically attractive and moderately interesting male lead that you’ve been searching for.”

“What if it goes terribly?” Charlie asked, looking up at her. “And then he comes in here and I have to see him all the time?”

“‘All the time’ only means another month, King Charles,” Amy reminded him. “Our program’s nearly done, we’re both already interviewing for jobs. We’re both out of here soon. There’s an escape route coming.” She smiled at Charlie, her eyes sparkling. “And if he comes back in here and harasses you, I’ll just put a laxative in his coffee and lock the bathroom and he can poo himself in front of everyone while we just laugh and laugh.” She did laugh loudly then at Charlie’s horrified expression, which he wasn’t able to get off his face. “I’m just saying, you could give it a shot. I’ll be a phone call away if you need to get out of there of course, but what do you have to lose?”

-

“What do I have to lose?” Charlie mumbled aloud as he looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his curls yet again. There was this one stupid piece that had firmly decided it was going in the opposite direction, giving him a tiny, hairy middle finger as it went on its happy way. He’d finally agreed with Amy that if and only if Ben formally asked him out, he’d accept. Charlie had half-hoped that Ben would just hint at things and not actively invite him on a date before Charlie’s employment at the Café ended, but Ben had surprised him just a few days later. 

Ben came into the Café and ordered his drink, smiling at Charlie and pressing himself close to the counter. Charlie could smell his cologne, which was both alluring and with some semi-acrid scent to it, like it was a cheap knockoff of a quality brand. 

“What are you doing Saturday evening?” Ben asked that Monday, waiting at the drink pickup area.

Charlie ignored Amy’s strangled cough. “I, um - I don’t think I have any plans right now,” he responded, pouring the rest of the foamed milk into Ben’s cappuccino before putting a lid on it. 

Ben smiled, looking even more handsome against the white of his jumper. “Well, how’d you like to go on a date with me?” He took his coffee from Charlie before Charlie could even put it on the counter, their fingers touching. Despite himself, Charlie felt a little thrill go through his body. He hadn’t been kissed in so long. He hadn’t been on a date in a long time. Hell, Charlie had barely even touched someone he was attracted to in a long time. “Drinks and dinner? How does that sound?”

Charlie took a breath in through his nose. Maybe this would be fun. Maybe they’d hit it off. Maybe the unplaceable feeling Charlie had about Ben was just him not being used to flirting or dating. “Okay,” he said, nodding. Dinner. Charlie could do dinner. That seemed simple enough, nothing too intense. 

Ben’s smile lit up his whole face and Charlie felt his heart tug, just a little, and felt hope rise in his chest. Maybe this had been Charlie putting up walls, his hesitancy having had nothing to do with Ben. “That’s great,” he said, giving Charlie a glowing look. 

They exchanged contact information and Charlie gave Ben a tentative half-wave as he went out of Badger Café, steadfastly ignoring Amy extending her tongue and thrusting her hips in the air, mouthing, “Get it, Charlie!” over and over. Now here he was, just under a week later, about to go on the date with Ben. They’d messaged a few times Monday, then more as the week progressed and Charlie was letting himself get more excited as they chatted more. The messages seemed mostly normal, though Ben was clearly eager about the date and about going out with Charlie. In a way, that felt nice - to be pursued and wanted. The other side of it was that Ben seemed almost too keen, messaging Charlie several times to say what a good time they were going to have and how much Charlie was going to love their plans. That was the first red flag that Charlie should have picked up on earlier when he reflected on it late, this aggressive over-hyping and constant (and unasked) assurance that they were going to do something so fun. But Charlie had truly let himself get excited about going on a date, and he kept pushing that thought to the side. 

The second mini red flag was when Charlie asked where they’d be going to dinner and Ben had offered to pick him up instead of telling him the name of the location, saying that he had an amazing surprise place planned. Charlie agonised about that for a while but had agreed, reasoning that he knew Ben’s car and plate number and he was location sharing with Amy the whole time. It was honestly convenient as Charlie didn’t currently have a car. Ben picking him up would make it a lot simpler; no need to figure out bus routes or pay for an Uber. Charlie would still have the Uber option home if it didn’t go well, so he wasn’t too nervous and was still tentatively looking forward to the date, finally tucking the errant curl into some semblance of order before it popped back out with a silent, cheerful, “fuck off, wanker!”

Charlie heard a knock at the door and took a deep breath, settling his nerves. He was moderately happy with how he looked tonight - Ben said they were going to a nicer place and to dress up a bit. Charlie was in dark grey trousers and a deep blue dress shirt, no tie. He had a matching jacket and Charlie liked the way the colours set off from each other, as well as the way the blue shirt made his eyes look brighter. Charlie had been surprised by Ben saying that they were going to a fancier place, but again, he was stupidly optimistic. He’d filled his head with images of the two of them walking into some gorgeous, candle-lit restaurant. Maybe Ben would even pull out his chair, Charlie had imagined. He’d never gone on a nice date before, not only a few years out of uni. Charlie felt a flutter of true excitement go through his stomach as he walked to the door and opened it, the words of greeting evaporating from his tongue as he felt his mouth fall just slightly open. 

The third red flag had arrived in the shape of Ben Hope, specifically the sight of Ben wearing a suit that made him look like a magician. As in, a suit of crushed, remarkably purple velvet with black buttons. Charlie was too staggered to say anything at first, but eventually remembered that he was a human and needed to say human things to the apparent human in front of him. “Uh, hey,” Charlie stammered out, still trying to process this McDonald’s Grimace-adjacent vision in front of him. 

“Hey,” said Ben with a smile. “Are you ready to go?”

“Um, yeah,” replied Charlie, recovering from his surprise. Maybe Ben was just a really fashion-forward dresser, he mused. He’d only seen Ben in his gym clothes, coming to the Café after his workout. Granted, this didn’t seem like something that had been in fashion since 1876, but Charlie didn’t follow haute couture. Maybe this was a thing now and Charlie had missed it. Somehow. He picked up his long green coat and pulled it on over his sport coat, shrugging his shoulders to get it on properly. 

“Good,” said Ben. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight,” he said, not turning to go out towards his car yet. Charlie hesitated, not sure why they weren’t moving yet based on what Ben had asked about being ready to go. “I know we’re going to have a magical night…” Ben now had on a mysterious smile, reaching into his suit pocket. “...Which will hopefully be the start of a very magical relationship.” With that, Ben pulled a long-stemmed red rose out of his pocket, seemingly out of nowhere.

Charlie was - startled. Was that - did Ben just do a fucking magic trick? While saying that this was going to be the start of a magical relationship? Did I imagine that in some weird fever dream caused by whatever microbes were probably on that crushed velvet suit? Ben was still holding out the rose towards him and Charlie took it awkwardly, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to do with it. Did he just…hold it for the night? Was he supposed to tuck it into a buttonhole or something? “Thank…you?” Charlie said, not able to keep himself from it sounding like a question. 

Ben winked at him and made actual finger guns, making some small weird clicking sound with his mouth as he did. That - that was a thing that occurred. Charlie took a breath and turned to go back to his small kitchen. He didn’t have any vases, so he took the tallest glass he could and filled it from the tap, the sound of the water thunderously loud against the silence Charlie wasn’t sure how to break. The rose leaned alarmingly against the glass, the sides not nearly tall enough to hold it up. Ben came into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway. “Hey, did you spill any of that water?” he asked, his head tilted and a grin on his face.

Charlie turned away from the comically askew rose, cocking his head. “I-” he looked down at the quite obviously dry counter, utterly confused. “I - no?”

“Oh, I see,” said Ben, reaching one of his hands over to the other sleeve. He drew out a long handkerchief with dramatic flair, waving it airily. “Because I had this,” here, he wiggled his eyebrows, “On hand.”

Charlie’s eyes widened out of his conscious control before he chuckled weakly. “Oh - because, uh…handkerchief,” he said, finishing lamely, the last word coming out more quietly and perplexed than he intended it to. 

“In my sleeve,” Ben added. “By my hand. Get it? On hand?”

“That’s - that’s funny!” said Charlie, throwing in another chuckle for politeness sake. Okay, Charlie, yes, this is objectively weird so far. But maybe he’s just nervous. He’s clearly been excited about this date and is trying to impress you. Which is through…magic, apparently. The way to any man’s heart? Even ones over the age of seven not at birthday parties... Charlie squared his shoulders and tried to mentally reset, deciding that everyone had little quirks, hobbies, and habits. Maybe one of Ben’s just happened to be…magic. Doing actual magic tricks. Performing tricks of magic and showing them actively to other people. On first dates. But again, he had nothing to lose and he was still looking forward to the date. No matter what, Charlie was going out to dinner, something he hadn’t done with anyone besides Amy for a while. It was going to be good. Or at least, it had to get better than it started. 

-

It did not get better. 

The next set of red flags were planted in a neat line, each of them waving merrily at Charlie in quick succession. After a reasonably normal car ride, Ben pulled into a car park of a large, gorgeous hotel, driving past a red-suited attendant who stared at them as they passed, rolling on slowly.

“I think it’s valet?” asked Charlie, twisting back at the (quite obvious) valet before turning to look at Ben again, making it sound like a question.

“No, I’ll find a spot,” Ben assured him. 

He drove round probably six times and ignored Charlie’s increasingly perplexed gestures and mutterings that it was valet, the parking seemed to be valet, it was all valet. After what was probably eight minutes that felt like the entirety of the run time of the movie Mother!, Ben finally pulled back up to the valet, sighing deeply. “I guess it’s only valet here,” he said, shaking his head. “These stupid hotels and their policies, right?”

Charlie had sniffed out a very fake laugh at that through his nose, though there was no way any amusement reached his eyes. Still, he had tried to let go of the magical, valet-denying weirdness and took in the incredible decorations at the hotel, every window decked in brightly lit wreaths, lights glittering everywhere. It was an undeniably romantic space, the walkway to the hotel magical even in itself. Ben held the door open for him and Charlie felt another dying gasp of optimism that maybe, just maybe, dinner would be lovely. This would just be an odd and hilarious story that they told their eventual children, one where Charlie would ruefully recall that Ben did several magic tricks to try to impress him in his nervousness and Ben would blush in embarassed memory. 

That was not in fact what happened. 

Charlie was surprised as he walked into the hotel lobby, the room filled with well-dressed people. A large, “Welcome, Leeds Preparatory Staff and Supporters!” banner hung across the lobby and Charlie looked over at Ben. This didn’t seem like a dinner. This seemed like an event. A private event for a workplace that sounded oddly reminiscent of where Ben had told Charlie he worked. “Uh - did we go to the wrong place?” Charlie asked, hoping to god they had.

Ben looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“This looks like it’s, maybe - like it’s some sort of staff party for a school?” Charlie half-asked, his mouth feeling a little dry. “I thought - we were going to dinner?”

“We are,” Ben said assuredly, putting a hand on Charlie’s arm. “This is my school’s holiday dinner!”

Charlie thought his mouth had been dry before. Now it felt more like salted cotton than anything else. Charlie distantly thought that he was doomed to never be able to eat a cracker again. “I…this is your work Christmas party?”

“Christmas dinner,” Ben corrected him. “I told you we were going to dinner.” He looked at Charlie with an expectant look, like Charlie was being deliberately thick. “Come on, shall we find our table?”

Charlie blinked, the information coming in too quickly and too filled with bafflingly strange things for it to register in his brain. This was Ben’s work holiday party? Charlie was with Ben at a work event? What in the ever-fucking fuck was happening? “I, um…”

“Let’s go!” said Ben, pulling Charlie along by the arm. 

Charlie followed Ben numbly, questioning every decision that he had ever made in his life that had resulted in him being in this place in this situation right now. Charlie paused at the coat check, taking off his coat and handing it to the attendant, accepting the ticket back. He looked at Ben, who was standing a bit away from the desk, his coat still on. “Are you - are you going to check your coat?” Charlie asked. “So you don’t need to keep track of it?”

Ben looked momentarily nervous and stepped back away from the coat check. “Uh, no,” he said, fingers slipping into his pocket. “I’ll just keep it with me.”

Charlie eyed Ben’s hand and tilted his head, about to press more before the grim realisation dawned on him. Magic tricks. Ben one hundred percent had magic tricks hidden in his coat and Charlie was the result of billions of years of evolution who was lucky enough to get to see them in action at Ben’s work holiday party. Charlie considered faking an emergency, but he was hungry. And he could smell the food from inside the large hall, all of it mixing in tantalising scents that seemed to call to him. Charrrlieeeeee, they called. Come to us. You’re an impoverished physio student and we are rich and delicious. You can put up with an apparent budget birthday party entertainer when there are free crab cakes. Craaaaab caaaaaakes, Charlie.

Charlie grounded himself again with a deep breath, willing himself to have a positive attitude. It could still turn around. And if it didn’t, at least he’d be full on overpriced hors d'oeuvres that he didn’t actually need to pay for. Ben opened one of the large, ornately carved wooden doors to the hall for Charlie and they made their way in, blinking at the opulence. The tables were centred with brilliant jewel tone flowers, the crystal chandeliers throwing a soft white light on everything below. People were dressed well, men in suits and women in long, flowing dresses. Charlie said a silent thanks that he felt like he was dressed fairly appropriately, though he wished he was wearing a tie. 

Charlie cast his eyes around at the attendees as Ben looked about for the seating assignments board. He supposed it had to be more than just the staff with how many people were in the room. Charlie didn’t know much about private boarding schools, but he knew that many of them had boards and wealthy benefactors, and Charlie assumed that most of the people over 60 fell into that camp. There were some younger people, too, most likely the actual staff of the school. Charlie grinned as he spotted a woman who had to be an art teacher, her flowing dress, amazing colour palette and elaborate jewelled piece tucked in her natural hair feeling like a giveaway. There were others that he assumed were staff, too, including a man in a sweater vest who was lingering at a high-top table reading a book (literature teacher, Charlie guessed) and several others standing in a group. 

The crowd parted slightly and Charlie felt his heart stop. He felt like there was a beam of light that had opened in the hall, birds gently chittering and unicorns stroking a lyre in the background, illuminating the most perfect man that Charlie had ever seen. The man was laughing, and Charlie tilted his head slightly to the side, fully expecting the man to move in slow motion. If anyone deserved 1400 frames per second, it was this man. The Adonis-like man had a gorgeous smile, grinning with a half-hitched cheek at something that someone else was saying. He ran a hand through his hair and Charlie stared, dumbstruck. Oh, what Charlie would do to run his fingers through that man’s perfect, reddish, silky-looking hair. There was a scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and Charlie could barely take that in before the man raised his arm to wave at someone and Charlie’s eyes bulged. The man’s arms were massive, straining against the charcoal arms of his suit. And that wasn’t to mention his thighs, which Charlie could picture crushing-

“Oh, there’s the board!” said Ben, touching Charlie’s arm and making him jump. “Come on, let’s find our seats.”

He and Ben went towards the seating assignment board, Charlie snagging a few starters as they made their way past tuxedoed waitstaff, though what he was really hungry for was now receding into the distance, Charlie mourning the loss of looking at those arms. He suppressed a sigh, standing next to Ben as he scanned the board, muttering something about how they'd better have been sat with the Head of school this year. 

“Here we are! Table two,” Ben said, running his finger down the list. “Oh, they don’t list it by table, so it’s a pain to see who we’re with, that’s annoying.” He heaved out a sigh like he had been inconvenienced beyond all rationality, but then seemed to brighten. Ben pulled a piece of string out of his suit trousers pocket and dangled it up in front of Charlie. “But hey! Want to see something cool with the number two? Look, this is one uninterrupted piece of string, right? But I can make it into two-”

“We’d better get to our table, right?” Charlie interrupted quickly, not sure he could trust his face to tolerate another magic trick within the first thirty minutes of his date with Ben, not without the sweet relief of alcohol in hand. 

Ben looked disappointed, shoving the string back in his pocket and pointing towards the table. They made their way over and Ben settled into his seat, Charlie slowly sitting in his. They were the only ones at the table so far and Charlie looked around, desperate for a conversational buffer. 

“D’you want a drink?” asked Ben, looking at Charlie.

Yes. Charlie wanted a million drinks. Maybe a million and eight. “That would be great,” Charlie replied, truly meaning it. “Any type of red wine would be great, please.”

Ben made finger guns at Charlie again and Charlie felt nine or so years slip from his life. He made a grimacing type expression back at Ben in some facsimile of a smile and then shook his head as Ben walked away. At least it’ll be a good story for Amy, he mused. Though he was planning on killing her for encouraging him to go on a date with Ben, so the shared amusement would be short-lived. 

“Hi there,” said a warm voice, and Charlie looked up to see the woman he had assumed to be an art teacher making her way over. “I’m Elle.”

Charlie half-stood and shook her hand, immediately feeling at ease with her warm eyes and gentle smile. “I’m Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Elle said. “I love your suit!”

Charlie looked down at himself and blushed. “Oh, thank you so much - I don’t get a chance to dress up much.”

Elle smiled. “Me neither - too much paint and clay getting thrown around my room normally.”

“I assume you teach art?” Charlie guessed with a grin.

“Right in one,” she said, then turned towards a tall man who appeared a moment later. “Charlie, this is my husband Tao.”

The man extended his hand, Charlie meeting it with his own. He didn’t look as outgoing as Elle, but he gave Charlie a nod. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” said Charlie. “Do you work at the school as well?”

“No, not me,” Tao replied. “I work in film, actually.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” said Charlie authentically. “Do you like it?”

Tao seemed momentarily confused, then a half-smile appeared. “That’s…a surprise,” he said.

“What is?” Charlie asked.

“Normally people ask me if I’ve worked with famous people or what films I’ve worked on, or if I can get them a role on some show or film.” Charlie snorted and Tao nodded exaggeratedly in an I know kind of way. “I don’t normally get asked if I like it.”

“Well, do you?”

Tao grinned, and now it was a little bigger. “I do,” he said. “I’ve wanted to work in film since I was a kid. I fell in love with Romeo + Juliet - you know, the one from the 90s? I remember watching it all the time.”

Charlie laughed, nodding. “Oh my god, I loved that film,” he exclaimed. “Though for me, it was the Radiohead in the credits that I loved most. It made my cry, like, every time.”

Tao beamed. “Thank you!” he said, turning towards Elle delightedly, gesturing towards Charlie. “Oh, thank god we’re sat with you this year,” he muttered to Charlie conspiratorially as he sat down. “Last year we were sat with someone’s date who kept harassing me to get her on a reality show. She said she’d be willing to show her boobs on camera. Multiple times.”

“Well, I am too,” said Charlie seriously, making Tao blink in surprise before he burst out laughing again, Elle joining in.

“Who’d you come with, then?” asked Tao.

Charlie went to answer but then was distracted by the glowing sun-god from earlier, coming closer. Coming towards their table. Coming towards his table. His table, that had only six chairs, four of them filled by Elle, Tao, Charlie, and the mercifully still-absent Ben. Oh dear lord, the most beautiful man was sitting at his table, his honeyed eyes and face and lips smiling at Charlie, saying words. Whispering romantic things to Charlie about how they should get married and buy a lavender farm and be together forever. Things that looked like the word hi.

“Glarglag,” said Charlie, his voice stangled. He cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said back, blushing profusely. 

“I’m Nick,” said the human equivalent of warm buttered toast. The perfect man named Nick paused for a moment, his eyes still on Charlie’s face. Charlie blinked once and nodded vigorously, his brain trying desperately to scoop all of the jelly back into a semblance of order. “What…is your name?” asked Nick, perfect words coming out of a perfect mouth. 

“Charlie,” said Charlie. He was dead chuffed he was able to remember his name, to be honest. Charlie’s eyes travelled across Nick’s face briefly and he vaguely wondered if he needed safety lenses to look directly at Nick’s eyes, not unlike the sun. 

“Nice to meet you,” said Nick, reaching across the table and extending his hand, giving Charlie’s a shake. Charlie had always made fun of superfans who claimed that they’d never wash an appendage again after it had been touched by a celebrity, but Charlie got it now. God, he got it. He let go of Nick’s hand with some effort and sat back down, trying to encourage the blood to leave his face. He just knew the tips of his ears were bright red like the backstabbing little things they were. 

“You too,” Charlie murmured. He swallowed, now having the exact opposite problem as before, his mouth now watering for some unknowable reason. “So, uh, do you work at the school too?”

“I do,” answered Nick with an easy smile, making every cell in Charlie’s body melt and die a happy little death. “I’m the head rugby coach.”

“Oh,” said Charlie, discovering in this moment how fascinating a sport he found rugby to be. Also, that explained the arms. God, those arms. “Do you have a big…” he said, struggling to come up with the right words. “…um, program here?”

“We do,” said Nick enthusiastically. “We’re actually a pretty strong school when it comes to that, and-”

“Sorry, I got caught up!” exclaimed another bright tone, a cheery woman’s voice. “I ended up chatting with Mr. Barnes and you know how he just goes on and on, like I get it, the hedgehogs are still in your garden, yes, we are all very stressed about that.” The woman slid into the seat next to Charlie, between him and the perfect man. She had brownish-blonde hair and was gorgeous. Charlie felt his cells re-harden and all cross their arms in unison. Of course this was perfect man’s perfect wife. Or girlfriend, neither had a ring. “Hi there,” she said, extending a hand to Charlie. “I’m Imogen.”

“Charlie,” he said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Please go away so I can sit next to the prettiest man in the world and feed him bits of bacon from my fork.

“You too!” she said. “God, your eyes are gorgeous!”

Charlie blushed, the flush deepening when he felt Nick’s eyes flick over to Charlie’s face. “Thank you,” he said, trying to wave it off. “I grew them myself.”

Imogen let out a loud laugh that she covered up with her hand. “Oh, I like you, Charlie.” She looked around. “You’re miles better than if we had gotten stuck with one of the three-hundred-year old backers like I did last year.” She rolled her eyes. “They usually put me with them because of my huge personality ,” Imogen said, shimmying her chest a little and making Charlie let out a surprised laugh. 

“You’ll get used to Immy,” said Elle with a chuckle. “Or maybe you won’t?”

“You love me,” grinned Imogen, shooting Elle a wink. Despite himself, Charlie smiled, too. He did like her feistiness, even if she had stolen his future husband. 

“What do you do?” asked Charlie.

“I do most of the media work for the school,” Imogen explained. “All of the outreach, our marketing campaigns, any public-facing stuff.” She nudged Nick. “This one is helpful,” she said, winking at Charlie. “Keeps us in the headlines with how well the team does. And the camera loooooves him,” she said, Charlie internally nodding furiously. 

“I don’t…the kids are good,” Nick mumbled, looking even more glowing when he blushed. “It’s their doing, not mine.” God, how was he even hotter when he was embarrassed? 

“Says the object of lust of nearly everyone here,” grinned Imogen, nudging Charlie and gesturing her chin towards a few women around the hall, all looking dreamily at Nick. Charlie sat up a little straighter in his chair (though he felt gayer by the minute) and tried to wipe what he assumed was an identical expression off his own face.

“So, what do you do?” Nick asked Charlie loudly, firmly attempting to change the subject. 

Imogen elbowed Charlie as if to say look, we embarrassed him and Charlie smiled back at her, then at Nick. “Well, actually, I’m in school right now for physiotherapy,” he said. “I’m nearly done - so I do that and work a bit on the side too, but I’m looking for full time roles in the field now.”

“That’s amazing!” said Nick, looking like he meant it, face glowing. “Oh, the work you do is incredible,” he said, Charlie feeling like warm water was filling body. “I had an amazing physio when I played in uni; I remember-”

“Ugh, rugby glory day stories again?” asked an annoyed and annoying voice that made all the water in Charlie go flat and cold again, all of them looking at Ben, who had…decidedly not a glass of wine in his hand. He saw Nick blush and start to say something, then turn it into a mumble, looking away from Charlie.

“Oh,” said Elle, sounding confused and trying to cover it. “Charlie, you’re here with…Ben.” She said the name as though it had a bad taste, but she was politely pretending it was palatable. She shot Nick an unreadable look, who nodded slowly, Imogen making a tiny ohh sound. 

“Yep,” said Ben, plunking a tall, frosted glass in front of Charlie. He grinned at Charlie, and now it looked like a jackal’s smile to Charlie after Nick’s soft one. “This is for you,” he said.

Charlie looked at it, then back, then back at the offensively green drink. “What is…”

“It’s a Midori sour,” Ben announced, looking pleased with himself. “They’re the best.”

“Oh,” said Charlie, eyeing it distrustfully. “I don’t really go for sweet drinks…”

“You’ll like it,” Ben said dismissively. “I love them.”

“And you are the paragon of taste,” Tao muttered, making Charlie choke on the first, disgusting sip. He grimaced and set it down and accidentally caught Nick’s eye, who looked sympathetic. 

“That looks like the ooze from the second Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie,” Nick said quietly to Charlie as Tao and Ben bickered, leaning slightly past Imogen to murmur to Charlie.

Charlie swallowed a laugh, hiding his giggles behind his hand. “Urg, it tastes like it, too.” He set it aside and made a face.

“Let me try,” said Imogen boldly, picking up and taking a sip. “Oh, god, it’s like an ice lolly vomited in a bowl of melted Sour Patch Kids!”

Nick scoffed as Charlie burst out laughing. “It can’t be that bad,” Nick said, taking a sip. Charlie licked his lips as Nick swallowed, watching his throat work as he did. Well, fuck. Now Charlie had to take another drink of the piss-water because it was essentially like he’d be kissing Nick. He grimaced and put it down by Charlie, flapping his hands and diving for his water. “It feels like it keeps attacking my tongue!”

Charlie tried to stop giggling as Ben leaned over close to him, disgruntled from shooting barbs back and forth as Elle tried to mediate. Ben moved even more into Charlie’s space as the two other couples started to chat again, Charlie edging fractionally away on his chair. “I’m so annoyed we have to sit with them,” Ben said, rolling his eyes at the table. “Elle’s husband is such a pretentious twat and then we’ve got Barbie and Ken over there,” Ben said derisively, indicating towards Nick and Imogen.

“I like them,” said Charlie mildly, taking a defiant sip of the drink and then regretting it immediately, setting it back down again. He really did like them. He liked the other people about as much as he disliked both Ben and his terrible taste for alcohol right now.

Ben laughed. “Good one,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket where it was hanging on the chair and taking out a deck of cards. “Oi, Charlie! Okay, pick a card.”

Charlie glanced at the rest of the table, where the four others were chatting again. “I…um…” he said, looking back and forth, then sighing. He picked a card. 

Ben performed an impressively unimpressive magic trick and Charlie smiled weakly at it, jumping at the chance to rejoin the conversation when Elle asked him about the work that he wanted to do post-physiotherapy training. The conversation was lovely and engaging, Nick and Elle asking insightful questions, Imogen making hilarious cracks, and Tao delivering biting remarks to Ben on occasion that shouldn’t have internally delighted Charlie as much as they did. He was actually enjoying himself, and it was getting easier to look at Nick. Charlie had to assume that he was developing antibodies to the man’s incredible good looks, ones that at least allowed him to look directly at Nick's face. When the waitstaff came around, Charlie gratefully accepted a glass (and then another) of red wine, the green monstrosity sitting sadly forgotten on the table, getting less obscenely bright as the ice inside it melted. 

Charlie found himself blissfully forgetting Ben existed throughout most of dinner, staying determinedly in conversation with the rest of the table and only replying directly to Ben when he needed to. He could feel himself getting tipsy and realised that he was being a bit more effusive than normal. Silly things like grabbing Imogen’s arm and laughing when she said something, telling Elle how gorgeous her dress was, praising Tao’s use of underutilised words, and thinking that Nick was a perfect sunflower that he wanted to bury his face in. Charlie responded to Ben when Ben spoke to him, but otherwise he tried to remain engaged with the others, who were so much more fun and enjoyable to be with. 

Charlie could feel Ben getting antsy as entrees came. He kept nudging Charlie and trying to get him to look over, trying to show him yet another magic trick. Charlie was able to pretend that he just needed to get back to the conversation, successfully deflecting while they all ate and chatted. After the entrees were taken away, Ben reached into his coat and pulled out a scarf and a pair of scissors, jostling Charlie. 

“Hey, Charlie,” he said, this time waiting until Charlie looked at him, baffled that this was a real man and not in fact a cartoon character. “Okay, Charlie, you’re going to cut this scarf and just wait until you see what I can do.”

“Ben,” said Charlie in the best balance of politeness and firmness that he could manage. “I’d like to keep chatting with the other people at our table, wouldn’t you? Maybe we can put the, uh, magic tricks away and enjoy our time with everyone here?” He thought he kept the derision out of his voice on the phrase ‘magic tricks’, but based on Ben’s reaction Charlie wasn’t sure if he had been successful. 

Ben glared at Charlie for a moment, Charlie blinking at the sudden shift of energy. He pulled his head back in surprise when Ben slammed the scarf and scissors down on the table, getting up abruptly. Everyone’s heads turned as he got up, Imogen cocking her head to the side. They all watched, Charlie included, as Ben stomped over to a large grand piano in the corner of the room and sat down in front of it. Charlie shrank down in his chair as Ben started to play while maintaining direct eye contact with Charlie and their table, Charlie not recognising the song until the lyrics started.

You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye

Your scarf it was apricot

There was gentle music that was playing over the sound system of the hall, but that didn’t stop Ben from banging away on the piano, the conversation in the hall noticeably dipping as everyone stopped and stared in the corner where an angry man played a piano at Charlie Spring. Charlie’s table was silent and he stole a glance around as he tried to sink into the fabric of his chair, hoping it swallowed him like a fabric-enshrouded grave. Elle’s eyes were darting between Charlie and Ben, looking horrified. Tao looked like he was watching someone eat a live slug, staring at Ben with bald disgust. Imogen was pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh. The most perfect world in the man - Nick - was looking at Charlie with something like pity on his face. No crab cake is worth this,  Charlie thought desperately as Ben sang, everyone else at the other tables now awkwardly going back to their conversations and pretending nothing was happening. 

You’re so vain

You probably think this song is about you  

Imogen got up suddenly and Charlie hunched in on himself as Nick cleared his throat, looking down at his plate like he wanted to disappear into it. 

“So, Charlie,” said Elle after a pause. “Um - how long have you and Ben been dating then?”

Charlie shook his head miserably, unable to believe that this was a real thing that was happening to a real person in the year of the Lord 2023. He sighed, the sound coming up from the depths of his withered, cringing soul. “This is actually our first date.”

“What?!” yelped Nick and Elle in unison, Charlie whipping his head between them. 

“No, it’s not,” said Elle, shaking her head in wonder. “It literally is not, is it?”

Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion. “It…is?” 

“Jesus,” said Nick with a surprised laugh. “That’s fucking wild, Charlie, you have to…”

Charlie couldn’t even focus on Nick saying his name, Imogen reappearing and shoving a tequila shot as well as another wine at Charlie. “Here, love, you need this more than anyone has ever needed something ever,” she said, squeezing his shoulder as she dropped into her seat. 

“Thank you,” murmured Charlie distractedly, taking a large sip of wine. “Wait, what’s-”

“Imogen,” said Elle. “This is Charlie and Ben’s first date.”

“What?!” said Imogen, looking around wildly. “No the fuck it is not! But, like…Ben’s been talking about you for weeks!”

I bet you think this song is about you

Don't you don't you don't you?

I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee clouds in my coffee and

Charlie closed his eyes as if willing himself strength as Ben went back into the chorus, the piano entirely discordant with the music playing over the system. Charlie grimly took the tequila shot and winced, the burn of the liquor better than the din of the terrible music in the background. “He… what?”

“Yeah, he’s been talking about you for ages,” Nick agreed, glancing at Charlie with an inexplicable tint to his cheeks. 

“For fucking ever,” Imogen added. “I thought you two had, like, been dating for a while.”

“No, he’s just come into the coffee shop where I work on the side for months and, like, flirted. And I kept saying no until this week,” explained Charlie, bewildered. 

Imogen was leaning back, her hands pressed to her cheeks in a type of horrified amusement. “He brought you here - to our staff holiday party - for a first date?” she asked, her voice reflecting utter disbelief. 

“Yeah, how’d you agree to that?” asked Tao, and Charlie sputtered as Elle pushed Tao and told him to keep quiet. 

“I didn’t!” protested Charlie. “He asked me to go to dinner with him.” Charlie took a slug of his wine and groaned, shaking his head and burying his face in his hands. “And then he offered to pick me up instead of saying where we were going and then we ended up here. I guess I should have clarified that it was in fact a normal human dinner at a restaurant and not one with his colleagues.”

There was a brief pause and then Imogen started to giggle. Charlie looked up and she was bouncing in her chair, her whole body quaking with laughter. The sound was infectious and Charlie grinned, still utterly embarrassed but at least knowing that everyone at the table seemed to realise how bonkers this was. He started to laugh too, setting off Elle and Nick. Tao joined in, too, the five of them laughing so hard that Charlie’s stomach hurt.

“I can’t fucking - believe - that he brought you here on a first date,” Imogen squeaked out, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. “Like, who the fuck thinks that’s a normal thing to do?! Who says, oh, yes, you know who I should introduce my date to the first time we go out? Ester Williamson, the school nurse at my place of employment.”

“It’s so ridiculous,” agreed Elle, still laughing. “Like, he’s made it sound like you and him go way back - ‘Oh, I saw Charlie today, he’s looking well,’ and ‘I might see Charlie tomorrow morning, we’ll see’.”

Charlie blinked and downed more wine, still laughing. “Oh my god, I am so glad I was sat with you all. I kept wondering if this was on me - like I should have done more due diligence or whatever. But maybe he’s just…”

“Batshit?” asked Tao. “Something that was supposed to be a rough draft of a human but accidentally went to market?”

Charlie snorted. His chest felt warm at how kind and supportive they were all being. “Oh my god, I love you all,” he said, the group laughing and grinning. Nick looked a little flushed again, probably with wine. Charlie knew he was definitely feeling the wine. “You all - he did a magic trick when he got to my place.” The group quieted down, everyone staring at Charlie in dumbfounded silence. In the relative quiet, Charlie distantly clocked that Ben had switched to a new song.

Nevermind I’ll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you 

Don’t forget me, I beg

I remember, you said 

They all burst out laughing again, Charlie feeling happier than he had all night. 

“Wow, Adele,” said Nick, wiping his eyes. “What’s next, Alanis Morisette?” 

“Oh my god, I will die if ‘You Oughta Know’ is the next song on this setlist,” said Imogen. 

Tao’s eyes bulged out. “Sorry, are we not talking about the fact that Ben apparently did magic at Charlie?” 

Charlie threw his head back. “Oh my god, he totally did it at me, you are entirely right,” he chortled as Ben’s voice hit a high note on the bridge and cracked. Charlie told the group about Ben’s magical antics, making Imogen dive into his coat and cry with laughter when she pulled out several magic tricks from his coat pockets. Charlie was getting less and less embarrassed about the continuing music in the background (Everybody hurts…everybody cries…everybody hurts…sometimes) as the table gossiped about Ben. He was apparently one of the more disliked staff members and Imogen and Tao were the ringleaders in the Ben Nope club, as they called it. Imogen and Elle kept bringing Charlie drinks. He was getting more and more tipsy and effusive, gesturing with his arms and laughing loudly, finally comfortable for the first time in the night. He told Imogen how pretty her eyes were, proclaiming he was allowed to say that non-creepily since he was gay. That made everyone laugh, Nick throwing his head back and flushing again. Charlie told Tao that he was the best cinephile that he’d ever met and that they needed to watch a film together so he could learn from Tao and see Elle’s amazing-sounding art at the same time. He told Nick that he looked…healthy (which was code for your arms look massive and the result of time in the gym and on the rugby pitch and can you please pick me up like a little puppy and cuddle me in your arms).

Charlie liked all of them, but his eyes kept going irresistibly to Nick, pulled like a magnet to his gorgeous, open face. God, Charlie wanted to touch that face. He let out a little internal giggle to himself, imagining smushing Nick’s face with his hands, pushing his lips together to make little fish lips. He bet Nick would look so cute with fish lips. The most perfect man in the whole world and he was sitting at Charlie’s table. Charlie imagined laying Nick out like a rug and then rolling himself up like Nick was a human Snuggie around him. Oooo-kay. Perhaps Charlie needed to take a half-step back from the wine.

Charlie didn’t know how long they had stayed there after dinner, their whole table lingering instead of bothering to bid on the silent auction items or drift to any of the high-top tables. Literally everyone in the group was amazing in their own way - Elle was fascinating, Nick was a god, Tao was interesting, Nick was gorgeous, Imogen was hilarious, and Nick was literally human perfection dressed up to look like an angel with thighs like tree trunks and an intoxicating grin. While Charlie wasn’t sure how much time had passed, he distantly guessed that at least a bottle of wine had passed his lips. Plus the two shots he’d taken. He had snuck off to the loo once early on, skirting around the edge of the room while Ben mournfully sang Sinead O’Connor at Charlie, proclaiming that “Nothing compares 2 U.” Even at that point in the night Charlie realised that he was swaying a little as he stood at the urinal, but the sight of Nick’s face at the table, illuminated as if a swarm of horny cherubs had shined a light on it, made him think that he was just fine.

Charlie had rarely been so comfortable with people he had only recently met, but it was like when he had met Amy - he felt like he just clicked with this group. Tao looked around in surprise when Elle and Imogen had gotten up at one point for the loo, realising that the room had emptied a bit. He looked down at his phone and raised his eyebrows. “God, it’s gotten late,” he remarked, nodding appreciatively at Charlie and Nick. “This thing goes much faster when you’re not seated next to Anita Winterbottom, whose greatest joy is telling you about rabbit rearing.”

Nick laughed loudly again and Charlie felt a stupid smile spread over his face. God, Nick was so pretty. Did he know he was pretty? Charlie wanted to brush his hair and tell him how pretty he was. What a pretty, pretty boy. Man. Pretty man. Pretty hot man. Wow, Charlie was pretty hot for this man. Hoo boy, Charlie, maybe it was time to drink some water? Nah.That sounded dumb. Wine. 

“It is,” Nick agreed. “I forgot that last year you and Elle got stuck with the pensioners.”

“Better them than that velveteen wanker over there,” said Tao dryly. Charlie snorted into his sixth hundredth glass of wine. 

Charlie giggled, the phrase putting terrible and hilarious things into his head. He saw Nick looking at him and tried to settle himself, calming down a little before the music hit them again, Ben hammering away on the piano and looking at Charlie despondently. 

Goodbye my lover

Goodbye my friend 

You have been the one

You have been the one for me 

There was a beat of silence before Nick and Charlie both burst out laughing, Nick reaching over and touching Charlie’s arm. Okay, so now Charlie was never washing his hand or arm. That seemed unhygienic, but entirely worth it. Making lattes one-handed was going to be a challenge, but Charlie would deal. It took him a long time to stop giggling, his whole body feeling loose and warm. 

“Oh my god,” said Imogen, coming back and shaking her head. She handed out shots to Elle and Nick and then put one in front of Charlie, too. “The bartender said he made yours extra strong in honour of your first date to forget.”

“None for you?” Charlie asked.

“I’m driving tonight,” she smiled at him. “I cut myself and Tao off a while ago; we usually rotate who drives to make it fair.”

“Smart,” said Charlie, nodding appreciatively as he downed his shot, filled with warmth and appreciation for his new friends, his new best friends in the world. “You all are so smart. You’re like, the smartest and nicest people ever. I’m so glad I went on a first date with all of you.”

Everyone laughed. “First date,” muttered Tao. “I still can’t believe that.”

“You and me both,” said Charlie, shaking his head and laughing. This night could have gone so terribly. Well, it did, but at least in the golden-hued glow of Nick… what did Imogen say his last name was? Oh, that’s right, Nelson. Nick Nelson. Of course his name was Nick Nelson. It rolled off his tongue. Ooh, Charlie liked Nick on his tongue. He’d like Nick’s tongue… Charlie hiccuped. He was so grateful that this group adopted him. He’d better tell them that. “God, you all are the best,” Charlie said, grinning at them. “Like - I want you as my friends. My best friends. My other best friend Amy would love you too. Let’s all be best friends.”

“Oh my god, yes,” enthused Elle, her face flushed with drink, too. “Unlock your phone, Charlie, let me put in my contact information.”

“Yaaas,” said Charlie, focusing hard to get his face to look normal enough to unlock his phone. He handed it to Elle, who entered her number and sent herself a message before handing it back to Charlie.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she said, reaching across the table and taking Charlie’s hand. “You are so amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s been great to finally meet Ben’s boyfriend,” Tao said with a shadow of a cheeky grin, eliciting a groan from Charlie and a gentle arm-slap by Elle. 

“Too soon,” Imogen said laughing, throwing back the last of her glass of water. Around them, people were starting to gather their things, the event concluding. Charlie nodded emphatically and she laughed again, lunging over and hugging Charlie from her seat. “I’m sorry that your relationship both started and ended tonight.”

Charlie laughed loudly, but was mildly (very) distracted by Nick shrugging his suit jacket back on. God, his arms were huge. In a way, Charlie mourned not seeing his muscles strain against his tight white shirt, but the way they filled out Nick’s jacket made up for it. “You are the fucking love of my life, Imogen,” he proclaimed, getting up too and blinking a few times as the room seemed to spin. That would have worried him if he hadn’t adored his new friends so much. “All of you are the literal best people I’ve ever met in my whole life and even better than a lot of dogs I have met and dogs are essentially unflawed, magical beings.”

Elle and Imogen laughed loudly and Nick grinned. Imogen tossed her hair playfully. “I mean, that is quite the compliment - but then again you haven’t met Nick’s dog. Nellie is the best, she is perfect.”

Charlie was pulling on his coat too, distantly aware that the piano had finally stopped with a final loud chord, the piano-sung words of “Ain’t no lie, baby bye bye bye (bye bye)” ringing in his ears. Everything was lovely with these people, these amazing people who had rescued him. “That makes sense,” Charlie, grinning blissfully. “I mean, like, Nick is perfect so of course his dog is perfect.” Imogen giggled and shot a look over to Nick, who was glowing brilliantly, the tips of his ears red. “Oops,” said Charlie in a stage whisper. “I think I embarrassed your boyfriend.”

“Oh, he’s-”

Whatever Imogen was about to say was cut off by Ben’s grating voice, reappearing behind Charlie like a spectre of obtuse magicians past. “Ready to go, Charlie?” asked Ben loudly, reaching for his own coat, still over his chair. Charlie stared at him, his brain trying to comprehend how Ben thought it was reasonable to act like he hadn’t performed an entire concert of Charlie’s Year 8 breakup mix CD for the last two hours. “Oh,” said Ben, tossing his head. “Sorry, the creative urge just took me. I had to express myself.” Charlie was about to express himself when Ben went to take his arm. “Shall we?”

“Nick and I can drop Charlie home,” Imogen said loudly, giving a simpering fake smile at Ben. “He lives right by me, so I think that would be easier.”

Charlie blinked at her in adoration and confusion. He didn’t know how Imogen knew where he lived (Charlie wasn’t sure where he lived right now, honestly) but he loved that she did and that he’d be able to spend some time in the car with the real-life Captain America. Maybe if Imogen had to brake hard Charlie would fly into the front seat and Nick would catch him with his lips. The way that most car accidents worked. 

Ben scowled. “No, we drove together and-”

“Oh god, yes. So sorry, I have to go in Immy’s car,” Charlie said self-assuredly, not sure why some of his words were a little slurry. “I pinkie promised her I would,” said Charlie earnestly. He dropped a very subtle wink at Imogen that no one else could have possibly noticed, then looked at Ben with theatrically wide eyes. “So I haaaaave to. I can’t break a promise.”

“Yep, mate, all set,” said Nick shortly, taking Imogen’s arm and touching Charlie’s back lightly to gently move him forward. Oh. Oh. Now Charlie could never wash his jacket or back again, either. Charlie was going to be extremely untidy.

Charlie tried to give Ben an apologetic look as they went away, stumbling a little on the carpet before Nick caught him by the arm. Unfortunately, it may have looked like a grin based on the affronted look on Ben’s face. “Sorry, mate,” Charlie called back. “By the way, the coffee shop is closed. It…broke. So don’t come in. It’s closed for a long time. Woodworm infestation.”

Imogen dissolved into giggles as she gripped Charlie’s arm and steered them out of the room. “What the fuck are woodworms?” she asked Charlie as they walked, shaking her head.

“Dunno, they seemed like a good idea,” Charlie whispered back, a dopey grin on his face. He snorted. “They almost sound real, don’t they?”

“They aren’t?” Nick asked as they went to the coat check, each of them picking up their coats. Elle and Tao said goodbye to Charlie, Imogen, and Nick, Charlie proclaiming how much he loved both of them and how they were perfect little succulents that he promised he would be the best plant gay to. Elle and Tao both laughed and hugged him goodbye, Elle promising that she’d reach out that weekend and set plans to see each other soon. 

Imogen, Nick, and Charlie all chatted as they waited for the valet, Charlie repeatedly telling both of them how wonderful they were and that they made his night from a disaster into a dis-blast-er. Nick laughed loudly at that and Charlie couldn’t suppress the little shimmy he did to make Nick laugh, though he had to catch himself when he stumbled back a bit. 

“Here we are,” Imogen said as the valet pulled around, handing her the keys. 

“Charlie, you take the front,” Nick said, opening the passenger door. Of course Nick opened doors, Charlie thought in equal parts fondness, despondence, and drunkenness. Stupid straight man with his stupid straight manners and his stupid straight girlfriend, whom I fucking love. 

“Absolutely not,” Charlie insisted, shaking his head but regretting it, losing his balance a little. He darted past Nick to get in the back seat, inhaling deeply as he nudged past. God, Nick smelled amazing. 

“Charlie,” Nick said from the front seat, looking back at him and shaking his head with a smile. “You should have taken the front.”

“Ugh, god, Nick, you’re so nice,” Charlie half-whined, flopping his head against the headrest in the back. “It’s not fair that you’re allowed to be nice and fit and smart. You seem smart. Imogen, is he smart?”

Imogen made a funny noise that sounded like a mixture between a laugh and a snort. “He is,” she assured him, looking in the rearview mirror at Charlie as Nick mumbled something and looked out the window, his cheeks looking red even in the dim car dome light. “Nick is all of those things and more.” Charlie sighed, leaning his head against the window. Lucky Imogen. Getting to date Nick. Charlie wanted to date Nick. He wanted to make little dolls out of him and Nick and have them kiss. Charlie couldn’t wait to go home and Google pictures of Nick - Nick Nelson - from rugby matches and stare at them. God, he was so pretty. “Charlie?” Imogen asked, and Charlie suddenly realised that they were still in the car park, not having moved yet. “You need to tell me where you live, babe.”

Charlie frowned. “You know where I live,” he said, blinking. “You live close to me, you told Ben that. We’re neighbouuuuurrrs,” he said, drawing out the last syllable of the word. “I don’t know how I haven’t seen you yet.”

Imogen laughed. It was a nice laugh. Charlie loved her, even though she was a husband-stealing husband stealer who stole his future husband. Fuck, he still loved her. “Charlie, I just told Ben that so he’d leave you alone, I have no idea where you actually live.”

Charlie gaped at her, his mouth open in shock. “Ohmygod, you are, like the Einstein of bad first dates,” he said, shaking his head in complete wonder. “You are so stupidly smart and pretty and badass and funny. God, both of you are,” Charlie said, leaning forward in his seat to put himself between Imogen and Nick. “You two are hashtag relationship goals.” He made his fingers into a little hashtag sign as he said it, tapping them together firmly to prove his point. 

Nick’s eyes went wide and he turned in his seat as Imogen made another funny sound. Charlie frowned again. He wondered if she was sick. He didn’t want his new bestie to be sick, but he was distracted by Nick’s perfectly honeyed eyes on his to ask about the weird thing that kept seeming to happen to her voice. “Oh, we’re not…” Nick waved a hand towards Imogen, moving it around in the arm emphatically. “We’re not together, we’ve been friends for ages,” he said, and Charlie felt his stupid heart swelling in the way that only a crush on a straight boy could make it swell, actively closing his mouth from where it was just hanging open at the revelation. “We came together because it stops all of the nice older ladies in the front office from trying to set us up with people,” Nick explained, another tint to his cheeks. Maybe he was a little drunk too, Charlie mused. “We’ve literally known each other since secondary school; we’re like siblings.”

“Yes, no relationship here,” Imogen said with a grin, turning and giving Charlie a wink. 

“That’s great,” Charlie beamed with too much enthusiasm for what Imogen had just said. “That’s so, so great. That you two do that for each other, I mean. That you’re like siblings, too. I have siblings. I like my siblings. I love my siblings.” I love you, Nick Nelson. Please gently run your thumb along my lip and never do a magic trick or touch a piano in your life.

“Yeah,” said Imogen in a strange tone, glancing at Nick with a pursed-lip smile before looking back at Charlie. “But seriously, babe, how do I get to your house?”

It took a minute for Charlie to give Imogen the directions, first giving him his prior address and then remembering his new one. Finally, they were on their way, chatting the whole time, Charlie feeling loose and silly. Imogen laughed when both Charlie and Nick made a cooing sound when they passed by a Shake Shack sign, pulling through the drive-thru and ordering chips for all three of them. 

“These are the best chips I’ve ever had,” Charlie proclaimed as he happily ate. “Imogen, you are the best human ever.” He considered for a moment. “Both you and Nick. You are both so nice and friendly and kind and rescued me from the 2023 Angst Era Tour and you’re both so pretty.” Imogen laughed and Charlie saw the back of Nick’s neck turn red. When Nick turned his head to look at Charlie, Charlie could see an embarrassed-looking grin on his face, hitching up his cheek. It was adorable. Charlie smiled guilelessly at Nick for a moment before his forehead creased in concern. “Wait, should I not call you pretty?” He slapped himself on the forehead. “Ugh, sorry, I probably shouldn’t call straight men pretty, right? God, Charlie, so dumb!”

Nick seemed to turn even pinker as he shook his head, looking like he was averting his eyes. “Bye, actually,” he said, and Charlie felt his heart sink. Oh no, he had totally offended Nick by calling him pretty and now Nick was saying goodbye to him.

Charlie slumped in his seat and looked at Nick with apologetic eyes before learning forward again in earnest supplication. “I’m so sorry, Nick,” he said. “I totally get it, and I am so sorry. Okay, we can pretend I’m not here.”

Nick if anything looked more confused than he had been even when Ben started breaking up with Charlie via piano. “We - what? I…”

Imogen was now shaking, her shoulders bouncing up and down. Charlie hoped she wasn’t having a fit. “Oh my god, you two,” she choked out. Was she crying? Oh wait - was she laughing? Charlie was too drunk to tell at this point, honestly. “Nick didn’t say goodbye, Charlie. He said, ‘I’m bi, actually’. Like, bisexual?”

Charlie leaned back in his seat again and looked between Imogen and Nick, eyes swivelling. “Wait,” he said. Imogen and Nick waited, Imogen’s amused-looking eyes flickering back to him in the rear-view. “Wait wait wait wait.” He pointed at Nick. “You’re bisexual?”

“Yes,” Nick said, turning to look at Charlie, a flush on his cheeks. 

“You…fancy men?”

“I do, yeah,” Nick confirmed, the hue deepening. “Some, at least.”

Charlie froze, mouth actually hanging open. “That’s the best fucking thing I have heard in my entire life,” he said, breathing out the words. 

Imogen let out a loud cackle. “Best coming out yet, I’d say?” she said, nudging Nick.

“Yeah,” said Nick, rubbing the back of his neck and looking embarrassed. “I was hoping…I kind of - I was really glad you and Ben aren’t actually dating.”

Charlie couldn’t help himself from making a disgusted face, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “Ew, David,” he said, making Imogen and Nick both laugh, though Nick still looked anxious. Charlie had no idea why - he was the most perfect human who understood lines from a perfect show and was perfectly bisexual. What a dream. “We-e are never, ever, ever, getting back together,” Charlie sang, pretending he was playing a piano. Imogen and Nick laughed again and Charlie preened. He made the human version of the 💯emoji laugh. Then his brain caught up, realising that Nick had said something confusing. “Wait,” Charlie said again, holding up both hands. “You were…why were you glad that Ben and I aren’t dating?” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Is it because he’s a wanker?”

Nick laughed and then blushed deeper, turning towards the front seat and looking away from Charlie. He swept his hand through his hair and glanced at Charlie in the rearview mirror. Charlie watched his hands dreamily. He wanted those hands in his hair. “I just…” Nick cleared his throat. “Since you two aren’t together, I was thinking that…would you ever want to, like, hang out?”

Charlie nodded furiously. “Yeah,” he said, continuing to nod. “I want to be besties with you and Imogen,” he said firmly. “Best friends for ever.”

Nick paused and seemed to hesitate, but maybe it was just Charlie’s brain, which was remarkably wobbly at the moment. “Let me…” Nick started, then turned back to Charlie. “Can I add my number to your phone? So you have it?”

“No, let me add your number to my phone,” said Charlie emphatically, unlocking his phone and handing it to Nick.

Nick looked puzzled. “That’s what I…yeah, that sounds great,” he said. Charlie saw him tapping on his phone - Charlie’s phone - and then handed it back to Charlie.

Charlie looked at the entry, beaming that “Nick Nelson” was now one of his contacts. The most beautiful man in the world was in Charlie’s phone. Then he frowned, going into the contact. “That’s not your name,” Charlie proclaimed, editing the contact.

“It’s…not?” asked Nick, eyebrows drawn together.

“No,” said Charlie, the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated very hard on getting the letters right. “Your name is ‘Real Magic Man’ because you’re magic and actually perfect, not like Ben. He is magically terrible.” Imogen made another funny snorting sound and Nick made an embarrassed-sounding one. “Imma text you,” Charlie announced, every part of his body feeling loose and liquid, including his words. He sent a message to Nick so Nick had his number and smiled. Flawless message, Charlie, yes. “I texted you,” he proclaimed, grinning proudly. 

“Thanks,” said Nick. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” said Charlie. “We’re all going to be BFFAE. And ever. And ever. That’s what the ‘AE’ stands for in BFFAE, you know.”

“We’re here,” said Imogen, her voice sounding amused. “Charlie, we’ll walk you up.”

Nick and Imogen walked Charlie to his door, Charlie thanking them both several times, clutching at Imogen’s arm and telling her repeatedly that she was like a magical bird with the smoothest, prettiest feathers in the whole wide world. But not, like, an evil bird like an emu or a goose. A good one, like a peacock, or Big Bird. She laughed and hugged Charlie warmly. 

“I’ll get your number from Nick,” she said, one eye twitching at Charlie. He frowned. Why did one of her eyes close?

“And I’ll, um, I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” Nick said, stepping forward towards Charlie and then back again, giving Charlie a little pat on the arm. Charlie looked down at the spot where Nick had touched him, the opposite one from before. Well, the non-washing continues. Sorry, world, I now have no arms.

“Okay,” beamed Charlie, putting both hands to his mouth and blowing kisses towards Imogen (and by diffusion, Nick). “I love you guyssss!”

“Love you too,” Imogen laughed, Nick mumbling something and blushing, looking down. 

Charlie closed the door and went to his bedroom, shoes and clothes still on. The night had started as such shit but ended with the prettiest boy in the whole wide world driving him home. The prettiest, most bisexual boy in the whole wide world. Charlie had never been so happy. It was the best day of his life. He was glowing as he felt the tug of the booze pulling on him, his eyes closing. Charlie was on top of the word. Charlie loved every single thing in his perfect, amazing life.

-

Charlie Spring hated everything.  

The hate had started at three in the morning, the first time Charlie was sick. Oddly, shots, wine, midori sours, and a complete lack of hydration had not set well in Charlie’s stomach and he spent the morning dashing from his room to the loo over and over. He finally crawled back into bed around ten in the morning, curled up and clutching a sleeve of plain crackers, though the only thing that appealed to him at the moment was death. 

He whined at his phone when it buzzed over and over, eventually silencing it. Charlie must have drifted off again, waking up to the sound of keys in his door.

“Wassat?” he mumbled, trying to sit up and regretting it immediately, lying back down. 

“Are you dead?” an exasperated voice called from the hall. Amy. It was Amy. 

“Not yet,” Charlie called back weakly. He lay still for a moment before moving one limb at a time, flopping appendages from place to place until he was able to move his legs off the bed and sit up. 

Amy barged in, the wash of sunlight from even just the hallway making Charlie hiss like a sun-avoidant rat. She surveyed Charlie with a tilt of her head. “That good, huh?”

Charlie groaned. “I don’t know,” he said. “I think I threw up my memories.”

Amy laughed and winced. “Been there, babes,” she said. She handed Charlie a blanket from his living room. “Come on, living room. You need to eat something.”

Charlie wrapped the blanket around himself and got up on wobbly legs, making it to the couch before collapsing again. Amy went into the kitchen, pulling down some plates and starting coffee. Charlie both loved and hated the smell of it. She handed Charlie a water and packet of chips along with a breakfast sandwich. “Go on,” she encouraged him cheerfully. “Two bites and then you’ll do some water and paracetamol.”

Charlie muttered about Canadian goblins but took a reluctant bite. It sat okay for the moment and then he took another, chasing it with the water and pills Amy gave him. “Thanks,” he said, flopping back on the couch.

“So,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “How did it go?”

“NOT GOOD, AMY,” Charlie said from his half-prone position. 

Amy snorted. “I got that from your messages.”

Charlie cracked an eye open from where he had been closing them against the homophobia of daylight. “What messages?”

Amy laughed and scrolled through her phone. Oh. Oh. Charlie had sent her probably 20 messages. Judging from the timestamps, they were from late in the night, long after the dinner part was over.

amy i went out with a broke arse clown

not like an arse clown

not a clown with a good arse

like a broke-arse

he did magic and he looked like an aubergine amt

why sid i go out with him

i blame you

blame cananada

ok i love you though still 

also the prettiest boy in the whole world is here and i want to turn him into a coat i can wear all the time but in like a cute way not a murdery way

i had pasta for dinner 

Charlie shook his head and groaned, handing her the phone back. “God, I barely remember anything past dinner.”

“‘I had pasta’,” Amy repeated, giggling. “Right after you went full ‘The Hills Have Eyes, but make it romantic’. Okay - tell me everything.”

Charlie did, leading her through the night about what he remembered. He told her about Ben and the stupid-ass magic tricks that he did. Amy was already laughing when he got to the part about the handkerchief and then it just went downhill from there, Amy crying tears of laughter once Charlie got to the part about Ben angrily pianoing at Charlie. 

“Oh my god, I would pay money for that setlist,” Amy laughed, tears streaming from her eyes. 

“Just Google ‘breakup songs for the independent woman’ and I’m sure you’ll find it,” responded Charlie, rolling his eyes. 

“Tell me more about the colleagues and stuff though, the ones at your table. And especially this Nick,” Amy said, her voice lifting in a teasing tone. Charlie had of course also told her about how wonderful they all were, mentioning all of them - Elle, Nick, Tao, Imogen, Nick, and Nick. 

“Oh my god, Amy, he is the fittest man alive,” Charlie said, shaking his head. He really was feeling better, even if it was marginal. He had made the horrific mistake of agreeing to work the afternoon close shift and he only had a couple of hours until it was time to go in. Though he was fully planning on making Amy work it instead. Charlie took a bite of the breakfast sandwich. 

“You have to show me a picture,” she insisted. 

“Seriously, he’s so fucking fit,” Charlie said. “Fuck, my phone is in my room.” He looked up helplessly at Amy. “Amyyyyyyyy.”

“I’ll get it,” she said, rolling her eyes. She came back a moment later, shaking her head. “Ben’s messaged you a bunch.”

“Ugh,” groaned Charlie. “I just got over the nausea.”

Amy snickered and handed the phone to Charlie. “You’ve got a fuckton of notifications. Don’t you check your phone?” 

“I haven’t even looked since last night,” Charlie said, shaking his head. He opened his phone to see if he could find a picture of Nick online (spoiler - he would be able to since he was in fact googling pictures of Nick last night before bed, something he only remembered right then with a jolt of embarrassment) but looked at his notifications first. A missed call and several messages from Ben, many missed calls and messages from Amy, one from Imogen and Elle each telling him how wonderful of a night they had with him and…

Oh fuck.

There were messages from someone whose contact read real MAgic man nicknellson. Charlie’s eyes flew open and he threw his phone at Amy, yelping. 

“What?!” she asked, looking alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Charlie clutched the blanket Amy had given him for the couch in his hands. “Oh my god, Amy. He messaged me.”

“Who? Ben?”

“No,” hissed Charlie. “Nick.”

Amy blinked. “How’d he have your number?”

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Charlie. “Maybe Imogen gave it to him or…” He stopped, the memories from the car flooding back now, at least some of them. “Oh my god Amy,” he said, feeling the blood actively leave his face. “I think I messaged him first.” Charlie looked at her in desperation. “You have to read them - I can’t, I can’t see what I said.”

Amy nodded. “I got you, babes.” He watched her open his phone and read through the messages, her lips pressing together tightly. Charlie knew that face. It was her, “I am trying so, so hard to not laugh at you, you boneless little worm.” 

Charlie lifted the blanket to his chin like it would shield him from his phone. “Are they…bad?”

“No?” said Amy, her voice a little squeak. 

“Oh god,” said Charlie. “Give me the phone.”

“The good news is that he didn’t seem bothered,” Amy said, finally letting out a high-pitched giggle. “This boy wants to see you.”

Charlie couldn’t read Nick’s messages yet, entirely panicked about his own. He scrolled to the top and looked at what he had sent. 

tHis id charlie

hi

lol you are inn the rfront seat rn and i am in the bckseat

okay thia is my nunber

🥰❤️🤩😘🫠🥚

He looked at Amy with crazed eyes to see her stifling laughter, though failing miserably at it. “An egg?!” Charlie half-wailed. “What the fuck was I even trying to send there?”

Amy gave up, laughing hard now. “I have no fucking clue,” she said, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. “He didn’t seem bothered, though!”

Charlie looked at his phone and finally read the messages from Nick, his heart pounding. 

It was really nice to get to meet you, even though it had to be through Ben Hope lol

I would love to hang out again if you were up for it, maybe with less musical accompaniment this time?

I’ll give you a call tomorrow 

Charlie looked at Amy, who had sobered a bit and was looking at him, her hands gesturing out in an, “Aren’t you happy?” way. “Charlie!” she said, still holding her hands out in a wide sweep. “Did you read what he said? That to me sounds like someone who practised all of those messages very very carefully. Look at the gentle humour. That boy wants to see you again.”

“No,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “There is no way he wants to see me again. Not after how sloppy I was last night. And I’m sure he’s strai-” Charlie paused, something clicking. He gasped. “Oh my god, Amy. He’s…” He told Amy the story from the car, remembering that moment now where he thought Nick had been telling him to piss off, when Nick was actually telling him he was bi. Amy let out a shout of laughter and Charlie waved his hands frantically before pulling the blanket up to his chin again, clutching his fists at his throat. “I fucking called him pretty, Amy, then basically ruined him trying to share his sexuality!”

“Well, he is pretty,” said Amy, looking at her phone. She turned it around to show Charlie the picture of Nick that she’d  found, some incredibly sexually appealing one where Nick was pushing through a…gaggle? Group? Herd? of rugby players, the ball tucked under his arm. 

“Fuck, Amy,” Charlie moaned. “I was so drunk.” He looked despairingly at his phone, looking at his typo-ridden messages. “These are pity-messages, Ames, he…he’s…” Charlie’s eyes widened and he flung his phone across the room. “He’s calling?!”

“What??” demanded Amy, diving for Charlie’s phone as Charlie pulled the blanket over his head. “Babes…you know that he can’t see you?”

“Don’t talk to me, I’m in my cave of shame,” Charlie called out, collapsing backwards on the couch and burying himself. 

Amy hummed at him. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

“No,” said Charlie, flopping his head back and forth. “He’s just the nicest. He’s just being polite.”

“You’re lucky you have me, you boob,” said Amy. Before Charlie could ask what that meant, he heard her answering the phone. “Charlie’s hangover answering service, this is Amy, how can I direct your call?”

Charlie gasped and sat bolt upright, the blanket still over his head. “Hang up,” he hissed. “Hang up!”

Amy laughed at something. “Oh yeah, he’s fine, he’s just doing his best freshers impression right now.” She paused. “Yes! The very one, it sounds like. Yeah, we work together at the Café and are in school together. That’s nice of you to call and check in.” Another pause. “Well, he was a little too embarrassed to answer the phone, even though I know he’d love to see you again,” she said. Charlie shot up now, trying to get to Amy as the blanket betrayed him, twisting around his feet and tripping him up. “He’s on shift at two today, but he’ll be done by six. I’m sure he’ll be more up for chatting soon.” Charlie finally got the blanket free and rushed over to Amy, reaching for his phone. She was so goddamn fast though, and dodged away from him easily. “Great,” she said easily. “Bye now.” Amy handed Charlie’s phone back to him with a smug little smile. “That was Nick,” she said.

Charlie glared. “I know it was Nick.”

“Someone wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Yes, because I was a fucking disaster last night,” Charlie groaned. 

“No, because he wanted to see you again,” Amy said, in a maddeningly definitive tone. 

“There is no way,” insisted Charlie firmly. “Not after how bollocksed I was last night.”

“We’ll see about that,” Amy said, grinning.

-

There is no way, Charlie repeated to himself on the drive to the coffee shop. There is no fucking way I actually call him. Not after how drunk Charlie had been and how much of a turnoff he probably was. Even if Nick was attracted to men, there was no way he was attracted to the loosely assembled pile of man that Charlie was the previous night. “Bye, actually.” God. Charlie would never let himself live that one down as long as possible. He already knew that would be one of those gut-punch embarrassment moments that would cheerfully insert itself in his brain when he was otherwise having a lovely time, a cheeky little poke of anxiety reminding him he was a total idiot. Amy seemed cheerful - she had driven Charlie to the Café, steadfastly refusing to take the shift.

“You are going to be there,” she said sternly. “I’m happy to be there with you, but you are going to be there. What if Nick comes in to visit you?’

“Like he would come in,” Charlie snorted derisively. Nick wouldn’t. There is no way someone like Nick would want to see a mess like Charlie was last night again, bi or not. The Café was typically quiet on Sunday afternoons after the morning rush, and Charlie sighed as Amy pulled in and they both headed inside. She settled herself at a table, opening her computer and doing some revision for their exams in the next few weeks as Charlie slowly put his apron on and relieved the other barista, the clock turning over to two. 

These are going to be an awful four hours, thought Charlie morosely, leaning on the counter. Hangover, anticipatory anxiety when I think about calling him, and slow death by lack of giant rugby men - the cursed afternoon of a mid-twenties gay. He had a momentary stupid, naively hopeful twinge of anxiety - what if Nick actually did come into the Café?  Nick knew Charlie was working, due to Amy’s meddling. Charlie’s battered, criminally optimistic heart sped up, imagining seeing Nick again. Charlie was now decidedly less green than he had been this morning, but couldn’t imagine that he looked his best. He glanced in the reflection off the espresso machine to fix his hair in case - in case - Nick showed up. Which would not happen.

Charlie was staring at his phone, reading Nick’s messages over and over when a second thought had struck him - Nick didn’t even know where he worked. Amy hadn’t said it over the phone and it hadn’t come up last night. Of course Nick wasn’t going to show up here, he didn’t even know the name of Charlie’s Café.

Charlie was hidden behind the espresso machine, drooped and pouty that Nick wouldn’t be showing up and Charlie would have to bollock up and actually call Nick if he wanted to speak to him when he heard the door open and Amy’s cheerful voice call out.

“Right on time!” she said, a grin evident in her tone. 

There was a mildly embarrassed laugh and then a voice that made Charlie’s legs turn to liquid all the way down to his toes. “I didn’t want to be too keen and show up right at two,” said the glorious, perfect voice of Nick Nelson.

Nick Nelson?

Charlie swallowed a yelp as he straightened up from his slump over the counter and frantically looked at the clock. It was 2:04. It was 2:04 and Nick Nelson was here. Nick looked over at him, a half-hitch in his grin lighting up his whole face when he noticed Charlie behind the espresso machine. Nick took a step towards Charlie. 

“Hi,” said Nick, smiling shyly at Charlie, the tips of his ears pink.

“Hi,” Charlie said back, too stunned to move. 

“Hello,” Amy called, waving smugly at both of them and breaking the frozen moment. Charlie ignored her. 

“What are you - how did you know I worked here?” Charlie asked, stumbling over his words and trying to keep his tone one of amazement, not accusation. 

Nick ran a hand through his hair and chuckled, Charlie’s eyes following the motion of his hand. God, his hands were gorgeous. Like the rest of him. “You uh - you sang a song about it last night?”

Charlie’s stomach dropped and he heard Amy snort loudly, poorly stifling a laugh. “I…”

Nick grinned. “It went, uh…'Badger Café, Badger Café, best place ever to work if you’re gay’. And then, uh, I think I remember…'Badger Café, Badger Café, where someone asks you out on the worst ever da…te’.” Nick chuckled as Amy howled with laughter and Charlie tried to disappear into the floor. “I really liked that kind-of and kind-of-not rhyme on the second line. And I remember the song ended with you singing Badger Café like ten times in a row really quickly.”

“Oh my god,” Charlie moaned, covering his face with his hands as Amy continued choking in the corner. “I hope you came here for a written apology, because no one deserves to hear that. Or experience how fucking drunk I was last night.”

“No, not at all,” Nick said, his eyebrows shooting up and drawing together as he stepped closer to Charlie. “I…I had so much fun with you last night.”

Charlie looked at Nick from between his outstretched fingers, confused. “You…did?” His stupid heart sultana seemed to nose its head up hopefully, wondering if maybe the most perfect man in the world hadn’t realised just what an idiot Charlie Spring was when drunk.

Nick shook his head and seemed to look…fondly confused? “Yes,” he said, looking directly at Charlie, who slowly dropped his hands. “I had such a good time with you.”

Charlie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and heart tripling in speed. “I did…too.”

There was a pause while they both blushed at each other, slow smiles spreading on both of their faces. Charlie realised that maybe he should fill the silence when Nick licked his lips, Charlie’s eyes tracking and following the movement like it held the secrets of the universe, or at least the secrets of how to fold a fitted sheet. Which really, was one of the secrets of the universe.

Nick smiled again at Charlie, this time with a little quirk to his lips. “So, um - if you’re not planning on pulling a second date out of a magician’s hat with Ben…”

Charlie groaned as Amy snickered in the background. “Too soon, Nick,” he said, shaking his head and laughing too. 

Nick chuckled. “Since it sounds like that, uh, your long-term relationship with Ben ended…” Charlie rolled his eyes affectionately. “Since that’s over, I would love to take you out,” said Nick, looking directly at Charlie even with a slight flush on his cheeks. “On a date.”

Charlie couldn’t stop the massive grin from pulling across his features, the hangover disappearing into a cloud of perfect rugby lad date offer. He held up a hand playfully. “I just have to ask…is this date in fact part of any work function that you’re attending?”

Nick laughed loudly and Charlie felt his chest swell with the sound. Nick in turn held up both his hands as if swearing an oath. “I can promise you that a date would not in fact be with all of my colleagues and bosses, and would feature very little piano playing.” Charlie laughed ruefully and Nick grinned at him. “I can’t promise that the song ‘You’re So Vain’ won’t be playing, but…”

Charlie laughed and then nodded, his heart feeling like it was ballooning out of his chest. Nick was here. Nick wanted to go on a date with him - with Charlie Spring. This was…literally the best day of his life. “I would love that,” Charlie said, his whole body warm and sparkling, like it was effervescing. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

Nick smiled. “So, uh - when?”

“How about now?” Amy asked, shutting her computer with a grin and pulling her work apron out of her bag. 

Charlie swung to look at her. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Get out of here, my little Char Char slide,” she said, Nick letting out a guffaw of laughter that made Charlie grin and roll his eyes. “I only made you work today because I guessed that this little smitten kitten might come in and see you. Based on the fact that he asked if you were working at Badger Café on the phone today.” Nick and Charlie both blushed at that, grinning shyly at each other. “Now get out of here so you have plausible deniability that you did not see me put a laxative in case a certain piano-playing illusionist comes in. Though I think he won’t, based on the very caps-lock message I sent him this afternoon when I found him on Insta.”

Charlie blinked, about to ask, but Nick’s beautiful voice spoke again. “I’m free now if you are,” Nick offered with another smile at Charlie that made him feel like he was floating. “If…if you’re up for it.”

Charlie paused before nodding his head emphatically. “Yes,” he said. “I am very up for it.”

Nick waited while Charlie gathered his things and hugged Amy, thanking her in a whisper for being a meddling cow, to which she mooed and then smacked a large kiss on his cheek. Charlie went over to join Nick, who held the door open for Charlie. 

“Ready to go?” Nick asked.

“Yep,” said Charlie, smiling. “I am.”

“Bye, actually,” Amy called with a cheeky grin. 

Nick and Charlie looked at each other and burst out laughing. They walked out into the sunshine, stealing grins at each other. 

“So, uh…anything you’re in the mood for?” asked Nick.

Charlie pretended to think. “Piano bar?”

Nick laughed, then nodded thoughtfully. Then he grinned and jerked his head across the street at the toy store. “Go in there for a second?’

“Sure,” Charlie said, puzzled. He followed Nick in and through the store, laughing aloud Nick finally settled in front of a cheap magic set.

“I figured I needed to grab some supplies,” Nick said with a smile. “I’ve got to impress you.”

Charlie laughed. “I’m not sure you need that to impress me.” He blushed and turned to look at Nick, taking in his perfect features. “I was, uh, pretty impressed just by getting to meet you last night.”

“I was, too,” Nick murmured, stepping closer to Charlie. Their faces were close to each other, so close that Charlie could almost count Nick’s eyelashes. He didn’t get the chance to, though. Nick’s face was closer, even closer. Charlie could breathe in the perfect scent of him, a touch of cologne mixed with the smell of fresh air. It was one of the most intoxicating things Charlie had ever experienced. Charlie waited until the last moment to close his eyes before their lips touched, not wanting to miss a moment of Nicholas Nelson. 

Now this was some true first date magic.