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Nick Nelson always cried at weddings.
He didn’t know if it was because of the lush, floral displays that adorned the ceremony like a garden; if it was because of the gossamer veils and the silk pleated dresses; if it was the piano march, familiar and romantic; or if it was a combination of all three.
Charlie, of course, teased him relentlessly for it. Nick had welled up immediately upon stepping foot into the venue, a refurbished lace factory with ceiling-to-floor windows and rustic, white-washed brick. On the entire four-hour drive to the wedding, Charlie had woven Nick’s overly-sentimental nature into several jokes, even waking Nick up from a brief car nap to tease, “You know, you can’t pretend you have dust in your eye at every wedding we go to. It’s just not possible.”
They were part of the wedding party, of course – Tao and Elle had emphasised this fact from the very beginning, right before Tao even began ring shopping. Nick had a feeling that Charlie had bribed Tao with some kind of financial compensation for asking him to be a groomsman, but he didn’t particularly mind.
Nick cried as Elle walked down the aisle, and he cried during the ceremony, too. Isaac had packed extra tissues in his suit pocket so he could pass them surreptitiously to Nick, who then blew his nose loudly enough for several guests to stare at him from the audience.
During the reception, Nick was able to calm himself down enough as he grazed the appetisers and chatted with their friends – until Tao and Elle’s entrance was announced and tears streamed down his face once more. Isaac commented that Nick had probably outcried Yan, and no one jumped in to disagree.
Later when Charlie pulled him up to dance, Nick’s tears were – for the most part – under control. He wondered if part of him was crying because he was imagining himself and Charlie at their own wedding someday. Charlie caught his gaze and rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.
“Jesus, Nick, you big sap,” Charlie giggled, sliding his arm around Nick’s waist. “You don’t even like Tao, you fucking twat.”
“I do!” Nick defended. “I mean, I love Elle, and I love love and weddings and…” He looked at Charlie’s amused expression, and his bottom lip wobbled pathetically as he failed to enunciate the remainder of his sentence.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Charlie crooned, quirking up an assured brow. He gazed up at Nick with those wide, gleaming eyes that he loved so much – the same eyes he’d spent the better part of six years exchanging glances with over morning coffee and nighttime tea. Charlie slid his arms up Nick’s chest and looped his arms around his neck, pulling himself flush against Nick’s body. “Do you think a… distraction might help?”
“I already ate two slices of the cake, Charlie. Not even dessert can save me now.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. Nick still thought them to be pretty, even when used against him.
“That’s not what I meant, love,” Charlie said, lowering his voice to a whisper. He leaned closer. “When we were getting ready earlier, I happened to have noticed that there’s a lovely unoccupied suite upstairs.”
Nick felt himself flush. “Baby,” he whispered, leaning into Charlie’s ear. “Were you scoping out places for us to fuck in the midst of your curl routine?”
Charlie giggled. “The leave-in conditioner takes forever to dry. Do you know how boring that is?”
“Yes or no?” Nick repeated.
Charlie’s lips curled upward into a smirk. “Yes. Obviously.”
“Oh my god.” A grin broke through his puffy, tear-stained features. “I love you.”
Charlie smiled, his eyes flickering with desire. Nick had grown very accustomed to that look, and seeing it now exacerbated his sense of urgency.
“I almost had you take me right then and there, but I don’t trust you not to fuck up my hair.”
The beginnings of arousal coiled in Nick’s gut, and he wasted no time in grabbing Charlie’s hand, weaving them through the crowd of merging bodies and champagne flutes and tulle dresses. “Yeah, yeah, your curls are your top priority, I know,” Nick teased.
“Not for long,” Charlie murmured under his breath, and Nick’s cheeks warmed. No matter how long they’d been together, Nick would never not blush underneath Charlie’s attention. Charlie lit him up like a firefly.
They crept stealthily up an industrial iron staircase decorated with lavish silk drapes and calla lilies. Charlie was giggling, the sounds floating delicately from his lips like little butterflies and Nick was fighting to keep himself together and refrain from ravishing him right then and there.
The empty suite was a blur of gaudy decor and plush furniture – neither was paying much attention once the door shut behind them. Charlie had pushed him against the door, the knob digging into his lower back – though he was too focused on the way Charlie was kissing him to care.
“I love you,” Charlie said against his lips, and before Nick could respond – could say, for the millionth time, how much he loved Charlie, too – Charlie’s eager lips were on him once more.
Kissing Charlie was a divine cocktail of both familiarity and novelty. His lips, soft and pliable and lush, always tasted the same – like Nick’s favourite indulgence. He could conjure up the feeling of Charlie’s lips against his in his sleep, and the ghost of his kisses often lingered as Nick had them memorised by now.
On the other hand, he and Charlie had kissed each other in so many different ways that if Nick tried to count them all up, he’d rival the amount of stars in the night sky. He never knew what to expect when their lips touched. – if Nick would lick into the seam of Charlie’s lips to break them open, or if Charlie would part them automatically. Sometimes, Charlie would kiss him like it was their first, slow and deliberate – a desperate yearning belying the movement of their mouths; Other times, it would feel like it was their last, desperate and needy, their lips crashing together in kinetic ecstasy. If Nick would control their pace, or if Charlie would dictate the rhythm, or if they’d fight for it with greedy mouths and roaming hands.
Now, though, their kisses were rough and fast, messy and slick with saliva. Charlie nipped at Nick’s swollen bottom lip, and his groan ripped through the both of them. Charlie’s hand moved, gripping his desperately and then pushing at the jacket that was sliding off his shoulders, helping Nick out of his suit jacket. Nick followed, as always, his hands finding and then fumbling with Charlie’s belt, though their lips never separated for longer than a second.
Nick breathed his words into Charlie’s mouth. “What do you wan–”
Charlie shucked off his jacket. “On your knees.”
Nick nearly fell to the floor at his request, unbuttoning Charlie’s trousers and pulling them, along with the waistband of his boxers, down to his feet.
His breath stuttered as Charlie’s hard, leaking cock sprung from his pants. “I love you,” Nick rasped, all of the blood in his body pulsing at once.
All of the emotions of the day came flooding back to him at the look of Charlie above him, his blue eyes alone taking him apart. Nick had known for years that he wanted to spend forever with him, but now, after watching two of their best friends vow to matrimony beside them, Nick decided he couldn’t wait much longer.
He panted, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He breathed his name softly. “Charlie.”
“Yes, baby?” The thickness of arousal in Charlie’s tone slithered in Nick’s belly like two coiling snakes.
“Do you think… I mean, we’ll get married in a year or two, right? I… I love you so much.” He leaned forward to suck Charlie’s cock into his mouth, blonde lashes fluttering shut at the familiar taste of velvety skin and bitter precome.
“Nick,” Charlie gasped, but his voice didn’t sound the way it usually did, high-pitched and pleasured – instead, it was gruff and low. Nick paled instantly at the realisation that Charlie sounded angry.
He retreated in concern, wondering if he’d been too overzealous by taking Charlie so deeply so fast. When he looked up at him once more, Charlie was agape, his brows furrowed in frustration. Nick grimaced.
“Wh–”
“You did not just seriously bring up marrying me with my cock in your face.” Nick wiped his lips, already moist with saliva, with the back of his hand.
“I– I mean, we’ve talked about it in the past–”
“Not seriously. Not with a timeline,” Charlie snapped. His voice wavered, and Nick realised that another emotion was intertwined with Charlie’s frustration. “I didn’t know… I didn’t think it was something you wanted to happen within a year or so!”
“Oh.” Nick’s concern eased into amusement, and he smiled foolishly up at Charlie, noticing the way his cheeks had deepened from a light, flushed rose-colour to a dark vermillion.
Charlie attempted to glower, but his face was too pink and far too pretty to maintain severity. “What?”
“You’re not angry,” Nick noted. “You’re nervous.”
If he allowed himself to think for too long, he’d mull over his tactless way of discussing marriage with his boyfriend of six years – like it was as casual as asking what he wanted for breakfast tomorrow. To Nick, though, the thought had been so ingrained in him – that he’d marry Charlie, without a doubt, as soon as he possibly could – as soon as they had the financial stability and the means to get engaged – that it felt casual. It felt easy, because loving Charlie was easy.
On the other hand, Charlie’s perspective was surely different from his. His Charlie, who conveyed his love in the most special of ways; his Charlie, who would stay up late to welcome him home from work even when he had to get up early the next day; who would engage with him in playful conversation about their future as he held an exhausted Nick against his chest until they drifted off to sleep; who struggled to voice his needs and wants explicitly, and often depicted them through his actions, instead.
Fuck, Nick thought. He’d been such an idiot by blurting it out in the way he had.
“Shut up,” Charlie said with a scowl, though his bashful aversion of eye contact betrayed his terse demeanour. “We’re not going to talk about this until after you fuck me.” For emphasis, he threaded his fingers through Nick’s hair, leading his head towards his cock once more.
Nick decided that he’d remedy his mistake to Charlie like this, first – loving him with precise rocks of his hips and shuddering pleasure – and then he’d remedy it with his words and soft kisses and a promise not to bring up serious conversation during inappropriate times (and especially not when distracted by Charlie’s cock in his face).
Having sex with Charlie was one of – if not his favourite – thing in the world. So, with a quick smile, he leaned forward to take Charlie in his mouth again.
By now, Nick could get Charlie off like this completely blind. He knew just where to lick – on the underside of his cock – to get Charlie to release the sound that sent shivers down the nape of Nick’s neck, and just how to pace the bobs of his head – slow at first, with increasing speed every minute or so – to get Charlie babbling.
It never got old, even after all these years. In fact, if anything, Nick would argue that it only got better. Nick would live for Charlie and he would die for Charlie, and every cell in his body alighted with stars in his presence as though to confirm every single declaration.
Above him, Charlie’s head was lolled back slightly, his lips parted to elicit the most deliciously raspy groans that Nick had ever heard. Nick’s hands climbed until they were at Charlie’s slender waist, gripping the wrinkled cotton of his cream-coloured button-up as he steadied Charlie’s body. He drew him closer and then apart in tandem with the bobs of his head, opening his mouth wider to suck Charlie deeper.
“Fuck.” Charlie gasped as Nick relaxed his jaw, directing his cock right to the soft pink flesh at the back of Nick’s throat. Desperate for more of Charlie’s sounds, he repeated the motion, breathing in through his nose; Charlie tugged Nick’s hair by the root, a wicked groan pillowing like smoke from his lips. “God, you’re s-so good at this, I – fuck.”
Nick sputtered after an overeager attempt to take Charlie even deeper – he hadn’t timed his breaths quite right and he’d choked, releasing Charlie’s cock with flushed cheeks and gasps for air. He flicked his gaze upwards to look at Charlie through his lashes, who reached down to cup the side of his face.
“You got too ahead of yourself, baby, didn’t you?” Charlie asked, pitiful and sardonic in the way that turned Nick’s insides into melted wax. As Nick nodded, Charlie swiped the saliva dribbling from Nick’s bottom lip, and he opened his mouth just enough for Charlie to tuck his thumb inside. “I love you so much,” he breathed.
When he swallowed, his throat felt scratchy and raw, but he leaned in for more anyway. Charlie, still gripping his hair with one hand, hindered the movement.
“No more,” he said, and Nick’s cock twitched in his pants. If Charlie noticed, he didn’t say anything – he was too busy unbuttoning his shirt, his long, perfect fingers descending flawlessly down the seam.
Golden-hour light, tangerine and marigold, streamed in through the windows, emphasising the contrasts of shadow and light on Charlie’s skin. His stomach was taut, his hip bones protruding and delectable, his ribs aching to be touched. A soft dusting of hair trailed from beneath his belly button and descended to his cock, still hard and soaked in Nick’s saliva. Nick’s lips downturned in desperation.
Charlie laughed wickedly. “Go ahead,” he relented, watching Nick’s patiently-impatient expression.
Barely a moment passed before Nick was upright and pushing Charlie back onto the mattress, a cute little squeak of surprise resounding in Nick’s ear as his head hit the pillow. Their lips slotted together with ease, champagne and chocolate cake mingling as they tasted each other, Nick’s yearning conveyed through the whines bubbling from his lips.
“I love you,” Nick breathed in between their kisses. If he thought about it too hard, he’d start to cry again – but he allowed himself some reprieve with the brushing of his lips across Charlie’s rosy cheek, the first inch of Charlie’s skin that he’d ever kissed.
“I love you, too,” Charlie murmured. “Now take your clothes off and fuck me.”
Nick definitely didn’t need to be told twice – but he couldn’t help but lave kisses down the trail of wiry hair along Charlie’s navel before he obeyed. Charlie responded with a contented sigh and nothing more.
He shucked off his trousers and boxers, his eyes never once leaving Charlie’s heady gaze. Nick was naked from the waist down, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when Charlie said, “There’s lube in my wallet.”
A surprised snort tumbled from Nick’s mouth. “Just how long have you been planning this, baby?”
“Since the moment Tao got down on one knee.”
With a grin, Nick found the packets of lube, his shirt still half-buttoned, and tossed them on the bed. Charlie groaned.
“Hurry up, please.” For emphasis, he rolled onto his stomach before positioning himself on his hands and knees.
Nick’s breath caught in his chest, his hands working overtime as he finally, finally, slid the last button through the slit in the fabric and clambered unceremoniously onto the bed, his hands shaking in anticipation.
“Fuck,” he rasped, gripping Charlie’s arse with his hands. He spread him open, weak at the knees and dizzy with hunger and arousal, noticing the sheen of lube lingering behind. “C-Charlie,” Nick stammered, tightening his grip on Charlie’s arse to steady himself. “Did you already prep?”
“Yes,” Charlie said, his voice flat. “This morning in the shower.”
Nick squeezed his eyes shut at the image of Charlie fingering himself just a room away while Nick was fastening his tie – he was so turned on that when a groan broke through his lips, he wasn’t at all surprised.
“Jesus Christ,” Nick whimpered, reaching for his own erection to tease at Charlie’s slick entrance.
“No,” Charlie asserted, and Nick dropped his cock instantly, groaning in desperation for relief. “You need to check.”
“Check what?” Nick asked, breathy and gravelly and desperate.
Charlie arched a brow in a challenge. “That I’m stretched properly.” The thud of Nick’s heartbeat against his ribcage was borderline violent. As much as he craved the warmth and tightness of Charlie around his cock, the thought of exploring Charlie with his fingers was just as enticing, if not more.
“Yes,” Nick replied hazily. “Yes, yeah, I can do that.”
He started with his pointer finger, circling Charlie’s rim with a held breath, biting his lip to keep from moaning.
“Uh-uh,” Charlie admonished. “Tongue first. Then fingers.”
In silent compliance, ever-eager to please, Nick leaned in with an introductory lick – light and gentle. Then, he placed a kiss where his fingers ached to be inside of as Charlie whined and cursed above him.
Just as Nick had memorised the ways in which Charlie liked his cock to be sucked, he’d also learned how to pluck and tongue Charlie apart until he bloomed. He rotated between kitten licks and long, slow laps with a flattened tongue, allowing Charlie’s increasingly loud groans to guide him.
He loved the feeling of his tongue entering Charlie for the first time, the way his body adjusted to Nick until his tongue could dip through the loosening muscle into his favourite place. Charlie’s abdomen went taut where Nick gripped him for more precision, releasing a beautiful moan that nearly sent Nick’s eyes rolling back into his head. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he gently curled his tongue, thrusting and rotating and licking while his fingers dug into Charlie’s waist.
“Oh, oh-h my fucking god, Nick, just- just like that, yeah,” he moaned, pushing his hips back for more. Nick’s breaths puffed out in pants as Charlie gyrated against his tongue, synching his ministrations with Nick’s licks.
Nick loved him so much he could barely breathe with it.
He removed his tongue from inside, focusing on lapping up his own mess with flattened licks. Slowly, he placed his finger beside his mouth, tracing Charlie’s rim alongside his tongue. Charlie arched his back and dropped down onto his elbows, gasping Nick’s name in broken syllables. Nick looped his arm around Charlie’s hips, tugging him as closely against his mouth as he possibly could.
Nothing urged him on more than the way Charlie’s body responded to him – his thighs trembled as Nick inserted the first finger, sliding in with ease while Nick paused his licks to catch his breath. Instead, he indulged in the way he disappeared inside of Charlie, the way pinkness clutched at his finger as it moved in and out.
“Fuck,” Nick groaned. His voice was so thick that it dripped from his mouth like honey. There were few things he loved more than watching Charlie writhe and moan at Nick’s volition, and he often found that it was Charlie’s pleasure that aroused him more than his own.
“More,” Charlie begged, shuddering underneath him. “Another finger, Nick, now.”
“I can’t wait to be inside of you, my love,” Nick panted. He tucked in another finger by the first one, sliding it in with little resistance – between Charlie’s earlier prep and Nick’s tongue, he figured it wouldn’t be long at all before he was lining himself up and pushing the tip of his cock through.
He scissored his fingers, watching in rapt arousal as they twisted and curled inside of Charlie, Nick sank wholly and completely into the sight, committing the vision to memory.
“You’re so beautiful,” Nick said in a choked whisper. Before Charlie could respond, he curled his fingers adeptly – yielding a high-pitched mewl that had Nick’s eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the sound.
“Oh, oh,” he cried as Nick plucked him again, and again, intoxicated on the shrieks of pleasure flooding the room. His voice raised to a shout as he cried “Fuck, enough, Nick.” Nick paused in a haze of utter bliss. “I get it, you know where my prostate is.” Nick could tell he’d said it through gritted teeth, and he smiled in an amplified sense of pride.
“Are you sure?” Nick asked. “I could check again, just in case.”
“You’re going to check again with your cock,” Charlie demanded. “In me now, please.”
After carefully removing his fingers, Nick ripped open a packet of lube with his teeth. He could already feel the sweat beading on his concentrated forehead and warm cheeks, and the golden sheen on Charlie’s spine conveyed much of the same. He added some more lube to Charlie for good measure before wiping his fingers on the sheets – Nick couldn’t refrain from whimpering softly as he slicked himself with lube.
He positioned himself behind Charlie, holding his aching cock. He raised his gaze to meet Charlie’s eyes, hooded and low, smouldering with arousal. “Ready?” “Fucking yes,” Charlie hissed, turning back around and shuffling on his knees. “Just get in me already.”
Nick laughed lowly as he teased his cock around Charlie’s rim, watching as Charlie shoved his hips backwards in a wordless plea. He used one hand to steady himself and the other to direct the tip of his cock inside, hissing with pleasure at the first press.
“Oh, Jesus,” Nick groaned, his hand fisting the sheets beside Charlie’s thigh. “Charlie, Charlie, I love you so much.”
“I k-know you do, baby,” Charlie puffed through straining breaths. “You c-can keep g-going.”
No matter how many times they’d done this, nothing ever prepared Nick for the initial feeling of sheathing himself completely inside of Charlie. He always took it slow, and always at Charlie’s direction, and the drawn-out pleasure received from disappearing, inch by inch, inside of his boyfriend was, quite possibly, the best of all.
While he waited for Charlie’s okay to start moving, his eyes trailed over the familiar divots of Charlie’s spine and the mop of raven-coloured curls contrasting against the ivory linens. He’d touched and stroked and kissed every single centimetre of Charlie’s body, more than once; he’d toyed with every single curly wisp of hair over his fingertips, and brushed through every coil, and it would still never be enough.
“I love you,” Nick whimpered again.
“I love you, too,” Charlie groaned. “You — you can start moving, baby.”
Nick repositioned his hands back to Charlie’s waist as he started with a slow, experimental thrust. Charlie gasped and Nick groaned and then Charlie begged, “Faster,” and Nick snapped his hips as stars burst in his vision.
“Yes,” Charlie moaned as Nick sank into a steady rhythm, squeezing Charlie’s waist with enough fervour to leave bruises. “Oh my g-god you’re so fucking–”
Charlie jolted underneath Nick’s grip with a guttural yelp as he thrust into Charlie just so, brushing against the spot that turned Charlie into a mewling mess. “Fuck,” Nick cried, and his skin seared with the outspoken evidence of Charlie’s pleasure.
One of Nick’s hands reached for Charlie’s shoulder for more leverage, groans rippling from his mouth as he met Charlie’s body, again and again; the sounds of skin against skin and cries of pleasure filled the orange-lit room, whispered confessions of love interspersed between the gaps.
“Uhng, Charlie,” Nick gasped, and Charlie twisted his head back to look at him like an answered prayer. Nick couldn’t help but curse again as their eyes met – Charlie’s pupils had consumed the sea, his bottom lip bruising red and puffy as though he’d bitten through it, again and again, his gaze dreamy and bushy eyebrows pinched. “Oh, god, look at you,” Nick moaned, slowing down to thread his fingers through Charlie’s curls. He’d trade every day of his life for an extra second in Charlie’s presence.
“Y-you –” Charlie panted. “You f-feel so fucking good, Nick.” Nick shuddered at the praise, sweat dappling his chest.
“On your side for me, sweet boy,” Nick said in a breath, pausing as Charlie rolled onto his side. The air was cool against Nick’s exposed cock, and he ached for the warmth and the tightness that only Charlie’s body could provide.
He laid behind him, Charlie’s back against his sticky chest, pressing quick, sloppy kisses into the nape of his mottled-pink neck. Black curls tickled his chin as he lifted Charlie’s leg, using his other hand to slide his cock inside once more.
The reintroduction almost felt better than the initial thrust – this time, Nick had to bury his face in the crook of Charlie’s neck to stifle his moan, breathing in the scent of his coconut shampoo while he fought with his vocal cords. Charlie, on the other hand, cried out plaintively, too enthralled in the pleasure to hinder himself with the pillow.
“Please,” he whined. “Nick, please.”
With a brief kiss to Charlie’s shoulder, he pulled himself back slowly before thrusting in again. Nick’s arm was hooked underneath Charlie’s leg, his other looped below Charlie’s neck as he took Charlie apart underneath the sun setting over the horizon.
The angle was heavenly and achingly deep, and Nick dragged out his movements as much as he could while Charlie trembled and whimpered in his embrace. “God, yeah, Nick, yeah,” he moaned, and Nick whispered every praise in the universe in his ear.
“I love you, I love you,” Nick breathed, hooking Charlie’s leg over his own. With his free hand, he wove his fingers through Charlie’s curls, tugging gently as he rolled his hips, until Charlie gasped, More, and Nick pulled at them ardently.
Nick could feel the familiar pool of heat coiling in his belly that told him he was close – but he refused to reach the edge without seeing Charlie’s face contorted in pleasure first.
“Baby, can you lay on your back?” Nick panted, stilting his movements despite the urge to keep going, again and again, just so that Charlie’s sounds didn’t have to stop.
“Yeah,” Charlie huffed, adjusting himself onto the mattress. When Nick looked at him again – really looked at him – his heart nearly left his body. He’d turned Charlie to divine ruins, heavenly features wrecked like a fallen cathedral.
Nick’s lip parted in longing as he kneeled between Charlie’s spread legs, lifting him gently by the hips so that he could push himself inside once more.
“Fuck,” Nick moaned, his eyes screwing in pleasure as he choked out a slew of whines. When he opened them with a sharp exhale, he saw Charlie’s lips parted in a groan, sweat dappling his forehead from the heat they’d created.
“Mm, y-yeah, keep going,” Charlie pleaded, rocking his hips until they both shuddered.
He began to move again, hovering over Charlie with a feverish gaze while he unravelled him with calculated thrusts and gasps of his name. Charlie’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets, and Nick made a mental note to kiss them back into colour once they finished.
“Baby, I- I’m getting close, fuck,” Nick gasped.
Charlie smiled wickedly. “Come on, Nick,” he said lowly. “You can do better than that.”
Blue eyes flared challengingly into pools of amber, and Nick released a humourless, raspy laugh.
“I know what you’re doing, love,” Nick said, and Charlie shrugged.
“Yeah? What am I doing, baby?”
Nick ignored him — he knew Charlie loved to rile him up, and he was too overfilled with love and affection to do anything but capitulate to the challenge. He hooked both of Charlie’s legs atop his shoulders, feeling Charlie tighten around his cock at the change in angle, and both of them groaned as Nick settled his hands on either side of Charlie’s arms.
He sucked bruises on Charlie’s shoulder as though to draw life from him as Nick drew his hips back and forth, angling himself to ensure he could hit the spot that made Charlie shriek as much as possible. Nick could almost cry with how turned on he was, how tight Charlie felt, how Charlie babbled Yeah, baby, like that, and I fucking love you and You always fuck me so good.
With the tiny bit of energy he had left, Nick slipped his hand down between them to stroke Charlie’s cock, tugging him as he mewled angelically in his ear.
And then Charlie was shouting, “Nick, N-ick, gonna come, I can’t–” and Nick watched him in awe as he let go, blue eyes squeezing shut with a sob as warmth spilled between them.
Nick careened towards the edge at the very moment that Charlie began to come down, and he cried Charlie’s name into the pillow as stars burst inside his eyes.
They’d barely come down to earth before Nick kneeled in between Charlie’s legs once more, lifting his hips off the bed and all the way up to his mouth. Charlie gasped, already aware of Nick’s plan, and then Nick spread him open and licked at his own come.
Charlie groaned at the sensitivity as Nick lapped at his entrance, licking up as Nick’s pleasure seeped out of him. He tongued inside of Charlie a few more times, obscene noises pouring from his mouth at the wetness, before flattening his tongue and gathering the excess droplets.
He lowered Charlie down gently, licking his lips clean with a smile.
“Fucking filthy,” Charlie gasped with a breathy laugh.
“Yeah, well, I love you,” Nick said, wiping saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I love you too,” Charlie said softly. “Now go find us a towel, you slag.”
Nick was happy to oblige, intoxicated off of his orgasm and Charlie’s affection and the hazy comedown of intimacy. He found a towel in the room’s en suite, wiped Charlie down and then himself, smiling foolishly at his boyfriend’s look of spent satisfaction.
“So,” Nick said, flopping back down on the bed with a grin. “Marriage, huh?”
A beat passed and then Charlie was hitting him with a pillow. “Nick,” he shouted, gasping into laughter. “That was even worse than the first time, you absolute idiot.”
“Oh.” Nick grimaced. “Oops.”
Charlie climbed on top of him, both still naked, to press a wet kiss to Nick’s sweaty forehead. “Nick,” Charlie said with a lopsided smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know.”
“I love you a stupidly huge, ridiculous amount,” Nick replied. “And I’m a stupidly huge and ridiculous man who doesn’t know how to tell you that he wants to spend forever with you.”
“Well,” Charlie said softly. “Seems like you have about a year or two to practise.”
“No, less than that,” Nick said, brows furrowed in concentration. “That’s when we’re married. We’ll be engaged far sooner than that.”
When Charlie huffed and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes with a frustrated shout, Nick couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe he’d never be able to phrase it right — maybe his feelings were far too vast and intricate for words to describe. And maybe, when he finally did get down on one knee, he’d fumble his way through the proposal the moment Charlie’s eyes met his.
He reached for Charlie’s hand, tangling their fingers together.
“Should we… get dressed, maybe?” Nick asked.
“No,” Charlie said flatly.
“No? Won’t Tao be getting antsy by now?”
“Sue me. I don’t care about that,” Charlie replied, still on top of Nick. “Right now, I need you to kiss me until I’m hard again, and then you’re going to fuck me with your mouth until you learn your fucking lesson.”
Nick swallowed, his clammy skin igniting into flames once more. “And then?”
“And then we’re going to go back downstairs and dance, and when we get home tomorrow, we’re going to get each others’ ring sizes.”
Nick felt his cheeks warm in sheepishness. “R-really? You… you want to?”
Charlie bit his lip, but Nick could see the smile poking through. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Of course I do.” Nick leaned up to kiss the corner of his smile, Charlie’s cheeks warm underneath his lips.
Tears pooled in his eyes once again. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, idiot. Now get on your knees again.”
As Charlie smiled down at him, swiping a tear lovingly from the corner of Nick’s eye, Nick lowered himself to the floor once more, imagining the day he’d get down on just one knee instead of two.