Charlie stepped into his house. Shoes off and coat on his arm, he started up the stairs before his father came down first. Charlie stepped aside for him as Julio greeted, “You’re back late. Good day?”
“Yeah,” he sighed wearily. “Why are you up?”
“In Spain, we eat churros for breakfast. The way I see it, they’re allowed if it’s technically the morning.”
Charlie smiled and left his father to his midnight snack—
Julio looked through one of the less textured panes of stained glass in the front door and frowned, “Charlie? Where’s the car?”
He paused on the stairs and had to remember through a swampy brain, “I left it at work. We all shared a drink after the party, so I took the last bus home.”
“You’re all right taking the bus tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I know the route. It’s fine.”
“All right. Good night, son. Love you.”
“I love you,” Charlie returned, and trudged up the stairs. He forewent a shower to sleep and toppled right into his bed. He could use the shower to help him wake up in a few hours. Until then, a shadow leapt onto the bed with him. Her body warmed his shoulder where she settled on the pillow with him. He folded his arm up to lethargically pet her fur, and the vibrations of her purring were better than any cushion.
What a night. A great night. After the business of the symposium had finished, everyone let loose in the smaller ballroom or drank in the drawing rooms. There seemed to be a collective understanding to ignore the Closed signs in the back garden. Charlie even fed twice; the woman while the sun was up, and a man after all was dark. He was straight, unfortunately, but Charlie’s brain rushed with the double dose of fresh, raw blood all the same. Not a bad way to finish his shift, blood drunk and sharing a shot with the kitchen staff.
And he had a breakfast date of all things soon. What in the world was his life?
* * *
Nick pulled on his shirt, watching the lines go flat in his bedroom mirror before he let go and they all relaxed back into place. He’d never cared about his silly uniform until today. Really, he was rather tired of Charlie always seeing him in his Truham outfit. Never was this more pronounced than when the doorbell rang and he ran down the stairs to open the door.
Charlie stood in blue jeans, white converse, a plaid shirt buttoned over a t-shirt, and a green coat underneath a red knit beanie. He was so…colourful. He smiled cheerily, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Nick exhaled, his lungs equally punched out and far too full of air.
He stepped aside for Charlie to come inside, but the latter asked, “Am I too late?”
“No, you’re on time,” Nick insisted, still waiting. Charlie’s smile faded as he peeked into his house, as if looking for something. In the meantime, Nellie ambled up to the stoop. Nick introduced, “This is Nellie.”
Charlie lit back up and knelt down for her to smell his hands. “Hello, Nellie. You’re beautiful. Do you smell the kitty?”
She must’ve, because she sniffed Charlie all over until Sarah came out from the kitchen and greeted him. “Good morning, Charlie. Do come in.”
Charlie stepped over the threshold with a gentle, “ ‘Scuse me, Nellie.”
She moved for him but he had to carefully toe off his shoes as she continued to scrutinize his smell. He dropped his beanie over his shoes while Nick shut the door, but paused with a frown at the driveway. “Did you park on the street?”
Charlie fussed over his curls while he answered, “Uh, no. I left the car at the hotel and took the bus home.”
“Really? Why?”
“There was drinking after the shift.”
Sarah laughed from the kitchen, “Oh, yes. A treat after a long day. Are you allergic to anything, Charlie? I’ve got pancakes in the oven and sausage on the stove. I can pull fruit from the fridge, if you like.”
“Pancakes and sausage are good,” he urged. “This is a lot already. On a school day?”
Sarah flapped a spatula towards her son. “This one’s rugby metabolism keeps me on my feet.”
Charlie stood in place holding his fingertips until Nick gave him a plate. Charlie followed his lead in using tongs to remove pancakes from the oven, and added a pair of sausage links before he dressed the cakes in syrup.
Sarah did cut a few strawberries to place the offering on the table since she knew Nick would nibble them. She sat down with her son while Charlie set his plate down first. “Charlie, would you grab the butter dish, please? I didn’t have the space of mind to lay the table this morning.”
“It’s okay,” he assured, and retrieved the dish. Nobody had toast, but Sarah had a front seat view of the way Nick’s eyes captured the sunlight through the kitchen windows as Charlie returned to the table and sat down opposite him. Charlie scooted his chair in and flashed a smile down at Nellie beside him. He chimed, “Hello,” and realized, “I forgot a fork.”
“I’ve got it,” Nick volunteered, and smoothly pivoted out of his seat to open the silverware drawer.
He set down a knife and fork the same time Charlie pulled his plaid sleeves up—exposing maroon scabs of curved lines traveling up his forearms. Sarah marveled, “Goodness, you do have a cat at home.”
Charlie pulled his sleeves back down. “Sorry,” and added a terse, “Thanks,” to Nick.
“It’s all right,” Sarah assured. “Tell me about this kitten.”
Charlie provided, “I rescued her from behind the hotel last week.”
“You basically have two jobs, then.”
He laughed lightly. “Yeah, I do.”
“How is she?” Nick asked, chewing his pancakes and stabbing a strawberry wedge with his fork.
“She’s good,” Charlie said, cutting into his own. “Really good. She’s rehabilitating fast.”
Sarah wiped her mouth and asked, “What is the care like for that process?”
Charlie opened his mouth before he thought better of it. “Do you want to hear all that over food?”
Nick peeked at his mother, who said, “I assume she needed some kind of de-worm treatment.”
Charlie nodded and slid his fork out of his mouth. His eyelids shut firmly as he chewed. They gave him the time to eat, and when he swallowed he said, “Thankfully, she’s old enough for vaccines, but she was dehydrated and malnourished. She eats so well, I’m so relieved.”
“Cats are notoriously bad at drinking water. Do you mix it with her food?” Sarah wondered.
Charlie shook his head, chewing again before he could say, “I use what’s called a butterfly needle to inject fluids under the scruff of her fur. It gives her a little camel hump for a bit, but her body absorbs it. Sorry, that’s disgusting.”
Nick shook his head. “No, it isn’t. What’s special about a butterfly needle?”
Charlie set his fork and knife down to hold his hands like butterfly wings. “It has these little plastic wings that hold it steady. It’s good for movement, like a wiggly cat. She doesn’t even notice it’s there.”
Sarah asked, “Have you named her?”
Charlie nodded through a closed smile. He used his napkin before he confirmed, “I have. Belle.”
“Like Beauty and the Beast?” Sarah brightened before she said to Nick, “That was your favourite as a child.”
“Was it?” he deflected, embarrassed.
Charlie saved him with, “It’s a term in speed skating. My sister’s partner, he’s a speed skater, and they have what’s called a Bell Lap. It’s the last lap of the race where they go their hardest. Whenever the cat is running mad around a room, Michael says she’s in her bell lap.”
Nick’s smile pushed his cheeks up to his eyes. He liked this Michael twofold, for his quirks and his being someone else’s partner.
Charlie extracted his phone from his jeans to find a photo to show them. Nick voiced, “Wow, she looks like a proper cat now.”
“Beautiful eyes,” Sarah seconded. “I love the bow tie collar.”
“The vet gave us that,” Charlie smiled, “for not going on a murder spree at the technicians.”
Nick covered his mouth so he didn’t spew. Sarah laughed at him and then continued on, “Do you go to school?”
She caught him with his mouth full. Charlie seemed lost to the flavours until he managed to say, “Off and on. I start back up in the summer.”
“Why not a regular term?”
Nick peeked at his mother, realizing this might be an interrogation. But Charlie answered, “My school doesn’t offer every course every term. Some classes are every other term or every other year. The way it’s all worked out for me is a bit weird, but there wasn’t anything I needed this term, so I chose to work and then pick back up in June.”
“What do you like to study?”
Charlie smiled bashfully. “It’s a bit niche.”
“I hope so. Give me something interesting,” she taunted.
Charlie moved his tongue to clean his teeth while he rounded up his thoughts. “My coursework is a bit of a scavenger hunt. I guess, in a nutshell, it’s the archive of the interconnectedness of queer people and vampires throughout historic and contemporary culture.”
The kitchen went very quiet, but not in a bad way. In a rush of awe, Nick felt aware of how intelligent Charlie was. Sarah encouraged, “That sounds like anthropology.”
“In part, it is. It’s a bit of literature, history, sociology, and anthropology. My professors beg me to focus on a narrow time period but it’s just impossible. Everything connects, so I take the train and go everywhere.”
Sarah smiled, “What’s your favourite, though?”
Charlie’s spine melted a little as he swayed with his thoughts. “In my own time, I read about ancient history.”
Nick perked up, “The museum exhibit on your insta feed. That was ancient history, wasn’t it?”
Charlie didn’t react to Nick’s prying. He nodded and explained for Sarah, “The V-and-A hosted an exhibit on the Etruscans. They were Italians before Rome was a big deal. It was put together by Jack Maddox and Henry Fox,” he finished excitedly.
Nick didn’t know who Jack Maddox was, but he certainly knew of Henry Fox. Otherwise known as Henry Hanover-Stuart Windsor Fox. The most famous vampire in England, and perhaps the world. The youngest of the ex-royal family, the poor man grew up with all of England’s eyes on him.
“That’s sounds lovely,” Sarah said, “It also sounds difficult to get in.”
Charlie nodded, “My school thankfully had a connection. A lot of education resources were given priority to the exhibit. A bit gate-keepy, but it worked out for me.”
Sarah pinned Nick with her stare. “And that’s why people attend university.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know, mum.”
Charlie looked at him. “Do you not want to go to uni?”
Nick shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. I don’t know where I want to go.”
Charlie jabbed a sausage link with his fork and assured, “You have time.”
The way Charlie bit into the link made a slight smile warm Nick’s face. Like a carrot, he enjoyed the snap of the link casing. Meanwhile, Sarah inquired, “You said, the interconnectedness of queer people and vampires. Can you elaborate?”
Charlie rolled right into, “Both sets of people have been hidden, subjugated, or medically neglected in similar ways. They’ve held together in the same methods: underground clubs, drag shows, theatre…basically all culture has grassroots in queer and vampiric places. A really easy example is the stereotypical, macho, leather-clad, rock musician. Those famous musicians wearing leather were originally only able to get gigs in inclusive, embracing spaces. Spaces where queer people dressed in leather.”
Sarah nodded, “Leather daddies.”
Nick’s head snapped up. “How do you know that?”
She laughed merrily. “I wasn’t born yesterday, darling. The gene might have skipped me, but your Aunt Diane certainly took me around to the vampire haunts when we were young. Charlie’s right; many, if not most, are also gay clubs.”
Nick smiled in equal amounts of thrill and embarrassment at his mother’s youthful gallivanting. Charlie giggled, not feeling so under a spotlight anymore. He asked, “May I get a glass of water?”
“Of course, you can. The filter on the tap is new. The cabinet right of the sink has the glasses.”
Charlie looked down and had to move the chair on his other side for a route to stand up. Nick understood why when he apologized, “Sorry, Nellie.”
A monumental dog sigh was heard, but breakfast continued as if they didn’t have the rest of the day waiting on them. Charlie sat back down and gulped his water while Sarah asked, “What do you do for work in the city, then?”
Charlie set his glass down and said, “Whatever I can find, but I’m usually a drummer.”
Her brows flew up and she exclaimed through chewing, “Really? What sort of music?”
“I started in, like, alternative pop stuff…but I do single shows and temporary contracts with studios. So, all sorts of genres.”
“Studios? Then you’re interested in music production?”
Charlie smiled guiltily. “I’m mostly interested in staying in one spot. It’s a musician’s lot to have to travel for shows and tours. I’d like to have as close to a nine to five as I can, until my university studies take me somewhere.”
She nodded deeply. “I understand. It’s nice that you were able to find work here and it be as simple as popping home for a few months.”
“Yeah, I like the hotel. The staff has been really good to me.”
Sarah recalled, “Nicky, your rugby banquet is at the hotel, isn’t it?”
He nodded but said, “I don’t know if it’s going to change after the firework incident. If an investigation linked the boys to the Truham team, the hotel might not host us.”
“Firework incident?” she queried.
“A few boys tried to shoot fireworks out of a bathroom window. One of them didn’t make it and exploded in the toilet.”
“Oh, my word.”
Charlie provided, “The rugby team was too busy with the birthday boy. As far as I know, they’re ironically innocent.”
“Ironically,” Nick repeated. Charlie gave him a keen smirk but finished his sausage links.
Sarah intercepted, “The banquet is for all of Truham and Higgs’ sports teams, but we’ll just let the hotel handle that. Charlie, will you be working there if you’re due back at school around that time?”
She gave him the date and he used his phone to look at his calendar. He licked his teeth again and confirmed, “Mm! That’s my last day.”
Nick felt all of his organs sink. June. Charlie moved back to the city in June. They were at the end of April. They had a little over a month left…
Charlie looked up at him, but his expression only gave him a small press of his lips and apologetic eyes.
Nick considered himself done with breakfast and took his dishes to the sink. Charlie was slower to eat, so he grasped his mother’s plate as well. She uttered, “Thank you, darling,” and posed at Charlie, “What’s the rest of your spring look like?”
Nick looked back from the sink and kept the water stream low so he could hear, “I’m not sure. I’m only really thinking about this week. I have a short shift Wednesday morning, and then I’m off for the rest of the week for my birthday.”
“Happy early birthday,” she exclaimed. “Exciting plans?”
Charlie shared, “My sister and her partner are taking me to an orchestra show. We grew up with Nintendo games, and it’s a big Zelda event.”
“We know all about those,” she said with a look at her son. “Not a holiday goes past without something from Nintendo under the tree. May I ask what the big number is?”
“Twenty-one,” he replied, his arms pressed tight to his sides.
Sarah gave no reaction to that, but wished, “Well, I hope you have a wonderful time,” and stood to gather her materials for work.
Charlie took the cue and brought his plate to the sink. Nick heard, “Sorry, where’s the bin?”
Nick looked down at the half of pancake he had left. “You don’t want it?”
“I eat slowly, and you have somewhere to be.”
“You have time,” Nick reassured, but he guessed by Charlie’s expression, “Are you sure?”
He nodded, “Yeah, I should be going.”
Nick picked up Charlie’s fork and folded the pancake to shovel into his mouth. Charlie commented bluntly, “Wow.”
“Wha’?” Nick challenged.
“Nothing,” Charlie laughed. “Thank you for washing that.”
Nick hummed a You’re welcome, and set the plates on the drying rack. Next came the skillet and he finished as his mother set her bags on the kitchen table. “Whenever you’re ready, Nicky. Charlie, do you need a ride?”
“No, thanks, I don’t mind walking. The weather’s good this morning.”
Nick wanted to ask how close Charlie lived if he was able to walk home. Instead, he shrugged into his coat, grabbed his tie, and carried his school and rugby bags out of the house after a kiss on Nellie’s head. In the driveway, he said to Charlie, “Have a good day.”
Charlie smiled at him and adjusted the beanie reestablished on his head. Nick liked the curls poking out of it on his forehead. “You too. Thanks for breakfast, Sarah.”
“You’re welcome, Charlie. Be safe.”
“I will,” he said, and turned out of the driveway. Nick marked the direction he went and folded himself into his mother’s car. It took everything in him not to look out the back windshield to see if Charlie remained on the sidewalk or if he crossed the road to cut through the park in the center of the neighborhood.
As if she knew where his thoughts were, Sarah conversed, “He’s a nice young man. How’d you meet him?”
“Um,” Nick swallowed as he thought back. His brows furrowed. “The guys on the team recognized him at Harry’s party, or someone did and told the others. I didn’t meet him until I went outside for some air. He was feeding Belle the meat from a sandwich.”
She glanced at him with worry tilting her features. “Did you not have a good time at the party? You went straight to bed after Otis’s mother dropped you off.”
Nick kept his gaze out his window. He couldn’t tell her he’d been overwhelmed from kissing Charlie. He did, however, answer honestly, “I didn’t really enjoy it until I met Charlie. He let me stay close to him since my friends were being annoying.”
A beat passed for her to absorb that, and then, “Annoying, how?”
Nick’s thumbs rubbed together on his lap. “I haven’t asked what Charlie’s time at Truham was like, but…I don’t think it went well. I think he was bullied. The guys were too excited to hear his name. I didn’t want to be a part of it.”
She calculated, “The boys thought they’d harass a twenty year old hotel employee?”
Nick indulged in a laugh at the absurdity of it. “Yeah. They’re not the brightest.”
“You’re not friends with Charlie because you feel sorry for him, are you?”
The question wiped Nick’s brain clean. He hadn’t thought of that. He did have a pretty easy answer, though. “No. I don’t feel sorry for him. I feel…curious. He’s not like anyone else I know. Every time I see him, I’m the annoying one with questions.”
Sarah sent a smile at him. “I think your aunt would like him. She would love to pick his brain and have a vampire’s company.”
Nick looked at her. “You knew he’s a vampire?”
“Of course.”
“How?”
She took a deep breath and said, “Well, for starters, he didn’t come into the house until I invited him.”
Nick scoffed, “That’s only a thing in movies.”
“Perhaps, but it’s from real vampire manners.”
“It is?” he latched on.
“Vampires are very protective of their space, my love. It’s out of respect and politeness that they reciprocate by not intruding into others’ homes unless having explicit invitation.”
Nick thought deeply on this for a moment. “Charlie working at a hotel, then, seems…a little sad.”
“It’s not his home,” she reassured, “but vampires can feel out of sorts staying at hotels. That said, it makes perfect sense why he doesn’t want to tour as a musician. And lastly, he must’ve fed recently, since he ate like he hasn’t enjoyed food in a while.”
He rolled his head over his headrest to frown at her. “What do you mean?”
“A vampire can’t taste very well, or anything at all, if they need blood first.”
His head lifted up. “Really? That sounds awful.”
“It is quite unfair,” she agreed, and pulled into her customary spot to drop him off at Truham Grammar. “Your tie.”
He held her gaze and then realized, “Oh!” and quickly flipped down the visor mirror and knotted his striped tie into place. He folded down his collar and rushed out of the car. “Love you!”
“Love you. I’ll pick you up after practice.”
* * *
Nick didn’t have time to see Charlie before he left for his long birthday weekend. In lieu of that, Nick messaged him on Instagram. Do you like soup?
I don’t trust anyone who dislikes soup.
Nick sent him a picture of the cutting board next to the soup pot. He thought it a lovely, vibrant photo with the vegetables and soup midway to completion, but Charlie sent back, What happened to your hand?
Nick looked down at his scraped knuckles. Rugby.
It looks like you were in a fight.
A fight with the earth. I landed in a dumb way but it looks worse than it is. How’s London?
Charlie replied with an image of rain splattered on a window. Nick snorted softly to himself, and saw the ellipsis pop up. He waited to read, It can rain as much as it wants. I’ll be inside music emoji
What day specifically is your birthday?
27th. When’s yours?
Sept. 4th
A summer baby!
Barely haha school always starts around my birthday :(
He finished his part of the soup ingredients and waited for it to simmer until dinner time. Charlie’s messages stopped for periods of time, but Nick understood he was busy. He woke up to a short video clip, of all things, and the message, A little graphic.
Nick tapped on the clip and watched Charlie situate a plate of food and Belle in front of his phone camera. He pinched up the scruff of her fur and slotted a small needle into it before holding a syringe plunger with his thumb. Belle glanced at him, but he rubbed a finger against her side and she went back to eating. His thumb slowly descended until he carefully scooped her up to show the lump of fluids on her nape. Nick could also see how the needle rested between her shoulder blades. Charlie’s hand approached the camera to tap the screen, and the clip ended.
Nick watched it again, mostly just to watch Charlie instead of what he was doing. His curls were fluffy from sleep and he blinked groggily. But his hands moved confidently, the needle and cat making them appear large. Nick had never appreciated a man’s hands before, at least not consciously, but he liked them now. He also liked Charlie’s oversized t-shirt that he must have slept in. His shoulders were slender but he looked soft and huggable.
Nick typed, You’re so good at that. I love how she trusts you.
She trusts a plate of meat.
Whatever works.
You can meet her sometime. I don’t want her to be a little asshole so I’m trying to socialize her.
Nick smiled at his phone. Charlie was inviting him! Somewhere! Sometime! He typed, She’ll probably still be an asshole but it’s allowed. She’s adorable. I’d love to meet her.
“Nicky?” his mother called from downstairs. “Are you awake?”
He rushed out of bed to get ready for school.
* * *
Nick tapped on Charlie’s Instagram stories. His rugby game at the end of the week had gone long and he finally collapsed on his bed after dinner and a shower. No messages from Charlie, but it made sense with the orchestra tonight.
Charlie’s first post was a selfie in a tall mirror with Michael behind him holding up a peace sign. Charlie wrote over it, Birthday fits. New coat :)))
The new garment fell to his knees in a lovely deep blue. Nick knew it would be almost black in low lighting. Charlie looked handsome and grown up in it.
The next image came from the phone being held close to Charlie’s chest. He and his sister looked down at the camera in a brightly lit Underground station. Nick couldn’t help but marvel at how they were very visibly related, but his curls contrasted her straight bob. Charlie had changed back to his hoops. Travel during rush hour was a terrible idea.
The third image was blurry due to Charlie walking down the London street. It was dark out but the shop lights around him illuminated his smile and excitement. He’d captioned, Link noises!! Gahh!!
The final post resembled the first, in dimmer lighting. Nick guessed Charlie sat in the concert hall. It was a closeup of Charlie’s face with his eyes closed but his cheeks dusted with a new shine. I cried the whole time. 12/10.
Nick reacted to it with a heart emoji, but waited until his lie-in the next morning to message, Happy birthday!
Charlie replied later in the day, Thank you x.
Nick had never really used the tagged-in tab of a person’s profile before, but he ventured over to it while he and Sarah waited for a take-away to arrive for dinner. The most recent post was the back of Charlie as he stood in a kitchen. The profile was public. Someone named Isaac, who captioned, Making me dinner :).
Nick looked at the small collection of comments, receiving a slow introduction to Charlie’s friends:
Someone named Elle replied first, I can’t believe you made him cook on his birthday.
Isaac, He offered!
Charlie also commented, Creep <3.
Nick perused Isaac and Elle’s accounts. The first was an avid book reader. His page might as well have been a book club, apart from the occasional personal life events. As for Elle, she was a profound painter who seemed to be living in Berlin, though she made frequent trips around Europe.
A plot twist occurred when Charlie added two posts. The first was a collection of his stories from the previous evening, and the second was him standing with Elle. His arms held her waist as they stood cheek to cheek. She grinned with her arms around his shoulders while he held his eyes shut, blissful.
She traveled for me, he captioned, with a row of heart emojis.
The top comment was from someone named Tao. Why don’t I get a post???
Charlie posted a picture of Tao, blurry and mid-scream, with Belle jumping in the air at him. Tao’s here too.
Nick couldn’t help but Like the posts, otherwise leaving Charlie alone to enjoy his birthday finale.
* * *
Nick expected to have to wheedle his way into learning Charlie’s address slowly. He did not expect to be on a walk with Nellie and to stroll right past Charlie’s car parked on the street. Nick backpedaled and even found a cardigan on the driver’s seat like it had been thrown off before Charlie got out. Nick looked around, surveying each house’s façade but having no other clues as to which one could be Charlie’s.
He opened Instagram and messaged, I don’t mean to be a stalker, but I think I just walked past your car?? Nellie and I will be in the park if you want to hang out.
Nick walked into the park and sat on a bench. Nellie jumped up to join him, her nose tilting up to scent the air. An Instagram notification came in, and he read, Can I bring Belle to your house to meet Nellie? You have those French doors so they could meet through the glass.
Nick stood right back up to head in the direction of home. “Nellie, come.”
He typed while he walked, Yeah! Do you want help?
No. I need a few minutes anyway.
Nick wanted to pry, but he didn’t, and he took Nellie home to prepare for a cat encounter. He had no idea how to prepare for a cat. He threw open a few blankets to protect the couch and moved things that could be knocked over. He filled up crevasses under furniture where she might hide and be difficult to extract.
His and Nellie’s heads jerked up with the doorbell ringing. “Nellie!” he rushed, guiding her outside by her collar since she would otherwise go to the front door. Nick jogged across his house and opened it to greet Charlie, who stood with his arms full with a soft-shelled cat carrier. “Hi.”
“Hi. Sorry to barge in like this.”
“You’re not,” Nick moved aside, intrigued by Charlie coming right in this time. “Will she have to interact with dogs much?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said as he blindly toed off his shoes. He then carried the case all the way through the kitchen to the living room, which could be closed off with the glass-paned French doors. “But Nellie is sweet and old. I thought she’d be a good introduction.”
“She’s not old,” Nick rankled. “She’s middle aged.”
Charlie smiled over his shoulder at him, but a remarkably loud meow made him focus on setting the carrier down on the living room floor. “All right, all right.”
Nick shut the French doors behind him and knelt down beside Charlie. “I’ve never really met a cat, either.”
“They’re sharp, but very sweet. And a wagging tail does not mean the same thing as it does with a dog.”
Nick laughed nervously, “Okay,” and sat back while Charlie unzipped the carrier.
The panel fell open onto the floor and Charlie folded himself over his knees, smiling in anticipation. “Hellooo…a new place. Wow.”
Belle projected her head into the opening of her cave and moved it all around like a bird capturing every angle she could. She looked at Nick but the noise of Nellie outside seemed to be more concerning than him. Nick asked, “Does she travel well with going back and forth from London?”
“She does,” Charlie squinted up at him in the afternoon light cutting into the room. “It’s been really helpful so she doesn’t automatically assume V.E.T. every time we go somewhere.”
Nick smirked at the spelling and slowly offered his fingertips on the carrier panel for her to sniff. To his impressed surprise, she walked right out to smell him, and then walked away, interested in other things. “Wow, she doesn’t care at all.”
“The vet technicians said she would be more adventurous while she’s young, so that’s the best time to show her everything from hoovers to dogs.” Charlie sat up and dragged off his beanie. He tossed it onto the couch—Belle chased it up with a smooth jump. She sniffed it briefly and then walked over the couch, much preferring the higher ground.
Nick looked Charlie over and appreciated another day’s colourful ensemble. They both wore just regular clothes today, finally. Before the silence went on for too long, he asked, “Does she play fetch?”
Charlie planted his palms behind him to slouch. “She plays chase. Uh, very catch and kill. The fetching part isn’t really clicking.”
“She is used to surviving,” Nick sympathized. “She likes to keep what she catches. She’s bigger than I remember.”
Charlie’s head swiveled around with a proud smile. “She’s gained weight.”
“She’s like a proper cat now,” Nick congratulated. However, with Charlie’s sigh through his nose, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Charlie swung his head to gesture outside, for the reason he’d taken longer to get here. “I had to schedule her spay surgery today. I’m stressed about it.”
“Is it too soon for that?”
“They said if she’s at the right weight, they can do it, but they won’t if she goes into heat. Which, I don’t want to experience. I’m trying to bring her weight up before that happens. No rugby today?”
Nick blinked at the subject change. “We have Wednesdays off, usually. When’s the surgery?”
“May twentieth.”
“Oh, you have loads of time to get her ready.”
Charlie looked at him like he admired Nick’s faith in the whole thing. Aloud, he said, “Do you want to let Nellie in? Just into the kitchen so Belle can see her.”
“Sure,” Nick stood up. He shut the doors behind him and opened the back door for Nellie to trot in, immediately bowing over the floor to smell a trail to the living room. She stopped and looked at Nick expectantly. He laughed, “I’m sorry, you’re banned for the hour. We have a guest.”
It took Nellie longer to notice the cat staring at her from her perch on top of the couch. While the standoff happened, Nick asked through the glass, “Do you want a drink?”
“I’d love one, thank you,” Charlie answered in an odd tone Nick couldn’t read.
He handed a glass of water through the doors first, Nellie held back by his leg, and then followed it inside. Nellie whined but Nick remained resolute while Charlie offered a sympathetic sound. The latter sank slowly onto the floor while he drank, and Nick sat at the coffee table while he watched Belle’s tail swish back and forth with strong whap! sounds on the couch cushions. “Is that what you meant by her tail wagging?”
Charlie gulped and confirmed, “Yeah. She’ll be posturing soon, once she’s really certain she won’t be bothered in here.”
“What does she do at your place?”
“My dad’s allergic, so she has to stay in my room. My mum sneaks in to see her, though.”
“That’s nice. How is she at night?”
“The first week was hard,” he admitted. “It’s not her fault; she’s trapped alone for hours at a time. A side effect I wasn’t expecting is that, the more people she meets and more places she visits, she is aware. She doesn’t want to be in my old room anymore. I’ve started to play with her in my sister’s so that it might designate mine as the sleep zone.”
“How’s that going?”
“If I come home late enough, she’s fine. It’s like she knows I’m exhausted. But if I come home too early, she’s a terror.”
They both stopped at Belle jumping off the couch. Nick followed Charlie in crawling over the floor to see around the furniture at her standing at the doors, hackles raised. Nellie just stared at her like an odd but interesting thing. Nick laughed and quickly reached for his phone on the coffee table. He took a picture as he said, “She looks like a Halloween kitty like that.”
“Posturing,” Charlie repeated fondly. He looked back at Nick, and a ripple of heat seared up Nick’s skin as he realized how close they were. Charlie pivoted to sit again on his rear and asked, “Have you had a good week?”
Nick sat where he was, not wanting distance between them, and shrugged. “It’s been normal.”
“Is normal good?” Charlie asked while holding onto his ankle.
“I don’t know…sometimes. I don’t think my normal suits me anymore.”
Charlie gazed at him, his eyes moving in little micro flicks over Nick’s face. “What d’you mean?”
Nick’s shoulders rose and fell with his deep breath. “I dunno. It’s just felt like I’ve been going through the motions without realizing it. Maybe for a long time. Now I have to sit through class when I’d rather be somewhere else.”
Charlie smiled. “I think that’s pretty normal.”
“Is it?”
Charlie nodded in an assured, consoling way. Not in an entitled manner because he was older. “Spring fever mixed with getting older really makes you see the cage that school can be sometimes.”
Nick hummed an acknowledging sound, chewing on his lip. Charlie stayed quiet. Nick’s eyes peeked at him and found him waiting for whatever he wanted to say. Nick braved, “I think working at the hotel has helped too.”
Charlie’s eyes widened a little. “Oh?”
Nick smiled nervously and challenged, “Do you want me to just say it?”
Charlie’s shoulders hitched up to his ears. He tried to say gently, “I don’t want to get your hopes up.”
“Why?” Nick said too fast. His stomach started to sink. “You don’t…like me back?”
Charlie has a thing he does, Nick was discovering. Charlie gazed at him while his thoughts sorted, or his mouth tried to filter it all into a statement. Or whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t sure Nick should hear it. Nick’s impatience made him blurt quietly, “Just say it. Please.”
Charlie shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t like you. Obviously.”
“Obviously?”
Charlie’s eyes clamped shut and he caught his face in his hands. “Nick. I blew you in my car.”
Nick’s temperature skyrocketed up his chest, throat, all the way up to his hair. In the moment of mutual embarrassment, his brain rolled through possible responses. I liked it seemed dumb and obvious. I want to do it again seemed pushy and ungrateful for Charlie’s company at all. And really, it wasn’t the main thought that kept revisiting him like a ghost.
“We haven’t kissed in over a week.”
Charlie lifted his eyes over his fingertips, a smile there even if Nick couldn’t see all of him. Still, he finished, “I don’t want to get your hopes up about me.”
“I still don’t know what that means.”
“We’re both busy,” he navigated, his hands lowering back to his lap. “And I’ll be an hour away, give or take, soon.”
“If you’re trying to gently convince me not to like you, I’d rather you just told me to stop because you’re not interested.”
“I can’t do that,” Charlie said quietly, his eyes drifting down and elsewhere. But they lifted back up to Nick as he added, “I’m not very good at lying.”
The trapeze artist in Nick’s stomach did her tricks while he licked his lips. “Why can’t we have this month together? We can have more—you’re not leaving right at June first.”
Charlie pursed his lips from left to right. “True. But…wouldn’t you want someone you can see every day?”
“I want the one I want to see,” he said, because it was true. It was the truest thing he felt like he’d ever known. “Is that okay?”
Charlie’s face transformed in an instant, and just as quickly clammed as if to hide it all. Hide the way Nick asking permission affected him. He pressed his lips together and nodded slightly, jerkily. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
Nick leaned into his space. “I want to kiss you.”
Charlie’s lips relaxed, and parted. His eyes caressed down Nick’s face, following the bridge of his nose before tilting his head and aligning himself for a long press of a kiss. Nick inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of Charlie’s skin, and whatever he used in his hair. In his micro adjustments to be more comfortable, to be closer, their lips rocked together in a way that made Charlie’s sigh from his nose rush over Nick’s cheek. It was everything Nick wanted, right until he opened his mouth for a second kiss, for more, and Charlie’s lips tickled his with, “Your mum’s home.”
Nick sat very still, listening. He didn’t hear the front door. “How do you know?”
Charlie’s eyes stared far away, but he wobbled a hand in the air. “Resonance—excuse me.”
They both heard the trickle of water as Belle stuffed her head into his glass to lap at his water. Charlie breathed, “Oh my god,” as he reached for her and the glass, delicately prying the two apart before she got stuck and drowned herself.
Then, Nick saw Nellie walk by the French doors, tail swishing. He took Charlie’s glass and said, “I’ll get you a new one. And a bowl?”
“Thanks,” he huffed a laugh. “Honestly, just a small cup for her is fine. I can’t stay long.”
“Are you sure?” he worried.
Charlie did not get the chance to answer, as Sarah called, “Nicky, I’m home! Is Charlie here?”
Nick set the cup on the island counter and met her halfway. “He is. He brought the cat over.”
“Did he? Is Nellie behaving herself?” she asked before she arrived at the kitchen table.
Setting her bags on it, she saw Charlie through the doors, clutching Belle to his torso while he waved. His muffled voice greeted, “Hi, Sarah.”
“Oh, what a darling. Hello, Charlie, are you cold?”
Nick looked up from filling a new cup. Charlie still wore his coat. “He only just got here.”
“I’m okay,” Charlie answered, himself, and opened one of the doors to reach an arm through it. Nick gave him the glass, for which he said, “Thank you.”
Nick followed him through, only pausing when Sarah said, “I’m feeding Nellie, and then I’ll be in to see the little one.”
Charlie tactfully sipped from the cup and set it down. Wanting prestigious human water, Belle gradually hunkered down more and more as she drank. Nick marveled, “Does she still need the injections if she’s drinking on her own?”
“This is a new development,” Charlie revealed. “I think, between wanting my food and seeing Nellie drink, she’s finally connected the dots. I actually brought the materials if you wanted to try giving her fluids.”
Nick’s features shocked open. “The…butterfly needle?”
Charlie nodded but also shook his head as he assured, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. She’ll get them as soon as I’m home, either way.”
Nick didn’t want Charlie to leave yet. A part of his brain sat back in stupefaction, watching himself agree, “Okay. If you walk me through it.”
“Let me get a dish first.” Charlie stood up and poked his head through the doors to ask Sarah for a small plate. From the cat carrier pockets, he extracted a bag of medical materials and a sachet of food. Belle immediately knew what the sachet was, and Charlie’s hands failed to bob and weave away from her. “Okay. Okay. Okay, madam, please.”
Nick scooped his hands underneath her belly and pinned her against his chest. They both looked surprised and uncomfortable for it. Charlie laughed and quickly emptied the sachet onto the plate. By this point, Sarah slipped into the room, and the cat could not care less. Nick hissed an, “Ow,” at the claws in his hands before he released her to have her dinner.
Sarah waved him out. “Wash your hands, love, or those spots will itch.”
A good idea, either way, with Charlie readying a syringe, of all things. When Nick came back, Charlie looked up at him. “Ready?”
“I guess. What do I do?”
Charlie held up the butterfly needle, still safe inside its sterile cap, on the end of a long tube connecting to the syringe. The tube length and flexibility would let Belle move around without disrupting the flow or ripping the needle out. “You just pinch her scruff and insert the needle under her skin, parallel to her body. Then you slowly push the plunger down until it’s empty. Easy. You can’t mess this up.”
Nick’s cheeks inflated with his contradictory thoughts. Without taking the needle, he experimented with feeling Belle’s scruff while she ate. He already knew how her skinny body felt from holding her, but her bones were so different from Nellie’s. He pointed a finger in gesture, “Just…in there?”
“Yep. I can do that part,” Charlie offered.
“I can’t help but feel like there’s something obvious you’re leaving out and I’ll get this wrong.”
Charlie shook his head. “You’re not aiming for a vein. It’s a bullseye without any rings.”
Nick exhaled heavily and steeled himself. “Okay.”
Charlie removed the cap for him and pressed the plunger down so the fluid pushed all the air out of the tube. A droplet slid down the needle as he handed it to Nick, and he…did it. He lifted Belle’s scruff, and the needle vanished under her fur. Nick had been on the receiving end of jabs plenty of times, and the way it disappeared always mystified him.
Belle moved, undoubtedly feeling something, but only glancing back at him before returning to her meal. Nick’s hands hovered over her, not wanting to hurt her. Charlie offered him the tube of fluids, and Nick asked, “Slowly?”
“Yeah. Just take your time. You’re not blowing bubbles.”
Nick blurted a vocal sound when his thumb pressed the plunger all at once. Charlie apologized, “It always gets stuck right at the start. You’re fine.”
“You have way too much faith in me.”
Sarah sat on the couch above them, so her voice drifted down like a silk interjection. “Just the right amount, I think.”
Nick licked his lips and began again. Slowly pushing the plunger down, he took so long that Belle had finished her food and sat up licking her mouth by the time he finished. He looked at the empty component in his hand. “Now what?”
Charlie pulled on the tubing and chimed a small, “Boop,” as the needle came free. He capped it and corrected, “Don’t remove it like that, though. You should hold it the same way you put it in.”
Sarah rubbed her son’s back. He looked back at her and leaned back against the couch. “How’s your first taste of veterinary work?”
“It’s not for me,” he declared. Charlie chuckled and put his things back in the carrier. As for Belle, she leaned over the coffee table to smell Sarah’s legs. She even stepped her front paws on her to sniff her hands before retreating to walk across the table towards Charlie. He lifted his face, scrunched shut to avoid a mouthful of hair as she slid against him. It was while he opened a treat packet and set one on the table for her to eat that Nick asked, “I thought you got a new coat for your birthday?”
“I did. I left it in London. I’ve had this one for ages,” he said with a quick hand petting the green fabric. “I keep waiting for the day a storm or a drive-by puddle spray finally destroys it, but it keeps going. I can wash these before I leave.”
Sarah refused, “I’ll take those, dear. If you’re heading out, I’ll walk with you.”
Nick took the dishes to the kitchen sink and Charlie enclosed Belle inside her carrier. Nellie sniffed an eager lap around the living room while Charlie and Sarah walked to the front door. As he pulled his shoes on, Sarah asked, “How far away is home for you?”
“Not far. Just on the other side of the park. Oop,” he blurted as Nellie came with Nick across the house. Charlie heaved the carrier up into his arms, car keys jangling in his hand.
Sarah asked, “Are you on the narrow side? I mean the houses that are tall and go back instead of our wider house.”
“Yeah, why?”
“I always like walking Nellie on that side during the day, when the cars are gone.”
Charlie understood, “Yeah, our driveway is too skinny for me to share it with my parents. And my mum won’t give up the tilework.”
Sarah’s chin turned, catching on that. “Tilework…is yours the house with the checkered tile?”
Caught, Charlie smiled guiltily. “Yes?”
Sarah grasped his shoulder. “With the stained glass in the door! Oh, I love walking by your house.”
Charlie closed his eyes, coughing a laugh. “My mum will love that.”
Sarah opened the door for him, and said to Nick, “Stay warm,” for him to not follow outside. He frowned, watching in perplexity as Sarah went to Charlie’s car to open the backseat door as well. In due course, Charlie was ready to leave, and waved to him over his car. Nick waved back, and Charlie sank into his seat to reverse out onto the road and drove home.
Nellie bumped into his legs as they walked back to the living room. He sighed quietly to himself as Sarah asked, “Have you eaten?”
“No, not yet,” he said, pulling off the blankets protecting the couch to put in the washing machine—
Charlie’s beanie fell on the floor. Nick paused and then lurched to pick it up. He almost turned to say something, but stopped himself.
Charlie left his beanie.
House on the narrow side. Checkered tile and stained glass in the door.
“I have to leave early tomorrow,” Sarah was saying, “so I’ll make us breakfast for dinner and you can reheat the leftovers in the morning. Does that sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Nick agreed, leaving to take the beanie up to his room.