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At home that night, Nick sat in the kitchen with Nellie in his lap, taking comfort in her soft fur and uncomplicated love, scrolling through his Insta. There he was, pictured in Imogen's post, with comments from their mates about what a cute couple they made. Nick didn't think it was a particularly great picture—definitely not as good as the ones he'd taken of him and Charlie in the snow.

Beneath Imogen's Insta post was a photo of Charlie, posing with a girl Nick vaguely recognized.

Well, that was coincidental, wasn't it, those two pictures next to each other?

His mum came home, and Nellie jumped off his lap to go welcome her. "Had a good day, Nicky?" she asked as she came into the kitchen with the shopping over her arm.

He had not, but he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it. "Mmm."

"What's up?"

Nick decided he could at least tell her the part about Imogen. Maybe she'd know what he should do. He put his phone down and began. "I said I'd go on a date with this girl, but I kind of also agreed to go to Charlie's birthday party on the same day."

"Oh, do you like this girl?" his mum asked.

"Well, um … Her dog died."

She frowned. "Uh, not following."

Nick supposed that was kind of out of the blue. He tried to explain. "She was really upset, and I felt bad. And she asked me out, and I didn't know how to say no. And I tried to tell her we probably shouldn't go out, and I couldn't. Because I didn't want to upset her when she was already crying about her dog."

"Oh, okay."

"I mean …" Now that he had started talking to his mum, he wanted to tell her all of it. Or, well, a lot of it. "A lot of people are expecting us to get together, but I don't think I like her like that."

"No, you shouldn't go out with someone because you feel sorry for them."

"Yeah." She was right. He needed to find some way to let Imogen down without making things worse. If he could only figure out how.

His mum turned toward the cupboard, saying, "Don't worry. The right girl will come along, just you wait."

He should tell her. He should tell her right now what was going on with him and Charlie, how confused he was, how much he wanted just to know one way or another … but if he didn't understand himself, how could he expect her to accept him for whatever he was?

So he didn't say anything.

Over dinner, he kept going back to the idea of Charlie's birthday, and what he should get him as a present. He had a lot of work this week, plus rugby and a dentist appointment, and really no time to go out and shop for anything suitable.

"What are you thinking of, Nicky? You look so serious."

"Oh. Do I?" He smiled across the table at his mum. "I was just thinking about what to get Charlie for his birthday. I don't know when I could go out to buy anything."

She frowned thoughtfully. "No, there isn't much time this week, is there? What does he like?"

"Um … Books. Music. But you never know what someone already has, and a book is kind of a boring present."

"I like them." Nick's mum smiled. "But I see what you mean. Well, what do the two of you do together?"

Nick immediately thought of kissing Charlie, and he nearly choked on his water. When he could breathe again, he said, "Well, MarioKart. He beats me literally every time. And—and you know what was a great day? That day he came over and it snowed." He smiled at the memory. That had been such an amazing day. The day he and Charlie had really become friends. Suddenly Nick remembered reaching out to touch Charlie's hair when he first arrived, fluffing it with his fingers when snow landed in those wild dark curls. Was it possible that he had liked Charlie even then, all the way back at the start, without realising it? Was that the day they started becoming—them? Warmth filled him, and he smiled wider, thinking about it. That had been probably the best day he'd ever had.

Maybe that was it. He had all those really nice selfies of him and Charlie from that day. "Do you know if we have any picture frames?"

"Yeah, we should have some. Check the cupboard in the hall, I think I put a few in there at some point."

"Thanks, Mum." He got up and went around the table and hugged her.

"Happy I could help." She put her arms around him and held on to him tightly. Nick thought again about telling her about Charlie, about … everything, but—if she didn't understand, if she didn't take him seriously … No. He couldn't risk it.

After dinner, he dug through the cupboard and did indeed find a picture frame. It was plain black, which was kind of boring, but he could do something about that. It would be handmade, but he didn't think Charlie would mind.

Scrolling back through the pictures, Nick couldn't help but smile. It was hard to remember what his life had been like before he met Charlie … and, despite all the confusion and everything, he really didn't want to.

Charlie came over to Nick's the next afternoon. Both of them had books to read and reports to write, with looming due dates, so it was a heavy study day. They sat on the floor of Nick's room, side by side, leaning against his bed.

They were both reading for a while, but eventually Nick realised that Charlie wasn't reading anymore. He was huddled against Nick's side, his knees jackknifed against his chest. He looked like he was really cold.

Nick nudged him gently. "Hey. You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You are not. You look like you're freezing."

"It is pretty chilly in here."

Nick would have said it wasn't, but he was never a good judge of these things. "Hang on." He sat up, tugging off his jumper, and handed it to Charlie.

"But now you'll be cold."

"No, I don't get cold that much."

Without any further argument, Charlie took the jumper and pulled it on over his head. He was absolutely adorable in it, and Nick wished very much that he had time to stop and kiss him, but given the imminent due date for the book reports, they had agreed there would be none of that today. A hasty decision Nick was very much regretting right now. "Better?"

"Yeah. You don't mind?"

"Not at all. You look sort of cute in my jumper." 'Sort of cute' was a mild term for how adorable Charlie looked.

Charlie blushed and ducked his head, and Nick managed to tear his eyes away and go back to his book, although he suspected he wasn't going to retain nearly enough to do a decent report. Charlie was a good study partner when he could help Nick make sense of his work, but a highly distracting one otherwise.

Nick had only gotten through a few more pages when Charlie suddenly laid his head down on Nick's lap.

Concerned, he said, "Charlie. You all right?"

Half-turning his head so he could look up at Nick, Charlie nodded. "Yeah. Just so sleepy for some reason. Do you mind?"

"No. Here." Nick reached up and tugged his comforter off his bed, pulling it up over Charlie. "There."

With his free hand, he stroked Charlie's hair, threading his fingers lightly through it. He always wanted to do that and never thought Charlie would let him. But there were no protests, so he kept on letting the soft curls wrap themselves around his fingers even as Charlie's deep, even breathing told him he was asleep.

It was remarkably peaceful and lovely to be sitting here in his bedroom, reading his book, combing his fingers through Charlie's hair as he slept. This might have to be added to the list of best days ever that Nick kept in his head—an increasing number of which involved Charlie.

He was almost sorry when Charlie's phone alarm went off and he had to wake him. "Hey," he said gently, calling his name. "Time for you to go home."

Sitting up, Charlie blinked sleepily. "You must be so uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Did your legs fall asleep?"

Nick smiled. "No, it's fine. But you still look so tired—are you okay to go home? Do you want me to walk you?"

"Oh, no. You don't have to."

"I know I don't have to. But I'm offering, if you want me to."

He waited for Charlie to say no again, and was surprised when he nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Of course."

They were halfway home when Nick realised Charlie was still wearing his jumper. He didn't want to ask for it back. He wanted to think about Charlie wearing it home, to know that Charlie had something of Nick's, something tangible that kept them connected.

They stopped a few houses before Charlie's, and Nick reached for his hand. "You're really okay? I've never seen you fall asleep that hard in the middle of the afternoon."

"No, I'm fine. Just sometimes the week catches up to me." Squeezing Nick's hand, he said, "Really, I'm okay."

"All right." Nick leaned forward and kissed him. "Good-night."

"Good-night." Charlie went into his house and shut the door.

On his way home, Nick texted him. "Don't think I didn't notice."

"?"

"You're still wearing my jumper."

"oh. do you want it back?"

"Not right now."

"good. i like it."

Nick sent him a heart-eyes emoji, and walked the rest of the way home smiling.