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Charlie Spring had a past. But then again, didn't most people? He had spent his 20’s in and out of many beds and bathhouses and clubs and club bathrooms and alleyways behind clubs and, well, you get the picture. The point was, he knew his way around dick and knew how to appreciate good dick when he had it.
And he did now. In abundance. Three months ago he had met Nick while tripping over his own two feet and spilling hot coffee down the front of his shirt.
Imagine, all the apps in all the world (all of which he was on) and he literally stumbled across his dream boyfriend 20 metres from his flat.
Before Nick there had been plenty of – well, regulars made it sound like a business and he was throwing it out there for free, so maybe instead he should call them repeat visitors. Nothing really serious. He was popular enough that he could afford to be choosy, and he had a preferred type, too: tall, wide, able to throw him around a bit.
Nick Nelson was as if the gay gods had taken Charlie's past, thrown them all into a blender, and made the perfect pairing of all his favorite things.
The men of his past who contributed to his dream boyfriend were, in part, the rugby players that came into town now and then. He still had a few wanks each month remembering what it felt like to be in a Klaus/Scottie sandwich. Every man on that team could throw him around and came with thighs the size of small tree trunks, and his knees melted at the thought of it.
Not to mention Papa, the hot as fuck french daddy who called him up every time he was in town on business. Steph would channel his anger at his ex-wife by railing Charlie up against the wall some weekends, growling French phrases in his ear, and yet other weekends he wanted to be tied down and topped, usually ending the night in tears during aftercare. It was some sort of twisted family therapy for Steph, and Charlie was a very, very willing participant in it.
And yet somehow this golden retriever primary school teacher – who he literally tripped and fell into like some kind of fucking storybook romance novel, with sparkling eyes and a soft heart and a hard, perfect dick – had wiped his entire social calendar free. No one else compared.
Nick Nelson had thighs and an arse that rivaled every rugby player he'd fucked and every rugby player who had fucked him, and he even spoke French like his the tall, thick Papa who still called him on a regular basis. These days, he just let those calls go to voicemail.
Hell, Nick even had daddy issues so the hot fucking-as-family therapy sessions were still a thing. And he was pretty sure they would be a thing tonight because Nick Nelson was taking him to meet his parents. His dad was in town, and every time Nick's dad was in town there was some sort of hot, angry sex after, and if Charlie could help him get over the prick with his own prick or get over the asshole with his own asshole, he was more than game.
Nick and Charlie's phones each buzzed at the same time.
Charlie looked down at his:
Papa 🇫🇷: You free tonight? I'm available any time after 9. Got a family thing, could use some help working it out after.
Charlie bit his lip. He hadn't seen Steph since he started dating Nick, but he wondered what Nick's thoughts on adding a third were. Probably not the time to ask. He looked over at Nick who was also chewing his lip, although more in a worried than a hot way.
“What's going on?”
“Oh, just my brother texting. My asshole dad decided to actually show up, so tonight should be interesting.”
Nick looked over at Charlie with his honey-brown eyes and pulled him forward giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Thanks for coming with me,” he said softly.
Charlie just smiled and squeezed Nick's arm. Nick needed him tonight – clearly not the night to ask about a third, but maybe he and Nick could check out when the rugby team was in town next. Maybe he would be open to a third and a fourth…