How Do I Love Thee?

Let Me Count The Ways

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39357081.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Heartstopper (Webcomic), Heartstopper (TV)
Relationship: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring
Character: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper)
Additional Tags: Nick loves Charlie a lot, he could make a whole slide show, (this fic
does not contain slide shows), it does contain freckles and giggling and
healthy communication, we love to see it
Series: Part 2 of The Confidence You Bloom
Stats: Published: 2022-06-01 Words: 2783

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways

by writeitininkorinblood

Summary

Nick's not willing to sit idly by and let Charlie believe that he finds him anything other than
incredibly attractive, in every way.

Notes

Technically a sequel to another fic of mine [https://archiveofourown.org/works/39247689]

but I don't think it's matters too much if you haven't read it.

This is just Charlie being soft and giggly while Nick counts the ways he loves him,
basically.

As always, my apologies for what you are about to read.

CW: negative self-image

See the end of the work for more notes

Charlie hoped it wasn’t going to come up. Nick was usually easy to distract and Charlie had gotten
very good at learning what specific distractions worked best, so maybe they could just spend a nice
evening together and ignore the fact Tao had suggested Charlie didn’t think his boyfriend was
attracted to him. There was no way for that conversation not to be awkward and uncomfortable,
and Charlie didn’t want that.
They made it through the journey back to Nick’s, changing into comfortable clothes, throwing
balls for Nellie in the back garden, and dinner and Nick didn’t say a word on the topic. Charlie’s
cautious optimism grew and he let himself relax. They could deal with it another day. Or never.
Never worked, too.

But Charlie was not that lucky.

Nick cornered him when he least expected it. They were settling down to watch a film in the
lounge, the house to themselves until Nick’s mum came back from a day out with friends, when
Charlie was caught unawares. He’d been going to turn on the TV when Nick reached out to catch
his wrist, tugging him down to the sofa. Charlie was more than happy to fall against his boyfriend,
settling with his knees either side of Nick’s thighs and enthusiastically accepting a kiss. The film
could wait a few minutes. But then Nick pushed him gently back and ruined the moment.

“Can we talk about what Tao said at lunch?” he asked, running his palms up Charlie’s arms in a
way that walked a shaky line between comforting and arousing.

Charlie didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to dwell on how inadequate he felt, how much he
wished he could be a better fit for Nick. His relationship with his rugby-playing, gym-going,
perfectly sculpted boyfriend was something Charlie’s imagination would’ve struggled to conjure
up in its complete impossibility if it wasn’t real. Nick’s body reminded Charlie of the nude Roman
and Greek statues he used to stare at—and okay, sue him, sometimes still stared at—in museums.
But Nick was even better. While the stone bodies that once helped him understand what it was he
was feeling, and who he was feeling it for, were cold marble, Nick was warm and responsive and
all freckled skin beneath his fingers. How could Charlie possibly compare to something like that,
as broken and scarred and small as he was.

“It’s fine,” Charlie insisted, hoping they could just kiss. They couldn’t kiss and talk at the same
time. He tried it for a moment, brushing his lips over Nick’s, but only got a quick peck back before
Nick pulled away.

“It’s not fine,” Nick said, making eye contact Charlie really wished he wouldn’t and tucking one of
his dark curls behind his ear. “And you’re not allowed to distract me from this. You don’t think
I’m attracted to you?”

It took Charlie a few moments to think through an answer, but Nick just sat patiently, waiting with
concern softening his features. Charlie went through every option that didn’t involve talking about
this – kissing was apparently going to get him nowhere, which was usually his failsafe distraction
technique. He considered just making a run for it, but this was Nick’s house so it wasn’t like there
was anywhere he could actually run to. Besides, Nick had good reflexes and Charlie was already in
his lap. The chance of him even making it to his feet before Nick could tighten his grip was
practically zero. Unless an act of god wanted to put him out of his misery, this conversation was
going to happen. He was going to add the lack of sudden tsunami to the list of reasons he had no
time for prayers.

Nick’s insistent, lovely, overwhelming eyes were still carefully fixed on Charlie’s, and he knew he
couldn’t get the words out like that. If Nick wasn’t going to look away, Charlie was going to have
to improvise. Shutting his eyes so tightly it hurt, he forced out the answer to Nick’s question as
honestly as he could.

“I… I know you tell me I’m attractive and that you love me and…” He had to stop and take a
shaky breath, hating how vulnerable the moment felt. But he’d been working on feeling worthy of
love. He could do this. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe but you’re nothing if not persistent,
so yes. I believe, aesthetically, you’re attracted to me.”
Charlie flinched at the sudden contact of Nick’s fingers on his cheeks, opening his eyes to see his
boyfriend’s face caught between affection and worry. Nick’s thumbs traced his cheekbones, gentle
circles that made Charlie shiver.

“You’re gorgeous,” Nick insisted. “Every time I see you, you take my breath away all over again.
But you think that’s all this is?”

Shifting awkwardly, Charlie wished they were having this conversation sat further away. He could
feel the warmth of Nick’s body through his jeans and it was clearly more distracting for him than it
was for Nick.

“Well there’s not really anything about me worth… wanting,” Charlie mumbled, eyes downcast.

“Hey!” Nick protested.

When Charlie looked back up, Nick was biting at the inside of his lip, considering something. He
wrapped one arm around Charlie’s waist, his thumb dipping under the edge of his jumper to hook
onto the belt loops of his jeans. With his spare hand, he laced his fingers with Charlie’s.

“I don’t know how much you want me to say here because I don’t want to make you
uncomfortable,” Nick said, his voice low and indulgent. “Stop me if you want but god, you have no
idea the things you do to me.”

Charlie’s desire to run threatened to kick in again. It was so hard to hear Nick give him
compliments when it came to physical characteristics. He had to fight back the urge to argue with
him, to accuse him of lying in an attempt to quieten the voices in Charlie’s head. And Charlie
didn’t even believe that Nick was lying – it was just instinct. His brain was screaming at him that
Nick deserved better. Nick deserved someone who was actually desirable, someone society would
deem a natural fit in his arms. But Nick was here, holding him, and Charlie didn’t want to leave.
Instead he let him talk.

“I know you like to keep covered up and that’s fine by me if it’s what you need but sometimes you
curl up and there’s this little bit of skin that shows and…” Nick’s voice had gone soft, almost
reverent, as his hand already at Charlie’s waist shifted a little to find the small of his back, stroking
over soft skin.

Suddenly Charlie didn’t mind this conversation so much. There was no way he was getting to the
end of it alive if Nick kept making him feel so ridiculously lightheaded, so there were officially no
ramifications to this. He didn’t even feel self-conscious about the way his breath hitched at the
tiniest point of contact. Nick just smiled, spurred on.

“And you wear those ridiculously tight jeans and it’s like you’re trying to kill me,” he said with a
groan, dropping his forehead to rest on Charlie’s collarbone.

Nick’s hair brushed over Charlie’s skin, bared by the loose neck of his jumper, and he couldn’t
help the soft giggle that escaped his lips. He reached up to hold Nick still, threading his fingers into
the strands to stop it tickling so much. The laugh turned to a barely suppressed whimper when
Nick’s hands traced over Charlie’s hips and down to his ass, settling in his back pockets.

This was new. Charlie felt entirely overwhelmed, but in the best way. He didn’t fear losing control,
he didn’t even want to run anymore. He just wanted Nick to keep touching him, was even willing to
entertain believing everything he was saying. And Nick wasn’t even done.

“And you’re just so fucking graceful,” Nick mumbled, the words muffled against Charlie’s jumper.
“Your neck and your fingers… The one good thing about you being in a different year is that I’d
never be able to pay attention in lessons if you were there. I forget my own name in Form when
you play with your pen. Fucking miracle I answer the register correctly, most days.”

He turned his head to drag his lips along the curve of Charlie’s neck and Charlie had never felt so
giddy. Nick kept pressing open mouthed kisses against his skin and it was more intoxicating than
alcohol. Charlie didn’t know where it was going, or even where he wanted it to go, but he did have
to hold himself back from protesting when Nick sat back, moving his hands back up to Charlie’s
hips.

Nick’s cheeks were flushed red and his smile was sheepish, but the love in his eyes was so genuine
that Charlie still felt settled, even though he had nowhere to hide. He didn’t care that Nick saw
him, that Nick probably heard how needy he’d been from such simple touches. It was all okay.

“That’s just the top of the list of things I think about,” Nick explained, clearing his throat.

‘Think about when?” Charlie asked, breathless and teasing and more confident than he’d ever felt.
He wanted to be daring. He wanted to know if Nick got off to thoughts of him at night. He’d never
even considered the possibility before but from the way Nick’s blush spread quickly from freckle
to freckle, maybe he wasn’t far off.

“Oi,” Nick warned, but there was laughter behind the word. He tugged gently at one of Charlie’s
belt loops again. “Is that all… okay with you? That I think those things?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, his head still spinning. He had to swallow as soon as he got the word out,
trying not to fixate on the idea of Nick touching himself and imagining it was Charlie’s fingers. “I
trust you. I think you’re a little crazy for thinking it all in the first place. But… Thank you, for
thinking it.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being attracted to you,” Nick said with a laugh. “Believe me, it’s
my pleasure.”

They both heard the words at the same time and Charlie ducked to hide his face against Nick’s
shoulder, giggling.

“No, that’s- I didn’t-” Nick said, stumbling over his words until he abandoned the attempt entirely
with a groan.

When Charlie moved back to take in the sight of him, he looked embarrassed but happy - which
Charlie could relate to in that moment. But maybe it wasn’t fair that Nick was the only one sharing.

“Do you want me to tell you what I like about you?” Charlie asked, emboldened by the way Nick’s
fingers hadn’t stopped fidgeting at the waistband of his jeans.

“My strong rugby arms?” Nick guessed with a grin, jumping at the opportunity to tease.

“Shut up,” Charlie protested through his laughter. He knew he’d probably walked into that one. It
had been a year since he’d first made that comment and Nick still hadn’t let it go. But it was still
true. The sight of Nick in a short-sleeved shirt, or a tank top, or no top at all was all it took to
completely derail Charlie’s brain, and Nick probably deserved to know that.

“But yeah,” Charlie admitted, barely louder than a whisper. He reached out to trace down Nick’s
bicep, because that was a thing he was allowed to do. Touching his boyfriend was not only
permitted but, judging by the wide-eyed desire in Nick’s eyes, encouraged. So Charlie pushed his
fingers upwards to trail over Nick’s shoulder and down his chest. “And your shoulders. Your chest.
Your thighs in rugby shorts.” He stopped himself from running his hands across Nick’s thighs,
worried it would be too much. He was already sitting on them and that probably counted for
something. Instead, Charlie moved his thumb to trace over Nick’s jaw. “Your freckles.”

That surprised a laugh out of Nick.

“My freckles? Are freckles hot?” he asked, confused.

Charlie shrugged. He couldn’t explain it. Being close enough to see them all, to make out each
distinctive mark, just always felt so intimate.

“I want to count them. All of them,” he said simply, letting weight linger on the last few words.

“Oh,” Nick breathed, dumbstruck for a moment before he forced a shaky huff of laughter. “Might
be difficult. There’s a lot of them.”

“I’m very dedicated,” Charlie said. “I think I’ll need to count them a few times. Just to be sure I’m
accurate.”

He pressed a kiss to the one he’d been circling with his thumb, then moved down Nick’s neck,
brushing his lips arbitrarily over his skin and whispering numbers as he pretended to keep count.
Nick’s hands tightened at his waist, pulling him just a little closer as his breathing lost its rhythm
and turned stuttered and shaky. Charlie got as high as nineteen, his lips grazing the dip at the base
of Nick’s neck, before Nick stopped him.

“Charlie,” he groaned, probably an intended warning but coming out more like a call to a deity.
“My mum is going to be home in less than half an hour. Please, please don’t start something we’re
not going to have time to finish.”

As embarrassing as it was inevitably going to be, Charlie knew there was no chance of him lasting
longer than a few gasping breaths when he had Nick’s hands on him like that for the first time.
They didn’t need half an hour – five minutes would be more than enough time. But he’d pictured
their first time together plenty and it had always involved the cheesiest post-coital pillow talk and
naps and just being together that you could imagine. Rushing it wasn’t what he wanted, and it
didn’t seem like it was what Nick wanted either.

Charlie had never felt more confident. He was buzzing with the need to keep going, but Nick was
right. Stopping now was going to be so much easier than stopping in twenty five minutes just
before Mrs Nelson got home. A little disgruntled, he turned his head to burrow against Nick’s neck
rather than kiss it.

“A film, yeah? Let’s just watch a film,” Nick suggested, reminding them both of their original
plan. When Charlie whined against his skin in protest, he held him a little tighter. “I know. Trust
me, I know.”

Charlie begrudgingly untangled himself from Nick and got to his feet, grabbing the remote from
the TV stand and picking a Marvel movie from Disney+ at random. He wasn’t in the right mindset
to watch it anyway, and Nick liked all of them so it didn’t really matter. Spending time choosing
was just delaying his inevitable return to Nick’s side to cuddle up for movie time. But Nick seemed
to have other ideas when Charlie turned back around.

“Sit over there,” he ordered, a little too abrupt as he pointed at the other end of the sofa. A good
five feet away.

Charlie frowned. They always curled up next to each other during films. Even when they had Tao
 complaining they were ruining the vibe of Donnie Darko by being too cute in the corner, or Darcy
teasing them for being co-dependent. A tiny crack appeared in his new-found confidence. Had he
done something wrong?

“But-” he began, but that was as far as he got before Nick interrupted.

“Five minutes,” he said. “Just give me a second to… calm down.”

He gestured vaguely downward and Charlie’s cheeks lit up crimson. He’d done that. All he’d done
was kiss one shaky trail down Nick’s neck and it had turned Nick on.

“Oh,” Charlie said, his voice swaying too high to be casual.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Nick said. His voice was low and his eyes were dark and if Mrs Nelson wasn’t
due through the door any minute, Charlie knew they’d still be sitting much, much closer. “The
things you do to me, Char…”

And Charlie believed it. He knew most people weren’t going to share Nick’s opinions and find him
desirable, but he only cared about one person. Nick loved him. Nick wanted him. Nick fantasised
about him. Charlie felt dizzy with the knowledge, overwhelmed in the best way possible. It didn’t
magically fix anything and he knew it was still going to be a struggle to look in the mirror most
days, but if Nick was going to be there to wrap him into a hug and assure him at least one person
was attracted to him, Charlie figured that confidence he’d found might just stick around.

End Notes

You can pry the headcanon that canonical classics nerd Charlie Spring spent his sexual
awakening intrigued by nude Greek and Roman statues from my cold, dead hands.

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