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Published:
2025-07-09
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close to you...

Summary:

Nick has been going through a bit of a tough time lately.
So Tara and Darcy drag him out to a bar.
Where he sees a boy dancing.
And it changes everything...

Notes:

To say this has been a labour of love would be an understatement. I first had the idea for this one shot on consults google docs for original plot outline the 11th July last year! From pretty much the very first time I heard "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams, a version of this fic immediately sprang into my mind, but for the longest time I couldn't get it to work in my head. I knew I wanted to somehow incorporate the lyrics into the fic, I just wasn't sure how. So yeah, its taken me practically a year and an awful lot of help to get to this point!

Nikki and Phoenix - this simply would not exist without your support, guidance, enthusiasm and encouragement. What I have ended up with isn't remotely what I set out with the intention of writing, but maybe that's okay? I'm so grateful for both your friendships, more than you probably realise, love you big time! ❤️❤️

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It had been another brutal week. 

The kind that left Nick a shell of himself by Wednesday and barely clinging on by his fingernails on Friday. His seminar group had blown up over a project no one wanted to lead, he’d bombed an essay he thought he’d actually done well on, and his fridge contained nothing but a pint of milk and a rather sorrowful looking block of cheese. Somewhere along the way, he’d also ignored seven texts from Darcy, four from Tara, and a hopeful meme from Imogen that he still felt vaguely guilty about not replying to.

But the truth was, Nick just didn’t have it in him at the moment. The breakup with Noah hadn’t been messy. No cheating, no shouting, not even a dramatic argument to hang the sadness on. Just a slow, steady unraveling that found him sitting alone in his flat one Thursday afternoon, realising he was single again and not entirely surprised. 

In the weeks that followed he’d found himself withdrawing. Politely at first, turning down invitations, smiling through the guilt, texting things like Definitely soon! and Just swamped x. Then less politely, going quiet and letting his unread messages pile up like laundry. Retreating into his coursework like it was a safe house with locked doors and no windows. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his friends; he did, more than anything. But there was a strange comfort in the quiet. In being alone and not having to explain the ache that hadn’t quite dulled yet.

Still, Nick had known there was an expiry date on all that solitude. Tara and Darcy weren’t the type of friends to let him sit wallowing in his own sadness forever. Instead they were the type to knock three times and then barge in with snacks, a playlist and exactly zero regard for his personal boundaries. So when he’d sent yet another Maybe next time text that morning, he could already feel the countdown starting. And sure enough, by the evening, Darcy was raiding his wardrobe and calling everything he owned “tragic but salvageable,” while Tara gave him her patented arms folded, one eyebrow raised look, as if to say: You knew this was coming.

Which was how he found himself standing awkwardly in a bar that smelled like cheap beer and too much Lynx, already regretting about sixty-two percent of his life choices. He headed to the bar itself and ordered a pint, finding a patch of wall to lean against like it owed him something. The music thumped in his chest more than his ears; loud, repetitive and relentless. Around him, people moved like they had nowhere else to be. Laughing, shouting, swaying in the dim glow of pink, purple and blue lights, like the whole night existed in soft-focus.

Tara and Darcy were in the middle of it all, spinning each other around in their usual bubble of chaotic affection. Tara’s head was thrown back with laughter, Darcy enthusiastically mouthing the lyrics of whatever remix was playing. They were glowing in a way Nick couldn’t name: electric, loose, alive. It made something ache in his chest, but he smiled anyway, took another sip of his beer, and let himself attempt to feel a little bit glad he’d come.

And then, someone moved into his line of sight. He almost missed them at first. Just a shift in the bodies, a break in the crowd, and then there he was.

Bathed in the lilac of the overheads, caught mid-turn on the dance floor, his dark curls were haloed by the light like it had been designed just to find him. He wasn’t dancing for attention, just moving like the music lived somewhere inside him. Eyes closed, arms swaying in perfect rhythm with the beat of the music, completely immersed in the song. A small, content smile played at the corner of his mouth as though he was lost in his own world. Nick was wholly captivated, held spellbound by this boy he’d never seen before, but whose energy called to Nick from across the room. Like his soul yearned to be close to him.

And then the music changed, dropping into something electronic, the beat thudding through the floor, the atmosphere shifting to make room for the song. The opening lyric slipped through the speakers, sultry and magnetic:

I don’t got a single problem with provocative…

The boy didn’t falter, he just kept on moving, the rhythm curling through his limbs, graceful and grounded. But it wasn’t performative. There was no seeking of eyes, no showmanship. Just him, the music, the low pink light catching a silver ring on his thumb and the sharp edge of his jaw.

Nick’s hand tightened slightly around his glass. He didn’t usually get like this. He wasn’t some lovesick film character, standing alone in a bar, pining after strangers under disco lights. But there was something about him, something magnetic and unbothered, like he’d stepped out of a dream Nick hadn’t realised he’d been having.

See the bodies, how they burn—it’s just the way it is…

The dance floor was like a furnace—sweat, perfume and heat soaking into the air, and still the boy moved like it was made just for him. Like the fire didn’t touch him. Nick watched as he opened his eyes for the first time and looked out across the crowd. And then, like a drop of cold water hitting hot skin, their eyes met. Just for a second and Nick’s stomach flipped. He looked away immediately, the moment suddenly too much, too loud. He forced himself to focus on his drink, on the condensation trickling down the glass, on the uneven surface of the wall behind him. On literally anything but the fact that a total stranger had just looked at him like—

No, not like anything. It was just a glance. A passing, meaningless glance.

Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing…

He’d come out tonight expecting nothing, wanting nothing. But now, in the haze and heat of it all, he realised how wrong that was. Now he needed something—he needed to know him. He stole another look, just a quick one, and the guy was still dancing, but now there was a flicker of something new. His eyes were open now, scanning gently across the crowd, and his movements had slowed, like he was feeling the weight of being watched. He tilted his head slightly, just enough for one curl to fall forward over his forehead. Nick felt a heat crawl up his neck.

Under pink light in June…

God, it was too much, first the hazy-blush of lights, the buzz of alcohol in his system, then the way the boy’s mouth parted ever so slightly as he moved. Like he belonged to the room and the room belonged to him. And then, again, their eyes met. But this time, neither of them looked away. Nick held his gaze, his pulse hammering. There was no smirk, no boldness, no mockery, just this steady curiosity, like he was trying to figure something out too. Like maybe this wasn’t one-sided after all.

I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden
You saw me look at you…

The lyric hit Nick square in the chest. Because the boy was no longer dancing, at least not in the same way. He’d slowed and turned slightly, like he was searching for someone. Nick felt like his heart was launching into a sprint.

He’s looking at me again. He’s—no. No, he’s not. I’m making this up. There is no possible universe where this is—

And then, time seemed to slow down and gradually, deliberately, the boy lifted one hand and held it out, palm up. Just enough to beckon, just enough to say: Come here. Nick’s breath caught and the room blurred for a second. Lights flashing too bright, bass too heavy, his body too tense. But the boy didn’t drop his hand and didn’t look away.

I burn for you
And you don’t even know my name…

The lyric rolled over Nick’s shoulders like a dare. And then, somehow, step by step, he was moving towards the dance floor. Towards him.

If you asked me to, I’d give up everything
To be close to you…

It hit Nick like a confession he hadn’t meant to make. Like the song was speaking directly for him. He didn’t even know his name. Didn’t know anything except the way his body moved in the light, the way his smile kept flickering between teasing and soft. But he believed the prophetic lyrics in his bones. He’d give up everything; the quiet safety of his flat, the barriers he'd spent weeks building, just to be here and be seen like this.

The boy shifted closer, slow and unhurried, until the space between them was barely a breath. His hand lifted, not quite to touch, just to hover, fingers open between them like a question only Nick could answer. Nick felt like he was made of glass and if the boy brushed even one fingertip across his skin, he’d shatter.

Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met
I wanna be close to you…

The boy moved first, just the gentlest press of his hand against Nick’s forearm, grounding him. Tethering him to the moment. Nick let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. It was impossible to tell how long they’d been moving around each other like this. It could have been seconds, minutes, entire lifetimes, condensed into the pulse of bass and pink light. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t think of anything beyond the way the boy’s thumb brushed lightly, absently, across the fabric of his sleeve as they danced.

It wasn’t quite romantic, not really.

It wasn’t sexual either, not yet.

It was something slower, stranger. Like gravity, like inevitability.

Break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight…

Nick’s chest ached, but in a good way. A kind of ache that felt like possibility. Like something about to begin. The chance of getting burned was still there, lingering in the back of his mind, but for the first time in his life he found he didn’t care. This boy, with his impossibly blue eyes, had already lit something inside him he couldn’t put out. 

Just let me be
Close to you, close to you, close to you…

And still neither of them had said a word. But the boy was smiling again. That same soft, amused smile, like Nick was the best part of his night. And Nick, dazed, breathless and still swaying to the music, was starting to think this might be the best part of his year.

And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing…

Nick couldn’t hear what he was saying, if he was saying anything at all, but his lips parted like they were caught on a secret. He wasn’t smiling now, but there was something else behind his eyes, something drawing Nick in. He felt like his whole body was vibrating. The boy leaned in, close enough that Nick felt the warmth of his breath against his jaw, and then, impossibly gently, he reached up and let his fingers brush the side of Nick’s neck. A touch so light it might’ve been an accident. Except it wasn’t.

You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying…

Nick made an embarrassing noise in his throat. He didn’t mean to, but the boy’s fingertips were cool and steady and confident, and suddenly Nick was melting, his knees like jelly. His brain was static. His heart, traitorous and loud, was practically punching a hole through his ribs.

You should be mine for life, I’ll be signing
Every dotted line…

It was madness, all of it, but Nick couldn’t help it. He felt it in his spine, in his skin, in the quiet vow he was apparently ready to scrawl in ink across the sky: Yes. You. Whatever this is. I’m in. He didn’t take his hand away. If anything, he drew infinitesimally closer. Not pressing, not claiming, just there . Steady and certain, like destiny.

And Nick… let him.

He didn’t run, didn’t look away. Instead he just stood there, every nerve in his body feeling like a lit fuse.

Chemical override, ultraviolet
You could be mine tonight…

The lyric crashed over Nick like a wave, you could be mine tonight, and suddenly everything felt like a fever dream. The boy’s gaze, warm and unwavering, like he was memorising every plane, contour and freckle of Nick’s face. Nick’s whole body was trembling, not from the music or the heat, but from him. They weren’t touching anymore, not quite. Just hovering, but close enough to still feel the warmth between them. Close enough that Nick could see the darker flecks in his piercing blue eyes, and the way one curl clung to his temple with sweat. The song was still playing, but it didn’t matter. The world had narrowed down to this one moment, suspended between heartbeats.

And then the boy leaned in again, just slightly, like he was letting Nick decide.

Nick’s breath caught, and somehow, somehow, he found his voice.

“Hi.”

The boy’s lips curled. That same soft, slow smile Nick was already half in love with.

“Hi.”

It was ridiculous, how much it meant. Two letters, twice. Like a spark and its echo.

You could be mine tonight…

Although the song was ending, that line whispered between them now like a secret; quiet and unspoken. The boy reached for him, and without thinking, Nick offered his hand. The moment their fingers laced together it was as if tiny sparks flitted around them. It was all Nick could do to focus on the feel of his hand, warm and certain, tugging gently at his own. And somehow, he knew, with the kind of clarity that only came in moments like this, rare and electric, that this was the beginning of something real. The song faded, the lights shifting again, as the crowd pulsed around them. But Nick, still lost in the moment, barely noticed.

The boy smiled, not big, not showy. Just soft and certain.

And then, with a tilt of his head, he led Nick from the floor. 

No words, no plan. Just a feeling.

Nick followed without hesitation.

He didn’t need to know where they were going.

It didn’t matter, because he already knew he would follow him anywhere.

 

Notes:

So I didn't want to give too much of the plot away in my note above, but when I said this wasn't remotely what I had intended to write, I really meant it! To me the entire song is just so Nick sees Charlie dancing in a bar and immediately falls in love with him coded, and my original idea had them noticing each other, talking, dancing together, before ultimately leaving, going back to one of their places aaaaand fade to black because as much as I may have wanted to challenge myself with this, some things are never going to change!!

But when I finally figured out that the reason I was struggling to make it work in my head, was because I wanted the lyrics to essentially drive the narrative over real time, that in turn meant I only had a time frame of about 3-4 minutes to play with. And maybe I've taken a little bit of liberty with that, but I'm hoping it feels like the whole scene more or less plays out over the length of a song. So bang went the dialogue! Well except for the obvious, but how couId I not?! Just like the whole reference to 62% which was originally 75%, but some things just have to be done 💙💛

Thank you Gamma as always for the beta read 💜💜

So yay, after almost year this is finally finished! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️