A Heartstopper Fanfic

Chapter 42: Buttons

(Third Person POV)

"You're the professional," says Charlie, urging Nick forward with his palm pushing up against the small of his fiancé's back. "So you can go first. I'll sit over here..." With his head going in all sorts of directions and varying speeds, Nick swears that Charlie is going to throw up. A few seconds later, and with no seats in sight, his fiancé accepts defeat. "If you need me then I'll be standing over there, Nicholas. Have fun!"

Of the two, Nick had gone to many weddings. Most of which he was dragged to because they were his mom's friends, or the children of those friends, and so on. Apparently, those childhood memories deem Nick as a professional when it comes to getting a tuxedo. That is where Nick and Charlie disagree.

  "Hate to break it to you, but there can be more than one person browsing at a time, Charles." Firmly grabbing Charlie's hand, the golden retriever of the couple proceeds to further drag the other (who's now cursing in his head) through the entrance of a store in London that sells men's formal wear.

Weeks ago the boys decided to swing by today and take a look at tuxedos to wear to Tara and Darcy's wedding. Originally, Charlie had agreed, because originally, only Nick was meant to get a new suit. His is old and too traditional for their friend's wedding, which is meant to be extravagant, and yes, very gay.

(Charlie's POV)

  As we hold hands, I can't help but feel embarrassed about how clammy my hand is right now. How the hell he even has any grip on it has me baffled. Though, to be honest, the reason behind it being so sweaty is much more embarrassing.

This is going to sound dumb, very dumb. Frankly, if I admit to this Nick, he'll probably laugh at, and then tease me, which is a fair reaction.

In all honesty, I'm just afraid to see Nick in a suit. And that's because he's devastatingly hot, and my face is very expressive. I could never hide how enamored I am by him wearing a fucking suit and tie. Plus, with the fact that Nick is Nick Nelson, my doting future husband, that makes my super slim chance of him not being able to read me, even slimmer. He can read me extremely well, and sometimes it's incredibly unfortunate. Today is one of those days.

  "Fuck." I whisper under my breath, feeling redness creep onto my face as I think about Nick in a suit. "What the hell is wrong with me?" Immediately I clap a hand onto my mouth, slowly removing it with a groan. If I could not voice my inside thoughts that would be great. Nick peers over his shoulder, a hand of his yanking at a potential blazer for him to wear. "What did you say?"

Shifting my weight onto my dominant foot, I grin. "I said 'fuck, what the hell, that's such a nice color'." Ignoring the sweat practically heading down my face like in a cartoon, Nick nods in agreement. For the next few minutes, he continuously pulls out more options, all of varying colors. That is until we get to a beige tuxedo. "You could wear a colorful tie with that, nothing tacky though, just something that'll pop." My voice is soft as I look over him, imagining it, "A bow tie could work too, though, anything could."

Despite not voicing it, my flickering eyes say "you'd look good in anything."

Of course, taking his fiancé's idea into account, Nick chooses not to put the beige blazer back. Nick also simultaneously talks about how Elle's expertise has rubbed off on me. That's true, she has certainly taught me a lot over the years. Though, I'll never look as fabulous as her. But that's a given. That's one of Elle's things, not mine.

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  "Alright, since you're practically dressing me, I was wondering if I could do the same for you." Says Nick, or rather, asks Nick. A bit worried, yet of course trusting Nick, I say yes. Over the past few years, I've gained a better perception as to what I look good in as my love for my body has grown, but at times Nick still acts like my personal stylist. Besides, what's the worst that he could do?