Chapter 44
The Christmas lights twinkle softly, casting a warm glow across the living room. Charlie watches as Remy scurries toward the tree, his tiny hands reaching for the nearest plug. He huffs with determination, managing to get the lights on all by himself before plopping down cross-legged in front of the TV. His excitement is infectious, his little hands clapping together as he practically vibrates in place.
"Okay, okay, okay!" Remy chants, eyes wide with anticipation. "Presents? Presents?"
Charlie chuckles, sinking into the couch beside Nick, both of them watching with fond amusement as Remy bounces in place. God, he loves this kid.
"Do you want presents first, bud, or breakfast?" Charlie asks, knowing full well what the answer will be but wanting to give Remy the choice anyway.
Remy hums dramatically, tapping a finger to his chin like he’s deep in thought, before shaking his head quickly. "No, presents first!" He practically shouts, then beams. "I have a present for both you, Daddy, and you, Papa!"
Charlie feels Nick still slightly beside him, and when he turns, he sees the warmth spreading across his face. Papa. It’s not the first time Remy has called him that—not by a long shot—but something about hearing it on Christmas morning makes it different. Makes it real.
Charlie meets Nick’s gaze, offering him a small, understanding smile. He doesn’t need to say anything—Nick already knows. It’s real, and Charlie wants it to stay real.
"Okay," Charlie agrees, and Remy lets out an excited squeal, scrambling toward the tree so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet.
Charlie watches as he picks up a box wrapped in bright blue paper covered in tiny white snowflakes. He recognizes the wrapping instantly. Nick’s gift.
Remy shakes the box slightly before turning back toward them, eyes shining. "Can I open this one?"
Charlie tilts his head. "That one's from Papa, though. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes, yes, please!" Remy insists, already tugging at the paper, not even waiting for permission.
Nick chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, go ahead, bud."
Remy tears into the wrapping with enthusiastic little grunts, shredding the paper like his life depends on it. Pieces fly in every direction until finally, the gift is revealed—a train set, but not just any train set.
Charlie inhales slightly as he realizes what it is.
A build-your-own train set. One that Remy can paint and customize however he wants.
Remy gasps, his little hands smoothing over the box like it’s the most sacred thing in the world. "Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhh!" He squeals, bouncing in place. "I can paint it?!"
Nick grins, nodding. "Yep! You get to build it first, then you can paint it however you want. Any colors, any designs. It’s all yours."
Charlie watches as Remy clutches the box to his chest, his entire body radiating pure joy. God, Nick is good. He’s so good with him.
"This is the bestest train ever!" Remy exclaims, and before Charlie can blink, Remy launches himself up onto the couch, tackling Nick in a full-body hug.
Nick lets out a soft "oof," arms instinctively coming up to catch him. At first, Charlie can tell he’s surprised—Nick still has that hesitation, that uncertainty about whether he’s allowed to have this, whether he’s allowed to be Papa. But it only takes a second before Nick melts into it, holding Remy close, his large hands covering almost all of Remy's tiny back.
"Glad you like it, bud," Nick murmurs, pressing a small kiss to the top of Remy's head.
And then—then Remy pulls back, looking up at Nick with absolute adoration, and says, "I love it, Papa."
Charlie swears he can see the exact moment Nick's heart shatters and reassembles itself into something stronger, something new.
It makes Charlie’s own chest ache, in the best way.
"Okay, now you! Your present!" Remy announces, wiggling free from Nick’s hold and immediately on a mission to grab the next gift.
Charlie laughs, shaking his head as Remy bounces back toward the tree. But his eyes don’t leave Nick.
Nick, who is still frozen in place, his hand pressed lightly against his chest, as if he’s trying to memorize the exact spot where Remy had just hugged him. As if he can still feel his little heartbeat against his own.
Charlie swallows thickly, watching the way Nick exhales, how he blinks rapidly, as if trying to chase away the emotion building behind his eyes.
Nick catches Charlie watching him, and Charlie just nods, his lips twitching into a small smile.
It’s real. It’s happening. This isn’t something temporary. This is them—Charlie, Nick, and Remy.
Charlie watches as Remy practically bounces on his feet, his excitement barely contained as he clutches a small, neatly wrapped present in his tiny hands. The wrapping paper is decorated with little Christmas trees, slightly crinkled at the edges where Remy clearly tried to smooth it out himself. With a determined nod, Remy marches over to Nick and carefully sets the gift down on the coffee table in front of him.
“Here you go!” Remy declares proudly, his hands clasped behind his back as he rocks on his heels.
Nick blinks, looking between the present and the eager little boy in front of him. “Is this for me?” he asks, a smile already tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Yes!” Remy nods furiously. “I know I’m not Santa, but I hope you like it.”
Charlie bites back a smile, watching as Nick picks up the gift, running his fingers over the wrapping paper. “Oh, of course I’m gonna like it,” he says, warmth filling his voice. “Thank you, Remy. That’s so sweet, buddy.”
“Okay, okay! Open it, open it, open it!” Remy chants, practically vibrating with excitement.
Nick chuckles and carefully starts unwrapping the present, peeling back the layers of tape and paper with deliberate care. He lifts the small box inside, giving it a gentle shake—only for Charlie to lurch forward, stopping him with a hand on his wrist.
“No, no, don’t shake it. It’s fragile,” Charlie warns, amusement coloring his tone.
Nick immediately freezes, looking sheepish. “Oh. Got it. No shaking.”
Charlie watches as Nick carefully lifts the lid, revealing what’s inside. It’s a mug—hand-painted with love, slightly uneven in places but unmistakably filled with effort. Across the front, in big, wobbly letters that are so clearly Remy’s handwriting, are the words Papa, painted in a bright, cheerful blue. There are polka dots scattered all over, mismatched in size, and in the corner where the handle meets the mug, there’s a tiny dinosaur, its green paint slightly smudged but still absolutely perfect.
Nick is completely still, staring down at it.
Remy beams, pointing at the mug with both hands. “You needed a mug for Daddy,” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And now you needed a mug too, Papa. So now you and Daddy can share. You both have a mug.”
Charlie looks at Nick, at the way his mouth has parted slightly, at the way his eyes shimmer like he’s holding back tears.
Nick slowly reaches for Remy, pulling him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Oh, buddy,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. “I love it so much. Thank you so much.”
Remy leans back slightly, peering up at him. “You like it?”
Nick nods, holding the mug close to his chest. “I love it,” he corrects, his voice a little wobbly. “Papa loves it. Thank you, Remy.”
Remy grins, satisfied, before looking over at Charlie. “Okay, Daddy, now we all have mugs! That means we have to drink together!”
Charlie lets out a soft laugh, watching the way Nick still holds the mug like it’s the most precious thing in the world, watching the way he tucks Remy in close like he’s something even more precious.
Charlie smiles as he reaches under the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped present adorned with snowmen. He straightens, cradling it in his hands before looking at Nick, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Alright, Nick, it's time for your present," he says.
Nick raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Shouldn’t you go first?"
Charlie hums, then turns to Remy, who’s curled up on the floor with a pile of blankets and stuffed animals. "Remy, what do you think? Should Papa open his present first, or should Daddy?"
Remy tilts his head, considering, but something unspoken passes between him and Nick—a shared look, a quiet understanding that makes them both giggle. Finally, Remy nods decisively. "Papa gets a present first. Then you, Daddy."
Charlie feigns a sigh. "Well, I can’t argue with the boss."
Remy puffs out his chest. "I’m not the boss."
Charlie grins. "No, but you can be bossy."
"That’s not very nice," Remy huffs, crossing his arms. "You’re being rude."
Charlie laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. "I’m just messing with you, bud." Then he turns back to Nick, handing him the present. "Go on, open it."
Nick takes the box, feeling its weight before shaking it lightly, the sound of something metallic rattling inside. He looks up at Charlie, amused. "Really hope it wasn’t fragile."
Charlie smirks. "Nope. Now hurry up—I want to see your reaction."
With a chuckle, Nick peels away the wrapping paper, revealing a small box. He lifts the lid, eyes widening as he sees what’s inside.
A key.
Nick blinks, staring at it for a moment before slowly picking it up. He looks at Charlie, brows furrowed, voice hesitant. "Is this...?"
Charlie nods, his expression soft. "It’s the key to the house. I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I don’t like you always having to use the spare under the rug. I want you to have your own key. This is your home as much as it is mine."
Nick's breath catches, fingers tightening around the metal. Charlie shifts slightly, voice quieter now. "And… I feel a lot safer knowing you can come in anytime you want. Not just when you have to go looking for the spare. Especially since, well… my friends seem to think the spare key is a communal thing depending on who’s babysitting."
Nick lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "Charlie, this is—what?" He looks down at the key again, turning it in his palm. That’s when he notices the engraving.
Four letters.
O-T-I-S.
Otis.
Nick stills, his throat tightening. His fingers trace over the name, as if trying to confirm it's real.
Charlie shifts on his feet, swallowing nervously. "I know Otis can’t be here," he says softly. "And I know how much you wish he was. It might not make sense to have a key with his name on it, but… I want you to know that you can always talk about him here. This is a safe place. And maybe, just maybe… this can be a way to move forward. With him still beside you."
Nick doesn’t think. Doesn’t speak.
He just moves.
One second, he's staring at the key, and the next, he's grabbing Charlie, pulling him into his arms, holding him impossibly tight. His breath shudders against Charlie’s neck, and Charlie can feel the tremble in his grip.
"Thank you," Nick whispers, voice thick, raw, vulnerable.
Charlie exhales, pressing his lips to Nick’s shoulder. "Of course."
Nick squeezes his eyes shut, clutching the key in his palm.
He’s home.
And Otis is with him.
Charlie grins as he watches Nick shift excitedly in place, clearly trying to contain himself.
“Okay,” Nick says, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “Now it’s time for your present.”
Charlie raises a brow as Nick steps away for a moment, rummaging in the corner of the room before returning with a neatly wrapped box. The paper is a deep navy blue, crisp with clean folds, and tied with a soft gold ribbon. Charlie takes it, giving it a playful shake.
“Um, Nick?” He tilts his head. “I think this might be empty.”
Nick smirks. “It’s not. Just—trust me, okay? I want you to unwrap it, but don’t open the box yet.”
Charlie eyes him suspiciously. “Why?”
Nick exhales sharply, like he’s barely holding something in. “Just do it. Please. Unwrap it, but when you’re done, close your eyes.”
Charlie narrows his eyes but obeys, carefully pulling at the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper. He sets it aside, now holding a plain but sturdy cardboard box in his hands. With a small shrug, he closes his eyes, waiting.
He hears Nick step away for a moment, and his lips part to call after him—but something makes him pause. Instead, he exhales and rests his hands on the box. A second later, he feels a familiar weight settle onto his lap.
“Daddy,” Remy whispers with a giggle, his tiny hands patting Charlie’s arms, “you’re gonna love this so much.”
Charlie furrows his brow, but before he can ask what exactly he’s going to love, he feels Nick settle beside him again.
“Okay,” Nick says, a grin evident in his voice. “I want you to open it now, but don’t turn around.”
Charlie hesitates before lifting the lid, peering inside. His brow furrows when he sees what’s resting inside—a small, well-made dog collar, a deep navy that matches the wrapping paper, with a tiny gold nameplate attached to it.
His breath catches. He stares at it, the smooth metal glinting under the light. A collar?
Confused, he starts to turn toward Nick, but before he can, something soft and wiggling suddenly leaps onto his chest.
A small, golden ball of fluff.
Charlie blinks in shock as the tiniest golden retriever puppy pops up in front of him, paws resting on his chest, tail wagging wildly, a little bow tied to her soft, floppy ear. She lets out an excited, high-pitched bark before licking his face enthusiastically, tiny paws pressing against him in pure excitement.
Charlie gasps. “Oh my God.”
Nick laughs beside him, warm and full of joy. “I know we haven’t talked about this, and I know it’s a big thing, but…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I really think it’d be good for Remy to have a little play pal. And, well, I mean, look at her. How was I supposed to say no?”
Charlie can’t even process the words because the puppy is still licking his face, her little tail thumping rapidly against his chest. He shifts slightly, gently cupping her tiny body in his hands, and finally looks at Nick—stunned.
“Wait, really? When did—how—?” He’s completely lost, barely able to string a sentence together. Then, realization dawns. He turns to his son. “Did you know about this?”
Remy nods proudly, eyes shining with excitement. “Uh-huh! Papa told me last night.”
Charlie gapes at them both, his heart racing. “You kept this a secret from me this whole time?”
Remy giggles, hugging his little arms around himself. “Mhm!”
Charlie shakes his head in disbelief before turning back to Nick, and suddenly, he’s beaming. “I’m not mad—I just—she’s looking at me, she’s so cute!” He strokes the puppy’s soft ears, completely enchanted as she wags her tail harder.
Nick grins, obviously pleased. “I know, right?”
Charlie laughs breathlessly, his brain still trying to catch up. “When did you—where has she been this whole time?”
Nick scratches the back of his head. “So… I actually got up around six this morning and drove to my mom’s to pick her up. She’s been taking care of her for the past few days while I figured out how to surprise you.”
Charlie blinks. “Six in the morning?!”
Nick chuckles. “Yup. And then I had to keep her hidden, which—by the way—was really hard. I told Remy to wake you up and make sure you didn’t go into the bathroom, ‘cause that’s where I was keeping her. Then, when you were distracted, I moved her to your closet.”
Charlie is still shaking his head, completely overwhelmed in the best way. “Wait, wait—so you just… had a puppy in my closet this whole time?”
Nick grins. “Sure did.”
Charlie looks at the tiny, fluffy thing in his lap, then at his son, who’s bouncing excitedly, then at Nick—his ridiculous, wonderful, perfect Nick—and feels his heart swell.
She’s theirs.
He lets out a breathless laugh, then hugs the puppy closer. “I love her.”
Charlie stares at the tiny ball of fur in front of him, wide-eyed, then back up at Nick, who’s watching him with an almost nervous anticipation. The puppy—small, wiggly, and undeniably adorable—lets out a tiny yip, her tail wagging furiously as she looks between them, as if she already knows she belongs here.
Nick shifts slightly, running a hand through his hair, his smile soft but uncertain. “I know it’s a big commitment,” he says, voice gentle. “And if you don’t want her, that’s okay. I can take her back. But, Charlie… I see a life with you. I know the last few months have been a lot—messy, complicated, back and forth sometimes—but I do. I see a future with you. And I mean, I have a key to the house now. I want to build something real with you, something lasting.
“I know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but you’re it for me, Charlie,” Nick breathes out, his eyes holding nothing but sincerity. “It feels too soon to get down on one knee, but this… this felt right. This felt like something I could do to show you how serious I am. How much I want to be here. With you. With Remy. And—” he gestures to the puppy, whose tail is still wagging so fast it’s a blur. “With her.”
Charlie swallows, looking back down at the puppy, who licks at his fingers curiously. His heart clenches, his chest tightening with something deep and overwhelming. “Nick,” he says quietly, “I’ve never had a dog before. I’ve never been able to.”
Nick nods, his smile softening. “I know,” he murmurs. “And I just… I wanted to do something special for you, Charlie. Something that’s yours. Something that’s ours. But you don’t have to do any of it alone—I’ll take care of her. I’ll bathe her. I’ll feed her. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. I just wanted to give you something that’s yours, too.”
Charlie exhales, something warm and fragile blooming inside him, something he’s almost afraid to hold onto. He looks at the puppy again, who yips excitedly, completely unaware of how much this moment means.
Then he looks at Nick—the man who sees him, who loves him, who is choosing to stay—and smiles, shaking his head fondly. “So this was the thing that was going to blow my mind?” he asks.
Nick grins, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, hey. It’s a puppy. That’s pretty mind-blowing, right?”
Charlie lets out a breath of laughter before stepping forward, tilting Nick’s chin up with two fingers and kissing him slow, deep, grateful. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against Nick’s, smiling against his skin.
Remy jumps up, clutching the wriggling puppy in his arms, his face lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy.
“Daddy! What do we name her?” he asks, bouncing on his feet. “What’s her name? What’s her name?”
Charlie glances at Nick before saying, “Um… I say Daisy.”
Remy gasps like it’s the best name in the world. “Hi, Daisy! Yes, you’re such a good girl. You’re going to be my best friend forever.” He giggles as Daisy licks his face, her tiny tail wagging wildly.
Charlie watches them for a moment, warmth flooding his chest before he turns back to Nick. His voice is soft, filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you for sticking with me.”
Nick shakes his head, stepping closer. “I’m not sticking with you, Char. I’m beside you. We’re equal. We’re together.”
Charlie lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Something tells me, though, that the real mind-blowing present wasn’t just the puppy.”
Nick smirks, crossing his arms. “Well, you’d be right. But I can’t exactly say what I’m planning in front of a child, now can I?”
Charlie’s eyes widen. “Oh, how daring of you,” he teases. “Are you planning to torment me with this all day now?”
Nick shrugs, completely unbothered. “You’re the one who questioned my words. Actions have consequences, Mr. Spring.”
Charlie narrows his eyes playfully. “Fine. But I will get you back.”
“Oh, I know you will,” Nick replies, grinning.
They both turn their attention back to Remy, who is now running around the living room, Daisy hot on his heels, tugging at the edge of his blanket. His laughter rings through the crisp air, pure and unrestrained.
Nick exhales, watching them. “This,” he says quietly, “this is home. This is my family. You are my family.”
Charlie swallows, the weight of those words settling deep in his heart. He wants to say something, but before he can, Nick smirks again, looking down at Remy. “And you know,” he adds, “one of these days, I am going to get down on one knee.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Soon?”
Nick hums, pretending to consider. “Hmm. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Charlie tilts his head. “And what if I beat you to it?”
Nick groans dramatically. “Char, let me have this moment! You made the first move. You kissed me first. You have to let me have something under my name as a first.”
Charlie smirks. “Okay, okay, fine.”
Nick eyes him suspiciously. “Wait… are you going to turn this into a challenge?”
Charlie hesitates for a second too long. “No. No… well—maybe.”
Nick lets out a laugh before leaning in, dropping his voice to a near whisper. “Before you know it, that’s not just going to be my son and our dog.” He takes Charlie’s hand, threading their fingers together. “You’re going to be my husband.”
Charlie’s breath catches, and he squeezes Nick’s hand. “Well,” he says softly, “before I’m your husband, I need to be your fiancé first.”
Nick grins. “Okay, yes. My fiancé.”
Charlie leans up, pressing a slow, warm kiss to Nick’s lips before murmuring against them, “Merry Christmas.”
Nick smiles, brushing his nose against Charlie’s. “Merry Christmas, future Fiancé.”
All is well in the world this Christmas. Truly, all is well. Because Charlie is loved—by his son, by his family, by the newest addition to their chaotic little home, Daisy. And most of all, by Nick.
Life is good. He’s healing, slowly but surely. He’s learning to trust, to lean on others, to believe that love doesn’t have to come with conditions. This house—this place they’ve built together—is his home. As much as it is Nick’s.
But in the end, home isn’t the walls around him, isn’t the roof over his head or the street they live on. It’s the warmth of his son’s laughter, the steady presence of Nick beside him, the playful barks of Daisy filling the air. It’s the way Nick looks at him—like he’s something worth holding onto, worth staying for.
Charlie could be anywhere. A cramped studio apartment, a cozy cabin in the woods, a sprawling mansion with more rooms than he’d ever know what to do with.
And still, the only thing that would ever make it home is them.
His son. His dog. And his future fiancé—Mr. Nick Nelson.