Men flock to Charlie, and Charlie tries to introduce the men to Dev, but it’s impossible to see anyone else when Charlie’s around, hulking and blond and sweating in the flashing lights. Dev loses track of how many drinks he’s had. He loses track of everything except for Charlie’s curled lips, his white teeth, strobe lights. He wonders how many nights like this Charlie Winshaw has had in his life. Permanent smile, completely out of his head, not worried about being weird and being totally, unapologetically weird as he thrusts his hips to Lady Gaga.
Has Charlie ever had a night like this? Has he ever just let himself be? Charlie dances like his skin is a pair of stiff jeans he’s finally broken in, like for the first time, he fits. Dev wishes Angie and Daphne were here right now, wishes all the women could witness this, because it would be impossible not to fall in love with this version of Charlie.
“You’re not dancing!” Charlie screams in his face. He grabs Dev’s waist and pulls him toward where Jules is grinding on someone wearing fishnets and nothing else. Skylar’s in her own world, arms vertical, completely free from her usual stress. It really is a perfect night.
“I was just watching you enjoy yourself.”
“What?” Charlie shouts over the music.
“Nothing!” Dev laughs, but for the first time all night, it doesn’t feel funny. Charlie’s hands are massive on his narrow hips, like bookends holding him upright. Charlie pulls him even closer, knees brushing knees.
“You’re too nice to me,” Charlie shouts.
“No one can ever be too nice to you, Charlie.”
“No. No.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He looks so serious, carved in florescent, flashing light. “I’m worried you don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
“I’m worried you don’t know what you deserve.” He grabs Dev’s shoulders. “Six years is a long time to stay.”
For a second, Dev isn’t sure if Charlie is talking about his six years with Ryan or his six years with Ever After. Charlie’s hands are on the back of his neck, and he pulls their foreheads together. Dev can taste the alcohol on Charlie’s breath with every exhale. “You’re too amazing to settle for Goonies T-shirts and a PS5.”
Ryan, then. “Thanks, Charlie.”
Charlie leans back just enough to reach out for a man dancing close by. He pulls the man into their little hug-circle. “This is my friend Dev,” Charlie tells the stranger. “You should love him.”
The man is drunk enough to roll with this moment. “Okay,” he says, winking at Dev.
“No, listen.” Charlie’s got one hand on the back of Dev’s neck, one hand on the back of this other man’s. “Dev is the best there is. The absolute best. He’s so fucking beautiful. Look at him.”
And then Charlie is looking at him. It’s the same horrible combination of Charlie’s eyes and Dev’s skin as before. “Isn’t he the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?”
“I think you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” the stranger tells Charlie in a husky voice, and Dev detaches himself from the triangle of limbs, pushing himself away from Charlie. He needs more alcohol. Or maybe less alcohol. Or air. Or something.
“Hey!” Jules follows him to the fringes of the club, to a dark corner where the music isn’t tangled in his heart, where Charlie isn’t tangled in his body. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He manages an easy smile. “Of course! It’s just…” He points to where Charlie is still talking with the man. “He’s a human cockblock.”
“I’m not sure what you expected. He’s gorgeous.”