Oliver laughed in response to Charlie's demand that they had to watch property shows. This would not be a problem, Oliver subscribed to a whole channel that showed nothing but property shows. He had a problem, okay? Besides, Oliver couldn't imagine how he'd rather spend an evening than cuddled up with Charlie on the sofa, drinking tea and watching telly. Perhaps he was becoming old, Oliver thought but there was a rather sharp realisation that he didn't mind. Because Charlie had linked his fingers with Oliver's, waiting long enough for Oliver to get his tea, too, before they walked over to the sofa. And that was just... well, pretty fucking lovely, really.
Settling down against one corner of the sofa, Oliver pulled Charlie closer, having the other man's back rest against Oliver's chest, but still at a good enough angle for any sort of kissing to be a possibility. He turned the tv on, settling comfortably to enjoy the warmth from both Charlie and the tea. Perhaps he was getting old, but honestly, Oliver hadn't really ever felt more content. Right here and right now, Oliver could almost pretend that this could be forever.