Chapter 1: Guests
Summary:
Nick Nelson takes over Lavender Fields Bed and Breakfast for a year. One night in September, a new reservation checks in.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick Nelson was doing fine.
Yes, he did currently have streaks of dirt on his face from when he dragged his hands down his cheeks in frustration after he messed with the drip irrigation line and it sprayed in his face. And yes, the mixture of water and dirt on his face did turn into mud he could feel slowly oozing down to his neck. He almost wished Amy was here this week so she could first take a picture of him to make fun of him and then offer help, which was what a true friend would do (as she often claimed), because he knew he looked ridiculous. And he looked even more ridiculous a moment later when he forgot himself and went to wipe the mud off his face, just mixing more dirt in in the process. Farmer Nick. Who would have thought?
Not Nick, not even a few years ago.
Nick had been surprised at first when his mum Sarah had purchased a lovely but ageing estate house and its large fields with her long-coming divorce settlement from his dad. In just a few months, though, Nick wondered how his mum had actually gone so long not doing this. He’d always been impressed by Sarah Nelson, but she went to another level with this new undertaking. She’d thrown herself into Google and home improvement books, pouring hours of research and effort into converting the house into a bed and breakfast, and hiring help when it was something that went beyond what she could reasonably do, like ploughing the fields. Nick had been surprised when she had declared that she was going to turn it into a working farm; he’d (foolishly, he now realised) thought she’d just, you know, live there and rent out a few rooms.
Nick was there on his first visit during one of his breaks from the Sale Sharks academy where he was playing for their Juniors team, fighting for a spot in the League. He’d come expecting to haul furniture, unpack boxes and have his mum repeatedly coo when she came across an old photo of him or his brother, exclaiming that little Nicky was just so handsome. He had not been expecting to park behind a massive tractor, or step cautiously around a series of pumps and generators.
He had opened the door to the manor (at least, that’s what it was called on the listing - in reality, it was a large farm home) and called for his mum, wandering around until he found her in one of the upstairs bedrooms, paint roller in hand.
“Mum?”
“Hello, darling.”
“Mum… what’s going on out there?!”
“We’re getting the fields ready, baby,” said Sarah, looking at Nick like he was the nutter. “I have the shipment of lavender cuttings coming in just a few weeks, so I need to have the field itself ready to go.”
“Lavender?” Nick asked. “You’re planting lavender? Why?”
“Because it’s lovely,” Sarah had said brightly. Nick smiled and raised an eyebrow. He knew her pragmatism better than that. “And it’s one of the lower-maintenance crops to grow with some of the best margins.”
“Why even grow a crop at all, though?” reasoned Nick. “You have the house that you’ll turn an income from. Why bother with all the planting and harvesting and - and do you even know how to farm? Our garden at home didn’t…” He cut himself off, Sarah giving him a look. He knew not to bring up the mass grave of flowers and vegetables that seemed to be an annual tradition since Nick had gone into secondary.
“This is different,” said Sarah, dipping the roller into more paint and nodding to another roller, Nick taking the hint. “I was working 45 hours a week, and looking after you and David and Nellie and Henry, and I didn’t have time to do the other things that I loved because I was taking care of who I loved.”
Nick felt a little twinge of guilt even though she had turned a warm smile at him along with her words. His mum had always just been - mum. It felt tremendously stupid, but that had been the first time his twenty-one year old brain had ever thought about his mum… liking things. He knew she liked things, like reading and book clubs and wine, but he’d never really… well, never really thought about the fact that she’d had to give up any passions in order to do the things she was obligated to do. Even if it came from a place of love. He tried to get something out, struggling with how to even start to acknowledge all of the things she’d done or gone through to pretty much raise him and David as a single mum, but she was already talking again.
“Imagine waking up to a field of flowers everyday, Nicky,” said Sarah, looking out the window at the muddy fields like she could see it. “There’s so much land there, and it seems silly to do nothing with it.”
“That’s fair,” said Nick. “I-”
“Besides,” she said, fixing him with earnest eyes. “Bees love lavender. And their populations are declining, you know.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve heard that,” said Nick. “Will it-”
“I might as well give them a home too, you know, not just one for myself,” she finished, nodding firmly.
And she had.
Nick had watched from afar as she sent hundreds of pictures, the farm home looking better and more homey every day. There was a small one-bedroom, two-story flat attached to the main house, and that would be where she would live. The flat had its own door that opened into an entryway, with a large, airy bedroom and bathroom off the hall, as well as a lockable door that opened to the main house. Up the stairs was the living room for the flat, complete with a fireplace and large windows overlooking both sides of the property. The living room also connected to the second story of the large main home.
The attached farmhouse had a large porch, with the main door to the house that opened into a massive dining room, which Sarah had painted a lovely blue. Sarah had worked with the arborists who had to take down a large, dying tree, connecting them to a furniture maker who had made slices of the trunk into an enormous live edge wooden table for the dining room. Nick had smiled to himself as she had described it to him over the phone, talking aloud about how she’d set the table and all the ways she’d use lavender to decorate each place setting. The dining room connected to a huge but older kitchen, with a door off the kitchen that stepped out onto another porch, this one overlooking the lavender fields.
Off another wall, the dining room connected to a parlour with two fireplaces, with original wood floors, the planks huge and smooth with years of use. A door off the parlour led to a hall, where you could either go up the stairs to four more bedrooms, or cross the hall to get to the fifth guest bedroom. The house had been built in the 1850s and was large and draughty and outdated, and Nick was continually amazed at how Sarah fixed and spruced and changed it. He hadn’t gotten a chance to go back for another four months with the rugby season, and he was truly astonished when he did.
Nick pulled up to the house, inhaling audibly when he saw the burst of colour as he navigated a bend in the road and the house came into view. The white of the farmhouse was brilliant against the sea of purple behind, Sarah’s plant cuttings clearly having taken root. The sun was setting and Nick admired the way that the purple of the flowers created a bright line against the pink of the setting sun and the deepening inky blue of the sky above. He parked and laughed aloud when his mum opened the door, gesturing to the blossoming fields.
“You send me 15 pictures of off-white paint colours to get my opinion and you don’t send me any pictures of this?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” laughed Sarah, hugging him on the porch.
“Well, I’m surprised,” said Nick, shaking his head. He should have known that she’d go into this as fully as she had anything else. She’d honestly been the one who’d made his rugby career happen - constantly taking him to and from practices and tournaments and training camps and one on one coaching. Clearly she had thrown herself into this with the same firm-eyed determination that she had for her sons.
“Come on, you need to see the rest of it, darling,” said Sarah, directing them into the house. She led Nick through all of the rooms, and he had been truly taken aback by the transformation. All of the beds were fitted with bright, comfortable-looking bedding and there were just tiny touches everywhere. Little vases of flowers, a few lavender eye pillows that Sarah had experimentally made using a sewing machine the former owners had left, and clocks with USB chargers, since, “I wasn’t born in the 18th century, Nicky.”
It all looked amazing. Well - except some of the pictures on the wall. Nick shivered at some of the black and white photographs, filled with Victorian-era subjects who seemed to judge every action Nick had ever taken in his life from their flat, glazed eyes behind the glass.
“Mum?” asked Nick, looking at one of the pictures suspiciously. He swore to god, if it winked at him, he was out of here.
“Yes, baby?”
“When are you going to replace the pictures?”
“Oh, I could never,” said Sarah, looking up the picture of the soul-stealing woman Nick was skirting around. “These are pictures of the original family who lived in the home! I have to keep them.”
“Because you’re too afraid of them possessing you if you try to force them out of here?” muttered Nick under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” said Nick, shuddering as he edged quickly away from where some other poultergeist’s soul was trapped behind glass.
That week, Nick had helped Sarah put the finishing touches on the house, working long hours. It had been the most time that they had spent together in years, and though it was wildly different from the nights out with his rugby mates, Nick honestly loved it. At the end of the week, they had stood together, admiring the gold-letter, wood-carved sign that Nick had hung up on the white post outside the house. It was time. Sarah had activated the website after that and taken an online course in marketing, and off she went, enthusiastically telling Nick about “SEO” and other terms that he never thought would come out of his mum’s mouth.
That had been ten years ago. So much had changed since then: Nick had made it to the Premiership rugby league, spending another five years in Sale before eventually landing on the Leeds Badgers team. That was where he’d found his starting spot and his home. It was a totally different team of lads than he’d played with in the past. Nick had never been lonely - he’d always had a ton of mates. But everything and everyone had always been a bit transitory and always centred around the same thing - rugby. Nick sometimes felt like he had mates, but he had only a few people who actually really knew him. Nick sometimes didn’t know if Nick really knew himself.
Regardless, the Badgers had ended up being home for him, and Leeds became home, too. The Badgers had ended up being a groundbreaking team when two of Nick’s teammates, Danny and James, had ended up coming out publicly as a couple during Nick’s first year on the team. That had opened the door for several other players in the league to come out and Nick had been incredibly proud of how the team had supported Danny and James - and just… each other. Nick wouldn’t have traded the Badgers’ middling results for any other team, even though he’d gotten offers from the top tier teams over the course of the years he’d spent in Leeds. It has been the right people. He’d met some of his closest friends on the team, Danny and James among them. He’d also gotten close with a lot of the team staff, including Amy, who was an overwhelming powerhouse of a woman in so many ways. Nick had become friends with Imogen, too - she had been one of their marketing professionals who was always game for a laugh. And of course, he’d been very close with his co-captains Trevor Wilcox (who everyone called Wilco) and Seamus Reilly, though Seamus had sadly been traded before the last year that Nick had been on the team. It was the first time Nick felt like he belonged somewhere. It was the first time that something had felt… permanent.
Nothing ever was, though.
Nick retired after ten years in the league, his body not up to the rigours of impact like it used to be at the old age of thirty-one. The head coach of the Badgers told Nick in confidence that he would be retiring after the next season, and Nick would come on as an assistant coach when one of the assistant coaches was promoted to the head coaching spot as was planned. Nick was thrilled - but also a little perplexed in the interim. He’d never not had something to do, and now he was faced with a full year and change before he had any obligations. Nick was truly anxious at the idea of not having anything for a year, and especially a year away from the only thing that had ever fully made sense to him - rugby. People and thoughts were perplexing and complicated, but rugby was simple, at its core. Rugby kept him out of his head, out of his stewing mind, and it had kept him tremendously busy for over a decade. Before he could get too mired in worry, though, Nick realised what he could, and honestly should, do.
His mum had been doing incredibly well with the bed and breakfast. She was booked up most of the year, with quieter periods in the fall and winter. Even with all her success, though, Sarah had consistently blocked out days on the booking calendar so that she was able to come to as many of his matches as possible, particularly those close to the farm, tucked into a lovely area of Hampshire in the south of England. She was a well-known fixture to the team throughout Nick’s time there, becoming a bit of a surrogate mum to Danny (whose family was in Australia) and other players who needed a maternal figure. She had proudly positioned the inn as an LGBTQ-friendly business after everything that happened with Danny and James, ending up with a queerer-than-average clientele. It was so essentially his mum - she loved to welcome people, especially those who might not have always felt welcomed in other places. The lavender fields continued to flourish, and Sarah was endlessly creative, selling her ever-popular lavender eye pillows, inventing and perfecting new recipes, and receiving rave reviews.
In his conversations with his mum during the last year that Nick played, he noticed how tired she sounded. She loved the bed and breakfast and the farm, but she had been working nearly nonstop for the last thirty-five years. She’d of course taken some long weekends off to see Nick or his brother David, but Nick couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a holiday for herself. They’d gone on family holidays when Nick and David were growing up, but Nick knew both that those had really been focused on the boys and that even those had been few and far between with how intense their sport schedules had been.
As soon as Nick had decided that he was going to retire and figured out the coaching role for the following year, he knew what he could do in the gap year. He could take care of the bed and breakfast for a year while Sarah went on a yearlong holiday, paid for by Nick. They had argued about it endlessly - or at least, Sarah had argued. Nick had been resolute and utterly impassable to all her protests.
- But it’s too much money, Nicky! (Nick had plenty, and Sarah knew that.)
- What would I even do for a year? (Go to Menorca and lounging in the sun, visiting her sister, going on holiday in Switzerland, travelling to Yellowstone National Park - literally all things she’d wistfully said she wanted to do for years.)
- What about Nellie and Henry? (Nick would take care of them, she knows how much Nick loves both of them and how much both of them love Nick, and Sarah would be back regularly between legs of her holiday to visit.)
- What if you get lonely, baby? (Mum, it’s literally a house full of people. And pretty much every one of the lads from the team have said that they’re going to come. Mum, that is very generous, but they do not need a discount; they make plenty of money.)
- Nick, do you… have any idea what it’s like to run a bed and breakfast? (No… but could it honestly be harder than tackling that massive prop on the Harlequins?)
He’d finally worn her down, and she’d admitted that she really did need a rest. Once she had worked through all of her worries, Nick saw a version of his mum that he hadn’t before - one that was focused entirely on planning something for herself. It was wonderful to see –this more rich view of who Sarah Nelson was. Apparently, one part of who Sarah Nelson was included the sort of person who was renting a camper van for the first part of her trip, a portion Nick did not see coming.
After a month-long apprenticeship in which Nick learned just what it was like to run a bed and breakfast, Nick had taken the helm. That meant Sarah had been there for the May and June lavender blooms and had taught Nick how to manage the harvesting, how to direct the local kids that she hired each year to gather the blooms and dry them, as well as how to press the lavender into oil. Sarah had taught Nick how to manage the online booking system and introduced him to the small team of cleaners who came twice a week to turn over the rooms. Nick had learned the routines that he needed to have with guests; how to welcome them in, what to recommend in the local area and the best response of yes, yes, you do recognize me from TV. (In the Venn diagram of people who stay at LBGT-friendly bed and breakfasts and people who were deeply immersed in rugby, the overlap was not huge, so Nick didn’t have to deal with too much attention, fortunately.) They’d spent hours in the kitchen together, Sarah reading him into her three-ring binder of recipes, all handwritten on scraps and sheets of paper and held together with plastic protector sheets.
In July, Sarah left with tears in her eyes, hugging Nick over and over and saying that she’d call often. Nick had been caretaking the bed and breakfast ever since, which was a mix of interesting, laborious, and boring. And honestly - fucking exhausting, too. Now that it was nearly October, bookings had slowed down tremendously. Nick was glad for the break - he had truly underestimated the amount of work that went into it all. Every morning, he rose early to make something for breakfast to serve to the two or eight or twelve guests he might be hosting any given day. Nick would chat with them, using his well-honed interviewing skills to put them at ease and provide light, breezy conversational topics. Then he’d clean (unless the cleaners were there that day) and tend to the fields and Nellie and Henry. He’d head back inside to bake a little something for any new guests arriving that day, freshen up rooms, go back to the fields and tend to the animals again, and then check in anyone who arrived that afternoon or evening. Nick would get something to eat, prepare whatever he could to make breakfast easier the next day, shower, and then fall into bed, dead tired. In July and through August, he went 43 days without a break before he had a single day where there were no guests. Nick had no idea how Sarah had done this for so long, uncomplainingly. Not that he was complaining. It kept Nick from stewing on the things that swirled in his brain when he had quiet moments. Body busy, mind quiet. And Nick was doing fine.
And now, on the last day of September, he stood in the field in the unseasonably warm sunshine, laughing at himself with the mud and dirt dripping down his face. Nick smiled to himself as he headed inside to clean up, shaking his head ruefully. There had been a stretch of guests coming all through September, though in lower numbers than in the summer months. His last guests had checked out yesterday, and Nick had enjoyed the 24 hours of quiet. He had two guests coming this evening, and something pricked at his brain. What was it about the guests coming tonight? He felt like there was something important…
Nick mulled it over in the shower, far too muddy to open the laptop and check the bookings notes. How the hell did Sarah stay ahead and on top of all of this? Nick felt like he was constantly scrambling to catch up, even with nearly four months under his belt. He dried off and changed, snickering when he picked up his phone to scroll through the team group chat, which he was still on. Fuck, he missed them. He missed playing. He missed… belonging to something. No, none of that - back to his phone. Nick sent the group back a picture of his muddy face from earlier, captioning it with, “Look! It’s a Jolly Rancher!”, knowing that it would make James and Seamus groan. He opened his laptop to check the reservation and felt his heart nearly skip a beat when he saw the entry.
C. Spring and B. Hope
- 7 nights (30.9.22 - 6.10.22)
- Arrival time: 9:00 pm - is that too late? Please let me know if it is.
- Email: [email protected]
- Contact: 07333 555 637
- Specific Room Request?: No
- Dietary Restrictions: No white sugar (B. Hope), Paleo (B. Hope)
- Is there a special occasion you’ll be celebrating?: It’s our honeymoon!
Honeymoon. Fuck. Fuck! Nick knew there was something for this reservation, and shit, he completely forgot it was for a honeymoon. Sarah always made it so special for people’s birthdays and anniversaries and honeymoons, and Nick had promised himself he wouldn’t do anything that would change the inn’s stellar reputation. Thankfully the guests were arriving late, which made Nick’s job much easier. It was only 6 in the evening now, so Nick would hopefully have time to get the room ready and prepare a treat to welcome them with.
Nick hurried to room 5, the largest room. It was the one that was downstairs and was most separated from the other guest rooms. Nick knew it would be best for honeymooning guests. He had learned that the hard way after Danny and James had come for a visit in August, finally banishing them to that room so the other guests could be less horrified by the noises coming from under the door. He scattered fresh lavender sprigs in a path from the door to the bed, and then put some on the bed. He tried to arrange them in the shape of a heart and accidentally squashed one when he leaned over, leaving a purple streak on the white linen.
“Fuck,” said Nick, shaking his head at himself. He considered for a moment and then just lumped a bunch of sprigs over that spot to cover it up, assuming that the couple would be less focused on the top of the sheets than getting under them. Although Danny and James hadn’t been much fussed about a bed. The amount of furniture he had found in various places in that room had been a perplexing thing to walk into. Nick set a few candles around the room and left a book of lavender-themed matches nearby to let the couple set some ambiance. Nick thought for a moment and then got one of the bottles of essential lavender oil that Sarah steeped and made, figuring he’d throw it in as a gift, setting it on the bedside table along with a bouquet of flowers with a “Congratulations!” card from the stash that Sarah kept. Nick dimmed the lights to give the room a romantic look, and would set a fire before the couple arrived. He paused for a moment, admiring the room. It looked cosy, welcoming. Nick pushed the niggling thought aside, the one that felt like a bruise, reminding him of that feeling when Danny and James had left. Not the reprehensibly loud sex (though Nick was slightly jealous of anyone who could let themselves go like that). But more so the closeness. Danny and James were just so… intimate. The emotional side, though. They truly knew each other and read one another, supported each other and were comfortable with themselves and as a couple. That was - that seemed really nice. Nick heard the clock strike in the parlour and jumped a little, snapping out of his daze.
Room job done, Nick hurried to the kitchen. He tried to have a baked good ready for when guests checked in on the first day, many guests mentioning that as something that made them feel truly welcome. He rifled through Sarah’s recipes, muttering to himself as he searched for something Paleo-friendly. He wondered who B. Hope was and if they knew that there were actually millions of true paleo diets based on where on the planet the palaeolithic people lived. Nick found a vegan lemon muffin recipe and threw them together quickly, popping them in the oven and then preparing some foods for breakfast tomorrow, chopping sweet potatoes and veg for a hash that he’d mix with chicken sausage for whoever this paleo person was. He stayed busy, mind focused entirely on the cooking and baking, body constantly moving. Nick looked up once when he heard tapping on the window, rain starting to fall. It got heavier while he worked, the rain now drumming against the window. Nick rolled his eyes, just so glad he messed with the irrigation today. Definitely worth it.
Nick pulled out the muffins when the timer dinged, grinning at the scent in the air. It was only 8:00, so he was a little surprised when he heard the timid knock on the front door. Sarah had a bright sign on the door that told guests to “Come Inn!”, but Nick knew that most first-time guests were shy about entering through the front door without being welcomed. Nick set the muffins down quickly on one of the trivets on the dining room table and threw open the door, really to usher in the happy couple.
Nick opened the door and saw a man about his age, maybe a little younger, standing there with his shoulders slumped. The man had dark hair, curls dripping. Nick could see his car in the drive behind him, its lights off, no movement, no one else with him and no one else in sight. The man’s long, slender fingers were wrapped so tightly around the handle of a suitcase that Nick could see his knuckles turning white. The man looked up, and Nick was taken aback by how blue his eyes were, rimmed with red. The man’s eyes widened a little when he saw Nick, and Nick wondered distantly if the man recognized him from rugby. But far more importantly, he wondered if the man was… okay. He looked utterly devastated, exhaustion and sadness etched into every part of his striking face. The man’s eyes met Nick’s, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“Hi,” said the man in a tremulous voice, his blue eyes looking watery.
“Hi,” echoed Nick, his voice catching, a little hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Welcome to Lavender Fields Bed and Breakfast.”
Notes:
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
Every chapter will include a Lavender Fields Bed and Breakfast recipe!
Vegan Lemon Muffins
Ingredients:
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 ¾ c gluten-free flour (regular works, too)
½ c almond milk
2 ½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
½ c + 2 Tbsp coconut sugar
⅓ c olive oil
2 Tbsp lemon zest
3 Tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla
1 Tbsp chia seeds
1 c fresh or frozen blueberries (optional)Preheat the oven to 375 F. Spray or oil a 12-cup muffin tin.
Combine almond milk and apple cider vinegar and set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk together flours, baking powder and soda, and salt. In a medium bowl, whisk together sugar, olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla. Stir in the almond milk mixture.
Add wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined. The batter will be puffy. Add in chia seeds and blueberries. Fill muffin tins ¾ full and bake for 16 - 17 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes before removing muffins.
Chapter 2: C. Spring
Summary:
Nick gets to know C. Spring, and Charlie gets to see some of Lavender Fields.
Notes:
Huge thanks to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork for their beta prowess! Wavey, you ask such perfect questions to get me to flesh things out and your flailing sends me to the moon. NSB, you have an incredible eye for language choices and you validate all of my stupid jokes. You are both delightful humans.
Speaking of delightful humans, if you haven't read Titanick by justhowfastthenightchanges, you are missing out. It is Nick-as-Rose and Charlie-as-Jack and is hilarious and totally bonkers. And then while I am a MONSTER who has yet to read Tea Leaves (it is next!) I have gotten to know the incredible author ImBackHereAgain and cannot wait to read and for their next work!
I had a wonder about the property, so added some cave-science drawings. Illustration is not my forte, but hopefully you can get the gist. https://imgur.com/gallery/lavender-fields-ao3-maps-M69UBOI
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Thanks,” said the man at Nick’s door in a voice that sounded so thin and brittle that it could have snapped in the air.
Nick stood for a moment until he remembered himself, opening the door wider to let the slender, medium height man in. “Is that - do you have any other bags in the car?”
The person who was probably either C. Spring or B. Hope shook his head. “No,” he said hoarsely. He didn’t meet Nick’s eye this time.
“Let me grab this one and just stash these over here quickly,” said Nick, never one to have been comfortable with silence. “And then you can come in, and I can get the kettle going and show you to your room and get you all set up. Have a seat for a moment, I know that road can be a little intense to drive in the rain. Did you drive separately?”
“Separately…” said the man slowly as he sat, saying the word like he was tasting it, the word a question in the air.
“You and the person you’re coming with? You’re the C. Spring and B. Hope reservation, aren’t…?” The query died in Nick’s throat, the man’s eyes welling back up, the blue eyes startlingly bright as they filled with hovering tears.
“We - yes. Sort of. I’m Charlie. Charlie Spring. C. Spring,” said the man, said Charlie. He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his face up towards the ceiling, a tear slipping out. “It’ll just be me.”
Christ, Nick had clearly already stepped in it. And now he’d made this man cry. In his bumbling awkwardness, he repeated the man’s words. “It’ll just be-”
“Just me,” said Charlie, his voice trembling. “We - this was going to be the honeymoon. Our honeymoon. But the wedding - the wedding didn’t happen.”
Nick’s heart jammed in his chest. He had no idea what to say. Had B. Hope… broken up with Charlie? Had Charlie broken up with B. Hope? Had B. Hope… died? Jesus, this was not in the book of instructions that Sarah had left, and he seriously doubted that Google was going to be any more helpful. “Is… are-” Nick truly had no idea what he was even going to say, but Charlie saved him.
“We… he called off the wedding last night.” Charlie’s voice broke on the last word, and Nick felt his eyes widen in shock. B. Hope had called off the wedding the night before? “And I know it’s stupid of me to still come here, but I was in the flat last night and today, and the idea of being there, alone, this whole week when we were supposed to be - I couldn’t… I didn’t want to be…” He broke off into a sniffling cough and then looked up at Nick, seeming to collapse in on himself a little. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be… god, this is pathetic, isn’t it? You don’t need to know this, and I’m just unloading this on you and ruining your night…” Charlie trailed back off, shrinking into himself and jamming the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“Hey,” said Nick softly, not knowing exactly what to say. He felt like his skin was a shade too tight. Nick wanted to fix this, make it better. Figure out the right way to make it better. “You are not ruining my night at all. And I - I totally get it. I do. And I’m glad… I’m glad you came. I’m glad that you’re here.” Charlie started a little at that, looking at Nick again and meeting his eyes once more before dropping them back down to the floor like he was trying to find hope in its honeyed planks. “It will be good that you’re here,” said Nick, a little more confidently this time. “A…change of pace? You know? And different. It’s different than your flat, I bet - we have fields,” he said stupidly, nodding. We have fields? Nelson, get your shit together. “Lavender fields,” he corrected himself. “It’ll be different from being at - at home for you. Change of scenery, you know?”
Charlie slowly stood, moving like his whole life hurt. “Yeah,” he said in a rough voice. Nick guessed he’d been crying the whole way in the car from how ragged his voice was. Charlie looked up at Nick through wet eyelashes. He was nearly the same height as Nick now that Nick took him in more fully, with long fingers, gripping his opposite forearms like he was trying to hug himself.
“Why don’t I - why don’t I show you your room?” Nick was feeling a little flustered. He’d never been in a situation like this before, and it was disquieting, his heart pounding as he tried to puzzle through how to handle this. “I can also give you a tour of the house, unless you’d rather do that tomorrow, you might be knackered…”
“I think just the room tonight…” Charlie trailed off, looking tiny and miserable, and Nick felt like an idiot.
“Oh god, yeah, of course. You’re probably…” Charlie was probably a lot of things right now. “You’re probably exhausted.” Nick crossed the well-worn floor of the dining room to get Charlie’s bag, rushing past him and catching a tiny scent of something like sandalwood as he passed.
Charlie moved slightly and extended out a hand to help, looking anxious. “Oh, you don’t need to - I can…”
“I’ve got it,” said Nick brightly. “Come on, I’ll show you to the room.” He led Charlie through the parlour, chattering as he did to soothe his nerves, pointing out the dairy farm certificate on the wall from 1861, then stopping briefly at the authentic cuckoo clock. Nick had a tendency to talk too much or not at all when he was anxious, and this time he had apparently turned the dial all the way to “Full Word-Vomit”.
“This fireplace is original to the house, but the one to the right was actually added about eighty years ago. There were two brothers who lived here at the time and they got so tired of arguing who got to sit in front of the fire that they actually just built a second one. And then they both liked the second one so much they both sat in front of it until the first one was so disused that when my mum bought this place and serviced the chimneys the first one hadn’t been used in so long that it had a mummified squirrel that she ended up naming Squentin and - ah, here’s the room!”
They were in front of Room 5, the downstairs room, Charlie’s face still seemingly processing whole embalmed-and-alliteratively-named rodent thing that Nick just had to bring up, didn’t he? Nick opened the door and let out a strangled noise when he saw the lavender petals on the floor and bed in a now-mocking heart, backing out so quickly that he stumbled into Charlie. Charlie yelped and Nick instinctively grabbed at his arm, steadying Charlie before he lost his balance.
“Thanks,” said Charlie, sounding a little shaken. “Is there… is everything okay in the room?” He edged forward as if trying to take a look and Nick bulled forward, lunging past Charlie and shutting the door.
“I forgot,” said Nick. “This room… broke.”
“It…?”
“I mean, the light broke. In that room. We have to go to a different one.”
“The light broke? Like… it needs a new lightbulb?”
“Yeah, broken lightbulb. Upstairs! I’ll show you your room upstairs!” Nick huffed out a breath as he hauled Charlie’s bag upstairs. Tomorrow he would go in and kill any semblance of romance in Room 5, in case Charlie figured out that the room wasn’t “broken”. A broken lightbulb. Come on, Nelson. He led Charlie to Room 3, the room that was the closest to the door that led to Nick’s little attached flat. It was the only room that Nick knew had fresh sheets; he had just changed them yesterday morning, in fact.
Nick opened the door and stood aside for Charlie to enter. “This is Room 3. You have your king bed here, and there’s a lavender eyemask in each of the beside tables. Tomorrow you’ll have a brilliant view of the fields.”
Charlie seemed to brighten for a moment, like a match that had been struck. “I saw pictures of the fields. They look beautiful.”
Nick smiled. “They are. They’re not blooming now, but still, even the plants are lovely. And you’ve got the woods as a backdrop, too. This side of the house gets the best sunsets. You’ll love it.”
“That was one of the reasons I booked this place, the sunset pictures that are online. It looked so romantic,” said Charlie. And then the match went out and Charlie sagged, the light dimming.
Nick felt like an overgrown boy not for the first time in his life, his hands large and fumbling, not sure what to do with himself. “Er, uh - yeah. It’s… nice?” he finished lamely.
“Thank you for showing me up here and taking my bag,” said Charlie. “I know it’s probably weird to have, just like… a person here alone. And thanks for putting up with me being so…” he trailed off, looking pained and swallowing hard.
Nick wanted to tell him that he wasn’t being so anything. He was clearly hurting, and by all accounts it seemed like his entire life had been upended in the last 24 hours. Nick wanted to tell Charlie that it was okay, that Nick wasn’t going to judge him. That he was allowed to be here. But he wasn’t sure what to say, what he could say. “I’m glad you still came,” said Nick, quietly and authentically. He really was. Staying at home, staying still in the face of overwhelming emotions and questions - that was Nick’s nightmare.
Charlie sat down on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and Nick knew it was time to go. “Just come down whenever you’d like breakfast. I’ll have the cold stuff ready and then whenever you want to eat, just come down and I’ll make the hot stuff.” It looked like Charlie’s jaw had tightened a little but he said nothing. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’m right next door and I’m - just let me know if you need anything at all.”
Charlie nodded once, and Nick backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Fuck. This poor guy. Nick felt exceedingly awkward and out of his element. He wanted Charlie to feel welcome and comfortable. He remembered the feeling of lost-ness after he and Marla had broken up after nearly four years. It had been amiable and mutual, but it had still set Nick feeling fully unmoored. With Marla in his life, everything made sense. He had rugby, a girlfriend, a mum. He had all of the things he was supposed to have. He’d checked all of the boxes off and been balanced, stable. Content. And then they’d broken up and even though it had definitely been the right call for both of them, it has still upset the balance of his life. Nick had to re-learn what his life was like without being inextricably linked with this other person. And that has been while still being friendly.
Nick didn’t know what had happened with Charlie and B. Hope, but he couldn’t imagine that a wedding called off the night before and one of the fiancés turning up to the honeymoon spot alone was an amicable breakup. Nick had to think that Charlie was just as untethered as he had felt, but maybe with layers of hurt or guilt or anger or all of those things. His stomach twisted with a knot of something hot and angry, thinking about how tiny and hurt Charlie looked. Nick wondered what B. Hope had done and just how much of a dick he probably was, on a scale of 1 to a massive knob. Nick hoped that he’d be able to help Charlie feel at least a tiny bit at peace while he was here. Or at least feel like he was away from whatever had happened.
He’d start with breakfast. Nick didn’t know how to fix a lot of things, but he knew that his scones had a pretty high success rate.
-
But Charlie hadn’t come down by 9. Or 10. Or 2. Nick was starting to get a little worried, honestly. He’d gotten up early from a fitful and restless sleep, unable to turn his brain off that evening, his skin still feeling a little too tight and hot. He’d cleaned up Room 5 first thing, gathering up all of the lavender and arranging it into a vase and setting the breakfast table. Charlie was now the only guest for a week, but Sarah had taught Nick that the quantity of people made no difference. No matter how many people there were and who they were, they deserved a lovely place setting and experience, and Nick was going to give that to Charlie. If he ever saw him.
Nick had prepared a bread dough and let it rise as he took care of Nellie and Henry before 8, then went back inside to bake the bread and start the scones. He had fresh fruit cut and coffee ready to brew; had the tea caddy out on the table with honey and sugar. With every hour, Nick paced around, visited with Nellie and Henry, ate (too many) scones, turned the TV on and off again and paced in front of it taking nothing in, debated whether or not to knock on Charlie’s door to check on him.
Was it really his business what Charlie did with his day in a bed and breakfast? No, it wasn’t his business. Hell, Danny and James hadn’t shown their faces until 5:30 pm one of the days that they had been there. Though that was decidedly a different situation… Should he knock? He genuinely wanted to know if Charlie was okay. But if it were Nick and Nick was alone in a place in the middle of the woods and then a burly strange man pounded on his door demanding to know how he felt - well, he could imagine that might feel a little unwelcoming, which was the opposite of what he wanted to do. Nick was idly sketching a contraption to rig a tiny mirror outside the window to make sure Charlie was, like, still breathing (as a joke) when he heard the telltale creak of the boards on the second story. The wooden floors were original to the house and gorgeous, though definitely not the most silent. Nick guessed the devil ghost children whose souls were trapped in the pictures struggled to sneak their 1800s girlfriends and boyfriends in.
Nick stashed his only-totally-entirely-unserious invention drawing in a Lavender Fields folder and stood up to go to the kitchen to allow Charlie a moment to walk into the dining room without having to immediately talk to Nick. Nick came back around the corner and acted mildly surprised to find Charlie in the warm dining room. “Hi, Charlie.”
“Hi Nick,” said Charlie, his voice perhaps even more gravelly. Nick’s room was on a different floor from Charlie’s, and he suddenly felt a stabbing pierce of guilt at the idea that Charlie may have been crying all night and Nick had had no idea. Maybe even when Nick sat upstairs scrolling through his phone in the living room just a few metres away from Charlie.
“D’you want some tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
“Got it.” Nick went back into the kitchen to start the coffee, and then came back out to the dining room, bowl of fruit in hand. “What are you feeling today?” Charlie’s face closed, and Nick immediately felt so stupid. “I mean, as in - what are you feeling like you want to eat today?” Fuck, thought Nick. Now he probably thinks I’m hounding him, trying to pry. And it is none of my business how he feels.
Charlie looked perhaps even more tense than a moment ago. “Oh. I’m not… I’m not hungry.”
“Charlie, this is a bed and breakfast. I’ve only given you a bed. If I don’t give you breakfast… what am I supposed to market myself as? A bed and… chair?”
Charlie gave an amused half-sniff. “Well, I missed breakfast. So if anything this would be a bed and chair and snack.”
“It doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?” Nick mused. He gave a half-grin at Charlie. One side of Charlie’s mouth tugged up at the corner, but it faded quickly. Nick felt himself frown a little bit at that, hating to see anything positive be so fleeting for Charlie. He went back into the kitchen and poured Charlie a cup of coffee, then returning with a pitcher of cream and one of oat milk, pointing out which was one was which to Charlie. Charlie thanked him and stirred oat milk into his coffee.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? I won’t even tell the bed and breakfast board that it’s past official breakfast hours,” said Nick, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Charlie sat his coffee down and stared into it for a moment, stirring his coffee with his long, graceful fingers. He started to say something, stopped. Tried again. “I’m a little… I don’t want to be…” He trailed off.
Nick tilted his head. “Seriously, I’m going to make something for myself, too. And I’m not fussed; I’ll eat anything. What types of things do you like?”
“Well, I… I don’t want to be a pain. I can be a little… like, a little particular about what I eat. And I know it’s annoying, so I don’t want to put you out and-”
“Charlie,” interrupted Nick. “Making food is literally part of my job here, one of the three meals is in the name of this place, as we’ve covered.”
Charlie gave another little sniff and a hint of a smile, but again, it was a whisper of smoke, disappearing in an instant. “I don’t know… maybe something kind of like… healthy and breakfast-y? Something easy?”
Nick snapped his fingers. “It’s a little cold today, I love a scramble on a day like this. What about a veg and tofu scramble?”
Charlie looked surprised, his eyebrows raised. “You know how to make something like that?”
“Of course,” replied Nick. “We get a ton of dietary needs here; I’ve learned how to adjust to loads of eating habits. Vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free…”
“Paleo,” muttered Charlie, gripping his coffee cup tightly. The untouched muffins were in an air locked container in the kitchen; Nick had been planning to put them out when Charlie came down for breakfast. Nick looked over and saw Charlie’s eyes, red-rimmed and brightly blue again, the tears glimmering and gathering by his lower lids.
Nick felt like he had stepped in it again, bringing up dietary restrictions. And now he’d reminded Charlie of B. Hope and his grain-free ways, even though grains had been part of human history for at least a hundred thousand years.
Charlie snorted even more loudly. “They have?”
Oh, fuck, Nick had not meant to say that out loud. But it had made Charlie stop looking like his heart was breaking for a minute, so he was going to lean the fuck in. “Oh, yeah. The whole idea that there was one Paleo diet is bunk, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” said Charlie wryly. “Ancient diets entirely depended on where early people lived and the seasons and their climates.”
“Right!” said Nick enthusiastically, accidentally waving the coffee pot in his happiness that Charlie had perked up a little. “And also, there’s the whole thing about eating like a population of people who died at 35.”
Charlie chortled a little at that, even though he still didn’t fully smile. “Yeah, they had it all figured out. Except the whole dentistry thing.” Nick laughed. “It’s kind of shit isn’t it?” asked Charlie, rolling his eyes. “It’s a very pick-and-choose mentality. He also drinks wine and claims that’s okay…” Charlie trailed off again and stared at the wall, deflating again, and Nick hated B. Hope. He felt Charlie withdrawing and felt a little panicky for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. He wanted this version of Charlie to feel like he could show up, the one who felt at ease enough to make jokes and talk.
“Do you want to… you want to see the recipe for the scramble?” Nick was the one scrambling, but Charlie looked at least mildly interested.
“Sure,” said Charlie, already getting up. He followed Nick into the kitchen, and Nick talked him through Sarah’s spiced tofu dish. Nick noticed Charlie’s face tighten when he took out his phone to write down the spice mix that Nick showed him, but didn’t say anything. Charlie was an attentive listener as Nick rambled on and on, diving into hundreds of tiny details that, in retrospect, Charlie probably didn’t care about. But that didn’t stop Nick in his unending quest to avoid silence, describing the farm a few miles away where Sarah got her eggs, describing the women who ran the farm and even talking about how much Nick loved the tiny coloured flecks on the eggs, and how it made him feel like the bed and breakfast was miles away even when it was just a quick jaunt to London. They had chickens on the farm, but they were mostly there for pest control in the lavender, so eggs were scattered around the farm, not just in the coops. Nick caught himself telling Charlie that, too, that chickens were a tremendous help in pest control and a way to reduce any sort of chemical treatments that needed to be applied.
Charlie nodded politely until Nick realized how long he’d been talking. Fortunately, the dish was nearly done and Nick told Charlie to go sit down to enjoy his breakfast. Charlie did and Nick refilled his coffee before going to the kitchen to serve up a plate for Charlie. Nick came back into the dining room with a smile and placed the plate in front of Charlie.
“Here you go! You’ll have to let me know if you like it.” Nick moved to go back to the kitchen to clean up. Charlie cocked his head.
“Are you… are you eating?”
“I probably will in a bit, yeah.”
“Oh,” said Charlie quietly. He picked up his fork and pushed at one of the pieces of vegetable before taking a small bite. “Oh. Ohhh, that’s good,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.
Nick grinned. “I’m really glad you like it. I’ll leave you so you can eat. More coffee?”
“No thanks,” said Charlie, looking up and watching Nick as he went to the kitchen.
Nick made his way to the kitchen and stood for a moment, taking a breath. It seemed like Charlie was perking up, at least a little, and that made him so happy to see. He knew it wasn’t going to be an easy week for Charlie, and Nick sort of half-wished there were other guests coming sooner. Poor Charlie, having to sit in this house alone with him. It was better than being in his flat, Nick supposed, but he imagined that it would still be a little lonely for Charlie. Nick thought about it as he washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, eating his own plate as he worked. He decided that he’d try to include Charlie in as many things as Charlie wanted this week - err on the side of being annoying, inviting Charlie to join him for as much as possible instead of leaving him largely alone, which he usually found that guests preferred.
Nick popped his head back around the doorway a few minutes later, glancing to see Charlie sitting with a little slump to his shoulders, looking at nothing. “Charlie?”
Charlie jumped a little bit. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to head out for a bit. D’you want a tour of the farm?”
“Oh,” said Charlie, sounding a little livelier. “I - sure. Yes, as long as that’s not annoying for you?”
Nick grinned. “I asked you.”
Charlie gave another ghosting whisper of a smile. “What should I - should I change?” He looked down at himself and Nick’s eyes followed him, looking at Charlie’s patterned green sweater, the planes of his chest visible under the soft-looking fabric.
Nick smiled again. “Definitely. Wear something you don’t mind getting a little furry.”
Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together. “…Furry?”
“You’ll see.”
-
Fifteen minutes later, Nick led Charlie around the property. They started on the backside of the house, the side facing the fields. Nick walked Charlie the long way around the car park over to the small pond, a few ducks scolding them indignantly and waddling away as Nick and Charlie approached. They ambled their way over to the fields, where the lavender was planted in neat rows on the slight slope, allowing the water to run down around past the house and down to the boggy land on the other side of the crushed gravel road. For now, though, they stayed on the west side of the house, strolling through the fields as Nick enthusiastically explained the lavender caretaking process - which honestly wasn’t too bad. The bed and breakfast part was definitely more demanding except when the lavender was in bloom.
Nick led Charlie over to large, airy shed on the edge of the lavender fields, wheelbarrows stacked outside. He opened the door and reveled in Charlie’s gasp when he saw the bundles of lavender, the scent swirling around them as soon as they stepped in. The shed was awash with purples and blues of dried lavender. Even though the colours weren’t as vibrant as they were when the lavender was freshly cut, the shed was one of Nick’s favourite places on the farm. Maybe in general. Here, he could use his hands and his body to make things. He could stay busy. He could create something, surrounded by quiet, brilliant brightness. Nick loved it in here. From Charlie’s face, it looked like he did too. They chatted as Nick showed Charlie how and where he pressed lavender and pushed a bottle of lavender oil at Charlie, ignoring him and scoffing when Charlie asked how much Sarah and Nick charged for it.
After the shed, Nick showed Charlie a few other small touches that Sarah had added close to the house, like the vegetable and herb gardens and the bird feeder that you could see from the window of the kitchen. The west side of the property done, Nick brought them across the street. This side of the property had a wide, sweeping lawn that ran on a gentle slope down to marshy land. On the edge of the marsh was a small gazebo. Nick had been thinking about running a cord down and stringing up some fairy lights for ages, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. The real fixture on this side of the property, though, was the barn. The barn was also original to the property, built in the 1850s. Built into the slope, the large barn doors opened to the main floor of the barn, the space filled with equipment and tools and a metric shit-tonne of other things. The back of the barn was stacked high with hay, and Nick showed Charlie the space to shove hay bales through an opening to the paddock below.
“What’s the hay for?”
Nick smiled and said nothing, just gestured for Charlie to follow him. Charlie followed with a puzzled-looking expression as Nick led them back out of the barn the same way they came in. Nick walked down the slope along the barn and opened the gate that circled the lower half of the barn and nearly all of the wide grassy area.
“What’s in there?” asked Charlie, looking both intrigued and a little apprehensive.
“Tigers,” said Nick promptly. Charlie coughed out a surprised sound that might have been a laugh and Nick grinned. “Just kidding. Snakes.”
“Makes sense,” said Charlie, with a half-smirk. “I remember learning in year 9 biology how much snakes love hay.”
“Hay, it could happen,” said Nick with a wink.
Charlie groaned. “Oh god, are you one of them?”
"Hilarious? Yes." Nick smiled. “Come on then.”
Charlie followed, still a little anxious. Nick watched his face as they entered the paddock and went to the underside of the barn, Charlie’s face shifting as he saw the girls amble toward them.
“Charlie, I want you to meet Nellie and Henry.”
Charlie looked up at Nick, his eyes huge and amazed and semi-terrified. “Are they - is it safe to go up to - OH MY GOD.” Charlie cut himself off as Nellie rubbed her huge head against his jumper that he’d changed into, leaving a path of tiny white hairs and latent drool. Both cows were crowding them now, Henry making gentle lowing sounds and Nellie focusing all of her attention on Charlie. Nick watched Charlie’s whole face and body relax as Nellie came back for more, rubbing her cheek up and down Charlie’s chest.
“Nellie,” Nick scolded. “That’s a little forward of you. You gotta buy him dinner or something first.”
Charlie laughed out loud and Nick jumped at the sound. He wanted to hear it again. “Oh my god, she’s adorable!” Charlie tentatively reached out his hand and hovered it over Nellie’s face.
“Go on, you can give her a pat,” encouraged Nick. “She loves getting her ears scratched. Oh, and gentle scratches around her eyes, too, she loves that.”
Charlie patted her neck and then gave her a few tentative pets on the face as she leaned into him again, demanding more and more attention. Henry was demanding the same of Nick. “Where - I can’t believe your mum has cows! Has she always had them?”
“Not until a few years ago,” said Nick. “Nellie was owned by some git down the road who wasn’t treating her well. My mum found out about it and said she’d leave without nailing the guy’s foot to the floor if he let her take Nellie. And then she read that cows get lonely and have best friends, so she reached out to a local rescue and found another cow who needed a friend - and we got Henry!”
Charlie opened his mouth to say something and then paused, hesitating. He gave a tiny lean and Nick laughed aloud when he saw Charlie tilting down to look under Henry’s belly. “Henry…but is - she has… the cow boob?”
Nick laughed again, louder, and Charlie grinned sheepishly. “Udders. Yes, Henrietta!” He gave Henry’s neck a loving rub. “Both of these girls are named after the dogs that my mum and I had over the years; they were both incredible.”
“That’s adorable,” said Charlie, smiling at Nick. It was the first time Charlie had fully and actually smiled, and Nick took in how it changed his whole face. It made his eyes even brighter, illuminated up his face, revealed the hidden dimples that Nick hadn’t realized Charlie had. His smile lit up all of Lavender Fields, and Nick never wanted it to fade.
Notes:
Spiced Tofu Scramble
Sauce:
½ tsp salt
½ tsp garlic powder
½ tsp ground cumin
¼ tsp chili powder
¼ tsp turmeric
Water to thinMix the dry ingredients. Add enough water to make a thin paste and set aside.
Scramble:
8 oz firm or extra firm tofu
¼ c thinly sliced red onion
½ c sliced red bell pepper
2 c chopped kale
2 Tbsp olive oil, divided
Mixed greens
Avocado slices
Egg, optionalPlace the tofu on a plate, then top with a clean tea towel or paper towel. Put another plate on top and place a heavy skillet on top of the upper plate. As the water is squeezed out of the tofu, drain it. While the tofu presses, heat up 1 T olive oil and sauté the vegetables with salt and pepper. Cook until just tender and set side. Remove the tofu from the press and cube it.
In the same skillet for the veg, sauté the tofu in 1 T olive oil until browned. Add vegetables to the tofu, add the spiced sauce, and gently toss. Season with salt and pepper. Serve on a bed of greens with avocado slices. Top with an egg if desired.
Chapter 3: Mess
Summary:
Last time: Nick met Charlie, who’s come to Lavender Fields solo, his wedding to B. Hope called off. Charlie meets Nellie and Henry and smiles for the first time since he arrived.
This time: Charlie and Nick get to know each other a little, and Nick shows Charlie more of Lavender Fields.
Notes:
My dear wonderful waveofyou and Nelliesayzbork - you've been an incredible support this week and I adore both of you so, so much. Your flailing comments in drafts make me want to turn this into Lavender Fields (Forever). You are also dirty-minded heathens who make my life bright and smutty. Never leave me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Unfortunately, Charlie’s smile hadn’t lasted. While they walked back to the house, Charlie laughing and brushing the cow hair (“fur”, he called it, to Nick’s delight) out of his sweater, his phone rang. Nick saw his face change instantly, the light leaving it, replaced by worry and nerves. Nick had quietly made his way inside to give Charlie privacy on the porch, but kept an eye as Charlie paced, looking distraught and apologising at least once (not that Nick was eavesdropping). Nick didn’t know the whole story, but if he was talking to B. Hope…well, then based on the few tiny pieces Charlie had shared, there was no fucking way that he should be the one apologising.
Nick happened to glance outside when Charlie finished his call, and saw Charlie looking down at his phone, looking frustrated and sad. Nick hated it. When he saw Charlie turning to come back inside, he nearly sprinted to the kitchen, not wanting it to appear as though he had been listening.
Charlie walked right through the dining room, and Nick could hear his soft footsteps going up the stairs. Nick wasn’t sure if he should check on Charlie or not. It wasn’t his business what guests did. Or how they were feeling. In a hotel, the front desk person wasn’t going to knock on the door of a guest and ask if they’d eaten enough or if they wanted to talk. As much as he wanted to offer to talk, he was hugely aware of crossing any lines in what was ultimately a professional, business-and-client relationship.
Nick stewed around the rest of the evening, completing the farm chores and eventually making dinner. He finally knocked softly on Charlie’s door around 8 in the evening.
“Y-yes?” called Charlie tentatively after a moment, in a ragged voice.
“Sorry,” said Nick hesitantly. “But I - I made some dinner and if you’re hungry, there are leftovers in the fridge that I labelled for you. It’s - vegetarian chilli? Mild? I brought some up, too, in case you wanted it.”
There was a pause and Charlie briefly opened the door. Nick hated the way his face looked nothing like it had in the barn, lit up by his glowing smile. Instead, he was the same C. Spring that Nick met the night before, exhausted and shattered-looking. “Thanks,” he said, looking briefly at Nick before looking down again. “I - you didn’t have to do that. For me.”
Nick tugged up at one corner of his mouth and gave a weak, crooked half-grin. “I have to eat, too, you know. I just made some extra - and I wanted you to have something. If you want it?”
There was something bright in Charlie’s eyes for a moment, and then it faded. He reached out to take the bowl that Nick was offering, looking up and meeting Nick’s eyes again. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” said Nick. “I, uh - tomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous before some weather moves in later this week. I was going to go for a walk in the afternoon. I can show you the area if you’re up for it. Maybe around two in the afternoon or so?”
There was that look again in Charlie’s eyes, some bright spark at the offer, joy in kindness. “Yeah,” said Charlie quietly. “I think I might be up for that.”
“Well, then - see you tomorrow,” said Nick, giving another half-smile before retreating to his room.
It took him a bit to fall asleep that night. He kept picturing the look on Charlie’s face when Nick offered him some food and invited him for a walk. Just being offered things as thought of - if small gestures like that had that much of an impact on Charlie, it made Nick think about B. Hope and how few of those he must have given. Maybe was still giving (or not giving, as it was); Nick didn’t know if they were still together or not, with the wedding called off or postponed or whatever. Regardless of the details, Nick drifted off fitfully, firmly feeling that Charlie deserved better than whatever he had been getting.
-
The next day, Charlie didn’t show up to breakfast again. Nick knocked softly on his door again and left a tray of toast, fruit, and yoghurt when he didn’t get a response before heading down to the barn and the fields to caretake the cows and crops. He ate his own lunch and was cheered more than he expected when he heard Charlie make his way downstairs at quarter till two.
“Hi,” said Charlie, seeming shy again.
“Hi,” echoed Nick with a smile.
“Is it - is it still okay? If I come?”
Nick gave him a half-look. “Charlie,” he said in a mock-stern tone. “Are you asking if it’s okay if you come on a walk that I invited you on?”
Charlie blushed and gave an embarrassed half-smile. “Well, I didn’t want to assume…”
“Assume you’re always invited, okay?” Nick smiled at Charlie and bent down to tie his shoes, straightening up to see the tips of Charlie’s ears looking pink. “You ready?”
They walked north along the road, Nick pointing things out as they went. Nick had an ulterior motive and a hypothesis he had wanted to test with this walk. Charlie had been cheered by Nellie and Henry, and Nick had a feeling that he was a sap for animals. There were two farms up the road within easy walking distance, and Nick led them in that direction. The first farm had chickens, pigs, and horses, and the horses were in the first, largest paddock.
When Nick and Charlie walked up the road paralleling the fenced, large paddock, a few of the horses nosed over curiously. Charlie looked at Nick, slightly askance. “Cows, now horses? Are you like, an ungulate whisperer?”
Nick laughed. “You don’t know what an udder is, but you know what an ungulate is?”
Charlie grinned and Nick saw his dimples again. He loved getting to see Charlie smile, even though it was fleeting, a stroke of lightning in a dark night. “Shut up.”
“No, not a whisperer, just someone who’s not above udder bribery.” Charlie groaned and Nick chuckled. He pulled some chopped carrot pieces out of his pocket and held one out in a flat palm to the closer horse, a brown-coloured one with a light tan mane and tail.
“Oh!” exclaimed Charlie, watching the horse’s lips move as if independently controlled to neatly pick up the carrot piece from Nick’s hand and crunch it down noisily. “Is that - are the owners okay with that?”
“Yes, definitely,” Nick assured him. “We know them pretty well. The owner’s adult daughter and her husband help caretake the farm here. They’re also cleaners for us at Lavender Fields. They’ve introduced me to the horses before. They’ve also told me their names, but I can’t quite remember which one is which. But look, they have like, a pecking order, see? This brown one is the boss, and then the black one is like the cool high school kid that all the other ones look to. And then that one’s the grumpy goth kid.” Nick pointed to a small Shetland pony who looked distinctly disgruntled, and Charlie smiled.
Other horses crowded around and pushed their way in, searching for more carrots. Charlie politely refused the offer to feed any of the horses, so Nick finished his carrot pieces. One of the horses, the enormous black one that was one of the ‘cool’ horses, kept nibbling at Nick’s pocket, trying to get his lips into Nick’s coat to seek out more treats.
“You’re pretty pushy for someone without a job or opposable digits,” Charlie told the horse matter-of-factly, and Nick laughed aloud.
They kept walking, past the chicken coops and the pig pens, which they could only see from a distance. As they walked, Nick told Charlie how brilliant pigs were and how they could be housetrained, and how he’d stopped eating pork (and beef too) after spending time at the farm, then rambled on about how he’d bought a bunch of poultry and plant-based cookbooks to try to keep his diet more interesting. They walked until they reached the next farm, and Nick grinned when Charlie exclaimed at the sheep. They were puffy and raggedy with their thick wool coming in for winter, and Charlie cooed over their short-haired faces, set against the greyish explosions of wool. A few of the braver ones pressed against the fence for face scratches, which Charlie willingly joined Nick in.
“Would you ever get sheep for the farm, do you think?” asked Charlie.
“I’m not sure,” said Nick. “There’s a lot to consider with them - you have to think about the shearing and all that, you know? There’s a lot of upkeep when it comes to sheep.” He paused. “Upsheep.”
Charlie snorted. “What about goats?” he asked, gesturing as they rounded the bend in the road and came to the goat pasture.
Nick whirled and pointed a finger at Charlie, stopping in the road. It was important that Charlie knew this, that Charlie knew the truth, even if it was hard to hear. “Never. Goats are assholes, Charlie.”
Charlie blinked and then burst out laughing. Nick hadn’t heard him laugh yet. Charlie laughed like he was fully in his body, and it was infectious. Giggly, warm. Nick felt warm, pleased by making Charlie make that sound. “What? ” Charlie choked out, still laughing at Nick’s assertion.
“You heard me,” said Nick, nodding emphatically. “Goats are utter, unrepentant assholes. Do they look cute? Sure, yeah. They’re less cute when you’re pinned in a stall because a goat unironically named ‘Angel’ keeps ramming its horns into the door every time you try to leave and you have to call your mum to help you like a child even though you’re a twenty-five year old man.”
Charlie laughed harder. “Speaking from experience?”
Nick grinned. “Friend of mine. Horribly emotionally scarred from his goat experience.”
Charlie giggled again. The walk back to the house was leisurely and lighter than before, Charlie asking questions about the farms around Lavender Fields and the inn itself, seeming genuinely interested in the answers (even if Nick did answer them in triple the words that were probably required). When they got back, Nick offered a tour of the house and this time Charlie took him up on it, looking in at all of the rooms and again appearing to be attentive to Nick’s answers.
They were nearly done touring downstairs when Charlie paused in the hallway between the parlour and Room 5, on their way back upstairs. “Uh, Nick?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Nick doubled back a few steps to stand with Charlie, who had stopped in his tracks.
“Who is that?” Charlie pointed dubiously to one of the demon picture people hanging on the wall.
“Oh, them!” Nick had come to an understanding with the horror-movie-in-the-making portraits several years ago. “Well, that’s Bloody Mary, this little lad is Murdery Marvin, this one is the Little Girl from the Ring, and she’s Annabelle Megan Leatherface.”
Charlie shuddered. “Ohmygod, Nick, do not make jokes about little girl ghosts. Do you know how terrifying that is?!”
Nick laughed. “I felt the same way about them when my mum showed me them for the first time.”
“And then what? They brainwashed you with threats about how they were going to pull you through the mirror in the bathroom unless you let them live here with you? Or did they already steal your soul and replace you with one of the mirror people?”
Nick laughed again. Charlie seemed to be coming more alive after the rough afternoon yesterday, and Nick was here for it. “We’ve reached an agreement. I agreed that I would keep them up when my mum was gone and they agreed that they wouldn’t make my head spin a full 360 degrees round on my neck.”
Charlie shuddered again and gave the pictures a wide berth as he hurried to follow Nick.
After Nick finished the tour of the house, Charlie headed out to pick up dinner, politely refusing Nick’s many offers to cook something for him. Nick felt distinctly awkward - he wanted to entertain Charlie when he was here alone, but also didn’t want to bother him. He guessed that if Charlie and B. Hope had shown up together they would have gone to town most nights, or maybe cooked in the kitchen that was part of Room 5, the only one with its own kitchen. But now Charlie was here alone, escaping or healing or processing, and there wasn’t much…to do. Nick didn’t mind the quiet of the farm as much since he had been so busy, but he started jotting a list of things he could show or share with Charlie to try to keep him from getting bored. He had an anxious feeling that he couldn’t shake, the idea of Charlie associating his unhappiness with Lavender Fields. Nick really didn’t want that.
Nick didn’t see Charlie again that night, but he heard quiet footsteps coming up the stairs as Nick sat in the upstairs living room. He considered opening the door to say hello, but stopped before proceeding, reminding himself that people come to a bed and breakfast for relaxation, not to make small talk with a needy host.
He was chuffed though when Charlie came down for breakfast the next day, drawn in by the smell of the scones that Nick had made. Yes, Nick had made a batch a few days prior, but scones were best fresh. And yes, Nick had in fact eaten all of the earlier ones.
“What’s in these?” asked Charlie, admiring the scone on his plate. “Sultanas?”
“Blackcurrants,” corrected Nick. “We have a bunch of blackcurrant bushes down by the marsh; we picked a bunch of them when they were ripe and dried them. They make incredible additions to scones.”
Charlie picked up a scone and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent. “Mm, this smells incredible.” He took a bite and let out a soft sound. “Oh wow. That’s really good, Nick.”
Nick grinned and turned away. “Scones are pretty easy,” he murmured, feeling the heat in his cheeks. He always loved a compliment about his baking.
Charlie took a bite, swallowed. “When you say we - who do you run this with? Your - wife? Partner?”
Nick laughed. “My mum.”
“Oh,” said Charlie. “So, I’d hope not your wife then.” He looked at Nick, a shadow of a smirk on his face.
Well shit, C. Spring likes to joke! “Oh, one and the same,” Nick replied breezily, making Charlie laugh softly. “No, this is actually just hers, really. I’m just taking care of it for a year.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Charlie. “What kind of job do you do that you were able to take off a year?” He paused, reddening a little. “Sorry, I shouldn’t…I didn’t mean to pry, or like - interrogate you. I-”
“No, not at all,” Nick said quickly. “I retired at the end of last season and then had a year before I’ll go back as a coach.”
“Last…season? You’re retired? You look a little young to be a pensioner…” Charlie gave another soft grin.
Nick chuckled, then rubbed his neck. Charlie must not be a huge sports fan. He always felt a little awkward covering this, not wanting to seem like he expected people to know who he was. Is. “I played rugby for a while, so I just retired after the last season. My body wasn’t quite up to it anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Charlie, looking a little stricken.
“Don’t be,” said Nick, again in a rush to keep Charlie from feeling uncomfortable. “Rugby isn’t like football, not as many people know about it, you know? And even with footballers, most people wouldn’t know them by face, just if they were, like, on the pitch…”
Charlie held up his hands gently and Nick let out a breath of a laugh. “No, you don’t need to make an excuse for me,” he said. “I’m not much of a sports fan. But it makes sense you were a rugby player, with your…” He turned bright red and mumbled something, then took another bite of scone. “These are really good.”
“Thanks,” said Nick. “I’ve helped with some ideas, but it’s my mum, really. She opened this place over ten years ago. She was always a good cook and baker growing up, but being able to do it full-time like this…she’s made incredible stuff. She shared all of her recipes with me when we worked to get everything ready for me to take over while I sent her on holiday, and there must be over five hundred that she’s collected all together.”
“Collected, in like - a cookbook?”
“No, I think that would be a dream for her, though,” said Nick. “It’s honestly just these big binders right now. It’s all hand-written recipes and things cut out of magazines and papers with her notes added. More manifesto than Martha Stewart, you know?”
Charlie smiled and chuckled. “Well, hand-written or not, her recipe is brilliant.”
“I’ll pass it along,” said Nick with a smile back. “What about you?”
Charlie seemed a little surprised, and Nick cocked his head. “What about…me?”
“Yeah, what do you do for work?”
“Oh,” said Charlie. “I work in publishing.”
“That’s so cool,” said Nick. “What do you…do? All I can picture is the old-timey printing presses like they had in the movie Newsies where you physically press the letters into stuff with, like, ink and hammers.”
Charlie laughed again. “Ink and hammers?”
“Yeah!” Nick demonstrated, miming hammering letters into paper. “Is this what you do?”
Charlie nodded. “One hundred percent,” he deadpanned. “The carpal tunnel is the real bitch of it.” Nick laughed. “No, it's a whole host of things. Reviewing manuscripts, editing, coordinating with agents and the actual operations side, with the printing - it’s like I’m the centre of a bunch of different spokes and communicate out to all of the different parts.”
“That’s amazing,” said Nick genuinely. “Where do you work?”
“In London,” Charlie replied. “Where we - where I live.” His eyes travelled down slowly from where he’d been looking at Nick, face alive and open, the joy draining out as he settled back into whatever hurt he was carrying with him.
Fuck, Nick had done it again. Charlie was - what, three? Four days post-breakup? Or…wedding call-off, or whatever? His whole life had been upended. Nick felt distinctly awkward again, but figured maybe Charlie needed someone to process with? “Do you…” Nick stopped, trailing off. Charlie’s eyes were downcast, staring into the coffee cup clutched between his graceful-looking fingers. “Do you want to…whatever happened, it sounds like shit. I’m sorry that it…did happen.” Nick felt like this was a mumbling, stupid thing to say. But he couldn’t think of anything else.
“It’s fine,” mumbled Charlie, still looking down. Nick wanted to tell him it wasn’t, that it wasn’t okay for whatever B. Hope had done. That it was okay to not be okay right now. Then he heard himself saying that.
“It…it doesn’t have to be fine, you know,” Nick said, echoing words that his old team psychologist had offered him in one of the two sessions he had done with her. He liked Lucy a lot, but she was big on journaling and introspection and other things that Nick wasn’t keen on. “It…you - it sounds like a lot changed for you in just the last few days.”
“I’d say that,” said Charlie with a half-wryly amused, half-sad little sniff. “We were - we were together for three years, engaged for six months. It was…short for an engagement, I guess. He said I-” Charlie cut himself off. “He needed some space, he said. Some time to consider what he really wanted. He said we can maybe talk when he gets back.”
“Back?” echoed Nick.
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “He went abroad for a few weeks. To clear his head, he said. He needed a break from…” He paused, trailing off again. “So, yeah. Hopefully he decides to talk to me when he gets back. Which I’m not sure…I’m not sure when that is.”
Nick seethed quietly to himself, feeling hot. So this B. Hope ends the engagement with Charlie, then jets off, then deigns to tell Charlie that he’ll “allow” them to talk whenever he decides to come back. Nick hadn’t known Charlie for more than a few days, but he already knew that Charlie was thoughtful and seemed so genuinely kind. Again, he didn’t know the whole story, but every tiny detail that Charlie let slip made Nick think that this B. Hope was treating a real gem of a man like shit. And Nick didn’t like it at all.
“Well,” said Nick finally, breaking the silence when he could bear it no longer. “I’m glad you still came here.” Charlie looked up and Nick saw that same look, the one that tugged at his heart. “Yeah,” said Nick, somehow knowing Charlie needed the confirmation, even without him asking. “I really am.”
“I am, too,” said Charlie quietly, before looking down again at his coffee.
Nick warmed internally at that, pleased again. “So I uh - I know it’s a little unorthodox for a bed and breakfast, but I make food for dinner for myself every night, too. Want me to make some extra tonight? Make it a bed and breakfast-and-also-sometimes-dinner? My mates James and Danny cook a lot and they sent me this lentil soup recipe that they’ve been loving.”
Charlie gave him that same surprised and gratified look. “That sounds…great. As long as it’s not-” He caught himself and held up his hands at Nick’s raised eyebrow in mock surrender. “Yes, I know, I know - you offered. Well - yes. That would be great.”
“Fantastic,” said Nick, giving him a quick grin before collecting his breakfast dishes. “Tonight, then.”
-
Late that afternoon, Nick was working in the lavender shed as the soup simmered, trying to get a few things finished before the weather turned; it was supposed to get nasty, and quickly. He packed some lavender neatly for a shipment to a local perfumery, then brushed off his hands and headed back inside. He’d been working, either cooking or cleaning or in the barn or shed, nearly all day, and he was going to reward himself with a little downtime, passing the time on his phone with a movie on in the background before bringing Charlie some dinner.
Nick swung in the front door and opened it to see Charlie fiddling with the electric kettle, making some tea. Charlie’s face seemed to brighten a little as he saw Nick, and he turned to properly greet him, the expression turning into a grimace as Charlie moved.
“Oi, are you all right?” Nick felt his hand automatically reach out towards Charlie.
“Oh, I’m fine,” said Charlie, unconvincingly turning a wince into a twisted smile.
Nick raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down. “Charles Edward Rupert? Er, uh, Spring? Are you lying to me?”
Charlie laughed. “No, truly, fine. I think I just twinged something in my back. I’ve been less active the past few days than I normally am and I think all the time in the car and,” his voice dropped a little like he was embarrassed, “in bed that I just have something going on.”
Nick didn’t blame Charlie at all for hiding in bed the past few days. Shit, he’d done the same before after some hard-to-read articles about his playing or captaincy. “Do you want a massage gun? For your back?”
Charlie looked up. “Do you have one?”
Nick scoffed. “I’m a washed up professional athlete. Of course I do.”
Charlie laughed and nodded. “Yes, that would be great. If it doesn’t put you out.”
“Come on, then,” Nick said, opening the door off the dining room to connect to his hallway. Charlie followed but then paused at the doorstep, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to cross the magical line that separated Nick’s quarters from the house. Nick held the door open until Charlie entered the landing, then led the way up the stairs, Charlie trailing behind. In Nick’s living room, he handed Charlie the massage gun and Charlie accepted it, thanking him. Nick saw Charlie’s eyes roam around the room, eventually settling on the shelf below the TV.
“Is that…an old school Nintendo 64 system?”
Nick grinned. “It is. Some of my rugby mates and I were super addicted to Mario Kart when we played. We had these Thursday night tournaments over at the flat of two lads on the team - the two that sent me that recipe, actually. I don’t want to brag, but I am pretty good.”
Nick saw a little gleam in Charlie’s eye. “Pretty good, yeah?”
“I mean…” Nick polished his nails on his shirt and Charlie laughed. “You up for a round? After you work on your back, I mean.”
“No, this is way more important,” said Charlie, his eyes looking lively again. Nick felt a little swoop, seeing Charlie look like that. It just felt so good to see him seeming - fuller. “Unless you don’t think you can take me?”
Nick scoffed. “Oh, I can take you.” He settled onto the couch and handed Charlie a controller. After three losses and a bowl of soup each for them in between rounds, Nick had his head in his hands, Charlie laughing. Nick has gotten his arse handed to him.
“Ohhh, so by ‘pretty good’, you meant ‘with the motor skills of an infant’, right?” Charlie was grinning at him, that menace.
Nick flipped a pillow at him. “My mum says the customer is always right. I’m letting you win so you feel like you’re right.”
“My mum said that you’re terrible at Mario Kart.”
Nick laughed loudly. “Well, tell your mum-”
“Oh,” said Charlie, looking past Nick, his eyes large and bright. “It’s snowing!”
“It is?!” Nick whipped around and got up to look out the western window at the lavender fields. Sure enough, thick, fat flakes were falling down. “God, it’s early, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” agreed Charlie, getting up too and hovering a few feet behind Nick, gazing over his shoulder. “Look how huge the flakes are, it must be right around the freezing point.”
“So pretty,” murmured Nick mindlessly. “Oh. Shit. Shit!” He groaned. “The cows! I need to head down to the barn.”
“Isn’t the door to their, um - stable? Barn? Isn’t that open? So they can come out of the snow, right?”
“Can, yes,” said Nick, already moving back towards the couch to pull on his boots again. “And Nellie will. But Henry - well, she’s not the brightest crayon in the box. She was named for a pug and has the brain of one; she’ll be looking up at the sky in confusion.” Charlie laughed. “Then she’ll stay out there and make a mess of the paddock and get covered in mud. It’s just so much easier in the long run to bring her in when it’s wet out.”
Charlie moved back to the couch, too, also pulling on his shoes. “Want a hand?”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” said Nick emphatically. “This is not your responsibility at all.”
“No, I can help,” said Charlie, already lacing. “You’ve done so much extra for me - like these dinners and stuff - and I’d kind of…I love that first snowfall? So I kind of like the idea of being outside in it for a little.” Charlie blushed a bit, like he thought Nick might think he was childish or immature. But Nick totally got it.
“I’m with you; it’s almost magic, right?” They both paused for a moment in their preparation and grinned, big dopey kid smiles, excited for the snowfall. “Alright, I mean - you’re welcome to come, but just as company. You don’t need to help me!”
-
“Ugh, somebody please help me,” Nick mumbled to himself 5 minutes later, digging his heels in as he tried to pull Henry towards the barn. She was enthralled with the snow and had leaned back on her haunches, refusing to come inside. She had a good thousand pounds on Nick and she wasn’t afraid to use them in peaceful protest against Nick’s snow-hating tyranny. “Hen. Ry! Come on !” Nick caught sight of Charlie grinning by the fence of the paddock, watching the age-old struggle of man vs. beast.
“Are you sure you don’t need help still?” Charlie’s tone was teasing and Nick shot him an exasperated look, laced with amusement.
“No, I got it,” Nick said, turning to face Henry again squarely. Nellie watched them from inside the warm, dry barn with curious eyes. “Okay, Henrietta. Help me help you. You do not want to get soaked. You do not want to get muddy. You do not want me to have to brush you for hours.. He tapped his forefinger against her forehead gently but firmly. “You. Are going. To get. Inside.” Henry gave him a baleful look that clearly told Nick that it was nice he believed in himself. Nick tried pulling, cajoling, and sweet-talking with treats, but Henry was steadfast.
Finally, Nick positioned himself behind her rump and pushed his shoulder into her rear, punctuating each word with a drive of his shoulder. “Henry. Anne. Nelson. Get. In. The. Barn!” Nick gave another huge push, and his feet slipped on the slick mixture of mud and grass, churned up by the cow’s hooves on the wet ground. He hit the ground with a disgusting squelch, immediately soaked and immersed in a thick blanket of mud.
“Oh, shit!” he heard Charlie exclaim. Charlie picked his way over, where Nick was trying to get up on the slick ground, torn between amusement and regret at his life choices. “Are you okay?” Nick shook his head at himself, laughing, and Charlie joined in once he saw Nick was all right. “Here, let me…” Charlie extended a hand to help Nick, and Nick took it. Charlie gave a heave to help Nick up, but Nick’s weight was too much for Charlie’s tenuous purchase on the ground. He lost his balance, Nick slipping back as Charlie fell too. Charlie landed half on Nick’s legs, his hands sinking deep into the mud, more splattering over both of them.
“Oh my god, Charlie, are you okay?” Nick scrambled up and over and was relieved to see Charlie shaking with laughter.
“We are…fucking messes,” said Charlie, shaking off his hands and flinging mud everywhere.
They both raised themselves to their knees and laughed harder, looking at one another, utterly covered in mud. Henry gave them a long-suffering look and then ambled inside the barn, making both of them dissolve into giggles again.
Nick got up and firmly shut the barn gate, then helped Charlie to his feet.
“I thought you said goats were assholes,” said Charlie, making Nick snort and giggle.
“Yeah, I’ve always thought that one was a hybrid anyway,” said Nick, shaking his head.
They went back inside and Charlie excused himself upstairs to shower. Nick waved off Charlie’s apologies for any mud or hay that got inside, even with his shoes off, insisting it was his fault and that Charlie had no obligation to help him with the farm chores. Nick rinsed quickly himself before changing and going into the kitchen to figure out something for dinner, rummaging around in the refrigerator. He could hear the water still running in the pipes, Charlie apparently still in his shower. Nick idly wondered if it was harder to take care of curly hair and if Charlie needed any sort of special product for the shower that he should buy. He realised suddenly that this was Charlie’s fourth night at Lavender Fields - he only had three more days before he left. Nick wasn’t surprised to find that he was a little saddened by that - his mum had always talked about how she just felt a connection with some guests and thought of them more as friends than as customers.
There weren’t any guests registered for a few more days, so Nick was a little surprised to hear a knock at the door. Lavender Fields was on a smaller country road, so besides the neighbours, unexpected visitors were less common. He made his way to the door and opened it, taking in the sight of the dark-haired man who stood there, looking annoyed and a little damp with the unseasonably early snow melting quickly on his head and clothes.
As Nick opened his mouth to say something, the man looked at him with a slight scowl, not waiting for Nick to speak first.
“Is Charlie Spring here?”
Notes:
Buttermilk currant scones
Scones:
3 c all-purpose flour
⅓ c sugar
2 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¾ tsp salt
12 Tbsp cold butter, cubed
1 c buttermilk
¾ c currants
1 tsp grated orange peelGlaze:
1 Tbsp cream
¼ tsp cinnamon
2 Tbsp sugarPreheat the oven to 425 F. Line a baking pan with parchment paper.
Combine the flour, sugar, baking powder and soda, and salt with a fork or whisk. Cut the butter into the flour mix with a pastry blender until it looks like crumbs. Add buttermilk, currants, and orange peel. Form into a ball and knead on a floured surface 12 times. Pat the dough into a circle about ½ inch thick onto the parchment paper-lined pan. Brush dough with glaze (below) and then cut into 18 pie-shaped pieces. Bake for 12 minutes until brown.
Mix all ingredients together and top the scones before baking.
Chapter 4: Visiting
Summary:
Last time: Nick and Charlie got to know each other a little more before a stranger arrives.
This time: Unexpected visitors lead to new conversations.
Notes:
My absolute darlings waveofyou and Nelliesaysbork - you two make long workdays so much brighter with your comments, kindness, and utter depravity. Wavey has another Narlie Waves chapter coming soon and there might be a familiar face or two in there 😘 NW is a brilliant story and I am sure you're itching for more just like I am! NSB has a new work that they are developing and get ready; it’s delightful. I cannot wait until it’s ready, since NSB had something called “self control” and can wait to post until a thing is done. I do not identify.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick straightened up and made himself as large as possible, filling the doorway with the bulk he still carried from rugby. He crossed his arms and glared at the man, hating him already. “B. Hope?”
The man’s scowl deepened even more violently, somehow. “Bee what? B…Oh. Ben Hope?” Nick nodded, unwilling to move an inch. He was not going to let this arsehole near Charlie Spring. “What? No. Tee Zoo.”
“Tissue?” Nick made it a question, and the man seemed to get even more annoyed.
“T! Tao! Tao Xu! That’s my name, you numpty!’
“And you are…?” Nick still wasn’t moving.
A woman hurried up, breathless and looking anxious, clutching a beanie-style hat that she shoved at the man standing in Nick’s doorway, the man taking it without breaking angry eye contact with Nick. Nick held his eyes for a second more before he shifted his gaze to look at the woman instead.
“We’re Elle. Elle and Tao. Charlie’s friends from London. Charlie Spring?” She grabbed the arm of the scowling man and he looked at her, softening a little. “Is he here, please?” She looked back at Nick, her face open but her eyebrows tugged together with concern. “We’ve been so worried about him after everything that happened with Ben, and then he just left and he hasn’t called us back…”
Ben. B. Hope. Well, there was a full name for Nick to hate now. Nick relaxed a little. Enemies of B. Hope were friends of his. But still, he had a duty to protect Charlie, protect his privacy. As a customer of the bed and breakfast. “Let me…let me see if he’s here.”
“I see his car here in the drive,” interjected the man, Tao, loudly.
“Tao,” said Elle firmly.
“What?”
“Just…nevermind. Yes, thank you. Do you mind checking with him to see if he’s okay to see us?” Elle looked at Nick with honest eyes, and he immediately felt like he could trust her.
“Yes, sure,” said Nick. He was torn between politeness and wariness, wanting to invite these people out of the cold but still sceptical of anyone from Charlie’s life. All he knew about Charlie’s life was Ben, and Nick did not like that part of Charlie’s life. But British decorum won, and Nick heard himself inviting Elle and Tao in, offering them chairs in the dining room, the closest ones to the door. They sat, Elle thanking him and Tao eyeing him like a judgemental, human-sized cat.
Nick made his way upstairs and knocked softly on Charlie’s door. After a moment, Charlie opened the door, smiling softly. His curls were still wet and he looked brighter, cheeks glowing from the cold of the barn escapades and his recent shower. Nick distantly clocked a towel hung up across the room and Charlie’s clothes laid out to dry, hanging off of various pieces of furniture.
“Hi,” said Charlie, the soft smile still there.
“Hi,” echoed Nick, smiling back. He remembered himself and why he came upstairs, and wanted to be very aware of Charlie’s potential reaction. “Uh, there are some people here to see you,” he said. Charlie’s face immediately drained of colour and Nick hurried on. “It’s…they said their names are Elle and Tao? They said they…they were worried about you and came in to check up on you. I told them that I’d check to see if you were ‘here’,” Nick put air quotes around the word “here” with his fingers. “So if you’re not ‘here’, you can let me ‘know’ and I’ll tell ‘them’.” He tried to smile reassuringly at Charlie, whose face had relaxed marginally.
“No, I’m…I just can’t believe they’re here,” murmured Charlie, looking down, seemingly at nothing at all. “I’ve been such a bad friend and they’re still…” He looked up, meeting Nick’s eyes again. “Did they seem…angry?”
“Angry?” Nick repeated. “No, not at all. They seemed - worried. Well, Elle did. Tao seemed like he wanted to stab me with a Lavender Fields fork.”
Charlie snorted and Nick was proud of himself for lightening the moment and making Charlie laugh. “That’s just RTF.”
“RTF?”
“Resting Tao Face.” Nick laughed quietly and Charlie went on. “Yeah, they’re two of my best friends in the world. I’ve seen less of them the past few months and I feel like…”
“Hey,” said Nick softly. “Whatever’s going on, they’re here, and they seem to want to see you. Do you want to see them?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie hoarsely. “I really do.”
“Then let’s make it happen,” said Nick, flashing Charlie a warm grin.
Charlie’s mouth curved up at the corners, and Nick watched his face transform, loving the way Charlie’s face looked when he felt comfortable. He followed Nick down the stairs and to the dining room, and Nick stepped aside as Charlie rushed towards Elle, both of them dissolving into quiet tears, holding each other. Nick couldn’t unobtrusively leave without ruining the moment, so he quietly went into the kitchen and tried to focus on cleaning and preparing for the next day. He could hear Elle and Tao talking with Charlie, asking him how he was and how he had been, if he had been okay. Nick felt his heart swell when Charlie replied that he was doing all right, that he was really glad he had come to Lavender Fields, and that he felt safe here.
Nick waited a few minutes for a lull in the conversation before coming back out to the dining room with a teapot and mugs, which he put in front of everyone, Elle and Charlie thanking him. He retreated to the parlour to clean a little so they could enjoy their tea in peace and so that the room looked presentable, feeling Charlie’s eyes follow him as he disappeared. After he’d neatened everything as much as possible, he finally went to head back to the dining room to collect dishes, coming in on a quiet moment where no one seemed to be talking.
After a pause, Nick asked if Elle and Tao were hungry.
“Oh my god, I am starving,” said Tao.
Elle rolled her eyes. “We literally ate before we left London?”
“Yeah, but that was like three hours ago.”
“I made some soup,” offered Nick. “Would anyone like some?”
Charlie looked at Nick, and then to Elle and Tao. “It was amazing; you have to try it. Nick is an incredible cook. And baker.”
Nick flushed an embarrassing colour, pleased that Charlie praised his cooking in front of other guests. That was good for Lavender Fields.
Both Elle and Tao said they’d take some, and Charlie asked for more as well, which made Nick glow again.
“Are you going to have some, too?” asked Charlie. “If you are, come join us.” Nick hesitated, knowing Charlie probably wanted to catch up with his friends. Charlie seemed to catch on to his delay. “Please,” said Charlie with a small smile. “I want you to join us.”
Nick thought he caught a little hesitant look between Elle and Tao, but Charlie’s invite had convinced him. If it was going to make Charlie happy, he’d do it. “Alright,” said Nick, getting up. “Feel free to head into the parlour, everyone, I can bring it in there. It’s more comfortable to sit.” He headed into the kitchen as the group ambled off to the parlour, Nick grinning to himself as he heard Charlie point out a few of the antiques in the dining room to Elle, repeating some of the 15,000 words Nick had told him during their tour. Nick put together a tray and carried it to the parlour, handing everyone their soup and settling into one of the armchairs, the furthest one away from the trio.
For a few minutes there was relative quiet as everyone ate, punctuated by appreciations about Nick’s cooking. They finished and Elle sat down her bowl, looking at Charlie expectantly.
“Charlie,” she said gently, her brown eyes looking at him. She reached out and took his hand, sliding a little closer on the couch. “Are you okay?” Nick’s heart ached a little bit with how much was in the question. The way she asked it, she was really asking - it was clearly a loaded question, and she had put so much care and concern into those three words. Nick let his eyes flicker to Charlie for a moment, seeing the sigh that went through his whole body. Charlie didn’t respond, and Nick watched Elle. Clearly, she knew Charlie well.
She tried again, in a calm and soothing tone. “Let’s start with if you have a place to stay when you go back to London.” Nick looked up sharply, reminded again that Charlie was leaving soon. Also - what the hell? What had happened that made Elle even consider asking if he had a place to live? Had Ben ended the engagement and kicked Charlie out? Nick pictured one of his rugby tackles from a 2016 Saracens match that made the highlight reel. He’d love to dole one of those out to B. Hope. He looked at Charlie in concern, waiting for his response.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, looking down at his hands, his voice quiet. “He said he’d let me stay in the flat until he got back-”
Tao and Nick erupted at the same time, Nick unable to hold his tongue.
“That dicknozzle said he’d let you stay?”
“What the fuck; who is this piece of shit?!”
Tao and Nick caught each other's gaze briefly and Nick saw Tao give him a tiny, almost imperceptible nod and Nick felt like he’d passed a test that he hadn’t realised he was taking.
Charlie started at their reactions, but looked a little heartened, too. “Well, yeah - I mean, he is still paying half and he won’t be there for the month, so at least he’s still paying for part of it…”
Elle’s brow was furrowed. “Charlie…wasn't that your flat first? That he moved into?”
“Yes, but we’re both on the lease now…”
Both Tao and Nick started to talk loudly again and Elle shushed them both, waving for Charlie to go on, though she looked angry as well.
“Anyway…he said that I could have the flat for the month. Or until he gets back.”
“Oh, sure, whatever’s convenient for him,” muttered Nick quietly enough for only Tao to hear him, who snorted.
“And then what, Charlie?” asked Elle gently. “He comes back and…what?”
“I don’t know,” whispered Charlie, looking miserable again. Nick felt like he could see the light slipping out of him as Charlie sat in Elle’s question, considering possibilities. Nick knew the idea of pulling the plug on a long-term relationship was daunting. But it legitimately sickened him to think of Charlie getting back with this person, this Ben. Charlie took a breath. “I don’t know what it looks like, honestly. I mean, I don’t like…well, everything that happened…I don’t know.” He looked down and Elle and Tao glanced at one another, one of those wordless exchanges that Nick had seen Danny and James do a million times. “But I want…I would need things to change?” He said it as a question and Nick felt his stomach twist. Change was one thing to hope for, another to expect. When people show you who you are, believe them, Sarah had always said.
Elle pursed her lips and Nick felt her energy change, like she was on the literal edge of her seat. “Change?”
Charlie nodded slowly and took his time before answering. “Yeah,” he said, looking up at Elle’s face, the worry and love clear on it. “I don’t want to be with someone who thinks I’m…” Charlie paused, looked down at his hands again. “I…the past few days, I’ve thought a lot about it, and…and I realised that no matter what, calling off the wedding the night before…” He trailed off again. “I think I deserve an apology about that to start.”
“YES,” said Nick and Tao almost together, making it sound as though there was an affirming echo in the room.
Charlie looked up at them both, met Nick’s eyes, looked down. “And I need…I need the way we talk to change. How…we talk to each other.” Nick caught sight of Tao rolling his eyes at that. Nick had a sense that only one of them needed to change how they spoke to the other. “And if he - we - can’t do that, that’s not someone I want to be with.” Charlie took a breath. “So we’ll talk when we both get home - get back.” Elle was looking at Charlie with emotion in her eyes, but Tao spoke first.
“Get rid of him,” Tao said crossly, and Nick wanted to toast him with his empty soup bowl. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but he sucks.”
“What Tao means,” said Elle, giving Tao another look and then glancing back to Charlie with warm, worried eyes, “Is that you deserve better. Definitely better than how he’s treated you. You do.”
“Maybe,” mumbled Charlie, and Nick felt his heart twinge, wanting to tell Charlie that he did deserve better. Tao and Elle exchanged another look as Charlie looked down at his lap and the room fell silent. Nick hated silence. He willed Elle to press Charlie more, maybe ask for what B. Hope would need to do differently. Make it less nebulous. But Elle seemed to not want to push Charlie, maybe just in front of Nick at least, he thought. He suspected there might be more talking when he made himself scarce in a few minutes to leave the friends to properly catch up.
Nick cleared his throat, a rumble in the quiet. “Uh, Elle and Tao - are you two staying the evening?”
“Yes,” said Elle immediately. “If you have rooms available, I’d love to book one for us.”
“Sure,” said Nick. “It’s just me and Charlie right now.” He felt a blush rise in his cheeks for no reason; that felt like an intimate-sounding thing to say even though the statement was entirely innocuous.
“We can only stay two nights, unfortunately,” said Elle apologetically to Charlie. “We have to get back; I have some client sessions that I’m not able to cancel on Friday.” So, it seemed like Nick would have one final night of just Charlie as a guest; no one else was registered until Saturday. That would be nice. Charlie was one of those guests he just connected with, like his mum had mentioned. Maybe he’d see if Charlie wanted something special for breakfast that last morning before he left.
Nick immediately went into bed and breakfast host mode, asking after Elle and Tao’s luggage and bringing their stuff (rucksacks only, it seemed like they had left in a hurry) to the room next to Charlie’s. He cleared the dishes and got the kettle going, excusing himself to let the three friends chat without him there as a stranger, lingering.
The next morning, Nick got up early to clean the common areas (he hadn’t had the cleaners come since it was such a light week) and prepared a vegetable frittata, thinking it was something Charlie might like and that he hoped Tao and Elle would be okay with. They all came down together, Nick setting Elle and Tao up in the room next to Charlie’s.
Charlie and Elle asked Nick to join them for breakfast and he finally acquiesced, surprised, after Tao gruffly said, “What, you’re just going to eat alone in the kitchen like a weirdo? Just sit.” Everyone enjoyed the food, and Charlie seemed brighter that morning, telling his friends about the farm and the inn, and telling them that he’d give them a tour later, looking at Nick as if to confirm that was okay.
Nick smiled broadly and nodded, pleased that Charlie wanted to show off Lavender Fields. He did the dishes while Charlie showed them the house, scurrying past the Murderer’s Row of satanic portraits on the way upstairs. He shyly asked Nick to give Elle and Tao a tour of the property and barn, which Nick enthusiastically agreed to.
He led them around the property, chatting away as he pointed out where various memories and mishaps had happened, including the time that several of the rugby lads had gone sledding when Nick brought a group during a bye week, getting too much speed and crashing through a section of the fence on the lower paddock. Nick would never forget the sight of four hulking, sheepish men mumbling apologies to Sarah, holding the broken wood like an apologetic offering with heads bowed. Sarah had just laughed and handed out hammers, pointing out where the store of extra boards was in the barn. Nick loved his mum so much.
Tao lagged behind once they crossed to the back of the house and walked past the lavender fields, cocking his head.
“What’s up?” asked Nick, stopping and waiting for him while Elle and Charlie went towards the lavender shed, arm in arm.
“This setting,” said Tao thoughtfully. “The lavender fields and the woods and the amount of sky you see - this is just a really great image.” He looked at Nick, seeming to read his confusion. “I do a lot of consulting for advertising and marketing campaigns - the artistic side. The setting you have here would be great for a lot of adverts, honestly.”
“Oh,” said Nick, nodding like he understood how any of that worked. He’d done plenty of campaigns for the Badgers when he played, of course, but that was generally a lot of standing and smiling-while-looking-tough-but-still-look-approachable-and-actually-can-you-flex-just-a-little-yeah-just-like-that-great-we-got-it.
They made their way down to the barn, where Elle exclaimed over the cows and Henry, that absolute wench, made giant sweet cow eyes at her and pretended like she’d never done anything wrong in her entire bovine life. Nick shook his head at her and her tiny stubborn brain, even as he gave her some affectionate pats.
In the afternoon, Tao and Charlie decided to go for a walk while Elle elected to go to the gazebo and draw, saying that she was inspired by all of the sights of the farm. Nick hauled down a chair for her, Elle thanking him profusely, and then left her to her task.
An hour later, Nick had cleaned everything that he could and the house was empty, just him and his thoughts. That wouldn’t do. Nick turned on the kettle and prepared another little tray, set with tea, sugar, milk, and one of the blackcurrant scones from the day before. He made his way down the gazebo, Elle looking up with a warm smile as he approached. Nick took a moment to appreciate the scene - Elle was beautiful, and she cut a striking figure in a purple sweater against the bright green of the marsh, the colour of the plants not yet quietly draining away in preparation for the winter. The early snow the day before had given way to a sunny day today, and clouds chased each other across the sky, their patterns rippling on the grass. It was moments like this that made Nick so appreciative of getting to spend this year at Lavender Fields. It was peaceful and rich and gorgeous, and he loved sharing it with other people. With guests.
“I thought you might like a cuppa? It’s still a bit cold…” Nick handed the tray to Elle, who took it and put it on the wide railing of the gazebo.
“Thank you so much, Nick,” she said, her voice kind and welcoming.
“I’ll grab that whenever you’re done; just leave it,” said Nick, turning to leave with a smile.
“Come sit for a few,” said Elle, gesturing to the railing. “I’m so appreciative of what you’ve done for Charlie. It’s been…well, it’s been tough for him lately, and he said how wonderful you’ve been while he was here.”
Nick flushed again for the umpteenth time in several days. Maybe he was getting ill. “I didn’t…I really didn’t do much,” he said, wanting to be honest.
Elle breathed out, pausing before responding. “You might think that,” she said quietly. “But I guarantee Charlie doesn’t.” She let that hang between them for a few seconds, the silence stretching unimaginably long.
After four excruciating seconds, Nick couldn’t take it anymore. “What… how do you mean?”
Elle sighed and sat down her mug. She looked at Nick appraisingly, and he felt himself unconsciously sitting up straighter. Then she gave a tiny nod as if she had decided something. “Charlie…well. Charlie’s never realised how incredible he is. Like - ever. We all went to secondary together,” she explained. “We all found each other and had this amazing little group, us and a few others, and I feel like he felt safe, but he was still…small. Like he was afraid of taking up too much space.”
Nick nodded. He’d seen that already in some of the interactions with Charlie, like Charlie was apologetic for, well…everything.
“And then he and I went to uni together - Tao didn’t go far away from us - and you know, Charlie did the whole self discovery thing. He had come out in secondary but then uni was a fresh start, no little toerags who’ve known you since year 7 and think that fact gives them the right to comment on your life, do you know what I mean?”
Nick snorted ruefully. There had been one real wankstain like that on the Badgers before an ugly moment he caused with Danny and James. He knew the type.
“And then in his twenties, he started to blossom, even a little bit. Well, some. He dated a few decent guys, but it never lasted. But still, you could see him get a little more confident and lean into himself a bit. And then…” Elle trailed off and Nick saw her jaw tighten a little.
“Ben?” asked Nick.
“Yes,” said Elle, frowning. “Ben. He’s…” She looked at Nick frankly. “He’s handsome. And can be incredibly charming. He made Charlie feel like he - Charlie - was so lucky to get to be with Ben. And he’s never got tired of reminding Charlie that.” Nick felt a hot vise of anger wrap around his stomach, squeezing. He pictured a faceless Ben, thinking that Charlie was never enough. That Charlie was just so fortunate that Ben settled for him. Nick hated him. “And then - well, oh, I’m sorry.” Nick looked up, a little perplexed. “I shouldn’t be unloading on you like this,” Elle said, looking apologetic. “This isn’t yours to have to hold. And I really shouldn’t be telling you Charlie’s business.” She took a breath, sighed. “But I’ve hated to see it.” She looked down at her hands. “It’s like…Charlie can’t ever do anything right in Ben’s eyes. And when you’re told you’re wrong often enough…you start to believe it.”
Nick gave a rueful laugh, and Elle looked at him sharply. “Sorry,” he said hurriedly. “It’s just… my dad. And my brother. It was like that for me, growing up. I know what that’s like. And no one deserves that. Charlie…he doesn’t deserve that.”
Elle’s eyes lingered on his face a moment before she looked at her drawing in her hand, then back at the marsh. A small group of birds flew by, calling and scolding at a hawk perched in one of the trees across the water. “He doesn’t,” she agreed. Then she looked up and gave Nick a warm smile that made him feel like he was the most valued person on the planet and he knew why she and Charlie had been friends for so many years. “He talked about how wonderful you’ve been when we all caught up last night.”
Nick felt that squeeze in his stomach again, but this time it wasn’t anger; it was a swoop of something warm and comforting, like pride. “I really haven’t…”
“You have,” said Elle in that firm yet gentle way that she seemed to have about her. “You’ve made him feel welcome, he said. And that you’ve gone out of your way to chat with him, show him around, and get to know him. That means a lot.”
Nick blushed furiously. At this point his blood vessels in his neck must have been exhausted. “I - he’s genuinely great. Like, it hasn’t felt…I’m truly glad he came here. I’m glad I got a chance to get to know him.”
Elle smiled and picked up her pencil again, sketching in some bullrushes with sure, smooth strokes as she went back to her drawing. “I’m glad he came, too.”
-
When Nick took the tray back to the house, he listened hard, but didn’t hear any sign of Charlie. Or Tao. He went into the pump room to check the irrigation lines, then ambled down to the barn. Unsurprisingly, he found Charlie and Tao there, Charlie in the paddock scratching Nellie behind the ears and Tao looking dubious, staying firmly behind the paddock fence even as Henry stretched her neck towards him, nosing for pats.
Nick grinned as he saw Tao reach out a single finger and tentatively stoke Henry between the eyes, barely grazing her hair on her forehead. “Wow, Tao and cow,” he called out as he approached. “Or if it was a porno soundtrack…bow chicka Tao cow!”
Charlie and Tao whipped their heads around, surprised by Nick, and Charlie burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that was awful,” he said, shaking his head.
“No, you need to meet my mates Danny and Tex,” Nick said. “They put me to shame. Talk about animal puns. Both of them are good with wordplay, but Tex is from, well…Texas…and is really amazing at farm ones. He says he’s like a cow at them.” Nick paused to wait until both Charlie and Tao looked at him, puzzled. “You know, outstanding in his field.” He grinned when Charlie and Tao groaned in synchronised, disapproving surround-sound.
“Boooo,” called Charlie through cupped hands.
Nick cocked his head. “Sorry, all I hear is ‘moooo’.” Tao shook his head and left the paddock, mumbling that he came here to be a supportive friend, but that standing for ruminant-based humour was more than he signed up for. Nick and Charlie both laughed as he retreated, Nick calling out for Tao to not ruminate on it too long and earning an extended middle finger in response. Once it was just them, Nick joined Charlie in the paddock to say hello to the cows for a moment before realising it was already feeding time.
Nick climbed the ladder to the second floor to push a few flakes of hay and sheaf of alfalfa out into the paddock below, Nellie and Henry zooming over as if attracted by magnets. Nick descended the ladder and he and Charlie exited the paddock, both of them leaning on the fence for a moment and watching the cows eat. They watched quietly, the girls happily tearing the packed hay apart.
“Your friends are great,” said Nick, meaning it genuinely.
Charlie nodded. “They are, yeah.” A comfortable silence fell between them for a moment. “I’m…I still can’t believe they’re here,” said Charlie.
Nick propped one elbow up on the fence and looked at Charlie. “Yeah?” he said, encouraging Charlie to go on with his tone.
“I kind of…I wasn’t the best friend,” said Charlie, looking down and picking at a sliver of wood on the fence. “When I was…I’ve been a little more absent for the last couple of years. Elle and Tao were never the biggest fans of Ben, and so we didn’t see them a lot.” He gave Nick a quick, fleeting glance, but it was enough time to see the shame in Charlie’s eyes. Nick wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to feel ashamed; that it didn’t matter what had happened. He was here now - and Elle and Tao were here now. “But they still came. I’m…I’m really grateful for them.”
“Well, I think good people find good people,” remarked Nick, smiling at the soft look on Charlie’s face in the dimming light. “And they seem like good people. Well…Elle at least. I mean, Tao does too, but he makes me feel like the people at airport security do - like I’ve secretly and accidentally packed something wildly illegal in my bag and he knows about it and is about to bust me.”
Charlie laughed. “He’s a lot more harmless than he looks. And he really does like you.”
“Really?” Nick was…dubious.
“Yes, really!” Charlie insisted. “He didn’t call you anything withering to your face, that’s huge!”
“He did call me a numpty.”
“And you think that’s withering? Sack up, Nelson.”
A laugh erupted out of Nick, totally unbidden. God, he loved sassy Charlie. “You’re right, you’re right. The demon portrait picture people have called me much worse; I should be tougher by now.” He laughed at Charlie’s theatrical shudder.
They stayed there for a few more minutes, the conversation shifting, Nick and Charlie exchanging their feelings on the reality of ghosts, karma, and if anyone actually enjoys those super fancy cakes that look like other things, or if they just tasted like cardboard fondant. They eventually made their way back to the house, Nick insisting on preparing dinner again and the three guests insisting in turn that Nick join them to eat. Dinner was nice, and then Nick found himself immersed in what predictably turned into a too-long game of Monopoly that Charlie had found in the game chest in the parlour, the marathon ending when Elle pretended to sneeze and knocked all of the pieces off the board, brightly exclaiming that she guessed it was time for bed now.
Nick waved the three of them off before doing a round of cleaning and checking his phone, laughing at some of the messages from the lads and then dropping into bed himself. Elle and Tao had to leave fairly early in the morning so that Elle, a therapist, could get back for her Friday appointments. Then it would just be Nick and Charlie again, for one more night - before Charlie left to go back to London himself.
Just one more night.
Notes:
Vegetable Frittata
9 eggs
⅓ c flour (gluten free is okay too)
1 tsp baking soda
⅓ c ricotta cheese
8 ounces shredded cheese (cheddar or Monterey Jack are nice)
2 tsp kosher salt
½ tsp black pepper
2 Tbsp butter
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 large potato, diced
½ c diced red onion
1 red bell pepper, dicedSpray a deep pie pan with cooking spray (or use butter). Preheat the oven to 350 F.
Heat a large skillet over medium heat, add butter and olive oil. Sauté all vegetables until they are tender-crisp (about 5 minutes). Scatter veg in the greased pie pan.
Whisk 4 eggs until they are frothy. Add the flour and whisk until no lumps remain. Add baking soda, salt, and pepper, whisking to combine. Add the rest of the eggs and the ricotta cheese and whisk until combined. Stir in the cheese. Pour the egg mix over the veg, stirring gently to keep the vegetables dispersed.
Bake for 25 - 30 minutes or until the center is set. Let cool for 5 minutes before slicing into wedges.
Chapter 5: Jolt
Summary:
Last time: Elle and Tao arrived to find Charlie and see if he was okay.
This time: It’s the final day of Charlie’s week-long stay at Lavender Fields.
Notes:
Another chapter, another dose of magic from waveofyou and Nelliesayzbork. My Google docs are just a joy-filled riot because of those two, in between their immense improvement of every chapter and allowing me to volley questions at end endlessly. You both are delights and I am so grateful for you!
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick got up early on Friday morning to make sure that everything was set for breakfast, wanting Elle and Tao to have nice memories of Lavender Fields, despite the less-than-ideal reasons they’d come. He was making a batch of his mum’s granola when Charlie came downstairs, leaning into the kitchen and smiling shyly.
“Mm,” said Charlie, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent. “What is that?”
Nick grinned and opened the oven a crack. “Sarah Nelson’s granola. Granelson, I’ve told her that she should market it as.”
Charlie let the smile drop, making his face as blank as possible. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
Nick laughed loudly. “You’ll love it. Why are you up so early?”
Charlie’s smile, which had glowed when Nick laughed, dimmed a little. “Oh, you know, just - I don’t know. Thinking about things.”
Nick nodded as he turned to cut up some fruit. He didn’t feel up to making eye contact with Charlie for some reason. He knew that tonight was Charlie’s last at Lavender Fields, and then he’d be going. Home. And then Charlie would spend multiple nights there, weeks maybe, before B. Hope returned. And Charlie would have to lay in that bed - probably their bed, Nick thought, stomach churning - anticipating that twat coming back and what the conversation would be like. Nick knew those nights well, mind chewing over something and worrying away, digging at wounds. “I do know,” he said quietly. “It always feels like hard things are harder at night, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, as quietly as Nick.
Nick finally turned and looked at Charlie, who looked back at Nick. The air in the kitchen seemed to get thicker for a moment, and Nick cleared his throat. “The daylight always helps, though.”
Charlie blinked and then nodded, seeming to relax. “Yeah,” he agreed again. “It’s always easier in the light. He moved more into the kitchen and opened the mug cabinet to take one down, Nick feeling a little chuffed. He loved that Charlie knew where the mugs were and felt comfortable enough to grab one. “Can I…?” he gestured towards the coffee carafe, which Nick had already filled.
“Be my guest,” said Nick.
“Uh, I believe this is a bed and breakfast, so…already am,” said Charlie with a smirk.
Nick snorted. “There’s a 6% Lavender Fields sassiness surcharge that I can tack on if needed; do not make me adjust your folio.”
Charlie laughed. He stayed in the kitchen with Nick as Nick finished up breakfast, cooling the granola and adding sultanas (Nick had found out the hard way that cooking the granola with the sultanas made for jerky-like pebbles, which was less than pleasant), as well as finishing the fruit salad and frying up a few eggs and chicken sausages. Charlie even carried a few of the serving dishes to the table over Nick’s protests, the two of them getting everything set before Elle and Tao came down. Nick joined in for breakfast at the groups’ insistence, Elle and Tao eating fairly quickly so they could get back to London.
Nick stepped discretely away into the kitchen when they brought their bags downstairs and said goodbye to Charlie, wanting to allow for some privacy. And hopefully for Elle and Tao to both tell Charlie to tell Ben that he was welcome to get the fuck out of his flat and the fuck out of his life.
He came back out to settle the bill with Elle, applying a 25% ‘Friends and Family’ discount that he would pay back into Sarah’s account from his own.
At the door, Elle reached out and pulled Nick in for a hug. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For taking care of our Charlie.”
Nick was surprised to feel a swell of emotion in his throat, and blinked rapidly a few times. “Thank you for coming,” he murmured back, before drawing away. Elle gave him a brief, watery smile before stepping back.
Tao looked at him for a long moment before extending his hand, Nick taking it gratefully, suppressing a smile at the way Charlie made wide, cartoonish eyes behind Tao, pointing gleefully between him and Nick. “Thanks,” muttered Tao, giving Nick a nod.
“Thank you,” said Nick, nodding back.
Tao quickly withdrew his hand and shouldered his bag. “Charlie, we’ll see you this weekend, yeah? Sunday brunch?”
“Definitely,” said Charlie, and Nick felt his heart squeeze. He knew Charlie was leaving tomorrow, but it still felt odd to think of Charlie not being…here. Charlie with his people and life that was in London, not at Lavender Fields.
Charlie followed them to the car park and hugged them both again quickly and then waved them off as Nick occasionally snuck glances out the window. He came back in and gave Nick a small smile.
“Feeling okay?” asked Nick, aware of how hard it was to be separated from a team, a community. He’d been feeling the tug of not being on the Badgers acutely since he retired, and seeing Elle and Tao with Charlie had just heightened that. He missed being around the lads and Amy and everyone, missed the inside jokes and companionship and how loud and busy and warm it felt when they were all together. Fortunately, he had a big group of them coming both in November for a bye week and then again for New Year’s Eve, the December 30th London-area match working out perfectly.
“Yes,” said Charlie, sounding like he really meant it. “I’m still just so amazed that they came.”
“You shouldn’t be,” said Nick as he started to clear up plates, not even really thinking about the words. “They clearly care a lot about you. You deserve that - and you deserve people like them.”
When Nick came back from the kitchen to get more plates, Charlie was blinking rapidly. Nick looked at him closely and with concern, but as he did, Charlie took a deep breath and straightened up, back to himself.
“So,” said Charlie. “What happens at Lavender Fields on a Friday night? Do Nellie and Henry host some sort of cow nightclub?”
“Yes,” said Nick solemnly. “Hampshire’s finest club - they call it Steerage Section.”
Charlie laughed loudly and then clapped a hand over his mouth as he tried to look disgusted and failed. “Do you, like, have these written somewhere?”
“No, I think my brain was cursed by the portrait people and now I can’t not think in puns,” said Nick, grinning. “Actually, Fridays are one of the busier days. I’m going to take care of the cows and do a little with the fields, but then I need to run to a bunch of different places today. There are a couple big farmer’s markets around here, and my mum has several people who distribute a bunch of the lavender products; I drop them off every Friday. You’re welcome to come if you want to see the area?” Nick found himself hoping hard that Charlie would come; he had thought about this last night; that he’d be out of the house most of the day today. He didn’t want to miss most of Charlie’s last day.
Charlie gave Nick a bright and shy smile. “That would be great, yeah. I’d love to join.”
Nick felt the smile creeping up his own face, unable to stop it. “Great,” he said in a casual tone. “Aaaaaand - there’s also a rugby match on tonight that I’m going to watch. You’re welcome to join for that as well.”
Charlie wrinkled his nose. “I think I’m busy that day.” Nick laughed. “Is it - oh, is it your, like - your team? From the league you used to play in?”
“Yes!” said Nick.
“Sure, I’ll try watching a bit,” said Charlie. “You might have to explain, like - all of the rules to me, though. Several times.”
And Nick took that to heart as they loaded up Sarah’s old truck and started driving towards the centre of Hampshire, rattling off the basics of rugby with stacks of crates in the truck behind them carrying dried lavender, lavender oil, lavender lotion, lavender eye pillows, and Lavender Farms Granelson. He took Charlie through the basics of the number of players, the objective of the game (score more points), and the means of scoring. Charlie seemed to follow along for most of the first part, able to echo what made a try and a conversion. He got lost when Nick got into rucks and scrums and mauls, Charlie snorting and saying that everything in rugby sounded vaguely sexual. He started giggling when Nick intentionally peppered his rules talk as suggestively as he could, talking about ball backs, choke tackles, and tight heads. Charlie may have not gotten much in terms of rugby knowledge in Nick’s soliloquy, but his laughter was enough for Nick. He loved seeing Charlie relaxed and happy like this, so different from when he had arrived a week ago.
Nick popped in and out of the truck at their three stops, distributing the goods and chatting briefly with the people who’d help distribute Lavender Fields products at their stalls and tables on Saturday or Sunday. Sarah had built strong relationships in the town and with her distributors, and Nick liked all of them except Mark, a man about Sarah’s age who always seemed a little too interested in chatting with his mum than Nick liked.
Each time he got back into the truck, Charlie had a different song on. Nick had gotten in a habit of only listening to songs he grew up with or the old team locker room mixes from the Badgers. He hadn’t listened to anything new in ages, and enjoyed Charlie’s picks, the music mirroring the sunny day.
As they drove back to the farm, Nick noticed Charlie following along to the song and following the tune, tapping on his thigh. It was one with a great beat that Charlie said was called Leave a Trace by a band called CHVRCHES.
“Do you play music?” Nick asked.
Charlie grinned at him and Nick saw genuine pride there that made him feel a wave of joy. “I do!”
“Well?” said Nick with comical impatience. “What do you play?”
Charlie tapped out a few rhythms on the dash of the truck. “The drums,” he said with another smile. “That’s honestly been the only bad part of being here - being at the inn. Not having my drumset with me. I usually play for at least a few minutes a day, it’s been odd to not do that every day.”
“Do you have, like - a full drumset? In your flat?”
“No, not anymore,” said Charlie. “I haven’t had a full drumset since I was at home; I have an electronic one that I can use with headphones. Less passive aggressive comments from the neighbours that way, you know?” He grinned at Nick and Nick grinned back. Then Charlie looked down at his hands again, his eyebrows knitting together and the smile disappearing. “I’ll stop though if it annoys you.”
Nick felt another hot stab of anger. He could guess who told Charlie that his drumming was annoying, and he bet their name was B. Nope. Nick would be delighted to get to meet B. Hope some day. “It doesn’t,” he assured Charlie with what he hoped was a warm look before returning his eyes to the road. “I think that’s so cool! You play the drums - wow. That’s really cool.”
“Yeah?” Charlie had a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he half-believed Nick.
“Yes.”
They drove on from town eating sandwiches that Nick had picked up from one of the shops they had stopped by. Nick offered to take Charlie down one of the roads back to the farm that led past some alpacas and Charlie eagerly agreed.
“I’ve never seen alpacas,” Charlie enthused as they got nearer.
“If we don’t see them, alpaca the truck up and we’ll go find some,” Nick promised with a cheeky glance at Charlie.
Charlie closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, making Nick laugh. Then Charlie was the one laughing as they slowly rolled past the alpacas, dissolving into giggles at their messy mops of hair and tremendous under and overbites.
“Every single one of them looks like they’re going to offer me sativa edibles at a music festival.”
Nick burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I have been trying to nail down what they look like for ages and you nailed it right away.”
“Do you think all of them plays competitive hacky sack?”
Nick laughed again. If Charlie was staying or lived in Hampshire or Leeds, he imagined they’d be fast friends. Charlie was just so funny and bright and alive. He made Nick feel alive, too. It was hard to believe that it was Charlie’s final night at Lavender Fields, and Nick was going to be genuinely sad to see him leave. His mum had told him that happened sometimes - that there were guests who she called “soul visitors”, the ones who she said left a mark on her heart, ones she held onto. Charlie was one of those for Nick, a soul visitor who he knew he’d think about after he was gone.
They continued to talk about alpacas and llamas as they drove back towards Lavender Fields until Nick had to cease talking to concentrate on the road, which was unexpectedly rutted, washed out more than he thought it would be. Charlie was clinging to what Danny called the “Jesus bars” in the truck as it bounced around. One huge bump that Nick misjudged tossed Charlie towards Nick despite his seat belt. Charlie grabbed Nick’s arm for balance, and Nick instinctively reached across Charlie’s chest to hold him steady.
“Sorry,” breathed Nick in an exhale as he jammed on the brake, his leg stomping a little too hard. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither,” said Charlie with a half-laugh. They looked at each other for a moment and then Charlie released his hand from Nick’s arm at the same time Nick withdrew his from across Charlie’s chest. In the October chill that still lingered in the truck despite the warm air blowing from the vents, Nick could still feel the warmth of Charlie’s fingers on his arm.
His heart a little faster from the unexpected jolt, Nick looked at Charlie. “You right?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, looking a little red. “Totally good.”
“Good,” said Nick. Calm down, Nelson, you’re overreacting to a goddamn literal bump in the literal road. This was not a big deal; there is no reason to be feeling anxious like this. Like - everyone is fine. He took a breath, settling his nerves. They drove back to Lavender Fields, conversation slowly returning to normal.
They pulled up to Lavender Fields and Charlie excused himself to shower as Nick took care of the cows and the fields, pausing to message the team chat to wish the guys luck. The Badgers had a relatively rare Friday evening match against the Northampton Saints, which Nick was sincerely looking forward to watching. Saturday morning and early afternoon matches had been harder to watch during the busy start to the fall; that was typically when he was either cooking or cleaning up or working with the cleaners to get the house turned around for guests. Nick periodically paused in his work to snicker at some of the group messages. He missed those lads so much. It was disorienting sometimes to think of the team all together, eating team dinners and preparing for matches like he used to do while he sat here, in Lavender Fields. Nick sometimes closed his eyes and imagined he was back there, playing some weird cricket hybrid game that Stig and Lunker had invented, or engaging in some high-stakes velcro darts competition that Tex had set up.
He had needed to retire - it was time for his body - but, god. He missed it. He missed it so much. More than anything else, Nick thought, he missed the team. He missed some of the pre-match pieces and the fixture itself, of course. There was nothing like that searing intensity and the momentary, perfect focus of clarity. For a hundred minutes every week, Nick knew what his purpose was on Earth. That was a little fuzzier off the field - but on. Yes. It was crystal clear.
More than that, though, Nick missed the team. He’d played on an endless number of teams over the twenty-five years or so he’d been playing rugby, and there was truly no team like the Badgers. Everyone supported and loved one another unequivocally. Nick had been part of so many laddish friend groups in all of his teams, but he’d never felt fully…himself. He still wasn’t sure if he did, but he knew that when he was with the Badgers, he got the closest. He truly could not wait for next year when he’d be back with everyone as a coach. And before that, he had the two fall trips, as well as a spring trip when everyone would come out again. Nick loved it when the house was noisy and exasperating and side-splittingly funny. I bet Charlie would like them, too, thought Nick mindlessly. He really did - especially James and Danny. And god, Amy too. Nick could see their sassiness either turning into a beautiful friendship or turn into his own personal Nick-rinsing hell.
Nick hadn’t been able to catch up with Amy or his best mate Seamus last week. He normally caught up with each of them every Sunday, and he was looking forward to even that small piece of home Sunday. Nick suspected he’d need that - it was going to be so odd without Charlie there. Maybe Charlie would come back, some time. Maybe he’d liked Lavender Fields so much that he’d want to visit again. Nick really, really hoped so.
Later that afternoon, Charlie came down with a grim look on his face, taking several theatrical deep, grounding breaths and saying that he was emotionally prepared to watch a “full-arse” rugby match. Nick laughed and grilled Charlie on a few points of the game, of which Charlie got an admirable four out of ten right.
They kept chatting while Nick made dinner for them, first roasting some thinly sliced yams with salt, pepper, and olive oil. Once they were crispy, Nick loaded them with seasoned ground chicken, capsicums, spicy peppers, and diced courgettes. He topped all of that with cheese, explaining to Charlie that this was a recipe that his teammate from America, Tex, would sometimes make, a healthier version of nachos. Once out of the oven, Nick added tomatoes and onion and brought the whole tray with him upstairs to his private living room, Charlie following behind with a bottle of wine that he had nipped into a store and bought while they were in town. Charlie insisted that he owed Nick something in exchange for the bed-and-breakfast-plus-dinner that he was now staying at, Nick rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
They ate casually off plates in their laps while they watched, Nick periodically explaining a piece to Charlie, who at the very least was convincingly feigning interest. Nick could feel himself tensing up during various parts of the match, muttering to himself and gesturing at the screen to encourage James to dodge up the near side, or willing Lucas to throw a pop pass to Decker, who was goddamn open.
“You’ll be a good coach,” said Charlie at the halftime break with a sly grin. “Though your players might throttle you for talking the whole time.”
Nick had to laugh. “Low blow, C. Spring.” Charlie laughed too. “You remembered I was coaching though?” He had only mentioned that once; he was amazed that Charlie had recalled that.
“Of course,” said Charlie. “You’re going back next season, right? So that would mean you’re here until…” He trailed off and giggled a little under Nick’s stern grin; “What months does the Premiership season go from?” had been one of Nick’s earlier trivia questions.
Nick grinned and gave Charlie a pass. “August. I’ll leave here at the start of August to get back for all of the coaching meetings before the season starts again and for training and all that.”
“Will you miss it?” asked Charlie, and for a moment, Nick’s heart stopped, thinking that Charlie had asked if Nick would miss him.
Why would I hear that?, Nick wondered to himself. He blinked and cleared his throat. “I think I will. I really think I will. It’s been so much work,” he said, then rushed when he saw the tilt of Charlie’s head. “Not with you - not like, at all. But this summer and then the early fall it was full up nearly every day. There were anywhere from six to twelve people at the table every day.” Charlie gave an amazed nod, Nick nodding in agreement. “So yeah, it’s sometimes exhausting,” he said. “On the other hand, though. It’s gorgeous. It’s peaceful and interesting. And I get to meet some pretty great people.” He grinned at Charlie, who grinned back.
“Like Tao?”
Nick laughed and threw a pillow at Charlie. “Exactly. So yeah, I’ll definitely miss it.” He wanted to ask Charlie if he was going to miss Lavender Fields, but didn’t know how to do so without sounding like he was fishing for compliments about the farm.
Then as if Charlie was listening to his thoughts, he quietly said, “I’m going to miss it here, too.”
Nick whipped his head around to look at Charlie. “You will?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, that perfectly Charlie grin spinning into Nick’s soul. “It’s been - it’s beautiful here. The food’s been amazing, the bed is so soft, the view of the fields is incredible, and then you’ve been - oh! Oh my GOD. Is that you?!”
Nick looked at the TV and chortled when he saw himself, a few years younger and recommending Deep Heat, a pain relief cream that “helps me recover after every fixture.” Nick reddened a little, lightly embarrassed as he always was whenever his commercials came on, hating the way he always sounded so wooden. He gazed closely at the screen, pretending to scrutinise. “Hmm, nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. Handsome guy, though. Some might say the handsomest boy in the whole wide world?”
“Is that what Sarah tells you?” asked Charlie, making Nick nearly spit out his wine. God, Charlie was funny. He found himself telling Charlie about that commercial shoot, Charlie laughing as Nick described the way he’d made the makeup artist explain what contouring was for approximately 22 minutes before begging her to try it on him.
“I wanted my jawline to pop, Charlie,” explained Nick seriously. “Stop - stop laughing Charlie! Oh. The match is on again. Shhh, no more laughing or talking of this ever again.” They both chuckled themselves into silence (which lasted about three seconds before Nick burst into play-by-play analysis again) to watch.
Forty-two minutes and a Badgers victory later, Nick cheersed Charlie and finished his wine. Charlie had stayed admirably interested in the match, frequently looking over at Nick and asking him some question that would set Nick off on an explanation, frequently getting up to gesture at the screen or even re-enacting some plays, stutter-stepping on the soft carpet to show how a player should have moved.
Charlie helped Nick carry everything down to the kitchen, where Nick insisted they leave it for the night. It was already 9:30, and Nick was keenly aware that in just a few hours, Charlie would head upstairs to bed for the last time at Lavender Fields.
He heard himself asking Charlie if he fancied any tea and a fire in the parlour, and felt a flush of joy when Charlie said he’d love that. Nick busied himself with the kettle and the fire, stoking the flames and bringing out the kettle and mugs for him and Charlie.
They both settled in. Nick felt the energy shifted from the playful, boisterous energy from before. He let the silence go on, assuming that Charlie was processing that he was leaving soon. Going back to his flat, going back to wait for B. Hope to return. And then…whatever happened after that.
After a few moments, Charlie confirmed Nick’s suspicions. “It’s going to be strange to be back,” he said quietly. “Back in London, I mean.” Nick stayed quiet, willing Charlie to keep going, to drive forward, like he was one of the players from the match earlier. “I mean, going back to work and all that, yeah, but going, like back back. To the flat. My flat? Our flat? I don’t even…I don’t even know what to call it.” Charlie lapsed into a miserable-looking silence, staring into the fire.
Nick took a breath. “I remember that feeling…” he started. He tried again. “I remember when my last relationship ended. We had lived together, too. I know that feeling. Like - this place that had been one thing for so long feeling so completely different. That was - it’s like going up a staircase and you miss a step, right? You expect one thing that you’re so used to and then it’s this…jolt.” Nick looked up to see Charlie’s eyes on him, not the fire.
“What - what ended it?” asked Charlie gently. “If you - only if you want to talk-”
Nick shook his head indicating it was fine. “There was no big, like thing,” he said. He’d asked himself the same question endless times near the end and after it ended. “We just didn’t…fit. Or, no - that’s not quite it. She was - Marla. Marla’s a nice person. But we spent a lot of our time apart, you know? I was travelling with the team a lot during the season, and she did sports PR. It - it felt like it made sense to get together, you know?” Charlie nodded. “And it was, like, fine when we were together. Good. But…when we were together, the TV would be on a lot. Or our phones would be out. And that’s fine sometimes, too, right? But I felt like - I don’t know, I just didn’t feel connected sometimes. And the worst part was that neither one of us seemed to worry that we weren’t connected. We looked good together in pictures for pressers, we both ran in the same circles - like, it made sense. But it didn’t feel…” Nick trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I’ve told you about Danny and James, right?”
“A little,” said Charlie. He blushed a little and said, “I actually looked up some stuff after you mentioned them because I was interested in them being the first players to come out in professional rugby.”
Nick smiled to put Charlie at ease. “I’m glad you did. I’m really proud of our team and how everything happened.” That was mostly true - most of the players had been nothing short of great, and the only dickbag on the team had been forced off almost immediately. “But yeah, Danny and James - I’d see them together and I just realised how…different it was for them. Like - they listened to each other. I feel like Marla and I never did that. At least not like those two do. No relationship is perfect and no one has that whole butterfly feeling forever, but those two showed me like - what I was missing? That you could be with someone that wasn’t just, like, there. Someone who was an authentic partner. I don’t think Marla and I were ever that for each other.”
Charlie was looking at Nick like he was trying to stem tears, and Nick immediately felt a swoop of regret. He opened his mouth to apologise and Charlie shook his head at Nick. “No, sorry, this is - just…That kind of sounds like Elle and Tao, too. And how I’ve felt about them before…” Charlie broke off and swallowed hard. “I know comparing relationships isn’t super helpful. But seeing them, and then seeing the way Ben…” He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, strikingly deep blue as always. He heaved a breath and then Nick saw his energy shift. “But yeah. Gays on a rugby team, huh?”
Nick smiled softly, letting Charlie change the subject. He was sure that he’d just accidentally flooded Charlie with memories of what Ben had been like - was like - and how starkly different that was to Elle and Tao. A small, terrible part of himself felt almost good about that. He wanted Charlie to see that he deserved better, so badly. “Yep, gays on a rugby team,” Nick laughed. “Then like I mentioned and like you probably saw when you Googled it, a few other players ended up coming out, either privately to Danny and James or some of their teams and some publicly, too.”
“You said the team was good, right?”
“The best, save one,” confirmed Nick. “It was just like - pretty much anyone else’s relationship. They kept it professional in the locker room and all that but then at parties, they were the same as everyone else - getting rinsed for their PDA, those handsy motherfuckers.”
Charlie let out a surprised laugh and Nick grinned, loving the way it felt to make Charlie burst out like that. “It’s…it’s nice that you’re not weirded out by, like, talking about men dating other men. A lot of straight guys are.”
Nick felt a weird uneasiness in his belly and an odd sense of deja vu. He laughed a little uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he said, then shook it off. “Yeah, no, god, there is almost nothing I can be weirded out by, now. Not after all I’ve seen - and heard - with those two. Hotel room walls are only so thick, you know?” Charlie smirked. “Well, and then Amy has also tainted heterosexual love with everything she’s told me about dating, and literally nothing is worse than that.”
“Amy?” asked Charlie.
“Team physio,” said Nick. “One of my closest friends; we talk weekly, along with a lot of the guys from the team. She and Seamus and Tex and I are all really close with Danny and James.” Nick pulled out his phone to show Charlie his lock screen, the six of them together at some team event.
“Jesus,” said Charlie. “Is everyone in Premiership ridiculously attractive?”
Nick laughed. “You must be talking about James, huh? Or I guess Tex is a tall drink of water, too. And Amy, yeah I guess, and-”
“All of you,” said Charlie firmly, and Nick blushed. “But…yeah. It’s just nice that you and the team are fine talking about men dating men. And like, how that feels.” He glared down at his tea for a moment. “Some men who date men can’t even do that.” Charlie laughed, but it was bitter, a hurt and tender sound that made Nick’s heart ache.
Nick took a breath, desperate to hear more about what Charlie planned to do when he got home, desperate to hear that he wouldn’t settle for whatever he was given. “How do you feel…about seeing him?” Nick couldn’t bring himself to say the name. Nick watched as Charlie’s face crumbled and Charlie’s posture changed, shrinking in on himself like he was trying to take up less space.
“I don’t know,” said Charlie, in a near-whisper. “I really don’t.” He looked up at Nick as if hoping to find answers and Nick tried to give him one, telepathically urging Charlie to see how good he was. And how utterly worthy of goodness he was. Charlie took a shaky breath. “He was…he was pretty awful that night before. The one before the wedding, when he called it all off.” Charlie set down his tea and gripped at his opposite arms, like he was trying to shield himself. “And then I came here and he called - and I was expecting him to apologise.” Charlie gave another hollow laugh, no joy behind it. “That…didn’t happen.”
Nick was hesitant, but pushed forward. “That night before - was it a…was it an argument? Did something happen?”
Charlie held on to his arms even more tightly. “It was…yeah. I brought something up that had happened that had upset me. A thing - a thing about the wedding that was really important to me. And god, I even like - I wrote down what I wanted to say. Because I wanted to say it and not get emotional and see if maybe that helped him hear me.” Nick clenched his fist, hot anger rising in his stomach and chest. “Then Ben - Ben said that it was me, doing the same thing. Being over-dramatic and expecting everything to be exactly like I wanted it. He said that I wanted too much.”
Nick tried very, very hard to keep his voice steady. “Too much?”
Charlie nodded minutely, like he was even trying to keep his reactions small. “He said that during the whole wedding planning, I’ve wanted too much. I wanted an engagement ring when he proposed, and he said that we’d just do bands and that I didn’t need an engagement ring, too, and that I was just being needy. And then I wanted to have a wedding by the sea, and he said that was too much of a hassle, so we didn’t. I had wanted to have an engagement party to celebrate with our friends and stuff, but he said that was attention-seeking and so we didn’t.” He sighed, sounding utterly defeated, and it was like water on the fire of anger in Nick’s body, reminding him that Charlie probably needed something softer and more tender from him, not anger.
“Oh, Charlie,” said Nick, not even knowing what he was going to say next.
“And I’ve like - I see what he’s saying. Sometimes I worry I am too much. Like, I want too much. I feel like - yeah, I can be dramatic, maybe? So every time, I tried to catch myself. We didn’t do engagement rings, and we didn’t do the seaside wedding, and we didn’t do the engagement party, and then with this-” Charlie stopped and Nick’s jaw was tight, torn between not wanting to interrupt Charlie and not wanting him to believe B. Hope’s lies for another second. “I feel like I tried to change what I wanted so many times. I’d always ask myself if it was that big of a deal and then try to like, save my opinions for when it really mattered to me. So this time, when it did really matter to me, I stood my ground, and he…” Charlie exhaled, with a tiny wounded sound in it that physically hurt Nick. “I don’t think I want to be with someone who treats me like that,” said Charlie finally, and Nick’s heart felt like it was melting into the floor in his relief. Charlie looked up and Nick saw the tears in his eyes, reflecting the flames crackling in the fireplace. “I’m scared though that…” He took a breath and then looked at Nick again. “There’s already like…a smaller pool when you’re gay. So…what if I do want too much? What if there’s not enough that like - anyone can offer? What if it’s me, not him?”
Nick felt like his skin was aching with how deeply he wanted Charlie to understand. He set down his mug and leaned forward to place his hand on Charlie’s knee. Charlie glanced down quickly and with wide eyes before meeting Nick’s again. “Charlie,” said Nick, shaking his head slowly. “There is enough. So ask for more.”
Charlie opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. He shut his eyes and took a breath, like he was trying to breathe in Nick’s words. It was a long few minutes before he spoke again. “Nick. I…” Both of their attention was pulled away as Nick’s phone rang, sitting out on the arm of his chair after showing Charlie the picture of everyone. “Is that your friend Amy you were talking about calling?”
Nick chuckled, even though he was frustrated by the timing, wanting to hear more from Charlie. “How’d you guess?” The picture up on the screen was a close-up of Amy in the aftermath of a bottomless mimosa brunch out, fully asleep on a nicely-set table with a champagne glass perched on her cheek. She’d been so annoyed when she’d found out that was his contact picture for her, though Nick firmly felt it was karmic payback for the godawful picture she had of him from when he was a fat-cheeked baby. Sarah was a traitor for that one.
“Are you going to answer that?” asked Charlie as the call ended and another one immediately came through.
“I probably have to,” sighed Nick. “This lot will call forever.” He swiped to answer the phone, putting it on speaker so Charlie could enjoy the traditional post-match win call that he guessed it would be. “Hello?”
“WE WON YOU SPECKLED OLD BALLSACK!”
“Hi Danny.”
“I want to talk to him!”
“No, I haven’t talked to Nelson in ages, let me-”
“It’s my phone, you hosers! Nicky!” Nick winced when he saw Charlie give him a tiny smirk, mouthing, ‘Nicky?’. “Did you watch the match?”
“Of course I did,” said Nick. “That was brilliant; tell Fitzy that drift defence call was perfect; the way he made that cut-back impossible was absolutely stunning.”
“I will do no such thing; you know I only understood what like 30% of what you said,” said Amy. “We just wanted to call and say-”
“WE MISS YOUUUUUUU!”
“Come back, Nelson!”
“James even misses your jokes, Nick, we miss you!”
“I NEVER SAID THAT!”
Amy laughed as a round of squabbling broke out, followed by Tex and Danny lobbing puns back and forth ‘in Nick’s eternal honour’. “Just wanted to call and tell you that. Call you Sunday?”
“Absolutely, can’t wait.”
“Okay, we love you! Everyone, tell Nick you love him!”
“Love you Nelson!”
“Miss you captain!”
“I miss your sexy musk and scent every day, Nicky baby.”
“Love you too, Danny,” laughed Nick. “Have fun, everyone!”
There was garbled yelling before the call clicked off, Nick smiling and closing his phone.
Charlie gave Nick a soft, warm look. “They seem great.”
“They are,” said Nick, looking at his lock screen. “I miss them.”
“I see why,” said Charlie. He glanced up at the clock. “It’s…I’ll head up to bed. It’s getting late and I haven’t packed, well - anything.” Nick felt his stomach turn a little bit at that, remembering that Charlie was leaving in less than twelve hours. “Thank you for - well, a lot. But thank you for listening.”
“I - yeah,” said Nick lamely. He wanted to tell Charlie again that he deserved someone who was good - a person who recognised and appreciated the person that Charlie was. A funny, kind, insightful, caring person. But he didn’t know how to get back to that frozen-in-time moment that he and Charlie shared just a few minutes before, the spell broken. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick.”
Nick quietly cleaned up the parlour and kitchen, sending a few messages to the team and ♥️ing the pictures that came through. He got into bed and tried in vain to go to sleep, his mind kicking and skin feeling just a shade too tight. It took him far too long to drift off to sleep, his brain turning back to Charlie, terrified of asking an inch when he deserved a mile.
-
The next morning Nick dragged himself out of bed. Despite wanting to get up and making sure things were perfect for Charlie, he found himself having that 5-year-old reaction where if he didn’t have to see something, it wasn’t happening. Like Charlie leaving.
Nick finally got himself up and dressed, heading into the kitchen to fix Charlie’s coffee right away. Charlie had mentioned on the second day that he loved sundried tomatoes, so Nick got to work making a cheddar and tomato quiche, using a pie crust he had made and frozen a few weeks before. Charlie came down about an hour after Nick, eyes looking as tired as Nick’s body felt.
“How’d you sleep?” enquired Nick.
“Oh, um - fine,” said Charlie. “Just - yeah. Just trying to get ready to go back to the real world, right?”
The real world. That’s how a lot of people put it when they were leaving Lavender Fields; that they had to go back to the real world. Like Lavender Fields was an oasis of perfection and calm, and the rest of the world spun on angrily outside its wooded and flowered edges. Lavender Fields and Nick were just temporary stopovers in people’s lives, in the novels of their experiences. Not even main event pages; just footnotes and fond memories. Charlie would move on and live his life and Nick hopes that he - that the welcome he gave Charlie at Lavender Fields - would be a pleasant memory Charlie came back to.
Breakfast was quiet, the two of them both lost in their thoughts as they ate together and cleaned up the kitchen. Nick felt odd taking Charlie’s card (charging 50% of the original rate, arguing that it was justified since the party was smaller than expected over Charlie’s protests), and then odder as they stood together in the car park after Nick carried Charlie’s bags to the car. What do you say at a moment like this - saying goodbye to someone whose whole world got flipped and somehow became a big part of your life for the past week? Google had been silent on the subject.
Nick and Charlie stood a little apart, bodies partially turned towards one another. Nick wanted to reach out to hug Charlie, and was puzzled by the conflict in his thoughts.
I hug the rugby lads all the time; affection isn’t weird to me.
But this is a customer; you don’t hug customers.
Charlie’s shifted though, hasn’t he? From a customer to…a friend?
Charlie’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I’m glad I came,” he said, looking at Nick with that shy smile that Nick saw on the second day that he’d been there.
“I’m glad you did, too.” said Nick. They stood there for another moment, unmoving. Fuck it, thought Nick. Fuck this weird societal shit about men not hugging. He opened his arms and gave a weak gesture towards Charlie to see how Charlie would react. Charlie started at first, and then opened his own, and Nick pulled Charlie in for a quick, clasping hug. They both separated and Nick cleared his throat, not sure how to properly say goodbye, Charlie’s eyes fixed on the ground and the tips of his ears red. It was silent for another moment.
“Charlie, remember that you…” Nick paused, wanting to get it right. “You deserve…more. Better. Make sure you get what you deserve, okay?”
Charlie took a sharp breath in and then nodded, his eyes looking a darker blue in the sunshine, his gaze back looked complicated. He then took a slow breath this time and then smiled softly. “Thank you, Nick.”
And with that, C. Spring got in his car and waved one last time to Nick, pulling out of Lavender Fields and out of Nick’s life.
Notes:
Granola (or Granelson)
3 c. rolled oats
1 c. pecans or walnuts (unsalted)
1 c. almonds (slivered or sliced, unsalted)
½ tsp. salt
2 ½ tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 tsp. cloves
¼ c. canola oil
½ c. maple syrup
1 tsp. vanilla
¾ c raisinsPreheat the oven to 300 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a large bowl, combine all dry ingredients besides the raisins. Toss well. Combine the oil and syrup and heat on low until tiny bubbles just begin to form. Remove from heat and whisk in the vanilla. Pour the mixture over the dry ingredients and combine until well-distributed.
Spread the granola on the parchment paper and spread to the edges. Bake for 15 minutes, and then gently toss the granola. Return to the oven for a second 15 minutes, toss again. Return to the oven for a third time and bake 12 - 15 minutes, then toss again. You may need slightly more or less time.
When the granola is browned, remove it from the oven and let it cool. When the granola has cooled, add in the raisins. Seal in an airtight container.
Chapter 6: Choice
Summary:
Last chapter: Charlie and Nick learned more about each other before Charlie left for London.
This chapter: Nick catches up with a lot of the people in his life.
Notes:
Thank you as always to the lovelies who are waveofyou and Nelliesayzbork. Wavey is writing Narlie Waves, which if you have not read - you have not read one of the most incredible stories on Ao3. It is moving and sexy and just so wonderful! NSB just began a new fic as well - As You Are. It's SO fantastic and funny and stirring and the POVs just add so much to the story! Thank you for beta'ing in between your magnificent writing, both of you!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick Nelson was mopey.
Nick was mopey as he went back in the house and as he cleaned up after breakfast. He was mopey as he tended to Nellie and Henry, leaning on the fence and staring at nothing in particular before he realised how long he’d been standing there. He was extremely mopey as his Saturday night guests checked in, a very in love couple from Cardiff who asked where the most Instagrammable spots on the farm were.
He was mopey that night, too - a Saturday night without a rugby match he cared to watch. Nick had guessed he was going to feel a little down after Charlie left. They’d actually become - friends, maybe? - during Charlie’s stay, and naturally it brought back some of that aching feeling Nick had experienced since leaving the team. Or felt like it, anyway - that nagging sense of not-rightness. After making sure the new couple was settled (whose names he couldn’t be bothered to remember), Nick briefly considered going into town for a pint, but decided against it. He moped mopily around, thinking about calling someone from the Badgers but then figuring that most of the lads and Amy would be out on a rare, full Saturday off. Nick pulled out his mobile anyway and hit the top button on his favourites.
“Nicky?”
“Hey Mum.”
“Hi baby! Is everything okay, love? You sound a little down.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” said Nick, walking outside to try to perk up a little with the cool air. “Just tired, maybe. A week-long booking just left and a new couple checked in tonight. They’re staying until Tuesday, and then it’s picking back up again for a few weeks.” He made his way across the road to the barn as he detailed some of the upcoming guests for Sarah, asking for a few ideas for breakfasts for one of the guests who was vegan.
“Yes, those carrot waffles are so good,” agreed Nick, when Sarah reminded him of a vegan recipe that they had perfected together on one rare Christmas when his fixture schedule had lined up and he and some of the team had been able to spend the day with her at Lavender Fields. “I’ll make those, thanks Mum. And speaking of carrots…” He pulled a few out of his coat pocket, the ones he had slipped in his jacket, grabbing them from a basket on the porch. “Nellie and Henry say hi!” Nick gave each of the girls a carrot and held the phone next to their cheeks so that Sarah could hear the telltale crunching.
“Hi girls!” Sarah gushed. “Oh, I miss you loves and I hope you’re being so good for Nicky and I cannot wait to hug each of you when I come back and visit soon! Have they given you much trouble, baby?”
Nick laughed. “Only Henry. You know that guest I mentioned who was just here, Charlie, the one who stayed for a week?”
“Oh, yes, you hadn’t mentioned his name, but yes, go on?”
“Well, yeah, we got some unexpected snow, and…” Nick told Sarah the whole story, Sarah laughing and groaning as Nick described the “smug victory walk” that Henry had done after he and Charlie had fallen in the mud.
“At least you got a good story out of it,” chuckled Sarah. “One that you’ll be able to milk for all it’s worth?”
“YES,” said Nick, a little of his gloom lifting as he laughed. He should have known that talking to his mum would help.
“So that guest was there for a full week? Just him? We don’t get many solo travellers,” mused Sarah.
“Oh, you won’t believe it, Mum,” said Nick, his voice instantly hardening a little. “It was supposed to be his honeymoon.”
“Supposed to be?” asked Sarah, going into protective mum mode already. “What happened?!”
“Apparently his twat of a fiancé-”
“Nicky!”
“No, Mum, listen, seriously. Charlie was engaged to this guy, this Ben,” Nick nearly spit the word. “And literally the night before their wedding - the night before, Mum! - this guy calls it off.” Nick found himself telling Sarah everything. He told her how kind and funny Charlie was, and how it sounded like Ben was awful to him. He worried aloud to her about Charlie’s flat and how Ben had “allowed” him to stay there while he was off doing god knows what in god knows where until god knows when. Nick described how Charlie had slowly come out of his shell over the course of the week. He told her he hated the fact that Charlie would have to go face Ben again after whatever happened the night before the wedding and after that phone call that Charlie took, with how rattled Charlie had been after. Nick stopped himself when he realised that he’d been talking for nearly five minutes, Sarah silent and listening on the phone. He shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth, then relaxed his jaw. “I just…I hope he’ll be okay, Mum.”
“Oh, baby,” said Sarah sympathetically. “I’m so glad you were there for him.”
Nick nodded to himself. “Me too,” he said authentically.
“Remember when I told you that there were some parts of running Lavender Fields that I couldn’t put in the binder? The parts that you just had to…experience? That’s one of them - the whole ‘soul visitor’ bit I mentioned. It’s a bit like you’re living with someone for a part of their lives - because you are, really? It’s intimate in a way that other stays aren’t. I’ve had those people, too, darling - the ones that burrow a bit into your heart. It’s hard to say goodbye to them, isn’t it?”
Nick blinked against the unexpected burn of tears, swallowing hard, his throat tight. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to hear that, to have her normalise how he was feeling. It calmed him. All day, Nick had been stewing in his misery and wondering why he was being such a baby. Sarah reminded him that this was normal to be so affected by a guest; that it happened to her, too. He cleared his throat and took a deep, quiet breath. “Yes, definitely,” he said, starting to walk back up to the house, giving the girls a quick pat goodbye. “So, where are you?” Sarah had been travelling in the continental United States for the past few weeks, largely on the Western half of the country to start.
“I’m in Colorado,” she said. “It’s what the locals call ‘mud season’ here, so it’s quiet in the mountain towns, but still lovely. I’m in this town right now called Steamboat Springs.” Sarah chattered away, telling Nick about the town, parts of it original from when it had been built in the 1800s. She was going to some places solo and meeting friends in other places, like she was in this town.
“Oh, Jen has absolutely loved it here,” said Sarah, referring to one of her oldest friends that Nick considered like another mother. “She found this place near us called Strawberry Park Hot Springs. It’s this natural geothermal pool next to a lake. You walk in and there are all of these stone pools you can get in, then duck into the lake for a moment to cool down. At night there are almost no lights at all, so the stars are so beautiful.”
“That sounds amazing, Mum-”
“And we discovered that after dark, it becomes ‘clothing optional’! Nicky, I have never seen so many pen-“
“Nope. Absolutely not. Never.” Happy feelings gone.
Sarah laughed. “I’m about to walk out the door, darling. Jen found a place for lunch and then we’re going to walk along the river.”
“That sounds lovely, Mum. I’m so glad you’re having a good time. I can’t wait to see you in December!” Sarah was coming back for a week, as she had been about every other month.
“Oh, me too, baby. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mum.” They exchanged ‘I love you’s and Sarah rang off. Nick felt highly chirked up, minus the thought of his mother going to anything considered clothing optional. He walked back into the house to make dinner, even though he really didn’t feel hungry at all. Nick settled himself into the Lavender Fields office to quickly scan the upcoming reservations, noticing that another had come in for the following weekend; it would be a full house. He dashed off a quick email to the cleaners to set days for the following month and then opened up the month-long calendar view.
Nick felt his eyes drag back to the reservation that had spanned the last seven days: C. Spring and B. Hope. Nick’s finger hovered over the calendar event before he clicked into it, the details popping back up.
C. Spring and B. Hope
- 7 nights (30.9.22 - 6.10.22)
- Arrival time: 9:00 pm - is that too late? Please let me know if it is.
- Email: [email protected]
- Contact: 07333 555 637
- Specific Room Request?: No
- Dietary Restrictions: No white sugar (B. Hope), Paleo (B. Hope)
- Is there a special occasion you’ll be celebrating?: It’s our honeymoon!
Nick glared at the dietary restrictions, hoping that every food item B. Hope ever ate for the rest of his life was filled with white sugar and laxatives. He mindlessly highlighted the bullet points of Charlie’s contact information with the cursor, lingering on the invite. He had to assume the phone number was Charlie’s, since the email was clearly his.
Could I…send him an email? Would that be weird?
Email seems so formal. ‘Dear Charlie, How are you, I am fine. How is the family? I am just writing to say hi and to thank you for the lovely sweater, grandma, I really love it-”
Nick wasn’t in grammar school anymore, no one wrote letters.
Well, what about messaging Charlie? He did have his number.
No, that’s way more - what was the word Mum said?
Intimate.
That word had sat squirming in Nick’s belly, feeling odd until he remembered that Lucy, the team psychologist, had described intimacy as emotional openness, not like intimacy -intimacy.
Yeah, messaging seemed too ‘intimate’. Honestly, reaching out at all seemed too intense, too clingy. Nick hated that perception of himself, the one that he fought himself against when he started with the Badgers, afraid of being seen as the needy lad who was always texting everyone.
He wouldn’t message Charlie. This was just one of those things. Those things that affected you strongly and then eased with time.
But still, his eyes stayed on Charlie’s contact information a little while longer before clearing his head and clicking out of the page.
Later that night as Nick headed to bed, he thought again of Charlie, probably laying in his bed a few hours away in London. Charlie’s room was probably just as quiet as Nick’s, though maybe with the background hum of city sounds. But similarly silent, no conversational partner there with him. Just Charlie and his thoughts, and Nick with his. Nick’s thoughts kept swirling back to Charlie, thinking about how he would live his life in the flat he had shared with Ben, waiting for Ben to come back. Charlie had said he deserved better, and Nick hoped - god, he hoped so hard - that Charlie would stay steadfast in that. He had faith in Charlie. Nick had a sense that Charlie Spring was stronger than Nick realised - and probably stronger than even Charlie realised, too.
-
It was Sunday, and Nick was looking forward to his catch-up calls. He had one with Amy every weekend, and Seamus nearly as often. He spoke to Danny (and James, by effect) often too, though the timing was never predictable as an extension of Danny’s utter unpredictability. Nick was just taking out his phone to try Amy first when he felt it buzz and looked down to see Seamus’s name on his screen.
“Hey, Shea.”
“Nicky Nelson,” said Seamus sanctimoniously.
Nick laughed. “How’s it? The Tigers still treating you well?”
“Yeah, it’s not bad,” replied Seamus. “It’s gotten easier being on a new team, and most of the lads are great. But nothing’s like the Badgers, you know?”
Nick knew. “I get that, yeah. So I’d assume no one has taken all of your pants and frozen them in a block of ice yet this year?”
Seamus chuckled ruefully. “Fuck, I had forgotten about that. Danny thought he was so funny.”
“Mate,” said Nick, grinning. “That was hilarious. The look on your face when you came out of the shower in just a towel and he just handed you that ice chisel…”
Seamus laughed. “That Aussie fucker. I love that idiot.”
“Somehow, we all do,” agreed Nick. They transitioned a bit, talking about the Tiger’s most recent fixture. Seamus had been traded when his contract was up and the team administration had been trying on some changes, hoping to bring in younger talent and push them to be a top-tier team. Nick got it, but he also hated that part of the sport. Seamus had taken it as well as he could, as had the rest of the team. The fans had been livid, though, and Seamus always got a massive cheer when he came back to play against the Badgers and waved to the crowd.
“And how’s single life?” Nick asked.
“Oh, fine,” said Seamus breezily. “It was for the best, you know?” Nick knew this as well. He stifled a laugh to himself, thinking of how Danny had once described Seamus’s ex-girlfriend Kate as an “unsalted baked potato doused in vinegar, inexplicably both boring and acidic at the same time.” They’d broken up a few months after Seamus’s trade, Kate not willing to move or put in the work at being long-distance.
“You seeing anyone?”
“Are you seeing anyone?” Seamus fired back and Nick chuckled, though he felt an odd swoop in his stomach for no discernible reason.
“I have two girls all over me every night,” Nick boasted, walking down towards the barn as Seamus made an incredulous sound. “Their names are Henriette and Nellie and they think I’m incredible.”
Seamus laughed. “They think you feed them. They are also literal cows, Nicholas.”
“Well, yeah, that.”
They chatted a bit longer about nothing in particular before Seamus had to ring off, explaining that he was pulling back into his place and would lose service in the lift. Nick hung up and grinned. He liked talking to all of the lads from the team, but there was something in particular about talking to Seamus, who had also been shifted from the Badgers before he felt fully ready. They both understood the complex feelings about professional sport in a way that the others who still got to be on the team didn’t.
Nick idly thought back to Seamus and Kate and wondered what the team had thought about him and Marla. They probably thought she was fine - she definitely wasn’t divisive like Kate, all of the lads exclaiming how glad they were when she and Seamus broke up in private conversations. They probably thought Nick and Marla were fine together. But Nick wanted more than fine. He was still thinking that over when he reopened his phone and hit Amy’s number on his Favourites.
“Amy’s hotline for novice short-term farmers and their terrible puns; this is Amy speaking, how can I help you?”
Nick laughed. “Hey Ames.”
“Hey babe!” exclaimed Amy brightly.
“Where are you? There’s a lot of background noise.”
“Oh, I’m on the train,” said Amy. “I took advantage of the Friday night game and had a proper weekend, like two days of weekend.”
“Don’t make me jealous,” groaned Nick. “It’s been mad around here; I haven’t had a day off in a few weeks.”
“I’m sorry, boo!” said Amy. “What have guests been like the last few weeks?”
“They’ve…” Nick paused, feeling weirdly shy about talking to her about Charlie. He thought about how he had gushed to his mum about him, and thought that, like, Amy might make fun of him or something for talking about Charlie so much. He felt odd not bringing Charlie up to Seamus or Amy but felt a squirmy, nervy feeling talking about him for no good reason. “They’ve been good. Oh god, though, Ames, except this one couple I just had? She said that they were influencers and asked about a discount for exposure.”
Amy snorted and went off on one of her patented, “if someone wanted to use exposure for marketing they’d flash a titty and sell the shit out of something, not rely on an Instagrammer” rants that Nick secretly loved. She laughed as he described how the couple would fiercely whisper-argue, then take a smiling, closed-eye kissing picture, then go back to squabbling before returning to their blissful-seeming pose to try to get the perfect shot.
Once she’d settled down from that rant, Nick asked her about what else was going on and Amy told him about the team, some injuries, and low-level gossip about the lads and the staff.
“Oh, and then Imogen went on a few dates with this absolute idiot who is terrible about responding to texts,” Amy was saying. “So I convinced her to backspace that mofo.”
“Backspace?” asked Nick, puzzled.
“Yeah,” said Amy enthusiastically. “Every time he fucks up or annoys her or ghosts a text I told her to delete a letter from his name. Once every letter is gone, you kick him to the curb.”
Nick laughed. “Hold on though, that’s unfair if someone has a shorter name!”
“Well, don’t fuck around and you won’t find out, Ick.”
“Ick?!”
“You heard me.”
Nick laughed again. “She’ll figure out that she deserves better than that.”
“Not without someone telling her that,” corrected Amy. “It’s easy to forget what you’re worth unless you're reminded of it.”
“Oh - yeah,” said Nick lamely. He had another urge to tell Amy about Charlie that he swallowed down. “No, totally.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Amy spoke again, and when she did, it sounded like her phone was away from her face. “Fuck, I just got a message about one of the reserves injuring himself on a goddamn scooter. I gotta call Doctor Darby; sorry to run babe!”
“No problem,” said Nick. “Good to talk to you!”
“Stay golden, ponyboy.”
Nick snorted as Amy hung up. She was a fucking riot; he couldn’t wait to see her and a bunch of the others soon, in just over a month, when a group of them were coming to Lavender Fields during the November bye week. November and the first half of December were usually some of the quietest periods, and Nick was glad he’d have them all there to break up the solitude. But before that, he knew he was in for it the next few days, with a nearly full ledger that upcoming week. Not that he minded it. A busy schedule meant less time for thinking about the things he missed.
-
For the next four days, Nick worked his arse off. The Instagram couple had left Monday, Nick smiling and waving and earnestly telling them to go fuck themselves in his head after watching their angry photo shoot with each other, sniping back and forth between smiling, kissing pictures that they immediately swiped through. After they left, Nick had a strange rush of people for the season, the house fully booked by mid-week, with all rooms full through the weekend.
Despite how busy he was, Nick still found himself at the laptop for a few minutes each day, looking back at Charlie’s reservation. Even with the time passing, Nick hadn’t lost the urge to reach out and just see how Charlie was doing. He…missed talking to Charlie.
The work was distracting, though, and that helped. Nick felt like he had been out of practice after it had been quiet for a few weeks, and now he was back in the thick of it and slowly regaining his muscle memory. By Thursday he was largely back in a routine, getting up to make breakfast, serve with a smile, clean, take care of the girls, get rooms tidied, work out, check reservations, tend to any daily chores, see the girls again, and then finally relax in the late afternoon or evening for a little solo time. The sun was hanging low in the sky and the light filling the room was glowing gold when Nick slumped on the couch in his living room to scroll his personal phone and watch something quality - anything with Patrick Swayze, like Road House.
He groaned when he heard the other phone buzz; the Lavender Fields phone. Sarah had smartly set the Lavender Fields phone number as a mobile number ages ago instead of having it be a line corded to the inn. It made it easier to travel and be out of the house, of course, and also made it easier for quick communications with guests, who could contact Lavender Fields on WhatsApp. Nick hauled himself to his feet again and picked up the phone, putting on his ‘professional’ voice.
“Lavender Fields, this is Nick?”
“Oh, um, hi! This is…Charlie? From a few days ago?” Nick sat down dumbly on the couch, his heart in his throat. Charlie? There was a pause. “Do you…do you remember me?”
Nick laughed; he couldn’t help it. Did he remember Charlie? “Of course I do,” he said, almost not recognising his own voice in his strangled attempt to keep it calm. Charlie! It was Charlie on the phone! Nick felt almost giddy; he had really hoped that Charlie was doing okay and it was brilliant to hear from him. “All right?”
“Yeah, all right,” said Charlie, and it felt like Nick could hear the smile in his voice. “This is so stupid. I’m not sure if I told you, but I have a younger brother - a much younger brother. A ‘blessed surprise’ you might call him.” Nick snorted. “He’s in year eleven and is setting himself up to study to be a large animal vet and is absolutely obsessed with animals.”
“Even more than you?” asked Nick, grinning into the phone.
Charlie laughed and Nick chest felt himself glow a little to hear his friend laugh. It was good to hear Charlie’s laugh again. “Way more,” Charlie said, then paused before going on. “Olly - sorry, his name is Oliver - he’s had a rough go for a couple of months, so anything I can do to make him happy, well - I like to do. And he keeps asking about the cows you had and I think he didn’t actually believe that I was hanging out with cows for a week.”
“Did you not tell him about the incredible owner you also hung out with for a week? The one with excellent puns and the best food ever?”
“Excellent puns, hm?” said Charlie. “I don’t recall anyone at Lavender Fields who fit that description.”
“Oi!” protested Nick, laughing.
Charlie laughed too. “But anyway - yes, I know this is ridiculous, but would you be able to send me some pictures of Henry and Nellie? I feel so stupid that I didn’t take any pictures of myself with them when I was there…”
“Don’t talk to my friend Charlie like that,” said Nick automatically, using the joke he’d always used with the Badgers.
“Oh,” said Charlie, sounding startled. “I mean-”
“Oh, sorry, I was just kidding,” Nick hurried to explain. “But seriously. Don’t call my friend Charlie dumb.”
The smile was back in Charlie’s voice, clear even though the phone. “Anyway - um, I mean - would you mind sending me one? Like just whatever you have in your phone, if you have any?”
“If I have any,” snorted Nick. “My phone memory is like 66% bovine at this point.”
Charlie laughed. “Well, yeah, that would be great.”
“Actually, give me a second,” said Nick, jumping up off the couch, energised. He tucked his personal phone into his pocket and pounded down the stairs, beelining for the barn, chatting with Charlie and asking about what GCSE courses his brother was taking. The light at this time of day was gorgeous, and Nick hauled himself over the fence, landing lightly in the paddock and striding up to a startled Nellie and Henry. Nick snapped a picture of Nellie as Charlie told him all about Oliver, mentioning that he was actually a massive Badgers fan.
“He was amazed that I stayed at a place run by the Nick Nelson,” said Charlie in a teasing tone. “I didn’t realise you were famous.”
“Extremely,” said Nick soberly. “This call is going to cost you a fortune; I charge in the triple digits per minute for fan outreach like this.” He grinned and sent the picture from his personal phone to the number Charlie was calling from, not bothering to send it to the Lavender Fields one first; it was just easier.
Charlie laughed, then gasped. “Oh my god, Nellie! She looks so adorable! That light is amazing.”
“Let me take a few more,” said Nick enthusiastically. He took a few of the sun setting over the house and then a picture of Henry, too, so no one got jealous. Charlie exclaimed at each one, making Nick glow. Nick stayed in the barn for another few minutes, taking a few selfies with each of the girls and stowing his phone back in his pocket.
“Oh my god, Nick, he is going to die,” said Charlie, sounding like the phone was away from his face, presumably looking at the pictures. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” said Nick. He hesitated as he headed back up towards the house, his footsteps suddenly feeling heavier. “How’s…everything?”
“It’s…all right,” said Charlie tentatively. “It’s still just, um, me. In the flat, I mean. He - Ben hasn’t come back yet.” Nick’s stomach tightened at the name.
“Oh. Well. Good. I mean, not good - but…” Nick trailed off as he made his way back up the stairs to his living room.
“No, I know what you mean,” said Charlie quietly. “But seriously - thank you for the pictures. Olly is going to love them.” He dropped his voice a little bit and Nick heard the tease back in it. “He is a little obsessed with you.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” asked Nick breezily, tossing his hair back as if Charlie could see it.
Charlie laughed. “Clearly fame has gone to your head. Well - thanks again, Nick. I hope you have a good night.”
“You too, Charlie,” said Nick.
“Um - well, bye.”
“Bye,” said Nick, hearing the call end.
Nick felt utterly pleased after the call. He was so happy to get to chat with Charlie again. Maybe even if Charlie was in London and Nick was here or in Leeds they’d still get to be friends. He fell asleep that night with that happy thought in mind, even idly wondering if maybe they’d meet when Nick travelled with the team to London, like the way Sarah kept in touch with a few of her long-term guests. Nick would really like that.
-
The next day, Nick swiped through the pictures he had taken the night before in the paddock, reflecting on how gorgeous the ones of Nellie and Henry were in the late afternoon light. Maybe I should add those to the Lavender Fields website, he mused. Sarah had never advertised that they kept livestock, but not for any particular reason. Maybe that would make some people even more eager to come. He scrolled through the pictures he had sent Charlie, then got to the selfies he had taken. In one of them, Henry had her tongue partially out of her mouth, clearly attempting to taste Nick’s hair. Nick laughed - he hadn’t noticed that last night. Without thinking, he tapped the picture and sent it to the message thread he had with Charlie from the evening before.
nnelson: Is this what they call hair moo-use?
It was only a minute before he got a response, a laughing reaction first, then a message.
07333 555 637: wow. I thought hearing these SPOKEN aloud were bad
nnelson: This is my dream, do you know how many puns you have to SEE written to make them really work?!
07333 555 637: new phone who dis
nnelson: Haha. Ewe know you love a farm pun.
Nick frowned, looking at the string of numbers on the message thread, adding Charlie’s number as a new contact to his phone.
C. Spring: nicholas…
C. Spring: i hope you feel sheep-ish
nnelson: CHARLIE YES
C. Spring: lol Charlie no
nnelson: Too late. You’re one of us now.
C. Spring: i take it back!
C. Spring: that picture though, i can’t
C. Spring: olly is going to die
C. Spring: i had no idea he was such a rugby fan honestly
nnelson: You’ll have to teach him all you know now that you’ve sat through an entire fixture with someone in the ‘biz.
C. Spring: omg great call i need to tell him i watched a whole rugby thing with a future coach of the badgers
nnelson: I am honoured that you remembered the team name even if not the name of an actual rugby fixture lol
C. Spring: hey take what you can get right? lol
C. Spring: are the cows behaving today?
Nick grinned down at his phone for the next hour, he and Charlie going back and forth with some light banter. It was easy to message with Charlie, just like it was easy to message with Danny or Seamus or James or Amy. And to Nick’s thrilled surprise, it kept going.
-
They ended up messaging most days, even if it was just a message or two here and there. Charlie was just as great over text as he was in person - funny, witty, and kind. He asked Nick about the farm and the cows and rugby, and Nick asked him about his job and movies and music. Nick knew from some mild Google stalking where Charlie worked and his job title, and he was genuinely interested to hear more about it and the whole publishing process. Nick found himself not fully trusting his notifications, often opening the message thread and pulling down to refresh to see if he may have missed a message.
Nick didn’t ask about B. Hope at all; he hoped that everyone had been wrong and the Earth actually was flat and that B. Hope had accidentally sailed off of it in a stupid dumb sailboat. Nick also knew a fair amount about B. Hope now, too, from some more-intense Google stalking. He had found Ben’s LinkedIn page, rolling his eyes in unsurprised annoyance to discover an endless stream of pretentious finance-bro posts, including one that showed Ben sitting in an expensive car, smirking at the camera.
People have told me I’m ‘too confident’ at work.
And that I should tone it down sometimes.
But look at where I am and where they are.
#enoughsaid
Not only did Nick hate
The stupid way
That douchebags sometimes
Formatted LinkedIn posts like that
To try to look important, but…
He also just hated B. Hope. While Nick didn’t know a lot about Ben and Charlie, of course, Nick had some guesses. He’d seen lads like that on his teams in the past, guys who oozed confidence and arrogance and had an air that they ‘permitted’ people to be in their lives. They knew how to make people want them, and he’d seen guys like this totally ‘love-bomb’ women (Amy had taught him that term) to reel them in, and then draw away, making their partners desperate to get back that once-loved feeling. Her ex, Caden, had been that type, she had told him. Amy had described it as Caden trying to make her ‘earn’ affection, but then constantly moving the try line on her. She said it had been exhausting, and a tiny part of her was actually relieved when she’d discovered him cheating on her, at least in retrospect.
And every day that Nick messaged with Charlie, he always wondered if Ben had come back, and if Nick would see that in Charlie’s messages. It had been nearly four weeks of messages when there were a few days where Charlie’s responses were much shorter than usual, the normal banter missing. Nick tried to keep himself from worrying, but he felt his mind spinning back to old patterns, wondering if B. Hope had come back and if Charlie had ended up…being with him again. That thought made his stomach twist. Nick couldn’t forget Charlie’s worry; this worry and sentiment that he might have to be okay with settling; that it was a small pool of people to date; that asking for more was selfish or greedy or hoping for too much. After a full week of the change in Charlie’s messages, Nick had taken to pulling down on the app more and more the last few days.
He was looking at some old messages from Charlie now in their thread, feeling both nostalgic for the conversations they had had and annoyance at himself for being so sensitive and stupid. Then he saw Charlie was typing - three dots. His heart squeezed as he watched Charlie type, then disappear. Typing, gone. Finally:
C. Spring: hi
Nick was typing before he even thought about seeming too eager.
nnelson: Hi
C. Spring: okay so
Nick’s heart seized. “Okay, so…” could go in so many directions. “Okay, so…Ben and I are back together.” “Okay, so…you’ve been messaging me too much and it’s annoying. “Okay, so…we’re getting married again and want to have the wedding at Lavender Fields!!!! Omg will you cater it?!”
C. Spring: ben came home
C. Spring: came back
C. Spring: and it wasn’t the best ha
Nick could feel his fingers tightening around his phone.
C. Spring: i ended up moving out
C. Spring: but it’s been really hard to find a new place, especially paying solo now
C. Spring: and i found one, but they are in the middle of some major remodels so it’s like 4 weeks before i can move in
C. Spring: …
Dots. Gone. Dots. Gone. It went on for a full minute before Nick’s anxiety got the best of him, his mind whirring through possibilities. Unable to take it, he tapped Charlie’s contact to call him.
“Hi,” said Charlie, sounding a little embarrassed but maybe a little pleased as well?
“Hi,” said Nick, trying to control his breath, despite sitting still. He tried to put some cheek in his voice. “What were you writing there, Shakespeare?”
Charlie snorted. “Well, I - so, yeah. I said in my message that I found a new place, that one where they’re doing work. Like, major work - new floors and a new kitchen and stuff; it was legitimately all I could find on short notice like this that wasn’t a million pounds a week.” He took a breath, sounding anxious. “And I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible-”
“That fucking wanker made you leave?!” Nick burst out, having exerted a Herculean effort not to respond to that piece over text.
“Well, not exactly,” said Charlie in a small voice. “I…I mean, yes, I chose to leave. But it was kind of like that, you know? I chose to leave and find my own place. Even though it had been mine first and I loved it, I, like, decided it was worth it. To be able to choose to leave and choose to find my own flat.” Charlie paused, and then said that again. “I chose to do that,” a tiny glimmer of something like confidence in his voice.
Nick felt his chest swelling with joy as Charlie spoke, the anger deflating out of him as Charlie explained. “That’s brilliant, Charlie! I’m so proud of you.”
Nick’s split-second worry that he might have sounded patronising to Charlie evaporated when he heard the shy pride in his voice. “Thanks, Nick.” There was a pause, and then Charlie spoke again. “Which, yeah. It does actually feel really good. But I wanted to get out as soon as I could, and so I need a place to go for the next few weeks.” Nick tapped his heel as they spoke, his leg bouncing. “I’m staying with Elle and Tao right now,” explained Charlie, “But they have a one-bedroom and it’s really small. And they both mostly work from home - and they’ve been so great about it, but I know it’s annoying to come home and have someone living in your living room every second, you know?”
“I’m sure they’re not annoyed by it,” said Nick. “But I know what you mean. It’s also really hard to not have your own space, especially for that long.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “And I’m getting a discounted first month when I do move into the new flat because of the work they’re doing, so I have a little extra money to work with.” Charlie took a deep breath before he rushed through the next part. “And Elle suggested that maybe I see if you had room and if I could stay for, like, a reduced rate? Like a long-term rate? I know you mentioned that fall and winter are quieter, and I’d only need to go to London for work two days a week and could stay with Elle and Tao those nights. But also you don’t have to say yes and I know you might be booked up and-”
Nick finally interrupted Charlie, the grin nearly splitting his face. “Of course you can stay, Charlie!” he said, thrilled at the possibility. “Yeah, November and December are really quiet months, typically; it’ll be great!”
Charlie let out a relieved-sounding sigh. “Seriously?!”
“Definitely,” said Nick firmly. Then he had a quick realisation. “Oh god, one caveat, though.”
“Oh no, would I have to stay with the portrait people in the hallway?”
Nick laughed. “No, nighttime is when they like to fly around the house whispering to people what time of day they’re going to die.” He chuckled again at Charlie’s theatrical shivering sound. “I have some of the rugby team members coming in soon and staying for a few days, but that’s no worries. There’s plenty of room. And they're all a lot of fun; I think you'll really like them."
“Are you sure?”
“Of course,” said Nick, feeling dead chuffed.
“That’s great, thank you so much,” said Charlie, his voice entirely different from when they started the call. “And would you…” he paused, sounding uncertain again. “Would you consider like, maybe 10% or something off? Some sort of reduced rate?”
Nick considered for a half a second. “What about just a trade instead? Would you consider helping get my mum’s recipes published or bound or whatever as a gift to her? In lieu of paying for the room?”
Charlie let out a soft gasp. “Oh my god, Nick, I love that idea! And I will one hundred percent do that. But I insist on paying something, too, that’s so long to stay without paying.”
“Well I insist on a five-star review. Oh, and you have to laugh at my jokes at least twice per day. Or at least pretend to.”
Charlie groaned. “Twice? This is extortion!” Nick belly-laughed.
They went on chatting for a while, though Nick had a bit of trouble following the conversation fully to banter and talk logistics, the smile plastered across his face. They had been messaging for a few weeks and it was the same easy friendship and banter that they’d in person over messages. But this was even better - to get to hang out with Charlie again. And for nearly a full month, too, so much longer than when Charlie was there the first time. When they eventually hung up, Nick headed to the barn with the grin still on his face to tell the girls. Charlie was returning to Lavender Fields.
Charlie was coming back.
Notes:
Vegan carrot waffles
Ingredients:
1 c all-purpose flour
1 c wheat flour
2 Tbsp ground flax meal
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp cinnamon
1 c finely grated carrot (use the smallest side of a grater that is not the ‘zest’ size
2 c unsweetened almond milk at room temperature
¼ c melted coconut oil
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 Tbsp maple syrupMix the flours, flax meal, baking powder, cinnamon, and a generous pinch of salt in a large bowl. Set that aside. Mix the grated carrot, almond milk, coconut oil, vanilla, and maple syrup in a medium bowl. Fold the wet mix into the dry mix until it is just combined.
Preheat a waffle iron. Use just under a cup of batter per waffle. Cook until golden brown and top with your favourite toppings.
Chapter 7: Amy
Summary:
Last time: Nick moped. Charlie messaged. Nick called. Charlie is coming back.
This time: Charlie is back. Amy arrives for the Badgers’ bye week.
Notes:
Okay, listen, Lavender Fields Nick and Charlie. I told you that chapters were going to be four thousand or so words. I did not sign up for chapters that approach 8K. So if you could get your shit together and stop making the chapters progressively longer and longer, I would appreciate it.
Also, yes, I updated the chapter count. These dumb dumbs won’t be done by my original outline estimation (of course they won’t). It may go up again. I am broken. They have broken me.
Dearest waveofyou and NellieSayzBork: How are you? I am fine. How is the family? I just wanted to write to tell you that I loved the sweater you sent me and that - whoops, I mean that you two literally make my inbox and days brighter. The comments, the brainstorming, the menace-ry: I am so lucky to have you as friends in my life!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
As it turned out, the next week was going to be a busy one at Lavender Fields. Charlie would come in on Tuesday night, Amy was coming Wednesday, then Danny, James, Regan, and Tex were all coming on Thursday. Seamus would be coming on Friday night following his London match and joining for the remainder of the weekend, with everyone taking off Sunday. Charlie would be coming back after that of course, after his two days in London.
Nick was so excited to see Charlie again.
Nick and Charlie had messaged and exchanged a few phone calls about the logistics of Charlie’s stay, with Charlie still firmly insisting that he needed to pay some sort of amount. In the end, Nick had agreed to a weekly rate that was about 45% of the daily rate, though he had only done so to appease Charlie. He’d already decided that the payment system was going to be down the day that Charlie checked out.
Charlie had coordinated with his workplace so that he could work in person on Mondays and Tuesdays and complete everything remotely the rest of the time. Nick had called Lavender Field’s internet company and had very patiently explained to Amanda J. about the increased Wi-Fi needs of the bed and breakfast, gritting his teeth and explaining it again to Amanda J.’s manager Martha N. when Amanda J. said her hands were tied. In the end though, both the data rates for Lavender Fields and Nick’s cortisol levels were higher, and the former made the latter worth it.
Nick had ended up sharing some of Charlie’s story with Amy, though he had been vague, not knowing how much Charlie would want or not want to share. He ended up just mentioning that he had gone through a breakup after being a guest at the bed and breakfast and would be staying for a few weeks. Amy was thrilled at the idea of meeting him, asking eagerly if he’d want to do the new workouts she’d designed for her and Nick while she was there. Nick immediately replied that Charlie was busy then, and come to think of it, he thought he was busy, too, so sorry. Danny, James, and the rest of them were unbothered by the idea of a guest being there as well, as long as Charlie was prepared with a “robust defence against sound-related nighttime activities.” Nick mentally reminded himself both to warn Charlie and lend him some of his noise-cancelling headphones.
As Tuesday evening came closer, Nick felt a tiny seed of anxiety plant and start to root in his chest. What if it was…different when Charlie got back? Nick bet that it was stressful to live in a small space with Elle and Tao, even if they were Charlie’s best friends - just in that there was always someone to have to make small talk with, even after a long day of work. Maybe Charlie wanted to live like…an actual guest this time? Come to think of it, Nick bet that Charlie did. He’d just ended an engagement and had to move out of his flat - his flat (Nick still wasn’t over that) - and now had to live at what was essentially a hotel. Nick felt a little stab of fear thinking of that; thinking of Charlie as a…guest. After they’d spoken about Charlie coming back to Lavender Fields, Nick had imagined the two of them in the same way that they’d been when Charlie was there before, with Charlie as a mix between guest and friend. Nick really hoped it would be like that again, but worried that it would change this time.
On Tuesday evening, Nick checked the time over and over, re-looking back at Charlie’s “leaving now!” message and its timing, repeatedly putting in the London neighbourhood where Charlie said Elle and Tao lived, mapping to Lavender Fields. As Nick’s calculated arrival time became imminent, he busied himself with baking and cooling the welcome snack he’d made as a quick dessert, as Charlie had mentioned that he’d eat dinner in the car on the way down from London. When finally there was nothing left to do, Nick stood in the dining room, occasionally craning his neck to look out the window and absentmindedly thumbing at the frayed cuff on his jumper sleeve.
When Nick saw headlights swinging into the drive, the flash illuminating him and making him jump back from the window, he scrambled into his shoes and headed out the door to greet Charlie. Nick stood on the front porch grinning like an idiot as Charlie’s car pulled up, a clean black Volkswagen Golf. Nick crossed his arms to give himself something to do with his hands and saw the door on Charlie’s side open, Charlie stepping out. Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the porch, Nick uncrossing his arms and walking across the porch to meet him as Charlie came up the stairs.
“Hi,” said Nick.
“Hi,” replied Charlie, a grin on his face, making Nick’s anxiety immediately disappear.
There was a tiny pause before Nick extended his arms and they both surged forward to hug, arms and chests meeting in a tight, clasping embrace. Nick gave one final pulse to Charlie, pressing his hand against Charlie’s back to pull them in for one last squeeze before releasing his hold, Charlie looking a little pink in the ears.
“So, um,” said Nick, his own ears feeling warm at Charlie’s return despite the chill in the night air. “Where are your bags?”
“In the boot,” said Charlie. “Let me-”
“No, let me-”
“I’ll help-”
“You’re a guest -”
“Nick, I’m basically a bed and breakfast parasite for the next four weeks-”
“Don’t para-fight me on this-”
“Oh god, Nick, too soon.”
“Twice a day, Charlie, you know the deal,” said Nick with a sanctimonious smile.
“Ha. Ha ha ha.”
“Thank you.” Nick laughed and trotted over to Charlie’s car, Charlie popping the boot. Nick hauled Charlie’s large suitcase and smaller duffel out, noticing the definition in his own arms and feeling good about it. He might be out of the professional rugby game, but he was glad he’d stayed close to the same shape as he was when he played, all of the farm chores helping a lot. Charlie had decided that he’d just bring a bunch of stuff to live at Lavender Farms for the next few weeks, with a small rotation of outfits and toiletries for Elle and Tao’s and the rest of his things in storage until he got into his new place.
Charlie trailed behind Nick as they went in the front door, then stopped dead in his tracks, sniffing the air. “Oh my god, it smells so good in here!”
“I made something new,” said Nick, smiling and setting the bags down for a moment. He watched as Charlie took one of the glazed lemon cookies from the plate on the dining room table and took a bite.
Charlie chewed for a moment, then closed his eyes and made a sound of soft satisfaction, Nick’s stomach squeezing in pride.
“Ohmygod Nick, these are so good.”
“Thanks,” said Nick, feeling warm. He had made the lemon cookies to greet Charlie, thinking that they were a little like Charlie himself: overall sweet and soft but with a perfect amount of sharpness and bite to them. “Um, let me just bring this up to your room.”
“Am I in the same one as last time?”
“Yep,” confirmed Nick. “This way you’ll be as close to me as possible in case the rugby hooligans get too out of hand.” Charlie laughed, but it seemed a little tight, and Nick hurried to explain. “No, they’re - they’re truly all good people,” he said. “Just…shenanigan-forward. But they’re all good people, and everyone is happy to have you here..”
Charlie relaxed a little. “I - I know,” he said with a small smile. “I guess I just…I didn’t have the best experience with the sporty lads when I was in secondary school. They tended to be the twattiest. But from everything you’ve said, these guys sound great.”
Nick felt another vise tighten in his stomach, knowing what some of the teams he had been on had been like. He hoped - god, he hoped - that Charlie knew that Nick wasn’t like that. And that the rest of the lads weren’t like that, either. Nick wouldn’t let anyone in this house that would disrespect Charlie for just…being who he was. “They are,” assured Nick, leading the way up the stairs as Charlie followed him. They got to the top of the flight and went down the hallway to Charlie’s room, Nick shouldering the door open.
“Tell me a little bit more about them,” said Charlie. “Who should I be expecting tomorrow?”
Nick grinned. “Well, tomorrow is just Amy, then the rest get there Thursday, mostly. For her, expect a small Canadian goblin. She’s about 18 feet of personality stuffed into a 5-foot frame. Rinses me endlessly-”
“I like that,” Charlie interrupted with a grin.
“Of course you do, you menace,” said Nick, laughing. “Don’t even think about hinting that you want to get a workout in or else she’ll design some torturous plan for you and her to do together. She’s the bane of my existence and is one of my best friends.” They were in the room now, and Charlie was starting to put things around the room, Nick leaning against the doorframe as they spoke.
“And the blokes?” asked Charlie in a laddish, jokey voice. “We’ll bin some pints together, yeah, mate?”
Nick laughed. “I mean, I can’t deny the booze piece. But yeah, I think you’ll like them a lot. Shea - Seamus - he’s probably my best mate. We were on the Badgers together for a long time and we were both assistant captains until he was traded.” Charlie tilted his head in an empathetic, questioning sort of way, and Nick waved it off. “Yeah, that sucked, honestly - he just got traded at the start of the season before this one. He’s a bit more serious of the lads you’ll meet, so the lads love to mess with him. He gets so annoyed; it’s great.”
Charlie laughed. “Okay, bruv.”
Nick laughed, too. “I mean that in a loving way.”
“Of course you do.”
“Then there’s Tex - uh, Walker. God, took me a second to remember his real name,” said Nick. “Walker Ridley. He’s from…”
“…Switzerland?”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, he’s from Texas. We’re not too original with nicknames sometimes. If you think I’m bad with puns - me and him and Danny are the co-founders of the Bad Dad Jokes Club. Danny likes to call us “The Daddies’, though, to make literally everyone uncomfortable.”
Charlie giggled and it gave Nick that same thrill to hear the sound again. “I hope you’re president of that club.”
“Oh, we have titles.”
“Of course you do.”
“I’m Associate Vice President of One-Liner Based Humour, Tex is the Director and General Consul of Quips, and Danny is the Down-Under Underdog of Overly Complex Wordplay. And Junior Associate of Marketing. But, yeah, Tex is great. He’s a twin, and his brother Hunter is in London and does drag.”
“Is his brother…” Charlie looked questioningly at Tex and gave a limp-wrist gesture, making Nick laugh in shocked surprise. “It’s okay, I’m allowed to make that joke.”
Nick chuckled again. “His brother is gay, yes,” he confirmed. “Tex is not, he’s dating this awesome girl - woman, I mean, sorry Amy,” Nick looked skyward as if seeking forgiveness from above, “This woman Regan, she’s coming too. Very low-key and down-to-Earth, you’ll like her, I bet.”
“Okay, so we have Amy and…Tex? And Regan.”
“Right,” said Nick. “And then there’s Danny and James. They’ve been together - what…four years? Five? But they’ve known each other for ages.” Nick knew some of Danny and James’s story - how they’d met in Uni, but neither one had been out back then. He didn’t know much of the details, but knew that they’d gone over seven years of hiding their feelings for each other, and their sexuality from the world. He of course knew what it was like when they came out to the team. That…would be hard to forget. “They came out when we all played together. It was a - it was a big deal. They were the first to come out in the League.”
“That must have been…yeah,” said Charlie. “I can’t imagine that was easy.”
“Me neither,” Nick agreed. “But they did and they’ve been openly together ever since. They’re so different,” he said with a little laugh. “But they work perfectly together. James is quieter for sure. He’s really smart, really thoughtful. Just the kind of bloke you want on a team. Cares about his teammates, considerate, grounded. Then Danny is…” Nick grinned. Just thinking about Danny made Nick smile. “He just exists…loudly.”
Charlie laughed. “What?”
“Like… everything. He’s just…loud. His voice is loud, his clothes are loud - he’s always got some new idea, which is usually both incredibly risky and so fun. Sometimes it feels like he’s one of those four year olds who needs a leash for his own safety. But he’s also one of the kindest and most authentic people in the world. And he loves everyone hard. He’d do pretty much anything for anyone - especially James, though.”
Charlie smiled softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick. “Oh god, I remember a few seasons ago - James got injured and was out for a few weeks and was really down. Danny somehow…nicely cyberbullied?…John Legend into recording a quick video for James wishing him well.”
Charlie laughed in amazement. “Seriously?”
“As Danny would say…deadset. But those guys don’t all get here for a few days like I said; they all spent some downtime in Leeds and with family and stuff before they came here. And, oh!” Nick snapped his fingers excitedly and Charlie jumped. “Oh, god, sorry,” said Nick, Charlie laughing and clutching at his heart. “Saying family…I was thinking this week, your brother, Oliver?”
Charlie looked at Nick curiously. “What about him?”
“You have to get him out here this weekend,” Nick said, already excited. “You said he’s a Badgers fan, right? Well, what, three current lads from the team will be here, plus me and Shea who both used to be on the team. We always end up playing a pickup match when we’re all together; reckon he’d want to come out to meet them and see the cows, too?”
Charlie gaped at him a second, and then his face split into a brilliant grin. “Oh my god, Nick, that is brilliant!” Nick beamed back, glowing with pride at Charlie’s reaction. Charlie jumped up, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Which day do you think would be better? Saturday?”
“Definitely,” said Nick. “Seamus will be here Friday night and then everyone leaves Sunday, so Saturday would be best for sure.”
Charlie smiled again, and it felt like it was for Nick. “I’m going to call my mum and see if she’ll either drive him halfway or if Olly can take the train over.”
“Over from where?”
“Oh, from Kent!”
Nick started. “You grew up in Kent?”
“Yeah - wait, did you?!”
“I did!”
They quickly figured out that their childhood homes had been a mere 10-minute walk from each others’. Nick had gone to an elite boarding school that had been known for its rugby program so they’d never run into each other, though it was likely they could have ended up at the same local secondary had Nick not gone away. They were about to get into the “do you know” game when Charlie swore and slapped himself on the forehead. “Shit, I still have to call my mum! Especially before it gets too late, she’s a little - well, I just want to call her before it gets too late.”
Nick laughed. “Oh, yeah, that. Go call her!”
He busied himself as Charlie dashed off, getting up from the chair in Charlie’s room where he had somehow found himself sitting as they spoke. He headed down to the kitchen to get some stuff ready for the week and weekend, slicing fruit and peeling vegetables for the quiche that he was making for Charlie.
It was a little while before Charlie came downstairs, his footfalls heavy and a scowl on his face as he came into the kitchen.
Nick glanced up. “You all right?”
Charlie leaned back against one of the counters and crossed his arms, looking frustrated. “She refused.”
“What?! Why?”
“She does this sometimes,” muttered Charlie. “She just..says no for no reason. Just like - shuts me down. It’s like she decides even before I speak, then just digs in her heels.”
“That sucks! Did she even give you a reason why?”
“She said a bunch of stuff,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “About being too tired, about Olly needing to study, about not wanting to drive, even though I offered to meet her halfway or even have him take the train. He’s too young and I’m not giving her enough time to think about it and she thinks it’s ridiculous I’m staying here …”
Nick felt an invisible hand squeeze his stomach again. “She…why doesn’t she want you to stay here?” He tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice. He had this sudden fear that Charlie would end up leaving when Nick had planned on four weeks with Charlie. The feeling was far more intense than it should have been.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing about here,” Charlie said quickly, looking like he felt guilty for Nick’s reaction. “She just thinks I should be there. Living with her and my dad and Olly. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to spend more time with Olly…but god, living with her?” Charlie shook his head emphatically. “I don’t…” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to go right to another person who doesn’t make me feel heard.”
Charlie lapsed into silence and Nick had the urge to hug him again, to tell him that he only deserved people in his life who authentically listened and made him feel heard. He was opening his mouth to try to say something like that when Charlie looked up, his eyes looking embarrassed. “Sor-”
“Toll,” blurted Nick.
Charlie tilted his head to the side, utterly confused. “What?”
“Every time you say sorry unnecessarily, I’m going to charge you a…toll.”
Charlie let out a surprised laugh. “A toll?”
“You heard me,” said Nick, trying to force down his grin and failing.
“And what’s the toll, Nicholas?”
Nick smiled. “A rugby fixture. Every time you say sorry unnecessarily, you have to watch a full rugby match with me.”
“Sounds homophobic; I’m out,” Charlie deadpanned.
Nick let out a startled laugh himself this time. Was that okay to make jokes about? Well, I guess Charlie can, like he said… “Fine. Rugby match or movie of my choice. And you have to pick between whatever those two options are.”
Charlie scoffed, pretending to be irritated. “Deal.”
Nick raised an eyebrow and extended his hand, and Charlie laughed and mirrored him. Nick clasped his hand briefly and shook it, his fingers catching a little on a callus on Charlie’s warm, otherwise soft palm as their hands slid back apart.
Charlie cleared his throat. “Okay. Not sorry. Just - yeah. She can be a lot. And just…let me know if that’s ever stuff you don’t want to hear about.”
Nick tried to give Charlie a jocular, no-nonsense look. “Charlie. I promise there will never be stuff I don’t want to hear about from your life.”
Charlie looked a little startled and blushed before sighing deeply, seeming to ground himself. “My mum is just…not an easy person. And yours seems so - perfect?”
Nick chuckled. “Don’t tell her that, it’ll go right to her head.” He smiled and pulled out his phone to open his pictures, bringing up a picture of Sarah wheeling a full wheelbarrow stuffed with lavender flowers during last spring’s harvest, Charlie cooing over the photo. “She is pretty great,” he admitted, looking at the picture for a moment himself before closing his phone. “Yeah, she’s wonderful. My dad and brother, though…” Nick couldn’t help his voice hardening a little and Charlie looked up, seeming surprised at his change in tone.
“They’re not like her?”
Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “Dead opposite, really.” He sighed and sat down his kitchen tools, leaning back against the counter. “They were both dicks when I was growing up - my dad cheated on my mum all over town - and then when Danny and James came out, they said some, uh, some stuff.” He looked down, feeling ashamed by association, the fury rising in his chest as he remembered it. “It was - pretty awful. Then one of the guys on David’s team came out a few months later, because of Danny and James, you know?” Charlie nodded, his eyes on Nick’s face as Nick spoke. “And that, like - humanised it for him? Which is so fucked that he had to know someone who is gay to realise that gay people are just…you know, human, but…” He broke off, letting out another angry exhale. “So he’s changed a little. We still don’t talk much, though.”
Charlie’s eyebrows were knitted together, his expression making Nick feel truly listened to. “And your dad?”
It didn’t feel like when Nick’s old rugby lad friends asked about his dad, a famous retired player, when they were searching for gossip. It didn’t feel like the prying media questions he used to get, digging for a story. It didn’t even feel like the cone of respectful silence that the Badgers had kept around Nick’s family, never asking or talking about his dad and brother unless Nick brought them up (which he didn’t). It felt like Charlie was opening a door for Nick, welcoming him but not forcing him to talk. It made Nick…want to share.
“We don’t talk…at all, really,” Nick said, gripping the counter behind him. “He kind of - we stopped talking as much when I was drafted by a ‘shite’ team, then not at all after I laid into him about what he said about Danny and James.” Nick gave a harsh laugh, not feeling humorous at all. “Well, I guess I stopped talking to him, really. He still likes to call and leave the occasional voicemail to let me know what I could be doing better. Or did, at least, when I still played. Now that I don’t, I don’t even get those any more.”
Charlie made a small movement towards Nick, and then seemed to stop himself. “That’s awful, Nick. I’m so sorry.”
Nick shrugged. “It’s fine. I had mum.” He forced a grin, though it wasn’t as hard to do when he was talking about Sarah, as great as she was. “And she is pretty fantastic. You might end up catching her depending on how long your construction in the flat goes. She’ll be here the first part of December, then she’ll be back for Christmas Day before she takes off again.”
“I’d love to meet her,” said Charlie, giving Nick that smile, the soft one that showed his dimples.
“I’d love that, too,” said Nick, returning the look with a smile of his own. There was a quick, comfortable silence before Nick straightened up. “So, yeah. I guess we all have our family shit, right?”
Charlie nodded ruefully. “You’re right.”
“Well, we’ll make a video for him this weekend,” said Nick. “Oliver,” he clarified, clocking Charlie’s confused look. “We’ll record a video and send it to him, then that lot will all be back again for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. So maybe we can plan for that and you and your brother can come up then. Oh, or when they all come this spring for the second bye week!” He grinned at Charlie. “We’ll make it happen.”
Charlie’s mouth was pulling up at the corners, his dimples working again. “Yeah?”
“Of course,” said Nick. He glanced at the clock. “Shit, I didn’t realise what time it was.”
Charlie looked up, too. “Oh! Me neither. I have to exchange my labour for money tomorrow; I should go to bed.”
Nick laughed. “I have to prepare for a Canadian monster to arrive. I’ll distract her during the work day tomorrow, but I can’t promise I can keep you safe from her after work. If she tries to get you to go for a run with her, just freeze - her vision is based on movement.”
Charlie laughed too. “Got it. Like a dinosaur?”
“Exactly.”
Nick grinned at Charlie as he gathered up a few last things and headed up the stairs, wishing Nick goodnight. Nick returned the sentiment and finished a few things before heading to his room and laying down, feeling full and happy and anticipatory for everyone else to arrive. He hoped that Charlie liked them. He hoped - knew - that they’d like Charlie. But most of all, he hoped Charlie was going to be happy for the next four weeks in his temporary home at Lavender Fields.
-
“Nicky.”
“Hnk.”
“Niiiiiiicky.”
“Mrrmff.”
“NICHOLAS!”
“Wazzat?!” Nick jolted awake, pulled away from some pleasant dream. Nick couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, only a sliver of the last moment - just a flash of colour, brilliant blue.
“Wake up, bitch!”
“Amy?” Nick’s eyes were finally fully open and processing the world around him. Instinctively he yanked the covers up to cover his chest. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”
“You really should lock the door between the main house and your living quarters,” Amy scolded, tsk-ing as she ripped the shades open, fully blinding Nick. “You don’t know what kind of hooligan guests are going to be here and might break into your room.”
“What time is it?”
“Half-eight. Did you sleep through your alarm?”
Nick picked up his phone and blinked at it a few times as his eyes cleared. “Fuck. Yeah. I guess I did.” He hadn’t fallen asleep for a few hours after he’d said goodnight to Charlie, his brain filled with ideas for things to show Charlie chasing in circles as he thought of new things. “How’d you get in the house? I realised too late that I forgot to give you the new code.”
“Charlie let me in,” said Amy cheerfully. “We talked for a while and he tried to get me to let you sleep in. It was so cute how he thought he had any control over that. He’s fucking adorable and so great, I love him and want him to be my best friend; you are sadly dead to me. ”
“That’s reasonable,” Nick mumbled, stretching long and yelping when Amy poked him in the stomach. “Geroff!”
Amy laughed. “You have three minutes. After that I’m forcing Charlie away from his computer and getting him to come join me in assaulting you until you get out of bed.”
Nick felt a squirmy panic at that and pushed himself halfway out of bed. “I’m up, you crone, I’m up.”
“Two minutes, 43 seconds,” called Amy as she breezed out of his room.
“Demon of Toronto-borne hell,” muttered Nick as he got out of bed. He dressed quickly and brushed his teeth, padding out into the kitchen, a little disappointed that Charlie seemed to be working upstairs instead of in the dining room. He shook it off though and fell into conversation with Amy, Nick cooking breakfast (and bringing some up to Charlie, chuffed at the glowing smile on Charlie’s face when he quickly stepped away from a Zoom meeting to get it and thank Nick). They chatted for an hour and then Amy went with Nick to help with the chores, going down to the barn and assisting with feeding the cows. Nick dashed off a quick note to Charlie before he and Amy took off for the afternoon, letting him know that lunch was in the fridge (a curried chickpea salad that Nick was quite proud of) and when they’d be back.
Nick and Amy headed to town to get a load of groceries and, more importantly, alcohol. Nick knew what bye weeks were like and he wanted to be sure Lavender Fields was as physically ready as possible, though it was impossible to prepare her emotionally for what debauchery was due to arrive. Amy asked a bit more about Charlie and what had happened with B. Hope. Nick found himself gesturing angrily as they drove and he railed about what had happened to Charlie, Amy emphatically agreeing with him.
“That asshole sounds exactly like Caden,” she said darkly, shaking her head. “Poor guy. Charlie seems so great.”
Nick opened his mouth to respond in enthusiastic affirmation, then realised how much he’d been talking, much like it had been with his mum. He settled for nodding instead. “Yeah.”
“Well, thank god he’s out of that,” said Amy. “Fucking men, I tell you.”
“Fucking men,” agreed Nick, having learned a long time ago that this was the only acceptable response. He glanced over at Amy, itching to change the subject now that he realised how long they’d been talking about Charlie. He didn’t want to feel…gossipy about Charlie. Charlie deserved better than that. He glanced at Amy and put on his “spill the tea” voice. “Speaking of fucking men…”
Amy gasped and looked delighted. “That was so crass, Nicholas Nelson! I love that for you!”
“What? Oh - oh.” Nick laughed. “Oh god, no, not like that. More like - speaking of ‘men, those whom can be fuckers’ - you dating anyone?”
Amy shrugged. “I’ve gone on a few dates. It’s just so busy though, you know?”
Nick knew. After things had ended with Marla just about a year ago, he’d had barely any time for dating with the season in full swing. And then he’d come to Lavender Fields…what, five months ago now? Nick had gone on a few apps the first weeks after he’d come to the bed and breakfast, now that he was no longer playing, but then things had gotten so busy that he’d had no time to even think about dating. And now, just pondering dating - well, that seemed…that gave him an odd, unsettled feeling, thinking of scrolling through women’s pictures and then doing the 3-18 days of small talk before meeting up for a drink. It all just seemed so…impersonal. “No, I get it,” he agreed, pulling himself from his thoughts as they bumped back up the road to Lavender Fields.
Amy helped him bring in everything, and just after they finished the last load, Charlie came downstairs, stretching his back. Nick grinned and Charlie grinned back before twisting his spine back and forth a few times.
"God, I’m so glad to be done,” Charlie said, wincing as he turned. “That was brutal today - I almost never have that many meetings. I hate sitting that much.”
“You want me to stretch you out, babe?” asked Amy.
Charlie darted his eyes over to Nick quickly, who smiled. Charlie would get used to her soon. “Um…sure? Yes?”
“Great,” Amy enthused. “We’ll go for a quick, easy jog first and then we’ll stretch together. Sounds good?” She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head questioningly at Charlie, who stifled a giggle as Nick waves his hands silently and frantically from behind her, shaking his head drawing his finger across his throat in warning. Amy whipped around and Nick widened his eyes in innocence.
“Uh - yeah,” said Charlie, nodding and smiling. “I actually could use some movement.”
“I knew I liked you, Charlie,” said Amy approvingly.
They both went and changed, Nick heading to the kitchen to start dinner for all of them. As they headed out the door, Nick heard Charlie tell Amy that he had thought of going the physiotherapy route in Uni until he took a creative writing course from an incredible professor that had changed his perspective and set him on the path to publishing, Amy slapping his arm and squealing that they would have been best friends in another life.
Nick grinned to himself again as he got to work, pulling out one of the cookbooks that Sarah kept to try a lemon chicken thigh recipe, along with something called Hasselback potatoes. Those fuckers were intricate, though, and Nick had finally just gotten everything in the oven after over an hour when he heard Amy and Charlie’s voices coming from the front of the house, then shifting around to the back porch. Nick had the kitchen window cracked with the heat from the stove and oven, and their voices travelled in as he set about making the vegetables and salad. He idly listened as they stretched, Amy helping Charlie with a few movements before they settled in the wooden Adirondack chairs in blankets that Amy pulled from the basket that Sarah kept on the porch, their backs to the kitchen window. It was quiet for a few moments.
“So - your ex.” It sounded like Amy and Charlie were continuing a conversation that they must have had on their run. Nick wasn’t surprised. People tended to open up to Amy - Nick included - and it sounded like those two probably had a lot to commiserate on with fucking terrible exes.
A sigh.
“How’d he even tell you he was back in town? I think that’s where we left off.”
Nick both wanted to interrupt and tell Amy to back off from making Charlie think about that asshole while another part of him wanted to let her run and get the whole story about Ben out in the open. She had a particular skill for making people feel comfortable sharing with her, which Nick had learned over and over. His wondering won out, though, and he remained in the kitchen, cowardly and curious as he quietly prepared food and listened to Amy and Charlie talking to each other on the porch, both wrapped in blankets. They were looking over the lavender fields. The fields were dormant right now, a dulled green colour. Sarah had always mentioned that to Nick - how continually astonishing it was to see the muddled, tired-looking field transform into brilliant, vibrant blossoms come spring.
Charlie snorted. “He texted and said, ‘I’m back. Where are you’. No period, no question mark.”
“I mean, think of the millionth of a second he saved,” said Amy sarcastically. “Efficiency, Charlie.”
Charlie gave a dark chuckle. “So I said I was at home, though that felt like a weird thing to say, too. Like - whose home, you know?”
Nick could see Amy’s head nodding. “I assume he came over, right?”
“Yep,” said Charlie. “Comes in and tosses his keys in the bowl, kicks his shoes off and drops his jacket on the floor - like always - and then asks if ‘I’m ready to talk now’.” Charlie imitated Ben’s tone, a patronising and mocking sneer.
“Talk,” Amy growled. “ You had talked. He freaked out like a baby-back bitch and refused to speak to you.”
Charlie laughed. “Right. And I was immediately on edge, you know? Like…he was the one who had said that about Olly.” Nick felt his stomach clench and his jaw tighten, wondering what Ben had said. “And then he had said I was being selfish, and then that maybe I wasn’t worth marrying and that I was too much trouble and too high maintenance and no one wanted to sign up for that for life…” Charlie broke off and Nick wanted to both go outside and tell Charlie how worth it he was till he believed Nick while actively punching Ben in the taint endlessly. “Sorry to lay this all on you,” said Charlie, sounding like he was rubbing his hands over his face. “I - saying it out loud is…”
“I know,” said Amy gently. “You don’t want to say it out loud or tell people because when you actually say things, you realise how bad they sound. And you know exactly what your friends would say.”
“Yes,” said Charlie with another long sigh. “That’s it exactly.”
“I totally get it, babe,” said Amy, clearly already at ease with Charlie. “I went through that with my ex as well.” She dropped her voice a little and Nick had to strain to hear, hating that he was doing it but unable to stop himself. “There were a lot of things I didn’t tell my friends and the guys on the team. Especially Nick.”
Nick saw Charlie’s head turn towards Amy and his own eyebrows furrowed in confusion, hearing her say that. He was glad when Charlie asked. “Why especially not Nick?”
“Well, first of all, he’s like a brother, so there’s that ‘protective Nick Nelson’ factor to it,” explained Amy. “But beyond that…” She trailed off for a moment. “I don’t know. He’s just, like - good, you know?” Nick could feel his ears turning red and he flushed, considering bolting again but his curiosity and ego winning yet another round. “Like - I don’t think he can understand how people don’t treat the people he cares about the way he thinks they should.”
Charlie’s voice was quiet. “That seems…yeah. He was…he’s done so much for me. Like - I only stayed here for a week. But it feels like - I don’t know. It feels like I’ve known him so much longer than a week?” Nick felt a half-panicky, half-happy flutter at that; feeling the same way and grateful Charlie did too. “And one of the things he said to me before I went back and talked to Ben…” Charlie took a deep breath in. “It really helped me. It helped to have someone say that I…deserve more than I was getting.” Nick took in a gulp of air, suddenly aware that he’d been holding his breath.
Nick could hear the fondness in Amy’s voice. “He and his mum are fantastic,” she agreed. “You landed at the right bed and breakfast, Charlie fucking Spring.”
“I think I did,” said Charlie, nodding. “And now I-” And then Nick dropped the goddamn pan he was holding in the sink, his soapy hand betraying him. Amy and Charlie whipped around from their chairs, Charlie’s face looking stricken with embarrassment as he saw Nick through the window.
Nick rinsed his hands and shook them dry, moving quickly away from the sink. “Sorry,” called Nick, opening the back door. “I didn’t see you two were out there!”
Charlie’s face relaxed and Amy grinned. “What’s going on with those butterfingers, Nelson?”
Nick’s burning face cooled a little in the evening air. “I’ll show you how un-buttery these fingers are this weekend.”
Amy raised an eyebrow. “You somehow showed both how terrible you are at trash talk and how terrible you are at dirty talk with one sentence, Nelson. Though I am sure you were talking about the rugby match.” Nick’s ears burned again and Charlie laughed loudly. Amy grinned. “And speaking of this weekend - Charlie, are you ready for a little scrimmage this weekend?”
Charlie’s laugh evaporated immediately. “What? Like - a rugby scrimmage?!”
Amy nodded. “Have you played before?”
“No…” said Charlie.
“This motherfucker didn’t teach you how to play yet?” Amy gestured incredulously to Nick.
“No?” Charlie replied again, bemused.
Amy turned to Nick with a scolding look. “Nicholas Nelson, you jabroni. There are about to be fifty-“
“Five,” Nick corrected to Charlie, whose eyebrows had shot up.
“-Fifty rugby players here this weekend, all of whom will want to engage in a pick-up rugby match plus me and Regan, and they’ll need an eighth person, and you haven’t taught this speed demon to play?” She looked at Nick, shaking her head. “Have you seen him run?!”
Nick shook his head, grinning. “Do we have a secret weapon?”
Amy nodded vehemently. “He’s so fast!”
Charlie turned to Nick, a cheeky look on his face. “You didn’t mention that there was going to be a mandatory rugby match this weekend.”
Nick protested. “I didn’t - I didn’t know if you’d want to play! It’s a group of giant rugby idiots, I wasn’t sure if that was your thing!”
Charlie tilted his head. “Why not?”
Amy mirrored Charlie, tilting hers too. “Yeah, Nelson, why not?”
“Do you think I’m too small to play rugby?”
“That is so rude, Nick. Very size-ist of you.”
“You think I’m too weak to keep up with men whose entire professional life is playing a sport where they maul one another?”
“I agree with you, Charlie, do not stand for this insult.”
“I think he’s calling me small and weak, Amy.”
“For shame, Nicholas.”
“Oh god, the two of you together,” Nick sighed, burying his head in his hands, then laughed. “And ” he said, pointing at Charlie with an exasperated grin. “This is coming from the man who asked me why the players weren’t getting a penalty kick when they picked the ball up with their hands during the match we watched together!”
Charlie giggled and Amy grinned. “Okay, fine, you have me there,” Charlie admitted. He shook his head at Amy, dropping the sass. “I am very, very happy to not play rugby, I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Charlie, this is not up to me, you are playing,” said Amy firmly.
“It very much seems like it is up to you,” said Charlie, looking at her suspiciously. “Also, I thought you were on my side here?!”
“I’m on the side of winning, Chazzie,” said Amy and Charlie snorted. “Nope, this is not my choice, not with the speed like you just showed on that run,” she insisted. “Regan and I join in too and neither of us play; it’s not, like, tackling or anything, just touch rugby. Please? Nick will show you how to play, right Nick?”
Nick smiled and nodded. “Please come play,” he said to Charlie. “I’d like you to play.”
Charlie gave a shy and genuine smile. There was a pause while Charlie seemed to consider it and Nick held his breath. “Okay,” he said finally.
“Really?” asked Nick excitedly.
“Yeah, as long as you promise I won’t get hurt!”
“I promise, no one will hurt you,” said Nick earnestly. Charlie grinned again, the tips of his ears pink against the cold.
Amy tilted her head, taking the two of them in with a grin for a moment before jumping to her feet and resuming her usual briskness. “Great!” she said. “I have some phone calls to make. It’ll stay light out for what, another 30 or so? Chop chop, Nicky, you have some instructing to do.”
Nick glanced at his watch. “Yeah, and that might work perfectly, actually. Dinner should be ready at about the same time, too.” He looked at Charlie and smiled. “You in?”
Charlie gave him a plaintive look, nodding sadly with his eyebrows drawn together. “I’m going to die, aren’t it?”
Nick grinned and extended a hand to pull Charlie to his feet, Charlie’s hand warm from being tucked under the blanket. “Now where is your can-do attitude?”
“Oh, she left. Long ago.”
Nick laughed. “Come on, then.”
They headed to the pasture, Nick using one of the paddock fences as an impromptu try line marker, giving Charlie prompts and getting him to re-explain how to score. Within 15 minutes, Nick had Charlie running a few quick dodges, truly astounded at how fast Charlie could move. Nick felt his phone buzz and glanced at it to see a message from Amy letting him know that she’d get dinner finished and on the table and to take another 30 or so if they needed it.
The automatic outdoor fairy lights that Sarah hung on the outside of the paddock fence blinked on as Nick and Charlie continued to drill and practise, the soft, white-yellow light illuminating their movement as they laughed and yelled, Nick feeling like he was back in secondary school messing around like a kid again. Charlie was gaining confidence as they continued to try to dodge around each other, Nick waiting a few extra seconds before he moved each time to give Charlie a fighting chance. Charlie was grinning, looking like he was having as much fun as Nick was, his face alight with his smile and the glimmering lights occasionally catching his eyes.
“Hey! Dinner, you lot!” Nick heard Amy shout across the road, the door to Lavender Fields opening as she popped her head out and then shutting again.
“Okay,” said Nick, setting himself up in a three-point stance like a runner about to start a race and smirking at Charlie. “Last play, C. Spring. Time is winding down. It’s the last phase of the fixture. Your team is down, and every one of your teammates has been taken ill with scabies. It’s all you. You just need to get past the best, most talented, dashingly handsome-”
“-Don’t forget endlessly humble-”
“Yes, that too - most incredible, humblest fly-half in the world. Can you do it, Charlie?” Nick made his face as mock-intense as he could. “Can you make it past this world-class athlete and win the entirety of the Champions Cup for your team, your nation, and your two biggest fans?” He gestured without looking at Nellie and Henry, whose curious faces had nosed over the fence as he and Charlie played.
Charlie laughed. “If I don’t, it’s because someone slowed me down with too many lemon cookies.”
“Excuses, excuses. And - go!”
Charlie dodged left, then right, the ball tucked under his arm and a grin wide on his face. Nick waited a few seconds and then lunged, but Charlie deked again and did a neat spin away before Nick caught his footing and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s middle from behind and pulling him backwards as softly as he could, Charlie landing with an amused oof sound, his back against Nick’s chest.
Charlie released the ball and spun around on his knees to face Nick, a look of faux-indignation on his face. “I thought you said there would be no tackling in this scrimmage, Nicholas Nelson!”
Nick sat up, his breath coming fast and heat rising to his cheeks in the cold air. It took him a moment to think of what to say, though the grin didn’t leave his face. “I can’t let you defeat me on my own turf!”
Charlie laughed and pushed himself up, Nick doing the same. They stood in the near-darkness, Charlie’s outline illuminated by the lights behind him, hung in graceful swoops on the fence. Even in the dark, Nick could see a blush on Charlie’s cheeks. “Do you think - was that okay? Am I going to embarrass myself?”
“No!” said Nick emphatically. “Definitely not. You’re going to be brilliant.” He honestly couldn’t wait to see Charlie join them.
Charlie smiled again and opened his mouth when Amy yelled again that it was dinner time and if they didn’t eat a healthy balanced meal no one was getting dessert, do you hear me? No one. Nick laughed and led the way back to the house, the two of them walking toward the welcoming glow of the open door, a hot meal waiting for them inside. Nick felt aglow as they walked in together. After nearly four weeks, Charlie was back.
It was so lovely to have Charlie back.
Notes:
Lemon Cookies
Ingredients
1 ¾ c all-purpose flour
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
1 Tbsp lemon zest
½ c (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 c sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 Tbsp lemon juiceLine a baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk the dry ingredients together with the lemon zest. Beat the butter and sugar until it is fluffy, then beat in the egg, vanilla, and lemon juice. Continue to mix while slowly adding in the dry ingredients. Form into small balls (heh), rolling with your hands. Bake for 12 minutes, then cool for 5 on the baking sheet before moving them to a wire cooling rack. Drizzle with glaze (below)
Glaze ingredients
1 c powdered sugar
1 Tbsp lemon zest
1 to 2 Tbsp lemon juiceMix all ingredients in a small bowl with a wire whisk. Drizzle the glaze over the cookies when they are cool.
Chapter 8: Badgers
Summary:
Last time: A Canadian goblin arrived.
This time: A mixture of European, American, and Australian goblins arrive.
Notes:
Another week, another chance to bask in the loveliness of humans - specifically the people in the Heartstopper Facebook group (it kills me to not respond to the truly lovely posts!) and then of course, waveofyou and Nelliesayzbork. Wavey is writing Narlie Waves and makes me feel things regularly, which I resent because feelings are dumb. [Kidding wavey I am sorry and I love you.] Wavey does that while while being an incredible human who makes other humans lives' brighter. NSB is writing As You Are and is just showing such a tender, nuanced hand at what it can look like to rebuild and discover new things. NSB also does this while being an amazing human who makes a specific effort to make the work they impact better. How lucky am I to have both of them in my life? And you all and your kind comments, too? In tough work weeks, this makes everything so much brighter! Thanks for joining me on this journey ❤️
Here's your weekly chapter 😍 Keep an eye on Rugby Sweater Weather over the next few weeks for the second-to-last epilogue!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dinner was nice, except for the parts where Amy and Charlie ganged up on Nick, which was the entirety of the meal. Nick laughed loud and often, feeling more alive than he had in a while. It had been hard since leaving the Badgers. Nick was used to being around people nearly every day: the lads in the changing room and on the pitch, the fans during fixtures and events, the team staff when they were at the stadium. He’d been around people at Lavender Fields, of course, and that had helped. But it was…different. His place here was dipping in and out of people’s lives quickly, being a friendly face that they’d see and then forget. Being back with Amy, though - that was like going back to a warm, well-known home. Charlie, too. He and Charlie hadn’t known each other long at all - six weeks by the calendar - but Nick felt like he’d known Charlie for ages longer than that. Charlie and Amy together were terrible and wonderful. Nick loved it.
They ended up spending a long time at the table, Nick and Amy telling Charlie more about everyone coming and regaling Charlie with some stories from the Badgers, including the infamous annual Breakfast Blowout. Nick and Amy were talking over each other, Charlie giggling as they explained it to him.
“Okay, so pre-season can be pretty tough, you know?” Amy was saying. “You’re coming back from a couple months off, you’re getting back in season shape, there are usually new guys joining the team and that’s an adjustment for everyone…”
“You have angry physios assaulting you-”
“Encouraging you…”
“Right, and like Amy said, it can be tough. So Wilco decided a few years ago that there needed to be some sort of surprise day off and event for team bonding-”
“…And unfortunately, he let Danny plan it the first year…”
“And that went exactly as you might expect.”
Nick and Amy laughed as they described the yearly Breakfast Blowout, where the captains had worked with Coach Croft to determine a day off from training. There was an all-team message that went out that morning cancelling practise and telling the players where to be instead. They’d show up to a space with a buffet of breakfast food, of course, but also with a slip-n-slide that was covered in syrup, orange juice, beer, and champagne. The mimosas were endless and there was always a maple syrup chugging contest at some point.
“You’re looking at a four-time champion, Charlie,” boasted Amy, tossing her head.
“That sounds…horrific,” said Charlie, laughing and grimacing.
“Oh, it was,” agreed Nick. “The chugging contest always immediately transitioned to a vomiting contest where everyone loses.”
Charlie groaned and laughed again. “Aaaaand I hope you didn’t make a dessert tonight. Because now I don’t want it.”
Nick chuckled. “Sadly, no. I’ll make some when everyone gets here though. I have a few special things I’m thinking about.”
“Love that journey for us,” said Amy, getting up. “That’ll do it for me; I need to rest up for the rest of these goons coming in tomorrow.”
“I should go to bed too,” said Charlie, stretching so that his shirt pulled up a bit, exposing some of his stomach. He yanked it down again, blushing slightly, and Nick averted his eyes. “I’ll see you two in the morning?”
“I’ll have breakfast ready,” smiled Nick.
Amy and Charlie wished Nick goodnight, Amy pinching his cheek and Charlie giving a little wave. Nick set up a few things for the morning and then got into bed, scrolling through his phone pictures to cycle through a few favourite Badgers memories. He paused on a picture of a group of them one year at the team New Year’s Eve party one season when they’d had an international match. It had just been the team and staff for that party, and Nick smiled to himself looking at the faces - Danny, James, Wilco, Amy, Seamus, Tex, Stig, Lunker, Decker - all of them. He really couldn’t wait for the team to get there tomorrow (and Friday, for Seamus).
Some of the team had come to the bed and breakfast when they played together during some of the bye weeks and during the summer. This would be the first time that they’d be coming when Nick was running Lavender Fields (and not part of the team), and it was going to be a fucking blast. Nick had always loved it when people came over to his flat in Leeds. He loved being in the kitchen, making things with his hands for the people in his life to enjoy, with everyone nearby, laughing and talking. Nick…missed that. He missed being geographically close to everyone, but he also missed being part of the team. He knew it was going to be different when he came back as a coach - he’d need to have a different relationship to everyone in that leadership role. This week would be one where maybe - hopefully - he’d be able to feel like he was truly a part of the team again.
Nick missed the feeling of community and inclusion and understanding how he fit into the world more than he knew how to put in words. He had just felt so - connected, maybe, when he played. Like he was grounded and rooted in relationships that fed him. He still had most of those relationships, of course, but breaking up with Marla and then retiring from rugby had shown him that he craved that deeper connection. At least he’d had that feeling this week, even if it was temporary.
Nick set his phone on the table next to him and rolled to his side, tucking a pillow under his arm to cuddle it as he always did. He knew that the Badgers would like Charlie. He hoped Charlie would like them, too.
-
The next day, Charlie and Amy both joined for breakfast, Charlie excusing himself for work fairly quickly after complimenting Nick on the raspberry Dutch baby that Nick was very proud of. Amy and Nick did the chores and then a workout as they waited for everyone to arrive. Arrival times weren’t a mystery at all for their group; Danny had insisted years ago that they all turn on Find my Friends so they’d be able to track one another. Everyone on the team had eagerly done it besides Amy, who insisted that it would ruin her mystery. Nick and Amy periodically checked everyone’s locations throughout the day to see when everyone would get there. It looked like Danny and James would arrive just behind Regan and Tex, right around lunch time. Nick made a vegetable lasagne to have something easy on hand if people came hungry.
A few minutes before everyone was imminently due, Charlie came down the stairs, stretching as he did.
“God, it smells good,” he said. “You’re going to ruin me for Elle and Tao’s, I’m going to expect three meals a day from them when I’m there on Mondays and Tuesdays.”
Nick laughed. “You should message Tao and send him a shopping and recipe list to feed you when you’re there.”
Charlie laughed, too. “I bet that would be so well received.”
Nick grinned back. “Reckon he’d run you out of Tao-wn?"
Charlie covered part of his face with one of his hands. “Oh god.”
“Get ready, there’s essentially two more of me coming in the next few minutes,” said Nick.
“Ugh, he’s right,” called Amy, coming down the hall. “Charlie, please don’t leave me alone with them.”
Charlie laughed and started to respond when they heard a car coming in the drive, the sound of the wheels telltale on the crushed shells. “That’ll be Regan and Tex,” said Nick, opening the door to see Charlie hanging back, still inside. “Charlie? You coming?”
“Oh, I didn’t…I don’t want to - don’t you all want to catch up?”
“Yeah, and we want to introduce you, too,” said Amy with fond exasperation, trotting back inside to push Charlie out the door by the small of his back. “Come on, you absolute boob.”
The three of them stood on the porch while Regan and Tex popped out of the car, coming up the stairs and seizing Nick and Amy in hugs and accepting the beers that Amy pressed into their hands.
“Howdy,” said Tex, tilting an invisible hat to Charlie and extending his hand.
“Oh my god, people actually say that in real life?” murmured Charlie, shaking Tex’s hand back.
Tex laughed. “No, not really, just like to play up the stereotypes,” he said cheerfully. “Glad to meet ya, though!”
“Likewise,” said Charlie, turning to shake Regan’s hand. She smiled and politely pushed his hand aside to give him a hug.
“Have you not gotten used to it from Amy yet?” she asked, pulling back and grinning at Charlie. “We’re a hugging people.” They all were. Nick loved that about this group. Marla one time had made them take some Love Language test and Nick had scored really highly on Physical Touch and something called Words of Affirmation.
“So, Nelson, where are we staying? Are there any portraits in our room this time?” asked Tex.
Nick laughed. “No, they’re only in Room 5 and then in that hallway, why?”
Tex grinned. “I like that one in room 5, the angry-looking woman one. She looks like she’d tell me off if she knew I’d been bad.”
Charlie snickered and Nick shot him a grin. “Sadly, only Danny and James will be judged by her glassy stare,” Nick told him. “Sorry to ruin your plans.” He turned to Charlie. “But Charlie, I’d be willing to risk inevitable haunting by moving them if you’d prefer that I move all of them in your room instead!”
Charlie’s smile faded and he looked mildly terrified, making Regan and Tex laugh. “I would never sleep again,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “No thank you.”
“Smart man,” agreed Regan emphatically. “Those are fucking terrifying, Nick.”
“They’re harmless. Until they bite off your toes to suck out your spirit.”
“Nick!” Charlie squealed at the same time that Regan swatted at him, Nick covering his head and laughing. He heard a thumping bass before he even saw a car, lowering his hands with an expectant grin on his face. “And then this will be Danny and James,” he said to Charlie, rising up and walking over to the edge of the porch, folding his arms.
A black Range Rover came up the drive, going faster than was entirely reasonable. That would have to be James as the driver - the car was the only place where he was more reckless than Danny. Nick laughed as he immediately recognised the song pumping from the speakers, an electronica dance version of Take Me Home, Country Roads. Nick had a core memory of a folding table collapsing at a rugby house party when Seamus did an elbow-drop through it to this song.
The driver’s side door to the car opened and James stepped out, grinning in sunglasses. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up, showing off his ridiculously defined arms. James walked up onto the porch to a chorus of yelling, hugging Nick, Amy, Tex, and Regan enthusiastically and accepting the beer that Tex immediately handed to him. James noticed Charlie hanging back and smiled, leaning forward and extending his hand.
“Hey,” he said warmly. “Nick said that he had a friend staying. You’re Charlie, yeah?”
Charlie looked startled, then his face relaxed into a smile. “Yeah, I am,” he said, shaking James’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
“James?” asked Amy. “Why is your man still in the car?”
James sighed in equal parts affection and exasperation. “He’s waiting until he has everyone’s attention, you know that. He’s…well, just wait.”
The group turned toward the car to give Danny his due, the tinted passenger side door opening to reveal the toe of a boot. Danny slowly extended his leg with the door still only half-open, displaying cowboy boots tucked into acid-washed jeans. Nick laughed aloud as Danny swung the door fully open and got out to reveal his full outfit: jean coveralls (with no shirt under), a cowboy hat, and his full-ass cowboy boots, chewing on a piece of grass.
“He made me stop to pick that piece of grass for him to have in his mouth, you know,” remarked James as they all watched Danny swagger up to the porch, the rest of the group laughing.
Danny did an exaggerated, hip-swinging walk as he went up the porch stairs, tipping his hat at each of them, saying, “ma’am”.
Regan laughed. “Danny…why?”
“Ol’ Tex here grew up on a ranch,” said Danny with a terrible Southern American accent. “Then we’ve got farmer Nick. I wanted to fit in with the locals, really look the part. Y’know, be like a cow.”
He glanced at all of them, letting the silence stretch until Amy finally broke it, rolling her eyes. “Like a cow how,” she asked in a deadened voice, shaking her head in already-burgeoning disappointment.
“Outstanding in my field.”
Amy, Regan, and James groaned and the rest of them laughed, Danny dropping the act and launching himself at each of them to affectionately hug the lot of them, nearly tackling Nick with his enthusiasm.
“Oh, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky boy, I’ve missed you,” Danny crooned, rocking them back and forth and mussing Nick’s hair as he laughed. “And not just because you’re one of The Daddies who understands my jokes unlike this absolute drongo god that I live with and love with all my soul.”
Charlie snorted and Danny released Nick and whipped around, a look of delight on his face. “I heard we had an extra this week,” he enthused, seizing Charlie in a tight hug. “Remind me of your name?”
“Charlie,” squeaked Charlie, looking as though he needed a bit more oxygen than Danny’s tight embrace would allow him. Nick knew from experience that Charlie was probably momentarily worried about his bones being crushed.
“Charlie!” exclaimed Danny as he finally let him go. “Welcome to a weekend of goon and goons; you’ll fit right in.”
Charlie looked puzzled and Tex laughed. “He means drinking and idiots, which is us.”
Charlie laughed a little nervously as Nick ushered them all inside, the group chatting with beers in hand, all glad to be there and together. Charlie had to excuse himself and dart away quickly to get back to work, and Nick remembered to tell everyone where they were staying.
“Okay, Tex and Regan, you’ll be in Room 1, where I think you stayed before. Danny and James, you’re banished downstairs to Room 5 for repeated health and safety violations.”
Danny beamed. “One time my Apple Watch gave us a noise notification that we exceeded the safe hearing limits!”
Nick closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head while James looked a combination of mortified and pleased. “Charlie’s in Room 3, so Amy, you’ll be in Room 2 and Seamus when he gets here will be in Room 4.” Danny nudged Tex, who grinned. “What?” asked Nick.
“Nothing,” said Tex, the shit-eating smile still on his face. “I just love seeing Mother Nick in his element, all checklists and clipboards.”
“Seriously, you’re a beauty of a man,” said Danny, toasting Nick with his beer.
Nick rolled his eyes and laughed. “Shut up.”
“Love you too, my little poppet.”
The group headed up to their rooms to drop off their stuff and change before grabbing a rugby ball and heading outside, stopping by the cows to say hello and then playing around a little in the same spot that Nick and Charlie had practised the night before. It felt so good and right to be playing with these lads again, though Nick wished Charlie was with them, too; that had just been so fun the night before. After a couple of hours, they headed back inside, sweaty and loud. Everyone trickled off to have showers and lay around a bit before gathering back in the kitchen, James turning on music and making cocktails while the rest of them chatted and made predictions about Seamus’s match the following evening.
“What time are they playing - half six?”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “So he won’t be here until what - 10:30? Unless it goes into extra time?”
“Well then tonight we go to bed at a reasonable hour so tomorrow we can watch Shea’s match and afterwards we can stay up late and talk about what we’re thinking and how we’re feeling about what we’re thinking and make friendship bracelets,” said Danny. “And get legless.”
“That, too,” agreed Tex.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a pleasant blur, everyone catching up and exchanging stories from the summer. Tex and Regan had spent a few weeks in Texas, and Regan was retelling stories of her culture shock, including ordering what she thought would be the light option of a pork chop to have a 32-ounce monstrosity brought to the table. They’d had a great time, though, and Tex boasted about Regan’s roping ability he’s taught her, which made Danny light up and start to ask pointed questions before James elbowed him to be quiet. Danny and James had likewise gone to his sister’s place in Australia and hung out with Danny’s niblings, Danny affectionately showing a multitude of videos and pictures of James with the kids.
Everyone hung out in the kitchen as Nick cooked, which Nick truly loved. He had made pizza dough earlier and shaped it into rounds, setting out a ton of toppings and letting everyone go to town to make a truly personal pizza.
Nick excused himself to go to Charlie’s room, gently tapping on the door. Charlie opened the door and smiled at Nick, and Nick smiled back for a moment before he remembered why he’d come up.
“Do you want to come down for dinner? I made pizzas, so everyone can pick their own toppings and make what they like. I remembered that you’re a monster who said that you like olives, so I even committed the ultimate sin and bought a jar for you.”
Charlie grinned and nodded happily. “Just wait - try them on pizza and I bet you’ll change your tune.”
“No, I prefer to keep my pizza pure and devoid of salty hatred.”
Charlie laughed. “You have not lived, Nick.”
“So, do you want to come down? That lot was all saying they wanted to chat with you more,” said Nick, which was true.
“They…do?” asked Charlie, his dimples appearing with his puzzled grin.
“Uh, yeah?” Nick was puzzled right back; of course they wanted to get to know Charlie better. Who wouldn’t?
“I, uh - yeah, that sounds nice,” said Charlie. “I’m done now, I’ll come down with you.”
“Great,” said Nick, grinning and backing up to wait for Charlie to shut his computer. They headed downstairs and there was a cheer when the group saw Charlie walk in, Charlie’s blush evident in his neck even from Nick’s view behind him.
“Charlie Spring. Springtime. Springer Spaniel,” said Danny with a giant smile. “We’ve never gotten to interact with Lavender Fields guests before; Sarah forbade it. Things have really gone to shite with Nicky here at the helm.”
“Sarah is just smarter than Nick is,” Nick said, rolling his eyes at himself. “She knew that business would evaporate if I turned you lot loose on poor, unsuspecting guests.”
“Charlie’s a guest,” Danny pointed out, cheek in his voice.
“Charlie’s a fruest,” Amy said, hugging Charlie from behind and making him jump, then laugh. “A friend-guest.”
Nick had been opening his mouth to say something similar - that Charlie was a friend, not a guest, but closed it at Amy’s response, which was better. And probably more correct.
“No, I’m a tenant of this landlord,” said Charlie, pointing at Nick. “He’s letting me stay here for way longer than he probably should while the flat I’m moving to gets fixed up.”
“New place, huh?” asked Tex. “What made you move?”
Nick cringed internally and he saw Charlie’s jaw tighten a little. “I had it out with my ex-fiancé,” he mumbled. “He ended up staying at the old place, so I got myself somewhere new. New place, new life, you know?”
“Hell yes,” said Amy firmly, pushing a glass of wine into Charlie’s hand. “And no conversation about exes without alcohol, ever.”
“Bloody oath,” agreed Danny, toasting his drink at Charlie. “Fuck. That’s shit, mate. On a scale of 1 to fuckwit, where does this wanker land?”
“He’s a nine point Caden,” Amy chimed in, and James and Danny growled, Nick glowering a little too. “Worse, actually.”
“Fuck that guy,” muttered James. “Both of them being ‘that guy’.”
“Oh, so this one is a true fuck knuckle,” mused Danny. “What, did he-” Nick glanced at Charlie the same time that Danny seemed to, noting the miserable look on Charlie’s face. “Right, shut the fuck up, Turner,” Danny said, referring to himself by his own last name. Danny had a huge mouth but he also had a keen sense of other peoples’ emotions, and Nick was grateful that he’d clocked that it was time to move on. “Well, maybe he’ll drown in a dunny soon trying to hang out with his friends, the fellow pieces of shit, and we’ll all have a belter to celebrate, yeah?”
“Dunny means toilet,” James informed Charlie, and Charlie snorted. “I’d be so lucky,” he said. “But yeah - Nick’s been really kind to let me stay here for a bit while the new place gets ready.”
“Nick’s a gem,” said Regan, the rest nodding and making Nick blush madly.
“He’s as fine as a frog hair split four ways,” added Tex with extra twang in his voice, making them all laugh.
“He’s…okay,” said Amy, deadpan.
Nick took out his phone and spoke into it. “Siri, what is an anti-bullying hotline number I can call?” He caught Charlie’s grin as the group laughed again.
“How long are you here for?” asked James to Charlie.
“I think four weeks or so,” said Charlie. “They said it would be ready during the first part of December.”
“I feel like those things always take so much longer than they say,” said James, shaking his head. “It’s so annoying. When I moved to Leeds to play for the Badgers, I was supposed to move into my place in, like, a month. But it ended up taking over three. I think Wilco was ready to strangle me by the end of it.”
“Don’t lie, you made up the fact that the work got extended to keep eating Annette’s cooking,” said Nick.
“I mean, good cooking is a strong incentive to stay somewhere,” said Charlie with a grin at Nick, making him flush with pride. Who knows, maybe Charlie’s construction would get extended and he might end up staying a little bit longer. Nick wouldn’t mind that.
“Speaking of,” said Danny in a whiny voice. “I’m so hungry I could eat a shit sandwich on the keto diet and even have it without the bread. Can we eat?”
There was an outburst of disgusted laughter and Nick started sliding pizzas in, pushing the group over to the dining room to get settled in.
“How’d you two meet?” Charlie asked Regan politely, indicating her and Tex.
“She fell for my boyish charm and chivalrous wiles,” said Tex, laying an arm around her shoulder. “And her knowledge that I’m a dynamite person to have around if you’re hung over in the morning.”
Charlie cocked his head in puzzled interest and Regan laughed. “God, I hate this story,” she said.
“You don’t have to tell it,” assured Tex.
“I know,” she said, smiling at him. “We met on a rollercoaster in Sweden. The Monster roller coaster, to be specific. We were both with friends and were the odd people out and got paired up to sit together. I got so nauseated during the ride and dashed over to the bin afterwards, and Walker here followed me to hold back my hair. He said it was too pretty to ‘blow chunks in’.” She made air quotes and put on an American accent on the last phrase.
“Amazing dinner talk,” said James, taking a polished sip of his wine and making Danny laugh and nose into his neck to kiss it quickly.
“That’s…amazing,” said Charlie.
“And disgusting,” added Regan.
“Well, I didn’t want to say that…” said Charlie, grinning and making everyone laugh, and Nick just felt so, so happy. He knew that Charlie was going to fit in with everyone and they were all going to love him, but seeing it live was gratifying. Charlie looked at James and Danny, James’s hand on the back of Danny’s neck, just resting there. “And you two?”
“We met in uni,” said Danny. “We were freshers in the same dorm together. Roomies,” he added, squinting his face playfully at James.
“And you’ve been together…since then?”
Nick saw James’s face change a little, a combination of openness and regret and love as he looked at Danny. “No, that…that took a bit,” he said, nodding at Charlie and maintaining eye contact. Nick snuck another glance at James and at Danny, who was looking only at James, his face an unreadable mix. Nick knew a little about Danny and James’s past, but none of the details.
“Fucking worth it though,” said Danny cheerfully, breaking the energy up. “Now I get to live with Superman - c’mon, Charlie, admit he looks like Henry Cavill, am I right? - and get to pash him every single goddamn day. One hundred percent fucking worth it.”
Charlie had looked a little worried when James had answered him, the tension draining from his face at Danny’s easy attitude. He raised his wine glass. “Well, cheers to that.”
“Amen,” chorused Amy and Regan.
“Gay-men,” agreed Danny, toasting Charlie and making him laugh. The rest of dinner was great, the group telling Charlie stories about Seamus and other members of the team that weren’t there.
After dinner, they headed into the parlour, Danny and James cuddled together on the loveseat. Amy sat on the floor in front of Regan, who was using her perched position on the touch to give Amy a scalp massage. Tex was sitting next to Regan, leaning back on the couch and laughing and chatting with the team. Nick was on the other couch, and smiled at Charlie, who joined him on the free end and gave a shy smile back. Nick was glad that Charlie had come out to hang out with them; he had hung back after dinner, looking towards the stairs like he wasn’t sure if he was going to go up or not.
“Should I…I might go up to my room,” Charlie had said quietly to Nick as the others had gone toward the parlour. “Since I have to work tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Nick said, trying not to look crestfallen. He really wanted Charlie to get to know everyone and see that a group of rugby lads could be kind and fun and welcoming. “Are you sure?”
“Well, you’re also all - like, friends, you know? Like, dinner is one thing, since you’re now a bed-and-breakfast-and-other-meals,” said Charlie, Nick chuckling. “And I don’t want to interrupt like some…” Charlie paused to do a quick calculation. “Seventh wheel?”
Nick smiled. “I’ve been the fifth or sixth or seventh wheel for a while, so come join. I wheel-y want you to.”
Charlie tilted his head and looked at Nick with utter disappointment, Nick breaking to laugh, then Charlie following him, giggling too. “You wheely, wheely do?”
Nick gasped. “Charlie, yes!”
“Charlie no,”said Charlie, already laughing and shaking his head at himself.
“Come on, you two, Nemo isn’t going to find himself!” called Danny from the parlour.
Charlie laughed lightly. “Are we really watching Finding Nemo?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Danny insists that it’s positive Aussie representation and it’s both homophobic and xenophobic to not have it on at least once a month. But we usually ignore any movie and just talk anyway.”
So now Charlie was with him on the couch, and Nick was chuffed to see how well Charlie got on with everyone, not that he didn’t think he was going to. Charlie was just so easy to be around - and funny, and kind, and interesting - and he wasn’t surprised at all that the group seemed to like him immediately. He was sassy with Amy and laughing at stories from Danny and Tex and engaged in conversation with Regan and James. Nick drifted in and out of following the conversation, mostly just pleased to have everyone there. As he listened and occasionally interjected, his gaze wandered, eventually falling on Danny and James, their hands intertwined.
Nick had seen them exchange way more PDA before (sometimes an amount that was hard to forget), but for some reason, his eyes stayed on their hands, fingers laced together. There was something about the sight of two large and tan, masculine hands that felt…Nick didn’t know - unusual? But not, like, bad unusual. He’d always see straight couples holding hands, or movies or TV where a heterosexual couple were holding hands, with close-ups that featured their connection, fingers connected. Nick reflected on the fact that he’d never really looked at two men holding hands, and even though it wasn’t something he’d seen much, it was just…nice. Nice that Danny and James felt comfortable enough with all of them to do that without thinking, nice that after four years together, they still felt that need to hold hands, Danny’s thumb mindlessly stroking against James’s index finger as they spoke.
“Oi, Nicky?”
Nick started. “Yeah?”
Amy grinned. “You good? Did you take an edible after dinner that you’re not sharing with the group?”
“Oh, edibles,” said Danny wistfully. “Damn the league and their cannabi-phobic testing policies.” He shook his head ruefully and then looked at James. “Angel, when I retire I am getting lightly stonkered for a month straight. I miss mull.”
James chuckled and patted Danny on the head. “I know, baby, I know.”
Nick laughed, too. “No, sorry, I just spaced out for a little.”
“It did get late,” said Regan, yawning and looking at the clock. “And the next two nights are going to be a right shitshow, so I might head to bed.”
“I’ll join you,” said Tex with a wink, getting up and exchanging hugs with everyone (including Charlie, to Nick’s delight) and chasing Regan up the stairs, both of them laughing and calling out good nights to everyone on their way up.
“Ah, to be young and in love and getting laid,” said Amy with a sigh, getting up too. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” She pointed at Charlie. “Run tomorrow, first thing?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” said Charlie, Nick smiling at him from his side of the couch.
“You’re a brave man,” he muttered to Charlie.
“No,” stage-whispered Charlie back. “I’m a cowardly man who is too afraid of what she might do to me if I don’t agree.”
“God I love you, Charlie,” said Amy, nodding with approval.
Danny and James got up too at Amy’s prodding and headed to their room after hugging everyone along with Amy, leaving Nick and Charlie for a moment.
“So,” started Nick. “Did you-”
“D’you think they-”
“Oh, sorry, you go-”
“No, sorry, you-”
“Sor-”
“Toll!”
“You did it too!”
“…Well, we’re watching a rugby match anyway tomorrow, so we can cancel this toll,” said Nick, laughing lightly. “But, uh - did you…do you like them?”
“They’re really great,” said Charlie authentically. “I really do like them. Everyone is just…nice, you know? And it’s like - kind of weird, I guess, to see two guys like Danny and James just so comfortable with being together in front of other people. Which makes me feel so small-minded to say - like what, just because they’re too stereotypically rugby-looking lads, it’s weird to see them being gay?” He shook his head, trying to get his words together. “It’s just…nice, I guess. That you all are so comfortable with them, and they’re so comfortable with you.” He paused and sighed, dropping his eyes from Nick’s face. “And each other.”
“Yeah,” said Nick, wanting to say something else to reassure Charlie that he would find someone who was open with their feelings about Charlie; someone who appreciated what they had when they had Charlie. But he couldn’t find the right words.
“Anyway,” said Charlie with another little breath and a straightening of his shoulders. “Tomorrow should be a lighter day of work. I might be able to finish up a little early.”
Nick brightened. “That’s great! I have to go to town again tomorrow to drop off all of the stuff for the markets, reckon you’d like to join?”
Charlie gave a small, shy smile back. “I mean…only if timing worked out for you.”
Nick gave a cheeky grin. “I got nothing but time. Think you’d be done round…what, like three?”
“That should work,” said Charlie, looking happy.
“Then I’ll see you at three,” said Nick. He automatically stepped forward to hug Charlie like he had everyone else goodnight, then stepped back, catching himself, probably looking like he was doing some weird two-step dance. He needed to remember that as much as he thought of Charlie as a friend (and Charlie was a friend), he didn’t want to come on too strong. The Badgers group was one thing - but Nick didn’t know if that’s what Charlie was like. He also needed to remember that he kind of was like Charlie’s landlord, even though he knew Charlie had been joking earlier. He was ultimately the (temporary) owner of the place where Charlie was living for a month. Nick didn’t want Charlie to feel like he had to hang out with Nick and that lot all weekend; he was sure Charlie wanted some time for himself, too. He wanted Charlie to feel welcome but not obligated, and that probably went for physical contact, too. Nick couldn’t just…assume. So instead Nick just swung his arm forward and gave Charlie a friendly, laddish pat on the upper arm.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” he said, looking at him quickly.
Charlie looked back at Nick, giving him a quick, small smile. “Goodnight, Nick.”
-
Breakfast was loud and late and fun. Charlie had dashed in and out after his run with Amy (apologising to the group that he wanted to get done with work early so he’d be able to join for their planned happy hour, to raucous approval), and the rest of the group lingered even while Nick did the chores and returned to find a game of mimosa flip-cup on the table (with a plastic tablecloth thoughtfully laid over the wooden surface, likely the work of Regan or James).
Nick played a few rounds before stopping so he’d be ready to drive into town that afternoon, eventually working out and showering himself, then laughing when he came through the parlour to see most of the group draped dramatically over the couches as they napped.
Charlie came down right around three, grinning at Nick and speaking in a low voice. “I see everyone got started early?”
Nick snorted. “It’s going to be a hedonistic next couple of days, Charlie.”
“They look like a Renaissance painting called Rugby in Repose.”
Nick laughed, trying to quiet himself and not wake everyone up. God, Charlie was funny. “You ready to go?”
They headed into the old truck (Nick had already loaded it, wanting to avoid Charlie having to do any work after his workday) and set off, chatting and listening to music that Charlie put on. Today Charlie said they were time-travelling, putting on a playlist of songs from 2016 that Nick ended up loving nearly every one of, nodding his head along to one about Dover Beach that just felt perfect as they drove. Nick tried to catch a few of the lyrics, which wasn’t always easy to do when listening to a song for the first time.
‘Cause he’s colouring my insides ocean blue
And everywhere I look, I look at you
Nick loved having the team there almost more than he could say, but it was also really nice to have time hanging out with Charlie again, just the two of them. They headed into town, and this time Charlie said he was going to walk around while Nick did his deliveries and maybe get something for Elle and Tao. Nick picked him back up about an hour later, Charlie swirling an iced coffee and showing Nick the citrus-infused olive oil he’d picked out.
“The olive oil looks amazing, but an iced coffee?” Nick shivered and zipped up his coat to his chin, making Charlie laugh. “It’s freezing!”
“I’m gay.”
Nick laughed. “Is that, like, a mandate?”
“It is,” assured Charlie. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”
“You drink hot coffee at Lavender Fields,” said Nick, pointing accusatorily.
“I’m nothing but polite in the face of your inn-based homophobia, Nicholas,” said Charlie sanctimoniously, making Nick laugh.
Nick drove them home a different way again this time, on a road that was edged by a stream, huge trees along the bank. He tried to describe how different it looked in the spring with everything in bloom. “You should see it in April and May,” he told Charlie. “It’s just so lush and green, you’ll love it.”
Charlie glanced over towards the trees, then looked away again. “I - yeah,” he said, lapsing into silence for a moment. Nick drove on, puzzled by the change in tone before Charlie spoke again. “So, I did some chatting at the office when I was there this week,” he said. “One of my colleagues, Anita - she thinks that there would be a great market for a ‘Taste of Bed and Breakfast at Home’ type of cookbook. I know you had just mentioned putting the recipes for your mum together in a cookbook for her, but would you - do you think she’d want to sell them, too?”
Nick glanced over at Charlie in delight before returning his eyes to the road. “Seriously?”
Charlie cocked his head and looked at Nick with a smile. “Yes?”
“Oh my god, that would be unreal,” enthused Nick. “She’d die! I’d die!”
“I don’t want that,” said Charlie with a laugh.
“You’re…that’s incredible, Charlie,” said Nick. “Thank you so much for, like - asking around about that. You truly didn’t have to do that; I thought it would just be you showing me how to copy-paste into some template.”
“Well, she deserves more than that, it sounds like,” said Charlie with a soft grin. “I’ve been benefiting from her cooking; I should know.”
“Her cooking,” snorted Nick.
Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Sorry, her recipes, Nick Nelson’s cooking.”
Nick grinned. He wasn’t sure that Charlie had said his full name before like that, and he liked the sound of it coming out of Charlie’s mouth. “Thank you.” They chatted a little bit about logistics, Charlie asking if he could access Sarah‘s recipes to get started and Nick eagerly agreeing. They got home and walked into the house, James shaking more drinks in the kitchen.
“Charlie,” he called, tossing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “What’s your poison?”
“Oh, what’ve you got?” asked Charlie.
“Anything you want, Chuckie,” said Amy, squeezing his shoulders from behind and making him jump and laugh. “James here is basically Tom Cruise in Cocktail, just minus the Scientology and weirdness.”
“And he’s great with a hard cock…tail,” added Danny, popping his head in from the kitchen.
Tex shook his head. “Too obvious,” he scolded Danny. “You’re better than that.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick. “That was a real cock-fail, Danny.”
Charlie let out a smothered laugh and Nick whirled, pointing at him with delight. “You laughed!”
“I didn’t!” insisted Charlie, trying to school his face.
“Jury of my peers?” Nick implored the room.
“Sorry, Charlie, that’s a laugh,” ruled Tex, nodding firmly.
“I have to count this as a laugh for Nick,” agreed Regan.
“Ace! A win for Daddies everywhere!” cheered Danny from the kitchen, making them all laugh.
“Fine,” said Charlie, grinning back at Nick, who returned the expression. “You got me.”
“Yes, I did,” said Nick smugly, Charlie’s ears turning slightly pink.
There wasn’t much time before Seamus’s match (Sharks versus Irish), but fortunately Nick had defrosted a huge portion of frozen bolognese and had that simmering on the stove since noon, and now just had to make the pasta and veg. He did those easy tasks while everyone hung out in the kitchen and dining room, Nick glowing inside. He loved this feeling: The feeling of making something for the people he cared about while everyone was in arm’s reach. Everyone dished out bowls of spag bol and salad before heading upstairs to Nick’s living room, which was less spacious but a little more casual and relaxed.
Amy, Regan, and Charlie were on one couch, with Tex against Regan’s legs. Danny and James were on the other, with Nick banished to one of the chairs due to his “match-viewing exuberance.”
“Have you had the misfortune of watching a match with this hooligan?” Tex asked Charlie, nodding toward Nick who squawked in protest.
Charlie nodded gravely. “The first week I stayed here,” he said solemnly. “You’re going to let that guy be your coach next year?”
“Charlie Spring, you fucking legend,” laughed Danny. “You’ve known this lad for what, 6 minutes and you already have his number?”
Charlie blushed and Nick felt himself do the same. “I’m not that bad.”
“Nick is legitimately one of the nicest people I know,” said James, turning to Charlie. “Until he’s on the sideline of a match and is trying to play in it from afar.”
Danny laughed. “Do you lot remember when he pulled his calf a few years back and the camera kept picking him up? Remember the memes?”
“Oh hell to the yes,” laughed Tex, opening his phone over Nick’s protests and showing Charlie a series of memes pictures of Nick, including one where he was labelled as, “When you see the human version of Sam the Eagle,” his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance like a shelf on his forehead. Charlie laughed and Tex kept showing them until thankfully, the match coverage began. Nick used that as an excuse to ban all phones ‘in respect of Seamus and the great teams of our nation’.
The match was a tight one, both teams near the top of the table this year. Nick still hated that Seamus had been traded, but it was good to see him on a team that would have a decent run at the Champions Cup that year. The match got scrappy as the score stayed close, with a handful of yellow cards popping up in the second half, including one earned for a hit on Seamus that made everyone yell loudly, startling Charlie, Nick spilling his drink as he gestured angrily.
“Why’s that not allowed?” Charlie asked, looking at Nick. “What made that hit different?”
“It was too high,” said Danny grimly. “That’s a cheap coathanger move, see the way he collared Shea? First of all, you can’t tackle above the line of the shoulders.”
“Plus you can’t be a fucking douchebag,” said Amy, glaring at the TV and the player who did the tackle receiving a yellow card, Seamus slowly getting up.
“Yes, that’s in the rulebook as well,” confirmed Danny. “Cunt-ery is not permissible on the field of play.”
Charlie let out a surprised laugh and Nick looked over. “You’ll get used to his language eventually.”
They watched Seamus’s team, the Sale Sharks, eke out a narrow victory over the London Irish, and Tex checked the time. “It’s only just past eight,” he said. “Hour after the match, then about an hour drive, yeah?”
“Just about,” confirmed Nick.
“Excellent, let’s get derro so he feels welcome and peer pressured to drink heavily to catch up with us,” said Danny enthusiastically.
Charlie laughed. “This sounds like the start of an anti-drinking assembly in secondary.”
“Perfect,” beamed Danny. “Those always ended amazingly for the main characters, right?”
Despite that, they ended up staying in the living room talking and messing about for another hour until Seamus messaged to say he was on his way, Charlie receiving a well-intentioned and likely unwanted rugby rules practical lesson, the lads delighted to hear that he was playing in the scrimmage the next day.
Danny pointed at Amy. “You said you ran with him today. Is he fast?” He pointed at Charlie. “Are you fast? You look fast as fuck, mate.”
Amy raised her finger back, wagging it at Danny. “I’ve done my scouting, you do your own.”
Danny turned to Charlie. “Race you down the stairs? For totally normal, non-competitive advantage-seeking reasons?”
Charlie laughed. “I can see the headline tomorrow: Rugby lad out for several months with broken leg after falling down antique wooden stairs and crashing into haunted portraits at the landing; reportedly deeply possessed.”
Danny shouted out a laugh, making Charlie jump and grin. “Charlie fucking Spring. We didn’t know we needed you in this group until we met you, you menace-laden cunt.”
Nick grinned again, loving how welcome the team was making him feel. They really hadn’t realised that they were missing Charlie Spring until they had him in their midst.
They finally all headed downstairs to drink and play card games until Seamus arrived, James preparing celebratory, ‘You won and it’s our bye week’ shots for when he got there. Time seemed to fly as they all enjoyed themselves, Nick no longer closely watching to make sure Charlie felt like he was included; that Charlie was comfortable. Charlie was smiling with his whole face, warming up Nick’s chest with joy. Charlie just looked so happy. Nick loved to see that.
The team got a buzz when Seamus was a few minutes away from the Find My Friends app, and the group piled on the porch, Nick playfully pulling a laughing Charlie along by the arm to join them. They all waved their arms madly as Seamus pulled up, blasting the horn and raising a startled round of mooing from the barn. Danny barreled towards Seamus first as he got out of the car, clearly unable to contain his delight for even a second longer. Seamus laughed and hugged him back, then each of them in turn, shaking Charlie warmly by the hand as well. They all hustled back inside and Regan passed out shots, all of them yelling, “Badgers!” as they did, Charlie and Regan and Seamus all joining in, too.
Nick shooed everyone into the parlour and stepped into the kitchen for a moment to pull out the charcuterie board from earlier. He and Shea had lived together for a few months when they were both first starting on the Badgers together, and he knew and loved Seamus’s propensity for meat-and-cheese-based snacking following a fixture. Nick was slicing a bit more cheese and freshening up the crackers when he saw Charlie slide into the kitchen and turned to look at him, smiling.
“You right? That lot not giving you too hard of a time?” Nick asked.
Charlie smirked. “I feel like you’re sometimes the one who gets a hard time,” he said with a playful grin.
Nick chuckled wryly. “You’ve clocked it in a day, Charlie. Though I think sometimes Shea gets it even worse than I do; they love to give him shit even more than me.” He turned fully to face Charlie, leaning his hip against the counter. “So - what do you think?”
Charlie made a tiny movement. “What…do you mean?”
“About them,” Nick smiled.
“Oh!” said Charlie, nodding minutely, then brightening. “They’re…fantastic, Nick.”
Nick beamed. “Aren’t they? Do you actually like them?”
“I truly do,” said Charlie. “Everyone is just so…I don’t know, they seem to want to make everyone feel included, you know?”
“Exactly,” said Nick. “That’s why it was such a great time. It was just…I felt like truly a part of it all, you know? Like I had…my people, I guess.” He looked away for a moment, chewing his lip in anxiety. Charlie was dealing with his own shit, he didn’t need to deal with Nick’s whinging. “But, yeah,” he said, shaking it off. “I’m so glad they’re here. And that you’re meeting them. Everyone thinks you’re amazing.”
Charlie blushed. “That’s-”
There was a loud electric buzzing, skipping sound from the parlour, making Charlie and Nick exchange looks.
“What the fuck…”
“I have no idea…”
They both went through the dining room to the parlour, the buzzing shifting into a thumping bass. In the parlour, Danny had pulled out a Bluetooth speaker, the lights turned all the way down. Nick vaguely recognised the song - Dancing on my Own, he thought it was called, or at least that was the chorus as he remembered it. He and Charlie laughed at Amy, Tex, Regan, and Danny dancing wildly to the song, Regan grabbing Seamus and Tex seizing James to pull them onto the carpet slash dance floor.
“Oi! Nelson! Springtime!”
The song slowed down a little to a bridge as Charlie and Nick watched, Danny dancing up in front of them, his shoulders shimmying as he mouthed the words to the slower part, dropping to his knees in beseeching invitation.
So far away
But still so near
The lights go on, the music dies
But you don’t see me standing here
I just came to say goodbye
I’m in the corner
Watching you kiss her, oh
As the bass came back in, Danny pounded his fist on the carpet in time with this music, leaping back up and dragging them to join everyone. Nick looked at Charlie who rolled his eyes with a grin and then jumped up and down for a moment, joining the group until he went into a round of air-drums, making everyone laugh and whoop. Nick hung back for a second longer, taking it in - the group of people he’d known for ages and the person he’d just met, limbs and bodies moving happily, the lights down low. Amy’s eyes were closed as she moved around, and Danny now had his arms wrapped around James’s neck. Seamus was bouncing in time to the music with Regan, and Tex was waving his arms and doing some two-step dance. Nick had one of those flashes, the ones where he knew this would be a moment he’d remember forever. Nick finally joined in, moving his shoulders and jumping around with the rest of them, Charlie grinning beside him. It was one of those moments where Nick felt like he had everything he ever wanted, and he threw his head back and laughed aloud, living in the moment where he felt on top of the world.
Notes:
(Raspberry) Dutch Baby Recipe
Notes: This is an easy one to substitute in non-dairy milk and/or a gluten-free flour mix if you have either of those dietary restrictions. You can also swap the butter for coconut oil if you are dairy-free.
Ingredients:
2 eggs, room temperature
½ c milk, room temperature
¼ tsp cinnamon
Pinch salt
½ c flour
3 Tbsp butter
½ c fresh raspberriesPreheat the oven to 425 degrees F and wait until it is fully at temperature. While it preheats, place a cast-iron skillet in the heating oven.
While the oven is preheating (with the pan in the oven), whisk together the eggs, milk, cinnamon, and salt until it is frothy. Add in the flour, whisking hard until it’s fully combined. Use an oven mitt to remove the hot skillet and add in the butter. Place the skillet back in the oven and wait until the butter melts. As soon as the butter is melted, remove the skillet again. Pour in the batter, then put the skillet back in the oven. Bake for 15 minutes or until the edges are brown and the dish is puffed in the centre.
Remove from the oven, then cut into wedges. Top with the raspberries, and then consider adding powdered sugar, syrup, and/or whipping cream.
Chapter 9: Embraced
Summary:
Last time: Charlie meets the Badgers, and they are predictably enamored with him.
This time: Charlie joins in on the rugby scrimmage, and the weekend wraps up.
Notes:
wavey, nelliesayzbork. You two make dumb things work better, make inboxes unhinged, make work days brighter, and make me so constantly happy you are in my life. Your comments, suggestions, ideas, and chaos goblinry are magic, as are your faces. Love me forever, please.
Remember when I said chapters were going to be 4K? Yeah, me too.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning was a little slow, as everyone was feeling a little hung over. Nick had predicted this (experience was nothing but a great teacher), and he had proactively reached out to the cleaners, the ones who lived in the farm up the road. They made their own bread and a cured bunch of types of meat. Nick ordered some breakfast sandwiches a few days earlier, which they had provided for Lavender Fields before. He knew he wouldn’t be arsed to cook as much that weekend with everyone in town. It had rained overnight and the fields were soaked as Nick made his way down to the barn to see the girls, the paddock a quagmire of mud.
The cleaners came over to help turn over the rooms and do some dishes so that Nick could take a bit of a breather, and the smell of the sandwiches started luring everyone out of their rooms. Nick drifted around as everyone got their coffee or tea and slowly oozed around the house, trying to get their lives together.
Nick and Charlie exchanged a quick, warm greeting before Charlie needed to go out to his car to grab an extra charger that he’d left in there. Nick grinned as he looked outside and saw Charlie talking to the cleaner’s daughter – a really cute kid named Jenny who was maybe six years old and loved making new friends. Charlie crouched down to listen to something that she was saying, cocking his head and then saying something back that made her giggle. Nick smiled at the sight; it made sense Charlie was so good with kids, what with having a younger brother like he did. She said something else to Charlie and Charlie pointed, the two of them heading off for a moment to look at something she was gesturing to in one of the trees. Nick watched for another moment until he heard Danny’s cheerful voice, singing as he came into the kitchen.
“Bird do it…bees do it,” sang Danny, dropping his head to the side and crooning to Nick. “Even educated fleas do it! Let’s do it…let’s fly into a plate glass window and diiiiiie.”
Nick burst out laughing; he had not been expecting that rewrite.
“You like that one, eh?” asked Danny, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re the weirdest person I know, Danny.”
“Aw, babe, you don’t need to butter me up,” said Danny with a saucy wink. “Are you having fun so far this weekend, mate?”
“Fuck yeah,” said Nick, grinning broadly. “Having you lot here is amazing.”
“You’re right; we are incredible company,” agreed Danny, stretching. “Then you’ve got Charlie here too for a while, right? He’s a good one, too.”
“He - yeah,” said Nick, feeling a little caught off guard. “I’m glad you like him.”
Danny smiled. “We-”
The front door swung open and Charlie came in, red-cheeked from the cold morning. “Are we seriously going to still play rugby with all the mud?” he asked, his eyes wide and pleading, making Nick and Danny laugh.
“Charlie, in my day, we had to play fixtures in the pouring rain,” said Nick in a wheezing, scolding tone, pretending to hunch over and lean on Danny for the support that his old, decrepit back needed. “And the sun was in our eyes in both halves, even when we switched sides.”
“I thought you said it was pouring rain,” said Charlie flatly.
“And we had to make our own rugby balls out of an old, blown-up condom and chicken skin,” added Danny, nodding soberly.
Charlie laughed. “Fine. I get it. We’re playing.”
“Fuck yes we are,” said Amy, coming into the dining room and nudging Charlie with her hip. “And come on, what else is there to do around here?”
Charlie sniffed. “I’ll have you know I was having a lovely conversation with that little girl, the daughter of the cleaners. She agrees that there are not enough children’s books about little girls who go on adventures, which I plan to rectify at the publishing house as soon as possible.”
Danny looked at Charlie seriously, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Charlie…” he said slowly. “There was a little girl who used to live here.”
Amy nodded, putting her hand gently on Charlie’s. “But Charlie…she died twenty years ago,” she continued gravely.
Charlie’s face paled and his voice was a squeak. “What?”
Nick huffed. “You two are terrible.”
Danny and Amy burst out laughing, and Charlie visibly sagged in relief. “Holy fuck! Oh my god, Danny and Amy, little girl ghosts are nothing to joke about, especially in this haunted-ass house.”
Nick had to giggle too, and Charlie finally joined in with them.
“Oh, fuck…your face, Springtime, it’s amazing,” said Danny, laughing.
“Easy talking about faces,” said Amy. “Your face is like someone shaved a dog’s butt and made it walk backwards.”
“Ooh, the rinsing begins!” enthused Danny. He turned to Charlie. “Get ready. Amy is amazingly awful at trash talk; she goes way too intense and personal. It’s a delight.”
“It’s true,” admitted Amy. “It’s one of my toxic traits.”
Charlie laughed. “Well, I’ll go get ready for this fresh hell.” He sighed dramatically. “I really am going to die.”
“Of fun!” Nick chirped, making Charlie turn and grin at him before heading upstairs.
Thirty minutes later, everyone was standing outside, looking a combination of eager, cold, and dubious - the cold and dubious ones largely the most hungover members of the group, or the ones who were named Charlie Spring.
Nick and Seamus had been the traditional captains for years and there was no reason to buck tradition this weekend. “Right, same rules as always,” Nick said, laying it out for Charlie’s sake. “We’ll play three on three. There has to be an equal number of current or past professional players on the field at any one time to keep it even.”
“Whatever,” said Regan. “I can run miles around you so-called professionals. Watch how many conversations-”
“Conversions,” interjected Tex.
“Right, conversions that I get,” finished Regan, she and Amy exchanging a fist-bump.
Nick laughed. “Non-professional players chosen first. Total non-contact, no tackling. Everyone hear that?”
Charlie grinned at him. “Did you hear that, Nicholas?”
“What?” said Nick, grinning back at him before remembering everyone else was around and had no clue what they were talking about. He felt his neck flush a little and ran his fingers through his hair to give himself something to do before continuing. “Right, no tackling. Remember, if you get hurt Amy will kill you.”
“And it will be painful," added Amy, glaring at all the lads, who nodded obediently.
“Since Nick is hosting, he gets to pick first,” said Seamus, gesturing towards the group.
“Perfect,” said Nick. “Charlie, come join the side of good.” He beamed at Charlie as Charlie trotted over, blushing slightly over the whistles and cheers from the rest of the group.
“Fuck, I knew he was fast,” muttered Danny. “I should have focused on scouting last night, but I was distracted by the dance party. Damn you, Robyn, and your infectious beats!”
Seamus laughed. “Amy,” he called, Amy smirking and giving him a high-five as she went to his side.
Amy looked at Nick and Charlie, pointing to her own eyes with two fingers and then back at the pair of them. “We will end you. I will make it my duty to destroy every hint of joy from your lives.”
Nick turned to Charlie, laughing at the expression on his face. “Aaaaaand, there’s the trash talk.”
“Good god,” Charlie whispered back, aghast.
“Nelson, you’re up again.”
“Regan,” said Nick, smiling at her as she came over. “Seamus?”
“Danny,” said Seamus, Danny whooping and bounding over.
“Don’t you dare steal my man,” Danny warned Nick on his way to join Seamus’s team. “Don’t do it. Just because he has perfect arms and a perfect ass and is the fastest thing on two legs - not in bed though, darling, you have stamina for days - don’t you dare pick-”
“James,” said Nick, and Danny howled and dropped to the ground in mock-protest. James laughed and joined their team, exchanging a fist-bump with Charlie.
“And then I take Tex,” said Seamus, grinning.
“Save the Tex for last, I get it,” said Tex. “Though I am hurt and offended and hurt.”
They had their ‘team meetings’ to set up their strategy and then the match kicked off, Nick setting an alarm on his phone for the two twenty-minute halves. Nick knew that Charlie and James would make an incredible pair on the field, and he was fucking right. Charlie wasn’t necessarily the best with catching or throwing the rugby ball, but once it was in his hands, he was on fire. James would get close and gently pitch him the ball, and then Charlie would take off like a shot, drawing out a delighted exclamation from Danny as Charlie flew by.
“Springtime has wings! Wingtime!”
Nick laughed throughout the first half, just having fun. He missed this. He missed playing around with everyone, missed the silly moments that occasionally had happened during training and happened a lot more here, like when Danny lunged towards James to tug down his rugby shorts as James went for a try, making him laugh and blush as he staggered towards the marked try line in his boxers, his shorts on his thighs, in a stutter-step. Even with the fun, Nick had that tiny competitive flame still in him, and in the second half, he was very aware of the score: tied up. There was perhaps a minute or so left, and Nick’s team (which they called Team Hero Champions of the World and Amy called Team Voldemort) had the ball.
Nick was on with Charlie and Regan for what would probably be the last phase. Regan did an admirable job of passing the ball up and down the field, and Nick tossed it to her, then she popped it over to Charlie. Charlie looked a little surprised to see the ball in his hands and took off at a dead sprint, Nick running next to him.
God, Charlie was fast. It was amazing to watch him run. He might not be skilled with the actual rugby ball, but it was a thing of beauty to watch him move. Charlie’s lean, muscular legs powered him as he moved forward, looking fluid and comfortable. His hair moved hypnotically as he ran, the curls bouncing and glimmering in the sunlight, highlighting endless shades of brown.
Nick saw Amy out of the corner of his eye, dashing toward Charlie, and he moved to intercept her, physically picking her up and calling out his best Forrest Gump impression, crying, “Run, Charlie, run!” Charlie looked back and grinning and sped off up the field, Amy laughing and pounding on Nick’s shoulder to put her down. James ran alongside the edge of the field to cheer Charlie on, whooping and encouraging. Charlie made it across the try line before Seamus or Tex could tag him, and Nick and Regan rushed toward him to celebrate, James coming in from the side as well.
Nick got to Charlie first and seized him around the chest, lifting him slightly off the ground. “We won, Charlie!”
Charlie laughed and blushed and Regan slammed into them as well, followed by James. Team Hero Champions of the World cheered at their win, ignoring the haters who accused Nick of cheating. Nick grinned and set Charlie down, stepping back as the other team joined them, Danny and Amy insisting, “Jail for Nick for cheating! Jail for one thousand years!”
“You want to talk cheating?” asked James, wagging a playful finger at Danny. “This just makes up for the rugby shorts move,” he scolded, Danny laughing and grabbing his finger to pull him in for a conciliatory kiss.
Nick grinned at the two of them, and then looked back at Charlie, who was beaming. “Did you have fun?”
“I really did,” said Charlie, laughing. “I can’t believe I scored a…point?”
Nick laughed. “Five, actually.”
“Even better,” said Charlie with that little smirk of his, the one that made his face light up. “I’m a mess, though,” he said, gesturing down to his filthy clothes. Nick knew he was no better; all of them were coated in mud and grass, kicked up from the soft ground.
“You are,” smiled Nick. “You’ve got some…” He reached out his hand and used his thumb to brush away a clot of mud on Charlie’s cheek. “There you go.”
Charlie looked up at him, his eyes wide. “Oh, um…thanks,” he murmured, looking down, and suddenly Nick felt very aware of where his hands were and how awkward he probably looked.
“Cooldown drinks in the barn?” asked Seamus, setting a hand on each of their shoulders with a grin as he approached, seemingly unaware of Nick’s bumbling.
“Yeah, definitely,” agreed Nick in relief, glad to have an escape from his sudden uneasiness. They all made their way to the barn, laughing and chattering as they went. Everyone was gushing to Charlie about how brilliantly he played for his first time and how fast he was. Despite Nick’s weird momentary embarrassment, he felt a surge of pride for Charlie and how the Badgers crew had embraced him so fully. They all went down to the paddock to pat the cows and drink a few beers that Seamus had proactively stashed, this being their post-match tradition. After fifteen minutes or so, Regan mentioned that she was cold, and Amy and Charlie said they’d go back to the house with her. The lads decided to stay for a bit, Nick in particular feeling like he was still radiating heat into the air.
Left to their own devices, the talk inevitably turned into a deep, intense rugby discussion that made Nick feel like he was right back on the team. Nick pulled out his phone to look at the time and then remembered what he had reminded himself to do just this morning.
“Oi, lads, mind if we make a quick fan video?” There was a predictable round of light groaning, no one truly annoyed by it, but just giving Nick a hard time. “It’s for Charlie’s brother,” he added.
“Oh, well, definitely then,” said Danny. “Is he a footy fan in general or a Badgers fan specifically?”
“Charlie says he loves the Badgers,” said Nick.
“Ah, right schmick like his brother, then,” said Danny, nodding approvingly. Nick glanced at James, who shrugged and raised his eyebrows in a who knows? back at Nick, clearly not finding an entry in his mental Danny-to-English thesaurus.
“How old is he?” asked Seamus. “Charlie’s what…round 30? Maybe a little younger?”
“Yeah, I think so,” said Nick, realising that he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d have to ask Charlie when his birthday was. “He said his brother is in Year 11, so like 15 or 16 I’d think? Charlie said he wants to be a vet; he was asking Charlie all about Nellie and Henry so I took a bunch of photos to pass along to him. I told Charlie that he should bring his brother - Oliver is his name - but I guess their mum wasn’t keen on the idea.” Nick chattered on, giving Nellie a quick pat over the fence. “Anyway, Charlie said he’s going through some rough patches right now and that he loved the Badgers, so I figured we…” he trailed off, blushing as he realised how much he’d been talking. You don’t need to do a whole soliloquy, Nelson, they’ve done loads of fan videos before. Just shut up.
James gave Nick a warm smile that put him back at ease. “Charlie’s a great guy; I’m sure his brother is, too. Come on then, lads." Nick grinned as he flipped on the front-facing camera on his phone, the rest of the lads taking the lead and recording a silly video that Nick hoped Charlie’s brother would love. Hopefully Charlie would like it, too. Nick remembered what he overheard when Amy and Charlie were chatting after their run - Charlie had said that Ben said something about Olly. Oliver. Charlie’s brother was a kid. Who talked shit about their fiancés kid brother?
Nick shook himself out of his irritation at B. Hope and his pervasive douchetwattery and drifted back into the conversation. He threw down a few bales of hay for the girls before they all finally headed back up to the house, everyone a little chilled. The lads scattered to go have showers and warm up, and Nick took out his phone to re-watch the video for Oliver, grinning as he reviewed it. He couldn’t wait to show it to Charlie.
Nick dropped his stuff off in his bedroom and washed his hands, then headed to the main house to find Charlie and show him the video. He found Amy hovering in the kitchen, peering out the window anxiously, which was atypical for her.
“Ames?”
Amy turned, a concerned expression on her face. “He got a call from that dick, Ben.”
Nick felt a knot squeeze in his stomach. “Fuck. Like…when?”
“Just a few minutes ago,” she said, looking back out the window. Nick could just see the fringe of Charlie’s hair from around the corner of the house, Charlie slumping against the wall. “It - god, I know that feeling,” Amy murmured. “Like, a total change from the guy we’ve hung out with this weekend. As soon as that prick called, Charlie just, like - shrank. I fucking hate how that can happen - you can be having the time of your life and then some asshole who thinks they have a say in your life calls and ruins it.” She sighed. “And then you get mad at yourself for letting it happen, but it’s not…it’s not always that easy.”
Nick felt the knot in his stomach tighten with anger and concern. He thought of the Charlie who had arrived at Lavender Fields five or so weeks ago, the one who was sad and shrinking and trying not to bother anyone. As if Charlie could bother anyone with his presence. “What did he - did he seem…” Nick wasn’t even sure what he was trying to ask. He wanted some assurance - any assurance - that Charlie was okay.
“He definitely looked rattled to hear from him,” said Amy sadly, looking out the window. “Poor guy. And, like, I know in theory he could have ignored it. But I remember what it was like after all the shit with Caden. There’s still this fucking stupid pull from all the history or patterns from the years you were with them.” She sighed and turned her gaze away from the window, looking at Nick. “I’m sure he could use a friend after that call.”
“Yeah,” said Nick, his throat dry and mind still preoccupied with worries about Charlie. “I’m - do you think you…” he trailed off and took a breath, grounding himself. “I’ll hang out down here and wait for him to be done,” he said, finally.
“I think that’s a great idea,” said Amy warmly. “He said what a great support you were when he was here a few weeks ago - and then over the last few weeks, as well.”
“Oh I…” Nick was a little flummoxed. He and Charlie hadn’t talked about B. Hope at all when they had messaged and called when Charlie had been back in London. “I feel like…I didn’t even really talk to him about - about his ex.”
“You were there for him,” said Amy simply. “That’s enough.” She gave him a soft pat on the cheek and he smiled slightly at the familiar gesture. “See you in a bit?”
“Yeah, see you in a bit,” said Nick as she left. He turned to peer out of the kitchen door window again, only to see Charlie coming back in towards the door, his face looking miserable, then something else when he caught Nick’s eye through the glass. Nick barely had time to jump out of the way of the door and try to temper the burn on his face, clearly caught. Charlie’s breath looked like it was shallow, and his shoulders were slightly hunched, like he was drawing in on himself against a cruel, cold world. Which it sounds like it might have been, at least with his ex.
“Charlie, are you…” Nick found himself without words for what felt like the fiftieth time in three minutes. “Do you - do you want to talk?”
Charlie opened his mouth, then took in a hard inhale. “I…” he shook his head and looked away, down towards Nick’s feet. Nick’s feet felt too large; his hand felt too large. He didn’t know what to do with his body. “I don’t…I don’t think I do, not just right now.”
“Okay,” said Nick, eyebrows drawn together. He knew Charlie needed something, and he wanted to give him anything he could in that moment. So he took a page from Sarah Nelson’s book. Sarah Nelson gave hugs that felt like they transcended words; embraces of kindness and comfort that made the recipient feel like, for a moment, all was right and they were safe and loved and warm. Nick had been told that he gave fairly good hugs himself, and after just a moment more of hesitation, he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Charlie. He felt Charlie tense and considered letting him go, but kept his arms securely around Charlie, and thank god he did. Charlie relaxed into the embrace, Nick actually feeling the tension drain out of him as Charlie tentatively reached his arms and hugged Nick back, his face pressed against Nick’s jumper.
“It’s all right,” said Nick quietly, and he heard Charlie let out a strangled, muffled sound as he started to cry against Nick’s chest. “It’s all right,” he whispered again, just letting his friend cry. He continued to hold Charlie as the tears flowed out of him, just murmuring the same simple words a few more times. Nick heard some movement in the dining room and turned his eyes to see James leaning his head in the doorframe, looking concerned. James gave Nick a worried-looking thumbs up with a questioning tilt of his head, and Nick grimly returned the gesture, his arms still around Charlie, trying to silently tell James that he had this and for James to go. James, bless his heart, clearly got the message and backed away quietly, giving Nick one last look before he did.
Nick shifted his attention back to Charlie, whose breathing had settled but face was still in Nick’s chest. He took a last, shuddering breath and then Nick released him as he stepped back a good couple feet, looking down and drying at his eyes with the cuffs of his jumper.
“I’m so-”
“Charlie, I will give you a thousand tolls if you apologise right now.”
Charlie gave a half-hearted sniff and a little laugh. “A thousand rugby matches? You wouldn’t.” His voice was still a little quavery, but Nick appreciated the attempt at humour.
“I’m a man of my word. You’ll be so deep in rucks and scrums and phases you won’t even know what to do.”
“I don’t even know what most of those are still,” said Charlie with another sniffling laugh.
Nick chuckled lightly, even though his whole heart was still aching for Charlie. “Are you…”
“I’m fine,” said Charlie, though Nick didn’t believe it at all. “Just like… embarrassed.” He shook his head vehemently as Nick opened his mouth to protest. “I know - I know. I know what you’re going to say. But, like - I’ve been having the best weekend, Nick. The best week. And your friends have been so great and welcoming and fun, and now here I am, whinging and fucking crying in your kitchen like a…”
“Like someone who’s gone through something hard?” asked Nick, emphatically. “Like someone who’s had to figure out a ton of shit in just a few weeks? Like someone who is being so, so strong right now?” Charlie started and looked up at Nick fully in the face for the first time since he came inside. “You heard me,” said Nick, the corner of his mouth turning up at one side despite himself. Because Charlie was strong, and it truly did make Nick happy, even in uglier moments like this. “You’re…you’re incredible, Charlie. You’ve gone through all this shit and still - what? Still worked your job, figured out how to do remote, found a flat, stood up for yourself, came here, met new people, charmed their socks off,” Nick grinned at the flash of embarrassed pride on Charlie's face. “You’re…astonishing, Charlie. I hope you can see that.”
Charlie opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I’m…” He looked directly into Nick’s eyes again and Nick felt a wave go through his stomach again, something like hot relief that Charlie was coming back from whatever hell B. Hope put him through on the phone. “Just…thank you.”
Nick shook his head with a small grin. “You should be a defender next time we play rugby - you’re amazing at deflection.” Charlie sniffed out a laugh, and Nick joined him, the two of them grinning for a moment. “You’re probably freezing still, aren’t you?” asked Nick.
“Yes, I definitely need a shower,” said Charlie. “I have to warm up a little.”
“Go do that,” Nick urged. “Come down whenever you want, later - if you want. I know everyone would love to hang out with you tonight. If you feel up for it, that is.”
“Thanks, Nick,” said Charlie with a smile that almost looked…sad? Maybe it was just Nick’s imagination. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“See you in a bit,” Nick echoed, watching Charlie leave the kitchen. He stood there for a moment, feeling rattled. From Charlie’s phone call with B. Hope, he mused. Charlie was rattled, so he was, too. He hated seeing Charlie like that. More so than anything, he hated that there was someone who made Charlie feel like that. Nick stayed in the kitchen longer than he intended, thinking back to the hug he gave Charlie. Was it too much? Nick never wanted to overwhelm Charlie or scare him or make him feel uncomfortable. But then again…hugging Charlie had just felt comfortable. It didn’t feel strange or forced or wooden. It felt like hugging his other friends, the people in his life he cared about. It felt…right.
Nick finally snapped out of his thoughts, feeling a weird sense of dread in his stomach, or something like it. No, not dread - just, like the same sensation. Some gnawing heaviness, pulling at him. What was that about? Worries about Charlie, maybe? He took a deep, grounding breath and cleaned up the kitchen marginally before setting off on his other chores; he was having food delivered tonight so that no one needed to cook for the team’s last night at Lavender Fields before heading off tomorrow.
After tending to a few other things around the farm, Nick was carrying an armload of fresh towels up the stairs when he did the thing where he dropped one towel and then he leaned down to get it and dropped another towel when he heard James’s voice coming out of his and Danny’s room, an equally amused and exasperated tone that Nick was well used to at this point.
“Why did you bring these, baby?”
“Because they’re fucking fantastic, my perfect seahorse.”
“We’re at a bed and breakfast with only our mates. Who brings glitter boots to a bed and breakfast with only their mates?”
Nick could hear the cheek in Danny’s voice. “The prepared.” James laughed. “Also, the man you can’t live without and love eternally brings glitter boots. That’s who brings boots like that. Wow, this is so embarrassing for you.”
Nick grinned to himself, and then heard the tell-tale sound of bed springs and assumed that Danny had pulled James onto the bed with him. This was not something he wanted to overhear. He hurriedly picked up the towels, trying to create some semblance of order to the laundry he was balancing when he heard Danny again.
“Angel, can I please ask Nick about it? Or even just, like, try to bring it up?”
James’s reply was firm and immediate. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Danny was using his cajoling voice, which everyone on the team had been subjected to at some point or another. Oh god, what the fuck did Danny want to ask him? Nick could only imagine what that Australian, inappropriate menace had in his brain.
“Baby, you know why not. That’s his-”
Nick knocked and there was a brief pause before James said to come in.
“Ask me what?” Nick popped his head in the open door to see James and Danny cuddled on the bed, Danny’s wild head of hair on James’s stomach.
“If you miss the Badgers,” said Danny promptly, and Nick had to laugh. Danny had no ability to censor himself whatsoever. Nick clocked the panicked look that had crossed James’s face when Danny spoke, though it immediately relaxed at Nick’s reaction. Clearly, James was reassured that Nick wasn’t upset at Danny’s prying question.
“Fuck, of course I do,” said Nick with a half-smile.
“Matches or team stuff?” asked Danny, rubbing his hand on the side of the bed suggestively to try to lure Nick into joining them. Nick laughed and sat down on the edge, hoping to god there were no fluids on the spot he picked.
“Both, I guess,” said Nick. “I miss the matches but that’s also, like - missing the routine, you know? I loved the season, where you knew what was happening every Saturday. And I miss the weird stuff, too, like everyone’s pre-fixture traditions, and Croftie’s speeches.” James and Danny both grinned at that. “I miss the mindset of being in matches,” said Nick, after thinking for a moment. “But honestly, it’s the team stuff, you know?” He looked down at his hands for a moment. “Like, all of the inside jokes we had? And all the pranks and that kind of stuff…I do miss that. I miss being around all of you wankers.”
There was a split-second pause where Nick was only able to minimally prepare himself before he was tackled by Danny’s bull-like body, smothering him in a hug, James following and piling on top of the two of them.
“You absolute beauty,” said Danny, his voice coming from somewhere near Nick’s sternum. “We miss you too.”
“Every day,” confirmed James, by his elbow.
Nick pushed them off, laughing. “Don’t break me, you know I’m an old man in this withering body.” He looked at James. “And…it’s okay. It’s hard to think about it sometimes, but I’ll always talk about all of that stuff. You lot can ask me anything.”
Danny’s eyes lit up. “Anything?”
Nick laughed. “Well, James can. You have to run it by him first.”
James smirked at Danny, who launched himself at James, landing a sloppy kiss mostly on his mouth. “I’ll just have to use my powers of persuasion.”
Nick took that as his cue to leave, laughing and scrambling out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. He headed up the stairs to lay some fresh towels on each of the beds, starting with Seamus’s room. He rolled his eyes affectionately when he walked in; Seamus had always made his bed with military-like precision even in the days when he and Nick lived together in their early 20s. It typically looked like his bed hadn’t even been touched, and this was no exception. Nick dropped the towels on his dresser and did the same with Amy’s room, whose bed looked like it had been struck by a Canadian tornado, which was also typical.
Charlie’s door was shut and Nick thought he must be napping. He didn’t want to disturb Charlie and figured he might need some space and solitude, so Nick laid the towels outside his door and moved onto Tex and Regan’s room. He could hear voices inside and tapped on the door and pushed it open to see Tex, Regan, Amy, and Seamus all in the room. Tex was stretching on the floor and Seamus was relaxing in one of the room armchairs, Amy and Regan sprawled across the bed.
“Hey you lot,” said Nick, grinning at everyone’s greeting. “Everyone resting up for later?”
“Fuck yes,” said Seamus. “I’m gonna need it to keep up with this crew of demons again.”
“You gotta stay fit if you want to party with the demons,” said Tex through a yawn on the floor. “We get a lot of exorcise, you know.” He laugh-yelped as he was assaulted by pillows from three angles - Amy, Regan, and Seamus all making their displeasure known while Nick laughed.
“God I missed this,” said Nick fondly.
“We miss you too,” said Texas, smiling back up at him. “Can’t wait until you’re back and we utterly despise you while you make us run sprints.”
Nick grinned again. “Special exceptions will be made for excellent pun-producers; those are the players I need to protect.”
“Blatant favouritism,” muttered Amy. “Shameful.”
Nick joined them for a bit before everyone settled down to rest up, Nick included. They all eventually drifted downstairs later that evening, lured by the smell of the Thai takeaway Nick had ordered.
It was just like old times, arms reaching across the table and grabbing at the containers, occasionally attempts at stabbing someone’s hand with chopsticks to keep them away from the last spring roll. It was loud and messy and fun, just the way Nick remembered. And this time, it had Charlie there too, raising a loud yell of welcome when he came downstairs about halfway through dinner. Nick had smiled at Charlie as Charlie’s ears turned pink, clearly pleased if a little embarrassed at the greeting. He sat next to Amy, who snuggled up next to him and gave him a little hug and nudge hello.
The night ended up being, as Amy always put it, an utter gong show. Danny wore his glittery sparkle boots, which Nick had to admit were fucking fire. Nick kept half-hoping for another dance party to break out (Charlie’s drumming moves had been amazing and he wanted to see them again), but still had a blast as they played games. Their particular group had been deeply into board and group games the last few years that Nick played, and he had bought Telestrations specifically to have on hand for this weekend. It was a telephone-cum-Pictionary game where each person received a word or phrase, drew it on an erasable pad, then flipped the page and handed it to the next person in the circle who had to guess what the word was, and then draw the word they guessed to pass to the next person.
Nick was crying with laughter along with everyone else as they played, with nearly every drawing turning into something deeply sexual. Someone had gotten the word “carbonation”, which Nick had turned into a drawing of a cup with a straw and squiggly lines coming out (to show the fizzing effect), which Danny had guessed was, “soda pubes”.
“Why the fuck would ‘soda pubes’ be the prompt on the card?” Amy demanded, tears coming out of her eyes.
“Nick bought the ‘After Dark’ version!” insisted Danny. “That was a reasonable conclusion!”
“Only your mind would create ‘soda pubes’,” said Seamus, laughing.
“It’s not my fault that Nelson apparently learned to draw from Nellie!”
“Oi!” Nick protested, beaming as he caught Charlie’s face, alight with joy. He was back; Nick loved to see Charlie back.
“Stick to drawing up plays, not illustrations,” Seamus told Nick, affectionately punching him on the shoulder.
“Holy fuck, was that a pun?!” asked Tex, delighted.
Seamus blanched. “No! It wasn’t! It was just a coincidence!”
“We’ve infected him!” Danny crowed, Nick and Tex whooping in delight. “We broke his brain!”
The rest of the night continued like that in a hazy, amazing blur. The gang eventually made their way to Nick’s upstairs living room, Tex putting something on Youtube called Monster Jam in the background, which was apparently trucks doing weird things like flips and…standing on their back wheels? Nick didn’t know. He didn’t know anything except that he was having the time of his life, laughing with his mates. Charlie’s face was open and bright as he sat next to Nick on the couch. It wasn’t until nearly two that the group realised just how late it was. Nick overheard Danny say something about “shame on Amy,” and turned to Charlie, grinning drunkenly.
“Shame on all of us, really,” Nick said. “Sorry you had to hang out with a bunch of degenerates like us this weekend.”
“It was such a chore,” said Charlie with a cheeky grin. “Honestly, you saved me from another weekend at Tao’s Film School of Existential Ennui, which…thank god.”
Nick snorted. “You’ll have to invite him and Elle up again one of these weekends. As long as we pretend the wifi is down so we can’t watch anything besides the VHS tapes that my mum still owns.”
“I’m going to have to see that collection,” said Charlie, his eyes wide and earnest.
“It’s…fantastic,” said Nick. “How do you think he’ll enjoy The Mighty Ducks …Two?”
“Oh my god, he will die,” said Charlie, then looked momentarily worried. “Maybe literally. But really? Like - it would be okay to invite them up?”
“Of course!” Nick replied. “Let’s look at the calendar tomorrow and see which weekend is light. But I’d love to see them again. I really liked them - your friends are great.”
Charlie looked around at the loud, obnoxious group of dummies around them. “Your friends are great, too.”
“They are,” Nick agreed. He glanced at the room, everyone starting to drift off and out, exchanging hugs like their group always did. “Well…goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick,” said Charlie, giving him another small smile. Nick hesitated, then realised that they were past his awkwardness. He opened his arms and Charlie looked surprised, then returned the gesture, the two of them falling into a hug, a much shorter one this time than before.
Nick pulled back, feeling warm and glowing with the booze. “See you in the morning?”
“In the morning,” Charlie agreed, a slight blush on his cheeks.
Nick said goodnight to everyone else and headed down to his room. It had been a whirlwind of a day, and despite how tired and intoxicated Nick was, it took a while to settle his brain down. So much had happened - the rugby match, Charlie’s phone call, the video for Oliver - fuck, the video for Oliver! Nick needed to send that to Charlie in the morning. Or maybe he should watch it with Charlie. He wanted to see Charlie’s face, watching it for the first time. His mind chewing on what had happened that day and what might happen tomorrow, Nick finally drifted off to sleep, the image of his side celebrating the rugby scrimmage the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.
-
Sunday morning was even rougher than the one before, which wasn’t a huge surprise. They’d gone hard last night, and Nick wasn’t feeling his best, either. He’d saved some pizza dough from Thursday night and took it out of the fridge from where he’d been cold-proving it, placing the dough on the counter to warm up for some breakfast pizzas.
Nick was blearily rubbing his face when he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and was pleased to see it was Charlie.
“Hi,” said Nick, smiling and turning to pour Charlie’s coffee, which he had already brewed.
“Hi,” replied Charlie, smiling in that soft way that he did as he took the coffee from Nick’s hands, accepting the oat milk that Nick passed him with a smile. “Did you sleep okay?”
“No,” Nick admitted with a sheepish grin. “I sleep like shit after drinking. You?”
“I got a solid 80 minutes,” replied Charlie with a yawn, making Nick laugh. “Ugh. I want this coffee so badly and I also do not want this coffee so badly. You’d think alcohol was, like, bad for you or something based on the way it makes you feel the next morning.”
Nick laughed, but that didn’t feel great in his stomach. No motion felt great right now. “I know. But, I do have a foolproof method to feeling better.”
“Curling up in a ball and dying slowly?” Charlie squeezed his eyes shut again a shaft of sunlight that had come in through the curtains.
“Carbs and cheese,” Nick corrected firmly.
Charlie nodded, his eyes still closed, mumbling about the homophobia of daylight. He finally opened them and set down his coffee, sighing like he was about to run a marathon. “Okay. What can I help with?”
“Nothing,” said Nick, taking out a few pans.
“Nick,” said Charlie in a warning voice, and Nick looked at him, eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Did you just try to teacher voice me, Charles Spring?”
Charlie gave him a lofty, challenging look. “Nicholas Nelson,” he said firmly, and a strange shiver went down Nick’s spine. “I am going to help. So give me. A goddamn. Job.”
“Geez, bossy,” muttered Nick, grinning the entire time, that same little thrill going down his back once more. He could see Charlie trying not to break the serious look on his face, even though his cheek muscles were jumping. “Fine. You can make the cheese sauce. Pull down that blue binder; my mum has stuff indexed in there; look in the back page to find which page it’s on.”
“God, this thing is massive,” said Charlie, going to get it. “How many binders of recipes like this does she have?”
“Like, three or four?” Nick guessed. “It’s a combination of recipes she’s made up or I have or ones we’ve cut out of like newspapers and magazines and stuff.”
“The world needs this cookbook,” said Charlie. “Can I take one of these with me when I leave today, to help me do a little background work for the book?” Nick felt his stomach sink a little bit at the word leave, even though he knew it was only for a few days until Charlie returned on Tuesday night.
“Yeah, of course,” said Nick. “Actually, take that one; I won’t need that one for a few days.”
They worked in the kitchen together for the next few minutes, making each other laugh and trying to stay out of each other’s way. Nick had stretched out the dough and Charlie was helping him top each breakfast pizza with cheese sauce as everyone started to make their way into the kitchen, each face looking a little haggard and worse for wear. They were somewhat cheered by the coffee and tea, and everyone looked a little better after eating, though they were still moving slowly.
After breakfast, Regan suggested a walk to try to shake off the remnants of everyone’s hangover. James, Amy, and Seamus declined, but Danny and Tex said they’d join, and Charlie did, too. Nick agreed to come, reluctantly lacing up his shoes, but glad that he’d decided to go once they were outside, the cold air feeling a lot better than it had when he was taking care of Nellie and Henry that morning before anyone else had gotten up.
They walked the same way that Nick and Charlie had gone the first week that Charlie had been there, up towards the cleaners’ house and past the field of horses. Nick had remembered to tell everyone to grab a carrot from the basket on the porch before they’d left, and they all stood handing snapped-off chunks to the horses.
“Here you go, Horson Welles,” cooed Danny as he fed the large black one, making Charlie laugh. Danny turned and grinned at him.
“Where do you come up with these?” asked Charlie, shaking his head in wonder.
“They just come to me, Charlie, my mate,” said Danny. He pointed toward the three horses standing near them. “Maple Stirrup,” he said, pointing at a caramel-coloured one nearby. “Al Capony. Usain Colt.”
Regan, Nick, and Tex all joined Charlie, giggling and seeming to feel a little better in the cool air. “No wonder you three get on so well,” said Charlie, indicating Nick, Danny, and Tex. “Whose brain infected whose when it came to terrible dad jokes?”
“We were all independently wealthy with pun-based humour,” said Tex, grinning. “Then we came together and combined our assets like a hedge fund of quippery.”
“Yet another strike against capitalism,” deadpanned Charlie, making Nick laugh.
“Just cheeky luck that we all found each other,” said Danny with a wink. “Life works like that sometimes, yeah? Like me and James rooming together as freshers, or you ending up at Lavvy Fields. Sometimes you just get tinny.”
“See, this is why our living Aussie-English dictionary isn’t allowed to leave your side,” complained Nick. “From inference…lucky?”
“Right-o, Nicky my love,” said Danny with a saucy wink. “Don’t listen to what Charlie says, you’re just as smart as you are pretty.” The group laughed again, Nick and Charlie included, though Nick’s ears burned. It was a stock joke of Danny’s, but it made Nick feel a little squirmy, like Charlie would be forced to think of Nick’s…looks, now. Nick had always felt fine, maybe even at times good about what he looked like, but he didn’t want Charlie to have to think about if Nick was attractive or not.
Did he…Charlie was a gay man. Did he find Nick attractive? Even that question in Nick’s mind made his stomach feel wobbly, maybe with, like - guilt. Like in that - was he doing the guy thing where he was wondering if a gay man was into him? It didn’t bother Nick in the slightest to think about gay men being attracted to him (he’d been hit on in a few gays bars when he’d gone out with Danny and James, which was no big deal and honestly quite confidence-building). But it felt odd to think of that specifically with Charlie, who was the person staying with him, in the same house. Nick was still buzzing around in his brain when he noticed that the group had started to turn and walk back to the house, Nick having entirely missed the conversation that followed.
He hurried to follow them, drawing even with Charlie and wanting to paint over any potential awkwardness. “How are you feeling? Any better?”
Charlie looked over at him, maybe a little flushed with the cold. “Oh. Oh, yeah. A lot better,” he said. “God, I haven’t drank like that in ages. Probably for good reason, too.”
“Whatever, you’re still in the throes of your youth,” said Nick wistfully. “I remember when I was in my twenties…”He cocked his head at Charlie, fully considering now. “Wait. How old are you?”
“A lady never reveals her age,” said Charlie with a sniffy tone that he only held for a minute before they both giggled. “I’m twenty-nine.”
“Ah, yes, to be in my twenties again…” repeated Nick, looking wistful all over again.
Charlie laughed. “You are literally thirty-one; you are barely out of your twenties!”
Nick lifted an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”
Charlie stammered and blushed. “I, uh-”
Nick’s eyes lit up. “Did you Google me, Charlie?”
“Well, I - everyone does! And…well, have you Googled me?”
“Of course not!” said Nick. “I never would Google any of my friends. Hey, by the way, congratulations on taking third in the science fair in Year 12. That project on albedo sounded fascinating.”
Charlie gaped at him, and then they both burst out laughing. “Okay, so we’re equally nosy.”
“I’d say…equally invested in their successes and happenings of our friends,” corrected Nick, tilting his head and delighting in Charlie’s grin, his dimples clear on his cheeks.
“Oi, catch up!” Tex called. Nick and Charlie exchanged one more last grin and hurried to get to the rest of the group, everyone laughing and having a good time as they made their way back to the house.
Before Nick knew it, it was time for everyone to depart. The group lingered in the drive for a long time, no one wanting to leave. Finally, everyone started to drift to their cars, exchanging hugs and promising to return for New Year’s Eve. Nick already couldn’t wait. He went over to say goodbye to Charlie, and then smacked himself on the forehead.
“Oh, fuck, Charlie! I almost forgot…” Nick pulled out his phone and sent Charlie the video, then went back to his reel. “I have something for you…” He shouldered up next to Charlie and opened the video, clicking play.
It opened with Nick’s face on the front-facing camera. “Hey, Oliver! We heard you’re a Badgers fan.”
The phone was snatched away, Danny’s happy face filling the screen. “We also heard you’re the brother of one Charlie Spring. And he’s pretty cool, but I’ll be honest, mate, we’ve heard there’s an even better Spring out there.”
Danny swung the phone so it was on James. “We’ll need you to come out here to see us soon. We’ll all be back in a few weeks, and we have it on good authority that your brother is going to try to get you to come out here.”
Nick took the camera back from Danny and turned it on Seamus and Tex, who both grinned and waved and called out greetings to Oliver, then shifted it over to Henry and Nellie for a moment. “These girls say hi, too,” added Nick. “They can’t wait to meet you. So make sure your brother gets you moo-ving over the holidays to come see us!” The video ended with a cut-off, intermingled booing from James and Seamus, with Danny laughing in the background.
Nick looked at Charlie, holding his breath at the silent, frozen expression on Charlie’s face. “Do you…do you think he’ll like it?”
Charlie stayed still for another moment before he moved suddenly. “Oh my god, Nick,” he exclaimed, shaking his head at Nick as the corners of his mouth turned up. “He is going to love this so, so much.” He looked wonderingly at Nick again, the smile almost trembling on his face. “Thank you - thank you so much. For doing that for him.”
Nick remembered how to speak again and smiled back. “You’re welcome. If he’s anything like you, he deserves it.” And since they were friends that hugged now, he reached out and hugged Charlie, Charlie relaxing into the hug immediately this time. Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie and felt Charlie do the same. Sometimes in a hug one person’s arms were too high or someone moved oddly and the other person had to shift but - not with Charlie. It was warm and perfect and over too soon; Nick felt the cool air rush to fill the space that Charlie had taken as soon as they separated.
Charlie stepped back and gave Nick a half-smile with that same expression from earlier that Nick still couldn’t quite parse. “Well,” said Charlie. “Bye for now, then.” He gave a shy wave and got into his car. Nick waved him and everyone else off, not going back inside until the last of the rear lights faded from his view.
Nick went back into the too-quiet house to do some too-quiet chores. He paused every so often to reflect on the weekend and what a brilliant time it had been, sometimes grinning or even laughing to himself as he recalled various moments.
His mind kept returning back to the image of the dance party from Friday night, everyone spinning and laughing and dancing, moving to the music. And Charlie, Charlie amazing everyone with his air-drums, his hands moving in fluid, sinuous, driving strokes that made his whole body seem like it was the music. Charlie had looked so happy, so alive in that moment. And then Nick realised something that would make Charlie glow like that again. He reckoned he’d have enough time to pull it off while Charlie was in London, too. Nick grinned to himself. He couldn’t wait until Charlie came back home on Tuesday.
That night in bed, Nick’s mind turned over with the list of things to do the next day: strip the beds, manage the reservation calendar and send reminder emails to guests coming, make the meal plan for the week, go food shopping to get ready. With the lads from the team gone, the inn was back open for guests and there were a few people coming that week, with a nearly full house over the weekend. Nick had warned Charlie that it was going to be busy, but Charlie had just grinned his easygoing grin and offered to help. Nick had of course rebuffed him and then Charlie had made some joke and then they’d laughed about it in the kitchen and…
Charlie. For whatever reasons, Charlie had often been on his mind before he went to sleep. Amy had told him about an article that she had read a few years ago that said the things that people thought about right before they went to bed were either the most important things in their lives or problems that they needed to puzzle through and try to get their brain to subconsciously work on as they slept. Charlie was definitely one of the more important people in his life, now - and how couldn’t he be? He was staying with Nick; their lives were intertwined. Hopefully for a long time, Nick mused. He had to assume (and hope) that theirs would be far longer than a four-week friendship. It was so odd to think that Charlie had existed in the world before, and so had Nick. And both of them had been living their lives unaware of the other until they met - and now, Nick couldn’t imagine his life without Charlie in it.
It wasn’t the other thing - Charlie definitely wasn’t a problem in his life. Charlie seemed to think he was a problem sometimes, though Nick had seen that less this week, except after that phone call with the cowpat that was B. Hope. Charlie wasn’t a problem for Nick Nelson at all. Charlie was the friend he hadn’t realised he’d been missing, kind of like what Danny said. The only problem was the prickling thought that eventually Charlie would leave again, go home to London. But Nick pushed that out of his mind for now. Charlie was still there for at least another three weeks, and Nick was going to enjoy that.
With his mind drifting off to getting the surprise organised for Charlie while he was gone, Nick pulled the pillow close to his chest to wrap it tightly in his arms, trying to quiet his brain and let sleep find him.
Notes:
Breakfast Pizzas
Dough:
1 c of water, 110F - 115F in temperature
½ tsp sugar or honey
1 package yeast (or 2 ¼ tsp)
2 Tbsp olive oil, plus some for oiling the bowl (less than 1 Tbsp)
½ c whole wheat flour
2 to 3 c all-purpose flour
½ tsp garlic powder
1 tsp italian seasoning
½ tsp saltWarm a large bowl with hot water and let it sit for 2 minutes. Pour out the water and spoon the sugar or honey into the bowl. Pour the cup of 110F - 115F water over the sugar and swirl to dissolve the sugar/honey. Add the yeast and let it sit for 5 minutes (no need to stir). Add the olive oil and whole wheat flour and mix with a fork, then add the salt and other spices listed (as well as any others you’d like to add).
Add flour by the ½ cup, using a fork or wooden spoon to combine until you can work the dough with your hands. Knead the dough until it is no longer sticky. Remove the dough and oil the bowl that it was in (rubbing oil all over the inside of the bowl). Replace the dough into the oiled bowl and lightly coat the dough with oil.
Cover the oiled dough with a tea towel and let it rise for at least 20 minutes. A nice place to do this is in the oven with the oven itself turned off but the light inside turned on. Once the dough has risen, gently poke the dough to deflate it and cut it in half. This makes around two fourteen-inch pizzas.Cheese sauce:
1 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp flour
1 c milk
¼ tsp salt
½ c grated cheddar cheeseMelt the butter in a small pot and then add the flour, whisking continuously until the butter loses its sheen, which takes about 1 minute. Slowly add in the milk, whisking continuously, until the mixture comes to a soft boil (about 3 to 4 minutes on medium heat). Add the cheddar cheese and stir until it melts, and then set aside while you prepare the pizzas.
Pizza:
Pizza dough
Scrambled eggs
8 ounces cooked meat: bacon, sausage, ham (optional)
1 c shredded mozzarella cheese
Sliced scallions (optional)
½ c chopped capsicum (optional)Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Press the dough into a 12-inch pan. Gently poke into the crust with the tines of a fork from the centre outward. Spread cheese sauce into a thin layer, then sprinkle with whatever toppings you like. Bake for 20 - 25 minutes and let it sit for 5 minutes before slicing.
Chapter 10: Beat
Summary:
Last chapter: Nick and Charlie hung out with the Badgers. Nick and Charlie are friends who hug now, to Nick’s delight.
This chapter: Nick buys Charlie a gift, then wonders why he feels a little fluttery about it. They watch a movie.
Notes:
Choo, choo! The bisexual panic train is boarding! There will be grappling with blossoming understanding of sexuality coming up, so take care of yourself ❤️
Oh, waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. You two are such a bright spot in my phone and in my life that I get to look forward to. Your messages, your kindness, and your metaphorical dick-painting on my Google docs is all I need in this life. I love you very, very much.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick stood in the front of the new drum set in the barn, beaming. It was gorgeous. He’d Googled music stores in Southampton and had found the one with the best reviews, then had gone deeper into the reviews to find any employee names who stuck out. Mike had been mentioned several times, and was seemingly the owner of the store, as well. Fortunately, Mike had been in on Monday morning when Nick called, and Nick had taken care of the farm chores before heading off to town, determined and excited to get Charlie a drumset to have while he stayed at Lavender Fields.
Mike had been immensely helpful, tilting his head in curious surprise when Nick had casually waved off Mike’s question of budget. Nick didn’t even really think about money, though he realised that was a privileged position to be in. He’d earned more than a half a million pounds from his salary alone his final season, and that didn’t include his sponsorship deals or the occasional commercials he made. Nick lived fairly reasonably in Leeds, and his financial advisor had made sure to squirrel away a large chunk of his money for retirement, leaving him two separate, generous pools: one for daily bills and costs, and the other for fun.
And the music shop had been fun, even if a bit overwhelming. Mike had talked to him about toms and shells and drum wood and pitch and all sorts of other things that Nick had not fully understood. He’d just repeated that he wanted “the best” drum set for someone who was serious about the drums, and Mike had eventually led him over to a section where a particular set had caught his eye. It was a colour called Cerulean Birds Eye Maple Burst, and though Mike had excitedly told Nick about hundreds of specifications that Nick didn’t really pay attention to, his eyes stayed on the hue of the set. It was an oceanic mix of blues and greens, and Nick firmly told Mike that he would take it.
That afternoon, Nick had paid for a person from the music store to come to Lavender Fields to assemble the set, as Nick had absolutely no clue what he was doing with it. Now, Nick was looking at the drum set again in the Tuesday morning light, grinning as he imagined the look on Charlie’s face when he saw it waiting in the barn for him when he came back on Tuesday night.
Nick had just finished cutting the grass, parking the ride-on mower in the barn before going to look at the set again, as he had quite a few times between yesterday afternoon and today. He took a deep, satisfied breath in, inhaling the scent of fresh-cut grass, the one that reminded him so often of rugby. It brought him back to both the Badgers and teams in earlier days, like when he played in secondary and even earlier, when he was still in primary school.
Unbidden, his mind suddenly reeled back to a memory from secondary. Nick remembered walking with his mates to the pitch after classes, toting both his school bag and his kit for rugby. That previous weekend, his dad had taken him and David to a rugby match to meet a few players that Nick and David liked, one of the relatively few fond memories that Nick had of his dad. Any ones that he did had were only around rugby, and those had only happened when it was convenient for Stefane. Regardless, he had taken them to meet Andrew Sheridan, who had been one of the best loosehead props in England, and Nick had excitedly gotten two rugby shirts signed - one for him, and one for his mate on the team, a lad named Rhys.
Rhys was one of the captains of the team, a scrum half himself. He was massively talented, and was likely to be pulled to a Premiership development academy soon. He hadn’t come from a lot of money, and so had never gotten the chance to go to a Premiership match himself, though he seemed happy enough to exchange awed reflections with Nick after watching on telly the weekend before.
Nick really admired Rhys when he was in secondary. He was funny and talented, and surprisingly kind even in secondary, when so many of the lads could be immature and irritating. They didn’t hang out much as Rhys was a few years older than Nick, but they connected well at training. Rhys had told Nick that he thought Nick would be well positioned for captaincy in a few years, and Nick had truly glowed at that praise coming from such a skilled player. He had thought about when Rhys told him that for weeks.
Rhys was a huge fan of Andrew Sheridan, as they were from the same hometown, and talked about him constantly. Especially after he had won Man of the Match in the 2007 Rugby World Cup. Nick had been thrilled to find out that Andrew Sheridan was going to be at the exhibition match his dad had taken him to, and was even more excited when Nick got the chance to meet him, the prop graciously signing Nick’s rugby kits that he had held out with slightly shaking hands. Nick knew that Rhys was going to go mad when Nick gave him the rugby shirt; he had said over and over that he’d die to meet Andrew.
Nick was excitedly telling some of his mates about the signed shirt when Owen shouldered up to Nick and his knot of friends as they walked across the freshly mowed grass over to the sports complex. Owen was one of those ubiquitous arseholes that show up in every secondary school - loud, obnoxious, and confusingly overconfident despite his pervasive mediocrity.
“Nick,” he said loudly in his reedy voice, which grated on Nick’s nerves. “What’ve you got there?”
Nick remembered scowling, annoyed about Owen’s interruption as he had just wanted to catch up with his actual friends. “A couple of rugby shirts. Andrew Sheridan signed them.”
Owen whistled. “Must be nice to have a loaded, famous dad, yeah?”
Nick clenched his jaw, even more irritated now. “I guess.”
“Why’d you get two?”
“One’s for Rhys,” piped up Otis, one of Nick’s best friends in secondary school. “He’s a massive Sheridan fan, you fucking know that.”
“You got one for Rhys?” sneered Owen. “That’s so weird, Nick. What are you, gay for him?”
There was an immediate round of annoyed scoffing from the other boys, all of whom equally disliked Owen as much as Nick did. Nick felt a stab of panic. He knew he wasn’t gay. He liked girls, he’d kissed girls, he’d had crushes on girls, and if the lads were to be believed, quite a few of the girls had crushes on him, too. But still, the accusation shot a bolt of fear into his middle, his hands instinctively tightening on his bag, knuckles white.
“Oh, fuck off, Owen,” said Otis.
“Yeah, mate,” said Christian, shaking his head. “It’s gay how much you talk about things being gay.”
“You’re gay,” shot back Owen in a terribly clever and original comeback.
“You are,” said Keiran, and all of them continued arguing as they walked, the lads eventually shaking off Owen.
No one had really been a fan of Owen on the team, so they had all quickly forgotten it and privately disparaged him to Nick before moving on. But Nick had remembered how sick he felt, a pit of shame in his stomach when he shoved the shirts into his locker so that no one would see them for the rest of training, including Rhys. His gut twisted thinking that Rhys would think that it was, like…something like that from Nick. Nick just admired Rhys and had the chance to get something that Rhys would find really special to give to him and make him happy. How was that weird? Nick had eventually given the shirt to Rhys a few days later, mumbling a half-hearted explanation and then perking up at the delighted look on Rhys’s face, Rhys’s whole body glowing with joy.
“Fuck, mate! This is brilliant! I can’t believe you were able to do this,” he exclaimed, turning the shirt over and looking at the signature, shaking his head in happy disbelief.
Rhys had been so happy he’d nearly hugged Nick, holding the jersey in one hand with his other open wide, taking a half-step towards Nick before stepping back and patting him affectionately on the shoulder. Nick had stood there, his body feeling anxious and expectant, then relieved and…something else that he couldn't place when Rhys stepped away again.
“Thank you so much, Nick,” repeated Rhys, now nodding and beaming at Nick. “This is fucking amazing!”
And now thirty one year old Nick Nelson took a breath, shaking himself out of his reverie. He hadn’t thought about that in ages - hadn’t thought about Rhys or Owen in ages, either. Huh. Owen, Ben, Caden - Jesus, were parents dooming their kids to a lifetime of douchebaggery if they named their sons a name that ended in -en? Nick looked back at the drum set, now struck with an odd worry that this was…too much. He’d spent a fair amount of money on the set, not even thinking when he put his card down, the nineteen hundred pounds barely even registering as a blip. But he also realised that not everyone had that same mindset about money. Would Charlie…think this was weird? Would he think it was too much? Would this make Charlie uncomfortable, thinking that Nick thought that he felt obliged to spend money on Charlie? Fuck.
Nick’s stomach twisted back up to the same way he remembered feeling on that afternoon, his clueless joy suddenly tempered by the idea of what someone else might think. And this wasn’t just someone else, this was Charlie. God. Was this a mistake? Nick felt a wave of worry wash over him, and he tore his gaze away from the drum set to go back inside to go back to Google. He had some work to do.
-
Nick was feeling better about everything that evening when Charlie arrived, his Golf kicking up a few of the crushed shells as he pulled in. Nick grinned from the porch where he’d come out as soon as he’d seen the headlamps, wanting to greet Charlie.
Charlie got out of the car slowly, pulling his work rucksack out of the passenger seat and coming up to the porch without grabbing anything else. He came over to Nick with a tired smile and Nick instinctively reached out his arms, Charlie hugging him back, the rucksack swinging against as it slipped down Charlie’s arm and hitting them both in the thigh. Nick gave Charlie one more pulse before drawing back, shouldering Charlie’s bag and ignoring his half-hearted protests.
“Anything else in the car?” asked Nick.
“Nope,” said Charlie, sounding exhausted. “I just left a lot of stuff here last time and I did laundry on Sunday when I was here, so I didn’t have to bring much.”
Nick looked carefully at Charlie as they came inside to the warmly lit dining room. “Was work okay? You right?”
Charlie blinked and looked up at Nick, then his expression softened a little as he gave Nick a weak smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just had - I got rattled a little by something yesterday.”
Nick felt his jaw clench. He had a sense that a certain single-initial-with-a-stupidly-ironic-last-name may have something to do with it. “Yeah?” Come to think of it, Charlie had been a little quieter over messages today and yesterday. Nick hadn’t really noticed it at first since he’d been so busy with getting ready for new guests and getting the drum set for Charlie. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Charlie looked at Nick again, his eyes flicking up Nick’s, then down. Nick held his breath, not wanting to spook Charlie away from opening up. “I…” He looked down again and sighed. “No, not right now, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “Honestly, I’m knackered. I think I’m going to go up early, but I can’t wait to catch up tomorrow.” He smiled at Nick, a little more broadly this time, and Nick’s heart squeezed with the idea of the surprise tomorrow.
“Same,” said Nick, cracking his fingers against his thumb, bouncing on his toes a little. “Hey can you - can you come down in the morning a little early tomorrow? Like before you start work? I found something I want to show you.”
Charlie looked at him curiously with a puzzled grin. “Yes?”
“Okay, great,” said Nick, smiling. He still felt a little anxious about the surprise for Charlie, but a bit better after what he’d figured out to do that afternoon. He said goodnight to Charlie, Charlie smiling once more at Nick before he went upstairs. Nick got a few things ready for breakfast tomorrow and planned out his day - he put together a blueberry French toast casserole since that would be easy for the group of 6 guests (plus him and Charlie tomorrow), and that could bake while he and Charlie went to the barn. Nick got in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking again about the drum set. God, he hoped Charlie liked it. He’d let his mind drift a little thinking of how thrilled Charlie would be before he got a sickening swoop in his stomach, thinking that Charlie would think it was too much or get weirded out by how over the top Nick was. Then Nick would lay there fretting about Charlie’s reaction, but then think about Charlie playing the drums and being the flowing, amazing drummer he saw dancing and be happy again…fuck.
Nick glanced at the clock and sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy to get to sleep.
-
The next morning, Nick got up blearily and went to the main house to make coffee for Charlie after he washed up and dressed. He was surprised, gratified, and pleased to see Charlie already in the kitchen, wearing black jeans and an oversized, warm-looking green sweater that Nick bet was so, so soft. Charlie smiled and held out a travel mug of tea for Nick, which Nick opened to see had the perfect amount of milk in it. He looked brightly at Charlie, his mouth open in a grin, and Charlie smiled back just as widely.
“Thank you!” beamed Nick. Then he took a business-like sip and nodded firmly. “Don’t think this gets you out of pun-laughing obligations for the day, though. We signed a trea-tea about that.” He grinned at Charlie over the cup. “Get it? Like treaty? But-”
“I literally always get it,” said Charlie, shaking his head and failing to suppress a laugh. “Now what’s this big surprise that made me miss my super-healthy doom-scrolling of the news and social media before work?”
Nick didn’t reply, just walked out of the door with a mischievous look at Charlie. Charlie snorted and followed him, pulling on a cosy-looking jacket over the soft sweater he was wearing. They walked to the barn, Charlie clutching his coffee in his travel mug. He followed Nick to the barn where Nick pushed down some hay. Charlie said good morning to the girls, scratching their ears and cooing at them, and taking some pictures for his brother, Nick assumed. He followed Nick to the top of the barn again, leaning against the barn with his hip and crossing his arms, giving Nick a smirk.
“Okay, out with it, Nick Nelson,” said Charlie. Nick had always liked the alliteration of his name, and there was…something about Charlie saying it.
“Give me my moment,” wheedled Nick, grinning. “They didn’t call me PT Barnum for nothing when I was growing up.”
“...What?”
“Because I’m the greatest showman,” said Nick, throwing open the door to the barn on the last word. Charlie laughed and followed him into the barn, where Nick wove their way through the farm equipment, discarded tools, and assembled junk to a sheet-covered assembly in a corner of the barn. “Et…voila!” Charlie seemed to drift off for a second, then his eyes focused on the drum set that Nick had just revealed under the sheet.
“Oh my god, Nick!” Charlie said excitedly, his eyes growing huge. “There’s a drum set here?! This is amazing!” He looked at the drum set and then back at Nick, his smile enormous.
“I know,” said Nick, positively glowing at Charlie’s reaction. “I was cleaning out the barn this weekend while you were away and found them!”
Charlie went over to the drums and inspected them, and Nick felt his heart jump. “God, they’re in great shape,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “It’s odd, this looks like a new set - they don’t even seem much used, just, like - dirty and with a few scratches and stuff; I wonder how your mum-”
“Dunno,” said Nick quickly. “She’s gotten loads of stuff from people around here, though, with so much space to store it, you know? This barn is massive; I found a ton of things when I was poking around yesterday.”
Charlie was still looking at the drum set in awe, his cheeks dimpled with the smile still stretched across his features. “She must have gotten them in the last, like, couple of years, they’re still so-”
“I only got here full-time a few months ago myself,” said Nick a little more loudly than he intended. “So no idea. But I want to hear you play!”
Charlie turned and gave Nick a self-conscious smile. “You want to…hear me play?”
“Uh, yes?” said Nick, cocking his head. “I want to hear the famous Charlie Spring, drumming wonderkid-”
“Wonderkind,” said Charlie with a grin.
“Right, yeah, that - the prodigy Charlie Spring! I want to hear him play!”
“Nick, I could be rubbish for all you know,” said Charlie, his hands on his hips and laughing.
Nick arched an eyebrow and smirked back. “Well - are you?”
Charlie raised his chin and paused for a moment. “No,” he said finally, that note of pride in his voice that Nick loved to hear. “I’m good.”
“Prove it, Springtime,” said Nick, grabbing a new pair of drumsticks from the set that he’d bought, all still bundled together. He handed them to Charlie. “Got these for you so you could play out here.”
“You got me drumsticks?” repeated Charlie, taking them gently from Nick’s hand, their fingers nearly touching. He pressed his lips together, then met Nick’s eyes. “That’s really thoughtful, Nick. Thank you.”
“Not at all,” said Nick with a grin. “This is selfishly for me too, you know. It gets too quiet around here sometimes, I need someone to help this place find its…rhythm.”
Charlie shook his head wryly at Nick with a smirk, spinning one of the drumsticks around in his long fingers. Nick felt momentarily dizzy watching Charlie’s easy grace, his incredible confidence. God, it was amazing to see this version of Charlie. Nick had seen a lot of them, but this one? This might be his favourite.
“I’m not sorry,” said Nick after a few seconds-long pause, coaxing a loud laugh out of Charlie.
“You never are,” said Charlie, laughing still and shaking his head. “All right…” He landed a few exploratory strikes on the drums, tapping against the kick drum as well. “Let’s do this.” With that, he went into a…drum solo thing? Nick didn’t know what to call it. But whatever it was, it was fucking unreal. Charlie just looked entirely in his element. Like he was dancing the other weekend, Charlie was smooth, lithe, flowing. The word “sexy” popped to mind, and Nick understood why people said drummers were sexy. It was just…amazing to watch someone with that easy, confident grace. And Charlie knew he was good, ending his solo with a bang on a cymbal, then giving another little twirl of a drumstick, Nick shaking his head in awe.
“You are fucking unreal, Charlie Spring!” Nick said, awed.
Charlie laughed and it was happy and gorgeous, his eyes sparkling. He looked down at his watch, sighing. “Shit, I have to get to work,” he said.
“Not before breakfast, young man,” said Nick in a scolding voice. “Grab a plate before you go up; I’ll grab the dishes later. Go on without me; I need to haul down some grain for the girls before I come back in.”
“Sounds good,” said Charlie with a smile. “Thanks, Nick. And oh my god - thank you for finding these drums!” He traced one of the drums again with his graceful hands, Nick unable to look away. “I haven’t had a real drum set in ages.”
“Yeah, since you lived at home, right?”
Charlie looked at Nick, tilting his head. “How’d you know that?”
Nick grinned and gave a little shake of his head back at Charlie. “You told me? The first week you were here?”
“And you remembered…?” Charlie trailed off, taking a breath, then smiling again. “This is amazing. I can’t wait to play again after work today.”
“I can’t wait to listen,” said Nick with a grin.
After Charlie left, Nick pulled down a few grain bags and stacked them in a wheelbarrow to bring them to the lower half of the barn where Nellie and Henry were. He’d tested the drum kit out a bit to make sure it didn’t disturb them; they seemed udderly unbothered. Oh. Oh, Nick needed to remember that for Charlie. Also, maybe recognise that he might have a problem?
Before he went down to the lower part of the barn, Nick paused by the drum set before pulling the sheet back over to keep it from dust. He felt a little twist in his gut as he thought about the other day. Google hadn’t offered any suggestions for how to make a drum set look more aged, just how to clean them instead. Nick had tried hitting the drums a bunch to make all the little marks like he’d seen on pictures he found online, but that hadn’t done much. He’d eventually rubbed some actual dirt on the drums, then tried wiping them with tea to see if he could stain them a little. Nick couldn’t really tell if it worked, but maybe they had a more amber hue? He had also taken some ash from one of the fireplaces and rubbed the tips of the drumsticks in it to make little black marks that looked reasonably realistic and made the drums look more used, even after Nick brushed off the surface again. Nick had even taken some sandpaper to the edge of a few of the drums, wincing as he did so but the fear of Charlie thinking he was over the top, buying a new drum set - that felt even scarier. Nick felt another odd swoop of shame, thinking about how he’d purposefully set about ruining the kit a little. But then again, the idea of Charlie being embarrassed by Nick’s purchase or thinking that Nick was over the top was much, much worse.
And it had worked. Charlie had just assumed that the drums were one of the pieces in the barn, just like Nick had hoped. And more than anything else, Charlie was happy.
-
That afternoon, Nick moved some of his chores into the barn, pressing some lavender into oil while Charlie played. It wasn’t quite like listening to music since it was just beats and percussion, but Nick loved it all the same. He liked the glimpses of Charlie that he got in between looking at his work, and loved the sensation of the music and the beat actually feeling like it went into his body.
Thursday was much the same, and Charlie had a nice break from meetings during the day to come down and have lunch with Nick. He even helped Nick with room turnovers, which meant that Nick wouldn’t let him actually help with anything but permitted Charlie to keep him company as he turned over the rooms.
That evening, Charlie came back downstairs after Nick had said goodnight to the guests - an older couple with their two adult children and their partners on holiday. They were pleasant and easy to be around, but it was still nice to get back to just…Nick and Charlie. Charlie was holding something against his chest, wearing yet another soft-looking sweater that Nick wanted to touch just to see if it was as soft as it looked. Nick smiled at Charlie and Charlie smiled back.
“So, Nick…” said Charlie, laying a blue folder down on the kitchen counter next to where Nick was working. “I wanted to show you a few proofs I have.”
Nick furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh…” He pointed to the bread for tomorrow, proving on the counter. “Proofs?”
Charlie laughed. “Sorry. Some pages? For your mum’s cookbook?” Charlie opened the folder and laid out some sheets of paper. Nick put down what he was working on and stood next to Charlie in the kitchen, their shoulders nearly touching. “So, I pulled a few of the recipes and set them, then just added some placeholder art for now, from pictures I pulled online?” Charlie spread out a few more pages and Nick felt his throat tighten, which was so stupid. They were just pages.
But as he looked, he only felt a little more constricted. These were his mum’s recipes. And this time, not just written in her smooth, lovely handwriting. They were her recipes, laid out beautifully, with pictures. It was so fucking magical to think of all of her recipes like this, with pictures of her food, that people could open to a page of and look at and make and then share with the people that they loved. It was…god, it was perfect. Nick felt Charlie’s eyes on his and blinked rapidly, shaking his head and forcing out a chuckle to get the knot out of his throat.
“Oh my god, Charlie,” said Nick, looking at Charlie full on in the face. “This is…thank you.” He reached out his arm to squeeze Charlie’s forearm, just connecting with him for a moment. “This is truly incredible.”
“God, Nick!” said Charlie, turning away with tears in his eyes, but he was laughing. “You’re going to make me cry!”
“I’m not crying!”
“Oh, what, the big strong rugby lad can’t admit he’s emotional?” Charlie had his hands on his hips now, giving Nick a cheeky look.
“It’s just the onion I was cutting before,” protested Nick, now laughing.
“That onion looks suspiciously like a pineapple, Nick.”
“Who’s the kitchen expert?” Nick demanded.
Charlie laughed, too, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “Well, I’ve spent the last week or so looking at recipes, so I’d say both of us!”
“Fine,” acquiesced Nick, grinning. “We’re both tender-hearted kitchen aficionados.”
“I can accept that,” said Charlie, smiling too. “But do you think this is on the right track? Is there anything you want me to change?”
“Nothing,” said Nick emphatically, and Charlie looked up at him, his blue eyes looking bright against the yellow sweater he was wearing today.
“Well, um - good,” said Charlie, a slight blush on his cheeks that Nick inexplicably felt on his own face, too.
The following day was Friday, and Nick didn’t even have to pretend to stay busy until Charlie was done with work to accompany him to town. The couples had all left that morning and there were four new groups coming that afternoon for a weekend at Lavender Fields. Nick was a whirl all morning, working with the cleaners and changing the sheets, preparing food and turning over rooms.
It was a relief to get in the big comfortable truck with Charlie and head to town, the two of them laughing and singing along to some of the songs that Charlie played, especially the ones that Nick had been listening to while Charlie was in London and Nick had done his chores around Lavender Fields. The day was cold but the truck was warm, and Charlie had broken down and bought a hot drink for both him and Nick, Nick gently rinsing him for betraying his gay roots (though Nick called it be-gaying his roots, which made Charlie laugh).
They got back to Lavender Fields, and Charlie decided he was internally warm enough to brave a few minutes in the barn to play the drums, Nick eagerly offering to join. He sat on an overturned crate, listening to Charlie play while doing some minor repairs to one of the irrigation heads; something he’d picked up after a lot of YouTube tutorials.
There was a break in the sound and Nick looked up to see Charlie looking at him. “Have you ever played an instrument?”
Nick chuckled. “No, definitely not,” he said. “On the Venn diagram of me and rhythm, it’s just two entirely separate circles.”
Charlie laughed. “Have you ever tried?”
Nick squinted his eyes, trying to remember. “In the year 4 play they had all of us play something. I remember that eventually Mrs. White just shoved the triangle at me and mumbled something about standing in the back.”
Charlie giggled and Nick grinned, loving that sound coming out of him. “What about the drums?”
Nick thought for a moment. “Nope,” he said. “Never.”
“Until now,” said Charlie, raising his eyebrows. “Give it a shot?”
Nick sighed. “Do you really want to be that cruel to your one and only pair of ears?”
Charlie grinned. “Don’t talk to my friend Nicholas like that.”
Nick mock-gasped. “That’s my line! You stole my line!”
“Borrowed,” corrected Charlie with a smile. “Come on, give it a try.”
A few minutes later, Charlie was wincing and laughing, Nick doing the same as he banged out a truly horrendous series of…hits?...on the drums, feeling like he was stabbing at the air and sometimes impacting a surface more than actually playing a musical instrument.
“God, you’re terrible,” said Charlie with a gentle, teasing grin.
Nick flushed but grinned back, weakly protesting. “I’m trying!”
Charlie moved to stand next to Nick, who was sitting on the drum stool that Nick had also “found” in the barn. “Here, budge up, let me help.” He slid next to Nick on the stool, Nick pushing over to make room. They each had a hip on the surface, the tops of their legs pressed together. Nick felt a little warm despite the chill in the barn.
Charlie slid his hands around Nick’s so that he was guiding Nick’s hands and the drumsticks. Nick looked down for a moment, taking in what it looked like to have Charlie’s hands on the outside of his. Charlie started moving his hands, and Nick just let his arms go, let Charlie guide him. Nick knew he should be looking at the drums and trying to learn the patterns that Charlie was showing him, but instead he just looked at…Charlie. Charlie’s face was focused on the drums in front of them, guiding Nick’s hands and tapping out a rhythm that Nick never could (or would) achieve on his own in a thousand years. Nick felt the grin growing on his face as Charlie built up a little speed, ending with a sharp note to one of the cymbals.
Charlie looked at him and smiled, hands still on Nicks. “There,” he said with a little laugh. “You’re a pro now.” Nick laughed and Charlie looked down at their connected hands and dropped Nick’s. “That’s probably cheating, though,” he added, getting up, his ears red.
Nick tried to think of something funny to respond with, but just grinned instead. The rest of the night was nice - it was with Charlie, after all - but Nick couldn’t stop thinking of the feeling of the music flowing through him with Charlie leading the way, Charlie’s hands on his.
-
On Saturday morning, Charlie helped Nick with the breakfast for the entirely full house that they had. They worked easily around each other in the kitchen, Charlie taking it on himself to brew the coffee and tea, passing it out to guests as Nick brought out plates. As the guests ate, they pulled up stools to the counter in the kitchen for their own breakfast, the murmurs of the guests floating in the open doorway. Charlie left for a bit to go to town that afternoon to get some jellies for a brunch that Elle was hosting in London the next day, and Nick busied himself with room freshening and stall mucking for the girls, just his favourite thing in the world to do.
Charlie joined Nick that evening to watch the Badgers-Harlequins matchup, a home match in Leeds. Nick smiled to himself, watching Charlie lean in towards the television during tense moments, clearly more interested than he had been the last time. Charlie exclaimed out loud when the Badgers scored their first try, a gritty reach from Tex adding five points to their score.
“Look who’s a rugby fan now!” said Nick, toasting Charlie’s glass with his beer bottle. “I see you, secret Badgers fan.”
Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “It’s easier to care about something when it’s people you know, you know?”
“I know,” said Nick, making Charlie laugh.
Nick had unfrozen some pesto sauce that Sarah had made the previous summer and made a quick dinner of pesto chicken, baked with cherry tomatoes and mozzarella. He and Charlie had that and salad, eating bites together on the couch, occasionally setting their plates down on the table in Nick’s living room as they watched. Nick was exuberant as always as he watched, and more than once he caught Charlie grinning at some mildly could-be-considered-over-the-top reaction to a play that definitely deserved a strong reaction.
The match ended up going into extra time after the Badgers scored to tie it up with less than three minutes on the clock. Nick was chuffed to see Charlie leaning forward and muttering under his breath, saying things that were not quite right (like, ‘Get it to the goal!’) but were nonetheless supportive. It was a nail-biting last fifteen minutes that ended in mild frustration, the match eventually concluding with an 18-18 drawn score.
“Jesus,” said Charlie, flopping back on the couch. “That was way more intense than the last one we watched!”
“I know, right?” said Nick. “Like you said, it’s different when you know people on the pitch.” He leaned back, too, mirroring Charlie. “I always get so riled up after a match like that - it was worse when I played of course, but even now, I have to like…come down after an intense fixture like that.”
“I get that now,” admitted Charlie, rubbing his chest dramatically. “I have to get up early tomorrow to leave since I’m doing that brunch with Elle and Tao and a few friends tomorrow, but I feel like there’s no way I can go to bed right now.”
Nick grunted with effort to haul himself forward, getting up and then kneeling to open the cabinet to the side of the TV. “Can I interest you in a mental cool-down with one of Sarah Nelson’s VHS classics?”
Charlie laughed and scrambled up. “Uh, yes please.”
“Get ready,” warned Nick. “This is like the Library of Alexandria…if the Library of Alexandria specialised in films that were produced before 2002.”
Charlie picked up a copy of Batman & Robin and swirled it in front of his nose like a fine wine. “Ah, yes - this one is giving me light hints of nipples-on-Batman costume, with a slight aftertaste of gay Robin?”
Nick laughed loudly, selecting another and handing it to him. “And this?”
Charlie nodded approvingly. “This is a vintage John Travolta, I believe. Yes, looking at the label, I can see this is Face/Off, which some experts actually contend was a medical documentary instead of a fictional piece. I believe this came from 1997, a truly excellent year for films.”
Nick couldn’t stop giggling; Charlie was killing him. “All right, as the VHS sommelier, I trust you entirely to select a film that pairs perfectly with the open bag of chocolate chips I have downstairs.”
Charlie nodded somberly, looking deep in thought. “Yes, let’s see. What pairs well with chocolate…ah, yes. The chef recommends Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze.” He held up the VHS copy, grinning at Nick. He held out the plastic box towards Nick like he was presenting a fine bottle. “This is our 1991, sir. It has been aged in this non-biodegradable polymer vessel for your viewing pleasure.”
Nick accepted the box, opening it and giving the tape a long, appreciative sniff. “Ah, yes, this will do quite nicely, thank you.”
“Very well, sir,” said Charlie, and Nick knew his smile looked incredibly stupid and keen. He took the tape from Charlie and pushed it into the VCR that Sarah still had connected to the TV, switching it over to the correct cable. Both of them giggled as they realised that they had to actually rewind the tape, both of them reminiscing on their days as teenagers going into Blockbuster. They paused the film and went downstairs together to get tea and some mini chocolate chips, which Nick sprinkled into a bowl of popcorn, blowing Charlie’s mind with the combination. The upstairs didn’t heat as efficiently as the downstairs, so Nick went over to the basket and pulled out the largest blanket that Sarah owned, fluffing it out over both of them, the bowl of popcorn in the middle.
They chatted through the first half of the film, laughing both at how dated it was and even at some of the jokes, too. Nick had forgotten that this film was actually kind of funny. Nick found himself sort of invested after an hour, and realised he’d been watching attentively for a few minutes without any word from Charlie. Nick looked over to say something poking fun at the both of them for seriously watching to see that Charlie was asleep, his head leaned gently to one side, cushioned by the pillows. One arm - his left arm, further away from Nick - was tucked under the blanket, the soft fabric snuggled up around his chest. His other arm was outside the blanket, his right palm resting face up in the space between Nick and Charlie.
Nick’s mind flashed back to when the Badgers had all been there just last weekend. He’d looked at Danny and James holding hands - like, really looked for the first time. He never had before; he’d never wanted it to seem like he was staring because they were two men holding hands. But that day he had and he saw just…two hands, holding each other. Danny’s broad, tan hand interlaced with James’s longer fingers. It looked comfortable and masculine and loving and…right.
Now Nick was looking at Charlie’s hand. Charlie’s hand, the one that has spun a drumstick so elegantly and…sensually, almost. Like - Charlie was just so graceful and intentional and impressive with the way he played the drums; the way he was clearly attuned to his hands when he played. Nick took advantage of Charlie being asleep to look a little more carefully. Charlie had long, graceful fingers, curving up elegantly as he slept. Nick had felt those fingers around his yesterday, but not really… looked. Charlie’s palm looked rough and smooth at the same time, the callused bumps below his fingers visible in the light glowing off the television, but his hand still looked warm and soft. Nick felt that same sense of dizziness in his stomach that he had in the barn as Charlie spun the drumstick the first time. He felt the same twisting, disorienting oscillation between excitement and panic that he had felt when Charlie had wrapped his hands around Nick’s to show him how to play the drums, even though it was only for a few moments.
Nick wondered what it would be like to properly hold Charlie’s hand.
When Danny and James held hands, it looked like…connection. Closeness. Nick knew he wanted to be close to Charlie as often as possible. They had been together nearly all week when Charlie hadn’t been working, and Nick had honestly loved it. It was just easy with Charlie - it was fun and warm and friendly and made Nick feel happier than he had since he had left the Badgers. Maybe that was it - it was the connection. Nick missed the connection of the team, and Charlie was a connection. Maybe that was why Nick was sitting with his heart pounding at triple its normal speed, Nick almost light-headed.
But maybe - maybe it wasn’t just…that. The desire for connection. It was something about Charlie’s hand, there next to him, looking like it was hued with a golden glow from the lighting on the screen. Nick lifted his left hand and tentatively reached it towards Charlie’s, wondering if maybe he could make this tight, terrifying feeling go away if he just, like - satiated that curiosity. He extended his hand so it was just over Charlie’s, imagining that he could feel a crackle of electricity between them. He took in a sharp breath and drew his hand back. No. No, he couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t not do this.
Nick reached out again, his breath feeling like it was quivering in his lungs. He could see his hand trembling slightly as he reached again, and this time, Nick could even imagine the snap of static electricity between their palms this time. It was like his whole body was aching to find out what it felt like to hold Charlie’s hand; to see if it eased that feeling of his skin being too tight, the same feeling he’d had all week. Longer than that, maybe. Nick extended his hand even closer, his breath catching and body hot and scared and wanting and terrifying. He was close - so close to Charlie’s skin. If Nick just moved his arm by a few centimetres, he’d be holding hands with Charlie Spring. God, he wanted to see what that felt like. But - no. No. Charlie was asleep and Nick was just confused and wondering because of Danny and James and being with someone he felt connected with for the first time in ages, and no. He jerked his hand back like it had been burned, tucking his hand into his chest and crossing his arms to remove the temptation.
None of that.
Nick settled his breathing and pulled out his phone, determinedly going into the group chat, then Instagram, then Twitter, then a work advice blog he’d read before, reading pages and filling his brain as the film played on in the background and as Charlie slept quietly next to him. He was feeling better when the film ended and the credits came up. Well, not better - but more…settled. Being from 1991, the film’s sound mixing wasn’t great, and the credits scene music came on louder than the dialogue, making Charlie start and stir, stretching his arms above his head as he blinked awake.
“Sorry,” mumbled Charlie, yawning. “I guess I missed some of the greatest cinematic accomplishment of the 20th century.”
“Yeah,” said Nick, trying to grin and doing it somewhat well, he thought. “And now you’ll never, ever know how it ends.”
Charlie broke his yawn off into a little laugh. “You’re right. Too bad there are no centrally-shared informational pages that are publicly available using a tiny pocket computer that could ever help me find the plot.”
Nick laughed lightly and got up, rewinding the tape and neatening a few things as Charlie slowly raised himself off the couch, taking the blanket with him. When Nick turned back around, Charlie had wrapped the blanket fully around himself, the fabric draped over his head and slightly squashing his curls. Charlie sighed, looking at the large clock in the living room. “I wish I didn’t have to go so early tomorrow.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go, either,” echoed Nick, looking at Charlie. The blanket was around his arms, too, like a robe, and despite Nick’s earlier - whatever that was - he felt himself smile, admiring how cosy Charlie looked. Nick cocked his head to the side, grinning at Charlie.
“What?” asked Charlie, a puzzled smile on his face.
“Nothing,” said Nick. Then, before he could stop himself, “You look so cuddly like that.” He did. Charlie looked so cuddly and perfectly soft in that moment.
Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together, in a gently, faintly dubious look of disbelief. “Really?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, taking Charlie in once more, at how warm and melty he looked. Then he was hugging Charlie. He wrapped himself around Charlie’s body in a normal hug at first, then adjusted his arms so that he could brace one forearm between Charlie’s shoulder blades, the other pulling Charlie in by the middle of the back. Nick felt Charlie jump a little as if surprised when he first wrapped around Charlie, and was about to let him go when Charlie raised his arms, too, wrapping them around Nick and pressing his hands against the middle of Nick’s back.
Nick felt tears spring into his eyes, which was utterly ridiculous. It was a hug. A hug with Charlie. A hug with his friend Charlie, who he had hugged before. But it was also a hug that Nick never, ever, ever wanted to end. He was so…comfortable here in Charlie’s arms, and with Charlie in his. Charlie was close and was right there and was warm and present and it was all Nick wanted. He took a deep breath, trying to physically take the moment in, savouring the feeling of holding Charlie and Charlie holding him back. He realised with a start that this was…Nick didn’t even know the word. It was…
Long.
It was too long.
He released Charlie and stepped back, a swoop of anxiety in his belly. Nick wanted more than anything to look at Charlie, but he also wanted more than anything to not look at Charlie and see what might be in his eyes - annoyance, regret, revulsion, confusion. He settled for a quick grin, not meeting Charlie’s gaze.
“Okay, well - goodnight.” With that, Nick turned and headed down, assuming Charlie would go through the open door in his living room into the main house, where Charlie’s bedroom was just across the hall.
Nick let his footsteps get faster on the second half of the stairs after the landing, where Charlie probably couldn’t hear him. He essentially fled into his bathroom, closing the door behind him and gripping the sink as he stared into the vanity, taking deep breaths. Nick didn’t know what was happening to him. Nick didn’t understand what was happening to him. He felt his hands trembling and his chest tight. Nick wanted to go back upstairs and hold Charlie again and ask him what was wrong with him, to ask Charlie to help him understand why he was…why he was like this about Charlie. But there was no way - there was no way he was going to force Charlie into whatever shit was happening with him. Not any more than he already had, Nick thought miserably, blinking back tears as regret burned through his stomach.
What was he doing? Buying drum sets for Charlie to make him happy, then freaking out about his gift to make it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Wanting to be around Charlie every moment. Wanting to hold Charlie’s hand, not ever wanting to let Charlie go. Nick looked up at the mirror in desperation, trying to make sense of anything at all.
What is happening to me? He asked himself, his eyes red and raw looking. He mechanically got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing his face, rubbing his face with the towel longer than he needed to so he could delay looking at himself again. When he did, he saw himself in front of the mirror, but felt like it was one of those momentary out of body flashes. Nick saw someone standing there - a man, tall, broad, auburn hair, brown eyes. The person looked uncertain and confused and like he wanted so, so badly to understand what was happening, why he was like that, who he even was. Nick shut his eyes and turned away from the mirror, going into the bedroom and hauling himself into bed, pulling the covers over them in a search for any type of comfort.
He hugged the pillow against him as he lay on his back, his mind loud and racing and scattered. Nick took a long, shuddering pull of air and tried to breathe, the way he did before matches. Inhale for four…out for six. Slow, deep breaths. He tensed every muscle for the inhales and released everything on the exhales, trying to remind himself to be in his body, not just his brain. Inhale, tense, exhale, relax. After a few rounds, Nick was doing better, and could feel his body again - feel the blankets on top of his skin, feel the pillow that he was clutching against his chest. He took another deep breath and curled onto his side, trying to keep his breaths deep and mind quieter. And it was quieter now, replaced by the memory of holding Charlie just a few minutes ago. Charlie, who had looked up at him with his blue eyes from under the blanket, asking what Nick had been looking at. Nick had been looking at…Charlie.
Charlie, the person staying with him at Lavender Fields. Charlie, his friend. Charlie, the man he cared about and wanted to be sure was happy. Charlie, who was always on his mind as he fell asleep recently. Charlie, who would only be here for two more weeks. It was always Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.
It was Charlie.
Notes:
Baked French Toast
This recipe does need to sit overnight, so it’s a good one to prepare the night before and then just bake and serve in the morning.
Ingredients
6 eggs
2 c whole milk
2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinnamon
2 Tbsp butter, chilled and diced
1 c blueberries (you can substitute any other fruit)
⅓ to ½ c brown sugar
1 baguette, cut into 1-inch cubes (or bread of choice)Spray a 9” x 13” pan with baking spray.
Cut the bread into cubes and let it sit on the cutting board to dry out as long as you can (at least 15 minutes). Combine the eggs, vanilla, milk, and cinnamon in a large bowl, using a hand whisk or an immersion blender to thoroughly mix. Put the dried bread into the prepared pan, then slowly pour the egg mix on top. Scatter the cubed butter over the bread, then add the blueberries or other fruit, then top with brown sugar. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
In the morning, remove the disk from the refrigerator and allow it to sit at room temperature for 30 to 60 minutes while the oven preheats to 350 degrees F. Bake for 45 minutes, checking after 30. If the top is getting too brown, lightly cover with aluminum foil. Let the dish rest for 10 minutes before cutting and serving.
Chapter 11: Confrontation
Summary:
Last chapter: Nick felt a lot of feelings.
This chapter: NICK FEELS A LOT OF FEELINGS.
Notes:
This is going to be one of the weightier chapters of this story, where our sweet boy is figuring things out. Read with care! CW for strong homophobic language.
Thank you to the truly incomparable waveofyou and NellieSayzBork who held my fictional hand through this one and offered a combination of loving, kind, and hilarious comments on this 'lil chappie.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excepts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been a frustrating week of training to begin with. They had come off of a shitty match the previous weekend, and it just didn’t seem to be clicking this week at practice. There were odd things going on with the team, too - Danny and James, who were best mates, had seemed to be off for the last few weeks, though Danny had seemed a little better even just the last few days. James, though, had been in a foul mood for nearly the last month, and there hadn’t been any change in that this week for him.
On that Thursday, they’d had the worst training yet. It was bitterly cold, one of those days where everything hurt even more because of the frigid temperatures, and tempers were short. Nick caught himself even being snappish with other players at various points, annoyed at how poorly it felt like he and the team were playing in general. Harry Greene, who was a wanker at the best of times, had been particularly on his shit, and during the last scrimmage landed a cheap tackle on James, James landing hard on the ground on his shoulder that had endured a few injuries before. Wilco had needed to break up the small scuffle that resulted, James and Harry yelling at each other, breath white and angry in the cold air.
Coach Croft called it a day soon after, no one in the best state of mind to be productive. The team made their way back into the changing room, Nick feeling particularly irritated with himself and a little despondent about the match coming up. Players were grumbling to each other as they came in shivering, and James and Harry continued to snipe at each other as the team went back into the relative warmth of the room. Harry said something else to James who swung into his stall and slammed his gear down on the bench, muttering darkly to Fitzy, sitting next to him.
“I don’t know what his fucking problem is,” said James as he sat, scowling and starting to pull off his boot.
“Are you talking about me, Walker?” demanded Harry in a tone that immediately raised Nick’s hackles. He had never been a fan of Harry Greene, whose entitlement outshone his talent by many degrees.
“I am,” said James, standing back up and glaring. “What the fuck is your issue?”
“What the fuck is your issue?” retorted Harry, stepping towards James. “It was training.”
“Yeah, it was training,” James spat back, not backing down from Harry. “You don’t use contact like that on your own fucking teammates during training.”
“You do if you’re not training like a little bitch,” said Harry, glaring at James.
“Why are you being such a dick?” demanded James, and Nick had to agree, already feeling wary of what was brewing. “Just apologise and we’ll move the fuck on.”
“Get over it and we’ll move the fuck on,” snarled Harry, getting closer.
“I’m not the one who went overboard at training; I was playing my goddamn position the way I was supposed to and you were acting like a fucking moron.” James’s face looked hard, jarringly different from the way he normally looked.
“Grow a fucking pair,” said Harry loudly, he and James now less than a foot from each other. He reached out and pushed James lightly on the chest, Danny looking up sharply from his spot on the bench a few seats down and quickly rising, a few other guys looking up too. “It was a hit. It’s fucking rugby.” Harry got closer, his sneering face near James’s. “Be a man, stop acting like such a little fag.”
Nick had already dropped his shit and was turning to seize Harry to do - he didn’t know what but do something. He was too late, though - amid a background of yelling, Danny was on Harry first, grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him into one of the stalls. His face was unlike Nick had ever seen it before: pure, deep rage almost bordering on hate. Lads were yelling and grabbing at Danny and Harry to pull them apart, and Nick caught the look on James’s face, a look of abject terror morphing into something else. Wilco and Seamus both seized Danny and Nick grabbed Harry, wrenching him away. Nick was disgusted to even touch him, but it was his duty as a captain to help break it up.
Danny was struggling against Wilco and Seamus, both of them gripping him tightly as he fought to get out of their grasp, his face contorted with fury, a totally disconcerting look to see on him. Harry was fighting against Nick, too, his lip bloody. “What the fuck,” spat Harry, glaring at Danny. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you goddamn psychopath?”
“Who’s a fag, Harry?” screamed Danny, lunging once more towards him and making Seamus and Wilco stagger with the strain of holding him back. “Someone who has sex with men, right? You want to use that word as a weapon? Attack someone with it? ‘Cos that’s me, chief. I’ve fucked men before. I’ve fallen in love with a man before.” He settled down for a second, still staring at Harry hatefully, but no longer trying to get at him, his face looking like a mixture of things. Nick saw the expression on Seamus’s face, one of complete shock, just like Nick felt. James was still standing stock-still, and Amy was next to him, her face pale and anxious. Danny shook his head at Wilco and Seamus like he had himself under control and they let him go. Danny stepped a little closer to Harry, who had drawn back and wasn’t fighting Nick anymore, seemingly frozen. “So you want to call someone a fag?” asked Danny, stepping closer to Harry, his breath still heavy, chest rising and falling. “Go ahead, Harry. I’m right here, mate. Call me a faggot to my face.”
The locker room was dead silent. Nick caught another glimpse of James’s face, which was bloodless white. Harry didn’t say anything; he just looked murderous and disgusted, glaring hatefully at Danny. Incidentally, Nick felt both of those, too - just about Harry.
Danny stepped even closer and Nick saw Wilco and Seamus subtly move to be nearby in case they needed to step in again. Danny locked eyes with Harry and said again, “Go on. Say it. Call me a fag.” He held Harry’s gaze until Harry finally broke eye contact and turned his head away, pretending like Danny wasn’t there like a fucking child. “Yeah,” said Danny quietly, nodding to himself. “I didn’t think so, you fucking coward.”
Danny turned back towards the rest of the lads. Nick had never seen him look like that before, all traces of happiness and joy absent from his face. Danny looked at Wilco, then Coach Croft, then swept his gaze over the rest of the room. “Now you know,” he said defiantly. “This is me.” He stood silently for a moment, his hands curling in and out of fists as he looked around at the lads in a long, painfully quiet look. “He’s either off the team or I am.” With that, Danny’s eyes met James’s for a moment before he left the locker room, slamming the door so hard that Nick could hear the glass rattle in the coaches’ office windows.
The room quieted again to an awful, suffocating silence for a moment that seemed to vibrate with tension. Nick shoved Harry away from him, not wanting to touch him for another second.
“Video room. Now.” said Wilco. He turned to Harry, who had been wiping the blood off his mouth angrily. “Not you. Stay the fuck out,” he said, pointing towards the coaches’ office.
Harry sneered and looked at Coach Croft, giving a disbelieving tilt of his head. “Get out,” Coach Croft confirmed. “Go.”
Harry gave one more look of indignant disgust to the room, holding out his hands as though he expected someone to stand up for him. No one did. He waited another moment before storming into the office, where Coach Singh firmly closed the door behind her. “I’ll stay back,” she said, a few of the defensive coaches offering to join her.
“Film room,” Wilco repeated, and Nick numbly went to follow and usher the rest of the lads towards the room when James stood up. He looked around wildly, his eyes settling on Nick, then Seamus, and then Wilco. Wilco gave a tiny jerk of his head and James bolted from the changing room, keys and phone in hand. Nick wasn’t too surprised. Danny and James had been having some sort of issue the last few weeks, but they were still best mates. Of course James was going to be there for him. Nick wondered if James had known - about Danny. Nick himself was reeling as he walked silently with the team to the video room. He felt like his entire world had been shaken. Danny dated women. Danny slept with women. Nick had seen him kiss women and pick up women at bars and flirt shamelessly with women. It was hard to reconcile - Danny had sex with men? It was hard to wrap his brain around. Did he date men? He said he’d been in love with a man before. Nick couldn’t…that was…
He was honestly reeling. He truly had no idea - no idea. But now that he thought about it, it was possible - fuck, no, it was probable - that there were other players who were gay, too. Nick had just never…thought about it. He had just assumed everyone was straight and unquestioning and unbothered about their sexuality. But now he knew - and he should have known. It really made no difference, though. Danny was the same person. The same big-hearted, funny, talented scrum-half he was literally ten minutes ago. He was the same.
Except maybe to fuckers like Harry. As they walked in the heavy silence, only the sound of feet on the ground, some still clad in boots, Nick got angrier and angrier.
Fuck Harry saying that. Fuck him thinking that this is a space he can use that word. Fuck that he thinks that’s an attack. Fuck the idea of ever having to play with him again. Fuck Danny ever having to see Harry again, and any other guy on the team who might also be - be like Danny - fuck them having to see someone like Harry on their team again, too.
Nick had a sudden, strong urge to call Danny. He wanted to tell Danny that just because he liked men or dated men or had been in love with a man he was no different from anyone else on the team. There was nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with Danny. Nick felt himself get hotter and angrier as the team got to the film room. Wilco silently pointed at the seats, the lads filing in. He then pointed to a small office just outside the film room to Seamus and Nick, the two of them following him, Coach Croft joining as well.
Before Wilco could even say anything, Nick couldn’t hold it in any longer, the words bursting out of him. “I don’t want to play with anyone who says shit like that. Harry, I mean.” He looked at Wilco and Coach and Seamus, his eyebrows furrowed as he rushed on. “Danny should feel safe. And anyone else who’s…like him, too. I don’t - this isn’t a team that’s okay with what just happened. Or at least I’m not okay with a team that’s okay with what just happened.”
Wilco was silent for a moment, then nodded at Nick thoughtfully. “Good.” He turned to Seamus. “Shea?”
“Fuck that fucking fucker and every fucking thing he said,” spat Seamus. “Greene, I mean.”
“Got that,” said Wilco.
“Wilco, I assume you feel the same, right?” asked Coach Croft, looking at the captain.
Wilco nodded, and even though he didn’t say anything, Nick could feel the intensity of his commitment even just in Wilco’s body language.
“I assumed so for all of you,” said Coach Croft. “But it's good to confirm. I’ll talk to Harry separately. If he has a problem with Danny at all, he’s gone. He may be gone anyway - even if he doesn’t have a problem and apologises or anything like that…well, that would be up to Danny. Danny’s not going to be forced to play with someone like that, and there’s no goddamn way Danny’s off this team.”
“Fucking right,” barked Seamus, and Nick nodded vehemently.
“I think it’ll mean more coming from you lot,” said Coach, nodding at Wilco, Seamus, and Nick. “Though I’ll make it one hundred percent clear where I stand.”
“Agreed,” said Wilco. “I’ll lead. Lads, jump in whenever you want.” He nodded again at Nick and Seamus, and Nick instinctively stood up a little straighter, following Wilco to the film room. It was still dead silent as they walked in, all faces turning to look at them, a mixture of expressions.
“Right,” said Wilco, addressing the room. “This team is a team. There is no place on this team for anyone who doesn’t support their teammates. Danny’s our teammate. It’s simple. If you don’t support him, you can leave.” He looked around, making eye contact with the lads as everyone continued to sit silently. “Send me a message right after this, send Coach a message. Or raise your hand now. Coach will do what he can to get you a trade, because if that’s the case, this isn’t the team for you.” He paused again, and Nick braved a look at the men in the room. There were firm nods of agreement going around the room. No one looked angry or disgusted or like they were ready to leave.
Wilco paused again, letting his words sink in. “You’ve got until tomorrow before training to decide if you’re on this team or if you’re not. But keep this in mind: If you stay here and treat Danny differently - or show disrespect to anybody on this team for who they are, you’re done. I will personally do what I can to keep you out of league if that’s the case. So those are your choices. Stay and treat everyone here as a member of this team, or leave without a fuss.”
There was an awful silence again, where Nick tried to keep his face calm and professional like Seamus and Wilco were somehow doing. He felt his heart hammering, and he felt momentarily worried about passing out. It wasn’t for him, it was for Danny - just intense anxiety to see how the team would react, who this would matter to. The silence stretched again, until finally Lunker broke it.
“Fuck Harry,” he said loudly, and Nick looked over in relief. Around him, guys were looking, a few nodding. Lunker was one of the quieter lads on the team, so it was especially gratifying that he was the first one to speak up. “Danny’s a goddamn gem. He’s an amazing player and person. I don’t give a fuck who he fucks,” he added, and there was a ripple of subdued laughter across the room, a lot of guys now nodding. “I just give a fuck if anyone fucks with him.”
“Fucking right,” barked Seamus.
There was a chorus of agreement, various team members speaking up and saying that Danny was part of the team, that anyone who disagreed wasn’t, that Harry could go fuck himself. One sub spoke up, saying that maybe Harry didn’t know that anyone on the team was gay, so maybe what he said wasn’t that bad since Harry didn’t know that it was going to personally offend anyone.
There was a burst of loud disagreement at that, Nick finally interjecting and making eye contact with the sub, Adam. “You ever been furious at a ref?” he asked Adam. “At another player?”
“Yeah…?” said Adam, looking back at Nick.
“And you’ve never used that word, have you? Any slur? If that’s your natural inclination - to use a word like that when you’re pissed - that’s a person I don’t want on the team.”
“Yes,” said Will. “That’s not a person I want to be around, either.”
There was another round of loud agreement, all of the lads now turning in their seats and talking to each other, everyone seeming to find a new energy with each other after a shitty week of training. The guys were talking about calling Danny, or texting James to see how Danny was doing, everyone assuming that he’d gone to support Danny.
“Lads! Oi, lads,” called Wilco, quieting everyone. “Good. Glad we’re all one team.” He nodded appreciatively, the team looking back with determined, focused faces. “Coach will call Danny right now, and the captains will head to his place in a minute. Tell him we love him - with no exceptions. See you lads tomorrow at training.”
There was a new sense in the video room, one of renewed camaraderie and connection. As the lads broke into conversation again, Wilco turned to Seamus and Nick. “Sorry to speak for you boys. You coming?”
“Yes,” said Nick.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Seamus.
“Then let’s go,” said Wilco with another firm nod that settled Nick’s shaky feeling at least a little. This was their team, and they were going to support their player. That was all that mattered.
-
They got to Danny’s house and rang the bell. Nick’s heart was hammering in his throat. He had the sudden fear that Danny would associate them with Harry, think that they were like him and thought those same things, when nothing was further from the truth. Nick was rattled - it was like his whole world perspective had been shifted slightly off-kilter - but that was his own shit and his own reaction, not Danny’s to manage. To Danny, all Nick wanted to project was acceptance and love and being there. The three of them stood, silently waiting, when James swung open the door.
James’s eyebrows contracted and looked at all of them, his hand white-knuckled on the door and his jaw tight. Wilco stepped forward and looked James directly in the eye. “James. Can we talk to Danny? Is he here?”
James silently swung the door open a little wider to reveal Danny coming down the hall, pulling on a shirt as he walked, his hair dishevelled. He stood next to James in the doorway, his eyes looking wary as he took in the sight of his captains on his doorstep in front of him, like he was trying to gauge what they felt or thought. Nick hated that he even had to wonder that.
“Hey, mate,” said Wilco, looking now at Danny. “Croftie said he was going to call you right away - did you hear from him?”
“Yeah,” said Danny in a hoarse voice. “He called a bit ago. Spoke to him. Said that Harry was gone. And that you lot were…” He trailed off, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “That you were alright with me.”
There was a half a moment before Wilco stepped forward and enveloped Danny in a crushing hug. Danny’s arms froze for a moment in surprise, his fists clenched and tensed before he opened his fingers and hugged Wilco back fiercely. Nick watched, his chest hurting. It was just so much; so much had happened today. James was looking on, too, his face reflecting a combination of things, his eyes darting between Danny and Wilco’s hug and Nick and Seamus’s faces.
Wilco stepped back and looked at Nick and Seamus, nodding at them before looking back at Danny. “The entire team loves you, Danny. And we support you. Harry’s off the team: everyone agreed that someone like that isn’t welcome in our changing room. He’s not one of us.”
Danny snorted. “I mean…if someone had to go. If that dill’s brains were wings he’d have the flight capabilities of a kiwi.”
Wilco gave a huffing half-laugh, then sobered. He pointed to Danny, tapping him once on his chest. “He’s not part of this team any more. But you are. You’re part of the heart and soul of this team, Danny. And literally nothing about you could change that.”
Danny blinked rapidly, and Nick could see his throat working as he swallowed. James looked frozen, his eyebrows drawn together like he was confused, and Nick wondered again what James had known.
“Everyone feels like that, mate,” added Seamus, and Nick nodded, too. He felt like his tongue was stuck; he vehemently agreed with everything Wilco and Seamus were saying but this whole…situation felt so intense. Nick felt like he was vibrating and buzzing, everything a little too loud. “We care about you, mate, but we don’t give a fuck about who you date. As long as they don’t suck.”
Danny grinned, and Nick felt immeasurably relieved seeing a piece of the old Danny returning, enough to knock him back into his body. “Seriously, Danny,” Nick said. “We have your back.”
Danny looked at Nick and nodded slowly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “This…fuck. Thanks, mates. You don’t know how long…” he stopped himself, then looked at them and smiled. “Fucking Badgers, mates. Cheeky, brilliant cunts, the lot of you.”
Nick grinned and Seamus laughed. Wilco had a little smile on too, but he sobered quickly. “And Danny - it’s not just you, you know that, right? We all love you, of course, but the same goes for any lad on this team. Every single person on this team is a member of this team, no matter who they date. So it’s not just you. It’s anyone who’s gay.”
Danny smiled. “Pan, actually.”
Wilco nodded appreciatively, though inclined his head curiously for Danny to go on. “Pan?”
“Pansexual,” said Danny. “Just love the whole lot of everyone - men, women, everyone else - fuck the binary, you know what I mean?”
Seamus laughed. “Fuck, that is so you-coded, Turner,” and Danny laughed too, Nick joining in. Nick was baffled by this whole idea - the Danny he had known for ages dated women. And maybe men too? And, like… who else? That was…Nick’s mind was still reeling. It didn’t change how he felt about Danny at all, but it still felt a little boggling to think about.
“A little in love with everyone,” admitted Danny with a grin. “But…fuck. Yeah. Thanks, Captain. That - that’s good to hear.” He gave a little involuntary movement of his head to look behind him, where James still stood, but snapped back and looked at the three of them again.
“Good,” said Wilco. “And we mean that. It’s not just you, Danny. Anyone who’s…not straight,” he said, Danny nodding with an approving grin. “It makes no difference to us.”
‘Like…” James’s voice faltered, and Nick looked up in surprise; James hadn’t spoken at all yet before this. “Like…me.”
If Nick had been reeling before, now he was staggered. Danny and James? Danny was gaping at James and Seamus looked just as surprised as Nick was, his head tilted questioningly, but Wilco just nodded again. “Yeah?” he said simply.
“Yeah,” said James, and he looked at Danny, whose entire body was turned to look at James, his face a mixture of shock and happiness and amazement. “I’m…” he took a breath, closing his eyes and then opening them again. “I’m gay.”
“And we love you,” said Wilco approvingly, brushing past Danny to wrap James in a hug this time, Nick still feeling astounded. Danny and James. Danny and James? God, did Danny know? Had James also known about Danny, then? Were they possibly dating? Nick scolded himself as soon as the thought entered his mind - Amy had once tutted at him for assuming that all Canadians knew each other and said it was akin to thinking that two people were dating just because they were both gay. Or…not straight? Nick was still puzzling over the idea of Danny being pansexual. He had to Google that as soon as he got home; he knew nothing of it.
Wilco released James, and he stepped next to Danny, shoulder to shoulder. James took a shuddering breath and Nick watched as he slid his hand into Danny’s, Danny’s face contorting as it looked like he tried to fight down a massive, shocked smile. “I’m…and Danny and I…we’ve…” He looked at Danny, and Danny looked back at him, no longer trying to fight the smile, his whole face breaking open with joy.
“Walkie,” Danny breathed, his face completely aglow. Nick had never seen a person look at another person like that before, and it was so intense that he almost felt embarrassed.
James looked back at Danny, his eyes equally bright, then back at the rest of them. He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to. Wilco nodded again, a nod that seemed to give acknowledgement and support for whatever Danny and James were, and jerked his head to indicate that it was time for he, Nick, and Seamus to leave.
“See you at training tomorrow?” Wilco called over his shoulder, Danny and James still holding hands and now slightly facing each other, Danny looking as though his life had won the lottery.
“Yeah,” said Danny, snapping out of it for a moment, James nodding too. “Team training tomorrow.”
Wilco, Seamus, and Nick all left, and Nick said a quick goodbye to go back to his car. He was feeling so, so many things. It felt like his skin was going to burst. Nick was gratified and thankful for the team and relieved for Danny and so filled with love and so incredibly confused. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but honestly…he didn’t even know the exact questions. And beyond that, he knew this was not about him. This was about Danny. And James, too, now. Danny and James. Nick knew they’d be close for years. Had they - dated? It seemed like they were something now at least. It made Nick both really happy and shell-shocked. Not about them specifically, but about the idea that something could be happening so close to him that he had no idea about.
It was so stupid, but Nick’s mind was fixated on Danny, trying to make sense of it. James was gay, he had told them. And like - that made sense. James liked men, wanted to date men, had crushes on men. Nick got that. But like…Nick had always seen Danny dating women, and he clearly liked women. It was still so mind-boggling to think that Danny just also liked men, too. It wasn’t like he had switched to all liking men. He just liked…both. That was…that was something to think about.
-
And, to a degree…that had been that. The next day at training, everyone welcomed them warmly. James briefly spoke and said he was gay, there were nods and shoulder claps, and then moved on after, as they had all agreed they would on a team message. The only changes were the empty space in front of Harry’s stall, and the fact that Danny and James were back to sitting next to each other before and after training, after a few weeks where they had sat separately, when they had been having some sort of disagreement, Nick had thought.
From then on, Danny and James were dating, and the team knew, and everything was…the same. For the first few months, there was no indication that they were together to an observer, and it took a while for any PDA to show up during team events, James showing remarkable restraint in succumbing to Danny’s proclivity for the inappropriate. And once they finally did, slowly and by tiny degrees, no one had any issue. They were all good.
And Nick was good, too. He was happy for Danny and James and honestly relieved to have Harry off the team. He also loved their new teammate, Walker Ridley, who everyone called Tex. He was happy and fun and formed an alliance with Nick and Danny to tell puns, which Nick was delighted by. But at the same time, he was also tied in knots for weeks after everything happened. Nick wanted to understand. He was still so confused about Danny in particular. Dating men and women and all genders - Nick knew he was being dense, but he was struggling to wrap his mind around it.
In secondary school, bisexuality was a joke. It was “the last stop on the train to lesbian-town” for girls, and definitely not a thing for guys. Nick wasn’t even sure he heard rumours of any guys being bisexual in secondary, only gay. It was a binary: you liked boys, or you liked girls. You were a boy who liked boys - gay - or a girl who liked girls - lesbian - or a girl who said she liked girls and boys but that wasn’t really true. Distantly Nick knew that of course wasn’t true, but honestly, that had been his only experience with bisexuality. And then he’d gone to a Premiership academy and there hadn’t been any talk of anything like that, except some of the younger guys throwing around gay jokes or calling each other gay, an infuriating annoyance that fortunately mostly disappeared once Nick was called up to a Senior team.
But even those jokes - or homophobia, as Nick now knew it to be - were still jokes about being gay. Nick racked his brain on the drive home from Danny’s that day and tried to think of if he’d ever been in a discussion about bisexuality or pansexuality or met someone who was openly bisexual or pan. That was probably influenced by his career and life, though: he was in professional sports. Nick’s friends were great people, and laddish, too. Their group talked about sports and drinking and other things too, but conversations about the nuance of sexuality had not really been part of their culture.
For the next few weeks as Nick Googled things about bisexuality and pansexuality, he wanted to ask Danny a million questions. How did Danny know that he liked boys - or, men, rather - instead of just women? Like, Nick figured most boys either liked girls or boys to start, when they were discovering their sexuality in their teens. How did you figure out if you also liked…the other ones? Like, how did bisexual people sort out if they were friends with someone of the same gender, the one that they thought they weren’t attracted to or wanted to be, like…more than friends? Nick had some friends who he’d been closer to before or felt more strongly than he did about others or elicited more, like…excitement when he heard from them. How did people who were bisexual or pansexual tease that out? How did they know that they liked liked that person, to use a term from Nick’s late primary school days?
Nick so desperately wanted to ask Danny about this and more. How did he know? How did he date women and also realise he liked men, too? When did he realise that? What was the big light switch moment that made it clear for him? Nick had to assume there was a singular moment where everything made sense…right? And what did it look like to like a man more than a friend, because clearly Danny was friends with lads, too. How did he know who was a friend and who he liked more than a friend? There were so many questions spinning in Nick’s brain that he never even felt like he could pin down one to start with.
But there was no fucking way Nick was going to ask Danny that. Not only because that felt intrusive and too personal and probably super inappropriate, but also because Danny and James were dealing with a lot. Harry had been traded as no one was all right with him being on the team anymore, including Harry, who it had turned out (to no one’s surprise) did have a problem with Danny’s sexuality. During the media rush about his unexpected trade, Harry dropped hints that there was a member of the Badgers who he “didn’t feel comfortable sharing a changing room with anymore,” accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a sneering nod.
The team had been fucking furious, and it had taken firm conversations from Croft, Wilco, and the team lawyers to make sure nothing happened in retaliation. There were endless queries and speculation from the media that the team met with a unified wall of silence, which everyone was of course happy to maintain. However, Danny and James had made the call just a few weeks later to come out as a couple, using a promotional team video where them announcing themselves as a couple was a side note, not the focus. The team then followed their lead for the rest of the season, not ever denying anything but also ignoring any questions about the two of them as a couple, always directing it back to rugby or to be about the team in general after expressing support of Danny, James, and everyone on the team.
And even if that hadn’t happened, Nick still wouldn’t have asked Danny. That was prying and too much and selfish. Nick settled for Google, though he quickly became overwhelmed by the barrage of results and loud internet opinions and gave up on that particular search, settling for mulling the questions over in his mind for a few weeks, still feeling distinctly unsettled.
The week after Danny and James had come out, though, Imogen had brought in a PR contractor named Marla to help the team chart the communications course that best upheld the dignity of the players, especially Danny and James. Nick and the other captains ended up spending a lot of time with her as they figured out the media strategy. Marla was intelligent and kind and thoughtful, and after another couple months, Nick had asked her on a date, which she accepted. Then they had started dating, and Nick’s questions quietly slipped away.
Things made sense when he was with Marla. For three and a half - nearly four years - things had made sense, even if he wasn’t that “romance film” kind of in love with Marla. She was all of those things he first noticed - intelligent and kind and all that - and they were comfortable. Nick was doing exactly what made sense; he was dating someone and their relationship fit in the worlds that they inhabited, and he assumed that they’d continue the course - date, maybe get married, maybe have kids. Do what he’d always assumed he’d do since he was a kid. When they’d broken up eight or so months ago now, Nick knew it had been for the best. It had been hard too of course when things ended - really hard. She had been a person that he’d spent so much time around and knew so well, and then everything changed. But even after they broke up, things still…made sense. Nick had simply had a girlfriend who didn’t work out, and eventually he’d meet someone else and have another girlfriend, and then do all of those things - dating, marriage, kids.
But now, late on Sunday night, nothing made sense. Nick hadn’t really slept the night before, and only caught Charlie for a quick goodbye and a hug that he kept determinedly brief before Charlie had to leave. Nick had been a robot throughout his morning chores, giving mechanical smiles to the guests and completing tasks like he was following a set of listed instructions. Cook breakfast. Plate breakfast. Bring plates to table. Listen to compliment. Respond with nice words. Go back to kitchen.
Nick had been down in the barn, closing his eyes against a sweep of regret as he climbed the hayloft ladder past the sheet-covered drum set. He’d…he’d bought that for Charlie. And he didn’t regret doing that, but he regretted what that - what that meant. Nick had been in the hayloft staring at nothing and thinking of Charlie - god, always Charlie - and then been struck by the memory of Danny and James that day in the changing room. It was still so visceral, as was his confusion afterwards.
Nick still remembered how his body had felt then, thinking about all of those questions that he’d wanted to ask Danny. Nick had sat with all of those questions that had prickled at and burrowed in him, and the only way he could think to describe it was thinking of a tangled knot inside him, strings connected to his skin that pulled into a complex, gnarled confusion inside of his chest. It made his skin feel too tight; made him feel constricted, like he was somehow shrunk in on himself, like he couldn’t stand up perfectly straight, or take up the amount of space that his body wanted to.
Thinking back to that day and the weeks that followed, Nick felt that same tugging, snarled-feeling tightness within him. He had thought about Danny and James and that stretch of time all day, even when the guests had finally left and the house had emptied out and it was just Nick. Nick wandered through the house, trying to distract himself however he could. Even the messages from Charlie, the ones that made him smile when he opened his phone, even those couldn’t shake the unsettled, anxious feeling in his chest. All day, there had been things that lapped at the edges of his memory and consciousness like waves. Memories, thoughts, wonders. Nick had kept them at bay as long as he could, stubbornly filling his brain with as much noise and busyness as he could.
He knew there were feelings coming up for him, feelings that tugged at that tight place in his chest, the knotted and tangled part. But the idea of feeling seemed like too much right now, too hard to do alone. So Nick decided that knowing would at least feel better, and he opened up his laptop to a Google search, then sat in intimidated immobility for a moment. He didn’t know how to figure this out; he didn’t even know what to search for. Nick squeezed his eyes shut hard and then opened them, his fingers hesitating over the keys. He took a deep breath, and started typing.
-
An hour and a half later, Nick was staring at a rainbow flag on his computer screen, its bright colours and cheerful proclamation that Nick was, “62% homosexual” mocking him. He was on fucking Buzzfeed of all places; he had found this stupid quiz nestled between clickbait articles about Offset explaining how Cardi B helped him stop using codeine and 32 bra-friendly pieces of clothing for the summer. Nick was fucking thirty-one years old and he was taking a fucking quiz on fucking Buzzfeed to find out what he was. Who he was? God, Nick thought this stupid “figuring yourself out” shit had ended at, like, 22. What the fuck was happening to him?
Nick’s indignant annoyance with himself faded as he looked back at the screen, the number looking back jarring him more than he thought possible. 62% homosexual - like…that was a number. A quantification that Nick wasn’t who he thought he was; an “allocishet” ally (a term Tex had taught him). He was…this. He was…something. Not something he was ashamed of or thought he’d be disowned for, but something - or rather - someone that he didn’t even know. How could he be at this point in his life and not have…
Fuck.
Nick closed the Buzzfeed tab like he couldn’t look at it a moment longer and that dropped him back on the Google page where he’d been furiously trying to find out who he was. He clicked on the search bar and Google helpfully showed him his history of search terms from the last ninety minutes.
straight man but now feelings for man
can you be straight but still like a man if man
how do you know if you might not be straight
always dated women as man now like man but still women
am i gay
is bisexuality real
how to know if you are bisexual
can you like a man and still be straight
am i bi
how can you not realise you’re gay for a long time
i think im not straight what do i do
please just tell me what i am gay or not
How could he…how could he not realise? Nick closed his laptop harder than he intended and laid down on the couch, pressing his head in between where the arm and the back of the couch connected, trying to squeeze himself into the tightest ball possible to get some goddamn comfort. Here he was, laying on the couch in his living room late on Sunday night (or god, maybe technically Monday morning at this point?) with his phone and computer and technology out of his hands, and the apple pie bars he’d avoidance-baked abandoned on the coffee table. Nick stared at the ceiling and tried to clear his mind like his stupid pedantic meditation app told him to do. Clear his mind. Thinks of thoughts like leaves on a stream, drifting off and taking Nick’s thoughts gently with them. Let the thoughts go, let them off.
A stream…
Nick remembered walking with Rhys once home from school. They’d cut through a park and stopped by a stream, just messing about. Nick had realised even at the time that they were probably too old for playing around in a park, tossing stones and playfully acting like they were going to push the other in, but it had been nice. It had been one of the most fun afternoons of that year, actually, just a rare afternoon of the two of them getting to hang out. Nick had thought about that afternoon for weeks afterward. It was one of those shared memories that Nick had wanted to reminisce on with Rhys, but he’d felt weirdly shy about bringing it up. What if Rhys thought Nick was weird, or clingy, or…something else. But Nick felt tingly and shivery thinking back to that day, the memories of just the two of them making his stomach twist up pleasurably despite his agitated state. Rhys. Nick remembered him.
Nick remembered other things, too.
Memories were hitting Nick like a train. Memories of those moments with Rhys. Memories of a teammate on Sale, a scrum-half named Ethan. Nick and Ethan had played well together, and they had often spent extra time together training outside of the team, too. When Nick had been traded to the Badgers, he had been sad to leave the team, but it was even harder thinking of saying goodbye to certain teammates, like Ethan. Ethan was clearly disappointed to see Nick go, but Nick remembered feeling hurt that Ethan wasn’t, like…devastated. And that was strange, right? Nick shouldn’t want his friend to be devastated. But Nick had wanted Ethan to be sadder than he was. Nick had thought about Ethan for weeks after he left, and remembered feeling distinctly huffy about how happy and friendly Ethan’s messages were. Nick had wanted some moroseness; had wanted Ethan to be as lonely as Nick was feeling for those first few weeks when Nick had moved to Leeds.
There were other moments too. A dizzy stir in a gay club with Danny and James when Nick had been hit on. Pleasant but confusing feelings during movies that Nick had dismissed. Careful scrutiny of pictures of other athletes, Nick telling himself he was comparing his body to theirs. A tiny disappointment when a specific barista wasn’t working on a morning when he went in. Moments that Nick had experienced and ignored and suppressed and waved off. He’d been with Marla, he’d been with other girlfriends, he’d been too busy with rugby. Reasons, reasons, reasons. There had been nothing that had truly shaken him to his core like the Danny and James thing, something that made his entire world shudder and rattle and land on a new axis.
Not until Charlie.
Charlie. Charlie. Oh god. It was all…Charlie. Charlie had awoken something in Nick. He had cracked open Nick in some way that Nick couldn’t explain. Nick had never felt this raw, this alive, this intense. Nick felt so, so strongly about Charlie. He’d known that he felt a connection to Charlie that was deep and rare for him; one that usually took a long time to build. Nick had assumed that it was friendship, that same easy and meaningful friendship he had with people like Amy and Danny and Seamus and all of them. But god, last night…
Last night Nick had felt like he’d been struck by lightning, his whole body electric and crackling. Holding Charlie was intense, and comforting, and scary, and perfect. In those moments last night, Nick knew nothing and felt everything. Nick had tried to know his way out of this. He had gone to his computer and tried to fit it all neatly into some box in his brain, but it wasn’t working. This was all so new and so scary and the fact that Charlie was mixed up in this made Nick feel unspeakably anxious. He cared about Charlie so, so much. Nick didn’t want his own panic and his own shit impacting Charlie at all. He had to figure this out before Charlie got back Tuesday, he had to. But Nick couldn’t…he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. His breath was picking up and his heart was racing.
Nick unlocked his phone and went to his Favourites, eyes brimming. He tapped the contact and waited for an answer, his breath shallow and catching. He couldn’t do this alone; he couldn’t. It was too big; it was too big to deal with and realise that he had no idea who he was, at over thirty fucking years old. God, please be awake, please, Nick silently begged. Please, please, please.
Finally: “Nick?”
Nick took a deep, shuddering breath, and burst into tears.
Notes:
I know. You're a little annoyed with me at the ending. I will make it better soon...
Also, here is some food porn in the mean time.
Apple Pie Bars
Crust ingredients:
1 c all-purpose flour
½ c oats
⅓ c brown sugar
½ tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
7 Tbsp cold unsalted butter sliced into tablespoons
2 Tbsp cold waterPut the dry ingredients into a food processor or a large bowl. Process/pulse or use a pastry blender to combine. Add in the butter one tablespoon at a time, mixing until it’s crumbly. If you are using a pastry blender, add all the butter at once and mix until crumbly. Slowly add the water and pulse/mix until the mixture comes together. Set aside ¾ of the dough. Line an 8x8 inch pan with parchment paper and press the remaining ¼ of the dough into the bottom of the pan and set aside.
Filling ingredients:
2 c sliced apples (about 4)
1 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp cornstarch
¼ t nutmeg
3 Tbsp brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
½ c walnuts, finely choppedMix the cornstarch, nutmeg, and brown sugar in a bowl. Toss the apples with the lemon juice and then toss with the dry mix. Put the tossed apples in a small pan and cook over medium heat until the apples are soft. Remove from the heat and put in a bowl, add vanilla.
While the apples cool, preheat the oven to 350 F. Mix the walnuts in with the ¾ of the dough, re-crumbling it all again. Pour the apples onto the crust in the bottom of the pan, and then top with crumbles of the walnut/crust mix. Bake for 35 - 40 minutes until golden brown. Let cool completely before lifting the parchment paper out of the pan and cutting into bars.
Chapter 12: Process
Summary:
Last time: Nick's memories of Danny and James coming out sparked an avalanche of other memories.
This time: Nick calls a friend for support. Charlie comes back for another week at Lavender Fields.
Notes:
A bounty of boundless beta hugs (that are just a little bit too long a la Nick Nelson) to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. These humans are such a lovely and meaningful part of my life now and consistently make these chapters so much better (and dirtier with their "suggestions" on the Google docs that make me LOL).
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excepts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick tried to get something out, but his breath was coming too fast, feeling like it was threatening to smother him but at the same time feeling like he couldn’t get any air into his lungs.
“Nick?” Amy asked again, her voice a little fuzzy. “Is that you? Are you okay, babes?”
Nick heard a distinctly male grumble in the background and that anomaly shifted his brain enough where he was able to control his breathing at least a little. “Is - are you home?” he asked, his voice a croak.
“Yeah,” said Amy, the sleep still evident in her voice.
“Who’s there then?”
“I had a date last night; it went well and he stayed over,” said Amy dismissively, sounding like she was getting up, presumably out of bed. Out of bed with a man. Because Amy dated men. She knew who she was attracted to. She knew who she was. She wasn’t having a breakdown in her thirties.
Nick took a shaky breath in, trying to control himself. “Sorry, I know you have to work tomorrow, I shouldn’t have called, but I…” Nick tried to say something but his voice caught on the tightness in his throat and the panicky feeling rising again in his chest. He started to cry again, feeling now both lost and infantile, but utterly unable to control his tears.
“Oh, Nick,” said Amy, her voice now gentle and fully alert. “What’s going on, love?”
The tenderness in her tone fully pushed Nick over the edge and he let out a strangled cry, not even trying to fight it now. He gripped the phone and curled in on himself, Amy murmuring that it was alright, it was okay, Nick. After a minute or two, he started to gather himself back under control, taking a few sniffling breaths that made him feel pathetic.
After a few moments, Amy spoke again, this time guiding the conversation. “Are you physically safe right now, Nick?” She was using the same calm, authoritative voice Nick had heard her use when players came in with an injury. It was meant to settle a spooked player; let them know that someone was in charge and taking care of them. God, Nick was so grateful for that voice right now; he needed to call someone who’d be able to take charge.
Nick swallowed. “Yes.”
“Good,” said Amy, and Nick could picture her nodding. “Is your mum physically safe?”
“Yes,” Nick said again. He wiped his nose with his jumper sleeve. “No one’s hurt. Everyone is okay. I’m just…I don’t know what to do, Amy.” Nick took another shaky inhale. “I’m…it’s…I can’t - I don’t know what to do.”
“About what, babe?” said Amy gently.
“I - it’s…I think I’m…” Nick tried, and he couldn’t. What was he supposed to say? I don’t know who or what I am anymore? I’m figuring out who I am after thirty one years of thinking I knew who I was? I have so, so many questions that I don’t know how to ask? I’m falling for someone harder than I ever have in my life, and they’re a man? His breath, which felt like it had just settled, spiked again, now coming in fast, shallow pants. “Amy, I can’t - I can’t…I feel like I’m not even breathing right - I don’t know how…I…” He broke off, even more panicked by the high-pitched sound he could hear when he took in air.
“You’re having a panic attack, I think, Nick,” said Amy, her voice both warm and firm in a way that reassured Nick. Amy knew what was happening. “Let’s breathe together, okay? We’re going to breathe in for three, then out for four. It’s going to be hard, and I know you can do it with me, okay? Eight breaths like this.”
Nick struggled at first but was able to match her pattern, Amy eventually slowing their breath down to even slower counts. She talked Nick through naming things he could see, feel, hear, smell, and taste. She had him tense all his muscles and then relax them over and over until he could tell her that he was back in his body.
“Thank you,” said Nick, his breath not back to normal, but more even than it had been a few minutes before.
“Can you tell me what’s happening, Nick?” asked Amy.
Nick closed his eyes, squeezing them shut so hard that he saw glittery spots in the blackness. “It’s…” He steeled himself. This was going to be hard to say for the first time. But it was harder to keep trapped inside of him, now that this feeling had come roaring through his chest. “It was - it’s because of Charlie,” he said. Charlie. Even saying his name…
“Is he-”
“No, no, he’s fine,” said Nick quickly. “We watched a movie. And he played the drums earlier. And then - then we hugged.” Nick knew that probably sounded inane; like he was talking about nonsense. But he had to get it out somehow, as ugly and bumbling and imperfectly as it was falling out of his mouth. “I hugged him. We were watching a movie - and I saw his hand. And god, Amy - I’m feeling all of these things. About - Charlie,” he said, his name falling softly out of Nick’s mouth. Amy was still there, not saying anything, letting Nick ramble. “And, like - I’m straight. Or I’ve always been straight. I’ve always thought I was straight. But now - with Charlie - with him, I…” Nick swallowed. “I feel the way about Charlie like I’ve felt…” He stopped again, his brain feeling like it was staggering in jerky steps, not able to move smoothly. “I - what if I like guys as well as women? Is that what this is? What if I - what if I have…like - feelings for Charlie?”
“Well, then that would mean you had a crush on Charlie. Or liked Charlie.” Amy still sounded kind, but back a bit to her no-nonsense self, like she was after she’d talked a player off the ledge and was telling them the next steps in healing.
“But what am I, Amy? What does this make me? I’ve been one thing for-fucking-ever, and now I’m this new thing and I don’t even know what that thing is, and-”
Amy cut him off. “Let’s start here, Nick. Have you liked women before? Like, wanted to be in relationships and be physical with women?”
“Yes,” said Nick. She knew that, and that was true. He had felt like that about Marla, and other girlfriends. He saw women in movies and on the street and in pictures online and felt attraction and everything like that. Nick was attracted to women, and that wasn’t gone.
“Well, what about men?”
“I-” Nick broke off, feeling stuck again. “I…I don’t - I’m…”
Amy spoke again, softer again this time. “What about just Charlie?” she asked. “Let yourself just think about Charlie for a moment, with no label or worry about what it means. I know that’s hard to do, but just give it a try. Could you imagine, like, holding Charlie’s hand? Or wanting to?”
“Yes,” said Nick in a ragged voice. He could; he could imagine holding Charlie’s hand so badly it made his body ache.
“Okay,” said Amy calmly. “Could you imagine kissing Charlie?”
Nick felt a lurch of something. Not disgust or guilt, but a world-altering lurch, where he felt with a start the idea that he could imagine kissing Charlie. He could picture Charlie’s face, his lips. His dimples. The gentle look on Charlie’s face when he smiled at Nick in the truck. It was rattling to consider that it…didn’t feel scary. Terrifyingly thrilling, yes - like standing on the edge of a high rock, about to jump off into the water below. But a spot where the water was deep enough to be safe - a stomach-swooping possibility, but one where he’d be okay.
“Yes,” whispered Nick. Yes, he could imagine kissing Charlie.
“Well,” said Amy, making the word sound like a sentence. “Then there you are.”
“What?” asked Nick, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice, trying not to demand Amy tell him what he was. Who he was.
“You’re a man who likes women and also likes Charlie,” she said. “That’s what you are right now.”
“I like Charlie?” Nick was trying mightily to catch up. First thinking back to Danny and James, and then fucking Buzzfeed, now the idea that he liked Charlie… He didn’t even know what he was, how the fuck could he know if he liked someone?
“Maybe you’re a mostly-straight-but-also-attracted-to-Charlie-because-he’s-amazing, Nick,” said Amy. “Or maybe you’re pan like Danny. Or maybe you’re bisexual. Any of those could be true - but at the end of the day, you’re having feelings for Charlie, right?”
Nick struggled in silence for a minute, but he realised he was fighting an answer that he already knew, instinctively knew. “Yes,” said Nick. Even saying that - it felt…he wanted to say more. “I - I do. I have feelings for Charlie.” He felt his throat tighten unexpectedly. Saying those words out loud…saying that loosened that knotted miasma in his chest, even the tiniest amount. “Oh my god, I like Charlie.” He paused, staggered. “Oh,” he said, dropping phone onto the bed and pushing his hands hard against his face. “Oh. Oh my god, I like Charlie,” murmured Nick, the words muffled against his hands. He dropped his hands and picked the phone back up. “And how - how did I not…how could I have not realised this? God, I’m a fucking idiot.”
“First of all, you do not speak to my friend like that,” said Amy firmly.
“Well, your friend is a bit of an idiot right now and I am not super fond of him at the moment-”
“You might not like him, but I do,” said Amy, and Nick felt the wave of angry love coming from her like a warm pulse of light even through the phone, even through his muddled darkness.
Nick just groaned and leaned back against the bed, not knowing what to say, how to process.
“Think about it, Nick,” urged Amy. “Your whole life you were kind of, like, expected to be straight, right?” Nick made a noise of half-assent, half-question, and Amy pressed on. “Like, I bet when you were young people made jokes like asking your mum if you had a girlfriend at school, or you, like, played house with a neighbour and there was a mum and a dad. Or your parents made comments like, ‘When you get married, you better do whatever for your future wife’ - stuff like that, right?”
“Yeah,” said Nick. Of course there had been stuff like that, but it had just been - normal. It never even crossed his brain that there would have been other conversations.
“And then in, what, primary or early secondary school, you started liking girls, yeah?”
Nick half-smiled to himself, thinking back to his Year 8 kiss with Tara Jones, which had been the talk of the schoolyard for weeks afterwards; they had been the It Couple for the entirety of their two-week, note-passing relationship. “Yeah,” he said again.
“Your brain had these neat boxes,” said Amy. “And everything in your world was either designed to fit in those boxes, or just naturally fit in them. Boys dated girls, or maybe they dated guys, and that was a separate box. Am I right so far?”
Amy was so fucking right. She was putting words to some of the anxieties that had been swirling in Nick’s chest since Saturday night. “Yes,” he said, nodding like Amy could see him.
“Everything told you you were straight,” said Amy. “All the movies you probably watched, all of the conversations you had, all of the assumptions people made about you. And like - when you are told one thing forever, it takes something pretty intense to change what you think is possible.” She wasn’t saying it, but Amy was intimating that what Nick felt for Charlie was strong. Strong enough to wobble Nick’s world off its axis; strong enough to send the neat boxes that Nick’s brain had made tumbling into a messy pile that no longer made any sense. Or maybe Amy wasn’t saying that - maybe Nick was just realising that. “Your brain has to work hard to catch up with your heart when it’s been told one thing your whole life, babes,” said Amy gently.
Nick went to respond and found that he couldn’t, his breath catching again and his throat feeling tight once more, choked with emotion. He took a few long, shaky breaths. “Fuck, Ames,” he finally got out, looking up once again and blinking until the wave passed. “How do you know so much about all of this?”
“I’m a genius,” said Amy faux-earnestly, and Nick managed a laugh. “Well, that, and I’ve learned so much from Danny and James, too. Danny especially, you know?” Nick felt his heart quicken a little, reeling back to the memories of Danny and James that had spiralled tightly through his brain for the last few days. “You know I will always be here to talk about all of this with you, Nick,” said Amy warmly. “But babes, speaking of - we have some incredible queer people in our lives. Why not talk to them? I feel like Danny in particular - he’s attracted to a whole spectrum of people, you can talk to him about what he-”
“No,” said Nick emphatically, his heart rate immediately spiking back up.
“No?” asked Amy, and Nick could hear the confusion in her voice.
“No,” said Nick again, shaking his head like Amy could see him. “I - I can’t. I’m not - Danny and James are real - I’m not…I’m not real, Amy. And it’s not - they don’t have to, like sort me out! That’s not Danny’s job that he has to do, to figure me out…” Nick broke off, his breathing rapid again.
Amy sounded like she was trying to catch up. “You’re - not real?” she repeated.
“Like - James is actually gay,” said Nick, his voice louder than he intended. “And Danny’s actually pan. And I’m just…I’m just this idiot who doesn’t know what he is and doesn't even know what to ask - or how to do…I’m not - I can’t-” Nick broke off, feeling too hot, the tears springing back into his exhausted eyes. He couldn’t talk to Danny about this, not yet. Not when Nick was just this straight, confused idiot who liked Charlie Spring and didn’t know what was happening and didn’t know what he was. He would say the wrong thing, ask the wrong things; Danny would think Nick was just pretending, Danny would know that Nick wasn’t…real.
“Hey, hey,” said Amy soothingly, breaking through Nick’s anxiety-fueled spin. “You don’t have to talk to Danny right now, that’s right, that’s okay, Nick.” She paused, and Nick tried to respond, but he was still too keyed up. “Breathe with me again?” Amy started counting, and Nick battled to match hers, Amy quietly affirming how he was okay, he was breathing, he was safe.
Settled again, Nick let out a long exhale. “Jesus, Amy, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” said Amy, and Nick felt a wave of love for her. “I’m so glad you called me, Nick.”
“Even when it’s - fuck, it’s nearly one am, Amy, I had no idea! Fuck, I shouldn’t have called you, you have to work, and-”
Amy interrupted him. “Hey, have you ever thought about how it’s weird that your nipples are older than your teeth?”
Nick froze, utterly confused. “What?”
“Danny said that to me once when I was freaking out about Caden and it helped me snap out of a spiral, so I figured it would help you, too,” said Amy, and a laugh burst out of Nick, surprising even himself. He could hear the grin in Amy’s voice. “So, did it?”
“Yes, you Canadian freak,” said Nick, closing his eyes and dropping back on the bed, now smiling a little. “It did.”
“And no worries on the late night,” said Amy cheerfully. “Canadians don’t need sleep; it just means I need to inject more pure maple syrup into my veins tomorrow morning.”
Nick smiled. “Thank you, Amy,” he said.
“I’m here for you, Nick,” said Amy authentically. “Literally always.”
“I know that,” said Nick, and he truly did. “Thank you.”
“And Nick,” said Amy gently. “You do not have to talk to Danny - or James - about any of this right now. But listen to me. You are real. Whatever you are feeling for Charlie is real. And whatever that makes you - or doesn’t make you - that’s real, too, okay?”
Nick swallowed hard again and nodded, then remembered she wasn’t there with him. The familiarity of her voice had almost made him believe that she was in the room. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I…yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome love,” said Amy. “Now, okay. Let’s at least process a little of this. First of all - Charlie? Literally impossible not to fall for that guy. Amazing choice, Nelson.”
Nick snorted, then felt the smile spread across his face like honey, soft and slow, thinking of Charlie. “He’s…yeah. He’s - he’s so great, Ames.”
“I know he is; our message thread is legendary,” said Amy.
“You have a message thread with Charlie?!”
“Of course I do,” said Amy, snorting at Nick’s naiveté. “I’m not about to let you keep a funny, interesting gem of a man like Charlie for yourself, you selfish wanker.” Nick laughed again, then felt conscious of his teeth. Fuck, they really were younger than his nipples. That was…disconcerting. “Tell me more, if you’re up for it,” said Amy. “How’d you get here to calling me, Nick? What helped you figure out how you felt?”
Nick took another grounding breath. All of this still felt so intimidating and foreign to talk about, like he was trying on another person’s words. And that got to what he was feeling so nervy about with Danny. Nick knew that what he felt for Charlie was - was real, like Amy said - but he felt like an imposter. Like a straight man who just had feelings for a man and would inadvertently step on an identity that wasn’t really his. Not without knowing what identity he was. He knew he was fixated on this, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t ready to ask the questions he didn’t even know how to ask yet. “God, Ames, it’s been a fucking twenty-four hours…”
Nick spoke for nearly a full hour. He told Amy about the the week, all about the drum set, wincing as he told her how he’d bought the drums and destroyed them, but Amy mercifully just responded with murmurs and small sounds to have him go on, maybe sensing how fragile and pathetic he was about all of this. He told her about watching Charlie play the drums, and watching Charlie’s hands. He told her about the pure joy on Charlie’s face when he saw what Nick had “found”, and how it made Nick’s stomach alternately twist up in pleasure and guilt thinking about the gift. Nick recounted the movie and how desperately he wanted to take Charlie’s hand, how he’d hugged and held Charlie and never wanted to let him go. Nick told Amy about his Sunday of memories - of Danny and James coming out, of Rhys, of Ethan - of baristas, Orlando Bloom, so many things.
Nick wondered aloud over and over how he could have not known that there was something there; that there was something that blemished what had been perfectly smooth, unquestioning heterosexuality. Again and again, Amy reminded him that he had only been taught or considered or let himself experience one view of the world for his thirty-one years, and urged him to remember that it would take time to unlearn those patterns.
Nick let those words go into him and nodded, slowly digesting Amy’s point. “Yeah. It’s really hard to think about things being…different,” said Nick. “It’s…disorienting. But not like - a bad way, I guess. Like - have you ever been on a boat all day?”
“Yeah, plenty,” said Amy.
“You know if you’ve been on a boat all day and then you get off, you still feel that floating up and down?”
“Totally,” said Amy.
“That’s how…like, that’s how I’ve been feeling about Charlie,” said Nick. “Like, he’s here for most of the week, and we spend most of our time together when he’s not working and I’m not doing chores. Then he leaves and it’s like - that feeling. When he’s gone, I have that same feeling where it’s like - I suddenly realise that I have that same disoriented feeling. It’s a thing I don’t notice at all when we’ve been together, but then he leaves and I’m all - unsettled. It’s not a bad feeling. It’s just a reminder that I feel…different? And like, with him, I just feel…normal. Comfortable. I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m explaining it well…”
“No, I get what you’re saying,” said Amy. “I do, really. There are those people who just - knock you off your mooring, you know?”
Nick smiled into the phone. “Thanks for continuing the boat metaphor.”
“Don’t even worry a-boat it,” said Amy.
Nick laughed again, this time a little incredulously. “You hate puns!”
Amy sighed deeply. “Well, I hate sad Nick Nelson more than anything else, so I am debasing myself like this for you. How does that make you feel, you monster?”
“Great,” said Nick, grinning against the phone.
“Typical white man,” grumbled Amy, and Nick smiled again. She paused. “Nick - what are you thinking about Charlie right now?”
Nick wasn’t sure how to respond. “Um - what do you…”
“Not like that,” said Amy, snorting. “I more so mean - is this something you want to talk to him about?”
Nick felt the same panic rise in his chest at the idea of talking to Charlie about…this. “No, fuck - I can’t,” he said. “It’s only been…what, seven weeks? Since his fucking engagement ended? And he’s living with me. I don’t even know what I - there’s too much. I still have so much to figure out, and I don’t want Charlie, to, like, get confused…”
There was a pause before Amy responded, but when she did, it was with a reassuring tone. “I completely get that, Nick,” she said. “And that is entirely okay. Remember, you lived your whole life with your brain being told one thing and it told you one thing. This will all take a little bit, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed.
“How do you feel about seeing him on Tuesday?”
“I’m worried about how, like, weird I might be,” said Nick. “Like that I’ll act all different and strange and, like, aloof or overcompensate or something, you know? And I do not want anything affecting our friendship. But also…”Nick paused, considering, the smile creeping back across his face. “Honestly? I miss him when he’s gone, Ames,” he said. “I just like him being…here. With me.”
Amy made a cooing sound that she clearly tried to swallow back and Nick laughed. “Sorry,” she said, laughing. “That was just so sweet, Nicky.”
“Shut up,” said Nick, the smile fighting back out. God, even now, it was bizarre to be saying this to Amy - about Charlie. About a man. To casually say that he missed a man. Wanted him there with…Nick.
As if she could read his thoughts, Amy spoke again. “You’re allowed to like him, Nick,” she said. “Why don’t you just let yourself live in the ‘like’ this week, yeah? Just let yourself look at Charlie with new eyes. Let yourself feel what you feel, let yourself feel, like, any little swings in your tummy when he does something, you know? Probably when he does anything, knowing you, you unmistakeable sap.”
Nick smiled. “Fuck off.”
Amy laughed. “You know I’m right. And just don’t - don’t force yourself to define anything yet. Just be your wonderful self. Because you are, Nick. Give yourself some grace, okay? You’re allowed to not be straight. You’re allowed to figure this out. You’re allowed to like Charlie.”
Nick closed his eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to let her words settle into his soul. He didn’t know how to tell her how appreciative he was for the support and love - even the sometimes much-needed tough love - that she brought into his life. “Thank you, Amy,” he said simply, trying to put as much feeling into the words as he could.
“Literally always, Nicky,” said Amy again, the smile in her voice. “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in, okay?”
“Thanks, Ames.”
“Love you lots.”
“Love you, too,” said Nick, really meaning it.
They hung up and Nick fell back on the bed, sighing deeply. He felt so much better after talking to Amy. He knew she’d be exactly what she had been: affirming, non-judgemental, supportive, and directive. That was what he wanted. Nick set his phone aside and gazed towards the dark ceiling, thinking about the idea of letting himself like Charlie. He wondered idly what it was about Charlie that he liked - and midway through cataloguing Charlie’s dimples, his smile, his blue eyes, his gentleness, his humour, his intelligence - Nick drifted off to sleep.
-
It was a jarring wakeup just a few hours later when Nick had to rise to take care of the chores. Thank god that there was no one staying at Lavender Fields the night before, so after Nick took care of the girls quickly, he let himself laze around a bit, finally getting to cleaning the rooms that had checked out on Sunday when he was mired in his existential haze. Nick found that he felt better after he had stripped and changed the beds and cleaned the rooms, forgoing the cleaners this time. It felt good to do work, and this time, Nick let himself think about Charlie as he worked. He had a sudden realisation that he had been purposefully throwing himself into being as busy as possible to avoid thinking about Charlie. God, he must have been in such deep denial. And for how fucking long?
As frustrated with himself as Nick was about that, he tried to lean in to what Amy said and just allowed himself to…like Charlie. That included thinking about Charlie and letting himself get excited about the fact that Charlie would be back the following evening. Nick kept feeling swings of excitement and anticipation mingled with nerves about facing Charlie. Would Charlie be weirded out by Nick, now, after that overly long hug that Nick gave him? Would Charlie want to hang out with Nick as much? Despite his swoops of battling emotions, Monday passed fairly quickly, and on Tuesday, Nick came back to his phone after serving breakfast to a series of messages from Charlie.
C. Spring: hi
Nick smiled, even just seeing the single word from Charlie.
C. Spring: okay, so let’s talk more about this when I get there tonight, but i wanted to give you a heads up
Nick’s stomach dropped to his feet as he scanned the message, eyes already searching for the next one, fearing what it might say. Was Charlie’s stay over? Was his new place ready? God, Nick was not prepared for that at all.
C. Spring: i spoke to the flat people and it’s another week at least of work
Nick heaved a huge, silent sigh of relief and let his face relax into a smile. It wasn’t hard to do, reading messages from Charlie, especially when they hinted at Charlie staying longer.
C. Spring: so is it okay if I stay another week? and SERIOUSLY nick
C. Spring: you know it’s serious because i used capital letters
C. Spring: let me know if that if too long or too much, i know i have already been there so much longer than you thought i was going to be originally
C. Spring: i wanted to let you know ahead of time so you can think of a polite way to say no and not have to think of one on the spot when im there in person haha
The last message Charlie sent had been from 47 minutes ago, and Nick felt an anxious twist in his stomach thinking of Charlie sitting there since then, wondering if Nick was thinking of a way to kindly say that no, he didn’t want a funny, kind, smart…attractive man staying with him for more time. Attractive. It felt odd to Nick to let himself actually think that about Charlie. It was another squirmy, pleasant feeling that Nick tried to actively breathe into and let himself feel. But he did feel it, and he felt a tiny sense of relief even just letting himself think that about Charlie, like the tightness in his chest eased even by a degree.
He hurriedly picked up his phone to respond and then typed out and deleted several messages, finally settling on:
nnelson: I don’t know, Charlie, you’ve been SO much trouble staying at LF. Nellie was just complaining that she’s getting TOO many ear-scratches and the portrait people were saying that your soul wasn’t quite the right shape for possessing. I take their feedback seriously.
Nick grinned, pleased with himself, even more pleased when Charlie started typing nearly right away.
C. Spring: omg never mind i will stay in the barn if the portraits have been discussing the dimensions of my soul
C. Spring: if they’re talking about possession, they’re planning possession. this isn’t like when girls say that they might get bangs someday
nnelson: LOL
nnelson: Of course you can stay
nnelson: Honestly, I’m going to be sad when the work is done LOL it’s been so fun!
nnelson: Honestly
nnelson: It’s literally no trouble at all - it’s the quiet season and it’s nice to have you around!
C. Spring: and you’re definitely not just saying that?
C. Spring: uuuuugh i know blah blah blah look at me i’m nick no im not just saying that don’t talk to my friend charlie like that blah blah blah 🙄🙄🙄
nnelson: Legit LOL
nnelson: …
nnelson: (But don’t talk about my friend Charlie like that)
C. Spring: 🙄🙄🙄
nnelson: Haha. No, seriously. And I know repair work and stuff can often go way longer than they originally say, so let’s put this in writing now - you’re welcome to stay as long as the work takes. So don’t ask again, okay? Or else I am raising the pun laugh tax to three times per day.
C. Spring: 🫨you wouldn’t
nnelson: Don’t test me.
C. Spring: lol
C. Spring: okay
C. Spring: god, nick, thank you so much
C. Spring: i need to get back to work but i do really, really appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me. ♥️
C. Spring: see you later today!
Nick ♥️ed Charlie’s message saying that he’d see Nick later and looked at the little heart at the end of Charlie’s message, the symbol making him grin stupidly. He knew it was just a thing that people sent (Danny literally sent strings of ♥️ emojis in nearly every other message), but it felt like something else coming from Charlie. For the first time, Nick had a flash of wonder of if Charlie liked him. He could almost guarantee that Charlie did not - Charlie was fresh off of a breakup and focusing on getting a new flat and figuring out his life. He was probably grateful for Nick’s support (like he said). Hopefully Nick was helping Charlie feel like at least one part of his life (his housing) was settled as he righted everything that had been knocked over by the breakup with the human version of a scratched CD that was B. Hope. Charlie also likely saw Nick as Nick saw himself until literally days ago - as straight. God, that was a lot to think about. It had been such an intense couple of days that Nick wasn’t even ready to go back to that thought, of what he was.
Right now that also didn’t matter. Amy had told him to focus on just…letting himself like Charlie this week. Nick wasn’t going to do anything about it; he didn’t want to make Charlie uncomfortable. That was the single biggest thing on his brain - not impacting the friendship that he had with Charlie. Nick wasn’t going to say anything or make it obvious, but in the privacy of his own mind, he’d let himself just try on what it felt like to like Charlie - to have a crush…crush?...on a man.
Nick was impatiently busying himself with chores and absent-mindedly chatting with guests on Tuesday evening as he waited for Charlie. He straight-up abandoned both a conversation with an older gentleman and the butternut squash soup he had on the stove when he saw Charlie’s headlamps turn into the drive. Calling out a belated apology and a commitment to be right back, Nick went onto the porch, crossing his arms against the cold and leaning against the railing. He took a deep breath. Everything was still the same - but different. Nick was a little bit different now. He watched as Charlie’s figure moved around in the car, presumably gathering his things, silhouetted against the dome light. Nick was going to let himself just…like Charlie.
And as Charlie got out of the car and smiled up at him, Nick felt a dizzy swoop. God, did he like Charlie.
Nick stepped off the porch as Charlie crossed towards it, meeting Nick in the middle of the drive in a tight, warm hug. One…two….three….four. Nick released Charlie, having planned that a four-second hug would be the appropriate length of time that wasn’t too long but still felt welcoming. Nick had Googled and read that it took six seconds to release oxytocin, but when Nick counted that one out, it had felt a little too long. He grabbed Charlie’s bag, and silently counted it as a win that Charlie didn’t even protest at all, letting Nick swing the bag onto his shoulder. They chatted a little about nothing as they entered into the house, Nick briefly introducing Charlie to the other guests who were still in the dining room. Nick normally didn’t mind having guests in the dining room and kitchen at any time, but Charlie was here. Nick wanted to catch up with Charlie, and he was hyper-aware of the idea of inviting Charlie to talk in Nick’s upstairs living room or trying to linger in Charlie’s room and chat.
Nick carried Charlie’s bag up to his room, Charlie thanking Nick as he took it, Nick leaning against the doorway.
“So,” said Charlie with that shy, half-grin that he did when he wanted to bring up something as a joke that there was a grain of truth to. “Have you thought of a way to ask me not to stay as long since we messaged this morning?”
Nick rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, keeping them in that position as he spoke. “Okay, here, does this physical reenactment of the emoji help you answer your own question?”
Charlie giggled his gentle, almost melodic giggle, and Nick felt his stomach tighten, which he now recognised was a wave of attraction for Charlie. Now that Nick was letting himself notice things about Charlie, there were so many things he noticed. He noticed the way Charlie’s face looked when he laughed; the way his blue eyes looked even brighter when he did against his dark hair and eyelashes. Nick noticed the way that Charlie tilted his head when he laughed, just slightly to the side. It was all so…endearing. He had to refocus himself on what Charlie was saying.
“Ugh, fine, you rugby bully. I’ll do you the favour of staying and taking advantage of your hospitality at a reduced rate and getting in the way as you try to tend to this legitimate family business.”
“Good,” said Nick primly, and Charlie laughed again.
“And, well - since I’m already asking you for too much,” said Charlie, Nick frowning slightly even with Charlie’s joking tone. “You had mentioned…” Now Charlie looked a little more serious and anxious, twisting the cuff of his long-sleeve green shirt between his thumb and slender forefinger. “You had, um, mentioned that it might be okay to invite Elle and Tao up. Would that…still be okay?” Charlie asked. “Not this weekend, but next - for them to stay here? They just really loved it here and I know Elle would love some time away from the city.”
Nick had been listening with a furrowed brow, not liking the way Charlie got so nervous asking for something so small, so easy. Something that would clearly bring a lot of joy for him. And there was something about the words Charlie had used…
Too much.
Nick hated the idea of Charlie feeling like any request was too much. And Nick had literally offered this a few days ago, too. He tried to make his expression light and happy, not wanting Charlie to think that his frustration was on Charlie’s behalf whatsoever. “I’d love for them to come,” Nick said, intentionally keeping his voice warm. “That’ll be brilliant for all of us to be here together again.” Nick pulled out his phone quickly to scan the reservations, quickly confirming availability. “Looks like there’s only two other rooms here that weekend besides yours, so that’s easy,” he added, smiling at Charlie.
Charlie looked at Nick like Nick was the kindest person he had ever met, and Nick felt his heart break a little at the expression. “Thank you,” he said, his smile grateful. “I know they’ve both talked about coming here again.” He paused, tilting his head consideringly. “Well, Elle has. Tao just makes some sort of affirmative noise and once mentioned cows, which means he can’t wait to come back.”
Nick laughed. “Ooh, reckon I should mess with him a bit? Pretend you and Elle have some plans together and that I’ve scheduled some ‘hard core bro time’ at the gym where we can eat dry protein powder and talk about our bicep measurements?”
Nick saw Charlie’s eyes flicker to his arms quickly even as Charlie laughed, feeling a surge of pride and subconsciously flexing, just a little. “Oh my god yes,” said Charlie, sniggering. “I cannot wait to see the look on his face when you say that.”
“As much as I would, too, there is no way I’m tough enough to actually propose that,” laughed Nick. “I feel like that would be one of those adrenaline moments, you know, the ones that, like, mothers can have where they can pick a car up off a baby? He’d literally pick me up and throw me through the wall of the barn.”
Charlie laughed, loudly. “Yes. Tao, whose arms are basically twigs, is going to throw you through the window and across the street, all…that of you,” he said, gesturing broadly at Nick’s body.
Nick felt a flush on his cheeks and looked down for a moment, turning his head as he laughed. “Well, regardless. I don’t want to risk damage to life, limb, or property. And honestly, it’s for Tao, too - I don't want him to go to prison and for Nellie and Henry to have to post bale.” Nick laughed loudly as Charlie deadened his expression and stepped backwards, shutting the door slowly in Nick’s face.
He opened it again, laughing. “Fuck. Well, there’s your one laugh for the night.”
Nick preened, tossing his head haughtily. “I’ll take it.” He grinned at Charlie, and then stepped back. “I’ll let you get to bed,” he said. “I know it’s a long day on Tuesdays with work and the whole drive here.” He stood in the doorframe, looking at Charlie, taking him in. God, he wanted to hold him. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick,” said Charlie with a soft smile, and Nick gave a tiny wave as he stepped back from the person that did things to his heart, quietly walking down the hall to his side of the house to prepare for tomorrow, rest, and dream about the face that he was so, so glad to see again.
-
It was amazing how long it always felt since Charlie had been at Lavender Fields, every time he left. Nick felt a bit like he had been given a respite from a prison sentence, knowing that Charlie was going to stay a bit longer than Nick had previously thought. He knew that there was still an end date, but Nick pushed that out of his mind, thinking of Charlie there just a little bit longer. Now that he considered it, Charlie would probably overlap with his mum for a day or two before he left left, and that sent a huge smile across his face. Sarah was going to adore Charlie. How could she not, honestly?
The week was fantastic, as it always was with Charlie. Charlie had a bit of a lighter week at work, and so he was able to stick around for nearly all of the breakfasts. Nick had finally given in to Charlie’s ridiculous insistence that he help with some things, acquiescing to letting Charlie prepare the coffees and teas while Nick got food ready, Charlie helping to plate and bring the food to the table. Nick got in the habit that week of joining the guests to eat, not wanting it to seem or look odd that Charlie both helped a bit around the table and was a guest. It was too long of a story to explain to virtual strangers, and Nick thought it was just easier that way. He had always enjoyed the conversations that he had with guests, but with Charlie also at the table, they felt even more comfortable. He and Charlie always kept the conversation flowing and made the guests feel welcome.
Nick joined Charlie in the barn on Thursday to listen to him drum, this time allowing himself to just…watch Charlie as he played. Nick set himself up at a worktable nearby to both give himself a task to do and make it not immediately obvious that he was watching Charlie, sneaking glances that turned longer when Nick realised how present Charlie was with his music. Charlie’s eyes were often closed as he played, or his head was down and swaying with the beat, just entirely in his body as he played. Charlie’s focus meant that Nick’s gaze could travel over Charlie’s smoothly flowing hands, watching in awe at the way Charlie rocked and moved as he played. God, it was just so - captivating. Charlie was truly captivating.
They had dinners together most evenings, and as usual, Charlie came with Nick to town on Friday. The farmer’s markets were slowing down or stopping entirely for the season, but as it was nearly the end of November now, Christmas markets would be popping up. Nick was keeping himself busy packaging and labelling a variety of non-perishable goods from Lavender Fields, like the eye pillows his mum had sewed before she had left on her trip, or the lavender oil and lotion bottles that Nick was busy mixing and filling during the down time in the middle of the day. He’d make some big batches of granola soon and package them in glass jars over the next few weeks, which Charlie had sweetly offered to help with.
God, Charlie. It was so staggering for Nick to see Charlie through his newly opened eyes and newly understanding brain. Charlie was so good. He was just - good. Nick knew it felt overly simplistic to say it like that, but Charlie just made Nick feel so heard. When they spoke sometimes at dinners, they’d end up sharing a bit about their families. Charlie had started to tell Nick more about his parents (in addition to more about Oliver and Tori, who was apparently his older sister). Charlie’s mum sounded like a real piece of work, and Charlie told Nick how challenging his teen years had been when Charlie was working both through his sexuality and, as it sounded, some challenges with eating that Charlie didn’t go much into.
In return, Nick shared more about his dad and brother. He told Charlie more than he had told most people; told him about the way his dad had stressed image and perfection over all. Nick had loved playing rugby, but sometimes he felt sickened by the pressure to be perfect from his dad. He told Charlie about the phone calls and messages he’d get after every match, haranguing Nick for what he had done wrong, rarely focusing on what he’d done right. Nick quietly shared what happened after Danny and James had come out, the hateful words that his dad had used to tell him that he needed to get a trade, the anger still rising in Nick’s chest as he remembered it.
Nick had shared little of this even with Seamus and Amy. There was both a complicating factor with both of them, since they were so involved with his rugby life, and then there was also the fact that he was sharing it with…Charlie. Charlie made Nick feel so…listened to. When Nick was playing, he was a frequent focus of media attention, both from the nature of his position and because he was “a looker”, according to Imogen, who worked on their PR team. Nick was always talking to people, but he rarely felt listened to. Charlie was the opposite of that. Charlie would look at Nick when Nick shared with him - really look. He’d pay attention to Nick’s face and sometimes back off, sometimes ask Nick some gentle questions. Nick just felt - cared for. And he also realised, as he shared, that talking about it with Charlie helped loosen some of that knot in his chest. It wasn’t as if Nick was going to re-engage in a relationship with his dad (the Danny and James thing had fully taken care of that), but it just felt good to talk about it and process some of the things that Nick had experienced and swallowed down for several years.
It felt like a blink before it was Sunday. Charlie had gone out Saturday evening to meet a friend who lived in Portsmouth. Nick had watched the Badgers and Leicester matches to cheer on his former team and Seamus’s team, and was both disappointed and relieved that Charlie wasn’t around to watch with him; Nick nervous about recreating (or ever even re-experiencing) the fragile magic that had led to the movie night the week before. Nick wanted another one of those, and he was so anxious about the idea of another one of those.
Because it was…Charlie. Now that Nick had let himself like Charlie for this week, he could feel how much he liked Charlie. He liked the way Charlie’s voice sounded early in the morning, when they were quietly talking and getting things ready for breakfast. He liked the way Charlie knew where things were in the kitchen, gently taking things out of Nick’s hands as he dried them to return them to their rightful places. He liked the way Charlie’s face was so warm and soft when he spoke to Nellie and Henry, cooing loving things at them and scritching at their heads. And god, did he like the way Charlie felt in his arms. Nick liked the way it felt to hold Charlie on that Sunday afternoon before he left that week, Charlie looking down and giving a little laugh after they released one another, then giving Nick an adorable, shy wave as he backed out of the drive.
Nick liked Charlie so much.
Notes:
Butternut Squash Soup
Ingredients:
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion
1 c cashews
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
1 large butternut squash, peeled and chopped (or use frozen!)
5 c vegetable broth
2 Tbsp ginger, peeled and minced
2 tsp cumin
2 Tbsp coriander
1 tsp curry powder (or add more to taste)
1 tsp turmeric
Salt (if you use unsalted cashews)
PepperIn a pot with a lid, heat the oil over medium heat. Saute the onion until it is soft, about 5 minutes. Add the cashews and cook for 3 minutes. Add the garlic and spices and cook for 30 seconds, stirring to combine. Add the squash and broth. Stir and place a lid on the pot. Cook for 30 minutes, until the squash is soft. Use an immersion blender or transfer soup to a food processor or high speed blender to process in batches. Puree until smooth and add salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: Perception
Summary:
Last Time: Amy talks to Nick about his feelings for Charlie. Nick tries on ‘liking’ Charlie for a week and hoo boy, does he ever.
This Time: Nick and Charlie are back at Lavender Fields, and Elle and Tao come to join them for the weekend.
Notes:
You know that feeling when you've been so, so hungry all day and you sit down and order an appetizer, resigning yourself that it's going to take a while - but then they come over sooner than you think with a giant basket of crispy, delicious seasoned waffle fries? That feeling of delighted joy and glee is what I feel when I see waveofyou and NellieSayzBork's comments and DMs. You two are the waffle fries of my heart. Also they ganged up on me on Tuesday telling me to, "Let Charlie fuck" in a positive feedback loop of debauchery.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Monday and Tuesday were now just waiting days. Monday was one day, Tuesday was two day - the days that Charlie was gone. Nick’s life still went on, of course, and he enjoyed it. He worked and met with guests and did chores and things happened - but really, Nick was just waiting for the thing to happen, for Charlie’s return on Tuesday evening.
Nick busied himself on Tuesday evening, making a couple of blueberry lemon loaves and setting them out to cool so he could ice them before Charlie arrived. He knew the scent would bring some guests nosing out of their rooms, so Nick sliced up the extra loaf and set it on a plate in the parlour, keeping Charlie’s loaf hidden away in the kitchen, wanting it to be for just him. And if he liked it, Nick would make another one for Elle and Tao that weekend, too.
Nick could feel himself getting more and more keen as the minutes ticked away to Charlie’s arrival, then the moments until Charlie was out of the car, and then the fractions of seconds until Nick could wrap his arms around Charlie and welcome him home - welcome him back -with an embrace. Every moment up until Charlie’s arrival seemed to drag in those last few hours, and then the ones where he was holding Charlie - those passed far too quickly. With the guests lured into the parlour, Nick was able to steal a few precious, private moments with Charlie, the two of them settling in and chatting at the dining room table, both of them expressing surprise when they looked at the clock and realised that it was nearly 11. Nick gave Charlie another long (but not too-long) hug goodnight before Charlie headed upstairs and Nick retreated to his own room.
Nick and Charlie seemed to fall into easy patterns with each other at Lavender Fields. Nick realised with a start one morning what an established part of the breakfast routine Charlie had become. Charlie knew where everything in the kitchen went; he could anticipate where Nick was going next; he brought plates out to the table with a warm smile. Nick treasured the mornings that they had together, not knowing how many more weeks (or days, really) Charlie would be staying. He and Charlie would meet in the morning after Nick had done the farm chores and Charlie had worked out. Nick loved those moments. They’d both come in from the cold and more often than not cross over into the warm kitchen to make tea and coffee (their personal cups, not for guests), chatting quietly in low tones and with gentle smiles before they’d both excuse themselves to shower. Then they would meet up again to work on breakfast together, Charlie checking in with Nick about the number of guests to set the table for and working on the tea and coffee. The two of them would talk as they worked, Charlie’s laughter at something Nick said floating in from the dining room into the kitchen. That sound was more delicious than anything Nick ever prepared. Nick loved when Charlie moved in and out of the kitchen; it felt absolutely ridiculous to even think, but Charlie just smelled so good. Freshly out of the shower, Nick could smell the grapefruit and vanilla in Charlie’s hair from the stuff that he had added to Charlie’s bathroom when he had first arrived (having read reviews that said it was the best for curly hair). Charlie had raved to Nick about the product, and the day after, Nick had quietly bought several more bottles to have on hand in case Charlie ran out. God, how the fuck had Nick not realised his feelings for Charlie before?
Nick adored looking at Charlie’s dark curls, often still wet and looking especially brilliant against the bright colour of whatever sweater Charlie was wearing that day. The mornings before the guests arrived felt like they were only for them, and Nick loved those mornings.
During Thursday’s breakfast, Nick and Charlie didn’t actually sit down to eat breakfast with the guests; they oddly had a full house the night before and would the next day as well, with most of the guests set to depart on Friday ahead of Elle and Tao’s arrival. They were kept busy running around with several kids in the house who all wanted “special Mr. Nick pancakes” that Nick had teased the night before. He made a few roughly cow-shaped pancakes using batter from a squeeze bottle to make the shapes. The kids were delighted, but then adults wanted pancakes too, and Nick continued to batch cook while Charlie whisked back and forth to pour more coffee and top off waters.
The group finally started to straggle off from the table, and Nick was ready to have a moment to breathe. Full table moments were rarer in the winter, and Nick wasn’t inn shape for a busy morning like that any more. Oh, he needed to tell Charlie that; Charlie would hate it. Nick headed out to the dining room again to see how hard he could make Charlie roll his eyes, but instead saw his dark head of hair disappear into the hallway between the main house and Nick’s side, presumably to get something from the pantry.
“Thank you for breakfast,” said an older woman warmly to Nick, getting up from her chair. “We have to leave early tomorrow morning; is it possible to have breakfast a bit earlier tomorrow? I know you mentioned that sometimes you do a couple servings, is that right?”
“Yes, of course, what time?”
“Perhaps half seven or so?”
“Actually, can we do that too?” asked one of the men from another couple.
Nick nodded. “Absolutely, just let me go get the calendar to remind myself-”
“May we get some additional towels, too?” asked another woman.
Nick smiled and nodded and rushed off to the office to get the book, checking in with the various guests to confirm who’d eat at 7:30 and who’d eat at the normal time of 9:00, silently ruing the loss of part of tomorrow’s morning with Charlie. He finally got the serving times squared away, only to slap himself on the forehead, recalling the towels that the one guest had asked for.
Nick grabbed a stack of clean towels from the linen closet and went to her room, knocking on the door. She opened it, a clean towel in hand, already apologising as she caught sight of Nick.
“Oh, thank you so much for bringing those, dear, but I saw you were busy and asked your husband if he could grab us some instead. He just brought these up; what a sweet man!”
Nick’s brain flashed an error message, Nick blinking and only half-parsing the woman’s words. Husband? He was actually utterly perplexed for a moment, having no idea what she was talking about. And then it clicked into place - Charlie. Oh, god. Oh god. Nick’s eyes shot open.
“OH! HA HA! HE IS NOT - WE’RE NOT - I’M - IT’S - HE’S - YES, GOOD, TOWEL! Here, have more!” Nick probably could have been a PA announcer without the need for a stadium’s sound system with how unintentionally loud he realised his voice was. He thrust all of the towels he was holding at the perplexed-looking woman and scurried away before the heat from his face set off the fire detector in the hallway. Nick dashed down the stairs and waved a quick hello to Charlie who was mercifully now in the kitchen, far out of earshot of what the woman had said. He went outside and let his glowing face cool in the chilly air.
Husband.
He was feeling a lot of things. There was the utter relief that Charlie had not heard, of course, but it was mixed with a lot of other feelings and thoughts coursing through Nick’s brain and chest, threatening to overwhelm him. God, what, nine days into this sexuality crisis thing and already someone thought he was with a man? Married to a man?
That wasn’t a bad thing of course, just - just a possibility that his brain wouldn’t have considered even two weeks ago. Nick knew that his brain was still catching up to the stuff happening in his heart (the call with Amy had really revealed that), and this was another jolt that massively upended the boxes in his brain. That wasn’t a word that fit neatly into any of the folders and organisation systems that he had developed for thirty-one years. And that woman hadn’t even used the word boyfriend, though that would have probably created the same effect for Nick. He did concede that it made sense she could have thought… that. He and Charlie were close and they probably had the appearance of running the bed and breakfast together; Charlie had been SUCH a help; the bed and breakfast was marketed as an LGBTQIA+-friendly business thanks to Sarah. Nick smiled a little to himself to think of what Charlie would say about what Nick had said - Charlie being a massive help. Charlie would claim that he wasn’t much help at all, or protest that he was just doing this to “cover his rent” or any of the other deflections he used. Charlie. Nick shook his head fondly to himself.
Catching his mind wandering to Charlie again - always Charlie - Nick took a breath and tried to sit with the feelings again, leaning into what Amy said. Just let himself feel whatever he was feeling this week. He was feeling…
He was feeling maybe - curious now. About his reaction to that word, to the idea of a man marrying a man and that being a possibility for his life. Husband. Not a word that Nick even thought he’d use regarding possible future romantic relationships for himself. Be a husband? Sure. Have a husband? Until a week or so ago, Nick hadn’t even realised that he could have feelings for a man. And even then, Nick definitely never would have imagined that he’d think about a word like that. Not for himself, him having a husband some day. But now, thinking about it, it wasn’t a bad word. It wasn’t even scary, just scary in the idea of how many new pathways were laid out in front of Nick. Though Nick had to admit, it was scary a little to think of that word for himself. It was just so startlingly different than anything he’d ever considered for himself. He had no qualms at all about men being married to men. He was genuinely waiting for the day that Danny and James became husbands at this point. Nick knew that Danny was basically ready to propose from the day that he and James became a couple.
Husband wasn’t a bad word. It was just one that, again, Nick never thought he’d be using for himself. Nick had gone his entire life with the same pronouns and terms and assumptions about who his future partner would be. There had been one pathway in front of him, though the road itself may have looked different. But now, it was like he was standing in front of an intersection of roads, each one branching off into some unknown, mysterious location.
Nick had no idea which path he’d end up on, or if this liking-Charlie thing could (or would) ever result in him ever liking another man, too. It was another one of those swooping-missed-step feelings; the ones that feel jarring before landing back on solid ground. Nick had no idea what his future was going to look like (and who or what he might consider himself as he continued to figure all of this out). He had no idea if he would ever end up…dating?...Charlie, even though it gave him a tingly thrill to think about it. Right now that seemed like an impossibility, with far too many barriers and questions between him and that even having a chance. And the idea of having a future spouse who was a man was even more remote, no matter who it was. It was a bewildering expansion of possibilities, all of them fraught with unknowns and all shrouded with mystery, but that word…
Husband.
That was a nice word.
-
On Friday during lunch, Charlie came down on a break from his work. Charlie usually stayed in his room most of the day Fridays, trying to hurry to get everything done so he could join Nick in town, a fact that made Nick immeasurably happy. Nick didn’t usually get to see him at lunch on Friday, so he was pleasantly surprised when Charlie messaged him around 11 to let him know. Nick had calmed down considerably since yesterday’s “husband” debacle. He knew that he had been twitchy and maybe a little giddy for the second half of Thursday, Charlie looking at him in bemusement when Nick jumped from topic to topic the second half of that day.
At lunchtime, Charlie came downstairs with his laptop in hand, and grinned as he opened it back up. He looked at Nick with mock seriousness. “Are you wearing waterproof mascara?”
Nick tilted his head, puzzled. “I - what? I’m not wearing…any?”
Charlie smiled and gave Nick a little teasing look that made Nick’s belly flutter. He turned his laptop to face Nick and started scrolling down the page, Nick’s eyes widening as Charlie went.
“So this is the table of contents,” Charlie said softly. Nick could feel Charlie looking at him as he continued to move through the pages. “Of course, there are only a few recipes that are actually in here so far, but I think I have most of the page layouts that we’ll use.” Nick felt his breath shallow in his chest as Charlie kept scrolling. There were two-page layouts and single page layouts, ones with placeholder art and then ones with actual pictures of food that he - Nick - had made. Charlie must have taken pictures of breakfasts and dishes that Nick had made and remembered which recipes they were. He thought he had been emotional when Charlie had shown him the mock-ups a few weeks before, but this was something else. This was like, Fox and the Hound levels of emotional. Nick swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat, not knowing why he was having such a strong reaction yet again.
Nick jumped a little when he felt Charlie’s hand, light and hesitant on his arm. He swallowed again and looked over and down at Charlie, who was looking at him with soft eyes.
“Hi,” said Charlie gently, grounding Nick more than Charlie could have known.
Nick huffed out a little laugh. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
Nick gave a half-laugh and blinked hard. “Yeah. It’s just - this is truly one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”
Charlie smiled at him, his face warm and caring, his hand still on Nick’s forearm. “Do you still like it so far?”
Nick looked at Charlie, taking a big breath in. “I do.” He looked at the face that made him feel alternately overwhelmed, delighted, and terrified. “I like it so much.”
Charlie blinked and seemed momentarily startled, then his face relaxed back into a smile again. “Good. I’m really - I’m really glad about that, Nick. I’m going to send you the file through our secure system - copyrights and all that, you know? Make comments on it, okay? Even things like colours and fonts and the way paragraphs are spaced. This is going to be what you want it to be for you and your mum.” He looked down and seemed surprised that his hand was still on Nick’s arm, removing it with a start.
Nick looked down, too, then away. He still felt the lingering warmth of Charlie’s hand. He wanted it back. “Thank you. I love it. This is going to be - I can’t even tell you, Charlie. She is going to love it so, so much.”
“Good,” said Charlie, closing his computer and giving Nick another smile that made Nick feel like the sun was smiling down on him. “I think if you give some feedback in the next few weeks and let me take the other two binders back on Sunday I can get those pages at least scanned in. I think we could at least get a draft ready by the start of next year. And then we’ll have to do proper pictures at some point, too. We just have those placeholder ones…”
“That you took, you sneaky photography ninja!” exclaimed Nick.
Charlie laughed, and then adopted an accent. “I think you underestimate the sneakiness, sir.”
Nick laughed loudly. “Oh my god, don’t tell me…uh, it’s Adam Sandler…Oh, Mr. Deeds, right?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, giggling.
“We’ll have to watch that for our next throwback film night, though I don’t think that’s in the VHS tape cellar,” mused Nick. “It’s a lovely vintage, though.”
“That’s okay, I bet we can stream it,” said Charlie. “Though don’t get your hopes up for any enjoyable films this weekend,” he warned with a raised finger. “You are about to be miserable for two to three hours with whatever Tao picks if we do end up watching something.”
Nick thought about the idea of being pressed up next to Charlie on a couch for two hours. The idea did not make him think that he would be miserable in the least. “So…I take it we’re not watching Air Bud?”
Charlie laughed. “Not if you value your self-esteem; I think Tao would have several aspersions to cast on your character if you suggested that.”
Nick grinned. “I’ll take my chances. When are they arriving?”
“They both have to work most of the day, so Elle said maybe half seven or so. She sent several messages obliquely asking if you were going to have something ready for dinner or if they should pick something up; I think she’s craving some Nick Nelson cooking.”
“Well, I can’t disappoint,” said Nick, pretending to flick his hair off his shoulder. “Do you have time to come to town with me before they come? I can pick up some stuff for dinner and then do the drop-offs and all that.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie with a smile at Nick that made him feel far more light-headed than a single smile should make him.
“See you at….four?”
“Perfect,” said Charlie with the same dazzling smile.
He was. He really was. Charlie was perfect.
-
That afternoon, they headed to town, Charlie helping Nick load the truck. They rumbled into town, the cab of the truck warm against the sharp cold of the late November day. As always, Charlie played music, a mixture of songs he’d played for Nick before and ones that Nick had never heard. At one point Nick caught a glimpse of Charlie’s phone and saw the label - Lavender Fields Mix. It made him feel incredibly warm and a little fluttery that Charlie had a playlist for them. Or rather - their time together. Nick let his mind drift a bit as they rode in companionable silence, the music swirling between them, melodious and light. Maybe Charlie valued their days together as much as Nick did. Not in the same way Nick did, of course. But maybe Charlie was equally sad to think about their time together coming to a close when the construction was done. Nick wondered if Charlie might still come visit at all once the work was done. The idea of not seeing him again - that was…
Nick didn’t want to think about that.
He cast it out of his mind as they got to town, the thought disappearing like mist as he and Charlie completed the drop-offs together, Charlie helping him unload. They moved in harmony with each other like they did in the kitchen, smoothly shifting past each other, making light jokes and quick conversation. Nick went to pick up groceries while Charlie nipped into the off-licence to get ingredients for some new cocktails that he had seen recipes for that week. They met back up and went to drop off the last box of goods to Mark, the bloke who always asked about his mum. True to form, Mark asked how Sarah was doing and when she would be back with a bit too much of an interested tone than Nick would have liked. Nick gave a short answer back and headed back to the truck with Charlie.
Nick drove in silence for a minute. He could hear Charlie looking at him mischievously.
“So he was…” Oh, there was definitely a cheeky grin in Charlie’s voice.
“He’s a vendor,” said Nick.
“A vendor who’s quite interested in the comings and goings of a certain Lavender Fields mum?”
Nick scowled. “ Too interested.”
Charlie laughed. “Oh my god, you salty, overprotective rugby bully!”
Nick snorted despite himself. “Salty? ”
“Yeah, you’re totally salting your mum’s game.”
Nick spluttered. “Her…game?!”
Charlie smirked. “I’ve seen pictures at Lavender Fields and online. Your mum is a catch.”
“Charlie, I swear to god, I will turn every sentence into a pun if you keep going down this path. I’ll be insufferable.”
“...More insufferable, you mean?”
“Oi!”
Charlie laughed again. “I’m just saying. Your mum’s been single for a while, right? Does she date?”
“Nope.”
“Nick.”
“I’m serious!”
“Oh, you poor, sweet, naive, temporary innkeeper.”
Nick finally let out a laugh. “Okay, maybe she has dated since my dad. But we don’t talk about it. Thank god.”
Charlie moved his hands in front of him like he was painting the air with his musings. “Think about it, Nick. She’s on a romantic trip around the world. She’s a single woman, visiting amazing places, trying new things, meeting tons of interesting people on her travels. I bet she’s Tindering it up right now.”
Nick squeaked. “How dare you, Charles Elvira Rossellini Spring! Sarah Nelson goes to museums during the day and then goes to bed at seven pm promptly each night.”
Charlie tilted his head. “Elvira Rossellini? Not even going to touch that.”
Nick shuddered. “Can we talk about something more pleasant than my mum dating?” He paused. “Ugh, especially Mark. If she was going to date, she’s not going to date someone like that. Charlie, he said once that his favourite food was ‘soup’. Sarah will date someone with taste, both literal and metaphorical.”
Charlie laughed and leaned his head back against the headrest. Nick could see the whole pale column of his throat and looked quickly back at the road. “Okay, got it. I’ll get a few more qualities you need covered before I wingman the shit out of Sarah Nelson when she gets here next week.”
Nick laughed again despite himself. “I will shut the Internet off before I let that happen, I swear to Jobs.”
“Jobs?”
“Steve Jobs?”
“Oh my god, you made a pun about…the Internet? And Apple? Just let me out here.”
Nick grinned. “If I did, you’d miss this view!” He had taken them another way back (far out of the way this time), taking advantage of the many gorgeous, winding roads in the area. They were skirting along the edge of some seaside cliffs now after they came round a bend in the road.
Charlie gasped, turning to look out of the window. “God! It’s gorgeous, Nick!” He hummed and stared out the window, leaning his body against the door. Nick smiled softly, taking in the view himself, the blues and greens and greys and blacks. The blue of Charlie’s eyes as he looked out the window, the greens of Charlie’s sweater. The greys of the clouds that framed Charlie’s outline, the black of his jeans. Charlie turned suddenly, catching Nick off-guard, Nick trying to school his face. “What?” Charlie asked, with a half-cocked grin.
“Nothing,” said Nick, trying (successfully, he thought) to keep the blush off his cheeks. “Yeah, it is gorgeous.”
-
They pulled into the drive and Nick set about getting dinner ready, taking out the large Dutch oven and sauteing onions and garlic, then adding mushrooms, broth, white wine, and barley. He periodically stirred the mock-risotto as it cooked, adjusting the taste with spices as Charlie tried a few different variations on the cocktail recipe. Spicy palomas weren’t the most natural pairing for a mushroom-barley risotto, but Nick and Charlie agreed that it was an unexpected and perfect couple, like Robin Williams and Nathan Lane in The Birdcage. Charlie mused that Tao might be willing to entertain that as a film, and Nick burst into several lines of the film’s dialogue, clutching his chest and dramatically yelling that he needed his ‘Spirins’ and making Charlie giggle. The two of them were tasting both the risotto and the cocktails as they worked, and they were definitely leaning a little heavier on the cocktail sampling. They also had needed to finish the leftover white wine from the dish, a task they both had taken seriously. And the recipe had only called for 150 mL, so they had some work to do.
Charlie turned on some music and hopped on the counter, closing his eyes and swaying to the music as Nick cooked, his drink teetering dangerously close to the edge of his glass. Nick smiled at Charlie as he moved. It had been bitterly cold this week, so Charlie had just gotten in a few drum sessions. Nick always stopped by at least for a few minutes when Charlie played, marvelling at the smooth, confident energy that Charlie radiated when he was immersed in music. Nick reckoned it was like when he was playing rugby - the way that when he was training or engaged in a match. Those were the moments when everything made sense; when time flowed so smoothly that Nick barely even noticed it passing by. Nick had struggled without being able to tap into that since he retired, and he realised with a start the closest he’d come to that feeling of flow again was…being with Charlie. Nick felt just as present, just as immersed, without the anxieties that often prickled at his brain most of the time.
Nick snapped out of his head when another song came on, Charlie’s eyes snapping open. “I love this song!” he exclaimed. It was one that Nick didn’t know, but he immediately liked it. It had a thumping bass that made Nick’s slightly-tipsy self want to move along to. He listened to it, grinning and moving his head.
The power lives in me
The power lives in you
Whatever reminds you
Don’t let it define you (you’re the only one who’s in charge)
Whatever your secrets
You know you can keep them (you can keep them)
You’re the one who knows your heart
Charlie slid off the counter and started to dance in place, a bit of his drink spilling as he shimmied along to the music, bouncing his shoulders in time to what Nick now knew was a kick drum. Nick laughed aloud as Charlie closed his eyes and started to move around the kitchen in dramatic, giant dance-y steps, mouthing along to the music. Nick didn’t know the song but he took a few tentative march-steps in time to the music, taking a long slug of his drink to kill it before joining Charlie, a little more exuberant this time. Within a minute, they were both moving around the kitchen in a two-person dance party. Nick felt alive, his self-consciousness dropping away. Charlie had set his drink down by this point and was singing along fully to the song, Nick trying to catch snippets of the chorus to join in, too.
There was a trilling piano bridge that Nick played air-piano to, making Charlie laugh. The music dropped down to a shouting chorus, Nick and Charlie surging towards each other to both move their shoulders, Nick throwing his head back and laughing at Charlie’s falsetto. The music swelled and Nick moved towards Charlie, laying a hand across Charlie’s stomach and swinging the two of them in a dancing, laughing circle, shoulder-to-shoulder and facing opposite directions as they moved. Charlie was laughing and Nick felt a bloom of happy joy in his chest as they spun, the alcohol making him far braver than he would have been normally. They both tilted their heads back and sang together, Nick mimicking Charlie’s words and both of them laughing at his attempts.
“...Is this your audition tape for Britain’s Got Talent?” called a voice from the doorway, and Nick dropped his hand and spun, Charlie whipping around, too.
“Elle!” squealed Charlie, rushing towards her, the kitchen floor now hopelessly covered in spicy paloma.
“I see you two started without us,” laughed Elle, smiling at Nick over Charlie’s shoulder. She released Charlie and then hugged Nick, a warm and lovely hug. Nick tried to get the blush off his face. He was a terrible dancer and never danced in front of others, and the embarrassment of being seen dancing was making his face glow.
“We did,” said Charlie somberly, though with a little hiccup. “Nick made risotto and we needed to use wine in it. And wine goes bad within thirty minutes of opening, you know. It’s science.”
Elle laughed. “Oh, yes, everyone knows that.” She gave Nick a quick glance and a curious-looking smile that he couldn’t quite parse. He felt like he had been - caught, somehow? Although he hadn’t done anything wrong, he still felt…like Elle was looking at him in some sort of…way. Maybe it was just the drink.
“Where’s Tao?” asked Nick.
“He had to finish a call,” explained Elle. “He should be in in just a minute, though full disclosure, he is in a mood. There was a permitting issue with a shoot that he was doing, so he’s very grumpy right now.”
“And that differs from his usual mood…how?” asked Charlie with a grin, and Elle laughed.
Tao was indeed in a mood when he came in, but it was somewhat mollified when Nick immediately filled both his hands with a drink in one and a slice of lemon blueberry loaf in the other, which Charlie had adored and encouraged Nick to make for Elle and Tao.
“A well-nourished Tao is a happy Tao,” Charlie murmured to Nick, nodding with approval. “Excellent work, chef Nick.”
Nick blushed. “I think all credit goes to mixologist Spring.”
Charlie flushed too, and the both of them drunkenly giggled for a moment before Nick sobered up enough to remember to dish out bowls of the risotto. Elle and Tao quickly dropped their things off in their room and came back down to take their servings and cocktails. Nick followed the three of them up the stairs to his personal living room, carrying the pitcher of palomas that Charlie had mixed. Charlie sat down first on one end of the couch and then gave Nick a small smile as Nick settled the dishes on the table for everyone. He went towards Charlie to sit next to him, blinking in surprise when Tao dropped down in the seat beside Charlie, still scolding Nick for his lack of cinematic history.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Donnie Darko,” said Tao as he sat, shaking his head disapprovingly at Nick like he should have wanted to terrify himself as a child.
“Oh, uh - yeah,” said Nick, easing into the single-seater armchair and swallowing down the disappointment. “Er, no, I guess.”
Elle settled down next to Tao, giving Nick a long, perceiving look. He dropped his eyes to his bowl and then looked up, Elle’s eyes thankfully back on Tao. “Not everyone has seen your ‘10 most influential films of the early noughties’ list, Tao,” she chided.
“Well, they should,” groused Tao. Charlie and Nick exchanged a quick smile behind his head.
They started eating and turned the film on, Nick utterly lost after just the first five minutes. Tao immediately shushed him after he excitedly exclaimed about Maggie Gyllenhall, and Nick took out his phone, texting Charlie instead to try to figure out what the fuck was happening.
nnelson: Is he sleepwalking? Is this real?
C. Spring: oh god nick it is going to get so much worse before it gets better
nnelson: I’M SORRY WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GIANT RABBIT AND DO I HAVE TO SEE IT AGAIN
C. Spring: oh, is the strong rugby lad scared?
nnelson: YES
nnelson: Wait why is the world ending
nnelson: What happened to their house?!
nnelson: OMG Patrick Swayze?!
C. Spring: lolololol
C. Spring: buckle up nicky, it’s gonna be a long ride.
nnelson: Nicky?! How dare you!
nnelson: Why do they wear uniforms?
nnelson: Is this like a private school?
nnelson: That bully kid is a dick should I care about him
nnelson: Charlieeeee what is happening
nnelson: Ooh, Drew Barrymore!
C. Spring: omg this is so much better than actually watching this film
C. Spring: (...for the 78th time)
They messaged all through the film. It wasn’t what Nick wanted - sitting next to Charlie, maybe even feeling the press of Charlie’s shoulder against his. This was nice, too, though, Nick begrudgingly admitted. Even when sitting apart from Charlie, there was still that special themness. Even if it was just friendship for Charlie, there was still a special bond between the two of them that they had developed from essentially being roommates for nearly two months now. And it’s a bond that seems to belie physical distance. Not that proximity to people was Nick’s barometer for how he felt when he was in a group. It was like - Nick had been in rooms full of people so many times. Teammates, fans, reporters, bars. He had been in crowded spaces hundreds of times where he felt so alone. But Nick knew that if Charlie was in any room with him, he’d never feel like he didn’t have a connection. An anchor.
Though the film was fucking terrifying, and Nick knew that he’d have the chills thinking about that weird mask for days. Charlie made it worth it, though, when Nick hugged him goodnight.
“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” murmured Nick as they embraced. “And I’ve seen those images where people anthropomorphized Spongebob characters.”
Charlie drew back and laughed, grinning at Nick. “Don’t worry. I will definitely not stand at the end of your bed in a bunny mask silently waiting until you wake up in the middle of the night at some point.”
Nick gasped theatrically and shuddered. “You could never inflict such cruelty!”
Charlie pretended he was buffing his nails. “You spend enough time around demonic portraits, you learn a thing or two.”
Nick laughed, then pretended to shake his head somberly. “Letting them peer pressure you is the first sign of possession, you know.”
Charlie repressed a little shiver, holding his head aloft. “You’re just jealous of the bond I have with them now.”
Nick laughed again. “You’re right. Tomorrow we can take a black and white picture of you with bloodlust in your eyes and hang it up in a spot of honour alongside your new best friends.”
Charlie snorted. “New best friends? That’ll go right to their heads, thinking they replaced you!” Then he blushed brilliantly. “Thinking that they’re my best friends,” he hurriedly corrected himself in a half-mumble.
Nick knew that he should be saying something to make Charlie feel less awkward. But he was glowing, absolutely lit up from the inside. Best friend. Charlie thought Nick was his best friend. Charlie was…god, yeah, Charlie was absolutely his best friend. Yes, Amy and Seamus too, but Charlie…
Nick couldn’t think of any non-Year Five way of telling Charlie he was Nick’s best friend at the moment too, so he just gave Charlie a smile, one where he tried to gather all of the joy he felt in the moment.
“No one could replace me,” he said loftily, in a joking tone, then let the smile take over again.
Charlie smiled back, clearly relaxing at Nick’s ease. “Well. Good. I hope you sleep well and dream of only normal-sized rabbits, not the man-shaped ones.”
“Too soon, Charlie!”
Charlie laughed and Nick reached out to squeeze his shoulder once more, Charlie misunderstanding and reaching out for another goodnight hug, probably assuming that always-embracing Nick Nelson was going for one yet again. Not that Nick was complaining. He hugged Charlie once more, just for a moment this time.
“Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick.”
-
On Saturday after lunch, Elle, Tao, and Charlie went into town for a bit. Elle wanted to do a bit of shopping, and Tao wanted to check out a few sites a photographer friend had recommended to them. Nick had rushed through his morning chores to maximise the time he spent with Tao, Elle and Charlie that morning, making a waffle and egg breakfast, all of them gathering in the kitchen to eat waffles together as Nick flipped them off the iron. He went back to some farm chores while they were gone, working to winterise the irrigation in a few spots and patching a few spots in the lavender shed that needed securing against winter rain, snow, and winds.
With the days getting so short, the sun was already starting to get low in the sky by the time Tao, Elle, and Charlie returned from town. Nick saw the car pull in the drive from where he was, Elle and Charlie waving as they headed in, loaded down with things. Tao looked at Nick, then beyond him, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head.
A few minutes later, Tao came back out, carrying a large camera and a case. He picked his way to the lavender barn, looking down as he went and walking in an overly cautious, high-stepping way. Nick looked at him with his head tilted curiously.
“There…aren’t landmines, if you were worried about that?” Nick said confusedly to Tao.
Tao gave a light scowl (which Charlie had told him meant anything from ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘faintly amused’) and fixed Nick with a stern look. “I’m avoiding cow pat,” he announced.
“Oh, the cows don’t go up here,” Nick started. “They only stay-”
“-I’d like to take some pictures,” interrupted Tao. “It’s almost golden hour and the light is going to be brilliant.” He looked appraisingly at Nick, but in a different way from Elle. “This is a nice property,” he said finally, and Nick felt a surge of pride at this, coming from Tao in particular. “Honestly, if you and your mum were ever open to filming or photo shoots here, I think you’d be able to do quite well.”
“Really?” asked Nick. He loved the idea of anything where his mum could generate more revenue. He knew (and hoped she knew) that he had plenty to give to her so she could finish working whenever she wanted, but he knew her stubborn independence kept her from accepting much of anything from him, financially at least.
“Yes,” said Tao shortly. “I know clearly nothing’s in bloom right now, but in the summer, based on the pictures I’ve seen - she could do well.” He nodded at Nick. “Can I take some shots?”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” said Nick. “Let me bring you to a few spots.” They walked around for a bit, Tao snapping some pictures with the fields in the foreground and the lavender shed and house in the background. Some featured the barn, and then Tao wanted some down by the gazebo where Elle waved at them before going back to her drawing. They eventually worked their way to the very back edge of the field, the farthest point from the house where the woods hugged the edges of the lavender fields.
“This is the shot,” said Tao admiringly. He took a few pictures with the lavender fields in the foreground, set against the trees in the back. He pointed at the shot. “Go stand over there.”
Nick started. “Where?”
“In the shot,” said Tao exasperatedly. “I need to see how it looks with an actual person in frame.”
Nick hurried to get in the shot, feeling a little ridiculous. Tao didn’t give him any direction, so he just put his hands in his jeans pockets and smiled stupidly, getting a deja-vu-esque feeling that he was posing for his primary school photos. Tao took several more pictures, both with and without flash as the light started to turn golden. Tao had him turn a few times as well, taking a few pictures of the house as the backdrop instead of the trees. This was fine and Nick was glad to be helping Tao (and maybe his mum, too), but Nick was starting to itch to get back to the house. It was Saturday and Charlie would be leaving again tomorrow for his days in London, and Nick wanted to get to hang out with him.
“Charlie,” said Tao out of nowhere as if he was reading Nick’s mind, and Nick jumped.
“What?”
“Charlie!” called Tao, Nick turning his head so quickly that he felt his neck pop.
Charlie was coming towards them in a cable-knit, off-white sweater that looked warm and comfortable. It was one of the warmest days that they’d had in a few weeks, but it was still nearly December and Nick was grateful for the thick jumper he had on as well.
Charlie raised an eyebrow and grinned at the two of them. “Are you Tao’s newest muse?”
Nick laughed and Tao gave Charlie a withering look. “I’m checking out the light. And this is perfect; I need bodies. Charlie, go over there with Nick so I can take some more test shots.”
Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Elle?”
“Down by the water in the gazebo,” Nick replied, and Charlie looked at him and nodded.
“Honestly, Nick, I think that your mum would do well with weddings here, too. Or like, engagement shoots or perfume commercials or whatever,” said Tao, his hands on his hips as he looked around. “I can just imagine that with the lavender in bloom, there’d be a really romantic vibe that would fit a lot of visions.” He snapped his fingers at Charlie. “Charlie, go over there and stand next to Nick so I can take some couples shots.”
Nick felt his stomach drop with giddy yet terrified nerves, and Charlie blanched. “Why don’t I go get Elle?”
“No!” barked Tao. “She’s all the way across the property; the light is going to fade literally in the next few minutes. You two just - stand in.” When neither Nick nor Charlie moved, Nick frozen, Tao rolled his eyes violently. “God, Charlie, don’t be so heteronormative.” He looked at Nick disapprovingly. “And don’t tell me you won’t take pictures with a man.”
Nick could feel the heat radiating off his face now. “No! It’s not-”
“Then get over there,” said Tao with an air of finality, gesturing at them both threateningly with the camera.
Charlie slowly made his way over to Nick, whose heart rate was somewhere in the realm of 6500 beats per minute. He stood next to Nick, their shoulders just bumping up against one another.
Tao huffed. “Like a couple, please,” he said. “I told you, I want to take some test shots and I need to see if the light is blocked or anything. Nick, you stand here,” he said briskly, hanging his camera around his neck and pushing Nick by the chest to stand with his back to the house. “And Charlie, you’re here.” He shoved Charlie back against Nick so that Charlie was against Nick’s chest. Nick’s stomach was essentially on its own out-of-control elevator at this point, swooping up and down. Tao looked at the two of them and rolled his eyes again. “Arms around Charlie, now, Nick,” he commanded, and Nick hesitantly reached up to hold Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie stood with his arms hanging by his sides, his breath feeling shallow against Nick’s chest, his body rigid-feeling.
Tao looked at the two of them, a combination of bewilderment and apoplectic annoyance. “Have the two of you ever seen a couple?” he demanded. He stomped over and wrapped one of Nick’s arms around Charlie’s chest, the other on Charlie’s waist. He moved Charlie’s hands so that each one rested on one of Nick’s arms. “There,” he said, stepping back and picking the camera back up, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the idiocy of the two humans in front of him. He looked down at the camera, fiddling with some settings and ignoring Nick and Charlie for a moment.
Nick realised how shallowly he was breathing, and took a long, slow breath in, trying not to jostle Charlie. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to relax. This was…this could honestly be incredible. He was standing with Charlie, the two of their bodies close, Charlie warm in his arms. But only as long as…
Nick leaned down a little, eyeing Tao warily and speaking quietly. “Are you okay with this?” he asked Charlie.
Charlie relaxed a little in his arms and turned his head to whisper back. “Yes, totally fine,” he said. “Are you?”
Nick was definitely okay. Nick was so, so okay with this. “Yeah,” he said, then paused and grinned to himself. “You’re my human shield in case a giant man-rabbit comes out of the woods; I am great.”
Charlie snorted and his stomach jumped under Nick’s arm as he laughed, trying to keep the sound in to avoid Tao’s ire. “I see what I am to you. A human sacrifice!”
“And warmth,” corrected Nick, wrapping his arms a little more securely around Charlie. “I’m not just using you for protection. I’m using you for biological survival.”
Charlie laughed again and when he stopped, he was even more relaxed and soft against Nick’s arms. Except for his hands, which were pressed against Nick’s arms with such a pleasant, grounding pressure that Nick never wanted him to stop.
“Okay, now look at me,” said Tao loudly, the camera back at eye level. He snapped picture after picture of Nick and Charlie, directing them to turn certain ways or have them change their positions. He had them go shoulder to shoulder with their arms around each other, then take a few where they were next to each other, Charlie looking up at Nick’s face with a smile and Nick looking down. Tao didn’t need to tell Nick to smile at all; he thought it might be permanently plastered on his face at this point. He has been secretly hoping that Tao would direct them to hold hands at some point in the photo shoot. Nick still wondered what it would feel like to hold Charlie’s hand, so badly that it ached. However, Tao never told them to, and Nick was too scared of Tao (and what Charlie might think) to ask for or suggest anything.
The light had almost faded when Tao gave the next order. “Okay, get back to how you started, yeah. Charlie, back to Nick’s front. Nick, arms around Charlie. Like you mean it. Good, yes, okay, that. Charlie, settle your hands and we’ll take the last ones.”
They moved obediently into position, Nick wrapping his arms around Charlie and breathing in the moment, the scent of Charlie’s hair, the headiness of the nerve-tinged joy he was feeling right now. He felt Charlie’s arms tighten as he lifted his hands to rest each of them again, this time on Nick’s hands. They weren’t holding hands, per se, but it was like when Charlie was playing the drums that time. His hands were on Nick’s, and Nick hoped to god that Charlie couldn’t feel how hard Nick’s heart was pounding in his chest. This was…this was beyond what Nick could have imagined, what it might feel like to actually hold Charlie. Charlie was there and real and was in Nick’s arms. It was manufactured, of course, but Nick wished he could live in this moment forever.
Tao told Charlie to look up at Nick and he did, looking at Nick with a wry expression, shaking his head and barely rolling his eyes in Tao’s direction. Nick sniff-laughed, trying to keep it quiet so that schoolmarm Tao didn’t yell at them again, rolling his own slightly.
“Nick, look at Charlie,” said Tao sternly, looking through the viewfinder.
Nick raised his eyebrows at Charlie, making him laugh, and then gazed down at Charlie’s face as Tao furiously snapped pictures in the dying light. Charlie’s eyes were still amused, and the light in them from his laughter and the light from the ember-glowing were making them appear impossibly, devastatingly blue. Nick almost felt compelled to look away; he was so hypnotised by looking into Charlie’s eyes like this. He was struck by the sudden wonder - for the first time - of what it would be like to…kiss Charlie. That felt - god, that felt even more terrifying than the whole ‘husband’ thing. That word had conjured possibilities of some faceless person, a creation in his mind. But Charlie was here and real and warm and kind and the idea of Nick kissing him was entirely overwhelming. Dizzying.
Heart-stopping.
Nick blinked to give himself the tiniest respite, and then looked back at Charlie’s face. Charlie was just…beautiful. Inside and out.
God, Nick was in trouble.
Notes:
Lemon Blueberry Loaf
Loaf Ingredients:
1 ½ c all-purpose flour
½ tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 c sugar
2 Tbsp lemon zest
¾ c buttermilk
½ c oil of choice (I usually use canola)
2 eggs
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla
1 c fresh or frozen blueberriesSpray a loaf pan (usually 8” x 4”) with baking spray and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and baking powder. In a small bowl, combine the lemon zest and sugar, mixing with your fingers to get the lemon flavour into the sugar. (You can also do this the night before and really get the lemon flavour in by letting it sit.)
Whisk the lemon sugar and flour mix together, set aside.
In another bowl, whisk the buttermilk, oil, eggs, lemon juice, and vanilla. Slowly add the wet ingredients to the dry, mixing until just combined. Fold in the blueberries (like Moira and David Rose) and pour into the prepared loaf pan.
Bake for 60 - 70 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean from the middle of the loaf. Cool in the baking pan on a wire rack for 20 minutes, loosening the sides with a knife as it cooks. Carefully remove the loaf and let it cool completely on a wire rack before icing.
Lemon Glaze:
1 c powdered sugar
2 Tbsp fresh lemon juiceCombine the powdered sugar and lemon juice with a whisk. Pour over the cooled loaf.
Chapter 14: Fires
Summary:
Last Time: Elle and Tao visited, and Tao’s ensuing photoshoot cements how strongly Nick feels about Charlie.
This Time: Sarah Motha-F*cking Nelson is back at Lavender Fields, among others.
Notes:
I love writing this fic because I love getting to tell this story and love love and love healing and discovering and blah blah blah but I REALLY love writing this fic because of waveofyou (Narlie Waves) and NellieSayzBork's (As You Are) comments. It is legitimately one of my favo(u)rite part of the week. I love you two!
A side note on Nick's Googles: A lot of websites are imperfect and there is so much information that is sometimes confusing or contradictory (specifically, one of the websites refers to bisexuality as being attracted to men/women, not noting other genders or identities). That is to say, the sites that he looks at in this are not perfect and Nick will continue to discover information as he goes ❤️
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I mean, look at it,” Tao was saying, as enthusiastic as Nick had ever heard him.
Elle looked amused. “I can’t see it, babe,” she said, laughing and pushing the camera a little further away from her face. “I can’t physically look at anything when it’s that close to my face.” She returned the grin that Tao gave her and took the camera in her hands. “Wow,” she said, glancing up quickly at Nick and Charlie, who were both standing a little apart from each other in the kitchen, Nick’s face feeling warm. “These are great pictures of both of you.”
“No, Elle, the backdrop,” said Tao, exasperated. He took the camera back and pressed a few buttons to zoom in to the views behind Nick’s shoulder, pointing out how the sun setting in the woods made the woods look as though they were on fire in one particular snap, Nick surreptitiously craning his neck to try to get a glimpse.
“Oh, yes, my mistake,” said Elle, rolling her eyes affectionately at Nick and Charlie, tilting her head at Tao as she stood up next to him, peering back at the camera. “The backdrop and the rule of thirds you capture are far more important than the humans standing in front of us.” She looked back up at Nick for a moment and then back at the image on the screen, an inscrutable and soft look on her face. Nick wanted to see the pictures so badly, but felt awkward…asking to see them. Charlie was hanging back a little, occasionally glancing at Elle as she went through the pictures with Tao, his eyes flicking to the camera in her hands and then back to look at her again.
“You get it,” said Tao distractedly, reaching for the camera again and flipping through the photos. He glanced up, looking briefly at Nick before going back to the images. “I’ll share the folder of these with you in the next few weeks so that you can show your mum and see if she’s interested in opening this place up to some shoots.”
“That’s…yeah,” said Nick, trying to look interested in procuring the pictures. For his mum. Definitely not for Nick.
-
The four of them ended up having a fun night. Charlie was actually able to end up convincing Tao that Tao wanted to watch the Birdcage, and Nick nearly tripped himself in his casual haste to sit next to Charlie on the couch. Elle sitting next to him with Tao on the floor, his back propped against her shins. Charlie nudged Nick in the ribs a few times when Nick was doubled over in loud laughter, grinning back at Nick with that dazzling smile. With Elle and Tao right there, Nick didn’t get too close to Charlie and was very aware of his hands. More and more, he felt the urge to just - touch Charlie. Give his arm a squeeze, gently push at his shoulder at some joke, pulse Charlie’s knee to prove a point that Nick was making. Especially now, after the pictures they took. Nick now knew what it was like to actually hold Charlie, and god, did he want that again.
He did get to hold Charlie again, though it was far more brief than he wanted to, hugging Charlie goodnight after exchanging a quick hug with Elle, too. Nick had moved incrementally and hesitantly towards Tao as well, but Tao gave him the look like a cat showing its belly, the one that said, “Try it and die, motherfucker.” Nick decided that he’d rather not get a set of metaphorical claws to the neck, and instead gave Tao a jaunty salute that made Tao roll his eyes and Charlie stifle a laugh.
The following day, Charlie and Tao went into town to get breakfast and coffee for everyone, Elle having insisted the night before that Nick have a “morning off…ish”, meaning he only had to make breakfast for the three other guests staying at Lavender Fields. The four of them had their own private breakfast without any guests present when Tao and Charlie returned, Nick inhaling the scent of the pastries that Charlie had bought. Nick thought he probably could make pain au chocolat, but had always reasoned that he’d rather spend a few pounds versus invest a few dozen hours into something that would inevitably result in him running flour-dusted fingers through his hair in exasperation. They lingered over breakfast, Elle and (to a lesser degree) Tao regaling Nick with tales of Charlie’s youth.
“Oh, that had to be my favourite thing about Year Four,” Elle was laughing. “That Charlie Spring went an entire year insisting that he was a cat named Ruby during playtime, and made us call him that, too.” Nick was laughing uproariously and Charlie was protesting, all of them giggling as Tao grabbed a nearby spray bottle and threatened to spray Charlie just like a naughty cat when he tried to physically stop Elle from telling the story. “He even used to rub his cheek against the fence and even made the teacher-”
“And that’s enough,” said Charlie, finally succeeding in clapping a hand over Elle’s mouth. Nick laughed again and Charlie released Elle, Elle giving him a playful hug of apology. Even Tao was grinning.
“Elle,” said Nick, shaking his head in sheer joy, still brushing the tears of laughter out of his eyes. “Thank you for the gift that you just gave me. Charlie, I wish you had told me; I would have set up a bed by the heater and gotten you one of those little toys with a feather you could chase around if I had known it would make you happy.” Elle laughed and Tao snorted, and Charlie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t get rid of the grin. “Maybe that would make you less…catatonic.”
“...I hate everything,” said Charlie, burying his face in his hands, the tips of his ears an adorably bright red.
Tao smirked. “Such cat energy.” Nick laughed and Tao looked over sharply, then perhaps got close to smiling, though it disappeared quickly. He stood and pulled out his phone, looking at the time. “Elle, we need to head back soon. Charlie, you’re coming back this morning too, right?”
Charlie nodded and Elle looked at Tao, the amusement still on her face. “I’m packed,” she said. “I’ll settle up with Nick and meet you upstairs in a minute?”
Tao agreed, and he and Charlie headed upstairs to get their things together to head back to London. Elle followed Nick to the office and handed him the credit card, Nick applying a 50% discount this time. He’d furtively transfer the rest of the booking money into the Lavender Fields account from his own later that day. Nick emailed Elle the receipt and checked to make sure she had received it before the two of them headed back into the dining room. Elle opened her rucksack and put away her wallet, removing a few of the drawings that she had completed the day before by the gazebo to organise them and place them back in her bag without the risk of them creasing.
“Wow,” said Nick, admiring her work as she tapped the papers to stack them into a neat pile. “Those are gorgeous.”
Elle smiled at him before tucking everything away. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s so beautiful here on this property. I’m so glad that Tao and I were able to come down.”
“Me, too,” said Nick, meaning it. He loved when Charlie had gotten to know the Badgers, and he equally enjoyed getting to meet Charlie’s friends.
“I’m glad Charlie came here, too,” said Elle, tilting her head slightly and fixing Nick with a soft look. “Just him being here in general is good, I think. You know, being away for a bit, from…everything that happened.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick, not really knowing what he was agreeing with, but agreeing with the general sentiment. A lot.
“It’s nice to see Charlie take some time for himself,” said Elle. “Take time to reconnect with himself - like, rediscover himself, you know?” Nick nodded mutely, but Elle didn’t seem to require a response. “And discover some new things, too,” said Elle. She looked out the window towards the gazebo and marsh and then back at Nick. “I’ve never seen him quite this happy in a while. He smiles more now.” She looked at Nick again
Nick felt like his tongue was frozen. “Oh?”
“Yes,” said Elle. “It’s like - he seems more comfortable with himself. More of himself, too. Like he’s finding out more of who he is.” She paused. The look she was giving Nick now made him feel utterly exposed, like she could see all of Nick, inside and out. “Discovering new sides of yourself as an adult is hard sometimes. You’ve lived your whole life one way, and you think of yourself in the world in certain ways. It’s easier for your brain,” she said, smiling gently. “Schemas. Are you familiar with that term?”
“Er, maybe?” said Nick. It was one of those words that he knew he’d heard before, but probably didn’t actually know what it meant. Like when anyone said the words ‘capital gains tax’. “I feel like I remember a team psychologist doing a presentation on it once. It’s like…patterns?”
“Exactly,” said Elle kindly. “Our brains have these preconceived notions for how it understands new information. And those are built from past experiences, so they can be really self-perpetuating. They’re hard to change,” she said thoughtfully, nodding a little. “Even when our brains get contradictory information, it can be hard to change old patterns and beliefs. Sometimes we carry beliefs around, unknowingly, even the ones that don’t serve us anymore. But it’s easier on our brains to rely on old patterns instead of forming new ones.”
Nick nodded, trying to think of something intelligent to say. It was like Elle was describing his brain for the last few weeks - stubbornly insisting that Charlie was a friend, that it was just banter, innit, that his feelings for Charlie must fit into the schema that his brain had built. His thoughts were swirling, considering how staggered he had been of late, thinking of all of the realisations in his own life.
“So, it’s hard,” Elle continued. “And I know it’s been hard for Charlie, hard to reimagine who he is.” Elle shook her head, a combination of fondness and regret on her face. “And to see who he can be if he’s allowed to take up as much space as he wants.” She looked at Nick again, Nick feeling his stomach clench at the feeling of her light brown eyes, even though there was nothing but gentleness there. “I think he’s found that space here.”
Nick’s throat tightened unexpectedly and he swallowed hard. Elle was speaking at him and to him and about Charlie and about Nick and it was kind and too much. “I’m…It’s been - he’s been - it’s been nice to have him here for me, too.”
Elle nodded, but didn’t respond directly to his words. “It’s hard to rediscover yourself, or discover new things,” she said. “It’s work. But then you find these new little layers and nuances and confidences about yourself,” she said, nodding like she was affirming it for herself, too. “It’s hard,” she repeated. “It’s also important.”
Nick felt like he should respond, but he didn’t know how to. Fortunately, Elle carried on, her voice smooth and warm.
“There are always new things to discover if we let ourselves, new ways to be the biggest people that we can be,” said Elle with a gentle smile. “And life gets so much richer and brighter when we let ourselves be our full selves.” She laid a warm hand on Nick’s forearm and gave him a quick squeeze before picking up her rucksack and leaving the dining room, headed up the stairs to presumably check on Tao.
Nick watched her go, and let out a shaky breath. She - Elle knew. She knew. She was talking about Charlie, and she was talking about Nick. Her eyes had followed him throughout the weekend; he had felt her gaze during the movies and during breakfast, when Nick and Charlie had bustled around the kitchen to get the coffee and tea ready both mornings without even exchanging a word about it. He’d felt her look at him and Charlie as the four of them had gone for a walk on Saturday morning, Nick and Charlie giggling at some stupid pun that Nick had made earlier that week. And in the few seconds that Elle had seen the pictures of them, the pictures that Nick wanted badly to see, it must have been unmistakably clear, the way that Nick was head over heels for Charlie Elvira Spring. Yes, he did need to learn Charlie’s actual middle name eventually, but Elvira would do nicely for now.
She must have seen the way that Nick mooned at Charlie as they danced around each other fluidly in the kitchen. She had definitely seen how Nick’s face had fallen when he hadn’t gotten to sit next to Charlie. She absolutely must have seen how Nick tripped after Charlie on that walk like a clumsy puppy, unaware of his feet. And then her seeing the pictures…Nick could only imagine what his face looked like. He had occasionally (always) been rinsed by his Badgers teammates that he would lose his shirt and more in poker, with his inability to disguise his emotions. Nick could only suppose it had been written all over his face, and Elle - her eyes trained to look out for her friend Charlie (especially after what he had gone through) - had seen that Nick was done. Over. Buried under several deep layers of being in like with Charlie.
Nick sucked in a breath, trying to steady his nerves at the idea of someone else knowing that he liked Charlie - especially someone close to Charlie and in his life. This was - this was different from secretly liking Charlie in his brain. It felt intimidating and nerve-wracking and edged with fear. Though Elle had been so kind and careful in her words. It was like she was letting Nick know that it was scary, and that was okay. It was scary and it was hard and it was…worth it. What was it she said? That thing about being a fuller self?
In the last few weeks, that knotted, tension-filled mass in Nick’s chest had loosened, like a few of the strings pulling at his skin and making it feel too small had been cut since he had started being honest with himself about how he felt about Charlie. It almost felt like Nick could stand up straighter now, or like he was able to take deeper breaths. He felt…more. Just like Elle had alluded to.
Nick took another deep, steadying breath, smoother this time. Elle knew. She knew. And maybe…that was okay.
-
After Charlie, Tao, and Elle left, Nick spent some time first reflecting on his last, lingering hug with Charlie and then thinking a bit more about what Elle had said. She had been talking about brains and schemas, and he thought back to his conversation with Amy. She had been brilliant, messaging Nick often and checking in on him, calling when she could. Nick was truly lucky to have a friend like her. She’d encouraged him that first week to “spend time in the like”, just sitting with his feelings about Charlie. Nick had, and it had confirmed what he suspected, of course. He liked Charlie. He liked Charlie so much. Now that he knew that (and truly believed it to be true), he felt a little less panicky about trying to figure out a little bit more, inch by inch.
He opened his laptop, clicking open an Incognito window. He didn’t really have to do that since he was the only one who used the computer, but it was an old habit he’d kept when looking up anything salacious. Speaking of - well, Nick wasn’t quite ready to think about watching…other…kinds of porn, but that was a habit he’d kept on incognito windows, too. He ended up finding a page called ReachOut Australia, one of the first hits when he Googled, “How to figure out your sexuality.” Nick thought briefly of Danny again, looking at the Australian site. He and Danny had talked too, but mostly over their group chats - both the team one and the one that Nick had with Danny and James. Nick wasn’t quite…ready. He still felt he wasn’t…real. He didn’t want to talk to Danny until he was real. He and James would be there in just about three weeks, along with Amy, Seamus, Regan, and hopefully Charlie too.
Nick scanned the website, his gaze landing on one particular paragraph.
Your sexuality isn’t defined by who you have sex with – it’s about how you feel and how you choose to identify yourself. The important thing is that you choose what label feels comfortable, or you choose no label at all. You might find, like many others have, that the label you choose changes over time.
“No label at all,” Nick read out loud, quietly, snorting a little after he said it. Easy for you to say, you dumbass website, Nick thought. You’re a website; you don’t know what it’s like to want to know what you are. You’re just stupid collection of…code and letters, or whatever a website is. He went on reading, skipping past that part to get to the labels. He pondered the “bisexuality+” label, intrigued by the plus. It went on to say that bisexuality, like most sexuality, was a spectrum in itself, and some people used pansexuality and bisexuality interchangeably, but not everyone did. He furrowed his brow, maybe even more confused now.
Nick clicked around a bit more and then returned to Google, eventually landing on a page from lgbthero titled, “Busting Bisexuality Myths”. He scanned through the bullet points, his breath quickening a little as he read what appeared to be his own thoughts written magically on this website.
- Myth: People who consider themselves to be bisexual are actually heterosexual, but they are simply experimenting or trying to be trendy.
The website explained this as a form of prejudice, which Nick felt surprised by. He read on, the rest of the paragraph noting that this myth was a common argument used to “invalidate” people who were bisexual. Nick could feel the overwhelm prickling at the back of his mind processing this new language and these statements, but it didn’t feel as smothering as it had been a few weeks ago. He read more of the myths, shaking his head a little at how many of the statements spoke to him as thoughts that had hammered around his brain for the last few weeks.
- Myth: Politically speaking, bi people betray the cause of lesbian/gay liberation. They pass as heterosexual to avoid trouble and maintain heterosexual privilege.
- Myth: Only women are bisexual.
- Myth: Bi people are equally attracted to men and women.
That last one gave him a special pause, and Nick hovered over it. The paragraph dispelling the myth noted that few if any bisexual people had a true 50/50 split of who they were attracted to. It noted that many people did not have an equal or set split, and that attraction to one person of the same gender was just as valid as being attracted to that gender consistently. Nick sat with that, a moment. He’d of course come across the term bisexual and it had crossed his mind with this whole gay panic thing he’d had going on, but he’d always assumed real bisexual people had - yeah, that 50/50 split. About half of who they liked were men, and about half were women, and so it was really clear when someone was bisexual. As for Nick, he liked…Charlie. He had liked women, and now, as Amy said, he also liked Charlie. That had been throwing him off. Could he be truly, actually bisexual if he liked mostly one gender - but then also maybe one person of another gender?
Nick took another long look at those words, reading them again before shutting his laptop. There was that word he’d come across several times in the websites he was looking at - valid. He thought of that word as he moved to complete his chores. All of the websites he had landed on this time seemed to be much more calming and soothing than the last time he had Googled, though whether that was a function of what he was looking at or the different state of his brain, he wasn’t sure. And they were so…affirming. Was that the right word? That made him think that maybe…maybe Nick was real. Maybe whatever he was feeling for Charlie was real and was…valid. And yes, that stupid pedantic, “Don’t worry about labelling yourself! 😄😄😄” website had said he didn’t need to label himself, but Nick so, so wanted to.
It was Charlie, yes, but it was also the summation of all of the memories that had come up for Nick in the last few days. Ethan, Rhys, movie characters, random cologne models he had seen. Maybe Charlie wasn’t the only man he’d ever been attracted to. Regardless, he was the one who Nick was attracted to now. So deeply attracted to.
Bisexual.
That was…
That was something to think about.
-
The wait for Charlie was immeasurably easier this time, largely because his mum was getting in Monday afternoon, and then Charlie would be there just a day later, on Tuesday night. God, Nick could not wait to get to see the two of them together. Nick had been a little nervous about introducing Charlie to the Badgers (he just wanted them to like him so badly), but he had no such qualms about Charlie meeting Sarah. Sarah would absolutely adore him, possibly even forsaking Nick and leaving him to glumly chew cud in the barn with the girls as she doted on her new adopted son.
Nick practically bounced around the house Monday as he waited for her to get in. In her honour, he made a tray of brownies. On one of his holidays from secondary school, Nick and his mum had spent the better part of a cold, rainy week tinkering with brownie recipes to find the perfect one. He jumped from task to task, constantly interrupting what he was doing, pulling out his phone to check a message from Charlie or message him back. He sent Charlie a picture of the brownies, who responded with a heart eyes emoji. Nick promised that Sarah would make something just as delicious for Charlie when he arrived, and Nick laughed at the barrage of emojis that Charlie sent back, including the drooling face, croissant, and fork and knife emojis, as well as an open hand emoji and a fist emoji over and over. When Nick had asked about those, Charlie had explained that it was a grabby hand, making Nick laugh out loud. God, he missed Charlie when he was gone.
On Monday afternoon, Nick paced impatiently, timing Sarah’s arrival. He had said he was happy to pick her up at Heathrow, but Sarah said that a friend in London had offered her a car for the fortnight and that she was happy to drive herself. He killed time as best as he could, wandering down to the barn to tell the girls that Sarah would be there so soon and not to be too impatient - that Sarah was moo-ving as fast as she could. When Nick finally saw the car swinging into the drive, he bolted to the porch, throwing open the door and rushing to meet his mum at the car, sweeping her into a long, emotional hug, both of them a bit of a mess. Nick loved his mum - of course - but this time was even more special than normal. He had missed her so much, and he tried to pour all of that and more into his hug.
By the time they released each other, both Nick and Sarah were teary messes, and Nick brushed his eyes with the back of his sleeve before taking her bags, insisting on carrying all of them at once instead of admitting defeat and making multiple trips. They came briefly into the house, Sarah exclaiming in delight at the brownies, snatching one from the plate and eating it as she and Nick immediately headed down to the barn. There was a cacophony of mooing and cooing as Sarah saw her girls, rubbing both of them behind the ears and telling them that she herd they were such, such good girls behaving for her sweet baby Nicky.
After a prolonged, cuddly visit, Nick and his mum made their way back to the house, Nick proudly pointing out some of the small improvements and repairs that he had made while Sarah was gone. He silently preened at her praise, feeling chuffed that she was proud of him. He never doubted it, but there was still something so affirming about her approval.
Back in the house, Nick put on the kettle and they settled down with a cup of tea each, as well as another brownie apiece, sitting across from each other in the warm dining room and smiling.
“Baby,” said Sarah, shaking her head like she couldn’t contain her affection for Nick. “I’ve kept half an eye on the booking numbers and the ratings. You’ve done so well, darling.”
Nick smiled, feeling like his whole chest was glowing. “Thanks, mum,” he said. “It’s been great, honestly. It’s also been so much work.” He fixed her with a stern and loving look. “I cannot believe you’ve done this for so many years with no break. Now that I’ve seen it from this side, I have no idea how you did that.”
Sarah laughed lightly and reached across to squeeze his hand. “It’s a lot of work,” she agreed. “But it’s also so lovely, isn’t it?”
Nick thought of Charlie, always-on-his-mind Charlie. “It is,” he said. “And it’s worth it, yes.” He smiled at her. “But go on, tell me everything from the last few weeks!” They had a weekly catch-up session and had a Google photos album where Sarah uploaded her pictures of travels and Nick uploaded pictures of the farm, but it was entirely different getting to show one another their phones, each picture devolving into a story.
Sarah had shown Nick several pictures and videos of the bubbling mud pots in Yellowstone National Park in the States and Nick had laughed aloud at the blorping, disgusting-looking boiling mud, feeling like he was twelve years old again. Nick was now swiping through his phone, showing Sarah pictures of the day last week that he and Charlie had found old canisters of spray-on temporary hair dye and had decided to decorate Nellie and Henry a bit. Nick had painted the Badgers seal on Henry’s rump and Charlie had rainbowed Nellie’s, the two of them giggling the entire time. Charlie had posted that on his Insta and gotten several hundred likes, tagging Nick and Lavender Fields. Guests asked about it all of the time now, always disappointed when Nick explained that the cheap dye had flaked off in less than a day.
“Oh, darling, I remember seeing that picture on Insta,” said Sarah, laughing. “I had intended to message you and threaten to call the RSPCA but then I ended up meeting some lovely people at the campsite next to mine and got a bit too tipsy and forgot.”
Nick blanched a little, thinking of the suggestive eyebrow that Charlie would have thrown him at Sarah’s statement. He chuckled. “They were good sports,” said Nick. They really had been. It might have been the fresh flake of alfalfa that Nick had put down, the girls happily munching and largely ignoring whatever Nick and Charlie were doing near their backsides.
“How has Charlie been?” asked Sarah. “I know he’s ended up staying a bit longer than he anticipated, has that gone all right?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, looking at his mum’s warm eyes. He felt a sudden urge to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her about how Charlie was making him feel like a new person. Nick wanted to tell her how confused he had been and the questions that were still swirling in his mind. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and cry to her about how agonisingly hard and terrifyingly good the last few weeks had been. Nick didn’t know how to do any of that, though. Opening up any of those would release the whole dam, and Nick didn’t yet know a way to do that without drowning. His chest ached with affection and secrets and happiness that he wasn’t quite ready to expose.
“It’s honestly great,” said Nick, in the single biggest simplification that had ever occurred on Earth. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
“I feel like I already have in some ways,” mused Sarah, sipping her tea and giving Nick a gentle smile. “From what I’ve heard about you, I think we’ll get along like a house on fire.”
And of course they did.
Nick and his mum had a truly fantastic evening on Monday, spending time with one another and cooking together. It was a different type of seamless synchronicity than it was with Charlie - one that was like a warm, smooth leather chair, comfortable and familiar. With Charlie, the air crackled. With his mum, the air embraced him in scents and memories of being home with her. They had an equally good time Tuesday, spending as much time with the girls as the weather would allow them, and then going into town for a bit for Sarah to catch up with her old friends while Nick did a bit of shopping for the week, accidentally “forgetting” a few things so that the Friday trip with Charlie was still a necessity.
Sarah had firmly insisted on making dinner that evening for him and Charlie, and Nick was torn between leaning on the counter and chatting with her and pacing in the dining room, sneaking glances at the window to watch for Charlie’s headlamps turning into the drive. He settled for staying in the kitchen, drifting towards the doorway that let him keep a line of sight to the front, looking over so often his mum asked about his neck twitch. It was like music, watching her work in the kitchen. Everything Nick had learned about food and taking care of others was from her, and it was like love flowed through her hands and actions as she mixed the potato and flour with egg, getting the gnocchi to the perfect consistency.
Nick jumped up when he saw the faint light from the street, getting brighter as the car got closer to the house. He couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he slid off the counter. “Charlie’s here, mum,” he said by way of explanation, and Sarah smiled at him.
Nick hurried outside and met Charlie at the car, sweeping him into a brief, tight hug, nearly lifting Charlie off his feet and beaming as he set Charlie down, Charlie laughing in surprise.
“Christ, Nicholas, I know you’re strong, no need to prove it,” he laughed, pushing slightly at Nick’s chest.
Nick laughed, too. “Come onnnn,” he whined, throwing open Charlie’s back door and grabbing his bag, then tugging Charlie by the sleeve. “Come on come on come on come on, mum’s here!”
Charlie rolled his eyes and laughed again, pretending to dig his heels into the drive. “Nope. I’m like Henry when it snows. Impossible to move.”
“Moo-ve,” Nick corrected, now getting behind Charlie to barrel him forward with his shoulder, Charlie protesting and giggling as he leaned back against Nick.
Charlie gave a deep sigh that was less convincing when it ended in a huffy, suppressed chuckle, and then dropped the facade and followed Nick to the house.
“Mum,” called Nick as he headed into the house and right through to the kitchen, Charlie right behind him, his cheeks now looking a little pink. “This is Charlie!”
Sarah was already drying off her previously-floured hands that she had clearly just washed in anticipation of Charlie’s entrance, fixing him with a broad smile. “Hello, Charlie!” she said, extending her arms and embracing a momentarily surprised-seeming Charlie.
“Oh, hello,” said Charlie with a little laugh, hugging her and then drawing back. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” said Sarah, giving Charlie’s upper arm a squeeze before stepping back and then looking at Charlie’s face. “You have such wonderful blue eyes,” she said, peering admiringly. “They look so bright against that sweater you’re wearing!”
Charlie blushed and Nick snuck a glance. Charlie was wearing a cerulean sweater that made him look even more stunning than normal. “Thanks,” said Charlie, both pleased and embarrassed-looking. “I grew them myself.”
Sarah laughed brightly and Charlie looked even more pleased now. “Oh, you’re lovely, Charlie,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “Nicky speaks so highly of you.”
Now it was Nick’s turn to blush, both because of the intimation that Nick spoke about Charlie to other people (which he did) and because of the nickname.
Charlie gave Nick a smirk, then turned his expression angelic towards Sarah. “Nicky has been a lovely host,” he said seriously, Nick huffing a little.
Sarah didn’t miss it and gave a twinkling laugh at Nick. “I’m allowed to call you whatever I want, baby, do you know how many youth rugby matches I sat through for you?”
Nick laughed. “Fair.”
Charlie went over to the sink, washing his hands. “What can I help with, Mrs. Nelson?”
Sarah turned to Charlie, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want to try that again?” she asked, mock-sternly.
Charlie looked momentarily taken aback, and then cottoned on, blushing again and laughing. “Sorry. Sarah. What can I help with, Sarah?”
Sarah hummed, her hands on her hips. “Well, Nick is getting the pesto ready. We’re absolutely making another pan of brownies tonight, both because you deserve to have them warm and because Nick and I ate or gave away all of them yesterday,” she said with a shadow of a wink, which Charlie grinned at. She nodded at one of the binders, all back on the shelf. “Grab that blue one, dear, and I can tell you where everything is.”
“Oh, Charlie knows,” said Nick off-handedly as he continued to chop the herbs and add them with oil to the small blender, along with pecans.
Sarah tilted her head but said nothing, and Nick glanced up a few times to see Sarah looking in surprise at how Charlie moved around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients, skillfully staying out of Sarah’s way and dodging her and Nick smoothly when needed.
“Which one of these do I use?” asked Charlie, holding up the waxed paper and the baking paper.
Sarah smiled and pointed to the baking paper. “That one, darling. You can use baking paper in the oven safely. You can also use wax paper in the oven too if the thing you want to make is a fire.”
Charlie laughed and Nick chuckled to himself, grinning stupidly as he watched the two of them in the kitchen. It was brilliant to have the two of them together, even if Sarah’s delight in telling embarrassing stories about Nick was only matched by Charlie’s unbridled glee at hearing them. She had started to tell Charlie of Nick’s brief fling with ventriloquism and his ventriloquy doll named Gareth, Nick turning on the blender on maximum speed to drown out that particular reminisce, turning it on over and over every time Sarah tried to start it again, all three of them laughing.
They sat down to dinner and started to eat. Charlie took a bite and made a soft sound that made the back of Nick’s thighs feel like they were melting.
“Sarah, this is so good,” said Charlie, nodding appreciatively and closing his eyes for a moment. “How did you learn how to make gnocchi?”
“Thank you,” said Sarah warmly, looking pleased at Charlie’s reaction. “I actually learned how to make gnocchi when I visited Italy near the start of my trip,” she said.
“Did you take a cooking class?” asked Nick, who couldn’t recall.
“No,” said Sarah. “I met a friend who taught me how to make gnocchi and a few other things when I was travelling.” Nick frowned. Was there a pause before the word friend? No, right? No, there was no way. Then he looked over at Charlie, whose lips were turning up in a mischievous grin, like that scene of the cartoon Grinch plotting how he was going to destroy Christmas joy, much like how Charlie was going to destroy Nick’s joy.
“A friend?” asked Charlie innocently, turning his face beatific again as he looked at Sarah.
“I USED PECANS,” said Nick loudly. “Instead of pine nuts? In the pesto.”
Sarah blinked and then nodded, giving Nick’s hand a little pat. “It’s delicious, love,” she said, Charlie nodding in agreement and then shooting Nick a look at least thirty-one times more nefarious than any of the portrait people had ever given him. Nick pressed his lips together and shot Charlie a joking warning look, Charlie suppressing a silent giggle as the conversation went on.
It was like that all week - a mix of warmth, delight, menace, and joy. Charlie asked Sarah for an “original Nelson Lavender Fields innkeeper” tour which made Sarah beam with pride and Nick roll his eyes fondly. She’d told him some of the same stories as Nick, but added quite a few Nick had forgotten or was unaware of. She stopped lovingly at the cursed family of glass-encased photographic evil, fondly telling Charlie about each of the subjects. Charlie had sent Nick a pleading, get me out of here look that Nick had smugly raised his chin at, laughing when Charlie mouthed you are dead to me when Sarah was looking away.
They made and had dinner together Wednesday and Thursday, and Friday evenings as well, Nick and Charlie and Sarah all heading into town Friday afternoon once Charlie was off work to do the errands. The boys dropped Sarah off to do a round of hellos as they completed the chores, Sarah thanking them and Nick reminding her that she was still on holiday. Nick did miss the drive back with Charlie, just the two of them wandering around the roads of England, but he enjoyed this tiny time with two of the people he cared most about in his life.
Saturday ended up being a lovely day, both in terms of company and surprisingly with the weather, too. It was a rare, bearable day in terms of temperature and sun for December, and Charlie announced that he was going to the barn to drum for a bit, giving a warm smile to Sarah and Nick.
Sarah looked puzzled and Nick’s stomach instantly turned to lead. Oh, god. OH GOD. “Drum?” she asked, cocking her head.
“Yes, that set that Nick found in the barn,” said Charlie as he pulled on a warm, thick-fabric sweater that he had brought down with him, his voice a little muffled as the neck of the sweater got caught on one of his ears.
“Drums,” repeated Sarah, looking now utterly baffled. “I’ve-” She caught sight of Nick’s face, which probably looked white, which made sense because all of the blood had run out of his body in panic. He shot her a desperate, pleading look with a tiny shake of his head, and she immediately stopped herself. “I’ve…forgotten all of the things we have in there,” she said as Charlie popped his head out of the sweater, looking flushed from his woollen fight. Nick wanted to smooth down Charlie’s hair with his fingers. He also wanted to die a little bit.
“I’m going to go listen for a bit and do some chores,” said Nick hurriedly, following Charlie out the door, grabbing his coat as he left. He wasn’t ready to face…whatever conversation might end up happening. He glanced back to see a curious, keen look on his mum’s face as she watched him go, the expression immediately softening to a smile as she nodded him out the door.
Nick took a deep breath as he caught up to Charlie, Charlie giving him a grin as they walked to the barn. Without even looking back, Nick could feel Sarah’s eyes on them as they went. Jesus. Could women in his life stop perceiving him for one goddamn second?
-
“Where are you off to again, mum?” asked Nick, seeing Sarah pull on her coat. She had mentioned that she was going to be gone for the evening, but he couldn’t recall what her plans were. He and Charlie were in the parlour on the couches, where Nick realised that they’d been chatting for over an hour, looking now at the time.
“Several of the vendors in town are having a get-together for me,” Sarah explained. “A little ‘Welcome back!’ gathering.”
“That’s nice,” said Nick, smiling and meaning it. “What - did that just come up after your visit in town yesterday?”
“Oh, no, darling, we have a group chat and have been planning on it for a few weeks,” said his mum.
“Are you all going anywhere fun?”
“It’s casual,” said Sarah. “It’s over at one of the shopkeeper’s homes - Mark’s.”
Nick choked on his tea and Charlie made a strangled noise somewhere between a squeal of delight and a hastily-muffled cough. Nick shot him a warning look that Charlie returned with a smile so broad Nick could see the corners of his mouth turn up from behind the cup he was using to hide his lips. “That sounds great, mum,” Nick forced out through gritted teeth. “I hope you have a lovely time.”
“Don’t stay out too late, Sarah,” Charlie called in a teasing tone, shooting another truly malevolent wink at Nick that was too charming for Nick to even start mentally drafting a list of one-liners with which to torture Charlie later.
Sarah laughed and bussed his cheek as she passed. “See you boys soon,” she called, giving a last wave as she left.
Charlie waited until the door closed before turning to Nick, a huge grin on his face. “Nick.”
“Don’t.”
“Nick.”
“Charlie, I will build a tiny sacrificial fire and host a seance to get the portrait people to jam all of your kitchen drawers a little bit for the rest of your life, I swear to you.”
Charlie burst out laughing. “You monster.”
Nick finally let the smile break through. “You’re the monster!” He made his voice a cartoonish version of Charlie’s. “‘Oh, have so much fun, Sarah. Don’t stay out too late, Sarah. Make good decisions, Sarah’. You may as well have handed her a bottle and encouraged her to give it a spin when she got there.”
Charlie laughed again and Nick felt the glow in his chest brighten as it did every time he made Charlie laugh, Charlie acting like he was holding an invisible protest sign. “Let Sarah snog,” he chanted. “Let Sarah snog!”
“Let Nick lose his hearing,” moaned Nick, burying his face in the pillows.
Charlie giggled and the sound again twisted up Nick’s stomach pleasantly. He loved when he was the one making Charlie happy. Charlie deserved to be happy. He thought back to what Elle said - that Charlie seemed happier; that he smiled more. Nick felt a stab of pride that Charlie’s joy could be partially due to Lavender Fields. And maybe Nick himself, too. Nick’s mind drifted back to what Elle had told him. Clearly, she knew. He wasn’t sure how. Maybe it was Nick’s face and the way he knew he always stole glances at Charlie. Maybe it was the goddamn pictures that Tao made them take. But maybe…
Maybe it was from what Charlie had said. That thought made his chest spin with anxiety and wonder. Would Charlie have complained to Elle, telling her that Nick was always watching him? No - Nick had seen the flash of protective anger cross Elle’s face a few times when she had mentioned Ben. If Elle thought Nick was hurting Charlie at all, she wouldn’t have been afraid to say something.
So then…
If it came from what Charlie had said, what could Charlie have said? How did Charlie talk about Nick, when Nick wasn’t around? Now that Nick had opened up to Amy, he’d spent a few of the last phone calls gushing to her about how wonderful Charlie was, how he made Nick feel. Did Charlie - did he say things like that to Elle? Or god, even Tao? That was harder for Nick to imagine, but thinking about Charlie and Elle…
What if Charlie talked about him?
What if Charlie talked about him…like he talked about Charlie?
That was - that was something that was almost too overwhelming for Nick to imagine. Having a crush on Charlie was one thing. Talking to Charlie about his feelings, or the idea of actually, like - being with Charlie… That was another one of those mind-blowing possibilities. It was something Nick had started actually craving, the thought of a life with Charlie like the one that they had now with, just - more. With kissing. And holding Charlie’s hand. And exploring - what other things felt like, too. But it had been a fantasy, even though the word didn’t feel quite right. That vision had been a warm daydream that Nick sometimes let himself get lost in as he did his chores, or one that he let run in various scenarios as he fell asleep. He never really imagined he could actually have that, though. And god, he was getting so ahead of himself. Elle was perceptive. And as much as Nick hated to admit it, he wasn’t always the best at hiding his emotions. That was probably it - Elle picked up on Nick’s goobery face looking at Charlie and clocked his crush. It wasn’t-
“Nick?” Nick blinked. Charlie was looking at him with a puzzled smile. “You there?”
Nick refocused, looking at Charlie and smiling back, pushing those thoughts to a dusty, quieter corner of his mind. “Sorry, spaced out for a second, yeah.”
“I was saying - if you were going to build a tiny sacrificial fire to pray to the almighty people of the portrait, maybe you could build it in the grate?” Charlie grinned at Nick, who laughed.
“You cold, Springtime? Warm the room with your sunny goodness.”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, I am very cold. And I promise, I won’t say anything else about your mum playing Truth or Dare with Mark and being dared to pass a card to him using only her mouth and his mouth if you build a fire. Anything more after the thing that I just said, I mean.”
Nick barked out a loud laugh. He wanted to glare at Charlie, but it was impossible. “Fine, you absolute terror. We can have a fire as long as we pretend that Mark is like a Ken doll, without both feelings and slash or genitals.” This time Charlie burst out giggling, and Nick raised his finger in warning. “But, you have to build the fire this time. I’ll teach you how.”
Charlie gave him a cheeky smile and Nick felt the hollows of his knees fill up with light. “Deal,” he said. “Though making me build fire is somehow homophobic.”
“I know,” said Nick soothingly, in faux-sympathy. “Come on, then.”
They knelt in front of the hearth and Nick talked Charlie through opening the flue, then how to set up the fire itself, stacking the larger logs with smaller logs and piling the kindling loosely in between. They balled up some old paper underneath the grate and Charlie lit the paper, blowing gently. Nick tried not to look at Charlie’s lips, pink and perfect, blowing gently on the fire, the yellow-flame on the paper licking up and then suddenly igniting the kindling.
“I did it!” said Charlie, sounding adorably like Nick might have imagined him in Year Four.
“Yes, you did,” said Nick, leaning back on his hands and grinning. “Well done, you.”
Charlie blushed faintly and sat back on the floor too, admiring the steadily growing fire, his legs crossed and his hands on his thighs. Nick couldn’t imagine being anywhere else on a Saturday night, with anyone else. Being here, in the parlour, the fire in front of him and Charlie beside him, Nick was happy. He was so, so happy.
Charlie hesitated a moment, and then spoke. “So, your mum…”
Nick was not happy any more. “Charlie! You promised!”
Charlie laughed, but it was a little quieter than before. “No, sorry, terrible segue.” He giggled at Nick’s raised eyebrow, and then sobered again. “Just, like - speaking of you salting your mum’s game…” Charlie looked up and gave Nick a shadow of a wink before it faded. “I just - I feel like I’m salting your game, you know?”
Nick didn’t mean to look so taken aback, but he was. He had literally been thinking the exact opposite thing. “What?!” he said, sure the look on his face was incredulous.
Charlie bent his knees and hugged around his legs, looking at Nick from under his soft, dark eyelashes. “I mean - it’s the weekend. And I’ve been here for, what - eight weeks?” Only seven, Nick corrected in his head. “And you - you’re so kind, Nick. You always stay here with me on the weekends. But that means you’re not going out. And not, like - going on dates and stuff.”
Oh. Oh. Nick’s mouth felt especially dry. He swallowed roughly. He desperately wanted both time to think of how to respond and to answer right away to assuage Charlie’s worries. He never wanted Charlie to feel worried about taking up too much space or being a burden, especially not to Nick. That was the priority. “God, Charlie, literally not at all,” he said honestly, shaking his head. “I’ve not even thought of - I’m not…” he trailed off, frustrated with himself. “I’ve been happy,” he said finally, realising just how true it was. He was so happy. Small jabs about his mother shagging a mediocre shopkeeper aside, Nick was happy. He was definitely the happiest he’d been since he left the Badgers, maybe the happiest he’d ever been…and it was because of Charlie. “I haven’t really…” Nick stopped again. It wasn’t true to say that he wasn’t interested in dating. He was. Just - only dating Charlie, really. He struggled to come up with the right words, but couldn’t parse them. It was so soon, it was so much. Saying it would make it real, and Nick was still parsing what and who he was. Like always, Charlie saved him.
“I’ve been happy, too,” said Charlie softly, looking at Nick. He took a breath, and shook his head a little, his voice getting a little louder, less of a whisper that Nick wanted to chase on the air. “But seriously, Nick. I don’t want to hold you back.”
Nick actually laughed this time. “Hold me back? Charlie, you’re what’s been -” He cut himself off abruptly, not even sure what he was going to say. But the idea of Charlie holding him back? Charlie was - an anchor. Not something to hold him back, something to ground him down. Nick felt truly anchored with Charlie around, a feeling that his spinning mind always craved. With Charlie around, he wasn’t in his head as much, this conversation aside. He was more present, felt more purposeful. Charlie, holding him back? The idea was ridiculous. Nick tried at a winning smile to ease the tension that had roiled into the room like the heat off of the fire. “Don’t talk about my friend Charlie like that.”
Charlie grinned, the smile breaking through some of the worry on his face. “You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again and again until you believe it,” confirmed Nick, prompting Charlie to duck his head against his bent knees again, half-hiding the beautiful smile on his face.
“So,” started Charlie, moving the heel of his Converse against the floor, making a barely-audible sound. “What type of person do you usually date?”
Nick’s heart tripled in its rate. Women. But…now… He also knew that wasn’t what Charlie was asking, Nick just felt suddenly desperate that Charlie know. But Nick didn’t even know know who he was quite yet. Nick swallowed again, his stomach fluttering. He tried to keep his voice calm. “I, uh - it’s changed, I think. I’ve dated some certain types of people in the past.” He was keeping his tone as light as possible. “But…” He took a breath. “I don’t know. I feel like - there’s been who I’ve been, like, attracted to in the past. But I think I’ve realised lately - maybe there are other people that I’d end up dating?” He knew he was asking it like a question when it was really a fact, a statement. He took a breath, trying to dislodge some of the heavy, pressing weight of nerves that seemed to physically weigh on his lungs right now.
Nick tried again, trying to even form the words for himself in his brain. “Have you ever been…have you ever been scared to change? Or do something that might…confuse or surprise people? Or even yourself? Like your real personality has been buried inside you for a long time?” He looked at Charlie desperately, like Charlie could help Nick find the words. The right words. The right words for now, at least.
Charlie was looking at Nick intently, the orange and yellows of the fire flickering in his eyes. Charlie took in a breath, and Nick saw his hand twitch just perceptibly. “Nick…” he started to say, his voice soft and wondering.
They both jumped when a sweep of headlamps illuminated the room, a car turning into the drive. Nick already knew that automobiles were one of the things destroying the planet, and at the moment, he vowed to get rid of every vehicle on Earth in retribution for the interruption. He wanted so badly to keep talking to Charlie, keep talking about what he was…feeling. Every time he did, it was like - it was like the words were smoother. Easier. Less jagged as he tried to form them and get them out of his throat. He didn’t know what Charlie was going to ask - if anything - and Nick had no idea what he’d respond to…well, anything Charlie might have wondered.
Nick stood up and stretched, shaking out his knee and ruefully thinking about how his body had changed since he was in his early twenties when his joints were essentially made out of elastic. There weren’t any guests due to arrive tonight, and the two rooms that they had checked in were already both upstairs.
“That must be mum coming back, I’d guess,” Nick remarked, glancing out the window as he took another long, languid stretch. “She must have forgotten something - oh, that’s not her, actually. I’m not sure who that is.” It was a sleek, dark blue Jaguar that had pulled in the drive, and Nick could hear the low thrum of music coming from it.
“No?” asked Charlie, taking Nick’s proffered hand and hauling himself up, laughing when Nick pulled extra hard so Charlie popped up with a little jump. He moved to stand next to Nick at the window, craning his neck and making it look impossibly long. Nick was thinking of what Charlie’s neck could feel like underneath his fingers…underneath his lips …when the colour drained from Charlie’s face. Charlie physically drew back from the window, blindly reaching out, his hand grabbing aimlessly at the hem of Nick’s sweater. Nick looked at Charlie in alarm, startled and anxious about the change in his demeanour.
“Oh god,” said Charlie hoarsely. “That’s…Ben.”
Notes:
Classic Brownies - an easy one to make now that you’re very, very disappointed in me. (Also know that while the next chapter is one of the weightier ones, I will treat these precious babies with a lot of love and gentleness!)
Ingredients:
1 ¼ c sugar
¾ c flour, sifted
⅔ c cocoa, sifted
½ c powdered sugar
½ c dark chocolate chips
¾ tsp. sea salt
2 eggs
½ c oil of choice
2 Tbsp coffee
1 tsp vanilla
Tiny splash of lemon juicePreheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Line an 8” x 8” pan with parchment/baking paper. In a large bowl, mix the sugars, cocoa, flour, chocolate chips, and sea salt. In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs, oil, coffee, and vanilla. Add a tiny splash of lemon juice (¼ tsp or less). Pour the wet ingredients into the dry, and mix until just combined. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 55 minutes Cool completely (or eat with a spoon and burn the shit out of your mouth like I do) before lifting out of the pan by the edges of the parchment/baking paper.
Chapter 15: B. Hope
Summary:
Last Time: Sarah Nelson comes back to Lavender Fields for a week. Someone else arrives to ruin the day.
This Time: B. Hope shows his face at Lavender Fields. Conversations abound.
Notes:
Oh, waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. You two are angels dressed in human clothing who are a constant source of love and joy in my life. Thank for you hyping me up and legitimately keeping me going when I am stressing about finding time to write! I adore you as much as you adore littering this fic with filthy comments. And that's a lot.
A heads’ up that this is one of the heavier chapters. There are a few content warnings for this one: Canon-level assault (non-graphic). There are implications of past emotional abuse, even if it is not recognised. There is also an allusion to drunk driving and Charlie’s history with his eating disorder, though it is not described with any detail in this chapter. Also - gestures generally to B. Hope. Please take care of yourself!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It took Nick’s brain a few moments to catch up.
“Ben?” he repeated. Charlie was still looking out the window, his hand still gripping the hem of Nick’s sweater. Then it clicked. B. Hope. “Ben,” Nick said once more, this time definitively. He moved a little closer to Charlie, looking out the window to see the Jag now parked in the drive, its interior light on. Nick felt entirely upended. It has been such a perfect week with his mum and Charlie. And that conversation with Charlie before that fucker interrupted… Nick had felt like he was inching towards a place where he could talk to Charlie, like properly talk to him. Nick had no idea where it would have gone, but then it was torn away. Now they were both plunged into the knowledge that Charlie’s ex-fiance from just a few months ago was sitting metres away, that moment now feeling like it was a lifetime ago.
Nick could feel a swelling tide of anger filling beneath his ribs, pooling and rising up in his chest, his feet rooted to the floor in leaden fury. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” said Charlie, his voice making Nick turn his head sharply. It was the voice of C. Spring from the last day of September; the Charlie from nine weeks ago. He looked like a shell. Nick hated to see Charlie looking like that again. It rattled him out of his own head and into action.
Nick took a breath and turned to face Charlie, instinctively reaching out his hand and taking Charlie’s. Charlie looked down at their hands and up at Nick’s face, and Nick felt a wave of his feelings for Charlie cool his anger a bit. This wasn’t about B. Hope. It was about Charlie. “Charlie,” Nick said, trying to keep his voice both gentle and directive. “Do you want me to tell him to fuck off? I’ll go out right now and you never have to see him.”
Charlie looked at Nick for a long moment again and it was like his eyes appeared to focus, sharpen. “No,” he said, taking a long and slow, shaky breath. “I think - I think I need to, honestly.” Charlie took another breath and seemed to grow an inch. “He’s been…he’s been trying to get me to talk to him for a few weeks. I need to - I need to do this,” he said, nodding, a mingle of anxiety, dread, and commitment on his face.
Nick gave Charlie’s hand another pulse. It wasn’t holding hands with Charlie the way he wanted, but it was connection. An anchor that Nick hoped he could provide this time. “Can I come to the door with you?”
Charlie looked up at him, his eyes so, so blue as he looked at Nick’s face, flickering between Nick’s eyes briefly. “Yes,” he said, and Nick knew he meant it.
“Okay,” said Nick, giving Charlie’s hand one last pulse before gently releasing it. “Are you…all right? Are you, like, ready for this?”
“Yes,” said Charlie. “No. I don’t know.” He let out a sardonic half-laugh. “Fuck. It’s been…this has been coming, honestly. I haven’t done a good job-” He cut himself off and rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s time. I need to finally do this, I think.”
“Only if you want to,” said Nick. He didn’t want Charlie to have to go through - well, whatever this was. He didn’t want Charlie’s life here at Lavender Fields with Nick to be tainted by the man sitting in his drive.
“I definitely don’t want to,” admitted Charlie, with a sigh. “But I’m going to.” Nick felt a swell of pride for how utterly brave Charlie Spring was and fell just a little deeper for him in that moment.
They went into the dining room, and Nick’s stomach clenched as he saw the shadow of a person coming up onto the porch, their body a flickering movement against the lights that bathed the porch in soft illuminations. Nick was seized by a thought that seemed to take over his brain. Get to him before he gets to Charlie. He opened the door before Ben had a chance to knock or try to get in otherwise, throwing it open to reveal the person who had once held Charlie and chosen to let him go.
B. Hope.
Nick took in the pathetic excuse of a man in front of him. He had seen pictures of Ben on LinkedIn and through his Internet stalking, but it was nothing like seeing him in person. He was annoyingly handsome, with dark hair and prominent cheekbones. He had a trim and athletic build, dressed in dark jeans and an expensive-looking tan suede zip-up over a shirt underneath. Ben took a startled half-step back when Nick wrenched open the door, barely stumbling before he collected himself in an instant, his face adjusting into an unruffled, arrogant picture of supreme confidence. Nick hated him.
Ben’s face shifted again when Charlie, left behind by Nick’s sudden movement to the door, joined Nick, smoothing into an oily-looking smile. “What are you doing here, Ben?” asked Charlie, his voice flat.
“I came to talk to you,” said Ben with a little smile at Charlie, like of course that’s why he was there. He looked at Charlie, drawing his eyebrows together in a look of contrite supplication. “And apologise. I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for.”
Nick could feel the seeping anger in his chest sharpen into a stab. This man was a snake. He was coming here like it was a favour to Charlie, like he was finally acquiescing to Charlie’s petulance just to satisfy him. Nick glanced quickly at Charlie, who hadn’t responded.
Ben did, too, ignoring Nick and shaking his head again with a flirtation-adjacent look on his face as he looked at Charlie. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No,” responded Nick and Charlie at the same time.
Ben looked at Nick, his eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
Nick flexed his arms without meaning to. “I’m Charlie’s friend,” he said, loud and hot. “And I run Lavender Fields.” Nick instantly stepped forward another fraction of an inch, between Ben and Charlie, feeling Charlie’s eyes on him as he did.
Ben gave him another look, seemingly like it was taking him a moment to put it all together. “No you don’t,” he said finally. “It’s some woman. Some older woman.”
The anger in Nick burst into a flash of rage, imagining this twat Googling Lavender Fields to see who might be there to meet him, looking at pictures of his mum online, gauging if “some woman” (who was still young and more amazing than B. Hope ever could be) would stand between him and talking to Charlie. Nick felt Charlie grab his arm, and the sudden pressure reminded him to keep his head and his cool.
“Nick,” said Charlie, barely audibly. Nick took a long breath, trying to again cool the crackling fury smouldering in his chest.
“Well it’s me now,” Nick said shortly, glaring at Ben and imagining his expensive leather shoes poking out of the cow manure pile after shoving Ben unceremoniously in, face-first.
Ben looked at him again disdainfully before looking back at Charlie, his tone once again supplicating and falsely kind. “Come on, Charlie. I have some things to say.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” said Charlie in that same dismissive voice, and Nick gave a tiny nod, so internally proud of Charlie.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Come on, Charlie,” he said, his voice now nearly a purr. Nick could hear the manufactured charm and it turned his stomach. “You have to talk to me. You owe me that, at least.”
A low, involuntary sound tore out of Nick and he took another step towards Ben, Charlie’s grasp tightening on his arm enough to startle him back into awareness and out of his anger again.
“No, Nick,” said Charlie, and Nick looked at him, surprised. “No,” repeated Charlie, more gently this time, giving Nick a soft pulse on his arm. “Fine,” he said to Ben. “Outside. I’ll talk outside for five minutes. And that’s it.” Ben gave a self-satisfied smile and stepped back. Charlie released Nick’s arm and turned to him, speaking quietly. “I can do this,” he said, looking up briefly into Nick’s face before glancing back outside again.
“I know, Charlie,” said Nick, truly meaning it. “I’m - I just…fuck. He’s acting like this is a fucking favour to you. It’s bullshit. But I know you can do this. And I’m here if you need me.”
“I know,” said Charlie, giving Nick a half-smile that he returned. Then Charlie went outside with Ben, closing the door behind him.
There was no way that Nick was leaving the dining room, where he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on what Ben was doing and make sure Charlie was okay. The old door and its single-paned windows were such that Nick could just hear what Ben and Charlie were saying if he stood close. For the first few minutes he dragged himself away from the door, pacing at the far end of the dining room where their voices became indistinct murmurs to give Charlie the privacy that he deserved. Nick stole a glance every few moments outside. Ben’s back was to Nick and Nick caught occasional glances of Charlie’s face, which had ranged in emotions, beginning with what looked like (undeserved) kindness and patience, transitioning to annoyance and frustration.
On one glance, Nick looked away and then whipped his head back when he saw Ben’s hand reaching towards Charlie’s cheek and Charlie jerking his head away, crossing his arms and stepping back. The simmering rage that had settled in Nick’s chest boiled back up, and he was ready to go outside and beat the everloving shit out of Ben when he stopped himself.
No.
Charlie had said no.
Instead, Nick glared at Ben from the inside of the house, fantasising about sneaking around the back of the house to the barn and setting the girls loose to lightly trample Ben. Nick returned to his pacing, looking sharply back out the window when he realised that Ben’s voice had entirely lost the warm, convincing tones he had started with. He was louder now, and Nick went back to the door to listen, his concern for Charlie crowding out his worries about Charlie’s privacy. Nick pressed himself against the door and listened hard.
“God, I was just doing what I needed to after you were so dramatic,” said Ben, the charm noticeably absent now. “But like I said, I’ll still marry you.” He said it like it was a favour, and Nick wanted to pull Ben’s arms off and slap him with his own hands. “I get it. You were being dramatic, but it was because of the wedding, all that stress.”
“Dramatic?!” Charlie started to exclaim angrily at that, and Ben cut him off.
“Yes, dramatic,” snapped Ben. “Like you always are. You’re dramatic about everything. Me not spending enough time with you. Food. Your friends. God, Charlie, you are so much to deal with sometimes.” Nick’s ribs felt like they were too tight, the swelling fury a band pressing against Nick’s chest at the same time that the anger rose up, making Nick feel like he might actually burst. “You’re lucky I was willing to be with you from the start. And you’re even luckier that I’m willing to be with you now, after you were such a bitch about everything and then fucking ignored me for weeks.” Nick was now nearly vibrating with rage, torn between wanting to hold Charlie, wanting to tear Ben apart, and trusting Charlie to say and do what he needed to.
“I don’t want to be with you,” Charlie said angrily, and Nick wanted to hug him. “Ben, I don’t want to marry you! I don’t want to be around you! You owe me an apology! You owe my family an apology!”
“An apolo-” Ben started to retort, but Charlie - brave, incredible, fully-himself Charlie - cut him off.
“Right, an apology,” said Charlie. “It’s what good people do after they’ve done something terrible? Like telling me the night before the wedding that you didn’t want Olly to be in the pictures?” Nick’s stomach clenched and he tensed the muscles in his arms and hands, listening hard. What the fuck? “That those pictures would be all over the Internet and you didn’t want the aesthetic ruined by, how did you describe him? By ‘a gangly, spotty teenager’ when you’d have to look at them forever? And that I was being selfish and not caring about what you wanted, because you were already compromising by marrying me? That I didn’t deserve you?” Nick became acutely aware of the hard set to his own mouth, and faintly realised he was biting the inside of his cheek. He consciously released his teeth and tried to relax his jaw, but the tension remained. Nick didn’t think he’d relax until Ben was in the next county or trapped behind a frame with the portrait people.
“I didn’t say-”
“You did,” said Charlie, with awful finality. “You were so cruel. And then you said it was over, and that I didn’t deserve to be with you, and you left. And I was crushed.” He paused. “Then I came here. I came here and I met people who were kind and treated me like I mattered. And I spent time with my friends - the friends that you were always too busy to see, that you said were annoying, that we never spent any time with. I remembered how good I feel around them. And after the first few days where I felt like utter shit, Ben, I realised how good I felt not being around you. And how good I feel being with-” Charlie stopped and Nick’s heart pounded in his throat. “With people who think I’m good enough.” Nick’s heart ached at Charlie’s words. This was everything he’d suspected and collected from the tiny hints that Charlie had dropped - that Ben continually made Charlie think he was a burden, that he wasn’t enough. It was also a beautiful, golden confirmation that Charlie knew Nick thought Charlie was good enough; that Nick knew that Charlie was good enough.
Charlie went on. “You came back after a few weeks and there was still that tiny part of me that thought maybe it could work. Then seeing you again, when you got back from your trip…” Nick loved the snideness in Charlie’s voice. He wanted to bottle it and spray it at B. Hope like anti-douche cologne. “When we talked, I realised again how you made me feel so small.”
“That’s such bullshit therapy talk, Charlie.” Ben was scathing, his tone dripping with derision.
“No, it’s the fucking truth!” Charlie shot back. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to be with someone who makes - made me feel the way that you did.”
Ben gave a cruel, dismissive laugh. “You think you’re the one who has any power here, Charlie?” He crossed his arms, and Nick could guess that he was looking at Charlie with utterly misguided mock-concern. “It’s not like anyone’s going to want you, anyway.” Nick felt like his veins were crawling with fire, streaks of white-hot lightning fury pulsating through him at Ben’s vile lies. “Someone like you? Someone who’s desperate? Who’s still not over their eating disorder from when they were a teenager?” His voice was sneering now, and Nick was holding himself back with every muscle in his body. Nick was shaking listening to this. Ben was hurling cruelty after cruelty at Charlie, who had been through so much and had clearly been picked apart by Ben for years, finding the things that truly hurt Charlie and needling away at them. “Who’s needy and exhausting and anxious? Who’s such a bitch about things all the fucking time? Who I can do so much better than? Look at me, Charlie. And look at you.” Nick legitimately thought he might black out, the rage hot and pounding in his temples. He felt sick thinking of the look that would be on Charlie’s face, that same crushed, defeated expression he saw on Charlie’s face when he had arrived at Lavender Fields alone. “Who’s going to think you’re worth being with?”
Nick’s hand trembled on the doorknob, ready to rush out in a moment. If he hadn’t been so tightly pressed to the door, he might have missed what Charlie said, his voice tiny and faltering, but it was there.
“I do,” said Charlie tremulously, in a barely-audible whisper. “I think I’m worth being with.”
Nick closed his eyes softly for a moment, drinking in Charlie’s words like they were cooling water against the inferno that had been burning in his body over the last twenty minutes. God. Yes, Charlie. Yes. The long pause in the conversation made Nick look up and out the glass panes of the door again. Ben was standing in front of Charlie, his arms hanging at his sides, fingers curling in and out, maybe as staggered into silence as Nick was basking in the incredible growth in Charlie, even in just over two months.
“And I don’t want to be with you,” said Charlie, his voice getting a little stronger. “I’m…worth more than how you treated me. I don’t want to see you again. At all. Please leave. We are done, Ben.”
There was another pause, and this time Ben scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”
Charlie looked genuinely confused, like he hadn’t heard Ben properly. “What?”
“You always want me,” said Ben, sounding back to his arrogant confidence, his voice sultry. It was such a departure from Charlie’s energy that Nick felt momentarily disoriented. “I know you want me.” And then he stepped forward, and it was like Nick’s brain stuttered and stopped, experiencing what happened next like flashes - the snapping of photographs, the images frozen in time.
Ben, pushing his body up against Charlie’s.
Charlie’s face, stricken and scared.
Ben pressing harder, pinning Charlie’s shoulder against the wall with his hand.
Charlie, his eyes suprised and fearful, telling Ben to stop.
Ben, surging forward and kissing Charlie.
Charlie twisting and saying no.
Ben drawing back to say something, kissing Charlie again.
The doorknob flashing in his hand, his sweat making it slippery.
Charlie struggling against Ben, pushing him hard.
Charlie, tearing himself away to the side to try to get away.
The door flying open in front of him.
His hands ripping Ben away from Charlie.
Ben, flying backwards across the porch from the force of Nick’s throw.
Charlie, his face in shock, eyes wide at Nick.
Ben, his handsome, arrogant face contorted in anger and embarrassment, staring up at him.
Charlie, a glimpse of his face before Nick stepped in front of him, turning to face Ben.
Slowly, Nick’s brain cooled enough to smooth back into free-flowing time, his breath shaky, his muscles trembling. He was fighting with every ounce of himself to not lunge back towards Ben and go mad with anger, letting his fury out physically. But some tiny part of Nick knew, knew that wasn’t what Charlie needed right now. Nick stepped a little closer to Ben, keeping himself directly between him and Charlie. “He said no. Go on,” Nick growled at Ben, in a voice he didn’t even recognise. “Get in your car and fuck off.”
“Nick,” said Charlie, his voice quavery but strong. Unbroken. “He’s fucking drunk.”
Nick turned his head to look at Ben, still on the ground, resting on the heels of his hands. No wonder he had stumbled when Nick had opened the door. “What the fuck?” Nick snarled. “You fucking drove here drunk?” Nick snatched up Ben’s Jag keyfob, which had flown from his pocket when Nick had grabbed and thrown him away from Charlie. Nick ground his teeth in fury, half-tempted to just tell the piece of shit to drive home and see how it ended up for him. Then he took a half-second to actually consider that he both couldn’t do that with a good conscience and that Ben’s shit-headedness could affect other people. “You’ll sleep it off in the lavender shed,” he said, grabbing Ben’s upper arm and hauling him upright, giving him a shove and pointing towards the shed.
Ben glared at him, not moving, not speaking. “Unless you want me to ring the police now and see if they’re interested in pursuing both drink driving charges and assault,” Nick added, his voice hard. Ben wrenched his shoulder away and stormed in the direction of the lavender shed, Nick watching him go with the key still clutched in his own hand, fuming that Ben had chosen to drive here drunk. Once he was a few paces away, Nick turned to Charlie, the anger ebbing back in a flood of concern.
Nick touched Charlie gently on the upper arm, glad to see Charlie didn’t shy away. “Charlie…” he started, fading out as the heaviness hit him, knowing that the question he was going to ask was objectively stupid in the moment. “Are you okay?”
Charlie looked understandably shaken, but nodded numbly at Nick. “Did you-” Charlie broke off and swallowed. “Did you hear all of that?”
Nick didn’t want to lie to Charlie, ever. “Most of it,” he admitted.
Charlie nodded and took a moment to reply. “Well, now you know,” he said flatly. “Now you know who I chose to be with for three years. You know who I dated. Who I allowed to be in my life and thought I was going to end up with.”
Nick shook his head even as Charlie was speaking. “No, Charlie. No.” He continued to shake his head back and forth, the words not yet coming but needing to convey just how wrong Charlie was. “This is not on you.” He put his other hand on Charlie’s other upper arm and looked at Charlie. “He is not a reflection of who you are, okay? Brilliant, kind, thoughtful, you.” Charlie looked up at Nick, and it killed him to see the surprise in his eyes. If Charlie had never been told that, Nick decided right then that he’d tell Charlie every day. He wanted to stay and talk to Charlie, but first he needed to make sure B. Hope was contained and not poisoning the lavender fields with his presence alone. He sighed. “Listen, I’m going to go throw a camp bed in the lavender shed so that fucker can sleep it off for a few hours before I give him his key back.”
Charlie looked off towards the lavender shed for a moment. “Won’t it be cold in there?”
Nick half-smiled, despite himself. “What did I say about my friend Charlie, yeah? Thoughtful.” There was a blush that crossed Charlie’s cheeks, and for a moment, Nick felt a fraction lighter. “Sadly, I have a space heater in there for when I work in the winter, so he won’t freeze his bollocks off.” He paused. “I can easily break it though.” Charlie sniffle-laughed and Nick gave him another pulse on the arms. “Come on, let’s talk when I get back inside, okay?”
Charlie nodded and Nick wanted to hold him forever, keep him protected against Ben and shitty exes and the world. Not because Charlie was fragile, but because Charlie was precious. A true gem of a person who deserved kindness and joy, not someone who thought Charlie was below them. The anger rose back up and Nick turned away before Charlie thought it was aimed at him, ducking quickly into the barn to get the camp bed, then pacing back to the lavender shed to dump it off with an old, dirty cow blanket without a word, along with a large canteen of water and a sleeve of crackers. He glared at Ben as he turned on the space heater, cocking his head to the side and gesturing broadly after he did in a sneering, you’re welcome gesture.
Nick held up the Jag key, dangling from his middle finger. “You’ll get this back in a few hours, you piece of shit.” He closed his hand except for his middle finger, keeping it aloft and holding it up to Ben before turning and slamming the door of the lavender shed harder than it probably deserved. Whatever. He’d have to take one of the portrait people and a shit-ton of sage in there tomorrow to try to somehow cross-cancel and cleanse the shrivelled sultana of B. Hope’s spirit from its walls.
Nick hurried back to the house, not wanting to leave Charlie alone a moment longer than he needed to. Nick went back in, locking the front door and checking the back, flipping on the motion-activated lights both on the porch and the back of the house. If Ben left the lavender shed (or if his mum came back early), Nick would know.
Nick finished those tasks and rushed to the parlour, where he saw Charlie huddled against the arm of the couch, his knees drawn up in his chest and his head in his hands. Nick could see the shake of his shoulders and didn’t think, moving immediately to sit next to Charlie, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s body. Charlie jumped, and Nick cursed himself for being so stupid, grabbing Charlie after what just happened with Ben. Charlie looked up and then turned his body fractionally to face Nick, burying his face in the space between Nick’s head and shoulder.
Nick held Charlie as he cried, his own nerves still too jangled and loud to let go himself. Nick didn’t speak, just letting Charlie have a few moments, holding Charlie close and occasionally rubbing his thumb over the spot on Charlie’s back where his left hand had landed. After a couple of minutes, Charlie’s breath began to slow, and he took a deep sigh, sitting back up a little as he wiped at his eyes with the cuffs of his sweater. He didn’t pull away from Nick, and Nick cautiously removed his left arm, keeping his right arm around Charlie, Charlie still tucked in close to Nick’s right side. Charlie sighed again and closed his eyes, resting his head against Nick’s chest and shoulder. Nick waited, and then gently laid his cheek on Charlie’s head. Charlie just moved in closer, and Nick closed his eyes, letting the affection and care for Charlie wash through him. Nick thought he had been “living in the like” with Charlie, but this was another staggering moment of realising how deep his feelings for Charlie ran. Nick could feel the care and concern and fondness he had for the man next to him flowing like a salve in his veins, soothing the anger that had boiled there.
“It started as a hookup,” said Charlie, the movement of his head as he talked bumping Nick’s slightly. Nick raised his head up, but didn’t move otherwise. Charlie stayed where he was, his body close to Nick’s and his head against Nick’s chest, his face away from Nick’s. “We actually worked together to start,” Charlie said softly. “That was how it happened. A drunken night out. I was out with my friends from work and he was out with his. No one knew he dated men at that point, at least no one at work. And I felt so lucky when it was just the two of us later that night, and we hooked up.” Nick didn’t even want to breathe, not wanting to spook Charlie. Charlie had never really shared much about Ben, and Nick wanted him to have the chance to let it out, as much as he didn’t want to hear it.
“He wouldn’t look at me in the hallways,” said Charlie quietly. “He pretended like he didn’t know me, even. But we kept hooking up. And I remember how I felt so special. So - chosen. I felt like he was probably going through a lot, you know? Figuring out his sexuality, and I was the one person he felt safe with.” Charlie gave a half-hearted shrug, his shoulder moving under Nick’s right arm, still wrapped around Charlie. “I thought that was probably part of why he was so closed off. Like it was a self-protective thing, I guess. And I knew how lucky I was that someone like him would have anything to do with someone like me.” Nick’s stomach turned at that, and he fought the urge to interrupt Charlie, to tell him how wrong that was. “He always made me feel like he was too hot for me. Too rich. Too handsome. I was broken and needy and annoying, and for some reason, he tolerated me.” Charlie sighed again. “He told me that once, you know. That I was lucky he ‘tolerated’ me. One night when he was drunk.” Nick swallowed down his anger again, giving Charlie a pulse with the arm still around him instead.
“I don’t really know how it changed over to something more, like, serious,” said Charlie reflectively. “I told you we were together for three years; Ben might have said something more like two.” His voice dropped a little, a tiny waver in it. “It was a secret for so long. I felt like I was a secret for so long. I kept a lot from my friends and my family. I lied to people - or maybe not lied, but, like, hid things. I only told them about the good things he’d do, and never the parts that made me feel like shit.” Charlie sighed again. “He changed companies a few months into whatever was happening between us, and maybe that was the start of it. New people there, a gay VP. Maybe he thought it would, like, help him in his career. Or maybe it was because no one else could stand him and put up with him,” Charlie said with a bitter half-laugh. He paused. “I asked him that today. I asked him why he ever wanted to marry me if I didn’t deserve him the way he said I didn’t deserve him.”
Nick tried to speak, but his voice caught. He tried again. “What did he say?”
“He said it was because he knew I’d always be there. That I was the thing he could always count on.”
Nick made an angry noise of half-committal. “The thing he could always count on,” he said, clenching his jaw.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, with another humourless laugh. “But honestly, I can see why he thought that.” Charlie took a slow breath and tucked in even tighter to Nick, Nick wrapping his arm more securely around Charlie. “I was that, for so long. I was there, even when I shouldn’t be. I remember once, maybe a year ago. He hadn’t wanted me to go out with him one night when he was with his friends. I told him that it hurt my feelings and that I wanted to be with someone who wanted to be with me, not just put up with me. He said he was the only one who was going to put up with me, and to take what I got since god knows who else would be willing to put up with how needy I was.”
Nick took a slow breath in and exhaled even longer, feeling the unsteadiness of the air as it left his nose, the smothering anger trying to rise into his throat again. “That’s fucking bullshit, Charlie. You-”
“I know,” said Charlie quietly. “Then the thing with Olly happened. There had been all of this stuff with the wedding the whole time - him being annoyed with me, him making it small, him making it seem like it didn’t matter. Like whatever I wanted didn’t matter. And the whole time, I felt like I was torn between wanting to be married and be appreciated and be with this person that I’d ached to want me for so long and then knowing…” Charlie paused. “Knowing that he didn’t make me happy.” His voice caught a little on the last word, and Nick could hear the emotion in his throat.
“I knew he didn’t make me happy,” Charlie continued, his voice constricted. “But I believed him when he said that he was the best I’d ever do.” There was another long moment before Charlie spoke again. “I was just so happy to be loved. Even if it didn’t look the way I hoped. I just figured that…that maybe that was how it was. You get your ‘good enough’. I thought I had my good enough,” he finished, the words grinding despair into Nick’s heart.
Nick took a moment to compose himself, purposefully breathing and returning to the affection he felt for Charlie instead of letting the anger boil back up. He drew back slightly, touching Charlie’s cheek in a feather-light touch with his left hand to get Charlie to look at him before dropping his hand again. “Oh, Charlie,” Nick started, his voice wavering. He took another breath, shaking his head and collecting himself. “Those are lies,” he said, finally. “He - Ben? He is a liar. He is so, so wrong,” Nick continued, still looking at Charlie. “You deserve…everything.” He held Charlie’s gaze for a minute, Charlie’s eyebrows constricting together and his mouth trembling a little.
Nick took a breath against the intensity of vulnerability in Charlie’s face and went on, needing Charlie to know that Nick was telling the truth. “You are kind, Charlie. You are intelligent, and sweet, and caring. You are a good person. You literally make people’s lives better.” Nick shook his head fondly, a tiny smile crossing his face. “You are funny. You explain movies to film Luddites.” Charlie smiled a little bit at that. “You are successful and have amazing friends.”
You are beautiful.
Nick wanted to tell him, but this wasn’t the time. This wasn’t what Charlie needed right now - another confrontation of feeling. He needed support and kindness and to know the truth - that he was utterly deserving of the world.
“You deserve everything,” Nick repeated, holding Charlie’s gaze until Charlie tremulously nodded, then Nick gently tucked Charlie’s head back into his shoulder. “You are incredible, Charlie.”
Charlie gave a deep sniff and sighed, this time sounding like a sigh of release and relief, no longer one of regret and heaviness. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly against Nick’s chest. “Just…thank you.” They sat like that longer than Nick ever would have expected, Charlie turned into Nick and Nick’s arm still around him. It wasn’t long before Charlie’s breath softened and slowed, the exhaustion of the day clearly catching up to him as he drifted off to sleep against Nick’s chest.
Nick made sure Charlie was well and truly asleep before shifting him, as slowly and gently as he could. Charlie stayed asleep, murmuring a bit as Nick moved him, and Nick slipped out of the front door, first going to the barn and checking on the cows, who were still peacefully ignorant of everything that had happened. Those sweet, adoring girls. Nick loved them. He fed and watered them before “accidentally” dropping Ben’s key in some fresh cow pat, then picking the fob up with one of his barn gloves. He looked at the fob thoughtfully and then reconsidered, dropping it back in the cow pat and pushing it down with the toe of his boot before picking it back up with the glove again.
Nick breathed intentionally as he made his way back to the lavender shed, stopping for a moment and closing his eyes to take three more breaths before going back into the lavender shed. He thought of knocking by sheer force of habit and then shook his head at himself, opening the door and finding B. Hope sitting on the side of the camp bed, looking reasonably sober and not nearly as contrite as he should be.
Nick barked out a few questions to gauge Ben’s sobriety, and once assured with the responses, threw the key on the bed next to him, grimly pleased with Ben’s disgusted reaction when he picked up the key without looking at it first.
“Am I allowed to go now?” sneered Ben, shooting Nick a malevolent look. Nick hoped that B. Hope got a raspberry seed stuck in his teeth that he would be unable to dislodge for the rest of his life.
“Yes,” said Nick. “You can get the fuck out of here and never come back. But let me tell you something before you leave Lavender Fields and Charlie alone forever, yeah?” he said. Nick paused and took in Ben for a moment - the handsome face, the arrogance, the mediocrity. “Charlie Spring is a goddamn gift. You didn’t lower yourself to be with him. Charlie was the literal best thing that ever happened and ever will happen in your life, and you threw him away.” Nick paused. “You told Charlie that he didn’t deserve you,” he said softly. “And you were right. He deserves so much more than you could ever offer.”
Ben’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He glared at Nick, then looked away haughtily. Nick looked at Ben, shaking his head in something like sympathy for the horrendous person in front of him who had unknowingly lost so much. “Charlie is worth so much more than you, and he realised that and moved on,” said Nick. “Sadly, you’re stuck with yourself the rest of your life. Good luck with that.” Nick let the corners of his mouth turn up in a cold but authentically joyful smile as he backed out of the lavender shed, crossing his arms and waiting for Ben to exit.
He did, with one last hateful look at Nick. Ben got into his expensive car and backed out, shells flying under his expensive tires as he revved the engine, reversing out of Lavender Fields for the first and last time. Nick had to grin at the middle finger extended to him as Ben drove away, the digit just visible in the dome lights. Fuck you, too, B. Hope. May the rest of your life be as big of a disappointment as you probably are to your parents.
Nick waited until he couldn’t see Ben’s brake lights at all, then sagged back on the porch railing and rubbed his hands over his face. Fuck. What a fucking day. He made his way back inside and collapsed onto the disappointingly now-vacant couch, swirling and conflicting emotions and feelings running through him. Nick closed his eyes against the flood and pushed it down, not ready. Nick pulled out his phone to see messages from the Badgers group chat, one from his mum saying that she’d be later than expected, and some from Charlie. Nick opened the chat with Charlie immediately, looking at the messages, holding his phone in both of his hands.
C. Spring: i went upstairs to bed
C. Spring: i dont quite know what to say
C. Spring: sorry i broke down like that
C. Spring: (again)
C. Spring: obligatory i knowwwww because you’re going to scold me for apologising
C. Spring: but thank you for being there
C. Spring: just…thank you xx
Nick smiled gently at his phone, ‘heart’-ing Charlie’s last message and mentally preparing an outline of ways to make Charlie feel comfortable tomorrow morning and not like he exposed too much to Nick. There was nothing that Charlie could tell him that would make Nick feel like it - or he - was too much. Ever.
He scrolled through his other messages, responding to a few of the Badgers’ group chat messages and sending one to Amy to confirm their regular Sunday chat the following day. She and the others would be back soon for a long New Year’s Eve weekend and Nick couldn’t wait. Nick needed to make sure Charlie was going to be there, too. He felt a sickening lurch when he remembered that it was possible that Charlie could be going to his flat in London any time now. Nick had no idea what it would look like to maintain a friendship with Charlie once he was in London full time. Nick felt reasonably confident that Charlie would want to stay close, but that would be…different. Charlie would be there and Nick would be here and he might come visit for a day. Or maybe Nick could visit Charlie when he was in London for matches. That just…that wasn’t enough. Nick wanted so much more.
Before he could spiral too much, Nick saw the sweep of lights coming up the road and sagged with relief when he heard the sounds of tires on the drive, knowing from the sound alone that it was his mum. He felt an unexpected tightness in his throat and a sweeping sense of gratitude, both that she was home and that she had missed everything that happened. Nick would have been even more on edge and tense if she had been around, both fiercely protective of her and highly aware of what she’d think of how he reacted. He also didn’t want her to have to see what Charlie had gone through with how much she already cared about him, and he vowed to himself that he’d keep it to himself and not burden her with the story of Ben showing up.
Then his mum walked into the parlour and Nick’s resolve crumbled immediately.
“Oh, I had no idea it had gotten so late!” exclaimed Sarah, coming in as she pulled off her coat. “Mark made such delicious food - a soup I need to get a recipe for - and…Nick, baby, what’s wrong?”
As soon as Nick saw Sarah’s face, he felt like he was six years old again, quivering in false bravado after an older kid had pushed him down. He remembered that feeling acutely from being a child - he was fine until he wasn’t; he kept it together until her tenderness opened a gate for him and allowed the feelings that he had been pressing down to wash forward, completely overwhelming him. Twenty-five years later, Nick was right back on a playground being greeted by his mother picking him up and asking what was wrong with her baby. Nick could feel his lips trembling and pressed them together as he got up, reaching blindly forward for Sarah, extending his arms and burying his face in her shoulder, bending his neck to make up for how much taller he was.
“Oh, baby,” said Sarah, stroking his back. “My darling.” Her words and her tone, always filled with love, were the final breach in the dam. Nick let go, the emotions that had been a maelstrom inside of him for the last three hours - or honestly, nine weeks - finally bursting out. He sobbed and clung to her like he was that six year old again, hugging her tightly and not letting go. She continued to hold him as Nick openly cried, his mouth open and his tears rolling down the side of his nose as they continued to embrace. “Shh, baby, it’s all right,” she murmured to him. “It’s okay.”
Nick started to calm down a bit and took a couple deep, gasping breaths, trying to get himself back under control. “I…” He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, really leaning into the primary school experience he was apparently returning to. “Mum, it’s…”
Sarah had pulled back and looked at him with concern and empathy. “Let’s sit, baby,” she said, drawing him to the opposite side of the couch from where Nick had held Charlie just an hour before. “What happened, my love? Are you all right?” She paused, looking at him with care. “Is Charlie all right?”
Nick looked up and blinked a few times, swallowing back the burn of tears again. “He - yeah,” he said, knowing he wasn’t making much sense. He took a deep breath. “It’s…Charlie - his ex showed up a bit ago.”
Sarah looked shocked, and Nick felt even momentarily chirked by the look of extreme offence on her face. He loved her and her unconditional support for the people in his life (and by extension, hers) so much, even if she had met them less than a week before. “The one he was going to marry?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. Him. And it…” He shook his head, still burning with anger at how Ben could just show up, demanding to take up space he didn’t deserve and thinking he could force himself back into Charlie’s life. Charlie deserved so much better than that. Than him. Nick found himself telling the whole story to Sarah, telling her the bits and pieces he knew from what Charlie had told him, then filling her in on what Ben had said and the way he had treated Charlie. He got to the part where Ben had - had attacked Charlie. Nick didn’t know if that was the right word, but that was what it felt like. Like Ben attacking, using force to take something he thought he was owed. It truly made him sick to his stomach. Nick could feel himself shaking as he recounted that part of the story, part of him still wishing that he had physically gone after Ben, another part glad he didn’t.
Sarah’s jaw was tight as Nick recounted what happened, her hand gripping Nick’s. Nick got through it and told her the rest, of how he put Ben in the lavender shed until he sobered up, and then how Nick told him about the mistake that he made in letting Charlie go. Sarah told Nick how proud she was how he had handled everything, and Nick nodded, collecting his thoughts.
He sat numbly for a moment, looking at his hands. “I hate that Charlie had to go through that pain, mum,” he said, glancing up at her. “The pain of what Ben put him through, and then the pain of having to see him again. I really hate what Charlie went through when they broke up - that he had to see his whole life differently and feel like everything he knew was gone. I hate that Charlie had to go through that.” He looked back down at his hands again, idly twisting his fingers together. “But I’m also…” Nick paused. “I’m so glad that it happened too,” he said quietly, a little ashamed to say it out loud. “Otherwise Charlie could have ended up with him. Getting less than he deserved. And Charlie deserves the world.” He blinked away the burn of tears once again, then looked up.
His mum’s face was warm and gentle, her eyebrows drawn together. She reached over and took Nick’s hands, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles, Nick watching the motion, over and over. “Charlie’s a really special friend, isn’t he?”
Nick looked up, his stomach tingling, his skin tight.
Was she asking…
Nick searched her face. He found nothing but love and softness in her eyes. She looked at Nick with love, a love that seemed to see all of him. It was a love he felt utterly sure of, secure in. He could feel his body trembling as he swallowed against the rush of words bursting to get out of his throat. Here she was, the woman who raised him, cared for him, accepted him. It was his mum, and she was safe, and she was offering an opening. A way for Nick to be all of the parts of himself. Nick was safe. He looked at her, her eyes still on him, patient and affectionate. The words tumbled out, coarse and unpolished, the feeling of them still new in his throat.
“Yeah,” he said roughly. Nick blinked and felt a few tears drop out. “He is, mum.” He paused and took a long, shuddering breath. “I…” She loves you. She loves all of you. She will still love you. This is okay. “I like him, mum.” His voice cracked, but it felt like hundreds of strings were immediately cut away from the tangled bundle of anxiety in his chest, the tension palpably easing. “I like him so much,” he said again, his voice quavering with nerves and relief and openness.
“Oh, baby,” said Sarah, dropping his hands and pulling Nick’s head to her chest, her touch as soft and gentle as her voice. “Baby, it’s okay. It’s okay.” She held Nick again as a few more sobs burst out, the tears this time feeling like a release. It felt…cleansing. She still loved him. “Oh, Nick, thank you for telling me.” She pulled him back to look at him and he nearly lost it again at the utter love in her eyes. His mum embraced him again and squeezed him with affection and acceptance that he could feel through her hands. “Thank you for telling me that.” She released him, dabbing at her own eyes, too. “I love you so much, my darling boy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that.”
Nick gave a strangled half-laugh. “Well, I just realised that myself a few weeks ago, honestly.”
Sarah looked at him fondly, reaching over to pulse his hand. “Oh, baby. I can only imagine that this has been a lot for you. Both tonight and perhaps the last few weeks, I’d think?”
Nick sniffled out another laugh and nodded. “God, yes. It’s been…it’s been so much, mum. And I didn’t know - I still don’t know what I…” He took a shuddering breath. “I’m still figuring all of this out. But all I know is that I like Charlie.” He laughed and wiped his eyes. “And that’s where I am right now.”
She smiled and brushed away a tear from Nick’s face with a free hand. “Nick. You wonderful, beautiful boy. What a wonderful place to be.” He closed his eyes against her touch and sighed. “I have lemon ricotta pancake batter I made this afternoon for tomorrow. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and I’ll make you a few and we can talk?” Her eyebrows constricted for a moment, looking concerned. “If you want to, that is, baby?”
Nick smiled back at her and nodded. “I do want to, mum.” Then he got up and followed his mum to the kitchen, where he knew a warm stove, hot tea, and a gentle, fierce love would welcome him, just like it always had been. It was no different. Nick was the same and he was different and none of it mattered to his mum. It was clear that to her, he was Nick. She was his mum. Nick still didn’t know what the future looked like for him - with Charlie, with coming to terms with knowing more about himself, with how the rest of the world might relate to him. What he did know was that he had Sarah Nelson in his corner, and that made Nick feel like he could face anything.
Notes:
Lemon Ricotta Pancakes with Blueberry Sauce
Pancakes ingredients:
1 ¼ c all-purpose flour
3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
1 c ricotta cheese (whole milk)
1 egg
2 egg whites
½ c fresh lemon juice
2 tsp lemon zest
1 Tbsp oilIn a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a medium bowl, whisk the ricotta, egg, egg whites, lemon juice, zest, and oil. Gently fold the wet mix into the dry mix until just incorporated. Do not overmix! The batter will be thick.
Heat a griddle to medium (or 375 F if using an electric one). Coat the surface with cooking spray. Dollop ¼ to ⅓ c of batter for each pancake. The batter will be thick! Cook 4-5 minutes per side. You will not see bubbles like normal pancakes. Top with blueberry sauce.
Blueberry sauce ingredients:
1 ½ Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 ½ tsp cornstarch
2 c fresh or frozen blueberries
3 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp waterIn a bowl, mix the lemon juice and cornstarch. Set aside. In a medium pot, combine the blueberries, sugar, and water. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to a simmer after it boils. Whisk the cornstarch mixture again and slowly add it to the blueberry mix, whisking constantly. Cover and keep warm until ready to put as a topping on pancakes.
Chapter 16: December
Summary:
Last Time: B. Hope is the worst. Sarah is the best. Charlie and Nick both open up.
This Time: December speeds on. Nick plans for New Year’s and Charlie gets some news.
Notes:
As always, I am so desperately grateful to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. Waveofyou is busy making me feel feeling that I try to generally keep squashed down with the incredible, incredible work that is Narlie Waves. Wavey has built such an incredible world and characters and god, the feelings! What a writer, what a human. NellieSayzBork has written so many gorgeous works, and right now is creating a lovely, gently, funny slow burn where in As You Are. It is so fantastic and wonderful, as is its author!
Speaking of wonderful authors, another one is BeezusRed. Beezus wrote a 🔥🔥🔥piece that is turning into a series called Mood Ring. If you like E, you will NOT regret this one. Beez also made me the most wonderful gift, a gift fic of Danny and James on holiday. Thank you, you wonderful friend!
The song in this chapter is called Stupid Deep by Jon Bellion.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick and his mum stayed up far later than he had intended, talking for hours. Nick told Sarah about the slow realisation that he had, the conversation with Amy, the way the memories of Danny and James and Rhys and Ethan had come rushing back into his mind. She reacted the way every parent should - a mixture of supportive and embarrassing and often deviating into unrelated stories about people Nick didn’t remember, including a tangent about Rhys’s younger sister getting her head stuck in a chair at the pool one day. God, Nick loved his mum so much.
Sarah tried (and failed) to hold in her laughter when Nick told her about the drum set, actually feeling the heat radiating off of his face like it was wavy lines in a cartoon as she giggled, though not unkindly.
“Oh, my darling boy,” she choked out between fits of laughter. “Did you not think about what would happen when Charlie and I were here at the same time?”
Nick buried his face in his hands and groaned. “No,” he mumbled, pulling away his hands and laughing. “I was just thinking of making him happy.”
His mum’s face immediately shifted into a soppy look, her eyebrows knitting together and her lips pursing in adoration. “Nicky,” she cooed. “That is so sweet.”
Nick blushed even more brilliantly, if possible. “Yeah, well…” He let the sentence hang there, Sarah hiding her smile behind her mug of tea.
She tilted her head at him, her smile shifting to one of warmth and kindness, the mirth fading a little. “How do you feel now?” Nick looked at her with a wondering expression and she expanded. “You’ve…you went through something tonight.” She put her hand on Nick’s as he started to protest. “Yes, Charlie did too, of course. He went through so much - and it sounds like went through a lot for several years with that… man.” Sarah said the word like it was a pejorative. “But, darling, that was a lot for you to experience, too. Especially when you…care for someone.” She said the word care with such a tenderness that it made Nick blink back tears again.
“It…I…” Nick’s words were trickling out, fighting his brain that kept wrenching back and forth. He was rattled from what happened. He had wanted desperately to go after Ben, but he also trusted Charlie. Nick was there to offer support, but it was Charlie’s truth to speak. And god, Charlie did an amazing job. Still, it felt - what? Selfish? Needy? It felt odd to talk about the effect on him when it was something that has been centred around Charlie.
His mum saw him struggling and seemed to glean what he was thinking, using her powers of mum-ery. “It happened to both of you, Nick.” She looked at him steadily, though there was a small tremble to her fingers when she brushed his hair off his forehead. “It doesn’t lessen what happened to Charlie to say that something happened to you, too.”
Nick felt the force of her words settle in his chest, and he nodded for a long moment before answering. “Yes. It was…I do feel, I don’t know - shaken a bit?” She nodded and he went on. “It’s just…I mean there’s the part about him just even coming here and Charlie having to see him. And of course, seeing what Charlie went through - Ben…doing that.” He scowled down at the table, the hot sickness of anger rising again. “Mostly, though, I just hated to see Charlie treated like that. He’s so good and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Sarah reached over and took Nick’s hand again. “Nobody does. And it’s so much harder when it’s someone you care about and just want to see happy.” Her mouth tightened a little and Nick could see the tiny quiver in her lips. “When…I think about you and David and what you went through with your father…” She closed her eyes. “It hurts so badly to see the people we love get hurt.” She opened her eyes and looked at Nick, and Nick hated to see her look like that. His focus on her and how she was feeling smoothed over the pothole his brain had struck on the word “love” when it came to Charlie and not her love for Nick, setting that aside for another day. Or year. That was…yes, that was far too much for tonight.
“Hey,” Nick said haltingly. “No. None of that.” He shook his head gently. “I mean, yes. I know what you’re saying. But mum, that stuff with dad - it sucked, yeah? It was awful. But I had you. And you did so much to help me see that it wasn’t about me. It was about him, and his own selfishness. You showed me that none of it was my fault.”
Sarah nodded, brushing away a tear. She took a deep breath, a watery smile back on her face. “Just like it sounds like you did for Charlie, when you spoke with him.” Nick flushed and Sarah smiled more fully. “You are a lovely person, my boy. I am so glad you are in the world.” She leaned a little closer. “And I’m glad you’re in Charlie’s world, too.”
Nick smiled back at her, both of them sniffling a little. Nick took a breath and shook his head, ready to move on from the heaviness. With a sinking heart, he realised that he hadn’t asked Sarah at all about her evening. Her late evening. Her suspiciously late, arriving-home-smiley evening. “So,” he said, gritting his teeth. “How was the party?” he asked, trying to force a grin on his face and probably looking like he was constipated instead.
Sarah brightened, her face opening a bit. “Oh! It was lovely, thank you for asking.”
“Who was there?” asked Nick, hoping that Sarah would list off hundreds of names, Mark just being one faceless entity in a sea of non-lusting-for-his-mum people.
“Just a few of us,” said Sarah, and Nick’s fake smile grew even more taut. “It was Anne and her wife Maggie, Kent and Mariam, and then Mark and me.” She said it like it was no big deal that she had apparently gone on a five-hour-long triple date.
“That sounds…”
“And Mark is such a talented cook, truly. He made this truly amazing soup and sent me home with some, actually. You’ll have to try it; I bet you’ll love it.”
“Oh, uh - yeah. Maybe.” Nick suddenly hated soup.
“And then we had a game night. You had told me about that game Telestrations that you played when the team was here? Anne ended up bringing it over, and,” Sarah was laughing now, recounting. “Nicky, you didn’t tell me how unintentionally raunchy the drawings can get! There was this one that Mark drew that-”
“Right, Anne,” said Nick hurriedly. “Remember when she had that massive Christmas tree at her place one year and you took me to see it? We don’t have one yet for Lavender Fields. Let’s get a tree! Let’s get a big tree for the inn!” He said that last part a little more aggressively than he intended, his eyes wide and likely bugging out a bit.
Sarah blinked. “Yes?” she said.
“Yes,” said Nick, nodding firmly and emphatically. “Let’s go next week when Charlie gets back.”
Sarah gave him a private smile that she tucked behind her mug again. “Yes, let’s wait for Charlie to get back,” she agreed. “We’ll all go get one together.”
-
The next morning, Nick dragged himself up, having stayed up too late talking with his mum. He came back into the house, kicking his boots off along the way. He had been rehearsing what he’d say to Charlie all morning to make him feel comfortable, but it all ran out of his head when Charlie shyly met him in the kitchen, walking over to greet Nick.
Charlie looked up at Nick, his face open but his eyebrows creased a little between them. “Hi,” he said, placing the cup of tea he had already prepared for Nick on the counter.
“Hi,” Nick returned, looking at Charlie for a long moment. Then he reached out and drew Charlie into a hug, Charlie reaching out at nearly the same time. Nick held him as they swayed for a moment. “You all right?” murmured Nick after a minute, Charlie’s head against his chest.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, taking another deep breath still within Nick’s arms before pulling away, Nick feeling the loss of contact acutely. “I just wanted to thank you.” He held up his hand to Nick’s finger and gently seized it, Nick having already raised it to wag scoldingly at Charlie. “Yes, again. You…I just appreciated what you did in getting…getting Ben away. From me and from here,” he said, looking down for a moment, Nick curling one fist in still-fresh anger. “But for also…like…talking about it last night, too. I just appreciate that you were there. Then and after.” He looked up and gave Nick a brave, flickering smile. “Just…thank you.”
Nick felt his heart swell and wanted so badly to reach out for Charlie’s hand yet again. “There will never be anything I won’t want to talk about with you, Charlie.”
Charlie looked at Nick and took a deep breath in, his eyes glittering. And then they turned pure menace, Charlie apparently ready to move on and away from B. Hope - at least for right now. “Anything?” he asked in a teasing tone. “Including the conversation I had with your mum about her evening?”
Nick could actively feel the blood leaving his face. “You…you what?”
Charlie grinned, and Nick could feel all his muscles becoming spreadable at the saucy look on Charlie’s face. What Nick would do for Charlie to look at him like that in a…different situation. “Oh, she told me everything.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. “Like how she sat distantly in a chair the whole evening and only exchanged bows and curtsies at the beginning and end of the evening?”
Charlie gave Nick an apologetic fake-wince. “Sorry, Nick. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, and when she does, a true gentleman doesn’t repeat it.”
Nick stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed loudly, a tuneless version of Baa Baa Black Sheep. Charlie was laughing and tugging on his arm, and Nick kept up the ruse longer than he really needed to, Charlie’s fingers pulling against his arms. Nick might have flexed a bit.
“Nick,” Charlie was saying, laughing. “I’ll stop. I promise.” Nick raised an eyebrow and Charlie gave a playful shrug. “I kind of promise.” Nick laughed. Charlie’s face softened a little and he pushed himself onto the counter, Nick doing the same next to him. “I did actually…I spoke to your mum this morning,” he said, nodding. “She’s upstairs getting the rooms ready for guests, she told me to tell you. But I told her…I told her what happened yesterday.” Nick felt a little pit in his stomach. Would Charlie be upset that Nick had already spoken with her? “Since it was, like…at her house? I don’t know, I felt like I should.” He gave a rueful laugh, tangling his fingers into his curls for a moment as he tugged on his hair. Nick wanted to do that to Charlie’s hair. “Or maybe I just wanted to, you know?” He looked at Nick. “She’s just so lovely and kind. We talked for a while and…well, she did also tell me that you two spoke last night, too.” Nick looked up in alarm, ready to apologise, Charlie already putting his hand lightly on Nick’s. “And I’m really glad you spoke with her, honestly. I felt awful this morning, thinking of you having to deal with Ben again and then being alone.” Nick opened his mouth to protest and Charlie shook his head fondly, taking his hand off Nick’s. “I just wanted to tell you that. That she and I talked, and that I’m glad that you and she did, as well.”
Nick was so, so grateful for Charlie. For how kind he was, for how understanding he was, and for how strong he was. God, he was amazing. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m just glad that you’re okay, honestly.”
Charlie nodded. “I am.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Honestly, I’m…kind of great. I needed to say that to him. And it was just an underline of how much of a shitty person he is that he was drunk and that he…did that.” Charlie’s voice dropped a little and Nick put his hand on Charlie’s this time, gently pulsing it. Charlie glanced down and then back up at Nick, his eyes clear. “But that was the first time I had ever actually said that out loud. That I did deserve more.”
“Do,” said Nick, his brain blurting it out automatically.
Charlie cocked his head. “What?”
“Do deserve it,” said Nick, his heart hammering but not backing away.
Charlie blushed and looked down, and Nick pulled his hand away. “Do deserve more,” said Charlie quietly.
“Well,” said Nick, wanting to lighten the mood a little. “Now you’re in the club.”
“The club?”
“The Charlie Spring fan club,” Nick said promptly, and Charlie laughed. “We have pins.”
Charlie grinned. “Oh, it’s a ‘we’ thing?”
“No, it’s a large thing,” said Nick, Charlie groaning after a beat and dropping his head back, laughing. “But yes, it’s a well-established club. We have Henry and Nellie - of course - Amy and the Badgers…my mum, yes, then four of the five portrait people - no, I can’t tell you which one didn’t opt to join, Charlie, I am the secretary and ‘secret’ is literally part of my title…oh, and Elle and Tao. Tao’s the president; he even has this spinning bowtie and loves to make up rhyming chants about you.”
Charlie burst out laughing and Nick preened. “Oh my god. I can see that. No, that’s not right. I can’t unsee it is more like it. Oh, god, Nick, now every time he is lecturing me about French cinema, I will only be able to picture him in a spinning bow tie!” He glared at Nick in mock-offence. “How dare you, sir.”
“Risks of club membership, I’m afraid,” said Nick with an apologetic wince. “It’s in our charter.”
Charlie laughed again, then glanced at his phone. “Oh, shit,” he said, looking up at Nick. “I need to head back to London and get everything settled for my days there this week.”
“And miss a Sarah Nelson breakfast?!”
“She made me the chocolate muffins to go,” said Charlie smugly, patting the container next to him on the counter.
“I knew it,” muttered Nick. “I knew you’d be the favourite.”
“She said there’s some lovely hay for you in the barn,” said Charlie earnestly.
Nick laughed, then shook his head morosely. “Well, I guess I should be thankful for what I have to eat just like a Spanish cow. They appreciate what they have.”
Charlie crossed his arms. “Whatever this is, don’t.”
“They live their life with a real spirit of grassy-ass, you know?”
Charlie slowly slid from the counter until he was lying on the kitchen floor, Nick laughing uproariously. When Sarah came in, she looked between them, both confused and amused, but grinning at the expressions on both of their faces.
“Charlie, darling?” she asked politely, stepping over Charlie’s legs to get a mug of tea. “All right, dear?”
“Killed by bad jokes,” said Charlie, then he blushed and sat up quickly, like he might have been too silly in front of her, clambering to his feet.
“Ah,” said Sarah, taking a sip of her tea. “Well, that’s a rare way to go. Statistically there’s less than a pun-in-a-million chance.”
Nick beamed and Charlie dropped his head in his hands. “Okay, now I really have to go.”
“Oh, I cannot wait to see you Tuesday, darling,” said Sarah, wrapping Charlie in a tight hug. They would cross over from when Charlie got back until Thursday morning when Sarah took off to see her sister in Manchester before returning for Christmas Eve through Boxing Day.
“Me, too, Sarah,” murmured Charlie. “Thank you for everything.” They separated and Sarah gave Charlie an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll walk you out,” offered Nick, dodging past a protesting Charlie to take his bag.
They walked out to Charlie’s car and Nick put the bag inside. Nick wanted to ask Charlie if he had heard anything about the work in his flat. He also very much did not want to know the answer to that question. Charlie smiled at him and Nick automatically opened his arms, Charlie falling into his embrace.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days?” asked Nick against Charlie’s head. He could smell Charlie’s hair and tried not to breathe in too deeply.
“A couple of days,” agreed Charlie. They smiled at each other and Nick stood in the drive watching Charlie drive away until the car was completely out of sight. Charlie Spring. God, the hold that man had on him.
-
The DWoC (Days Without Charlie, as Nick had started to refer to them in his mind) passed more quickly this time, especially with Sarah there. Nick felt freer than he ever had before. It felt like he could breathe more deeply now, the tightness in his chest so much looser since he’d spoken to his mum. They’d always talked about nearly everything, and not telling her about his feelings for Charlie had made Nick feel a swoop of cold, leaden discomfort during their conversations over the past few weeks. They talked about Charlie when he was gone, but they also talked about everything. Sarah told Nick endless stories of her travels. She was both loving her trip but guiltily confided in Nick that she would be ready to come home in June, too. She missed the inn, the cows, and Nick (though she swore it wasn’t in that order).
Sarah and Nick cooked and baked together, taking care of guests and chatting with the cleaners throughout the day. They did chores together and apart, and Nick blushed deeply when Sarah made him show her the drum set, a quirk to her mouth as she traced her fingers over the scuffed edges of some of the drums.
Nick and Amy got a chance to catch up too, doing their regular Sunday evening call on Monday instead, as Amy had been out of town on Sunday. She had called him in a rage, apparently having just talked to Charlie.
“What the fuckity fucking fuck was that fucker fucking doing there?” she asked by way of greeting when Nick answered.
Nick gave a harsh laugh. “I guess Charlie told you, then?”
“Fucking right he did,” said Amy, clearly still angry. “Where’s his body? Is it in pieces? Did the cows eat it? Do cows eat bodies, or is that, like, piranhas? You need me to bring a shovel? I’ll bring a fucking backhoe.”
“God, I wanted to destroy him,” Nick admitted to Amy. “I truly wanted to beat the shit out of the guy.” He sighed and pushed the hair back from his forehead. “But I both know that wouldn't have been what Charlie wanted and I think Charlie rejecting that twat sandwich and the blow to his ego hurt him more than I could have.”
“You still could have at least broken his nose,” grumbled Amy, and Nick had to grin.
They talked a bit about the Ben thing for a while, then shifted topics after Amy fantasised aloud about how wonderful it would have been if Ben had showed up when the whole team had been there. That got them chatting about the Badgers and they caught up for a bit, Amy feeding him the latest gossip about everything and Nick recounting stories of Charlie and Sarah together at Lavender Fields.
“Oh my god, it sounds like it’s just a Nick-rinsing riot with the two of them,” Amy mused. “I am so jealous to miss that! I would be an excellent addition to that crew.”
Nick laughed and shuddered. “Two is plenty at once, thank you. I can do without you telling Charlie - or my mum - about the night that Danny convinced me we were going sky-diving for my birthday and it turned out we were just outside at Wilco’s house and I was jumping blindfolded into a paddling pool.”
Amy let out a loud shout of laughter. “Oh god, I remember that. You nearly pissed yourself, you were so scared!”
“I wasn’t scared,” Nick protested. “I was yelling with…excitement.”
“If that’s you excited, sex must be really weird and filled with high-pitched shrieks,” deadpanned Amy.
Nick laughed. “You are a blight on society.”
“Oh, no one’s denying that,” agreed Amy cheerfully. “But you know…speaking of sexy sexy times and sexy sexy men…have you and Charlie, like…talked at all?” Her tone was careful and measured, and Nick furrowed his brow.
“Not really…” he said, thinking back to their conversation before B. Hope interrupted with his human equivalency of elevator flatulence. “No,” he clarified. “Charlie started to ask me what type of person I usually dated the other night, but I didn’t…” He trailed off, sighing. “Amy, his engagement ended less than three months ago. His engagement. They had been together for so long and I’ve only known him for such a short time.” He paused. “And, like, that would be a thing I couldn’t take back, you know? If he wasn’t…interested…or even if he was and something happened, the idea of having it go wrong and not having him in my life…” He looked off towards the lavender fields, the plants still dormant, months away from their vibrancy. “That would be the worst thing I could imagine.”
Amy hummed. “I mean…I get that, she said with a sigh. “I get that and I hate that for both you and me.” Nick chuckled and he could hear the smile in her voice. She spoke, her voice again uncharacteristically hesitant and careful. “But…I do feel like you could talk about this with Charlie. I think he’d be…I think he’d be open to talking with you. About anything, you know?”
“I know,” said Nick, knowing that Charlie would talk to him about anything. “But I think just…not yet. It’s - it’s so soon. Especially right after that fucker came back and messed with his head.”
“I can’t wait until I find his address,” said Amy enthusiastically, and Nick internally groaned. “I have no kids and have disposable income; do you know how many bags of gummy dicks are going to be shipped to his place with a tiny, ‘Eat a bag of dicks, asshole’ sign attached to them?”
Nick laughed. “Sign one of them from me, yeah?”
“Always.”
They chatted for a few minutes more before ringing off, Nick leaving the call with a smile on his face and warmth in his heart. He couldn’t wait until all of them were back together again.
-
On the Wednesday evening after Charlie returned, Nick was decidedly less impressed with his insistence on a “really large” Christmas tree. He was squished in the backseat, having insisted that Charlie sit up front with Sarah in a fit of gallantry he now faintly regretted. The tree kept tickling the side of his neck and making him think a spider was crawling up from his coat. There was only one entity in this car that Nick wanted to feel gently touching his neck, and that entity was decidedly less Norway spruce and was looking handsome as hell in the passenger seat with his scarf tucked around his neck.
Sarah glanced back in the rear-view mirror as Nick swore and slapped again at his neck. “All right, Nicky?”
Nick struggled to get his arm out from among the tree branches to give a thumbs up. “Just great.”
Charlie looked back and grinned, which Nick returned, brushing a branch away. It has been lovely to pick out a tree with Sarah and Charlie, even if the return trip was a bigger pain than he expected. Charlie just looked so good in his emerald green wool coat and yellow striped scarf. He and Sarah had walked among the trees, Nick following eagerly and nodding along with whatever Charlie said. When it was time to pick up the tree, Nick took great pride in hauling it onto the truck, not anticipating that the “big tree for the inn” would extend past the bed of the truck, necessitating the top of it poking through the window of the truck, Sarah too nervous to have it hanging off the back. Nick was quite aware of Charlie watching as Nick moved the tree, Nick taking off his coat to both give himself more room to work and to say a silent, thankful prayer that he wore a long sleeve shirt underneath that clung to his arms.
When they got back, Sarah pulled out the decorations from the attic, Charlie trying to shyly head up the stairs. He had quietly asked Nick if Nick wanted to decorate the tree with Sarah alone as a ‘family thing’ when Nick asked him where he was going. Nick scoffed and pulled Charlie along, placing a floppy Santa hat on his head, making Charlie grin. Sarah turned on some Christmas music and the three of them decorated the tree, Sarah often spinning off into tales about Nick or his brother David as she pulled out ornaments.
Charlie nudged him when Sarah exclaimed and pulled out “Richard Reindeer”, a glittering golden bauble with glued-on eyes, a red puffball glued on as a nose, and a set of drooping pipe cleaners attached at two angles. “Did you make that?”
Nick grinned back. “I sure did. My mum was so proud of me.”
Charlie sniff-laughed. “How old were you?”
Nick counted on his fingers. “Hmm, oh let’s see. I gave it to her in…March?”
Charlie laughed and Nick smiled back. The three of them did the lights on the tree and about half of the ornaments, Nick and Charlie promising Sarah that they’d finish it the next day.
As they wrapped up and started to neaten the boxes and piles of tissue paper, Charlie trailed over to the often-forgotten standing piano in the corner and tapped one of the keys, which made a discordant sound. “Does one of you play?”
Nick made a face at the hollow, off-tune note. “Yikes. No, not really - it was here when mum bought this place. I actually need to get that tuned next week; James plays the piano. He’ll be here for New Year’s and always plays some stuff for us.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant,” said Charlie. “Does he sing, too?”
“God, no,” laughed Nick. “But he plays really well.” He grinned. “Maybe you and he can duet!”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, because a good 56% of all current songs are just a drum-piano combination.”
Nick nodded enthusiastically. “There are so many songs like that! Like…Little Drummer Boy? Uh…” He looked up at Charlie, perplexed. “And…that’s all I have.”
Charlie laughed, his head tilted back and Nick thought again of what it would feel like to have his face against Charlie’s neck, burying himself in Charlie’s skin and hair and clothes. It was a soft ache that resonated through his body, not overwhelming but never leaving him. They went to bed shortly after and Nick drifted off to sleep hugging his pillow and nuzzling into it, imagining that the soft cotton was warm and real and Charlie.
Sarah’s goodbye to Charlie and Nick on Thursday was poignant, and Nick stepped back to give the two of them a moment, Sarah and Charlie chatting quietly in the kitchen. Nick would get to see her in just two weeks for Christmas, but he didn’t know when Sarah and Charlie would see each other again, of course. He saw Sarah say something to Charlie and then look at him with that fond head tilt she’d given Nick so many times. She pulled him into a hug that lasted several moments, both of them pulling back with soft looks on their faces. Nick looked away quickly as they came to the dining room, Nick taking Sarah’s bags.
“I’ll walk you to your car, mum.”
“Thank you, darling.” She turned once more to Charlie. “Stay in touch, Charlie. You are always welcome here, you know that?”
“Thank you Sarah,” said Charlie genuinely, and Nick’s heart ached seeing the two people he felt so much affection for caring for each other.
He and his mum walked to the car, Nick stowing her bags in the boot and shutting it, facing Sarah.
“Baby,” said Sarah fondly, the nickname making Nick feel his heart swell again. He reached out and wrapped her in a hug, the two of them taking a moment for just mother and son. “I am so proud of you, Nick,” said his mum, the two of them still embracing, the words coming from near his chest. “So, so proud.” She drew back and looked at Nick. “I love you,” she said simply, brushing his hair away from his eyes as she always did. “And I am so happy for you - all you are and who you are. You are the light of my life, darling boy.”
Nick looked up and blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat before looking back at her. “I love you too, mum.”
Sarah gave a last look at the house, sweeping over the barn, the fields, the house, the lawn, the paddock. “It’s all exquisite, isn’t it? Thank you for loving all of this, and taking care of all of it. Keep taking care of yourself, too, won’t you darling? You’re the most exquisite thing here.”
Nick sniffled and grinned and hugged her again. He watched her drive away, his heart full with love and relief and gratitude for how she looked at him. Still looked at him. Sarah Nelson. The true hero of his life.
-
The rest of the week it was just them…Nick and Charlie. And guests of course, too. The mornings were theirs, the two of them quietly talking in the cosy kitchen, drinking their coffee and tea before anyone else was up. It wasn’t lost on Nick that Charlie got up far earlier than he needed to for work to be able to help Nick with the mornings, and Nick always thanked him for the help and for joining him. Charlie would come down every evening after he wrapped up with work and they would make dinner together, or Nick would make dinner while Charlie sat on the counter and they talked. They’d eat, then perhaps watch something on TV or sit in comfortable silence for a bit on their phones, but most nights, they talked - about everything and nothing.
“I can’t believe you’d use your teleportation tomorrow!” exclaimed Nick on Friday night, shaking his head. Charlie had to go back early on Saturday instead of Sunday for a work event that evening.
Charlie wagged his finger back at Nick. “You said the rules of the game were that you got one teleportation per month - yes, one-way only!” he said laughingly before Nick could interrupt, knowing the rules that Nick had laid out. “You also said that it was up to me to decide when I was going to use it. Not you, Nicholas Nelson.”
“I’m trying to help you, Charlie,” said Nick, laughing too. “I mean, think about it. We’re still only in the first half of December, and the holidays are coming up. What if you’re, like, hung over after Christmas and you have to go see family? Or you’re in terrible traffic on your way to come here for New Year’s Eve and you want to use it then?”
Charlie blinked and looked a little startled. Nick furrowed his brows. “Remember? I mentioned ages ago that the team was coming here, I don’t know, like a thousand times. There’s a Badgers match on the 30th in London, then everyone is spending New Year’s Eve here. You’re coming, right? Do you remember me asking you if you were going to join a few weeks ago?”
Charlie looked at Nick, a tiny half-smile playing on his mouth. “I remember.” He smiled more broadly at Nick and Nick returned it, his heart thumping in his chest. Then his eyes changed and got that portrait-person cheekiness. “I don’t know, though. That lot made me feel so unwelcome last time, especially Danny. I don’t know if it’s really my sort of thing to hang out with fun people. Oh, and you.”
Nick scoffed and laughed. “How dare you accuse me of not being fun, Charles Elvira?”
“We’re just dropping the last name entirely, then?”
“I will have you know that Club LF is going off every weekend!”
“Nick, you literally insisted that we play Cluedo two weekends ago.”
Nick grinned. “You’re still just mad that I won.”
Charlie huffed. “Like I said, Cluedo is ridiculous with two players and a win doesn’t really even count if-” He cut himself off, not able to control the smile fighting to get out as Nick smirked at Charlie’s indignation. “I - you…” He pointed at Nick, grinning. “Shut up.”
Nick laughed. “Haters gonna hate.” He brushed off some imaginary dust off his shoulder and Charlie laughed, too. Nick loved that sound. Then he sobered a little, putting his hand on top of Charlie’s where it lay between them on the couch. Charlie looked down and then back up again to smile softly at Nick. “Please come,” said Nick, still smiling but more serious this time. “I want you to be there.”
Charlie took a moment and looked at Nick, nodding. “Okay,” he said, sounding like he actually did want to come. “Yeah, I’d love to.” He cleared his throat and Nick lifted his hand, almost unaware that he had put his on top of Charlie’s. That was just becoming more common, it seemed. It wasn’t exactly as Nick wanted, but he loved touching Charlie’s hand just the same. “That’ll be nice. And this year we actually have off from the 23rd until the 3rd of January, so this just saves me from having to spend all of Christmas with my parents. It’s truly the best gift you could give me.” Charlie leaned his head back on the couch and gave a cheeky smile.
Nick felt the smile spreading across his face. Whatever happened with Charlie’s flat, they’d have New Year’s. “Great,” he said, truly meaning it. “Then you could just come back here on the 29th or 30th, we can go to the Badgers match, then everyone will stay here for the holiday.” Or forever.
Charlie widened his eyes and rolled his head slowly towards Nick in an exaggerated way, making Nick laugh. “A…match? Like…I go to a professional rugby match?”
Nick nodded, raising his eyebrows. “Yep.”
“Sounds straight; I’m out.”
Nick startled out a laugh. “Tell that to Danny and James,” he said, snickering. Nick cocked his head sassily, looking at Charlie. “Fine. You can stay with your parents the whole time and not get to see my very captionable play-by-play match facial reactions from the best seats in the house.”
Charlie pretended to consider, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he said, his mouth twitching up again at the corner. “I’ll go.”
“Fine,” said Nick, grinning back. “You should invite anybody you want, like Elle and Tao,” he offered. “It would be great to have them here.” He paused. “It would be great to have Elle here,” Nick amended. “It would be….” he remained silent for a few beats. “...To have Tao here.”
Charlie giggled. “That sounds amazing.” He looked back at Nick from where his head was still leaning against the back of the couch, then lifted it. “Would you - you truly wouldn’t mind? Having my friends join you? And your friends?”
Nick scoffed. “Our friends,” he corrected, internally crowing when Charlie blushed a lively pink colour. “Honestly, I feel like they like you more than me, anyway.”
Charlie took out an invisible notebook and made a checkmark motion in it. “Sarah Nelson, check. Nick Nelson’s friends, check. The plan to take over Nick Nelson’s life is going perfectly.”
More than you know, thought Nick ruefully. Charlie had fully taken over Nick’s brain and life. Nick swallowed that thought down and winked at Charlie. “Well, Amy’s already a done deal; she’s fully abandoned me for you. She keeps bragging to me about your conversations.” Nick made his voice high and as Canadian as he could. “Ooh, Charlie said this. And then he said that a-boot this thing. Let’s go to Tim’s, eh? And then we exchange loonies and toques and oh, sorry, those are privileged conversations you’re not part of, Nick.”
Charlie had looked a little nervous when Nick started, but had relaxed into a smile and was now laughing along with Nick. “You got me,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “I was only pretending to be friends with you so I could receive hockey and workout memes from some terrifying, tiny menace woman in Leeds.”
Nick chortled. “Knew it.” He felt his grin fade a little at the mention of Leeds. Nick had been looking forward to his return to Leeds since he left, so eager to get back to coaching and being part of the Badgers. Lavender Fields had always been a temporary stop for him before he went back to Leeds, to the life that he had there. Then C. Spring had arrived. Charlie’s arrival at Lavender Fields had changed literally everything Nick knew. He changed the way that Nick felt and the way that Nick even looked at the world, from all of the reconsidering he’d been doing. He even changed the way Nick felt about going back to Leeds and rugby. Nick still craved that; he missed playing and missed the team like it was a piece of his soul that had been left behind. But Charlie…
It was like Charlie had filled a part of his soul Nick hadn’t even realised was empty. With Charlie, Nick was a version of himself that he felt proud of; someone who was more in touch with how they felt and present in the moment instead of focusing on what was next, what was coming. Charlie was his friend and Nick thought he would have cherished their time together even if he wasn’t so head over heels for him. In so many ways, Charlie felt like home.
Nick had been so focused on worrying about when Charlie would go back to London and his flat that he hadn’t thought of himself leaving Lavender Fields. He’d be going home, but he’d be leaving pieces of his heart behind. Getting to wake up and see the cows every morning, rubbing their happy faces when he came down to the barn. The warm, welcoming kitchen and its worn wooden floors, the boards shining from years of use. Hauling open the giant barn doors to let the sunshine stream in, Nick sitting on top of a wooden bench fiddling with something while Charlie played the drums, his smile white and flashing when he looked at Nick, perfect moments among his sinuous, sensual movements. Trips into town in the old truck, the heater on high and the truck riding low, laden with products from things Nick had grown, Nick had made. And…Charlie.
Charlie.
By the time Nick left Lavender Fields, Charlie would have been back in London for months. It was only 90 minutes to get to Lavender Fields from London. Leeds was a lifetime away. And without a common place that they were living, there would need to be a reason for Nick and Charlie to be in each other’s lives. They’d message, yes, Nick was sure of that. But visiting? Visiting and staying over? Nick loved being in the same house as Charlie more than he could put into words. He loved the mornings with Charlie, moving smoothly around one another in the kitchen, making coffee, sitting on the counters and stealing private moments when the guests were eating. The evenings, when they’d talk about everything. When Nick and Charlie were each living in their own flats, visiting and travelling that far would be a big deal. It would - mean something. And while Charlie meant the world to Nick, he wasn’t entirely sure of what he meant to Charlie. Nick knew that he meant a lot to Charlie, yes. But Charlie, he - he was Nick’s heart.
Charlie was talking and Nick pushed that stream of consciousness to the back of his mind. That was…later. He could be here with Charlie now. Charlie, who was still at Lavender Fields. Charlie, sitting in front of him. Charlie, the person he wanted to curl up with again in happier circumstances than the last time. Charlie, for whom Nick had started to feel a keening ache when they were in the same room. That Charlie. Nick would miss living with that Charlie. For now, Nick smiled and brought his focus back to Charlie, who was telling Nick about the “head-butting lessons” Amy was taking with Danny, Charlie laughing, his fingers dancing through the air as he retold the story. For now, Nick would be here, here with Charlie. That was all that mattered. For now.
-
“So…” said Charlie, looking up at Nick and smiling. “New Year’s Eve is set, then?” Nick had just brought Charlie’s bag to the car and was leaning against it. He really didn’t like that Charlie had to leave a day early, but he’d be back Tuesday as always. It was just one extra night. Nick was going to spend the time getting Lavender Fields fully ready for Christmas, even though it, “Already looked like TK Maxx vomited in here, Nick,” according to a certain Ebenezer Spring.
“And the match, said Nick with a smile. “Don’t forget about that.”
Charlie shook his head, bemused. “Nope, won’t forget that one,” he said. “Can’t, really. I’ll be Googling, ‘Rugby match fire outfits’ and ‘etiquette when rugby companion gets thrown out for yell-y behaviour’ for the next two and a half weeks.”
Nick snorted. “Just you wait, Charlie. You’re going to the match with a star.” He raised both of his hands in the air and spread them apart in an arc, emphasising his celestial nature.
Charlie laughed. “Ah, Nick Nelson in his natural habitat. I can’t wait.” He smiled and then opened his car door, pausing, his arm hooked over the door. “I’ll see you back in a few days, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, putting his hands in his pockets and smiling. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
It was less than 48 hours later when things fell apart.
-
It had started off so well, too.
Without Sarah or Charlie in the house, Nick had done a bit of exploring on Google that weekend. That particular journey had started with an incognito tab and some videos that made Nick feel tingly pleasure mixed with a still-there stir of weird guilt that he knew now was the result of years of conditioning, where it was “weird” to enjoy watching two men pleasure each other. As the afternoon went on, he watched some scenes again and again, letting waves of pleasure and intrigue wash over him, feelings pooling in his low belly.
Later in the afternoon (after…distractions…), Nick went down a click path. He had found a quote that intrigued him - one that he found accidentally on a Google image search, backdropped against a bisexual flag.
“Bisexuality means I am as free and likely to love a woman as I am likely to want to love a man, and what about that? Isn’t that what freedom implies?” Nick read, musing over the words. That got him curious, and he Googled the quote, leading him to a blog whose title caught his eye.
“Why you didn’t realise you were bisexual,” the title read. He nodded along as he read about a viral video from a few years ago, when people were asked if gayness was a choice. Some respondents said that it was a combination of nature and nurture, to which the interviewer asked when they chose to be straight. Puzzled, most people conceded that they never decided - they just knew. The article noted that the video’s message was that sexuality was “just there”, which it said was also real - but so were sexualities that had been repressed and unknown; that needed to be dug up for some people from decades of societally bulldozing over them.
“Sex has no history,” said the blog, explaining that biological reproduction had happened as long as evolution had. “But sexuality does.” It went on to explain that historically, heterosexuality became dubbed as “normal”, as it resulted in procreative sex. Non-procreative sex was discouraged, both religiously and through the concept of stoicism - the idea that humans should control their passions. Nick thought about that, having a visceral reaction. He imagined a life where he suppressed his feelings for Charlie - like he had for the first few months that he’d known Charlie. Now that Nick let the feelings he had for Charlie course through him, drift through his cells and soak through his muscles, he felt more alive than he had in years - maybe ever. Nick reflected on that as he read, experiencing a razor-sharp moment of clarity that the way he’d thought about the world was not just from his own head. It was from literal generations of how sex had been treated - and the idea that there was a way to be and behave and appear.
After sitting with that for a moment, Nick read on about homosexuality and heterosexuality and how they had long been thought of as a binary and a dichotomy to make the world simpler. The blog said both were valid and wonderful things to be, but heterosexuality in particular had been so assumed that many people, like Nick, had never even realised that there were hundreds of ways to be. Straight, gay, pansexual, biromantic, demi asexual - the blog listed so many variations and flavours.
Nick was listening to his “C. Spring” playlist that he kept on Spotify as he read, songs that reminded him of Charlie or memories that they had together, like the day that they listened to *NSYNC’s “I Drive Myself Crazy” in the car, Charlie wheezing with laughter when Nick tried to hit JC Chasez’s solo. He had turned on the Spotify recommendations, and a song came on that he hadn’t heard before. His brain tuned into the music after being distracted by the blog when he realised it was a song he didn’t know, the first line striking him with incredible force.
What if who I hoped to be was always me?
Nick blinked, letting those words settle in. He restarted the song several times, closing his eyes, then letting the rest of the lyrics play.
And the love I fought to feel was always free?
What if all the things I’ve done
Just attempts at earning love, yeah
‘Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep
Stupid deep
Nick didn’t know why he was reacting like this to a song. But in the same way that he’d just tried to live in the ‘like’ for Charlie, he tried to live in the feelings that he was experiencing with the song. He read on, the song quietly in the background, swelling to fill up his soul.
“You ‘weren’t bisexual’ because you weren’t allowed to be. You didn’t know what you could be. You were told the expectations and you fit them, quietly. It was easier. How could you have known?
“You had feelings you didn’t understand. It was like you were in a room that was all dark, and you assumed what things were until the light was switched on. Once the light was on, you slapped yourself on the forehead and thought, ‘How did I not know what that was?’ But until you had your eyes opened - by a friend or a crush or a class or an educator - you didn’t have the light to see things clearly.
“You aren’t going through a phase. You aren’t pretending. You’re not attention-seeking. You aren’t in denial about trying to be gay or trying to fit in. You are real. You are valid. You are you. You are bisexual, and you live in a world that often makes it where you have to intentionally commit to figuring that out for yourself. And you did it. How wonderful are you?”
What if who I hoped to be was always me?
Nick blinked away a few hot tears, the combination of the words on the page and the words floating in the air surrounded him like an embrace. It was like the words were written for him, a soothing affirmation of so many of the things that he had thought about for weeks now. Bisexual. Nick was bisexual. And he was real. Nick was real.
-
Nick felt like something was wrong when Charlie called him on Monday morning. They messaged constantly, but phone calls were rarer, especially during the work day. Nick answered the phone in a curious voice, and he could immediately hear that something was up in Charlie’s tone.
“Charlie?”
“Uh, hey,” said Charlie. It wasn’t the voice of Charlie when he cheerfully said goodbye to Nick a few days ago.
“It’s…aren’t you at work?”
“Yeah, I just stepped outside for a moment,” said Charlie, his voice tight. “I - the people from the flat called.” Nick’s heart sank. “The place is all ready. I can actually start moving my things in tonight after work.”
Nick’s mouth moved without his permission. “Fuuuuuuuuu- inally,” he self-corrected in one of the least-smooth segues known in human history. “Finally, yeah? That’s what you must be thinking - finally. You get to have your own place again.” Nick knew his tone was flat. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Yeah,” said Charlie. There was a long pause. “Finally, yeah.”
Nick gripped the phone hard, feeling it shake a little in his hand. “That’s…nice.” He was lying and he knew Charlie could hear it.
“Now I can be out of your and Elle and Tao’s hair, I guess,” said Charlie. His tone was dull, but maybe that’s because Nick’s entire world had gone dull, the colour flowing out of everything.
Nick sighed into the phone, squeezing his eyes shut and running a hand through his hair. “That’s…I’ve loved having you at Lavender Fields, Charlie.”
“I’ve loved being there,” said Charlie softly.
I don’t want you to go.
“I…do you want help moving stuff in?” That literally would feel like Nick was building his own prison cell, but he had to offer. And it would be time with Charlie.
“Oh,” said Charlie, a modicum of surprise in his voice. “You wouldn’t have to do that. And…I mean, aren’t there guests?”
“I can cancel the reservations,” said Nick, trying to control the desperation in his voice. This couldn’t be happening, not now.
“No,” said Charlie, and Nick knew he was shaking his head and would be giving Nick that soft, gentle look if they were together. “Elle and Tao are here, and I’m going to hire people to bring stuff over from the storage unit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” replied Charlie. They both breathed into the phone for a moment, neither of them speaking. When they did, they spoke at the same time.
“I’m going to miss having you here.”
“It’s going to be so weird not being there with you.”
Nick paused, then both of them let out soft laughs.
“Well…you’ll be back for New Year’s,” Nick said quietly.
“And this weekend, to get my stuff,” said Charlie. “I was thinking that maybe I could come down Friday after work and stay the night and then bring my stuff back Saturday.” His voice sounded downcast, or maybe it was just the pall hanging over Nick’s world. “I can come after….after you get back from the trip to town.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick, his world swallowing him up around him. The trip to town without Charlie. “Let’s plan on that.”
“Okay,” said Charlie. There was another long silence, Nick pressing his lips together in devastation to keep from tearing up.
“Charlie…” started Nick. He sighed. Not over the phone. Not like this. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“Friday, yeah,” said Charlie.
They said goodbye and Nick threw his phone to the far side of the couch. He pressed his fingers against his eyes, pressing against the burn. Charlie was leaving. It was over. And so was the new world that Nick had discovered.
-
Nick wallowed for several days. He wallowed as he did chores, he wallowed as he served breakfast and tea and coffee to guests - alone - and he wallowed wallowingly as he tended to the cows, the girls seemingly confused as to why he wasn’t give them as much attention.
“I know, girls,” he murmured, giving Nellie a pat on Wednesday after she nudged his hand. “I guess I’m just in a mood.” He looked at her gentle face, her giant brown eyes looking at him, and he felt badly for being such a grump with her and Henry. “Sorry. A moo-ed.” Henry lowed and Nick felt a lump in his throat. He had gotten used to Charlie being part of his world, and the idea of living in Lavender Fields without him almost felt like too much to bear.
Nick checked his phone automatically as he left the barn. He and Charlie still messaged daily, but Nick felt an undercurrent of sadness every time they spoke. How long would it be until Charlie was back in his normal life, the experience and familiarity that he had with Nick slowly fading? How long until Charlie found…someone new? Someone after B. Hope? The thought twisted his stomach. He saw a message from Amy and opened the thread.
maple syrup monster: What the fuuuuuuuuck, stop ignoring my messages
nnelson: Ha, sorry, been busy
maple syrup monster: Busy is the wrong word, my babes
maple syrup monster: You are living in a first-year student’s apartment
nnelson: …what?
maple syrup monster: Surrounded by PINE. You are not busy, you are pining, my friend
nnelson: Hah.
maple syrup monster: I know, babes, I really do. This sucks so, so badly
maple syrup monster: Have you spoken to Charlie on the phone since Monday?
nnelson: No, just messages. Why?
maple syrup monster: I think he’s really unhappy too you know
nnelson: Really?
maple syrup monster: rEaLlY? Yes, you dummy
nnelson: 😆
nnelson: …but really?
maple syrup monster: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
maple syrup monster: yes
maple syrup monster: Babes he is feeling the exact same as you, I think. Legit sad about leaving LF. And leaving you, too.
maple syrup monster: I know you two have gotten really close
nnelson: Fuck Ames I am so sad
maple syrup monster: I know
maple syrup monster: I hate sad Nick Nelson SO MUCH
maple syrup monster: You deserve the world
nnelson: Haha. Thanks
nnelson: At least I get to see him this weekend
maple syrup monster: I know. I’m glad you get to.
maple syrup monster: I’ll give you some space, but I’ll call you tomorrow or Friday, okay?
nnelson: Okay
maple syrup monster: I love you, you poor smitten kitten
nnelson: Love you too
Nick almost smiled, re-reading the conversation. As much as this sucked - and it sucked so, so much - he had good people in his life. And Charlie would be in his life, even if it looked different. Nick hated that things were changing, but he especially hated the way this dampened the tiny flame in his chest that had been living there since the night he and Charlie spoke before B. Hope arrived. Charlie seemed…he had wanted to know who Nick usually dated. There was the tiniest hope that burned that maybe someday Charlie would look at Nick the same way Nick looked at him and maybe, just maybe - that conversation could have inched towards that place. And what Amy had said - he knew that she meant Charlie would miss the way they’d become best friends, but her eye-rolling vexation helped Nick feel a little bit like he wasn’t the only one who was crushed by the idea of no longer living with Charlie. Maybe Charlie was just as sad.
-
The rest of the week dragged by, the DWoC much, much worse with the knowledge that the next time Charlie would be there, it would be the last time he’d be coming down until New Year’s. Nick was surprised and nervous when Charlie called on Friday morning, immediately terrified that Charlie would say that he couldn’t come for some reason. Nick legitimately didn’t think he could take the idea of Charlie not being there, even just for one more night.
Nick answered the phone hesitantly. “Charlie?”
“WOODWORMS,” came the loud voice through the line, Charlie’s tone exasperated and disbelieving.
Nick blinked. “Come again?”
“Woodworms!” Charlie repeated. “The flat is infested with woodworms!”
“Uh…not following,” said Nick, his brow furrowed.
Charlie huffed. “Okay, so, one of the reasons I picked this flat was that a bunch of the units have these beautiful exposed beams. And they had needed to replace them as part of the work they were doing, you know?”
“Yeah…” said Nick slowly.
“They replaced them, but I guess the new beams came from an area of England that had some huge woodworm population that they didn’t know about…something about the life cycle being like several years so you don’t know if wood has woodworms in it until too late? I don’t know, I just got a phone call from the owners of the building and I didn’t fully follow everything that they said…”
Nick felt the flame in his chest flicker through the darkness he’d felt the last few days. “So…what happens now?”
“One of the people who called said that I have to take all of my furniture out again and store it, and they have to do this massive project to get all of the wood that they put in out so there’s not any spread to other units,” explained Charlie. He paused, the fire in Nick’s chest glowing even stronger. “She said it would be a full month minimum and very likely more. So - god, Nick, I am so sorry…Can we just…keep doing the same thing? Like - can I come back tomorrow and stay? Then just keep going back to Elle and Tao’s the first two days of the week?”
Nick couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face and was momentarily glad Charlie wasn’t there to see it. “Of course we can,” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady and not break into a whoop. “Definitely.”
“Thank you,” said Charlie, sounding utterly relieved and as happy as Nick felt. He was probably thrilled to not have to seek out yet another place, which Nick understood. “I’m sorry about the change.”
“I’m not,” said Nick, his mouth acting before his brain. Fuck. Oh, well. It was fucking true.
Nick felt like he could hear the wondering smile in Charlie’s voice. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, his breath faster in his chest. “Honestly, I wasn’t quite…ready to not get to see you so often.”
There was a heart-stopping pause before Charlie responded, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh, god, me too, Nick.”
“Really?”
“Of course!” scoffed Charlie. “I kept thinking of not getting to see you so often, and how much I didn’t like that. You’ve become…you’re one of my best friends in the world. I kept, like…worrying about if we wouldn't get to hang out anymore once I was at this new flat.” He said it in a rush, like he had been holding the words in.
“Me too,” said Nick in a wash of relief. “I kept thinking, like…what would be the, like, reason to see each other? I mean, you’re one of my best friends in the world too and that’s reason enough, but it’s like, a drive-”
“-And I kept thinking that you have guests and it’s hard to get away…”
“-And I figured that you’d want some weekends in the city…”
They both laughed, and it was like the three previous days had never happened, Nick’s heart soaring.
“Well,” said Charlie, the smile clear in his voice now. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick, letting his grin spread across his face fully. “You will.”
They spoke for a few more minutes before hanging up, and Nick doubted he’d be able to recall what they said. He was floating. Charlie was coming back.
Charlie was coming home.
And Nick had a very large donation that he was going to be making to the Royal Entomological Society before the day was over. He had just developed a keen fondness and deep appreciation for insects that he needed to express.
Notes:
Vegan Double Chocolate Zucchini Muffins
1 Tbsp flax meal + 3 Tbsp water (or 1 egg, if not vegan)
2 tsp fresh lemon juice
1 c unsweetened almond milk at room temperature (or other dairy/non-dairy milk)
2 c spelt flour, white flour, or whole wheat flour
⅓ c cocoa
1 Tbsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp nutmeg
¼ c coconut oil, melted
⅔ c maple syrup
1 tsp vanilla
1 ¼ c shredded zucchini
½ mini dark chocolate chips (look at the label to ensure it is vegan). Regular size can work, too!Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray a 12-cup muffin tin with baking spray.
For the flax egg: Combine the flax meal and the water, set aside to thicken. Stir the lemon juice into the almond milk and set aside.
In a large bowl, combine the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. In a medium bowl combine the flax egg, almond milk mix, coconut oil, maple syrup, and vanilla. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, and then stir until just combined. Don’t overmix!
Fold in the zucchini (and watch Schitt’s Creek) and chocolate chips. Fill the muffin tins ¾ of the way full. Bake for 14 - 16 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before removing from the pan. It’s basically like you’re eating a salad!
Chapter 17: You
Summary:
Last Time: Charlie’s staying for the foreseeable future. Nick is just sooooo sad about that news.
This Time: Nick and Charlie go to a Badger’s match together in London before the crew join up at Lavender Fields.
Notes:
An early post because of work travel!
A huge thank you to Wavey and NSB for being brilliant menaces. Wave of you is writing Narlie Waves, a mixture of incredible smut and deep, nuanced explorations of characters and relationships. NellieSayzBork is writing As You Are, and a certain soft little someone is looking at a certain sassy little someone else. You know, like a friend.
There is a song in this chapter. It’s called ”It’s Always Been You” by Kate Pruitt. I do recommend listening to it during that scene as it's a central part of that part of the story!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
God, Nick loved having Charlie home.
Charlie ended up only staying at Lavender Fields another week before leaving for the holidays, as he was attending a few parties with friends in London before heading to see his family on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t too bad for Nick, though, as Lavender Fields was known by guests to be a lovely December tradition. When his mum had arrived back at the farm from visiting her sister, they had both worked hard for several days and finally collapsed onto the couch on Christmas Eve, done with the baking and check-ins. There were a few guests who stayed over Christmas and had for years, all of them with family in the area. Those guests would be spending all of Christmas Day with their families, and the holiday itself was just Nick and Sarah.
David had ended up not coming for the holidays, to Nick’s barely-suppressed satisfaction. The ice had started to melt between the two of them when David seemingly saw what a shitbag he was following the Danny and James news after his Premiership teammate came out, but barely. There was a long way to go to get back to any semblance of civility, and Nick would need David to do some serious work on himself before that was possible. Nick still had no desire to spend the holidays with him, particularly with all of the realisations he was processing. It had taken David seeing one of his teammates coming out to realise that gay people were people, and Nick privately doubted if that new, long overdue awareness on David’s part would extend to his brother. That meant it was just Nick and Sarah, which suited Nick just fine.
They woke up early on Christmas morning, meeting downstairs where Sarah had made Nick a travel flask of tea for chores. Whenever Sarah was back he cleared the bedroom where he had been staying (which was of course normally hers), electing to sleep this time in the room where Charlie usually was. The sheets had been washed of course, but Nick imagined that he could sense Charlie all throughout the room; phantom whispers of scent and memory. Nick couldn’t wait until Charlie was back. He’d return to Lavender Fields on the 29th, then they would go to the match on the 30th together.
Nick and his mum exchanged presents on the 25th, Sarah presenting him with something small and sentimental from each place that she had visited. Nick cooed over each of them - Sarah knew that he had the money to buy himself most things, but he could never buy the memories and connections that came with the gifts that she brought. His brain was a little ruined from Charlie, and he wondered despondently who she was with when she bought each of them before returning to the moment. It was his turn to give her his present, and he was smiling as his heart quickened, pulling out the wrapped gift.
Charlie had brought the printed cookbook with him when he had returned following the woodworm debacle, soothingly rubbing Nick’s back as Nick squeezed his eyes hard and tried (and failed) to force back the emotion coming up. It had perhaps been the most dehydrating three weeks of Nick’s life. The cookbook was so gorgeous, and Charlie had admitted upon Nick’s intensive questioning that he had pushed hard to get it done before Christmas, assuming that Nick would want to give it to Sarah as a gift.
Nick had held Charlie for a long time after Charlie had given him the cookbook.
Sarah reacted pretty much the way Nick had expected. She exclaimed in surprise, saying how lovely it was that Nick had gotten her a cookbook. Then her face changed as she started turning through the pages, at first puzzled and then her face dissolving into tears as she flipped through page after page, the book filled with her own recipes. She traced her fingers lovingly over the words and the pictures, drawing her hand to her mouth after she looked through it, fully overcome.
“Nick,” she whispered, shaking her head and looking at him. “How did you…?”
“Charlie,” he said, and he saw her face fill with warmth and joy. “He and I worked together to get it done, but he did almost all of it, mum.”
That had of course descended into FaceTiming Charlie so Sarah could properly thank both him and Nick, the three of them a blubbering mess by the time the call was over. Nick had Charlie’s present waiting at the inn, and Charlie said he was bringing one for Nick as well. They had mutually agreed on something small and silly over Charlie’s initial protests when Nick said he was getting Charlie something. Nick grinned to himself thinking of what he had planned for Charlie. Sarah and Nick ended up revisiting several of the recipes from the book that week, making a delicious African peanut stew (which was not soup), the two of them sharing stories over warm food in front of a hot fire, the cold weather held at bay by the walls of the inn.
-
The evening before Sarah was going to leave, Sarah and Nick sat in the parlour in front of the fire, everything clean and put away and cosy.
Sarah looked around and sighed fondly, turning her attention to Nick.
“What’s up, mum?” Nick asked.
“I just…” Sarah hesitated. “This trip, Nicky. It’s been so wonderful.” She took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I cannot tell you how much it meant to me that I could have this time for myself and have a break, and all you’ve done for me - both on the trip and taking care of my third, fourth, and fifth babies.” She laughed at Nick’s expression, pulsing his hand. “Henry, Nellie, and Lavender Fields.”
“Oh,” said Nick, laughing. He should have known.
“At the same time,” she said, trailing off and looking around again. “I miss it here,” she admitted, pulsing Nick’s hand on the last word. “Would you…” she looked at Nick, and for a moment, she looked as though she was young, younger than Nick and looking for guidance. “Would you think I failed if I came back early? If I didn’t make it the full year travelling? I promise, I would stay out of your way if I came back, I wouldn’t want it feeling like you were living with your mother and-”
Nick interrupted her with a gentle smile, pulling her hand towards him and placing his other hand on hers. “Mum,” he said, as sternly as he could. “It is literally impossible for me to think you failed. At anything. You - look at you! You built this place from scratch. You made this business, you started the lavender fields, you created all of the products here that we sell. And no, I would never think you were a failure or a disappointment or anything like that if you came home before you planned.” He gave her one final squeeze of her hand. “I promise.”
“Thank you, baby,” his mum said, her eyes shining. “I needed to hear that, I think. I don’t plan on coming back before June, but just knowing that I can…that’s comforting.”
“You can always come home, mum,” said Nick, repeating the words that his mum had said to him probably hundreds of times before.
She laughed and brushed at her eyes. “Don’t you turn my words against me, Nicky,” she scolded him, gracing him with a warm smile.
He smiled back, then cleared his throat. “I’ve - I’ve thought about those words a lot,” he said throatily. “With me telling you - about Charlie,” he clarified, seeing his mum’s head tilt.
“Oh?” she said, looking at him steadily, her tone an invitation to go on.
“Yeah,” said Nick, his mouth dry. He’d been practising these words in his head over and over, but hadn’t actually said them out loud. He just knew that it felt - right. This was what - who - he was. Or part of who he was, really, but it was just as much a part of him as his height and eye colour and love for rugby and affection for dogs. “I just - thank you for how you…spoke to me about that. For how it didn’t seem to - change anything,” he said, his voice a little strangled. His mum looked at him, her eyes bright and misty. “I wanted to tell you that - well, I still like women, too. And I also like men. Charlie, especially,” he said with a chuckle that Sarah joined in with.
“I know that, darling,” she said warmly, Nick laughing again. She looked carefully at him, her words kind. “And you don’t need to say you’re attracted to women if you’re not.”
Nick wiped his eyes, the tears of relief welling over. “It’s definitely not just men,” he said. He was going to say this for the first time, and it felt less scary than he thought, though his heart still pounded. “It’s called…bisexuality? If you’ve ever heard of it?”
Sarah smiled warmly and tilted her head towards Nick’s. “I have heard of it,” she said, her voice full of love and with a slight tease in the tone. “I wasn’t born in the 18th century.”
Nick laughed again wetly. “Yeah, sorry.” He took a breath. “That’s…me,” he said. “I’ve realised with all of this….I’m bisexual.” He glanced up at her to meet her eyes, knowing that this wouldn’t change anything, though saying it out loud felt like it changed everything for him, the release palpable in his body.
“Darling,” said Sarah, taking his hand. “I am so, so proud of you. For figuring this out about yourself, for being so open and willing to grow, and for the man that you are. You should be proud, too.”
Nick blinked back another tear and nodded, leaning his head into her hand where she was brushing back his hair again. “Thank you, mum.”
“No, thank you,” Sarah said. “For this, and for being you.” Then she winked and Nick saw the smirk in her eyes. “And for mucking the stalls for me tomorrow.” She gestured to the cookbook, proudly displayed on the coffee table in the parlour. “I have these delicate hands that made these recipes,” she said primly. “I can’t lower myself to such chores.”
Nick laughed loudly. It was so his mum - to accept and love him, and then move on to the next part of the day, that love and acceptance never being a question in her mind. He loved her deeply.
The next few days were a lovely mix of chores, taking care of the few remaining guests before the inn would be empty for New Years, and time for Nick and Sarah to talk and laugh. Even though they were DWoC, the time sped by, made easier knowing that when Charlie came back, he was back for at least another month. Nick would worry about what happened after that…later.
Sarah sighed and smiled, looking at Nick fondly as they stood in front of her car before she departed for the second half of her trip. “Oh, my darling. I will miss you.” She shook her head. “I feel like the mother of a large hoofed mammal saying farewell right now.”
Nick looked at her, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “What?”
His mum’s lips were pressed together, the smile still quirking up at the corners. “Bi, son,” she said, brushing hair away from his face.
There was a half-second where Nick processed what she said before bursting into laughter. “Oh my GOD, mum,” he said, throwing his head back and laughing loudly and openly, feeling free and giddy.
She preened. “I looked up affirmations for bisexual children last night and went down a rabbit hole that inevitably led to puns,” she admitted, and Nick’s heart swelled. He was definitely his mother’s child.
“I love you,” he said, shaking his head fondly.
“I love you too, baby.” They hugged and Nick watched as she drove away, still grinning. He knew now that he’d have a nickname for the rest of his life - Sarah’s favourite bison.
-
Nick was nearly bouncing the morning of the 29th, Charlie due to return to Lavender Fields. He felt like it was Christmas all over again, except he knew exactly what he was getting, and he’d never have enough. Nick didn’t even pretend this time; he just set up on the porch, basking in the weak December sunlight, his foot impatiently tapping as he waited for Charlie to pull in at what he calculated to be the right time, based on when Charlie had left.
Nick broke into a huge grin when Charlie’s car came into the drive, his pace quick as he walked over to greet Charlie. Charlie didn’t even bother with his bag, getting out of the car to meet Nick in an embrace.
“Hi,” said Nick happily, his cheek against Charlie’s hair.
“Hi,” responded Charlie, his head tilted and pressed against Nick’s chest.
“Happy Christmas.” God, Nick could hold him forever. He wanted to hold him forever.
Charlie drew back, grinning. “You already said that…” he pretended to check his wrist, on which he was decidedly not wearing a watch. “...Four days ago.”
“Yeah, but not in person,” scoffed Nick. Charlie laughed and Nick darted past him to get his things. “Have you studied up on all things Badgers?”
“Against my will, yes,” groaned Charlie, trailing Nick into the house. “Olly is so, so excited.” Nick looked back and nearly melted at the expression on Charlie’s face, one of softness and joy. Charlie’s brother Olly was staying with Charlie’s sister over part of the holidays in London and she’d agreed to stop by on the 31st to let him have some one on one time with the Badgers before she brought him back to Kent. Nick was disappointed that Olly and Charlie’s sister couldn’t make the match, but was thrilled to get to show Olly around Lavender Fields and have him meet the team. Charlie had been talking about it for days, repeatedly thanking Nick and checking to be sure if Nick was truly okay with Olly and his sister coming by. Nick had alternately reassured and ignored Charlie, finally threatening to make the entire stadium sing Happy Birthday to Charlie with a camera on him if Charlie kept fretting about it.
“He’s been showing me Badgers match clips nonstop,” Charlie continued, complaining jocularly. “I kept hoping that I’d get the gift of some goddamn peace and quiet for Christmas.”
Nick’s eyes widened and he dropped Charlie’s bag with a thump, grabbing Charlie by the hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led up to the guest rooms. “Oh! That reminds me! Your present!”
Charlie laughed. “I told you didn’t need to get me anything.”
Nick snorted. “Yes, and I told you I was going to ignore you.” He pulled Charlie to the landing in front of the stairs where the portrait people lived and haunted, dropping Charlie’s hand with reluctance, realising a moment too late that he was still holding it. Nick waited, bouncing on his toes while Charlie’s eyes roved over the wall, landing on…
“You turned me into a fucking portrait person?!” Charlie squeaked, a mixture of shock, joy, and laughter in his voice.
Nick grinned hugely. He had taken a terrible picture of Charlie that they had both giggled over, one where Charlie was completely unaware, a blank, vaguely annoyed look on his face. Neither of them could remember what Charlie had been scowling at, but Nick had remembered the photo and had gotten it printed out in sepia tones and then mounted in an ornate silver frame. “You’re one of them now, Char!”
Charlie turned, his eyebrow raised. “Char?”
Nick looked at him, puzzled for a moment. “What?”
Charlie cocked his head, a slow smile spreading on his face. “You called me…Char?”
Nick could feel a wave of heat sweeping up his neck. “Oh, wow,” he said, blushing furiously. “I guess that just…slipped out?”
Charlie looked like he wasn’t even trying to suppress the grin on his face. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing for you,” he said, his voice light and teasing.
Nick covered his face and groaned. “Well, now I’m never saying it again.” That was a lie. Anything that made Charlie smile like that was something he’d say over and over.
-
It was right back to them that night. They made dinner together and helped out a few guests with some varied tasks. All of them were checking out the next day before Nick and Charlie would leave to go to London, leaving the house empty for New Year’s Eve. It was a noble tradition that Nick had participated in since Sarah bought the inn - any New Year’s Eve that the team was around, they always came to Lavender Fields. This year would be even better, of course, because Charlie was there. He had invited Elle and Tao, asking permission again even though Nick had explicitly told him to bring them and they had already confirmed it, causing Nick to chase Charlie around the house, bearing the pun-a-day calendar that Charlie got Nick for Christmas like a crucifix to a demon.
“May your apologies begone!” roared Nick, Charlie shrieking and laughing as they skidded down the halls in socked feet.
Elle and Tao - and Charlie’s other friends Darcy and Tara who Nick had said were welcome, too - would be coming on New Year’s Eve, so the evening following the match would just be the Badgers crew at Lavender Fields. In a stroke of luck, Seamus’s team was playing the Harlequins the same evening as the Badgers were playing the Irish, both games in London. That meant Seamus would be able to join them that evening as well. His match was earlier in the day, so he was planning on coming over to Brentford Community Stadium as soon as he could.
The drive to the match was fun in itself, Nick and Charlie singing at the top of their lungs to a playlist Nick had inherited from Danny. Nick looked over at Charlie again and again as they drove, sneaking glances from the driver’s seat. Charlie was so gorgeous. Obviously in the physical sense, of course. Nick was… attracted to Charlie. Deeply attracted. But Charlie was also just a gorgeous person. He was funny and kind and his heart was so genuinely good. Nick could feel his fingers curling as he prevented his hand yet again from drifting onto Charlie’s knee to give him an affectionate squeeze. Nick wished he could just show Charlie the affection that he wanted to, every moment. He acutely felt it, felt the desire to always drift closer to Charlie, touch Charlie.
As they got closer to the stadium, Charlie wondered aloud about parking. Nick smiled internally to himself. He had complex feelings about how he was treated when he played as a professional athlete and a low-level celebrity, but he was going to celebrate the upsides of it today. Especially when it meant Charlie got to experience some special treatment. He flashed a pass that a member of the Badgers staff, Erin, had sent him. She took care of all of the logistical details for the team, a task that had earned her the title of Erin the Librarian among the Badgers, and she still kindly took care of Nick even as a former player.
The security guard waved him in, and Nick drove to a spot tucked close to the stadium in a lot reserved for VIPs. He grinned at Charlie’s impressed, raised eyebrows.
“Perks of playing,” he said.
“Perks of being Nicholas Nelson, rugby king,” said Charlie, smiling back at Nick.
Nick blushed. “I wasn’t…I - let’s head in, yeah?”
Charlie suppressed a smile and they made their way into the stadium, stopping quickly by the private ticketing booth to pick up Nick and Charlie’s passes. They went through the entrance and Nick led Charlie to one of the best sections where they were seated, nodding and occasionally stopping to chat with someone who shook his hand to say that they missed seeing him play, that it was good to see him there, and other politely inane things. Charlie hung back a little, watching all of the attention on Nick, Nick making sure Charlie was never too far behind. He grabbed Charlie’s coat sleeve around his wrist to pull him past the last throng of people to get to their security-protected seat, starting to explain some aspects of the game with the visual aid of the pitch.
“So, remember that that one’s the try line, yeah? And then of course you know the halfway line, but then there’s also the for- oof!” Nick wheezed as he was tackled at hip-height, a small skull driving directly into his stomach.
“Uncle Nick!” came a happy voice. Nick tried to catch his breath, looking down at the messy explosion of brown hair underneath him.
“Clara!” said Nick, wheezing a little as he picked her up and hugged her, feeling Charlie’s eyes on them. “Charlie, this is the finest rugby player you’ll see today, Clara Wilcox.”
Clara grinned and stuck a hand out to Charlie, who grinned and shook it firmly, still aloft in Nick’s arms. “Hi,” she said, cheerful. “Uncle Nick used to live at my house. How do you know him?”
Charlie laughed and glanced at Nick before talking to Clara again, who Nick had set down. “I sort of live at his house now!”
“Oh,” said Clara brightly. “Are you boyfriends like Uncle Danny and Uncle James?”
Nick’s heart rate rocketed and he half-choked on his own spit, coughing and not able to form a coherent response right away.
“No, Clara,” said an amused, deep voice. “Nicholas Nelson!” Nick found himself wrapped in a bear hug, his former captain Wilco embracing him. “Charlie is just living at Uncle Nick’s house while his house gets fixed.” Nick caught a glimpse of Charlie’s red face as Wilco let him go.
“Oh,” said Clara, looking disappointed.
Wilco laughed and extended his hand. “Hello, Charlie.” He shook hands with Charlie. “Trevor Wilcox, though everyone calls me Wilco.” He jerked his head towards Nick, grinning. “I was the captain for this one for most of his years on the Badgers.”
“Nice to meet you,” Charlie got out, nearly back to normal colour. “Nick’s said a lot about you.” This was true. Nick had told Charlie about Wilco - about briefly living with him and his family while he got settled into Leeds, and about what an incredible leader and person Wilco was. He had pushed the team to be the best versions of themselves on but more importantly off the field, and he tolerated no bullshit. Nick respected and admired him in ways that his own dad would never earn, and Nick always felt moved whenever Wilco reached out to check in on him, which was often.
“All lies,” said Wilco somberly, Charlie chuckling. “Please also meet my better half. Charlie, this is Annette Wilcox, the unofficial team mother of the Badgers - at least when Sarah Nelson isn’t around.”
“Charlie,” said Annette warmly, drawing Charlie into a hug. “It is so nice to meet you. I have been told so much of you from Danny and James.”
Charlie blushed again. “Well, as Trev - Wilco said, all lies.”
Annette smiled, her eyes sparking. “Ah, too bad. They spoke of how wonderful you are.” Charlie stayed red, glancing down and grinning. “And these are our children. You have met Clara, who is eight. This is Jacques and he is twelve.” Jacques waved to Charlie, who waved back. “And that is Amelia, who is fifteen and less interested in her parents than we wish she would be.” Annette shook her head in amusement, Amelia too busy swooning over one of the players on the Irish to greet any of them.
A few minutes later, two women joined the section, Charlie and Regan exclaiming when they saw each other and embracing. Regan was accompanied by James’s sister, Harriet, who would be joining them at Lavender Fields. Nick had been thrilled when James messaged him with the surprise news that Harriet was coming; she was amazing. She had been a part of Danny and James as a couple together since their days at Uni, the three of them going on several trips together. Harriet was so much like James in some ways - a bit reserved, very thoughtful, and deeply funny once you got to know her. James and Danny had both alluded to her being a support when James was figuring out his sexuality, and he knew that she and Danny were quite close. Nick did some quick adding in his head to make sure there were enough beds, figuring that she and Amy would be fine sharing as they had done before.
Nick and Charlie sat with Wilco and his family, Regan and Harriet right next to them. Nick was thrilled that they were getting to see the Wilcoxes, who were staying in London for the holidays. It would have been fun to have Wilco join in for New Year’s Eve, but he also knew that Wilco would be with family and that events were a little different with Captain Dad, everyone on a little bit more refined behaviour. Charlie chatted easily with Annette and Harriet, both of them wonderful people. Nick grinned as he watched Annette draw Charlie under her spell, Charlie smiling and nodding as she spoke.
Nick looked down when he felt a head lean on his arm. “When are you coming back home to Leeds, Uncle Nick?” Clara was looking at him, as much sternness on her face as an eight-year-old could generate.
Nick grinned. “Soon,” he promised. “In June.” Clara beamed at him and then went back to watching the pre-match warmups, happy with his answer. Nick stared at the field without seeing for a moment, thinking about that again. Leeds. Leeds was home, honestly. Lavender Fields was a home, with a person that made him feel like home. But he missed Leeds. He missed being with the team, he missed Amy, he missed Danny and James and Tex, he missed the Wilcoxes. He missed the town, too. As much as he missed all of that, though, his stomach twisted with the idea of a future that didn’t have Charlie firmly in it. Nick took a breath in to steady himself, trying to return to the present moment. He was here with Charlie now, he had the next few days - and months, hopefully - with Charlie at Lavender Fields. He needed to live in the now, not in the then.
The match activities began, and Nick and Charlie laughed aloud as Danny blew them a kiss over his gum guard, giving a tiny wave from under his chin. Nearly every player raised a fist to Nick as they jogged past, Nick unable to wipe the grin off of his face, providing a running commentary for Charlie.
“Okay, and that’s Lucas. He and Will are best mates, and he’s Brazilian and a fantastic player. Look how he moves; see that stutter-step? He’s brilliant; watch that movement, yeah! Oh, okay, and this is Lunker - you’d really like him. Huge bloke, bigger heart, married to this gem of a woman named Emma.”
Charlie grinned throughout Nick’s monologue, occasionally asking questions but mostly seeming to listen. He gave a cheeky, small wave to Amy when she turned and saw them, her face lighting up. She gave a massive grin, blowing kisses and reacting with disgust when Nick pretended to catch one, pointing firmly to Charlie to indicate that it was for him and not Nick.
The match kicked off and the Badgers looked good. Nick tried to keep his coaching hat off and just enjoy the match, which he was able to do to varying levels of success. Nick loved that Charlie got to see what James and Danny were like on the field with each other, the two of them working in fluid perfection. Danny had a huge carry out from a scrum, setting the Badgers up to give them an attacking platform. Nick muttered narration of the play for Charlie, who seemed to watch with rapt attention. Danny and James worked the ball over to the right, then James cut back and powered past the last London Irish player, powering over the line and touching down for a try. Their small group went mad cheering, though the stadium as a whole was less enthused, the London crowd grumbling.
Danny held out a hand and hauled James to his feet, wrapping James’s head in an arm and rubbing his hair, James pulling away and laughing. God, the two of them were just so…They made it look so easy, with each other. Rugby, romance, life - all of it.
There was a scare when the Badgers earned a few penalties in the last few minutes, but their lead was too great, and they won the match 35 - 25. Nick, Charlie, the Wilcox family, and a few other Badgers fans celebrated the win, Nick seizing Charlie in a celebratory hug when the final whistle blew.
“We won!” exclaimed Charlie, looking utterly delighted.
Nick loved Charlie saying we, even if it was about rugby. “We did,” he said, giving Charlie another squeeze and smile before releasing him. “Shall we go meet the lads?”
Charlie looked surprised. “Like…after the match? When everyone comes back with us?”
“Nah, we’re headed to the changing room, come on then.”
Charlie looked taken aback, Nick pulling him by the sleeve out of the crowd, following Wilco. Annette and the kids, as well as Regan and Harriet, had elected to stay behind and chat with the other Badgers fans, and Wilco pushed his way into the changing room after the three of them showed their credentials to the security guard. A massive cheer went up as they came in, Nick shielding himself against the onslaught of players coming over to wrap him in hugs and slap his back, all of them either politely nodding at or shaking Charlie’s hand, or in the case of Danny, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder, yelling that they won because of the, “good luck Charlie-arm” that he had found. Nick was nearly in tears as he laughed, loving Danny’s ridiculousness and the way he loved people so loudly. James slapped Danny’s arm and told him to let Charlie free, Danny doing so with a grin and a kiss on James’s nose.
Charlie was laughing and red when Danny set him down, Danny enthusiastically introducing him to any of the players he hadn’t met yet. Charlie received about a thousand questions from the lads before a red blur came streaking across the room, Amy full-on bear-hugging Charlie.
“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!” she said, grinning after she finally released him, Charlie gasping a little for breath.
“I missed you, too!” exclaimed Charlie, going back in for another hug.
Nick stood stock-still, his arms still out expectantly, his eyes bugging out a little at Amy. She looked over and gave a perfunctory sniff. “Oh, Nick,” she said. “Nice of you to come.”
“Oi!”
Amy laughed and beelined for Nick, hugging him hard. “I cannot fucking wait for this weekend,” she said, her face lit up with a grin.
“Me neither,” agreed Nick. It was all he wanted - Lavender Fields, his friends, a pun-of-the-day calendar waiting, and Charlie. A perfect life.
-
Nick and Charlie stayed at the stadium for a bit, having fun with the lads and Nick introducing Charlie to the team. They stayed until Seamus made his way over, glowing and happy from Sale’s win against the Harlequins. Danny finally rounded everyone up, calling James, who had gone upstairs to go get his sister Harriet, who had been hanging out with Regan, Annette, and the Wilcox kids.
The car ride back was riotous and fun as always, Amy joining them in their car, with Seamus in his following separately, then Danny, James, and Harriet in another. They all tumbled into the house and Nick beamed, seeing all of these people that he loved in the same room. Everyone was laughing and talking, and Nick just took it in for a moment. He was so immeasurably happy, looking around at all of them, but it was complicated by a longing ache that he had felt when Danny and James were here last time, though he hadn’t known what it meant then.
The two of them were standing next to the high-topped serving buffet, both of them leaning back against it while they talked to Seamus and Harriet. Danny’s hand was resting on the wooden surface, and James’s fingers were idly trailing over Danny’s as they all chatted. Nick turned his head and saw Regan and Tex, Tex’s hand in her hair, gently combing through the strands. Both couples were just so…relaxed. Comfortable. Intimate. Regan and Tex were lovely, of course, but there was something about looking at Danny and James in particular.
Nick had seen so few examples of men being intimate with each other before Danny and James had started dating. Yes, there had been a few examples he’d seen on TV or in films, but living in a sports world, affection between men wasn’t common. The Badgers happened to be a more affectionate team in general than any of the others Nick had played on, but then Danny and James had gotten together. Nick had seen them being publicly affectionate with each other for years and had always thought it was nice. Now, it was something he wanted to have for himself, and a hand squeezed around his heart as he watched them interact, Danny slipping his hand into James’s back pocket and drawing them close. He wanted to have that casual, warm, familiar intimacy with Charlie. He wanted that so badly that it ached.
Seamus drifted towards the kitchen and sniffed the air, nosing around the dining room hopefully, breaking Nick out of his longing. “Did you make something sweet for us?” he asked Nick.
Nick grinned, refocusing. “Of course I did.”
“Hell yeah,” crowed Tex. “What’d ya make?”
“A meringue,” said Nick proudly. He and Charlie had celebrated when Nick had pulled it off without a crack in sight.
“Booo,” called Danny, his hands cupped around his mouth. Nick cocked his head, puzzled, the rest of them grinning in confused befuddlement.
“What’s the fuck’s wrong with that, Danny?” asked Nick, laughing.
“Oh, sorry mate, old habit,” said Danny cheerfully. “In Aus we boo meringue.”
There was a pause before everyone burst out laughing, Charlie momentarily grabbing Nick’s forearm as he laughed. Nick grinned at him. It took them a moment to calm back down, everyone still standing around the dining room with their bags.
“Where should we put our stuff, Nick?” asked Regan, shouldering her duffel.
“Oh, yeah,” said Nick. “Let me think…” He should have done this ahead of time, but there had been so much going on between Christmas and guests and bisexual crises and all the normal holiday stuff. “Danny and James, you two are downstairs in Room 5, you animals.” James held up his hand silently and Danny high-fived it, looking delighted. “Charlie is in Room 3 where he’s been staying. Amy, are you and Harriet okay with sharing Room 2?” Amy and Harriet nodded, Harriet glancing at Danny and giving him a grin that Nick couldn’t parse. “Tex and Regan, you take Room 4. And then Seamus, you can go to Room 1.”
“Great,” said Seamus easily.
Amy cocked her head. “Aren’t Charlie’s friends coming tomorrow night too, though?”
Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit! Yes. I’m sorry; that’s all the rooms, right? They can just share with me, though - Nick, can I borrow the camp bed and I’ll stay in that and they can take-”
“No,” said Nick emphatically, shaking his head at Charlie’s ridiculousness, like Nick would ever let Charlie sleep on the same camp bed that B. Hope did. “Okay, well, I think Tara and Darcy are taken care of, right, Charlie?” Charlie had told Nick that the two women had a camper van that could connect to electricity, and that it was their preferred sleeping place when they travelled, enjoying having their own separate space. Charlie nodded and Nick shrugged. “That’s easy, then. Elle and Tao can take my room.”
“And where will you sleep, my fragile orchid?” asked Danny, his arm draped around James’s shoulder, fingers playing with the short hairs at the base of his neck.
“I can stay on one of the couches,” said Nick. “It’s only for a couple of nights.”
“No,” said Charlie firmly. “Nope. I am not letting you sleep on a couch. Not when I’ve been staying here for literal months displacing guests.”
“Well I’m not letting any Lavender Fields guests not have a bed…” started Nick, who didn’t finish as he looked at Charlie, whose arms were crossed and face was unmoved.
“Absolutely not,” said Charlie, and Nick could already tell he was digging his heels in. “I will sleep on the floor before you sleep on a couch.”
Nick scoffed. “Charlie, you are not going to-”
“Which one of the rooms is the one that has the two twins joined together as a king?” interrupted Amy.
Charlie cocked his head and Nick raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah!” he said, having not actually remembered that. “Actually, that’s the bed…” his words lapsed as he looked at Amy, now a little suspicious. “That’s the bed in Charlie’s room.”
“Great!” she said brightly. “Just split apart the beds and set it up as two twins. Then you and Charlie each take one and Elle and Tao can take your room. Easy!”
Nick felt his neck get hot. “Well, couldn’t Seamus and I each take a twin and Charlie can take the room Seamus is in?”
Amy scoffed, cutting him off again. “And have Charlie move all of his stuff? That’s annoying. And you know Seamus snores from when you lived with him; you complained about it all the time. That fucker sleeps alone.”
Seamus nodded at Nick with a truly evil smile and he had to laugh despite the loud, excited, terrifying buzzing in his head. “But what-”
Amy was dismissive. “Charlie, are you okay with that?” Charlie flushed and nodded, mumbling something Nick didn’t parse. “Great!” she said. All right, everyone, drop your shit in your rooms and meet back down here in fifteen.” Nick glared at her as he walked past to his room for one more night, Amy beaming back angelically at him, looking utterly unruffled.
Nick stood for a moment as everyone shuffled off to their rooms, Charlie giving him a last inscrutable look before he left, his face shifting to a guilty smile when Nick caught him looking.
Sharing a room with Charlie tomorrow. Sharing a room with the man I cannot stop thinking about tomorrow. Sleeping in the same room. This is fine. Everything is fine.
Nick was going to die.
-
An hour later, they had all migrated slowly from the kitchen to the parlour, everyone satiated from the meringue and the cocktails Nick had mixed. They were all taking it easy, no one in the mood to go hard, knowing how intense the next night was likely to be.
“Are you gonna play something?” asked Tex, grinning as James strolled over to the piano, tapping on a few of the keys and nodding appreciatively towards Nick, who saluted.
James smiled. “I’ll save most of it for tomorrow, when everyone is here,” he said, grinning at Charlie. He glanced over at Harriet. “But I’ll play one tonight, I think.”
“What are you going to play, my little Jim Jam Slam?” asked Danny, smiling broadly at James from the loveseat where he was lounging in what he called his draw me like one of your French girls pose.
Amy snorted. “That’s a new one.”
“Tim Tam Slam,” said James by way of explanation, and most of the group nodded in understanding.
Nick settled on the couch next to Charlie, handing him a drink, and laughed at Charlie’s puzzled expression. “It’s this Aussie biscuit thing where you - nevermind,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “You have to experience it. I’ll order some and show you next week.”
Charlie smiled back at him. “Sounds good.”
Nick smiled, then turned his attention to the piano where James had sat and played a few chords, ignoring Danny’s question for a few seconds. James looked over at Danny, his eyes soft. “I’m playing something for you, Dandylion.”
Danny grinned, looking surprised, then shifted on the couch to prop his head in his hand. He turned his torso a bit to put a twist in his spine and drew in one of his knees closer to really lean into the pose. “God, I hope it’s sexual and makes everyone uncomfortable.”
Nick and Charlie both laughed, as did everyone else. Nick glanced over at Charlie, who took a sip of his drink and smiled back. James gave Danny a long, inscrutable look, and then started to play, a stirring melody that was a little slower than Nick had expected. He looked up, surprised, when Harriet started to sing a few bars in, moving to stand next to the piano. Nick knew she sang but had never actually heard her. She had a haunting, gorgeous voice, husky and soulful. It was beautiful.
I was broken and bent out of shape
Everything was a dark shade of grey
There never was a sunnier day
Than when you decided to get on that plane
Touch down in the Manchester rain
And I had no clue, it was gonna be you
James was playing and looking at Danny as Harriet sang, his hands moving over the piano, and his eyes never off Danny, Danny. Nick glanced sharply at Amy, who stared back at him, her eyes wide. Danny was typically the one for big showy moments; James was much more reserved with his emotional side, at least in front of other people, even now. They both looked at Danny at the same time, who was sitting up fully now, his eyebrows drawn together in such a look of wonder and love that Nick had to look away. He glanced over instead at Charlie, whose eyes were huge, looking between James on the piano and Danny on the couch and Nick. Nick and Charlie briefly met eyes and Charlie tilted his head wonderingly, Nick shaking his to indicate that he didn’t know what was happening either.
Harriet sang on, the words washing over all of them and filling up the room, the piano swelling in the background.
Then one night we got high on your bed
I had the munchies and your eyes were red
In the grocery store shopping for bread
You looked me dead in my eyes and you said
"Let's have a sword fight with these French baguettes"
And that's when I knew
It was gonna be you
Danny let out a soft, choked laugh, and the rest of the room did the same, Amy wiping her eyes as Harriet sang. Nick could feel the heat of Charlie’s arm on his, their upper arms pressing against each other as they sat next to each other and listened. Nick’s heart was beating hard, and he snuck another glance at Danny, whose eyes were brimming, only a matter of time until the tears started spilling over. Was this what he thought it was? He had always - always - assumed that Danny would be the one to propose to James instead of the other way round. His chest felt tight and tender, his throat thick with the emotion in the music wrapping around him in a heavy but comforting way.
You came wandering into my life without warning
We stayed up talking, before I knew, it was morning
Nick’s breath caught in his throat at that line, Harriet’s words now feeling like a handprint pressing on his chest. It was like Charlie. Nick had been living his life before Charlie, somehow. And then on the last night in September, there he was. There was C. Spring, who would change the way he thought about the world. Nick thought of the nights that they had spent together, the hours talking, the closeness and tears and embraces and laughter that they had shared. He let out a little gasp as the overwhelming gratitude for Charlie being in his life surged up into his throat. He felt Charlie look over at him. Nick glanced over, too, dropping his hand into the tiny slot of space between him and Charlie, the back of his hand nudging against Charlie’s. Even the back of Charlie’s hand was warm and soft and Nick’s chest ached.
He looked again at Danny, who was predictably a mess by this point. Amy had been sitting on the ground leaning against the couch Danny was on, and she quietly reached back and squeezed his hand, Danny clutching at hers, tears slipping down his cheeks.
At a house party just down the street
My band was playing and you came to see
Oh, we both had way too much to drink
We made out all night on some strange balcony
I swear I never wanted to leave
And neither did you
Oh, neither did you
Danny’s breath was hitching now as Harriet sang and James played, his eyes still on Danny. James’s eyes were filled with tears too, and Amy had gotten up to let Danny be the only thing in James’s view. She and Regan had drifted together, their arms around each other’s waists and both women sniffling as the song went on. Nick glanced around and saw Seamus beaming, periodically brushing tears away from his eyes. Tex had a massive grin on his face, looking between Danny and James, his eyes joyful. And then, next to Nick, there was Charlie. The backs of their hands were to each other. All Nick had to do was turn his hand, moving his hand around Charlie’s to lace their fingers together. Take his hand the way his whole body wanted to. The song rose and Harriet’s voice expanded through the room, the emotion pouring out of the words, the music filling Nick’s entire chest.
It was perfect, as if god himself wrote it
I'd be fine dying, if my life were only this moment
Harriet’s voice resonated with the power of the lines and Nick felt like he’d never had so much surging through him at once. Love for every person in this room, wonder and joy at what was happening for his friends, and that aching desperation to anchor himself from flying apart with the person who made him feel so grounded and accepted. Nick swallowed hard and reached the hand next to Charlie’s away to his eyes so he could wipe away the tears that had started to fall, watching James send his love to Danny through this song. He looked over at Charlie, who was doing the same thing. Their hands fit back into the space at the same moment and time froze, floating with the notes from the piano.
Nick slowly moved his trembling hand as Harriet sang, the music swelling around them. He drifted his hand around the back of Charlie’s, his fingers feathering over Charlie’s knuckles as he went. Their palms were now facing each other, and he felt Charlie’s thumb slot into the space between Nick’s thumb and fingers, a tentative, gentle caress. Nick felt another hot rush of tears and looked fully at Charlie, whose eyes were just as emotional as Nick’s. Nick took a breath and every fibre of his being trembled as he moved his hand to interlace his fingers with Charlie’s. Charlie looked down and nestled his hand closer to Nick’s, closing his hand to interlock the two of them together. Nick felt the hitch of a sob through his chest - the music, the love in the room, the way Danny was looking at James, the way James didn’t know a single other person was there besides Danny - it was so much. And Charlie’s hand. Nick was holding Charlie Spring’s hand. It was everything Nick had wanted.
It was… everything.
And somehow the world was spinning on, the music an immersive surround, Danny openly crying. Nick didn’t know how James could keep playing with how emotional he looked. Harriet’s voice shifted to a slower register as she began the next verse.
In my bedroom when I was a child
I imagined that same exact smile
In my dreams, oh, you drove me half wild
I thought for sure it was all in my mind
You could never exist in real life
Yet somehow you do
Oh, somehow you do
Nick thought wonderingly of what he knew about Danny and James’s history. They had known each other in uni, and James had desperately hidden his sexuality until the Badgers found out, when both he and Danny were 25 years old. Nick didn’t know how James survived that, and the lines that Harriet was singing now made his stomach clench painfully. He had known how he felt about Charlie for weeks, and he felt like every time he spoke about it, the complex knot in his chest loosened. He literally couldn’t imagine hiding away for a quarter of a century now that he had finally realised what all of these moments in his life had meant and who he was. He couldn’t imagine trying to convince himself to forget about how he felt and live life swallowing down his heart for more years. His heart ached thinking of what James - and Danny, he was sure - had gone through, and he felt another soul-deep wave of gratitude, this time for the peace and love Danny and James had found. Here they were, comfortable and safe with their love, in front of people in their lives. And here was Charlie, too. Next to Nick. Holding his hand.
Nick hesitantly stroked his thumb over Charlie’s forefinger, nearly dissolving into tears when Charlie moved his too, the two of their thumbs gently sliding over one another’s like silk. Nick looked carefully at Charlie, who gave him a watery smile and a deep breath, leaning his shoulder just perceptibly towards Nick’s. Nick felt like every moment in his life had been leading to this one, this golden moment with the man sitting next to him, and the people he loved all around them, their friends pouring out their love in front of the people in their lives. The song rose once more, Harriet’s voice wobbling a little as she looked between her brother and Danny, the emotion evident in every word.
There must have been angels
Singing sweetly above me
Oh, do you love
Me?
Harriet held the quivering, long note on the last word, the power of her vocals pressing against Nick’s heart. James got up from the piano as she held the note, making his way over to Danny, everyone’s eyes on them. Nick’s hand had stilled against Charlie’s, and now they clutched against each other, Nick adjusting to press his skin as close as he could to Charlie’s. Harriet sang the last few lines of the song in the quiet in a bluesy, stirring resonance, backed now only by sniffles around the room and Danny’s hitching sobs.
There's nobody who
Makes me feel like you do
I know that it's always been
You
James slowly sank to one knee in front of Danny and Charlie’s hand squeezed against Nick’s. Nick pulsed back, feeling the tightness in his throat and swallowing down a sob. Seamus and Tex were standing next to each other watching Danny and James, arms round one another’s shoulders, both of them tearful. Amy and Regan were holding each other, both of them trying to get their breathing under control to let the room be silent and all for them - all for James and Danny.
“Danny,” said James, his voice cracking. Danny got down on his knees to join James, the two of them holding hands and shaking as they both laugh-cried.
Danny shook his head, smiling through the tears coursing down his face. “Yeah, what’s up?” he said in a tremulous voice. Everyone laughed, the sound mingled with the tears.
“Danny,” said James again, his voice unsteady. “You are…you are the fucking love of my life, you cunt.”
Danny let out a strangled sob-laugh, taking James’s head in his hands and drawing him close so that their foreheads touched. “God, I love you, Walkie.”
James kissed Danny’s forehead, Danny closing his eyes, before drawing back. “When I met you eleven years ago in that room at UQ…” He gazed at Danny with so much love and history that it hurt Nick’s heart. “I had been hiding from everyone for so long already. I’d been hiding from myself for so long, too. I truly didn’t think that what I wanted could be possible.” He took a shaking breath, his eyes searching Danny’s. “But more than that, I never thought you were possible,” James said shakily, Danny in a fresh wave of tears.
Nick adjusted his grip to hold Charlie’s hand more securely, wrapping his thumb around Charlie’s knuckles and caressing against his hand, the tears openly falling from his own eyes, too.
“I didn’t know there could be a person like you, Danny,” said James, reaching out with a trembling hand to draw his thumb against Danny’s cheekbone, Danny closing his eyes and letting out a little, strangled cry. “Someone kind, and creative, and caring, and so thoughtful. Someone painfully funny, who makes me laugh like I didn’t know I knew how to. Someone-” His voice broke, and Nick’s heart ached. “Someone so forgiving.” Danny shook his head and pressed his middle and ring fingers against James’s lips so softly that Nick didn’t know if he’d ever forget it.
There was a long look that passed between James and Danny before James spoke again, James closing his eyes and nodding at Danny’s reaction like it healed him. “Someone that everyone loves, but somehow sends even more love out,” said James. “I can’t believe that you’re a person in this world, Danny. And more than anything, I can’t believe that I get to have you as my person. And I want you to be my person forever, baby. I didn’t know love like this could exist, and even if I did, I never would have thought I would get to have it. The idea that I could have a love like that and that love could be you…” James dropped his head for a moment and when he lifted it, the tears were steadily coming down his face. “God, Danny, what did I get right to deserve somebody like you?”
The whole room was a mess at this point. Nick could feel Charlie hitching with repressed sobs next to him and that set him off, his own shoulders shaking. Nick released Charlie’s hand and put an arm around him instead, drawing him close. Charlie raised his own arm to tuck it against Nick, the two of them holding each other as James took another heaving breath, taking Danny’s hands in his.
“Danny Turner. Will you marry me?”
“Fuck you,” squeaked Danny, pulling a laugh out of everyone again, including him and James. “I had so many plans to propose.”
“I know,” said James with a grin, the tears still coming down this face. “They all terrified me.”
“I put down like thirty nonrefundable deposits,” said Danny, him and James clutching each other’s hands and laughing. “Fuck yes, James Walker. I will marry the shit out of you.” He lunged at James, James losing his balance and the two of them falling to the floor, kissing and crying, the rest of them getting up at once to finally look at one another again and hug and cry. Amy beelined for Charlie and the two of them embraced as Danny and James collected themselves off the floor, James pulling the ring out of his back pocket. Seamus came to stand next to Nick, both men beaming as they watched everything unfold with their arms around each other’s shoulders.
“I wanted to propose to you without the ring in hand and get your true answer so you wouldn’t just say yes for the ring,” said James with a grin, opening the box to show a ring that Nick probably thought was unsafe to look at without protective goggles on. Danny gasped in delight, putting his hands in his hair. Nick leaned over and caught a glimpse of the silver (or maybe platinum, Nick didn’t know the difference) ring, giant glittering stones set between two channels. “Four and a half carats of moissanite, my love.”
“IT’S SO SPARKLY,” enthused Danny, letting James put it on his finger before drawing him in and kissing him deeply, over and over. He looked at James, overflowing with love, holding him close. Then he kissed James on the nose and said he’d be right back, darting away and returning in seconds, a velvet box in his hands. Danny dropped to one knee in front of James, everyone sniffling and laughing again.
“James Lord Everton Walker,” said Danny seriously, making everyone besides Charlie crack up. It was a nickname that Danny loved to use for James that made James squirm every time. “I am so mad that you proposed first and now I promise that I will randomly propose to you for the rest of our lives forever.” James threw his head back and laughed, dropping down to the same height as Danny, their faces again close to each other, James clutching at one of Danny’s arms. “Will you marry me?”
James smiled tenderly, leaning forward to kiss Danny on the forehead, and then the lips. “Yes, my love,” he said, tearing up again. Danny held out the ring box with a mischievous smile, and James laugh-winced. “Am I going to be able to even pick up my hand?” he said, bracing himself slightly. Danny grinned again and opened the box, and Nick blinked. It was a silver band, also a channelled ring, but it looked like there was only diamond dust in the middle. It was nothing like the ones Danny had threatened James with for years, often taping pictures of massive, gaudy gold rings in James’s changing stall to taunt him with after practices. James let out a soft breath and looked back up at Danny.
“It’s a ring for you,” said Danny quietly, looking at James’s eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Not for me.” He picked the ring up, and turned it over in his hands. Nick could see lines on the inside of the ring, and before he could wonder, Danny spoke the answer aloud. “It’s both of our fingerprints on the inside,” he said. “Yours and mine. Forever together.”
James looked up and blinked, the tears flowing again. All around him and Danny, everyone was smiling and crying as well. Tex was behind Regan, wrapping her in his arms and nuzzling into her neck as they both sniffled. Amy, Harriet, and Seamus were together, Harriet sobbing fondly as she looked at her brother and soon to be brother-in-law holding each other tightly, both of them standing on their knees. Nick and Charlie had found their way back to each other, and in the attention that was focused on Danny and James, Nick tremulously stretched his hand towards Charlie’s, the tips of their fingers just touching, whispering against one another. Charlie sighed and Nick slipped his fingers to tighten closer with Charlie’s. Charlie returned the movement, pulling their hands together, and Nick closed his eyes for a moment. Nick didn’t know if this moment with Charlie was just one, fleeting, amazing moment that would turn into a memory and nothing more.
Even if it was, it would be one of the best memories Nick would have ever experienced. And it could never, ever be taken away from him.
He imagined for a moment Lavender Fields from above, its fields and acreage leaving it far away from other homes. In the darkness, the light would be pouring out from its windows, a beacon of love and warmth in the night. He couldn’t believe he was here with the friends he loved and the man that he cared about so deeply.
But Nick wanted more. More moments like this, more affection, more getting to hold and touch and speak to Charlie the way he wanted to in his heart. He caressed Charlie’s finger again with his thumb. Nick wanted to be with Charlie, to be able to answer yes when someone asked if Charlie was his boyfriend. He wanted to be able to hold his hand like this any time. He wanted to tangle his fingers in Charlie’s hair like Danny and James did with each other. He wanted to press Charlie against his chest and hook his chin over Charlie’s head while they watched their friends celebrate their love like Regan and Tex were, cuddled together.
Nick wanted that so badly.
And with Charlie’s hand in his, Charlie’s arm pressed against his, Nick had a dizzying lurch in his stomach.
What if…
What if Charlie wanted to be with Nick the way Nick wanted to be with Charlie?
Nick felt momentarily unsteady as he turned his gaze back to Charlie, who looked at him with soft, emotional eyes, Danny and James still embracing and crying in front of them.
What if…
What if Charlie felt the same way as Nick did?
Notes:
West African Peanut Stew
It may seem like a lot of ingredients, but this is very easy to put together! This is one for my vegetarian/gluten free friends.
1 heaping Tbsp coconut oil
1 large onion, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 inch fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and diced
1 ½ tsp cumin
1 tsp coriander
1 tsp turmeric
½ tsp thyme
1/ tsp fresh ground pepper
½ tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp cloves
2 c vegetable broth
1 lb sweet potato, peeled and diced
1 ½ tsp salt
½ c unsweetened peanut butter
2 c cooked chickpeas (or 1 can)
2 15-ounce cans of fire roasted tomatoes
3 Tbsp tomato paste
4 c kale, stems removed and minced
For garnish: cilantro, if you do not think it is disgusting, crushed peanuts, nonfat greek yoghourt or sour cream, diced onionsIn a large pot with a lid, heat the oil until it is melted and shimmering. Saute the onion for 3-4 minutes. Add the garlic, ginger, and jalapeno and saute a minute. Add the spices, stirring them into the vegetables.
Pour in the broth to deglaze the pan. Add the sweet potatoes, salt, peanut butter, chickpeas, and tomatoes and stir. Cover and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the potatoes are tender. Add in the kale and cover, cooking for another 10 minutes. Garnish with the toppings you’d like!
Chapter 18: Countdown
Summary:
Last Time: Charlie joined Nick at a Badger’s match. Danny and James got engaged and it was super chill and not emotional.
This Time: Nick and Danny talk. It’s New Year’s Eve, and everyone is together.
Notes:
Waveofyou (Narlie Waves) and NellieSayzBork (As You Are), just continually making my life better every day. You are both brilliant, loving people who literally make my world brighter and the world as a whole brighter because of the words that you write and the kindness you bring into the world. I am so glad you are my friends.
I have been the luckiest little science this week. Three brilliant, talented, gorgeous human people have given me gifts. Every single one of them is gilded magic.
Ebun78 wrote Heaven is a Hand to Hold, which is a hauntingly gorgeous reflection about first hand-holding with someone that gives you the tummy tingles.
ImBackHereAgain wrote A Touch of Lavender, a perspective of what Charlie might have been thinking after the totally-platonic hand-holding last week. It’s AMAZING how they get into these characters heads so skillfully!
And then BeezusRed’s brain broke in the most amazing way and they wrote Moo-Sings from Lavender Fields, which is…you know what, no. You just have to read it. It’s fucking hilarious.
And if you noticed the chapter count change, no you didn’t. Also it’ll probably “not” change again. These chatty motherfuckers.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
ANOTHER part of it has been recorded here 💜!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The night ended up being heavier on the champagne than Nick (or any of them) had anticipated with Danny’s and James’s engagement, and Nick made a note that he needed to run out and get more before it was actually New Year’s Eve. Every one of them in the room dissolved into happy tears at least once, an impromptu round of toasts finishing them all off. Throughout it all, Nick and Charlie stayed close together. Once the attention was off of Danny and James though, Nick didn’t have the guts to try to take Charlie’s hand again. He alternated between beaming at all of the celebration in the room and then returning to that thought that had come into his head:
What if Charlie felt the same way as Nick did?
It could have been the emotion of the day that had made Charlie take Nick’s hand. It very much could have just been that, and Nick tried to patiently convince himself that was the case over and over. The music, the love in the room, the fact that everyone was there together - there had been a lot going on and Charlie could have just been impacted by all of the sweet, overwhelming sentiment in the room. Still, there was a tiny, hopeful voice inside of him that wondered if it could be something else. If Charlie had ached to hold Nick’s hand the same way that Nick had ached for Charlie for weeks. Nick dragged his attention back to the group in front of him again as James was grinning and addressing Charlie.
“Sorry I did this the night before your friends got here, Charlie,” James said, giving Charlie a friendly clap on the arm. “But honestly, this is so not me to do stuff like this in front of other people, so I wanted as small a group as possible.”
“I totally get that,” Charlie assured him, returning James’s smile. “I’m amazed you were able to play that song and keep it together.”
James gave a relieved-looking nod. “Me too, mate,” he said with a laugh. “Though I think Harriet is the real hero here.”
Harriet preened and gave a toss of her head, making them all chuckle. “It was nothing.” She lowered her voice and pretended to address Nick and Charlie only. “Oh my god, that is a lie. It was so hard. I almost lost it every single second looking at those two.”
“Speaking of so hard,” interjected Danny, wrapping his arms around James from behind, then purring something private into James’s ear, making him blush and twist back to grin at Danny. Danny raised his voice again to speak to everyone. “I have been engaged for over two hours and haven’t gotten to have any solo time with my fiance yet, and that is both extremely panphobic and Oceaniaphobic.”
Harriet made a face. “Ugh, that’s my brother, you disgusting Australian pervert.”
Danny soberly brought his fist to his heart. “It’s an honour and a duty to serve in this way, madam.”
Harriet and the rest of them laughed. “Honestly, you lasted longer than I thought you would before your insatiable nature took over, Danny,” remarked Seamus, glancing at his watch.
Danny threw him a wink and nodded before lowering his head and hoisting James over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, James protesting before giving up, both of them laughingly calling out a goodnight to the group, everyone calling congratulations to them. Amy wished them the best of luck on their first night ever being sexually active together, all of them laughing at James’s red face, carried away over Danny’s shoulder.
The rest of them still in the room all exchanged grins, everyone still delighted at the surprise of the night.
“I owe a lot of people a lot of money,” said Tex, shaking his head. “I never thought it would be James proposing over Danny.”
Everyone else nodded, including Charlie. They talked for a few more minutes before the group mutually agreed that they should get some rest too, Regan reminding everyone to use a white noise app to drown out possible nighttime noises coming from the downstairs bedroom, her eyes haunted with the experiences of the past.
“Come on, Charlie, come up with me,” Amy said. “I can show you how the beds separate into twins for tomorrow night and then can give you a hand with it tomorrow, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Charlie distractedly. He looked at Nick, giving a soft smile. “Thanks for letting Elle and Tao and all of them come down to join. I know they’re going to love it here.”
“I’m so glad they’re coming,” said Nick, feeling the corner of his mouth creep up in a crooked half-smile. “I’m excited to meet more people from your life. I’m also so, so happy you got to be here for that to happen with Danny and James.” He looked briefly down at Charlie’s hand, pulling his eyes back to Charlie’s face with effort. “I’ve been waiting for that for ages.” Nick smiled softly, looking at Charlie. “I was really glad that I got to share that with you. Uh, that we got to share that with you.”
“I’m really happy about that, too,” said Charlie quietly. There was another charged, crackling moment, and Nick felt like he couldn’t get a full breath of air. They both looked at each other for a second that felt like a thousand, until Charlie jerked and blinked. “Goodnight, Nick.”
Nick felt himself deflate a little, though he didn’t know why. “Goodnight, Charlie.” Nick drew Charlie into a close embrace, Charlie tucking his face into the space between Nick’s head and shoulder in a way that felt perfect. Then they released each other and Nick hugged everyone else, Charlie eventually following Amy up the stairs.
Nick watched everyone disperse, Charlie’s feet the last ones to go up the stairs. Nick sat down and sank back into one of the couches, feeling like he was still working too hard for his breath. There it was. There was that tiny voice again, the one that whispered to him that maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe it was Charlie, too. Maybe…maybe there could be something real with Charlie. That thought itself was dizzying, and Nick felt a swirl of butterflies swoop around his belly, imagining a world where he and Charlie were together.
It wasn’t hard to do.
Nick could imagine it so vividly. He could imagine driving to town with Charlie, Charlie’s hand on the back of his neck, his fingers playing with Nick’s hair, Nick melting into the seat. Nick could imagine watching Badgers matches with Charlie, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s temple as he was tucked into Nick’s side, both of them laughing about some expression on Nick’s face or a rugby query that Charlie had. He could picture wrapping his arms around Charlie from behind, Charlie laughing the way James did when Danny did that to him. Nick could imagine sharing a bed with Charlie night after night, kisses pressing each other into pillows and - and…
And…
Oh, fuck.
Nick was sharing a room with Charlie tomorrow night.
Nick’s eyes flew open from his half-lidded daydream, sending a jolt of combined thrill and terror through him. He was sharing a room with Charlie tomorrow night. That meant that some of those thoughts could theoretically be real and possible and oh my god. The odds of anything happening were slim to none, but regardless, it was still Nick’s first time sharing a room with Charlie. Changing in the same room as Charlie. Hearing the noises Charlie made when he slept. Oh god, Charlie hearing the noises Nick made when he slept. Nick was definitely going to die.
Even though Nick made his way to his room, he probably slept for less than two hours total, his brain continually seizing onto worries and wonders and what-ifs, thinking about Charlie.
What if Nick said something to Charlie about how he felt and Charlie didn’t feel the same? Would Charlie even feel comfortable staying in the same house with Nick? Was Nick inadvertently causing Charlie to be homeless because he just had to blurt out his stupid feelings?
What if Charlie felt similarly but it was far too soon after his engagement ended and he couldn’t reciprocate? What would it look like to live with each other like that? Would Charlie feel like he had to tiptoe around Nick and then everything would be different? What if it didn’t feel like…them after that?
Nick did a spectacular job of winding himself up. His dreams, during the few moments of sleep he did catch, were wracked with anxiety and harrying flashes of images, none of which he could recall when he woke up. He finally gave up trying to sleep around 4:30, hauling himself out of bed at 5 when he realised there was no chance of his brain quieting down enough to get restful sleep. Maybe that meant he’d actually be tired enough to just sleep the following night in the same room as Charlie without obsessively worrying about the potential noises that Nick might make while he slept. God, why had he even thought about that?
Nick blearily made his way to the barn, taking care of the girls before heading back in to warm himself up with tea. He was surprised to walk into the kitchen to see Danny, putting a bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.
“Morning, ducky,” said Danny, giving Nick a brilliant grin.
“Morning,” returned Nick, grinning back. “It’s way too early for you to be up.”
Danny gave Nick a cheeky look, nodding and giving Nick a wink. “Just haven’t actually gone to bed, mate. Being engaged makes you randy as fuck.”
Nick snorted and pulled out the tea, putting the kettle on. “Fancy a cuppa?”
Danny waved him off. “Nah, mate. I just needed something to eat; I was fucking famished.”
“Where’s James?”
Danny’s face shifted, just perceptibly. Even just hearing James’s name made his features look softer, happier. “He fell asleep right before I wandered out here. Poor guy’s got no stamina.”
Nick rolled his eyes and laughed. “Six hours of post-engagement shagging is ‘no stamina’?!”
Danny pretended to buff his fingernails. “We can’t all be Danny Turner.”
“Thank god.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. What are you doing up, my little Nick-knack?”
Nick picked up the kettle, which had just clicked off, busying his hands. “Nothing. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Any reason why not?” Danny was looking at him, his face open, eyes meeting Nick’s when Nick looked back at Danny.
“I, uh…” Nick suddenly felt far more awake than his few hours of sleep should have left him, heart pounding. He hated to admit it, but he’d been avoiding Danny to a degree. Nick had engaged with everyone in the group chat and the group chat with just him and James and Danny, but Nick had kept calls with Danny short over the last few weeks. Nick felt that same wave of anxiety from when he first spoke to Amy squeeze his heart; the anxiety that he wasn’t enough, wasn’t valid, wasn’t real. And Danny was.
“Hey, mate, you right?” Nick hadn’t realised that Danny had gotten up, his hand on Nick’s shoulder, the gentle pressure bringing Nick back. Danny was looking at him, his face uncharacteristically serious, eyebrows drawn together.
Nick nodded mutely, settling his mug down. “I’m, uh…” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. This felt scarier than any of the other conversations that he’d had so far, saying something like this to a real queer person. He swallowed dryly and opened his eyes again, Danny waiting patiently, his features soft. Nick took another breath. He was real. You aren’t going through a phase. You aren’t pretending. You’re not attention-seeking. You aren’t in denial about trying to be gay or trying to fit in. You are real. You are valid. You are you. “I’m…god, Danny.” Nick gave a half-laugh that hitched into a dry, strangled sound. He took another deep breath in, trying to ground himself, though the words were still shaky. “I am so fucking head over heels for Charlie.”
Danny nodded, his face unchanging, and Nick wondered for a second if he hadn’t heard Nick. Then Nick saw it - the smile trying to spread across Danny’s features. Danny finally gave up, the grin blossoming across his face as he stopped fighting it. “How the fuck couldn’t you be, Nelson?” he said, finally, shaking his head at Nick and beaming. “That man is a fucking darling.”
Nick felt like his legs were about to give out. “He - I…what?”
Danny smiled. “I’ll have that cup of tea now.”
“Oh, um - yeah,” said Nick, fumbling to pour another cup. He poured it for Danny and pushed it over, sitting in the silence for a minute. Danny seemed to be waiting for him to talk, and he took another big breath. “I, uh - I’ve had some realisations over the last few weeks.” He brushed a hand over his face and let out a huff of a laugh. “Months, really.”
“Yeah?” said Danny, uncharacteristically quiet, looking at Nick expectantly to encourage him to go on.
“Yeah,” repeated Nick. “I - there’s been a lot that’s happened. Charlie got here, you know, and-” He broke off, still feeling tightly wound about the largeness of this conversation, but lost in the memories of first meeting Charlie, too. “I just felt, like - connected to him. I cared about him, you know?” Nick looked at Danny, who nodded. “For a while, that’s what it felt like. Like, a really close friendship. It felt like someone that I just - fit - with. A bit like the Badgers, in a way.” He looked back at Danny, who nodded again. “It’s one of those things where you find someone who you just feel comfortable and happy and secure with, and I figured it was like…that.”
Nick sighed, looking down at his cup, then continued. “It took a bit. But the more time he was here and the more time that we spent together the more I realised that it went, like, deeper than that. I was always thinking about him and missing him when he was back in London and wondering if he was happy and how I could help make him happy and…” He drifted off, squeezing his eyes shut, dropping his voice. “I…I bought him a drum set.”
Nick chanced a look at Danny, who looked confused. “A…drum set?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, sighing. “I bought him a new drum set and put it in the barn when he was gone. I told him that my mum had just found it in the barn at some point.” Nick pressed a hand against his forehead. “I even messed it up. I trashed the drums so they’d look old and he wouldn’t know that I bought it for him once I thought about the fact that he might think it was too much.” Nick looked up sharply at the concerning noises coming out of Danny, little swallowed yelps that sounded like Danny was in pain. Turns out, Danny was suppressing his laughter, and doing an even worse job than Sarah when Nick had told her about the drums. Nick pointed at Danny. “Stop that.”
Danny was steadily turning pink. “Stop what?” he squeaked, the pitch of his voice finally breaking Nick, who burst out laughing.
“Fuck, Danny, stop,” Nick said, jamming his hands against his face and dragging his fingers down his cheeks even as he laughed, Danny snorting at the face he was pulling. Nick sobered a little, taking a breath in. “I was so, so convinced I was straight and this was just, like, some weird thing that I was feeling, but it didn’t mean anything. But then I started thinking back to all of these things in my life and the ways that I had felt about people - men,” he clarified, his eyes darting to look at Danny’s, who just nodded in a seemingly unaffected way. “I, uh - I talked to Amy about it a few weeks back. She actually encouraged me to talk with you.” Nick looked down, his hands gripped around his cup. “I - couldn’t,” he said quietly. “I was still worried this was, like, something not real. That I wasn’t real. That I was this straight bloke just…pretending.” He chanced a glance at Danny, surprised to see Danny suppressing another grin. He pointed at Danny’s face. “What…is that look about?”
“Sorry, mate,” said Danny, grinning broadly. “But Nick-” He propped his head in his hand, smiling. “You’re about as straight as an F1 track.”
Nick laughed, immediately feeling a thousand pounds lighter, realising that the heaviness in his chest - the one that pulled his skin too tightly - was gone, the strings cleanly cut. Nick felt like he could take a full breath for the first time in ages, one that didn’t make him feel strained and tight. This was different from telling Amy and his mum in some ways. Danny was real, and Nick was talking to him and Danny was talking to him like Nick was real. Nick was real. He sagged in relief, taking a long pull of his tea, which was nearly cool by now. “Have - did…like, did you know I wasn’t - straight?”
“I mean, I won’t say I knew how you felt about Charlie,” said Danny, looking at him warmly. “That was and is for you to know, not for me to guess. But I had a sense about how you felt about him, yeah.”
“How did you know?” asked Nick, genuinely amazed. He hadn’t realised until just a few weeks ago.
Danny got up suddenly, looking concerned. “I just have to…hmm, I have to check something.” He left the kitchen, Nick following a few steps behind, utterly confused. As he exited the kitchen, Danny raised his chin like he recognised something, striding over to the mirror in the dining room and settling in front of it, his arms crossed.
Nick came and stood next to him, looking between the mirror and Danny, still baffled. “What…did you need to check?”
Danny pointed at the mirror. “Just wondering if you had any of these in this place,” he said, clapping Nick on the shoulder and grinning at him. “Because if you had ever fucking seen yourself looking at Charlie, you would have known, too.”
Nick blinked and then laughed again, the sound loud and bright before he remembered himself, quieting down to try to not disturb anyone who was sleeping on the floor above. He continued laughing as Danny wrapped an arm around his shoulder and they went back to the kitchen, both of them settling down on stools, Nick heating up more water.
“Why did you…” Nick didn’t want it to seem like the question was accusatory. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Danny shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “James helped me remember that it wasn’t my business, as much as I fucking wanted it to be.” He paused. “I was curious, mate, after that first time we were all here. I saw the way you looked at Charlie and the way he looked at you and…” he broke off, smiling, but there was a layer to it. “It’s the way I looked at James when I first met him at uni.”
Nick had been too busy letting the words, “And the way he looked at you…” bounce around his skull, needing a moment to respond. “And - James? Did he wonder the same thing?”
Danny nodded. “I mean, yeah. Then he told me if I asked you about it he wouldn’t shag me for a week.” Nick chuckled. “Yeah, nah - I knew he was right. This was for you to work through and settle on whatever it was for you - however you wanted to label yourself, or not label yourself.”
Nick nodded and took another drink of tea, his heart fluttering again. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been - that’s been a big fucking journey the last few weeks,” he admitted. Danny gave an understanding nod. “But I’m - I’m bisexual,” he said, the words a little smoother this time, easier. Every time, it got easier. Nick wondered if it would ever be easy.
“Bonza, mate,” said Danny, smiling at him and toasting him with his mug of tea. Nick laughed and tapped Danny’s with his own.
Nick was still a little hesitant, not knowing what was quite appropriate. “And you’re…you’re pansexual, right?”
“Pan, yeah,” said Danny easily. “For me it’s like…it’s like I don’t notice gender, really.” He looked off thoughtfully for a moment. “Like, I notice if the person has jugs or not or what their face looks like and their hair and all of that, but it’s just, like, a secondary thing. It’s just an aspect of who they are. It’s the person, you know?” Nick nodded this time, and Danny looked down at his hand on his mug, the smile spreading across his face again. “It’s one person for me, though,” he said. Danny looked at Nick, his eyes soft and so, so happy. “It’s always been him,” Danny said, shaking his head, years of feelings for James written on his face.
Nick smiled at Danny’s ring, feeling so warm with love for the two of them and their joy as a couple. Nick wanted that so badly. “You and James have been a big part of me figuring all of this out,” he said haltingly, not wanting it to feel strange. “Seeing the two of you together, so happy and comfortable and all that.” Nick looked at Danny. “To see what it looked like for two men to love each other - you helped me realise that it was something that I could see.” Nick swallowed, years of conditioning about what was acceptable to speak about with male friends pressing around his throat, trying to hold the words back. “You helped me understand that that was something I could want and it was something I did want. With Charlie,” Nick added, softly.
Danny’s eyes welled up and he laughed, brushing at his eyes. “Fuck, Nelson, I lost enough moisture over the last 8 hours between the engagement and the aftermath. Don’t fucking start with me, chief.”
Nick laughed and then shuddered. “That is so much information, Danny.”
Danny laughed. “Isn’t it nice to know that getting engaged didn’t change me, though?”
Nick grinned. “Definitely.” Then the smile slid off slowly as his brain drifted back to the worries that he had throughout the night, his mind spinning with the vast chasm between where he and Charlie and where Danny and James were. “I - god.” He broke off for a moment. “God, Danny, I like him so much.” He looked up, and Danny’s eyes were empathetic. “I don’t know…I wish it was like it was with you and James between us. You two make it look so easy.”
Danny pressed his lips together in a smile that looked sad, too. “Ah, fuck, Nick.” He looked at his mug and then back at Nick, his eyes misty. It took him a few minutes before he spoke, looking back up at Nick. “Loving him has always been easy, but figuring out how to be in love with each other hasn't.”
Nick looked at Danny, who was gently touching his engagement ring, his thumb rubbing the metal and twisting the ring back and forth. “Yeah?”
Danny gave his ring another spin before meeting Nick’s eyes, sighing and resettling himself on his stool. He brought his hands together, rubbing one of his hands with the other. “It was so hard for so long, Nick.” Nick’s heart broke a little, hearing all of the heaviness in Danny’s voice, a mingling of heaviness, regret, and utter joy. “We…” He broke off, looking back at his ring before looking back up at Nick. “We hooked up in uni,” he said. “Drunken, secret hookups. Best mates during the day, secret fucking lovers at night. It was so, so fucking hard to have those things feel like they were separate. It was the same person, but it felt like an entirely different thing. We didn’t talk about it for so long…” Danny closed his eyes and sighed. “That was the hardest part.” He opened his eyes. “Seven years, Nick. For seven years we didn’t talk about it. We didn’t talk about hooking up with each other or what we were - both on our own and together - and we didn’t talk about being desperately in love.” His eyes welled again. “And we were. We were so fucking mad for each other,” Danny said with a painful-sounding laugh. “I ended up here playing footy while he was still there and eventually James said it was too hard, that we had to stop talking so we could both move on.” He looked at Nick again. “I never moved on. I knew I’d never move on, not when a piece of my heart is always James Walker.”
Nick swallowed against the burn in his throat, the tears threatening yet again. He knew that Danny and James had been apart, but he hadn’t known any of the details.
“I had been figuring out some shit about myself,” said Danny. “I knew I was pan and once that happened with James and he said we shouldn’t take, I said fuck it and was a total wombat, mate. I got the fuck out there and I had a fucking blast. Thought I could shag it out of my system, you know? But none of them - not a single person was James. Then he…he came to the Badgers,” said Danny softly. “That was the best and the worst fucking thing that’s ever happened.” He looked at Nick, whose heart squeezed, thinking of what Danny and James must have hidden for years. “Have you ever missed someone you were in the same room with?” Danny asked, his voice so full of feeling that Nick took a shaky sip of tea to soothe the burn in his throat.
“I, uh - god, Danny,” said Nick. “I’m so - fuck, I’m sorry.” He let the silence sit for a moment before speaking again. He had a sense of that feeling with Charlie, but was staggered to think of how long it had probably felt like that for Danny and James, and how intense it has been, with all of the unspoken history between them. “And you felt like that - what, since you two were on the Badgers together?”
Danny gave a sad half-sniffed laugh. “Since uni, mate.”
“Fuck,” said Nick. His gut twisted, thinking of Danny and James crossing paths all over the world, feeling the way that Nick did about Charlie - but both of them feeling that way and not being able to express it. “For…god, for all that time?”
“Always,” said Danny softly. The silence stretched on for another few moments, Danny swallowing hard several times, touching his ring absently.
Nick hesitated, not knowing if it was okay to ask. “James - he said something about forgiveness. You being forgiving,” said Nick, tentatively, trying to make it sound like Danny could choose to answer or not.
Danny slumped a little on his stool. He shook his head and when he spoke, his voice was full of pain. “James still holds himself guilty for the fucking sins of the world,” he said quietly. “I was ready a lot sooner than he was. I was ready to be open about who I was and how much I loved him, but James wasn’t. And after we finally talked and got together…” Danny broke off and swallowed. “He feels like he should have been ready sooner. He thinks he should have been braver,” said Danny, shaking his head and looking at Nick like he needed so badly for Nick to understand that James was wrong. “But he’s so fucking brave, Nick.” He tilted his head back, letting out a half-laugh between the tears, his voice breaking slightly. “He’s so fucking brave.”
“I think you both are,” said Nick, Danny looking at him with grateful, wet eyes. “You - you did so much, Danny. Like, you coming out did so much for professional sport. I don’t know if I ever would have been able to be where I am without you and James. That’s not, like, your responsibility,” he added. “But you two decided to come out, and it did so much good, Danny. You two do so much good.”
Danny smiled through the last of the tears, mopping his sleeves over his eyes. “The benefit here is that I’m going to get fucking shickered so quick tonight being this dehydrated. So thanks for that, you cheeky bastard.” Nick laughed and Danny joined in. “Fuck, Nicky.” He looked at Nick, his face back to Danny. “Have you spoken to Charlie about how you feel?”
“No,” said Nick, eyes back down on the counter. “Not yet.”
“When is ‘yet’ going to be, my little Arctic puffin?”
Nick snorted. “I…fuck. I don’t know.” He paused. “For a few days, it looked like Charlie was going to leave. The work on his flat was done and he was going to be gone. I was so fucking devasted about that,” he said. “It did make me think, though - if he had come back and it was the last time he was coming to stay here…it made me think about talking to him. Telling him how he felt before he - left.” Nick still felt sick thinking about the near miss, the thought that he could be here without the secure knowledge that he had more time with Charlie.
Danny leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. “Well, the fucking woodworms gave you a little break, those cheeky cunts.” Nick laughed. “Why not just talk to him, mate?”
Nick shook his head, trying to find the words. “He’s…he’s one of my best friends.” He looked up, Danny nodding at him softly. “And he lives with me. What if…what if it makes him uncomfortable? What if he’s not ready for something like that?” He swallowed. “What if he doesn’t…feel like that about me?”
Danny was leaning forward, his chin in his hand again, face back to normal with his trademark grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Nick.”
Nick snorted and shook his head, half-laughing. “What?”
Danny sighed a long-suffering sigh. “Nick, you sweet, naive, flaming galah.” Nick laughed. “Charlie is so deeply into you.”
Nick started. “I - how do you…really?”
“Really?!” Danny repeated in a falsetto British accent, making Nick laugh again. “Nick. Look at the goddamn man. Look at the way he looks at you. Charlie’s fucking done over you, mate. Just talk to him.”
Nick felt alternating waves of heat and cold flushing his body, the sensations lovely and overwhelming. Was it - was Danny right? God, he needed Danny to be right. “I…god. Yeah. I mean, I - I want to.” He huffed out a syllable of a laugh. “I want to, and I also don’t want to.” Nick hesitated again, not knowing how to ask this without sounding like a heteronormative asshole. “I…there’s also this, like, fear. It’s so stupid, I know,” he said, already feeling horrible about even saying this out loud but wanting to get it out of his body. “But, like, you’re attracted to both men and women. And I…do you ever think - wouldn’t it be easier to, like…be with a woman? Do you ever think about that?” He dropped his eyes in shame, hating that the thought had needled at his brain for a few weeks. Nick was so deeply head over heels for Charlie, and there was still a scariness to being open about that and the idea of Charlie wanting him back. It would be committing to trying to be with a man, and it made Nick feel horrible that it was a fear that even circled in his mind.
Danny looked at him kindly, his green eyes looking brighter than normal. “Maybe here,” he said, gently tapping Nick on the forehead. “But not here,” he said, tapping Nick on the chest, over his heart. “It’s…are there fucking bullshit reasons that it’s harder to be with a man instead of a woman for us? Of course. It’s never going to be easy being in a relationship that some people think is less than theirs for no reason. It gets easier, but it’s not easy,” Danny said, giving Nick another warm look.
Nick nodded, letting Danny’s words settle in his soul, breathing them in. As long as he was saying hard truths, he’d get out one last one. “I think about talking to him, and I think about losing him,” Nick said quietly, his voice trembling a little, the acute fear of that washing through him. “Sometimes it…it seems safer to not say anything.” He looked at Danny, needing him to understand.
Danny gave him a warm look. “Safe can also be small, mate,” he said. “And if it were me, I’d want to live the biggest life I could. You’ve only got one, right? If I had played it safe with James nothing might have ever happened. I didn’t. It was hard for a while, and there was shit we worked through for ages. Still work through, sometimes. But now I’m with the person who makes me feel like it’s more than just living. He makes me feel alive, Nick.” Danny looked at him steadily. “Don’t keep it inside,” he said. “You deserve more than that.” He grinned and raised an eyebrow at Nick. “And so does Charlie.”
Nick sighed into a half-laugh, the air rushing out of him in a wash of relief. God, he felt so fucking light right now. “You’re…you’re right, Danny.” He looked at Danny, trying to make sure the words sounded as sincere as he meant them, down from his soul. “Thank you.”
Danny smiled, getting up to wrap Nick in a hug. “I’m proud of you, you beautiful, brilliant, bisexual bitch.” Nick laughed. Danny drew back and looked towards the part of the house where James was sleeping. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m long overdue to wrap myself around the love of my life until he complains I’m making him too hot.”
Nick chuckled. “I still can’t believe he beat you to the punch.”
Danny’s eyes widened in indignance. “That fucker said he loved the word ‘boyfriend’ still and wanted to keep using that! And I thought that was romantic as fuck, not a fucking brill ploy to get me to not propose.” He shook his head. “I am going to propose in every single goddamn restaurant we are in for the rest of our lives and make him regret the day he ever proposed first to Danny Turner.”
“That’s the way to start a marriage,” grinned Nick. They hugged once more and Danny headed off to finally sleep, the clock nearly at 7 now. Nick knew he should be exhausted, but somehow felt energised. He wanted to burst into Charlie’s room and spill out his heart, telling him exactly how Nick felt about him. Talking to Danny had made Nick feel so free - like all of the heavy ropes that had been tying him to anchors of worry and doubt had been cut away. He was ready. He was ready to tell Charlie how he felt.
-
If he could just find the goddamn right time.
The day was packed. It ended up being a good thing that Nick had gotten up so early, since people started trickling downstairs just a few minutes after Danny went to bed. With help from Regan and Harriet, Nick got breakfast ready, sending a huge smile to Charlie when he came down to help with coffee and tea and earning a dazzling smile in return. They worked their way around each other in the kitchen as always, Nick letting himself drift a little closer when he said something to Charlie, Charlie never drawing back. Even with everyone there, those moments in the kitchen felt like it was just Nick and Charlie in their own world sometimes, like it was their home they shared. Every so often, Charlie would shoot Nick a smile about something, and Nick’s heart would flutter.
Oh god, maybe Charlie did feel the same way as Nick.
Breakfast was loud and rowdy, even without James and Danny who ended up not emerging until 1 in the afternoon to join everyone else, all of them lounging in the parlour while the cleaning staff from down the road took care of the breakfast dishes. Nick had asked them to come both today and tomorrow, and tomorrow they had agreed to do all of the farm chores, giving Nick a full and rare day off. The only chore he had needed to get done was making the two trays of caramel sticky buns, a task that he had completed after breakfast. It had been made more challenging both by having seven people in the small-ish kitchen and Nick’s frequent slaps to the back of Seamus’s hand as he tried to sneak tastes of everything.
When Danny and James rejoined everyone, there was a round of clapping and whistles, making James blush furiously and Danny bow theatrically, blowing kisses and clasping his hands together at his heart.
Charlie laughed along with everyone, then glanced at his phone, sitting in the small space that was between Nick and Charlie. “Oh,” he said, a small smile on his face. “My sister said that she and my brother will be here in an hour.”
“That’s right, I forgot they were coming,” said Tex, stretching and grinning at Charlie. “Your brother’s a Badgers fan, right Charlie?”
“Right,” confirmed Charlie.
“I’ll convert him to a Sale fan by the end of the afternoon,” remarked Seamus, nodding his head in utterly misguided confidence.
Charlie laughed. “Good luck,” he said. He glanced at Nick, a smile on his face. “He’s already enamoured with pretty much everyone in this room.”
“Impossible not to be,” said Danny, pulling James into an armchair that was just a bit too small for both of them. “We’re enthralling. And hot.”
Charlie grinned and then turned to Nick as the group conversation shifted around them. “Thanks for letting everyone come today,” he said. “Olly and Tori and then like, Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara. It’s so nice to have everyone here.”
Nick smiled back. “I know the feeling,” he said. “I love that feeling of having everyone I care about right here.” He moved his hand towards Charlie without thinking, wanting to place his hand on top of Charlie’s, then pulling it back when he realised what he was doing.
Charlie was looking at Nick, his eyes looking as blue as Nick had ever seen them. “I love that feeling, too,” he said softly. Their eyes stayed on each other for seconds that felt like lifetimes.
“Does that work, Nick?”
Nick blinked. He hadn’t even realised Amy was speaking to him. “Sorry, what?”
“Regan and I are happy to go get champagne and a few other things for tonight so you can be here when Charlie's brother and sister arrive, then I can help with a few of the other things to get everything ready. Does that work?”
“Oh,” said Nick, feeling dizzy from staring into Charlie’s eyes. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, that works. Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“No problem, babes,” said Amy, glancing quickly at Charlie, whose ears were slightly red.
The rest of them drifted around the house, Nick checking on the food order for the night to make sure everything was good to go. Charlie kept checking his phone, and slid off the counter with a giant smile right around 2:00, beaming down at his phone.
“They’re here,” he said, meeting Nick’s gaze, Charlie’s eyes happy and Nick feeling just as happy for Charlie. Nick stayed in the kitchen as Charlie went to leave, then Charlie looked back over his shoulder, looking puzzled. “Aren’t you coming?”
Nick tilted his head. “I - don’t you want the chance to say hi, like - privately?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and gave Nick such a look of fond exasperation that Nick held up his hands, laughing. “Okay. Yes. Pot. My name is kettle. Got it.”
“I knew you’d get there,” said Charlie seriously, then grinning again. He reached back and pulled Nick by the cuff of the sleeve. “Come on!”
Nick followed Charlie out to the drive, where a younger version of Charlie was getting out of the car. Olly was sixteen, and his face was rounder than Charlie’s, not yet quite grown out of his childhood features. He looked even younger when his eyes set on Nick, his whole face lighting up.
“You’re Nick Nelson,” said Olly, breathing the words out in giddy excitement.
“And you’re Oliver Spring,” said Nick with a grin, mirroring the same wide-eyed expression of awe as Charlie’s brother. “I’m so glad you’re here, mate!”
“Ahem!” said Charlie, his arms still outstretched for a hug that seemed not forthcoming. Olly looked away from Nick, going over to his brother and giving him a giant squeeze. The brothers were about the same height, though clearly Olly hadn’t grown into his body yet, his limbs seeming over-long in the way that only teenage bodies could look.
“And I’m here too,” said a dry voice from the far side of the car. Nick looked up and saw who seemed to be the real-life April Ludgate looking at him, sipping from a travel cup with a straw, her eyes lingering on him before sliding over to her brother.
“Tori!” exclaimed Charlie, turning to hug her. Tori gave Charlie a brief but close hug, then drew back. “How was the trip down here?”
“Thrilling,” said Tori dryly at the same time that Olly enthused, “Great!”
Nick chuckled and all three Springs looked at him. He forced down a flush and then turned to Olly. “Charlie said you’re interested in veterinary studies, is that right?”
“Yeah,” said Olly, looking at Nick like he hung the sun. It was overwhelming and adorable. “That’s what I want to study at uni.”
“Reckon you’d like to meet a few friends of mine?” asked Nick. “I know a few Badgers and a few bovines that would love to say hi.”
Olly let out a wild laugh that he choked back, schooling his face a bit and adopting a faux-casual tone. “Uh, yeah. That would be nice,” he said.
Nick grinned. “Let’s start bovine. Charlie, are you in moo-d to say hi to Nellie and Henry?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head at Nick. “Of course. Anything for the girls.”
“First time you’ve ever said that,” Tori quipped, and Nick let out a startled laugh. She looked at him and sipped her drink and Nick felt all of his internal organs retreat, just a little. He thought he saw her mouth quirk up a little at the corner, but he probably imagined it.
The four of them headed to the barn, Olly asking Nick excitedly about the cows and Nick responding back with everything he knew, which was honestly more limited than Olly’s extensive knowledge about livestock.
“Are they breeding stock?” asked Olly as they made their way down to the paddock.
“No,” said Nick. “No breeding for them. They took a cow of chastity when they came here.”
Olly laughed brightly, Tori snorted, and Charlie stopped dead in his tracks to shake his head at Nick.
“That’s brilliant,” choked out Olly, still laughing.
“I like this Spring best,” said Nick, pointing at Olly and earning a broad grin from Charlie’s younger brother.
Nick felt his heart melt a little as he watched Olly fawn over the girls, both Nellie and Henry crowding against the fence to get closer and try to nudge one another out of the way to get more face scratches. Charlie was rubbing their faces, too, and Nick caught Tori giving a few tentative pats to Henry’s neck. They stayed down at the barn for a while, Olly talking gently to the cows and telling them both that they were wonderful. He tagged along close to Nick as they walked back up the hill to the house, Nick asking Olly more questions about what types of animals he liked to work with and how he got interested in veterinary medicine without getting to have animals growing up, a fact that Charlie had shared with him the first week he was at Lavender Fields.
They got back up to the house, and Nick grinned at Olly’s white face, the colour draining out of it as they got to the porch when he caught sight of Danny, James, Seamus, and Tex leaning on the railing or sitting in chairs, all of them grinning as he approached.
“Ah,” said Danny, squinting his eyes and nodding at Olly as they approached. “Lads. This is the competition I’ve heard about,” he announced in an appraising tone. “The one who’s going to kick all of our arses in a scrimmage shortly.”
“Looks the type,” agreed Tex, crossing his arms and looking at Olly as well. “If he’s anything like his brother he’s slicker than pig snot and faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind.” Olly looked utterly confused and Tex laughed and dropped the act, extending his hand as they all made their way on the porch. “Nice to meet you, man.”
“Yes…meet…” said Olly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Hi.” Seamus laughed and went to shake Olly’s hand, too, Danny and James joining him. Olly said it was nice to meet each of them, then blinked and looked back at Nick as if for guidance. “Did he say…something about a match?”
Nick grinned. “He sure did. You up for it?” Olly nodded happily and Nick turned to Charlie. Nick was surprised to see Charlie’s eyebrows drawn together, his face clearing as he saw Nick looking at him. “Hey,” Nick said, softer and quieter. “You all right?”
Charlie blinked and then broke into a soft smile. “Yeah,” he said, the smile making his face look gorgeous. Then his eyebrows went back to a look of mild concern. “You sure you don’t mind, like…playing? I bet you’re tired from getting everything ready, and the match yesterday and stuff…”
Nick narrowed his eyes at Charlie, giving him a playfully suspicious look. “Hmm,” he said. “Sounds like someone’s afraid of getting shown up on the pitch,” he said, arching an eyebrow at Charlie.
Charlie grinned, the worry falling from his face. “Oh, you’re on, old man.”
“Old man?!” exclaimed Nick.
Charlie crossed his arms. “You heard me.”
Nick laughed loudly. “Prove it on the pitch, Springtime.”
The match was fun, a lowkey and friendly passing game more than anything else. Danny had at first refused to take off his new ring, only relenting when Amy told him horrific stories of finger injuries, Danny still not budging until she explained that the rings had to be cut off, the ring ruined. Danny, Olly, Nick, and Seamus played on a team against Charlie, Harriet, Tex, and James, and Nick had to smile at the gentleness, he and Seamus teaming up to shield Olly from any chance of getting touch-tackled so he could get up the side.
Once, Charlie was dashing for Olly, his speed as impressive as always. Nick saw him coming and lunged, grabbing Charlie by the hips and pulling him down and backwards, Charlie landing on top of Nick. They rolled onto the grass laughing, both of their faces close before they each pushed themselves up to get back in the match, Nick feeling the warmth in his neck. He glanced over at the porch, feeling eyes on him. Tori was looking straight at him from where she was sitting with Amy and Regan, both of the latter two yelling and cheerfully trash-talking whoever happened to be closest to them. Tori gave him another long look, this time the side of her mouth definitely moving. At least…he thought.
The match ended with Olly’s team winning, and the lads passed around the rugby ball to one another, each of them signing it before handing it off to Olly and proclaiming him the man of the match. Olly and Tori joined all of them in the dining room for a few minutes after that before Tori quietly told Olly that they needed to go to make it back to the party in London on time.
Nick glanced at his watch, amazed that it was already half five. He had no idea how the hours had passed so quickly. Charlie’s friends were due in around 7, and everyone had to shower and get ready before they were there.
Nick followed Charlie and his siblings outside after they had said goodbye to everyone else. He hugged Olly, Olly returning the embrace shyly, then handed him the rugby ball to make sure Olly took it with him.
“Brilliant to meet you, mate,” said Nick. “You’ll be coming to a Badgers match soon, yeah? You’ll have to go with me and Charlie.”
Olly looked at him in awe, nodding silently. “Yeah,” he finally got out. “That would be amazing.”
“We’ll make it happen,” said Nick, grinning. He turned to say goodbye to Tori, startling a little when he realised she was right there. Jesus, Tori, he thought.
“Nice to meet you, Nick,” said Tori, her voice crisp on the “-k” sound of his name.
“Nice to meet you, too,” said Nick, a little nervously. He moved hesitantly towards her, sensing she might not be as keen for a long, tender embrace like her Lavender-Fields-inhabiting brother was. He extended a hand instead, which Tori paused before taking. “Thank you for bringing Oliver here. I hope…that he had a good time. You and your partner Michael are welcome here any time, you know.”
“Thanks,” said Tori. “And thanks for hosting Charlie here. You seem like a good…friend.” She gave him the ghost of a smirk and then turned to join her brothers.
Nick retreated to let them say goodbye to each other at the car, going back into the house. He saw Tori and Charlie hug, the two of them speaking for a moment before Charlie came back into the house, his ears again adorably pink.
“All right?” asked Nick again.
“Yeah, all right,” said Charlie, smiling back at Nick, his cheeks flushed. “I, uh - I should go get ready, for tonight.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Nick, looking down at his own dirty clothes. “Me, too.” He grinned at Charlie. “See you in a bit?”
“Yeah,” agreed Charlie. He paused, then reached out to briefly touch Nick’s forearm. Nick and Charlie both looked down at the contact, and then back up. The air felt heavy again. It was hot in the dining room. Smouldering. “Thank you, Nick,” said Charlie softly. “For having my family and friends here. It…means a lot.”
Nick swallowed against the tightness in his throat, not sure why Charlie saying that moved him like it did. “You’re…I’m so glad they came, Charlie. I love that you get to see them, and that I get to meet them. I really…I like meeting the people in your life.”
“I like that, too,” said Charlie, looking up at Nick. Then he flushed and stepped back, letting go of Nick’s arm. “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Mm,” agreed Nick, his brain a bit offline at the moment. He had the sense that it would be more than a few minutes. Nick thought his shower might take just a little bit longer than usual.
-
Nick was downstairs and dressed by half six, the food delivery coming just a few minutes later. The caterers set up the buffet and Nick paid them, tipping well for their working on New Year’s Eve. The group started grabbing plates, everyone drifting around and chatting and laughing through the kitchen, dining room, and parlour.
Nick stayed with Charlie, who periodically checked his phone. Elle and Tao arrived first, Nick going with Charlie to greet them, Nick and Elle exchanging a warm hug and Nick and Tao exchanging a Nick-making-it-look-like-he-was-going-in-for-a-hug-to-make-Tao-back-away.
“Come on in,” Nick encouraged them. “Everyone’s inside.”
“Ugh, rugby lads are inside,” said Tao, looking as though this was going to be the hardest night of his life. He glanced at Elle, shooting her and Charlie a look like they had utterly betrayed him.
Nick had pre-planned for this, fortunately. As they walked in, Harriet, with perfect timing, exclaimed, “And that’s why I think The Exterminating Angel is the best film that’s come out of Mexico, ever.”
Tao’s eyes widened and he beelined it for Harriet, not even bothering to introduce himself. “It’s good, yes - incredible, even - but you’ve seen Amores Perros, right? The way the storylines are joined through allegory is undone in the modern era!”
Harriet nodded along, like she wasn’t phased by an immensely tall stranger immediately jumping into film critique.
“You want to talk allegory?” she said. “I mean, it’s a dreamline experience that exposes the complacency of the wealthy elite, tell me that’s not an incredible allegory about modern…”
Nick grinned and gave Elle a wink when she looked at him, Elle laughing brightly and then covering her mouth with her hand. “Well done,” she said, nudging him in the side.
“Thanks,” Nick muttered, smiling back at her. The begging and wheedling of Harriet to help make Tao feel comfortable had clearly paid off, Harriet reluctantly saying that at least her overpriced international education wasn’t going to complete waste. He kept an eye on them for a few moments, seeing Harriet drawing Tao into conversation with Danny and James. Danny immediately seized Tao into a hug and Nick had to turn away to stop from laughing at the bug-eyed expression on Tao’s face, only the area above his nose visible from over Danny’s shoulder.
Charlie joined Nick and Elle, nodding as though impressed. He looked at his phone briefly. “Thirty four seconds before Tao was figuratively and literally embraced by the rugby lads,” he said. “Even better than I expected.”
Nick grinned down at him. Elle rolled her eyes affectionately at her partner and went to join him, immediately welcomed by Danny and Harriet. “Do you want to go over to join them as well?” Nick asked Charlie.
“Nah,” said Charlie, smiling at Nick. “They seem like they’re doing fine on their own to start.” They both chuckled, overhearing Tex enthusiastically telling Tao that he thought Toy Story 4 was one of the best pieces of cinematic art he’d seen in the last 10 years.
Nick and Charlie mingled around with everyone, mostly staying together but occasionally drifting to different groups. Charlie was talking to Elle, Tao, and Seamus when Nick saw the front door open from afar, a shock of blonde hair around the door. It was a woman, a mischievous-looking smile on her face, and Nick both already liked and slightly feared this person he had to assume was either Tara or Darcy.
The woman grinned as she entered fully, a couple of bottles of vodka tucked under her arm. “Gays?” she called. “Gaa-ays?”
Nick was making his way to the front and saw Danny’s head pop out of the kitchen, smiling cheekily. “You rang?”
The woman laughed and pointed at him. “Oh, fuck yes!”
Danny laughed too and made his way over, taking some of the woman’s load and helping her get more things onto the dining room table. “I’m Danny,” he said, looking delighted when the woman gave him a hug.
“Darcy!” she exclaimed, pulling back and patting him on the cheek. “My, are the gays getting bigger?”
“My mum says I will if I eat my veg,” said Danny soberly.
Nick finally made his way over. “Hey,” he said warmly. “I’m Nick. You’re Darcy, yeah?”
Darcy turned towards him, a slow smile coming over her face. “Nick,” she said, saying his name like she’d heard it before. “So good to meet you, my guy.” She opened her arms for a hug and Nick returned it, feeling pleasantly puzzled. She released him and gave him an appraising look. “Charlie wouldn’t show us a picture, you know.” Nick opened his mouth to respond to that, but then Darcy cut him off. “This is Tara, my girlfriend.”
Tara came in, clearly just getting off a phone call with what sounded like a family member, Tara telling the person that she loved them. She and Nick stared at each other, Nick not entirely sure that this was Tara Tara - and then Tara laughed and Nick exclaimed in delight and they rushed towards each other to hug, both of them giggling.
“Oh my god,” squealed Tara. “You’re Nick! Charlie just said it was his friend Nick who he’s been staying with at a bed and breakfast, he didn’t say you were Nicholas Nelson! ”
Nick was looking at her in delighted amazement. “And I can’t believe you’re Tara!”
By this time Charlie had joined them, he and Darcy exchanging a confused but happy look and standing with their arms round each other’s shoulders as Nick and Tara continued to exclaim at one another. “Uh - do you two know each other?” asked Charlie.
Nick grinned. “We do! We went to the same primary school!”
Tara smiled too. “Until we were eleven,” she agreed. “Then Nick went off to his fancy rugby school and we totally lost touch.”
Charlie looked between them, shaking his head. “What are the odds of that?” he mused. “Did you know each other well?”
Nick chuckled. “We did! We were in the same friend group for most of primary. Then, alas…” he looked wistfully at Tara, making his face as ridiculously forlorn as possible. “Tara forsook me.”
“Ohhhhhh,” said Darcy, smirking. “So you were friends, or friends friends?” Danny matched her expression, raising his eyebrows and bouncing them at Nick, making him snort.
Tara laughed. “We did date at age eleven, for the entirety of three days. Nick passed me a note - well, actually, he had Christian pass me a note-”
“-Very well done, Nicky, that is the way to impress a lady,” interjected Danny, Darcy nodding along.
Nick laughed too and took up the story. “And Tara said yes to being my girlfriend. So then naturally we stopped talking for those days and I tried to hold her hand on the bus and she ran away.”
Tara grinned. “Guess it was a sign of things to come, yeah?” She smiled at Darcy, who snuck a hand around Tara to squeeze her bum. “Yeah, ‘dating’ Nick was one of the things that helped me realise I don’t like dating guys.”
Nick smiled at the scene in front of him. “Uh, happy to…help?”
Tara, Darcy, Danny, and Charlie all laughed. Darcy’s eyes sparkled. “We’ve been here over three minutes and have taken shockingly few shots.”
Danny’s eyes lit up. “I knew I liked you.”
Darcy beamed and she, Danny, and Charlie went to get Tao and Elle to make shots for everyone, leaving Tara and Nick together.
“It’s so nice to see you,” said Nick, genuinely. He hadn’t spoken to Tara in nearly two decades, but he remembered how kind and authentic she had been even when they were young.
“You, too!” said Tara, giving his upper arm a pulse. “I feel like I vaguely know some stuff - I thought I had heard that you were playing rugby at some point? But now you’re…here? How does that happen?”
Nick laughed and told her the story of retiring, Sarah buying the inn, and Nick taking it over for a year. The story inevitably drifted into Nick telling Tara about Sarah and the history of Lavender Fields, which of course devolved, Nick acutely aware that he had said Charlie’s name about forty-seven times.
“I’m still so amazed that you know Charlie,” remarked Tara, smiling.
“Yeah, it both feels like he’s been here at Lavender Fields forever and feels like I just met him, too,” said Nick. “He’s…well, yeah, he’s one of the most important people in my life.”
Tara paused before she responded. “I can’t believe you’re the Nick Charlie’s been talking about,” she said, shaking her head wonderingly, an expression on her face that Nick couldn’t quite read.
Nick felt some heat rise up his neck, and the tiny, loud voice in his heart perked up. “Talking about me?” he asked. “What does he…”
“Shots!” said Darcy, pushing cups into his and Tara’s hands, Charlie smiling at Nick. “May we get what we want, need, and never what we deserve!” Nick laughed and tossed the drink back, wincing.
“Jesus,” he said, his eyes watering. “What was that, pure ethanol?”
“With sugar mixed in,” said Darcy angelically.
“Just edge away before she makes you do another,” muttered Charlie, sidling up to Nick. Nick laughed, putting his hand on Charlie’s back and rubbing it for a moment before remembering himself and raising his hand to run through his hair, embarrassed. Charlie looked up at Nick, both of them flushing.
“I - uh…sorry,” said Nick, looking down.
“Don’t be,” said Charlie softly, after a pause, and the tiny voice in Nick started yelling excitedly. Nick whipped his head back up to look at Charlie’s eyes, the blue fixed on his.
Nick held his gaze this time, neither of them dropping their eyes. Nick felt the same crackling electricity that had happened earlier that day, the night before. The night before B. Hope’s boiled ham self came to Lavender Fields. Did Charlie feel it, too? He had to feel it. Maybe that was just because Nick wanted him to feel it, so badly. Then there was another explosion of energy, Darcy and Tara and Elle squealing in delight upon finding out that Danny and James were engaged. That led to more shots and drinks and games.
As the night passed, Nick and Charlie were never far from each other. It was like they were magnetised, pulled together and unable (or unwilling) to separate from each other. In the rare moments that they ended up in other parts of the room or house, they always found their way back to each other. Nick’s heart kept jumping and his stomach was swooping when their arms brushed. James played the piano, and Nick felt the overwhelming urge to lace his fingers in Charlie’s again. Nick even found himself desperately hoping that someone would start a game of Spin the Bottle, a thought that he knew was utterly ridiculous and also about 15 years past its acceptable shelf life.
The clock ticked closer to midnight, and Nick’s nerves prickled thinking about what usually happened on New Year’s Eve. People separated into couples and kissed. It was nearly midnight now, and all of them were now in Nick’s upstairs living room, crowded around and on the couches, the TV turned on to show the London fireworks show as soon as it began. Nick stole a glance around - Tara and Darcy had pulled Harriet into their knot with Elle and Tao, Harriet smiling and chatting with all of them. Amy and Seamus were laughing and talking - that made sense to Nick, since everyone else was coupled up - and Tex and Regan were already stealing kisses even before the clock struck. Danny was bouncing around, handing out 2023 novelty glasses before snuggling behind James, bouncing on his toes and blowing a paper party horn until James finally crumpled it in his hand, making all of them laugh and cheer.
Everyone was together but in their own little groups, and Nick and Charlie’s group was…Nick and Charlie. They stood behind one of the couches, both of them looking around as the conversations paused, the display on the screen showing that there were only 20 seconds to go until midnight. Nick looked over at Charlie and smiled, Charlie returning the look. Nick hesitantly stepped a little closer and put his arm around Charlie’s waist, Charlie doing the same to wrap his arm around Nick, too. Nick felt like he couldn’t quite breathe.
“It’s starting!” yelled Danny, pointing at the TV.
Ten…
Nick glanced down at Charlie, their arms loosely wrapped each other’s waists from the side as they stood next to each other, everyone celebrating and counting down.
Nine…
Nick adjusted his hand to pull Charlie a little tighter, and Charlie stepped closer to Nick’s side. Nick could smell Charlie’s cologne and it was intoxicating.
Eight…
Charlie glanced back at Nick, grinning up to look in Nick’s face. He turned his body so that they were facing each other, and Nick lifted his other arm to link both his hands behind Charlie’s back, almost like they were dancing.
Seven…
Charlie was looking up at Nick, and Nick was looking down at Charlie. Charlie’s eyes were on Nick’s, intent and open. Nick could look at them all day. All his life.
Six…
The group was cheering and chanting around them, but Nick felt like it was just him and Charlie in the room. Charlie’s upper teeth drew across his lower lip just for a fraction of a moment, and Nick couldn’t tear his eyes away from Charlie’s mouth, his perfect mouth.
Five…
Nick moved in an inch closer, and Charlie moved, too, lifting his arms to lightly rest on Nick’s shoulders, his fingers linking around Nick’s neck.
Four…
He could smell the shampoo that Charlie used and it almost made him close his eyes to try to take in more of it.. He could even smell Charlie, that heady combination that Nick would never get enough of. He never wanted to get enough of it.
Three…
Nick couldn’t tear his eyes away; it was impossible. His whole vision was Charlie; Charlie was everything Nick saw. Charlie was everything.
Two…
Their faces were inches from each other, Charlie’s eyes flickering as they looked between Nick’s, the blue colour mesmerising as they looked into Nick’s hazel eyes. Charlie was close, the closest they had ever been.
Charlie’s face - his mouth - his mouth was so, so close.
Charlie was so close.
One.
Notes:
I understand you may have complaints. Please send all feedback to Linda Everton in Human Resources. She will be delighted to receive complaints about Nick and Charlie and asks that you send them via fax as she does not trust computers.
In apology, please enjoy one of the best recipes I have. You’ll need a 13 x 9 jelly roll pan, a baking sheet, and parchment paper.
Remember - the next chapter is on Wednesday around 6:30 am Eastern in the US!
Caramel Sticky Buns
Dough:
3 ½ to 4 c all-purpose flour, divided
⅓ c sugar
1 tsp salt
2 packages yeast
1 c warm milk
⅓ c butter, softened
1 egg, beatenMix 2 cups of flour, the sugar, salt, and yeast in a large bowl. Combine the milk and softened butter in a microwave-safe bowl. Heat in 30-second intervals, stirring and checking the temperature until it is around 120 - 130 degrees F. Once it hits this temperature and the butter melts, add it to the dry mix. Mix with a standing mixer, a pastry blender, or a wooden spoon. Add the egg, mixing until well-combined.
Add enough flour (½ c at a time) until the dough is easy to manage with your hands. Knead the dough with a stand mixer with a dough hook or by hand for 5 minutes until elastic. Move the dough to a greased bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let rise for 90 minutes.
Dough filling:
2 Tbsp softened butter
2 Tbsp brown sugar
2 Tbsp white sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
½ c pecans, choppedDeflate the dough and roll it into a 15 x 10 inch rectangle. Spread 2 tablespoons of softened butter onto the dough. Mix the sugars and cinnamon together in a small bowl, then top the softened butter with the mix. Sprinkle pecans on top. Roll the dough from the long side into a log. Cut the roll of dough into 8 - 12 even slices.
Caramel sauce:
1 c packed brown sugar
½ c butter
¼ c dark corn syrup
¾ c pecans, halvedOnce the dough has risen and you’ve rolled and cut the buns, heat the brown sugar and butter in a saucepan, stirring constantly until it just starts to boil. Remove from the heat and add in dark corn syrup, stirring to just combine.
Pour the caramel sauce onto a 13 x 9 inch baking pan, and place the cut buns on top of the caramel, leaving some space between them. Cover the whole baking sheet with plastic wrap and let it rest for at least 30 minutes. You can also let it rest overnight in the refrigerator.
When you are ready to bake, remove the plastic wrap and put the baking sheet on a larger rimmed baking sheet if you have one, to catch spills. Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 - 35 minutes. After baking, let the rolls sit for 3 minutes. Then remove the baking pan from the sheet. Place a sheet of parchment paper on top and then put a baking tray upside down, on top of the parchment paper. Using an oven mitt, flip over the baking tray so that the buns are sitting on the parchment paper with the caramel sauce on top. Scrape any leftover caramel sauce left in the baking pan onto the buns and serve immediately.
Chapter 19: Midnight
Summary:
Last Time: It’s New Year’s Eve at Lavender Fields.
This Time: It’s New Year’s Day at Lavender Fields.
Notes:
I have some of the most truly lovely humans in the world in my corner. Not only every wonderful human who chooses to read and comment on this story, but also the tiny people who live inside my phone and make my life brighter.
Wavey continues to inspire me by the way they approach the world and make it brighter for all of us. They are constantly making lives wonderful and just created a lovely gift for our friend Tolgrim’s birthday called The Write-Up. It’s so, so fantastic, as are they. They also just published the second-to-last chapter of Narlie Waves, which is devastating in that it is almost over but it’s so powerful and lovely!
NellieSayzBork is a mixture of menacry and thoughtfulness on this fic and is writing As You Are, a brilliant, lovely, and gentle fic.
I received two incredible gifts this week. BeezusRed continued their incredible work about Nellie and Henry’s musings on last week’s chapter in Countdown Moo-sings. It is unhinged hilarity.
And then yesterday I got out of a ridiculously long day of work and received a truly unexpected, amazing gift from Nikki999 and justhowfastthenightchanges. They wrote a brilliant, funny, and personal attack of a fic called The Lavender Squad that you must read. MUST.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Time was frozen, and Nick was frozen. In the hesitating, quivering second after the group chanted, “one”, it was like Nick’s brain had taken a scan of Charlie’s face, recording everything indelibly to his memory.
Charlie’s hair. A few dark strands of his gorgeous hair were falling down across his forehead in carefree, trailing locks. Nick wanted to brush them away from Charlie’s eyes and let them fall again, only to tangle his fingers in them and brush them back again. His fingers tingled with the giddy, terrifying anticipation of what they would feel like.
Charlie’s eyes. They were mesmerizingly blue, looking…expectant? Wondering? Cautious? The way one of his eyebrows sat just a fraction higher than the other. Nick had never noticed it before. It was so endearingly Charlie.
Charlie’s skin. Closer than Nick had ever seen it before. The dark shadow of the hair on his chin. The mouthwateringly sensual smell of the cologne that Charlie used. Nick didn’t know the brand but he could have picked out the scent anywhere, the smell so essentially Charlie.
And Charlie’s lips. The tiny scar on his upper lip, barely noticeable unless you were close, almost too close. Charlie’s mouth, less than six inches from Nick’s, his lips soft and full and slightly parted, shivery black darkness visible through the tiny space between them. They were pink and close and Nick had forgotten the world. His entire world was Charlie, Charlie’s face and eyes and lips right in front of him. It was the only world that Nick knew; it was the only world that Nick cared about, and it was so close.
Then the celebrations broke through, shattering the fragile magic that had stopped the world turning. “Happy New Year!” chorused the group, and Nick registered in his peripheral vision that everyone around them was kissing, embracing, celebrating. Everyone was kissing each other - Tex and Regan, Danny and James. Nick’s eyes flew back to Charlie’s face, and their eyes locked together. Nick could feel himself getting closer, and thought he could feel Charlie’s chest pressing nearly on his, like Charlie was getting closer too. Nick could close his eyes and tilt his neck down, closing the distance between his and Charlie’s mouth in less than a breath.
Nick wanted that.
Nick wanted that so badly.
And he almost did it. He almost leaned forward, changing his life with one tiny motion. But…
Not like this.
Nick didn’t want to kiss Charlie for the first time like this. Not on New Year’s Eve, when everyone kissed everyone else. It was just what people did on New Year’s, it didn’t mean anything special. Nick had even noticed Amy giving Harriet a quick peck before kissing Seamus as well, and how Tara and Elle had exchanged a quick, chaste kiss too. All kisses exchanged, no meaning behind them. New Year’s kisses didn’t necessarily mean anything - it was just a thing you did.
Nick didn’t want Charlie to think that Nick was only kissing him because it was New Year’s - a quick silly press of the lips that meant nothing. To Nick, it would mean everything. Nick could imagine that Charlie might laugh it off as an odd, one-off thing that they’d just pretend like nothing had happened. And god, if Charlie actually did like Nick…Nick didn’t want Charlie to stew and worry that it meant nothing to Nick. Because literally - there wasn’t anything further from the truth.
All of this roiled and swirled in Nick’s brain, the anxieties and desire curling into a complicated mass, choking down his throat and rooting him to the spot. Nick felt a swoop of bitter, achingly resigned disappointment as he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Charlie’s cheek, Charlie’s eyes widening slightly in the fraction of a second Nick could see them. Nick let his mouth linger for just a moment, feeling on fire from the touch of Charlie’s skin on his lips for the first time ever.
“Happy New Year, Charlie,” Nick said quietly, his mouth close to Charlie’s ear.
“Happy New Year’s, Nick,” Charlie said back, his voice a little lower than normal.
Nick forced down a sigh and drew back from Charlie, every cell in his body screaming for him to go back in and kiss the daylights out of Charlie, though his brain knew better. Not like this. Nick started to speak, not sure what he was going to say. “I, um…” He looked over Charlie’s shoulder as if for divine inspiration for what he could say, and his eyes caught something truly baffling.
Amy and Seamus were kissing. No - not kissing. They were tongue-deep in each other’s faces, engaging in a snogging session with a vigour that was shocking. Amy’s hands were in Seamus’s hair and one of his arms was wrapped around her lower back, fingers splayed as he pulled her close.
Nick could feel Charlie’s eyes on his face. Nick distantly caught Charlie following his gaze, Charlie’s eyebrows travelling up his face, his mouth pursing into a tiny, shocked shape. Nick became aware that Danny and James had stopped kissing and were looking at him looking at Amy and Seamus, Tex and Regan doing the same, their heads turning as they glanced between the merrily pashing couple and Nick. Harriet was looking at Nick too, the hand in front of her mouth not quite covering up the smile that Nick could see peeking around her fingers. Eventually even Tara and Darcy and Elle and Tao turned, too, everyone wondering why the room had gotten so quiet. With the relative silence, Amy and Seamus finally cottoned on that there was a change, withdrawing from each other with a wet plunger-like sound that Nick never thought he’d hear emanating from the two of them together.
Slowly, Amy and Seamus turned to look at Nick, who was still staring at them, utterly gobsmacked. Seamus was scratching the side of his head, looking sheepish yet pleased. Amy still had a hand on one of Seamus’s arms, her face looking cautiously at Nick.
“Uh, hey, mate…” Seamus started, his neck a similar colour to Amy’s hair. “We’ve been - meaning to talk to you.”
Nick didn’t respond, still blinking in utter confusion. It must have been an accident. An accident where Seamus fell over and Amy helped catch him and her…tongue cushioned the fall? That was the most logical explanation.
Amy stepped closer, peering at Nick’s face, her hands held up now like she was trying to show Nick that she wasn’t brandishing a weapon. “I know this is probably a little surprising to see. You’re not mad, are you? It would be ridiculous to be mad, but I know this is not what you expected to see tonight, and I know…”
Nick was still standing stock-still, vaguely aware that Charlie was turning away from him, a little hitch to his shoulders as he giggled, though he was trying to do it only through his nose. It was so adorable that Nick almost jolted out of his stupor, but not quite.
Amy looked at Seamus, then Nick again, waving her hand in front of his face as he stood there unmoving, his brain still processing the utter illogic in front of him. She shrugged and turned to Seamus. “Can we just leave? I don’t know how long it takes to reboot a Nick Nelson.”
Charlie’s giggle broke though then, a high, amazing noise that snapped Nick back into his body. “You…” Nick pointed at Seamus. “And you…” he pointed at Amy. “Was this just - did this just happen? Tonight? You just had, like, a New Year’s snog and got overly excited?”
Amy gave a toothy, faked smile and Seamus winced apologetically. “It’s been a bit longer than that, mate,” said Seamus.
“How long?!” Nick demanded.
“A week,” said Amy earnestly, nodding her head to show her emphatic adherence to the truth.
“Ames,” said Seamus.
“A…month,” said Amy, now a bit more defensively.
“Bullshit,” coughed Tex, both he and Regan sporting identical grins. Nick didn’t even bother looking at Danny, who he bet was having one of the top ten moments of his life right now.
Nick’s eyebrows narrowed, his eyes shifting from Tex and Regan to Harriet, who was now openly smirking and suppressing a giggle like Charlie. Nick was beginning to get a little suspicious that this was news only to him. “Did you lot all know!?” he asked, his voice doing the vocal equivalent of adding several interrobangs. The several-second-long silence that followed was unacceptable and Nick scowled.
“I mean, what does it mean to know something,” said Danny musingly, pretending like he was smoking a long french cigarette.
“Okay, it’s been six months,” said Amy in a rush, Seamus grinning sheepishly and looking not nearly as ashamed as he should have been.
“A…a half a year?!” squeaked Nick. “And you didn’t - I didn’t - we - you - when - how?!”
“I’ll take those one at a time, Nicky,” said Amy. “We did. No, you didn’t notice, you cluelessly wonderful little badger baby, but please never change that about you; it’s literally part of your brand. We have been hooking up - sorry, dating,” she said, looking at Seamus like this had been something they had spoken about, Seamus looking chuffed at the correction. “We’ve been dating for six months. It happened over the summer. We met up in Sale when I was there to see a friend and it was…” She blushed, a rare sight for her, hair clashing with her cheeks. “It was great. We’ve been seeing each other since. Didn’t you wonder about all of the weekend trips I was taking?”
Nick spluttered. “But that’s just because - well, you like travelling! And you always said it was so much easier here than it was in Canada because it was so much easier to get around without a car and…” Nick trailed off, still disbelieving. “I thought you just liked trains,” he said, throwing up his hands. There was a beat of silence, and then Danny started in with his high-pitched giggle, the one where when he started it, it was nearly impossible to stop. That got Charlie going, and then that got everyone else going, and soon the whole room was laughing, even Tao.
Nick slapped himself on the forehead with the ridiculous inanity of hearing his own words. “Trains,” he muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Fuck me.”
Amy grinned at him as the giggles and laughter finally died down, Seamus mirroring the expression. “So,” she said, sobering slightly. “Are you, like - are you okay with this?” They were both eying him like the answer actually mattered, and the sweetness of that absolutely melted Nick, cutting through the shock like butter.
“Oh, god, of course I am,” he said, Amy exclaiming and seizing him in a hug, Seamus wrapping himself around both of them. They embraced for a moment more before Nick extricated himself. “I mean, it is disgusting, but if you two are happy, that’s great.”
“It is great,” agreed Seamus, stepping back, Amy draping her arm over his shoulder and smiling at Nick. “The distance thing sucks, but I’ve probably only got a season or so more in me, and who knows where I’ll go after that. We’ve gotten lucky with matches and bye weeks matching up too this season, so it hasn’t been too bad.”
“Yeah, that has been a bummer,” Amy agreed. “It would have been so much easier if we had admitted how we both felt when Shea was on the Badgers. But then again, I had just broken up with Caden and Shea was still with Kate for a lot of that last season….”
“Kate! I miss her,” Danny interrupted, James turning to look at him in surprise. “I should go to a rice cake convention so I can find her and we can catch up.”
“Oi,” said Seamus, but he was laughing.
Amy was pressing her lips together to try to hide the smirk at Danny’s jibe. She schooled her face and turned to Seamus, the look changing out for one that made Nick nervous, one eyebrow going up. “Honestly, the distance thing is kind of fun sometimes, too,” said Amy with a lascivious look. She dropped her voice and addressed Seamus. “Remember a few weeks ago when-”
“Nope,” said Nick, shaking his head. “Nope, nope, nope.” He spotted James, a giant grin on his face as he watched all of this. “JAMES,” Nick bellowed, making James jump and spill his drink. “TIME TO PLAY THE PIANO AGAIN, I THINK YOU SHOULD PLAY A VERY LOUD SONG.”
There was a pause before everyone burst out laughing, Charlie’s friends realising that there was no real heat behind any of this, all of them joining in on the amusement. James winked at Nick and sat down at the piano to play A Thousand Miles, Danny yelling in excitement as soon as he heard the opening notes. Everyone started to chat again or sing along, their voices drowned out by Danny’s terrible but enthusiastic singing.
Nick shook his head and stepped back to survey the scene and try to reassemble his brain. He felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder and looked over to see Charlie looking at him, his face cheeky and full of that Springtime menace.
Nick held up a warning finger, but started laughing before he could even say anything. “Just…don’t,” he said, laughing through the words.
Charlie raised his eyebrows, giggling along with Nick. “I didn’t even say anything!”
“Charles Mariah Stewart slash Carey Spring, I know exactly what you were about to say.”
Charlie burst out in loud laughter, covering his mouth. “That is a new one and I love it almost as much as I hate it.”
Nick was laughing too, shrinking in on himself and trying to make himself small, fitting into Charlie’s chest like he was trying to hide. “Oh my god, Charlie. I had no fucking idea.”
He could feel the movement of Charlie’s chest as he let out a few more giggles, cradling Nick and petting his head theatrically. Maybe Nick needed a lot of pretend comfort right now. A lot. “There, there,” Charlie said in a mock-soothing tone. “I know it’s hard to be the last one in the room to know.”
Nick paused and then drew back, his eyebrows shooting up, tangling his fingers into his own hair in genuine surprise and confusion. “The last one in the room…” He looked suspiciously at Charlie. “Did you know?”
“No!” Charlie protested, suppressing another chuckle, his eyes flickering to Nick’s hair. Nick distractedly brushed through it again to settle the strands. Charlie’s arm moved like he was going to help Nick, but then he stopped. “Well, not officially. But, like, Nick…didn’t you even have some sense that, like…maybe they were hooking up?”
“Did you?” asked Nick incredulously.
“Of course,” Charlie scoffed, and Nick felt dizzy with confusion. “Don’t you remember a few months ago where Danny made some joke about ‘Seamus on Amy’?”
Nick pulled his eyebrows together, genuinely trying to recall. It was a vague memory that he was able to pull up with difficulty from one of the nights when the Badgers were here alongside Charlie for the first time. “Oh. Oh! No, Charlie, he said something about 'shame on Amy’.”
Charlie’s lips rolled together like he was trying to suppress a smile. “Oh, Nick.” He laughed, not unkindly. “He said ‘Seam on Amy’, like short for Seamus.”
Nick’s eyes widened as he took it in. “Oh my god,” he said, shaking his head.
“And…” Charlie hesitated, his voice wobbly from the strain of trying to keep the laughter out now. “Did you not wonder why Seamus’s bed always looked perfectly made? I sincerely doubt that he’s slept in it any of the times they’ve both been here.”
Nick dropped his head to Charlie’s shoulder, gently tapping his forehead against the bones over and over, like he was scolding himself. “I just thought he was neat,” he said in faux-despondency, this time Charlie’s laughter finally breaking through, Charlie giggling and patting his back. “I thought he just really cared about re-making his bed in the mornings.”
Charlie’s laugh was loud and it made his chest move, bouncing Nick’s forehead that he kept pressed to Charlie’s shoulder. “Trains. Beds. Oh, Nick. You amazing, clueless rugby king.”
Nick picked up his forehead and rolled his eyes at himself, flushing as he and Charlie laughed together. Fuck - how could he have missed all of that? He thought now about all of the times he had called Seamus who was driving back from an airport or train station on Sundays, or all of the Sundays that Amy was on her way back from somewhere. He thought of the times that Amy and Seamus had both coincidentally stayed back at Lavender Fields as everyone left to go for a walk or something, and he shuddered to think of what had happened when they had stayed behind. Nick appreciated that sexuality was private for most people and that everyone deserved to be with people who they…wanted…but the idea of Seamus and Amy wanting each other? Gross. They were both like siblings to him and that was gross. If it worked for them, that was great, but Nick needed a little bit of time to let that one settle in. He shivered again, forcing the image of what he knew to be Seamus’s hairy arse out of his brain, realising starkly how clear it was that bisexual people were not attracted to everyone they met.
The next couple of hours were a blur of fun, singing, games, drinking, and Nick studiously avoiding looking at Amy and Seamus as they apparently tried to make up for lost time of not kissing in front of Nick. James played a few songs on the piano and it turned into a massive group karaoke session, Nick enjoying the fact that music seemed to make it more acceptable to place an arm around the person standing next to him, especially since he was always standing next to Charlie. They were never far apart, and Nick never wanted to be far apart from Charlie. Maybe ever.
They laughed when they went into the kitchen and found Seamus, Danny, and Darcy hunched over the chocolate cake that Nick had served alongside the buffet dinner, a simple recipe that everyone loved. Danny hissed like a cockroach when Nick and Charlie discovered them, and Darcy grinned through chocolate-frosted teeth. Danny and Darcy joined up in a tornado of sugar-high chaos just a few minutes later, inventing a game where everyone tried to toss peach rings onto a drink straw.
The drinks were still flowing even at half one, though Nick was trying to control his pace. He didn’t want to be drunkenly stumbling up the stairs in front of Charlie as they went to to the room that they were fucking sharing this evening, and he especially didn’t want any chance of him overindulging himself and getting sick, though it had been a good few years since that had happened. Nick took to nursing a few drinks after it struck midnight, alternating with some water, too.
Around two, Regan and Tex were the first to go up, giving hugs to everyone and saying goodnight. Danny and James weren’t long after, Danny giving a frankly filthy-looking wave and wink to everyone before leaving. Nick realised that he needed to snap into host mode to get Elle, Tao, Darcy, and Tara set up. They had already hooked up Darcy and Tara’s camper van to power and water, so Nick just brought out some fresh towels and lavender soap for them, both women thanking him profusely and drunkenly, Darcy far more so than Tara. Nick absently thought that it was unlikely that they’d see Darcy any time before one, and noted that he needed to save her a caramel sticky bun, hiding it from Seamus’s raccoon-like foraging abilities.
Elle and Tao were next, and Elle weakly protested that they shouldn’t be taking Nick’s room, though it seemed as if Charlie had warned her that Nick wasn’t going to budge on it. Nick didn’t, and he said goodnight to the two of them, dropping towels on top of the freshly changed bed and wishing them goodnight.
He double checked that he had everything that he needed for the morning set up in the kitchen, and then grabbed the small overnight bag that he had packed from the hallway. Nick felt a little ridiculous packing an overnight bag in his own (sort-of) house, but he had worried endlessly about what he should wear to bed while sleeping in the same room as Charlie, as well as what he could wear when they woke up in the morning. Between not sleeping the night before, drinking, and his mind constantly thinking about Charlie, Nick was bone-tired when he climbed the stairs to the room that he and Charlie were sharing. Amy and Danny had gone upstairs earlier in the afternoon, offering to help split the bed into their twin mattress components, and Nick was endlessly grateful for that. It wasn’t complicated, but was a bit of a pain in the ass - you had to unstrap the pieces that wrapped around the mattresses and then unhook the frames that latched together. Then both beds would need to be made, since when they were together they fit king sheets and blankets.
Nick walked down the hall, his heart beating faster the closer he got to Charlie’s room. Charlie had gone up a little before him, and Nick had hung back a moment or two longer to let Charlie get changed and do…whatever he needed to before Nick got up there. Nick had already gone to the toilet and brushed his teeth downstairs, wanting to avoid as much potential awkwardness as he could, hoping to avoid the en-suite washroom as much as possible. He’d just see what Charlie was wearing to bed and try to match his…dressing style? as closely as he could, changing at lightning speed in the bathroom before joining Charlie in the room again.
Nick approached the door, which was just barely opened. He wondered for a moment if he should knock, eventually settling on a light tapping before he opened the door, Charlie looking at him, the room light off. There was moonlight streaming in from the window, the curtains still open, and Nick’s eyes fell on the bed. The bed. As in the singular, unseparated bed.
Nick was going to kill Amy.
“I didn’t know how to…” Charlie said, gesturing helplessly at the bed. He was wearing a hooded jumper and long, rumpled sleeping pants, and looked so utterly adorable that Nick’s panic nearly flew from his chest. Though not entirely as he eyed the Hallmark-movie-esque trope literally in front of him.
“Oh,” said Nick, nodding dumbly as he closed the door behind him and stepped forward. “Yeah…”
“Amy told me how to,” Charlie said, his eyes looking like they were glittering in the faint light coming in through the window. “But I wasn’t sure if I could move the bedframe myself, and I also didn’t want to make too much noise since most everyone is sleeping by now, I think.”
“No, I can do it,” said Nick. Though Charlie had a good point, it was a little loud to latch and unlatch all of the metal bed frame pieces from each other. God, he was so drained. He let his overnight bag fall to the ground with a thump and sat down on the near edge of the bed for a moment. Maybe it wasn’t drained as much as overwhelmed. He was overwhelmed by the idea of sharing a room with Charlie, and the idea of sharing a bed with Charlie seemed far too intimidating. Nick could barely stop his hands from reaching out to take Charlie’s or caress his arm or touch his face nearly every minute of the day, and he feared that his sleeping body would end up wrapped fully around Charlie, drawn like an irresistible magnet. Nick’s body was swirling in anxiety as he pondered what to do, but there was something else there, too. There was also the giddy, sickeningly real possibility that he might share a bed with Charlie tonight.
A bed.
Even with the anxiousness in his belly, Nick felt something else, too. He felt a tiny spark of hope that maybe this…maybe this could be, like, a first next step. Maybe he’d feel braver after sleeping in the same room as Charlie tonight, and then maybe, maybe tomorrow night he'd be able to properly talk to Charlie. He could take a few hours tomorrow to step away and write down all that he was thinking, write down all of the things he wanted Charlie to know. There were so many. Nick wanted Charlie to know how he felt about him, he wanted Charlie to know that not a day went by that Charlie wasn’t on Nick’s mind, he wanted Charlie to know how goddamn gorgeous he was, inside and out. Tomorrow. Nick felt the anxiety in his belly curl into a pleasantly sparking flame in his chest, warming and terrifying him. The idea that if, if Charlie felt the same way tomorrow night, then maybe…
Charlie sat on the bed next to Nick and Nick’s heart quickened. There was maybe a foot between them, maybe less. Nick’s skin was glowing, his nerves crackling in the half-dark.
“Hi,” said Charlie quietly.
“Hi,” Nick said back, his voice feeling unsteady in his throat.
There was a long pause when neither of them said anything. A thousand thoughts rushed through Nick’s mind. A thousand feelings flooded his body, pooling in his stomach and working their way through his limbs and chest. The silence stretched on, pulling at Nick until he shifted, his skin feeling tight. When Charlie finally spoke, Nick tried to suppress his jump.
“Earlier,” said Charlie, his voice soft. “After the countdown.” Nick’s breath caught and he tried to steady his inhales, his exhales. “You - you kissed me on the cheek,” said Charlie. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Nick felt dizzy.
Nick’s mouth was too dry. “Yeah,” he said, wanting to say more and not knowing how to say all of the things he wanted to. Or any of them.
Nick could hear the muted sound of Charlie swallowing before he spoke again, Charlie pausing before he did. “I didn’t want that,” said Charlie, and in the half-second before he spoke again, Nick felt a plummeting regret, a terror that he had ruined everything. His vision was tunnelling, sound rushing through his ears when Charlie’s voice came out again, quiet and clear.
“I wanted more.”
Nick could just make out the features of Charlie’s face in the dim, soft darkness of the room. It took him a moment to actually understand what Charlie said. “You wanted…” His heart was going even faster now, if possible. Nick felt like there were jolts of electricity sparking between them. There was a thin line of fire from Nick’s belly crawling through his veins, his skin buzzing.
Charlie’s breath sounded fast and light, the words coming out soft and tinged with nerves. “Nick,” he said, and Nick felt like his whole body was poised, waiting, like the entire world was waiting on whatever Charlie said next. Charlie hesitated, and Nick’s skin was lightning, sparking and crackling. “Would you…” Charlie paused. “Would you date someone who wasn’t a girl?”
Nick’s body was vibrating and his body was lead, pulled to the bed and unable to get up. He felt like everything in his body was in motion, yet he couldn’t have moved a muscle if he wanted to. Nick never wanted to move away from Charlie.
“Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes on Charlie’s face, Charlie’s beautiful features coming into greater clarity as his eyes adjusted to the moonlight. Nick’s hand was on the bed between them and he could imagine that he could feel the heat off of Charlie’s body. Charlie’s hand was inches away, and Nick subtly moved his hand so that there was only a sliver of space between their pinkies.
Charlie’s voice was a whisper into the dark. “Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”
“Yeah,” Nick said again, the word rough. There was a pause, and Nick begged Charlie to ask another question. The question that could come next. Please, please ask me, Charlie. Please, Charlie, he begged in his mind, his whole soul aching for Charlie to ask, for Charlie to want like he wanted. Nick pressed his hand over the tiniest distance, his and Charlie’s pinkies touching at the top knuckle. The contact made Nick want to cry. His whole chest was tight and aching.
There was a deliciously excruciating stretch of time that passed, a second that felt like an hour. Then Charlie’s pinky finger curled around Nick’s on the bed, and Nick heard his own breath audibly catch in his throat. Nick looked down at their hands, then back at Charlie’s face, his heart swelling and tender.
Charlie’s voice was a throaty whisper.
“Would you kiss me?”
Nick could feel every piece of his body glowing, bursting, sparking. He was trembling and it felt like his chest was a flower, opening and expanding and raw, exposed fully for the first time. He didn’t know when he had turned his entire body to face Charlie’s. Their faces were close, and Nick raised a shaking hand to touch Charlie’s cheek. Charlie’s breath hitched when Nick touched his face, his lips parted again and his eyes on Nick’s.
“Yeah,” breathed Nick, never looking away from Charlie. He could never look away from Charlie. Nick dropped his hand and moved his head and Charlie did too, and Nick closed his eyes at the last possible moment before their lips touched, not willing to lose sight of the most incredible thing he had ever experienced. And then their lips touched and everything Nick Nelson knew disappeared in an instant.
It wasn’t a long kiss, just a few seconds. Their mouths met, Charlie’s lips so soft against Nick’s as they did, both of their mouths open slightly. Nick pressed back once more and Charlie did too, before they both drew back, their faces close to each other, foreheads nearly touching. Everything was racing through Nick’s body and mind at lightspeed, thrills and terrors shooting up and down every nerve. He was trembling as they separated, torn between wanting to shout out in joy and being terrified about what Charlie thought, what Charlie wanted. They both drew back at the same time, Nick looking down for a moment to try to collect himself, gather his wits and his muscles back together, both of which had melted. In those moments that they had kissed, Nick’s entire life had shifted. He felt what it was like to kiss someone he truly ached for; someone who sent sparkling energy running in rivulets down his spine. He now knew what it was like to do the thing he had thought about for literal weeks - to get to kiss and touch and hold Charlie Spring. It was better than he ever could have imagined. The lyrics from the song that Harriet sang the night before drifted back into his brain, and his throat tightened.
It was perfect as if god himself wrote it
I’d be fine dying if my life were only this moment
Nick shifted his gaze back to their hands, their pinkies still loosely hooked together. Nick had a moment of startling clarity where he wondered why the fuck he wasn’t still kissing Charlie Spring. He slid his hand into Charlie’s, tangling their fingers, a tiny gasp coming out of Charlie. Charlie looked back up and their eyes met again. This time Charlie pressed forward first to kiss Nick, and as their lips met, Charlie lifted his hand and wrapped it around the side of Nick’s neck, his fingers on Nick’s skin and brushing the hair at the base of his neck. Nick choked back a sound that tried to come up through his throat, one of such intense longing and relief and desperate joy, like he had been thirsty for months and this was the first drink of cool, quenching water.
At the same time, as their mouths pressed together, exhales coming faster through their noses, kissing Charlie made the spark in Nick’s veins burst into wildfire, the heat consuming him and threatening to make him combust. Nick reached out and wrapped his arm around Charlie, drawing them even closer together as their kiss grew deeper, Nick tilting his head, every one of his senses alive and alight with the feeling of Charlie, the smell of Charlie, the sounds and tiny changes in Charlie’s breathing as they kissed. Nick could have kissed Charlie for hours - days - and he chased the last kiss that Charlie left, his neck stretching out to follow the lips that he craved more of.
Their faces were close, neither of them looking away. Charlie’s hand was still on his neck, and Nick thought he would have floated away without the feeling of it there. Charlie was looking at him with soft eyes and his voice was gentle when he spoke.
“You okay?”
Nick was too trembly and in shock to answer honestly, which would have been laughing and telling Charlie that he was far from okay. He was the best he had ever been. He was on fire. He was floating. He was living everything he’d dreamed about for a month. He was alive.
Nick opened his mouth to respond. “I…”
“Nick, are you up here?”
Nick started and Charlie jumped, both of them turning their heads towards the door where Seamus had called out.
“Hey, mate, if you’re in there, I just wanted to ask-”
“We’re ASLEEP!” The second word came out more of a bellow than Nick had intended.
“Oh. Uh, right. Sorry, lads. I’ll uh - I’ll catch up with you in the morning, Nelson!”
Nick let out a shaky sigh and Charlie laughed unsteadily, the sound breathless. Nick turned his head again to face Charlie, lifting his hand hesitantly to cup Charlie’s cheek like he had always wanted to, moving slowly. He made contact and Charlie closed his eyes with a tiny sigh, one that sent a surge of feeling up into Nick’s belly. “Char…” Nick started.
Charlie opened his eyes and there was a long moment between the two of them, both staring into each other’s eyes as Nick traced his thumb along Charlie’s cheekbone. Charlie’s eyes half-closed and he let out another small sound, this time with a tiny whimper in his breath. Then it was like an invisible hand pushed them together, Nick pulling Charlie towards him, or maybe Charlie surged towards Nick. They were kissing again, Nick’s stomach swooping, and Nick moved his hand from Charlie’s cheek around on Charlie’s head into his hair. Nick ran his fingers against Charlie’s scalp as their lips pressed together, softer, then harder again. He tangled his fingers in Charlie’s curls over and over, and this time Charlie moaned, and Nick was done. Gone.
Nick made an involuntary noise in his throat, a noise of aching and want, and Charlie’s arms were pulling him back, back onto the bed. They lay on their sides, their legs hanging uncomfortably off the bed at an odd angle until Charlie broke their kiss to fully move onto the bed, his head on one of the pillows, pulling Nick by his shirt. Nick followed, chasing his lips and then kissing him again. This time Charlie opened his mouth more and Nick felt the soft, velvety swell of Charlie’s tongue brush against his own. Nick couldn’t suppress his own moan this time and moved so his chest was closer to Charlie’s, then wrapped his arm around Charlie to press Charlie’s body closer.
Charlie reached around to gently rest his fingers in Nick’s hair, and Nick groaned again, breaking the kiss to draw his head back as the sound escaped, his neck long and extended. It took effort to bring his head back, and when he did, he saw Charlie’s eyes on his. Nick lunged forward to kiss Charlie again, the wildfire growing and billowing through his body, the heat starting in his chest and spreading all throughout his trunk and limbs. Charlie’s tongue was in his mouth and his was in Charlie’s, the two of them pulling each other closer and grabbing at each other’s arms or back or neck to draw their chests close.
Nick could feel the heat expanding all through him and wanted so badly to take off his jumper, but he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His mind prickled absently, knowing that he needed to properly talk to Charlie about, well - everything. About how he felt, about how Charlie felt, about the fact that Charlie’s engagement had ended just three months prior. But the idea of not kissing Charlie was almost laughable, not when his soft mouth was on Nick’s and Charlie’s hands were tangled in his hair and occasionally pulling it a little. Not when this was happening. But Nick got warmer and warmer and finally he pulled back with a gasp, though he leaned back in to leave one more soft, gentle kiss on Charlie’s lips before pulling away.
Charlie was looking at him, his breath coming in shallow and rapid like Nick’s. Nick took in a deeper breath to try to cool himself, slowing his breathing as much as possible with how much his body was racing. He reached out a hand and touched it gently to Charlie’s neck, almost to convince himself that this was real and he was here with Charlie. He was kissing Charlie. He was laying in a bed with Charlie. Charlie closed his eyes under Nick’s touch and it took everything in Nick to not kiss him again, feel what it would be like if Charlie rolled over to hover above Nick and kiss him. That would be…
“You okay?” Charlie asked again, his eyes soft, with a tiny hint of worry to them. Nick moved his hand to smooth the creases between Charlie’s eyebrows, tracing his finger over the one that sat just a bit higher.
“God, yes,” said Nick, letting out a quiet half-laugh. “I am so okay, Charlie.” Charlie’s expression softened and Nick saw the corner of his mouth turn up a little. “But…” Nick’s heart was racing again. “Are you?”
Charlie looked at him, his eyebrows drawing back towards each other like he was confused. “Am I…?”
“Are you okay?” repeated Nick. “With…this? With…us being, like…” Nick lifted his hand off Charlie’s face to give a weak gesture at the two of them on the bed, their faces inches from each other.
“Nick,” Charlie whispered, and the way he said his name made Nick desperately glad that he was laying down as he thought his legs would have given out at the throaty fullness of the way it sounded. “I am…” He closed his eyes and Nick reached out his hand again to play with the short hairs at the base of Charlie’s neck, Charlie breaking off and making a soft sound. Now that the dam had broken, Nick felt like he couldn’t touch Charlie enough. Charlie opened his eyes with what looked like some effort.
“I’ve wanted this for months.”
The way his voice sounded made Nick blink, like his own aching and wanting was reflected in Charlie’s tone. Nick moved his hand to trail his fingers down the side of Charlie’s neck, then traced his jawline. Charlie closed his eyes again and leaned his head back. God, Nick wanted to press his face into Charlie’s neck. “You’ve…”
Charlie’s eyes opened again and found Nick’s. “I’ve wanted this for months,” he repeated, a modicum of anguish in his voice. Nick’s heart twisted with fondness and empathy and euphoric delight that Charlie might feel the same way that he did. “I just…god, Nick,” he said, shaking his head, his blue eyes looking like they were sparkling in the milky light spilling in. “You’re so amazing.” Nick felt like he heard Charlie’s voice break and he couldn’t take it, pulling Charlie closer, their chests pressing together. Now that they weren’t kissing any more, Nick’s temperature was going down, though it was fractional. He wrestled the arm underneath himself free and scooted the two of them down, laying his arm so Charlie could rest his head on it. With his other hand, Nick rubbed between Charlie’s shoulders, his thumb making circles.
When Charlie spoke again, it was still shaky, his voice filled with emotion and his forehead against Nick’s. Nick was so glad he had brushed his teeth. “You’re so kind, Nick. When I got here you were so kind and caring and lovely, and you were the friend I needed. You could have just been someone who kept an inn and I could have just been a customer.” Charlie looked at Nick, and Nick could see the emotion in his blue eyes even in the weak light. “You treated me like I was a friend,” Charlie went on, and Nick brushed his fingers up through the shorter hairs above Charlie’s ear and then trailed back down to the hairs at the base of Charlie’s neck. “You treated me like I wasn’t…broken. I felt broken, Nick. I felt broken when I got here, like I was so broken and wrong that a fiance who cares so much about appearances was willing to cancel a wedding the night before. I was so embarrassed and ashamed and convinced that I was someone that people just, like…tolerated.” Nick’s heart was hurting and he wanted to kiss the words away, but he knew that Charlie had more to say.
“But you, Nick…” Charlie took a shuddery breath and Nick stroked his cheek with the back of his two fingers. Charlie closed his eyes again before opening them and going on. “You were so kind. Are so kind,” he corrected, both of them half-laughing through their noses. “You pay attention to the things I say and you remember them. You act like you care about what I say. You brought me places and spent time with me, even though you didn’t have to. We have so much fun together, too…” Here, Charlie trailed off again and the happy expression on his face when he had been talking about Nick dimmed a little. “I felt like I hadn’t…I hadn’t had fun in ages. Not with someone that I was with. With Ben.” Nick tried to keep the scowl off his face, imagining the ways he thought Charlie probably tip-toed around Ben, never sure what was going to annoy him.
“You’re fun and you’re kind and you’re so thoughtful,” Charlie went on, touching Nick’s neck with the pads of his fingers and drawing little motions with them that made Nick feel like his muscles were liquid. “And hate to be the one to tell you this, but you are fit as fuck.” Nick burst out in a startled laugh that he tried to keep quiet, Charlie giggling at his response. Charlie let his hand drift onto Nick’s arm, his thumb tracing along the muscles in his bicep and shoulder. Nick tried very very hard to not flex. “The idea of getting to kiss someone like you felt…impossible,” said Charlie softly. “Like, the idea of being with even a person like you felt impossible, but actually being with you - you felt even more impossible.”
“I felt…?” Nick started, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Well, I had no idea how you felt,” said Charlie. “Feel? I…” he huffed out a breath. “I mean, you’re…I guess…I just assumed you were straight?” Charlie asked it like a question, like it has been living in his brain for ages and desperately needed answering.
Nick gave a half-smile and bent the arm that Charlie’s head was resting on so his fingers of that hand could play in Charlie’s hair while the other smoothed his thumb over Charlie’s upper arm, over and over. “You and me both,” Nick said wryly, before releasing both of his hands and pulling Charlie into a close embrace. Nick turned slightly so he was on his back and Charlie was laying with his head against Nick’s chest, Nick’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s body. Nick felt the prick of tears again behind his eyes as he thought about how long he had wanted this and how perfectly right it felt.
“I had no idea either at first,” Nick admitted. “I had just always…I’d always assumed I was straight, yeah. I’ve only dated women in the past, I’ve only ever talked about having crushes on women with other people.” Nick tilted his head down so his lips were against Charlie’s hair. “But then it was you, Charlie,” he said, his voice husky. “You…god.” He pressed a kiss to Charlie’s head to give his shaky voice a moment to recover before going on. “I met you, Charlie, and you changed literally everything for me.” It was easier this way, to be able to say this while holding Charlie but not having to look at him. Nick could have looked at him forever, but this felt…easier. For now. “Meeting you, like - set me down this path. I was having all of these feelings for you that I couldn’t explain. It’s like I had known the world one way, then I met you. Then I questioned literally everything - like, Charlie, everything.” Charlie hummed against his chest, a questioning sound.
Nick took a breath before he spoke again, the weight of Charlie’s head on his ribs a grounding anchor. “I just, like - looked back on my life and the things I had thought about and liked and all of that. I realised that I like more than just women.” At that, Charlie lifted his head up so he was looking at Nick’s face, his eyes gentle and wondering, “I like…I like men, too,” Nick said, brushing back the curls from Charlie’s face again. “I figured out that I’m bisexual.” Nick could hear Charlie’s soft intake of breath and saw his face change, a glowing brightness, Charlie’s mouth turning slightly up at the corners. “But mostly, Charlie, I figured out that I like you,” said Nick, combing his fingers through the hair just above Charlie’s forehead and letting his fingers slide down the side of Charlie’s face.
Charlie’s head was still up, his eyes bright and searching Nick’s. “You…like me?” His face looked like he didn’t dare believe it. Nick could feel the minute quivering of Charlie’s muscles in his neck as he asked.
Nick startled out a laugh. “Uh, yeah,” he said, grinning stupidly and shaking his head. “Wasn’t that obvious?” Charlie laughed in a huff of relieved-sounding joy and Nick joined him, both of them sniffling a little and staring at each other’s eyes. “...Do you like me?”
Charlie blinked, then his face split into a bright smile. “Yes, obviously,” he said, Charlie the one shaking his head now. “I’ve liked you for months, Nick!”
Nick raised his head now and looked at Charlie, his eyes wild. “I’ve liked you for months!”
Charlie dropped his head on Nick’s chest, groaning and laughing, and Nick laid his cheek on Charlie’s hair. “Oh my god,” said Charlie, the smile still clear in his voice. “Why are we like this?”
Nick laughed loudly and then tried to stifle it, remembering the late hour. They lay on the bed close to each other, giggling on and off. Nick would stop and then Charlie would start again, and that would make Nick start laughing again and bounce Charlie’s head on his chest and then Charlie would giggle and…It took a while for them to calm down. Once they finally did, Nick realised he was roasting hot again, between the laughing, Charlie’s body on his, and the intense attraction still electrifying Nick’s body.
He reached one hand to touch the hem of his jumper and hesitated. Charlie seemed to catch the movement and turned his head so he could see Nick’s face again. “All right?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, grinning at him. “God, I’m just so hot.”
“Yeah you are,” said Charlie, then blushed brilliantly enough that Nick could even see it in the dark.
Nick snickered. “Charlie Spring. Are you flirting with me?”
“Nicholas Nelson, I have been flirting with you since the last calendar year.”
“Okay, yes, that’s a fair dig,” admitted Nick, laughing softly again. “But, no, like, literally. D’you - do you mind if I take this off?” He gestured to his jumper.
Charlie’s eyes widened. “N-no,” he said, his eyes darting down to look at Nick’s chest and stomach, covered by the fabric.
“Are you sure?” Nick wanted to be absolutely, entirely confident that Charlie was comfortable.
“Please take it the fuck off,” breathed Charlie.
Nick laughed and kissed Charlie’s forehead before sitting up. “Actually, I’ll just get in sleep clothes now, too. Sleeping in jeans sounds like a shit idea.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, still sounding a little breathless.
Nick got up and stood looking at Charlie on the bed. Unable to physically stop himself, he leaned down and kissed Charlie again on the mouth softly, drawing back twice before finally, painfully, pulling himself away. “I - uh…do you want to get up?” Charlie looked at him, his eyebrows contracted in confusion. “So I can separate the beds?” Nick clarified. He didn’t want to do that, for several significant reasons.
Charlie started to respond, hesitated, stopped. “Do…do you want to separate the beds?”
“No,” said Nick immediately, his mouth acting before his brain.
“Oh,” said Charlie, his eyes huge and his mouth pulling to the side in a tiny smirk. “I don’t want you to do that, either.”
“Oh,” said Nick, his breath gone this time. “Okay. Well. Yes. Good. Okay. I’m going to…I’m going to go change, then,” he said. Nick bolted into the bathroom and struggled to get off his jeans, catching them on his calves and nearly falling over in his haste to get back to Charlie. He pulled on a pair of long athletic shorts, momentarily worried that the soft fabric wouldn’t hide…anything…if Nick got, uh, aroused in his sleep. He debated sleep pants but figured it wouldn’t make a difference, and just prayed that Charlie was a hard sleeper. And that Nick wasn’t. He snorted to himself at his own joke, then sobered. Come on Nelson.
Nick stripped off his jumper and did one last check in the mirror, his hair wild from Charlie’s fingers. Nick loved that. He rinsed once more with mouthwash and came out of the bathroom, Charlie laying on the bed now, slightly propped against the pillows.
Charlie sat up sharply when Nick came in, eyes widening. “Wow,” he said in a low, throaty tone.
Nick glanced down at his torso. He wasn’t quite in the same shape that he was with rugby, but he was proud of the strong lines of his body, even if he wished some of the softness would go away. “I, uh…have you really not seen me shirtless?”
Charlie shook his head for a long time before responding. “Nope. I would have, ah, remembered if I had.” He blushed again before hiding his face slightly in one of the pillows, peeking his eyes out a few times and making Nick laugh.
“Well, I should have asked if you had a licence first, you know,” said Nick, putting on a look of concern.
Charlie turned his head and sat back up. “What?”
Nick flexed his arms in front of him. “To see the firearms I’m packing.”
Charlie let out a hoot of laughter, clapping his hand over his mouth and falling back into the pillows. Nick laughed too, chasing after Charlie as he climbed back into bed, gently pulling his hand away. Their faces were close again, and Nick felt the smile fade from his face a little as the feelings for Charlie surged up through his body again. God, he couldn’t believe Charlie was there and real and warm and in the same bed as him. Charlie wanted to be in the same bed as him.
Nick saw Charlie’s teeth rake over his bottom lip and Nick felt a shiver run through his own body. He pressed forward at the same time Charlie did, their mouths meeting, lips warm and then hot as they turned their heads. Nick thought his spine melted when Charlie’s tongue came back into his mouth, and Nick responded back with enthusiasm, wrapping one of his arms hard around Charlie and kissing him like he was trying to express three months’ longing into it. Charlie seemed to get it, at least to a degree, and he moaned as he pressed back against Nick, his lower leg wrapping around Nick’s as they lay facing each other on the bed. The sound that Charlie made made Nick feel momentarily faint, and he drew back to breathe deeply and remember the goddamn athletic shorts he was wearing that were made out of material that was basically glued onto his dick. Nick wanted more. He was terrified of more. He wanted this. He wanted…
God, he wanted everything.
But not yet. They needed to - they needed to talk, properly. Charlie was just out of a relationship. Nick was leaving in six months. Charlie was going back to London. There were so many things swirling in his head, but Nick didn’t want to think about any of them. He just wanted to kiss Charlie Spring. So that’s what he did, going back in and kissing Charlie gently, Charlie returning with the same speed and sweetness. Despite all that was rushing through him, Nick distantly clocked how exhausted he was. It had to be nearly four in the morning now, and he saw Charlie’s blinks get longer and slower. Nick gave Charlie one last, long, soft kiss and then gently pulled at Charlie’s shoulder so his back was to Nick.
Marla had always complained about Nick smothering her while they slept, but Charlie just made a happy sound when Nick wrapped around him, and Nick was again glad the bed caught him before he fell entirely through the earth at Charlie’s tiny noise. He kissed Charlie on the shoulder several times, slowly, hearing Charlie’s breathing settle and slow. Nick gave Charlie one final, gentle kiss on the nape of the neck and settled in, his arms and his heart full.
It was perhaps the best start to a new year Nick could ever imagine.
Notes:
Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting
This is just a modified version of the Hershey’s perfectly chocolate cake, and it is astoundingly good!
Cake
2 cups sugar
1 ¾ c all-purpose flour
¾ c dark cocoa
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 ½ tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 c milk
½ c vegetable oil
1 T vanilla
1 tiny dash lemon juice
1 c boiling waterHeat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round baking pans.
Stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. Add the eggs, milk, oil and vanilla, and a tiny dash of lemon juice; beat on medium speed of mixer 2 minutes. Stir in boiling water (the batter will be thin). Pour the batter into the prepared pans.
Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Cool the cakes for 10 minutes; then remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost.
Frosting
½ c butter (1 stick)
⅔ c dark cocoa powder
3 c powdered sugar
⅓ c milk
1 tsp vanillaMelt the butter in a small pot. Stir in the cocoa. Add powdered sugar and milk, alternating between the two and making sure all lumps are stirred. Add a small amount of additional milk, if needed. Stir in the vanilla.
Chapter 20: Nerves
Summary:
Last Time: Charlie and Nick, like, kissed or whatever. No one cared.
This Time: It’s a new morning for the boys after their first kisses.
Notes:
Hey, waveofyou. Yeah. Come closer. Closer. Perfect. You created magic with Narlie Waves. You created a rich, compelling, detailed, poignant, thoughtful, delightfully smutty world where characters breathed, lived, grew, and learned. You are an amazing writer, my friend. Narlie Waves just finished, which is devastating, but I am so glad that this story (and its author) are in the world.
NellieSayzBork’s latest chapter in As You Are is so delicious. NSB’s works are always so funny, engaging, and warm, and this one is no exception.
Ebun78 added another chapter of Heaven is a Hand to Hold, which is a gorgeous work. Their wrist-stroking that they wrote into that has wormed its way SO deeply into my soul!
Happy Thursday ♥️ Thank you for being so lovely with your comments! They make me so immensely happy.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In movies Nick had watched when people slept in the same bed for the first time, the scenes had always been similar. One of the characters would open their eyes for the first time in the morning light, blinking awake and seeing the other character again with a soft smile as the other person continued to sleep peacefully. Nick didn’t have that moment. He didn’t have it because he must have woken up a hundred times in the night, his sleep light and dozing, jerking awake every time he or Charlie moved. Every time he did wake up, Nick felt like he had to check that this was real - this wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. He’d readjust, wrapping his arms more securely around Charlie or running a hand tentatively up Charlie’s arm and then squeezing to check that the man in front of him was really there. And he was, every time.
Nick knew he should have been tired from the night before, and he knew the next day was going to be rough after two nights in a row without enough sleep. It didn’t stop him from smiling every one of the dozens of times he woke up as the morning light slowly filled the room, the space getting brighter every time he opened his eyes and nuzzled his cheek against Charlie’s back. God, Nick loved getting to touch Charlie in this way he had wanted to for so long - he loved it so much.
Nick had the sense that Charlie was awake nearly as much as he was, sometimes bringing a hand to touch the forearm that Nick wrapped around Charlie’s chest from behind to pull him tighter. It was around ten or so that Nick stretched and gave up, conceding that he wasn’t going to drift back to sleep again. Nick gently held Charlie’s shoulder as he slid his other, numb arm from underneath Charlie’s body, the tingling sensation as feeling returned entirely worth the sacrificial blood flow. Charlie murmured in his sleep and Nick paused to let the sounds and sights fill up his chest. This was truly more than he ever could have imagined just seven or eight hours ago when they had come up to the bedroom together. Amy was a fucking menace and Nick was going to buy her a new car for her birthday this year.
Nick was quick in the bathroom, finishing by brushing his teeth and raking his fingers through his hair. He slid back into bed, Charlie now laying on his other side, the direction that faced Nick. Nick wasn’t entirely sure how to not be a creep and just look at Charlie while he slept, and he was saved when Charlie’s eyes slowly opened as Nick settled back in closer to him, Nick wincing and starting to apologise for waking Charlie up.
Charlie reached out a finger and pressed it to Nick’s lips, smushing them slightly and making Nick pull away and laugh. “‘S too early for sorries,” Charlie mumbled, grinning through his tired-looking eyes.
“Says the unrivalled king of unnecessary contriteness,” said Nick back, catching Charlie’s hand and drawing it to his own cheek.
Charlie watched his own hand for a moment before taking over, gently stroking Nick’s cheek, then moving up into Nick’s hair. He touched Nick’s hair lightly, smoothing over the strands but never tangling his fingers in it. Nick wanted him to do that. Charlie’s eyes flickered to Nick’s. “Hi,” he said, his voice both warm and shy.
“Hi,” said Nick, feeling much the same. He reached his hand behind Charlie’s neck, feeling the warm skin under the palm of his hand. Charlie’s hooded jumper was on the floor, thrown there at one point in the night when Charlie had sat up and pulled it off, a thin t-shirt underneath. Nick had been hesitant right after that, worried that he was making Charlie too hot. Then Charlie had reached behind him and pulled Nick’s arm securely across his chest and Nick had melted into the bed, curling his fingers and gripping Charlie’s t-shirt before drifting back off to sleep.
Nick heard a truck’s doors closing and tires on the crushed shells, and figured that the cleaners had left after taking care of the cows and taking the caramel buns out of the refrigerator like Nick had asked them to. Charlie turned on his back and stretched, Nick pulling his hand away to do the same. They could hear Tara’s voice calling out, presumably into the camper van. There was a secondary car park area by the side of the house that Charlie’s window faced, and the sound carried. Nick could just make out what she was saying. “I’ll grab you some paracetamol and bread, love,” she called.
Nick lay still for a moment, his eyes closed. “I should get up and grab that for her. I assume it’s for Darcy; she looked like she was going to need it even last night.”
He could hear Charlie chuckle. “That’s our Darcy.” Nick opened his eyes and turned on his side once more to look at Charlie. God, he was gorgeous. Charlie turned his face towards Nick. “What?” he asked, smiling shyly.
Nick ducked his head and could feel the blush on his neck, threatening to rise. “Nothing,” he said. “Well - just…this,” he said lamely, reaching out to touch Charlie’s face again. “I like…this.”
Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment and he looked…emotional? Nick felt a brief swoop of anxiety at the look before Charlie’s forehead smoothed over and a soft, beautiful smile crossed his face. “I do, too.”
“I hate that I have to get up,” Nick sighed. “I could stay here all day.” With you. He looked at Charlie for another long moment. He wanted to kiss Charlie again, but now he was seized by a nervous sort of anxiety. Last night had been magic, like a lightswitch had been flipped. Once their lips had touched, Nick couldn’t kiss Charlie enough until they had fallen asleep. He knew he had been, like, “allowed” to kiss Charlie last night. In the light of a new day, Nick didn’t know how to restart it. Night felt like a natural time to kiss, and the light coming through the window felt like a beacon, lighting up a shyness that Nick didn’t know he still had in him, a nervousness that he was going to be too much or overwhelm Charlie. After a last look at Charlie and a gentle caress of his face, Nick heaved a sigh and rolled out of bed, going back into the bathroom to pull on the same jeans and a new shirt that he had brought in his overnight bag. Nick had no qualms at all about changing in front of anyone, especially after literal years spent in changing rooms, but it felt different with Charlie.
Once dressed, Nick crossed over to the bed to theatrically tuck Charlie in, Charlie giggling as Nick tucked the blankets cosily around his feet, then under his shins, around his shoulders, and even his neck. Charlie closed his eyes, the smile still on his face when Nick pressed a quick, shy kiss to Charlie’s forehead. “I’m going to go check on the girls and get the sticky buns in the oven,” he said, leaving one more kiss on Charlie’s forehead.
“I’ll be down in a few,” murmured Charlie, his eyes looking like they were closing again.
“Take your time,” said Nick. He lingered at the doorway for a minute, marvelling at the fact that he kissed this man in that bed last night. Even that thought gave him pause. He was struck by the wonder that he had gotten to kiss Charlie, not that he had kissed a man. That was just a distant awareness he had; that Charlie was a man. It was the fact that he had kissed Charlie that mattered.
-
Nick went downstairs and said hello to Tara, Elle, and Harriet, who were all up and chatting quietly in the kitchen over tea and coffee that Harriet had made, as well as the cream cheese-filled pumpkin muffins Nick had unfrozen, warm from the oven. Nick gratefully accepted a cup as he preheated the oven and got a few things ready for the day, including grabbing one of the “morning-after” kits he had stashed for Tara to give Darcy. Tara ducked out to give her girlfriend some medicine, water, crackers, and a packet of Liquid IV that the team had all sworn by after heavy drinking days.
Charlie and Tao appeared at nearly the same time, and Nick couldn’t take the stupid smile off his face when Charlie walked in. Charlie returned the same expression before they both blushed. Charlie went to stand next to Tao as Tao moaned about his hangover, Nick occasionally catching Charlie’s eye from over Charlie’s coffee cup. Nick had the sense that Charlie was nervous, too. His eyes seemed skittish. Charlie looked at Elle and Tao after every time he looked at Nick, as if to see if they had noticed the smiles and looks they were giving one another. Nick felt similarly unmoored, unsure of how to act when they were around their friends. Nick and Charlie both jumped when the oven pinged to indicate it was at temperature, and Nick slid the buns in, Elle exclaiming that she couldn’t wait to try them.
Nick excused himself to go down to the barn and check on the girls and tear himself away from the smothering heat that he felt when he was looking at Charlie and unable to touch him. The neighbours and cleaners had done the feeding and watering, but Nick couldn’t not say hello for the morning. He walked down to the paddock, rubbing both girls’ faces and greeting them.
“Guess what happened last night, Nell?” he said in a quiet voice. “I finally got to kiss Charlie.” Henry lowed and Nick smiled. “Yes, I’m happy about it, too, Hen.” He gave each of them a scratch with one hand. “I got to kiss him and it was so incredible.” Nick leaned against the fence and looked at the girls. “God, it’s going to be hard not to kiss him all day,” he said softly. “I know it’s, like, weird. It’s daylight again and that’s a stupid reason to feel like kissing isn’t okay or whatever, and then all of his friends are here and all of my mates are here and it’s like…being under a microscope, I guess.” Nick gave Nellie an absent pat on the shoulder and sighed. “I should have kissed him again this morning,” he said ruefully. “When it was just us. Just me and Charlie. Oh, Charlie.” He knew he had on that baby voice that he sometimes couldn’t help when he was around the cows. Why had he been afraid to kiss Charlie this morning, when it was just the two of them in the room? He leaned into the silliness of the baby voice he was using, patting the cows with each syllable, even though his heart was aching with regret. “Girls. I. Want. To. Kiss. Char-lie. A-gain. Char-lie, Char-lie, Char-lie.”
“Nick?”
Nick whipped his head around. Had he Beetlejuiced Charlie into appearing? Nick blushed as the curly-haired keeper of his heart made his way down to the barn, Nick’s pulse high, hoping that Charlie hadn’t heard him being so ridiculous. “Hey,” said Nick, the smile totally uncontrollable despite his mild embarrassment. Charlie looked so beautiful. Charlie always looked so beautiful.
“Hey,” said Charlie, smiling back. “Um, Seamus was asking-”
Nick didn’t know or care what Seamus was asking. As Charlie spoke, he closed the distance between them with a few steps, taking Charlie’s face in his hands and looking at this man, this man that made his chest ache with feeling and longing and tenderness. Charlie looked back at Nick with surprised eyes, and there was a quivering moment where neither one of them moved, just holding each other’s gazes and bodies.
Nick rubbed his thumb softly along Charlie’s jawline, rough with stubble from their late night and not shaving this morning. Charlie looked at him and gave a tiny jerk of his head upwards, his lips a fraction of an inch closer to Nick’s. Nick leaned down to kiss Charlie with feeling and nerves and joy bubbling in his chest. Charlie made a sighing, contented sound and kissed him back. Nick could feel him rise on his toes to get closer to Nick’s height, and Charlie’s hands reached up to touch Nick’s arms. After far less time than Nick actually wanted, he drew back, both of them still holding each other close. Charlie was blinking slowly and looking at Nick’s face, and Nick smiled down at him. “Sorry,” said Nick, not meaning it at all. “I just…wanted to kiss you this morning and didn’t, and it’s all I’ve wanted to do since I got out of bed.”
“I…wanted that too,” said Charlie softly. Then they kissed again, Nick wrapping his arms around Charlie this time, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other pressed against Charlie’s back. Charlie had each of his hands on the sides of Nick’s cheeks and Nick was melting even in the cold January morning air. They both whipped their heads around when they heard the snap of a stick breaking.
Nick turned his neck with an audible crack to see a mortified-looking James frozen mid-step like a cartoon character. He and Charlie and James all stared at one another before James winced in apology. “Sorry, lads, I went for a run this morning and heard voices so I was coming to say hi and stretch and then I…yeah,” he said, trailing off. “I’ll just, um, I’ll just head back up then.” He gave another embarrassed grin and then started off towards the house. He paused a few steps in and turned around to look at them again. “I won’t say anything,” James said with a significant look at Nick and Charlie, still holding each other. “Not until you two wanted to say anything.” His face split into a wide grin then, and he looked at Nick. “Congrats, mate. I had the sense you’ve been hoping for this for ages.”
Nick felt himself blush brilliantly, aware of Charlie’s eyes on his face. “And Charlie,” James continued, holding a finger aloft, the smile still beaming. “You…could do better.” Charlie let out a startled laugh and Nick did too, James giving them a wink. “See you up at the house, boys.”
James walked out of sight and Nick and Charlie stood in frozen silence before Charlie giggled, his shoulders shaking under Nick’s arms. Nick immediately dissolved into laughter; Charlie’s laugh was so infectious.
“Oh my god,” said Charlie, leaning his head back in dismay before flopping it forward and burying his face in Nick’s chest. Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie, closing his eyes and grinning at the situation.
“I know,” Nick murmured against Charlie’s hair, absently curling a few of the locks around his forefinger. Their amusement slowly faded into just holding one another again, and after a long moment, Charlie drew back. Nick was worried to see the look on Charlie’s face, one of deep concern.
“Do you…not want people to know? Like, I know this is new for you, and you probably don’t want to tell anyone, right?” Charlie asked. He pulled back a little more to look at Nick so they were separated, and Nick hated how anxious and small Charlie looked, even though he was bravely attempting to keep his voice neutral.
Nick shook his head vehemently. “No,” he said honestly. “No, I don’t care if any of them know at all.”
Charlie’s eyebrows contracted slightly as if confused, his eyes searching Nick’s face. “Really?”
Nick shrugged and nodded. His arms itched with the desire to hold Charlie again. “Yeah, really. I mean, I don’t need to, like, go full Danny Turner on any of them and risk public indecency laws,” he said, chuffed when Charlie smiled softly at that. “But I’m not worried about the way any of them in that house would react.” He paused, looking at Charlie, who was looking at him with a soft expression that Nick couldn’t quite parse. “What about you?”
Charlie didn’t answer immediately. He reached out and gently touched Nick’s chest, almost like he was checking to see if Nick was real and really there, like Nick had done to Charlie hundreds of times during the night. He looked up at Nick, pushing up against him for another kiss, leaving Nick gloriously dizzy. “I…” he trailed off and then looked down, looking a little miserable. “I feel a little, like, intimidated. About telling everyone. It’s just, like - with so many people…”
“I know,” agreed Nick. “There are so many people here. And two of them are Danny and Darcy.”
Charlie laughed. “Exactly. Like, I don’t care at all if anyone knows, but I feel like telling everyone today that we…” He blushed and it was adorable. “That just seems like a lot?”
Nick privately agreed. He thought of the weirdness of just, like, announcing that he and Charlie had kissed would feel very Year Seven. “Well,” he said. “Everyone leaves tomorrow. And we’ll have time to, uh, talk tonight. Just the two of us.” In the same bed, was the rest of the thought in Nick’s mind, but it made him feel very, very warm to think about. By the look on Charlie’s face, he had the same thing pop into his brain as well.
“Yeah,” said Charlie after he swallowed. “So I guess maybe today we just don’t…” He was looking at Nick, his face tilted up, and all Nick wanted to do was push him against the wall of the barn and kiss him for hours.
“Yeah,” Nick agreed. He gave a theatrical sigh, tangling his fingers with Charlie’s. “I’ll control myself in front of all of them and not just….” Kiss you the way I want to, every second. Instead of saying that, Nick dropped his head down to kiss Charlie. Charlie made a small humming sound and lifted his chin, mouth parting slightly. He pressed against Nick’s body, his hands squeezing against Nick’s arms. Every inch of him felt so good. Nick softly slid his tongue against Charlie’s and had to step back when Charlie’s sigh had an edge of a moan to it. He heaved a massive breath and stepped back with effort. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking seriously at Charlie, wanting him to know that Nick truly only wanted to do what would make Charlie - well, both of them - comfortable. “So, let’s just…we can just not do…this while everyone is still here, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, looking at Nick gratefully, though with a tinge of regret on his face, too. Nick ached for that look of regret that mirrored what was inside him, too. “We’ll just…go back to not doing this. Just while we’re around everyone.”
Nick nodded and they squeezed each other’s hands before walking back up to the house to present as two platonic, good friends who just enjoyed each other’s company.
-
They lasted nearly twenty minutes, too.
It was decidedly not Nick’s fault. The oven timer went off a little bit after Nick and Charlie came in. Everyone was up by that point, Nick and Charlie joining the group. Darcy and Danny were both flopped over the dining room table with their heads on their hands or on the table, moaning about the unfairness of hangovers. Danny was dramatically reaching towards a sleeve of plain crackers about an inch from his fingers, whining and looking up helplessly at James for aid. Darcy was similarly stricken, closing her eyes and asking how she was supposed to know that chocolate cake shots weren’t just made by crumbling chocolate cake into shots of vodka. That made Danny groan and wince, rolling his head “no” with his forehead still on the table, the two of them having gone the hardest last night.
When the oven went off, Nick went into the empty kitchen to pull out the sticky buns, hoping that the bread and sugar would help bring everyone back to life. He was sliding the buns out of the oven and admiring them; the buns golden and the caramel bubbling. Charlie came up beside him to ooh and ahh as Nick set the trays of buns on the counter, and then slipped his arm around Nick, rubbing his back.
“They look amazing,” said Charlie, looking up at Nick with a grin.
Nick’s heartbeat quickened. You look amazing. “Thanks,” he said, setting the last tray down and looking at the two dozen buns in front of them, smiling as well.
Charlie’s hand slid up Nick’s back to massage his neck and Nick closed his eyes, stifling a moan. He leaned his head back and drew Charlie close with an arm. They stood there for a moment, looking at the confections on the counter, even though Nick’s mind was only focused on Charlie. Charlie’s hand was still on his neck and Nick leaned his cheek against Charlie’s hair, rolling his head around slightly as Charlie’s fingers played with the nape of his neck. Nick was dying. This was so, so-
“Oh!” said a quiet voice from behind them. Nick and Charlie nearly jumped out of the skins, turning to see Elle looking surprised. “Sorry,” she said, her eyes wide.
“Don’t be!” said Charlie in a shrilly high voice that almost made Nick break into a nervous giggle. “We were - we just - we - look, Elle!” He pointed somewhat frantically to the caramel buns as he and Nick separated slightly.
She came over, looking both cautious and possibly amused, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Wow, Nick, those look incredible,” she said, giving Nick a warm look.
Nick didn’t need anything warm at the moment; he was on fire with nerves and feeling and giddiness. “Thanks,” he mumbled, glancing at Charlie, who seemed okay, though flushed. “I’m just going to set down some trivets and bring these out. Can you grab-”
“The coffee and tea? Yes,” said Elle. “That’s what I came in here for.” She took the carafe and the pot in each of her hands, turning her head to give them a true smile, her face dazzling in joy. “It looks really nice in here.” She gestured vaguely with her chin at the buns, hands full, but Nick blushed at her meaning. He felt like he and Charlie had gotten silent, gentle approval. Two down, nine to go, he thought wryly.
Elle left the kitchen and Nick let out a huge breath. He immediately turned to Charlie, and was relieved to see that Charlie looked embarrassed but amused, not distraught or upset.
Charlie brought his hands to his own face, pulling at his cheeks. “Um…oops?”
Nick laughed. “I blame you for that one.”
“Me?! You were the one making that soun-” Charlie gulped and flushed and broke off, and Nick felt a thrill shoot down his belly.
“You were the one who couldn’t resist how attractive my buns were…”
Charlie groaned. “Oh no.”
Nick preened and gave a playful flip of his head, putting a hand on his hip and jutting the hip out to the side. “You can’t get enough of this dough, can you?”
“Nick, please tell me your New Year’s resolution was to break your addiction from the grip that wordplay has over your life.”
“Oh no, am I getting a rise out of you?”
Charlie groaned again and pressed his face against Nick’s chest, shaking his head back and forth as he stayed buried in Nick’s sweater. Nick glanced at the doorway and kissed Charlie quickly on the top of the head, Charlie looking up and grinning at Nick. “Watch it, innkeeper.”
“You watch it, Guest Room 3 occupant.”
Nick laughed and dodged as Charlie went to playfully smack his arm, picking up a tray of buns and primly saying that he was above reproach when carrying baked goods. Charlie begrudgingly agreed and took the other tray and the two of them carried the buns out, everyone exclaiming. Nick did a few more trips to get the fruit salad and Granelson that he had made and settled in the seat next to Charlie. The group was chatting and laughing and thanking Nick for making breakfast, to which he grinned and gave a playful toss of his hair.
“You’re bringing me back to life, Nicky boy,” said Danny through a mouthful of food, looking at him with giant doe-like eyes even with a long string of caramel hanging from his lip.
“Baby, you’re a mess,” said James affectionately, using his thumb to brush the caramel away. To his eternal credit, James had given nothing away with his face or any glances at Nick and Charlie.
“And you’re marrying me,” grinned Danny, kissing James on the cheek and getting his face sticky, James pulling a face and laughing. “On purpose.”
“I know you literally just got engaged, but have you talked about where or when you might get married?” asked Tara.
Danny gave a giant grin and the hangover seemed to rush out of him. “I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS,” he boomed. James jumped and Darcy cackled, the rest of them laughing along too. Danny started to go on a wild ride of describing potential scenarios for the venue alone, which included Badgers stadium, Lavender Fields, Fiji, inside a stripped and refurbished Airbus A380 (Qantas plane, of course, Danny had explained), Buckingham Palace, and “on the set of wherever they filmed Apollo 13 so it looks like we got married on the moon”, among others. Nick laughed as he listened to Danny’s increasingly ridiculous proposals and the ones that Darcy was throwing in as well and felt his chest warm with how happy he was.
Lavender Fields was just about at full capacity with everyone there, the table full, and Nick took a moment to look around and appreciate how the year was starting. Nearly everyone he held closest in his heart were sitting around him, with other wonderful new friends there as well. He suppressed a happy sigh as he accepted another sticky bun from Charlie. God, Charlie. Nick couldn’t even summarise how grateful he was for Charlie.
He was so grateful that Charlie had booked a stay at Lavender Fields. He was grateful that Charlie had still decided to come solo after what happened with B. Hope. He was grateful that Charlie had stayed for that first week - and that Charlie had come back. He was grateful for delayed construction work on flats, for Amy and Danny failing to take apart the beds, and grateful for woodworms. Above all else, Nick was endlessly grateful for Charlie - the fact that he existed, that he was wonderful, that he was in Nick’s life, and that he liked Nick. Nick would have been grateful for any one of those things being true. But all of those things being true? That just seemed like a possibility beyond anything Nick could have imagined.
Everyone was talking and joking with Danny and James about the wedding as Danny wondered aloud about getting shoes that were plated in hammered gold. Nick was half-paying attention, grinning along with everyone else, but as always, Charlie was there, settled in his brain. Nick glanced over to remind himself that Charlie was really real and there beside him - beside him after they had kissed. He looked over and melted at the look on Charlie’s face, Charlie looking delighted as he followed the conversation, his blue eyes sparkling as he giggled. Nick felt that familiar ache in his chest, wanting to pull Charlie upstairs and draw him close and hold him. Touch him. Nick wanted to be chest to chest with Charlie, feeling the press of his muscles and body. He just wanted to be as close to Charlie as possible, for as long as possible. Nick sighed again, lost in the thoughts of last night and how right it had felt for their bodies as they fit together. How inevitable it had felt.
Charlie glanced over, the smile still on his face from the conversation. He started a little when he caught Nick looking at him, Nick blushing. “You all right?” Charlie asked Nick quietly, everyone else laughing uproariously about a story Darcy was telling from a hen night she had attended while dressed in an actual hen costume.
“Yeah,” said Nick back, returning Charlie’s smile. The chairs were close together with so many people there, and Nick and Charlie were just a few inches from each other. Nick dropped his hand closer to Charlie so it hung between them in the tight space between their chairs. He heard Charlie let out a breath through his nose and move his hand too, so that their hands brushed against each other’s like silk, hidden under the table. The group was now exchanging best hen and stag do stories, and in the uproar of one-upping, Nick drifted his fingers against Charlie’s, their fingertips whispering past each other. It was so simple - such a sweet and innocent expression of affection, but the grazing contact was sending showers of sparks down Nick’s spine, his stomach pulling up pleasantly. Nick nearly dissolved when Charlie moved his thumb to stroke against the inside of Nick’s wrist, the pressure delicate and exquisite.
Nick actively swallowed back a sound and slowly moved his hand to rest on Charlie’s thigh. He let it lay there, rubbing his thumb against the side of Charlie’s leg. Charlie let out a shaky-sounding breath and put his hand on top of Nick’s, just resting his fingertips in the grooves between Nick’s fingers. It was simple and erotic and Nick fought to keep himself focused. They were eventually drawn back into the conversation, Nick chiming in a few times as Seamus and Tex told the story of Lunker’s stag night, one that had happened when they were all still playing for the Badgers together. When it was time to get up, Charlie drew his fingers off of the back of Nick’s hand with a sultry slowness, lingering and letting his nails trail up Nick’s wrist before drawing away. Nick was melting.
Nick felt like his brain never really came back online for most of the day. He wanted to be present with all of the people who were there, but he kept thinking about Charlie. Nick knew that they were sharing a bed again that night, and given the chance, his mind bounced off in a million directions, wondering a whole host of things.
What would it be like that night? Would Charlie want to kiss him again? What happened if they kissed and it got…heated? What if they did more than kissing? Would Nick know what to do? Would his body know what to do? Would Charlie be okay with Nick being new to…stuff? What happened after the next night, when everyone left? Would they share a bed? Would they share one sometimes? How…how did they decide that? How would they act around guests? What if something happened in a week and Charlie realised that he didn’t want to do…whatever they were doing any more? Would he leave? What if things went south and they were still living together? What if things went well and they were still doing whatever this was when Charlie’s place was ready? Would they see each other? What if this was still going on - god, Nick hoped it was still going on - when Nick went back to Leeds and Charlie went to London? What…
Nick felt the swirl and tangle of these and more questions all day, each of them tugging at his brain and shouting its worry. Nick knew that he had this tendency - he was amazing at borrowing tomorrow’s problems for today. He tried to breathe through it and stay present throughout the day, which leaned heavily on lounging and relaxing. Nick himself fell asleep on the couch in the upstairs living room where a bunch of them had gathered to watch a movie, catching up on some much-needed sleep from the two nights before. As he awoke, he wished Charlie had been cuddled into his body as he dozed, looking around blearily and wondering where he was. Charlie was on the other end of the couch and was asleep himself, oblivious to the quiet sounds of Seamus, Amy, Harriet, and Tara chatting. Nick had to stop himself from reaching over and stroking his cheek and kissing Charlie on the forehead when he tiredly got up and pulled a blanket over Charlie.
The afternoon and early evening were quiet, everyone still recovering and resting from the night before. It started to pick up again when dinnertime came around. Seamus and Amy had ordered food this time, and they all ate in the parlour, people strewn on chairs and the floor, laughing and talking.
Nick wasn’t surprised when Danny and Darcy came in with a whiteboard they had stolen from the Lavender Fields office assigning teams and an intense bracket system for a mini hard seltzer-pong tournament, producing tiny ping-pong balls from nowhere. The Badgers had once received a team gift from a wealthy benefactor, everyone getting their own tiny beer pong tables. The team had laughed when they had gotten them, and then all of them had gotten deeply into tiny beer pong that year. They hadn’t played together in a while and Nick laughed aloud in delight, seeing the setup, Danny and Darcy pouring the hard seltzer into the cups.
“Not beer pong?” Tex asked, cocking his head.
“Nah mate, we’re classy fucks,” said Danny, clucking at Tex with fond disapproval.
Nick wasn’t surprised (and was very, very happy) to see that he and Charlie had been assigned as partners. Everyone else was mixed, no couples together.
“I’m…with you?” Tao asked Danny, looking at the brackets.
Danny gave a giant, beaming grin. “Buckle up, mate. We did a random draw for everyone and you got lucky.”
Tara had opted not to play and to be the official scorekeeper and rules official, so Darcy hadn’t assigned her to a team. Charlie drifted over to Nick and gave him a nudge on the shoulder, nodding his head towards where their names were written together on the whiteboard.
“Lucky draw for us, huh?”
Nick smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Lucky.”
The tournament started, Tara cheering and laughing and keeping track of who won each match. Unsurprisingly, Nick and Charlie were an amazing team. Charlie was shockingly good at throwing the tiny ball in a delicate arc, his graceful fingers letting go at the exact right time. It got later and later and Nick got tipsy as they continued playing and winning, though they got into some close contests. It wasn’t a lot of drink with the small cups, but the bubbles, the lack of sleep, and the excitement of being next to Charlie went right to Nick’s head.
It was near ten when it came down to the final match - Nick and Charlie versus Amy and James.
Tara called for the teams to shake hands before the match, and the four of them stood facing each other in pairs. Danny whistled like it was a Western movie stand-off.
“You’re going down, Walker,” Nick said, pointing to James.
“You have no chance, Nelson,” replied James, squinting his eyes and hooking his thumbs in his belt loops like a gunslinger.
“Say goodbye to the trophy,” said Charlie to Amy, pointing to an orange that Danny had spray-painted gold.
“I will kill everyone you love,” replied Amy, staring at Nick and Charlie.
“...There she is,” said Nick with a laugh. Amy’s overly aggressive trash talk was a much-loved and feared part of her character.
They shook hands under Tara’s command and separated, each going to their sides. The rest of the group was gathered around, factions forming to cheer on each team. On Nick and Charlie’s side were Darcy, Elle, Tex, and Regan. On Amy and James’s side were Seamus, Harriet, Danny, and Tao, who had amazingly followed Danny to his fan section even after they had lost out of the tournament. Danny and Darcy were sitting next to each other on the couch, alternatively heckling and cheering and gently pushing each other in their exuberance.
The match came down to the final cups, Nick and James eyeing each other before they threw. Amy had gone and missed, and now it was James’s turn. He paused, looked over at Danny who blew a very sexualized kiss, and then tossed the ball, landing neatly in the cup to riotous cheers from his side.
Tara yelled over the noise. “Okay! Nick, you’re up! If you miss this, it’s over. If you make this and Charlie misses, we reset and go back to one cup each. If you make it and Charlie makes it, you two win.”
Nick grinned at Charlie before taking a deep breath and doing a few swimmer’s stretches, to mixed boos and laughter. He squared up, cocked his arm, and released, the ball splashing into the cup. He roared and Charlie laughed, the two of them slapping hands, Nick squeezing his fingers around Charlie’s hand for a moment.
“Okay, Charlie,” said Tara. “Make it and it’s yours. Miss it and it goes back to Amy and James.”
Charlie shimmied his shoulders at their cheering squad, eliciting a loud round of celebration. He stood next to Nick as Darcy, Elle, Tex, and Regan started a “Charlie!” chant, the sound getting louder and louder as they went. Charlie faced the table, ball in his hand. He raised his arm, pulled it back, and then released. There was a moment of silence where they all watched the ball sail through the air, and then - plop! - it was in the cup.
The room exploded in noise, everyone cheering or lamenting loudly. Nick exclaimed and opened his arms, Charlie laughing and beaming and opening his own. They embraced in a giant hug, Nick lifting Charlie off his feet and swinging him around slightly. Charlie was giggling as Nick set him down, and their faces were close as they both grinned at each other, pulling at each other at the same time to kiss, the kiss distorted by the way their lips were pulled tightly by their smiles.
The room immediately quieted and Nick realised what they had done a half-second too late. Charlie seemed to have the same crashing reality too, looking first at Nick with a shocked expression on his face. Neither one of them had even seemed to think about it - it had just happened. The silence stretched on as Nick and Charlie stepped hesitantly back from one another, Nick clearing his throat. He could see Darcy and Danny on the couch out of the corner of his eye, sporting identical, enormous grins.
“Gay,” said Darcy, nodding her head approvingly. “Very gay.”
“Most excellently homosexual,” agreed Danny, toasting her with a tiny cup from one of the boards and beaming at Nick and Charlie.
Nick scanned the room, still standing close to Charlie. Tara was bouncing on her toes, looking thrilled and nervous, hands in excited fists near her face. Harriet had her chin up, smiling happily at Nick and Charlie. Amy looked coolly smug, reaching over and exchanging a fist-bump with James, who looked like he was suppressing a smile. Nick’s eyes swivelled until he found Seamus and Tex, his former teammates. His former, straight teammates. They were standing together, and Nick met Seamus’s eyes first. Seamus was his former flatmate and one of his closest friends, and Nick had the sense that Shea probably knew a lot less than Amy or Danny had about how he had been feeling. Seamus looked at Nick, his face puzzled but happy. He gave a half-shrug and lifted his beer bottle that he was drinking in solace after losing, a warm expression on his face. Seamus didn’t care. Tex had what he called a “shit-eating grin” on his face, turning to wink at Regan before throwing Nick one, too.
None of them cared.
They cared, but they also didn’t care. Nick felt awash in relief. There was another beat of quiet, where everyone was just grinning stupidly, no one saying anything.
“Charlie, you just broke up with Ben.” Tao’s voice cut through the room. It wasn’t…angry or accusatory, just genuinely baffled. Nick’s eyes flew to look at Charlie, whose face was tight.
“Tao,” said Elle.
“What?” asked Tao, looking at her and then Charlie again with raised eyebrows. “They literally just broke up, and Charlie lives here. How is this supposed to work if something happened and-”
“Tao.” said Elle, louder and firmly.
Tao looked at her and then seemed to cotton onto the fact that there were twelve sets of eyes on him. He looked slightly uneasy and turned to address Charlie, his face morphing into a hasty smile. “It’s great, though, I know you’ve been pining after Nick for months.”
“Tao!” said Elle and Tara together.
“What?” asked Tao, now exasperated.
“It is great,” said Harriet, filling the silence, and everyone else jumped in, talking over each other and grinning again.
“When did you two kiss!? Last night?”
“Oh, I’m so happy for the two of you!”
“Sorry me and Amy forgot to separate the beds, mate. That’s a lie. I’m lying.”
“I promise we won’t make a big deal out of it, but this is so great.”
“You didn’t kiss at midnight, did you? I didn’t think you did!”
“Oi,” said James, holding up his hands and stepping in front of Nick and Charlie. “My clients will not be taking any further queries at this time. Please direct all enquiries to me, and I will promptly ignore them.”
Nick grinned at James and gave a small salute, but his mind was entirely on Charlie. His face had relaxed a bit after what Tao had said, but still looked a bit anxious. Nick wasn’t irritated with Tao - well, that was a lie. He was lightly irritated with Tao. Regardless, Nick had to admit that he was right, to a degree, and had cut right to the heart of things. Charlie had been with B. Hope just three months before. To be honest, Nick was nervous about that, too. He didn’t know what it meant that Charlie was engaged literally 90 days ago. He knew that they both liked each other, but that didn’t stop his mind from gripping onto worries and anxieties and implications.
Nick could feel himself getting more and more wound up, and all he wanted was time alone with Charlie, to talk and check in with him. Fortunately, James seemed to sense Nick’s unease, and loudly announced that he and Danny were headed to bed. Danny looked at him like he was about to protest, but immediately shut his mouth with an audible click after a look from James.
“Yes, bedtime,” said Danny soberly. “Or else no one gets coffee or cuddles in the morning. From anyone, but it is especially hurtful when I withhold them, I know.”
The group laughed and started to drift off to bed, both Nick and Charlie getting a few warm looks and arm squeezes. Charlie waved goodnight to everyone, tight-lipped, and Nick did the same, following Charlie up the stairs. Every step he climbed, he felt more and more apprehension, terrified of what Charlie might be thinking. Nick knew it had been both of them earlier, but he felt a swoop of sick guilt that this was his fault, his fault for being so clingy and handsy with Charlie. God, Charlie hadn’t wanted to make this a big deal and then there they were, kissing in front of everyone. Nick followed Charlie into the room and shut the door behind them.
He took a deep breath when Charlie turned to face him, his gorgeous eyes looking troubled. “Char,” he started, wanting to hold Charlie so badly but not knowing if it was okay. “Are you all right?”
Charlie hesitated, and Nick’s heart and stomach squeezed in a knot of nerves. “I’m…” Charlie started, looking up and around before looking at Nick again. “I’m…I guess I’m feeling anxious,” he said, and Nick felt the fluttery edge of panic in his belly.
Nick tried to keep his voice even. “Anxious?” he asked. Oh, god, it was him, wasn’t it? Nick was pushing too fast, being too clingy.
Charlie looked at him and started, seeming to cotton on to Nick’s anxiety. “Oh, god, Nick, nothing to do with you,” he said hurriedly, stepping towards Nick and touching his forearm, which hung limply at his side. “It’s just…” he sighed. “It’s Ben, you know?”
Nick felt like he was reeling. “Ben…?”
Charlie closed his eyes and shook his head frantically. “Sorry, no, not - not him! It’s just, like, because of Ben.” He sighed. “I don’t want any of them - and you - like, to think I’m moving too quickly. I really don’t want you to think this is just some - rebound or something.” Nick’s heart leapt. He didn’t know what this was between him and Charlie but he had never thought it felt like a rebound at all. “Like, Ben and I broke up three months ago and I know saying that out loud sounds like a really short time, but it feels like a lifetime ago - and, god…”
“Charlie,” Nick said. He stepped towards Charlie, who was now looking out the window, not seeming like he really saw anything, his voice getting even faster.
“...I don’t want them to think I’m rushing into something.” Charlie blushed brilliantly and amended himself. “Rushing into, like, anything. Not saying this is something, you know? But, like…oh, god, not like I’m expecting something of you with this, Nick, but I could see them thinking that anything would be-”
“Charlie,” Nick tried again. He was closer to Charlie, whose eyes were downcast, looking miserable, Charlie shrinking into himself.
“Oh my god, I just need to stop talking. I don’t expect that this, like, means anything beyond just kissing - you’re just realising your own sexuality, like you said, and that’s fine and you don’t need to commit to anything here, and I’m here to-”
“Charlie,” said Nick, taking Charlie’s face gently in his hands. Charlie looked up then and Nick saw his worried eyes searching Nick’s as if he was looking for a sign that Nick was about to run away. Nick surged forward and kissed Charlie again, Charlie’s lips still and surprised at first, and then soft and yielding. Charlie parted his lips to let Nick’s tongue slip inside, and then kissed Nick back, his tongue against Nick’s in a way that made the back of Nick’s legs turn to water. Nick gave him another kiss and then stepped back slightly, Charlie seeming to sway slightly in Nick’s arms. “I get it,” said Nick softly. “I get the idea that it might seem odd to other people that what…happened…is still so recent and we’re going - we have…it’s…” Nick gestured with a weak wobbly gesture of his head to the two of them. “That we’re doing this.” Nick took a shaky breath, both hungry for and scared of what the answer might be. He searched Charlie’s eyes and summoned up all of his courage. “What is… this?”
Charlie looked back at him, his eyes huge and clear. Nick could feel how quick Charlie’s heart was going against his own chest. “I don’t know,” Charlie murmured, looking into Nick’s eyes like Nick might have the answer.
“Neither do I,” said Nick with another unsteady breath. “And maybe that’s…okay?” He took another breath, this time more grounding, feeling so much more secure that Charlie was willing to have a conversation about this. There was so much more they needed to talk about, but Charlie wasn’t shutting it down. B. Hope, what they would do when Charlie’s place was ready, what they would do in June. There was so much, and Nick didn’t want to talk about anything more than liking Charlie right now. “I know that I like you.”
“I like you, too,” said Charlie immediately, and Nick’s heart soared.
Nick smiled, though there was still some anxiety fluttering around his chest, thinking of how to word this without overwhelming Charlie with his feelings. “Do we just…like each other for now?”
Charlie smiled back at him with such earnestness in his eyes that every cell in Nick’s body relaxed. “Yeah,” he said, wrapping his arms more securely around Nick. His whole body seemed looser, more relaxed. Nick loved holding his body close.
“What does that look like? To just like each other?” asked Nick. His voice came out more throaty than he intended it to.
“Well,” said Charlie slowly. “I think some of it looks like this.” He raised his chin and kissed Nick, raising one hand to touch Nick’s cheek, the fingers of his other hand playing with the hairs on the back of Nick’s neck. Nick was boneless; it was a wonder he was still standing.
“Oh,” said Nick when he finally came up for air, dizzy with feelings. “Okay. I think I can handle that.” Charlie tilted his head back and laughed. Nick leaned forward and nuzzled into Charlie’s neck, just brushing his lips across the skin. “Does it also include me doing something like this?” Nick asked, his voice lower than he expected. Charlie’s whole body tensed, but in a way where he clutched onto Nick, not drawing away. He made a sound that Nick knew would live in his fantasies for weeks, a low, breathy sound that Nick wanted to hear over and over. Nick kissed Charlie’s neck, using his lips and his tongue to gently explore the skin there, Charlie letting out a whimper.
Nick paused and drew back, wanting to check in. “Is this okay?”
Charlie leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “More,” he murmured, his fingers gripping Nick’s shoulders and pulling Nick closer to him again..
Nick felt the zing of electricity travelling through his stomach, shooting up and down and electrifying his body. He came closer to Charlie again, kissing up and down his neck. He moved his mouth down to where Charlie’s neck met his shoulder, and then up again to that tender spot where Charlie’s ear, neck and jaw all connected. When Nick kissed there, he felt Charlie shift in his arms, like his legs were wobbly. “Bed?” asked Nick, the low tenor of his voice again surprising him. “Are you okay if we lay on the bed?” he clarified, not wanting Charlie to wonder what he meant.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his voice husky. It did something to Nick’s stomach. They started kissing again, fumbling and making their way to the bed. They sat down together, but then immediately fell back, still kissing. They moved up until they were fully on the bed, on their sides facing each other. Nick broke their kiss to refocus his attention on Charlie’s neck, trailing his lips down slowly before moving back to that spot that seemed to light Charlie on fire.
Nick pulled gently at Charlie’s earlobe with his teeth, Charlie letting out a sharp gasp. Nick pulled back immediately and Charlie arched his back up, speaking before Nick could. “No, good sound,” he said, eyes tightly closed. “Nick…please…”
The tiny whine in Charlie’s voice lit a fire in Nick’s low belly, and he surged forward to work Charlie’s neck and ear again, drawing back occasionally to kiss Charlie’s mouth. Charlie’s hands had worked their way into Nick’s hair, and Nick was itching, aching for Charlie’s fingers to tighten and pull. It was almost like he was afraid to move his hands too much, and unbidden, Nick thought of B. Hope’s glossy, perfect-looking hair. Someone that much of an arsehole about their looks probably would have been an arsehole about their hair, too, and Nick distantly wondered if that useless wet sock had told Charlie off for messing up his hair.
“You can…” Nick closed his eyes, leaning his head forward as if to will Charlie’s fingers to tighten. “You can, like, touch my hair.” Charlie looked at him in the half-dark, his eyes hard to read in the dim light. “Like you can - pull it a little?” Charlie paused and then lunged towards Nick to kiss him hard, Nick loving the unexpected movement. Charlie curled his fingers into Nick’s hair and pulled, using his forearms to pull his whole body close to Nick’s, like they were fused together. Nick moaned involuntarily, the feeling delicious and all-consuming. His reaction seemed to light a fire in Charlie, who slackened his grip just a little to move his lips from Nick’s down to Nick’s jaw, and then trailing down to his neck. Nick felt a shudder run through his body as Charlie’s lips touched his neck. He loved doing that to partners but had never had it done to him in a way that made him feel so…so…
Nick let out a shaky sigh and drew back a little. Charlie opened his eyes and looked at Nick’s, his eyebrows knitted together. “Sorry,” said Nick, breathing heavily. “I just…this feels so good and I don’t…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Charlie’s lips on his, Charlie’s lips on his neck - all of it felt so painfully, incredibly good that his body was emphatically responding, and he didn’t want Charlie to feel uncomfortable. Their chests were pressed together and while both of them seemed to be keeping their hips separated, Nick was intensely aroused. If he made a wrong move or Charlie got closer, Charlie would feel…
Charlie reached out and gently touched Nick’s cheek. Nick closed his eyes against the feeling. Charlie’s hand was cool and grounding, and the touch felt so caring. “Hey,” said Charlie softly. “First of all, no-”
“No sorries, I know,” said Nick with a half grin. “Sorry.”
“Oi,” said Charlie. Nick chuckled. There was a pause while Nick tried to think of what to say, how to talk with Charlie about all of this. Charlie, as ever, saved him. “I know this is…I know this is new for you, Nick. Is that what’s coming up?”
Nick paused before he answered. “Nope, that’s not what’s coming up,” he said finally, with heat in his neck. There was a beat and then Charlie burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, Nick,” he said, leaning his head back and giggling. “Okay. Fine. That one was good.”
Nick grinned, pleased and embarrassed and still not sure how to have this conversation. “Thank you. Penis jokes are hard to make.”
Charlie let out another guffaw, then clapped a hand over his own mouth. “What is happening to me?”
“I guess you’re a-dick-ted to groin puns?”
Charlie closed his eyes and groped around for a pillow. “I’m just going to use this to smother myself now.”
“Nooo,” said Nick, laughing and pulling the pillow away. Charlie was looking at him, his laughing face looking flushed and his hair messy from the pillow. Nick felt that same tug in his chest and leaned forward to kiss Charlie again before drawing back. Laughing together had broken up some of the anxiety that had settled behind Nick’s ribs, and he felt more comfortable as they looked into each other’s eyes now. “I…god, Charlie. I kiss you and I’m so attracted to you. And I, uh - feel that attraction,” he said lamely, tilting his head slightly down towards his trousers.
Charlie snorted. “This is like an amazing twist on the sex talk parents give. ‘Sometimes you meet someone who makes you feel things in your tummy and your trousers.’”
Nick laughed. “Well, yeah.” He looked at Charlie, whose face was kind, open. Unjudging. “I just - I don’t know, like…what to do? And I know I want to do things with you,” Nick said, the words pushing back his jittery nerves a little.
Charlie looked back at him with expressive eyes, reaching out a hand to brush back Nick’s hair. “I want to do things with you, too.”
Nick hummed against the touch. “I just don’t know…how? Or, like - I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” He swallowed. “We were kissing and you were doing - that - to my neck and I felt…” He looked at Charlie, forcing himself to look at Charlie. “God, I felt so turned on.”
Charlie let out a half-laugh. “Uh, Nick? I was gone when you were doing that to my neck.”
“You were?”
“Nick.”
“I was just asking!”
“I’ve been so turned on this whole time. Like, I am so attracted to you.” Charlie’s voice was quiet and a little shy, but Nick loved the honesty in it.
“Fuck,” said Nick. “I’m so attracted to you.” He paused. “But, what’s like - where do we go from here? Like, where do you go from…kissing?” He felt like a thirteen-year-old Googling answers to questions. Nick was so grateful that Charlie didn’t make him feel like such an idiot for asking.
“It’s just like we were talking about earlier,” said Charlie. “About just liking each other. We just…do whatever feels right.”
Nick huffed out a sigh. “Everything with you feels right.” He winced internally and bit his tongue, wondering if that sounded like too much.
Nick could see Charlie blush even in the dark. “I…I feel the same,” he said. “Everything with you feels right, Nick.”
Nick took a deep sigh in and let it out, again grateful they were laying down with the shakiness in his legs. “God, Charlie. You are…” He shook his head in wonder. “You are amazing.”
Charlie looked at him with eyes so full of feeling that it hurt Nick’s heart. “I’m not…” he trailed off, blushing and pushing his face into Nick’s chest.
“You are,” said Nick firmly. He kissed Charlie’s hair. “You are amazing.” He hesitated. “Char?”
Charlie drew back and smiled at the name. “Yeah?” He traced his fingers up and down Nick’s arm, making him shiver.
“Tomorrow, when everyone leaves…” Nick swallowed. “I’ll have my bed back.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie quietly.
“And you’ll have this room back.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie again, his voice tremulous and echoing that same anxiety that Nick felt. The movement of his fingers slowed.
Nick took a breath. “I, um…” He stopped. “I heard that the portrait people can get riled up after a bunch of people leave, you know.” Charlie’s hand now paused like Charlie was confused. “Just, like, small things like hauntings and possession and stuff. I’ve heard that there’s safety in numbers. Nine out of ten scientists say that sleeping in packs the day after guests leave helps to scare off ghosts.”
Charlie’s fingers started moving again and Nick could hear the smile in his voice. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick confidently. “So if you wanted to partner up tomorrow night in a bed - or any other night after people leave - I mean, I’d be okay with that.”
Charlie nodded and kept his voice sombre. “Safety first.”
“Mmm,” said Nick, his brain going offline as Charlie’s fingers went into his hair.
“I think that sounds like a reasonable plan, innkeeper Nelson,” murmured Charlie, his voice sounding sleepy. Now that Nick had a minute to cool off, he realised how tired he was, too. “I appreciate you adhering to health and safety guidelines when it comes to poltergeists.”
“Anything for our customers,” said Nick, his eyes closing, lids heavy.
Charlie sighed and turned so that his back was to Nick. Nick wrapped around Charlie, pulling him close to his chest and throwing one leg around Charlie’s shins to pull them close together now that his…situation…had resolved. For now.
“This might have been the best New Year’s Day of my life,” said Charlie, his voice slightly fuzzy as he drifted off.
Nick lifted his head to kiss Charlie’s hair, then neck, then shoulder, before laying back down. He couldn’t recall a year quite so full of promise as this one was.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Mine, too.”
Notes:
Pumpkin “Surprise” Muffins
Cream cheese filling
8 ounces cream cheese, softened (1 block)
½ c white sugar
½ tsp vanillaStreusel topping
½ c flour
⅓ c light brown sugar, packed
1 T white sugar
¾ tsp ground cinnamon
3 T butter, meltedPumpkin muffin batter
¾ c butter, softened
½ c white sugar
¼ c brown sugar, packed
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 ½ tsp vanilla
2 T whole milk
1 ¼ c flour
2 tsp pumpkin pie spice (mixture of cinnamon, cardamon, cloves, and ginger)
½ tsp ground cinnamon
¾ tsp baking powder
¾ tsp baking soda
½ tsp saltPreheat the oven to 375 and line a muffin tin with liners.
Combine the cream cheese, sugar, and vanilla and beat until smooth for the cream cheese filling..
Combine the flour, brown and white sugar, and cinnamon for the streusel. Mix in the butter and then use a fork or your fingers to mix everything together and form clumps.
Cream the butter and sugars together using an electric mixer. Add the eggs and beat. Stir in the pumpkin and vanilla and combine, and then combine in the milk, mixing well. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, pumpkin spice, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Use a spatula to add these dry ingredients into the wet mixture, and be sure to not over-mix.
Dollop 2 T of batter into the bottom of each muffin liner. Use a spoon to make an indent in the centre of the batter. Drop a heaping tablespoon of the cream cheese filling into each indent, then drop more batter on top, fully covering the cream cheese mix. Fill the muffin liners about ¾ of the way full.
Evenly divide the streusel topping over the muffins. Bake for 23 - 25 minutes until golden. Allow to cool before serving.
Chapter 21: Heat
Summary:
Last Time: Nick and Charlie accidentally kissed in front of everyone, and agreed to “just like each other” for now.
This Time: The boys figure out what it looks like to like each other.
Notes:
As always, adoration, kisses, and deep love and affection to awaveofyou and NellieSayzBork. Wavey is co-writing a weekly fic for Tolgrim's birthday called The Write-Up. It is Nick and Charlie as therapists, and is an utter delight, as its authors!
NellieSayzBork is writing As You Are, and now is the perfect time to catch up if you are behind, since NSB is going to have a little bit before the next chapter posts. It's a delightful and funny slow burn!
kay_lalala just wrote the lovely front row to love at first sight, a melt-worthy third person POV to Nick and Charlie meeting on a train.
Finally, BeezusRed continues with the unhinged, truly madly deeply wonderful Nellie/Henry commentary with Nervous Moo-sings. So deeply, deeply amoosing!
Parts of this fic will get into more E-rated territory, so I am going ahead and changing the rating as of this chapter. There will be plot beyond the smut, and the smut will be part of Nick’s journey into discovering more about his sexuality. All smut will feature both enthusiastic consent and adorable little goobers who are obsessed with each other.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick was stirred out of a heavy sleep the next morning, the sheets rustling as Charlie got back into bed. Charlie halted in place as Nick turned over and looked at him, his face in an apologetic expression.
“Sorry,” Charlie, moving again and sliding under the covers. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”
Nick made a noncommittal sound and moved closer to Charlie so that his head was resting on Charlie’s stomach. Charlie’s hands moved to Nick’s head and stroked his hair, and Nick closed his eyes. “Mrph,” said Nick eloquently, his brain gelatinous at Charlie’s touch. “That feels nice.”
Charlie made a happy humming sound and started to run his fingers through Nick’s hair. Nick slowly rolled his head around on Charlie’s stomach, trying to suppress the sounds that were attempting to come out of him. Charlie’s fingers felt so good. Nick tried to remember what day it was, but his brain felt sluggish with Charlie’s touch. Monday. It was Monday, the second of January. Everyone was leaving today except for Charlie, who was staying one more day until he had to go back for a on-site work kickoff for the new year. That meant Charlie was going to be gone for a full week, and Nick was not looking forward to it.
It was like Charlie had read his mind. “I don’t want to go back to London yet,” he said softly, now rubbing his fingertips against Nick’s scalp.
Nick’s sigh definitely had the edge of a moan to it. “Can you at least leave your hands here?”
“That might make it hard for me to type.”
“Who cares? Audiobooks are all the rage anyway. Just record everything instead of emailing it and send it to your colleagues. They’ll understand.”
“Mm, definitely,” said Charlie. Nick could hear the smile in his voice.
“Are you staying with Elle and Tao that whole time you’re back in London?” Nick wanted to know about Charlie’s flat and its timeline. He also very much didn’t.
“No,” said Charlie, now massaging around Nick’s ears, gently pulling at the lobes. Nick didn’t know if he’d ever felt so paid attention to before, and it was almost overwhelming in how much he loved it. “Darcy and Tara both have some time off work so they’re going to take the camper van round to see some friends, and they’re letting me stay at their place while they’re gone.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot they live by you all, too.”
“Yep,” said Charlie. “We got lucky. Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara and I have always managed to stay pretty close to one another with our flats. It’s honestly been a lifesaver through my twenties to have them all so close by.”
Nick knew that feeling. He loved when he was in Leeds; that even during the summer break from rugby the lads would often just stumble over to each other’s places. That was one of the best parts of calling Leeds home - having the people he cared about close by. Nick knew how to maintain long-distance friendships, but he had learned that he loved being physically close to the people he cared about. Charlie especially. Nick reckoned it was the same for Charlie in London with his friends. He was going to respond when Charlie changed what he was doing, moving his fingers back into Nick’s hair, using his nails to gently scratch against Nick’s scalp. There was no camouflaging the moan this time, and Nick couldn’t suppress the edge of the whimper in his tone.
“Is this okay?” asked Charlie, his voice low.
“God, Charlie,” was all Nick could manage at first. His addled brain realised that wasn’t really an answer to Charlie’s question and he struggled to bring himself back to respond more appropriately. “Yes,” he said, rolling his head back and forth a little on Charlie’s stomach. “Please never never never stop.”
Charlie’s hands stilled and Nick looked up with eyes that probably had desperation in them. Charlie bit his bottom lip before releasing it, Nick staring at the pink, perfect skin. “If I don’t stop, then I can’t do this,” said Charlie. He leaned down and tugged at Nick’s shoulder to pull him up. Charlie dipped his head to kiss Nick, and Nick felt dizzy waking up this way - with Charlie’s hands on him, with Charlie’s lips on his. Charlie’s mouth tasted like toothpaste. Nick wanted so much more of it. He pressed closer, Charlie opening his mouth to let in Nick’s tongue, Nick’s hands drifting towards Charlie’s hair. Nick shifted in bed to kiss Charlie more deeply before giving a little start. He gasped and pulled back, his eyes wide, yanking up the sheet to cover his own mouth.
Charlie looked panicked. “What’s wrong?”
Nick kept the sheet in front of his mouth. “Oh my god, Charlie, I was thinking about how you tasted like toothpaste and so perfect, and I just realised that I haven’t brushed my teeth yet! You probably think you’re snogging a snail that was left in the sun.”
Charlie’s face froze in confusion for a moment before he burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Nick,” he got out between giggles.
Nick by this point had gotten out of bed, now clutching a pillow to his face. “No, no, no, no,” he muttered, running to the bathroom with Charlie still giggling behind him. He quickly did what he needed to in the bathroom, finishing by brushing his teeth and then hesitantly checking his breath. He ran a hand through his hair and then squared his shoulders, going back into the bedroom.
Charlie was on the bed, one of the lavender eye pillows that Sarah left in each room laid across his nose. Nick looked at him, puzzled, and he could see Charlie’s mischievous smirk from underneath the pillow. “Sorry,” Charlie said, looking like he was fighting to keep a straight face. “Just trying to use this lovely scent to recover from…before.”
Nick groaned and dove onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows as Charlie laughed. “I’m going to stay here forever in my own halitosis hell kept company by my only friends, the portrait people.”
Nick felt the pillows move around him and closed his eyes when he felt lips on his neck, Charlie’s breath whispering against the sensitive skin. “If you stay there forever, that makes it a lot harder for me to do this to you,” Charlie murmured. Nick gasped into the pillow as Charlie’s lips moved down his neck, leaving a line of hot kisses, the air cool on his skin when Charlie moved to a new spot. Nick was dying. Death was amazing.
He felt Charlie move again, lifting his head to share the pillow with Nick. Nick turned on his side to look at Charlie, his blue eyes soft as they locked with Nick’s. God, Nick could look at Charlie’s face all day. Nick sighed and reached out a hand to stroke Charlie’s cheek. He wanted to stay here all day with Charlie, but everyone was leaving this morning. He surged forward to kiss Charlie once more. They both knew that they had to get up soon, but their kiss was unhurried, unrushed, and with promise behind it. Tonight it would be just the two of them. That feeling made Nick both giddy and terrified, knowing that there would be no interruptions, just them. He wanted to do everything with Charlie, but didn’t know exactly…how. But there’d be time for that. Now, Nick focused back on kissing Charlie, pulling Charlie’s head in close to his before drawing away with a resigned sigh.
Charlie blinked at him, eyes soft and a little smile on his lips. “Hi.”
Nick smiled back. “Hi.”
“Shall we head downstairs and say goodbye?”
“Nope,” said Nick, pulling Charlie into his chest and rocking them back and forth. “I don’t even know those people.”
Charlie snorted. He squeezed Nick once more and then pulled back to sit up. “I’ll introduce you.”
Nick grinned as Charlie got up and cast about looking for something to wear. “You cold, Springtime?”
“Always,” said Charlie, shooting Nick a smile that shouldn’t have made Nick’s stomach swoop like that.
Nick’s jumper was on the floor. Nick had thrown it there in the middle of a heated snogging session with Charlie, his body heat finally enough to make him draw away. He grabbed it for Charlie and offered it, holding it out. “Here, just wear this one.”
Charlie caught it with a little start. “I can wear this?”
Nick looked at him, puzzled. “Yes?”
Charlie turned quickly to pull on the jumper, and Nick saw the tips of his ears looking red as his head emerged. “Thanks,” he said, giving Nick another look.
Nick’s eyebrows creased momentarily. He hated the way that Charlie sometimes seemed like Nick was doing him some massive favour when Nick was doing…nothing. “Always,” he murmured, eyes still on Charlie as Charlie gathered a few things.
They headed downstairs, most of the group already there and chattering. Harriet and Amy had made breakfast today, and there was toast stacked high on a plate on the table, along with turkey sausages Nick had made and frozen in earlier, fruit, yoghurt, and Granelson. Seamus yelled to Amy that Nick and Charlie were down, and Amy called back that she'd start the eggs in that case.
Nick and Charlie joined everyone, tea and coffee pressed into their hands. Nick revelled in the commotion and confusion of the morning, especially when he didn’t need to be responsible for managing it at all. He and Charlie would have a night of respite with no one else there tonight, and then Nick would have a trickle of guests during the week and more during the weekend while Charlie was in London. He had genuinely enjoyed getting to take a break, but it would be good to have people there again while Charlie was away. Nick knew he’d need the distraction. This would be the longest that Charlie would be gone, and Nick could already feel the ache of what it would be like to not have him there, especially after they had finally kissed and admitted how they felt about each other.
He was distracted from his thoughts when Harriet swooped in with the platter of eggs, everyone digging in. The conversation moved as they all ate and talked, and Nick was grateful that no one pushed for any details with him and Charlie. He had to assume that there had been universal group agreement to let them be before he and Charlie came down for breakfast, and he was sincerely appreciative. Nick winced a little when Regan asked about Charlie’s flat, though he relaxed when Charlie told her that property management people said that it was unlikely he’d hear anything until at least mid-January with the holidays. Nick fervently wished that everyone in the entire construction industry decided to go on holiday for the next seventeen years and that Charlie’s flat stayed sufficiently wormy in the meantime.
Nick was genuinely sad as breakfast ended and everyone started to shuffle about to get their things ready to leave. He’d been having such a wonderful time with them all there, and he was going to miss them. Though his sadness was very successfully mitigated by the fact that Charlie was staying. And that he and Charlie would have the whole night together.
Alone.
Nick suppressed that thought as he washed the dishes, chatting with everyone as they drifted in and out getting their things. Elle, Tao, Darcy, and Tara were the first to go, Danny and Darcy both exclaiming that they were going to miss each other with promises to Facetime that Nick had no doubts would indeed happen.
He hugged each of them in turn, pausing before Tao, who had watched his embraces with what looked like rising apprehension. Tao raised his chin and looked at Nick with a mixture of judgement and perhaps approval that felt confusing and gratifying. Tao even extended his hand to Nick, Nick seizing the moment to pull Tao in for a quick hug. Tao made a funny movement where he seemed like he was going to pull back and then lunged forward instead at the last moment, tentatively patting Nick on the shoulder before releasing him. Nick stepped back and nodded at Tao, who looked at Nick for a long moment before nodding back. Nick hadn’t forgotten Tao’s words, and he wanted Tao to know that as far as he was concerned, there was no “in case something happened” in Nick’s mind. Nick would do everything he could to keep Charlie happy.
Tex and Regan took off not long afterwards, Tex hugging Nick and then pulling back to tell Nick how happy he was for him. Regan pulled him into a ferociously loving hug, squealing that he and Charlie were utterly perfect for each other. Nick blushed and grinned at both of them, though he desperately hoped she was right. He knew Charlie was perfect for him, he just hoped he was perfect for Charlie.
Seamus was the next to leave, along with Amy. Nick was out on the porch, saying goodbye to everyone. Charlie had stayed inside to give his own hugs and say his goodbyes, telling Nick that it was way too cold out there and it was lucky that Nick was a human furnace.
Seamus was grinning as he came up to Nick, waking with a bit of his trademark swagger. Without knowing him, someone might think he was a true lad’s lad or even a bit of a twat, but his confident, strutting appearance belied a truly great person - one of the best Nick knew. Nick grinned back as Seamus clapped him on the shoulder.
Nick hesitated a moment. “All right?” What he really meant - are you all right with me? I am all right to you?
Seamus shook his head and pushed Nick on the shoulder. “Fuck, Nelson”, he said, giving a laugh. “You’re one of my best mates in the world. All I want is for you to be happy. And to be a tiny bit worse at rugby than I am.” They both chuckled. They’d had a friendly rivalry the entire time they were in the league, made even more fun when they were on the Badgers and when they were assistant captains together. “Charlie clearly makes you happy,” Seamus shrugged. “What is there to not be all right about?”
Nick felt the smile tugging at his face. He was so lucky that he had landed on this team, with these people. “Yeah,” was all he said, feeling a little overwhelmed with gratitude.
Seamus pointed at him, his brow furrowing. “And fuck any fucker who thinks otherwise, yeah? You let me know if any shit comes up with the league or the media; we’re all here for you.”
“I know,” said Nick, clearing his throat and giving Seamus a sincere nod. “Thank you.”
Seamus grinned again. “Love you, mate.”
“Love you,” said Nick. Danny had very sternly informed all of them that they were going to tell each other they loved each other as often as possible a few years ago, and the lads had all gotten comfortable with it, to where it was now almost second nature.
“Bring Charlie round to a Sale match soon, yeah?” asked Seamus. “Show him a team with some actual quality.”
“Nah, for that you need a team with a good centre,” Nick said. “Sale hasn’t got one of those.”
Seamus laughed and swatted at him as he left, grabbing his and Amy’s bags. Amy followed him out, waving goodbye to Charlie as she left. Nick rolled his eyes at the smug, prim look on her face.
“Nicky, Nicky, Nicky Nelson,” she said, cocking one of her shoulders up in a self-satisfied gesture.
“Shut up,” laughed Nick, grabbing her in a hug. They swayed there for a moment, both laughing lightly.
Amy pulled back and patted Nick on the cheek. “I am so, so happy for you,” she said. “How are you feeling about everything?” She glanced back at Charlie in the house, and Nick turned his head to look, too. Charlie blushed and gave a shy wave, then shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down, still grinning.
“I am great,” said Nick, his gaze still lingering on Charlie. He looked back at Amy. “I am truly so great.”
“Sorry about the beds,” said Amy, her eyes earnest and utterly filled with lies.
Nick laughed. “Sure you are. Sorry about what, not separating them?”
“Oh, sure, that,” agreed Amy. “I’m also sorry that Danny and I used zip ties on all the connected pieces so you and Charlie couldn’t have separated them if you wanted to.” Nick startled out a laugh, raising his eyes to the sky and shaking his head. Amy raised an eyebrow at him and grinned evilly. “Oh my god! You didn’t notice!” She now looked even more smug, if possible. “That means you didn’t even try to separate the beds,” she said, shaking her head. “You absolute minx. I’m so proud of you, you naughty little innkeeper.”
Nick laughed again and pulled her in for another hug. “You are a menace.”
Amy hummed happily against his chest. “Don’t sweet-talk me, darling. I have a boyfriend.”
Nick grinned as he let her go. “Talk this week?”
“Talk this week,” echoed Amy with a smile. She gave his hand one more squeeze and got into the car with Seamus, the two of them waving as they pulled out.
James and Danny were the next to leave, along with Harriet. She was going back with them to Leeds for a few days before heading back home. Nick hugged her first, Harriet whispering how happy she was for him and then raising her voice to tell him how lovely Lavender Fields was. Nick invited her to come back any time and she promised she would.
James put on a hand on Nick’s shoulder as he came out from saying goodbye to Charlie, dropping his bag first. “Congratulations, mate, truly,” he said, then paused. “That sounds weird, I guess? Congratulations for…snogging?” They both laughed. “But no, yeah. Congratulations on finding a person who clearly means a lot to you.”
Nick felt that in his chest. He had found someone who meant a lot to him. He had found someone who meant…well, more than Nick had ever felt before. “Fuck, congratulations to you, James!” said Nick, widening his eyes as he remembered the much bigger event that had happened. He grabbed James’s hand to admire his ring again, James smiling down at it. “You know Danny is so pissed that you did it first.”
James laughed. “I mean, I was not ready to get off a plane in a public airport and have John Legend in a white tuxedo singing So High to me while everyone watched.”
Nick furrowed his eyebrows. “Was…that a possibility?”
James looked at him with raised eyebrows, shaking his head in horrified anguish. “Nick, I saw DMs on his phone.”
Nick laughed incredulously. “Only fucking Danny Turner.”
James shook his head, laughing again. The look of fondness on his face made Nick’s chest ache. “Only Danny,” he said. His expression grew a little more serious. “How are you feeling? About…well, yes, the Charlie stuff - but about everything, you know?”
Nick took in a deep breath, feeling the significance of James’s words. James was asking about more than just Charlie, but about who Nick knew himself to be. Nick as part of the same - the same community as James and Danny. “Good,” said Nick, nodding and looking at him with a significant nod.
James gave him a searching look, then a nod. “Danny and I are here to talk any time you want, okay? About anything.”
“Thank you,” said Nick, his mouth pulling to the side in a half a smile, heart squeezing yet again with the wonder that he had found a group of people like this. “I appreciate that.”
“Love you,” said James, pulling him into a hug.
“Love you too,” returned Nick.
James clapped him on the back as they separated, and went to the car that Harriet had already started warming up. Danny straggled out after with his massive suitcase, claiming that size most assuredly did matter when it came to packing.
Danny set down the bag and grinned at Nick, giving a small nod. “I’m happy for you, you bountiful, bisexual beastie.”
Nick laughed. “I’m happy for me, too.”
Danny chuckled. “How do you feel? After finally pashing your boy?”
“Amazing,” said Nick, shaking his head. “I, like - god. I didn’t realise how much I needed the feeling of getting to, like, be with him until I actually got the chance to, you know?”
Danny gave a rueful smile. “I know.” Nick immediately flushed and went to apologise, but Danny waved him off. “Nah, mate, not at all. It’s just like - it’s like you’ve found a piece that clicked into your soul you didn’t know you were missing, yeah?”
Nick heaved a breath. “God, yeah. And it’s also like - I feel freer, you know? Bigger. Like I’m more of myself. Happier.”
“Hornier?” asked Danny with a wink.
Nick laughed and shook his head. “You are a blight on society.”
Danny winked. “An enormous, deeply queer blight. Suburban mothers fear me.”
“As they should. And fuck, Danny - congratulations to you. To the two of you. You and James - god, I am so happy for the two of you. And so terrified for what the stag do is going to be like.”
Danny laughed as they embraced, squeezing Nick tightly before releasing him, then reaching over and mussing up his hair as if to keep things from being too serious. “Seriously, Nick. I’m dead chuffed for the two of you.” He paused. “And I know it’s…” he trailed off, his eyes looking distant as he looked over Nick’s shoulder. “It can feel a little different, you know? To live your life as who you know you are versus how the world thought it knew you before.”
Nick swallowed and nodded. Of course Danny would know about that. James, too - that was the look James had given him. Nick felt so removed here at Lavender Fields, where it was friends and guests and quiet stolen kisses, wrapped up in cosy warmth. It wasn’t the world. Nick knew the world might be a little different when it came to him and Charlie. Though Nick wanted the world - with Charlie.
“I’m always here for a chinwag, you know? About anything.” Danny was looking at him in an uncharacteristically serious way, and Nick nodded again. “James, too.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before. You know, before when I was figuring everything out. I was just…” Nick shook his head, his eyes meeting Danny’s.
Danny’s eyes were gentle and back to some of their usual sparkle. “I get it, mate,” he said. “I know why you didn’t, honestly. But listen. Me and my well-hung Henry Cavill look-alike are truly here for anything you want to talk about.” Nick snorted and held up his hands in a “please don’t tell me any more things” gesture. Danny laughed. He drew Nick back in for a hug before they separated.
“”I love you more than puppies love playing in the snow,” said Danny, placing a hand on Nick's cheek, then pressing against it to distort his face. Nick snorted. Danny was always ready with one of these, and Nick did his best to keep up.
“I love you more than the first scoop of ice cream from a new carton.”
“I love you more than ice cream that’s at the perfect scoopable temperature but not melting,” Danny volleyed back.
“Damn,” said Nick with a laugh. They embraced once more. Danny waved and headed to the car, heaving his heavy luggage into the boot with such ease that it looked like it weighed nothing. Nick waved to Danny, James, and Harriet as they pulled out of the drive. They had been the last ones to leave. Nick knew it would feel a little odd when he went back into the house. It would be quiet, the sudden stillness unsettling. The sudden disappearance of people always made the house seem larger and emptier, both when guests and friends left. This time, it would be different, though. This time, Nick didn’t think his heart would have that sinking feeling, that bitter-edged letdown of people leaving.
Because now it would just be Nick and Charlie again.
-
They started the afternoon with a visit to the girls and a nap. Both of them were exhausted, and their optimism that they were going to actually watch a film like Charlie had suggested was naive and short-lived. They had settled onto the couch in the upstairs living room, Charlie sitting just a few inches from Nick. It felt like he was miles away. Nick had cleared his throat and did the teenage-movie-thing, faking a yawn into a cough to put his arm around Charlie, loving the giggle that it elicited. Charlie had immediately snuggled close to Nick, and when Nick pulled the blanket around them, he knew he was done for. The familiar sounds of the movie, the warmth of the blanket, and the blissful, deeply comforting feeling of Charlie in his arms lulled Nick into sleep almost immediately. He woke up as the credits were rolling, Charlie still asleep, his head on Nick’s shoulder.
Nick looked down and smiled at the head of curls just below his chin. He leaned over and kissed the top of Charlie’s head, his lips lingering, nose inhaling the amazing scent. Charlie murmured and rolled his head back, slowly opening his gorgeous eyes and looking at Nick.
“Did we fall asleep?”
“You did,” said Nick. “I stayed awake the whole time and was extremely productive.”
“Productive, huh? Is that what you call snoring and drooling onto the blanket?” Charlie was grinning at him with that same cheeky look that made his stomach flip that morning.
“You wouldn’t know,” Nick said primly. “You were asleep.”
Charlie snorted and nuzzled his face against Nick’s arm. Nick loved that feeling. “Mm. It felt nice to rest a little. It’s been a packed weekend.”
“It has,” Nick agreed.
“You probably needed that rest, huh?” asked Charlie. “The amount of work you’ve been doing here is amazing. All of the meals, the cleaning, the cows - I bet it was nice to get a break.”
“It was,” said Nick, nodding. “I still can’t believe my mum has done this for, like, ten years without a break. God, I have no idea how she did it.”
“Maybe because she’s not a complete wimp like some retired rugby players?” suggested Charlie.
“Oi!” exclaimed Nick, laughing. He grinned at Charlie before stretching again. He settled back and Charlie snuggled closer again, Nick tucking his arm around him. “Back to it tomorrow, I guess,” he said, yawning and leaning his head back. “Or tonight, really, we need to eat dinner.”
“I can cook,” Charlie offered.
Nick rolled his head back and forth in a “no” gesture against the back of the couch, making Charlie giggle. Though he didn’t really feel like cooking. Actually - there was a perfect solution. “Hey!” he said. “What about if we go into town for dinner tonight, actually? Since you have to leave tomorrow?”
Charlie sat up and looked at Nick, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of wonder. “Like…go out to dinner together?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, grinning but puzzled at Charlie’s expression. He looked almost…concerned. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Nick could feel his voice falter a little. Maybe that was too much for Charlie. Maybe Nick was pushing too hard, too fast.
“No, not at all,” said Charlie quickly, putting his hand on Nick’s forearm. Nick looked at Charlie’s hand on his arm and moved his other hand to lay it on top of Charlie’s, stroking it with his thumb. “It’s just…do - are you sure you want to go out to dinner? With me?”
Nick was even more confused. They agreed to like each other, and people who liked each other went out to dinner together. “No,” he said facetiously, tilting his head and giving Charlie a bemused look. “I want to go to dinner with Nellie.”
Charlie snorted softly, then sobered. He paused, like he was looking for the right words. “Are you sure you’re okay with, like, going out to dinner with a man? Are you - ready for that?”
Nick blinked. He hadn’t even thought of that, honestly. He’d thought of going to dinner with Charlie, the man he adored. It had never even crossed his mind that anyone else would be allowed to have an opinion on that, and he felt a surge of anger rise in his chest. It was absolutely ridiculous to think that anyone would feel like they had the right to judge Nick going out to dinner with Charlie. He caught the worried-looking expression on Charlie’s face and adjusted his own to wipe the anger off. “Yes,” he said, this time moving his hand to take Charlie’s. He picked up Charlie’s hand in his own and raised it to his lips to kiss it. “I am absolutely ready.”
-
Three hours later, however, Nick was entirely unready. He had gone through approximately three thousand outfit options, changing his mind over and over. He knew this was ridiculous. Charlie had seen him in his terrible barn clothes dozens of times and never seemed to mind. He’d seen Nick in an apron, covered in flour, in sleep clothes - literally nearly every state. Except for a state of undress, the thought of which still did swoopy, exciting-and-terrifying things to Nick’s stomach. He finally settled on dark jeans and an off-white sweater that had a leather tab with a button between the lapels of the soft fabric. He ran his fingers through his hair several times and brushed his teeth in case there was any pre-dinner or car kissing to be had. God, he hoped there was pre-dinner or car kissing to be had.
Nick finished getting ready and then made his way to the dining room where he felt like an awkward teen waiting for his prom date to come down the stairs. He bounced nervously, opening his phone and swiping through several of his social media apps without actually looking at any of them. Nick’s skin prickled in anticipation when he heard the creak of stairs above him, and he looked expectantly at the doorway, waiting for Charlie to appear. Just a moment later, Charlie came through the doorway, looking like a dream Nick didn’t even know his brain would have even been able to conjure.
Charlie looked incredible.
Nick grinned as Charlie approached, the beautiful smile underneath the dark curls looking shy. Nick took a step towards Charlie without even thinking about it. Charlie was wearing black jeans with some artful rips, and a blue and yellow striped sweater that made him look both bright and soothing - the same ways he made Nick feel. He must have put some product in his hair, the locks falling glossy and carefree. “Wow,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You look…”
Charlie half-grinned and looked down at himself, the tips of his ears red again. “Does it…does this look okay?”
Nick shook his head again as he crossed the room over to Charlie, picking up speed in the few steps it took to get to him. “You look so good,” said Nick, wrapping Charlie in a hug and accidentally lifting him an inch or two off the floor in his enthusiasm. “You look so good.”
“Oh,” came the soft, happy voice against his ear. “Thanks.” Charlie rested his cheek on Nick’s shoulder for a moment before they both drew back. “You look pretty okay yours-”
Nick cut him off with a gentle kiss, which made Charlie murmur in surprise before returning it. Nick deepened the kiss once more before settling back on his heels, sighing as he looked at Charlie. “Well,” he said, not able to shake the silly grin off his face. “Ready?” He held out his hand and Charlie looked at it. Nick felt a tinge of nerves that he was pushing too far, too fast. Then Charlie took his hand and smiled up at Nick, and Nick felt like he was soaring.
“Ready,” said Charlie, giving Nick’s hand a squeeze.
The drive to town was as it always was - filled with music, chatter, banter. Nick couldn't imagine that they’d ever run out of things to talk about. They had dropped hands when they got into the car, and Nick felt the urge to reach over to take Charlie’s endlessly. Relief and joy flooded his body when Charlie grabbed Nick’s wrist as Nick laughingly tried to change a song, then slid his fingers down to take Nick’s hand again. They drove to town holding hands sweetly, and Nick reluctantly let go when they found a spot and parked.
Nick and Charlie got out of the car and walked down the quiet street, most people not out to dinner again so soon after New Year’s Eve. They made their way down to the restaurant that Nick liked to go to every so often, holding hands and joking with one another as they walked. It didn’t feel remarkably different between them than it had before they had kissed - it was still the same easy, amazing friendship and connection. That was still there, along with the connection they now shared - and the incredible possibility of more.
Nick found that they were in front of the restaurant in a blink; he had been utterly absorbed in conversation with Charlie. He smiled and pulled open the door with his free hand, Charlie immediately dropping Nick’s as soon as the door swung open. Nick looked down and frowned, quickly schooling his face when Charlie looked up to thank him for holding the door. Nick followed Charlie in and asked for the table, the two of them following the host as they were led into the restaurant and settled into their chairs. Nick couldn’t stop admiring Charlie’s gorgeous face, lit in soft yellows from the dim light in the restaurant.
Dinner was nice, because of course it was. It was with Charlie. They laughed about the past weekend and exchanged stories about each of their friends. Nick giggled as he recalled the time that they had a massive party when he and Danny and some others lived in a luxury flat building.
“One of the neighbours came down to say that he couldn’t sleep, and Danny - oh god, his face just lit up - Danny was like, ‘Oh mate, what luck! We’re having a party down here, join us if you can’t sleep!’”
Charlie laughed hard and Nick smiled broadly. Charlie’s hand was on the table as he laughed and Nick wanted to take it, to slide his fingers slowly up Charlie’s hand, caressing the back of it. He wanted to run his fingers under Charlie’s sleeve, then gently caress the inside of his wrist, making Charlie shiver. Nick wanted to wrap his hand around Charlie’s wrist and pull Charlie towards his body, joining the two of them together. He wanted to take Charlie in his arms and…Nick blushed and shook his head, trying to bring himself back to earth. He was so done for Charlie.
Charlie was looking at him, a soft smile playing at his lips, his eyes bright and focused on Nick. “So,” said Charlie. “Do you want to get dessert?”
Nick cocked his head, immediately suspicious of Charlie’s tone. He raised an eyebrow challengingly. “You know you’re not paying, right? That question very much makes it sound like you’re asking if I want dessert because you’re the one paying and you know that’s not the case.”
Charlie scoffed at Nick. “You sweet giant naive oaf. I’ve been freeloading for months. Of course I’m paying.”
Nick fixed Charlie with the sternest look he was willing to give Charlie, which was perhaps a two out of ten in terms of sternness. “Charlie.”
Charlie scowled, making a cartoonish version of Nick’s face. “Nick.”
“You are not paying for dinner.”
Charlie made his voice a high-pitched, singsong imitation of Nick’s. “You are not paying for dinner.”
“Uncanny,” said Nick flatly, Charlie bursting out in a laugh. “No, seriously, Char! I was the one who invited you to dinner! And I got paid stupid money when I played; please let me pay.” Nick was always mildly embarrassed about his financial situation, and always tried to mollify his feelings by paying for as much as he could, as often as he could. Except around Seamus, who had made more than him. Nick always let Seamus pay.
The waiter dropped the bill on the table while they squabbled good-naturedly and Charlie sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “We can split it. But that’s my final offer.”
“Thank you,” said Nick smugly, dropping his card on top of Charlie’s. He didn’t love the idea of splitting, but it was better than Charlie paying. Charlie made eye contact and smiled at the waiter, who came over to take the bill.
“Whoops,” said Charlie as the waiter approached, grabbing Nick’s card and dropping it under the table. “Here you go,” he said sweetly to the waiter, handing over the bill with only his card tucked into the sleeve. Charlie turned to Nick with giant, apologetic eyes. “Oh my goodness, Nick, it looks like they didn’t see yours, clumsy me!”
Nick knew he had a giant, bemused grin on his face. He shook his head. “Holy shit, you little menace!”
Charlie widened his eyes theatrically. “I must have dropped it accidentally! How dare you make fun of my butterfingers? We’re not all professional athletes like you!”
Nick rolled his eyes and bent to pick up his card as the waiter came back. “You’re going to pay for that, Spring.”
“Oh yeah?” said Charlie, laughing now. He gave Nick a saucy look. “Make me.”
Make me.
Nick felt a little shiver run down his spine as he straightened back up, his eyes travelling up Charlie’s body as he returned to his seat. The words were said teasingly, but Nick could imagine…those words…said in a different context. Nick bit his lip without meaning to. He could feel his bottom lip slipping against his teeth as it slowly dragged away. He took a deep breath and looked at Charlie, trying to settle himself. He was startled to see that Charlie’s face had shifted as well. Charlie was looking at Nick with eyes that were more intense, more hungry, his gaze dragging from Nick’s mouth up his face. They locked eyes and Nick felt his heart rate pick up.
Nick took a shaky breath in. “Are you ready to go back?” asked Nick, his voice huskier than he meant for it to come out. God, Nick was ready to go back. The air in the restaurant felt thicker, suddenly. Every movement of Nick’s body felt slow, as if dragged through honey. It was warm. He was warm. The inside of the restaurant was warm. Everything was warm.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his voice quiet and low. He cleared his throat, but the expression on his face didn’t change. It was still intense and wanting, and it made Nick’s low belly tighten, tingles shooting up and down his spine.
They stood and Nick itched to extend his hand to take Charlie’s, though he wasn’t sure how Charlie would feel about that. He instead followed Charlie to the car, the two of them making their way back in relative quiet, the scrape and scuff of their shoes on the pavement thunderously loud. They got back in the car and Nick started the truck, reversing out and getting them back on the road.
The truck felt different this time. Nick could feel the heat of his body radiating off him as they got into the cold truck, the heater taking a bit to kick on. As they drove, Nick kept growing warmer, despite the bitter air still pressing in through the window, not yet chased out by the car’s system. Just like in the restaurant, the inside of the truck, the air between them, felt entirely unlike when they had driven to town. It was heavy, with pent-up longing and anticipation and the promise of a house that would be empty. A place just for them.
Nick felt like his skin was crackling already, and he suppressed a shiver when Charlie reached over to trace his fingers along Nick’s left thigh. Nick momentarily glanced away from the road and then back to it. He took in a long, shuddery breath when he dropped his hand to cover Charlie’s and Charlie moved his again. Charlie did what he had done a few nights ago, letting his fingers drift on top of Nick’s hand, lightly slotting his fingertips in the spaces between Nick’s digits. He hooked his fingertips into the grooves between Nick’s fingers, the feeling of their skin sliding together one Nick knew he’d return to in his fantasies for weeks. He could feel his stomach swooping and dropping like he was on an amusement park ride, giddy and terrifying.
Nick glanced over at Charlie and they locked eyes. Nick moved his hand to graze Charlie’s thigh, preening a little internally at the soft sound Charlie let out. He glanced quickly over at Charlie again to make sure it was okay, and then started to rub the outside of Charlie’s thigh with his thumb, stroking against the strong, thin muscles there. He let his fingers drift upwards an inch or two, and Charlie murmured and closed his eyes. Nick was still nowhere near…anything…but the thrill of even being close to the crease of Charlie’s hip was dizzying. The music was quiet in the background. Everything outside of Nick’s body felt muted. His body, though, felt like it was sparkling and buzzing, effervescing. He felt so deeply alive, the tendrils of anticipation running through his body. Charlie’s hand was on top of Nick’s, now, playing with the back of his hand and making Nick feel melted and pliant.
Nick felt like they had been in the car for hours, even though town was just ten minutes away. Simmering. That’s what it felt like - it felt like the two of them were simmering, the atmosphere just under a boil. Nick wondered what would happen when they got back - would the heat increase just a fraction to push them over the edge, or would they both cool down, cool off, calm themselves? Nick was aching with nerves and eagerness and giddy terror when he pulled the truck into the car park on the non-guest side of the house, the two of them looking at each other for a long moment.
And then the spark burst into flames.
Nick felt consumed by fire as their bodies met, surging towards one another in the truck. They were kissing, mouths on each other’s and desperate. Nick ripped at his seatbelt to better wrap his arms around Charlie, and he chuckled when he heard Charlie cursing the inventor of the seatbelt and every goddamn person on the assembly line as he pulled at his own. Once freed, Charlie half-lunged on Nick, Nick moaning as Charlie’s weight pressed against his chest, loving the pressure of Charlie’s body. They kissed for another minute until Nick pulled back, hating the feeling of Charlie’s body being away from his but wanting to be even closer, more connected to each other.
“Charlie,” he said, hearing how husky his own voice was.
“Yeah?” asked Charlie, looking at him and stroking his fingers through Nick’s hair.
Nick closed his eyes in pleasure, forcing himself to open them again. “Want to try making out without a gear shift between us?”
Charlie looked down where the gear shift was digging into his hip and giggled. “Yeah, I think that might feel better.”
Nick grinned and they both got out of the truck, making their way into the house, both of them taking off their shoes after they got inside. Nick felt a momentary worry that he had ruined it - that the moment was gone; that the fire had subdued and Nick wouldn’t know how to get it back. All he knew is that he loved the feeling of Charlie’s body on his; loved the feeling of Charlie’s weight pressing against him. He wanted that feeling again. He wanted to be entirely present with Charlie, with the two of their bodies together. It felt - it still felt scary, to think of anything more than kissing. But Nick wanted it. He wanted it so badly.
Nick opened the door for Charlie. They had gone in the front door, the one that connected to the hallway with the portrait people, as that was closest to the stairs. They’d be staying in Charlie’s room again tonight, as Nick hadn’t changed the sheets or cleaned any of the rooms, and he felt a little oddly about the idea of doing…anything…with Charlie in what was really his mum’s bed. Not that he expected anything to happen tonight. He wanted that. God, he wanted that. But he would never, ever would expect-
Nick let out a little sound when Charlie pushed him against the wall, his hands fisting in Nick’s sweater. Nick groaned into Charlie’s mouth and wrapped one arm around Charlie’s waist, the other holding the back of his head. He swung them around and pushed Charlie against the wall now, bracing his hands so that they connected to the wall first, not Charlie. There was a thump as Nick’s hands and Charlie’s back hit the wall, Charlie pulling Nick even closer. Nick adjusted his feet so that their bodies were close together, wanting to stay present and acutely aware that his hips were close to Charlie’s, Charlie’s hips were close to his. He breathed deeply through his nose, trying to stay calm and keep his body - relaxed.
Charlie ran his fingers into Nick’s hair and tightened his grip, pulling a little on Nick’s hair. Nick moaned loudly and immediately breathed out, “Please don’t stop. Keep - keep…yeah.” Charlie let out a soft, low noise and pulled a little harder, Nick tilting his head back and groaning with pleasure. Charlie lifted his head and kissed Nick’s neck, Nick gripping Charlie’s arms to try to stay afloat in this sea of intense feeling. Nick could feel himself getting more and more aroused and tried to stay in his body. Was this too soon? Was this going to be…more than kissing? Did Nick know how to do more than kissing? Of course he did. Right? He had done more than kissing many, many times with women. Would he be good for Charlie, though? Was Charlie going to be comfortable with more than kissing? Wouldn’t Charlie want a partner who actually knew what they were doing and could make Charlie feel good? As the thoughts swirled, Nick also felt intensely aware of the sensations pooling in his low belly. His body and mind battled, his mind eventually winning, anxiety over arousal.
He pulled back with a gasp to separate their hips slightly to create a little space. He was immediately unhappy, though, so he moved his chest forward, bending his head down to kiss Charlie’s neck even as he kept their lower halves separated. He kissed up the side of Charlie’s neck and moved to his ear, pulling on the lobe with his teeth again in the way that Charlie had seemed to like so much. Charlie gasped and threw his head back. They both jumped at the immediate thump and sound of shattering glass, looking down to see Murdery Marvin looking at them from the floor, the portrait knocked to the ground.
Nick and Charlie looked at each other with wide eyes, Marvin glaring up at them, his expression frozen and most likely homicidal.
Charlie broke the silence first. “Oh my god,” he said. He looked down at the portrait and then up at Nick again. He spoke in a stage-whisper. “Do you think the ghosts are going to live in our penises now?”
Nick blinked and then burst into loud laughter. Charlie joined in, the two of them holding each other in the shattered remains of the portrait, most likely with an angry ghost swooping between them. He suddenly felt lighter, ridiculously so. Charlie’s joke - Charlie’s reference to their penises, in such a silly way - knocked him out of his head. They were just two people who liked each other. They had bodies. Nick liked Charlie’s body. He also liked his brain and intelligence and humour and intellect and kindness. Charlie seemed to like Nick’s body, too, as well as the other things that he had said he liked about Nick. Nick needed to get out of his goddamn head. Being with Charlie - being with a man - that was new, yes. But the feelings he had for Charlie weren’t new. The desire for each other was mutual and real and…not scary.
Nothing about this was scary. It was all good. Charlie was good, the trust they had in each other was good, and whatever they did, whatever they tried, no matter how imperfect or unpractised - that would be good too.
Nick grinned at Charlie and raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “You know what they say about having to take a wee when there’s a ghost living in your dick, right?”
Charlie sighed, the sound coming up from his toes. “I am preemptively sad for whatever you say next, Nick.”
“Well, when that happens - urine trouble.”
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as Nick giggled, finally opening his eyes and laying his head on Nick’s shoulder. “I literally don’t know how you do it. Like, both how you think of these and how you live with yourself.”
“Just lucky, I guess,” smiled Nick against Charlie’s hair, reaching up a hand to run his fingers through Charlie’s curls.
“Let me get a broom,” Charlie murmured quietly as Nick kissed his cheek, his forehead, his jaw. “I’m the one who broke it.”
“No, we broke it,” corrected Nick. “And if you think I am letting you out of my arms, you’ve got another thing coming, Springtime.”
Charlie made a happy sound that turned into a squeal when Nick lowered his arms to seize Charlie by the ribs, picking him up. “Oh my god, Nick,” he laughed. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you safe from glass and ghosts,” Nick explained, pretending to keep his voice serious. “Neither one can attack you if you’re off the ground.”
Charlie laughed and leaned back, Nick setting him down with a grin. Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Nick’s lips, one that was both soft and sensual. “Thank you for keeping me safe,” he said, looking at Nick with a flirty look.
A warm feeling spread through Nick’s chest. He returned Charlie’s smile. “I don’t think Marvin can climb stairs, you know.”
“No?” asked Charlie with a grin.
“Nope,” said Nick. “Nine out of ten scientists agree that ghosts are rubbish at stair-climbing.”
Charlie laughed. “Wow, you’ve clearly had a lot of conversations with ten scientists about ghosts in the past. Well, then. We’d better go upstairs to my room. For safety.” He gave Nick a saucy look. “Race you?”
Nick didn’t even have time to protest that Charlie was cheating when he took off like a shot. Nick followed him up the stairs, Charlie laughing as he whipped down the hall and skidded into the room. Nick chased him, taking the stairs two at a time and diving onto the bed after Charlie in a tackle, pinning Charlie against the pillows. He seized Charlie in a bear hug, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s narrow frame. Nick leaned his mouth close to Charlie’s ear, and it sounded like Charlie’s breath was light and shuddery, already leaning his head to the side in anticipation of Nick lavishing attention on his neck.
“I have to tell you something,” purred Nick against Charlie’s ear.
“Yeah?” Charlie breathed back, eyes closed.
“This is my side of the bed,” Nick said. Charlie’s eyes opened and Nick grinned before flipping Charlie around, wrestling him onto the other side of the bed.
Charlie was laughing. “I was sleeping on this side first!”
“I’ve been alive longer than you! I established my side of the bed first in life!” They were both giggling and wrestling, Nick keeping his weight light to avoid putting too much pressure on top of Charlie, but still flopping on top of him playfully.
“Ugh, get off, you giant rugby idiot,” Charlie said, laughing. He pressed up and Nick moved, then the two of them were grappling again, rolling around on the bed. Charlie moved against Nick with surprising strength for his size, flipping Nick on his back (though Nick secretly helped a bit). Nick’s back was against the pillows, his knees bent. They were both breathing heavily, smiles still on each of their faces. Nick’s breath caught as he took in the moment Charlie was sitting on top of Nick’s hips, leaning forward against Nick’s chest. He was straddling Nick with his hands on either side of Nick’s head, pinning Nick’s arms above him. Nick’s body was tingly and floating, Charlie’s weight on him the only thing keeping him from flying away.
Nick and Charlie met eyes with one another. The flirty, self-satisfied smile on Charlie’s face changed into something different, the look morphing into something more aching, more wanting, more primal. Nick felt a seismic shift in the Earth. This was possibly the hottest thing he had experienced - ever. Nick felt a stir in his hips, intensely aware of where Charlie was sitting, how their bodies were fitting together. It felt overwhelming and hot and perfect. Charlie met Nick’s eyes and Nick raised his chin, desperate to feel Charlie’s lips on his. Charlie pressed forward immediately, their mouths meeting together, passion and feeling sparking where their lips met. Charlie released Nick’s arms and wrapped one arm around Nick’s neck, the other tangling in his hair. Nick moaned obscenely, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s lower back to pull him tighter.
Charlie glided forward to kiss Nick more deeply, and Nick whimpered. He could feel Charlie moving against him - could feel his chest on Nick’s chest, his hips on Nick’s hips. The dragging glide of Charlie’s body against his sent zings of electricity and feeling through his body, shooting out from between his legs and coming back. Nick’s whole body was sizzling with electricity and arousal, the air feeling dense in his lungs. Nick tried to breathe through it, but then remembered what he had realised downstairs. He could be present with this man, this man that he adored. This man who communicated with him. This man he’d keep checking in with to make sure he was comfortable. This man who was in his arms, was against his body, whose warm breath ghosted along his neck when he drew back from placing kisses there. He was allowed to be attracted to this man. He was allowed to have the feelings he was having about this man.
Charlie.
They were kissing each other’s mouths, each other’s necks, each other’s chests. Nick broke their kiss once to make eye contact with Charlie and gesture at the hem his own sweater, Charlie immediately leaning back so Nick could sit up partially to pull it off, Charlie helping. Charlie pulled off his, as well, revealing a thin white t-shirt underneath. Once partially undressed, Charlie flopped back forward to press his chest against Nick again, their hands travelling over each other’s backs and arms.
Nick felt Charlie incrementally rock his hips, drawing up and down slightly as they kissed. Nick fisted the back of Charlie’s t-shirt and groaned, feeling himself pressing against Charlie. Charlie was a hard line against Nick, and the mounting pressure combined with the rolls of their hips against one another made Nick’s vision feel blurry around the edges.
Charlie pulled back and looked at Nick, meeting his eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice intense and like he truly cared about the answer. He stopped moving as he waited for Nick to respond.
“Yes, Charlie,” breathed Nick, arching his back up and making Charlie gasp, his fingers digging into Nick’s upper arms. “I - god, I love this.”
Charlie groaned and rocked his hips a little harder, his motions getting bigger, his hips grinding down against Nick. Nick felt like he was a whetstone, sparks flying off. He was alive and crackling and so full of feeling. He was wearing silky boxer-briefs under his jeans, and the combined friction from his heavy jeans against the silky fabric against himself was dizzying. Their mouths were on each other, on lips and necks. Charlie’s lips and teeth would nibble against Nick’s ear, and then Nick would moan and dive forward to suck on Charlie’s skin, fingers digging into Charlie’s body. Charlie’s movements against him were growing harder, Charlie dragging himself against Nick. Nick was pressing back up each time, his back lifting off the mattress to press their lower bodies together. This was so, so good. This was so right.
Nick could feel the pooling sensation low in his belly, the buildup of heat and mounting sensation. He leaned his head back and moaned when Charlie pressed himself tighter and closer to Nick, kissing his neck while drawing up and down with his hips, over and over. As Charlie moved, the shadows from the gentle light outside flickered over his face. His lips were on Nick, then drawing back to look at him. The soft t-shirt on his chest rubbed against Nick’s pecs with every thrusting movement forward. Nick had wrapped a foot around one of Charlie’s calves. Every inch of Nick’s body was part of this, was alive. In the movements, in the deliciousness, in the firm, dragging press of Charlie’s body, Nick could feel the rush towards the cliff. He gasped. “Charlie…”
“Nick,” said Charlie against his neck, and the throatiness of Charlie saying his name while they were here, together, doing this - Nick felt himself tip over the edge. He gripped the back of Charlie’s arms as he finished, moving his arms to brace Charlie against him, the friction delicious as he rode the crest of the wave. Charlie’s body kept motion against his, and Nick felt like a full minute had passed, still clutching Charlie’s body against his tightly, every pulsation a new wash of pleasure. Finally, he pulled Charlie against his chest to rest, the two of them catching their breath as their bodies stilled, eyes closed.
Nick distantly felt prickling embarrassment at the idea of finishing in his trousers like a fourteen-year-old, and he looked at Charlie, ready to apologise. Charlie’s eyes were half-hooded, looking at Nick, his mouth slightly parted. He kissed Nick and then ran a hand through Nick’s hair, sending a shiver down his spine, going all the way to his hips and making him shudder pleasurably. “You okay?” Charlie asked again.
Nick let out a single syllable of a laugh. “Besides the fact that I have no bones, yes,” he said emphatically, making Charlie laugh softly. “God, Charlie, you…” Nick trailed off, shaking his head. “I feel like I’m a teenager. That was a little embarrass-”
“That was hot,” said Charlie firmly, kissing Nick again and leaving his brain gloriously muddled. “God, you are hot.”
Nick scoffed. “Have you seen yourself?”
Charlie gave a half-confused and amused look, drawing back and shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, Charlie.” Charlie blinked. Nick had thought that so many times, but hadn’t actually said it to Charlie yet. He was glad he finally had.
Charlie’s eyes were looking at Nick’s, like he was trying to see if Nick was serious. He blushed, shaking his head. “I’m not.”
“Charlie,” said Nick incredulously. “I just literally came in my pants from you rubbing against me.”
Charlie let out a quick laugh, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he said. “Not laughing at you.”
Nick laughed too. “No, no offence taken,” he said. “You’re just…fuck, you’re so sexy, Charlie Spring.” He lunged forward, tackling Charlie back onto the bed. “You’re so sexy.” Nick leaned on one hip as to avoid pressing the wet spot of his jeans against Charlie. His eyes travelled down Charlie’s body, Charlie looking at him like he couldn't quite believe Nick was there. Nick felt the same way about Charlie. “You’re hot as fuck, you’re fit, you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever seen.” Charlie’s black jeans were tight and Nick could see Charlie was still fully aroused. Nick moved closer, wrapping one arm around Charlie’s, cupping his far hip bone. He felt that same swirl of agreeable nervousness in his belly as he grounded down, ready to ask for what he wanted. What he actually, really wanted. Charlie’s breath was light and panting, his eyes watching Nick. “Can I…” Nick swallowed. “Can I touch you?”
Charlie took in a sharp inhale and nodded immediately. “Yes,” he said, his eyes clear and intense. “Please, Nick.” Charlie took Nick’s hand away from his hip bone and placed it on himself, on the outside of his jeans.
Nick stifled a gasp, feeling Charlie under his hand. He was firm, hard. He felt…incredible. He felt incredible against Nick’s hand. Nick looked up at Charlie, whose eyes were closed, his head thrown back. Nick could see the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple. Charlie’s throat, his pleasure, the sounds he was making - they electrified all of his feelings, amplifying the sensations in his body, every nerve lighting up. He moved his hand tentatively at first, pressing against Charlie through his jeans, Charlie’s hand on top of his to start. Charlie moaned as Nick quickened his motion, pressing lightly on some movements and harder on other strokes. Charlie’s hand fluttered away from Nick’s and found its way to Nick’s hair, making Nick feel liquid again. His hand stuttered as Nick changed his speed and pressure, fingers curling and tightening into fists to pull sharply a few times. Nick gasped with pleasure, his own body re-awakening in a shockingly short amount of time.
Nick could have watched Charlie all day. He could see the rise and fall of Charlie’s chest as he breathed, panting shallow breaths interspersed with deeper pulls of air. Nick had only been stroking Charlie a few minutes when Charlie tensed up, his fingers tightening in Nick’s hair again in the way that made Nick’s body flood with pleasure. “Nick,” he said, his voice achingly beautiful. “I’m going to…I…”
“Yes,” said Nick, keeping the same motion, pressing down incrementally harder with his hand, curling his fingers to better fit around Charlie. “Please, Charlie…”
Charlie gasped and his hips jerked as Nick continued to work against him, his head arching back as he came. Nick kept his hand on Charlie through his orgasm, pulling away gently once Charlie’s breath settled down and his body relaxed. Charlie was breathing heavily through his nose, and he blinked when Nick moved up to lay his head next to Charlie, both of them turning their heads to look at each other.
“Hi,” said Charlie, his eyes opening and then closing again.
“Hi,” said Nick, grinning and softly kissing Charlie’s nose.
Charlie opened his eyes and looked at Nick, stroking against his hair. “Thank you.”
Nick blinked and looked at Charlie, whose eyes had closed again. He shook his head to himself and laid an arm across Charlie’s chest. “That was…”
They spoke at the same time.
“Incredible.”
“Amazing.”
They both opened their eyes and looked at one another, grinning.
Charlie’s smile was soft, wondering. “Do you feel okay?”
“I feel like all of my muscles have been replaced with pasta.”
Charlie snorted. “That is…a unique post-orgasm experience?”
Nick laughed and leaned over to kiss Charlie. “I - you…god, Charlie. You are amazing.”
Charlie laughed, shaking his head and blushing. “You’re amazing, Nick Nelson.”
Nick stretched and winced. “Not amazing, though - these jeans right now.”
Charlie sighed ruefully in agreement. “I know.”
Nick paused, hesitating. “Maybe next time…” he started. “Maybe next time we try, uh - things not in jeans?” He felt the heat on his neck, tempered by his absolute trust in Charlie.
“Next time?” Charlie asked, a smile in his voice.
Nick sat up and leaned over, kissing Charlie long and sure.
“Next time,” he said.
Notes:
Turkey sausage patties
It’s fairly easy to make your own turkey breakfast sausages, for my friends who are looking for a more savoury breakfast.
2 pounds ground turkey
2 tsp kosher salt
1 ½ tsp black pepper
1 ½ tsp ground sage
1 ½ tsp thyme
½ tsp marjoram
½ tsp red pepper flakesMix the spices and herbs in a small dish. Put the ground turkey in a large bowl. Sprinkle the spice mixture over the turkey in small batches, mixing after each addition. You can wear gloves to do this - either way, it’s recommended to oil the gloves or oil your hands when forming the patties. Make the patties about 2 inches in diameter, about half an inch thick.
Place the patties on parchment paper and then place layers of parchment paper between layers of patties. You can freeze or refrigerate the patties, or prepare them right away. To prepare, cook in a skillet over medium heat, 3-4 minutes per side. You can also cook the patties from frozen, 6-7 minutes per side.
Chapter 22: Home
Summary:
Last Time: The boys go on their first official date, and are almost certainly haunted. They discovered what other parts of being ‘in like’ can look like.
This Time: Charlie is gone for a week and Nick Does Not Like It™. But then he comes back and Nick Does Very Much Like That Part™.
Notes:
Oh, wavey, oh NSB. You edit, you flail, you love, and you are amazing friends. There has been an amazing development in Wavey's fic The Write-Up. It has me melty and happy, like slowly eating a coffee chocolate chip ice cream cone on a warm day. Wavey, I am constantly astounded by you - your creativity, your writing, your kindness.
For NSB, there are big things a'coming with As You Are. It's such a delightful bisexual awakening story and is gentle and funny and moving. NSB, you blow me away with the way you bring loveliness into the world.
BeezusRed's cows got a little feisty after the last chapter in Heat Moo-sings. Check the(moo)out!
Light CW for discussion of body image (non-detailed).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick Nelson did everything he could to keep Charlie Spring in bed the next morning. Everything meaning aggressive, insistent snuggling with the intention of making Charlie so warm and cosy that he would be out of his mind to try to get up and leave the comfort of Nick’s arms.
Charlie had murmured that he needed to get going about half an hour after they woke up, the early alarm leaving them both bleary. Nick had set it a bit earlier than normal, figuring that they’d want some time together before he had to get up to take care of the cows and Charlie had to make his way back to London. They’d spent those thirty minutes kissing - brief kisses on each other’s mouth, aware of morning breath but neither inclined to get up to do anything about it. Charlie had kissed across Nick’s clavicle, leaving feather-light touches of his lips on Nick’s bare skin. Nick had slept in athletic shorts only, pulling them on after discarding his now-desperately-needing-a-wash jeans from the night before. Charlie had slept in sleep pants and one of Nick’s hooded jumpers to start. He’d thrown it aside during the night again to sleep in a t-shirt he had underneath, sufficiently warmed by the Nick Nelson glued to his body.
For the last five minutes, Nick had pressed kisses up and down Charlie’s neck and arms, peppering the inside of his wrist and forearms with soft drags of his lips. Charlie had arched his back at the touch, and Nick had only reluctantly pulled back with a sigh, not wanting to start something that they’d feel rushed to finish. Nick knew that he wanted to keep exploring and experiencing this new intimacy with Charlie. He wanted it to feel right, for them. Unhurried. Patient.
As the hour of actual get-up approached (and had passed, slightly), Nick was turned on his side, Charlie facing him. Charlie’s head rested on Nick’s arm, and Charlie had his top leg tucked around Nick’s shin, hooking their legs together. Nick had Charlie pulled tight into his body with one arm, and Charlie’s face was pressed close to Nick’s pecs, his nose brushing against Nick’s blonde chest hairs. They both knew it was time to get up, and Nick’s whole body protested when Charlie started to shift and sigh resignedly.
“Don’t goooo,” whined Nick, dragging out the word to show he was mostly joking. Sort of.
Charlie immediately flopped back against Nick’s chest instead of moving. “Okay. I’ll stay here forever.”
Nick hummed and pulled Charlie closer with both arms. “Why do you have to leave?”
“Capitalism,” Charlie murmured from against his skin, the word muffled by Nick’s chest muscles.
“Capitalism is homophobic,” said Nick, sighing, eyes still closed.
Charlie drew back and looked at Nick with a delighted expression, Nick opening his eyes to meet Charlie’s. “Did you just make your first gay joke?!”
Nick blinked, then smiled. He shimmied his shoulders as well as he could in muted, blanketed triumph. “I think I did.” His eyes widened and he gave Charlie a happy squeeze before pulling his head back to look at Charlie with delight. “Oh my god, Charlie, you know what I just realised?”
Charlie was leaning back as much as he could in their embrace, looking at Nick with what now looked like suspicion. “What?”
“This opens up an entire world of queer puns for me! Oh, think of the possibilities,” Nick crowed, ignoring Charlie’s muted sound of dismay. “Okay, just realise that every time I say goodbye to you, if I say, ‘bye, Charlie’, in my head I’m really spelling it, ‘bi, Charlie’!”
Charlie drew back again and raised a half-amused, half-resigned eyebrow at him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if I was the one saying ‘bi, Nick?’”
Nick furrowed his brow in momentary annoyance for not seeing that for himself first. He recovered quickly and shook his head solemnly, pressing a finger against Charlie’s lips, pressing them up and away to the side as Charlie laughed and protested. “Shhh, shhh. Just let bi-gones be bi-gones.” Nick paused. “You know how I was spelling that in my head, right?”
Charlie shoved his face back against Nick’s chest. “Just assume forever that I’ll always know how you’re spelling everything in your head.”
Nick laughed and leaned down to kiss Charlie’s curls. “Fine. I’ll disen-gay-ge my queer pun protocol until you leave. Starting now, I mean.”
The vibration of Charlie chuckling against his body felt so nice that Nick knew if he let this keep going, they’d never get up. He sighed, and kissed Charlie’s shoulder before rolling away, the two of them stretching and smiling at one another before finally getting out of bed.
It took a long time to say goodbye. Nick stood at Charlie’s car for at least ten minutes, neither of them seemingly able to be the one to officially end the long weekend. Nick had taken care of the cows while Charlie packed up, and then they had met up in the kitchen together to drink their coffee and tea while Nick made oatmeal cranberry bars as an arrival treat for that afternoon’s guests. The house smelled amazing when they had left to bring the bags to the car park, and Nick’s heart hurt when Charlie lamented that he wasn’t going to be there to enjoy any of the cranberry bars.
“I’ll save you some,” Nick promised. Though he actually meant that he’d whip up a new batch by the time Charlie got back, internally scoffing at the idea of giving Charlie week-old anything.
Charlie was the one to finally break their embrace, pulling back with a sigh and resting his head on Nick’s chest for a moment. He stepped back and smiled softly at Nick.
“I’ll see you in a week, yeah?”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick. Nick was both endlessly grateful that Charlie was coming back to Lavender Fields for the foreseeable future, and mournful that he would need to endure a week without the most perfect man in the world. “And I’ll try to get all of the puns out of my system before you come back.”
Charlie raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Will you?”
“Charlie!” scolded Nick, affecting an offended expression. “I am hurt. Queerly you don’t believe in me!”
Charlie let out a laugh, then leaned forward for one more kiss, which Nick returned, softly and with promise for when Charlie came back. Their foreheads stayed connected for a long moment before Charlie got into his car, keeping Nick’s gaze until the last possible second. Nick waved as he left, feeling his heart a little heavier in his chest as the car rolled away. He waited until the brake lights were completely gone before going back into the house. It was quiet.
Nick sighed and got down to work. It was going to be a long week.
-
It was honestly a blessing when guests arrived that afternoon. All morning the house had been so quiet it almost tingled, Charlie’s absence feeling like a physical bruise on Nick’s body. He had grown so accustomed to having Charlie there, especially when everyone else was around. No matter what was going on, they had never been far apart, often finding themselves smiling to one another in quiet corners despite the raucous noise around them. With the Badgers gone and no Charlie by his side, Nick felt distinctly unmoored.
He busied himself with cleaning the house from top to bottom. The cleaners had come by a few times to help out that past weekend, but now Nick threw himself into work, scouring every inch of nearly every room. He stripped all of the beds and did the laundry, sweeping and mopping and cleaning every room. Nick worked with vigour, pausing at the door of Charlie’s room. He changed the sheets, of course - and thought to himself, with heat rising through his body, that it was possible he’d be changing the sheets a lot more often - but he did little else besides freshening some towels. Charlie was a guest in a technical sense, but in other ways he wasn’t at all. Charlie was…he was…well…
Nick didn’t know what Charlie was. But this was his home right now, and Nick didn’t want to invade his privacy at all, doing only what he needed to give the bathroom a cursory clean.
Nick lingered in Charlie’s room for a moment longer before leaving, breathing in the faint, just-there scent of Charlie still in the room. Nick could never quite place what it was - it was a mixture of his cologne, yes, and his deodorant, but it was also something so personally and uniquely Charlie. It was intoxicating and addicting, and Nick took a deep breath in before shutting the door carefully, almost respectfully. He already missed Charlie every moment of every day, like the longing for him was a bruise, and everything pressed against it. Nick had already seen a hundred things today that made his heart twinge: Charlie’s coffee mug, a stray joker playing card they had set aside before playing Rummy and forgot to return to the pack, the soft blue and yellow sweater that Charlie had worn on their date, tossed over the back of the chair in his room. Nick looked quietly at Charlie’s closed door for a moment before turning and going back to continue working on the house. He couldn’t wait for his boy to come back.
-
Nick quickly readjusted to having people who were not just his mates in the house as the guests came and went through the course of that week. He did genuinely love this part of the inn; he loved learning where people had come from, what they did, the things that they wanted to see while they stayed at Lavender Fields. Nick had known for a long time that he was an extrovert in that he got energy from making connections with people, but an introvert in that it wasn’t just being around people. He had learned in his professional days that the media circus and press and marketing events were a drain - hundreds of people who wanted to say that they knew him. On the other hand, there was nothing he liked more than being in a small group of people who authentically wanted to get to know him, and he them.
Nick learned into the work at the inn that week, getting himself back into a routine. He was up early, feeding and taking care of the cows, then cooking breakfast and cleaning the dishes. Nick would freshen rooms when the guests left for the day, off to do whatever adventures they had planned or Nick had recommended. He’d usually get a bit of time to himself in the afternoon, where he would work out, complete a few repairs around the house, and catch up with someone - Amy, Seamus, Danny, his mum. And Charlie, of course. Always, always Charlie.
Spending time with the Badgers at Lavender Fields had made Nick feel more fulfilled than he had been since he retired, though there was the confounding factor of that time being with Charlie, too. He knew that Charlie was a huge, central part of the groundedness he had felt when everyone was together. Having his team friends there had given Nick such a sense of calm, warm comfort as a baseline. But then having Charlie there on top of the team being there, god… Having Charlie by his side added an entirely different feeling. It was beyond the physical, too, though Nick liked the physical part. He liked it a lot. He was also collecting lots of ideas and information from the vigorous research he was doing while Charlie was gone. He couldn’t quite explain it, but it was like Charlie was intertwined in Nick’s mind and body.
Danny and James had once gotten into an exasperated row with each other at a weekend away one summer when a group from the team had rented a house together. It was nothing serious at all, just an annoyance with too little sleep and too much alcohol. Danny and Nick had talked on the porch, Danny explaining with fond annoyance how stupidly in love with James he was, even when James was completely (Danny wouldn’t let go of that point) wrong. Danny had described his feelings for James as being like a dandelion, the roots going so deep into his soul that his love for James was an inextricable part of him. Sometimes the flower bloomed brightly, sometimes its petals were less showy, but regardless, that love was so tangled and rooted into Danny that it was truly a part of who Danny was. He and Nick had talked for a few minutes, and it wasn’t much longer after that until Danny smiled and thanked Nick for listening. Danny had trotted off to find James, and none of the team were surprised when the two of them emerged from their bedroom later, flushed with love and other…things…that Danny proudly told everyone the two of them had done to each other after mutually apologising.
Nick had stayed on the porch for a while after that, though, reflecting on what Danny had said. He had been dating Marla for a couple of years at that point, and it had taken him a while to realise why Danny’s words had struck him in the way that they did. Nick loved Marla, but he realised that love felt different. It was like a layer that he wore, a comfortable and familiar one. It protected him from the world in a lot of ways, protected him from his fears of being alone and being lonely. He cared about her, too, of course - Nick genuinely wanted her to be happy and fulfilled. Yet he hadn’t felt that same, soul-deep love that Danny had described, the way tiny things would pull on the roots of his love and remind him of James. Nick had remembered that talk with Danny as he and Marla increasingly realised that they were friends, not lovers. They were people who respected each other, but not souls who ached to be together.
Nick figured that maybe it just wasn’t like that for some people. After all, Danny and James had wanted for so long to be with each other, their love a truly unique thing that Nick hadn’t had the joy of seeing in most people’s relationships. Maybe he would love people more…quietly. Nick would experience a quieter, more murmured love than the love that Danny and James felt. That would be okay. Nick could be okay with that.
Then he met Charlie.
Nick nearly felt dizzy when he realised how deeply his affection for Charlie went down, how the tendrils of it were wrapped around his ribs, his heart, his bones. He wasn’t in love with Charlie like Danny was with James, of course, because that would be ridiculous. It would be absolutely ridiculous and foolish of Nick to be in love with Charlie Spring after the short amount of time they had known each other. Nick felt hot and cold at the same time even thinking of that; thinking of how Charlie would react if Nick said something so clearly unreasonable, that he loved Charlie.
And yet…
Yet it was like Danny had said to Nick about his feelings for James. Nick felt like there were ghosts of Charlie that extended throughout his whole body. There’d be something he’d see in the house and it would stir his heart, thinking of how Charlie loved that colour. Or he’d hear a stupid joke on an Insta reel and warmth would press into his chest and wrap warmly around his ribs, the smile on his face uncontrollable as he thought of how Charlie would react. Nick felt stabs of worry like prickling needles when he thought of Charlie being sad or anxious or alone in London, or on the dark moments at night when Nick thought about what it had been like when Charlie was in a relationship with Ben. Nick felt Charlie’s presence so deeply in his life, like a cooling salve that had immersed into his very existence.
There was Charlie, who made Nick feel more alive than he had in a long time. He made Nick feel more Nick that he had in a long time, maybe ever. There was the feeling of the two of them, two figures wrapped in a closeness so immediate and tender that Nick couldn’t fully explain it. It was like - it was like the two of them were an anchor together, a weighted groundedness that made Nick feel endlessly secure. Then there was the feeling of being among the Badgers, this warm embrace of community, a vibrant explosion of fun and colour. The two of those things together had made Nick feel, truly and for once…content. He was anchored and alive. He was grounded and free. In those moments when Nick and Charlie had been together with the Badgers and his close friends, Nick had felt a warmth that he could not describe. It was like he was home - safe in who he was surrounded by, welcomed and loved, with someone he cared about beyond words by his side.
Nick’s throat ached as the full richness of the past weekend hit him. He’d had nearly everyone he cared about in one house, sometimes even in one room. Nick didn’t want to wait a full year for that to happen again, if New Year’s Eve even worked out the following year, what with him in Leeds back with the team, Seamus in Sale, and Charlie in…
His stomach lurched, thinking of a future that was…different. Not this. A future where Charlie lived in London and Nick was in Leeds. What would that even look like? Nick felt a sudden gripping panic in his chest, and he paused in the kitchen, bracing himself against the counter, his knuckles white as his fingers gripped the countertop. He breathed deeply, willing himself to stay calm, stay here, stay present. He was okay. Everything was okay. He was here now, Charlie was here now. Or at least Charlie would be back in a few days. They’d have more time together. Nick suppressed the sudden urge to track down Charlie’s new flat and ring the management company, asking the timeline for the repairs and hoping desperately that they’d stretch for weeks. Nick was so blissfully immersed at being ‘in like’ with Charlie that he hadn’t taken a moment to consider how that would look in the future.
Nick took a long, shuddering breath, letting the air fill his lungs and forcing it to travel down deeply to his belly. He was okay. This would be okay. Everything would be okay. Nick didn’t know how he knew that, or even if he truly believed it. Still, though, there was something in him that whispered firmly that it would be all right. There was some soothing lake, a body of cool stillness inside of him that he felt when he was with Charlie, despite any of the anxious buzzing that went on any other time. Nick focused on that feeling of anchored certainly, and breathed into it. He and Charlie would talk about this when the time came - whenever Charlie’s flat was done, whenever Nick went back to Leeds in June. They would talk. Nick could talk to Charlie about anything.
He huffed out a few loud, sharp breaths, settling himself back down. God, that from a reflection of how good he’d felt about the weekend?! Fuck, his brain could be a real asshole sometimes. Nick opened his phone and scanned the Badger’s schedule, recalling that there was a home match against Sale at the end of the month. Nick found the date - the last Saturday in January - and flipped to the booking app for Lavender Fields, his heart hammering in delighted joy when he saw that only one room was booked.
Nick immediately blocked the rest of the rooms as unavailable, mentally planning to call the neighbours that very day to see if they’d be willing to take care of the inn for that weekend with so few guests in town. He wanted that feeling back, of being with the person he cared about more than anything, with the people who made him feel at home. Nick had visions of him and Charlie on a trip together - a proper trip. In the car for hours, watching a match, out with the team, and - away. In a hotel. In a room that was just for them, the door shut snugly against the rest of the world. Nick’s insides squirmed pleasantly at that thought; the idea of going on a trip with Charlie. He decided to invite Charlie to join him for a trip to see the Badgers-Sale match, his stomach feeling a combined, odd sensation of queasy eagerness and nerves, hoping Charlie would say yes.
All that week, Nick continued to work hard. He baked, cooked, cleaned, did chores, painted a few small touches in some of the rooms, and responded to emails. He made recommendations, worked out, and laughed and joked with his mum and friends.
And every single day, there was Charlie. Nick eagerly grabbed his phone every morning, more often than not getting to look at a message he had received from Charlie after he went to bed and then getting to send a message for Charlie to wake up to. They talked about everything - exchanging small work annoyances, sending endless memes, and chatting about whatever had happened in their day. It was all of that - and flirting. Nick felt a shiver of giddiness every time Charlie messaged something with an undercurrent of tease in it, clutching his phone with two hands and staring into it like it might contain the truth of the universe. He was still so astonished and grateful that they got to talk like this to each other, that Nick got to talk like this to Charlie. He had been keeping his thoughts about Charlie tucked away in his head for so many weeks, trying to not let Charlie know how he felt at first, and then trying to not come on too strong. Letting them out still felt intimidating even when he worked up the bravery to do so - and his stomach felt tinged with nerves every time he did. There were also still some he still kept private, too. Yet it was always entirely worth it every time he was brave, Charlie always flirting back if he wasn’t the one to start it.
On Sunday night, Nick was stretching out after a long day of barn chores, baking, and getting the house turned over after the weekend guests. Charlie was due to return on Tuesday evening, and Nick could not fucking wait. It had been among the longest stretches without Charlie in the house, and Nick hated it. He wanted Charlie there with him, always. He was in pigeon pose opening up his hip flexor when he saw his phone light up, and he lunged for it, hovering on propped up elbows with a giant grin on his face.
C. Spring: omg i am so ready to be back at lf
C. Spring: it’s cold as fuck here
Nick smiled, his heart feeling fondly achy. He loved that Charlie wanted to come back. He loved that Charlie referred to Lavender Fields as LF, a small thing that reflected how ingrained and normalised the inn was now in his life. He loved…Charlie coming back in two days.
nnelson: Shit, I hate to break it to you springtime
nnelson: But LF does happen to also be cold too as it is in the same geographical general locale as London and not in fact in Fiji
C. Spring: i know, i put something about that on one of the comment cards
C. Spring: damn, Nelson, don’t you listen to guest feedback?
Nick chuckled to himself, trying to think of a flirty reply about being more receptive to guest feedback when it was delivered via mouth to mouth contact but doubting himself when another message came in from Charlie.
C. Spring: at least at LF there are multiple heat sources. fireplace, central heating…you
Nick’s stomach squeezed up with delight. He wanted to keep Charlie warm. He wanted to hold Charlie. He thought of the nagging worry that had been in his brain all week, the wonder of where Charlie would sleep, and where Nick would sleep. There were guests, now - a totally different thing from when it was them and his mates from the Badgers. What would it look like to have Nick stumbling out of a guest’s room? Would people think Nick just, like, had flings with guests? He could just imagine the Google reviews: Nice inn, but the owner seems to include shagging in the morning turndown service. Not unpleasant, but unexpected. Beyond that, though, he also didn’t know how to make it clear that all he wanted was to stay in the same bed as Charlie. They’d only spent two nights sleeping in the same bed, but that was enough for Nick to know that he never wanted to go back.
He could worry about the first problem - which bed - later. He wanted first to gauge, to understand if Charlie felt the same. He grinned, looking back at Charlie’s message. It was time for some class-A Nick Nelson flirting.
nnelson: I have been told I am an excellent human blanket
nnelson: At least that’s what all of the guests this week have told me
C. Spring: [gif: 30 Rock Tracy Jordan “Gasp!]
C. Spring: and i thought it was just me - i should have known you’re just blanketing people for 5 star ratings
nnelson: lol
nnelson: I have to say though…
nnelson: I’m afraid, Charlie.
Nick had already typed up and copied the text of the next message after the “I’m afraid” one, wanting the joke to land but not wanting Charlie to live in any real anxiety for even a second.
nnelson: I’m afraid of what the ghosts might do when you come back
nnelson: What if they’re still angry about the portrait breaking and they try to haunt me
C. Spring: omg i forgot we killed murdery marvin
C. Spring: though I blame you for that tbh
nnelson: Um excuse me sir, I’m not the curly-locked temptress who looked amazing that evening.
Charlie was typing. The dots disappeared. Typing. Gone. Nick furrowed his brow and kept going.
nnelson: Like, what if HSE comes round and they find out I am sleeping solo? When I know the risks of solitary slumber? Just saying, when you get back, I think we could consider sleeping in a pack.
C. Spring: that is a reasonable fear
C. Spring: both the haunting and the risk of an unmitigated safety inspection
C. Spring: i would never want to do anything that endangers sarah nelson’s perfect 5-star rating
nnelson: Uh, excuse me? I have been MAINTAINING Lavender Fields; what about my 5-star rating?!
C. Spring: eh
nnelson: LOL
C. Spring: i think you have a point, yes. maybe when I get back on tuesday we should sleep in the same bed. for safety.
nnelson: For safety.
nnelson: But what do I do in the meantime 😰
C. Spring: here, use this
C. Spring: [image: C.Spring.Headshot]
nnelson: LOL OMG is this your LinkedIn picture?
C. Spring: hahaha yes. tape it to your pillow and pretend it's me for a few days until i get back, i think portrait people can only see in two dimensions so they’ll easily be tricked
Nick felt a flush creep up his cheeks, even though he was alone. He had been hugging a pillow close to his chest every night, pretending it was Charlie in his arms, Charlie resting against his chest. It was almost painful how much Nick had missed Charlie the last few days. He realised with a start that he was still twisted into pigeon pose on one leg, entirely distracted by his conversation with Charlie. He switched legs and positioned his phone in front of him, staring at the screen and waiting for Charlie to send the message he was currently typing.
C. Spring: it’ll work. it’s foolproof. or you might lose your soul. It’s like a 50-50 tossup
Nick looked at that text and grinned. He loved Charlie’s menace energy; it was just another of the incredible, sparkling facets that made Charlie the rich, precious gem of a person that he was. He looked back at the message about taping a picture of Charlie to his pillow. He had been thinking of Charlie every night as he went to sleep, aching to pull the real Charlie against his body. So tell him that, Nelson. Nick swallowed. He was still afraid of being too much, he was afraid of coming on too strong.
On the other hand, though, he thought of the wash of relief, the cool water that had rushed through his whole body when Charlie said he liked Nick, too. It felt so good to know what Charlie was thinking, to know a little bit about how Charlie felt about Nick. If it felt that good for Nick to know what Charlie was thinking, he had to imagine it felt the same for Charlie. He took a breath. He could be flirty, like they’ve been so far - playful and bantering. He could also be flirty and a little more vulnerable, a little more honest. Open-heartedly flirty. Nick’s abdomen tightened as he typed out two messages in quick succession, hitting send before he could second-guess himself.
nnelson: I miss snuggling you at night
nnelson: I miss kissing you
He could feel his breath, shallow in his chest. Nick saw Charlie typing, then the dots disappeared. There was an agonising wait before Charlie was typing again, a minute that felt like a lifetime. Before Nick could drive himself mad with self-doubt, the message from Charlie flashed on the screen.
C. Spring: i do too
C. Spring: i miss waking up with you
Nick sagged in relief. Charlie’s messages were less than ten words in total, but the comfort those ten words brought Nick was unquantifiable. Charlie missed him, too. Charlie wasn’t just being bantery and flirty - he missed Nick. Nick took a breath and then let himself type what he wanted.
nnelson: I miss your laugh
It was barely a second before Charlie responded.
C. Spring: i miss your hugs
nnelson: I miss your hands
C. Spring: I miss your…buns
C. Spring: 😅
Nick couldn’t stop the grin from sliding across his whole face. He could feel the heat in his neck as he typed out the next message.
nnelson: You don’t even know how sweet these buns are yet 😘
Before he could panic that he’d gone too far, there was an immediate reply from Charlie.
C. Spring: no, i don’t
C. Spring: not yet
C. Spring: …
C. Spring: [Katherine Hahn ‘wink’.gif]
Nick flushed from his neck, the warmth spreading around his torso. They were still talking a bit obliquely, but they were talking about…well, stuff. The idea of seeing each other’s bodies more, exploring more. Nick had a momentary surge of anxiety, wondering if he was ready for more, but the thought felt like it was shoved into his head, not truly one of his own.
Comphet, he remembered reading about. The compulsive, required heterosexuality that is assumed and forced on people. He had read that, and how it was such an underline in so many bisexual awakening stories. People just…hadn’t known that “not straight” was an option for them.
Nick had read about that, and had also read about how repressed any affection between men was, straight or otherwise. And Nick had felt that before - not internally, but had sensed the overall, cultural discomfort with men being intimate with each other, with friendships or lovers. Even hugs between mates weren’t universal, and then there was the other side of male affection, between men who had feelings for each other.
Nick knew that the thought in his head wasn’t his and was fabricated by what he’d heard over thirty-one years; the idea that doing things - sexual things - with other men was wrong or dirty or scandalous. Nick frowned, alone in his living room. He didn’t feel like that at all. Everything with Charlie felt so right - all of it. He wanted more with Charlie, not less. He wanted more intimacy, more exploration, more rawness, more rushing hearts and imperfect and beautiful touching of each other. He wanted more. Nick remembered with a start that it was his turn to reply, and he hastened to start typing, wondering how Charlie felt about sending those messages, wondering if he felt the same nerves about sending messages like this the way Nick still did.
nnelson: God, I cannot wait to see you
nnelson: Do you think if I go on a run tomorrow and, like, go really fast and push my feet really hard I can make the planet spin faster and then you’ll be here sooner?
C. Spring: lol yes, that is one hundred percent scientifically sound yes. and i once edited a queer scifi novel so i definitely know what i’m talking about
nnelson: I am going to set the world’s first sub-two minute mile record.
C. Spring: lol
C. Spring: can’t wait to see you too
C. Spring: it’s past your bedtime old man
nnelson: LOL, you dick. I hate to admit that I was just literally typing that I was going to go to bed soon.
C. Spring: you don’t want to miss antiques roadshow tonight, i heard there’s a vase that is to die for
nnelson: Okay wow
nnelson: I’ll be the one laughing when I inevitably find a Matisse in the barn and make bank on AR
nnelson: (that’s a cooler, shorter way to say Antiques Roadshow for us in the know)
C. Spring: lol omg Nick
C. Spring: okay, go to bed
C. Spring: miss you
Nick’s heart swelled with fond affection and a soul-deep longing to see Charlie. He looked at those words, seven letters that meant the world to him.
nnelson: I miss you, too ❤️
He smiled as he clicked off his screen and slowly got up, making his way towards bed. Nick pulled the pillow close to his chest, smiling as he drifted away and mentally crossing off one of the last two sleeps before Charlie came home.
-
Nick was a giddy mess on Tuesday afternoon. He did every chore that he could think of and then scrolled every Insta post that he could stand, each time expecting that hours would have passed, only to find that it had been four minutes. He scowled at the time on his phone, offended that it would ooze by so slowly. Amy and the Badgers and them would all still be at training, so they were out as a way to pass the time. Nick brightened as he remembered what time it was in the States, figuring that it might be a great time to chat with his mum.
He pulled up FaceTime and tapped her contact, grinning when she picked up after just a few rings.
“Oh, Nick, my darling,” she said warmly, smiling at him. “I’m so glad to hear from you!”
Nick couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. It felt like it had been there - mostly at least - for the last few days. “I’m glad I caught you! You’re just a woman of the world, forgetting all about your long-lost son…” He sighed forlornly, looking off out the window and wringing his hands together at his breastbone.
Sarah laughed. “So says the globe-travelling former professional athlete!”
Nick grinned. “Okay, fair. How’s New York?”
“It’s been a lot, honestly. I love visiting here but I don’t think I need to live here.”
Nick agreed. He loved the time he’d spent in New York City - he loved the vibrancy, the richness, and the energy of the city, but he thought Leeds and Lavender Fields were more his style. Bovine, not boroughs. “I get that!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t stop himself from ending nearly every sentence in an exclamation mark, and of course his mum picked up on it.
She smiled at him through the screen, and he could tell she was sitting on her bed in a hotel room. “You’re very smiley.”
“Am I?” asked Nick through the silly grin he knew was on his face. “I guess I just - well, Charlie’s coming back in a few hours. He’s been gone for a while.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows, a smile sliding across her face, though she seemed to control it. “Oh? And how are things with Charlie? Is his flat still being repaired?”
Nick couldn’t fight the glee that felt like it was going to burst through his chest. He felt the heat of joy rising up through his neck, colouring his ears. “Mum,” he said, not sure exactly what he was going to say. “Charlie and I um, we’re…” God, he felt very Year Ten right now. “Me and Charlie, we…”
Sarah was pressing her lips together and drew her hands together to her heart. “Oh, my darling. Did you kiss?”
Nick baulked. “Woah, Mum!”
Sarah laughed. “I’m sorry, I know, I’m your mum, and I shouldn’t pry. But I thought if you had I could make it easier and-”
“We did,” Nick burst out. “We did kiss.”
Sarah laughed aloud in delight and Nick blushed furiously, feeling his temperature shoot up by a thousand degrees. “Oh, Nicky,” she cooed, smiling at him brilliantly through the screen. “And how do you feel? After that?”
Nick gave a half a laugh. “I feel…” he trailed off, thinking of what he had been pondering earlier - about how deeply Charlie was intertwined with his soul. He thought briefly of Danny and the same words he had used with Danny the first time they spoke about Charlie came to mind again. “I am so head over heels for him, mum,” Nick confessed, wanting to say it out loud again, now that Charlie was real, that their feelings for each other were real.
He could see the warmth radiating from her even through the pixelated image. “Nick, my love,” said his mum, looking at him with fondness that made Nick’s chest ache. “That’s so…” She paused, her eyes welling up. “That’s…” she stopped talking, pressing her hand to her lips, her mouth quivering.
“Mum?” Nick asked, his voice soft and eyebrows furrowed together. “Is this happy? Sad? Are you all right?”
She waved him off as though they were in the same room. “Yes, yes, I’m just being silly,” she said, pulling a tissue from the bedside table and dabbing at her eyes. “I’m just so happy for you. I am so, so happy for you. And proud of you, too, darling. You’ve realised some things about yourself and now you’re living those things. That can be incredibly scary and you’ve just jumped in headfirst.” She beamed at him and Nick smiled back at her, his heart still hurting, it was so filled with love. “And I just…” Sarah broke off, taking a quivery breath. “I wish I was there,” she said, her voice quiet. “I miss you. I miss the girls. I wish I could see you and Charlie getting to know each other. I miss the house. I miss the town!”
“Then come home,” Nick said immediately. He had picked up from their calls that Sarah was having a lovely time, but that it was tinged in waves of homesickness. Nick had never been away from home for so long except at Lavender Fields, which felt like another home. Still, during early seasons on the road, he had felt the pang of wanting to be settled, wanting to be around the things and people that made him feel welcome and known and loved. He reckoned Sarah had been struggling with the same thing, and suspected that she had tried to mostly keep this from him. Nick thought she might have some misplaced guilt around Nick paying and that she needed to keep a stiff upper lip, even if unhappy. “Come home, mum.”
Sarah sniffled and gave a weak laugh. “With you and Charlie there? Certainly not. There’s something precious about new love growing, and I will not step on that.”
Nick ignored the way his heart stuttered at the word love. “Mum,” he said firmly. “First of all - it’s your house! Also - remember how it’s massive? There’s an entire apartment - your apartment - that you could be in. And I could pay for one of the guest rooms until June-”
“Nicholas Luke Nelson, you are not paying to stay-”
“All I care about is you being happy, mum,” said Nick. “I want you to be happy, and if you’re happiest at home come home.”
“I…”
“You can always come home, mum,” said Nick softly. It would certainly add a layer of complexity for Sarah to come back and for he and Charlie to still be there, but they could figure it out. Easily.
When his mum spoke again, her voice was quiet, but with a tinge of hope in it. “Well - I have plans at least until February,” she said.
“Then I cannot wait to see you in February,” said Nick firmly.
“My darling boy,” said Sarah quietly, her face looking the way it did before she would reach out a hand to stroke Nick’s hair away from his face when he was younger. “I love you.”
“I love you too, mum,” said Nick.
Sarah took a deep breath, laughing slightly even as she brushed away the last of her tears. “So,” she said, smiling more broadly now. “Tell me about Charlie.”
And Nick did.
-
Nick and his mum spoke for nearly an hour, and Nick let himself just gush over Charlie. He told Sarah how kind and funny Charlie was, and how Charlie accepted everything about who Nick was (even though he pretended to not actually accept the pun part). He told her about how much fun they had and how Charlie made Nick feel so safe and cared for and cared about. Sarah laughed along with the stories Nick told about that previous weekend, Sarah Nelson and Danny Turner being old friends from the Badgers days. Nick of course edited out some details about Charlie and what happened between them, though Sarah came as close to a shriek as Nick had ever heard her when he confirmed that they had indeed kissed.
They had hung up with promises to talk through more of the details about the inn, though Nick wasn’t too worried about that. There were still four weeks minimum before Sarah would be back, and it sounded like she was planning on a few local trips during the spring as well, so she’d be in and out and not truly working until June. Nick had insisted on that part.
By the time they were done, Nick was pleased to find that it was about time to start getting ready to make both dinner and a welcome treat for Charlie. He made the cranberry bars again since Charlie had missed them the first time, and then set about making a pasta dish. He fried chicken sausage with garlic and onion, then stirred in spicy tomatoes and some cream cheese, adding asparagus, and peas. He set that to simmer as he boiled water - he’d put the pasta on once Charlie had actually arrived.
It seemed like ages before Charlie’s car was turning up the drive, and Nick shot out the door to wait in the car park, arms crossed and bouncing on his toes as Charlie pulled it. Charlie had barely put the car in park before he was spilling out of the car, half-helped, half-pulled by Nick, both of them laughing.
Nick wrapped himself around Charlie, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of Charlie’s coat. He was so glad that Charlie was here, though he hated the layers of clothing between them. Nick wanted to feel Charlie against him - he wanted to feel the press of Charlie’s chest on his, feel the trace of Charlie’s fingertips across his breastbone, travelling across his clavicle and up his neck. Nick and Charlie held each other for a long moment before drawing back so they could kiss. Nick tilted his head and Charlie did too, separating only enough to manoeuvre their mouth. They crashed together, both of them clutching against each other’s coats, neither one seeming to get the grip and closeness that they desired.
“I missed you,” said Nick, once their mouths had left each other’s. They were still in the cold, but Nick felt like there was a pleasant fire burning in his chest. The words spilled out from him, free and unbidden, and Nick didn’t care. “I missed you being here every day.”
There was a pause before Charlie answered, and when he did, his voice was quiet, like he didn’t want to scare Nick with it. “I…I missed you too.”
“Yeah?” murmured Nick, not really knowing what he was saying, gently rocking Charlie back and forth.
“Yeah,” agreed Charlie. He snuggled deeper again Nick and Nick sighed happily before he felt Charlie’s body quivering, shaking with the cold.
“Fuck, sorry, inside!” said Nick. “Are you hungry? I made food…” He grabbed Charlie’s bag and Charlie’s hand and they went inside, Nick flinging aside the bag and seizing Charlie by the lapels of the coat again. Charlie responded by wrapping his arms around Nick, and Nick pulled him close, their lips meeting again. They separated and tapped their foreheads together, noses bumping.
“Hi,” they both said at nearly the same time, the word sounding almost like its own echo. Nick laughed and Charlie did, too.
“It’s so good to be h-” Charlie blinked, brows furrowing, then his face evened out. He reached out to smooth away a piece of Nick’s hair, and Nick melted to have that touch back. “It’s so good to be here again.”
“I’m so glad you are here again,” agreed Nick. Then he glanced over at the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I made a pasta and then I made a dessert and-”
Charlie laughed softly and silenced Nick with a gentle kiss. It was all the nourishment that Nick needed, food science be damned. “I’ll have a little,” he said, drawing back and giving Nick a small smile.
Nick grinned and dished them out some pasta, then cut cranberry bars once they were done. Charlie ate some, though he seemed like he wasn’t as hungry as Nick. Nick ended up eating Charlie’s leftovers as well as his own, protesting that he was a growing boy when Charlie giggled, calling him the human version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
Charlie seemed to really enjoy the cranberry bar, and Nick desperately enjoyed the noises that Charlie was making, little soft sounds of pleasure that Nick wanted to be causing, not some goddamn bog berries. They carried their dishes to the kitchen and Charlie helped Nick load them into the dishwasher. Nick wasn’t sure how Charlie ended up on the counter, his legs wrapped around Nick’s waist. It might have been possible that Nick had in fact lifted him up there, but it couldn’t have been proven in a court of law. Nick’s heart hammered as they kissed each other passionately, their hips grinding together as best they could with the physics of the situation. There were guests in the house and this was dangerous and naughty and good and Nick didn’t want to stop. The creak of a board upstairs finally brought him to his senses, and he pulled away, Charlie’s legs still locked together behind his back.
“Do you…” Nick took a breath, riled up and nearly mad with passion. “Would you still like to share a bed? With me?” he clarified.
Charlie laughed, loud and bright. “Yes, you absolute numpty. I very much want to share a bed with you.” He leaned closer, his lips so close to Nick’s ear that Nick could feel them on the tiny hairs on his earlobe. “I want to share a lot with you.”
Nick inhaled sharply, every sense tingling. “Do you - my room? Your room?”
Charlie pulled back slightly, and Nick hated it. “Is…huh. There are guests here, yeah?”
“Yeah,” breathed Nick, his brain addled when Charlie ran his fingers though Nick’s hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, half in pleasure, half in semi-embarrassment. “I, uh - I moved the mattress in my room to the basement and bought a new one,” he confessed. “So it feels like only my room. Not my mum’s.”
Charlie paused, seeming confused, then laughed. “Oh, god,” he said, shaking his head and leaning it against Nick’s. “I wouldn’t have even…”
Nick gasped. “Oh god, did I make it weird by even telling you I did that? Were you not thinking about it as my mum’s room and I just made you do that now? Oh god, I am the unsexiest innkeeper alive!”
Charlie laughed again, leaning his head back. “No, you are among the top 400 sexiest innkeepers in England,” he promised. “Well,” he said, tilting his head, pretending to consider. “Maybe in the south of England, at least.”
Nick chuckled and nibbled down Charlie’s neck, making him arch and groan against Nick. “Well, then. My room is closer.” He moved his lips to the centre of Charlie’s neck, pulling on the skin with light suction. “And more private.”
“I want that,” said Charlie, fingers pulling at the neckline of Nick’s jumper. He let out a sound of surprise when Nick lifted him clear off the counter, Nick feeling warm and happy as he wrapped his forearms around Charlie’s back and bum to carry him through the dining room. Thankfully, it was a short trip through the doorway that led to Nick’s flat and the tiny hallway to the main bedroom. God, he loved the feel of Charlie’s body in his arms. He dropped Charlie on the bed, Charlie laughing, and then went back to lock the door between the kitchen and the flat, then closed and locked the door to the bedroom for good measure, too.
“No ghosties in here,” said Nick solemnly.
“Good call,” said Charlie, smirking. “Their lack of corporeal form will definitely be hindered by a door lock.”
“Two door locks,” Nick corrected.
“Ah. My mistake.”
There was a moment where they grinned at each other, Nick standing above the bed and Charlie laying on it. Then they magnetised, Nick going towards the bed and slowly crawling towards Charlie. Charlie’s eyes followed his movements the whole time, and eventually Nick was hovering over Charlie, knees on either side of his hips, hands on either side of his shoulders. Nick lowered himself down to kiss Charlie and melted at the soft moan that Charlie let out, his back arching up off the bed in an attempt to get more contact with Nick.
Nick let his body partially rest on top of Charlie, taking care that his entire weight wasn’t crushing him. They kissed, hands moving and searching, running along each other’s sides, arms, torsos. Nick didn’t know how long they had been locked in an embrace when Charlie let out a little whine, pulling at Nick’s jumper.
“This,” said Charlie plaintively. “Will you take this off?”
“Yeah,” breathed Nick, pulling off his jumper. He hovered over Charlie again and slid his hand under Charlie’s long-sleeved henley, fingers grazing the taut muscles and skin underneath. “Can I…?” He looked at Charlie, who nodded, his eyebrows slightly drawn together. Charlie raised his arms and Nick helped him get the shirt the rest of the way off, revealing his torso to Nick for the first time. Charlie was slender ropes of muscle. The light drifting in from the window painted his abdomen in soft ripples of shadow. Nick moaned softly and immediately leaned down to kiss the dips of muscle along Charlie’s stomach, dragging his lips up Charlie’s torso and eventually against his pecs. Charlie’s body was stiff to start and Nick began to pull away, wanting to check in, but Charlie pulled Nick’s head back towards his body and relaxed a little as Nick travelled all over his chest with his mouth and fingers.
Charlie was running his fingers up and down Nick’s torso, making Nick shiver. Nick could feel his own arms quivering as he stayed aloft over Charlie, a combination of the effort and the intense lust and affection for Charlie coursing through his body. He lowered himself again so they could kiss, and it quickly grew heated once more. After a few minutes or an hour or a decade, Nick pulled back, heat rising in his stomach as he looked at Charlie’s kiss-swollen mouth, knowing his was in the same shape. He closed his eyes and dropped his head as Charlie started in on his neck again, his fingers traversing Nick’s back and trailing down his sides, making Nick shiver. Charlie’s hands started to drift then, his fingers lightly feathering towards the waistline of Nick’s joggers. Nick gasped when Charlie’s fingers toyed along the band of the joggers, his abdomen tightening in eager anticipation.
Charlie looked at Nick, meeting his eyes. “Can I…?” He swallowed and licked his lips. Nick watched his tongue, lusting and melting at the pink, soft movement. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes,” said Nick, nodding, his core pulling in along his spine. He sat up and then shifted to lay beside Charlie, resting half on his hip. Then he opened his eyes suddenly, remembering. “Ah, fuck,” he said, dropping his head back. “I, uh - all I have on are the joggers.” Charlie’s eyes flickered to Nick’s waistline, then back up. “And nothing underneath.”
Charlie’s eyes got darker, a flash of something primal and wanting. “That’s…” he paused. “That’s definitely okay with me. If it’s okay with you.”
“It’s okay with me,” said Nick, his chest warm, all of his cells keening in nervous excitement. “Do you…would you feel comfortable taking yours off, too? Trousers and pants, or just trousers - or nothing, too, you don’t have to take off anything.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie in a quiet voice. “I do feel…” He trailed off and the last word came out a little stronger, a little clearer. “...Comfortable.”
They looked at each other and then slowly slid out of their clothing. In the quiet, Nick could hear the rustle of the fabric and he closed his eyes, focusing on grounding himself before letting himself have the treat of looking at Charlie. He turned over and his breath caught in his throat.
Charlie was next to him and fully nude, laying with one arm tucked under the pillow that cradled his head. He was on his back, but his face was turned to Nick. Nick thought he saw something - worry, nerves - in Charlie’s eyes before his face smoothed over again. Nick pressed himself up before he could even think about it and slid closer to Charlie, pressing a tremulous hand on Charlie’s side, Charlie breathing in sharply when Nick touched him.
“Hey,” said Nick, looking at Charlie’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie in a whisper back. “Are you?”
Nick smiled; he couldn’t help it. Charlie Spring was laying in his bed, naked. He was possibly the most “okay” he had ever been. “Uh, yeah,” he replied, grinning. “You? In bed with me, starkers? Yeah, I’m okay.” He moved his hand up Charlie’s side, revelling in how gorgeous Charlie’s skin was, warm under his touch. Nick slid his hand down to Charlie’s hip, feeling the smooth skin there. Charlie was utterly stunning. He had a runner’s body; lean, strong muscles. His skin was olive except the for his thighs and groin, where it was such a soft white that Nick felt tenderness rise in his chest. Charlie was showing himself to Nick, all of himself, and Nick felt the pang of deep affection from Charlie’s vulnerability. Both of them were semi-hard, and Nick’s eyes trailed down to look at Charlie - not wanting to stare, but wanting to see the part of this man that had pressed against him last week, made him feel such pleasure.
Charlie was perfect. Nick marvelled for a moment but didn’t let himself touch, not yet, and not without asking. He shifted down to graze Charlie’s thigh, running his thumb against the long, smooth muscles there. All the while Charlie was watching him, his eyes following Nick’s every move like Nick might just up and bolt. Nick ran his hand all the way down one of Charlie’s calves, squeezing the back of his leg before shifting up so their heads were in line with each other again, Charlie staring at Nick’s face, his eyes glittering.
Nick shook his head softly and smiled at Charlie, running his fingers through Charlie’s curls. “God, Charlie,” he said, splaying his fingers wide so that his hand was touching as much of Charlie’s head as he could, maximising the contact. Nick felt open, free. He had never felt so comfortable with someone he was in bed with, so intimately connected like this. “You are…” he let the tremulous smile break through. “You are so beautiful, Charlie.”
Charlie’s eyebrows drew together and up, making him look almost supplicating. “What?” he said, with a nervous half-laugh.
“You’re so beautiful, Charlie,” Nick repeated. “You. Everything about you. You are gorgeous. I forgot how gorgeous your face was until I got to see it again, and your body…” The words were rushing out of him, finally freed. “You are absolutely beautiful. Inside and out. All of you.”
There was a pause as Charlie opened his mouth to respond. As Nick watched, Charlie’s eyes glimmered and then Nick realised to his horror that they were welling up with tears. Nick immediately panicked.
“Oh my god, Charlie - I’m…I’m so sorry. Was that too much? Am I-”
“No,” said Charlie throatily, bringing both hands to his face to push away the tears and groaning. He pulled his hands away and looked at Nick, tears still dropping down. “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, I’m ruining this, you’re here and we’re together and I had so many things I wanted and you’re so fucking hot right now and I’m just ruining everything and…”
“Hey,” said Nick, moving so he could pull Charlie against his chest. Charlie buried his face in Nick’s pecs, their bodies fitting together perfectly, skin meeting skin. He whispered against Charlie’s ear. “You’re not ruining anything. I just - I’m so sorry, was it what I said?”
“No,” said Charlie, pulling back a little but staying close to Nick, avoiding eye contact. “And yes?” He gave a watery-sounding half-laugh again. “It’s nothing.” Nick squeezed Charlie on the shoulder and Charlie sniffed. “It’s not…okay. I mean…you’re…” he trailed off, like he was searching for words. “You’re not real, Nick. You can’t be real.” Nick stayed quiet, not knowing what Charlie meant, but wanting to give him space to find the words. He rubbed Charlie’s back soothingly to show that he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. “You’re so perfect. You are this perfect, kind, incredibly attractive man, and I’m just… me.” Nick’s heart broke on that word and he fought the urge to tell Charlie how wrong he was. “I’m annoying and clingy and not good enough for you and I ended up here almost by accident and you’re so fucking incredible. And we’re finally alone and naked and I’m crying because you complimented me. You’re, like, perfect, and I’m ruining it!”
Nick laughed incredulously. “Charlie!’ he said, shaking his head. “There’s…god, there’s so much wrong with me. I’m not perfect at all. There are so many things that…” He stopped, not wanting to make this about him. “And I wish I could make you see you how I do,” Nick said, sighing and wrapping his arms more tightly around Charlie. “I wish you could see how fucking amazing you are. How perfect you are. Until I do…” he kissed Charlie’s hair. “Well - I’ll just say this, then. I care about you so much, and I’m terrified of fucking anything up with you. Terrified,” Nick repeated. “And clearly something’s coming up right now. Can we…can we talk about it?”
Charlie gave a quiet, rueful laugh. “God, you’re not real, Nick,” he said again. He drew back a little so he could look at Nick and Nick raised his hand to trace the line of Charlie’s lips with his forefinger, softly. “You…” he sighed. “You saying that I’m…” Charlie tried again, the words seeming like a struggle. “I’ve never been called that before.”
Nick touched Charlie’s cheek, the skin soft and warm under his fingers. “Beautiful?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his voice rough and on the edge of tears. Nick pulled him close again. “I’ve…” he took a deep breath. “I’ve had some history. With my body.”
Their legs were slotted against one another as they held each other. Their bodies were almost entirely pressed close, skin heating skin. It was intensely intimate, not erotic, and it was exactly what it was supposed to be in that moment.
“Yeah?” said Nick. “I - you…you can tell me, Charlie. I want you to tell me.” He felt Charlie burrow closer in his arms, Charlie’s fingers pressing against the skin of Nick’s back. He lowered his voice and spoke against Charlie’s head. “I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing you can say that would make me want to not stay here. With you. Every single thing I know about you is something I appreciate about you. Because it’s you, Charlie.” Nick said that last part quietly against Charlie’s neck.
Charlie took in a long, shuddering breath, clearly composing himself. He started talking, and Nick learned so much about Charlie as he did. He learned about Charlie’s history as a teenager, when he struggled with eating. Nick learned that Charlie had good stretches and bad ones when he was younger, one of them resulting in Charlie seeking in-patient treatment with the help of his sister and Elle, who had been in his life since childhood. He learned about how Charlie had been treated by other men, sometimes fine, and then sometimes in ways that made Nick breathe shakily through his nose, willing himself to stay calm and let the anger dissipate. Nick learned so much, but he centrally learned one thing.
Nick learned how brave Charlie was. He learned how strong, resilient, sensitive, and introspective Charlie was. In what Charlie shared, Nick heard it all through the lens of someone who had experienced hardships and survived. Beyond surviving, Charlie had become a kind, funny, thoughtful, wonderful human. When Nick told him that - all of that - Charlie had cried quietly, both of them holding each other, tears slipping from Nick’s eyes as well as he thought of what Charlie had gone through.
There was so much more Nick knew that they wanted to do, to explore and touch and try. But now, there was just vulnerability, softness, and intimacy. That was all Nick wanted at this moment. There would be time for all of that later. Right now, they were experiencing each other, their whole selves - with past and present wrapped up into the complex packages that they were. Nick truly couldn’t wait for more - more physicality, more intimacy, more learning. But this more of Charlie was just as beautiful, if not more so. Nick was getting to know more of who Charlie was, the experiences that had helped shape him into who he was today - and all sides of those experiences. Nick’s throat ached with the vulnerability Charlie was willing to show him, and he felt so chosen that Charlie would share that with him.
Their bodies drawn together, they stayed up talking for hours - sometimes laughing, sometimes holding back tears again. Charlie told Nick more about his teenage years and twenties, the good and the bad. Nick told Charlie about his brother and dad, and how alone Nick had felt for so much of his life. Just before drifting off to sleep, Nick resettled his head against Charlie’s chest, rubbing his cheek against the smooth skin. He was endlessly grateful for this man - and all parts of this man. There’d be more to explore tomorrow, or the next night, or the next. For now, there was this. Two people who were trusting each other with their hearts, warm and safe in each other’s arms. Two people free to bare everything to each other, trusting the other with every part of themselves. Two people together.
Notes:
Me: Woooo, it's smut time, boys! You're finally here! We did it!
N&C: No, we want to talk about our feelings now.
Me: But...you're, like, full-on naked.
N&C: Yeah. We're just going to cuddle with our dangly parts out for a little, mkay?
Me: ...Are you serious?
C: Don't worry, we'll make up for it soon.
Me: What?
N: WHAT.
C: What?
N: 😅I swear, these two. More to, ahem, come in future chapters.
Baked Oatmeal Cranberry Bars
This recipe can be made gluten, dairy, and nut-free if needed.
3 c oats (gluten free if needed)
3 Tbsp raw unsalted sunflower seeds
2 Tbsp flax meal
1 ½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp salt
½ c sunflower seed butter
½ c maple syrup
½ c unsweetened applesauce
½ c dairy or nondairy milk of choice
1 tsp vanilla
1 c dried cranberries (other dried berries work, too - but the tartness of cranberries in these bars is great!)Line an 8 inch by 8 inch baking pan with parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Mix the oats, sunflower seeds, flax meal, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt in a medium bowl.
In a large bowl or standing mixer, combine the sunflower seed butter and maple syrup until smooth. Whisk in the applesauce, milk, and vanilla. Add the dry ingredients into the wet, mixing until fully combined. Stir in the dried cranberries. Spoon the mixture into the prepared pan and use the bottom of a spatula to press it all level and smooth.
Bake for 35 to 40 minutes until the top is beginning to brown. Allow the bars to cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then lift out the parchment paper. Let the bars cool fully before cutting.
Chapter 23: Embers
Summary:
Last Time: Charlie returns after too long away from Lavender Fields, and the boys get emotionally closer.
This Time: Now that the emotions are closer, time to get some other things closer, too. Heh. Smut.
Notes:
I’ve been on vacation this week with my family and am posting from my phone, so my ability to embed links is limited! Waveofyou, you magical human. I hope you see yourself as others see you - creative, strong, loving, and confident. Narlie Waves and The Write-Up continue to touch my heart. I adore you, friend. And NSB! As You Are has such a wonderful, moving, big-in-all-emotional ways chapter coming. That work is like NSB - nuanced and filled with love.
There is smut in this chapter, FYI!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick didn’t think he would ever get used to waking up next to Charlie. He never wanted to get used to waking up with Charlie - he wanted it to always be as wonderful as it was now, a slow-creeping realisation that this was real and Charlie was in the same bed as him. The first thing Nick felt that morning was warmth; the warmth of Charlie’s skin against his arm. Nick was on his back and Charlie was still asleep, turned on his side and facing Nick. Charlie’s arms were tucked against him and Nick had the image of a kitten with its paws curled, and he smiled. Charlie was adorable, and he was beautiful, and he was gorgeous, and sexy, and cute. Nick had no idea one person could be all of those things, but Charlie somehow was.
Nick stretched long in bed and then turned so he was facing Charlie, running his top hand along Charlie’s arm. Charlie murmured softly and Nick moved his hand, toying with the velvety hairs near the base of Charlie’s neck. Charlie’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at Nick, the expression fuzzy for a moment until his eyes cleared and a soft smile spread across his face.
“Morning,” said Charlie sleepily, closing his eyes again with the smile still on his lips.
Nick pressed closer and kissed him, feeling Charlie’s smile widen under his lips before returning the kiss. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?”
“Arse-early o’clock,” said Nick, pulling Charlie into his chest.
“Are we in the fives or the sixes?”
“Fives. Early fives.”
“Homophobic.”
“I agree.” Nick sighed. “I have to get up and do the chores.”
“No,” said Charlie, sleep-grumpy. “No chores. Stay with me.”
“What would the guests eat then?”
“Cake,” murmured Charlie. “Let them eat cake.”
Nick laughed lightly. “And the cows?”
“You’re telling me cows wouldn’t like cake, too?”
Nick chuckled. Charlie turned on his other side so that they were pressed together, Charlie’s back to Nick’s chest. Nick was entirely aware that he - all of him - was glued to Charlie, nothing between their skin. Neither of them had put anything on after they got undressed last night. Nick still couldn’t wait to do more with Charlie, but last night was perfect in what it had turned out to be. Their conversation at times was difficult and emotional and vulnerable, but Nick had a deep feeling that last night was exactly what it was supposed to be. He had gotten the sense even just in the last few months that it took a bit for Charlie to open up. Nick supposed that was both one of Charlie’s inherent traits, and one that had been cruelly reinforced over and over again from experiences in his life.
They hadn’t spoken about B. Hope last night - or much about Nick’s romantic history either - but Nick knew that the shadow of that palaeolithic-eating wanker lurked in Charlie’s mind. From the bits that Charlie mentioned when Ben had shown up at Lavender Fields, Ben constantly told Charlie he was annoying, needy, too anxious, and too much. Too much. Those words ate at Nick, sharp teeth on tenderness. Nick knew how hurtful it was to be called too much, and he knew what it felt like to swallow down feelings, swallow down hurt, ignore the pain of rejection, all to avoid that label. It was easier to keep things in than be punished for letting them out, told to suck it up, be quiet, accept what was given. Even though Nick and Charlie hadn’t spoken about that topic specifically, they had spoken about so many other things, so many things that were linked. They’d held each other and laughed and teared up, and Nick remembered the feeling of absolute safety right before he’d fallen asleep. They could talk. They could talk about anything.
With that, Nick pulled his mind back from where it threatened to keep spinning, breathing deeply to bring himself back to his body. He took several deep inhales, trying to feel all the way down to his feet. He could sense himself returning into his body, and as he did, he felt… more than that. Nick shifted a little to edge away from Charlie, who only wriggled backwards to keep their bodies together.
Nick swallowed and licked his lips before trying to shift again. “I - sorry. I just… I can feel you against me, it’s making me…” He let the words disappear into the cloud of a heavy exhale.
Charlie’s voice was low, his response immediate. “I don’t…I’m not bothered,” he said. Then he twisted his body around and Nick inhaled sharply, feeling Charlie against himself. “At all.”
Nick groaned, an edge of frustration in his voice. “I can’t fucking believe I have to get up now. That’s not the ‘up’ I want to be at the moment.”
“Me neither,” whispered Charlie with a throaty chuckle, tangling his fingers in Nick’s hair.
Nick whined. “You aren’t playing fair.”
Charlie gave him a grin. Nick loved seeing how much more settled his eyes were this morning, none of the skittishness he had seen in them the night before when they started talking. Charlie seemed like he felt more comfortable in his body with Nick, too, and Nick couldn’t express how happy that made him. “Maybe after I’m done with work we can, uh…” He looked away and then looked at Nick again. “Reconnect?”
“Great,” replied Nick. “When does your workday end, 8:04 am? I can be done with the chores by 8:04. I’ll order a cake from Tesco and let the guests feed themselves; that really was an excellent suggestion.”
Charlie laughed and a rush of pleasure at the sound of it combined with the heady physical pleasure in Nick’s body. “Plus or minus like nine hours.”
Nick sighed and kissed Charlie, long and slow, trying to put promise behind it. “You go back to sleep now,” he said softly. Charlie’s eyes closed and Nick pressed a gentle kiss to each eyelid. “See you at breakfast?”
“I’ll help,” Charlie said sleepily. “I have to earn my three percent friends and family discount.”
Nick smiled as he got up, trying to be quiet as he dressed. Charlie would be able to leave through the hallway and go up the flat’s stairs to go to the second story. From there, he could just slip through the hallway door and go back to his own room when he was ready. Nick took a moment to silently thank whomever had designed the flat to give the owner some privacy, grateful that their efforts would allow two desperately-in-like idiots to sneak around without too many questions.
Nick kissed Charlie’s forehead once more before he finally dragged himself out of the room, heading to the barn to take care of the cows. He completed his other chores and got back to the house by seven. The stupid grin had been glued on his face since getting out of bed, and it only grew when he took off his boots and walked into the kitchen, discovering that the coffee and tea were already made. Charlie had left a note on the counter.
Went for a run - your tea is in your mug, old man
See you in a bit
♥️
Nick stared at the note for longer than he meant to, his eyes drifting over Charlie’s lovely handwriting. He loved the way that Charlie formed his “r”s, loved the way Charlie drew the tail on the letter g. His eyes lingered on the heart, the symbol feeling like it meant more when it was hand-drawn versus when Charlie sent over text. God, Nick was entirely gone for Charlie.
Nick preheated the oven and dashed back to his room for a quick shower. He was whisking the eggs for the caprese breakfast casserole when Charlie came in, looking freshly showered as well. Charlie came behind Nick and hugged him, his arms wrapped around Nick’s middle.
“Hi,” said Charlie.
“Hi,” returned Nick with a grin, turning his head towards Charlie.
“Sneak attack,” said Charlie, lunging up to kiss Nick’s cheek.
“Oi!” said Nick, laughing. “I doubt Health and Safety would be okay with snogging while whisking. Though I think,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “That it is an eggcellent idea.”
“Oh, god.” Nick could hear the despair in Charlie’s voice.
“They might caution that kissing while preparing breakfast is too whisky.”
“I…” A deep sigh.
“Charlie, why aren’t you cracking up at my yolks?” Charlie pushed his face in between Nick’s shoulder blades and Nick could feel the vibration of him laughing. “You’re giggling! You think I’m funny!”
“I hate you.” Nick could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice.
“No, you like me!”
“I really don’t.”
Nick laughed and turned around so he and Charlie were facing each other. He leaned down and left a soft, smiling kiss on Charlie’s lips. “Are you able to stay for breakfast with the guests today?”
Charlie gave an apologetic wince. “Sadly, no. I have an early meeting and a packed schedule today.”
“Can I bring something up for you in a bit?”
“That’s all right, I’ll just grab something. Don’t trouble yourself.” Charlie gave Nick a smile.
“Yes, because you’re so much trouble, Char. With your thoughtfulness and help around the kitchen and endlessly making out with the inn owner.”
“Shh, don’t tell the other innkeepers I hang out with,” Charlie scolded Nick. “I don’t use tongue when I kiss them; I don’t want them to get jealous.”
Nick laughed. “I’ll hold my…” He raised his eyebrows at Charlie, who rolled his eyes.
“Your tongue,” said Charlie flatly. “Ugh. God. Now you’re making me complete them? That was not part of the agreement I signed.”
Nick chuckled and drew their heads close together. Charlie lifted his hand to tickle the hairs at the back of Nick’s neck, and Nick felt an yearning in his low belly. “Let me know when you’re done with work, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, the playfulness dropping from his face, replaced by a look that made Nick tingle with anticipation. “I will.”
A shiver ran down Nick’s spine. It was going to be a long day.
-
Nick filled the day as best he could, and it actually passed surprisingly quickly. The guests that week were mostly nice, a mix of ages and nationalities, including a lovely Scottish family on holiday. Why they were on holiday in England in January Nick did not know, but they were great people all the same. Nick ended up lingering over the table for nearly an hour, chatting with the family and in particular their kids. Their daughter had just started playing rugby that year and was astounded when Nick said that he used to play rugby. He ended up speaking with her and her family for quite some time, the smile still on his face when they left to go upstairs to get ready for the day.
Nick missed that part of being in a professional organisation a lot. The Badgers had a great youth outreach programme, and Imogen on the public relations team knew which players had liked to engage in which community initiatives. She had always made sure Nick was on the youth programmes, and there were few things Nick loved more than chatting with kids who were eager to learn about rugby. Nick couldn’t wait until he got to re-engage in some youth coaching and connection when he started back with Badgers in June.
He filled the rest of his day with chores, a call with his manager to discuss some of the details of a few sponsorships he still maintained, and a workout. All of his activities happened with his phone close by, Nick lunging every time it lit up, most often with a message from Charlie. The texts were nothing, really - just little comments about something stupid that happened on a call or a meme one of them had sent to the other. It was objectively ridiculous to be messaging from within the same house, but Nick didn’t care. He would never get enough of Charlie Spring.
The afternoon slowed to a crawl when it got closer to the end of Charlie’s work day. Nick had gone to the kitchen to prepare part of breakfast for the next day. One of the guests wandered in while he was working to ask if there were going to be any nightshades in the breakfast tomorrow, and once Nick learned what nightshades were and how they were apparently more dangerous to the human body than sharks, lightning, and car accidents combined, he was able to get out that there were not nightshades planned. It was difficult, though, under the endless torrent of words from the guest, a middle-aged woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw his phone light up with a message from Charlie saying that he was done for the day with a winking, kiss-face emoji.
Nick busily nodded and mm-hmmed in the most maintaing-a-polite-affect-while-trying-to-distance-himself way that he could manage, furiously packing away the food for the next day and edging towards the kitchen door. Somehow the guest did not get the hint and kept chattering away as Nick’s brain screamed about the things it wanted to do, most of which involved touching Charlie Spring for several hours and none of which involved learning about the annual rainfall in Appleby-in-Westmorland. He was considering faking a coughing attack when he saw Charlie in the doorway, grinning at him and tilting his head at the guest as her back was turned. Nick shot a desperate look at Charlie, who suppressed a giggle and cleared his throat.
“Nick?” Charlie called. “Would you mind giving me a hand with grabbing something out of my car?”
“Of course,” said Nick, playing it cool. The giant smile on his face betrayed him a little, but Nick Nelson was the king of subtlety. “Please excuse me,” he said to the guest, who stopped mid-babble, withdrawing her phone that she had been brandishing at Nick, showing him a very intense and illustrated list of allium allergy symptoms.
Nick crossed the kitchen quickly and followed Charlie out to the car park, heading for his Golf. “Do you actually need help?” Nick muttered once they were out of earshot.
“No,” whispered back Charlie. “But it looked like you could use some.”
“Good god,” said Nick, laughing. “I feel like I was just told so many things against my will, including the order of operations that she takes in the shower - she shaves her legs first before shampoo, Charlie, I feel like you now also need to know that.”
“Thanks,” said Charlie, laughing and grimacing.
“I think if we just wait a few you can escape back to the house while I do the afternoon chores,” said Nick. “I think she used all of the words in the English language; she must have run out and gone back upstairs by now.”
“I’ll come with you,” Charlie offered. “I’ve been inside all day; I’d love to get out a little. And see the girls.”
“They’ll be happy to see you,” said Nick, smiling at Charlie. They walked down to the barn, bodies closer together than perhaps two good mates would be. Their shoulders bumped and Nick felt the brush of Charlie’s fingers as their hands grazed each other’s. Nick felt a thrill in his belly, just like when their hands had whispered together underneath the table the time everyone had been there. Nick had to assume that if he were lucky enough to get to be around Charlie for years, he’d lose the magic of holding his hand, or would no longer feel the same aching desire to hold Charlie’s hand. He hoped not. For now, though, it was all Nick wanted, and as soon as they walked down the hill to the barn and out of easy sight of the house, Nick slipped his fingers into Charlie’s. Charlie turned and looked at Nick as he wrapped his fingers together with Nick’s, his face warm with happiness, blue eyes sparkling.
“How was your day?” asked Charlie.
“Lonely,” said Nick in mock-mournfulness.
Charlie laughed. “How could you be lonely with Cheryl-the-chatter?”
Nick closed his eyes and laughed. “Do you remember Furbies? That was like having a human one in the flesh.”
Charlie giggled and Nick felt that same swooping squeeze of his heart; the same tender joy whenever he made Charlie laugh like that. Nick reluctantly let go of his hand once they got to the barn, leaving Charlie cooing over the cows while he climbed into the hayloft to toss down some flakes of hay. When Nick got back on the ground, he was surprised and touched to see Charlie spreading out the hay and checking the water in the troughs for the girls, chatting to them the whole time.
Nick leaned on the fence and watched for a minute, the smile gentle and tugging at his cheeks. “You don’t have to help, you know,” he said.
Charlie looked over and smiled back, walking over to the fence to lean on it from the other side. “I know,” he said. He looked at Nick through his eyelashes, making Nick feel melty inside. “I just…I want to be around you.” Charlie’s voice was shy, and it made Nick’s entire chest ache with fondness.
“I want to be around you, too,” said Nick, reaching through the fence to tangle their fingers together. “Can I just join your work meetings from now on so we can hang out during the day, too?”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, great idea, I love that. You can just sit quietly in the background of all of my calls without saying anything, just staring.”
“Your colleagues will love that,” said Nick, nodding. “They’ll be like, ‘oh, wow, who’s that stunningly handsome man who literally brightens the room when he walks in?’”
Charlie snorted. “And I’ll just lean close to the computer and mutter about ignoring my weird roommate.”
“Hey!” Nick protested, laughing. Charlie laughed too, and Nick opened the gate to let Charlie out of the paddock. Charlie joined him along the fence, where the two of them looked at the cows and the marshy area down at the base of the hill, swallows swooping and diving as they hunted in the last of the daylight. Their shoulders were close again and Nick nudged against Charlie. “Hey,” he said again, this time softer. He felt his heart quicken, even though he was getting less and less afraid to tell Charlie how he felt. “I missed you when you were gone.”
“I missed you, too,” said Charlie, tugging Nick’s arm off the fence so they faced each other. Charlie placed a hand on Nick’s chest, pressing against the muscle. Nick saw Charlie tilt forward and then stretch upwards, lifting on his toes so that their lips met. Nick leaned down and kissed Charlie back, their mouths meeting. Charlie made a soft sound and pressed harder against Nick’s body, and Nick tightened one arm around Charlie’s back as they kissed, quickly growing more intense and hungry for each other. Nick’s fingers were wide and pressed against Charlie’s coat, the other behind Charlie’s head, hand in his curls. Nick didn’t think it was possible to pull them as tight as he wanted their bodies to be connected.
Nick grunted in surprise when Charlie pushed him so that Nick’s back struck the fence, entirely cushioned by his coat. Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick’s neck and used one hand to pull Nick’s face closer. Nick could feel himself warming and it felt like his chest was blooming, the rush of heat feeling like it did after they had gone on their first date. They were both alternating between who was taking control, who was surging against the other. Nick loved it. One minute his body would be soft and pliant in Charlie’s arms, and then Nick would tighten his grip, clinging to Charlie, Charlie moaning in happy assent.
Nick’s head was thrown back and Charlie was kissing up his neck. Nick could see the condensation of Charlie’s breath rising like steam between them, and he felt like it perfectly encapsulated what they were at the moment. They were embers of a fire, one that had been set the week before Charlie had left. The coals had been warm the entire time, and now, it was only going to take a breath of air to burst into flames again. Nick was about to be the one to blow on the fire when Nellie lowed loudly behind them, making them both jump and laugh.
“Okay, we get it Nellie,” said Charlie, giggling. “We’ll keep it appropriate for the kids in front of you and Henry.”
Nick laughed, too. “She was probably worried we were going to go for a…roll in the hay,” he said, giggling at Charlie’s reaction, utterly disappointed in his humour.
“Oh god,” Charlie said. “I have a headache now.”
Nick chuckled, then drew Charlie in tight, speaking into his neck. “You know, that has to be so overrated,” he said, considering.
“What?”
“Literally having sex in hay - like, a true ‘roll in the hay’. Have you ever laid in hay? It’s so itchy. No one wants that.”
“We should come up with a new phrase,” Charlie mused, nibbling against Nick’s ear and making his spine feel like it was liquid, his legs loose. “We can make it a roll in the ‘hey, look at these 500-count sheets I have’.”
Nick laughed, though everything felt fuzzy except for what Charlie was doing to Nick’s ear and neck. That felt incredibly real. “That’s real sexy talk.”
When Charlie had been gone that week, Nick had been studying. He had looked up endless things, starting with porn but soon realising that a lot of it was a little too… slappy for him. It was nearly all…the only word he could come up with was hard, which felt appropriately inappropriate. It was about going fast and with intensity, with a huge proportion of the videos focusing on power and roughness. There was a place for that, of course, and Nick had always liked some aspects - at least when he and his partners in the past were in the mood for something rougher. But to start out with Charlie, to start out with this man whose body he genuinely wanted to worship, Nick didn’t want something like that. He did watch a few videos to figure out some techniques for using his mouth. Nick didn’t think he was quite ready for penetrative sex yet, but there would be time for trying everything. That was, if Charlie even wanted to.
There seemed to be a mountain of things to look through beyond porn to get some guidance, and Nick was so overwhelmed at first that he was even tempted to call Danny for help. Though he knew that Danny would have been accepting, loving, and non-judgemental, Nick wasn’t sure if he was prepared for the absolute enthusiasm that he knew Danny would exhibit. He didn’t know what he was prepared to handle about Danny’s thoughts and experiences in that arena, so he had set out on a Googling path instead, his fingers flying over the keys of an Incognito search window, playing a manner of search terms.
Nick had ended up finding several helpful articles and websites that were written in kind, educational, and frank tones. Nick read one particular article that helped provide some expectations of what it might be like to be intimate with another man for the first time. Be curious, the article encouraged him from the start. Don’t be afraid to talk to your partner about the things you like, the things he likes, and everything in between. The article had underscored how different bodies were, even if two bodies had the same parts as one another. You’re about to be intimate with another human. If you can’t ask for some emotional intimacy - talking and communicating to your partner about what you and they both enjoy - it might not be the most enjoyable physical intimacy, either.
Nick didn’t have any fears about that, though he did have some squirming anxiety in his stomach. He knew Charlie would communicate with him about what he liked and would help Nick. Still, Nick felt seen when the article noted that some men had been conditioned with straight sex to feel like they needed to “lead” sexual encounters, showing how proficient they were at doing The Sex. You and your partner are equals, unless you’ve consensually negotiated a different power dynamic. You are equal, so try leading sometimes, and following others. Life isn’t a rehearsal - you’re living it now. Be present, be communicative, and be kind - with that, it’ll be good , no matter how the details go.
Nick knew it would be good. It would be good because - it was Charlie. Together, they were Nick and Charlie, and they had somehow already navigated tricky waters with one another. They knew how to speak about nearly anything, and this wasn’t…scary. It was not scary. It was exciting and different and new and anticipatory, but Nick had no reason to be scared. Charlie was - well, the word that kept coming to Nick was good. He was good in all ways - kind, thoughtful, and caring. They would figure this out together, like they had everything else so far. Nick felt that deep comfort click into place in his body as Charlie gave him a sultry look, pulling him by the hand back towards the house.
Nick’s breath quickened in his chest as he and Charlie made their way to the house, both of them fumbling to get their boots off, Nick’s fingers slipping over the goddamn knots in his laces. They stumbled inside, entering through the door directly to Nick’s flat rather than the main house door, in case Cheryl-the-cockblock still lurked inside, ready to derail anything amazing with stories about her neighbour Monica’s dachshund that once ate her begonias.
They nearly dragged each other into the bedroom, falling on the bed together and kissing passionately. Charlie was on top of Nick, and Nick could feel his whole body sizzling with pent-up electricity and eagerness to please Charlie. Charlie’s hands roamed down Nick’s body as they kissed, pushing up his shirt slightly. Nick sat up to pull off his jumper, exclaiming in annoyance when a few pieces of hay fell out.
“Shit,” said Nick, dropping his head back. “I really should shower before we do…pants things,” he finished lamely.
Charlie giggled. “Pants things? Is this an after school special again?”
Nick laughed and pushed at Charlie’s arm. “Shut up.” He sighed and lifted himself up. “Mind if I excuse myself for a few minutes?”
Charlie’s eyes looked like he was wrestling with something. He opened his mouth once and shut it, then opened it again. “Well, I kind of feel the same after helping with the cows.” He paused. “I could go up to mine and shower too, or, uh…” He looked shyly at Nick, and Nick realised about thirty seconds late what Charlie was proposing.
“YES,” said Nick, loudly and nodding furiously. “I mean, no. You showering separately is, um, hard on the pipes, you know?” Charlie snorted and Nick blushed. “I mean - oh, fuck.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I was trying to be all silly and flirty and made that way more sexual than I even meant.” They lay there for a second, Charlie giggling against Nick’s chest. Nick lifted his head and looked at Charlie, who lifted his gaze, too. “Can we shower together?” Nick asked, saying the question out loud for the two of them.
“Yes,” said Charlie, eyes intense.
Nick got up slowly, taking Charlie’s hand and pulling him gently to the bathroom. Nick turned on the water to warm and then turned again to Charlie. His own jumper already off, Nick touched the hem of Charlie’s and waited for Charlie’s nod before pulling it off. Nick lifted off Charlie’s shirt and pressed closer, their chests meeting, skin against skin. Nick felt like he could see and feel the embers of the fire from a week ago, glowing orange-hot, moments from bursting into flame.
He swallowed and stepped closed to Charlie, running his hand down Charlie’s side. Charlie shivered and made a soft sound that went through Nick, his stomach pulling in and up. Nick trailed his fingers across to Charlie’s navel, and then let them trace down the path of dark hair that disappeared under Charlie’s waistband. Nick hooked his thumb under the fabric, Charlie shuddering under his touch.
“Okay?” asked Nick.
Charlie nodded before responding. “Yes,” he moaned and leaned his head back as he gripped Nick’s arms, fingertips pressing against Nick’s skin and muscles. “Yes,” he said again, eyes fluttering closed.
Nick breathed in deeply and then moved his hand over to the zipper on Charlie’s jeans. He could already feel Charlie against his hand, and he shivered despite the billowing heat coming off of the shower. Nick pulled the zipper down slowly, and then shifted both hands to push down Charlie’s jeans off of his hips, his blue boxer-briefs coming down with them. Nick inhaled sharply as all of Charlie emerged, half-hard. Nick crouched down to push Charlie’s jeans the rest of the way, keeping eye contact throughout. Charlie’s blue eyes looked dark, his pupils blown out and huge. From his lower vantage point, Nick was so close to Charlie - so close. Nick…he wanted to try that. He wanted to see what it was like to touch Charlie like that, feel Charlie in all of these different ways. He swallowed hard, willing himself to breathe and stay present.
Nick straightened up and shuddered when Charlie moved to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist to unbutton his own jeans, arms reaching around Nick’s sides. Charlie’s chest was pressed against Nick’s back, their bodies close and hot. Nick closed his eyes and exhaled audibly as Charlie unzipped him. He was already fully aroused, a shower of sparks flowing down his neck to his groin as Charlie’s hand moved past and over him, the tiny friction of the zipper making him feel electric. Charlie pulled Nick’s jeans down and then pressed behind him again. Nick gasped when he felt Charlie’s hardness brush against his thigh momentarily before he stepped back.
Nick turned to face Charlie, breathing in the stunning reality that Charlie was here, in front of him, naked, about to fucking shower with him. If the Nick from a month ago had heard this, he would have likely first finished in his trousers untouched and then scoldingly told the future Nick to go put a wash on while also calling him a liar. Nick’s eyes travelled down Charlie’s body, appreciating the gorgeousness in front of him.
“You’re so beautiful,” Nick murmured, stepping closer to kiss Charlie’s shoulder, then neck. “Like I said. You are so gorgeous.”
Charlie blushed and closed his eyes for a moment. He reopened them and looked at Nick, his eyes looking a little misty, though it could have been the collecting steam. “In?” he asked, taking Nick’s hand and leading him towards the shower.
Nick could only nod mutely. Charlie slid open the glass door and got in first, and Nick followed him. It wasn’t a large shower, just a regular tub with tile and glass walls, but honestly, Nick loved that. They were close together, the water cascading down. Charlie’s body was slick, lean lines, and right in front of him. Nick let the water hit their chests for a minute, the two of them looking at each other as their hands slowly moved across each other’s torsos, stomachs, arms. Nick reached past Charlie for the body wash, pouring some on his hand and then hesitating. “Can I…touch you? Wash you?”
Charlie made a small noise and nodded. Nick moved closer and ran his soapy hands down Charlie’s arms, across his stomach. He massaged Charlie’s back and neck with firm hands, making Charlie moan in sounds that bounced like a low thrum off the bathroom walls. Nick stood as Charlie did the same for him, washing his upper body and arms, both of them manoeuvring in the small space. Their bodies glided past each other, skin slick with water, soap, and desire. Charlie stepped closer to run his hands up Nick’s back and Nick felt them brush against each other, both fully filled out. He whimpered, unable to control the sound. It was one of wanting and lust and eager, aching need.
“Are you okay?” asked Charlie. He looked down between them. “Is this okay?”
“This is more than okay,” murmured Nick, his brain melting. “Can I…” he stepped so that one of Charlie’s thighs was in between his own. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” said Charlie without hesitation. “Can I touch you?”
“God, yes,” said Nick. Charlie moved his hand to slide against Nick’s erection, and Nick wobbled on his legs. He reached over and touched Charlie, sliding his palm down Charlie’s length.
Charlie whimpered this time and Nick was amazed that his own legs were still holding him up. The warm water was flowing between them, their hands flowing like liquid silk on each other. Nick tried to pay attention to what he was doing to Charlie, but his brain kept melting and reforming with what Charlie was doing to him. It felt so good. God, it felt so good and it was Charlie making him feel like this. Charlie would pull against him, his hand in a slick fist, then rub against the head of Nick’s penis, sending fireworks of feeling throughout his body. Nick groaned and leaned his head back, unable to fully experience this and do the same to Charlie. His hand was stuttering and stopping over and over despite trying to pay the same worshipful attention to Charlie as Charlie was to him.
“Let me take care of you,” murmured Charlie. “Can I do that?”
“Yes,” Nick said back, the word coming out as a long, shaky sigh.
Charlie repositioned himself, partially in front of Nick and partially to his side. He wrapped his whole hand around Nick and applied pressure that made Nick’s head spin and knees nearly buckle. He kept his hand tight, though not too tight. Nick was on fire, the water thumping against his skin from the showerhead the only reminder that he was still on Earth. Charlie moved closer, kissing against his neck and working him with a hand, occasionally rubbing his palm against Nick’s head, making his legs legitimately feel like they might give out on him. His whole body felt like it was quivering - his legs, his abs, the tiny muscles between his inner thighs.
“Are you doing all right?” Charlie murmured against him.
Nick nodded, gripping Charlie’s lean shoulder and feeling the muscles work underneath the skin as Charlie’s hand pumped against him, the heat and skin and knowledge that this was Charlie nearly driving him mad. “I - oh, god, Charlie, I won’t last.”
“Good,” Charlie said, and the word curling against Charlie’s tongue made Nick’s low belly tighten even more. “That’s good, Nick.” His hand moved faster and Nick gasped.
“Oh, god, yes,” Nick mumbled, words coming out in staccato bursts. “You - that - oh, god. God. Charlie!” The last word was an exclamation, nearly a shout of Charlie’s name as Nick came. Charlie continued to slide down Nick’s length as Nick shuddered, the thrum of the water on him and Charlie’s hand combining to make it seem like minutes before he was through. He breathed heavily through his nose, exhaling small amounts of water from the force of his breath. Nick slumped against Charlie when he was done, nearly hanging off of his smaller frame. “God, Char,” he said.
“Yeah?” said Charlie. His voice had a small note of pride in it.
“Yeah,” Nick said emphatically. He pulled Charlie’s hand up and kissed it, then kissed down Charlie’s wrist and to the crook of his elbow, the water letting his lips flow in a continuous glide down the olive skin. “You are amazing.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re just easily pleased. Or haven’t gotten laid in a while.”
Nick laughed too. “Okay, three things can be true at the same time, all right?”
Charlie snorted and Nick straightened up, pulling Charlie flush to his body. Charlie was still hard, almost astoundingly so. Nick wanted Charlie to feel the same pleasure that he had. Nick had read over and over about going down on a man, and he wanted to do that. He was intimidated by it, to a degree - the logistics, how to use hands and his mouth, and then the ending. Would he swallow the first time? He truly had no idea what any of that would feel like. It should have felt terrifying to consider trying this now, trying this right now, but Nick felt safe. He was with Charlie. And the flame was burning hotter than ever, Nick’s whole body alight with feeling and desire.
Nick ran his hand down Charlie’s stomach, hovering before he touched anything further down. His fingers traced the ripples in Charlie’s abdomen. “Can I touch you?” Nick asked, voice rough.
“Yes, still yes,” breathed Charlie, his inhales and exhales picking up pace. Charlie let out a soft gasp when Nick sank down to his knees in the shower, one hand gripping Charlie’s hip, the other still playing with the muscles of his stomach, fingers tugging their way along Charlie’s abdomen, slowly. So slowly.
Nick leaned his head against Charlie’s thigh and looked up at him, the hand on Charlie’s stomach drifting now to the skin on Charlie’s hip crease, so vulnerably white. “Can I - use my mouth on you?” asked Nick, looking up at Charlie.
Charlie looked astonished. “Do you want to do that?” he said, his voice sounding incredulous and with a twinge of disbelief.
“I really do,” said Nick, running his thumb now along Charlie’s hip crease, up to his hip bone, across his low belly before returning to grip his hip again. “Is that okay?”
Charlie made a high-pitched, breathy noise. “Yes, Nick,” he said, the word ending on a groan. “Yes, please. Please, Nick.”
The words, plaintive and lusty, cut through Nick like a warm knife through butter. He traced his fingers over and down, taking Charlie in his hand. Charlie gasped, and Nick slid his mouth over Charlie. It was - different. Thrilling. New. Incredible. Daunting. Right. Nick tentatively ran his tongue around Charlie’s head, and Charlie swore and groaned.
“God, Nick,” he hissed, squeezing Nick’s shoulder.
Nick flushed with pleasure and then went deeper with his mouth, moving his tongue like the articles had described. He adjusted the pressure with murmurs and feedback from Charlie, Charlie gently correcting him when he tried to go too hard, and then encouraging him when he was getting it right. Nick’s brain felt tingling zaps of pleasure when Charlie told him that he liked what Nick was doing, or that Nick, yes, that’s good, that feels so good, Nick. Charlie’s fingers trembled on his shoulders until Nick pulled one of them into his hair, where it tightened, tangling and pulling. Nick moaned and redoubled his efforts, feeling clumsy when he used his hand alongside his mouth, though Charlie’s noises gave him a swell of pride. He kept the other hand gripped onto Charlie’s hip, thumb anchored against bone, fingers pressing into the firm flesh along the side of Charlie’s glute.
Nick groaned when he felt a sharp tug in his hair, the sound low and long against Charlie’s dick, making Charlie shudder and moan lustily. “Nick,” said Charlie, pulling at Nick’s shoulder. “I’m nearly there.”
Nick hummed and continued to use his mouth and hands, remembering what one article had said about bollocks, reaching over to gently cup Charlie’s, rolling them gently. Charlie keened and Nick felt Charlie’s knees bump against him as they slightly buckled before he caught himself.
“I’m…Nick, I’m about to come,” breathed Charlie, his inhales and exhales ragged.
Nick stayed on with an affirmative noise, unsure what this part would feel like or how he’d react. This was new, but it was safe. He was safe with Charlie. Charlie’s fingers tightened again in his hair, pulling hard. Nick moaned loudly again, making Charlie pull harder, leaning back.
“God, yes,” Charlie whimpered. It felt like his voice was far away, his head tilted back. “Nick, I’m….” Nick felt Charlie’s hips twitch. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Charlie began to orgasm, but he still was. Nick pulled his mouth off after the first spill into his mouth, letting the water run in and out of his mouth, remembering with a start to keep his hand moving as Charlie tipped over the edge. Nick had no idea what he should expect with this part, the part that all of the articles had described. It was bitter and warm, but not entirely unpleasant. Nick was grateful for them being in the shower this time, for a way for him to experience this with options; a way to clean up and a way to ease in. Nick rested his cheek on Charlie’s hip crease and kept working Charlie with his hand as he finished. Charlie’s hips rolled forward a few more times in the sexiest movement Nick had ever seen before he sighed and gently touched Nick’s wrist.
Nick pulled his hand back and kissed each of Charlie’s thighs and along his beltline. He dragged his lips across the sensitive skin along Charlie’s hip crease before standing back up, Charlie pulling him up by the arm. Nick opened his arms and Charlie fell into them, tucking his arms against his chest as Nick wrapped him tightly. They swayed there under the water for a minute more, both of them breathing heavily. Nick tried to move his hips back a little, already half-aroused again, but Charlie shook his head and just moved in closer.
“It’s okay, Nick,” said Charlie against his chest. “I really don’t mind.”
Nick gave a soft laugh. “I just - god, Char. Hearing you and seeing you and, like - feeling you.” Charlie gave a soft note of a moan at that, and Nick felt himself continue to fill out. “You are so fucking sexy.”
Charlie looked up and lifted his chin. Nick didn’t know if he was allowed to kiss Charlie - after he had Charlie in his mouth - but Charlie lifted on his toes to kiss Nick and Nick hummed in pleasure. “I am?” asked Charlie. “I am literally in the shower with the hottest professional rugby player in the world.”
“Former rugby player,” said Nick, grinning down at Charlie.
“Oh, never mind then,” deadpanned Charlie. “Who cares, in that case.” Nick laughed lightly again and Charlie smiled at him. “God, Nick, you are so fucking sexy. You are so fucking hot. And that was…” he shook his head as Nick reached between them and turned the water off. “How do you feel? After doing…that? I’d assume, for the first time?”
Nick smiled. “You’d assume right.” He took a deep breath and told the truth. “Great, Charlie,” he said. “I feel great.” Nick hadn’t realised how amazing it would feel to make Charlie feel that way. He had done that. That was him, Nick, who had made Charlie feel that way. He could make someone’s face look like that. He could make someone’s body move like that, make sounds like that. And that someone could be Charlie. Charlie blinked in surprise, then his face broke into a giant smile. “How do you feel?” Nick asked, handing Charlie a towel.
Charlie laughed as he wrapped the towel around his head and shoulders and cuddled in close to Nick. “I now know what you meant when you said you felt like you had pasta limbs last week,” he said.
Nick chuckled as he brought Charlie to his chest, ignoring his own towel for now. He hooked his chin over Charlie’s head. “Makes you feel like your life has pasta you by, right?”
Charlie snorted. “Did you use your…noodle to think of that?”
Nick gasped, gently pushing Charlie gently away to look at him in glee before pulling them close again. “Oh my god, Char!”
Charlie shook his head. “Don’t look at me. I don’t even know myself.”
Nick lifted Charlie’s chin and looked at him in the eyes seriously. “Don’t be upset with yourself, Char,” he said. “I don’t want you to get upset with these spaghetti puns and throw something. You might al dente the wall.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and stepped out of their embrace, Nick laughing and winking at him. They both towelled off, each of them looking at each other and grinning as they dried. Nick went to grab a pair of joggers from the chair in his room, but Charlie held his arm and stopped him.
“What?” asked Nick.
“You don’t need those,” said Charlie, in a voice that purred up Nick’s backbone, tickling each vertebrae. “Not yet.”
Nick’s stomach swooped in giddy, heated anticipation. “I…”
He was cut off as Charlie pushed him onto the bed to sit. Nick sat starkers on the edge of the bed, and Charlie moved towards him, his body slow and sensual. The back of Nick’s neck felt like there were still rivulets of water running down, even though his hair was now only damp. Charlie climbed on top of him, Nick scooting back so that there was room for Charlie’s knees on either side of Nick’s hips. They were naked, skin warm against each other’s. Charlie drifted his fingers into Nick’s hair and Nick fought to keep his eyes open as a wave of heat rolled through his body.
“Nick,” said Charlie stoutly, the “k” sound crisp in the way that drove Nick mad. He kissed down Nick’s jaw to his neck, then back up to Nick’s ear. Charlie stayed there for a moment, teeth gentle and teasing on Nick’s earlobe. Nick’s insides were quivering even before the soft question came against his ear. “Can I use my mouth on you now?”
There was a blinding flash of white in Nick’s mind, a buzzing, amazed wash of disbelief that Charlie would do that to him, would want to do that to him. He had to swallow twice to get any words out. “Yeah,” he said in a low voice, clearing his throat. “I…I want that.”
Charlie kissed Nick hard, their mouths pressing together. Nick felt the heat shimmering in waves now up his body. He felt his low belly tighten and pull in. Charlie kissed Nick once more before sliding off of him and sinking down to the floor in front of Nick. His fingers traced a long, lazy path down Nick’s body, eventually wrapping around Nick’s calves and pulling on them. Nick got the hint and moved towards the edge of the bed, his abdomen taut, skin crackling.
Charlie was kneeling in front of Nick, his hands gripping Nick’s thighs. Nick didn’t know if the trembling was from Charlie’s hands or his own legs. Maybe it was both. Charlie looked at him and kissed the inside of Nick’s knee, looking up at him through dark eyelashes. Nick made a small sound, one that whined out of him. It was a sound of yearning and of wanting, of wanting to be close to Charlie in every way possible. Nick took a breath as Charlie leaned closer. And then Nick’s entire world melted.
Charlie’s mouth was on him and Nick was dizzy, spinning. He’d done this before, of course, had experienced this. But it was nothing like the times before. This was with Charlie, and that made it brand new. Nick had never been so attracted to and in sync with someone. He’d never honestly felt so connected to anyone. It felt like Charlie was giving him a gift right now. It wasn’t something that Nick expected Charlie to do. The fact that it was something Charlie was choosing to do to him, had chosen to do to him, with him - Nick was awash with gratitude, appreciation, and pure pleasure. It was a pleasure that almost had colour, rich vibrancies that filled him up and rinsed over him in waves.
Nick whimpered as Charlie used both his mouth and his hands, his touch both gentle and firm. His mouth maintained a steady, mostly intoxicating motion and feel while his hand cupped against Nick, gripped against him, traced where Nick’s thighs met his glutes, whispered along the tender skin near his hips. Nick was soaring. He was rooted to the spot. He arched back as Charlie expertly paid attention to him, making Nick writhe in heady ecstasy. Thank god he had a go in the shower earlier or else Nick would have lasted less than a minute, he thought absently. Charlie was just so good, so attentive. Nick’s back bowed again and Charlie made a humming sound, the vibration making Nick twitch with pleasure.
“I’m close, Char,” Nick said, his voice gravelly. He had his fingers tangled in Charlie’s hair, fingers contracting and releasing along with the rhythm of his body.
Charlie hummed again, and Nick’s hips tried to buck up, Nick actively fighting against the motion. Charlie sped up his mouth just incrementally, and Nick whined. He pulled against Charlie’s shoulder to warn him, and Charlie gripped Nick’s hipbone, fingers leaving pale marks in the flesh. Nick made a low sound and threw his head back as he climaxed again. It was just as powerful as just twenty minutes before, making Nick feel younger than he had in years with the apparent refractory period of a teenager. Charlie stayed on him and Nick rolled his hips slightly as he shuddered through the climax, Charlie never letting up until Nick was through.
Nick heaved a huge breath in and out and pulled Charlie up next to him, adjusting until both of their bodies were fully on the bed. Nick tugged until Charlie was on top of him, his cheek against Nick’s chest. Charlie’s hand traced patterns in Nick’s light chest hair, Nick’s breath slowly returning back to normal.
“That settles it,” Nick said finally. “You are by far the best guest who has ever stayed at Lavender Fields.”
Charlie giggled softly against Nick’s chest and Nick raised his hand to stroke through Charlie’s hair, still wet. “Was that - are you doing okay?”
“I think you took three years off my life, Charlie,” said Nick. “In the best way possible.”
Charlie smiled and nuzzled his cheek against Nick’s chest. “And it’s not even seven in the evening yet.”
Nick snorted in astonishment. “Shit, you’re right. I didn’t know I’d be on a rocketship to space before dinner,” he said, before adding, “Twice.”
Nick could see the curve of Charlie’s lips as he smiled. “Not a bad Wednesday so far,” Charlie said.
“Okay, fifteen more hours of cuddles,” said Nick sleepily. “Then I make you dinner.”
“We can make it together,” Charlie murmured back.
“That sounds nice,” said Nick absently, brain still offline. They stayed together like that, arms around one another, bodies warm and nude, skin against skin, kissing languidly. They must have drifted off briefly, Nick awakening to Charlie’s giggles, listening to Nick’s belly rumble.
“Someone’s hungry,” Charlie teased, nudging Nick.
Nick grinned and gently thwapped Charlie with a throw pillow. “Only because someone pulled the life force out of me.” He grinned and added again, “Twice.” Nick stretched long, Charlie doing the same. “Come on. Let’s make some dinner.”
They both dressed slowly and then headed out to the kitchen. They pulled down a recipe book together and flipped through pages, Nick directing Charlie where to find things on the rare moments that he didn’t know. Nick cooked while Charlie helped him, prepping ingredients and occasionally leaning in to kiss Nick softly. Nick sighed happily as he stirred the dish on the stove, reflecting on how incredible it was that they could do what they did in the bedroom and then have these gentle, domestic moments. Domestic and domes-dick, Nick thought to himself, internally giggling. He would have told Charlie that one, but he wanted to get laid again, and didn’t think that would help his chances.
They sat down to eat, quietly chatting and grinning at one another. Nick glanced down when he saw a message from Erin on the Badgers, confirming that he was set to go for the Badgers/Sale match later that month, tickets all set. Nick felt a squeeze in his stomach, setting down his fork. He hadn’t yet invited Charlie, and though he felt fairly certain Charlie would say yes, he still felt inexplicable nerves. If Charlie said yes, it would be their first trip together. A weekend of no responsibilities, just them. Nick wanted that. He really wanted that.
Nick cleared his throat. “Charlie?”
Charlie smiled and looked up. “Yeah?”
“There’s a Badger’s match in Leeds,” Nick said. “Against Seamus’s team, Sale. It’s a Badgers home match, which are always really fun to go to. And everyone will be there - the team of course, and then Shea’s team, too. I think Tex’s brother might come up as well.” He took a breath, aware that he was talking more quickly than he meant to. “It’s in a couple of weekends, the end of January. Would you go?” he asked. “With me?” he added, maybe a little unnecessarily.
Charlie looked at him, his eyebrows drawn together. “You…want to go on a trip together?” Nick couldn’t tell what Charlie’s expression meant, and in the silence, he felt the prickles of anxiety creeping up his chest.
“Shit,” he said, cursing internally at himself, too. “Is it too soon to ask you to go on a trip?”
“No,” said Charlie quickly, reaching out his hand and putting it on Nick’s. “No,” he said again, this time soothingly. “Not at all.” He inhaled and let out a sharp sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just…well…” he trailed off, looking frustrated and sad. “It’s…Ben.” Nick felt the leaden weight of that fucker, of the impact that his heaviness still had on Charlie. “You’re just…” He shook his head, looking at Nick with some incredulity on his face. “He never wanted to be seen with me. Not that whole first year. And even when it was longer, when we had been together for a while, he still never wanted to, like, do a lot of public stuff.” Charlie laughed bitterly. “I can’t believe I ever thought there would be a wedding.”
Nick felt simmering anger in his chest and moved his hand to rest on top of Charlie’s. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Charlie’s hand softly. “I can’t believe he ever thought he deserved you.”
Charlie looked at him, his eyes a little red and filled with gratitude. “I do want to go with you, Nick,” he said. “I just…I’m still getting used to you, I guess. I’m getting used to how good you are. It - it’s hard sometimes to get used to you wanting to be…around me.”
Nick’s chest ached with feeling. God, this man. This perfect man. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you, Charlie Spring,” he said quietly. Charlie reached out his other hand and Nick did the same, the two of them gently holding one another’s hands, thumbs and fingers caressing. Nick swallowed past the burn in his throat and blinked away the heat from his eyes. “So…trip?”
“Trip,” Charlie said, his voice quiet but happy.
Nick picked up one of Charlie’s hands, giving it a quick kiss before setting it back down and picking his fork back up. Being back with the Badgers, in Leeds and with Charlie? Nick could hardly imagine something more beautiful.
Notes:
Caprese Breakfast Casserole
1 Tbsp olive oil
½ onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
18 eggs
½ c milk
1 ½ c shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1 c grape tomatoes, halved
1 c chopped basil
1 tsp kosher salt
¼ tsp black pepperSpray a 9” x 13” casserole dish with cooking spray and preheat the oven to 350.
In a small skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Saute the onion until soft, and then add the garlic. Cook for 2 more minutes. Remove from heat and put on a plate to cool.
In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and milk. Add the onion and garlic. Stir in 1 cup of mozzarella cheese, the tomatoes, the basil, the salt, and the pepper. Pour the egg mixture into the pan, spacing out the tomatoes and basil. Sprinkle the rest of the mozzarella on top.
Bake for 45 - 60 minutes or until the eggs are set and firm. Let cool for 10 minutes before cutting.
Chapter 24: Travel
Summary:
Last Time: Nick and Charlie continued to explore intimacy in all its forms. Nick invited Charlie to go on a trip to a Badgers match with him.
This Time: A few weeks pass at Lavender Fields, and the boys head up to Leeds for a trip with the team.
Notes:
Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork are like the human equivalencies of some rousing-yet-hiliarious-and-somehow-also-poignant song from a Sondheim musical. They are kind, funny, supportive, and authentically make this story so much better. You don’t know how many details have been a result of brainstorming with these two gorgeous humans. Wavey is writing The Write-Up with Bea and it’s MAGIC. There are elements of demisexuality and it’s beautifully written. NSB is working on As You Are. As You Are has been wonderful the whole way, and some awesome things are a-happening!
BeezusRed continued to write brilliantly unhinged works from the perspective of Nellie and Henry. I was remiss in linking last week’s, so here are two hilarious instals for you! Please enjoy Home Moo-sings and Ember Moo-sings from my brilliant friend.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick had no idea that time could pass so quickly until he was with Charlie Spring. Specifically, he had no idea how quickly two and a half weeks would pass with Charlie Spring where Nick was able to kiss him, hold him, and sleep in the same bed with him.
They spent their evenings together every night that Charlie was there. Sometimes they’d be on the couch, giggling at Love Island or with Charlie gently making fun of Nick whenever Nick teared up at movies, usually during sports montages and basically any time an animal was on screen. Charlie would tease him, grinning and stroking his cheek, and Nick would bury himself in Charlie’s chest. He pretended it was because he was embarrassed for Charlie to see him get teary, but really, it was the desire to be close to Charlie. And take in the scent of Charlie. Nick loved it.
There were times that they lingered at the dining room table, eating together and talking. They talked about everything, really. Both of them shared more about their families. Sometimes they were holding hands, thumbs stroking soothingly over skin, sometimes with fingers caressing forearms and thighs. Nick truly felt so cared for and about by Charlie at all times, but especially during those conversations. Charlie listened. He asked Nick quiet questions and nodded thoughtfully, sometimes pushing Nick and other times knowing when to let Nick have space, quiet, and time to consider.
And there were other moments, too. The ones where they were gasping for air against each other’s bodies, necks and backs arching in pleasure. They’d lay with skin touching skin, Charlie’s head against Nick’s bare back, cheek pressed against skin sheened with sweat after their bodies were together. There was so much they hadn’t done yet, but Nick didn’t feel rushed or desperate. He felt…alive. He felt fully attuned to Charlie, Charlie attuned to him.
It hadn’t been just them on their own; they’d had visitors. Tara and Darcy had stopped by after their weeks of travels, the camper-van again hooked up to the house. The four of them stayed up late one Thursday night, draped around the furniture in Nick’s private upstairs living room in the attached flat. Tara and Darcy had told them about their travels, both of them giggling and occasionally talking over each other as they described the adventures they’d gotten up to. Nick smiled as he listened, taking Charlie’s hand and drifting his fingers up and down Charlie’s wrist. He half-listened while imagining himself going on the same types of adventures with Charlie. Exploring new places, meeting people together, eating dinner in warmly lit restaurants before stumbling back to hotel rooms. Nick felt an ache in his chest, even though he knew they’d be going on a trip shortly. He wanted that with Charlie. He wanted everything with Charlie.
Darcy had also shared that she and Danny had been messaging back and forth, informing Nick and Charlie that their two-person group chat name was Dancy. Nick met eyes with Tara as Darcy enthusiastically shared her plans for her and Tara’s summer trip which would include a stop in Leeds to see Danny and James. Tara looked both amused and haunted, giving a tiny shake of her head. Nick got it. Those two together could cause a rip in both the space-time continuum and the alcohol continuum.
There were guests of course too. Charlie helped whenever he could in the mornings, his body quick and lithe in the kitchen, moving smoothly and elegantly, a perfect dance between the two of them. Nick never thought he’d get enough of seeing Charlie’s graceful hands picking up the coffee carafe or teapot to bring them to the table. Enough guests had referred to each of them as each other’s boyfriend, partner, or husband that Nick barely blushed anymore. Well, he did. But at least his voice didn’t make that multi-octave squeak that it had the first time a guest had made that mistake. And Nick also had to wonder…would it be a mistake at this point? The husband thing of course was a mistake (no matter what things that word did to Nick’s entire torso, every cell in his abdomen melting and stirring together in a nervous, excitable pool). But the boyfriend thing, the partner thing…
Nick didn’t know how you had conversations like that as adults. He knew that he liked Charlie. He knew that he wanted to be with Charlie, both now and for literally as long as Nick could imagine. Nick didn’t want to be with anyone else. Those seemed…like boyfriend ingredients? Nick kind of assumed they were boyfriends. At least, he hoped they were. Nick idly thought about what Charlie thought about, like how Charlie would describe him to someone else if he was telling them about Nick. Though, admittedly - that probably wasn’t the best indicator. Charlie seemed to always be nervous about assuming what Nick wanted to present to the world about the two of them, typically dropping Nick’s hand when they went to town and backing off from touching Nick when they were in public. Nick wondered if Charlie would minimise what their - their relationship? - what that was to each other to try to keep Nick from being uncomfortable.
Nick was definitely not uncomfortable.
In fact, he was getting more and more comfortable with everything, especially the physical side of their relationship, however it might be labelled. Nick hadn’t ever felt uncomfortable with touching - in fact, he’d felt far more uncomfortable for those months when they hadn’t touched each other in the ways that they had both liked. Where he had been uncomfortable in this new era - or maybe the better word would be “unpracticed” - was with how to touch and treat Charlie’s body. Nick just hadn’t had experience being intimate with a man before, and it was a new experience to have the same parts as the person you were in bed (or on couch, or against a wall, or…) with but not know what would make Charlie feel the way Nick wanted him too. Nick had the general idea of course, like their first experiences the night when they had shared a shower. But he wanted to be enough for Charlie. God, he was worried about too much sometimes and not enough others - sometimes Nick’s brain irritated him.
On the days when Charlie was in London, Nick read a lot. He was embarrassed at first to land on several sites that seemed to be aimed at queer teenagers exploring their first non-heterosexual relationship. That had sent him into a tiny spiral for a bit, as well as a period of mourning for the youthful moments of discovery that he never had. Then he found an article by an author that had encouraged adults who were recently exploring their sexuality. “There’s no age limit on realising things about yourself. There’s no upper boundary for exploring new things. No one is going to kick you out of the cool queers club if you’re above thirty, or forty, or seventy. You’re allowed to learn. You’re the only one who can set limits on that.”
With that wisdom, Nick embraced reading things that catered to all newly discovering people, regardless of age. And from that, he and Charlie had done so many things that Nick had never even really conceptualised were options, or maybe had forgotten since the awkward school assemblies that he and others had grimaced through. In trying things with Charlie, Nick was transported back to his first sexual encounters, the ones where he felt like a bumbling deer on ice, all limbs and flailing without any confidence or awareness. Those times had been both terrifying and exciting. Now that Nick was with Charlie, it was like his horny sixteen-year-old self was back, this time in the body of a thirty-one year-old with slightly more endurance and a credit card.
Charlie was patient and caring, constantly checking in with Nick and never pushing to go further than Nick was ready for. Nick didn’t remember feeling so taken care of by a partner. That was his job - he was the man, he was supposed to be confident and the leader. At least, that was what he had told himself (or been told) about heterosexual relationships. It took a lot of reading and introspection to feel secure in letting Charlie lead, or working up the nerve to quietly tell Charlie something he wanted to try.
That was how they’d ended up experimenting with intercrural sex, Nick behind Charlie in the shower, the soapy water providing incredible glide between Charlie’s thighs. They hadn’t spoken about penetrative intercourse yet, though it has been on Nick’s mind. That first time with Nick between Charlie’s thighs was mind-blowing and spectacular, Nick seeing bursts of light behind his eyelids at the sensation. The shower had become one of their favourite places to get both clean and dirty at the same time, a joke which Nick both wanted to make so badly to Charlie but also feared could threaten his beloved watertime activity. He kept it to himself. Nick had felt electric when they had tried that, Charlie’s body all wet muscle against his, the tightness against himself dizzying. Nick’s arms had been wrapped tightly around Charlie, and it was almost the closeness that Nick had been craving. He truly felt as though he wanted his body to be even more connected with Charlie’s, even closer. He wondered what it would feel like to truly connect with each other, to have one draw the other inside.
Nick wanted that, but he was also loving everything they did. It started good (if clumsy, on Nick’s part), but it had gotten so much better. It had only been fifteen nights that they had shared a bed together; fifteen nights after they first kissed, all of the ones where Charlie wasn’t in London. Not that Nick was keeping count. Nick had become more confident, both from practising (both solo and with Charlie…) and a lot of researching on the days when Charlie was in London. Charlie, too, had gotten more vocal, guiding Nick with gentle feedback and direction. He’d tell Nick more of what he liked and occasionally what felt good, both verbally and through his actions. Charlie’s fingers would quiver and jerk in Nick’s hair when Nick did something he liked, like when Nick pressed his fingers against Charlie’s smooth, firm glutes as they kissed, bodies against one another. Nick could feel the muscles in Charlie’s body twitch in tiny movements, and the combination of sounds and sensations made him feel more than he thought he ever had. Between Charlie gently guiding Nick and the research that Nick had done, everything just kept getting better in terms of how Nick was able to read what Charlie liked.
Well, mostly at least. Charlie was always eager to attend to Nick, always making sure his needs were taken care of first. But when Nick went to reciprocate for Charlie - or take care of Charlie first - it always seemed like Charlie tried to hurry along his own pleasure. Nick couldn’t quite pinpoint how - but Nick would be taking his time, wanting to explore and attend to every inch of Charlie’s skin. Charlie would hum and sigh happily, but also always gives cues for Nick to get him to finish faster. Nick hoped it was from desire and arousal, but there was something - something that seemed to hold Charlie back from letting Nick worship him the way Charlie deserved, unhurried and tender.
There had been some small bumps like those, and then there were also a few that lived only in Nick’s mind. A few nights after the incredible experience in the shower with Nick slipping between Charlie’s thighs, Nick had asked Charlie if he wanted to try the same thing - this time doing that to Nick. Charlie had looked surprised. He had hesitantly asked if Nick really wanted to do that, and Nick was confused when he assured Charlie that he did. Once they had pushed their bodies together and moved against each other Charlie seemed to grow more keen, though Nick checked in several more times to make sure this was something Charlie was truly open to.
They’d used lube - too much, honestly, and Nick knew that towel was a lost cause. In the moment, Nick had been flying. Charlie’s hands were gripping him from all over, Charlie’s chest pressed to his back, the thrusts of his hips making Nick keen and moan. Charlie’s hand roamed his body, Charlie’s length occasionally brushing past his entrance as he moved. It had felt unreal, and the sounds Charlie made when Nick used the palm of his hand on Charlie’s tip when it was between his thighs were obscene and delicious, a symphony of pleasure between the two of them. That had truly been one of the most transformative moments of Nick’s sexual life, and he had drifted towards sleep in Charlie’s arms afterwards, only for his eyes to snap open as he considered the idea of them doing - that - in…that position.
Objectively, Nick wanted to do that. He wanted to experience what it was like to feel Charlie in him, to be in Charlie. But he could also feel the dark tug of shame pulling at him when he thought about Charlie in him, taunting wordless anxieties around what it meant to be in various positions. It was infuriating - those thoughts felt like someone else’s, and they were also entirely at odds with how he actually felt, especially when he was in the moment with Charlie. Nick had felt attended to, turned on, present, and filled with waves of pleasure. It was just the thought afterwards that made him wonder if he’d be filled with the same hooks of external shame if - when - they tried that together with penetrative sex.
Sex - like, full-on sex itself - was something that Nick had spent an inordinate amount of time thinking through, wondering about, Googling, and both anticipating and fearing. Well, not quite fearing - but it gave him a squeeze of anxiety in his chest on occasion. Fortunately, those moments were short-lived. Nick did sometimes spiral about logistics and positions and prep, but only until he remembered that it would be with Charlie, who would never make him feel scared or alone. Literally every sexual experience with Charlie (and all experiences, to be honest) had been filled with respect, kindness, and patience. Sex was and would be no different.
Beyond the sexual realm, it was just so good with Charlie. Nick had the most fun he had ever had with a partner, the two of them fitting together in all aspects of their lives. Nick taught Charlie one of the games that the rugby lads had all played - “my team/your team”. It was a simple one that Nick thought perhaps Decker had invented. In a public space, they would nudge each other to point out someone awesome and call, “My team.” On the opposite side, they’d do the same thing with absolute boobs, like when Charlie noticed a 40-something man loudly boasting about how much money he had won on a UFC fight during one of their trips into town.
He’d quietly muttered, “Your team,” to Nick, and Nick groaned in devastation. He’d added two fantastic people to his team that day, including a woman in her 70s with purple hair wearing sparkly silver leggings. This Brad-Chad-Seb hybrid was going to ruin his bench.
“I regret teaching you this game,” sighed Nick, shaking his head as the guy on the phone got into an offensively yellow car. “You know he’ll refuse to take my team bus since he ‘likes the feeling of being in control while driving.’ Just while driving of course.”
Charlie snorted and nudged against Nick as they walked back to the truck. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” he said haughtily, their shoulders close together.
Nick laughed. “Did you learn that from Sebastian over there?” He nodded towards the douchebag that was sadly now a member of his team, revving his engine to show just how large his penis was.
Charlie giggled and Nick wanted to take his hand and feel Charlie’s warm fingers intertwined with his. He took a breath and did just that, figuring if Charlie was uncomfortable with holding hands when they were out together, he’d drop Nick’s hand. Charlie didn’t.
He did look down at their hands together and Nick saw the tips of his ears turn slightly pink. Charlie looked up shyly at Nick with a tentative, tremulous smile and Nick tightened his fingers around Charlie’s, thumb stroking Charlie's index finger.
“Are you okay with this?” Nick murmured quietly, his head tipping towards Charlie’s.
“If you are,” Charlie said quietly. He looked up to smile softly at Nick and it was both gorgeous and heartbreaking. Nick hated any person in Charlie’s life who had made him feel as though he wasn’t worth being proud of being with, one in particular.
“Literally always, Char,” Nick said back. He’d say that as many times as Charlie needed to hear it to truly believe him. He moved a little closer so their forearms were wrapped snugly against each other, shoulders close. Nick didn’t know if it was possible to be as close to Charlie as he wanted to be, ever.
-
Finally, it was time for their trip to Leeds. Miraculously, the guests that were booked had cancelled, and Nick hired the neighbours down the road to take care of the chores and the cows while they were gone. Charlie had even taken off Monday and Tuesday, and they had decided to make a proper trip out of it, especially as Sarah was coming back to Lavender Fields for good on Friday. Nick was distantly aware that her presence would change a little of how they acted, but the nights would still be their own, tucked away in the downstairs, most private room in the main house. As for the trip, they’d stay in Leeds Friday and Saturday nights, then head out for the other days. Nick had already booked a spot and just smiled at Charlie every time he asked where they were going afterwards, making Charlie roll his eyes and lean affectionately into Nick.
Because Charlie was taking off Monday and Tuesday, he wouldn’t have any in-office days the following week. That meant that Nick and Charlie had the entirety of nearly two weeks together, a fact that made Nick giddy. No missing Charlie while he was in London. No dinners where he looked at the empty seat across from him, wondering what Charlie was having for dinner. No over-long showers where Nick thought about…well, things.
They’d only spent a total of seventeen nights together (not that Nick was counting) and Nick never thought he’d get used to it. He adored going to bed with Charlie and waking up with Charlie, their bodies always touching throughout the night. This weekend would be what Nick had been craving since they finally kissed almost a month ago; mornings where they could just lay in bed together, no chores to do, no guests to feed, no cows to tend. It felt like an absolute luxury, and Nick couldn’t wait. Less so on Saturday and Sunday, of course. They were staying with Danny and James on Friday and Saturday nights, so Saturday morning would be a bit of a jumble getting ready for and getting to the match, and then Sunday would be a painful one, if experience was any teacher. They’d go out with the team Saturday night, and those nights usually ended up at Danny and James’s anyway. At least this way they could just flop around until they were recovered without having to haul themselves to a hotel.
Nick was excited for all of it. He was excited to show Leeds to Charlie and bring Charlie to some of his favourite places - the coffee shop he went to most mornings, a few parks (including one where he sometimes lurked in the dog run area just watching like a creep), and of course, Badgers Stadium. Nick was eager for Charlie to see Leeds, but he was eager to be with Charlie in Leeds, and then for their trip afterwards, too. They hadn’t had the chance to be in the world together much, and Nick couldn’t imagine anyone else he’d rather travel with.
-
Charlie had to work most of the day on Friday, so it was half four by the time they were able to get on the road. Charlie offered to drive, and they piled into the Golf, zipping out of the driveway and down the road just a little too fast. Something like that shouldn’t have made Nick’s heart swell with even more fondness, but it did. They laughed and chatted throughout the drive, snacking on the blueberry swirl muffins Nick had made.
Nick had insisted on making a playlist for the trip, too, though Charlie insisted back that he be allowed veto power for any songs that weren’t cool enough. Nick quickly discovered that despite Charlie’s amazingly cool music tastes, he was game for some pretty fantastically awful songs. Nick’s playlist was heavy on S Club 7, Avril Lavigne, and B*Witched, the two of them singing in horrific non-harmony.
Hey boy, in your tree
Throw down your ladder, make a room for me (oh-oh)
I got a house with windows and doors
I'll show you mine if you show me yours
Nick laughed loud and long when Charlie shimmied and worked a hand up Nick’s trousers at the “show you mine if you show me yours” line, gasping when Charlie brushed against him, making him jump and squeal.
“Oh, sorry,” said Charlie, looking over at him through the rear-view mirror with falsely apologetic eyes. “I was going for your knee.”
Nick giggled. “If it went all the way to my knee I think we’d have some challenging logistics to figure out.”
Charlie laughed and made a face. “Oh my god, a dick down to the knee? You’d have to roll that up like a fire hose.”
That of course got them talking about a multitude of “would you rathers”, including fingers for toes or toes for fingers (both agreed that they’d want fingers for toes), eight nipples like a pig or no nipples at all (Charlie said none, Nick said eight), and grow an extra thumb on forehead versus on their bum (that had just led to a very silly, very odd revision of the nursery rhyme Little Jack Horner, both of them giggling endlessly by the end). The car ride flew by, hours feeling like minutes. More often than not, one of their hands was on the other’s, gently linking their fingers on top of the gear shift, or a hand on a leg. Once, it was hands roaming each other as they kissed hard after a stop for petrol, Nick shoved against the door of the car as Charlie snogged him senseless.
They were about an hour from Leeds when Charlie got an alert on his phone, Charlie glancing over and handing his phone to Nick.
“Can you tell me what’s on there?” he asked, eyes on the road.
Nick felt a stir of warm trust with the idea that Charlie didn’t mind him looking at his phone. “Uh, it says you have a voicemail. The name says ‘Flat people - Boris’?”
“Oh, shit,” said Charlie, eyes glancing at the phone. “That’s the company that’s been updating me on the flat. For my place in London.”
“Oh,” said Nick, holding the phone tightly like it might drop the way his stomach just did. “Do you want me to…?”
“Yeah, can you play it?” asked Charlie.
Nick nodded and plugged in Charlie’s phone, taking his off Bluetooth. He pressed play and Nick heard a man speaking with a thick Mancunian accent, heart in his throat as he waited for his world to come crashing down.
“Hullo, Charlie, this is Boris - sorry it’s taken us so long to get back to you. I’ve, uh - my director is here to formally apologise as well on how long it’s taken.” Now, a crisp woman’s voice was on the phone, a clipped Scouse accent.
“Charlie, I know we’ve spoken before,” she said primly. “We feel terribly about how long this has taken. We should have some more information soon on when your flat will be ready, so please call us back this weekend or next week. You’ve been so patient and kind; few tenants would be like that, we do so appreciate that.”
Nick glanced at Charlie, who looked back at him. Charlie gave Nick a small smile and stroked the back of Nick’s hand with his index finger as they continued to listen, the man’s voice on again.
“We’ll continue to forgo your rent as we do the work,” added the man. “As Emily said, we’ll have more information later this weekend, but we’re looking at a date likely in March. We know that’s at least a full month away and do apologise again.”
“Sincerely apologise,” added the woman. Nick felt his whole body lighten and float, desperately happy. March. It sounded like Charlie wouldn’t have to leave until March. They had at least another month to figure anything - everything - out. Charlie’s hand squeezed Nick’s, barely perceptibly, when she said March, and when they looked at each other again, it looked like Charlie was fighting back a smile. Charlie quickly schooled his face and sobered, looking at Nick.
“Well, fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “You up for a parasite for an entire additional month?”
Nick sighed and pretended to consider. “I don’t know, Charlie. I’d be forced to spend almost another thirty days with my favourite person. I just don’t think I can handle that kind of stress right now.”
Charlie’s face went from playful to stunned in a moment. He glanced over at Nick, eyes large and voice quiet. “Your favourite person?”
Nick lifted his head from where he had it leaned against the window, looking at Charlie. He has said it teasingly and offhandedly, but it was entirely true. Nick thought Charlie knew that. “Uh, yeah?” he said, lifting his eyebrows in surprise and touching Charlie’s cheek, then letting his hand drift down to Charlie’s neck, staying there and massaging the back of Charlie’s neck. “You are absolutely my favourite person.” He tilted his head towards Charlie while his hand stayed on Charlie’s neck. “Just don’t tell Mark.”
Charlie laughed loudly, the shock and heart-rending surprise draining out of his face. He glanced briefly at Nick, and then back at the road. “You’re my favourite person, too,” Charlie said quietly.
Nick’s lungs felt like they were filled with a golden warmth, his chest glowing and happy. He was a little surprised to feel heat filling his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, settling his emotions before speaking again. “What a coincidence,” he said quietly, Charlie reaching his own hand back to touch Nick’s fingers, still there behind his head.
They drove on in happy quiet for a few miles, Nick marvelling at how incredible his life was.
After a quick supper at an Indian takeaway that the Badgers loved, Nick checked his phone and saw that Danny and James were already home, waiting for his and Charlie’s arrival. Nick drove over to their place, pointing out various places in Leeds where he usually spent his time. Danny and James’s place was fairly close to Nick’s flat, and he slowed down as they passed to show Charlie the luxury building. He was letting one of the younger lads on the team crash there for a week more - Fitzy was a nice kid and was between leases. Nick preferred the idea of someone using it instead of it sitting idle. It was a little silly to be where he lived and not stay in his own place, but Danny had been immensely pleased. Not at first, though.
“You mean to tell me that you were going to come to Leeds and not stay with me and James?” he had demanded on the phone a few weeks prior.
“Yes, Danny, I was planning on going to the town where I live and staying in my own home?”
Danny made a huffing sound. “I have no choice but to take this as a personal affront against me and everything I stand for, including the entire country slash continent of Australia.”
Nick laughed. “Why is it not a personal affront to James?”
“That boy is perfect; you’d have to be a monster to hold a personal affront against him.”
Danny had quickly (and very loudly) argued when Nick mentioned a hotel, insisting that he and Charlie stay at his and James’s place. Nick had spent many a night there and supposed that he and Charlie would have ended up crashing there after the post-match night out anyway, so he hadn’t put up too much of a fight. And he loved any time when Charlie got to be with his friends, and vice-versa.
Nick pulled up to the semi-detached home that Danny and James had bought together three years earlier. The well-maintained garden hid the malarkey that the insides of the house had seen, and Nick grinned just looking at the front door. Nick parked and took advantage of Charlie gathering his things to open the door for Charlie, the glowing smile that Charlie gave him more than compensating for the gesture. Nick reached past Charlie and shut the door, then leaned down to kiss Charlie briefly on the mouth.
“Hi,” he said, grinning.
Charlie’s eyes were wide, darting quickly to either side to look at the dark, empty street on either side of them before looking at Nick tenderly. “Hi,” Charlie said back quietly, a small smile on his face.
“Are you sure you’re still okay staying here?” Nick had been a little worried about Charlie feeling comfortable staying with Nick’s mates. He had probably asked enough times to double check that Charlie was going to gently smother him the next time he did.
“Definitely,” said Charlie patiently, and the ease in his voice relaxed the last of Nick’s nerves. He looked up at Nick. “I really like your friends.”
“Well, they love you,” assured Nick, taking Charlie’s hand and pulling him along from where Charlie seemed to be momentarily frozen. They walked up to the house and Nick gave a cursory knock before unlocking the door by the key panel. It wouldn’t have been a visit to the Turner-Walker (Twurker, Danny had unsuccessfully pitched many times) without a full-body hug from Danny and Nick set his feet when he saw Danny slide into the hall, skidding on socked feet. Nick laughed as Danny slammed into him, still in his suit from the team dinner. Charlie was next, making a tiny terrified sound as Danny wrapped him in a giant hug, picking him up off the floor as Nick hugged James, also in his suit.
Once the greetings were done and Nick found a drink both in his and Charlie’s hands without awareness of how it got there, they all ended up in the sitting room. Danny had pulled James into the large armchair where he was sitting, James leaning back against Danny’s chest. Nick and Charlie were on one of the sofas, Charlie’s hand draped over Nick’s thigh. It was so simple, a connection of skin through cloth, and the fact that Charlie felt comfortable enough here, with Nick’s friends, made his heart soar. It wasn’t lost on Nick that they were four queer men, comfortable with showing affection in front of each other.
“Welcome back to Leeds, mate,” said Danny, toasting Nick with a glass of water. He and James weren’t drinking with the match the next day, as was the norm before a fixture.
“Thanks,” said Nick with a grin. “We hit some of the old standbys - Tharavadu for dinner. Then I think we’ll go to Cork and Café for coffees tomorrow; maybe walk around the university too if it’s not too brutally cold.”
“Yes, do all those wholesome things before tomorrow night,” nodded Danny with a grin. “We have a full night of hedonism ahead of us after we destroy Seamus’s team.”
James laughed and rolled his eyes. “Have you been to Leeds much, Charlie?” he asked.
“No, not much,” said Charlie. “I had a friend here from secondary who went to Uni, but really haven’t spent a lot of time here.” He looked at Nick briefly and Nick felt his heart flutter just from that tiny point of contact. God, he loved being around Charlie. He wondered if he’d ever truly get used to Charlie. Nick hoped not.
“You’ll love it in the daylight,” said James. “I reckon you didn’t see much tonight; I’m sure Nick will show you all the best places.”
“Well, he can see the best place tonight,” said Danny with a yawn, stretching and scratching his broad chest. “I mean, our bedroom is right here.”
Nick and Charlie laughed and James shook his head affectionately. “Actually, god, I’m rude,” he said abruptly to Charlie, standing up. “Do you want to see the place? We did a ton of changes in here since we bought it, actually.”
“I would love to,” said Charlie genuinely. “Your house is gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” said James as they got up. “Nelson, I think you’re probably familiar with the layout,” he added with a grin.
“Mildly familiar, I’d call it,” said Nick with a laugh. “I’ll sit this one out.”
“Oi, my little lemon shark,” called Danny. “Show young Charles here the spot where Nick technicolour yawned in the guest room that night after he mixed a bottle of wine with lemon drop shots.”
Nick shuddered, a true visceral reaction coursing through his body. “Please do not do that, James,” he said, groaning.
Danny lit up, eyes sparkling. “So you admit it was you! After two years, vindication!”
Nick blanched. “I meant, do not show him any carpet-spots-of-lies, James,” he said hurriedly. Nick turned to look at Charlie, trying to look supplicating and innocent at the same time and probably just looking like he had indigestion. “Nothing happened. I am a distinguished gentleman.”
Charlie and James laughed as they headed out, their chatter fading as they went into the house. The fear in Nick’s heart for any embarrassing stories that James might tell was tempered by how warm he felt to have Charlie here in Leeds, getting along so well with his friends. It made Nick wonder for the first time what it might be like if Charlie was willing to, like…consider what it looked like after Lavender Fields. When Nick had to go back to Leeds and Charlie had to go back to London. Would Charlie - would he ever consider spending time in Leeds? Nick could picture it so clearly; the man he adored in the place that was home. Danny broke into his thoughts, his voice with a clear smile in it.
“How’s it been going with Charlie, mate?” asked Danny. He was leaning back in his chair, knees wide. His suit coat was off, tie loosened, arms relaxed and draped over the chair.
Nick grinned back, unable to control the smile on his face. “It’s…it’s fucking incredible, mate,” he said, his whole chest warm and happy. He couldn’t believe he was here with Charlie. On a trip together. Even a month ago Nick never would have imagined how amazing his life could be at this moment. “He’s amazing. Likely, truly amazing, Danny.”
Danny’s smile was huge and infectious. He slapped the arm of the chair and leaned forward, beaming. “Now you know how I feel about that fucker all the time,” he said, jabbing his finger vaguely in the direction of where James was. “It’s so fucking brill to find someone who sets your heart and dick on fire. But like, the good kind of fire.”
Nick laughed. He went to make some sort of joke about Danny knowing about both kinds of dick-on-fire feelings, but then stopped. The friendly and funny innuendo had let a flurry of questions fly into his brain, questions about how Danny had navigated his first sexual experiences with men. He opened his mouth, hesitated. Danny was right here. Nick had a lot of wonders about literally everything, but especially around this whole top/bottom thing that had been on his mind for the last week. There would be a firm end time to this conversation with James and Charlie coming back, so Danny could only traumatise him so much, and nothing would be recorded in writing. He looked down, looked at Danny, licked his lips. “Actually,” he said slowly, eyes shifting away and then back to Danny again. “Can I ask you about…stuff?”
Danny’s eyes widened comically, though he made a valiant effort to press his lips together and try to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work, especially because he was literally bouncing in his chair. “Yes?” said Danny with a tilt of his head, the word coming out strangled and high-pitched in his fight for self-control.
Nick shook his head, blushing and laughing. “Go on. I know this is literally your dream.”
“IT’S MY DREAM,” repeated Danny as he spoke over the end of Nick’s sentence, beaming and shimmying his shoulders as he fell back in his chair. He sat back up and drew thumb and fingers together in front of his face like he was doing a factory reset on himself, visibly stilling and calming himself, though Nick could still see his foot bouncing excitedly. Danny picked up an imaginary phone and held it to his ear, putting on a polite phone voice. “Danny’s Buggering Consultancy, this is Danny, how can I ass-ist you today?”
Nick groaned and Danny laughed. “Buggering?” asked Nick. “Do people actually say that any more?”
“Only the wise and initiated,” said Danny with a grin.
Nick snorted, then sobered a little bit as he tried to consider what he was going to ask. He paused, trying to get the words out. “How do you, like - how do you decide what to do? Who does who, I mean? Like, how do you figure that out?”
“Oh that’s easy. We play ‘paper, scissors, cock’ for it.” Danny paused, grinning, Nick covering his face and laughing. Then Danny’s face softened, the smile becoming a little gentler, a little more serious. “Yeah, nah, mate, I know what you’re getting at.”
“Yeah,” said Nick, eyebrows furrowed. “Like - I feel like there’s stereotype stuff, you know? And…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit that there were some hesitations he felt around bottoming that had nothing to do with his feelings for Charlie and genuine desire to do everything with him. Things that felt like lurking shadows in his mind, ghosts of his brother and dad and former teammates who made cracks about poofters and getting fucked and all sorts of crude, toxic things.
Danny’s face was kind. “I know what you mean, mate.” He clapped his hands together. “So, when two boys love each other very very much sometimes they decide to celebrate that love and dishonour the good Christian suburbs by touching bums with each other. And you have to figure out who’s supplying the arse and who’s supplying the doodle when you touch bums.”
Nick shook his head and laughed. Danny’s after-school special would never pass any decency laws, but Danny did have a gift for making him comfortable. “Yeah,” he said. “So, like…how do you do that? Or like, how did you, in the early days when you were first figuring stuff out?”
Danny smiled at him, no judgement behind it. “I mean, I’m happy to tell you that,” he said. “But I had to figure out a lot of shit, and I had to unpack a lot of shit along the way to get to where I am now. So can I start with what I think now and then we can work backwards if you want?” Nick nodded and then Danny winked. “Pun intended, of course.” Nick laughed, and Danny joined him.
“That sounds good,” nodded Nick.
“What I eventually figured out is that it’s like going to a restaurant, you know?” Nick cocked his head and Danny went on. “At the end of the day, it’s what you’re in the mood for. Some people always want the same thing when they eat out, and if that’s you, then fair dinkum, mate. For a lot of other people, though, they don’t want to order the same thing every time. Sometimes you’ve been craving something for days and you know that’s the thing you’re going to order. Other times you realise in the moment what you want. I think it’s a bit boring to order the same thing all the time, you know?”
Nick laughed, a laugh of amazement at the way that Danny put it. “That - yeah. That makes a lot of sense,” he said. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Nick steeled himself and actually said the words instead of dancing around it, his voice low. “So you’ve, like, bottomed before?”
“Of course,” said Danny immediately, voice light and easy. “Some lads say they’re strictly one or the other, and some really are, I reckon.” He shrugged, grinning. “Me, I think life’s too short to have one kind of sex.” He looked at Nick frankly, face open. “There’s no position that makes you less of a man or more or less of a gay or anything like that. It’s about having some fucking fun.” He leaned in and grinned. “And I do mean that literally.”
Nick laughed. “Of course you do.” It was so stupid that one person normalising what they did was making an outsized impact, but it did. It truly did.
“You’ll eventually smash your back out and do the full monty, but don’t forget the other stuff,” cautioned Danny with a grin. “Don’t ignore the appetisers that you’re having right now. Rooting is a fucking fantastic entree, but sometimes you’ll still be in the mood for a gobby or whatever.” Nick didn’t know what a lot of those words meant, but he got the gist, nodding. “Truly, do what works for him and you, and that’s likely going to change, whether it’s daily or weekly or annually or whatever. Just talk about it with each other,” shrugged Danny. “Do what you need - invest in some grouse toys, get heaps of lube, get an enema kit you like, get-”
Nick’s voice was unintentionally louder than he meant for it to be, especially with James and Charlie lurking in the house nearby. “Enema?!”
Danny grinned wickedly at him. “Babycakes, if you’re going to do bum stuff, you’re going to do bum stuff, you know what I mean?”
Nick snorted and held up his hands. “Okay, fair. I get it. And yeah, okay, yes, I guess that was one of the things I read about. But, like talking with you about it…” he made a face and Danny laughed.
“I’m both honoured and offended, Nicky,” Danny said, beaming. “But seriously, mate, I’m here to talk about anything like this any time you want. We can text about it if it feels embarrassing to talk about it, or send letters via pigeon. They’ll be horrified little pigeons when they read about the things you and Charlie get up to, you filthy slags, but truly happy to talk whenever.” He smiled at Nick and Nick felt at ease, both glad that they had chatted and immensely glad that the conversation seemed to be wrapping up. Then Danny’s face lit up and Nick knew he was in trouble. “We can talk about this stuff, and I can give you tips!” Danny was nodding knowingly now, his eyebrows dancing excitedly. Nick held up his hands in beseeching protest but Danny barreled on, saying, “Let me tell you about this one thing I like to do with my hands and mouth that makes James absolutely squea-”
“Please don’t horrify our guests, baby,” said James, both Danny and Nick’s heads whipping around to see a half-amused, half-resigned James and a giggling Charlie, pink in the ears.
“I’m enlightening our guests, my picture-perfect penguin,” Danny volleyed back, winking at James.
James rolled his eyes and ruffled Danny’s hair. “Regardless, I think I’m heading to bed. NO,” he said firmly, raising a finger at Danny who had jumped up eagerly. “Bamban.”
Danny visibly drooped and sighed, nodding sadly. “Bamban.”
“Bamban,” Nick agreed, inclining his head along with Danny.
Charlie looked around at them, confused. “Is this a thing like a ruck or a maul or some other weird-arse rugby term?”
Nick laughed and blushed. “Oh - god. It’s so stupid. We had this, like - informal agreement among the team that I guess still carries over? The ‘bam’ part is for Before A Match - it’s a BAM sex ban, which we’ve just turned into bamban as a team. Everyone kind of unofficially agreed that there was no sex the night before a match.”
Charlie looked again at each of them, half-laughing. “Seriously?”
James grinned. “I know. It’s dumb, like Nick said. But some lad on the team like literally decades back said he played better if he was, like, pent-up and then the team went on a winning streak when a bunch of the players adopted it and…bamban,” he said, shrugging his shoulders resignedly.
“Does make for a killer shag after the match, though,” said Danny, palming James’s ass and making James yelp and playfully slap Danny’s hand away when he got a little too grope-y.
“And that’s our cue to go to bed, Charlie,” said Nick, Charlie laughingly agreeing. They said goodnight to Danny and James and went up to the guest room, which was tastefully decorated like most of the house (besides the single room where James and the interior designer had let Danny go mad).
Nick knew they wouldn’t be going too far that evening, not with sharing a place with Danny and James. But they had a hotel room after the match, and Nick couldn’t wait. Several days of waking up with Charlie, with no chores, no responsibilities - nothing to do except show Charlie how incredible he was and how lucky Nick was to have him in his life.
Charlie grinned at him after they got into bed, teeth brushed and hands already on each other’s bodies. Nick opened his mouth as Charlie leaned in to kiss him, their tongues soft and exploratory at first, then harder and with more passion. Charlie sucked Nick’s lower lip into his mouth and Nick groaned, half in the air and half in Charlie’s mouth, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
“So,” purred Charlie, tracing the tip of his nose along Nick’s neck and then stopping, his mouth beside Nick’s ear, making him shiver. “Sucks about the bamban for you.” He punctuated the sentence with a tug of Nick’s earlobe with his teeth the same time he pulled Nick’s hair, Nick’s head going to the side, neck exposed and aching for Charlie to touch it.
Nick tried to respond as Charlie climbed on top of him, hips on hips. Charlie’s mouth was travelling his neck now, soft, feather-light kisses mixed with sharper nips and gentle teeth. It was difficult when all of the blood in his body had left his brain. “I…don’t play any more,” he finally got out, exhaling each word in a shudder as Charlie worked his neck. “Perks of retirement.”
Nick could see Charlie’s grin before he gave Nick one more kiss and slid down his body, tugging Nick’s shorts down as he did. “Well, Mr Pensioner Nelson. Let’s see what it feels like to come before a match, then.”
Nick let out a shuddery, delicious breath as Charlie’s mouth enveloped him, warm and tight. He’d never been so happy to not play rugby.
-
The next day was bitterly cold, far colder than was predicted. Nick and Charlie ended up abandoning their plans to do much of any walking and instead snuggled in bed for hours, taking advantage of their arse-early body clocks from Lavender Fields. It was already a dream for Nick to spend morning cuddled together with Charlie with nowhere to go, and he still had three days left.
Nick snuck down to the kitchen to get coffee and tea for them, giving a quick hello to James and Danny and wishing them luck before they left. Nick knew from his playing days that most players wanted time on their own, and knew for a fact that Danny and James actually did their own separate mental prep on different floors of the house to get into the respective headspace that they needed before going to the stadium.
They eventually got dressed, Nick pilfering through the winter closet to gather extra layers for Charlie. They’d be sat directly behind the team and Nick knew from bitter experience (that was a good one, he’d tell Charlie once the wind started blowing during the match) how cold it was in that spot.
With a little extra time to kill, they drove to Cork and Café, a nearby coffee shop and breakfast spot that Nick loved. The owner was a woman named Meg, maybe in her mid-forties and a wonderful person. Nick was elated when they walked in and he saw her behind the counter, Meg blinking in surprise before her face lit up, jumping up from her stool and rushing around to hug Nick fiercely.
“Nick!” she said, rocking him back and forth as Nick laughed and hugged her back. “God, it’s been too long!”
“It’s so good to see you, Meg,” said Nick warmly. He had come to this cafe twice a week before training and nearly every home-match Sunday. Meg always made him something carb-heavy and healing when he was whining about a hangover from a rough night before, and only gave him minimal shit about his lack of constitution. “How’re the kids?”
“They’re great,” Meg replied, wiping her hands on her apron and flashing her lock screen at Nick and Charlie. It was a picture of two spotty rescue mutts, both of which had doggie grins at the camera.
“Oh, god, they’re so cute!” said Charlie, leaning in to look.
“Meg, this is Charlie,” said Nick, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “He’s my…” Nick paused for a half-second, unsure if he was allowed to introduce Charlie as his boyfriend. He wanted to, entirely, but figured that he should probably talk to Charlie about it first.
“I’m his friend,” Charlie finished quickly, and Nick frowned a little to himself before clearing his face. He knew he and Charlie joked about being mates, bros, friends, but Nick never wanted Charlie to feel like Nick was hiding him. That had no place this weekend. Still, this was tricky ground, and Nick didn’t want to have a real-time “determine the relationship” in front of Meg.
“Charlie’s been staying at Lavender Fields, the place that my mum keeps,” Nick explained, moving his hand to briefly rub Charlie’s back before dropping it. Charlie looked at him with bright eyes and Nick gave him a smile.
“That’s right,” said Meg, looking at Nick. “How have you been handling it? Customer service and hospitality are completely different from rugby, but I’m sure you’ve done well, you absolute doll.” She beamed at Nick and then turned to Charlie. “Is he a wonderful host?”
Charlie met Nick’s eyes and his smile filled up Nick’s whole chest. “The best,” he said simply, and Nick couldn’t fight the upturn in his lips.
Meg ushered them to a table and brought by her house chai lattes, something Nick had missed for literal months. Charlie murmured appreciatively when he took the first sip, his throat working. God, Nick already couldn’t wait to be alone with Charlie the days after the match, when it was just the two of them. He was so stupidly attracted to Charlie Elvira Spring, and told him that over their cheese scones and parfaits.
“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie said, laughing and playfully batting away Nick’s hand that was drifting towards his cheek when Nick said those words aloud.
“Seriously,” said Nick in a low voice. “I cannot believe I get to be with you.”
Charlie blushed and looked at Nick, shaking his head. “I literally think that every day.”
Nick flushed, his whole body sparkling with joy and pleasure. “You do?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Nick. Yes. I - literally every day that we wake up together I keep thinking that I made it up in my head.”
Nick gaped at him. “I feel the same way!”
Charlie giggled and dropped his head to the table. He turned it sideways and looked at Nick. “Why are we like this?”
Nick laughed, too, dropping his head to the table to meet Charlie’s gaze. “Just lucky I guess.” Nick saw Meg out of the corner of his eye and lifted his head, Charlie doing the same. “Meg, can I get the tab? We’re headed to the match.”
“Of course you can’t, darling. It’s on me.”
Nick and Charlie both protested, and Nick retaliated by buying the breakfasts of the tables around them and dropping a few notes in the employee tip jar. They headed out with Meg hugging both of them, giving Nick a smile that seemed to have a layer in it before he left.
“Your friend seems like a lovely lad,” she said quietly. “I’m sure you know there will be a lot of people eager to see you back at the match, yeah? Lots of eyes on you?”
Nick swallowed and nodded, looking at her. He had thought about that. And decided he didn’t give a fuck about that. He wanted to take Charlie to a match, and he wasn’t going to hide how he felt about Charlie just because some wankers might think they were due an opinion on it. He wasn’t going to say anything or doing anything openly affectionate, but he wasn’t going to act differently, either. He wasn’t going to maintain a polite, chilly distance during the match. It was a position of privilege that he felt safe enough to do that, both physically and in terms of his employment, Nick knew. He’d told Charlie what to expect; that there would be cameras on them and a lot of attention, and Charlie had said he was fine with it. “I do,” Nick said quietly to Meg, Charlie waiting out of earshot in the doorway. “I’m fine with people seeing…me.”
Meg gave his arm a squeeze and patted him on the cheek as he joined Charlie, the two of them waving. Nick drove Charlie’s car to the stadium, early enough to beat most of the mad rush. Nick stopped at the gate, the security guard Omari greeting him with a huge grin and salute.
“Good to see you back, King Nelson!” he bellowed as he lifted the gate and waved them in.
Charlie turned to Nick, his mouth already in a wide smile. “King Nelson?” he inquired, assuming a politely incredulous tone while trying - and failing - to mask the laughter in his voice.
Nick rolled his eyes. “It was from a few years ago,” he said, neck warm. “I had this tackle that popped the ball loose and then Shea and I converted it and…” He looked at Charlie, who was furiously typing on his phone. “Are you Googling me?! With me in the car?! That has to break some sort of Geneva Convention code!”
Charlie held up a picture of Nick, hoisted on the shoulders of the other lads. “This says that you converted the try during extra time with literal seconds left to keep you all in the Premiership League!” He glared at Nick in playful accusation, like Nick had purposefully hidden this from him.
“Well, yeah, I guess so,” said Nick.
Charlie shook his head. “Here I am with actual royalty,” he said looking at Nick in mock wonder. “And I haven’t even kissed your hand yet.”
Nick held out his hand primly, presenting the back of his hand towards Charlie’s mouth. “It’s not too late, peasant.”
Charlie laughed, and licked Nick’s knuckles instead. Nick exclaimed in false disgust and they were laughing as Nick pulled into one of the team spots.
The two of them bundled up tightly, Nick wrapping himself in a few extra layers. By the time Charlie finished dressing and adding layers, he looked like the kid brother from the movie A Christmas Story, the one who was so overdressed he couldn’t put his arms down.
Nick looked at him, lips pressed together in amusement. Charlie looked back. “What?”
“Nothing. Just I thought the Arctic already had been explored.”
Charlie huffed and tried to cross his arms, but couldn’t manage it with the layers of wool. “It’s cold!”
“It’s not the surface of the moon, Char.” Nick smiled and wrapped Charlie in a hug. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“When you’re dying of hypothermia in thirty minutes, don’t come crying to me,” Charlie warned. “Regardless, your tears will be frozen, so you’ll have trouble crying anyway.”
Nick chuckled, rubbing Charlie’s back to warm him as much as possible. They separated and Nick stepped back, raising a gloved hand to Charlie. “Ready?” he asked, gesturing towards the side door to the stadium.
Charlie looked at Nick’s hand and then back to his face. Nick never moved his hand or wavered. Charlie hesitantly reached out a mittened hand to take Nick’s. “Ready,” he said, voice tremulous, but sounding happy.
“Let’s go,” said Nick, badging in and holding open the door.
It was time for some rugby.
Notes:
Blueberry Swirl Muffins
Lemon Sugar Topping:
⅓ c sugar
1 ½ tsp lemon zestIn a small bowl, combine the sugar and the lemon zest. Massage them together with your fingers until they’re well-combined. Cover and set aside for later.
Blueberry compote:
1 c fresh or frozen blueberries
1 tsp sugarPut the blueberries and sugar in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. As the mixture starts to sizzle, mash the berries and sugar together. Bring to a simmer and cook for 5-6 minutes, continuing to mash the berries. When thickened, move the mixture from the saucepan to a bowl and set it aside to cool, or refrigerate overnight.
Muffins:
1 c fresh or frozen blueberries
1 c sugar
2 ½ c flour
2 ½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
4 Tbsp butter, melted
¼ c oil
1 c buttermilk or ¾ c plain yoghourt + ¼ c milk
1 ½ tsp vanillaPlace an oven rack in the upper-middle position and preheat the oven to 425F. Spray a 12-cup muffin tin with baking spray.
In a large bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt and set aside. Separately, whisk the eggs and sugar until thick and pal, then whisk in the butter and oil, then the buttermilk and vanilla. Add the wet ingredient to the dry ingredients, mixing until just combined and lumpy. Fold in the blueberries.Fill the muffin tins ¾ of the way full. Drop 1 teaspoon of blueberry compote on top of each muffin. Use a chopstick to make a figure 8 twice, swirling the compote on the top of the muffin. Sprinkle the top with lemon sugar and bake for 18 - 20 minutes, rotating the muffin tin around 9 minutes. Cool for 10 minutes on a wire rack before removing from the pan.
Chapter 25: Badgers
Summary:
Last Time: The boys continue to bond at Lavender Fields, and head to Leeds for a match.
This Time: Charlie sees his first live match. They spend the evening with the team.
Notes:
This fic is essentially the story of The Ugly Duckling, where it's a gangly little thing until waveofyou and NellieSayzBork get their hands on it. You know, except the parts where that story is actually a horrible metaphor. Also, swans (and geese) are terrifying and evil. Regardless, they give this fic the makeover she deserves so she can step out in public looking her sassy best. Wavey and Bea are writing (and illustrating!) The Write-Up, which continues to be spectacular. NSB is writing As You Are - if you are not reading, stop, look in the mirror, and have a gentle talk with yourself.
BeezusRed continues to slay with another hilarious install of the cows talking about Nick and Charlie: Travel Moo-sings. I adore you, friend!
There is still a lot to come in terms of healing and communication for these wonderful boys!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick immediately regretted how overdressed he was when they walked into Badgers stadium and started pulling off layers, letting go of Charlie’s hand to do so.
“Stripping down so soon, Innkeeper Nelson?” asked Charlie teasingly. “I’m honoured, but not in your place of employment.”
Nick snorted, then whined as he tried to get off another layer. “I’m so hot.”
“Yes you are!” came a cheerful voice from down the hall. Nick paused in his wrestle with his thick sweater to see Imogen walking towards him, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Immy!” Nick said fondly, striding over and hugging her. “Imogen, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Imogen, she heads up the Badgers PR arm and is fantastic.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Imogen, beaming at Charlie and hugging him, too. “How do you know Nick?”
Charlie blinked, then smiled warmly at Imogen. “We’ve been friends for a bit; I’ve been staying at Lavender Fields while my flat gets fixed up.”
“That’s nice,” said Imogen, giving Nick a warm look which he tried to return. Friends. We’ve been friends for a bit. Nick really hated the sound of that. Though Nick realised that as the PR agent for the team, he probably needed to give Imogen some sort of heads’ up about him and Charlie - once he and Charlie even talked about what they were. Nick was sure that there would be some sort of hubbub about him dating a man (he hoped they were dating - and that they were boyfriends), and he figured that Coach Croft would need to know, too, since Nick would be a part of the Badgers again in just five months. Telling her now, though - that seemed like a ‘counting his chickens before they hatched’ thing. Nick didn’t know where Charlie stood on the whole dating/boyfriends thing, and just like with Meg at the coffee shop, he didn’t want to force Charlie to have a ‘determine the relationship’ in front of anyone else. Nick felt a little twist in his gut; he should have talked with Charlie about all of this earlier. In the protection of Lavender Fields, he hadn’t felt the need to have conversations about anything like that yet, not when they’d been together for three weeks. This felt…different. They were in the real world now.
Imogen and Charlie were chatting as Nick spaced out a bit, and he refocused when Immy turned to him. “Are you all set for your seats and everything like that?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah,” grinned Nick, settling back into his body. “Erin got us all figured out.”
“Great,” Imogen said, patting him on the arm. “I need to run and manage the media hordes, I’ll see you two out tonight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick with a smile at Imogen, Charlie nodding too. “We’ll see you later.”
Nick took Charlie on a tour of the stadium, avoiding the changing room so as not to distract the team before the match, but showing him everything else. They stopped by the workout room, team kitchen, video room, and media pen, and then ended up outside the physio offices, one door shut and the other open. Nick showed Charlie inside the open one, pulling the door from its latch. He sighed wistfully as he hopped on the table almost by habit, looking around. The door shut behind them slowly, the air-cushioned piston letting it mostly close, with just a sliver remaining open.
“I spent a lot of hours in here my last couple seasons,” Nick said, looking at the familiar walls. “Knee, back - all types of stuff the last few years I played.”
“Yeah?” said Charlie softly, looking at Nick, his face creased with concern. “Do you…how does it feel to be back here?”
Nick nodded before responding. “It feels…well, it was the right time,” he said honestly. “I miss it, but it feels like a different chapter. When I come back, I’ll be with the team, not on it. And I think that’s where I’m meant to be right now.”
Nick saw the worry on Charlie’s face melt away at his answer. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, smiling at Charlie. He really meant it. “I miss it. I mean, I miss it a lot. I miss the fun and challenge and routine of it, but then, being at Lavender Fields has given me some of that back, the routine part at least.” He paused. “And being there means I met you.”
Charlie flushed and drifted a little closer to Nick. He grinned. “Are you sure it’s not just the cows? And the chance to bake things for people?”
Nick chuckled. “I like those parts too.”
Charlie moved a little closer again, touching Nick’s arm. “And you also get to still use these strong rugby arms,” he said, voice teasing in the way that made flutters erupt in Nick’s belly. “Throwing down hay for the cows…”
“Throwing someone down on the bed,” Nick purred over Charlie, the smile on his face turning a little more sultry now.
Charlie sniffed out a laugh through his nose and moved even closer. “Still, back in this room,” mused Charlie. “I bet you came in here when you needed to get some knot worked out of a muscle.” He gave Nick a saucy look. “Reckon you need some…work?” Charlie hit the “k” sound crisply, making Nick flush with heat and pleasure.
Nick let out a shaky, eager breath, a half-laugh and half-shiver. “I do,” he whispered roughly. He pulled Charlie towards him so that Charlie was tucked between his thighs, their bodies close together. “I’m so terribly injured. I have this knot right on my inner thigh, really high, maybe you can work it out for-”
“You horny little monsters!” came a delighted voice from the door, and Charlie sprang back from Nick like he was burned. Nick’s heart rate shot up for a minute before it was clear that it was Amy, her grin bright. “No sex in my physio rooms, none!” Nick laughed, utterly relieved. God, that had been close.
“Like you never have,” grinned Charlie, the colour slowly returning back to his face when he saw that it was Amy and no one else, though Nick could see his hands shaking.
“Of course she hasn’t,” scoffed Nick, recovering from the scare. “No one would actually hook up in the physio rooms.”
“Right. She….hasn’t. No one would do that,” said Amy in a stiff, false voice. Nick frowned and Charlie stifled a giggle. “I have to run, I was just checking in with Stig in the other room before the match. See you two after?”
“See you then, good luck,” said Nick, Charlie echoing the sentiment. Charlie was quieter as they walked to their seats, Nick occasionally pausing to greet various people as they exclaimed when they saw him. Charlie was kind and conversational as always, consistently introducing himself as Nick’s friend, something that continued to dig away like a dull spoon at Nick’s middle. Despite his outwardly warm appearance, Nick could feel how tense Charlie was, and he thought for a moment how stupid it had been to flirt like that with Charlie in the physio room. He had taken Charlie’s hand in the parking lot as they went in, he had acted recklessly in the physio room - he was so used to being at Lavender Fields, in the protective, warm, comfortable bubble they were used to. At Lavender Fields there were closed doors and privacy, no eyes watching them. Here, they were in public.
Nick had an idea in his head of how he had wanted to act with Charlie at the match. He wanted to go in, fearless and unafraid of who he was and who Charlie was to him. Nick wanted that for himself, but he also wanted that for Charlie. He wanted Charlie to see how important he was to Nick, and that Nick wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed of Charlie. He was proud, stunned, amazed, floored that he was the person who got to stand beside Charlie and hold his hand. But now, in the gritty reality away from Lavender Fields, the sobering heaviness hit Nick - that attention on him was attention on Charlie, too. Nick felt pulled between wanting to show how he felt about Charlie openly and with abandon, but there would be eyes watching them. Here, there would be eyes on Nick. Nick was used to that, but this would be entirely new for Charlie.
That had been a major point of growth for Nick when he played. He had cared so much about what was said about him online and in the media, especially when he first started playing. Every time there was a scathing article about how overrated Nick was as a player, he read it in David’s voice. Whenever there was a pundit loudly delighting in every mistake Nick had made in a game, he couldn’t help but picture the words coming from his dad’s face. And then there were the faceless hordes on social media, people who felt entitled to an opinion just because Nick was a public figure. People who called him stupid or terrible or an idiot or worse. It wasn’t personal. It couldn’t be; they didn’t know him. But Nick had been affected by it so much that he ended up doing a few sessions with the team psychologist, Lucy.
Lucy had helped Nick work through the position of being in a public role with people who thought they had parasocial relationships with him, or even just people who felt the right to comment on him and his life. She’d underscored the need for strong support systems and for Nick to have self-value determined by himself, not other people. He still worked on that one, of course, but having the knowledge that the team had his back fundamentally changed his perspective. He’d heard the whole, “those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter”, but had learned to truly live it during his last few years of play.
Nick was used to the attention, the articles, the quick rinse-lather-repeat cycle of blogs and stories that popped up on him and other players whenever something happened. It could be intense and depersonalising and overwhelming at first, and Nick didn’t want Charlie to have to experience that. Charlie had said he was okay with being on camera when Nick warned him about the attention, but Nick also knew it would be very different if there were pictures of them snogging or, god forbid, engaged in things on the physio table. While Nick wasn’t going to temper himself and not pay attention to Charlie for an entire afternoon, he didn’t want Charlie to get bombarded with attention during his first true public outing with Nick. The moment in the physio room was a reminder that Nick needed to keep Charlie at the forefront of his mind with every interaction. It wasn’t just about him.
Nick wanted to be with Charlie, and being with him meant being close, touching, being affectionate, not pretending they were strangers. Nick didn’t want to hide how he felt for Charlie, and he wanted that to be clear to the gorgeous man beside him. Just maybe not so…overtly. Not in a way that would draw too much scrutiny or focus on Charlie. Nick wouldn’t be cold, but he wouldn’t be the way he truly wanted to be. Not until they had…talked more. They probably needed to talk more about a lot of this. God, it would be so much easier to just snog more about it instead.
Both Nick and Charlie were quieter as they headed to their seats, Nick roiling with the tension of wanting Charlie to know how amazing and wanted he was while not wanting to cause undue stir and have Charlie be subject to scrutiny. They sat in their prime seats, right behind the Badgers, all of whom were out on the field. Nick exchanged fist-bumps with the team staff on the bench, all of them grinning and nodding at each other. The crowd roared when Nick’s face was shown on the screen, Nick raising a wave to the camera. Nick could spot Charlie’s face on the screen, smiling nervously and leaning fractionally away from Nick.
Once the camera was off them, Charlie turned to Nick and spoke quietly. “You really are going to be shown a lot, huh?”
Nick nodded, looking at Charlie. “I am. We are.”
“Oh,” said Charlie. He looked away, then back at Nick, then dropped his gaze again. “Are you …Do you…” he trailed off, looking at Nick, then back at his own lap, and finally at Nick again, not finishing his question.
“Nope,” said Nick firmly. “I don’t care. I’m not worried. I’m here with you, Char. And anyone is welcome to see that.” He linked his arm in Charlie’s for a moment, hooking their elbows together, their arms hidden by their large coats and camouflaged by similar charcoal hues. He gave Charlie a quick squeeze before pulling his arm back. It wasn’t openly intimate or affectionate, but it was a connection, a grounding. Something to show Charlie that Nick was there with him, in every way. Nick’s heart sped up as he tried to summarise what he had been pondering for the last few minutes, his heart taking a while to settle down from the scare earlier. “As long as you’re still okay with it. I’m happy to do whatever makes you comfortable. I won’t paw you.” Here, Nick looked at Charlie with a cartoonishly sad face. ”But I’m not going to avoid you, either. Again, if you’re okay with that.”
Nick glanced over at Charlie, whose face had transformed. A minute ago he was withdrawn into himself, unsure and anxious. Now it was like Charlie was filled with light, the corners of his mouth tugging up. Nick wanted to kiss Charlie’s perfect mouth. “Oh,” was all Charlie said again, but this time, Nick heard the smile in his voice, too. “I’m…yeah. I’m definitely…okay with that.”
“Let’s watch some rugby, yeah?” said Nick.
So they did.
The teams came out, and there were massive cheers as each Badgers player was announced, with Danny easily getting the loudest cheer of all. Nick grinned at that; Danny predictably knew how to work the crowd and the media, and there were more Turner shirts sold than any other player’s. Despite the chilly reception for the Sale Sharks, Nick was pleased to hear that there were cheers for Seamus when he came out, giving a quick wave to his former home stadium. Nick was shown on the screen again, too, and another cheer rose, making Charlie grin and give him a saucy look once the camera was off of them again.
The Badgers opened with an unfortunate error that handed Sale a scrum feed on the Badgers’ 22-yard line, which was converted to a try within a minute. Nick groaned and gripped Charlie’s arm, leaning backwards in dismay.
“Oh, no,” said Charlie earnestly, cursing and imitating Nick, sinking back in disappointment in his seat. Despite his annoyance at the play, Nick felt a warm rush of affection and an indescribable feeling of being home seeing Charlie here with him, so invested in the match.
Five minutes into the match, Wilco showed up solo, explaining that Annette and the kids had opted to stay inside and watch from a warm building, not feeling the need when it was, “il fait un froid de canard”, as Annette had put it. Nick replied laughingly in French and felt Charlie’s body momentarily tighten up when he did, but by the time Nick looked over, Charlie had turned his face away. All Nick saw were the edges of Charlie’s ears, pink beneath his warm knit hat.
Nick and Charlie chatted throughout the phases, both between the two of them and with Wilco as well. Nick was delighted to hear Charlie asking questions and wondering things, and occasionally pointing out things he saw, even if he didn’t have the words quite right.
The Badgers were able to battle back with a try of their own just a few minutes later, James muscling through on a neat pass from Fitzy. The crowd roared in celebration, and Nick caught a glimpse of himself on the stadium screen, exchanging hugs with Wilco and Charlie, among other people that he knew in the section. The team surged together to celebrate too, Danny hugging James quickly from behind, slapping his shoulders and whooping. The Badgers scored again a few minutes later, the crowd (and Nick and Charlie and Wilco) going mad. This time it was Tex, his legs moving incredibly fast. He was tall and once he got moving, it was a thing of beauty to watch him run.
Unfortunately, things broke down a bit after that. The Badgers were penalised for back-to-back infringements at the breakdown, on their own line. That gave the ball to Sale, Seamus bulling his way forward with several other Sale players and converting the try. It was a mix of boos, with a few weak cheers that at least it was Seamus scoring on the Badgers, if it had to be any Sale player. Seamus had been popular when he played. During another phase, Lunker knocked-on while on defence, which was deemed intentional. That left the Badgers down a player for the next ten minutes, which ended up stretching into the second half, the match even at 14-all.
Charlie excused himself to go inside to the loo and to warm up, and Nick squeezed his arm as he passed, Charlie looking at him with a smile that made Nick’s whole body feel warm despite the cold.
Nick noticed a few members of the media milling about near their section, and he gave a polite but dismissive wave to indicate that he wasn’t up for chatting, which was fortunately respected. Wilco leaned over. “All right, mate?”
“All right,” said Nick with a grin.
“Good to see Charlie back,” said Wilco with a sparkle in his eyes. “You two getting on then?”
Nick grinned again, shaking his head resignedly. “Danny told you, didn’t he?”
Wilco laughed. “Do you think there’s any chance Danny Turner would be able to not gush about the two of you?”
Nick joined in, chuckling along with Wilco. “Nope. Surprising since he’s usually so demure.”
Wilco snorted. “Annette will be delighted to see him.”
“Oh, is she joining tonight then?”
“Of course, she’d never miss seeing one of her adopted children,” Wilco said with a grin and a nudge. Nick blushed a little. It was true; the Wilcox family had been like a second family to him. Wilco in particular had often filled in for the parts of a father that Nick hadn’t had. Nick would have been a little embarrassed to admit that to Wilco, especially as Wilco was only nine years older than him, but Nick knew it was true. Nick tried to show Wilco how much he appreciated the care and support he gave Nick and the other lads on the team by passing that same kindness and care on to Wilco’s kids, supporting them every chance he got. He loved going to their sports and school events; it always made his heart ache with fondness. “She looooves her chouchou Nick.” Wilco punctuated that with a tickle at Nick’s chin like Nick was a child, Nick laughing and swatting away his hand.
When Wilco spoke again, it was a little quieter, private for the two of them. “Oi, let me know if you need anything, yeah? If there’s any - questions or anything. I’m happy to talk to anyone where it might be helpful. You two deserve to just live; let me know if anything gets in the way of that.”
“Thanks, Wilco,” Nick said quietly. Wilco clapped him on the back as Charlie came back, both of them rising to make space to let him in.
Nick gave Charlie a quick touch between his shoulders as he made his way back in, face pink and warm from being inside. Nick wanted to put his cheek against Charlie’s and feel the softness of his face on Nick’s, warming each other skin to skin, the way Nick craved being with Charlie. Instead, he settled for a quick nudge against Charlie’s shoulder once the match kicked off, their bodies only slightly heated by the too-quick contact between them.
The second half was a trading of tries, Sale striking first, with the Badgers fighting back as best they could. Sale scored again before the Badgers could volley back with any points of their own, but sadly, their resurgence was too late and the match ended with Sale up by 7 points, the crowd groaning in collective sadness.
Nick flopped back in his chair and Wilco shook his head and cursed. Charlie looked at both of them, his eyes nervous. “What happens now?” he asked quietly.
“We give them a bit,” said Nick grimly. “That was a tough loss.”
“Yeah, that was shite,” groused Wilco. “They need you there to give the player perspective, Nick; it’ll make such a difference with you on the bench next year.”
Nick’s chest filled with pride and he just nodded, though inside, he felt like he’d been given the biggest compliment of his life. The three men waited out a majority of the fans’ exodus before they made their way inside, escorted by security guards until they were in the back part of the stadium, accessible only to team staff. They didn’t stay long, waving a quick hello to the players who all looked downcast, then saying goodbye to Wilco, who said he would see them later. Nick pushed past a throng of reporters and media on the way to the car park, calling out hellos to people he knew. He smiled politely and repeated that he was just there as a fan, guiding Charlie by the elbow to get him through the crush.
They opened the door that led to the car park and Charlie let out a huge breath. “God, that’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, sighing. “I don’t miss that part as much. You get used to it, at least to a degree, but it’s never easy to do that whole junket. And just to have so much attention on you, you know?”
Charlie opened his mouth like he was going to say something, eyebrows knitted together, but then stopped. Nick looked over and Charlie’s face had shifted, back to his easy self. Nick knew he probably needed to bring up the whole “public” thing, but that opened the door to the whole boyfriends thing and that…that felt intimidating. It had been three weeks. Three. And Charlie had been engaged just four months ago. Nick felt a little frustrated with himself as he opened the car door for him and drove, guiding Charlie’s car back to Danny and James’s, making a few stops along the way.
They spent the next hour thoroughly warming themselves, stripping off their clothes and getting under the covers of the guest bedroom together. They didn’t do much, hyperware that Danny and James could be back any time. Nick didn’t really care that they didn’t. He was finally able to touch Charlie the way he wanted to, press their skin together and wrap his arms tightly around the gorgeous, curly-haired god who somehow agreed to get in bed with him. Danny was polite enough to send a message to their four-person group chat that he and James were ten minutes out, which gave them enough time to slowly get out of bed, shower quickly together (for the planet), and change.
Nick and Charlie headed downstairs right as the door was opening, Danny and James coming in.
“I’m completely miserable, San Diego,” Danny bellowed, throwing his bag in the corner and slumping into a chair. Nick gave a half-grin; that Anchorman line was the one that Danny always went to after a gutting loss. “The mutual pity-shag in the car after helped, but this still sucks.”
James went a little red in the face at that, shaking his head and grabbing Danny’s bag and his own, bringing them upstairs and mumbling about not horrifying their new friend Charlie so he’d never come back to Leeds. He came back downstairs in a minute, dropping into one of the other armchairs and taking a similarly dejected position as Danny.
There was a moment of silence before Charlie hesitantly pulled out and held up a silvery bag of wine that he and Nick had gotten at the shop. “We got…goon?” he said in a questioning tone, Nick confirming with a nod that he’d gotten the Aussie slang right.
Danny sat up in his chair like a mummy rising from the dead, looking at Charlie with massive eyes. “Charlie. Fucking. Cuntrocket. Spring. You FUCKING legend. Let’s go!”
Charlie squeaked as Danny was seemingly ejected from the chair, bounding up and slapping the bag of goon. That set off a riot of drinking, all of them unintentionally sloshed by the time they headed out, the game of “wine-pong” not helping. Nick loved the fact that it was just the four of them, and he and Charlie could be as handsy as they wanted, Danny beaming at every small display of PDA like it was personally feeding his soul. They had gotten both a bag of red wine and one of white, and at one point Danny was going around batting the others on the head with the white one, claiming it was “Sauvignon Bonk”.
That continued in the car, Nick briefly pulling away from an intense makeout session to see James and Danny doing the same on their seat row of the Uber XL. He grinned and leaned back to kiss Charlie again, Charlie’s arms pulling him down so they were nearly horizontal on the seat. Thank god it was James’s phone that booked the ride; he could manage the inevitably low passenger star rating.
They arrived at The View, a local bar that the Badgers had a long history with. The bar treated the team well, always partitioning off a section of the rooftop for the team to have as a private area, just for them and the people that they invited. The team in return consumed somewhere north of ten million drinks and brought a huge amount of attention to The View.
There was a massive cheer when the four of them came in, several of the lads immediately seizing Nick round the shoulders and pressing drinks into his hand. Nick looked around wildly for Charlie, who was arm in arm with Amy, pulled right into a conversation with her, Imogen, and Seamus. Charlie was already laughing and leaning against Imogen, and Nick grinned. He loved seeing Charlie seem so at home here with everyone he loved in Leeds.
Still, Nick made his way over to Charlie within minutes, and that was where he stayed. He just wanted to be near Charlie. Charlie seemed again to be acutely aware of how he was acting around Nick, but once he seemed to realise that Nick didn’t want to be anywhere else, he relaxed into it. Nick would occasionally put his arm round Charlie or touch his back gently, and while it was nice to have those moments, he couldn’t wait to be back at Danny and James’s, where it would just be the team, no curious public who occasionally strained to snap what had to be grainy iPhone pictures of the team from their roped-off area.
No one on the team asked any questions beyond how Nick and Charlie knew each other, and Nick laughed loud and long throughout the evening. Charlie was able to meet everyone - Lunker, Stig, Lucas, Will, Fitzy - all of the lads that Nick had spent the majority of the last five years with. Nick’s heart was near bursting with joy as Charlie was pulled into conversations with the lads all evening, all of them seeming to genuinely be interested in talking to him. Nick had to giggle to himself to see Charlie standing next to Stig. Stig was already close to double the size of some of the other lads on the team, and he positively towered over Charlie. They were both gesturing grandly, talking about their favourite books. It made Nick smile to see two men of such different backgrounds and statures enthusing to each other about the YA novels from their childhood that still stuck with them.
They stayed close to one another, but not touching each other the way Nick wanted to, the way he had been craving all day, still aware of the non-team members on the rooftop. As great as it was to be back at The View, Nick was relieved when they got back to Danny and James’s. It wasn’t quiet by any means - any place that Danny was inside of was never quiet - but when they were there, it was just them, just the team and the people close to them. There were no strangers watching, no one to judge them. While most of the team didn’t officially know anything was going on between Nick and Charlie, Nick found that he just…didn’t care. He was so happy to be able to finally touch Charlie the way he wanted. Both he and Charlie had kept drinking, too, and Nick, always an affectionate drunk, could not keep his hands off of Charlie.
Charlie didn’t seem to mind.
They were together at Danny and James’s house, about twenty other people surrounding them. All of them were people Nick knew, loved, and trusted, and Nick got more and more comfortable being openly affectionate with Charlie. They were sitting on the couch next to each other, Nick’s hand resting along the inside of Charlie’s leg as Charlie leaned back laughing at Lunker’s Nick Nelson impression. They were standing close during a game of flip cup, Nick hugging Charlie from behind before the round started. They were sitting on the kitchen counter as Danny, Amy, Lucas, and Annette danced around the kitchen, ankles hooked together. Nick was aglow, flushed with affection and joy to be in this place, with these people - and mostly, with Charlie.
Around two in the morning, Nick and Charlie were pressed together in the living room, the group all dancing to a remix of Whitney Houston’s “It’s Not Right”. The music was loud, the crowd was loud, it was all loud. Nick’s eyes were alternating between open and closed as he danced, drunk enough to not be self-conscious about his moves - which meant he was very drunk. He stepped away on a turn-step for a moment, and then looked at Charlie. Danny (of course) had a rotating disco ball that he turned on, and the light struck Charlie just right at that moment. Charlie looked like he was glittering, sparkles of light and vibrancy. He was wholeness, beauty, ease, and sexiness personified, and Nick was momentarily staggered by the idea that he got to be with Charlie.
He frowned a little to himself, swaying as he regained his footing from the dancing. Was he with Charlie? Charlie had told Meg he was Nick’s friend. He’d told several people at the stadium that. He’d told everyone that. Nick was a friend, Charlie was Nick’s friend, they were friends. Good friends. Nick didn’t want to be friends.
Nick stumbled closer to Charlie, sliding his hands around Charlie’s waist. Charlie smiled back at him, his face looking a little bleary, a visual representation of how fuzzy Nick’s brain was feeling. Somewhere Nick thought that maybe he shouldn’t have this conversation now, plastered, but the inexpensive bagged wine and ten-thousand cocktails had spoken, and they were insisting that this was the right time to talk. Who was Nick to argue with alcohol?
“I don’t want to be friends,” Nick blurted out, Charlie blinking and looking like it was taking a minute for words to reach his brain, cocking his head. Nick pulled Charlie closer and slid his hands up Charlie’s torso and to his arms, linking Charlie’s arms around his own neck. “I like you, Charlie,” he said, half-shouting to be heard over the music. “I like you so much.”
Charlie closed his eyes and smiled, looking giddy and punch-drunk. He leaned forward and rested his cheek on Nick’s chest for a moment. Nick was glowing, with Charlie in his arms like this, in sort-of public. “I like you too, so much. So, so, sooooo much,” he said, burying his face into Nick’s neck, making Nick flush pleasurably.
“I like touching you,” Nick bellowed over the bass. “I missed doing it all day. I just wanted to kiss you all day.”
“I wanted to kiss you too,” said Charlie loudly, turning to look up at Nick’s face.
“I don’t want you to be my friend,” repeated Nick. “I want you to be my boyfriend,” he said, half-yelling, the music and laughter loud in the background. “Can you be my boyfriend? I want to be boyfriends. Are we boyfriends?”
Charlie looked up and gasped, his face looking like a caricature of shock. “Oh my god, Nick, is that a real question?”
Nick was frozen for a moment, his brain not able to work fast enough. “Uh…yes?” He was suddenly worried - no, terrified. He could feel his palms sweating. He had been having the best moment of his life ever and now this was the worst moment of his life ever. It was all definitely real. None of it was drunkenly-induced panic.
Charlie launched himself at Nick, kissing Nick sloppily on the mouth, only hitting part of it. Nick didn’t care; he was melting, deliriously happy that Charlie had kissed him for the first time in what felt like decades. “I want that sooooo badly,” Charlie said, pulling fistfuls of Nick’s shirt, eyes wide and slurring just a touch. “I want to be boyfriends with you!”
“You do?!”
“Oh my god Nick, I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for years!”
Nick started giggling and it felt impossible to stop. “Char, we only met in Septemember.” He frowned. That didn’t seem right. “Sep-tem-ber,” Nick said with some effort, trying again.
Charlie giggled, too. “That’s a tiny detail.” He held up his thumb and forefinger with the tiniest space between them.
“God, Charlie,” said Nick. He was elated. He was on air. He was hammered. “I - you…god, you’re amazing.” He ran his fingers though Charlie’s hair, the brown curls cascading. “I love your hair,” Nick said, shaking his head in amazement, then looking at Charlie’s gorgeous blue eyes. “I love your eyes,” he said loudly, over the music, Charlie leaning forward to press another kiss on Nick, both of them fumbling at each other. “I love…” Nick blinked, and had a sudden, terrifying moment of clarity. Easy, Nick. You are very drunk. “I love this song. Will you dance with me?”
“I will dance with you, Nick Nelson,” said Charlie, a slight slur to his words. “I will always dance with you.”
Nick’s memories after that were a blur of colour and music, of people and hugs, and of Charlie. Always, always, always Charlie.
-
The next morning was brutal.
Nick opened his eyes a crack, immediately moaning at the light streaming in through the window. He sighed and slowly rolled onto his stomach to bury his face in the pillow, not yet ready to face the day. The loss had been a shitty way to start the night, but the rest of it had been a blast. Nick loved getting to be with Charlie in Leeds. It was just as comfortable and grounding as it was to be together at Lavender Fields, but with the bonus of being out in the world, where Nick’s friends and familiar faces were, too. He smiled to himself even with the roiling headache he had, his mouth dry. The smile faded quickly when he moved, every cell queasy, even the ones in his feet somehow. The night had been amazing, but there was something that niggled there in his brain, some small regret he had. He couldn’t quite place it, his memories of the evening before fuzzy when it got to the specifics.
Nick patted blindly around the bed and realised with a start that Charlie wasn’t there.
“Char?” he asked, attempting to sit up and then immediately flopping back down, the change in gravity a horrific mistake. He was answered by a retching noise from the en-suite. Nick groaned as he got out of bed, padding to the toilet and crouching by Charlie, who looked pale and exhausted. “Oh, Char. Are you okay?”
Charlie hung on the edge of the toilet, flushed it, and gave a weak thumb’s up. Nick chuckled, but then regretted it immediately, the motion of his stomach making his nausea increase by a factor of ten. “Ugh,” mumbled Charlie. “Don’t look at me. This is so embarrassing.”
“No, what’s embarrassing is saying that I can’t drink like I did in my twenties and then proceeding to drink exactly like I was in my twenties,” said Nick, sliding down to sit next to Charlie, rubbing his back and leaning his head against the wall. “Do you want some water?”
Charlie nodded his head and Nick heaved himself up to get a glass. Charlie took it and took a few tentative sips, wincing and setting it down. “Is this hell?”
“Yes,” said Nick, covering his eyes and rubbing his face. “And hell has the brightest fucking overhead lighting I have ever seen.”
It took them over an hour to work their way downstairs, managing weak greetings to Amy and Seamus once the two of them oozed down a few minutes after them. They all grumbled and glared when Danny came down the stairs, loudly singing. Seamus threw a pillow at him, dropping his head back in devastation when he missed and Danny just grinned, singing louder and now with direct eye contact at each of them in turn.
“Jaaaaaames,” called Amy miserably, spotting him on the stairs. “Make Danny shut up.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried,” said James, looking like how all of them felt, gripping the handrail as he made his way down the stairs, legs a bit wobbly.
“There’s one way you know to shut me up,” Danny said to James as the two of them found a spot on the couch, James cuddling into Danny’s chest. He waggled his eyebrows. “And it really sucks for you. Ha ha. Blowjobs.”
There was a collective groan at that, several pillows hitting Danny this time. He laughed and stood up, raising his fists to the sky. “I am nourished by your boos!” James whined and pulled him back down, and Danny settled in, laughing and tucking together with James.
“Turner, how are you okay?” demanded Seamus. “You went just as hard as all of us last night.”
“Oh, I threw up in the shower this morning,” said Danny cheerfully. “Felt much better after that.”
James and Seamus put together a food order for everyone, half-mumbled requests coming from every prone person in the room. After some breakfast sandwiches, coffee, episodes of GBBO in the background, and time, all of them were starting to perk up by the early afternoon. Regan and Tex had come by from their place to join everyone, and Lunker and Emma came over to join the rest of the group. They all talked and laughed, exchanging stories and rinsing each other from the night before. Emma and Charlie laughed together about some memory from The View and Nick smiled, half-listening to their conversation.
Nick was enjoying himself despite the rough start, tucked close with Charlie. Nick was sitting with his back against the arm of the couch, legs wide. Charlie sat between his legs, Nick’s arms around Charlie. Nick had caught Charlie’s eyes darting around at the room when they had gotten in that position and also looked at Nick, but no one had said a word. Their phones were on the couch beside them, and Charlie’s lit up with an alert.
“Oh, shit, this is my reminder to myself to call the flat people back,” he said to Nick. “There was no time to do it yesterday, and I think they only work certain hours on the weekend, I’m assuming.” He moved to get up and Nick wrapped his legs around Charlie’s waist.
“No,” said Nick firmly. “You are my heat source. And comfort object. No leaving allowed, sorry.”
Charlie laughed, pretending to struggle against Nick’s legs. He turned slowly to look at Nick, eyebrow raising. Charlie touched Nick’s thigh, almost dreamily. “These are…you are strong,” he said in an exhale, colour rising a bit.
Nick snorted and grinned. “I eat my vegetables,” he said, dead chuffed that Charlie thought his legs were strong.
“Fine,” said Charlie, flopping back. “I’ll call them from here.” He opened his phone and tapped the contact labelled as Flat people - Emily. Nick half-listened as the phone rang, no one answering. Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed Amy’s phone light up, buzzing next to her. She gave it a quick glance and silenced it, turning to talk to Seamus. Charlie left a voicemail and Amy’s phone lit up again. This time she took the phone and slipped it into her pocket. Nick didn’t know if he was picking up on a quick glance in his direction or not; if it was, she did it nearly too quickly to see. He frowned a little to himself.
“I’ll try the guy, too - Boris,” said Charlie, calling Flat people - Boris. There was no answer again, and Nick could have sworn that he saw Danny’s Apple watch light up, though Danny turned his wrist over too quickly for him to be sure. Nick’s frown deepened, but he was distracted when Charlie left another message and then turned to snuggle into Nick’s chest. Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie and eventually drifted off into a deep, restorative nap that he sorely needed after the night before.
Nick woke up when Charlie slowly and carefully got up, talking quietly on the phone - something about his flat. Seamus was asleep on the couch across from him, gently snoring. He could hear Tex, Regan, Lunker and Emma chatting quietly in the kitchen, and Nick stretched as the sleep slowly eased out of his body. He pricked his ears, but he couldn’t hear hide nor hair of Amy or Danny. Nick frowned as he heard Charlie step out into the garden to talk to the flat people, his voice low and quiet, likely trying to not disturb anyone.
Nick got up and stretched, slowly making his way upstairs to the guest room where he and Charlie had slept to have a quick shower. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard two British accents coming from Danny and James’s bedroom, still one story above where he was, muffled and quiet. Nick’s suspicions deepened and he stealthily made his way to the top floor, creeping over to the primary bedroom door, which was just ajar. He was shocked to hear Amy and Danny talking in frankly amazingly convincing British accents, both of them sounding almost totally different with the voices that they were putting on.
Nick stood at the doorway, his eyebrows perhaps higher than they had ever been. He glared through the tiny crack at the deceitful menaces in front of him, Amy waving her hands as she described the “very massive” beams that had to be found for the flat, Danny chiming in periodically to add in facts about average tree growth in Southeastern England and the varying impacts from different weather phenomena. He heard Charlie’s voice coming in through the phone, tinny over speakerphone.
“You’ve been such a love about this,” cooed Amy, Danny grinning and silently giggling at her. “We do hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”
“It’s been fine,” said Charlie, his voice easy.
“Have you had a decent place to stay?” asked Danny, the Mancunian accent dripping off of him. Nick was stunned; he had no idea Danny could fake an accent like that. Amy, too. “We hope you’ve been able to spend the deferred rent money on a lovely place.”
“I’ve been staying with…” Charlie’s voice trailed off before coming back in, strong. “I’ve been staying somewhere where I’m really happy, yeah.” Nick thought he could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice and he grinned to himself too, despite the absolute ridiculousness unfolding in front of him.
“Well that’s just utterly brilliant,” said Amy. Nick could see her beaming like an idiot as she spoke to Charlie, shushing Danny silently with one hand as he continued to bounce with giggles, laying a hand on James’s shoulder, who looked mildly torn between disapproval and amusement. James was in on this, too?!
Nick had heard enough. He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, arms crossed. James, Danny, and Amy looked up all at the same time, the synchronised motion looking like a glitch in the matrix. Nick had to suppress a smile watching the colour drain from their faces despite himself.
“Well, pip pip and cheerio!” exclaimed Amy, eyes wide and slightly panicked, her accent getting noticeably worse. “Must dash, chat soon, Charlie!” She pressed the end call button several times without looking at her phone, eyes glued on Nick.
There was a long beat of silence.
“Well, well, well,” murmured Danny, never looking away from Nick. “If it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.”
Nick raised an eyebrow again, waiting for any of them to say anything else. “Who’s going to say it?”
“Say what?” Amy said with bravado, raising her chin.
“Give me your phone,” said Nick evenly.
Amy blanched and held her phone to her chest. “There’s nothing on here except dick pics. So many pics of Seamus’s dick. Do you really want to see pictures of your best friend’s erect penis?”
“Nope,” said Nick, shaking his head and holding out his hand. “You can’t get out of this with dick pic threats.”
James gave her a firm incline of his head and Amy sighed. She unlocked her phone and shoved it at Nick, looking down. Nick opened Chrome on her phone and looked through her tabs.
“‘How long do woodworms live?’” Nick read, looking at the headline of one of the articles in one of the tabs. He flipped through more, including some Google searches. “‘If a flat gets infested with woodworms how long does it take to get rid of them?’ ‘How to order fucking enormous wooden beams, Endland.’ ‘Woodworms UK immortal?’” Nick shook his head, a smile twitching at his lips despite his indignance. Then he frowned as he flipped through several more tabs. “God, Amy, how many searches for ‘shirtless Chris Pine’ did you do?”
“Not enough,” said Amy defensively, crossing her arms and glaring at Nick.
Nick looked from her to Danny, who had slowly slid his own phone into his pocket with a guilty expression on his face before Nick could take it from him. “You two made up the whole woodworm thing, didn’t you?”
There was another long moment of silence, and then Nick spoke again. “Did you two pretend to be the landlord of his flat?!”
“Not the landlord of the flat,” said Danny, looking offended. “Manager of the building Boris and his supervisor Emily, thank you for respecting our profession.”
Nick fell silent again, looking again between Danny and Amy, waiting for them to explain themselves. It stretched for a few seconds before Amy broke first.
“Okay, in my defence, I was so afraid you were going to let Charlie leave and not tell him how you felt!” Amy burst out. “You were just so terrified to say anything and you would have missed out on possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to you! And Charlie’s place was ready, and you were just going to let him go without saying anything, and who knows when you would have seen each other again? And come on, Nick, because of this he was there at New Year’s and you two shared a bed and now you’re together and it’s just the best thing in the world!”
“And in my defence,” Danny said earnestly. “I really wanted to do it.”
James shook his head solemnly at both Amy and Danny. “Shame on the two of you,” he said in a scolding tone. “I can’t believe the dishonesty.”
Both Amy and Danny protested at the same time, loudly.
“Okay, who’s the one who’s been paying his rent for the last two months?!”
“My little love wallaby, I love you so much, and I am very much throwing you under the bus, you sexy goddamn co-conspirator.”
Nick snorted despite himself as James widened his eyes comically and began to bicker with Danny and Amy, then shook his head again. “It was all made up?”
“Just the woodworms and the flat needing repair and the general identity theft, yes,” said Danny, eyes theatrically innocent, blinking at Nick like a baby deer. “But everything else was real.”
Nick knew that he could be angry on Charlie’s behalf - and maybe his own. He could be furious that Amy and Danny had lied to Charlie and deceived both of them. He could be upset that James had apparently been secretly wiring money to Charlie’s flat building, which had been sitting empty and dark since the “woodworms” were discovered. Nick could be angry that it was false pretences that forced Charlie to stay at Lavender Fields for an extra six weeks, three of them where he and Nick shared a bed.
He really could have been.
Instead, Nick felt memories of the last few weeks flash through his brain. Moments with Charlie, the two of their bodies folded together on a couch wrapped in a blanket and each other. Driving to town together, hands intertwined and resting on top of the gear shift. Charlie’s face, eyes dark and intense, coming closer to his, Charlie’s fingers sliding across Nick’s skin. As angry as Nick knew he could be, he was having a lot of trouble mustering any anger at the moment, not with what those weeks had been like. If Charlie hadn’t stayed, they wouldn’t have had those moments at all. He would have left, gone back to London, and who knows if they had seen each other again. Still, Charlie did deserve to know the truth. Nick sighed, looking at each of them in turn.
“Well. You have five minutes to think about how you’re going to tell him, which you are going to. In five minutes,” said Nick, arms crossed.
“Tell Charlie? Tell young Charles? Tell Springy Sproingy Springtime?” asked Danny, looking aghast. “What if he goes back to London?”
“Yeah!” echoed Amy. “What if, like, he doesn’t stay at Lavender Fields any more?”
Nick felt his stomach, a dense, cold core of dread sitting in it. He knew that this day would have come if the woodworms were real, and he had worried about all of that himself when he thought Charlie’s flat was still being worked on. “You should have thought of that before you made up lies,” he said, shrugging and trying to look unaffected despite the squeezing terror in his belly, the laughter and amusement immediately draining out of him. He quietly made his way downstairs, heart sinking with every step he took, closer to Charlie. Closer to Charlie knowing that he could leave Lavender Fields whenever he wanted.
Charlie was in the garden, talking now to what sounded like his sister. He turned and gave Nick a cheerful wave as he chatted, Nick waving back despite feeling utterly hollow. Nick felt a little distant irritation with Danny and Amy (and James, to a degree), but he knew that they had also just given him extra time with the whole deception. This would have always happened. It just should have happened six weeks ago, when Charlie’s place was actually ready. Before anything had even happened between them. Nick swallowed as Amy, Danny, and James guiltily slunk down the stairs, all of them waiting for Charlie to finish his call. Charlie did, and was startled to see the four of them joining him in the garden, the two Badgers players and their physio looking abashed.
“Charlie, this lot has something to tell you,” said Nick, gesturing to the others. Charlie’s eyebrows drew together as Amy and Danny immediately started speaking over each other (with James occasionally jumping in), telling the story in fits and starts. Charlie looked increasingly confused with every sentence that they spoke, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Okay, so, maybe your flat in London is ready…”
“It might have been ready weeks ago.”
“Yeah, I heard that, and I also heard that it might not have had all of the issues that you were led to believe.”
“Like, maybe it never had woodworms in it at all.”
“And Jesus Christ, if it did have woodworms in it, those beams would have taken for-fucking-ever to get; we researched it and they are very very hard to get!”
“Oh, yeah, okay, so we might have pretended to be the people calling from the flat.”
“I’m Boris.”
“And I’m Amelie.”
“Emily.”
“Oh, yeah, Emily. Yes, she is me and I am her.”
“I wanted it to be Boris and Natasha like the Bullwinkle cartoon, but Ames wouldn’t-”
“We lied to you and Nick, Charlie-”
“We lied! We are terrible! We feel so terrible!”
“...Except that it made you and Nick pash, so we don’t actually feel that bad - I mean, like, if you could have supplied the canvas that the Mona Lisa was painted on you’d feel pretty good about yourself, yeah? We basically did that, we’re kind of heroes…”
“But it was dishonest and wrong and now we’ve maligned the name of woodworms-”
“We have besmirched them!”
And on and on it went, all of them talking over each other and the full story coming out, James occasionally pitching in. Apparently Darcy and Tara had been a part of it too, Tara begrudgingly completing some research and Darcy just generally backing the whole project from an emotional standpoint. Charlie listened, arms folded and wide-eyed, head bouncing between who was talking like he was watching a tennis match. When it finally ended, all three of them apologising profusely to both Nick and Charlie, all eyes turned to Charlie. There was a beat of silence before Charlie spoke. Though he didn’t actually speak.
He started to giggle.
Nick looked nervously at Amy and Danny, who looked back at him and then each other. Charlie kept giggling, shaking his head. “Oh my god,” he said. “You absolute menaces.” Amy gave a wildly high-pitched, terrified-sounding giggle, joining in. Danny did too, eyes wide and fearful. James just looked spooked, still. Charlie looked at Nick. “Did you know this?!”
“No!” said Nick emphatically. “I literally just found out five minutes ago. I heard you talking and I saw Amy’s phone light up earlier when you called the flat people, and I went to investigate.”
“Nick is a very good investigatory journalist,” said Danny earnestly to Charlie. “You should keep him around in case there are crimes committed at Lavender Fields, like any of the crimes against decency that certain Badger-y men may have committed during the nighttime hours.”
Charlie was still giggling. “I…fuck! You two have very convincing accents. And how did you make it not your numbers?”
“Google voice…” said Amy, and Nick rolled his eyes, amazed at how much planning had clearly gone into this. “Are you mad? You should be mad. We’re so sorry, Charlie.”
Charlie shook his head. “I…no. I’m not mad,” he said, and Amy and Danny looked at each other, delighted and relieved. “If I had left in December, I don’t know…” he looked at Nick, and Nick joined their hands together. “I don’t know what would have happened. If anything had happened. I think I needed a few weeks’ more courage before we...” He trailed off, blushing. Nick flushed too, squeezing Charlie’s hand. It was so clear to Nick after this weekend and after the visits at Lavender Fields that Charlie felt comfortable with Nick’s friends. They were Charlie’s friends, too.
“That’s what we said!” chorused Amy and Danny, in near-perfect harmony.
“We basically saved the day,” said Amy.
“Yes, we truly found love in a hopeless place,” added Danny.
Nick raised a finger. “You also lied.”
“Fibbed?” said James, lifting his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
“Yes, baby!” said Danny. “That is the kind of marketing copy we’re looking for! I love you. I love all of you. I love love. I love you, Charlie bear. I love you, Nicky nuts. And now everyone is happy and no one is mad and Amy and I are officially heroes that everyone thinks rescued the whole world. And sweet baby James, too, even though he didn’t believe in our mission at the beginning of it but his soft sweet heart wouldn’t let him not be a part of it. You’re welcome, Nick and Charlie!”
“Well, I wouldn’t say-”
“Off we go!” said Amy loudly, pulling at James and Danny’s arms. “Leaving as heroes, yay us!” They scooted off inside, leaving Nick and Charlie in the garden in semi-stunned silence.
There was a long moment before either of them spoke. Nick shuffled his feet, the sound loud in the abject silence. “So I guess your place is ready.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, the bemused smile slowly fading from his face.
“That means you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” said Nick, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Sounds like it,” said Charlie quietly. “I have a flat in London to go back to now full-time.”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick, every word harsh, grating against the tenderness of his feelings for Charlie. There was a beat of silence, and then Nick and Charlie spoke at nearly the same time.
“But what about the portrait people?”
“I’m worried about you being haunted if I leave.”
They both looked at each other and laughed. Nick spoke first this time, his heart rabbiting in his chest. “Char, I know you can go back to your place now. And I…” He took a breath. “Listen. I don’t want to….like…push too hard. I know I can be…” he trailed off, the words too much echoing around his head, mocking him. “I know I can be a lot. I’ve heard that before,” Nick said quietly. “I don’t want to scare you off. But if you wanted to keep staying at Lavender Fields for a bit, I would love for you to keep staying. You could do the same thing - go back for your in-office days and just stay at your place instead of Elle and Tao’s - but you could still come to Lavender Fields until March like we thought yesterday. Or longer.” He took a breath. “I know there’s no reason for you to stay if your place is ready.” Nick looked up, meeting Charlie’s eyes. “But I do want you there. With me. If you want to be.”
Charlie inhaled, his breath soft but deep. He reached up and gently touched Nick’s cheek, drawing his thumb along Nick’s cheekbone. Nick closed his eyes against Charlie’s warm touch and leaned his head towards Charlie, wanting to be ever closer and terrified of what Charlie was going to say, how Charlie was going to let him down gently. “There is a reason to be there,” Charlie said softly. “You.”
Nick gasped softly without meaning to, his breath caught in his chest, every cell in his body glittering in still, sparkling wonder. He paused a moment before opening his eyes, and when he did, Nick saw Charlie looking back at him, Charlie’s blue eyes locked on his own. He had no idea what he had gotten right to be in this place with this man, this man who was everything Nick could ever imagine. Nick didn’t bother brushing away the tears that were gathering and spilling over his lower eyelids, his throat tight. “Do you…” he sniffled and buried himself into Charlie’s chest. Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick, holding him tightly and tenderly, stroking his hair. “So you would - you might stay for a bit longer?”
“I would,” whispered Charlie, his voice ragged. “I will. If you’ll have me.”
“You could stay forever,” whispered Nick, and in that moment, the enormity of that word didn’t even scare him, or make him worry that he might scare Charlie off. Charlie was staying. Charlie would be there until Nick went back to Leeds. They had more time. They had time to figure everything out. They had time.
Charlie was staying.
Notes:
No, boys, this doesn’t count as having the conversations you need to have with each other.
Since the boys are travelling, here is a recipe that I love to make for a weeknight dinner. I lean heavily on the “measure with your heart” school of cooking, so everything there is approximate. This dinner is nice because I swap it out for whatever veggies I have (and meat, if you want/eat it) and it’s always delicious!
Weeknight Spicy Pasta
Ingredients
½ box of pasta (I like Barilla protein plus, it cooks really nicely al dente)
Meat of choice (optional)
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
½ c onion
3 cloves garlic
Crushed red pepper
Canned spicy tomatoes (Ro-Tel or tomatoes with chilis, etc.)
Asparagus (sub whatever veggies you like)
Cream cheese (whipped is nice to easily melt)
Spinach
Parmesan cheese to top pastaSet the water to boil. As the water heats, brown the meat in olive oil over medium with salt and pepper, drain if needed. Add in the onions and cook for 3 minutes, then add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Turn the heat to low and add in crushed red pepper flakes to your spice level, letting the pepper flakes mix and cook with the meat/onions/garlic.
Set the noodles to boil. Add the can of tomatoes and the asparagus, mixing and then covering for 5–7 minutes over medium/low heat.
Add 1 - 3 Tablespoons of cream cheese (or more, if that makes you feel happy, which it makes me feel VERY happy). Mix well. Once the noodles are nearly done, stir in 1-3 large handfuls of spinach into the sauce and continually marvel at how tiny spinach becomes when cooked.
Drain the noodles and toss them with the sauce. Top with parmesan cheese.
Chapter 26: Talks
Summary:
Last Time: Nick feels torn between how proud he is of Charlie and not wanting Charlie to deal with undue attention. They drunkenly talked about being boyfriends. Nick and Charlie found out why the work in Charlie’s place has taken so long, and the reason is extremely Danny and Amy-shaped.
This Time: The boys have a weekend just to themselves. They stay fully clothed and talk about taxes and soup and the sounds that different weights of printer paper make when you waggle them in their air, definitely nothing emotional or sexual at all.
Notes:
As always, the magical waveofyou (The Write-Up) and NellieSayzBork (As You Are) have helped me so much on this chapter. One of the things that I love about fic is the sense of community that exists. It’s like my superhero secret identity that I hide from the rest of the world, and those two make it like the fucking Justice League! Just, like, a super gay version.
Beezus Red wrote another unhinged piece of brilliance with Badgers Moo-sings - I adore you, friend!
If you’d like to see the place that I used as inspiration for where Nick and Charlie stayed, it’s here. Just imagine it closer to the beach and as a standalone building so as to not disturb the neighbours! You know, during the conversations about printer paper weights.
Thar be smut afoot in this chapter. Also, the song mentioned is called You're Amazing by Martin Kerr.
It does still say 30 chapters. The main arc will conclude in most likely 30 chapters, but there will definitely be epilogues - multiple!
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick looked over and smiled at the sleeping man beside him, his dark curls a sharp contrast against the teal of Nick’s hooded jumper, pressed against the glass of the passenger side window. They were on their way from James and Danny’s house, finally off to have some time with just them. No fans, no Badgers, no cows, no guests, no chores. It would just be them. That felt like an unimaginable luxury to Nick.
He had checked in a few times with Charlie to make sure Charlie was really all right with the whole thing about his flat. Nick was still shaking his head in fond annoyance at Amy and Danny (and James, who had been equally a part of it). Nick wanted to be sure that Charlie wasn’t just laughing it off because he felt uncomfortable, feeling like he needed to be a good sport in front of “Nick’s mates”. Quite to the contrary, Charlie had coloured when he admitted that he had found it oddly nice.
“It, like - I don’t know,” Charlie had finally said when Nick kept pressing him about it. “It made me feel like…part of the group? Like I wasn’t just an outsider friend, but almost like one of you lot?”
“Almost,” Nick scoffed. “You are a part of this group,” he said, squeezing Charlie’s arm.
“Oh,” was all Charlie had said with a small, private smile. That tiny expression had made Nick’s heart soar. Charlie hadn’t questioned it or pushed back. With that look and the single word, Nick felt like Charlie had finally realised how fully welcome and integrated he was as a part of the Badgers crew.
Nick and Charlie had hugged everyone farewell, telling them what a great weekend it had been. Danny seemed to have an entire, audible argument with himself as he embraced them both, first insisting that they stay another night, then muttering that if they did they couldn’t root like filthy little wombats, then saying that he and James had soundproofed the guest room so really it was fine and they should stay, and then finally pushing them out the door with a fond expression and his hands clasped at his heart, telling them to shag like their lives depended on it on their holiday. Nick and Charlie had giggled about that for the first few minutes in the car. As soon as they got on the motorway, though, Charlie’s eyes started to droop. He insisted that he was fine and could stay up, but Nick just reached over to brush the hair from his eyes and told him to sleep. It was no time at all before Charlie was asleep, looking utterly adorable curled up and resting against the window.
They were taking a roundabout route back to Lavender Fields, skirting along the Eastern edge of England. Nick hadn’t told Charlie where they were going yet, which was Clevedon. Nick had gone there on a trip with his mum, aunt, and aunt’s family when he was fifteen, and for some reason, the place still had a romantic hold on him. It hadn’t been a particularly thrilling trip for a teenager, but Nick had vivid memories of walking Clevedon Pier while he was there, seeing couples tucked together as they strolled. He remembered seeing two men holding hands, which had a rare right sixteen years ago, at least in Nick’s world. His mother had said something offhandedly about that being nice to her sister, and the moment had passed. Nick had held onto that, though, and had cautiously turned his head to watch the men for longer than had probably been socially acceptable, intrigued by the sight. That may have been another missed sign from when he was young, that deep fascination and wonder at the idea and representation of something other than heterosexual relationships.
Clevedon held that memory for him, and it was also quiet enough in the winter months to not have too many people. Nick doubted that there would be enough people for him to attract much or any attention, especially now being retired. Beyond the history he had there and the privacy, Nick had been longing to take Charlie to the beach since they had driven the long way from town and stopped by the grey-black cliffs a few months ago. Charlie had looked at him from the passenger seat of the truck, his blue eyes vivid against the dark surround. Charlie had exclaimed at the sight, at how gorgeous it was. That had been one of the many moments of realising how staggeringly hard Nick had fallen for Charlie. Nick had wanted to go to the sea with Charlie since then, some quirk of impulse that made him want to bring Charlie to the place where his eyes would match the colour of the water, like they had that day.
Nick was listening to his Discover Weekly on Spotify, which had been heavily influenced by Charlie and then songs that Nick had discovered, too. A song came on, the guitar immediately making Nick feel warm and happy. He listened as a man’s sweet voice started singing.
One day, we'll be looking back on this and we'll say
"Aren't you happy that we did it our way?"
Everyone we knew was saying no way
But we were never listening anyway
So don't be just standing in the doorway
Don't you know, we gotta hit the highway?
Darling, this is gonna be a good day
And I've gotta say that
I'm not bad myself, but you're amazing, you're amazing
Nick grinned as he listened to the words, fighting the urge to reach over and stroke Charlie’s hair. He truly was amazing. Nick hoped something like this could be their story, if he was lucky enough to keep Charlie in his life for that long. It was undeniably a bit mad to have Charlie still make the trek to Lavender Fields every week when there was no real need for it. No reason.
But then Charlie had said those words, the words that kept swirling around Nick’s heart, painting it gold from the inside out.
You’re a reason to be there.
That made Nick happier than he could ever put into words. The fact that it was him, Nick Nelson - he was a reason that Charlie would drive three hours every week? He was reason enough for Charlie to go out of his way and not settle into his flat? Nick was reason enough that Charlie would agree to stay, even if it might have felt utterly unreasonable to someone outside the two of them? The fact that Nick was enough of a draw to overcome the cold logic that Charlie could and should just go back to London felt like a massive…something. “Responsibility” wasn’t quite the right word. That brought up some semblance of obligation, and Nick didn’t quite feel obligated to prove to Charlie that he was worth it. More so it was - it was an honour. Charlie was bestowing an honour on Nick, to choose to stay with him even when his flat was ready. Nick wanted to live up to that honour. God, this man - his sultry energy, his boyish charm. Nick was so lucky.
Nick frowned to himself. Something had just popped into his mind with what he had just thought, something that caused a dull twist in his stomach, one that felt tinged with guilt. It was the same thought that had come into his mind that morning. It was one of the words he had just thought - Charlie, his boyish charm. Boyish. Boy.
Boyfriend.
Holy shit. Holy fucking fuck. Nick had asked Charlie to be his boyfriend last night when they were both absolutely plastered. Oh, god. With all that Charlie had gone through with B. Hope, it was probably a huge deal to talk about being boyfriends, and Nick had been so wound up from the day of feeling uncomfortable with the word “friends” that he just had to talk about it then, ignorant of the circumstances. Nick felt his insides shrivelling with embarrassment as he remembered their talk. Nick hadn’t, like forgotten that it happened, but last night had been an absolute blur once they had gotten home from The View. He squirmed in his seat, wanting to immediately wake Charlie up and see if Charlie still felt the same way by light of day, when they were sober and had both promised themselves to never drink ever again. Nick hoped that Charlie would forgive him for bringing up something so meaningful when they were staggeringly drunk.
The next couple hours, Nick’s thoughts swirled with a combination of things. He’d get excited about the days together, then a dark tendril of his mind would tap on his brain, reminding him of the whole boyfriends thing had he had fucked up. Nick tried to drag his thoughts away, but it was hard. He stewed and worried as Charlie slept, berating himself for making it seem like he thought something like that was cavalier enough to talk about while trollied.
Charlie woke up when they stopped for petrol an hour or so away from Clevedon, blinking awake gently and slowly. He looked gorgeous as always, and Nick leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before getting out of the car, the heat of the drunken ‘boyfriend’ guilt tempered by the knowledge that they’d have all weekend to talk.
“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” said Nick with a grin.
Charlie smiled and then closed his eyes again. “Hi, dog from Up.”
“What?” asked Nick, cocking his head.
“You made a film joke. I made one, too,” said Charlie sleepily, opening his eyes slowly, his face with lines from Nick’s jumper, looking tired but happy. “Don’t worry about it.”
Nick chuckled. “Whatever you say, Prince Char-ming.” Nick guesses that Charlie’s eye roll could have been picked up by the Hubble telescope.
They chatted the rest of the drive, Charlie perking up and seeming refreshed once they got back on the road. Nick knew he needed to bring up the boyfriends thing again, but for now, he was able to shove that to a dusty, guilt-inducing box in his brain and enjoy their easy banter. Charlie started keeping a sharp eye on the road signs as they got closer, making guesses as they went.
“Are we going to the Hinkley Point power stations?” said Charlie, giggling. “I’ve always wanted to experience a few days marvelling at the wonder of hydro-powered nuclear electricity.”
“Oh, I wish I had thought of that,” said Nick, laughing. “No, I bet a place like that would charge too much for us to go.” He grinned and looked over at Charlie, who was now looking like the human version of the 😐 emoji, making Nick laugh harder.
They finally pulled off the motorway and made their way to Clevedon, Charlie lighting up when Nick explained that they were taking a quick wintertime getaway to the beach. He had found a wonderful place to rent, a two-bedroom stone cottage just a few blocks away from the pier. Nick had fallen in love with the pictures when he found it online. The cosy ground floor had a warm feel to it, with a wood burning stove in the corner in front of two couches. The small kitchen, living room, and dining area were all part of one large space. The ceilings were high and lofted, with light wooden beams criss-crossing the room. Nick had felt a pang in his heart when he’d seen the wood on the listing, thinking of Charlie’s flat back when he thought it was being worked on, but he’d been so enamoured with the charm of the place that he had to book it.
Nick grabbed their bags from the car and used the keypad to let them in, both of them exclaiming at the bright, airy space. The beams of the loft were truly gorgeous, and they both giggled when they said, “beams!” in union. That pang Nick had in his heart earlier was completely gone, replaced by the easy comfort that Charlie would be staying for the meantime, despite his place being ready.
“It’s too bad they’re infested with woodworms,” said Charlie solemnly, making Nick snort with laughter.
“Yes, such a shame when that happens,” said Nick, shaking his head and drawing Charlie close. “I hate when they force me to spend more time with the most incredible man I know, even if they are the worms of lies.”
Charlie blushed and laughed, then cried out in happy surprise when Nick lunged forward to seize Charlie and pick him up like a bear, carrying him to the bedroom through an oak door to the left of the kitchen, Charlie’s toes skimming the ground. Nick dropped Charlie on the bed and then joined him, crawling up so that he was draped over Charlie’s chest, his cheek resting against Charlie’s soft jumper.
Charlie hugged Nick close and Nick sighed happily. They stayed like that for a moment before Charlie spoke, one hand drifting to Nick’s hair. “We were on the couch and in the car all day,” he said. “Do you want to go for a quick walk before it gets too dark?”
Nick smiled against the soft fabric, voice slightly muffled. “I mean, yes,” he replied. “That sounds nice.”
Nick could hear the answering smile in Charlie’s voice. “It’s hard to walk the pier when you’re glued to me like a koala like this, though,” he said, stroking Nick’s air.
“Mm,” said Nick, sighing and burying his face in the perfect spot on Charlie, the soft place between Charlie’s shoulder and clavicle.
Charlie was still grinning; Nick could hear it. “What are you doing, then?”
“Recharging,” said Nick, feeling utterly blissed out.
Charlie laughed softly. He went to pull away from Nick and get up, but Nick wrapped his legs around Charlie and squeezed, caging Charlie between his thighs. Charlie immediately stopped trying to escape, the tips of his ears pink again.
“Okay, fine,” said Charlie, with a manufactured sigh. “I guess we can stay here for a little bit.” He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice sounded oddly shy. “Did you - were you speaking French at the match with Wilco?”
Nick nodded his head at Charlie, still not looking up. “Oui, je parle français.”
Charlie’s voice now had an interesting note to it. “So, you speak French. Like - fluently?”
“Sort of,” said Nick, eyes closed, drinking in this moment where he was able to hold Charlie tightly after two days without that freedom. “My dad’s French, and he basically only spoke to me in French. He lives in Paris now, and even though we don’t talk any more, I can still…” Nick finally looked up, intrigued by the tiny squeak that had come out of Charlie. He drew back and looked at Charlie’s face, which looked pleasurably flushed. Charlie blushed even more when he was caught in Nick’s gaze. A smile blossomed across Nick’s face. “Wait…do you like the fact that I speak French?”
Charlie was even rosier now, turning his back on Nick, though Nick saw that he was grinning as he did so. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said, looking up and giving a half-shrug, voice falsely casual. “It’s cool.”
Nick was delighted. “Charlie!” he exclaimed, sitting up and poking at Charlie’s dimples. God, they were so cute. Oh, Nick was going to use this French thing to his benefit. Nick pressed against Charlie’s back and put his mouth close to Charlie’s ear. “Mon amour,” he purred.
Charlie made a strange laugh-gasp combination, then turned and buried his face in the pillows, the embarrassed thrill breaking through in his voice. “Oh my god, you’re so cringe!”
Nick giggled, getting on top of Charlie so his head was next to Charlie’s ear again. “You don’t look like you’re cringing. You look like you’re blushing.”
“I am not!”
“Oh yeah? Are you sure… mon chéri?”
“Leave me alone, you dick!” Charlie whapped Nick lightly with a pillow and Nick laughed, the two of them rolling around the bed, giggling and wrestling.
“Okay, fine, fine, fine,” said Nick, flopping on his back and panting, pulling Charlie between his legs and tightening them around Charlie’s body. “You win. Let’s go for a walk and not just make out for hours in front of the fire.”
“No, wait, now I want to do that instead,” protested Charlie.
“Too late,” said Nick breezily. “This mouth is closed for business.” He finally released Charlie from his thighs, grinning.
Charlie smirked back at Nick as he got off the bed, going to the window and looking out into the garden, which had a few planter beds. Nick watched, propped up on his elbow, as Charlie gazed out the glass for a moment. “Nick?” he asked in a dreamy voice. “Do you ever think about growing pumpkins at Lavender Fields?”
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Charlie, blushing the brightest he had been all day and turning away from the window. “Come on, let’s get ready.”
Nick shrugged to himself and got up, too, the two of them bundling up tightly. They walked through the few streets to get to the pier, talking the whole way. One of the many things that Nick loved about being around Charlie was how much more present he felt when they were together. When Nick was on his own, his brain was typically rushing ahead, planning out his day and thinking about what came next rather than what he was doing. When he was with Charlie, not only was Nick grounded by the physical contact between them, but also the conversation. They were constantly pointing things out to one another or asking each other questions, conversations that were both everything and nothing.
The daylight was nearly gone and it was a Sunday in January, so the pier was as empty as Nick hoped it would be. Nick reached down and tugged Charlie’s hand out of his pocket, taking it and drawing their interlaced palms together into his own pocket. Nick would have been fine taking Charlie’s hand regardless of how many people were around, but he knew they needed to talk about the whole public thing. And, god, the boyfriend thing that Nick had fucked up. As Nick took Charlie’s hand, Charlie’s face lit up with a warm glow, and he pressed his body closer to Nick’s as they walked. Charlie didn’t say anything about it, but Nick could feel his whole body loosen and relax. The beach was to their left as they walked down the pier, rocky cliffs to the right with houses dotted above them.
Charlie nodded his head towards the houses. “Okay, you have to buy one of these houses. Which one would you pick?”
Nick paused at the railing, looking and considering. “Ooh, see the one with the three chimneys? It has to be that one. With the sea right there, it would be so cosy.”
Charlie nodded. “I do like that one - I think I’m going to go with that stone one, over there. It feels like it has a very ‘washer-woman waiting for her husband to come home from the war’ kind of vibe to it.’”
Nick chuckled. “I can picture you with a laundry basket on your hip, sighing as you gaze at the sea.”
“Gay-ze,” said Charlie, grinning. “And if you say anything about what I just said, I’ll never say something like it ever again.’
“Mrrph!” said Nick, closing his lips but making a loud, protesting sound. He let out a huge breath and shook his head. “Cruel, Charles. Very cruel.” Nick started them walking again, but paused and gestured with his free hand. “Oh, look at that,” he said. The dark rocks of the small cliffs looked jagged and unwelcoming, but there was a single, small tree growing out of one of the cracks between the boulders, stretching upwards. “That’s incredible!”
Charlie looked where Nick was pointing and saw the tree as well. “Wow,” he said, nodding and looking amazed. “I can’t believe something like that can grow there. I wonder how it even figured out how to do that.”
Nick put on his best Jeff Goldblum voice. “Life, uh…” he paused for an overlong moment. “...Finds a way.”
Charlie laughed and they kept walking, down towards the end of the pier and the small building there.
“One Direction filmed a video here,” said Charlie. “Remember the song ‘You and I’?”
Nick whipped his head around, grinning. “Are you a fan? Mr. ‘I only listen to cool indie things that Nick had never heard of’?”
Charlie flushed and shook his head. “A light fan.”
“A light fan. A fan on ‘low’,” scoffed Nick. “Sure you are.”
“Shut up, former S. Club-President 7!”
“I don’t deny who I am, Charlie, and you shouldn’t either.”
They reached the end of the pier, going to the far side of the building. Charlie went to the rail to look at the waves washing against the pier, and Nick came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Charlie.
“Nick,” said Charlie, turning his head and keeping his voice low. “There were people around in town. Someone might see us.”
“I know,” replied Nick. He paused. “Is that okay? Are you okay with that?” Nick took a breath, figuring this was probably a time to talk about some of the things that had been on his mind since the day before. “I…At the match,” Nick said, tentatively. “At the stadium. I wanted to hold hands with you. I wanted to have my arm around you. But I also…” he struggled, not wanting it to sound like he was just making things up, using false concern about Charlie to avoid being seen together. “I was worried about if stuff got out. I was worried about people harassing you, like looking up information about you or whatever.”
Charlie turned more, so that he was looking at Nick. “I worry about people harassing you, Nick,” he said, voice laced with concern. “If we were like…” he looked down, then back up. “If we had gotten caught in the physio room or if we had held hands, there would have been articles, I’m sure. I would hate if stuff was written about you, about who you are. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”
Nick wrapped himself closer to Charlie, drawing their bodies together. They were side by side and slightly turned towards one another, faces to the sea. “I really don’t care what they think, Char,” he said quietly. “And I mean that. I spent so many years working on not caring about what the articles or commentators or whoever said. It took me a long time to get here. I know the sexuality stuff is newer, but it’s the same thing in some ways.” Nick looked at Charlie, Charlie’s eyes meeting his. “I don’t care, Char. I like who I am. I like my life. I like you,” he said, keeping his eyes on Charlie’s.
Charlie’s eyes were soft, but there was still an undercurrent of worry in them. “But you might care, Nick,” he said. “Depending on what they say, you might.”
“I know it’ll be hard,” said Nick, nodding consideringly. “The articles, though, and the media stuff - I don’t know. For me, that stuff is easier. It would be hard if the people in my life didn’t accept me and love me. It would be harder if I was worried about my friends turning their backs, or stuff with my family.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It’s easier that I don’t consider my dad my family any more. I know I’m incredibly lucky with that - I mean, you know all my friends. None of them will care, and they’ll all support me, support us.”
“It will be hard?” Charlie asked, the note in his voice making Nick look over at him, head tilted inquisitively. Charlie took a breath. “You…you say that like you…you think that will happen? That we might…like, be in public together?” He seemed so small at that moment that Nick tightened his grip, half-afraid Charlie might blow away into the wind.
“Yes,” Nick whispered, bringing his face close to Charlie’s. “I do. I want that so badly.” This was the time, Nick realised. He needed to bring up the boyfriends thing from last night. “Also - I wanted to talk to you.” Nick took another deep inhale, stomach squeezing uncomfortably. “The boyfriends thing…”
“It’s okay,” said Charlie, his face shifting from the brilliant glow when Nick said he had wanted to be in public together to a more reassuring smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I get it.”
Nick paused, confused. “What?”
“We were drunk,” said Charlie. “And I promise, I’m not, like, upset. We were both drunk, and we all say things like that without meaning them, and truly, Nick, it’s fine. I won’t hold you to that, and-”
“Wait,” Nick demanded. “Do you think…?” Nick blew out a breath, his eyes huge in his face. “Do you think I’m trying to take it back? Like I didn’t mean it?” He looked at Charlie’s face long enough to meet his eyes, Charlie looking determinedly like he was trying to put Nick at ease. “God, no, Charlie!” Nick turned them so that they were facing one another, taking Charlie’s hands in his. “It’s not that at all! I’m just…I’m so sorry I had that conversation drunk! We should have - I should have brought up all of this before the match. I should have asked how you felt about being seen together - not how you were worried I was feeling, but how you felt. I wanted…I wanted to show you how proud I was to be with you. How proud I am. But then once we were there, I realised there could be impacts on your life, like people bothering you online or stuff like that. I really should have spoken to you about all of this before.”
Nick took another breath. Charlie’s face was transforming into a trembling joy, like he was glowingly happy but it could be snatched away at any moment. “Charlie, I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be seen with you. I hated it when we used the word ‘friends’ in front of other people. You are my friend, yes,” he said, smiling at Charlie and taking Charlie’s face in his hands, Charlie’s skin warm despite the cold wind. “But I don’t want to be just that. I want to be your boyfriend.” Nick paused, looking at Charlie’s face, waiting to see what he said.
“Oh my god, Nick,” said Charlie, voice soft and eyes liquidly blue, looking even brighter with the waves gently swelling below them, lapping at the pier. “I want to be your boyfriend. So badly.”
“You do?”
Charlie let out a half-laugh that was partially a sob, too. “Of course, you giant rugby idiot!” He pulled Nick in by the collar and kissed him, Nick swallowing back the lump in his throat. They drew back, foreheads together and both of them laughing as they exhaled. “So…we’re boyfriends?”
“Yeah,” said Nick softly, the grin now permanent on his face. “We’re boyfriends.” Then he pulled away from Charlie, joy surging through his chest. Nick raised his arms in the air, startling a few pigeons off of the railing. “He’s my boyfriend!” yelled Nick, the words carried off by the wind. “I’m his boyfriend! We’re boyfriends!”
Charlie laughed wildly and pulled Nick back, the two of them embracing again, tangled in one another against the chill of the wind. Nick dropped his arms down to Charlie’s waist, pulling them close again. He kissed Charlie’s forehead once more, drawing back to see Charlie looking at him with bright eyes. “I…” Charlie began. “I never thought this would happen to me.” The look on his face was tender, and Nick felt his heart swell with fond ache.
“Me neither,” he said quietly, kissing Charlie once, long and slow.
They pulled apart and wordlessly joined hands, walking back down the pier as the last of the daylight faded from the sky, the purples and pinks of the dying light turning to an inky blue. Nick and Charlie made their way back to the cottage, both of them shivering when they got inside the warm air. Nick set a fire as Charlie made them both tea, and they called for takeaway, which they picked up together, once again holding hands as they walked to the restaurant.
Back at the cottage, they ate and then cuddled on the couch for a bit, laughing at nothing with each other, watching the fire, and kissing passionately, hands roaming. They alternated those for a bit until the kissing took over as the primary activity, their breath getting heavier and hands gripping one another more tightly. They were laying on the slightly-too-small couch, Nick on his back and Charlie on top of him. Charlie was grinding against Nick, their bodies pulling against each other, the friction delicious and not enough.
Charlie finally pulled back from lavishing attention on Nick’s neck. “Bedroom?” he said, breathlessly.
Nick nodded fervently. This was the first time they’d have a night together, just them. No chores the next morning, nothing to do. It was just them, and they had hours. There was nothing more that Nick wanted to do than spend hours worshipping Charlie’s body, and now he finally had the chance to do just that. Charlie pulled him to the bedroom with a sultry look, pushing both hands against Nick’s chest and shoving him onto the bed.
Nick grinned as Charlie climbed on top of him again, running his hand up Nick’s side and then back down, the trailing motion making Nick shiver. Charlie’s hands made their way to Nick’s joggers, and Nick arched his neck back. Something again nosed softly in the back of his mind. This was Charlie, focusing on Nick first. That could be good - then Nick could spend hours focused on Charlie. But also…well, they had the whole weekend. And Nick was ready for - more. If Charlie was, that is. Nick knew from both his research, his talk with Danny, and common sense that he and Charlie needed to talk about what they wanted to do.
Nick had in fact spent a lot of the car ride thinking about what he wanted to say to Charlie and how to bring up positions and penetrative sex and everything like that. He had rehearsed it all inside his head as Charlie slept, and there were zero ways that he could think of bringing it all up without sounding like a general unfolding a tactical map, planning for battle.
Okay, men, we need to determine our positions. We’ll have Nick in the rear, here, and we’ll have Charlie with the cannons. Nick will provide the buttress and Charlie the ammunition. Now look sharp, lads, we asstack at dawn.
With a huge amount of effort, Nick gently took Charlie’s hands and pulled them away, rolling Charlie to his side. Nick rolled to his side, too, so that they could be facing one another. It would be easier to have this conversation without looking at one another, but Nick knew that he wanted to truly talk with Charlie. It has been a weekend of not talking in a lot of ways, and Nick was determined, especially after their walk on the pier, that that was not going to be the case any more.
Charlie looked at him with surprised eyes, and Nick hastened to talk to make sure Charlie didn’t think something was wrong, even though he was struggling with the words in his head still.
“Charlie,” Nick started, looking at Charlie’s face and brushing a stray curl away. “Do you ever…do you ever think about us having, like - sex sex?” He cringed internally at the teenager-ish expression, but “penetrative sex” just sounded too clinical to his ears.
“With you?” asked Charlie. “No, not a lot. Just, like, forty to eight hundred times a day.”
Nick let out a laugh, startled. “Charlie!”
Charlie grinned wickedly. “That is not my fault. I happen to know the fittest, most sexy man in the world. And he happens to be my…boyfriend.” Charlie said the last word more quietly and with a small blush on his cheeks, like he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to use it.
Nick responded to that by rolling closer to Charlie and purring into his ear. “Yes, your boyfriend. Though you’re mistaken, I think you’re describing my boyfriend.”
Charlie smirked, the dimples in his cheeks looking incredibly sexy. “So, short answer - yes, Nick. I think about that a lot.”
Nick smiled back, heart going quickly in his chest. “I do, too,” he said. He took another breath. Nick had practised this so many times in the car, and now it was time to pull the plaster off. He could do this. “I’ve…I want to do that, Charlie. With you. I don’t want to do anything until you’re ready, of course-”
“Nick,” said Charlie with a grin. “I am very, very ready to do that with you.”
Nick felt like he had been punched in the chest, dizzied and stunned, but in the best way. “Oh,” he said, awkwardly and more pleased than he had ever been in his life. “Well. Yeah. That’s - that’s good. I do…too. I’m ready for that, too.” He shook his head as Charlie giggled, getting back into his body and brain. “So, I was wondering…” Come on, Nick, communicate. This is what true intimacy is about. “What if, like, the first time we did, I bottomed and you topped? Since you know what you’re doing and I’m newer to all of this?” He half-held this breath with his heart in his throat, looking at Charlie and waiting to see what he said.
Charlie blinked at him for a moment, silent, and Nick felt a flicker of worry in his gut before Charlie finally spoke. “Nick, I…” He fell silent again, and the flicker of fear immediately ignited into flames, Nick’s body hot with anxiety. Charlie closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were too-bright, like there were tears building. “Nick, I have no idea what I’m doing with you,” he said, his voice choked.
Nick was entirely confused. Charlie had dated men before; of course he knew what he was doing with Nick. “You…what?”
Charlie squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them, shaking his head and looking at Nick. “I…” he took a long, shuddering breath. “So much of this is new to me, Nick.” Nick looked at Charlie, baffled, but waited for him to go out. “Like - I’ve never topped before, so that alone is new,” he said, shaking his head and looking over Nick’s shoulder, then down at the blankets between them without actually seeming to see anything. “But more than that…my experience with you is just so different. It’s so different to Ben.”
Nick felt himself tighten up. He didn’t want to talk about B. Hope. He really didn’t. They didn’t need to, either, Nick thought. They didn’t need to bring up that wanker’s name. They could talk about how he affected Charlie, though. It made Nick uncomfortable to talk about anything like that, because it made Charlie uncomfortable. Yet Nick was realising that them not talking about any of that didn’t benefit either one of them, Charlie especially. Nick took a breath as he considered how to ask. He didn’t want to ask what it had been like with Ben. That seemed too personal, like he was digging for details instead of learning more about what Charlie wanted and needed, after the experiences that he had with B. Hope.
Instead, he decided to ask the question that had been on his brain. “I don’t…I just - I want to understand more, Charlie,” Nick said softly. “One thing…” he steadied himself, grounding into this moment with Charlie. “One thing I’ve noticed is that when we’re together, like when we’re doing stuff, I want to take my time with you. Like, I want to properly pay attention to you for hours.” He looked at Charlie, whose eyes were unreadable, locked on Nick’s. “I could do that for hours, Char,” he said quietly. “I would love to do that for hours, just paying attention to you and touching you.” Nick paused, trying to phrase it right. “But I feel like…is - is that new? Is that what you mean?”
Charlie was quiet again for a moment, and his eyes welled up, this time the tears spilling over his lashes, wetting them. “It was really different, Nick,” he said, and Nick’s heart broke at Charlie’s voice, tiny in the darkness. “It was about him. It was always about him, in a lot of different ways. It was always about him being the least gay,” Charlie said. “It was about his pleasure. Mine seemed…like, transactional. Like it was an obligation to him. He’d finish - first, always - and then he’d want me to take care of myself, if it was sex. And, like, that’s normal, or can be, right? Not everyone can finish from bottoming, so, like that’s normal. But it was always me doing that, while he showered or left or went to sleep, or like, I guess sometimes watched. And when it wasn’t sex, it was him, and then me quickly. Or every so often it was me quick so we could get to him if he was in a nicer mood that day.”
Charlie paused and Nick hated B. Hope for the way he had treated Charlie, like Charlie had been a pornographic accessory instead of a real, breathing, amazing human. “So I wanted to make it as easy as possible for him,” Charlie said quietly. “He would always be annoyed if it took too long. It was easier if I was quick, because then he wouldn’t be in a mood with me after.” Charlie gave a hollow and humourless laugh. “So, yeah. Yeah, that’s a part of it.” He looked at Nick, only meeting his eyes briefly. “You’re…this is all new for me, Nick. You’re not new to this. Or you’re not new alone. I feel like I’m…like this is entirely new.”
Nick swallowed hard, throat tight against the feelings rising up. Anger, protectiveness, fury, empathy - but those were secondary to how tender he felt. How open and raw, in a good way. They were talking. They could talk about anything. “I’m not him,” Nick started quietly, reaching over to touch Charlie’s face.
Charlie looked horrified and talked over Nick before he could keep going. “I know that,” he said immediately, taking Nick’s hand and holding it in his own. “You’re not-”
“No, I know that, Charlie, I know,” said Nick, moving so that he could take Charlie’s face gently in his hands. “I know you’re not saying that about me. But, like, Char - what he gave you…that wasn’t normal, Charlie. That wasn’t how kind people treat the people they’re with. That wasn’t what you deserved.” Nick felt his breath catch in his throat, their faces close together. “I want to give you what you deserve.”
“It’s a two-way street,” Charlie said after a pause, his throat working. “You deserve everything, too. You deserve everything, Nick,” he said, eyes burning bright again even through the low light. “Sometimes I feel…sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you. Or-” he shook his head over Nick’s attempt to interrupt, Nick falling silent, hating Charlie’s thoughts but wanting to give him the space to let them out. “Sometimes I feel like you deserve someone who doesn’t have all of this baggage.”
“I can’t tell you how much I don’t feel like that,” Nick said, and he almost felt like he was begging, begging for Charlie to understand and believe him. “Charlie, I have so much shit, too! I’m terrified of being too much. I’m terrified of overwhelming you or scaring you off or…” he broke off, tears spilling from his own eyes now, too. “Can we…can we tell each other if we feel like this? Like we don’t deserve each other? Or if either of us ever feel anxious like this?”
Charlie gave a tiny jerk of his head, his voice quiet and aching. “I just don’t want to, like - annoy you, or burden you,” he said, the tone causing Nick’s whole chest to feel tight and tender. “I don’t want you to think I’m some fragile, broken mess. Like you need to fix me.”
“You’re not,” Nick said immediately. “And I wouldn’t.” He shook his head wordlessly for a moment, trying to say what he wanted to, struggling to come up with the words. “Char, remember that tree earlier?” Charlie looked at him and Nick went on. “The one growing from the rock. It wasn’t - like maybe it didn’t look like every other tree. It was different. But Charlie, it still grew. You wouldn’t see a tree like that and blame the tree for not looking a specific way, like the way you think a tree is supposed to look. You look at it and you’re amazed that it grew so strong even though it had to do that in shit circumstances.” Charlie’s eyes were on Nick, not looking away.
Nick moved closer, caressing Charlie’s face. Another tear slid down Charlie’s cheek and Nick brushed it away. “You’d think all of that,” Nick said softly. “And you’d think that tree was one of the strongest and mostly incredible things you’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t blame it for where it had to grow. You’d just be so amazed that it still did. You’re that tree, Charlie,” said Nick, voice choked. “You are so strong.”
Charlie closed his eyes and breathed in a shaky breath before opening them. “That…” he took another long inhale. “Thank you,” Charlie said softly, then he looked at Nick. “Nick, you are so strong,” he murmured. “I hope you know that. You’re…you’ve figured out so much in the last few months. You didn’t run from any of it. You talked to people about it. You talked to me about it. You’ve learned and done so much, and then on the pier, and at the match, and with your friends…” Charlie reached shaking fingers over to touch Nick’s face. “And then, like the sex stuff. You don’t not know what you’re doing,” he said, voice quavering but stronger now. “Or at least, not alone,” he said, with a half-laugh.
“That’s right,” said Nick, chuckling wetly. “This is new to both of us, because we’re new together. I guess that’s probably true for any two people together, right? It’s always new because it’s always two new people together, figuring out what it looks like for them.”
Charlie nodded for a long moment before sliding close to Nick and embracing him, the two of them pulling against each other tightly. Nick didn’t know how long they lay there, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled, before finally separating, foreheads staying connected as a point of contact. “Thank you, Nick,” said Charlie, brushing the hair away from Nick’s eyes.
“For what?” asked Nick, closing his eyes against the soothing sensation.
“Everything,” said Charlie, his voice filled with emotion.
Nick smiled softly, kissing Charlie on the mouth. “Thank you,” he said. “For being the brilliant tree you are.” Charlie smiled, too, fingers still drawing through Nick’s hair. “Tonight, Char,” said Nick after a pause. “Tonight, can I treat you how you deserve to be treated? Can I take my time? Touch you?”
Charlie looked at him, eyes now darker, his pupils contracted and irises huge. “Nick…” he said, looking at Nick’s face.
“Can I, Charlie?”
“Yes,” whispered Charlie throatily, and Nick made a low rumbling sound.
“Thank you,” he said, meaning it. Nick wanted to show Charlie how precious, wonderful and deserving he was, both through his words and his actions.
Nick started by slowly undressing each of them - sliding Charlie’s shirt up over his arms, casting it to the side. Nick did the same with his own, pulling it off and then surging back down to attend to Charlie. Joggers and trousers were next, Nick splaying his fingers wide to push Charlie’s jeans down, maximising the amount of Charlie’s skin against his fingertips and palms before taking off his own, leaving him starkers. Finally, with an arched-back, breathless nod from Charlie, Nick slid off Charlie’s boxer-briefs, marvelling in the sight of this incredible man, nude in front of him on the duvet.
Nick had seen all of Charlie before, of course, but with their conversation and Charlie’s permission to let Nick fully treat Charlie the way he deserved, Nick was determined to take his time and celebrate every inch of Charlie Spring’s body.
Nick pulled a pillow to prop under Charlie’s head before he slid himself down to the end of the bed, running his hands down Charlie’s shins as he went. He started with Charlie’s feet, squeezing the arches and heels, massaging as he went. He looked up to see Charlie’s eyes watching him, and Nick gave him a liquid, soft smile before he went back to covering every inch of Charlie’s body with his hands, his mouth, his attention. Nick slowly drew his hands to Charlie’s ankles, fingers trailing over the fine bones there, feeling and rubbing each of them. Nick brought his hands up Charlie’s shins, tracing his fingernails through the dark hairs, stopping to tend to Charlie’s calves, cupping the muscles with firm pressure.
Charlie sighed from above him, a relaxed, sweet sound that made Nick indescribably happy. Nick moved his body, not just wanting to attend to Charlie with his hands. He wanted his whole body to be part of this, and he moved so that he could turn Charlie’s legs slightly outward, pressing kisses to the soft skin inside Charlie’s knees. Nick worked his way backwards, too, as he moved up Charlie’s body, pausing to touch Charlie’s foot or calf before he started to move up Charlie’s thighs.
After a bit, Nick straddled Charlie’s knees, resting on his shins. Nick leaned forward to walk his palms up Charlie’s thighs, kneading and massaging the muscles as he went. Nick went up and down Charlie’s strong quads, alternating the pressure, going hard and soft, teasing and firm. Charlie was breathing in long, pulling inhales and breathy exhales, the exhales tinged with moans and soft sounds of pleasure. Nick used his core to keep himself from falling on Charlie, leaning forwards to touch the sides of Charlie’s legs, not yet touching Charlie’s groin. Charlie was already hard, jutting into the air and making Nick’s spine feel like it was melting. He was long, longer than Nick, slender and perfect. Nick was eager to touch him, of course, but he was driven by all of Charlie, rather than just the parts between his legs. He was going to show Charlie how much he cared about all of those parts first.
Charlie jumped and moaned as Nick moved where he was straddling up Charlie’s legs fractionally, not enough for their hips to touch. Nick made his fingers soft and dancing, thumbs skimming along the soft white skin of Charlie’s hip creases. Nick sat back on his hips to press kisses there, Charlie murmuring and writhing slightly underneath him.
“Are you okay?” Nick whispered. “Too much?”
“Not enough,” Charlie laughed, the sound half a whine. “I want you to…”
“Soon,” said Nick, and the sultriness of his voice surprised even himself. “But not yet.” Nick moved again so that he was now straddling Charlie’s hips, both of them hard and pressing against each other. Charlie groaned when their erections nudged against each other, and Nick pulled Charlie’s hand away when he tried to touch Nick’s. “Please, Charlie,” Nick said. “Can this be about you?” He pinned Charlie’s hand over his head, keeping the contact light. “Please?”
Charlie nodded and swallowed, and Nick smiled. “Good,” Nick said, grinding once against Charlie before stilling his hips, working his hands up Charlie’s chest. He climbed off of Charlie, Charlie whining and throwing his head back, settling on his side to be able to have better access to Charlie’s chest. Nick pressed his palm against Charlie’s stomach and slid up Charlie’s chest, pausing and leaning over to mouth Charlie’s nipples, Charlie gasping again, his back arching off the bed.
Nick chucked lowly. “I thought you said you’d rather have no nipples rather than eight in the car the other day?”
Charlie groaned. “Wrong. I was wrong, Nick!” he said, voice rising as Nick used his hand on one and mouth on the other at the same time.
Nick stayed there for at least a minute, Charlie keening and moving around as Nick flicked his tongue, pulled softly with his teeth, kissed each pec and nipple. Then he kept moving, leaving a line of kisses down each of Charlie’s arms before focusing on the skin between Charlie’s pec and his arm, the skin that covered the tendon in front of Charlie’s armpit. Nick pressed his mouth there and dragged his lips up and down, Charlie inhaling sharply.
“I’ve never…no one’s ever…” Charlie murmured, words sounding melty.
Nick grinned to himself as he continued to work against the muscle with his lips. “That’s the point, isn’t it?” he muttered, drawing back up only long enough to say that. Nick had never done this either, paying attention to this part of someone’s body, but it felt so good and right. It didn’t matter what either one of them had done before with anyone else. It was just here, them, now. Nick inhaled the scent of Charlie, a heady rush of endorphins flooding his brain.
Nick moved his body to straddle Charlie’s again, Charlie making a low, desperate sound when their hips connected again. It was slick between them, both of their bodies clearly eager and wanting. Nick ignored that for now and pressed his chest against Charlie’s, propping himself up so that he could bite and kiss from Charlie’s shoulder to his jaw, focusing intently on the spots where Charlie’s head would pull back, soft sounds coming out of his mouth. Nick interspersed kisses with passionate nips and pulls of Charlie’s earlobes, Charlie’s body rocking back and forth, back and forth underneath him. Nick pulled away to push himself up slightly, hovering over Charlie.
Charlie looked at him, eyes dazed and blown-out, as Nick pulled Charlie’s hand up to his mouth. Charlie gasped and his back bowed off the bed as Nick opened his mouth, putting Charlie’s index finger on his tongue. He wrapped his mouth around the digit and sucked, electricity sparkling in his belly at the sounds that the man underneath him was making. Nick felt so deeply alive as he worked each of Charlie’s fingers, moving on to kiss and touch the sensitive skin on the inside of Charlie’s wrists with feather-light kisses.
Those feelings - those worries that he didn’t know what he was doing - those all were miles away, abandoned when Nick first touched Charlie tonight. Nick knew how he felt about Charlie. He knew how he wanted to worship Charlie’s body, to touch every inch of him and celebate how gorgeous Charlie was. And that’s all this was, or had to be. This was Nick, leaning into what it felt like to explore Charlie’s body. This was Charlie, allowing himself to experience what Nick was doing. It was them, figuring what it meant to be together and how they liked to touch one another. It was them, together.
Charlie was rolling his head back and forth as Nick worked his way back down Charlie’s torso, occasionally turning his cheek to the side to gently scrape Charlie’s skin with his stubble. Nick loved feeling the different sensations of all of these different ways of touching Charlie. The rough glide of his facial hair. The smooth give of Charlie’s skin. The silky whisper of Nick’s fingertips against Charlie’s goose-pimpled flesh.
Nick had no idea how long it had been - thirty minutes? An hour? An overdue lifetime? before he pulled Charlie to the edge of the bed, slowly dragging Charlie by the hips until his knees bent over the edge of the bed. Charlie lifted his head and moaned as Nick got off the bed, settling on the floor on his knees. Nick slid his hands from Charlie’s knees, pushing his thighs outwards, toying with the soft skin. He moved in closer and pressed his mouth to the tender skin right next to Charlie’s erection, moving his lips around but never on while Charlie moved underneath him.
Nick continued the tease as Charlie made sounds above him, his hands finding Nick’s hair and tightening, making Nick groan. He felt himself twitch, firmly turned on between his own legs, and refocused his attention on Charlie. Nick took Charlie in his hand and gently drew the head of Charlie’s penis against his cheek and down along the skin of his throat before suddenly changing tactics and taking Charlie in his mouth. Charlie let out a strangled cry of pleasure, a note of wanting and desire and satisfaction. Nick pulled at Charlie a few times with his mouth, one arm encircling Charlie’s thigh to keep himself balanced, the other drawing gently, pulling on Charlie’s bollocks.
Nick pulled off for a moment, hand still massaging and rolling, Charlie never stopping his movements. “Tell me when you’re close, okay?”
“Mrrmm…okay,” breathed Charlie, hips pulsing up and down, shifting side to side.
“Good,” murmured Nick before putting his mouth back on Charlie. He considered reaching back to touch Charlie - there, but figured that he’d need both permission and probably lube before broaching that new territory. God, Nick hoped that they did that this weekend. All of that. He shifted his hand from Charlie’s bollocks to Charlie’s shaft, using his mouth and hand in tandem.
It wasn’t long before Charlie tugged on Nick’s hair, making him moan around Charlie. That in turn made Charlie gasp and then struggle to speak for a moment, finally getting out, “I’m close, Nick.”
“Good,” said Nick again, fully pulling off. Charlie groaned when Nick did, hips bucking up into the air, chasing the lost sensation. Nick chuckled and kissed the inside of Charlie’s thighs, working down and squeezing his calves again. Nick massaged all the way down to Charlie’s feet and back up again as Charlie’s breath slowed from gasps and pants to deep, heavy inhales, coloured with the edge of a whimper. Nick lifted himself higher on his knees to lay kisses across Charlie’s belly before going back to his thighs, making Charlie cry out when Nick went right past his penis again to reach around, massaging his glutes with his hands.
Charlie’s hands tightened in Nick’s hair, pulling and driving Nick mad. His erection had waned a bit but now came back harder than before with the sensation. Charlie’s fingers tangled and tugged at his hair, a delicious ache that Nick wanted more of, always. He hummed in pleasure and then put his mouth back on Charlie. Nick knew that the sound Charlie made would fuel his fantasies on the nights when he was away in London for literal weeks.
Nick used his mouth and hand again, not going any harder or faster than he did the first round. Charlie’s fingers were stuttering and gripping in Nick’s hair, moaning as he did. His hips were stirring in sexy circles, nearly imperceptible tiny movements that stoked the fire in Nick’s belly. Charlie’s fingers untangled from Nick’s hair and Nick felt a tap against his shoulder, nearly frantic.
“Nick,” said Charlie, the words ragged and breathless. “I’m…I’m almost…god, Nick…Nick.” The repetition of Nick’s name, the sound that it was coming from Charlie’s mouth like this - Nick couldn’t stop this time, couldn’t prolong it any longer for Charlie.
He stayed on Charlie, keeping the same steady pressure with his mouth and hand. He’d gotten more familiar with the experience of what it was like to have Charlie finish in his mouth in the shower, and this time, when Charlie cried out, back arching, Nick didn’t draw back. He felt the release in his mouth and kept working Charlie with the same rhythm. Charlie seemed to last for ages, and Nick preened a bit to himself as Charlie moaned again and again until he finally clutched weakly at Nick’s shoulder.
Nick pulled himself up to join Charlie, whose arms were splayed wide, legs off the bed. He looked blissed out and utterly wrecked, and Nick allowed himself a swell of pride. He did that. He was the one who had made Charlie feel like that. Nick smiled at Charlie, whose eyes were closed, and leaned down to kiss Charlie’s legs, stomach, arms, neck. Charlie shivered and smiled faintly at the first kiss, making soft, breathy sounds as Nick traversed all over his body, avoiding brushing against anything overly sensitive.
Once Nick had covered every inch of Charlie’s body with kisses, he lay back and pulled Charlie onto his chest, Charlie flopping like a doll.
“I have no bones,” murmured Charlie sleepily. “You took all of them with your mouth and hands.”
“Sorry about that,” Nick said lightly. “Does that mean no more bone-rs for you ever?”
Charlie snorted and Nick chuckled. “I served that one right up for you, didn’t I.”
“You sure did.”
Charlie hummed and sighed deeply. “That was…” he looked up at Nick’s face, eyes on Nick’s. “That was literally the most intense experience of my life.”
Nick tried to suppress the tiny shimmy of his shoulders, but Charlie definitely caught him and chuckled. “Thank you,” Nick said primly, trying to cover up his slight embarrassment at his self-congratulatory movement.
Charlie giggled, and then settled down against Nick’s chest. His cheek was pressed against Nick’s pec, leg thrown over Nick’s hip. “You’re amazing, Nick,” he said quietly, and Nick’s heart swelled with an onrush of feeling. “Not just in bed, I mean,” said Charlie, lips quirking before he sobered. “But…all of that. All of this. I feel…god, I feel so safe with you, Nick.” He said that last part quietly, not looking at Nick when he did.
Nick had to swallow a few times past the lump in his throat, the emotions threatening to spill out of him again. He suddenly felt like enough. Not too much - but enough. Enough for Charlie. “I feel safe with you, too, Char.”
Charlie hummed again and traced a pattern with his finger against Nick’s chest. His fingers moved down, travelling towards Nick’s hips as Charlie started to shift his body. “Now it’s your turn,” said Charlie in a velvety voice, already beginning to move down.
“Nope,” said Nick, catching Charlie by the arm and pulling him back, Charlie looking at him, perplexed. “Not tonight,” Nick said. “You don’t owe me an orgasm, Charlie. You don’t owe me anything. Being with you is what I want. Sometimes being with you involves coming for me, yeah. But not tonight.” Nick smiled at the astonished look on Charlie’s face, then gently pushed until Charlie was laying on his stomach. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some massaging to do.” He set himself up, crossing the room to get some lotion from his toiletry kit.
Nick settled back down and started massaging, working the muscles of Charlie’s back, legs, arms. Charlie had momentarily tensed when Nick started, ready to protest, but had quickly relaxed into it, making soft moans as Nick ran his thumbs and fingers all up and down his body. The minutes passed by, time feeling slippery and inconsequential when Nick was with Charlie and touching Charlie.
Nick thought that Charlie had gone to sleep at one point, his breath steady and noises quiet. He startled a bit when Charlie spoke. “Nick?”
“Yeah, Char?” asked Nick, leaning forward from where he was straddling Charlie’s thighs as he massaged Charlie. His chest pressed against the warm skin of Charlie’s back as he pressed his mouth close to Charlie’s ear.
“Tomorrow, Nick,” said Charlie in a sultry voice that made Nick’s entire body tense with eager, shimmering anticipation. “Tomorrow.”
It wasn’t long before Charlie did drop off to sleep, Nick gently getting off of him to get ready for bed and cover Charlie with the duvet. As he closed his own eyes, that gorgeous, smouldering word kept swirling around Nick’s mind, filled with stomach-tingling promise.
Tomorrow.
Notes:
With the boys still away, here is another dinner recipe I like that I think I mentioned in an earlier chapter, for mushroom-barley risotto.
Ingredients:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion chopped
2 cloves garlic minced
½ cup dry white wine
8 ounces mixed mushrooms (clean them first!)
3-4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup pearl barley
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
¼ cup shredded parmesan cheese
salt & pepper to tasteHeat the olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and until soft, about 4 minutes. Turn the heat to medium-low. Add the mushrooms and garlic and cook for 5 minutes, stirring on occasion. Add the barley and cook for 2 more minutes.
Pour in the white wine and cook until it has evaporated. Add 3 cups of broth and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat again, covering and simmering. Stir occasionally, cooking for about 50-60 minutes until the liquid is gone. If the liquid is gone before the barley is cooked, add the remaining broth.
Once the barley is soft, stir in half the cheese, salt, pepper, and parsley. Top with remaining cheese and any other toppings you desire.
Chapter 27: Together
Summary:
Last Time: Nick and Charlie talked about the “fwippitafwippita” sound that cardstock makes when you flap it. Also, they’re boyfriends and talked about being in public with each other and Nick worshipped Charlie’s body like he deserves.
This Time: Smut. I won’t lie to you.
Notes:
As always, waveofyou and NellieSayzBork just making my days and my writing better. Wavey, who wrote the masterpiece Narlie Waves and is now writing The Write-Up always makes sure these boys are mentally safe. NSB, who had a catalogue of so many works and is currently writing As You Are, has a keen eye for making sure the characters stay true to who they are and stay in touch with their emotions. Both of you are wonderful!
Careful - thar be smut in these waters. Like, 9K words of smut. (Feelings-heavy and highly consensual, but I know it is not for everyone!).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
That was it. Nick was staying here, in this rented two-bedroom cottage in Clevedon, forever. Why would he ever leave? Nick moved slowly in the morning light, laying horizontally across the bed with his head resting on Charlie’s chest. He and Charlie had woken up early, both of their body clocks adjusted to the hours of Lavender Fields. With nothing to do and nowhere they had to go, they had lingered now for over three hours, laughing, talking, cuddling, kissing - god, Nick loved the kissing still after almost four weeks - and drifting back to sleep on occasion.
Charlie had fallen asleep again, but Nick was completely awake now. He had taken advantage of the moment, shifting his position so that his cheek was on Charlie’s chest. This way, Nick could look at Charlie’s face as he slept, smiling softly to himself as he took in the truly spectacular man who was going to be staying at Lavender Fields. They hadn’t talked about how long yet - but still, Charlie was staying. He was staying for Nick and no other reason. Nick kept trying to justify other reasons why Charlie would stay - the fresh air, the home-cooked meals, the…cows? - but the reality was that even with no other justification, Charlie was staying to spend time with Nick. That still astonished him, and he closed his eyes in contented bliss. He was…Nick wasn’t too much for Charlie. That felt - that felt truly amazing.
Charlie woke up a few minutes later, thankfully both groggy and slow-blinkingly enough to let Nick pretend like he hadn’t been watching his boyfriend sleep like an absolute creep. An extremely head-over-heels-for-his-boyfriend creep.
After more cuddling, dressing-only-to-get-undressed-again, and lots of slow kisses, Nick and Charlie went out to a late breakfast. Nick was nearly overcome with delight when Charlie hesitatingly took his hand, reaching over and sliding his fingers into Nick’s. Nick didn’t say anything, but he gave Charlie’s hand a squeeze and ran his thumb over Charlie’s forefinger as they walked.
They had spoken once more that morning about being together in public, Nick feeling like he had a responsibility to tell Charlie all of it, even as much as he didn’t want to scare Charlie with the potential uglier sides. Nick didn’t want to overestimate his own importance - he was no longer playing, and outside of Leeds, he was maybe a C level celebrity, if that. Still, nonheterosexuality was still bafflingly scandalous and scintillating for headlines, so Nick knew that there would be at least something written about him and his sexuality at some point on some site. Nick had even told Charlie about his own worries for Charlie; that someone would look up information on him, call his friends and family, all of that invasive bullshit. Charlie had been calm and reassuring, seemingly unruffled by all of it.
“It’s fine, Nick,” he said that morning, when their bodies were still tucked together in bed. “I know you’re worried about me, but I’m not.” Charlie shrugged and grinned. “They wouldn’t find much on me; I’m really not that interesting.”
Nick sighed, still anxious despite Charlie’s nonchalance. “It’s just…I just don’t want anyone thinking they have the right to infringe on your life,” he said. “I want to be with you. I want us to be public. I just want to be sure that I don’t sugarcoat it for you, what could happen. People could ask you for interviews, or like, ask around at your work,” Nick pestered. When Charlie didn’t have a strong reaction to that, Nick pointed at him. “And don’t call my boyfriend uninteresting.”
Charlie laughed. “Don’t tell me what to do; my boyfriend will beat you up.” They both chuckled and Charlie snuggled closer to Nick, kissing him on the head. It sent a rush of comfort through Nick’s body like he’d rarely experienced. Charlie made him feel so taken care of in a way that made Nick’s heart ache. It was a comfort that he felt like he hadn’t experienced since he was a child, a tender caring with no strings attached. “If something happened, I feel like…” Charlie’s voice was both soft and strong, like these were new words, but ones he truly trusted. “I feel like we’d figure it out together.”
Nick swallowed against the lump in his throat. God, he was glad they had finally talked last night. Today felt like a new day entirely for both of them, a brighter one with less murky shadows, less wondering. They were doing all of this together. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. Nick cleared his throat. “We would.”
And now, here they were. They were holding hands on an overcast day in Clevedon, clouds having rolled in overnight. It was brilliantly awful weather, grey and cold, and Nick didn’t care. It was like there was a continual ray of sunshine over his life right now. They’d looked at menus in bed for a bit, Charlie picking one that sounded good to him. Nick and Charlie strolled hand in hand, occasionally pointing things out to one another. Nick didn’t know how good it would feel to stop in front of a store window and put his arm around Charlie. He had no clue how life-altering it would be to walk into a restaurant together and gently touch Charlie’s wrist as they went to the table. And Nick wasn’t prepared for what it felt like to look at each other the way Nick always wanted to look at Charlie - openly and without caring what someone else might think.
Based on Charlie’s body language, Nick suspected he felt the same. Even in the two hours that they were in town, Nick could feel a shift in Charlie’s energy. That first time Charlie had taken Nick’s hand that day, it felt halting and like Charlie was seeking permission. By the time they walked out of the restaurant, Charlie held the door for Nick with a grin and an outstretched hand, joining their fingers together as they walked back to the cottage, stopping first by the sea. They gazed out over the water, Nick behind Charlie, holding him close. It was so simple and so world-changing: Nick had wanted to put his arms around Charlie, and so he had. It felt like a private kind of magic just for them, the permission they had given themselves to be with each other.
“It’s almost like being back at Lavender Fields,” murmured Charlie, his words dampened by the wind.
Nick tightened his arms around Charlie. “Yeah, but the waves at the farm are way bigger.”
He could hear the grin in Charlie’s voice. “Dick.” Nick laughed and nuzzled into Charlie’s neck, Charlie yelping a little when the tip of Nick’s cold nose touched his skin. “I mean…like this. Like us just getting to be together.”
“I thought about that too,” Nick said. “At the match. It was like - it was still just you and me, like it was back at the inn. But it was like…it’s like I forgot that the rest of the world existed, too. When we were there, I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” said Charlie, reaching up an arm, his fingers sliding into Nick’s hair. Nick hummed happily. They stood there in silence for a moment, enjoying each other and the view, grey clouds meeting slate water in an endless expanse. “When’s your mum coming back again?”
“Thursday, actually,” said Nick. It would be different to have his mum in the house, of course. However, Sarah had proven to be wonderfully aware of privacy during Nick’s late teenage years, and the house was large and sectioned off enough that Nick wasn’t really worried.
Charlie turned his long, gorgeous neck and grinned at Nick. One look like that from Charlie and Nick knew he was in trouble. “Guess we’ll need to be as raucous as possible before then,” Charlie said with a sultry smirk.
A tiny line of flame flickered its way down Nick’s belly, stoking the embers always there whenever he was with Charlie. “There’ll be guests,” he said, pretending like he was entirely unaffected by Charlie’s words. Even though it was probably very clear to Charlie that Nick was acting. Damn, Nick needed to stop wearing joggers.
Charlie turned in Nick’s arms and kissed his neck, making Nick gasp. “Why would there be guests?” he said, the words interspersed with the movement of his lips, a hard-soft combination that was not helping Nick’s bathing suit area issue.
“Seeking…a bed…and or…breakfast,” Nick got out, struggling to focus on the words.
“That…is homophobia,” said Charlie between touches of his mouth.
“I know,” said Nick, feeling his thighs tremble as Charlie slid his fingers of one hand under Nick’s shirt, pressing against his flesh. It wasn’t just the cold making him shiver.
“In that case we’ll have to be as raucous as possible tonight,” said Charlie, pulling away from Nick and taking his hand as he led him off towards the cottage. He gave Nick an intense look as Nick stood, frozen in eagerness.
Once they got in the door, the real shift in energy started. They were barely inside when Charlie turned and pressed Nick against the wall, Nick grunting in pleased surprise. The smile was still on his face when Charlie’s lips pressed against his, seeking and eager. Nick’s smile quickly changed into something more hungry, his skin heating up as Charlie ripped at Nick’s jacket, pulling the neck of his jumper a bit too and exposing part of his shoulder. Nick’s head fell back as Charlie leaned forward to rake his teeth over the skin, soothing the momentary heat of the scrape with the soft, velvety touch of his tongue. Nick wasn’t sure what the sound that came out of him was, but it was one of pure desire and wanting.
Charlie had Nick pressed against the wall, running his hands up and down Nick’s chest and abdomen under his shirt. Their bodies were rolling together, waves on an ocean, never stopping. Nick never wanted to stop. They were kissing - Charlie’s hands were everywhere. Touching Nick’s abs, making him pull in his stomach tightly, the sensation tingling and perfect. Fingers in his hair, then cupping his arse. Hands, tugging down his joggers, hands reaching for him-
“Wait,” said Nick, trying to get in enough air.
Charlie stopped immediately, looking at Nick, frozen. “Yeah? What’s - what…”
“No, everything’s fine, Charlie,” said Nick. He looked down at himself, a jutting manifestation of just how truly “fine” he was. “I just, um…” he reached down to pull Charlie up, manoeuvring them over to the couch. “I wanted to see. Do you still - last night we talked about having, like, full-on sex.” Charlie snorted and Nick blushed. “God, am I fifteen?”
“I’ve seen your refractory period, at least some part of you is fifteen.”
Nick laughed. They were close together, jackets off, Nick’s joggers pulled messily up. “Would you - would you be up for that? You - on top?”
Charlie looked at him, and Nick was momentarily staggered by the heat, intensity, and vulnerability in Charlie’s eyes. It was a mix of everything Nick felt, too. “I…I would, yeah.”
“You would? Or you want to?”
“I want to,” Charlie clarified, wrapping a hand around the back of Nick’s neck. “I just - I like, I haven’t done that…ever. Topped, I mean.”
“Do you like it? Bottoming usually, I mean?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, cheeks rosy in the light still diffusing in from the closed curtains.
“Is that why you usually do it?”
Charlie paused, considering. “I guess?” He stopped, his breath a bit shallower as he paused, seeming lost in thought. “I think it was also just what I was, like, supposed to do. Like - I don’t know. It was, like, the expectation?” Nick nodded slowly, though it wasn’t in agreement but consideration. “I guess there have been stereotypes, you know?” Charlie snorted. “Seems kind of dumb when I say it out loud. Like, it’s already not a stereotype of a relationship, two guys. Funny that there are still stereotypes with this, too. Or can be.”
Nick smiled and moved closer to Charlie. “So…what do you think about tonight, then?”
Charlie looked at him, eyes darker than normal. “I…I do want to try that,” he said quietly. “I mean, it’ll be new, you know? For both of us, I mean. I do like to bottom, but…I mean - you might, too?”
“I might, yeah,” said Nick, the smile uncontrollable across his face even while they talked about this. It was because they could talk about this that he couldn’t stop smiling. Nick loved how they could talk. “I might like topping, too. Or both.”
“Or both,” Charlie echoed.
There was a beat of silence. “So,” said Nick. “Tonight…?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, the smile spreading slow, a combination of nerves and lust. “I just might not totally know what I’m doing.”
Nick shrugged. “Me neither. So we’ll figure it out together, right? I’m sure we can.”
Charlie giggled and held up one forefinger, making the other hand into an O with his forefinger and thumb, hitting them together and missing on purpose every time. “Like this?”
Nick laughed, loudly. “Exactly.” He was eager and anticipatory, feeling like he was vibrating with energy. This was new. It was thrilling. It was a little scary, just in the novelty and not knowing what it would feel like. But it was with Charlie. It was with Charlie.
They spent a lot of time preparing - a lot. Nick had read a ton about the lead-up parts to receiving sex and he spent some time in the loo and then the shower before returning to Charlie, who was now on the king bed. His mild embarrassment was immediately mitigated when Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick, warm and caring. Nick fell into Charlie’s arms, his back pressed against Charlie’s chest as they lay there, both of them already nude. It was rare (if ever) that he had been held like this until Charlie, not when he was expected to be the literal bigger person, always the big spoon. In Charlie’s arms, Nick felt protected, safe, cared for - maybe loved. Not that Charlie loved him, of course, but Nick felt loving energy and knew that this would be good. No matter what the actual sex looked like, no matter how fumbling or unsure either of them were, it would be good. Because it was them.
Cuddling turned into kissing, Nick stretching his neck long to kiss Charlie. The kisses started softer, quickly heating into something more. Nick had felt the nerves when they first touched each other, the tiny tremble in each of their fingertips, both embarking on something new. But at least for Nick, the change came as they fell into the same charged, wanting patterns with one another. They knew each other. They might not know this particular act, but they knew their bodies, the way that they could touch each other’s bodies. This would be fine. It would be good. It would be fucking incredible.
Nick felt almost desperate as skin touched skin, crazed in his desire to be as close to Charlie as possible. Their bodies were moving against each other, Charlie’s hips rolling behind him in the sexiest motion that Nick could ever imagine. Nick was arching his back and moving too, unable to stay still, not with the rush of heat and passion through his body. Nick whimpered as Charlie’s erection slipped between his cheeks. It wasn’t a sound of anxiety or fear, it was one of utter, delicious wanting. Nick wanted this. He wanted Charlie. He wanted everything for them.
Charlie moaned too, both of them aware of the way their bodies were touching. Charlie stilled his hips for a minute, like he was wondering what Nick might do or think. Nick didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop, moving his hips in a plaintive attempt to get Charlie to keep exploring. He sighed with aching relief when Charlie did move again, slipping up between Nick’s cheeks, brushing past his entrance. Even that friction was incredible, tingling anticipation of what was to come. Nick threw his head back as their bodies continued to writhe sinuously with one another's, muscles and skin sliding, damp with perspiration.
Nick’s breath hitched when Charlie put his mouth close to Nick’s ear, his voice low. “Do you want to lay down on the bed?”
Nick could barely even think, the words taking a moment to travel to his brain. “Yeah,” he said without thinking, not even considering what for. He reluctantly pulled himself from Charlie’s arms to stretch long on the bed, laying on his stomach. It felt exposing and vulnerable and trusting and right. The soft fabric felt amazing against his bare skin, and the endorphins flowing through his body just upped the heady, blissful sensation. He was distantly aware that Charlie was moving, pulling a pillow down from the top of the bed and then sliding down Nick’s back, fingers, caressing the skin along the muscles.
“I like it sometimes when…maybe slide this under your hips?” murmured Charlie.
Nick struggled to open his eyes against how melty and amazing he felt. He did and looked at Charlie, blinking and smiling as he looked into the gorgeous blue. “What for?” he asked as he tucked the pillow underneath. God, even just the friction of the fabric against him was mind-blowing. Nick was already hard, almost impossibly so. Charlie had told him that they were going to take their time to get Nick ready, and that if sex didn’t happen, it just didn’t happen, and that was okay. Nick was comforted by that thought, but at the moment, the idea of doing things with Charlie for hours almost seemed torturous. He didn’t know how his dick was going to survive.
Charlie’s voice was a little shyer now. “I want to…can I use my mouth on you? Like - start to get you ready with my mouth?”
Nick twisted his head in surprise, feeling how large his eyes were as he stared at Charlie. “You would…you’d do that?”
Charlie nodded, a slight flush on his cheeks. “I, uh - for me,” he said haltingly. “It feels really, really good for me. And in the past - like, before Ben - it was something that helped me get ready. I’ve been - since I’ve rarely done this before, I’ve read a lot, and…”
He trailed off and Nick had to grin, turning on his side and pulling Charlie close. “Oh, good, I’m glad I’m not the only one with an apparently filthy Google search history.”
Charlie blinked and laughed, rolling his head back as they cuddled again, chest to chest. “Larry Page would be rolling over in his grave right now.”
“The founder of Google? I’m pretty sure he’s still alive, Charlie…”
“Oh. Well, then, sorry to this man.”
Nick laughed loudly. This was consummate Nick and Charlie, sex or not. Taking a moment to laugh and be silly, not making anything too serious. They were both doing something new for the first time, and they’d do it together. Well, them and an optimised search engine that was probably going to produce some really interesting targeted ads in the next few days.
“So…” said Charlie against Nick’s hair, his mouth again close to Nick’s ear and making him shiver. “Are you okay with that? With me doing that to you?”
Nick nodded before responding. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “If you’re really okay with that.”
Charlie bit Nick’s earlobe and Nick threw his head back again, letting out a cry of intense pleasure. “I am,” he said.
Nick breathed deeply through his nose as Charlie lifted himself off Nick and began to travel down his back, letting his fingers drift over Nick’s skin. Charlie ran his hands all the way down to Nick’s feet and then back up his legs, settling behind Nick. Charlie pressed Nick’s knees apart and Nick took in a shaky breath, aware that he was exposing a part of himself to someone else so nakedly for the first time. Not just in the literal sense, either - this felt naked in terms of how stripped down Nick was with his vulnerability. He breathed past the faint lingering embarrassment and instead breathed in the knowledge that this was Charlie. This was his Charlie, the person who made him feel safer than anyone else he knew.
“Fuck, Nick,” breathed Charlie, and Nick’s stomach tensed into a squirmy, pleased mass at the intense sound of Charlie’s voice. “You’re so - you’re so fucking hot.”
“Like…this?” Nick asked, pleased and slightly flushed.
“Like this,” said Charlie, something like wonder in his voice. “Are you okay?” he asked, sliding a hand onto Nick’s hip and giving him a grounding squeeze, hands feeling firmer and more confident now. “Still green?”
“Yeah,” said Nick back. He truly was.
“Okay then,” said Charlie, and then Nick’s world was destroyed and created anew.
How - how had Nick gone through life not experiencing this? How did - Charlie said he had never - this was - oh god. Charlie was amazing. Charlie was a marvel. Charlie was a god. Charlie was a - ohmygodwhatwashedoingyesohmygodyespleasedontstop. Charlie gripped Nick’s bum cheeks in his hands, and Nick almost needed that pressure to ground him so he didn’t float away. Charlie’s tongue was magic, his mouth spine-melting. Nick was lost in pleasure and feeling, unable to think more than a fragment of a thought at a single time.
Warm - so warm and wet and, so… yes
How did he know…how does he know how to…
Want to make Charlie feel this, want to feel-
Inside!!! Charlie was - his tongue - Charlie had gone - oh god
Not real. This couldn’t be - this was dirty and right and hot
Dontstopdontstopdontstop
Nick was moving and trying not to move, not knowing the proper etiquette of how to behave when someone was doing this. He fleetingly grinned to himself, thinking of submitting a letter to an advice columnist when a skillful application of Charlie’s tongue caused him to jerk, his abdomen tightening. Any movement against the pillow brushed against his dick, and Nick was swooning with the combination of feelings. He wanted to use a hand on himself but also very much didn’t, enjoying the feeling of Charlie being the one touching Nick for now. He settled for writhing slightly, the friction taking a margin of the edge off. It was excruciatingly perfect.
Nick couldn’t suppress the moan that came out of him when Charlie drew back, whining and grinding his hips against the pillow. He remembered a phrase he had read once when he had read some romance book from ages ago, when a character ‘mourned the loss’ of another’s mouth. God, Nick was sorry for the eye roll that he had read that sentence with now. Now, he understood, and mourned so deeply.
Charlie kissed each of his bum cheeks once, making both of them giggle. “I’ll be right back,” said Charlie before reaching between Nick’s legs and giving him a quick squeeze with his hand, making Nick gasp. Nick heard the water running in the bathroom, and Charlie came out a few minutes later. Nick has stayed where he was, desperate to touch himself and desperate to prolong this wanting feeling for as long as possible. He had never felt like this, where every cell of his body was keening, actively aching for…something. Charlie immediately got back on the bed and slid along Nick’s back, running his hands over Nick’s shoulders.
“Feeling okay?” asked Charlie, now kissing the side of Nick’s neck with feathery, whisper-light touches of his lips that was making Nick feel dizzy. Nick loved to hear his voice, less tentative now.
“I feel like my brain font is Wingdings right now,” murmured Nick, making Charlie snort with laughter.
“Oh my god, you absolute nerd,” giggled Charlie. “What a throwback.”
“Your nerd,” said Nick automatically.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, and Nick could hear the smile in his voice. “My nerd.”
Nick rolled over and slid off the pillow, Charlie leaning on his chest. He couldn’t get the smile off his own face. Charlie’s eyes darted down to Nick’s hips and he raised an eyebrow, more than a hint of menace on his face. “Liked that, did you?”
“Liked?” asked Nick incredulously. “God, Charlie,” he said, shaking his head. “That was…if sex is anything like that, I’m about to rue wasting the last fourteen years of my life.”
Charlie looked like he was doing a quick calculation in his head, grinning. “Ah, so seventeen-year-old Nick Nelson. Getting some for the first time.”
“I don’t want to brag, but I lasted more than eight seconds,” said Nick, making Charlie snort and laugh.
“Oh, stop making me jealous,” said Charlie, giggling and pressing his cheek against Nick’s chest.
“Just you wait,” said Nick in a warning tone. “It’s me tonight, yeah, but when it’s your turn…I’ll give you the best three inches of the worst thirty seconds of your life.”
Charlie fell back laughing, Nick joining in. They leaned their foreheads together, giggling with their faces close together. Nick loved this. He loved all of this. He loved that they could go from intense passion, both of them exploring each other’s bodies with abandon and trust, and in the next second, dissolve into laughter at one of Nick’s stupid jokes. Nick loved that about Charlie. Nick loved…everything about Charlie.
When Charlie looked back at Nick again, his face was intense, like what Nick would say truly mattered to him. “I want…” Charlie looked away and then back at Nick. “I know the type of prep that feels good for me. And if it’s been a while, sometimes it takes a lot of prep and a good amount of time. You…I want you to take all the time you need, Nick. We’ll take all the time you need,” said Charlie, and Nick felt a pang in his chest. He had a suspicion that in Charlie’s last relationship, Charlie probably hadn’t felt like he had the time, space, and care he was so clearly making sure Nick felt as though he had. “So if you still want to keep going tonight, we’ll go slow. And tonight might just be prep and, like, practice, and that’ll be great. We don’t need to do anything.”
Nick felt his throat tighten again. There was that word again, centred in his brain. Safe. Nick felt so utterly safe with Charlie. That safety gave him the foundation for literally everything. With that behind him, Nick felt comfortable talking about things, whether emotional or physical. He was able to be vulnerable, knowing that Charlie wasn’t going to judge him or think that he was bad or wrong. With that communication and vulnerability, Nick felt entirely ready for this, for more with Charlie. The safety let him free-fall into passion and wanting, knowing that he’d be caught. That they’d catch each other.
“I want more, Charlie,” Nick said, touching Charlie’s face and pulling Charlie close, their hips flush to one another’s. “I want everything.” He said that last word with a sharp tug of Charlie’s hips against his, jerking Charlie’s body closer and feeling them grind against each other. All anxiety was gone. It didn’t matter who had done what. They were doing what felt good and right with each other. Every touch on one another’s bodies was more confident, more certain.
“I want…you, Nick,” said Charlie in a gravelly voice, and Nick felt his entire world wobble on its axis. “Can you turn back over?”
“Yeah,” breathed Nick. “What do I…how do you want me to…?”
“Like this,” said Charlie, positioning Nick. He moved Nick so that Nick was propped up with his chest on several pillows, half-sitting up. Charlie moved one of Nick’s knees up so that it was bent at an angle, the other leg long behind him. “Can I…can I touch you now?” Nick heard a small click in Charlie’s throat, like he had swallowed. Nick’s tongue felt too large for his mouth and he let his jaw fall slightly open, breath picking up.
“Yes, Char,” said Nick, shivering with anticipation. He heard the sound of Charlie opening a bottle of lube and was momentarily grateful that he was laying down, not sure if his legs would support him at this point.
“Relax as much as you can, baby,” said Charlie, and Nick felt a shudder go through his entire body. Baby. Charlie had called him baby. Nick…god, Nick liked that. “Keep talking to me, okay? Let me know how it feels, how you’re feeling?” Charlie’s voice was just perceptibly different now. Less hesitant. More sure, with more glimmering confidence.
“I will,” said Nick, nodding and breathing, trying to relax his body like he’d read about.
Charlie started slowly and tenderly with one finger, light and teasing around Nick’s entrance before using lube to slowly and gently enter Nick. He was endlessly patient over the next stretch of time, never pushing Nick, pausing until Nick relaxed and gave him the cue to move. Slowly, achingly and perfectly slowly, they went from the tip of a finger to a finger to two. Nick had no idea how much time passed. He felt like they were in an odd time warp, one where it could have been seconds and it could have been hours. They’d taken breaks as they progressed, sometimes stopping entirely to give Nick a break or to cuddle, whispering and laughing through their noses at a private joke with each other as they went.
None of it was unpleasant, just - new. It took a bit of getting used to, every new movement and every addition of sensation. Each time Charlie would do something new, Nick would breathe into it, with Charlie checking in. Once the newness wore off, it made room for other feelings. And god, those feelings. Pleasure, desire, the craving of more - Nick felt all of those. Two fingers became one again, and then back to two. Two fingers moved in a scissoring motion to help Nick open more, Charlie telling him how incredible he was, making Nick feel as though his entire body was loose and liquid. Nick was ready to beg Charlie to do more, give him more, make it three fingers when Nick felt an explosion of electricity rocket through his body. He jolted forward, wide-eyed.
“What was that?!” he squeaked, voice several octaves higher than normal.
Charlie chuckled, his hand now still, cheek against Nick’s back. “That was your prostate,” he said, voice teasing. “Haven’t you had your physical before?”
Nick laughed, the sound a little wild. “Uh, I would have tipped my doctor if it felt like that,” he said, still feeling the sizzles throughout his body, pulsating with every beat of his heart. “That was…”
“Was that okay?” asked Charlie, his voice more serious now, intent on Nick’s answer.
“God, yeah,” said Nick. He felt a little silly even thinking about it, but he had thought the things he’d read about the prostate were kind of made up. Like, yeah, he’d done the whole “check” thing before for the doctor, but this was…this was… “Can you, uh - can you do that again?”
“This?” asked Charlie, pressing against a spot with his fingers that quite literally made Nick see stars.
“Yes! Oh, god - that, yes, yes - oh…” Nick was writhing against the pillow now. It had been so long and Nick had been so hard and this was all so amazing. He needed to come. He needed to prolong this. He needed to never stop feeling this way. He needed to be with Charlie. He needed to feel Charlie inside of him. He needed…he needed everything, all at once. “I want…” Nick let his head roll to the side, groaning as Charlie released the pressure on that spot and withdrew his hand. “I want more. I want you.”
“Almost, baby,” said Charlie, and Nick moaned again, the combined loss of Charlie’s hand and that word again - baby - melting his muscles. Charlie used three fingers now, and it was the same as before, the roiling feelings merging and melting into one another, each one blown away like shifting sand until only arousal and pleasure remained.
New, gasp, wait.
Settle, feel, breathe.
Move, breathe, feel.
Feel, melt, crave.
Want.
Charlie was reading Nick’s body, like he was watching and reacting to Nick’s movements. Charlie just cared so much about him. Nick wanted Charlie to feel the same degree of care every time Nick touched him. They were long past the newness for each of them, lost in a humid fog of arousal, sweat, and sex. Charlie constantly checked in as his fingers flexed and thrust inside Nick, every drive forward making Nick’s whole body pulse with feeling. And every time, Nick was the best, the best he had ever been, the best there ever was. He was alive, crackling and effervescing. Every part of him was open to Charlie, open and aching for more. His body, his heart, his entire life. All of it. Charlie’s hand was…it was…
“I want…” Nick panted, not able to make words quite the way he should be able to. “I want you,” he finally got out. “Charlie…I want you. I want you - not your hand. I want you in me.”
A low noise came out of Charlie, one that seemed to come from deep in his chest. Charlie withdrew his hand and slid back up Nick’s body, lips brushing against Nick’s ear. “I want you too, Nick,” he murmured in a husky whisper, and Nick shuddered. He drew back from Nick and Nick rolled on his side to watch every beautiful movement of his body. Charlie went back into the bathroom and got out a box of condoms, bringing them over to the bedside table. “Do you feel ready, Nick?” Charlie froze for a moment and then laughed at himself, shaking his head. “That felt like that movie line…”
Nick laughed too, interrupting. “Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you?” He grinned at Charlie. “And yes, I feel very ready.” He glanced at the box of condoms and then Charlie again. “I guess - we didn’t talk about that, did we?”
Charlie looked down at the box, too. “Oh, no, I guess we didn’t. I just assumed we’d want to use them?”
“I’m absolutely happy to,” said Nick. “I also haven’t - I haven’t done anything with anyone since Marla, and have gotten checked since then; all clear.” He cleared his throat. All of this was important to talk about, and it was Charlie. They could talk about anything. “Have - have you gotten checked? Since…”
Charlie scowled, but it didn’t seem to be at him. “Yeah,” he said glaring down at the box of condoms in his hand. “I got checked after I was at Lavender Fields that first time, actually.” Charlie winced, looking pained. “I ended up hearing from some mutual friends right after things ended that he - that Ben had been sneaking around. For years, literally. I wanted to make sure I didn’t…that he didn’t pass something along to me without me knowing.”
Nick felt his fist curling. Fucking B. Hope. “Fuck, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
Charlie shrugged. “Kind of fits, doesn’t it?” He sighed, then looked at Nick and his eyes seemed to clear a bit. “But yeah, fortunately nothing came up, and I did a full panel.”
Nick turned to fully sit up, taking Charlie’s hand as Charlie sat on the bed with him. “I mean, yeah, that’s good. But you never deserved to be treated like that in general.”
“I know that now,” Charlie said softly, and Nick nearly teared up. Charlie sounded like he truly knew that now, and the way he was looking at Nick, Nick felt what was in Charlie’s words. You showed me that. Nick felt a rush of intense, deep affection for Charlie wash over him. They were both growing, healing themselves from their past relationships. They were two whole people, standing with each other. Charlie was helping Nick see himself the way Charlie saw him, and vice versa. It was…it was more than Nick could imagine.
“So,” said Nick softly. “Condoms. I’m fine if you don’t want to use one with me, you know, bottoming,” he said, a flush of warmth going through as he realised that he didn’t even feel embarrassment about that now. “We’re both STI-free, and I know that for me, at least, I don’t have any interest in doing anything with anyone else.” Ever. “I completely trust and endorse whatever decision you want to make, too - and saying that you want to use a condom isn’t saying you want to see other people, of course. It’s whatever makes you comfortable.”
Charlie looked at Nick for a long moment, then leaned forward and kissed Nick softly. It was almost chaste, gentle and sweet. It dissolved Nick’s tendons and left him a soft heap, held onto together by Charlie’s hands, pressed against his chest. “I…I don’t want to be with anyone else. And-” he held up a hand before Nick could protest that that wasn’t a reason alone to not use a condom. “And…yeah. We’re monogamous and we’ve both tested and are clear.” He laughed, sniffing through his nose. “I guess we could have talked about this before we had other kinds of sex before this, too,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes at himself.
“Oh, yeah,” Nick replied, also chuckling. “I think I was too focused on my mouth being on certain other things that I didn’t even think to ask.”
“You and me both,” said Charlie wryly. They smiled at each other before Charlie spoke again. “If you’re okay - truly okay - with no condom, I am, too.”
“I am,” said Nick, pulling Charlie in for a kiss. Their mouths met and what started sweet quickly arced into something more charged, more stomach-swoopingly intense. Nick’s erection had finally waned as they talked (at that point, he felt like one of those American medical adverts that warned against the dangers of being hard for four or more hours), but it took nearly no time at all until they were both straining, hips bumping and rolling against each other. Charlie grasped Nick’s hair in his hands and was pulling with every thrust of his hips against Nick’s and Nick was dying. He moaned as their bodies connected, pressing and releasing as they arched and released, over and over.
Finally Charlie kissed him long and hard, tongue lingering. “Do you want to try - like, maybe go back to how you were laying before? I know that’s felt nice for me in the past.” He guided Nick back towards the pillows, his chest propped up, one knee bent. Nick wrapped his arms around one of the pillows, body crackling with shivery, electric anticipation. He watched Charlie position himself behind Nick, standing on his knees. Nick breathed in a shaky breath as Charlie pressed his whole body against Nick’s, wrapping his body around Nick’s with a comforting, grounding sensation.
“You okay?”
Nick turned his head and kissed Charlie before answering, trying to pour how he felt for this man - this perfect man - into the kiss. “I’m ready,” he said throatily, barely recognising his own voice.
“I’m going to go slow,” said Charlie. Nick could hear a tiny tremble in Charlie’s voice, like he was as close to bursting with feeling as Nick was. “I won’t move until you tell me, okay?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, an edge of a whine to his voice. “Charlie…I want - I want…”
“I want you, Nick,” said Charlie, kissing the back of his neck before pulling back and standing on his knees again, prepping himself and Nick with lubrication.
Nick breathed through his nose as Charlie pressed against him, poised at his entrance. “I’m ready, Char…” He couldn’t suppress the hiccup-like sound of surprise when Charlie moved forward slowly, the heat and pressure surprising. Nick had read that a penis was very different from fingers, and this was one occasion where the internet hadn’t lied. Nick clutched the pillow, wordlessly nodding as Charlie checked in with him, a tiny edge of anxiousness to his tone again now. There was a delicious relief when Charlie’s head slid fully in past the tight constriction. Nick closed his eyes, trembling with adrenaline, endorphins, and affection, feeling the muscles of his legs quivering.
Charlie had completely stilled, using one hand on Nick’s hip to hold himself steady, the other one rubbing soothing circles on Nick’s arsecheek. “You’re amazing,” he was saying over and over, his voice sounding like it was melting, the words spilling over both of them, sweet and liquid. “You’re amazing, Nick.”
Nick reached one hand back to clutch at Charlie’s hand, Charlie returning the pressure, squeezing his fingers. Now that he’d had a minute to adjust, the pressure and aching stretch was easing, tremors of delight and pleasure replacing the discomfort as they went thrilling through his body. “You can…” Nick closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “More, Charlie.”
Charlie let out a low groan. He gripped Nick’s hips, fingers dimpling the skin, pressing forward fractionally. Nick moaned and leaned his head back, Charlie stopping again. He slid his hands up and down Nick’s body as Nick breathed through it, the burn subsiding even more quickly now, replaced by an increasing feeling of incredible fullness. It was - it was like nothing Nick had ever imagined. They went slowly, Charlie checking in with Nick throughout. One of Nick’s hands was mindlessly clutching and releasing the duvet beneath him as Charlie pushed forward for the last time, now fully buried in him.
“It’s…I’m…” Charlie was nearly panting, and Nick was stunned wordless for a moment. Charlie was entirely in him. They were connected together, bodies slotted together in what felt like had been inevitable. Nick felt tears spring to his eyes as he took a shuddery breath. This was what he had been craving. He had wanted to be even closer to Charlie, desperate to get closer even when their naked bodies had been pressed together. This was what he had been searching for, the point when they were entwined, connected, grounded, integrated. He was filled by Charlie, in soul and body. It was a fullness that made his whole body ache with joy, with the stunning awareness that this might have been the best moment of his life ever so far.
Nick swallowed twice, tried to stem the tears and then gave up, a tiny choked sound escaping from his throat. In an instant, Charlie was leaning forward, one hand holding himself supported on Nick’s ribs, the other cupping Nick’s cheek. “Nick - baby - are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Nick sniffled and shook his head, feeling like his chest might explode. “Nothing’s wrong. This just…god, Char. This feels so perfect.”
Charlie let out a surprised chuckle, the sound soft. Nick gasped in heady pleasure, the vibrations of Charlie inside him making Nick quiver with feeling. “This feels…you feel incredible, Nick. This is fucking incredible,” Charlie said, kissing Nick’s shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m so good,” said Nick, blinking against the burn in his eyes. He was so good. He was the happiest he had ever been. “Charlie…” Nick didn’t finish.
Charlie didn’t seem to need him to, draping himself over Nick for a moment. “Nick,” he said softly, voice full of feeling.
“Will you move, Char?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his voice ragged. He dragged his fingers back until he was back on his knees behind Nick. He gripped Nick by both hips and pulled back, in agonisingly beautiful slowness. Nick became aware of his erection again, which had waxed and waned as they had worked their way up to this. Now that he was comfortable, open and relaxed, Nick could feel the blood pulsating, a heartbeat between his legs. He could feel his inner thighs quivering again as Charlie withdrew, the tip of his penis just inside Nick. And then Charlie finally drove back into him, changing Nick’s life yet again with a slow, fluid thrust forward.
A high, keening sound burst out of Nick, the feelings exploding all throughout his body. It was like sparks were flying off Charlie inside of him, adding another rich layer to the gorgeous fullness. He hitched his bent knee even higher, hands fisting the duvet beneath him. “God, Charlie, fuck - yes,” Nick stammered, nearly delirious.
“Still okay?” said Charlie, pushed into Nick and held his hips there, making Nick squirm. Moremoremorewantmore. He wanted that again. He wanted that forever.
“Keep…keep going,” moaned Nick. “More.”
Charlie made a low, long sound and adjusted his body, leaning forward on one knee and wrapping one of his arms around Nick’s chest. He drew his hips back again and then thrust them forward, a little faster this time. Nick’s head snapped back and he groaned, the whetstone inside him flinging off even more sparks this time, waves of pleasure pulsating through his low belly. Nick reached back one hand, blindly groping until his fingers gripped into Charlie’s curls. Charlie moaned and wrapped his other arm around Nick’s shoulder, holding underneath his arm. Nick was up on the pillow and Charlie was wrapped around him, the movement of his hips picking up speed as Nick begged and whimpered for more, Charlie always obliging.
Nick was floating, riding a sea of sensation, full-throated and rich. He was grounded by the feeling of Charlie’s arm wrapped around his stomach, nails digging into his skin with every thrust forward. Charlie was now driving him forward with the force of his hips, Nick closing his eyes and letting himself go nearly slack, lost in the waves. His body dragged forward and back as Charlie pushed into him, their words to each other mingling, the sensation against the pillows quite literally close to orgasmic. Nick didn’t know whose words were whose, whose body was whose. They were one entangled, complex being, entirely consumed by each other.
Charlie thrust forward and paused, pressing his hips against Nick and making Nick writhe in heady, spine-melting pleasure. “Turn on your side a little bit?” he asked, kissing Nick on the shoulder with such tenderness that Nick nearly teared up again.
“Yeah,” said Nick, his brain melty. He moved some of the pillows beneath him so he could turn partially on his side, both of them staying connected as they did. Charlie wrapped his chest around Nick’s back again, their skin tacky with sweat against each other. Nick moaned as Charlie wrapped his arm back around Nick’s, Charlie reaching under and around the front of Nick’s shoulder to give himself leverage. Then he was driving forward again, each pulse into Nick feeling like a new heartbeat, a part of Nick’s body that felt integral.
Without the pillow underneath him, Nick whimpered, absolutely aching and desperate for sensation. He wrapped a hand around himself and heard Charlie make an encouraging sound, which spurred Nick on. He moaned and worked himself as Charlie drove into him. It literally took no time at all before he was on the edge, the literal hours of foreplay taking their revenge.
“Charlie, I’m…I’m going to finish,” he panted, his breath catching in his throat.
“God, yes, Nick,” grunted Charlie. He wrapped himself around Nick now fully, his skin on Nick’s back and fingers digging into Nick’s body. Charlie’s cheek was pressed against Nick’s as he thrust in and up, pressing into Nick.
“I’m… fuck,’ whimpered Nick, mind nearly unspooled. To touch himself like this while so full, while Charlie was all around and in him - he wouldn’t last. He couldn’t.
“Yes, baby,” said Charlie, voice nearly unrecognisable now. “Want you to…want you to feel so good…”
Nick cried out as he tipped over the edge, not even trying to suppress the noise. The sound tore from his throat as he came. It had never been like this. Not with this feeling of completion and being filled. He could feel himself quivering, tightening around Charlie and releasing, and the sound that came out of Charlie as he did made him last longer than he ever had before. It was an orgasm that went through his body, muscles wrapping around bones and releasing.
Charlie groaned and his movements became less fluid, more erratic. He gripped Nick by the shoulder, voice almost a hiss. “I’m so close…do you want me to pull out?”
“No,” said Nick, tightening his hands around Charlie’s forearm to keep their bodies together. “Stay…stay in me…”
“Nick,” said Charlie, the sound of his voice cutting straight to Nick’s soul, his heart. Then he was clinging to Nick, hips stuttering as he pressed them forward, again and again as he finished. Nick leaned his head back, exhausted and exhilarated by the sounds Charlie was making, the movement of his body. Charlie gave one more thrust deep into Nick and their moans mingled together in the air, floating through the haze of sex, affection, and trust.
Nick let his head fall limply against the bed as Charlie pressed soft kisses to Nick’s shoulder, neck, arm - anything he could reach. Charlie’s hands were rubbing gently on Nick’s skin, a soothing and grounding feeling. Nick felt the tears spring up again, unbidden, as Charlie tended to him with such care and gentleness.
“Are you okay?” asked Charlie, lifting up his head and running a hand up Nick’s arm.
Nick reached over and caught that hand, that perfect hand, drawing it to his mouth and kissing it gently. “Yeah,” he said, chuckling through the second onrush of tears. “I’m just…I’m so amazed by you,” he said, closing his eyes and pulling Charlie’s hand against his cheek.
Charlie let out an incredulous-sounding laugh. “Have you met my boyfriend? He’s the amazing one.” Nick turned his neck to give Charlie a soft smile, which Charlie returned before wincing. “I…sensitive. I need to…”
“Oh, yeah…”
Charlie reached down and took himself in his hand, pulling out slowly like his only concern was for Nick. Nick’s heart swelled again, feeling another wash of tears threaten to burst out when Charlie kissed him softly on the shoulder before going to the bathroom, immediately returning with a soft cloth. Charlie ran it over Nick’s stomach and thighs, painted with his own release. Then Charlie cleaned up Nick, drawing the cloth gently between his arse cheeks, treating him almost reverently. Nick swallowed thickly as Charlie finished, kissing a line down Nick’s spine before returning to the bathroom for a few moments.
Charlie came back and Nick turned over, rolling so he was off of the wet spot beside him. He’d have to scoot over that night and sleep close to Charlie since his side of the bed was a mess. Oh, no. What a travesty. Charlie rolled on his side as well and they looked at each other, both of them with silly grins on their faces.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
They paused before bursting into giggles, clutching each other’s arms as they did. One Nick started, it felt impossible to stop - another release from the incredible buildup of energy and feeling that had crescendoed.
Charlie settled down first, giggles slowly subsiding. “How do you feel?”
Nick considered for a moment, now that the complete euphoria had waned a bit. “Incredible. I mean, like - maybe a little sore? But, like - almost in the way after a match. Where I’m totally spent but feel on top of the world.”
“Well, you did score,” said Charlie in a deadpan voice, and Nick grinned in delight.
“Was that a sex pun, Charlie Spring?!”
“No!” said Charlie, trying to roll away. Nick caught him before he could. “That was…”
“Charlie Spring - making a f-arse out of sex.”
“Oh, my god, Nick.”
“Aw, Char. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you’re the butt of my jokes.”
“I am never having sex with you again. Or ever.”
“Do you find these types of jokes boring? Even…b-anal?”
Charlie groaned and Nick laughed, pulling their foreheads together. He could see the smile on Charlie’s face, simple and glowing.
“How do you feel, Char?” Nick asked, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind one of Charlie’s ears.
Charlie looked at him and blinked. “I feel…” he broke off, exhaling incredulously through his nose. “I feel like I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend. That I can’t believe we did that.”
“Did you…did you like topping?”
Charlie gave a slow nod and then looked at Nick, a look of burgeoning awareness on his face. “I did,” he said, looking up at Nick. His eyes were so blue against the sheets. “I still - I really want you to top me, too. But that was…” He looked down, and back at Nick again, eyes glittering with some new confidence, some new trust. “I like that we did that.”
“I did, too,” said Nick, humming and pulling them together. Charlie’s head was tucked in the dip of his neck and shoulder, and Nick nosed into his curls. “And Char…”
“Yeah?”
“I want to do that to you, too.”
Charlie gave a soft moan of contented anticipation and Nick grinned to himself, pulling Charlie into his chest. He felt…complete. Like every piece of his life had finally connected, like he was whole and complete. He was here with his boyfriend - Charlie fucking Spring. Nick had a job with the Badgers next season. He had brilliant friends and an incredible mum who would be home later that week.
He didn’t know what the next years, months, or even the next week would hold, but for now, his life was the best it had ever been. Nick had never felt so completely content and happy in all of his thirty-one years as he drifted off to the best sleep he’d had in ages.
Notes:
I know they’re not home yet, but here’s a LF recipe! They’ll need their calories after all of that energy they just spent…talking about taxes. Here are some pumpkin scones that I love!
2 ¾ c flour
⅓ c sugar
1 Tbsp baking powder
¾ tsp salt
1 ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice
8 Tbsp chilled butter, cubed or grated
1 - 2 c raisins, cinnamon chips, or chocolate chips (optional)
⅔ c canned pumpkin
2 eggsLine a baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a large bowl, whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and spices together. Scatted the butter over the flour and work it in with a pastry blender to make it a crumbly mix. Stir in the raisins, cinnamon chips, or chocolate chips.
In a separate bowl, whisk the pumpkin and eggs until smooth. Fold this into the crumbly mix until it JUST holds together. Cut the dough in half and make two ¾ inch thick circles on the parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Slice each circle into 6 slices, and slightly separate them from one another (about ½ an inch).
Place the baking sheet in the freezer for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.
Bake the scones for 22 - 25 minutes, until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Slide the scones/parchment paper off of the baking sheet to cool and let them rest for 5 minutes before serving.
Chapter 28: Apart
Summary:
Last Time: Nick really got to the bottom of his desire to be as close to Charlie as possible. Ha. Bottom. Sex.
This Time: Nick and Charlie return to Lavender Fields. Sarah Nelson returns. The boys get some news.
Notes:
Every week, I hand waveofyou (The Write-Up) and NellieSayzBork (As You Are) a wailing infant of a chapter and then I come back in 18 years and they give me back a tremendously well-adjusted story that doesn’t even accuse me of being an absentee parent, which it totally should. Thank you both for all of your help with this final emotional arc of the story! It is 17.6 times better because of you two.
BeezusRed made another incredible installment of the cows in Talks and Together Moo-sings. Get your Spotify for this one, you’ll want it!
Oatsiexx and raanne combined their brilliant, unhinged powers to start a 5-part series over the month of October detailing the travails of some certain portraits with Part 1: The Awakening. It is already spooky and hilarious and so fantastic and I LOVE it.
This chapter is probably the hardest one, and ends with a sense of melancholy (for this chapter, not the fic). I promise that I would never give you anything less than a wonderfully happy ending and that there's a purpose to this arc.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick woke up early the next morning, patting around on the bed with his eyes closed until he opened them in confusion, not feeling the perfect form of Charlie. He turned his head to see an empty spot next to him, the delicious smells of bacon and coffee coming from the kitchen of the rental cottage.
“Char?” Nick called.
It was just a moment before Charlie came in, a cup of coffee in his hands. He put it on the bedside table next to Nick and kissed Nick on the forehead, Nick smiling and closing his eyes. “Hey, baby.”
Nick couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Charlie still called him baby today in the light of day. Nick…liked that. He liked that a lot. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Today,” Charlie said with a playful smile, getting on the bed on his knees, straddling Nick’s hips, “I am playing the role of one Nicholas Nelson.”
Nick grinned. “So you’re going to tell amazing jokes?”
Charlie sighed deeply and shook his head. “I think you might have the rarely-diagnosed ‘woefully wrong adjective insertion’ disorder, Nick. ‘Amazing’?”
“Incredible? Hilarious? Life-altering? Giant turn-on?”
Charlie touched Nick’s forehead like he was checking for a fever. “Nope, you’re still infected. No, I am playing the role of innkeeper and making you breakfast today. Think of this as your bed and breakfast, just for you.”
“Mm,” said Nick. “I’ve never straddled my guests in the morning. Clearly I’ve been a terrible innkeeper.” Charlie laughed and leaned forward to kiss Nick again. Nick smiled and stirred his hips, already aroused by the feeling of Charlie on top of him. “You did say ‘insertion disorder’. I do feel like I have that disorder, Char.”
Charlie giggled and rolled off of him. “You’re insatiable, rugby king Nelson.”
Nick growled playfully. “I am. What do you say to a round two before we eat?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“For you again?” asked Charlie, raising his eyebrows. “Aren’t you sore?”
Nick wiggled his hips, pretending to consider, making Charlie laugh. “Not too sore,” he said, grinning.
“Isn’t it my turn?” asked Charlie, giving Nick a saucy look.
“But I’m already semi-warmed up from last night,” Nick said, affecting a serious tone. He had not realised how much he was going to love the experience of bottoming, but god, he really had. He absolutely wanted to switch it up, too, but he wanted another taste of last night, too. “Efficiency, Charlie!”
Charlie laughed loudly. “Ugh, you business owners are always the same. Always trying to cut corners!”
Nick pulled him down, laughing. The bacon may have gotten a bit burned before Charlie remembered to turn off the stove, jumping up mid-foreplay, but in the afterglow, both of their chests heaving, they both agreed that it had been worth it.
-
The drive back to Lavender Fields was fun as normal, the two of them holding hands when not gesturing along to the show tunes mix that Nick had found on Spotify, belting along to a mix of Disney and Broadway songs. Charlie laughed hard at Nick’s sassy, hand-on-hip, “and Peggy” during The Schuyler Sisters song from Hamilton. Nick fell even deeper for Charlie when he sang, “You and Me but Mostly Me” from The Book of Mormon, giggling when Charlie pushed him aside during the chorus.
It was a little bit of an adjustment when they got back to Lavender Fields, guests arriving the same afternoon. Nick and Charlie said a quick thanks and a goodbye to the neighbours who had stayed on the property to take care of Nellie and Henry, going down to say their hellos to the girls. The whole day, things were exactly the same in so many ways, but also entirely different. Nick felt a new level of closeness - some safe, deep level of intimacy. Nick had always rolled his eyes a bit at the term “making love”, but that’s truly what it had been last night. This morning had been fun and tender, too, but last night…last night Nick felt like they had both been their truest, most vulnerable selves. They’d come together as two imperfect people, bodies and souls entirely connected, intimate in every way.
It showed up in tiny, glorious ways. It showed up in them greeting guests together, Charlie showing the two new room check-ins around while Nick took their bags. It showed up in tiny smiles and touches as they made dinner, in the way that Charlie held onto Nick’s pinkie finger for a fraction of a moment before getting the plates to eat together. Their closeness was all-permeating, a tangible comfort and familiarity that made Nick feel safer and more grounded than ever before.
It only got better when Sarah came back Thursday, the three of them falling into easy patterns with one another. When Nick and Charlie had returned to the inn, Nick had fully turned over the owner bedroom, replacing the mattress he bought with Sarah’s original one. He and Charlie had moved their things from Charlie’s original room to the downstairs one, the one reserved for Danny and James when they came. It might have the most terrifying portrait people, but it also had ample privacy, the only bedroom on that side of the house on the ground floor.
When Sarah returned, she hadn’t said a word when Nick and Charlie went into a room together, never questioning if or why Nick didn’t have a separate bedroom to himself. She was nothing but warm and welcoming of Charlie and Nick and Charlie together. Nick loved her so much.
It wasn’t too hard at all to share a house. The owner suite was on the far end of the house from where Nick and Charlie stayed, and they had plenty of space and time to themselves. They actually found themselves with more time than expected, Sarah making it very clear that she was the matriarch of Lavender Fields. She took over breakfasts, with now Nick and Charlie serving as sous chefs. Nick took what Charlie playfully dubbed his “demotion” in stride, enjoying watching Sarah bake, Charlie often staying close to help her in the mornings while Nick did the other chores. The first few days with Sarah there flew by, busy with catching up and with guests.
It wasn’t until Sunday that they all headed to town for the goods dropoffs, though the delay wasn’t a problem in winter, with the few markets that did still occur attracting much smaller crowds. The three of them got into the truck, Nick asking Charlie where he planned to go while he and his mum did their errands.
“I’m going to pop into a few places,” said Charlie.
Nick gave him a suspicious look. “You’re just trying to scout people for ‘Your team/My team’, aren’t you?”
Charlie gasped, looking scandalised. “How dare you, Nick Nelson? Accusing me of cheating? You should know that my team is superior to yours not because I sneak around, but because I make good choices.”
Nick laughed as Charlie gave a pretend flip of his hair. Nick squeezed his hand for a moment, Charlie’s skin soft and warm in his. Charlie looked down at their hands and then up again, an easy smile on his face. “See you in a bit?”
“Yeah, see you in a few,” said Charlie, pulsing Nick’s hand gently back before they separated.
Nick did what he needed, splitting the errands with his mum. He knew it would take longer than normal with Sarah catching up with old friends and letting them know she was back; even when Nick had mentioned it to people, they had exclaimed excitedly, eager to welcome his mum back to town. Knowing that, Nick took his time with the deliveries, wandering around the shops and picking up a few specialty ingredients to try out a few new recipes the next week.
Nick checked in with his mum once he had finished his rounds, meeting Sarah in one of the stationary shops. She greeted him with a warm pat on his arm, something she’d been doing numerous times since she had arrived the day before, almost like she was checking to see if Nick was really real and right in front of her.
“Did you chat with most of the people you wanted to say hi to?” Nick asked.
“Yes, mostly,” said Sarah happily. “I did have a wonderful time travelling, but it’s good to be home. Now I just have to hope you’ll let your mum take the kitchen back over and see if I still know how to make breakfast for everyone. I know I’ve barged in a bit lately,” she added with a grin.
Nick pretended to consider. “I don’t know, mum, I’ve made some changes. I’m not sure you can handle the epicurean experience I’ve fostered at Lavender Fields.”
“Oh?” said Sarah, raising her eyebrows playfully. “Do tell? I hear you’re now in the running for a Michelin star - that was the rumour at least when I was in Vancouver; it was in all of the papers.”
“Four to five Michelin stars, easily,” Nick scoffed, making Sarah smile. “I’ve tried to make it worldly, you know? This week we’re doing a Japanese-continental breakfast-fusion thing.”
“Yes? And what does that look like?”
“Sushi cereal,” said Nick wisely, nodding while he sorted through some of the cards for sale, Sarah laughing. He held up a card that had a picture of a boat on it, the name on the boat printed in lovely writing - That’s What Sea Said. “Should I get this for Charlie?”
Sarah gave a little laugh of delight. “You must, darling.”
Nick laughed too and paid for his card and the things in Sarah’s hands too, over her protests. He took out his phone, still having not heard from Charlie.
nnelson: Hey! Done with everything here. Where are you?
It was only a moment before Charlie responded.
C. Spring: hi!
C. Spring: i’m nearly done, too, just got to the music shop
C. Spring: i had no idea there was one here!
C. Spring: me rn 🥰😍🤩
Nick grinned down at his phone, imagining the smile on Charlie’s face. Nick loved Charlie’s smile. It lit him up from the inside out, the dimples appearing in his cheeks. It made his eyes sparkle like glittering pools, and made Nick feel so incredibly happy…
Music shop.
Charlie was going to the music shop. The music shop where Nick “found” the drums. Found them in exchange for money, that is. How was Nick supposed to know that his actions might have consequences?! He felt himself heat up and get itchy under his coat, already dropping the card and moving quickly towards his mum.
“Mum, we have to go now,” Nick said, his heart jumping into his throat.
“Why, darling?”
“Now!” said Nick again, now wide-eyed with panic. He hurried along, pulling his mum by the jacket sleeve as she asked where they were going and if everything was all right. Nick responded vaguely that it was fine, they just had to go.
The music shop was only a few blocks away, though Nick was entirely out of breath when he burst in, alarming several patrons who scattered like mice away from the door. Nick cast his eyes about wildly for a curly-headed god who was hopefully none the wiser. His blood pressure shot up by several thousand points when he saw Mike talking to a confused-looking Charlie, both of them seeming a bit puzzled as Nick nearly sprinted towards them, leaving Sarah at the front.
“...You said you’re staying at Lavender Fields, yes? The place over on Newbury road?”
“Yes…” said Charlie slowly, like they had already confirmed this.
“I could have sworn we came by a few months ago to deliver-”
“The drumsticks for the set I found and you helped me restore?!” Nick burst out, reaching Mike and Charlie.
Both Charlie and Mike whipped around in surprise, Charlie’s eyes widening at Nick’s appearance.
“Nick?” he asked, a perplexed and amused smile on his face as he reached up to move some of Nick’s hair out of his eyes. “All right?”
Nick could barely even appreciate that Charlie was touching his hair in public like this, not at this, the most fraught moment of his thirty one years. “IS THAT WHAT YOU MEANT, MIKE?” he continued, gripping Charlie’s arm as he wheezed, making desperate eyes at the shopkeeper and hoping that he had an unrealised skill for extrasensory communication.
Mike blinked, looking both even more confused and mildly alarmed. “Yes,” he said haltingly. “That is what I meant.” He shifted his eyes from Nick to Charlie and then back again, taking a step back like he regretted ever having started a conversation about whatever was happening. Charlie looked at Nick and then at Mike, his eyebrows drawing slightly together, lips parted like he was about to talk. Nick was trying to think of what to say to cover up the moment when Mike spoke again, this time not looking at him.
“Hi,” he said, voice now a little breathless.
“Hi,” came a similarly breathy voice behind them, Nick turning abruptly to see Sarah standing a few feet away, her gaze fixed on Mike.
Nick swung back to look at Mike now, whose face was transfixed. “Sarah,” he said, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across his face. “I thought - I had thought you weren’t at Lavender Fields any more.”
Nick opened his mouth to say that he had been at Lavender Fields when Sarah spoke again, neither she nor Mike seeming to notice him or Charlie. “My son’s been running it for me,” said Sarah, shaking her head as if in wonder. “I had no idea you’d moved back.”
“We had a change of plans-”
“It’s so lovely to see you-”
“It’s wonderful to see you-”
Nick stood in perplexed and terrified confusion as Sarah and Mike continued to stare at each other, blinking and looking between them. Charlie sidled up to his shoulder, barely trying (and acutely failing) to suppress the grin on his face.
“Seems like they know each other?” asked Charlie in a falsely casual tone as Sarah and Mike seemed to remember they were human and started talking, laughing and smiling as they did. “Reckon they might have ever-”
“I swear to god, Charlie, I will feed you to the portrait people.”
Charlie snorted and pressed his lips together like he was trying hard not to laugh. “Mike…Mark… Sarah seems to know a lot of men with M names that are four letters. Guess she has a type for her… friends.”
“May you never find the cool side of a pillow for the rest of your life, Charles Elvira.”
Charlie chuckled and took Nick’s hand, stepping closer and angling their bodies towards one another. Nick looked down at their joined hands and then back at Charlie, the happy feelings battling the very, very sad ones. “What’s happening?” Nick whined, looking at Charlie despairingly.
Charlie pressed his lips together in a sympathetic frown and nodded, eyebrows drawn together. “What’s happening is that your mum knows how to get it, Nick.”
Nick winced and clutched his arms into his chest like little dinosaur arms, pulling his curled fists towards his body in horror. He looked at his mum, still talking animatedly to Mike, and sighed deeply. “We never thought she was the one who was going to sexile us,” Nick said morosely.
Charlie burst out laughing which he tried to cover up with a very ineffective cough. The strangled noise caught Sarah and Mike off-guard, both of them blinking and looking around.
“Well,” said Sarah, the blush evident in her cheeks. “It’s lovely to see you, Mikey.”
“Mikey,” Charlie mouthed wordlessly, Nick giving him a small push with his shoulder.
“It’s truly wonderful to see you, Sarah,” said Mike. Mikey. Whatever. Gross. Both of them were stupid names. Nick would immediately remove that 5-star rating he had left when that traitor brought - found - the drum set for Nick. “I’ll, uh…”
“We’ll be seeing you!” called Nick, seizing the moment and steering Sarah and Charlie out of the shop, Sarah waving a startled goodbye.
They walked to the car, Charlie and Sarah chatting mildly about their days, though Sarah sounded a little distracted, eventually gazing out the window with a private smile on her face as they drove back to Lavender Fields, Nick periodically looking over and frowning. He could see Charlie looking at him as he drove, full 10/10 menace energy coming off of him in waves. Nick could practically hear him smirking. Well, the joke was on Charlie. Nick was not going to put out tonight. Much.
Nick fake-scowled but felt warm inside when Charlie glanced at his mum, still suitably distracted in the backseat, then reached over to take Nick’s hand. Nick pretended to refuse it at first, balling his hand up and making Charlie laugh and wrap his hand around Nick’s fist. Nick could only last a second, though, shaking his head resignedly and wrapping his fingers around Charlie’s.
Sarah drifted away to her bedroom when they got back to the inn, promising to help with dinner in a bit. Nick and Charlie unpacked the car and started getting food together, Charlie playing the role of sous chef for Nick. They really were an incredible team, moving smoothly with one another. They hadn’t done much in the kitchen since Sarah had returned, practically chasing them out of the kitchen when they tried to beat her to making breakfast. Nick felt warm as they cooked, talked, and laughed, Charlie making horrific jokes about his mother’s sex life that made Nick cover his ears with oven gloves and hum loudly.
Nick paid Charlie back at least a little when he rubbed a can of corn on the sleeve of Charlie’s long sleeve shirt, Charlie looking at him with a puzzled look.
Nick widened his eyes innocently and held up the recipe. “It said to Char the corn.” The regret and disappointment in Charlie’s groan was deliciously sweet, tasting of mild revenge.
Dinner was nearly ready and Nick was about to call his mum from her room when Charlie slid behind Nick, wrapping his arms around Nick’s middle. Nick smiled and crossed his arms to cover Charlies, the two of them locked in a sort of backwards embrace.
“Hey, you,” said Nick, closing his eyes and grinning at how perfect his life was at this exact moment. “What’s this for?”
“Just appreciating my boyfriend,” said Charlie. Nick could hear the smile in his voice. There was a pause and the two of them stood there hugging, bodies pressed together and warm. “Hey Nick?”
“Yeah, Char?”
“I saw the oddest thing in the music shop today.”
Nick felt his heart quicken a little. “Oh yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice level and calm.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, voice with an inscrutable quality. It felt…menace-y again.
“Was it a glockenspiel? I feel like those are odd, aren’t they? What a weird word, too. So German, am I right? Glockenspiel…where does that come from, do you think? ‘Glock’ must be from the German ‘keyboard thingie’ and ‘enspiel’-”
“Nick,” said Charlie again, the grin now clear in his voice. Nick fell silent, his heart hammering. “I saw a drum set nearly the same colour as the one in the barn.”
“That’s…weird,” said Nick, clearing his throat, his hands stilling on Charlie’s arms. “Mike must like that colour. Maybe he refinished our set with the same colour when I had him fix it up.”
“You never told me Mike fixed it up?” Charlie’s voice was maddeningly neutral. Nick couldn’t read a thing into it.
“I didn’t?” Nick asked, feigning innocence. “I must have forgotten. Yeah, he delivered the drumsticks and stuff and then fixed it up and-”
“Nick.”
Nick went quiet again and Charlie turned in his arms, fortunately doing Nick the kindness of laying his head on Nick’s chest so Nick didn’t need to look him in the face. Nick knew how pink his cheeks and ears must be at the moment, and he felt like his skin might actually be burning though his jumper - one of the few Charlie hadn’t yet “borrowed”. Not that Nick cared. It did strange caveman-like things to his heart to have Charlie wear his clothes.
“I love that drumset,” said Charlie simply, snuggling closer to Nick. “And regardless of how you got it, uh, fixed up…it was one of the first things that made me think that maybe you might not be as dismayingly straight as I thought you were.”
Nick let out a rueful laugh. “You and me both, Springtime.” He paused, not willing to admit the full story but wanting to connect about that having been a common point for them. “When I was - when Mike and I were fixing it up to get it ready for you-” Here, Nick thought of when he had messed up the drumset to make it look older. “When we did that, I was thinking of you the whole time. I was thinking of how happy it might make you, and how much I wanted to see you happy. Eventually, I realised that maybe it wasn’t so straight to think of your platonic bro mate pal’s smile. And eyes. And hands.”
Charlie looked up at Nick now, his face reflecting the same brilliant happiness that Nick had pictured when he bought the drums, albeit with a little smirk mixed in. “My hands?”
Nick grinned and picked up one of Charlie’s hands, kissing it. “Yes. God, your hands, Charlie…you have the most gorgeous hands.”
“Just in looks?” asked Charlie with a flirty look that made Nick’s stomach feel like jelly. “Or in what they can do?”
“Charles,” admonished Nick. “Are you flirting with me? In this kitchen, with guests and my mum in the house? And in this economy?!”
Charlie laughed and pressed onto his toes to give Nick a quick, chaste kiss. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll save it for later, when we’re in the room. Gotta give you something to remember me by for the two upcoming long, lonely nights in London.” He punctuated this by reaching around and squeezing Nick’s bum cheeks, making him laugh. “That’s funny about the drums - that they were such a big piece for both of us.” Then Charlie paused, seeming to consider. “It’s a nice memory for us, and for you and Mike, too. It’s nice that you and your future stepfather already have a bond.”
Nick closed his eyes and pretended to sob while Charlie laughed. They separated and called Sarah down to dinner, the three of them having a lovely time as always, chatting and exchanging stories. Nick and Charlie went to bed early, taking advantage of the somewhat removed location of the room to make good on Charlie’s promise to treat Nick to some hand-based pleasure.
In the afterglow of their orgasms and with his head laying on Charlie’s chest, Nick sighed happily. They’d have two days apart with Charlie in London, the first that they’d spend apart in nearly two weeks. The respite in Leeds had meant that they hadn’t been interrupted in their time together, and Nick grinned to himself as he counted. Twenty three nights. Twenty three nights of being with the person who made him feel happier than he had ever felt before. Nick’s eyes were closed as he waited for sleep to draw him in. He’d never felt so content, wrapped in perfection, his whole life feeling like a warm blanket.
-
It was the next day that the world fell apart.
Nick should have expected it, honestly. They had months of things falling neatly into place, tiny coincidences and happenstances that had led to four months together, one of those months the beautiful, sparkling one when they had been properly together. It made sense that when it all disappeared like a wisp smoke, it was a confluence of chance, too.
Nick got the call late Monday morning, around lunchtime the day Charlie had left to go back to London. He had looked down at his phone, surprised to see Coach Croft calling. Nick had answered with a tone of expectation, though he hadn’t been expecting a call today.
“Nick, it’s Croft,” said Coach, and Nick in his stupidity and naivete, had smiled at that.
“Yes, Coach,” Nick said with a laugh. “Nice win Saturday.”
“Yeah, the boys played well,” said Coach in a clipped tone, not sounding at all like himself. “Nick - I hate to call with this news, but Arthur had a heart attack last night. He’s all right,” Croft hurried to say, and Nick’s immediately racing heart settled, just barely. Arthur was the retiring assistant coach whose position Nick was taking next season.
“He’s…he’s really - what happened? He’s okay?”
“Truly, he’s all right,” said Croft in the way that he had, the one that could calm a jittery team at half-time during a match. “They discovered a partially blocked artery and put in a stent, and he’s already coming out of hospital tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” said Nick, meaning it. Arthur was a beast of a man, a towering presence that belied his kind personality. Nick had always liked him as a coach.
“It is,” agreed Coach. “They told his wife that he’ll be right and they’re not worried about any long term effects, though he’ll have to change up his eating a bit.” That made Nick grin at least a small bit; Arthur was famous for his bacon-and-cream heavy meals at all times of the day. “But they recommended heavily that he rest and recover for several months, which I completely agree with.”
“Yeah,” said Nick mindlessly, still not fully parsing what was happening. “That makes sense.”
“That means he’ll be out for the rest of the season,” said Croft. “We need an assistant coach, straight away. I know you mentioned at the Sale match that your mum is back or is coming back soon, is that right?”
“Yeah,” said Nick. His heart quickened, his racing mind starting to settle and firm up into understanding, cold steel at the centre of it. “She came back this last Thursday, actually.”
“I hope she’s well,” Coach said. “She’s always been an unofficial part of the Badgers.” Nick felt some absent fondness at that, but the coldness in his brain was trickling down to his belly, some blossoming, thorny realisation spreading over his body. “We’d like you to come back,” Croft said, voice serious. “This week, if you can. We need someone on as soon as possible, and I know all of the lads would appreciate it being you.“
Nick couldn’t respond right away. His tongue felt stuck to his mouth. “Do they know…?”
“The players? Not yet,” confirmed Coach. “Art asked for me to wait to tell them until after the weekend, so I respected that, though I wanted to tell them sooner.”
“Right,” said Nick stupidly, not even really hearing the words he was saying.
“So, with your mum back, would you be able to make it work and come back?” asked Coach, in his trademark, direct way.
Nick swallowed; it felt impossible. “I, uh-”
“Take a day, yeah? Chat with your mum, see what’s possible. If you can let me know by end of day tomorrow, I’d love to be able to give the lads a heads’ up and get the paperwork started on our end.”
“I - yeah, I will,” said Nick, his voice quiet and low. He barely recognised it. “I’ll let you know by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Nick,” said Croft. “Be well, yeah?”
“You too,” echoed Nick robotically. He hung up and stared at the black screen of his phone before shoving it back in his pocket, a maelstrom of emotions heaving in his chest. He had missed the Badgers so badly, for so long. For the first four months that he was at Lavender Fields, it was all he thought about. He’d thought about going back to Leeds, being back with his team. Back with the people who made him feel at home. Rugby was what he was meant to do. It was who he was. It was his life. It was him. Lavender Fields was incredible and a worthy investment of time, but largely because it helped his mum. This - the Badgers, leading a team - this was what he was meant to do, and Nick had looked forward to going back for months. It was an ache that he had felt in his whole body since he had left, and he couldn’t wait to return to what he knew filled a missing piece of him.
That was until he met Charlie Spring.
Now, Nick’s heart twisted, thinking of not seeing Charlie every day. He knew he needed to go back to Leeds. This was his…his home. Leeds was home. The Badgers and rugby were a part of who he was. The fact that Sarah was back nearly cemented it; there was someone here already who would be able to take care of Lavender Fields, not even a hitch in the process. Still, he hadn’t been able to say an immediate yes to Coach Croft on the phone. Three months ago, he would have returned in a heartbeat if he felt like Lavender Fields was covered and his mum had gotten enough of a break. Now there was…there was something else to consider. Someone else to consider.
Nick felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled his phone back out. His hands were shaking as he opened his thread with Charlie, scrolling absently through all of the messages between them, the ♥️s and laughing reactions and sweet, kind words that had flowed from one phone to another. Nick held his thumbs over the keyboard, trying to think of what to say.
I’m being asked to go back to Leeds for the Badgers; what do you think? Absolutely not. He was not going to put this on Charlie. That was so unfair to make Charlie feel like he had to decide what he thought before Nick even knew what he thought himself.
The Badgers need a coach ASAP and they’ve asked me to come back. No - a bald, blank statement like that would cause anyone to seize with anxiety. What would Charlie think he was supposed to respond to that? Some reassurance? Some platitude like, “Well, we knew this was coming at some point?”
Hey, can we talk later? Sure, Nick would send that. If he wanted there to be a second heart attack in three days. There was no way he was going to send that.
Nick was still staring at his phone when it rang, startling him so much that he yelped and batted the phone into the air, his nerves clearly frayed. He snatched his phone back up from where it had fallen and saw it was Charlie calling. At noon on a Monday. Nick’s already-aching heart squeezed with alarm in his chest as he answered the phone.
“Char?” Nick tried to disguise the anxiety in his voice, but he guessed that he was wildly unsuccessful, the strain of the Badgers ask and Charlie calling in the middle of a workday combining to render him a seething, nervy mess.
“Hey,” said Charlie, his voice choked, and Nick felt the panic in his chest rise into his throat now, the emotion wrapping a hand around his neck and squeezing.
“Charlie - are you okay? What’s-”
“It’s the fucking new president,” Charlie burst out, clearly sounding like he was fighting back tears. “We have this new president at the publishing company and we just had this meeting today. He said he’d disallowing any remote work for anyone - for fucking anyone. He gave all this bullshit about camaraderie and teamwork but it’s all just corporate fucking nonsense because they’re paying for our office rental and I think using this as an excuse to lay off people who won’t come back and…” he broke off and Nick’s heart broke along with the words. God, he wanted to wrap himself with Charlie. Nick didn’t know if he wanted to comfort Charlie or be comforted by Charlie more. All Nick knew was that he wanted his anchor, who was devastatingly far away.
“Oh, god, Char…”
“I know,” said Charlie, sniffling, and Nick closed his eyes against the burn of tears in his own eyes. “He said it’s a ‘trial’ for the next month, so who knows, maybe it’ll change after that, or maybe enough people will protest, but I don’t know…”
Nick tightened his hand around his phone. He felt staggered, like he’d received a heavy tackle that had crushed the air from his lungs. An hour ago, he’d been smiling, doing chores and thinking of Charlie. Assuming that the perfect, gentle bubble that they were in was a forever thing. Their forever thing. Nick realised how wild that was - they knew it was going to be over sometime. It should have been over once Charlie’s stay was done. It should have been over when Charlie’s flat was ready. It could have been over when the woodworms turned out to be fake, but Charlie had decided to stay. They knew that there had been an end date to this thing that they had, the perfect fragile weeks they’d had that felt like a held breath. Nick had just somehow conveniently forgotten that. Or maybe he had ignored it, not wanting to face real life.
Nick heaved a sigh. “I…fuck, Charlie. I got some news today, too. Like, just a minute ago.”
There was a pause from Charlie’s end of the line before Charlie laughed, a bitter humourless note. “From your tone it sounds like it was equally good?”
“Yeah - I mean…no? I don’t know.” Nick really didn’t. He’d never expected the happy return he was planning with the Badgers would be coated with this dark edge, this biting grief. “One of our coaches, the guy I’m replacing? He had a heart attack over the weekend…” Nick told Charlie the rest of it, which didn’t take long. Charlie expressed sympathy for Nick, Arthur, and the team, and listened while Nick spoke. “So…yeah. They want me back. If I can manage it.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, the word a quiet, forlorn sound through the phone. “I guess…I guess in a way this makes it easier for both of us, huh.” It was a question, but Charlie said it flatly, the words grinding against Nick’s heart.
“It… god,” said Nick, feeling the crushing weight of reality on him. Charlie was right. It made the decision easier in a way, or at least made it not a decision. Nick had been at Lavender Fields for his mum, to help her out and let her have a break. She was back now, and eager to get back to work. In fact, she’d essentially driven him out of the kitchen the past few mornings, eager to get back into the swing of things. He’d come for Sarah, but he’d been tempted to stay for Charlie. This…made it simpler. They both had to leave. Charlie had to go back to London, where his life was. Nick was going back to Leeds, where his life was. Everything was as it should be, and it was terrible. “I guess…yeah,” Nick said, finishing lamely.
Charlie gave half a laugh that might have been a sob. “Great start to a Monday, huh?”
Nick laughed hollowly. The happy warmth in his chest had burst, leaving only a heavy emptiness. “It almost makes me miss the woodworms.”
Charlie gave a sniffly laugh. “Want to help me put woodworms in the new president’s office?”
“No, we can do better than that,” said Nick. “When Amy’s old boyfriend Caden cheated on her, Seamus and Danny hid prawns in his flat when they moved her stuff out. I want this guy to suffer.”
“Me too,” said Charlie with a tiny hint of a sad smile in his voice, and Nick almost felt a sense of normalcy, even for a minute. They were still them. “Prawns are good. Maybe we should go with something dairy based for novelty’s sake.”
“Roquefort-crusted tilapia?” Nick said, and Charlie gave another sad half-laugh.
“You’re good at this,” said Charlie, then sighed. “God, Nick.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to…” Charlie’s voice broke and Nick fought the urge to howl, the impending sense of grief already trying to burst out of his chest.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” said Nick, his voice catching.
“Me too,” said Charlie, voice choked. “We’re not going to…” he trailed off, his tone rising up into an unasked question.
It took Nick a minute, not putting it together. “Going to what, Char?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the floor, gripping his phone like a lifeline.
“To…break up?” Charlie’s voice was small.
Nick’s stomach dropped, cold flooding his body. “No,” he said emphatically. “I don’t want…do you want to break up?”
“No, god, definitely not,” said Charlie in a rush and Nick sagged against the wall in relief. In all of the upheaval and worry of the morning, he hadn’t even considered that, and was terrified when Charlie even said those words.
“Oh,” said Nick, breathing heavily into the phone. “Good. Okay. God, no. Charlie, I don’t want to break up. My life…” he trailed off, grasping to try to find the right words. “My life is way better because I met you.” Charlie sniffled on the other end of the line and Nick went on, the words pouring out of him. That even momentary terror of the idea of breaking up had rattled him. “I mean - if you thought it would be too hard in different places, like, I get that, and I hate the idea of us being apart,” he rambled. “But you are the kindest, most thoughtful and caring and amazing person in the whole world. I…I don’t want us to break up, Charlie. I want us to be together. We’ll figure it out.” He didn’t mean for that last part to come out as a plea.
“I don’t either, Nick, truly,” said Charlie. “I don’t want to break up. You’re right, we’ll figure it out.”
“We won’t break up,” said Nick firmly. “And yeah. We’ll figure this out together, right?”
“I know,” said Charlie quietly, and Nick’s heart swelled. He imagined how different this conversation would have been even a few months ago, when Charlie was still steeped in the swirl of cruelty that B. Hope had left behind. This Charlie seemed to know more of what he deserved. This Charlie seemed to know how Nick felt about him. Which was…god, Nick felt so strongly about Charlie. “We’ll…we’ll do distance, yeah?”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick. “We have matches in London fairly often, there are three teams there.”
“That’s good,” said Charlie, his dulled enthusiasm mirroring Nick’s. It was something, but it wasn't enough. Anything short of everything with Charlie wasn’t enough.
“And maybe…maybe some of the matches closer to London, too, yeah?”
“Northampton isn’t too far,” said Charlie, voice sounding far away, like he was looking at his phone. Nick’s throat ached when he realised Charlie was looking up Premiership rugby stadiums to see which were the closest to London, within a quick drive. They spoke for a bit longer, grimly making plans and figuring out a few logistics, like Charlie coming to get his stuff. As for seeing each other after that, Danny’s birthday was in February in just a few weeks and would line up with one of their London matches, so they at least had that to hold onto tightly.
A small part of Nick’s mind also thought of the summer, and the two months off that he had each year for it. Nick’s battered heart leapt a little at that thought; that maybe they could have that brightness to look forward to in all of this gloom. Nick knew that he couldn’t ask about that now, though. He couldn’t ask about planning something like right now - not when they’d spent only 23 nights together. 5 weeks, 23 nights. Charlie had been engaged four months ago, and Nick was a tiny, opening sentence in Charlie’s biography so far. It was too presumptuous, too pushy, too soon. Nick didn’t want to be too much. There it was again, the words pressing on his brain from all sides.
Too much.
Too soon, pushing too hard, too clingy. Too needy, too emotional, too overwhelming. Nick had internalised long ago that he could be too many “too” things, accusations and exasperations from former partners, some friends. His brother, his dad. Marla. His uni girlfriend. He didn’t want to be too much for Charlie. He didn’t want to push too hard and end up pushing Charlie away. So Nick kept that thought about summer for himself tucked away in his mind, a hope flickering in his heart. They could have the whole summer. Maybe they could even come back to Lavender Fields.
Nick and Charlie spoke for a half an hour until Charlie sighed and said he had to get back to work, his lunch hour nearly over. Charlie would come down tomorrow night, Tuesday night, to get his things. He’d need to leave early on Wednesday to get back in time for work, but they’d have one more night together before Charlie went back to London and Nick went home to Leeds - as long as Sarah was amenable to taking Lavender Fields back over, at least. The future stretched before them like a terrifyingly black unknown, a timeline with only small colourful bursts where Nick would get to spend time with Charlie again. For the rest of the day and all that long night, Nick clung to the shred of comfort, that they’d have one more night together before their world together at Lavender Fields ended. One more night with Charlie. One more night with the incredible man who made his heart ache when he thought about him, the distance between Leeds and London feeling like a universe apart.
At least he had one more night with Charlie.
-
Sarah had been wonderful about it all, because of course she had. She had clearly been sad to see Nick go, but she didn’t say anything that would make Nick feel worse than he already did after he explained everything. He knew that she was probably terribly disappointed that they wouldn’t have several months together at Lavender Fields like they’d both thought, and also knew that she was likely putting in a Herculean effort to not express that in an attempt to reduce Nick’s guilt.
“Of course I’m ready to take over again, darling,” Sarah said, her eyes warm but looking worried as she gazed at Nick. “Honestly, you gave me such a gift with this break from the inn and I’m honestly itching a bit to get back to work.”
“Are you sure?” Nick pressed, worried that she was acquiescing rather than truly wanting to start working again. He knew now how intense the work was and how tiring it could be.
“I promise, Nicky, I wouldn’t lie to you,” she said, fondly brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes like he was a child again. “But…” she hesitated. “How do you feel about it?”
“About going back to the Badgers?”
“Yes, that. And - I know that you’ve gotten to spend a lot of time with Charlie.” Nick’s heart hurt at her saying Charlie’s name so casually and familiarly, like he had always been a part of their lives. “I can’t imagine that it will be easy to be in two different cities when you’ve been able to spend so much time together.”
“I - yeah,” said Nick miserably. He’d thought about it nonstop since the calls from Coach Croft and then from Charlie, hoping that the anticipation of being parted wasn’t as bad as the reality would actually be. He didn’t think those hopes would pan out. “I really…it’s going to be hard,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’ve really gotten used to always being together.”
“I know how that feels, darling,” said Sarah, putting her hand over Nick’s and looking at him with brimming eyes. “I know how that feels. When you and David each left after school, it felt like my world was falling apart.” She gently squeezed his hand. “But remember, darling, that change doesn’t mean that things are over. It just means that you connect in different ways. You two are so lovely with how you speak to each other already; I know you can continue to make each other feel important from afar, too. Though I know it will be hard. I know that, darling, and I am so sorry for that part of all of this.”
Nick swallowed and felt his mouth trembling. He closed his eyes, trying to collect himself, though he didn’t have a response for that. Instead, he just stood there until his mum got up and hugged him, holding Nick close. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the feelings surge inside of him, the tears finally spilling over. Nick could let himself go now, in the safety of his mum’s arms.
He let himself cry for a few minutes, hitching breaths that he tried to suppress and smooth out. As he calmed a bit, he rested his cheek on top of his mum’s head and gazed out the window towards the fallow lavender fields.
The colours were muted and dull and Nick thought about the idea of flowers in general. People would plant flowers, and then spend all year waiting for the flowers to bloom. When they finally did, it was life-altering. The petals would be brilliant, their hues and brightness changing the entire perspective for the world, even though it would be temporary. Then they’d wither again, retreating into the same grinding, grey reality. Flowers felt a bit pointless at the moment - the idea of a rich vibrancy that would slowly fade into a memory as time passed and winter came. Nick closed his eyes again and stayed in his mum’s arms for a long time.
-
It was bittersweet when Charlie got there the next evening. Nick had packed all day, planning to head out around the same time as Charlie. He thought it might be too painful to linger when Charlie’s memory haunted every corner of Lavender Fields; reminders that Nick didn’t think he could stomach. Nick heard the Golf coming up the drive and went to meet Charlie at the door of his car, the two of them opening their arms and holding each other close without saying a word. When they separated, teary-eyed, Nick realised with a hollow sinking feeling that Charlie hadn’t brought a bag to take in with him this time. He’d be leaving in less than ten hours. He was taking things away this time, not bringing anything to stay.
As they went into the house, Nick felt like every movement of his body was slow, every muscle dragging and protesting the passage of time that brought their separation closer. Sarah gave Charlie a tight hug and Nick teared up again watching the two of them embrace. They all ate dinner together one more time, Nick and Charlie’s chairs nearly bumping against each others’, drawn close together. They both ate awkwardly, Nick refusing to drop Charlie’s hand, each of them determinedly eating with their one free hand.
Sarah gave Charlie another long hug before Nick and Charlie went into their room - no, not their room. The room where they had been staying. They’d be getting up around 5 so Charlie had time to drop his things off at his flat before going into the office after the drive back to London. They put on music as they packed up Charlie’s things. Nick felt like every article of clothing he neatly folded and put in Charlie’s bags was like hammering a piece onto the ships that were going to carry Charlie and him away.
It was nearly eleven by the time they got into bed, neither of them in a sexual mood at all. Instead, they clung to one another as tightly as they ever had before, Nick trying to feel every inch of Charlie’s skin on his that he could. Nick was on his back, Charlie laying partially on his side and on top of Nick. One of Charlie’s legs was between Nick’s, their arms entwined tightly around each other’s bodies. They were both fully naked, bodies pressed as close as they could get them.
They lay there, quiet and not talking for a moment. The peaceful sounds of Lavender Fields at night were the only noise, the soft sighs of a house settling, comfortable on its bones. If the windows had been open, they’d have also heard the soft rush of the breeze through the trees, the murmurs and calls of insects and birds. All of the sounds Nick had gotten so accustomed to over the last seven months. Charlie and Nick had finished all their tasks, checked off every box, even loaded everything but a toothbrush and a change of clothes into Charlie’s car so that they could make tomorrow morning as easy as possible. Nick had already packed his, too, everything set for the following morning. In the stillness, Nick’s fingers gripped Charlie as tightly as he could, Charlie’s hands twining into Nick’s hair like he never wanted to let go.
“I can’t believe I’m leaving Lavender Fields,” said Charlie softly, and Nick felt physical pain in his heart. He couldn’t believe it, either. “I thought I was going to be here for a week.”
“I know,” said Nick, his voice gravelly. He swallowed. “I remember when you got here. I remember seeing you come in and just being, like…awed by you.”
“Awed?” asked Charlie, turning his head slightly towards Nick. “What do you mean?”
“It was…” Nick shook his head a little as he struggled to get the words together. “I mean, at that point, I assumed I was straight. You came in and I remember thinking how incredibly blue your eyes were. I was so, like, struck by them. And you. That first night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you went to your room. I was worried about you, or, like, worried about how you were doing with everything, but I kept thinking about you, too.”
Charlie gave a sniffling half-chuckle. “Well, I kept thinking that I was totally fucked. I was coming off of the worst thing I could have ever imagined in terms of my romantic life and then happened to come to the inn with the hottest innkeeper imaginable.”
Nick smiled in the darkness, though his smile was small. “There were so many moments, Charlie. There were so many moments that I would look at you and just be awed by you. Like…watching you play the drums. Watching you meet my group of friends and just totally fit in. Having you give me shit for my incredible jokes, which is one hundred percent an aspersion on your character and should not have made me as smitten as I was.”
Nick could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice now, too. “Smitten?”
“Smitten,” Nick confirmed with a grin. “But I thought it was, like, friendship. Admiration.” He gave a soft laugh. “Then I realised that most heterosexual lads probably don’t spend that much time staring at their mate’s hands, wanting to hold them.”
“You wanted to hold my hand?”
“For weeks,” Nick said, lacing his fingers in Charlie’s now. “When we finally did - it was like…I had realised already that I was not straight. I’m not even sure if I had fully settled on bi as a label for myself at that point - but when we did, I felt…” he trailed off. “I felt like I had never felt before in my entire life,” Nick said, hearing and feeling the emotion in his voice.
“Nick,” said Charlie, his voice quavering. He pulled himself closer somehow and moved his head so their cheeks were close together, faces within centimetres. Charlie took a few shaky breaths. “When we kissed…it was like everything I had ever wanted in life. You…I didn’t know that someone like you could exist. Someone so caring and thoughtful and kind and interesting. And fit as fuck.” Nick laughed quietly. “When we kissed, it was like…it was like every single want in my life - every single thing I had hoped for and wanted and dreamed about - it was right there. It was like a dream becoming real all at once.” He took a shuddery breath. “I kept waiting for you to realise that you could do better, or-” Charlie shook his head to stop Nick’s protest. “I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like, for me to have to go back or for you to realise that you wanted to explore your sexuality more without being locked down to someone. To me,” Charlie said quietly, and Nick squeezed Charlie closer to his body to refute Charlie’s words silently.
“This has been the best month of my life, ever,” continued Charlie. “Even before that, even before we kissed - it’s been the best stretch of my life, ever.” He touched Nick’s face gently, and Nick felt the tears that he felt like he had been stemming all day start to flow. “There’s a lot of reasons behind that,” Charlie said softly. “I feel better about myself. I’m taking care of myself and nurturing my relationships with my friends even better than I was when I was in London, when I was with Ben. There’s a lot of reasons,” he repeated. “But Nick…” Charlie let out a long, shuddering breath. “It’s because of you.” Now, Nick fought to keep himself together at all, breath coming out in jerky bursts as the sobs tried to burst out of him. “Even though it’s going to be distance now, I’m so, so grateful we got to have the time here that we did.”
Nick needed a few moments to compose himself, turning on his side and hooking his leg over Charlie’s hip to pull their bodies flush with one another. He let the tears flow freely, not fighting it any more, Charlie’s soft cries mixing with his. “I am, too,” Nick said finally, his brain not able to pull together the right words that would tell Charlie all he meant to him. “I’m so grateful, Charlie.”
There was a long stretch of silence before Charlie spoke again, and when he did, his voice was trembling. “I don’t want to say goodbye tomorrow.”
Nick’s throat closed back up, the emotions choking him. He squeezed his eyes shut, a few last tears trickling out. “Let’s not say goodbye, then,” he said, the words trembling. “Let’s just say goodnight instead.”
Charlie took a sharp inhale and let out a shaky, long exhale. “Goodnight, Nick,” he said, voice quavering.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” Nick said back, equally unsteady.
They held each other all night. Nick didn’t think he slept for a minute that night, his entire conscience focused on pulling Charlie closer, keeping their bodies touching. He didn’t want to miss a second of Charlie’s body on his, Charlie warm underneath his hands. God, Nick would miss this so much. He knew they were seeing each other in just under three weeks, but that felt unimaginably long, especially without an end point in sight where they’d return to this same cosiness.
Nick knew that he and Charlie had gotten to live in a bubble, one of absolute private magic for the two of them. They’d gotten to fall for each other in this lovely place, away from the cruelty and greyness of the world, surrounded by vibrancy and warmth. Maybe some small part of Nick had been aware that they were on borrowed time, but he’d never fully accepted that some day it would have ended. He certainly hadn’t expected the bubble of Lavender Fields to be pierced so suddenly and so cruelly, the shimmering opalescent disappearing in what seemed to be a moment. Now they stood on the edge of a new and unknown world, one that felt colder and indifferent. But, Nick thought desperately, as he vainly searched for sleep, at least they were standing there together.
-
The following morning felt like a dream, a cloudy reality of muddled, dulled memories. Nick and Charlie got out of bed, unrested and downcast. Nick’s eyes burned when he automatically made the coffee when they went downstairs, accepting his mug from Charlie with slightly trembling hands. They visited the cows together, standing close to each other and murmuring soft things to Henry and Nellie and each other. They leaned against Nellie’s flank together, pressed together and against her in a furry, warm mass until Charlie’s alarm sounded, letting him know he had to get on the road.
Sarah came out to say goodbye to both of them, long clinging hugs that left everyone emotional again. She stepped back to the porch as Charlie and Nick walked down the drive, dropping their joined hands to hold each other close before they got to their cars.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” whispered Nick, almost too exhausted by emotion to even tear up again.
“Me too,” said Charlie, sounding the same.
“I’ll see you in London in a few weekends,” said Nick. He couldn't wait, and it didn’t feel like enough. A lifetime with Charlie even didn’t feel like enough.
“Facetime tonight?” asked Charlie, voice cracking and rough.
“Yeah,” said Nick, pulling him close. They separated enough for a quick kiss. “Let me know when you get to London.”
“Do the same with Leeds,” Charlie said. He touched Nick’s cheek and Nick surged forward to hold him again. He felt Charlie’s hands press against his back, pulling them close, and then they released each other once more, one final kiss.
They both got into their cars. Charlie backed out first, and Nick let him pull out of the drive and get a bit down the road so he didn’t have to have the pain of following Charlie on the road until their cars diverged. Nick’s eyes burned as he backed out of Lavender Fields, his mum still looking at him worriedly from the porch, arms crossed tightly against the cold. He didn’t look at her again; he knew if he did he’d fully break down. He paused before shifting into drive, his eyes casting over the fields one last time. He’d been there seven months, three of them alone. Four with Charlie, the most incredible period of his life he’d ever had. And now he was leaving, driving away for who knew how long, away from the house, the farm, the life, and the man that had all become the centre of Nick’s life.
The lavender hadn’t even bloomed yet.
Notes:
Remember, I promise this story ends happily. But life has some bumps along the way, always.
A song for this week that inspired one of the lines: Say Goodnight Instead by JOHNNYSWIM.
Do we all need a little comfort food? I know I do.
Squash Macaroni and Cheese
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and chopped into 1-inch cubes
2 T olive oil
Salt and pepper
1 pound noodles - I love a spiral! You can use whole wheat or gluten free pasta if you prefer
5 c milk, divided
4 T butter
6 T flour
¼ tsp nutmeg
2 T chopped fresh rosemary
4 c shredded cheese - I like a combination of gouda and sharp cheddar, but it’s up to you!
¾ c breadcrumbsDrizzle the squash with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast in a 400 degree F oven for 20 - 30 minutes until tender, turning at least once.
While the squash roasts, cook the noodles. Drain and set aside.
Blend the butternut squash until smooth. Add a cup of the milk to smooth it out.
In a large skillet, heat the butter. When it’s melted, whisk in the flour, then the nutmeg. Cook for 2-3 minutes until the flour mix smells nutty. Add the remaining milk and turn the heat to a boil while continuing to whisk. After the sauce has thickened, turn the heat to low and whisk in the butternut squash mix. Stir in the rosemary.
Put the pasta in a large bowl and then add the sauce, mixing. Great a large casserole dish and then add half the noodles/sauce. Top with half the cheese. Add the rest of the noodles and top with the remaining cheese, then the breadcrumbs.
Bake for 25 - 30 minutes at 400 degrees F, or until the cheese is bubbling. Curse the name of science and know that there is both an additional chapter added to the count as well as at least 5 epilogues planned.
Chapter 29: There
Summary:
Last Time: Nick was asked to return to finish out the season coaching the Badgers. Charlie had to return to London. I am a monster.
This Time: Nick comes to terms for his feelings for Charlie.
Notes:
I mean, no, it’s no big deal at all that I spent last weekend in San Diego with waveofyou visiting Narlie Waves locations in person, not a big deal at all. (And desiring_assemblage, too!) Just, like, totally normal and chill. (IT WAS AMAZING, I ADORE YOU WAVEY).
Big thanks to Wavey and NellieSayzBork (As You Are) for beta-ing this chapter, especially after the trauma I put them through last chapter! NSB’s story is devastatingly getting close to its end, as is Wavey’s The Write-Up.
Three lovely gift fics that happened this week from some incredible people:
First, a Steven King-ian horror-fueled nightmare inspired by LF. I’m both terrified and honored, which is maybe the best possible use of the 🥹 emoji. Thank you Battlefield for this disgusting and amazing romp in Baked Potato Soup: A LF Horror Story. Keeping on the awesomely spooky vibe, Raanne and Oatsie have released an amazing chapter of the Portrait People from Lavender Fields in Part 2: The Summoning. There was some backstory to LF that I was a FOOL not to realize was happening! Hugs and adoration to Beezusred for Apart Moo-sings, the cows reflecting on the last chapter that made everyone happy and no one sad whatsoever.
Finally, bordercollie111 wrote a poignant and moving story called She. as a tribute to a recently-lost friend of theirs. It is truly remarkable and worth reading.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick wanted to go home so badly.
The problem was that he was home. It was Wednesday night and he was in his flat in Leeds, clothes and bags scattered around him. Nick had driven right to the stadium, meeting with Coach Croft and taking care of some paperwork that had been set into motion just the day before when Nick let Coach know he was coming back. Nick was officially one of the assistant coaches for the Badgers, alongside Coach Singh and several others. He’d be focusing on the forward positions, taking over Arthur’s role.
The day had been a blur since he’d arrived. Nick had arrived just a bit later than he had expected, needing to pull off of the M1 a few miles from the stadium to close his eyes and reset himself, the emotional toll of the car journey heavier than he’d anticipated. It was like Nick had been able to feel the pull of every mile, like he could feel the distance stretching between him and Charlie. Once he had arrived at the stadium, though, it had been a whirlwind. Nick had met with the coaches first, and then the players, all of whom were thrilled to have him back. Back at the stadium, surrounded by everyone, Nick had felt a sense of relief and rightness, of being where he was supposed to be. It was all so familiar and comforting, though he’d felt Amy, Danny, James, and Tex’s eyes on him more than once, after the long hugs they all gave him. It truly felt amazing to be back, the small flame of jealousy that burned in his chest knowing that the Badgers had gone on without him extinguished and cooled.
Nick had missed training but spent hours poring over the notes that Coach had given him. He’d followed the Badgers closely, of course, though he hadn’t been on top of the fine details of injuries, training regimens, and the new plays developed for the set of players this year. Nick met with all of the new players, getting to know them a little better and learning where they needed to be pushed and what development they required.
Nick stayed late with the other coaches at the stadium, all of them working to catch him up, Nick offering his thoughts on small tweaks that they might consider before the match on Saturday. He had kept busy, brain pleasantly buzzing with the challenge and reward of sorting out the familiar faces and pieces of a rugby strategy. Naturally he was exhausted by the time he had left the stadium, though he and Charlie had still managed a short FaceTime call in the carpark of the stadium before he left. Charlie was knackered too, and they only spoke for a few minutes before agreeing to speak the following night when they were both more alert.
Now Nick was home, and it was like the air was weighted as soon as he walked in through his door, having begged off of Danny, James, Amy, and Tex’s offers to stop by. Even unlocking his door gave him a sense of weird melancholy, the lock sounding entirely different than the one at Lavender Fields. He swung the door open to see his flat, looking almost exactly as he left it. Nick hadn’t taken much with him beyond clothes when he went to take care of the inn, so all of his furnishings, art, and belongings were in the same place, maybe some of them slightly moved from where Fitzy had stayed there for a few months.
Nick had dropped onto the couch and was looking around at all of the things that he had seen so many times before. It was the same television hanging on the wall, the same photographs and paintings and prints. Everything felt both familiar and dull, the mingling feelings of comfort and sinking disappointment a strange sensation. It was odd to have felt so alive at the stadium and then so gutted as he sat here, tears pricking at his eyes. This was where he had lived for nearly the last year; the place that he chose and loved after the breakup with Marla, and it just felt…cold. Not right. Nick was home, but he wanted to go home. He wasn't sure if he even knew where home was anymore.
Nick hauled himself up and went to his bedroom, not bothering to unpack. He brushed his teeth and got into bed, the sheets cold and feeling stiff, freshly laundered and unwarmed by any bodies for months. Nick cast a look around the room before shutting off the light - there were pictures of his mum, the team, Nellie and Henry. There was none of Charlie. Nick planned to immediately fix that the next day; he’d send some pictures to a local drugstore and get some prints. He didn’t like the idea of falling asleep without the ability to lay eyes on Charlie’s face. God, he was pathetic. Was Charlie as mopey as Nick was? Was it possible to be as mopey as Nick was? Nick didn’t think the entirety of the My Chemical Romance discography could reflect the depths of his mopiness.
Nick turned off the light and nestled into bed, shivering despite the heating system in the room. He pulled the pillow to his chest, aching at the thought that last night, it was Charlie in his arms instead. Nick waited many hours for sleep to find him.
-
Thursday and Friday were jam-packed again, so much so that it was easier to mostly ignore the tiny twists of pain that happened throughout the day. Nick got to the stadium early to go through notes with the other coaches, trainers, and team staff, then attended training, then met with players and coaches again. They were travelling to Northampton on Saturday for an evening match against the Saints, and it was a big match. The Badgers were on the cusp of making the Champion’s Cup table and this would be a big deciding fixture. That had kept Nick incredibly busy, and he found himself in that pleasant state of flow, looking up to realise that hours had passed, Nick fully immersed in what he was doing. He didn’t even have time to catch up with the group of his close friends, though all of them had stopped by the coach’s office.
Still, even all of that couldn’t keep Nick from feeling the ghost of Charlie everywhere. On Thursday, Amy brought him tea when she came in. Nick’s chest had tightened when he thanked her, remembering all of those cold mornings when he’d come back into the house from being in the barn, Charlie handing him a cup made perfectly to his preferences. On Friday afternoon, Nick’s eyes were drawn to the clock unexpectedly, a jolt passing through him when he realised that it was the time of day that he and Charlie would normally head into town to do the Lavender Fields errands. In those moments, Nick was so staggered by how much he missed Charlie that it physically hurt.
It was odd to experience such a duality - moments where Nick was enjoying what he was doing, feeling attentive, creative, and inspired, then to be hit with the sledgehammer of wanting, aching desire to be with Charlie. Hold his hand. Have Charlie give him one of those kisses on the forehead that he gave Nick when they were in bed together, the ones that made Nick feel like he was both eight inches and eighteen feet tall at the same time. Nick tried to say as much when they spoke on Thursday, both of them a little more recharged from the night before.
“How’s it going so far?” Charlie had asked after a bit, his blue eyes just as piercing and beautiful through Facetime.
“It’s…strange,” Nick said. “It’s odd in a lot of ways to be in the same place that I was before, but to be doing something different. It’s like I’m going up a familiar staircase, but, like, the carpet has changed to wood or something.”
“That’s got to be weird,” Charlie agreed. “Must be nice to not be the one running sprints, though, yeah?”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah, there is a perverse pleasure in making other people do that. Especially Danny,” he laughed, telling Charlie about the myriad of ways that Danny had playfully flipped him off at training that day, including in the changing room when Danny had made a big show of finding something in his locker, only to pull out his middle finger at Nick, grinning like he had finally discovered the thing he was looking for. “That part’s nice,” Nick said. “It’s truly amazing to be back. I missed it here.” He paused. “I can’t wait to see you, though.”
“Me too,” said Charlie, looking like he really meant it. “I’m really excited to see you, too. Doesn’t it somehow feel like it’s been forever?”
Nick gave a laugh to try to disguise how painful and true that was. “It does. It’s like some weird, Charlie-less time warp.” Charlie laughed lightly and Nick smiled. “Everybody is so excited to see you in London in a few weeks,” he said. “Danny is so excited that you’re coming for the sole reason of celebrating his birthday with no other reason to attend the match or hang out afterward.”
Charlie giggled again and the sound filled Nick with warmth that he hadn’t felt in the last 48 hours. “Only fifteen days,” Charlie said with a small smile to match Nick’s.
“You counting, Springtime?” said Nick, his smile a little more genuine now.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, looking a little perkier himself too, the menace-ry coming back. “Fifteen more days of peace without a single pun to torture me.”
Nick gasped, feigning offence. “Well, you know what they call a man who goes over a fortnight without hearing a pun.”
“Please don’t.”
“Too weak.” Nick grinned proudly.
“I think I’m going through a tunnel,” said Charlie flatly, dropping his phone face-down on the floor so all Nick could see was darkness, the phone now against Charlie’s duvet. Nick laughed loudly, then was hit by a wave. Nick wanted to be there on Charlie’s duvet, too. Just like that, the happy surge of normalcy in Nick’s chest snapped, and he felt like the weight of being apart from Charlie was smothering him again. Nick took a breath to settle himself and slap a smile back on when Charlie picked the phone back up, looking at him.
“So - any plans tomorrow?” Nick asked.
“Dinner with Elle and Tao,” said Charlie. “Then I think movie night over at their place. Darcy and Tara are coming, too.”
“Tell them I miss them,” said Nick softly. “I wish…I wish I could be there. With them.” He swallowed. “With you.”
“I wish that, too,” said Charlie, his eyes looking impossibly bluer.
Nick glanced at the clock, it was getting late for both of them. “If we don’t chat before then, Facetime Sunday after the match?”
“Definitely,” said Charlie. He looked at Nick with a long, soft look. “Goodnight, Nick.”
“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Nick quietly. He watched the screen as Charlie’s image disappeared, replaced only by black. He could still see the cerulean of his eyes, etched onto his memory like a ghost.
-
Saturday morning, Nick boarded the team bus as they headed to Northampton. It was a relatively short ride, under two hours, and the team headed to the hotel before re-boarding the bus to go to the stadium. Every minute was packed, with training, a walk-through, tape, a team meal, and meetings. Nick was feeling prickly with nervous excitement in the changing room, amazed that he was there again. He was back - he was back as part of the team. It was the same in so many ways but different, down to the clothes he was wearing. Instead of wearing his rugby kit, Nick was clad in a team jacket and dark pants, ready to contribute differently. Nick had wondered back when he was originally offered the coaching job if it would feel melancholy to take a different role and not play. Of course, he’d see how he felt after the match, but so far, it had been completely invigorating, just in a different way. Nick had tried to put into words a few times what it felt like when he was playing and part of the Badgers in conversations with Charlie. All he could come up with was how alive he felt. Incidentally, Nick thought on reflection, it was how he felt when he was with Charlie.
Maybe that’s why he felt so electrified and present and alive now that he was back, while feeling like he was dragging some dark undercurrent along, a weight that he only temporarily forgot about. Nick would be doing something - talking with players, gesturing wildly from the side of the pitch, cheering and hugging Amy on a massive play - and then as soon as the moment passed and quiet settled in, he felt like there was a heavy tug at his heart. A reminder that all of this - this aliveness and joy and energy - all of it was happening with Charlie miles away, for who knows how long.
The Badgers won their match against the Saints, and Nick joined in on the celebration, letting out a loud, “oof!” as a certain massive Aussie madman jumped on his back.
“We won, Coach Nellie!” Danny knew that annoyed Nick to no end, so he used the name constantly. “I credit it all to your saggy freckly bollocks on the sideline!”
“Yeah!” crowed Amy. “We owe it all to Nick’s sack!”
“Nick’s sack!” exclaimed Danny, starting to chant. “Nick’s sack! Nick’s sack! Nick’s sack!” Quite a few of the other lads joined in before Nick was able to wrench himself away, laughing as he ducked into the tunnel to let the players celebrate with each other. He opened his phone and saw a message from Charlie, his heart lifting in joy.
C. Spring: omg! you won! you were amazing!
C. Spring: okay to be fair i am not sure what your personal contribution margin was to the victory but i bet it was A LOT
C. Spring: so impressed! have fun with the team tonight
Nick grinned down at his phone and sent back a string of heart emojis, as well as a rugby ball, a bicep, and a kissing-face emoji. He and Charlie briefly messaged, planning on FaceTiming the next day, when both of them had the whole day free. Nick didn’t know how long he’d be out with the team, and assumed movie night would go late, too. They each exchanged a red heart emoji and Nick closed his phone, his heart glowing like it did any time he talked with Charlie. He felt a familiar heavy grip on his heart though, the undercurrent of sadness and knowledge that Charlie wouldn’t be there, grinning outside the changing room. He wouldn’t be at home, waiting for Nick to give him a hug and say he was proud. Charlie wouldn’t be out at the bar, ready to wrap Nick in his arms and, that night, touch Nick the way he thirsted for it.
Nick wanted all of that.
He was able to snap back to the happy reality, the time with the team and the glow of the win warm in his chest. Nick felt Stig grab him by the arm as he passed, pulling Nick into the celebratory stream back into the changing room. He was here now. He would do his best to be here now with nearly everyone he cared about in one room.
-
The first real pangs of hurt came that night when Nick was out with the team, celebrating the win. They’d headed to a bar in Northampton that they tended to go to when they went out, a pub that was definitely heavier on the drinking than it was the dancing. That was fine with Nick. He needed a few heavy, tall drinks tonight after the week he’d had. He definitely didn’t want to dance, either. Nick felt his eyes glaze over as he sat at the bar, thinking of Lavender Fields and that first night he’d seen Charlie dance, the night that Danny had turned on a Robyn song and gotten the whole group moving. That had been before Nick realised what his feelings for Charlie really were. He remembered how Charlie looked, body rolling and sensual, his movements liquid smoke. God, Charlie had looked so beautiful that night. He always looked so beautiful. He was beauty itself, both gentle and fierce at the same time. Nick thought of all of the perfect dichotomies that Charlie was - strong and tender, kind and sassy, reserved and outrageous…
His attention was pulled away by the knocking of pool cues, turning his head to see Danny and James each pulling down a cue from a rack on the wall. Both of them had tried to get Nick to join them, but Nick had slunk to the bar instead, vaguely promising to catch up with them soon.They were facing each other now, James saying something to Danny that made Danny laugh aloud. James stepped closer, laughing and shaking his head, and Danny grinned at him as James gently touched Danny’s chest. Danny caught his hand and pulled James in for a kiss before they went to play billiards, still joking and chatting with each other. Nick’s eyes lingered on them, not able to look away. It hurt, it actually hurt to see what they had. What he wanted. What he and Charlie had, even just for a minute.
“Disgusting, aren’t they?”
Nick looked up in startled surprise, having not been paying attention to anything around him. He refocused his eyes at Amy, who was looking at him with a combination of good humour and empathy. Nick chuckled out a weak laugh and nodded. “They are.”
“How’re you doing, babes?”
“I’m fine,” said Nick.
Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh, okay, we’re playing the repressed emotion game, are we? Let’s skip this part where we pretend you’re me in the first twenty minutes of a therapy session.” She made her hands each into little puppets, putting on a British accent, the accuracy of which still surprised Nick.
She made one of the hands talk, the one with the British accent. “And how are you today, Amy?” Amy changed her voice, making it deeply and stereotypically Canadian. “Oh, you know, just experiencing the effects of a society that makes us uncomfortable expressing deep or challenging emotions.” She went back to the other hand. “And how does that make you feel?” She switched hands once more, going back to the Canadian character, her voice flat. “Fine.”
Nick let out a loud, self-deprecating laugh. “Touché.”
Amy dropped her hands and grinned at him. “Wanna try that whole thing again now?”
Nick let out a long sigh, gripping his whiskey glass with both hands. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy that it’s made it a little easier, at least. This week especially was wild, with getting here and jumping right in.”
“You’ve done amazingly,” said Amy earnestly, and Nick smiled.
“Thanks, Ames,” he said genuinely. Then he sighed, glancing around at the team, celebrating with each other and their friends and family who had travelled to the match with them. “Tonight is harder,” Nick said. “I…I wish he was here.” Nick paused and took a too-large drink, his eyes burning with the alcohol and the emotions. “I miss him so much.” Nick’s voice cracked slightly on the last sentence, and he was glad that Amy didn’t mention it.
“I can only imagine,” she said, shaking her head slightly, her eyebrows drawn together. “Have you been talking?”
“Yeah, we talk constantly,” said Nick, tapping on his phone as if to prove the point. “We message a lot, and we’ve been FaceTiming and stuff. I’ll call him tomorrow when we get back to Leeds.” Nick had been looking forward to seeing Charlie over Facetime this weekend, but suddenly, it felt too small. Not enough. Nick missed the enormity of being with Charlie, the feeling of big-ness and right-ness that Nick felt when they were together. “How do you…How do you and Seamus do it?”
“Doggy style, occasionally missionary, then some crazy flexible things your mind would never be able to conceive,” said Amy, and Nick closed his eyes, unable to get the horrified amusement off his face.
“Now you’re making me even sadder,” he said, shaking his head.
Amy laughed. “No, I got you, I know what you mean,” she said. “Well - it’s a lot of communication, which I know you and Charlie are already good at. Also, a lot of phone sex, which you should one hundred percent do.” She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “I heard that there’s probably at least one innkeeper at Lavender Fields who could probably give you tips?”
Nick dropped his head to the bar now, hoping whatever bacteria lived there would eat the parts of his brains with any memories of his mother and Mike. And Mark. Ugh. “Jesus, did Charlie tell you about the guy from the music shop?”
“Jesus has nothing to do with what Sarah’s been getting up to,” said Amy with a wink, and Nick slowly reached over to pull her drink away, taking a long, slow sip of it as a replacement for his empty one while maintaining (very sad) eye contact.
Amy laughed again, then smiled at him as her face shifted to a softer look. “I know, though. It’s fucking awful,” she said. “I think it’s way harder for you two than it is for us, too.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, he and I started as long-distance,” Amy said. “We started hooking up when Seamus was in Sale and I was in Leeds, so we didn’t go from literally living together like the two of you did. And there’s an end date for us, too. Shea’s planning to retire unless he gets traded back to the Badgers; you’ve talked about that, right?” Nick nodded, they had spoken about that. “I think where you are is harder,” she said again. “You don’t have an end date right now. So I can imagine it’s way more difficult to sit where you are not knowing when it would go back to being full time again.”
Nick nodded for a long time. That was the crux of it. It sucked to not know. “I…yeah,” was all he said, not able to get much else out.
“I know you’ve been busy,” said Amy, more gently than her normal style. “But know that we miss you. Danny, James, Tex, Regan, Lunker - everyone. All of us have wanted to see how you’re doing. And, like - we know it’s only been three days that you’ve been back, so we get it. Just know that we’re all here for you and all of us want to support you and Charlie, okay? Or if you ever even just want to talk about how much it sucks to do distance. We’re all here.”
Nick sighed. He’d been feeling prickles of guilt for not being more available. He had been massively busy, but he’d also been - not ready to talk about any of it. It was all so fresh. “I know,” he said, putting a hand on Amy’s. “Thank you.”
She gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder, then looked down at her phone, which was vibrating, a terrible picture of Seamus during a night out popping up. “Speak of the devil,” Amy said, grinning at Nick. “I’m going to step out for a few and take this, okay?”
Nick gave her a small smile and nodded. She pushed away from the bar and went outside, already chatting with Seamus. Nick looked around. The match was relatively close to Leeds, so a lot of family members and loved ones had come. Lunker and his wife Emma were hip to hip, Emma’s thumb hooked in the waistband of Lunker’s trousers. They were talking to Tex, who was wrapped around Regan, the two of them just arrived to the bar. Nick continued to cast his gaze around the room, seeing people in couples, players with their friends, lads with their parents who had come. They’d won the match and moods were high, everyone happy. In the giddy glow of the room, it was smiles and cologne and warm yellow light from the lights on the walls of the bar.
Nick stared at it all without seeing. Everyone looked so happy. They had their families there, their loved ones. Nick had that, too. He had so many of the people he cared about here. So many of the people he loved. He felt a tightening in his chest crawling back in, that familiar tense feeling that had lived there for so long. He felt like the room was zooming away, everybody far from him. He was sitting there, alone. He was alone.
It was all too much. Nick had to get out of there. He stood suddenly, taking out a fiver and dropping it on the bar, and then bolting out the door before anyone could see him. He felt a swoop of guilt in his stomach when he spotted Amy’s red hair shining from a streetlamp, turning to walk the other direction where she wouldn’t see him. Nick felt badly for avoiding her, but he didn’t feel like talking through anything else. He didn’t really feel like talking at all.
Nick felt entirely wound up as he walked back to the hotel, the frigid night air feeling good on his face, cooling his body. He felt both sluggish and electric, his body weighed down as he made his way back. Nick had no idea where the abrupt shift had come from tonight. He’d not felt quite right or quite in his skin since the match, but the conversation with Amy had been fine. It had almost felt normal, even. They had joked and talked, but then Nick had just felt…staggered. Like he had been hit by a load of bricks. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the week hitting him.
Back at the hotel room, Nick flopped on the bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes, his feet hanging off the edge. Nick sighed as he rolled to his stomach, pressing himself up on his arms to open this thread with Charlie. Nick messaged Charlie to wish him goodnight, then scrolled back up through their messages, smiling softly at some of their exchanges. His heart hurt when he looked at the messages from when they were in Clevedon. They were just tiny exchanges, sending each other restaurants or checking in when they split off to go into a few shops. He scrolled back through pictures from their messages, both shots of the two of them together and pictures they’d sent back and forth. Every time Nick saw one of Charlie, he was lost in memories, each one pulled effortlessly from his brain as he remembered where Charlie was standing or what he was doing when Nick took the picture. Nick thought of how magical it was when they had been there, every moment feeling golden. Now, the future, this Charlie-less future, seemed to stretch interminably ahead of him.
What had Amy said? She had said that it was harder that Nick and Charlie didn’t have an end date for this long-distance dance that they were doing. It didn’t help that they’d gone from literally living together to living apart, all in the space of less than 24 hours. Nick exhaled heavily as he set his phone aside and then rolled to his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. That’s…what’s what this was. That’s what had him reeling right now. Last week had been a blur, a whirlwind of driving and moving, then being thrown back into the team in an entirely new role. It had kept Nick from really thinking about how much he missed Charlie. It had kept him from ruminating on how coldly unfair all of this felt, that he’d found a person who made him feel like the way Charlie made him feel, only for them to be wrenched away from each other so suddenly.
Nick loved his new job, honestly. He loved being back with the team. But god, did he miss Charlie.
Now, in this hotel room, Nick finally felt it. He felt how acutely the sensation cut into him. It genuinely felt like a part of Nick was missing far away in a London flat. A London flat with stupid, woodworm-less beams stretching across its ceiling. Nick tried to picture Charlie in a flat that he’d only seen a few pictures of online, laying on a bed that Nick had never even seen. Nick didn’t know how many nights Charlie would lay on that bed, alone and far away. Any number was too many.
-
Sunday was the worst of it. Nick woke up from a grey, anxious doze where everything had felt just out of reach - comfort, dreams, genuine rest. He knew that he was exhausted from this week and should have gotten some sleep, but it had eluded him. The small whispers that he caught were light and restless, and Nick felt achy when he got out of bed and packed his bag.
Nick walked numbly onto the bus, dropping into one of the seats behind Croft and Coach Singh, pulling the hood of his team jacket over his head and leaning his head against the window to try to get at least some sleep. He felt and heard his friends stop by, but Nick pretended to be out. The bus ride felt far longer than the ninety minutes that it was, and he deboarded with the coaches, lingering in the office until Danny, James, Tex, and Amy departed, feeling like a terrible friend the whole time. He just…he couldn’t today.
Nick drove back home, no music on. In theory it was silent in the car, but Nick’s brain buzzed with a hundred thoughts at once, all of them spinning loudly through his mind, speaking over one another, snapping at each other’s tails. All he could think about was the feeling of weighted emptiness, the sensation he had carried since last night, thinking about the fact that this separation was real. It was done. They were long-distance now.
Nick didn’t want that.
Nick didn’t want distance. He wanted to be with Charlie. He wanted to wake up with Charlie, wrapped in one another. He wanted them to make coffee and tea together in the morning. He wanted to linger in the kitchen, burying his nose in Charlie’s curls for an extra half-second before they left the kitchen. He wanted to stand in the doorway and watch as Charlie laid the table, taking as much care with each piece of flatware like it was something precious. Nick wanted all of that.
Those weren’t words you said out loud, though. Not when two people had been together for as short of a time as Nick and Charlie had. Nick hadn’t met Charlie’s parents. Nick had never been to Charlie’s flat. Charlie had a life in London, a job and a flat and friends. What did it look like to be together? It looked like Charlie moving to Leeds, or Nick to London. The former felt profoundly too big to ask, the latter felt impossible. Nick felt stuck, torn between the desperate desire to tell Charlie how much he wanted them to be together and a searing, hot pit of fear of what that might make Charlie feel.
Nick’s thoughts tumbled and vibrated even after he got home, making his head hurt. His chest felt tight, like slow-creeping vine tendrils were growing from his skin and attaching there, curling and pulling, tugging at everything. He lay on his couch, not picking up the calls that came in from Amy, Danny. Danny again. Tex. Danny. James. Danny. Danny. Danny. Nick had to halfheartedly grin when the fifteenth one came through. The combination of determination and an utter lack of shame made Danny difficult to keep at bay for too long. Nick knew he needed to call all of them back. He genuinely wanted to call all of them back, or come hang out as all of their messages to him urged. Just…not today. Today Nick wanted to sit in the ache, to try to accept the new reality that he and Charlie were living.
The FaceTime from Charlie was the only thing that broke through the fog, Nick nearly dropping his phone in his eagerness to answer. He took a moment to reset his face before he picked up. Nick didn’t want Charlie to think that Nick was fine without him, but then again, Nick didn’t want Charlie talking to the human equivalent of six ☹️emojis.
The smile came naturally on his face as soon as Nick saw Charlie’s gorgeous features on his screen. “Hey, Char.”
“Hi baby,” said Charlie, and Nick’s battered heart nearly failed. Nothing made him feel more wobbly than when Charlie called him that. “Congratulations on the match again last night!”
“Thanks,” said Nick, sitting up on the couch and setting his phone on the arm of the couch, leaning it against a heavy travel mug so he didn’t need to hold it the whole time. “The team played brilliantly.”
“I think the coaching is a big part of that,” said Charlie, nodding solemnly.
Nick suppressed a grin. “Oh, yeah? Tell me more about that. How - specifically - do you think the coaching impacted the team’s performance? Again, just a few specific details. You know, to stroke my ego.”
Charlie laughed. “Oh, I will stroke your, um, ego in London,” he said with a wink, and Nick was glad the couch was holding him up so he didn’t melt into the floor. “Yeah, I think it was clear how the coaching helped when James - when he did the thing with the ball, you know? Without coaching, it would have been, like - just a toss, but with your leadership, it was, like, a pass.”
Nick laughed loudly. “You are so right. I should have caught that myself as one of the coaches. You should be a commentator.”
“I just don’t want to embarrass the old white men who have been doing it for ages,” said Charlie loftily. “You know how boomers react when they’re shown up by us youths.”
“Speak for yourself,” snorted Nick. “I am practically a pensioner.”
“I still think you’re pretty cute, even as a certified elderly person.”
“Nah, I’m not certified. I’m not paying extra for a certificate.”
Charlie snorted. The two of them went back and forth for a bit, alternating between teasing, flirting, and talking. It was reminiscent of how Nick had felt all week - senses of growing normalcy, but with a bitter edge to it; an edge that recalled what it was like before, when they had gotten to be together all the time. Still, every moment talking to Charlie was a moment that Nick valued, and they spoke for nearly an hour, drinking in the mundane and meaningful details of each other’s lives. All of them mattered.
“How did it feel to be back with the team for the match?” asked Charlie softly after a stretch. “You know, as a coach and not a player this time?”
Nick considered. “It…huh. Good question. I guess I missed playing a bit, but having the time last week with the coaches had already made it feel so different. I think I did the mourning part of not playing when I actually stopped, so this felt like a totally new thing. Like I had mentioned what - Thursday? - it feels similar but different. The match itself felt entirely different. I felt connected to the game in a very new way.”
“In a bad way, or a good way?”
“A good way,” Nick said thoughtfully. “As a player, I felt responsible for my plays and what I did. Now, as a coach, I feel responsible for all of them. For thinking about how one thing will impact things for everyone. But at the same time, I recognize that I can’t control it all. I need to give them the information and tools that they need, and then they decide what they do with it. I think I kind of like that.”
“I love hearing how much you love this job, Nick,” said Charlie. Nick felt himself swell with joy. Charlie’s compliments, always delivered authentically, never failed to make Nick feel like his biggest self. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”
“Yeah, the job is…yeah,” said Nick, the words coming out jerkily. He paused for a second. “I truly do love what I’m doing.” Nick truly missed Charlie so much it hurt, and this time, the words broke past the firewall he’d kept, trying to keep the depth of his feelings muted. “But I also miss you,” he said, his heart jumping at the naked admission. “I love doing this, and I miss you so much.”
“God, I miss you too,” said Charlie, the words tumbling out in a rush like he had been trying to hold them in. “I miss you, Nick.”
I wish you were here, every second.
I physically hurt because I miss you so much.
I want to be in the same city as you.
I miss living together.
Nick physically bit down, pressing his teeth together to stop the torrent of words from rushing out. All of the thoughts that had roiled in his head bubbled and frothed, each fighting to make their way out.
Without warning, Nick zoomed back to a memory of his uni girlfriend. They had been together for a year, and things had gone well. Nick had gotten picked up by a Junior team in London after uni, and his girlfriend had gotten a job in the city. When Nick’s lease was up, he had eagerly suggested to her that they move in together so they could see each other when he was back on his rare weekends from the team. She had reacted with shock, saying it was far too early to move in together. Nick had even overheard her on the phone with her mum, quietly saying that Nick was pushing way too far, too fast. In retrospect, she may have been right, but the memory still gutted Nick, thinking of his anxious terror in those long seconds after he had brought it up, right before she had flatly rejected the idea.
Still reeling from that, Nick’s brain whipped to a memory of Marla. Marla hadn’t been ready when Nick had told her he loved her.
“That’s…that’s nice, and so sweet,” Marla had told him cautiously when he’d professed his love after around six months. “I’m just…I’m not there, Nick.” Nick had nodded and assured her that he understood, but he hadn’t. They had all the pieces for love, and Nick truly did believe he loved her. Clearly, they had made it past that stutter of a moment, but Nick remembered the same terrifying feeling in the pause after he’d told Marla he loved her. Nick knew in that moment that he’d said too much, too soon. Come on too strong. Nick swallowed hard, his throat working against the burn there as he brought himself back to the moment, looking at the face of this beautiful man who occupied such a large and tender place in his heart.
Nick so badly wanted to let the words rush out. He wanted to tell Charlie that he hated distance. That he wanted them to be together. But for what purpose? To make Charlie feel badly, or guilty about a situation that neither one of them could change? Nick knew this was his own shit to deal with, a darkly blossoming realisation that he was in a reality where their time together would be short, spaced out, and precious. He didn’t need to unload that on Charlie. He didn’t want that silent, horrible moment of waiting when he told Charlie how he felt and Charlie had to come up with the right words to let Nick down gently, to let Nick know that he was being too much.
“I miss you, Nick,” Charlie had said. Nick settled for safety in understatement.
“I can’t wait to see you in two weekends,” said Nick, struggling to control his breathing which had spiked as all of the memories and worries thundered into his mind in the space of a few seconds. “I can’t wait to be with you again.”
-
The week felt endless.
It didn’t help at all that there would be another full week before Nick saw Charlie for the London match. Nick kept looking forward to the match on Saturday and the weekend, then realising that there would be a full additional week before he got to see Charlie. What did help was how incredibly busy Nick was, spending fourteen hours at the stadium between work and working out, only finding time to quickly grab dinner, call his mum or Charlie, or briefly message his friends to refuse their invitations to come over to hang out. Somehow, Nick made it through the week, though it had taken its toll, truly exhausted by then.
Nick got back from training around three on Friday, the day before the match. He stopped by his building’s postbox, nearly exclaiming out loud at the postcard from Charlie. They’d sent a few silly things to each other even in the week and a half it had been since they separated. Just the day before, Charlie had called Nick laughing when he’d opened Nick’s hand turkey. He’d traced his own hand and written one thing he adored about Charlie on each finger, which included:
- The way you look first thing in the morning before we’re even had tea
- Your hands
- The way you're incredibly kind to animals (co-signed by Nellie and Henry)
- How stomach-hurtingly funny you are
- Did I mention your hands?
Charlie had sent him a white postcard with a black line drawing of two characters in front of a large brick building labelled LIBRARY, one holding the door open for the other who seemed to refuse to go in.
“What’s wrong?” the character holding the door was asking.
“You know I’m afraid of heights,” said the other. “No way I’m going in there, mate - it’s too many stories.”
Nick laughed long and loud at that, flipping it over to see Charlie’s short note.
What is wrong with me? I spent actual money on this. You have officially infected me. I hope you’re proud of yourself.
I miss you.
xx
Char
Nick’s heart fluttered. This was so quintessentially Charlie, sassy and thoughtful and perfect. Nick felt a rush in his chest, words he wanted to say to Charlie pooling and churning against his sternum. Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket as he rode the lift to his flat, calling Charlie before he even got in the door. He got Charlie’s voicemail, which Nick had figured, assuming Charlie was still at work. He was still grinning as he walked in the door.
“Hey Char, it’s Nick. I got your postcard, which I would counter is the single wisest financial investment you’ve ever made. I mean, if you paid anything less than seventy-five pounds for that, you’ve essentially stolen it.” Nick kicked off his shoes as he came in, dropping his things and then flopping onto the couch. “I’m just getting back from training now - I have a couple of hours until team dinner, then the match is tomorrow. I’ll give you a secret signal to let you know I’m thinking of you during the match. Every time I flail my arms in a totally controlled and not overly excitable way, know that I’m doing that because I’m saying hi to you, not because I turn into a feral mongoose on the sideline.” Nick smiled, knowing how that would make Charlie laugh. Charlie had done an impression of Nick on FaceTime that week that nearly made Nick piss himself with laughter.
“This card…” Nick said, turning it over and looking at it, his heart twinging. “It’s perfect, Char.” He sat for a moment, emotions coursing through his body. Keep it together, Nelson, he told himself. Don’t turn this very silly and adorable thing Charlie sent into A Thing. No one wants that. Charlie doesn’t want that. Nick’s creeping, critical mind whispered that in harsh tones, scolding him. Yet there was another voice, one without words but near bursting with feeling, cracking against the dam in his chest. That was the one that won this time in his exhausting, breaking through. “It’s perfect, Charlie,” Nick repeated. “Because you’re perfect. And I miss you so much. I’m so glad I see you next week but it feels like a million years away. I wish you were here. Now. With me. I miss you, Charlie. I think I’ll miss you every day.” Nick could feel a wobble in his voice and took a deep breath, getting himself back under control, stemming the tide that was still threatening to spill forth.
He gave a little laugh. “So, yeah, I loved the card,” Nick continued. “I loved it. I…” He swallowed. “I can’t wait to see you. Call me tonight? I’ll probably be home round 8:30 or 9, not too late. I don’t have to wake up too early, either - I might have to set a Char-larm clock, even.” Nick frowned, debating if that one even worked but not regretting it. Or maybe just regretting it a little. “Yikes, Nelson. Okay, I think it’s time for me to go. I’ll talk to you soon.” He hung up and tossed his phone back on the couch, standing and stretching like he could move his muscles away from the burning feeling in his sternum, a heat of something pressing against him. Shame? Guilt? Lucy had explained the difference but Nick couldn’t recall it right now.
There it was, worse and worse all week - the tight knot in Nick’s chest. It was like the same feeling he’d had for ages, the complex tangle that seemed to have strings connected to his skin, all pulling so that he felt like his body didn’t fit quite right. Nick didn’t know if it was missing Charlie or the fear of what he had said being too much or what. Regardless, the sensation seemed to have gotten worse, not better. That gave Nick a twinge of fear, that it wouldn’t get easier to be apart. Nick truly needed it to get easier.
He spent the next few hours answering emails, preparing for the match, showering, and packing his kit for the match the next day. Nick was halfway to the team dinner restaurant and stopped at a light when he cast around for his phone, groaning in annoyance when he realised that he’d forgotten it at home, still on the couch from when he’d tossed it after leaving the message for Charlie. Nick hadn’t even picked it up since then. He’d been like this all week, forgetting things and feeling off-kilter. The whole week had been like learning how to live again, slowly adjusting to this reality where he and Charlie would be long distance, and he was clearly having some growing pains. He briefly considered turning around to go back and get it, but figured that it would only be a few hours, and nearly everyone he knew would be at the restaurant.
The dinner was nice. Nick had always loved team dinners. This had always been a team where the players were friends in addition to colleagues, and it was rare that all of them had time to just bond with one another. The dinners always devolved into storytelling, rinsing one another, and laughter, and tonight was no exception. This time, Will was telling the group around Nick about a recent date that he went on, staying over at the woman’s house one night. He’d gotten up for a middle of the night snack and eaten a handful of gummy bears, not realising at the time that they were the sugar-free ones.
Will described with haunted eyes the aftereffects of the gummy bears, grimly outlining the “inhuman, other-worldly sounds that emerged from me as though every demon was being excised from hell all at once through my butthole.” Nick laughed long and hard along with the other lads, all of them groaning with commiseration.
“What did she say when you got back in bed?” Fitzy asked, once everyone had stopped crying with laughter at Will’s incredibly detailed and vivid sound effects.
“Oh, never did,” said Will, shaking his head. “I grabbed my phone and bolted. I messaged her to say that I heard ghosts last night and the next date would be at my place. I hope that she bought into the idea that her very lovely mid-century modern flat is infested with the souls of ten thousand gastrically challenged ghosts.” He turned to Nick. “I may need to borrow one of those haunted paintings Danny’s always banging on about to make this legit.”
Nick laughed and promised to investigate the logistics of cross-county poltergeist transfer. The night began to wrap soon after that, and Nick slipped to the bar to drop off his water glass, hoping to beat a quick exit. He knew he’d been absent, but he also knew that Amy, Danny, James and Tex had beeni hanging about the coaches offices, waiting to talk to him. Nick knew he should talk to them. But he also knew they’d ask about Charlie, and Nick increasingly felt like paper-thin glass talking about Charlie. Nick felt like he was transparent and breakable, only a thin barrier holding anything back.
Nick turned to put his glass on the bar, startling when he turned around to find two massive men in front of them, arms crossed. “God,” he said, jumping and letting out a surprised exhale at Danny and James, heart hammering. “Warn a guy first.”
“Hard to do that when you haven’t seen him in three years,” said Danny.
“Danny, I literally see you every day. Like, every day.”
“As work proximity associates,” snorted Danny. “Tell me how many times we’ve had soul-baring conversations in the last week? The minimum amount I can tolerate is four and a quarter, and I’m at nil this week, Nick. Do you know what happens when I don’t get to have a heart to heart with my heartsick offensive coach? I pine, Nelson. I pine like Walkie does for Henry Cavill’s thick thighs.”
Nick laughed and James rolled his eyes. “You're thinking of you, baby. Not me.”
“Fair dinkum,” nodded Danny. “Touché”.
“We want to know how you’re doing,” said James to Nick. “I know it was really sudden that you had to come back here, and Charlie had to go to London. How’s that going?”
“It’s all right,” Nick said reflexively. “I mean, it’s hard, but we’re figuring out the distance thing, you know? Talking every night, sending each other things in the post, that kind of thing.”
“Dick pics by post,” Danny said, nodding approvingly. “Excellent call.” He settled on a stool next to Nick after pulling one up for James as well on Nick’s other side. “That was an excellent media answer. How are you really, you filthy lovesick koala?” he asked.
Nick paused. He was fine. He was getting used to this. He was dealing with it. It would get easier with time. They were doing fine with all of it. Nick was realising that they could communicate in all sorts of ways. He was- “I’m fucking awful,” he said, the words bursting out.
Danny let out an exhale through his nose and pressed his lips together. “That’s what we thought.”
“Tell us,” said James simply, leaning on the bar and looking at Nick.
“It’s…fuck,” said Nick, shaking his head. “I miss him. I miss him so much.” Nick looked down from where he sat on the bar stool, fiddling with the beer mat in his hands, not trusting himself to keep it together if he looked at Danny and James. “I miss everything about him. It’s like…I feel like every day is actually harder, somehow. I keep hoping it gets easier, and I guess in some ways it has. Like, I guess I’ve gotten more used to it, at least.” That was true. Nick had gotten more used to the grinding hollowness that was life without Charlie. It just didn’t make him any less sick.
“Have you talked to Charlie about all of this?” asked James gently. “About how you feel?”
“Yes,” said Nick. “Well, sort of. Kind of. Not really?”
“I think that was every possible response of a multiple choice answer,” mused Danny.
Nick snorted. “I’ve…I’ve told him I miss him. And he’s told me he misses me, too. But it’s like…it’s just hard. We were living together, you know? We spent nearly every day together. I know it’s going to be an adjustment. I just feel like…I’m home, but I don’t feel like I’m really home.” Nick chanced a glance up at Danny and James, who were both looking at him with soft expressions.
“Home’s not always a place,” said Danny. James touched him gently on the wrist, and Nick suddenly remembered that Danny lived here, far away from where he grew up. Danny looked at James, his face filled with endless love, before looking back at Nick and waiting for him to speak.
Nick felt his throat tighten and he looked down at the beer mat again, nodding and busying his hands. He cleared his throat a few times before he spoke. When he did, his voice was unsteady and quavering. “Charlie…I feel…I feel like it’s not really home when he’s not with me.” Saying those words out loud, Nick felt a release in his chest, like a few of the bands of the knot there had released. Charlie was home for him. Charlie was home.
“So tell him that,” James said, and Nick looked up, surprised by his tone. James’s face was intensely focused on Nick, his eyes meeting Nick’s. “It’s…we only have so much time, you know? It’s one life. Tell the people you love that you love them,” he said, a wobble in his voice. Nick saw Danny, blinking rapidly and running a hand up James’s back to gently rub the nape of his neck. Tell the people you love. Love.
“If he’s home, if he’s it for you,” said Danny. “Tell him that. Don’t make him wonder. Don’t make yourself wonder, mate.”
“It’s…it’s too soon,” said Nick in what was unintentionally near a whisper. “He was engaged four months ago,” he said, voice stronger. “Four months. That’s how long I’ve known him. That’s barely a hundred days. And he hadn’t even been at Lavender Fields for all of them. We only…we’ve only, like, been together 23 nights. That’s batshit, you don’t tell someone they’re your ‘home’ after 23 days, after four months…” Nick trailed off, a curious expression on Danny’s face. “What?”
“Nothing,” said Danny, failing to suppress a grin. “That’s a lot of maths for a fly-half.”
Nick laughed, despite himself. “You’re a wanker.”
Danny smiled guilelessly, gesturing at James. “I live with this man and get to see him nuddy. Who wouldn’t be wanking constantly with this body at home?”
Nick shook his head and chuckled again before sobering. “I…I can’t. He has a home. I have a home. His home is there. His life is there. I can’t - what am I supposed to do, ask him to move here? It’s been four months.”
“Maybe you’re home for him, too,” James said simply, and Nick looked at him. He had never…Nick knew that Charlie missed him. But Charlie, feeling the same way Nick did? Charlie, wanting to be with Nick all the time like Nick did? Charlie…loving him? Nick almost couldn’t imagine that. It was too staggeringly beautiful to consider.
“And fuck that time shit, Nick,” said Danny vigorously. “The whole idea of linear time is homophobic. I mean, is time even real? Like, I know that sounds nutty, but think about how long an hour with Seamus’s ex Kate used to feel. Then think about how long an hour with Charlie feels.” Nick and James both laughed at that, and Danny looked down his nose at Nick in a professorial manner, like he had just presented an irrefutable argument. “See? Time. Not real.” He grinned at Nick and then went on. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. It just matters how both of you feel.”
Nick paused, both of their words hitting him. Charlie…Charlie was who he wanted to be with. Charlie was his anchor. Charlie was who he wanted to be with. Charlie was…
Charlie was home.
Nick felt something twinge in his chest, a shift of the knot that had tightened all week. It was something different, though - something stirring and turning, like gears moving slowly, rumbling to life.
“What if it had been, like, a year?” asked James suddenly.
“What?” said Nick, cocking his head.
“Imagine you had been together a year, or, like, two years. And now this had happened, you coming back to Leeds. In a perfect world, where it hadn’t been four months, with no one worried about what was not enough time or too soon or whatever, what would be different? Don’t think, just answer. What do you wish would happen with the two of you? Or, think of it this way - how do you wish it would look between the two of you in a year?”
“I’d want to live together,” said Nick, his mouth moving before his brain. He blinked, looking up to see Danny beaming at him, James nodding with a slowly-blooming smile. Once he said it, he knew it was true. He wanted to live with Charlie. It felt too soon, too much, too big, too reckless, but that was what Nick wanted. He wanted to be with Charlie. The glass has cracked, and now the words were out, spilling and puddling in front of Nick in a way he couldn’t ignore.
“Do you think he’d want that? If it had been a year?” asked James, his voice unreasonably reasonable.
“I…I don’t know,” said Nick. “We haven’t talked about that.”
“Then It sounds like you need to have a conversation, mate,” said Danny, the grin still huge on his face. “That means actually talking when we’re all in London next weekend. Not just booping dicks the whole time.”
Nick laughed, feeling a little lighter. “I feel like that’s not your strong suit.”
“It’s not,” Danny agreed, James rolling his eyes affectionately. Then his face got a bit more serious, looking at James with soft, earnest eyes. “But if I hadn’t put how I felt out there to James, I don’t know if we’d have ended up together.” James inhaled, and Danny laced their fingers together. “Then if James hadn’t come to me that day in the changing room, I don’t know if we would have ended up together either,” he said, James looking at Danny with bright eyes. “It took both of us being scared and honest and trying and doing a right fucking shit job of it but talking.”
James pressed his lips together and squeezed Danny’s hand, then looked at Nick again. “See what he wants, Nick,” he said simply. “It doesn’t have to be what he wants now. See what he wants for the two of you. Just…talk. You might not get it right and you might fuck it up, yeah, but you trust Charlie?”
Nick did, with his whole heart. “Yes,” he said quietly.
“Then talk to him.”
Nick nodded for a long moment, imagining how to broach that conversation, a conversion about the future. Their future. What they each wanted and pictured. Conversations of when and what. Maybe not now, maybe not soon. But someday.
“London’s in a week,” said Danny. “You’ll see him, yeah? Talk to him.” He brightened, grinning at Nick. “It’ll be my birthday present for you to talk to him!” Danny made his eyes into misty, doe-like orbs, tilting his head and leaning it on Nick’s shoulder. “Please, Nicky? It’s the only thing I’ll request for my birthday this year.”
Nick laughed. “Danny, you have literally asked for nineteen other things, including ‘carte blanche to cover yourself in feathers and streak through Trafalgar Square to scare the tourists’.”
“Details, Nicky nuts.”
Nick laughed.
“Mate, just talk,” said James gently. “Just start talking, yeah? You don’t need to figure it out all at once. But you can figure it out, one conversation at a time.” He looked at Danny softly, and then back at Nick. “It’s one life, live the one that makes you feel alive.” He paused. “Charlie makes you feel like your biggest self, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nick managed to get out, the words feeling gravelly and rough in his throat.
“Then never, ever, ever let that go,” said James, squeezing his shoulder.
-
Nick was in his car, driving back home. His mind was swirling again, but this time it felt less tumultuous and more like the thoughts were finally settling, cooling off and slowing down. It was another lesson (that Nick apparently had to learn over and over) that opening up was far better than shutting down and shutting others out. Saying out loud to Danny and James how Nick felt about Charlie - even just saying a fraction of what he felt - had made his body feel fractionally looser and lighter than he had all week.
Nick’s thoughts turned to Charlie over and over again as he drove, reflecting on the not-rightness of being away from Charlie. It was just that - it didn’t feel right. It was doable, it was workable, they could do it - but Nick just didn’t want it. His soul just straight-up didn’t want to. Well, not straight-up. Bi up. There was something else there too, though - something niggling in the back of his head and needling his brain, threatening to agitate the thoughts that were just now starting to soothe. Some pressing thing that Nick couldn't quite yet define from the tangle of confusion in his head.
Nick stopped at a light on Otley Road, a street he normally tried to avoid because of the traffic and long lights. Without his phone, though, Nick didn’t entirely trust his memories of the side streets and sighed as he braked, easing his car to a stop in the sea of red tail lights ahead of him. Nick let his gaze drift out the window and saw an older couple in the car next to him, their faces illuminated and clearly visible by the glow of the street lamps above.
The couple had to be in their eighties, faces lined and hair greying or gone, both eating ice cream cones in their car. From the higher vantage point in his SUV, Nick could see them both fairly well. They were laughing, the woman’s face open with joy as she said something to the man. Then she reached across and took her thumb, drawing it up across the man’s nose to wipe away a spot of chocolate ice cream there. She drew her thumb back to her mouth to lick off the ice cream and then reached over again to get more, both she and the man giggling, seeming seventy years younger than they might have actually been.
Nick watched as the man leaned his head back against the back of his seat, smiling as he reached over to touch the elderly woman’s cheek gently. She brought her hand up to rest on his his, and there was a still moment before the light changed and Nick startled, refocusing on the road and automatically starting to drive.
The couple - they had been…they were so…
They seemed so in love.
Of course Nick didn’t really know anything about them, but he assumed they were married, the woman clearly wearing a wedding ring. They just seemed so comfortable with each other - familiarity and quiet intimacy so obvious even from beyond two layers of window glass. The way they had laughed with each other, the way they had touched each other, the way they had looked at each other. That’s what Nick wanted, with Charlie. That’s what he wanted now, and that’s what he wanted forever.
Because Nick was in love with Charlie Spring. He was entirely in love with Charlie.
Nick didn’t know when it had happened, when he had fallen in love, but the knowledge struck him now like a blow to the chest, pressing deeper into his soul with every pulse of his heart. Nick threw on his indicator and pulled over, too staggered to drive for a moment. Nick loved Charlie. He was so deeply in love with that beautiful, perfectly imperfect man.
Nick made it to the side of the road and leaned his head back against the headrest of his seat, letting out an incredulous laugh. He was in love. How had he not seen it before then? Nick tried to make sense of it for a moment; tried to find when it had happened, but gave up quickly. It was like falling asleep. If Nick tried to focus too hard on falling asleep, he’d never pinpoint the exact moment it happened. Yet there he’d find himself, lost in the cocoon of sleep, warm and drifting.
Falling in love with Charlie had been like that. There hadn’t been a moment that Nick could pinpoint; he wouldn’t be able to place a mark on a timeline where he could say, “There. That is where I fell in love with Charlie Spring.” It had happened by degrees, a thousand tiny moments and words and touches. It had happened every time Nick had seen Charlie gently pat Nellie and Henry. Or maybe it was the moments when Charlie spun a drumstick in his gorgeous hands, grinning at Nick before playing. He’d fallen in love with Charlie over morning coffees, singing in the car, pretending to ignore when Charlie was looking at him with a particularly mischievous glint in his eyes. Nick had fallen in love with Charlie a thousand times, and now they were all hitting him, pelting him like the thick raindrops that had just started to fall.
The sound of the rain on his car’s bonnet made Nick partially snap out of his reverie, blinking and looking around in awed wonder like he was seeing the world anew again. He loved Charlie. Nick loved Charlie. The knot in his chest snapped, some of the vines pulling there neatly clipped away. There was still that aching tug, the one that wanted to be with Charlie, but he felt like he understood more now, understood why this had been so much harder than he had even imagined it would be to be apart.
So tell him that. Tell Charlie how you feel. Tell Charlie that you want to be together. Tell Charlie you love him.
Nick fought against it, against the warm voice that sounded so much like Danny and James and Amy and his mum. He couldn’t. It was too soon. He remembered the conversations with his uni girlfriend and with Marla, the missteps where Nick thought maybe he’d pushed too far, too fast, then lived in the tightness of the silence that had followed from each of them, the cowering regret he had felt while he waited to be forgiven. It was too soon.
Wasn’t it?
The rain fell harder, thrumming against the metal of Nick’s car, almost insistently. Nick closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to tell Charlie how he felt. He tried to picture Charlie’s face, closing off like Marla’s, or shutting against him like his uni girlfriend’s. Even when Nick’s anxious, worrying heart pictured a Charlie that didn’t feel the same, he somehow couldn’t see Charlie doing those things. Nick could hear Charlie gently asking Nick for more time. He could see Charlie’s face, patient and understanding, wanting to know how Nick was feeling even if Charlie didn’t feel the same.
Nick’s eyes snapped open, everything now suddenly and startlingly clear. The memories and experiences he’d had in his former relationships - they didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. It was different, now. It was Nick and Charlie. Not Nick and anyone else. The echoes and fears of the past weren’t part of what the two of them had. The past didn’t need to define who Nick was now. Nick was with a partner who cared about him, adored him, and maybe even loved him back. Charlie might love him, too. In a way though - did it matter? Nick loved Charlie. And more than anything, Nick trusted Charlie.
Nick trusted that even if Charlie didn’t feel the same, if he didn’t love Nick yet or he wasn’t ready to figure out a way for them to be together right now, or at least plan for them to be together, Charlie would tell him that. Charlie wouldn’t punish Nick for how he felt or make him feel like Nick should be ashamed of his feelings. Charlie would talk with Nick, like the two of them always had. The fear that had built up in Nick’s chest suddenly evaporated, and only once it did could Nick realise it had even been there. It was cloying, choking fear that had kept him so constricted. It had been the fear of how deeply in love with Charlie he was, and the fear of sharing that with Charlie. Now that it was gone Nick laughed again, realising how free he felt. He didn’t need to be afraid. This was Charlie, the person who made him feel more safe than he’d ever felt in his life.
Nick wanted Charlie in his life, always. Nick wanted to live together, whether it was in Leeds or London. Nick’s thoughts raced again as he hurried home, trying valiantly to stay within a safe and reasonable speed. He was desperate to get to his phone to call Charlie. Nick would tell Charlie that he loved him, and that Nick wanted to be together, in the same city. It didn’t have to be now, of course, but Nick wanted to talk about what a future looked like between them. Maybe Nick finished out this season with the Badgers and then found a pundit job in London next year. Or maybe they set some sort of time period and if things were still going well then, Charlie might look for a job in Leeds. Nick’s heart leapt at that. God, he would love that.
In the few seconds between the car and his building Nick was thoroughly damp, but he didn’t think molten metal falling from the sky could have affected him right now. He was in love with Charlie Spring, and now, finally, Nick couldn’t wait to tell him that. Nick fumbled his key against the lock several times before finally opening the door, beelining straight for his couch and grabbing his phone for the first time in hours. Nick’s heart picked up as he scrolled through the missed calls from Charlie. Seven missed calls, actually. Nick immediately opened his phone and tried to call Charlie back, the phone going straight to voicemail.
Nick started to pace around, messaging Charlie and asking him to call. Nick was energised and eager and terrified all at once, now that he knew what he thought his soul had been trying to tell him since he got back to Leeds. Maybe before then, even. Nick tried to call Charlie again as he changed into joggers and a sweatshirt but the same thing happened, listening to Charlie’s voice asking him to leave his name and number. Nick was seized by a mild panic, one borne more out of the desperate desire to tell Charlie how he felt than genuine worry about Charlie not responding. Maybe his phone wasn’t charged, or maybe he was on the tube.
Nick glanced at the time; it was only half eight. He was struck by an irrational thought, that maybe he could drive down to London to Charlie’s flat to talk to him. Nick could be there by just past midnight, then they could talk and he could sleep a few hours before rushing back to Leeds before the match. He could do it - it would be risky and Nick would be exhausted but he could do it. Nick was reaching for his wallet and keys, ready to dash back out, when there was a knock at the door.
Nick hurried to the door, ready to tell Danny or Amy or whoever it was that he was fine, he just had to go tell Charlie he loved him really quickly and he’d be back with plenty of time for the match. He was grinning at how they’d react to that as he threw open the door, the smile freezing on his face when it opened.
Nick took in the dark curls, water dripping from the ends of a few of them. Long, slender fingers were wrapped around the strap of a rucksack tossed over one shoulder. A perfect mouth, lips slightly parted. Blue eyes locked onto Nick’s, the colour going straight into Nick’s soul.
It was Charlie. It was his Charlie, standing there. Charlie, shivering slightly, looking up at Nick’s face in the most achingly beautiful sight Nick had ever experienced.
Charlie was there.
Notes:
I am in complete and utter denial that there are so few chapters left, so I’m just going to go ahead and shove down my feelings and ignore any emotions that are coming up. I think this is what my therapist recommended, but it’s possible that I misheard her.
Here’s another “measure with your heart” recipe that I like to make: Weeknight veggie tacos.
Ingredients:
1 large sweet potato, peeled and cubed
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Taco or fajita seasoning
1 Jalapeño or serrano pepper
¼ of an onion
2 cloves garlic
1 brick of cream cheese or 1 log of goat cheese, at room temperature
Corn tortillas
1 can black beans, drained
Scallions
CheesePreheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Toss the sweet potato with olive oil, salt, and pepper and roast, turning occasionally.
As the potato roasts, mince the jalapeno or serrano pepper, the onion, and the garlic. Heat 1 Tbsp of oil in a small pan. Add the pepper and the onion, and sauté until the onions are slightly translucent. Add salt and pepper, then add the garlic and sauté for 1-2 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool slightly, then mix the peppers/onions/garlic with the goat or cream cheese.
Once the potatoes are done, remove them from the oven and set aside. Heat a small amount of oil in a large pan until it shimmers. Add 3-4 corn tortillas at a time, slightly toasting them, but not letting them get crispy.
Add a generous amount of the cheese/pepper/onion/garlic mix to each corn tortilla. Top with sweet potatoes, black beans, cheese, and scallions (and any other toppings you might like). I love to make a big batch of the potatoes and cheese mix and then use this throughout the week!
Chapter 30: More
Summary:
Last Time: Nick spent the first couple weeks in Leeds without Charlie, and Did Not Like It. He realised he was in love with Charlie, finally catching up to all of us who have known about this for months.
This Time: Charlie shows up at Nick’s, and they talk. Also, they do other things. Like compare Baroque and Rococo architecture.
Notes:
Oh, wavey and NSB. You’ve tolerated a lot of internal angst about this chapter and read all 11K words twice. Thank you for your lovely, kind, wonderful support and the way you’ve made this so much better! Wavey is a gorgeous mermaid who is writing The Write-Up in between being making thoughtful notes on character development (and sex puns). NSB is a shimmering unicorn of delight who is authoring As You Are when not busy making dick jokes (alongside wavey) and kind/insightful comments in Google docs.
There are a whole host of awesome things that happened this week! Raanne and oatsiexx continued to write (spooky, weird, dark, perfect) magic with Part 3: The Intruder. This chapter is ri-goddamn-diculously hilarious. BeezusRed wrote a little cow and queen Sarah-centered vignette with There Moo-sings. Sarah continues to get it. Hereforhsfanfic wrote a gift fic that is lovely and Danny and James get a cheeky mention! Check out wrong-number story Because You Were There. KitSaidOui wrote a one-shot gift fic for folks who have beta’d with Naked Attraction, which is amazingly based on a real-life television show. Benwvatt continues to make magic with Parting is Such Suite Sorrow. Finally, oatsiexx wrote an incredible gift fic for hereforhsfanfic in HereforMCUfanfic, 11 chapters of perfection that is already complete.
A song to accompany this chapter: “More Love” by Sara Bareilles (though I love the version from the Little Voice Cast as well).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick stared at Charlie for a moment before he could do anything, completely frozen in a sort of joyous, shocked torpor. Charlie gave him a tentative half smile and Nick’s brain finally caught up, instinctively reaching for Charlie’s bag and pulling him inside.
“God, you’re soaked,” Nick said. “Come on…just - come in, let’s get you some new clothes…”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Charlie through chattering teeth.
“Did you forget a coat?” Nick asked inanely, still not processing that Charlie was here, he was real, he was in Nick’s flat.
“Oh, uh…” Charlie looked down at himself like he wasn’t quite sure. “Yeah, I didn’t check the weather before I left. Or get a chance to tell you I was coming, either,” he said, letting out a nervous laugh.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Nick, stepping back so Charlie could come fully in the door and setting his rucksack aside. Then the invisible strings that had been holding him in place snapped and he closed the distance between them, wrapping Charlie in his arms. Charlie hugged him back, fiercely at first, their arms circling around each other and pulling close, like they were trying to fuse their bodies together. It wasn’t far from what Nick actually wanted. After a moment, Nick began to move his hands, tentatively touching parts of Charlie’s arms, his back, his hair. He didn’t fully trust that Charlie was here and that this was happening, and he felt like the only way he could convince himself was by feeling Charlie’s body, feeling it firm and real under his hands was the only way to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Charlie was here. Nick gripped the back of Charlie’s (to be fair, it was his, actually) soaked jumper, cold water dripping down between his fingers. They drew back enough to see each other’s faces fully, a pause before their mouths touched, soft and aching and not enough. Charlie’s lips were ice.
“You must be freezing,” Nick said, murmuring it into Charlie’s hair.
Charlie gave a shivery laugh. “I am.”
“Let’s go to my room,” said Nick, holding Charlie’s hand and leading him down the hall. “Come on, we’ll get you something dry and warm to wear.”
Charlie barely even looked around as they went to Nick’s bedroom, his only focus seeming to be getting out of his drenched clothes as soon as possible. Nick reluctantly let go of Charlie’s hand once they got to his room, hurrying to the closet to pull out the softest, warmest clothes he could find. He settled on a cosy pair of fleece joggers, a tight, knit, long-sleeve henley top, and one of his old personalised Badgers sweatshirts, bringing them over to Charlie.
Charlie undressed and re-dressed quickly, his eyes on Nick every moment like Nick might disappear when Charlie pulled on or off a layer. Nick’s hands flexed, wanting to touch and hold Charlie and pull their bodies together, skin taut and warm and pressing against each other’s. But more than that, Nick wanted to talk to Charlie. The words he had been planning on saying to Charlie, literally about to drive to London to tell Charlie, those words were pushing against his throat, fighting to get out. Granted, he’d counted on a three and half hour rehearsal to figure out how to say the words we wanted to, but that didn’t matter. He’d figure out how to say what he wanted, unpolished or not.
Nick took a steadying breath both to calm himself and calm the words themselves, wanting to give Charlie at least a moment to settle in. Despite the wildness of the moment Nick grinned. He couldn’t believe Charlie was here. Then a bolt of anxiety sliced through his chest. Clearly, Charlie had come here for a reason, just like Nick had planned to go to London for a reason. Nick desperately hoped that their reasons were similar.
Charlie was pulling on the final layer, the sweatshirt, when he finally seemed warm enough to speak again. “I tried to call,” he said, his eyes looking impossibly blue under the cerulean colour of the Badgers jumper and searching Nick’s. “I couldn’t get you, though.”
“Fuck, yeah, sorry,” said Nick, shaking his head in annoyance with himself. “I set my phone aside after I left you that message earlier and forgot it before going to team dinner. I’ve been all out of sorts since I’ve gotten here, I…” He trailed off, feeling that same familiar tug of fear, the one that tried to smother the words trying to rise out of his throat now. Nick felt the grip of anxiety wrap its steel, cold fingers around his windpipe, pressing and tugging on his sternum. But seeing Charlie, seeing the face of the man he loved - the man he loved - calmed Nick, soothing the terror and smoothing it down back into his chest where it simmered, at bay but not gone. “I’ve been a mess since we’ve been apart, honestly,” Nick said with a weak laugh, taking a step towards Charlie, who was standing there in his bedroom, looking even slighter than normal in Nick’s oversized clothes. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so hard to be here without you. It doesn’t feel right not being with you.”
Charlie’s eyes looked overly bright and he blinked a few times, starting to speak twice before he got any words out. When he did, his voice was tight with emotion. “I’ve missed you too,” he said, throat working. Charlie’s hands were inside Nick’s sweatshirt that Charlie was wearing, his fingers toying with the cuffs. Charlie took a quivery breath, looking up at Nick and stepping closer, too. They were face to face, chests about a foot from each other. Nick distantly recognised that he was now damp from holding Charlie earlier, but that didn’t matter at all. All that mattered was right in front of him, Charlie looking both terrified and certain.
“Charlie,” said Nick, moving towards him, the words already threatening to spill. “I wanted to tell you-”
“Can I - can I say something first?” Charlie asked, looking at Nick with his beautiful, amazing face. When Charlie spoke, his voice was tremulous but strong at the same time. Nick nodded, heart jumping in his chest.
“Nick,” Charlie started, and just that alone made tears spring into Nick’s eyes. He’d missed Charlie saying his name so much. It just wasn’t…it wasn’t the same through the phone. “When I met you that first night at Lavender Fields, I feel like you met me, but you didn’t really meet me, you know?” Nick tilted his head for Charlie to go on, not quite knowing where Charlie was going yet, heart beating rapidly. “That night that I got there, I was at one of the lowest points I’d ever been. I’d been in this relationship, this absolute shit relationship, and I was convinced that was all I would ever get. It was like…after so much time with Ben, there was this little voice in the back of my mind telling me I was worthless and didn’t deserve anything more than what I’d gotten. Than anything more than what I’d had in the past…” Nick instinctively went to pull Charlie into his body again, but stopped himself. Charlie didn’t need Nick to protect him from whatever was going on. He just needed Nick to listen. Nick breathed in and out slowly, willing himself to let Charlie get out what he needed to without interruption.
Charlie flexed his hands again, Nick pulling his eyes from them back to Charlie’s face as Charlie went on. “I feel like…It was like my real personality was buried inside me for a really long time,” he continued. Charlie looked up at Nick and Nick’s heart clenched at the look on Charlie’s face, one that bore the echoes of what his life must have been like before he came to Lavender Fields. “You helped me find myself, Nick,” said Charlie quietly, and Nick pressed his lips together to try to stop them from trembling with emotion. “I didn’t know how bright the world could be. I didn’t know that I could feel the way I do when I’m with you. I didn’t know…” Charlie took a breath before looking at Nick. “I didn’t know I could feel like not a burden. Like someone wanted to be with me for who I was, not who they thought they deserved.”
Nick took a sharp breath in and couldn’t help himself from reaching for Charlie’s hand this time, catching the tips of Charlie’s fingers and caressing them like he could work those undeserved anxieties out of Charlie’s skin as he spoke. “I didn’t know that I could feel wanted,” Charlie continued. “I didn’t realise that I could be with someone who treats me the way that you do, Nick.” Charlie looked at their hands, and then back at Nick again with bright, glittering eyes. “It’s you,” he said simply. “Beyond all of that, all of the ways you’ve made me feel, it’s you.” Charlie shook his head a little as if in disbelief. “You are amazing, Nick,” he said, and Nick couldn’t stop his eyes from welling then, his heart legitimately feeling like it was going to burst.
“You are kind. You’re funny. You take the time to teach me things like all of the positions of rugby even when I forget them every time, and you’re always patient when you do. You do so many tiny things every day. Like - you always put toothpaste on my toothbrush for me,” said Charlie, smiling through his own wet eyes at Nick, who was doing the same. “You always give me one of the blue plates when we eat together, because I told you I liked the colour blue one time. You always tuck a little bit of the blanket under me when we’re watching something. You notice things and you care. You make the world feel kinder,” Charlie added quietly. “I didn’t know the world could feel the way it does when I’m with you.”
Nick continued to drift his fingers over the tips of Charlie’s, still swallowing back all of the words he wanted to say to let Charlie finish. His chest was bursting with shock and joy and love - so much love for the man in front of him. “I missed you, Nick,” said Charlie, and Nick felt the words coursing through his chest. God, he had missed Charlie, too. “I missed you every second of every day.” Charlie gave a little incredulous laugh. “I kept looking around the office wondering why everyone wasn’t furious all the time. Like, I wanted to throw things and yell and have a proper tantrum. Other people were annoyed at being back, but I kept wondering how they could just go on working like things were normal. I realised that it’s because I had something that I cared about so much - someone I cared about so much, and I hated being away from you.”
Charlie took another breath and gently took his hand from Nick’s. He stood in front of Nick, hands by his side with his fingers nervously playing again with the cuffs of the sweatshirt. “All week, I’ve just been missing you more and more. I loved it when we talked and have been counting down the days until next weekend in London, but it was…it was like a piece of me was missing, you know? It’s felt like I haven’t been my whole self.” Nick felt his heart stutter in his chest and caught himself about to reach for Charlie again, stopping himself with tangible effort to let Charlie go on. “It just got harder and I kept thinking about time. I kept thinking that I’d gone 29 years of my life without knowing you, and how the part of it where I knew you was way, way better.” Charlie let out a weak chuckle and Nick echoed it, a half-grin on his face. “When you called today and I got your voicemail,” Charlie began, and Nick’s stomach swooped. He hardly remembered what he had said on that call except for how desperately he missed Charlie and hoped it hadn’t been too overwhelming. “I thought…” Charlie looked at Nick, his eyes looking between Nick’s. “I thought that maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe it wasn’t just me who feels like the way we are right now - that it’s not enough.”
Nick inhaled, the sound whispering through the quiet in the room, heart thrumming with a shot of anxiety again. Charlie opened his mouth, closed it again. Then opened it again, his voice shaking a little but strong. Sure. “You and I were talking about what had happened with Ben. I said that I thought maybe what I was getting with him was all I would get. You said something to me, Nick.” Charlie took a steadying breath.
“You said, ‘There is enough, so ask for more’.”
Charlie’s words were soft, and Nick felt the world wobble on its axis a bit. Nick remembered that exact conversation. He remembered the mingled anger and conviction he’d said it with, wanting with every part of his soul for Charlie to know it was true. Nick felt staggered that Charlie remembered those words and had held onto them. Charlie was even closer now, his fingers twining with each other, twisting his hands. When Charlie spoke, Nick could hear the tremor in his voice. “I want more, Nick.”
Nick’s heart seized and he opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie stopped him, reaching out an ice-cold hand and taking one of Nick’s. Nick looked down at their hands now joined again, Charlie’s fingers shaking a little.
“I don’t want to be part-time boyfriends, Nick,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “I want more.” He took another breath and Nick stood there, his hand hot and slippery in Charlies, his own breath hitching as Charlie spoke. “I want to live in the same place as you,” said Charlie, looking at Nick’s face with his dark eyebrows drawn together over the blue of his eyes. “I know we’d have to figure things out and figure out how to do it, but I want to be with you. I think I realised all of this as soon as we were apart, but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon, or if I would be asking for too much.” He gave another weak laugh. “Elle and Tao and all of them told me I was being an idiot, in both loving and aggressive ways.” Charlie looked back at Nick, face settling back into seriousness. “I want to see you every day, not just on the weekends where we can make it work. Or not, like, every day. We wouldn’t need to live together or anything, but Nick, I don’t want to be hours apart for who knows how long. I want more.”
Nick was frozen again, almost not daring to believe what was happening. He was completely overwhelmed, waves of joy and disbelief crashing into him, over and over. Charlie felt like Nick did. Charlie wanted to be together. Charlie wanted to be in the same city. Charlie wanted to figure out how this could work. Charlie wanted the same thing that he did. Charlie-
Charlie spoke again, sounding more nervous now. “It…it sounds mad, I know,” he said, words coming a bit more quickly now. “Like I know the idea of moving so soon is mad, let alone moving in together. But I want to at least…talk about it. I want to talk about how we could be together, because I want to be with you, Nick. If you’ll…if you’ll have me.” Charlie’s hand trembled in his, then he bit his lip, paused, and finally let out another half-laugh. “So, uh - the end.”
Nick’s brain finally came back online, the surging joy releasing its hold enough for Nick to recognise that Charlie had said what he needed to, and Nick’s melting, astounded brain could finally respond. Charlie was here. And Charlie was telling Nick what he wanted - what Charlie wanted. He was coming to Nick to say something terrifying and scary and asking for what he wanted and Nick was just standing there like a boob. An utterly besotted, amazed, staggeringly-in-love boob. Nick took Charlie’s other hand too and pulled them to his chest, pressing their joined hands against his heart. “Charlie,” he said, the words came out somewhere between laughing and crying. “I was about to drive to London to tell you the exact same thing. I literally had the keys in my hand when I heard you knock. I’ve been - I’ve been thinking about the same thing all week and I’ve-”
“You were going to drive to London?” Charlie asked, his face changing from anxiety to delight to confused concern as Nick spoke. “But the match…”
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight, Char, and for the last few days,” Nick said, waving that off and speaking over Charlie. “I want more, too,” he said earnestly, his heart glowing at the sight of Charlie’s face transforming, lighting up with the most brilliant smile Nick had ever seen growing, his dimples tucking in. “I want us to live in the same place, too. I hate being away from you. I’ll do whatever it takes for us to live together, or even just in the same city if you’d prefer that to start,” Nick said, reaching out to caress Charlie’s face, tracing one of his thumbs along Charlie’s bottom lip. “I can finish out this season here and then find some other job in London,” Nick said, the words now tumbling out, untethered and rushing. “Most of the large sport channels film out of there; I’m sure my agent can help me find something as a pundit or a commentator, and I can find a flat if you didn’t want to live together yet and at least that way we can be in the same city even if-” Nick’s scattered, wild rambling was cut off when Charlie gently put his middle two fingers on Nick’s lips, mercifully cutting him off.
“Nick,” Charlie said laughing, his whole body looking looser and lighter. He smiled, lighting up the room and Nick’s life with one glowing look. “One of us has a job that can easily be done remotely, and it’s not you.”
“You - what? But I-”
“I don’t want you to quit the Badgers,” Charlie said earnestly, shaking his head and taking Nick’s hands again. “They’re your team. I know it’s been your home since you found the team, and I know how happy it makes you. I’ve seen you with rugby,” Charlie said, his voice soft. “You love rugby. You love being with the team. This is where you’re supposed to be.”
“I’m supposed to be with you, Charlie,” Nick blurted out, pulling Charlie close again, their hands tucked together at his chest. “All I want is to be where you are.”
Charlie blinked, his eyes welling up. “That’s all I want, too.”
Nick pressed his lips together as they trembled, the corners of his mouth tugging down as the burst of emotions tried to emerge. He took a long, unsteady breath and shook his head, so utterly blown away that Charlie was saying the same words to him that he had said to Danny and James just an hour ago. The same words, two different worlds. But really, just one universe - the one that was kind enough to have let them meet. Nick felt so close to being able to take a full inhale or exhale for the first time in weeks. They wanted the same thing - they both wanted to be together, to live in the same city. They didn’t have to try to hide that any more.
A tiny, fearful, almost childlike part of Nick felt a wave of relief, that now he didn’t need to put his feelings for Charlie out there now. Nick could wait, could avoid the stomach-wobbling terror of telling Charlie that he loved him, both of them secure in the knowledge that they wanted the same things. There was a much larger part of Nick, though, that had never felt so secure, safe, and cared for. He couldn’t imagine a dismissive Charlie, a callous and cruel Charlie who shamed Nick for feeling too much too soon. That just wasn’t who Charlie was. Charlie was everything good in the world put into one person.
Beyond that, here was Charlie, in front of him. Charlie was telling Nick exactly what he wanted. Charlie, who’d been told in words and actions to keep what he wanted to himself for years, that Charlie - that Charlie was here, asking for what he deserved. Charlie, who was bright and bold and amazing despite someone telling him how little he deserved for so long. Nick loved that Charlie. Nick wanted that Charlie to know how truly incredible he was, and how desperately lucky Nick was to have Charlie in his life.
Though Nick’s chest fluttered with giddy nerves, he knew he wanted to tell Charlie how he felt. The true relief would be to tell Charlie how in love with him Nick was, no matter if Charlie felt the same - yet or ever. Charlie deserved to know how loved he was. As soon as Nick realised that, the feelings in his chest that had been pressing there since he saw that couple earlier seemed to boil up, craving and needing release.
Nick reached over to take Charlie’s hand, softly tangling their fingers together. Their bodies were close and Nick raised a hand to touch Charlie’s face again, his hand unshaking now. Steady. “You’re it for me, Charlie Spring,” said Nick, a slow smile blooming on his face, completely unstoppable. “I am one hundred percent, entirely and completely done for you.” Charlie was smiling too, the grin spreading across his cheeks. “I was literally about to drive to London and tell you how I felt, tell you that you are it for me. I was afraid…I was afraid that I might come on too strong or, like, scare you away. And that might still be true, I know, but I know that I’m not scared of how I feel,” Nick continued, looking deeply into Charlie’s eyes. “I’m not afraid of how I feel about you.”
Nick took a breath, heart racing only from love and not anxiety this time. “I love you,” Nick said, and Charlie’s face changed, his eyebrows drawing together and lips parting, just barely. “I love you and I want to be with you. You are incredible, Charlie Spring.” Nick laughed aloud. The knot in his chest was gone, the pressure evaporated, and he felt gloriously free. “You’re incredible! I sometimes - I can’t believe you exist. I can’t believe that all of the incredible pieces of who you are exist in one person. For someone to be so talented, smart, funny, and beautiful…” Nick shook his head in wonder. “You are perfect, Charlie. Like, I know no one is actually perfect but the mix of all of the things you are, who they make you - that you is perfect just as you are,” said Nick softly. “I love the exact you that you are, Charlie, and no matter what happens, that’s just part of who I am. Loving you is just part of me now.
“I want you to move here. I just want to be with you, for as long as you’ll have me. God, I hope it’s forever, Char. I want you in Leeds. I want to be able to see you every morning, or at least drive over and bring you coffee or scones if you want to get your own place.” Charlie’s face was still frozen in that inscrutable expression, his eyes looking brighter than ever. “I want you here with me, but mostly, I want you to be wherever you’re happy. This flat, a place of your own, a place we find together - I don’t care about anything, except being with you.” Nick took a breath, the air feeling richer and more expansive than it did before. “You might not be there, Charlie, and that’s okay, I promise. It’s more than okay - I don’t expect you to feel the same way yet. But I’m not afraid of how I feel about you. I love you. I want to be with you. I’ve fallen entirely in love with you, Charlie. I just want to be with you.”
Charlie let out a little gasping cry, his chest hitching though he didn’t look away from Nick. “Nick, I-”
Nick placed a hand on Charlie’s arm, then his shoulder, then his cheek, not able to get enough of touching Charlie, not now or ever. “You don’t have to respond, Charlie,” he said, speaking over Charlie who had opened his mouth to say something again. “I know it’s soon, and honestly, me loving you is enough for me right now. Like I said, I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just wanted to tell you that-” Nick was startled by Charlie’s hand closing on the front of his shirt, pulling him in and cutting him off with a kiss.
“I’m trying to tell you how desperately in love with you I am, you giant rugby idiot!” said Charlie, half-laughing and half-crying. He put one hand on Nick’s chest, against his heart. “Nick, I am so stupidly, entirely in love with you.”
Nick paused, blinked, jerked his head like he’d been shocked. “You…you love me?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, that same laugh-cry hiccuping out as he shook his head, the tears flowing freely down his smiling cheeks, his arms wrapped around Nick’s neck. “I love you so much.”
Nick looked at Charlie in wondering amazement, pulling him closer. “I love you so much!”
“I got that,” said Charlie, laughing harder now, the sound mixing with tears. “I think that might have been established the last ten times you just told me you were in love with me.”
Nick laughed, too, leaning his head back. “Why are we like this?” he said aloud, half-laughing and half-groaning.
“I have no idea,” said Charlie, giggling and looking up at Nick’s face. “Two absolute dorks.”
Nick gripped Charlie’s body closer to him, Charlie’s arms around his neck. He’d never felt so secure and safe. He closed his eyes and pulled Charlie into his chest, a wash of relief and comfort settling like soft snow in his chest. They’d both been separately miserable, when they could have just talked about this. Told each other how they felt. “I love you,” Nick whispered, trying to pour ten days’ worth of desperate longing into the words. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Nick Nelson,” said Charlie, his voice trembling.
The dam broke then, both of them clutching one another. Nick felt the tears drip down his nose into Charlie’s hair, mixing with the rainwater. Nick’s body hitched as he cried out all of the feelings from the last two weeks. The euphoric, soaring joy when they had spent the weekend in Clevedon. The gripping terror of the phone calls, the stomach-tightening anxiety of not knowing what it would be like. And then the endless, empty reality of thinking that this was what it would be - a life where they saw each other when they could, stolen moments in a sea of aching loneliness. Nick had fought all of it down and now the relief let it all escape out of him, pressing his lips together and letting out a strangled cry, chest aching with feeling.
“Come on,” Charlie murmured through his own tears, pulling Nick to the bed. They lay there, clinging to one another still for many minutes until their breath settled. Nick’s head was on Charlie’s chest, Charlie’s fingers running endlessly through Nick’s hair over and and over, smoothing the strands down in the most delicious, calming sensation Nick thought he’d ever experienced. Nick couldn’t believe Charlie was here. Charlie, the bravest person he knew.
Nick sniffled as he tried to get himself back together. “Did something…isn’t your job still making you all come back, though?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his hands still stroking Nick’s hair. Nick suppressed a moan, but just barely. He reluctantly moved away from Charlie’s hands so he could fully focus on what Charlie was saying, laying his head on one of the pillows and turning his body towards Charlie. He would have had no chance of that with Charlie’s fingers in his hair. Charlie did the same, scooting close so that their faces were just a few inches from one another’s. Nick tucked one of his legs between Charlie’s and wrapped his foot around Charlie’s ankle, tangling them together and pulling their bodies even closer. Charlie rested one of his hands on Nick’s hip and Nick snuggled forward so their bodies were touching. “Yeah, president douchetwat is still insisting that we have to come in, at least for another two weeks, and then we’ll reconsider.”
Nick grinned. “President douchetwat. Danny will like that. He’s been using a different descriptor every time he talks about your job calling you all back.”
Charlie laughed, too. “Oh my god, I need to hear some of these.”
“I’m sure he’ll be willing to share them all with you. God, off the top of my head, the ones I can remember? President skinny-dick, Fuckles the clown, ‘that candy corn bitch’, Rumpleforeskin-”
Charlie burst out laughing, rolling away for a moment to not laugh directly in Nick’s face. “Okay, yes. President Rumpleforeskin forever.” He turned back and smiled. “But yeah, so your mum’s cookbook has been selling really well, and-”
“Wait a second - what?” asked Nick, absolutely boggled. “Her cookbook - it’s selling? It’s for sale?”
Charlie grinned, and Nick felt his stomach swoop dangerously to see that look on Charlie’s face in person again. He loved it so much. He loved Charlie so much. “Yeah, she and I have been talking about it. That division said it’s one of the best sellers right now, the whole ‘cottagecore’ feel seems to be an underserved cookbook market.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Right?” said Charlie. “I mean, her recipes are incredible obviously, but it’s been so cool to see how well it’s done. Your mum is actually going to work with our media and marketing teams; she might set up an Insta specifically for Lavender Fields recipes.”
Nick laughed. “I don’t even think she has a personal Insta right now. I can’t imagine her as an influencer, but she’s always done things that surprise me.”
Charlie grinned at him again, this time with the hint of menace that Nick equally loved and feared. “There is going to be so much sliding into her DMs, I bet.”
Nick slowly pulled the hood of his own jumper over his head and pulled the strings tight so that only a tiny circle of his face showed, making Charlie giggle. Charlie reached over to pry it back open, Nick laughing as he did. He caught Charlie’s hand and kissed the heel of his palm. Nick still couldn’t believe that Charlie was here. “...What was it about her cookbook you were bringing up before you decided to choose violence?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Charlie, giggling. “So anyway, I actually got a few calls from a friend of mine who’s opening their own publishing house. They’re a friend of Tao’s, actually, and have secured a good amount of capital. I guess Tao had told them about me and they’d done some research on the things I’ve worked on. They think I have a really good eye and want me to come on as an agent and help vet books. It’d be full remote, and it might be a little risky, but I guess they’ve already gotten a lot of interest and support.”
Nick was still genuinely amazed at the idea that Charlie had already thought about this, to the degree that he’d even started thinking about different job possibilities. “You’d…you’d seriously think about leaving your current job?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie with a shrug. “It’s just a job, you know? It’s not like the Badgers are for you - not for me. This job is fine - like, I like the work but I can do that work wherever. Especially at a company that doesn’t make me come into work in person like president Fucklet the clown or whatever Danny called him.”
Nick laughed, and the sound felt delicious in his chest. He had missed laughing with Charlie more than he knew. He pulled Charlie close and tangled his fingers in Charlie’s hair, hardly daring to believe any of this was real. Even now, he still couldn’t quite believe that Charlie was here, that Charlie missed Nick as much as Nick missed him, that Charlie would consider moving to Leeds. And that Charlie - Charlie fucking Elvira Spring - loved him. “If they let you stay remote at your current place, though, would you?”
“Maybe?” said Charlie. “Honestly, I like the idea of a change. I’d get to read a lot more submissions rather than just work with the material that I get. I miss old roles where I was doing more of that, and working at a starting place like this and getting my foot in the door could open up a lot of possibilities for me. So I’ll see what happens in two weeks when they decide if we’re allowed to go remote again.” He grinned at Nick, looking supremely confident in a way that made Nick feel so privileged to be in the same room as this smart, driven, deeply creative man. “Now I have options and leverage.”
Nick grinned. “I can imagine you sending the new president some sort of scathing and deeply intelligent, ‘I Quit’ gift to the new president if you decided to leave.”
Charlie giggled, and the swell in Nick’s chest only grew. “Oh yeah? What would I do?”
Nick considered for a second. “I’m imagining you as Cal and him as Rose and you presenting him with some sort of giant jewelry box, but when he opens it, it’s a necklace where the charms are old typewriter keys spelling, ‘Fuck u, I’m out’. Where the ‘u’ is just the letter, of course.”
Charlie laughed. “Of course. That’s two fewer typewriter keys that I’d need to steal.” He snuggled closer to Nick and they lay there for a moment in silence, their giggles quieting to soft breathing and they held their bodies together.
In the silence, Nick’s brain was working and considering. He knew Charlie had said all of this, but he had to be sure. Nick sat moved so he was sitting up, back against the pillows and headboard. Charlie joined him, moving so he was sitting back like Nick and waiting for him to speak. “Do you…do you mean it, Charlie? Would you actually consider moving to Leeds? You’d leave London and move here?”
Charlie tucked his knees into his chest and hugged them close, blue eyes searching Nick’s. When he spoke, his voice had that same mingle of nerves and surety as when he had first arrived. “I would, yeah. I just want…I just want to be with you.”
Nick was still so stunned from all of this, and he couldn’t help but check again. It was so much for Charlie to give up his whole life; it felt unfair, somehow. “You’d really - you’d be giving up so much, Charlie. I feel like it’s so much of you giving things up and so little of me giving anything up. I don’t want you to have to uproot your life while I keep the same job and the same city. That’s just-”
Charlie quieted him again with another soft touch of Nick’s cheek, one that made Nick close his eyes against the caress of Charlie’s fingers. God, it felt so good for Charlie to touch him again. “We’re not keeping score, Nick,” he said gently. “We’re on the same team.”
Nick felt his throat tighten again and took a deep breath in, nodding against the burn of emotions. They were. It wasn’t ever them against each other; it was them facing everything. Together. “Charlie - I…” his voice cracked and he tried again. “I want you here more than anything. More than literally anything, Charlie. Are you absolutely sure you’re willing to move here? Leave your home in London?”
Charlie’s face was so open, listening to Nick like he truly cared what Nick was saying. He smiled softly. “You don’t need to manage how I feel, Nick,” Charlie said, and Nick went to protest. Charlie put his hand on Nick’s and went on. “I know you think about me, and that means so much to me, Nick. But know that with you, I finally…” he trailed off, voice tight before trying again. “I’ll tell you what I want, and I’ll tell you if things are too much - which they aren’t. I’ll tell you if something feels stressful or unbalanced. That being said - what I want is to be where you are, Nick,” he said. Then Charlie swallowed, his beautiful pale throat working. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and full of feeling again. “You are home for me, Nick. I want to be where you are. That’s what matters to me”
Nick felt his mouth trembling again, his fingers gripping onto Charlie’s hand as they looked at each other, eyes filled with care, joy, and love. There was a quivering, perfect, endless moment before Charlie pressed forward to kiss Nick, their lips meeting together softly, almost like it was the first time they had kissed. It started gentle and almost exploratory, like both of them were reassuring themselves that this was real. They’d both spent ten days torn apart, both of them trembling to tell the other how they felt. Charlie’s lips tasted like familiarity, promise, and an incredible sense of being home. Charlie was here. They were in love. They were going to live in the same city together. And they had forever.
Soft kisses slowly increased in depth, Charlie’s fingers going up and under Nick’s sweatshirt and pressing against his skin. Nick arched his back up, needing to feel more of Charlie on him, despite Charlie’s entire weight on top of his body. Charlie groaned and both of their mouths became increasingly desperate. Charlie tugged hard on Nick’s sweatshirt, pulling it up with one hand, the other tracing up Nick’s side under his clothes. Nick took the hint and got rid of it and the t-shirt underneath of it as soon as possible, Charlie pulling off the sweatshirt that Nick had given him too before getting back on top of Nick. Nick couldn’t suppress the soft moan he made when their chests pressed together, skin touching skin. It was as if Nick had been cold for weeks and now here he was, cuddled close to the fire he’d been craving. Nick wanted to get closer to the flames, to lose himself in the embers. He pulled Charlie closer, their chests together. He wrapped one of his legs around Charlie’s top hip to hold them together tightly. Charlie braced himself against Nick, wrapping his arms under and behind Nick’s for more leverage to pull them still closer. They kissed like it was the first and the last time rolled into this one moment where they were the only two people on the planet and there was no such thing as time, just feeling.
Nick shivered as Charlie let go just enough to kiss down the side of his neck to his throat, and then back up to his jaw. His fingers pressed dimples into Charlie’s back as Charlie moved his lips everywhere, clutching against Charlie’s body like it was the only thing that would anchor him to the bed.
“I missed you so much,” murmured Charlie. “I missed touching you so much.”
Nick arched his back again when Charlie went for that spot between his ear and his jaw. He could barely speak as Charlie’s lips and tongue toyed with him, Charlie making soft sounds close to his ear. “I missed - god, Charlie, you feel so good - I missed this. I missed you.”
Nick groaned as Charlie’s hips rolled against his, flowing and sensual. “I missed making you feel good,” said Charlie, his mouth now exploring Nick’s chest, a mixture of hot kisses and cool air that made Nick feel like he was melting. Their bodies were close and warm, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Nick craved more, a deeper and tighter connection that felt like an ache he couldn’t soothe.
Nick’s fingers gripped onto the waistband of Charlie’s joggers now, and he hooked his thumb in the waistband. “Can I - can we take these off?” he said, trying not to whine. “I don’t even need us to do anything, I just want to feel your body on mine,” Nick said, his breath shallow. “Every night when we were apart,” he panted. “Every night I just wanted you with me. I wanted to feel you on me.”
“Funny,” said Charlie, already tugging his own down and then going for Nick’s, pulling them off too. He leaned closer to Nick’s ear again, voice silken. “So many of those nights I’ve been wanting to feel you in me.”
Nick’s eyes flew open, looking at Charlie, who looked half sheepish and half pleased with himself. “Charlie Spring,” he said wonderingly, a giddy and stunned grin growing across his face. God, he loved Charlie so much, this man with his perfect balance of gentleness, humour, and absolute menace. “Wow.”
Charlie cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you’re not interested, then,” he said, starting to roll away with a grin.
Nick caught him halfway, his own smile hitching up the side of his face. “It’s a good suggestion,” he said, rolling Charlie on his back and hovering over him, Nick bracing himself on his hands. The look on Charlie’s face shifted to one of velvety sultriness, one of those Charlie looks that made Nick’s muscles quiver before Charlie even touched him. He leaned down and kissed Charlie’s neck, moving his hips in a figure of eight against Charlie’s as his hand and mouth traversed Charlie’s body. Charlie’s hips were pressing up over and over, searching for connection with Nick’s. They were murmuring disgustingly soppy things together, breathless recitations of how much they had missed each other and how good they felt, things that if they had been recorded Nick may have been mildly embarrassed by. He stood by all of them, though.
Things got even more heated as they moved their bodies, skin sliding against hot, damp skin. Nick could feel every touch lighting up his nerves. Between the incredible joy at having Charlie back, the grounding security in their future, and the hot coursing of lust, Nick felt like he’d never been more connected, more in his body. It seemed like Charlie felt the same, responding to Nick’s touches like every one was new. Charlie moaned when Nick mouthed down his chest, taking his time as he moved his lips to trace along the creases in Charlie’s hips, touching the tender pale skin there over and over, not able to get enough.
“What about…” Charlie was saying, the words breathy even as he tried to be cheeky. “What…about….bamban?”
Nick chuckled and he felt Charlie squirm pleasurably under the vibration in his throat, so close to where Charlie was straining. “Fuck that,” Nick said. “I don’t play any more. Plus I’m a very important boss and I get to make the rules now.”
“If that’s what you think, Coach Nick Nelson,” said Charlie, tugging at his hair. Charlie made the “k” sound crisp in the way that he did that made Nick’s legs feel like they were made out of jelly. The way he made Nick’s name sound was almost as sexy as Charlie himself. Almost. “Give me a few minutes, okay?” He slid out of bed over Nick’s weak protests, somewhat mitigating Nick’s sadness with a long, trailing stroke down and across his low hips that Nick played over and over in his imagination the whole time Charlie was in the loo.
When he came out a bit later, Charlie was wearing Nick’s sweatshirt from earlier that he must have picked up from the floor, though he was wearing nothing else.
“Quite the fashion over there, Charlie,” said Nick with a grin. “You look like sexy Winnie the Pooh.”
Charlie looked down at himself and laughed. “I got cold after the shower,” he said, mock-defensively. He leaned close to Nick, fingers trailing over his chest as he leaned over the edge of the bed.
“If only I could think of a way to warm you up,” said Nick, taking Charlie’s hand and kissing the tips of his fingers, trying to pull Charlie back on top of him. It was positively criminal that their skin wasn’t fully touching.
“If only,” repeated Charlie with a soft smile, laughing as he braced his weight back and pulled away from Nick. “Where do you keep lube and stuff?”
“Here,” said Nick, brain melty and fuzzy from Charlie’s touch, pointing. “In the bedside drawer.” Charlie pulled his hand away slowly and left another trailing path across Nick’s torso, turning and opening the drawer. When he did, Nick saw the NELSON emblazoned across the back of the sweatshirt that Charlie was wearing. Something deep, animalistic, and oddly grounding stirred in his chest, and Nick sat up and lunged forward, catching Charlie by the waist and pulling him back into bed with a squeak of surprise.
“You look fit as fuck wearing my name,” Nick growled, nosing into the space between Charlie’s shoulder and neck as Charlie moaned softly, pliant and loose under Nick’s touch. Nick had a sudden, brilliant flash to the future, of them sharing a last name. Maybe his, maybe Charlie’s, or maybe a combination. Nick thought any of those would be absolutely perfect. He imagined them in a warm kitchen together, cooking breakfast for themselves, maybe guests staying with them, in a house with their shared name on the front. Nick liked that idea. He loved that idea.
Charlie reached a hand behind him and tangled his fingers in Nick’s hair, bringing Nick back into the moment. He could fantasise about that later. He had Charlie in front of him right now and Nick wanted to savour and worship every inch of his body. Nick started slow, the heat back at a simmer but temperatures slowly rising. He had no idea how long his lips, fingers, and tongue traversed Charlie’s body, tracing patterns over Charlie’s skin and drinking in every sight and sound. Charlie’s eyes were closed as Nick made his way up and down and back up again, hips bucking up. He groaned in a mix of frustration and pleasure when Nick firmly pinned one hip down, wanting to prolong his exploration of Charlie’s body until Charlie finally whimpered for more.
They took their time prepping, Nick wanting the experience to be as supportive and patient as the one Charlie had given him. Nick had spent a lot of time reading as much as he could and even watching some of the more instructional videos that he’d surprisingly found on Pornhub. Nick had eagerly taken in as much as he could in understanding how he could make sex as enjoyable as possible for Charlie, treating every website like an intense study session. Nick wanted to be the best student that he could - the true top of his class.
Oh, he was going to say that one sometime and see if Charlie would still have sex with him afterwards. Not tonight, though.
Nick started slowly like Charlie had, pausing to run his hands up and down Charlie’s legs and torso, or stopping to press a line of kisses down his shin, all the way to the arch of Charlie’s foot before even starting to prep. Everything about Charlie was sensual; every part of his skin was a canvas that Nick wanted to paint with his fingers and mouth and skin. Charlie was on his stomach, hips and chest propped on some of Nick’s pillows. Nick had one hand gripping Charlie by the hip, the other focused on opening and preparing Charlie, with every sense trained on his body and sounds and face.
Nick had used his hand and his mouth on Charlie as prep and foreplay. He didn’t think he was quite as skilled as Charlie had been with him, though Charlie had still moaned and moved against the pillows and sheets, murmuring gentle feedback or reacting when Nick did something that felt good. Nick had been supremely proud of himself when he’d found Charlie’s prostate earlier, and was now listening as Charlie’s sounds became coloured with deeper pleasure and wanting.
They worked their way up to three fingers, and Charlie was keening and arching against the bed, reaching back and gripping Nick’s arm in a way that might leave bruises. Not that Nick minded. Every touch was a reminder of the fact that Charlie was here and real and moving to Leeds. That golden-painted thought kept glowing and sparkling in Nick’s soul, redoubling his efforts to show Charlie how much he cared about him with his words and body. It seemed like it was working.
“Nick,” Charlie panted, breath deep and ragged. “I want…” He closed his eyes and opened them again. “I want you, baby. I’m ready.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Nick, withdrawing his hand. He ran the other hand from Charlie’s hip and up his back, rubbing his neck briefly and leaning forward to kiss Charlie’s shoulders, his back. “I want you, too. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Uh, yes,” said Charlie, rolling over with a lazy, blissed-out smile. “This has already been…” he sighed, the breath sounding sweet and coming from his soul. “This has already been so good. It feels so good to be with you again.”
Nick leaned in to kiss Charlie, their lips touching once, then again. It was soft and rich, tasting like time. Like they had endless, delicious time. “I love you,” Nick whispered, not getting tired of the words. Not even close.
“I love you,” said Charlie. He sighed as Nick drifted his fingers over his chest and down his torso, shivering when Nick teased around Charlie’s inner thighs, brushing but not actually touching Charlie yet. Charlie shivered and laughed. “Actually, cancel that, I hate you.”
“No, you like me!”
Nick could hear the smile in Charlie’s voice. “I really don’t.”
Nick grinned. “I figured we waited ten days, what’s ten seconds more?”
“It’s ten days plus ten seconds too long,” said Charlie, kissing Nick and then rolling back on his stomach and propping himself back up on a few pillows. “Is this - do you want me like this?”
Nick paused, something feeling not quite right, though he couldn’t immediately place it. “Can we…can we change?”
Charlie looked back and tilted his head. “Change? Like…flip?”
“No, no, I mean positions,” said Nick. “Can you just…” He shook his head at the idea of Charlie’s face being away from him. “Can you be on your back? I want to be able to see you.”
Charlie looked at him and gave him a soft, deeply fond look. He turned and kissed Nick long and slow on the mouth before getting on his back, bending his knees and planting his feet closer to his bum. He smiled at Nick then, a broad grin that made rivulets of warm water run down Nick’s spine as he shifted into position, poised in front of Charlie. “The syrup farm called, Nick,” Charlie said, mouth hitched to the side in a smile. “They want their sap back.”
Nick looked at him, laughing and shaking his head. “Charlie, I’ve been too sad to have a wank for over a week. If you don’t want me to come prematurely you can’t make puns while I’m about to be inside you!”
Charlie laughed, dropping his head back. Then he lifted it back up and looked at Nick, his face trusting and open. He reached for one of Nick’s arms and pulled Nick towards him, Nick coming along and holding himself up on his arms. They kissed again and then separated, Charlie relaxing his neck and Nick moving back in front of Charlie. “Nick. I want you. Please.”
Nick held one of Charlie’s calves in his hands, lifting his leg. With his other hand, he held himself against Charlie’s entrance, hesitating. He wanted so badly for Charlie to feel good, for every ounce of his care and respect for Charlie to come through in how this felt.
Charlie seemed to sense his hesitation. “I’ll tell you how it feels, baby,” he said, reaching out to stroke Nick’s hand. “I promise.”
Nick nodded, his throat thick and dry, before he responded. “Okay,” he said. He started to push in slowly, trying to make his movement as intentional and gentle as Charlie had. Nick watched Charlie anxiously, his eyes closed and breath deep, dark eyelashes in gorgeous onyx contrast against his olive skin. The feeling was tight and dizzying and perfect and nothing else in the world existed. Only this did. Only they did. “Are you…?”
“Yes,” murmured Charlie, his tone the edge of a soft, breathy, wanting moan. “Keep…keep going.”
Slowly, slowly Nick pushed in, gasping when he felt himself slip past Charlie’s entrance. His brain was rattled, the warm, wet heat enveloping him. Nick had had penetrative sex with women before, and it was wonderful. This, though - this was almost beyond comprehension, because it was Charlie. Nick stopped, though it felt like his hips wanted to twitch forward, the slick tightness making his entire body tingle. He waited as Charlie adjusted, rubbing patterns on Charlie’s leg, running his thumb along Charlie’s shin. Charlie nodded and they slowly kept going, an inch at a time. Nick’s mind nearly unspooled when he looked down to see them joined together. Nick pressed in until their bodies slotted together, fitting in quiet ecstacy.
“Oh,” Nick breathed as he pressed in the final bit, every bit of their bodies connected as they could be. It was like the last time. It was the closeness that he craved, feeling like a salve on his soul. It was them, pure and vulnerable and open, trusting each other. It was purely, entirely them. Okay, Charlie may have been right about the sap thing. But with this man in front of him and around him and wanting to move to be with him - could he really be blamed?
“Nick…” breathed Charlie, clutching his arm. “I want you to…please move, yes, please, Nick.”
Nick pulled back slowly and then paused before gliding his hips forward, a sound like a symphony coming from Charlie. That alone nearly set Nick over the edge and he breathed through his nose, trying to keep himself from finishing and make this as good as he could for Charlie. Charlie’s eyes were closed in bliss as Nick began to speed up, moving his hips as fluidly as he could, rolling up and in. Charlie’s noises were a mixture of low, chesty moans and sharper cries of pleasure. Nick wanted to close his eyes too to get lost in sensations, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off of Charlie. Charlie. The love of his life. The keeper of his heart. His home. Their bodies met, again and again, their skin warm and damp with perspiration and heat.
Nick knew he was tilting inexorably to the edge, and he paused, Charlie’s eyes fluttering open. “Can we - what if we go on our sides? So I can touch you more easily?”
Charlie gave a blissful smile and nodded, sighing as Nick withdrew and then humming in deep, contented fullness when Nick pressed back in, their bodies locking against one another. In this position, Nick could reach around and touch Charlie, driving up with his hips and down with his hand at the same time, Charlie reaching behind him to grip Nick’s arm, his wrist, his hair. Charlie’s hand clutched and grabbed as he moaned, pressing his cheek against Nick’s.
“I’m…I’m so close, Nick,” Charlie said, hand tightening in Nick’s hair and making him know that he wasn’t far off, either.
“Yes, Charlie,” breathed Nick into his ear. “I want you to feel so good, love, so good…”
Charlie’s head leaned back against Nick’s and he tipped over the edge, low throaty sounds spilling out. The pulsations and tiny movements and quivers felt mind-melting against Nick and it set him off, gripping Charlie’s shoulder and thrusting up and forward, following Charlie into heavy, body-melted bliss. They lay there for a moment, breath heavy and full. Nick didn’t know if his heart had ever felt so content, with his love in his arms and entirely around him. It wasn’t just the sex, either, it was that Charlie was entirely around him, immersed in his life. And not just for tonight - they had an entire future of promise stretching before them.
They sighed as they slowly separated, Nick getting a soft washcloth and cleaning Charlie first, kissing his stomach, hips, thighs, and chest. He cleaned himself too and got into bed where they lay in still, exhausted silence for a moment, Charlie’s fingers playing with the light hairs on Nick’s chest before Nick spoke.
“Will you stay this weekend?” Nick asked, rolling on his side and tucking Charlie close with a leg over his hip. “Can you stay?”
“Of course,” said Charlie, running a finger over Nick’s eyebrow. “I planned on it. As long as you’re okay with me being here.”
“Actually, yeah, I think you should probably go,” deadpanned Nick with a fabricated sigh, caging Charlie between his thighs. “I have this super-hot, super smart burgeoning new literary agent and business owner boyfriend and I don’t want to be caught in bed with his evil twin who is also all of those things but makes jokes about my mum shagging people.”
Charlie laughed, and the sound felt like it was filling all of Nick’s senses. He loved that sound. “Okay, I’ll leave,” he said, pretending to struggle against Nick’s grip. “Oh nooooo,” he said in a comical and unrepentant lament. “I can’t escape. Looks like your boyfriend will have to pry me out of the sexiest tree-trunk-thighs in Britain.”
Now Nick laughed. “Tree trunk thighs?”
Charlie grinned. “You heard me.”
Nick smiled and dropped his head on his pillow, looking at Charlie. “The team is going to lose their minds when they see you. Once Danny notices you, I hope you’re ready for a very assertive amount of highly sexualised eye contact.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and laughed. “I can imagine.” He paused, looking at Nick. “Amy knows I’m here, actually.”
“Does she?!” exclaimed Nick, sitting partially up and looking at Charlie, surprised. “Since when?”
“Just tonight,” said Charlie, sitting up and snuggling closer to Nick. Nick put his arm around him and touched his bicep, his shoulder, his neck. Nick didn’t know if he’d ever be able to touch Charlie as much as he wanted to, forever. “I couldn’t get in touch with you, but your phone was showing you at home, so I just called to see if she knew what was going on.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Nick, having totally forgotten that he and Charlie had Find My Friends on, one of the many requirements of being friends with Danny Turner. “I’m glad you thought of that; that was such shit timing for me to not have my phone.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing it was unlikely that Charlie and Amy talked about just strictly where Nick was. “What did she say?”
“She said you were at team dinner still, and that she had just left and you were talking to Danny and James.” Charlie grinned. “On her orders, according to her.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Her orders, sure.”
Charlie giggled. “Well, she did capitulate and say that she was part of a collective with the two of them plus Tex and Regan.”
“This should be good.”
“She said that they call themselves the Nick Nelson Deforestation Committee.”
Nick wrinkled his brow. “Deforestation?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, shaking his head and pretending to not be amused. “A committee dedicated to the elimination of pine.”
It took a beat before Nick laughed, then he rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. That is one of her few go-to puns; she’s used that before.”
“She said you’d say that,” said Charlie with a grin. “She also said that it’s homophobic of you to not appreciate recycling.” Nick laughed, and Charlie joined in before sobering. “She didn’t tell me too much; we didn’t talk long. She just said that you - it sounded like you were feeling the way I had been,” Charlie said quietly. “That being apart was harder than you and I had even thought it was going to be.”
“Fuck, it was,” said Nick, snuggling Charlie close, sliding a hand behind his back to pull them even more tightly to one another.
“It’s late,” said Charlie, running his hands through Nick’s hair. Nick sighed into the feeling; he’d never get enough of it. “You’ve got the match tomorrow, we should go to bed soon.”
“Soon,” Nick echoed, though with no conviction in his voice. He was of course incredibly invested in the match tomorrow and wanted to bring his best self. But he didn’t need to worry about that now. He could be tired and be his best self tomorrow. His whole heart would be waiting at home for him at the end of the day, and that would give Nick more energy and inspiration than anything else he could imagine.
-
Nick was able to sort out a spot for Charlie on the way to the match, never letting go of Charlie’s hand on the drive over. He spoke briefly to both Imogen and the affectionately named Erin the Librarian, who took care of their team’s administrative tasks. Imogen and Erin both greeted Charlie warmly and promised to keep him company until the match, Erin telling Charlie that she’d show him around the offices and keep him warm with coffee.
Nick was glad to be in the coaches’ office before the match, and he tried to suppress the massive, beaming grin on his face when Coach Croft and James gave the pre-match speeches. He lingered behind the team as they ran down the tunnel, walking to the bench and immediately scanning the crowd, his face lighting up when he located Charlie directly behind the bench, sitting next to Wilco, Annette, and their kids. Charlie gave him a gorgeous smile and Nick returned the greeting with an arm-cocked half wave, almost seized by joy that Charlie was here, and Charlie wasn’t leaving. Amy gave him a delighted yell and a wave, blowing endless kisses and shouting that she couldn’t wait to see him after the match.
It took until halfway through warmups for James to turn while he was stretching, his face breaking into a broad smile when he caught sight of Charlie. He nudged Tex and elbowed Danny, both of them turning and scanning the crowd where James was pointing. It was already loud, so Nick could only see the clear outline of “Charlie?” on Danny’s lips, followed by what looked like, “What the fucking fuck?! Fuck! Fucking yes!”
Danny pointed with delight to Charlie, then at Nick, and back to Charlie again, mouth open in a wide smile. Then he did a little hip-thrusting movement, pulling his fists into his body with his elbows bent, tongue sticking out. He gave Charlie a questioning look between Charlie and Nick while he did it, continuing until Charlie gave an “of course” type shrug, making Danny whoop and jump partially onto Nick’s shoulders.
“Get off,” Nick grunted, trying to get away from Danny’s bear-like body. He was grinning the whole time, though.
“Fuck off, Nelson!” cheered Danny. “Your man is here! How did…” He shook his head, then pointed firmly at Nick. “Match first, story second. But we are going to talk about what happened and what you’re thinking and what you’re feeling and how you’re feeling about what you’re thinking after the match. Got it, you mangy cunt?”
Nick laughed. “Fair enough. Now get the fuck out there.”
“Aye aye coach,” said Danny, bounding away with a giant smile on his face.
The Badgers fought hard in a tough match and were able to eke out a win, pushed over the edge by a brilliant play by Danny, assisted by Tex and James. Danny slid smoothly over the try line, picking up the ball, kissing it, and extending it in Charlie’s direction with a wink. Nick laughed loudly as the whistle blew, the team exploding in delight. The players all swarmed over one another, hugging and laughing. It was a riot of happiness, everyone grinning and cheering, entirely lost in the moment of joy and celebration. Nick smiled at the happy tumult around him - it was like an external manifestation of how he’d felt since last night, since Charlie had arrived at his flat. No thoughts, no worries about the future, just joy in what happened and the moment they had.
Nick looked over at Charlie, smiling and hugging Annette and Wilco in the stands. He stood for a moment, the team celebrating around him, then jogged over to where Charlie was sitting, moving with purpose. Charlie looked over as Nick approached, a smile still on his face, now with a curious head tilt. Charlie put his hands on the railing and leaned over to say hello to Nick, or maybe congratulate him. Nick lifted Charlie’s gloved hand off the railing and brought it to his lips, giving it a quick kiss before setting it back on the railing, Charlie looking at him in astonished, disbelieving delight.
Nick gave a quick grin and wave to Annette and Wilco, the crowd far too loud for any reasonable conversation with them or Charlie. He turned back to Charlie and gave him a long, loving look that Charlie met, his eyes bright and looking bluer than ever under his Badgers hat. Tonight, they’d all be able to celebrate - Charlie and Nick, Wilco and Annette, Amy and the team. They’d have hours to tell everyone about Charlie moving to Leeds and then days and weeks to figure out the details. The details didn’t matter. Nick’s flat, a flat they found together - none of it mattered. All that mattered was Charlie was here, and Charlie was staying. They loved each other, and that was all that they needed to know for now. Everything else they’d figure out together.
Notes:
Lemon Blueberry Cake
This is one of my favorite recipes in the world. I hope you enjoy it!
Ingredients (cake):
1 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 and 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 Tbsp pure vanilla extract
3 cups flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup buttermilk
2 Tbsp lemon zest
1/2 cup lemon juice (3 medium lemons)
1 and 1/2 cups (blueberries, fresh or frozen - do not thaw if frozen)
1 Tbsp all-purpose flourCream Cheese Frosting
8 ounces softened cream cheese
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
3 and 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1 – 2 Tbsp heavy cream
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
pinch saltSteps:
Preheat the oven to 350°F (177°C). Grease three 8 or 9 inch round cake pans. Line with parchment paper rounds, then grease the parchment paper.
Make the cake: Using a handheld or stand mixer with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on high until creamy – about 1 minute. Add granulated and brown sugars and beat on medium-high speed for about 2-3 minutes. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat on medium speed until everything is completely combined, about 2 full minutes.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients. Beat on low speed for 5 seconds, then beat in the milk, lemon zest, and lemon juice until just combined. Toss the blueberries with 1 Tablespoon of flour and gently fold into the batter. Batter is extremely thick. Do not over-mix.
Spoon batter evenly into prepared cake pans. Bake for about 21-25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely in the pan before assembling and frosting.
Make the frosting: Using a handheld or stand mixer with a paddle attachment, beat cream cheese and butter together on medium speed until no lumps remain, about 3 full minutes. Add confectioners’ sugar, 1 Tablespoon cream, vanilla extract, and salt with the mixer running on low. Turn the mixer to high speed and beat for 3 minutes. Add 1 more Tablespoon of cream to thin out, if needed.
Assemble and frost: Place 1 layer on a plate or cake stand. Evenly cover the top with cream cheese frosting. Top with the second layer, more frosting, then the third layer. Top with frosting and spread around the sides. The recipe doesn’t make a ton of frosting, so keep the layer light. Top with blueberries or lemon garnish if desired. Refrigerate for at least 45 minutes before cutting or else the cake may fall apart as you cut.
Chapter 31: Forever
Summary:
Last Time: Nick and Charlie confessed their love for each other like two sappy sap-covered saps. Then they talked about the tensile strength of different fabrics.
This Time: The group goes to London to celebrate Danny’s birthday. Nick and Charlie grow, now and in the future.
Notes:
Thirty-one weeks ago, I started writing a story. Three-fifths of a year later, here we are with the last chapter of this story. One of the strangest things about life to me is that we have our own rich internal experience, one that no one else truly gets to see. We have that reality, but then there’s also the feeling of sonder - the realization that everyone in the world has that same experience as you, unique entirely to them - a rich inner monologue and life that no one else gets to peek at inside their head, either. We can be little fishbowl-head people walking around with our own weird little fish swimming and no one actually seeing it.
Despite all that, people find ways to connect with each other and get to share parts of their world with one another. Stories are one way of that. Alice gave us Heartstopper, which created a beautiful connection for so many of us. Then we have this gorgeous little mini-world here on AO3, where people can connect with fics, too. It’s been amazing getting to share this even mini-er (it’s a word, all right?) world of Lavender Fields with you all every Thursday. It’s become part of my routine - getting to post this and then getting to chat with so many of you as the story progressed. I am so grateful for everyone who had read, given kudos to, and commented on this story. It means more to me than you know to get to share this little fishbowl together!
A massive thank you to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. I would guess that each of you have spent over 60 hours helping me with this story - do you know how many things you could have done with those 60 hours? You could have baked so many souffles, or build a bunch of sandcastles. You could have watched Titanic, like, 18 times. Or who knows, knitted a sweater out of cat hair. The options were endless. And you’ve spent those with me, in this story helping make it what it is. Granted, you’ve spent 55 of those hours making dick jokes in the comments, but I stand by every one that you did. I love both of you.
And a thank you to everyone who has written a story that’s referenced or linked to Lavender Fields - ebun78, ImBackHereAgain, Nikki999, justhowfastthenightchanges, benwvatt, battlefish, raanne, oatsiexx, and of course BeezusRed. It’s been amazing to share this LF world with you!
Thanks for coming along on this journey. I love you all.
Songs that served some inspiration for this chapter - “Glad It’s Over” by Imani Graham and “Little Girl Gone” by Chinchilla during the scene at the club (no, do not be scared, they are for good reasons), and Vanessa Carlton’s “I Don’t Want to be a Bride” at the end. There is the tiniest bit of smut and only because Wavey and NSB abjectly and unapologetically bullied me into it.
Part of this chapter has been recorded by the incomparable songbird3724 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next week was an incredibly busy one, but Nick didn’t care. He could have been stuck on the tube with several flatulent and ill-tempered emu and it wouldn’t have impacted him at all. Nick was in love with Charlie. Charlie was in love with him. Charlie was moving to Leeds. Nothing could pop the bright bubble of joy that was in his chest, because this time the surge of happy contentment was inside him. It wasn’t something that could be pierced by external circumstances like last time. This time, it was a private, intensely grounded peace, bolstered by the fact that all guards were down between Nick and Charlie. They were fully each other’s, unafraid of being too much or not enough. Each of them were fully themselves, making them even stronger together.
The weekend itself had been mostly great. Imogen had brought Charlie down to the changing room after the match, the room erupting in cheers, led by Danny and Tex. The celebration had just continued, too. Nick and Charlie dashed back to Nick’s place - their place? That remained to be seen - to change quickly before heading to Danny and James’s for pre-drinks. Wilco and Annette had made a last-minute call to offer their house for the party itself, a swarm of ruggers and friends descending on their gorgeous home like a swarm of drunken and affectionate bees.
Nick felt so free that night, blissfully drinking in the feeling of getting to be with Charlie, openly and without reservation. It was nothing short of miraculous to wrap his arms around Charlie from behind as they played a game of beer pong, kissing Charlie’s neck and having no one blink an eye. Charlie had been right at home, too, catching up with Nick’s crew and chatting easily with Nick’s teammates who he didn’t know as well yet.
Yet. That word was so gorgeous to Nick. It wasn’t an if - it was a when. Charlie was moving to Leeds. Charlie had already become a part of Nick’s friend group, and now it was just going to get even better. Everyone had reacted predictably when Nick and Charlie shared that Charlie was moving to Leeds: Amy slapped Nick on the arm with excitement, before bounding over to Charlie and wrapping him in a bone-crushing embrace, James gave both of them a warm hug and congratulated them, Tex grinned and Regan squealed, and Danny burst into tears, repeating through his happy sobs that he “just loved love, especially when it was amazing sinful super-gay love”.
There had been a few small blog posts and gossip articles that came out the Sunday after the match, published along with some photographs of Nick kissing Charlie’s gloved hand from the pitch. The headlines were predictably terrible (things like, “What’s in the Water? Leeds Continues to be the Gayest Team in Rugby”) and the team’s response was predictably wonderful, a string of ignored questions, “no comments”, and prolonged, dead-eyed stares at journalists until the asker squirmed in discomfort. It had all faded over the course of that week, the small and mostly local media items easily overshadowed by the next big scandal. Nick knew it might have been different if he were still playing, but his fame had already begun to fade and the public just didn’t seem to care. Nothing caught steam, and by Wednesday, the questions to the team had mostly disappeared.
It hadn’t stopped Charlie from worrying though, peering anxiously over Nick’s shoulder when Nick laughed at one ridiculous headline (“Retired Nick Nelson, Now Leeds Coach, a Buggering Badger?”). Nick had shown Charlie the headline when Charlie asked what he was laughing about, Charlie’s face immediately twisting into a look of concern that made Nick’s heart ache.
“Oh, god, Nick,” Charlie said, his face pale. He’d pulled out his phone and immediately started Googling, fingers tapping at his screen. “This is - I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“Shouldn’t have what?” asked Nick calmly, putting his phone down on the table and pulling the two of their bodies close. “You shouldn’t have come to the match that I invited you to? You shouldn’t have let me kiss you with full knowledge that we were in public?” Charlie opened his mouth as if to protest and then closed it again, looking baffled. “You shouldn’t have had hands? Since I was the one who grabbed yours and kissed it?” Nick grinned. He tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Actually, this is on you. If you didn’t have such sexy hands, I wouldn’t have been tempted. Shame on your seductive hands, Charlie, shame.”
Charlie let out a startled laugh, but his eyebrows immediately went back to a look of concern. “No, Nick, seriously,” he said, picking up Nick’s phone now and scrolling down to glance at more of the article. “Is this, like, a big deal?” He looked at Nick, and Nick hated the look on his face, his beautiful features tight with anxiety. “Are you worried?”
“Literally not at all,” said Nick, meaning it. His mum knew. His friends knew. Imogen and Coach Croft knew, Nick having given him a heads’ up that he was dating a man as soon as he’d gotten back to Leeds. “I love you,” Nick said, shrugging and smiling. “I will never be ashamed of loving you. Anyone who has an issue isn’t someone I need to listen to or need in my life.” He paused, looking at Charlie’s face, which had shifted to something harder to read. Nick’s eyebrows knitted as he considered that this wasn’t just about him any more. They were a team and a partnership. “Are you worried?”
Charlie shook his head before answering. “No,” he said in an odd voice, his tone tight. “I…” Charlie sighed, but there was an edge of happiness to it rather than one of resignation. “I’m just still getting used to you, Nick Nelson.” There was a small, trembling smile on Charlie’s face, and Nick pulled him close again.
“Yeah?” he said, hoping for Charlie to go on.
“I just…” Charlie took a breath. “I’m not used to how good you are, Nick. How open you are with how you feel about me.” He gave a sad half-smile. “I’m not even used to how you feel about me. It’s more than I could ever have imagined five months ago.”
Nick’s heart ached and he pulled them both to stand, moving closer. Nick nuzzled into Charlie’s neck, brushing his lips against the soft skin. “Get used to it, babycakes,” he said. “I’m going to be so obnoxious about how much I love you.”
“Babycakes, gross,” Charlie laughed, his energy lightening. “And what does obnoxious love look like?”
Nick paused, considering. “Lots of mushy cards,” he mused. “Little love notes around the flat. Jumpers with your face on them. More hand turkeys for sure. But that’s just the start. I’ll definitely be doing some skywriting at some point, preferably over a very crowded beach. Oh, and a singing telegram. Just you wait, Charlie, I am going to find one that makes so much eye contact.” Charlie laughed again, the sound rich and throaty. Nick sighed into the perfectness of their embrace, swaying a little on the spot. “For what it’s worth,” Nick said quietly. “I’m not used to you, either. I’m not used to feeling so accepted and secure. I kind of hope I never get used to that. Like, I never want to forget how good this feels.”
Charlie hummed and pulled Nick’s face down to his, kissing him softly. “I hope I never get used to it, either.” Charlie glanced at his phone, the time winding down until he had to go back to London for the week. “Though we have a few more hours to obnoxiously love each other before I have to go back to the land of woodworms and capitalistic company presidents.”
“A few hours, huh?” said Nick, grinning. “In two hours I think I can prove how much I love you…what, like forty-seven times?”
Charlie laughed, the sound turning into a squeak when Nick threw him over his shoulder and lumbered them both back to the bedroom. It might not have been forty-seven times, but the four orgasms (which Nick privately thought of as forgasms) between them would suffice for the five nights that they’d spend apart.
-
Those nights had indeed flown by in a flash, both from the busyness and without the heavy weight of uncertainty Nick had been carrying when he’d first come to Leeds. He knew what his future looked like - and it was a future with Charlie. That was all Nick needed to know, really. They’d talked about it more on Sunday before Charlie left, and both had agreed that they’d prefer to live together than in separate places.
“We’ve already lived together for four months,” Nick said reasonably. “And I have to say, you are an excellent roommate.”
Charlie laughed. “You are, too. I mean, you get used to constantly kissing your roommates of course, but I’ve never had one that both snogs me and bakes.”
They’d spoken more about it over the phone that week, Nick suggested that they look for a new place together, one that felt like theirs instead of Nick’s. They spent the week sending listings back and forth to one another, mixing actual places they were interested in with some truly awful ones. Nick giggled when Charlie sent one that had a combined kitchen/toilet, with a microwave right above the loo. He had fired back an atrocious one of his own, one with aged, yellow-hued mirrors on the walls and ceiling of the bedroom. It wasn’t that Nick wasn’t uninterested in parts of that one, but it did in fact also lack both windows and any floor covering at all.
Nick had an agent when he played rugby, of course, and while Nick’s agent officially negotiated his contracts, Nick thought he had a fairly keen business sense. He’d already argued Charlie down from Charlie’s proposed 50/50 split on rent, even going so far to insist that one of their FaceTimes was over Zoom instead so Nick could screenshare the slides he’d made. Charlie had finally agreed that a 66/34 split was more reasonable (with Nick paying the larger portion, of course - and Charlie demanding that the uneven ⅔ percentage be rounded up on his end for now). Nick’s ultimate goal was a 100/0 split, but he’d slowly get Charlie there over time.
Their phone calls that week had just been fun, all banter and planning and telling one another that they loved each other endlessly. The looming grey fog of worry and uncertainty from the weeks before had been lifted and the free, expansive feeling in Nick’s chest only grew as the days passed. They messaged or talked often throughout the day, except when Danny or Amy stole Nick’s phone to talk to Charlie themselves, Danny often taking Charlie on a rambling FaceTime tour through the changing room or to the team kitchen to watch him make a snack that he narrated like the host of a cooking show. (“And now we spread the sweet chocolate hazelnut reduction on the bread, like so - viewers, I know many of you enjoy delicious sweet nut reductions as well. Try spreading this mix across some hazel nuts of your choosing for a true culinary delight!”)
The week truly flew by. Nick was heading down to London with the team Friday morning and by Friday evening, he’d be in a hotel room with Charlie. Nick felt so wonderfully alive on the bus ride down to London, looking up from diagramming plays to gaze out the window, in awe that this weekend with Charlie wasn’t an end. It wasn’t a quick visit with an endless expanse of time before they’d see each other again. It was a beginning.
Nick stayed busy all day, occasionally looking at his phone and snickering at some meme Charlie had sent. Fortunately, team dinner was relatively short and Nick nearly sprinted out of the hotel’s restaurant to the lobby after a brief coaches’ meeting. He almost yelled aloud in delight when he saw Charlie, a cheeky grin on his face. Nick strode quickly to the middle of the floor and Charlie met him there, the two of them colliding and wrapping themselves around each other.
“Hi,” said Nick, burying his face happily against Charlie’s neck.
“I just came down to ask where the ice machine was,” Charlie said, the grin clear in his voice. “Is this how you treat all your hotel guests, random employee with whom I am unfamiliar?”
“Yes,” murmured Nick, inhaling Charlie’s scent, the light cologne almost intoxicating. “I’m just all about that five-star rating. Can I show you to your room, sir?” He separated from Charlie enough to step back and take his hand. “Come on, we need to get upstairs before the rest of the team sees you.”
Charlie laughed. “Why’s that a bad thing?”
Nick stepped into the lift with Charlie, waiting for the door to at least partially close for decency’s sake before pushing Charlie against the wall. “Because I want you for myself,” he said, his voice low.
“Oh,” said Charlie breathily as Nick kissed his neck, one hand squeezing Nick’s arm under his suit coat, his words sounding dreamy. “Okay then.”
They made it into the room with only a few stumbles against the wall, both of them kissing each other with smiling lips. Nick tore off his suit jacket as soon as they got into the room, already warm. Charlie grinned and ran his hands up and down Nick’s arms and then across the planes of his chest, pressing against the muscles. “Sir, I’m afraid that fondling the employees is frowned upon in this hotel.”
“Fine,” said Charlie, sighing dramatically and turning away from Nick, moving to sit on the bed, lounging back in a sexy-casual pose. He ignored Nick’s long, drawn-out nooooo and laughed when Nick reached after him dramatically, pretending he had no bones and melting into a pile on the floor, hand still reaching for Charlie. “Ugh, gross, that’s a hotel floor Nick!”
Nick winced and nodded, pushing himself up and sitting on the bed next to Charlie. “At least it’s luxury filth?”
“Only the finest floor parasite for the Badgers,” said Charlie grinning. He looked at Nick, his eyes with some sort of curious gleam. “Hey, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Nick, pulling Charlie further up on the bed. Nick settled himself onto the pillows with his legs outstretched and Charlie sat on his lap, knees straddling Nick’s hips, their chests facing one another. “What’s up?”
Charlie took a breath. He seemed nervous and giddy, something simmering under the surface. “I have a new job,” he burst out, beaming at Nick.
Nick froze, the words taking a moment to hit his brain. “You…” He gasped, getting it. “You have a new job! At the new publishing house?!”
“Yes,” said Charlie, laughing as Nick flipped Charlie into the pillows and dove on top of him, peppering Charlie’s face and neck with kisses.
“That’s amazing! Tell me what happened?”
“Well, I’ve been talking to them all week,” Charlie said. “And they actually just sent over an offer yesterday.”
Nick yelped. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday then?!”
Charlie laughed. “I wanted to make sure it was a done deal and that it was a good deal,” he said. “I have a really nice equity stake, and the salary is actually a bit better than what I was making.”
“How did your company take it?” asked Nick.
Charlie grinned, a hint of menace in his smile. “Not well,” he said, giving Nick a smirk. “That just happened today, actually. There was a meeting with the new president where he brought all of the directors and above together to talk about ‘improved productivity processes’.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “I have a guess about what those included.”
Charlie shook his head. “Oh, definitely. He said that remote work was not coming back, and that we were getting this new software that tracks our mouse movements and clicks and stuff.”
Nick was perplexed. “What the fuck, Char?! Like…it tracks what you’re clicking on?”
“Right,” nodded Charlie. “He said that it was supposed to make it so we could focus on work at work and then go home and leave it all at the office. He said it’s actually a benefit to employees because it helps us quickly escalate important issues and stay on track at work so we can leave our jobs at the end of the day and homophobia and capitalism and blah blah blah.”
Nick laughed. “God, that sounds infuriating.””
“It was,” said Charlie, grinning. “So I quit. So did eight others.”
“Eight?!”
“Yeah, we’ve all actually been chatting about it,” said Charlie. “There was a group of us who all felt pretty firmly that if remote work went away, we were done, even before the whole tracking software thing.”
Nick was grinning now, too. “How did Rumplestiltsdick take it?”
Charlie chuckled. “He wasn’t too happy. At all. He then got all blustery and white man-y and said all this stuff about loyalty. One of my colleagues piped up and said that she didn’t feel super loyal to a company that gave ‘generous’ 0.7% cost of living pay rises last year.”
Nick snorted. “Oh, I wish I could have seen the look on his face.” Then he thought of something and grinned, and Charlie audibly groaned. Nick looked at him, confused. “What?”
“You have your pun face on,” Charlie grumbled.
“I’m sorry, my pun face?”
“You heard me, Nelson. You have a tell.”
“What’s my tell?”
“I’ll never tell.”
Nick laughed. “Tell me my tell!”
“Your tell is you looking like you’re about to mildly ruin my day.”
Nick laughed again, loudly. “Okay, fine, but it’s a good one.”
Charlie grinned. “Try me.”
“Just - in all of the talk about being productive and stuff, did you mention that you needed a job that offers remote work so you could move in with your boyfriend? You know,” said Nick with a saucy look. “Productivity versus pro-dick-tivity.”
Charlie let out a sigh that could have come from a portrait person. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
Nick smiled and tackled Charlie to the bed again, nosing into his neck and landing smiling kisses all over Charlie’s face. “I really am.” Then Charlie pushed at Nick’s shoulder and rolled him onto his back and Nick grinned. “Ooh, you mean lucky lucky, huh?”
Charlie snorted and rolled his eyes before the look on his face softened into something altogether different, his eyes taking on that hooded, smoky-feeling look that made Nick’s stomach swoop even now. “I missed this,” he murmured, moving to lay on top of Nick, his thighs slotted between Nick’s. Nick made a quiet noise of assent, pulling Charlie’s body closer to his. “I can’t wait until we don’t have to go a week between doing this.”
“Me too,” said Nick. He was still a little awed at the idea that Charlie had literally changed his career and was moving to Leeds. Charlie was choosing to move to Leeds. For them. It almost made his breath catch to consider that. He swallowed down the emotion threatening to rise in his throat and settled into his breath and body as Charlie’s lips touched against his throat, over and over. Nick could show the appreciation and happiness he was feeling by being present with Charlie, by showing Charlie how much being physically together meant to him.
As the minutes folded into each other and their breathing increased, Nick closed his eyes and let himself drift along the feelings, the glowing surges of pleasure and the warm waves of emotion. Hands explored skin and mouths touched all over one another’s bodies, Nick crying out into a pillow in heady joy when Charlie used his mouth on Nick in that way that was still sparklingly new and amazing. When he lay on the bed, body moving against the duvet with every press of Charlie’s hips, Nick closed his eyes and let himself feel. He felt the closeness between them, connected in every way that they could be. Nick felt Charlie’s fingers in his hair, tugging in that achingly perfect way. He felt Charlie’s arms wrapped around his chest, fingers pressed into Nick’s skin. More than anything, though, Nick felt content, cared for, and deeply in love. He couldn’t believe this was his life. He couldn’t believe this was going to continue to be his life.
Nick truly was the luckiest.
-
The match against the Harlequins was hard-fought, a grinding match with long phases and only a try apiece for each team. Still, the Badgers were able to eke out a win with points from penalties and the mood in the changing room was jubilant, a riot of cheering, chanting, and nude dancing (though that was largely restricted to Danny).
Charlie waited for Nick until his coaching meeting concluded, and then they took Nick’s bags that he had packed up already from the hotel to Charlie’s flat where they’d stay after the party that night. Nick had never seen it except on Facetime and was curious what the flat was actually like. He’d harboured some resentment towards the flat that “stole” Charlie but ended up really liking it - there were so many tiny touches of Charlie throughout. There were probably close to a hundred tiny photographs of Charlie with his friends from photobooths, organised over his desk. Charlie had a weighted blue blanket on his couch that Nick immediately wrapped himself in and had to be coaxed out of by Charlie, loving the heavy, comforting feeling. The flat even smelled like Charlie, that indescribable perfection that Nick adored.
Nick and Charlie rested up as much as they could before the match. Nick knew from exhausted experience that a night out with Danny was just as likely to end with a 3:00 am Macca’s run as it was with everyone streaking into the sea. The night was cold - Nick really hoped it would be the former and not the latter.
After a quick nap, shower, and requisite shower fondle, Nick and Charlie started to get ready, music playing in the background. Charlie had gotten out first, saying that he needed extra time to get ready so he could contend with his hair. Nick finished the lonely end of his shower and got out, drying off with a towel and going to the bedroom to dig around in his bag when a motion caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see Charlie, the look of him stopping Nick dead in his tracks.
Charlie was in a tight black button down shirt that was partially unbuttoned, exposing a delicious amount of his smooth chest. He was wearing dark, fitted jeans that Nick instantly wanted to un-fit from Charlie’s body with his teeth. All of that looked incredible on its own with Charlie just exuding confident sensuality, but then Nick noticed something about Charlie’s face, something that was driving him wild. Nick stopped what he was doing and moved closer, Charlie looking at him carefully as he did.
Nick raised a hand to touch Charlie’s cheek. “Is that…eyeliner?” he asked, his voice sounding unreasonably high even to himself.
Charlie turned and looked in the mirror like he was surprised, too. “Oh, yeah,” he said, voice a little shy. “Do you think it’s - is it too much?”
Nick moved behind Charlie and ran his hands up and down Charlie’s torso, touching the side of his neck gently with his lips in reverent adoration. “No,” Nick breathed. “I fucking love it.”
Charlie smiled, the expression rich and deep. “Oh,” he said, neck reddening a bit. “That’s…good.” They snuggled together for another moment, Nick drinking in the sight of Charlie, gorgeous in front of him. “Come on, we need to go,” said Charlie, grinning and breaking the spell. “We can’t be late for Danny’s birthday.”
“Homophobia,” Nick complained, trying to chase Charlie with his lips as he moved away from Nick.
Charlie laughed. “Can you imagine how mad Danny would be to hear you say that?”
“Can you imagine how mad Danny would be to know that we didn’t shag again before his birthday?”
“Touché.”
Nick laughed ruefully. “You’re right, though, we need to get going.” He pulled on his much more boring outfit, jeans and a patterned button-down, open and with the sleeves rolled up over a white t-shirt. Charlie seemed to like it at least, based on the way he kept running his hands all over Nick’s chest. Nick wasn’t complaining about that at all.
They got an Uber and headed to dinner, meeting up with the crew and taking a picture outside together, Danny immediately tagging all of them in it. Danny loved to document a night out, and his Insta page must have had thousands of images on it. Danny was always too impatient to wait and post multiple photos together as a carousel and it never failed to slightly annoy James, who curated his page carefully. Nick and Charlie looked at the first picture together and grinned. Everyone looked so lively, so happy, so bright. Everyone’s outfits were fire, of course. It was their whole crew - Amy looking stunning in pleather leggings and a shimmering top, Tex in a white shirt and cowboy hat, Regan in a gorgeous purple dress. Seamus had even jetted down from his match, not willing to miss Danny’s birthday. James was wearing a long sleeve black shirt with an artistic slash of mesh across it to show a bit of his skin underneath, and he looked great, even though Nick had never seen him in something like it. Danny was of course wearing a sparkle vest with no shirt underneath and trousers so green they made Nick’s eyes water. It was perfect.
A few other people were there for dinner, too, including Danny and James’s friend Siobhan, Tex’s twin brother Hunter, who was a fairly well-known drag queen in London, and members of the team with their partners. Dinner was loud, riotous, and fun, and they enjoyed themselves before heading to a cocktail lounge that James had booked (and taking another picture, too). Through it all, Nick delighted in being able to touch Charlie, their hands constantly linking with each others’ or resting on a shoulder, a thigh, an arm.
It was nearing midnight when they took their Insta picture at the final planned stop, a club in London that wasn’t specifically LGBTQIA+ but extremely welcoming of everyone. Danny and James had raved about it, and all of Charlie’s friends were meeting them there, too. Danny had warmly invited Charlie to bring them to the dinner and drinks before, but Charlie had demurred. They made their way inside, Danny and James exchanging hugs with the bouncer, who clearly knew them. He lifted the rope and ushered them all inside, Nick walking into the wave of music, vibrant colour, and dancing.
He grinned at the expanse of bodies, rippling and moving underneath the coloured lights. Within a minute of walking in, Danny’s glittery vest was off and he was bare-chested on the dance floor, James rolling his eyes in affectionate annoyance. Nick heard a squeal from over to his left, both he and Charlie turning before the impact, a wild-haired Darcy slamming into them, exuberant with joy.
“You’re finally here!” she squealed, pressing sticky cups into their hands, the drinks having clearly already sloshed over the side. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
Tara, Elle, and Tao followed closely behind, hugging Charlie with fierce, delighted hugs. Tara and Elle hugged Nick, too, and Nick grinned before launching himself at Tao to embrace him. Tao tentatively patted Nick on the head and Nick could hear Charlie stifling a laugh as they separated, Tao clearing his throat and looking ruffled but pleased.
“Oi, you lot!” called Danny, beaming as he made his way over.
“Danimal!” crowed Darcy, her face splitting into a wide smile.
“Digeridarcy!” Danny shouted back, the two of them grabbing one another’s hands and beelining for the dance floor.
Tara only looked surprised for a half a second, then laughed, turning to Charlie. “I think the world is either about to be saved or inexorably ruined.”
Nick and Charlie both laughed, Charlie nodding wryly. “Who says it can’t be a combination of the both?”
Their groups merged with each other, the rugby team members who had met Charlie’s friends all greeting them warmly and the rest introducing themselves. Nick felt floaty and happy, surrounded by so many people he cared about. So many people he loved. The chief among them being Charlie of course, he and Nick never far apart. Nick just loved the public closeness that they’d seemed to develop overnight, ever since he’d kissed Charlie’s hand in the stadium. They spoke about it more that week after the articles had come out, Charlie eventually laughing along with Nick once he saw that Nick truly wasn’t bothered.
They stayed together most of the night, fingers linked as they talk-yelled to their friends over the music. Charlie’s hand tucked into Nick’s back pocket as they stood side by side and chatted with Tara and Tao, Nick fairly glowing at the casual intimacy. They all alternately danced, drank, and conversed with each other, every moment flowing together in a dreamy, colourful reel.
There was some attention on them, but not a massive amount, a few people asking for photos. It was mostly Danny, who unsurprisingly had the largest Internet presence and was fairly well-known. He was also spending most of the night shirtless on the dance floor, busting out incredible moves and sending showers of sweat across the dance floor. Nick had learned quickly to stay out of a certain radius. There were a few pictures asked of Lunker and James, too - Lunker was recognized more often than the others due to his hulking size, and James was known as an object of lust from rugby fans of all genders due to his good looks. Danny beamed every time James was asked for a picture, shimmying his shoulders proudly when he took a snap with some fan’s phone (and interspersing it with many, many selfies that he added to their camera roll).
The music was loud and the bass was thumping through Nick’s chest. He felt alive and free, the rainbow of lights casting dappled colours all over their bodies as they danced. All around them, men were with men, men were with women, women were with women and so on, with no one seeming to care who expressed affection for whom. It was a glorious mix, and Nick entirely lost himself in the music and in Charlie’s orbit. They circled each other, surging towards one another to dance, kissing and bodies pressing against each other, then back again to spin with their friends. They stayed out there for more songs than Nick could count, his and Charlie’s skin both damp with perspiration. As one of the songs - a bomb Mariah Carey mix - started to fade out to another one beginning, Nick saw Danny’s face light up.
“Oi, that’s my friend Nikki over there!” bellowed Danny - which was honestly just a small degree louder than his normal voice. “She’s the one who taught me how to sound like I’m from Manchester!” He grinned brightly at Nick. “Remember? From the incredible criminal mastermind caper that Amy and I pulled off?”
“You mean the one that you’re super embarrassed by and for which you will be remorseful for life?” asked Nick.
“Sure, that one!” Danny said, nodding enthusiastically and giving Nick two thumbs’ up. “Be back!”
Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Nick’s shoulders and pressing close to him, their chests bumping.
“Do you want another drink?” asked Charlie, his lips close to Nick’s ear. Nick turned and kissed Charlie on the cheek. Charlie pretended to look scandalised. “In public, Nicholas? In my good Christian suburbs?”
Nick grinned and then kissed Charlie again, this time on the lips. “In public, my love. Though I would argue this is actually a quite urban neighbourhood.”
Charlie grinned and gave Nick another kiss, too, leaving with Darcy and Tao to get drinks. Elle and Tara were taking a break by a high-top table and Nick drifted back over to his Badgers crew.
Amy toasted him as he made his way over. “You were throwing some serious shapes out there, Nick!”
Nick looked up, surprised. “Really?”
“Yes!” said Amy. “Mostly the shape of being a white guy without rhythm, but you were still out there, so that’s worth something.”
Nick laughed. “I can’t deny who I am, Ames.” He and Amy and Seamus all started chatting, the group changing occasionally as their friends drifted in and out from the dance floor and getting drinks. Still no Charlie, though, even though it has been a bit. Finally Tao and Darcy straggled back, holding drinks and looking exasperated.
“The queue took forever!” shouted Darcy over the music, placing the triangle of three large glasses she was carrying on the high top table alongside the ones Tao put down. “You’d think the super hot bartenders were more interested in getting laid by the super hot patrons than making quality cocktails.”
“Quality cocktails?” asked Nick with a laugh. “I think I saw that the well tequila brand was ‘Tortilla Tequila’, so I’m not sure we’re getting top-notch drinks here. What did you order?”
“Buttery nipples,” said Darcy promptly, taking the top off of a plastic condiment container and shooting it. They all stared at her, confused. “What?” she said with a grin. “I convinced the super hot, super gay lady bartender to put the shots I ordered in these so I could carry them in my pocket.”
“Efficiency,” nodded Amy, toasting Darcy.
“Where’s Charlie?” Nick asked Tao, looking around for the curly head of perfection.
“Still at a bar,” Tao said back. “We all went to different queues; I told him I would come back to help carry some of the drinks he got.”
“I got it,” said Nick, smiling at Tao. “I’ll go help.”
“Thanks,” said Tao, looking relieved. “The concentration of dicknozzles in that whole bar area is beyond safe levels of human exposure. For me, at least. You’ve been in enough changing rooms to have developed antibodies.”
“Thank you for your service!” Darcy called to Nick, Nick chuckling at both of them.
He went towards the bar, scanning and looking for the incredible human form that was Charlie Spring. Nick instinctively headed towards the end of the bar, assuming that Charlie had tried to edge in on the side instead of deal with the massive swell near the centre of the bar. His heart warmed when he saw Charlie, hand on the bar, clearing waiting to order. Nick could feel the grin spreading across his face. Nick beelined for Charlie, eager to put his arms around him and nuzzle into his perfect neck. Nick was nearly at Charlie when he saw a man moving towards Charlie, going directly for him and not the bar. Nick frowned; he could only see the back and part of the side profile of the man’s face, his sleek brown hair covering part of it. Nick kept moving, quickening his steps as the man went towards Charlie. Nick got closer, and experienced a dizzying sense of deja vu when a sweep of the dance floor light illuminated the bar area, casting light on the man’s handsome, awful features.
B. Hope.
Nick felt momentarily staggered, like a hand had pushed on his chest. Nick had no idea what he was doing here - was it just a strange coincidence? That seemed unlikely. Nick quickly recovered from his surprise and moved faster, nearly at a run now. Heart hammering in his throat, he caught up just as Ben extended his hand to touch Charlie’s shoulder, Nick’s hand closing around Ben’s wrist before he made contact.
B. Hope turned around, looking annoyed. His face changed as he took in the sight of Nick, with the irritation changing to shock and then morphing into recognition, all within the space of a second. “Get the fuck off of me, you-” Ben started to hiss at Nick before being cut off by another voice.
“Nick?” Charlie had turned partially around as he waited for a bartender’s attention, his voice reflecting the absolute astonishment that he must have felt seeing his boyfriend holding his ex-fiance by the wrist. Charlie’s eyes flickered over to Ben, and then back to Nick, looking utterly startled. Within another second, though, that look moved into a cold fury. “Why are you here?” Charlie asked Ben, voice steely ice. Nick looked over in surprise at Charlie’s tone, which was sure and steady. Not shaking.
Ben wrenched his wrist from Nick’s grasp (only because Nick had chosen to let him go, honestly, the man had the strength of an earthworm), and stepped to look at Charlie head-on. Nick moved too, standing next to Charlie, just a few inches closer to Ben than Charlie was. “I need to talk to you,” Ben said loudly to Charlie.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Charlie said shortly, taking Nick’s hand and turning away from the bar to leave. Nick was torn between wanting to get Charlie as far away as possible from B. Hope and the urge to punch the man in his stupid arrogant twatty face, just once. It would feel so good. The desire to just get the two of them away from Ben was much stronger, though, and Nick laced his fingers with Charlie and turned with him, wanting nothing more than to be back with their friends, away from this monster who had tried to cut Charlie down at his core for literal years.
“You need to talk to me, Charlie,” Ben said loudly, walking after them as Nick fought to keep his hand locked with Charlie’s from turning into a vise. “You owe me that after everything you ruined in my life.”
Nick, already walking away with Charlie, felt Charlie stop. Nick had to clench his teeth together, a wave of red washing through his brain and body, reminding himself to stay calm. People like Ben used things like this, used their delusion and cruelty to deflect away any blame from themselves and lash out. From what Charlie had told him, this was a common move Ben had used on him in their relationship. He’d always twisted things to make it seem as though Charlie had been the aggressor, the instigator, the problem. Charlie had been the needy one, the anxious one, the one causing issues, and Ben had been forced to deal with him. Nick felt the anger replaced with an icy terror, one that Charlie would be rattled back into believing those things that Ben had metaphorically beat into him, over and over. Too much. His fault. Not deserving.
Nick was turning to - do what? Lunge, snarl, attack, threaten, he wasn’t sure - when Charlie gave his hand a squeeze, Charlie’s fingers pulsing his own. Nick looked at Charlie’s face and was amazed to see the look of calm aloofness on his face. His heart squeezed in pride and incredulousness as Charlie turned around, fixing Ben with an unaffected look. “How I ruined your life, got it,” said Charlie mildly. “What are some of the things I ruined?”
Ben blinked, clearly startled to not have the same reaction from Charlie that he must have gotten in the past, but regrouped. “For everything,” he said, nodding like he truly believed what he was saying. “For embarrassing my parents with a cancelled wedding, for turning a bunch of our friends against me, for…” he glared at Charlie, his eyes flickering to Nick. “We should talk in private,” he said to Charlie, giving another glare at Nick before fixing back on Charlie.
“No,” said Charlie calmly at the same time Nick incredulously said, “No?”
Ben seemed surprised again at Charlie’s unflappable energy. Nick was still astounded by it and falling even more deeply in love with Charlie every second. He looked annoyed but not distressed, as though Ben was an irritation versus anything that actually mattered. “No?” Ben repeated, his face tightening as he seemed to struggle for words again. “But you…” His face changed, like he was changing tactics. Being less worried now about Charlie’s immediate safety and emotional state, Nick could feel his experience shifting in an interesting way, watching B. Hope like he was a documentary. Nick could see the cracks now, see the dark underbelly of who B. Hope was. Ben seemed like he was searching for another angle of attack, recognising that his current approach wasn’t goading Charlie, wasn’t hurting Charlie enough.
“You hurt me, Charlie!” Ben said finally, drawing his eyebrows together and lifting his hands in a look of manufactured supplication. When Charlie didn’t say anything to that, Ben kept going. “You left and you broke the engagement. Then after I came to see you at that fucking farm,” here Ben threw a glare at Nick, who looked blankly at like Ben was a piece of confusing abstract art, trying to emulate Charlie’s energy. “You never called me. You never checked in to see how I was doing. You threw three years away.” He shook his head at Charlie, voice softening and dropping. “You broke my heart, Charlie.”
Charlie tilted his head like a curious bird, his face still radiating coolness that bordered on indifference. “Oh, that’s interesting, Ben,” Charlie said, voice conversational and light now. “Because you messaged me for weeks after you followed me to Lavender Fields, saying how I had never even been important to you and that I was worthless. That I ‘hadn’t been worth the petrol’ of even going there.” Nick felt another flash of fury, but came back down when Charlie rubbed his thumb along Nick’s index finger. He calmed a bit, noting with an inappropriate sense of glee when Ben looked at their linked hands, a sweep of jealousy rippling across his face.
“I never-”
“I also heard from a bunch of friends - your friends, Ben - that you were telling them how glad you were that it was over between us,” said Charlie, still in that calm voice that seemed like it was deliciously maddening to B. Hope, his coolly arrogant face twisting in just-suppressed anger at Charlie’s words and lack of reaction. “You know, your mother called me a month ago to see how I was doing,” Charlie said, with a cold smile. “I was surprised to hear from her. Not because she was calling me - she had a few times since everything ended, did you know that? - but because I had forgotten you existed.” Ben’s mouth tightened and Nick felt his nerves fire, ready to move to protect Charlie if needed. “You said over and over to me and to everyone that you ‘escaped’ from having to marry me,” said Charlie with a shrug. “Weird that you’d follow me here. What did you do, look at the pictures Danny posted that I was in and decide to come out and try to accost me?”
Ben’s eyes flashed and he seemed like he had to unclench his teeth to speak. Nick’s muscles were tensed and ready, despite how relaxed and unflappable Charlie seemed. “I didn’t - it was coincidence - I don’t even fucking care about you,” he snarled, whipsawing in another emotional attack angle.
“That’s weird,” said a loud Aussie voice, Nick looking up to see Danny approaching, moving towards B. Hope with alarming rapidity. “Because you sure look like the same bloke I told off earlier for taking pictures of these two when they were kissing on the dance floor,” Danny said, his jaw jerking towards Nick and Charlie with a smile at Ben that radiated danger. “In fact, I remember offering to shove your phone up your bumhole so you could take a picture of your own colon if you did it again. It kind of seems like you do care about these two.” He flashed a wide grin at Ben, showing far too many teeth for it to be authentically friendly.
Nick clocked that Amy, Seamus, and James were there now, too, all of them forming a loose sort of semi-circle with him and Charlie around Ben, whose eyes were darting around.
“Well, I fucking don’t,” snarled Ben, taking a step back.
Nick heard a sharp hiss of breath and turned to look at Amy, whose face was dawning in comprehension. “Holy fuck,” she said wonderingly, shaking her head. She turned her attention to the pathetic man in front of them, taking a long draw of her beer and then nodding firmly. “Ben Hope,” she said with finality, like she had pieced it together.
“Wait, Benjamin Hope?” asked Danny, his face changing from faux friendliness to utter astonishment. “Like, Charlie’s ex Benjamin Hope?”
“B. Hope,” muttered Nick, still reeling at the sudden change in the night.
“Hold the fuck on,” said Danny, his confusion turning to a malevolent smile again, like he was getting an entirely unexpected birthday gift. “Charlie, is this the dropped meat pie you had the misfortune of dating?”
Nick looked sharply at Charlie and put his hand on his back, wondering how Charlie would react and if he was still okay now that even more people were here. Charlie’s face was still smooth in an incredible expression, one that made it clear that Charlie knew he had won. That Charlie had come out from the experience of B. Hope as the victor, the person whose life was immeasurably better now that he’d escaped. Nick loved to see it.
“Yep,” said Charlie, nodding and then looking at Danny, then back at Ben. “He sure is.”
“This guy - this guy was your fiance?” asked James, his voice loud with indignation and drink, shaking his head and gesturing between him and Danny. “This guy’s been on Grindr for literal years, he hits us up all the time.”
Ben’s eyes widened and he glanced at Charlie, whose face remained stony and unperturbed, giving a sort of “that figures” type shrug. Nick only looked at Charlie for a second before whipping his head back to James, utterly confused now. “Wait - I thought Grindr was for, like, hookups and stuff. How would you…” he trailed off at James’s mild blush and Danny’s lascivious wink.
“Sometimes we like to find a cheeky third,” Danny said with a grin and a toast of his drink, Amy laughing and clinking her drink with Danny’s.
Between B. Hope and this Nick’s brain was momentarily overwhelmed. It was a lot of information to get in just a few moments. “I, uh…”
“It’s okay, angel, that’s not something for you,” said Danny, patting him on the cheek. He turned back to face Ben. “So why are you taking pictures of Nick and Charlie, then?” He said it cheerily enough, but Nick knew the threat underneath the words. “Still obsessed with Charlie, I’m guessing? I get it, you walking open sore. You were a fucking dick to one of the most magic men in the world and now you get to see him happy, now that he’s finally gone from your dunny stench.”
Ben’s mouth opened, his anger seeming to finally overwhelm his shock. He looked quickly at Charlie and then sneered at Danny. “I’m not obsessed,” he said. “I don’t even care about him. Them.”
“Your photo reel says otherwise,” said Danny casually.
Ben licked his lips and looked around. He eyed Danny warily and learned towards Nick and Charlie, trying to keep his voice low enough to not be overheard over the music. “I saw that article about the two of you,” he said, in a low and threatening tone. “About you holding hands at a fucking rugby match.” Nick felt Charlie’s hand tighten in his, the first sense of distress that he’d seen from Charlie since this walking endorsement for condoms had shown up. “You’d better be careful,” Ben said, the insinuation clear in his words. “Don’t want to get exposed.”
“Ben?” said another voice, one that sounded unsure. “What’s…I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Nick looked up to see a slight-statured blonde guy, attractive and young. “I thought you said you weren’t going out tonight?” The man looked nervously at the group of ruggers around B. Hope. “Is everything…okay?”
Danny grinned. “Just fine, mate, all good. He smiled encouragingly at the blonde man. “What’s your name, chief?”
“Matty,” said the man, eyes glancing between Ben and the Badgers and Charlie.
“Matty,” Amy said with a nod, standing next to Danny. “Great name, I love it. Tell me champ, how do you know Ben Hope here?”
Matty looked anxious, but this time, directed at Ben. “Oh, uh - we’ve been…”
“It’s all right, mate, we’re as queer as a Golden Gaytime here,” said Danny cheerfully. “Are you two dating?”
“Yes?” said Matty, glancing at Ben again, whose face seemed to be radiating fury, glaring daggers at Danny.
“How long have you two been hanging out then?” asked Amy. Nick glanced at Charlie, who was following the conversation with polite interest.
“I’m not sure…” said Matty, looking once more at Ben like he didn’t know what Ben would say to the same question. “Like…eight or nine months?”
Amy growled and Matty looked surprised, stepping back. “Oh, sorry babes,” she said. “That sound of pure rage and anger at the absolute audacity of some men wasn’t directed at you.”
A slow-blossoming smile spread across Danny’s face. “Eight months you say?” He turned to James. “Darling, did you happen to bring our 12-month wall calendar with us to the club?”
“Danny,” Nick said in a warning tone, glancing again at Charlie to make sure that he was okay with all of this. Charlie seemed to be more than okay, a small upturn to the corners of his mouth.
Danny looked at Charlie and winked when Charlie gave him a tiny nod. “Now then, Nick,” Danny said, waving a finger at him and then turning it to Ben. “The dildo of consequence rarely arrives lubed, you know.” Charlie snorted and Danny turned to Matty. “So did your beau over here invite you to his wedding? I mean, you two had been dating for three or four months at that point.”
Matty’s eyebrows shot up and he looked goggled. “His…what?”
“His wedding,” said Amy helpfully. “The one where he was going to get married to this guy - oh, this is Charlie, Matty, he is truly a delight - literally five months ago.”
Matty turned to Ben, whose jaw was working in fury. “You were…you were engaged? While we were together?”
“He was, Matty,” said Charlie, finally speaking. His voice was gentle and he let go of Nick’s hand to be able to face Matty. “To me.” Charlie looked at Ben with a look of disdainful disapproval, like he was disappointed to see that Ben was even in the world. God, Nick loved this man so much. “We were together for three years, we just broke up at the end of September.”
“The end of September…” Matty repeated faintly, looking astonished.
“You deserve better than him,” Charlie said quietly but firmly. “I’m sure he’s tried to make you believe you weren’t worthy of being with him. Fuck, he probably told you that you weren’t with him, that it was just a little fun and you were taking it way too seriously.” Nick saw Matty’s face drop a little, and he knew that the truth was settling in. This wasn’t a weird and elaborate prank, all of this was true. “You deserve more than he’s giving you,” Charlie said, stepping back and taking Nick’s hand again. “I know I did.”
Matty’s mouth opened and closed and he gave a tight nod, looking at Ben with a look of disbelieving disgust.
“Hang with us tonight if you want, mate,” said James kindly to Matty. “We’ll all make sure you get home safe and not bothered by this fuck.” James jerked his head towards Ben, who was starting to move away already, mouth tight with rage.
“Oh, leaving so soon sweetheart?” asked Danny, eyes wide. “That’s probably a good call. With all of us here, there’s no chance you’re getting shagged tonight. Your best chance for being inside someone is as an organ donor, so taking off is probably your best bet,” he finished, with a wincing, fake apologetic look.
Ben gave one more look of mingled embarrassment and fury to the group and then fled, bolting towards the door.
“Ah, bless him,” said Amy. “Talk about a person who should have been a blowjob.”
Charlie went back over to Matty and checked on him, the two of them chatting for a bit, some colour eventually coming back into Matty’s face. Nick stepped back to watch and marvel at the man in front of him, his boyfriend. The love of his life. Charlie, who’d gone through so much and had been able to see himself for what he was - a being utterly deserving of love. Someone so laughably above a person like B. Hope. Someone who also cared for others who’d been treated the same way, immediately making sure Matty was all right.
As soon as Charlie stepped away and Amy, Regan, Tara, Elle, and Darcy descended on Matty to buy him drinks and pull him to dance with them, Nick and Charlie moved away from the group to have a moment to themselves.
“Fuck, Charlie,” said Nick, shaking his head. “That was…wow. Are you all right?”
“I am, Nick,” Charlie said, his eyes looking into Nick’s. “A month ago, I might not have been. But now…” Charlie looked around at his friends, Nick’s friends - all now their friends - and then at Nick, his eyes both soft and sparkling. “But I’ve realised what I deserve, and it’s to not give a single second more of energy to people like Ben.”
“That’s….” Nick struggled to find the words that summarised how astounded he was by Charlie. Nick wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to. Charlie was a truly good and kind person, one who made the world better. For whatever reason, life had chosen to throw him hardships and trials, ones that could have beaten Charlie down. Yet Charlie had been a phoenix, rising again and again, casting a brilliant light on the world. Nick felt indescribably lucky to be in his luminance. Nick figured he didn’t need to get those words perfectly right now, though. He had the rest of their lives to show Charlie how amazed Nick was of him, every day. “You’re amazing,” Nick said. “The way you stood up to him and called him on his bullshit - you’re a fucking wonder.”
Charlie smiled, a tiny tinge of sadness to it. Nick knew that that edge of sadness might never go away, the frustration of having to find strength and distance from an unfair and unkind situation he’d been put in. One that he never deserved in the first place. “So much has changed, Nick,” Charlie said. He looked around at the Badgers and friends who were waiting for Nick and Charlie to come back, all of them having gathered together. “I know earlier I said I was still getting used to how open you are about how you feel for me, and that’s true, though it’s changed a lot. But I have gotten used to what I say mattering to someone.” Charlie hooked one arm behind Nick’s neck and put the other hand on his chest. “You make me feel like I matter. He doesn’t. Why would I let someone like that matter to me any more?”
Nick pulled him in for a tight hug, his throat constricted. They stood there for a moment before moving back to their friends, the shock and anger about Ben’s appearance eventually dissolving into a wonderful night of dancing, drinks, colour, and joy. Ben had so desperately wanted to derail everything - Charlie, the night, Matty’s life - but he had no power here. His presence evaporated into the night, only brought back into reality when the group left the club, a few bored-looking photogs standing outside, perking up a bit when Nick and Charlie walked out arm and arm.
Charlie’s eyes flashed over to Nick in mild alarm. “Fuck, I wonder if Ben told them that we were here - that you were here,” he said, the photogs already taking pictures.
Nick grinned and kissed the side of Charlie’s head. “Then we’ll have to send him a thank-you card,” said Nick. “This will be our first set of professional pictures together.”
Charlie’s eyebrows drew together in confusion before relaxing into a smile, his mouth looking eminently kissable. “I guess they will be.”
Nick pulled Charlie into an embrace with the flash of a few cameras around them, kissing the most perfect man in the world. A few weeks later, Imogen presented them with a framed copy of one of the photographs that had been taken and put in a small item in some of the London papers. Nick and Charlie had placed it on the mantle of their first flat together in Leeds. Oddly, they never received a response from the thank-you note they had sent to Ben, enclosed with another picture of them kissing on the side of the pitch after another Badgers match.
-
Slowly, Nick and Charlie figured out their new life together. Charlie started to bring his things up to Leeds, beginning with a few loads of clothes. They had been talking about how to move Charlie’s things up there when Nick suggested that maybe they keep Charlie’s flat in London so they had a place to stay when they went there to visit Charlie’s friends. Charlie had looked astonished, then recovered a little to say that it was too expensive. Nick had perhaps cheated a little and convinced Charlie that he’d cover it, using his powers of persuasion and the powers of his tongue, which had been developed by a steady diet of online advice and firm, dedicated practice.
Life in Leeds together was wonderful. It was probably easier for them than it might be for others as Nick and Charlie had already lived together and knew each other’s habits, preferences, and little annoyances. They had of course discovered a myriad more of each of those, but they figured out all the hiccups with humour, grace, and kindness. The flat they ended up renting was only a short walk from Amy’s and a quick drive to Danny and James’s, so many midweek nights and most weekends were filled with seeing the faces of people they loved.
Elle, Tao, Darcy, and Tara made it up several times over the course of the spring, coming for Leeds matches and to, “ascertain if Nick was providing an acceptable standard of living,” according to one unnamed cinephile. They gelled fantastically with the Badgers as always, everyone thrilled to see one another. Nick and Charlie also made it a point to spend as much time with them as they could in London, and Charlie popped down for a few weekends on his own, too, when Nick and the team travelled for matches further away. As for the Badgers, they had one of their best seasons of the last several years, rising to the top third of the table. Nick had no doubts that they would just keep improving, the team strong and close with one another.
One the Badger’s bye week during the season, Nick and Charlie had travelled down to Kent to meet Charlie’s family. He had been a bit nervous to meet Charlie’s parents - especially his mum - but Olly had been thrilled. Olly had nearly lost his mind when Charlie and Nick told him that they were dating, audibly gasping and then immediately asking if that meant Charlie would be able to get tickets to any Badgers matches. Charlie’s parents Jane and Julio had been (somewhat understandably) wary that Charlie and Nick were living together so soon, and Jane started off somewhat prickly. If Nick had one skill, though, it was charming middle-aged women, and he slowly wore her down with a steady stream of cooking compliments, listening to her complaints about her colleagues, and the attention he paid to Charlie. Not that that part was any challenge - Nick still adored the fact that he got to be with Charlie all the time now. Jane gave Nick a look reflecting a modicum of faint approval when they left, and he’d gotten a warm handshake from Julio. Tori had even given Nick a quiet, “Well done,” after the visit, which Nick knew was one of his greatest accomplishments in his thirty one years.
Charlie had even met David briefly on one of the team trips to London. The interaction had been a bit halting and awkward, but David hadn’t been a total arsehole, so that alone has exceeded Nick’s expectations. As had the fumbled hug-handshake combination that Charlie and David had engaged in, resulting with Charlie’s hand hovering dangerously close to David’s crotch and reducing Nick to giggles in the car.
They had an incredible few months in Leeds together, both with each other and the team. As the summer approached, they spoke more and more about Lavender Fields and all it had meant to them. Charlie would bring up Henry and Nellie, or Nick would wistfully tell Charlie about how gorgeous the fields looked when they bloomed. With the intense travel schedule they’d only managed one trip to the inn, the same week that they visited Charlie’s family in late April. It had been too early for the lavender, but that hadn’t mattered. It was something close to magic to be back at Lavender Fields, every inch of the place filled with memories for the two of them. The first time they had met. The first meal they had shared together, a vegetable scramble that Nick still liked to make at least once a week in Leeds. The first film they’d watched, the first time Charlie had stomped Nick at MarioKart, and the first time they’d held each others’ hands, both of them terrified and exhilarated. There were other firsts, too, but Nick often found himself drifting back to those innocent ones, the ones where they hadn’t known yet that they’d be each other’s forever.
Nick didn’t doubt that at all. Charlie was his forever, without question. He didn’t harbour any worries about Charlie feeling the same, either. Charlie made that clear to him every day with how he treated Nick and talked about their future.
The trip to Lavender Fields left both of them feeling like their souls had been filled, and Nick and Charlie talked endlessly in the car about their memories there. It had taken a few days before Charlie had approached Nick, shyly bringing up the bed and breakfast again.
“Nick,” Charlie had said, his eyes blue under the dark eyelashes. “What do you usually do in the summers between seasons?”
Nick considered. “It depends - some years I just lay low and hang around Leeds, others I’ve picked up some work if I’ve felt like it - you know, media appearances and camps and stuff like that. Travel, sometimes, too,” he said. “Though I’ve honestly done less of that since there’s so much travel during the season and I’m not a 22 year old who only needs a Red Bull and four hours’ sleep, you know?”
Charlie giggled and nodded, then looked at Nick again. “What would you think…” He trailed off for a minute, but when he spoke again the words were confident. They reflected what Charlie was thinking and what Charlie wanted. Nick loved that Charlie. “What do you think about us offering to run Lavender Fields for a month this summer? We could stay at the inn and give your mum a break - you know, I know she said she loved that trip that she did, but it sounded like it was a bit long. What if we ran it and she took a break? And who knows, if it did go well maybe we could do it each summer.” Charlie said, his eyes on Nick’s face. “What do…what do you think?”
Nick needed a moment, almost gaping at Charlie. Charlie squeaked when Nick rushed towards him, hoisting him into his arms in a bridal carry and throwing both of them onto the couch, Nick covering Charlie with kisses.
“Oh,” said Charlie distantly. “Do you…like that idea?”
Nick drew back enough to look at Charlie in the face. “You perfect, incredible man. You thoughtful, wonderful, incredible human. I love you, I love this idea, and I love the idea of spending the summer together back at Lavender Fields. Let’s call my mum now.”
“Now” had turned into approximately 38 minutes later, as “now” has been supplanted by an exchange of kisses in an ever-increasing intensity and morphing into vigorous, enthusiastically consensual exchanges.
Sarah was absolutely delighted when they finally did call and made the offer, exclaiming that a month off in the summer sounded perfect. Nick spoke over her when she started to muse about what she might do, going on a tangent about her friend Irving who might be interested in…
“Irving?” Charlie mouthed at Nick, his face beaming in deeply evil delight, muting their end of the call.
“I swear to you, Charlie, I will open the crumbliest cereal bar I can find on your side of the bed right before you want to go to sleep.”
Charlie snickered and then spoke into the phone again after unmuting, cheerfully offering suggestions for where Sarah and her friend might go.
Nick was so overjoyed the moment they’d pulled into Lavender Fields for their one-month stint. He had spoken to Sarah the day before, and she’d let him know that the lavender had burst into brilliance, the whole farm an expanse of rich, rippling, purple waves. Nick watched Charlie’s face as they pulled in, his entire being seeming to be transfixed by the shimmering, endless flowers. They got out of the car and without speaking, joined hands, walking to the edge of the field. Nick and Charlie stood there for a moment, the flowers gently waving in the breeze, indigo against a cloud-dappled sky.
“This is what it can be like…” said Charlie, shaking his head in wonder, his voice quiet. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is,” agreed Nick, moving to take Charlie in his arms and holding him from behind. “It can be so beautiful.”
-
That month at Lavender Fields had been one of the best of Nick’s life. He and Charlie were an incredible team, and now Nick preened when guests assumed they were married, rather than the first time it had happened and he’d nearly imploded in a puddle of smitten, melty overwhelm. The Badgers crew had visited of course, and Nick had promised to look into the “possible foxes mating?” sounds that had disturbed a few of the other guests, coming from a very specific bedroom.
The following year was just as wonderful. Charlie’s company did well, and the Badgers continued to rise in the table, attracting new talent and embarking on a positive feedback loop of getting better and better. Nick settled into his own, and James was an admirable captain. He had a certain Wilco-esque energy that had guided the Badgers for so many years, and combined with the other assistant captains, their changing room was supportive, safe, and funny.
That season was made even more fun and riotous as Danny and James planned for their wedding over its course. Their engagement had stretched out to over 18 months, due largely in part to Danny’s absolute delight at wedding planning. Nick and the other coaches had made a Danny board of every single idea he’d had about the wedding, and were planning on cutting out pictures to make it into a hopelessly confused mood board/time capsule as one of their wedding gifts to the couple. That collage would include pictures of white Arabian horses, one of those water jet pack backpacks so someone could “fly” over water, strawberries decorated to look like little tuxedos, and Stephen Fry.
Their wedding was going to be in the summer at the end of Nick’s first full season, which would be the only moment that summer that Nick and Charlie would step away from Lavender Fields, as they’d agreed that caretaking and giving Sarah a break would be yearly tradition. The wedding was in a stunning seaside venue on the Gold Coast of Australia, and Nick couldn’t wait. He and Charlie had taken many shorter trips around England and Europe, but this would be their first true long trip together. Nick knew from wry experience that sometimes long-haul international travel could be a make or break for a relationship, the logistics and change sometimes revealing any latent cracks that lingered underneath the surface, waiting to emerge.
Nick wasn’t afraid of that, though.
He wasn't afraid of anything when it came to life with Charlie.
Nick wasn’t afraid of hard conversations with family, with discussing his and Charlie’s future openly with Charlie’s parents and his own brother. He hadn’t been afraid when he and Charlie attended each other’s therapy sessions to better understand Charlie’s history with men and his body and Nick’s experiences with his dad and sexuality. Nick had never been afraid any time they encountered a bump in the road, knowing that they’d talk and feel it out together like they always had. Nick wasn’t afraid to face a new life, one where every decision was made in consideration with a partner, not just for himself. That felt like an opportunity rather than a burden, one that he loved and welcomed.
Nick wasn’t afraid when they’d found the shivering dog under the porch of Lavender Fields, naming her Elvira in a move that puzzled everyone else but delighted the two of them. He had no worries about adopting her with Charlie, because together, they provided a warm and loving home. They were home. He hadn’t been afraid when they’d eventually bought a house in Leeds, and Nick wasn’t afraid when the players he was closest to slowly retired from the Badgers, because life goes on and that was all right.
More than anything, Nick wasn’t afraid of how he felt about Charlie. He hadn’t been afraid when he’d bought that ring in town during the month they’d spent at Lavender Fields the first summer, completely sure of his and Charlie’s future. Nick also hadn’t been afraid to hold onto the ring for nearly a year, utterly secure and confident that they were forever, and the details of when he would propose were just that - details. He hadn’t been afraid at all that second summer in the swaying fields of lavender, down on one knee proposing to Charlie as Tao surreptitiously took pictures. He’d been a little surprised when Charlie had also had a ring, the two of them laughing and crying. Nick hadn’t been afraid at all, not about any of that. He had been very afraid when Danny and Darcy each respectively claimed Nick and Charlie’s stag dos, which had turned out to be merited.
Nick hadn’t been afraid when he and Charlie stood together in the lavender fields one summer after that, exchanging vows with Elvira gently wagging her tail and all of the people that they loved within a hundred feet of them.
Nick wasn’t afraid of anything. With Charlie - his Charlie - Nick could face the world.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Nick smiled gently at the woman - Anne, he repeated to himself - and offered to write down a few places that she and her wife might be interested in seeing around town.
“That would be lovely,” said Anne in her lilting voice. She and her wife were in their sixties and enjoying their retirement with a trip to Lavender Fields, the flowers fully in bloom. “Are there any stationary shops in town?”
“There are,” nodded Nick, grinning again as he remembered the cards he’d picked up for Charlie over the years, always centred on a pun. Charlie pretended to hate those cards, but Nick had found a shoebox of the cards stashed under his side of the bed, Charlie having saved every one. “I’ll add that to the list.”
Anne thanked him before excusing herself to go upstairs and Nick cleaned up the dining room a bit before returning to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the following day. He lifted his head up a few minutes later when he heard the familiar sound of tires on the crushed shells, a smile quirking his lips already. He and Charlie had been married for five years and Nick never got sick of greeting Charlie and seeing his gorgeous face, each and every time he walked back in the door.
Nick went to the porch and waited there, arms crossed against the cold. They’d taken over Lavender Fields for good just that year, Sarah finally ready to have some time just for herself. She’d bought a house just a few miles away, and was always offering to take Lavender Fields back over to give Nick and Charlie a rest, too. Granted, they ran it a bit differently from her, hiring a full-time cleaning crew to give themselves the time and space to pursue their other interests. Nick had started a remote rugby consultancy business and had also formed a small youth club in town, much to the delight of the local parents and kids. Charlie’s boutique publishing house had taken off and Charlie was in high demand, his services often requested by authors, agents, and marketing folks.
Charlie got out of his car and Nick felt his heart quicken like it always did when he saw the man he loved. Charlie grinned at Nick, and Nick tilted his head curiously. Charlie had that look about him, his face glowing in the magic way that it did whenever he had a lovely secret.
Nick smiled and opened his arms, Charlie cuddling into them. “What’s making you look especially smiley and beautiful today?”
Charlie drew back enough to kiss Nick and then pulled his rucksack (the one Nick had gotten him the previous Christmas) over his shoulder, hugging it to his chest.
“It’s here,” Charlie said, his dimples tucked in on his cheeks, his blue eyes sparkling.
“What is?” asked Nick, not sure what Charlie was on about.
“The book!” said Charlie, laughing with delight now.
“The book…” Nick said, his forehead wrinkling, until the lightbulb blinked on. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing at Charlie’s rucksack now.
Charlie grinned and pulled it back to his chest, not letting Nick have the bag. “Come on, let’s look at it inside together. I had them wrap it so I couldn’t peek at it without you and it’s killing me!” he said.
They hurried inside and stood next to each other in front of the dining room table. Charlie turned the book over in his hands before taking off the deep blue tissue paper almost reverently. Nick was torn between admiring Charlie’s beautiful hands and wanting to rip off the wrapping like a goddamn animal in giddy expectation. Finally, Charlie lifted the sheaf of tissue paper off of the front and both of them gasped.
“It’s…oh my god,” said Nick, his voice catching. He hovered his fingertips over the cover, almost afraid to touch it. It was too perfect to touch.
“Wow,” said Charlie, blinking up at Nick with wet eyes. “I can’t believe…”
“I know,” said Nick. “It’s amazing that it’s finally here. It’s finally done.”
“I just can’t believe it even happened,” said Charlie softly, touching the spine of the hardcover book.
“I can,” said Nick, turning his hand to cup Charlie’s cheek. “I can believe it happened. Because you are amazing,” Nick punctuated each sentence with a kiss to the side of Charlie’s head. “You are creative. You are endlessly talented. And you wrote a fucking novel, sweetChar-t.” He stared at Charlie, dazzled yet again that he was married to this man, even if he was rolling his eyes in fond exasperation at the moment. “You wrote a book!”
A slow smile spread across Charlie’s face. “I did,” he said quietly. “I did write a book.”
Nick finally reached down and touched the cover, marvelling at the colours and the richness of detail. He wasn’t surprised that this day had come, ever since the day Charlie had shyly approached him wanting to get his opinion about an idea that Charlie had. Charlie was fed up with heteronormativity in books, and wanted to see more queer romance stories. Not “kill your gays” style, just the same sweet fluffy romance novels that straight people had gotten to read for ages. Charlie had talked to several authors who all had ideas, though none of them seemed quite what he was looking for. So Charlie, who was a wonderful writer - Nick loved reading anything he wrote - wanted to know what Nick thought of Charlie writing a story.
Their story.
It would be fictionalised of course, Charlie told him, but Nick had barely listened. The idea that Charlie, his Charlie, his brilliant Charlie - that Charlie - was interested in writing a book…Nick didn’t think the world knew how lucky it was to get to touch something that Charlie Spring created. Charlie had worked for months, Nick pitching in with small additions and suggestions, both of them pulling back into their memories for details to add into the story, though all of it was changed. The book had so many touches of them while different enough to not feel voyeuristic, and Nick had read the manuscript over and over while they waited to receive the print edition.
Seeing it now, final and bound, Nick’s heart ached with fondness and love. He gently took the book from the table and took Charlie’s hand, leading them to the fireplace in the upstairs living room, the one where they’d spend endless nights cuddled watching a film, talking, and just generally being in love with each other. Nick placed the book in the middle of the mantle on the space that he’d cleared weeks ago, the gentle yellow glow of the fire casting warm light on the front of the book, the embossed gold letters glimmering.
More: A Love Story
By Charles Nelson-Spring
Charlie stood in front of the mantle, staring at the book with his hands clasped together as his heart, the firelight catching the gold of his wedding ring. Nick moved to stand behind Charlie, wrapping his arms around the love of his life. He smiled and put his lips next to Charlie’s ear, the two of them gently swaying. They had found a Vanessa Carlton song (a bisexual icon, Nick had discovered from an enthusiastic endorsement from Danny) during their own wedding planning when Jane had been particularly on her shit trying to get them to do a ton of traditional things neither of them had interest in. Nick whisper-sang a few of the lines as they swayed, bodies close and warm.
Nick could hear the emotion in Charlie’s voice as they swayed. “It’s amazing.”
Nick kissed the side of Charlie’s head, pressing his lips into the curls. “It is,” he agreed.
Our last names on a wooden sign
Arm in arm, where the river starts to wind
Forever by your side
They’d worked hard to create the life they had, one steeped so deeply in love the flavour would never dull. It was a life surrounded by flowers and centred on love - friends, family, and each other. This was his life. This was his life forever. A life with Charlie Spring? Nick couldn’t imagine anything else. He sang the final few verses to Charlie, Charlie’s breath hitching as he took in this magic he’d created from the love and life they’d created. There was nothing more beautiful than that.
We will live like kings
Under lavender skies, skies
We will live like kings
Under lavender skies, skies
… Built a poem, we kept a rhyme
Wrapped our love in golden twine
We wrote, we wrote a legacy
… Just you and me
Just you and me
Just like kings under lavender
Skies, skies
We will
-
“More” was the theme of Nick and Charlie’s life. Together, there was more laughter, more love. More friends and families now combined together. They were more of themselves. They had more years of blossoming lavender, more guests. Everything with Charlie was just…more.
Nick would find himself leaning on the fence of the barn patting the cows (and horses, eventually, Nick and Charlie rescuing a pair from the next county), when he’d reflect on this life that they’d built together. It was a life steeped in the richness of colour, connection, and love. Every year when the lavender first bloomed, Nick marvelled at it, his eyes sweeping over the purple fields, shimmering and beckoning. That was why people loved planting flowers, Nick mused one year, working in the lavender. Yes, they changed with the seasons and went through fallow and brilliant periods, never immutable. But the roots were always there, grounding and firm. Given attention and care, the flowers would always open again. Nick and Charlie’s life had seasons, just like the flowers - moments of quietness and dormancy, always bracketed by vibrant liveliness. No matter what changed around them, within or outside Lavender Fields, there was a comforting sense of peace and contentment, one that could never be shifted, knowing that life and love would always bloom there.
When it came time to replace the wooden sign on the front of the inn a few years later, Nick and Charlie had first planned on putting up an identical one, just painted fresh. But after they considered it, they decided to make it their own, reflecting their lives and the farm in the new sign. Nick carefully hung the sign on the hook and stepped back. The sign swayed gently in the soft breeze, the gold letters exactly matching the embossed font of Charlie’s book cover.
Lavender Fields Forever
Nick smiled at the new addition and moved to stand next to Charlie again, Charlie taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. They both looked at the sign, the gold gleaming bright against the white.
“What do you think?” Nick asked with a smile, giving Charlie’s hand a squeeze.
Charlie pretended to consider. “I mean, ‘forever’?” he said. “I’m still on the fence about you, I still think we should have gone for ‘Lavender Fields For Nowsies.”
Nick laughed. He’d laughed so much the last decade, ever since he and Charlie had met. “Too many letters. Too expensive.”
“Trying to cut corners again,” muttered Charlie, his jest belied by his sparkling eyes and the way he tucked closer to Nick’s body. He dropped the charade and let his hand drift up to the back of Nick’s neck, massaging into the muscle. “I love it.”
“I do, too,” said Nick, his heart feeling so full. Lavender Fields had been officially theirs for several years, but now it felt like it was really theirs, the sign a reflection of them. Their future. Their forever.
Charlie sighed happily and moved again, turning to embrace Nick. “It’s really perfect,” Charlie said, cheek pressed against Nick’s chest.
Nick didn’t know if he meant the sign, the inn, or the life they’d made. It didn’t matter, though. Because it was. “It is,” he agreed. “It’s all perfect.”
Notes:
What’s next? There will be several epilogues for this story and I am really excited to explore what those will look like (I think you will like the direction they go ♥️). Other coming pieces include a very silly one-shot that I’ve had in my head for ages, the final RSW epilogue, and the next longer work, set in the RSW/LF world. I can’t wait to tell all of these stories - though for now, it is time for some rest.
You are enough, there is enough, and you deserve enough.
You also deserve my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe, which must be eaten warm.
½ c butter
¼ c peanut butter
¼ c applesauce
[Note: You can do 1 c butter instead of the peanut butter & applesauce, but I love the texture and taste when you do the combination of all three]
1 c white sugar
1 c packed light brown sugar
2 tsp vanilla
Dash of lemon juice
2 eggs
3 c flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 c chocolate chips (don’t skimp, LF Nick would be sad)Preheat the oven to 350.
Beat together the butter, peanut butter, and applesauce with the white and brown sugars until light and creamy. Add in the eggs, one at a time, beating until well-incorporated. Add the vanilla, mixing well. Add a tiny dash of lemon juice.
In a bowl, mix the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and mix until combined. Stir in the chocolate chips.
Drop spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a parchment-paper lined sheet. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until they are just starting to brown. In theory, wait 2 minutes until you move them to a cooling rack, but let’s be honest, I’m not waiting that long and am instead moving a molten cookie to a plate and then eating it hunched over the counter like a sugar-crazed rat. But a classy one, you know? And yes, that sentiment is now officially how the main story of Lavender Fields ends.
Chapter 32: Charlie's POV: Guests & C. Spring
Summary:
An epilogue featuring Charlie's POV: Charlie arrives at Lavender Fields, heartbroken and lost. And fuck if the innkeeper isn’t the fittest man he’s ever met.
Notes:
Yes, the epilogues will be a Charlie POV! This will dip in and out of the LF story. We won’t see it all from Charlie’s POV (because that would kill me, I think?) but we’ll learn more about Charlie’s brain and experiences throughout the story. This installment correlates to Chapter 1: Guests and Chapter 2: C. Spring. Cw for implied emotional abuse.
[🤡← A real picture of me extremely soon, writing way more than I had originally planned.]
A massive thank you as always to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, the most brilliant betas a bisexual bitch has ever begotten. (Is begotten the right word there? No, but I liked the alliteration.) They have both given me so much!
Another lovely friend who has given me some tremendous gifts (plus the best gift of their friendship, which is truly delightful) is ImBackHereAgain, the author of Tea Leaves and Bent Pages as well as a devoted hater of puns (that I love to lob at them). They made two fucking fantastic pictures for Lavender Fields - one where Nick and Charlie meet, and one from the final chapter of the story. I love you, ImBackHereAgain!
I wrote another story recently, a one-shot of Charlie's first date with the gooberiest Ben ever. You'll NEVER GUESS who Charlie meets along the way. You can find First Date Magic here.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Guests
Charlie's Point of View
Something was rattling in Charlie’s car.
That shouldn’t have bothered him so much. Not right now. What should have been bothering him was the fact that his life was ripping apart, literally tearing at the seams and spilling out its contents. Including Charlie. But as he drove in silence, the rattle seemed to root in his brain, digging a claw in and twisting. Charlie shoved his hand against one of the heat vents, but that didn’t make it stop. He touched the little part that stored his sunnies, the door, the rarely-used and outdated CD player, the interior light, but nothing changed. He could still hear it, and it wouldn’t stop.
Fine, he thought miserably, driving in silence. Be like that. I’ll just focus on you. It’ll be like meditation, but instead of listening to my breath, I’ll listen to my personal hell.
Charlie was alone. He was so, so alone. He was alone in the car, he was alone in his flat, he was alone in life.
Charlie didn’t want to be alone.
He was absolutely gutted, lower than he had ever felt. Charlie felt the tug of sickness in his chest, pulling him back to the dark recesses of his mind. Even that fucking rattle couldn’t distract him. Charlie was feeling a mixture of things, each one with its own host of ruminations and twisting, ugly feelings in his body. There was despair, deep and aching, a sucking black mud that Charlie pulled Charlie in and would never let him go. It pulled him down every second of the drive, the lovely countryside feeling like a painted backdrop. Nothing was real. Nothing felt real at least.
The despair felt all-encompassing, but if Charlie reached past that suffocating well, there were more surprises buried. It was like digging for treasure, but instead of gold, the reward was finding even more shit. Underneath, there was loneliness, that bone-deep loneliness of feeling so alone. Yes, Charlie had friends. Yes, he had his family (which was a mixed bag). But Charlie felt so utterly adrift, like he was entirely unmoored. Charlie felt like he was an unreachable island, where maybe other people would visit but would never stay. The loneliness was a cold chill under the despair, making Charlie shiver despite the heat he had blasting in his car.
And there was more there, too. There was a heat that Charlie could feel, something bubbling in his chest under the layers. Anger, maybe? Charlie didn’t know what to do with that. He’d felt tugs of that same heat for the last three years, but pressed it down. Ben brought enough heat into the relationship, Charlie could make things easier by stamping that out, before it even started. But there was something else that Charlie could clearly identify. Shame. Oh, the shame he felt. He fully wondered what people were saying about him, couples heads’ tilted together in their homes and flats, reading the brief email.
We wanted to inform you that the wedding of Benjamin Hope and Charles Spring has been cancelled. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause. We appreciate your kindness in RSVPing to celebrate with us and appreciate your presence in our lives.
“We”. The email said “we” in every sentence. There was no we. There was just Charlie. Ben was gone, literally out of the country. Ben hadn’t written the email, Charlie had. Charlie had numbly BCCed all of the guests, CCing Ben. It was amazing how typing an email address into a CC field had felt so final. Charlie suggested early on that they make an email specifically for the wedding so that they could share the account, but Ben had scoffed at that, saying that it was unnecessary and that he couldn’t be arsed to have yet another Gmail account. So Charlie had managed all of the emails, his “sent” folder an endless stream of forwards to Ben. He’d forward something to Ben and Ben would reply back, and then Charlie would respond to the email incorporating whatever Ben had said. Ben didn’t want to be CCed on many of the wedding emails, which Charlie had understood. Ben worked in finance and his inbox was always bursting, so Charlie got it. Still…
It had been hard. The wedding planning had been hard. It - no. Charlie didn’t want to dwell on that right now. He didn’t want to flood his brain with what happened over the last few days, legitimately worried that if he did, his breath would catch in his chest, his hands would start to sweat, and he’d have to pull over. Charlie just wanted to get there. There being that inn that Charlie had booked for their honeymoon. The honeymoon that Charlie was going on alone now. That was something that happened in a comedy show for a cheap laugh. It wasn’t real. And oh, there was the shame again, tugging and curling his fingers in his stomach, making his body cold.
Charlie had always had a brilliant imagination, which served him in immersing himself in the stories he was editing. Unfortunately, the darker edge of that was how his brain delighted in imagining what people were saying, what might happen, what horrific possibilities might hide in wait around a corner. It felt protective, Charlie had discussed with a therapist, a way of exercising control, or at least trying to invent a semblance of control. Now his imagination spun on, picturing what his family and friends were saying. He could imagine the look on his grandmother’s face as she read the email, immediately ringing his mum. God, Charlie felt sick thinking of that, of his mum’s acidic, scandalised tone, laced with mortification. He wondered what she was saying to his father, to Olly. Charlie guessed that the only person she wasn’t whispering to was Tori, as his sister would have simply hung up the phone. That thought gave Charlie a tiny nudge of warmth, quickly extinguished by the despair and shame welling up and threatening to smother him again.
Charlie approached another intersection and glanced at his phone to numbly follow the directions, willfully ignoring the message banner that rolled down even just in that second he looked at the screen. Charlie knew that he had endless missed calls. There had been dozens from Elle and Tao. Darcy and Tara had tried to get in touch, too, as had several others. Tori had called, and Olly as well. Charlie had ignored all of them. He didn’t trust himself to speak without dissolving into tears, and that had been the right call. Charlie had sobbed through the first half of the drive; deep, wracking cries that had left his eyes stinging and his body exhausted. The grief hadn’t subsided but the tears had, leaving Charlie this empty, numb shell.
Charlie had scrolled through his phone when he stopped for petrol, not actually reading anything, just looking at names. So many messages and calls and emails from his friends, some from his family, including many from his dad. None from Ben, though. While Charlie didn’t truly expect Ben to call (and really didn’t want to talk to him at the moment), it still hurt. There was a piece of Charlie - a huge one, if he was being honest - that had held on hope that Ben would call and confess how terrible he had been the day before, how cruel and unkind and wrong he was. Charlie knew that was pure fantasy, though. Admission of guilt or wrongdoing from Ben were begrudging and small and accusatory, always laced with edges of blame. Another part of Charlie wanted Ben to call and just ask how he was, how Charlie was. Or speak to him at all.
And that was it, wasn’t it? For years, Ben had given him crumbs, tiny things. Charlie had craved those scraps, the tiny castoffs of affection and kindness that made Charlie know those emotions were inside Ben - that Charlie could earn them if he just worked a little harder, made Ben a little happier. He had always wanted those crumbs, even if they sometimes felt poisoned.
Charlie sighed as he took the final right turn onto Newbury Road. It had been raining for the last hour, which felt cruelly appropriate. He drove slowly, the headlamps illuminating the road, which seemed unreasonably dark. Charlie supposed it was a result of living in London, with lights all around - true country nighttime was in fact dark. Charlie saw the glow of the inn before he saw the place itself, a spot of light that flickered and danced behind the raindrops until it drew closer, the features of the house coming into view.
Even on a raining, terrible night like this the place looked warm and welcoming. As Charlie pulled into the drive, he heard his tires rolling over the crushed seashells and felt an odd stab of comfort. The sound reminded him of simpler times, of the family vehicle pulling into the carpark by the sea, Charlie and Tori spilling out and exclaiming when they saw the water. Or of wandering Sunday afternoon trips with Elle, Tao, Tara, and Darcy - the five of them ending up in a seaside chips shop, eating and laughing.
Ben had never gone on one of those trips with them.
Charlie pulled himself back from the memories threatening to overwhelm him, parking and taking in the sight of the house. It was large and white, a neatly lettered sign on the front. It swung a little in the lamplight by the front of the house: Lavender Fields. It looked different in the rain and at night, but it was still the place that Charlie had fallen in love with online. Charlie remembered that the property was large, spanning across the road and down the hill. Even though the property was dark, Charlie could see the roof of the barn from across the street, set low on the hill.
Charlie turned the engine off and heard the rain thrumming on the car and on the roof of the large porch. He could see chairs and plants on the porch and Charlie’s heart ached. He’d stupidly imagined himself and Ben sitting on that porch drinking coffee and tea. That would never happen now. It would just be Charlie. What was he supposed to do? Sit silently in a chair by himself? Oh, god. Charlie felt a stab of panic. Why was he here? This was a bed and breakfast. Charlie would come down to the communal breakfast table - alone - and then eat - alone - and then go back to his room. He had no one to go sightseeing with, no one to lay in bed with, no one to even watch a film with. He would be alone.
God, this was going to be so embarrassing. Charlie’s eyes burned again, thinking of how he would have to explain to the woman who owned the inn why it was just him. His heart sped up and Charlie hunched in the driver’s seat, gripping his hair with his hands. It was going to be utterly humiliating. So far the humiliation had been from afar, confined to his imagination and the conversations he knew people were having about him. Now he’d have to say it out loud, tell a stranger that he was the type of person who got walked out on. Charlie was the person who got left at the altar, essentially. Charlie was pathetic enough to have his wedding called off the night before. And he was here on his honeymoon alone.
Well, I can’t hate myself more than I already do, Charlie thought grimly. He remembered how kind the innkeeper looked, and that made Charlie feel at least marginally better. He recalled in particular how warm her eyes looked, something that Charlie could still picture from her photo on the website. Charlie hoped that the bed and breakfast would be totally full and he’d be able to sneak beneath the radar, though the utter lack of other cars had his stomach squirming. Charlie had no idea what he was going to do alone for a week in the south of England at a bed and breakfast. But the idea of staying home, at his and Ben’s flat - Charlie had contemplated the reality of that the previous night, turning over in bed hundreds of times. Throughout the sleepless hours he’d thought about laying in that same bed for another week, laying in the cold bed that he had shared with Ben. Charlie couldn’t do that - he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t stare at their walls for another week. I’ll just stare at different walls, Charlie thought morosely.
Charlie heaved a sigh and went to get his things. Of course the suitcase was caught in the backseat from where Charlie had heaved it in, and of course he forgot his rucksack in the passenger seat, so he was absolutely soaked in the minute or so it took for him to get his things. He walked slowly up the stairs, the luggage in his hand and sadness in his soul making him feel like he weighed a hundred stone.
Charlie paused at the door, momentarily stymied. What the fuck was the etiquette for entering a bed and breakfast? Charlie couldn’t imagine that you were supposed to knock every time, but still, he hadn’t gone in yet. He had to knock, right? Charlie hesitated, his knuckles poised near the door. Something inside smelled delicious. Charlie was entirely not hungry - in fact, he hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, which added a layer of guilt to the miasma of feelings in his chest - but still, something smelled incredible.
It must be the woman I saw who owns this place, the website said that she makes all the food for the inn, Charlie thought, steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation with his own failures when he explained why he was alone. He hoped she’d be as kind as her photograph depicted her to be. He took a deep breath and knocked, feeling a wave of emotion swell up as he zoomed out on his life and saw himself, Charlie Spring, alone on what was supposed to be his honeymoon.
And then the door opened and Charlie saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his entire life.
Well, fuck.
Chapter 2: C. Spring
Charlie's Point of View
God, Charlie was such a fucking disaster. He’d been incredibly awkward with the kind, fucking unrealistically gorgeous man who’d answered the door, stammering out that it was just Charlie and that his engagement had ended before the wedding. Charlie had even cried. The poor innkeeper man. Nick, Charlie had heard him say. Nick Nelson.
Nick showed Charlie round the house, at least downstairs. Charlie caught a quick glimpse of the warm, honey-toned dining room (with only two place settings, which was dismaying) and the parlour. They’d seemed to be on their way to a room when Nick said that something was broken in it, but Charlie had been too addled to fully know what Nick had meant. Nick had shown him upstairs to where he was now, laying on the bed, his eyes distantly facing toward the fields. The lavender fields. Those had been what attracted Charlie to this place. He had been looking for a place for him and Ben to spend some time after the wedding.
Ben had been stressed with the wedding, sharp and snappish. Charlie had understood it. Ben was busy at work, and he’d never been as into the idea of a wedding as Charlie was. Well, at first, at least. Ben didn’t seem to like to do the first steps of any planning himself - finding venues and caterers and vendors. He did like to give feedback once Charlie had found a place or person, critiquing their work or the decor or something like that. It had helped Charlie refine his searches, and Ben had started interjecting more details and opinions as the wedding had gotten closer. Charlie had been on eggshells for the weeks before, unsure what was going to upset Ben.
Charlie knew they both needed some time away after, doing as little as possible. Ben was always complaining that their weekends were too busy and all he wanted to do was relax. Charlie booked Lavender Fields as a surprise for Ben, and though Ben had been irritated initially (seriously, Charlie? What the fuck are we supposed to do there, act like pensioners?), he’d warmed to it once he saw the pictures. Of course, Ben had been annoyed again when Charlie pointed out nervously that the lavender of course wouldn’t be in bloom when they were there. By that point, it had been too late to change the reservation, and Ben had told Charlie that he’d better think of some excursions to keep them from getting too bored.
Charlie’s eyes stared blankly out at the fields that lay in the darkness beyond his window. It had to be two or three in the morning by now, the rain finally stopped. Charlie could see the sway of slender branches outside the glass, almost hypnotic in their movements. Or maybe that was just Charlie’s exhaustion. He was so, so tired. Charlie hadn’t slept much in the weeks before the wedding, and now the last few days…well, Charlie hadn’t slept at all the night before. Every time he closed his eyes, Charlie heard Ben’s voice.
You’re so fucking needy…
This is about me, too, Charlie.
You want too much, god.
And of course,
Calm down, Charlie, it’s not that big of a deal.
There was that heat again, the metallic edge of anger that Charlie could taste. Ben said that to him all the time, whenever Charlie was upset that they didn’t spend more time with Charlie’s friends. Or when Charlie asked for Ben to sit with him and be with him during dinner, not on his phone. It was what he said when Charlie pressed for something he wanted from the wedding, like insisting that his fucking brother be in their wedding pictures. God, there was another swoop of anger. That had been one of the rare moments that Charlie had stood his ground with Ben, insisted on what he wanted. And Charlie had paid for it, of course. Had paid with a cancelled wedding and an empty flat. Though Charlie had a part in that, as well. As hurt as Charlie was, as lonely as he felt, there was a tiny seed of relief. A tiny piece of him felt like it ungripped, relaxing for the first time as he imagined a future without Ben.
Because Ben said that all the fucking time to him. Calm down, Charlie, it’s not that big of a deal. If it wasn’t that big of a deal, why did Ben make it a big deal? Why would Ben insist they do things his way, if they weren’t that big of a deal? Charlie had bitten back that retort so many times. There was the searing shame again, that Charlie had swallowed back so many things for so long. It sat uncomfortably with the relief about not being with Ben. How stupid was Charlie to be with someone who was like that? How utterly pathetic was Charlie to be mourning the end of his relationship with that kind of person? Charlie had cut off so many parts of himself to fit in the box that Ben expected and it still hadn’t worked. Charlie was still alone.
God, he was so alone.
-
Charlie woke up just before noon after finally catching a few fitful hours of sleep. He was confused at first about where he was, turning on his side to see unfamiliar furniture. Charlie blinked, trying to remember where he was. Yes. The inn. Lavender Fields. Which was apparently run by the most attractive man ever created. Fuck, Charlie probably had to go downstairs at some point. There was a loo attached to his room, so in theory, Charlie could have stayed upstairs for a week straight, except he needed to eat. God. If Tori or Elle were here, they’d be quietly saying that to him.
You need to eat, Charlie.
I know you don’t want to, but you need to eat.
He lay in bed for a while staring at the ceiling before using the toilet and washing his face. Charlie knew that he should go downstairs - he was sure he’d already shattered convention by skipping the “breakfast” part of the bed and breakfast - but he felt that same sense of shrivelling embarrassment. Who goes to a bed and breakfast alone? Charlie thought to himself. He couldn’t see the car park from the direction his window faced, but Charlie hadn’t heard any voices. It was probably just him and the human version of the sun. Nick. That was his name. He thought about going downstairs, but it seemed like too much. He got back in bed.
Charlie heard his phone buzz over and over and scrolled through his notifications. The same people from yesterday, a few more. Charlie couldn’t stand to look in his email and see politely incredulous replies back from his family and acquaintances, passive aggressively searching for more information and gossip about why the wedding was cancelled. There would be a host of apologetic emails from vendors, too, sorry that they couldn’t refund any portion of what had been paid as the cancellation was so close to the date.
Charlie did look through his messages (none from Ben, and no calls, either), sending a quick Whatsapp to Elle, Tao, Darcy, and Tara, telling them that he was safe and at Lavender Fields, then silencing his notifications. He could see even as he did that Elle was already trying to call, which Charlie silenced. He just…he couldn’t. Not right now.
By the midafternoon, Charlie felt the weight of social decorum and hunger pressing on him. He sighed as he got up, changing his clothes and putting on the most comforting jumper he brought with him, one that was both tight and soft. It felt like a modicum of comfort, like a hug that he so desperately wanted right now. Charlie tried to go down the stairs quietly, but they groaned, almost obscenely. Jesus, thought Charlie. No sneaking anyone in and out of this place. Charlie went downstairs, this time appreciating a bit more of the house. He went past the apparently broken bedroom at the landing on the bottom of the stairs, wondering idly what was wrong with it. Charlie made his way through the parlour, recalling some of the words that the hot, friendly man had said the previous evening. Charlie thought he remembered something about a mummified squirrel, but that didn’t seem right.
Charlie took a deep breath before going into the dining room, the space looking cheery and in such contrast to how Charlie felt that he was momentarily dizzy. He turned when Nick came in from the kitchen, greeting him in a warm tone and asking if he wanted tea or coffee.
“What are you feeling today?” the perfect man asked, and Charlie felt himself dissolve inside. Devastated. Pathetic. Lost. When Nick spoke again, it seemed a little faster, with some concern behind the words. “I mean, as in - what are you feeling like you want to eat today?”
Charlie was hungry. He was. But now he was confronted by another swath of memories about Ben. He remembered the tiny huffs of annoyance when Ben suggested a restaurant and Charlie hesitated even for a fraction of a second. Fine, we’ll just go wherever you want, Ben would say. You’re so picky, god Charlie. Charlie was always inconveniencing Ben. Now he’d inconvenience this other man. This offensively beautiful man. “Oh. I’m not…I’m not hungry.”
The perfect man smiled, and it was the best thing that Charlie had seen in days, his cheek tugging up on one side. “Charlie, this is a bed and breakfast. I’ve only given you a bed. If I don’t give you breakfast…what am I supposed to market myself as? A bed and…chair?”
Oh, so Nick was funny, too. Funny and fit. That was…terrible. “Well, I missed breakfast. So if anything this would be a bed and chair and snack.”
“It doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?” said Nick, with that same half-hitched grin before fetching Charlie his coffee, bringing two insulated containers with him. They were both neatly labelled, one as cream and one as oat milk. What a tiny detail to include, but one that Charlie appreciated.
Nick offered him food again and Charlie hesitated, chest and stomach roiling with the memories of Ben. The rebukes from Ben were rarely loud. There wasn’t yelling. There were just tiny cuts, judgemental asides and heavy sighs of annoyance. Charlie didn’t want to do the same to this man. But Nick was insisting, and he seemed kind. His eyes seemed just as warm as the woman’s on the website, his mother’s. Charlie took a breath. “I’m a little…I don’t want to be…” He trailed off.
Nick tilted his head. “Seriously, I’m going to make something for myself, too. And I’m not fussed; I’ll eat anything. What types of things do you like?” Charlie hemmed for a bit and Nick kept cheerfully pushing even when Charlie hinted at how needy and annoying he was, finally snapping his fingers, his face lighting up. “It’s a little cold today, I love a scramble on a day like this. What about a veg and tofu scramble?”
Charlie was surprised. This man looked like a bit of a lad’s lad, with massive arms and a broad chest that Charlie was trying very hard to not fixate on. “You know how to make something like that?”
“Of course,” said Nick, nodding. “We get a ton of dietary needs here; I’ve learned how to adjust to loads of eating habits. Vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free…”
“Paleo,” muttered Charlie, gripping his coffee cup tightly. Paleo. Ben had seized onto the low-carb movement from the beginning and still followed it, he and all of the other members of his crossfit gym. That particular gym had a lot of gay men in it and the body comparisons and boasting of six-packs was endless. Charlie had adjusted what he cooked and how he grocery shopped. He stopped eating bread while at home, despite loving simple toast in the morning, knowing Ben would say something about Charlie not getting the definition that he was looking for. He was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly didn’t notice what Nick was muttering, about how grains had been part of human history forever and people doing Paleo seemed to ignore that part when they talked about their evolutionary superiority.
Charlie snorted, broken out of his misery with a tiny flicker of interest. “They have?”
Nick flushed, then seemed to brighten, nodding. “Oh, yeah. The whole idea that there was one Paleo diet is bunk, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” said Charlie wryly. “Ancient diets entirely depended on where early people lived and the seasons and their climates.”
“Right!” said Nick enthusiastically, kicking off a quick back and forth about how a diet that was based on a people who died at 35 from a toothache perhaps wasn’t modelled on the paragon of health. Then Charlie ruined it by ruminating on how Ben would drink wine and still claim to be Paleo. Charlie had never brought it up. Poor Nick had to pick up the conversational slack, offering to share the scramble recipe with Charlie.
Charlie followed Nick to the kitchen where Nick started preparing breakfast, chattering away and pointing out things about the property and the kitchen. He just seemed kind. Poor Nick. Here was a lovely, personable (and fucking gorgeous ) man, stuck with Charlie, whose brain still felt like it was made out of oats, loose and bland. Nick made a spice mix that smelled amazing and Charlie pulled out his phone to record the spices that Nick had made. His heart stuttered in his chest when he saw the message that had come through, Ben apparently having used “Notify Anyway” even with Charlie’s Do Not Disturb on.
Ben ♥️: Hey
Hey. Hey? What the fuck? What was Charlie supposed to do with that? Hey didn’t tell Charlie where the fuck Ben was right now. Hey didn’t ask if Charlie was okay. Hey wasn’t an apology, a question, or even reaching out. It was an expectation that Charlie would respond, that Charlie would carry the conversation. He tightened his mouth and opened his Notes app instead, ignoring the message for now. Nick seemed to pause before going back into his cheery chatter, telling Charlie all about where they got the eggs for the farm - he and his mum. Charlie wondered if Nick was here often. Maybe he and his wife worked the inn when his mum was away. Or girlfriend - Charlie didn’t see a ring on those thick, callused hands. Charlie wondered what Nick did with those hands. For work, he meant. He wondered what Nick did for fulltime work. Maybe a firefighter, he mused, glancing at Nick’s massive arm when he reached for a plate. Chopping down things and carrying hoses. Arms like that…
He was interrupted when Nick told him to sit, numbly following Nick’s directions. Nick put down the plate in front of Charlie and then excused himself. “Are you…are you eating?” Charlie asked, not sure of what it looked like for an innkeeper to eat with their customers. That was probably weird, wasn’t it?
“I probably will in a bit, yeah.” Yeah, it was weird. Charlie would eat alone. He’d be fine eating alone. He’d be eating alone for a while. Forever, maybe. Nick grinned when Charlie complimented his cooking - the food was so good. Maybe I’m seeing the early form of Santa, Charlie mused to himself. The young, fit Santa who was kind and cheerful and made delicious food in a little adorable workshop before he got old and shifted to toys. Nick seemed so…nice. Like, just…nice. Charlie knew there were far better words to describe him, but that fit. He seemed like a good person. Patient. Ben had never been patient. That was the most stressful thing - that Charlie knew he could make Ben happy. He had, sometimes. That was why it was so frustrating when he made Ben unhappy. It meant that Charlie had fucked it up. He could have done better.
And now here he was.
“Charlie?”
Charlie jumped. Nick Nelson was there again, his glowing face poking round the corner. “D’you want a tour of the farm?”
“Oh,” said Charlie. He hadn’t been outside all day, and he was curious to see what Lavender Fields looked like in the daylight. That sounded lovely, but he was wary of imposing on Nick. Fuck, he already had imposed on Nick with this late breakfast. “I - sure. Yes, as long as that’s not annoying for you?”
Nick grinned, and it made Charlie’s chest ache. “I asked you,” he said, implying that Charlie was being a bit silly.
Charlie felt the tiniest nudge of happiness. “What should I - should I change?” He looked down at himself, not really knowing what was appropriate for a farm tour.
Nick smiled again. “Definitely. Wear something you don’t mind getting a little furry.”
Um, what? Did this place have, like…chinchillas? Charlie was sure there were other furry things, but that was the only one he could picture right now. “…Furry?”
Nick grinned. “You’ll see.”
Charlie changed and then met Nick downstairs, feeling another small blush of something other than despair as they each pulled on a jacket, Nick talking away again and explaining things about the farm. Nick pointed things out as they walked around, gesturing to the duck pond and showing Charlie a terribly-dangerous looking “pier” that he said he and his rugby friends had tried to build one year out of two by fours. “I don’t think anyone would carry the insurance to walk on that, though, so stay away,” Nick laughed. Rugby lads, Charlie mused. Maybe Nick had played uni rugby? That would explain the massive shoulders and quads, the ones that strained against his old jeans, even when Charlie was very much not trying to look.
Nick showed him the fallow lavender fields and the lavender shed, Charlie inhaling the deep, floral scent. Nick pointed out the irrigation system and Charlie detected a hint of pride in his voice as Nick told him about the repairs and improvements he’d made. Charlie was genuinely interested, and not just because Nick was essentially perfection in human form. He asked questions and Nick answered them, the answers often leading him on tangents, explaining another aspect of the inn to Charlie.
They eventually made their way to the barn, Nick telling him the history of it. He pointed out the hayloft, too, with an open door where Charlie guessed the hay could be shoved out. It didn’t look like old hay or something there just for decoration, but fresh and bright. Well, Charlie guessed that it was fresh. He had no real clue about any of this. “What’s the hay for?” he asked, pointing up.
Nick gave Charlie a smile that made his whole chest feel warm and pointed down the hill. They walked to the far side of the barn, which was built into a slope. When they arrived on the far side of the barn, Charlie saw the gated paddock. “What’s in there?” he asked, unsure what type of thing was at this place that needed to be fenced off.
“Tigers,” said Nick immediately. Charlie choked on a half a laugh, surprising himself. Nick grinned. “Just kidding. Snakes.”
Oh, great, the perfect man being funny wasn’t just a fluke the first time. That was just great. They joked around a bit, Nick telling a truly awful pun that Charlie pretended to hate. Nick seemed like one of those people who made others comfortable right away. Charlie knew that this was something that Nick probably did with every person at Lavender Fields, but it felt like it was something just for him. It made him feel a little less alone in the world, even for a moment. Charlie followed Nick to the paddock, ears perking at the sound of heavy thuds coming towards them.
Nick smiled the perfect smile that he had. “Charlie, I want you to meet Nellie and Henry.”
Charlie could feel how wide his eyes were as two enormous cows ambled up. He was about to ask Nick if they were safe when one of them started rubbing her go-kart sized head on him, leaving tiny paths of drool and massive swaths of white hair. Charlie didn’t know if he was supposed to pet her or only have her…pet him? Nick was laughing and grinning and telling the cow - Nellie - that she should buy Charlie dinner first.
Charlie laughed out loud at that, in what felt like the first time in weeks. God, she was just so gentle and cute. And she made him think of Olly. “Oh my god, she’s adorable!” Charlie said, nervously reaching out to pat her.
“Go on, you can give her a pat,” encouraged Nick. “She loves getting her ears scratched. Oh, and gentle scratches around her eyes, too, she loves that.”
Charlie cooed and patted her and the other cow while he and Nick chatted. Nick told him about where the cows came from, and Charlie listened as he thought of Olly. Olly would love them. He wanted to be a large animal veterinarian and would die to hear that Charlie was patting cows today. His amazing, sweet, anxious brother. The brother that Ben had tried to exclude. His stomach twisted in another sear of heat and he consciously breathed to bring himself back. Nick was saying something about the other cow’s name. Henry. Henry? That didn’t seem right.
Charlie looked at Nick suspiciously, and then under Henry, tilting his head cautiously. “Henry…but is - she has…the cow boob?”
Nick laughed loudly. It was rich and gorgeous, the sound feeling like it was in Charlie’s throat too. Charlie grinned sheepishly. “Udders. Yes, Henrietta!” said Nick, giving her an affectionate pat. “Both of these girls are named after the dogs that my mum and I had over the years; they were both incredible.”
“That’s adorable,” said Charlie, smiling. Smiling. It almost felt foreign. He smiled at Nick and at the cows, and at this place. Maybe this week wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad at all.
Notes:
This is not my recipe, but I made this cake recently. It is hedonistic and AMAZING.
Chocolate peanut butter oreo cake:
Cake ingredients
2 1/4 cup flour
2 1/4 granulated sugar
1 3/4 cups cocoa powder
2 tsp baking soda
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt
3 eggs at room temperature
1 1/4 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup plain greek yogurt (full fat preferred)
3/4 cup canola oil
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cup strong black coffee, hot
8 Oreos
Preheat the oven to 350°F and butter and flour 3 8” cake pans well.
In a large bowl, sift together the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the eggs, buttermilk, yogurt, canola oil, and vanilla at a low-medium speed. Mix until smooth. Reduce the speed to low and add in your sifted dry ingredient mix, one cup at a time, until no lumps of powder remain. Slowly add in your coffee until combined. It will be a dark, liquid-y batter to divide equally into your 3 cake tins. On one of the cakes, place your 8 Oreos, flat, on top of the batter.
Bake 3 cakes on the middle rack for 30-35 minutes, until the tops look shiny and firm, and a cake tested comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let cool for 10 minutes. Run a knife along the edge of the pan and flip cakes onto a wire rack to cool. Do not frost until cakes are cooled and at room temperature.
Nutella Buttercream2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar
3/4 cup Nutella
2 tsp vanilla extract
pinch of kosher saltIn a large bowl, beat the butter and confectioners sugar on medium speed for about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and then add in the Nutella and vanilla extract. Beat on high for 2 minutes more until the color is consistent. Add a pinch of salt and beat for 2 or 3 minutes more until super fluffy and smooth.
Peanut Butter Filling
2 1/4 cup creamy peanut butter
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 tbsp vanilla extract
2 cups confectioners’ sugarIn a large bowl, beat butter and peanut butter together with a hand-mixer on medium high until light and fluffy, maybe 2-3 minutes. Add in vanilla and beat for 30 seconds. Sift in the confectioners sugar and then gradually increase the speed of the mixer until well combined. The mixture should be thick and fluffy.
Cake Assembly:
Place a plain cake layer down on your cake stand and top with 1 cup of peanut butter filling. Spread evenly, adding additional peanut butter filling if needed. Set the Oreo cake layer down next and repeatwith the peanut butter filling step. You may have a bit of filling left over - that’s okay! You can use this to stack your decorative Oreos on top. Set the final layer on top and crumb coat your cake. Place in the freezer for 5 min before frosting everything with your Nutella buttercream. I topped it with dollops of peanut butter frosting with halved oreos placed in it.
Chapter 33: Charlie's POV: Mess
Summary:
Charlie spends the first part of the week at Lavender Fields, getting to know the occupants better.
Notes:
Remember how I said I wasn’t going to tell the whole story again through Charlie’s POV and he couldn’t make me do it?
🤡
Thank you to the beautiful tropical fish that are waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. Wavey just posted another epilogue of Narlie Waves and it is perhaps the best smut on the Internet. And there is a lot of smut on the Internet. I know because I looked. For research. NSB is nearing the end of her amazing opus, As You Are. It’s gorgeous and you must read it if you have not!
A CW for implicit emotional abuse from Ben.
See you next Thursday (somewhere in the world, Danny just giggled) for Epilogue 3!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hanging out with Nick Nelson was shockingly easy. Charlie had often found himself feeling shy or awkward in front of new people, particularly people who looked like Nick. Ones that looked like true lads with giant biceps. Those types of people had proven time and time again to not be welcoming to Charlie, harkening all the way back to his secondary school days. Those had been the types of people who made his life hard (well, even harder) and on the worst days, made him want to disappear.
Nick on the other hand - Nick made Charlie feel the most at ease that he had been for weeks. Maybe months, if he was being honest with himself. Charlie knew it was because Nick was a professional at hosting guests and making people feel comfortable. He was in the service industry, and did an amazing job at it. Nick had already gone far beyond his obligations and even showed Charlie the farm and the cows. Charlie had felt the warmest that he had in a while, a tiny flicker of normalcy and happiness in the oppressive darkness in his chest.
Then Ben called.
It was after Charlie and Nick were in the barn, one of the fucking massive cows rubbing her head on Charlie’s jumper. There were tiny white cow hairs and a string of disgusting drool all over his front, but Charlie didn’t mind. He had enough clothes to last the week and honestly, Nellie and Henry were adorable. Charlie walked with Nick up to the house, brushing the fur - hair - off his sweater, Nick still gently teasing him about his lack of vocabulary for cow tits. Charlie was going to say something back about Nick’s brain clearly rejecting its bovine knowledge by trying to express it in puns when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Charlie pulled it out and his whole body went cold when he saw who was calling.
Ben ♥️
Charlie stared at his phone, his whole body reacting to the name on the screen. The stupidly optimistic heart, added two years ago, taunted Charlie. His legs were shaky and his heart was pounding in his throat so hard that Charlie knew his pulse had to be visible. He hadn’t responded to Ben’s “hey” message, and Charlie felt an icy douse of guilt wash over him. Ben was going to be annoyed with him. Ben was going to be upset. Again.
Charlie barely noticed when Nick slipped inside as he was answering the call. All the better; Charlie didn’t want to annoy Nick and disrupt his life more than he already had with his presence at Lavender Fields. Dramatic, needy Charlie. Charlie took an unsteady breath before answering, trying to calm himself without much success. He felt faint, palms sweaty. He eyed one of the chairs on the porch, wondering if he should sit down in case he passed out. Charlie took one more breath before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” said Ben. There was a second of silence, the sound of Ben breathing. “You never responded to my message.”
“I’m sorry,” said Charlie automatically. But what the fuck was I supposed to say to that? a tiny voice in his brain said. The grovelling, scared voice was louder, though. “I’m sorry, Ben, I’m at this inn and the reception's not great…” That wasn’t true, but it was easier than telling the truth. That Charlie hadn’t responded to Ben because he didn’t know what to say. Ben waited, probably expecting Charlie to continue to apologise. Like he usually did. There were a few seconds of breath again between them, Charlie’s skin almost bursting as he held himself back from apologising a third time. “Where…are you?”
“France,” said Ben in a dismissive voice, not acknowledging Charlie’s apology. “Paris.”
Charlie felt another dull, sick twist in his stomach, a low and grinding swoop of sadness. He’d always wanted to go to Paris. Always. Ben had always been too busy. “Oh,” Charlie said quietly. Maybe Ben would catch his sadness. Maybe Ben would remember that Charlie had always wanted to go. Maybe Ben was there and thinking of him, thinking of the fact that they could have gone together. Instead Ben said…nothing. Charlie swallowed, feeling small and fragile and obligated to fill the silence. “How long are you there for?”
Ben sighed, a sharp hiss of air like a claw through the phone. “God, Charlie,” he said, Charlie already feeling the disappointment rolling off of him. “I need space. You call that space, harassing me about when I’ll be back? After what, two days?”
“Sorry,” said Charlie again. He opened his mouth to speak, but then felt an unfamiliar tug holding him back. Then why did you call me? If you wanted space? Why am I the one carrying this call?
Ben let Charlie dangle in the air for a moment before deigning to respond. “I’ll be back when I’m back,” he said. “Maybe I’ll be ready to talk when I get back. I’ll think about what I want.”
Charlie waited, but there was no follow-up from Ben. No asking what Charlie wanted. No assumption that Charlie wanted anything. Charlie was there to wait for Ben. To be better for him. There was that flash again, the smooth whip-crack of anger, there and gone. “Yeah,” said Charlie quietly. “I, uh - I get it.”
“Good,” said Ben, letting silence fall. “I have to go. Just wanted to let you know where I was.”
But you didn’t, the voice said again. You made me ask. You made me carry this conversation. You made me carry everything. You were the one who wanted to talk to me, but you wanted it to feel like I wanted to talk to you. Charlie pressed his lips together, wanting to say all of that. But the problem was, Ben had been right. He’d been able to do this like he always had, making Charlie desperately want any of the scraps he was willing to give.
“Okay,” said Charlie quietly. “Thanks for calling.” He paused. “Um, it’s nice here. I think you’d like it here.”
“God, it’s probably so boring,” said Ben, voice sounding like he was holding his phone away from his face, probably looking something up. Charlie bit back the retort that sure, it was boring to have to go on any trip alone. But it wasn’t worth it. Not right now. And also, Ben would point out how Charlie was the one who still chose to go so Charlie was responsible for being bored. It was his fault. It always was.
“It’s okay,” Charlie said. “It’s really beautiful and the owner is-”
“Gotta go,” said Ben. “I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, startled at the sudden shift. “I-” Charlie heard the call end and felt a pit of sickness in his stomach again, cold and pulling. So. That was the first time they had spoken since they - Ben - called off the wedding. And that was how it went. Ben made it feel like Charlie had initiated this, like Charlie was inconveniencing him. Charlie felt the hot prickle of tears pressing against his eyes, tears of grief and sadness and a hot frustration that made him want to tear off his skin. How did Charlie let Ben talk to him like that over and over? After every call, after every conversation where Ben disassembled Charlie piece by piece, he felt that frustration. Charlie imagined hundreds of things he might have said instead, refuting Ben’s irrational and unfair statements, the ones that felt so true and concrete when Ben slid them at him, icy and remorseless.
Charlie slowly went back inside, shutting the front door as quietly as he could and climbing the stairs, not wanting Nick to know the pathetic solo guest was back inside. Not wanting Nick to feel obliged to pity him again, pretending as though he was interested in how Charlie was doing. It wasn’t even dinner time, but Charlie crawled under the blankets on his bed, curling in a ball and shaking as the adrenaline left his body. He was cold, so cold. Charlie shook as he cried, feeling empty despite the swirling emotions in his chest. He was alone. Charlie had never wanted to be alone. It was always the most terrifying thing he could think of, always swallowing back his rebuttals to Ben’s attacks, terrified that Ben might decide he wasn’t worth the trouble. And then Ben had decided that, and here Charlie was. Alone.
Charlie startled when there was a gentle knock at the door. He thought about pretending to be asleep, but Nick was kind. Nick didn’t deserve that. Nick didn’t deserve to have to take care of Charlie and be ignored by Charlie. He knew his eyes were red-rimmed but there was nothing to be done. Charlie got up and opened the door to see Nick holding a steaming bowl with an oven glove shaped like a bear paw. Charlie blinked at the surprising, adorable detail, catching Nick’s offer for dinner, apparently a vegetarian chilli.
Charlie’s throat tightened. Poor Nick. Fuck, he was doing so much for Charlie. He probably heard part of the conversation with Ben, heard Charlie crying. Nick must have felt obliged to check on Charlie - again - and gone to see him. God, Charlie was probably the most annoying guest Nick had ever had. “Thanks,” Charlie said quietly, voice hoarse. “I - you didn’t have to do that.” He swallowed, a rush of gratitude for Nick’s kindness, even though it was due to pity. “For me.”
Nick gave him a half of a grin, a crooked smile that made him even more attractive. “I have to eat, too, you know. I just made some extra - and I wanted you to have something. If you want it?”
Charlie’s heart ached as he took the bowl and thanked Nick. Nick was just so kind. He didn’t remember the last time Ben had brought him food unbidden. Nick lingered even after Charlie took the bowl, leaning his gorgeous, muscular bulk against the doorway.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” said Nick. “I, uh - tomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous before some weather moves in later this week. I was going to go for a walk in the afternoon. I can show you the area if you’re up for it. Maybe around two in the afternoon or so?”
Who was this guy? Charlie wondered to himself. What the hell could Charlie offer to do for Nick in return? Charlie supposed there were mythical people who did things without expectation, but they seemed like unicorns. “Yeah,” said Charlie quietly, another little flicker of joy in his chest. “I think I might be up for that.”
“Well, then - see you tomorrow,” said Nick, that same hitched grin on his face. God, it just made him more attractive. He gave an adorable little wave - which was hilarious in the narrow hallway - and then went down towards the stairs.
Charlie watched him retreat, still clutching the bowl of chilli. Nick was so…so kind. Charlie felt the flame of joy light up the darkness once more, knowing that they had a walk tomorrow. That would be nice. Charlie would go walking with Nick.
-
The next morning, Charlie felt a twinge of nerves when he woke up and realised what time it was. He must have slept through breakfast, feeling a stab of guilt when he discovered the tray outside of his door when he did eventually wake up. He ate what he could, wondering if Nick would be upset with him when he went down. Nick had gone to all the trouble of making breakfast and Charlie hadn’t even showed, just stayed selfishly in his room. Ben would have been furious with him.
But Nick was all smiles when Charlie went down for their walk.
“Hi,” said Charlie nervously.
“Hi,” Nick said back, grinning. God, the way the light hit Nick’s hair made it glow golden. He was truly gorgeous.
Charlie felt another twist of anxiety, a sudden worry that he was imposing. Again. “Is it - is it still okay? If I come?”
“Charlie,” Nick said, fixing him with a look that reminded Charlie of an exasperated teacher and Charlie had to suppress an embarrassed grin. “Are you asking if it’s okay if you come on a walk that I invited you on?”
Charlie could feel the blush moving down his neck. “Well, I didn’t want to assume…”
Nick rolled his eyes good-naturedly and offered Charlie a to-go cup of coffee, which Charlie gratefully accepted. They made their way out of the house and went down the road, Nick pointing out endless things as they went. Charlie expected that it would mostly just be fallow autumn fields, but they ended up going by a bunch of farms, Nick telling him about the animals they saw and the people who owned each property. Nick chatted on and on as they walked, teaching Charlie about horse cliques and even giving him a carrot to feed the horses. And making puns. God, so many puns. Like, how could one person have so many puns about barnyard animals in their head?
They spoke as they walked, eventually ending up at a property with goats. Charlie had to grin at the floppy ears on them, all of them looking like the naughty kid in class. “What about goats?” Charlie asked, continuing their conversation about what animals Nick would and would not get at Lavender Fields.
Nick turned on him, pointing directly at Charlie, his startlingly beautiful eyes on Charlie’s. “Never. Goats are assholes, Charlie.”
Charlie froze and then burst into laughter, surprising himself. He hadn’t laughed openly and wildly like that in…well, it felt like a long time. Nick seemed pleased at that, telling Charlie about his “friend” who was attacked by a goat making Charlie laugh harder. Nick really was easy to be around, pleasant and friendly. He made Charlie feel like he was actually listening, though again Charlie knew it was because Nick was in the service industry and good at what he did. Nick continued to go above and beyond as they got back to the house, offering to give Charlie the house tour that Charlie had been too pathetic to go on the night he arrived. Nick showed him all around the house, then paused in the downstairs hallway by the room where Charlie was originally supposed to stay.
Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together as he took in the frankly horrifying gallery of death in front of him, glassy-eyes portraits looking at him as if they were having a silent debate around which one was going to murder him first.
“Uh, Nick?” asked Charlie, calling Nick back from the stairs. “Who is that?” Charlie asked, his voice a squeak as he pointed out the most homicidal of the portraits, a woman who appeared as though she was planning how to best turn Charlie into a skin scarf.
Nick laughed loudly and then told Charlie about the portraits, assuring him that they only murdered people twice a quarter or something. Charlie couldn’t be sure, he was too busy eyeing them warily to see if any of them twitched when he turned his back.
Nick gave Charlie the rest of the house tour, telling stories about every room in the property. It was clear how proud Nick was of the house and the inn. Charlie distantly wondered who else was part of the “we” Nick kept referring to. He hadn’t seen a sign of a wife or girlfriend but figured someone as fit and kind as Nick absolutely had one. Charlie took pity on Nick when Nick offered to make Charlie dinner, knowing that the continued offer to hang out was one of obligation, rebuffing him and insisting that he had his own plans for dinner.
Later that evening, Charlie drove to town and bought himself a takeaway dinner at one of the local shops. The town was adorable, quiet streets and glowing storefronts. Charlie became a little morose as he glanced into some of the restaurants, seeing people smiling and chatting. He remembered dinners with Ben, though the happy memories seemed harder to pull up. Charlie thought with a twist of guilt about his dinners with Elle and Tao, the three of them laughing about some stupid story or joke. He missed them. Charlie missed them so much. He had been such a shitty friend. As Charlie drove back, he felt the heaviness of shame burrow deeper into his stomach. Over the years, he had seen Elle and Tao less and less, trying to keep Ben happy. Ben didn’t like Elle and Tao. He said it was because Tao was pretentious and Elle was too serious, but Charlie suspected it wasn’t that, especially with the blinkers of the relationship slowly falling off. Tao called Ben on shit, and Ben didn’t like that. Elle asked insightful, thoughtful questions. Ben didn’t like that either.
Charlie had not only changed himself for Ben, he’d changed his relationships for Ben. All because Charlie wanted something. Someone. Yet, even with all he’d done, he didn’t have Ben anymore. And worse, he felt like he didn’t have himself anymore.
-
Despite the guilty, sickening swirl that Charlie had fallen into the night before, he felt oddly okay the next morning. He lay in bed for a moment, wondering why there was a tiny bit of warmth spreading through his chest and throat instead of the cold, numb dread that had lived there. He got out of bed and got ready, then headed down for breakfast. It must have been the food he was looking forward to; Nick was a truly amazing cook. Baker. Chef? Whatever.
Nick gave Charlie a glowing grin when he came down, making Charlie instantly regret not having joined him for breakfast the previous day. They chatted as Charlie ate, nearly dying with bliss at the bite of scone. They were incredible. There was a moment of silence and Charlie let his curiosity take over, wondering how a muscular lad like Nick had ended up wearing an apron in a bed and breakfast in the south of England. Charlie took a bite, swallowed. “When you say we - who do you run this with? Your - wife? Partner?”
Nick laughed. His laugh was amazing and lit up his whole face. “My mum.”
Charlie grinned, feeling as comfortable as he did with Tao when he was taking the mick. “Oh,” he said. “So, I’d hope not your wife then.”
Nigh laughed again and Charlie felt a swoop of pride for making this man, this amazing man authentically laugh. “Oh, one and the same,” Nick said, and Charlie chuckled. “No, this is actually just hers, really. I’m just taking care of it for a year.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Charlie, genuinely interested in Nick’s story. “What kind of job do you do that you were able to take off a year?” Then Charlie realised how pushy he was being, questioning Nick like this. When all Nick had done was be nice to him. Now Charlie was talking to him like he was a friend, not an innkeeper who was just being polite. “Sorry, I shouldn’t…I didn’t mean to pry, or like - interrogate you. I-”
Nick waved him off, his face still easy and open. “No, not at all. I retired at the end of last season and then had a year before I’ll go back as a coach.”
Charlie felt his heart settle from his panic. Retired? Nick looked around the same age as Charlie. “Last…season? You’re retired? You look a little young to be a pensioner…” Charlie gave Nick another smile, trying to show he could be casual and not a pain, asking endless questions.
Nick looked a little red, though Charlie had no idea why. “I played rugby for a while, so I just retired after the last season. My body wasn’t quite up to it anymore.”
Charlie tried to make sense of it. Like…Nick played rugby in uni? Why wouldn’t his body be up for it now? Then he realised and felt so stupid - England had actual, like, professional leagues. And judging on Nick’s size and muscles, he must have played in that league. God, he was probably semi-famous and Charlie was just faffing around. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Charlie stammered out. He probably seemed like such an idiot. Nick was probably massively famous and Charlie was here acting like he played youth league rugby for his local community team.
“Don’t be,” said Nick, waving his hands in a ‘don’t worry’ type of gesture. “Rugby isn’t like football, not as many people know about it, you know?” he said, like he had read Charlie’s thoughts. “And even with footballers, most people wouldn’t know them by face, just if they were, like, on the pitch…”
Again, it was Nick’s tone that made Charlie feel better, instantly assured. It even brought back a little of Charlie, feeling a tiny grin creep onto his face. Of course Nick would be an athlete, with his massive limbs that could pick Charlie up like a little kitten. Charlie’s favourite sport was Drag Race, so of course he wouldn’t have recognised Nick. “No, you don’t need to make an excuse for me,” Charlie said. “I’m not much of a sports fan. But it makes sense you were a rugby player, with your…” Shut the fuck up, Charlie, nothing good is going to come out of you continuing to talk. “These are really good.”
Nick brightened. He told Charlie all about his mum and her recipes, his face glowing as he spoke about her. Charlie listened and nodded, responding where it was appropriate, but a part of him hung back, a quietly mournful part. God, to see someone’s face looking like that when they talked about someone they loved…Charlie guessed maybe his face looked like that when he talked about Olly. That warm fondness, the absolute and unquestioning love for another person. Ben - well, Charlie guessed that Ben’s face had never looked like that when talking about him. Charlie wondered what Nick, this perfect being of light, what his face looked like when he talked about his partner. Charlie thought Nick would have far less exasperation on his face when talking about any of his girlfriends than Ben would have shown talking about him.
Exasperation - that was really the essence of Ben. It was a quieter disdain and disapproval, rarely loud. Ben would pick Charlie apart with muted indifference, not by shouting at him. Sometimes Charlie almost wished it were shouting.
Charlie brought himself back to Earth as Nick politely asked about his job. Charlie had been asking about Nick’s mum’s plans for ever making her recipes into a cookbook, mind already wondering about if he could finagle something to make up for all of the kindness that Nick had shown him. Then Nick asked some innocuous question and Charlie fucking ruined it (like he always did), bringing the conversation to a grinding halt by mentioning Ben and how ‘they’ used to live in London together. Not any more. Charlie pulled Nick down to his pathetic level instead of following Nick’s cheerful conversations, mired in his own misery and now trapping others, too. Charlie hated his brain sometimes. There was silence for a moment in the kitchen where Charlie hated himself and Nick probably hated the day that Charlie checked into his inn. Charlie was trying to think of how he could save the moment when Nick stepped in and did it for him.
“Do you…” Nick’s voice trailed off, trying to bring the train of conversation that Charlie derailed back on track. Charlie couldn’t look at him, staring instead into his coffee like it might swallow him. “Do you want to…whatever happened, it sounds like shit. I’m sorry that it…did happen.”
Why the fuck was Nick so kind? Charlie didn’t deserve it. ”It’s fine,” Charlie said, trying to cover up his own terrible company and smooth over what he had ruined. He was searching for the right words to say when Nick spoke yet again.
“It…it doesn’t have to be fine, you know,” Nick said, sounding like he was looking at Charlie. “It…you - it sounds like a lot changed for you in just the last few days.”
Despite himself, Charlie snorted into his coffee. “I’d say that. We were - we were together for three years, engaged for six months. It was…short for an engagement, I guess. He said I-” Charlie cut himself off. Nick did not need to hear about what happened the night before the wedding. What happened in the three years of his relationship. Still, he was unable to stop another small torrent of words, thinking back to the phone call. “He needed some space, he said. Some time to consider what he really wanted. He said we can maybe talk when he gets back.”
“Back?” asked Nick.
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “He went abroad for a few weeks. To clear his head, he said. He needed a break from…” From me. But Nick already knew that. “So, yeah. Hopefully he decides to talk to me when he gets back. Which I’m not sure…I’m not sure when that is.” Charlie sat with that, another curl of embarrassment and shame wrapping around his throat. Charlie was just there, waiting to see if Ben deigned to talk to him again. The same whipping boy position Charlie had been in for years.
There was a pause before Nick spoke again, and his voice sounded different. Tighter, maybe. “Well,” said Nick. “I’m glad you still came here.” Charlie looked at him, startled. Was this just Nick being polite? He couldn't actually be glad that Charlie’s sad sack self was ruining his meals like this. Nick’s voice softened and he nodded as if at Charlie’s unasked question. “Yeah,” Nick said, this time with a softer voice. “I really am.”
Charlie felt his heart ache. Nick was just so fucking kind. Even with the guilt he felt for making Nick work so hard to have him there, Charlie felt the same. He was glad he was there, too. “I am, too,” Charlie heard himself say out loud. He could feel the heat rising off his cheeks as he gazed down at his coffee.
This time there was only silence for a moment before Nick offered to make dinner for the two of them that evening, lightly rinsing Charlie when Charlie asked if Nick really was okay with that. They made plans for dinner together later, and Charlie eventually made his way to his room, still utterly perplexed by Nick Nelson. What was Charlie bringing to the table besides some below-average company who occasionally burst into tears during a meal? Maybe Nick was just thinking of all of the money that he could save on salt for meals; Charlie’s eyes certainly made enough.
Nick really was the kindest. And funniest. And fittest. And…god. It was just Charlie’s luck that he had ended up at this bed and breakfast with this temporary innkeeper. It was as if the universe was dangling the most perfect man in the world in front of him, taunting him with gorgeous sunbeam men, a stark contrast to the cold, unflinching one that he knew. Look what you’ll never have, Charlie could hear.
Or maybe, Charlie thought as he lay down for a nap a few hours later, body and brain exhausted. Maybe it’s trying to show me just how awful Ben really is by showing me how good some people can be.
-
Charlie woke up a few hours later in intense pain, all of the muscles in his lower back feeling like they had been pulled and twisted like taffy. That fits, he thought morosely. Why not add in some physical pain to match all of the emotional misery? Wincing, Charlie gingerly got out of bed, groaning as he did. So now he was 29, single and decrepit. Fan-tastic.
Charlie tried a few stretches which seemed to help, at least to a degree. He knew that it was a result of having essentially been in bed for the last few days, and not “in bed” in the sense that Charlie thought he would be during his honeymoon. Fuck, that thought sent a sick twist through his stomach. He had hoped that the honeymoon would have made sex feel better with Ben, more connected. Charlie had even stupidly hoped - no. Not…now. Charlie’s morning had been more pleasant than expected with talking to Nick, and he was not going to pull himself back into the depths with thinking about Ben. Not when Charlie knew he had to see another human again, with Nick bringing him dinner in a bit. Charlie didn’t want Nick to have to walk in again on Charlie’s red-rimmed eyes, a human succubus of joy.
So, no. Charlie didn’t want to drag Nick down with him. He was actually (pathetically) looking forward to seeing Nick, even just for a moment when Nick brought him some of the extra food he was making. Nick was just…kind. Easy to be with. It was almost startling, how easy it felt to be with him. Charlie had always taken a while to feel comfortable with new people, but not with Nick. Nick made him feel so…welcome. Again, Charlie knew that was Nick’s literal job, but he was good at it.
Charlie went to make himself tea, hoping it might somehow feel like a bath inside his body and ease his tense muscles. Charlie heard Nick moving around and turned to smile at him in greeting, though Charlie knew he didn’t disguise his face well.
“Oi, are you all right?” Nick asked, his face looking concerned. Charlie watched Nick’s hand move towards him like he was going to reach out and touch Charlie’s arm, but then it dropped.
“Oh, I’m fine.” Charlie tried to turn his expression back into a smile, but Nick’s face made it clear that what Charlie discovered in the Year 4 play was true - he was a bad actor.
“Charles Edward Rupert? Er, uh, Spring?” asked Nick, in a lofty tone. “Are you lying to me?”
Charlie felt a swell of happiness, authentically laughing at how ridiculous Nick was. “No, truly, I’m fine,” he said. “I think I just twinged something in my back. I’ve been less active the past few days than I normally am and I think all the time in the car and in bed that I just have something going on.” Ugh. That was embarrassing to admit. Charlie felt like a sickly Victorian woman. A mopey, whingey one at that.
“Do you want a massage gun? For your back?” asked Nick.
Charlie blinked. Seriously, who was this guy? “Do you have one?”
“I’m a washed up professional athlete,” said Nick, making Charlie laugh. “Of course I do.”
“Yes, that would be great. If it doesn’t put you out.”
“Come on, then,” said Nick. He gestured and opened a door Charlie hadn’t entered yet, one off the dining room that went to his private part of the house. Charlie felt a strange thrill going through his belly, like he was getting to see some secretive, magical place. He paused at the entry until Nick grinned at him and gestured through the open door. Charlie followed Nick past a massive pantry that had been built into the hallway, shelves of food lining the wall.
“Planning for the apocalypse?” Charlie asked as Nick started up the stairs.
Nick snorted. “Just a guest-apocalypse. We’ve had up to fourteen people for breakfasts and it’s shocking how much food we go through.” He looked back and grinned at Charlie. “My mum said it was just like having one of me growing up again.”
Charlie grinned stupidly as he followed Nick up the stairs, imagining him as an adorable little boy, ravenously hungry. They went up the stairs to another small landing, then Nick went through the doorway on the right, one that led to a private living area. Charlie glanced around as Nick looked on the shelves for the massage gun. There were pictures of Nick everywhere, as well as another similar-looking boy and man that Charlie guessed was a brother. Charlie had to remind himself that this was actually Nick’s mum’s living room and not Nick’s self-indulgent shrine to himself. Though if Charlie looked like Nick he’d stack his rooms with as many images of himself as he could just to revel in the fact of how good-looking he actually was. Charlie thanked Nick when Nick handed him the massage gun, Charlie’s eyes still roaming until he saw something fucking brilliant.
“Is that an old school Nintendo system?” asked Charlie, pointing at the iconic box under the television.
Nick grinned, and Charlie was struck by how beautiful of a smile Nick had. It just made him feel…warm. Welcome. “It is. Some of my rugby mates and I were super addicted to Mario Kart when we played. We had these Thursday night tournaments over at the flat of two lads on the team - the two that sent me that recipe, actually.” Recipe? Charlie wondered, having entirely forgotten that the original plan was for Nick to bring him dinner and then go on his merry way. Charlie nervously thought about how he should probably make an excuse and get out of Charlie’s hair when Nick went on. “I don’t want to brag, but I am pretty good.”
That…was interesting. Charlie wasn’t very good at many things. But Mario Kart… And Nick had said that in a friendly, laddish way. Was he trying to challenge Charlie into a round? “Pretty good, yeah?”
Nick pretended to polish his nails on his shirt. “I mean…” Charlie laughed, that same swoop of alien-feeling warmth in his chest, the one that Nick seemed to have a unique way of causing. “You up for a round? After you work on your back, I mean.”
Charlie was suddenly feeling much, much better. “No, this is way more important,” he said with a grin, the expression growing on his face without any conscious control. “Unless you don’t think you can take me?”
“Oh, I can take you,” said Nick confidently. Charlie thought he kept the expression on his face neutral, though that made a pleasant squirm go through his belly. God, in another situation with another (non-straight) man…
Poor Nick. Poor Nicholas Nelson. The next hour or so was filled with Mario Kart, soup intermissions, and squawks from the two of them, words and laughter crossing over one another’s.
“You have to be cheating-”
“It's not my fault that you have the reflexes of a garden slug…”
“C’mon, you have to let me win!”
“Do you really have that little self-respect?”
After several games, Nick tossed the controller down and groaned, his head in his hands. Charlie noticed the golden light dancing in his hair from the TV, Luigi spinning around in celebration. Charlie dragged his eyes away from that to grin as Nick looked over at him, eyes filled with the woe that only someone unaware of Spring Mario Kart dominance could contain. “Ohhh, so by ‘pretty good’, you meant ‘with the motor skills of an infant’, right?”
Nick laughed loudly. It was such a nice laugh. Ben’s always had an edge to it. Or maybe that’s because Charlie could only think right now of the times when Ben was laughing at someone, grinning at the people around him to share mirth at someone’s expense. Charlie snapped out of that when Nick bonked him with a frilly throw pillow. “My mum says the customer is always right. I’m letting you win so you feel like you’re right.”
Charlie laughed again, feeling like he was back with Elle and Tao again. God, he missed them. He had missed them for so long. It was that same ease, the silliness, the casual taking of the mick. “My mum said that you’re terrible at Mario Kart.”
Nick’s face was alight, grinning broadly. “Well, tell your mum-”
Charlie’s eyes had been on Nick’s amazing, open face when some movement caught his eye, thick fluffy flakes falling behind the window. “Oh!” he said, pointing. “It’s snowing!”
Nick was equally excited, exclaiming at the early snow, then groaning and telling Charlie he needed to bring the cows in, explaining that sweet simple Henry had a propensity for staying out and getting dirty. Charlie offered to help and Nick waved him off at first.
“No, I can help,” said Charlie, already putting his shoes back on, the ones he hadn’t even realised he’d taken off. “You’ve done so much extra for me - like these dinners and stuff - and I’d kind of…I love that first snowfall? So I kind of like the idea of being outside in it for a little.” That seemed…childish. He blushed a little, but Nick was kind as he always was, making Charlie feel a little less like an outsider.
“I’m with you; it’s almost magic, right?” said Nick, smiling at Charlie and giving Charlie another flash into what eight-year-old Nick was probably like. “Alright, I mean - you’re welcome to come, but just as company. You don’t need to help me!”
-
Charlie was on the fence, a grin hidden behind his coat as he watched Nick “definitely not need help.” Nick had been pushing and heaving at the cow for a few minutes, and while Charlie wanted to be optimistic, he felt like Nick was the only one moving, not Henry.
“Are you sure you still don’t need help?” Charlie called from behind the fence, his second offer. Nick had rebuffed the first one.
“No…” said Nick, mumbling something that Charlie couldn’t quite catch. He grinned. Nick’s hair was a mess, the long strands swept across his forehead. Charlie remembered reading the phrase “rakishly handsome” in a recent romance novel and felt like he finally got it. That…was Nick. Rakish. Whatever that actually meant. Charlie watched as Nick squared his shoulders and went to Henry’s…arse?...again, driving his shoulder forward in a mighty push. Until, that is, his feet went from under him, slipping sideways and shooting out, sending Nick splattering into the mud.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Charlie, hurrying over. Well, hurrying as much as a person who hated mud could. “Are you okay?” His concern lessened as he got closer and could see Nick’s face, laughing. Charlie grinned; Nick’s humour was just infectious. Charlie reached out his hand. “Here, let me…” Charlie extended his gloved hand and Nick took it. His weight was too much for Charlie with his tenuous purchase and Charlie went arse over tea kettle into the mud himself.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” asked Nick, sounding worried. Charlie was too busy laughing, shaking his hands and sending muck flying.
“We are fucking messes,” said Charlie. Henry looked at him and Nick, then daintily stepped past them into the barn, giving what was the cow equivalent of the finger.
That made Nick and Charlie both dissolve again, the two of them taking their time getting up, joking with one another about cow-goat hybrid arseholes. They chatted and laughed all the way up the house, both of them taking off their shoes and leaving them on the porch for the mud to dry.
Charlie was still laughing as he went up to have a shower, replaying the sitcom-like scene in his head over and over. Ben would have hated that. Ben would have been absolutely furious to be covered in mud like that, complaining about the cold and the stupid place that Charlie had chosen that had cows and barns and mud. Nick, though - Nick had been full of good cheer, laughing at himself and the situation. He was disarmingly funny, kind, and just…good. There was that word again. Nick was good. Charlie wished Nick lived in London. Maybe they could even be friends.
And maybe, thought Charlie, recalling how strong Nick’s arms looked pushing against Henry, he also needed to Google some rugby pictures of Nick. For science.
Notes:
I have a backup dessert recipe if you ever unexpectedly have people over and don’t have something on hand. It’s chocolate mousse with 2 ingredients!
Ingredients:
4 parts (e.g. 4pounces) chopped dark chocolate or dark chocolate chips (choose chocolate without dairy if you want it to be dairy-free)
3 parts (e.g. 3 ounces) waterFill a smaller bowl with ice and water and place a large bowl on top so the larger bowl is sitting on the ice water.
Pour the water in a small saucepan and heat it to a warm/hot temperature and then whisk in the chocolate, mixing until smooth. Pour the mixture into the larger bowl and start whisking the chocolate and water until the mixture thickens. Voila! Mousse! Add any toppings you want and serve.
If the mixture gets over-whipped and stiff, no worries. Just melt the chocolate and water back down and try again. Doesn’t get thick enough? Melt it back down and add some chocolate. If it gets grainy, that just means it emulsified - same thing, melt it down and then whip it back up!
Chapter 34: Charlie's POV: Visiting
Summary:
Elle and Tao show up, to Charlie’s surprise. Elle and Charlie finally start talking about Ben together.
Notes:
You win, Charlie. You get your own re-retelling of Lavender Fields. And I am not happy about it.
Thank you to the wonders who are waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. Wavey is coming up on the last epilogue of Narlie Waves, which is devastating as that work is incredible. NSB is also nearing the end of As You Are, another beautiful and fantastic story. How lucky are we to be in a fandom with such massive talent?
CW for Charlie's self-blaming thoughts as a result of his relationship with Ben.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie was fucking freezing when they got inside, thoroughly chilled by the wet snow and the mud. “Oh shit,” he murmured after he came in, noticing the bits of muck flying off the cuffs of his jeans despite leaving his boot outside on the porch. Charlie looked guiltily at Nick. “Can I borrow a broom to-”
Nick was waving him off before Charlie even got the sentence out. “Forget about it, you bovine-whisperer, I’ll take care of it. I sweep up every night, I’m always tracking mud in here from the barn.”
Charlie grinned, the anxiety that had flared already ebbing from his chest before it even took root. Nick just made him feel so comfortable. “Bovine whisperer? I don’t really think I was much help.”
Nick paused, considering. “No,” he conceded. “Nothing would have moved that absolute and literal cow.” Then Nick grinned cheekily. “But it was better than, ‘Charlie, who can kick my arse at Mario Kart’.”
Charlie laughed and smiled back at Nick. “Well, if the boot fits…”
Nick smiled at him again, easy and friendly. “Need anything?”
“No,” said Charlie. He wouldn’t have said yes in a million years, not after all Nick had done for him already. Charlie headed upstairs to have a shower, shivering and letting the water warm up to “skin-boiled-off-alive” temperatures before getting in, sighing as the warmth finally seeped into his muscles.
As Charlie rinsed off, he thought of how genuinely fun the evening had been. Charlie hadn’t gotten the chance to play Mario Kart in a while, though it has been something he and his sister had bonded over growing up. They’d often tuck themselves away in the sitting room to escape the cold disapproval of their mother, rinsing one another and competing for hours. Charlie missed Tori. He’d seen her some, of course, but less than he wanted to. There were so many people that he had seen less and less, especially in the last few years since he and Ben had lived together. Charlie felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach, the guilt cold and tense and tangible. He’d been such a terrible friend, choosing to not see the people in his life. Charlie closed his eyes and turned away from the spray, trying to refocus his thoughts. A moment ago he had been reliving the last few happy hours, mentally rewinding the many scenes where he and Nick had laughed together. Charlie sighed and pushed his mind back towards those happy recollections, remembering how Nick had playfully slapped the controller out of Charlie’s hand and then promptly fallen off Rainbow Road.
“That’s god punishing you,” Charlie had said primly, making Nick lean his head back and laugh loudly. Charlie felt a sense of ease steal back into his chest as he remembered that moment, edging out the guilt, at least for a moment.
After his shower, Charlie dressed and lay on his bed, replaying other things he and Nick had said to one another, or picturing the look on Nick’s face, covered in mud and grinning, once he could see that Charlie wasn’t hurt. Nick’s face. God it was just so…open. He seemed so honest. So good.
Charlie jumped when there was a knock at his door, a soft one. He grinned to himself, wryly wondering if he had Beetlejuiced Nick into existence by thinking of his name too many times. Nick. Nick Nelson. It had such a nice sound to it.
Charlie got up and opened the door, smiling. “Hi.” He distantly wondered if he was supposed to invite Nick in. This was Nick’s house - but Charlie was in the room - and…
“Hi,” said Nick, grinning back at him, and all the thoughts left Charlie’s head at Nick’s half-hitched smile. The silence hung for a moment before Nick spoke again, his eyebrows drawing together and the happiness on his face disappearing. “Uh, there are some people here to see you,” he said. Charlie took a half-step back without meaning to, his just-warmed body now flooded with cold, immediately feeling like he might be sick.
Who was here? Ben? His parents? Nick said some people - so more than just Ben? Jesus, Charlie didn’t know if he could take seeing Ben right now.
Before his mind could spin too much, Nick spoke again, holding up his hands like Charlie was a spooked horse. “It’s…they said their names are Elle and Tao? They said they…they were worried about you and came down to check up on you.” At that, Charlie felt a surge of emotions warring in his stomach. Elle and Tao were here? They…came to check on him? After Charlie had been the shittiest friend for over a year? Did they even want to see him? They’d been messaging him, sure, but that was only… Charlie blinked and fought to bring his attention back to Nick, whose brown eyes were looking at him with concern. “I told them that I’d check to see if you were ‘here’,” Nick put air quotes around the word “here” with his fingers. “So if you’re not ‘here’, you can let me ‘know’ and I’ll tell ‘them’.”
With a miasma of complex feelings coursing through his body, Charlie tried to take a grounding breath. Nick was making it clear that he was on Charlie’s side. Nick was on Charlie's side. That…that felt more supportive than it should, and was just another sign of how pathetic Charlie was. Charlie was so pathetic that he was comforted by a literal stranger, someone who Charlie was paying money to. Of course Nick would be on his side; Charlie was a customer. A paying customer. Still. It felt…nice. And Elle and Tao - they were on his side, still, or so it seemed. That was more than Charlie deserved. He had been so terrible, so distant, so flaky, so unavailable. Yet Elle and Tao were here. Charlie nearly couldn't believe it. Charlie looked back at Nick, who was waiting and looking at Charlie like he actually cared about what Charlie wanted. Did Charlie want Nick to tell them that he wasn’t there? Like he hadn’t been metaphorically for months?
“No, I’m…I just can’t believe they’re here,” murmured Charlie. He truly couldn’t. While Charlie logically knew that Lavender Fields was only ninety minutes from London, it felt like a different world. He was staggered that Elle and Tao had come all the way here just for him. “I’ve been such a bad friend and they’re still…” Charlie stopped himself, not wanting to burden Nick with how badly he’d messed up his own life. “Did they seem…angry?”
Nick looked puzzled. “Angry?” he repeated. “No, not at all. They seemed - worried. Well, Elle did. Tao seemed like he wanted to stab me with a Lavender Fields fork.”
Despite how frayed Charlie’s nerves felt, he had to laugh at that, a strangled-sounding snort. God, Nick had cut right to the heart of Tao in less than ten words. “No, that’s just RTF,” Charlie said.
“RTF?” asked Nick, tilting his head and smiling at Charlie’s laugh.
“Resting Tao Face,” Charlie explained. Nick grinned and laughed at that and Charlie felt another smooth brush of warmth through his chest hearing Nick’s soft chuckle. It was enough to push through Charlie’s worries and at least give Nick the context of what was happening. Nick deserved that at least. “Yeah, they’re two of my best friends in the world. I’ve seen less of them the past few months and I feel like…” Charlie glanced up at Nick, nervous to meet his gaze. He was startled when he did. Nick’s face didn’t look judgemental or overburdened or any of the things it could have done.
“Hey,” Nick said, his voice quiet and kind. It made Charlie’s throat ache. “Whatever’s going on, they’re here, and they seem to want to see you. Do you want to see them?”
Charlie did. He really, actually did. “Yeah,” he said, emotion threatening to send him crumbling into the ground. “I really do.”
Nick smiled at him then, a gorgeous, kind smile that made Charlie feel like the only person on earth. “Then let’s make it happen.”
Charlie followed Nick down the stairs, his heart beating rapidly. He could feel his throat tightening as they went, his emotions threatening to spill over at any second. The moment Charlie went into the dining room and saw Elle, it was over. She rushed over to meet him and swept him into an embrace, her cheek against his and her arms around him.
“Oh, Charlie,” Elle murmured before her voice broke. The two of them stood there for a long stretch. Charlie hadn’t been held like this in so long - months, maybe. It wasn’t like that with Ben. Not like this. With Ben, embraces were usually a precursor to something else, some physical intimacy. Not like this, like it was with a dear friend. Charlie and Elle clutched at each other until Charlie heard Tao shifting and clearing his throat, pulling away from Elle and launching himself at Tao. They embraced for several moments too before breaking away and both wiping at their eyes.
“Charlie,” Elle started, and her voice nearly pushed Charlie into tears again. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. He was. He wasn’t. He didn’t know. He couldn’t believe she and Tao were here.
“Have you been all right? You’ve been here - god, you’ve almost been here a week, haven’t you?”
“It’s been…” Charlie didn’t know how to finish it.
“I know,” said Tao, quieter than his usual tone. “I bet it’s been a lot of things, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “It’s been…god, it’s been shit for part of it. But also…” Charlie glanced sidelong at Nick, who had edged into the kitchen as unobtrusively as possible. “It’s been really nice, too,” he said quietly, not wanting to ensnare Nick any more than Charlie already had in the web of his stupid life. “It’s still…things have been really hard. But I’m doing all right, I really am.” Charlie thought of how kind Nick had been. How Charlie hadn’t felt so utterly alone. “I’m really glad I came here,” said Charlie, looking at Elle. “I feel…I feel safe here.”
There was a pause where Elle’s throat worked for a moment, and then she nodded. “Good,” she said. There were a few minutes of quiet chatter, the three of them saying nothing of much substance but all of it meaning everything to Charlie. Nick came back in eventually, clearing his throat and offering tea and the soup he and Charlie had eaten earlier, which Tao (predictably) took him up on. Charlie took the opportunity to compliment Nick’s cooking, which made Nick’s ears turn adorably red.
“I’ll take some,” said Elle with a small smile at Nick.
“Same, obviously,” said Tao. “A big bowl.”
Charlie snorted. He was feeling a little peckish; he and Nick had last eaten a few hours ago and Charlie hadn’t had very much. “I’ll have some, too.” A slow smile slid onto Nick’s face and Charlie watched it grow, feeling inexplicably delighted by making Nick smile like that. “Are you going to have some, too?” Charlie asked Nick, hoping he’d join them. Charlie was so glad to see Elle and Tao, so desperately happy. He was also nervous, too. Being with his friends meant talking. That meant…telling. Telling them about Ben. About what happened. Opening up the wound of Charlie's shame. If Nick was there, he’d act as a buffer - Elle wasn’t going to get into the worst of it with someone they didn’t know present. And it wasn’t just that. Nick - he made Charlie feel…safe. Charlie needed as much of that as he could get. Nick hesitated, and Charlie pressed on. “Please,” Charlie said, looking directly at Nick. “I want you to join us.”
The four of them gathered their things, Nick collecting the bowls and bringing food to everyone in the sitting room. There was a stretch of that contented, sated silence that was punctuated by Elle and Charlie complimenting Nick’s cooking, and Tao offering the odd grunt that meant he liked it, too. It was light and low key but still Charlie knew what was coming.
“Charlie,” Elle said, turning to face him on the couch and taking her hand in his. She glanced briefly at Nick before looking back at Charlie. “Are you okay?”
There was so much in those three words. Charlie could taste all of it - the concern, the worry, the fear that she’d probably nursed for the last few days. Weeks, maybe. Months. Who knew. Charlie tried to speak, but he didn’t know how to summarise the shattering of his entire world into words. Was he okay? Would he ever be okay? He could feel his mouth trembling as he tried to speak.
Elle squeezed his hand. “Let’s start with if you have a place to stay when you go back to London.” God, Charlie loved Elle. She knew when his brain was too overwhelmed and how to break it all down into simpler steps. The next right step is the next one, she would sometimes say to him.
Charlie took a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he said, not meeting her eye. “He said he’d let me stay in the flat until he got back-”
Charlie jumped when both Nick and Tao exclaimed loudly, their words mixing together in something that Charlie heard as, “That dicknozzle fuck, this piece of stay?!” Charlie’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, a look that deepened when he saw Tao give Nick a tiny, approving nod. Charlie’s eyebrows shot up then. Tao as a rule hated anyone whose biceps were bigger than their calves.
Charlie paused, slightly buoyed by the show of support. “Well, yeah - I mean, he is still paying half and he won’t be there for the month, so at least he’s still paying for part of it…” There was a sour taste in Charlie’s mouth when he thought about that conversation. The way Ben had made it clear that he was allowing Charlie that favour. But to be fair, Ben was still paying for half of it. It was half his flat, too. Charlie was ruminating on that, feeling a sick sense of dread, imagining having yet another conversation about the flat in person with Ben. Charlie went to go on, but Elle was looking at him closely, her beautiful face drawn in concern.
“Charlie…wasn't that your flat first? That he moved into?”
“Yes,” said Charlie. “But we’re both on the lease now…”
Again, both Tao and Nick burst out at the same time.
“It was your flat-”
“Seriously, who the fuck is this guy-”
“Shh!” Elle shushed Tao and Nick, waving her hand at them dismissively.
Charlie looked down at his lap where his hands were knotting against one another, his thumb picking at the cuticle of one of his nails on the other hand. If he dug any more, it would bleed. “Anyway…” Charlie said. He could hear how quiet his voice was. “He said that I could have the flat for the month. Or until he gets back.”
Nick muttered something and Tao snorted. Charlie looked up, but Elle was speaking again. “And then what, Charlie?” asked Elle gently. “He comes back and…then what?”
That was the question that had haunted Charlie all week. What then? What would it look like when Ben came back, whenever he did? Would he be the aloof and long-suffering Ben who somehow always made Charlie realise how stupid Charlie had been, and how gracious Ben was to tolerate him? Would he be the capitulating, cooing Ben who came with flowers and apologies and promises to ‘try harder’? Or would he be the icy and cruel Ben, the one who told Charlie in a dismissive tone that Charlie would never do better than Ben? Charlie had met all of them. He had met them over and over, and Charlie had still opened the door to each of them every time, no longer even knowing which Ben he was hoping to meet.
“I don’t know,” said Charlie, not able to meet any of their eyes. He shut his eyes against the pain of reality, trying to squeeze them closed hard enough to bring him back into his body.
Charlie opened his eyes again and glanced at the people around him. Elle and Tao, his two best friends in the world. Nick, the kind person who had taken pity on Charlie. “I don’t know what it looks like, honestly. I mean, I don’t like…well, everything that happened…I don’t know.” Charlie picked at the skin on his finger again, bright red blood welling up in a neat line along his nail. He pictured all of the Bens he’d lived with, and realised that while he’d been miserable at times at Lavender Fields, Charlie had never felt the same dread he had with every version of Ben. In all of the moments with Nick, Charlie has begun to not feel afraid of how his words might be taken, or how he might be spoken to. That was…startling. It felt like an entirely new, alien world. It was a world that Charlie…wanted. “But I want…I would need things to change?”
“Change?” Elle repeated, looking at Charlie.
Charlie tried to gather the words. It wasn’t just the way that he had felt in Lavender Fields. Yes, the idea of not walking on eggshells had been a relaxation like Charlie hadn’t known in months, maybe over a year. But it was also the way that Nick made him feel listened to. Like Charlie’s words mattered. “Yeah,” said Charlie, looking at Elle’s face, filled with concern. He tried to think of how to explain things. “I don’t want to be with someone who thinks I’m…” I don’t want to be with someone who thinks I don’t matter. I want to matter. “I…the past few days, I’ve thought a lot about it, and…and I realised that no matter what, calling off the wedding the night before…” Charlie paused, not ready to share it all. Not in front of Nick, either. Nick, who had been so kind. Charlie didn’t want Nick to have to hear the ugly story, the one that made Charlie shrivel with shame to share. “I think I deserve an apology about that to start.”
“YES,” said Tao and Nick in almost-perfect unison, making Charlie jump again, a tiny smile sliding onto his face once his heart rate settled.
Nick. Nick, who had spoken so kindly to him. That was…that was the type of person that Charlie wished desperately he could have in his life. Someone kind like Nick. Someone who acted like Charlie mattered. “And I need…I need the way we talk to change. How…we talk to each other,” Charlie continued. Tao made a disapproving sound that Charlie ignored, pressing on. “And if he - we - can’t do that, that’s not someone I want to be with.” Charlie paused at that, his breath catching. He’d never…said anything like that before. He’d never said that he, Charlie, was the one who might not want to be with Ben. The thought was foreign and dizzying and Charlie took a deep breath in, bulldozing past it. “So we’ll talk when we both get home - get back.” There was a beat of silence where Elle looked at Charlie, her eyes sparkling and wet.
“Get rid of him,” Tao said, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but he sucks.”
Elle shook her head and chucked Tao on the arm. “What Tao means,” she said, “Is that you deserve better. Definitely better than how he’s treated you. You do.”
Deserve. What Charlie deserved. Ben had told Charlie what Ben deserved. Ben deserved someone fitter, someone more charismatic with his work friends. Ben deserved someone who would let him go out on a goddamn Wednesday and not be all passive aggressive and pissy about it. Ben deserved someone who gave him some freedom. Ben deserved someone better than Charlie. “Maybe,” said Charlie, not trusting himself to say anything more without bursting into tears.
There was a long, aching silence that Nick finally broke, asking Elle and Tao if they would stay the night. Elle readily agreed and Charlie’s heart jumped. He couldn’t believe they were here - and now they were staying. For Charlie. Nick disappeared for a bit to get towels and linens for Elle and Tao, and Charlie showed them to the room that they’d stay in, following Nick’s directions. Charlie gave them a mini tour of the house, recalling some of the facts that Nick had shared with him, including the existence of a mummified rodent named Squentin. Elle tossed her things into her and Taos’ room and then immediately came back to Charlie’s room, sitting on his bed next to him and laying her hand on top of his.
“Are you exhausted?”
Charlie was. He felt more sleepy than he had all week. It wasn’t the same tired that he’d been, a bone-deep weariness, mixed with some numbness. He had felt exhausted since the night before the wedding, but sleep had still felt impossible. It had been a tiredness without respite, one that pulled at him angrily when he tried to sleep. Now he felt..different. Authentically, almost refreshingly tired. “Yeah,” Charlie responded, looking at Elle. Elle, who was here for him. Charlie felt a flash of something good, something that felt like being cared for. Or even just cared about. “But I’m so glad you’re both here.”
Elle smiled, her eyes looking a little watery. “I’m glad we are, too,” she said. She patted his hand. “We can talk more tomorrow,” she said, giving Charlie’s fingers a squeeze in hers.
Charlie was immeasurably grateful for her - for being there, for talking earlier, and for not talking more tonight, knowing Charlie wasn’t quite ready. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. They embraced and Elle headed back into her room, Tao popping his head in to tell Charlie goodnight and that they needed to be downstairs right when breakfast began the following day so that all the good pastries wouldn’t be gone. Charlie laughed and reminded him that they were the only guests, to which Tao raised a finger in silent, intense reproach before sliding out of sight.
Charlie could feel the tiny smile still on his face when he went to bed that night. Elle and Tao were there. His friends were there. Nick would be making breakfast tomorrow and would be there, too.
Charlie slept the best he had in weeks.
-
The next morning, Tao pounded on Charlie’s door bright and early. Charlie groaned something unintelligible and Tao and Elle both burst in, piling onto the bed after Tao whipped open the blinds.
Charlie exclaimed against the sunlight. “Jesus, Tao!” he said, wincing. “You’re chipper for someone who hates mornings.”
“But loves pastry,” Tao said seriously. “I read the reviews of this place and I am not missing out. Every minute away from freshly-baked is a minute lost.”
Charlie grinned and slowly got out of bed, half-arsedly shoving Elle and Tao towards the door so he could get ready. “I’ll get you in two minutes,” he promised.
“That’s 120 seconds of pastry warmth gone forever, Charlie,” said Tao, shaking his head as if disappointed.
Charlie smiled and shook his head and shut the door, but not before taking in a long inhale. Something was already baking in the kitchen and it smelled incredible. God, Nick was incredible. An incredible baker, that was. And it was incredible that he was willing to get up so early to make breakfast for Charlie and his friends. Charlie hurried to get ready and then fetched Elle and Tao, the three of them heading downstairs together.
Nick smiled warmly as the three of them came in, offering tea and coffee and only looking slightly surprised when Tao charged towards the dining room table and swiped a still-warm scone from the basket that Nick had set out. Charlie, Elle, and Tao sat to eat with Nick topping off each of their drinks and then moving to retreat to the kitchen.
“Why don’t you eat with us, Nick?” asked Elle, her bright eyes looking at Nick.
“Oh, no, I don’t want to be a bother,” said Nick hastily. Charlie felt a tiny bit crestfallen, his heart having sped up incrementally at Elle’s invitation.
“Do you not eat breakfast?” asked Tao, his brow furrowed.
“No - I mean, yeah, I do, but-”
“And are you going to eat today?” Tao demanded.
“Er, yeah, but-’”
“So what, you’re just going to eat alone in the kitchen like a weirdo?” asked Tao. He pointed to a chair. “Just sit.”
Nick sat, looking like a schoolboy who had been slightly told off, abashed and meek. Charlie and Elle exchanged a look with one another, suppressing grins. The conversation was easy and light after that, Elle asking Nick questions about the inn and property, Nick responding enthusiastically. Charlie liked watching Nick talk. He was so animated and friendly, responding to anything any of them said. Nick’s face was warm and open (and beautiful) and he was an amazing conversationalist. There were no icy silences, no ignored comments where Nick pretended not to hear them, even if they were bumbling and awkward (Charlie) or seemed borderline rude (Tao). Nick was just so…responsive. Warm.
After breakfast, Charlie offered to give Elle and Tao a tour of the farm, looking quickly at Nick to make sure it was okay, Nick just giving him a broad smile in return. Charlie took that as a yes, feeling a little warm. They made their way through the house, Tao and Elle both looking at the undead row of glass-covered demons with suspicion. After the house, Nick joined them and gave Elle and Tao a tour of the property, Charlie enjoying listening to Nick sharing more about the grounds, both old and new. Nick just had a nice voice; he was easy to listen to.
After wandering for a bit, they all went back inside. Nick excused himself to do his chores and Tao said he wanted to go back into the lavender fields to take some pictures, saying something about the setting and how perfect it would be for shoots. Charlie went into the kitchen to make some tea for him and Elle, taking his time. He knew that once it was just the two of them, she’d want to talk. Charlie sighed as the kettle clicked off. Elle deserved that. He made her tea the way he knew she liked it and carried both mugs into the parlour, handing her one.
Charlie sat and looked over to his friend who he’d known since he was a child. Her eyes were kind, but concerned.
“Charlie,” Elle said, her voice gentle. “Are you all right?”
God, there was so much in her words. After nearly two decades of knowing each other, Charlie knew she was asking about more than just right now. Charlie started to take a sip of his tea, but the heat burned at his lip. The pain was good, grounding. “I’m…” Charlie felt overwhelmed. He didn’t know how to summarise it all neatly in a nicely packaged phrase.
Elle nodded. “Let’s start with this. Are you physically safe right now?”
Charlie nodded. He was. He was here, in no danger. For all of Ben’s cruelties, it had never been physical. And Charlie was safe at Lavender Fields. Nick was a safe person who Charlie felt completely comfortable sharing a house with. As a guest, that was.
“Are you emotionally safe?”
That one was harder. Charlie swallowed. “I…I don’t know.”
“Have you been chatting with Ben at all? Has he been harassing you at all?”
“No,” said Charlie, probably too quickly. He tested the tea again. Still too hot, but he took a sip and it burned. “Well, yes and no. I spoke with him a few days ago. He called from France. But not much else. So no, not harassing.”
Elle made a humming sound. “Are you going to see him when you go back to London?”
“I…I don’t know,” said Charlie.
“Do you want to see him when you go back to London?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie said again, the cup trembling in his hand. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes, and only distantly recognised that Elle took the mug out of his hand.
“That’s all right, Charlie,” Elle said kindly. “You don’t have to know. What about how you’ve been doing so far?. How have you been since you’ve been here - after whatever happened with Ben?”
Whatever happened with Ben, Charlie thought dully. Elle would have to use language like that since she didn’t know. Since Charlie hadn’t told her, instead biting the shame back and keeping it for himself. “I’ve been…” Charlie picked his cup back up, a cautious sip. It was all right now, comfortingly hot but not scalding. “I’ve been okay, I think?” Elle looked at him and Charlie nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ve been…okay. Nick’s been…he’s just a really kind person,” Charlie said. He looked down. “He hasn’t made me feel like a piece of shit for being here alone.”
“Charlie,” Elle said, gentle reproach in her voice.
“I know,” said Charlie, already shaking his head at what he knew she would say.
“Do you?” Elle asked, sounding like she meant it, her voice pained. “Do you know that it’s okay and normal and great that you are here? That you were brave and self-aware enough to take yourself somewhere safe to get some space and be with yourself?”
Charlie tried to respond, but he could feel his mouth quivering, the tears now really threatening to fall. Elle was saying kind things like she would say to a client who paid her as a therapist, things Charlie definitely didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve any credit right now, he had been a shitty friend and had failed as a partner and… “I…” he started, not knowing what to say.
Elle must have caught the look on his face and took his hand again, giving another grounding squeeze. “I’m glad you came here, Charlie. That was a really incredible thing you chose to do for yourself, and I hope you can see it,” she said. “Tell me - what have you been doing since you’ve been here?”
Charlie paused, considering. He’d cried and moped and been miserable, yes, but he’d also done a few things. “It’s been…there have been parts that have been really nice,” Charlie said. He looked out the window. “Nick’s taken me on a few walks round the area and so I’ve gotten to see a bunch of the farms and the animals…” Charlie told Elle all about the last few days, about the goats and neighbours and the muddy excursion with Henry, Elle laughing when Charlie retold that part. After a few minutes, Charlie realised how much he had been talking, getting far too deep into the details and he and Nick’s time together. “It’s been nice,” Charlie said once again, blushing when finally caught onto how long he’d been prattling. “Nick’s been really nice. He’s…I’ve felt a bit more like myself since I’ve been here,” Charlie said quietly.
“That’s good,” Elle said, and Charlie was surprised to see her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I miss yourself.”
Charlie let out a little involuntary gasp, a sharp and shaky inhale. There was so much unspoken in that. Charlie had…he knew he had disappeared, to a degree. From Elle and Tao’s lives, yes, but also in himself. The years with Ben had begotten minute changes in Charlie, annoyances that he tried to fix to keep Ben happy. There had been an iterative reduction in who Charlie had been for years, like wind wearing down sandstone: slow, so slow that it was impossible to see when it was happening. Charlie thought all of this now, recognizing how much of him had been worn away in the last few years. His lip trembled again, and this time he let the tears fall out, dropping heavily into his lap. “I miss me, too,” he said, the last word dissolving into a sob.
Elle took his mug before there was any real danger and set it down, and then pulled Charlie into a long hug, holding him while he cried. “Charlie,” she said, her voice filled with heartbreaking emotion. She let him cry for a moment before speaking again, letting the hitches in his breath settle. “I wish you could see you how I see you. How Tao sees you. You are a wonderful person,” she said quietly, stroking his back. “A friend, a kind friend. You are intelligent and so caring, Charlie. You are so brilliant. I’ve missed seeing you shine. You deserve someone who isn’t so afraid of your brilliance that they do everything to keep you from shining.”
That set Charlie off again, his body wracked with sobs that Elle held him through. As he cried, Charlie felt more open, more raw, Elle’s words hitting him with incredible force and piercing deeply, driving through his chest and cracking into his heart. He’d felt some, yes - since the breakup Charlie had cried endless tears, been in ripping pain. But he also hadn’t truly felt some of the deepest grief. It was the grief of what he had lost before the loss - the loss of himself. And Elle was speaking of him like those were still parts of him - saying he was a kind friend even though he’d disappeared. That he was brilliant.
Ben had never seen Charlie as brilliant. Ben had seen Charlie as a burden. Charlie was the person Ben settled for, and Charlie had endlessly evolved into different versions of himself, trying to find the one that might make Ben happy. In doing that, Charlie had shrunk and sanded and erased parts of himself to fit into the box of what Ben wanted. Charlie…missed who he used to be. The grief and loss and mourning were coursing through him now, making him feel in pain and alive and…like there was something new. Some sort of reset, maybe. Charlie couldn’t quite describe it, but he felt a tiny shift in the world, like a path was opening up in the darkness.
Charlie sniffled and rubbed at his eyes, pulling back from Elle. “Elle,” he started, voice quavering. “I’m so sor-”
“Don’t,” said Elle, quiet and fierce.
“Elle, please,” said Charlie, looking her straight in the eye. “Please let me say something.” Elle pressed her lips together, but nodded. “I’m sorry, Elle. I’m sorry for not telling you what happened with Ben. And for disappearing and being such an awful friend for so long now. You and Tao mean,” here, his voice caught and Elle took his hand. “You mean so much to me,” Charlie continued, his voice trembling. “You’ve been like my family for so long. You’re a part of who I am, and I feel like…” Charlie broke off, not able to say the words without breaking down. I feel like I lost you. I lost so much of myself, and I lost even more when I pulled away from you two.
Elle waited for the storm to pass, holding his hand and touching her other hand to Charlie’s arm. “I need you to understand something,” Elle said, her voice firm and loving, a special tone of hers that was achingly familiar to Charlie after being friends for so long. “I need you to know that my number one priority is that you are safe. My second priority is that you’re happy.” She paused, her inhale a little shaky. “For the last few years, Charlie, it hasn’t seemed like you’ve been happy.”
Charlie opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. Had he been happy? Up until last week, Charlie had felt like his life was on track. Everything was neatly arranged the way it was supposed to be. Charlie had a good job, a flat in Zone 1, a reliable car. He was getting married and his mum was finally soothed, convinced that Charlie had overcome all of his fuckups - with school, with his eating, with dating, you name it. His life was finally orderly, controlled, and what it was supposed to be. After so many years of being a fucking disaster, Charlie was going to have a life that other people would see and nod at approvingly. And Charlie knew he was punching above his weight to be with Ben, with how attractive Ben was and how…well, Charlie didn’t compare. He knew that. Ben knew it, too. Every inch of Charlie had been poured into making himself a better match for Ben. Once he could do that, they’d be content. They’d be happy. Charlie had convinced himself that he’d be happy once Ben was happy.
But Charlie could never make him happy.
The words of protest died in Charlie’s throat as he considered what the last few years had been like. Ben gave him small pieces: tiny, glowing moments of praise and care and gentle touches, moments where Charlie saw how golden his life could be if he could make Ben treat him like that all the time. Charlie tried to figure it out, puzzle out the pieces that made Ben happy. It had never been enough.
“I don’t think you’ve been happy,” Elle repeated. “And Charlie - more than that, I’ve been terrified that you haven’t been safe.”
Charlie looked at her in surprise, authentically startled and confused. “Safe?” he asked. “I mean, we…do you mean, like, physically safe? Because Ben, he never…” Charlie stumbled over his words, the knee-jerk reflex of defending Ben just as strong as it had been for months. “He never hit me. Nothing like that. I’ve been totally safe.”
Elle looked at him with pain in her eyes. “There’s more than just physical safety,” Elle said gently. “There’s emotional safety too.” Elle took a breath and met Charlie’s eyes again, taking his hand once more. “I know Tao and I have seen a bit less of you lately, and-”
“I know,” Charlie said, the icy shame swirling in his stomach. “That’s been my fault, I-”
“Charlie, I’m sure Ben was-”
“No, it was me,” Charlie said, the shame thick and cloying. “I was the one who didn’t call you. I was the one who cancelled plans. I was the one who made those choices, not Ben.”
“Charlie,” Elle said again, looking at Charlie frankly. “Did Ben ever say something about you wanting to spend time with us more than him? Or maybe suggested or said you cared more about us than you did him because you wanted to do something with us? Did he ever tell you that any problems you two had were because of me and Tao? Something we said?” Charlie’s mouth was dry, each thing that Elle said hitting him like a sack of bricks. Charlie had heard all of them. He looked at her, his whole body feeling cold. “It’s a way that people can manipulate their partners, Charlie.”
“But…” Charlie shook his head again, needing Elle to understand that a lot of this was his fault. “I didn’t… I haven’t called you since he called off the wedding,” Charlie said. “That was - that was on me. It wasn’t always him. I could have told you what happened and where I was and how I’ve been and I didn’t,” Charlie said, wiping away an angry tear and looking down, knotting his hands together in his lap, the fingers twisting with the same guilt that was roiling his stomach.
“Hey.” Elle’s voice was soothing, gentle again. Charlie looked up. “I can imagine that if I were you, it would be hard to start talking about whatever happened the night before the wedding. If it were me, I would feel a lot of pressure and worry when I started talking about that, because whatever happened wasn’t just about that single night. I think I would have a hard time talking about it because it would bring up a lot of stories and experiences and it might be hard to try to process all of that at once.” Elle paused and looked at Charlie. “Does any of that resonate with you?”
Charlie blinked back more tears, his chest hurting. God, his amazing friend. His incredible, insightful, thoughtful, caring friend. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else right now, so he just nodded.
Elle nodded too, taking his hand once more. “We don’t need to talk about all of this now,” she said. “Right now, all I care about is you being safe and happy. So,” she said, giving him a little smile. “Checking back in. Are you safe?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, feeling both more jumbled and lighter than he had in days.
“Are you happy?”
Charlie thought of the last almost-week. He’d had some of the most horrendous days of his life, low grinding dark days. Yet he’d also had more moments of joy and happy memories than he had for the last month - walks and breakfasts and cows and snow. And Nick. “I’m…happier,” Charlie said finally. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. Especially now with you two here,” Charlie added. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
“We’ve missed you too.”
“Are you angry?” The question slipped out before Charlie could stop it.
“With you?” Elle asked, already shaking her head. “Never. I’ve been worried, yes. I’ve been sad, too. I missed my friend,” Elle said frankly. “But not angry. Not with you.” The rest of the sentence was left unsaid.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Charlie whispered, truly meaning it.
“I am, too,” Elle said. “I’ll always be here. We both will be.”
-
Later that afternoon, Elle went down to the gazebo to draw. Charlie and Tao went for a walk, Charlie taking Tao on the same path Nick had taken him. Charlie pointed out all of the things that Nick had explained to him, laughing and telling Tao the story of Nick’s cautionary tale of goat woe.
They walked for nearly two hours, talking about hundreds of things that made Charlie’s heart feel like it was bursting with nostalgia, joy, and contentment. Their talk was less intense than the one with Elle. Tao of course railed against Ben, though he didn’t press Charlie for too many details. Mostly they spoke of the things they’d talked about for years - films, music, concerts, the pervasiveness of the Kardashian family on the regular news, everything. The whole conversation felt like home.
Once they got back to Lavender Fields, Charlie suggested they go down to the barn to say hi to the cows, which Charlie had been doing each day. He loved their giant, gentle eyes and the way they pressed their faces against the fence to get pats, totally unabashed in their demand for attention and affection. Tao eventually stormed away once Nick joined them and punned at him aggressively, but Charlie noticed with a twinge of delight that it was a warm storming and yes, there was absolutely a difference. Then it was just Charlie and Nick again, a surprisingly lovely feeling.
“Your friends are great,” Nick said, smiling at Charlie.
“They are, yeah,” Charlie agreed, stroking Henry’s neck and reflecting on just how incredible Elle and Tao were. Charlie was still reeling from his conversation with Elle, feeling like his eyes were open for the first time in weeks. Months, maybe. Years. Beyond that…he was also reeling that they were here. That they cared so much about him that they were here for him, upending their lives and week to track him down and assertively show him how much they cared. Charlie didn’t deserve them. “I’m…I still can’t believe they’re here.”
“Yeah?” asked Nick. Charlie tried to ignore how incredible Nick looked, one elbow against the fence. He just looked so comfortable in his skin. In his life. Or maybe it was just how fucking fit he was; that could have been it, too.
“I kind of…I wasn’t the best friend,” Charlie admitted. It felt harder saying it to Nick than to Elle. “When I was…I’ve been a little more absent for the last couple of years. Elle and Tao were never the biggest fans of Ben, and so we didn’t see them a lot.” And Ben was such a dick about them, Charlie said to himself, the words Elle had said to him still rattling around in his brain. Maybe…maybe there had been an aspect of Ben that was part of Charlie seeing them less. Still, it was Charlie’s fault. He had made those choices. Yet Elle and Tao were still there. “But they still came. I’m…I’m really grateful for them.”
“Well, I think good people find good people,” said Nick with a smile that made Charlie feel both enormous and tiny at the same time. “And they seem like good people. Well…Elle at least. I mean, Tao does too, but he makes me feel like the people at airport security do - like I’ve secretly and accidentally packed something wildly illegal in my bag and he knows about it and is about to bust me.”
Charlie laughed, a bright rise of joy in his chest. He…Charlie remembered that feeling. It was one he had with Elle and Tao hundreds of times, the joy of familiarity, gentle rinsing, and the shared warmth of inside jokes. “He’s a lot more harmless than he looks. And he really does like you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really!” Charlie insisted. “He didn’t call you anything withering to your face, that’s huge!”
“He did call me a numpty,” Nick pointed out.
Charlie fixed him with the long-suffering look of someone who had been friends with Tao Xu for almost a lifetime. “And you think that’s withering? Sack up, Nelson.”
Nick burst out laughing and Charlie glowed at the sound. God, it was magic to hear Nick laugh. It was even more magical how often it happened, how free and generous Nick was with his laugh. “You’re right, you’re right. The demon portrait picture people have called me much worse; I should be tougher by now.”
Charlie shuddered and Nick laughed again. They stayed with the cows for a few more minutes, chatting about the portrait people and hauntings and if Nellie and Henry would turn into portrait cows if they ever died, which Charlie and Nick both firmly agreed was never going to happen as both girls would live forever.
As they went into the house, Charlie reflected on the next few days. He’d have one more night with Elle and Tao, and then they would leave. They’d leave, and Charlie would have just one more night with Nick before Charlie went back to London. One more night, just Charlie and Nick. Nick, who had become something close to a friend during this week.
Charlie thought he would miss Nick after he left Lavender Fields.
Notes:
No LF chapter next Thursday, but there will be a Danny and James chapter! LF to return the following week 🥰
Nigella Lawson has a salted chocolate tart I made over Christmas and it was INCREDIBLE. Here is the recipe, taken directly from her website:
FOR THE BASE
28 oreo cookies (2 x 154g packets)
50 grams dark chocolate (min. 70% cocoa solids)
50 grams soft unsalted butter
½ teaspoon smoked sea salt flakesFOR THE FILLING
100 grams dark chocolate (min. 70% cocoa solids)
25 grams cornflour
60 millilitres full fat milk
500 millilitres double cream
50 grams cocoa (sieved)
2 teaspoons instant espresso powder (or strong instant coffee powder)
75 grams caster sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla paste (or extract)
2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil
¾ teaspoon smoked sea salt flakesFOR THE BASE
Snap the biscuits into pieces and drop them into the bowl of a food processor. Do likewise with the chocolate, then blitz them together until you have crumbs. Add the butter and salt, and blitz again until the mixture starts to clump together. If you’re doing this by hand, bash the biscuits in a freezer bag until they form crumbs, finely chop the chocolate and melt the butter, then mix everything, along with the salt, in a large bowl with a wooden spoon or your hands encased in disposable vinyl gloves.Press into your tart tin and pat down on the bottom and up the sides of the tin with your hands or the back of a spoon, so that the base and sides are evenly lined and smooth. Put into the fridge to chill and harden for at least 1 hour, or 2 hours if your fridge is stacked. I wouldn’t keep it for longer than a day like this as the Oreo crust tends to get too crumbly.
FOR THE FILLING
Finely chop the chocolate. Put the cornflour into a cup and whisk in the milk until smooth.Pour the cream into a heavy-based saucepan into which all the ingredients can fit and be stirred without splashing out of the pan, then add the finely chopped rubble of chocolate, the sieved cocoa (or just sieve it straight in), espresso or instant coffee powder, sugar, vanilla paste or extract, olive oil and smoked salt. Place over a medium to low heat and whisk gently — I use a very small whisk for this, as I’m not aiming to get air in the mixture, I’m just trying to banish any lumpiness — as the cream heats and the chocolate starts melting.
Off the heat, whisk in the cornflour and milk mixture until it, too, is smoothly incorporated, and put the pan back on a low heat. With a wooden spoon, keep stirring until the mixture thickens, which it will do around the 10-minute mark, but be prepared for it to take a few minutes more or less. Take the pan off the heat every so often, still stirring, so that everything melds together, without the cream coming to a boil. When ready, it should be thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon, and if you run your finger through it (across the back of the spoon) the line should stay.
Pour into a wide measuring jug or batter jug (it should come to about the 600ml/2 ½-cup mark). Now run a piece of baking parchment or greaseproof paper under the cold tap, wring it out and place the damp, crumpled piece right on top of the chocolate mixture, then put the jug into the fridge for 15 minutes. The mixture will still be warm, but will be the right temperature to ooze into the base without melting it.
Pour and scrape the mixture into the biscuit-lined flan tin and put back in the fridge overnight. Don’t leave it longer than 24 hours, as the base will start to soften.
Take out of the fridge for 10 minutes before serving, but unmould straight away. Sit the flan tin on top of a large tin or jar and let the ring part fall away, then transfer the dramatically revealed tart to a plate or board. Leave the tin base on.
Slice modestly — this is rich and sweet, and people can always come back for more — and serve with crème fraîche; the sharpness is just right here. Leftovers will keep in the fridge for 4–5 days, but the base will soften and the sides crumble a bit. That will not detract from your eating pleasure too much, but I still like to give it its first outing at optimal stage!
Chapter 35: Charlie's POV: Jolt
Summary:
Charlie and Nick have one last day and night together before Charlie leaves to go back to London FOREVER, never ever ever returning to Lavender Fields again, not once. Ever.
Notes:
Thank you to the darling humans that are waveofyou and NellieSayzBork for their tireless reading and re-reading of so many of my chapters. I appreciate the time and love you put into every piece so much!
CW here for emotional abuse. This and the next epilogue will have some of the heaviest CWs for emotional abuse from Ben to Charlie. Take care of yourself while reading 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie spoke with Elle and Tao late into the night, the three of them piled on Elle and Tao’s bed. The topic of the conversation varied: Elle and Tao asked more questions about Lavender Fields and Charlie’s time there, Tao looking only mildly doubtful when Charlie extolled Nick’s many great qualities. The conversation eventually shifted back to Charlie’s return to London, Elle asking him tentative questions about Ben. It was both like earlier in the evening when they were in the parlour with Nick and a little different. Elle’s questions seemed like they were directive, trying to guide Charlie along a path, questions about Ben that made Charlie anxious. The lightness of the evening slipped away, Charlie finding himself oddly defensive in his answers, apprehensive of following any of those paths to their conclusion. Charlie would feel flashes of frustration at himself when he’d parry the questions or even defend Ben, hating the words even as they were coming out of his mouth.
Wasn’t it your flat first, Charlie? Didn’t you find it?
Well, yeah, but we’re both on the lease now and it’s only fair that he’d be able to…
Whatever happened must have been pretty bad to end things the night before the wedding, Charlie.
I mean, maybe, but I definitely didn’t handle myself well either with it and…
Charlie, what was something Ben did do to help with for the wedding?
He was working a lot, Elle, so it wasn’t really his fault…
Elle eventually backed off, sensing Charlie’s discomfort and the way he drew back into himself with direct questions about Ben, shutting down. Their conversation eventually shifted back to just chatting, the way they had for years and Charlie was able to relax. They kept their voices low like they were trying not to disturb any other guests. Charlie knew it was ridiculous as there was no one else there, but there was a certain lovely innocence to it, like they were back in their childhood homes during a sleepover, keeping their voices down to avoid any parents’ interruptions.
Charlie hadn’t realised just how much he had missed it. He and Elle and Tao talked about work, their lives, mutual friends. They looked up acquaintances from secondary on Facebook, trying to predict what their jobs would be and giggling no matter if they were right or wrong. They had missed each other - all of them had missed each other. Charlie had missed them so much. The three of them had been friends for ages and both Elle and Tao had seen him through some of the roughest stretches in his life. Here they were, showing up for him again. As the hours passed, Charlie felt some of the guilt of not spending much time with them the last few years melt and drop away, Elle reminding him several times that it wasn’t just Charlie's choice that they hadn’t talked. Charlie felt like there was something Elle was hinting at, something that he didn’t want to take a deeper look at. Maybe later. Not now. Not…yet.
So they spoke mostly about other things, about the nearby town and brunch that they’d all do the following Sunday and trips that the three of them would go on that spring and summer. Charlie knew it wasn’t like the trips Ben had promised as a way of appeasing Charlie. These were ones that would actually happen, not empty platitudes that disappeared into smoke as soon as realities of booking and travel set in. They talked about Nick more, too - Charlie could just see the amusement in Elle’s eyes when Charlie inevitably circled back to him again, enthusing about one of his bakes or a joke he had made. Elle clearly knew that Charlie thought Nick was fit, though only anyone not in possession of any of their senses would have not objectively found Nick fit. They laughed over stupid things and all were surprised when they looked over at the clock to see how late it had gotten, Elle shooing Charlie to bed after a hug and telling her they’d see him in the morning.
Charlie went back to his room, happier than he had felt in a long time. He settled into bed, reminiscing on the conversation and the unfamiliar warmth in his chest, one that felt comforting and secure. That feeling was…it was from tonight, yes. But that warmth was also something that had been growing since he had arrived at Lavender Fields. Charlie was really glad he had come to Lavender Fields. He had been so broken when he had come here, utterly bereft and shattered. Charlie had thought that was the lowest point of his life, and maybe it had been. But as Charlie reflected, he thought that maybe he hadn’t felt happiness like this in a long time, even before the night before the wedding. As he lay in his bed, some of Elle’s words echoed in his head.
…he’s not kind to you, Charlie…
…I just want you to be happy and it hasn’t seemed like you have been…
…you deserve someone who will talk about anything with you, even if it’s hard…
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to breathe, the happy feeling gone and replaced with a heavy sense of dread. Dread of what? Charlie couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to find him, the heaviness sitting once again on his chest.
-
Charlie woke up to that same feeling of dread, a grinding weight that seemed to pull at him and try to keep him in bed. He lay there for a moment before heaving himself up, dressing quickly and heading downstairs. Today was Charlie’s last full day at Lavender Fields and he wanted to make the most of it. Despite the way his evening had ended and his morning had begun, Charlie couldn’t help but smile when he went into the kitchen and saw Nick, who greeted him warmly. Charlie couldn’t help but sass Nick, too, giving him a hard time about one of his (endless) puns. Nick was light and easy as he always was, moving easily past Charlie’s awkward conversational moments with reassurance and jokes.
Charlie got himself a coffee (which Nick had already filled, because of course he had) and stood in the kitchen. “How can I help?”
Nick shot him a half-stern look. “You can sit down, that’s how.”
Charlie rolled his eyes, happily ignoring Nick’s remonstration. “Got that out of your system? Good. Now, how can I help?”
Nick’s eyes widened and he laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Fine, pushy guest C. Spring, grab the sultanas and I’ll tell you a cautionary tale about a boy who once tried to put them in before baking the granola - also called The Story of the Boy Who Almost Lost All His Teeth Forever.”
Charlie laughed and started helping, the two of them chatting as they worked. The warmth was back in Charlie’s chest, the same way that it was whenever he was with Nick. The air in the kitchen felt light and comfortable, no threat of silences or a hard glare if Charlie made the wrong joke, gently teased about something that struck an unexpected nerve. Every time Charlie said something, no matter how stupid it was, Nick would respond cheerfully, engaging in conversation. That…that felt so nice. To know that anything Charlie said would be responded to, let alone responded to in kindness. It made Charlie think about meals with Ben, particularly the ones right before the wedding. They hadn’t felt like this.
Breakfast was nice, Tao easily putting away enough food for four people even in a short time. Charlie knew Elle had therapy appointments that day and that she and Tao had to hurry off, Nick waving them all away to say their goodbyes while he cleaned the table.
Tao pulled Charlie into a tight embrace first, followed by Elle. “We’re here for you, anything you need,” Elle murmured against his ear, pulling him even closer for a moment. She pulled back and looked at him. “And we’re here for everything you deserve. You deserve the world, Charlie,” she said, eyes shining.
Charlie pressed his lips together, so filled with amazement that his friends were here and with him. “I love you so much, Elle. And you, Tao. Thank you…thank you for coming. I missed you so much.”
“We missed you too,” said Tao with another long hug. “Brunch Sunday?”
Charlie grinned. They had done brunch on Sundays for ages in their early twenties and it seemed like it was going to start again. “Absolutely,” he said.
Charlie and Tao chatted as Elle paid for their stay, coming back shaking her head and saying that Nick had given them a massive discount. Tao grunted happily, and Charlie felt pleased and surprised and a bit guilty. Nick didn’t need to give his friends discounts. Not when they were there to take care of Charlie, who always needed to be taken care of. He tucked that reminder of his neediness away for later as Elle hugged Nick and said something to him that Charlie couldn’t hear. Charlie was fucking delighted (and shocked) when Tao extended his hand to Nick, giving it a brief shake. Charlie gave Nick a huge, goofy grin, pointing between Tao and Nick, making Nick press his lips together to try to disguise his smile. Charlie trailed after Elle and Tao to the car park and hugged them once more before they pulled away, waving and with Tao leaning on the horn in a few short ‘goodbye’ honks. Charlie waved one last time and headed inside, surprised to see Nick still in the kitchen.
“Feeling okay?” asked Nick, looking at Charlie.
Charlie felt his throat ache a little. Was Nick checking on him? As a friend? Was that why he hadn’t started his chores yet? God, Nick was such a good person. A good, unfairly gorgeous person. “Yes,” said Charlie, meaning it. “I’m still just so amazed that they came.”
Nick gave him that same brilliant smile before busying himself with some chores. “You shouldn’t be,” he said, gathering plates. “They clearly care a lot about you. You deserve that - and you deserve people like them.” Nick headed into the kitchen, leaving Charlie in his wake.
Deserve. There was that word again, the same one that Elle used. What did Charlie deserve? Elle seemed to think he deserved more than he was getting with Ben. And now Nick, too? Charlie felt momentarily overwhelmed by the kindness that had surrounded him for the last few days, staggered mostly by the realisation of how little there had been in the last few years before arriving at Lavender Fields. He felt the prickle of tears and blinked, annoyed with himself. Don’t fuck it up like you always do with your histrionics, Charlie told himself. Nick is being kind and lovely and you are not going to cry in front of him and try to pull him into your bullshit. Again, that is.
By the time Nick returned, Charlie had himself under better control. He took a breath, summoning the sass from that morning that Nick had seemed to enjoy. “So,” Charlie said, trying for a casual tone and thinking he succeeded. “What happens at Lavender Fields on a Friday night? Do Nellie and Henry host some sort of cow nightclub?”
“Yes,” said Nick solemnly. “Hampshire’s finest club - they call it Steerage Section.”
Charlie tried to school his face but couldn’t, laughing out loud and then clapping his hand over his mouth to hide the missing tooth that only showed when he laughed openly like that, the one Ben said he should have gotten fixed before the wedding. “Do you, like, have these written somewhere?”
“No, I think my brain was cursed by the portrait people and now I can’t not think in puns,” said Nick, grinning. “Actually, Fridays are one of the busier days. I’m going to take care of the cows and do a little with the fields, but then I need to run to a bunch of different places today. There are a couple big farmer’s markets around here, and my mum has several people who distribute a bunch of the lavender products; I drop them off every Friday. You’re welcome to come if you want to see the area?”
There was Nick, again. Kind, thoughtful. Acting like Charlie was a friend and not a burden. Charlie smiled back at him, the joy spreading through his chest and burning away any sense of guilt or hesitation. “That would be great, yeah. I’d love to join.”
“Great,” said Nick casually, grinning back at Charlie. He paused and then tilted his head playfully. “Aaaaaand - there’s also a rugby match on tonight that I’m going to watch. You’re welcome to join for that as well.”
Charlie made a face at Nick. “I think I’m busy that day.” He felt a starburst of joy at the way Nick laughed, loud and bright. “Is it - oh, is it your, like - your team? From the league you used to play in?”
“Yes!” said Nick.
“Sure, I’ll try watching a bit,” said Charlie. “You might have to explain, like - all of the rules to me, though. Several times.”
“Happy to do so,” Nick assured him, his eyes gleaming a little.
-
Nick truly seemed to take that directive to heart, chatting the whole way to town later that afternoon about mauls, rucks, scrums, and other things that sounded extremely suggestive in a sport that was already just a bunch of men in tiny shorts wrestling around with each other. Charlie did know a bit more about rugby than he had let on to Nick, but only from his recent Googling. Charlie had been curious about Nick’s team and the players who had come out, so he’d done some searching - for science, of course - and was unsurprised to find that at least aesthetically, he loved rugby. The whole team was outrageously fit, just muscles and brawn and thighs - oh, the thighs. Charlie had quietly saved a few of the pictures on his phone for research purposes for any rugby-themed books he may have to edit someday (he was nothing if not professional) and had enjoyed his scholarly pursuits.
The car ride and trip to town was nice, too. Nick made him laugh and Charlie made Nick laugh, too. It made Charlie feel so happy to make Nick laugh, though he guessed it was nothing special about him. Nick just seemed that type, light and happy and carefree. Nick invited Charlie to connect his phone to the aux cord in the old truck and Charlie put on a song that he thought Nick might like, frantically queueing up songs to play next. Charlie snuck glances at Nick’s face for clues, always ready to switch the song if Nick looked annoyed or like he wasn’t enjoying himself but he always did, even periodically pausing in his rugby soliloquy to compliment Charlie on a song.
Charlie really loved it when Nick complimented him.
At one point, Charlie put on one of his favourite CHVRCHES songs and got into it, drumming along with the beat and bobbing his head to the music.
“Do you play music?” Nick asked, glancing over at Charlie’s hands.
Charlie tapped out another beat, pleased to finally have something good to share with Nick, something that wasn’t one of the many deficient parts of himself. “I do!”
“Well?” said Nick, raising his eyebrows and grinning at him in mock-impatience. “What do you play?”
Charlie tapped out a few rhythms on the dash of the truck. “The drums,” he said with another smile. “That’s honestly been the only bad part of being here - being at the inn. Not having my drumset with me. I usually play for at least a few minutes a day, it’s been odd to not do that every day.”
“Do you have, like - a full drum set? In your flat?”
“No, not anymore,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “I haven’t had a full drum set since I was at home; I have an electronic one that I can use with headphones. Less passive aggressive comments from the neighbours that way, you know?” He grinned at Nick, still bobbing his head. In an instant, Nick’s face turned into Ben’s, and Charlie could hear the words he’d heard before.
God, can you stop for one fucking second, Charlie?
Charlie, cut it out.
Charlie, I’m being nice and driving us, can you not be annoying for one minute?
Charlie felt a sudden swoop of regret, the bright flare of joy swallowed by inky darkness. He stopped his hands and pulled them into his lap. “I’ll stop though if it annoys you.”
Charlie thought he saw Nick’s hands tighten on the wheel for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was kind. “It doesn’t,” Nick assured Charlie with a glowing look. “I think that’s so cool! You play the drums - wow. That’s really cool.”
“Yeah?” The brightness flared back in Charlie’s chest, burning through the dark.
“Yes.” Nick’s voice was certain.
“Oh,” said Charlie quietly, not able to take the smile off his face. He closed his eyes and let himself get back into the music, drumming softly again and catching the soft smile on Nick’s face, his head bouncing along in time to the beat, too.
Nick darted in and out of stores and shops in town, ignoring Charlie’s offers to help. Charlie would have insisted, but it was bloody freezing outside. Charlie had limits, and they were all above fifteen degrees. Instead, he stayed in the truck and had a new song for Nick cued up for each short drive. He pondered if there was anything he could do beyond music to make Nick’s chores easier, only to have Nick buy them sandwiches at the last stop and hand one to him, like Charlie was doing him a favour by coming along. On the way back, Nick offered to take Charlie on a route that went past some alpacas, a detour that came replete with a truly shocking amount of alpaca puns. Maybe Nick was right that he had been cursed by a witch, it truly didn’t seem reasonable for one person’s brain to contain that much ungulate-based humour.
Charlie pretended to be annoyed by it, but it was just one of those things that made Nick so fun. Nick was nothing like anyone else Charlie had ever met - someone with the appearance of an “alpha male” yet possessed one of the kindest and most open hearts Charlie had come across. And beyond that, he really was fun. He was funny and kind and god, Charlie was wishing that there were more men like Nick in the world as they bumped down a washed-out road that sent the truck juddering over each bump. Charlie was clutching at the hand-hold above the door when a massive dip in the road caused the truck to jolt, Charlie lurching towards Nick and grabbing at his arm, which flew out and caught Charlie across the chest, holding him onto the seat.
“Sorry,” said Nick breathily, hitting the brake hard and stopping the truck. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither,” said Charlie, laughing a little unsteadily. Nick had thrown his arm across Charlie. That shouldn’t have made Charlie feel as good as he did. It was the feeling of Nick’s strong arm on him, yes. God, Charlie would die to have those arms on him in another capacity. But it was also the sense that putting out an arm to take care of Charlie was Nick’s first instinct.
“You right?” asked Nick, looking at Charlie like the answer mattered.
“Yes,” said Charlie, feeling the flush down his neck. “Totally good.”
“Good,” said Nick, taking a breath before starting the truck again.
Once back at the house, Charlie excused himself while Nick did some chores, reflecting on the moment in the truck. He showered and laid on the bed in his room, going over the moment in his mind again and again.
Nick’s first inclination was to help, protect, reach out. Ben’s had always been to turn away, physically and emotionally. When there was trouble, Ben escaped, withdrew, and set up walls. He closed himself in and off, worried about his own protection and security over anyone else’s. That would never change, Charlie considered with a heavy feeling. No matter if Charlie could make Ben happy or act correctly and not piss him off in the way he always did, Ben still would have his patterns, the ones that felt so starkly different to Nick’s.
Maybe…maybe Elle was right, Charlie thought, staring at the ceiling. Maybe Charlie shouldn’t be with Ben. Maybe even if Ben did apologise and maybe if he did own up to being a prick ahead of the wedding…maybe Charlie didn’t have to go back to Ben. Maybe it was actually Charlie’s decision, not Ben granting Charlie another chance to try to do better. Maybe Charlie might deserve someone more like Nick, someone who responded to everything he said and acted like it mattered, even if Charlie was just chatting about nonsense anyway.
Charlie snorted into the quiet air. And maybe Charlie could dream on. He was a middling man in the dating world, he knew. He and Ben had this joke with each other, that Charlie was a five to Ben’s nine. Ben had made jokes about that, always saying that Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5” song was about them, just in reverse order. “We’re a 5 to 9,” he’d say, grinning at Charlie when he’d say it. Charlie would laugh along, so desperate for connection and an inside joke guaranteed to make Ben smile that he barely minded that it was at his expense. And really, Ben had been joking. It had been lighthearted. Mean-spirited a bit, yes, but all in jest and fun.
Hadn’t it?
Charlie closed his eyes and pulled one of the pillows over his face, pulling it against his skin as though he could stop the images of this week from crowding his brain. Charlie thought of the laughs he’d shared with Nick, the ones where they’d gently ribbed one another, Charlie rolling his eyes at Nick’s puns but authentically enjoying them. He thought of Nick threatening to add a 6% Lavender Fields sassiness surcharge, the two of them giggling about that. The jokes with Nick always seemed to be together - laughing at some silly thing, sometimes one another, but both of them authentically laughing together. It felt so…different. There was no “5 to 9” joking with Nick, no open acknowledgement that Nick was far too attractive, interesting, and cool to hang out with Charlie if Charlie hadn’t literally been paying him. It was all true, but Nick at least hadn’t felt compelled to say it.
Charlie rolled to his side, hugging the pillow into his body. Tonight would be his last night at Lavender Fields. He had been trying to not think about it all day, the fact that tomorrow he’d leave this place that felt like a safe, warm cocoon by this point. To think, a week ago Charlie had been so anxious about walking in, and now he hated the idea of leaving.
Charlie really did feel better, easily miles better compared to when he arrived. He was so comfortable, safe, and secure, almost entirely at ease, at least when he was around Nick’s casual energy. To be honest, Charlie was probably feeling better than he had in weeks. Months. Maybe years. It was a combination of things, Charlie was sure. He was away from work and away from all the drudgery of normal life, here in the vibrancy of fields and cows and fresh air and not surrounded by the cold metal and damp stone of London. It was getting to reconnect with Elle and Tao, too, the three of them back together in a way that felt like putting on an old, familiar sweater, cosy and right.
It was all of that…but it was Nick, too. It was meeting someone who reminded Charlie that there were people in the world who weren’t like Ben. It was getting to spend time with someone who treated him like a human, like a person who mattered and not an obligation. Charlie quite literally was an obligation for Nick, but Nick had never let that show in his words or actions. Nick had been kind and thoughtful, actually listening to Charlie and responding to what he said.
God, the lucky fucking woman who got to actually be with Nick Nelson.
Charlie literally couldn’t imagine that - what it would be like to be with someone like that. Nick also seemed to be a caricature, what an amateur romance author would dream up as the perfect male protagonist, with no cracks, weaknesses, or flaws. In fact, he might be critiqued as overly perfect, just so caring and easy-going and thoughtful and carefree. Charlie imagined Nick with a faceless woman, opening doors and making her laugh and doing little, unexpectedly kind things for her.
Charlie knew that he wasn’t going to end up with a Nick. Charlie already had a smaller pool as a gay man, a condensed group of people to muddle through and pick from. Well, maybe not even pick from. Charlie knew that he had been out of his league with Ben, and that Charlie wasn’t attractive enough to get to “pick” someone. Ben had made sure Charlie understood that, and Charlie definitely did. Charlie would settle for who he got. It wasn’t going to be a Nick for Charlie. Maybe, though…maybe he could be with someone different to Ben. Someone with a few of Nick’s qualities. Someone who he could have a laugh with, and not at himself. Someone who was nice, and kind. Someone who liked being with Charlie. Honestly, Charlie would settle for someone tall, really. It wouldn’t be a Nick, but maybe Charlie could have someone like Nick.
Then again, Charlie was only a five.
-
Later that evening, Charlie joined Nick for the match, making a show of steeling himself like it was the ultimate hardship that he had to spend two hours with Nick Nelson. Nick for his part greeted Charlie enthusiastically, firing off pub quiz questions at Charlie, of which Charlie got at least two right.
Nick made a predictably delicious dinner of nachos using sweet potatoes as the base, an unexpected and amazing option that Charlie had never thought of. Okay, maybe Charlie could add good cook and creative to his dream man list. God, Nick was truly problematic as a character, one that would be critiqued for his infallibility. They ate casually, plates on their laps, though Charlie watched in mild alarm as Nick’s plate teetered dangerously a few times, threatening to spill every time Nick gesticulated wildly, which was literally all the time.
Charlie gave him some gentle ribbing, feeling safe to gently poke fun at Nick in ways he never had been with Ben. “You’ll be a good coach,” said Charlie at the half…time? The…break? (Charlie still didn’t know the vernacular. He did know “thighs”, however.) “Though your players might throttle you for talking the whole time.”
“Low blow, C. Spring,” said Nick, laughing and making Charlie grin too. Then he turned to look at Charlie, his face looking soft and happy. “You remembered I was coaching though?”
“Of course,” said Charlie, puzzled why Nick would think he had forgotten. Charlie didn’t think it would be possible to forget a thing that Nick Nelson said to him. “You’re going back next season, right? So that would mean you’re here until…” He trailed off, trying hard to remember when the season ended, Nick giving him a comedically withering look. One of the quiz questions Charlie had gotten wrong just an hour before was, “What months does the Premiership season go from?”
Nick shook his head in manufactured disappointment before answering with a smile. “August. I’ll leave here at the start of August to get back for all of the coaching meetings before the season starts again and for training and all that.”
“Will you miss it?” asked Charlie. He had been thinking about missing Lavender Fields all day, he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to leave this place after a full year.
“I think I will,” said Nick, clearing his throat. “I really think I will. It’s been so much work.” Charlie’s heart picked up, wondering if this was the moment where Nick would finally admit how trying it was to have guests like Charlie, ones who tried to attach to Nick’s life like a barnacle. “Not with you - not like, at all.” Charlie gave a half a grin, not truly buying it but appreciating the effort. “But this summer and then the early fall it was full up nearly every day. There were anywhere from six to twelve people at the table every meal. So yeah, it’s sometimes exhausting,” he said. “On the other hand, though. It’s gorgeous. It’s peaceful and interesting. And I get to meet some pretty great people.” Nick grinned at Charlie, and Charlie felt his whole chest swell.
Charlie wanted to tell Nick how great he was, too, but felt inexplicably shy, turning to humour instead. “Like Tao?”
“Exactly,” said Nick laughing and flipping a decorative pillow at Charlie. “So yeah, I’ll definitely miss it.”
God, Charlie was going to miss it here. He was going to miss the soft creaks of the old house, the startling quiet, the gorgeous sunsets. He’d miss Nellie and Henry, and Nick too. He’d miss it all. “I’m going to miss it here, too,” Charlie said, the words slipping out before he could catch them.
“You will?” Nick asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, meaning it. He wanted to tell Nick how wonderful Nick had been and how great he had made this could-have-been-awful stay, steeling himself. “It’s been - it’s beautiful here. The food’s been amazing, the bed is so soft, the view of the fields is incredible, and then you’ve been - oh! Oh my GOD. Is that you?!” Charlie had been about to toe his foot off the cliff and try to authentically compliment Nick when he noticed another Nick, a slightly younger (and mind-blowingly even more buff than the one in front of him) one on the screen recommending some pain relief cream.
Nick got closer to the screen, peering intently and shaking his head. “Hmm, nope. Doesn’t ring a bell. Handsome guy, though. Some might say the handsomest boy in the whole wide world?”
Charlie grinned. The tips of Nick’s ears were red. Okay, maybe Nick wasn’t quite as cool as he seemed to be all the time. “Is that what Sarah tells you?” asked Charlie, making Nick snort with laughter and launch into a story of the makeup chair and how he demanded the artist tell him what contouring was.
“I wanted my jawline to pop, Charlie,” explained Nick, concluding the anecdote. “Stop - stop laughing Charlie! Oh. The match is on again. Shhh, no more laughing or talking of this ever again.” Charlie laughed, feeling light and happy. The silence stretched for at least four seconds before Nick burst out into play analysis again, sometimes even reenacting plays to show Charlie how it should have been done. Charlie had no idea what to expect from his first rugby match viewing, and he was pleasantly surprised at how much he enjoyed it. It might have been the conversation, yes, or the giant men in tiny shorts, but regardless, he enjoyed himself.
After the match ended, Nick and Charlie headed to the kitchen to take in the plates, Charlie glancing at the clock to see it was already half-nine. He hadn’t packed and Nick probably wanted some alone time, but Charlie wasn’t quite ready for their time together to end. He’d rarely, if ever, felt so comfortable with someone he had just met. Charlie found himself dawdling, jumping when Nick invited him to have some tea in front of the fire in the parlour. Charlie felt the smile grow across his face, not able to control it.
“I’d love to,” Charlie said, and Nick smiled back at him like he actually did want Charlie there. Nick shooed him off from helping with either the tea or the fire and told him to just relax in the parlour, which Charlie reluctantly did.
Nick came back a few minutes later, handing Charlie a mug and settling down. For a few moments, the only sound was of the crackling fire. Charlie hadn’t had a night like this, well…ever, maybe. He hadn’t ever had a quiet evening with tea and someone who felt like a close friend in front of a fire in a secluded bed and breakfast tucked away in the south of England. Here, Charlie had been largely away from the world, able to hide from the emails, the phone calls, the shame of what had happened. A tiny part of him had almost forgotten what had happened, at least temporarily, during the moments with Nick, Elle and Tao, Henry and Nellie, the town, the truck, the meals together. Charlie had gotten to live in this fantasy world where everything was gentle and quiet, where Ben was far away and Charlie didn’t have to think about what he would do when Ben returned. Charlie liked this world, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Tomorrow, he’d be immersed in the cold water of reality again, lifetimes away from this quiet, cosy moment.
Nick was staying quiet, sipping at his tea and glancing occasionally at Charlie, who finally broke the silence. “It’s going to be strange to be back,” he said quietly. “Back in London, I mean.” Nick nodded and looked at him, his eyes on Charlie like he wanted him to go on. It was…that was nice. Charlie took a breath and did, letting the words spill out, awkward and imperfect. “I mean, going back to work and all that, yeah, but going, like back back. To the flat. My flat? Our flat? I don’t even…I don’t even know what to call it.” Great, Charlie, bring up Ben again. The last night before you leave, burden Nick with your man problems again; gorgeous straight boys love that. He chanced a glance over at Nick to see how horrified he might look, though Nick looked…thoughtful, maybe, instead.
“I remember that feeling…” Nick began, and Charlie’s ears perked up. He really knew nothing of Nick’s personal life. “I remember when my last relationship ended. We had lived together, too. I know that feeling. Like - this place that had been one thing for so long feeling so completely different.” Charlie nodded along, understanding that sentiment all too well. “That was - it’s like going up a staircase and you miss a step, right? You expect one thing that you’re so used to and then it’s this…jolt.” Charlie looked intently at Nick, the impossibly perfect protagonist. Here, the author made another mistake, that a rough-and-tumble rugby lad could describe such a nuanced feeling so perfectly, summarising eloquently how unsteady Charlie was feeling.
“What - what ended it?” Charlie asked tentatively, wanting to open the door to Nick talking without making Nick felt like he was prying. Ben hated that, when Charlie pried. “If you - only if you want to talk-”
“There was no big, like, thing,” Nick said, leaning forward and knitting his hands together, the firelight making them look like they were aglow. “We just didn’t…fit. Or, no - that’s not quite it. She was - Marla. Marla’s a nice person. But we spent a lot of our time apart, you know?” Ah, there was both the name and the grim confirmation that Nick was indeed straight. Charlie had known he was, statistically speaking, but there was the final nail in the queer coffin. “I was travelling with the team a lot during the season, and she did sports PR. It - it felt like it made sense to get together, you know?” Nick looked at Charlie and Charlie nodded for Nick to go on. “And it was, like, fine when we were together. Good. But…when we were together, the TV would be on a lot. Or our phones would be out. And that’s fine sometimes, too, right? But I felt like - I don’t know, I just didn’t feel connected sometimes. And the worst part was that neither one of us seemed to worry that we weren’t connected. We looked good together in pictures for pressers, we both ran in the same circles - like, it made sense. But it didn’t feel…” Nick let his words trail off, eyebrows slightly furrowed together. “I’ve told you about Danny and James, right?”
“A little,” said Charlie. He had been fascinated about Nick’s teammates in his Googling, not only because James was one of the most handsome men Charlie had ever laid eyes on, present company excluded. “I actually looked up some stuff after you mentioned them because I was interested in them being the first players to come out in professional rugby.” Charlie felt the heat burn in his cheeks, admitting that he had looked them up online.
“I’m glad you did,” said Nick with a smile, immediately making Charlie relax again. “I’m really proud of our team and how everything happened.” Charlie nodded. From what he had read, the team had been supportive, despite the inevitable media fallout. “But yeah, Danny and James - I’d see them together and I just realised how…different it was for them. Like - they listened to each other. I feel like Marla and I never did that. At least not like those two do.” To his horror, Charlie felt the burn of tears in his throat. He knew that feeling acutely, how fucking affirming and wonderful it felt to be listened to. Nick had made him realise that, even just on his trip to Lavender Fields. “No relationship is perfect and no one has that whole butterfly feeling forever, but those two showed me like - what I was missing? That you could be with someone that wasn’t just, like, there. Someone who was an authentic partner. I don’t think Marla and I were ever that for each other.”
Charlie pressed his lips together and looked down, trying to keep his tears at bay. Unfortunately, Nick seemed to notice immediately, opening his mouth like he was going to apologise - apologise to Charlie, which felt ridiculous and alien. Charlie waved him off before he could start, taking a breath and explaining why it hit him so hard without getting too personal. “No, sorry, this is - just…That kind of sounds like Elle and Tao, too. And how I’ve felt about them before…” That was true. It was just also true that Charlie had never had something like that. “I know comparing relationships isn’t super helpful. But seeing them, and then seeing the way Ben…” Charlie pressed his lips together again, both to stop the trembling and to stop him from telling Nick how Nick made Charlie feel at least a shade of what that could be like. What other people might be like as partners. Kind partners who made him feel… He took a deep breath and steadied himself, wanting to shift the conversation. “But yeah. Gays on a rugby team, huh?”
Nick smiled at him and seemed to relax too, probably relieved that Charlie wasn’t crying. Again. Though maybe Nick would have liked how Charlie could bring down electricity costs at Lavender Fields by providing his own hydroelectric power. “Yep, gays on a rugby team,” Nick said with a laugh, shaking his head like he was thinking of his teammates. “Then like I mentioned, and like you probably saw when you Googled it, a few other players ended up coming out, either privately to Danny and James or some of their teammates, and some publicly, too.”
“You said the team was good, right?” Charlie knew they had been (or so it sounded), but there was something so amazing at hearing a straight rugby lad like Nick be at ease with queer teammates.
Nick nodded. “The best, save one. It was just like - pretty much anyone else’s relationship. They kept it professional in the locker room and all that but then at parties, they were the same as everyone else - getting rinsed for their PDA, those handsy motherfuckers.”
Charlie laughed before he could stop it, surprised. He wasn’t sure he’d heard Nick swear much before. He grinned, body filled with pleasant heat to have Nick talk so normatively about men dating. “It’s…it’s nice that you’re not weirded out by, like, talking about men dating other men. A lot of straight guys are.”
“Yeah,” Nick said with a half-laugh, not his usual one at all. Fuck, maybe Charlie had embarrassed him. “Yeah, no, god, there is almost nothing I can be weirded out by, now. Not after all I’ve seen - and heard - with those two. Hotel room walls are only so thick, you know? Well, and then Amy has also tainted heterosexual love with everything she’s told me about dating, and literally nothing is worse than that.”
Ah. Amy. Current girlfriend, maybe? One hadn’t come up, but who knew. “Amy?” asked Charlie, trying to make answering the question sound optional.
“Team physio - one of my closest friends; we talk weekly, along with a lot of the guys from the team,” said Nick with a smile, pulling out his phone and scrolling through to find a picture. “She and Seamus and Tex and I are all really close with Danny and James.”
Fuck, they were all so fit, Charlie mused. He shook his head, taking in all of the gorgeous humans in the picture, Nick absolutely one of them. “Jesus,” said Charlie, feeling a little looser with the knowledge that he was leaving tomorrow. “Is everyone in Premiership ridiculously attractive?”
“You must be talking about James, huh?” Nick said with a laugh. “Or I guess Tex is a tall drink of water, too. And Amy, yeah I guess, and-”
“All of you,” said Charlie, raising an eyebrow. Surely Nick had to know what he looked like, right? Like…he had seen mirrors? “But…yeah. It’s just nice that you and the team are fine talking about men dating men. And like, how that feels.” Charlie sat with that for a moment. Ben had dated men and had never once been comfortable talking to Charlie about his feelings. About anything. “Some men who date men can’t even do that.” Charlie punctuated this with a bitter laugh, the sound sitting heavy in the air.
Nick opened his mouth like he was going to speak and then paused before he did, hesitating. “How do you feel…about seeing him?” Nick finally asked, voice quiet.
Fuck. There it was. There was one of the questions that Elle had been asking him, one that Charlie had been asking himself. Charlie pulled his cup closer to his chest and stepped his feet in, tucking his arms tighter to his body and curling over towards the steam still rising off his cup. “I don’t know,” Charlie whispered. “I really don’t.” Charlie wanted to keep looking down, to hide in himself, but forced himself to meet Nick’s eyes. He didn’t know why it felt easier to talk to Nick about this than even Elle, but it did. “He was…he was pretty awful that night before,” Charlie admitted in one of the baldest admissions that he’d let out about Ben, having become well-practised at keeping them hidden. “The one before the wedding, when he called it all off. And then I came here and he called - and I was expecting him to apologise.” Charlie laughed hollowly, even though nothing about it felt funny. “That…didn’t happen.”
Nick didn’t look like he was judging Charlie the way that he deserved to be judged. He looked…sympathetic? No, that might have been the wrong word. Empathetic, maybe. More concern and less pity. “That night before - was it a…was it an argument? Did something happen?”
Charlie gripped himself, hands tight and tense on his arm muscles like he could ward off the memories if he protected himself. “It was…yeah. I brought something up that had happened that had upset me. A thing - a thing about the wedding that was really important to me.” Like my brother being in the wedding pictures. Not that he could tell Nick that. The shame was still too intense, too nakedly horrifying to admit that that was the type of person Charlie was going to marry. And the type of person that Charlie still fucking inexplicably felt attached to, someone he had chosen to spend years with. “And god, I even like - I wrote down what I wanted to say. Because I wanted to say it and not get emotional and see if maybe that helped him hear me. Then Ben - Ben said that it was me, doing the same thing. Being over-dramatic and expecting everything to be exactly like I wanted it. He said that I wanted too much.”
“Too much?” asked Nick, his voice tight.
Charlie nodded, a tiny movement more to himself than Nick. Too much. Charlie had heard that accusation over and over. “He said that during the whole wedding planning, I’ve wanted too much. I wanted an engagement ring when he proposed, and he said that we’d just do bands and that I didn’t need an engagement ring, too, and that I was just being needy. And then I wanted to have a wedding by the sea, and he said that was too much of a hassle, so we didn’t. I had wanted to have an engagement party to celebrate with our friends and stuff, but he said that was attention-seeking and so we didn’t.” Every sentence was underlined in his brain with a visceral memory, visions of Ben telling him that he was too demanding, too clingy, too obsessive, too everything.
“Oh, Charlie,” Nick said, his voice sounding pained. Charlie couldn’t meet his eyes.
“And I’ve like - I see what he’s saying,” Charlie went on. The cork was out of the bottle now, the words spilling out like wine blossoming over a carpet, blood-red. “Sometimes I worry I am too much. Like, I want too much. I feel like - yeah, I can be dramatic, maybe? So every time, I tried to catch myself.” Charlie knew he was too emotional, too dramatic. His mum had told him that growing up. “We didn’t do engagement rings, and we didn’t do the seaside wedding, and we didn’t do the engagement party, and then with this-” Charlie caught himself before it was all out. He paused and sighed “I feel like I tried to change what I wanted so many times. I’d always ask myself if it was that big of a deal and then try to like, save my opinions for when it really mattered to me. So this time, when it did really matter to me, I stood my ground, and he…” Charlie stopped again, the pain of saying the words aloud making him physically ache. Charlie had made himself smaller and smaller, and when he finally fought back, even a little, Ben made him pay. That…that wasn’t how Charlie wanted to feel. He knew he was flawed and not what he should be. But Charlie also guessed that there might be people out there - people even like Nick - who didn’t tell their partner that every day.
Charlie’s throat worked as the words pressed up, trying to push their way out. “I don’t think I want to be with someone who treats me like that,” he said, the words catching on the emotion that threatened to spill over. God, Charlie had never said that about Ben before, and there was a physical, palpable release that accompanied the words. Charlie sat with that for a moment before it ebbed, leaving behind the cold fear that had been hidden underneath. “I’m scared though that…” Charlie fought it, not wanting to burden Nick, but the words pushed through again. “There’s already like…a smaller pool when you’re gay. So…what if I do want too much? What if there’s not enough that like - anyone can offer? What if it’s me, not him?”
Charlie closed his eyes and dropped his head, the heaviness threatening to pull him away and drown him. He jumped when he felt a hand on his knee, opening his eyes wide to see it was Nick’s hand, warm and grounding. Charlie slowly let his eyes travel up to Nick’s face, Nick’s hand still firmly holding him on the earth. “Charlie,” said Nick, looking directly at Charlie. “There is enough. So ask for more.”
Charlie felt like he had been shoved in the chest, the words hitting him like a mass of bricks. There is enough, so ask for more. Charlie didn’t know if he had ever heard something so profound and simple and staggering. There is enough. Was there? For Charlie, even? Could Charlie ask for more? Could he ask for things he didn’t deserve? Charlie closed his eyes and tried to drink Nick’s words into his body, every one of them spreading out like a warm blossom through his chest. He breathed through his nose, trying to come up with a way to respond to Nick. There was so much Charlie could tell Nick - how grateful he was. How broken Charlie had felt when he arrived at Lavender Fields, only to have Nick treat him like a whole person. Charlie could tell Nick how Nick had already made him feel like more. Charlie opened his mouth to speak, not even knowing what he might say.
“Nick. I…”
At that moment, Nick’s phone buzzed, making both Nick and Charlie jump. Charlie glanced down at Nick’s phone - not really meaning to, but it was right there. The name said Maple Syrup Monster (which almost made Charlie smile) and the picture looked like the woman in the group photo Nick had just shown him, though in this picture she seemed to be passed out at a bottomless brunch. Charlie liked that energy. “Is that your friend Amy you were talking about calling?”
“How’d you guess?” Nick said with a forced-sounding chuckle, though Charlie was sure he was probably just relieved for the intense moment to have passed.
The call stopped and another one immediately started, again from Amy. Charlie half-grinned. “Are you going to answer that?”
“I probably have to,” sighed Nick. “This lot will call forever.” He answered his phone and Charlie started to shift forward to get off the sofa and give Nick some privacy, startled when Nick put the call on speaker like it was for Charlie’s benefit. “Hello?”
“WE WON, YOU SPECKLED OLD BALLSACK!”
Charlie’s eyes widened in amused surprise and he bit back a laugh. Nick rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“Hi, Danny.”
The call was overwhelming and hilarious, a cacophony of rugby voices sounding like they were crowded around the phone and battling for Nick’s attention, largely by way of puns. Nick grinned at Charlie periodically throughout the call, yet another seismic shift for Charlie that left him feeling pleasantly unsteady. Ben had valued his privacy, stepping away for calls and disliking it intensely when Charlie even glanced at his phone. Here was Nick, just…sharing his life with Charlie, like it was the easiest thing in the world. There is enough, so ask for more. Maybe Charlie could find a partner who was more…open. Gentle. Kind. More like Nick.
There was a round of wholesome “I love you”s and Nick finally hung up, shaking his head and laughing. “They seem great,” Charlie said, smiling at Nick.
“They are,” Nick assured him, looking at his lock screen fondly. “I miss them.”
“I see why,” Charlie responded. God, he was going to miss Nick. He was going to miss chatting to Nick and the way Nick made every room feel brighter. He was going to miss that a lot. Charlie glanced at the clock, realising with a start that he was leaving in less than twelve hours. The hours with Nick had flown by, the day passing in a brilliant, lovely blur. He made his excuse and got up, wishing Nick a goodnight.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Nick softly before Charlie left, and Charlie didn’t know how two stupid words could make his whole throat ache.
-
Charlie stayed up packing, then slept hard, exhausted from the emotion of the evening and two late nights in a row without much sleep the one before. He got up early and headed down into the kitchen to find Nick already busily baking. Charlie noted with delight that Nick had made a quiche with sundried tomatoes, which he loved. That was part of the magic of Lavender Fields, he guessed, that beautiful synchronicity of Nick making one of his favourite things on the morning he left.
Both he and Nick were fairly quiet at breakfast, though they chatted a little about the rugby match from the night before and a few other mundane things, Charlie studiously avoiding talking about being home in London, or about Ben.
When it came time to pay, Nick was an absolute arse who refused to charge him a fair price, insisting that Charlie should only pay half since his “party” was smaller than expected. Charlie rolled his eyes and demanded he be allowed to pay the full amount, feeling like the “Take my money!” meme. Still, Nick had been steadfast. A few minutes later, both Nick and Charlie stood in the car park, Charlie’s bags in the car and both of their feet shifting on the crushed shell drive.
Charlie had no idea what to say, how to thank Nick. How was a person supposed to thank someone who had taken them in and reminded them that there were people in the world beyond Tao and Elle who were generous and caring? How could Charlie thank someone who reminded him what kindness looked like? How could Charlie even begin to appreciate what Nick had done for him? Charlie thought of what he could say, and decided to say it as simply as he could.
“I’m glad I came,” Charlie said, smiling at Nick shyly.
“I’m glad you did, too,” Nick replied, smiling back at Charlie. There was a frozen moment where Charlie tried to figure out the right physical move to thank and say goodbye to someone who had changed his life when Nick opened his arms, Charlie blinking in gratified surprise. He opened his own and they moved together into an embrace, the hug not long enough by about nineteen minutes and fifty-eight seconds. Nick released him and stepped back, clearing his throat.
“Charlie, remember that you…you deserve more. Better. Make sure you get what you deserve, okay?”
God, Nick Nelson would have killed him with his stupid storybook perfection had he stayed at Lavender Fields, Charlie thought, sucking in an inhale. He nodded, the words settling into his body, words that Charlie would take with him back to London. There was so much Charlie could say to Nick, but none of it was necessary. Instead, he said what he needed to. “Thank you, Nick.”
Nick nodded and Charlie got in the car, feeling an odd sense of dread as he clicked in his seatbelt. Charlie waved one last time to Nick, Nick’s expression looking a lot jauntier than Charlie felt at the moment.
And with that, Charlie drove away from Lavender Fields and Nick Nelson forever.
Notes:
Next week (February 8) is a Danny & James week, then the next two (February 15 and February 22) are Lavender Fields weeks!
If you’re ever going to a party and need a dish to bring, whipped ricotta is amazingly delicious and looks super impressive while requiring almost no work. It’s one of my favorites!
Whipped Ricotta
Ingredients:
Ricotta, any fat content
Sea salt
Black pepper
Some sort of spicy jam/jelly and/or olive oil and/or almonds (I like chopped Marcona almonds)
Olive oilPut the ricotta in a large bowl and use an electric hand or standing mixer to whip the ricotta until it’s light and fluffy. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Pile the ricotta on a serving plate and then drizzle lightly with olive oil and some additional flaky sea salt and pepper. You can serve it like that, but I like to top it with a spicy jam (pineapple habanero and blueberry jalapeno are some examples of ones that I like) as well. If you want to add a bit of crunch, top with chopped Marcona almonds. Serve with whatever you like to dip into it!
Chapter 36: Charlie's POV: Choice
Summary:
Charlie goes back to London. Ben returns. Charlie and Nick get back in contact.
Notes:
Oh waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, you beautiful perfectly peeled kiwi fruits. Actually, kiwis make my mouth kind of itchy. Oh, waveofyou and NSB, you efficiently sliced pineapple that maximizes the amount of fruit and minimizes what is lost in the cutting process. You two are magic and wonder embodied.
A few incredibly lovely gifts this week:
Siska updated their gorgeous photo of Danny and James and I forgot to post it on last week’s chapter! 🤩😍🥰 Siska, your talent and love for these boys is so wonderful amazing and melts me!Chescr wrote an incredible poem based on Lavender Fields. Thank you for this lovely gift, friend 😍
AuntieLala has made magic by collecting the Lavender Fields recipes and turned them into ACTUAL RECIPE BOOK PAGES. They’ve been gracious and lovely enough to collect them here to share!
Finally not finally, benwvatt has created a truly incredible gift with this collection of LF-inspired pieces. I can't actually put into words how special this is and how touched I am at the collection of people who have made pieces that spiral off of Lavender Fields. Thank you to everyone who had contributed and HUGE thank you to benwvatt.
This is one of the closest looks we get at Charlie and Ben’s relationship and there is a definite CW for emotional abuse. Take care of yourself!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie drove back to London, the greens and rich colours of Hampshire melding into the greys of concrete once he got on the motorway, a jarring transition. As he drove, Charlie could feel the lightness he had finally begun to tap into fading, replaced by anticipatory heaviness: of unreturned emails, of work, of Ben, of conversations that Charlie needed to have. He could feel that drag pulling him, threatening to steal away the fragile joy that he’d been able to construct. It was buoyed a bit, though, a tiny smile on his face every time he thought of Nick. Nick, and all of the memories that Charlie had gotten to enjoy with him that previous week.
If Charlie hadn’t been an inside-out banana peel of a ripped-open heart, he probably would have been too overwhelmed to have even spoken to Nick with how gorgeous he was. Now that Charlie had a little space (and had worked through the first week of his life as he knew it ending), he could fully appreciate how fit Nick was - and on a scale of one through fit, Nick was an eleven point fucking FIT. Charlie wondered if he’d ever be able to speak to someone like Nick again if he wasn’t going through a massive breakup, so divorced from his feelings that he could look at someone so shockingly and cluelessly hot in the eye.
Charlie drove towards the car park where he stored his Golf in Zone 2 and parked, getting on the train. He’d have loved to have a place to park in London, but there was only one spot and Ben had wanted it, needing it for his job. Charlie hadn’t seen him drive much, but Ben had wanted it all the same. He sat on the tube, listening to the same playlist that he had made for Nick for the trip to town, smiling as he thought about the tiny jokes and laughs that they had shared along the ride. The flame of happy memory burned in his chest, making the trip feel much shorter than it had in the opposite direction, when Charlie had travelled in misery on the way to Lavender Fields.
Charlie swung open the door to the flat - His flat? Their flat? - and stood at the threshold for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the familiar scene. It was all the same - the same sofa that Ben brought over (Charlie’s was in storage), the same photographs, the same neatly organised bookshelf. It was all so familiar but felt entirely new after a week somewhere else, somewhere that had started to feel like a second type of home, almost. Charlie stepped inside and caught the scent of the flat, the mixture of a sandalwood candle, air freshener, and the lightest notes of both his and Ben’s fragrances that they used. Charlie took a breath in and was instantly hit with a sudden wave of the last time he was in this flat, the night before what would have been their wedding.
Ben had dropped it so casually, a tacked-on postscript after the conversation he and Charlie just had about wedding-day logistics for the following morning. “I don’t want Olly in the groomsman pictures,” Ben said, only briefly glancing up from whatever he was typing on his phone. “I want those to have a mature look to them and they won’t look right with a teenager in them.”
Charlie had looked up from his computer, where he’d been dashing off endless emails to guests and vendors, cleaning up various threads and answering questions. Charlie had been looking forward to closing his computer and letting himself actually get excited. “He - what? Do you mean have one that you take without him with the other groomsmen?”
“No,” Ben said, eyes back on his phone. “I don’t want him in any of them. Not the groomsman ones with my friends, it’ll look bizarre to have a kid in them.”
Charlie felt his brain narrow in, trying to sort sense out of confusion. “You don’t want my brother in the groomsmen pictures? Even though he’s one of our groomsmen?”
“He can take pictures with your family.” Ben glanced up for a moment and gave Charlie a tolerant smile, like that was an incredible gift he was providing.
Charlie’s body had felt taut for weeks, anxious about the wedding and about Ben and about so many things. He could feel himself tightening and coiling in on himself, all of his muscles tensing. His voice hardened a little, to a tone he knew that Ben wouldn’t like, had never liked. “Why can’t Olly be in our pictures, Ben?”
Ben put his phone down entirely now and looked at Charlie impatiently. “Charlie, you saw the school photos your mum sent along. His skin looks awful right now and no amount of makeup or editing is going to cover that. Our wedding photos will last forever,” he said, giving Charlie the smile that he knew usually melted Charlie, the one that made him look kind. The one that made him look like he cared about their future. “Do you really want a spotty red teenager in them?”
Charlie had been utterly staggered, nearly frozen in shock, hurt, confusion, anger. He could faintly taste metal in his mouth, he had -
Charlie jumped, standing there in his flat after leaving Lavender Fields, startled by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen - it was Elle.
“Hey Elle.”
“Hey Charlie - I just wanted to check. Are you at your flat?”
“Yeah, I am. Just got here, actually.”
“How are you feeling?”
Oh, god, Elle, careful what you ask unless you’re ready for ten thousand jumbled words with no semblance of order to them yet. “I’m…okay. Just…remembering. It’s odd to be back.”
Elle hummed. “I can understand that for sure. Do you want us to come over?”
“No, I’ll be all right tonight,” Charlie responded. He didn’t know if it was actually true, but he wasn’t up for talking, afraid of what might come out if the dam broke.
“Only if you’re sure,” Elle said. “Talk more at brunch tomorrow?”
Charlie felt a little warmth steal back into his chest, replacing the cold that had seeped in since he had driven away from Lavender Fields. “Yeah,” he said, smiling slightly. “Talk tomorrow.” He hung up the phone and looked around again, back in the moment and trying to breathe the memories away. Tomorrow. He would think more about it tomorrow.
-
Brunch was nice, Charlie delighted when their other friends Darcy and Tara joined them too, a little surprise that Elle had cooked up. They must have decided ahead of time to not discuss Ben or the wedding at all, as his four friends determinedly avoided his name, despite some veiled questions about how Charlie was doing. The five of them talked and laughed and drank too many mimosas, Charlie feeling fuzzy and happy when he hugged all of them goodbye, making plans to have dinner with Elle and Tao that Wednesday. It felt like old times, and it felt wonderful.
Charlie had a chance to catch up with his family once he sobered up, too - Tori and Michael, as well as Olly (and his parents by way of Olly). Each conversation had a completely different feel to it. Tori had been unsurprisingly frank.
“Fuck Ben.” That was how she answered the phone, and had become her chorus throughout the conversation with Charlie. “Seriously. I love you but I fucking hate him, Charlie. I’ve not liked him the whole time.”
“I know,” Charlie said quietly. It had been unspoken but clear for the last few years, Charlie looking down at his plate or away when he could feel Tori’s eyes on him after some small, minimising remark at a family dinner.
“I’ll help you move out,” she said. There was a pause. “And you know how much I detest physical movement, so you know this is a real offer.”
Charlie let out a soft laugh at that, telling her that she would be one of the first that he called if he did decide to move out. That was the first time that Charlie had said it out loud - that he might move out, and even just saying it sent an odd thrill through his stomach. The swirl felt both like excitement and anxiety, and Charlie wasn’t sure what to think about that. They spoke for a while more, Charlie still not ready to tell Tori the full story of what happened. He half-worried about Tori’s internet searches being discovered if he did, guessing that “undetectable poisons” might crop up in her history. They ended with tentative plans to see one another, Tori promising Charlie that she was going to utterly destroy him at Mario Kart when they did, Charlie scoffing and telling her that he had recently had a lot of practice.
Olly was characteristically thrilled to hear from Charlie, answering the phone with a series of excited greetings and questions. His eagerness only grew as Charlie caught him up on the past week, voice reaching levels only detectable by professional sound engineers.
“Nick?!” Olly repeated for probably the third time. “You stayed in an inn run by Nick Nelson?” Charlie felt a little shiver go down his back unbidden. Nick’s voice was so lovely, the first and last name indescribably pleasing when placed together. “Did you play rugby? Did he talk about the Badgers? What was his favourite match he ever played in? Did he…”
Charlie answered the questions of Olly that he could, with Olly nearly dissolving when Charlie told him that he and Nick had watched a “full-arse” rugby match together. That was nothing compared to when Charlie told him about the cows, practically hearing Olly’s soul leave his body.
“You hung out with Nick Nelson and cows?! Tell me all about them! What were they? Jersey? Hereford? Galloway? Guernsey?”
“Uh…white,” said Charlie. “And brown?”
“Charlie.” He could hear the disappointed sigh in Olly’s voice and laughed.
“I’ll find out for you, I promise,” said Charlie. He realised that he hadn’t gotten any pictures of the cows at all and made a mental note to look at the Lavender Fields website later to send some to Olly.
Charlie’s mum had been less effusive than Olly, of course, once Olly had reluctantly handed Charlie over.
“Are you well?” Jane asked, her voice stiff and full of hard edges. That was what his mum had felt like his whole life, a combination of sharp elbows and joints that made hugs feel perfunctory and performative rather than soft and real.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Charlie said, immediately on guard.
“Well,” said his mother, a long pause hanging between them on the phone. “We just want you to be happy, Charlie.” There was another pause and Charlie blinked, startled. “Whatever that looks like.”
Charlie inhaled, and then stopped. That was…coming from his mum, that was affirming, despite her clipped tone. Almost kind. Wow, Charlie thought distantly. Nick Nelson’s niceness must be spreading throughout all of south England. They spoke a bit longer, one of the least stilted conversations that Charlie and his mum had ever had, though Charlie studiously avoided sharing anything about the wedding and she didn’t push. He hung up feeling better about things than before. Before the breakup, yes, but also maybe…before that, too. Without Ben and now past some of the worst of the pain, a tiny but insistent part of Charlie started to wonder what life might be like would Ben in it at all.
-
All that week, Charlie felt a sense of normalcy returning, bit by bit. He went back to work, answered emails, returned vendor calls, and caught up with some friends and family. Nothing from Ben, though. He hadn’t heard from Ben since he was at Lavender Fields. There were still endless twists of the knife, tiny sharp moments that felt like they pierced into his grief and sent it flowing out again. Still, as the days passed, Charlie started to realise some of the truth of the stupid platitude that, “time heals all”, something he had heard from a few of his well-meaning friends in their messages after he had sent the wedding cancellation email.
Sure, Charlie had thought at the time, imagining himself nodding politely and extending both of his middle fingers to every one of those people. That idea seemed like bullshit when he was in the worst throes of mourning, the first few days when Charlie felt like his entire world was knocked off its axis and threatening to fling him off into an endless abyss of dark numbness and despair. Yet it had seemed to lessen, the pain that was once acute turning into something like a dull ache, a tooth that only hurt when Charlie bit down on it. And those bites still happened, every time a vendor gave him an empathetic apology when telling him they couldn’t return their deposit or when a friend inquired about the reason the wedding had been called off. They were less and less now though, spread further apart and leaving Charlie less wrecked afterwards.
It was getting easier to live life without Ben, too. Charlie came home from work on Monday and just…relaxed. He read, he caught up with some friends and colleagues, he took a bath, he cooked a meal that he liked just for himself. Charlie spent the evening just…comfortable. It was an odd and unfamiliar kind of comfort, feeling almost as if Charlie was spending time in his childhood bedroom. He was in a physical location that was so familiar to him, knowing every inch of the space, but the energy was completely new. As an adult, Charlie could walk into his childhood room and reminisce on all of the moments he recalled - the highs and lows, the moments he had cried on his bed - and look at that time with new wisdom. It felt like that now, the Charlie he was now looking back on this place he had shared with Ben with new eyes, understanding that he felt entirely different without Ben, though he knew that would change as soon as Ben returned. Without him, Charlie could feel that he was less on edge. More alone. Happier and sadder at the same time.
But one feeling missing was the physically painful longing for Ben he had felt right after the wedding was called off - that intense pain had started to ebb, a strange absence of mourning that Charlie could feel. The night after the wedding was called off and the first few days at Lavender Fields, Charlie had lay on his bed and sobbed, terrified that he would lose Ben and desperate to have what he had back. Charlie had cried about his - fiance? ex-fiance? partner? - wondering how unlovable he must be for Ben to want to escape to France for literal weeks. As the days had passed, the loss and grief began to feel less acute and Charlie had felt more…he wasn’t quite sure what the right word was. Expansive, maybe? It felt like Charlie had more space now, space where he could reflect on Ben instead of just missing him. That reflection had given Charlie a chance to start to look at what it had been like with Ben, and how different Charlie felt being away from him. How much easier it was day to day, even though Charlie held anxieties about being lonely in the future.
On Tuesday night, Charlie took another bath, lingering in the hot water and reflecting on how even as the jar of Ben’s absence grew lighter, his memories of Lavender Fields were just as vivid, his heart wistful and fond thinking about his time there. Charlie had even dreamed about the inn a couple of the nights since he had been home, including one just the night before. He had been down at the barn with the cows and there were goats on top of the house. Nick was laughing and shaking his head, repeating to Charlie over and over that goats really were dicks and that maybe Charlie would finally believe him now. Charlie had turned in the dream to smile at Nick and say something back, the smile actually on his face when his alarm woke him up, his heart sinking when he realised that Nick was miles away.
Charlie would love to talk to Nick again.
In the bath, Charlie closed his eyes and played through the memories at Lavender Fields, a loop he had played over and over. He remembered the fields and his conversations with Nick, the delicious smell of anything that Nick happened to be baking. Charlie thought about the cows, their giant heads rubbing against his chest and making him stagger back, laughing. He remembered the trip in the truck to town and coming back, Nick throwing his arm across Charlie’s chest. The memories always started that way, but then sometimes took a turn into fantasy. Sometimes Nick’s arm across his chest led to the two of them looking at one another, staring. Fantasy Nick would bite his lower lip, pulling it against his teeth, then slowly leaning forward. Fantasy Charlie - the one with hair that fell just so - he would lean forward too, mouth getting closer and closer and…
Charlie really should get some pictures of the cows. For Olly. He had looked on the website but there hadn’t been any pictures of the girls. Charlie went to unstopper the tub and got out, towelling off and thinking about Lavender Fields again. He could ask Nick for pictures of the cows, Nick was so kind that he would probably say yes. The little thrill that shot through his stomach at that thought one hundred percent has nothing to do with the idea of talking to Nick again, definitely not.
-
The next few days passed, a few bright moments popping up among the weeds that Charlie found himself in, trying to sort out what his life looked like now. It wasn’t all bad, just…different. It got darker at night when Charlie blinked tears away and imagined life alone. The words from the last night with Ben echoed around his head and in the darkest hours Charlie clutched onto threads of hope that Ben might come back and apologise and change. He might come back and love Charlie the way Charlie had always craved. He might come back and provide evidence that Charlie was worthy of love. Those nights were awful, the ones where Charlie alternately missed and hated Ben, then spiralled, thinking about how Ben had been right. How there might not be anyone who would put up with Charlie.
Still, the good moments felt brighter, like when Charlie went to lunch with his friend Anita from work on Tuesday, telling her a bit about Lavender Fields. Anita nearly salivated as Charlie described how good Nick’s cooking was, painting the air trying to describe how delicious and gorgeous his dishes were. They ended up ordering dessert as Anita said not ordering it after Charlie’s descriptions would have been a form of edging, which made Charlie snort into his iced tea. He told her about the inn and Anita sighed happily, saying that it sounded dreamy. Charlie had to agree. There were parts of Lavender Fields that were very dreamy.
On Tuesday night, Olly messaged and Charlie snorted when he read it.
Olly: gimme cows
Charlie looked at the contact number for Lavender Fields on the website for a long time.
Wednesday was nice, too, with dinner at Elle and Tao’s. Charlie told them a bit more about the wedding cancellation, getting into the logistics, both of them empathising. For Elle, that looked like thoughtful questions, affirmations, and head nods. For Tao, it was a lot of muttered oaths around Ben being “really comfortable on the bottom rung of the arsehole ladder”, and “a dicknozzle”. Charlie brought a dessert over from the grocery store, a pale imitation of the scones Nick had made one morning. Charlie had dreamed about them for days and found the closest approximation that he could, but they didn’t compare.
Charlie hadn’t really realised that he had brought up Nick a few times until Tao rolled his eyes and told Charlie that if he wanted to hear about a retired rugby player, he’d watch 100 Streets (which Tao assured him was a very funny joke for someone who knew cinema). Elle tried to suppress her smile and asked if Charlie had spoken to Nick since he had left, Charlie saying he had not.
“Well, why not?” Elle asked.
Charlie sputtered. “We’re not…we’re not, like, friends,” he said. “I was just a guest.”
“Yeah,” said Tao, shaking his head at Charlie. “Most innkeepers take their guests to town and introduce them to their cows and go on wordplay-filled walks with them.”
Charlie blushed. “That was just…”
Elle smiled at him. “He seemed really nice. He seemed like he was a really great person to chat with, too. What’s wrong with making more friends?”
Charlie had just mumbled something and looked away, feeling the tips of his ears burn pink.
That night, he looked at the Lavender Fields number again.
On Thursday, Charlie dawdled over his computer during slow periods as he worked from home, tabbing between the Lavender Fields contact page and a “Leeds Badgers 2021” Google image search, which just happened to bring up several pictures of Nick Nelson running down the field, ball tucked under his arm. Nick was so much more than rugby and being incredibly fucking fit, but it didn’t hurt that he was also good at doing and being both of those things. Looking at pictures of Nick was nice, but what Charlie wanted - what he truly wanted - was to talk to Nick again. Nick was so easy to talk to, so kind. He was friendly, fun, giving. He made Charlie feel good about himself. Charlie really, really didn’t want to imagine never talking to Nick again.
And he needed to get the pictures for Olly, too. He needed to do that for Olly. Olly, who had gone through some tough bullying this year at school about his skin and how much he loved animals. Olly, who was the sweet brother that Charlie would protect with his life. Olly, who Charlie learned he could be brave for. Charlie should do whatever he could to make Olly happy.
That afternoon, work had slowed considerably. Charlie looked at his phone, at the Lavender Fields website. He could call Nick and ask for pictures. Nick wouldn’t let out a heavy sigh when he looked at his phone. He wouldn’t let the silence dangle when he picked up the phone, forcing Charlie to explain why he called in a way that wouldn’t annoy Nick or make him angry. Nick wouldn’t make Charlie feel tiny and stupid for asking for a picture of a cow. Charlie didn’t need to worry about that. That wasn’t…Nick.
Charlie went back and forth for twenty minutes, locked in an internal argument, the phone number already cued up, ready for Charlie to tap the “Call” button. He wasn’t going to do it. He should. He wanted to. He wanted to chuck his phone out of the window. Charlie took a huge breath, tapped Call, and squeezed his eyes shut with his heart hammering against his ribs.
“Lavender Fields, this is Nick?”
Charlie forced himself to unfreeze, hearing Nick’s friendly voice again.“Oh, um, hi! This is…Charlie? From a few days ago?” He was suddenly and desperately aware that he might have built up the experience at Lavender Fields far beyond what Nick had thought it to be. Maybe Nick wouldn’t even be able to put a face with the name, Charlie’s face a blurry and unmemorable one in a long line of people Nick had met. “Do you…do you remember me?”
Nick let out an easy laugh, one that didn’t sound like it was at Charlie. “Of course I do,” he said, and Charlie’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. “All right?”
“Yeah, all right,” said Charlie, unable to keep the smile off his face. It almost sounded like Nick was glad to hear from him. “This is so stupid. I’m not sure if I told you, but I have a younger brother - a much younger brother. A ‘blessed surprise’ you might call him.” He and Tori had delighted in that, Olly always lovingly annoyed. “He’s in year eleven and is setting himself up to study to be a large animal vet and is absolutely obsessed with animals.”
“Even more than you?” Charlie thought he could hear the smile in Nick’s voice.
“Way more,” Charlie laughed, then paused, not wanting to burden Nick with too much like he had at Lavender Fields. “Olly - sorry, his name is Oliver - he’s had a rough go for a couple of months, so anything I can do to make him happy, well - I like to do. And he keeps asking about the cows you had and I think he didn’t actually believe that I was hanging out with cows for a week.”
Nick’s voice was cheeky when he replied. “Did you not tell him about the incredible owner you also hung out with for a week? The one with excellent puns and the best food ever?”
Charlie paused and hummed, pretending to consider. The smile was plastered on his face. “Excellent puns, hm? I don’t recall anyone at Lavender Fields who fit that description.”
Nick was laughing. “Oi!”
Charlie laughed too. “But anyway - yes, I know this is ridiculous, but would you be able to send me some pictures of Henry and Nellie? I feel so stupid that I didn’t take any pictures of myself with them when I was there…”
“Don’t talk to my friend Charlie like that,” said Nick.
Oh. Oh? Did…what? Friend? Was that…did Charlie get scolded? Were they friends? Was this a joke? That seemed like a nice joke though. “Oh…I mean-”
Nick spoke quickly at first. “Oh, sorry, I was just kidding.” He paused, then it sounded like there was a smile in his voice. “But seriously. Don’t call my friend Charlie dumb.”
Oh. It was just…a nice joke. A way of joking that wasn’t mean to anyone. Charlie smiled again, so pleased to have been called Nick’s friend. “Anyway - um, I mean - would you mind sending me one? Like just whatever you have in your phone, if you have any?”
Nick scoffed. “‘If I have any’. My phone memory is like 66% bovine at this point.”
Charlie laughed again. God, he loved talking to Nick again. How did Nick make it feel so easy and comfortable? “Well, yeah, that would be great.”
“Actually, give me a second,” said Nick, sounding like he was on the move. He asked Charlie about Olly’s coursework, just tiny lovely questions that shouldn’t have made Charlie feel as happy as they did. Charlie told him that Olly was a massive Badgers fan and laughed when Nick pretended that he was going to charge Charlie for a fan call.
When Charlie’s phone buzzed, he pulled his phone away from his ear to look and gasped at the picture that Nick sent, one of Nellie bathed in incredible light, the same sunset light that was streaming in from outside his window. “Oh my god, Nellie! She looks so adorable! That light is amazing.”
“Let me take a few more,” said Nick, and Charlie’s phone buzzed over and over, with pictures of Henry and Henry and Nellie together coming in.
“Oh my god, Nick, he is going to die,” said Charlie, looking at the pictures. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” said Nick. There was a pause. “How’s…everything?”
Oh. Ben. He was asking about Ben. “It’s…all right,” said Charlie, some of the breezy joy from Nick’s voice slipping away as the presence of Ben edged into the conversation. “It’s still just, um, me. In the flat, I mean. He - Ben hasn’t come back yet.”
“Oh. Well. Good. I mean, not good - but…”
“No, I know what you mean,” said Charlie, agreeing. It was…good. There was a lot more than that, actually - there was good and bad and terrible and hard and better and so much more. That wasn’t something he needed to burden Nick with, either. “But seriously - thank you for the pictures. Olly is going to love them.” He made his voice a little cheeky. “He is a little obsessed with you.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” asked Nick breezily.
Charlie laughed. “Clearly fame has gone to your head.” He could have spoken to Nick for ages, but he didn’t want to keep Nick. Even just hearing his voice had made Charlie’s whole life feel brighter and more vivid. “Well - thanks again, Nick. I hope you have a good night.”
“You too, Charlie,” said Nick, Charlie drinking in every last word he might hear from Nick, with no more excuses to call.
“Um - well, bye,” said Charlie, suddenly shy.
“Bye,” replied Nick.
That night, Charlie dreamed of Lavender Fields again.
-
Friday passed slowly, Charlie acutely aware that the weekend was coming. That was normally nice, but this weekend, Elle and Tao were out of town. That meant it would just be Charlie that weekend. Charlie, alone with his brain. Charlie, alone in the flat without work or the hope of talking to Nick Nelson again to distract him. Charlie, dealing with vendors and friends and figuring out what to do with his life now that his relationship was upended.
Charlie was staring off at a picture of him and Ben, the two of them standing next to one another. Ben had his chin up, looking confident and attractive. Charlie looked awed, amazed that he was standing next to Ben. That was how Charlie had felt for most of their relationship - shocked that Ben had chosen him. Ben hadn’t done much to dissuade that. In fact, that had been a firm facet of their relationship, established canon for them. Ben was better. Charlie was who he settled for.
Charlie felt the darkness pull at the back of his mind again, his belly cold and pulled in. He looked down when his phone buzzed, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw the name LF Nick show up on his phone, the number that he had saved when Nick sent him pictures yesterday. It was a picture of Henry trying to eat Nick’s hair, and Charlie laughed out loud.
LF Nick: Is this what they call hair moo-use?
Charlie laughed again, holding his phone with both hands and pulling it to his chest. Nick was messaging him?! He bolted up a moment later, sending an 😂 emoji, then responding.
cfspring: wow. I thought hearing these SPOKEN aloud were bad
LF Nick: This is my dream, do you know how many puns you have to SEE written to make them really work?!
Charlie laughed again. God, Nick was so funny. And he had…he had seen that picture and thought of Charlie? That was… Charlie shook his head and grinned, typing out another message.
cfspring: new phone who dis
LF Nick: Haha. Ewe know you love a farm pun.
Oh my god, this man. Charlie quickly Googled “farm animal puns” and scanned until he found one that he could figure out how to fit into conversation.
cfspring: nicholas…
cfspring: i hope you feel sheep-ish
LF Nick: CHARLIE YES
Charlie laughed hard, imagining Nick’s eyes widening. He smiled and started typing again.
cfspring: lol Charlie no
LF Nick: Too late. You’re one of us now.
cfspring: i take it back!
cfspring: that picture though, i can’t
He really couldn’t. It was so fucking cute. The Google images had been good, but this actual, real picture of Nick was far better. Nick was so incredibly attractive.
cfspring: olly is going to die
(Charlie was going to die.)
cfspring: i had no idea he was such a rugby fan honestly
They continued chatting over the next few weeks, and from then on, Nick and Charlie just…talked. It was a message here and there every so often, Charlie’s heart seizing every time he messaged Nick first, terrified that he was annoying Nick. Nick responded every time and nearly always right away. It felt a bit like messaging with Elle or Tara or Darcy - easy and light. Though to be fair, Charlie’s heart didn’t leap into his ribs and he didn’t quite literally dive for his phone the same way one of them messaged him as when Nick’s name showed on his lock screen. It felt entirely different than messages from Ben. Those had made Charlie’s heart flutter too, especially in the early days where they had messaged in secret, Ben telling Charlie that no one could know about them at first.
Speaking of Ben, he had been messaging a bit, too. Charlie realised at one point that the messages from Ben didn’t prompt the same response as the ones from Nick did. Charlie responded to the ones from Nick right away, the two of them cracking jokes and a certain one of them making endless and awful puns (no names given, of course). The ones from Ben sent a surge of emotions through his chest, a strange mixture that made Charlie feel sick to his stomach. Nerves, hope, sadness, lust, anger, longing - Charlie didn’t know how he could still have those feelings of wanting. How could he still have those stomach-lurching feelings of wanting, being able to see Ben in a new, harshly illuminating light? To be fair, though, the wanting was fading, replaced by the heavy weight of knowing.
Charlie had started to know more. There had been a friend who had reached out, tentatively asking if Ben had been sleeping around and that was what had ended Charlie and Ben’s relationship. Conversations with that friend had brought up that they, and perhaps several mutual friends, had suspicions that Ben might have cheated on Charlie, something that made Charlie feel more numb than devastated, oddly. Charlie had dully reflected on how Ben would often like to go out with “just his friends” at least a night a week and always kept his phone private, his notifications only showing up on his Apple watch. That had been one of the harder days, the one where Charlie felt empty and tiny again, walking to a health clinic to get tested for STIs, his hands shoved in the pockets of his coat and neck bent against the bitter wind.
As the next few weeks passed, the hard moments stayed hard, but the hard moments spread themselves out, too. Charlie was starting to see what life was like without Ben, what life alone was like. What he discovered was that he wasn’t fully alone. He might not have been with Ben, but Charlie had Elle and Tao, Darcy and Tara. He had Anita at work and several other work friends he loved. Charlie had Olly and Tori and Michael and his parents, at least on their good days. And somehow, through some magic, he had Nick, too. They spoke every day now, and Charlie couldn’t fight the smile on his face when he received a message from Nick. He couldn’t fight the fantasies that breathed into his mind at night, either, the ones that pictured a husky-voiced Nick knocking softly on his Lavender Fields door and then sliding into bed with him, sliding his hands over Charlie. Not that Charlie wanted to fight those fantasies.
The weeks had been hard and good and different and normal and then, four weeks after Charlie returned from Lavender Fields, Ben messaged.
Ben ♥️: I’m back.
Ben ♥️: Where are you
Charlie stared at it, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. Ben was…back. Ben was back, and he was asking where Charlie was. Charlie could feel his palms growing clammy, his breath picking up. This was…it. Ben was back. Charlie had lived in a strange limbo for the last month, not knowing if he was single or a boyfriend or engaged or what he was. It felt strange to wonder and worry about those things alone, when all of them had to do with another person.
Part of Charlie had started to heal, deep wounds that were still tender but had closed. Ben’s message ripped pieces of Charlie back open, the fear and anxiety pooling inside of him. There was anger, too, fresh new anger that Charlie had finally been able to recognise and experience. It was anger for what Ben had put him through, both the night of the wedding and since then, nearly falling radio silent. There were other things too - longing and missing Ben and the guilt for how Charlie had finally driven Ben away, and the fear that bordered on knowledge, the knowingness that Charlie might be alone forever.
Maybe that was the root of it, the root of the tiny surge of hope flickering in Charlie as he stared at Ben’s message. Maybe this would be it. Maybe this would be love. Maybe this time, Ben would apologise and mean it, and be the things that Charlie knew he could be, the pieces of the sensitive boy that was underneath the surface, the one that Charlie had gotten glimpses of and fallen in love with. Maybe Ben could find himself again, could change. Maybe Charlie could be someone worth changing for.
Charlie messaged back that he was at the flat and Ben “Like”d his message. Unbidden, Charlie’s mind pictured his message thread with Nick, Nick ❤️ing Charlie’s messages, never using the Like reaction. It made Charlie feel warm and pleasantly fuzzy every time it happened.
Charlie’s anxiety built for thirty minutes until the door swung open and he caught a glimpse of the man he shared a flat with. It was the man he had spent the last three years with, both secretly and then, finally, amazingly out in the open together with. Charlie had thought he was the luckiest person in the world when Ben had told Charlie they could go public, knowing that it was the sign of a Ben to come, the one who would follow through on the loving promises he made in bed, the one who would touch Charlie’s hair the way he did when they watched a movie at home out in a bar some time. That was the Ben Charlie kept waiting for, the Ben who might not ever be effusive about Charlie, but he’d be loving, in his own way.
That Ben had never shown up.
As Ben came in and dropped his keys on the counter (right next to the bowl Charlie had put out a year ago, patiently asking Ben many times to put your keys in the bowl, please, it’s right there), Charlie felt another flash like the one he had felt the night he walked into the flat after returning from Lavender Fields.
“He’s my brother! He’s…” Charlie had been nearly incoherent with shock and something else, the heat of it nearly choking him and leaving him unable to speak. “I need to have my family there, he’s one of the most important people to me!”
“Aren’t I important?” Ben shot back. “I’m telling you what I need and what would make me happy, Charlie!”
“This isn’t about you!” said Charlie loudly, the heat searing under his skin again. “This is about me! My family! My brother! It’s about making you happy? This has all been about making you happy, Ben! I have compromised on everything. On everything. A beach wedding, rings, an engagement party…Ben, name one thing we’ve decided on that was for me!”
Ben’s voice was low, dangerous. “This whole fucking wedding is for you,” he said, a thousand unsaid things in his short sentence. “It’s all for you because it’s all you fucking talked about and hinted at for a year. You were the one who wanted to get married to me.” He looked at Charlie coldly, and Charlie could almost hear his own heart thumping, feeling dizzy and shaky. “You know you’re marrying up,” Ben said, his eyes on Charlie. “You’re settling for wedding stuff because I’m settling for you.”
There it was, the blow to the chest that hurt all the more because of how true it was. Charlie was the five to Ben’s nine. Charlie was the man who had somehow snagged Ben, pulled him in and knew he needed to do anything he could to keep Ben in his life. They both knew that. Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Ben rolled his eyes. “We can talk about this once you’ve calmed down. Why don’t you go for a walk or do one of your meditation things so you can be less crazy right now and-”
Charlie knew he was on thin ice, but the heat - the anger - rose again and he barrelled forward, pushing past the hurt and the knowledge that Ben was settling for him. “We won’t,” Charlie said emphatically, surprising even himself that he was continuing to push. “I’m not settling for this, Ben. I’m not. Not for Olly.”
There was a moment of silence before Ben raised his chin, his handsome face empty of anything but anger and defiance. “Then I’m not settling for you,” he said, voice like cold steel. “Email everyone. Tell them the wedding’s off because of you. I can’t deal with this,” Ben said, the words hissing out. “I can’t deal with you any more. Good luck finding someone that will.” He got up, stalking towards the bedroom, maybe to get a bag. He looked back at Charlie. “But no one’s going to. No one’s going to deal with you. You’re not worth it, Charlie.”
Charlie blinked and reeled back to the present. Ben was giving him a patronising little smile, the one that he used when he’d accused Charlie of having a tantrum, making Charlie feel regretful and stupid. “Are you ready to talk now?” asked Ben. His voice was light and teasing, but Charlie immediately bristled. If he was a dog, every hackle would be up right now. It wasn’t going to be an apology, then. No tender embrace. No telling Charlie that he missed him. No flowers, explanation, nothing changed. Just patterns. Always, the same patterns.
“Talk about what, Ben?” asked Charlie. He looked into Ben’s eyes, feeling distinctly unsettled by the presence of another person in this flat where it had been just him for nearly a month. “Talk about you not wanting Olly at the wedding? The wedding being cancelled? Or about you disappearing to France?” Charlie was shocked by how calm his voice was, even though his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, Charlie feeling nearly sick with adrenaline. “Do you want to talk about how I had to send emails to everyone and figure out everything with the vendors for the last five weeks? Or do you want to talk about what we are now?”
Ben rolled his eyes, the flirty little smile off his face, shaking his head like he knew Charlie was going to be hysterical like this. “We’re a couple,” he said placatingly, his voice oily. “We’re a couple who are going to talk about all of that.” Ben schooled his face and nodded, pulling his eyebrows into a sympathetic look. “It sounds like you had to deal with a lot with the wedding stuff, I appreciate that. That must have been a lot for you.”
“Don’t,” said Charlie through clenched teeth, surprised by the sudden surge of unfamiliar fury and entirely unsure on how to handle it. “Don’t come back and pretend like you cared about how the last five weeks have gone for me when I’ve barely heard a word from you.”
Ben inhaled through his nostrils, immediately snippy. “Don’t get short with me,” he snapped. “God, I knew you were going to be like this. Listen, Charlie, I’m trying to be the bigger person,” Ben said, raising his chin and looking down at Charlie in the way that Charlie had never truly seen until right now. “I could have left you. Maybe I should have.” He said that coolly, practically dangling the words in front of Charlie. “I could have stayed in France.”
“France,” said Charlie, the word bitter and flat on his tongue. “Where you always said you were too busy for us to go together.”
“What the fuck, Charlie, is this all about you right now?” Ben demanded.
“It hasn’t been,” Charlie said back, mouth tight. “Nothing has been about me. This has been about you for so long, Ben. It’s been about what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” repeated Ben, his voice dripping with derision and sarcasm. “What I wanted was for you to stop fucking whinging, so I said I’d marry you. That’s what you wanted, always going on about it, thinking you were so clever and dropping little hints when you were so pathetic and transparent…”
“I thought that was what I wanted,” said Charlie, heart throwing itself against his ribs. He felt heady and terrified and unable to stop himself. “But to do that, to make you want to marry me, I had to change everything about me. I had to try to become what you wanted me to be.” Charlie shook his head, his throat suddenly feeling tight. There is enough, so ask for more. “I…I shouldn’t have to change myself for my husband. Boyfriend. Fiance.”
Ben looked at him, false sympathy on his face that masked searing, hot anger. “You think someone would take you like you are?” When he spoke, his words dripped with pity, with the disappointment that he had to explain it to Charlie. “You’re not worth the trouble.”
Charlie felt the edges of his vision wavering and his knees were shaky. This was it. This was his life as he knew it, ending. But through the crumbling concrete of what had once felt solid, Charlie felt a tiny pulse of hope, like a flower pushing through a crack. It was going to end because Charlie was choosing to end it. “Then I’ll stop being your trouble,” Charlie said, looking directly at Ben. “You can have the flat. I’ll take the day off and have my things out when you’re at work tomorrow.” Charlie walked forward and past Ben, taking his wallet from the counter and pulling on his coat, eyes averted now.
Ben’s voice was hot and loud behind him, a warning and angry tone. “You walk out that door and it’s fucking over, Charlie!”
Charlie paused, hand on the doorknob with his back to Ben. “I know,” he said quietly. And then he turned the handle and left Ben behind.
-
The next few days were a whirlwind. Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara had been incredible, taking the time they could off work to gather Charlie’s things, storing most of them in the storage unit that Charlie had rented when Ben moved in and wanted to bring his own furniture. Elle and Tao insisted that he stay at their place as Tara and Darcy lived in a studio and Charlie had no interest in going to live with his parents in Kent. For the time being he was with Elle and Tao, camped out on their sofa bed in their flat.
“You can stay as long as you need, Charlie,” Elle told him gently when Charlie started looking for flats nearly the minute he got there.
“I know,” said Charlie, putting his computer down to look at her and meet her eyes. He did. He did and he was so grateful for that. “I know.”
And as it turned out, Charlie might need to stay with Elle and Tao literally forever. Looking for a flat was a nightmare. Fuck, if flat hunting was going to be like dating, Charlie was fucked and not in a fun way. Everything was too small, too expensive, too carpeted. Seriously, who carpeted a toilet? Charlie didn’t want to imagine what that would feel like underfoot. He looked for a solid two days without any leads worth visiting at all, Charlie slowly edging into despair that he was going to be homeless and have to go back to Kent.
That had been challenging, but the hardest moment had been a conversation between Charlie and Elle. They had talked a lot over the last few weeks: Elle, Tao, and Nick had been the mooring points in Charlie’s life, feeling like the only things that kept him tethered to the Earth on his worst days. It was odd to have Nick be one of those names, but there he was, an island of bright cheer and joy each day who messaged Charlie silly pictures of the cows or occasionally tormented Charlie with an unexpected and extremely unwelcome image of one of the portrait people.
Charlie had told Elle and Tao more and more about Ben, and two nights after Charlie came to their flat and told them that he had ended things with Ben, he told Elle the whole story. Tao had been gone that night and Charlie and Elle split a bottle of wine. He finally opened up, telling Elle about the night before the wedding and what had happened - the fight, Olly, what Charlie had said, the aftermath, and everything that was said the night that Charlie had chosen to end things with Ben. It wasn’t that Charlie didn’t want to tell Tao what happened, but Charlie felt so vulnerable and tender still that he didn’t think he could take Tao’s sharp anger, even directed at someone else. Instead, it was just the two of them, Elle holding Charlie’s hand as he recounted the full story, tears dropping down silently into his lap as Charlie finally let out some of his shame, the words falling just as heavily as the tears.
Elle listened, gripping Charlie’s hand, her face a cloud of shifting emotions as Charlie went on. He ended the story on what Ben had last said, the last words he had spoken to Charlie before Charlie left. Elle looked at Charlie, brown eyes on blue.
“Charlie,” she said, her voice controlled and certain, even though he could hear the emotion behind it. “Ben was abusive to you. Ben is an abusive partner, and you survived, and you did not deserve to be treated like that.”
Charlie startled and looked at her, already shaking his head. That wasn’t…Elle had it wrong. Charlie had made it seem like too big of a deal and Elle was overreacting. “It’s not been…he wasn’t…I know it sounds bad, but I’m also telling you the worst of it right now and…” Charlie was so lucky to have friends who cared about him, but Elle was wrong. Ben hadn’t been abusive. He had been hard to deal with and sometimes unkind. They’d argued and had hard times. So did everyone. Charlie had fucked up again, been too dramatic. “He never hit me,” Charlie said, trying to make Elle understand.
“Emotional abuse is abuse, Charlie,” Elle said. She held up her hands as Charlie went to protest again. She didn’t get it. “Just - can I share a few things that emotionally abusive partners do? And just think about them?” Charlie just looked at her, frozen, and Elle nodded, giving herself permission to go on. “Sometimes an emotionally abusive person will try to isolate you from your family and friends. That’s one way Ben could keep you dependent on him.”
Charlie blinked, a leaden feeling seeping into his stomach and edging out some of the squirmy panic that Elle had it wrong. He could hear Ben’s voice in his head: “I don’t want to see Elle and Tao again, Charlie, I’m not going.”
Charlie could hear Elle’s gentle voice, though he felt like it was coming through a long tunnel, his head aching. “Emotionally abusive partners attack your sense of self-worth because they want to make it harder for you to leave.”
“You have to get that tooth fixed before the wedding, Charlie, do you really want that gap in pictures?"
“They shut conversations down.”
“We’ll talk about this when you’re calmer.”
“Abusive partners will gaslight you and try to make you doubt your own experiences. It’s another form of manipulation.”
“Really, Charlie? I come home a few minutes late and you freak out like this? Do you know what a crazy person you look like when you do that? ”
“They ask you to compromise your morals, like having your own brother in the wedding pictures. They make you feel small and worthless. They demean your dreams.”
Charlie looked at her then, his stomach twisting in horror and denial and shame, deep welling shame that he could have missed it, that he was stupid enough to have not seen these things. That he was so pathetic that he’d never questioned any of it, at least not questioned it without swallowing it back.
Like Elle could read his thoughts, she squeezed his hand again. “It was not your fault, Charlie. Do you hear me? None of this is your fault. You did not choose for Ben to be abusive, you did not deserve to be abused, this is not your fault that he treated you like this.” She looked at him, her face reflecting pain. “This is not your fault, Charlie,” she repeated, her eyes now bright with tears. Charlie’s were too.
That led to hours more conversation with Elle, the two of them talking and Elle helping Charlie unpack at least a bit. Charlie had denied and teared up and refused to believe things and sat with heavy truths and agreed to at least think about returning to therapy, something he privately thought he had “outgrown”, like he had earned a “NORMAL” medal after his time in therapy when he was younger. It had been hard but the conversation had also let Charlie feel as though he was seeing the world again with new senses, like his eyes and ears had been blocked but their coverings had fallen away. He could reflect now on moments with Ben and realise what might have happened in those moments, how Ben had slowly whittled away at Charlie’s confidence and sense of self. There was so much more there - so much more. But as Elle told him gently, he didn’t need to unpack it all right away. The important thing was that he was safe.
-
A few days later at work, Anita messaged him excitedly on Slack, telling Charlie a friend of a friend had a flat going up for rent in a building not too far from their work. She got Charlie the number and he called it, rushing to the flat after the day was over. It was completely workable, minus the fact that it didn’t have any floors and was missing several major appliances. The leasing agent explained that the owner wanted to get a tenant locked in, but that it would be about a month before it was habitable. Did Charlie still want it? Yes, he had wanted it, and a phone call with Elle to double check if she thought it was a good idea confirmed it. There was so little out on the market available, and it seemed foolhardy to not lock something in.
Charlie waved the signed lease at Elle and Tao when he sank onto the sofa a few hours later, his heart nearly melting in relief. “I have a flat!”
“Well,” said Tao with a tilt of his head. “Ish.” Elle punched him lightly on the arm and he pulled a cartoonishly injured face. “Ouch! What was that for?”
Elle rolled her eyes fondly before looking at Charlie. “That’s great,” she said. “And you’ll stay here until you go there, right?”
Charlie was already shaking his head no before she finished. “Absolutely not,” he said. “I can go remote for part of the week - they’ve been allowing that - and live with my parents for part of the week and the weekends and then come back here for the days I’m in office. I am not imposing on the two of you for a month.”
“Charlie, you are not living with your parents-”
“Elle, I have been taking over your whole life and-”
“-not a question, we’re happy to have you-”
“-I can manage, it’s just for four weeks, and-”
“Charlie,” Tao interrupted. “Do you have to pay rent while they do the work?”
Charlie blinked and looked at him. “No,” he said, tilting his head. “It’s deferred until I move it.”
Tao shrugged. “Why don’t you go back to Lavender Fields?” Charlie felt his heart leap a little at the name. “That guy Nick said it was quiet in the winter. You could use the rent money you would have paid next month.”
Elle’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s a great idea! Maybe you could negotiate a lower rate with Nick, I am sure it’s not super busy in the winter.”
Charlie could feel himself brightening, too, but his brightening was a flush moving up his neck, inexplicable and unstoppable. “I…”
“You’re welcome here, too,” Tao assured him. “But you’d have so much space there and can get out of London a bit, too. Get some breathing room, you know?”
“You really should,” Elle said. “That place seemed so healing.”
Charlie looked at Elle, the blush going to the tips of his ears now. “I…but - I can’t move in with Nick! I can’t live with someone who…”
“You fancy?” finished Elle, smiling.
“You fancy Nick, Charlie?” asked Tao dryly. “This is my shocked face.”
Charlie pointed at him, then Elle. “I don’t…I…you…shut up.”
Elle laughed. “You could still live with him, Charlie,” she said kindly. “Even with someone you find attractive. You said how kind and open he is - use that as you think about who you want to be with, whenever you choose to be with someone again. Think about the things he does that you want your partner to do.”
It took quite a bit of cajoling, but somehow, that night, Charlie was curled up on the sofa bed, his stomach roiling with jittery nerves as he typed on his phone, messaging Nick (after scrolling back up and smiling at some of the unintentionally cute messages Nick had sent).
cfspring: hi
Almost immediately, Charlie got a response. He could feel a smile growing on his face when he saw that Nick writing back right away.
LF Nick: Hi
Here goes. Charlie took a deep breath like he was about to make a speech instead of writing a message, heart thumping and belly squirming with apprehension, a feeling somehow both unpleasant and pleasant at the same time.
cfspring: okay so
cfspring: ben came home
Home. That didn’t seem right. It wasn’t home. It wasn’t their home, or Charlie’s home. Charlie would find one, but it wasn’t that flat with Ben. He frowned and sent another message.
cfspring: came back
cfspring: and it wasn’t the best ha
cfspring: i ended up moving out
cfspring: but it’s been really hard to find a new place, especially paying solo now
cfspring: and i found one, but they are in the middle of some major remodels so it’s like 4 weeks before i can move in
Charlie paused, trying to compose the message. He had written out five or six possibilities on notebook paper, but all of them seemed wrong, now - one too needy, one too presumptuous, one too tentative. He wrote several iterations, deleting and changing it over and over until-
Charlie nearly dropped his phone. LF Nick was calling. Lavender Fields Nick was calling?! Charlie fumbled and answered, feeling both embarrassed and pleased.
“Hi,” said Charlie, the flush back in his neck. God, he might actually die if he lived with Nick Nelson.
“Hi,” said Nick. “What were you writing there, Shakespeare?” Charlie could hear the grin in his confident, easy voice. God, hearing Nick’s voice at all made Charlie so happy.
“Well, I - so, yeah,” Charlie started with a snort. He took a breath. “I said in my message that I found a new place, that one where they’re doing work. Like, major work - new floors and a new kitchen and stuff; it was legitimately all I could find on short notice like this that wasn’t a million pounds a week.” Charlie thought back to the flat with Ben, the way it had felt so cold and alien and like the home of a different person the night he left. “And I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible-”
Nick interrupted. “That fucking wanker made you leave?!”
Charlie blinked, not used to vehement protests on his behalf and surprised by Nick’s apparent anger… for Charlie. “Well, not exactly,” he said. “I…I mean, yes, I chose to leave. But it was kind of like that, you know?” Charlie closed his eyes and nodded to himself, remembering his decision. His decision. His choice. “I chose to leave and find my own place. Even though it had been mine first and I loved it, I, like, decided it was worth it. To be able to choose to leave and choose to find my own flat. I chose to do that.”
“That’s brilliant, Charlie! I’m so proud of you.”
Charlie froze, the words seeping into his cells. “Thanks, Nick.” Charlie paused, closing his eyes and trying to drink in how delicious that moment was. Charlie had made that decision. The part about Nick being proud of him…well…that part was really nice, too. “Which, yeah. It does actually feel really good. But I wanted to get out as soon as I could, and so I need a place to go for the next few weeks. I’m staying with Elle and Tao right now. But they have a one-bedroom and it’s really small. And they both mostly work from home - and they’ve been so great about it, but I know it’s annoying to come home and have someone living in your living room every second, you know?”
“I’m sure they’re not annoyed by it,” said Nick, and Charlie felt himself melt a little. How had Charlie gone weeks without hearing Nick’s voice again? “But I know what you mean. It’s also really hard to not have your own space, especially for that long.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “And I’m getting a discounted first month when I do move into the new flat because of the work they’re doing, so I have a little extra money to work with.” Charlie took a deep breath before he rushed through the next part, hating to ask yet another favour of Nick. “And Elle suggested that maybe I see if you had room and if I could stay for, like, a reduced rate? Like a long-term rate? I know you mentioned that fall and winter are quieter, and I’d only need to go to London for work two days a week and could stay with Elle and Tao those nights.” Charlie could feel himself babbling, his words picking up speed. “But also you don’t have to say yes and I know you might be booked up and-”
Nick interrupted again and it was like Charlie could hear his smile through the phone. His perfect Nick Nelson smile. “Of course you can stay, Charlie! Yeah, November and December are really quiet months, typically; it’ll be great!”
Charlie felt himself melt against the sofa. “Seriously?!”
“Definitely,” said Nick, his voice firm and kind and gorgeous. “Oh god, one caveat, though.”
Charlie felt happy and light, almost effervescent, worry somehow feeling out of reach at the moment. “Oh no, would I have to stay with the portrait people in the hallway?”
“No, nighttime is when they like to fly around the house whispering to people what time of day they’re going to die,” Nick said with a laugh and Charlie shuddered. “I have some of the rugby team coming in soon and staying for a few days, but that’s no worries. There’s plenty of room. And they're all a lot of fun; I think you'll really like them."
Charlie felt a twinge of anxiety now, dropping back towards Earth. He had been expecting Lavender Fields, the gentle version that he remembered, not a version with new people that Charlie had to get to know. Though if they were friends with Nick, he had to assume they’d be kind too. “Are you sure?”
“Of course!”
“That’s great, thank you so much,” said Charlie, body sagging in relief. Okay, now the hard part. THe business part that Nick hadn’t answered before. But Nick will be good at this, he is a business owner. Slash operator for his mum. Charlie grinned distantly, wondering if ‘business operator for my mum’ was on Nick’s Linkedin profile. “And would you…” Charlie paused and forced himself to ask. “Would you consider like, maybe 10% or something off? Some sort of reduced rate?”
There was a brief pause before Nick answered. “What about just a trade instead? Would you consider helping get my mum’s recipes published or bound or whatever as a gift to her? In lieu of paying for the room?”
Charlie let out a soft gasp. That was actually a great idea and he would love to finally do something to pay Nick back for everything that he had done for Charlie. “Oh my god, Nick, I love that idea! And I will one hundred percent do that. But I insist on paying something, too, that’s so long to stay without paying.”
“Well I insist on a five-star review. Oh, and you have to laugh at my jokes at least twice per day. Or at least pretend to.”
Charlie groaned. “Twice? This is extortion!” Nick belly-laughed.
They chatted a bit more, but nothing really mattered to Charlie. He was going back. He had amazing friends, a flat lined up, he was away from Ben - by his choice - and he was going back to Lavender Fields. He would be back at Lavender Fields again.
And Nick would be there too.
Notes:
Charlie deserves a very nice dessert after this chapter: pot de créme. As a reminder, another LF epilogue next week and then Danny & James the following!
Ingredients:
2 cups heavy cream
½ cup whole milk
5 oz. bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
6 large egg yolks
⅓ cup sugar
Six 6-oz. Ramekins
Preheat the oven to 325 F. Bring the cream and milk to simmer in a medium saucepan over medium heat. When it just starts to simmer, remove from heat and stir in the chocolate until the mixture is melted and smooth.In another bowl, whisk the yolks and sugar until they’re blended. Slowly pour in the cream/chocolate mix while whisking continually until the custard is smooth. Strain the custard into a medium bowl and let cool for 10 minutes.
Divide the custard into the ramekins and cover each of them with foil. Put the ramekins in a baking dish and pour in hot water until it comes halfway up the sides of the ramekin. Put the baking dish/water/ramekins in the oven and bake 50 - 60 minutes until they’re set but jiggly-wiggly (this is scientific, yes) in the middle. Pull the ramekins to a wire rack, remove foil, and then cool. Chill until cold, about three hours.
Chapter 37: Charlie's POV: Amy
Summary:
Charlie returns to Lavender Fields and meets a Canadian gremlin. Nick teaches Charlie how to play rugby.
Notes:
In honor of Valentine’s day, a tribute to my two incredible betas who litter my Google docs with both amazing feedback and filthy comments:
Roses are red
I would never go broke
If I had a penny
At every waveofyou dick joke.Roses are red
Plot twists can be thorny
NellieSayzBork adds comments
To make chapters more hornyAn AMAZING Valentine’s Day gift I received was from the incredible songbird3724 (formerly ktface3). They have made recordings of several Lavender Fields chapter segments and uploaded them to Drive. I cannot express how incredibly wonderful they are as a person and reader! This is SUCH an incredible gift. Thank you, my wonderful friend!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie was authentically looking forward to going back to Lavender Fields. He had gone there feeling so broken and devastated, and left feeling hopeful and nearly at ease - something he hadn’t felt in ages. The inn had felt like some type of oasis, one away from the world. Charlie had dreamed of it so many times since he left: the honey-coloured wood of the dining room, the soft ticking of the clock in the parlour, the sense of warmth in all aspects. It had been restorative and supportive, and Charlie never thought he’d be getting a chance to go back, especially so soon. It was…there was something almost magic about it, or at least that was the nostalgia (from a month ago…) that Charlie was holding onto. Also - Nick was there.
All that weekend, Charlie packed and organised and fantasised about living at Lavender Fields with Nick Nelson. Some of the scenes he imagined were realistic - the baking, the cows, the incredibly soft bed. Charlie loved and appreciated Elle and Tao more than he could put into words, but their sofa bed couldn’t hold a candle to the luxurious-feeling mattress he had used at Lavender Fields. Charlie wondered if all of the beds were that soft. He distantly wondered if Nick’s bed was that soft.
Speaking of, other parts of Charlie’s fantasies were decidedly less realistic. He would daydream about Nick slowly reaching over and taking his hand on a drive (drives that Charlie hoped would happen again) to town. There were other ones where Charlie would enter the kitchen and Nick would be baking, wearing an apron. Just an apron. And of course, Charlie would fantasise about Nick knocking softly on Charlie’s door late one night. Charlie would tell him to come in and Nick would say that he had to tell Charlie something. Then Charlie’s fantasy always devolved into a hazy camera filter, Nick’s face the only clear thing. “Charlie…” Fantasy Lavender Fields Nick Nelson would say, voice low and throaty and his eyes locked on Charlie’s. “I wanted to tell you that…I’m gay, too. And that I’m in love with you. Do you want to go out with me? I want to be with you forever.”
So, yes. Charlie definitely spent some time fantasising.
Charlie knew that Nick’s mates were going to be there, and he had of course Googled to try to figure out who Nick was closest to and get a sense of who might be coming. He knew that Amy was coming because Nick had mentioned her, and that she was a physio on the team. Charlie didn’t find much about her as she wasn’t a player and so didn’t have as much media attention on her, but Charlie saw her in a lot of the Badgers team pictures on Instagram, through the public profiles some of the players had. He figured she was close with Nick, so he tried to triangulate and look at which players showed up most in both her and Nick’s public Insta profiles to see who the most likely candidates were.
Charlie hoped that Danny and James would be there. He had spent a fair amount of time…researching…and had concluded that it was unreasonable and unfair that those two got to be with each other. James was stunningly gorgeous, a marble slab of human hand-carved by god. And that was just describing him using language lifted straight from Danny’s Insta captions. James really was stunning, though, with his serious-looking face that broke open when he smiled, which he seemed to do all of the time in the pictures where he was with Danny. He was heavily muscled, his whole body clearly rippling under his jersey as he ran. Not that Charlie had watched videos of James running down the field in old rugby clips, because that would be ridiculous.
James was movie-star handsome. Danny was a different kind of good-looking, a rugged handsomeness with heavier features offset by his absolutely brilliant grin. James might have been more classically Charlie’s type, but he was amazingly magnetic and appealing in the pictures and videos that Charlie had seen. He had wild blonde hair and green eyes and looked a bit like if Chris Pine and Jason Mamoa had combined their DNA and swapped around some of the colouring. Charlie found himself grinning at nearly everything he read or saw of Danny, Danny’s smile and energy nearly jumping off the screen. He always seemed to be in a good mood - like Nick, Charlie had thought - and described himself as “proudly pan” on his Insta profile. Charlie not only wanted them to be there because they both were so appealing, but because he loved the idea of having queer players in professional rugby, particularly out and proud players who had opened the door for others. Charlie would love to meet them.
There were a few other likely candidates based on who Nick posted the most pictures with, but Charlie wasn’t entirely sure. There was a massive man named Ian who was inexplicably referred to as “Lunker” in many picture captions, an American from Texas named Walker, and then the former captain of the Badgers who had been traded and was in a lot of Nick’s pictures. His name was Seamus and he looked like a dark-haired version of Ryan Gosling with a few stone of muscle on him. Charlie wasn’t sure who was going to show up at Lavender Fields, but he wanted to be prepared. Rugby and sports lads in general had made his life hell for a few years after he was outed in secondary, taunting him and making snide comments in the changing room. Charlie reminded himself over and over that Nick was not them, and his team was not the team at Truham. Nick’s team was the first team in the Premiership League to have openly queer players, and the team’s support had been resonating and unwavering. Charlie had to trust that Nick wouldn’t be friends with people who would be cruel. He did. Charlie really did trust that.
The few days after Charlie spoke to Nick were a flurry of activity, Charlie packing and trying to organise how he’d manage to have some of his stuff in storage, some at Elle and Tao’s, and some at Lavender Fields. Part of him was dreading the nomadic, back-and-forth life, but the larger part was unreasonably keen on the idea of spending time at Lavender Fields.There was Nick and his kindness, yes, but there was just an energy there. It felt…gentle. Open. Expansive. Literally none of those were words that Charlie would have ever used to describe the feeling of the flat he shared with Ben. That had been a place that had always felt muffled, small, and tight, Charlie trying to make himself as small and quiet as possible. Ever since the conversation with Elle, Charlie had begun to realise just how impacted he had been by his relationship with Ben.
Charlie had spoken to Elle more - about Ben, about living at Lavender Fields, about being single, about worrying that his silly crush on Nick would make him awkward or bumbling or (god forbid), make Nick uncomfortable. Elle had been reassuring and calm as she always was, and encouraged him to use all of that to help himself grow.
“Think of it as research, Charlie,” she had said, making Charlie smile. She knew that appealing to his logical, professional side was the true way to his heart. “Think of yourself doing some study while you’re there. You’ve told me how different he is from Ben - so actually reflect on that, you know? You can even write down the things that he does that are things that you need from your next partner. Use it to help you set your non-negotiables.” Before Charlie could interrupt and say that he really wasn’t in a place to set non-negotiables, Elle spoke again. “Even just now - what are some of the reasons you find him attractive from a partner perspective?”
“Besides having massive arms and a perfect bum?” Charlie deadpanned.
Elle laughed. “Yes, besides that,” she said. “Like, yes, he is good-looking for sure. But you told me so much about how kind he is, Charlie, and how he made you feel like the things you said mattered while you were with him. Put that to work for yourself - actually write down - what are the things that he does that make you feel valued? What are the things that he says that you want a future partner to say to you? You can use this as a way of re-learning what kinds of partners there can be for you in the world.”
Charlie was driving now to Lavender Fields, a notebook tucked into his rucksack for his Planet Earth-style naturalistic observation of Nick Nelson. Charlie drove and snorted to himself, imagining the voiceover. “Here we have the magnificent retired rugby player. He communicates almost entirely in a series of puns, which both attract mates and confuse potential rivals. His auburn hair helps him blend in well to the autumnal foliage, and his massive arms are both effective for managing livestock and for sexual selection purposes.” He grinned, imagining spending time with Nick and Nellie and Henry again. Charlie had been so focused on getting his things ready and the novelty of getting to live at Lavender Fields and see Nick again that he’d had little time to process anything about Ben, beyond a few words to Elle. That was…that was okay. Charlie didn’t need to think about Ben right now. He didn’t want to think about Ben right now.
As Charlie got closer, he felt the anxiety prickle the back of his mind. This was a long time to impose on Nick. It had been nice the first week - really nice - but there had been an end date for Nick, knowing Charlie was going to leave. Charlie had to ready himself that he was going to be more of a customer this time, not a friend. As much as Charlie had imagined it being like it was when he was there before, with rugby matches and trips to town and time in the kitchen together, Charlie knew that it might not be the same this time. In fact, as Charlie pulled into the drive, he knew it wasn’t going to be like that. Lavender Fields wasn’t a vacation this time, it was essentially a house share that Charlie was renting.
He sat in the car for a moment and nodded to himself, pressing his lips together and bracing himself that this time would be different. It would definitely be different. Charlie opened the door and got out, shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget with them. He felt suddenly and deeply nervous, his stomach dancing with anticipation. He could make out the figure that had to be Nick on the porch, then caught a glimpse of a smile on his face as Nick walked to meet Charlie.
“Hi,” said Nick, his smile brilliant, shining even through the relative darkness, the porch light dim.
Charlie grinned back nervously, his heart leaping and instantly forgetting everything he had told himself about this being more business than a trip. God, it was good to see Nick again. “Hi,” replied Charlie, a grin on his face. He felt both delighted and a little awkward, not sure how to manage the greeting.
There was a brief, pregnant pause and Nick opened his arms. Oh. Oh! Oh. Charlie pulled his brain out of its shocked, “ERROR 404” spiral and moved forward to hug Nick back. It was so warm, and Charlie blinked when Nick gave him another squeeze before releasing him. Charlie stood on the porch and grinned stupidly at Nick, his internal temperature somewhere around 45°C.
“So, um,” said Nick, swinging his arms back and forth a little. “Where are your bags?”
“In the boot,” said Charlie, already turning towards the car to get them. “Let me-”
But Nick was shaking his head before Charlie could even get a step in. “No, let me-”
Charlie scoffed. “I’ll help-”
“You’re a guest -”
Charlie rolled his eyes and fixed Nick with as stern a look as he felt comfortable mustering, a half-jokey expression that had a piece of truth to it. “Nick, I’m basically a bed and breakfast parasite for the next four weeks-”
“Don’t para-fight me on this-”
Charlie swallowed back a laugh, feeling a million times lighter than he had in weeks already. “Oh god, Nick, too soon.”
Nick beamed at him, the side of his mouth pulling up in a grin that made Charlie’s stomach swoop. Get it together, Spring, you can’t be fawning over him constantly. Remember what Elle said - just reflect on what Nick can show you about the future partner you want to be with. “Twice a day, Charlie, you know the deal,” said Nick with a smirk.
Charlie made his voice as flat as possible. “Ha. Ha ha ha.”
“Thank you,” Nick replied sanctimoniously, making Charlie laugh again, this time openly. They went to the boot and chatted as Charlie pulled things out of his car, embarrassed by how much he had brought with him and hurriedly explaining that he figured it would be easier to bring the bulk of it now and then just an overnight bag for the trips back to London. Nick seemed unfazed, just nodding and taking nearly all of Charlie’s things. Charlie focused very hard on not watching the way Nick’s arms strained against the tight long sleeves of his shirt as he lifted up the luggage and took it out of the car.
Charlie followed Nick to the house and was hit by an incredible scent when he walked in the door. “Oh my god, it smells so good in here!”
Nick grinned at him. “I made something new.” He set down Charlie’s bag and held out a plate of soft yellow cookies, and Charlie took one.
Well, there were already a few things that Charlie could add to his perfect partner list - taking in luggage and making fucking unreal lemon cookies. Charlie couldn’t suppress a sound of soft delight. “Ohmygod Nick, these are so good.”
“Thanks,” said Nick, blushing slightly. He hesitated a moment, then turned back to get Charlie’s bags. “Um, let me just bring this up to your room.”
Charlie finished the cookie, savouring every moment. “Am I in the same one as last time?”
“Yep,” confirmed Nick. “This way you’ll be as close to me as possible in case the rugby hooligans get too out of hand.” Charlie gave a forced laugh to Nick’s grin at him, not wanting to think he wasn’t eager to see Nick’s friends. He was, he just… As if Nick had read his thoughts, he spoke again, the words rushing out. “No, they’re - they’re truly all good people,” Nick assured him, looking directly at Charlie. “Just…shenanigan-forward. But they’re all good people, and everyone is happy to have you here.”
Charlie nodded and gave Nick a tentative, more real smile this time, liking the sound of ‘shenanigan-forward’. “I - I know. I guess I just…I didn’t have the best experience with the sporty lads when I was in secondary school,” Charlie said, trying to force the memories out of his brain, images of changing rooms and metal-lockered halls threatening to smother him. He swallowed. “They tended to be the twattiest. But from everything you’ve said, these guys sound great.”
“They are,” Nick said steadily as he gathered Charlie’s things and started up the stairs, Charlie following and averting his eyes from Nick’s bum on the stairs. Mostly.
They got to Charlie’s room and Nick dropped Charlie’s things, then leaned in the doorway. Charlie stood and looked back at Nick, leaning on one foot. “Tell me a little bit more about them,” said Charlie. “Who should I be expecting tomorrow?”
“Well, tomorrow is just Amy, then the rest get there Thursday, mostly,” said Nick, looking fond and happy. There was another thing for the list - a partner who seemed to authentically love his friends. “For her, expect a small Canadian goblin. She’s about 18 feet of personality stuffed into a 5-foot frame. Rinses me endlessly-”
“I like that,” Charlie interrupted, grinning and starting to tidy a few of his things away.
“Of course you do, you menace,” laughed Nick, and Charlie felt some warmth steal down his chest. He liked Nick calling him a menace. It was fun and light and friendly, not a joke at Charlie’s expense. It made Charlie feel almost like a real part of Nick’s life. “Don’t even think about hinting that you want to get a workout in or else she’ll design some torturous plan for you and her to do together,“ cautioned Nick, widening his eyes in earnest warning. “She’s the bane of my existence and one of my best friends.”
Charlie nodded and smiled. He liked how fondly Nick spoke of his friends, even though the idea of Nick having a best friend made Charlie feel oddly jealous for no discernible reason other than the fact that he was ridiculous. Charlie made his voice laddish. “And the blokes? We’ll bin some pints together, yeah, mate?”
“I mean, I can’t deny the booze piece,’ admitted Nick, laughing. “But yeah, I think you’ll like them a lot. Shea - Seamus - he’s probably my best mate. We were on the Badgers together for a long time and we were both assistant captains until he was traded.” Charlie knew this, but tilted his head. He had read about Seamus being traded, but hadn’t really considered the human side of it. The name he read seemed like a character versus a real person, and Charlie had not really considered that he had a life and a flat and friends - like Nick - before he left. “Yeah, that sucked, honestly - he just got traded at the start of the season before this one,” said Nick. “He’s a bit more serious of the lads you’ll meet, so the lads love to mess with him. He gets so annoyed; it’s great.”
“Okay, bruv,” Charlie said with a snort.
Nick chuckled and his face pulled in that grin that made Charlie want to write down a million things he needed from a future partner. “I mean that in a loving way.” Nick told Charlie about a few of the other players coming, like Tex (the American guy from Texas) and his girlfriend. Nick warned Charlie that Tex was another lover of puns - along with other players - a fact that made Charlie grin and also authentically terrified him a little. He couldn’t imagine that there even were more farmyard puns possible beyond the ones Nick had already made, but it looked like Charlie was going to find out.
“Okay, so we have Amy and…Tex? And Regan.”
“Right,” said Nick. “And then there’s Danny and James.” Charlie’s heart leapt a little in his chest - they were coming! “They’ve been together - what…four years? Five? But they’ve known each other for ages. They came out when we all played together. It was a - it was a big deal. They were the first to come out in the League.”
“That must have been…yeah,” said Charlie, still a little amazed at how casually Nick spoke about his queer teammates. He knew it was narrow-minded of him, but his concept of rugby lads had never included a robust “ally” facet. Charlie imagined that Danny and James might have felt the same way before they came out, thinking about how terrifying it must have felt to be the first ones to come out in the league. “I can’t imagine that was easy.”
“Me neither,” Nick agreed. “But they did and they’ve been openly together ever since. They’re so different, but they work perfectly together. James is quieter for sure. He’s really smart, really thoughtful. Just the kind of bloke you want on a team. Cares about his teammates, considerate, grounded. Then Danny is…” Nick grinned and shook his head, and Charlie had to grin too; it was infectious. “He just exists…loudly.”
Charlie laughed. “What?” He could totally imagine that just from the pictures and interview he had seen, but was dying to hear more.
“Like… everything. He’s just…loud. His voice is loud, his clothes are loud - he’s always got some new idea, which is usually both incredibly risky and so fun. Sometimes it feels like he’s one of those four year olds who needs a leash for his own safety. But he’s also one of the kindest and most authentic people in the world. And he loves everyone hard. He’d do pretty much anything for anyone - especially James, though.”
“Yeah?” asked Charlie, the same sense of warmth spreading through his chest again. He liked hearing Nick speak about his friends, particularly his queer friends.
“Yeah,” agreed Nick. “Oh god, I remember a few seasons ago - James got injured and was out for a few weeks and was really down. Danny somehow…nicely cyberbullied?…John Legend into recording a quick video for James wishing him well.”
Charlie laughed aloud, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Seriously?”
“As Danny would say…deadset. But those guys don’t all get here for a few days like I said; they all spent some downtime in Leeds and with family and stuff before they came here. And, oh!” Nick snapped his fingers loudly and Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin. “Oh, god, sorry,” Nick said laughing, reaching a hand towards Charlie as Charlie clutched at his heart dramatically. “Saying family…I was thinking this week, your brother, Oliver?”
Charlie blinked, confused. Olly? What did Nick… “What about him?”
“You have to get him out here this weekend! You said he’s a Badgers fan, right?” Nick sounded keen, nodding emphatically as he spoke. “Well, what, three current lads from the team will be here, plus me and Shea who both used to be on the team. We always end up playing a pickup match when we’re all together; reckon he’d want to come out to meet them and see the cows, too?”
Charlie stared at Nick blankly for a moment, his mind needing a moment to catch up. Nick…was inviting Olly? Nick was inviting Olly to Lavender Fields? That would…that would make Olly’s entire life and Charlie was stunned that Nick had thought of his brother, seemingly unbidden. He grinned widely, shocked and beyond pleased that he and Nick might actually be…friends. “Oh my god, Nick, that is brilliant!” Nick smiled at him and Charlie started patting his pockets for his phone, wanting to call his mum immediately. “Which day do you think would be better? Saturday?”
Nick confirmed that Saturday would be best and Charlie got up to call home, momentarily sidetracked when he and Nick both discovered that they grew up in Kent, just a few minutes apart. Nick had gone to an elite preparatory sports school and so they hadn’t ended up at the same secondary, but had their lives been different, maybe they could have done. Charlie excused himself and Nick waved as he went downstairs, tapping his “Mum” contacts from his favourites, feeling giddy.
“Charlie?”
“Hi mum!”
There was a brief pause. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” said Charlie, almost bursting with joy. He was at Lavender Fields…and with Nick…and Nick - Nick Nelson - was offering to have Olly come up. God, Charlie loved Lavender Fields and its magic so much. “Hey, so I’m here at the inn-”
“Yes, the inn.” He could hear the tiny suppressed sigh in his mum’s voice, the one that he knew she wanted him to ask about. Charlie pressed his lips together, not giving in to the bait and not wanting to burst the deliciously happy feeling in his chest. He waited a beat, and his mum sighed again, this time louder. “I don’t know why you didn’t come home after you and Ben broke up instead of paying a stranger to live there.”
I broke up with him, a voice in Charlie said. He had told her that, had told her and his dad a version of what happened a few nights ago. She had insisted that he come home to stay, both before and after Charlie had found the new flat. Elle and Tao will get sick of you, you can’t spend all your money on a vacation home, you don’t want to inconvenience people. She had said all of that and more, steadfastly ignoring the fact that she would have loved to drop passive-aggressive hints the whole time if he had stayed with his parents, sighing that he was inconveniencing them. Charlie took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.
“I found something that works right for me, mum,” Charlie said, trying to keep his voice even and draw boundaries the way he and his college therapist had worked on. “I found an arrangement that makes sense for my life and what I need right now.”
“What you need is to come home and process a bit, not run away from your problems and feelings,” Jane said, her voice sharp through the phone.
Charlie bit back a yell of frustration and took another long breath, the joy completely evaporated now. So much for the call a few weeks earlier. “We just want you to be happy.” Yes, if it fit what Jane thought would make him happy. He knew some of this was his mum being obstinate and angry that Charlie hadn’t bent to her whims and hated that there could have been a tiny piece of truth to it. He gritted his teeth. “The owner here is a retired rugby player from Olly’s favourite team,” Charlie said, ignoring her barbs. “There are going to be a bunch of players from the team here and Nick - that’s the owner, Nick - invited Olly to come meet them.”
“You know that won’t work, Charlie.” Jane was dismissive and exasperated and Charlie already knew he had lost before he started.
“It can,” Charlie insisted, wanting to fight for Olly and what would make him happy. “It’s not that long of a drive and I could-”
“-It’s not just the driving and you know that, Charlie, and you can’t just expect that we can jump when you say so and-”
Charlie stayed on the phone for several fruitless minutes. He tried arguing, cajoling, reasoning - and none of it worked. Jane was utterly set against it, which Charlie realised was entirely beyond logic. This felt like punishment, plain and simple. Charlie hadn’t told them enough about Ben, he hadn’t gone home after it happened, he hadn’t done what his mum had wanted and this was the result. After the call, Charlie lay on the bed, angry tears running down the side of his face. He had been feeling so stupidly happy, overjoyed to be back at Lavender Fields and around Nick Nelson’s kindness again. Nick was treating him not as a guest, but as a friend, and Charlie was going to refuse that kindness. That was there, but so were thoughts of Olly, his sweet and loving brother. Olly, who was so deserving of kindness and now who couldn’t receive it, because Charlie hadn’t “done right” by Jane.
It took a few minutes for Charlie to compose himself enough to go downstairs but he eventually did, splashing cold water on his face and taking several deep breaths. He found Nick in the kitchen, cheerfully chopping away at some veg and greeting Charlie brightly before his face drew in, looking concerned. “You all right?”
Charlie leaned against one of the counters, still furious. “She refused.”
“What?! Why?” Nick turned his whole body to look at Charlie when he spoke, a tiny brightness that broke through Charlie’s anger and sadness.
Charlie looked down at the kitchen floor, shaking his head. “She does this sometimes. She just..says no for no reason. Just like - shuts me down. It’s like she decides even before I speak, then just digs in her heels.”
Nick’s voice was sympathetic. “That sucks! Did she even give you a reason why?”
Charlie sighed. “She said a bunch of stuff. About being too tired, about Olly needing to study, about not wanting to drive, even though I offered to meet her halfway or even have him take the train. He’s too young and I’m not giving her enough time to think about it and she thinks it’s ridiculous I’m staying here…” The last sentence came out bitter. It was Charlie’s fault she was in a bad mood and shut it down. If Charlie had done better earlier that week about the flat stuff, she would have been happier and maybe let Olly have a moment in the sun.
“She…why doesn’t she want you to stay here?” Nick’s voice was hesitant and Charlie looked up sharply.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing about here ” said Charlie in a hurry. Was…was Nick worried Charlie would leave? Did Nick actually want Charlie there, not just offering a place to him as a favour? “She just thinks I should be there. Living with her and my dad and Olly. Which, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to spend more time with Olly…but god, living with her?” Even the thought made Charlie feel sick to his stomach, thinking of how confined and small he felt both at home and in he and Ben’s flat. “I don’t…I don’t want to go right to another person who doesn’t make me feel heard.” Charlie sighed, the memories of Ben threatening to spill into his brain and drown out all of the other thoughts. He sat in the heaviness for a moment before realising that Nick hadn’t signed up for this. Nick was doing him a favour - he was still sure of that - and Charlie was unloading all of this on him? Again? God, Charlie was embarrassing. “Sor-”
“Toll,” Nick blurted, cutting him off.
Charlie froze mid-apology, confused. “What?”
“Every time you say sorry unnecessarily, I’m going to charge you a…toll.”
Charlie laughed, not even bothering to cover his mouth this time. “A toll?”
“You heard me,” said Nick, his chin aloft but the haughty look completely undone by the grin he was failing to suppress.
Charlie felt a grin sneak back onto his face and put his hands on his hips. “And what’s the toll, Nicholas?”
“A rugby fixture,” said Nick with a grin. “Every time you say sorry unnecessarily, you have to watch a full rugby match with me.”
“Sounds homophobic; I’m out.”
Nick laughed and flushed a little and Charlie remembered that even though Nick was friends with Danny and James he might not be used to gay culture jokes. He recovered well, though. “Fine. Rugby match or movie of my choice. And you have to pick between whatever those two options are.”
Charlie paused like he was trying to decide, then pretended to concede. “Deal.” Nick raised an eyebrow and extended his hand. Charlie laughed and shook it. Nick’s hands were so warm. And large. And strong. God. Add another thing to the list. Okay, you probably need to let go, Charlie. Charlie cleared his throat. “Okay. Not sorry. Just - yeah. She can be a lot. And just…let me know if that’s ever stuff you don’t want to hear about.”
Nick looked at him, his face open and kind. There was the tiniest crease between his eyebrows that was so endearing and lovely. “Charlie. I promise there will never be stuff I don’t want to hear about from your life.”
Oh god, perfect main character Nick strikes again, Charlie thought desperately to himself. That exact quote was going in his journal tonight - a partner that always wanted to hear about his life. He got himself together, trying to give Nick a little of the background without getting too deep into it. “My mum is just…not an easy person. And yours seems so - perfect?”
“Don’t tell her that, it’ll go right to her head.” Nick’s face was glowing and he chuckled, the sound rich and full in the room. He pulled out his phone and showed Charlie a picture of his mum. Charlie had seen her on the website, but in this candid shot she just looked so alive and bright, carting around some lavender. “She is pretty great,” confirmed Nick, smiling fondly at his phone before closing it. “Yeah, she’s wonderful. My dad and brother, though…”
Nick’s voice had taken on a harder quality, one that Charlie hadn’t heard before, and he looked up in surprise. “They’re not like her?”
“Dead opposite, really,” said Nick with a rueful laugh. “They were both dicks when I was growing up - my dad cheated on my mum all over town - and then when Danny and James came out, they said some, uh, some stuff.” He looked down and Charlie wanted to reach out and touch him, tell Nick that whatever his family said, it didn’t reflect on Nick. “It was - pretty awful. Then one of the guys on David’s team came out a few months later, because of Danny and James, you know?” Charlie nodded, eyes never leaving Nick. “And that, like - humanised it for him? Which is so fucked that he had to know someone who is gay to realise that gay people are just…you know, human, but…” Nick paused, looking frustrated. “So he’s changed a little. We still don’t talk much, though.”
Charlie nodded. He had been thinking of Nick as the perfect human, just a flawless person both made of and surrounded by light and love. Now, there was this new facet of Nick, a piece of Nick’s life that Charlie wanted to get to know. He wanted to know all the sides of Nick. “And your dad?”
Nick nodded for a few moments before he responded, his voice measured. “We don’t talk…at all, really,” he said, then sighed. “He kind of - we stopped talking as much when I was drafted by a ‘shite’ team, then not at all after I laid into him about what he said about Danny and James.” Nick laughed hollowly and Charlie’s heart ached. He couldn’t imagine Nick - kind Nick who clearly cared about his friends - hearing homophobic vitriol from his family. He couldn’t imagine Nick refusing to fight for the people he cared about. “Well, I guess I stopped talking to him, really. He still likes to call and leave the occasional voicemail to let me know what I could be doing better. Or did, at least, when I still played. Now that I don’t, I don’t even get those any more.”
Every sentence that Nick had spoken made Charlie’s chest hurt more. Nick deserved so much better than that, and Charlie couldn’t believe Nick’s own father didn’t appreciate how wonderful his son was. He instinctively reached towards Nick to put a hand on his and then drew back, catching himself. “That’s awful, Nick. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I had mum,” said Nick in a falsely casual voice, shrugging. “And she is pretty fantastic. You might end up catching her depending on how long the construction in your flat goes. She’ll be here the first part of December, then she’ll be back for Christmas Day before she takes off again.”
“I’d love to meet her,” said Charlie, knowing and appreciating that Nick wanted to change the subject from his dad. He smiled at Nick, who already looked brighter talking about his mum again.
“I’d love that, too,” said Nick, returning Charlie’s smile. There was a brief pause and then Nick blinked, Charlie inhaling and sitting up. “So, yeah. I guess we all have our family shit, right?”
“You’re right,” said Charlie, reflecting on how Nick hadn’t run away from Charlie’s overshare. He had shared his own life, too, normalised it and hadn’t made Charlie feel stupid or dramatic or needy. There was another observation for the journal.
“Well, we’ll make a video for him this weekend. Oliver,” he added, noticing how Charlie tilted his head in confusion. “We’ll record a video and send it to him, then that lot will all be back again for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. So maybe we can plan for that and you and your brother can come up then. Oh, or when they all come this spring for the second bye week! We’ll make it happen.”
Never mind, Nick was a fictional character again. Who was that fucking thoughtful and caring? “Yeah?”
“Of course,” said Nick, before glancing at the clock, which was nearly at ten now. “Shit, I didn’t realise what time it was.”
“Oh! Me neither,” said Charlie, amazed anew at how quickly time passed at Lavender Fields. “I have to exchange my labour for money tomorrow; I should go to bed.”
Nick laughed loudly and Charlie glowed at the sound. He warned Charlie about Amy and her menacery and wished Charlie goodnight. Charlie still had a grin on his face as he floated up the stairs. It had been an exhausting day - it was wild to think that Charlie had been at work just five hours earlier, and now he was at Lavender Fields again. With Nick again. There was more he needed to process about Ben, yes, but for now, Charlie was just so glad to be here. It seemed…it seemed like Nick was glad to have him there, too. Nick was sending some signals that there might be the possibility of authentic friendship between the two of them - the hug, talking about families, the offer with Olly. Before Charlie settled into bed, he jotted down a few notes, beginning his “future partner” list.
- Offers to help me with things (carrying bags)
- Remembers the names of my family members
- Is kind to my family members
- Turns and looks at me when we’re talking
- Listens to what I am saying
- Wants to hear about stuff from my life
Looks like Nick Nelson
-
Charlie was up early the next day. He had an early meeting and had wanted to get a workout in before he started. It was a good and tough run on the hilly roads around Lavender Fields, and Charlie was just making the coffee and heating the water for tea - he hadn’t heard anything from Nick yet, so wanted to have that ready for him - when a rap at the door caused him to jump and spill grounds all over the kitchen. Charlie turned to see a delighted-looking face turned sideways in the window, a shock of red hair making him know immediately the face on the other side of the glass was Amy.
Charlie went to the door and opened it, not even able to get a word out before the woman charged in, speaking a mile a minute and toting a large holdall over her shoulder. “Hi, babe! Oh, you must be Charlie! Nick told me you were going to be here, but he didn’t tell me that you were so fucking adorable. Okay, where is Nick? Is he up? I can’t wait to see that decrepit old man far past his prime. Has he been stretching?”
Charlie blinked, unprepared for this whirl of activity and excitement this early in the day. “Uh - yes, I’m Charlie, and he’s…here? Sleeping still, I think? Also…hi.” Charlie extended his hand awkwardly, not sure what to say. She clearly already knew who he was and he was pretty sure he knew who she was, but didn’t know quite how to approach it. He needed another David Attenborough voiceover, gravely advising the curious young gay on engaging with Canadian physios.
“Amy!” said Amy, ignoring his hand and hugging him. “I’m not normally this batshit,” she said, gesturing to herself, “But I got up at four to drive here and drank about seventeen litres of coffee and I both have to pee like a racehorse and my brain is on fire.”
Charlie laughed. “I am familiar with both of those feelings actually.”
Amy beamed. “Of course you are. I knew I was going to like you. Nick’s said great things about you. Granted, he’s a total boob but a good judge of character.”
Charlie snorted. “A boob?”
“A boob,” Amy assured him, nodding sagely. “Is he up?”
“Not yet,” Charlie said, looking at his watch. “Which is nice - I know when I was here last time he got up so early every day and I felt badly for him-”
“I’m going to wake his ginger ass up,” Amy said, already heading off for the part of the house where Nick lived.
“But I - you - shouldn’t we let him sleep in?”
Amy looked at him with fond pity. “Charlie, you precious angel. You sweet, sweet boy. Maybe you should just go upstairs and have plausible deniability.”
Charlie laughed. “That sounds like a plan; I have to get to this meeting anyway. So, um - I’ll see you and Nick in a bit?”
“Yes you will,” said Amy with a cheeky wink, waving as Charlie headed off.
Charlie took a breath as he headed up the stairs. She was a little insane but Charlie liked her. She reminded him a bit of Darcy in a way, and Charlie imagined that he and Amy might actually get to be friends, too. He grinned to himself, imagining Amy pouncing on Nick and waking him up, feeling another stab of completely irrational jealousy. He couldn’t imagine how wonderful it must be to know Nick well enough to get to go into his bedroom. God, Charlie would die for that.
-
Charlie would never understand the pushback against working remotely and the idea that people got less done. He got through several meetings and typed nonstop in between, trying to get caught up. He only had a quick break when there was a soft knock at the door and he turned his camera off, getting up to find Nick with a tray of food and an apologetic grin for interrupting him. Charlie had beamed and thanked Nick, staying off camera to hide his food and the giant smile on his face. He was more disappointed than he wanted to admit when he came down for a late lunch and Amy and Nick were gone, a cheerful note on the counter from Nick letting him know that he and Amy had run to town. Charlie hoped there would be another run to town needed. Not that he’d specifically made a playlist for any truck rides to town he and Nick would go on. Nick had (of course) left some lunch, a curried chickpea salad that was incredible.
It was late in the afternoon when Charlie finally pushed back from his computer at the sound of Amy and Nick returning, reasoning that his early start allowed him the right to sign off at 4:30. He made his way downstairs, stretching and trying to get the tightness out of his back. At work he’d at least be able to walk to meetings, but at home he was hunched in his chair all day and his spine was feeling it.
"God, I’m so glad to be done,” Charlie breathed as he stretched, turning one way and then the other. “That was brutal today - I almost never have that many meetings. I hate sitting that much.”
“You want me to stretch you out, babe?” asked Amy brightly.
Was that…normal? Charlie glanced over at Nick, who rolled his eyes and gave a jerk of his head that said I told you about her. “Um…sure? Yes?”
“Great!” chirped Amy. “We’ll go for a quick, easy jog first and then we’ll stretch together. Sound good?” Charlie opened his mouth to protest that he had already worked out but then had to stifle a giggle at Nick behind her, shaking his head violently and pretending to die several times over. Charlie actually did laugh when Amy whipped around and Nick made himself look angelic, blinking his eyes theatrically.
“Uh - yeah.” Charlie was grinning. He already felt comfortable with Amy, just adding to the sense that he had made the right choice with staying at Lavender Fields. “I actually could use some movement.”
“I knew I liked you, Charlie.” Amy winked at him and they both went to change, meeting back downstairs a few minutes later.
Charlie laced up his shoes as Amy did a few stretches, limbering up. “You know, I thought a little about being a physio in uni,” Charlie said, straightening up. “I was taking all of the science courses but then took an incredible writing class and fell in love with literature.”
Amy squealed and slapped his arm. “I feel like we would have been best friends in another life,” she said, grinning at him, and Charlie grinned back.
Charlie and Amy set out on their run, finding that their paces were well-aligned. They spoke a little about work to start. Amy asked about Charlie’s job and he told her about his role in publishing, Amy seeming authentically interested in what he did and Charlie’s answers. He asked her about her work, and she told him she was just there to fondle men. Charlie snorted and she grinned, and then they were off, telling each other stories from work and from uni, both of them laughing and trying to recall the funniest and most embarrassing ones they could think of.
They were a few miles in and heading back to Lavender Fields and jogging in a comfortable moment of silence. “So you ended up here after a breakup, is that right?”
Charlie ran a few steps more, considering how much to share or not share. Fuck it, he thought. Amy was essentially a stranger, though one he was comfortable with. He probably did need to process some of the Ben stuff, and maybe this was a safe way to do it. “I…yeah, sort of,” he said, nodding as they ran. “We…this was supposed to be our honeymoon, coming to Lavender Fields after we got married. Well, a mini-moon at least, Ben wanted to go somewhere ‘luxury’ for our real honeymoon.” Charlie put the word in quotes, the effect lost due to his mittens. “But yeah, we ended up cancelling the wedding the night before. He did, more so.”
“Oh, fuck,” said Amy, shaking her head. “You had to come here alone? Why the fuck did he cancel the wedding?! I hate him. I want to punch him right in the cunt.” Charlie let out a shocked laugh and Amy grinned at him. “Just wait until you meet Danny. I was a demure and proper lady before I met him.”
“Sure, Jan.”
Amy laughed, then sobered. “What happened?” she asked, her voice curious but not prying.
Charlie sighed. “Well, a lot of things, I realised. But the thing that killed it was that he didn’t want my younger brother in the wedding pictures.” He jogged a few steps more before he realised Amy was no longer beside him, turning to see her standing still, her mouth dropped open. He gave a half-laugh and circled back, Amy shaking her head and running again.
“Is your brother one of those anti-paparazzi scarves?” she demanded. “Because that is the only rationale I can see for him not being in pictures.”
Charlie snorted. “No, he basically said Olly was too ugly to be in them. Ben probably thought I was too ugly to be in them, too.”
Amy let out a growl, but kept running this time. She touched Charlie’s arm and looked at him. “You, Charlie Spring, are fucking gorgeous,” she said, shaking her head. “He sounds like a piece of shit. Was he?”
“He kind of is,” Charlie said, a wash of relief sweeping over and through him when he did. He had… he had never actually admitted that. There had been the signs, the silences and sighs and dismissals and cruelties, but Charlie had explained each of them away, every time. Then he had talked with Elle and started reading about emotional abuse and…Charlie had started to think, for the first time, that maybe all of it wasn’t his fault. Some, yes. But maybe with someone who wasn’t Ben, it would have been entirely different.
“I get that,” said Amy, shaking her head. “I dated a real piece of shit, my ex boyfriend.” She told Charlie a brief version of the story, recounting that she had dropped off dinner for her boyfriend Caden the evening he was supposed to come back from a trip. Caden had just given her a key to his place and she had used it, so delighted to have a new level of intimacy.
“So of course I walk in and hear all of this grunting and squealing and moaning and Charlie, let me tell you, I have never been so hopeful to discover porn blasting from a bedroom TV.” Charlie laughed ruefully again and Amy told him how she had discovered Caden “engaged in non-accidental penetrative sexual intercourse” with some woman.
“What…would be accidental penetrative sexual intercourse?” Charlie wondered aloud.
“Oh, you know how it is,” Amy said, waving her hand. “You’re both naked and someone slips on a banana peel while erect and falls into a vagina. Happens a lot.”
Charlie laughed. “Must be a Canadian thing.”
“Nah, only when you slip on maple syrup. Okay, so then you came to Lavender Fields?”
Charlie told her more of the story, how he had come to Lavender Fields and how Ben had messaged finally, to tell him that he was in France. Charlie told her of how withholding Ben’s messages had been and how low he had felt. He told her about Elle and Tao coming to Lavender Fields and even let out how guilty he had felt and how lonely he had realised that he had been, even with a partner. Amy was sympathetic and challenged him a bit, pointing out similar things that Elle had. They had commiserated on the way both of their exes had tried (and sometimes succeeded) to control them, something that helped Charlie feel less alone. Charlie told her about Nick, too, and how wonderful and kind he had been. They got back to the house and Amy suggested that they stretch out on the back porch, Charlie agreeing. Amy led him through some stretches and did some amazing adjustments on him in downward facing dog that made him feel like a new person.
Stretching complete, Charlie and Amy settled into the Adirondack chairs, Amy handing Charlie a blanket and looking at him, wrapping the blanket around herself. “So - your ex.” Charlie sighed, pulling his own blanket tight. “How’d he even tell you he was back in town? I think that’s where we left off.”
Charlie snorted. “He texted and said, ‘I’m back. Where are you’. No period, no question mark.”
“I mean, think of the millionth of a second he saved,” said Amy sarcastically. “Efficiency, Charlie.”
Charlie snorted and rolled his eyes. “So I said I was at home, though that felt like a weird thing to say, too. Like - whose home, you know?”
Amy nodded. “I assume he came over, right?”
“Yep,” said Charlie. “Comes in and tosses his keys in the bowl, kicks his shoes off and drops his jacket on the floor - like always - and then asks if ‘I’m ready to talk now’.” Charlie’s voice was cruel and cold in his imitation of Ben, still remembering the hot flash of anger that he experienced when that was how Ben chose to open the conversation.
Amy growled again. She was terrifying, a tiny muscular woman who Charlie was desperately happy to have on his side. “Talk,” she said sarcastically. “You had talked. He freaked out like a baby-back bitch and refused to speak to you.”
Charlie laughed. “Right. And I was immediately on edge, you know? Like…he was the one who had said that about Olly.” Charlie took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but…supported, somehow. “And then he had said I was being selfish, and then that maybe I wasn’t worth marrying and that I was too much trouble and too high maintenance and no one wanted to sign up for that for life…” He stopped himself before the tears came, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Charlie rubbed his hands over his face, pushing the emotion back in. “Sorry to lay this all on you. I - saying it out loud is…”
Amy’s voice was gentle and understanding. “I know. You don’t want to say it out loud or tell people because when you actually say things, you realise how bad they sound. And you know exactly what your friends would say.”
Charlie looked at her and they met eyes, grim agreement passing between the two of them. Amy got it. She knew the shame that Charlie had been swallowing back, hiding the truth that Charlie hadn’t even admitted to himself - that Ben was not a good partner. That Ben had been…abusive. “Yes,” said Charlie with another long sigh. “That’s it exactly.”
“I totally get it, babe,” said Amy, reaching over and squeezing his arm. “I went through that with my ex as well.” She dropped her voice a little, and Charlie heard the same shame in her voice. He wanted to yell and tell her that she didn’t need any of that shame. Maybe he needed someone to yell that at him, too. “There were a lot of things I didn’t tell my friends and the guys on the team. Especially Nick.”
Charlie turned and looked at her, belly fluttering for no discernible reason. “Why especially not Nick?”
“Well, first of all, he’s like a brother, so there’s that ‘protective Nick Nelson’ factor to it. But beyond that…I don’t know. He’s just, like - good, you know?” Amy looked at Charlie and he nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. That was Nick. He was just…good. “Like - I don’t think he can understand how people don’t treat the people he cares about the way he thinks they should.”
Charlie nodded for a few moments before responding. That was…that was exactly who Nick seemed to be. Charlie imagined that Nick believed everyone was as kind as he was, expecting the world to care about people like he did. “That seems…yeah. He was…he’s done so much for me. Like - I only stayed here for a week. But it feels like - I don’t know. It feels like I’ve known him so much longer than a week?” He chanced a glance at Amy even as the flush rose in his neck, but she just nodded like she knew what he meant. “And one of the things he said to me before I went back and talked to Ben…” There is enough so ask for more. Charlie had physically written down those words and stared at them over and over. Those were the words he had reflected on that awful last night, the one where he chose to leave Ben. “It really helped me. It helped to have someone say that I…deserve more than I was getting.”
Amy took his hand this time, her hand small in Charlie’s. It was warm and grounding and she squeezed his fingers, leaving a lot unsaid. “He and his mum are fantastic,” she agreed. “You landed at the right bed and breakfast, Charlie fucking Spring.”
Charlie smiled at her. “I think I did. And now I-” He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a loud crash from the kitchen, Amy letting out a sound and the two of them whipping around.
“Sorry!” called Nick, opening the back door and clearly drying his hands. Charlie’s racing heart, just starting to settle, unsettled. What had Nick heard? What had Charlie said? Charlie frantically tried to catalogue what had been said, trying to recall if at any point in the conversation he had professed his undying obsession for Nick Nelson and how annoyingly gorgeous and fit he was. “I didn’t see you two were out there!”
Amy grinned and Charlie calmed himself a little. Nick hadn’t even known they were there, thank god. “What’s going on with those butterfingers, Nelson?” she said with a cheeky grin.
“I’ll show you how un-buttery these fingers are this weekend,” said Nick, waving a finger. Charlie gulped, any implications about Nick’s fingers not something he could handle at the moment. Or maybe ever.
“You somehow showed both how terrible you are at trash talk and how terrible you are at dirty talk with one sentence, Nelson,” said Amy, shaking her head as if disappointed. “Though I am sure you were talking about the rugby match.” Charlie laughed, still a little woozy from the adrenaline rush. “And speaking of this weekend - Charlie, are you ready for a little scrimmage this weekend?”
Charlie snapped his mouth shut, the wooziness gone and replaced by cold horror. “What? Like - a rugby scrimmage?!”
Amy nodded. “Have you played before?”
“No…” said Charlie, looking at Nick and trying to parse what Amy was saying.
Amy gestured at Nick, looking scandalised. “This motherfucker didn’t teach you how to play yet?”
“No?” This time it was a question.
“Nicholas Nelson, you jabroni,” scolded Amy. “There are about to be fifty-“ Charlie felt his heart seize. How many rugby players were coming?
“Five,” Nick corrected, aiming it at Charlie and looking fondly annoyed.
“-Fifty rugby players here this weekend, all of whom will want to engage in a pick-up rugby match plus me and Regan, and they’ll need an eighth person, and you haven’t taught this speed demon to play?” Amy pointed at Charlie accusingly, though her eyes were on Nick. “Have you seen him run?!”
Nick grinned at Charlie and it made his heart do a flip, though the rugby thing still loomed heavily. “Do we have a secret weapon?”
Amy nodded, a malevolent and delighted look on her face. “He’s so fast!”
Charlie turned to Nick, tilting his head and fixing Nick with his gaze. “You didn’t mention that there was going to be a mandatory rugby match this weekend.” He was grinning now, assuming that there was a match but that Amy was joking about him playing. It could only be a joke to think about him playing rugby with quite literal professional athletes when the last time Charlie had picked up a rugby…ball?...was when he was trying to impress his year 10 crush.
Nick held up his hands, his eyes wide. “I didn’t - I didn’t know if you’d want to play! It’s a group of giant rugby idiots, I wasn’t sure if that was your thing!” He looked a little panicked and Charlie grinned. He decided to lean into the joke of him playing rugby and rinse Nick a little in the process.
Charlie tilted his head, looking at Nick quizzically. “Why not?”
Amy mirrored Charlie, tilting hers too and immediately cottoning on. “Yeah, Nelson, why not?”
Charlie tilted his head the other way, looking at Nick with falsely innocent eyes. “Do you think I’m too small to play rugby?”
Amy crossed her arms, shaking her head. “That is so rude, Nick. Very size-ist of you.”
Nick was looking between them like a tennis match, trying to protest but unable to with Charlie and Amy volleying back and forth. Charlie put his hands on his hips. “You think I’m too weak to keep up with men whose entire professional life is playing a sport where they maul one another?”
Amy nodded somberly. “I agree with you, Charlie, do not stand for this insult.”
Charlie looked at Amy. “I think he’s calling me small and weak, Amy.”
“For shame, Nicholas.”
“Oh god, the two of you together,” Nick sighed, burying his head in his hands and making Charlie and Amy both laugh. Nick lifted his head back up and pointed at Charlie. “And this is coming from the man who asked me why the players weren’t getting a penalty kick when they picked the ball up with their hands during the match we watched together!”
Charlie laughed again, feeling warm and melty. He could joke with Nick. They could tease one another and have it be fine and not mean and authentically fun. “Okay, fine, you have me there,” Charlie admitted. He looked at Amy, holding his palms up in surrender. “I am very, very happy to not play rugby, I promise.”
Amy was unmoved. “I’m sorry, Charlie, this is not up to me, you are playing.”
Charlie narrowed his eyes and looked at her suspiciously. This was seeming less like a joke and more like the recurring literal nightmare Charlie had several times in secondary school, usually prompted by some catastrophic phys ed experience. “It very much seems like it is up to you. Also, I thought you were on my side here?!”
“I’m on the side of winning, Chazzie,” said Amy breezily, making Charlie break out in a startled laugh. “Nope, this is not my choice, not with the speed like you just showed on that run. Regan and I join in too and neither of us play; it’s not, like, tackling or anything, just touch rugby. Please?” She looked at him, seeming to actually want him to play. “Nick will show you how to play, right Nick?”
Nick smiled and nodded. His light brown eyes met Charlie’s and Charlie nearly melted on the spot when Nick spoke. “Please come play,” he said to Charlie, sounding like he actually, truly meant it. “I’d like you to play.”
Charlie debated saying no to, you know, attempting to play rugby with professional athletes who were likely three times his size, but the look Nick was giving him…”Okay,” he said, smiling at Nick despite himself.
Nick looked thrilled. “Really?”
“Yeah, as long as you promise I won’t get hurt!” Charlie was picturing a him-shaped hole in the side of the barn, thrown by some massive lad’s tackle.
“I promise, no one will hurt you,” said Nick, and his voice was so earnest that Charlie blushed. He looked down and then back at Nick, who was still smiling at him.
“Great!” said Amy after a pause, dusting off her hands like she had accomplished some gargantuan task. “I have some phone calls to make. It’ll stay light out for what, another 30 or so? Chop chop, Nicky, you have some instructing to do.” That made Charlie’s heart leap for two reasons. First - this was real, and he was actually going to have to play rugby with gigantic strong humans who earned their living playing a sport and not highlighting things on a Google doc. Second - rugby with Nick? That didn’t seem like it would help the whole managing-a-crush-on-Nick-via-scientific-observation way.
Nick glanced at his watch. “Yeah, and that might work perfectly, actually. Dinner should be ready at about the same time, too.” He looked at Charlie and smiled. “You in?”
Charlie shook his head morosely at Nick and nodded. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Nick extended a hand and Charlie unearthed himself from the blanket, taking Nick’s. It was warm and strong, just like Nick. Nick grinned at him. “Now where is your can-do attitude?”
“Oh, she left. Long ago.”
“Come on, then,” Nick said, laughing.
They went to the pasture and Nick grabbed a rugby ball (Nick confirmed that was its scientific name) from the barn. Nick set up an imaginary field with one of the paddock fences as the try line and reviewed the basic rules with Charlie, the ones that they had covered when they watched the Badgers match.
“Okay, we’ll be playing touch rugby tomorrow, so the only thing you have to do is avoid getting tagged,” explained Nick.
“Well, that, and being flattened by a human the size of a horse,” Charlie added helpfully.
Nick laughed. “No, no, I promise - it’s just touch and no tackling at all.” Nick put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as if to reassure him and Charlie felt like he was going to melt into the grass. “Now, take this ball - I’ll go about 5 metres away and try to tag you, you just dodge away and don’t let me touch you, okay?”
Don’t let Nick Nelson touch me, got it. Worst. Sport. Ever. Charlie nodded and took the ball, then sprinted to the right, cutting hard and then stepping back and surging forward again, avoiding Nick’s fingers by inches and shooting past him.
“That was brilliant, Charlie!” Nick called, the smile clear in his voice. “Come on, let’s do that again!”
Charlie grinned and they went back to it, running a few more dodges. Charlie was starting to feel not only less terrified but also…like he was enjoying himself? Nick was endlessly patient and enthusiastic. He never pointed out a mistake, only offered suggestions, and he seemed invested in Charlie’s success, not amused by any of his failures.
They stayed out there for some time, playing and laughing with one another. Charlie glanced up when the fairy lights strung along the paddock fence came on, lighting the two of them and the cows who occasionally ambled over curiously with a soft glow. Nick was slowly moving closer and closer to him before Charlie would start to run, and Charlie’s confidence was building. He was fast. He had known that since secondary, always one of the fastest in phys ed. Charlie might not have been skilled at volleyball or softball (his lack of talent in both a source of annoyance for Ben, whose company had several intramural teams), but he could run. Nick taught him how to use that, pointing out ways Charlie could move his body even more effectively.
Charlie had no idea how long he and Nick had been playing when they heard a shout, Amy calling across the road. “Hey! Dinner, you lot!”
Nick turned to Charlie and grinned, setting himself up in a three-point stance like a sprinter, only a metre or so away. “Okay,” he said, smirking at Charlie in a way that sped his heart up more than the running. “Last play, C. Spring. Time is winding down. It’s the last phase of the fixture. Your team is down, and every one of your teammates has been taken ill with scabies. It’s all you. You just need to get past the best, most talented, dashingly handsome-”
“Don’t forget endlessly humble,” interrupted Charlie with a grin.
“Yes, that too - most incredible, humblest fly-half in the world. Can you do it, Charlie?” Nick tried to look mean and intimidating but it came off unnaturally for him, more like constipation. Charlie imagined that the real professional rugby player Nick might have terrified the opposing teams, but the Lavender Fields one carried too many memories of freshly-baked scones to be truly intimidating. “Can you make it past this world-class athlete and win the entirety of the Champions Cup for your team, your nation, and your two biggest fans?” Nick waved without looking at Nellie and Henry, who were watching with blank bovine expressions.
Charlie laughed. “If I don’t, it’s because someone slowed me down with too many lemon cookies.”
“Excuses, excuses. And - go!”
Charlie bolted forward, dodging and feeling good. He stepped one direction and then the other, throwing Nick off before he recovered, lunging towards Charlie and gaining on him. Charlie spun and was about to sprint to the fence when he felt arms around him, pulling him down. It was like he was falling in gentle slow motion, landing on Nick’s chest with a tiny oof! sound.
Ohhhhh, Charlie wanted to stay here forever. He closed his eyes for a half a second before springing up and spinning to point at Nick, a smile painted on his face that might never leave. “I thought you said there would be no tackling in this scrimmage, Nicholas Nelson!”
Nick was breathing heavily and grinning at him, propping himself up on his hands with his chest heaving. “I can’t let you defeat me on my own turf!”
Charlie laughed and pushed himself up, Nick doing the same. They were facing each other, and Charlie was trying desperately to forget how good it felt to have Nick’s arms around him, even just as a tackle. He tried to clear his mind, looking at Nick, though it felt impossible. Charlie felt hot and fluttery, his mind just making popping noises and generating little heart bubbles like he was a character in The Sims. “Do you think - was that okay? Am I going to embarrass myself?”
Nick shook his head emphatically, his eyes glittering in the glow of the fairy lights. “No! Definitely not. You’re going to be brilliant.”
You’re going to be brilliant. Charlie smiled and was trying to think of how to respond when Amy yelled again that it was dinner time and if they didn’t eat a healthy balanced meal no one was getting dessert, do you hear me? No one. They both laughed and walked back to the house, chatting all the while, Nick telling Charlie how well he did, the conversation feeling easy and comfortable. They were…it was like they were friends. Nick and Charlie, friends. How about that.
Notes:
Next week is a Danny & James chapter, and then two weeks of Lavender Fields chapters to follow!
Ginger cookies:
Ingredients:
3/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 large egg, room temperature
1/4 cup molasses
2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
Additional sugarDirections:
In a large bowl, cream (heh) the butter and sugar until it is light and fluffy. Beat in the egg and the molasses.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves and salt. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the creamed mixture and mix well.
Roll the dough into small balls (heh. balls.), then roll in sugar. Place the balls (heh) 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets. Bake at 350° until puffy and lightly browned, 10-12 minutes.
Chapter 38: Charlie's POV: Badgers
Summary:
Charlie meets Nick’s friends from the Badgers and plays a rugby match with literal adult men.
Notes:
Thank you to the effervescing lemon sharks who are waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. You beta, you slay-ta, you make my day-ta.
If you're craving some absolutely delicious LF-AU-verse, Yojfull is writing Sowing Wild Lavender. And YES, it IS the story of Sarah Nelson's travels! It is AMAZING and includes both incredible recipes and the incomparable Sarah Nelson *getting some*. Don't tell Nick.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dinner was great, more comfortable and easy than Charlie could have ever imagined with a near-stranger and someone like Nick, a man attractive enough to burn out Charlie’s retinas. Amy immediately began rinsing Nick over the meal and Charlie joined in, looking over at Nick to make sure that he was authentically laughing and not just nodding along, secretly annoyed and tallying the score of his irritation with Charlie for later. No, Nick seemed like he was having fun, his face warm and smiling the entire time. When something was funny, Nick laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners and sparkling, bright and present. Charlie really loved watching Nick laugh.
Charlie also really liked to see Nick and Amy together, their friendship and affection for each other clear despite how much they made fun of one another. It reminded Charlie a bit of Elle, Tao and himself together, the three of them with a whole shared history and culture. Neither Nick nor Amy made it feel exclusionary, though, both of them nearly (and sometimes literally) speaking over one another in their eagerness to involve Charlie in the conversation. He knew it was probably a bit of an act - make the stranger/guest feel welcome - but it made him feel like an actual participant in the dinner, not just the spare person.
The whole meal was comfortable and hilarious, both Amy and Nick telling Charlie stories about the Badgers. Well - comfortable, hilarious, and a little terrifying, based on the anecdotes they were relating. Charlie was now basically expecting a herd of jumbo-sized men who could drink a bathtub full of alcohol each and had no shame about getting naked if what Amy and Nick had told him was any indication. He really had no idea what to actually expect, but if the Breakfast Blowout story that Amy and Nick told was to be believed, it might be wild. Charlie just hoped there wasn’t going to be a maple syrup chugging competition this weekend, because he would 100% win the vomiting contest that Nick had laughingly said always immediately followed.
The three of them stayed at the table for longer than Charlie had realised, Amy eventually looking at her phone and exclaiming at the time in surprise. “That’ll do it for me,” she said, getting up. “I need to rest up for the rest of these goons coming in tomorrow.” She shot Charlie a wink and he shook his head, feeling completely unready for it but unable to wipe the grin off his face.
“I should go to bed too,” said Charlie. He stretched and yawned, a little stiff from sitting at the table for so long. His jumper pulled up a bit and exposed his stomach and Charlie jerked it down, blushing. He didn’t want Nick to think the gay man was trying to undress in front of him. “I’ll see you two in the morning?”
Nick smiled back at him, the soft yellow light of the dining room making his cheeks look warm and pink. “I’ll have breakfast ready,” he promised.
That evening, Charlie took a few more notes, reflecting on everything that had happened in the last few hours: the run with Amy and the conversation with her afterwards, the rugby practice, and dinner. He opened his journal and added a few more bullet points to the list he was keeping, his list of things Nick showed him that he might want in a future partner. Charlie felt odd about adding any to the list - he didn’t think it was reasonable to expect to get all the things he wanted in one person, but he figured he could go back later and whittle the list down to the three or four that was reasonable for a person like him to get.
- Has friends that he cares about
- Has friends that care about him
- Is willing to teach me new things
- Is patient with me when teaching me new things
- Makes me feel like a part of things and includes me in conversations
Makes food like Nick Nelson
-
Breakfast was predictably amazing. God, Nick was not helping Charlie’s silly stupid crush on him when Nick pulled a giant, puffy, delicious…baked thing out of the oven. Nick explained that it was something called a Dutch baby, proudly showing it off to Amy and Charlie while it was gorgeous and puffed up, still in the pan. Charlie smiled at it… and then at Nick. Nick had a tiny bit of powdered sugar on his right cheek and Charlie wanted to brush it off. Instead he just oohed appreciatively with Amy and tried to school his face when Nick came back in with the sliced Dutch Baby, the spot of powdered sugar mercifully gone. Charlie snuck a glance at Nick’s face a few extra times just to be sure.
“Looks like the boys will be here in three hours or so,” Amy announced, looking at her phone.
“Oh yeah?” asked Charlie. “Did they message?”
“Nah, we all have Find My Friends on,” Amy said, showing Charlie the screen, a scattering of dots evident on top of the map. “Danny insisted that we do it so that this way, we can all make sure that we’re looking at the same moon every night.”
Charlie blinked and furrowed his brow. “But, uh…”
Nick waved him off and shook his head. “Don’t. We know.” Charlie laughed. “Yeah, we all have it on,” he continued, making side-eyes at Amy. “Well, all of us except one unnamed person named Amy Jameson.”
Amy tossed her hair. “I am a riddle wrapped in a mystery with a tiny little enigma pearl at the centre.”
Charlie laughed but had a momentary twinge of realisation, a sick-feeling one. He opened his phone, having entirely forgotten about Find My Friends. He looked at the dots of the people who shared their location with him, Elle and Tao clearly at their flat in London. He looked through the list, heart jolting a little when he saw that he was apparently still sharing location with Ben, immediately disconnecting and no longer allowing Ben and a few other people - Ben’s friends - to see his location. Charlie had a flash of memory from early in he and Ben’s relationship, before it was actually a relationship. Back when Ben ignored Charlie in the hallways of work and only occasionally answered his messages. One night when they were both out at different places, Charlie had shared his location with Ben, filled with desperate and pathetic hope that Ben would see how close they were and want to meet up. They had, and Charlie had felt so special. So wanted. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and tried to rejoin the conversation as smoothly as possible before excusing himself to go upstairs to work before the Badgers team members arrived.
Charlie worked for three hours, stealing occasional glances at the clock and finding it hard to focus on work. He was suddenly apprehensive again, nervous to spend time with strangers. Amy was one thing, but rugby players? Laddish Seb types who had probably spent time in changing rooms in secondary making homophobic jokes and throwing around insults? Charlie bounced from tab to tab on his browser, trying to stay focused on work but instead reading as many articles as he could find about the Badgers’ reaction to Danny and James coming out. It helped to soothe his nerves a bit. Clearly, anybody who was on the team had to be comfortable enough with queer men that they wouldn’t be cruel. Also clearly, two of the people coming to Lavender Fields were in fact Danny and James. Still, Charlie felt the ease of the meals with Nick and Amy slipping away, knowing and accepting that he was going to be the outsider once the team members arrived. They were Nick and Amy’s friends, not his.
That was okay, and expected. It truly was. Nick had planned this weekend with his friends for weeks and the last thing that Charlie wanted to do was get in the way. He needed to go downstairs quickly for lunch (Nick had insisted that there would be food and Charlie needed to have some), but he’d get out of the way and let Nick enjoy the time with his friends without needing to worry about making Charlie feel included. Nick did not need that pressure.
Charlie headed downstairs, thinking that he probably had enough time to grab some food and go back up before the lads all got there. He walked into the dining room and heard the soft kitchen sounds that he knew were Nick, Charlie’s smile forming and growing. The whole downstairs smelled amazing.
“God, it smells good,” Charlie said, leaning in the kitchen doorway and smiling at Nick, who looked up and grinned back. “You’re going to ruin me for Elle and Tao’s, I’m going to expect three meals a day from them when I’m there on Mondays and Tuesdays.”
Nick laughed. “You should message Tao and send him a shopping and recipe list to feed you when you’re there.”
Charlie snorted. He would love to picture the look on Tao’s face if he were to come back and insist that Tao treat him as an honoured guest. “I bet that would be so well received.”
“Reckon he’d run you out of Tao-wn?" Nick was smirking at him. Smirking. It should be illegal to smirk when a person looked like that and when the other person was wildly trying to suppress a crush on said smirking person.
“Oh god,” said Charlie, covering his face both to try to hide from the pun and to not have to look at Nick’s drop-dead gorgeous face for a moment.
“Get ready, there’s essentially two more of me coming in the next few minutes,” grinned Nick. He had told Charlie the day before that Tex and Danny were equal pun-lovers, with Danny calling themselves something like “The Daddies”, something that Charlie had definitely not thought about for an hour right before bed.
“Ugh, he’s right,” called a voice from down the hall, Amy already shaking her head as she approached. She put a hand on Charlie’s arm, looking at him with suppliant eyes. “Charlie, please don’t leave me alone with them.”
Charlie laughed and started to respond when all three of them heard a car coming up the drive. Charlie’s heart rate picked up and he took a step back into the kitchen, unsure now if he should get food and try to slip away. Or maybe just slip away, he didn’t want to be seen being the weird guy just slinking away to his room. Charlie only caught the second half of what Nick said, realising with a start that Nick was talking to him.
“Charlie? You coming?” Nick was poised in the doorway, not having left yet. He was looking at Charlie, his face the same happy, open one that Charlie had gotten to know over the last weeks.
Charlie flushed and tried to explain. “Oh, I didn’t…I don’t want to - don’t you all want to catch up?”
Amy rolled her eyes and smiled, coming into the kitchen then pushing Charlie towards the door. “Yeah, and we want to introduce you, too. Come on, you absolute boob.”
Charlie mumbled in weak protest, but felt a flush of embarrassed happiness, too. They both…Amy and Nick both seemed to want him to be a part of this. The greetings, at least. Charlie watched as the first car pulled up, a predictably attractive couple getting out. Charlie immediately recognised the man as one of the players he had guessed, the one named something Ridley that Nick had said was called Tex. Charlie had investigated him a bit online. His brother - twin, actually - appeared to be a queen and that seemed like a good start for how Tex would react to another gay man sharing a house with him that weekend. The woman with him had blonde with some purple streaks in her hair and was absolutely gorgeous, tall and lithe. The two of them hugged Amy and Nick fiercely, then the man made a beeline for Charlie.
“Howdy,” he said, tipping an invisible hat and extending his hand.
“Oh my god, people actually say that in real life?” murmured Charlie, shaking Tex’s hand back.
Tex laughed. “No, not really, just like to play up the stereotypes,” he said cheerfully. “Glad to meet ya, though!”
“Likewise,” said Charlie, a little in awe of this American Western movie caricature. He turned to the woman, offering his hand. “Hi, I’m Char-”
“Regan,” she said warmly, ignoring his hand and pulling Charlie into a hug. Oh. He tried to relax into it and returned the hug before stepping away.
Regan smiled at him. “Have you not gotten used to it from Amy yet? We’re a hugging people.” Charlie glanced at Nick quickly. Was Nick a hugging person? Was there a world, a sweet blessed gorgeous world, where Nick might hug him too? They had hugged, of course, when Charlie had returned. A tiny flame of hope burst into life in Charlie’s chest, that maybe he and Nick would hug every time Charlie arrived at Lavender Fields each week. Fuck, that was not going to help his stupid crush either. He needed Nick to stop, like, showering or something. That might help.
“So, Nelson, where are we staying? Are there any portraits in our room this time?” asked Tex.
Nick laughed. “No, they’re only in Room 5 and then in that hallway, why?”
Tex grinned, making a cheeky face at Nick. “I like that one in room 5, the angry-looking woman one. She looks like she’d tell me off if she knew I’d been bad.”
Charlie laughed and then blushed. Nick looked over at him and smiled, then addressed Tex. “Sadly, only Danny and James will be judged by her glassy stare. Sorry to ruin your plans.” Then Nick put on a falsely innocent expression, looking at Charlie again. “But Charlie, I’d be willing to risk inevitable haunting by moving them if you’d prefer that I move all of them in your room instead!”
Charlie didn’t even have to act horrified, the smile sliding from his face as he imagined sets of glassy dead eyes watching him as he slept or did…other things that he sometimes did before sleeping. Like journaling. “I would never sleep again,” said Charlie, shaking his head firmly as Regan and Tex laughed. “No thank you.”
Regan nodded and linked her arm with Charlie’s. “Smart man. Those are fucking terrifying, Nick.”
“They’re harmless,” Nick said reassuringly. “Until they bite off your toes to suck out your spirit.”
“Nick!” Charlie said in an unintentionally high voice, and Regan let go of his arm to swat at Nick too. Nick was laughing and trying to get away when they were all distracted by the sound of muffled bass thumping.
“And then this will be Danny and James,” Nick said, looking towards the road.
A black Range Rover tore up the drive, spraying a few pieces of crushed shell as it turned sharply and parked. There was a brief moment before the driver’s side opened and a man got out, a staggeringly attractive one that Charlie immediately recognised as James Walker. He was wearing jeans and a white long sleeve v-neck t-shirt, the sleeves pushed back and clearly straining against his muscles. He was wearing sunnies and Charlie suddenly understood the frustration once noted in Danny’s Insta caption, lamenting that there were no words to explain how truly astounding it was to look at James in person. James grinned as he walked up onto the porch, hugging his friends and taking a beer from Tex.
Charlie hung back, feeling shy and awkward again. Then James caught sight of him and made his way over, immediately extending his hand.
“Hey,” James said, sunnies off now and nearly blinding Charlie with his jawline. “Nick said that he had a friend staying. You’re Charlie, yeah?”
Nick…told them about me? There wasn’t time to process that and how confusingly lovely that thought was. He took James’s hand. “Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you.”
There was another one for the list, Charlie thought wildly as James gave him another friendly smile. ‘Has friends who don’t ignore me’. He knew that Elle would have said he could frame that more positively, and Charlie mentally crossed it out and tried again. ‘Has friends who actively make me feel welcome.’
“James?” Amy called over. “Why is your man still in the car?”
James ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “He’s waiting until he has everyone’s attention; you know that. He’s…well, just wait.”
Charlie looked towards the car and waited along with everyone else. He saw the toe of a boot peek out, then a leg in amazingly dated acid-washed jeans. He covered his mouth and tried to suppress a laugh when Danny Turner got fully out of the car, the jeans actually manifesting as coveralls, no shirt underneath. He had on a cowboy hat pulled low and seemed to be chewing on something. Just seeing him made Charlie grin, and he felt a giggle trying to escape. Danny just seemed to have infectious energy about him and Charlie couldn’t pull his eyes away.
“He made me stop to pick that piece of grass for him to have in his mouth, you know,” said James in a flat voice.
Danny made his way slowly toward the porch in an exaggerated cowboy walk, swinging his hips and tipping his hat at literally everything, saying, “ma’am” to people and porch bannisters in equal measure.
Regan shook her head, looking both confused and happily resigned to whatever was happening. “Danny…why?”
“Ol’ Tex here grew up on a ranch,” said Danny. He had on an American Texan accent that was truly atrocious, Charlie laughing and wincing. “Then we’ve got farmer Nick. I wanted to fit in with the locals, really look the part. Y’know, be like a cow.”
There was a long silence and Charlie glanced over at Nick to see him grinning. Amy finally broke it, her voice completely devoid of emotion. “Like a cow how.”
Danny lifted the brim of the cowboy hat high enough to reveal his arched eyebrow. “Outstanding in my field.”
Charlie suppressed a laugh and the rest of the group burst into a combination of boos and laughter as Danny dropped the act and seized Nick. “Oh, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky boy, I’ve missed you. And not just because you’re one of The Daddies who understands my jokes unlike this absolute drongo god that I live with and love with all my soul.”
This time Charlie snorted and Danny whipped around, releasing Nick. Charlie made a tiny eep sound as the massive shape of Danny Turner collided with him, finding himself suddenly and confusingly immersed in enormous arms. “I heard we had an extra this week,” sang Danny, leaning Charlie from side to side in a tight embrace. “Remind me of your name?”
“Charlie,” squeaked Charlie. The sensation of the hug wasn’t unlike what he imagined mechanical suffocation from a boa constrictor to be like.
“Charlie!” cheered Danny as he let Charlie go, clapping him on the back with enough power to make Charlie nearly stumble. “Welcome to a weekend of goon and goons; you’ll fit right in.”
Charlie opened his mouth to respond but had almost no idea what Danny meant. Tex put a hand on his shoulder and Charlie looked at him. “He means drinking and idiots,” Tex said with a grin, “Which is us.”
“Come on, everyone, get inside!” Nick said, opening the door, Charlie followed everyone inside and hung back from the happy chatter, everyone smiling and catching up with one another. The amount of sheer bulk in the home was overwhelming and a little intoxicating. Charlie glanced at the clock, aware of his work schedule.
“I’m going to get back to work,” Charlie said quietly to Nick. “I’ll see you for dinner?” The question slipped out unintended, and he felt a sickening lurch of regret. Charlie was used to dinner with Nick, but that was without Nick’s friends there. God, Nick probably thought he was so presumptuous.
“Yeah,” Nick responded, looking happier than Charlie had ever seen him, which was saying something. “You’re going to join for dinner, right?”
“If…if that’s all right, yeah,” said Charlie, feeling flushed and pleased, heat rising in his chest at Nick’s repetition of the question. Nick tilted his head to give Charlie a stern look, and Charlie held up his hands laughing before Nick could even say anything. “Okay, yes, yes, I know.”
“Good,” said Nick, smiling. There was a brief pause and then Nick blinked, face relaxing into an easy look. “I’m making pizza dough and pizzas - any toppings you like?”
“You’re making the dough yourself?” Was there nothing Nick Nelson couldn’t do? Besides being utterly unlovable for even one second?
“Yeah, I…” Nick ran his hand through his hair and Charlie tried hard to pull his eyes from it. “Yeah.” He grinned, then pointed at Charlie. “Toppings?”
“Hmm,” said Charlie, thinking. On the rare occasions Ben had a “cheat night” he liked to load the pizza for them with heavy meats that Charlie usually picked off and put on a sad pile on the side of his plate. It’s protein, Charlie, if I’m doing carbs I need to balance with more protein. “I like pretty much all veg on a pizza - I’m definitely pro jalapeno and pineapple, which I know is controversial-”
“Which is correct,” Nick interrupted.
Charlie grinned. “Yes, that is correct,” he amended. “And oh, of course, olives. Any kind or colour.”
Nick’s face fell and he shook his head, slowly. “I knew there had to be something wrong with you, Charlie. Olives?”
Charlie snorted, suppressing the squirm of delight at Nick implying that there was little wrong with Charlie. “Yes, olives. Are you telling me you have no taste?”
“I’m saying something’s a Kalamata with you.”
Charlie laughed and then pressed his lips together and tried to look disapproving, pointing towards his room upstairs where work awaited. “With that, I choose capitalism.”
Nick laughed too and touched Charlie lightly on the shoulder. It felt warmer than it should have in Charlie’s body. “See you tonight.”
Charlie headed upstairs and got to work, though he was endlessly distracted, thinking about all of it - the talk with Amy last night, the rugby practise with Nick, the Badgers and Regan, Nick gently tackling him last night, how friendly everyone was, the feeling of Nick’s arms around him even for sport… He shook his head, realising that he had been completely out of it during a meeting. He refocused and nodded seriously, the words from the meeting flowing over and around him.
Once the meeting ended, Charlie tried to buckle down only to hear shouts. He made his way over to a window on the side of the house overlooking the road and the barn. He could see heads bobbing and occasional glimpses of the lads messing about, a rugby ball tucked under an arm or bodies moving around. The few times he could see faces, they all looked happy, breath white in the air. Charlie thought back to the times that Ben’s friends were together. Most of the guys he was friends with were either from his gym or his finance company, where Ben had moved to after he and Charlie started dating. Hooking up. That was what Ben had called it at least, for the first year, maybe a year and a half.
Regardless, that group of men and their partners had only gotten together in bars, most often swanky cocktail lounges. Charlie always felt wooden in their group, Ben and his friends often talking about work, their workouts, and judging the people in their company and gym. The group was mostly made up of attractive gay men, and Charlie always felt awkward and out of place in the perfectly groomed, coiffed, icy group of people. The bond between that group seemed to be focused only on success, both financial and physical. Charlie had only been around Nick’s friends for a little while, but they seemed to actually like each other. They had hugged one another and Charlie even heard them saying they loved each other, which he hadn’t expected a bunch of rugby lads to do. They were…they were nice. Like Nick. Nick, who wanted him to come to dinner with his friends. Not like Ben, who told Charlie to come only when other people’s partners were coming. Not like Ben at all.
Charlie finally wrested himself back to work, occasionally hearing thumps and happy yells from downstairs and wondering what the fuck was happening. He had finally immersed himself in work and hadn’t realised what time it was when there was a gentle knock on the door. Charlie opened it, already feeling warm and happy and knowing it was Nick. He had to guess Amy was a lot less of a “gentle knock” type and a lot more of a “tiny rhinoceros barrelling down a door” type. Tinoceros. Oh god. What had Nick done to him?
Charlie grinned at that and opened the door to see Nick. Nick, who was smiling back. There was a pause and then Nick gathered himself. “Do you want to come down for dinner? I made pizzas, so everyone can pick their own toppings and make what they like. I know you’re a monster who said that you like olives, so I even committed the ultimate sin and bought a jar for you.”
“Just wait,” said Charlie, raising a warning finger. “Try them on pizza and I bet you’ll change your tune.”
Nick screwed up his face like Charlie had suggested putting sun-warmed raw clams on his pizza. “No, I prefer to keep my pizza pure and devoid of salty hatred.” Charlie laughed loudly, then sighed in mock-disappointment.
“You have not lived, Nick.”
Nick smiled and inclined his head towards the stairs “So, do you want to come down? That lot was all saying they wanted to chat with you more.”
Charlie felt an odd mixture of confusion and delight. “They…do?” That was new. Clearly Nick had invited Charlie to come to dinner, but his friends? That was probably just Nick being nice, Charlie knew.
Nick looked puzzled. “Uh, yeah?”
“I, uh - yeah, that sounds nice,” said Charlie. “I’m done now, I’ll come down with you.” He and Nick chatted on their way downstairs, and Charlie blushed when the rugby lads raised a cheer when he came into view, Danny toasting a wine glass and Tex raising both fists in the air.
“There he is!”
“Oi oi!”
Danny stood up, beamed and patted the top of the open chair next to him, James on his other side. “Charlie Spring. Springtime. Springer Spaniel. We’ve never gotten to interact with Lavender Fields guests before; Sarah forbade it. Things have really gone to shite with Nicky here at the helm.”
Charlie laughed and made his way over. Nick laughed too, rolling his eyes. “Sarah is just smarter than Nick is,” Nick interjected. “She knew that business would evaporate if I turned you lot loose on poor, unsuspecting guests.”
Danny put both hands on Charlie’s shoulders as if protecting him. “Charlie’s a guest!”
Charlie jumped when he felt arms wrap around him from behind, then laughed when Amy tucked her chin over his shoulder. They really were a huggy bunch. “Charlie’s a fruest,” Amy proclaimed. “A friend-guest.”
Charlie relaxed into her embrace and put his hands on Amy’s, then pointed to Nick, feeling warm and safe and happy and comfortable. He pointed at Nick with one hand. “No, I’m a tenant of this landlord. He’s letting me stay here for way longer than he probably should while the flat I’m moving to gets fixed up.”
“New place, huh?” asked Tex as Charlie settled into the chair next to Danny. “What made you move?”
Oh. There went the warmth and safety and happiness. Why was Charlie here? He was here because he was engaged a month and a half ago and wasn’t any more. He was here because he had dated someone who had been emotionally abusive and hadn’t seen it. Charlie was here because of lost flats and lost years and he had momentarily forgotten all of that, being with Nick again. This group didn’t need to know all of that, though. They were here to have fun, not be dragged down. “I had it out with my ex-fiancé,” Charlie said, looking down at his hands. “He ended up staying at the old place, so I got myself somewhere new. New place, new life, you know?”
Charlie looked up, a wine glass pushed into his hand by Amy who was now sitting across the table from him. “Hell yes,” she said, cheersing her glass with his. “And no conversation about exes without alcohol, ever.”
“Bloody oath,” agreed Danny, chinking his glass against Charlie’s too. “Fuck. That’s shit, mate. On a scale of ‘one to fuckwit’, where does this wanker land?”
“He’s a nine point Caden,” Amy said, and Danny and James both growled, both scaring and affirming Charlie. “Worse, actually.”
“Fuck that guy,” said James, leaning around Danny to point his fork at Charlie, then Amy. “Both of them being ‘that guy’.”
“Oh, so this one is a true fuck knuckle,” said Danny, making a disgusted sound and turning to Charlie, who was looking down and trying to shrink into his chair. They were all being lovely and friendly, but fuck, now all of the attention was on him. He was taking up too much space in a space that wasn’t his, and it wasn’t just the embarrassment of that. It was also that Charlie had almost entirely forgotten about Ben over the last 48 hours and now here he was again, a giant indelible stamp in Charlie’s brain that felt impossible to fully scrub away. “What, did he-” Then Danny seemed to cotton on to Charlie’s discomfort. “Right, shut the fuck up, Turner,” he said, nudging Charlie with his shoulder. “Well, maybe he’ll drown in a dunny soon trying to hang out with his friends, the fellow pieces of shit, and we’ll all have a belter to celebrate, yeah?”
Charlie looked blankly at Nick for help translating, but James spoke first, leaning past Danny with a kind and scholarly tone. “Dunny means toilet.”
“I’d be so lucky,” Charlie snorted, feeling a little brighter but still wanting to get the attention off of himself. “But yeah - Nick’s been really kind to let me stay here for a bit while the new place gets ready.” He grinned at Nick, only feeling a little guilty that he was using Nick to shift the focus. Nick blushed and looked down at his lap, shaking his head like he wasn’t aware that he was the kindest and friendliest human on the planet. And hot as fuck.
“Nick’s a gem,” added Regan to general agreement.
Tex leaned back in his chair. “He’s as fine as a frog hair split four ways.” That made everyone laugh including Charlie, feeling even better now.
“He’s…okay,” said Amy flatly.
Nick’s neck was red as he took out his phone and spoke firmly into it. “Siri, what is an anti-bullying hotline number I can call?” He met eyes with Charlie and smiled, and Charlie relaxed fully again, grinning back. Nick was just so easy-going and relaxed. Charlie was so glad that he was at Lavender Fields again.
Like he read his thoughts, James learned over and addressed Charlie. “How long are you here for?”
“I think four weeks or so,” Charlie replied. “They said it would be ready during the first part of December.”
James nodded. “I feel like those things always take so much longer than they say,” he said, launching into a story about when he lived with who Charlie knew was the Badgers’ former captain. Charlie half-listened, but inside he was drifting away on a tiny silly dream, imagining the work in his flat stretching for a few months like it sounded like James’s flat had. Staying with Nick Nelson for several months and getting to eat his cooking and non-obviously stare at his strong arms as Nick reached for something on a high shelf? That seemed both wonderful and daunting at the same time.
Charlie broke out of his reverie when Nick spoke, never wanting to miss a thing that Nick said. Nick was pointing at James with friendly accusation. “Don’t lie, you made up the fact that the work got extended to keep eating Annette’s cooking.”
Charlie grinned at Nick. “I mean, good cooking is a strong incentive to stay somewhere.” Nick blushed and Charlie had to look down at his plate to avoid smiling like a goober.
After a little more chatter, Nick got the pizzas and salad and they all tucked into the food. To Charlie’s delight (but not surprise, which in itself was a surprise), the conversation was easy and welcoming, everyone making an effort to include Charlie just like Nick and Amy had the night before. Tex and Regan told the story of how they met, and Charlie marvelled at a tiny moment between them. Regan seemed embarrassed of their origin story and Tex paused before telling it, assuring her they didn’t have to. It was tiny and casual and monumental: the idea that a partner would check in before telling a story. That had never happened with Ben. Come to think of it, Charlie wasn’t sure that had happened with any partner, and Charlie made a mental note of another thing to add to the list.
Then it came round to Danny and James, Charlie looking over at the two of them with a smile. “And you two?”
Danny grinned, nudging James. “We met in uni. We were freshers in the same dorm together. Roomies.”
Charlie smiled. He hadn’t gone back in their history on Google far enough to know that, and loved the thought of uni Danny and James living in the same building. “And you’ve been together…since then?”
James had been leaning forward with a smile, which shifted into something tighter, though he didn’t drop Charlie’s gaze. “No, that…that took a bit,” James replied. Charlie felt his heart speed up, realising that he might have fucked up and ruined it all. Fuck, he thought desperately, glancing sidelong at Nick to see how upset he was. Ben had only sighed in the car after the few times Charlie had been invited to go out with his friends, recalling something awkward Charlie had said and asking why Charlie had felt compelled to say something like that. Nick leaned forward, not looking upset but opening his mouth to speak. Charlie was about to apologise but Danny leaned back, his hand on the back of James’s neck and resting comfortably.
“Fucking worth it though,” said Danny cheerfully. “Now I get to live with Superman - c’mon, Charlie, admit he looks like Henry Cavill, am I right? - and get to pash him every single goddamn day. One hundred percent fucking worth it.”
Charlie felt his heart settle at Danny’s easy energy and James’s authentic smile back at Danny. Wow, he really did look like Henry Cavill. “Well, cheers to that.”
“Amen,” said Amy and Regan in unison.
“Gay-men,” Danny said firmly, winking at Charlie and making him laugh and fully relax again. God, Nick had lovely friends. The rest of dinner was nice, the group sharing stories and always pausing to give Charlie the details about anything that wouldn’t have been immediately obvious. There were endless stories about Seamus - and a truly impressive number of ones that involved Danny lightly harassing him - and Charlie was eager to meet him as well, too.
After dinner, Charlie successfully fought to carry some of the plates to the kitchen, though Nick physically blocked the dishwasher and sink so Charlie couldn’t do anything else, both of them laughing as they each tried to dodge around each other. He settled for handing Nick the plates one by one, Nick rinsing them and placing them in the dishwasher while the rest of the group went to the parlour despite their protests about helping. Nick and Charlie chatted as they worked, Charlie lingering to take in the solo moments with Nick. He really did like Nick’s friends - a lot - but there was something special about getting to have one on one time with Nick.
They finished and Nick dried his hands, throwing a towel to Charlie. Charlie did the same and placed it down, hanging back in the kitchen when Nick went to leave. Nick looked back at him, his head tilted. “Should I…I might go up to my room,” said Charlie, knowing that Nick deserved some time with just his friends. “Since I have to work tomorrow.”
Did…did Nick look a little disappointed? No, right? “Oh.” Nick paused. “Are you sure?”
“Well, you’re also all - like, friends, you know?” Charlie said, wanting it to be clear that he didn’t want to be a full-on social barnacle. “Like, dinner is one thing, since you’re now a bed-and-breakfast-and-other-meals.” Nick chuckled. “And I don’t want to interrupt like some…” Charlie added it up. “Seventh wheel?”
“I’ve been the fifth or sixth or seventh wheel for a while, so come join,” Nick insisted, jerking his shoulder towards the parlour, then leaning in and grinning, the half-hitched smile that did nothing to repress Charlie’s now fully out-of-control crush on Nick. “I wheel-y want you to.”
Well, there went his crush. Not really, though. Charlie tried to make himself look disappointed, but his lips quirked at his repressed smile. “You wheely, wheely do?”
Nick gasped. “Charlie, yes!”
“Charlie no,” Charlie laughed, shaking his head.
“Come on, you two, Nemo isn’t going to find himself!” called Danny from the parlour.
Charlie laughed. He loved the idea of giant rugby lads with bright eyes and their arms wrapped around their knees, watching Pixar. “Are we really watching Finding Nemo?”
“Danny insists that it’s positive Aussie representation and it’s both homophobic and xenophobic to not have it on at least once a month,” said Nick with a fond look that made Charlie feel unreasonably melty. “But we usually ignore any movie and just talk anyway. So,” Nick finished, looking at Charlie. “You’re joining, right?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, the grin creeping back over his face. “I will.”
Like dinner, like the porch, like every experience with Nick and the people in his life - it was lovely. This group was just fun. All of them rinsed each other and laughed and chatted, more stories and jokes coming out. It really was staggering how large some of these men were in real life. There were giant bodies all around him, but they all seemed gentle too. Well, for now, before the terrifying rugby match tomorrow. At the moment, though, they were all friendly and funny, loose and happy. No one formed tight clusters, blocking people out and making them feel awkward and unwelcome.
Danny and James were on a loveseat that was entirely too small for them, though neither one seemed bothered. That alone was pleasantly astonishing to Charlie, to see the two of them so comfortable being affectionate with each other. They’d hold hands, touch each other’s leg or arm or neck, run fingers through one another’s hair, and no one blinked. Charlie felt another surge of affection and dizzying appreciation for Nick and Tex; that two straight men would be completely unphased by queer love in front of them.
The group stayed up and talked for a few hours before most of them started drifting off to bed, Charlie agreeing to run with Amy again the next morning with only a little trepidation. She chivvied the rest of them off, too, reminding them that they had a match tomorrow, with a menace-filled wink at Charlie, who glared back at her, though without heat. Then it was just Nick and Charlie again.
There was a moment of silence before they both spoke at the same time.
“So,” started Nick. “Did you-”
“D’you think they-”
“Oh, sorry, you go-”
“No, sorry, you-”
“Sor-”
“Toll!”
“You did it too!”
“…Well, we’re watching a rugby match anyway tomorrow, so we can cancel this toll,” said Nick, laughing lightly. “But, uh - did you…do you like them?” He asked it like the answer actually mattered. Like it meant something to him that Charlie liked his friends. That felt…Charlie didn’t know how that felt. He’d never felt that before, maybe - someone caring about what Charlie thought of their friends.
“They’re really great. I really do like them,” Charlie said, truly meaning it. “Everyone is just…nice, you know?” He reflected on his thoughts about Danny and James and decided to just say it. Nick deserved to know what a good ally he was. “And it’s like - kind of weird, I guess, to see two guys like Danny and James just so comfortable with being together in front of other people. Which makes me feel so small-minded to say - like what, just because they’re too stereotypically rugby-looking lads, it’s weird to see them being gay? It’s just…nice, I guess. That you all are so comfortable with them, and they’re so comfortable with you.” And each other, Charlie thought morosely, thinking of Ben.
“Yeah,” said Nick hesitantly, and Charlie realised with a jolt that he had said that last part out loud. Fuck.
Charlie cleared his throat, trying to steamroll his own awkwardness away. “Anyway,” he said, straightening up. He wanted to walk the fine line of intimating that he would be free tomorrow afternoon for a truck ride without saying it, his bravery mostly used up after a day of being around new people. “Tomorrow should be a lighter day of work. I might be able to finish up a little early.”
“That’s great!” exclaimed Nick, making Charlie’s stupid shrivelled heart jump. “I have to go to town again tomorrow to drop off all of the stuff for the markets, reckon you’d like to join?”
Charlie smiled back, trying to suppress himself from dancing around in glee. “I mean…only if timing worked out for you.”
“I got nothing but time,” replied Nick in a breezy, cheeky voice. “Think you’d be done round…what, like three?”
Charlie had been happy since he got back to Lavender Fields, but now he was delighted. Time with Nick. Just the two of them. “That should work,” he said with a small shrug, trying to play it cool.
“Then I’ll see you at three,” said Nick. He took a step towards Charlie and Charlie felt his heart leap once more, wondering if Nick might…hug him? Hug him goodnight? No, that wasn’t reasonable to expect. Not even Elle and Tao and him hugged each other goodnight when Charlie was at their place. And as expected, Nick didn’t, swinging his arm forward and giving Charlie a laddish pat on the shoulder. Charlie felt his heart fall, though he knew it shouldn’t.
“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Nick.
Charlie smiled back softly “Goodnight, Nick.”
That night, he added a few more bullets.
- Checks in with me when we’re in groups of people
- Cares about what I think about their friends
- Wants to share a loveseat with me
- Not afraid to hold my hand
Makes eye contact like Nick Nelson
-
Nick’s friends seemed to actually want to hang out with Charlie. After the run with Amy (where after another chat about exes she promised him that she’d send the Spotify list she made after the breakup with Caden), Charlie said hi to the crew, all gathered around the dining room table. A literal cheer went up when Charlie mentioned trying to finish early to join the happy hour, making him blush.
The work day seemed to drag by, Charlie realising that he was authentically excited to see the group again. That feeling around Nick was unsurprising of course, and maybe Amy too, but Charlie hadn’t predicted how much he was going to enjoy being around the Badgers.
He was able to wrap the day by three, going downstairs to an unreasonably quiet house. Charlie grinned as went into the parlour, seeing bodies draped all over the furniture, the group fast asleep. Charlie tiptoed to the living room and found Nick there, lacing up his boots. He spoke quietly, trying not to disturb the forest of felled trees in the parlour. “I see everyone got started early?”
Nick nodded wryly and chuckled. “It’s going to be a hedonistic next couple of days, Charlie.”
“They look like a Renaissance painting called Rugby in Repose.”
Nick laughed but tried to smother it. “You ready to go?”
Charlie was. They got in the truck and Nick handed Charlie the aux cord with a smile, which made Charlie smile, too. It felt like the first, tiny little inside them thing - that when they rode in the truck, Charlie played the music. It was casual and expected and made Charlie feel so good. He had made a new playlist in the weeks when he’d been back in London, so many songs making him think about Nick. Nick nodded happily along to every song but clearly seemed to get into some more than others, like Baby Queen’s Dover Beach, one of Charlie’s current favourites despite it being a bit older.
The trip to town was nice, too, both of them laughing and joking. Charlie got an iced coffee and Nick reacted with polite incredulity that Charlie got something cold on a frigid day. Charlie made a gay joke and Nick seemed more comfortable, at least seeming to realise he was allowed to laugh.
Charlie really, really loved making Nick laugh.
Nick drove them back to Lavender Fields a different way, the road bordered by a stream. There were old, large trees alongside the water and it was gorgeous, even though everything was a little muted in the oppressiveness of winter. Nick was telling him all about the area and what it looked like in warmer months. “You should see it in April and May,” he told Charlie. “It’s just so lush and green, you’ll love it.”
Charlie looked over, imagining the blossoms and soft greens. “I - yeah.” Charlie felt a tug, the gentle fantasy dissolving under the weight of reality. Spring would be at Lavender Fields in a few months, but Charlie wouldn’t be. He tried to shunt that aside in his mind, enjoy the time here and with Nick now. Charlie figured this might be a good time to tell Nick about some of the work he got immersed in the previous day. “So, I did some chatting at the office when I was there this week. One of my colleagues, Anita - she thinks that there would be a great market for a ‘Taste of Bed and Breakfast at Home’ type of cookbook. I know you had just mentioned putting the recipes for your mum together in a cookbook for her, but would you - do you think she’d want to sell them, too?”
Nick glanced over, his eyes wide and amazed. “Seriously?”
“Yes?” said Charlie, smiling and tilting his head. They’d talked about this a little - did Nick not remember?
“Oh my god, that would be unreal,” enthused Nick. “She’d die! I’d die!”
Charlie laughed. “I don’t want that.”
Nick shook his head and looked at Charlie again before drawing his eyes back to the road, a disbelieving smile on his full, perfect lips. “You’re…that’s incredible, Charlie. Thank you so much for, like - asking around about that. You truly didn’t have to do that; I thought it would just be you showing me how to copy-paste into some template.”
Charlie flushed, feeling warm. He was doing something “incredible” for Nick, and that made him feel…well, that made him feel a lot of things. Most of which were not appropriate to say out loud and could wait until he was alone in his room at Lavender Fields. “Well, she deserves more than that, it sounds like. I’ve been benefiting from her cooking; I should know.”
Nick snorted. “Her cooking.”
“Sorry,” said Charlie, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Her recipes, Nick Nelson’s cooking.”
“Thank you,” Nick replied primly, making both of them laugh. They chatted as they drove the rest of the way back, Nick telling Charlie more about his mum. Charlie opened up a little, too, telling Nick about Olly and Tori, Nick asking questions about both of them. All the while, Charlie kept imagining the pages of the cookbook he and Anita had started to mock up. Charlie wanted to do something for Nick that could start to repay the generosity and kindness Nick had shown him. There were some weeks he was less motivated at his job, but Charlie knew this project was going to keep him occupied and driven. Anything that could make Nick happy was something Charlie wanted to do. To pay him back, that was.
They walked back into the house to a riot of activity, everyone gathered in the kitchen. “Charlie,” James called, popping his head into view even before Charlie could get his shoes off. “What’s your poison?”
Charlie looked over in surprise, not even realising at first when Nick gently took the bags Charlie insisted on carrying in from his hands. It felt…it felt really nice to be included like this. “Oh, what’ve you got?
“Anything you want, Chuckie,” Amy’s voice rang in his ear, her arms squeezing his shoulders and making him jump and laugh. “James here is basically Tom Cruise in Cocktail, just minus the Scientology and weirdness.”
Now Danny’s head thrust into view, a cheeky grin on his face. “And he’s great with a hard cock…tail.”
Tex was in the dining room drinking a beer, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He shook his head at Danny. “Too obvious. You’re better than that.”
Nick was nodding soberly. “Yeah. That was a real cock-fail, Danny.” Charlie tried and failed to bite back a laugh at that one, trying to turn away. Nick whirled on him, his face aglow. “You laughed!”
“I didn’t!” protested Charlie, fully laughing now.
Nick turned to the room, hands outstretched beseechingly. “Jury of my peers?”
Tex gave Charlie a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Charlie, that’s a laugh,” and Regan agreed with him.
Danny cheered from the kitchen. “Ace! A win for Daddies everywhere!”
“Fine,” said Charlie, laughing with the rest of them. “You got me.”
“Yes, I did,” said Nick smugly. Charlie felt his whole neck flush. A man like Nick saying that to him in a different context…Charlie might need a few minutes before going to sleep that night. You got me. The words made him shiver, fantasising about a different, imaginary Nick saying those words to him. He could picture Imaginary Nick saying that to him in a low voice, callused hand reaching out towards Charlie’s face. A Nick that - Charlie gulped and focused, bringing himself back to the conversation. They were all watching a rugby game - match - that evening, their former teammate Seamus on one of the teams.
They all took food upstairs into Nick’s living room, piling onto the sofas and the floor. The lads asked if Charlie had watched a match with Nick before and Charlie confirmed that he had, the Badgers reacting with hilarity and delight when Charlie lightly teased Nick. Nick laughed and sent Charlie a glowing look, one that made Charlie’s heart’s swell. It was at that moment when Charlie felt one hundred percent secure in his friendship with Nick and knew that they actually were friends, despite their odd setup. They were… friends. Nick finally shushed them all and devastatingly made the boys stop showing Charlie memes that had been made of Nick when he was injured one time and watching the match from the sideline, banning all phones, “In respect of Seamus and the great teams of our nation.”
The match seemed tense and Charlie found himself utterly drawn into it. There were cheers and groans in unison, then yelling when there was a hit on Seamus that was apparently illegal. Charlie noticed Amy out of the corner of his eye, chewing on her nail and watching the TV closely. Huh, he thought. Maybe Amy and Seamus were just as close and Nick and Amy were. The match ended with Seamus’s team up, the group all lingering until Seamus messaged the Badgers to let them know he was on his way.
“Excellent, let’s get derro so he feels welcome and peer pressured to drink heavily to catch up with us,” Danny enthused.
Charlie laughed. “This sounds like the start of an anti-drinking assembly in secondary.”
Danny snapped his fingers and pointed to Charlie, grinning. “Perfect. Those always ended amazingly for the main characters, right?”
“Charlie, are you playing in the scrimmage tomorrow?” asked James.
“No,” Charlie said firmly at the same time as Nick and Amy loudly said, “Yes.”
James laughed. “Sorry, Charlie, two against one.”
“That’s right,” Tex agreed. “I know math real good and you just got outvoted.”
“You’re from Texas,” Amy said. “Don’t you only learn math via the Bible?”
“Fair,” Tex conceded. “Amen.”
Danny pointed at Amy. “You said you ran with him today. Is he fast?” He pointed at Charlie. “Are you fast? You look fast as fuck, mate.” Charlie laughed and flushed, shaking his head and holding up his hands. He still had not accepted that he was going to play rugby with men seventeen times his size who could quite literally launch him into his room with one well-aimed throw.
“I’ve done my scouting, you do your own,” Amy said to Danny, wagging a finger at him.
Danny grinned and abandoned her, turning to Charlie. “Race you down the stairs? For totally normal, non-competitive advantage-seeking reasons?”
Charlie laughed. “I can see the headline tomorrow: Rugby lad out for several months with broken leg after falling down antique wooden stairs and crashing into haunted portraits at the landing; reportedly deeply possessed.”
Danny laughed loudly, the rich, full sound making Charlie jump, and then laugh. It was just so infectious and welcoming. “Charlie fucking Spring. We didn’t know we needed you in this group until we met you, you menace-laden cunt.”
Charlie laughed hard that time, jolted both by the language and the emphatic insistence that Charlie was actually…part of them. It wasn’t true, really - these were Nick’s friends, but this weekend, he was part of them. He was still going to literally die tomorrow, but at least he’d be among people who made him feel included immediately before his demise. He joined everyone downstairs and even took a shot, comfortable enough that he wasn’t afraid of what harsh jokes and barbs might come out when people had started drinking. Ben and his friends had let their tongues get sharper and their criticism crueller when they drank. Charlie had a sense that it wasn’t like that with this group. He laughed and drank and chatted, often with Nick or Amy but comfortable when he wasn’t. It was…it was really, really nice.
The Badgers’ phones collectively went off later, Seamus pinging them all to let them know that he was arriving soon. Charlie hung back behind the group as Seamus pulled up, though he was quickly pulled in and welcomed, Seamus introducing himself and saying that he’d heard a lot about Charlie. James had said that too, Charlie mused, happy and melty. That meant - that meant Nick had spoken about him. Not in the way Ben ever did, either. Nick had spoken about him, maybe even in a positive way. Nick had spoken about his friend Charlie in a positive way to his friends.
They all took another shot and Charlie even joined in on the Badgers! cheer, wincing and laughing when Danny roared in approval and lifted Charlie up for a moment like Charlie weighed the same as a carrot. Amy pushed the group to the parlour and Charlie slipped into the kitchen for a quick moment, where Nick was arranging a charcuterie board. God, that was so cute. Nick was such a cute little host. Nick was such a cute man. Nick was cute. Charlie was tipsy. He blinked and smiled at Nick, trying to sharpen his brain.
Nick smiled back at Charlie, making his drunken and desiccated heart flutter. “You right? That lot not giving you too hard of a time?”
“I feel like you’re sometimes the one who gets a hard time,” Charlie said, grinning and thinking of all of the rinsing.
“You’ve clocked it in a day, Charlie,” Nick said with a grin. “Though I think sometimes Shea gets it even worse than I do; they love to give him shit even more than me.” He turned fully to face Charlie, leaning his hip against the counter. “So - what do you think?”
Charlie tilted his head. About me? About us? About being my boyfriend forever and kissing gently every morning and you touching my face with the tips of your fingers? Charlie blinked hard again and focused. “What…do you mean?”
“About them,” Nick said, nodding towards the parlour.
“Oh!” Nick was asking - again? Did it truly matter what Charlie thought? It felt wild to think that Nick was that invested in what Charlie thought, the sentiment almost making him feel disoriented. It was as if the most popular group in secondary school was begging him to sit at their lunch table. “They’re…fantastic, Nick.”
Nick smiled and Charlie could see him when he was eight or nine, beaming proudly. “Aren’t they? Do you actually like them?”
“I truly do,” said Charlie, meaning it and needing Nick to know how wonderful they were. How wonderful Nick was. “Everyone is just so…I don’t know, they seem to want to make everyone feel included, you know?” They make me feel included.
“Exactly,” Nick replied, looking happy. “That’s why it was such a great time. It was just…I felt like truly a part of it all, you know? Like I had…my people, I guess.” Charlie looked closely at Nick, momentarily off-kilter. He hadn’t really considered how it might feel for Nick, to have his former teammates there. Nick had been a part of them and the team just the year before, and now he was here at Lavender Fields, no longer with them every day. Charlie’s heart ached to think of how he hadn’t asked Nick how he was doing, but didn’t want to…he didn’t want to overstep. To pry. To annoy. To do all of the things he did with Ben. Before he could wrestle with his own brain, Nick spoke again, his energy changed. “But, yeah. “I’m so glad they’re here. And that you’re meeting them. Everyone thinks you’re amazing.”
Charlie’s fuzzy brain, which had just righted itself, flipped upside down again. I’m amazing? Everyone thinks I’m amazing? Do they have me confused with someone else? He could feel the heat in his neck. “That’s-”
There was a loud electric buzzing, skipping sound from the parlour, making Charlie and Nick exchange looks.
“What the fuck…”
“I have no idea…”
Charlie followed Nick through the door and into the parlour, the buzzing shifting into a thumping bass. Within a second, Charlie knew the song, Dancing on my Own. He watched with a bleary grin at Danny, Amy, Tex, and Regan dancing wildly, all of them bounding around happily and pulling Seamus and James into the mix as well. Charlie looked over and saw Nick laughing and smiling, the movement and dim light making Nick’s eyes sparkle. God, Charlie could look at that face literally all day. All night, too.
Danny broke him out of his fantasy, dancing in front of them. “Oi! Nelson! Springtime!” He mouthed the words to the slower part, dropping to his knees in beseeching invitation.
So far away
But still so near
The lights go on, the music dies
But you don’t see me standing here
I just came to say goodbye
I’m in the corner
Watching you kiss her, oh
As the bass came back in, Danny pounded his fist on the carpet in time with this music, leaping back up and dragging them to join everyone. Charlie felt his heart speed up, imagining how silly he might look dancing. He paused and then darted forward before he lost his nerve, joining in as the beat pounded, playing the drums in the air and making the group whoop and laugh. Amy pulled him over and Charlie lifted his arms in the air, dancing and feeling the music swirl around and through him. He was free, freer than he’d been in months. He was at Lavender Fields with new friends here and friends who loved him in London. He was dancing and free and on his own, choosing to be free. Charlie spun slowly and saw Nick join in, bouncing up and down and laughing as he did, their eyes briefly meeting.
That night, before he fell asleep, Charlie added a couple more bullets to the list, his mind picturing Nick as it had for the last several nights. Nick was clearly not a big dancer but had thrown himself in, spinning and trying to sing along despite clearly not knowing the words.
- Not afraid to be silly
- Willing to dance
Makes me feel like I do when I’m with Nick
Notes:
Chicken Shawarma
I took a cooking class one time and this was one of the recipes. It is a really easy mid-week recipe and I usually add in some vegetables (I did asparagus tonight) while the chicken bakes to make it a one-pan meal.
Ingredients
2 lb boneless skinless chicken thighs
High heat oil for searingMarinade:
¼ c olive oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice
6 cloves garlic, minced
1.5 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon paprika
¾ teaspoon cardamom
¾ teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
2 lbs boneless skinless chicken thighsIn a large bowl, combine all marinade ingredients and mix. Toss the chicken in the marinade and marinate for at least 5 hours (overnight is best).
When you are ready to cook, preheat the oven to 400 F. Heat a large cast iron on a burner set to medium-high heat. Add in about 1
tbsp of high heat oil. In batches, sear chicken until one side is heavily caramelized. Set the chicken aside until all pieces are browned. Put all chicken back in the cast iron, then top with any remaining marinade. Roast in the oven for 7-12 minutes (and add a vegetable if you want). Let the chicken rest for about 5 minutes before slicing.
Chapter 39: Charlie's POV: Embraced
Summary:
Charlie experiences what it’s like to have Nick’s arms around him, both on and off the rugby pitch. Spoiler: It’s really fucking amazing.
Notes:
Dear waveofyou and NellieSayzBork,
How are you? I am fine. How is the family? I am just writing to tell you that I love you very very much. Thank you for doing things with my words and making them better, as well as your phallic jokes. They warm my hearts and warm the LF boys' parts.
Regards,
Science S. Real
Hey also, remember how the incredible songbird3724 recorded sections of Lavender Fields? Well now they also PUT THEM INTO A PODFIC?! I hath melted. I am molten. Thank you, my wonderful friend 💜💜
Danny and James next week, then Lavender Fields returns the week after!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning was rough, and it took a while for Charlie to pry himself out of bed. Every time he tried to make a move, it felt like the covers wrapped tighter around him, the soft duvet pulling him back in. Charlie lay back and closed his eyes, imagining a full day of laying wrapped in comfort and warmth like this. Comfort and warmth. The words he thought of when he thought of Nick, who was quite literally the only person or thing that could have gotten him out of bed on this nauseating, hungover Saturday.
Comfort, warmth, and strong rugby arms. All three of those, if Charlie was honest.
It had been a late night for all of them, as Charlie had thought it might be. Seamus’s arrival sparked another round of drinks and shots, and everyone was amped up after the impromptu dance party. They’d played more songs and danced more, and Charlie had so much fun. The whole group was incredible, truly. No one was standoffish or acted too cool to hang out with Charlie, though they quite obviously were. Charlie wondered how he’d gotten so lucky - to have ended up at Lavender Fields in the first place, to have met Nick, and to have now met his genuinely lovely friends.
Of course they were lovely. They were Nick’s friends. And Nick was quite possibly the most incredible human that Charlie had met, ever. Though Charlie wouldn’t have been surprised if Nick wasn’t actually some advanced “perfect man” AI that was put there to test the wills of women and gay men the world over. Charlie sighed, a little smile on his face as he started to get up. Nick was definitely the only thing that could get him out of bed on this cold, damp morning. Though maybe he’d ask Nick to identify all of the motorcycles in a picture just to check. Charlie checked his phone, realising with annoyance that the battery was almost dead and remembering that he had left his charger in Nick’s truck. Charlie had a spare in his car that he could get, though the idea of going outside in the cold morning air seemed both offensive and homophobic.
Nick greeted Charlie warmly when he went downstairs, the coffee and tea already brewed and smelling delicious. Charlie smiled back at Nick before excusing himself to get the charger. He grabbed it and headed back inside, surprised by a cute little girl coming around the corner of the house. She was in a gigantic puffy purple coat that was too big for her, and Charlie smiled at the way her arms stuck out from the sides of her body. She spotted Charlie and made a beeline for him.
“Hi!”
Charlie smiled and waved. “Hi there!”
“I’m Jenny and I’m six,” six-year-old Jenny announced to Charlie.
Charlie crouched down. “I’m Charlie and I’m twenty nine.”
Jenny nodded somberly. “You’re old.”
Charlie laughed. “I am.”
“Are you staying at Mr. Nick’s farm?” Jenny asked, arm still sticking out from her sides, mittened hands flapping a little.
“I am,” Charlie responded, his heart melting at the name ‘Mr. Nick’. “Why do you get to come to Mr. Nick’s farm today?”
“My parents help Mr. Nick,” Jenny said. “I help too, but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I read instead. Mr. Nick has the lavender shed and it’s warm and I can read my book there when my parents do chores.”
Charlie smiled at Jenny. “Do you love to read? I love to read, too.”
Jenny looked amazed. “You do?!”
“I do,” Charlie assured her. “I actually work on books! What kind of books do you like?”
“I like adventure books,” Jenny told him, hands bouncing in excitement. She scowled. “But a lot of adventure books are about boys. I want adventure books about girls.”
“That’s a good idea,” Charlie said, taking out his phone and pretending like he was typing a note, keeping his face serious. “I am going to tell my boss that.” He didn’t need to take a note, though, Charlie was now 100% set on editing a children’s book about adventures for girls.
“Wow,” Jenny breathed, looking at Charlie as if he were a god. They both heard a mum calling her name, and Jenny turned her head. “I have to go. Thanks, Mr. Nick’s friend!”
Charlie grinned as she dashed off, hurrying along in her enormous coat. He stood, realising with a grimace just how muddy and disgusting the car park was. A heavy rain had fallen the night before and the field looked like a quagmire. Thank god, Charlie distantly thought. Maybe the rugby match of death wouldn't happen. He took off his trainers on the porch before going in, aware of the mud. Nick and Danny were chatting in the dining room, looking over and grinning at Charlie, who was beyond grateful to be inside and out of the cold. The cold that he hoped to god he wouldn’t have to be out in again - playing rugby.
“Are we seriously going to still play rugby with all the mud?” Charlie asked, trying to make it sound like of course no one would be that ridiculous.
Nick laughed, then hunched over, clutching Danny for support and screwing up his face. “Charlie, in my day, we had to play fixtures in the pouring rain,” he said through an aged, wheezy voice. “And the sun was in our eyes in both halves, even when we switched sides.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, deadening his voice. “I thought you said it was pouring rain.”
Danny nodded earnestly, placing a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “And we had to make our own rugby balls out of an old blown-up condom and chicken skin.”
Charlie laughed and shook his head. He should have known. He’d done some, er, research on Google Images looking at pictures of Nick playing in matches and had seen several pictures of Nick in the rain, his rugby kit clinging to his torso. Charlie might have saved one or two or nine of those. “Fine. I get it. We’re playing.”
“Fuck yes we are,” said Amy, appearing out of nowhere and giving Charlie a grin and a nudge. “And come on, what else is there to do around here?”
Charlie raised his chin. He loved that he could joke around with this group just like Elle and Tao, and was still a little in awe about it. “I’ll have you know I was having a lovely conversation with that little girl, the daughter of the cleaners,” he said, sniffing as though he was more important than them. “She agrees that there are not enough children’s books about little girls who go on adventures, which I plan to rectify at the publishing house as soon as possible.”
“Charlie…” Danny looked at Charlie, his eyes reflecting deep worry. “There was a little girl who used to live here.”
Charlie felt his stomach drop and turned to look at Amy, who looked equally concerned. She took her hand in his and pulled it gently to her chest. “But Charlie…she died twenty years ago,” she continued gravely.
Charlie felt all of the blood exit his body, never to return. Oh god, it was a portrait person fucking origin story. “What?”
Nick huffed at Danny and Amy. “You two are terrible.”
Amy and Danny both cracked up and Charlie felt himself nearly sway with relief. “Holy fuck! Oh my god, Danny and Amy, little girl ghosts are nothing to joke about, especially in this haunted-ass house.”
Nick tried to stifle a giggle, clapping a hand over his mouth and squeaking. That finally cracked Charlie and he started laughing too, the warmth creeping back into his body.
“Oh fuck,” laughed Danny. “Your face, Springtime, it’s amazing!”
Charlie shook his head, but couldn’t take the smile off his face. Ben’s friends had never had a nickname for him and Danny had come up with one within a day. Ben’s friends had never really even used his name, never acting like Charlie was important enough to waste words on. Now here were Nick’s friends, laughing and happy and making Charlie feel like he was part of the group.
Amy raised a finger at Danny. “Easy talking about faces. Your face is like someone shaved a dog’s butt and made it walk backwards.”
“Ooh, the rinsing begins!” Danny beamed and looked at Charlie, nodding enthusiastically and pointing at Amy. “Get ready. Amy is amazingly awful at trash talk; she goes way too intense and personal. It’s a delight.”
Charlie looked at Amy, who shrugged happily. “It’s true. It’s one of my toxic traits.”
Charlie laughed once more, then screwed up his face in resignation. “Well, I’ll go get ready for this fresh hell. I really am going to die.”
“Of fun!” Nick chirped, making Charlie turn and grin at him before heading upstairs. Back in his room, he stood in front of the dresser looking into the mirror. Charlie looked at his clean face, his pleasingly-unbroken nose, and his intact bones. How many of those would he still see after the match? In reality, Charlie knew (because Nick had assured him) that it was non-contact and that no one was doing any tackling. Though of course, Charlie had played several scenarios in his mind of Nick Nelson gently tackling him, like he had the first time they had practised rugby together. In the daydream, though, the two of them rolled around laughing with their faces close. Then Dream Nick Nelson would stop laughing, looking at Charlie’s lower lip intently. Dream Nick would lean in and softly, softly…
Non-contact. It was non-contact. Devastatingly.
Charlie looked at his phone, his group chat with Elle and Tao pinging. He had told both of them about the rugby match, both of them reacting predictably: Elle was amazed and cautiously impressed, and Tao rolled his eyes so hard that it might have registered on the Richter scale. They both asked if the match was still happening and Charlie sent back a short confirmatory text, laughing when he got their replies.
Elle 🩷: 🤯😲🫂
Tao 😒: 🏉🚑🏥🙏🪦💐👼but actually not 👼for you more like ⬇️🔥👿
Charlie sent back several crying with laughter emojis and a gif of Jim Halpert from The Office saying, “Lord, beer me strength” before closing his phone. He got ready, pulling on several layers before heading down. Charlie joined the others in the dining room, shaking his head melodramatically and standing next to Regan.
“You look like a man condemned,” she said, laughing and squeezing his arm.
“This is going to suck,” Charlie said morosely.
“Nah, mate,” Danny said, overhearing. “That’s not till later, and James and I promised to not do that in the parlour any more. Nick gets mad when we do.”
There was a beat and Charlie let out a loud burst of laughter, Danny looking pleased with himself and James closing his eyes, already looking mortified.
Nick rolled his eyes and laughed and the group headed outside, gathering in the weak sunlight. He and Seamus stood next to one another, both of them grinning. Nick started to lay out the rules, which was kind as it was really just for Charlie though Nick addressed the whole group. It would be three on three, and the two teams had to match the number of professional athletes on the field at the same time.
“Non-professional players chosen first,” Nick continued, and Charlie felt a little wash of soothing relief. That was a really thoughtful rule to not make any of the ‘normies’ feel uncomfortable. How perfectly Nick Nelson. “Total non-contact, no tackling. Everyone hear that?”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, grinning and thinking back to the rugby match where Nick had lightly tackled him to keep him from scoring. “Did you hear that, Nicholas?” It was a little cheeky, but Charlie felt emboldened by how great the group was and how much Nick had truly made him feel part of everything.
Nick gave him a falsely innocent look. “What?” he said, tilting his head and pursing his lips. Charlie laughed, heart fluttering, and then Nick gave a little start, going back to the group. “Right, no tackling. Remember, if you get hurt Amy will kill you.”
Amy pointed all around her at the lads. “And it will be painful.”
Seamus nodded. “Since Nick is hosting, he gets to pick first.”
Charlie felt a little twinge in his chest, immediately harkening back to the days of secondary school and the torture of phys ed. But of course - of course - Nick made him feel at home.
“Perfect,” said Nick, grinning at Charlie in a way that made the back of his knees melt. “Charlie, come join the side of good.” Charlie blushed at the cheers and whistles as he walked over, willing his legs to re-solidify.
“Fuck, I knew he was fast,” muttered Danny. “I should have focused on scouting last night, but I was distracted by the dance party. Damn you, Robyn, and your infectious beats!”
The rest of the group was chosen quickly, all of them laughing when Tex pretended to be gutted to be chosen last. The match kicked off and it was…fun? Charlie knew he was tremendously unskilled, but he also knew he was fast. Most plays - phases, maybe? - Nick or James or Regan would gently pitch the ball to Charlie and Charlie would take off, avoiding passing whenever possible.
“Springtime has wings!” Danny crowed on Charlie’s first run. “Wingtime!”
Despite his speed, the others were literally professional athletes and Charlie often got tagged, though he was having more fun than he could ever have imagined. It felt good to be running around, and Charlie warmed up surprisingly quickly. Everyone was in good spirits despite some brazen cheating, including Danny tugging down James’s rugby shorts and making him stagger to the end in just his boxers. Amy also literally clung onto one of Nick’s legs like a child, laughing and trying to dig her heels into the ground to stop his progress. Charlie loved watching all of them, but he loved watching Nick more than anything.
Nick was massive but moved with incredible grace. His gorgeous face was alight and always attentive, bright brown eyes scanning the field and celebrating his teammates. Charlie knew that Nick was going to be an incredible coach for the Badgers, truly. Anyone would be lucky to get to be seen under those eyes.
Charlie knew that time was running down. He was on the field with Nick and Regan, hanging out by the far edge of the field. Nick pitched the ball to Regan, who passed it to him and then back again before popping it into Charlie’s arms. Charlie's eyes widened momentarily and then he took off, Nick running next to him and cheering him on.
“Go, Charlie!” yelled Nick as they ran, Charlie’s heart feeling as light as his feet.
Charlie laughed wildly and kept running, even as Amy dashed towards him at an angle. “Prepare to die, Spring!” she bellowed, making Charlie speed up in a tiny bit of actual fear.
Nick swerved away and hoisted her up and over his shoulder. “Run, Charlie, run!” Nick called in a Forrest Gump-esque approximation, Amy laughing and yelling about cheating and deception.
“Fuck yeah, Charlie!” James was laughing and whooping on his other side, just off the field. “Touch the ball down, Charlie, touch it right over the line!”
Charlie did and James cheered, raising his arms in celebration. Charlie turned and went to look for Nick, only to have Nick crash into him and lift him up, Charlie’s toes skimming the ground.
“We won, Charlie!” Nick set him down and Charlie blushed, wanting more than anything to be pressed against Nick’s broad chest again. Then Regan slammed into him and knocked him back against Nick, like Charlie had manifested his dreams. Okay, now I want more than anything to be kissing Nick Nelson, Charlie thought desperately, though this time it sadly did not work. James joined them too, the four of them jumping and celebrating even as Amy and Danny howled about cheating and backstabbing.
“You want to talk cheating?” asked James, wagging a playful finger at Danny. “This just makes up for the rugby shorts move.” Danny laughed and pulled James in by the finger for a kiss, making Charlie shift his eyes around quickly to see how Nick and Seamus and Tex reacted. All they did was grin and continue to laugh with the others, seemingly unaffected by two men kissing. That was… Well. That was the Badgers, Charlie supposed?
Nick bumped Charlie with his shoulder. “Did you have fun?”
Charlie smiled at Nick, amazed that he truly had. “I really did,” Charlie replied. “I can’t believe I scored a…point?”
“Five, actually,” said Nick with a laugh.
Charlie grinned, knowing that Nick had tried to teach him that fact several times over several rugby trivia sessions. “Even better.” He looked down at his clothes, now splattered with mud. “I’m a mess, though.”
“You are,” Nick smiled, but it didn’t seem like he was making fun of Charlie. It sounded…fond. Nick lifted a hand toward Charlie’s cheek. “You’ve got some…” Nick brushed at a spot of mud, tips of his fingers grazing over Charlie’s skin as he froze, hardly daring to breathe. “There you go.”
“Oh, um…thanks,” Charlie managed to get out, trying furiously to control his blush. Nick Nelson had touched his cheek. This was not a drill. Nick Nelson touched Charlie’s face and Charlie’s crush was entering Threat Level Midnight territory.
Charlie jumped when Seamus set a hand on his and Nicks’ shoulders. “Cooldown drinks in the barn?”
“Yeah, definitely,” said Nick, moving away from Charlie, who stood in the grass, still paralyzed. He wouldn’t be surprised to look down and see scorch marks by his feet, he was so on fire. Nick Nelson touched his face…Charlie touched his cheek softly before following the others to the barn, trying to recreate the feeling just one more time.
-
The group laughed and talked for a while, most of the others having beers. Charlie refused the offer, worried that his organs would start crystallising into ice if he drank something cold once the adrenaline of the match and Nick’s touch wore off. He was shifting around and shivering, hoping someone else would recognise how bloody cold it was first. Thankfully Regan spoke up, saying she was cold and was heading back in. Amy and Charlie quickly agreed to join them, waving to the lads and leaving them behind.
“Oh thank fuck,” Charlie murmured as they walked back up. “I was fucking freezing.”
“Me too,” said Amy, glueing herself to Charlie’s arm for warmth. “You’re a genius, Rae.”
“I have to have a shower,” Regan said through chattering teeth. “See you two in a bit!”
She left to go to her room and Charlie and Amy went into the kitchen, Charlie fixing them each a tea. “I might have a shower, too,” Charlie said, once they had warmed up sufficiently for his muscles to work again.
“Yeah, I think-”
Whatever else Amy was going to say was lost on Charlie as his phone started to buzz. He glanced at it to see a name that hadn’t been on his screen for over two weeks now.
Ben ♥️
“Fuck,” Charlie breathed, the cold immediately flooding back into his body like he was dropped in an icy pool.
“What is it, babe?” Amy asked.
Charlie showed her the phone, his hand trembling a little. “It’s Ben.”
Amy looked at him, her green eyes full of concern. “You can ignore it,” she said definitively, nodding like she wanted Charlie to agree.
Charlie felt a twinge, something old and familiar and ugly. “I shouldn’t”, he mumbled, looking at the screen. The voice spoke, the urgent one that had whispered to him for years. He’ll get angry if you don’t answer. Don’t make him angry, Charlie. It’s easier to just keep him happy.
Charlie looked for one more beat and then picked up the phone, heart hammering and regret and shame immediately rising like sickening bile in his throat.
“Hey,” said Charlie quietly, making his way out the back door off the kitchen, back into the cold air.
“Hey,” replied Ben.
There was soft breathing and Charlie knew that Ben was waiting for him to say something. He clenched his teeth together so hard his jaw ached, refusing to speak before Ben. Not this time. Charlie could feel the inside of his stomach, crawling with nerves. The silence stretched on until Ben finally broke it.
“Where are you?”
Charlie paused. He hadn’t been expecting that question. “I’m…I’m away for a bit.”
“When are you back?” Ben’s tone was the Ben of a few years ago, the one who finally agreed that he and Charlie were dating. The one who suggested they move in together. The one who had seemed to like Charlie, at least at times.
Charlie blinked. “Back? In…in London?”
“No, when are you back home?” Ben asked, his voice gentle now. Enticing. Soft.
Home. They didn’t have a home, not together. Charlie felt dizzied, confused. Did Ben…what the fuck? Did he not remember literally everything that had happened? “I’m…we’re…”
“Don’t pretend, Charlie.” Ben’s voice was gentle and honeyed, conciliatory. “Don’t pretend you don’t still love me. You know we love each other,” Ben continued. He paused. “You know I love you,” Ben said, the rare words washing over Charlie and leaving him frozen and still, phone clutched against his ear. Ben sighed. “I know I’m not perfect, Charlie. I shouldn’t have shouted. But I do love you. And I’m sorry.”
There it was. There they were. The words Charlie had heard so rarely, both sets of them. Ben loved Charlie. Ben was sorry. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time Ben was sorry, that he’d left those words bare and without condition. I’m sorry I blew up on you, but you shouldn’t have… They were the words that made Charlie feel soft and tender, the words that let him see the Ben Charlie had always wanted. Charlie opened his mouth to speak a few times, unable to get out any words. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do with the swelling in his chest right now, the rush of sympathy and regret and worry that Charlie had made too big of a deal of things?
“I’ve been lonely since you left. I want you to come back,” Ben said softly. “Come home, Charlie.”
Charlie swallowed, the word sitting heavy in his chest. Home. What was home? Where was home? Charlie thought back to their home, the one filled with silences. The home where Charlie had been cautious, never wanting to make Ben upset. Was that the home he wanted? “I’m…” Charlie swallowed and licked his lips. “I have a new place.”
“What, a new flat?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, voice rough. He cleared his throat.
“Are you there now?”
“It’s not…” Charlie was struck by a sudden need to explain it all to Ben, though he didn’t know why. “I…I found a place but it’s not ready so I’m staying with a friend.”
“Elle and Tao?” Ben’s voice was sharper now.
“No, another friend; their place is too small,” Charlie said, heart rate picking up.
“Who, then?” Ben asked.
Charlie paused. He didn’t want to tell Ben about Nick. Nick was for him. Nick wasn’t for Ben. Ben didn’t deserve to know about someone like Nick.
Deserve …
Charlie closed his eyes, trying to bring himself back. He was reeling, he knew, knocked off balance by Ben and his phone call, by Ben’s startling softness and his apology. Charlie had chosen to leave, though, hadn’t he? Why? The answer felt fuzzy and unclear now, weeks away. Had Charlie made too big of a deal of something else, yet again? He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to centre himself. Charlie breathed into his belly and felt it then, felt the sharp metallic cut of steel from the last night, the one where he’d left. Charlie remembered what Ben said. His apology had laid a soft blanket over the words, but they were still there underneath, sharp and shining.
So pathetic…
You’re not worth the trouble…
Charlie took another breath, gathering his resolve. “A friend,” Charlie said firmly, though he couldn’t keep the quaver out of his tone.
“Seriously, Charlie?” The softness was gone. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“I need to go, Ben.” I want to go.
“No you don’t.” Ben was exasperated now. “Don’t be difficult, Charlie.”
Charlie felt small, cowed, like a shrinking tiny animal. “I’m not being difficult.”
“You are,” Ben said, words ripping through the phone. “Like always.” There was silence for a moment. Then Ben’s tone dropped. “You’re going to come back, you know. Once you realise that your friend or whatever gets sick of you. Like everyone does.”
Charlie felt his heart seize, throat choking with regret and fear and anger and sadness. “I…”
“Whatever, Charlie.” Ben hung up and Charlie stared at his phone, feeling sick and stupid.
Why had he even picked up? Why had he backed down? Why had he softened to Ben’s apology, even though he knew what Ben was? And what…what if Nick did get sick of him? Charlie knew this weekend was different, a party of sorts with Nick’s friends there. It wasn’t real life. What was going to happen when they left? What was going to happen when it was just them? Charlie’s neediness would wear on Nick like it did with Ben.
Charlie stood there for a moment, feeling colder than he had a few moments ago. Distantly, he realised he was shivering.
Charlie turned to go back inside the house, his heart jumping out of his chest when he caught Nick’s eye through the glass panels on the door. Fuck. Charlie knew he looked utterly miserable and knew he had been caught. Charlie slipped inside, unable to meet Nick’s gaze. Here was Charlie, ruining everything. Again. Here was Charlie, pulling all of the focus onto himself during Nick’s weekend with his friends. Here was Charlie, who was going to make Nick sick of him, just like Ben said.
“Charlie are you…” Nick’s voice sounded concerned, worried. Worry he shouldn't have to feel when he was trying to have fun with his mates. “Do you…do you want to talk?”
“I…” Charlie forced himself to look briefly at Nick, then looked away, guilt and embarrassment clogging his throat. He didn’t want to force this on Nick. “I don’t…I don’t think I do, not just right now.”
“Okay,” said Nick but he sounded unsure. There was a moment of silence where Charlie tried to think of how he could escape to his room without making Nick think he needed to worry when he felt himself pulled into arms. Arms, strong and soft. Nick’s arms around him, holding Charlie. Charlie tensed, ready to accept the undeserved kindness and let go, but Nick didn’t release him. He just held Charlie, pulling him close. Charlie closed his eyes and slowly raised his arms to wrap around Nick, tentative and slow.
“It’s all right,” whispered Nick, and it was over for Charlie. He gasped as a wave of emotion surged up his throat and tears flooded his eyes. He hadn’t been held like this…Charlie couldn’t think of the last time he had been held like this. Nick was holding Charlie like there was no rush to let him go, like Nick was doing this because he cared and not because he felt obligated. It was one of the deepest comforts Charlie had ever felt, and he hadn’t known how much he had truly needed this after the call from Ben. Charlie fought the tears for a moment, not waiting to take advantage of Nick’s patience, but they won. He cried into Nick’s jumper, fingers pressing against the soft ridges of the fabric. “It’s all right,” Nick said a few more times, arms never leaving Charlie’s body.
Charlie felt the worst of it pass, the flood of wordless, overwhelming emotions slowly starting to drain away. Now the thoughts were back - the thoughts of how good this felt but also of what Nick must think of him. How pathetic and needy he must think Charlie was. Charlie took a shuddery breath and stepped back, using his sleeves to brush away a few last tears. “I’m so-” Charlie started, looking down.
“Charlie, I will give you a thousand tolls if you apologise right now.”
Charlie sniffed out a little laugh of surprise, still looking down. Nick was trying to make it lighter and Charlie appreciated it. He should do the same. “A thousand rugby matches? You wouldn’t.”
Nick’s voice sounded like it had a gentle smile in it. “I’m a man of my word. You’ll be so deep in rucks and scrums and phases you won’t even know what to do.”
Charlie mopped at his eyes once more, a weak laugh bubbling through the last of the tears. “I don’t even know what most of those are still.” He chanced a look up at Nick, who was looking at him with a look of…not pity. Concern.
“Are you…”
“I’m fine,” said Charlie, taking a deep breath and willing himself to be. “Just like… embarrassed.” Charlie heard the start of Nick’s immediate protest and shook his head, holding up his hands. “I know - I know. I know what you’re going to say. But, like - I’ve been having the best weekend, Nick. The best week.” It really had been. Being back with Nick, and being with his friends…it had been more wonderful than Charlie had expected. “And your friends have been so great and welcoming and fun, and now here I am, whinging and fucking crying in your kitchen like a…”
“Like someone who’s gone through something hard?” asked Nick, and Charlie looked up, startled. “Like someone who’s had to figure out a ton of shit in just a few weeks? Like someone who is being so, so strong right now?” Charlie looked at Nick, truly and finally looked at him now, and Nick gave a soft smile. “You heard me. You’re…” Nick looked away, and then back at him. “You’re incredible, Charlie. You’ve gone through all this shit and still - what? Still worked your job, figured out how to do remote, found a flat, stood up for yourself, came here, met new people, charmed their socks off.” Charlie was feeling even more unmoored than when Ben called, but in an entirely different way now. He searched Nick’s face, the same open and honest face that Charlie had seen the first night at Lavender Fields. “You’re…astonishing, Charlie. I hope you can see that.”
Charlie opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I’m…” He truly didn’t know what to say. It was like the embrace - something that Charlie hadn’t known he needed until he got it. The embrace and the words were both like salves, soothing something hot and cracked inside Charlie. Nick thought Charlie was…strong? Astonishing? That he might not be pathetic? Nick thought that Charlie was… Charlie didn’t have the words to tell Nick how much all of this meant to him. He tried, failed, and then looked at Nick, trying to pour the depth of his appreciation into the expression. “Just…thank you.”
“You should be a defender next time we play rugby,” said Nick with the same small grin. “You’re amazing at deflection.” Charlie laughed softly and Nick did too. “You’re probably freezing still, aren’t you?”
Charlie was, though he realised that his shivering had stopped. “Yes, I definitely need a shower. I have to warm up a little.”
“Go do that,” said Nick, looking at Charlie like what Charlie did actually mattered to him. “Come down whenever you want, later - if you want. I know everyone would love to hang out with you tonight. If you feel up for it, that is.”
Charlie looked at Nick perhaps a beat too long, marvelling at him. Charlie had been thinking that his list of hopes for his next partner was too long, too ridiculous, too aspirational. Yet here they all were in Nick. It was both hopeful to realise that a person like Nick did exist while a little heartbreaking at the same time - knowing Nick was straight and would never see Charlie like that. Of course, even if Nick wasn’t straight Charlie wouldn’t have stood a chance. “Thanks, Nick,” he said, trying at a smile. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Charlie gave a small wave to Nick as he headed upstairs, stripping off his muddy clothes. He made the shower water as hot as he could stand it, his skin reddening under the flow. Charlie dried and dressed (appreciating the electric towel warming racks at Lavender Fields more than he ever had before) and then flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. In the shower he’d tried to keep the water hot enough to crowd out his thoughts, and now they came tumbling back in, words chasing themselves around his brain.
Nick was so kind. So thoughtful. He was patient. He’d seemed to actually care about what was happening with Charlie and had taken the time to talk with him and make sure that Charlie was okay.
But maybe Ben is right, the voice in his head breathed, digging a nail at a spot in the middle of his brain. You’re always being dramatic. You literally interrupted one of the most fun days everyone was having with your breakdown. All because you chose to answer the phone, and then you chose to make it worse. It hadn’t been the first time Charlie had cried in front of Nick, too. It had been a while since he had, and Charlie wondered if Nick had a head-shaking “here we go again” moment, seeing Charlie break down once more. But still…
Nick hadn’t seemed annoyed or like he was mentally adding up the time it was taking out of his day to comfort Charlie. Nick hadn’t made it a quick hug and then pulled away, satisfied he’d ticked the box of making his friend feel better. Nick had just held him. Nick had truly held him. It was like what Charlie imagined a hug from a soft, loving mother would be like, one that could last for minutes without expectation. He supposed he had gotten those from his mum as a child, but couldn’t recall the last one. Charlie actually couldn’t remember if he had ever been held like that. It was so…it had been exactly what Charlie needed.
Now that Charlie was over the worst of it, he thought back to the hug. In the moment, he’d been so overwhelmed by the call from Ben that Charlie hadn’t been able to process that this was Nick hugging him, Nick with his massive arms around Charlie. Charlie sighed and rolled over, embracing the firmest pillow he could find. He wrapped his arms around it and closed his eyes, trying to return to what it had felt like when Nick held him and he held Nick back. Charlie used one of his hands, imagining it was Nick’s, brushing away the curls from his forehead. It’s all right, Charlie whispered quietly, mimicking what Nick had said and imagining that Nick was laying here with him, smoothing his hair away from his eyes. It’s all right.
Before Charlie lay down for a nap, he took out his journal and added a few more bullets.
- Asks me what’s wrong without sounding annoyed
- Holds me as long as I need when something’s happened
Makes me feel as safe as I did when Nick held me
-
Charlie woke up later than he meant to, jerking awake with a start. How long had he been out? Charlie glanced at his phone, seeing it was almost supper time. It might be dinner time, actually, based on where it sounded like voices were concentrated. Charlie opened his door to try to see if anyone else was still upstairs, immediately spotting the pile of fresh towels placed by the threshold. Nick must have put them there, Charlie thought. He looked at the towels, the stack of fluffy white by the door, imagining Nick’s hands placing them down. If Charlie let himself, he could imagine Nick placing those towels down, knocking. He could imagine himself telling Nick to come in, Nick placing them on the edge of the bed. Then Charlie could imagine those hands reaching up, reaching out to hold Charlie again. But this time, there’d be something else in the embrace, something with hunger.
A burst of laughter from downstairs jolted Charlie from his daydream and he blinked, taking the towels and putting them on the edge of the bed himself. These daydreams were doing nothing to help Charlie’s ridiculous crush on Nick, and he needed to get himself together. Charlie checked how he looked in the mirror and headed down to dinner, his heart going faster than it had this morning.
Charlie was feeling absurdly shy despite having spent the better part of the weekend with everyone already. Had Nick told anyone about what happened earlier? Charlie could imagine going downstairs and being met with pity, sad quiet smiles for poor Charlie who was ruining everyone’s fun. His heart hammered as he made his way to the dining room, taking a deep breath before going in.
It was nothing like that at all, though. A literal yell of delight went up when Charlie walked in, various calls of, “Springtime!”, “There he is!”, and “Oi, oi!” echoing down the table. Charlie blushed and sat next to Amy, who hugged his arm and gave him a warm look. No one brought up Ben, no one brought up Charlie crying, and it hadn’t seemed like anyone else had noticed a thing. Nick was himself, too, Charlie feeling bright every time their eyes met.
After dinner Danny and Amy pushed everyone into the parlour for drinking and games. Danny disappeared for a moment and then returned wearing the sparkliest pair of boots Charlie had ever seen. They were ankle-high and glittering silver with a small heel and pointed toe and Charlie had never been more jealous of a pair of shoes in his entire life. They played games, both ones Charlie had and had not heard of, including one called Telestrations. Charlie was next to Nick and always received the drawings that Nick made and that Charlie had to guess. For all of the incredible things he was, Nick Nelson was absolute shit and drawing and the two of them collapsed into laughter multiple times during the game. Nick would hand him a drawing, giggling and already apologising and Charlie would look at it, turning to Nick in perplexed wonder. They both laughed until they had tears in their eyes, Charlie’s stomach hurting.
Charlie was feeling lighter than he could have imagined, especially after the call with Ben. He’d had what he’d mentally dubbed “Ben hangovers” in the past, where an incident with Ben would leave him shaken and unhappy for hours or even days at a time. Not today, though. It was like the heavy pall that Ben could cast was lifted, chased away by Nick Nelson’s perfect arms. Kindness, rather, Charlie supposed. Oh well. It could be both. Kindness and arms.
After games in the parlour, they’d all ended up in Nick’s living room, the TV on in the background and music playing. People were drinking and dancing and talking and it was both rowdy and relaxed at the same time. It was just like the rugby match earlier; no one was taking themselves too seriously and everyone was involved. Charlie had conversations with every person there, and every person was one that he could imagine being friends with. There was constantly a drink in his hand, always refreshed by Amy or Danny or James or Nick - all of them, really.
Late in the evening (or maybe it was early in the morning), Charlie looked around, both bleary and happy. There seemed to be monster truck videos playing in the background on the TV? Charlie had no idea. He was sitting next to Nick, which Charlie did have an idea about. It had been luck that he and Nick were sitting together while they played games, and Charlie liked it. They had their own little private moments and jokes during the game, and once the seat next to Nick had been empty, Charlie had dropped into it, as casual as you like. Charlie just liked being around Nick.
The two of them were talking and laughing with each other and the rest of the group, their attention called in different directions by everyone. Charlie caught little snippets of conversation: Danny claiming that mint gum was “too spicy”, Regan laughing about Tex’s brother in a recent drag show, calling Tex and himself “John Wayne and John Gay-ne”. There was some sort of pun that Charlie heard too, some joke about Seamus and Amy banging: “Seam on Amy”? Charlie glanced over at Nick when he heard that one, but Nick seemed happily oblivious, responding to the remark in a totally different way than Charlie had taken it.
“Shame on all of us, really,” Nick said, smiling fuzzily at Charlie. “Sorry you had to hang out with a bunch of degenerates like us this weekend.”
Charlie grinned back at him. “It was such a chore. Honestly, you saved me from another weekend at Tao’s Film School of Existential Ennui, which…thank god.”
Nick laughed and the sound of it filled up Charlie’s chest like it always did. “You’ll have to invite him and Elle up again one of these weekends.” He pointed at Charlie, pretending to be serious. “As long as we pretend the wifi is down so we can’t watch anything besides the VHS tapes that my mum still owns.”
Charlie needed to see what VHS tapes Nick’s mother had, especially if they were ones baby Nick had picked out, that thought crowding out the amazement that Nick would welcome his friends back to Lavender Fields. “I’m going to have to see that collection.”
Nick nodded knowingly. “It’s…fantastic. How do you think he’ll enjoy The Mighty Ducks …Two?”
Charlie laughed. “Oh my god, he will die. Maybe literally.” His brain was spinning in lazy drunken circles. Nick had said - could he really bring Elle and Tao here, too? “But really? Like - it would be okay to invite them up?”
Nick looked at him with a fond shake of his head that made Charlie feel like he was glowing. “Of course! Let’s look at the calendar tomorrow and see which weekend is light. But I’d love to see them again. I really liked them - your friends are great.”
Charlie looked at Nick for another happy disbelieving moment before casting around at the group. “Your friends are great, too.”
“They are,” Nick agreed.
“It’s bedtime, bitches!” Amy announced, words a little slurry. “Everyone say goodnight before mother Nick scolds us.”
Charlie and Nick both laughed and got up, everyone realising just how late it was. They really were a hugging group, Nick hugging each of them goodnight and then each of them saying goodnight to Charlie, too. He found himself next to Nick as the others drifted out, wondering (and hoping) that he might get to experience what it was like to hug Nick minus floods of tears.
Nick stood there a little awkwardly, probably a result of the booze and Charlie’s breakdown earlier. “Well…goodnight, Charlie.”
No hug, then, Charlie thought glumly, but put on a smile. “Goodnight, Nick.” Then Nick took a hesitating half step and opened his arms. Charlie felt his heart and eyebrows jump at the same time and slid into Nick’s arms, revelling in the warmth of them. It was short - far shorter than before, too short - but Charlie tried to drink it in.
Nick pulled away and stepped back, smiling. “See you in the morning?”
“In the morning,” Charlie agreed, knowing that he was blushing. He also knew that he’d be pulling the firm pillow close again, trying to make it feel as though he was snuggled up with Nick as sleep overcame him.
-
Oh god, this morning was worse. How was this morning worse? Everything was awful.
Charlie audibly groaned as he opened his eyes, his throat dry and mouth cottony. He smacked his lips and tried for a sip of water, then regretted it as it hit his stomach. Charlie was remarkably hungover, far more so than he had been the night before. He wasn’t used to heavy drinking two nights in a row, and Charlie wished that there had been a giant human-sized spatula that could have prised him out of bed.
It took time, cursing, and the promise of Nick Nelson’s coffee for Charlie to finally convince himself to get up. Every stair he descended on the way to the dining room jolted his organs. If the lure of coffee and Nick hadn’t been so appealing, Charlie never would have made it. He felt like a man dying of thirst and crawling to an oasis. He smiled wryly to himself despite his misery, gripping the handrail of the stairs and fearing how weak his legs felt. Well, thirst was right. Oh god. Oh god, was that a pun? Charlie was weak with the hangover; the pun pandemic was getting past his immunity defences.
The only bright things in the world were in the kitchen: Nick and caffeine. “Hi,” said one of them.
“Hi,” said Charlie, the smile creeping on his face as he accepted the cup of coffee from Nick, along with the oat milk. He’d picked oat milk the first day at Lavender Fields and Nick had never failed to have it on hand. “Did you sleep okay?”
“No,” admitted Nick. “I sleep like shit after drinking. You?”
“I got a solid 80 minutes,” said Charlie through a yawn, and Nick laughed, then looked a little unwell at the movement. Charlie stared at his coffee. “Ugh. I want this coffee so badly and I also do not want this coffee so badly. You’d think alcohol was, like, bad for you or something based on the way it makes you feel the next morning.”
“I know,” said Nick, chuckling and slightly green. “But, I do have a foolproof method to feeling better.”
“Curling up in a ball and dying slowly?” Charlie said this with his head buried in his arms, hiding from the horrifying sunlight streaming in.
“Carbs and cheese.”
Charlie nodded, his head against the kitchen counter. He took a tentative sip of coffee and sighed, knowing he couldn’t leave Nick to prepare everything alone, even though every cell was yelling at him to get a blanket, a sofa, and eighteen episodes of Escape to the Country. “Okay. What can I help with?”
“Nothing,” said Nick, waving this away.
Charlie made his voice stern. “Nick.”
“Did you just try to teacher voice me, Charles Spring?”
Charlie raised his chin. He’d had to parent Olly some on the weekends when his mum and dad were away and even Tori said that his “authority” voice was commanding. “Nicholas Nelson. I am going to help. So give me. A goddamn. Job.”
“Geez, bossy,” muttered Nick with a grin. Charlie kept his gaze until Nick rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Fine. You can make the cheese sauce. Pull down that blue binder; my mum has stuff indexed in there; look in the back page to find which page it’s on.”
Charlie took down the huge three-ring binder, filled with paper in plastic sheets. “God, this thing is massive. How many binders of recipes like this does she have?”
Nick paused, thinking. “Like, three or four? It’s a combination of recipes she’s made up or I have or ones we’ve cut out of like newspapers and magazines and stuff.”
That seemed manageable, Charlie thought. That would leave a lot of editorial space to collect the best dishes from each category and put together a really good product. “The world needs this cookbook,” Charlie announced. “Can I take one of these with me when I leave today, to help me do a little background work for the book?” Leaving today. Charlie had almost forgotten it was Sunday and he needed to go back to London for the two days.
“Yeah, of course,” said Nick. “Actually, take that one; I won’t need that one for a few days.”
The two of them worked in the kitchen, warm and happy, and after a bit Charlie started to feel marginally better. The coffee and paracetamol helped, but Nick helped the most. Charlie remembered the hungover mornings with Ben, where Ben would be grouchy and snappish. Those were always quiet mornings. Nick was different, of course. He’d make a bit of a joke about it, leaning against the counter and groaning but laughing at himself and how miserable he was. It was just the two of them for a bit and it felt familiar and comfortable already. Charlie loved Nick’s friends being there, but a selfish part of himself was happy that it would be just them (plus some guests) when he returned on Tuesday evening.
The breakfast pizzas were amazing, as everyone agreed. They all lingered at the table, the group in various states of liveliness. Charlie felt heavy after the pizzas and was gratified when Regan suggested a walk. Most of the group decided to go, too, though James declined, as did Amy and Seamus. Amy and Seamus both declining…huh. That was interesting.
They walked the same way that Nick and Charlie had gone the first week that Charlie had been there, up towards the cleaners’ house and past the field of horses. Adorably, Nick had encouraged them all to bring carrots from a basket he and his mum kept on the porch, and they leaned up against the fence to offer them to the horses.
Charlie stook next to Danny, who was feeding a massive black one. “Here you go, Horson Welles,” he cooed, and Charlie laughed.
“Where do you come up with these?” asked Charlie, shaking his head in wonder.
“They just come to me, Charlie, my mate,” said Danny. He pointed toward the three horses standing near them. “Maple Stirrup,” he said, pointing at a caramel-coloured one nearby. “Al Capony. Usain Colt.”
Charlie had to laugh again, as did Nick, Tex, and Regan. Charlie shook his head and then looked at the three men. “No wonder you three get on so well. Whose brain infected whose when it came to terrible dad jokes?”
Tex grinned. “We were all independently wealthy with pun-based humour. Then we came together and combined our assets like a hedge fund of quippery.”
Charlie sighed morosely. “Yet another strike against capitalism.” Nick laughed loudly and Charlie looked over at him and grinned, their eyes meeting.
“Just cheeky luck that we all found each other,” said Danny, winking. He wasn’t exactly Charlie’s normal type, but god, could Charlie see the appeal about him. Everything about Danny was flirty. “Life works like that sometimes, yeah? Like me and James rooming together as freshers, or you ending up at Lavvy Fields. Sometimes you just get tinny.”
Charlie drew his eyebrows together, trying to parse out what Danny had said. Nick laughed and shook his head. “See, this is why our living Aussie-English dictionary isn’t allowed to leave your side. From inference…lucky?”
Danny winked and blew him a kiss. “Right-o, Nicky my love. Don’t listen to what Charlie says, you’re just as smart as you are pretty.” Everyone laughed, and Charlie joined in too, startled at the joke.
He knew it was a joke, and it warmed him to think of the rest of them counting on one of the people who’d rinse Nick. At the same time, Charlie felt a tiny stab of panic. Did Danny know about his crush on Nick? Probably, right? Charlie knew himself well enough to know that he was probably unintentionally mooning over Nick, eyes following him wherever Nick went. But then again - Danny didn’t seem the type who’d make fun of Charlie for that crush or make it obvious. It was just a joke, right? It had to be a joke. Charlie knew the smile was plastered to his face as he walked, worrying and stewing over what Danny had said.
Charlie blinked when Nick drew even with him, giving him a little nudge with his shoulder. “How are you feeling? Any better?” Nick’s cheeks looked pink with the cold.
God, Nick was attractive. Charlie suppressed his blush. “Oh. Oh, yeah. A lot better,” he said, trying to get a hold of himself. “God, I haven’t drank like that in ages. Probably for good reason, too.”
“Whatever, you’re still in the throes of your youth,” said Nick, and Charlie laughed.. “I remember when I was in my twenties…” Nick narrowed his eyes, pointing at Charlie. “Wait. How old are you?”
Charlie adopted a supercilious tone. “A lady never reveals her age.” He knew that he and Nick were about eighteen months apart, from his… research. “I’m twenty-nine.”
Nick sighed mournfully. “Ah, yes, to be in my twenties again…”
Charlie rolled his eyes and laughed. “You are literally thirty-one; you are barely out of your twenties!”
Nick lifted an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”
Abort, Charlie, abort! “I, uh-”
Nick’s mouth fell open and he looked delighted. “Did you Google me, Charlie?”
Charlie blushed down to his chest, eyes wide. “Well, I - everyone does!” Deflect, Charlie, Nick said you were good at deflection! “And…well, have you Googled me?”
“Of course not!” said Nick, looking affronted. “I never would Google any of my friends. Hey, by the way, congratulations on taking third in the science fair in Year 12. That project on albedo sounded fascinating.”
Charlie gaped at him, having entirely forgotten about that project he had done in school. Mr. Farouk had told him that it was exemplary, he remembered now. Oh god, Nick had Googled him?! To be honest…Charlie kind of loved that. He met Nick’s gaze and they both burst out laughing. “Okay, so we’re equally nosy,” Charlie conceded.
Nick tilted his head and his grin pulled up at one cheek. “I’d say…equally invested in the successes and happenings of our friends.” Friends. Charlie had finally caught on that maybe they actually were friends, but it felt so nice to have Nick actually say it.
“Oi, catch up!” Tex called from ahead of them, the group now metres ahead. Charlie and Nick shared a grin and then broke into a jog, hurrying to catch up.
-
Charlie was shocked when it was time to leave; the day had gone by so quickly. They had come back from the walk to Amy, Seamus, and James all lounging in the parlour, Seamus’s hair looking suspiciously mussed. Charlie eyed Amy carefully and she looked back at him, sending him a cheeky wink. Oh, they’d be talking later. She had sent Charlie her breakup Spotify mix and Charlie was going to be listening to that on the car ride back to London.
It was time to take off now, and everyone was lingering on the porch, no one seeming to want to make the first move and end the weekend. James broke first, hugging everyone and literally dragging Danny away, who started singing “In the Arms of the Angels” while reaching out melodramatically for Nick. The rest of them took off in quick succession too, Charlie overhearing them all talking about New Year’s Eve. Charlie wondered if he’d still be here then. He doubted it. Charlie felt an odd stirring of envy, imagining all of them together without him. Nick’s friends, Charlie reminded himself. Not his.
Charlie shouldered his bag and turned to say goodbye to Nick, who slapped himself on the forehead. “Oh, fuck, Charlie! I almost forgot…” Nick pulled out his phone and tapped on it, and Charlie felt his buzz. “I have something for you…”
Charlie could feel his breath get shallower as Nick came to stand next to him, holding his phone so Charlie could see it. He was close and warm and Charlie could smell the scent of his cologne, one Charlie imagined had lingered on his own skin after they had hugged at the end of the previous night. Nick pressed play and Charlie saw Nick’s face fill the screen. “Hey, Oliver! We heard you’re a Badgers fan.”
Charlie looked up sharply at Nick, and then back at the screen. Oliver? Had Nick…had Nick made an entire video for Olly?
Now the picture shifted to Danny, his grin huge. “We also heard you’re the brother of one Charlie Spring. And he’s pretty cool, but I’ll be honest, mate, we’ve heard there’s an even better Spring out there.”
Charlie could feel his throat tightening with emotion as Danny turned the phone to face James. Had they all done this? He looked at Nick, who had a soft smile on his face, looking at his phone. “We’ll need you to come out here to see us soon,” said James. “We’ll all be back in a few weeks, and we have it on good authority that your brother is going to try to get you to come out here.”
Nick looked at him now, a happy smile that Charlie tremulously returned, feeling staggered with amazement and appreciation. On the video, Seamus and Tex waved and greeted Olly before the camera moved to Nellie and Henry, finally settling on Nick again. “These girls say hi, too. They can’t wait to meet you. So make sure your brother gets you moo-ving over the holidays to come see us!” The video ended with a cut-off, intermingled booing from James and Seamus, with Danny laughing in the background.
The video ended and Charlie stared at Nick, unable to speak for a moment. Nick had made that video for Olly. For Charlie. It was the single most thoughtful thing a man had done for Charlie, maybe ever.
Nick looked nervous as the silence stretched on, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Do you…do you think he’ll like it?”
Charlie was frozen for another moment before catching himself, still utterly blown away by Nick. “Oh my god, Nick. He is going to love this so, so much.” Charlie looked at Nick, astonished at this man, this real man who was so kind and gorgeous and caring and beautiful, inside and out. Charlie knew there were no words to express how much he appreciated Nick Nelson. “Thank you - thank you so much. For doing that for him.”
Nick’s worried expression smoothed and he smiled. “You’re welcome. If he’s anything like you, he deserves it.” Before Charlie could deal with that, Nick reached out and pulled Charlie into a hug. Charlie shut his eyes and breathed it in again: the feeling of Nick’s arms, the press of his chest, the firmness with which he held Charlie. Charlie loved all of it. He loved all of it and he hated all of it a bit because he’d never have that with Nick. Someone like Nick, maybe - if Charlie was lucky. If he was incredibly lucky. But not Nick.
After not long enough, they released one another and stepped back. Charlie smiled at Nick, looking up at him. “Well,” said Charlie awkwardly. “Bye for now, then.” He gave a shy wave and got into his car. Nick waved back from the porch as Charlie backed up and then drove away, his heart spinning madly.
When Charlie was safely and fully out of sight from Lavender Fields, he pulled to the side of the road and opened his rucksack, taking out the journal. Charlie added one more bullet point to his list, staring out the windscreen for a long time as the ink dried on the page.
Is Nick Nelson
Notes:
Since songbird melted me, here is a melted dessert:
Molten Lava Cakes (from Jean-Georges Vongerichten)
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped (about 1 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons)
1/2 cup unsalted butter (4 ounces), cubed, plus more for greasing the ramekins
2 large eggs, room temperature <-- yes, room temperature does matter!
2 large egg yolks, room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the ramekinsPreheat oven to 450°F. Butter and lightly flour four 6-ounce ramekins. Tap out excess flour. Set the ramekins on a baking sheet.
Fill a medium saucepan with an inch of water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low to maintain a simmer. Combine chocolate and butter in a medium-size heatproof bowl, and set bowl over the simmering water in the pan, making sure the bottom of bowl doesn’t touch the water. Cook over medium-low, stirring occasionally and adjusting heat as needed to maintain a simmer, until chocolate mixture is melted and smooth, about 16 to 20 minutes (maybe play a lil episode of Heartstopper in the background?). Remove from heat, and set aside.
Beat the room temperature eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl with an electric mixer on high speed until thickened and pale, 2 to 3 minutes.
Whisk the chocolate in the bowl until melted and smooth. Quickly fold in the melted chocolate mixture and flour into the egg mixture in bowl until everything is well combined and no streaks remain. Spoon the batter evenly into prepared ramekins (about 1/2 cup per ramekin); smooth the top using a small offset spatula if needed.
Place a baking sheet with the ramekins in the preheated oven, and bake until the tops of the cakes are just set and the edges spring back when touched but centers still feel soft, about 9 to 12 minutes.
Remove the cakes from oven and let them cool in ramekins on baking sheet for 1 minute. Working with 1 ramekin at a time, cover the ramekin with an inverted dessert plate. Carefully turn over, and let stand 10 seconds before lifting the ramekin to unmold cake. Repeat unmolding procedure with remaining cakes. Now eat that bitch!
Chapter 40: Charlie's POV: Beat
Summary:
Nick and Charlie get some solo time together. Nick finds a drum set for Charlie. Wait, how did Nick find a drum set?
Notes:
Google review for waveofyou and NellieSayzBork's beta skills:
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ out of ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (average rating: 4.69 [because 69])
"Amazing comments, both hilarious and insightful. The exteriors are gorgeous, but the inside is even better - warm and welcoming! They do season with fairly heavy dick innuendo, but that just adds more flavor. Would recommend."A reminder that Yojfull is writing the incredible Sowing Wild Lavender, which follows Sarah along her travel adventures. A MAJOR warning to anyone named Nick Nelson: This fic is not for you; I promise it will make you feel ☹️ If you are not Nick Nelson, then you will be 🫠🤩😍🫦
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
To be fair, Tao made it a while before he finally cracked.
“We get it, Charlie,” he said, the exasperation clear in his voice. “Nick is perfect and his friends are perfect and the video for Olly was perfect. But Nick is the most perfect of all.”
Elle rolled her eyes at her husband and Charlie felt his neck heat up. “I didn’t - I was just telling you about the weekend!” They were eating a soup Charlie had made for the three of them, gathered around the small table in Elle and Tao’s flat. When Tao walked in and saw Charlie in the kitchen, his brow had furrowed and he demanded that the imposter in his kitchen release Charlie Spring from wherever he was kidnapped. Charlie had just laughed and gone back to cooking, consulting the long message from Nick where he’d typed out the recipe for Charlie to be able to follow.
Tao inclined his head towards Charling, giving him a withering look. “Just telling us about the weekend by way of Rugby King Nick Nelson.” Charlie could practically hear the capital letters in Tao’s words. “About Nick making pizzas. And playing games with Nick. And Nick and his mates making a video for Olly.”
“Well, that all happened!” Charlie said defensively, ears burning now too. He had talked about Nick, sure, but that was to be expected. He had spent the entire weekend with Nick, of course he had brought him up. Though reflecting back now, Charlie realised that Nick’s name had featured in all of the stories. A lot. And maybe a bunch of side stories, too. And sure, while Charlie was cooking he might have been talking about Nick and all of the incredible food he made.
Elle smiled at him warmly. “It sounds like Nick made sure that you were a part of the visit with everyone, so it makes sense that he came up a lot when you told us about the weekend,” she said, looking at Tao pointedly, who rolled his eyes but stayed silent. Elle looked back at Charlie, the smile on her face again, gentle. “He seems like he really cares about you.”
Charlie jolted, her words making it sound so much more intimate than it was. Charlie now understood that he and Nick were friends, to his perpetually astonished delight. But the way Elle had phrased it - she had made it accidentally sound like Nick, like, liked Charlie. Cared about Charlie in that way. That type of liking was one-sided, though Charlie wasn’t going to tell that to his nighttime fantasies. Regardless, it wasn’t like that for Nick. In fact, Elle didn’t mean anything by it, Charlie knew. It was just Charlie’s stupid crush that was twisting everything about Nick to try to make it line up with the daydreams he had about a Nick confessing his feelings for Charlie. “I - yeah,” Charlie said lamely. “He’s been a great friend.”
Elle didn’t say anything else, but Tao snorted. “Great friend,” he muttered. “Too bad you don’t have two of those handy.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and grinned at Tao, mussing his hair in the way that he knew Tao hated. “Aw, Tao, are you jealous?”
Tao scoffed. “Of that giant rugby lad? Please.”
Charlie looked at him in mock-empathy. “You’re probably worried that now that I’m basically a professional rugby player I’ll leave you behind when I skyrocket to fame, right?”
Tao laughed and shook his head, face relaxing from his scowl. “I still cannot believe that you played rugby with literal adult professional athlete men.”
“Me neither,” said Charlie ruefully. He really couldn’t believe it. There was a lot that he couldn’t believe - that he’d played rugby, that he’d scored a… thing, that he’d hung out with Nick’s friends and had a blast. The biggest one, though, might have been the video that Nick and his mates had made. That was the most unbelievable part. Charlie sent it to Olly as soon as he’d gotten out of the car on Sunday night, Facetiming Olly on their computers so that he could watch Olly’s reaction, watching the video on his phone.
It had been predictably outrageous, Olly’s face changing from shock to amazement to utter, gobsmacked, incredulous joy.
“Nick Nelson made a video for me?” Olly squeaked, his eyes shining as he looked at Charlie, and then back at his phone.
Maybe also for me? Charlie felt the thought flash into his brain, the words heating up his cells. Nick was clearly an amazing friend to the people in his life, going above and beyond. It didn’t mean anything that Nick made the video for Charlie beyond that fact - that Nick was an astonishingly thoughtful person to his friends. Still. That felt…nice. “He did,” Charlie said with a grin, watching as Olly got up and paced around his room in utter awe, nearly (and almost literally) bouncing off the walls in his glee and shock. Charlie had smiled the entire time. He loved to see his brother so happy.
Charlie had told Elle and Tao about the video, too, Elle’s eyes shining. She loved Olly, as did Tao. Neither of them had seen him in a bit, but Charlie knew both of them thought of him as their own little brother to a degree. He had been just a kid when they were in secondary, and they were all equally invested in each others’ lives. Charlie knew that Tao would have been apoplectic if Charlie had told him the whole story about Ben, and he’d kept the details fairly vague when he’d recounted the breakup to Tao.
Charlie was fairly glowing as he lay on the pull-out sofa in Elle and Tao’s small living room that Sunday evening, taking out his phone to send a message back to Nick, a GIF of a woman deeply sighing in response to some terrible pun Nick sent. It had been a truly amazing weekend, capped off with a lovely night with Elle and Tao. Tao had been grumpy about Charlie’s constant reflections on Nick, but Charlie knew part of it was performative. Charlie did need to get the whole “endless talking about Nick” thing under control, though. He wouldn’t put it past Tao to implement some sort of Nick-swear-jar type of thing, and despite Charlie’s decent salary, he’d probably run out of money within the two days he was in London.
-
It was actually kind of nice to be in the office for a couple days, Charlie had to admit. He liked working remotely, but he also authentically liked a lot of his colleagues, Anita especially. She and Charlie spent their lunch together on Monday. Charlie had hauled the massive cookbook from Lavender Fields into the office so that Anita could see some of the recipes and the breadth of what Nick’s mum had to offer. The two of them pored over it, Anita pointing out the formatting that they might use for a particular recipe or cooing at the sound of one of the dishes. She promised Charlie that she’d make a few proofs and that she’d be able to get Charlie some pages the next day so that he could bring them to Lavender Fields when he went back for the week.
Charlie liked being in the office, though he knew most of the pleasantness came from knowing that the treat at the end of two long workdays in the office was being back at Lavender Fields. Now that Charlie had spent more time there, he knew how normal and fun and nice it felt with Nick - his breakdown the other day aside - and he couldn’t wait to go back. Every time Charlie thought of Nick, he could feel his heart pick up and his pulse race. The thought of being around Nick again and getting to hear his laugh, eat his cooking, smell his perfect scent - Charlie got a delighted thrill every time he thought about it. Charlie knew that he was essentially hopeless at this point, his crush feeling like a steamroller that had already flattened Charlie and was coming back round for another go. Charlie would be able to contain himself, though, and would continue to try to focus on what he liked about Nick for a potential future partner. Not Nick as a potential partner of course, though Charlie could think of literally nothing he wanted more.
Being around Nick also meant the potential for more hugs, too. Charlie wanted more Nick Nelson hugs.
The work day went by surprisingly quickly, and Charlie gave Anita a warm wave before heading out. Elle and Tao were both out that evening, Elle with some evening clients and Tao working a film event. Charlie stretched out on their sofa after his shower and dinner, relishing in the quiet and solitude. His phone buzzed and he reached for it, a smile already on his face. He and Nick had been messaging on and off throughout the day, and Charlie readied himself for some adorable picture of Nellie or Henry (hopefully with Nick in it, too). Charlie picked up his phone and immediately felt a dull, low pit in his belly, the name on the screen making him feel sick.
Ben ❤️: What’s the address of where we send the rent to? I need to set out the automatic payments on my bank account
Charlie swallowed hard, bile threatening to raise up in his throat. Charlie had once gotten sick when he’d gone through a tunnel in the car with his parents. It was a sunny day and Charlie remembered blinking in the sudden, shocking darkness when they entered the tunnel. Then the car would pass under one of the harsh, bright lights and Charlie would be bathed in light, then plunged into darkness again. Light, dark. Light, dark. The oscillation had made Charlie feel dizzy and unwell, the harsh back and forth too much for his system. It felt like that with Ben, to a degree. Charlie would be bathed in light like he was over the weekend, enjoying himself and almost forgetting about Ben, even temporarily. Then Ben would call or message and Charlie would be plunged back into darkness, feeling lost and small and disoriented. It would pass and Charlie would move back into the light again, only for Ben to pull him back into the blackness.
Dark, light. Dark, light, the voice chanted inside Charlie’s head. He hated remembering that Ben was around, was in their old flat. Charlie hated the memories of Ben, the words and recollections that still haunted Charlie’s brain. What Charlie hated most was that some of those memories and recollections weren’t all negative, some of the infrequent kindnesses tugging gently at Charlie’s brain. Sometimes Charlie would picture Ben’s face, the vulnerable scared boy that Charlie had gotten a glimpse of only a few times. In those moments, Charlie felt betrayed by his brain, like it was trying to pull him back into Ben and back in the darkness, because it was at least darkness he knew. Charlie didn’t want to be pulled back, though. He wanted to be done. He wanted to stay in the light.
Charlie sighed. He wanted to be done, but this was really his fault. Charlie had been paying the rent and Ben had wanted to make it easier. He’d just sent Charlie the money for his half and Charlie was the one who worried about logistics. It really was Charlie’s fault for not pulling together the logistical details like that that Ben needed.
Cfspring: 42 Pont St, London SW1X 0AD, United Kingdom
Charlie sent the message and then locked his phone, stomach feeling like steel. The feeling of a message from Ben was entirely different now. In the past, Charlie’s heart would have leapt at a message from Ben, feeling giddy and delighted by any attention from Ben. Now, seeing Ben’s name just caused that swoop of uneasiness, the confusing jerk of dark-light-dark. Charlie was about to get up to do something - even just get away from his phone, maybe - when it buzzed again.
Ben ❤️: Thanks love 😘
Charlie stared at it, his disorientation growing. The pet name, the flirty emoji - this from the man who just two days before called Charlie and told him how worthless and pathetic he was? The same man who told Charlie that whoever was hosting him was going to get sick of him? Charlie felt ill, the emotional whiplash too much. His thumbs hovered over his phone, debating what to say back. Charlie stayed there for a moment, his breath shallow and mind racing. Should he tell Ben off? Tell him he was welcome and ignore the emoji? Apologise for not sending the address preemptively? No. Definitely not the last one. That wasn’t on Charlie. The thought sent a small skittering flame down his belly, a flickering warmth. That wasn’t on Charlie. In fact, it wasn’t on Charlie to respond at all. He deleted the only thing he had written (“I’m”) and locked his phone, tossing it on the sofa and getting up to make tea.
A few minutes later, Charlie’s phone buzzed again and he picked it up, forehead wrinkled.
Ben ❤️: Don’t ignore me, Charlie 😘
Charlie felt his mouth tighten. He picked up his phone and went into Ben’s contact, changing his name. He had noticed that Nick never referred to Ben as his name, only as B. Hope. With a flash of suppressed satisfaction, Charlie looked at the new contact:
B. Hope
No heart. No first name. Just a memory. Charlie went to lock his phone again when another message came in, and then another.
B. Hope: Charlie, ffs, you can’t ignore me forever
B. Hope: you know we’re not over
Charlie’s jaw tightened now, and he put his phone on Do Not Disturb, clenching his teeth together when he heard a notification come through regardless.
B. Hope: do not disturb? Really Charlie?
B. Hope: Don’t pretend you don’t want to hear from me
B. Hope: I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry. I love you and I want you to come back home
B. Hope: I know you want to see me
B. Hope: come on, we can talk
B. Hope: lol don’t make me show up at your work
Charlie felt his heart clench in his chest. That “lol” was so unlike Ben. Come to think of it, Ben never put laughter in his messages. He did sometimes laugh at messages that he received, but he never said so in his messages and replied. No “Ha-Ha” reaction, no “lol”, no laughing face emojis. Nick used those all the time, sometimes sending a string of crying with laughter emojis at something ridiculous that Charlie said. The “lol” stood there, making Charlie feel colder than three letters should have been able to make him, something to make the threat of his other words seem softer, like a joke. Would Ben - would Ben actually show up at Charlie’s work? He probably guessed where Charlie was staying, but Charlie reckoned that he wouldn't show up at Elle and Tao’s. Tao would happily tell him off and Charlie knew how much Ben would hate that. At work though?
Charlie’s mind raced the rest of the evening, anxious thoughts chasing themselves in circles. Would Ben show up at work? What would Ben do if he actually did? What did he want to say to Charlie? What did he want to talk about? How would Charlie feel if he actually showed up? What would Charlie do? Would he say something else to Charlie, cut him down? Tell him how pathetic he was again and how he’d be alone forever? Charlie’s stomach clenched at the thought. It was nice to daydream about Nick and imaginary partners, but none of it was real. All of it was just fantasy, silly naive fantasy that wasn’t going to come through. Charlie muted the thread with Ben and pretended he was asleep when Elle and Tao came back, both of them quiet as they made their way through the flat and into the bedroom.
It took a long time for sleep to find him that night.
-
The next day at work, Charlie was jumpy all day. He hadn’t slept much, feeling bleary and anxious in the morning when he said goodbye to Elle and Tao, taking his bags with him to go to Lavender Fields after work. Charlie ended up quietly telling Anita about the message from Ben as they talked over the proofs she had made up. She’d walked with him to the tube after work, her keys clutched in the spaces between her fingers like metallic spikes. It had been silly - Ben would never do anything physical - but it made Charlie feel better to have her with him. Anita gave him a tight hug before he left, whispering that she was there for anything he needed.
Charlie couldn’t shake his exhaustion and nerves as he drove to Lavender Fields. He was on edge, nerves jangled from the messages from Ben and the lack of sleep the night before. Charlie had been weak and looked at the muted thread before he left, seeing a few more messages from Ben roll in throughout the day. His eyes would periodically jump to the rearview mirror, like Ben was going to be following him in his sleek, leased Jaguar. Ben never told anyone that, always making it seem like he owned the car outright. He didn’t. Charlie knew that.
By the time Charlie got on the lane to Lavender Fields he felt nearly wrecked with exhaustion. As he drove towards the house, though, Charlie could feel the leaden weight in his stomach start to dissolve into feathery fragments that swirled and tickled as they disappeared. Every rotation of his tyres were bringing him close to Lavender Fields. Closer to Nick.
Despite how weary Charlie felt, his heart sped up as he saw the edge of the Lavender Fields property. No matter what else had happened, Nick would be there. They had messaged a bit in the last few days as normal, but Charlie knew that he’d been distracted. It would be amazing to actually get to see Nick again, to feel comfortable and safe at Lavender Fields. The lethargy and exhaustion pulled on him as he got out of the car, but it was tempered by the siren’s call of Nick’s smile, beaming in the darkness as he came over to Charlie’s car. Charlie hoisted his rucksack over one shoulder but immediately lost his grip when Nick pulled him into a hug, the bag banging against both of them. Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the feeling of being around Nick again. It was comfort embodied, secure and immediate. God, Charlie had missed Nick.
“Anything else in the car?” asked Nick. Even his voice made it feel like there was warm water being poured down Charlie’s spine.
“Nope,” said Charlie, returning Nick’s smile as best he could and trying to mask how tired he was. “I left a lot of stuff last time and I did laundry on Sunday when I was here, so I didn’t have to bring much.”
Nick nodded easily and Charlie followed him into the house, the light warm and glowing and seemingly filling up both the night and Charlie’s chest. He took a deep breath as they made their way into the dining room, feeling the relief of being back at Lavender Fields. Out of London. Away from Ben’s reach.
Nick glanced over with a sidelong look at Charlie. “Was work okay? You right?”
Charlie blinked, guessing his exhale had a little too much behind it. Of course Nick would pick up on that. Nick picked up on everything. He gave Nick a weak smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just had - I got rattled a little by something yesterday.”
Nick nodded, and Charlie thought he could see a muscle jumping in Nick’s jaw before he looked down, not wanting to get caught ogling Nick’s perfectly strong, incredible jawline. God, even when B. Hope was on the shittest of his shit, Nick’s hotness could always distract Charlie. “Yeah?” Nick asked, his voice gentler than Charlie expected. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Charlie looked at Nick, searching his face. They were friends. It would be nice to unburden himself a little - nice to tell Nick about what happened and get to process it a little. Plus there was a certain element about Nick - something that felt…protective. Charlie supposed it was like Amy had said - that there was a protectiveness Nick had around his friends. “I…” Charlie debated it for a moment, then pushed it all down. This wasn’t Nick’s shit to deal with. This was Charlie’s shit to deal with, and he wasn’t going to burden Nick with it. And god, Charlie was so tired. He realised it now that he was here and safe and comfortable - just how bone-weary he was. “No, not right now, I think.”
Nick’s forehead was creased. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. “Honestly, I’m knackered. I think I’m going to go up early, but I can’t wait to catch up tomorrow.” Charlie smiled at Nick, and it felt a little more authentic this time.
“Same,” said Nick, nodding quickly and cracking his knuckles. He looked over his shoulder towards the front of the house and then back at Charlie. “Hey can you - can you come down in the morning a little early tomorrow? Like before you start work? I found something I want to show you.”
Charlie tilted his head. He looked at Nick and really saw him for the first time since arriving back, noticing that Nick seemed a little - jumpy, maybe? But not, like, in a bad way. Excited? Charlie couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Yes?”
“Okay, great,” said Nick, smiling. “Well then…goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight,” Charlie echoed, smiling back at Nick. He distantly wondered if maybe there was a new cow or something - a baby cowlet that might blow Olly’s mind. That would be adorable. Charlie slowly dragged himself upstairs and lay on the bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. Within a minute, Charlie fell into a deep, dreamless doze.
-
Charlie woke up feeling as though he had chewed on raw shrimp all night, the horrific result of having gone to bed without brushing his teeth. He had been so tired last night and fallen asleep almost immediately, pulled in by both the exhaustion of the days before and the comfort of being back at Lavender Fields and back around Nick. Charlie glanced at the clock - he was still tired now, but he needed to get up for whatever Nick was going to show him. Figuring that he could work out later, Charlie pulled on black jeans and a soft green sweater, one that he’d had for years and made him feel cosy, particularly when he was anxious.
Charlie went downstairs to find the kitchen empty. He grinned to himself and set about making the coffee and tea, making Nick’s in a travel flask with the amount of milk Nick always liked. Charlie loved the rare moments he could do something for Nick, and was rewarded by Nick’s glowing smile when he came in, taking the tea from Charlie and lifting the lid off to give an approving nod.
Nick smiled at him and it lit up the entire room. “Thank you!” He sipped the tea and sighed happily, then pointed at Charlie. “Don’t think this gets you out of pun-laughing obligations for the day, though,” Nick said firmly, nodding at Charlie. “We signed a trea-tea about that. Get it? Like treaty? But-”
“I literally always get it.” Charlie tried to stay neutral, shaking his head as if disappointed, but he failed to fully suppress his laughter. He grinned and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head at Nick. Dark, light. Dark, light. Charlie already felt so light, being here with Nick again. “Now what’s this big surprise that made me miss my super-healthy doom-scrolling of the news and social media before work?”
Nick raised his eyebrows and grinned, not responding. He turned to go out the front door, looking back at Charlie with a cheeky expression. Charlie snorted and followed him, pulling on his coat as he did. He would have followed Nick anywhere and to anything of course, but he was particularly intrigued by Nick wanting to show him something. The morning was chilly and Charlie wrapped his hands around his travel flask of coffee as he followed Nick down and across the road, heading towards the barn. Maybe it was a new cow, Charlie thought with excitement, though when he and Nick made their way to the girls, it was just Nellie and Henry. Charlie said hello to them as Nick pushed down some hay and then joined Charlie, their breath frosty and white in the cool air.
“Let’s go to the upper floor of the barn again,” Nick suggested in a faux-casual voice, and Charlie grinned. He assumed that whatever Nick wanted to show him was in the upper part of the barn and followed Nick up the hill, trying to not let his eyes linger on the powerful backside working up the incline in front of him.
They stood in front of the large barn doors, Charlie’s breath quick in his chest from the climb up the hill. Nick was standing there looking like he was eight years old, quite literally bouncing on his toes.
Charlie crossed his arms but couldn’t fight down the amused smile. “Okay, out with it, Nick Nelson.”
Nick raised his chin and grinned, moving to put his hand on the handle of the barn door. “Give me my moment. They didn’t call me PT Barnum for nothing when I was growing up.”
Charlie tilted his head. “...What?”
“Because I’m the greatest showman,” said Nick, throwing open the door to the barn on the last word. Charlie laughed and followed him into the barn, which was filled with a host of things. There were farm-y looking things, of course, but also some unexpected items, like skis and what looked like a wrapped-up volleyball net. Nick led Charlie to a corner of the barn, where there was something large under a white sheet. Nick took the sheet dramatically, making sure Charlie was watching. Charlie grinned and rolled his eyes. “Et…voila!” said Nick, whipping off the sheet and metaphorically whipping off Charlie’s panties with his perfect, throaty French accent. Did Nick speak French? God, that was going to be the next forty bullets on Charlie’s potential partner list. Charlie was so dazed by Nick’s perfect pronunciation that it took him a moment to actually see what was in front of him.
It was a full TAMA drum set, and a high-end one, too. The colour was absolutely gorgeous, an oceanic mix of blues and greens that looked like they were almost dripping off the drums. It took a moment for Charlie to fully understand that this was here, that there was a drum set in the barn. He looked at Nick, and then back at the drums. “Oh my god, Nick! There’s a drum set here?! This is amazing!”
Nick beamed. “I know! I was cleaning out the barn this weekend while you were away and found them!”
Charlie went closer, hardly even able to take in Nick’s words. He was amazed that Nick had found a drum set in the barn among all of the stuff in there. He traced his fingers over the drums. They looked…they looked almost perfect, honestly. Charlie knelt down to look closer. “God, they’re in great shape,” said Charlie, shaking his head and running his fingers along the surface of the base drum. The whole set looked like they had barely been used. “It’s odd, this looks like a new set - they don’t even seem much used, just, like - dirty and with a few scratches and stuff; I wonder how your mum-”
“Dunno,” said Nick as Charlie continued to marvel at the set, noting with confusion that the tips of his fingers came away stained with the tiniest bit of black after running them along the drums’ skin. “She’s gotten loads of stuff from people around here, though, with so much space to store it, you know? This barn is massive; I found a ton of things when I was poking around yesterday.”
Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes off the set. This was a higher-end set of TAMA drums - the STAR series, actually. They cost a few quid and Charlie reckoned they had only been made for a few years. He was staggered that Nick had found them. Charlie continued to look, murmuring aloud. “She must have gotten them in the last, like, couple of years, they’re still so-”
Nick’s voice echoed a little around the barn, making Charlie jump and look at him. “I only got here full-time a few months ago myself. So, no idea. But I want to hear you play!”
Charlie straightened up, his heart squeezing in his chest. “You want to…hear me play?” He felt a tiny glimmer of excitement. Nick had never seen him play. Nick had never seen him do anything cool, besides maybe that rugby match.
Nick looked at him as if puzzled. “Uh, yes? I want to hear the famous Charlie Spring, drumming wonderkid-”
Charlie grinned. “Wunderkind.”
“Right, yeah, that - the prodigy Charlie Spring! I want to hear him play!”
Charlie straightened up, laughing and shaking his head at Nick. “I could be rubbish for all you know.”
Nick gave him a challenging look that made Charlie’s stomach squeeze. God, Charlie needed to get this crush under control. “Well - are you?”
Stop drumming on everything, Charlie.
God, can you keep your hands still for a second while we’re watching TV?
I don’t make you share my hobbies, Charlie, I don’t need to listen to yours.
Charlie raised his chin, defiant against the memories trying to crowd in. There might not have been a lot of things he was good at, but drumming was one of them. And Nick wanted to hear him play. “No,” Charlie said finally, a glimmer of pride in his voice. “I’m good.”
Nick grinned at him with that half-hitched smile that did nothing to reduce Charlie’s fluttery feelings. “Prove it, Springtime,” said Nick. He handed Charlie a set of brand-new drumsticks, the wood gleaming in the light. “Got these for you so you could play out here.”
“You got me drumsticks?” repeated Charlie. Nick had… Nick had bought him drumsticks? Charlie blinked at that, imagining Nick finding the drums. Finding them and then driving to town, to buy drumsticks for Charlie. Going into a store for Charlie. Driving back and keeping them in anticipation of Charlie coming and Charlie playing the drums. Charlie blinked against an inappropriate rush of emotions, taking the drumsticks carefully from Nick’s hand. He forced himself to look directly into Nick’s eyes, though every time he did, Charlie was worried he might get lost in them. “That’s really thoughtful, Nick. Thank you.”
Nick grinned, easy and casual. “Not at all. This is selfishly for me too, you know. It gets too quiet around here sometimes, I need someone to help this place find its…rhythm.”
Charlie spun one of the drumsticks in his fingers and rolled his eyes, nearly laughing aloud at how Nick’s eyes nearly popped out at that. He grinned, authentically excited. He hadn’t played a real drum set in ages, and if Nick was impressed by him spinning a drumstick…well, Charlie was about to finally prove himself cool enough to hang out with Nick Nelson.
There was a pause, then Nick grinned. “I’m not sorry.”
Charlie laughed loudly. “You never are,” he said, throwing a grin at Nick and feeling his skin warm up despite the cold air. He got to play the drums. And for Nick, too. “All right…Let’s do this.” Charlie closed his eyes, starting with a basic beat and feeling out the set. He nodded his head as he got into it, mixing up rhythms and feeling like he was actually playing. Playing the drums, yes, but it also felt playful, like he was a kid in secondary school again, feeling what it must be like for the athlete kids when they played their sport or for the drama kids in a play. Charlie felt alive, fluid, sparkling. He loved this feeling. His electronic drum kit had been packed away since the breakup with Ben, and playing now made him feel utterly alive. Charlie ended his solo with a flourish, the reverberation from the cymbal filling up the barn.
Nick shook his head, looking awed. “You are fucking unreal, Charlie Spring!”
Charlie laughed, feeling like the whole world was filled with light. God, he felt so alive. Charlie grinned at Nick, then suddenly blinked, realising he had no idea what time it was. He looked down at his watch and cursed. “Shit, I have to get to work.”
Nick shook a finger at him. “Not before breakfast, young man,” he said, and Charlie laughed. “Grab a plate before you go up; I’ll grab the dishes later. Go on without me; I need to haul down some grain for the girls before I come back in.”
“Sounds good,” said Charlie, looking at Nick with what he knew was a huge, dopey smile before looking at the drums again, running his fingers along the smooth metal and polished wood. They were really in spectacular shape. “Thanks, Nick. And oh my god - thank you for finding these drums! I haven’t had a real drum set in ages.”
Nick looked up from where he’d been looking at the drums, too, following Charlie’s movements. “Yeah, since you lived at home, right?”
Charlie looked up, surprised. “How’d you know that?”
Nick shook his head at Charlie in a friendly, puzzled manner. “You told me? The first week you were here?”
“And you remembered…?” Charlie trailed off. ‘Remembers what I say,’ Charlie’s brain chanted at him, one of the bullets from his list of ideal partner characteristics. Nick had entirely given him an unreasonable expectation of a future boyfriend. He took a breath to try to tame some of the swirling butterflies in his stomach, the ones that wouldn’t fucking quit flying around when he was with Nick. “This is amazing. I can’t wait to play again after work today.”
Nick grinned. “I can’t wait to listen.”
Charlie went back into the house, leaving Nick in the barn. He was glad Nick wasn’t in the house to see the giant, goofy grin painted on his face. Nick had found him a drum set. Nick had bought him drumsticks. Nick might speak French. Charlie dreamily grabbed breakfast and coffee, heading upstairs to start his meetings, though he knew he’d be distracted all day. Nick Nelson. God, Charlie was absolutely gone.
-
The week felt filled with light. Charlie found time to play the drums when he could, and he was delighted that Nick often joined him as well. Charlie barely even registered the cold in the barn, his whole body glowing and warm with the music coursing through him. Charlie hadn’t realised how much he had missed playing the drums. It had been such a huge part of his life since he was young and one of the few throughlines that had stayed with him, beyond his family, Elle, and Tao. When Charlie came to Lavender Fields on what would have been his honeymoon, his drums had stayed in the flat, of course. Charlie played a few times when he got back, but he hadn’t felt the same passion, the same sense of flow. Now Charlie felt sparkling and alive when he played, his whole body fluid and synchronous.
It didn’t hurt that Nick always looked so impressed, too.
Charlie had an amazing time with Nick’s friends when they were at Lavender Fields, and it was also lovely to get to have time with just him and Nick again. Nick frequently joined him in the barn, always awed by Charlie’s drumming. Charlie privately thought that maybe Nick just hadn’t heard much live music before, but it made Charlie swell with pride all the same. In turn, Charlie joined Nick for some of the chores, acting as sous chef or as “supervision” when Nick turned over rooms. Nick would never actually let him help with that, but he would “allow” Charlie to come along with him, the two of them laughing and joking and inventing stories about the guests in each room.
Charlie had wanted to show Nick the proofs that Anita made, but there had been guests around all week. Everyone was pleasant and lovely, but Charlie wanted the recipe book to be just for them. For Nick, rather. Charlie lingered in the kitchen, surreptitiously cleaning up while Nick spoke to a few guests in the dining room. Charlie had learned to “sneak clean” in order to not get scolded by Nick. Of course, scolding from Nick was just Nick shaking his head and smiling at Charlie, and really just provided further incentive to earn more of it. Anything Charlie could do that made Nick smile was great in his book. Once it was clear that the guests were heading up for the night, Charlie slipped upstairs and got his folder from work, then came back down to find Nick now in the kitchen, busily preparing food for the next day.
Nick smiled at Charlie and Charlie felt his poor, battered, besotted heart twinge, smiling back. Charlie laid a blue folder down on the kitchen counter next to where Nick was working. “So, Nick,” he said, his heart quick in his chest. Why was he nervous? “I wanted to show you a few proofs I have.”
Nick cocked his head, looking confused. He pointed to the dough, proving on the counter. “Uh… Proofs?”
Charlie laughed at the unintentional crossover of baking and publishing language. “Sorry. Some pages? For your mum’s cookbook?” He took out a few of the sheets of paper. Anita had taken a handful of recipes and written out a sample table of content pages as well as poured some of the recipes into several designed templates. Nick came over to Charlie, their shoulders nearly touching. Charlie tried to keep the waver out of his voice despite how deliciously and terrifyingly close Nick was standing. “So, I pulled a few of the recipes and set them, then just added some placeholder art for now, from pictures I pulled online?” Charlie pointed to a picture of a lemon-blueberry loaf. It wasn’t as gorgeous as the one Nick had made (of course) but it at least gave a pretty good sense of how the pages might look.
Nick didn’t say anything for a moment, and Charlie finally looked up from the recipes to glance at him. Charlie’s throat tightened as he took in the soft, amazed look on Nick’s face. Nick’s eyebrows were drawn together, his eyes bright and sparkling. Charlie could see Nick’s throat working and wanted to reach out and touch him on the arm, on the shoulder. Nick looked so open and emotional and sweet and it was one of the most tender things Charlie had seen. Then Nick chuckled, the sound stuttering through the quiet kitchen.
Nick turned his eyes on Charlie, and Charlie melted at how touched Nick looked. “Oh my god, Charlie. This is…thank you.” Nick reached over and gently squeezed Charlie’s forearm for a half a second. Charlie could feel the warmth lingering there, even when Nick’s hand was gone. “This is truly incredible.”
There was a tiny hitch in Nick’s voice and Charlie felt the lump in his throat only grew. He laughed and swiped at his eyes. “God, Nick! You’re going to make me cry!”
“I’m not crying!” Nick protested.
Charlie fixed Nick with a look, putting his hands on his hips. “Oh, what, the big strong rugby lad can’t admit he’s emotional?”
Nick blanched, though he was laughing ruefully. “It’s just the onion I was cutting before.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “That onion looks suspiciously like a pineapple, Nick.”
“Who’s the kitchen expert?” Nick demanded.
Charlie laughed as well. He used his sleeve to brush away a last tear from the corner of his eye. Seeing Nick so openly feeling had gone straight into Charlie’s body. Ben had never felt comfortable with emotions beyond irritation and anger. Vulnerability, wonder, gentleness, tenderness - those were more foreign. “Well, I’ve spent the last week or so looking at recipes, so I’d say both of us!”
Nick fixed Charlie with a smile and it sent Charlie’s poor leaguered heart cartwheeling through his chest. “Fine,” he grinned. “We’re both tender-hearted kitchen aficionados.”
Charlie pretended to consider. “I can accept that.” He smiled back at Nick and there was a beat of silence, one that might have felt charged if Nick had been anything other than straight. Charlie started and looked down at the proofs again to hide his blush. “But do you think this is on the right track? Is there anything you want me to change?”
“Nothing,” said Nick emphatically, and Charlie looked at him. God, everything Nick said - Charlie knew that it was entirely unintentional, but sometimes the things had said or did this week…Charlie had felt flickers of tiny, entirely false hope that week. He was sure Nick both had no idea and would be utterly embarrassed at having given Charlie the wrong idea. Not because Nick would be embarrassed for himself, but for Charlie. That felt even worse, somehow.
Charlie tried to force down the blush on his cheeks. “Well, um - good.”
“What time are you done with work tomorrow?” Nick asked, the glow of the lights making his cheeks look unusually red.
“I can probably escape by like half three,” Charlie said.
“Do you want to go to town?” Nick asked, looking at Charlie. “With me?” he clarified, making Charlie laugh.
“With you? Instead of with Murdery Marvin the portrait person?”
“Don’t laugh, Charlie,” Nick warned. “He is a much better driver than I am.”
Charlie giggled. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Looking forward to it,” Nick said with a grin. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick.”
That night, Charlie caught up on his bullet points, the ones that had started to become a list of the things he liked about Nick rather than musings on a future partner.
- Isn’t afraid to show his emotions
- Can still joke around even in serious moments
Doesn’t want me to change anything
-
Friday passed quickly, Charlie and Anita excitedly exchanging messages about the proofs and Charlie sharing how much Nick had loved them. Anita was delighted and said that she’d get to work chatting to some other people on the nonfiction team, promising to get back to Charlie soon.
Charlie soaked in the trip to town. There had been guests there all week and it was blissful to just have time with Nick, no other distractions. Nick seemed to enjoy the songs Charlie chose, nearly always asking now if Charlie could play each song on the drums.
It was a freezing day and Charlie nipped into the café while Nick dropped off some boxes. Nick exclaimed in gratified surprise when Charlie handed him the coffee.
“Thank you,” Nick said, wrapping his hands around it and sighing at the warmth. He looked at Charlie, his face cheeky. “But I thought you said iced coffee was - how did you put it? ‘The way of the gay’?”
Charlie laughed. “No, that is an invention only possible from your brain. It was too cold and I had to betray my roots just this once.”
“Wouldn’t it be be-gaying your roots?” Nick asked, and Charlie snorted, nearly passing coffee through his nose.
The ride back was just as nice, the two of them talking and occasionally singing, Nick doing his best despite most of the songs being new to him. They had the heat blasting as they went and Charlie decided to use the last few minutes of daylight to play the drums. Nick offered to join, mentioning that he had to do some repairs and could easily do those in the barn.
A few minutes later, Charlie was playing the drums, lost in the music. He loved the feeling of being there with Nick, the two of them each engaged in their own thing but still in the same space together. He didn’t remember a time that Ben had ever sat with Charlie as Charlie played. It was Charlie’s hobby, so Ben had left it to him. Nick had come down quite literally every time Charlie had played that week, even if just for a few minutes. He was always doing his own thing, like reading or fixing something or even scrolling his phone, but Nick was still there. Did Nick actually like listening to the drums? Had he ever played? Had Nick ever played any instrument? Charlie looked at Nick, slightly frowning and fiddling with some plastic black thing on the table. Charlie wanted to know more about Nick - always. He paused and Nick looked up.
Charlie grinned, feeling the tips of his ears glow under Nick’s gaze. “Have you ever played an instrument?”
Nick chuckled. “No, definitely not,” he said. “On the Venn diagram of me and rhythm, it’s just two entirely separate circles.”
Charlie laughed. “Have you ever tried?”
Nick screwed up his face like he was trying to recall. “In the year 4 play they had all of us play something. I remember that eventually Mrs. White just shoved the triangle at me and mumbled something about standing in the back.”
Charlie giggled, imagining bright-red-haired Nick clutching a triangle and looking terrified. “What about the drums?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope. Never.”
Rugby match payback time, bitch, Charlie thought to himself with delighted menacery. He bounced his eyebrows. “Until now,” he said, grinning and nodding at the drumset. “Give it a shot?”
Nick fixed him with a for real? look. “Do you really want to be that cruel to your one and only pair of ears?”
Charlie crossed his arms and grinned. “Don’t talk to my friend Nicholas like that.”
Nick’s jaw dropped and he clutched at his chest, making dramatic scoffing sounds. “That’s my line! You stole my line!” Charlie loved that Nick was always willing to be so silly. He was animated and silly, and it just added to the lightness Charlie felt when he was at Lavender Fields.
“Borrowed,” corrected Charlie, smiling. He nodded again towards the drum set. “Come on, give it a try.”
Nick sighed and made his way over, eyeing the drum set like it was a dangerous animal that might suddenly lunge. Charlie vacated the stool that Nick had found along with the drumset and Nick took his spot. Charlie grinned and winced as Nick banged around on the drums with all of the dexterity of a two year old attempting to zipper up their own coat. There were so many incredible things that Nick was - rugby player, baker, friend, host, incredible hotness-possessor - but drummer? That was not one of them.
“God, you’re terrible,” said Charlie with a gentle, teasing grin.
Nick laughed, his cheeks flushed. “I’m trying!”
Charlie shook his head, loving how earnestly Nick was trying. “Here, budge up, let me help.” He meant to just stand next to Nick but Nick slid over on the stool to make room for them to share it. Charlie tentatively sat down on the crescent of space, entirely aware that his arsecheek and thigh were pressing against Nick’s. Charlie wrapped his hands around Nick’s the same way he had with Elle and Tao while guiding each of them to play the drums. Ben had never wanted to try. Charlie gently shook Nick’s hands to loosen them and then guided him over the drums, tapping out a simple rhythm in the hopes that Nick would be able to take over. But Nick just let his hands stay in Charlie’s, Charlie continuing to play for a few moments, ending with a crash of the cymbals.
Charlie looked over at Nick and smiled. “There,” he said with a little laugh. “You’re a pro now.” Nick laughed and Charlie felt heat steal through his chest. He could feel Nick’s hands warm underneath his and realised that he still had his hands on top of Nick’s. And…Nick hadn’t pulled his hands back. Charlie dropped them immediately, feeling his cheeks burn in the cool air. “That’s probably cheating, though,” he added, getting up and blushing furiously.
The rest of the night was nice - it was with Nick, so of course it was - but Charlie couldn’t stop thinking of the feeling of Nick’s hands under his. Nick’s hands had felt both soft and strong. He couldn’t stop feeling the sensation of Nick’s body next to his, Nick’s hip pressed against Charlie’s. They had hugged before, of course, but they hadn’t been like that, pressed against one another. That night in bed, Charlie pulled the pillow to his side, imagining it was Nick pressed against him instead of cool cotton. It wasn’t the same. Even when Charlie did meet someone eventually (if he did), it might not be the same. Charlie might find some of those bullet points he was looking for, but there was only one Nick Nelson.
-
Charlie got up homophobically early on Saturday. Every room in Lavender Fields was booked and Charlie knew that Nick could use the help. He brewed the coffee and tea and helped bring dishes to the table, both Charlie and Nick smiling at guests and then excusing themselves. They ate together in the kitchen, legs dangling from the kitchen stools. Charlie glanced down only once, imagining sharing a stool with Nick again, their bodies tight and close.
Nick had to do chores so Charlie took his car into town to pick up some jams for Elle, who was hosting a brunch the next day. Charlie was going too, of course, and so was leaving early the next morning to help her set up. This was the first time Charlie had left Lavender Fields since he arrived on Tuesday (beyond his runs), and he kept the music in the truck low, thinking about the week. He couldn’t have imagined that on Monday, after getting those messages from Ben, that he’d be feeling so great. Charlie knew that part of it was from just being at Lavender Fields, but it was more than that, too. Charlie hadn’t realised how much he missed music and playing music, and Nick had made that possible for him, by finding the drums. It seemed so unlikely that Nick’s mum had a full drum set in the barn, but somehow, she had, and Nick had found them.
Charlie had been wondering about the logistics of that all week but had been so busy with helping Nick that he hadn’t really thought about it much. When Charlie got back from town, he waved a quick hello to Nick, who was talking with guests, and went up to his room, opening his laptop. Charlie typed in the name of the drum set and looked up its specifications - a TAMA STAR maple in a colour called Cerulean birdseye burst. Charlie frowned as he scrolled through. The drum set had only been manufactured in that colour for three years, and he recoiled as he looked at the price - over eight thousand pounds, new. Charlie was baffled. How had a drum set like this ended up in Lavender Fields some time in the last three years? Had someone donated it to Sarah, just knowing she had space? It seemed so odd. Nick seemed to have no idea where it had come from, either. Charlie tapped his chin for a few more moments before logging off and heading downstairs. He and Nick were watching a Badgers rugby match that evening, capping off the week with a nice combination of his interests and Nick’s.
Charlie was amazed to find himself authentically interested in the match, leaning towards the TV and holding his breath at several plays. He could feel Nick’s eyes on him and looked over to see Nick grinning.
“Look who’s a rugby fan now!” said Nick, toasting Charlie’s glass with his beer bottle. “I see you, secret Badgers fan.”
Charlie laughed and rolled his eyes, tilting his head towards the TV. “It’s easier to care about something when it’s people you know, you know?”
“I know,” said Nick, making Charlie snort.
They ate dinner together, though Charlie lived in some anxiety of Nick’s plate tipping over and sending pesto chicken everywhere in his exuberance. The match ended up going into extra time after the Badgers scored to tie it up with less than three minutes on the clock. At the final whistle, Charlie realised with a start that he was chewing in his bottom lip, fingers clenched in anxiety. The match had ended in an 18-all draw and felt like it took several years off Charlie’s life. “Jesus,” he said, flopping back on the sofa and sighing heavily. “That was way more intense than the last one we watched!”
“I know, right?” said Nick, leaning back too and looking over at Charlie. “Like you said, it’s different when you know people on the pitch. I always get so riled up after a match like that - it was worse when I played of course, but even now, I have to like…come down after an intense fixture like that.”
“I get that now.” Charlie rubbed at his chest, making Nick snort. “I have to get up early tomorrow to leave since I’m doing that brunch with Elle and Tao and a few friends tomorrow, but I feel like there’s no way I can go to bed right now.”
Nick heaved himself up and went over to the cabinet under the TV, opening it and gesturing grandly like he was revealing a grand wine cellar. “Can I interest you in a mental cool-down with one of Sarah Nelson’s VHS classics?”
Charlie’s eyes widened and he immediately got up to join Nick. “Uh, yes please.”
Nick extended his arm and pushed it against Charlie’s chest like he was holding him back. “Get ready,” he warned, Charlie shaking his head and laughing. “This is like the Library of Alexandria…if the Library of Alexandria specialised in films that were produced before 2002.”
Charlie picked up a copy of Batman & Robin and swirled it in front of his nose like a fine wine. “Ah, yes - this one is giving me light hints of nipples-on-Batman costume, with a slight aftertaste of gay Robin?”
Nick laughed loudly, selecting another and handing it to him. “And this?”
Charlie nodded approvingly. “This is a vintage John Travolta, I believe. Yes, looking at the label, I can see this is Face/Off, which some experts actually contend was a medical documentary instead of a fictional piece. I believe this came from 1997, a truly excellent year for films.”
Nick was openly giggling and the sound was absolutely fantastic. “All right, as the VHS sommelier,” Nick said. “I trust you entirely to select a film that pairs perfectly with the open bag of chocolate chips I have downstairs.”
Charlie tapped a finger against his chin, pretending to muse. “Yes, let’s see. What pairs well with chocolate…ah, yes. The chef recommends Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze.” He held up the VHS copy and opened it to display the tape in its box at Nick. “This is our 1991, sir. It has been aged in this non-biodegradable polymer vessel for your viewing pleasure.”
Nick took the box and gave the tape a long, appreciative sniff, making Charlie grin. “Ah, yes, this will do quite nicely, thank you.”
“Very well, sir,” said Charlie, his whole body glowing. Nick was so much fun. It sounded stupid to say, but in all of Charlie’s bullets so far he hadn’t yet written down his desire for a partner who was authentically fun like Nick was. He and Nick set up the TV and got some snacks, Nick sprinkling tiny chocolate chips into popcorn. Charlie kind of loved and kind of hated it at the same time, but couldn’t stop eating it regardless. As they settled down on the sofa, Nick pulled out an enormous blanket, spreading it over the two of them with the popcorn between them. They were technically sharing a blanket, and Charlie felt his dumb little sultana heart keen at the thought. It’s not actually sharing a blanket, he scolded his heart. Not the way I want to at least.
They chatted through the first half of the film, laughing both at how dated it was and even at some of the jokes, too. Charlie had become infamous with Elle and Tao for his film-induced narcolepsy, though (something that came in massively helpful during Tao’s worst picks). Charlie could feel his eyelids grow heavier and heavier and settled back into the sofa, the warmth of the blanket and Nick’s presence sliding him into an easy sleep.
The next thing he knew, the end-credits music was playing - Go ninja, go ninja, go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Charlie blinked and stretched, looking sheepishly at Nick. “Sorry,” he mumbled, yawning. “I guess I missed some of the greatest cinematic accomplishment of the 20th century.”
Nick’s grin looked a little different, but maybe Charlie was just still sleepy. “Yeah.” He shook his head at Charlie. “And now you’ll never, ever know how it ends.”
Charlie’s laugh interrupted his yawn. “You’re right. Too bad there are no centrally-shared informational pages that are publicly available using a tiny pocket computer that could ever help me find the plot.”
Nick laughed lightly and got up to rewind the tape. Charlie felt slow and oozy, entirely unwilling to leave the blessedly warm cocoon of blankets. He wrapped it around him like a hooded robe instead and got up, trailing the long end of the blanket behind him. It was already eleven, and Charlie sighed. He wanted to see Elle and Tao of course, but the idea of missing a full day of Nick tomorrow made him want to burrow even deeper into his blanket cave. “I wish I didn’t have to go so early tomorrow.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go, either,” Nick echoed. He got up and faced Charlie, his eyes trailing over the blanket and then back to Charlie’s face. Nick smiled softly and Charlie felt his heart twinge. Nick, looking at him like that. God. If Nick just knew what that did to Charlie’s heart. Charlie looked away, then back again. Nick still had that gentle smile on his face.
“What?” asked Charlie, tilting his head and grinning back. It was impossible to not smile back at Nick.
“Nothing,” said Nick. There was a tiny pause. “You look so cuddly like that.”
Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together. Had Nick just said - wait, what? Cuddly? Do rugby lads call each other cuddly? Is this just a Danny Turner thing? Doesn’t cuddly imply cuddling? Would Nick - Nick wasn’t saying… Charlie looked back at Nick, utterly confused. “Really?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, looking at Charlie and nodding, like he was confirming it himself. Then he was hugging Charlie. Charlie felt himself stiffen a little in surprise, especially when Nick moved his arms so that it felt like he was holding Charlie. Actually holding Charlie. Nick’s arms were pulling him close and Charlie’s mind was reeling. Cuddly? He hesitated, and then reached his arms around Nick, wrapping around Nick’s torso and pressing against Nick’s back. Charlie had no idea how much time had gone by. Ten seconds? A minute? Seven hours? It was like time had frozen, the world holding its breath. Charlie never wanted time to start again. He was being held. Held like he’d always wanted to be. Charlie had no idea why he was being held - cuddly?! - but at the moment, he didn’t care. Charlie let himself fully melt into the embrace. Nick was holding Charlie in his arms, their bodies tangled together. To his horror, Charlie felt a swell of heat behind his eyes, the hot onslaught of tears threatening to rise up. This felt so good.
Years before Charlie was ready, Nick let him go and stepped back, Charlie pulling his arms away to let Nick move. Nick gave a quick grin, looking more at the floor than at Charlie. “Okay, well - goodnight.” With that, Nick turned and made his way out of the living room, leaving Charlie and his blanket behind, utterly stupefied.
What…
What the fuck had just happened?
Notes:
Next week is a Danny and James week, then two Lavender Fields weeks in a row!
I just made this one the other night - it's an Ina Garten recipe that I LOVE. *If you can't grow, harvest, and squish your own olives to make olive oil, store-bought is fine*. I used the leftover sauce as the base for a pasta sauce the next night and it was doubly delicious!
Ina's Lemon Chicken
¼ cup olive oil
3 tablespoons minced garlic, 8-9 cloves (yes, my hands were VERY garlicky afterwards)
⅓ cup dry white wine
1 tablespoon lemon zest (from ~2 lemons)
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice, about 1 lemon
1 ½ teaspoons dried oregano
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (I used dried and it was fine)
Salt and pepper to taste
4 boneless, skin-on chicken breasts, 4 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs, or 2 skin-on half chickens (I used thighs)
Slices of lemon, from remaining lemon after zestingPreheat the oven to 400°F.
In a small saucepan, warm the oil over low heat. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant. Do not let the garlic brown. Remove from heat.
In a small bowl, stir together the wine, lemon zest and juice, oregano, and thyme. Whisk the wine mixture into the warm oil. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
In an oven safe-baking dish, pour in about half of the wine and oil mixture. Place the chicken over the sauce, skin side up. Tuck the lemon slices under the chicken skin. Season the skin with salt and pepper. Pour the remaining wine and oil mixture over the chicken. Bake until the juice from inside the chicken is no longer pink. If the skin has not browned, place the dish under the broiler for 1-2 minutes. Cover the chicken with aluminum foil and allow to rest for 10 minutes before serving.
Chapter 41: Charlie's POV: Process
Summary:
Nick is very confused. Charlie is very confused. We are very exasperated.
Notes:
Linda Everton HR note: 4 April, 2024
Concerning: waveofyou and NellieSayzBork
Notes:
Both Wavey and NSB continue to be adorable menaces. Science fears for molecular fortitude, as both of them are melt-inducing.
Action:
No possible treatment. Stick close to university science labs in case atoms spontaneously dissemble based on their wonderfulness.
SPEAKING of wonderfulness, benwvatt made this absolutely jaw-dropping collection of Mood Boards for Lavender Fields - *and* made them accessible with image descriptions, too. The amount of care and nuance is so, so amazing! Thank you, wonderful friend, these are truly GORGEOUS.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
What the fuck had that been?
Charlie didn’t know how many iterations of that thought had gone through his mind since last night. Alone in his car with Amy’s amazing Spotify list playing in the background, Charlie went over it again and again in his head.
Nick, looking at him softly, his brown eyes unreadably expressive.
You look so cuddly like that.
Nick, wrapping his arms around Charlie and keeping his arms there.
Nick, holding Charlie.
Nick and Charlie, the bodies pressed together, heads so close that Charlie could smell the intoxicating scent of whatever shampoo was lucky enough to pass through Nick Nelson’s perfect hair.
Charlie had played it over in his brain nonstop since the hug had happened, his mind continually turning over as he lay in bed the same night. Charlie had been on his stomach, clutching a pillow and pretending it was Nick. He’d gotten next to no sleep that night, thoughts chasing themselves around and mercifully disappearing only to pop up in another part of his brain. Charlie had tried to make sense of it. He’d tried to think of other experiences that he’d had with other straight male friends, but the hug with Nick had just felt so different.
Hug wasn’t even the right word for it; it was an embrace. It was a long, warm, tender embrace. Well, at least it was in Charlie’s mind. That was the crux of what he had been thinking about all night and into this morning, that whatever Charlie had experienced was only in his mind. What was Nick thinking about after that hug? Was Nick even thinking about it like Charlie was? What had made him want to give Charlie an embrace like that? Never had Charlie been so desperate to know what might have been going on in Nick’s head.
Charlie had stumbled downstairs after his sleepless night, eyes feeling heavy and tired. He had been both anxious and relieved to see Nick, though they’d only had a brief moment before Charlie had to leave. Nick had looked tired as well, but had still told Charlie to drive safe and had given him a hug, though it was maybe a hundredth as long as the one had been the night before. Speaking of the night before…
Seriously, what the fuck had that been?
It was amazing, yes. But what else was it? Cuddly… Who says cuddly? What kind of straight man says, “You look cuddly,” and then essentially snuggled in vertical format with another man for five minutes?
Did straight men do that?
Could Nick be…
No. No, get it together, Charlie. Charlie had been suppressing that wondering for months, so his heart was hammering at that deliciously tantalising line of thinking. Charlie caught himself and re-suppressed it. Nick was straight. Nick dated women. Maybe this was just how Nick was with his friends? Nick was friends with Danny, after all. Even in the brief time that Charlie had spent with Danny, Charlie saw how physically affectionate Danny was, even with the other lads. Maybe Nick had just gotten used to that. Maybe this was how Nick was with his mates.
Did Nick cuddle his mates?
Charlie huffed out a loud exhale as he drove, mind turning over faster than his tyres. The most likely explanation was a combination of things. It was a combination of Nick maybe being lonely now that his friends were gone, and maybe both Nick and Charlie being tired. That might have been it. Nick may have been sleepy and melty and just kind of…fallen into the hug with Charlie. Charlie sighed, thinking of what it had felt like.
Being in Nick’s arms like that – god.
Charlie had been so perplexed and taken aback that he had only started to settle into how gorgeous it felt when it was over. The night before, laying sleepless in bed, Charlie had wrapped his arms around himself, trying to imitate the feeling of Nick’s embrace again. Charlie wished he could go back. He wished he could be hugging Nick again, drinking in the mind-melting feeling of Nick’s body against his. Charlie also wished he could have looked at Nick’s face clearly, searched his beautiful features for what might have been going on in his head. Charlie had been so wrapped up in his own surprise that he hadn’t been to scrutinise Nick’s face, instead inventing a hundred thoughts that he imagined might have been in Nick’s head. Well, it was that and the fact that Nick had hustled away immediately after. Charlie frowned, remembering that. He hadn’t invented that, had he? Nick had almost literally ran away. Why had he done that? Maybe he was tired. Or maybe he was embarrassed that he’d shown Charlie this new side of him, the more affectionate one that normally only his close friends got to see.
Yes, it was most likely that this was just another part of Nick. Another unattainable, unreasonably-perfect part of Nick. Nick Nelson, who Charlie had tried to detail in a hundred bullet points but knew he’d never be able to capture in words. The magic of who Nick was felt impossible to put down on a page. There were so many things that Charlie could list out, but what made Nick so soul-achingly perfect was who he was. What he did. Charlie’s crush on Nick was made up of hundreds of moments, instances and experiences that the two of them had together. There were the tiny memories made in the kitchen, Nick involving Charlie and making him feel completely at home. There were the hours that they spent in front of the TV, Charlie furrowing his brow and making Nick explain some rugby rule yet again, Nick always laughing and never irritated with Charlie. And the moments in the barn, too, taking care of the cow together and watching how strong and tender Nick was at the same time. Nick watching him play the drums, his eyes glittering…
The drums. Charlie tapped his index finger mindlessly on the steering wheel as he drove, lips pursed. Charlie thought back to his Googling and the results that had popped up around the drumset. Had Nick…
No.
No, Nick had to have found them. Nick had mentioned that people in town knew that Sarah had storage in her barn. Maybe there was some rich man in town that had bought drums and whose partner had said that they couldn’t keep them at their house and had asked Nick’s mum to hold onto them. Without Sarah there, there was really no way to check. Nick had to have found them. There was no way Nick had bought them for Charlie. That would be absurd – beyond absurd. That would be ludicrous and completely over the top.
Despite himself and the questions snapping around his mind, Charlie had to grin to himself. That would be so massively over the top, but not in a bad way. More a confusing way. Charlie smiled again as he let himself imagine what it would be like in an amazing, Hallmark-Christmas-movie fantasy world where Nick had bought drums for him.
Charli let his mind drift. What would that mean, if a fantasy Nick had bought fantasy drums for him? Well, it would mean that Nick would have pretended that he found the drums. It would also likely mean that Nick had, like – done something to the drums to make them look more weathered? Even imagining that put a pleasantly squirmy feeling in Charlie’s stomach – picturing an earnest Nick rolling drums across the floor of the barn to make them look more used. If someone had actually done something like that, they’d have to be either the weirdest human alive, or…
Or they would have some other reason to do that.
What had that hug meant? Nothing, right? Charlie had already decided on this. He had decided that the hug was just a combination of things – of Nick being Nick and tiredness and affection and all of that. Yet he felt his mind, tugging irresistibly again towards one of the other pathways in his brain, the one that lured him with the tantalising possibility of what if.
Charlie was still spinning as he drove to the car park where he stored his Golf and then got on the tube to go to Elle and Tao’s. Once seated, he took out his journal. Bullets, Charlie, bullets. He took a deep breath and uncapped his pen, biting his lower lip and staring at the page. Charlie knew he needed to organise his thoughts and start to give some sense of order from the hurricane of swirling wonders coursing around his head.
Confusing Things about The Hug™, Charlie wrote, marking the first bullet underneath the headlined title.
- It lasted for a very long time
- Nick’s actual hands were on my back and not just, like, closed fists
- It lasted for a very very long time
- Nick sprinted away like he was in the Olympics afterwards
Charlie tapped the end of his pen against his lips and then started a new list underneath the first one.
Things I Know About Nick
- He is straight
Charlie wrote that, then stared at the page. The tube had jolted as he wrote, leaving a smudge on the “g” in the word straight. Charlie looked at the letters, black ink against a cream-coloured journal page. There it was, in almost literal black and white. Nick was straight. Nick was straight.
Was Nick straight?
Charlie felt his heart fluttering, threatening to rise up again with the naive and wild hope of an unrequited queer crush. Was Nick straight? He had only talked about dating women, of course. Charlie frowned and went back to his journal.
Thing I Know About Nick
He is straight- He has dated women before
Charlie stared at those words now, the questions and wonders tumbling over each other in his mind. Charlie blinked, realising that the two bullets were entirely different. Nick had dated women before, he knew that. He spoke of his ex – what was it…Marta? Something like that. Nick had dated women. Would…Charlie felt his breath quicken in his chest, cursing the bubbling, dumb keening in his heart. Would Nick ever date a man? Bi people exist, Charlie reminded himself, nodding at his own thought. Though that would be luck beyond luck to meet someone as massively wonderful as Nick and have him be attracted to men as well. Though if Nick had bought Charlie a drum set (which he hadn’t), it did raise the question…
Was Nick straight?
If he wasn’t (which he was)…would someone like Nick ever date a man?
Would someone like Nick ever date… Charlie?
-
“What does it mean when a boy hugs you for, like, five minutes?” Charlie asked, the question coming out more like a demand than he meant for it to.
Elle looked up from her Turkish takeaway Charlie had picked up for the three of them on Sunday evening. They’d had a lovely day, brunching with friends and then walking around a museum in London, enjoying coffees on the unseasonably sunny day. “I would assume it means he likes you,” Elle said, tilting her head curiously at Charlie.
Charlie hesitated. “What if it’s Nick Nelson?”
Tao rolled his eyes. “Then I would assume it means that his mates put him up to it.”
Elle hit him on the arm and Tao protested. “Tao!”
Charlie frowned. “He’s not like that.”
“I know,” said Tao, his expression softening a little at Charlie’s face. Charlie had been very intentional to not bring Nick up constantly so far that day, knowing that it probably made Tao a little jealous, and had the propensity to make Tao scoff at him. “But I don’t want you to get hurt, Charlie.”
“I won’t,” Charlie mumbled, looking down at his rice. He glanced up to see Elle and Tao exchange a quick look before Tao looked at him once again, the unspoken words hanging there. But you did. You did get hurt by someone.
Elle cleared her throat. “Tell us what happened?”
Charlie put down his food and sighed. He told Elle and Tao all about the weekend – about the drum set that Nick had… found and about the trip into town. Charlie told them about the evening with Nick, too – the night that they had spent watching a film. Well, he told them a bit about that night. Charlie told them about the hug, but he didn’t tell them about the conversations and joking and silliness. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but it felt almost – that night felt almost sacred. It had been a night for just Nick and Charlie, and Charlie felt weirdly shy to tell someone else about it, like he was betraying Nick’s confidence. Instead, Charlie told them he and Nick had watched a film, then told them about the embrace.
Charlie finished and looked over at Tao, whose brow was furrowed. “Well, you said his mates are a really affectionate bunch, right?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, thinking back to when they had all taken a walk and Danny had playfully taken his hand, dragging Charlie along and making him skip with him.
“Well then that must be it,” said Tao, nearly echoing the voice that had spoken firmly in Charlie’s head in the car, confirming the bitter truth.
“It must be,” Charlie said back hollowly, picking his food back up and poking at a piece of chicken.
“Yes,” said Elle, her eyes still on Charlie. She didn’t sound convinced. “Maybe it was that.”
Charlie nodded, then shifted the conversation to a film trailer he’d recently seen, knowing that it would provide irresistible bait for Tao. He let Tao chatter away, nodding and making appropriately-timed sounds in response to the diatribe that Tao had embarked upon. Nick was just affectionate. Nick just had affectionate mates. Charlie knew that that was all the embrace was. As confusing as it had been, it was just a result of an affectionate man giving his new mate a hug. That was it.
What Charlie had no confusion about was just how much he wanted it to happen again.
-
Tuesday mornings were a little harried now that Charlie was commuting to Lavender Fields. He had to gather the clothes and things he needed for the week and bring all of them to work so he could take the tube to his car and then make his way to the inn. Charlie could have gone back to Elle and Tao’s to make it easier…but he really didn’t want to. Not because of Elle and Tao, but because Charlie’s shrivelled prune of a heart just wanted to get to Nick as soon as possible. Nick, with his smiles and his kindness and his baking. Nick, with his perfect hair and his jokes. Nick, who had held Charlie in his arms in one of the most delicious sensations Charlie had experienced. Nick, who Charlie was only staying two more weeks with.
Two more weeks. The words echoed around in his head, reminding Charlie of just how little time he had left at Lavender Fields. A month had felt like aeons when he had first asked Nick about it, a nearly immeasurably long time. Now it meant that Charlie would only drive to the farmhouse two more times before he left it forever. Charlie…well, he didn’t like to think about that. So instead he tried to focus on the fact that he only had to make it through one more day of work before he’d see Nick again. Warm, welcoming Nick.
Thinking of Nick, Charlie paused in the hustle of the morning, both Elle and Tao moving around the kitchen getting ready for the day. “Hey – so, Nick invited the two of you to come back up before I leave. I think there’s only this weekend and next before…” Before I leave Lavender Fields forever. “...Before I have to take off from there. Do you think you’d want to go back up?”
Elle beamed from the kitchen, calling out as she dried her hands on a towel. “Oh, I’d love to go back there! It was so nice to get out of London for a weekend.” She came out of the kitchen, pulling on her coat. “That’s really nice of Nick to offer.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, a fond smile fighting its way across his cheeks as he remembered Nick joking that they’d make Tao watch the films his mum owned on VHS to torture Tao. “It is really nice.”
“Well, I’d love to,” said Elle. “I think this weekend is too busy but next weekend is pretty light. Tao, what do you think?”
“Mm,” said Tao, sliding his eyes at Charlie and then back at Elle. “Yeah. I could take some shots of the cows. Living subjects for my portfolio.”
“Yes, for your portfolio,” said Elle, rolling her eyes fondly as she headed towards the door. “Count us in!” She paused at the threshold, fingers tapping on the doorframe. Her rings made a sharp, metallic series of clicks. “Charlie…” He looked up and saw Elle with a conflicted expression on her face. “I wanted to give you a heads’ up. Darcy is hell-bent on setting you up with one of her friends this weekend, some guy who lives kind of by Lavender Fields.”
Charlie felt his stomach drop. “I’m not ready to date,” he said automatically.
“That’s what I told her I assumed,” Elle responded, shaking her head. “But you know Darce. She said, and I quote, that ‘the only way to get over someone is to get under someone.’” Tao snorted and Charlie did too, despite himself. Elle grinned at their responses, and then sobered a bit. “I just…I wanted to let you know she was going to try and I told her that you might say no and she had to be okay with that.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, brain feeling a little fuzzy in his surprise. “Thanks. I appreciate you warning me. You and I both know that Darcy is basically the reason they had us go to those assemblies about resisting peer pressure.”
Elle laughed and nodded. “Exactly. Gotta run. Love you both!”
Charlie followed her out of the door soon after, Tao sitting down at his computer to do some editing. Charlie smiled to himself when he saw Tao pull up a picture of Lavender Fields and mutter something about the light, one that he must have taken when he and Elle had come to visit Charlie.
On the tube, Charlie found his mind turning in circles again, this time alternating between The Hug™ and now a potential date. Charlie told Elle he wasn’t ready to date because that was definitely the logical and correct answer. He wasn’t ready to date. It had only been two weeks since he had walked out of the flat and left Ben behind. That was quite clearly too soon to date. Though to be fair, it had actually been more like two months. It was a full two months ago that Ben had ended the engagement. Charlie hadn’t even seen Ben during that time, not before he showed back up at the flat with the homecoming equivalent of a “u up?” message.
Two months was still too soon, Charlie knew. Yet his mind drifted back to the weeks and months before the wedding. Charlie had been pressing forward, immersing himself in details and logistics and planning, checking item after item off to get ready for the big day. Charlie had been massively, intensely busy. He’d often work a full day and then spend several hours on wedding planning, falling into bed exhausted and essentially passing out. He’d go and work and push and stay busy, because Charlie knew that in the quiet moments before he fell asleep, he’d feel flutters of what he assumed was some latent anxiety. Charlie had written it off, telling himself that it was nerves that he hadn’t booked something that they needed for the wedding or that something might go wrong. When Charlie wasn’t busy, wasn’t going, his mind would spin and tug, cold dread seeping through his body.
Now, Charlie could finally recognise that the weeks and months before the wedding had felt colder, longer, harder. They had felt like they were dragging along, his chest feeling tighter every day. And Charlie could also now see that it hadn’t been anxiety, or at least anxiety about the wedding. It had been anxiety about the marriage. It had been the creeping realisation that Charlie was marrying someone unkind and that for the rest of his relationship, Charlie would be tethered to someone who thought they were better than him. He would be married to a person who wanted Charlie to know how lucky he was to end up with them. Charlie would never have been an equal. Charlie would have been a less-than.
So, yes. Maybe his relationship had been over a lot sooner than Charlie had thought.
That didn’t explain the sick feeling of dread that had dropped his stomach between his knees when Elle mentioned the date that Darcy wanted to set him up on. Charlie tried to imagine going to dinner, sitting across from some faceless man. He tried to picture what it would be like to go on a date with a stranger, one who met all of his bullet points. Charlie closed his eyes as the car on the tube swayed, the babble of people around him sounding like he was at a restaurant. Charlie tried to visualise what it would look and feel like to be sitting across from a date. Charlie felt the pit in his stomach dissolve and evaporate as the stranger turned into Nick. Nick, sitting across from him. Nick, smiling his crooked half-smile at Charlie. Nick, laying his hand gently on top of Charlie’s.
Maybe Charlie wasn’t ready to go on a date. Or maybe, Charlie just wasn’t ready to imagine going on a date with anyone other than Nick Nelson.
-
That morning at work, Charlie saw a call from the leasing office of his new flat pop up on his phone. He looked at it while he was in a meeting, his heart sinking as the phone buzzed. His flat must be ready. Charlie felt a small knot of panic tangle inside his chest, hot and tight. If the flat was done early, would Charlie even get to spend another week at Lavender Fields? No, right? If Charlie’s flat was ready, he needed to get his things from the inn and then head to London. It would be just weird to stay there when he had a full, inhabitable flat. Charlie had taken for granted that he’d have two more weeks at Lavender Fields. Two more weeks with Nick. What happened…what happened after he had his own flat again? Would he see Nick?
Stuck in the meeting, Charlie tried desperately to scrounge up some excitement, thinking of finally getting his things out of storage and organising his flat the way he wanted without anyone telling him he had terrible taste or no sense of style. He tried to breathe and distract himself during the meeting, nodding appropriately while cataloguing the furniture he had stored away in his unit. Even his most dedicated avoidance couldn’t keep the anxiety at bay, though, and Charlie felt sick as the meeting dragged on. Was this it? Was he about to lose two weeks that he thought he’d get to have?
After his meeting, Charlie slipped away down the hallway to listen to the voicemail, heart throwing itself against his ribs. He held the phone to his ear, noticing that his hand was trembling. With shallow breath, Charlie pressed play on the voicemail.
“Hello, Charlie, this is Evan from the leasing office. We were calling with some bad news – the contractor is a bit behind.” Behind! God, Charlie loved whatever logistical, motivational, and/or resourcing issues had befallen his soon-to-be-home. “We wanted to let you know as soon as possible so that you could hopefully find an extension on whatever housing situation you’re utilising at the moment. We’ll continue to defer your rent as long as the work continues in the flat, so no worries there. Again, terribly sorry for the bad news, give us a ring and we’ll tell you more about what’s going on. All right, cheers.”
Charlie drew the phone away from his ear with a massive grin on his face. Not only did he still get his two weeks with Nick, Charlie got another week at Lavender Fields as well. It was like being granted a respite from a prison sentence, a respite with really buff arms and an arse that Charlie bet he could bounce a coin off of. Another week. Another week!
Oh. Another week. Would…would Nick be okay with Charlie staying another week? Charlie felt another swoop in his stomach, his poor organ having really gone through the wringer in the few hours since he’d woken up. Here was Charlie, blithely assuming so many things about Nick. He felt another disquieting lurch, thinking about all of the nonsense he’d imagined about Nick in the last few days. Charlie had gone beyond making assumptions about his friendship with Nick; Charlie had even started to wonder about Nick and if he’d ever see Charlie as…
Charlie shook his head, dismissing the thought. He’d been playing up endless fantasies in his head. The reality might have been that he and Nick were friends, but the reality was also that Charlie was a tenant for Nick, too. A tenant in a working bed and breakfast, occupying one of the rooms. Charlie took out his phone, the ill feeling sitting high in his stomach. He opened his thread with Nick and hovered over the keyboard, anxiety fluttering around his chest like dry leaves. Charlie took a breath and started typing.
cfspring: hi
Charlie paused before messaging again. He had appreciated Elle’s head’s up about Darcy’s date she wanted to set up for Charlie, and Charlie was endlessly grateful that he’d be able to plan how to let Darcy down gently. Nick deserved the same chance.
cfspring: okay, so let’s talk more about this when I get there tonight, but i wanted to give you a heads up
cfspring: i spoke to the flat people and it’s another week at least of work
Did he leave it at that? Put the ball in Nick’s…pitch? Field? Court? Whatever. A huge part of Charlie wanted to leave it there and let Nick decide what to say next. Nick could invite him to stay, or Nick could stay silent and let Charlie dangle and wonder, spinning in endless loops of anxiety. Charlie felt his stomach twist at the thought, remembering so many of those nights with Ben. He remembered the way Ben would leave him on read and not respond, not unless Charlie asked a direct question. Then Charlie would see him and Ben would just wait, forcing Charlie to bring whatever it was up again, Ben crossing his arms and making Charlie feel an inch tall.
Charlie closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to take steadying breaths. Nick wasn’t like Ben. Nick wasn’t going to let the message hang there in the air without an answer. Nick wouldn’t do that, but Charlie also didn’t need to let Nick decide. Charlie could ask. He could ask for what he wanted. Charlie forced his eyes open and typed quickly, sending the message before he could talk himself out of it.
cfspring: so is it okay if I stay another week? and SERIOUSLY nick
cfspring: you know it’s serious because i used capital letters
Even with the nerves still jangling in his chest, Charlie smiled at that a little. Nick had gently poked fun at Charlie the week before, asking with mock-sincerity if Charlie's shift key was broken and offering to take his phone to the genius bar at the Apple store.
He looked at the message, doubt suddenly clouding his mind. Maybe it would sound too playful with the joke he had just made. Maybe that would make it sound like Charlie really expected Nick to say yes, so much that he was making casual jokes. Heart speeding back up, Charlie cursed himself and the message he had just sent, then fired off a few more quick messages, needing Nick to know that he wasn’t obliged to keep caretaking Charlie.
cfspring: let me know if that if too long or too much, i know i have already been there so much longer than you thought i was going to be originally
cfspring: i wanted to let you know ahead of time so you can think of a polite way to say no and not have to think of one on the spot when im there in person haha
Charlie locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, feeling his heart beating rapidly in his chest. There. He had done it. He had messaged Nick and now it was time to wait. Charlie made his way back to his desk, pulling his phone out every few steps, the brush of his trousers leg against each other making him think that his phone was buzzing over and over. At his desk, Charlie pretended to work, though in reality he was just dawdling, palms increasingly sweaty as he waited for Nick to message back. Nick always messaged back, usually within a few minutes unless he was doing chores. And it wasn’t really chore time, either.
Charlie felt his anxiety rising as he waited, bouncing from tab to tab on his computer screen without really reading anything. He walked over to Anita’s desk and had a distracted conversation with her, convinced that the same magic that sometimes made food appear at a restaurant would work and he would come back to a thousand messages from Nick, each one professing his love and an invitation for Charlie to both stay and move into his bedroom. When he got back to a blank screen, Charlie shoved his phone to the side and laid his head on his desk, taking advantage of the large plant between him and his cubicle-mate to shroud his misery in leafy shame.
He audibly yelped when his phone buzzed, the wood vibrating underneath his ear. Charlie picked up his phone with shaky hands and saw the message from Nick, the text filling up the preview screen and even running beyond it. Heart hammering, Charlie read it at speed, his whole body relaxing and melting as he got past the first sentence.
LF Nick: I don’t know, Charlie, you’ve been SO much trouble staying at LF. Nellie was just complaining that she’s getting TOO many ear-scratches and the portrait people were saying that your soul wasn’t quite the right shape for possessing. I take their feedback seriously.
Charlie laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over his mouth. He felt weak with relief. Nick had responded. Nick had responded, and made a joke, and been sweet, and talked about the cows, and terrified him about portrait people all in one message. It was welcoming. It was funny. It was kind. It was quintessentially Nick. Charlie picked his phone up and looked at the message again like he was admiring a gemstone, shining and perfect. Charlie could feel the smile, stretching across his cheeks and distorting his features with its width. God, Nick was so wonderful and silly. Charlie leaned into it, focusing on the horrifying part of the message first.
cfspring: omg never mind i will stay in the barn if the portraits have been discussing the dimensions of my soul
cfspring: if they’re talking about possession, they’re planning possession. this isn’t like when girls say that they might get bangs someday
LF Nick: LOL
LF Nick: Of course you can stay
Charlie was glowing now. Floating. He held his phone to his chest with both hands like it was something precious, marvelling at the perfect way Nick messaged. It was just as happy and open as Nick was in person, a mixture of kindness and gentle humour. Charlie let out a tiny sigh of happy comfort, taking in Nick’s “Ha-Ha” and ❤️ reactions to his messages. His phone buzzed again and Charlie looked at it, a few more messages coming in.
LF Nick: Honestly
LF Nick: It’s literally no trouble at all – it’s the quiet season and it’s nice to have you around!
Charlie rested his chin on his hand and looked down at his phone. He frowned a little, a deep and nagging urge welling up. Was it really okay that he was staying? Was Nick just saying that? Was Nick just tolerating him, like Ben did? Charlie tapped out a message, hitting send before he could think about it too much.
cfspring: and you’re definitely not just saying that?
Charlie looked at his message, the insecurity standing out among the jokes between the two of them. Charlie took a deep breath and suppressed the anxiety that was threatening to rise up, soothing and smoothing it back down. He wrote another message, the grin returning to his face as he imagined what Nick would have said if Charlie was in person.
cfspring: uuuuugh i know blah blah blah look at me i’m nick no im not just saying that don’t talk to my friend charlie like that blah blah blah 🙄🙄🙄
LF Nick: Legit LOL
LF Nick: …
LF Nick: (But don’t talk about my friend Charlie like that)
Charlie laughed aloud again and then looked around, sinking down in his chair and smiling widely.
cfspring: 🙄🙄🙄
LF Nick: Haha. No, seriously. And I know repair work and stuff can often go way longer than they originally say, so let’s put this in writing now – you’re welcome to stay as long as the work takes. So don’t ask again, okay? Or else I am raising the pun laugh tax to three times per day.
“Let’s put this in writing” – god, Nick was so adorable. So, so adorable. And also – his threats were even so perfectly Nick. God, Charlie was disgustingly, completely, spine-dissolvingly head-over-heels in like with Nick Nelson.
cfspring: 🫨 you wouldn’t
LF Nick: Don’t test me.
cfspring: lol
cfspring: okay
cfspring: god, nick, thank you so much
Charlie glanced at the clock, homophobically ticking on towards his next meeting. Though then again, it was also ticking on towards when he’d get to leave the office and very homophilically get to see and hopefully hug Nick again. It was a tradeoff.
cfspring: i need to get back to work but i do really, really appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me. ♥️
Charlie added the heart to the end of the message, then erased it. He waited for a moment, then added it back in. The little red shape felt like it was dancing and Charlie’s thumb hovered over the delete key. Fuck it. Charlie sent the message and let out a breath, telling Nick he’d see him soon and then stowing his phone in his pocket.
Charlie was so excited to see Nick.
-
Charlie was nearly bouncing in his seat as he drove to Lavender Field, buzzing with energy. He was going to see Nick again. He was going to stay, too, now for a full extra week. That was an extra week of cows, baking, cooking, talking, and, of course, of Nick. Charlie called a few people as he drove, chatting quickly with Tori and letting her know about the work on his flat being extended. She was characteristically arch in her replies, asking if Charlie had somehow sabotaged the tools that the contractor had in a bid to extend his stay. Charlie had snorted. Of course Tori knew that he fancied Nick. Tori always knew.
Charlie called Amy, too, the two of them chatting for a bit. That had become a bit of a regular occurrence, Charlie often calling on Sundays when he left Lavender Fields. Talking to Amy had been massively helpful for Charlie over the last few weeks. She was a fantastically strong, vibrant, and intelligent woman, and she had gone through something similar to him with her ex. There was an odd cold comfort in that, and Amy was open and happy to talk about her own healing. Their conversation this week didn’t last long, as Amy said she was exhausted from a full night of boning the evening before. Charlie laughed and said it would be a shame if she didn’t get more rest. Amy laughed loudly and said it sure would be. Before ringing off, Charlie thought of asking Amy more about the hug, to see if he was right that this was just a ‘Nick’ thing to do. The words were hovering on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back, remembering that Amy was Nick’s friend and her allegiance was to him first over Charlie. Instead, he just wished Amy a happy evening and promised that he’d make it to a London-based Badgers match at some point so the two of them could go again. He drove on with a grin on his face, every turn of his tyres bringing him closer to the place where he wanted to be.
Charlie pulled into the car park perhaps a little faster than he should have, his eagerness getting the better of him. Once the car was in park, he felt a tiny stab of nerves prickling the underside of his stomach. Would Nick feel weird after what happened last time? No – right? No, Nick’s messages had been normal. Nick wasn’t going to feel odd. Nick wasn’t going to make up for his extra gentleness on Sunday by acting colder when Charlie saw him today. Nick…he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like Ben.
As soon as Charlie looked in the rearview mirror towards the house, all anxieties melted away. Nick was off the porch and making his way towards Charlie’s car before his door even fully swung open. They met in the middle of the carpark and Nick wrapped Charlie in a hug, Charlie returning it the way he wished he had immediately on Saturday night. He closed his eyes and drank in the warm firmness of Nick’s body. One… two… three… four… oh. Oh, it was over now. Charlie stepped back and didn’t protest when Nick took his bag, swinging it over his shoulder.
“Easy trip?” Nick asked, smiling at Charlie as they walked into the house. There was nothing in Nick’s eyes that hinted at regret or embarrassment at what had happened last weekend. In fact, Nick seemed – well, Charlie didn’t actually know. There was just something about him, something settled and grounded.
“Easy,” Charlie agreed, following Nick into the house.
“Hey, Carolyn and Greg – this is my good friend Charlie, he’ll be here this week as well,” said Nick as they entered, a middle-aged couple sitting in the dining room at the honey-coloured table.
Charlie blinked at the introduction, then smiled and nodded at the couple, who waved back. Good friend. Charlie wasn’t just a friend, he was a good friend. They seemed nice enough, but Charlie had hoped that the downstairs was going to be empty, a space just for him and Nick. He wanted to catch up with Nick, talk. And, oh god – Charlie realised with a sudden cold shock that he also had to ask Nick about Elle and Tao staying. Why had Charlie offered that before asking Nick about it again? That, on top of staying an extra week…Yes, Nick had introduced Charlie as his friend. Good friend. And yes, Nick had said he was welcome to stay – but now Charlie was layering ask upon ask. With a dull swoop, Charlie thought back to the times he had asked Ben for something. He had learned from bitter experience to never ask Ben for a second favour when he had already asked for one or at least to arrange the asks carefully, Ben always letting out that exasperated sigh of how much Charlie was asking for.
Nick kept moving, Charlie’s bag still slung over his shoulder, the strap cutting into his trap and making his neck and shoulders look even bigger than normal. They got up to Charlie’s room and Nick handed Charlie the bag, Charlie’s heart thumping as he thought of how to stack the requests on top of each other in the least intrusive and needy way. Start with you, he reminded himself. Nick already said yes to you. Nick handed Charlie his bag with a grin and then leaned against the doorway, looking horrifically attractive. Charlie literally averted his eyes for a moment before speaking, getting his wits together.
“So,” he said, a grin on his face despite his heart rate speeding up a bit. “Have you thought of a way to ask me not to stay as long since we messaged this morning?”
Nick gave him such a look of fond exasperation that Charlie couldn’t fight back a giggle, only getting worse when Nick rolled his eyes up and kept them there. “Okay, here, does this physical reenactment of the emoji help you answer your own question?”
Charlie laughed and shook his head, knowing the blush was high on his cheeks. Why was Nick so fucking cute? He rolled his eyes and tried to make his voice as joke-y as he could. “Ugh, fine, you rugby bully. I’ll do you the favour of staying and taking advantage of your hospitality at a reduced rate and getting in the way as you try to tend to this legitimate family business.”
Nick gave a tiny shimmy of his shoulders. “Good.”
Charlie snorted and then grinned at Nick for a beat too long, just taking in his open, kind face. Nick was so amazing at making Charlie feel like he was comfortable. At making Charlie feel like he was…wanted. But there was one more thing to ask, and Charlie’s stomach tightened.
Don’t I give you enough?
God, you take and you take; it’s infuriating.
You’re so needy.
You always want too much, Charlie.
Charlie took a breath in and tried to steady himself, attempting a jocular tone again. “And, well – since I’m already asking you for too much.” Charlie gave Nick a quick glance to see his eyebrow furrowed together. Charlie’s hands toyed with his sleeves. “You had mentioned…You had, um, mentioned that it might be okay to invite Elle and Tao up. Would that…still be okay? Not this weekend, but next – for them to stay here? They just really loved it here and I know Elle would love some time away from the city.” Charlie forced himself to look up at Nick, dragging his eyes away from the floor. He was startled by what he found there, Nick looking at him…almost pained? But not at Charlie…It was hard to parse. Charlie felt his heart quicken again. The way Nick was looking at him. It was almost – what was the word? It was…tender.
When Nick spoke, though, his voice was its normal tone, all warmth and welcome. “I’d love for them to come,” said Nick, face easing into his regular smile. “That’ll be brilliant for all of us to be here together again.”
All of us, Charlie marvelled as Nick pulled out his phone, probably to look at reservations. Us. Charlie would melt to be an us with Nick.
“Looks like there’s only two other rooms here that weekend besides yours, so that’s easy,” Nick continued, grinning again and stowing his phone into his back pocket where it sat snuggled against his bum. Lucky fucking phone, Charlie thought despondently.
Charlie felt himself melt at Nick’s smile and nearly heart-breaking kindness. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it. “I know they’ve both talked about coming here again.” Charlie paused, tilting his head back and forth as he considered. “Well, Elle has. Tao just makes some sort of affirmative noise and once mentioned cows, which means he can’t wait to come back.”
Nick laughed. “Ooh, reckon I should mess with him a bit? Pretend you and Elle have some plans together and that I’ve scheduled some ‘hard core bro time’ at the gym where we can eat dry protein powder and talk about our bicep measurements?”
Biceps. Charlie’s mouth went a little dry and he instinctively looked at Nick’s perfect, massive arms. He swallowed and made himself look at Nick, giggling a little at the idea of Tao having a man-to-man lad talk. “Oh my god, yes. I cannot wait to see the look on his face when you say that.”
Nick laughed and shook his head. “As much as I would, too, there is no way I’m tough enough to actually propose that. I feel like that would be one of those adrenaline moments, you know, the ones that, like, mothers can have where they can pick a car up off a baby? He’d literally pick me up and throw me through the wall of the barn.”
Charlie let out a hoot of a laugh, picturing Tao shotputting all fourteen or so stone of heavily muscled Nick. “Yes. Tao, whose arms are basically twigs, is going to throw you through the window and across the street, all…that of you,” said Charlie, gesturing broadly to Nick’s frame.
Nick blushed and laughed. Nick blushed? “Well, regardless. I don’t want to risk damage to life, limb, or property. And honestly, it’s for Tao, too – I don't want him to go to prison and for Nellie and Henry to have to post bale.” Nick raised his eyebrows and looked delighted with himself as Charlie sapped all emotion from his face and shut the door in Nick’s face.
Nick burst out laughing and Charlie joined him, opening the door and grinning widely as he giggled. “Fuck. Well, there’s your one laugh for the night.”
Nick tossed his head, preening. “I’ll take it.” There was a pause, both of them smiling at each other. “I’ll let you get to bed,” said Nick. “I know it’s a long day on Tuesdays with work and the whole drive here.” Nick stood in the doorframe, his eyes lingering on Charlie. Charlie looked back at him, a prickle of electricity shivering down his spine.
Was Nick going to kiss him?
Why the fuck had that popped into his head?! It was wildly irrational and the thought almost made Charlie feel dizzy, it was so stupid. Then Nick stepped back and his face shifted, back to its easy countenance and Charlie felt his stomach shrivelling with embarrassment at how dumb and naive that idea had been. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick,” Charlie echoed, stepping back and closing the door softly. He flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
Why had he thought that? It was so clearly laughable, a quite literally impossible (and sometimes wet, if he was being honest) dream of Charlie’s. Charlie rolled on his side, tucking a pillow under his arm. This was just his pathetic mind inventing things after the hug. This was just Charlie, wanting to see things that he’d never see. Charlie sighed and hugged the pillow closer. It was going to be really fucking hard to get over his crush on Nick Nelson.
-
It didn’t get any easier over the next couple of days, either. Every day just brought more and more bullet points that Charlie added to his journal, his entries now entirely consisting of the things he appreciated and adored about Nick.
- Invites me to go with him literally any time he leaves the house
- Finally allows me to help around the bed and breakfast and makes me feel like a true friend and partner in the work instead of a little kid who just gets in the way
- Comes out to the barn when it’s cold and listens to me play the drums on a set he found for me
May have bought me an eight thousand-quid set of drums????
- Wants to eat meals with me and authentically talk
- Asks me about my family, and asks questions about deeper stuff with them
- Is willing to open up about hard things, like about his family
Every bullet came with a moment and a memory – the trips to town to get groceries, the two of them moving smoothly past each other in the kitchen as Charlie finally helped take care of breakfast. They shared more than breakfast, too – their dinners together turned into talks about their families and understanding each other. Understanding each other – that was what it really felt like. It was beyond just conversation; Charlie felt like their hours-long talks over meals kept shedding more light on the incredible human that Nick Nelson was, and all of the facets that sparkled on him to make him the man Charlie was head over heels for. In the same way, Nick asked about Charlie, too – asking about his family and what it was like to grow up with the parents and siblings he did.
Charlie found himself opening up more to Nick than he had in years of being with Ben. Ben’s questions had been perfunctory, and he’d had a low tolerance for anything that verged on authentic vulnerability. Nick in turn opened up too, telling Charlie about his family – his dad and brother in particular. Charlie felt his heart ache when Nick quietly told him what happened when Danny and James had come out, Charlie physically holding himself back from going and cradling Nick when Nick teared up briefly.
Charlie was laying on his bed on Friday night after another dinner with Nick, reeling from the intensity of his feelings. He liked Nick. He liked Nick so much that it physically hurt. Charlie’s reverie was interrupted when his phone rang, looking down at his phone with slight panic to see the call coming in from Darcy.
“Charlie bear!”
“Hey Darce,” Charlie responded, guessing where this was going.
“You have a date tomorrow night, my guy,” she said, and Charlie could almost see her eyebrows waggling from afar.
Charlie rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in a pillow. “Unless it’s with someone from the cast of Saltburn I’m out.”
Darcy laughed, light and free. “It’s with a hot guy that I worked with on a job recently and you’re going to love him.”
Charlie sighed and rolled onto his back again. “No, I’m not. I’m not even in London.”
“I know!” Darcy replied cheerfully. “He’s in Portsmouth and is a 23 minute drive from you – I just dropped the pin of where you’re meeting him in a message to you. I’ve made the dinner reservation and I’ve – oof, Tara, your elbow is sharp! – and Tara has already paid for the tab. We’ve gone full meddling gay on you, Charlie, desperate times and all that.”
Charlie let out a small laugh despite the hollow feeling in his stomach. He really didn’t fancy going on a date unless it was with a retired rugby captain who could pet his hair and tell Charlie how pretty he was. Darcy had been messaging him all week and he’d been avoiding her, hoping that it would be too late and there would be no chance for a date. He should have known better, Darcy was unstoppable when she put her mind to something. “I…I don’t think I’m ready to go on a date, Darce.”
“And how’ll you get to be ready?” Darcy demanded. “By staying in all the time and never meeting anyone new? Besides that inn guy, I don’t think you’ve met a single new person in months, have you?”
That inn guy. As in, the guy who Charlie thought about nearly every second. The guy who Charlie was infatuated with. The guy who made Charlie feel both more giddy and more grounded than he thought possible at the same time.
The same guy who would never feel the same way about Charlie as Charlie did about him.
Charlie groaned aloud, though hopefully Darcy thought it was just about the whole date thing. He was utterly besotted with Nick, but Nick was likely straight, not interested, and far too good for Charlie. Charlie’s crush had only intensified the longer he stayed with Nick, and Darcy was probably right. He hadn’t met anyone new in ages. Maybe going out with someone would at least serve as a distraction from the mouth-watering man he was sharing a house with. He sighed. “Where’s the date?”
Darcy squealed and told him the details, sending him some pictures of his date – Steven – and where they would meet. A few minutes later, Charlie received a message from Steven, confirming their plans and telling Charlie he was looking forward to the next night.
That made one of them, at least.
-
Charlie told Nick the next morning, stomach plummeting in immediate regret when Nick asked if Charlie was up for watching the rugby matches with him that night. Charlie stammered out an apology, telling Nick he was meeting up with a friend that evening, his voice hitching a little on the word friend. Charlie didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to tell Nick he was going on a date. Nick’s face fell for a moment when Charlie said he would be gone that evening and Charlie almost blurted out that he’d cancel. Then Nick recovered and told Charlie that he hoped Charlie had a good time.
Charlie drove to Portsmouth that evening and met Steven, the two of them sitting at a bar. Steven was good-looking, with a slight frame, wavy brown hair, and a handsome face. He was kind and easy to talk to and Charlie felt nothing.
He felt nothing.
There were no butterflies. There was no pleasantly-stomach-clenching anticipation of the end of the evening to see if there was an embrace. Steven was nice, but there was none of the body-spreading warmth of both cosiness and crackling heat that Charlie felt when he was with Nick. At the end of the meal, Charlie and Steven got up and walked out of the restaurant together. They hugged, and it was nothing like embracing Nick. The entire drive home, Charlie thought of what Nick’s night was like, alone on the sofa.
Back at Lavender Fields, Charlie walked into a quiet house, Nick apparently already asleep. Charlie dropped onto his bed again, snuggling the pillow close to his chest. He had gone on a date. He had gone on a date and it had been fine and the man had been nice and Charlie had felt nothing. It wasn’t that Charlie wasn’t ready to date, he realised. He just wasn’t ready to date someone who wasn’t Nick. Because Charlie liked Nick.
And there was no one else he wanted to be with.
Notes:
Next week is a Lavender Fields week!
Recently a friend asked Spouse what Spouse’s favorite thing is that I make. After thinking for a while, Spouse very seriously said, “guacamole”. I have never thought it was anything special, but here is how I make it!
Guacamole recipe:
3 ripe avocados
Large tomato
Red onion
Hot sauce
Lime juice
Salt, pepper, garlic powder, cayenne pepper
Dice the tomato into pleasantly-sized pieces (whatever is pleasant for you!). Lay them on a paper or cloth towel to dry out some of the extra juice.
Scoop out the avocados and put them in a bowl. Depending on your onion preferences, either mince the red onion (maybe a quarter of it or so), or cut it in half. Use the blade of a sharp knife to scrape off some onion juice into the avocado if you do not like actual onion pieces. Add the onion juice or minced onion to the avocado.
Give the ol green girl a good ‘lil mixing with a large fork. Stir in your tomatoes, and then salt, pepper, garlic powder, and lime juice. Taste, then add hot sauce/cayenne pepper to get to your spice liking. Enjoy!
Chapter 42: Charlie's POV: Perception
Summary:
Elle and Tao come to Lavender Fields. Nick and Charlie take some casual pictures together that cause no blood flow to anyone’s genitals.
Notes:
To the Anne Perkins/Andy Dwyer/Ron Swanson/Jean-Ralphio Sapersteins to my Leslie Knope, I love you. Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, you are a perfect combination of all four of those humans, even on the days when I am being a real Orin.
If you have not read The Summer Camp Effect by Caelge and phlimsical, I recommend it SO highly! Nick is awed, Charlie is thirsty, and you might see a familiar LF/RSW face!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie lay in bed on Sunday morning, the soft sounds of Nick in the kitchen drifting upstairs. Charlie hadn’t noticed those sounds when he first got to Lavender Fields, but now it was like he’d been tuned into a different frequency, the hushed softness of the inn and the setting and the security allowing Charlie to notice so much more. Things were so much quieter than they were in London, both in street volume and inside Charlie’s head.
Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Charlie’s head was often swirling with thoughts of Nick and more recently, wonders about what certain things meant. Things that Charlie was probably inventing, like the meaning of embraces and drum sets. It wasn’t as if Charlie was entirely zen at Lavender Fields, but he did feel more settled, more at peace. When he was with Nick, Charlie’s fears and doubts about himself felt further away. They still crept in, curling their fingers around the doorframe of his mind and threatening to pull him out of his cosy comfort. It wasn’t as often, though - Charlie could feel how much more secure he felt in the weeks since everything had happened with Ben. Charlie knew it was some of his own growth, some of the healing that had happened since he and Ben had broken up. Some of it, though, was Nick.
Nick.
There truly was no other person who made Charlie feel the way that Nick did. Nick was somehow both gentle and tremendously funny at the same time. He was massively strong and incredibly soft. Nick was personable, welcoming, warm, and it was likely that he’d soon be written up in medical journals for having the world’s first absolutely perfect arse. Charlie liked Nick. Steven had been nice. Steven had been funny. Steven had been attractive and easy to talk to and so many things that even the Charlie from two months ago would have been staggered to think he could get in a man. Yet Charlie had felt nothing. Their hug had been one of those quick, arse-out, pat-pat-pat type hugs, the ones that colleagues exchanged at the company annual holiday party. As he hugged Steven, Charlie’s mind flashed to Nick and what it had felt like to be in his arms. How right it had felt to be in Nick’s arms.
Charlie sighed and pulled a pillow into his chest, cuddling against the soft, cream-coloured fabric. Was a crush on Nick Nelson hopeless? Probably. Was that going to stop Charlie from drifting off to sleep every night with closed-eye fantasies of Nick sliding into bed with him, running his hands up Charlie’s arm and then letting his fingers feather across Charlie’s neck? No. Fuck to the no, in fact.
Charlie was going to let himself just… like Nick for a while. It didn’t hurt anyone (except himself, of course). Then again, it felt like it hurt more to try to force himself to not like Nick. Charlie had tried to intellectualise his crush and turn his feelings for Nick into bullet points, like Elle had suggested. It had been a great idea, though it had really just resulted in Charlie creating an encyclopaedic entry on why Nick Nelson was the ideal mate for the organism cf springius.
So Charlie was just going to let himself like Nick. He was going to let himself like Nick and drift in the current of his feelings, letting the waters swirl around him. Charlie got out of bed and got ready for the day, making his way to the kitchen. Nick greeted him with a flask of coffee, a beaming smile, and a warm hug that made Charlie feel like every one of his cells had settled down, locked into the perfect, right place in his body.
God, Charlie liked Nick so much.
-
Darcy asked how the date went later that day, as did Elle and Tara. Charlie replied that it was “fine,” and all of them seemed to know not to push. Steven sent a couple polite messages on Sunday and Monday and Charlie sent a couple polite messages back. It was clear that neither of them were too invested in communication that merited any substantial response, and their communication fizzled out within 48 hours. It didn’t matter, though. Charlie felt like he was just waiting for the days to pass and to return to Lavender Fields. Despite the additional week he had been gifted, Charlie still knew that the days were ticking down and wanted to soak up every second he had with Nick.
On Tuesday at work, Anita brought him the proofs for the cookbook that she had been working on. They looked… they looked incredible. It was one thing to see Nick’s mum’s recipes written in her own hand and it was another thing to see them laid out on thick paper, styled beautifully. Not for the first time, Charlie wondered about who Sarah Nelson was and what she was like. How did you raise a son to be like Nick? And how did you raise a son to be like Nick despite the utter douchebaggery of Nick’s dad? Charlie and Nick had spent hours talking about their families, and Charlie could hear the hurt buried in Nick’s voice when he spoke about his father.
Driving to Lavender Fields that evening, Charlie remembered that he might actually cross paths with Sarah Nelson, depending on how long his stay went. Oh my god, that would be amazing. Charlie grinned to himself, thinking of all of the questions he would be able to ask Sarah about Nick. What was he like as a kid? What was the naughtiest thing he did? Was there something specific you ate during his pregnancy that made him turn out to be so adorable and hot at the same time?
Charlie was idly imagining what it would be like to meet Nick’s mum when he stopped for petrol on the way to the inn. He leaned against the car, scrolling through Insta and then switching over to his messages. There, just three messages from the top, was his now-muted thread with Ben, one that Charlie hadn’t looked at in over a week. His stomach clenched as he looked through the messages, the ones that no longer pinged on Charlie’s phone since he had muted Ben just about a week ago. The messages varied wildly in tone and tenor, sometimes with a gap of minutes and sometimes with a few days between them.
[7 days ago] B. Hope: What’s the name of that bar that you liked, the one that had the brussels and apple salad?
[7 days ago] B. Hope: omg you are such a tease, I know you’re seeing these messages
[7 days ago] B. Hope: Stop avoiding me, Charlie
[5 days ago] B. Hope: I saw a hot guy on the street today and thought he was you 😘
[4 days ago]B. Hope: I miss you, Charlie ❤️
[4 days ago] B. Hope: Seriously? You’re going to fucking ignore me like this?
[4 days ago] B. Hope: Do you know how many hot guys I’ve been hooking up with
[2 days ago] B. Hope: I know you miss me
[yesterday] B. Hope: I love you. I just say those things because I’m hurting. You hurt me, Charlie, but I still love you
Charlie’s stomach roiled now, turning over on itself. With the messages stacked like that, Charlie could actually see the whip-saw of Ben’s words, how he dangled kindness in front of Charlie, alternating with sharp, razor-like bites. The messages themselves were less painful than the gut-hollowing realisation that this had always been Ben, love-bombing Charlie after something awful he did and keeping it up only until Charlie had been lured back in.
How could I have not seen it? Charlie thought dully to himself, stowing his phone away in his pocket. How pathetic must I have been? How sad am I? He closed his eyes and thought back to a conversation that he and Amy had a few weeks back, the two of them talking openly about how much they had seen after their relationships had ended. He thought of the therapy he had started, and the way his therapist had begun guiding him towards understanding how Ben had gaslit and manipulated him.
Charlie had decided to see a therapist again, though it had taken him a bit to get started. Charlie hated to admit it, but he had felt oddly proud to not have seen a therapist since he was younger. He knew it was irrational, but thought that he had “graduated” from therapy, earning his “I’m Normal!” medal when he was sixteen. Elle had kindly reminded him that therapy wasn’t about being “normal” (which Charlie knew, of course), but about humans supporting other humans through a complex and overwhelming world.
“Why not make the world a little bit easier on yourself?” she’d suggested, in her warm and firm way. “The worst that happens is you’re heard.”
It had taken a bit, but Charlie had started therapy a few weeks ago and really liked the person he found. You’re not what’s sad, his therapist had told him both kindly and firmly. What’s sad is being a person who’s so insecure that they choose to psychologically entrap someone else. What’s sad is that Ben will go his whole life trying to convince himself he’s better than the person he’s with to try to compensate for how unhappy he is. What’s sad is that that will be his whole life, Charlie. What’s not sad is you. You are power, Charlie. You are the one who chose to leave and who had started to realise just how incredible you are. You’re not sad, Charlie. He is.
Charlie learned his head back against the headrest and nodded to himself. He knew he wasn’t incredible - he was just Charlie. But he had left Ben. And he was - Charlie was happy. Ben would never be happy. Charlie opened his phone back up and deleted the message thread, feeling a flicker of joy seeing the name disappear from his screen.
Charlie wasn’t the sad one. Ben was.
-
The welcome-back hug with Nick was amazing.
Charlie got in later than normal that evening, a combination of a late night at work, heavy traffic out of London, and the rain that had started right after Charlie’s stop for petrol. That hadn’t kept him and Nick from staying up late that evening, their voices and the lights low as they spoke in the dining room, warm cups of tea in front of both of them. The rain slashed against the window, but Charlie felt cosy and protected. He was at Lavender Fields, he was with Nick, and there was nothing else Charlie wanted in the world.
Well…besides a few things that Charlie kept to himself, those things glittering through his mind as he tried to fall asleep.
The week was brilliant. Charlie felt like an actual part of Lavender Fields now. He had surreptitiously started declining meetings before ten so he could help Nick with breakfast and the dishes, though he made a point of waking up early so that he could get an hour of work done before joining Nick for breakfast. The two of them worked easily together, brushing past one another and exchanging smiles that made Charlie feel like his heart was nearly bursting. The smiles felt like a private kind of communication just for them, and Charlie drank it all in. It got to the point where some guests actually thought he was a staff member.
“Do you mind bringing up some extra towels, dear?” A middle-aged woman asked one morning after breakfast after Nick had gone to help another guest. “I think your husband is busy.”
It took a minute for the wires to reconnect in Charlie’s brain, the woman’s words having left them melted and sizzling. Husband…? Oh my god. Oh. Oh, she thought Nick was Charlie’s husband. Charlie couldn’t think of what would make it less awkward, so he had just nodded and blushed furiously. He brought towels to the woman’s room and prayed that it never came up again, knowing that Nick would die if he had heard that. Charlie had died a little bit, too, but in the la petite mort way of the French.
The week breezed by too quickly for Charlie’s liking. He was thrilled that Elle and Tao were coming up for the weekend, though it was a little bittersweet that Charlie’s attention would be split between his two favourite people in the world and his favourite person. Charlie hurried to get his work done Friday, both to be able to join Nick in town like they did most weeks, but also because he wanted to share the cookbook proofs with Nick before Elle and Tao got there. They knew about the cookbook project that Charlie and Anita were working on, but Charlie felt like he wanted the first reveal to be something private for Nick. Those recipes had been part of who Nick was and part of his childhood, and Charlie wanted to treat anything in Nick’s life with the reverence and care that Nick deserved.
Charlie was able to wrap up his work before noon that day, messaging Nick from upstairs to let him know that he’d be joining for lunch. Nick sent back a string of star-eyed and heart emojis, as well as a fork and knife and an egg, all of those making Charlie both swoon and snort. Charlie headed downstairs to find Nick in the kitchen, notably more grounded than he had been the day before. The day before, Nick had seemed a little scattered, jumping from subject to subject and just generally seeming excited about everything. Charlie set his laptop on the counter, opening it up. He grinned at Nick, then tilted his head, trying to look serious. “Are you wearing waterproof mascara?”
Nick tilted his head and gave Charlie a puzzled grin. “I - what? I’m not wearing…any?”
Charlie didn’t reply, but he couldn’t help himself from raising his eyebrows and smirking at Nick. He pulled up the proof that Anita had sent, turning the laptop and beginning to scroll through the pdfs so Nick could see the pages.
Charlie waited as Nick’s eyebrows went from joining together in confusion, then raising up. Then Nick’s whole face softened into something soul-achingly tender. “So this is the table of contents,” Charlie said quietly, eyes still trained on Nick’s face. His eyes were bright and flickering across Charlie’s screen, travelling all over the pages. “Of course, there are only a few recipes that are actually in here so far, but I think I have most of the page layouts that we’ll use.” Charlie kept moving through the pages, looking briefly at the screen to see where he was but mostly staying on Nick’s face. He saw Nick press his lips together and swallow several times. Charlie felt his chest ache, his heart actually hurting at how emotional Nick looked. Was it too much? Was he okay? Nick’s throat worked again and Charlie reached out, gently touching Nick on the arm.
“Hi,” Charlie said quietly, not sure how Nick would take it. Ben had hated being perceived when he was feeling any emotion at all.
Nick let out a tiny laugh, and Charlie instantly relaxed. Nick wasn’t like Ben. “Hi.”
Charlie kept his hand on Nick’s arm. “You okay?”
Nick blinked several times, chuffing out another half-laugh. “Yeah. It’s just - this is truly one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”
Charlie felt himself warm from the inside out, a fire blooming in his chest and heat radiating from where his fingers were still on Nick’s forearm. “Do you still like it so far?”
Nick turned and looked at Charlie fully in the face. “I do,” Nick said quietly, his brown eyes locked on Charlie’s. There was a brief moment, the words hanging in the air that had suddenly become thick. “I like it so much.”
Nick’s eyes were still on Charlie’s, dancing just perceptibly back and forth as he looked straight at Charlie’s face. Charlie felt as though someone had struck him in the chest with the heel of a hand, momentarily breathless. Did…was Nick…? He was talking about the recipe book. Right? He had to be. Nick…did he…
Stop reading into everything, Charlie scolded himself. He took a grounding breath and forced his face into a smile.. “Good. I’m really - I’m really glad about that, Nick. I’m going to send you the file through our secure system - copyrights and all that, you know? Make comments on it, okay? Even things like colours and fonts and the way paragraphs are spaced. This is going to be what you want it to be for you and your mum.” Charlie felt the warmth still spreading throughout his body and realised with a start that his hand was still on Nick’s arm, warm and firm. He pulled it away quickly feeling the heat burning his cheeks.
Nick looked down at where Charlie’s hand had been and Charlie felt the blush spread into his own neck. He was ready to blurt out an apology when Nick looked at him again. “Thank you. I love it. This is going to be - I can’t even tell you, Charlie. She is going to love it so, so much.”
Charlie smiled, his heart fluttering. Any gift he could give Nick was just a tiny drop in the bucket in returning all of the kindness Nick had given to him. “Good,” he said. “I think if you give some feedback in the next few weeks and let me take the other two binders back on Sunday I can get those pages at least scanned in. I think we could at least get a draft ready by the start of next year. And then we’ll have to do proper pictures at some point, too. We just have those placeholder ones…”
Nick shook his head and grinned at Charlie, wagging a finger. “That you took, you sneaky photography ninja!”
“I think you underestimate the sneakiness, sir,” Charlie quoted, using one of his and Darcy’s favourite lines.
Nick laughed loudly. “Oh my god, don’t tell me…uh, it’s Adam Sandler…Oh, Mr. Deeds, right?”
“Yes,” said Charlie, giggling. He and Darcy had once done edibles and watched the film, both of them firmly convinced at the time that it was the pinnacle of cinematic humour.
Nick tapped a finger against his chin and Charlie averted his eyes from Nick’s pink, lovely lips. “We’ll have to watch that for our next throwback film night, though I don’t think that’s in the VHS tape cellar. It’s a lovely vintage, though.”
“That’s okay, I bet we can stream it,” said Charlie. Then he raised a finger back at Nick, needing to set expectations for Tao’s arrival. It might have been Nick’s home, but that wasn’t going to stop Tao from evangelising the Word of the Gutting Film to Lavender Fields. “You are about to be miserable for two to three hours with whatever Tao picks if we do end up watching something.”
Nick gave Charlie a little half-hitched grin that made his blood feel like it was effervescing, then it slid back into a cheeky smile. “So…I take it we’re not watching Air Bud?”
Charlie laughed. “Not if you value your self-esteem; I think Tao would have several aspersions to cast on your character if you suggested that.”
Nick grinned at that and he and Charlie discussed the details, the two of them planning to head into town a bit later. Nick gave Charlie another glowing look before Charlie went back upstairs to finish a few last things for work. He was looking forward to seeing Elle and Tao back at Lavender Fields, of course. He was also looking forward to another few hours in town with Nick, just the two of them together.
-
Nick and Charlie stayed together to do the drop-offs this time, Charlie helping Nick unload and carrying the few light things that Nick allowed him to carry in. It was jolting every time they got out of the warm truck and spilled into the icy breeze, but Charlie was warmed by the feeling of being with Nick. They split up for a bit when Nick got groceries and Charlie went into the off-licence, then met back up at one of the local vendor’s place. His name was Mark and he was handsome, salt-and-pepper hair and piercing eyes.
“Hey, Nick,” said Mark, looking up as they entered his shop. “All right?”
“All right,” replied Nick in a much more laddish voice than Charlie was used to. “Here’s this week’s order.”
“Ta, mate,” replied Mark, accepting the box. “How’s your mum doing?”
“She’s fine,” said Nick, not expanding any more on the short sentence. Charlie glanced over, unsure what to make of a not-entirely-glowingly friendly Nick.
“Will she be back soon?” asked Mark in what seemed like an affectedly casual manner, putting things away and not looking directly at Nick.
“She’s visiting in not too long,” Nick replied, in a manner entirely unlike when he had told Charlie about his mum’s upcoming trip to Lavender Fields.
“Is that right?” Mark asked, still not looking at Nick. “Mm.”
Charlie caught a scowl on Nick’s face and he swallowed back a grin of his own. Ooooh, Charlie was picking up on some vibes and he was here for the drama. Charlie loved some deliciously low-stakes drama that was not his.
They got back in the truck and Nick drove in silence for a minute, eyebrows furrowed. Charlie pursed his lips, trying to keep the grin out of his voice. “So he was…?”
“He’s a vendor,” said Nick, looking straight ahead.
“A vendor who’s quite interested in the comings and goings of a certain Lavender Fields mum?”
Nick glowered and it made him look both unreasonably ridiculous and hotter, somehow. “Too interested.”
Charlie laughed. “Oh my god, you salty, overprotective rugby bully!”
Nick snorted and looked at Charlie, face torn between amusement and horror at the idea of his mum getting some. “Salty? ”
Charlie grinned and crossed his arms. “Yeah, you’re totally salting your mum’s game.”
Nick spluttered. “Her…game?!” Charlie could see the tips of his ears reddening.
“I’ve seen pictures at Lavender Fields and online,” said Charlie, an evil grin tugging at his lips. “Your mum is a catch.”
Nick gripped the wheel tightly and shook his head, staring at the road like it might swallow him up in a welcoming embrace of maternal chastity. “Charlie, I swear to god, I will turn every sentence into a pun if you keep going down this path. I’ll be insufferable.”
“...More insufferable, you mean?”
“Oi!”
Charlie laughed again, heart light and happy. Nick was grinning too, even though he was trying to make himself look annoyed, something he pulled off very poorly. “I’m just saying. Your mum’s been single for a while, right? Does she date?”
“Nope,” Nick replied firmly.
Charlie tilted his head. “Nick.”
Nick looked over, looking like he actually believed what he was saying. “I’m serious!”
Charlie almost felt badly for him. “Oh, you poor, sweet, naive, temporary innkeeper.”
Nick laughed defeatedly, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe she has dated since my dad. But we don’t talk about it. Thank god.”
“Think about it, Nick,” said Charlie, gesturing in front of him and sweeping his hands like paintbrushes. “She’s on a romantic trip around the world. She’s a single woman, visiting amazing places, trying new things, meeting tons of interesting people on her travels.” Charlie grinned and raised an eyebrow at Nick. “I bet she’s Tindering it up right now.”
“How dare you, Charles Elvira Rossellini Spring!” Nick said, looking as if the steering wheel was made of pearls that were in dire need of clutching. “Sarah Nelson goes to museums during the day and then goes to bed at seven pm promptly each night.”
Charlie snorted, cocking his head at Nick and swallowing back a laugh. “Elvira Rossellini? Not even going to touch that.”
Nick harrumphed and drummed the steering wheel. “Can we talk about something more pleasant than my mum dating?” There was a pause, and then Nick shook his head vehemently. “Ugh, especially Mark. If she was going to date, she’s not going to date someone like that. Charlie, he said once that his favourite food was ‘soup’. Sarah will date someone with taste, both literal and metaphorical.”
Charlie laughed and leaned his head back against the headrest. Nick was absolutely ridiculous and Charlie had never been more enamoured with a person, ever. “Okay, got it. I’ll get a few more qualities you need covered before I wingman the shit out of Sarah Nelson when she gets here next week.”
Nick laughed, sounding defeated. “I will shut the Internet off before I let that happen, I swear to Jobs.”
“Jobs?” said Charlie with a grin, throwing a look over at Nick.
Nick glanced over briefly. “Steve Jobs?”
“Oh my god, you made a pun about…the Internet? And Apple? Just let me out here.” Charlie seized the door handle and pretended to tug on it.
“If I did, you’d miss this view!” said Nick, taking a turn.
Charlie gasped as the world seemed to open up, the blue-grey water of the sea stretching beyond them, meeting the sky in an endless line. Charlie had been too busy bullying Nick about his mum shagging a shopkeeper to notice that they had gone a different way back to Lavender Fields, one that edged along the water. “God! It’s gorgeous, Nick!” Charlie breathed, eyes scanning as Nick drove. The muted, endless colours of the sea stood in contrast to the grey-black cliffs, the drop looking both dizzying and intoxicating. Charlie drank it all in for a moment, feeling happier and more sated than he had in months. To be in the truck with Nick, the two of them cosy and close against the cold outside, with Charlie’s friends on their way…if the rest of Charlie’s life could be as simple and comforting as this, he’d be a happy man.
Charlie turned to look at Nick, to ask him where exactly they were, only to pause when he caught a glimpse of Nick’s face, eyes locked on Charlie. Nick’s expression was one Charlie couldn’t read, but it shifted almost immediately, Nick looking abashed. Charlie grinned, trying to cover up the confusion of the moment. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” said Nick, the dying light casting a red hue over his cheeks. “Yeah, it is gorgeous.”
-
They got back to Lavender Fields and unloaded the car, Charlie stealing glances at Nick’s face. The look Nick had given him in the car…it had been yet another one of those moments with Nick, the ones that made Charlie feel like he’d missed a step on a staircase. They were the moments when Charlie had thought he understood exactly what was happening only to have his expectations upended, stomach swooping in confused surprise when things went differently. That look had been another one of those. It had felt…in that quick moment before Nick’s face had shifted, it felt like Nick had been looking at Charlie. Looking at Charlie not in the casual way you looked at a person, but at Charlie like…
Well, like the way that Charlie looked at Nick.
That had to be in Charlie’s head, though. Charlie was convincing himself of things that weren’t there after the hug. And after the drums. And after the looks…
Charlie mentally shook himself, focusing back on being present. He and Nick were in the kitchen, each engaged in their own tasks but present with each other. Nick was making a risotto that already smelled delicious, the scents of garlic and spices filling up the kitchen. Anita had told Charlie about a spicy paloma recipe she had discovered and Charlie had picked up the ingredients for that at the off-licence when he and Nick were in town. Charlie and Nick went back and forth on taste-testing, Nick handing Charlie a spoonful of risotto and Charlie passing Nick a sip of a drink, the two of them laughing and giving feedback to each other that got increasingly amusing as they had more alcohol.
Nick poured some Riesling into the risotto and let it cook down, pouring a glass of wine for both him and Charlie. He swirled the wine in front of his nose and took a deep sniff. “Now, Charlie, in professional rugby school, they teach you the art of fine things, like identifying wine.” He took another long inhale. “For example, I can say with confidence that this is a white.”
Charlie laughed, a tiny bit of the wine going up his nose. He sputtered and choked, wincing again the burn. “Mm, yes. It has a hint of Sour Patch Kids left in the sun, topped with sea salt.”
Nick laughed loudly and took another drink of his wine, the two of them inventing new expressions, Charlie thoughtfully nodding and saying at one point that, “The grapes feel like the ones that would try to talk to you about cryptocurrency at a party.”
Their conversation bounced around from topic to topic as the two of them drank and cooked, Charlie’s brain buzzing pleasantly. He felt floaty and liquid and almost totally at ease. Nick did a Nathan Lane impression from The Birdcage that almost made Charlie cry laughing.
“Hey, we’re missing music!” Nick exclaimed after a bit, pointing the wooden spoon at Charlie and sending a few pieces of risotto flying across the room. He put one hand out like he was using a turntable and touched the other hand to his ear as if he had headphones in. “DJ Charlie, where you at?!”
Charlie laughed and connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen, then hopped on the counter and swayed to the music with his eyes closed. He was just so happy. The kitchen was filled with light and delicious scents and the immense warmth of Nick Nelson and music. Charlie and Ben had cooked together of course, but it had never felt like this. It had been means to an end, making a meal and counting Ben’s macros. This felt entirely different in the best way. Charlie danced as well as he could along to the song, humming a few notes after it faded out. Then Charlie heard the thumping bass and lead-in lyrics to a Delta Goodrem song he loved, The Power. His eyes flew open. “I love this song!”
I been owning all my steps
Moved on from all regrets
All of my failures only fueled me behind these eyes
I'm lighting up inside
I'm burning up the sky
Can anyone else feel this feeling
Charlie slid off the counter and started to move along to the music, rolling his shoulders but keeping his movements small. He knew Delta Goodrem was Australian and Charlie grinned to himself, imagining that Danny was in the kitchen with him and Nick. Danny wouldn’t do those tiny tentative dance steps Charlie was doing. Danny would be full on with this song, especially with an Aussie artist. Charlie felt the smile spreading across his face and started to move more, feeling loose and relaxed around Nick.
Charlie shimmied a little, the glass tilting in his hands. He took a few large sashays across the kitchen, Nick laughing aloud at Charlie’s exaggerated movements. Charlie opened his eyes briefly to see Nick smiling broadly. He wasn’t laughing at Charlie at all, he was just…laughing. Open. Free. Charlie grinned back at Nick and Nick took a few arm-swinging steps, looking hesitant before downing his drink and joining Charlie with startling gusto. Charlie laughed aloud and put his drink on the counter, opening his arms and spinning. He could feel the music coursing through his body, the beat and the alcohol mixing together and emboldening him. Charlie sang along, Nick jumping in along with the chorus and doing his best.
That the power lives in me
We’ve got the power
Nick played a wild air piano over the bridge and Charlie threw his head back and laughed. He was giddy, his confidence buoyed by the warm kitchen, the pounding music, the wine. The music dropped to the chorus and Charlie tried to hit the high notes, voice cracking and making Nick giggle. Nick surged towards Charlie and swung him in a circle, using his hand to press against Charlie’s stomach. Charlie felt a core of heat rise and swell from the place where Nick’s hand was touching him. Charlie felt pleasantly dizzied, circling around with Nick and resting his hand on Nick’s heavily muscled shoulder. They were laughing and singing and Charlie didn’t know if he’d ever felt so light. Their bodies were close together and their faces were close together and Charlie felt his skin tingling, every sense both heightened and muted at the same time. Nick was so close to Charlie that Charlie could smell the cologne clinging to his skin. He was so close that–
“...Is this your audition tape for Britain’s Got Talent?”
Charlie whipped around and Nick did too, Charlie’s brain taking a minute to drag himself away from dancing with Nick and comprehend that Elle was there. Elle. Elle! Charlie loved Elle! “Elle!” Charlie exclaimed, rushing over to hear and seizing her in a hug.
Elle laughed. “I see you two started without us!” She hugged Charlie and then stepped around to hug Nick, walking carefully over the floor like there was something on it. Charlie frowned and looked down. Oh. There was something on it. A lot of something on it. It looked like a teensy bit of Charlie and Nick’s drinks had spilled, just a few millilitres or seven thousand.
“We did,” said Charlie with a hiccup. “Nick made risotto and we needed to use wine in it. And wine goes bad within thirty minutes of opening, you know.” Charlie took his cocktail off the counter and gave it a scholarly sip, tilting his glass towards Elle and proudly noting to himself that he didn’t spill much at all this time. “It’s science.”
Elle laughed. “Oh, yes, everyone knows that.” Her eyes shifted over to Nick and then back to Charlie, who grinned and leaned back against the counter. All of his favourite people were going to be in one house this weekend. That was nice. Everything was so nice right now.
“Where’s Tao?” asked Nick, and Charlie blinked. He silently counted on his fingers - oh, yeah. Yeah, where was Tao? Charlie felt pleasantly fuzzy, brain still velvety and happy from the dance party with Nick.
“He had to finish a call,” explained Elle. “He should be in in just a minute, though full disclosure, he is in a mood. There was a permitting issue with a shoot that he was doing, so he’s very grumpy right now.”
Charlie grinned. “And that differs from his usual mood…how?”
Nick giggled, high and loud through his nose. It was infectious and it set Charlie and Elle off, too, the three of them snorting and laughing when Tao came in, face looking like a thundercloud. Nick nudged Charlie and Charlie looked over, feeling like his eyeballs were swivelling a little too slowly.
“I have something,” Nick said to Charlie in a stage whisper as Tao dropped his bag, muttering something. “It might put him in a to-Tao-lly different mood.”
Charlie dissolved in another silent fit of giggles, shaking his head as Nick looked massively pleased with himself. Nick hustled into the kitchen and came back with a plate of warm lemon blueberry loaf in one hand and a drink in the other, thrusting them at Tao. Charlie grinned as Tao took a bite and a sip, grumbling lost in a mouthful of sugar, both fermented and non.
Charlie slipped back to stand next to Nick nudging him gently with his elbow. “A well-nourished Tao is a happy Tao,” Charlie murmured. “Excellent work, chef Nick.”
Nick nudged him back, a blush on his cheeks with the alcohol. “I think all credit goes to mixologist Spring.”
Charlie blushed too and caught Nick’s eye, the two of them laughing silently again at absolutely nothing. The two of them went back into the kitchen as Elle and Tao dropped off their things, everyone grabbing a bowl, Charlie balancing his with the pitcher of palomas. Nick trailed behind the three of them up the stairs as Tao queried Nick endlessly about the films he had and had not watched, Charlie suppressing a grin at Nick’s cheerful bemusement. Nick gave Charlie a private smile when Charlie settled down on his usual spot on the sofa. Charlie smiled back, hoping that having Elle and Tao there might mean that Nick needed to sit a little closer to him than normal. He blinked when Tao sat down right next to him instead, still shaking his head at Nick as if personally aggrieved at Nick’s media history.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Donnie Darko,” said Tao as he settled next to Charlie, leaning forward to take his bowl of risotto.
Charlie felt a stab of disappointment, looking over at Nick. Nick seemed…did he seem disappointed too? No, Charlie, that was the alcohol sloshing around in your brain. “Oh, uh - yeah,” said Nick. “Er, no, I guess.”
Elle sat next to Tao, looking over at Nick and then shaking her head at her husband. “Not everyone has seen your ‘10 most influential films of the early noughties’ list, Tao.”
Tao huffed. “Well, they should.” Charlie let out a strangled sound that could plausibly have been passed off as a cough and he and Nick exchanged another look behind Elle and Tao’s heads.
The film began and Nick used his phone to dim the lights. Charlie wanted so badly to be sitting next to Nick. On the relatively small sofa, their shoulders might have been pressed together. Nick’s thick, muscled thighs made his knees spread out from each other sometimes when he sat down. Charlie thought that maybe their knees would have bumped against each other with three of them sitting there. Just the thought made his stomach swing dangerously, the back of Charlie’s knees feeling melty at the thought. Charlie suppressed a sigh and settled back, feeling himself start to sober up as the food hit his stomach.
“Is that Maggie Gyllenhall?!” Nick exclaimed excitedly, Tao immediately shushing him. Nick looked cowed and glanced at Charlie, Charlie snickering silently, their shoulders both shaking with suppressed laughter.
A few minutes later, Charlie’s phone buzzed and he took it out, grinning when he saw the message was from Nick.
LF Nick: Is he sleepwalking? Is this real?
Charlie snorted and then tapped out a message, halfway hiding his phone under the blanket to avoid getting scolded by schoolmarm Tao.
cfspring: oh god nick it is going to get so much worse before it gets better
LF Nick: I’M SORRY WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GIANT RABBIT AND DO I HAVE TO SEE IT AGAIN
cfspring: oh, is the strong rugby lad scared?
LF Nick: YES
LF Nick: Wait why is the world ending
LF Nick: What happened to their house?!
LF Nick: OMG Patrick Swayze?!
cfspring: lolololol
cfspring: buckle up nicky, it’s gonna be a long ride.
LF Nick: Nicky?! How dare you!
LF Nick: Why do they wear uniforms?
LF Nick: Is this like a private school?
LF Nick: That bully kid is a dick should I care about him
LF Nick: Charlieeeee what is happening
LF Nick: Ooh, Drew Barrymore!
Charlie laughed silently through his nose. Having other people around made him realise the nuance and depth of their friendship. There was so much there - private jokes and humour, endless message threads and so many memes that Charlie’s messages app had crashed several times trying to load their conversation. Charlie thought back on just the last few days - the nights they had stayed up talking, the trip into town with Charlie cheekily making fun of Nick, the dancing - god, the dancing - and now the silly message between them. Being with Nick was just…it was comfortable. It was fun. It made Charlie feel like he was more at home than he had felt in several years.
cfspring: omg this is so much better than actually watching this film
cfspring: (...for the 78th time)
The two of them messaged throughout the film. Charlie could see Nick jumping several times throughout the plot and wished again that he had been sitting next to Nick. He had to guess that with Nick’s seeming propensity for physical contact Nick might have grabbed Charlie’s hand or arm in fear. It wasn’t that Charlie wanted to scare Nick into holding his hand, but he also didn’t not want that to happen.
The film ended and Charlie twisted his mouth trying to keep his laugh down, feeling Nick’s eyes on him. Charlie looked over once the end credits rolled, Nick giving Charlie a tiny, tentative wave in a perfect imitation of Gretchen and Mrs. Darko waving at each other. Charlie buried his face in the blanket and laughed, Nick laughing as well.
“Well,” said Tao firmly. “Now you’ve been properly educated, Nick.”
“And scarred,” Nick said, a trace of authenticity in his voice.
Elle laughed. “And scarred, yes.” She looked back at Tao, raising an eyebrow. “You better hope that you didn’t terrorise Nick so much that he’s no longer able to make morning baked goods.”
Tao turned slowly, a dawning look of horror coming over his face. “That… you wouldn’t… there are still going to be pastries, yes?” he demanded, eyes desperate.
Nick laughed. “Yes, there will be pastries. I promise.”
“Oh, thank god,” Tao muttered, clutching his chest. Charlie grinned.
Elle glanced over at Charlie and then at Nick. She raised her arms and stretched, yawning. “Come on, Tao, I’m exhausted. Let’s head to bed. We can just go through this door, right?”
“Right,” Nick confirmed, and Charlie felt his heart leap. Would he have a moment alone with Nick?
Charlie exchanged hugs with Elle and Tao and wished them goodnight. He lingered a moment longer in the living room, stretching for an exaggeratedly long time, looking around as if surprised to find just him and Nick. “Hi,” he said to Nick, grinning through a yawn that was actually legitimate.
“Hi,” Nick replied, smiling back at Charlie. “You headed to bed too?”
“I should,” Charlie conceded. “I’m sure Tao will want to get up early for a power-lifting session tomorrow.”
Nick laughed, nodding ruefully. “And I’ll be busy being terrified of rabbits, planes, and any potential lack of commitment to Sparkle Motion.”
Charlie snorted and the two of them met in a hug. Nick clutched at Charlie dramatically, pretending to cower into Charlie’s body. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” murmured Nick, trying to hide in Charlie’s thin chest. “And I’ve seen those images where people anthropomorphized Spongebob characters.”
Charlie drew back and laughed, grinning at Nick while still holding onto his arms. God, it felt so natural and right to be close to Nick like this. “Don’t worry. I will definitely not stand at the end of your bed in a bunny mask silently waiting until you wake up in the middle of the night at some point.”
Nick gasped, hands gripping Charlie’s elbows. “You could never inflict such cruelty!”
Charlie raised an eyebrow and tried to look at Nick coolly, drawing an invisible nail file over his left hand. “You spend enough time around demonic portraits, you learn a thing or two.”
Nick laughed, then pretended to shake his head somberly as the two of them stepped apart, Charlie doing so reluctantly. “Letting them peer pressure you is the first sign of possession, you know.”
Charlie couldn’t repress a little shiver, though he was glowing at one of the many inside jokes that he and Nick had. Kind, funny, warm inside jokes. Even though they were about dead people who were probably going to try to eat him one day. “You’re just jealous of the bond I have with them now.”
Nick laughed again. “You’re right. Tomorrow we can take a black and white picture of you with bloodlust in your eyes and hang it up in a spot of honour alongside your new best friends.”
Charlie snorted. “New best friends? That’ll go right to their heads, thinking they replaced you!” Oh - oh god. The easy, light atmosphere of the night and all that Charlie had built with Nick over the last weeks and months evaporated immediately. Here was needy Charlie, clingy Charlie, Charlie who clung on to people too tightly and too quickly. Best friend – was Nick Charlie’s best friend? It…it felt like it, sometimes. It was different to Elle and Tao, a friendship that was somehow new and still rooted deeply in Charlie’s soul. Though clearly Charlie wasn’t Nick’s best friend. Not by a long shot. Nick had endless friends, closer and better ones than him. Charlie blushed deeply and fumbled his words, trying to cover the moment and his embarrassment. “Thinking that they’re my best friends,” Charlie corrected himself, not even knowing what he was saying. He stared at a spot somewhere past Nick’s shoulder, hoping for a tiny, extremely localised sinkhole that would swallow him up and damage nothing structurally at Lavender Fields.
Charlie heard Nick make a small sound, something soft and kind. Charlie looked up to see Nick…looking at him. Nick was looking at him in that same way, the way that had made Charlie’s heart skip a beat the week before. It was the same look that Nick had given him before Charlie stupidly and foolishly wondered if Nick was going to kiss him, legs feeling unsteady. Then it changed like it had before, Nick’s face relaxing into his easy, open expression. “No one could replace me,” he said lightly, giving Charlie a smile that eased the tension in his chest, even if just a little.
Charlie exhaled, keeping the shake out of it. “Well. Good. I hope you sleep well and dream of only normal-sized rabbits, not the man-shaped ones.”
“Too soon, Charlie!”
Charlie laughed and Nick reached out once more. Charlie returned the gesture and hugged Nick again, Nick stiffening momentarily before wrapping Charlie up in his arms. Charlie took a deep breath in, settling into the comfort of Nick’s body before drawing back.
Nick looked at him once more. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Nick.”
Charlie gave Nick a final wave and went to his room, wondering about the tiny pause that he thought he’d heard in Nick’s voice before he had told Charlie goodnight.
-
On Saturday morning, Nick made waffles for everyone, even sitting down and joining Charlie, Elle, and Tao to eat. Charlie had messaged Nick a few websites the night before that offered analyses of Donnie Darko, and Nick did a beautiful job of dropping in insights that he’d clearly memorised, Tao’s eyes popping appreciatively. Charlie had to chuckle when Tao started asking Nick more about his takes, the panic filling Nick’s eyes before he jumped up to “see if the tea was burning.” Charlie had sent Nick those websites after he’d gotten in bed, his mind refusing to settle down. He’d had that moment the night before - that irrational, heart-skipping wonder of thinking that Nick might be about to kiss him.
Charlie knew that it was naively wishful thinking. He knew that, but there was still…there was still some tiny part of him that whispered, its soft breath stoking the flame of Charlie’s silly hope. Maybe he’s not straight, the voice whispered. You don’t know who Nick dates. You don’t know who Nick is attracted to. He had rolled on his side, arms clutching a pillow and his mind clutching the thought just as tightly.
What if…?
So what if, another voice hissed, dousing the warmth that had spread throughout Charlie’s limbs. So what if Nick wasn’t straight? He’s not going to fancy you. He’s going to fancy someone fit, someone whose body looks like you wish yours did. Nick’s going to fancy someone who’s not loaded with baggage and constantly in their head about their ex, their childhood, their mum, whatever. He’s not going to fancy a five.
Charlie groaned and turned on his stomach, burying his head in the pillows. It didn’t matter. Nick was straight. Nick was straight and there was nothing that was going to change that.
-
“Is Nick straight?”
Charlie whipped his head around to stare at Elle, who was holding a small glass figure of a ballerina. The two of them were in a small curio shop in town while Tao walked around with his camera, snapping a few photos of some locations that he thought may be good for future shoots. “What?”
Elle held up the figurine, the glass sparkling in the sunlight. “I think Tara would love this,” she said, twirling the ballerina in her fingers. “I’m going to buy it for her.”
“Wait, sorry, why did you ask that about Nick?” Charlie asked, the question coming out more like a demand than he meant for it to.
Elle carefully set down another blown glass piece that she had been looking at, her brown eyes meeting Charlie’s. “Has…anything happened between the two of you?”
Charlie gaped at her, eyebrows drawn together so severely that he probably looked like Sam the Eagle from The Muppets. “No! Why…what makes you think - did he say something? I-”
Elle held up her hands in surrender. “No, he didn’t say anything to me. And sorry - I didn’t mean it to sound like I was trying to pry. His sexuality is totally his own. I just…” she looked at Charlie, head tilted to the side. “He’s so attentive to you. His eyes are almost always on you. He…” She shrugged. “I’ve never seen someone looking at another person like that in a platonic way.”
“He…we’re friends,” Charlie blurted out, his heart hammering. He had no idea why he felt so hot and worked up. Maybe it was because it was something he wanted so badly - it almost ached to have someone else imagining the same thing. “He…his eyes aren’t always on me.” Were they? No. No - not any more than Charlie’s eyes were on Nick. Though that wasn’t a fair comparison, as Charlie had a massive crush on Nick. Could Nick…? No. No! No, right? No.
“Okay,” said Elle evenly, nodding.
“We’re just friends,” Charlie added as they went to the till, Elle nodding again and making a small mm sound. “Nick and I are friends. Nothing’s happened between us. Just friends.”
“Got it,” said Elle as they made their way over to where Tao said he was, Charlie trailing a little behind Elle’s shoulder.
“But…” Charlie quickened his pace to catch up to Elle, hovering near her shoulder. “Are you sure that…You - so you just thought that? Nick didn’t say anything to you to make you think that?”
“No, Nick didn’t say anything,” Elle said patiently, in a voice that Charlie thought she might also use with child clients. “And I shouldn’t have said anything, either. It was unfair of me to make assumptions.”
“...What were your assumptions based on, though?” Charlie asked, unable to stop himself.
“Just what I said before, and - hey, babe.”
“Hey!” Tao greeted them, showing Elle a picture on his camera. “There are some incredible spots here.” He glanced up at the sun, then down at his watch. “Can we head back to the inn? I’d love to catch the golden hour for some photos there. I have a client who wants to shoot a commercial coming up and I feel like there may be some options there.”
“That sounds amazing!” Elle enthused, turning to Charlie. “Do you think Nick and his mum might be interested?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said distractedly, getting in the backseat of the car and pulling on his seatbelt. His mind was entirely still in motion, Elle’s words dancing around.
He’s so attentive to you. What did that even mean? Just that…like…Nick paid attention to Charlie? People pay attention to their friends. That didn’t mean anything. Friends were attentive to friends.
His eyes are always on you. Well, Charlie was the only person at Lavender Fields a lot of the time who wasn’t a stranger, of course Nick would look at him. People had to look at people who they were talking to, and Nick and Charlie talked.
I’ve never seen someone looking at someone else like that in a platonic way. That was – well. That was…
The hugs.
The drums.
The looks.
The dancing.
Those were platonic. They had to be. Those were just the things that Nick did, probably with all of his friends. Those were totally platonic.
Platonic.
-
Charlie’s mind had settled at least a bit by the time they got to Lavender Fields, though his heart rate still skyrocketed when Nick gave him a wave from one of the fields, his hand shading his eyes.
“Pictures,” Tao murmured, wandering away onto the property with his camera clutched in his hands.
“We’ll get the bags,” Charlie called to his retreating back. Tao gave a jaunty salute in response and Charlie snorted, unloading the car with Elle. The two of them took out the groceries and trinkets that Elle had picked up, golden light spilling in the kitchen window.
“It looks gorgeous,” said Elle, looking out the window. “Oh - oh my god,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.
“What?”
“Look.” Elle pointed out the window where they could just see Nick with his hands in his pockets, Tao taking pictures. Charlie burst out laughing and Elle joined in too. “We should probably go rescue him. Can you imagine how badly Tao is bullying him right now?”
“‘Now, make a fist. Slowly ease it up underneath your chin’,” Charlie quoted from Napoleon Dynamite, the two of them dissolving into giggles. “Oh god, we do need to save him.”
“Definitely,” Elle agreed, already digging in her bag. “I wanted to go out anyway to draw, I have to take advantage of how beautiful this light is. See you in a bit?”
“See you soon,” Charlie replied. He hurried upstairs and changed into a thick jumper, then went outside to rescue the fair princess Nick from the evil dragon Tao. Nick’s back was to Charlie as he approached and Charlie grinned, imagining the look of mild panic on Nick’s face. He was a little surprised that Elle wasn’t there yet, assuming she’d had a head start while he had changed.
“Charlie!” called Tao, Nick jumping a little and turning to look at Charlie.
Charlie smiled, amused at the look of utter relief on Nick’s face. “Are you Tao’s newest muse?” he asked, directing the question at Nick.
Nick laughed and Tao narrowed his eyes at Charlie. “I’m checking out the light. And this is perfect; I need bodies. Charlie, go over there with Nick so I can take some more test shots.”
Charlie glanced around, heart skipping a beat at the idea of standing close to Nick when his mind was already busy imagining a Nick who might like him more than a friend. “Where’s Elle?”
“Down by the water in the gazebo,” Nick replied, eyes on Charlie. Eyes on Charlie. Not that that meant anything.
“Honestly, Nick, I think that your mum would do well with weddings here, too. Or like, engagement shoots or perfume commercials or whatever,” said Tao, his hands on his hips as he looked around. “I can just imagine that with the lavender in bloom, there’d be a really romantic vibe that would fit a lot of visions.” He snapped his fingers at Charlie a few times. “Charlie, go over there and stand next to Nick so I can take some couples shots.”
Couple’s shots? With the likely unrequited love of Charlie’s life? In front of Tao? Oh god, it was Charlie’s nightmare and fantasy all at once. “Why don’t I go get Elle?”
Tao was already shaking his head. “No! She’s all the way across the property; the light is going to fade literally in the next few minutes. You two just - stand in.” Charlie stood frozen and Tao nearly dislocated his eyes, rolling them. “God, Charlie, don’t be so heteronormative,” Tao said dismissively, Charlie not even getting the chance to squawk in protest. Tao pointed accusatorily at Nick. “And don’t tell me you won’t take pictures with a man.”
Nick blushed furiously, matching the shade that Charlie knew was on his own cheeks. “No! It’s not –”
“Then get over there,” said Tao with a huff, waving the camera in a vaguely threatening way at the two of them.
Charlie slowly made his way over to Nick like a man condemned to crush-having hell. He stood awkwardly next to Nick, their shoulders bumping one another’s. Charlie wondered if his heart was physically beating through his jumper like a cartoon character’s.
Tao sighed like he’d never come across such idiocy in all his years. “Like a couple, please. I told you, I want to take some test shots and I need to see if the light is blocked or anything.” He rolled his eyes again and pushed against Nick’s chest to face him with his back to the house. Then Tao pushed Charlie back, too, his back pressing against Nick’s chest. Charlie stared hard at Tao, trying to decide between attempting to set him on fire with his gaze or call angels down from the heavens to thank him for this forced cuddle session. Tao stepped back and rolled his eyes once more. “Arms around Charlie, now, Nick,” he commanded.
Charlie tried not to breathe as Nick tentatively reached up and touched his fingers to Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie felt entirely wooden, his arms hanging by his sides like poorly tacked-on doll limbs.
Tao looked at the two of them murderously, like they were attempting to kill his soul with their poor modelling. “Have the two of you ever seen a couple?” he demanded. He stomped over and wrapped one of Nick’s arms around Charlie’s chest, the other on Charlie’s waist. He moved Charlie’s hands so that each one rested on one of Nick’s arms. Charlie felt like he was both burning up from the inside out and encased in ice at the same time. Nick’s arms were around him, and Charlie was pressed back into Nick. Their bodies were close, and Charlie was entirely aware of the muscles of Nick’s thigh grazing his arse. He tried very very very hard to be less aware of that, though. “There,” said Tao with exasperation, shaking his head in disappointment at the humans in front of him. He fiddled with his camera, properly ignoring the two of them for a moment.
Charlie breathed as shallowly as possible, torn between glee at being with Nick like this and the absolute, spleen-shrivelling mortification of Nick being forced to snuggle with Charlie against his will. He felt Nick’s chest rise and fall behind him, Nick clearly taking a long, slow breath in.
“Are you okay with this?” Charlie heard Nick ask, his mouth so close to Charlie’s ear that Charlie could feel his breath on the tiny hairs of his earlobe. It was far fucking hotter than it should have been. This whole thing was…well, it was bizarre and forced and strange, but it was also Nick holding Charlie. It was Charlie’s body pressed against Nick in ways that he’d fantasised about. And Nick…Nick seemed okay?
Charlie relaxed a little in his arms and turned his head to whisper back. “Yes, totally fine,” he said. “Are you?”
“Yeah,” Nick replied back, his voice low as the two of them tried to stay clear of Tao’s ire. Then his arms tightened just perceptibly around Charlie and there was a clear grin in his tone. “You’re my human shield in case a giant man-rabbit comes out of the woods; I am great.”
Charlie snorted and pressed back a little against Nick’s chest as he laughed, trying to smother the sound. “I see what I am to you. A human sacrifice!”
“And warmth,” said Nick, his arms wrapping a little tighter around Nick. Charlie suppressed every sound that tried to steal out of his throat, though it took a Herculean effort. “I’m not just using you for protection. I’m using you for biological survival.”
Charlie laughed again. Nick was comfortable with this. Nick was okay with this. And if Nick was okay with this, Charlie was okay with this. He relaxed a bit more, readjusting his hands on top of Nick’s arms. “I –”
“Okay, now look at me,” said Tao loudly, holding up his camera. He snapped picture after picture of Nick and Charlie, directing them to turn certain ways or have them change their positions. As they turned and posed as instructed by the semi-benevolent dictator in front of them, Charlie didn’t even need to be told to smile. It felt like it was etched on his face. The golden sunlight was illuminating Nick from every angle and he was glowing, a physical manifestation of the way he made Charlie feel. He desperately wondered at one point if Tao might have them pretend to get engaged or tilt their heads towards one another as if they were going to kiss. Charlie didn’t know if that thought terrified him or delighted him more.
It was nearly dark, and Tao’s voice cut through the dying light. “Okay, get back to how you started, yeah. Charlie, back to Nick’s front. Nick, arms around Charlie. Like you mean it. Good, yes, okay, that. Charlie, settle your hands and we’ll take the last ones.”
Nick and Charlie both moved into position, both of them inured to the photographic commands at this point. Nick slid behind Charlie and wrapped his arms around Charlie’s body. It felt…god. It felt like Nick wasn’t even forcing it; like Nick wasn’t just a reluctant participant. It felt - authentic. It felt like everything Charlie had fantasised about, even though it was all an act. Even if it was an act, Charlie was going to melt into the moment. “Kiss joy as it flies,” went a line from one of Charlie’s favourite poems, one by William Blake. He’d kiss this joy as it flew by, soaking in the magical moment of Nick holding him like it meant something. Charlie rested his hands on Nick’s, mentally willing the sweat to evaporate from his palms.
“Charlie, turn and look at Nick,” Tao commanded, and Charlie did. He gave Nick a grin and rolled his eyes in Tao’s direction, hoping Nick couldn’t feel how hard Charlie’s heart was hammering in his chest. Nick sniffed out a laugh through his nose and Charlie smiled again.
“Nick, look at Charlie,” said Tao sternly, looking through the viewfinder.
Nick gave Charlie an “I told you we’d get in trouble,” look and Charlie laughed again before settling his eyes on Nick’s. Charlie’s stomach tightened in a tingly, pleasant thrill. Nick’s arms were around him and Charlie’s hands were on Nick’s and their eyes were on one another’s. The look on Nick’s face, the look in his eyes…
Nick was paying attention to him.
Nick seemed like he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie.
Nick was looking at Charlie in a way…in a way that didn’t feel entirely platonic.
Charlie’s heart jumped, heart feeling like it was skipping a beat. Could Nick…was it possible that maybe this wasn’t all in his head? Was it possible…
Was it possible that some of this… could be real?
Notes:
I was craving lemon chicken soup the other night and this one was amazing! This is an Avgolemono recipe that I found online.
Ingredients:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
1 medium carrot, diced
2-3 celery stalks, diced
2-3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 bay leaves
2 chicken breasts (about 12 oz / 350 g total)
6 cups (1.5 liter) chicken stock
¾ cup (175 g) orzo
Juice of 1 lemon
2 egg yolks
As much fresh dill as you want
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to tasteHeat the olive oil in a large stock pot or Dutch oven and cook the onion, carrot and celery for 8-10 minutes over medium heat until softened.
Add the garlic and cook for another minute, then add the bay leaves, chicken and chicken stock. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to medium-low, cover with a lid and simmer for 15 minutes.
Take out the chicken breasts and bay leaves. Shred the chicken with two forks and add it back to the pot.Add the orzo to the pot and continue to cook for 10 minutes. While the orzo is cooking, whisk the egg yolks and lemon juice in a bowl. Take out 1-2 ladles of soup and pour it into the eggs so they don't scramble in your soup. Add this mix to the pot and continue to cook for 5 minutes.
Stir in the fresh dill, adjust the seasoning and serve immediately!
Next week is a Danny and James week 💜
Chapter 43: Charlie's POV: Fires
Summary:
Elle, Tao, Nick, and Charlie spend some time together. Charlie meets Queen Sarah. The boys get close to talking before SOMEONE ruins it.
Notes:
I wish I could make a semi-grainy, 80s-style music video expressing my appreciation for Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork. My hair would be SO poofy, my shoulders would be SO padded, and my love would be SO ballad-esque. I love you both.
I have to shout out Sowing Wild Lavender again - it is almost complete and follows Sarah on her travels and shag-gles around the world. No one tell Nick.
Also - I cannot get over the podfic excerpts that songbird3724 is making. They have made a whole podfic with selections from Lavender Fields and their talent is so amazing. They also did one chapter with a group and the whole thing is *udderly* delightful!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
No.
No, right?
No, Nick didn’t like him like that. Nope. There was no way that Nick liked Charlie in the way that Charlie liked Nick. That stomach-twisting, rib-cracking way that made Charlie yearn to be close and to have their bodies touching. Nick hadn’t felt like his life had started anew when they had been entwined in each others’ arms, smiling at Tao’s camera. Charlie was gay, and Nick was straight.
Maybe Nick was bi?
No. No, that was Charlie’s desperate brain. That was the invention of Charlie’s brain in the dizzying hours after the photoshoot from hell/heaven, his mind continually tugging him back to what it felt like when their bodies were close together. After both of them had gotten past the initial awkwardness, Nick’s body had felt loose and relaxed. His arms had shifted casually on Charlie’s body, resting on Charlie’s biceps or draping across his shoulders as Tao barked out instructions. Nick had pulled Charlie close in between shots, whispering something about Tao using a “Xu-m” lens and making Charlie snort. Charlie stumbled back into the house after it was all done, feeling like a newly born giraffe on wobbly legs. Charlie found it hard to focus on the conversation as he stood in the kitchen, entirely aware of how much distance he should maintain from Nick.
“I mean, look at it,” Tao was saying, nodding his head appreciatively as he shoved the camera close to Elle’s face.
Elle laughed, pushing the camera away a little. “I can’t see it, babe. I can’t physically look at anything when it’s that close to my face.” She gave Tao a saucy grin and Tao shot her a warm one back, one of those tiny private looks they always exchanged that made Charlie feel irrationally lonely. She looked back at the camera and then up at Nick and Charlie. “Wow. These are great pictures of both of you.”
Tao took the camera back out of her hands, rolling his eyes. “No, the backdrop,” he said, clearly zooming in and pointing to his screen. “I mean, the way the light is lighting up the woods is incredible. Doesn’t it look like it’s on fire?” Charlie felt like his skin was on fire and he physically leaned back, realising how close he had gotten to Tao in an attempt to look at the pictures of him and Nick. Charlie wanted to see them so badly. He wanted to see what it looked like to have his and Nick’s bodies tucked together, bathed in the light that had made Charlie feel so warm. He also felt an anxious twist in his chest at the thought of seeing the pictures. Charlie wasn’t entirely sure he’d survive seeing the pictures. It might be too painful to have a visual of the life that Charlie so desperately wished for – the one that he’d never have.
Elle caught Charlie’s eye and grinned and Charlie smiled back a beat late, blushing as he felt her eyes on his face. “Oh, yes, my mistake,” Elle said in a tone that only a two-decade-long friend would immediately recognise as sarcasm. “The backdrop and the rule of thirds you capture are far more important than the humans standing in front of us.” Charlie saw her look at the camera and then at Nick, a look on her face that he couldn’t quite parse.
“You get it,” Tao murmured, totally immersed in his camera in a way that was so fondly familiar that Charlie had to smile to himself despite how jittery he felt. Tao looked up at Nick. “I’ll share the folder of these with you in the next few weeks so that you can show your mum and see if she’s interested in opening this place up to some shoots.”
Charlie glanced at Nick, who was nodding, his cheeks looking flushed. Was that from the cold? Was that from being outside - still? Or was that flush something about the pictures? No, Charlie was being stupid. Charlie was being endlessly stupid. “That’s… yeah,” Nick said, his voice trailing off. He briefly met Charlie’s eyes and they both looked away. Charlie looked at Nick once more, the flush still evident on Nick’s neck.
The photoshoot hadn’t been a big deal, Charlie said to himself as the conversation shifted to food - as in Tao asking (demanding) to know what was for supper that night. It hadn’t been a big deal. None of the things that Charlie had fixated on for the last few weeks had been a big deal. All of this was normal, totally normal.
The rest of the night was indeed normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Normal sweating whenever Charlie was next to Nick. Normal feeling like his heart was about to explode out of his chest whenever they were close. Normal dancing fingers up Charlie’s spine when Nick sat next to him on the sofa, so close that Charlie thought he could feel the heat coming off the massive, muscular, rugby-playing body.
The four of them ended up watching The Birdcage after some successful psychological manipulation of Tao. With Elle on the sofa as well, Nick was closer than usual to Charlie, and Charlie had to control his breathing. Sometimes when they watched television or a film together Nick would laugh and lay his hand on Charlie’s arm or lean into Charlie’s body. He didn’t do that tonight, though, and Charlie caught himself wondering if Nick perhaps did feel weird about the afternoon. That cloying anxiety eased a bit when he and Nick said goodnight to one another, Nick pulling him in close for an embrace. Yes, Nick had also embraced Elle and also moved towards Tao like he might hug him too (though he had seemed to wisely think better of it in the end). Still - Nick’s hug with Elle wasn’t as long as the way he had hugged Charlie. His hug with Elle wasn’t one where he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close, drawing her in and slightly up. Charlie hadn’t seen Nick’s thumb rub against her back for a fraction of a second the way he had felt on his own body.
That was normal though. It was normal that Nick would hug him longer. Charlie was closer with Nick; they were good friends. All of this was normal, including Charlie’s… pre-bedtime activities. It was all normal.
-
Charlie and Tao went into town early the next morning to pick up breakfast sandwiches and coffees for everyone, Charlie not even bothering to ask what Nick wanted. He knew: Nick would want a vanilla oat milk latte with one fewer espresso shot than they normally put in (but it was fine to charge him the normal amount) and an egg sandwich with turkey sausage and gouda cheese. Tao was predictably grumpy at the early hour, mumbling about discounts and “half of the identifying features of a bed and breakfast being the owner making breakfast.” When Charlie reminded him that it was actually Elle’s idea to give Nick the morning off from making food for them, Tao just scowled and turned the radio up.
The inside of the house felt even warmer than normal when Charlie walked in, both Elle and Nick’s voices calling out in greeting - Nick’s from the kitchen and Elle’s from the dining room. The guests from that morning had apparently already cleared off, the dining room empty. Tao went off to greet Elle and Charlie went into the kitchen, arms full with the large pastry box he’d impulsively purchased when he’d smelled the freshly-baked pain au chocolat at the bakery.
Nick inhaled deeply, leaning his head over the box. The movement of his head sent the scent of his hair products wafting towards Charlie and he gripped the box tighter, hoping the flaky pastries could help him firm up his legs. “Oh, these look incredible!” He looked at Charlie, face soft. “How did you know that pain au chocolat was my favourite breakfast pastry?”
Charlie blushed and stepped back before he was tempted to run his fingers through Nick’s perfect hair. “Oh, well - you mentioned it ages ago…”
Nick smiled despite Charlie’s bumbling non-answer. He stepped a fraction closer to Charlie, so close that Charlie could now pick up his cologne, the one that made the front of Charlie’s thighs tingle. “Thank you,” he said softly, looking at the pastries and then back at Charlie.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his mouth dry. He felt dizzy, disoriented. Why was Nick looking at him like that? Why were they so close? Why did it seem like Nick had moved to be close to Charlie again? Why was Charlie’s brain continuing to torture him with things like this? Why was Nick looking at Charlie in such a heartbreakingly gentle and perfect way? Why-
Charlie was saved by Elle and Tao moving into the dining room, the sliding of the wooden chairs over the polished plank floor rousing Charlie and unfreezing him. Nick looked momentarily startled before grinning, the tips of his ears red. “Breakfast?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Charlie said again. He paused in the kitchen and took a deep breath to steady himself before following Nick into the dining room.
Thank fuck he had, because Elle and Tao had apparently independently decided to make that morning the morning of telling Nick every embarrassing thing that Charlie had ever done. And Elle and Charlie had been friends since they were in primary school, so she had plenty of material.
Nick was laughing uproariously at the story that Elle told of Charlie being knocked out of the school spelling bee and slumping on his chair, glaring at the teacher so hard that he’d had a headache for the rest of the day.
“I’d just read Matilda,” Charlie said, blushing furiously but laughing, too. Nick’s laugh was just so infectious. “I was convinced I could, like, levitate her and whack her over the head with the chalk or something.”
“One of the best memories,” Elle grinned, her eyes sparkling with delight and mischief.
“Tell him about the cat thing, Elle!” Tao enthused, more traitorously eager than Charlie had ever seen him get about anything that wasn’t Oscar bait.
“Oh, we don’t have to tell that one –” Charlie started, realising with a panic what story this one was.
“I’m sure this has nothing to do with you,” Nick said in a falsely reassuring voice, patting Charlie’s shoulder theatrically.
Elle snorted and laughed loudly. “Oh, that had to be my favourite thing about Year Four!” She giggled again, eyes crinkling as Charlie debated self-immolation. “That Charlie Spring went an entire year insisting that he was a cat named Ruby during playtime, and made us call him that, too.”
“Okay, that is not true –”
“He made this adorable ‘prrpp’ sound,” Elle continued through her chuckles.
Tao made what Charlie had to admit was an impressive approximation of a cat sound, Nick leaning his head back and laughed.
“No I didn’t! You’re making all of this –”
Tao was grinning broadly, arms crossed as he looked at Charlie. “Didn’t you say he’d lap at the water fountain for a solid month?” Charlie lurched out of his chair and went towards Elle to try to do whatever was necessary to get the stories to stop. Tao grabbed the spray bottle that Nick kept to mist the indoor plants off the table and held it threatening at Charlie. “Don’t make me use operant conditioning,” he said, waving the bottle at Charlie. “I have a bottle of feline-repellant and I’m willing to use it.”
Nick was laughing so hard he was crying. Charlie was laughing too as he struggled towards Elle, Tao hitting him with one blast of the water bottle.
Elle was giggling as she leaned away from Charlie, trying to escape his grasp. “He even used to rub his cheek against the fence and made our teacher –”
Charlie finally got a hand over Elle’s mouth. “And that’s enough,” he said loudly. Elle pushed his hand away with a laugh and then hugged him, Charlie rolling his eyes but his whole body feeling warm. He was with three of his favourite people in the world and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Fun that was tinged with dick-shrivelling embarrassment, yes, but still fun.
Nick had literal tears in his eyes, and he brushed them away as he addressed Elle. His giant muscular amazing bulky shoulders (that Charlie barely noticed) were still heaving with laughter. “Elle,” he said. “Thank you for the gift that you just gave me. Charlie, I wish you had told me; I would have set up a bed by the heater and gotten you one of those little toys with a feather you could chase around if I had known it would make you happy.” Charlie grinned and forced himself to roll his eyes as Elle and Tao snickered. Nick smiled directly at Charlie, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe that would make you less… catatonic.”
Charlie groaned and pressed his hands over his face. “I hate everything.”
“Such cat energy,” Tao deadpanned, and Nick burst out laughing again. Even with his face covered, Charlie could pick out that laugh anywhere in the world. Charlie glanced up to see Tao looking at Nick with something close to a smile. Then Tao nodded briskly, pulling out his phone and standing up. “Elle, we need to head back soon.” He looked away from her and over at Charlie. “You’re coming back this morning too, right?”
Charlie nodded, a dull glum feeling sitting now in his chest and squashing his joy. He really, really loved his time at Lavender Fields, and this go round had felt even more special. Nick had done so much to make sure that Elle and Tao felt welcome and had made a specific effort to be friendly with them. It almost…it almost made Charlie feel guilty in a way. Here was Nick, in his own home - and he was working to get Charlie’s friends to like him? That was all backwards. Beyond the edge of guilt, Charlie was just sad to be leaving. He liked being here. He liked being with Nick. He liked having so many of the people who made him feel alive and wonderful in one place, surrounded by trees and sky and cows.
Elle stood up, interrupting Charlie’s train of thought. “I’m packed,” she said to Tao, then nodded towards the innkeeper who was unknowingly keeping Charlie’s heart in his massive strong arms. “I’ll settle up with Nick and meet you upstairs in a minute?”
“Sounds good,” Tao agreed, and Charlie trailed behind him to go to his own room and pack what he needed for the two-day trip back to London.
Charlie was picking through his things to decide what he wanted to bring home versus keep at Lavender Fields. He had just put a cerulean sweater in the “stay” pile, thinking of how he’d half-imagined Nick’s eyes lingering on him the last time he wore it when Tao came in, staring at his camera.
Tao was using his thumb to advance through images, shaking his head as if in awe. “You’re going to love these pictures I took, Charlie,” he said. “They really do look incredible.”
Without Nick there to see Charlie looking like a total goober and mooning over the pictures of the two of them together, Charlie went and stood by Tao’s shoulder. Tao flipped through some of the shots, zooming in on the background and extolling the contrast and settings and Charlie did not care. His eyes were drawn to the people in the images. To him. To Nick.
The pictures did hurt Charlie’s heart a little, like he had feared. He could feel a keening sense travelling through his body as he looked at the pictures, his chest heavy and aching. It felt so good and right and soul-quenching to see him and Nick tucked together like that, arms around each other and smiling. It felt gutting and eviscerating and hollow to see those pictures and imagine what Charlie might have to settle for instead. It was physically painful to imagine a future that didn’t have love that made him feel the way that Charlie did in Nick’s arms, clearly visible on Nick’s face.
Nick’s face…
While Tao zoomed and chattered and pointed things out to Charlie, Charlie’s eyes stayed locked onto Nick. In every picture, Nick looked relaxed, his body around Charlie’s. In the pictures where the two of them were looking at the camera, Nick’s head was always inclined towards Charlie’s, leaning closer than Charlie had even realised when they were standing there. In the photos where they were looking at each other, the look on Nick’s face was soft. Happy. Attentive. And as Tao continued going through the shots, Charlie spotted picture after picture where he was looking at the camera. Charlie was looking at the camera, and Nick –
Nick was looking at Charlie.
Nick was looking at Charlie, the expression on his face one that made Charlie’s breath catch. In one of the pictures, Tao zoomed in on a spot in the background, pointing out how the light spilling out behind the barn would make an incredible commercial shot. Charlie nodded and mhmm-ed in the way that he had learned to during Film Monologue Loops (a term that Charlie and Elle had created for when Tao would go on a tangent, their own personal brand of ‘FML’), but his mind was elsewhere. The way the camera was zoomed in left Charlie and Nick’s faces in shot, and the zoom allowed Charlie to really see Nick’s face.
In the picture, Charlie looked fondly annoyed, clearly caught mid-eyerolling-laugh at something Tao had said or done. This was one of the shots where he had been in front of Nick, Nick’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s torso. Charlie was pointing one of his fingers at Tao in friendly accusation, frozen in animated and cheerful disapproval. Behind him, Nick had pulled away slightly to look at Charlie, head turned and tilted slightly down to take in his face. Tao spoke, but all Charlie could focus on was what Nick’s face looked like. Nick was looking at Charlie, and the way he felt was almost heartstopping. Nick’s smile was genuine and gentle, the beam of it pointed at Charlie. His smile was one thing, but his eyes… his eyes were something else entirely.
Nick’s eyebrows were drawn together slightly - not in the way of concern or annoyance or confusion. Instead, he was looking at Charlie with such a look of softness that it made Charlie’s heart squeeze painfully. The way Nick was looking at Charlie in those pictures, it made… It made Charlie think…
“–Don’t you think?” Tao broke into Charlie’s consciousness.
Charlie dragged his eyes away from the camera. “... I, uh – yes. Yeah. Definitely.” He had no idea what he was agreeing to.
“I know,” Tao nodded as if to himself. “I’ll see what I can do with some of the shoots we have coming up.” He glanced up at Charlie briefly and then back at his camera, totally immersed once more. When he spoke, he sounded distracted and absent, mind back on his work. “Thanks for modelling.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes. “I feel like I really had a choice. Me and Nick.”
“Well, I needed subjects.”
“You could have gotten Elle!”
“I think you were just fine with it,” Tao said, not looking up. There was a pause as he advanced through some other shots. “Nick didn’t seem bothered, either.”
Charlie sighed quietly to himself. He had been thinking the same thing.
-
The next two days dragged by even slower than normal. When Charlie went back to Lavender Fields that week, Nick’s mum would be there. The Sarah Nelson would be there. The woman who birthed and raised the most stupidly perfect man in the world would be in the same house as Charlie, and Charlie could not wait. He wanted to ask her a million questions. Charlie was excited and apprehensive. He’d built up an image of Sarah, one that he imagined a mum could and should be like. Charlie knew that he needed to temper his expectations, learning from a lifetime of living with Jane Spring. Even so, Charlie’s eagerness overrode his anxiety. Charlie wanted to meet Nick’s mum, but perhaps even more so, he wanted to see what Nick was like with his mum.
Charlie saw little of Elle and Tao for the next few days as Elle had an art event on Sunday and Tao spent the day in his studio working on the pictures from Lavender Fields. They’d managed to get a quick supper in together on Monday night. Charlie caught Elle’s eyes on him a few times during the meal, but every time he looked at her, her focus was back on her food. There was something in her smile when she hugged him goodbye on Tuesday morning that made Charlie want to stop and ask her what was up, but she bustled off, saying she was late and had to go.
Charlie drove to Lavender Fields on Tuesday after work, heart thumping in his chest the closer he got. He had been excited to get to Lavender Fields - and still was - but as he drew nearer, Charlie felt the anxiety raise back up. With Sarah there, would he and Nick still have time in the evening to have their chats? Would there be the same light silliness and laughter that there was when it was just the two of them? Charlie thought of the effect that Jane had on the humour of a room, some of the air immediately escaping. He couldn’t imagine that a relative of Nick Nelson would be anything less than wonderful, but then again, Charlie had heard about Nick’s brother and dad.
He took a deep breath as he turned onto the road that brought him right to Lavender Fields. Even if things were different with someone else there, things would be the same between him and Nick. Nick had shown Charlie again and again how kind he was, and how included he made Charlie feel. Charlie had to believe that no matter how much time he and Nick had together this week, it would be the same as it always was.
Well, mostly. Charlie felt another twinge in his chest as he pulled into the Lavender Fields drive, a twist of aching, utterly hopeless hope. He thought of the hug from a few weeks ago. The way Nick had sat with him when the four of them had watched a movie. The pictures he and Nick had taken together and the look on Nick’s face. The way… that Nick Nelson was already at his car door, face glowing as he pulled Charlie out of the car and swept him into an embrace.
Charlie laughed in surprise when Nick authentically lifted him off his feet, giving Charlie an odd sense of weightlessness alongside the feeling of being entirely grounded: he was back where he was supposed to be. Nick set him down and Charlie pushed playfully at Nick’s chest.
“Christ, Nicholas, I know you’re strong, no need to prove it!” Nick’s pec under his hand was heavenly: firm and soft at the same time.
Nick laughed and it was the same gorgeous sound that Charlie loved to hear. He was already moving, opening Charlie’s door and grabbing his things. “Come onnnn,” Nick urged, tugging at Charlie’s sleeve like a six year old. “Come on come on come on come on, mum’s here!”
Nick’s silly eagerness to get inside was infectious, and Charlie stopped where he was, feet planted wide. He giggled and leaned back in an approximation of one of the cows. “Nope,” he said, standing stock-still. “I’m like Henry when it snows. Impossible to move.”
“Moo-ve,” Nick corrected in what Charlie had to assume was an autonomic reaction, the grin clear in his voice. He leaned his shoulder against Charlie’s back and pushed him forward, both of them laughing. Charlie felt warm and happy, utterly content now that he was with Nick again.
Charlie dropped the act and followed Nick into the house, empty-handed except for his rucksack, Nick having taken his bag as always. He took a deep breath as he trailed after Nick into the house, readying himself to meet Sarah.
Nick called into the house as they entered. “Mum, this is Charlie!”
A woman who looked to be in her fifties with brown hair and a kind face came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She and Nick didn’t have that instant “you must be related!” identicality to them, but the resemblance was clear in their expressions. Sarah smiled at Charlie in a way that made him feel like he was the most important person in the world. He was still fixated on how much her smile felt like Nick’s when he felt himself wrapped in her arms.
“Hello, Charlie!” Sarah greeted him as she gave Charlie a hug.
Charlie started a bit in surprise when she had embraced him, though honestly - he should have known. She was related to Nick; of course she was a hugger. “Oh, hello,” Charlie said with a small laugh to cover his surprise. He told himself consciously to soften and did for a moment before drawing back, feeling the blush on his own cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” said Sarah kindly, patting Charlie on the arm and then taking him in. Her gaze didn’t feel like one of judgement like when he met Ben’s mum. It felt like the gaze of a mother appreciating someone in her child’s life. Stop it, Charlie, this is not the same thing, Charlie chided himself. It’s not like you’re meeting the mother of someone you’re dating. Before he could ruminate more on that, Sarah gave him another brilliant smile, stepping back. “You have such wonderful blue eyes,” she said. “They look so bright against that sweater you’re wearing!”
Oh, thought Charlie, a little wildly. Okay. So apparently now we know where AI-created Nick Nelson and his unrelenting perfection came in. He was developed by the perfect AI mothership, the HRMS Nelson. “Thanks,” Charlie said, knowing he probably sounded stilted and awkward and pathetically pleased. “I grew them myself.”
Sarah’s laugh was like Nick’s, bright and full. “Oh, you’re lovely, Charlie,” said Sarah, sending him a glowing look before looking at Nick and turning her adoration on him. “Nicky speaks so highly of you.”
Charlie felt momentarily frozen, overwhelmed with two stunningly incredible things. One - that Nicky Nelson spoke about him? To his mum? And spoke so highly? Two - Nicky Nelson? This was even better than he imagined. Charlie suppressed the massive grin, shooting a cheeky look at Nick as he did. “Nicky has been a lovely host,” he said, widening his eyes innocently. Nick let out an adorable little huff, the tips of his ears red now.
Sarah turned to Nick with the supersonic hearing of a mother. She grinned at her son. “I’m allowed to call you whatever I want, baby, do you know how many youth rugby matches I sat through for you?”
“Fair,” Nick laughed ruefully, and Charlie grinned.
The three of them walked into the kitchen and Charlie went straight to the sink, washing his hands to help get ready as he normally did. “What can I help with, Mrs. Nelson?”
Nick’s mum turned her head to look at Charlie, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Do you want to try that again?”
It took Charlie a beat to realise she was joking. He replayed what he had said in his head, realising what she was on about. “Sorry,” Charlie said with a light laugh to cover his awkwardness (again). “Sorry. Sarah . What can I help with, Sarah?”
Sarah nodded thoughtfully, hands on her hips. “Well, Nick is getting the pesto ready,” she said. “We’re absolutely making another pan of brownies tonight, both because you deserve to have them warm and because Nick and I ate or gave away all of them yesterday.” Here, she gave Charlie a quick wink. Charlie grinned, already feeling that magical ease that seemed to be a Nelson gift, spreading through his chest. She nodded towards the cabinet of binders. “Grab that blue one, dear, and I can tell you where everything is.”
Nick waved this off with his hand, shooting a grin at Charlie that made the temperature go up in the kitchen by about a thousand degrees. “Oh, Charlie knows.”
Charlie and Nick met gazes for a moment and smiled at one another, Charlie’s heart thrumming. 'Charlie knows'. Charlie knows where things are in the kitchen. Charlie and I cook together. Charlie and I spend hours together. He played Nick’s words and how casual and easy they sounded as the three of them worked together. Charlie was easily able to grab anything that Sarah needed, noticing that she stopped telling him where things were after a bit. They all chatted as they worked, Charlie asking a few questions about what Nick was like as a kid.
He learned that Nick had broken his arm falling out of a tree when he was eight and had needed to learn to write with his left hand for several months. He’d begged for a fountain pen as a ‘reward’ for writing that way, and Sarah had bought him one for his ninth birthday (“It was like I was raising a preteen lord,” Sarah chuckled). Charlie also found out that Nick had thought the phrase “hallowed ground” was actually “hollowed ground”, which had finally explained to Sarah why Nick goose-stepped so carefully whenever they had to go to church with their grandmother, afraid of the grass giving way beneath him. And Charlie also discovered that Nick became really interested in ventriloquism when he was ten, culminating in Nick actually having a fucking ventriloquism doll?!?!?! Charlie was asking a series of delighted and disbelieving questions when Nick turned the blender on high, restarting it every time Sarah tried to talk again. Charlie had tears of laughter in his eyes as they wrapped up making the meal, his whole body feeling loose and relaxed.
Sarah plated dinner for each of them and handed out the dishes, the three of them settling at the table. Charlie waited to make sure that Sarah had started eating first and then took a bite, unable to suppress a sound of pleasure. “Sarah, this is so good,” said Charlie, shaking his head in wonder. He couldn’t believe the texture that Sarah got on the pasta. “How did you learn how to make gnocchi?”
Sarah smiled at him warmly. “Thank you,” she said, face glowing with pride. “I actually learned how to make gnocchi when I visited Italy near the start of my trip.”
“Did you take a cooking class?” asked Nick.
“No, I met a friend who taught me how to make gnocchi and a few other things when I was travelling,” Sarah said, eyes on her plate and not her son. There had been a pause before she said the word ‘friend’. Charlie swivelled his eyes over to Nick, whose eyebrows were drawn together in apprehensive calculation as if he was doing high maths. Charlie felt the corners of his own mouth tugging up. He bet that Sarah’s ‘friend’ taught her a few things. Maybe he taught her to roll all sorts of things in her hands.
Charlie tilted his head, trying to keep his voice and face innocent. “A friend?” he asked, smiling encouragingly at Sarah to try to get her to go on.
Charlie jumped when Nick’s voice boomed across the table. “I USED PECANS,” he half-bellowed. “Instead of pine nuts? In the pesto.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise at the outburst. She nodded and patted Nick reassuringly on the hand. “It’s delicious, love,” she said.
Charlie nodded in agreement, eyes wide and angelic. He caught Nick’s eye and let the corner of his mouth turn up. Nick pressed his lips together in a Leslie Knope-adjacent pout and shook his head at Charlie, though there was no heat behind it. Charlie suppressed a giggle and went back to listen to Sarah’s story, eyes flickering over to Nick’s whenever the conversation edged towards the people Sarah met on her travels.
The entire week was wonderful. Each morning Charlie went downstairs to find that Sarah or Nick had already made coffee, along with a baked good that was already in the oven. It seemed to be a friendly competition of who could out-host the other, and Charlie wasn’t too fussed to have to be the judge for it. Charlie worked during the day, though on every workday for the rest of the week, there would be a gentle rap on the door around lunchtime with either Sarah or Nick bringing him something to eat. They all had dinner together each evening, and to Charlie’s delight, he found Sarah just as engaging, welcoming, and friendly as Nick. The conversations flowed easily, and Charlie never had a twinge of discomfort around her. She hugged him goodnight every evening, and Charlie felt like he could melt into her embrace. It might have sounded trite, but Sarah was just so… motherly. She was what Charlie had wished for during some of his darkest teenage days - someone gentle, reassuring, and full of light. Sarah was wickedly funny, too - the same victimless humour that Charlie saw so often in Nick. One of Charlie’s favourite things was when he was exchanging silent, full conversations with either Sarah or Nick when the other one was talking, expressive eyes and faces communicating with each other.
As much as Charlie loved getting to spend time with Nick’s mum, he also loved that he and Nick still had their evenings together, too. Sarah went to bed fairly early most nights, and Charlie and Nick would stay up late talking with one another, Charlie soaking in every moment that he could get with Nick. When it was the three of them together, Charlie felt like he was wrapped in a warm blanket, something soothing, grounding, and comfortable. When it was just him and Nick in the evening hours, Charlie felt a different kind of heat - a smothering, rising sensation of flame lighting up his body.
Their nights together would look like all sorts of things, the two of them in the parlour as not to disturb Sarah. Sometimes they opened one of their iPads and watched something together, Nick occasionally leaning against Charlie’s shoulder to laugh at something, making Charlie’s breath catch in his chest. Or they’d sit on their phones, scrolling through Insta or their messages, laughing and showing one another the stupid memes and videos that they found. Mostly, though, they’d talk. They talked about everything. It would range from Charlie making innuendos about Sarah really feasting when she was in Italy to Nick talking about his parents’ divorce to Charlie sharing more about what it was like when he was outed in secondary.
Nick and Charlie would often be close on the sofa, their bodies facing one another. Charlie lost count of how many times Nick would lean over to briefly touch Charlie on the knee to make a point, or grab his arm when they were laughing at something. And every night, Nick hugged him. Nick hugged him and it was everything Charlie wanted and also nothing like what he wanted. Every day that went past with Nick, Charlie knew his feelings were growing stronger. Nick was soul-achingly, devastatingly incredible. Charlie quite literally couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have Nick look at him the way Charlie wanted him to. Well, then again - maybe he could, after seeing the soul-aching photos that Tao took. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Nick were to gently brush back Charlie’s hair. More than anything, Charlie couldn’t even conjure what it would be like for Nick to touch Charlie the way he fantasised about, with gentle, curious, wanting hands.
On Friday night, Charlie and Nick stayed up late. They’d watched the Badgers play a Friday evening match, Sarah joining Nick and Charlie to watch. Charlie had to hide a grin as he watched both Nick and his mum observing the game. They’d gasp and wince at the same plays, Sarah exclaiming in maternal concern at a hard tackle while Nick would launch into a muttering diatribe about the phase and what could have been changed. After the match ended, they’d spoken together with Sarah for a bit before she excused herself to bed. Charlie and Nick stayed up, half-watching a film together though they chatted through most of it.
Nick and Charlie were sharing a blanket as they watched the film, the timeless Forgetting Sarah Marshall, one that they actually elected to watch on streaming as opposed to a fine vintage Sarah Nelson VHS tape. Charlie and Nick were on the sofa, both of them near the middle of the sofa. Nick was both so close yet so far away, and Charlie felt like he imagined, over and over, that there were tiny movements from Nick. It was almost like… It was almost like Nick’s arm was about to twitch and reach out. Or that Nick was about to shift closer. Charlie wanted that. God, he wanted that so badly. His skin tingled and sparked when the two of them were on the sofa like this, tantalisingly close to one another.
As they watched the film, a scene came on where Jason Segel and Mila Kunis go to a bar together. Charlie thought of the bar nights that he and Elle and Tao had spent out, particularly those rowdy ones with Tara and Darcy in tow, too. They’d had absolutely wild nights in their early twenties, and Charlie smiled to himself thinking of how young, stupid, and fun they had been. They all still went to bars together, or dinners - it was more sedate, yes, but still a lot of fun.
Charlie glanced over at Nick as he laughed loudly at one of the movie lines, chest swelling with fondness for the perfect man sitting next to him. God, Charlie could spend every night with him. Well - Charlie was spending every night with him. Charlie frowned a little, looking back from the screen to Nick and then back again. Since Charlie had been there, Nick hadn’t gone out once at night without Charlie. Charlie had gone out - he had taken himself to dinner and gone on that ill-fated date with Steven. It had really only been those two times though; once he and Nick had started spending time together, it was all Charlie wanted to do.
He reflected on that now, mind roiling with the heat he could feel off Nick’s body (even if it was just in his mind), the wonders and confusion about the hug, the looks, the pictures, and if Nick felt trapped by Charlie being there. Not trapped, exactly - Charlie knew exactly what Nick would say if Charlie shared that. But maybe Nick felt pressured to stay at Lavender Fields with Charlie. Maybe Nick was looking at him the way Charlie imagined he was because he was pent up, desperate to spend time with someone. Charlie opened his mouth to ask Nick about it when Nick burst out laughing, rolling his head back in mirth and grabbing Charlie’s arm.
“Oh my god, I love this film,” Nick giggled, turning and smiling at Charlie with a truly glowing look. He sang, repeating the movie line, “‘Oh, the weather outside is weather…’” Charlie laughed, leaning his head against the couch. “God, I love Paul Rudd,” Nick said, shaking his head and looking back at the screen. Nick’s eyes were locked on Paul Rudd, a smile still firmly on his face.
Charlie thought again about asking Nick about him wanting some time to get to go out, but not now. Not tonight. Tonight he’d continue to sit just a fraction away from the man who made him feel more alive than he ever had.
-
Saturday turned out gorgeous, an unexpectedly beautiful late fall day. After chores and a delicious breakfast that Nick made (physically pushing Sarah away from the oven, both of them laughing), Charlie decided to go to the barn and do some drumming. It had been too cold and it felt great to be out, Nick tagging along, his cheeks pink from the cold. Sarah mentioned that she’d forgotten all of the things that were in the barn as Charlie was pulling on his layers to go outside, and she even joined them a bit later.
The day passed quickly, Charlie and Nick spending a few hours in the barn before a brisk wind picked up and the temperature dropped. They headed back inside to join Sarah, who had gone into the house much earlier to get ready for a dinner she was attending. Charlie made tea for himself and Nick, Sarah thanking him but saying that she didn’t want any as she was on her way out the door.
“Where are you off to again, mum?” asked Nick.
“Several of the vendors in town are having a get-together for me,” Sarah explained. “A little ‘Welcome back!’ gathering.”
Nick smiled. “That’s nice. What - did that just come up after your visit in town yesterday?” Sarah had gone with them into town the previous day. Charlie had desperately hoped that the three of them would all end up in that bloke Mark’s shop together. He would have loved to see Nick turn into a sultana before his very eyes if Nick had to experience his mum actively flirting, live and in person.
“Oh, no, darling,” said Sarah as she pulled on her coat. “We have a group chat and have been planning on it for a few weeks.”
Nick lifted his cup of tea, bringing it to his lips. “Are you all going anywhere fun?”
“It’s casual,” said Sarah. “It’s over at one of the shopkeeper’s homes – Mark’s.”
Charlie saw and heard Nick choke on his tea and Charlie had to clamp his own lips together, a strangled sound still squeaking out. Charlie tried to cover it with a cough and Nick shot him a look. Of course, a look from Nick Nelson was about as terrifying as being charged by a quokka, and Charlie smiled widely behind his teacup.
“That sounds great, mum.” Nick’s voice sounded forced, like the words were coming through his teeth. “I hope you have a lovely time.”
“Don’t stay out too late, Sarah,” Charlie said in a lilting tone, Nick’s eyes going wide glaring Nick-level-daggers at Charlie. So… about the same danger level as sporks, essentially. Charlie shot him a shadow of a wink and saw Nick huff, eyebrows drawn together.
Sarah laughed and touched Charlie’s cheek playfully as she left. “See you boys soon!”
Nick’s mum left and Charlie slowly turned to face Nick, who was looking as though a seagull had just swooped in and stolen the ice cream from his cone. Charlie smiled at Nick, toothy and beatific. “Nick.”
“Don’t.”
“Nick.”
“Charlie, I will build a tiny sacrificial fire and host a seance to get the portrait people to jam all of your kitchen drawers a little bit for the rest of your life, I swear to you.”
Charlie laughed at the perfectly non-destructive and gentle threat of the perfect man he was sitting next to. “You monster.”
Nick flopped his head back on the sofa and laughed loudly, dropping any semblance of a pretend glare. “You’re the monster! ‘Oh, have so much fun, Sarah’,” cooed Nick, in an absolutely horrendous imitation of Charlie’s voice. “‘Don’t stay out too late, Sarah. Make good decisions, Sarah’.” Nick crossed his arms and harrumphed. “You may as well have handed her a bottle and encouraged her to give it a spin when she got there.”
Charlie threw his head back and laughed, then got up and stomped around the room like he was holding a protest sign. “Let Sarah snog,” he chanted. “Let Sarah snog!”
Nick moaned and pushed his face into the sofa. “Let Nick lose his hearing.”
Charlie giggled and settled back down on the couch. He loved that they could do this - this gentle rinsing with one another. Nick never had fun for an unknown, unpredictable amount of time before getting angry. Nick never shifted from teasing to cruel barbs. Nick never needled Charlie, then snapped if Charlie gave it back to him. This was him and Nick, and it was one of his favourite things.
Nick slowly sat back up and they smiled at each other. Charlie took in Nick’s face for a moment before glancing away and turning so Nick couldn’t see his blush. Even if he’d never be able to properly be with Nick in the way that he wanted, Charlie was still astounded that he got to be around Nick. Nick made Charlie feel so incredibly accepted. It was a silly thing, really. Charlie felt like he shouldn’t care about being accepted when he was nearly thirty - that was something for teenagers. Though as Charlie thought that, he reflected on the voice that often resonated through his head, the one that whispered cruel barbs. The thoughts were one that had circled Charlie’s brain like vultures since he was young, ones that dove and dug their sharp beaks in when they sensed weakness. Ben had given many of those thoughts actual voice, reminding Charlie of how middlingly tolerable he was.
You’re too clingy.
Stop obsessing about things and just be fucking normal, Charlie, god.
If you weren’t whinging all the time people would like you better.
Charlie could still feel those thoughts hovering in his brain, soaring on the thermals. When Charlie was at Lavender Fields, though, he didn’t feel them, not any more. When Charlie was with Nick, he felt like those hissing accusations and the knowledge that he could be better were buffered away from his brain, like an invisible dome protecting him. With Nick, Charlie often felt like who he was was enough to be friends with Nick Nelson. God, Charlie wished it was more than friends. But even being friends with Nick was more than Charlie could have dreamed of months ago.
Charlie blinked out of his stupor and did actually blush, looking away and at the fire. He still felt chilled, having not showered after drumming, and thought that it might be a nice time for a fire. “Hey, reckon we should burn a little effigy of Mark to make you feel better?” Nick didn’t respond and Charlie cocked his head – Nick seemed miles away. “Nick?” Nick blinked and looked up at Charlie, something in his eyes that Charlie couldn’t read, but then his face cleared. “You there?”
Nick grinned, and in an instant, Charlie saw the face that he knew and was so deeply head over heels for reappear. “Sorry, spaced out for a second, yeah.”
Charlie returned the expression, feeling the heat already spread through his chest the way it always did whenever Nick looked at him like that. “I was saying - if you were going to build a tiny sacrificial fire to pray to the almighty people of the portrait, maybe you could build it in the grate?”
Nick laughed. “You cold, Springtime? Warm the room with your sunny goodness.”
Charlie blushed and snorted, shaking his head at Nick’s ridiculousness. “Yes, I am very cold.” He held up a hand in solemn vow. “And I promise, I won’t say anything else about your mum playing Truth or Dare with Mark and being dared to pass a card to him using only her mouth and his mouth if you build a fire. Anything more after the thing that I just said, I mean.”
Nick made a strange sound between a groan and a laugh, leaning back on the sofa again and slouching down. “Fine, you absolute terror. We can have a fire as long as we pretend that Mark is like a Ken doll, without both feelings and slash or genitals.” Charlie giggled. Nick smiled, and then sat up and wagged a finger at Charlie. “But, you have to build the fire this time. I’ll teach you how.”
Charlie sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Nick. “Deal. Though making me build a fire is somehow homophobic.”
Nick nodded, eyebrows drawn together in deep, sarcastic sympathy. “I know. Come on, then.”
They knelt together in front of the hearth. Their shoulders were so close together, and Charlie had to stop himself from staring at Nick’s broad, strong hands. He talked Charlie through setting the fire, starting Charlie with a small pile of kindling in a pyramid. Nick was an incredible teacher and Charlie knew he was going to be an incredible coach. He told Charlie what he needed to do, then guided him to actually do that thing on his own. Nick was patient and encouraging and Charlie felt both more sated and more desperate than he thought he ever had. He was so happy to be with Nick and be here. He also wanted so, so much more.
Charlie tried to put his evergreen feelings for Nick out of his mind (ha, yeah, super possible, Charlie) and leaned forward, Nick encouraging him to give the fire a try. Charlie lit the match and then gently blew as the flame caught the edge of the paper. He took a breath in and blew again, the orange-yellow lick of the flame consuming the paper before the kindling caught, cracking and popping.
Charlie sat back, genuinely amazed with himself. “I did it!”
Nick leaned back on his hands and smiled at Charlie, the expression almost as bright as the fire. “Yes, you did. Well done, you.”
Charlie imitated Nick’s position, sitting back on the floor with his hands braced behind his back. The fire danced in front of them, making Charlie feel safe. Safe enough, maybe to bring up what he had been thinking about last night. Charlie didn’t want to. He didn’t want to ask if Nick wanted more than quiet nights in with Charlie, because Charlie wanted to cling selfishly to those nights. But Nick had done so much for Charlie - so much. Charlie needed to give Nick the life he deserved, too. He hesitated before speaking, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. Maybe with some humour? “So, your mum…”
Nick looked fondly exasperated, shaking his head at Charlie and laughing. “Charlie! You promised!”
“No, sorry, terrible segue.” Charlie let out a chuckle, though his heart was now going at what felt like triple speed. “Just, like - speaking of you salting your mum’s game…” Charlie tried to give Nick a cheeky look, but he could feel it fall off of his face. “I just - I feel like I’m salting your game, you know?”
Nick looked utterly confused, like Charlie wasn’t speaking real words. “What?” he asked, forehead crinkled.
Charlie bent his knees and hugged them to his chest, instinctively drawing in small and tight. “I mean - it’s the weekend. And I’ve been here for, what - eight weeks? And you - you’re so kind, Nick.” Charlie took a breath and chanced a look over at Nick. “You always stay here with me on the weekends. But that means you’re not going out.” Name it, Charlie. Name what he is not getting to do, since he is here with you all the time. Charlie braced himself. “And not, like - going on dates and stuff.”
Nick opened his mouth, eyebrows still drawn together in such a way that it almost made him look mournful. He shook his head emphatically before speaking. “God, Charlie, literally not at all,” said Nick in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat. “I’ve not even thought of - I’m not…” Nick trailed off and gazed into the fire, and Charlie felt like every piece of his body was trembling and vibrating, the whole world hanging in the balance.
“I’ve been happy,” Nick said after a long pause. He looked up at Charlie, and Charlie leaned back without meaning to, so struck by the expression on Nick’s face and his words. Nick was happy. Nick was happy. Nick had been spending time with Charlie, and that made Nick happy. And the way he was looking at Charlie - it was as if Nick wanted Charlie to believe him - or maybe like he needed Charlie to believe him. Nick was looking at him with a look of such intensity that Charlie sucked in a small, tight inhale, his body suddenly feeling in need of more oxygen. “I haven’t really…” Nick stopped again, looking at the fire. He gave a tiny shake of his head as if to himself.
In the silence, Charlie felt the emotion welling inside of him, rising up in his throat. Nick had been happy. Nick made Charlie happy. They made each other happy. Those were such simple words, but it was such a profound feeling. “I’ve been happy, too,” said Charlie quietly, looking at Nick and needing Nick to know that it was because of him - because of Nick that Charlie had started to feel alive again. But Charlie needed to know that it couldn’t be at Nick’s own expense. “But seriously, Nick. I don’t want to hold you back.”
Nick laughed incredulously, shaking his head. “Hold me back? Charlie, you’re what’s been –” He stopped, and so did Charlie’s heart. I am what’s been what? Charlie’s brain screamed. The energy in the room felt charged, anticipatory, exhilarating. It felt like Charlie was standing on a high ledge over water, that same cell-tingling feeling before a leap, and he didn’t know why. Nick seemed to struggle with words for a moment before he gave Charlie a small smile. “Don’t talk about my friend Charlie like that.”
Charlie grinned, though it was shaky. That moment of thrilling, terrifying energy had passed, shifted by Nick’s humour. “You’ve said that before.”
“And I’ll say it again and again until you believe it.” Nick said that with a gentle smile, and Charlie fought the urge to bury his face in his knees.
There was a moment of silence, filled only by the snaps and happy sizzle of the fire. Charlie felt his heart speed up again. He thought back to the list from a few weeks ago, of what he knew about Nick. He knew that Nick had dated women before. He knew he had dated a woman named Marla. But Charlie didn’t know much else. Charlie had brought this up - this whole dating thing, and he may as well continue to forge forward on this giddy, nerve-wracking path. “So,” said Charlie, the sound of his Converse on the floor louder than he expected. “What type of person do you usually date?”
There was another pause, and Charlie glanced through his eyelashes at Nick, whose brow was furrowed in something soft and thoughtful. “I, uh - it’s changed, I think. I’ve dated some certain types of people in the past.” Nick didn’t sound angry or like he thought Charlie was prying. But there was something else there, too, something that Charlie didn’t know how to parse. “But…” Nick paused again and Charlie thought he could hear his own heart in the silence. “I don’t know. I feel like - there’s been who I’ve been, like, attracted to in the past. But I think I’ve realised lately - maybe there are other people that I’d end up dating?” Charlie felt a sudden, irrational press of hot tears against his eyes, and swallowed to try to push the emotions back down. Why did this feel – this felt like Nick was saying something. Was Nick… Was he implying… In the silence, Charlie’s brain raced and spun, his chest feeling like it might explode.
Nick’s voice was soft, like the words were new to him and he was scared of breaking them. “Have you ever been… have you ever been scared to change? Or do something that might… confuse or surprise people? Or even yourself? Like your real personality has been buried inside you for a long time?”
Charlie’s whole body felt like it was teetering on the edge of a cliff, that stomach-clenching anticipation of something exciting and terrifying coursing through him.
Other people I might date…
Scared to change…
Real personality…
Was it –
Was it all real? Was this not in Charlie’s head? Was – did Nick… Was Nick trying to say that he might – he might date men? Was Nick trying to figure something out for himself? Was this new to him, too?
Nick was looking at Charlie as though Charlie could answer those questions for him. Charlie didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to start somewhere, ask Nick what he meant, ask Nick what they could talk about…
“Nick,” Charlie started, the word catching in his throat.
Both he and Nick jumped when a wash of light dappled through the parlour, the telltale crunch of tyres on shells sounding outside the window.
Nick got up and stretched. “That must be mum coming back, I’d guess,” he said, looking out the window. “She must have forgotten something - oh, that’s not her, actually. I’m not sure who that is.” Nick extended a hand to Charlie to help him up.
“No?” asked Charlie, taking Nick’s hand and getting up. God, Sarah, I love you so fucking much but you are displaying a shockingly terrible sense of timing for potentially huge moments. He went to the window and Nick stood beside him, Charlie’s eyes adjusting to the darkness after looking into the fire for so long. He blinked a few times and took in the sleek lines of the car, a low dark expensive-looking sports car. The engine revved once before the car shut down, and something in Charlie’s sensory system clicked into place with a gutting, sickening realisation.
The car was a Jaguar. A Jaguar with its overdone engine, the one that Charlie hated because it was so loud. A Jaguar that Charlie had heard many times before, but never thought he would have to hear at Lavender Fields.
Charlie felt his legs threaten to buckle, and he gripped at the closest thing, which was Nick’s sweater. Charlie stumbled back and Nick caught him by the arm, looking alarmed.
“Oh god,” said Charlie hoarsely. “That’s… Ben.”
Notes:
In Nick’s honor: Pecan pesto!
3 cups fresh basil leaves
1 ½ cups pecans
4 cloves garlic
½ cup shredded Parmesan cheese
¾ cup olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 pinch ground black pepper to tasteBlend that shit in a food processor. Enjoy!
See you next week for another Lavender Fields chapter 🥰
Chapter 44: Charlie's POV: B. Hope
Summary:
The human whose timing is as terrible as his personality has arrived at Lavender Fields. Let’s see how warmly Nick greets him.
Notes:
Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, you two are the butterfly clips on the crimped hair of life. I love both of you and thank you for doing so much for me and these LF boys!
A remind that this is the chapter where B. Hope shows up and we have the canon assault moment through Charlie's POV. It is a short portion of the chapter and we don't hang out in that first-person POV very long. Take care of yourself! 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Ben?”
Nick’s voice sounded far away, even though Charlie knew they were still standing right next to each other. Charlie was still looking out the window, trying to convince himself that this wasn’t real; that this couldn’t be real. Lavender Fields was more than the place he was staying. It had become a place where Charlie felt truly at home, both in terms of location and in terms of himself. At Lavender Fields, he had been able to feel himself unclench muscles that felt like they’d be tensed for years. Charlie had made friends. He’d been welcomed and accepted despite all of his flaws. Every week when Charlie pulled up to the house, he felt a sense of peace, respite, warmth, and security. Lavender Fields was a safe place.
And now Ben had come.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Nick’s voice sounded angry, and Charlie tore his gaze away from the window.
Ben was here. Ben was at Lavender Fields. Charlie’s heart was hammering in his chest, and it felt as if the room was swirling around him, making him dizzy and light-headed. “I don’t know,” he managed to get out, voice tight. Charlie was still trying to reconcile what was happening. This was his place. This was his life, here at Lavender Fields. Lavender Fields had helped Charlie get away from Ben and what Charlie realised had been an utterly fucked up relationship, and now all of that security and comfort had been shattered. Charlie felt cold and hot at the same time, and he wondered if he was going to pass out. He looked down when he felt Nick’s large, strong hand gently but firmly take his own.
Nick’s voice was softer when he spoke again, the edge of fury gone. “Charlie,” Nick said, and Charlie looked up at him. “Do you want me to tell him to fuck off? I’ll go out right now and you never have to see him.”
Charlie felt an almost-overwhelming wash of gratitude for Nick. Nick would tell Ben off. Ben would go away, and Charlie would never have to see him again. Nick would keep him safe. That felt so incredibly appealing right now; the idea that Charlie could stay in the warm parlour huddled by the fire and not have to deal with this at all. Nick would take care of it for him, and Charlie could stay sealed in the cocoon of Lavender Fields.
Charlie could do that. He could.
Then his mind flew back to a memory from a few weeks ago, one of Nick. It was right after Ben had called Charlie. It had ended poorly – because of course it had – and Charlie had been utterly rattled. Nick had taken him into his arms and afterwards, Charlie was trying to apologise for how whiny and pathetic he had been. Charlie couldn’t remember everything Nick had said, but he remembered one part of it.
“You’re incredible, Charlie. You’re so, so strong. You’re astonishing, Charlie. I hope you can see that.”
Charlie took a long, shaky breath. He wanted to be the Charlie that Nick apparently saw, no matter how flawed and incorrect Nick’s perspective was. This whole situation also wasn’t Nick’s to deal with. This was Charlie’s and he could do it. Charlie felt a gear turn inside himself, something clicking into place and making him feel firm, upright, stronger. Stronger. Nick said Charlie was strong. He might not be the person that Nick saw, but he was a different Charlie to the one who had been with Ben before. He was the Charlie who chose to end things with Ben and find his own place. Charlie was the one who did that. It felt a bit like he had used up his bravery, though. Since then, Charlie had avoided challenging Ben - ignoring his messages, shrinking into himself over the phone when Ben called. This was it. Ben had come to Charlie’s home, a place just for him. Charlie could take care of this. Charlie was going to take care of this.
He looked at Nick, whose brown eyes looked worried. “I think - I think I need to, honestly.” Charlie wanted to touch the beautiful face looking at him and tell Nick that he wasn’t worth Nick being upset about, but he swallowed that back. That was a Ben thought, something in Charlie’s brain whispered, and he stood up a little straighter and took another breath. He could know that those were thoughts because of Ben. Charlie was worth being upset about. And Nick clearly cared about him. “He’s been…he’s been trying to get me to talk to him for a few weeks. I need to - I need to do this.”
Nick squeezed his hand and Charlie realised with a start that Nick was still holding Charlie’s hand. It spoke to how rattled and shocked Charlie was that hadn’t been able to take in how just… how right it felt to have their hands together. Nick asked, “Can I come to the door with you?”
Charlie searched Nick’s face for pity. There was nothing there, only authentic care. “Yes,” Charlie responded, the gratitude coursing through him again.
“Okay,” Nick said, squeezing Charlie’s hand once more before letting it go. Their fingers caught for a breath of a moment before Nick fully pulled away. “Are you… alright? Are you, like, ready for this?”
“Yes,” replied Charlie automatically. “No. I don’t know.” He let out a harsh laugh, a syllable of shock that this was actually real and happening. Maybe it was time, though. Charlie had pretended that Ben would go away, but that hadn’t happened. There had been the calls, the messages. The “joking” threat that Ben was going to show up at Charlie’s work. Ben had been a lurking presence that Charlie hadn’t put a firm end to, and now he could actually do that. “Fuck. It’s been…this has been coming, honestly. I haven’t done a good job–” Charlie stopped himself, knowing what his therapist would probably say to that. What Nick would probably say to that. Charlie might not have done a good job in addressing Ben and telling him to go away, but now, he could choose to. “It’s time. I need to finally do this, I think.”
“Only if you want to,” said Nick, eyebrows still creased with concern. He was looking at Charlie in such a tender way that it made Charlie’s chest hurt.
“I definitely don’t want to,” Charlie said, taking a breath. “But I’m going to.”
Nick nodded and they started moving at the same time, Charlie following Nick out of the parlour and into the dining room. Despite the warm honeyed tones of the room and all of the lovely memories Charlie had, his stomach flooded with cold to see Ben’s flickering shadow crossing the porch, dappling the dining room floor with dread. Nick made a small noise and moved quickly to the door, throwing it open and letting the light of Lavender Fields spill across his handsome face.
Ben Hope.
Ben took a hurried half-step back when Nick opened the door and Charlie frowned, unsure at why his normally-unruffled ex-fiancé had reacted like that. He was wearing the tan suede jacket that Charlie had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago. Charlie had saved for a year to buy the jacket when Ben pointed it out the first few months into their relationship. Their situationship, really. It hadn’t been a relationship for almost another full year, if you had asked Ben. The jacket had been ridiculously expensive and every month Charlie stashed money away, finally purchasing it for their second Christmas together. Ben had thanked him, but also informed Charlie that the jacket was woefully out of style at that point. He hadn’t worn it in front of Charlie before today.
Charlie’s mouth tightened, thinking of Ben purposefully selecting the gift and wearing it. With the new perspective he had, he could finally see. He could see that Ben did this on purpose. Ben had planned this, probably down to the outfit. Charlie hated that Ben could have planned the jacket and the situation and made it all so that Charlie would be forcibly surprised, taken off-guard. Charlie let the silence drag before he finally broke it, voice cold. “What are you doing here, Ben?”
Ben gave Charlie a gentle smile, the one that pulled at his mouth and made him look younger. “I came to talk to you,” he said, eyes soft and smiling at Charlie. “And apologise. I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for.”
Charlie stood there in the silence, feeling it billow around them. He wasn’t going to give in. Ben could speak first this time. The tenuous moment stretched on. The only sound Charlie could hear was Nick’s weight shifting, making the floorboards creak below him.
Finally Ben tilted his head to the side and gave it a flirty shake. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No,” said Charlie, at nearly the same time as Nick, still standing close by. Charlie glanced over and saw Nick glaring at Ben like he was fifteen Mark-from-the-towns put together at once.
Ben’s eyes turned onto Nick and Charlie bit back the urge to scream at Ben. Ben didn’t deserve to talk to Nick. “Who are you?” Ben asked Nick pointedly, his tone icy.
“I’m Charlie’s friend,” Nick said loudly, edging forward so that he was partially between Charlie and Ben. “And I run Lavender Fields.” Charlie felt a shimmer run through his body, worrying for another moment that he might faint again. This was all…this was so much. Nick seemed even larger than normal, and he was stepping between Ben and Charlie, forced to insert himself because Charlie hadn’t ended it the way he should have.
Ben’s eyes were narrowed and he looked calculating. “No you don’t,” he said after a long pause. “It’s some woman. Some older woman.”
Charlie was about to angrily respond but startled as Nick twitched forward. Charlie could feel the heat of fury coming off of him. Charlie had never seen Nick angry, not ever. “Nick,” he said quietly, terrified that Ben could pull Nick into something far uglier than Nick deserved. Nick couldn’t be responsible for Charlie.
Nick’s voice was clipped. “Well it’s me now.”
Ben gave Nick a withering look, then turned to Charlie, face smoothing again like calm water after a wind. “Come on, Charlie. I have some things to say.”
Charlie pressed his lips into a line. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Come on, Charlie.” Ben’s voice was that gentle purr as he repeated himself, the one that had pulled Charlie in so many times. Now it was like Charlie could see Ben’s moves as a map, like Ben was selecting from a menu of options. Realising that – knowing that – gave Charlie a flicker of strength. He could do this. Charlie could tell Ben off for good, and never have to see or think about him again. “You have to talk to me,” Ben said, eyes on Charlie. “You owe me that, at least.”
Charlie was about to respond when Nick growled and surged forward, Charlie instinctively pulling on Nick’s arm to hold him back. “No, Nick,” Charlie said, heart now thumping a thousand beats per minute at everything happening. Nick could have easily torn himself away but he stopped, eyes on Charlie like he was waiting for Charlie to tell him what to do. Charlie made his voice gentler, not wanting Nick to think Charlie was upset with him. “No,” he said again, meeting Nick’s eyes and trying to communicate a million things at once. Charlie looked away from Nick’s gorgeous, hesitant face and back at Ben. “Fine. Outside. I’ll talk outside for five minutes. And that’s it.” Ben gave a glowing look like of course Charlie would speak to him and stepped back, making space for Charlie to join him on the porch.
Charlie turned back to Nick, locking eyes again. “I can do this,” Charlie said assuredly, though he was speaking with a confidence that he didn’t quite believe himself.
Nick’s face shifted from anger to softness in a moment. “I know, Charlie,” Nick said, raking his fingers through his hair in a move that Charlie tried hard to not let fluster him. Not now. “I’m - I just…fuck. He’s acting like this is a fucking favour to you. It’s bullshit. But I know you can do this.” Nick looked at him, eyes worried and sincere. “And I’m here if you need me.”
Charlie gave Nick the best approximation of a smile he could. “I know,” he said. He really did. He took a deep breath and went outside, pulling on his heavy wool coat from the hook as he did.
“You’re wearing a coat?” Ben asked, giving Charlie the flirty smile that had melted him the first night at the bar. “It’s not even that cold out.”
“It’s December,” Charlie replied shortly.
Ben didn’t say anything, he just grinned softly at Charlie, shaking his head. “You look amazing.” Charlie didn’t respond to that, trying to imagine himself floating above this conversation and watching it. He could feel Ben’s eyes on him, travelling over his body. “I miss you so much, Charlie. It’s been so hard for me since you’ve been gone.”
Charlie still said nothing, but he could feel his jaw tighten and felt the betrayal of tears starting in his eyes. Fuck, he thought. I don’t even feel that emotional. Why this fuck is this just my automatic reaction with him? To start crying? He took a long inhale through his nose, trying to steady himself. Charlie had always imagined a moment like this when he was with Ben. He had fantasised so many times about not messaging Ben for a few days and having Ben come to him, realising how much he missed Charlie and how special Charlie was. He’d imagined it in endless combinations, sometimes cursing at himself to try to stop from sending a message, hoping that this time, Ben would message first.
It had never happened.
Ben’s voice was soft, gentle, pleading. It was the same quiet tone that Charlie had only heard a few times before. It was the sound that had kept Charlie completely tethered to Ben. In a few rare moments, Charlie had seen this side of Ben, the tender and loving side. This side often appeared after an argument or after Ben had blown up at Charlie, and it always felt deliciously soothing, like salve on a burn. Those moments were the ones that Charlie craved and wanted; the ones that his brain always hopefully thought might come. Charlie pressed his lips together again to stop them from trembling. He could see what Ben was doing and he hated that his mind was spiralling back to what it had done in their old flat, in their old life.
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Ben said, his voice entreating. “I reacted badly, I know that. I think the whole wedding thing was hard for me.”
“How?” asked Charlie, though he hated that he was asking. It was just that Ben never spoke about his feelings – ever. Charlie’s amazed curiosity alone kept him driving forward, pulled by the invisible magnets that had drawn him to Ben over and over again.
Ben smiled, the relief on his face clear that Charlie was speaking to him. ”In a lot of ways,” he said, nodding. “You know I still struggle with some of that stuff,” he said. “You know how hard it was for me to come out.”
Charlie nodded, breath catching in his throat a little. Ben had been out-ish, but not out out when they had gotten together. Charlie had excused a million things that Ben had done because he remembered how terrifying it was and had been for himself. “I know,” Charlie said, empathy welling up. “I can still remember how hard it was for me when I came out.”
Ben nodded, his eyes on Charlie’s face. “It was,” he said emphatically. “But I still did it. I did it for you.” Charlie tried to suppress his sharp inhale of breath. It was… it was true. Wasn’t it? Ben hadn’t been out – not to his parents or work at least - and he’d come out for Charlie. For their relationship. It had been hard and Ben had been angry. It made sense that he was angry. It hadn’t been fair that he’d been angry with Charlie over it, but Charlie got it. Ben had come out for him, to be with him. “Do you know how hard that was for me to do?”
Charlie tried to respond, but his brain swung back as it often did to Nick. Nick, who seemed to be on the precipice of saying something before Ben interrupted it. Charlie had thought for a moment – well, as stupid as it was, Charlie had thought that maybe Nick had even been about to say that he… he might date a boy. Or maybe even date Charlie. Charlie’s mind had been so blown away and giddy and gleefully terrified at the prospect that he hadn’t even considered that if that impossible dream ever did come true, Nick would have to do the same thing. He would need to come out, and it would be all for Charlie. He’d have to upend his whole life, like Ben did, for Charlie.
“I…” Charlie didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t want to invalidate what Ben went through or how hard parts of it had been. At the same time, he felt tiny and trapped. It was like… it was like Ben wanted Charlie to admit how much Ben had done for Charlie.
“It was hard,” Ben repeated, stepping closer to Charlie. “But I did it. I did it because I love you.” He reached out to touch Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie saw it as if it were in slow motion, thinking of all of the times that he’d melted under Ben’s touch. Charlie saw Ben’s hand coming closer and then blinked in a moment of sudden, staggering clarity. He could see it. He could see what Ben was doing. Light, dark. Light, dark. Ben would lure him in with light, and then he would plunge Charlie into darkness. Charlie had stayed through all of the darkness, waiting and hoping for the light. But that was just it, wasn’t it? Ben controlled the light. Ben controlled all of it. Ben had controlled Charlie. It had been orchestrated and calculated and intentional.
Charlie jerked backwards. “What are you doing?” he said, physically stepping away, getting a wisp of whisky-like odour from Ben’s breath. “You don’t get to touch me whenever you decide you want to.” The burst of anger that rose in him surprised even Charlie, especially in the face of Ben’s gentle tones. That voice, that kindness, the dangled light – it had worked before. It had soothed and lulled him before. Now it didn’t.
“Come on, Charlie.” Ben’s voice and face were tinged with indulgent amusement, like Charlie was acting cute for attention.
“No.”
“Charlie.” Charlie could hear it. The way Ben was trying to sound loving and convincing. The way he used what he knew pulled at Charlie’s heart to work his way back in. Charlie could hear the manipulation now, seething and thick and wrapping itself around Charlie like a choking scarf.
“It’s been five minutes, Ben.” Charlie stepped to the side, starting to make his way to the door.
Ben rolled his eyes, the first sign of annoyance he’d shown so far. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Charlie crossed his arms and looked at the man he used to think he’d spend his life with. “I’m being ridiculous?” He tilted his head at Ben. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? The one where I left a few months ago?”
“No,” Ben said, tilting his head sternly at Charlie like a disappointed teacher. “Oh, god. You always do this. You’re so immature sometimes.”
Charlie crossed his arms, the chill cutting into him despite his wool jacket. “Immature how?” He tried to keep his voice neutral.
“Like this. You hold on to grudges. You fixate on things and become so obsessive - like, it’s exhausting, Charlie. Your food stuff?” Ben shook his head patronisingly. “This is just you trying to control things, like a child. This is your OCD showing up.”
Grudges? Charlie felt dizzy, like he’d lost the line of the plot. They hadn’t been talking about grudges - or Charlie hadn’t at least… he’d been reflecting on Ben and his patterns - wait, did Charlie hold grudges? Was he immature? No – right? No… no, this wasn’t about that, it was–
“Why did you want to marry me?” The question slipped out of Charlie’s mouth, somehow emerging from the confusion in his mind. He blinked in his own surprise; it was almost as if someone else had asked for him.
Ben looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
Charlie felt the same heat of anger rise up again from where it had been cowed back by his confusion. Yes. He had wanted to ask this for ages. “Why did you ask me to marry you? When you said I didn’t deserve you. You told me that over and over. Why did you want to marry me, then?”
It was like Charlie had new glasses on. It was as though he had a new lens to look at Ben and see how Ben calculated his next move. Ben’s look shifted, the anger replaced by softness. Forced softness, Charlie could see now. That change in his demeanour - that wasn’t something real. It wasn’t feelings soaking through Ben’s chest and body. It was manipulation. Calculation. Intention. “I wanted to marry you because I could trust you,” Ben said, his voice coaxing and warm. “Want to marry you. I want to marry you because I love you.” He stepped closer to Charlie again, and Charlie could see the dark stubble on his jawline, a gruff masculine detail that had always turned him on before. Now, it did nothing. “You’re the one thing I could always count on.”
Charlie’s breath caught as a surge of memories pressed forward. He thought of times in bed, when he had comforted Ben at home after a coworker hurt him, the same coworker that he went and got drinks with without Charlie a week later. The times Ben complained about his tough week and Charlie got him flowers and planned dinners so that Ben didn’t have to worry about meal prep all week. Charlie thought of when he had taken Ben’s car in for maintenance because Ben had been saying that he was too busy to do it. A million memories, all of Charlie giving. Charlie giving, Ben taking. Light, swallowed by dark.
Ben seemed encouraged by Charlie’s silence. He stepped closer again. “Come home,” Ben said in a tone that Charlie supposed was meant to come off as soothing. Instead, it grated. “Come home with me, Charlie.”
There was a quivering half-second before the wave slammed into Charlie’s chest. Ben would never be home. Charlie was finally at home now that he was no longer with Ben. “No,” Charlie said once again.
Ben cocked his head. “What?”
“I said no,” Charlie repeated, voice a little louder. “We don’t have a home. You and I do not have a home.”
“Why are you being like this? Because I went to France? And you wanted to go there and you’ve worked yourself up?” Ben dropped his voice, looking at Charlie in manufactured sympathy and disappointment. “God, you are so immature.”
The flame of anger licked up inside Charlie again, a totally different fire than the contented one Charlie had been sitting in front of with Nick before this man – this fucker – turned up. “You’re the one who ran away, Ben! You ran! You call that mature? We were supposed to be a couple - a partnership - and you cut and ran!”
“God, I was just doing what I needed to after you were so dramatic,” snapped Ben, his entire countenance different now. “But like I said, I’ll still marry you. I get it. You were being dramatic, but it was because of the wedding, all that stress.”
Charlie had to unclench his jaw to respond. “Dramatic?! I–”
Ben spoke over him. “Yes, dramatic. Like you always are. You’re dramatic about everything. Me not spending enough time with you. Food. Your friends. God, Charlie, you are so much to deal with sometimes.” Ben shook his head at Charlie, his fury cold and smothering. “You’re lucky I was willing to be with you from the start. And you’re even luckier that I’m willing to be with you now, after you were such a bitch about everything and then fucking ignored me for weeks.”
“I don’t want to be with you!” The words tore out of Charlie, rushing out in their eagerness to get into the world. Charlie was finally saying all the things he wanted to, feeling terrifyingly free. “Ben, I don’t want to marry you! I don’t want to be around you! You owe me an apology! You owe my family an apology!”
“An apolo–”
“Right, an apology,” interrupted Charlie. “It’s what good people do after they’ve done something terrible? Like telling me the night before the wedding that you didn’t want Olly to be in the pictures? That those pictures would be all over the Internet and you didn’t want the aesthetic ruined by, how did you describe him? By ‘a gangly, spotty teenager’ when you’d have to look at them forever? And that I was being selfish and not caring about what you wanted, because you were already compromising by marrying me? That I didn’t deserve you?” Charlie’s chest was heaving at this point, but he felt more grounded than he had in years. He felt, maybe for the first time ever with Ben, powerful.
“I didn’t say–”
“You did,” said Charlie, shaking his head. “You were so cruel. And then you said it was over, and that I didn’t deserve to be with you, and you left. And I was crushed.” Charlie stopped, thinking of when he had first gotten to Lavender Fields and how tiny he felt. He had been ripped apart, shattered. And Nick Nelson put him back together, one kindness at a time. “Then I came here. I came here and I met people who were kind and treated me like I mattered. And I spent time with my friends - the friends that you were always too busy to see, that you said were annoying, that we never spent any time with. I remembered how good I feel around them. And after the first few days where I felt like utter shit, Ben, I realised how good I felt not being around you. And how good I feel being with–” Charlie was able to cut himself off from saying Nick’s name, but just barely. Ben didn’t deserve to hear about Nick. Ben didn’t deserve to be in the same sentence as Nick, and Ben didn’t deserve to know how Charlie sometimes felt like he was falling in love with Nick, heedless and stupid and unstoppable. “...With people who think I’m good enough,” Charlie finished, feeling shaky but strong. “You came back after a few weeks and there was still that tiny part of me that thought maybe it could work. Then seeing you again, when you got back from your trip…” Charlie didn't fight the edge his voice had taken on. “When we talked, I realised again how you made me feel so small.”
Ben sighed, a sharp and exasperated sound of dismissal. “That’s such bullshit therapy talk, Charlie.”
“No, it’s the fucking truth!” Charlie shot back. “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to be with someone who makes – made me feel the way that you did.”
Ben laughed, a cold, curling sound that was the exact opposite of Nick’s. It didn’t surround Charlie and warm him up; it cut through Charlie like an icy spear. He fixed his eyes on Charlie, crossing his arms. “You think you’re the one who has any power here, Charlie? It’s not like anyone’s going to want you, anyway.” Charlie felt a bolt go through him, soldering him to the ground. There it was. There was the terror that Charlie’s naive fantasies about Nick had kept at bay. “Someone like you?” Ben went on. “Someone who’s desperate? Who’s still not over their eating disorder from when they were a teenager? Who’s needy and exhausting and anxious? Who’s such a bitch about things all the fucking time? Who I can do so much better than? Look at me, Charlie.” Ben paused, almost commanding Charlie to do so. He shook his head and nodded toward Charlie now. “And look at you. Who’s going to think you’re worth being with?”
Charlie could feel himself quivering and not from the cold. He had felt so powerful and strong even just a few minutes ago. He had spent the last few months building himself up, like he was finally buttressed against Ben’s attacks. And now… now it felt like everything he thought he had built was like tissue paper in the rain, torn and melting and destroyed. The false bravado was torn away and all that was left now was Charlie. Tiny, scared, pathetic Charlie. The one that Ben had said was nothing. The Charlie Ben had told him was worthless. The Charlie that…. The Charlie…
The Charlie who had a brother and sister who loved him unconditionally.
The Charlie who had reconnected with his friends.
The Charlie who Nick looked at the way Charlie saw in Tao’s pictures.
That Charlie. The Charlie who might not be perfect but still deserved to be happy.
“I do,” Charlie whispered, the words trembling and threatening to blow away in the wind. “I think I’m worth being with.” He looked up momentarily to see Ben looked stunned as if he had just been slapped. Charlie took a breath and spoke again, the flame flickering in his chest once more. “And I don’t want to be with you. I’m…worth more than how you treated me. I don’t want to see you again. At all.” He looked at Ben, his jaw tight and entire body ready to be done with Ben Hope forever. “Please leave. We are done, Ben.”
There was a pause and then Ben huffed out a forced laugh, his features smoothing into something inscrutable. “I don’t believe you.”
Charlie blinked, genuinely not understanding. “What?”
Ben’s lips were curling up into a smile, but one that turned Charlie’s stomach. “You always want me,” he said, voice velvety and dangerous. “I know you want me.”
Charlie let out an involuntary sound that was smothered as Ben came at him, pressing his lips to Charlie’s. Charlie raised his hands to try desperately to push Ben away. Ben seized his forearms and slammed them up against the wall of the porch, the same porch where Charlie had met all of the Badgers one sunny afternoon. “No,” Charlie managed to get out as he struggled and fought, trying to rip himself away. “Stop it!”
Ben laughed and Charlie’s stomach turned even more at the sickly smell of alcohol on his breath, hot and smothering against Charlie’s neck. He pressed Charlie’s arms harder against the wall and kissed him again, Charlie not knowing what to do, how to get out of this, wondering what he had done wrong, wondering why this was happening to him, wondering if this would ever ever ever end and pushing against Ben when he felt Ben’s weight lifted off of him. Charlie stepped away immediately, wiping the spittle off his lips and staring in shock. Ben was on the ground, sprawled inelegantly from where Nick had quite literally thrown him. Nick. Nick was there. Charlie immediately felt trembly with relief. Nick was here.
Nick’s chest was heaving and Charlie could see his hands curling in and out of fists. He stepped so that he was directly between Charlie and Ben and when he spoke, it was like the voice was coming from another person entirely. “He said no. Go on,” Nick snarled, feet planted as he stood between the two men as if he expected Ben to go after Charlie again. Again. Because that had just happened, hadn’t it? “Get in your car and fuck off.”
“Nick,” said Charlie, unable to keep the quiver out of his voice. He knew that he couldn’t let Ben drive, not in the state he was in. He might kill someone. “He’s fucking drunk.”
Nick took another step towards Ben and Charlie didn’t know if he should grab his arm again like he had in the house. “What the fuck? You fucking drove here drunk?” Nick stomped over to Ben’s keyfob and grabbed it, knuckles white. Then he went back over to Ben, seizing him by the arm and hauling him to his feet. “You’ll sleep it off in the lavender shed.” Charlie’s heart hammered and he instinctively stepped back. Ben glared hatefully at Nick and didn’t move. Nick’s voice was hard. “Unless you want me to ring the police now and see if they’re interested in pursuing both drink-driving charges and assault.” There was another pause and Ben tore his arm away from Nick, following Nick’s outstretched finger and storming off towards the lavender shed.
Charlie watched him go, his stomach twisted and nauseated. Nick turned towards Charlie and placed a hand on his arm that was far gentler than Charlie expected based on Nick’s anger. “Charlie,” Nick said quietly, and Charlie looked up, feeling like a wooden marionette. “Are you okay?”
Charlie nodded, everything in his body entirely numb. Numb, with shame creeping in at the edges. “Did you–” Charlie swallowed, the shame rising up into his chest now and threatening to take over. “Did you hear all of that?”
Nick nodded slowly. “Most of it.”
Of course he had. Maybe it was good. Maybe it was good that Nick knew how sad Charlie actually was and what his past relationship had been like. Charlie had been fooling himself with so many things. He’d been fooling himself to think he was strong and fooling himself to think that someone like Nick would ever be interested in him, even if he was interested in men. Nick knew that now, and he could finally see the real Charlie, the one who would never be with someone like Nick. “Well, now you know,” Charlie said, not looking at Nick. “Now you know who I chose to be with for three years. You know who I dated. Who I allowed to be in my life and thought I was going to end up with.”
“No, Charlie. No.” Nick spoke before Charlie was even finished, tone emphatic. He paused, shaking his head before he went on. “This is not on you.” Nick grasped Charlie’s other arm, holding it as if he thought Charlie might fly away. “He is not a reflection of who you are, okay?” Nick's eyes searched Charlie’s, and he gave each of Charlie’s arms a pulse. “Brilliant, kind, thoughtful, you.” Charlie swallowed against the burn of tears, the words feeling entirely new and unearned. He’d never… no man had ever said that to Charlie. Brilliant? Charlie didn’t feel brilliant right now. Nick looked towards the lavender shed and sighed. “Listen, I’m going to go throw a camp bed in the lavender shed so that fucker can sleep it off for a few hours before I give him his key back.”
Charlie pulled his coat tighter and followed Nick’s gaze. “Won’t it be cold in there?”
Nick gave him a half of a smile and huffed out a tiny laugh. “What did I say about my friend Charlie, yeah? Thoughtful.” Charlie had to grin at that, despite how cold and empty he felt. Nick grinned back and squeezed his hands against Charlie’s biceps once more. “Sadly, I have a space heater in there for when I work in the winter, so he won’t freeze his bollocks off.” He paused. “I can easily break it though.” Charlie let out a sniffling laugh and Nick touched his arms one last time before dropping his hands. “Come on, let’s talk when I get back inside, okay?”
Charlie nodded and went back into the house, pausing at the door and watching as Nick took large, purposeful strides over to the lavender shed. He didn’t move until Nick was out of sight, then slowly walked into the parlour where the fire was still burning, entirely unaware of what had happened. Charlie sat on the sofa and stared blankly at the flames as they danced. He felt hollow and gutted, like someone had scooped out his insides and left his body as a fragile shell.
Fragile.
That’s probably what Nick thought of Charlie as now. If he hadn’t before, it would be impossible that he wouldn’t at this point. Charlie had gone in with such bravado, even telling Nick that he’d take care of Ben. Charlie had built himself up over the last few weeks. He’d taken all of the things that had happened - becoming friends with Amy and the Badgers, reconnecting with Tao and Elle, doing well at work, and of course, everything with Nick - and convinced himself that he was a functioning, successful person. Charlie had even been self-congratulatory earlier that week, journaling about how proud he was that he had started therapy. He thought he was growing and healthy and strong.
Then tonight happened. Ben showed up and showed Charlie just how pathetic he was. Charlie couldn't even stand up to Ben even when Charlie knew how conniving and manipulative his former finance was. Charlie couldn’t stand up to Ben even when Ben couldn’t dangle the threat of snatching his love away from Charlie. And Nick had needed to save him. Nick, who was gentle and caring and kind. Charlie had embroiled Nick in his shit and then Nick had needed to deal with it. Nick, who didn’t even know anything about Ben. Nick, who was out there dealing with Ben by himself now, since Charlie was too weak to handle Ben.
Charlie felt the tears rise again, unstoppable this time. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eyes, the droplets trickling out at first and then spilling, hot and out of control. Charlie gave up and hugged his knees into his chest, making himself small and protected and tight. His shoulders shook and heaved as he cried, the fear now wrapping around him. God, Charlie had been afraid. He had been actually afraid, unsure of what Ben would do. If Nick hadn’t been there, Charlie didn’t know…
No, he didn’t want to go there. Charlie didn’t want to think about what it would have been like if Nick hadn’t saved him. God, he was so stupid. He’d told Elle months ago that Ben had never been physical with Charlie and never would be. Charlie was stupid, unimaginably stupid. If he was this wrong and dumb about Ben, what else was he wrong about? His friendship with Amy? If people actually liked him at work? And Nick. Of course Charlie had been wrong about Nick. Nick, who –
Charlie jumped when he felt arms circling his body, casting around wildly to see if Ben had come back somehow. He looked up to see Nick, his face etched with concern. Nick didn’t look angry or annoyed. He didn’t look like he was coming to check on Charlie because it was an obligation that he needed to check off. Nick was looking at Charlie in a way that broke his chest open, feeling raw and tiny and cared for. Nick was there. Without another thought, Charlie nestled his face between Nick’s shoulder and neck and felt Nick wrap fully around him.
The sobs wrenched out of him now. With Charlie curled in on himself, it was as though Nick’s body was entirely around him, enveloping Charlie in the biggest hug he’d ever gotten. Nick held him as he cried, pulling Charlie impossibly closer and rubbing soothing circles on Charlie’s back, something that almost pulled a howl out of him. Nick didn’t deserve to be in the middle of this, he thought desperately. And he doesn’t even know what happened with Ben. Charlie took a few shaky breaths as he started to settle down, Nick never letting go of him. Nick deserved to know, Charlie thought dully to himself, his inhales getting longer and less rattled.
Charlie sat up and sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeves. He expected Nick to pull back but he didn’t, keeping one arm around Charlie. Charlie hesitated and then leaned back against Nick’s side, Nick tucking his arm more securely around him. Charlie sighed again as he leaned into Nick’s chest, resting his cheek against the firm muscle. God, the feeling of Nick there with him, around him… It felt like it was inevitable that their bodies fit together like this, close and comforting. Charlie almost burst into tears again when Nick laid his cheek on Charlie’s head. This felt - this was like nothing Charlie had ever experienced. It was security and trust and protection and peace, all bundled into one perfect moment. Charlie felt a momentary wave of dizziness; it was disorienting to have this bliss follow such horror.
Charlie closed his eyes against Nick’s chest, not able to bear looking at Nick while he spoke. “It started as a hookup,” Charlie said quietly, and he felt Nick’s breath catch, his fingers tightening momentarily around Charlie’s body. “We actually worked together to start. That was how it happened. A drunken night out. I was out with my friends from work and he was out with his. No one knew he dated men at that point, at least no one at work. And I felt so lucky when it was just the two of us later that night, and we hooked up.” The clock ticked pleasantly on the mantle and the fire crackled, Charlie’s voice the only thing cutting through the soft sounds.
Charlie felt his tone drop, the shame tugging it down. He didn’t want to tell Nick any of this. He didn’t even want to say any of this aloud. “He wouldn’t look at me in the hallways. He pretended like he didn’t know me, even. But we kept hooking up. And I remember how I felt so special. So - chosen. I felt like he was probably going through a lot, you know? Figuring out his sexuality, and I was the one person he felt safe with.” Charlie felt a twist in his stomach, thinking of what Ben had said. I came out for you. I did it because I love you. Even if Nick felt like Charlie did - and Charlie had been deluding himself - Charlie wasn’t worth Nick upending everything to be with him. A sacrifice like that – no. No, that was too much, even for someone kind like Nick. “I thought that was probably part of why he was so closed off. Like it was a self-protective thing, I guess. And I knew how lucky I was that someone like him would have anything to do with someone like me.”
The words were spilling out now, Charlie stripping away the layers of careful polish and letting Nick see what Ben had seen. “He always made me feel like he was too hot for me. Too rich. Too handsome. I was broken and needy and annoying, and for some reason, he tolerated me.” Charlie paused, another memory wrapping steely fingers around his stomach and making him feel sick. Nick didn’t respond, instead just letting Charlie speak, but his body stayed wrapped securely around Charlie’s. “He told me that once, you know. That I was lucky he ‘tolerated’ me. One night when he was drunk.”
Charlie remembered that night well. It was the night Ben had confirmed all of the things Charlie had worried about. He had stewed in that fear for ages - that Ben put up with him. Charlie wasn’t an equal; he was someone that Ben was settling for and so knew that he had to make Ben happy. If Ben was lowering himself to be with Charlie, Charlie needed to make himself as appealing as possible. Nick’s arms tightened around his body and Charlie heard him breathe out deeply as he re-settled his cheek on top of his curls. He nestled closer to Nick’s body, taking in this moment of utter protection and gentleness that Charlie knew may never happen again.
“I don’t really know how it changed over to something more, like, serious,” Charlie said, thinking back to those early days with Ben. “I told you we were together for three years; Ben might have said something more like two.” Charlie thought with a sickening lurch of how he’d lied to Tori and Elle and everyone for the first year. Charlie had lied for years, really. He’d told all of them how things were good, when they weren’t. He’d told all of them that he was happy, when he wasn’t. “It was a secret for so long. I felt like I was a secret for so long. I kept a lot from my friends and my family. I lied to people - or maybe not lied, but, like, hid things. I only told them about the good things he’d do, and never the parts that made me feel like shit.”
Charlie sighed and Nick readjusted his arms, their bodies curled together with Nick’s cheek still resting on Charlie’s hair. “He changed companies a few months into whatever was happening between us, and maybe that was the start of it. New people there, a gay VP. Maybe he thought it would, like, help him in his career. Or maybe it was because no one else could stand him and put up with him.” Charlie let out a bitter laugh that faded in his throat immediately. He inched backwards in Nick’s arms and rested his head on Nick’s massive shoulder, drinking in how gorgeous and perfect and out of Charlie’s league he was. “I asked him that today,” said Charlie, head bobbing slightly on Nick’s arm as he spoke. “I asked him why he ever wanted to marry me if I didn’t deserve him the way he said I didn’t deserve him.”
When Nick finally did speak, his voice was tight. “What did he say?”
Charlie smiled sardonically, even though Nick couldn’t see him. It was so perfect, what Ben had said. It was what made Charlie realise what he actually was to Ben. “He said it was because he knew I’d always be there. That I was the thing he could always count on.”
Nick’s arms tensed around Charlie and there was a sharp sound in his inhale. “The thing he could always count on.”
Charlie snorted, though nothing felt funny. “Yeah. But honestly, I can see why he thought that.” Nick made a sound of protest but Charlie pressed past it, needing Nick to understand. “I was that, for so long. I was there, even when I shouldn’t be. I remember once, maybe a year ago.” Charlie thought back to that night, one of the memories that had tugged at his mind when he tried to fall asleep the nights before the wedding. “He hadn’t wanted me to go out with him one night when he was with his friends. I told him that it hurt my feelings and that I wanted to be with someone who wanted to be with me, not just put up with me.” Unbidden, Charlie’s mind darted back to when Nick’s friends had come to Lavender Fields. Nick had wanted Charlie to be with his friends. Nick had wanted Charlie to come hang out with his friends. “He said he was the only one who was going to put up with me, and to take what I got since god knows who else would be willing to put up with how needy I was.” Am.
Charlie felt the slow, deep rise and fall of Nick’s chest before he spoke again, his voice low and intense. “That’s fucking bullshit, Charlie. You –”
Charlie squeezed Nick’s arm with his hand, eyes closed against Nick’s chest. “I know,” he said. The silence hung for a moment and Charlie fought the urge to correct himself, to protest that he was needy and who would put up with him. But he did know. He knew what Nick would say. Beautiful, strong, soft, Nick. He knew that Nick would tell him that he wasn’t needy. Nick would tell him that Charlie was worth being with. If it had been any other moment, Nick would probably give him that gentle grin and remind Charlie that he himself knew he was worth it - the way Charlie had told Ben. Charlie took a shuddering sigh. For so long, Ben’s words filled his head and chest, loudly reminding Charlie of how undeserving he was and how lucky he was to have Ben. Nick had helped unlock a tiny voice in Charlie, one that protested that no, it was Ben who was wrong. Charlie was still shaken from what happened, but maybe… Maybe a small part of him had started to believe it. That Ben’s words were bullshit.
Charlie took another long, shaking inhale. “Then the thing with Olly happened. There had been all of this stuff with the wedding the whole time - him being annoyed with me, him making it small, him making it seem like it didn’t matter. Like whatever I wanted didn’t matter. And the whole time, I felt like I was torn between wanting to be married and be appreciated and be with this person that I’d ached to want me for so long and then knowing…”
Charlie felt his lip trembling. He hadn’t said it out loud yet. Nick made him feel safe enough to say it out loud. “Knowing that he didn’t make me happy.” He paused and sniffled, Nick’s thumb stroking circles on his back again. “I knew he didn’t make me happy. But I believed him when he said that he was the best I’d ever do.” Charlie fought for a moment against the tears, threatening to drown him again. He felt like he was stripping down in front of Nick, exposing himself entirely. It was terrifying and intimidating but also felt… safe, somehow. Safe, because it was with Nick. “I was just so happy to be loved. Even if it didn’t look the way I hoped. I just figured that…that maybe that was how it was. You get your ‘good enough’. I thought I had my good enough.”
Charlie’s voice caught on the last sentence, the tears surging up and spilling out, dotting small marks on Nick’s shirt. He closed his eyes and would have buried his face in Nick’s chest forever when he felt the lightest touch on his cheek. Charlie looked up in wonder, Nick’s fingers soft and gentle on his skin as Nick met his gaze.
“Oh, Charlie,” Nick said, and Charlie nearly broke into pieces at the tremble in Nick’s voice. “Those are lies,” Nick said throatily, taking his hand from Charlie’s face but not breaking eye contact. “He - Ben? He is a liar. He is so, so wrong.” Nick’s eyes were on Charlie’s face and Charlie felt like he might fly apart, the surging emotions in his chest almost too much. “You deserve… everything. ” Charlie pressed his lips together, fighting against the urge to burst into tears again. Those words - those words. Charlie drank them in like cool, clear water. They filled his chest and swirled, eddying away some of the darkness that Ben had left. Nick opened his mouth and took a shaky breath in, eyes never leaving Charlie’s. “You are kind, Charlie. You are intelligent, and sweet, and caring. You are a good person. You literally make people’s lives better.” Nick smiled at him, a gorgeous heartbreaking thing. “You are funny. You explain movies to film Luddites.” Charlie smiled a little bit at that. “You are successful and have amazing friends.”
Charlie looked at Nick in wonder and shock. Who was this man? This man who Charlie literally could not imagine his life without? This man who was holding him and speaking softly to him and touching Charlie like he’d never let him go? Nick went as if he were going to speak again but then took an inhale, and let it out. “You deserve everything,” Nick repeated. He held Charlie’s gaze until Charlie sniffled and nodded. He - he did deserve more. Charlie deserved more than Ben had given him. Nick pulled Charlie back into his chest and held him close. “You are incredible, Charlie.”
Charlie sighed, his entire body melting into this moment. Into this man. Into the man who held Charlie’s entire heart. Charlie felt exhausted and twisted up from the night, but also, somehow, lighter than he had in weeks, or maybe even months. He hadn’t even spoken to his therapist about most of this, and he’d opened up to Nick, spilling out the darkest things about himself. And Nick had just… comforted him. Accepted him. Held him. And reminded him that Ben’s words about Charlie didn’t have to be Charlie’s words about himself.
“Thank you,” said Charlie, unable to summarise how much better he felt and how grateful he was. “Just… thank you.” Charlie stayed in Nick’s arms, soothed by his way Nick gently rubbed his hand in tiny circles on Charlie’s back and the way his breath pulled in and out of his body, easy and predictable. He felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier until he slipped off into a grey, dreamless sleep.
Charlie was confused and bleary when he woke up some time later, the fire only glowing red with embers now and no Nick to be found. Charlie looked in the dining room and at the kitchen before going to his room, curling on his side and looking at his phone. He felt addled and fuzzy from the exhaustion of the day, but he felt the need to message Nick before succumbing to the oblivion of sleep. He lay there for a moment, phone clutched in his hands.
Charlie sighed and pulled a pillow over his face, groaning into it. What would Nick think the following day? What would Sarah think? What if Ben was still there when Sarah got back? Charlie sat up in a bolt of panic and looked around wildly, wondering if he should get out of bed and… and do something. Sarah didn’t deserve this. Nick hadn’t deserved this. Charlie took a few deep breaths. He went over to the window overlooking the car park and saw Ben’s car gone, and Sarah’s not yet returned. Charlie let out a shaky exhale and got back into bed, tucking himself in tightly. He’d tell Sarah tomorrow. He’d tell Sarah so that she could help be there for Nick. Nick was so kind and loving that Charlie guessed the whole horrible evening had been even worse on Nick than it had on Charlie. Nick deserved some comfort himself.
Charlie unlocked his phone and hovered his fingers over the keyboard for a few moments more before finally typing out a message.
cfspring: i went upstairs to bed
cfspring: i dont quite know what to say
cfspring: sorry i broke down like that
cfspring: (again)
Charlie paused and looked back at the message. Nick had been there for him, physically and emotionally. He’d handled Ben, quite literally - throwing him off Charlie and hauling him into the lavender shed. Nick had dealt with Ben, something his gentle, kind self should never have needed to do. Nick had done all of that and wouldn’t be keeping score in an endless column of “Nick versus Charlie”, counting that as a major strike against him. Nick wasn’t like that. Nick wasn’t like Ben.
cfspring: obligatory i knowwwww because you’re going to scold me for apologising
cfspring: but thank you for being there
cfspring: just…thank you xx
Charlie stared at his phone for another moment before he locked his phone and burrowed under the covers. He pushed himself up on the bed and nestled into the pillows, pressing one against his back so it felt like he was being comforted by Nick’s body again. Nick. Charlie knew it was ridiculous to say he loved him, but Charlie did. Charlie felt so much love for Nick. Maybe he wasn’t in love – that was too soon – but every ounce of Nick Nelson filled Charlie with so much love and appreciation. His mind was swirling when his phone buzzed once more. He looked at it to see a single message lighting up his lock screen.
LF Nick: ♥️
Charlie looked at the message for a long moment, touching his fingers absently to his phone screen, tracing over the heart. Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Notes:
Since I am in Sweden at the moment - turkey Swedish meatballs is the recipe of the day!
2 pounds 93% lean ground turkey
1 egg
3/4 c breadcrumbs
1 tsp salt
1/2 c milk
2 tsp lemon pepper seasoning
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp nutmeg
2 T chopped parsley
1 T onion flakes
30 ounces chicken broth
2-3 cups Bechamel sauce - it's pretty easy to make one! You can also use 2-3 cups of a "cream of" soup - like cream of chicken, cream of mushroom, etc.
Oodles of noodles (yes, this is a standard measurement)Combine the meat with everything except the broth, Bechamel sauce, and noodles. Shape in balls (heh).
In a non-stick pan or Dutch oven, melt a tablespoon of butter and brown the balls (heh) over medium heat. Add the chicken broth and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in the white sauce. Spoon sauce and balls (heh) over some noods!
See you next week for Danny & James 💜
Chapter 45: Charlie's POV: December
Summary:
Ben left and everyone was happy about that because he sucks. Charlie and Sarah talk about how much Ben sucks. Nick and Charlie talk about New Year’s and other things. Charlie gets several calls from the flat rental agency.
Notes:
Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, you are the human versions of red panda. Adorable, huggable, and endlessly entertaining. I love you very much.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie awoke from the dream with a gasp. It took him a moment to truly convince himself that it was a dream and that none of the gut-wrenching anxiety and despair he felt was real. He lay there for a moment catching his breath, then looked at his phone: 4:52. There was no way he was going back to sleep, not after that. Charlie blinked in the darkness, absently curling his fingers around the duvet and tugging it closer to his chin.
In the dream, Charlie had been looking into a version of the lavender shed through one of the glass windows. The inside of the shed wasn’t what it actually looked like, but instead a mixture of Charlie’s childhood bedroom and his old office, a combination of furniture packed into the small space. Nick was in the shed with Ben, sitting slumped on the bed as Ben paced in front of him, hurling cruelties.
“You’re pathetic,” dream-Ben snarled at Nick in a low, cutting voice. “Look at you. You can’t even say anything. You know it’s true. You’re weak and you’re stupid and nobody thinks you’re worth anything.”
Charlie had watched in horror, wondering what had happened. Even in the dream, he was aware that in real life, Nick had gone to the lavender shed to get rid of Ben. Standing at the lavender shed window, Charlie wondered what had happened - how had Ben gained the upper hand? How was he in front of Nick now, tearing him down and tearing him apart? Charlie banged on the glass, but neither Ben or Nick looked up.
“Charlie’s already sick of you,” said Ben, his lip curling. “He’s sick of how needy you are and how you’re constantly fawning over him. He knows how you feel - everyone can see it. Everyone can see your massive, sad crush on him.” Dream Ben paused and looked down at Nick. “It’s pathetic. He knows about your crush, and he hates it. He hates you.”
In the dream, Charlie had been shouting at the window as Nick’s head drooped, his eyes looking unimaginably hurt. “It’s not true!” Charlie was screaming, over and over. “Don’t – no, Nick! No, it’s not true!” The dream had turned into a loop of Charlie insisting it wasn’t true, it wasn’t real as Nick shrank on the bed, curling in on himself and collapsing, his face the picture of devastation.
Charlie had woken up when Nick fully disappeared, and could only now feel his heart start to settle. It wasn’t real, he told himself, trying to soothe the knot of horror in his chest. It was a dream. That didn’t happen to Nick. He’s okay. Charlie took a long breath and breathed in the relief. It was just in my head. Nick is okay. Charlie’s eyes flew back open as he thought about that. Was Nick okay? Nick was strong and confident and capable, yes, but still – what had it been like for him, dealing with Ben? For all Nick’s strength, Charlie already knew how tender Nick was, too. It was one of the things that Charlie loved most about Nick. He went into the world and just cared so deeply, and Charlie was seized by terror that dealing with Ben might have been painful for Nick, even more painful than it was for Charlie.
Knowing now more than ever that he wasn’t going back to sleep, Charlie got out of bed and dressed, heading downstairs. He’d have some coffee in the quiet and try to figure out what he wanted to say to Nick when they saw each other. Charlie knew that Nick wouldn’t be cruel, but still - it was bound to be awkward. Ben had shown up – fucking shown up – at Lavender Fields and Nick had needed to deal with him. No, Nick chose to deal with him, Charlie could hear the part of his mind that had been therapised say. Nick chose to deal with Ben, and now he was in the middle of all of it.
Charlie let out a tiny noise of surprise when he went into the kitchen to see Sarah already there, poised over the coffeemaker.
“Oh, Charlie,” she said, her forehead creasing a bit. “I hope I didn’t wake you with the noise.”
Charlie shook his head. “Not at all,” he said, stomach tightening a little. He had to tell her. It was her house; she deserved to know. He felt like he was a teenager again, standing shame-faced in front of Tao’s mum and stumbling to explain why there might be vomit on one of the carpets after a New Year’s Eve one year. “I, uh – it was a bit of a rough evening last night and I couldn’t sleep.”
There was a peculiar look on Sarah’s face, but it passed before Charlie could fully parse it. “Nick told me a bit,” Sarah said gently, and the steel vise around Charlie’s stomach clamped tighter. Sarah moved towards Charlie, and he was struck by how much her eyes looked like Nick’s, particularly when concerned. “I hope you’re not upset with him for telling me.”
“I’m not.” Charlie shook his head again, pressing his lips together tightly. Oh, god, she already knows. He looked down and then back up, surprised to not see a look of pity or discomfort on her face. Instead, it felt motherly and caring, her eyes searching Charlie’s face.
“Oh, Charlie,” she said, and Charlie felt something in his chest crack. She reached out her arms and Charlie stepped forward blindly into them, not even feeling embarrassed. Sarah just had – she had this comfort about her; one that made Charlie feel welcomed, cared for, and cared about. “I am so sorry you had to go through that.”
Charlie held tight to Sarah for another moment before they both released the hug, each sniffling a little. “Me too,” said Charlie with a little laugh, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “But I’m also really sorry that Nick had to go through that.” He chanced a look up at her and met her eyes briefly. “Did he – did Nick seem okay?”
There it was again, some look on Sarah’s face. It was almost – maybe a look of complete fondness? Love? Those made sense, if Sarah was thinking about Nick. “He did,” she said, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “I think it helped a lot for him to just process a bit – and that is not your fault,” she interrupted sternly, seeming to anticipate where Charlie’s brain had spun off to. “It sounds like your ex was a bloody idiot, if you’ll excuse the language.”
Charlie laughed again, this time a little louder. “The language? Sarah, I’ve spent time around Danny.”
“Oh, well then he was a twat,” Sarah said, and they both laughed. She sobered. “Nick is fine,” she repeated, her tone warm. “It’s clear that he really cares for you and wants to…” There was a tiny pause where it seemed as though Nick’s mum was searching for words. “To make sure you’re okay.” She looked at Charlie again with a soft smile. “From what I hear, it’s clear you deserve the world.”
Charlie gave a sniffing laugh. “I just have excellent marketing.”
Sarah laughed and it filled the kitchen like Nick’s did. “You certainly do.” She patted Charlie’s hand. “How do you feel this morning? About…” her voice dropped and Charlie could see the lioness in her, the one that would protect the people she loved. “About that man?”
“About Ben?” Charlie asked, blinking. He’d been thinking about Nick and about Sarah, not about Ben. Now that Charlie spent a moment, he realised how much… how much better he felt. Not about what Ben had done – that was something he’d need to massively unpack with his therapist – but about the things Charlie had said to him. It felt as though an enormous pressure had been released from Charlie’s chest, one that he hadn’t known was there. He’d asked Ben why he wanted to marry Charlie. He’d confronted Ben with questions that had been rattling in his mind for months. And Charlie had said… he had told Ben that he was worth it. Worth being put up with. Worth being loved. “I feel… stronger, maybe?”
Sarah’s face glowed at Charlie and he felt unreasonably pleased at the unspoken praise. “You are so strong,” she said, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “Nick’s made that very clear.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, blushing. He could feel the tips of his ears turning pink. Thinking about Nick and thinking about Nick talking to his mum about Charlie - that was a little too much fluster for Charlie to deal with right now. “Well,” Charlie said, making it clear that he was ready to move on. “How was… Mark?” He let the corner of his mouth tug up a little and Sarah grinned. It reminded him of Nick, in a way.
“Mark’s was lovely,” Sarah said, seemingly emphasising that it was Mark’s place that was lovely. She also happened to be blushing and averting her eyes.
“You stayed late?” Charlie made his voice as innocent as he could.
“Catching up with old friends is always a delight,” Sarah said, shooting a smile at Charlie. “Sometimes it stretches into long hours.”
“Mm,” agreed Charlie as he sipped the coffee that Sarah handed him, mentally cataloguing every second for Nick’s benefit.
Sarah chuckled. “I’m going to go see to a few chores and get the guest rooms clean – can you let Nick know?” she asked. Charlie nodded and she touched him once more on the hand, and Charlie felt his chest fill up with a gentle warmth, one that partially chased away the darkness of what Ben had tried to bring. “There are also muffins for you on the counter – chocolate ones, for your trip home.” Sarah smiled at Charlie’s astonished reaction, then patted him once more before heading out. “I’ll see you in a bit, Charlie.”
Charlie set about the kitchen, getting the water ready for tea and brewing more coffee for the morning’s guests. As he prepared for the day, Charlie could feel the easy comfort and relief from the conversation with Sarah slipping away. He’d see Nick next. Nick, who might be feeling all sorts of things. He’d been all right last night, sure, but maybe Nick had woken up feeling different. Maybe he was hurting this morning, or maybe he’d look at Charlie pityingly. His eyes would be kind, but they’d reflect that poor, disastrous Charlie pity. Charlie didn’t want to be the object of Nick’s pity. Charlie thought of what he wanted to say to Nick. He wanted to thank Nick for being there and for everything he’d done, but not in a grovelling way. Charlie wanted to express his appreciation, but suspected there was no way to truly do so. He mentally wrote and crossed out endless lines of dialogue and openers and none of it felt right. He’d done an admirable job of working himself into a spiral of anxiety when Nick came into the kitchen, hair rumpled in a way that was far too attractive.
“Hi,” Charlie said tentatively, placing a flask of tea on the counter for Nick.
“Hi,” Nick echoed, looking at Charlie. Truly looking at Charlie. Not with pity. Not with embarrassment. Just… looking at Charlie. There was a brief, breathless moment and then they both reached out at the same time, drawing each other close. Charlie tucked his head against Nick’s chest as Nick pulled him in tightly. “You all right?” murmured Nick into Charlie’s hair.
“Yeah,” said Charlie, nodding against Nick’s strong chest before reluctantly pulling away and looking at Nick. “I just wanted to thank you.” Charlie laughed softly when Nick held up a finger to wag at him, seizing Nick’s finger in his own. “Yes, again,” Charlie said, anticipating Nick’s question and making him smile. “You…I just appreciated what you did in getting… getting Ben away. From me and from here.” Charlie dropped Nick’s finger and sat in the silence for a moment, anger flaring anew that Ben had impacted his sanctuary like this. Then he looked back up at Nick, their eyes meeting. “But for also, like, talking about it last night, too. I just appreciate that you were there. Then and after.” Charlie attempted a smile, looking at Nick again. This beautiful, perfect, kind man. “Just… thank you.”
Nick gave Charlie a gentle smile back, his eyes locked on Charlie’s. Then the smile dropped a little, shifting into something else. Something that made Charlie’s stomach seize up in an entirely different sensation than the ones from this morning. “There will never be anything I won’t want to talk about with you, Charlie.”
You – I… what? Charlie’s brain demanded. Was that look on Nick’s face… Charlie felt himself spin dizzyingly back to the previous evening, right before Ben arrived, when it seemed like Nick was on the verge of… something. Charlie couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t think about what it had felt like to have Nick’s body around his on the sofa. His brain was so full with feelings and emotions and freedom and nerves that he couldn’t torture himself with fantasies about Nick right now. He could just torture Nick instead. “Anything?” Charlie asked in a cheeky tone, entirely ready to shift the conversation away from Ben. Permanently. “Including the conversation I had with your mum about her evening?”
Nick’s eyebrows furrowed, the soft expression disappearing. “You… you what?”
Charlie gave a casual toss of his shoulder, turning away. “Oh, she told me everything.”
Charlie could hear Nick harumph behind him. “Like how she sat distantly in a chair the whole evening and only exchanged bows and curtsies at the beginning and end of the evening?”
Charlie grinned and turned, giving Nick an apologetic wince. “Sorry, Nick. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, and when she does, a true gentleman doesn’t repeat it.”
He laughed aloud at the look of horror on Nick’s face, Nick immediately beginning to loudly hum, with his fingers in his ears. Charlie was still laughing as he tugged on Nick’s arm to get him to stop, giggling through his apologies. Oh fuck were Nick’s arms strong. He hadn’t been able to experience what it had truly been like to have Nick wrapped around him the evening before, not with the awfulness of what had happened. Now, though, he revelled in what it felt like to touch Nick’s arm, wishing he could have truly experienced it. “Nick,” Charlie said again, pulling at Nick’s arm to get one more delicious taste of muscle. “I’ll stop, I promise.” Nick pulled his hands away and Charlie released Nick’s arm with a start, not realising he had still been holding it. He took a breath, suddenly remembering that Nick didn’t know that he and Sarah actually had spoken. “I did actually… I spoke to your mum this morning. She’s upstairs getting the rooms ready for guests, she told me to tell you. But I told her… I told her what happened yesterday.” Charlie could feel his heart quicken and he looked up at Nick’s face briefly before looking away. “Since it was, like… at her house? I don’t know, I felt like I should. Or maybe I just wanted to, you know?” he said with a half a laugh, knowing that that was what it had been. Sarah’s warm kindness had made it so that Charlie felt comfortable to talk to her. “She’s just so lovely and kind. We talked for a while and…well, she did also tell me that you two spoke last night, too.” Charlie glanced up to see a look of panic on Nick’s face and he put his hand over Nick’s, feeling the warmth beneath his fingers. “And I’m really glad you spoke with her, honestly. I felt awful this morning, thinking of you having to deal with Ben again and then being alone. Charlie looked at Nick again, eyes meeting the perfect face as he pulled his hand back again. “I just wanted to tell you that. That she and I talked, and that I’m glad that you and she did, as well.”
“Thank you,” Nick said quietly, looking at Charlie again with that soft expression that made Charlie feel another stab of irrational hope. “I’m just glad that you’re okay, honestly.”
“I am,” said Charlie, nodding and considering. “Honestly, I’m… kind of great. I needed to say that to him. And it was just an underline of how much of a shitty person he is that he was drunk and that he… did that.” Charlie looked down, the sick feeling of what Ben had done present in his stomach and body but not all-encompassing. He looked up when Nick placed his hand on Charlie’s this time, taking in an unsteady breath – unsteady for several reasons now. “But that was the first time I had ever actually said that out loud. That I did deserve more.”
“Do.” Nick’s voice was immediate and firm.
Charlie looked up. “What?”
“Do deserve more,” Nick said, not taking his eyes off Charlie’s, though he devastatingly moved his hand away. Was this a thing, now? Did they touch each other’s hands? Were they mates who occasionally laid their hands on each other's?
Charlie blushed, trying to settle his brain back down. “Do deserve more.”
There was a pause where they both smiled at each other and Charlie’s stomach did a quivery flip. “Well,” said Nick, breaking the silence and smiling at Charlie. “Now you’re in the club.”
Charlie cocked his head. “The club?”
“The Charlie Spring fan club,” said Nick, grinning at Charlie. “We have pins.”
Charlie laughed. “Oh, it’s a ‘we’ thing?”
Nick widened his eyes, making a comically naive face. “No, it’s a large thing.” Charlie repeated what Nick had said in his brain and then half-laughed, half groaned at Nick’s absolutely wretched humour. “But yes, it’s a well-established club,” said Nick in an authoritative voice. “We have Henry and Nellie – of course – Amy and the Badgers…” Nick was counting on his fingers. “My mum, yes, then four of the five portrait people – no, I can’t tell you which one didn’t opt to join, Charlie, I am the secretary and ‘secret’ is literally part of my title – oh, and Elle and Tao. Tao’s the president; he even has this spinning bowtie and loves to make up rhyming chants about you.”
Charlie’s face had been all over the place during Nick’s monologue, trying to swallow back his giggles, and he burst into laughter now, imagining Tao loudly proclaiming his love for Charlie with whimsical trappings. “Oh my god. I can see that. No, that’s not right. I can’t unsee it is more like it.” He looked at Nick with haunted eyes. “Oh, god, Nick, now every time he is lecturing me about French cinema, I will only be able to picture him in a spinning bow tie! How dare you, sir.”
Nick winced in apology. “Risks of club membership, I’m afraid. It’s in our charter.”
Charlie laughed again, then glanced at his phone. “Oh, shit,” he said, looking up at Nick. “I need to head back to London and get everything settled for my days there this week.”
Nick looked aggrieved. “And miss a Sarah Nelson breakfast?!”
Charlie gestured smugly towards the muffins on the counter that Sarah had told him about. “She made me the chocolate muffins to go.”
“I knew it,” muttered Nick. “I knew you’d be the favourite.”
Charlie made his face as earnest as possible. “She said there’s some lovely hay for you in the barn.”
Nick laughed, then sighed dramatically. “Well, I guess I should be thankful for what I have to eat just like a Spanish cow. They appreciate what they have.”
Charlie crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Nick. “Whatever this is, don’t.”
“They live their life with a real spirit of grassy-ass, you know?”
Charlie went “no bones” and let himself slide to the kitchen floor as Nick roared with laughter, giving himself a self-high five. He heard steps and then Sarah’s amused voice rang out.
“Charlie, darling? All right, dear?”
Charlie felt a stab of shame, to be acting so silly and immature in front of Nick’s mum. “Killed by bad jokes,” he mumbled, getting up and brushing himself off.
Sarah nodded, taking a businesslike sip of her tea. “Ah. Well, that’s a rare way to go. Statistically there’s less than a pun-in-a-million chance.”
Nick laughed and Charlie shoved his face into his hands, hiding a massive grin. Of course Sarah made him immediately comfortable. Of course she did. “Okay, now I really have to go,” Charlie said with a laugh. He got his bag (which Nick carried, of course) and said goodbye to Sarah, thanking her once more. Nick walked Charlie to his car and there wasn’t even a pause when they both fell into each other’s arms, bodies pressed close.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days?” murmured Nick against Charlie’s hair. Charlie closed his eyes and pretended, just for a minute, that he and Nick were a couple and Nick was his boyfriend, whispering soft things into his ear.
“A couple of days,” he agreed, smiling at Nick as they both drew back. With that, Charlie got in his car and waved as he backed out. Nick Nelson. God, what a hold that man had on him.
-
“Are you motherfucking serious?”
“Yeah.”
“That dickpickle fucking showed the fuck up at Lavender Fields?!”
“He did. Does dickpickle mean, like, size of dick? Or the dick is pickled?”
“I will impale each of his balls on a dull pencil. I will make him eat every fingernail clipping in a New York City nail salon. I will–”
Charlie let out a short laugh. “I get it, Amy.”
“What the fuck?! Tell me everything.”
Charlie was driving back to London, Amy on speakerphone. They spoke most Sundays and he knew that she’d hear anyway. He told her everything - about Ben showing up and about Charlie speaking to him. He told her about the parts where he was proud of himself, and the parts he was ashamed of – where he’d crumbled and let Ben walk all over him again. Amy growled and protested during those parts, vehemently insisting that it wasn’t on Charlie and he’d been incredibly strong. She became quiet when Charlie told her about Ben grabbing and assaulting him, letting him tell the story uninterrupted.
“... And then Nick rushed out and threw him across the porch,” Charlie finished, recalling the moment. “He made Ben go to the lavender shed to sleep it off and, like, held me for a little.” Charlie’s voice dropped to a mumble. He hadn’t meant to use those words with Amy. They sounded intimate.
“Charlie.” Amy’s voice was more serious than he’d heard it before. “You did not deserve that.”
“I know.”
“And it was not your fault.”
“I know.”
“I know you know, but do you know? Like, do you know it to be true? You did not deserve that,” Amy repeated, her voice emphatic. “He did that because he is a bad person. He did not do that because of anything you did. He would have done that to anyone, not just you. This is not something that you caused, Charlie, do you understand me?”
Charlie let out a breath, something in his chest dislodging as he did. “Yeah,” he said, nodding to himself in the car. “Yeah,” he repeated.
“What happened after that?”
Charlie told her about Nick dealing with Ben, though he wasn’t sure what had happened. He told her about him and Nick talking, and then Charlie talking to Sarah the next morning, then Nick again. “Nick’s been amazing,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “He’s been so kind, and, like… understanding, and protective. God, he’s the best man I’ve–” Charlie realised after a moment how he was getting dangerously close to revealing his feelings, if he hadn’t already. Honestly, Amy probably knew how Charlie felt already. How could she not? But her allegiance was to Nick first, not Charlie. It wouldn’t be fair to confide in her and not expect her to feel torn between Charlie and telling Nick. “He’s been a good friend,” Charlie finished lamely, though he could have said a thousand more words.
Amy paused. “He is,” she finally said, her voice with a note of something in it. “How are you feeling now, though? After all that?”
Charlie considered and then spoke, telling her how much stronger he felt despite the terrifying moment. They talked for nearly an hour, until Charlie pulled into his car park space and got on the underground to Elle and Tao’s. He knew it would be another rehash with them, and he was grateful that he’d been able to process with someone slightly removed from the situation, especially someone who’s gone through things with an awful ex.
Elle and Tao were predictably horrified and enraged, Tao’s threats more academic but nearly as creative as Amy’s. (Including threats to figure out how to get on the dark web either to purchase illegal things in Ben’s name and/or somehow put Ben on the dark web? Charlie wasn’t sure.) Elle sat with Charlie into the evening, asking him gentle questions and helping Charlie process through things. Not everything was fixed and not everything was better, but Charlie still felt whole, something he had rarely felt after blow-ups with Ben in the past. Charlie drifted off that night, reflecting on the people in his life and their fierce love.
Charlie did deserve it. He deserved love.
-
Charlie couldn’t stop giggling. Nick was squished in the back of the truck, loudly insisting that he was fine and he was comfortable, and no, it really wasn’t as cramped as it looked. Nick was hunched over, the branches of a massive Christmas tree quivering over his shoulder as the truck rattled and bounced. He kept slapping away branches and swearing under his breath, Charlie and Sarah exchanging private smiles in the front seat.
The whole trip had been a delight, though Charlie had fought his brain the whole time, scolding it that the trip was not in fact a Hallmark Christmas movie and Nick wasn’t going to spill hot chocolate on Charlie’s fancy new coat, setting off a series of hijinks and shenanigans that culminated in a single, non-French kiss. He’d watched Nick’s eyes light up like a child as he pointed to a massive tree that he proclaimed would look perfect in the parlour. The perfect tree put up a perfect fight and strained Nick’s perfect muscles, which Charlie enjoyed just a bit too much. Nick had needed to take his coat off to wrestle the tree, and Charlie had enjoyed a non-obstructed view of the sexiest biceps in England.
When they returned home, Charlie had tried to beg off of decorating the tree, knowing that some families had lovely traditions that they enjoyed together. He assumed that Nick and Sarah would be like that; the smiling happy perfect picture of a family lovingly hanging ornaments together and not seething across the house at one another. Ah, Christmas with the Springs. Nick, of course, had insisted Charlie join, and Charlie was delighted by the impressive array of handmade ornaments, including a reindeer and a clay cast of six-year-old Nick’s hand that nearly made Charlie tear up. Nick enthusiastically told Charlie that, “he and James could duet” with Charlie on drums and James on piano, which of course probably made sense in Nick’s perfect brain.
It was a bit sad when Sarah left on Thursday, though she warmly told Charlie how wonderful he was and that she was looking forward to when she saw him next. She said it with such conviction that Charlie didn’t tell her that they probably wouldn’t see each other again as he’d be leaving Lavender Fields in a few weeks. Instead, he took in her care and affection, letting the maternal warmth wash over him and fill him up in a way that he hadn’t realised he’d craved. Charlie stepped away so that Nick and his mum could say goodbye to one another, though he’d lingered by the window where he was unseen, watching how lovingly Nick and his mum interacted with each other.
When Nick came back in, he smiled sadly at Charlie and reached out his arms, Charlie embracing him. He knew it was hard for Nick to say goodbye to his mum, though he’d see her in a couple weeks over Christmas. As they hugged, Charlie reflected on how… touchy the two of them had been after Ben. It was like the last invisible barrier had lifted, maybe after Nick had held Charlie that evening. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but just – more. More hands on each other’s, or more shoulders nudging against one another. They were small moments, but still ones that made Charlie’s stomach squirm with pleasure when they happened.
The rest of the week it was just the two of them, and Charlie loved it. He loved Sarah being there, but there was also something pure and magical about sharing a kitchen with Nick in the mornings, both Nick and Charlie moving quickly to help take care of guests. Every day, Charlie would come down after work and he and Nick would be together – watching a show, eating dinner, talking. It was truly lovely.
They taught each other silly games, like Nick’s teleportation thought experiment. He and Seamus always talked about if they could teleport once per month, when they would use it, emphasising that it was once per calendar month.
“I can’t believe you’d use your teleportation tomorrow!” Nick was groaning good-naturedly at Charlie on Friday night. Charlie had to leave Saturday as he was attending a gala Saturday evening for work. Charlie and Anita planned on going together, getting drunk, and inventing stories about people like they did every year. It was fun, but Charlie wished he was going to be with Nick instead. Or rather - he wished he was going with Nick, but that was just a silly fantasy.
Charlie tilted his head at Nick and gave a cheeky grin. “You said the rules of the game were that you got one teleportation per month - yes, one-way only!” he cut in, knowing that Nick was going to explain (again) that the teleportation had no return trip. “You also said that it was up to me to decide when I was going to use it. Not you, Nicholas Nelson.”
Nick laughed, leaning back on the sofa and looking utterly snuggleable. “I’m trying to help you, Charlie,” he insisted, eyes wide and emphatic. “I mean, think about it! We’re still only in the first half of December, and the holidays are coming up. What if you’re, like, hung over after Christmas and you have to go see family? Or you’re in terrible traffic on your way to come here for New Year’s Eve and you want to use it then?”
Charlie blinked, amazed that Nick had brought up New Year’s. That hadn’t been, like — a throwaway invitation? Nick furrowed his brow, looking confused at Charlie’s confusion. “Remember?” he said, looking at Charlie. “I mentioned ages ago that the team was coming here, I don’t know, like a thousand times. There’s a Badgers match on the 30th in London, then everyone is spending New Year’s Eve here. You’re coming, right? Do you remember me asking you if you were going to join a few weeks ago?”
Charlie felt a smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “I remember.” The fact that Nick talked about Charlie coming – again – amazed him, something he tried to swallow back. In the past, he’d had boyfriends and flames invite him to something, then never bring it up again until the event had passed. Nick wasn’t like that. Nick wasn’t like that at all. He took a breath and tried to smooth past the moment, yet another pothole of affection on the pitted road of his crush on Nick. “I don’t know, though,” he said slowly, putting cheek in his voice. “That lot made me feel so unwelcome last time, especially Danny. I don’t know if it’s really my sort of thing to hang out with fun people. Oh, and you.”
Nick laughed. “How dare you accuse me of not being fun, Charles Elvira?”
“We’re just dropping the last name entirely, then?”
“I will have you know that Club LF is going off every weekend!”
“Nick, you literally insisted that we play Cluedo two weekends ago.”
Nick raised an eyebrow and grinned, raising Charlie’s body temperature along with it. “You’re still just mad that I won.”
Charlie huffed in protest, shaking his head vehemently and immediately going back to their mock-argument the other evening. “Like I said, Cluedo is ridiculous with two players and a win doesn’t really even count if–” Charlie stopped his diatribe, catching the tolerantly-smirking, utterly-sexy look on Nick's face. “I – you…” He pointed at Nick, grinning. “Shut up.”
“Haters gonna hate,” laughed Nick as he brushed off some imaginary dust off his shoulder, making Charlie laugh. They both giggled for a moment and then Nick put his hand on Charlie’s making him jump slightly. He looked at Nick’s large, strong hand on his and then back at Nick, unable to keep the soft smile off his face. “Please come,” said Nick, sounding like he truly meant it. “I want you to be there.”
Charlie paused and let his body fill up with the sunny feeling of Nick’s words and look. Nick wanted him there for New Year’s. That was… that was incredible. And it was so Nick. “Okay,” Charlie said softly. “Yeah, I’d love to.” Nick smiled at him, and then removed his hand from Charlie’s like he hadn’t even realised they were touching. “That’ll be nice. And this year we actually have off from the 23rd until the 3rd of January, so this just saves me from having to spend all of Christmas with my parents. It’s truly the best gift you could give me.” Charlie grinned at Nick, having shared some of his family Christmas traditions of passive-aggressiveness, stony silences, and hiding in rooms.
“Great,” replied Nick, a smile hitching up the side of his mouth. “Then you could just come back here on the 29th or 30th, we can go to the Badgers match, then everyone will stay here for the holiday.” Or forever.
Charlie drew his chin in, hoping he looked as taken aback as he was, making Nick laugh. “A…match? Like…I go to a professional rugby match?”
Nick bounced his eyebrows at Charlie. “Yep.”
“Sounds straight; I’m out.”
“Tell that to Danny and James,” Nick laughed. Then he tilted his head at Charlie, looking almost – almost flirtatious. Charlie had a totally normal reaction to that in his trousers area, by which to say there was none at all. Mostly. “Fine. You can stay with your parents the whole time and not get to see my very captionable play-by-play match facial reactions from the best seats in the house.”
Charlie pretended to consider, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he said, his mouth twitching up again at the corner. “I’ll go.”
Nick grinned back. “Fine,” he teased. “You should invite anybody you want, like Elle and Tao. It would be great to have them here.” Then Nick tilted his head back and forth as though he was considering, pausing in thought. “It would be great to have Elle here,” Nick said in a measured tone. “It would be….” he remained silent for a few beats. “...To have Tao here.”
Charlie laughed aloud. Nick got it. “That sounds amazing,” he replied, looking at Nick and trying not to shake his head at this perfect, giving, lovely man who had his entire heart. Inviting Charlie was one thing, but inviting Elle and Tao? That was… that was beyond what Charlie had ever thought about in his bullets that he’d made of the ideal, Nick-shaped partner. “Would you — you truly wouldn’t mind? Having my friends join you? And your friends?”
“Our friends,” Nick scoffed, and Charlie blushed brilliantly. “Honestly, I feel like they like you more than me, anyway.”
Charlie laughed and took out an imaginary notebook, making pretend marks. “Sarah Nelson, check. Nick Nelson’s friends, check. The plan to take over Nick Nelson’s life is going perfectly.”
Nick winked at Charlie (fucking winked at Charlie, which should have been a crime punishable by snogging). “Well, Amy’s already a done deal; she’s fully abandoned me for you.” Charlie grinned at that. “She keeps bragging to me about your conversations,” Nick said, imitating her voice and making it drop with Canadian. “‘Ooh, Charlie said this. And then he said that a-boot this thing. Let’s go to Tim’s, eh? And then we exchange loonies and toques and oh, sorry, those are privileged conversations you’re not part of, Nick’.”
Charlie’s heart had seized up, hearing Nick say that Amy had told him about their conversations. Charlie had tried to be cautious, but he knew that he had essentially spilled his crush to Amy a thousand times over, gushing about Nick and how wonderful he was. Thankfully, Nick didn’t seem to allude to any of that, instead gently reinforcing cultural stereotypes. Charlie forced himself to relax and sighed dramatically. “You got me. I was only pretending to be friends with you so I could receive hockey and workout memes from some terrifying, tiny menace woman in Leeds.”
“Knew it,” said Nick smugly, grinning at Charlie.
Charlie laughed and started telling Nick about the last conversation he and Amy had, where she’d enthusiastically told him about “head-butting lessons” that she was taking with Danny, a concept that both delighted and terrified him.
The rest of the night and the next morning passed quickly – too quickly, really. Too soon, Nick and Charlie were standing by Charlie’s car, Nick having carried his bag down as always. Charlie fought the desire to step closer to Nick and run his hand up Nick’s chest, like a besotted teenager in a film. Instead, he settled for smiling at Nick after they hugged, recalling their conversation the previous day. “So – New Year’s Eve is set, then?”
“And the match,” grinned Nick in the way that melted and solidified Charlie all at once. “Don’t forget about that.”
Charlie rolled his eyes, feigning capitulation. “Nope, won’t forget that one. Can’t, really. I’ll be Googling, ‘Rugby match fire outfits’ and ‘etiquette when rugby companion gets thrown out for yell-y behaviour’ for the next two and a half weeks.”
Nick snorted. “Just you wait, Charlie. You’re going to the match with a star.” Nick raised his hands and drew them across the sky in an arc, breathing out to make it sound like the air was rushing between his hands.
Charlie laughed. “Ah, Nick Nelson in his natural habitat. I can’t wait.” He smiled and then opened his car door, pausing, his arm hooked over the door. “I’ll see you back in a few days, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, putting his hands in his pockets and smiling. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”
-
As should be expected, the world fell apart on a Monday.
“Hello?” Charlie had happened to be on a walk with Anita, coming back from getting coffee. His phone buzzed with a number he didn’t recognise but thought it might be an editor he was working with.
“Charlie?”
“Speaking.”
“Hello, mate, this is Evan from the rental agency, calling you from our main company line. Doing well?”
“Oh, hi,” Charlie said, his stomach tightening. “Doing well, thanks. Are you calling with a flat construction update?” He hoped desperately that the construction crew had inadvertently set up next to a magnet factory and all of their tools had flown away and disappeared.
“We’re pleased to let you know that the flat is ready,” Evan said. “I know it’s been longer than expected – and we do apologise – but all the work is done. I think you already have the key, yes?”
“Yes,” Charlie replied with a nearly empty brain, distantly remembering that they had mailed it recently. He was numb and hollow, like all of his insides had been neatly scooped out with a serrated, sharp spoon.
“Fantastic, then,” said Evan, chipper as anything. “In that case, you can move in immediately. We knocked a hundred quid off for the month in appreciation for how you’ve been about all of this. Let us know if you need anything, all right?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, his mouth dry. This was it. It was over. His time at Lavender Fields was over. Charlie thought he had weeks more - weeks. That wasn’t realistic, of course - by the calendar Charlie only had a week or possibly two based on what Evan had said a few weeks ago. He’d entirely forgotten the calendar, though. Charlie had thought only of Nick, of Lavender Fields, and of both of them feeling like home. Reflecting now, Charlie dully thought that he’d tricked himself into imagining that his stay would stretch on, with more heartstopping moments where Nick was close to him and where Nick seemed poised on the precipice of saying something. Charlie had fallen into the most human trap – the assumption he’d always have more time. Now it was over. His time at Lavender Fields was over.
Charlie felt a surge of nausea in his stomach, rising hot and cloying up into his throat. If Charlie didn’t go to Lavender Fields any more, would he see Nick? Ever? Charlie could invite Nick to London, sure. But that wasn’t something that mates did. That was something intimate that happened with boyfriends. And no matter what delicious fantasy Charlie had been living in, imagining a what if with Nick, there was no what if. There just was Charlie and Nick, living in a real world where Charlie would go back to London and Nick to Leeds. They might message every so often, more frequently at first. Then it would drop off slowly, Charlie questioning if he should message first yet again, wondering what friends and women Nick was meeting and falling for.
What people Nick might be falling for. With all that happened with Ben right after, Charlie hadn’t gotten to think as much about the conversation with Nick in front of the fire. Nick had seemed to be hovering on the edge of something, like maybe… well, maybe it wasn’t just women that Nick would date. As achingly enticing as that line of thought was, Charlie firmly shut it down. Charlie was leaving, and so even if it were true, it wouldn’t matter.
Maybe there would be a trip, one where Charlie said that Nick should come visit London. He would, Nick being so lovely, but he’d stay at a hotel. They’d meet up during the day and go sightseeing and get meals, and then step away to different stone and steel buildings at night, separated by cement and traffic. No more cosy nights sitting in the dining room, their faces both lit by the soft light. No nights in the parlour on the sofa together, Charlie’s legs tucked underneath him and Nick’s spread out, his hand occasionally landing on Charlie’s arm.
No more of any of that.
Charlie recognised that Anita was talking to him, her face creased with concern. “Hey, Charlie,” she was saying, perhaps not for the first time. “What’s wrong, love?”
Charlie shook his head, not trusting himself to talk right now without bursting into tears. “It’s… can you give me a minute? Meet you back inside?”
“Of course,” said Anita with another worried look. She took Charlie’s coffee and squeezed him on the arm. “Come find me any time today, okay?”
Charlie nodded wordlessly, swallowing hard against the emotion rising in his throat. He needed to make plans. He needed to figure out how to move his stuff in. He needed to work out logistics, figure out things with Elle and Tao. He needed to change his post to the new flat and update his work documents and…
Charlie needed to talk to Nick. Charlie felt another wave of sickness rise and mingle with the sadness. God, he wanted to hear Nick’s voice right now, as fucking awful as it was going to be to tell Nick he was leaving. Heart aching, Charlie opened his phone and tapped into Nick’s contact from his Favourites.
He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. Charlie was not going to cry.
His resolve almost immediately broke when Nick answered, his voice sounding worried and tender. He was probably confused about why Charlie was calling on a work day, Charlie realised. Because Nick thought about stuff like that. “Charlie?”
Charlie’s throat worked before he could get any words out. “Uh, hey.”
“It’s… aren’t you at work?”
Charlie gripped the phone hard in his hand, not even noticing how the biting cold sliced into his skin. “Yeah, I just stepped outside for a moment. I — the people from the flat called. The place is all ready. I can actually start moving my things in tonight after work.”
“Fuuuuuuuuu–inally,” said Nick, his voice sounding tight and flat. “Finally, yeah? That’s what you must be thinking - finally. You get to have your own place again.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie. His own place. His place not with Nick. That wasn’t really right, though. Lavender Fields was Nick’s place. Charlie was just a guest, and now Nick could finally get back to his normal life. Charlie could, too. “Finally, yeah.”
“That’s… nice.” Nick’s voice was entirely unlike Charlie had heard it before, containing none of his usual joy and warmth. Charlie didn’t know if he’d feel joy and warmth ever again.
“Now I can be out of your and Elle and Tao’s hair, I guess,” said Charlie, closing his eyes and forcing back the tears.
Nick sighed, an exhausted sound. There was a pause, and then when he spoke again, Charlie could hear pained emotion in his tone. “That’s… I’ve loved having you at Lavender Fields, Charlie.”
“I’ve loved being there,” said Charlie, his chest aching. God, he wished he were with Nick right now. What he would give for Nick to be holding him right now, the two of their bodies close together and never separating.
I don’t want to go.
“I… do you want help moving stuff in?”
Charlie blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that offer. Nick had no business having to do that for him, though Charlie’s heart jumped at the idea of seeing Nick again. Maybe Nick holding him again, too. “Oh,” he said, recovering. “You wouldn’t have to do that. And… I mean, aren’t there guests?”
“I can cancel the reservations.” Charlie’s heart broke at the way Nick’s voice sounded, always eager to help Charlie.
Charlie shook his head, even though Nick couldn’t see him. That beautiful, perfect man was too kind for his own good. “No,” Charlie said, even though refusing Nick’s company felt antithetical to who he was as a person. “Elle and Tao are here, and I’m going to hire people to bring stuff over from the storage unit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” replied Charlie, pressing his mouth into a line to stop himself from crying out that he didn’t want to leave; he never wanted to leave. There was a long pause, and then the two of them spoke at nearly the same time.
“I’m going to miss having you here.”
“It’s going to be so weird not being there with you.”
Charlie let out a soft laugh and Nick joined him.
“Well…you’ll be back for New Year’s,” Nick said quietly. He sounded sad, which was at least a tiny bit of comfort.
“And this weekend, to get my stuff,” said Charlie, stomach flipping at the thought of driving away from Lavender Fields and Nick for the last time. “I was thinking that maybe I could come down Friday after work and stay the night and then bring my stuff back Saturday. I can come after….” Charlie had been saying all of this mechanically, repeating the awful details that had already begun to spin in his mind, the mundane checkboxes that would upend everything he’d settled into. Now, he realised what he was saying – Friday, when Nick and Charlie went into town together. He could come after Nick got back. There were going to be no more trips into town for them. “...After you get back from the trip to town.”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed, voice flat. “Let’s plan on that.”
“Okay,” said Charlie. He could feel his lips trembling and took the quietest inhale he could, breath shaking.
“Charlie…” Nick started. Charlie gripped the phone, staring hard at nothing like he could see Nick if he concentrated hard enough. It sounded like there was so much in Nick’s voice. Then Nick sighed, and his tone dropped. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“Friday, yeah,” said Charlie.
They said goodbye and Charlie leaned against the brick wall on the outside of his building. It was cold, the chill seeping through Charlie’s jacket and into his body. The wall was cold. The world was cold. Charlie was cold.
Everything was cold.
-
“Hey gorgeous!”
Charlie blinked, confused why any person in the world would be happy right now. He had snatched his phone up without looking at it, assuming it was one of the moving or logistics places he had spoken to over the course of the last two days. His clouded mind cleared, the voice clicking in his head. “Amy?”
“Sorry I missed our chat Sunday,” Amy said, sounding like she was moving around with her phone on speaker. “I had something I needed to do in Sale, if you know what I mean.” She paused, Charlie still too rattled from the last 36 hours to respond. “You there?”
It was Tuesday after work, and Charlie was boxing up some of his things at Elle and Tao’s. It had been miserable since that first phone call. Anita, Elle, and Tao had all been lovely in their own ways, but nothing changed how gutted Charlie felt. And now Amy was calling him, another lovely person. Charlie pressed his lips together, unsure why the emotion was welling up and spilling out. Then again – this was Amy. Amy, who he would not have met without Nick. Nick, who Charlie was leaving in several days. “I…” Charlie’s voice caught and he found himself unable to go on.
“Oh, Charlie,” said Amy, her voice reflecting concern. “Did something happen with Ben? Are you safe?”
“Yeah, I’m safe,” responded Charlie, voice quavering. “It’s just… I heard back from the rental people. The people from my new flat. It’s ready. I’m moving in this week.”
Amy made a soft, shocked sound. “Oh fuck, Charlie. That’s… wow.” She paused. “How do you feel about moving into your own place?”
Charlie sniffled. “I mean – okay? Like, it’s good to officially have a place that’s not me and Ben’s. It’s good to have something separate, but… But…” Charlie’s lip trembled and he used his sleeve to mop at his eyes and nose, trying to stem the flow. It was too late. Charlie’s heart and the dam broke at the same time. “I’m going to miss it so much, Amy.” Charlie let the tears flow out now, hot and unstoppable. “I’m going to miss all of you, too.”
“Charlie,” said Amy, her voice reflecting devastation. “Oh, you’re not going to lose us, babes.”
Charlie nodded to himself and brushed at his eyes again. “I just – god, Amy, I had no idea what it would be like when I got there in September. When I think back to how I felt and how different I feel now…” He trailed off, not knowing how to say in a non-maudlin way how Lavender Fields had changed Charlie. Charlie had come back to life at Lavender Fields. It was like the colours had been sipped out of his life, so slowly he hadn’t noticed it. With Nick, Charlie had started to see how bright the world could be and how beautiful some people were. Charlie had started to believe not only in goodness again, but also – himself. Now that would all be gone. Would Charlie’s colours start to fade again? Would he descend back into the grey grimness of mundane life, knowing that the most vibrant person he’d ever met was gone forever?
Charlie squeezed his eyes closed. The words spilled out of him, heedless and necessary. “I’m going to miss him so much.” The last word ended on a sob and he let himself cry for a moment, Amy murmuring and holding space for him.
“You’re not going to lose him either,” Amy said quietly once Charlie had brought himself back together again.
“It’ll be different,” Charlie said in a monotone. “You know it will be. You know how it goes. It’s like those best friends that you meet on vacation and then once they’re gone they fade out of your life.”
Amy scoffed. “Do you want to let Nick fade out of your life?”
“No,” said Charlie immediately. “But… but what if I fade out of his?”
Amy made a strange sound, like a suppressed noise of frustration. She sighed, then spoke again. “You won’t, Charlie,” she said finally. “I know how important you are to Nick.”
“He’s so important to me, too,” whispered Charlie. He paused, then admitted it. “I don’t want to leave.” Charlie felt an immediate surge of regret – that was so pathetic. He had a place like an adult; he didn’t need to be desperate to play sleepover with his crush. God, Charlie was sad, maybe–
“I know,” said Amy soothingly, her tone somewhat putting Charlie at ease. “I know how close you and Nick are to… to each other,” she said, clearing her throat. “Nick has said so many times how amazing it is to have you there.” There was a clattering of sound and Charlie heard a burst of bright Aussie-tinged singing, stomach twisting when he thought of only seeing Danny and the rest of the Badgers once more, on New Year’s. If that even still happened before the inevitable fadeaway. “Fuck, Charlie, I am so sorry, I need to go - can I call you this week?”
“You don’t have to–” Charlie started, already embarrassed about how vulnerable and needy he’d been.
He could practically hear Amy roll her eyes through the phone and it helped a little. “Sure, Jan. And you don’t have to overthink things. Let’s both say stupid things that we’re still going to do anyways, right?”
Charlie gave a halfhearted chuckle and agreed, ringing off. He sat in the half-packed living room of Elle and Tao’s for a moment and considered the call with Amy. She had to know how he felt about Nick now, if she hadn’t before. Fuck it, thought Charlie numbly, shaking his head and putting down his phone. Maybe if everything wasn’t terrible, he might have cared.
But everything was terrible.
-
On Friday, Charlie was arranging things in the new flat. He’d moved most of his stuff in from storage on Thursday night and Elle and Tao had come over as well. They’d purportedly been there to help, though Tao’s help had been mostly limited to critiquing the building’s design features (“postmodern bullshit, that’s what it is,” Tao had muttered at the art deco sculpture in the building lobby) and Elle’s had been talking to Charlie with gentle, probing questions. How did Charlie feel about moving in? What did it feel like to leave Lavender Fields? How did Nick seem to feel about Charlie leaving? Charlie had answered some of her questions, but skirted others. It felt too painful to talk about seeing Nick and saying goodbye that weekend.
Charlie had endured a miserable, sleepless night in the new flat. It was a gorgeous place, with exposed beams and decent views from the seventh-story window. It was gorgeous and it wasn’t home, not at all. Charlie had lain awake in bed, none of the familiar sounds around him: None of the soft sounds of Elle and Tao or the gentle creaks of Lavender Fields, the wind making the trees sigh through the windows.
He’d taken Friday off to unpack and then go to Lavender Fields that afternoon, though Charlie was sick at the thought. He’d see Nick that evening and Saturday morning and then – when? Never? Charlie knew that Nick was eager about the whole New Year’s thing, but every man was eager about extending an invitation until he wasn’t. Charlie exhaled morosely. Nick wasn’t like that, he knew. But to see Nick even just once more for New Year’s felt like a cruel tease if it was the last time it was going to happen. He was putting some books on his much-loved shelf when there was a call from a number he didn’t recognise, though it looked like it was a London number.
“Hello?”
“Oi, is this Charlie?”
“Speaking.”
“Charlie!” said the voice in greeting, a thick Manchester accent. “Afraid I have some rotten news about the flat.”
Charlie frowned and looked at the phone again. “Sorry, who is this?”
“Yeah, sorry, this is Boris from the rental agency. You well, mate?”
“Boris?” Charlie asked. “What happened to Evan?”
“Who? Oh, yeah, Evan. He’s… dead.”
“What?!”
There was some muttering on the other end of the phone. “Sorry, I meant that he’s dead to us,” Boris clarified, and Charlie’s racing heart settled. “He was dismissed a few days ago – so this will be the new contact number for you for all things flat-related.”
“Dismissed? For what?”
“For being a cheeky cun– countryman,” Boris said, stumbling over the last word. “Cheeky bloke moved to the country, can you believe it? Didn’t tell us at the office at all.”
“Oh,” said Charlie, brow furrowing. “Uh - you said you had bad news?”
“Unfortunately so,” Boris said, voice now sympathetic. “You know those bloody huge beams in your place?” Charlie glanced up and made a noise of assent. “They’re infested with woodworms, mate. Just heaps of them in there.”
Charlie suppressed a yelp and stepped away from the closest beam, eyeing it warily. “What are woodworms?!”
“Little fucking blighters that ruin everything,” Boris said eagerly, another noise behind him.
Charlie jumped when a woman spoke, a clipped Scouse accent this time. “Mr. Spring, I apologise for my employee’s language. Boris is still learning about professionalism; this is his first office role. My name is Emily, the head of the building management organisation that handles your building.” She rattled off her credentials, the name matching the leasing organisation that controlled Charlie’s place. “As Boris… colourfully said, the beams that were brought into your place came from a forest in southeast England. We got a notification from the land owners that they discovered those trees were filled with woodworm larvae.”
“What are woodworms?!” Charlie asked again, baffled.
“A woodworm is the wood-eating larvae of many species of beetle. It is also a generic description given to the infestation of a wooden item – normally part of a dwelling or the furniture in it – by these larvae,” recited Emily as if she was reading off of something. “Basically, the beetles lay eggs in trees and those larvae hatch and can eat into the wood. They can take years to reach the adult form of their life cycle, which is why it was just discovered instead of before.”
Charlie retreated to the kitchen, looking at the ceiling as though it might attack. “Are they dangerous?”
“Not to people, but very dangerous to structures,” said Emily. “We have to do a full mitigation on the flat – there are a few options we can try out, like freezing and starving out the oxygen, but clearly you can’t be there for that. Do you have a place you could stay for a minimum of a month? All moving costs and rent will be covered by us, of course; we know that this is entirely out of your control.”
“I… “ Charlie’s brain was momentarily broken. Woodworms? Beams? Place to stay? Nick? He organised his thoughts enough to respond. “Uh, yeah.” Despite the utter insanity of what was happening, Charlie felt a tiny smile slide on his face. If Nick agreed, then he might be able to go back to Lavender Fields. It was as if a jail door that had slammed shut on Charlie had creaked back open. “I should have a place, yeah.”
“That’s brill,” said Boris, back on the phone. “Just brill.” He and Emily passed along a few other details to Charlie, giving him the name of a moving company to shift his wooden furniture to storage and would charge to the building management account, apologising a few more times for the inconvenience.
Charlie hung up and stared at the wall. Woodworms? This whole flat thing had been a bit of a disaster – though a disaster that meant Charlie had stayed at Lavender Fields longer than expected – and this was just the most predictably unpredictable next thing.
Charlie immediately took his phone back out, opening up his Favourites. This all hinged on Nick agreeing to host him – again – and Charlie needed to do that first. He felt a tiny stab of irrational worry that Nick might think he was making this up as it was so patently ridiculous, and so he emphasised his indignance when Nick picked up the phone, worry in his voice when he greeted Charlie.
“Woodworms! ”
There was a pause. “Come again?” asked Nick, his gorgeous voice politely confused.
“Woodworms!” Charlie repeated. “The flat is infested with woodworms!”
There was another pause. “Uh… not following.”
“Okay, so,” said Charlie, this whole thing feeling ridiculous when he said it out loud. “One of the reasons I picked this flat was that a bunch of the units have these beautiful exposed beams. And they had needed to replace them as part of the work they were doing, you know?”
“Yeah…”
“They replaced them, but I guess the new beams came from an area of England that had some huge woodworm population that they didn’t know about…something about the life cycle being like several years so you don’t know if wood has woodworms in it until too late? I don’t know, I just got a phone call from the owners of the building and I didn’t fully follow everything that they said…”
Charlie heard a note of something in Nick’s voice - maybe something like hope? “So… what happens now?”
“One of the people who called said that I have to take all of my furniture out again and store it, and they have to do this massive project to get all of the wood that they put in out so there’s not any spread to other units,” Charlie felt his heart speed up, bracing himself to ask Nick for this, again. “She said it would be a full month minimum and very likely more. So - god, Nick, I am so sorry… Can we just… keep doing the same thing? Like - can I come back tomorrow and stay? Then just keep going back to Elle and Tao’s the first two days of the week?”
When Nick spoke, it sounded like he had that broad, brilliant, full-face smile that made Charlie’s heart flip over itself. “Of course we can. Definitely.”
Charlie didn’t even bother to fight the smile on his face, spreading uncontrollably. “Thank you,” he said, silently extending the same thanks to the woodworms. Then Charlie felt a dig of long-entrenched doubt, needing to air his worry about imposing. “I’m sorry about the change.”
Nick’s response was immediate and emphatic. “I’m not.”
Charlie froze and his heart fluttered, almost disbelieving what he’d heard. That open admission – it felt like something Charlie had been craving his whole life. And Nick had just given it to him without making Charlie work for it at all.
“Oh?” was all Charlie could manage back, the smile filling his whole face.
“Yeah,” said Nick, pausing. “Honestly, I wasn’t quite…ready to not get to see you so often.”
Charlie felt his throat tighten. There it was again. Just openness and honesty. Nick had been open and brave. Charlie could be brave like him. “Oh, god, me too, Nick.”
“Really?” Nick sounded adorably pleased.
“Of course!” exclaimed Charlie, confused how Nick wouldn’t have already known all of this. He let the words that had been living in his brain for the last few days pour out through the phone. “I kept thinking of not getting to see you so often, and how much I didn’t like that. You’ve become…you’re one of my best friends in the world. I kept, like…worrying about if we wouldn't get to hang out anymore once I was at this new flat.”
Nick sighed, a relieved sound. “Me too. I kept thinking, like…what would be the, like, reason to see each other? I mean, you’re one of my best friends in the world too and that’s reason enough, but it’s like, a drive–”
“–And I kept thinking that you have guests and it’s hard to get away–”
“–And I figured that you’d want some weekends in the city–”
They both laughed, and it was like the three previous days had never happened.
“Well,” said Charlie, grinning like a goober. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He could hear the smile in Nick’s voice. “Yeah. You will.”
They spoke for a moment more, but all Charlie could think about was that he’d see Nick again tomorrow, and not for the last time.
Charlie was going home to Lavender Fields.
Notes:
A lovely friend of mine made me this salad the other day and it was SO GOOD. This recipe also happen to be gluten free and vegan.
1 bag of kale
½ red onion, thinly sliced
1 red pepper, seeded and cut into small, thin strips
1 orange pepper, seeded and cut into small, thin strips
2 cups grape tomatoes, sliced in half
1 cup chopped purple cabbage
½ cup green onions, chopped
1 mango, peeled and diced
Juice of 1 lemon
1 Tbsp coconut oil
1 Tbsp olive oilSpicy Tahini Dressing:
¼ cup raw tahini
1 Tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves
1/8 cup water
¼ cup maple syrup
Juice of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepperDressing: Put all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Let the dressing sit while preparing salad. You can make this 1 or 2 days in advance.
Salad: Slice the red onions. Put in a bowl with juice of 1 lemon and a pinch of salt to marinate, and place on the side for about 10 minutes until onions begin to soften.
Prepare the vegetables, then sauté the peppers in a small sauté pan over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes, until slightly soft. Peel and dice mango.
Wash and dry kale, add to a large bowl. Drizzle 1 Tbsp olive oil over kale and massage it by consistently squeezing the kale for 2-3 minutes or until the kale looks wet and wilted.
Take the red onions out of lemon juice and add to kale, reserving the liquid to drizzle on the finished salad, or use for another dressing that calls for lemon juice (this will give a dressing a little more flavor). Add vegetables and mango. Drizzle salad with spicy tahini dressing.
Chapter 46: Charlie’s POV: You
Summary:
Charlie and Nick go to a Badgers match. Everyone comes back to Lavender Fields, and James has to ask Danny something.
Notes:
Waveofyou and NellieSayzBork - do you remember the blissful magic of your principal wheeling in a TV because you had a sub that day and you just KNEW you were going to watch Bill Nye? That’s how you make me feel.
The magical wonder that is songbird3724 (plus friends!!) recorded an incredible piece of Lavender Fields chapter 20 in Excerpts from Lavender Fields. It is so amazing and delightful and is one of my favorite LF scenes 🤩🥰
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Leaving Lavender Fields was so much easier now, knowing that he was coming back. The fact that it was easier still hadn’t stopped Charlie from leaning into the long embrace with Nick before he left, but Charlie doubted that anything was going to change that from happening. Charlie felt like he could actually breathe again now that he knew he was staying for the foreseeable future.
The woman on the phone had said it would be at least a month, but all of the Googling that Charlie did made it seem like it would easily be double that time. All of the estimates that he saw were between eight and twelve weeks for woodworm mitigation, depending on what treatment was needed. That extended timeline was confirmed when Charlie got an email from Boris (with Emily CCed) that said they had to take out the huge support beams because they were too infested to leave in the flat. Boris said in the email that it did mean it would take longer than a month, a misfortune that Charlie forced himself to keep a stiff upper lip about.
All of that made it easier when Charlie left Lavender Fields before Christmas, despite the fact that he was leaving for longer than normal. There were several holiday parties he was attending, then it was off to Kent for a medium-happy Spring Christmas. The holiday parties ended up being fairly fun, which made the time away from Nick go faster.
Charlie’s group of friends had their annual Christmas gift exchange for one of those get-togethers. It was a hilariously riotous night as per their usual. Tao got tipsy after a single glass of sherry, Tara and Elle started singing songs from when they were all in Year 7, and Darcy got everyone chocolates shaped like vulvas. It was perfect. Charlie’s work holiday party wasn’t half bad, either. Charlie and Anita went to it together, dissolving into giggles when a bloke from a department they didn’t know started angrily playing the piano at his date, who looked increasingly bewildered. Charlie and Anita discussed helping, but they saw that the date had been welcomed by their table and seemed to be getting on just fine.
Charlie, Elle, and Tao did their holiday tradition, one of Charlie’s favourites. The three of them each took an edible, the only way that Tao ever agreed to watch one of Netflix’s terrible-wonderful Christmas films. This time they watched one about a journalist who was *~*quirky*~* because she wore sneakers under fancy dresses. The long-running challenge was that if Tao could limit himself to 15 angry objections or less about the plot, cinematography, or tropes in the movie they wouldn’t make him do it next year. Clearly, the annual tradition had yet to be broken.
After the movie, Tao had casually shown Charlie a few of the Lavender Fields shots he’d taken that he had edited. That was the real miracle of Christmas – that Charlie hadn’t gotten an erection when Tao let Charlie see those pictures. In the rich colour saturation, Charlie’s eyes locked on Nick’s face. Nick’s hazel eyes were on Charlie in every shot that Tao had taken. Not on the camera, not anywhere else – just on Charlie. Looking at those pictures made Charlie’s chest hurt in a way that he couldn’t fully explain. It wasn’t just from the way that Charlie ached to be with Nick, wrapped in each others’ arms and lips moving towards one another. It was no longer the pain of believe that Nick was anything other than straight and the Charlie had no chance. That might have been it, really. Nick was no longer an impossibility, but getting to be with him still felt impossible. That was the hardest part. It was that now Charlie had a tiny seed of hope, one that flickered mightily despite having no chance. There was the pain - to want something that perhaps could happen… but wouldn’t. It still gave Charlie a swoopy feeling in his stomach to see the look on Nick’s face, and the way they looked at one another. An impossible dream.
Still, Charlie and Nick talked constantly while Charlie was gone. They messaged frequently throughout the day, Nick sending him pictures of the cows, the bakes he and his mum were doing, or silly memes that played right to Charlie’s sense of humour. Charlie gave back as good as he got, debasing himself by searching pun websites and sending them to Nick. Nick quickly made Charlie’s self-sacrifice worth it when he responded in a series of hearts and starry-eyed emojis. The messages from Nick were warm, funny, affectionate – flirty? No. No, not flirty. Charlie wanted them to be flirty so he was seeing them as flirty.
God, did Charlie want those messages to be flirty.
They hadn’t exchanged gifts before Charlie left. Charlie had of course gotten something for Nick, a small pun-of-the-day calendar that he’d seen in one of the stationary shops in town. Charlie picked it up a month before Christmas, knowing Nick would love it but still feeling odd at the idea of buying something for Nick for the holidays. Then Nick had said he was getting something for Charlie (more drumsets?!?!), which made Charlie both protest in embarrassed delight and feel a little less strange about the gift he’d already picked up.
Being home was harder than being in London. Having Olly and Tori there helped a lot, of course, though Olly was particularly focused on Nick Nelson. Join the club, Charlie had mused when Olly described Nick in starry-eyed terms, asking Charlie endless questions about what he was like and what the two of them did together. Charlie caught Tori pretending not to listen and tried to make his descriptions of Nick as neutral and non completely, obsessively-in-love-focused. He still caught the shadow of a smile on her face, though it was gone every time Charlie turned to look at her fully.
Nick even messaged Charlie about Olly and Tori coming to Lavender Fields, something that had absolutely floored Charlie. Nick had mentioned trying to get Olly back up after Charlie’s mum said no months ago, but Charlie had assumed that was a polite Nick-ism, a throwaway comment that he would cling onto with naive hope. Charlie pulled Tori aside to ask if she might be able to work with him to make it happen, paving the way so it was impossible for their mum to deny Olly the trip again. Tori agreed that she could drive Olly up to Lavender Fields during the day of New Year’s Eve, a gift that the two of them “gave” to Olly on Christmas Day. Charlie caught his mother’s tight mouth, but Olly’s pure, bouncing excitement was too incredible to burst, and she had forced on a grin, nodding and permitting Charlie and Tori’s light, silent mutiny.
The best part of Christmas beyond Olly’s joy was when Nick and Sarah Facetimed Charlie. Charlie answered Nick’s call with a smile, his beam only growing when he opened the phone and saw Sarah’s face. Nick was trying to edge into the frame, but Sarah seemed to only have eyes for Charlie at the moment.
“Oh, Charlie,” she said by way of greeting, the edge of a sky-blue bordered cookbook clutched to her chest. “This is the most incredible gift I’ve ever gotten!” Nick cleared his throat loudly and both Sarah and Charlie laughed. “Besides the very most incredible gift right next to me.”
“Thank you,” said the barely-visible side of Nick’s face in a silly, prissy tone.
“It’s so wonderful,” Sarah gushed, holding up the cookbook as though Charlie hadn’t seen it. “How did you do this, you wonderful man?”
Charlie blushed, the colour deepening when Nick finally adjusted the phone so that he was in the shot too and Charlie could see Nick’s glowing face. “You did all of the hard work,” he said to Sarah truthfully. “I just took the amazing recipes you already had.”
“No,” replied Sarah, shaking her head. “You made something truly beautiful. You took something that existed and you made it so much more than what it started as. How many hours did you put into this?”
“It didn’t take too long–” began Charlie at the same time as Nick interjected, “He did so much on it, mum!” They both paused and grinned at each other, and then Charlie blushed and looked down. “My colleague Anita helped a lot,” Charlie said, wanting to give her credit. “She did all of the proofing and actual page production; I was just the middleman.”
“Don’t you talk about my friend–” Sarah began with an upraised finger.
“—About your friend Charlie like that?” Charlie guessed, all three of them laughing.
Sarah sent a fond look at her son. “I may have borrowed that from the Badgers.”
Nick smiled back at her and shook his head. “You message with Danny too much.”
Wait, Sarah Nelson and Danny Turner messaged each other?! Charlie would pay thousands to see those messages. “It was nothing, Sarah, really. But I’m so glad you like it, and I think there’s a good chance this would sell if that was something you were interested in.”
Sarah shook her head firmly. “This was one of the most thoughtful things that someone has ever done for me, and I cannot thank you enough. You’re…” She trailed off, smiling at Charlie again. “You are a wonder, Charlie. It was a lucky day for Lavender Fields and the Nelsons when you decided to show up.”
Charlie laughed, though his throat was tight with emotion as his eyes flickered to Nick’s face, then back to Sarah’s. “I think it might be the other way around.”
Sarah gave him a fond, loving look through some tears, and Charlie tried to say something else but found himself choked up. Then Nick let out a strangled squeaking sound in his own effort not to tear up and they all laughed, the conversation shifting to Christmas pudding and what each of them were having. Charlie was desperately jealous after Sarah described the molten chocolate cakes that she and Nick were going to make, promising that she’d leave some frozen for Charlie that he and Nick could bake when she was gone.
The days passed a little more quickly after Boxing day with the extended Spring family, as both Charlie’s parents had needed to go back to work on the 27th. That meant it was just Charlie, Tori, and Olly, and the three of them lapsed back into their younger habits, playing Mario Kart and slapping the controllers out of each other’s hands. Olly tortured his older siblings by rattling off endless Badger facts, still brimming with excitement that he was going to meet some of his favourite players. Nick had wanted Olly to come for the match, too, but it hadn’t worked with Tori’s schedule and both she and Charlie knew better than to ask their mum. The sheer amount of information spilling out of Olly was both overwhelming and informative. No, Charlie hadn’t known that Lunker played the oboe, but he certainly did now.
As Olly continued on, reciting the positions of all of the starting players, Charlie smiled. His little brother’s face was glowing, absolutely beaming at the idea that he was going to get to meet the team. That was something that Nick had chosen to do – and he had done it for no reason other than to make someone else happy. To make Olly happy, and Charlie too. Light, dark. Nick Nelson was nothing but pure, beaming light, peering into every corner of Charlie’s life and eclipsing Ben’s darkness.
-
Charlie knew he was driving a bit too fast to get to Lavender Fields, but he couldn’t help it. A week was far too long to be away from Nick, and he could feel himself leaning forward in his seat, willing the miles to pass more quickly. The ride dragged by, and Charlie sighed with relief and happiness as he finally pulled into the car park, the door to the inn flashing open and closed as soon as Charlie swung his car off the road.
Charlie scrambled out of the car, his stomach feeling pleasantly jittery that Nick met him as soon as he opened the door. Charlie left his bag and instead went straight for Nick, the two of them meeting in an embrace that felt like coming home.
“Hi,” said Nick, his cheek resting on Charlie’s head in what nearly dissolved Charlie’s organs. Charlie inhaled deeply. He could have stayed buried in Nick’s soft, sweatered chest all day. “Happy Christmas.”
Charlie grinned and reluctantly pulled back, making a show of looking at his naked wrist. “You already said that…four days ago.”
“Yeah, but not in person,” Nick said cheekily, squeezing Charlie’s arm and making his heart twitch at the same time. Charlie laughed and moved to get his bag, but Nick breezed past him and swung the bag onto his shoulder. “Have you studied up on all things Badgers?”
“Against my will, yes,” groaned Charlie, trailing Nick into the house. “Olly is so, so excited. He’s been showing me Badgers match clips nonstop,” Charlie continued, complaining jocularly. “I kept hoping that I’d get the gift of some goddamn peace and quiet for Christmas.”
Nick laughed, then cut himself off and dropped Charlie’s bag with a thump, his eyes wide. Good thing I didn’t get Nick a glass picture frame, Charlie thought in wry amusement. “Oh! That reminds me!” exclaimed Nick. “Your present!”
Charlie laughed. “I told you didn’t need to get me anything.” He had. He’d insisted on that, actually, despite the red-hot knowledge that Charlie had already bought something for Nick that burned in his stomach.
“Yes,” Nick said, looking at Charlie with mock indulgence. “And I told you I was going to ignore you.” Nick took Charlie by the hand and pulled him towards the landing at the bottom of the stairs, Charlie stumbling a little as his eyes were entirely focused on the image of their hands locked together as he followed Nick. They were – holding hands?! The friends way and not the lovers way but still – it was spine-melting. Nick stopped and then dropped Charlie’s hand with a little start, as if he hadn’t realised he was holding it.
Charlie took a minute to get out of the “Error 404” spiral from the unexpected, delicious feel of his hand in Nick’s. Then he realised that Nick had him in front of the portrait wall. He looked around, bewildered, until his eyes landed on – oh my GOD. There, in sepia tones, he saw himself looking stern-faced behind glass, bordered on either side by poltergeists and homicidal little girl ghosts.
“You turned me into a fucking portrait person?!” Charlie recalled the picture, a candid that Nick had taken that caught Charlie in an odd expression. He hadn’t actually been irritated, but the camera had picked up that split-second view of his face and now ghost-Charlie was staring out, looking particularly murdery.
Nick laughed out loud, his smile huge. “You’re one of them now, Char!”
Char? Charlie turned to look at Nick, his stomach squirming in a tickly way, heart speeding up. “Char?”
Nick turned to look at him, looking puzzled. “What?”
Charlie couldn’t stop the smile from blossoming across his face. It was so fucking cute that it made him want to curl up in a ball under a blanket and just grin about it for a solid eight months. “You called me… Char?”
Nick’s mouth dropped open and Charlie saw a flush of red creeping up his neck, making Nick’s cheeks look rosy. “Oh, wow,” he said, touching the back of his neck. “I guess that just… slipped out?”
Charlie rolled his lips in, trying to suppress the smile. There was no chance, though, and he let it burst out. Char. It was so cute and precious and un-professional-rugby-player-ish and ugh Nick was so adorable. “Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing for you,” Charlie said, deflecting his own internal warmth by rinsing Nick.
Nick groaned in embarrassment, though he tried to play it off, looking at Charlie after uncovering his face. “Well, now I’m never saying it again,” he said in a lofty tone, raising his chin and giving Charlie a grin that made Charlie want to swoon against the wall like a Victorian woman of yore.
Charlie hoped that wasn’t true. He wanted to hear Nick call him that name for the rest of his life.
-
That night, it was just the two of them. There were no guests, and no one else was going to be there until the following evening. Charlie loved those nights where it was just him and Nick, revelling in their time together. They’d been talking for hours and discussing New Year’s Eve plans when Charlie realised just how soon it was literally only two nights away. Darcy and Tara had asked what Charlie, Elle, and Tao were doing for New Year’s and Tao told them they’d be at Lavender Fields. Darcy howled that they’d spent all of their New Year’s Eves together, and asked Charlie if there was room for two more. Charlie said he’d ask, and had been planning to, but every time he thought about it, he felt anxious. Charlie had asked Nick for a lot already with his friends joining, and now was asking for two more. Tara and Darcy did have the camper van, but still…
Charlie sighed and pushed himself up on the sofa, as much as he hated to interrupt the giggling stories he and Nick were exchanging about New Year’s Eves in their past. “Hey,” Charlie said, his heart thrumming a little faster. “Is it still all right if Tao and Elle come for New Year’s?” The look of fond exasperation on Nick’s face was so telling that Charlie laughed out loud. “Okay, okay, okay,” he said quickly, marinating in Nick’s smile. He swallowed, gathering up his courage. “But there’s also – I have these two friends, Tara and Darcy. They have their own place – or, like, they have a camper van? So they have a place to sleep. We’ve all spent New Year’s together most years and they asked what we were all doing and Tao told them and so I thought I’d ask but it’s totally fine if not and–”
“Charlie,” Nick interrupted, laying a hand on Charlie’s arm and giving it a pulse. Charlie felt his stomach quivering pleasantly again. He loved the feeling of Nick’s hands on his body more than he thought possible. “I’d love for them to come. Truly, the more, the better. Please invite them.”
“Are you sure?” Charlie persisted, feeling the need to check again. “Like actually, really su–”
“Ask me again,” said Nick, crossing his arms now and looking at Charlie with a challenging grin. “I dare you.”
Charlie stared for a beat too long. The way Nick’s mouth formed that sound, wrapping around the word “dare”... well. Charlie would have lost any dare that challenged him to not develop any more wank fantasy fuel for that night.
The rest of the evening was comfortable and fun, just like it always was with Nick. Charlie made the mistake of asking Nick one last time about his friends coming, causing Nick to chase Charlie down the hall bearing the pun-a-day calendar like a crucifix, bellowing, “May your apologies begone!”
Their drive to the stadium was much the same – easy, fun, silly. There were no silences that prickled, no need for Charlie to tiptoe to make sure that Nick was happy since he was the one driving. Nick never dropped asides about the effort he was putting in because he was the driver and sighing exasperatedly when Charlie didn’t change the music fast enough. It was just - nice. Charlie sang along with Nick to a ridiculous 90s and 2000s playlist, filled with girlpop. So much girlpop. Charlie hadn’t actually realised how much girlpop there was in the world.
As they got closer to the stadium, Charlie saw ridiculous prices at the nearby car parks as they threaded through the traffic.
“Where do we park?” Charlie wondered aloud, curious why Nick wasn’t turning into any of the lots.
“We’ll – we can park at the stadium,” Nick replied, waving off Charlie’s worry. They pulled up to a security booth at the stadium and the guard greeted Nick warmly, shaking his hand and opening the gate with no further questions.
Charlie’s eyebrows quirked as they pulled into a spot marked RESERVED, glancing at Nick quizzically.
“Perks of playing,” said Nick with a small shrug.
Charlie smiled at Nick, loving this moment of seeing Nick’s world. “Perks of being Nicholas Nelson, rugby king.”
Nick blushed. “I wasn’t… I — let’s head in, yeah?”
Charlie followed Nick into the stadium, looking around at everything Nick was pointing out until they got to what looked to be an office. A woman stood up to greet them, smiling and giving Nick a hug. Charlie felt cheered just seeing her - she was clearly that type of person who just made others feel happy and comfortable.
“Charlie, this is Erin,” Nick said, introducing them. “She’s set us up with the tickets today.”
“Thank you so much,” Charlie said, shaking her hand. “This is really kind of you.”
Erin waved that away. “It’s nothing,” she said, smiling and walking Nick and Charlie to the hallway. “Anything for Nick!” She raised an eyebrow at Nick, grinning. “The media will be happy to see you; there’s loads of them that’ll be looking for a word about next season.”
Nick groaned good-naturedly and thanked Erin again, then pointed out a few spots to Charlie as they made their way to the actual stadium itself. Nick used a badge to open a door (called it his “badge-r”, of course), and Charlie was stunned by the amount of people milling about in a hallway, cameras in hand.
“Nick!”
“Nick Nelson!”
“Good to see you, Nick!”
“Oi, looking forward to next season?”
“Nick, do you have a moment to chat?”
There was a crush of people, a combination of reporters and rich benefactors, from what Charlie guessed. It was astonishing how many of them were focused on Nick. He was, like – a proper celebrity. Charlie had known that, he supposed, but he hadn’t known known. Nick was predictably and endlessly kind, smiling and making eye contact with everyone as they called out and at him. Nick stopped occasionally to shake someone’s hand or take a moment for an introduction. Despite all of the attention on him, Nick still paid attention to Charlie as they made their way through the room, guiding him gently through the crowd and keeping them moving, nodding and laughing while continuing on. Charlie looked at him in silent, suppressed awe. Nick was, like, famous. And somehow, Charlie was at a rugby match with him.
They finally made it out of the throng of people and Charlie sighed, not realising in the moment how overwhelming it had been to be surrounded by that many people. Nick seemed unaffected and used to it, though, resuming the running commentary about rugby rules that he’d started in the car as they made their way to their seats. “So, remember that that one’s the try line, yeah? And then of course you know the halfway line, but then there’s also the for– oof!” Nick doubled over and Charlie looked down to see a tiny head of hair that had ploughed directly into Nick’s midsection as they got to their seats.
“Uncle Nick!” called the happy voice, muffled in Nick’s coat.
Nick picked up the little girl that had hugged him, wheezing a little from the impact still. “Clara!” he said, swinging her up and making her giggle. God, this was just fucking unfair. Nick was already fit and kind and funny and now he was good with kids, too?! This was some fucking bullshit. Nick seemed to feel Charlie’s gaze and swung the little girl around to face him. “Charlie, this is the finest rugby player you’ll see today, Clara Wilcox.”
“Hi,” Clara said cheerfully, grinning and sticking out a tiny hand out to Charlie. He laughed and extended his back, giving her a shake. “Uncle Nick used to live at my house. How do you know him?”
Nick set Clara down and Charlie instinctively glanced at him. “I sort of live at his house now!”
“Oh,” said Clara, her face lighting up. “Are you boyfriends like Uncle Danny and Uncle James?”
Charlie felt his heart stop, quivering in his chest like it was as shocked as he was. Charlie knew he was beet red and turned to watch something very fascinating happening on the pitch, the credibility of which was slightly at question due to the fact that no one was actually on it yet. He hummed something nonsensical and tried desperately to pretend that he hadn’t heard what Clara said while listening as hard as he could to see how Nick reacted, which seemed to be… coughing? Charlie wondered if it was possible to self-immolate, and tried very hard to do so.
“No, Clara.” Thankfully, an amused voice cut through, saving Charlie’s withering heart sultana. Charlie looked over to see who he knew was the former Badgers captain Wilco, and something clicked into place. Wilco - Clara Wilcox - that’s right. This must be Clara’s dad and Nick’s old captain. He seemed like a great person from what Charlie had heard. Charlie had heard the tone in Nick’s voice when he spoke of Wilco; he seemed like more of a father to Nick than Nick’s own father had ever been. Charlie instantly liked him, even though his progeny might have taken a few years off his life. “Nicholas Nelson!” Wilco seized Nick in a hug while Clara’s mouth twisted up on the side and she put her hands on her hips, looking between Charlie and Nick.
“Oh,” she said, looking disappointed. You and me both, Clara, Charlie thought, his temperature slowly returning back to normal.
Wilco laughed and extended his hand. “Hello, Charlie.” He shook hands with Charlie. “Trevor Wilcox, though everyone calls me Wilco.” He jerked his head towards Nick, grinning. “I was the captain for this one for most of his years on the Badgers.”
“Nice to meet you,” Charlie managed to get out, recovering now. “Nick’s said a lot about you.”
“All lies,” said Wilco, making them chuckle. He introduced Charlie to his wife Annette, and Annette pointed out their two other children, Jacques and Amelia. Their whole family was gorgeous, and Annette spoke with a throaty French accent. It made Charlie think about when Nick said something in French back at the inn. That was not a safe line of thought to have around other people, and Charlie willed himself to focus on the present. Wilco said that Danny and James had spoken highly of Charlie, which was unreasonably kind of them and a delightful surprise.
Charlie chatted with Annette and Trevor for a moment before Regan arrived, along with a woman that Charlie thought he recognised from his Badgers internet researching. She introduced herself as Harriet Walker and it clicked – this was James’s sister. Like James, she had serious eyes that belied a sparkling personality, and Charlie instantly liked her. It was wonderful to see Regan, too, and get to know her a little better. Charlie hadn’t gotten to spend much solo time with her when the Badgers were at Lavender Fields, and he hadn’t realised that she was bisexual until this conversation.
“Yeah,” said Regan as they chatted about queer identities. “Sometimes it feels like it can get a bit lost in a hetero presenting relationship, you know?”
Charlie nodded and kept chatting with her, though his mind had drifted as it often did to Nick. Nick had been in relationships with women. Had Nick ever wondered about men? Had Nick ever been attracted to men – or maybe not realised that the feelings he had were attraction? Charlie stewed on that for a few moments before the conversation shifted, Regan asking Harriet if she had gotten the chance to visit Danny and James much this year.
“A decent amount,” said Harriet, smiling before it dropped and her eyebrows knitted together. “But I never stay with them.” She shuddered. “You only make that mistake once.”
Charlie laughed. “I cannot imagine what it is like having Danny as a boyfriend-in-law.”
Harriet chuckled too, Regan joining in. “It’s exhausting and wonderful,” she agreed. “But he loves James so much, so I can’t hold his terrible puns or propensity for shenanigans against him.” Charlie caught a look in her eyes, some sort of glowing fondness that made him feel inexplicably happy. He knew how it was to have a close relationship with a sibling, especially in a family with tricky dynamics. Charlie didn’t know much of James’s family, but it was clear how close he and Harriet were.
Harriet explained a few things to Charlie about the match as the players came out, wild cheers rising up from the crowd as they all surged onto the pitch. Danny blew Charlie a kiss over his gum guard and Charlie laughed aloud. He tried to focus hard on the players warming up, nodding and mm-hmming along with Harriet’s patient and helpful explanations. It was a lot easier than watching Nick with Clara, which probably violated the Geneva Convention. It was terroristically cute, and Charlie couldn’t watch it for too long in fear of his blood sugar spiking.
Charlie wanted to give Nick space to talk to his friends, but Nick just kept… talking to Charlie. He’d point out a player and tell a funny story about them, or gesture at someone and describe what they were going to do on the pitch during the match. They were still talking, shoulders bumping one another and making Charlie feel warm despite the chill, when Amy caught their eyes. Her face lit up and she started blowing endless kisses towards Charlie, looking utterly affronted when Nick tried to catch one.
The match was exciting – far more so than Charlie had expected, and he was gripped by the action on the pitch. Of course, there was nothing wrong with watching giant muscular men rolling around on the ground together, but beyond that, it was actually interesting. Harriet and Nick both nudged Charlie and pointed things out, Charlie needing to lean a little close to Nick to hear him over the roar of the crowd. His stomach danced when Nick would speak into his ear, angling his head towards Charlie’s. The whole match was enjoyable, but Charlie really loved watching Danny and James celebrating after scoring a… goal? They hugged one another and exchanged a quick, tiny look that probably meant nothing to anyone who’d not experienced a relationship that had been hidden.
The Badgers ended up winning, and Charlie also won when Nick wrapped him up in a hug, nearly lifting Charlie off his feet. It was laddish, yes, but it was also – in public. Charlie could feel his ears burning after Nick set him down and celebrated with the other people around him. He was unreasonably pleased. Nick had hugged him. In public. That wasn’t something Charlie had expected, though he probably should have.
“We won!” exclaimed Charlie, delighted with both the match and how open Nick was about everything. It was still startling, every time.
“We did,” Nick said happily, giving Charlie another squeeze and hugging him to his side. “Shall we go meet the lads?”
Charlie blinked, confused. Meet the lads? That was the plan, right? Everyone was coming back to Lavender Fields? “Like…after the match? When everyone comes back with us?”
“Nah, we’re headed to the changing room, come on then.”
Charlie’s eyes widened and he froze for a we moment before trotting off after Nick. They were going to the changing room? Charlie hadn’t been in a changing room since… god, since secondary? He’d met a few of the Badgers, yes, but this was going to be a whole ROOM of rowdy, laddish blokes. Would they be annoyed that Charlie was there? Or even just confused why Nick would bring his friend to meet them?
Charlie’s heart sped up as they got to the changing room, Nick banging the door open. There was a wall of scent and sound when they walked in, the smell hitting Charlie first. It was one of sweat and grass and soap and cologne all mixed together, and Charlie felt like he was right back in phys ed class. Then the cacophony of the room started sorting into sensible words, Charlie picking up a few snippets.
“Oi oi, it’s captain Nicky!”
“Nick, mate, brilliant to see you!”
“Springtime is here! Boys, you need to meet Charlie, he’s a legend!”
“CHARLIE FUCKING SPRING!” That last one was clearly Danny, who charged towards Charlie and then scooped him up, throwing him over his shoulder. “It’s our good luck Charlie charm! Good luck Charlie-arm!”
Danny eventually put Charlie down, dragging him over from player to player and introducing him to everyone. He slightly exaggerated Charlie’s accomplishments and resume, proclaiming that Charlie ran a major publishing firm, that he had written a best-selling cookbook, and that he was actually Banksy. The players all seemed to take Danny in stride, and everyone was kind, engaging, and funny. Charlie was mildly disoriented from all of the attention and the situation, but it was a little bit easier once Nick fought his way over to Charlie, grinning and chatting with him and the lads.
After a few moments, Amy burst in and made a beeline for Charlie, seizing him in the tight hug of a Canadian anaconda. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!” she boomed, releasing Charlie and his probably-fractured ribs.
Despite the fact that Charlie probably had way more than 206 bones now, he grinned and went in for another hug. He really had missed her. “I missed you, too!”
Charlie heard a little scoff and turned around to see Nick holding out his arms expectantly and mock-scowling at Amy. “Ahem?”
“Oh, Nick,” Amy said dismissively. “Nice of you to come.”
“Oi!”
All three of them laughed and Amy rushed forward, seizing Nick in a massive embrace. They all stayed in the changing room for over an hour, Charlie quickly getting accustomed to the frank and casual nudity as lads strolled to and from the showers and got changed. Beers were passed around and Charlie took one, having more fun than he would have thought. He was still a bit nervous and shy, though Charlie was very aware that Nick might want space to get to be with his friends. Nick was never far away, though, and Charlie was surprised to feel how at ease he was. The lads were great, and Charlie had a series of interesting conversations with people he might not have met in any other situation. Everyone was loud, rowdy, and fun, but it wasn’t directed at anyone. Charlie didn’t know if he’d been around a group of blokes like this before.
There was a massive cheer when Seamus arrived, and more beers were passed out to anyone not driving. They stayed a bit longer before James started the (long) process of herding Danny towards a car, the rest of them straggling after. Amy came back in the car with Nick and Charlie, and she was tremendous at rapping. She had Charlie put on I’m on a Boat, a song that Charlie had never heard before but instantly loved. The trip flew by, and Charlie was in tears laughing several times. God, he had such a good time with Nick, and Amy just added another layer of fun.
Back at the house, everyone settled in, chatting and happy. Charlie knew that it would have still been a good time if the team had lost, but it was great that they had won. Everyone was happy and cheerful, the couples being affectionate with each other. Danny and James, of course, and Regan and Tex. Amy and Seamus were not being affectionate, but that did little to dispel Charlie’s suspicions. He felt quite sure that they were “actively engaging in penetrative intercourse,” to borrow a phrase of Amy’s. He felt even more sure that Nick had absolutely none of the same suspicions, which was almost as adorable as it had been to see Nick with Clara.
Charlie found himself standing next to Nick, his favourite place to be. Seamus was walking around the house after they’d all settled in, sniffing the air. He turned to Nick, and Charlie suppressed a laugh at the childlike hopefulness. “Did you make something sweet for us?”
“Of course I did,” Nick confirmed, and he and Charlie exchanged a quick, private grin. Nick had made a beautiful meringue the day before, both of them cheering and hugging each other when it had come out without a single crack. (Granted, Charlie had nearly cracked when Nick made endless baking puns, claiming ‘it was no yolk’ to make a meringue.)
Tex cheered. “Hell yeah! What’d ya make?”
“A meringue.” Charlie had to look at Nick again, smiling at how proud Nick looked. Charlie loved the way that Nick was open about the things he cared about. Ben had often acted as though things were no big deal, even when Charlie knew they were to him. Nick was just so… Charlie didn’t know the right word for it. Vulnerable felt too raw and open, but Charlie could see it. Nick cared and cared openly. Charlie loved that. It was among one of the things he loved most about Nick. Charlie blinked when Danny cupped his hands around his mouth and booed loudly.
They all turned and looked at him, Nick laughing and looking puzzled. “What the fuck’s wrong with that, Danny?”
“Oh, sorry mate, old habit,” said Danny cheerfully. “In Aus we boo meringue.”
There was a silent moment where everyone repeated it in their own heads, then there was a shout of laughter that started with Tex and spread out to everyone. Charlie threw his head back and giggled, gripping Nick’s arm as he did. He could feel Nick’s eyes on him, and the two of them looked at each other yet again, sharing another smile. Charlie’s stomach rocketed up, tightening in a silly, hopeful knot before he breathed slowly, dragging his smile away from Nick.
“Where should we put our stuff, Nick?” asked Regan once everyone had calmed a bit, taking her bag over her shoulder.
“Oh, yeah,” said Nick. “Let me think…” He paused as though he was calculating, then turned and pointed to Danny and James. “You two are downstairs in Room 5, you animals.” Charlie giggled again when James held up his hand and Danny high-fived it, a massive grin on his face. “Charlie is in Room 3 where he’s been staying. Amy, are you and Harriet okay with sharing Room 2?” Amy and Regan nodded and Charlie pressed his lips together. Sure, Jan. Amy was definitely sharing a room with Regan, not anyone else, particularly any Irish rugby lads. “Tex and Regan, you take Room 4. And then Seamus, you can go to Room 1.”
“Great,” said Seamus in a remarkably casual tone. Charlie had to press his lips together to stop himself from snorting out a laugh.
“Aren’t Charlie’s friends coming tomorrow night too, though?” asked Amy, snapping Charlie out of his amusement. He realised with horror that she was right - all of the rooms were taken and Tao and Elle were still coming. How had Charlie not thought of that earlier?
“Shit!” exclaimed Charlie, guilt and anxiety writhing hotly in his stomach. “Yes. I’m sorry; that’s all the rooms, right? They can just share with me, though.” Charlie remembered the night that Ben arrived, recalling that Nick had set up a folding bed in the lavender shed. “Nick, can I borrow the camp bed and I’ll stay in that and they can take–”
“No,” said Nick firmly, already shaking his head. He turned to Charlie. “Okay, well, I think Tara and Darcy are taken care of, right, Charlie?” Charlie nodded, still feeling anxious. “That’s easy, then. Elle and Tao can take my room.”
Charlie opened his mouth to protest but Danny spoke first, addressing Nick. “And where will you sleep, my fragile orchid?”
“I can stay on one of the couches,” said Nick with a casual shrug. “It’s only for a couple of nights.”
“No. Nope,” said Charlie firmly and immediately. The most magical man in the world was not going to compress his lumbar spine for Charlie, not after all he’d done. “I am not letting you sleep on a couch. Not when I’ve been staying here for literal months displacing guests.”
Nick tilted his head at Charlie, fixing him with the same soft, affectionately exasperated look as when Charlie had asked again if Elle and Tao could come. “Well I’m not letting any Lavender Fields guests not have a bed…” Nick began, but he trailed off, maybe because he saw Charlie was already shaking his head again.
“Absolutely not,” said Charlie, crossing his arms. He was not giving in on this one. Charlie would sleep in his car before displacing Nick out of his bed. “I will sleep on the floor before you sleep on a couch.” He looked sternly at Nick, who looked like he was gearing up for a politeness-off. Little did Nick know the limits of how far Charlie would go to ensure that Nick did not sleep on a sofa.
Nick scoffed. “Charlie, you are not going to–”
“Which one of the rooms is the one that has the two twins joined together as a king?”
Charlie turned his head slowly to look at Amy, who had her hands on her hips, looking impatient. Nick looked at her too, his face dawning in comprehension. “Oh, yeah!” he said, nodding. Then his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed slightly as he looked at Amy. “Actually, that’s the bed… That’s the bed in Charlie’s room.”
Charlie’s heart seemed to bounce off of some internal trampoline and jumped right into his throat. Bed? Nick? Same bedroom? Charlie? Nick? Bedroom? BEDNICKCHARLIE?
“Great!” Amy beamed. “Just split apart the beds and set it up as two twins. Then you and Charlie each take one and Elle and Tao can take your room. Easy!”
Charlie tried to say something but his throat was entirely dry. Nick. In his bedroom. Next to him. That had happened many, many times in Charlie’s fantasies, but this would be… oh, fuck. Nick and Charlie in the same bedroom? Charlie hated the idea of that. He loved the idea that. He hated how much he loved the idea of that.
Nick had a rising blush in his neck, gesturing at Seamus. “Well, couldn’t Seamus and I each take a twin and Charlie can take the room Seamus is in?” Charlie’s eyes darted towards Nick. Did he not want to share a bedroom with Charlie? Everything was happening too fast. Did Charlie want to share a room with Nick? Yes. Yes he did. No. God. Yes.
Amy dismissed that immediately. “And have Charlie move all of his stuff? That’s annoying. And you know Seamus snores from when you lived with him; you complained about it all the time. That fucker sleeps alone.”
Seamus looked at Nick with a malicious smile and Nick laughed, a short burst that Charlie tried to join in on. Bed, Nick, Charlie. Charlie and Nick in the same bedroom. Nick in Charlie’s bedroom. CHARLIE BEDROOM WITH NICK?!
Amy rolled her eyes and turned to Charlie. “Charlie, are you okay with that?” Charlie nodded mutely. Yes, I am all right sharing a bedroom with Nick Nelson, the human embodiment of my nightly fantasies. This is fine. Everything is fine. “Great!” Amy said cheerfully. “All right, everyone, drop your shit in your rooms and meet back down here in fifteen.” She beamed beatifically at Charlie before heading upstairs. Charlie hated her. He loved her so much.
Charlie paused before he went upstairs, looking at Nick’s face. Nick was still looking up at the stairs that Amy had just disappeared up. Charlie felt a twist of uncertainty in his stomach. He was okay with sharing a room with Nick tomorrow night, truly. He just hoped Nick was okay sharing one with him. He searched what he could see of Nick’s face, trying to parse if Nick was upset. He didn’t look it, though, he looked… well, Charlie didn’t know. He really didn’t. Nick turned and Charlie blushed, mortified to be caught staring. He gave Nick an apologetic smile and then went upstairs.
Charlie laid on the bed for a moment, breathing in the familiar scents and taking in the features of the room. The room where he’d slept for months, and the room that he’d be sharing with Nick the next night. Charlie was going to be sharing a room with the man who he was inescapably falling in love with. That was no big deal. Just super casual, not a big deal at all.
Charlie groaned and pulled a pillow to his chest, hugging it tight. He was going to die.
-
They all met back downstairs a bit later, Charlie looking carefully at Nick to see if he looked upset or regretful as they all headed into the parlour with drinks and dessert. Nick didn’t, but Charlie wasn’t sure if Nick would show it if he was. Charlie settled onto one of the sofas, Nick having said he’d get him a drink. No one else had sat next to Charlie yet, and he was wondering desperately if Nick was going to sit there. Maybe that would be his answer, Charlie thought. If Nick sat next to him, he wasn’t upset. If Nick avoided him, maybe he was.
James walked over to the piano and tapped a few keys, nodding appreciatively at Nick as he made his way back into the room with a drink for himself and for Charlie. “Are you gonna play something?” Tex asked James.
“I’ll save most of it for tomorrow, when everyone is here.” James gave Charlie a warm grin, and Charlie felt so included. “But I’ll play one tonight, I think.”
Danny had sprawled out on the sofa, insisting he was in the draw me like one of your French girls poses. “What are you going to play, my little Jim Jam Slam?”
Amy snorted. “That’s a new one.”
James settled behind the piano. “Tim Tam Slam,” he said, Charlie looking around still confused as the others nodded.
Nick sat next to Charlie without hesitation and handed Charlie a drink. Their pinkies grazed as Nick handed Charlie the glass, and Charlie felt his stomach swoop. “It’s this Aussie biscuit thing where you - nevermind,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “You have to experience it. I’ll order some and show you next week.”
Charlie smiled, his body unclenching. Nick seemed okay. He didn’t seem upset about sharing with Charlie. He was even making plans for next week, when that would be behind them. Nick wasn’t upset. “Sounds good.”
James played a few chords as if warming up, then looked at Danny. “I’m playing something for you, Dandylion.”
Charlie’s heart squeezed at the intimate, casual affection in front of a group of friends. He loved how welcoming this group was. Charlie looked at Danny, whose eyebrows were quirked as if surprised. He arched his back to emphasise his bum and grinned. “God, I hope it’s sexual and makes everyone uncomfortable.”
Charlie laughed and he could feel Nick’s shoulder bumping his as he laughed, too. Nick glanced over and their eyes met, and Charlie felt his heart speed up for no discernible reason. James started to play and Charlie was surprised when Harriet started singing, looking first at Nick and then back at Harriet, feeling a little awkward. What – what was going on? Nick seemed confused, too, his eyebrows drawn together as Harriet started to sing.
I was broken and bent out of shape
Everything was a dark shade of grey
There never was a sunnier day
Than when you decided to get on that plane
Touch down in the Manchester rain
And I had no clue, it was gonna be you
Charlie looked at James, who was playing the piano with his eyes on Danny. Charlie swivelled his eyes over to look at Danny next. He was utterly struck by the look on Danny’s face, one of pure love and wonder. Charlie looked briefly at Nick - what was happening? Nick shook his head minutely, as if saying he had no idea. Charlie felt his breath catch in his throat. Not only was Harriet’s voice gorgeous, Charlie was taken by the words of the song. Everything dark and cold and grey until it was thrust into brightness. Dark, light. Charlie didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that the song was going right into his chest, pulsating there like a glowing orb.
Harriet started the next verse and Charlie’s heart squeezed inside his chest. He let the words wash over him, his breath light and slightly shaky.
Then one night we got high on your bed
I had the munchies and your eyes were red
In the grocery store shopping for bread
You looked me dead in my eyes and you said
"Let's have a sword fight with these French baguettes"
And that's when I knew
It was gonna be you
Danny laughed, though it sounded like there was a sob mixed in, too. The rest of the room was laughing and sniffling. Granted, Charlie didn’t know James or Danny that well, but the lyrics seemed so perfectly Danny that Charlie wondered if James had written the song just for him. He shifted a little on the sofa, aware that his upper arm and Nick’s were pressed together. Charlie tried hard to not lean into Nick, but it was difficult. The music was poignant and stirring and made Charlie want to press himself into Nick’s body and have them hold one another close, their chests pressing against each other’s.
You came wandering into my life without warning
We stayed up talking, before I knew, it was morning
Charlie suppressed a gap at that line, the words searing into his chest. It – it had been just like that with Nick. Charlie had been broken and bent out of shape when he arrived at Lavender Fields. It had been like his life was a series of cloudy days, Charlie always waiting for the sun to peer out. It did, but it was fleeting, only brief moments of joy between the grey. Then Charlie had arrived at Lavender Fields, and he finally felt what it was like to be bathed in sunlight. Without warning, Charlie had met Nick, and finally understood what it could feel like to truly connect with someone he was interested in. He felt his throat tighten, thinking about the man next to him. God, Charlie cared about him so much. Nick was a golden, glowing dream, and even if Charlie never got to be with him, at least he got to be around Nick.
Nick let out a small gasp and Charlie glanced over at him. Nick looked back, his eyes filled with emotion. Their eyes locked and Charlie felt the prickle of unexpected tears fill his eyes. He was so, so grateful Nick was in the world, and so grateful that Nick was in his world. Nick’s hand settled into the space between them where Charlie’s was too, the backs of their hands brushing against one another’s. Charlie’s stomach swung up in a tickly knot, the feeling of their hands whispering past each other making the tears well faster. He blinked them away, but made the mistake of looking at Danny. Danny was looking at James with a look of heartbreaking love, sobbing as James played and Harriet sang.
At a house party just down the street
My band was playing and you came to see
Oh, we both had way too much to drink
We made out all night on some strange balcony
I swear I never wanted to leave
And neither did you
Oh, neither did you
Charlie could feel his body trembling a little, so overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment. It reminded him a bit of when Elle had proposed to Tao, working with a local theatre to air a recorded proposal that she, Tara, Darcy, and Charlie had all contributed towards making. He recalled watching Tao’s eyes fill with emotion as the reel played, all of them laugh-crying with joy and feeling as it happened. Despite knowing Danny and James for a lot less time, Charlie had that same feeling in his body, where he knew that love was real and the depth that some people had for each other. Charlie and Ben had never had that ever. Charlie craved that love more than he could describe, and he craved it with Nick. Only Nick.
It was perfect, as if god himself wrote it
I'd be fine dying, if my life were only this moment
Harriet’s voice and the piano both swelled, and Charlie felt the hitch of a sob in his chest. He was on a sofa next to the best man he’d ever met, warm and comfortable and safe. Charlie never imagined he could feel so welcomed, appreciated, and accepted. Even if nothing else in his life ever topped this moment, at least he had this — this perfect, quivering moment filled with love.
Charlie raised his hand to brush away tears from his eyes, feeling Nick doing the same thing. Their hands both returned to the sofa at the same time as James played, the music swirling and thick like snowflakes around them. Charlie froze when Nick moved his hand, slowly – agonisingly slowly. Nick drew his hand over Charlie’s, his fingers tracing against Charlie’s knuckles and sending Charlie’s stomach into a dizzying spiral. Nick kept moving – his hand was… oh my god, his hand was now facing Charlie’s. Was Charlie imagining that Nick’s hand twitched minutely towards his? Did it? What – did Nick… his hand. Nick’s hand was poised by Charlie’s and – what happened now? What could happen now? What if Charlie… Nick wasn’t moving now. Did Charlie…
Charlie tentatively brushed his thumb in the space between Nick’s thumb and fingers, terrified he was reading this incorrectly. Nick looked at him with expressive eyes, eyes that looked like he might burst into tears at any moment. Charlie stared back at him, begging with his eyes to know what was happening and what Nick was thinking. There was a long, pregnant moment and then Nick took Charlie’s hand. He… he took Charlie’s hand, lacing their fingers together in the most beautiful, gentle thing Charlie had ever felt. Their fingers – their hands – they were together, hands pressed together. Charlie felt a sob trying to rip out of him and he instinctively nestled his hand closer, a few tears slipping out when he felt Nick sigh and settle in next to him.
Charlie was – oh god. Oh god, Charlie was holding hands with Nick. Nick had taken Charlie’s hand, their fingers together and they were here and together and this was impossible. This was impossible and it was happening and Charlie was squeezing his eyes shut to try to stay present and not burst into tears and to avoid looking at Danny who was so gorgeously in love and Nick was holding his hand and somehow Harriet was still singing like the entire world hadn’t changed in a second.
In my bedroom when I was a child
I imagined that same exact smile
In my dreams, oh, you drove me half wild
I thought for sure it was all in my mind
You could never exist in real life
Yet somehow you do
Oh, somehow you do
Charlie had to press his lips together to stop the emotion from bursting out when Nick stroked his thumb over Charlie’s forefinger, caressing gently over skin that felt electrified. Charlie took a shaking breath and did the same thing to Nick, brushing his thumb over Nick’s hand. Nick looked at him and Charlie looked up, their eyes meeting. There was – oh god, there was that look in Nick’s eyes again, the one that had thrown Charlie for the last few weeks. Was this – Nick was looking at him. Was Nick looking at him in the same way Charlie looked at Nick? Charlie took another trembly breath and leaned slightly in towards Nick, Nick immediately nestling their bodies close together. Charlie felt a tear slip down his cheek, the feeling of rightness overwhelming.
There must have been angels
Singing sweetly above me
Oh, do you love
Me?
Charlie let the tears flow out of his eyes freely now as Harriet held the word, her voice vibrating and feeling as though it was pressing against Charlie’s heart. He was clutching at Nick’s hand like it was the last thing he would ever hold. If it was, it was the most tender and beautiful thing Charlie could have had in his final moments. Their hands gripped one another’s and their shoulders pressed into each other as Harriet sang the last few lines a capella. James had gotten up and made his way over to Danny, Charlie’s eyes glued to the two of them.
There's nobody who
Makes me feel like you do
I know that it's always been
You
James lowered himself to one knee and Charlie clutched at Nick’s hand. He couldn’t keep the tiny sob suppressed when Nick squeezed his hand back, fingers and thumb skimming across Charlie’s hand even as they stayed interlaced. Charlie forced himself to look up and saw everyone else looking equally emotional, though he doubted anyone else’s world had been as fundamentally changed forever as his just was. Well, besides Danny’s of course, who was now openly sobbing.
“Danny,” said James, voice breaking with emotion. Danny got down on his knees to join James, the two of them holding hands and shaking as they both laugh-cried.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Danny said shakily, making all of them laugh. Nick pulsed Charlie’s hand and a wave of warmth swept through Charlie’s body. God. God, they were still holding hands. Charlie was holding hands with Nick, and Nick hadn’t let him go.
“Danny,” James repeated, voice shaking. “You are… you are the fucking love of my life, you cunt.”
Danny laugh-sobbed, lacing his fingers in James’s hair and drawing their foreheads to touch. “God, I love you, Walkie.”
James leaned forward and kissed Danny’s forehead with a soft, heart-breakingly beautiful sound. He looked at Danny with love that Charlie had only dreamed of before he’d come to Lavender Fields. “When I met you eleven years ago in that room at UQ… I had been hiding from everyone for so long already. I’d been hiding from myself for so long, too. I truly didn’t think that what I wanted could be possible.” James took another unsteady breath. “But more than that, I never thought you were possible,” James said, and Charlie let out a tiny gasp, unable to suppress it.
Nick – his impossible, beautiful, perfect Nick – Nick was holding his hand. And now Nick was caressing his thumb against Charlie’s fingers, making the lump in Charlie’s throat only grow.
“I didn’t know there could be a person like you, Danny,” James continued. He reached out and touched Danny’s cheekbone, Danny letting out a sob and Charlie’s heart swelling. Charlie had never seen tenderness like this, not between two men. Maybe it had been Ben, maybe it had been media, but now, Charlie felt like he was seeing and feeling what was possible and it was devastatingly beautiful. “Someone kind, and creative, and caring, and so thoughtful. Someone painfully funny, who makes me laugh like I didn’t know I knew how to. Someone—” Here, James’s voice broke again, Charlie’s heart breaking along with it for James. “Someone so forgiving.”
Danny shook his head and gently pressed his middle and ring fingers against James’s lips. Charlie fought down another wave of emotion, gripping Nick’s hand like it was the only thing holding him to Earth. James nodded and closed his eyes, a few tears slipping out. James opened his eyes and looked at Danny again. “Someone that everyone loves, but somehow sends even more love out. I can’t believe that you’re a person in this world, Danny. And more than anything, I can’t believe that I get to have you as my person. And I want you to be my person forever, baby. I didn’t know love like this could exist, and even if I did, I never would have thought I would get to have it. The idea that I could have a love like that and that love could be you…” James dropped his head for a moment and when he lifted it, the tears were steadily coming down his face. “God, Danny, what did I get right to deserve somebody like you?”
Charlie could feel himself almost convulsing now, the sobs fighting to get out. He felt Nick’s shoulder shaking beside him and then Nick was – Nick was holding him, his arm pulling Charlie’s body close. Charlie let himself cry and tucked himself into Nick’s chest, clutching against the warm, firm muscle that wrapped around the man who held his heart. They drew each other close as James spoke once more, taking Danny’s hands in his.
“Danny Turner. Will you marry me?”
“Fuck you,” squeaked Danny, making everyone laugh through their tears. “I had so many plans to propose.”
James smiled, though he was still crying. “I know. They all terrified me.”
“I put down like thirty nonrefundable deposits,” said Danny, James laughing. “Fuck yes, James Walker. I will marry the shit out of you.” They surged towards one another and fell to the floor, kissing and crying. Everyone seemed to move at once, getting up and embracing one another. No one seemed to notice that Charlie and Nick had been – had been holding hands like that. Amy seized Charlie in an embrace as James pulled out a ring, presenting it to Danny.
James smiled as he opened a box that revealed the most startlingly sparkly ring Charlie had ever seen. “I wanted to propose to you without the ring in hand and get your true answer so you wouldn’t just say yes for the ring. Four and a half carats of moissanite, my love.”
“IT’S SO SPARKLY,” Danny beamed. James put the ring on his finger and then Danny kiss-tackled James again, drawing him close as everyone laughed through their sniffles. Charlie was hugging Amy and it was lovely, but his skin ached, like every cell wanted to be close to Nick again. They had held hands. They had held hands with each other, and it was possibly the most life-changing moment Charlie had ever yet experienced.
“I’ll be right back,’ Danny declared, darting out of the room and returning with a velvet box. “James Lord Everton Walker,” said Danny seriously, making everyone laugh. Charlie looked around, puzzled, catching a warm look on Nick’s face that seemed to promise that he would tell Charlie later. “I am so mad that you proposed first and now I promise that I will randomly propose to you for the rest of our lives forever.” James threw his head back and laughed, dropping down to the same height as Danny, their faces again close to each other, James clutching at one of Danny’s arms. “Will you marry me?”
James kissed Danny gently on the forehead again and then on the mouth, their lips brushing gentle. “Yes, my love.” They kissed once more and then James winced, looking at the ring box Danny was holding. “Am I going to be able to even pick up my hand?” Danny grinned again and opened the box, a much more simple ring sparkling out. It was a channelled ring with what looked like diamond dust, strong and glittering.
Danny looked at James, and it seemed like James was all Danny could see. “It’s a ring for you,” he said quietly. “Not for me.” James picked up the ring, and Charlie could see some lines on the inside of the ring. “Yours and mine. Forever together.”
James squeezed his eyes shut as Danny slipped on the ring, his tears flowing again. Everyone was smiling and crying. Regan and Tex were nuzzling against one another, with Harriet, Amy and Seamus tucked together, Amy and Seamus both holding Harriet as she sobbed tears of joy. Charlie could feel his skin tingling as Nick moved to stand close again. A jolt of excited bliss shot through him when Nick’s fingers found his again, his fingertips whispering against Charlie’s.
Charlie sighed, feeling both more upended and more settled than he’d ever been at the same time. He swallowed back another cry as Nick slipped his fingers into Charlie’s, their hands pressing together once more. They were holding hands again, standing in the back of a room and watching two amazing people get engaged. Their arms were pressed together and their bodies were close and they were holding hands. Charlie’s mind flipped and spun, searching for rational reasons this had happened, something that might provide a devastating explanation.
But there was nothing. This seemed unmistakable. Nick was holding his hand, and Nick had wanted to hold his hand. Even knowing that they were sharing a bedroom the next night, Nick was holding Charlie’s hand. Nick’s thumb stroked against Charlie’s finger again and Charlie thought he might fly into the air like he was being raptured. This was real. This was happening. This was everything.
In the confused, shocked tumult of his mind, Charlie felt the same few thoughts tumble and emerge, whispering words that Charlie had never dared believe before. What if this hadn’t just been Charlie’s desperate hope? What if this was real? What if…
What if Nick felt the same way that Charlie did?
Notes:
It’s warming up where I am, and I’ve started to make my favorite summer salad again. It’s so simple and delicious:
2 large tomatoes
3 ripe avocados
1 large cucumber
2 scallions/green onions
Nonfat plain greek yogurt
Roasted garlic powder (regular garlic powder works, too)
Sea salt
PepperDice the tomatoes. Lay them on a clean tea towel and sprinkle them with salt. While they are de-juicing, dice the avocado and the cucumber. Chop the scallions. Squeeze out excess juice from the tomatoes and then mix the veggies with the yogurt (whatever amount makes you happy). Add garlic, salt, and pepper to taste. You can always mix this one up with whatever vegetables you like: corn and peppers are also great in here.
See you next week for Danny and James!
Chapter 47: Charlie's POV: Countdown
Summary:
Charlie and Nick held hands and Charlie is like, whatever, that was cool I guess. And now it’s New Year’s Eve at Lavender Fields.
Notes:
Roses are red,
Planets can be blue
Betas have cute butts
Just like the gorgeous waveofyou
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
What in the fuckity fucking fuck had that been?
Like… what the fuck?
Charlie was staring at his hand, just visible in the moonlight filtering through the window of his room. His room. Soon to be their room – his and Nick’s. Because Nick and Charlie were sharing a bedroom the next night, and the night after. Charlie was going to be sharing a bedroom with Nick, who had just – held his hand? Who had laced his fingers with Charlie’s and then – and fucking then – stroked Charlie’s finger with his thumb like Charlie’s hand was a delicate little kitten?!
What in the ever-fucking fucklet had happened earlier??
Charlie went through the evening again in his mind. The whole night had been one of those incredible experiences that Charlie knew he’d remember for the rest of his life. It started with the match, Nick’s shoulder nudging his as he would lean over and point out something about a play to Charlie. Then it had been Charlie, Amy, and Nick together in the car, singing and laughing until Charlie’s stomach hurt. It had been just as wonderful back at Lavender Fields, the whole group giggling and raucous as they drank and played games. Playing through all of this like a film, Charlie’s mind finally got to the part of the evening which glittered in his mind, the scenes that played through his memory with gold lace on the edges.
Charlie thought back to what it felt like with James on the piano and Harriet’s powerful voice filling up the room and Charlie’s chest at once. He’d already been teetering on the edge of tears, struck by the intensity of emotion and vulnerability that James and Danny were showing – and then Nick had taken Charlie’s hand.
Nick had taken Charlie’s hand.
Charlie’s stomach curled up pleasantly, heat pooling in his torso and spreading out like warm water to his limbs as he brought himself back to those moments from a few hours ago. Nick had taken his hand. They’d held hands as the music swelled and surrounded them, the air thick with love and unasked questions. Then the song had finished and James asked Danny to marry him. Everyone was crying, and Nick was holding Charlie’s hand. Danny rushed out to get a ring that he’d apparently just been keeping on him in case of duelling proposals, and proposed right back to James. The whole group was hugging and laughing and Nick had been still holding Charlie’s motherfucking hand like some mother-fucking handholder. When Nick finally let go of Charlie to hug and congratulate Danny and James, Charlie felt like he’d gotten out from under a warm blanket, the comfort whipped away too quickly and leaving his body colder than before.
The rest of the night had been fun, boozy and drunk. Though honestly, Charlie felt more heady from what happened with Nick than from the alcohol. James and Danny made Charlie feel like he was truly a part of everything during the celebrations, which surprisingly no longer made Charlie feel surprised. That was just who Nick’s friends were. He and Nick were never far apart, though Nick hadn’t taken his hand again, and Charlie hadn’t taken his. Charlie wanted to. God, he wanted that so badly. But that had been – maybe Nick had been overcome by emotion? Maybe Nick had needed some support? Maybe Nick had a sudden spell of vertigo and had to clutch on Charlie’s hand in order to stay upright?
Or maybe Nick likes you the way you like him? The small, sly voice startled Charlie, tickling up the back of his neck. Maybe –
“Sorry I did this the night before your friends got here, Charlie,” James had said to him with a friendly pat on Charlie’s arm and an apologetic look, making Charlie jump a little. “But honestly, this is so not me to do stuff like this in front of other people, so I wanted as small a group as possible.”
Charlie smiled back at James, holding up his hands in a gesture of understanding. “I totally get that. I’m amazed you were able to play that song and keep it together.”
James nodded and laughed. “Me too, mate. Though I think Harriet is the real hero here.”
Harriet looked over and gave the two of them a grin, her smile nearly a perfect copy of James’s. She tossed her head and half-shrugged. “It was nothing.” Then Harriet looked around, pretending to stage-whisper to Nick and Charlie. “Oh my god, that is a lie. It was so hard. I almost lost it every single second looking at those two.”
“Speaking of so hard,” Danny purred, wrapping his arms around James from the back and murmuring something to only him that would probably raise an obscenity flag if typed into a search engine. “I have been engaged for over two hours and haven’t gotten to have any solo time with my fiance yet,” he announced to the group of them, shaking his head as though the sole purpose of everyone in the room was to prevent him from getting laid. “And that is both extremely panphobic and Oceaniaphobic.”
Harriet pulled a face. “Ugh, that’s my brother, you disgusting Australian pervert.”
Charlie laughed aloud when Danny scooped James over his shoulder like a caveman, grinning maniacally at all of them before rushing off towards their bedroom with James’s red, laughing face sparkling with joy as it receded.
Tex shook his head and gave a morose-sounding sigh. “I owe a lot of people a lot of money. I never thought it would be James proposing over Danny.”
Charlie nodded in agreement, everyone laughing and saying similar things. Charlie had gone - well, he’d maybe gone a little deep on his initial research for Danny and James when Nick told him about them and read through many of Danny’s Insta posts. Based on Danny’s borderline obsession with his then-boyfriend, Charlie had guessed that he would have been the one to propose as well. Though as he and James had alluded to, Charlie guessed there would have been much more of a risk of fire or legal charges if Danny had proposed the way he dreamed of.
The rest of them chatted for a bit before the endorphins and adrenaline finally started to wear off, the late hour and busyness of the day catching up to everyone. Regan reminded the group to use their white noise machines, a few thumps and exclamations already just-audible, floating past some likely now-scandalised portrait people. Charlie stretched long on the spot, accidentally bumping Nick with his hip. He looked over and smiled, ready to apologise, but was caught off guard by Nick’s glowing smile. They held each other’s gazes and there was a long moment where Charlie wanted to step closer and wrap their hands together again to feel their wrists grazing over each other’s as their hands joined.
“Come on, Charlie, come up with me,” Amy said, snapping Charlie out of his fantasy. “I can show you how the beds separate into twins for tomorrow night and then can give you a hand with it tomorrow, too.”
Separate the beds. Because there were two beds. Right. One bedroom, two beds. One Nick Nelson, two beds. Too many beds. “Oh, yeah,” said Charlie absently. He looked back at Nick, remembering that the bedroom sharing was because Nick was inviting his friends – Charlie’s friends – to join them. “Thanks for letting Elle and Tao and all of them come down to join. I know they’re going to love it here.”
“I’m so glad they’re coming,” said Nick, his mouth hitching up in that gorgeous half-grin. Charlie wanted to kiss that half-grin more than he could say, his body keening with the want of it. “I’m excited to meet more people from your life. I’m also so, so happy you got to be here for that to happen with Danny and James. I’ve been waiting for that for ages.” Nick’s eyes flickered down to Charlie’s hand, and Charlie felt his breath catch in the trembling pause. “I was really glad that I got to share that with you.” Nick flushed and Charlie felt the same blush creep up his own neck. Was Nick talking about… sharing holding hands? Was that what he had been waiting for for ages?! “Uh, that we got to share that with you.”
“I’m really happy about that, too,” said Charlie quietly, choosing to ignore Nick’s hurried correction. There was another quivering moment where time seemed to slow down, and Charlie’s breath didn’t feel like it was quite getting to his lungs. Nick was so close. If Charlie just leaned forward they would – no. No, Charlie’s brain was a bowl of reduced-sugar pudding, loose and not fully satisfying. Abort, Charlie. He blinked and stepped back, opening up space between his body and Nick’s. “Goodnight, Nick.”
“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Nick, his shoulders dropping a little. Charlie cocked his head at that, but then Nick pulled him into a close embrace, their bodies perfectly fitted together. They released each other and said goodnight to everyone, Charlie following Amy up the stairs.
Amy and Charlie chatted as they went upstairs, both of them saying over and over how incredible the proposal was. They stood in Charlie’s room for a few recalling how amazing it had all been – Charlie privately reflecting on how amazing it was for him in particular – and laughing at what they thought Danny and James’s wedding was going to be like.
“This is the right time to buy stock in a glitter company,” Amy said, shaking her head in wonder. “Danny fucking Turner getting married? The world is not ready.”
Charlie laughed. “The question is not what 90s or early 2000s girlpop act Danny is going to book, it is which bands and how many of them.”
Amy snorted. “Can you imagine how he’ll have his wedding party dressed?”
“Oh my god,” said Charlie, laughing. “I hope to god you are in the wedding.”
“I hope to god I’m not,” Amy volleyed back. “I’m not ready to be loaded down by 20 kilos of Swarovski crystals and/or riding into a venue on the back of a white horse with a horn glued on its head.”
Charlie laughed and then covered his mouth, recalling that Tex and Regan had come up to bed already. He lowered his voice and looked at Amy, trying to summon up some false cheer. “So – you said you know how to separate the beds?”
“Yeah,” said Amy, her eyebrows pinching together as a strange expression crossed her face. She pressed a hand to her stomach and groaned softly, the other hand gripping the doorway.
“You all right?” Charlie asked, stepping towards her.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice sounding strained. “I just - ugh, I just got such a wave of nausea. I think I drank too much goon.”
“I know the feeling,” Charlie said sympathetically. Danny had insisted that “Slap the Bag” was a post-engagement custom after Australian proposals and that not participating was a rejection of his culture. “Do you need anything?”
“I think I just need to go to bed,” Amy said weakly, stepping backwards towards the doorway. “I’ll show you how to do the beds tomorrow, is that all right?”
“Of course,” Charlie said back soothingly. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks,” said Amy, nodding and slowly making her way out of the room, still clutching at her midsection. “See you in the morning, babes.”
Charlie messaged her a few minutes later to check in and she said she was all right, so Charlie had rolled over and tried to go to sleep. Tried.
He really had, cycling through endless things that didn’t work to try to clear his mind. Every time Charlie closed his eyes, he was back in the parlour with Nick’s warm, thick fingers wrapping around his own. Each time Charlie tried to drift off, a dizzy and exhilarating swoop pulled his stomach up and made Charlie’s eyes snap open, wondering what it had meant and what Nick had been thinking and when the fuck it would happen again. Charlie had thought about that last part over and over. Why had that happened, and then? Was it the music? He and Nick had listened to music before and that had never happened. Was it the love in the room? Maybe, but Charlie didn’t think…
Was it how close together they had been? Was it because they were pressed into one small space, feeling like it was a world just for them? Charlie’s breath caught and his eyes snapped back open, thinking about tomorrow night. Tomorrow, they’d be in this room together. Charlie imagined Nick laying next to him, their beds separated only by a small stretch of floor. He thought about what it would be like to hear Nick breathing as he slept, to know the sounds that Nick made when he fell asleep. Charlie closed his eyes again and imagined the bed closer together. He imagined the bed as they were one – as one bed.
Charlie thought about Nick sliding into bed with him, the covers rustling as Nick slid closer. In his fantasy, Nick ran his hand up Charlie’s body, cupping his hip and pulling Charlie roughly to him. Nick drew Charlie close, and then his mouth was on Charlie’s. His lips were soft and wanting, his tongue in Charlie’s mouth. Then their bodies would get even closer and they–
Nick wouldn’t.
Nick wouldn’t do that.
And it wasn’t because Nick didn’t like Charlie – that, bafflingly and against all odds, seemed to not be the case. Charlie had chased his own brain in circles for months explaining it away but now – now – Charlie thought that there might be something to it. Nick might actually like Charlie, too. It would explain so much… the hugs. The Hug (trademark pending). The long, soft looks. The way Nick had chosen his words carefully, talking about who he would date. Charlie gripped the covers as though he could squeeze sense out of them, reflecting on it all now. Nick might like him.
He sighed. Nick might like him, but Nick wouldn’t do the things that fantasy Nick did in his mind. In Charlie’s imagination, even with the beds split apart, fantasy Nick would still choose to get in Charlie’s bed, his feelings so overwhelming that he couldn’t fight them any more. But Charlie knew that real life Nick wouldn’t do that. Nick was kind, thoughtful, respectful. Nick was so aware of Charlie and what he wanted. Nick wasn’t the type of man who would assume that Charlie – or anyone – wanted him or was attracted to him. Nick not only would seek consent from a partner, but maybe Nick… maybe Nick wouldn’t even bring any of it up.
Charlie sighed and covered his face with a pillow. He sat up and reached for his notebook, snapping on the lamp and knowing sleep was a lost cause for now. Charlie uncapped his pen and opened to a fresh journal page.
What Nick was probably thinking right now (if he likes me)
- Charlie was engaged 3 months ago
- Charlie’s ex was a fucking douche
- Charlie isn’t ready to date
- Charlie isn’t ready to kiss someone
- Charlie might not want to kiss him in front of other people
- Charlie might not like Nick back
That one made him snort. Nick would have to be the most adorably confused human on the planet to not realise that Charlie Spring was utterly in love with him. He sobered and looked back at the page, pen hovering hesitantly before he wrote a few last things.
- Nick would want to talk to Charlie before something happened
- Nick would never want to make Charlie uncomfortable
Charlie sighed, looking at the last two bullet points. Those were really it, weren’t they? Nick would never want to make Charlie uncomfortable. That probably extended even to talking, if Nick was worried that it was too soon for Charlie to think about liking someone else. By that logic, Nick wouldn’t bring up the idea of… them. He might think it was too soon or too pushy and so many other things that weren’t true at all. Nick would also never try anything without talking to Charlie first. That meant that there’d be no kissing until there was talking, and Nick wouldn’t start the talking first.
That meant that Charlie would need to do it. He’d need to broach the terrifying topic of liking Nick. Of wanting to kiss Nick. And he’d have to do that with Nick, not just in his head. Charlie’s stomach twisted less pleasantly this time, thinking about that conversation. He’d need to start it and he’d need to lead it. He’d need to be present in it. Charlie set aside his notebook and turned on his side, his brain settled at least a little after writing it all down. Charlie would have to talk to Nick first, and though it terrified him, they had all day tomorrow before they shared a room. Charlie could talk to Nick.
Charlie would talk to Nick.
-
He just needed to find the right time.
It ended up being a busy day, which was a mixed blessing. It was hard because Charlie was exhausted, having only slept a few hours the night before. On the other hand, the rush of the day kept Charlie from just staring slack-jawed at Nick’s hand, trying to Matilda it into taking his own.
Charlie stumbled downstairs bleary-eyed, the three or so hours of sleep not near enough, especially not with a hangover. His heart sultana further quivered and shrank when he went downstairs and saw Nick and his gorgeous smile, greeting Charlie and making him feel like the day was made just for the two of them. They moved easily around the kitchen together, getting things together for everyone. There were even brief touches between them, too – ones where Nick’s fingers would breathe on Charlie’s back or arm for a fraction of a second when reaching past him. There were touches, but they were tiny, aching, not-enough brushes of contact. Still, they were still connections that sent a shower of electricity melting and sizzling through Charlie’s nerves, already on edge from the evening before.
Charlie and Nick didn’t truly have that much to do, as the farm neighbours came by to help with breakfast. Charlie was disappointed and a tiny bit relieved that the little girl/ghost/little girl ghost Jenny hadn’t come with them this time. She was probably at home either drawing pictures of some bad-arse female hero or learning how to spin her head around three hundred and sixty degrees. In the relatively low responsibility, Charlie and Nick were able to join the group (minus Danny and James, who hadn’t emerged yet) at the table and relax over breakfast.
Charlie loved watching Nick with his friends. It was like – it was like Elle and Tao with their friends. There were small jokes and gentle teasing, everyone genuinely comfortable with each other. It was truly nothing like being with Ben’s friends. Nick’s friends were open and silly and kind, not afraid to say nice things to each other in between the joking. Charlie hadn’t realised what a small and important thing that was – to have kindness mixed in with the sarcasm and rinsing. The entire time, everyone was fun and relaxed, though Charlie knew he wasn't fully relaxed. He was next to Nick Nelson basically every moment – the man who did electric, glowing things to Charlie’s body. They were rarely apart for more than a minute, Nick sometimes leaning into Charlie’s shoulder as he belly-laughed. The day just got even more fun when Danny and James rejoined them in the parlour. Danny blew kisses and rained them over his friends, accepting their adulation with regal regard. The time had flown by so quickly that Charlie was genuinely startled when his phone buzzed.
“Oh,” said Charlie, looking at his phone and smiling when he saw Tori’s name. He skimmed the message that she and Olly were getting closer. “My sister said that she and my brother will be here in an hour.”
Tex grinned and yawned, stretching. “That’s right, I forgot they were coming. Your brother’s a Badgers fan, right Charlie?”
“Right,” Charlie nodded, messaging both Tori and Olly back to say that he’d see them soon.
Seamus raised his chin confidently. “I’ll convert him to a Sale fan by the end of the afternoon.”
“Good luck,” Charlie said with a laugh, thinking of the now intensely decorated room that Olly occupied, looking like the Badgers’ team shop had vomited on its walls. He grinned at Nick, who had supplied most of the vomit. “He’s already enamoured with pretty much everyone in this room.”
Danny whined and pulled at James until James collapsed in with him in a chair too small for their bodies. “Impossible not to be,” Danny drawled. “We’re enthralling. And hot.”
Charlie laughed and the rest of the group did, the conversation shifting to some calendar that the team once did, the lads posing with kittens. He turned to Nick and spoke a little quieter, just for them. “Thanks for letting everyone come today. Olly and Tori and then like, Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara. It’s so nice to have everyone here.”
“I know the feeling,” Nick replied with a smile, his eyes on Charlie’s in the way that made Charlie’s stomach jump into his chest. “I love that feeling of having everyone I care about right here.”
Charlie breathed through his nose, just managing to suppress the gasp that tried to escape. Nick – Nick cared about him. Nick cared about Charlie. And it seemed like… was this Nick, trying to hint at something? Charlie looked into Nick’s eyes, not dropping his gaze. In case it was Nick trying to say something, Charlie gathered his thoughts to put Nick at ease and try to give that gorgeous boy every hint and sign that it wasn’t just him. “I love that feeling, too,” he said softly.
There was a moment that swelled and pressed in around them, their eyes locked on one another’s. Charlie thought he saw Nick’s hand twitch just perceptibly when Amy’s voice broke in, startling both of them out of the magic.
“Does that work, Nick?”
Nick blinked, looking confused. He turned to look at Amy, finally breaking the unintentional smouldering contest. “Sorry, what?”
“Regan and I are happy to go get champagne and a few other things for tonight so you can be here when Charlie's brother and sister arrive, then I can help with a few of the other things to get everything ready. Does that work?”
“Oh,” said Nick distractedly. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, that works. Thank you, I appreciate that.”
Amy gave Charlie a quick look, then glanced back at Nick, her face easing into a grin. “No problem, babes.”
Charlie looked at Nick, who still looked a little dizzied. Charlie felt the same way. Today more than ever before, there were these moments, where the air seemed to sizzle and pop between them. It might have been that there had been moments like this before, but Charlie had explained them away, like he had been thinking about last night. Now, Charlie thought that it was possible – it was actually fucking possible – that Nick might like him. In that lens, there was so much more behind what Nick said and didn’t say. Charlie desperately wished that the two of them could have some time alone, but with so many people in the house, it didn’t happen. And before Charlie knew it, it was 2:00 and Olly was sending him a delighted message that he and Tori would be pulling up momentarily.
Charlie beamed as he looked down at his phone, practically hearing Olly’s delight through the messages. He glanced up to see Nick looking at him quizzically, and Charlie grinned. “They’re here,” he told Nick, sliding off the counter where he’d perched during conversation. He made his way to the door and then turned, surprised to not see footsteps. Charlie looked at Nick to see him hovering, still in the kitchen. “Aren’t you coming?”
Nick cocked his head curiously at Charlie, looking like an adorable retriever more than a massive rugby lad for a moment. “I - don’t you want the chance to say hi, like - privately?” Charlie fixed Nick with a look, rolling his eyes and inclining his head in an for serious, mate? sort of expression. Nick laughed and held up his hands, immediately capitulating. “Okay. Yes. Pot. My name is kettle. Got it.”
“I knew you’d get there,” said Charlie, then grinned and pulled Nick by the sleeve towards the door. Nick was the magic human who had insisted on Olly getting to visit with the Badgers, a kindness that was beyond anything Charlie had ever expected or thought possible from a man in his orbit. “Come on!”
Charlie hurried to the car, where Olly was already spilling out in a tangle of teenage limbs. He looked around and his eyes landed on Nick, Olly’s whole face looking as young as Charlie had seen it in years. “You’re Nick Nelson,” breathed Olly, his face almost literally the star-eyed emoji.
Nick made the same face, shooting his eyebrows up. “And you’re Oliver Spring,” he returned, Olly’s face somehow glowing even brighter. God, if Charlie hadn’t been in love with Nick Nelson before, he was a terminal case now. “I’m so glad you’re here, mate!”
Charlie tore his gaze away from the heartwarming scene, suddenly remembering that he was in fact Olly’s brother and had received zero point zero greetings yet. “AHEM,” he intoned loudly, holding out his arms and waiting for a hug. Olly grinned and hugged Charlie, who was shocked to see that he and his little brother were now almost exactly the same height.
“And I’m here too,” said Tori, appearing in the absolutely astonishing way that she could.
“Tori!” Charlie exclaimed, his heart thumping a little faster at her sudden materialisation. There were moments growing up when Charlie thought she might literally be capable of teleportation. “How was the trip down here?”
“Thrilling,” said Tori dryly at the same time that Olly enthused, “Great!”
Nick laughed and Charlie looked at him, both Tori and Olly doing the same. Nick appeared momentarily abashed and then cleared his throat, turning to Olly. “Charlie said you’re interested in veterinary studies, is that right?”
Olly looked at Nick, and Charlie at first internally grinned at how moon-eyed Olly was before realising with a humbling jolt that it was probably what his face looked like when he was staring at Nick, too. “Yeah,” said Olly, still too awed by Nick to talk endlessly (as he normally did). “That’s what I want to study at uni.”
“Reckon you’d like to meet a few friends of mine?” asked Nick. “I know a few Badgers and a few bovines that would love to say hi.”
Olly’s eyes widened and he laugh-cackled, making even Tori step back in muted surprise. “Uh, yeah,” he said, calming down and giving a shrug that one hundred percent did nothing to make him seem chill. “That would be nice.”
“Let’s start bovine,” Nick smiled at Olly, making Charlie melt. Then he shot a half-wink at Charlie and Charlie had to check to see if he was actually a puddle on the ground. “Charlie, are you in moo-d to say hi to Nellie and Henry?”
Charlie rolled his eyes to try to cover the heat, flushing his face. “Of course. Anything for the girls.”
“First time you’ve ever said that,” said Tori, and Charlie snorted and shoved her with his shoulder as Nick laughed. Tori was one of the most wickedly and quietly funny people in his life, and he’d missed spending time around her. Tori glanced over at Nick and gave him an appraising look, one Charlie had seen her give many, many people. He held his breath and then let it out, seeing the tiny relaxation in her shoulders that meant she didn’t immediately dislike Nick. Did she almost even – ‘Tori Spring’ smile? Charlie grinned to himself as they started to make their way to the barn.
Olly seemed to get over his shyness, asking Nick endless questions about cows and heifers and steers that Nick tried to answer. Olly kept chattering away, not at all dissuaded by Nick’s limited bovine knowledge. “Are they breeding stock?” Olly asked, nearly tripping over his feet as the four of them half-slid down the hill to the paddock.
“No,” said Nick. “No breeding for them. They took a cow of chastity when they came here.”
Olly’s laugh rang out and Tori snorted. Charlie stopped in his tracks and shook his head as Olly choked out, “That’s brilliant!”
Nick grinned and pointed at Olly. “I like this Spring best.”
Olly beamed and Charlie felt his heart swell in his chest, revelling in how loving, gentle, and fun Nick was with his younger brother. They arrived at the paddock and Olly was thrilled, cooing over the cows and rubbing their faces. Charlie hung back a bit with Tori to let Olly spend time with the cows and Nick, Nick asking Olly thoughtful questions about what Olly wanted to study and what he cared about. Charlie watched the scene with a lump in his throat, swallowing against the burn. The way Nick was interacting with Olly didn’t seem like it was an obligation for Nick. His attention was fully on Olly, and Nick was taking in Olly’s answers, nodding and asking follow-up questions. It was so startlingly, wonderfully different to Ben. Ben had acted as if talking to Olly was a chore, a task he needed to check off his list. Nick wasn’t like that at all. Charlie swivelled his eyes over to see Tori watching Nick and Olly talking, sipping from her lemonade and slowly brushing cow hair off her clothes.
They all went back to the house, and Charlie could hear the lads chatting on the porch. Olly’s eyes widened as the faces came into view, with Seamus, Danny, James, and Tex all on the porch, grinning at them as Charlie and the others made their way up.
Danny stood and crossed his arms, squinting at Olly in faux-appraisal and then addressing the other men. “Ah. Lads. This is the competition I’ve heard about. The one who’s going to kick all of our arses in a scrimmage shortly.”
“Looks the type,” agreed Tex, nodding. “If he’s anything like his brother he’s slicker than pig snot and faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind.” Olly’s mouth dropped open in confusion, then Tex laughed and dropped the act, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”
“Yes… meet…” said Olly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Hi.” Charlie’s chest ached with fondness again as the Badgers got up, introducing themselves and shaking hands. This was maybe one of the most incredible moments of his life. His former partners had always seemed confused or unsure about how to interact with Olly, what with him being so much younger than Charlie. Nick didn’t have any of that, and clearly went to the effort to prepare his friends to receive Olly, as well. It was so perfectly Nick to do this. He was kindness and care embodied in one fit fucking human. Olly looked around after the handshakes, addressing Nick. “Did he say… something about a match?”
“He sure did,” Nick said with a grin. “You up for it?” Olly nodded excitedly and then was swept into a pre-match talk with Danny. Charlie was now pressing his lips together to try to keep from tearing up. “Hey,” said Nick softly, and Charlie looked over, trying to school his face. “You all right?”
Am I all right? Watching you treat my little brother like a human who matters? Am I all right seeing you genuinely care about my family? Sure, if ‘all right’ is a synonym for ‘absolutely in love and deeply fucked’. “Yeah,” Charlie was able to get out, a smile spreading across his face. He was so grateful for Nick and all he was doing. Then Charlie blinked, realising that Nick really was doing a lot. Like, physically doing a lot. “You sure you don’t mind, like…playing?” Charlie asked, looking at Nick. “I bet you’re tired from getting everything ready, and the match yesterday and stuff…” Charlie trailed off at the look on Nick’s face, an amused and patient expression.
“Hmm,” said Nick, cocking an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone’s afraid of getting shown up on the pitch.”
The worry drained away, replaced by the delight that Charlie might get “tackled” by Nick again. That would be just terrible. “Oh, you’re on, old man.”
“Old man?!” blustered Nick.
Charlie crossed his arms. “You heard me.”
Nick laughed and gave Charlie the shadow of another wink, almost untying his shoelaces with how hot it felt. “Prove it on the pitch, Springtime.”
Charlie and the others quickly got ready, seemingly all aware that Olly and Tori couldn’t stay long. Charlie’s heart was probably bruised at this point from all the aching, so in wonder that the team was all willing to do this for him. For Olly. Danny, Olly, Nick, and Seamus ended up on a team against Charlie, Harriet, Tex, and James. Nick and Seamus took it on themselves to protect Olly from any possible tackles, sometimes physically lifting him by the elbows to get him out of potential touch range.
Charlie laughed wildly as they played, overjoyed at the entire experience. Still, he was a Spring, and that made him competitive. He tried to go for Olly once to get the ball, but Nick intercepted him, seizing Charlie by the hips with gentle hands and pulling him down to the grass. Charlie landed on top of Nick, laughing with his heart racing. There was another perfect, palpable moment where Charlie rolled on his side and caught Nick’s eye, both of them smiling at each other. Then Nick pushed himself up and hauled Charlie up too, both of them giggling and pushing at each other’s arms as they rose.
The match ended in a predictable fix, Olly’s team declared the winners and Olly deemed the man of the match. The group all stumbled inside after the game, bodies steaming from exertion. The rugby boys all handed around the match ball, signing it and then bestowing it on Olly, declaring him an honorary Badger.
“You’re one of us now, mate,” grinned Danny, dropping an arm round Olly’s shoulders and making him stagger with the weight. Danny dropped his voice conspiratorially. “Honestly, you’re better than Seamus. Maybe we can send you as a temporary replacement to try to get Sale nearly as good as the Badgers.”
Seamus grinned cheekily at Danny then nodded at Olly. “I tell you what, Olly, you come to a Sharks match and I’ll give you a Premiership match ball. At least that way you’ll get one touched by me, unlike Danny. Butterfingers over there didn’t have any carries in his last match.”
Tex whispered, “Burn!” and James laughed. Danny pointed at Seamus. “I will have you know–” here, he turned to James, his finger trained on his fiancé now “—and have you know that I am amazing at handling balls. I can handle them rough, handle them gently, handle–”
Nick cleared his throat loudly and swivelled his eyes towards Olly, shaking his head firmly at Danny. Charlie giggled, knowing that Olly had heard much, much worse. But it was adorable to see Nick acting like a mother hen, worrying about what Olly might hear. The lot of them chatted for a bit until Tori, who had been watching quietly and taking it all in, nudged Charlie.
“It’s about time for us to go,” she said, meeting Charlie’s gaze for a moment.
Charlie sighed. “I wish you could stay.”
“I know,” she said. “But I promised Michael that we’d be able to–”
“I know,” Charlie said back over her. “And you and Michael and Olly are going to have an amazing time.”
“I feel like you might have a good time, too,” said Tori. Charlie whipped his head to look more closely at her, but she was already bending her head over her bag. She went and let Olly know, who was sad but understanding. The lads all said goodbye and then Charlie walked his siblings to the door, Nick trailing behind them.
“Thanks for coming,” Nick said genuinely to Olly, seizing him in a quick hug. Charlie suppressed a laugh at the way Olly’s eyes widened and he patted Nick’s arm somewhat frantically. Nick extended the rugby ball to Olly with a smile. “Don’t forget this, you earned it.”
“Thank you,” Olly said back, looking at Nick with amazed eyes.
“Brilliant to meet you, mate,” said Nick. “You’ll be coming to a Badgers match soon, yeah? You’ll have to go with me and Charlie.”
With me and Charlie? Charlie tried to keep his face relaxed, nodding casually. Yeah, come to a match with me and Charlie. It’s, like, cool, or whatever. Just making future plans with Charlie. Going to matches with Charlie. Me and my future husband Charlie.
Olly looked at Nick the way Charlie felt. “Yeah,” he half-whispered. “That would be amazing.”
“We’ll make it happen,” grinned Nick. Charlie swallowed a laugh when Nick turned and jumped, seeing Tori at his elbow.
Charlie made his way to the car with Olly as Nick and Tori spoke, giving Olly a giant hug.
“Thank you,” Olly murmured, buried in Charlie’s shirt.
“For what?” Charlie asked.
“For today,” Olly said, still pressing his face against Charlie’s chest. “This was the best day I’ve ever had.”
Charlie didn’t know if his heart was going to be able to take much more. He squeezed Olly tight. “We’ll do this again, okay? And we’ll go to a Badgers match, like Nick said.”
“I can’t wait,” Olly said, drawing back.
He got into the car as Tori approached, sidling up to Charlie. “So,” she said in her Tori way, the single word carrying more behind it than the simple syntax.
Charlie crossed his arms and grinned at her, not giving in. “So.”
“You’re staying here while they get rid of the lice or whatever at your place?”
“Woodworms,” Charlie corrected automatically.
“Sure,” said Tori.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Nick doesn’t seem too bothered to have you staying here.”
“He’s… what?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I’m glad Nick’s such a nice… friend.”
Charlie blushed. “He is. He is a nice friend.”
“Mm,” said Tori. “So you're not ready to tie the knot yet, then?’
Charlie’s blush deepened. “I’m not… he’s… I’m–”
Tori’s eyes flickered over to Nick, though her head was still pointing at Charlie. “I don’t think he’s straight.”
Charlie’s heart seized momentarily in his chest and he fought the urge to look at Nick. “I–”
“Just make sure he’s good to you,” said Tori crisply, already getting in the car. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” murmured Charlie back, his mind reeling. Tori had been there for hours and she was saying – that? He made his way back to the porch, looking up and meeting Nick’s gaze as he ascended the steps.
“All right?” asked Nick.
“Yeah, all right,” replied Charlie. I don’t think he’s straight. He glanced down at himself, muddied from the match. Charlie suddenly remembered that Elle, Tao, Darcy, and Tara would be there soon. God, they’d fit a lot into one day, hadn’t he and Nick? “I, uh - I should go get ready for tonight.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nick glanced down at himself, as if surprised to see he was dirty as well. A dirty, filthy boy. Charlie would love to get a dirty Nick very clean. Get it together, Spring. “Me, too.” Nick grinned at Charlie. “See you in a bit?”
“Yeah,” agreed Charlie. He let his eyes linger another moment on Nick, revelling in just what an incredible day it had been. Nick had fully welcomed Charlie’s family, and Charlie saw it on Olly’s face. It truly had been one of the best days of Olly’s life, which had been more challenging of late. Nick had chosen to do that, and he’s made another person’s life better as a result. Nick made everyone’s life better. “Thank you, Nick,” said Charlie softly. “For having my family and friends here. It…means a lot.”
Nick opened his mouth to respond, then paused. When he spoke, his voice sounded a little rough on the edges. “You’re…I’m so glad they came, Charlie. I love that you get to see them, and that I get to meet them. I really…I like meeting the people in your life.”
I want you to meet everyone in my life, Charlie thought desperately. I want you to be my life. “I like that, too,” he said quietly. Yet another moment passed between them, words fighting to spill out of Charlie. It scared him, honestly. He wanted to tell Nick how he felt, his body feeling almost desperate to talk to Nick about it. Not yet though, Charlie told himself. Tonight. When we’re alone. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Charlie dragged himself away, despite everything in his body wanting to stay with Nick. Tonight, he told himself once again. Tonight.
-
Charlie spent his shower fretting over what he might say to Nick that night. Any way he spun it, there was no way he could think of starting a conversation about… them… where it didn’t sound like he was a child writing a letter.
Dear Nick,
How are you? I am fine. How is the family? I just wanted to tell you that I am completely and pathetically in love with you and I wanted to know if you want to be in love with me, too. Please check yes or no.
Sincerely,
Charlie Spring, Year Six
Nothing more useful than that had entered his brain by the time he was dressed and downstairs, thoughts then occupied as his other friends started arriving. Elle and Tao were there first, and Charlie laughed in delight to discover that Nick had installed Harriet as a plant, feeding her lines that would draw Tao into conversation. It worked brilliantly, and Elle giggled with Nick as she watched Tao and Harriet go head to head, debating the merits of Mexican filmmaking. It only got better when Danny introduced himself to Tao, drawing him into a bear-hug. Charlie snorted at the look of sheer terror that he could see on Tao’s face before he was buried in Danny’s broad chest.
Charlie went to join Elle and Nick, grinning and looking at his phone. “Thirty four seconds before Tao was figuratively and literally embraced by the rugby lads. Even better than I expected.”
Nick grinned and Elle laughed again. “I should go join,” she muttered, looking at her husband chatting with Harriet and Danny.
“To help Tao?” Nick asked.
“God, no,” Elle scoffed. “To save Harriet.”
Charlie and Nick laughed, watching as Elle made her way over and Harriet introduced herself with evident relief. Nick nudged gently against Charlie. “Do you want to go over to join them as well?”
“Nah,” said Charlie, smiling at Nick as Tex barreled over to join them, replete with his enthusiastic Pixar recommendations. “They seem like they’re doing fine on their own to start.”
They really did. Charlie had been apprehensive about Elle and Tao mingling with the Badgers (well, Tao, at least), though that apprehension had been lost in the avalanche of other apprehension – chiefly talking to Nick later that night. It turned out that he needn’t have worried at all. Elle was her magnetic and welcoming self, engaging everyone in conversation. Tao was shuttled from player to player, all of them welcoming him enthusiastically with Tao looking deeply and increasingly befuddled to be warmly embraced among rugby lads. Charlie meant to go join Tao and the others, but he just… stayed with Nick. That was all Charlie wanted to do. He just wanted to stay with Nick. Now, then, forever.
They did step away to chat with their other friends, though, too, and Charlie found himself listening to a conversation flowing between Seamus, Tao, and Elle. It turned out that all three loved cooking and were exchanging recipe recommendations. Charlie even chimed in a few times, offering insights that he was amazed to possess after months in a kitchen with Nick. He looked up a few moments later, surprised to see Darcy and Tara in conversation with Nick. He hadn’t even seen the two women come in, and Charlie hurried over to say hello.
Charlie stopped in his tracks when he saw Nick and Tara standing with their hands on each other’s shoulders, both of them looking wide-eyed and excited. Charlie stood next to Darcy, who squealed and threw an arm round Charlie’s shoulders as they both took in the baffling scene in front of them, Nick and Tara seeming already familiar.
“Uh – do you two know each other?” asked Charlie, breaking in on Nick and Tara’s exuberant greetings.
“We do!” said Nick, grinning at Charlie in the way that made his blood feel like it was percolating. “We went to the same primary school!”
Charlie’s jaw dropped open as he looked to Tara for confirmation. “Until we were eleven,” she nodded, smiling at Charlie and then at Nick. “Then Nick went off to his fancy rugby school and we totally lost touch.”
Charlie shook his head in amazement. How the fuck had that happened? He’d been admittedly a little cagey about telling Tara and Darcy (well, Darcy, but telling Tara things were telling Darcy by extension) too much about Nick. There was just too much potential for meddling with those two. “What are the odds of that?” Charlie wondered aloud rhetorically. He looked at Nick. “Did you know each other well?”
Nick chuckled. “We did! We were in the same friend group for most of primary. Then, alas…” He sighed dramatically. “Tara forsook me.”
“Ohhhhhh,” said Darcy, smirking. “So you were friends, or friends friends?” Danny squealed and bounced on his toes, imitating Darcy’s expression and making Charlie, Tara, and Nick all laugh.
“We did date at age eleven, for the entirety of three days.” said Tara, still giggling. “Nick passed me a note – well, actually, he had Christian pass me a note–”
“–Very well done, Nicky, that is the way to impress a lady,” said Danny approvingly.
“And Tara said yes to being my girlfriend,” confirmed Nick with a laugh. “So then naturally we stopped talking for those days and I tried to hold her hand on the bus and she ran away.”
“Guess it was a sign of things to come, yeah?” said Tara, jumping a little when Darcy squeezed her bum. “Yeah, ‘dating’ Nick was one of the things that helped me realise I don’t like dating guys.”
Nick looked bemused, though he was grinning. “Uh, happy to… help?” Charlie giggled, Nick throwing him a glowing look that trickled down Charlie’s spine.
Darcy looked around at all of them, her eyes bright and mischievous. “We’ve been here over three minutes and have taken shockingly few shots.”
Danny beamed and wrapped an arm around Darcy. “I knew I liked you.”
Charlie followed them, not entirely confident that a drink mixed by Danny Turner and Darcy Olssen would pass Health and Safety criteria. “I can’t believe that Tara shagged Nick,” Darcy said while laughing, beelining for the counter, adding ingredients to a shaker.
“Me neither,” exclaimed Danny, budging up beside her and shoving more bottles in her direction, Darcy eagerly adding them to the mix.
“They were eleven,” Charlie interrupted, both amused and horrified as Darcy and Danny added to the witch’s brew.
“Shagged, held hands, same difference,” Darcy shrugged, accepting another bottle from Danny without actually looking at it. She looked at Charlie, her eyes widening with scandalised delight. “Hmm. Charlie Spring. Am I understanding now why the date with Steven did not work out?”
“Date?! Steven? Who is he? I hate him. Who’s Steven? Besides being a person I hate,” Danny demanded, turning to look at Charlie.
“We need more booze,” Charlie said loudly, thrusting another bottle at Danny and Darcy. They cheered and took it, shaking the mixed poison and pouring it into shot glasses. The three of them made their way to the parlour, Darcy pushing the glasses into everyone’s hands.
“May we get what we want, need, and never what we deserve!” she announced, making Nick and the others laugh.
Charlie saw Nick wince after he took his shot, coughing a little. “Jesus,” he wheezed. “What was that, pure ethanol?”
Darcy batted her eyes. “With sugar mixed in.”
Charlie nudged Nick’s shoulder, lowering his voice. “Just edge away before she makes you do another,” he muttered.
Nick laughed and put his hand on Charlie’s back, the way he often did. The way that made Charlie feel as though he was flying, toes skimming the ground. Though this time, Nick’s hand rubbed Charlie’s back, gentle and strong. Charlie looked up in wonder at Nick, unable to stop himself, and Nick blushed, taking his hand away and pushing it through his hair in a criminally attractive move.
Nick met Charlie’s gaze and then dropped his eyes. “I – uh… sorry.”
Be brave, Charlie. He steeled himself. “Don’t be,” he said quietly. Nick’s head whipped up and he looked at Charlie again, his eyes intense. The sound of the room disappeared and Charlie felt like the edges of his vision were dimming. All he could see was Nick. Nick, in front of him. Nick, close to him. Nick, searching Charlie’s eyes like there might be an answer there. The air crackled again and Charlie’s stomach squeezed up and against his spine. He and Nick were–
There was a burst of excited yelling, and Charlie looked around, dazed. He gathered that Darcy and Tara just found out about Danny and James getting engaged and were absolutely delighted. Darcy insisted on more shots to celebrate the en-GAY-gement, and the night got hazier as it went on. Or rather, everything around Charlie and Nick seemed to get hazier, as if all Charlie could see clearly was Nick. All evening they were close together, with little electric touches passing between them. Charlie kept feeling little thrills of nerves and anticipation, imagining the two of them in a bedroom – their bedroom – in a few hours. In a few hours, it would just be them seeing each other. Just them, with no one else around.
Just them.
The time drew nearer to midnight, and Charlie was struck by a sudden thought. Midnight. He felt ridiculous in that he hadn’t even considered that midnight could actually mean something. At midnight on New Year’s Eve, people kissed. Before this exact moment, Charlie had never even considered that there was even the tiniest sliver of a chance that he could kiss someone at midnight. And the chance that the person he might kiss was Nick Nelson was so tiny it could have fit into a fly’s arsecrack.
As the clock ticked on, Charlie started to realise that everyone had pulled into groups, mostly couples. His heart raced as he glanced around at Regan and Tex, Amy and Seamus (of course), Danny and James, Elle and Tao, Darcy and Tara. He and Nick were standing close to each other as well, a little away from everyone. It was 23:59, and Charlie felt dizzy from the drink and the staggering wonder of what could happen.
Would Nick want to kiss him? Did Nick want to kiss him, and he could use midnight as a cover for kissing Charlie in a more casual way? God, Charlie hoped that was the case. Charlie rolled his lips together and frantically ran his tongue over them to see if they felt dry.
What if Nick kissed him?
Charlie’s thoughts were tumbling in his head as the timer on the screen counted down. Only 20 seconds to go. He was rattled out of his anxious brain when Nick grinned at him, Charlie feeling the bright beam of the look on his face. He smiled back and Nick stepped closer, settling his arm round Charlie’s waist.
Oh my god.
This might happen.
This could actually fucking happen.
This was going to happen and then talking together would be so much easier because they would have to talk. It wouldn’t be Charlie bringing up the talk, it would be them talking through what happened. If it happened. Oh, god, please let this happen.
Charlie hesitantly wrapped his arm around Nick’s waist, too, trying not to curl his fingers in and glue himself to Nick’s side.
“It’s starting!” yelled Danny, pointing at the TV.
Ten
Charlie felt Nick’s eyes on him again and his heart picked up speed. Oh god. Oh god, it was nearly midnight. It was nearly midnight and Charlie was here with Nick, their bodies close.
Nine
Nick moved just perceptibly, pulling Charlie tighter as if Charlie had willed it. He tucked himself more closely to Nick’s side and breathed in the delicious smell that was so essentially Nick.
Eight
Charlie turned to look at Nick, and Nick smiled down at him. They shifted from standing side by side to facing one another and Nick slid his hands around Charlie’s back, his hands pressing against Charlie’s low back in a way that he’d hungered for for months.
Seven
oh god oh god oh god oh god Nick was looking at him and oh god this could be real and what if it happened oh god what if Nick’s lips were on his in just a few seconds and oh god was this what it felt like to have the most incredible moment in your life
Six
Charlie ran his teeth over his lip again, checking for any dry skin. Still nothing, thank god. Charlie saw Nick’s eyes drop to his lips and Charlie swallowed, his mouth watering.
Five
Nick moved closer. Charlie’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his arms, resting them on Nick’s shoulders. It was like they were dancing, their bodies holding one another in a silent, frozen moment.
Four
Was Charlie imagining it, or had they moved closer together? Nick filled up his vision. Charlie distantly wondered if he should be worried as the world had stopped spinning entirely. That had to be bad for the environment. Or something. Whatever. Nothing mattered except Nick. Nick, who was mouth-wateringly close.
Three
Charlie saw Nick’s throat work and the movement made him desperately glad he had something to clutch onto. Oh god, that throat. That mouth. This man. This fucking man.
Two
Charlie tried to keep his eyes on Nick’s, but he couldn’t stop drinking in every feature of the person in front of him. The person who had shown him that he could be whole again. The person who’d helped him discover who Charlie was again. The person who had made Charlie believe that he deserved more than he was getting. The person, who in a literal instant, might change Charlie’s world forever.
One.
Notes:
I recently had some friends over for dinner and asked another friend for a recipe idea. She gave me this one and it went over *so* well. I don’t always love salmon so I doubled the recipe and made one batch with salmon and one with chicken, following all of the same directions. From https://cupofjo.com/2023/03/29/salmon-tempura-crunch-bowls/
Buttery Brown Rice
1 1/2 cups brown rice (or just use frozen rice)
2 tablespoons butter
Kosher saltCrusted Salmon (or chicken!)
1 1/2 pounds salmon, skin on or off
Kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon ginger powder
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 to 2 tablespoons sriracha
2 tablespoons sesame oil, divided
1 tablespoon maple syrup or brown sugar (I used brown sugar)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup panko breadcrumbs
3 tablespoons sesame seedsGreens and Things
1 bunch cilantro, divided (I did not use this because cilantro is a vile scourge upon the earth and should be destroyed with the fire of a thousand suns)
5 ounces mixed greens
1/2 English cucumber, cut in half then thinly sliced into half moons
Juice of 1 large lime
2 tablespoons sesame oil
Optional additions: thinly sliced apple or persimmon, thinly sliced fennel or red onion, thinly sliced scallions, peanuts, avocadoSriracha Mayo
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 to 2 tablespoons sriracha
Juice of 1/2 limeBring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add brown rice and boil it just like pasta until tender, about 40 minutes. Drain, then return the rice to the pot and stir in butter and a big pinch of salt.
While the rice is cooking, preheat your oven to 400°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
Sprinkle the salmon with 1 teaspoon kosher salt, garlic powder, and ginger powder, then rub with soy sauce, sriracha (1-2 tablespoons), 1 tablespoon sesame oil, and maple syrup or brown sugar. If your salmon has skin, place it skin-side down on the parchment-lined baking sheet.
In a medium bowl, melt butter in the microwave. Add 1 tablespoon sesame oil, panko breadcrumbs, sesame seeds, and a big pinch of salt. If you can stomach its disgustingness, chop up 1 bunch of cilantro. Separate 1/3 cup of the chopped cilantro, finely dice it, and add it to the panko. Set the rest of the chopped cilantro aside for the salad. If you are a rational and loving human, omit the cilantro. Stir the breadcrumb mixture until all is well combined and the panko is coated in butter and oil.
Spread the breadcrumbs over the top of the salmon. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, until the salmon easily flakes when you prod at it with a fork.
While the salmon is cooking, make the greens and sriracha mayo. Put 5 ounces mixed greens into a large bowl along with the rest of the chopped cilantro (gross) and your cucumber moons. Add the juice of a large lime, sesame oil, and a big pinch of salt. Toss and taste and adjust as needed.
Stir together 1/2 cup mayo (I used light mayo and it was fine), 1 to 2 tablespoons sriracha, the juice of 1/2 lime, and a small pinch of salt. Taste and add more sriracha if you want it spicier.
Then set everything out (the buttery brown rice, salmon, bowl of dressed greens, sriracha mayo, and any optional additions) and build a bowl!
Chapter 48: Charlie's POV: Midnight
Summary:
It’s midnight at Lavender Fields. It's too bad that Nick only likes Charlie as a friend.
Notes:
I had a brutal, knock-down fight with ao3 the other night putting links to songbird3724’s gorgeous podfic “Excerpts from Lavender Fields” in the notes of each chapter. I emerged bloodied but victorious and it was SO WORTH IT. If you have not checked out this truly amazing work, songbird is going through and recording some chapters/moments from Lavender Fields and it is life-altering. AND one of those chapters happens to be this one from Nick’s POV!
A thousand inappropriate hand-kisses and “m’lady” murmurs to waveofyou. Sometimes it is borderline annoying that you can be this funny AND talented AND pretty AND kind, but somehow, we muddle through.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie felt like he was in one of those ridiculous Hallmark movies where the only focus was on the scene immediately in front of him, everything in the periphery blurry on the edges. He distantly heard the chorus of “Happy New Year!” ringing out around them, but Charlie could only focus on Nick. Nick’s face was almost dangerously close, so close that Charlie could see the tiny grooves and ridges on his perfect, soft-looking lips.
Charlie’s arms were around Nick’s neck. Nick’s hands were holding Charlie by the waist. They were so close and Charlie’s every sense was filled with Nick. He could feel their chests bumping together, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward just a tiny bit more. Charlie truly couldn’t stop himself from pressing fractionally closer to Nick, his desire to feel Nick’s mouth on his almost uncontrollable. Charlie breathed deeply and firmly controlled himself. Kissing – kissing Charlie – that had to be something that Nick wanted, too. He took another shaky inhale and looked at Nick’s face again, searching for a sign that this was something that he felt the same way about.
Charlie’s heart seized in his chest when he saw Nick’s expression. Nick was looking at him as the others kissed and celebrated, voices mingling in an indistinguishable murmur. Nick’s eyes were on Charlie, searching his face. Was this – was Nick looking for the same thing that Charlie was? Was he also searching for a sign that Charlie wanted this?
And did Charlie want this? Well, yes, of mother-fucking- course he did, but did he want it… like this? Did Charlie want to kiss Nick for the first time (and god, hopefully not the last) in front of their mates, on New Year’s? Did Charlie really want that? Charlie felt a crease of anxiety ripple through his mind, something that felt old and uncomfortably familiar. He remembered the sensations the first time he and Ben kissed. Ben had been absolutely smashed and it had been like that most of the time when they hooked up for the first few months – only doing it while drunk. Was Nick drunk? Did Charlie want Nick to kiss him only because he was drunk? No, but… but what if this broke the ice? What if this, like, turned into something? What if one kiss turned into another and then Charlie could feel what it was like when the world was warm and perfect? Did Charlie want the kiss he’d craved so long with Nick to be like this? Yes, right? Maybe. No? But yes, god, probably…
He was still arguing with himself when Nick’s face shifted, a small change in his features but a bigger shift in his energy. He leaned forward and Charlie’s temperature spiked, knees almost buckling as he waited for his entire world to change. Nick leaned close and then… turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to Charlie’s cheek, mouth lingering for a moment longer.
“Happy New Year, Charlie,” he said in a soft tone, his breath tickling Charlie’s neck.
Charlie swallowed back the wave of nausea that had swept through his stomach; a tide borne of surging hormones and deep, aching disappointment. There was his answer, he supposed. He had wanted that. He had wanted it so badly. “Happy New Year’s, Nick,” Charlie responded quietly, trying to keep the devastation out of his voice.
Nick pulled back and Charlie stepped a bit away too, wondering if he had misread everything. God, had he just been being an idiot, debating with himself if he wanted Nick to kiss him right then? Just assuming that Nick was going to, or that Nick even wanted to? Charlie had been thinking of it as something he might have a preference for when Nick might not even like him like that. Maybe Charlie had gotten everything wrong. Everything.
Nick looked at Charlie, his eyebrows drawn together. Charlie looked at Nick’s perfect, painfully gorgeous face as Nick gazed down at him with concern in his eyes. “I, um…” he began, taking a breath and looking over Charlie’s shoulder as if searching for the right words. Then his whole posture changed, chin drawing back into his chest in an expression of absolute shock. His eyes widened and Charlie saw his surprise shift to horror, Nick’s face draining of colour.
Charlie turned, confused and worried. He immediately saw what Nick’s eyes were trained on. Over Charlie’s shoulder and immediately in Nick’s line of sight, Amy and Seamus were kissing. Not kissing, actually. Snogging. As in – tongues-sometimes-visible, arms-wrapped-around-each-other, heavy-breathing snogging. Charlie pursed his lips, trying to look more surprised than he was. It had been incredibly clear that Amy and Seamus were hooking up, but Charlie hadn’t expected that they’d be quite so… open? (open-mouthed, at least) about it this time.
Charlie glanced back at Nick’s face to see him frozen as if carved out of stone. It was like he had just come downstairs on Christmas Eve to see his mum setting out presents instead of Father Christmas, so astonishing and world-changing was his astonishment. The rest of the group seemed to realise that something was happening, nudging each other and glancing at Seamus and Amy. Charlie could see Danny giggling and pressing his grin into James’s shoulder, James shaking his head in rueful amusement. In the falling silence, Amy and Seamus noticed that something had changed and they pulled apart, looking around before they saw Nick looking at them.
Seamus looked abashed, glancing at the rest of them and then at Nick, blushing. “Uh, hey, mate… We’ve been - meaning to talk to you.”
Charlie glanced at Nick again and had to press his hand against his mouth to swallow back a laugh. Now Nick looked like he’d also seen Rudolph have an unfortunate run-in with a vehicle, all of his innocence gone. Amy tilted her head and stepped towards Nick, holding up her hands like he was a spooked horse. “I know this is probably a little surprising to see,” she said. “You’re not mad, are you?” Amy put her hands on her hips and looked at Nick, head still cocked. “It would be ridiculous to be mad, but I know this is not what you expected to see tonight, and I know…”
In Nick’s continued staggered silence, Charlie couldn’t suppress his giggle anymore, forcing it through his nose instead of laughing aloud. He could only imagine that if this was Nick’s reaction from seeing his friends snog, Nick might actually experience the first human version of the “blue screen of death” that plagued early 2000s-computers to learn that they’d most likely also shagged.
Amy looked at Seamus, then Nick again, waving her hand in front of his face as he stood there unmoving. She shrugged and turned to Seamus. “Can we just leave? I don’t know how long it takes to reboot a Nick Nelson.”
Now Charlie fully lost control, his shoulders shaking as he giggled aloud. Nick blinked as if he’d had a hard reset and finally spoke, pointing first at Seamus and then Amy. “You… and you…” He trailed off again, seemingly stumped by the situation in front of him. “Was this just - did this just happen? Tonight? You just had, like, a New Year’s snog and got overly excited?”
Seamus winced in apology as Amy gave a fake, kindergarten-style grin that did nothing to stop Charlie’s amusement. “It’s been a bit longer than that, mate,” said Seamus.
“How long?!”
“A week,” said Amy, wide-eyed in innocence. Charlie snorted and Amy shot him a look of half-murder, half-mirth. Danny caught Charlie’s eye and winked, looking utterly delighted.
Seamus tilted his head at Amy. “Ames.”
Charlie grinned a little at the nickname. Poor, sweet Nick. He wasn’t ready to hear a term of endearment, Charlie guessed. Though maybe this was good. Exposure therapy or something like that.
Amy shifted her eyes to look at Seamus, then back at Nick. “A… month?”
“Bullshit,” Tex muttered, making Regan giggle as she caught Charlie’s eye. Everyone (besides Nick) looked like Christmas had come back round again just a week later. Nick, on the other hand, looked like he had been told that there would be no more holidays ever. Or puppies. Or potatoes.
Nick’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked around at all of them, an expression of dawning comprehension on his face. His mouth dropped open and he swung around to look at all of them. “Did you lot all know!?”
There was a silence so pregnant an elephant might have given birth in its duration. Danny took a long drag on an imaginary cigarette, waving his other hand philosophically in the air. “I mean, what does it mean to know something?”
Amy pressed her lips and crossed her arms. “Okay, it’s been six months,” she said in one quick burst, earning a glowing look from Seamus. Charlie laughed again quietly. Of course they’d been dating for months. Amy hadn’t actually confirmed it when the two of them had spoken, but she hadn’t denied it, either.
“A… a half a year?!” squeaked Nick, his voice going adorably high. He turned and looked at Charlie as though Charlie might be able to explain all of the evil scary snogging away. “And you didn’t - I didn’t – we – you – when – how?!”
“I’ll take those one at a time, Nicky,” said Amy. “We did. No, you didn’t notice, you cluelessly wonderful little badger baby, but please never change that about you; it’s literally part of your brand. We have been hooking up - sorry, dating,” Amy interrupted herself, looking at Seamus. He grinned, clearly pleased at the amendment. “We’ve been dating for six months. It happened over the summer. We met up in Sale when I was there to see a friend and it was…” She reddened a bit and Charlie grinned. He loved to see her a bit off-kilter instead of her normal, unruffled and no-nonsense persona. “It was great. We’ve been seeing each other since. Didn’t you wonder about all of the weekend trips I was taking?”
“But that’s just because - well, you like travelling!” exclaimed Nick, like he could make it all true by being emphatic enough. “And you always said it was so much easier here than it was in Canada because it was so much easier to get around without a car and…” He trailed off, looking utterly nonplussed. “I thought you just liked trains.”
There was a brief silence in which Charlie wondered if it was possible to explode from not laughing. Fortunately, Danny broke first, breaking off into a high giggle that set them all off. Even Nick grinned, his ears bright pink.
“Trains,” Nick muttered, closing his eyes and slapping himself on the forehead before shaking his head in clear defeat. “Fuck me.”
God, I wish, Charlie thought desperately, even as he laughed. The whole Amy and Seamus thing had taken the sting out of what happened earlier a bit, and he was at least comforted by the fact that no matter what he and Nick were to each other, they always had fun with one another. Not that it soothed Charlie’s aching heart about not kissing Nick earlier, though.
“So,” interjected Amy as everyone finally stopped laughing. She was looking at Nick, and Charlie could see the vulnerability under the bravado. “Are you, like - are you okay with this?” She and Seamus both looked at Nick with adorable concern.
Nick visibly softened. “Oh, god, of course I am.” He and Amy embraced, then Seamus grinned and piled on, hugging both of them. Charlie didn’t miss the little squeeze of Amy’s bum that Seamus added in, but fortunately Nick did. Charlie wasn’t sure that Nick could take any more. God, if Nick found out that his mum had also engaged in non-procreative sexual intercourse at some point in her life he might just dissolve into the ether. “I mean, it is disgusting,” Nick clarified as they all separated. “But if you two are happy, that’s great.”
“It is great,” Seamus said with a grin, tucking his arm around Amy. “The distance thing sucks, but I’ve probably only got a season or so more in me, and who knows where I’ll go after that. We’ve gotten lucky with matches and bye weeks matching up too this season, so it hasn’t been too bad.”
Amy looked up at him and nodded with a smile on her face. “Yeah, that has been a bummer. It would have been so much easier if we had admitted how we both felt when Shea was on the Badgers. But then again, I had just broken up with Caden and Shea was still with Kate for a lot of that last season…”
“Kate! I miss her,” Danny interrupted, raising a snort out of Amy and a cocked eyebrow from James. “I should go to a rice cake convention so I can find her and we can catch up.”
“Oi,” said Seamus, but he was laughing. Charlie wasn’t really following – he guessed Kate was an ex of Seamus’s? – but his mind was more focused on the whole idea of “distance”. With the whole woodworm fiasco/blessing, he’d gone right back to blissful, happy ignorance. Charlie hadn’t thought of when he’d have to return to London again, and there was a pit in his stomach when he thought about what that would look like. He forced himself back to the present, where Amy was likely traumatising Nick by pressing herself against Seamus.
“Honestly, the distance thing is kind of fun sometimes, too,” she said, turning to her boyfriend. “Remember a few weeks ago when–”
“Nope,” said Nick, shaking his head. “Nope, nope, nope.” Charlie snorted as Nick cast about wildly, his eyes haunted. “JAMES,” he bellowed, making most of the room jump. “TIME TO PLAY THE PIANO AGAIN, I THINK YOU SHOULD PLAY A VERY LOUD SONG.”
Charlie laughed loud and long as James made his way over to the piano, throwing a wink at Nick before he sat down. James started playing a Vanessa Carlton song that made Danny yell in delight while everyone else started talking again. Charlie glanced over at his friends, who were mixed with Nick’s. Everyone was laughing and happy, and Charlie turned back to Nick. Oh, that sweet, naive, perfect little host. Nick was still gazing at Amy and Seamus like he was trying to will himself into it making sense. Charlie nudged Nick’s shoulder with his own, forcing down yet another laugh at the clubbed expression on Nick’s face.
Nick held up a finger in warning, but he was laughing before he even started to talk. “Just… don’t,” he said, the sternness completely delegitimised by his giggles.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Charlie protested, laughing.
“Charles Mariah Stewart slash Carey Spring, I know exactly what you were about to say.”
Charlie shouted out a syllable of laughter. He hoped that Nick never learned his real middle name and just gave him new ones forever. The silly familiarity was one of Charlie’s favourite them things. “That is a new one and I love it almost as much as I hate it.”
Nick heaved a deep, over-dramatic sigh and folded in on himself, hiding in Charlie’s chest. “Oh my god, Charlie. I had no fucking idea.”
Charlie laughed, his body warm with the amusement but also with Nick being so close to him. Again. He tried to keep it light and airy, back to them being friends. Friends. Friends, right? God, Charlie would have to talk to Nick. Though that sounded scary and terrible. Scarible. Oh god. Nick was rubbing off on him. “There, there,” Charlie said, soothing Nick theatrically and petting his hair. “I know it’s hard to be the last one in the room to know.”
Nick stilled and then pulled back, running his fingers through his hair in an act that always did bathing-suit area things to Charlie. Great. After earlier, Charlie did not need bathing suit area things happening. “The last one in the room…” Nick repeated, eyebrows creasing. He paused, looking at Charlie with accusatory suspicion. “Did you know?”
“No!” Charlie protested through a laugh, those his eyes stayed on Nick’s fingers trailing through his hair. God, Charlie wished he could be the one tangling his fingers in those locks. He had to stop himself from reaching out to smooth down a few stray pieces. “Well, not officially. But, like, Nick…didn’t you even have some sense that, like…maybe they were hooking up?”
Nick looked at Charlie incredulously. “Did you?”
“Of course,” said Charlie, shaking his head in gentle amusement at the staggeringly smart but also impressively thick man in front of him. “Don’t you remember a few months ago where Danny made some joke about ‘Seamus on Amy’?”
Nick pulled a face as if trying to remember, then his face cleared. “Oh. Oh! No, Charlie, he said something about 'shame on Amy’.”
Charlie pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “Oh, Nick. He said ‘Seam on Amy’, like short for Seamus.”
Nick’s eyes widened and his face paled a bit. “Oh my god,” he breathed, the last vestiges of his world clearly crumbling. Well, Charlie might as well bring in the bulldozer and raze it all to the ground now.
“And…” said Charlie, fighting hard to keep the laugh out of his voice. Truly, Nick was brilliant. Was it pure gritted determination that kept him from seeing what was amazingly obvious? “Did you not wonder why Seamus’s bed always looked perfectly made? I sincerely doubt that he’s slept in it any of the times they’ve both been here.”
Nick stared at Charlie in dismay for a moment before dropping his head to Charlie’s shoulder, bonking his forehead against the bone. “I just thought he was neat,” Nick said, voice muffled. “I thought he just really cared about re-making his bed in the mornings.”
Charlie laughed, though his heart was racing again to have Nick so close to him. So close to him again. Maybe – fuck, maybe Charlie hadn’t misread how Nick felt? God, this whole thing was such a mindfuck. He shook his head to clear it and patted Nick on the back, leaning back into the lightness. “Trains. Beds. Oh, Nick. You amazing, clueless rugby king.”
Nick laughed and the two of them giggled with each other for a few minutes before rejoining the rest of the group. They spent time with everybody, joking and talking… well, sort of. They were with their friends, but never apart. No matter what, Charlie felt like he and Nick were drawn together over the course of the night, again and again. He wondered at first if it was just him – maybe he was subconsciously the one always drifting towards Nick, the tag-along.
Charlie tried a couple small experiments, forcing himself to walk away from Nick and not make his way back. Yet every time he did, he and Nick always ended up back together, Nick drifting back towards him, or someone calling him over to join Nick in a drinking game. When they stood next to each other, Nick would sometimes slip an arm around his shoulder, or grasp his upper arm warmly and give it a squeeze. In one stomach-swooping moment, Nick even wrapped his arm around Charlie’s lower back, sending a wave of giddy heat pooling in Charlie’s low belly and making him blush and feel warm.
As the night went on, the group got drunker, with Danny and Darcy inventing several new games and shots, to mixed success. Charlie paced himself, wanting his head to be clear. He hadn’t fully processed that he would be sharing a room with Nick tonight. A room. Charlie would be sharing a bedroom with Nick this evening. Amy had rattled off how to separate the beds to him earlier that day after her stomach issue the night before, but had said that she and Danny would take care of it earlier that afternoon.
The clock ticked on towards two in the morning. Despite having barely slept the night before, Charlie didn’t feel tired. Instead, he felt jittery and alert, realising with every passing minute that he was closer to sharing a room with Nick. What – what would he say? Should Charlie say anything? Ask anything? Have a conversation about anything? It truly, truly felt like Nick was going to kiss him earlier. It felt like Nick wanted to kiss him earlier.
But he hadn’t.
He hadn’t.
He hadn’t, and Charlie sighed to himself, reminding himself of the bullet points he’d written in his journal the night before. In the intensity of the moment earlier, he’d forgotten what he knew was undeniable: even if Nick had wanted to kiss him, he wouldn’t have done so without knowing how Charlie felt, first. And Nick wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Those two things together meant one thing – that Charlie would have to talk to Nick. He would have to bring it up, because he knew that Nick would worry about making Charlie uncomfortable by raising any questions. Charlie would have to bring it up. Charlie would have to talk to Nick. Charlie would have to do it.
Charlie would do it tomorrow. Tomorrow night was better. Yeah, that was much better. That way, they wouldn’t have an awkward two nights if it went horribly, just one awkward night. 50% reduction in awkwardness. That was a heavy discount.
Charlie would talk to Nick tomorrow.
-
That all promptly flew out the window half an hour later. Charlie was the first to go up to his room – their room – around two in the morning as Nick got Darcy and Tara set up in the caravan. Charlie had planned to take advantage of that time, both so he could quickly neaten the room again (though he’d done that several times anxiously earlier in the day) and perform his ablutions without Nick overhearing. Nick of course wouldn’t mind, but Charlie didn’t want to – well, he wanted to maintain the charade of not having bodily functions at least for a while longer.
Charlie dashed into the room and then the en-suite without even turning on the light as he’d stowed some clothes there earlier, not sure if he and Nick would go up at the same time. Charlie got dressed for bed, sleeping in far more clothing than he normally did. For some reason, the added layers made him feel more secure, more safe. It wasn’t as if he felt unsafe with Nick – quite the opposite – but the clothing made him feel as though he was wrapped in another layer of comfort. Charlie finished washing his face and his other pre-bedtime activities and then turned off the bathroom light. He opened the door and went to cross the room to turn on the bedroom light when the moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated the room enough for everything to be just visible. Charlie could see the dresser, neat and orderly. He could see the cosy chair that he worked from and sometimes curled up to read in. More than anything, Charlie could see the moonlight dappling patterns of leaves and branches against the bed.
The bed.
As in, the one bed. The single, one, unseparated bed. Charlie stared at it, flummoxed. Amy said she and Danny were going to separate it earlier. They had even gone upstairs to do it, saying they’d be right back. Charlie walked over on wobbly legs and gave it a tentative push, thinking maybe the two halves were pushed together and he just needed to pull them apart, despite the flawed logic that there was still only one duvet on top.
Nope.
Charlie stood back up, paced in a numb circle, sat back down. He then stood up again, walking towards the door. Should he get Amy? No, she and Seamus had just come out (as it were) to their friends and were probably having sloppy sex that would psychologically devastate Nick if he knew it was happening. She had told him how it worked, though it had sounded really confusing. Amy described all sorts of steps and mentioned how easy it was to snap the bed on your fingers if you weren’t careful, which Charlie wasn’t keen on. He started pacing again, brain and heart racing.
What the fuck should he do? Maybe – maybe Nick would know. Yeah, of course Nick would know how to separate the beds. Nick would be able to do it and then they could sleep in separate beds. Just like it should be.
But Charlie didn’t want it to be like that.
Charlie didn’t want the beds separated. He wanted to feel Nick’s body around him like he had the night Ben arrived. This time, Charlie wanted that intimacy to come from a place of joy and desire instead of the need to be comforted. As Charlie sat numbly on the bed, he thought about what it would be like – to actually be like – to share a bed with Nick. He imagined rolling over and feeling Nick’s skin brushing his. He could almost feel the heat coming off Nick’s skin and how electric it would be to sleep next to the man who moved him like no other. Charlie could imagine breathing in the scent of Nick as he slid into bed, and Charlie got more and more overwhelmed.
Desperate, scorching thoughts burned across Charlie’s brain until he heard footsteps and then a light, hesitant knocking. Charlie looked over as Nick opened the door, his eyes looking at first at Charlie before drifting over towards the bed. The bed.
Charlie gestured helplessly at the mattress, wanting to make it clear that this was not his doing, suddenly and irrationally nervous Nick would think that Charlie set it up that way. “I didn’t know how to…”
“Oh.” Nick nodded, his face hard to read in the dim light as he hovered near the entry of the room. “Yeah…”
“Amy told me how to,” Charlie said to fill the air, his skin tingling and all of his senses heightened. He felt as though he may burst with how many feelings were coursing through him. “But I wasn’t sure if I could move the bedframe myself, and I also didn’t want to make too much noise since most everyone is sleeping by now, I think.”
“No, I can do it,” said Nick, clearing his throat and dropping something to the floor with a thump. He sat down on the edge of the bed, hands bracing himself on the mattress.
Charlie took a shaky breath in. He needed to talk to Nick. Nick deserved to know how Charlie felt before sharing a bed with him. In the same way that Charlie guessed Nick would never want to make him uncomfortable, he’d never want to make Nick uncomfortable, ever. Nick ought to know that he was getting into a bed with a person who was attracted to him. It almost felt like… like a betrayal not to say something. Charlie never wanted to put Nick in a compromising place. At least this way, Nick could have choice and agency if he didn’t feel the same way about Charlie. He could sleep on the floor, or Charlie could. Charlie had to do this. Nick deserved honesty.
Charlie sat down on the bed next to Nick. “Hi,” he said softly, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.
“Hi,” Nick replied, turning to look at Charlie..
Charlie closed his eyes, trying to will words to come to mind. He had been so overwhelmed by the bed situation that he’d not thought about this part at all. In fact, he’d told himself that this could happen tomorrow and not tonight. His brain was hot and crackly, thoughts crossing over one another. He took another breath and tried to remember how he and his therapist worked together when his thoughts felt overwhelming. Start with simple statements, he reminded himself. Start with something small that you know to be true.
What did Charlie know? He knew how he felt earlier in the night. He knew how his whole body felt when he and Nick were pressed chest to chest, their lips inches apart as the countdown ticked on. Start there, Charlie.
“Earlier, after the countdown,” Charlie started, a clear wobble in his voice. “You — you kissed me on the cheek.”
“Yeah,” said Nick, voice breathy and tinged with what could have been nerves.
You can do this, Charlie, he told himself as his own belly crackled with nerves too. You can be the person that Nick sees you as. You can be brave. “I didn’t want that,” Charlie managed to get out. He summoned up all of the courage he’d ever gleaned from himself, his friends, his family. He summoned up the courage that has been buried under years of Ben, hidden and weak. He gathered himself and all of his bravery, hands shaking.
“I wanted more.”
Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, his body trembling in terror and anticipation. He opened them again and looked at Nick, who breathed in sharply.
“You wanted…?” Nick repeated. Charlie was astonished by his tone. It was awe-struck, breathless, amazed. It sounded the same way Charlie felt when Nick had taken his hand. It felt… it felt the way Charlie felt about Nick.
This was it. This was how Charlie could understand what Nick wanted. Not by wondering and reading into clues. Not by puzzling scraps together the way he had with Ben. Charlie could ask. They could talk about this.
“Nick,” Charlie started again, gathering his courage once more. “Would you…” He paused and licked his lips, his mouth too dry. “Would you date someone who wasn’t a girl?”
In the moonlight, Charlie could see Nick’s face. Charlie could see Nick, looking at him. Charlie could see Nick looking at Charlie in the way that he’d seen in Tao’s pictures. “Yeah,” Nick breathed, and Charlie’s muscles all went slack at once.
Nick would date someone who wasn’t a girl. Nick might – Nick would date a man. Oh. Oh, god. Oh, god, this was… Charlie squeezed his hands into fists and released them, overwhelmed by everything happening. He took an unsteady breath, speaking quietly as if he might frighten the magic of the moment away. “Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl?”
“Yeah,” Nick said again, his eyes searching Charlie’s, not moving away. Their bodies were close, hands next to each other on the bed.
Charlie nearly whimpered, completely undone by the enormity of what was happening. He was willing himself to ask the question – the question that hung the world on its balance – when he felt a warm nudge on his little finger. He looked down to see Nick pressing his pinkie against Charlie’s and electricity sparked through his chest. Charlie looked down, then up at Nick, then down again. His hands and future trembling, Charlie wrapped his finger around Nick’s and heard Nick’s breath catch.
“Would you kiss me?”
The question swelled in the air, filling the room. This was it. It wasn’t hypothetical. It wasn’t guessing. It was Charlie, asking Nick for more.
“Yeah,” breathed Nick once again.
Charlie had never heard a more beautiful and unbelievable syllable in his life. He was about to ask Nick again, to confirm that the world was a more perfect place than he’d ever dreamed of when Nick shifted, moving his head and drawing closer to Charlie. Charlie instinctively moved at the same time, his heart beating so fast that he legitimately wondered if he might faint. Time seemed to lengthen to a honey-soaked slog, sweet and slow. Charlie closed his eyes just before his mouth met Nick’s, wondering if this was a dream.
If it was a dream, Charlie never wanted to wake up.
Their lips touched and Charlie’s entire body turned to liquid. He and Nick were kissing. He and Nick had kissed. Charlie had kissed Nicholas Nelson, who had wanted to kiss him. They drew back at the same time, their foreheads tilting together. Nick’s face was still so close and Charlie fought the urge to surge against Nick and press their bodies together. Nick had kissed him. They kissed and now they weren’t kissing, and every cell in Charlie’s body wanted to kiss Nick again. But was this – Charlie was seized by a sudden doubt, chilly terror dousing the happy warmth in his stomach. Was Nick just, like – trying this? Did he think he might like men and just wanted to experiment with someone safe? Did–
Charlie gasped when he felt Nick take his hand, interlacing their fingers. He looked at Nick, whose mouth was slightly open, his perfect lips still tantalisingly close. Now Charlie did surge forward, kissing Nick and tentatively raising a hand to rest on his neck. Charliee could feel the soft hairs under his fingers and it was all so soft: Nick’s lips, his breath, his hair.
Then it was harder, Nick gripping Charlie and pulling him in tightly. Their mouths were harder, and their hands were harder, in the most delicious way. How was this real? Charlie’s stomach was a roiling, delighted mess, sparkling and swirling. His blood was dancing through his veins, and Charlie had no idea if he’d be able to stand up if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to. Charlie wanted to stay here forever, breath mixing with Nick’s as they kissed. But Charlie… he knew this was new for Nick. He needed to check in, needed to see how Nick was doing. With monumental effort that should have earned him an OBE, Charlie drew back, half-melting again as Nick chased the last kiss, following Charlie’s lips.
Charlie kept his hand on the side of Nick’s neck, quivering with nerves and shocked delight. He breathed in to bring himself back to this moment and back to Nick, searching Nick’s face. “You okay?” Charlie asked.
Nick let out a shaky mixture of a breath and a laugh. He was looking at Charlie, that same world-melting expression on his face. “I…”
They both jumped when they heard Seamus calling out from the hallway.
“Nick, are you up here? Hey, mate, if you’re in there, I just wanted to ask–”
“We’re asleep!” Nick turned towards the door and half-shouted, Charlie jumping again.
“Oh. Uh, right,” came Seamus’s muffled voice, sounding apprehensive. “Sorry, lads. I’ll uh - I’ll catch up with you in the morning, Nelson!”
Nick let out a shaky sigh and Charlie laughed unsteadily. He only got more unsteady when Nick gently cupped his cheek. The sensation brought tears welling up in Charlie’s eyes, as ridiculous as that was. His touch was just so tender. Tender and fucking hot at the same time, somehow. Charlie sighed and closed his eyes. “Char…” Nick said softly, and Charlie’s spine lost all of its skeletal fortitude at once. And then – and then – Nick traced his thumb along Charlie’s cheekbone, the hottest thing that might have ever happened to Charlie. He couldn’t keep whimper from coming out this time. There was a quivering half-second before they kissed again, lips meeting in a hungry rush.
Charlie didn’t know how he was still upright at this point, with Nick’s hands on him and mouth on him and their bodies joined together like this. Nick tangled his fingers in Charlie’s hair and Charlie wondered how many steps there could possibly be on the staircase of incredible sexy hotness before he hit literal heaven. Charlie moaned this time, unable to hold back. That in turn seemed to make Nick groan, the sound bursting out of his throat and burrowing into Charlie’s soul. They were sitting upright, spines twisted as they kissed.
Charlie wasn’t nearly as close to Nick as he wanted to be, not with Nick making a sound like that. He moved to lay back on the bed and Nick followed him, but they were still at a strange angle. Charlie committed the incredible sacrifice of pausing a snog session with Nicholas Nelson to move fully only to bed, gently pulling Nick along by the arm. Nick chased him as he moved and they crashed back together, mouths hot against each other’s. Each movement of Nick’s body – his arms – his tongue – his hands… every one of them made Charlie even more deeply convinced that this was a dream, the sexiest dream of his life.
Nick wrapped himself closer around Charlie’s body, wriggling his arm under Charlie’s side to pull him closer, and Charlie wondered if there was enough blood left anywhere other than his genitals for oxygen to make it to his cells. God, this was fucking incredible. Charlie was anxious that he might wake up soon and discover that none of this was real. He tangled his fingers in Nick’s hair, and the loud moan that Nick let out made it clear that if this was a dream, there was a solid chance it was a wet dream. Charlie floated on a cloud of desire and giddy, disbelieving joy as he and Nick kept kissing, temperatures rising.
Charlie’s eyes fluttered open when Nick pulled away, though after he did, he stretched his neck long to leave another soft kiss on Charlie’s lips, preemptively chasing away Charlie’s worry before it took root. Charlie took several panting breaths, trying to bring himself back to earth. It didn’t fucking help when Nick reached over to touch Charlie’s neck, closing his eyes against the hot, sweet touch.
Charlie forced them open again. Nick was still touching him, yes, but he was also no longer kissing him. “You okay?” he asked again, genuinely needing to know the answer. Nick was – well, Charlie had to assume Nick had never kissed a boy before. A man. Charlie knew how world-lurchingly different it could be.
Nick laughed softly, a warm sound. “God, yes. I am so okay, Charlie.” Charlie’s heart swelled and he felt the corners of his lips inescapably tug upwards. He reached over to stroke against Charlie’s forehead. It was all so dizzying – every touch of Nick’s hands were soft, hot, sweet, protective, loving. Charlie had never been touched like this before. Then Nick looked concerned, eyebrows drawing together. “But… are you?”
Charlie was genuinely perplexed. “Am I…?”
“Are you okay?” repeated Nick. “With… this? With… us being, like…” Nick gestured between the two of them, their bodies close on the bed.
“Nick,” Charlie whispered incredulously. The question was so laughable that Charlie was struggling to even come up with the right words. “I am…” Charlie cut himself off as Nick reached over to toy with the hairs at the base of his neck. Who the fucking fuck is this man with perfect, gentle hands that I want to fucking ravage me and hold me at the same time? Charlie forced his eyes open, needing Nick to know just how okay he was. He needed Nick to know that this moment felt like the culmination of Charlie’s life, every single event leading to right now. “I’ve wanted this for months,” Charlie said.
“You’ve…” Nick’s tone had that same awestruck, wondering note as it had earlier.
“I’ve wanted this for months,” Charlie repeated, the words wrenching out of him as if expressing all of the pain of the last dozen weeks. “I just…god, Nick,” he said, shaking his head softly. “You’re so amazing.” Charlie’s voice broke on the last word, the wanting and desire of the last few months crashing over him in a wave.
Nick made a soft sound and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Charlie. It was truly everything Charlie wanted and had wished for. It was Nick, his body surrounding Charlie’s, and not because of something bad. It was because of something good. Nick pulled Charlie’s head onto his massive bicep and rubbed his back. The tenderness nearly broke Charlie again, and he pressed his lips together.
Nick deserved to know what he had done for Charlie, and how much light he’d brought into what had been a dull, grey world for too long. “You’re so kind, Nick,” Charlie managed to get out. “When I got here you were so kind and caring and lovely, and you were the friend I needed. You could have just been someone who kept an inn and I could have just been a customer.” He looked at Nick, needing Nick to understand how good he truly was. “You treated me like I was a friend. You treated me like I wasn’t… broken. I felt broken, Nick. I felt broken when I got here, like I was so broken and wrong that a fiance who cares so much about appearances was willing to cancel a wedding the night before. I was so embarrassed and ashamed and convinced that I was someone that people just, like… tolerated.”
The whole time Charlie spoke, Nick’s hands were on him: in his hair, on his neck, grazing his face Charlie had to breathe and focus to keep going. “But you, Nick…” Charlie took a breath that turned into a shaky sigh when Nick stroked his cheek with two fingers like a fairytale prince. An unproblematic, queer, fairytale prince. “You were so kind. Are so kind,” he corrected, both of them half-laughing through their noses. “You pay attention to the things I say and you remember them. You act like you care about what I say. You brought me places and spent time with me, even though you didn’t have to. We have so much fun together, too…” Charlie felt’s eyebrows drew together as he thought about how different his life felt. It had been a hollow grind for so long, isolated from the things that truly brought him joy.
“I felt like I hadn’t… I hadn’t had fun in ages. Not with someone that I was with,” Charlie said, pushing through the ache of lost years. He sighed and looked at Nick, returning himself to mind-blowing beauty of now, not the regret of then. “You’re fun and you’re kind and you’re so thoughtful,” he went on, tracing his fingers along Nick’s neck. He wasn’t used to getting to touch Ben like this, and it felt amazing to get to be affectionate like this. “And hate to be the one to tell you this, but you are fit as fuck.” Nick laughed loudly, then tried to stifle it, and Charlie giggled. He touched Nick’s massive arm, feeling Nick flex beneath his fingers. Charlie could not believe that this was real. “The idea of getting to kiss someone like you felt…impossible,” he said softly as he traced Nick’s muscles. It wasn’t even the muscles that felt so incredible. It was Nick. “Like, the idea of being with even a person like you felt impossible, but actually being with you - you felt even more impossible.”
Nick tilted his head curiously at Charlie. “I felt…?”
Charlie huffed, trying to explain what he meant. “Well, I had no idea how you felt,” he said. “Feel? I…” then paused. Say things, Charlie, he commanded himself. Ask things. Nick is safe. “I mean, you’re… I guess… I just assumed you were straight?”
Nick gave him that shy half-grin that dissolved the fascia around Charlie’s muscles, toying with Charlie’s hair with one hand and stroking his arm with the other. Charlie struggled to keep his eyes open. God, he loved how much Nick seemed to love touching.
“You and me both,” Nick said with a half-laugh. He pulled Charlie in close to his chest, gently rubbing circles on Charlie’s back. “I had no idea either at first. I had just always… I’d always assumed I was straight, yeah. I’ve only dated women in the past, I’ve only ever talked about having crushes on women with other people.” Nick pressed his lips to Charlie’s ear, making him shiver. “But then it was you, Charlie. You… god.” Nick kissed Charlie’s head and Charlie continued to question if this could be fucking real. “I met you, Charlie, and you changed literally everything for me.” Charlie blinked, unable to take this in. Charlie changed things for Nick? “Meeting you, like - set me down this path. I was having all of these feelings for you that I couldn’t explain. It’s like I had known the world one way, then I met you. Then I questioned literally everything – like, Charlie, everything.”
Charlie raised his chin and made an inquiring sound. He didn’t want Nick to ever stop talking. He both wanted to know so much more about Nick – and he’d never had someone say things like this. Not to Charlie. Nick took a breath and tucked Charlie close. “I just, like – looked back on my life and the things I had thought about and liked and all of that. I realised that I like more than just women.” Charlie’s breath caught in his chest. He knew this, but this was Nick telling him. He looked at Nick, who brushed back Charlie’s hair in an achingly perfect gesture. “I like… I like men, too,” said Nick. “I figured out that I’m bisexual.” Charlie couldn’t stop smiling. Nick was – this was fucking amazing to hear Nick comfortable enough to share his sexuality. Nick deserved to get to be his most authentic self.
Nick combed his fingers through Charlie’s hair, drifting his fingers down the side of Charlie’s face. “But mostly, Charlie,” he said, “I figured out that I like you.”
Charlie raised his head, more staggered now than he had been all evening, even while actively tongue-kissing Nick. “You… like me?”
Nick laughed, bright and joyous. “Uh, yeah,” he said, grinning at Charlie. “Wasn’t that obvious?” Charlie laughed aloud too, though he wanted to gently throttle Nick. No, it had not been obvious to Charlie. There was a pause and Nick cocked his head at Charlie. “...Do you like me?”
Charlie blinked, utterly nonplussed. Was this related to Nick’s deep-rooted romantic obliviousness previously limited only to Amy, Seamus, and his mum? “Yes, obviously,” Charlie snorted, shaking his head and giggling now. “I’ve liked you for months, Nick!”
Nick gaped at Charlie. “I’ve liked you for months!”
“Oh my god,” Charlie groaned and laughed, dropping his head on Nick’s chest. “Why are we like this?”
Nick laughed too, and that got them into a feedback loop of laughter, one of them setting the other off. Charlie felt incredibly light. Was this what it felt like to get everything that you ever wanted, all at once? It took a bit for them to calm down, and the whole time their bodies were touching. Charlie had never felt something like this – hot and fun and sweet. He closed his eyes and leaned against Nick’s broad chest, savouring every second.
Nick moved beneath him, hesitating. Charlie raised his head to see Nick’s hands poised on the hem of his jumper, but not moving. “All right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Nick, his face glowing as he smiled at Charlie. “God, I’m just so hot.”
“Yeah you are,” said Charlie before he could stop himself, then blushed so intensely it probably went down to his toes.
Nick snickered. “Charlie Spring. Are you flirting with me?”
Charlie fixed him with a look. “Nicholas Nelson, I have been flirting with you since the last calendar year.”
Nick snorted. “Okay, yes, that’s a fair dig. But, no, like, literally,” he said, gesturing to his jumper. “D’you – do you mind if I take this off?”
Do you mind if I disrobe in front of you, Charlie? Do you mind if I perform a literal fantasy of yours, live, without a door charge? Do you mind if I provide you with wank fuel for the rest of your natural life? “N-no,” Charlie managed to get out.
Nick was still waiting, hands hovering over the hem. “Are you sure?”
“Please take it the fuck off,” breathed Charlie.
Nick laughed and kissed Charlie’s forehead, then sat up. “Actually, I’ll just get in sleep clothes now, too. Sleeping in jeans sounds like a shit idea.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie, nodding breathlessly. Would Nick change in front of Charlie? Would Charlie get arrested for staring too lewdly? Would Charlie actually survive a semi-nude Nick?
Nick got up and gazed down at Charlie before kissing him again once, then again. No. No, Charlie would not survive a semi-nude Nick. He might not survive a fully clothed Nick who kissed him like that. Nick looked at him, biting one lip. Charlie wanted to bite one of those lips. “I - uh… do you want to get up?” Nick asked, and Charlie looked up in confusion. “So I can separate the beds?” Nick added in, and Charlie felt his stomach sink.
Charlie started to respond, hesitated, stopped. “Do… do you want to separate the beds?”
“No,” said Nick immediately, his turn to blush.
“Oh,” said Charlie, pressing his lips together to hide his stupidly giddy grin. “I don’t want you to do that, either.”
“Oh. Okay. Well. Yes. Good. Okay.” Charlie sniffed out a laugh at Nick’s silly babble. Nick waved vaguely at the en-suite door. “I’m going to…I’m going to go change, then,” he said.
He went into the bathroom and Charlie flopped back on the bed, smiling at the ceiling. This was… how the fuck was this real? How was he here with Nick? In bed with Nick? Kissing Nick? Charlie closed his eyes and replayed some of the moments through his brain on a loop. Nick, chasing a kiss from Charlie. Nick, drifting his fingers across Charlie’s cheek. Nick’s mouth pressed hot to his. Charlie’s eyes opened when Nick came out of the bathroom, clad only in soft mesh shorts.
Charlie fought to keep his reaction calm and controlled, but he was hugely unsuccessful. “Wow,” he breathed, eyes taking in every inch of Nick’s body. He wanted to take in every inch of Nick’s body. Okay, yeah, no, none of that before bed. He cleared his throat and looked away before he had to look back again. For science.
Nick grinned, looking down at himself in mild embarrassment. “I, uh… have you really not seen me shirtless?”
Charlie shook his head for a long, long time. “Nope. I would have, ah, remembered if I had.” This wasn’t entirely true. Had he Googled “shirtless Nick Nelson” photos? Of course. But had he seen him quite literally in the flesh? Absolutely not. Charlie buried his face in the pillows, sneaking a peek out every so often as Nick grinned.
Nick looked at Charlie, a modicum of concern on his face. “Well, I should have asked if you had a licence first, you know.”
Charlie turned his head and sat back up. “What?”
Nick flexed his arms in front of him. “To see the firearms I’m packing.”
Charlie laughed and fell back on the bed while clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, gasping in delight when Nick followed him into bed. Nick pulled Charlie’s hand away from his mouth and Charlie bit his lip, his stomach bubbling in delightful swirls. There was another golden moment before they both moved towards one another at the same time. A shiver went down Charlie’s spine when Nick kissed him this time, this kiss more intense than the others. Nick’s mouth was on Charlie’s, his tongue soft and turning Charlie’s knees to water. Charlie wrapped his leg around Nick’s, and their bodies rocked towards one another. God, Charlie wanted that. He wanted that so badly.
He wanted that, but there was also, no – like, no rush. With Ben, Charlie instinctively knew that he had to provide Ben with something. Some sort of sex, to keep him hooked and interested. With Nick, Charlie didn’t feel that. He felt the wanting, but not the desperate pressure that he had felt before. As Charlie reflected on how perfect and relaxed this felt, he also felt his eyelids getting heavier. He’d slept maybe four hours of the last 48 and he could feel his blinks getting slower and longer. Nick seemed to feel the same, his movements more languid.
With a sigh, Nick kissed him once more and then pulled Charlie so that their bodies were tucked together. He wrapped himself around Charlie’s back, cuddling him close. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut, not able to suppress the happy sound that escaped when Nick pulled him close. He murmured in amazed bliss as Nick kissed him several more times on the shoulder, then once on the base of the neck before settling in.
Charlie tried to stay awake as long as he could, to take in the absolute perfection of Nick’s body with his. He tried, but he couldn’t fight the peaceful comfort of their bodies together like this, the way it felt like it was supposed to be. Charlie sighed happily and lay his head against Nick’s arm, breathing in the most perfect moment of his life.
The first perfect moment, Charlie hoped. He hoped it was only the first.
Notes:
Next week is another Lavender Fields week!
Mason Jar Ice Cream
One of my friends recently taught me how to make mason jar ice cream. I like it especially because all of the shaking of the mason jar makes me feel like I’ve really *earned* the ice cream, you know?
Ingredients
½ cup heavy cream
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch salt
Then the sky is the limit! Add cocoa, peanut butter, strawberry powder, chocolate chips, pistachios - whatever you like!Directions
Pour the cream, sugar, vanilla and salt into an 8 ounce mason jar, plus any of the other ingredients you want. Screw on the lid and shake until the ingredients become thick and double in size, about 3 to 4 minutes. You can also use an electric mixer to blend quicker. Freeze for 2 to 3 hours until the consistency resembles soft-serve ice cream. Don’t freeze for too long or else you’ll develop ice crystals. Scoop and serve!
Chapter 49: Charlie's POV: Nerves
Summary:
Charlie and Nick wake up after their first night sleeping in a bed together. They are super chill and subtle and no one suspects that anything happened for the entire chapter.
Notes:
Waveofyou, you know that feeling when you see a baby bunny with its little nose wriggling and you think, oh my god you’re so adorable and I LOVE YOU SO MUCH and want to squish you with my love? That’s how you make me feel. I hope you’re happy.
(Seriously, I do hope you’re happy because I love you and want the best for you.)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie vaguely remembered reading once that if a person went too long without sleeping, their brain would eventually go unspooled and they’d die. If he recalled correctly, scientists weren’t sure of the exact mechanism by which a lack of sleep killed a person, but at the moment, Charlie really couldn’t be arsed. He hadn’t slept the night before (after the near-kiss miss on New Year’s Eve) and there was no fucking way he was sleeping tonight, wrapped in Nick’s arms. If – and dear sweet merciful god, let ‘if’ happen – if Charlie ended up in a bed with Nick Nelson for multiple nights in a row, he wondered if he might never sleep again. Oh well. It would be worth dying for. It would be worth his brain dissolving into a loosely shaped clump of neurons to lay in Nick’s arms.
It was some ungodly hour in the morning when Charlie had awoken again, though he wasn’t sure if he’d ever really gone to sleep. All night, Charlie had dozed on and off, fighting to stay awake to soak in every delicious moment of his body pressed against Nick’s. Although it might have been more accurate to say that it was every moment of Nick’s body pressed against his.
To Charlie’s perpetual astonishment, Nick seemed determined to get as close to Charlie as possible. The attempts at sleep had started with a spooning session so sweet that Charlie felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, Nick cradling Charlie close to his body. Throughout the night, Charlie woke up to various iterations of Nick Nelson on his body: a leg wrapped around his, arms pulling him close, Charlie snuggled up in a bear hug on Nick’s chest. There were endless moments in the night when Charlie would touch Nick’s forearm that was wrapped around his chest, astonished that any of this was real. He’d ripped off his jumper at some point in the night, far too hot but utterly unwilling to separate from Nick for more than a few seconds. Charlie had settled back into bed and pulled Nick’s arm close against his chest, soaking in the bliss.
When Charlie awoke this time, he stirred slightly and frowned. Where was Nick? Had he moved to the other side of the bed? Charlie held perfectly still, his eyes feeling too red and tired to wrench open. He didn’t hear any breathing – had Nick gotten out of bed? Had Nick realised that this was a mistake? Was Nick downstairs, breathing hard and gripping the worktop in the kitchen, horrified to realise that he didn’t actually like Charlie like that?
The sound of the toilet in the en-suite pulled Charlie from his impressively-quick panic spiral. After a few seconds, Charlie felt Nick sliding back into bed, and he slowly opened his eyes to see the most gorgeous face he could imagine.
“Sorry,” Nick whispered, settling on the pillow and giving Charlie a nervous smile.
Charlie reached out to lay a finger on Nick’s lips, accidentally pushing a little too hard and smushing them in the process. “‘S too early for sorries,” he muttered, voice still croaky from sleep.
Nick caught his hand and pulled it to his warm cheek with a smile. “Says the unrivalled king of unnecessary contriteness.”
Charlie’s belly flooded with warmth at the gentle, tender gesture. It was… it was like Nick was giving him permission to touch, even with their eyes open and with the light spilling in the window. Charlie’s breath hitched and he touched Nick’s cheek in amazed reverence, then finally brushed his fingers into Nick’s hair. It felt just as silky and incredible under his fingers as he’d imagined. Nick watched Charlie’s face, and Charlie could feel himself growing warm under his gaze. “Hi,” he said quietly, feeling irrationally shy for having just shared a bed with someone.
“Hi,” Nick replied. Before Charlie could worry more about what this had been, what this was, Nick reached out a hand and pressed it to the back of Charlie’s neck. Charlie closed his eyes, almost whimpering. Nick’s hand was both gentle and strong. God, the dualities in this man were truly amazing.
The glittering moment evaporated when the real world pressed in on them, the sound of people and cars drifting up through the window. Charlie blinked and then stretched, realising how tight his body was after a night of staying tense and trembling, wondering if at any moment he was going to wake up from this gorgeous dream.
Charlie heard a door shut and then Tara’s voice floated up as she called into the caravan. “I’ll grab you some paracetamol and bread, love.” Charlie half-grinned to himself. Darcy. For someone who got the worst hangovers of anyone he knew, she was impressively determined to not recognize the natural consequences of her alcohol-related actions.
Nick stretched and Charlie let his eyes drift as he did, keeping them hooded so Nick wouldn’t see how pervy Charlie was (or at least how much he wanted to be). Nick relaxed back onto the bed and lay still. “I should get up and grab that for her. I assume it’s for Darcy; she looked like she was going to need it even last night.”
“That’s our Darcy,” Charlie chuckled, eyes closed again. He heard rustling and looked over to see Nick on his side, smiling at Charlie. There was a fizzy, delightful feeling in his stomach as Nick looked at him, his eyes lingering on Charlie’s face. Charlie licked his lips and smiled back, trying not to look like too much of a goober. “What?”
“Nothing,” said Nick, turning his head slightly away and blushing. It was fucking adorable. Charlie marvelled again at this massive, strong man who was also incredibly soft. “Well – just this,” Nick said, and Charlie’s heart quickened as Nick reached out a hand to touch Charlie’s face softly. “I like… this.”
‘I like this’? Nick likes this? That thought felt so staggering. While Charlie knew Nick would tell him otherwise, it still felt like – like Nick was unknowingly doing Charlie a favour. He was willing to lay in a bed with Charlie, someone far below him. Charlie felt a momentary brush of anxiety and tried to breathe past it. Think about that later. Be here now. He smiled at Nick. “I do, too.”
Nick sighed. “I hate that I have to get up. I could stay here all day.” God, Charlie could, too. Nick looked at him for a long moment, and Charlie could see Nick’s eyes flickering as he gazed into Charlie’s. Is he going to kiss me again? Charlie thought, his body almost vibrating with the want of it. Please, he begged. Please please please kiss me again. Nick hesitated and then he traced his thumb over Charlie’s cheek before sighing once more and rolling out of the bed to get dressed.
Devastatingly, he went back to the bathroom to change and Charlie lay in the bed, mind swirling. He felt a searing lurch of disappointment, but it was all right. He knew this. Kissing was something that was done at night. Kissing was done in the dark. He breathed into that, comforting himself. Maybe tonight, Charlie thought desperately.
Nick came back into the room and leaned over Charlie to tuck him in, all the way from his feet to his neck. Charlie giggled as he did, feeling warm and comfortable. He fought against his eyes flying open when Nick kissed him on the forehead. Nick fucking kissed him on the forehead like a fairytale prince. “I’m going to go check on the girls and get the sticky buns in the oven,” said Nick as he left another fucking kiss on Charlie’s forehead?!
Charlie’s eyes slid closed in dreamy bliss. Who was this man? “I’ll be down in a few,” he said. Yeah, I’ll be down in, oh, three to six minutes. Charlie’s hand had a few things to take care of first.
-
After Charlie’s morning, er, preparations, he made his way downstairs where a few of the others were already up, chatting and laughing. Before Charlie walked into the kitchen, he felt a stab of insecurity. He wondered what it would be like in front of other people. Charlie knew that Nick wasn’t like Ben, but Nick clearly wasn’t out. It went without question that Nick wouldn’t want people to know, but Charlie wondered how differently Nick would act around him. He wouldn’t be cruel like Ben, but would he keep his distance?
“Fuck me,” came a gravelly, exhausted voice behind him.
Charlie turned to see Tao looking markedly worse for the wear. He grinned, his heart racing a little from considering what it would be like around Nick. “Not feeling your best?”
Tao groaned. “I feel like I just watched The Last Airbender again.”
Charlie laughed, trying to calm his nerves. “Will pastries help?”
“They can’t not help,” Tao said, yawning and moving past Charlie into the kitchen. Charlie followed him in and his worries disappeared, chased away by Nick’s glowing smile.
As the group drank coffee and ate the delicious muffins that Nick had made as a pre-sticky bun starter, Charlie felt incredibly aware of where his eyes kept landing: namely, on Nick. They kept locking gazes, then looking away. Every time it happened, Charlie forced down his blush, then darted his eyes around as inconspicuously as he could. Elle already had suspicions about Nick (and apparently had been dead fucking right), and Charlie squirmed a little at the idea of her and everyone else knowing what happened. It all felt so new and fragile – whatever it even was. To have the microscope of people making a fuss and knowing… well, Charlie wasn’t sure he wanted that quite yet.
It didn’t stop him from continuing to steal glances at Nick, though, and he jumped when the oven temperature indicator went off.
“Buns,” said Nick, a touch too loudly, and Charlie nodded his head in vigorous agreement. Nick put the buns into the oven and Charlie watched his hands as they emerged from the cooking gloves, one gorgeous digit at a time. “I’m going to run down and see to the cows quickly,” said Nick, his face flushed with the heat of the oven.
God, Charlie was itching to be alone with Nick. They should have talked about what it would be like in front of other people that morning before they got out of bed. Also… Charlie just selfishly wanted to be alone with Nick for his own purposes. Conversational purposes. A few minutes later, Seamus provided a perfect entry.
“Oi, Charlie, d’you know if there are extra duvets?” Seamus asked, yawning and pouring some coffee after he came into the kitchen.
“Hmm,” said Charlie, trying to think. He knew where the duvet covers were and where the sheets were, but he wasn’t sure on the comforters themselves. “Do you just need, like, a blanket, or a full duvet?”
“Oh, a full duvet,” said Seamus, shaking his head. “There’s a Canadian terrorist in my bed who wraps herself in the covers like a fucking tornado. I was freezing last night.”
“I’m not sure I do,” said Charlie honestly. “I’ll go ask Nick, though.”
“You don’t have to–” Seamus started, but Charlie waved him off.
“It’s no worries!” he said, perhaps too enthusiastically. It would feel too clingy and strange to follow Nick down to the barn with no reason, and now he had a reason. Charlie pulled on his coat and hurried down the porch stairs, crossing the road to get to the barn. He passed the large barn doors, touching them with his fingertips. He remembered the day he and Nick had squeezed onto a stool together, his hands closing over Nick’s on a pair of drumsticks. Charlie smiled, recalling that day, stomach doing flips. They’d been so close and Charlie’s heart had been hammering and–
Charlie’s eyes cracked open and he looked at the barn door again, this time thinking about the drums. The drums that Nick had found. The 8-thousand-quid set of drums that had only been manufactured for a few years that Nick had just incidentally discovered in the barn. His lips quirked into a smile and Charlie tried to suppress it back. He’d come back to that line of thinking later.
Charlie made his way down the hill and could see Nick patting the cows and clearly talking to them. As Charlie got closer, he could hear snippets. Did… did Charlie hear his own name? Did he hear the word… kiss? No, right? Charlie’s mouth curved back up into another smile, one he couldn’t hope to suppress. Was Nick talking about him to the cows? Only a giant nerd would do that. Was Nick a giant nerd? Nick Nerdson. Oh god, what was happening to his brain?
“Nick?” Charlie called, not wanting to scare him.
Nick startled and turned round, looking at Charlie in abject surprise. Then his mouth tugged up into a smile, the expression lighting up his features. “Hey,” he said, his eyes on Charlie’s face.
“Hey,” Charlie returned, grinning stupidly, his heart racing just being in Nick’s presence. “Um, Seamus was asking–” He let out a tiny sound of astonished surprise as Nick’s smile faded and he strode purposefully over to Charlie, taking his face in his strong, soft hands. Charlie was nearly frozen in spine-melting surprise, and then Nick had the audacity to run this thumb along Charlie’s jaw, nearly dissolving Charlie’s ability to stand up in the process. Nick’s eyes were looking between Charlie’s, his eyebrows drawn together, and it looked like he was asking for permission. Permission to kiss Charlie? That was almost laughable. But then again… this was Nick.
Charlie jerked his chin up almost involuntarily, trying to get closer to Nick’s mouth. Nick hesitated a moment more and then pulled Charlie close, kissing him. Nick… Nick kissed him. In the daylight. Not in bed. Not in the dark. Charlie sighed, a relieved sound that escaped him without his meaning to. Nick was kissing him. Nick had kissed him again. Feelings trickled through Charlie’s veins and he pushed himself on his toes to kiss Nick more closely, touching Nick’s strong arms to balance himself. The world stopped for a moment, but it didn’t matter. All that did were Nick’s arms, holding him. Nick’s lips, pressed against his. Nick’s body against Charlie’s.
After not nearly enough time, Nick pulled back and Charlie took a breath to try to steady himself. “Sorry,” said Nick, a bit pink in the ears. “I just… wanted to kiss you this morning and didn’t, and it’s all I’ve wanted to do since I got out of bed.”
Charlie was dizzy. Nick wanted that too? Then he caught himself, wanting to meet Nick’s startling honesty with his own. “I… wanted that too,” he said. The air quivered around them and then they pressed together again, Nick pulling in the back of his head with one hand. It was… it was everything. Charlie brought his trembling hands to Nick’s cheeks, his skin burning against the icy air.
The sharp snap of a stick breaking surprised them both and Charlie turned to see James, his foot hovering in the air and looking at them with wide eyes.
“Sorry, lads,” James said with an apologetic look, foot still frozen. “I went for a run this morning and heard voices so I was coming to say hi and stretch and then I… yeah. I’ll just, um, I’ll just head back up then.” James turned and started to walk away, looking abashed as Charlie reeled, his hands still on Nick’s cheeks. Then James turned back towards them, giving Nick and Charlie a serious look. “I won’t say anything. Not until you two wanted to say anything.” James nodded firmly, then his face shifted into a giant smile turning to Nick. “Congrats, mate. I had the sense you’ve been hoping for this for ages.” Charlie’s eyeballs threatened to fall out of his head and he swivelled his eyes to look at Nick, whose neck was crimson. “And Charlie,” said James. Charlie turned his gaping face to look at James, heart hammering in his chest. James tilted his head back and forth, giving a jerk of his chin towards Nick. “You… could do better.” Charlie laughed, the sound rising up out of his throat. James winked. “See you up at the house, boys.”
Charlie felt as though he was in a block of ice for a moment, then the utter lunacy of the moment hit him. He and Nick had been kissing, and James had probably cheerfully gone over to say hello to them, then reeled in shock. Despite his crackling nerves, embarrassment, and anxiety about what Nick might think or do, Charlie giggled, imagining what James probably thought. Nick joined in immediately, laughing and relaxing Charlie incrementally. Nick didn’t seem angry, Charlie thought as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh my god,” moaned Charlie through the giggles, burying his face in Nick’s chest and Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie’s body.
“I know,” Nick said against his head, and Charlie felt Nick’s fingers curling around his hair. Charlie’s giggles slowed as they did, the dark edges of worry crept back in. Nick’s teammate – who previously thought Nick was straight – just saw him kissing a man. And not just a man, kissing Charlie. This wasn’t… this wasn’t a joke. This might be deadly serious for Nick, and Charlie felt a plummeting icicle carving through his stomach. He pulled back and looked at Nick, whose expression was now worried and mirroring Charlie’s.
Charlie took an unsteady breath. He had to address it. This was bad. This could be really bad for Nick. “Do you… not want people to know? Like, I know this is new for you, and you probably don’t want to tell anyone, right?” he asked, calculating how he might fix this for Nick. He could tell James it was a one-time thing, or he could work to convince James to tell no one. He knew Nick wouldn’t want people to know, and–
“No,” said Nick, shaking his head firmly. “No, I don’t care if any of them know at all.”
Charlie felt the world shift, shocked that the earth hadn’t in fact buckled below his feet. Nick couldn’t be serious. He was hiding his feelings for Charlie’s sake. “Really?” Charlie asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Yeah, really,” Nick said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “I mean, I don’t need to, like, go full Danny Turner on any of them and risk public indecency laws.” He returned Charlie’s tentative grin, his smile broader than Charlie’s. “But I’m not worried about the way any of them in that house would react.” Charlie felt his lips part as he tried to understand all of the things happening right now. “What about you?”
Charlie felt entirely unmoored, touching Nick’s chest to convince himself that this was real. There was no way that Nick was just, like… cool with this. With someone knowing. Charlie was so overwhelmed with confusion and gratitude and care that he pushed on his toes and kissed Nick softly, melting in the tiny, happy murmur Nick let out. Ben had taken years and Charlie – wait, Nick had asked… he’d asked what Charlie wanted? “I…”
Charlie paused, nonplussed. What did he want? He wanted Nick. He knew that. He wanted to be with Nick every second of every day. He wanted to spend evenings together and cuddle in the same bed every night. He wanted to lace their hands together and just be. All of that felt impossible with the attention of their friends like a spotlight. And there was also… No, Charlie told himself. Just be there with Nick. Be honest with Nick. “I feel a little, like, intimidated,” Charlie got out, wanting in no way for Nick to think he was ashamed of Nick. “About telling everyone. It’s just, like – with so many people…”
“I know,” agreed Nick. “There are so many people here. And two of them are Danny and Darcy.”
Charlie laughed. “Exactly. Like, I don’t care at all if anyone knows, but I feel like telling everyone today that we…” Kissed? Cuddled? Should get married right here, right now before you change your mind? “That just seems like a lot?”
Nick nodded, and Charlie felt himself relax again. “Well, everyone leaves tomorrow. And we’ll have time to, uh, talk tonight. Just the two of us.”
Charlie tried very very hard to prevent the phrases talk tonight and just the two of us from sending all of his blood immediately to his low belly. He swallowed. “Yeah,” he replied back hoarsely. There was a long moment where Charlie’s brain swirled through a thousand pre-bedtime fantasies before some semblance of intellect returned. “So I guess maybe today we just don’t…" Kiss every second until I need a lip transplant for stage III chappage?
“Yeah,” said Nick with a soft smile, interlacing his fingers with Charlie’s. “I’ll control myself in front of all of them and not just….” Nick leaned his head down closer to Charlie and Charlie couldn’t stop the noise that rose out of him. They kissed again, and Nick’s perfect tongue brushed Charlie’s. This time he legitimately moaned, and Nick kissed him once more before stepping back, looking regretful. “So, let’s just… we can just not do… this while everyone is still here, yeah?”
Charlie nodded, though he wasn’t sure he understood language any more. That kiss had been… well, it was now one of the formative moments in Charlie’s life. “Yeah,” he said, though he hated all four letters of that word at the moment. “We’ll just… go back to not doing this. Just while we’re around everyone.”
Nick pulsed his hand and Charlie’s chest crackled with warmth. He had no idea how this story-character-come-to-life was real, and when he would snap out of it and start acting like a real human man. They walked up the hill together, shoulders brushing as they prepared to be two friends with no romantic undertones whatsoever.
-
That did not go well.
When Nick and Charlie got back up to the house, everyone was up. Well – in a literal sense at least. Danny and Darcy were technically both awake, but neither one was upright. Danny was sitting with his upper body splayed across the dining room table while Darcy lamented every choice she had ever made (and would likely make again in seven or fewer hours). Charlie chatted to Tao, Elle, and Tara for a bit, Tao much perkier with the smell of the sticky buns filling the house. Nick excused himself to go get the pastries and Charlie said something vague about helping, following Nick into the kitchen a moment later.
Nick grinned at him as Charlie entered the kitchen, and then leaned over to open the oven. Charlie surreptitiously looked at the hot buns pulling the other hot buns out of the oven. Nick straightened up and Charlie tried to school his face. He caught a glimpse of the buns over Nick’s shoulder, the caramel still bubbling on top of them and the pecans golden brown. They looked gorgeous.
Unthinkingly, Charlie rubbed Nick’s back proudly. “They look amazing,” he said with a grin as Nick looked down to smile at him.
“Thanks,” said Nick, looking pleased. He set the trays down and they both stood there, inhaling the warm, sugary scent.
Charlie didn’t know what was emboldening him, but he slid his hand up Nick's back to his neck, pausing to see if Nick shrugged it off with his heart beating rapidly. When Nick didn’t, Charlie started to massage the back of Nick’s neck. Nick made a soft noise and leaned his head against Charlie’s as Charlie continued to work the muscles. “Hmnnf,” Nick said eloquently, the soft, moan-sound shooting right to Charlie’s groin. Charlie’s heart, just settled, sped up again. Maybe later, they would even–
“Oh!” Charlie physically jumped, whipping around to see Elle. “Sorry,” she said, her eyes huge.
“Don’t be!” said Charlie in a voice that was likely to attract all of the dogs south of London. “We were – we just – we – look, Elle!” Charlie jabbed a finger at the buns as if they might burn whatever Elle had just seen out of her mind.
Elle pressed her lips together in a familiar expression and leaned her head over to look. “Wow, Nick, those look incredible.”
“Thanks,” mumbled Nick, as red as his hair. He glanced at Charlie, his eyes wide. “I’m just going to set down some trivets and bring these out,” he babbled, then turned back to Elle. “Can you grab–”
“The coffee and tea?” interrupted Elle, already moving towards it. “Yes. That’s what I came in here for.” She lifted the carafes, and then looked at Nick and Charlie, nodding vaguely toward the buns. “It looks really nice in here.” She gave Charlie a tiny shadow of a wink and then made her way out. Charlie suppressed a grin, shaking his head. Elle. She knew. She somehow always knew.
Nick let out a loud, shaky sigh and touched Charlie on the shoulder. Charlie turned to him, pulling at his own face in mortified amusement. “Um… oops?”
Nick laughed. “I blame you for that one.”
“Me?! You were the one making that soun–” Charlie gulped. He didn’t trust himself to return to that sound Nick made, the soft moaning one that nearly made Charlie as melty as the caramel.
“You were the one who couldn’t resist how attractive my buns were…”
Charlie groaned. “Oh no.”
Nick looked wickedly delighted, putting a hand to his hip and cocking his bum to the side. “You can’t get enough of this dough, can you?”
Charlie used every ounce of restraint to not sample the buns Nick was proferring with his hands. Or mouth. “Nick, please tell me your New Year’s resolution was to break your addiction from the grip that wordplay has over your life.”
Nick widened his eyes innocently. “Oh no, am I getting a rise out of you?”
Charlie groaned, but internally he was soaring. Nick was just… god, Nick was still so light. There was no heaviness of shame, no fierce suppression. It was still… it was still them. Charlie played his role, though, protesting and pressing his face against Nick’s chest. After a moment, he felt Nick press a quick kiss on the top of his head. Charlie whipped his head up, delighted. “Watch it, innkeeper.”
“You watch it, Guest Room 3 occupant.”
Charlie tried to smack Nick’s arm (and probably would have bruised his hand in the process; those things were like steel cables that Charlie wanted to whip him around), but Nick proclaimed that he was above reproach when carrying baked goods. Charlie sighed and pretended to agree, following his favourite buns with a tray of the sticky, baked variety.
Charlie glowed at how everyone proclaimed over Nick and his baking, Nick giving a playful toss of his hair. Nick truly was incredible, and deserved to be told so every day of his life. In the loud, raucous conversation Charlie was able to sit back and listen, not contributing but still feeling like he was part of the group. Danny was slowly coming back to life, lighting up when Tara asked him about the wedding. Charlie had to grin, listening to Danny’s enthusiasm. Frogs in top hats did sound amazing, but it also sounded like a really unusual and honestly unnecessary addition. Charlie continued following the conversation with an easy smile, but honestly, all thoughts led back to Nick.
Danny and James’s wedding… would Nick go to it? Of course he would. Who would be Nick’s date? Could Charlie be his date? That was getting ridiculously ahead of himself.
“Nick, these sticky buns are incredible!” Charlie had said almost those exact same words to Nick in the kitchen before tracing his hand up the back of Nick’s neck. Charlie could still almost feel those strong muscles under his fingers again. Would he feel Nick’s body under his hands tonight? Nick seemed… he seemed so open still. Would anything change this evening? Would Nick look at him the same way?
Wait, did Charlie feel Nick’s eyes on him now? Charlie glanced over, but Nick was watching the conversation, happy look on his beautiful face. This happened a few times until the time that Charlie looked over and their eyes met, the air frozen in a honeyed haze. Nick was looking at him with that unreadable tiny crease in his forehead, and Charlie’s anxiety seeped in, welling up on the edges of his brain. Was Nick regretting things? What was he thinking?
Nick blushed and Charlie used the sound of everyone laughing at one of Darcy’s hen night stories to lean over and quietly ask, “You all right?”
“Yeah.” Nick gave Charlie a smile, then dropped his hand in between their chairs, like… like he wanted to hold Charlie’s hand again?! It hadn’t escaped Charlie that the group had left two seats open for him and Nick, the chairs next to one another. Charlie’s stomach squeezed excitedly and he exhaled before slotting his hand in between the chairs, too, where it softly bumped against Nick's. Was he reading this right? Charlie held his breath and then nearly fell through his chair when Nick curled his fingers around Charlie’s, softly playing with the tips of Charlie’s fingers.
The rest of the table was rowdy and boisterous, but it was like Charlie was wrapped in a soft bubble, one encasing him and Nick. As Nick caressed his fingers, Charlie gently stroked the inside of Nick’s wrist with his thumb. Nick seemed to choke down a sound. Nick kept his body stock still, but out of the corner of his eye, Charlie could see Nick’s hand moving. Then it rested on Charlie’s thigh, warm and grounding and making Charlie dangerously close to a boiling point.
Charlie sat stunned for a moment, marvelling at how something so simple could be so world-changing. Nick’s thumb moved against Charlie’s thigh, and Charlie held his breath, lifting his hand and then lightly stroking the tips of his fingers in between Nick’s. When a question volleyed over to Nick during some story about Lunker’s stag do, Charlie expected him to pull his hand away, but Nick… didn’t. In fact, he kept his hand there the entire time, sometimes stroking his thumb on Charlie’s leg, but never pulling away. When they eventually got up, Charlie was reluctant to let go and dizzy with the rush of what it felt like to hold Nick’s hand like that.
The day felt excruciatingly long. All Charlie wanted was to go to bed. With Nick. His stomach swirled and swooped with the giddy anticipation of what that night could be like, with no one around them and nothing looming in the corners. Charlie could almost feel Nick’s arms and hands on him. God, what would it be like if Nick’s warm hands traced down his body? What would it be like to have Nick’s face close to his, Nick gripping his hips? What if–
“Are you ill?” Tao asked later, a group of them now sitting together in Nick’s upstairs living room about to watch a film. “You’re bright red.”
Charlie jumped and blushed. “Oh, no, just–”
“Hungover still?” Tao asked knowingly, shaking his head in rueful solidarity. “I know the feeling.”
“Yeah,” breathed Charlie.
“KILL ME NOW,” Darcy moaned, laying on the floor with a blanket over her. Everyone laughed, and Charlie was grateful for the attention shifting off of him. It didn’t stop Elle’s eyes from lingering, her mouth hitching up at one corner before she turned away.
Nick came upstairs with snacks in hand and sat down on the other end of the sofa. Charlie’s skin itched with the intense desire to cuddle up close. Not with this many people around, though. Charlie sighed and curled his legs underneath him, snuggling against the arm of the couch and pretending it was a set of different, much more comfortable arms. He immediately felt his eyes grow heavy and it must have been minutes before he fell asleep succumbing to the intensity of the last few days.
Charlie woke up a bit later, blinking in confusion before he realised where he was. There was a blanket over him, and he momentarily wondered who put it there. It was Nick. Of course it was Nick. The blanket on top of him was Charlie’s favourite, the one with little mooses on it that Amy got Nick’s mum from Canada a few years ago. He smiled to himself and burrowed deeper in the soft fabric, inhaling the scent of Lavender Fields. God, Charlie truly couldn’t believe what the last day had brought. He and Nick kissed. Then kissed again. Then – and here, Charlie’s stomach writhed in exhilarated delight – they’d held hands under the table. And they’d been caught (twice) and Nick hadn’t yet panicked. He had even said he didn’t care who knew. That was… that felt suspicious, somehow. Not that Charlie was suspicious of Nick doing anything to hurt him, but… well, it was so unusual and unexpected that Charlie couldn’t help but wonder when Nick would realise what a big deal it was to have them be, like, a public thing.
Late that afternoon, Charlie showed Tara and Darcy the whole of Lavender Fields, with Elle and Tao joining. They even walked up the road to see the horses, once Darcy felt up to it. Charlie grinned as he watched Darcy feeding them carrots, cooing and stroking their soft noses. He caught eyes with Tara, who smiled and moved closer.
“How long do you reckon until she asks for a pet horse?” Charlie asked in a mutter.
Tara laughed, shaking her head. “She’ll insist that we downgrade the caravan to be a ‘four horsepower’ engine. Literally.” They both laughed and Tara’s expression softened as she looked at her girlfriend. “I love seeing her this happy.”
Charlie smiled, looking at Darcy and then Tara. He thought of Nick’s glowing face when he was around his friends, the ones who knew him so well. He thought of how glowing and comfortable Nick was surrounded by the Badgers and how happy Nick was around them. He nodded, agreeing with Tara.
When they got back, Amy and Seamus had already ordered dinner, which had just arrived. They ate in the parlour, and the brief trickle of tension that had dripped down Charlie’s spine was gone, replaced by laughter and warmth. He looked over at Nick several times to see Nick looking at him, and it warmed Charlie the inside out. After dinner, Danny and Darcy demanded that everyone get up and play a game. Charlie wondered if they were both toddler-human hybrids, able to snap from 0 to 100 mph within seconds. They’d be playing mini hard seltzer pong on these adorable tiny boards that the rugby team apparently all had, for some strange reason.
Charlie edged over to look at the teams that Danny and Darcy (who were billing themselves now as ‘Dancy’) had assigned. He felt a little thrill of giddiness: no other couples had been placed together befores him and Nick. Fucking stop that, Charlie scolded himself, shaking off the glowing feeling. You and Nick are not a couple. Still, though… Charlie smiled to himself. It was still nice to get to be on a team with Nick and not need an excuse to be near him. He was happy about that, but he might have been even happier about some of the other pairings.
Tao was looking between the bracket and Danny as if in disbelief. “I’m… with you?”
Danny beamed and wrapped an arm around Tao. “Buckle up, mate. We did a random draw for everyone and you got lucky.”
Charlie laughed and edged over to Nick, nudging his shoulder in the “laddish” way he’d seen Seamus and Nick do to each other. Nick looked over and smiled and Charlie tilted his head towards the team assignments. “Lucky draw for us, huh?”
Nick grinned, that half-cocked smile that always melted him. “Yeah. Lucky.” Charlie could see a flash of Nick’s tongue as he formed the “L” sound of the word “lucky” and Charlie thought that he’d be lucky to survive this evening with other people around.
The tournament began and Charlie was better than he thought he’d be. It might have been a latent hidden skill, or it might have been the desperate thrill of standing next to Nick, his body recognizing this as some sort of buried evolutionary drive to perform for a mate. The two of them were doing well and Charlie was amazed when Tara, the official scorekeeper, announced that the championship would be between them and the combination of Amy and James.
Tara called both teams to the centre of the room and laughingly instructed them to shake hands. They did, Amy nearly crushing Charlie’s hand with her grip, and very successfully terrifying him with her icy glare. Nick had told him that one of Amy’s toxic traits was an overdeveloped sense of competition.
Nick pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then pointed to James. “You’re going down, Walker.”
James leaned back like a Western cowboy. “You have no chance, Nelson.”
Charlie locked eyes with Amy and nodded towards the prize, an orange that had been spray-painted gold somehow by Dancy. “Say goodby to the trophy.”
Amy stared at him, unblinking. “I will kill everyone you love.”
“...There she is,” laughed Nick, and Charlie joined in nervously. She actually might.
Nick and Charlie took their places, facing opposite Amy and James. Their friends had chosen sides, and Charlie smothered a laugh to see that Tao had followed Danny to the Amy/James side, looking both pleased and confused. Darcy was on team Nick/Charlie and she and Danny were rinsing each other and exchanging playground insults.
“Where did you get that shirt, the poo store?”
“I did, in fact. I had to go there after I went to the jerk store, because they said they ran out of you!”
Charlie had so much fun playing with Nick. Nick was supportive, cheering and exuberant when Charlie made a shot and encouraging when he missed. Charlie savoured the moments between shots, when Nick would high-five him for a job well done or give his shoulder a rub. The match stayed close, and it all came down to the final throw. Amy just missed (and Charlie snickered before she looked at him with murder in her eyes and he legitimately stepped behind Nick for protection), and it was up to James to keep them in the game. Danny blew James a kiss with an uncomfortable amount of air-tongue and James took his shot, neatly landing it in the cup. The room went wild, and now it went over to Nick and Charlie.
Tara yelled over the noise. “Okay! Nick, you’re up! If you miss this, it’s over. If you make this and Charlie misses, we reset and go back to one cup each. If you make it and Charlie makes it, you two win.”
Nick grinned at Charlie and he felt his knees buckle a little. Nick did a few exaggerated stretches, enduring heckling from Danny and his lot and laughter from the rest of them. Nick gave an adorable little shimmy and then let the ball fly, dropping it into the cup. He yelled and Charlie laughed loudly, both of them reaching for a high-five. Nick smiled at Charlie glowingly, his fingers wrapping around Charlie’s for a breath-catching moment.
“Okay, Charlie,” said Tara, breaking him out of his stupor. “Make it and it’s yours. Miss it and it goes back to Amy and James.”
Charlie imitated Nick’s little shimmy and the Nick/Charlie side went mad, cheering and yellow. He laughed again, impossibly light. This was all so fun. Just genuine, amazing fun. Charlie focused on the cup, squaring himself up. He took a deep breath, raised his arm, and threw.
Plop!
The ball landed in the cup with a satisfying sound and the room burst into mingled cheers and groans from the losing side. Nick yelled aloud again, laughing and pulling Charlie into a hug, lifting him off his feet in exuberance. Charlie giggled at the swoopy, momentary loss of gravity as Nick spun him around, then set him back down, their bodies close. They were beaming at each other, faces close, and then like they were magnetised, drew together, lips touching in a silly, exhilarating kiss.
A near-immediate silence fell, and in that quivering moment, Charlie realised what had happened. Oh… oh god. Oh god, he and Nick had just kissed. In front of everyone. And not in a way that could be explained away by Charlie, say, slipping on an errant banana peel. He looked at Nick with shock and rising panic, stepping away from Nick as though that might help.
“Gay,” Charlie heard Darcy say, turning his head to see her glowing smile, her and Danny gripping each other’s arms in joy. “Very gay.”
“Most excellently homosexual,” toasted Danny, clinking tiny cups with her.
Charlie’s breath was still frozen in his chest as he glanced around, trying to move as little as possible. He could only see Amy, James, and Harriet in his immediate line of sight, all of whom looked as pleased as Danny and Darcy were. Charlie’s heart hammered, the silence almost choking him now. They had kissed. They had kissed in front of Nick’s friends. They had kissed in front of Charlie’s friends. With all of his muscles trembling in terror, Charlie stole another glance at Nick, bracing and trying to be ready to see Nick shrinking in on himself or shutting down or turning away.
Instead, Nick, while he looked stunned, seemed… all right? Charlie looked around a bit more, too, to see Nick’s friends – his straight friends Tex and Seamus – both smiling and unbothered. Nick glanced back at Charlie then and Charlie was weak with relief. Nick was okay. This was okay. They were okay. Everything was–
“Charlie, you just broke up with Ben.” Tao didn’t sound angry, just genuinely perplexed. Charlie’s gut tightened and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.
“Tao,” said Elle.
“What?” Tao turned to look at her, then gestured to Charlie. “They literally just broke up, and Charlie lives here. How is this supposed to work if something happened and–”
“Tao.” Elle’s voice was sharper now. Charlie flickered his eyes between her and Tao, his whole body leaden.
There was a beat of silence, then Tao showed shocking levels of self-awareness, turning round to see everyone looking at him. He turned to Charlie, putting on a hasty smile. “It’s great, though, I know you’ve been pining after Nick for months.”
“Tao!” exclaimed Elle and Tara at the same time while Charlie prayed for the floor to swallow him up.
“What?” demanded Tao, exasperated.
“It is great,” said Harriet smoothly and loudly, stepping forward and starting off a chain of chatter, the group expressing their happiness and surprise that Charlie and Nick had kissed.
As everyone chattered around them, Charlie felt a dark tug on his brain. It was like a cloud had hovered on the horizon all day, and had now rolled in and settled over Charlie’s mind. Ben. Always there. Always the dark, swallowing up the light. This wasn’t a rebound. It wasn’t. Charlie’s chest twinged and he was suddenly too hot. He knew that Ben still had impacts on him, but now he also realised that there would be impacts of the failed relationship on behalf of other people. Other people would say it was too soon and that Charlie was just attracted to Nick because he was fit and Charlie was continually desperate. And it wasn’t that. It wasn’t. Charlie was genuinely, impossibly in love with Nick, as ridiculous as that was. He was reeling, though, completely overwhelmed by everyone knowing, and how the weight of their impressions would press against him. He was also anxious about how Nick might be feeling. This was so much to go through; essentially coming out in a single day when it had taken Ben over a year.
“Oi,” said James, holding up his hands and stepping in front of Nick and Charlie. “My clients will not be taking any further queries at this time. Please direct all enquiries to me, and I will promptly ignore them.”
Everyone laughed and nodded, though Charlie felt eyes on him and Nick the entire time they stayed downstairs. It mercifully wasn’t long, though, James yawning exaggeratedly a few minutes later and insisting it was time for bed. Charlie numbly noticed Danny attempting to object, but then shut up very quickly with a look from James. Charlie was grateful, but also anxious. He needed to be away from everyone and try to sort out his thoughts, which tumbled over one another in a tangle of anxiety that continued to crescendo. Charlie felt entirely knotted up and apprehensive, the nerves swirling in his body. He and Nick bade goodnight to everyone and then climbed the stairs in silence, every moment and every ascension worsening Charlie’s prickling anticipation.
Charlie went into the bedroom and Nick followed him, shutting the door. He took a deep breath and turned to Nick to say – god, well, say something – when Nick stepped towards him, his gorgeous face etched with concern. “Char,” Nick asked quietly. “Are you all right?”
Charlie blinked, taken aback. Of course he was all right. He was punching far above his weight, getting to kiss Nick Nelson. But Nick was just standing there, looking at him with his soft brown eyes like he actually wanted to know. Charlie took another breath and tried his hand at something terrifying – honesty. He paused, considering how he truly felt, breathing deeply and noticing the tight constriction in his chest. “I’m…” Charlie began, then trailed off. “I’m… I guess I’m feeling anxious.”
“Anxious?” Nick asked, and Charlie looked up sharply at Nick’s tone, one tinged with fear.
He looked at Nick’s worried face, nearly jolting back when he realised it: Nick thought Charlie was anxious about him. “Oh, god, Nick, nothing to do with you,” Charlie hurried to clarify, touching Nick’s arm hesitantly, not sure where anything stood after the fiasco downstairs. Be honest, he reminded himself. Be open. “It’s just…” Charlie sighed. “It’s Ben, you know?”
Nick’s face was even more concerned now, bordering on incomprehensible devastation. “Ben…?”
Oh, god, did Nick think that Charlie was still hung up on Ben?! The sheer panic and wrongness of that thought unblocked the words stuck in Charlie and he frantically shook his head. “Sorry, no, not - not him! It’s just, like, because of Ben. I don’t want any of them,” Charlie said, thinking of his friends, “And you – like, to think I’m moving too quickly. I really don’t want you to think this is just some – rebound or something. Like, Ben and I broke up three months ago and I know saying that out loud sounds like a really short time, but it feels like a lifetime ago – and, god…”
“Charlie,” Nick said, but Charlie was entirely wrapped in his anxiety now.
“...I don’t want them to think I’m rushing into something. Rushing into, like, anything.” As soon as the words left Charlie’s mouth he wanted to pull them back. This wasn’t anything. Nick would think Charlie was being clingy and ridiculous, trying to determine the relationship 21 hours after kissing for the first time. “Not saying this is something, you know? But, like… oh, god, not like I’m expecting something of you with this, Nick, but I could see them thinking that anything would be–”
Nick said something else, but Charlie couldn’t look at him. He was so mired in his own head now, regretting that he had even started talking about any of this. He was so embarrassing and needy.
“Oh my god, I just need to stop talking. I don’t expect that this, like, means anything beyond just kissing – you’re just realising your own sexuality, like you said, and that’s fine and you don’t need to commit to anything here, and I’m here to–”
“Charlie.”
It was both Nick’s tone and his touch that pulled Charlie from his ineloquent word spiral. He looked up in wonder when Nick took his face in his hands, looking fond. Not looking like he was ready to bolt, which might have been the most shocking moment of the day. Then Nick pressed forward and kissed Charlie, a perfect kiss. A spectacular kiss. Charlie couldn’t even describe it – all he knew was the feeling. It was the feeling of Nick’s fingers pulling him close. It was the heat of Nick’s mouth and the soft, deeply sexy caress of his lips against Charlie’s. It was… it was fucking incredible. Nick pulled back, then kissed him gently once more before speaking, voice soft.
“I get it. I get the idea that it might seem odd to other people that what… happened… is still so recent and we’re going – we have… it’s… That we’re doing this.” Now Nick was the one seeming to grasp at words, tilting his head to indicate himself and Charlie. He took a breath that Charlie could actually hear and gazed into Charlie’s eyes. “What is… this?”
Charlie was struck by a shimmering, baffling thought. Was Nick as nervous as he was? Heart pounding, Charlie tried his hand at honesty again, trusting that Nick was safe. “I don’t know,” he said, searching Nick’s face for any sign of frustration.
Nick took a long inhale and never looked away from Charlie. “Neither do I. And maybe that’s… okay?” He looked at Charlie for a long moment, his eyes travelling all over Charlie’s face before he smiled. “I know that I like you.”
Holy mother of fuck. “I like you, too,” Charlie burst out in the understatement of his life. Nick… Nick liked him? The kissing had seemed to indicate that, yes, but this was Nick saying it. In words.
Nick smiled at him, eyes on Charlie’s. “Do we just… like each other for now?”
This perfect fucking main character man, Charlie thought, astonished. It was like a line from a romance novel that Charlie might have struck out for being too perfect for the main character to say. Well, editor Charlie could suck it. Real life Charlie loved this. “Yeah,” he said, pulling irresistibly closer to Nick.
When Nick spoke, it was a low, growly voice in his ear that sent Charlie’s body to a temperature previously not recorded on Earth. “What does that look like? To just like each other?”
There were a thousand things that Charlie could have responded. He could have outlined what it looked like and how they might act and what they might say or do. At this moment, though, Charlie, for once, didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel. He licked his lips. “Well, I think some of it looks like this.” Charlie kissed Nick, running his fingers to massage the back of Nick’s neck, the same way he had that morning. His fingers had been aching to find their way back into that perfect hair for hours.
After one or two or seventy minutes, Nick pulled back. “Oh,” he said, sounding fuzzy. “Okay. I think I can handle that.” Charlie leaned his head back and giggled, then jumped when Nick brushed his lips across Charlie’s neck. “Does it also include me doing something like this?” Nick’s voice was back to that low, growly note and Charlie was done. Dead. Deceased. On his way to heaven to be greeted by Nick’s mouth and tongue, more or less creating a never-ending cycle. Nick kissed the side of his neck and Charlie whimpered, almost physically unable to stand how perfect and astonishing this was.
Nick pulled back and Charlie had to stop himself from whining. “Is this okay?” Nick asked in a low voice.
“More,” Charlie murmured, lost in his lust. He tilted his head back like he could entice Nick to return, and somehow, it worked. Nick kissed up Charlie’s throat, then down, and then up again. He settled at a spot just between Charlie’s ear and jaw that was… oh god. Charlie quite literally felt faint, and he clutched at Nick’s arms to try to keep himself upright.
“Bed?” asked Nick in the throaty voice that did nothing to improve Charlie’s muscular fortitude. “Are you okay if we lay on the bed?”
“Yeah,” said Charlie in the second-biggest understatement of his life. He moaned as Nick kissed him again, his large body pressing Charlie’s onto the bed. Their hands were on each other and their bodies were touching. Charlie felt like he could visualise every nerve in his body lighting up, electricity shivering down his limbs. And that was before Nick started kissing that spot again, threatening Charlie’s ability to hide how intensely aroused he was. He could feel his fingers digging into Nick’s arm. Charlie loved attention on his head and neck. And that attention, coming from Nick… he was just about to give Nick the attention he deserved when Nick bit Charlie’s earlobe softly, hot breath tickling his neck. Charlie gasped with intense pleasure and Nick jerked back as if burned. “No, good sound,” he managed to clarify, arching his back and neck in the desperate hope that Nick might return to that spot. “Nick…please…”
Nick made a low rumbling sound and immediately brought his mouth back to Charlie’s jaw again, working back to that tender spot and nibbling at his earlobe. Charlie gasped and clutched his fingers into Nick’s hair before catching himself, the memory of a loud and sharp voice cutting into his thoughts.
Don’t fuck with my hair!
Charlie loosened his fingers and tried to breathe back into the moment. It wasn’t hard. Nick wasn’t Ben. Nicholas fucking Nelson was kissing his neck and touching his body and saying something.
“You can…” Nick’s voice was distant-sounding, breathy. “You can, like, touch my hair.” Was Nick, in addition to actively setting an unreasonable standard for real men, also a mind reader? “Like you can – pull it a little?” There was a tiny note of desperation in Nick’s voice and Charlie blinked in astonished amazement before surging forward and gripping Nick’s hair, pulling their bodies together. Nick moaned and seemed to involuntarily throw his head back in pleasure. Charlie took advantage of that to return the favour Nick had done him. He kept his fingers in Nick’s hair but shifted his head down, lathing Nick’s jaw and neck with kisses as Nick gyrated and moaned against him. Their bodies were writhing against each other and Charlie’s eyes were fluttering closed when Nick drew back.
Charlie opened his eyes, immediately afraid he was pushing too far, too fast. “Sorry,” said Nick, his breath both fast and heavy. “I just… this feels so good and I don’t…”
Charlie knew what was happening. This was a lot. This was too fast. This was Nick’s first time (Charlie presumed) with a man and Charlie knew this had to be overwhelming. “Hey,” Charlie said quietly, reaching to touch Nick’s cheek. “First of all, no–”
“No sorries, I know,” grinned Nick, anticipating Charlie’s angle of attack. “...Sorry.”
Charlie tapped Nick’s nose. “Oi.” Nick chuckled and Charlie tried to separate any anxieties Nick might be having from Charlie. Those could be different things. He took a grounding breath and forced himself to broach the subject. “I know this is… I know this is new for you, Nick. Is that what’s coming up?”
There was a brief, tension-filled pause. “Nope, that’s not what’s coming up,” Nick said finally, and Charlie blinked in the darkness.
PENIS.
Oh my GOD Nick was talking about his penis.
His penis. Nick’s penis was getting erect and it was because of Charlie!?!?!?!?
Charlie giggled, completely overwhelmed but also deeply appreciative of Nick’s wordplay in an entirely new way. “Oh my god, Nick. Okay. Fine. That one was good.”
“Thank you,” said Nick primly. “Penis jokes are hard to make.”
Charlie laughed loudly then slapped a hand over his mouth. “What is happening to me?”
“I guess you’re a-dick-ted to groin puns?”
Charlie pretended to be annoyed, but he was glowing as he reached for a pillow. “I’m just going to use this to smother myself now.” Nick was making penis jokes? Did this mean they could be humans who had penises? Did this mean that there was a future where things went beyond kissing to… penis things??
“Nooo,” laughed Nick, pulling the pillow away from Charlie. He looked at Charlie for a long moment before kissing him, Charlie murmuring in surprise. “I… god, Charlie,” said Nick, sounding genuinely incredulous. “I kiss you and I’m so attracted to you. And I, uh – feel that attraction.”
Charlie snorted, amusement cutting though his absolute amazement. Charlie made Nick’s bathing suit area feel things, too?! “This is like an amazing twist on the sex talk parents give. ‘Sometimes you meet someone who makes you feel things in your tummy and your trousers.’”
“Well, yeah.” Nick said with a laugh. Then his face shifted a little and he looked at Charlie, a crease between his eyebrows. “I just – I don’t know, like… what to do?” Nick said hesitantly, and Charlie felt his heart swell with fond affection. “And I know I want to do things with you.”
This incredible fucking man, Charlie marvelled, then spoke what was truly the understatement of the decade, trumping the other two previous ones by far. He brushed back Nick’s hair to stop himself from flinging himself at Nick and demanding to know if Nick was just a droid replica of a perfect man. “I want to do things with you, too.”
Nick closed his eyes and made a soft sound as Charlie touched his hair. “I just don’t know… how? Or, like – I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” Charlie could hear Nick swallow, then his voice sounded almost shy. “We were kissing and you were doing – that – to my neck and I felt…” Charlie turned his head to look at Nick, whose eyes were looking at him, glittering in the darkness. “God, I felt so turned on.”
Charlie let out a half-laugh. “Uh, Nick? I was gone when you were doing that to my neck.” I was actually afraid I might pass out due to a lack of blood flow to any other part of my body.
“You were?”
“Nick.”
“I was just asking!”
Charlie had to roll his eyes with affection, but then realised he should be open. Nick was being so brave and vulnerable, and Charlie could be, too. “I’ve been so turned on this whole time,” he said, summoning his bravery. “Like, I am so attracted to you.”
“Fuck,” breathed Nick. “I’m so attracted to you.” Charlie felt his lips part as he gazed at this literal fantasy man saying literal fantasy things to him. “But, what’s like – where do we go from here?” Nick asked. “Like, where do you go from… kissing?”
Everywhere, Charlie thought, mind filling with the heated fantasies of the last few weeks. But those were just that: fantasies. Now those were possibilities, but ones that took place with a real human with a real heart – a heart that Charlie deeply cared about and wanted to treat gently, kindly, and with utmost respect. “It’s just like we were talking about earlier,” he said. “About just liking each other. We just… do whatever feels right.”
“Everything with you feels right.”
WHO THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THIS MAN?! Charlie blushed intensely, then forced himself to meet vulnerability with vulnerability.
“I… I feel the same. Everything with you feels right, Nick.”
Nick sighed, touching Charlie’s chin gently. His eyes roamed Charlie’s face and his finger traced along Charlie’s jaw. “God, Charlie. You are…” Nick shook his head, looking as incredulous as Charlie felt. “You are amazing.”
Charlie blinked, now feeling a little unmoored. Was – was there something, like wrong with Nick that he saw Charlie in an entirely different way from normal people? “I’m not…” he said, shaking his head and pushing his face into Nick’s chest.
“You are,” Charlie heard, then felt a gentle kiss pressed into his hair. “You are amazing.” There was a brief moment that passed. “Char?”
Charlie drew back in wonder, the giddy delight at the nickname chasing away the queasiness at Nick’s strange praise. “Yeah?”
“Tomorrow, when everyone leaves…” Nick said, voice quiet. “I’ll have my bed back.”
Fuck. Charlie supposed he had thought about that, but hadn’t really thought about that. With everyone gone, there were plenty of beds. “Yeah.”
“And you’ll have this room back.”
“Yeah.” Fucking fuckity fuck. Charlie knew his body was rigid, his hand frozen on Nick’s arm.
“I, um…” Nick’s voice sounded tight with nerves, and then he paused. “I heard that the portrait people can get riled up after a bunch of people leave, you know.” Charlie stayed frozen, confused. “Just, like, small things like hauntings and possession and stuff,” Nick continued. I’ve heard that there’s safety in numbers. Nine out of ten scientists say that sleeping in packs the day after guests leave helps to scare off ghosts.”
Oh – wait. Nick… he was… he was making it non-awkward for this to continue? Oh, god Charlie loved this man. He knew the smile was clear in his voice as he stroked Nick’s arm again. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Nick confidently. “So if you wanted to partner up tomorrow night in a bed – or any other night after people leave – I mean, I’d be okay with that.”
“Safety first,” Charlie intoned, though internally, he was the happiest he had ever been. This wouldn’t be the last night. Charlie was hit by an intense wave of relief and relaxation. He hadn’t realised that he had felt a desperate urge to, like… do things and figure things out on their last night sharing a room. Nick had done it so perfectly, non-awkwardly ensuring that they’d share a room for the foreseeable future. God bless the humble woodworm.
Charlie smiled as he ran his fingers into Nick’s hair, Nick groaning and threatening to re-inflate Charlie’s finally-easing situation. “I think that sounds like a reasonable plan, innkeeper Nelson,” said Charlie, the tug of sleep now pulling on him as he finally relaxed. “I appreciate you adhering to health and safety guidelines when it comes to poltergeists.”
Nick sounded sleepy, too. “Anything for our customers.”
Charlie sighed with bone-deep contentment and rolled on his side, Nick wrapping him close. Charlie hated himself for wanting to wriggle against Nick and feel what was… if anything was still up, but he resisted. As the warm embrace of sleep tugged at him, Charlie let one final admission out. “This might have been the best New Year’s Day of my life.”
“Yeah,” murmured Nick, kissing Charlie’s hair, neck, and shoulder. “Mine, too.”
Notes:
It’s a weird one, but a GREAT one - chickpea chocolate chip cookies! You can make these vegan and gluten free and they are shockingly good.
Ingredients:
1 can chickpeas
½ cup unsalted almond or peanut butter
⅓ cup oat flour (or regular, or gluten free)
¼ cup granulated sugar
¼ cup maple syrup
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
⅔ cup chocolate chips - don’t skimp or Seamus will be fussy with youDirections:
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Drain and rinse the chickpeas and add to a food processor. Add in all remaining ingredients aside from the chocolate chips. Mix it in the style of Salt N Pepa - *real good* until there are no big chickpea chunks. Add in the chocolate chips and stir with a wooden spoon.
Scoop decent-sized dollops into a parchment paper-covered sheet. They won’t spread out a lot while baking, so don’t worry if they spread out now. Top with some extra chocolate chips to be extra awesome.Bake for 11 - 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool; they'll firm up a bit as they cool. Sprinkle with salt flakes and enjoy.
See you for Danny and James next week!
Chapter 50: Charlie’s POV: Heat
Summary:
Everyone who is not in love with Nick Nelson in a sexual and romantic way leaves. Nick and Charlie go out to dinner.
Notes:
Apologies that this chapter is a bit later than normal due to the time zone I am in!
Wavey - you are so bravey. It’s your friendship I cravey. If you were a mustache, I would never shavey. Thank you for being a brilliant friend, human, and beta!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, touching his hair to try to make it at least somewhat presentable. He paused in his adjustments, stopping to revel in the beautiful, batshit reality of the moment. Charlie was trying to look presentable because he was getting back in bed with Nick Nelson, for the second night in a row. Charlie’s lips drew into an irresistible smile and he grinned back at the dopey, love-sick numpty in the mirror in front of him. He was about to get back into bed with Nick. Ablutions finished and teeth brushed, Charlie quietly made his way back into the room. He was going to position himself and lay still on the pillow with sunlight bathing his face, waiting until Nick awoke and looked over to see Charlie appearing effortlessly perfect.
That Razzie-award-winning-movie moment unravelled when Nick woke up as Charlie was sliding back under the sheets, his warm brown eyes looking sleepy.
“Sorry,” Charlie whispered, annoyed with himself for disturbing Nick. He held his breath and tried to be even more silent as he settled in, body a little stiffer now. Ben hated getting woken up by Charlie. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”
Nick made a soft sound and moved so his head was resting on Charlie’s stomach. Charlie froze in surprise, then his body and hand both unclenched. Charlie let himself breathe and moved his hands to Nick’s hair, the silky hairs drifting between his fingers.
Nick sighed and murmured. “That feels nice.”
Charlie’s chest warmed pleasantly, and he kept the pace of his fingers slow, stroking through Nick’s hair. He could stay here forever with Nick. And Charlie didn’t just mean that metaphorically – staying in this moment forever. He felt like he could literally stay with Nick forever. Tomorrow, Charlie thought dully. He had to go back to London tomorrow, and he had to go back for a full week this time for a work on-site.
“I don’t want to go back to London yet,” Charlie murmured, gently scratching his nails against Nick’s scalp. He kept the admission quiet, as if saying it too loudly might scare Nick away.
Nick moaned under Charlie’s hands and the sound shot right to Charlie’s groin. “Can you at least leave your hands here?”
Charlie laughed softly. “That might make it hard for me to type.”
“Who cares?” Nick asked. He rolled his head back and forth against Charlie’s stomach and Charlie tried to let the muscles relax, though it was difficult. “Audiobooks are all the rage anyway. Just record everything instead of emailing it and send it to your colleagues. They’ll understand.”
“Mm, definitely.” Charlie grinned, smiling down at the gorgeous, funny man who was… who wanted him to stay?
There was a brief pause before Nick spoke again. “Are you staying with Elle and Tao that whole time you’re back in London?”
“No,” said Charlie, moving his hands down to massage around Nick’s ears. Nick whimpered quietly and Charlie almost felt sickened by the heat and longing in his stomach. Oh, god, Charlie would not survive a week in London, fantasising about that sound Nick just made. More to the point, his dick would not survive without dedicated and structured rest time. He forced himself to focus. “Darcy and Tara both have some time off work so they’re going to take the camper van round to see some friends, and they’re letting me stay at their place while they’re gone.”
“Oh yeah,” Nick nodded against his stomach again and Charlie tried to breathe and relax. “I forgot they live by you all, too.”
“Yep,” said Charlie. “We got lucky. Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara and I have always managed to stay pretty close to one another with our flats. It’s honestly been a lifesaver through my twenties to have them all so close by.” Charlie felt a twinge in his stomach, picturing a life after Lavender Fields. He would go back to London and Nick would go back to Leeds. Even if this turned into something – no.
Stop it. He was doing his Charlie thing, where he assumed that there would be a future with every man who paid him attention. Only this time it was so much worse, because now Charlie was picturing a future with Nick. Nick, who had a hold on his soul that Charlie suspected would never fully ease. He took a long, slow breath to try to return back to the present moment, not borrowing worries from the future. Charlie let his fingers go back into Nick’s hair, rubbing his scalp again.
“Hmmmppf,” Nick breathed, the sound high and nearly desperate-sounding. God, Charlie would never get tired of the sounds Nick made. But – this was all so new for Nick.
Charlie made himself stop. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly.
“God, Charlie,” murmured Nick, moving his head around on Charlie’s stomach again. It was a bit easier to relax this time. Nick hadn’t said anything about Charlie being too thin or not toned enough. He hadn’t pulled away. “Yes,” Nick clarified after a moment, sighing happily. “Please never never never stop.”
Nick Nelson was going to kill him. Charlie swallowed hard, imagining Nick saying those words in other situations. He bit his lip and tried to slow his heart rate, though it had spiked with desire and want. “If I don’t stop, then I can’t do this,” said Charlie, lightly pulling at Nick’s shoulder until Nick’s mouth was close. His heart was racing at the idea of being so bold like this – assuming Nick would still want him in the light of another day – but those disappeared as soon as their lips touched. Another sound spilled out of Nick’s throat and he shifted to get closer to Charlie, pressing his lips against Charlie’s and tugging him closer, closer. They–
Nick suddenly gasped and jerked away, looking utterly horrified.
A hot firework of panic exploded in Charlie’s torso. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god, Charlie,” Nick, clutching the bed sheet against his mouth like he was going to be ill, his eyes huge and worried. “I was thinking about how you tasted like toothpaste and so perfect, and I just realised that I haven’t brushed my teeth yet! You probably think you’re snogging a snail that was left in the sun.”
The swirling terror that Charlie had felt froze as if it was perplexed before evaporating in an instant, and he dissolved into laughter. “Oh my god, Nick.”
“No, no, no, no!” Nick was quite literally running from the room to the bathroom with a pillow clutched against his mouth and Charlie laughed until he felt weak. He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed grinning, still awash in relief. Charlie replayed the silly moment over, giggling as he thought how literally nothing would make him not want to kiss Nick Nelson. He could hear Nick moving around the en-suite and then Charlie’s eyes landed on one of the lavender eye pillows that Nick’s mum had made, laying on his bedside table (their bedside table??).
Charlie waited until it sounded like Nick was finishing up, then lay back on the pillow, placing the eye pillow over his nose. He fought the giggles that kept trying to bubble up as Nick entered, face immediately perplexed as he took Charlie in.
“Sorry,” Charlie said, desperately fighting to stay serious. “Just trying to use this lovely scent to recover from… before.”
Nick laughed in dismay and then dove onto the bed, burrowing into the pillows like a sexy ginger groundhog with a perfect rugby arse. “I’m going to stay here forever in my own halitosis hell kept company by my only friends, the portrait people.”
Charlie laughed and his heart rate picked up again as he moved to get close to Nick, nestling between the pillows and gently kissing Nick’s neck. “If you stay there forever, that makes it a lot harder for me to do this to you.” Charlie could feel Nick’s breath hitch as he kissed down the exposed skin. Charlie kept his lips soft, his tongue just brushing Nick’s neck with each kiss. He had to take a deep breath and forced himself to stop, not wanting to start something the two of them wouldn’t finish. Charlie shifted again, turning his body and moving his head to share a pillow with Nick.
Nick looked over at Charlie, and the look in his eyes nearly undid him. There was no regret. There was no shutting down. There was no implied disappointment that Charlie was the person he was in bed with. There was only a soft hand, reaching out to gently touch Charlie’s cheek. Then Nick pulled Charlie in close again, kissing him slow and deep. Toothpaste, Charlie thought distantly, knowing he’d never been able to brush his teeth again without drifting back to this moment. Their kiss was long and unhurried, a cooling rinse after the surges of heat. Nick eventually pulled back with a sigh, though he kept his forehead close.
“Hi,” said Charlie, feeling suddenly shy again under Nick’s warm gaze.
Nick smiled. “Hi.”
Charlie fought to not kiss Nick again, instead reaching out and touching Nick’s arm. “Shall we head downstairs and say goodbye?”
“Nope,” said Nick, pulling Charlie to his chest and cuddling him close. “I don’t even know those people.”
Charlie laughed out of his nose, feeling blissfully happy. “I’ll introduce you.” He made himself sit up, knowing if he stayed in Nick’s arms another second longer he’d never get up. Charlie cast around for something to wear, having stripped off his jumper during the night again. Nick Nelson-shaped pyjamas were the best thing he’d ever put on his body but they were warm.
“You cold, Springtime?”
Charlie grinned at Nick, chest aglow from the nickname. “Always.”
Nick leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed something off the floor, sitting back up and tossing it at Charlie. “Here, just wear this one.”
Charlie caught it with a start, recognising the colour. This was… this was Nick’s jumper. Nick was – he was offering to let Charlie wear his clothes? “I can wear this?”
Nick cocked his head, appearing confused. “Yes?”
Charlie was too taken aback to let himself fully process. Nick was letting him wear his clothes. Nick was okay with admitting to their friends that they had slept in the same bed and room together. It wasn’t just implied, it was… Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled on the jumper, forcing back the rollicking swirl of emotions.
“Thanks,” he managed to get out, gaze roaming over Nick to truly ensure that he wasn’t an AI generation of a perfect man.
“Always,” Charlie heard Nick murmur as he pulled on some warm socks and grabbed his phone.
The two of them headed down to the bright kitchen where Amy and Harriet were directing traffic and getting things ready for the morning. Charlie had braced himself for an onslaught of comments and cheekiness about him wearing Nick’s jumper, but no one said anything. It was just the same easy, normal laughter and rinsing, everyone in a good mood. Well, mostly everyone. Charlie’s eyes flickered over to Tao a few times, who had been quieter than usual, standing mostly with Tara, Darcy, and Elle. The group settled in to eat, and Charlie was seated next to Nick again.
“I’m fucking devo to leave,” Danny said wistfully, looking around. “There is about to be a dearth of drongos in my life and I am not here for it.”
“Ugh, me too,” Amy echoed. “This weekend has been the tits.”
“It’s been amazing,” Tara agreed. She looked around. “Is most everyone leaving today, or just us?”
“Everyone,” Tex said, nodding his head ruefully. “Poor Charlie is going to have to deal with Nick all by his lonesome. It’ll be just them.”
The group laughed and Charlie tried to join in, though his mind was otherwise occupied with thoughts chiefly centred around the phrase just them.
Just them.
Just them just them just them.
It was about to be just Nick and Charlie. Just the two of them, alone in Lavender Fields together. Just them, in one bed, protecting each other against ghosties.
“Anything new with your flat, Charlie?”
Charlie jerked himself out of his swirling thoughts, looking up at Regan. “Come again?”
“Have you heard anything about your flat?” Regan asked with a concerned look. “The whole woodworm thing, that sounds awful.”
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie replied distractedly. He’d actually gotten a message just the day before from Boris and Emily, an email apologising that with the holidays there'd be a delay. Charlie related the email to Regan and the group, leaving out the strange 100-pound voucher to Nando’s that had also been attached. It had been a surprising addition, but honestly, the entire thing was bizarre. Who even got woodworms? Still, Charlie was just grateful for the squishy little blights who were saving his life.
The bitter element of saying goodbye to everyone was tempered by the sweetness of knowing that shortly, it would be just Nick and Charlie.
Just them.
Still, Charlie felt a dull hollowness, knowing that there might literally never be another time that the same group of people would be together again. He walked with Elle and Tao to their room and helped them gather their things, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t spent more time with them that weekend.
In the dining room, Charlie and Elle met in an embrace. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmured as they hugged. Charlie’s throat tightened at the authenticity behind her tone, his anxiety about not hanging out with them enough at least partially dissipating. Elle released him and they both stepped back. She touched Charlie’s arm. “How do you feel about everything?”
Charlie let out a shaky laugh. “Do you have six hours free?”
Elle laughed as well, bright and familiar, and then she pointed at Charlie. “You’re coming over for dinner this week and we’ll talk. Deal?”
Charlie smiled. “Deal.”
Elle stepped away and Tao moved towards Charlie, looking hesitant. He looked at Charlie with his eyebrows drawn together, then looked at Elle. She gave him a significant look and Tao sighed and nodded. He reached out and pulled Charlie into a gruff hug. “We’ll see you in London, yeah?”
Charlie was surprised at how quiet Tao’s tone was. “Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing Tao once more before releasing. “I’ll see you soon.”
Charlie said goodbye to Darcy and Tara and got the keys to their flat, though all three of them were actually watching Nick and Tao say goodbye to each other. Darcy gasped in delight when Nick stepped towards Tao, the entire scene looking more like a golden retriever trying to hug a cat-shaped cactus than anything else. Charlie smiled and laughed along with his friends, but there was a part of him that was anxious about seeing Elle and Tao in London and talking. Properly talking.
He tried to put that from his mind as his friends took off and Nick’s friends – who were also his friends now too? – said their goodbyes. Tex and Regan took off next, with Tex wrapping Charlie in a crushing embrace. He stepped back and tipped the actual cowboy hat he was wearing, nodding at Charlie. “Ma’am,” Tex said with a wink.
As if on cue, they heard Danny bellow, “You stole my line!”
Tex, Charlie, and Regan laughed. “You literally stole that line from me,” Tex protested.
Danny gasped dramatically. “That’s a porky! I’m not even actually Australian, I’m really a Texan who’s brill at accents.”
They all laughed again and Regan stepped forward to hug Charlie. “I’m thrilled for you, love,” she said quietly, so only he could hear. “Let me know the next time you’re in Leeds, all right?”
“All right,” Charlie replied back with a smile, though there was weight to it. He didn’t know if he’d ever be in Leeds. He made a conscious effort to wrest his mind back from spinning over a cliff into the anxiety abyss and waved at Tex and Regan as they made their way over to Nick.
He watched Nick say goodbye to the two of them, marvelling at what Nick was like with his friends, so warm and so kind. There were no stiff embraces where it looked like both people were reluctant to admit that they had fondness for another human. There were also no lingering caresses, no looks that Nick would give him over his shoulder, almost daring Charlie to say something about a hug that went on a little bit too long. There were no extremes like there had been with Ben. Instead, it just seemed to be genuine love. Nick had so much genuine kindness and appreciation in him, and Charlie knew he was entirely and heedlessly in love with Nick.
Charlie blinked when he realised that Nick was saying something to him, poised like he was going to go out the door. “What?”
Nick grinned at him, that cheeky and soft expression that made Charlie feel like he was soaring. “I asked if you were coming outside with us, Springtime.”
Charlie grinned back, giving Nick a disbelieving look and shaking his head. “Fuck no! I’m not a human furnace like you.”
Nick laughed, then winked at Charlie before he followed Regan and Tex out. Fucking winked at Charlie. It was a fucking crime, that is what it was. It was a crime that would most likely have its own podcast, detailing the time that Nick Nelson slayed Charlie Spring with murderous sexiness. The Winking Wank, maybe.
Charlie was still swooning when he said goodbye to Seamus, who gave him a warm hug and said he couldn’t wait to hang out with Charlie again. He ambled outside to say goodbye to Nick and in his wake came Amy, grinning like a demonic demon of North American demondom. He didn’t even bother trying to hide his grin as she walked over, eyes wide and Bambi-like.
“Charlie, I am sooooooo sorry about the beds,” she said, tilting her head in the picture of innocence.
“No you’re not,” he laughed.
Amy was already speaking before he finished his sentence, shaking her head. “No I’m not.”
Charlie gave her a look that he intended to look challenging, though he was still too hopped up with glee about sharing a bed with Nick for it to really land. “What if it had gone horribly wrong and Nick hated it?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “You think you’re the only one who’s called me talking about how head over heels you are?” She patted him on the cheek patronisingly. “You sweet little nerd.”
Charlie positively goggled at that, dumbstruck into silence. Amy gave him one more firm tap on the cheek and laughed, booping his nose and going to join Seamus outside.
Danny came over next, beaming after he released Charlie from a hug that probably turned some of his vertebrae into diamonds. “Congratulations, Chuckles. So fucking delighted for you, mate!”
Charlie laughed and blushed, not sure how to respond. “Thanks?” he managed back, knowing his ears were bright red.
“Call me as soon as you two shag, all right?” Danny said with an earnest nod. “No, better yet, call me during shagging so I can congratulate the two of you together.” He fixed Charlie with a stern look, waving his finger. “If there are no squeals or grunts when I answer the phone I will be very disappointed.”
“And it’s time to go,” James said smoothly, pulling Danny away from Charlie as he made happy, obscene gestures with his hands and fingers as if to illustrate what he expected Nick and Charlie to do. James shoved Danny out the door and sighed, smiling at Charlie. “I’m marrying that man.”
Charlie laughed. “On purpose, as Danny said.”
James laughed, too, then his face grew more serious. “You doing all right?” Charlie could hear in his voice that James authentically meant the question. “I know it's a lot,” he said. “It's a lot of attention and that can be really hard when things are just… starting.”
There seemed to be a lot unsaid in James’s words. What was just starting? The thing between Nick and Charlie, yes, but also… Nick. There was so much just starting for Nick. Seemingly the awareness of his sexuality, yes. But Nick would also be starting to realise what it looked like to live life with a man. Not that Charlie expected that he’d necessarily be in Nick’s life. Not at least, like, publicly. Charlie had seen firsthand how much attention Nick commanded in the rugby world. In the subsequent days since the match, he had looked up a lot of articles about Nick, finding an endless stream dating back to secondary days and continuing even now. Nick was the object of media attention, and Charlie knew what a huge deal it would be to have a coach in the Premiership League be out publicly with another man.
Charlie looked at James, who hadn’t dropped his gaze. James… well, he got it. He got what it was like. “Yeah,” Charlie replied back quietly, not able to muster anything else at the moment.
“We’re always here, all right?” James said warmly, laying a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “For you and Nick.”
“Thanks,” Charlie replied. Then he smiled, trying to shake off the anxiety that had wrapped its slender, tight fingers around his stomach. “And, god, congratulations to you and Danny. I am so happy for you two.”
“Me too,” James grinned. Then he hugged Charlie and said goodbye, heading out to do the same with Nick.
The door shut and the house fell entirely silent. Charlie could just hear the murmur of Nick and James’s voices on the porch, and he thought about the rest of the day. In just a moment, Nick would come back inside. Nick would come back inside and it would be just them.
Just Nick and Charlie.
-
It started off sexy. Sexy defined a falling asleep next to each other on the sofa. Charlie had felt that same twinge of odd shyness that he had the previous two mornings, and suggested a film as a way of easing into just the two of them being together again. Although to be honest, what Charlie really wanted was for Nick to ease into him.
Okay, yes, Charlie did want that. but he also… didn't? It wasn't that Charlie didn't want to do things with Nick. He very much did. It was more so that Charlie didn't feel as much of a desperate need to offer Nick things sexually, as he had in the past with exes and old hookups. “Offer” might not have even been the right word – maybe it was even “give”. In the past, Charlie had felt as though he owed his partners something. He felt like he needed to give them something, to keep them interested and provide worth for himself. With Nick, Charlie didn’t feel the same pressure. He had the desire, but not the desperation, and that was both unfamiliar and pleasant.
He and Nick started on different cushions of the sofa, each of them seemingly unsure on what the protocol was now that it was just the two of them and they were together post-kissing. Charlie laughed when Nick did the fake-arm-yawn-stretch thing and tucked Charlie in close. Charlie immediately felt warm and comforted, snuggled up with Nick. He thought it was probably only a few seconds before he fell deeply asleep, comforted by Nick's easy breathing and the warmth of his body.
Charlie awoke to the feeling of Nick's lips pressed against his hair in a kiss, which might have been the best wakeup he'd ever experienced. There was the time that Elle was fostering three puppies and she set them into his bedroom to wake him up, but Charlie thought that this edged that out. Charlie yawned and stretched, opening his eyes and smiling at Nick. “Did we fall asleep?”
“You did,” said Nick, grinning. “I stayed awake the whole time and was extremely productive.”
Charlie smirked at Nick. “Productive, huh? Is that what you call snoring and drooling onto the blanket?”
Nick flushed for some reason, then recovered. “You wouldn’t know. You were asleep.”
Charlie shook his head and laughed, utterly enamoured with this man. He pressed his face against Nick’s arm, wanting to burrow into the strong safety of Nick’s body. “Mm. It felt nice to rest a little. It’s been a packed weekend.”
“It has.”
Charlie could hear the sleepiness in Nick’s voice and thought about how much work he had put in. “You probably needed that rest, huh?” he asked, sitting up to look at Nick. “The amount of work you’ve been doing here is amazing. All of the meals, the cleaning, the cows – I bet it was nice to get a break.”
Nick nodded, considering. “It was. I still can’t believe my mum has done this for, like, ten years without a break. God, I have no idea how she did it.”
Charlie grinned. “Maybe because she’s not a complete wimp like some retired rugby players?”
“Oi!” Nick protested, laughing. He stretched long and then gripped Charlie tight, pulling him into his body. “Back to it tomorrow, I guess,” Nick said, yawning. “Or tonight, really, we need to eat dinner.”
“I can cook,” Charlie said immediately. He thought that he probably was about 14,000 meals in debt to Nick Nelson.
Nick lolled his head back and forth in an exaggerated no, and Charlie giggled. Then he lifted his head, seeming pleased. “Hey! What about if we go into town for dinner tonight, actually? Since you have to leave tomorrow?”
Charlie blinked, the warm cocoon of comfort and familiarity gone. This was entirely new. He hesitated, then asked, “Like… go out to dinner together?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, grinning at Charlie, who was still sitting there dumbfounded. Nick’s smile faded, and he looked concerned. “Unless… you don’t want to?”
“No, not at all,” Charlie said immediately, worried he’d upset Nick. He was still unmoored from the idea of going to dinner together. Ben hadn’t gone anywhere with Charlie for months, and only then, far outside their regular neighbourhoods. Charlie often felt like an embarrassment, an affair that Ben kept hidden from the real people in his life. He paused, trying to get this right and clarify. “It’s just… do – are you sure you want to go out to dinner? With me?”
Nick pulled an amused face, looking at Charlie in confusion. “No,” he said deliberately. “I want to go to dinner with Nellie.”
Charlie laughed, but his heart was squeezing painfully in his chest. Nick didn’t get it. Nick didn’t realise that going out together meant that other people would see them as two men going out to dinner. With luck and care, they’d appear as friendly pals, out for a meal. Charlie would be sure to do everything he could so that it would look like that. Nick didn’t deserve the scrutiny. He didn’t deserve the pressure. He didn’t deserve the undue hurt of people judging him for who he was with. And Nick didn’t deserve the wonders and whispers of people that if he was going to “be gay”, that Charlie was the man he was out with. Charlie tried to make it more explicit so Nick could truly understand what he was proposing. “Are you sure you’re okay with, like, going out to dinner with a man? Are you - ready for that?”
Nick blinked, and Charlie watched the expression on his face change. Charlie waited with a leaden stomach, ready for Nick’s eyebrows to draw together and for him to take up Charlie’s offer of an out, demurring that he was tired and they should stay in. Then Nick’s face fully relaxed and he picked up Charlie’s hand in his own, drawing it to his lips and giving it a kiss that nearly undid Charlie’s cellular bonds. “Yes,” said Nick, not looking away from Charlie. “I am absolutely ready.”
-
Charlie was absolutely not ready. He had tried on endless outfits and hated everything. It didn't help that Nick always looked so good and Charlie looked so… Charlie. He went through probably every outfit that he had at lavender fields, trying different combinations, smoothing down his hair and then mussing it again, but not finding what felt right for his first official date with nick. Date, right? Was this a date? No. No, it wasn't. This was them going out to dinner together. It might be a date to Charlie… and possibly Nick, as amazing as that was... but to the world, it was just going to be two men going out for dinner together.
Charlie finally found one outfit that he at least felt decent in. He gave himself one more look in the mirror and then headed downstairs, feeling a little ridiculous. It was almost like he was one of the quirky girls in a 90s romantic comedy coming down the stairs after removing his glasses and taking out his ponytail. And then of course, Nick fucking Nelson, romantic lead and hero, made it into a true movie scene. The look on his face as Charlie descended the stairs bordered on disbelieving, looking at Charlie in a way that made Charlie’s stomach erupt into butterflies.
“Wow,” Nick said. “You look…”
Charlie blushed hard and looked down at himself, the blue and yellow of his sweater set against the tight black jeans. “Does it…does this look okay?”
Nick slowly shook his head as he moved over to Charlie, his pace increasing as he got closer. “You look so good,” said Nick, wrapping Charlie in an embrace and lifting him off the final stair. “You look so good.”
“Oh,” breathed Charlie. He closed his eyes and hugged Nick back, soaking in his words. They sounded so real. “Thanks.” He drew back to look at Nick, giving him an appreciative look in his cream-coloured sweater and sinfully well-fitted jeans. “You look pretty okay yours–” Charlie didn’t finish the thought, cut off when Nick pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Charlie hummed in amazed surprise and then kissed Nick back, his stomach flipping when Nick’s hands tightened on the back of his shirt. They separated and Charlie managed to not sway on the spot.
Nick grinned at him, holding out his hand. “Ready?” Charlie looked at it, confused, then realised – Nick meant for Charlie to take his hand. Nick wanted Charlie to take his hand.
Another tremor of giddy pleasure swept through Charlie’s belly. “Ready,” he said, following Nick to the truck in wonder. The wonder only continued in the truck. Charlie kept having these flashes of worry that things might feel different than they did before, but nothing had so far. It was just as wonderful as it normally was, the two of them sitting together, talking and laughing as Charlie provided the soundtrack. It was the same except for the trembling, beautiful differences, like when Charlie jokingly grabbed Nick’s wrist away from the radio controls, then let his fingers drift down Nick’s arm. It was the same, but sweeter. Sweeter and endlessly more satisfying.
Charlie soaked in the last few minutes in the truck, knowing it would shift once they were fully in the world. He was surprised and almost speechless with joy when Nick took his hand on the empty street. They spoke as they walked, Nick gently rinsing Charlie for the way he murmured in his sleep and Charlie blushing, then saying primly that at least he brushed his teeth pre-snogging.
They arrived at the restaurant and Charlie dropped Nick’s hand, having braced for this moment over the course of the walk. He knew it was different in public, and thanked Nick with a genuine smile when Nick held the door open for him. This wasn’t about Nick being like Ben; this was Charlie being realistic. They’d only kissed two days ago. Whatever this was was new. Nick wasn’t out. They weren’t dating. They weren’t a couple. They clearly were not going to present as a date, not in public.
Dinner itself was amazing, because it was with Nick. The conversation flowed easily, the two of them exchanging stories. Now that they knew each other’s friends, the tales about one another’s friends just became that much richer and funnier. Nick was nearly crying with laughter as Charlie told him about the play Tao put on in the summer between Year Seven and Year Eight, a production of Romeo & Juliet spoken entirely in Pig Latin.
“Tao said it was a commentary on the absurd,” Charlie giggled, needing to wipe his eyes with his napkin as he laughed.
“I mean, he really should have called it an ommentary-cay,” laughed Nick, and Charlie kept giggling. “God, I can just imagine what all of the parents were thinking during the performance.”
Charlie shook his head, still laughing. “It was like watching a car crash. And I mean, just picture ultra-serious twelve and thirteen-year old thespians calling out for ‘Omeo-Ray, Omeo-Ray, o where or-fay art y-thay Omeo-Ray?’”
Nick howled with laughter and Charlie felt grinned, though he was blushing and feeling entirely aware that people might be looking at them. Nick told an equally amusing story about Danny and a party that the lot of them had thrown a few years ago, both Nick and Charlie finally settling down from their giggle fit as the entree plates were removed. Nick’s hand rested on the table across from Charlie’s. He tried to ignore the thought that played in the back of his mind, imagining what it would be like to take Nick’s hand in public.
Charlie put that out of his head and smiled at Nick, trying to bring himself back to the moment. “So,” he said. “Do you want to get dessert?”
Nick looked suspicious and raised an eyebrow. “You know you’re not paying, right? That question very much makes it sound like you’re asking if I want dessert because you’re the one paying and you know that’s not the case.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “You sweet giant naive oaf. I’ve been freeloading for months. Of course I’m paying.”
Nick tilted his head, trying to look stern. It was like Charlie was being told off by a kitten. “Charlie.”
Charlie matched Nick’s head tilt, affecting a scowl. “Nick.”
“You are not paying for dinner.”
“You are not paying for dinner,” Charlie sang, bouncing his head with each tonal change.
“Uncanny,” Nick deadpanned. Charlie laughed, unable to keep up the facade. “No, seriously, Char!” Nick said, his voice more serious now. “I was the one who invited you to dinner! And I got paid stupid money when I played; please let me pay.”
The waiter dropped the bill and Charlie rolled his eyes, playing it cool. “Fine,” he said. “We can split it. But that’s my final offer.”
Nick looked smug. “Thank you.” He dropped his card and Charlie did, too.
Charlie made eye contact with the waiter, and when he was approaching, grabbed Nick’s card and threw it under the table. “Whoops!” He handed the bill over with a brilliant smile, cooing exaggerated thanks as he did. Charlie turned to look at Nick again, eyes wide. “Oh my goodness, Nick, it looks like they didn’t see yours, clumsy me!”
Nick was clearly fighting (and losing) against a giant, silly smile. He raised an eyebrow again and shook his head. “Holy shit, you little menace!”
Charlie drew back as if affronted, though internally he was glowing at the flirtiness in Nick’s tone. “I must have dropped it accidentally! How dare you make fun of my butterfingers? We’re not all professional athletes like you!”
Nick picked up his card and pointed it at Charlie threateningly. Well, “threateningly”. He was still Nick Nelson. “You’re going to pay for that, Spring.”
Charlie cocked an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh yeah? Make me.”
There was a quivering moment where time seemed to stop, and Charlie watched Nick’s face shift. His eyes seemed to get darker and more intense, and Charlie watched as Nick’s lip slipped between his teeth, pink and perfect. Charlie had – he’d been close to Nick’s face now, a few times. He’d looked into Nick’s perfect features on New Year’s Eve, when he’d prayed to all of the gods and goddesses for Nick to kiss him. Charlie had seen Nick’s face in the dark, hovering above his own. He’d seen Nick, a blazing look on his face as he rushed towards Charlie, pulling him into a kiss. Charlie had seen Nick’s face so many times, but never looking at him the way Nick was now in the soft light from the restaurant. It was intense. It was hungry. It was hot. Charlie felt as though someone had pulled him off the ground, all his organs left behind.
“Are you ready to go back?” Nick asked, his voice pulling into Charlie’s body and making any remaining remnants of his body tighten in anticipation.
“Yeah,” replied Charlie. It almost felt as though he was inside a sauna, the air hot in his lungs. He was breathing shallowly, too, as though his body was so stuffed with desire and dizzying suspense that he couldn’t draw full breath.
The walk back to the truck was quiet and felt excruciatingly long. Charlie couldn’t wait to get back behind the privacy of doors and obscurity, back to where he could take Nick’s hand again. Nick was silent as they started to drive, but amazingly, Charlie wasn’t anxious about it. This silence didn’t feel like the ones with Ben: the ones where Charlie had said the wrong thing when they were out and Ben had let him twist in the unspoken words, the minutes dragging on. No, this silence felt like it was the only thing holding them back from pouncing on one another and committing several driving misdemeanours.
The lights from a lamppost illuminated the inside of the car as they drove and Charlie watched the way the light made Nick glow. The strong line of his jaw and the barely-noticeable stubble from the last two days lit up, and Charlie couldn’t take it any longer. Behind the cover of the car doors, Charlie reached over and drew his fingers up Nick’s thigh as lightly as he could. He saw Nick shift and murmur pleasurably, then Nick put his hand on top of Charlie’s. Charlie grinned to himself, pulling his hand from under Nick’s and tucking his fingertips between Nick’s fingers, stroking in the same gentle, feather-light way.
Nick made another sound and looked over at Charlie. Charlie was amazed by what he saw – Nick was looking at him… Nick was looking at him the way Charlie was looking at Nick. He had to suppress a gasp when Nick put a hand on Charlie’s thigh, stroking his thumb along Charlie’s muscle. Nick’s large, strong hand on thigh, touching it so tenderly… god, Charlie needed Nick to test the bounds of physics and velocity and fucking floor it back to Lavender Fields. If this was what it felt like to have Nick’s hand on his leg, Charlie couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have the same hands between his legs.
Charlie’s breath caught as Nick pulled into the car park on the side of the house. There was a simmering moment where they both looked at one another, and then they both moved at the same time, crashing together in what felt inevitable. Nick kept one arm wrapped around Charlie as he undid his seatbelt, and Charlie ripped at his own to try to get closer. It took him longer than he wanted, and he distantly wondered if he might be nabbed for terroristic threats as he muttered obscenities against every person who had manufactured or would manufacture seatbelts in the future. He could feel the vibration of Nick chuckling against his throat and it drove Charlie mad, kissing Nick even harder once the restraint was finally removed.
Charlie’s temperature was climbing, and he felt like there was no way he could get as close to Nick’s body as he wanted. After a few frenzied minutes, Nick pulled back. “Charlie.” His voice was husky and low. It was absolutely delicious.
Charlie reached over to stroke through Nick’s hair. “Yeah?”
Nick moaned softly, closing his eyes and then opening them with some effort. “Want to try making out without a gear shift between us?”
Charlie looked down, only now realising that there was an entire-arse gearshift nearly impaling his hip. “Yeah, I think that might feel better.” Nick grinned and leaned over to kiss Charlie once more, taking Charlie’s face in his large, soft, strong hands. God. Charlie was so fucking gone for this man.
More. More. More. With every footstep that they took, his cells keened for more. Charlie’s skin ached and his muscles were tight in anticipation of getting to be close to Nick and feel Nick against him. They both kicked off their shoes and made their way to the stairs, the creaks of the house and the pounding of Charlie’s heart the loudest sounds. They got to the portrait people room (where Charlie himself now hung) and Nick opened the door for Charlie. In the half-light spilling in from the window in the room, Nick’s face and body were shadowed, making him appear even more massive and muscular than he already was. That, on top of Nick opening the door for Charlie and being as sweet and thoughtful as he had all night... it was too much. Charlie had been hovering on the edge of combustion since the restaurant (or to be honest, since the day that he set eyes on Nicholas Nelson), and it was like a lit match had been tossed onto dry kindling.
Charlie surged towards Nick and kissed him, his heart racing with nerves and bravery and intense want. Nick murmured in surprise and then kissed Charlie back, his arm encircling Charlie’s waist. He pulled Charlie close, fingers splayed and pulling their bodies together. Then – and fucking then – Nick spun Charlie around and pushed him against the wall, putting his hand behind Charlie’s head so that Charlie didn’t hit the wall. That melted Charlie even more, though parts of him were, er, solidifying at the same time as Nick stepped his feet wide and pulled Charlie between his legs.
Charlie groaned and ran his hands up Nick’s back as they kissed, tangling his fingers into Nick’s hair the way he seemed to like the night before. Nick gasped and his fingers pressed against Charlie even harder.
“Please don’t stop. Keep – keep… yeah.” Nick’s words were edged with a moan and that made Charlie keen. Nick threw his head back and Charlie took advantage of the position, lathing the soft, tender skin with kisses down Nick’s throat. Charlie could – could he feel Nick against him? No, that was probably his imagination, which by this point had painted a picture of Nick’s penis as stallion-esque. Then Nick stepped back a little to get better access to Charlie’s neck, his tongue and lips brushing the sensitive skin until he reached Charlie’s ear and – oh. Oh, fuck, Nick was pulling at Charlie’s earlobe with his teeth. The hot breath, the slight roughness, the intimacy of how close Nick was – it was so fucking good. Charlie moaned and gasped and his head jerked back as his hips unintentionally hitched forward and–
They both jumped at the sound of breaking glass. Charlie’s eyes flew open and he slowly turned his head to see one of the boy ghosts staring up at him, probably deciding which orifice it was going to burrow into so it could syphon out Charlie’s soul.
Charlie looked down in horror, and then back at Nick. “Oh my god,” he said. His addled, soon-to-be possessed mind seized on the only explanation, that his burgeoning erection had pierced the barrier between the human and spirit worlds. “Do you think the ghosts are going to live in our penises now?”
There was a brief pause before Nick burst out laughing, wrapping his arms tightly around Charlie again and pulling him close. Charlie grinned as Nick tucked him into his chest, marvelling at this novel idea of laughing together at an accident. It had been an accident – Charlie had been clumsy and broke one of the portraits. Oh, fuck, he’d broken one of Sarah’s portraits. They were terrifying but clearly important to her, and Charlie’s stomach was starting to twist into a knot of worry when Nick broke in, a grin on his face.
“You know what they say about having to take a wee when there’s a ghost living in your dick, right?”
Some of the anxiety drained away, replaced by a shivery feeling of delight at this familiar routine. “I am preemptively sad for whatever you say next, Nick,” Charlie said, mustering a large, faked sigh.
“Well, when that happens - urine trouble.”
Charlie shook his head as Nick giggled wildly, snuggling back into the hard-soft rugby body. “I literally don’t know how you do it. Like, both how you think of these and how you live with yourself.”
Nick laced his fingers into Charlie’s hair. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Yeah. Nick was lucky. Charlie would likely never have an unexpected positive outcome in his life; he had used up every ounce of luck in getting to be here, kissing Nick Nelson. Charlie tried to steady himself, willing his knees to unbuckle. “Let me get a broom,” he murmured, though the knee-controlling was going poorly as Nick pressed kisses all over his face. It was gentle and hot at the same time.
Nick spoke from against Charlie’s neck. “No, we broke it. And if you think I am letting you out of my arms, you’ve got another thing coming, Springtime.”
Charlie laughed, though it changed into a squeal when Nick suddenly scooped him up off the ground. “Oh my god, Nick!” He was breathless from delight and surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you safe from glass and ghosts,” said Nick officiously. “Neither one can attack you if you’re off the ground.”
Charlie laughed again and Nick gently put him down. His torso was filled with the most pleasant tickling, and he rode the wave of delight, leaning forward to kiss Nick again, then pulling back and grinning at Nick. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”
Nick smiled back, and another thrill shot through Charlie’s stomach when Nick leaned in close. “I don’t think Marvin can climb stairs, you know.”
“No?”
Nick shook his head and drew even closer, so close that Charlie could smell his cologne. He gulped, hungry for more. “Nope. Nine out of ten scientists agree that ghosts are rubbish at stair-climbing.”
Charlie laughed, the lightness of the sound offsetting the heaviness of lust coursing through his veins. “Wow, you’ve clearly had a lot of conversations with ten scientists about ghosts in the past.” Nine out of ten scientists would also predict that Charlie Spring was about to expire from terminal lust. “Well, then. We’d better go upstairs to my room. For safety.” Charlie channelled his terrified, giddy nerves into flirtation. “Race you?”
Charlie took off like a shot before Nick responded, Nick’s bright laugh chasing him up the stairs and into the room. He barely got into the bed when Nick tackled him, driving Charlie into the pillows. He wrapped his arms around Charlie, who was squirming and giggling, his heart fluttering in his chest. Charlie froze when Nick’s mouth tickled against his neck, readying himself for whatever pleasure Nick might conider giving him.
“I have to tell you something,” Nick breathed into his ear.
Mrggthm. Fortunately, Charlie’s brain translated that into, “Yeah?” from the original language input of "horn".
Nick’s voice was a throaty whisper. “This is my side of the bed.”
Charlie cocked his head in confusion, and Nick took advantage, rolling Charlie across the bed in a bear hug to the other side.
“I was sleeping on this side first!” Charlie protested through giggles.
“I’ve been alive longer than you! I established my side of the bed first in life!”
Charlie was moving in Nick’s arms, trying to scramble back to the side he’d been sleeping on since he got to Lavender Fields. His incentive to keep struggling against Nick was largely powered by the way Nick just held him tighter, pressing his body on top of Charlie’s, though Charlie noticed Nick was careful not to crush him.
“Ugh, get off, you giant rugby idiot,” Charlie giggled, trying to heave himself up. Nick was laughing and trying to pile-drive Charlie back into the pillows. Instead, he slid over to the side and used his shoulder to flip Nick over, Nick moving more easily than he expected. Charlie lunged forward to grab at Nick’s wrists, both of them laughing as Nick tried to tickle his way out. They caught gazes for a moment and both took in the position of their bodies. Charlie was straddling Nick’s hips, his hands pressing Nick’s arms above his head. Nick was stretched out, looking eye-wateringly sexy, his hair messy and falling over his eyes.
Charlie’s breath caught as their chests heaved from the exertion of wrestling. His hips were against Nick’s hips. His chest was against Nick’s chest. Charlie’s body was against Nick’s body. Fire crept up and down Charlie’s limbs, meeting in his chest and low belly. Nick made a small sound and lifted his head, his eyes dark and intense. Charlie pressed forward and they met in a kiss, their hands grabbing at one another. Charlie moaned when Nick wrapped a strong forearm around his lower back, grinding their hips together.
That… oh. Oh god. Oh god, Charlie could feel Nick against him, and he slowly moved forward, dragging his body against Nick’s as Charlie kissed him even more deeply. Nick was… fuck, Nick felt so good. So firm and thick and good. Nick whimpered, a plaintive sound that made the muscles between Charlie’s thighs quiver. Charlie hesitated, but after a moment Nick just wrapped his arms even tighter around Charlie, their bodies nearly glued together. They drew apart and back together over and over, necks arching back to kiss one another anywhere they could.
Charlie thought he could die in that moment, and then Nick pulled back, immediately assuaging Charlie’s anxiety when he pulled at the hem of his sweater as if asking if he could take it off. Charlie tried very very hard not to rip Nick’s top off in his eagerness and thought he partially succeeded. He touched the hem of his own jumper, pausing momentarily before stripping it off.
Scrawny. Ugly. God, could you work out? Maybe if you ate better like I do, you’d look better.
Charlie wished he could strip those words off, too, the ones that lay like a cloying spill of oil, a stubborn stain on his brain. He forced the thoughts down, though they still clung to his mind like the t-shirt Charlie kept on his torso. He tried to breathe back into the moment, which didn’t prove too hard. That was because the moment was Nick Nelson’s body underneath his, the flex and rock of his hip tendons palpable as his body rolled against Charlie’s.
A particularly impressive press of Nick’s hips made Charlie moan loudly and he drew his body slowly up Nick’s, his nearly-painful erection dragging against Nick’s nearly-spine dissolving one. Nick groaned beneath him and Charlie stopped, recalling that all of this was new for Nick. Charlie remembered when things were new for him. Nick deserved his new to be safe, comfortable, and at the pace comfortable for him. “Is this okay?” Charlie asked, completely stilling his hips.
He gasped when Nick’s back arched up under him, his fingers grasping Charlie’s body close to his. “Yes, Charlie,” Nick half-whispered. “I – god, I love this.”
Nick’s words, Nick’s voice, Nick saying Charlie’s name like that – oh, god. Charlie moaned and ground harder against Nick, tiny sensations exploding throughout his body, his skin crackling and alive. They were pulling against each other like they couldn’t get close enough, and Charlie thought he’d never be as close to Nick Nelson as he wanted to be. They were kissing and frotting and murmuring against one another, and it was everything and not nearly enough. Charlie dragged his body against Nick’s, his mind liquefying when Nick pressed his dick up and against Charlie’s as Charlie moved.
There was a part of Charlie that wondered if Nick wanted more, and that Charlie should provide him more. But Nick’s clear eagerness and throaty gasps quickly disabused Charlie of those thoughts and he leaned into how fucking amazing this was. It was like the best version of teenage sexual awakening, since this time it was with the hottest, fittest, sexiest, yet also gentlest man Charlie had ever met. He couldn’t take his eyes and mouth off of Nick, drawing down to kiss his neck on every surging stroke forward. Nick had his legs twined against Charlie’s as though that might make them finally connected in the same way he wanted to be. Nick’s breath was catching, a high, soft sound audible on his breaths that made Charlie’s stomach seize in enraptured pleasure. When Nick spoke, the entire world fit into the single word.
“Charlie… ”
“Nick–”
Charlie closed his eyes and pressed into Nick’s neck as he thrust forward again, overwhelmed by the perfection and eroticism of the moment. Charlie’s life cracked open in a sunlight, glittering moment as Nick moaned and clutched against him, the pleasure of his orgasm clear and openly given, almost feeling like a gift to Charlie. Charlie kept moving his hips as Nick sighed and groaned underneath him, his hips and back arching up several more times.
Finally, Nick stilled and pulled Charlie to his chest, wrapping Charlie in an embrace that felt like another beautiful present. Nick’s eyes were closed and Charlie took in the perfect, gorgeous face. This man. God, this man. Charlie was still astonished that they were laying here together, let alone the privilege of getting to watch and experience this beautiful man in the throes of pleasure. Charlie leaned back just enough to lay his head on the pillow, eyes still on Nick. Nick opened his and Charlie smiled softly. He leaned forward to kiss Nick again, running his hands through Nick’s hair. “You okay?” Charlie asked, wanting to check in.
“Besides the fact that I have no bones, yes,” said Nick with a laugh, and Charlie snorted. “God, Charlie, you…” Nick trailed off, shaking his head. “I feel like I’m a teenager. That was a little embarrass–”
Oh, fuck no. No, Nick was not going to feel shame about any pace they went. Especially not when it was a formative sexual moment in Charlie Spring’s life to give Nick that pleasure. Charlie cut him off with a kiss. “That was hot,” he said firmly. “God, you are hot.”
Nick scoffed. “Have you seen yourself?”
Charlie felt genuinely taken aback, then he grinned to ease his confusion. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, Charlie.”
A stir of discomfort rippled darkly across Charlie’s mind. Nick – was there something, like, wrong with him? Did he not see what Charlie actually looked like? He could feel his body heat rising, and he shook his head. “I’m not.”
Nick looked at him, perplexed. “Charlie. I just literally came in my pants from you rubbing against me.”
Charlie laughed. There it was, lightness through dark. There was the Nick he knew, the one who knew how to lighten any moment. “Sorry,” he clarified quickly. “Not laughing at you!”
Fortunately, Nick was laughing too. “No, no offence taken,” he said. “You’re just… fuck, you’re so sexy, Charlie Spring.” Charlie’s eyes widened at both that and as Nick tackled him against the bed again, pressing Charlie down and then sitting back up, his eyes roaming Charlie’s body. This was… this was unreal. This was a dream. This wasn’t even a dream that Charlie could have even summoned up on his thirstiest day. “You’re hot as fuck, you’re fit, you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever seen,” Nick continued. Charlie’s breath caught, the combination of the irrational words and Nick’s warm body against his making his body liquid and loose. Nick’s hand was now on Charlie’s hip. He bit his lip, and Charlie watched the pink, kiss-swollen, perfect lip.
“Can I… Can I touch you?”
Oh my fuck. Nick – Nick had finished. Nick had an orgasm and now he wanted – he wanted to touch Charlie? He still wanted to pleasure… Charlie?
“Yes,” said Charlie, the word coming out at 2000 kilometres per hour. He swallowed, the desire so thick and intense he could taste it in his throat. Charlie tried to keep the plea out of his voice. “Please, Nick.” Charlie took Nick’s hand and trembling placed it on top of his jeans, right over his dick.
Oh. Oh oh oh oh. Oh, Nick’s hand was on him. Nick’s hand was on him and Nick’s wanted to touch him and Nick was… Charlie’s head dropped back, his body awash in feelings. This was quite literally his fantasy – Nick, touching him. This was every pre-bedtime wank fantasy he’d had for months but the real thing was ten thousand times better. It was so much better because it was Nick, and Nick wanting to do this. It was Nick’s hand slowly stroking against Charlie, tentative at first and then harder. It was Nick, his breath ragged as the motion of his hand sped up. This was Nick’s lips on his neck and Nick’s breath stuttering when Charlie wound his fingers in Nick’s hair. This was so, so much better than the dreams that had haunted Charlie, disappearing as soon as his eyes opened. This was real.
What was also real was how dangerously close Charlie was to orgasm. The feeling of Nick’s hand was almost unbearable, to know it was Nick choosing to touch him like this… “Nick,” Charlie choked out, his fingers tightening into fists in Nick’s hair. “I’m going to… I…”
Nick gripped him tighter and Charlie gasped with pleasure. “Yes,” he said, voice low and seductive. “Please, Charlie…”
The orgasm came on him in trembling waves, hovering tantalisingly before crashing into him, sending surges of rapture through his body. Charlie half-expected Nick to pull away, his job done, but he kept going, hand working against Charlie as his body rolled with the incredible feelings. Charlie felt as though it lasted an hour, though he knew it was just a few moments. It took longer for his breath to settle, a cooldown not helped when Nick Nelson lay his head on the pillow next to Charlie, turning to meet his gaze.
Charlie’s eyes fluttered open, then closed again. “Hi,” he said, a smile turning up the corners of his lips. That smile only grew when Nick kissed him on the tip of the nose.
“Hi.”
Charlie opened his eyes and looked at the man in front of him, the overly-generous man who had given so much to him, before closing his eyes again. “Thank you.”
There was a brief pause and then Nick said, “That was…”
“Incredible,” Charlie said, as Nick said, “Amazing.” They opened their eyes and locked eyes, laughing.
Charlie sobered, wanting to check in on Nick again. “Do you feel okay?”
“I feel like all of my muscles have been replaced with pasta.”
Charlie laughed, surprised. “That is… a unique post-orgasm experience?”
Nick leaned over and kissed him, leaving Charlie to melt through the duvet. “I – you… god, Charlie. You are amazing.”
Charlie laughed again but squirmed a little, wondering again what was wrong with Nick. He must just know the right-sounding things to say to the partner he was with. “You’re amazing, Nick Nelson.”
Nick stretched, then made a face. “Not amazing, though – these jeans right now.”
“I know,” Charlie agreed, the wetness in his pants already cloying.
“Maybe…” Nick began, and Charlie looked over at his halting tone. “Maybe next time we try, uh – things not in jeans?”
Next time.
Two simple words, one life-changing phrase. Ben had never given Charlie the promise of a next time. “The next time” was a concept, an implied withholding. Every time they had hooked up for the first year, Charlie was left dangling in the darkness and wondering if there would be a next time. Nick… Nick never made him wonder. Nick was all light – soft beaming light illuminating everything.
“Next time?” Charlie asked, the joy filling up his chest. He murmured when Nick kissed him, a slow and deep press of his lips.
“Next time,” said Nick.
Notes:
This is such a simple one that I don’t know if I’ve included before: Lemon Drizzle Cake! This recipe is one I love from BBC Good Food (https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/lemon-drizzle-cake).
Ingredients
225g softened butter
225g sugar
4 eggs
225 g self-raising flour
1 lemon, zestedFor the drizzle topping
1½ lemons, juiced
85g sugarHeat the oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4 (350 if using US measurements).
Cream the butter and sugar until pale and creamy, then add the eggs one at a time, mixing slowly after each one. Sift in the flour, then add the zest and mix until combined. Line a loaf tin (2lb/14 x 24 cm) with baking paper, then spoon in the mix. Bake for 45 - 50 minutes until a toothpick comes out cleanly.
While the cake is cooling (keep it in the tin), mix together the lemon juice and sugar to make the drizzle. Poke the warm cake all over with a skewer or fork, then pour over the drizzle. Leave in the tin until completely cool, then remove and serve.
See you next week!
Chapter 51: Charlie's POV: Home
Summary:
Charlie spends some time in London, but he really wants to spend some time in Nick. Er, rather, spend some time WITH Nick. Typo, sorry.
Notes:
Guess who’s back
Back again
NSB’s back
My dick joke friend
Borky’s back, borky’s back, borky’s backWe missed you and your inappropriateness, my love! NSB, we salute your brilliant, bonkers beta beatitude. A giant hug and (possibly-in person next week?!) cuddles to waveofyou, the gorgeous-haired-and-faced land mermaid who I love dearly who also betas this biyatch. I love you both.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie felt like it was only twenty minutes later when Nick’s alarm went off and woke them up. He had slept deeply for the first time in what felt like weeks, his body finally free of the longing ache to be with Nick he’d carried for what felt like a lifetime. Charlie had woken up a few times throughout the night, but had easily settled back into a restful sleep, comforted by the feeling of Nick’s arms around him and the surprising gentleness of his own thoughts.
Charlie was in bed with Nick.
Nick was in bed with Charlie.
Nick was in bed with Charlie because Nick wanted to be in bed with Charlie.
Those easy words drifted over Charlie’s brain like soft clouds, entirely different from the cold, choking fog he’d felt so many times during that first year with Ben. The only even slightly uncomfortable part of the night was how fucking hot Charlie got during the night, covered by an approximately 85-kilogram weighted blanket. He’d needed to throw off the jumper that Nick gave him to wear – though just the warmth of that gesture could have protected Charlie from being chilled ever again.
Said weighted human blanket was still wrapped around him thirty minutes after the first alarm went off. Nick hadn’t seemed inclined to get up whatsoever, the two of them lingering long and happy in bed, softly pressing their lips to each others’ bodies. Charlie had been about to reluctantly suggest that they get up when Nick started to… god. Charlie could barely even form coherent thoughts as Nick dragged his lips up and down the inside of Charlie’s arm. Charlie’s stomach squeezed in a trickling, giddy thrill, his breath hitching at how erotic it all felt. His back arched and he tried to breathe long and slow through his nose, though it made no difference. There was no deep breathing technique that could make him un-be in love with the feeling of Nick touching Charlie’s body like this. There was nothing in Charlie’s life that could have prepared him for the feeling of Nick wanting to touch him.
Charlie had caught a dismaying glimpse of the clock, the time already flirting with danger. Nick pulled Charlie into his body and Charlie inhaled deeply against Nick’s chest, hating the fact that he had to leave. The idea of working for money seemed both homophobic and highly disrespectful, and Charlie desperately wished that he’d soon discover an unknown, distant, and mildly evil relative might die and leave him their fortune. (The mildly evil part would assuage his guilt over delighting in their demise.) As he was still lacking close-to-death homophobic rich relations, Charlie sighed and began to stir, summoning the strength to pull himself from Nick’s embrace.
Nick whined as Charlie started to move. “Don’t goooo.”
“Okay,” Charlie fell back into Nick’s arms, conceding the compelling points of Nick’s impressive argument. “I’ll stay here forever.”
Charlie could hear the smile in Nick’s voice as he cuddled their bodies close again. “Why do you have to leave?”
Charlie buried his face in Nick’s chest, the long, rough-soft chest hairs tickling his lips. “Capitalism.”
“Capitalism is homophobic,” Nick sighed.
Charlie’s eyes flew open and he pushed himself up slowly, grinning. “Did you just make your first gay joke?!” His delight was such that it assuaged his shock at Nick being comfortable enough with his sexuality to make a joke about it.
A look of dawning, happy realisation bloomed on Nick’s face. “I think I did.” He gave an adorable little shimmy and then pulled Charlie close, rocking them back and forth slightly and grinning. “Oh my god, Charlie, you know what I just realised?”
Charlie heard the tone shift and he knew what was coming in the same way that a colon twitch during a jog indicated something both awful and imminent. He pulled back and looked at Nick suspiciously. “What?”
“This opens up an entire world of queer puns for me!” Nick beamed. Charlie moaned and buried himself in the pillows as Nick laughed. “Oh, think of the possibilities! Okay, just realise that every time I say goodbye to you, if I say, ‘bye, Charlie’, in my head I’m really spelling it, ‘bi, Charlie’!”
Charlie cocked his head. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if I was the one saying ‘bi, Nick?’”
Nick grunted out a harrumph, then his face changed to that perfectly Nick expression again. “Shhh, shhh,” he said, smushing Charlie’s lips with his finger as Charlie laughed and tried to pull away. “Just let bi-gones be bi-gones.” He paused, raising his eyebrows cheekily. “You know how I was spelling that in my head, right?”
“Just assume forever that I’ll always know how you’re spelling everything in your head.”
Nick laughingly kissed the side of Charlie’s head from where Charlie was trying to smother himself in a pile of pecs rather than deal with puns. Those sweet kisses to his hair were something else entirely for Charlie. He loved snogging Nick – loved it. He loved their bodies wrapped together and moving against each other, but he liked this in an entirely different way. It was soft and caring, and felt just as intimate as Nick’s hands slowly working themselves down his body, though in a different way. “Fine,” said Nick with a mock sigh. “I’ll disen-gay-ge my queer pun protocol until you leave. Starting now, I mean.”
Charlie chuckled, and the two of them finally dragged themselves out of bed, though there were several more forehead, mouth, and hair-kisses that left Charlie both unkempt and gloriously dizzy. Charlie dawdled as much as he could, hating the fact that he was going to be gone from Lavender Fields for an entire week. There was a new president coming into Charlie’s division and he’d apparently decided that the whole team needed to come in for a three-day onsite following the holiday. Charlie was trying to reserve judgement, but he was already a bit sceptical of what it was going to be like under that bloke.
Nick and Charlie remained by Charlie’s car for far too long, the soft kisses that Nick pressed to Charlie’s lips crumbling his lifelong commitment to punctuality. Then Nick started making more queer puns and that finally gave Charlie the strength to leave, though he couldn’t stop beaming the first few miles. It was truly amazing that Nick could make jokes about something that Ben found so abhorrent about himself for so long. Ben had treated his sexuality like it was a weakness, guarding against anyone knowing his secret. Nick, on the other hand… Nick was playful, joking around and trying out what it felt like to embrace the sillier side of his newly realised identity. He embodied a lightness and ease that carried Charlie all the way through to the doors of his work, where he arrived only an admirable 30 minutes late.
Fortunately, all Charlie had missed was the catered breakfast, though it did mean that he hadn’t had time to catch up with Anita. She shot him a look when they caught each other’s eyes, arching one eyebrow and giving him a smiling, questioning head tilt. He shook his head minutely and she returned the gesture, the whole exchange wordlessly saying we’ll definitely be talking later.
Anita pounced on him during lunch, practically dragging Charlie to a corner.
“Did anything happen?” she demanded, slapping Charlie’s hand when he attempted to reach for a carrot on his plate. “Food later! This is critical, Charles!”
Charlie laughed. She knew a bit about Nick (it was possible that Charlie had not been entirely subtle about his crush on Nick) and had wistfully said before their work break that she hoped that there might be some holiday magic for the two of them. “It… did,” Charlie replied, blushing and trying not to grin like a gormless little worm.
“Oh my god!” Anita squealed, then realised that there were several people looking askance at them. “I cannot… believe that about the bookmaps,” she said in a loud, forced voice, her eyes swivelling around. “Oh my god, Charlie, I am shocked by this workplace development. Let us go into the hallway to talk about this issue related to our professional careers and the business’s goals.”
“You are a terrible actor,” Charlie hissed as they stepped away, but he was laughing at the same time.
“I don’t care,” she breathed, looking dazzled. “Tell me everything!”
Charlie smiled, his chest warm and stomach fluttering. “Well, it was like – he was, you know, proper flirty.”
Anita rolled her eyes. “Like he has been for weeks – as I’ve been telling you,” she muttered.
“But he wasn’t being flirty, he was just–” Charlie paused, so many things clicking into place about two months late. Holy shit, Nick had been flirty for ages. Wait, was flirty the right word? Maybe not flirty, but, like… “Whatever,” he mumbled, blushing again, not able to process the fact that Nick might have been flirting with Charlie for ages. “Then on New Year’s Eve, we were standing there together and–”
“And you kissed at midnight?” Anita exclaimed, pulling her hands to her chest in excited little fists.
“Actually, no,” Charlie said, remembering the plummeting devastation when Nick had pressed that kiss to his cheek instead of his lips. “It was later, in our room.”
“‘Our room’?!” Anita yelped, then seemed to remember herself, quieting herself to a scolding whisper. “Have you been sharing a room this whole time? And you failed to tell me that?”
“No!” Charlie protested. “It was because there were so many people and Nick was going to sleep on the floor and Amy said that my bed was actually two beds and–”
“I don’t even care,” Anita breathed, her eyes sparkling at him. “What happened in your little Hallmark Christmas movie ‘only one bed’ trope?”
Charlie laughed and took a long breath, remembering the terror and elation. “I told him… I told him that I wish he hadn’t just kissed me on the cheek,” he said softly, looking down. “Then he kissed me. Like, actually kissed me.” He looked up and was startled to see Anita’s eyes bright with tears, her lips pressed together. “Oh god, are you okay?”
“Yes, fine,” Anita said, waving away his concern and sniffling. “I’m just… I’m thinking about how much you deserve this, Charlie. I’m just so happy for you. I know that with Ben, you didn’t…” she trailed off, her eyebrows creased. “Well, it just didn’t feel like he made you happy enough.”
“Oh,” Charlie replied, his throat tight. He swallowed once, then again. There is enough, so ask for more. Those words, the ones that had been a salve in Charlie’s veins, wrapped themselves around his heart like a protective cocoon. “I… thanks,” he finished lamely, not sure how to express everything in his heart.
Anita didn’t reply at first, just patting his hand and clearing her throat. “Okay, enough of that,” she said with a chuckle. “Now tell me every single detail, as well as a plausible story about bookmaps gone awry that I can use as a cover story for when we go back in.”
Charlie smiled to himself, thinking of the way Nick would have probably made some pun about cover stories being entirely appropriate to bookmaps. That man. That man and his highly contagious use of puns. Instead of being rueful about his new pun affliction, this time Charlie just marinated in it. It means that they had spent so much time together that Charlie had soaked up elements of who Nick was.
As Charlie started to tell Anita more of what happened with Nick, his whole body was warm and glowing, filled with the joy of the previous few days. At once point Charlie glanced at her and saw a beaming smile on her face, and it felt like he was looking in a mirror. Charlie was happier than he had perhaps ever been in his life.
-
All week at work, Charlie carried a baton of brightness in his chest that even the worst icebreakers and vision-statement-drafting workshops couldn’t dampen. The messages between him and Nick flew back and forth, flowing smoothly and sweetly. There was no waiting and wondering, only the unmitigated joy of opening his phone and seeing a message from Nick first thing in the morning.
That word – flirty – kept popping into Charlie’s head. He truly didn’t know if Nick had been flirting with him, or if he had, when it had started as being intentional. Moreso, Charlie guessed that Nick had been struggling with understanding his sexuality and trying to make sense of the feelings he had for Charlie.
The feelings he had for Charlie.
That was still astonishing. It was staggering to think that this entire time, Nick had been wanting like Charlie had been wanting. Well, maybe not exactly as Charlie had been wanting, as Charlie’s wantings sometimes veered into a deeply carnal realm. Nick seemed content to take things slow, something that Charlie was still adjusting to. He was used to the pressure to offer something to his partners and prove that he was worth being with. With Nick, there didn’t seem to be any of that. There was just… them, for lack of a better way of saying it. Charlie had often felt like the men he’d dated were islands, and he was always circling on a small boat, trying hard to find mooring. With Nick, Charlie authentically felt like it was… them. It was the two of them together, figuring things out.
All that said, Charlie now spotted some brilliant, thrilling moments where it seemed as though Nick was actually being flirty. It wasn’t anything over the top or obvious, but little things. Little jokes between them that they had shared about the cows. Selfies where Nick had a hint of that half grin on his face, the one that undid Charlie. Charlie missed Nick so badly that it hurt his heart, but those moments of seeing Nick’s messages popping up on his phone made him utterly delighted. Udderly. Oh, Christ. Pun contagion was not only real, but also communicable over technology, too.
Charlie had been staying at Darcy and Tara’s while they were caravaning around, still on holiday. It was nice to have the space to spread out, something that he lacked when he stayed with Elle and Tao (though Charlie deeply appreciated their generosity). Despite the space, he had missed spending time with the two of them, and was glad when Friday rolled around and they came to meet him at Tara and Darcy’s place for takeaway and a film.
Elle wrapped Charlie in a tight embrace when she and Tao arrived, hugging him close and murmuring about how happy he looked. They’d spoken on Wednesday evening on the phone, Elle letting him gush as they both walked home from work. He’d told her the whole story – the conversation with Nick and how they’d agreed to just like each other for now, the conversations they’d had, and just how wonderful Nick was. They’d spoken for over half an hour, and Charlie realised only after they’d ended the call just how genuinely good it felt to talk about a partner. Not partner, Charlie’s brain had chided him. That was Charlie being obsessive and clingy. Still – even though Nick wasn’t his partner, it still felt novel and wonderful to speak so openly about someone who made him immeasurably happy instead of avoiding speaking about a person who made him shamefully sad.
Most of the evening passed without Nick coming up once, something Charlie noticed but didn’t attempt to broach. He and Elle had talked at length about all of it over the phone, and Charlie was trying to take his cues from Tao when it came to Nick, still remembering the crashing reality of the moment when they’d kissed in front of everyone. Charlie had been a bit annoyed with Tao, but after some reflection, he realised that a lot of that annoyance was with himself. He was entirely aware of how soon it was after Ben. Charlie had counted the days, reflecting that he’d only been single for three months. 96 days. If Charlie had Googled when to start dating after an engagement ends, he bet he would have found recommendations ranging from six to eighteen months. (He actually did know that because he had in fact Googled it many, many times.)
Still, there was a part of Charlie that protested against that. Yes, numerically he had only been apart from Ben for 96 days, but it felt like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime and also an entirely different Charlie. The Charlie he was now felt both like someone knew, yet also someone he used to know. It was the oddest feeling, like he could step outside his body and see who he was now. He was still Charlie and all that being Charlie entailed: he still loved the drums, his brain liked to wrap itself into knots of worry, and his close relationships were the most important thing in his life. All of those had been throughlines since he’d been young, but certain aspects of who he was had been dulled or sharpened during his time with Ben. Charlie’s relationships and love for the things he cared about suffered, while his anxiety had thrived, fed by Ben’s withholding.
Now, three months later, Charlie felt more himself than he had been for the last few years, but maybe more himself than he ever had been. He was so much clearer now on what he wanted, how he felt, and what he cared about. And Nick… god. Nick was not only someone he wanted and cared about, but also someone who cared about how Charlie felt. It may have been only a full business quarter since Charlie met Nick, but it also felt like Charlie’s gone through a lifetime of evolution in Nick’s presence. He was happier. He was more trusting – though that was coming slowly. Charlie was more present, more fun, and more open as a result of being around Nick.
He was also learning about what he needed in a relationship. And the most incredible part – Charlie learned what he needed through getting to experience someone as tender, caring, and fucking fit as Nick Nelson.
The evening with Elle and Tao was genuinely fun, and it almost felt as though they were back at uni. They laughed until their stomachs hurt, joking and rinsing one another, though it was all wrapped in a blanket of affection. Charlie even half-enjoyed the film, a baffling but interesting one called The Lighthouse. Tao was thrilled when Charlie asked him to explain a few things about it, and the three of them continued drinking and talking late into the evening.
It wasn’t until just before Tao and Elle left that Nick finally came up. Charlie was standing up and stretching as they gathered their things to leave, all three of them beginning to drift towards the door.
“So, Charlie,” Tao said abruptly, looking at him and then at Elle. She inclined her head at an angle, and Tao softened his tone. “Charlie.”
Charlie glanced between the two of them, then realised that clearly, they’d spoken before this. Tao had probably wanted to say his piece, and Elle had likely checked whatever he was going to say. Charlie felt a stab of annoyed fondness: annoyance that they’d spoken behind his back, and fondness that Tao had bothered to talk to Elle beforehand to make sure he wasn’t too Tao. “Yeah?” Charlie asked, heart quickening just a bit.
Tao took a breath. “You seem happy,” he said, shifting a little as if uncomfortable. “That makes me happy.”
Charlie had to giggle at Tao’s unnatural stiffness, and bent his arms to look like a robot. “You-are-happy-I-am-happy,” he monotoned, and both Elle and Tao laughed too.
“Fuck off,” Tao said, pushing at Charlie’s shoulder lightly. He met Charlie’s eyes, and Charlie saw the shift in his face, some tension broken. “I am happy for you,” he said, nodding tightly. “You deserve to be happy.” Tao looked at Elle again, then back at Charlie. “You’re a good person and you haven’t always been with people who’ve treated you nicely.” Tao winced as though he had mild indigestion. “Nick seems… nice,” he said flatly, and Charlie had to suppress a grin, though he was still feeling apprehensive.
“He is,” Charlie replied, meeting Tao’s eyes.
Tao raised a finger “He doesn’t seem like a bad guy–”
“Ringing endorsement,” Charlie muttered with a grin.
Tao smiled briefly, but it faded. “Like I said, he doesn’t seem like a total dicknozzle, but… he is, like – high profile, you know?”
Charlie’s breath caught in his chest, condensing into a cold ball and sinking into his stomach. “How do you mean?”
“I’ve been Googling him a bit,” Tao said, glancing at Elle as if for approval again before looking at Charlie. “He’s a professional athlete – or was at least. I know there are a few other players on his team who are queer, but I’d think coming out as someone in rugby would be harder.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said quietly. He knew it would be.
“Are you okay with living quietly?” Tao asked, and Charlie could hear genuine concern in his tone. “Are you okay with needing to stay hidden?”
“Yes,” Charlie replied immediately. He’d reflected on this many times, even when he was just fantasising about Nick. He knew that Nick might not be ready to come out publicly for years – or maybe ever. He knew that being with Nick could mean never being out publicly, and that would be okay if Charlie were lucky enough to be with him for any length of time. It would.
“Are you really, though?” Tao asked again, eyebrows furrowed. “With only being together in private? Like it was with…” he trailed off, catching the look on Charlie’s face.
“It’s not like that,” said Charlie, a bit more loudly than he intended. Then he took a breath, calming himself. He knew what Tao was getting at. It had prickled at the back of his brain, wondering if he’d spiral back into the same gutting lows that he had in the first year with Ben – that is, if Charlie was lucky enough to continue to be with Nick. He’d thought about that, and realised that he would take any life with Nick. To have even Nick’s quiet love for any stretch of time would be more than a lifetime with any other man he’d been with. Not love, his brain interrupted sharply. Affection, maybe. It had been 96 days. Nick wasn’t in love with Charlie after 96 days.
“I am,” Charlie said in a softer voice, and some of the anxiety that had tightened Tao’s face relaxed. “I promise, I really, really am.”
“Well,” said Tao, nodding as if they’d completed a serious business deal. “Good.”
Charlie grinned weakly, some of the anxiety draining out of his body. “Does this mean I can expect you two to become besties? Should I get you one of those BFF lockets that split in half?”
Tao rolled his eyes and the familiar gesture cleared all of the heaviness from Charlie’s chest. He laughed and pulled Tao into an embrace, the two of them hugging fiercely before letting go. Charlie waved his friends off after saying goodbye to Elle, too. He had forgotten how brilliant it felt to just be with the two of them, regardless of the slightly heavy topic at the end of the night. They were some of his chosen family, and Charlie was endlessly grateful for them.
-
Charlie lay in bed on Sunday night. He’d had a glass of sherry over FaceTime with Darcy and Tara, the two girls demanding every detail about Nick now that they had service again. His mind was floaty, though as usual, it constantly drifted back to Nick. God, Charlie couldn’t wait to be back with Nick. He thought of Nick’s warm body, his warm smile. His warm thighs, and that warm space between them that Charlie hadn’t gotten to explore yet. Charlie swallowed hard and took out his phone, pulling up Nick’s contact. He hesitated, wanting to tell Nick he was excited to see him in a few days but not wanting to come on too strong. Charlie took a breath and tapped out a message, the idea of Nick’s warmth still swirling around him.
cfspring: omg i am so ready to be back at lf
cfspring: it’s cold as fuck here
Nick started typing almost immediately, and that same glowing feeling spread throughout Charlie’s body.
LF Nick: Shit, I hate to break it to you springtime
LF Nick: But LF does happen to also be cold too as it is in the same geographical general locale as London and not in fact in Fiji
Charlie grinned, clutching his phone to his chest before replying.
cfspring: i know, i put something about that on one of the comment cards
cfspring: damn, Nelson, don’t you listen to guest feedback?
Charlie paused, his thumbs hovering over the phone. He missed Nick. He missed Nick. Nick seemed to be so open about how he felt and what he was thinking, and Charlie’s chest fluttered, thinking about being open with Nick. He decided to mask a little flirtation under the guise of humour and tapped out a message, holding his breath as he hit send.
cfspring: at least at LF there are multiple heat sources. fireplace, central heating…you
Nick started typing immediately, and Charlie felt his heart rate spike as the dots danced, taunting him. He felt weak with relief when Nick replied with… perhaps some flirtation of his own?
LF Nick: I have been told I am an excellent human blanket
LF Nick: At least that’s what all of the guests this week have told me
Charlie laughed aloud and let his head drop back on the pillow. He smiled at his phone, held aloft over his face, and sent two messages in quick succession.
cfspring: [gif: 30 Rock Tracy Jordan “Gasp!]
cfspring: and i thought it was just me - i should have known you’re just blanketing people for 5 star ratings
LF Nick: lol
LF Nick: I have to say though…
There was a brief pause where Nick was typing, the dots disappeared, and then he was typing again. The sherry was dancing through Charlie’s veins, making him feel warm and jittery.
LF Nick: I’m afraid, Charlie.
Charlie’s heart barely even had time to drop when the next message came in from Nick, the burgeoning nerves immediately chased away by Nick’s silliness.
LF Nick: I’m afraid of what the ghosts might do when you come back
LF Nick: What if they’re still angry about the portrait breaking and they try to haunt me
Charlie laughed again, and his stomach tightened in tingly memory, remembering the evening. They’d gotten back from the restaurant and had kissed passionately against the wall. Charlie had even felt… Nick that night, and the memories of their last night before Charlie left made his breath quicken. He shook his head to try to dislodge the naughty thoughts that were dashing across his brain with cheeky grins, going back to their messages.
cfspring: omg i forgot we killed murdery marvin
cfspring: though I blame you for that tbh
LF Nick: Um excuse me sir, I’m not the curly-locked temptress who looked amazing that evening.
Charlie froze, genuinely confused. He started typing, then stopped.
…Temptress?
Looked amazing?
Charlie read Nick’s message three or four times, one corner of his mouth ticking up despite the genuine bafflement sluggishly boiling in his brain. Nick was… he was still being silly. That’s what it was. It was Nick still just being his silly, light self. Charlie deleted his first message, typed again, then deleted again. While he was still trying to think of what to write, another message appeared.
LF Nick: Like, what if HSE comes round and they find out I am sleeping solo? When I know the risks of solitary slumber? Just saying, when you get back, I think we could consider sleeping in a pack.
Now the smile fully spread over Charlie’s face, taking over his features. Nick wanted to share a bed. Then Charlie blushed a bit, realising that he had assumed they’d still share a bed. He felt a familiar twinge of shame at how he had made future plans while the man in question carried on cluelessly with his life, unaware of the narrative Charlie was creating. At least this had happened over messages, where Nick couldn't see his embarrassment. Charlie recovered and sent a series of messages back, feeling a bit better as he did.
cfspring: that is a reasonable fear
cfspring: both the haunting and the risk of an unmitigated safety inspection
cfspring: i would never want to do anything that endangers sarah nelson’s perfect 5-star rating
LF Nick: Uh, excuse me? I have been MAINTAINING Lavender Fields; what about my 5-star rating?!
cfspring: eh
LF Nick: LOL
Charlie smiled, his chest warm and buzzing again. In just a few days, he’d be back home, back in Nick’s arms.
cfspring: i think you have a point, yes. maybe when I get back on tuesday we should sleep in the same bed. for safety.
LF Nick: For safety.
LF Nick: But what do I do in the meantime 😰
Another warm wave of happiness swept through Charlie. Nick’s messages implied that he missed Charlie. Charlie thought quickly, then giggled as he looked through his iPhotos folder. He found the file he wanted and attached it.
cfspring: here, use this
cfspring: [image: C.Spring.Headshot]
LF Nick: LOL OMG is this your LinkedIn picture?
cfspring: hahaha yes. tape it to your pillow and pretend it's me for a few days until i get back, i think portrait people can only see in two dimensions so they’ll easily be tricked
cfspring: it’ll work. it’s foolproof. or you might lose your soul. It’s like a 50-50 tossup
Charlie grinned up at his phone as he clutched it in bed, waiting for Nick’s response. One of his favourite, small things about Nick is how Nick made every joke feel comfortable. There was no eye rolling, neither physically or implied through a delayed, terse message back. Nick was always an equal partner in humour, and Charlie loved that. He waited for Nick’s response, bracing himself for some soul-associated punning.
LF Nick: I miss snuggling you at night
LF Nick: I miss kissing you
A few seconds had ticked by and Charlie was still frozen, eyes scanning over Nick’s words again and again.
I miss snuggling you.
I miss kissing you.
(I miss you)
He blinked, trying to reconcile the moment. Here was a man who Charlie cared about that was just… giving. Nick was giving him affection and kindness and admitting that he actually missed Charlie. It was all so staggeringly disorienting that it took Charlie several seconds to realise that Nick was waiting for a response. Charlie had made the mistake of sending a message like that to Ben (and others) before learning what honesty and vulnerability really earned back. He started typing frantically, worrying that Nick had been left spinning and hanging like Charlie had in so many message exchanges.
cfspring: i do too
cfspring: i miss waking up with you
Charli’s heart thumped with the boldness of his message, but Nick replied almost immediately.
LF Nick: I miss your laugh
cfspring: i miss your hugs
LF Nick: I miss your hands
The tip of Charlie’s tongue was between his teeth as he grinned like a lovesick dope, rocking back and forth like his body couldn’t handle how gleeful he felt. Nick was being so open and flirty and Charlie could be too.
cfspring: I miss your… buns
cfspring: 😅
Charlie waited to hear back from Nick, almost nauseated with giddiness. When the response came in, Charlie swallowed hard.
LF Nick: You don’t even know how sweet these buns are yet 😘
Charlie let out a soft sound, a low sigh tinged with a tugging ache in his low belly.
cfspring: no, i don’t
cfspring: not yet
cfspring: …
cfspring: [Katherine Hahn ‘wink’.gif]
There was a brief pause before Nick responded, but Charlie felt less terrified than he would have been a week, a day, or even an hour ago. This whole conversation was just another reminder of how giving and open Nick was. And then Nick sent yet another heartstopping message.
LF Nick: God, I cannot wait to see you
LF Nick: Do you think if I go on a run tomorrow and, like, go really fast and push my feet really hard I can make the planet spin faster and then you’ll be here sooner?
Charlie laughed aloud yet again and typed out a response, his phone bouncing as his thumbs flew over the keyboard.
cfspring: lol yes, that is one hundred percent scientifically sound yes. and i once edited a queer scifi novel so i definitely know what i’m talking about
LF Nick: I am going to set the world’s first sub-two minute mile record.
cfspring: lol
Charlie glanced at the clock – it was already half nine. Not late at all, really, but late for Nick, who got up unreasonably early.
cfspring: can’t wait to see you too
cfspring: it’s past your bedtime old man
LF Nick: LOL, you dick. I hate to admit that I was just literally typing that I was going to go to bed soon.
cfspring: you don’t want to miss antiques roadshow tonight, i heard there’s a vase that is to die for
Charlie grinned, beaming alone in his room with the glow of his phone lighting up his face. He was continually amazed by Nick. How could someone so popular, funny, and charming also be so friendly, welcoming, and hilarious? It was so unfair. Charlie recalled the game The Sims, where there was a set number of points that could be assigned to various character traits for each person created. For example, Charlie might have given one of his Sims a lot of points in charisma and humour, but given almost no points to athletic ability. Nick must have discovered some sort of cheat code for the game of life, able to max out every single trait.
LF Nick: Okay wow
LF Nick: I’ll be the one laughing when I inevitably find a Matisse in the barn and make bank on AR
LF Nick: (that’s a cooler, shorter way to say Antiques Roadshow for us in the know)
cfspring: lol omg Nick
cfspring: okay, go to bed
Charlie smiled at his phone, imagining where Nick was. He figured that Nick was already in bed, laying on his side and messaging with one hand the way Charlie had seen him do many times before. Charlie missed seeing Nick. He missed Nick. He could… Charlie could say that to Nick without fear of how it might be used against him. He took a deep breath and hit send.
cfspring: miss you
It was nearly instantaneous when Nick replied back.
LF Nick: I miss you, too ❤️
Smiling and melting, Charlie clicked off his phone and put it to the side, curling into a ball and wrapping his arms around himself like it was Nick holding him. Even though his eyes were closed, he could still see that red heart, beaming through the darkness and lighting up his life.
-
Tori had a ratty collection of books called Little House on the Prairie when she was young, gifted by an American cousin. Charlie remembered one week when he’d been grounded by his parents and was at home, desperate for any sort of entertainment. He’d read one of them, with many chapters filled with details about the family’s long slog in a covered wagon, the trip taking months. Today, Charlie felt like he was in that book for the entire journey to Lavender Fields, the miles trickling by in a horrifically slow fashion.
After nineteen weeks (give or take), Charlie finally pulled into the drive, his stomach having squeezed into an excited knot as he drew closer and closer. That anticipation and delight only heightened when Charlie saw Nick waiting for him, bouncing on his toes in the car park. Charlie laughed aloud when Nick yanked open the car door, pulling Charlie out and bundling him in his arms.
Charlie smiled, sighed, and snuggled closer in Nick’s embrace, finally feeling as though he was where he was supposed to be again. Nick was holding him tightly, only letting go so that they could kiss, their mouths meeting in what began as a soft touch. As soon as their lips met, though, it was like a dam burst in Charlie’s chest, all of his pent-up longing and desire from the last week rushing forward. Nick let out a soft sound and they clutched at each other as well as they possibly could, wrapped in so many layers. Far too soon, Nick drew back and looked at Charlie with an expression that almost exactly mirrored Tao’s pictures, nearly melting him.
“I missed you,” Nick said, looking at Charlie and not averting his gaze. “I missed you being here every day.”
It was as if Charlie’s body now couldn’t choose between melting and freezing, and he clutched at Nick’s arms, amazed that this was actually real and not just a dream. He looked timidly at Nick, almost afraid that if he spoke too loudly, he’d wake up. “I… I missed you too.”
“Yeah?” asked Nick softly as he pulled Charlie into his chest and rocked them side to side, swaying in the car park.
“Yeah.” Charlie burrowed deeper into Nick’s arms, the cold biting through his jacket and chilling him.
“Fuck, sorry, inside!” exclaimed Nick, rubbing Charlie’s back. Charlie distantly realised he was shivering, though he’d been too distracted by the feeling of Nick’s body against his own to care. “Are you hungry? I made food…”
Charlie smiled as Nick pulled his rucksack from his grasp and they walked to the house, asking Charlie considerate questions about the drive. Once they were inside, Nick nearly threw Charlie's bag across the floor and pulled him in roughly by the coat, drawing them close together again. Their chests were touching and Charlie wrapped his arms around Nick to try to get their bodies as connected as he wanted them to be, pulling in for another spectacular kiss. Charlie didn’t know if he could get his body as close to Nick’s as he wanted, definitely not with the amount of clothes he had on.
Nick broke their kiss with a sigh and pulled back. Their faces stayed close to one another, foreheads nearly touching.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
They both laughed softly at their overlapping greetings, and Charlie gazed at Nick’s face. God, he was so happy to see Nick again. He was so happy to be here again. Everything felt familiar, comfortable, and safe. Nick grinned at Charlie, and Charlie smiled back, almost overwhelmed at how happy he was.
“I’m glad you’re finally back,” Nick said.
Charlie nodded before responding. “It’s so good to be h–” He stopped himself before he majorly fucked up, swallowing away the word home. Yeah, telling a man that you’ve slept in a bed with “twice” that he felt like home would be a great idea. Charlie reached out to touch a lock of Nick’s hair, smoothing it into place. “It’s so good to be here again.”
Nick’s face was close as he murmured into Charlie’s ear. “I’m so glad you are here again.” He pulled away slightly and nodded toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” Nick asked again. “I made a pasta and then I made a dessert and–”
Charlie laughed, then kissed Nick to stop him before Nick said that he “found” a bottle of vintage port to go with dessert in the barn as well. Despite how warm and happy Charlie felt, there was a tiny tug of something dark in his stomach, something old and insistent. Nick and Charlie had been flirty over messages, and Charlie thought that tonight might… well, things could happen. If they were naked, that would firstly mean that yes, Charlie’s entire life would peak at the experience of seeing Nick Nelson starkers. It would mean that, but it would also mean that Nick would see him naked. Nick would see the body that had taunted and needled at Charlie’s mind for so many years, and the idea of eating slightly turned his stomach. He took a deep breath and nodded, remembering some of the work he’d done with his childhood therapist and current one. “I’ll have a little,” he said. It was entirely worth it to see Nick’s face light up, pulling Charlie to the kitchen to serve supper.
Charlie had eaten dinner with a fair amount of friends when he was in London that week, and it had been wonderful. He’d caught up with a lot of people, including Elle and Tao, and enjoyed good food and good conversations. However, there was nothing like being with Nick for dinner, especially after what had happened on Charlie's last visit. There were so many types of love that Charlie knew a person could receive from different relationships and people. There was the love that came from close friendships, the love that came from romantic pairings, the lustful love that came from desire, and the comfortable love of being around familiar things. It was amazing to realise that there was a person that he could get all of those types of love from.
Though again, this wasn’t love, Charlie reminded himself before his brain could snarl at him. This was new and fun and exciting, but not love, not even close to yet. Not for Nick, at least. They laughed and spoke about everything, and Charlie’s appetite cautiously nosed back out, tempted by the cranberry bars that Nick ate. They were delicious and rich with notes of Muscovado sugar and cinnamon.
That cinnamon was even more delicious on Nick’s lips, locked on Charlie’s as they snogged passionately in the kitchen. It had started off perfectly innocently, Charlie following Nick to help with the dishes. It wasn’t his fault that Nick looked so good bent over the dishwasher, and not his fault when Nick whipped around to look at him. It might have been his fault that the reason Nick turned was because Charlie let out a small noise of appreciation looking at the perfect arse in front of him, bent over arranging the plates. Regardless of whose fault it was (Nick’s), Charlie was now on the worktop with his legs wrapped around Nick’s waist, the two of them tangled around each other. It wasn’t until the creak of a board above them that Charlie remembered that this was in fact a functioning bed and breakfast, and Nick pulled back with a soft, long sigh.
“Do you…” Nick’s breath was a little ragged, and it did things to Charlie’s low belly. “Would you still like to share a bed?” There was a pause. “With me?”
Charlie burst out laughing, legs still around Nick. “Yes, you absolute numpty. I very much want to share a bed with you.” Their hips were close and Charlie had felt the brush of Nick against him a moment ago, not fully aroused but enough to make Charlie’s mouth water. Charlie dropped his voice, giving words to the lust he’d battled for so long. “I want to share a lot with you.”
Nick’s response was hilariously immediate. “Do you – my room? Your room?”
“Is… huh.” Charlie paused. He'd been assuming his room, but now he remembered that there were other people in the house. It might look odd to have Nick darting in and out of his room for the other guests. And truly, more than anything, Charlie didn't want Nick to be exposed. He drew back a little from Nick, thinking now that it was stupid of him to be so brazenly affectionate with Nick in an open space like this. “There are guests here, yeah?”
“Yeah,” replied Nick, though his breath seemed to hitch when Charlie traced his fingers through his hair before pulling his hand back. Nick closed his eyes and winced. “I, uh - I moved the mattress in my room to the basement and bought a new one. So it feels like only my room. Not my mum’s.”
Charlie blinked, not understanding. Then–
Sex.
Holy fucking genitals Nick was talking about sex and he didn’t want to do naughty sex things in his mum’s bed.
Charlie burst out laughing, drawing irresistibly back to Nick and resting their foreheads together. “Oh, god. “I wouldn’t have even…”
Nick gasped. “Oh god, did I make it weird by even telling you I did that? Were you not thinking about it as my mum’s room and I just made you do that now? Oh god, I am the unsexiest innkeeper alive!”
“No, you are among the top 400 sexiest innkeepers in England,” Charlie giggled, so utterly in love with this man. He paused, his menace energy tank filling up. “Well,” Charlie pretended to consider. “Maybe in the south of England, at least.”
“Well, then. My room is closer,” Nick said while trailing his mouth down Charlie’s neck, making Charlie gasp. Oh – oh. Oh, this was incredible. Charlie’s back arched without his willing participation and then Nick gently sucked on Charlie’s throat, making him moan. Nick’s voice was a low sound against his skin. “And more private.”
“I want that.” The words spilled out of Charlie’s throat as he clutched at Nick’s arms, the simmering heat from this week erupting into crackling fire. Charlie yelped a little when Nick scooped him off the counter and carried him into his room, dropping Charlie on the bed. Charlie laughed as Nick gave him a wink, backtracking to lock both the door to the house and the bedroom.
“No ghosties in here,” said Nick solemnly.
Charlie snorted, grinning. “Good call. Their lack of corporeal form will definitely be hindered by a door lock.”
“Two door locks,” Nick corrected.
“Ah. My mistake.”
Charlie was laying on the bed, the muscles of his inner thighs quivering in delicious, agonising anticipation. Nick stood above him for a moment more, his eyes raking over Charlie before he moved, dropping to the bed on all fours and slinking forward until he was hovering above Charlie. Charlie tried to stop himself from arching up to entice Nick closer when Nick dropped down, kissing Charlie and making him moan. This time Charlie couldn’t stop himself and his hips thrust up to meet Nick’s body, pulling at Nick’s back to draw him closer.
It felt fucking incredible to have Nick laying on him, his weight pressing Charlie into the mattress. It wasn’t too crushing (Charlie guessed Nick was holding himself up), and felt like the contact that Charlie had been craving for the last seven nights. It only briefly satisfied him – then that stopped being enough and Charlie wanted even more. He wrapped his arms around Nick and partially lifted himself as they kissed and groaned against each other, Nick’s hands travelling up and down Charlie’s body, smoothing over his shirt and down the sides of his thighs, making Charlie whimper. Charlie ran his hands up Nick’s sides and felt the muscles that rippled over Nick’s ribs. Charlie wanted to touch Nick. He wanted to worship Nick’s body the way that Nick deserved and give Nick all of the pleasure that he could. Charlie tugged at the hem of Nick’s jumper and its hideous, hateful shrouding of the perfect body underneath.
“This,” Charlie said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. “Will you take this off?”
“Yeah,” breathed Nick, sitting back to strip off his sweater and revealing his solid, strong torso. He leaned forward again and his fingers brushed Charlie’s belly, making him shiver. “Can I…?”
Charlie’s stomach froze in that familiar, ancient dread. Nick was going to see him shirtless. It would happen at some point, he supposed, and it would be better to know now if his body disgusted Nick. He nodded and Nick slowly tugged the henley off, casting it aside and then looking down at Charlie. Charlie held his breath, seized with the terror that Nick would finally see him now – see what Charlie actually looked like and know that he could do better than Charlie. But Nick… he just made a sound and then leaned down to kiss Charlie’s stomach, making Charlie tense up. Nick shifted as though pulling back, but Charlie gently tugged his fingers in Nick’s hair, trying to breathe.
It’s all right. You’re safe. Nick is safe. This is safe.
Charlie repeated that to himself a few times and soon the apprehension was gone, evaporated by the heat of Nick’s mouth and hands on Charlie’s skin. Nick travelled all over Charlie’s torso, stopping to drop hot kisses and making Charlie shudder in delight. He pulled Nick closer, and Nick again leaned some of his weight on Charlie, the pressure on his body divine. As they kissed and writhed around with each other, the heat continued to build in Charlie’s body. Amy has once hilariously told Charlie that Danny called arousal a “crotch headache”, and he thought he understood what that meant now. Charlie authentically ached for Nick, and he could feel the pounding of his heart in his dick. The sounds Nick was making were not helping, his moans and growling grunts almost bone-dissolving. Bone-dissolving, yes. Boner-dissolving – not so much. Charlie was incredibly hard, so much that it almost hurt.
When Nick finally pulled back again, Charlie kissed up Nick’s neck, letting his free hand travel down Nick’s spine. He hesitantly drew his fingers around Nick’s back, resting on the waistline of the joggers that hung low on Nick’s hips. Nick let out a little gasp and Charlie stopped entirely, looking at Nick and needing to know if Nick wanted the same things he did.
“Can I…?” Charlie began, before swallowing and licking his lips. Nick tracked his mouth, eyes darting down to Charlie’s lips before their eyes met again. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes,” Nick said immediately in a throaty voice that made Charlie worry his dick might burst like an over-pumped balloon. “Ah, fuck,” Nick breathed, and Charlie immediately stopped, his thumbs hovering under Nick’s waistline. “I, uh – all I have on are the joggers,” he said sheepishly. Charlie looked hopefully at Nick’s joggers, willing himself to spontaneously develop X-ray vision. “And nothing underneath.”
“That’s…” Charlie paused, swallowing against the aching, intense desire he felt. “That’s definitely okay with me. If it’s okay with you.”
Nick smiled and smoothed back one of Charlie’s curls. “It’s okay with me. Do you…would you feel comfortable taking yours off, too? Trousers and pants, or just trousers – or nothing, too,” Nick added, maybe clocking the slight tremor of anxiety through Charlie’s body. “You don’t have to take off anything.”
“Yeah,” said Charlie automatically, but then actually checked in with himself. He did feel okay. He felt desired. He felt safe. “I do feel… comfortable.”
There was a hovering half-second before they both slowly started to pull off their clothes. Charlie undressed more quickly than Nick and then lay on his back, his heart pounding in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and then turned his head to look at Nick.
Nick was…
Nick was so gorgeous. He was gorgeous. Charlie let his eyes trail over Nick’s body, astounded that this man was lying here with him. Nick’s body was freckled and strong, his skin a mixture of tanned patches from working outside and breathtakingly pale patches, the ones that few parts of the world were privileged enough to see. Nick’s thighs were heavily muscled, and Charlie had to swallow back a moan of lust. And between Nick’s thighs… fucking hell. Nick was hard and his dick was even more incredible than Charlie could have imagined (and in fact had imagined many times after Googling ‘Nick Nelson grey shorts running’ while on an Incognito tab). Charlie’s breath caught as he realised that he might actually get to be with Nick and touch him… everywhere.
Then Nick’s head turned to face Charlie’s, and Charlie braced himself for Nick fully seeing him. He tried to relax his face and smiled softly at Nick, who reached out a gentle hand, touching Charlie’s side. Charlie inhaled sharply, though not just from Nick’s touch, which felt heavenly and electric. That wasn’t what jolted Charlie so abruptly and careened his world off its axis. It was the way Nick was looking at him. Nick was looking at him – all of him – in the way…
In the way that Charlie was looking at Nick.
“Hey,” said Nick gently, eyes meeting Charlie’s. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Charlie whispered, though he felt shaky in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Are you?”
A slow smile spread over Nick’s face. “Uh, yeah,” he grinned. “You? In bed with me, starkers? Yeah, I’m okay.”
Charlie laughed quietly, then his breath caught again at the expression on Nick’s face. Nick slid closer and drew his hand down to grip Charlie’s hip, the fingers against his skin almost undoing any of Charlie’s remaining mental faculties. Charlie’s eyes fluttered shut as Nick’s fingers roamed down his thigh, drifting to his calves and then back up. It was almost – if Ben had been doing this, Charlie would have felt like he was being inspected, like a piece of meat. The way Nick was doing it felt… well, entirely different, but in a way Charlie still couldn’t parse.
Charlie watched as Nick continued to trail his fingers up and down Charlie’s body, making him shiver. Then Nick drew his head level with Charlie’s and smiled, running his fingers through Charlie’s hair. “God, Charlie,” he said, fingers drawing along Charlie’s scalp and making him moan. “You are… you are so beautiful, Charlie.”
Beautiful?
Charlie’s eyes flew open and let out a nervous half-laugh. “What?”
“You’re so beautiful, Charlie,” Nick repeated. “You. Everything about you. You are gorgeous. I forgot how gorgeous your face was until I got to see it again, and your body…” Nick shook his head as if in awe. “You are absolutely beautiful. Inside and out. All of you.”
Charlie was reeling. Nick was… what did Nick see? He almost felt inexplicably embarrassed. Embarrassed for Nick, almost. Was there, like, something wrong with him? Nick’s eyes were still on him, looking over Charlie’s body like he was shocked that he got to be here with Charlie. It was dizzying and it felt like the world had unexpectedly lurched. Swallowing down the odd, squirmy, shame-adjacent feeling, Charlie let Nick’s words rattle around his brain.
Gorgeous.
Beautiful.
Those words felt almost – almost wrong, being said about Charlie. But Nick wasn’t… he wasn’t generally wrong. He wasn’t stupid. How did Nick see him so differently to Ben? How did Nick see him so differently than the other men who had seen Charlie, the ones who had taken the briefest of glances before hurrying up and getting down to business?
And there it was. Maybe this wasn’t a Nick thing. Maybe this was… Charlie’s breath caught as he thought about all of the people he had dated, the patterns coming into stark clarity. He had dated men who had treated him as less-than, and that’s how Charlie had known that he was less-than. He could feel the sting of tears and he considered the idea of a man he was with treating him as an equal, even if Charlie still didn’t quite believe it himself.
Nick’s worried voice broke through his thoughts. “Oh my god, Charlie – I’m… I’m so sorry! Was that too much? Am I–”
“No,” Charlie groaned, jamming the heels of his hands into his eyes. He rubbed them and then looked at Nick – perfect, gorgeous, giving, caring Nick who was willingly naked with him? Naked, while Charlie fucking cried?? This was not the time for a fucking revelation. “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, I’m ruining this, you’re here and we’re together and I had so many things I wanted and you’re so fucking hot right now and I’m just ruining everything and…”
“Hey,” Nick said softly, pulling Charlie into his chest. Charlie’s breath quivered as he tried to breathe through the worst of it, trying to calm himself. “You’re not ruining anything,” said Nick gently. “I just – I’m so sorry, was it what I said?”
“No,” Charlie replied immediately, then gave a rueful laugh. “And yes?” Charlie shook his head, avoiding looking at Nick. “It’s nothing.” Nick made a small noise and squeezed Charlie on the shoulder as if to say – really?
“It’s not… okay,” Charlie conceded. “I mean…you’re…” He struggled with the words for a moment, trying to parse how much his beliefs about men, relationships, and love had shifted in the past three months. “You’re not real, Nick. You can’t be real.” Nick made another questioning sound and rubbed Charlie’s back, not drawing away. There it was again – Nick being so giving and patient. He was too hot for Charlie and too perfect and he wanted to do sex things with Charlie and Charlie was crying like a Year Eight in the bathroom. “You’re so perfect. You are this perfect, kind, incredibly attractive man, and I’m just… me.” Charlie’s voice broke, remembering the things Ben had told him he was. “I’m annoying and clingy and not good enough for you and I ended up here almost by accident and you’re so fucking incredible. And we’re finally alone and naked and I’m crying because you complimented me. You’re, like, perfect, and I’m ruining it!”
Charlie shut his eyes tightly to wait for when Nick would finally realise the imbalance between the two of them. He was surprised when Nick laughed, drawing back so Charlie had to look at him. “Charlie!’ he said, shaking his head. “There’s… god, there’s so much wrong with me. I’m not perfect at all. There are so many things that…”
Charlie blinked up at him, astounded as Nick trailed off. Nick thought there were things wrong with him? Was Nick confused? Maybe he was thinking of someone else.
Nick sighed, a complex look on his face, then it softened and he looked at Charlie again. “I wish I could make you see you how I do. I wish you could see how fucking amazing you are. How perfect you are. Until I do…” Nick cuddled him close again, kissing the side of Charlie’s head and making him tear up once more. “Well – I’ll just say this, then. I care about you so much, and I’m terrified of fucking anything up with you. Terrified. And clearly something’s coming up right now. Can we… can we talk about it?”
“God, you’re not real, Nick,” Charlie said with an incredulous laugh. His perfect main character struck again. Truly, Charlie would have rejected Nick as a lead character immediately. So, he’s fit and sensitive and open about communication and can bake and loves animals? Sure, Jan. Charlie slowly shook his head and looked at Nick. That fucking problematically perfect man traced the outline of Charlie’s lips with his finger, and Charlie’s mouth trembled. “You… you saying that I’m…” It was hard to say words that Charlie didn’t believe. “I’ve never been called that before.”
“Beautiful?” asked Nick, touching Charlie’s cheek, his tone soft.
“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice shook and Nick pulled him in close. “I’ve…” he took a deep breath. “I’ve had some history. With my body.” He said this acutely aware of his body, their naked skin pressed against each other. Charlie’s arousal had cooled, doused by his tears and the shock of being with someone who acted as though Charlie was good enough for him.
“Yeah?” asked Nick. “I – you…you can tell me, Charlie. I want you to tell me.” Charlie sighed softly. Nick was so good. He was so, so good. “I’m not going anywhere,” Nick said quietly. “There’s nothing you can say that would make me want to not stay here. With you. Every single thing I know about you is something I appreciate about you. Because it’s you, Charlie.”
Oh god. It was as though Nick could flip through the pages of Charlie’s brain, the lines hastily filled out in a frantic hand, anxiety scrawling over every page. It was as though Nick read all of the worries his brain was inventing, soothing the thoughts away before they could take root. Charlie took a long, trembling breath and then started to speak.
Charlie told Nick about when he was younger, and how he was the first gay boy in his school to be out. He told Nick about that process, the gutting period of time when lads covered their mouths when they walked past him so they didn’t “catch his gayness”. Nick’s arms tightened when Charlie told him about his first boyfriend, a Ben-like arsehole who hissed at him to not tell anyone at the conclusion of all of their dalliances.
They held each other as Charlie spoke about his eating disorder and the way he still thought about his body. As Charlie spoke, telling Nick endless things about himself that he’d successfully hidden from Ben for years, he could feel a part of him unravelling. It wasn’t as though he was coming undone, though - it was more as if Charlie had been knitted too tightly, the fabric gnarled and puckering in places. As Charlie laid himself bare in front of Nick and Nick didn’t pull away, Charlie felt as though those knots were loosened and he could breathe more easily.
Charlie cried when he told Nick he was scared that Nick would think he was weak, troubled, and too much to deal with. He cried harder when Nick instead softly told him that he didn’t see someone like that. He saw someone strong, resilient, sensitive, and introspective. Nick told him that he heard a person who had experienced hardships and turned himself into a kind, funny, thoughtful, wonderful human. He had frozen in shock when Nick cried, too, the two of them wrapped around each other.
They spoke about Nick’s family, and Charlie was nearly incandescent with rage to hear how Nick’s brother and father had been so cruel to this perfect, tender man. They spoke for hours, alternating between laughter and tears. It was by no means the night that Charlie had planned, and there was a part of him that still regretted he had brought any of this up. Still, there was a larger part that glowed more brightly, almost as though he’d been dimming things inside of him for fear that shedding light would make Nick turn away.
As they settled in bed to sleep, Charlie traced his fingers incredulously down Nick’s chest. Amazingly, he would have more nights with this man. He’d have more weeks with this man. And god, if Charlie was the luckiest human on Earth, maybe they’d have forever together.
Notes:
My peach tree is looking adorably peachy right now and I’m prepping with recipes for when they ripen. This one is great: Peach, corn, & quinoa salad. See you next week for Danny & James!
Salad Ingredients:
⅓ cup cooked quinoa
1 to 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt
Pepper
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
2 large tomatoes, chopped
3 peaches, sliced
3 ears of corn - cut off the kernels
3 tablespoons freshly chopped chivesVinaigrette ingredients:
1 c packed basil leaves
1 garlic clove, minced
1 T lemon juice
½ T apple cider vinegar
Salt
Pepper
⅓ c olive oilMake the basil vinaigrette - put all of the ingredients in a blender or food processor. You can also make this the night before.
Toast the quinoa: Melt 1 T butter in a nonstick pan over medium heat. Add the quinoa, salt, and pepper. Toss the quinoa until it’s golden and crispy. Add more butter if needed. Mix the quinoa with the peaches, tomatoes, corn, salt, pepper, and vinaigrette. Top with chives and eat immediately!
Chapter 52: Charlie's POV: Embers
Summary:
Nick and Charlie are at Lavender Fields. They are ecological champions of water conservation.
Notes:
One of my favorite cakes is the chocolate cake recipe that I posted many chapters back in Lavender Fields. The cake itself is really rich, the frosting is sweet, and the combination of the two is just the right blend of perfection. NSB and waveofyou – you are the human versions of that cake… any way you slice it.
Heh. Cake pun.
Next week is a Danny & James week, followed by two Lavender Fields weeks in a row!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Light, soft.
Light, soft.
Light, soft.
At first, Charlie wasn’t sure why he woke up with words repeating like a whisper in his mind. As he slowly came awake, Charlie felt Nick running his hand along his bare arm, the touch light and soft. He opened his eyes to see Nick smiling softly at him, with an achingly beautiful expression Charlie was still astonished that he got to see when he woke up.
“Morning,” Charlie said sleepily, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of Nick’s skin on his. He murmured in happy surprise when Nick kissed him gently on the lips.
“Good morning.”
Charlie inhaled deeply, trying to soak in Nick’s touch with every one of his senses. “What time is it?”
Nick sighed and drew Charlie closer, pulling him so that Charlie’s head rested on his broad, freckled chest. “Arse-early o’clock.”
“Are we in the fives or the sixes?” It was disgustingly early, but there was almost nothing that would dampen his joy right now, save for Nick getting raptured or something. Charlie would have woken up at two in the morning to get to lay in bed with Nick.
“Fives. Early fives.”
“Homophobic.” What was really homophobic was that Nick and Charlie were completely nude and hadn’t gotten to smush their naked bodies together like the discarded Ken dolls of Tori’s he’d “played with” when he was younger.
“I agree,” sighed Nick. “I have to get up and do the chores.”
“No,” muttered Charlie grumpily, wrapping his arms more securely around Nick. “No chores. Stay with me.”
He could hear the smile in Nick’s voice. “What would the guests eat then?”
“Cake. Let them eat cake.”
Nick laughed, and Charlie realised with a blossoming sense of gentle amazement how different it was to wake up to kindness and laughter in the morning. “And the cows?”
“You’re telling me cows wouldn’t like cake, too?” challenged Charlie, eyes still closed.
Charlie snorted and readjusted, rolling on his side and snuggling backwards so that his and Nick’s bodies were fully pressed together. In a way, he almost felt overwhelmed. He was nearly overwhelmed at the idea that he could be here with a man who woke up with so much lightness and softness – and then kept that softness outside of the walls of a bedroom. Pressing his body close to Nick grounded Charlie in a different way, with their skin warm and touching each other’s.
He and Nick lay there for a few moments, and Charlie could feel Nick breathing deep and slow, chest rising and falling with long, purposeful inhales. As they snuggled with one another and Nick’s hand traced up and down Charlie’s body, he could feel the slow rising stiffness between his legs, thrills of hopeful anticipation trickling through his belly. Nick shifted a little, the movement resulting in space between him and Charlie. Charlie made a small sound and moved backwards to connect their bodies again.
Nick moved slightly again, and Charlie heard him swallow. “I – sorry. I just… I can feel you against me, it’s making me…” Nick’s words faded and Charlie’s momentarily worried brain froze before he realised what Nick was saying. He – wow. Nick was saying that Charlie’s arse – Charslie – oh god – Charlie’s arse rubbing against him was making Nick aroused again. Nick was aroused and he thought it might make him uncomfortable.
Charlie nearly laughed aloud at the thought, then sobered enough to immediately reassure Nick. “I don’t… I’m not bothered.” And he very much was not bothered, except as part of being hot and bothered. With his heart racing, Charlie turned over and pressed his now-firm erection against Nick’s thigh to prove his point. “At all.”
Nick sucked in a quick inhale, and the shift of his hips allowed Charlie to feel Nick against him, glorious and magnificent. “I can’t fucking believe I have to get up now,” he groaned, the devastation in his voice mirroring Charlie’s. “That’s not the ‘up’ I want to be at the moment.”
Charlie chuckled, the sound spilling out low and lusty. “Me neither,” he whispered, tangling his fingers in Nick’s hair to connect their bodies even tighter.
Nick’s voice was a plaintive whine. “You aren’t playing fair!”
Charlie gave him a smirk, though he was far less in control than Nick probably thought he was. He could feel his belly tightening, recalling that tonight, it was just them. No friends. No guests in Nick’s part of the house. No tears (fucking hopefully).
“Maybe after I’m done with work we can, uh…” Charlie felt himself blush, though he realised there was no real need to. Nick could very likely tell what Charlie was thinking, based on the fact that their dicks bumping together like they were making blunt, poor attempts to skewer one another. “Reconnect?”
“Great,” Nick said immediately. “When does your workday end, 8:04 am? I can be done with the chores by 8:04. I’ll order a cake from Tesco and let the guests feed themselves; that really was an excellent suggestion.”
Charlie leaned his head back, his chest filling up with warmth and amazement that mornings could feel like this, just happy and easy. “Plus or minus like nine hours.” He let out a soft sound when Nick pressed forward to kiss him, a lingering touch that made Charlie swoon.
“You go back to sleep now,” Nick said, starting to get out of bed. He paused and then kissed Charlie’s eyelids, one and then the other. Charlie wondered if Nick felt how his eyes were darting around under the lids, trying to make sense of this perfect man and perfect situation. “See you at breakfast?”
“I’ll help,” Charlie inisted, trying to open his eyes instead of just laying here and drinking in what might have been heaven. “I have to earn my three percent friends and family discount.”
Nick just laughed quietly and got dressed like he was trying not to disturb Charlie. Charlie’s eyes cracked open to watch Nick pulling on his pants, grinning stupidly at the gorgeous white skin of his bum. Charlie hoped he was going to see that stretch of skin again very soon. He shut his eyes quickly when Nick crossed back over to kiss Charlie once more on the forehead, not wanting to be caught staring yet again.
That kiss lingered on Charlie’s skin, its warmth seeping through his skull to wrap happily around his brain. The gentle, soft feeling stayed with him as Charlie got himself out of bed, pulling on clothes for a run. Nick must be in the barn, so Charlie made the coffee and tea and left Nick a note, grinning at his own jibe about Nick’s age. Charlie had an absolutely brilliant playlist that Amy had shared with him for his run, though he knew he wasn’t listening to a bit of it. All of his thoughts circled back to Nick in a way entirely different to how they’d circled back to Ben in the early days. All of those thoughts had been tinged with worry and anxiety, the edges dark and ashen. With Nick, though – Charlie realised that he had been running with a nerdy smile on his face, the joy filling his chest. Every thought about Nick was light and soft, filling his head and chest and wrapping warmly around his heart.
God, Charlie couldn’t wait for the work day to be over.
He finished his run and dashed back in without a sign of Nick. Charlie was secretly a bit pleased, as it let him shower first and put on a cute outfit that hopefully Nick would be taking off of him later. Charlie hurried down the stairs to get at least a few minutes with Nick, stomach flipping in delighted excitement to see Nick in the kitchen, his strong shoulder working as he mixed something.
“Hi,” said Charlie, wrapping his arms around Nick from behind in a move that might have felt impossibly daunting even a week ago.
Nick turned his neck to look at Charlie, smiling. “Hi.”
Charlie looked at Nick’s glowing face, overcome with adoration. Impulsively, he rose on his toes to kiss Nick’s cheek. “Sneak attack,” he murmured, heart racing with his boldness.
“Oi!” said Nick, laughing and turning to look at Charlie. “I doubt Health and Safety would be okay with snogging while whisking. Though I think,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “That it is an eggcellent idea.”
“Oh, god.” Charlie laughed and shook his head, trying to play his role. It was harder when Nick constantly relieved the anxiety that Charlie felt when he pushed things, acting too boldly.
Nick was grinning. “They might caution that kissing while preparing breakfast is too whisky.”
Charlie sighed, masking his happiness. “I…”
Nick twisted his head and looked at Charlie with wide eyes. “Charlie, why aren’t you cracking up at my yolks?” Charlie groaned and pushed his face into Nick’s back, but Nick had broken through the act and Charlie couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re giggling! You think I’m funny!”
“I hate you.”
I love you.
“No, you like me!”
“I really don’t.”
I love you, Nick.
Charlie’s ears were burning when Nick turned fully around and held Charlie in his arms. He took a half-second’s breath and then kissed Charlie gently. “Are you able to stay for breakfast with the guests today?”
“Sadly, no,” Charlie said, ruing work and capitalism and the need to exchange labour for monetary compensation. “I have an early meeting and a packed schedule today.”
“Can I bring something up for you in a bit?”
Nick’s face was open and caring. It was surprising that Charlie no longer felt surprised when Nick looked at him like that. Charlie could feel his smile trembling the tiniest bit when he replied, his heart full and aching, “That’s all right, I’ll just grab something. Don’t trouble yourself.”
“Yes, because you’re so much trouble, Char,” Nick said with a fond roll of his eyes. “With your thoughtfulness and help around the kitchen and endlessly making out with the inn owner.”
Charlie laughed, then sobered. “Shh, don’t tell the other innkeepers I hang out with. I don’t use tongue when I kiss them; I don’t want them to get jealous.”
Nick leaned his head towards Charlie and laughed too. “I’ll hold my…” He bounced his eyebrows.
“Your tongue,” Charlie finished in a flat tone, though he was nearly squirming with pure, bright happiness. “Ugh. God. Now you’re making me complete them? That was not part of the agreement I signed.”
Nick pulled him close with a throaty chuckle. Charlie drew his fingers along the short, soft hairs behind the strong neck and felt Nick shudder. When Nick spoke again, his voice was low and made Charlie’s skin prickle with anticipation. “Let me know when you’re done with work, yeah?”
“Yeah,” replied Charlie, struggling to pull his eyes from Nick’s face. “I will.”
They kissed once more before Charlie dragged himself away and flung his body upstairs like an irate toddler, fussy that he was not an heir whose only responsibilities were protesting that he didn’t benefit from nepotism and shagging his boyfriend.
It was going to be a long day.
-
It was a long day – a tremendously long one. Charlie would be in a meeting, nodding and making noises of assent at appropriate times when his thoughts would drift to Nick, almost always in an entirely inappropriate way. Then Anita would Slack him and playfully ask why he was smiling, Charlie blushing and snapping back to attention. It wasn’t any better when Charlie was working on his own. He’d dedicate himself to a task and work on it for a bit, telling himself firmly that he couldn't look at the clock until at least thirty minutes had gone by. Then he’d finally look at the clock and curse in frustration when he saw that it had been a grand total of about a hundred seconds.
It felt like a merciful gift of heaven when the clock hit 4:42 (Charlie believed in rounding up) and he could message Nick, rounding out their string of messages that had flowed back and forth since they’d parted ways that morning.
cfspring1: done with work
cfspring1: i hope you are too 😘
Charlie waited a few moments, but Nick didn’t respond back immediately like he usually did. Charlie tapped his foot impatiently before his eagerness won out, lasting only a few minutes before he went downstairs.
As soon as Charlie made his way to the kitchen he saw the cause of the holdup. There was a middle-aged woman gesticulating broadly as she spoke at Nick, rattling on about rainfall and nightshades and how cruciferous vegetables affected the frequency of her bowel movements. Charlie took in the hilarious scene in front of him for a moment before Nick saw him standing there, sending the closest human face equivalent to the 🥺 emoji that he’d ever seen.
Charlie stifled a laugh and then cleared his throat. “Nick?” he said, feeling around in his pocket as if searching for keys. “Would you mind giving me a hand with grabbing something out of my car?”
“Of course,” Nick burst out eagerly. He loudly excused himself as he nearly sprinted out of the kitchen and Charlie had to bite the inside of his lips to keep it together. Nick made his way to Charlie in a flash and they made their way outside, Nick quietly asking if Charlie actually needed help.
“No,” Charlie muttered with a grin. “But it looked like you could use some.”
“Good god,” Nick groan-laughed once they were safely outside, his strong hand gripping Charlie’s forearm in mirth. “I feel like I was just told so many things against my will, including the order of operations that she takes in the shower - she shaves her legs first before shampoo, Charlie, I feel like you now also need to know that.”
Charlie winced, laughing. “Thanks.”
“I think if we just wait a few you can escape back to the house while I do the afternoon chores,” said Nick. “I think she used all of the words in the English language; she must have run out and gone back upstairs by now.”
Charlie smiled. Light. Nick was all light. “I’ll come with you,” he offered. “I’ve been inside all day; I’d love to get out a little. And see the girls.” And watch you walk up and down that hill from behind you where the scenery is the best I’ve ever seen.
“They’ll be happy to see you,” Nick grinned, and they walked to the barn together. Their arms swung close to one another’s and Charlie’s stomach danced as their hands brushed. He looked down in thrilled astonishment when Nick slipped his fingers into Charlie’s, linking their bodies together for the first time in hours. Charlie’s chest thrummed happily as he looked at Nick and met his warm brown eyes. They chatted and laughed about their days as they went to the barn, then Nick made his way up to the loft by way of the ladder which afforded Charlie a truly fantastic view.
While Nick was throwing down hay, Charlie made himself useful, checking the cows’ water as he spoke to them and kicked at the bales of hay to spread it out for the girls. He was murmuring to Nellie about how hot her uncle/brother/dad was when he heard Nick’s voice, the gentle smile in it clear.
“You don’t have to help, you know,” Nick said. Charlie looked up to see Nick leaning on the fence like a sexy cowboy.
The cheeky reply that he’d readied about earning a discount faded in his throat from how gorgeous the whole scene was. Nick was silhouetted against the setting sun and it made Charlie feel softer than he had all day. “I know,” he said quietly, then blushed. “I just… I want to be around you.”
Nick smiled and reached through the fence to interlace his fingers with Charlie’s. “I want to be around you, too,” he said, that half-smile making his face look younger than normal. “Can I just join your work meetings from now on so we can hang out during the day, too?”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, great idea, I love that. You can just sit quietly in the background of all of my calls without saying anything, just staring.”
“Your colleagues will love that.” Nick grinned and nodded, moving a little closer so their bodies were nearly touching separated only by the boards of the fence. “They’ll be like, ‘oh, wow, who’s that stunningly handsome man who literally brightens the room when he walks in?’”
Charlie laughed and blushed, trying to imagine how the jaws of every person at work would fall open if Nick Nelson appeared over Zoom. Charlie could almost hear the clicking of everyone pinning Nick’s display to their screens at the same time. He snorted to cover up the blush rising up his neck. “And I’ll just lean close to the computer and mutter about ignoring my weird roommate.”
Nick laughed, first pretending to lock Charlie in the paddock before swinging the gate open. Charlie edged his way around and joined Nick at the fence. They were facing downhill toward the marsh where the last of the candyfloss colours were fading from the sky, deepening to a rich blue. The only sounds were the cows ambling over the yard and picking up hay, the soft trickling of the water in the background, and the layered calls of the birds. It was all so beautiful and Charlie tried to think of something romantic but funny to say when he felt Nick nudge his shoulder.
“Hey,” Nick said, looking into Charlie’s eyes. “I missed you when you were gone.”
Charlie had a surreal moment where those felt both like the most sacred, glittering words in the world and felt shockingly normal. Nick was… Nick was creating almost a new normal, one that Charlie had no idea could exist three months ago.
“I missed you, too,” he said, gently pulling at Nick’s arm so they could face one another. Charlie pressed his hand against Nick’s body to convince himself that this was real. It was real to hear words like that. It was real to have someone openly care for him without resentment. Nick was real. A wave of deep affectionate gratitude that Nick was Nick washed through Charlie and he lifted on his toes to press a kiss to the perfect, warm mouth in front of him. Nick made a low, sensual sound and wrapped his arms closer around Charlie, his arms tightening.
Charlie swallowed back a moan at Nick’s throaty utterance, one that made the muscles in his inner thighs clench in anticipatory euphoria. Nearly overcome by lust and love, he pushed at Nick’s shoulders to pin him against the fence, Nick responding with equal enthusiasm. Charlie had no idea how long they were there, bodies surging against each others’. Time wasn’t real – only Nick was real. The only real things in the world were the sounds he was making and the way his hands were gripping Charlie as if he was the most precious thing in the world. This moment was the only thing that existed – their bodies pressed together as if neither of them could be satisfied with anything else. Reality was the way Nick’s hair felt between Charlie’s fingers as he kissed up the side of Nick’s neck, heat rising in his body like their breath between them. The only thing that Charlie could feel was –
Moooooooooooo.
A drawn-out lowing from Nellie made them both snap back to reality, both Nick and Charlie laughing in surprise.
Charlie giggled, his brain floaty and effervescent after the heated moments with Nick. “Okay, we get it, Nellie. We’ll keep it appropriate for the kids in front of you and Henry.”
She was probably worried we were going to go for a… roll in the hay,” Nick said with a wink, and Charlie groaned.
“Oh god. I have a headache now.”
Nick laughed and pulled Charlie close, gently swaying their bodies together. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “That has to be so overrated.”
Charlie tilted his head back to look at Nick. “What?”
“Literally having sex in hay – like, a true ‘roll in the hay’. Have you ever laid in hay? It’s so itchy. No one wants that.”
Sex.
Nick just used the S word.
Nick said sex .
Be cool, be cool, everybody fucking be cool.
Charlie tried to play it off, masking his blush by nuzzling against Nick and nibbling his earlobe. “We should come up with a new phrase,” he said. “We can make it a roll in the ‘hey, look at these 500-count sheets I have’.”
“That’s real sexy talk,” Nick murmured, his voice sounding fuzzy.
Sexy. There it was again, the word flowing like warm water around Charlie’s chest, filling up his belly with pleasant heat. Nick trailed his fingers into Charlie’s curls and Charlie’s breath caught. Nick was saying these – these words and his hands were all over and god, they needed to get inside and away from innocent bovine eyes. He locked eyes with Nick, who let out a low rumbling sound. Charlie pulled Nick towards the house, both of them nearly stumbling in their haste.
“Shoes of chastity… release me!” Nick muttered in a stifled shout of a whisper at the threshold, making Charlie snort with laughter. They snuck into the door that led to Nick’s part of the house to avoid the human Furby that might be lurking nearby, ready to warn both of them about the risks of alliums for the human digestive system.
It was a fumbling, staggering entry into the bedroom, each of them knocking something about as they made their way onto the bed itself. Nick fell on the bed and pulled Charlie along with him. Charlie hitched one leg up, using the leverage to slowly rock up and down along Nick’s body, the two of them already gasping. Nick’s hands were on Charlie and Charlie’s hands were on Nick and it wasn’t enough. Charlie ran his hands under Nick’s jumper and Nick wrenched it off, though there was a mini shower of hay that fell out onto the duvet. Cows, now hay – undone by farmyard components again.
Nick groaned. “Shit. I really should shower before we do… pants things.”
Charlie let his head fall back, giggling. “Pants things? Is this an after school special again?”
“Shut up,” Nick laughed, gently pushing Charlie’s arm. He sighed and rolled on his side, looking at Charlie. “Mind if I excuse myself for a few minutes?”
Charlie blinked, the mathematics flying around his brain like a meme. Nick needed to shower (1 shower). Charlie also needed to shower (+1 additional shower). If 1 person and 1 other person needed to shower, that meant 2 showers. But through some complex calculations, 1 + 1 could also equal… 1.
Charlie tried to speak, stopped. Tried again. “Well, I kind of feel the same after helping with the cows.” He looked at Nick, considering how to present the addition problem to the class. “I could go up to mine and shower too, or, uh…”
There was a couple-second pause where Charlie nearly shrivelled into a sultana air-dried in a sauna of shame before Nick burst out with a loud, “YES,” making Charlie jump. Then Nick blushed and shook his head vehemently. “I mean, no! You showering separately is, um, hard on the pipes, you know?” Charlie, shaky with relief, snickered loudly as Nick’s flushed deepened. “I mean – oh, fuck. I was trying to be all silly and flirty and made that way more sexual than I even meant.” Charlie couldn’t stop giggling, his head bouncing on Nick’s chest as Nick laughed too. They both regrouped their dignity and breath. With the space back in his chest, Charlie felt the heat growing again, his skin tingling. “Can we shower together?” Nick asked in a charmingly unnecessary question.
“Yes,” Charlie replied in a low voice, quivering with anticipation. Nick got up first and pulled Charlie up and off the bed, backing him into the bathroom. Nick reached past him to turn on the water, Charlie’s breath catching at the feeling of Nick’s body heat. Nick stepped back and touched the hem of Charlie’s shirt with a questioning look and this time, Charlie nodded immediately, feeling comfortable under Nick’s gaze.
They stood together with bare torsos, close but not yet touching. Everything in Charlie’s body felt like it was both trembling and rooted to the spot at the same time. He watched Nick’s hand as it lifted, then drifted his fingers down Charlie’s side, torturously slow. Then – then – Nick slowly dragged the tips of his fingers across Charlie’s stomach, then down to hover just below the waistband of his pants. Nick was so close to where Charlie craved and he couldn’t suppress the whimper and shudder that ran through him.
“Okay?” Nick whispered.
Charlie nodded furiously. “Yes,” he murmured, the word rumbling out. “Yes.”
Charlie’s legs were shaking when Nick stepped closer, so close that Charlie could smell the sweet scent of the hay still clinging to his skin. Then he reached down and unzipped Charlie’s jeans. The blunt pressure of his hand wasn’t nearly enough, but it was still an achingly amazing moment – Nick touching him. Nick hooked his thumbs under the fabric of Charlie’s jeans and pants, pushing them down. The small, soft sound that Nick let out didn’t escape Charlie, and definitely didn’t escape his dick, which made a bold dash for freedom, emerging already mostly hard. Nick made another low sound and then sank to his knees to push Charlie’s jeans the rest of the way down, his mouth inches from Charlie. Oh, god. If Charlie lived long enough to have Nick do that, he’d never ask for another day. Nick was even… Nick was even making eye contact the whole time, just like in a porn sex movie. Or whatever that was called. Charlie brain wasn’t making words good at the moment.
Nick slowly rose back up and Charlie breathed in slowly, the heat rising and building in his body. He stepped around Nick and wrapped his arms around the gorgeous, solid torso in front of him to unbutton Nick’s trousers. Nick let out a shaky sigh that carried the edge of a moan when Charlie undid the zipper of his jeans. Charlie could feel Nick’s erection straining at the thick, both homo- and biphobic fabric that separated it from Charlie’s hand. Charlie pushed the jeans the rest of the way down and then brushed against Nick as he stepped away again. In that breathless moment, the head of his dick nudged against Nick’s skin in a way that sent a shower of sparks down Charlie’s spine and made Nick gasp.
When Nick turned, the look on his face was steamier than the water, already rising in a thick mist around them. His eyes wandered over Charlie’s body in a way that felt entirely unlike Ben. Unlike anyone Charlie had been with. “You’re so beautiful,” Nick said in a low voice as he kissed Charlie’s neck, face, shoulders. “Like I said. You are so gorgeous.”
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. Gorgeous. Deserving. Enough. Nick had said all of those things about him, and every time, the words seemed to smooth some of the long-creased parts of his brain, the ones that Ben had shaped into sharp folds over the years. Charlie gathered himself, returning to the moment. This moment. The moment when Nick Nelson was utterly naked and was about to press his naked body against Charlie’s. “In?” he asked.
Nick nodded wordlessly and they stepped into the shower. This was – Charlie had been lucky enough to see Nick starkers the previous night, but this was different. The overhead lights were on in the bathroom and with them, Charlie could see all of Nick like this and fuck. Fuck, was this man gorgeous. He was just massive, a mighty tree of a man who could throw Charlie around if he wanted to.
Charlie very much wanted that.
Nick’s skin was mostly pale except for some adorable patches near his wrists and neck from where he’d been well-tanned by the sun. There was a scattering of freckles across his body, each of which Charlie wanted to touch with his lips. And then… him. Nick was fully aroused, a mouth-wateringly thick dick rising out of admirably well-groomed hair. Charlie only ogled for a moment before their bodies were together again, hot and slippery against one another. Nick’s hands were on Charlie’s body and Charlie’s were on his, both of them touching gently, almost reverently. Charlie was lost in the heat and water and desire when Nick reached past him to get body wash and then locked eyes.
“Can I touch you?” Nick asked, his voice a thrum against the walls of the shower. “Wash you?”
Charlie’s knees quaked and he let out a little whimper, nodding. Nick wanted to… Then the thought rinsed away, like Nick’s hands were smoothing over Charlie’s brain as well as his body. His hand slid and lathed over Charlie, working the muscles, in that tender yet strong way Nick had. After a minute or two of that, Charlie remembered himself and that he needed to return the favour for Nick, soaping up his own hands and running them up and down the firm planes of the gorgeous body there with him.
Charlie stepped closer and he stifled a gasp when their dicks nudged against each other’s bodies for a moment, hot and slick. Nick made another high, breathy sound and Charlie stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked, not moving for a moment. “Is this okay?”
Nick’s eyes had fluttered closed. “This is more than okay. Can I…” Nick moved so that their thighs were staggered and their bodies slotted together. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” Charlie burst out in a voice that would have made his Apple watch ping him with a “Loud Environment” notification had he not taken it off before the shower. “Can I touch you?”
“God, yes.”
Charlie reached over, hands shaking from anticipation and lust. He wrapped his hand around the smooth, perfect skin and relished the life-changing sound that Nick made. And then Nick – oh holy everloving shit of Babylon – Nick slid his palm down Charlie’s dick. Charlie groaned loudly, the sound filling up his chest and the tiled space. It was all deliciously too much, their hands gliding against one another, each of them mewling out choked sounds. Charlie tried to focus on what Nick was doing to him at the same time that he tried to focus on what he was doing to Nick, but it was too much. It seemed like Nick was of the same mind, his hand periodically halting when Charlie did something particularly creative, his motion stuttering.
Charlie stepped closer to Nick, letting his hand slide down Nick’s back and over his perfect, firm arse. He brought his lips to Nick’s ear. “Let me take care of you. Can I do that?”
Nick moaned, a long throaty expression. “Yes.”
A low sound tore out of Charlie and he moved around so that he had the best angle. He wanted to make this exactly what Nick deserved. Charlie let his hand slip down Nick’s body and then gripped him firmly, sliding up and down the smooth shaft, occasionally rubbing the palm of his hand over Nick’s head in a way that made him shudder and groan. Charlie used one hand to hold himself against Nick’s slippery body as he worked his hand, reading Nick’s enraptured sounds and twitches. Charlie changed up his rhythm, using his fingers and thumb around Nick instead of his palm and Nick keened, throwing his head back.
“Are you doing all right?” Charlie asked, pausing his movement but not letting go.
Nick gripped against his shoulder like it was the only thing keeping him standing. Charlie felt his fingers quivering into his skin and a flash of pride sparkled in his chest. Nick struggled to open his eyes, but finally did, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “I – oh, god, Charlie… I won’t last.”
Charlie’s belly filled with warmth and the ache between his legs increased. “Good,” he murmured, seeing instantly how the words made Nick’s back arch. “That’s good, Nick.”
He increased the pace of his hand and Nick’s hips bucked. “Oh, god. Yes. You… that… oh, god.” Nick was babbling, a stream of golden words that lit Charlie from the inside, a match dropped onto dry grass. “God. Charlie!” His breath hitched and Nick came, clutching Charlie’s shoulder, fingers quivering. Charlie didn’t stop his hand, working Nick until he was finished and gasping, the water streaming over his face. “God, Char,” he said, his voice sounding satiated and exhausted.
“Yeah?” That was all Charlie needed. He could die happy right now.
Nick half-laughed. “Yeah.” He lifted Charlie’s hand to kiss it, then kept his mouth moving over Charlie’s arm, dragging his lips everywhere. “You are amazing.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re just easily pleased. Or haven’t gotten laid in a while.”
“Okay, three things can be true at the same time, all right?”
They both giggled at that and Nick pulled Charlie into his body. Charlie sighed with pleasure, filled with the satisfaction of their bodies so close together and what he had been able to do for Nick. They swayed in the water, Nick’s breath still evening out.
Charlie was legitimately surprised when Nick’s hands moved from his back to his side, then drifted over to his stomach once again, hovering like they might go… there.
“Can I touch you?”
Nick’s voice was a rough whisper, one that made Charlie nearly swoon. “Yes, still yes,” he breathed, stomach and inner thigh muscles clenching in the incredible anticipation of Nick sliding his hand onto Charlie’s dick. Charlie gasped when instead, Nick’s hand slid down to grip his hip, using that hand to balance as Nick sank to his knees.
His knees.
Nick was on his knees in front of Charlie, brown eyes looking up through wet eyelashes. One hand stayed firmly on his hip while Nick’s other hand played down from his navel, travelling slowly over the slick skin.
Nick rested his head on Charlie’s thigh and his mouth was inches from the literal pinnacle of Charlie’s life. They locked eyes and Charlie’s knees nearly buckled when Nick’s fingers stroked the soft skin of his hip crease. “Can I – use my mouth on you?”
Can I use my mouth on you?
Did Nick just… say that? Ben hadn’t, not for so long and this – this was… Nick, he… “Do you want to do that?” Charlie managed to get out, struggling through the teeming mass of thoughts.
Nick ran his thumb dangerously low across Charlie’s belly and he whimpered quietly. “I really do.” Nick looked up, his eyes locking on Charlie’s once more. “Is that okay?”
Charlie nodded, his head feeling as though it were on a string. “Yes, Nick,” he breathed. “Yes, please. Please, Nick.” The last sentence ended as a genuine plea, so acute was Charlie’s ache for Nick’s touch. He trembled as Nick’s fingers slowly drew down his stomach and then wrapped around Charlie’s absolutely raging erection.
Then the world ended and started at the same time.
Nick slid his mouth over Charlie’s dick and Charlie let out a quivery sound that might have been a moan or might have been a prayer for strength. Nick was… Nick was doing this to him, even though Charlie hadn’t done that to him. Nick was giving him this tremendous gift and it was… it was… it was Nick running his tongue around the head of Charlie’s penis?
Charlie clutched Nick’s shoulder. “God, Nick,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut in delicious pleasure.
Nick made a soft, muffled sound that Charlie felt as well as heard, his legs now wobbly. He took Charlie deeper into his mouth and it was everything. It was everything. To have Nick choose to do this for him and want to do this to him… god. It took Nick a few moments to find a rhythm, though he had no issues with enthusiasm. Communicating together was even easy wordlessly, Charlie touching Nick’s shoulder when he went a little too hard and making affirmational noises when it felt good. God, it felt so good.
“That’s… that’s so good, Nick,” Charlie breathed.
He shivered at the happy moan Nick made at the praise, then melted when Nick groped for one of Charlie’s hands and pulled it into his hair. Charlie keened and gripped Nick’s wet hair. That only seemed to encourage Nick even more, who wrapped one hand around the base of Charlie’s dick while he used his tongue and lips around the shaft. It was all so overwhelming and surreal in the best way. This was Nick. Nick, doing this to Charlie. Nick, who was kinder and better and had seemed more unattainable than any man Charlie had ever dated, being so generous and vulnerable. That, combined with the intense physical pleasure, swirled and tumbled with the happy amazement in Charlie’s chest and low belly, and it wasn’t long before he could feel the buildup.
Charlie tried to gain enough control over his extremities. “Nick,” he managed to get out in between gasps and happy sighs. “I’m nearly there.”
To his horny astonishment, Nick didn’t pull off in the way Ben often had, to half-arsedly use his hand to work Charlie to completion. Instead, Nick just redoubled his efforts, continuing with his mouth and hand. Charlie tipped his head back and groaned, then nearly collapsed when Nick cradled his balls with one hand, gently rolling and stroking.
This was… Charlie had never… no one had ever… Charlie gasped again, his breath ragged and desperate. “I’m… Nick, I’m about to come.”
Still – Nick didn’t stop. He didn’t pull off. He didn’t change anything. He just… kept giving. He made another pleased-sounding groan and Charlie gripped his fingers into Nick’s hair with keening tension.
“God, yes.” The words felt like they were someone else’s, high and breathy. Charlie was flying. He was floating. He was so deeply, intensely in love with this generous man. “Nick, I’m….”
Then all words and reason left his mind and he was nothing but feelings, big, bright, feelings that almost felt like they were going to burst through his chest. It was the closest to a full-body orgasm that Charlie had ever experienced, and Nick rested his cheek against Charlie’s thighs, still stroking his dick as he finished. Charlie realised after a moment how tightly his hand was tangled in Nick’s hair, as if it were the only thing holding him up – which honestly, it may have been. His legs felt like a newborn giraffe’s, wobbly and precarious. That feeling was only intensified when he was fully spent and Nick stayed down on his knees for a moment, softly kissing Charlie’s stomach, upper legs, and hips.
Charlie felt tears burn his eyes as Nick stood up and gathered him in his strong rugby arms. Nick was… he was here. That felt like a stupid thing to think; of course Nick was still there. But while yes, physically it made sense that they were in the same location, Nick was still present. He hadn’t drawn away after checking a task off his list. He hadn’t rinsed his mouth and stepped out of the shower to dry off. He hadn’t even gotten up right away. Nick had… he had taken care of Charlie. He had cared for Charlie.
And now it was Charlie’s turn to care for Nick.
He swallowed back the soft, tender love and appreciation for Nick and instead shifted to a harder, more primal feeling. That feeling was in fact bumping against him, a manifestation of Nick’s readiness to go again, amazingly. As if Nick heard the thought, he drew back and perhaps even blushed a little, clearly not wanting Charlie to feel uncomfortable. Instead, Charlie held him close. “It’s okay, Nick. I really don’t mind.”
Nick chuckled, his chest rumbling pleasantly against Charlie’s ear. “I just – god, Char. Hearing you and seeing you and, like – feeling you.” Charlie couldn’t help but shudder with a purring sense of happy overwhelm at that, and he softly groaned. Nick thought that Charlie… felt good? In his mouth? Oh, god, dreams came true and they were wonderfully filthy. Nick touched his forehead to Charlie’s. “You are so fucking sexy.”
At those words, those gorgeous and squirmy words, Charlie looked up. Nick was gazing at him softly and Charlie smiled before wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck and kissing him. “ I am?” he scoffed. “I am literally in the shower with the hottest professional rugby player in the world.”
“Former rugby player,” corrected Nick with a grin.
“Oh,” said Charlie with an unaffected shrug. “Never mind then. Who cares, in that case.” Nick chuckled, and Charlie watched the way his abs rippled. It was so intensely arousing. “God, Nick, you are so fucking sexy,” he murmured. “You are so fucking hot. And that was…” Amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Incentive to quit my job and just live here in your shower as your towel boy. Then he paused, considering that this… this was probably Nick’s first blowie. “How do you feel? After doing…” Charlie trailed off, blushing despite the fact that they were standing here naked and dick-to-dick. “... That? I’d assume, for the first time?”
“You’d assume right.” Nick smiled gently. He took a long inhale and Charlie’s stomach knotted in anxiety. He truly wanted to know what it had been like for Nick, but honesty was as terrifying as it was rewarding. “Great, Charlie. I feel great.” Charlie looked at his face as if searching for the gentle lie, but there was nothing there but caring and honesty. “How do you feel?” Nick asked, handing Charlie a towel.
Charlie laughed unsteadily, gripping the towel rack and wrapping himself up, then pressing back to Nick. “I now know what you meant when you said you felt like you had pasta limbs last week.”
Nick hugged him close, still mercifully starkers. “Makes you feel like your life has pasta you by, right?”
Charlie giggled, his body too loose and happy to pretend to scoff. “Did you use your… noodle to think of that?” In truth, that was the single food pun he’d generated in his notebook, and he’d been waiting to use it during an opportune moment.
Nick pushed Charlie to an arm’s reach to beam at him, then squished him in a giant, gleeful hug. “Oh my god, Char!”
“Don’t look at me,” mumbled Charlie in his cottony cocoon of shame. “I don’t even know myself.”
“Don’t be upset with yourself, Char,” Nick said soothingly, lifting his chin with one finger. “I don’t want you to get upset with these spaghetti puns and throw something. You might al dente the wall.”
And there was his limit. Charlie rolled his eyes in defeated amusement as they both towelled off, the heat swelling and billowing again in his chest as he watched Nick’s body move around the small space. That body – that man – that human had given him so much pleasure, and how Charlie got to return the favour. He touched Nick’s arm when he went to grab a pair of joggers, Nick turning to look at him.
“What?”
Charlie let his lips curve up and stepped closer, running his hand up Nick’s forearm. “You don’t need those. Not yet.”
Nick’s eyes widened, and Charlie saw his throat working as he swallowed. “I…”
Am about to get my mind (and penis) blown, Charlie mentally finished the sentence. He pushed at Nick’s shoulders to get him to sit on the mattress and then stalked slowly towards him, feeling inexplicably confident and electric. Nick’s breach hitched as Charlie drew nearer, straddling the thick thighs, Nick’s firm erection pressing against his own dick.
“Nick,” he said, pronouncing it as a sentence. Charlie felt like he was on top of the world. He’d never felt so sensual and sultry in his life. He relished how Nick gasped and bucked when Charlie teased his neck and ear, then pulled back to whisper again. “Can I use my mouth on you now?”
Nick’s eyes were wide and astonished for a moment, then they darkened and Nick’s fingers twitched on Charlie’s skin. “Yeah.” His voice was low. Sexual. Hot. “I… I want that.”
Charlie kissed Nick, bodies surging together before Charlie finally extricated himself, slinking down to the floor on his knees. He stood on them to run his fingers up Nick’s body and then back down, nudging him toward the edge of the bed. Nick quickly acquiesced and Charlie pressed his knees out wide, then gripped the muscular thighs, loving the way the hair felt underneath his hands. God, to see Nick like this, open and ready – Charlie’s mouth was legitimately watering. He kissed the insides of Nick’s legs and paused for a moment, then Nick let out a plaintive, aching sound that cut through to Charlie’s stomach. It was the sound of the desperate ache that Charlie had felt for so long, and it propelled him forward, his mouth taking in as much of Nick as he could.
It felt…
It felt…
It felt so familiar and so different. Charlie knew he was good at this. He knew how to use his hands and mouth, and the way to use his tongue in unexpected and amazing ways. He knew how to make a man sigh and quiver, and he knew how to read the signs that his partner was getting close. Charlie still carried all of that confidence in this experience with Nick, but it was so much more. He felt authentically connected to Nick in a way he hadn’t felt with others. This wasn’t just the thing he knew he was supposed to do and owed his partner, it was something he was authentically enjoying, drawing as much pleasure from it as he was giving. Charlie was lost in the sensations and running his hands down and along Nick’s arse when Nick’s back arched.
“I’m close, Char,” Nick whispered hoarsely, his voice a rough and lusty sound that trilled up Charlie’s spine.
Charlie smiled to himself and sped up just slightly, Nick moaning and whining about him. He felt Nick’s trembling tap on his shoulder and ignored the warning, staying on Nick as he came. The sounds Nick was making were incredible, the gasps and tiny fragments of words swirling around Charlie. He lasted an impressively long time before finally dropping his head back with a sigh and pulling Charlie into his chest, Charlie’s head lifting and falling as Nick regained himself.
After a stretch of silence, Nick gently rolled his head back and forth. “That settles it,” he said. “You are by far the best guest who has ever stayed at Lavender Fields.”
Charlie giggled and cuddled closer to Nick’s chest. He sighed happily as Nick tangled his fingers into his hair. They had – they had done that. Charlie was liquid heat, his body slowly cooling off after experiencing Nick’s pleasure again. Nick. Nick, who had – who had so many firsts. So much of this was new. “Was that…” Charlie started hesitantly, though not sure what words would be right. “Are you doing okay?”
Nick snorted and kissed Charlie’s hair. “I think you took three years off my life, Charlie. In the best way possible.”
Charlie made a happy sound against Nick’s chest. “And it’s not even seven in the evening yet.”
“Shit, you’re right,” said Nick, sounding incredulous. “I didn’t know I’d be on a rocketship to space before dinner… twice.”
Charlie grinned, matching the smile in Nick’s voice. “Not a bad Wednesday so far.”
“Mm,” Nick agreed, rocking them back and forth on the duvet. “Okay, fifteen more hours of cuddles. Then I make you dinner.”
Charlie could have lived the rest of his life in this bed with this man. “We can make it together,” he replied sleepily. Nick might have said something back but it was lost in the soft comfort of long, slow kisses and even slower blinks. Charlie’s eyes fluttered open some time later, wondering idly if they hadn’t turned off the water in the shower. After a moment he realised that the gurgling sounds were coming from Nick’s stomach. Charlie listened for a moment, giggling at the insistent growling sounds.
“Someone’s hungry,” Charlie snickered as Nick’s eyes opened.
Nick grinned and bopped Charlie gently with one of the small decorative pillows. “Only because someone pulled the life force out of me,” Nick teased, and his ease with post-coital talk made Charlie fall even deeper and inescapably in love with him. Nick could have been hesitant and anxious and withholding and he just… wasn’t. Then Nick winked at him and added, “Twice.” Charlie stretched his body as the smile stretched his cheeks, Nick joining him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s make some dinner.”
They both tugged on their clothes, though there were several groping-related incidents that slowed the dressing process. Every moment with Nick was filled with tiny gestures and kindnesses that were profound in their simplicity, like Nick taking his hand as they walked the ten metres to the kitchen.
“Hmm,” said Nick as they went into the kitchen. “Is there anything you’re craving?”
“No,” Charlie admitted, feeling a little useless in the way of generating dinner ideas. He started to flip mentally through possible ideas, heart rate rising just perceptibly as he tried to make himself a better partner.
“We’ll find something,” Nick said easily, grinning and immediately relaxing Charlie. We. Nick said that we’ll find something. It wasn’t on Charlie. It wasn’t on Nick, either. They were partners in this dinner-recipe-searching endeavour. It was yet another of those tiny things that accumulated into a soft blanket that made Charlie want to curl up in warm delight forever.
There must have been a dozen more moments in the kitchen as they cooked together. Charlie acted as Nick’s sous chef (a term Nick taught him in a fucking French accent that did not go on for enough words), getting ingredients together and prepping things for Nick. Every time Charlie did some prep, Nick just… thanked him. He’d turn to Charlie with a smile and Charlie would tilt forward so they could kiss. It was… god, it was perfect. In Lavender Fields, everything was perfect.
With the guests all upstairs, Nick and Charlie took advantage of the empty dining room and ate together, their chairs unreasonably close for two chairs at a fourteen-person table. They chatted easily, Nick asking adorably informed questions about Charlie’s work, like what happened with the Miller account and how Anita’s date went the prior weekend. There was a brief pause in their fluid conversation when Nick checked his phone.
“Charlie?” Nick asked, setting down his fork and clearing his throat.
Charlie loved hearing Nick saying his name. He smiled and looked up. “Yeah?”
“There’s a Badger’s match in Leeds,” said Nick. “Against Seamus’s team, Sale. It’s a Badgers home match, which are always really fun to go to. And everyone will be there – the team of course, and then Shea’s team, too.” Nick was speaking quickly, almost sounding… anxious, maybe? Charlie’s heart rate picked up fractionally, wondering where Nick was going. “I think Tex’s brother might come up as well. It’s in a couple of weekends, the end of January.” Nick took a long breath in and then looked at Charlie, his brown eyes expressive. “Would you go?” he asked. Then after a pause, added, “With me?”
Charlie sat in stunned silence for a moment, his heart going even faster now. It sounded like Nick was inviting Charlie to go… to go on a trip with him. Charlie blinked, apprehensive that perhaps he’d misunderstood. “You… want to go on a trip together?”
Nick’s eyebrows drew together and he looked instantly worried. “Shit,” he said, face drawn with anxiety that Charlie knew the look of too well from mornings of staring at his own face in the mirror when he was with Ben. “Is it too soon to ask you to go on a trip?”
“No,” Charlie blurted out immediately, reaching for Nick’s hand. He shook his head, trying to breathe it all in. Nick wanted to go on a trip with him. He wanted to go away with Charlie. “No,” Charlie repeated, caressing Nick’s hand and realising how he’d feel if he were in Nick’s shoes. Nick was open and vulnerable and Charlie could be, too. “Not at all. It’s just…well…” Charlie sighed, the darkness at the edge of his brain threatening to crawl back and cloud the bright warmth. “It’s… Ben. “You’re just…” Charlie shook his head and looked at Nick, the luminance of his face cowing the dark edges away. “He never wanted to be seen with me,” Charlie said softly. “Not that whole first year. And even when it was longer, when we had been together for a while, he still never wanted to, like, do a lot of public stuff.” He laughed, a humourless flat note. Charlie had held onto so many fantasies about how the honeymoon at Lavender Fields was going to finally be the trip that fixed him and Ben. Instead – it had fixed Charlie. “I can’t believe I ever thought there would be a wedding.”
Nick shifted and Charlie saw his mouth tighten with anger before his face softened again and he rubbed his thumb over Charlie’s knuckles. “I can’t believe he ever thought he deserved you.”
Charlie let the sentence hang in the air, trying to let it seep into his skin. Charlie deserved more than Ben. He took a long, shaky breath. “I do want to go with you, Nick,” he said. “I just… I’m still getting used to you, I guess. I’m getting used to how good you are. It – it’s hard sometimes to get used to you wanting to be… around me,” he finished quietly, looking up shyly.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you, Charlie Spring,” Nick murmured. Charlie’s lip trembled this time, overwhelmed by how deeply he loved Nick Nelson. He reached for Nick’s other hand and they clutched at each other. “So,” said Nick with a few long blinks. “Trip?”
Charlie gazed at the amazing man sitting across from him. “Trip,” Charlie echoed, as if the magic of the moment might be sealed by repetition. He and Nick were going away together, just them. Just them, out in the world.
Charlie was going into the world with Nick Nelson.
Notes:
I had an amazing beet and panzanella salad the other day, and it inspired me to look for recipes. I found this Bon Apetit one that I made very minor tweaks to and I really liked it!
1½ pounds small beets, any color, scrubbed (about 10)
½ small red onion, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar, plus more for serving
Kosher salt
½ loaf rye bread, crusts removed, torn into 1-inch pieces (about 6 cups)
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided, plus more for serving
Freshly ground black pepper
1 large orange
1 giant ball of burrata
1 cup torn fresh herbs (such as dill, parsley, tarragon, and mint)Preheat the oven to 425°. Place beets in a shallow 2-qt. baking dish and add water to come ½" up sides. Cover the dish tightly with foil and bake beets until tender and a cake tester or paring knife easily slides through flesh, 45–60 minutes. Let cool slightly. Meanwhile, toss onion, 3 Tbsp. vinegar, and a pinch of salt in a small bowl to combine; set aside.
Toss the torn bread and 2 Tbsp. oil on a rimmed baking sheet to coat; season with salt and pepper. Bake, tossing once, until bread is golden brown and crisp around edges, 8–10 minutes; set aside.
Rub the beets with paper towels to remove skins, then halve (or quarter if large) and place in a large bowl; add onion with liquid. Using a small sharp knife, remove peel and white pith from the orange. Working over the bowl with beets, cut between membranes to release segments into bowl. Squeeze membranes to release juices; discard. Add reserved toasted bread and 2 Tbsp. oil and toss to combine. Let sit a few minutes for flavors to meld.
Just before serving, place the burrata on top of the salad. Top with herbs, drizzle with more oil and vinegar, and season with salt and pepper. Then get a spoon and dig into that bitch!
Chapter 53: Charlie's POV: Travel
Summary:
Nick and Charlie head to Leeds, but not before they do some Sex Things. They stay with Danny and James before heading to th match.
Notes:
Thank you HUGELY and MUCHLY to waveofyou and NellieSayzBork, two of the most magical and resilient people I have ever met. I admire you two fierce unicorns more than I can say!
The song in this chapter is called Wildfire by The Heavy Hours.
ALSO OMG SONGBIRD3724 recorded a podfic chapter where reading BOTH Nick and Charlie’s POVs from the Tao photoshoot!! It is life-alteringly astonishing.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54272593/chapters/147598855
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next few weeks slipped by like soft fabric, comfortable and smooth. Five days out of the week, Charlie woke up in a bed with Nick Nelson at Lavender Fields. Five days a week, Charlie questioned if he was awake or still dreaming when he realised that his body was tucked against Nick’s. Five days a week, Charlie opened his eyes and fell a little bit more dangerously in love with the man he was looking at.
He had no idea that life could just feel this… easy. There were no moments where Charlie felt as though he was holding his breath and waiting for a shoe to drop. He no longer felt that wincing tension of anticipating a wave of annoyance, anger, or irritation. Everything was just so lovely. The two days a week where Charlie was in London were no less lovely, though he did prefer waking up to an auburn-haired god over his low-perspective view of Elle and Tao’s living room from a sofa bed. Work was normal – that is to say, irritating and rewarding in various ratios – but it was nice to get to go back and see some of his best friends at night.
Charlie felt freer with the two of them than he had in weeks, now that he was no longer burdened with a secret. He’d been trying (and failing, to a degree) to hide the developments with Nick from his friends. That experience had stirred up some grating reminders of what it had been like with Ben, when Charlie had hidden what it was like from them for so long, and he felt deliriously light now that it was all out in the open.
He and Elle spoke about Nick fairly often, Elle asking questions about how Charlie was feeling and smiling along with him when he described (some of) the things that he and Nick got up to. For the first few conversations, Tao just contributed in the form of grunts and small snorts that he suppressed whenever Charlie or Elle looked over. Eventually, he started asking a few questions of his own about Nick, though they were predictably related to the films that he and Charlie had watched together and resulted in some exasperated sighing. Still, it didn’t escape Charlie that Tao was asking about Nick, and even went as far as saying that he didn’t sound too rugby-laddish.
At Lavender Fields, each day felt as though it was soaked in sunshine. There were guests cycling in and out, both familiar and unfamiliar. When there were unfamiliar guests who visited as paying customers, it almost felt like Charlie was playing house with Nick. It could have been a silly little joke between them, the two of them pretending that Charlie was part of the business and part of the actual staff. He wasn't, of course, but Nick never treated their interactions as silly or playacting. He just treated Charlie… well, as an equal, almost. An equal in terms of being part of Lavender Fields, but an equal as a person as well. Almost a partner.
Charlie still blushed furiously whenever people referred to him or Nick with that term – “partner”. Of course, he blushed a lot less with the word “partner” than whenever someone used the sparkling, stomach-swoopingly wonderful words boyfriend or husband. While all of honorifics made him swoon a bit, the term boyfriend prickled at his belly in a particularly pleasant and nervy way. Husband... that word was a dreamy impossibility that Charlie would be lucky to find in his lifetime.
But boyfriend… well, Charlie wondered what Nick thought when that word came up. Was Nick the type of person who liked to label a relationship? No, right? Charlie didn't need to label anything. He was truly fine just enjoying what they were doing without the need to name it like they had talked about on New Year’s Day. Charlie was completely cool with that.
The unfamiliar guests were fun and engaging in a different way: Charlie enjoyed the thrill of energy that came along with meeting new people and engaging them in conversation, though he was grateful that Nick lifted most of the load with that so Charlie could escape upstairs to work in relative solitude.
The part that was truly wonderful was the appearance of familiar guests. Darcy and Tara had ended up coming to Lavender Fields again after going on a caravan trip to Nick and Tara's hometown. The four of them sat in the parlour the night that Tara and Darcy arrived, each with a drink in their hand despite it being a Wednesday. Tara joked with Nick about the milkshake shop where the two of them had once been set up on a date by a well-meaning friend when they were preteens, both of them laughing as they recalled how six bumbling twelve-year-olds went on their first dates, funded by a fistful of 10-pound notes provided by their parents.
“Setting up a friend? Now who would do something like that?” asked Darcy with a laughing look at Tara and Charlie.
Tara tilted her head towards her girlfriend wryly. “I believe that is something that you quite literally did to one of our friends recently,” she said.
Charlie felt his heart race and he shot Tara and Darcy a panicked look. He didn’t want Nick to know about that whole thing. Fortunately, both women cottoned on immediately.
Tara immediately looked over at Nick, making a comical face. “She’s done that to so many of our friends.”
Darcy waved her hand dismissively. “I mean, sure, have situations popped up where I've invited one friend to a meal telling them that it was a big group friend dinner but not actually told anybody else about it except for the person that I wanted them to end up on a date with?” She grinned at Nick, cocking her head. “Really, though, who hasn't?”
They all laughed at that, and Charlie felt his racing heart settle back down.
“So, how did you two meet?” Nick asked the two women.
Tara rolled her eyes and Charlie giggled, Darcy clapping in absolute delight and bouncing on her seat while Nick looked both amused and nonplussed at the reactions.
“It was in the supermarket,” Darcy said, grinning madly.
“Oh my god, the story is so good,” Charlie assured Nick. “Right out of a Hallmark movie.”
“It was a tale as old as time,” Darcy said fondly, looking at Tara and smiling. “I just so happened to see the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in the shop. I also just so happened to end up in the same aisle as her as I sniffed around to see if she was wearing a ring. Then of course I had to look in her trolley and see what items were in there to see if she might be into women.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “What items tell you that she is into women?”
Darcy winked. “Iced coffee concentrate in a sustainable bottle, vegan meat substitute, oat milk. You know.”
Everyone laughed including Nick, though Charlie noticed him blushing slightly. He knew it was a new experience for Nick to joke around in a larger group of people like this about silly-yet-sometimes-also-true queer stereotypes and things like that. Charlie could see that Nick was a bit unsure as to what he could joke about with other queer people instead of just Charlie so he gave him a reassuring smile. He could understand the apprehension – Nick was so kind and lovely that he wouldn't want to offend anybody, and he was still new to experiencing what it was like being part of a queer community.
“So anyway,” Darcy continued. “I was like, game on. And then I just happened to walk past her again – total coincidence of course – and I looked in her trolley, then looked at her and said, ‘You’ve got some great melons there’.”
Nick left uproariously, as did Charlie. Darcy giggled and Tara looked faintly embarrassed though pleased as well. “And that was the start of something beautiful,” Tara said, Darcy smiling and kissing her on the cheek.
“I won't ask how you two met,” Darcy said with a grin. “But how's it going?” She leaned forward. “With you two?”
“It’s good,” Charlie responded, so quiet that it barely came out.
“Great,” Nick said enthusiastically at nearly the same time. They looked at each other and then looked down, smiling. It was good. It was great. Charlie didn't have the same anxiety that he had on New Year’s Day, but he still carried a shyness about this thing with Nick and him being on display. Though – that was immeasurably easier with Nick’s immediate, easy response to the question.
God, this man.
Tara seemed to pick up on their reluctance to say much more in front of the two of them and moved on breezily, telling them about their travels. She and Darcy had renovated a camper van and were taking advantage of the quieter time to travel around the country. “It’s been nice,” Tara said, “And we’ve been able to see so many friends along the way.”
“It’s been brill,” Darcy gushed, making Charlie tilt his head curiously. He’d never heard her use that exact word before and he gave her a questioning look. She gave him a bright smile back. “I’ve been talking to Danny.”
“Oh god,” Nick muttered, and Charlie nudged him with his shoulder and laughed softly. Tara nodded ruefully.
“God can't help you there,” Darcy said cheerfully. “No, it’s been so fun messaging back and forth with him. We’re Darcy and Danny – Dancy, obviously – and it’s a match made in heaven. We've become close friends, business partners, partners in–”
“Business partners?” Charlie interrupted, holding up his hand.
“Oh, yeah,” Darcy enthused. “We're going to start an app where you can write down the name of a song that you want to sing the next time you do karaoke. ‘Cause you know how you always end up flipping through the book and taking forever to decide which song you want to do? Now we're going to eliminate that! You can just go to our karaoke app–” She cut herself off and looked around suspiciously as if there might be spies nearby. “Our app called Carry-oke. Like, you carry it in your pocket, get it? Carry-oke?”
Charlie's forehead was creased. “So... like the notes app?”
“What? No. It's not… no. This is totally different.” Darcy said, frowning and shaking her head. “You don't get it, Charlie. It’s… whatever. Danny and I will workshop it when we're in Leeds this summer.”
Nick laughed, looking amazed. “You two are going to Leeds this summer?”
“Of course!” Darcy exclaimed. “You think I'm going to form life changing new relationships and not see them?”
Charlie felt his heart squeeze as the three others laughed and talked, his mind spinning. Darcy was going to go visit the lads in Leeds this summer. That might open the door for Charlie to go join Darcy and Tara when they visited. If they visited; that could have just been Darcy riding the high of two weeks before and the fun evening all of them had spent together. Maybe it was the same thing with Charlie. He’d not really thought about the future, being so desperately in love with the present, here with Nick. What would happen with him and Nick this summer? Charlie had been so lost in the loveliness of the past few weeks that he hadn't even thought about what could happen after. After his flat was ready. After Nick went back to Leeds. After they both left Lavender Fields.
Charlie was pulled back by a loud burst of laughter, Darcy telling some story about how she explained to a bemused person in a hotel that she and Tara were roommates. Roommates who kissed and fondled occasionally, she had added to the increasingly perplexed businessman. Charlie automatically smiled and joined back in on the conversation, the friendly warmth smoothing his brain back over and calming his anxiety.
They all continued talking and Charlie relished how comfortable Nick was with his friends. He was an easy conversationalist of course, but it was beyond that, too. He seemed comfortable being around Charlie around his friends, casually touching an leg or shoulder or arm. Charlie had to suppress the sounds threatening to come out of his mouth when Nick drifted his fingers up and down Charlie’s forearm as the four of them spoke into the evening.
Tara and Darcy only ended up staying a few nights, both of them needing to go back to work. Charlie was sad to see them go, but there was another part of them glad to have them leave. Because once they left, Nick and Charlie were again alone.
Just them.
To Charlie's immense delight, things were progressing physically in the most incredible way. He felt like he’d been a man dying of thirst, trapped in a desert and absolutely parched. Nick had been the gorgeous blue oasis and Charlie was the man crawling slowly towards it, only to have it disappear from view over every dune’s crest. Well, at least that's how Charlie had been thinking of it in those months when he was pining for Nick’s touch. Apparently the oasis had been inching towards him, too, but some weird flukes of geography (or possibly self-doubt) had made Charlie not realise that they were coming together.
So, yes, Charlie had been so thirsty for Nick for literal months and now that he was finally at the oasis, Charlie felt like he might die if he drank all he wanted to right at once. And... he also didn't feel like he needed to, really. Every experience with Nick was like quenching cool water, calming the burning in his throat and chest. Every time Nick's hands were on him, Charlie felt part of his body relax, finally satiated. And every single sexual encounter with Nick felt like that – a quenching, throat-filling experience.
In late secondary, uni, and through his adulthood, Charlie felt like his sexual experiences had been essentially linear. Snogging on the first date, and then maybe a blowjob. Or maybe it was snogging the first night, and then the second date was blowjobs that led into sex. Either way, those were the three options: kissing, oral sex, and sex-sex.
The times with Nick were entirely unlike Charlie's hookups in the past. It was so different with Nick that the word hookup didn’t even cross his mind when they were together. Their times with each other truly felt like experiences. They just... every single time felt like an authentic experience, something that they did and felt together.
One of those new things happened organically, or as organically as a dick slipping between thighs could be. Nick and Charlie had a particularly fiery encounter in the shower during one of the weeks that Charlie was at Lavender Fields. Out of an abundance of caution for the planet and water table, Nick and Charlie had been enjoying their showers together. It really was only the responsible thing to do in a world of finite resources.
They had been kissing in the shower that day and Nick pressed himself close to Charlie almost as though he couldn't get his body close enough. Charlie loved it when Nick's hands were on him, and he remembered arching his back against Nick, his head leaning against Nick's shoulder. Nick let out a low growling sound and just pressed closer to Charlie. He felt Nick’s penis slip between his thighs. That made him moan and arch even more, starting a positive feedback loop of the two of them just getting hotter and closer, writhing against one another. They were both panting, their bodies slick against one another.
Charlie whined a little bit and moved his arse backwards, just wanting the feel of Nick against him, not necessarily in him. Though of course Charlie wanted that. He wanted that so much. In the moment, though, he just pressed backwards so that Nick's dick slipped downwards and they both gasped as they felt him tuck in between the seam of Charlie's arsecheeks.
“Can we…” Charlie gasped. “Do you want to…”
He wasn’t even quite sure what he was asking, but all he knew was that he wanted. Nick mumbled something incomprehensible, his voice lined with a moan. Charlie stepped his feet slightly apart and Nick moved forward, now slipping between Charlie's inner thighs. They both groaned, and Charlie inched his feet and heels back together to clench his legs together in a vise around Nick’s dick. The sound that Nick let out was one that was going to live in Charlie's fantasies for the rest of his life. Although this moment was quite literally a fantasy in itself.
Nick behind him.
Nick thrusting his hips up and between Charlie’s legs.
Nick's hands grabbing him from behind.
Charlie's hand splayed out on the wall to hold himself steady, his legs wobbly.
Nick's lips against Charlie's ear, murmuring endless beautiful words and sounds.
The feeling of Nick and the friction of him against Charlie.
Charlie loved this. He was incredibly turned on after only a few moments and he felt the waves of hovering pleasure building low in his torso, a flaming pleasant heat in his genitals. Charlie knew that if he didn't encourage Nick to keep going right then, that wave would ebb away and it would take some time to build back. That was just how things had always worked for Charlie: He was either ready to go in five minutes, or if that first cresting moment passed, it would take fifteen or more minutes. That wasn't a bad thing at all for him, but Charlie didn't want Nick to have to work so long and so hard just to pleasure him. With the rising, swelling feeling Charlie gripped his thighs together and guided Nick’s hand around to his dick. They both worked Charlie to completion together while Nick thrust behind him, following Charlie over the edge in just a few minutes.
They had so many experiences that were new for Charlie. That sense of newness wasn’t limited to or defined by the way their bodies touched or interacted together, but more in the dynamics and feel of everything. With Ben, Charlie had often vacillated between feeling like an obligation and an object. With Nick, Charlie felt like he was so many things: a partner, an equal, a participant. Sometimes Nick did make him feel like an object of lust, something that made Charlie squirm in embarrassed delight that he eventually softened into. And it felt so authentic – it was Nick authentically wanting Charlie.
Charlie was continually amazed by Nick, and not only by the way that he could ooze sexuality and desire, but all of it was underscored with such respect and kindness. Charlie was surprised by the desires that Nick had, ones that he’d never gotten to experience with another partner.
Just a few days after the incredible intercrural sex in the shower, they’d both been drying off after yet another shared shower. Charlie was closer to the towels, so he took one and wrapped it around Nick, cuddling him from behind in a close bear hug. Nick sighed happily and murmured, leaning his head back and exposing his throat. That made Charlie groan and then kiss the side of Nick’s neck, both of their breathing picking up. Charlie’s hips twitched upwards as they murmured and frotted against one another in front of the mirror. Charlie opened his eyes and met Nick’s gaze in the reflection. He was astonished to see the way Nick was biting his lower lip, eyes dark with lust.
Nick arched his back invitingly against Charlie, moving and whining a little. His voice was breathy and high. “Do you want to…?”
Charlie let his eyes drop down in confusion to try to understand what Nick was saying, looking at the position of his body and Nick’s body and what they were doing and it all clicked into place. Nick was asking if Charlie wanted to do the same thing that Nick had a few days before. “Oh!” he exclaimed, too taken aback to say anything more eloquent at first. “You – you want me to…?”
Nick met Charlie’s gaze again, his soft brown eyes creased with the tiniest edge of worry. “Unless you don't want to…”
“Oh my god, I do want to do that,” Charlie burst out in a delayed reaction, nodding furiously.
“I want to do that too,” Nick said immediately, and Charlie's breath trembled in anticipation at the idea of them doing that. In that position. They stumbled into the bedroom, hands all over one another. After a moment or two, Nick extricated himself and went over to his bedside table, taking out a bottle of lube.
Charlie looked at him, dumbstruck. “You have… lube?”
Nick looked at him askance. “Yes? Why, is – is that weird?”
Charlie shook his head emphatically. “No,” he breathed. “That is fucking fantastic.”
Nick laughed and then shot Charlie a criminally flirtatious look over his shoulder as he went to lay on the bed, hitching one knee up. Charlie watched, his jaw slack and tongue feeling too large for his mouth, as Nick rubbed lube between his thighs. His arse cheeks glistened and some combination of a moan, whimper, and whine snuck out of Charlie’s thought in a long, agonised utterance. He was again a man dying of thirst and a world covered in over 70% water wouldn’t stand a chance. In a second he was on Nick, rolling his hips against Nick's arse as the two of them met in a loudly harmonic cacophony of heightening anticipation.
Nick was arching back and threw his head towards Charlie, who took the not-so-subtle hint. He slipped himself in between Nick's thighs, and then wrapped his arms under Nick’s shoulders to drag himself up and down Nick's body as he pressed his hips forward. It felt so… it all felt so new. So satisfying and so close and new. All of it was unfamiliar, but not an unfamiliarity tinged with anxiety. It was just different and exhilarating in that difference. Charlie had already been nearly out of his mind with pleasure and lust when Nick slipped a hand underneath his hips to rub against the tip of Charlie's penis as he thrust forward. That had sent him into the other throws of ecstasy, biting against Nick’s earlobe and keening with soft, crooning cries as he finished.
It took Charlie a bit to fall asleep that night, his mind giddy as it tried to believe this entirely new world that he was getting to explore with Nick. It was refreshing and exciting to not go in a linear path, with clearly defined milestones that Charlie knew he needed to accomplish in a certain time to keep a partner interested. It didn't feel like that with Nick, not at all. It felt like it was just... them. Charlie didn't know how to say it better. It was just him and Nick and they loved being around each other. They loved trying things with each other, and it didn't feel weird or juvenile or immature. It wasn’t Charlie trying to figure out how to connect with Nick, it was them connecting.
With that thought on his mind, Charlie slipped into his dreams, the hint of a smile still on his lips.
-
Beyond the sex, everything else was good, too. It was all so, so good. Over two and a half weeks, Nick and Charlie just lived life together.
Their days were spent in fairly predictable patterns: Nick would take care of guests in the morning and Charlie would help. Charlie would work throughout the day, and then they would join back together in the evening. Sometimes they would crash back into each other with a passion, and sometimes it was gentler and quieter. Charlie loved it both ways. They had those moments where sparks flew between them in the bedroom, but they also had moments where they lived quietly next to each other, on their phones. He also loved the nights where they just watched a film together and made dinner, exchanging soft kisses before they fell asleep.
Charlie did particularly enjoy the nights when they watched films together, Nick surreptitiously wiping away a tear and burying his face in Charlie’s chest during any scene that approached a semblance of emotion. They’d joked that Nick needed his own version of a content warning before a film, and Charlie would provide him heads’ up in the form of how sad a film was on a scale of 1 – The Fox and the Hound before they began watching.
They made and ate dinner together most nights, though they did go to town a few times as well. Charlie loved their film nights together, but he might have loved their dinners more than anything else. They'd either sit in the dining room if there were no guests around or in Nick's upstairs living room and eat and talk.
One of Charlie's favourite things was that they seemed to be able to talk about absolutely everything. And truly – everything. Charlie had known which topics to avoid with Ben, the ones that made his mouth twist up in anger and tension. With Nick, a conversational tangent might lead to something unexpected, but that shift never felt tremulous and laced with danger the way some of the talks with Ben had. They’d shift onto something more serious, like Nick's relationship with his father growing up. Charlie tried to be gentle and not pry, but also got the sense that Nick hadn't gotten the chance to talk to many people about what it had been like when he was a child.
In fact, Charlie had the suspicion that Nick hadn't always been fully listened to. He wondered what it had been like to grow up as a true lads’ lad, most of his friendships with heterosexual men. Charlie knew that in stereotypical straight male friendships, there wasn't a lot of talking about feelings and emotions from the past. He knew a bit of Nick's romantic history as well, as Charlie had asked about his past relationships. Nick had talked about his ex Marla respectfully, but not with any burning passion or longing affection. Charlie got the sense that while they were happy together, it hadn't been particularly deep or meaningful for Nick.
(Even so, Charlie hoped that Marla was having a very nice life somewhere in New Zealand and would never return to England ever again. Not that he was jealous. He wasn't. But still, she could stay in another hemisphere forever.)
With the awareness that Nick may not have had many chances to talk about deeper things, Charlie made it a point to listen empathetically to Nick. He would ask gentle questions to try to draw more out of Nick when he spoke about his family, or back off if it seemed like Nick needed a break from the heaviness. As Nick told him what it had been like when he was in primary school and even moving into secondary, Charlie's heart ached thinking of ten-year-old Nick, who just wanted to be loved. Nick was so good. He was so good and so deserving of love, and it absolutely destroyed Charlie to think of anybody who would have withheld that from him.
When that thought struck him – well, Charlie took himself aback a bit. Those were some of the words that Nick had said to him. Nick had said similarly, angry, soothing, disbelieving words like that to Charlie, expressing quiet fury about how Ben had treated Charlie. Words that insinuated how deserving Charlie was of love. He half-smiled to himself in the moment, marvelling at how the two of them found each other.
There were other things, too, just tiny, delicious pieces of what it felt like to taste a life together. Nick taught Charlie the game “my team/your team”. Trips into town turned into giggling, silly experiences where they’d assign people that they met and saw in town to each other's teams. They alternated crowing in triumph and groaning in dismay when claiming a particularly wonderful person or when the other assigned them a particularly terrible pick-up, like a Brad-Chad-Seb mixture driving a sports car whose cost was inversely related to his penis length. There were so many of these tiny moments of levity and connection, private things between them that they could share between them when they were in the larger world.
There were so many tiny perfect moments, like when Nick took his hand in town one day. Charlie remembered looking down at his hand thinking that it didn't actually feel real. He didn't know that real life could be like this. Charlie hadn’t known that a life like that was actually possible when he’d dated other people, and certainly not with Ben.
Ben. The reminders of Ben came up less often and less viscerally when they did. There were entire stretches of days when Charlie didn’t think of him once, a mental peace he hadn’t experienced for nearly four years.
Even the ones that did pop up felt categorically different. Charlie was looking through his messages one day to find a thread with a former colleague when he saw the message thread from Ben, the one that he had muted about a month ago. Charlie’s heart thumped as he scrolled up to the night when Nick had unceremoniously tossed Ben from Lavender Fields, then reading through the series of messages.
Ben : You’re so lucky I even considered taking you back
Ben : I won’t make that mistake again.
Ben : You weren’t even worth the petrol. I should fucking Venmo you for that waste of time
Those first messages had come hours after Ben left, the rest spaced out over the last few days and weeks.
Ben : I’ve told everyone we know how glad I am that it’s over with you
Ben : You never deserved me.
Ben : I bet you’re in love with that massive idiot at the farm
Ben : He won’t like you Charlie
Ben : No one will
Ben : You’re lucky I put up with you so long, no one’s ever going to do that again.
Charlie looked at those messages with an odd sense of detachment. There was also an inkling of something unfamiliar that hovered on the edges of his consciousness, something he couldn't quite put his finger on at first. Later that day, pausing on an afternoon run, he had an epiphany. Thinking about those messages and his dulled reaction to them, Charlie felt authentically powerful. He felt powerful not caring what Ben said. With Nick, Charlie felt like he was in a protective, safe cocoon. He was surrounded by comfort and stability and fortitude, and Ben just seemed… inconsequential. Charlie knew that wasn't quite true; Ben had had massive impacts on him. Ben's impact was going to linger with him for a while, but who Ben was, what Ben cared about, what Ben thought about anything... none of that mattered to Charlie. That realisation and the upwelling of power brought a crooked, proud smile to his face and Charlie thundered through the rest of his run feeling stronger than ever before.
The days melted and blurred into one another until it was time to go to Leeds. Charlie had taken Monday and Tuesday off of work – well, sort of. The new president had some feelings about remote work, and had instituted a policy for anyone with remote allowance. Charlie was now called a 2R, which meant he was required to be in office two days a week. If Charlie took off one of his office days, he needed to make it up with an extra office day in place of one of his remote days. There was no way in fuck he was doing that, so Charlie anticipated a nasty illness developing on Sunday evening. Days in loo didn’t impact the whole 2R thing, which Charlie personally thought was 2dumb to give 2fucks about.
With those days taken care of, Charlie and Nick were going to have two weeks together.
Two weeks.
They were about to have two weeks, together, uninterrupted. They’d spend two days with the Badgers and then two days with just each other, and then have another full week at Lavender Fields. Charlie almost couldn't believe any of this was real. It both felt like he had known Nick for years and as if they’d just met a couple days ago.
He was still honestly shocked that they were going on this trip together. It had taken nearly a year for Ben and Charlie to go on a trip together, and only then it was to a town where they wouldn’t see anyone they knew. This was so entirely different. Nick was taking him to see his friends. All day on Friday before they left, Charlie looked away from his computer to smile at nothing, thrills of excitement and anticipation running through his belly.
He knew Nick had been working hard all day getting the farm ready to be under temporary care for the week as well as his normal work around the farm and so offered to drive, wanting Nick to have some relaxation time. Nick had made blueberry muffins that were absolutely incredible, and they snacked on those while they listened to music. Nick had made a playlist for the trip, and it was hilariously outdated. Charlie didn't think he had ever heard so many ‘90s and 2000s songs since the commercials that he just barely remembered of Now That's What I Call Music. Still, it was impossible not to be drawn in by Nick's enthusiasm, and the two of them sang to *BWITCHED, Ace of Base, Blue, and a nostalgic lineup of one-hit wonders that Charlie had largely forgotten about.
Nick's playlist ran out after a couple of hours, and then they switched to his Discover Weekly on Spotify. The first some came on and Charlie had to smile at the algorithmic sense of humour that the Universe apparently had as he listened to the lyrics.
I wanna dance with you, wildfire
I wanna burn in your flickering light
You and me just run away
You and me just run away
I wanna hold you, my wildfire
And get lost in the glimmering night
We were born to run away
You and me just run away
It did feel like there was a trail of brightness that blazed behind wherever the two of them travelled. When Charlie was with Nick, it felt like bright warmth that looked like so many things. It looked like a game of Would You Rather in the car. It looked like Nick joking about how troublesome a dick down his knee would be and the silly, giggling conversation they had about it. It also looked and felt like their hands gripping one another as they kissed during a stop for petrol. Charlie could almost imagine a line of flames that went following behind their car, the two of them plunging head first into the world together, burning with anticipation.
They were about an hour from Leeds when Charlie got an alert on his phone that interrupted the music. Charlie’s eyes flickered over to his phone mounted on the dashboard holder before he thought better of it, handing his phone to Nick. “Can you tell me what’s on there?”
Nick kissed Charlie’s hand as he took the phone, then looked at the screen. “Uh, it says you have a voicemail. The name says ‘Flat people – Boris’?”
“Oh, shit,” Charlie murmured as he briefly eyed the phone, his heart rate quickening. The flat people. He honestly hadn’t thought of them in weeks. He’d been so utterly unconcerned and unbothered about the London flat that he hadn’t noticed the lack of communication. “That’s the company that’s been updating me on the flat. For my place in London.”
“Oh,” replied Nick, his voice noticeably dimmer than it had been a minute ago. “Do you want me to…?”
A cold vise of anxiety squeezed Charlie’s stomach. What the fuck was going to happen if his flat was ready? What then? “Yeah, can you play it?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.
Nick quietly swapped out the Bluetooth connection and the message began to play through the stereo. Charlie distantly noticed that Nick’s hand had found its way to Charlie’s leg, though it was hard to be aware of with his heart so thunderously loud in its terror.
“Hullo, Charlie, this is Boris,” spoke the cheery though unprofessional Mancunian man Charlie recalled. “Sorry it’s taken us so long to get back to you. I’ve, uh -- my director is here to formally apologise as well on how long it’s taken.”
The message swapped over to the boss-woman’s crisply British voice. “Charlie, I know we’ve spoken before. We feel terribly about how long this has taken. We should have some more information soon on when your flat will be ready, so please call us back this weekend or next week. You’ve been so patient and kind; few tenants would be like that, we do so appreciate that.”
More information soon. Charlie felt his muscles relax just a bit and he dropped his hand to Nick’s, gently stroking Nick’s with his fingers. ‘ More information soon’ meant that there was not information now.
“We’ll continue to forgo your rent as we do the work,” said Boris, sounding like he and Emily might now be on speakerphone. “As Emily said, we’ll have more information later this weekend, but we’re looking at a date likely in March. We know that’s at least a full month away and do apologise again.”
“Sincerely apologise,” added Emily, and Charlie nearly had to pull over with relief. March. March was a full month away. March meant at least four more weeks of sharing a bed with Nick. It meant at least thirty days of building something that maybe – please, god, please – maybe might be strong enough to anchor the two of them when Charlie had to go back to London. He clutched at Nick’s hand in absolute euphoria, and he felt Nick turn and look at him.
Charlie quickly tried to scrub the gleeful smile off of his face and attempted a casual, self-deprecating tone. “Well, fuck. You up for a parasite for an entire additional month?”
Nick heaved a dramatic sigh, though it was belied by the grin taking over his face. “I don’t know, Charlie,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d be forced to spend almost another thirty days with my favourite person. I just don’t think I can handle that kind of stress right now.”
Charlie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Nick had said – Nick had called him – he just said…
“Your favourite person?” he asked quietly, not wanting to scare the words off.
Nick picked his head up from the window and looked at Charlie quizzically, like Charlie was the astounding one. “Uh, yeah?” he said, reaching over to touch Charlie’s cheek and then travelling down to his neck, massaging the muscles while he massaged Charlie’s soul with his words. “You are absolutely my favourite person.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell Mark.”
Charlie burst into a laugh, overwhelmed with delight, surprise, and a deep sense of rightness. Then he sobered a bit, remembering to meet softness with softness and honesty with honesty. “You’re my favourite person, too.”
“What a coincidence,” Nick said softly and Charlie reached behind his head to bring his fingers to touch Nick’s before their mouths touched as well, soft and full of the promise of the weekend.
A coincidence, yes. It had been a coincidence that led to Charlie booking a stay at Lavender Fields, a sun-drenched shot of serendipity and kismet he never thought possible. Charlie pondered that brilliant, beautiful luck as he and Nick drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
He was so incredibly lucky.
-
Nick said that the lads would have eaten with the team and so they stopped for a quick supper, Nick enthusiastically pointing his favourite spots out as they got into Leeds. After supper, Nick took over driving and drove them to Danny and James’s place, pointing out his own flat on the way. Charlie stared at the building for a long time as they drove past, wondering what Nick’s life inside those walls looked like. How was it decorated? What furniture did Nick have? Would Charlie ever see it? Those questions and many more danced through his mind as they drove on and eventually pulled up in front of a semi-detached house with a beautiful garden. Charlie smiled and exclaimed at how adorable it was, then went to gather his things. He looked up in gratified surprise when Nick opened his door and extended a hand. Charlie took it and got out of the car, smiling at the perfect man in front of him.
Nick leaned close to shut the car door behind Charlie and then softly kissed him on the lips as he drew back, only pulling back enough to tap his forehead against Charlie’s lightly. Charlie could see the smile on his face even in the dim light. “Hi.”
Charlie was still too shell-shocked at the idea that Nick would just casually kiss him. On the street. Not at Lavender Fields. He gathered himself and attempted a smile back at Nick, his heart still racing with the surprise. “Hi,” he replied.
Nick seemed to catch onto his wrong footedness, eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Are you sure you’re still okay staying here?”
This made Charlie actually smile. Nick had been asking him this question for two weeks after sharing that Danny had invited/demanded them to stay. “Definitely,” Charlie said for perhaps the fifteenth time. “I really like your friends.”
“Well, they love you,” said Nick casually as he took Charlie’s hand and pulled him towards the house. Charlie stumbled over the first few steps, his legs feeling mechanical.
They love you.
They love you.
(I) love you.
None of that was real, of course, but it still felt deliciously tickly in Charlie’s stomach to imagine that there was any sort of meaning behind Nick’s words. Charlie already knew that he was pathetically and entirely in love with Nick, but that in itself was ridiculous. It was a little less mad on Charlie’s side, since he’d been pining over Nick for months, but still mad. Nick of course didn’t love Charlie, though. They’d only first kissed three weeks ago. Nick was still processing his own sexuality and what it was like to be with his first man. He didn’t love Charlie.
They love you.
Charlie followed Nick to the door on shaky legs. Nick knocked as he was opening the door, and Charlie yelped when Nick essentially disappeared, tackled into the wall by a burly body. He barely had time to process that it was Danny and not some sort of muscular body snatcher when Danny wrapped Charlie up in an embrace, squishing Charlie’s organs all together in his enthusiasm. He dizzily stepped away from the riotous greeting and hugged James in a somewhat dazed way.
The four of them came into the house with a lot of back-slapping and good to see you mate -ing and Danny’s happy chatter. Charlie accepted the drink pushed into his hand as James grabbed Charlie’s things and Danny gave them a brief tour of the level. Within minutes, the group was in the sitting room, Danny and James insisting that he and Nick sit down and relax for a bit after their drive.
“You all travel a lot more often,” Charlie countered, but Danny waved this off.
“We have a coach,” he said. “We can just sit and listen to music and fondle each other’s grundles while we’re being taken from place to place. You can do part of that in the car, but I would guess Health and Safety-lover Nicky boy over there frowns on vehicular fondling.”
Nick laughed and toasted the cocktail he and Charlie had been given. “That’s correct.”
Danny and James were cuddled together in a large armchair, while Nick and Charlie were in the loveseat. Charlie had sat a little stiffly at first, aware that he and Nick were out in public. Not public-public admittedly, but still, they were outside the protective and shielding walls of Lavender Fields. Charlie was fine with and used to that, but all of this was entirely new for Nick – being out together was very different from being out together. Charlie knew that this weekend would be a shift from their cosiness at the farm, but seeing Danny and James like that gave them a respite where they could still be close to one another. Charlie shifted a little closer on the sofa and rested his hand tentatively over Nick’s leg. Nick just smiled easily at him and Charlie fully relaxed, smiling at Nick’s friends. Their friends.
Danny toasted his water glass at Nick. “Welcome back to Leeds, mate.”
Nick grinned. “Thanks. We hit some of the old standbys – Tharavadu for dinner.” James and Danny both made an appreciative sound at that. “Then I think we’ll go to Cork and Café for coffees tomorrow; maybe walk around the university too if it’s not too brutally cold.”
Danny winked. “Yes, do all those wholesome things before tomorrow night. We have a full night of hedonism ahead of us after we destroy Seamus’s team.”
James rolled his eyes with affectionate fondness and addressed Charlie. “Have you been to Leeds much, Charlie?”
“No, not much,” said Charlie. “I had a friend here from secondary who went to Uni, but really haven’t spent a lot of time here.” He and Nick caught each others’ eyes for a moment, and another flush of anxious curiosity skittered through his stomach. Would he spend time in Leeds when Nick came back to coach? Charlie could imagine it – him visiting, the four of them sitting here. He focused back on the conversation, James speaking to him again.
“You’ll love it in the daylight. I reckon you didn’t see much tonight; I’m sure Nick will show you all the best places.”
“Well, he can see the best place tonight,” Danny interjected with a giant stretch and yawn. “I mean, our bedroom is right here.”
The three others laughed, James with a long-suffering shake of his head. Then his face changed, eyebrows raising in a wondering expression. “Actually, god, I’m rude,” he said to Charlie. “Do you want to see the place? We’ve made a ton of changes in here since we bought it, actually.”
James had stood and Charlie got up too, genuinely interested in seeing their place. “I would love to. Your house is gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” James said with an easy grin. He turned to look at Nick, smirking. “Nelson, I think you’re probably familiar with the layout.”
Nick laughed and Charlie did, too, knowing Nick had spent probably hundreds of nights here. “Mildly familiar, I’d call it. I’ll sit this one out.”
James started up the stairs and Charlie moved to follow when Danny called up after them, sassy cheek in his voice. “Oi, my little lemon shark. Show young Charles here the spot where Nick technicolour yawned in the guest room that night after he mixed a bottle of wine with lemon drop shots.”
Charlie’s eyebrows shot up and he snorted, looking at Nick, who was shuddering and covering his eyes. “Please do not do that, James.”
“So you admit it was you!” Danny exclaimed, his delight evident. “After two years, vindication!”
Nick stammered, blushing furiously. “I meant – do not show him any carpet-spots-of-lies, James.” He met Charlie’s eyes with a falsely innocent look. “Nothing happened. I am a distinguished gentleman.”
Charlie joined in on the laughter as he followed James up the stairs to the next level, going slowly up the steps with his eyes travelling over the photographs. There were some childhood photos of both of them, but most of the pictures were of the two of them together. Danny and James kissing, Danny being carried piggy-back by James, the two of them with Harriet and a man who looked like an older version of James. The trip up the flights of stairs felt like Charlie was authentically entering into the shared lives of two people as he looked at their adventures, experiences, and love captured on the walls. It was intoxicating to think of having something like that with someone – especially if that someone was Nick.
They started on the top level, and James showed him the guest bedroom where he and Nick would be staying. There was another bedroom on that level as well, though it had been turned into an office. This was clearly the one room where it was clear that Danny had been given creative authority, and Charlie’s eyes watered at the bright colours and inventive decor, wondering if it was even possible to get any work done in that room. He noted with amused curiosity that James did not show Charlie the closet in that office, both wondering and fearing what might be behind the door. James and Charlie descended to the middle layer and James showed Charlie a room that had been made into an impressive home gym, telling him he was welcome to use any of it that weekend. The final room he saw was Danny and James’s bedroom, a gorgeous and spacious suite with large windows that James said provided a nice view of the river during the day.
Charlie was eager to get to see Leeds in the sunlight. He’d already liked what he’d seen on the brief tour he’d had of the city, thinking that it was so much more manageable than London. Charlie liked city life (Lavender Fields aside), but London always felt so loud and large. Leeds just seemed… easier, so far. He was interested to see what it was like when he and Nick stepped out the next day, with plans to go to the university and walk round a bit.
Charlie and James stepped out onto the balcony off of the main bedroom for a moment and looked over the street, a few people and couples making their way on foot under the lamplight.
“So,” James said, gazing over the street. “How’s it going, mate?”
“The trip?” Charlie clarified.
“Yeah, the trip,” said James. There was a pause. “And everything, I mean.”
“It’s good,” Charlie mumbled, heat rising in his neck like when Darcy had asked the question. It was good. It was so good. He’d been shy when she asked it in front of Nick, of course, not knowing what Nick was thinking.
“Yeah?” James asked simply, still looking away as if to spare Charlie the indignity of observation while he was blushing.
Charlie felt a tug of something comfortable and familiar, the same sort of feeling he had with Elle. James was just… asking. Not with any ulterior motive. He was giving Charlie a space – away from Nick – to check in. His chest warmed at the thoughtfulness and kindness of what James was doing, and the foresight he’d had to pull Charlie away for a moment to see how things were. “They’re great,” he amended, finally looking at James. Charlie was glad he did, gratified to see a smile blooming across James’s face.
“That’s fantastic, Charlie.”
“It is,” Charlie replied with a shaky laugh.
“How’s Nick coming along with…” James cleared his throat. “I know it can be hard to live in the world one way and then start living in it a different way when it comes to sexuality. How’s he doing?”
“Amazingly,” Charlie said in somewhat reverent awe. He truly was astonished at the difference between Ben and Nick in how they treated their own self-revelations. Nick never hated himself, and never turned that anger on other people. “He’s been… he’s just been so, like, comfortable?” Charlie said, the sentence turning up at the end as he searched for the right word. “I honestly think a lot of that is because of you and Danny. I remember thinking when I met you two that I wish I’d gotten to see couples like you.”
“That’s a nice thing to say,” said James, and Charlie could hear the smile in his voice. “Nick’s a good guy. He’s a really good guy,” he repeated, then paused for a moment. “How have you been with all of it?”
“Great,” Charlie said automatically. Because it had been. It had been so blissfully great to get to sleep in Nick's arms and touch his lips in shocked amazement that this was real each morning. Then he stopped, noting how authentically and earnestly James had asked the question. “It’s… I’m doing a lot of unlearning, I guess,” he said quietly. “About what it’s like to be with someone. And about what dating someone good can feel like.”
“I get it,” said James simply, and Charlie could sense the weight behind those words. A few seconds passed. “I don’t know exactly what your ex was like, but from what Amy said, it sounded like he was a real douche.”
“He was,” Charlie agreed. “Is. I can’t imagine that he’s changed that.” He paused and looked at the street again, the impact of that washing over him. “I’ve changed,” Charlie said quietly, saying it to himself even more than James. He had. He’d changed in the way a flower reemerged after winter, its grey-brown petals opening up into something bright.
James let the words hang in the air, nodding along. Then he straightened up and Charlie did, too, the two of them heading back into the house as if in wordless agreement.
“Are you sad about your flat in London?” James asked as he shut the balcony door behind them.
“Not really,” Charlie admitted, and James laughed with surprising volume. Charlie did, too, feeling lighter having confided that naughty fact in another gay man the way that queer people could uniquely connect.
“I get it,” James said with a grin. “I’m glad you have a nice place to stay.”
“A very nice place,” Charlie agreed.
“Well,” said James, walking them back towards the stairs. “We should get back down before Danny starts saying horrifically inappropriate things.” It was clearly too late, though, as James and Charlie reentered the living room just in time to hear Danny preparing to regale Nick.
“Let me tell you about this one thing I like to do with my hands and mouth that makes James absolutely squea–”
Charlie blushed and giggled, but James seemed unaffected. Charlie supposed that was a side effect of living with Danny Turner. “Please don’t horrify our guests, baby.”
Danny batted his eyelashes at his fiance. “I’m enlightening our guests, my picture-perfect penguin.”
Charlie could see the genuine smile on James’s face as he made his way over to the armchair, lacing his fingers into Danny’s wild blonde hair. “Regardless, I think I’m heading to bed.” Danny’s eyes lit up and he scrambled to get up though James raised a warning finger. “No,” he said firmly. “Bamban.”
Danny looked like a puppet whose strings snapped, drooping pathetically. “Bamban.”
Nick nodded knowingly. “Bamban,” he confirmed in an apologetic and empathetic tone.
Charlie was looking round, wondering if he was supposed to remember this term from Nick’s rugby tutoring. Granted, the tutoring recently had been quite hands-on and mostly focused on tackling. “Is this a thing like a ruck or a maul or some other weird-arse rugby term?”
“Oh – god, it’s so stupid,” Nick said, flushing a little. “We had this, like - informal agreement among the team that I guess still carries over? The ‘bam’ part is for Before A Match - it’s a BAM sex ban, which we’ve just turned into bamban as a team. Everyone kind of unofficially agreed that there was no sex the night before a match.”
Charlie looked at the three men, all of whom looked deadly serious despite this being one of the most ridiculous things he’d ever heard. “Seriously?”
“I know,” said James with a conciliatory grin, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “It’s dumb, like Nick said. But some lad on the team like literally decades back said he played better if he was, like, pent-up and then the team went on a winning streak when a bunch of the players adopted it and…” James shrugged with resignation and probably 24 hours’ worth of pent-up sexual energy. “Bamban.”
“Does make for a killer shag after the match, though,” said Danny wickedly, trying his luck as sneaking his hand under James’s joggers.
“And that’s our cue to go to bed, Charlie,” laughed Nick, Charlie giggling and agreeing. They all said goodnight to one another and Charlie followed Nick up to the guest bedroom where they were staying. It was lovely when James showed it to him earlier, and even more lovely with a massive Nick Nelson in the bed. Charlie was busily snogging that Nick Nelson a few minutes later, riding high on the feeling of getting to be with this man out in the world. Charlie knew the next day would be very different when they went into the true world, and he was prepared for that. He and Nick wouldn’t touch (just like he and Ben during their early trips) around other people, but he knew Nick wouldn’t exhibit the same attitudinal coldness. Nick would still be Nick.
God, Charlie loved Nick.
He was thinking about that mad, silly thought as the two of them pressed close in bed, their bodies warming one another beneath the sheets. Charlie loved the sound of Nick’s gasp as he sucked Nick’s lip into his mouth before releasing it, then bringing his mouth close to Nick’s ear. “So,” he murmured, timing a suck of Nick’s earlobe with a tug of his hair, Nick softly moaning. “Sucks about the bamban for you.”
Nick’s voice was breathless and it sounded like he was struggling to get every word out. “I… don’t… play any more,” he managed to get out. “Perks of… retirement.” The last word came out as a tortured groan, and Charlie could feel Nick’s bambanned dick pressing against him, heedless of the rules to which it had been bound.
“Well, Mr Pensioner Nelson,” Charlie purred as he slid down Nick’s body, suddenly energised. “Let’s see what it feels like to come before a match, then.”
Judging by the sounds and twitches of Nick’s body as he came, it appeared that it felt very, very good.
-
The weather the next day was bitingly cold, and Charlie didn’t even pretend to protest when Nick suggested that they just snuggle in bed instead of walk. Nick nipped downstairs to get coffee and tea for them, and he and Charlie spent the morning snuggled in cosy comfort, watching videos together on their phones. There was a TV in the room, but neither of them even seemed to think about it, huddling together around the small screen instead.
While Charlie enjoyed the theory of going to the match, his enthusiasm was dampened by the sound of the howling wind outside the warm house, and he turned up the heat in the car to what Nick dubbed “boiling lava hot” on the way to grab another coffee and some breakfast before the match. Charlie was going to get all of the warmth he could before subjecting himself to the homophobia of reduced atomic motion. Nick excitedly told him about a café he loved, and as soon as the door opened, Charlie knew why. It was warm and bright, and a woman with brown and grey hair rushed over as soon as they came in, wrapping Nick in a warm hug and exclaiming that it had been too long.
“It’s so good to see you, Meg,” Nick said warmly as they separated. “How’re the kids?”
“They’re great.” Meg immediately took out her phone and opened her lock screen to show two dogs: a stocky, spotty white one and a more gangly and goofy-looking lab mix.
With the temptation of dogs, Charlie couldn’t help sneaking a look. “Oh, god, they’re so cute!”
Nick started and shook his head as if annoyed with himself. “Meg, this is Charlie,” he said, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. “He’s my–”
“I’m his friend,” Charlie offered with a smile, shaking Meg’s hand. He could have let Nick say it, but Charlie was far more used to this part, and wanted to make it as easy and smooth as possible for Nick.
“Charlie’s been staying at Lavender Fields, the place that my mum keeps,” Nick told Meg, touching the spot between Charlie's shoulders. Charlie smiled back at Nick before remembering himself and nodding in confirmation.
Meg nodded, her eyes on Charlie for a moment before smiling at Nick again. “That’s right. How have you been handling it? Customer service and hospitality are completely different from rugby, but I’m sure you’ve done well, you absolute doll.” She grinned fondly at Nick, but didn’t wait for an answer, turning right to Charlie. “Is he a wonderful host?”
Charlie smiled authentically, filled with pride at how truly great Nick was and wanting to share it with the world in the small, platonic ways he could. “The best.”
Meg beamed and Nick did too. Meg hustled them to a table and brought over delicious chai tea lattés, absolutely delicious ones. In the low murmur of the shop, Nick and Charlie could speak without being overheard.
At one point, Charlie looked up from buttering his scone to see Nick smiling at him as though in awe. “What?”
“I just…” Nick shook his head as if in amazement, and smiled at Charlie. “I just love being here with you. I love having you here in Leeds. And I can’t wait for the part of this trip where it’s just us.” He sighed dramatically, grinning. “I’m so attracted to you, Charles Elvira Spring.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie laughed, the amusement covering up his staggering surprise. Nick just… gave him words like that? Generous, life-changing words, given without expectation?
Nick looked at Charlie, some of the humour fading away, replaced by a soft, authentic expression. “Seriously,” he said quietly. “I cannot believe I get to be with you.”
Charlie blushed furiously, then forced himself to look at the most wonderful man in the world. “I literally think that every day.”
Nick’s face lit up, a slow-rolling delight that made Charlie nearly squirm with joy. “You do?”
“Oh my god, Nick,” said Charlie, half-amused and half-exasperated at this stupendously non-self absorbed man. “Yes. I – literally every day that we wake up together I keep thinking that I made it up in my head.”
Nick goggled at him. “I feel the same way!”
Charlie dissolved into giggles and let his head fall to the table, feeling as though he’d had champagne instead of chai. He turned to look at Nick, head still on the tabletop. “Why are we like this?”
Charlie remembered where they were and almost straightened up when Nick mirrored him, resting his head on his forearms as well. “Just lucky I guess,” he said softly. They stayed in the shop only a few minutes more before Nick said goodbye to Meg and they headed out, Nick driving Charlie’s car.
They were greeted by a tall man who Nick called Omari at the gate, who saluted and grinned broadly. “Good to see you back, King Nelson!”
Charlie pulled his lips in, though his smile made it hard to do. “King Nelson?”
“It was from a few years ago,” Nick scoffed, a blush clear in his neck. “I had this tackle that popped the ball loose and then Shea and I converted it and…” Charlie was half-listening, already typing rugby king nick nelson into Google and then immediately switching over to the images tab. Nick craned his neck over to see what Charlie was doing and spluttered. “Are you Googling me?! With me in the car?! That has to break some sort of Geneva Convention code!”
Charlie giggled as he held up a picture of Nick, hoisted on the Badgers’ shoulders, then brought his phone back to read the entry, eyes growing with each word. “This says that you converted the try during extra time with literal seconds left to keep you all in the Premiership League!”
Nick touched the back of his neck in an adorably embarrassed way. “Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Here I am with actual royalty,” Charlie mused, letting his eyes wander over Nick like he was admiring a piece of art. “And I haven’t even kissed your hand yet.”
Nick raised his chin and held the back of his hand to Charlie’s mouth. “It’s not too late, peasant.”
Charlie acted as though he was going to kiss Nick’s hand, but instead, licked his knuckles. They were still laughing about it with each other as they pulled into a team spot and Charlie pulled on layer after layer. He got out of the car minutes after Nick, who looked at him with his lips quirking.
“What?” Charlie asked, looking down at himself.
“Nothing,” said Nick innocently. “Just… I thought the Arctic already had been explored.”
Charlie attempted to cross his arms, though in truth he actually couldn’t. Instead, he put his hands on his hips, bowed at an awkward angle due to the seventeen layers of wool he was wearing. “It’s cold!”
Nick smiled and hugged him for a moment. “It’s not the surface of the moon, Char. I’ll keep you warm.”
“When you’re dying of hypothermia in thirty minutes, don’t come crying to me. Regardless, your tears will be frozen, so you’ll have trouble crying anyway.”
Nick laughed against his ear and gave Charlie another squeeze before they approached the door to the stadium. “Ready?” Nick asked, holding out his hand. Charlie stared at for an awed moment before taking Nick’s outstretched, gloved hand with his mittened one.
“Ready,” he said quietly. Though Charlie knew that they’d drop hands when they walked inside, his throat still tightened at the symbolic, tender gesture from Nick. By taking his hand for that brief moment, Nick was showing that no matter how differently he acted inside the stadium, they were still who and what they were together. The connection would end, but the fact that Nick established it made Charlie happier and more grateful than he could say. This man. This perfect man.
“Let’s go,” said Nick.
Charlie gave Nick a shy smile, then Nick reached forward to open the door. It was time.
Notes:
I am traveling this week and with very little spare time, so no recipe today - I am very sorry! Next week is another Lavender Fields week 💜
Chapter 54: Charlie's POV: Badgers
Summary:
Charlie and Nick go to the Badgers match and Charlie is 0%, not-at-all attracted to Nick Nelson. Charlie has an illuminating call with the flat-letting people, Boris and Emily.
Notes:
Oh, there are just so many lovely people in the world. Thank you to my darling Waveofyou and the heroes that are songbird3724 and bi_panic_actually who were able to help when life was life-ing real hard. You three (and NSB, who deserves a lovely break!) are the Ben Wyatt, Ann Perkins, and April Ludgates to my Leslie Knope.
I recently was able to do an interview with Abdel. Abdel has done a series of 27 interviews with Heartstopper writers, and it is such a well-done series. Thank you so much, Abdel!
Finally, with last week’s chapter I have posted over a million words. I am very proud of myself for this 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nick began to whine almost as soon as they walked in the door. Charlie watched with amusement as the giant, strong man in front of him turned into a large toddler, wriggling around as he immediately began to pull off layers.
“Stripping down so soon, Innkeeper Nelson?” Charlie teased, the anxiety in his belly about being in public already fluttering away, just getting to be with Nick and joke like normal. “I’m honoured, but not in your place of employment.”
Nick let out a snort of laughter, and then slumped over in a hunch-backed posture of defeat as he continued pulling at his clothes. “I’m so hot.”
Yeah you are, Charlie thought, as if he’d willed the words into audible format, a cheerful woman’s voice calling out the exact same phrase. He and Nick both looked over and Charlie saw a pretty woman with light brown hair walking towards them, a grin on her face.
“Immy!” Nick gave the woman a hug, then immediately turned and looked at Charlie, gesturing from the woman to him. “Imogen, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Imogen; she heads up the Badgers PR arm and is fantastic.”
“It's so nice to meet you!” Imogen beamed, wrapping her arms around Charlie in welcome. Charlie was nearly used to instantaneous physical affection by this point, Nick's friends having all embraced him both figuratively and literally. They separated and Imogen smiled. “How do you know Nick?”
Charlie blanked for a moment. He had gotten so comfortable with Nick's friends that he almost said something dangerously inappropriate, like that he had been living with Nick. That would have invited too many questions and implied too many things. He smiled at Imogen and recentered himself, remembering firmly that it was different now that they were in public together. “We’ve been friends for a bit; I’ve been staying at Lavender Fields while my flat gets fixed up.”
“That's nice,” Imogen cooed, giving Nick a warm smile. She turned to Charlie. “Isn't the inn absolutely gorgeous?”
“It truly is amazing,” Charlie agreed, nodding. “So I assume you've been up there then?”
“Only once,” Imogen sighed. “Back when Sarah was running it there was a big group of us who went up.”
“Like, members of the team?”
“Yep,” Imogen confirmed. “God, that was a few years ago. Everybody went with the person they were dating at the time, and it's so funny to look at how most of that has shifted.” She lowered her voice and spoke conspiratorially. “Be glad you never had to meet Seamus’s ex, Kate. She made apple juice feel spicy.”
Charlie laughed, already at ease. “So Amy was a step up, then?”
“Oh, god, yes,” Imogen agreed. “Yeah,” she said, considering. “I think that the only couple still together from that trip is Danny and James.” Imogen looked at Charlie with haunted eyes. “I’ve never heard anything like that in real life before.”
Charlie nodded. He understood that now. Imogen laughed and started telling Charlie a story about the person she had been dating at the time, some rich bellend who turned out to be a twatrocket, as Imogen put it. Charlie nodded and laughed at appropriate times, but his mind was drifting a bit, imagining what it had been like those two years ago at Lavender Fields.
He assumed that Nick had been dating Marla then, and Charlie truly didn't have any jealousy about that. But he was jealous of the ease that Marla and Nick would have been afforded as a straight-passing couple. If the two of them had gone somewhere, they could have just told people that they were dating, or even said nothing and had it be like it was nothing. Them travelling together would have raised no eyebrows, caused no outrages, threatened no one. With Nick and Charlie, there was so much that needed to be orchestrated and carefully managed. Charlie knew that this was just how it was, though. It was different for people not in straight-passing relationships. That sucked, but it was the way that it was.
Charlie refocused himself as Imogen wrapped the story, and she turned to address Nick who had looked to have spaced out a bit. “Are you all set for your seats and everything like that?” she asked.
Nick smiled first at Charlie, and then at Imogen. “Oh, yeah. Erin got us all figured out.”
“Great,” Imogen chirped and patted Nick affectionately on the arm. Charlie felt another forlorn wave of jealousy ripple through him. Again, the jealousy wasn’t about Imogen touching Nick, which was perfectly innocent. The envy was for the ease and familiarity of the gesture. It was the fact that Imogen could casually rub Nick's arm and have no one think anything of it. Charlie couldn't have the same thing. “I need to run and manage the media hordes,” Imogen said. “I’ll see you two out tonight, yeah?”
Nick and Charlie both nodded and said goodbye to her, and then Nick walked him through the stadium. They started up in the head offices, Charlie following Nick around as he pointed out various departments. The office was relatively quiet, with so many people in the stadium or attending the match at the time. They met a few people, though, and Charlie continued introducing himself as Nick's mate as they made their way around to avoid any awkwardness for Nick.
They eventually made their way down to the part of the stadium that housed all of the areas where the players spent most of their day. Charlie recognized a few of the places from where Danny had enthusiastically swung the phone around when he and Nick had FaceTimed with him. Though he’d seen some of them, it was completely different (and less nauseating) from this viewpoint. Charlie enjoyed getting to see where Nick had spent so much of his former years. The way Charlie had known Nick, it was always as Lavender Fields Nick, not Badgers Nick. It was different and fun and thrilling to get to think of Nick as a professional athlete, warming up in these rooms and spending his days doing something he loved.
They peeked inside the media room and Nick explained what it was like before and after matches, as well as the process for who ended up speaking to the media. The last place that they went was into the physiotherapy hallway, a series of heavy-looking wooden doors leading off of it. Nick led Charlie though an open door, pulling it behind him. Charlie took in the space as Nick hopped up on the table as if the motion was automatic.
He was quiet for a moment as he looked around, eyes travelling over the walls. “I spent a lot of hours in here my last couple seasons,” he said, his voice reminiscent. “Knee, back – all types of stuff the last few years I played.”
Nick and Charlie had spoken a little bit about this; how different it was for Nick to transition to a new life after one spent playing rugby. Nick told Charlie how lost and anxious he had felt during the end of his last season, when he knew he couldn’t keep playing rugby but didn’t know who he’d be without it. Nick had confided that he'd probably hung on one year too long, when injuries piled up and took too long to come back from. Charlie thought about that now, studying Nick's face for any signs of sadness to be back in the room where he’d been trapped after injuries.
“Yeah?” Charlie asked quietly.
This was yet another new experience for Charlie, to even ask a question like this with the expectation of a response. Ben wouldn't have opened up about something difficult or potentially vulnerable like this. Ben wouldn't have even wanted Charlie to ask about something hard, accusing him of being annoying or too therapized or harping on him. Nick wasn't like that, though. Nick wasn’t like that at all. Nick wasn't hard edges protecting even more rigidity and hardness underneath – he was strong, soft lines. Nick was both strength and tenderness at the same time. It was that tenderness that Charlie was thinking of right now, the gentleness and sensitivity that existed within Nick that Charlie thought didn't often get a chance to be heard.
“Do you…” Charlie started, then stopped again. “How does it feel to be back here?”
Nick nodded for a long moment before responding, as if he was actually considering Charlie’s question. Because he was, Charlie realised with another warm sweep of amazement. “It feels… well, it was the right time. I miss it, but it feels like a different chapter. When I come back, I’ll be with the team, not on it. And I think that’s where I’m meant to be right now.”
Charlie nodded, and a little knot of anxiety loosened in his chest. He hated the idea of Nick being sad and forlorn, desperately missing something precious in his life. “Yeah? he asked, stepping closer to where Nick was sitting on the table.
Nick smiled at Charlie, and it was like being bathed in soft light. “Yeah. I miss it. I mean, I miss it a lot. I miss the fun and challenge and routine of it, but then, being at Lavender Fields has given me some of that back, the routine part at least.” Nick nodded as if to himself for a moment and then paused. He looked at Charlie, his brown eyes expressive. “And being there means I met you.”
Giving. Nick was so giving.
Charlie didn’t know if he’d get used to being given kindness like this. He blushed deeply, then tried to cover it with a joke. “Are you sure it’s not just the cows? And the chance to bake things for people?”
“I like those parts, too.” Nick laughed, but there was a low timbre to his voice that made Charlie’s stomach draw up in tingling excitement. It was that gravelly, almost lupine edge that absolutely drove him mad. Nick was watching Charlie from the physiotherapy table with his hands gripping the edge, his biceps offensively large underneath his long sleeve shirt.
Charlie reached out to touch those muscles, physically unable to stop himself. “And you also get to still use these strong rugby arms,” he said, the desire flowing heavily through his veins like warm treacle. Seeing Nick here in this rugby stadium where Nick used to play. Hearing Nick say things like that. Nick, even taking Charlie’s hand for a moment before they walked in. God, it was all so much hotter than Charlie had ever imagined. He ran his hands up and down Nick’s rugged arms. “Throwing down hay for the cows…”
Nick’s words came out as a purr. “Throwing someone down on the bed.”
Charlie tried to smooth over his raging hormones with a sniffed-out laugh. He moved closer, drawn to Nick like their bodies were inescapably pulled towards each other. “Still, back in this room… I bet you came in here when you needed to get some knot worked out of a muscle.” Charlie’s mouth was at the exact same height at Nick’s with his position on the table. Charlie leaned forward a bit. “Reckon you need some… work?”
“I do,” Nick whispered, the word coming out a combination of a laugh and an erection-inducing moan. He roughly pulled Charlie forward by the hips so their bodies were pressed together, Charlie now in between thighs so meaty they would have made a butcher swoon. “I’m so terribly injured.” Nick was breathing the words against Charlie’s ear, whose legs were nearly giving way at how fucking hot this was. “I have this knot right on my inner thigh, really high, maybe you can work it out for–”
“You horny little monsters!”
Charlie nearly stumbled backwards in his panic to get as far away from Nick as possible as quickly as possible. He hadn't heard the fucking door open, and he cursed himself for being so stupid. Charlie whipped his head around to see the speaker, though his heart was already recovering as he recognised the voice.
“No sex in my physio rooms, none!” Amy was saying, laughing and wagging a finger at the two of them, now several feet apart.
“Like you never have,” Charlie managed to scoff, attempting some bravado.
This was fine; it was Amy. But what if it had been somebody else? He was such an idiot to do something like this and potentially expose Nick. Nick had been so kind and so giving and had even taken Charlie's hand in the parking lot to show him solidarity, and this was what Charlie did with it? He looked over desperately at Nick, who seemed to be doing all right. He was shaking his head at Charlie's comment, looking slightly concerned. “Of course she hasn’t. No one would actually hook up in the physio rooms.”
Amy raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “Right,” she said with exaggerated stiffness. “She... hasn't. No one would do that.”
Charlie pressed his lips together to keep down the snort, which was largely from Nick's puzzled, joy-stolen expression. Before Nick could ask any follow-up questions that would inevitably result in an answer that would break his spirit, Amy waved at the two of them. “I have to run, I was just checking in with Stig in the other room before the match. See you two after?”
Nick and Charlie both called out goodbyes to her, and then Nick slid himself off the physio table as Charlie cleared his throat, the room almost entirely silent as the oak door fully shut this time.
“So – shall we get to our seats then?” Nick asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, still furious with himself even if Nick didn’t seem to be. Charlie knew that things were completely different being in public. He knew that. He knew that Nick was a public figure. Charlie knew that Nick was not out. He knew that Nick wouldn't want any tongues wagging from anything that happened at this match.
Nick had invited Charlie on this trip and to this match, and Charlie had done that? He had been over the top like that? That was some thanks to give back to Nick. True, he wasn't outwardly upset, but Nick was too kind to make Charlie feel badly about his major overstep. Charlie knew though that he needed to back off and make sure that everything else was completely neutral – just two mates attending a match together.
They made their way through the stadium, though they were stopped over and over by people who were excited to see Nick. He was pulled in endlessly for hugs and handshakes and back slaps. He always paused to introduce Charlie, and Charlie jumped in every time to introduce himself as Nick's friend to spare Nick any extra effort, especially after the scene he caused in the physiotherapy room. Charlie had already caused enough stress.
Nick led Charlie to their seats, and Charlie took a moment out of his self flagellation to appreciate just how good they were. They were right behind the Badgers bench, close enough that several staff members turned around and shook Nick's hand when they saw the two of them arrive. The team was warming up on the pitch, and the cameras were alternating between showing the players and then highlighting people in the stands as they waved and tried to get on camera. Charlie was looking at the screen when he saw himself and started. Granted, he only saw a slice of himself: The camera was focused on Nick and the crowd was going absolutely mad. Nick waved and there was an increase in the raucous cheering, the fans clearly pleased to have their former captain back.
Charlie felt another sick twist in his stomach. Be cautious, he told himself. You need to be careful how you act. This type of shrouding was entirely different to Ben, of course. He didn’t need to be cautious, afraid that Nick would slice into him with harsh, sharp words afterwards. Nick wasn’t going to punish Charlie by withdrawing when they were alone again.
No, Charlie was cautious and careful because far more important than he himself getting hurt, Nick could get hurt. Nick didn’t ever deserve hurt. He didn’t deserve undue scrutiny. Nick deserved only comfort and softness. Anxiety gnawed inside Charlie as he considered the ways he might have already unintentionally impacted Nick by sitting too close, smiling too suggestively, laughing too brightly. Setting aside the physio room thing, Charlie was being far too familiar.
Once the cameras shifted to another spot in the stands, Charlie tentatively glanced at Nick, his heart going double speed as he thought about how to broach the bubbling apprehension in his chest. “You really are going to be shown a lot, huh?”
Nick looked directly back at Charlie. “I am.” he said. “We are.”
Charlie nodded. “Oh,” he said. He sat in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. Charlie needed Nick to know that it was okay to treat him like a mate, a hanger-on pal who wanted to go to a rugby game with his friend. He wanted Nick to know that Charlie was completely fine with them being hidden. Nick deserved the safety of getting to live his private life like that – privately. Charlie started and aborted a few sentences, not sure how to word it. “Are you... do you…” Charlie struggled, but then Nick – gentle, wonderful, perceptive Nick – saved him.
Nick was already shaking his head before Charlie got more than those stumbling words out. “Nope,” he said, his voice sure and steady. “I don’t care. I’m not worried. I’m here with you, Char. And anyone is welcome to see that.”
Charlie could feel himself drawing back in his seat, absolutely and physically struck by how astounding Nick was. Then Nick actually tucked his arm with Charlie's, hooking their elbows together. He squeezed Charlie's arm against his body for a moment and gave him a warm smile, then withdrew his hand. “As long as you’re still okay with it. I’m happy to do whatever makes you comfortable.” Nick gave him a soft smile which then faded for a moment to a silly expression. “I won’t paw you,” He said with a faux mournful tone, then it shifted to authenticity again. ”But I’m not going to avoid you, either. Again, if you’re okay with that.”
Charlie was nearly too staggered to speak for a moment. Nick had everything to lose.
Everything.
Nick could be exposed as queer. He might have his entire life upended. People might change their perception of him. People might think differently of him. People might judge him even just being there with Charlie, even if they didn’t know that the two of them had something happening between them. And yet, Nick... Nick didn't care? Or rather, Nick did care. Nick cared enough about Charlie and how he felt that he didn't care that people might see them there together. It was so astonishing and so life-changing and so beautiful that Charlie needed a moment to let the world reassemble beneath him, holding him in an entirely new way.
Charlie realised that Nick was still looking at him with his soft brown eyes and he smiled back at Nick, his body more relaxed than it had been all day. “Oh,” was all he could manage at first. “I’m… yeah. I’m definitely… okay with that.”
Nick gently bumped him on the shoulder, a soft moment of affection punctuated by an even softer look. “Let’s watch some rugby, yeah?” he asked.
“Okay,” Charlie said quietly, still marvelling in awe at the man beside him. He felt immeasurably lighter as the match began. The pre-game festivities were as much fun as the match would be itself. The first time that Nick and Charlie saw the Badgers at play, it was in London and not in their home stadium. It was so much fun watching people that he actually knew being introduced and hearing the crowd’s reaction. There seemed to be a tradition with each player - a “Yee-haw!” when Tex was announced, then a wolf-whistle that reverberated around the stadium when James was introduced. Danny of course got a massive cheer, and Charlie laughed aloud when the crowd went into spitting, nonsense-garbling impressions of the Looney Tunes Tasmanian devil all together.
Charlie knew he was going to be hoarse by the end of the match with how much he was already cheering just from the player introductions. Most of the crowd jeered when the Sharks took the pitch, though Seamus did get a round of applause. Charlie looked surreptitiously around to see if Nick was cheering for Seamus and when he saw that he was, Charlie joined in as well.
The match began, and Charlie followed it as best as he could. He knew which colour the Badgers were wearing and he knew which direction was the happy direction, but not much beyond that. Still, he was deeply invested in the match. When the Sharks scored relatively early in the match. Charlie felt legitimately disappointed, leaning back in his seat and groaning.
“Oh, no!”
“I know,” Nick lamented, shaking his head and meeting Charlie’s eyes in a look of shared disappointment. There was an inexplicable ghost of a smile on his face that Charlie didn’t understand, but it faded as the next phase began and Nick’s full attention shifted back to the pitch.
It was utterly adorable how Nick quietly muttered and spoke throughout the match, urging a player and gesturing with his head for where he thought the ball should go. Charlie knew that Nick was going to be an absolutely brilliant coach. It was actually astonishing how often he predicted something would happen and then it did. Charlie’s chest twinged with a mixture of pride and mourning to imagine Nick as a coach. Before Charlie could ruminate too much on what it would be like once their time at Lavender Fields ended, Nick’s former captain Wilco showed up.
“Annette and the kids are inside,” he said in response to Nick's query about the rest of his family. “She said she had no need to prove how tough she was when it was il fait un froid de canard.”
Charlie thought he recognized the expression as some French idiom about the cold, but then all of the words and rationality left his head when Nick responded laughingly in throaty French, saying something that Charlie’s sizzling brain didn’t quite catch.
French.
Nick responded in French.
Nick spoke French, like… perfectly.
Charlie breathed heavily through his nose, willing the blood in his body to go absolutely anywhere except one specific place. Nick spoke French. That was fine. It was normal. It was no big deal.
ItwasthebiggestfuckingdealthathadeverhappenedinCharlieSpring’sgoddamnedlife.
Charlie managed to get his breathing and hormones under control and shifted his focus back to the match, trying very hard not to imagine Nick narrating the match in French.
Oh god.
Charlie re-refocused and ended up getting fairly into the match as play restarted after Sale scored. Wilco was just as kind and patient as he had been at the match in London, pointing things out to Charlie and responding to his questions. To his own surprise, Charlie authentically was interested in learning more. He would ask Wilco about a particular play or why a player did something, and Wilco would explain it to him, Nick sometimes jumping in as well.
The three of them watched intently as James ran up the field after receiving a pass, eventually touching the ball down and scoring – a try, Charlie recalled. His pride at his vocabulary recollection dissolved from his brain when Nick seized him in a giant hug, Charlie wrapping his arms around Nick back and enjoying how heterosexual sports viewership could actually be really gay. Wilco hugged Charlie, too, then the three of them laughed and toasted one another with their drinks.
Charlie grinned madly watching Danny jump on James's back and affectionately rub his hair, then whoop and slap him on the arse. Tex scored as well, and Nick and Charlie got to hug again. Charlie was so desperately grateful for the offensive prowess of the Badgers because it meant that he then got to embrace Nick Nelson in a totally bro, platonic, buddy, pal-y way. Charlie hoped that the final score was somewhere north of 150,000 points in order to afford a maximum amount of societally-accepted hugs. However, as sports gods were wont to do, the gay-affection-hating deities decided to frown on Charlie after that. Sale scored, and then the Badgers received several penalties to end the half.
When the whistle blew to signal the break, Charlie stood up on stiff legs, only now realising how fucking freezing he was. “I'm going to go inside for a few to warm up,” Charlie said between chattering teeth.
“I can come in with you,” Nick offered, already standing, but there were several people around them calling for his attention.
“No, stay here with your adoring fans, Rugby King Nelson,” Charlie grinned.
Nick rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Are you sure?”
“You stay out here, you absolute nuclear power generator.”
Nick laughed and squeezed Charlie's arm as he passed. It was just another gift of affection that Nick gave him, despite being around other people. Charlie smiled back at the face he loved, feeling warm despite the freezing temperatures.
“Go up to the hospitality suite,” Nick told him. “The badge Erin got you will get you in there.”
“Thanks,” Charlie responded gratefully.
He made his way inside, and then asked a security guard how to get to the suite. The guard escorted him to a private elevator that he took up to the top of the stadium. Charlie walked towards the hospitality suite, its door wide open. It was loud even in the hallway, people milling about in expensive-looking clothing. Charlie hung back, feeling shy. He turned as he heard a voice come from behind him.
“Charlie?”
Charlie swung around and smiled when he saw it was Annette. “Oh, hello,” he said, relieved to see someone familiar.
She smiled and drew him into a warm embrace. “Trevor has told me that you were coming to the match today,” she said. “Have you come with Nick?”
“Yes,” Charlie replied. “We just drove up last night.”
“That is lovely,” she said with a smile. There was a happy glimmer in her eyes. “And this is a trip that the two of you have gone on?”
Charlie looked carefully at her, not wanting to give anything away, though it sounded like she was trying to offer an opening. “Yes,” he said cautiously. “We drove up together.”
“Together,” Annette repeated, smiling. “‘Together’ is such a nice word. I am glad that you and Nick have come here ‘together.’ Both of you deserve a lovely ‘together’.”
Charlie felt a little piece of himself relax and he smiled back at her. She knew, and that was wonderful. A grin pulled at his lips and he nodded, that same sense of happy relaxation and acceptance stealing back over him. “I'm also really glad that we came here together,” he said quietly.
“Well,” said Annette briskly. “Now you and I are together for a moment at least! Come in, you can prevent me from having to speak to the benefactors who enjoy telling me how many Mercedes they own.”
Charlie laughed and joined her. He said hi to her and Wilco’s kids and spoke with them for a few minutes until it was time to head back to the match.
“Are you coming down?” he asked Annette as he pulled his coat back on and filled up a travel cup with coffee.
Annette gave him a doubtful look. “Charlie, my darling, I am an orchid. I have a very slender temperature range at which I am comfortable and the current temperature does not meet my needs.” Charlie laughed, feeling warm and bright. She smiled and hugged him again. “Will I see you this evening?”
Charlie blinked. “Oh – are we all doing something?”
“Of course,” Annette said. “There is always a gathering after a match, and I have the sense that Nick will want to show you off a bit.”
Charlie blushed, unable to come up with a coherent response. This was entirely uncharted territory for him – to be shown off. Perhaps Annette was just flattering him or there was a language barrier that made it seem more romantic than it was, but even so, the idea made Charlie melt. “I’ll – then… well, I'll see you tonight, he said, stumbling over his words a bit.
Charlie made his way back to the seats, the cold immediately burning at his skin. He warmed a bit when Nick beamed at him and touched Charlie between the shoulders as he passed. Charlie sat and they smiled at one another wordlessly for a moment before Nick leaned to the side and bumped Charlie's shoulder with his own.
“Are you ready for the second half?” he asked, his voice low and warm.
“I'm ready,” Charlie said, smiling.
I have the sense that Nick will want to show you off a bit.
As the match began and the second half kicked off, Charlie couldn’t wipe that smile off his face.
-
The second half ended up being just as exciting as the first, if not more so. Sale scored, then the Badgers did, and then Sale again. This time Charlie didn't even need to try to remember the scoring term. Oh, god. Nick had ruined him. The Badgers had possession for the majority of the last ten minutes, but just couldn’t score. When the whistle blew, Charlie groaned along with the rest of the crowd, devastated to see that the Badgers had lost.
He looked nervously at Wilco and Nick to see what their moods were like. Ben had always been furious when things hadn't gone his way. Even if the anger hadn't been directed at Charlie, Ben's bad mood would infect everything. Nick was slumped back in his chair and Wilco looked frustrated, shaking his head and sighing.
“What happens now?” Charlie asked apprehensively.
“We give them a bit,” said Nick grimly. “That was a tough loss.”
“Yeah, that was shite,” groused Wilco. “They need you there to give the player perspective, Nick; it’ll make such a difference with you on the bench next year.”
Charlie's stomach squeezed again at the idea of Nick not being at Lavender Fields anymore, though he knew it was patently ridiculous. Charlie would also not be at Lavender Fields. It wasn't like they were living in the same place and then Nick was going to leave unexpectedly. They both had somewhere to be. They both had home. As much as it felt like it sometimes, Lavender Fields wasn’t home. That was Charlie being overly romantic and sappy and stupid. Charlie was just there by dumb luck – he should have left months ago. It was completely irrational to be sad about the idea of Nick in Leeds. Charlie would be in London. They would both separate and depart at some point, though Charlie still didn't care to think about that.
He looked over at Nick, and any worries that he had were quickly swallowed away. Nick was absolutely glowing at Wilco’s compliment, and Charlie felt a wave of tenderness. He loved seeing Nick happy. Charlie wanted to do anything that would give Nick that look again.
The three of them waited until the crowd had mostly dispersed, then made their way inside. The players filed by, looking dejected, and Charlie wasn't even sure if he should wave. Danny still gave Charlie a jaunty salute, though his exuberance was slightly dimmed.
“Come on,” said Nick quietly. “Let's head back to Danny and James's house and wait for the lads there.”
They weaved their way through the stadium, their pass taking them through a tangle of reporters and camera people who were intent on chatting with Nick.
“Nick? Can we get a moment?”
“Nick! So good to see you back mate! How are you feeling about next year?”
“What would you have changed about the phase calls in the second half, Nick?”
“I'm just here to watch as a fan,” Nick said over and over. “Thanks, everyone, great to see you all.”
Nick guided Charlie through the crowd of people. His hand was light on Charlie's elbow, gently steering him through. They finally got through the throng of people, Nick opening the door for him, and they emerged into the outside air again.
After the overwhelming swirl and tangle of bodies and people, the air actually felt cool and refreshing this time instead of oppressively cold. Charlie breathed out a huge sigh, his breath condensing white in the air. “God, that’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Nick, sighing. “I don’t miss that part as much. You get used to it, at least to a degree, but it’s never easy to do that whole junket. And just to have so much attention on you, you know?”
Charlie went to respond, and then stopped. He was going to say something soothing and agreeable, affirming what Nick said. He stopped himself, though, because he didn't know what it was like.
He knew what it was like to have attention on him and Ben. At least, he knew that was what Ben's perception had been. Ben had assumed that everybody was looking at him and looking at them, though that honestly was rarely true. With Nick, it actually was true. Nick, who was so much more welcoming and open and kind with his affection than Ben, actually had eyes on him. It was almost funny how the two men were a complete juxtaposition to one another. Charlie had gone from one to the other, and Nick’s steady kindness was still so new, the ultimate lightness to the dark. He nodded, deciding to remain wordless for a moment, and they got in the car, shutting the doors.
“Hey,” said Nick softly, looking at Charlie.
Charlie turned his head to look at Nick. “Hey,” he replied.
There was a pause and then Nick reached out a hand and placed it on Charlie's cheek. The warmth of his fingers on Charlie’s skin could have let him go without a jacket. There was a pause, and then Nick leaned over and kissed Charlie softly on the lips before pulling back. “Hi,” Nick said once again, this time with a smile.
Charlie let out a breathless laugh, completely overwhelmed with happiness and disorienting newness. “What was that for?”
“For not being able to do it earlier,” Nick said. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then closed it, running his thumb along Charlie’s lower lip.
“Oh,” Charlie said quietly, blushing down all the way to his toes, too soaked through with joy to produce anything else.
“Come on,” Nick said. “Let's pick up some supplies to cheer the boys up when they get back.”
Nick and Charlie drove to a few places, the most important of course being the corner shop. Nick explained the cultural significance of bagged wine to Australian heritage (as per the Doctrine of Danny), and they picked out some of the finest boxed wine known to mankind. Well, perhaps not finest, but most drinkable. Though – yeah, drinkable might have been a stretch. However, Charlie was confident that they picked out the world’s most okayest wine. After stopping again to get some of Nick’s teammates' favourite snacks, they went back to Danny and James’s.
Charlie was still chilled even an hour later, and Nick wasted no time drawing him upstairs and wrestling Charlie to the bed. Nick took his time in warming Charlie up, running his hands first up and down his clothed body. Then Nick insisted that Charlie needed to strip off so he could apply mouth-to-skin resuscitation. He pressed his mouth everywhere, eventually taking off his clothes and pressing their skin together. The two of them stayed cuddled together close, Charlie absolutely melting under Nick’s touch. With Danny and James due back any minute, Nick and Charlie didn’t do much more than kissing, but Charlie didn’t need anything more, at least not now. They had both started to doze off in one another’s arms when both of their phones went off with a message from Danny.
Danimal: Finish up your shagging, lads, we’re coming back in about ten minutes.
Danimal: So that means YOU need to be coming on each other’s backs in 9 or less minutes
Danimal: Ha
Danimal: Coming
Danimal: Sex
Danimal: Okay love you see you soon xxxxxx
Nick and Charlie both laughed at the message, then finally made their way out of bed to shower together. They got downstairs just as Danny and James entered, Danny bursting in the door with characteristic volume. He flung his bag into a corner and flopped into a chair. “I’m completely miserable, San Diego,” he bellowed. “The mutual pity-shag in the car after helped, but this still sucks.”
“Babe you can't – that… not when we have company. Ugh – whatever.” James was blushing as he grabbed Danny's bag and his own, bringing them upstairs and saying things about horrifying their new friend.
“Sorry about the match,” Nick said to Danny with an empathetic wince.
“Me fucking too,” Danny agreed, looking dejected. “I think we should declare war on Ireland to punish that cheeky little drongo Sale bastard in retribution.”
“Yes, global violence is definitely the answer,” James agreed, flopping onto the chair next to Danny and laying his head on Danny’s shoulder.
There was a moment of silence and then Charlie looked at Nick questioningly, who nodded. Charlie reached over past the side of his chair and held up a silvery bag of wine. “We got… goon?” he said hesitantly.
Danny's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright in his chair like he had been summoned by some sort of higher, drunken, pan power. “Charlie. Fucking. Cuntrocket. Spring. You FUCKING legend. Let’s go!”
Danny positively bounced to his feet and slapped the bag of wine, then opened his mouth expectantly at Charlie, who laughed. He opened the nozzle and let it flow into Danny's mouth. Danny raised his fists over his head as he drank, swallowing the wine and giving the bag a firm slap. “Let’s fucking go, lads!”
That set off a round of determined and assertive drinking, and Charlie could feel the heaviness of the loss running away with every glass of wine that they downed. Which was many. Many glasses of wine. They had very very very very many glasses of wine. Some of those glasses of wine were small ones, such as the ones they drank when they played wine pong. Despite the wine being some of the most acid-adjacent liquids Charlie had ever imbibed, he was having a fucking blast. Yes it was disgusting, but he was also laughing so hard that at one point goon came out his nose.
The other part that was more fun than Charlie ever could have imagined was how goddamn handsy Nick was. With just the four of them, Nick was glued to him like a koala to a chlamydia tree, as Danny called it. Nick and Charlie were obviously on the same team for wine pong, and Charlie marvelled at the fact that Nick just held him as they played. It was such a beautiful juxtaposition to when they’d played tiny beer pong at Lavender Fields and had tried (soooooo successfully) to hide their affection from their friends. His arms would drift up and down Charlie's back, pull him into a hug, snuggle him into his chest, wrap around him before he threw. Charlie was too surprised to reciprocate at first, but he very quickly got comfortable, nuzzling against Nick and making Danny beam with pride.
“Every time one queer gropes another, an Aussie gets their boomerang,” he said fondly, making Charlie snort-laugh.
He and James were even more physically affectionate than Nick and Charlie, an impressive feat with how determinedly Nick was clinging to Charlie. James ordered an Uber for the four of them, Danny and James taking one row of the XL and Nick and Charlie taking the other. Conversation was minimal in the car, mostly because both pairs of men were tongue deep in each other's faces. Charlie got out of the Uber feeling distinctly mussed, his lips kiss-swollen and hair a mess. He also felt more pleased than perhaps he had ever been in his life, positively glowing with what it felt like to be so openly physically affectionate around other people, particularly other men.
The Uber had pulled up at a bar, a three-story place that was already thrumming with people. As they walked in, the lads told Charlie a bit more about the bar, which was called The View. It was where the team went after many of their home matches, and the Badgers had a long relationship with the place. The whole third floor was open air, and half of the patio space had been reserved for the Badgers.
The four of them went upstairs, a massive cheer rising as they entered. Charlie had been expecting it to be freezing cold, but there were heat lamps all around the roof. He was still taking in the sea of people when someone grabbed his arm, whisking him away from Nick.
“There you are!” Amy exclaimed, pulling Charlie into a fierce hug.
“Amy!” he enthused, hugging her back. “I'm sorry about the match.”
Amy shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin. “Terrible for the team, excellent for my vagina,” she said. “Seamus is going to be fucking chuffed, which means I’m going to get fucking stuffed.”
Charlie paused in horror. “That… might be the most disgusting thing I have ever heard.”
Amy beamed and shimmied her shoulders. “Aw, thanks, babe! Now we need to get you a drink.” She took Charlie by the arm and led him to Seamus and Imogen, who were already standing by the bar.
Imogen turned and grabbed Charlie by the shoulders, her eyes wide. “You didn’t tell me you were Nick’s boyfriend!” she squealed.
Charlie looked quickly at Amy, who shrugged and grinned. “That was all Danny. He’s been bragging about you and getting to be friends with you all evening.”
“I’m not… we haven’t… there’s not, like, a label…” Charlie mumbled, gratefully accepting a cocktail from Seamus in his overwhelm.
Imogen laughed and wrapped an arm around Charlie. “Based on the way Danny says that Nick talks about you, there’s definitely a label,” she said.
“I… maybe,” Charlie replied, both blushing and drinking furiously.
“If it walks and talks and sounds like a boyfriend, it is,” Amy announced. “And Nick Nelson is entirely Charlie-Spring-boyfriend shaped.”
Boyfriend.
In his alcohol-soaked mind, Charlie let himself marinate in that delicious idea. Charlie and Nick, boyfriends. Boyfriend carried a different weight to it than guy I share a bed with sometimes, particularly when talking about the future when they both left Lavender Fields. That felt… Charlie shook his head to try to shake the fantasy out of it and shake sense back in. It would be stupid to put a label like that on something that had an end date. That would be locking them in before the inevitable separation, which felt like far too much to ask or even hope for.
Fortunately, the others had moved on from that terrifying and thrilling conversation by the time Nick made his way over, standing closer to Charlie than what might be socially acceptable. Charlie kept edging away at the beginning, wanting to make sure that Nick wasn’t just stumbling over accidentally. However, Nick just slid closer, every time. The two of them drifted around, every person welcoming and warm. Charlie and Nick occasionally separated, but continually drew back together, shoulder to shoulder. Every time Nick touched Charlie on the back or arm Charlie felt a piece of himself settle down, wrapped into the warmth and security of Nick’s comfort with him.
Things only got better when their group went back to Danny and James’s place, the hours having passed far more quickly than Charlie would have thought possible. Once they were there, Charlie felt the same cocoon of protection that he had at Lavender Fields, wrapped in the affection and safety that was afforded by privacy. It was clear that Nick felt that way, immediately wrapping himself around Charlie once they were in an Uber and then back at the house. It started more casually at first, Nick laughing at something and squeezing the back of Charlie’s neck at the same time, then letting his hand linger. But Nick got progressively more overt with his affection, delighting Charlie with every touch.
Their hands were on each other’s legs on the sofa. Nick’s chin was hooked over his shoulder, somehow trash-talking their flip cup opponent like a true lad’s lad while at the same time snuggling his arms round Charlie. Nick and Charlie were sitting on the worktop together, their legs tangled. Charlie kept looking at their bodies and how they were unapologetically and unabashedly touching. His brain felt like it was spinning in a field of daisies with its little pink noodly arms flung out in delight. That image could have been mildly influenced by the alcohol. Maybe.
Charlie wasn’t sure when he’d last had such a good time. There wasn’t a single person who treated him like he was below them or not part of the group. There was no partner who was cold and distant, punishing Charlie silently whenever he made an unaware misstep. There was just laughter, dancing, and drinking.
A lot of drinking.
Charlie could feel how drunk he was when he and Nick were dancing in the middle of the living room at Danny and James’s house, light from the disco ball that of course Danny had turned on dappling their faces. Charlie grabbed at Nick’s arms a few times for balance, the two of them laughing and stumbling a little as their bodies moved, pressed close together. He looked at Nick, feeling like the melting and star-eyed emojis at the same time. Charlie was a melting star. Or his eyes were melting out, burned out by stars. Something like that. He gazed at Nick, wondering if science had progressed enough where he could shrink Nick into a tiny little sponge-man that he kept in his pocket and then could re-hydrate to grow a full-sized Nick Nelson wherever he went.
Charlie smiled blearily at the gorgeous, un-spongy man in front of him, who was saying something. He focused himself – maybe Nick was speaking French. And maybe he was using French words like mon amour. Or cheri. Or eh, Charlie, how you say - I am in the loves with you?
Nick was saying something. He was saying something that made Charlie lean closer to try to hear over the music. “I don’t want to be friends,” he was saying. Wait, that wasn’t French. Charlie frowned a little, confused at why Nick wasn’t saying magical sexy words. But then he did, to Charlie’s spine-dissolving delight. “I like you, Charlie. I like you so much.”
Charlie beamed at the non-French-but-still-panty-dropping words. He grinned and pressed into Nick’s body, hugging him close. “I like you too, so much. So, so, shooooo much.” That was weird. Was the word ‘so’ supposed to have an H in it?
Nick was half-yelling adorable things at him over the music. “I like touching you! I missed doing it all day. I just wanted to kiss you all day.”
Charlie gasped. He wanted to kiss Nick all day. And Nick wanted to kiss Charlie? What were the fucking odds? “I wanted to kiss you too!”
Nick was looking at him with lamb-like eyes. Charlie wanted to snuggle him forever. “I don’t want you to be my friend,” he said again. “I want you to be my boyfriend. Can you be my boyfriend? I want to be boyfriends. Are we boyfriends?”
Charlie gasped again, and he could feel his eyeballs dry out with how wide they were opened. Did Charlie manifest this? Did Charlie have actual magical powers?? “Oh my god, Nick, is that a real question?”
Nick looked instantly worried, drawing his chin back into his chest. “Uh… yes?”
Charlie flung himself at Nick to kiss him, both of them staggering, their balance off. Boyfriends?! Fucking boyfriends?!!? Charlie had to text Amy. No, she was here. He had to tell Amy. And Anita. And Elle. And People Magazine. And – wait. Nick. Nick first.
Charlie and Nick sloppily kissed for a minute, and then Charlie clutched at Nick’s shirt, attempting to make eye contact. It was odd; it was as if his eyes were having trouble focusing for some reason. “I want that shooooo badly,” Charlie said, an H sneaking in again. “I want to be boyfriends with you!”
Nick looked dazzled. “You do?!”
Charlie nodded, his eyes huge and lips pursed. “Oh my god Nick, I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for years!”
Nick giggled, high and silly. “Char, we only met in Septemember.” Charlie frowned. That didn't sound right. Hadn’t they met in Octember? “Sep-tem-ber,” Nick said.
Wow, Nick was so smart, Charlie thought, gazing at him adoringly. He nodded enthusiastically, then giggled, holding up his forefinger and thumb a millimetre from each other. “That’s a tiny detail.”
“God, Charlie. I - you…god, you’re amazing,” said Nick, pulling Charlie close again and drawing his fingers into Charlie’s hair. Charlie closed his eyes in utter bliss as Nick murmured amazing things. “I love your hair.” He kissed Charlie and then drew back. “I love your eyes.” Charlie lurched forward this time and landed a kiss mostly on Nick’s mouth. At least 39% accurate. “I love… I love this song,” Nick said, the lights sparkling over his face. “Will you dance with me?”
“I will dancsh with you, Nick Nelshon,” said Charlie, his heart soaring “I will always dansch with you.” They took each other’s hands, and Charlie danced with his boyfriend – his mothafucking BOYFRIEND!!!!!! – their bodies close together, hot and gyrating. It was truly the best night Charlie could ever remember.
-
Everything was awful.
Charlie had gotten used to waking up hugging a firm, strong presence. What he was less used to was waking up and immediately wrapping his arms around the toilet, the cold porcelain far less comforting than Nick’s arms. He’d woken up ungodly early, his mouth inexplicably both cotton-dry and watering at the same time. Charlie had waited for the lurching, puckering feeling in his stomach to pass, but it very much did not. He bolted to the en-suite, tugging himself regretfully out of Nick’s arms. After expelling everything that existed in his body, Charlie was working up the energy to flush the toilet when he heard Nick.
“Char?” It sounded like he was still in the bedroom, and Charlie hoped Nick’s legs had painlessly fallen off so he wouldn’t see how much of an apparent 16-year-old drinking in a friend’s house he was at the moment. The thought of drinking sent another surge of nausea through him, and he bent forward again, this time ridding himself of all nutrients and memories that had been stored in him since the late nineties.
“Oh, Char,” Nick said sympathetically, now right behind Charlie. “Are you okay?”
Withering with sheepishness, Charlie flushed the toilet and managed a thumb’s up, Nick laughing softly before turning a light shade of green. “Ugh,” Charlie muttered, averting his eyes. “Don’t look at me. This is so embarrassing.”
Nick let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes and sat next to Charlie, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “No, what’s embarrassing is saying that I can’t drink like I did in my twenties and then proceeding to drink exactly like I was in my twenties. Do you want some water?”
Charlie smiled weakly and nodded. Nick was so good, even as Charlie sat here on his deathbed. Well, deathtile. Deathbed would have been a far better way to go than this. Charlie sipped at the water and looked up at Nick. “Is this hell?”
Nick winced and nodded, clearly in the same shape as Charlie. “Yes. And hell has the brightest fucking overhead lighting I have ever seen.”
Charlie nodded vehemently, but the motion was a massive mistake. He and Nick slowly got up like rheumatic pensioners, slowly making their way downstairs. They had debated getting back into bed, but both of them agreed that they’d never get out, and maybe if they were closer to coffee they could absorb it via osmosis. The two of them settled onto the sofa, Nick dragging a blanket over him and Charlie. They cuddled together, and that was nice. It was like putting a bandaid on top of an amputation, but still – nice. Despite his body probably feeling miserable, Nick wasn’t mean or short or brusque. He was the same kind Nick, asking what Charlie needed as they lay together.
Amy and Seamus came downstairs, similarly haggard. The four of them reclined on the sofas, quietly talking and dozing until they heard the loud thumping of footsteps down the stairs, Danny bursting into the room and bellowing Natasha Bedingfield’s Unwritten, James following behind with red eyes.
“Staring at the blank page before you,” Danny sang, arms spread wide as he visited each of them briefly like a demonic giant fairy. “Open up the dirty window – let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find–” He paused and looked at the lumps in front of him, shaking his head ruefully. “Some of you aren’t releasing your inhibitions and feeling the rain on your skin and it shows.” The group laughingly complained and Danny reacted with characteristic silliness, avoiding the pillows thrown at him and claiming he was nourished by their hatred before James pulled him into a chair.
“Turner, how are you okay?” demanded Seamus. “You went just as hard as all of us last night.”
Danny grinned. “Oh, I threw up in the shower this morning. Felt much better after that.”
Charlie winced and laughed, feeling at least the tiniest bit human again, though there was still a long way to go. More people came over, including Emma, Lunker’s partner. Charlie remembered her from the night before – they had talked about books, he recalled. Jasper Fforde, in fact, who was one of Charlie’s favourite authors. She and Lunker sat on the floor near Nick and Charlie and Charlie and Emma joked around, exchanging some memories of the night before.
As he and Emma spoke, Charlie remembered a few more bits of the evening before. He vaguely recalled taking shots of Limoncello around midnight (a horrid mistake), followed by shots of tequila about five minutes after midnight (a mistake that felt akin to failing to purchase Bitcoin in 2010). There had been dancing and flip cup and… god, something else. It felt like there had been something important that had happened, but Charlie couldn’t put his finger on it. As he caught up with Emma, he tried to bring it to the front of his mind without any luck.
It seemed less important when Nick pulled Charlie between his legs, snuggling him close and making Charlie melt against his body. He’d melted, but then his eyes had opened wide in a momentary panic, recalling that they were around other people. Charlie glanced sharply around the room, but no one seemed to care. Here, with these friends, they could just… be. He smiled gently as Emma started chatting with Lunker, burrowing back against Nick’s chest and feeling Nick’s arms around him.
Charlie’s eyes were just starting to close when his phone went off, and he blinked at the unexpected alarm.
[11:00] Reminder: Call flat people
Oh, yeah. Charlie had set an alert after the flat people had called the day before. Charlie hadn’t done much in the way of following up in the last few weeks. By that – well, he hadn’t done anything. Charlie hadn’t done anything because he didn’t want to. He just wanted to be with Nick. Speaking of, Nick stretched at the sudden noise and made a soft curious sound.
“Shit, this is my reminder to myself to call the flat people back,” Charlie explained. “There was no time to do it yesterday, and I think they only work certain hours on the weekend, I’m assuming.” He sighed and went to rock himself forward to get up, but then Nick wrapped two thighs like muscular tree trunks around him, holding him fast.
“No,” he declared. “You are my heat source. And comfort object. No leaving allowed, sorry.”
Charlie tried to respond, but his brain was a bit busy at the moment.
THIGHS.
He touched Nick’s leg, trying to beat back the horniness that was bounding into his low belly, kicking the nausea out of the way. “These are… you are strong,” he said, attempting and failing to keep the breathiness out of his voice.
Nick grinned that sexy half-smile of his. “I eat my vegetables.”
“Fine,” Charlie conceded, re-immersing himself in the Thighs of Power and Delight. “I’ll call them from here.” Charlie rang Emily first, but there was no answer. He left a quick message saying that he was returning his call, trying to sound chipper and that he had no worries, but not so unworried that Nick would think Charlie was trying to stay forever. “I’ll try the guy, too - Boris,” he murmured for Nick’s benefit, phone at his ear again. There was no response again, and Charlie figured that maybe they didn’t work at all on Sundays.
“Oh no,” Nick said in mock dismay. “Now we have to lay here again.”
Charlie giggled. “Because that was impossible to do on a phone call?”
“Shh,” Nick said sleepily, laying a finger to Charlie’s lips and then exclaiming with surprised laughter when Charlie faux-attempted to bite it. “Don’t argue with my infallible logic.”
Charlie sniffed out a laugh and the two of them settled back into the sofa, Nick’s arms warming him. He had no idea how long they had been asleep when his phone buzzed beside him, the display showing Flat People - Emily. Charlie sighed and slowly pulled himself away from Nick, who mumbled something but stayed asleep.
“Hello?”
“Charlie, darling, it’s Emily from the letting agency. You right?”
“Yeah, I’m well,” Charlie responded, slipping out the door to the garden to not disturb Nick and the others. “I was just–”
“Returning our call, yes,” Emily interrupted. “I have Boris here in the office with me as well, and we wanted to again apologise. I know it’s taken far too long.”
“It’s no problem,” Charlie said in the understatement of his life.
“Bloody oath, mate,” came Boris’s voice, sounding as though he was a little ways away from the phone. Charlie thought he heard Emily sigh and he grinned. He wondered what it would be like to work with a lad like Boris. “We wanted to give you an update – and I hate to say it, but things are looking a bit shi–”
“Bit shaky,” Emily spoke over Boris. “It’s the beams, you see. The ceiling was made to accommodate 8x8 inch beams, which is not the industry standard. It's normally 4x4 inches, or sometimes 4x6.”
“Size matters,” Boris interjected.
Charlie silenced a giggle. “Anyway,” Emily continued, exasperated. “For beams that size you need an old growth forest, and it's rather difficult to get permits for those forests. Often, those trees and their usage are claimed months before cutting.”
Charlie nodded, not fully understanding but getting the gist. “So… do you have a timeframe?” he asked, not truly wanting to know the answer. He secretly hoped that all wood in England was claimed until the next millennium, give or take a few hundred years.
“We do,” Emily said apologetically. “It sounds like we are looking at another one to two months at least.” She paused, while Charlie's heart grew three sizes, thinking of how many nights that would be with Nick. “How much of a challenge is that for you?”
It took Charlie a moment to respond, as he was so overjoyed and slightly overwhelmed at the idea of getting two more months with Nick. Two months of waking up together. Two months of holding one another. Two months of joining hands over the table as they ate dinner together. Two months of Lavender Fields and kisses and jokes and thighs and portrait people. “That’s – that’s no problem for me,” he managed, keeping himself from shrieking with joy.
“You’ve been such a love about this,” Emily simpered, sounding relieved. “We do hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.”
“It’s been fine,” replied Charlie with yet another understatement.
“Have you had a decent place to stay?” asked Boris. “We hope you’ve been able to spend the deferred rent money on a lovely place.”
“I’ve been staying with…” Charlie blushed, stopping himself from gushing about Nick to two total strangers. “I’ve been staying somewhere where I’m really happy, yeah.” He let himself grin in Danny and James’s garden, marinating in the deliciousness of how happy he really was.
“Well that’s just utterly brilliant,” Emily replied, the relief evident in her voice. There was a pause and Charlie heard some muffled sounds through the phone before Emily spoke again, her voice now sounding a bit harried and different, somehow. “Well, pip pip and cheerio!” she said. “Must dash, chat soon, Charlie!”
The call ended abruptly and Charlie looked down at his phone in some confusion before shrugging. Something must have come up in the office and Emily needed to ring off. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that Charlie and Nick had two more months at lavender fields.
Two more months.
Charlie was still glowing about that, and with everyone seemingly asleep in the house still, he was too keyed up to go back inside and sit quietly. He opened his phone again and tapped on Tori's contact in his Favourites.
“Hello, Charles.”
Charlie snorted. “Victoria.”
“How’s your trip with Nick?”
Charlie grinned at the crisp way she hit the K sound. “It’s been really nice.”
“And you stayed at the fraternity house? How has it been being a cast member in the film Old School, Charlie?”
Charlie laughed aloud, rolling his eyes. Tori had been very sceptical of him and Nick staying with rugby lads. “It’s been great, honestly. Everyone is fun to be around. I think you’d like all of them.”
“Mm,” Tori replied dryly. There was a pause. “How’s the first trip going together?”
“Amazing.” He could hear the smile in his own voice.
“Not getting sick of each other, then?”
“I don't think I could.” At that, Charlie blushed, even though she couldn’t see him. “I just like… it’s just great being around him.”
“Well done, then,” said Tori briskly. “It sounds like you're both happy.”
“We are,” Charlie agreed. “Well – I am. I can’t speak for Nick.”
Charlie could practically hear Tori rolling her eyes through the phone. “I’m sure he is, too. I saw the way he looked at you like a love-struck puppy when I saw the two of you playing rugby at the inn.”
The heat rose in Charlie's neck, giddy and unstoppable. “What?”
“Charlie, I may have not seen many rugby matches, but I would assume most of them don't include tackles that end in cuddling.”
He snorted and started to reply, then looked up as the back door opened. He was surprised to see Nick, Danny, Amy, and James all standing there, the latter three looking oddly uncomfortable. “I – actually, it seems like everybody just woke up,” Charlie said to Tori. “Call you later?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Charlie said goodbye to his sister, and then looked expectantly at the four people in front of him. Nick was the first one who spoke, his face looking grave.
Nick nodded firmly at the other three. “Charlie, this lot has something to tell you.”
There was a pause, and then there was a rush of words from Amy and Danny, with James occasionally interjected.
“Okay, so, maybe your flat in London is ready…”
“It might have been ready weeks ago.”
“Yeah, I heard that, and I also heard that it might not have had all of the issues that you were led to believe.”
“Like, maybe it never had woodworms in it at all.”
“And Jesus Christ, if it did have woodworms in it, those beams would have taken for-fucking-ever to get; we researched it and they are very very hard to get!”
“Oh, yeah, okay, so we might have pretended to be the people calling from the flat.”
“I’m Boris.”
“And I’m Amelie.”
“Emily.”
“Oh, yeah, Emily. Yes, she is me and I am her.”
“I wanted it to be Boris and Natasha like the Bullwinkle cartoon, but Ames wouldn’t-”
“We lied to you and Nick, Charlie-”
“We lied! We are terrible! We feel so terrible!”
“...Except that it made you and Nick pash, so we don’t actually feel that bad - I mean, like, if you could have supplied the canvas that the Mona Lisa was painted on you’d feel pretty good about yourself, yeah? We basically did that, we’re kind of heroes…”
“But it was dishonest and wrong and now we’ve maligned the name of woodworms-”
“We have besmirched them!”
Charlie’s eyebrows raised higher on his forehead with every passing second, so much that his eyeballs started to feel dry. They – what? Amy was… Emily? Danny was Boris? James was – well, Charlie had no idea what James was. He tried to follow the crossing words and exclamations, mind racing through the last few months to try to make sense of all of this. Tara and Darcy’s name came up and Charlie was positively boggled, wondering if this might be an alcohol-induced dream.
“We’re so sorry, Charlie.”
“We’re sorry to both of you, really – god, please don’t let this mess anything up.”
“We know that you might never trust us again, and totally get it–”
“Truly, we just wanted you to be happy, and you seem so happy!”
“But we’re sorry.”
“We are. So sorry.”
Danny, Amy, and James all stopped talking, and looked at him with trepidation. Charlie paused, trying to piece his brain back together after it had exploded in a confetti of confusion. It all seemed blindingly obvious now – there had been signs the entire time. There had literally been endless signs. Truly, it was as if Charlie had read the plot to the movie Signs before seeing it, and was still surprised by the ending. Apparently his brain had just refused to take any of it in, throwing up a black CENSORED bar any time logic tried to enter the equation about what was happening. He thought of the Nando's gift card that had been attached to one of the emails. He reflected on Boris cursing constantly and saying borderline inappropriate things. Charlie thought about Danny's incredible ability to parrot accents, James's gentle question about his flat the night before, and the fact that Evan was apparently dead.
Thinking about all of this now, Charlie put one hand to his face, and started to giggle. It had all been Amy and Danny. They had literally impersonated people in order to try to get him and Nick together. And the amazing thing was... it fucking worked. “Oh my god,” he choked out through laughter. “You absolute menaces.” Amy laughed loudly, a wild-eyed and crazed sound that Danny joined in on. Charlie looked to Nick, wondering if he was part of it. “Did you know this?!”
Nick looked panicked. “No! I literally just found out five minutes ago. I heard you talking and I saw Amy’s phone light up earlier when you called the flat people, and I went to investigate.”
“Nick is a very good investigatory journalist,” Danny enthused to Charlie, still looking a little apprehensive. “You should keep him around in case there are crimes committed at Lavender Fields, like any of the crimes against decency that certain Badger-y men may have committed during the nighttime hours.”
“I… fuck!” Charlie giggled, remembering all of the vulgar, Mancunian-voiced things “Boris” had said. He was speaking to Danny that whole time. “You two have very convincing accents. And how did you make it not your numbers?”
Amy looked a bit freaked out too, still. “Google Voice…” she said, trailing off. She looked at Charlie, genuine worry on her face. “Are you mad? You should be mad. We’re so sorry, Charlie.”
Was he? The answer was immediate and bone-deep. “I… no. I’m not mad,” Charlie said honestly. “If I had left in December, I don’t know…” Charlie blushed and looked at Nick, who took his hand.
Charlie looked at their joined fingers and smiled, looking at the beautiful brown eyes before turning his gaze at the three others. “I don’t know what would have happened. If anything had happened. I think I needed a few weeks’ more courage before we...” He stopped talking before he had to fill in those blanks with any of the stomach-swooping, quivering things that they had been able to do with the gift of time.
“That’s what we said!” Amy and Danny enthused.
“We basically saved the day.”
“Yes, we truly found love in a hopeless place.”
Nick lifted a finger on his free hand. “You also lied.”
James raised his hands and tilted his head. “Fibbed?”
“Yes, baby!” said Danny. “That is the kind of marketing copy we’re looking for! I love you. I love all of you. I love love. I love you, Charlie bear. I love you, Nicky nuts. And now everyone is happy and no one is mad and Amy and I are officially heroes that everyone thinks rescued the whole world. And sweet baby James, too, even though he didn’t believe in our mission at the beginning of it but his soft sweet heart wouldn’t let him not be a part of it. You’re welcome, Nick and Charlie!”
Nick scowled a little. “Well, I wouldn’t say–”
“Off we go!” Amy boomed, pulling at James and Danny. “Leaving as heroes, yay us!” The three of them scurried from the garden and shut the door firmly, leaving Nick and Charlie in a perplexed silence.
Charlie was still processing, the smile now hurting his face. Those three… he thought in wonder. Though really, it was those five. Darcy and Tara had been involved, too. Meddling queers and allies, the whole lot of them, Charlie thought. He was about to tell Nick about Boris’s many “professionalism” issues when Nick spoke.
“So, I guess your place is ready.”
The grin immediately faded from Charlie’s face, and a cold vise gripped the top of his stomach. “Yeah,” he said, stupidly not having thought of that in his amusement.
Nick’s voice was tight and low. “That means you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
If you don’t want to. Was that – what was it that Charlie heard in Nick’s voice? Did Nick maybe want Charlie to stay? “Sounds like it,” said Charlie, the tiny wings of hope fluttering in his stomach. “I have a flat in London to go back to now full-time.”
“Yeah.” Nick was looking at him, eyes fixed on Charlie and filled with anxiety.
Charlie’s chest was tight. He could leave. He could go to London. He could have his place back. He could. But he didn’t want to.
They spoke at nearly the same time.
“But what about the portrait people?”
“I’m worried about you being haunted if I leave.”
They both looked at each other and laughed. Charlie started to speak, but Nick broke in. “Char, I know you can go back to your place now. And I…” Nick inhaled. “Listen. I don’t want to…. Like… push too hard. I know I can be…” He trailed off, looking worried. “I know I can be a lot. I’ve heard that before. I don’t want to scare you off.”
Charlie could barely process that – Nick… he thought he was pushing Charlie too hard? Charlie was almost too baffled to take those words in. “But if you wanted to keep staying at Lavender Fields for a bit, I would love for you to keep staying,” Nick continued. “You could do the same thing – go back for your in-office days and just stay at your place instead of Elle and Tao’s – but you could still come to Lavender Fields until March like we thought yesterday. Or longer.” Nick looked up and met Charlie’s eyes. “I know there’s no reason for you to stay if your place is ready. But I do want you there. With me. If you want to be.”
Nick was just – god, he was a gorgeous person. He was so beautiful. Not just physically, no – no, Nick was the most glowingly gorgeous person that Charlie had met. Charlie melted a bit more when he thought about how improbable it was for Nick to be in the world, as incredible as he was. Then for them to be alive at the same time, in the same country, and to end up at the same inn… that was kismet enough. But to end up like this, with both of them wanting to be together. Well – that was magic.
Charlie had to blink some happy, grateful tears away. He touched Nick’s cheek and Nick closed his eyes, his mouth trembling. “There is a reason to be there,” Charlie said softly. “You.”
Nick gasped, the sound flooding Charlie’s heart with tenderness. When Nick opened his eyes again, they were soft and wet. Charlie pulled him in close, pulling his love closer. “Do you…” Nick began, and his voice broke. Charlie gripped him even tighter, threading his fingers through Nick’s hair. “So you would – you might stay for a bit longer?”
“I would,” whispered Charlie, never meaning anything more than he did right now. “I will. If you’ll have me.”
“You could stay forever,” whispered Nick, and Charlie drank the words in. Forever. That was what he wanted.
Charlie wanted forever with Nick.
Notes:
My garden is cucumbering HARD right now y'all, and I made pickle chips! These worked pretty well even without growing pickling cucumbers.
18 ounces (510 grams) cucumbers, sliced to a happy lil thickness (heh)
1 ¾ cups (450 ml) distilled white vinegar
¾ cup (200ml) water
1 tablespoon mustard seed
1 tablespoon dill seed
1 teaspoon pickling or kosher salt
1 teaspoon granulated sugar (add more if you like sweet pickles, but I like tart ones!)
4 large or 8 small dill sprigsSlice the cucumbers and add to a bowl of ice water, refrigerate for 2 hours.
Add the vinegar, water, mustard seed, dill seeds, salt and sugar to a pot. Bring to a boil, remove and allow to cool completely. Once cooled, add the fresh dill and cucumbers to sterilized jars and pour the vinegar over the cucumbers until covered. Seal and refrigerate for 1 day - then they are ready! They will keep refrigerated and well sealed for up to 4 weeks.
Next week is a Danny & James week - we are alternating until both stories end* on November 7!
*end is a strong word. These fuckers have a chokehold on me so I am sure I will be back.
Chapter 55: Charlie's POV: Talks
Summary:
Charlie and Nick arrive in Clevedon. They have non-emotional chats.
Notes:
Wavey, in the torn sourdough bread of life, you are the high-quality olive oil sprinkled with flaky sea salt. Thank you for betaing this biyatch!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Are you sure you're not bothered?”
“Yes.”
“But, like… really?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Okay, only if you’re truly, actually sure about that.
“… Are you?”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, Nick.” It had to be the eighth or ninth time that Nick had asked as they packed their stuff up in the guest room. It was adorable how sweet and thoughtful he was to make sure that Charlie wasn't upset. Honestly, Charlie couldn't be further from being angry or anything else negative. The entire weekend had been a dream, far surpassing anything Charlie had expected. It was his first trip with Nick, and had been completely eye-opening. Charlie had never imagined that Nick might be so warm and open in public. The weekend had left him even more in love than before, which was now flirting with a twelve out of ten on the Richter Scale of Hopeless Enamourment. There was something else that tugged at Charlie's chest, too, some warm glowing thing that he couldn't quite remember. He knew that there was something that was buoying him with joy, but he couldn't recall what it was.
“But,” Nick persisted once more. “Are you sure it’s not just you being kind?” He looked at Charlie, giving him a soft look that felt both appraising and tender. “You're not just trying to be low-key and unbothered because you're worried that it would upset my mates? What they did was kind of fucked.”
Charlie laughed again. “I mean, kind of, yeah,” he agreed. “But also… kind of not? I just keep thinking about how if that hadn't happened and I had gone back to London…” Charlie didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to think about what that had been like. He and Nick would have been separated by miles and by the uncertainty of their relationship to one another, as they'd still been weeks away from confessing how they felt when the “woodworms” attacked his flat.
Nick gave him another look that made Charlie's muscles go slack. “Yeah,” he said quietly, touching Charlie's hand. They both made eye contact with one another and smiled softly, then Nick's brow furrowed more. “You have to be a little upset, though, right? They lied to us. To you.”
“It, like – I don’t know,” said Charlie, trying to parse his words. He recognised that he could be angry about what had happened. That was one lens that he could choose to observe with – that Nick's friends were being deceitful and intentionally lying to the two of them. That was indeed one interpretation, though Charlie viewed that perspective as making a distinct choice about how to interpret what happened. Another way he could choose to look at it was that Nick's friends were so eager for them to be together that they had concocted a story to give both of them more time to stop being idiots. That fact alone was amazing, especially because of what it had led to. The other part of it that made it feel even nicer was how the amount of effort and commitment to the deception also indicated a deep fondness, and not just for Nick. A fondness for both of them.
“It made me feel like…part of the group?” Charlie said finally. “Like I wasn’t just an outsider friend, but almost like one of you lot?”
Nick rolled his eyes, though there was a fond smile on his face. “‘Almost’,” he repeated with a scoff, giving Charlie a warm-stern look that did things to the mid-south latitude of his body. “You are a part of this group.”
“Oh,” Charlie said, blushing. Here was yet another example of Nick being so giving and open. The men that Charlie had dated before Nick had always seemed to keep neat, clearly defined categories of their friends and Charlie's friends. This was the first time that Charlie could remember where a partner so easily gave an our.
He and Nick got their things together and headed downstairs. Nick still hadn’t told him where the two of them were going for their days off (Charlie had just sent the email that he was very ill and unable to come to work Monday). As much fun as they had just had with everyone, Charlie was eager to have time just for them. The past few days had only bolstered how strongly Charlie felt about Nick, and he could not wait to get time for just the two of them, hidden away in some private enclave with no one making them feel observed or spectated.
It took them a few minutes to leave, tangled in hugs with everyone. Amy had genuinely apologised to Charlie as she left, touching him on the shoulders. “I really am sorry for lying,” she said, her eyes flickering down to the ground and then back at Charlie.
“I’m not!” an Aussie voice called from the kitchen.
Charlie laughed while Amy closed her eyes and shook her head. “Well, regardless of how he feels, the last thing I’d want to do is keep something from you.” She looked at Charlie, her green-blue eyes a little worried. “I guess I just didn’t even think of it like that until Nick called us out, rule-following little fuck that he is. I just…” She squeezed his shoulders. “You two deserve each other. And I know it was challenging for both of you to realise that. You just needed some time.”
“We did,” Charlie assured her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We did need more time.”
“And now you have it!” Amy chirped brightly as she let him go, seemingly absolved of all of her guilt with shocking rapidity. “Danny and I really are heroes.”
Charlie laughed loudly. “No, the only real hero here is Evan, I think. He died for this to happen.”
Amy nodded solemnly, raising two fingers to her lips and then extending them to the sky. “He lets flats with the angels now.”
Charlie snorted and they hugged once more before Charlie and Nick said their goodbyes to everyone else. Danny was the last one to let them leave, releasing a truly astonishing stream of consciousness before their departure.
“You really should stay another night,” he muttered with a shake of his head, still reaching for Nick even after he had laughingly pulled out of a long hug. “It was so fun! Though, then again,” Danny said, brow drawing together. “If you do, you can’t root like filthy little wombats. Actually, you could!” He suddenly brightened, looking at Charlie with delight. “This is the exact reason why we soundproofed the guest room – shaggliness is next to godliness, as they say – so you should stay. But then again, no, you might be self-conscious about the sounds you make and the two of you really need to get in there real good, you know? Oh, get out of here, you beautiful cunts!” At this, Danny clasped his hands at his heart as he shook his head fondly at Charlie and Nick, already retreating at a fast clip. “I love you! Go have sex and make gay babies like you need to repopulate the planet!”
Nick and Charlie were still giggling about it as they got into the car, Nick settling into the driver’s seat. He reached over and smiled at Charlie, melting Charlie’s spine when he tucked a stray curl behind his ear with a gentle finger. “Ready to go, Char?”
Charlie closed his eyes in unimaginable bliss. “Yes. I’m ready.” He tried to open his eyes again but they felt impossibly heavy. He attempted to open them once more to see if Nick wanted music, but there was only the softness of fabric being pushed gently against him. Go to sleep, Char, use my jumper as a pillow was the last gentle thing that he heard before drifting off, the words settling around him like soft, light snow.
He slept deeply, his dreams a mixture of quick scenes that were filled with bright, vivid colours. Charlie began to stir awake after an indeterminate amount of time, though his eyelids still felt impossible to open. The image of his last dream was floating hazily through his mind, a kaleidoscope of sparkling, richly hued light. Charlie smiled to himself – that pleasant, fuzzy feeling was back. With his eyes closed, the picture in his brain reminded him of a rainbow disco ball, scattering light on everything around it.
Disco ball.
Had there been a disco ball last night?
Well, Danny lived in that house, so it made sense there would have been a disco ball. Still half-asleep, Charlie drowsily recalled some of the other memories, the ones that seemed packaged together with the light from the disco ball. Dancing. There had been dancing, right? Yes. He and Nick had danced together. They had danced together on their very first weekend away, even with other people around. Charlie smiled again at that, revelling in the magic of the weekend. Nick and Charlie had danced. They had kissed, too, on the same dance floor. They had talked, too, some loud, half-shouted conversation that had been difficult to hear over the music but had filled Charlie with a sparkling sense of wonder. They had talked–
Boyfriends.
Boyfriends.
Oh god, they had talked about being boyfriends and Nick had been the one that brought it up. Charlie’s lips turned up irresistibly and he snuggled his head a little closer to the crook of his arm, pressing his face into the fabric of Nick’s jumper to hide his smile. Boyfriends. Was that real? Was that just part of the dream he had? He didn’t think so, but it could have been. Charlie beamed even wider as he thought about if it was real, how fucking incredible that would be, in the quite literal sense of the word. Charlie would be incredulous to find himself boyfriends with the actual fittest man on the planet. If that had really happened, they were boyfriends – and boyfriends who were going to live in the same place for the foreseeable future. They’d be living with one another by choice and not happenstance, by design and not serendipity. Charlie had known that he’d wanted to be where Nick was for weeks now, but to know Nick wanted the same? That was magical.
Charlie’s eyes fully opened when the car stopped, and he looked over to see Nick’s gorgeous brown eyes on him, the human embodiment of a golden retriever. Nick smiled. “Hey there, sleeping beauty.”
Charlie grinned to himself. “Hi, dog from Up.”
“What?” Nick asked curiously.
Charlie stretched slowly. “You made a film joke. I made one, too. Don’t worry about it.”
“Whatever you say, Prince Char-ming,” Nick chuckled, and Charlie rolled his eyes affectionately.
“Is this where we’re going on our trip?” asked Charlie, glancing around at the petrol station.
Nick laughed. “Yep,” he said, nodding. “The owners of the station promised that the bathroom would be nice and warm for us, and they’ll even let us have a small coffee to split between us in the morning.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” Charlie said with a laughing yawn.
They eventually got on the road, but only after Nick stole Charlie’s move by swatting away his credit card when Charlie attempted to pay. Though of course, Nick was so soft-hearted that he immediately scurried after Charlie’s card, picking it up and cleaning it off with an antibacterial wipe before giving it back. They drove on, talking about nothing in particular but enjoying every minute of it.
“Okay, so here’s one of Danny’s favourite questions,” Nick was saying. “Would you rather have mayonnaise hands or glass pants?”
Charlie looked at him askance. “What?”
Nick giggled. “It's one of his top conversation starters. Would you rather have hands that always have mayonnaise leaking out, or would you rather always have to wear pants that are made of glass for the rest of your life?”
Charlie laughed aloud. “Wait… how much mayonnaise are we talking about?”
“That’s the deciding factor for you?! Come on Charlie, even a smearing of mayonnaise oozing out of your hands is too much.”
“Oh my god, don’t say oozing.”
“You’re the one with mayonnaise hands; you’d better get used to it.”
They were still laughing about that as they drove past another road sign and Charlie tried to make inferences about where they were going. “Are we going to the Hinkley Point power stations?” Charlie said with a giggle. “I’ve always wanted to experience a few days marvelling at the wonder of hydro-powered nuclear electricity.”
Nick snorted out a laugh. “Oh, I wish I had thought of that. No, I bet a place like that would charge too much for us to go.” He opened his mouth in delight and looked briefly between the road and Charlie with a grin that Tex described during the weekend as “shit-eating.”
Charlie became more curious as Nick finally pulled off the motorway, starting to see signs for Clevedon. “Okay, now you have to tell me!”
Nick smiled and took Charlie's hand. “We're taking a quick winter time getaway to the beach,” he explained. “I went to this town when I was a kid, and I've wanted to go back for ages. Regan and some of her friends actually came here a year or two ago, and she recommended an area of town for us to stay. I found a cottage that looked nice online, I hope it's alright.”
Charlie smiled at how adorably nervous Nick appeared, taking his hand. “It's going to be amazing.”
It really was amazing. The cottage was utterly adorable and just a few blocks away from the pier. The two of them walked in, Nick shouldering Charlie's bag as he always did. When they entered, the first thing that Charlie saw was a wood burning stove in the corner, with two couches in an L shape in front of it. The kitchen and living room were joined in one, large, cosy space. The ceilings were high, and Charlie noted with some amusement that they were braced with thick columns of wood.
“Beams!” Nick and Charlie both said at once, then dissolved into laughter. God, it was so easy with Nick. Everything was so fucking easy with Nick, especially now that they’d finally spoken about the living situation. That was set and Charlie felt more secure than he had in months. Years, maybe.
Charlie glanced over at Nick, affecting a serious expression. “It’s too bad they’re infested with woodworms.”
“Yes, such a shame when that happens,” sighed Nick, then immediately smiled and pulled Charlie into a close hug. “I hate when they force me to spend more time with the most incredible man I know, even if they are the worms of lies.”
Charlie snorted against Nick’s broad chest, blushing so brightly that he could feel the tips of his ears burning. Then Nick gripped him tightly and lifted him off the ground, Charlie exclaiming as he was carried backwards to the bedroom through an oak door. He laughed when Nick dropped him on the bed, then smiled when Nick cuddled up to him and rested his head on Charlie’s torso. They lay there for a bit, taking in the quiet respite. Charlie let one of his hands drift into Nick’s hair, gently playing with it. “We were on the couch and in the car all day. Do you want to go for a quick walk before it gets too dark?”
“I mean, yes,” Nick said, his mouth buried in Charlie’s jumper. “That sounds nice.”
Nick’s response was directly at odds with his actions, which were just to tuck his body more firmly against Charlie’s. Charlie grinned and continued carding his fingers through Nick’s hair. “It’s hard to walk the pier when you’re glued to me like a koala, though.” Nick didn’t respond except to make a little sound and rest his chest a little higher on Charlie’s chest. Charlie laughed softly. “What are you doing, then?”
Nick’s voice was muffled, floaty perfection. “Recharging.”
Charlie laughed again, squeezing Nick closely before trying to sit up. Nick reacted by wrapping his tree-trunk-like thighs around Charlie.
It was… oh.
Ohhhhhhh, Nick Nelson’s meaty, hulking, muscular thighs were trapping him and Charlie’s body temperature immediately skyrocketed. He forced out a fake sigh. “Okay, fine. I guess we can stay here for a little bit.” Charlie let one of his hands touch Nick’s massive thigh, biting his lip and thinking of yet another thing that undid him – Nick’s throaty accent from the rugby stadium. Did you–” Charlie faltered, feeling impossibly shy for speaking to a person with whom he’d cuddled naked. “Were you speaking French at the match with Wilco?”
Nick’s eyes were still closed, his legs still caging Charlie. “Oui, je parle français.”
This was fine. Yes, this was fine. Charlie was fine. He was definitely not at risk of spontaneous, dick-based combustion. He probed a bit more, thrillingly terrified of the answer. “So, you speak French. Like – fluently?”
“Sort of,” Nick replied, still holding him tight. “My dad’s French, and he basically only spoke to me in French. He lives in Paris now, and even though we don’t talk any more, I can still…”
Charlie tried. He really tried to stay cool and calm, but a sound of pure adolescent horniness squeaked out of his throat. Nick turned to look at him, a look of dawning delight spreading across his face.
“Wait…” grinned Nick. “Do you like the fact that I speak French?”
Charlie turned his face away from Nick’s, blushing madly. He shrugged. “Oh, it’s fine. It’s cool.”
“Charlie!” Nick let out a gleeful laugh and sat up, poking at Charlie’s dimples. He drew close, lips to Charlie’s ear, and lowered his voice. “Mon amour.”
ALERT. ALERT. ALERT. COMBUSTION IMMINENT.
Charlie tried to force down the squirmy delight, pushing his face into the pillows. “Oh my god, you’re so cringe!”
Charlie could feel Nick’s weight on top of him, quaking a little as Nick giggled. He leaned close again, purring into Charlie’s ear. “You don’t look like you’re cringing. You look like you’re blushing.”
“I am not!”
“Oh yeah? Are you sure… mon chéri?”
Charlie smacked Nick with a pillow, though he couldn’t stop giggling. “Leave me alone, you dick!”
They laughed and wrestled around on the bed until they were both breathless, Nick dropping onto his back and pulling Charlie into his chest. “Okay, fine, fine, fine. You win. Let’s go for a walk and not just make out for hours in front of the fire.”
Charlie turned in Nick’s arms, feeling scandalised by the realisation that there was another option. “No, wait, now I want to do that instead!”
Nick made an apologetic cluck. “Too late. This mouth is closed for business.”
He opened his legs and let Charlie free, who reluctantly got up and drifted over to the window. God, Nick’s legs. Charlie wanted Nick to squeeze him like a watermelon until he exploded. Though – could watermelons even grow in the UK? What else could work? “Nick?” Charlie murmured distractedly, still looking out the window. “Do you ever think about growing pumpkins at Lavender Fields?”
Nick cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing,” he stammered, coming back into his body. “Come on, let’s get ready.”
Nick shook his head in amusement and they got ready, Nick giggling at the number of layers that Charlie put on. They walked down to the pier in the chilly air, though a bright torch of fire warmed Charlie’s chest. They were here together, on this trip together. And they were – they were boyfriends. At least, Charlie thought they were, based on last night. Though, he thought, frowning a little to himself, maybe that was just drunken talk – golden-edged, beautiful words that evaporated once the sun rose. The frown disappeared and turned into an incredulous smile when Nick took Charlie’s hand. There was no one around and so Charlie wasn’t as shocked, but still… this was more than Charlie had ever hoped for. Nick, taking his hand in public? It was – god.
It was amazing.
They chatted as they walked, pointing out houses to one another and joking with each other. Nick noticed a tree growing, twisted and gnarled out of the black cliffs. He pointed to it until Charlie saw, murmuring in surprise at how something could be so tenacious to grow despite its difficult situation. They made their way to the pier, Charlie keeping a sharp eye for other people and readying himself to drop Nick’s hand whenever they did. There were some people in town, but they seemed far enough away to plausibly think that the two men were just walking, shoulders close to one another. He assuaged that anticipatory anxiety with conversation, looking around as they walked down the pier.
“One Direction filmed a video here,” he told Nick. “Remember the song ‘You and I’?”
Nick turned to Charlie with a delighted expression. “Are you a fan? Mr. ‘I only listen to cool indie things that Nick had never heard of’?”
Charlie went to protest, but his Spotify wrapped didn’t lie. “A light fan.”
“A light fan. A fan on ‘low’,” scoffed Nick. “Sure you are.”
“Shut up, former S. Club-President 7!”
“I don’t deny who I am, Charlie, and you shouldn’t either.”
Charlie snorted as they walked to the far end of the pier, the wind slightly buffered by the building behind them. He went over to the rail to watch the spray of the grey-green waves against the wooden posts, the sea thrashing angry and endless. Charlie smiled when Nick pressed behind him and wrapped his body around Charlie’s, holding him close. Then a shock of cold fear trickled down his skeleton, making his stomach leaden.
Charlie turned his head towards Nick, his voice in a tone he’d learned to keep low in situations like this. “Nick. There were people around in town. Someone might see us.”
“I know,” Nick replied back, his voice casual and easy, nothing like the sea below them. There was a pause when all Charlie could hear was the water and wind around them. “Is that okay?” Nick asked. “Are you okay with that?” Before Charlie could reply, Nick’s arms tightened around him. “I… at the match…” He trailed off. “At the stadium. I wanted to hold hands with you. I wanted to have my arm around you. But I also…” Charlie’s heart was thumping in triple time, the spike of amazed softness at Nick saying he wanted to hold hands tempered by the terrifying qualifier he knew was coming. “I was worried about if stuff got out,” Nick said quietly against his neck, arms wrapping Charlie tight. “I was worried about people harassing you, like looking up information about you or whatever.”
Charlie turned to look at Nick, feeling utterly confused. This was all about Nick’s privacy. This was about Nick’s needs. “I worry about people harassing you, Nick. If we were like…” Charlie felt a squeeze of shame, thinking about how he’d gotten too flirtatious before Amy caught them. “If we had gotten caught in the physio room or if we had held hands, there would have been articles, I’m sure. I would hate if stuff was written about you, about who you are. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”
Nick was already shaking his head and pulling Charlie in by the hips for a chest-to-chest embrace, the gulls crying above them. “I really don’t care what they think, Char. And I mean that. I spent so many years working on not caring about what the articles or commentators or whoever said. It took me a long time to get here. I know the sexuality stuff is newer, but it’s the same thing in some ways.” Charlie was searching Nick’s honest, kind brown eyes for any sign that this was for Charlie’s benefit, but he found nothing hidden in them. “I don’t care, Char,” Nick said, voice husky. “I like who I am. I like my life. I like you.”
Charlie melted and softened immediately, but then felt the bony, cold fingers of anxiety hooking into his brain, burrowing and worrying.
He says he doesn’t care. He says that before anything actually bad happens. When it does, what happens then?
“But you might care, Nick,” Charlie persisted, though the words made his soul ache. “Depending on what they say, you might.”
Nick nodded, but his face didn’t change. “I know it’ll be hard. The articles, though, and the media stuff - I don’t know. For me, that stuff is easier. It would be hard if the people in my life didn’t accept me and love me. It would be harder if I was worried about my friends turning their backs, or stuff with my family.” Nick laughed once, a low and humourless sound. “It’s easier that I don’t consider my dad my family any more. I know I’m incredibly lucky with that – I mean, you know all my friends. None of them will care, and they’ll all support me, support us.”
Will.
It will be hard.
“If we come out, Charlie...”
“If I choose to take you on a trip...”
“If we ever go to France, you’d better not…”
There was no if in what Nick said. No dangling of desperate hope, only the certainty and warmth of a will. With so much more to lose than Ben ever had, Nick was planning on a will and not an if.
“It will be hard?” Charlie repeated, not daring to believe it yet. “You… you say that like you… you think that will happen? That we might… like, be in public together?”
Nick looked at Charlie as though he was the most beautiful thing in the world and Charlie had to fight down an unexpected sob. “Yes,” Nick whispered. “I do. I want that so badly.” Charlie stared back into the perfect, kind face, his heart so full that it was nearly bursting. Then Nick’s face changed and Charlie’s heart twinged. “Also - I wanted to talk to you. “The boyfriends thing…”
“It’s okay,” said Charlie, the fire inside doused as if one of the waves below had smashed through his chest. Of course. It was drunk, happy talk. Charlie couldn’t hold Nick to the silly babbling of a drunken night. “I get it.”
Nick’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”
“We were drunk,” Charlie assured him, squeezing Nick’s arms and trying to ignore the way his chest felt as though everything had been scooped out. “And I promise, I’m not, like, upset. We were both drunk, and we all say things like that without meaning them, and truly, Nick, it’s fine. I won’t hold you to that, and–”
“Wait,” Nick said with a strange expression. “Do you think…?” He tilted his head at Charlie then his eyes widened as though he’d realised something. “Do you think I’m trying to take it back? Like I didn’t mean it?”
Charlie was torn between nodding and proactively reassuring Nick that it was okay and bursting into tears, but his love and affection for Nick won. He tried to soften his eyes to show Nick that it really was okay, and that there was no rush. Charlie would wait. He’d wait as long as Nick wanted.
“God, no, Charlie!” Nick exclaimed, stepping slightly back and taking Charlie’s hands. “It’s not that at all! I’m just… I’m so sorry I had that conversation drunk! We should have – I should have brought up all of this before the match. I should have asked how you felt about being seen together – not how you were worried I was feeling, but how you felt. I wanted… I wanted to show you how proud I was to be with you. How proud I am. But then once we were there, I realised there could be impacts on your life, like people bothering you online or stuff like that. I really should have spoken to you about all of this before.”
Charlie stood stock-still as Nick’s words filled him up, each incredible utterance accumulating in his body like a thousand points of light. Charlie felt as though he had caught a snowflake, something beautiful and lace-edged that might melt away at any moment.
Nick pulled them closer. “Charlie, I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be seen with you. I hated it when we used the word ‘friends’ in front of other people. You are my friend, yes,” he grinned, taking Charlie’s still-shocked face in his hands. “But I don’t want to be just that. I want to be your boyfriend.”
There was a quiveringly long moment where all of the joy in the world rushed from where it lived and swirled around Charlie, nearly lifting him from his feet in astonished rapture. “Oh my god, Nick,” Charlie breathed, still not daring to believe it. “I want to be your boyfriend. So badly.”
“You do?” The look on Nick’s face was endearingly hopeful, like he thought there was any chance Charlie hadn’t wished for the same since they had met.
“Of course, you giant rugby idiot!” Charlie choked out in a sound between a laugh and a sob. He pulled Nick in by the coat and kissed him, Nick uttering a similarly strangled noise. They held each other tightly and Charlie looked into the face that he wanted to see for the rest of his life. “So… we’re boyfriends?”
A slow, sparkling smile spread across Nick’s features. “Yeah,” he said throatily. “We’re boyfriends.” He stepped back, raising his arms to the sky and throwing his head back and shouting into the wind. “He’s my boyfriend! I’m his boyfriend! We’re boyfriends!”
Charlie laughed wildly and they wrapped each other in their arms, swaying as the waves murmured beneath them, everything feeling calmer now. He let himself sit in Nick’s embrace for a moment, taking this in. As they held one another, Charlie replayed the last few minutes.
The way Nick brought up being boyfriends because he wanted to cement it, not dismantle it.
The way Nick was certain of their future and what it looked like to be with one another, committing to the how and not the if.
The way Nick’s whole body lit up in a pulsating beam of energy, shouting to the seagulls and the world that Charlie was his boyfriend.
Charlie nearly gasped aloud and was shocked to discover that there was indeed a pier that was still below his feet. The world had changed, its atomic structure rearranging. Nick – he felt the way about Charlie that Charlie felt about Nick. It wasn’t just – this wasn’t a favour that Nick was doing to Charlie. This wasn’t pity. There weren’t even shades of that anywhere in Nick. This wasn’t one partner lording their status over the other. This was authentic partnership: two people who cared about each other and were astonished to discover that they weren’t the only one who felt that way.
Charlie closed his eyes when Nick kissed him on the forehead, tears prickling. He opened his eyes again and looked at Nick, whose expression was wondering. “I…” Charlie started, but he faltered, trying to summarise just how perfect and life-altering this moment was. “I never thought this would happen to me.”
Nick pulled him in, kissing Charlie deeply before tilting their foreheads together and speaking quietly. “Me neither.”
Charlie wasn’t sure if they walked or floated back to the rental property. He wasn’t sure of anything except for how in love with Nick Nelson he was. Nick Nelson, his boyfriend. His boyfriend. Charlie remained in a dreamy state as they warmed up inside the property, snuggling together in front of the fire with tea as they called for takeaway. Even venturing out into the icy air to pick up their food couldn’t touch the happy, glowing starburst in his body. It was as if Charlie had been looking at life through a filter that had been suddenly lifted, the world coming into focus for the first time and the colours brighter than he had ever seen. Nick cared about Charlie the way Charlie cared about him. The same feelings of desire, awe, and hope that bubbled through Charlie’s veins were in Nick’s, too.
Charlie kept smiling as they talked and kissed in front of the fire, his lips curling up even as their mouths met. It didn’t take long, though, for their gentle hands and softness let way to fingers that fisted in each other’s shirts, hands that gripped each other’s bodies, mouths that couldn’t get enough of one another. Nick had pulled Charlie on top of him. Charlie was grinding, frotting against Nick with his lower half while lathing his mouth over Nick’s perfect neck at the same time.
Charlie pulled back with some effort, though it was a small sacrifice to make for what he hoped was about to happen. “Bedroom?” he panted, still catching his breath.
Nick nodded in an adorably keen way and Charlie grinned, extending a hand and pulling Nick towards the bedroom. They stumbled in and Charlie pushed Nick so that he landed on the bed, his gorgeous body lounging and looking incredibly sexy. Charlie let out a moan at the smirking, lust-inducing mass of man in front of him. He joined Nick on the bed, running his hands up and down the strong arms and then down Nick’s sides, making Nick shiver and jump. Charlie grinned, then started towards the most sacred site in the Northern Hemisphere, drawing his hands slowly and sensually down Nick’s body to pull down his joggers. Charlie had hooked his fingers under the waistband when Nick gently took his hands, pulling them away and rolling his body to face Charlie.
Charlie looked at Nick in surprise, his mouth falling open in worry. Had he misread this? Was he trying to go too fast?
Nick reached towards Charlie’s face, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a soft hand. “Charlie,” he said, looking – what? Anxious? Apprehensive? Charlie wasn’t quite sure. “Do you ever… do you ever think about us having, like – sex sex?”
Charlie tried to keep his eyebrows from jumping off his face. Uh, yeah. Why yes, yes he had. Yes, he did. “With you?” Charlie asked sassily, tilting his head. “No, not a lot. Just, like, forty to eight hundred times a day.”
Nick laughed, a surprised and loud sound. “Charlie!”
Charlie had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. This silly, perfect man who had been the object of his nightly, lustful fantasies for a quarter of a year. “That is not my fault,” he informed Nick. “I happen to know the fittest, most sexy man in the world. And he happens to be my… boyfriend.” Despite his bravado, Charlie felt shy saying that word out loud. It was so perfect that to say it aloud nearly felt like Charlie was tempting fate.
Nick chuckled and brought his lips to Charlie’s ear. “Yes, your boyfriend. Though you’re mistaken, I think you’re describing my boyfriend.”
Another smile tugged against Charlie’s mouth, unstoppable. “So, short answer – yes, Nick. I think about that a lot.”
Nick grinned. “I do, too.” Charlie barely had time to take in that life-, world-, and penis-altering news when Nick took a breath. “I’ve… I want to do that, Charlie. With you. I don’t want to do anything until you’re ready, of course–”
God, Nick was both so cute and so ninety days behind Charlie. At least he’d caught up. Charlie fixed him with a grin. “Nick,” he said. “I am very, very ready to do that with you.”
Nick looked like he’d received an electric shock, stunned and dazed. “Oh,” he managed, nodding like a bobblehead. “Well. Yeah. That’s - that’s good. I do… too. I’m ready for that, too.” Charlie giggled and Nick grinned in abashed amusement before he cleared his throat. “So, I was wondering…” Nick said, trailing off. “What if, like, the first time we did, I bottomed and you topped? Since you know what you’re doing and I’m newer to all of this?”
Charlie froze, so taken aback that he didn’t have words for a moment. The world shifted again, though this time it felt as though it was less settled than a moment before. Charlie had – well, he’d assumed that it was going to be Nick as the…
Since you know what you’re doing.
Did Charlie know what he was doing? In this moment, he was utterly staggered. He'd assumed that Nick was a masc top and that Charlie would be the eager bottom and that was that. It was clear and assumed and Charlie was ready for that. He was used to that. He knew what he was doing with that. He took a long, shuddering breath. Charlie had dated men before, yes. He had. But he’d never dated a true partner. He’d never dated Nick.
“I…” Charlie struggled for words again, closing his eyes. Be open, Charlie. Be honest. Be vulnerable – you are safe with Nick. “Nick, I have no idea what I’m doing with you.”
Nick looked baffled and worried, already reaching for Charlie. “You… what?”
Charlie looked at the tender expression that gazed back at him, trying to summarise a lifetime of being less-than into something that didn’t feel too overwhelming. “I…” He began, taking another long breath. Break it into pieces. Simple facts, Charlie. “So much of this is new to me, Nick. Like – I’ve never topped before, so that alone is new.” Okay, yes, good. You can do this, Charlie. “But more than that… My experience with you is just so different. It’s so different to Ben.”
Nick’s jaw tightened slightly and Charlie felt and saw the slow rise and fall of his chest. He nodded, then took another breath. When he spoke, though, his voice was gentle. Welcoming. Tender. Loving. “I don’t… I just – I want to understand more, Charlie,” he said. Nick looked over at him, not averting his eyes. Looking at Charlie like he saw a full person. A deserving person.
It was like Nick saw a person.
Nick took a soft breath and reached out to touch Charlie’s cheek. “One thing… One thing I’ve noticed is that when we’re together, like when we’re doing stuff, I want to take my time with you. Like, I want to properly pay attention to you for hours.” Charlie felt as though a bucket of water had been thrown on him as his shock was so great. Nick said – wait, did Charlie do that? Well, yes, he supposed with Ben he’d learned how to read his body and make sure that he wasn’t making Ben work too hard or for too long. Did–
Nick’s words broke into his thoughts. “I could do that for hours, Char,” Nick was saying, his hands stroking over Charlie’s skin. “I would love to do that for hours, just paying attention to you and touching you. But I feel like… is – is that new? Is that what you mean?”
Charlie looked at Nick for a long, hovering moment before it all snapped, a rush of emotions welling up in his chest and then bursting out, tears springing to his eyes. “It was really different, Nick,” he managed to get out before his voice broke. Nick made a soft, pained sound before he pulled Charlie close, tucking their bodies close.
After a few moments, Charlie gathered himself. “It was about him,” he said, not even wanting to use the name. “It was always about him, in a lot of different ways. It was always about him being the least gay,” said Charlie, with a quick glance under his lashes at Nick. Nick, this burly, strong, amazing man who just wanted to be with Charlie, with no right or wrong way for them to show physical affection. Nick didn’t have to be a top to still cling onto what he had been taught about masculinity. Nick didn’t need that at all.
“It was about his pleasure,” Charlie went on. “Mine seemed… like, transactional? Like it was an obligation to him. He’d finish – first, always – and then he’d want me to take care of myself, if it was sex. And, like, that’s normal, or can be, right? Not everyone can finish from bottoming, so, like that’s normal. But it was always me doing that, while he showered or left or went to sleep, or like, I guess sometimes watched. And when it wasn’t sex, it was him, and then me quickly. Or every so often it was me quick so we could get to him if he was in a nicer mood that day.”
Charlie could feel how tense Nick’s body was, and he took Nick’s hand in his own, pulling it to his heart as though the contact could heal both of them. In a way, Charlie supposed, it could. It had. “So I wanted to make it as easy as possible for him,” Charlie continued, the pieces of the world settling into place yet again, this time with more surety and understanding than they had a moment ago. “He would always be annoyed if it took too long. It was easier if I was quick, because then he wouldn’t be in a mood with me after,” he said with a bitter laugh before he softened again, looking at Nick and understanding something new about himself yet again. “So, yeah. Yeah, that’s a part of it.” Charlie looked at Nick, his boyfriend. His partner. His equal. You’re… this is all new for me, Nick. You’re not new to this. Or you’re not new alone. I feel like I’m… like this is entirely new.”
Nick nodded tightly, then his face gentled and he reached over to touch Charlie’s. “I’m not him–”
Charlie’s stomach flipped in horror. Nothing could be further from the truth. “I know that,” he burst out, shaking his head and reaching for Nick. “You’re not–”
“No, I know that, Charlie, I know,” Nick said immediately, his large hands taking Charlie’s face with a tender touch. “I know you’re not saying that about me. But, like, Char – what he gave you… that wasn’t normal, Charlie. That wasn’t how kind people treat the people they’re with. That wasn’t what you deserved.” Nick’s eyes flickered over Charlie’s face, soft and expressive. “I want to give you what you deserve.”
Charlie swallowed hard, revelling in the magic of this perfect man. The perfect man who was with him. The perfect man who genuinely thought he was lucky to be with Charlie, as baffling as that still felt.
“It’s a two-way street,” Charlie finally got out. “You deserve everything, too. You deserve everything, Nick.” Charlie took a long breath. Nick felt lucky to be with Charlie, but he was – Charlie was heavier than Nick. Nick was all lightness and fresh air and Charlie pulled them down with every conversation about feeling, dwelling on some darkness from the past. He closed his eyes and took another inhale. I can be open. I can be vulnerable. I am safe. “Sometimes I feel… sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you. Or–” Charlie shook his head, warding off Nick’s immediate objection. “Sometimes I feel like you deserve someone who doesn’t have all of this baggage.”
Now Nick was shaking his head, his voice ragged. “I can’t tell you how much I don’t feel like that. Charlie, I have so much shit, too! I’m terrified of being too much.” Nick’s voice was nearly a plea, as if he was desperate for Charlie to believe him. “I’m terrified of overwhelming you or scaring you off or…” Nick stopped talking, tears spilling down from his eyes, and Charlie’s heart broke a little. Nick. Sweet, perfect Nick could never be too much. Charlie wondered for a brief moment if Nick had a Ben in his past. Had someone told his perfect boy that he was too much? “Can we…” Nick was saying now, gripping Charlie’s arms like enough contact could make Charlie believe him. “Can we tell each other if we feel like this? Like we don’t deserve each other? Or if either of us ever feel anxious like this?”
Charlie felt his muscles loosen and release, his body relaxing marginally, though the fear was still there, an ancient and rooted thing. “I just don’t want to, like – annoy you, or burden you,” he admitted, the air thick with worry. “I don’t want you to think I’m some fragile, broken mess. Like you need to fix me.”
“You’re not,” Nick said immediately, shaking his head. “And I wouldn’t.” Nick took a long, shaking inhale, then looked at him, his eyes just visible in the dim light of the bedroom. “Char, remember that tree earlier?” Charlie nodded, his heart thumping like a hummingbird’s, Nick’s words the only thing keeping him grounded on the earth. “The one growing from the rock. It wasn’t – like, maybe it didn’t look like every other tree. It was different. But Charlie, it still grew. You wouldn’t see a tree like that and blame the tree for not looking a specific way, like the way you think a tree is supposed to look. You look at it and you’re amazed that it grew so strong even though it had to do that in shit circumstances.”
Charlie blinked, a tear leaving a warm streak on his cheek that cooled quickly. Nick brushed it away with this thumb, making Charlie close his eyes again. This man.
“You’d think all of that,” Nick went on. “And you’d think that tree was one of the strongest and mostly incredible things you’ve ever seen. You wouldn’t blame it for where it had to grow. You’d just be so amazed that it still did. You’re that tree, Charlie,” Nick choked out, the emotion in his voice surprising Charlie with the depth of its feeling. “You are so strong.”
Strong. Nick saw Charlie as strong.
Charlie was strong.
Nick didn’t just look at Charlie the way that Charlie did, with affection and appreciation, but he also looked at Charlie like he could see what was underneath. It was almost as if Nick had taken a flashlight into a cave, illuminating things that Charlie hadn’t been able to see himself until he was shown the brightness. He closed his eyes, taking in the words, the man, the magical moment he was in.
“That…” Charlie began. “Thank you. Nick, you are so strong,” Charlie murmured, looking at his boyfriend. Nick had to know that, right? Even if he did, it was worth telling him. Nick deserved to know how brave he was. “I hope you know that. You’re… you’ve figured out so much in the last few months. You didn’t run from any of it. You talked to people about it. You talked to me about it. You’ve learned and done so much, and then on the pier, and at the match, and with your friends…” He touched Nick’s face, hand shaking with the depth of his feelings. “And then, like the sex stuff.” Charlie shook his head in wry amusement. Maybe Nick was new to some acts, but what was familiar and more sensual than anything else was how his tender attention made Charlie feel. “You don’t not know what you’re doing. Or at least, not alone,” he finished with a strangled half-laugh.
Nick sniffled and laughed softly, too. “That’s right. This is new to both of us, because we’re new together. I guess that’s probably true for any two people together, right? It’s always new because it’s always two new people together, figuring out what it looks like for them.”
Two people together. Two partners together. Two equals together. Charlie nodded and they clutched at one another, both of their chests slowly settling from the emotional tumult. They held each other for a long time before Charlie brushed the hair away from Nick’s face. “Thank you, Nick.”
Nick closed his eyes, looking blissful. “For what?”
“Everything,” Charlie said, his whole world with Nick bundled inside the single word.
Nick smiled gently and kissed Charlie, then kept his face close. “Thank you. For being the brilliant tree you are.” Charlie closed his eyes and smiled back, their hearts beating against each other’s. There was a beat of silence, then Nick rubbed Charlie’s back. “Tonight, Char. Tonight… can I treat you how you deserve to be treated? Can I take my time? Touch you?”
Charlie looked at him, needing to know that this wasn’t pity. He needed to know that this wasn’t Nick trying to make up for what Ben wasn’t. “Nick…” Charlie said, searching his face.
But all Charlie found was Nick. Genuine, honest, wanting Nick who was looking at him with desire. “Can I, Charlie?” His voice was a growl, and Charlie almost mewled at how sexy it sounded.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Nick let out a moan, a low and deep sound. “Thank you,” he said, like Charlie was giving him a gift.
Nick slowly undressed both of them, and the way he was doing it was so – Charlie almost didn’t know how to describe it. It was like Nick was slowly undoing him, though not in a dismantling sense. Instead, it was as if Nick was carefully lifting away layers that hid Charlie, marvelling with each expanse of skin that was revealed. He took his time and spread his fingers wide, like he couldn't make enough contact with Charlie’s body. Charlie moaned with assent every time Nick seemed to seek it, his fingers curling in and out with desire.
Nick looked at Charlie’s nude body and then his face for a long, trembling moment before propping a pillow under Charlie’s head. Then he slowly – oh, god, agonisingly and beautifully slowly – moved to Charlie’s feet, running his hands down Charlie’s body as he did so. Once there, Nick slowly worked his way back up, this time leading the way with his mouth, his hands following. It wasn’t just focusing on the traditional areas, either – Nick was taking his time. He ran his hands up and down Charlie’s calves, his ankles, the sensitive skin of his elbows, the nape of his neck. It felt like a year before Nick brought his whole body on top of Charlie’s, semi-hovering over him on his knees.
Charlie sighed with eager, nearly crazed anticipation as Nick drew his hands up Charlie’s inner thighs, his body quivering. He couldn’t wait for what it was all leading to, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning, the soft cries of pleasure spilling out of his throat. Charlie was harder than a Swiftie with a backdoor code hack to early ticket sales, but Nick still hadn’t touched him. Not there, not yet. He stirred his hips, trying to wordlessly entice Nick to dick. Instead, Nick just played with the soft white skin of his hips, making gentle contact with his mouth and fingers. Charlie moaned and bucked up, as if his pelvis was magnetically attracted to Nick. He whimpered and Nick paused, resting his head on Charlie’s inner thigh.
“Are you okay? Too much?”
Charlie let out a laugh that was half agony, half amusement. “Not enough. I want you to…”
“Soon.” Nick’s voice was warm honey spilling over him. “But not yet.”
Charlie keened when Nick pressed their hips together, both of them panting and straining with the anticipation of what was to come. Charlie reached forward to touch Nick, wanting him to get this pleasure, too, but Nick gently took his wrist.
“Please, Charlie,” Nick murmured in a gravelly voice. “Can this be about you?” He reached over Charlie’s head, pinning his arms in place. “Please?”
Charlie was unsure of how wide a person’s eyes had to open for their eyeballs to literally fall out, but he assumed he had to be close. Nick was on top of him, pinning him to the bed. This was literally the hottest thing that had ever happened. He nodded mutely, his mouth somehow both too dry and too wet to speak.
“Good,” Nick purred, this now becoming the hottest moment of Charlie’s life. He moaned as Nick ground against Charlie but then devastatingly pulled away, only to mouth Charlie’s nipples, his warm tongue flicking over the hard flesh.
No one had ever – this was… oh god… Charlie’s back arched and he gasped, one hand mindlessly clutching at the duvet underneath him.
Nick chuckled and the rumbles reverberated through Charlie’s chest and down to his dick, feeling like the strike of a gong. Charlie Jr quite literally might not survive this. Nick raised his head enough to look at Charlie, eyes hooded and heavy with lust through his eyelashes. “I thought you said you’d rather have no nipples rather than eight in the car the other day?”
“Wrong. I was wrong, Nick!” Charlie cried, his voice cracking in mind-dissolving pleasure as Nick massaged one nipple with his tongue and the other with his hand. Nick didn’t let up (in the best of ways), drawing his mouth to the tendon in front of Charlie’s armpit and dragging his lips along it. It was all so new and amazing and god, Charlie had never been so alive. His skin was crackling electricity, with every touch of Nick shooting currents of sparking pleasure though his body. Nick was straddling him, then Nick was kissing him. Nick was down by his feet, rubbing his ankles for a moment before Nick was pulling at his earlobe, interspersing sharp nips with hot, soothing, sucking tugs of his mouth. It was all so much and not enough and Charlie was writhing, too filled with effervescent sensation to stay still.
He almost broke into horny, astonished pieces when Nick slowly dragged Charlie’s hand to his mouth, taking Charlie’s index finger and sliding it up his smooth tongue. Nick moaned as he sucked on the digit, and Charlie wondered idly if they should have laid down a waterproof tarp with how copiously his dick was expressing its eagerness. Nick alternated that lascivious attention with feather-light kisses to the inside of Charlie’s wrists, making his vision spotty. It was a heady mixture of feelings, Nick sometimes going harder and rougher, but then interspersing with the softest loving Charlie had ever felt.
Charlie was getting mildly worried about the lack of blood to his brain when Nick finally dragged him over to the side of the bed. He was more worried when Nick teased him, wondering idly if it was possible for all of the blood in the human body to be in one organ. Nick drew the tip of Charlie’s dick along his throat before taking it into his mouth. Charlie’s back arched sharply and he let out a moaning gasp, a sound of pure desire and lust. His head fell back and he whimpered when Nick played with his balls, his pelvic muscles already squeezing and pulsating.
Nick pulled off for a moment, hand still on his bollocks. “Tell me when you’re close, okay?”
“Hmhmrmfm,” Charlie breathed as his hips twitched. He took a shaky breath, trying to assemble enough brain cells to translate that word into human speech patterns. “Okay.”
“Good,” Nick said in a low voice, the word wrapping around Charlie’s dick as warmly as his mouth.
Charlie let himself get lost in the pleasure, the waves of feeling slowly beginning to build. He fought the urge to tell Nick how to get him to the edge sooner, forcing himself to speak. “I’m close, Nick,” he stammered.
Nick hummed lightly against his dick and Charlie gasped. “Good,” he praised again and pulled back, hands off Charlie’s body, leaning back in to kiss the inside of his legs.
Charlie squealed and moaned, his breath stuttering in with shaky gasps. He wanted this so badly. He wanted to finish, yes, but this – this wasn’t even him not giving cues to move along faster. This was Nick, not even letting Charlie come yet. This was Nick, demanding that he be allowed to take his time with Charlie. The mouth around his dick was mind-blowing, yes, but this whole act? The entire thing was a prolonged orgasm.
He moaned in devastation when Nick reached for him, only to palm his arse and knead into the muscle instead of touching him where he was throbbing. Charlie tangled his fingers in Nick’s hair, making him moan this time. Charlie just pulled harder and Nick stirred slowly, hips gyrating. He took the (desperate) hint and took Charlie back into his mouth, Charlie emitting a long sound of gratified desire, starting low and ending with a high, breathless sigh.
Nick didn’t hurry, instead maintaining the same pace as before. Charlie couldn’t stop his hips from stirring in circles, consumed by fire and passion. After a few minutes of this, he tapped on Nick’s shoulder with shaking fingers. “I’m… I’m almost… god. Nick… Nick!”
Nick moaned when Charlie cried his name, the sound reverberating through Charlie’s body. He tensed and felt the billowing, swelling sensation between his legs crescendo, coming with a loud, ragged exclamation as he gripped Nick’s hair. Nick stayed on him, not pulling off until Charlie was completely finished and fully spent, a shell of a human.
Charlie lay on the bed like a broken doll, chest heaving. He murmured in closed-eyed surprise when he felt Nick kissing his body, lips gentle pressing everywhere except for his dick. That was good. As much as Charlie fucking loved Nick touching him there, he worried that additional stimulation might just cause Charlie to collapse in on himself like a dying star, leaving behind a hugely satisfied supernova where a sassy gay used to be.
Nick travelled up and down Charlie’s body a few times and then pulled him into his chest. Charlie flopped passively, unable to move even to wrap his hands and/or mouth (and to be honest, it would definitely be a both/and) around Nick’s raging erection. “I have no bones,” he mumbled. “You took all of them with your mouth and hands.”
Charlie could hear the proud grin in Nick’s voice. “Sorry about that. Does that mean no more bone-rs for you ever?”
Charlie cracked one eye open. “I served that one right up for you, didn’t I.”
“You sure did.”
“That was…” Charlie looked at Nick, trying to sum up a transcendent and foundational moment of his existence. He had never felt so loved before. “That was literally the most intense experience of my life.”
“Thank you,” Nick said, and Charlie pressed his lips together when he saw the proud little shimmy Nick gave. It was even more adorable when Nick blushed, clearly caught out.
Charlie giggled and moved closer, tangling their legs together so as much of their skin could touch as possible. “You’re amazing, Nick,” Charlie said in quiet awe. “Not just in bed, I mean,” he added with a grin before the enormity of how good this was settled on him again. “But… all of that. All of this. I feel…” Charlie broke off. What did he feel? He felt fucked, satisfied, vulnerable, comfortable, and for the first time, cared for. “God, I feel so safe with you, Nick.”
Nick’s face instantly changed, his mouth tightening with emotion. He nodded, cuddling Charlie close. “I feel safe with you, too, Char.”
Charlie took a long and slow inhale, then moved his hand to trace down Nick’s chest. God, this man. This giving, amazing man. “Now it’s your turn,” he purred, eager to pay Nick back for the depth of feeling he’d given Charlie. But even as Charlie moved to nestle between Nick’s thighs, he felt a strong and soft hand on his arm, pulling him back.
“Nope,” Nick said easily. “Not tonight. You don’t owe me an orgasm, Charlie. You don’t owe me anything. Being with you is what I want. Sometimes being with you involves coming for me, yeah. But not tonight.”
Charlie stared at the AI-created man in front of him. Okay, to be kind and funny and hot and smart was one thing. But to willingly turn down an orgasm to pay attention to Charlie again? Someone had majorly fucked up some programming when creating Chat GPNelson.
Nick grinned at him, his cheek quirking up. He pushed Charlie until he was on his back, dusting off his hands like the matter was settled. “Now,” he said in an overly formal tone. “If you'll excuse me, I’ve got some massaging to do.”
Charlie lay astonished on the bed while Nick went to his toiletry kit and then returned with lotion, slowly massaging Charlie’s body. He began to protest but paused, trying to take in this moment. You don’t owe me an orgasm, Nick had said. Charlie closed his eyes and imagined the opposite happening. He imagined giving Nick intense pleasure, and then just caretaking Nick after rather than chasing his own. That idea felt giving and intimate and… loving.
It felt like love.
Charlie allowed himself to drift away on the delicious feel of Nick’s hands on his body, muscles loose and relaxed. He’d quite literally never had this before, with a partner just caretaking him. It was amazing. It was comforting. It was endlessly soothing. And there were still other things that Charlie wanted, too.
“Nick?” he asked, words feeling fuzzy.
Nick leaned forward, his warm chest pressing against Charlie’s back. “Yeah, Char?”
“Tomorrow, Nick,” Charlie murmured, a pleasant, aching tingling already building again between his legs.
Tomorrow.
Notes:
With autumn getting closer I’m leaning into that hashtag keto lifestyle and eating the SHIT out of some carbs. Wait, am I doing keto right?
Focaccia is one of the easier breads to make – if you’ve ever thought it was too complicated, this is a great recipe to start with! This recipe uses a stand mixer with a dough hook, though you could do it by hand.
Ingredients
1¾ cups warm water, 105° to 115°F
2 teaspoons white sugar
1 package dry yeast (or 2 ¼ teaspoons)
500 grams all-purpose flour (4 cups)
2 teaspoons sea salt
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for your hands
Flaky sea salt for dusting the top of the bread
Optional: Fresh rosemary or basilStir the water and sugar in the bowl of the stand mixture. Sprinkle the yeast on top and stir again, then let it sit for 5 minutes for the yeast to get foamy.
Add the flour and salt and mix on low speed, making a rough dough. Then increase the speed to medium and mix for 5 minutes. The dough will be really sticky and grab onto the sides of the bowl like me onto the last vestiges of my youth.
Brush a separate bowl with 2 Tablespoons of olive oil and then use a spatula to transfer the dough to that bowl. Don’t use your hands to transfer the dough or else you’ll be playing Edward doughyhands. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and set it aside for 60 – 90 minutes until it doubles in size.
Brush a 9x13-inch baking dish with another 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Uncover the dough and rub your hands with olive oil. Use your lubed-up hand to slide under the dough (do it real sensually) and lift up the edges of the dough to fold it into itself. Work your way around until you have a rough ball that you can lift from the bowl.
Transfer the dough to the baking dish and turn it to coat it in oil, then press it to the edges of the pan. Let her relax – she’ll pull away from the edges, then press her to the edges again. Cover that bitch with plastic wrap/a damp towel and let rise again, about 45 minutes. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
Remove the wrap/towel and then drizzle the 2 Tablespoons of oil over the dough. Lube up the ol’ hands again and then use your fingers (heh) to press indentations over the dough. Sprinkle with salt and herbs (if using) and then bake for 20 - 30 minutes or until golden brown.
Chapter 56: Charlie's POV: Together
Summary:
Charlie and Nick continue their weekend in Clevedon. They keep it very chaste, a la Hallmark movie. (Yes – it’s THAT chapter.)
Notes:
Waveofyou? More like crave-of-boo. Because wavey is a total boo, and is unquestionably craveable. It made sense, don’t question it.
The stunning and talented songbird3724 recorded the entirety of the B. Hope chapter of Lavender Fields, specifically from Charlie’s POV. It is powerful and well-done. Truly, if you have not gotten a chance to listen to the podfic, do the Internet version of running over to it.
This one has le smut.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie kept his eyes closed as he stretched, then slowly rolled his head back and forth, still half-asleep. Sometimes when Charlie was travelling he woke up a bit disoriented, unsure of where he was and the space he was in.This time was completely different. Charlie came to consciousness fully aware that he was in bed with Nick Nelson. They were in bed together, on their first solo trip together, their legs touching one another and Nick's hand resting on Charlie's arm. Charlie was in bed with his boyfriend. Charlie's boyfriend was Nick Nelson. Charlie was in bed with his boyfriend, Nick Nelson.
What an incredible way to wake up.
Charlie heard Nick stirring and he stretched longer this time, exaggerating his movements and “accidentally” jostling Nick in the process. Nick made a happy sound and pulled Charlie into a messy embrace, the two of them softly laughing and rolling against one another as they awoke. Predictably, that turned into cuddling, which turned into kissing, which turned into hands snaking down each other's bodies and touching the parts that were covered by swimsuits. That turned into exclamations that they needed to brush their teeth which were then quickly forgotten in favour of not touching mouths and instead touching their mouths to… other things. Finally, they both were able to get up and brush their teeth, Charlie pulling on one of Nick's jumpers over his boxer briefs to stay warm. Of course that had made Nick growl with lusty pleasure and toss Charlie back on the bed, where the two of them continued to fondle one another until finally the insistent sounds of Nick's stomach were too loud to ignore.
“We need to eat,” Charlie sighed, resigned to the caloric needs of his body being just as real as the hormonal ones.
“I know what I want to eat,” Nick grinned, clicking his teeth and squeezing Charlie’s bum. Charlie gasped.
“Nicholas!” he exclaimed with shocked delight, clutching at the strings of Nick’s jumper hoodie as if they were pearls. “You filthy innkeeper!”
Nick looked puzzled, then shocked, then finally burst into laughter. “Oh my god. Oh! I didn’t mean… I just, like, meant, a bite of your bum?”
Charlie was giggling, nearly unable to stop. “Bite… my bum?” he squeaked out.
“Yeah, but, like, the cheek!” Nick huffed, blushing furiously. “Because it’s all muscly and nice? I didn’t mean – well, like, that.” He paused, looking as though he was considering. “I mean… I would? If you wanted me to? But–”
Charlie laid a hand on his chest, eyes goggling out of his head. Nick would do that? Nick would… Charlie decided to shove that thought down for a night he was in London with a massaging shower head and some private time with his fantasies. “Let’s just eat breakfast foods, Nick. Not bums, cheeks or not.”
“It made sense…” Nick mumbled, and Charlie grinned to himself as they took out their phones to look up some options.
Nick and Charlie compared menus until they found a place that sounded promising. Charlie showed Nick a few pictures of what it looked like inside, and it was really cute: close tables set near together with fresh-looking flowers on the tables.
“That place looks great,” Nick said. “Take away and eat here?”
“Let’s eat there,” Charlie suggested. “It looks nice inside.”
“Yeah,” Nick murmured, and Charlie felt Nick's body tighten just perceptibly.
Charlie put his phone down and looked at Nick, his own heart beating just a little bit faster. His brain began to dart automatically to anxiety and worry about Nick being concerned that this was about them being seen together and how Charlie needed to back off, but then…
No.
No, Charlie actually thought that it was possible that whatever was making Nick hesitate wasn't the fact that he’d be seen with Charlie. Yesterday, Nick had raised his arms and shouted at the sea that Charlie Spring was his boyfriend. Nick had told Charlie that he didn't care who saw them. He had told Charlie that it would be hard to come out and be public together. Nick didn't say it might be hard, he said it would be hard. He had spoken with certainty and assuredness – that he had no qualms about being seen with Charlie. Charlie took a grounding breath, allowing that warm security of yesterday to fold into the trust of today. And Charlie trusted Nick. Nick was safe.
“What's going on?” he asked softly, touching Nick’s arm. “What’s coming up?”
Nick sighed and pulled Charlie so that they were close together, the two of them cuddling nude in the bed. “I just want…” He trailed off, fingers tugging gently at a lock of Charlie’s hair. “I just want you to be ready, you know? For, like… attention?”
Charlie made a questioning sound that Nick must have interpreted as one of anxiety, because he touched Charlie’s chin to lock eyes together. “No, not like – I’m not worried for me, I’m worried for you! I truly don’t give a fuck who sees us for my sake. I just… I’m a little worried about people hounding you. I don’t want you to get harassed.” Nick’s arms momentarily tightened around him and Charlie revelled in the comforting, protective embrace. “Ever.”
Charlie’s body lightened, though it was only marginal relief since he hadn’t actually been that apprehensive. It was a bewildering feeling – to not feel anxious and to just feel curious. Charlie had been curious about what was coming up for Nick instead of whirring himself into a frenzy of dread, wondering how he could make Nick feel comfortable again. And thing of things – it wasn’t a big deal. This time, it sounded like Nick working himself up about something that was a non-issue. Charlie smiled to himself, wondering how many times he’d sounded like this to Nick and Nick had the same, easy, non-reaction.
“It’s fine, Nick,” Charlie said, reaching up to touch Nick’s cheek. “I know you’re worried about me, but I’m not.” He grinned at Nick and shrugged, trying to assuage his sweet boyfriend’s silly concern. “They wouldn’t find much on me; I’m really not that interesting.”
Nick sighed and leaned his head on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s just… I just don’t want anyone thinking they have the right to infringe on your life. I want to be with you. I want us to be public.” He lifted his head and met Charlie’s gaze, his brown eyes drawn together with tender care, like he felt guilty about what he was saying. “I just want to be sure that I don’t sugarcoat it for you, what could happen. People could ask you for interviews, or like, ask around at your work.”
Charlie nodded to show he was listening, though internally, none of this impacted him at all. He was just a normal person, with nothing newsworthy about him. He had a job and friends and a family and no major scandals. When he didn’t respond in words, Nick pointed at Charlie, tapping him on the nose with his index finder. “And don’t call my boyfriend uninteresting.”
That made Charlie laugh. He raised an eyebrow and wagged a finger back at Nick. “Don’t tell me what to do; my boyfriend will beat you up.” Nick chuckled, and Charlie shifted so that he could cradle Nick’s head against him. Charlie looked down at the perfect, kind, caring man who was in bed with him (and was his motherfucking boyfriend) and a surge of protective affection went through his chest. Nick was so good. He was worried about Charlie, and Charlie was worried about Nick. But, Charlie realised – neither one of them had to be worried for the other. Neither one of them had to plan for or take care of anything. Both of them could just be and exist, and then they’d deal with whatever came up. “If something happened, I feel like…” Charlie took a breath, willing himself to speak the words out loud. “I feel like we’d figure it out together.”
Nick nodded against Charlie’s arms, then cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice gravelly and sexy. He locked eyes with Charlie, and Charlie was grateful that the bed was underneath him to keep him from melting to the floor. “We would.”
Nick and Charlie both needed a few more minutes of languid kissing and snuggling before getting up, but they finally did. The day was cold, with a biting wind that might have felt unbearable in London. Here, by the sea, accompanied by Nick, Charlie felt like nothing could ever bother him again. Their arms bumped as they set off to walk the few blocks to the café, and Charlie felt his pulse quicken. He slowly reached over and tested the waters by knocking against Nick’s hand. When Nick didn’t pull away, Charlie took his hand, his chest warming when Nick responded by tucking their fingers closer together and running his thumb along Charlie’s forefinger.
It was real. All of this was real. Nick hadn’t just said words about not caring how they were seen together. He meant it. Those weren’t words that were meant to get Charlie to back off or pander to him when they were alone. Charlie marvelled at that at first, but then eased into being with Nick out in public together, in more ways than one. They walked hand in hand to breakfast, stopping periodically along the way to gaze in some of the town’s shop windows. They paused to admire a gorgeous painting, a swirl of yellows and blues criss-crossed with slashes of shimmery gold. As they looked at the artwork, Nick wrapped his arm around Charlie, pulling him close. At the restaurant, Nick touched Charlie’s wrist as the host led them to their table, the contact easy and unafraid. Even when they sat, Nick looked adoringly at Charlie, like a giant puppy who was thrilled to get to be with his favourite person.
It just… it never changed. Nick never changed. He never slid himself away from Charlie when the staff approached. The Nick in public was the same as the Nick in private. Well – mostly. There were certain things he did when the two of them were alone that Charlie could not wait for.
Charlie could not wait for those things.
After eating, Nick and Charlie strolled back towards the cottage, deciding to walk along the edge of the sea instead of through the town this time. They walked through a group of people to get to the rocky shoreline, Nick holding Charlie’s hand the entire time. With the men that Charlie had dated before, there always seemed to be a secret set of rules for different situations. There were ways to act and how to present when they were with friends, with strangers, while travelling, with work people. With Nick, there was no need to change what he did in different situations. With Nick, there was only one set of rules – a set of gentle, affectionate rules of being kind towards each other.
Once they were on the beach, Nick and Charlie were utterly alone, everyone else apparently scared off by the whipping wind and frigid temperatures. Nick stopped for a moment and gazed at the sea and Charlie did as well, smiling when Nick wrapped himself around Charlie. He closed his eyes, recalling that there had been people milling about, people who could easily see them. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter to Nick. It was just… them.
“It’s almost like being back at Lavender Fields,” Charlie said quietly, reflecting again on how Nick never treated him differently no matter where they were.
Charlie could hear the cheeky smile in Nick’s voice. “Yeah, but the waves at the farm are way bigger.”
Charlie snorted. “Dick.” Nick chuckled and pressed the freezing tip of his nose against Charlie’s neck, making him yelp and try to wriggle away. Nick tightened his embrace to keep Charlie close, and he settled back into the strong rugby arms. He smiled and closed his eyes, leaning his head against Nick’s chest. “I mean… like this. Like us just getting to be together.”
He could feel Nick nodding against his back. “I thought about that too. At the match. It was like – it was still just you and me, like it was back at the inn. But it was like… it’s like I forgot that the rest of the world existed, too. When we were there, I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” was all Charlie could reply. He was once again overwhelmed by Nick, saying aloud the same things that Charlie thought. He, too, felt like when it was him and Nick, the rest of the world fell away, leaving them in their private, protected cocoon. It was awing to know that Nick felt the same. He took a long breath in, trying to permanently stitch in yet another perfect moment into the fabric of his soul. Charlie settled back against Nick’s chest again, suddenly recalling that they wouldn’t have Lavender Fields just to themselves for very long. “When’s your mum coming back again?”
“Thursday, actually.”
A low, throbbing swoop took over Charlie’s pelvis, though not from thinking about Thursday. Thursday was then. Thursday was later. They had right now. He turned to grin at Nick, placing one hand on the leg of Nick’s joggers. “Guess we’ll need to be as raucous as possible before then.”
He saw a flash of something primal in Nick’s eyes, though he offered a badly play-acted shrug. “There’ll be guests.” Nick’s casual words and tone were in direct contrast to the way that his hips twitched forward, back arching just incrementally.
Charlie turned in Nick’s arms and with shaky, giddy nerves, kissed up the side of Nick’s throat and pretended to be similarly unaffected. He had just kissed Nick’s neck in public. “Why would there be guests?”
“Seeking…” Nick said breathlessly, a little whimper to his tone. “A bed… and/or… breakfast…”
“That… is homophobia,” said Charlie lightly, lips brushing against his boyfriend’s neck.
“I know.” Nick’s voice sounded a million miles away and there was a quaver in it as Charlie slid his hands under Nick’s shirt, pressing his hands against the warm, firm muscle. God, Charlie wanted to press more than his hands against Nick’s body.
“In that case,” Charlie said throatily. “We’ll have to be as raucous as possible tonight.” He punctuated the last word with one last press of his lips to Nick’s, then turned and took Nick by the hand. Charlie grinned at the desperate little sound he heard emitted behind him, a plaintive note carried away by the wind.
When they were inside, they were on each other in an instant. Charlie pressed himself against Nick, Nick impacting the wall behind them with a rumbling, sexy grunt. Their hands were all over one another. Charlie grabbed the collar of Nick’s jacket and jerked it to the side so he could access Nick’s neck and shoulder with his mouth. He’d perhaps never felt a hunger like this before for another person. Charlie had felt lust and desire and wanting of course, but it had always felt like it was tethered by some anchor that prevented Charlie from expressing those fully. In the past, Charlie had wanted to temper his own urges by not appearing too eager or too desperate or too anything. With Nick, though, any anchors that had ever been attached to him were shorn cleanly away, leaving his body to surge forward fully and heedlessly.
Nick didn’t seem to mind at all, throwing his head back and clutching at Charlie’s body with trembling fingers. Lost in the waves of sensuality that pounded through his body, Charlie was trying to touch all parts of Nick at the same time. He ran his hands up and down the back of Nick’s body as their chests pressed together, cupping his firm arse and then trailing his fingers around to the front of Nick’s body. Charlie could already feel Nick against him, hard and straining. He moaned and surged closer, tucking his fingers into the waistband of Nick’s joggers. His mouth was water as he reached–
“Wait,” gasped Nick, gently squeezing Charlie’s shoulder.
Charlie stopped, heart pounding in his ears. “Yeah?” he asked, brain a swirling mess of heat and love and sex. “What’s – what…”
Nick shook his head immediately. “No, everything’s fine, Charlie.” They both looked down at Nick’s joggers and Charlie had to stifle a giggle at how clearly “fine” Nick looked. “I just, um…” Nick pulled Charlie over to the sofa, his chest heaving. “I wanted to see. Do you still – last night we talked about having, like, full-on sex.” Full-on sex. Oh dear lord, Charlie loved this man so much. “God, am I fifteen?”
Charlie snorted. “I’ve seen your refractory period, at least some part of you is fifteen.”
Nick blushed, but laughed too. He leaned his head against the back of the sofa as he looked at Charlie, an adorably shy expression on his face. “Would you – would you be up for that? You… on top?”
Charlie’s brain flashed a bright red exclamation mark. Sex. Sex with Nick. Nick and Charlie have sex. FRIENDS: The One Where Nick and Charlie Have Penetrative Intercourse. Oh, this was an episode that Charlie had wanted for a long time. A looooong time. Though to be honest, he’d always expected it to go a little differently. Charlie was embarrassed to admit that he’d assumed Nick was and would only want to be a top. It was silly and there was no real rationale to it beyond stereotypes, but the thought had still existed in his mind.
Charlie looked at his boyfriend, overwhelmed by just how kind, gorgeous, and continually surprising Nick Nelson was. “I… I would, yeah.”
“You would?” Nick asked, looking at him carefully. “Or you want to?”
Charlie smiled softly. Of course Nick would check to make sure it wasn’t just Charlie agreeing to something he didn’t want to do. “I just – I like, I haven’t done that… ever,” he admitted, feeling a little shy himself now, as though Nick might judge him. He knew that thought was completely unreasonable, but gave himself permission to know it was there inside of him. “Topped, I mean.”
“Do you like it?” Nick asked, interlacing his fingers with Charlie’s and gently stroking the spaces between Charlie’s fingers. It was incredibly sexy. “Bottoming usually, I mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you usually do it?”
Charlie had opened his mouth to nod and tell Nick how much he liked to bottom, which he did. He did enjoy it, yes. However – that was just always his role, as if it were assigned to him. He liked that role, but… “I guess?” Charlie said, considering how to put it into words. “I think it was also just what I was, like, supposed to do. Like – I don’t know. It was, like, the expectation? I guess there have been stereotypes, you know?” Charlie shook his head, partially at himself. He’d fed into the same narrative, thinking and assuming Nick would be a top. “Seems kind of dumb when I say it out loud. Like, it’s already not a stereotype of a relationship, two guys. Funny that there are still stereotypes with this, too. Or can be.”
Nick nodded and smiled, running his hand up Charlie’s side and making him shiver. “So…” Nick said, voice low and sexy. “What do you think about tonight, then?”
Charlie looked back at the man beside him. Nick was beside him not just physically, but metaphorically. It was partnership, an equal balance of needs, desires, and wants. “I… I do want to try that. I mean, it’ll be new, you know? For both of us, I mean. I do like to bottom, but… I mean – you might, too?” He looked up through his eyelashes at Nick, still a bit conditioned to worry how Nick might react to any perceived, imagined threat against his masculinity.
Instead, Nick just gave Charlie a broad, nearly giddy smile. “I might, yeah. I might like topping, too. Or both.”
Charlie laughed and nodded. “Or both.”
“So,” said Nick, after a pause. “Tonight…?”
A rumbling vibration of heady desire was swelling and reverberating through Charlie’s body, originating from his dick and sending ripples of aching, keening sensations through his veins. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I just might not totally know what I’m doing.”
“Me neither,” said Nick with an easy shrug. “So we’ll figure it out together, right? I’m sure we can.”
Charlie leaned his head back, giggling at the phrasing. He made an obscene gesture with his fingers, pretending he couldn’t get his index finger penis into the little forefinger-thumb bumhole of the other hand. “Like this?”
Nick threw his head back and laughed. “Exactly.” Then his smile turned into something else and he leaned his forehead towards Charlie, pressing himself against Charlie’s chest. Charlie murmured as Nick cuddled in for a moment, kissing Nick’s hair and holding him closely. This man. This brave, curious, sexy man.
As their snuggling turned more sexual and they began to strip off each other’s clothes, Nick and Charlie made their way into the bedroom. They kissed and frotted against one another until Nick tore himself away with a pathetic, adorable whine, blushing slightly and excusing himself to the bathroom.
“I’ll, uh – I’ll get ready,” Nick said, his neck an adorable shade of pink as he got up.
Charlie pressed himself up on his elbows, not sure how to best support Nick. “Do you need – anything? Any, like – guidance?” He winced a bit, wondering if that sounded like he thought Nick was clueless.
“No, I Googled a lot,” Nick said, and Charlie flopped back on the bed, giggling.
“Of course you did.”
“Actually,” said Nick, the flush still in his neck. “Maybe I should have called it Poo-gling?”
Charlie let out a genuine guffaw of laughter, then clapped his hands over his mouth. “Oh my god, Nick!”
Nick shook his head, apparently too overcome with embarrassed giggles, and disappeared into the bathroom. Charlie shook his head at the perfect man he was here with, and grinned at the closed door. Nick. He could not imagine how perfectly Nick-coded the Google searches on his computer would have been.
Prep for bum things man with other man
Want to have sex with boyfriend am also a boyfriend what prep needed to receive the sex
Man sex with man how to make nice for everyone
As the water ran in the bathroom, Charlie’s mind drifted. He had spent so much time in his head thinking about how lucky he was to get to be with Nick. Charlie had almost felt as though he was on his back foot with every experience, continually surprised at what it felt like to have a partner who was so attentive to his needs and caring about his thoughts. Everything felt like a breakable dream, as if Charlie had been holding his breath in amazement that the world could feel like this. He had spent months with that feeling, revelling at the idea that Nick would choose to be with him.
What was utterly astounding, though, was that Nick seemed to feel the same fucking way. It truly was astounding. It boggled Charlie's mind to have Nick speak about him in the same way as Charlie thought about Nick. To him, Nick was the most precious thing in the world, and Charlie would do quite literally anything to make him happy and comfortable. But… it genuinely seemed as though Nick felt the same thing. The way he looked at Charlie, the way he touched Charlie, the way he acted around Charlie… In the same way that Charlie felt desperately lucky to be with Nick, it appeared as though Nick felt the same.
As he lay waiting for Nick to come back, Charlie started wondering about Nick's previous romantic experiences. Charlie had spent a lot of time thinking about how different this relationship was compared to those in his past, and he was suddenly, intensely curious if it was similar for his boyfriend. Nick, like Charlie, had probably been stereotyped. He was a massive and strong man, a hulking body that Charlie knew he had made assumptions about. He had assumed Nick was a top, he had assumed Nick was straight – he had assumed so many things about Nick.
There were those stereotypes at play, but Nick had also been in heterosexual-presenting relationships before Charlie. Charlie knew some and not all of those expectations, though he had the sense that Nick had probably rarely been taken care of. Charlie had to guess that Nick was the one expected to take care of other people, especially his romantic partners. He was probably expected to be protective and to provide a sense of comfort and safety. With that, Charlie wondered if Nick had gotten all of the tenderness that he deserved. His throat ached a little, thinking about if Nick had ever been treated the way that he had treated Charlie the night before.
Charlie wanted to give Nick that. Charlie wanted Nick to be allowed to feel protected and safe. He wanted Nick to feel taken care of.
When Nick came out of the loo, Charlie pulled him back onto the bed and wrapped his arms around the large body, his heart aching with affection. This was new, for both of them – Charlie topping and Nick bottoming – and Charlie was going to do everything in his power to make Nick feel loved. They lay cuddled for a few moments, Nick’s body curled small and Charlie wrapped around him, hoping Nick could feel the depths of his affection via osmosis.
That sweet, platonic cuddling shifted into something altogether different as they lay in that position, Charlie spooning Nick. Charlie groaned when Nick turned his head to kiss him long and deep. That moan turned into a soft, guttural moan when Nick began to slowly rock his hips in small circles, grinding his bare arse against Charlie’s groin. Charlie’s eyes momentarily rolled back in his head before he took a deep breath in, clutching Nick’s body close to his. They moved against each other, Charlie’s hips meeting Nick’s arse over and over. On a particularly long, hard press forward, Charlie felt his dick slip between Nick’s bum cheeks. Not in, but between, and he hesitated, one hand clutching across Nick’s chest as he waited to see if Nick was alright with this.
Nick, that fucking temptress of French-speaking, pastry-making, rugby-armed perfection, nearly demolished Charlie in one go, moaning and arching his back to get closer to Charlie. Charlie let out a shivery sigh and thrust up and forward, both he and Nick practising the motion that would soon be happening in an entirely different way. Charlie was awash in electric pleasure as they moved and murmured against one another. He was braced against Nick’s back, his spine almost disintegrating when Nick wrapped a foot around Charlie’s calf to draw them even deeper together. Nick’s exhales were tinged with whimpering moans, and it was nearly too much to take.
Charlie leaned close to Nick’s ear, even as he kept his hips flowing forward and up, over and over. “Do you want to lay down on the bed?”
Nick’s eyes fluttered open with what looked like effort. His mouth was just open, his kiss-swollen bottom lip pink and plump. “Yeah,” he murmured, adjusting his body to lay on the bed.
Charlie admired the amazing body that contained an even more amazing person inside, drawing his hands up Nick’s body and then taking a pillow from the head of the bed and sliding back down. He knelt by Nick’s hips and took in the sight of Nick’s smooth, muscular arse, needing to try twice before he got words out.
Charlie moved the pillow to Nick’s side and touched one of his hips as if it cue him. “I like it sometimes when… maybe slide this under your hips?” murmured Charlie.
Nick’s eyes were heavy with desire as he blinked slowly and smiled at Charlie, drawing the pillow under his hips. Charlie watched with jealousy as Nick’s penis pressed against the fabric of the pillow, hoping those 500-thread count cases were counting their blessings to cradle something so magnificent. “What for?”
Charlie swallowed. He had put Nick like this because it was one of his favourite ways for prep, during the rarer times a partner did it with him. It allowed hands and it also allowed, well… “I want to…” Charlie began, his heart racing. Would Nick be into this? Would this be too much or would Nick think that Charlie was, like, too dirty? “Can I use my mouth on you? Like – start to get you ready with my mouth?”
Nick looked at Charlie, his eyebrows lifting in an expression of genuine surprise. “You would… you’d do that?”
Charlie still felt a bit shy, but far less so now. He had recognised the look on Nick’s face, the one of astonished wonder. It had been the same one that he’d experienced last night when Nick had worshipped attention on him for hours. “I, uh – for me,” Charlie said, feeling a bit off-kilter from recognising some of his own insecurities in Nick, though in a good way. “It feels really, really good for me. And in the past – like, before Ben – it was something that helped me get ready. I’ve been - since I’ve rarely done this before, I’ve read a lot, and…” He trailed off, blushing now. He had only had this done to him a few times, but god, those times… Charlie had remembered the sensations almost physically in his body.
When Charlie looked over at Nick, Nick had a broad, cheeky grin on his face. “Oh, good, I’m glad I’m not the only one with an apparently filthy Google search history.”
Charlie snorted and leaned his head on Nick’s chest. “Larry Page would be rolling over in his grave right now.”
“The founder of Google? I’m pretty sure he’s still alive, Charlie…”
“Oh. Well, then, sorry to this man.”
Nick laughed, the sound rumbling against Charlie’s ear. He sounded relaxed and at ease, not judging Charlie or what he proposed. Yet another layer of anxiety dropped off of Charlie in an instant. He trusted Nick entirely, so there was no reason to not trust that Nick would be an equal partner in sex. Nick would tell him if there was something he did or did not want to do. This wasn’t a guessing game. This was communication.
Charlie pressed his lips against Nick’s ear and lowered his voice to a purring murmur. “So… Are you okay with that? With me doing that to you?”
Nick nodded for several moments, fingers tightening in Charlie’s hair. “Yeah. If you’re really okay with that.”
Another burst of lust thrummed through Charlie’s body and he bit Nick’s earlobe, not enough to hurt but enough to make Nick throw his head back and croon out a moan. “I am,” Charlie breathed.
He rolled off of Nick and slowly trailed his fingers down Nick’s back. Nick’s breath was shallow and caught a few times when Charlie moved down his body, though every time Charlie stopped to check, Nick rolled his hips and whined for more. Charlie tucked the pillow more securely and pressed his palms against Nick’s knees to press them apart. Nick did so, leaning forward a little onto his forearms and making Charlie gasp.
“Fuck, Nick,” he breathed, almost unable to take in the sight of the perfect man in front of him, open and eager for Charlie’s touch. He never knew that being desired – and having his touch so openly desired – could be such a powerful aphrodisiac. “You’re so – you’re so fucking hot.”
Nick’s voice sounded shyly pleased. “Like… this?”
Charlie nodded emphatically before remembering that Nick couldn’t see him. “Like this,” he said aloud, kneeling behind Nick and taking one of his hips in his hands. “Are you okay? Still green?”
Nick’s response was immediate and emphatic. “Yeah.”
Charlie grinned and ran a hand up the inside of Nick’s thigh. “Okay, then.”
The next few minutes were ones that might live forever in his mind and in his genitals. Nick was an incredibly giving partner in every way, and one of those ways was in how freely he gave his own pleasure. Just like with affection, there was no need to intuit how Nick felt about things. On the first stroke of Charlie’s tongue, Nick bucked forward and then back again, delicious sounds spilling out of his throat. Charlie could feel his own fingers quivering on the back of Nick’s thighs as Nick choked out his name, gasping and arching his back.
“God, Charlie, that – you – oh, Jesus, Char, god yes, please keep… yes!”
Charlie grinned to himself before returning his attention to Nick. Nick was incredibly rewarding to pleasure – his vocalisations, the movements of his body, and the way he gasped Charlie’s name over and over were a gift Nick didn’t even know he was providing. After a few minutes, Charlie was nearly panting with how hot it was to experience Nick experiencing this. He was twitching and keening when Charlie finally drew back, his hips periodically pressing against the pillow as if to seek the relief of friction. Nick let out a trembling sigh and collapsed down. Charlie giggled and pressed a kiss to each bum cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, but not before sliding a hand between Nick’s legs and giving him a long, firm stroke down his dick. Nick twitched again and gasped, a desperate and wanting sound that followed Charlie to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and washed his hands before going back into the bedroom where Nick was still in the same position.
Charlie lay his body on top of Nick’s and spoke into his ear. “Feeling okay?”
Nick’s voice was a melted ice lolly. “I feel like my brain font is Wingdings right now.”
“Oh my god, you absolute nerd,” said Charlie through giggles. “What a throwback.”
“Your nerd.”
Charlie smiled, and hugged around Nick’s torso. His. Nick was his because he wanted to be his. “Yeah. My nerd.” Nick slowly turned over and Charlie felt a burst of pride from how wrecked he already looked. “Liked that, did you?”
“Liked?” Nick repeated, awe in his tone. “God, Charlie. That was… if sex is anything like that, I’m about to rue wasting the last fourteen years of my life.”
Thirty one… minus fourteen… get it, secondary school version of Nick, Charlie mused. “Ah, so seventeen-year-old Nick Nelson. Getting some for the first time.”
Nick shrugged casually. “I don’t want to brag, but I lasted more than eight seconds.”
Charlie laughed loudly, snorting against Nick’s chest. “Oh, stop making me jealous.”
Nick shook his head and wagged a finger at Charlie. “Just you wait. It’s me tonight, yeah, but when it’s your turn… I’ll give you the best three inches of the worst thirty seconds of your life.”
Charlie giggled again and Nick joined in, their bodies close together and foreheads touching. Nick would giggle and it would make Charlie’s head bounce and make him laugh harder, then the same thing would happen to Nick. The fact that they could switch like this, from hard to soft, lust to laughter, and have it still feel the same – well, it was something Charlie had never thought possible. It took them a moment to settle back down and as they did, Nick’s hand found the nape of Charlie’s neck. He suppressed a moan when Nick lightly traced his pointer finger along the back of his neck, a shivery and perfect feeling. He wanted Nick. He wanted Nick so badly. More than anything, though, he wanted Nick to feel safe. He wanted Nick to feel taken care of, the way Charlie had last night.
“I want…” Charlie began, not sure how to express it. Start small. Start with small, true statements. “I know the type of prep that feels good for me. And if it’s been a while, sometimes it takes a lot of prep and a good amount of time. You… I want you to take all the time you need, Nick. We’ll take all the time you need. So if you still want to keep going tonight, we’ll go slow. And tonight might just be prep and, like, practice, and that’ll be great. We don’t need to do anything.”
Nick’s face had been soft as he listened to Charlie, his eyebrows constricting a few times. Charlie saw his lips press together and nearly asked about it, but then Nick reached forward to touch Charlie’s cheek. “I want more, Charlie,” he said, in a voice that filled up Charlie with searing heat. “I want everything.” Nick punctuated the last word by jerking Charlie’s hips to his, making all thoughts abandon Charlie’s mind, fleeing from the invading hormones.
“I want you, Nick,” he managed to get out, the desire making his throat ache like thirst. “Can you turn back over?”
“Yeah,” breathed Nick. “What do I… how do you want me to…?”
Any fucking way, baby. Charlie pushed back that naughty thought and reached up to rearrange some pillows on the bed so Nick could partially prop himself on them. “Like this,” he said, bending one of Nick’s legs so that it was hitched up at a 90-degree angle. Charlie paused for a moment and took in this sight of Nick, the position making his arse look even more pert and firm than ever. He swallowed, his mouth quite literally watering. “Can I…can I touch you now?”
Nick gave a tiny shiver and wiggled his hips in a nearly life-ending way. “Yes, Char.”
Cool, yeah. This is cool. Just about to prep my super-hot, professional rugby boyfriend for his first anal sex encounter. This is fine. You do this all the time, Charlie.
Charlie opened the bottle of lube and spread some on his fingers. God, Nick like this… with him… and wanting him… Charlie had never felt more turned on and present. He was momentarily worried that his over-eager penis was going to slip out of his hands and fly around the room like a released balloon, making a prolonged thbbbbtbtbttbb sound. “Relax as much as you can, baby,” Charlie murmured, seeing Nick shiver again and hearing him let out a pleasured-sounding sigh. “Keep talking to me, okay? Let me know how it feels, how you’re feeling?”
“I will,” Nick exhaled, his back arching.
Charlie took it slow, which was mainly for Nick, of course. However, Charlie also felt like he was taking it slow for himself, too. This was… sure, this was prep for sex, if they ended up having it, but it didn’t have to be means to an end. There was so much beauty here in what they were doing. Charlie was taking his time and authentically enjoying how he and Nick would progress forward with more depth or fingers and then ease back, both of them panting and murmuring things to one another as they did. Any pleasure that the two of them exchanged was gorgeous in its own way, and Charlie realised how Nick must have felt the night before when he lavished attention on Charlie’s body. It was a genuine fucking gift to get to treat Nick like this.
He watched and listened to Nick intently, never wanting to push too far and checking in often. Nick was quite the eager bottom, beginning to push back on Charlie’s hand when he switched from two fingers back to one. Charlie grinned to himself and used two again, this time tapping until–
“What was that?!” Nick burst out, his body jolting.
Charlie chuckled and stopped, kissing Nick’s back. “That was your prostate. Haven’t you had your physical before?”
“Uh, I would have tipped my doctor if it felt like that,” Nick said breathlessly, laughing through it. “That was…”
Charlie paused. “Was that okay?”
“God, yeah. Can you, uh – can you do that again?”
Charlie grinned, feeling dead chuffed. “This?” he asked innocently, pressing the same spot.
“Yes!” Nick yelped, Charlie nearly keening at the way Nick clenched around his fingers. “Oh, god – that, yes, yes – oh…” Nick was writhing, hips grinding against that slutty pillow who was trying to steal Charlie’s man. “I want…” Nick moaned as Charlie partially withdrew, scissoring his fingers again. “I want more. I want you.”
Charlie smiled and leaned close to Nick’s ear again. “Almost, baby.” He wanted that – he wanted that so badly – but he mostly wanted it to feel good for Nick. He withdrew his hand, added more lube, and entered Nick again slowly, this time with three fingers.
“Oh god,” Nick breathed, his exhale a hiss. Charlie paused but Nick shook his head. “It feels – god, I love the feeling of you, Charlie,” he murmured, eyes closed and neck arched back. “Keep… yeah.”
Charlie kept it slow and careful, though inside, he was an effervescing geyser of lust, every motion and noise that Nick made searing through him like white-hot desire. He felt a building sense of power as they continued, though it wasn’t a power over Nick. It was more a power within himself, the knowledge that Nick wanted him, that Nick wanted this and Charlie could give it to him. It was an incredible feeling that he’d rarely experienced and he continued to open Nick up as Nick moaned and grunted beneath him.
“I want…” Nick’s voice was a plea. “I want you. Charlie… I want you. I want you – not your hand,” he breathed, one hand reaching back blindly to clutch for Charlie. “I want you in me.”
I want you in me. Those words, which he had once found cringe-inducing in his early twenties, were the sexiest thing Charlie could imagine. It was as if those words were dripping with sweet juice, the cool relief that could finally quench the thirst that had ached for months. Charlie pulled out carefully and lay on Nick’s back for a moment. “I want you too, Nick.” He got up with some reluctance, not wanting to leave, and Nick rolled over to watch him as Charlie retrieved the optimistically-purchased box of condoms from the bathroom. “Do you feel ready, Nick?” he asked, then stopped. “That felt like that movie line…”
Nick giggled, but it wasn’t at Charlie. “Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you? And yes, I feel very ready,” he said with a grin. Charlie rolled his eyes and blushed, and then looked up to see Nick’s gaze on the box in his hands. “I guess - we didn’t talk about that, did we?”
“Oh, no, I guess we didn’t.” Charlie replied, looking at the condom. “I just assumed we’d want to use them?”
Nick’s face was open, with nothing hidden in his soft brown eyes. “I’m absolutely happy to,” he said. “I also haven’t - I haven’t done anything with anyone since Marla, and have gotten checked since then; all clear. Have – have you gotten checked?” Nick asked, and there was hesitation in his voice. “Since…”
Ah, that was the hesitation. The unsexiest foreplay ever – the mention of B. Hope. “Yeah,” Charlie replied with a scowl, thinking of the trip to the clinic that he’d had to ensure in London. I got checked after I was at Lavender Fields that first time, actually. I ended up hearing from some mutual friends right after things ended that he – that Ben had been sneaking around. For years, literally. I wanted to make sure I didn’t… that he didn’t pass something along to me without me knowing.”
A wave of anger crossed Nick’s face, but it didn’t scare Charlie. He knew it wasn’t about him. “Fuck, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“Kind of fits, doesn’t it?” Charlie shrugged, then sighed. It had been shit to know that Ben had been cheating at the moment, but in retrospect, the visit to the clinic had just been the final period on the terrible sentence that was his ex. “But yeah, fortunately nothing came up, and I did a full panel.”
Charlie sat on the bed and Nick lifted himself to take Charlie’s hand. “I mean, yeah, that’s good. But you never deserved to be treated like that in general.”
Charlie looked at Nick, at the man who had fixed him. No, that… that wasn’t quite right. Charlie had fixed himself. He had rebuilt himself. Nick had just helped him see that he was worth doing so. “I know that now,” Charlie said, trying to say it all with his eyes.
With the way Nick was looking at him, soft and with endless care, Charlie thought he got it.
“So,” Nick said softly. “Condoms. I’m fine if you don’t want to use one with me, you know, bottoming. We’re both STI-free, and I know that for me, at least, I don’t have any interest in doing anything with anyone else. I completely trust and endorse whatever decision you want to make, too - and saying that you want to use a condom isn’t saying you want to see other people, of course. It’s whatever makes you comfortable.”
This man. This giving, open man. Charlie hadn’t known honesty and communication could feel like such gifts. Nick didn’t want to see anyone else. He didn’t want to be with anyone else. And He didn’t need to hide that from Charlie. “I… I don’t want to be with anyone else,” Charlie said, in a very ridiculous understatement. And–” he held up a hand, not wanting to insinuate that that would be the only reason to use condoms. “And… yeah. We’re monogamous and we’ve both tested and are clear. I guess we could have talked about this before we had other kinds of sex before this, too,” he said, reflecting on just how many blowjobs had already been exchanged.
Nick chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I think I was too focused on my mouth being on certain other things that I didn’t even think to ask.”
“You and me both,” grinned Charlie wryly. They smiled at each other before Charlie caught himself and nodded. “If you’re okay – truly okay – with no condom, I am, too.”
“I am.”
Nick lunged forward and pulled Charlie in for a kiss that started soft but then ratcheted up quickly. In no time, Nick was pulling against Charlie’s hips and Charlie was tugging at Nick’s hair and their bodies were in hard, hot motion against each other. Their thighs were interlocked and both of them kept thrusting forward hard, desperate to make connection with one another. Nick was moaning with every press of his hips forward and it was finally too much to take.
“Do you want to try…” Charlie panted, trying to regain his breath. “Like, maybe go back to how you were laying before? I know that’s felt nice for me in the past.” Nick nodded and went back to the same position, his leg bent and ass looking perfect.
Charlie pressed close behind Nick so that his dick was pressed against his arse, then leaned forward to wrap himself around Nick. This was sex, yes, but more importantly – it was them. It was them, together.
“You okay?” Charlie asked.
Nick didn’t reply at first, but just turned his head to kiss Charlie deeply and slowly, his tongue tracing the inside of Charlie’s mouth and turning his hamstrings to water. “I’m ready.”
Charlie’s heart was thumping, thunderously loud in his chest. “I’m going to go slow,” he said, nearly overwhelmed with emotion. “I won’t move until you tell me, okay?”
“Yeah,” murmured Nick as he pressed his arse back towards Charlie. “Charlie… I want – I want…”
“I want you, Nick.” Charlie stood on his knees and held himself in his hand, chest heaving. It was lust, yes, but also – god, also love. Charlie loved Nick with every part of his body and heart.
“I’m ready, Char…”
Charlie took a deep, slow breath and slowly pushed forward. Nick gasped out a tiny sound, clutching the pillow now, and Charlie stopped.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Nick nodded wordlessly, reaching back and touching Charlie’s hand. Charlie closed his eyes and blinked the moisture away, then rubbed Nick’s back as he slowly moved forward again with cues from Nick until the head of his dick was inside.
“You’re amazing,” Charlie repeated with incredulity to Nick. He couldn’t believe that they were here, doing this. He couldn’t believe that Nick was softly groaning beneath him, murmuring Charlie and yes and oh god over and over. He couldn’t believe the warm, silky feeling of Nick’s body, both underneath and surrounding him. “You’re so amazing, baby.”
Nick reached back again and touched his hand. “You can…” Nick inhaled deeply. “More, Charlie.”
More.
The word burned through Charlie’s veins, filling him with glowing embers of heat. He gripped Nick’s hips and slowly pressed forward, stopping even before Nick said to, wanting this to be good for Nick. They moved together in a slow, unhurried dance as Charlie drove himself forward and Nick breathed into it, still calling out Charlie’s name. After one last push forward, Charlie’s fingers trembled on Nick’s hips. Nick was entirely around him, his heat like a vise of warm velvet.
“It’s… I’m…” Charlie panted, staggered at how good this felt. Not just physically, but good in all ways. He… god. Charlie had always hated the term “making love,” feeling like it was maudlin and too sugary-sweet, but this is what it felt like. It felt like love. Love, respect, kindness, desire, and trust. He swallowed hard and then his heart jumped when he heard Nick let out a sound, a tiny mewl that might have been pain. “Nick – baby,” Charlie breathed, leaning forward and cupping Nick’s cheek. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Nick shook his head and sniffled. “Nothing’s wrong. This just… god, Char. This feels so perfect.”
Charlie let out a note of surprised laughter, and Nick murmured and pushed back against him, seeming to enjoy the way that it felt inside him. “This feels… you feel incredible, Nick,” Charlie said, still astonished that this was his life. “This is fucking incredible. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m so good,” Nick choked out, and Charlie squeezed his burning eyes shut, a tear escaping. Charlie’s cheek was against Nick’s and they both stayed there for a moment, connected in every possible way.
“Charlie.” The way Nick said it – the feeling in his voice – the emotion underneath… It was everything. This was everything.
“Nick,” Charlie whispered back, trying to pour all his love for Nick into the word.
“Will you move, Char?” Nick’s voice had the edge of a plea in it again and Charlie was glad he wasn’t standing with how his legs would have buckled.
“Yeah,” he said roughly. Charlie lifted himself to stand on his knees behind Nick. He slowly drew back, the sensations along his shaft more intense than he could have imagined. It was all so good and right and god. He withdrew until he was just inside Nick, and then moved forward, long and slow and deep.
“God, Charlie!” Nick keened. The sounds he was making were almost physically palpable. “Fuck – yes!”
“Still okay?” said Charlie, holding himself flush against Nick.
Nick squirmed against him, as if trying to get Charlie even deeper. It was… the hottest, most drippingly erotic thing Charlie had ever experienced.
“Keep… keep going,” Nick moaned. “More.”
Charlie was going to die.
Well, if he were going to die right now, this was the way to go. Buried in and fully connected to Nick Nelson, their bodies together in a way that made Charlie feel entirely whole. Charlie moaned as he drew back and then thrust forward, gaining in speed and power as Nick reached back to pull him closer. Nick tangled one of his hands in Charlie’s hair and Charlie whimpered, pressing forward to brace himself against Nick’s body. He thrust forward and up, over and over, Nick breathlessly asking for more.
It was like nothing Charlie had experienced. He’d never been so present and so soul-fillingly connected with another person. He could feel all of the nerves in his body firing, could feel the way his muscles wrapped around his bones. He could feel the way Nick quivered and tensed around him, trapping him in the most orgasmic way imaginable. The sounds they were making mixed and mingled, a rising harmony of pleasure. They changed positions which allowed Charlie to get physically deeper in Nick, but the emotional side of it – god. Their hands were clutching one another, legs tangled. Nick was writhing and moaning as Charlie thrust into him from behind as they lay on their sides, seemingly desperate for relief. Charlie made an encouraging sound when Nick finally touched himself, the visual nearly driving him mad when combined with the incredible feeling around his dick.
“Charlie,” Nick panted. “I’m… I’m going to finish.”
Yes. This was what Charlie wanted. He wanted Nick, happy, safe, satiated, filled, fucked-out, and loved. “God, yes, Nick,” he gasped, redoubling his efforts.
Nick’s shoulder worked, the muscles rippling. “I’m… fuck!”
“Yes, baby,” Charlie got out, brain melting in the heat of the moment, in the lust, in the love. “Want you to…want you to feel so good…”
The sound Nick made as he finished was the most beautiful Charlie had ever heard. He gasped and bucked against Charlie’s body, tightening and releasing and quaking around his dick. All of it was so much – so much, and Charlie clutched Nick’s shoulder.
“I’m so close…do you want me to pull out?”
“No,” Nick said immediately, gripping Charlie as if terrified he might pull away. “Stay… stay in me…”
“Nick!” Charlie gasped as he came, his hips pressing into Nick’s body. He drove forward and let the shivers of his orgasm quake through his body, fed by Nick’s hands reaching back to clutch Charlie even tighter. It felt like ages before he finished, despite the mind-blowing orgasm Nick had given him the night before.
Nick’s head fell to the bed and Charlie wrapped his arms around him, pressing kisses everywhere he could. He could feel the rise and fall of Nick’s back as he caught his breath, and Charlie gently stroked his hands over his perfect, tender boyfriend’s skin. Charlie raised his head sharply when he heard Nick sniffle. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, laughing and sniffling at the same time. “I’m just…” he paused, his voice so warm and physical that Charlie could feel it wrapping around himself. “I’m so amazed by you.”
Charlie had to laugh in amazement, his body relaxing again. “Have you met my boyfriend? He’s the amazing one.” Nick turned and grinned and the movement made Charlie wince. “I… sensitive. I need to…”
“Oh, yeah…”
Charlie pulled out carefully, knowing from experience how it felt to be treated after sex. He kissed Nick on the shoulder before getting a washcloth and slowly cleaning him up, cleaning off his stomach and thighs. Nick let out a soft murmur as he did and Charlie took his time, kissing his boyfriend’s body with the care and attention he deserved before excusing himself to the bathroom. When he came back in, he grinned to see Nick very much on his side of the bed, though there was a little space for Charlie. Charlie laughed and got into “his” side, rolling to face Nick. Both of them were grinning madly, and they spoke at almost the same time.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
There was a brief pause before they both burst into laughter, grabbing onto one another. Charlie was loose and light, perhaps the most he had ever felt. He was entirely released and unrestricted. It was as if the weight of his past experiences had pulled on him and kept him from truly rising and living in his experiences. He had always been caught just a bit below the water, dragged down by the anchors of his past. Now, all of that heaviness was cut away. Now, Charlie was weightless.
It took a bit for them to settle, but they finally did. Charlie reached out to touch Nick’s face. “How do you feel?”
“Incredible,” Nick grinned at him, then considered. “I mean, like – maybe a little sore? But, like - almost in the way after a match. Where I’m totally spent but feel on top of the world.”
“Well,” Charlie said, already disappointed in himself. “You did score.”
Nick beamed at him. “Was that a sex pun, Charlie Spring?!”
“No!” Charlie protested, trying to escape. Nick caught him. “That was…”
“Charlie Spring – making a f-arse out of sex.”
“Oh, my god, Nick.”
“Aw, Char. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you’re the butt of my jokes.”
“I am never having sex with you again. Or ever.”
“Do you find these types of jokes boring? Even… b-anal?”
Charlie groaned and Nick laughed as he pulled them together. They both grinned at one another and then Nick tucked a strand of Charlie’s hair behind his ear. “How do you feel, Char?”
“I feel…” he stopped, not sure how to express just how beautiful the world felt, even if it was just for this second. “I feel like I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend. That I can’t believe we did that.”
“Did you…” Nick paused. “Did you like topping?”
Charlie nodded, remembering that feeling of power, that he could give Nick such intense pleasure. Though, then again, there’d be that power in any experience they had. “I did,” he said, looking up at Nick. “I still – I really want you to top me, too. But that was…” Charlie looked at his giving, open, gorgeous boyfriend. “I like that we did that.”
“I did, too,” said Nick, pulling them close and snuggling against his neck. “And Char…”
“Yeah?”
“I want to do that to you, too.”
Charlie murmured happily and settled into Nick’s arms. Who was doing what to who – it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter with Nick. Nick – he was all that mattered.
Notes:
Spouse and I took a cooking class about a year ago and I make this Baba Ghanoush from it fairly often!
Ingredients
2 medium eggplants
¼ cup tahini
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil + more for serving
3 garlic cloves
1.5-2 teaspoon salt
¼ tsp of smoked paprika + more for serving
Pinch of red pepper flakes, optional
Finely chopped parsley, for garnishPreheat the oven to 400 F. Rinse and dry the eggplants, then cut off the stem. Wrap in foil. Roast them on a sheet pan for 1 hour, or until very tender. Carefully open foil and slice the eggplants in half, make requisite dick jokes as needed. Allow to cool until it can easily be touched. Peel off the skin, then discard. Allow the excess liquid to drain off of the eggplants. In a food processor puree the eggplant and the remaining ingredients (except parsley) until very smooth. Top with extra olive oil and chopped parsley.
The schedule of updates to come!
19 September: Danny & James, Chapter 17
26 September: Lavender Fields, Epilogue 26 ("Charlie's POV: Apart")
3 October: Danny & James, Chapter 18
10 October: Lavender Fields, Epilogue 27 ("Charlie's POV: There")
17 October: Danny & James, Chapter 19
24 October: Lavender Fields, Epilogue 28 ("Charlie's POV: More")
31 October: Danny & James, Chapter 20
7 November: Lavender Fields, Epilogue 29 ("Charlie's POV: Forever")
Chapter 57: Charlie's POV: Apart
Summary:
Nick and Charlie wrap their weekend in Clevedon and then head back to Lavender Fields. They run into a familiar face (to some) at the local music shop before two phone calls change everything.
Notes:
The song referenced in this chapter is called Alchemy by Johnnyswim and is absolutely gorgeous. It’s almost as beautiful as Waveofyou’s butt. But not quite.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hnnnnnkkkkk.
Hhhhnnnkukkkkkk.
Hfffnfkkkkkk.
Charlie slowly opened his eyes, pulled disoriented out of his dream by the rhythmic, persistent sound. He smiled when he saw those sounds were emanating from a large, sleeping, heavily-shagged-out man named Nick Nelson. Nick was on his back, looking dead to the world. He wasn’t quite snoring, but the angle of his head was making it so he let out a loud, breathy noise with every exhale. Charlie sighed happily and nuzzled his cheek against Nick’s broad chest before drawing back and taking in the gorgeous sight in front of him. Nick’s arms were splayed out like a bisexual, prone, super-fit Jesus and he didn’t look like he was even close to waking up.
Charlie grinned once again and slowly eased himself out of bed, though he needn’t have bothered with how deeply Nick was sleeping. He quietly pulled on some clothes and went to the kitchen in the cottage, all of the cells in his body loudly clamouring for coffee. Charlie started the pot and pulled out the things for Nick’s tea as well. He hummed quietly to himself as he moved around the bright space, pulling out the few groceries that he and Nick had purchased the day before. All he wanted to do today was take care of Nick.
His Nick.
Charlie’s stomach flipped in quivering, delighted memory as he thought about last night. He moved dreamily about the kitchen, preparing ingredients for omelettes and starting the bacon in a pan. As the meat sizzled and popped, Charlie closed his eyes and let himself go back to the nerve-crackling moments of the night before.
Charlie on top of Nick, chest pressed against Nick’s back as he rocked his hips forward and in.
Nick and the way his voice spilled out of his throat in pleasured, aching moans with every stroke.
The feeling of Nick fully around Charlie and the silken, perfect warmth that –
“Char?”
Charlie jolted when he heard Nick call from the bedroom. He blushed, even though he was alone. He consciously uncurled his fingers from where they had been clenched in a fist, his whole body re-tightening as the waves of the literal best memory of his life washed over him. He took a slow inhale and then exhaled in a chuff of laughter, physically shaking his body to bring himself back in the moment. God, last night was hot. It was truly the hottest moment of his life so far and the best part was – it wasn’t just a memory. Charlie and Nick were boyfriends, and sometimes, boyfriends had sex.
Oh, Charlie wanted to have more sex with his boyfriend.
He poured a cup of coffee for Nick, knowing that sometimes, Nick liked a half cup before he had his tea. He carried it into the bedroom and placed it on the table next to Nick, then kissed him on the forehead. “Hey, baby.”
It didn’t escape Charlie how a grin stole over Nick’s face, lips curling up at the pet name. Nick liked that, Charlie realised. He liked being called baby a lot. Charlie ran his fingers in Nick’s hair and relished the soft murmurs that his boyfriend let out.
“What are you doing awake so early?” Nick asked, eyes still closed.
Charlie moved onto the bed, Nick’s eyes flying open as Charlie clambered on top of him, clothed hips on naked ones. That was unreasonable. No hips should ever be clothed around Nick. “Today,” he said in a faux-haughty tone. “I am playing the role of one Nicholas Nelson.”
Nick raised an eyebrow and smirked. “So you’re going to tell amazing jokes?”
Charlie shook his head in concern, looking at the poor, confused boy underneath him. “I think you might have the rarely-diagnosed ‘woefully wrong adjective insertion’ disorder, Nick. ‘Amazing’?”
“Incredible? Hilarious? Life-altering? Giant turn-on?”
Charlie clucked and felt Nick’s forehead. “Nope, you’re still infected.” Nick laughed and Charlie grinned, giving a firm roll of his hips against Nick’s. “No, I am playing the role of innkeeper and making you breakfast today. Think of this as your bed and breakfast, just for you.”
Nick nodded, pretending to look thoughtful. “Mm. I’ve never straddled my guests in the morning. Clearly I’ve been a terrible innkeeper.” Charlie laughed and they met in a kiss, the softness of their lips offsetting the hardness of other things. Nick pressed his hips up against Charlie and it was clear that something besides the sun was rising. “You did say ‘insertion disorder’,” Nick said innocently, eyes wide. “I do feel like I have that disorder, Char.”
Charlie snorted and slid off of Nick so they were laying side by side. “You’re insatiable, rugby king Nelson.”
“I am,” Nick growled in a flirty, lupine voice that sent a shiver down Charlie’s spine. He bounced his eyebrows. “What do you say to a round two before we eat?”
“For you again?” Charlie asked, surprised. “Aren’t you sore?”
Nick gave a funny little shimmy as though he was testing the proverbial rectal waters. “Not too sore,” he said with a grin.
Charlie arched a brow and twisted his spine to pop his arse out a bit. “Isn’t it my turn?”
Nick let out a desperate little sound and Charlie grinned. Then Nick tilted his head and looked at Charlie with a pouty, adorable expression. “But I’m already semi-warmed up from last night. Efficiency, Charlie!”
Charlie let his head fall back to the bed, laughing. “Ugh, you business owners are always the same. Always trying to cut corners!” He was cut off when Nick pulled him back into his arms, bodies tucked close against one another. Charlie thought for a moment about protesting that it really was his turn, but Nick did have a point. For Charlie to get ready, there would be a bit of a delay, and neither of their bathing suit areas seemed particularly keen for anything that stood between bringing their areas together. The only thing hotter than Nick’s body writhing against his was the bacon, which Charlie realised only a moment too late. It hadn’t mattered – they were able to both satisfy their hunger differently first, agreeing that needing to go out for breakfast was a small price to pay for the way the morning had gone.
-
Charlie was both sad and eager to head back to Lavender Fields. He knew that Clevedon would always hold a special place in his heart (and pants), but it was deeply comforting to know that they were headed back to the inn. On his previous trips to Lavender Fields, Charlie always had a tiny twinge of anxiety, not knowing when the “woodworm problem” would resolve and when he would leave forever. This time, they were driving towards a place that was home, at least for the foreseeable future. Charlie and Nick would be staying – living together – entirely by choice. Yes, Nick had to go back to Leeds that summer and Charlie needed to spend two days a week in London, but none of that mattered. They had this. They had now.
The car trip back was an extension of their experience on their trip, a bubble of joy and fun and lust. Nick demonstrated an astonishing knowledge of Broadway music, though he sometimes did need to pull up lyrics to be able to sing along with Charlie. They sang, talked, laughed, and sat in comfortable silence as they drove, stopping a few times along the way for petrol, or even just to take in a sight. Charlie melted every time Nick reached for him, whether it was to take his hand in the car or wrap himself around Charlie when they got out of the car. Nick was… well, the best word almost seemed to be ‘insatiable’. Not sexually (though that was probably true, too, based on how eagerly attentive Nick had been over the weekend), but in terms of his attentions on and from Charlie. Nick was so responsive and sexy and open.
The raw frankness of how Nick felt for Charlie was now blindingly obvious, and Charlie marvelled at how much he could have missed when he was mired in his own anxieties. Over the last few months, pieces of Charlie had shifted and rearranged, though it has been a slow process. It was as though the edges of himself had been jagged and caught, and it took Nick’s words and actions smoothing them over and over so they could slide and adjust more easily. Now, those layers of rocky protection and worry had fallen away and here was the core of Charlie, just existing. Living. Loving.
About twenty minutes from Lavender Fields Nick and Charlie stopped at the shop to pick up some essentials for the week, including plenty of fresh produce. Guests would be arriving the same afternoon, and they pulled up to the house with only a few hours left to spare. Their morning activities, though incredible, had delayed their planned arrival time.
Nick greeted the caretakers and went to chat with them quickly as Charlie took some of the groceries into the house. He waved at the family as they departed, the little girl ghost Jenny waving broadly and smiling at him in what was either an adorable or premonitory way.
Nick snorted and leaned against Charlie, nudging his hand. “She’s not a vampire, you know.”
Charlie looked down at where he’d unintentionally been clutching a bulb of garlic. He laughed and gave a little shiver. “I know. Just being silly.”
“You are silly,” Nick said fondly, rubbing Charlie’s back. “She’s not a vampire. She’s just a normal girl who’s going to crab-walk backwards across our ceiling tonight as soon as you close your eyes.”
“Nick!” Charlie gasp-shrieked, seizing the garlic once again.
Nick laughed and they went into the house, both giggling as they described in emphatic detail why the other one would be the more delicious option for Jenny to eat when she inevitably eviscerated them that evening. The afternoon passed in a happy blur, a mixture of preparing for guests and spending time with Nellie and Henry, who were delighted that they had returned.
The guests arrived a few hours later, and Nick and Charlie fell into roles that seemed entirely natural. Nick cooked a welcome treat and prepared for the next morning while Charlie chatted with guests and showed them around the house. It was similar to how it had felt before they’d gone on their trip, but now, they were boyfriends. They were partners. There was no guessing or wondering about if Charlie was coming on too strong, just certainty and comfort. With that surety, Charlie had no anxieties about overstepping or what Nick might think if he was too familiar. Nick never made him wonder, and Charlie knew that if there was anything they needed to talk about, they would.
They fell into bed exhausted that night, and Wednesday was a haze of guests, work, snuggling, and another early collapse into bed. Coming back into work from four days off was both exhausting and horrific, and Charlie once again rued the first person who decided that humans had to exchange labour for material wealth. While both Nick and Charlie wanted to do more things to and with each other’s genitals, they were still feeling the effects of their trip and the return to real life.
They enjoyed a respite on Thursday, when Nick’s mum Sarah arrived. Charlie loved seeing how Nick’s face lit up when Sarah messaged that she was on her way, and he had an astonishing moment when he realised that it might be the way that Nick looked when Charlie messaged him, too. Nick had moved his and Charlie’s things into the sex room – rather, the room where Danny and James usually stayed. Charlie just happened to think of it as the sex room. He could feel the portrait person’s eyes on them, disapproving of his and Nick’s naughty lunchtime shenanigans that they snuck in during a break from work and before Sarah arrived. It may have just been hand and mouth things, but it was still one of the most pleasing work breaks Charlie had ever enjoyed.
When Sarah got to Lavender Fields, she said nothing of the fact that Nick and Charlie were sharing a room, though Charlie caught her beaming at the two of them often. With all three of them at the inn again, the work was light, especially as Sarah took over most of the cooking. Charlie saw Nick hovering at first, then relaxing into his “demotion” from lead cook to sous chef. Dinners with Nick and his mum were lovely and easy, nothing like the stiff meals that Charlie had endured with the parents of past boyfriends.
The days slipped by like a soft whisper, and before he knew it, Charlie woke up in Nick’s arms on Sunday.
“Mmmrmm – no,” Nick grumped as Charlie tried to get out of bed.
Charlie laughed and tried to pull away as Nick clutched at one of his arms with both hands. “I have to pee!”
“Pee on your own time,” Nick mumbled, eyes still closed. “This is Nick-gets-to-cuddle time and I paid good money for the privilege.”
“Good money,” Charlie repeated. “I haven’t seen a cent yet, and I have put out plenty of times.”
“I’ll Venmo it to you soon,” Nick murmured, a smile playing at his lips.
Charlie giggled and pulled away, though he felt a little heaviness tugging at his chest. It was Sunday. He had to leave Lavender Fields for the week and return to London, the first time he’d sleep away from Nick for nearly two weeks. That sadness was easily mitigated by the fact that Charlie would be back in just two days, but still – Charlie didn’t want this to end. The two weeks straight with Nick had been a blissful stretch of experiencing just how good and soft life could be.
That afternoon, all three of them headed into town, the truck loaded up with lavender-filled goods that Nick and Sarah would take to vendors around town. “Mum and I are going to do the drop-offs,” Nick said, smiling at Charlie as they pulled into a spot. “Want to join?”
“I’m going to pop into a few places,” Charlie replied, smiling back.
Nick raised an eyebrow. “You’re just trying to scout people for ‘Your team/My team’, aren’t you?”
“How dare you, Nick Nelson?” Charlie gasped theatrically. “Accusing me of cheating? You should know that my team is superior to yours not because I sneak around, but because I make good choices.” He tossed his head haughtily and Nick laughed.
Nick slid his hand into Charlie’s for a moment. Charlie looked at the connection, then looked up to see Sarah glance down and smiled privately to herself, turning away. “See you in a bit?” Nick said.
“Yeah,” agreed Charlie, his heart full and warm. “See you in a few.”
He wandered around the main street for a bit, stopping into the corner shop to get a nice bottle of wine to share with Nick and Sarah the following week. Charlie had gotten the idea in his head that he wanted to surprise Nick and his mum with dinner, and he ducked into the store where he and Nick had gone before, the one that had gorgeous fruit shipped in, even in the winter. Charlie had picked a recipe with persimmons after seeing them online, their glowing brightness of the fruit reminding him of Nick and the way he brought such brilliance and colour into his life. Charlie purchased a few of the golden-orange fruits and thanked the store owner before going back into the cold, a smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to surprise Nick. It was so authentically fun to think of things that he and Nick could do together – dinners they could make, drinks they could have. It was so easy to plan things for him and Nick, without strings, hesitations, or worries.
Charlie began to walk back towards the truck, thinking he could help out with the errands when he stopped in his tracks, noticing an awning he hadn’t spotted before. He looked across the street, spying a music shop that he’d somehow missed in his other trips to town. Charlie didn’t actually need anything, but that was no reason to miss the chance to visit. He took out his phone as he went across the street, texting Nick rapidly with how cold the air was against his bare hand.
cfspring: hi!
cfspring: i’m nearly done, too, just got to the music shop
cfspring: i had no idea there was one here!
cfspring: me rn 🥰😍🤩
Charlie locked his phone and stowed it in his pocket. The bell tinkled as Charlie entered the shop, sighing happily in the same way as when he walked into a good, well-loved library. He only had time to glance around when a man in his mid to late 50s came over, a friendly expression on his face.
“Can I help you?”
“Just browsing,” Charlie replied, glancing around. He tilted his head when he spotted a flash of brilliant, cerulean blue that seemed similar to the drums at Lavender Fields though without the starburst pattern of that set.
“Are you a musician?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Charlie said with a smile, shaking off his confusion. “Just the drums, though, I don’t play anything else.”
“I’m a drummer myself,” the man said, extending a hand. “The name’s Mike.”
“Charlie,” Charlie replied, peering over at the drums again.
“We don’t get a lot of drummers in here,” Mike remarked. “I’m always thrilled when we do. You know, we had a gorgeous set that we delivered recently. I was almost sad to see them go, so I actually ordered another set, just to have them here.”
Charlie chuckled along with Mike, though he was distracted. “Which set?” he asked.
Mike gestured vaguely at the blue set that had caught Charlie’s eye from across the shop. “Similar to those, though to be honest, I liked the first ones better. A truly spectacular set. Never thought we’d part with that particular piece with how expensive they are, though!”
Charlie pressed his lips together, his thoughts moving too quickly to settle on any coherence considerations. “So someone around here bought them?”
“Yes, we actually delivered them to a place nearby.” Mike said easily. “Gorgeous things they are.” He looked over at Charlie. “Do you live locally?”
“I’ve been staying around here for a bit, yeah,” Charlie replied. “Over at Lavender Fields?”
Mike furrowed his brow. “Lavender Fields? So they’re yours?”
Charlie blinked. “What are mine?”
“The drums?”
“Which drums?” Charlie heard the tinkle of the bell as the door to the shop opened.
Mike looked utterly baffled, like Charlie was deliberately lying to him and he had no idea why. “... You said you’re staying at Lavender Fields, yes? The place over on Newbury road?”
“Yes…” Now Charlie was the one confused. He just said that, hadn’t he?
“I could have sworn we came by a few months ago to deliver–”
“The drumsticks for the set I found and you helped me restore?!”
Charlie jumped and swore, and both he and Mike whipping around to see Nick bolting towards the two of them, his hair flopping into his eyes as he bulled his way over.
“Nick?” Charlie asked, astonished and amused at Nick’s dishevelled appearance. He reached a hand over to smooth Nick’s hair back out of his eyes as he grasped Charlie’s arm to steady himself. “All right?”
Nick wheezed and shook his head, staring at Mike. “IS THAT WHAT YOU MEANT, MIKE?”
Mike stepped back, his eyes swivelling nervously between Nick and Charlie. “Yes,” he said hesitantly. “That is what I meant.”
He began to edge away and Charlie looked at Nick’s flushed cheeks. Nick’s eyes swept around the shop, and Charlie had a sudden stab of realisation.
Oh god.
Oh god.
Was this – wait.
Had Nick – no. No!
The drums – the drums. It was the colour that reminded him of the ones in the barn, and…
Charlie opened his mouth to ask – well, what, he had no idea, but he was interrupted by Mike, his tone entirely new.
“Hi,” Mark said breathlessly, looking over Charlie’s shoulder.
Charlie turned to see Sarah standing in the entry, her bag clutched over her shoulder and an expression of amazement lighting up her face. “Hi,” she replied, sounding astonished.
“Sarah,” Mike said incredulously. “I thought – I had thought you weren’t at Lavender Fields any more.”
Charlie nearly squeaked in delight. The way Mike was looking at Sarah – and the way Sarah was looking at Mike.
Oh, they’d fucked. They had totally fucked.
“My son’s been running it for me,” Sarah said to Mike as she waved a vague hand at Nick and stepped closer to the shopkeeper/presumably former shag. “I had no idea you’d moved back.”
“We had a change of plans–”
“It’s so lovely to see you–”
“It’s wonderful to see you–”
Charlie swallowed back a giggle, then had to physically bite the inside of his mouth when he looked round and saw Nick, his face a thundercloud of confusion and abject sadness. Charlie went to stand next to his boyfriend and nudged him on the shoulder, affecting a casual tone. “Seems like they know each other?” He hummed as though in thought. “Reckon they might have ever–”
“I swear to god, Charlie, I will feed you to the portrait people.”
Charlie snorted and let out a shaky exhale in which he poorly disguised a laugh. “Mike… Mark…” he mused. “Sarah seems to know a lot of men with M names that are four letters. Guess she has a type for her… friends.”
Nick glowered at his mother’s lover and not looking away as if in case he did, they might start snogging or fornicating. “May you never find the cool side of a pillow for the rest of your life, Charles Elvira.” Charlie snorted and took Nick’s hand, pulling him slightly away from the 50-something teenagers. Nick glanced unhappily once more at his mother and then looked at Charlie as if he could explain away the Bad Scary Evidence of Maternal Sexuality. “What’s happening?”
Charlie nodded sympathetically. “What’s happening is that your mum knows how to get it, Nick.”
Nick reacted viscerally, shuddering and pulling his forearms into his body. He gave a heavy sigh. “We never thought she was the one who was going to sexile us.”
Charlie laughed loudly, then tried (unsuccessfully) to turn it into a cough. Devastatingly, the sound alerted Sarah and Mike to the presence of other people and they turned around before their inevitable movie kiss.
Sarah blushed. “Well. It’s lovely to see you, Mikey.”
“Mikey,” Charlie mouthed to Nick, who was now fully the ☹️ emoji.
“It’s truly wonderful to see you, Sarah,” Mikey replied, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll, uh…”
“We’ll be seeing you!” Nick half-bellowed, taking Charlie and his mum by the elbow and steering them out of the shop.
The car ride was quiet, Sarah eventually lapsing into a thoughtful silence where she stared out the window and probably thought about who she wanted to restring her guitar. Charlie kept glancing over at Nick, grinning at the way his mouth made that tight little unhappy shape when reminded that mothers weren’t entirely celibate. Charlie glanced back to ensure that Sarah was occupied before taking Nick’s hand, though Nick just balled up his fingers. Charlie laughed, filled with lightness. There was no worry with this. This was silly Nick energy, not brooding anger. And of course, within a second, Nick huffed out a laugh and laced his fingers with Charlie’s.
They got out and Sarah excused herself when they walked in the door, dreamily saying that she’d be back in a bit. Nick and Charlie watched her go, then Charlie turned to Nick.
“Nick.”
Nick shook his head minutely. “Don’t. I can’t. I can’t, Charlie.” He looked over with haunted eyes and Charlie suppressed a laugh.
“Okay,” Charlie said soothingly. “I won’t. I will say nothing about how your mum is going to go write in her diary about the cutest boy in the whole music shop who hit on her today.” I also won’t say anything about the drums in the shop that looked suspiciously like the ones you ‘found’ in the barn. I won’t say anything about that even though it makes me want to make a sound like a kettle as I spin around the room in happy little overwhelmed circles.
Nick looked over with desperate eyes. “Charlieeeee!” Charlie laughed and tugged Nick in for a hug. Nick settled into his arms and sighed. “You have to promise not to bully me any more. I am a sensitive boy and very delicate.”
Charlie snorted and they swayed there for a moment before separating. Nick took Charlie’s hand and they went inside together, laughing and talking as they prepared dinner. Charlie looked over several times as they cooked and talked together, his heart glowing. What if those drums had been the ones that Nick “found”? That would have meant that when Charlie was in London, Nick would have driven to the town, purchased an 8,000 quid set of drums, and then brought them to the barn. It also meant that Nick had gone to the trouble of pretending that the drums just happened to be in the barn, an old abandoned instrument he’d fortuitously discovered. Charlie had to guess that the drums were perfect when they were brought over from the shop… if that was what in fact had happened. If they were perfect and brand new, that meant that Nick would have had to intentionally scuff them up so that they would look older.
Charlie's stomach seized in giddy delight as he considered what that meant. That would have meant that Nick had been thinking about Charlie long before Charlie realised it. He almost laughed aloud in the kitchen when he imagined a harried Nick, rolling drums back and forth across the floorboards to make them look more aged. He settled his racing, exhilarated heart by immediately breaking his promise to Nick and making lots of inappropriate sexual jokes about his mother. Nick gave back as good as he got, at one point rubbing a can of corn on his arm and proclaiming that the recipe said to “Char the corn”.
Just before everything was ready, Charlie stood back and leaned in the kitchen doorway as Nick pulled out the last dish from the oven. He sat it down and smiled proudly. Charlie's heart twinged and he felt a surge of soft, gentle love for Nick wash over him. Nick was just so kind. He was kind and caring and did so many things for the people he loved. Some of the silliness that he had picturing Nick rolling drums across the floor washed away, replaced by a sense of limitless fondness for the incredible person his boyfriend was.
Charlie loved Nick so, so much.
He quietly moved behind Nick and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. Nick made a soft, happy sound and reached his arms backwards to pull Charlie closer. “Hey, you,” he said softly. “What’s this for?”
“Just appreciating my boyfriend,” Charlie murmured. Appreciating. Adoring. Loving. He took a breath in, unable to contain himself. “Hey Nick?”
“Yeah, Char?”
“I saw the oddest thing in the music shop today.”
Nick’s torso tensed under Charlie’s hands, but he made a game attempt to keep his voice level. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Charlie replied, trying hard to keep the smile out of his voice. It wasn’t working.
Nick nodded, his auburn head bobbing in front of Charlie. “Was it a glockenspiel? I feel like those are odd, aren’t they? What a weird word, too. So German, am I right? Glockenspiel… where does that come from, do you think? ‘Glock’ must be from the German ‘keyboard thingie’ and ‘enspiel’-”
“Nick,” Charlie said quietly, now openly grinning. He didn’t want to embarrass Nick, but this was too delicious. It was also the cutest fucking thing ever that had happened to Charlie and made him even more desperately in love with his boyfriend. “I saw a drum set nearly the same colour as the one in the barn.”
Nick made a strangled sound, then covered it up with a strange mix between a yelp and a cough. “That’s… weird,” he said, clearing his throat. “Mike must like that colour. Maybe he refinished our set with the same colour when I had him fix it up.”
Charlie pressed his lips together. Nick had a shovel and he was digging. “You never told me Mike fixed it up?”
Nick stiffened again. “I didn’t? I must have forgotten. Yeah, he delivered the drumsticks and stuff and then fixed it up and–”
“Nick.”
Charlie touched Nick on the shoulder and Nick turned around so that they were facing one another. Charlie snuggled closer and lay his head on Nick’s broad chest. “I love that drumset,” he said quietly, wanting Nick to know how much it meant to him. “And regardless of how you got it, uh, fixed up… it was one of the first things that made me think that maybe you might not be as dismayingly straight as I thought you were.” It was true. That had been one of the pebbles that pinged against the window of Charlie’s brain. He’d rebuffed them all for so long, explaining away that Nick was nice or that he was making things up in his own mind, but the ‘drum’ pebble had been the first to finally crack the glass.
Nick snorted. “You and me both, Springtime.” He hesitated, and Charlie wondered if he was about to get the real story. “When I was – when Mike and I were fixing it up to get it ready for you,” Nick said doggedly, and Charlie suppressed a grin. “When we did that, I was thinking of you the whole time. I was thinking of how happy it might make you, and how much I wanted to see you happy. Eventually, I realised that maybe it wasn’t so straight to think of your platonic bro mate pal’s smile. And eyes. And hands.”
Charlie’s heart had been swelling the whole time Nick was speaking, feeling an odd sense of fondness for his own two-month-ago self. He was distracted by the final part of what Nick said, though. “My hands?”
Nick took one of Charlie's hands, smiling before he gently kissed it. Charlie couldn't look away from the sexy curve of his lips. “Yes. God, your hands, Charlie… you have the most gorgeous hands.”
Charlie had to remind himself that Nick's mother was one room over and was very likely to pop up at any moment to keep himself from springing a C. Spring erection. “Just in looks?” he asked, raising his lips to just brush Nick’s. “Or in what they can do?”
“Charles,” Nick said in a scolding tone, though it was belied by the way his fingers twitched into Charlie’s back. “Are you flirting with me? In this kitchen, with guests and my mum in the house? And in this economy?!”
Charlie laughed and then pressed a quick, soft kiss to Nick's mouth. “Fine. I’ll save it for later, when we’re in the room. Gotta give you something to remember me by for the two upcoming long, lonely nights in London.” He squeezed Nick's bum as though punctuating one cheek for each night. “That’s funny about the drums – that they were such a big piece for both of us.” Charlie looked at his boyfriend, suddenly desperate to tell him how he felt. Charlie wanted to tell Nick that he was in love with him. Charlie wanted to tell Nick that his world got brighter the moment Nick entered it. He wanted to tell Nick that he literally couldn't imagine a day without Nick in it. That seemed entirely overwhelming, though, and instead, Charlie chose violence. “It’s a nice memory for us, and for you and Mike, too. It’s nice that you and your future stepfather already have a bond.”
Nick bleated in protest and then pretended to cry. They both laughed, and Charlie settled his racing heart lest that Sarah came in. He didn't know where that sudden urge had come from but God, it was strong. The desire to tell Nick how he felt nearly burst out of his chest, but Charlie knew that that was abjectly ridiculous. They had quite literally just talked about being boyfriends; there was no rush. They had plenty of time.
-
In theory, Charlie should have gone back to London on Sunday night so that he could go into the office early on Monday. However, the idea of two nights without Nick proved to be so undesirable that Charlie instead woke up at a horrific hour, rising with Nick around five and scurrying out the door after a quick kiss and not nearly enough sexual activity. They'd been able to exchange some quiet handjobs the night before, but Charlie was craving another night like they had had in Clevedon. He wanted a night where he and Nick could totally undo each other, and that’s what he thought about several times on the drive back to London.
Between leaving Nick, ruing the fact that he hadn't gotten to shag his boyfriend in a few days, and the fact that he was back at work, Charlie was already grumpy when he went into the office at 9:00 a.m. The only thing that mitigated his annoyance was the fact that he got to see Anita, who had saved a seat for him at their weekly Monday meeting.
“These meetings are so stupid,” Anita whispered as they waited for the company president to come in. “Literally the definition of ‘this should have been an email’.”
“I know,” Charlie muttered back, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of his chair. “I swear to God, he only does this so that he can just happily deny people days off on Mondays.”
Anita rolled her eyes. “Oh, you should have heard him bitch about you being ‘sick’ last week.” She grinned and winked. “You're lucky I didn't tell him that you weren’t getting sick, you were getting… well, one letter away from that.” Charlie cracked one eye open at her and she giggled, stifling her laughter as the president walked in, looking disapproving. “PS, I need that whole story later.”
Charlie nodded, a dreamy smile on his face. That was a weekend that would live freely in his mind for the rest of his life. He zoned out a bit as the president spoke about the commitments for the week, the vision for the company, the goals for the quarter, and other types of bullshit that had been bulleted out in an email the week before. These meetings were so ungodly stupid. It was largely the president of the company just getting off on hearing his own voice and using every bit of corporate nonsense-speak possible. Because the team wasn't allowed to have any paper or laptops (“distractions”) during the meeting, Charlie and Anita hadn't been able to do a meeting bingo card, but they tried to track things in their mind and then shared them later. Charlie had an open square on his board for use of the word “synergistic.” He got the first burst of energy that he had in the meeting when he heard the word synergy come up. This could be a good meeting. One more square and Anita owed him lunch.
“We realised that we're missing the synergy that exists when people are in office,” Jerry, the president of stupidity, was saying.
“You were close,” Anita muttered quietly into Charlie’s ear. “Maybe Jere-bear will finally deliver something positive for you in this meeting.”
“We've also heard you with the concerns about burnout.” Charlie actually did perk up at this. There had been many of his team members that had been struggling with long hours. Charlie and some of his colleagues had been talking about it for a while, proposing ways that they could reduce the burden on their reports. A lot of them centred around hiring additional support staff and reallocating resources so that they were focused around the people doing the work rather than middle management.
Jerry went on. “We realised that working from home doesn't actually mean that. It means living at work. For many of our valued employees,” Jerry looked around paternally as if he’d read a manual on how to be a real human being with feeling and was attempting to impart the lessons. “This means that they don't have a separation between work and life. We are thrilled to announce that we are making some changes as a company.”
Charlie's heart thumped a little faster in his chest. He and Anita exchange a look, both of their expressions worried.
“Beginning next week, we are a 100% collaborative office. That means all collaboration happens in person, where we can have the synergy that our organisation needs to take our business to the next level.” There was a collective intake of breath in the room and Charlie heard people whispering and turning in their seats as Jerry raised his hands placatingly. “This is a trial for the next month,” he said sanctimoniously. “But I know that just like all of you, I am incredibly eager for the teamwork and collaboration that will happen when people are in office. I–” Jerry scowled as he took in the hands that had raised. “This is unfortunately not a question-answering meeting. This is an information-disseminating meeting. A question-answering meeting will be scheduled on–”
“We’ve planned our lives around remote,” a woman in the editorial department said, others nodding along with her. “We can’t just shift everything right away.”
“Human resources is eager to work with all of you,” Jerry said dismissively. “Both in helping you brainstorm how you are going to shift to in person, or in helping you on an exit plan.” He said the last part with a cold smile, and people in the room slowly lowered their hands, looking startled and astonished. He went on, talking about more nonsense, but Charlie didn't hear any of it.
In office.
Five days a week.
In person or dismissed.
Charlie's head was spinning and he felt ill. He had been wrapped in this beautiful, soft cocoon since the weekend in Leeds. It was as if every hesitation and worry had been finally lifted away from Charlie, and he was soaring. He was lighter than he had ever been, floating in this gorgeous world where he got to be with Nick and not worry about their future or worry about Nick’s desire to be with him or anything like that. He could feel Anita staring between him and Jerry. Charlie didn't look at her. He was worried that if he did, he would burst into tears.
Over. It was over. Danny and Amy couldn’t fix this with woodworms. There was no magical solution that was going to solve this. The beautiful, shimmering dream that Charlie had just been gifted had been snatched away, a cruel claw ripping apart the fragile perfection. There was no choice or workaround. Charlie could spend weekends at Lavender Fields, but that was it. That was it. That was it and it wasn’t close to enough. Now that Charlie had felt the blissful perfection that was spending every moment with Nick, he couldn't imagine the tearing pain of being part-time boyfriends.
Charlie felt his eyes burn with unshed tears and he blinked hard, clenching his hands into fists. The meeting crawled by, followed by several more hours of interminable discussions about logistics and what this was going to look like for Charlie's team. By lunch time, Charlie was nearly beside himself. His hands were trembling and his chest ached as he thundered down the stairs of the office building, not able to wait for the lift. He burst into the cold air and took a deep breath, the frigid temperatures searing into his lungs. In a way, Charlie was grateful for that. It reminded him that the world still existed and hadn’t just ended the way it felt.
With shaking hands, Charlie took out his phone. All he wanted was to talk to the person who made him feel safe. All he wanted was to talk to Nick.
Nick answered on the first ring, and Charlie could immediately hear the worry in his voice. “Char?”
“Hey,” Charlie choked out, suddenly unable to speak. The tears that had been threatening all morning now brimmed, the sound of Nick’s voice almost too much to handle.
Nick sounded half-panicked. “Charlie – are you okay? What’s–”
“It’s the fucking new president,” Charlie managed to get out. “We have this new president at the publishing company and we just had this meeting today. He said he’d disallowing any remote work for anyone – for fucking anyone. He gave all this bullshit about camaraderie and teamwork but it’s all just corporate fucking nonsense because they’re paying for our office rental and I think using this as an excuse to lay off people who won’t come back and…” He broke off, really crying now, holding his phone in one hand and pressing the other against his eyes.
“Oh, god, Char…” Charlie’s heart broke again at the sound of Nick’s voice, a tremulous, hurting thing. He wanted to hold Nick. He wanted Nick to hold him. God, he missed Nick.
“I know,” Charlie sniffled. “He said it’s a ‘trial’ for the next month, so who knows, maybe it’ll change after that, or maybe enough people will protest, but I don’t know…” He didn’t finish the sentence, letting it dangle miserably in the same way Charlie felt he was hanging in the purgatory of the day.
There was a pause and a sense of ancient anxiety began to wrap its long, cold fingers around Charlie’s chest again, making him feel smothered. Nick sighed, and the anxiety tightened its grip on Charlie’s lungs. “I… fuck, Charlie,” Nick said, devastation etched in his voice. “I got some news today, too. Like, just a minute ago.”
Charlie froze, then laughed bitterly. “From your tone it sounds like it was equally good?”
“Yeah – I mean… no? I don’t know.” Nick said, his voice muffled like he was dragging his hand over his face. “One of our coaches, the guy I’m replacing? He had a heart attack over the weekend.”
“Oh my god, is he–”
“He’s okay,” Nick assured Charlie, and Charlie gripped the phone tightly. God, he wanted to touch Nick. He wanted to stroke his hair and tell him it would be okay. He wanted to assure Nick, and protect him from anything bad ever happening. “But Coach Croft needs me to come back. He asked if mum could take care of the inn and said that the team really needs me.”
“I’m so sorry, Nick,” Charlie murmured, his fingers twitching with how badly he wanted to touch Nick and connect their bodies together. “For him, and the team, and you – god, that’s so awful.”
“Thanks, Char,” Nick said, and Charlie had to bite back a cry at the softness of the nickname. “So… yeah. They want me back. If I can manage it.”
This is the way the world ends, Charlie thought dully. Not with a bang but a whimper. “Yeah,” he said, coldness welling in his body like an rising flood. “I guess… I guess in a way this makes it easier for both of us, huh.”
“It… god,” Nick said. Charlie closed his eyes again and leaned against the cold stone of the building. There was no choice, and that made it easier. Charlie had to go back to London. Nick had to go back to Leeds. Neither of them had to leave the other because they were both leaving each other. “I guess… yeah,” Nick repeated, his voice breaking.
“Great start to a Monday, huh?”
Nick laughed softly, though it was empty of his normal light. “It almost makes me miss the woodworms.”
Charlie sniffled out a laugh. “Want to help me put woodworms in the new president’s office?”
“No, we can do better than that,” Nick replied earnestly, a spark of joy in the flat dullness of the new, terrible world. “When Amy’s old boyfriend Caden cheated on her, Seamus and Danny hid prawns in his flat when they moved her stuff out. I want this guy to suffer.”
“Me too,” Charlie said, nearly smiling. Nearly. Even in a dark moment like this, Nick was light. Nick was light, light, light, and Charlie wanted that glow on his skin forever, not to be thrust into the darkness of London and loneliness. “Prawns are good. Maybe we should go with something dairy based for novelty’s sake.”
“Roquefort-crusted tilapia?”
Charlie let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. “You’re good at this.” He sighed. “God, Nick.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to…” Charlie began. He tried to say how much he would miss Nick. He tried to say how every part of his body would ache when they were apart. He tried to pull into words how being with Nick had helped him discover the most brilliant Charlie who’d ever been allowed to shine. Charlie tried to summarise how much he loved Nick. Instead, his voice broke, dissolving under the weight of his devastation.
“I’m going to miss you so much.” Nick’s voice cracked and Charlie cried silently into the phone for a moment, his chest a painful hollow.
“Me too,” Charlie said, then was struck by a sudden, terrifying thought. When Nick said he was going to miss Charlie, did that mean… did he want to… “We’re not going to…?” He stopped, not even able to say it.
There was a pause. “Going to what, Char?” asked Nick, and Charlie thought he heard genuine confusion.
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as if to hide from his own words. “To… break up?”
“No!” Nick burst out, now sounding shocked and scared. “I don’t want… do you want to break up?”
“No, god, definitely not,” Charlie gasped, relief flooding his body for the first time in four hours. As horrible as it would be to do distance, Charlie couldn’t imagine a life where he and Nick chose to cleave themselves from one another, their affection just a memory. He couldn’t imagine what life without Nick was like. He didn’t want to.
Nick’s breath was rapid, as if he was trying to calm himself. “Oh. Good. Okay. God, no. Charlie, I don’t want to break up. My life…” he stopped, and Charlie heard him exhale, long and trembling. “My life is way better because I met you. I mean – if you thought it would be too hard in different places, like, I get that, and I hate the idea of us being apart. But you are the kindest, most thoughtful and caring and amazing person in the whole world. I… I don’t want us to break up, Charlie. I want us to be together. We’ll figure it out.”
Charlie listened to every word, drinking them in. Nick’s beautiful, soul-healing words ended on what sounded like a plea, a desperate assurance that they could figure it out together. They would figure it out together.
“I don’t either, Nick, truly,” Charlie said, pressing the phone against his ear like it could bring him closer to Nick. “I don’t want to break up. You’re right, we’ll figure it out.”
“We won’t break up,” Nick’s voice was firm, as though he could make anything true with the force of his conviction. Charlie nearly believed that he could. “And yeah. We’ll figure this out together, right?”
“I know,” Charlie agreed, his voice low and raspy after the tears. He closed his burning eyes and leaned his head against the wall, needing to confirm it and say it out loud. “We’ll… we’ll do distance, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nick said immediately, his voice underscored with the same surety. “We have matches in London fairly often, there are three teams there.”
Charlie nodded before responding. “That’s good.” It was. They could do this. There were matches in London – Charlie thought he remembered Nick saying that there were three teams in London, which seemed ridiculous at the time but amazing now.
“And maybe… maybe some of the matches closer to London, too, yeah?” Nick was saying.
Charlie pulled his phone away from his ear to pull up a map of the Premiership league to see where the other teams were located. “Northampton isn’t too far.”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed, a tiny modicum of hope in his voice again.
The two of them spoke for Charlie’s entire lunch hour (and then some), and Charlie’s hand was numb by the time he went back inside. They had sketched out a grim plan for the next few weeks, starting with Charlie going back to Lavender Fields the following evening to get his things before going back to London and his wormless flat for good. There were matches planned and Danny’s birthday coming, and Charlie entered dates on his calendar. They could make this work. They were going to make this work. Charlie clung onto that knowledge like a lifeline, knowing that what they had was strong, and that they trusted one another. They would figure it out together.
Together.
-
Charlie got approximately thirteen minutes of work done the following day, a neat pairing for the approximate thirteen minutes of sleep he got. Anita had offered to come over, but Charlie had said he was all right. He was. He was all right. He knew it was going to be a rippingly difficult few days, particularly with the adjustment to living life without Nick. Even though their reunion that evening would be bittersweet, Charlie was comforted by the idea that he’d at least see Nick and get to spend one more night together. They’d get to sleep in each other’s arms one more time at Lavender Fields before their relationship shifted to a new iteration. It was just new, Charlie repeated to himself over and over. It was a new version of them, but it was still them.
When Charlie arrived at Lavender Fields, Nick was waiting. Charlie let the tears flow as he and Nick held each other, standing in the car park for several minutes as they both cried. The tears just started again when Sarah embraced Charlie as well, murmuring soft things about how sorry she was and asking if Charlie wanted her to call the president’s mum. Charlie sniffle-laughed at that and hugged her once more before stepping back, Nick immediately taking his hand and not letting go. There was barely a moment when they didn’t touch, even eating dinner one-handed. Dinner was a quiet affair, no one with much of an appetite for food or words. Charlie pushed the food around on his plate until Sarah took the dishes and quietly told him and Nick that she’d do the washing up.
Charlie and Sarah embraced once more before Nick and Charlie went into the room where they’d been staying. Together, they packed up Charlie’s things, Nick’s large, gentle hands helping fold clothes and place them into Charlie’s bags. Sometimes the two of them folded clothes and sometimes they folded into one another, clutching onto each other’s bodies like it was the last time. And it was. It was the last time Nick and Charlie would live at Lavender Fields like this, no matter what else happened.
Music played softly as they packed, a playlist of Charlie’s. It played as they brought the bags to the car, as they brushed their teeth, and as they lay in bed. Charlie went to turn off the music via his Apple Watch but paused, listening to the words of the song as his breath quivered in his chest.
If all the stars were shaken up
And poured back in the sky
Still think they'd align for us
If all of history and time were rearranged overnight
The books would all still write of us
Charlie sighed and cuddled closer to Nick, which was fairly difficult with how entwined they were. Both of them were completely nude, though neither of them had been interested in more than soft kissing. Charlie tried to soak in the feeling of ensconced, perfect comfort he experienced in Nick’s arms. He would miss this. God, he would miss this so much.
Don’t get me wrong
This ain’t a fairytale
I wouldn’t want it to be
We just belong
It’s chemical
Of course I would find you
Of course you would find me, too
We’re alchemy
He closed his eyes and let the words wash over him. What were the odds? What were the odds that Charlie would have picked this place for his honeymoon? What if Charlie hadn’t come, too mired in devastation to leave London? What if it hadn’t been the one year that Nick was running Lavender Fields? Charlie felt a sudden surge of hope and certainty that he and Nick would find each other in any world. He pressed pause on his watch and the music stopped, the sound of their breathing the only thing in the room. Nick’s breath against Charlie’s was the only thing in the entire world.
Charlie took a trembling breath. “I can’t believe I’m leaving Lavender Fields.” He smiled softly. “I thought I was going to be here for a week.”
Nick’s voice was hoarse. “I know.” He cleared his throat and ran his thumb across Charlie’s eyebrow. “I remember when you got here. I remember seeing you come in and just being, like… awed by you.”
“Awed?” asked Charlie, struggling to open his eyes against Nick’s gentle touch as warm tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“It was…” Nick sighed, but it wasn’t a sigh of Charlie asking too many things or being too much. It was one of Nick’s sighs where he was coming up with the right words, treating every word he gave Charlie with reverence. “I mean, at that point, I assumed I was straight. You came in and I remember thinking how incredibly blue your eyes were. I was so, like, struck by them. And you.” Charlie closed his eyes and traced his fingers up and down Nick’s arm. “That first night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you went to your room. I was worried about you, or, like, worried about how you were doing with everything, but I kept thinking about you, too.”
Charlie listened intently. If this had been any of his old boyfriends, he would have been trying to catalogue and memorise those words, knowing that he might never get them again. With Nick, with communication and kindness given so freely, he could just experience them.
Charlie let out a sniffling half-laugh. “Well, I kept thinking that I was totally fucked. I was coming off of the worst thing I could have ever imagined in terms of my romantic life and then happened to come to the inn with the hottest innkeeper imaginable.”
Nick pressed his cheek against Charlie’s and Charlie could feel the soft tug of his smile. “There were so many moments, Charlie. There were so many moments that I would look at you and just be awed by you. Like… watching you play the drums. Watching you meet my group of friends and just totally fit in. Having you give me shit for my incredible jokes, which is one hundred percent an aspersion on your character and should not have made me as smitten as I was.”
Charlie laughed quietly, then circled back to that adorably golden word. “Smitten?”
“Smitten,” said Nick, the grin clear in his voice. “But I thought it was, like, friendship. Admiration.” He chuckled softly. “Then I realised that most heterosexual lads probably don’t spend that much time staring at their mate’s hands, wanting to hold them.”
Charlie drew his hand down Nick’s arm until their hands were linked together. He squeezed Nick’s fingers, wondering if he could press love from his skin into Nick’s. “You wanted to hold my hand?”
“For weeks,” Nick replied, and Charlie’s chest ached at the depth of feeling he heard. “When we finally did - it was like… I had realised already that I was not straight. I’m not even sure if I had fully settled on bi as a label for myself at that point – but when we did, I felt…” Nick stopped for a moment and when he started again, his voice was shaking with emotion. “I felt like I had never felt before in my entire life.”
Charlie’s chest ached with a thousand ways that he loved the man he was with, all of them too overwhelming and soon to say. “Nick,” he said finally, his voice unsteady. “When we kissed… it was like everything I had ever wanted in life. You… I didn’t know that someone like you could exist. Someone so caring and thoughtful and kind and interesting. And fit as fuck.” Nick sniffled, a combined noise of mirth and sadness. “When we kissed, it was like… it was like every single want in my life – every single thing I had hoped for and wanted and dreamed about – it was right there. It was like a dream becoming real all at once.” Charlie took a long, slow breath, thinking about those shaky first few days when he hovered between terror and elation, wondering when Nick would wake up. “I kept waiting for you to realise that you could do better, or–”
Charlie held up a hand to stop Nick from interjecting, wanting Nick to understand how much things had changed for Charlie – because of Nick. “I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like, for me to have to go back or for you to realise that you wanted to explore your sexuality more without being locked down to someone,” Charlie said quietly. “To me. This has been the best month of my life, ever. Even before that, even before we kissed – it’s been the best stretch of my life, ever.”
Charlie reached over and touched Nick’s lips, feeling how soft and full they were. “There’s a lot of reasons behind that,” Charlie continued. “I feel better about myself. I’m taking care of myself and nurturing my relationships with my friends even better than I was when I was in London, when I was with Ben. There’s a lot of reasons,” he said again. “But Nick…” Charlie cut himself off for a moment, overwhelmed with gratitude, the tears hot in his eyes. “It’s because of you. Even though it’s going to be distance now, I’m so, so grateful we got to have the time here that we did.”
Nick gasped and began to cry in earnest, which dissolved the last strings of Charlie’s control. He and Nick clutched at one another, their bodies tangled as their tears flowed. It was several minutes until Nick spoke again. “I am, too,” Nick finally got out, stroking Charlie’s hair. “I’m so grateful, Charlie.”
Charlie pressed his lips together to try to regain control over himself, but it was nearly impossible. “I don’t want to say goodbye tomorrow.”
“Let’s not say goodbye, then,” Nick said, his voice shaking. “Let’s just say goodnight instead.”
God, Charlie’s chest hurt. His heart hurt. His life hurt. His life, his love. His Nick. “Goodnight, Nick,” he said.
Nick’s voice trembled. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
Charlie wasn’t sure if he slept at all that night, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Nick and his body against Charlie’s. All that mattered was that Charlie had one more night with this man, the man who had taught Charlie how to put himself back together again.
-
The morning was cruel, the muddled grey light only starting to streak the sky when Nick and Charlie readied themselves to go. They took one last visit to the cows together, holding each other tightly while pressed against Nellie’s warm flank. Charlie numbly walked back up the hill with Nick to get his final things before driving away. Driving away forever. He stepped into the kitchen and felt the hot prickle of tears in his eyes when he spotted the leftover, bright orange persimmon on the counter. It was like a beacon of cheerful and naive hope sitting there, the manifestation of his bright life with Nick and their plans. Charlie fought down a howl as he thought about the persimmon staying on the counter, slowly withering and dulling, its brilliance fading like Charlie’s. He moved quickly and snatched it up, placing it in his pocket before going back out to hug Sarah.
Charlie and Sarah embraced for a long time, then stepped aside as she hugged Nick, too. They were all crying as Nick and Charlie held hands and walked to their cars, Sarah clutching at a tissue on the porch.
At the cars, Nick pulled Charlie into his chest and held him close. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
Charlie could barely get the words out. “Me too.” He was almost too numb to cry again. The comfort of knowing that they would be okay was crumbling, crushed under the weight of loneliness. The quiet comfort of knowing that they’d do this together that had filled him last night was a distant memory, fading away like how Lavender Fields would from view.
“I’ll see you in London in a few weekends,” Nick said, raising Charlie’s chin with one finger.
Charlie nodded for a long moment. “Facetime tonight?”
“Yeah,” agreed Nick, bundling Charlie against his chest and then kissing him softly. “Let me know when you get to London.”
“Do the same with Leeds.” There was another moment before they held one another again, pressing each other close like they could stop time itself. Then the magic snapped and they kissed one final time, not enough. It would never be enough.
Charlie got into his car and placed the persimmon on the dash, its brightness a beacon. In an instant, he felt sick, as though instead of bringing along a torch, he was now carrying an albatross — a reminder of what he was losing. He pressed his lips together and backed down the drive, leaving Lavender Fields behind.
Charlie drove with his eyes straight ahead, determinedly not looking back through his mirror at the house growing smaller and smaller. There was a lump in his throat as he approached the turn off Newbury road, the left that would bring him back to London. As he took the turn, the persimmon rolled off the dash. It tumbled and bounced, falling first to the seat and then down to the floorboards. Charlie just caught a last glimpse of its glowing colour before it was swallowed up, light disappearing into darkness.
Notes:
Today’s recipe is for persimmon bread. If you haven’t had a persimmon, the have a taste that I feel like is between an apple and a pumpkin and they’re fantastic in a lot of recipes. Charlie was going to make a simple salad (with champagne vinaigrette and pistachios) with his single persimmon, but if you ever can buy a batch, this recipe is great!
Ingredients
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
1 T vanilla
3 cups pureed persimmons (about 1 ½ pound persimmons - cut off the tops and
10 T unsalted butter, melted
2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups walnut pieces, toasted
1 cup raisinsIn a large mixing bowl or in a standing mixer, whisk together the eggs, sugar and vanilla. Mix in the persimmon puree and the melted butter.
Add the baking soda, salt, and cinnamon and whisk to combine. Mix the flour until just combined – you don’t want to overmix fruit breads like banana breads or they get very stodgy.
Fold in the walnuts and raisins until evenly dispersed and divide the batter between buttered loaf pans. Bake for 45 – 50 min or until a wooden toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool in pans for 10 min then turn out onto a wire rack to cool to room temp.
Don’t like walnuts/raisins? No problem! Just leave them out. But maybe say something nice about their personality so they don't feel slighted.
Chapter 58: Charlie's POV: There
Summary:
Charlie goes back to London and Nick to Leeds. They both pine like an early 20-something’s apartment decor.
Notes:
Oh wavey my depravey and bravey babesy. You are a shimmering lil majestic gemstone and also protected my fragile orchid self by telling me how angsty each episode of Season 3 was (as did Songbird and bi_panic). I love your perfect face and butt!
As per a reader request, heads up that there is a brief mention of edibles!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It hurt. Charlie hurt. Everything hurt – his heart, his body, his skin, his scalp. It all hurt.
Or maybe in a way, it didn’t. Maybe he was just entirely numb and he thought that he should hurt, though nothing could pierce the impenetrable bubble of misery-laced nothingness that wrapped him up.
It was numbness, Charlie realised on that first day after he left Lavender Fields. His phone had been pinging and buzzing endlessly through the work day and after, too, when he went to his flat. “His” flat. It didn’t feel like his. The calls and messages were endless: Amy, Danny, James. Tex, Regan. Somehow Emma, Lunker’s wife, as well as Lunker himself and Annette Wilcox. The communications offering support and asking how he was poured in. Charlie saw them, their words passing over his awareness but not actually burrowing into his heart or brain.
Nick FaceTimed him on Wednesday night, and that was the one thing that made Charlie feel, even just a tiny bit – a tiny flicker of warmth spreading through his chest that reminded him of Lavender Fields. Beyond just the fact that he was talking to Nick, Charlie was immeasurably relieved to receive the call. Nick had said he was going to, and then he had. That fact alone had dissipated some of the fog, reminding Charlie that not everything was mired in a hopeless haze. Nick said he would FaceTime and he did. Nick said he didn’t want to break up, so they wouldn’t. Nick said things, and they were true.
Charlie swiped the call open, Nick’s face filling up his screen. His throat was too tight to respond at first, and he just let his eyes take in Nick’s face as if it could ease the pain of being apart.
“Hi,” Nick said in his gentle, perfect way and it almost broke Charlie’s heart. He missed Nick so fucking much.
“Hi,” Charlie managed to get out. He swallowed. “How was your–”
“How was your drive?” Nick asked at nearly the same time. They both laughed softly and another bittersweet drop travelled down Charlie’s throat, the warmth of their relationship battling the devastation of being apart.
“It was fine,” Charlie said, then paused. “I miss you, though.” The second part was softer, still tinged with the last, unforgotten vestiges of anxiety that lived in his chest.
“I miss you so much, Char.” Nick sounded and looked exhausted, but the authenticity of his voice was still evident through the phone. “I wish we were getting in bed together. I hate not getting to sleep next to you.”
“I do too,” Charlie whispered back. It was just an open admission now, no shame attached, and Nick echoed it throughout the call.
I miss you.
I miss you, too.
I wish you were here.
I wish I was there.
I hope your drive was okay/I hope your day was good/was it busy/were you nervous/who did you get to see/how much of a dick was your boss/how was your supper/what are you doing this week/god I wish we were going to town together on Friday/do you remember that vendor who sold the honey lollipops that you could stir into your tea/I still have one of those/I do too/I miss/I miss you/I miss you/I miss you/did you see that picture of Nellie/yes it was so adorable/I miss you
Their call was short but soul-soothing, the balm Charlie needed on his aching, cracked heart. He lay in the bed in the flat he was renting and scrolled through his phone to look back at his messages with Nick. They ranged from mundane to flirty, and every single one of them shot a bolt through Charlie’s heart, imagining the Charlie of two weeks ago or four days ago. That Charlie was giddy and incredulous to find this man in his life, treasuring each message and taking for granted that he and Nick would have endless time together. That Charlie hadn’t known what lurked in the entryway, ready to rip apart the soft nest that he and Nick had built.
Charlie read through their message thread until he finally lay his phone on the bedside table, eyes bleary and body cold. The messages each read like a bright firework, a starburst of colour and brilliance, even when it was a simple question of asking if Charlie wanted tea one Tuesday afternoon. With Nick and at Lavender Fields, Charlie’s life had been in vibrant hues, as if a television aerial had been turned on for the first time. As he lay in the bed of the flat, Charlie imagined the colours draining out of him, rivulets of radiant hues flowing away, pooling briefly before they ran off the bed and disappeared. He turned to his side and hugged a pillow close, imagining that the cool fabric was Nick’s body. It didn’t work. Charlie was alone, he was cold, and he was back in London where it had all started just over three months ago.
All of his dreams were grey.
-
Work was stupid. It was so stupid. Charlie sulked around the office that week, glaring daggers at a stupid group of his stupid colleagues who were stupid enough to burst out laughing at something like the world hadn’t cracked in half. They were stupid and work was stupid but Jerry, the new president, was the stupidest.
Charlie didn’t want him dead or physically injured (though Danny’s enthusiastic offer to stomp on his testicles was tempting). However, he did increasingly fantasise about Jerry realising that he was the worst person on the planet and then abruptly quitting with an apropos note, something like: I have recently discovered that I am a baby back bitch and do not deserve a paycheque, this job, or the love of any humans or animals. I am going to go home and think about all of the gay sex I interrupted and then purchase the Badgers rugby club and relocated them to London.
In the absence of that, work was truly awful. Charlie had enjoyed his job, but Jerry seemed utterly determined to make it as miserable as possible. Now that they were all back in the office, the days began with a 30-minute “stand-up” meeting, where Jerry monologued about collaboration and the brilliance of the team, blissfully unaware of his own irony. He loved to prattle on about ensuring that teams were not overworked and overscheduled, coupling that missive with additional tasks assigned to each team. At some points, Charlie had to wonder if Jerry was aware of his own idiocy or if he actually had been homeschooled by a pigeon as Danny had suggested. It was even harder that Anita was out of the office on a couple of the days, making the days utterly drag by.
There were rumbles of discontent from Charlie’s colleagues, though everyone had been fairly spooked by Jerry’s thinly veiled threats about “streamlining” and “right-sizing”. Charlie and several of his director colleagues held a series of quiet meetings, considering how to push back as a group. However, they all were aware that pushing back against Jerry could lead to retribution, which no one was eager to bring on.
Charlie scheduled endless plans with friends as soon as he arrived, both for after work and for the upcoming weekends. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be in the flat. The second night Charlie was back in London, he was laying in the bed looking up at the ceiling, a white expanse crossed with thick wooden beams. The beams. That brought a smile to his pained heart. Charlie could just imagine the conversations between Amy and James when everything was happening.
He could see Amy and Danny crowded together in front of a computer, debating with each other what they could say that would make Nick and Charlie have to spend more time together. Charlie pictured James hovering in the background, uncertain as to the ethics but wanting to believe in romance. He grinned into the darkness of his room as he thought of how exasperated Amy must have been with Danny and the way he kept swearing and saying that people were dead. Charlie clutched his pillow and nearly laughed aloud about Evan’s untimely demise before it all came crashing down, the humour and levity shattering and falling around him.
They were all together – Nick and his friends. Their friends, really. That thought surprised Charlie, that he considered them his friends and they seemed to consider him the same. Yet, they were his friends, as evidenced by the calls, messages, emails, and persistent proposals to dangle Jerry upside down by the bollocks and then spin him around rapidly (Danny), to drive down late at night and pick Charlie up for matches (Amy), and to have Jerry swallow coins and then shove his head up his own bumhole so he could finally “see cents” (Tex, surprisingly). Charlie missed them. He missed Nick.
Fuck, Charlie missed Nick so goddamn much.
Charlie had gone to Elle and Tao’s after work on Thursday, moping around their house instead of in his office. Tao was surprisingly patient and accommodating, even allowing Charlie to choose the film they watched that night. The kindness of his gesture was only partially belied by the fact that Tao only let him choose from among a selection he had curated, but it was still nice. Elle seemed to follow Charlie’s lead and didn’t press too hard about anything to do with Nick, though she of course asked about him and how Charlie was doing.
Elle and Tao invited him to stay, but Charlie dragged himself back to the flat Thursday evening before his scheduled call with Nick. He attempted to make the flat feel more like a home by setting up some of the hundreds of pictures he had, but it didn’t make much of a difference, not yet. This wasn’t home. It would be someday, but it wasn’t right now.
Home called later that night, Charlie’s heart leaping as Nick’s name appeared on his screen.
“Hi,” Charlie said, a smile spreading across his face despite the misery in his chest.
“Char,” Nick said by way of greeting, looking at the screen fondly in a way that broke Charlie’s heart. God, he wanted to take Nick in his arms. “How’s it?”
“Oh, you know. Just spinning the wheel of capitalism in an endless cycle of useless labour until we die a death where material and physical wealth holds no meaning. You?”
Nick laughed, a sound that filled up Charlie’s soul even through the phone. “You should give motivational talks to business people.”
Charlie laughed, too, and then pretended he was giving a speech. “Good morning, everyone! Just remember that nothing really matters and everything is made up, so let’s take it easy out there, all right?”
“Anything good happen today?” Nick asked, leaning back on his bed and making Charlie’s throat physically ache with desire to be there with him.
“You called?” Charlie shrugged as Nick snorted. “Oh, god, actually, on a Zoom call today Jerry asked if anyone had anything to add. There was a beat of silence and then someone farted very loudly. Then Jerry came off mute and asked them to repeat themselves, I think he had no clue what was going on.”
Nick shouted out a laugh. “Oh my god, that is amazing!”
Charlie rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. “Yeah, if you’re a twelve-year-old boy.”
“Charlie, if you don’t find farts hilarious then you are just choosing to live in a world with the same amount of farts and less funniness,” Nick admonished.
Charlie giggled, then gazed at his boyfriend, wishing desperately to be sitting next to him. “How’s it going so far?”
Nick nodded as if considering. “It’s… strange. It’s odd in a lot of ways to be in the same place that I was before, but to be doing something different. It’s like I’m going up a familiar staircase, but, like, the carpet has changed to wood or something.”
Charlie could understand that all too well. It was akin to how he felt being back in London. It was where he lived, but it felt as though it had changed, or maybe he had changed. “That’s got to be weird,” he agreed. “Must be nice to not be the one running sprints, though, yeah?”
Nick chuckled. “Yeah, there is a perverse pleasure in making other people do that. Especially Danny.” He launched into a recreation of every way that Danny had given him the middle finger that day, as well as telling him that his freckles made it look ‘like he’d sneezed into a Milo tin’.
“What a dick,” Charlie snickered. He loved Danny.
Nick shrugged sheepishly, grinning. “That part’s nice. It’s truly amazing to be back. I missed it here.” He paused, eyes meeting Charlie’s. “I can’t wait to see you, though.”
Light. Nick was all light.
“Me too,” Charlie replied, heart twinging. “I’m really excited to see you, too. Doesn’t it somehow feel like it’s been forever?”
“It does,” said Nick with a pained-sounding laugh. “It’s like some weird, Charlie-less time warp.” Charlie smiled at that, and Nick returned it. “Everybody is so excited to see you in London in a few weeks. Danny is so excited that you’re coming for the sole reason of celebrating his birthday with no other reason to attend the match or hang out afterward.”
Charlie giggled, some of the lightness that had been stolen from him softly illuminating his body again. He couldn’t wait to see Nick. It was absolutely awful that they had to get through this weekend and the next with two and change work weeks in between, but at least there was something scheduled. It wasn’t the vague, dangled offer of exes past. It was a promise. “Only fifteen days,” Charlie said, thinking of his journal where he’d marked off the squares for each day.
Nick raised an eyebrow in a supremely sexy way. “You counting, Springtime?”
Charlie matched his look with a smirk of his own. “Yeah. Fifteen more days of peace without a single pun to torture me.”
Nick gasped and clutched his chest, pretending to swoon. He then straightened up with a look that Charlie knew hinted of terrible one liners to come. “Well, you know what they call a man who goes over a fortnight without hearing a pun.”
Charlie covered his face. “Please don’t.”
“Too weak.”
“I think I’m going through a tunnel,” Charlie monotoned, flipping his phone onto the duvet. He grinned at the sound of Nick’s muffled laughter through the speaker. Charlie picked the phone back up and caught a fleeting look of something like pain on Nick’s face, though it disappeared quickly.
“So – any plans tomorrow?” asked Nick.
“Dinner with Elle and Tao,” Charlie replied, not ready to think about the long stretch of days ahead of them. Sixteen boxes had seemed small in his journal, but now those unpassed days were an eternity. “Then I think movie night over at their place. Darcy and Tara are coming, too.”
Nick smiled, and it made Charlie’s chest ache. “Tell them I miss them. I wish… I wish I could be there. With them.” Nick looked as directly at Charlie as he could through the phone. “With you.”
Charlie swallowed, throat hurting with the pain of being apart. “I wish that, too.”
Nick glanced over his shoulder at the clock and Charlie tried not to imagine the rippling muscles under his shirt. “If we don’t chat before then, Facetime Sunday after the match?”
“Definitely.” Charlie looked at his boyfriend, trying to imprint the image of his face in his brain to keep him company in his dreams. “Goodnight, Nick.”
“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Nick quietly.
Charlie hung up and let his phone drop to the floor. Goodnight, Charlie. Those were the same, simple words that Nick had repeated every time they shared a bed. Nick would kiss Charlie on the forehead and wrap him in his arms, making Charlie feel safer and more loved than he had in his life. The words were the same, but the feelings were so different. Charlie hugged a pillow to his chest, and let the tears flow down his cheeks.
-
Friday was a bleak day. Normally on Fridays, Charlie and Nick would be headed to town together, singing along to the music in the truck with their fingers holding onto one another’s. Charlie buried himself in the sofa on Friday after work, miserable and alone. He cocooned himself in a blanket, numbly watching Bakeoff and imagining how much better Nick would have made every pastry. When his phone rang and Elle’s name lit up the screen, Charlie nearly silenced it, then sighed. Isolating himself wasn’t going to help anything.
“Hey, Elle.”
“Hi, Charlie. Want to come round ours tonight? Have supper?”
“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll stay in. I’m not feeling up for much.”
“Charlie,” Elle said, a note of concern in her tone.
He sighed. “I literally can’t get off the sofa. I feel, like, exhausted.”
“We’ll come there, then.” Elle’s tone was final, and Charlie knew there was no arguing. Despite himself, Charlie smiled.
“Okay.” He glanced around at the detritus of mourning around him, empty boxes and takeaway containers on all surfaces. “See you in a bit?”
“Absolutely,” Elle affirmed before ringing off.
The realisation that people were coming over kickstarted Charlie into action, and he put on some music as he tidied up. He felt marginally more human an hour later when there was a knock on the door. Charlie opened it and stumbled back when Darcy cheerfully stomped in, shoving a bottle of wine and a crinkly plastic package into his chest.
“Darcy – what? Why? I didn’t know you were coming, too!”
“Of course we came,” Tara added, a basket tucked over the crook of her arm. Elle and Tao followed her in, both carrying bags. “We’re here for you, love.”
“We’re the official Charlie Spring weekend support team,” Darcy declared as she took the plastic package back from Charlie and opened it.
“Weekend?” Charlie repeated as he watched Darcy take one from what he had now figured out was a package of edibles.
“All weekend,” Elle confirmed, smiling and handing Charlie an edible of his own. “Movie tonight. Brunch tomorrow. Then–”
“Human Monopoly!” Darcy burst out, and Charlie looked at her in confusion. “It’s apparently this immersive thing where we get to play person-sized Monopoly. You, like, go in the game in all these different rooms. Tao found it, it’s going to be great.”
Charlie looked over at Tao, who gave an embarrassed half-shrug and a fraction of a smile. “I remember how we used to play it back in school. I thought it might be nice.”
“That does sound nice,” Charlie replied, his chest aching with the kindness of his friends.
“Come on,” Tara said with a smile. “Let’s eat.”
The night ended up a far cry from how it had started. Though Charlie’s heart still hurt with the pain of being away from Nick, the evening brought him back in time in the best kind of way. All of them were stoned and giggly within a few hours, the weed stimulating Charlie’s appetite which had been deadened all week. Between his friends, the drug, and the messages from Nick, he went to bed feeling a small vestige of hope that life could still have some colour in it.
-
The weekend was fun, as well. Brunch was fun and included some of their larger friend group, some of whom hadn’t seen Charlie since the wedding was called off. Without exception, every one of them remarked on how different Charlie seemed, one of them saying that he seemed more alive than he had been before. If they thought this Charlie was more alive, they would have been staggered to see him at Lavender Fields and with Nick by his side.
Mega-sized Monopoly was strange and wonderful at the same time, with costumed characters ushering them from room to room. Charlie and his friends would roll large, 30-cm dice and then have to solve puzzles and collect properties to move from room to room. Saturday night ended with a pub dinner, and then they all called it an evening relatively early.
Charlie had been feeling nearly cheerful on the tube when he left the Monopoly event venue. His lifted spirit carried him to the door on the new flat, where he unlocked the door and left his keys on the counter. He turned on the television and flopped on the couch, flipping through the channels until he saw Titanic was on, immediately switching over as a means to pass the time until the Badgers played.
Charlie smiled at the scene, where Jack and Rose were on the front of the ship. He and Nick had gone to the cliffs not far from Lavender Fields a few weekends before. They had been utterly alone on a frigid winter afternoon, and Charlie took advantage of their privacy by cuddling up close behind Nick and wrapping his arms around Nick’s body. It started sweet, Nick placing his hands on top of Charlie’s and gently rocking back and forth. Then Nick started giggling and extended his arms.
“I’m flying, Charlie! I’m flying!” Nick gasped just like Rose, turning his faux-incredulous face to Charlie and then back at the sea.
Charlie snorted and ran his hands down Nick’s arms to lace their fingers together. “I can’t remember the song that Jack sings on the front of the boat. But I’ll still serenade you.” Charlie paused for a moment, then leaned close to Nick’s ear, making his voice throaty and low. “Baby shark, doo doo da doo doo, baby shark…”
Nick laughed loudly and leaned his head back. Then he turned his neck and they both moved towards one another, mouths reaching until their lips touched. It had been a perfect kiss, a spectacular kiss, and one of their first in public before they had gone to Clevedon.
In the flat, Charlie touched a finger to his lips, almost able to taste the salt, the wind, and Nick himself. In an instant, all the happiness that had filled him up swirled and drained away, leaving only an empty shell behind. Charlie let out a trembling sigh and tucked himself in the corner of the sofa, pulling a blanket tight around himself, imagining that it was Nick tucking him in the way he always did when they watched TV together. His eyes burned with tears as he reflected on the weekend so far. Charlie’d had a good time, truly. He spent time with people he loved and who loved him. Charlie could and would have good days and good times, but without coming home to Nick, there felt as though there was something that would always be missing. A twitch of panic seized his heart as he thought about how long it might be that he and Nick would go on living in this purgatory of being apart, counting down the days until they were connected again, just for it to last a weekend. Then the countdown would start again, a cycle of misery and aching sadness.
I can’t live without you was a phrase that Charlie knew could often be used as a weapon, as a means of manipulation and control. It was physically possible to go on living without a partner or a thing. The heart would beat and the lungs would pull in oxygen and the blood would flow. Charlie could live without Nick. He could.
He just didn’t want to.
-
Sunday was slightly better, brightened by being able to talk to Nick for several hours. Charlie had watched the Badgers game the night before with intense focus, his eyes trained on the sideline whenever it was on screen. The match had helped to pull Charlie out of his funk, truly enjoying watching his fit fucking boyfriend do his job. The few times that Charlie caught a glimpse of the hottest man on Earth on camera, he could see how vibrant Nick looked. It was so clear that Nick loved his job. Charlie wished he had passion like that. He had liked his job in the past, sure, but it never felt like a passion. And especially lately… well, it was at least good to see Nick happy. The Badgers won and Charlie messaged Nick after the match, grinning as he typed.
cfspring: omg! you won! you were amazing!
cfspring: okay to be fair i am not sure what your personal contribution margin was to the victory but i bet it was A LOT
cfspring: so impressed! have fun with the team tonight
Within an hour, Nick messaged back.
LF Nick: 😂😂😂 🥰💜🥰💜😅💜
LF Nick: lol yes it was TOTALLY me
LF Nick: Thanks, Char. I really wish you were here. I want to celebrate with YOU
cfspring: i wish i was too. i miss you
cfspring: but stop messaging me and get to celebrating, you have pints to bin, mate
LF Nick: You did NOT just call me mate!
cfspring: bro? pal? heterosexual man-friend?
LF Nick: Fine, buddy.
LF Nick: Have a good night, friend-o.
LF Nick: I’ll shout at the birds for you, chief.
cfspring: lol chief???
LF Nick: I said what I said.
cfspring: typed, really
LF Nick: 😂😂 You are such a menace 🤩
cfspring: 😂
cfspring: okay go have fun
cfspring: i miss you
LF Nick: Fuck, I miss you so much. I can’t wait to see you.
Charlie smiled at his phone, clutching in both hands. It was so awful to be separated, but Nick did everything he could to not make them feel like they were apart. Instead, Nick was just as open with his words and affection as he was in person. It was like Charlie realised in Clevedon – there was one set of rules with Nick, not an ever-changing litany of expectations.
The next day, they finally got to Facetime. Charlie did a version of pre-drinks in preparation for the call, not wanting to bring any of his miserable, lonely, sad state to a time of talking to Nick. He wanted to be cheerful and make it so that Nick would want to keep FaceTiming with Charlie. Charlie looked through his photos, all of his recent pictures either featuring the cows, Nick, or a combination of the two.
There was one picture in particular that Charlie had looked at for several long moments, right before he called Nick. It was one that he had taken in Clevedon, the morning after Nick had spent hours touching Charlie’s body, making him feel almost worshipped. Nick was laying nude on the bed, golden sunlight streaming in and making him glow. Charlie had asked if he could take a picture and Nick laughingly agreed. Charlie had been so struck by Nick in that moment and how strong and soft he looked, bathed in light and nearly seeming to generate his own. Charlie’s world changed when Nick came into his, and this picture seemed to capture it in a single image.
Without warning, Charlie was nearly overtaken with emotion yet again. He remembered what it felt like to see Nick in that instant. They had a lazy morning and Charlie recalled how the world felt boundless. There was nothing they couldn’t do, see, or anywhere they couldn’t go. He blinked at the sudden sting of tears in his eyes, wondering if they’d ever have a moment like that again. Now, they’d both look forward to the rare weekends when they’d see each other. Those few days would be constricted by jobs, time, and geography. Slow mornings with soft kisses would be rare and always tinged with the knowledge that they only had a few of those together before they were pulled apart again. They’d have to pack things in, attempting to flesh out the fragile bones of their brief time together.
Charlie took a long, shuddering breath, fighting back the urge to howl in despair. It almost felt – well, it nearly felt hopeless. Charlie wanted more than anything to be with Nick, and from what Nick said, did, and acted, Charlie didn’t have doubts that Nick felt anything different. Still, how long could both of them take the agony of their situation? Who would crack first, the weight of the loneliness and tiny, too-small bright spots in the darkness proving too much? Charlie looked up at the ceiling, trying to force the tears back into his eyes. He was about to call Nick. Nick deserved to talk to a happy Charlie, or at least a non-snotty one. If their world was going to be bound tightly, Charlie wouldn’t provide any reasons for Nick to want to cut and run.
In the kitchen, Charlie splashed his face with cold water and took eight long, deep breaths. He checked himself in the mirror and smiled at his reflection, trying to force happiness inside his body. After he was sure that he no longer had any redness in his eyes, Charlie took a long breath and FaceTimed Nick.
Nick’s smile was enormous. “Hey, Char.”
“Hi baby,” said Charlie, the word spilling out. “Congratulations on the match again last night!”
“Thanks,” Nick replied with a smile, setting his phone up. “The team played brilliantly.”
Charlie nodded seriously. “I think the coaching is a big part of that.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nick grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me more about that. How - specifically - do you think the coaching impacted the team’s performance? Again, just a few specific details. You know, to stroke my ego.”
“Oh, I will stroke your, um, ego in London,” Charlie said with a wink, noting that Nick made a tiny, desperate sound that he probably thought Charlie didn’t hear. “Yeah, I think it was clear how the coaching helped when James – when he did the thing with the ball, you know? Without coaching, it would have been, like – just a toss, but with your leadership, it was, like, a pass.”
Nick laughed, the sound rumbling pleasantly in Charlie’s chest. “You are so right. I should have caught that myself as one of the coaches. You should be a commentator.”
Charlie gave a haughty shrug. “I just don’t want to embarrass the old white men who have been doing it for ages. You know how boomers react when they’re shown up by us youths.”
Nick laughed again and they went on chatting for over an hour, their jokes feeling as light and easy as ever. Charlie missed being with Nick, but he was also deeply appreciative that they still had this. The conversation shifted back to the Badgers and Charlie thought of Nick on the sidelines. He had looked so alive and in it, but he suddenly realised that it must have been really different for Nick to not be in the match.
Charlie cleared his throat. “How did it feel to be back with the team for the match? You know, as a coach and not a player this time?”
“It… huh. Good question,” Nick replied, nodding thoughtfully. “I guess I missed playing a bit, but having the time last week with the coaches had already made it feel so different. I think I did the mourning part of not playing when I actually stopped, so this felt like a totally new thing. Like I had mentioned what – Thursday? – it feels similar but different. The match itself felt entirely different. I felt connected to the game in a very new way.”
Charlie nodded, wanting to be there for Nick, despite not being there. “In a bad way, or a good way?”
“A good way,” Nick said. “As a player, I felt responsible for my plays and what I did. Now, as a coach, I feel responsible for all of them. For thinking about how one thing will impact things for everyone. But at the same time, I recognize that I can’t control it all. I need to give them the information and tools that they need, and then they decide what they do with it. I think I kind of like that.”
Charlie’s heart twinged in affection for Nick. He loved that Nick had something he loved so much. “I love hearing how much you love this job, Nick. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
Nick’s eyes momentarily looked watery and he took a moment to respond. “Yeah, the job is… yeah.” He paused. “I truly do love what I’m doing. But I also miss you,” Nick said, his eyes locking on Charlie’s through the screen. “I love doing this, and I miss you so much.”
Charlie nearly broke at that. He hadn’t realised how much he had been holding back, terrified that if he opened up about how much he missed Nick that he’d scare him off. Instead, as always, Nick made it safe. “God, I miss you too,” he said, voice cracking “I miss you, Nick.”
I miss you.
I love you.
I miss getting to love you with my actions, even if I can’t say the words yet.
Nick nodded for a long time before speaking. When he did, his voice was tight with emotion. “I can’t wait to see you in two weekends. I can’t wait to be with you again.”
“I can’t wait, either,” Charlie said softly. He couldn’t. He truly, really could not.
-
The next week felt endless. It was a slog even more so as there was another weekend and another full week before Charlie would see Nick again. Charlie’s skin ached, thinking of how much he thirsted for Nick’s touch. He poured his energy into debasing himself by purchasing a punny card for Nick, one that made a joke about stories as both levels and books in a library. It was stupid and borderline not funny at all, but he knew Nick would love it.
There were a few bright spots in the week. First, the finance and marketing teams had sent around the monthly hot titles list, and Charlie was amazed and delighted to see that Recipes from Lavender Fields was on the list, having sold tremendously well. Marketing was hugely enthusiastic, and Charlie began a thread with one of his colleagues and Sarah, his company even talking about assigning her a marketing representative to build her social media presence. He and Sarah agreed to keep it a secret from Nick and to tell him in person when he and Charlie next saw each other.
The other, incredible bright spot was when Charlie opened the post and received literally the most adorable thing he had ever seen. Nick had made him a hand turkey, tracing his fingers and then recording one thing he adored about Charlie on each finger. These included:
- The way you look first thing in the morning before we’re even had tea
- Your hands
- The way you're incredibly kind to animals (co-signed by Nellie and Henry)
- How stomach-hurtingly funny you are
- Did I mention your hands?
Once he had called Nick laughing, Charlie sat, touching the edge of the paper. Nick had touched that piece of paper. He had held this, written it out, thinking of Charlie. He had mailed it, sending it to Charlie with a stamp. Those moments, those tiny huge things that Nick did, even when they were apart. With every day, Charlie’s love for Nick just swelled and grew, as if the distance just magnified how wonderful his boyfriend was.
By Friday, the happiness of those small moments had worn off. Charlie was facing a long, lonely weekend followed by a long, awful week. Elle and Tao were out of town on Saturday and Sunday, and Darcy and Tara both had to work. Charlie would be alone, and it would be harder with such a long stretch before he saw Nick again.
He was in a foul mood already when he arrived at the office for the weekly meeting. Charlie was surprised when Anita grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a conference room, shutting the door.
“Jesus, Anita,” Charlie murmured, rubbing his arm. “What’s going on?”
Anita glanced out of the conference room window and then looked back at him, turning so that her mouth wasn’t visible from outside the room. “You know that guy your friend Tao knows, Roger?”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, how do you know Roger?”
“Remember Tao’s birthday party last year, when we all met up at the bar?” Charlie nodded. “Well, he and I hit it off – not romantically or anything,” Anita clarified. “But like, professionally. He’s been really interested in getting into publishing, and he just secured some seed funding.” She lowered her voice. “That’s why I’ve been out. I’ve been meeting with him to figure out a plan. I would have told you, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up and get you entangled since he’s friends with your friend, you know?”
Charlie was looking at her, gaping. Slowly, he gathered his wits and shook his head, amazed. “Fuck, Anita! You – this – wow. So, like… are you going to work for him?”
“We’re going to work for him,” Anita said with a wicked grin. “Well, that is, if you want to. I showed him some of your work and showed him the movement of the recipe book and he wants you to head up Editorial.”
Charlie gaped at her again, likely looking entirely like a fish. “He… you – is this, like–”
There was a sharp rap on the window and they both whipped around to see Jerry, scowling and tapping his watch.
“We’ll talk later,” Anita promised. “Want to go see what fresh hell today brings?”
Charlie snorted, and gave a sarcastic oh golly pump of his arm. “Boy do I!”
As it turned out, the fresh hell was both not fresh and was remarkably hellacious. “Great news,” Jerry announced in his smarmy, condescending way. “We’ve decided to purchase Shine Media!”
There was a burst of muttering, and Charlie looked at one another with their eyebrows shooting up their foreheads.
Anita raised her hand, but started to speak before Jerry even acknowledged her. “Do you mean the company that Charlie and I led an analysis on for six months and then recommended that we do not purchase because of their lack of diverse authorship? And the fact that they’ve acquiesced to educational book banning petitions?”
There was a loud upswell of agreement, and Charlie’s jaw was nearly locked with anger and tension.
“They’ve changed their policies,” Jerry said placatingly. “They’ve committed to changing to embrace a new, diverse world.”
“Which is it?” Anita shot back. “They have changed or they will change?”
“Both,” Jerry said maddeningly. “And so we–”
“They have a terrible business model,” Anita interrupted. “Charlie and I estimated that we’d both lose money and isolate our authors, particularly our LGBT authors. Shine is known for their conservatism.”
“And you can be in charge of the outreach to those authors,” Jerry replied dismissively. “Problem solved. Now, we–”
“Absolutely not,” Charlie said, finally wrenching his jaw open. “I am not on board to be your mouthpiece.”
Jerry looked at him with barely-disguised annoyance. “You will do what your job duties require.”
“You know what?” Charlie spat back, his misery-fueled rage lighting up. “I will not.” He stormed out of the conference room with Jerry shouting behind him, grabbing his rucksack. He immediately messaged Elle and Tao, hoping they were free.
cfspring: shit day at work. either of you free at all this afternoon?
ElleYes: I’m free, yeah. Are you okay?
HowNowTaoCow: yep, I can be free in an hour. Meet at our place at noon?
They ended up going to Kew Gardens, picking up takeaway sandwiches on the way and eating them once they got to the park. Elle had insisted that they get outside, firmly saying that Charlie needed some sunshine on the unseasonably warm day. On the tube to the park, Charlie told Elle and Tao about his day, both of them making angry, indignant sounds at the impressively stupid changes Jerry was implementing.
“So, wait – did you quit?” Tao asked, once he had calmed down from his truly impressive rant about a corporate nanny state that probably wished they could “schedule and time everyone’s shits for maximum productivity”.
“Not really?” Charlie said, considering exactly what it felt like. “I just – I just kind of, like, stormed out. And Jerry already emailed me saying that he’s ‘forgiven’ my temper tantrum and assumed I must be under some stress.”
“Do you want to go back?” Tao demanded, eyes already widening in anticipatory horror.
“No,” Charlie replied immediately. “But, like – I have to.”
“Do you?” Elle asked. “What about the thing with Anita?”
“Yeah, but that’s not a sure thing…” Charlie said, having mulled over the same thing in the last few hours after the blow-up. He’d wanted to immediately call Nick and process through all of it, but he’d resisted. It was the day before a match for Nick, and Charlie didn’t want to do anything that would knock him out of any pre-sport preparation he might do.
“Neither is any job,” Elle said with a shrug. “Whenever the white man that your job is to make richer decides to, you could be out before you know it.”
Charlie paused and blinked, then nodded thoughtfully. That – well, he supposed that was true. He was still pondering that as they entered the park and walked around. It was pretty, though most everything was still dull greens and muted browns. There was no burst of vibrant colour, not like there would be in a few months. It felt as though the whole park was waiting for something to happen, something to make it seem alive again.
Tao and Elle talked as they made their way around, the park pleasantly quiet with it being a working day. Charlie stayed quiet, still processing both the day and the conversation that he and Elle had the night before while Tao worked on a shoot. The two of them had stayed up before Charlie went back to his lonely and cold flat, averting his eyes from the wooden beams that criss-crossed the ceiling. She’d been asking questions that Charlie continually parried, familiar ones that she had brought up a few times since Charlie had been back in London.
How are things feeling with Nick?
What do you think about, like, long-term with him?
Have you and Nick talked about what the future would look like?
He’d cocooned in on himself as she gently pressed him, wrapping a blanket around himself and offering half-committal answers. Of course he’d thought about those. Charlie had thought about every one of those. He also thought about how truly bonkers his honest answers to each of those would be.
Things feel terrible and wonderful. It physically hurts to not get to be together. I’m more comfortable and secure than I’ve ever been with another person and that makes it less scary. What is scary is how much I love him.
Long-term? I think about marrying Nick. I think about being with him every day. I think about waking up to his face, and getting to marvel at how he just gets more distinguished with every line around his eyes.
(Charlie knew that Nick would be one of those men who just got more handsome with age, that perfect fuck.)
We hadn’t talked about what it looked like in the future for them, but I see it. I see a life with Nick. I see coats hanging up on hooks inside a door, two jackets right next to one another. I see unfolded clothes and nights on a sofa cuddled together and quiet mornings with warm drinks in a travel flask.
Charlie saw all of that, but he had no idea how they could get there. How could it go from weekends visiting one another to something more permanent? Maybe they’d have the summer together during those months that Nick would have off from rugby. Charlie’s stomach was overtaken with that pleasant swooping sensation when he imagined a summer, the two of them at Lavender Fields. Maybe it would be so magical and delicious that they’d both need to get more. Charlie would move to Leeds, no questions asked. He could imagine it so clearly that it seemed like a plan instead of a fantasy.
But even for that to happen that summer – that was truly unthinkable. Charlie and Nick had only been together for two months. They’d spend only a handful of nights in the same bed. Even at the end of the summer, it would still only be eight months from when they kissed for the first time. Planning a future like this, that was desperate. That was needy. That was clingy, needy, desperate Charlie who left metaphorical bruises on the arms of those he loved, trying to hold on in terror.
Charlie was thinking about all of these things as they walked, the high of the morning mutiny wearing off as he again considered how it could be possible to lay the bricks so that there was a bridge between he and Nick’s now and their then.
Elle shivered and looked up as the air noticeably cooled, clouds covering the sun. “Ooh, too cold for me. I ordered spring temperatures.” Tao snorted and Elle smiled fondly at him in a way that hurt Charlie’s heart. “Do either of you want coffees?”
Both Charlie and Tao did, and Elle waved off their offers to help carry them, saying that she was more than happy to. She walked off towards the stand in the park and Charlie and Tao settled on a bench overlooking a muddy pond.
They sat in silence for a few moments, both of them gazing out towards the water. Charlie heard the call of a loon, a low mournful sound that seemed to come from all around them. It brought him right back to Lavender Fields, and the evenings that he and Nick would visit Nellie and Henry. They’d say hello to the girls and then lean against the fence, Nick wrapping them both in his coat. The birds would call and swoop above and beyond them, their cries filling up the sky. Charlie swallowed, his throat aching. The wildness of work had chased away the acute pain of being separated from Nick, but it had all come rushing back in an instant. Charlie looked away and tried to centre himself, blinking hard.
Out of nowhere, Tao spoke. “You know how my dad died when I was a kid?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, surprised. Tao rarely spoke about his father, who had passed away when he was eleven.
Tao nudged a rock with his foot, not looking at Charlie. “I was so angry for a long time.” He paused. “I always… like, even as a kid I didn’t really think there was such a thing as an afterlife.”
Charlie looked over at one of his oldest friends, even more surprised now at the turn in the conversation. He knew that Tao was an atheist, but it just didn’t come up much. Empathy welled in his chest as he considered again what that must have been like for an adolescent Tao. “That had to be… god, that had to be so hard, Tao.”
“It was,” Tao said simply, still looking at the water. There was a pause. “It was just – one day he was there. Then he wasn’t. And it was over.” Tao kicked the rock that he’d been toeing. “I was so angry about it. Sad, too. He was gone and it was all gone.”
They sat in silence for another moment while Charlie tried to think of what he could say. He imagined a younger Tao, his entire life changed in a day. Charlie imagined that there had been relatives, friends, and clergy offering platitudes about his dad being in a better place and how confusing and devastating that must have felt for his friend, especially as a kid.
“I’m sorry, Tao,” Charlie said finally. “That sounds like a hard thing to go through at any age, but especially then.”
Tao nodded, and it was quiet for another moment. “Remember when we watched that show The Good Place?” he asked suddenly.
Charlie nodded, confused again. “Yeah?”
“There was that line that Chidi said in one of the last episodes. Something about what heaven was. He said that maybe that was what the good place was. It’s just time. It’s getting to spend time with the people that you love.” Tao looked at Charlie, who nodded mutely. He had remembered being struck by that quote during the episode, then it had left his brain. Clearly, it had stayed in Tao’s.
“I’ve read about some concepts of heaven,” Tao continued. “For some people like me, who don’t believe in any sort of afterlife, there’s this concept that heaven is just time. So there’s this whole idea that heaven is actually on Earth – it’s having time with the people we love.” He looked at Charlie again, whose mouth was dry. “We don’t know how much time we have. My dad didn’t. None of us do.
“Elle says this thing to her clients all the time,” Tao continued. “It’s some quote – I don’t know who. But she always says, ‘The most dangerous risk of all is the risk of not doing what we’re passionate about on the bet that we can buy ourselves the freedom to do it later’.” Tao looked at Charlie frankly. “I know for me, I always assumed there was more time for everything before my dad died, you know? We could go to a movie together later, after I hung out with my friends. We could go on a trip later. We could do all of those things later.” Charlie sat in silence, each one of Tao’s words striking him. “When we watched that episode of The Good Place, I realised how fucking incredible it was that I got to be with her. We met, and I met someone who makes me feel like the best version of myself. I realised that I wanted to spend all of my time with her now, because there might not be a then.” Tao looked at Charlie once again. “It stayed with me. That the only thing we have is time to be with the people we love, and we don’t know how much we have left.”
Charlie’s eyes were full of tears, and he could feel his mouth trembling with the effort to keep himself from crying.
“I’m just saying,” Tao said, his voice steady. “I don’t know what you believe about heaven and the afterlife or whatever. For me, it’s one life to live. I want to live the life I have right now with the people I love. That’s the heaven on Earth I can create, instead of choosing to live in a hell I make.” He raised an eyebrow at Charlie, somehow both looking caring and exasperated at the same time in a way that was fondly familiar. “You love Nick. It seems like he loves you. So why are you living here and he’s living there?”
“It’s… it’s not that simple,” Charlie choked out, barely able to speak without dissolving.
“It is,” Tao replied with a trademarked Tao scowl, which Nick had named a Taowl. “Elle always had that quote on our mirror, remember it? The poetry one?” Charlie thought back, picturing the words as Tao said them. “‘What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’ It’s always been a little too flowery for me,” Tao remarked, breaking through the life-changingness of the words in his no-nonsense way. “It’s true, though, to me at least. It’s one life. Do you really want to waste any of the time you have?”
Charlie was staggered, his mouth slightly open as Elle came back, carrying the coffees. She looked between him and Tao, and Charlie saw a little smile crease her lips. “Have you two been talking?”
“Yeah,” Tao nodded. Charlie was still staring in amazement at Tao and his shocking turn as tall, skinny Buddha.
“Good,” Elle said with a smile. “Here’s your coffee, Charlie.”
They stayed at the park a bit more, Elle immediately changing the subject to non-Nick-focused things. Charlie participated in the conversation, but his mind was still reeling with what Tao had said. It all seemed so clear, pieces neatly locking together in a way Charlie’s mind hadn’t been able to in the past week and a half since he’d left Lavender Fields. When they got back on the tube, Charlie sat in silence rocking along with the motion of the train as Elle and Tao quietly spoke to one another. He hugged them both, clutching Tao fiercely before they said goodbye and headed their separate ways.
As Charlie emerged back onto the street, his phone buzzed, a banner letting him know that he had a voicemail from Nick. With trembling fingers, Charlie pressed play and raised the phone to his ear.
“Hey Char, it’s Nick.” Charlie smiled, even just Nick’s voice filling his chest with light. “I got your postcard, which I would counter is the single wisest financial investment you’ve ever made. I mean, if you paid anything less than seventy-five pounds for that, you’ve essentially stolen it.” Charlie chuckled, moving to the edge of the sidewalk to avoid getting in the way, frozen as he listened to Nick’s message. “I’m just getting back from training now – I have a couple of hours until team dinner, then the match is tomorrow. I’ll give you a secret signal to let you know I’m thinking of you during the match. Every time I flail my arms in a totally controlled and not overly excitable way, know that I’m doing that because I’m saying hi to you, not because I turn into a feral mongoose on the sideline.”
Charlie laughed aloud, leaning against a building and pressing the phone closer as though it could bring him in contact with Nick. “This card…” Nick trailed off on the voicemail. “It’s perfect.” There was a pause, and when Nick spoke again, his voice was hoarse with emotion. “It’s perfect, Charlie. Because you’re perfect. And I miss you so much. I’m so glad I see you next week but it feels like a million years away. I wish you were here. Now. With me. I miss you, Charlie. I think I’ll miss you every day.”
Charlie clutched his phone, this time as if it could keep him upright. Nick – his voice wasn’t trembling or unsteady. It was emotional, but so filled with certainty that Charlie’s bones firmed within his body, some of the strength that felt as though it had been stolen at their parting re-instilling itself. He vaguely felt a few tears roll down his cheeks, but made no move to brush them away.
On the voicemail, Nick gave a little note of a laugh as though shaking himself out of the moment. “So, yeah, I loved the card, I loved it. I l–” Charlie’s body nearly collapsed. Had that second word started with the letter L? Had… had Nick–
“I can’t wait to see you,” Nick’s voice went on, gentle and warm. “Call me tonight? I’ll probably be home round 8:30 or 9, not too late. I don’t have to wake up too early, either – I might have to set a Char-larm clock, even. Yikes, Nelson. Okay, I think it’s time for me to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Charlie was standing stock-still on a London street while people swarmed around him, dodging and hurrying as a few drops of rain began to fall from grey-bellied clouds. Nick’s voicemail – it was Charlie’s heart. Everything was suddenly, startlingly clear.
What did Charlie plan to do with his one wild and precious life?
It was simple, far simpler than even Tao had said. Charlie planned to love Nick Nelson. That was what Charlie planned to do.
Charlie planned to love Nick.
He laughed aloud, attracting some looks from passers-by. Why had he tortured himself about plotting out next steps and how to do all of it? Charlie had lain awake in the bed in the flat, considering the summer and how to bridge he and Nick to the next page, planning small steps that could possibly lead to a life with Nick. He’d been staying in his own hell, convincing himself that it was too soon, too big, too unrealistic to think bigger. But that was what it had been, hadn’t it? It had been Charlie, trying to make his feelings small. Charlie had been trying to make his relationship and being long-distance be fine for him and Nick. He’d been trying to make it enough. He’d tried and reasoned with himself and fought it, but the truth was the same. It wasn’t enough.
Charlie wanted more.
The next hour was a whirlwind. Charlie flew back to the flat and shoved as many things as he could into a rucksack, then sprinted out to his car. Tao was right. The only time that Charlie was guaranteed was right now. Later was a promise that might not be delivered, and Charlie never wanted there to be a later with Nick. On the tube, his thigh jiggled as he bounced his foot up and down, considering the literal hundreds of ways that they could make this work. Maybe the thing with Anita would work out, or maybe it wouldn’t. She’d messaged Charlie more details and it sounded incredible, though he knew it was risky to start a new venture. Either way, Charlie could find a remote job. He’d live in Leeds. He and Nick could be together. It was all so easy. He wanted to be with Nick. If Nick wanted to be with him, they could be together. There were no barriers except the ones that Charlie had created – well, as long as Nick felt the same way.
For once, Charlie marvelled as he started to drive, that thought didn’t control him. There was the chance that Nick might not feel the same – that was a true and real possibility. However, even if that were true, it was still Nick. Nick wasn't going to punish Charlie for expressing how he felt. He might gently tell Charlie that it was too soon, or he might say that he needed a bit more time. Nick would be honest with Charlie, but not cruel. He would be thoughtful and not angrily reactive. Charlie could trust Nick. Charlie did trust Nick.
In the car, Charlie tried to call Nick. The phone rang and it went to voicemail. Charlie attempted to leave a message, but his voice quivered and he hung up. He didn't want to try to express anything over voicemail. He needed to see Nick in person, and not try to say these life-altering things through the phone.
He tried Nick a few more times as he drove, trying to stay within about 25% of the speed limit. Charlie got a bit worried after call number six, wondering what might be going on with Nick. Again, it was almost baffling to just be able to observe what was happening and not let it consume him. Charlie was curious and a little worried that Nick wasn't picking up, but not because he thought that Nick was angry with him or ignoring him. Nick just wasn't that type of partner. It appeared like Nick was at home when Charlie finally pulled off for petrol and to look at the find my friends app on his phone, so he wasn’t as concerned about Nick’s physical safety. What was a little worrying was that his cell phone battery was low. In his haste to pack, he hadn't brought a charger. Finally, feeling a little desperate, Charlie rang Amy.
“Oh my fucking god, babe, really?” Amy exclaimed when Charlie breathlessly recounted that he was on his way up to Leeds. “You’re coming up here? Nick is going to die!”
“I haven't been able to get in touch with him, Amy, I don't know–”
“That asshole left his phone at home,” Amy clucked, and Charlie could nearly hear the eye roll through the phone. “He’s here at the dinner, though, it looks like Danny and James have cornered him. On my orders, I’ll have you know.”
Charlie turned the volume on his phone up. It had just started to rain and the throwing of drops against his car roof was making it hard to hear. “I needed to – I need to see him, Ames.”
“Wait, is it for something bad?” Amy asked, concern lacing her tone. “If it is, I don't want to threaten you or anything, but if you want to break up with him or something like that I am going to infest your entire life with woodworms. Again, I don't want to threaten you. But I’ll end you.”
Charlie laughed, an accelerated sound in his keyed-up state. “No. I need to tell him how I don’t want to live without him. I need to tell him how much he means to me. I want to tell him how I’m–”
“Oh my god, Charlie,” Amy burst out, sounding close to tears. “Oh, this is – this is so amazing. He misses–” her voice cracked and Charlie raised his eyebrows. “He misses you so much.” There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, clearing her throat. “So you’re coming to, what? Like, to visit?”
“To stay,” Charlie corrected her, sniffling and laughing at the same time. “I want to be there with him. With all of you.”
Amy shrieked in delight and Charlie winced, turning down the volume in his car. “Fucking fuckety fuckletons, I am so fucking happy! Okay, let me – fuck! He’s left. Hold on…” There was a murmur of sound and Charlie heard muffled voices coming from the phone. “Okay, yeah. He’s going home. How far away are you?”
“Maybe twenty-five minutes?” Charlie guessed, looking at the nearest road sign. He hoped he’d be able to find his way to Nick’s without his phone. “Okay, I’m going to try him one more time. If he calls, let him know I’m on my way, will you?”
“This is a huge night for the Nick Nelson Deforestation Committee.”
Charlie paused, stymied by confusion. “The… what?”
“The Nick Nelson Deforestation Committee,” she repeated immediately. “It’s a collective with Danny, James, Tex, and Regan. We’re dedicated to the elimination of pine. Because that boy has been pining for you.”
Charlie laughed hard, his body untethered and free. “You punned? For Nick?”
“That’s like the only one in my arsenal,” Amy admitted, and Charlie giggled. “When you tell Nick about it he’ll roll his eyes and say that I already used that one and you can tell him that it’s homophobic to hate recycling.”
“Oh my god, Amy.”
“I fucking love you,” Amy declared in way of an answer. “Now go get your boy!”
Charlie laughed, tears spilling out of his eyes as he hung up. He used the voice command to dial Nick once more, but on the third ring, his phone went completely dead.
“Fuck,” Charlie muttered to himself. Fortunately, the directions were fairly straightforward and he made his way onto Nick’s street, recognising the building. Fortunately he remembered the number of Nick's unit as well: 1247. It was one of those numbers that stuck in his brain. It was nice, like each number doubled except for that one little hiccup at the end.
It was absolutely chucking it down when Charlie pulled into one of the car park spots for visitors. It didn't matter. Just seeing Nick was the only thing that mattered. In the short dash from the car, Charlie was soaked through. He was absolutely dripping water as he thundered up the stairs, too anxious to wait more than a few seconds for the lift. Charlie knocked, his heart hammering even more forcefully than his knuckles. The half second before the door opened, he was seized by a surge of anxiety. What if–
The door swung open, and time froze and stopped. Charlie looked into Nick's face, His countenance changing from curiosity to confusion to looking like he had just been slapped. Charlie's eyes travelled over the freckles that bridge across his nose and took in the kind eyes, the perfect lips. He marvelled at the way that Nick’s eyes widened fractionally as they looked at Charlie like he was the most precious thing in the world. Nick looked at Charlie, and in that instant, Charlie knew.
Charlie wasn’t in London. He wasn’t at Lavender Fields. He wasn’t in Kent or anywhere he’d lived. But here, with Nick – Charlie was finally home.
Notes:
I made this one up the other night. I am firmly in the “measure with your heart” school (a genetic condition I inherited from my mother) so there are definitely estimations when it comes to amounts in here!
Creamy Sweet and Spicy Vegetable Pasta
Ingredients:
1 large butternut squash, cubed in small pieces
Drizzle olive oil
⅓ c brown sugar
¼ t cayenne powder
1 t chili powder
Salt and pepper5-6 large tomatoes
Drizzle olive oil
Minced garlic
Salt and pepperPreheat the oven to 425 degrees F. In one bowl, mix the squash with the brown sugar, oil, cayenne, chili powder, salt, and pepper together and then spread on parchment paper on a baking sheet. In a separate bowl, quarter the tomatoes and cut each piece again. Toss with oil, garlic, salt and paper and spread on another baking sheet. Do not not use parchment paper for the tomatoes, you want them to directly hit the heat of the pan. Roast for 40-50 minutes.
Olive oil
½ red onion, diced
Minced garlic
1 c chicken or vegetable broth
¼ c whipped cream cheese
¼ c parmesan cheese
Salt, pepper
Aged balsamic
BasilPasta - I like rotini or penne since it picks up the sauce that way
While the vegetables are roasting, saute the onion and garlic in olive oil until they’re softened. Add in the broth, then stir in the cheeses. Season with salt and pepper.
About 10 minutes before the veggies are done roasting, start boiling your pasta in a separate pot.
Once the veggies are ready, mix them into the onion/garlic/broth/cheese mixture. Use a potato masher to mix everything together, though the sauce will be chunky and not uniform. Once the pasta is done, drain it and pour it into the pot with the sauce. Add salt, pepper, aged balsamic, and basil to taste. Top with parmesan cheese!
I love you - see you next week!
Chapter 59: Charlie's POV: More
Summary:
Charlie and Nick finally confess how they feel about each other. Spoiler – they both would check “yes” on a note that was passed to them asking do you like me.
Notes:
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(Love you, wavey. No, no there definitely were not Shark Tank episodes on my last flight, why do you ask?)
The absolutely incredible NellieNelson17 gave me a gorgeous gift last week, working with https://x.com/AlrickRichard to commission a picture of Lavender Fields Nick and Charlie. Thank you so much for this gorgeous gift and for allowing me to share it here!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Time was frozen and Charlie was frozen. He took in the sight of Nick’s face, and in a flash, he saw his future in the expression on his boyfriend’s face. Charlie saw a life of caring and concern, delight and surprise. He saw a life of warmth, welcome, and light spilling out of an open doorway for as long as he lived. Then in another moment, he realised that he was icy cold and standing, sodden, on Nick’s entryway. The momentary breathlessness evaporated and Nick jolted, reaching out for Charlie and pulling him inside.
“God, you’re soaked. Come on… just – come in, let’s get you some new clothes…”
Charlie nodded and numbly stepped inside, only now aware of how desperately cold he was. “Yeah, good idea.”
Nick was looking at him as though trying to understand if Charlie was real or a mirage. “Did you forget a coat?”
Charlie looked down at himself, genuinely unsure. “Oh, uh… yeah. I didn’t check the weather before I left,” he said, looking up and feeling a stab of anxiety. Now that he was here, the whole tell Nick I’m hopelessly in love with him out of nowhere plan seemed terrifyingly real. “Or get a chance to tell you I was coming, either,” he added with a nervous laugh.
Nick shook his head, his eyes on Charlie and soft. “I’m so glad you’re here.” There was a breath of a second and then Nick wrapped Charlie in his arms, pulling their bodies together. Tears pricked in Charlie’s eyes and he sighed tremulously. He’d first thought he was home when he’d seen Nick, but Charlie realised that he was wrong. He was home in Nick’s arms. They stayed as they were for a few moments, clutching one another like they were both terrified that they’d be pulled apart. Then, slowly, Nick began to touch Charlie – a hand on his arm, then head, then back. With every touch, Nick’s breath deepened, as though he was finally convinced Charlie was really there. They separated just a fraction and Charlie swallowed back a sob as their lips met. He was with his boyfriend. He was with his Nick. He was with his love.
Charlie was with his future.
Nick pulled him close once more and spoke into his hair. “You must be freezing.”
“I am,” Charlie shiver-laughed.
Nick took his hand. “Let’s go to my room. Come on, we’ll get you something dry and warm to wear.”
Charlie numbly followed Nick through the flat, only tangentially registering the sleek and generic fixtures and decor. It didn’t seem quite Nick. Once in Nick’s room, he let go of Charlie’s hand to pull things out of his closet, handing Charlie piece after piece of warm, soft clothing. Despite how bone-chillingly cold he was, Charlie could feel himself thawing just from the kindness of Nick hand-selecting things for him. He pulled on the layers, keeping his eyes on Nick the whole time. Part of Charlie wondered if this was real – was he really here, with Nick? After two weeks of some of the worst pain Charlie felt, could this be where he chose to live his one wild and precious life? God, that felt overwhelming. One piece at a time, Charlie reminded himself. One piece at a time.
“I tried to call,” he said to Nick as he pulled on the final layer, a Badgers jumper with Nick’s name on it. The little shiver that went through his body when he noticed that had nothing to do with frigidity and everything to do with some caveman-like desire to have Nelson on his body “I couldn’t get you, though.”
Nick looked apologetic. “Fuck, yeah, sorry. I set my phone aside after I left you that message earlier and forgot it before going to team dinner. I’ve been all out of sorts since I’ve gotten here, I…” He shook his head, his eyes glittering. “I’ve been a mess since we’ve been apart, honestly.” Nick gave a note of a laugh and moved towards Charlie, who felt utterly rooted to the spot, anchored by the open, full-hearted admission. Nick’s words were unapologetically naked and raw, not shrouded behind anything. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so hard to be here without you. It doesn’t feel right not being with you.”
Charlie blinked hard, attempting to will the tears back into his eyes. This man. This giving, loving, open man. He took another breath, Nick’s vulnerability again making it safe for Charlie to show his own. “I’ve missed you too.” There was a long, shivering moment and then Charlie knew. He knew. It was time to tell Nick. He steeled himself, but then softened. This was Nick. Charlie didn’t need to be hard and muscle through his. Nick – and them together – he and they were all softness and light.
Nick stepped closer again. “Charlie,” he began. “I wanted to tell you–”
“Can I – can I say something first?” Charlie asked, not wanting to cut Nick off but also not wanting to lose his nerve. He was nervous, though he was also safe. Nick nodded and Charlie took a long, shaky breath.
“Nick,” he said, and just saying the name nearly caused him to cry. How could one word, one name, possibly encompass who this man was? How could four letters contain a person who contained the world? “When I met you that first night at Lavender Fields,” Charlie went on. “I feel like you met me, but you didn’t really meet me, you know?” Nick nodded, his forehead creased and eyes locked on Charlie. Charlie had thought through what he was going to say in the car, fretting around the exact right words to say and even sketching an outline for his revelation in his head. Now, standing in front of Nick, Charlie realised that he could just be. He could just be honest.
“That night that I got there, I was at one of the lowest points I’d ever been,” Charlie said quietly. He thought about the first week, when he’d mired himself in misery, knowing that he would be alone. Charlie had felt as though he’d known so many things, ones that had been drilled into him again and again through words and experiences. “I’d been in this relationship, this absolute shit relationship, and I was convinced that was all I would ever get. It was like… after so much time with Ben, there was this little voice in the back of my mind telling me I was worthless and didn’t deserve anything more than what I’d gotten. Than anything more than what I’d had in the past…” Charlie pressed his lips together, emotion choking his throat. Charlie pictured himself three months ago, a young and terrified person who he wished he could go back and hug. Nick was just there, listening, never looking away from Charlie.
Nick never looked away from Charlie.
“I feel like… it was like my real personality was buried inside me for a really long time,” Charlie said, thinking again of three-month-ago Charlie and how small he tried to make himself. He thought of how that slightly younger version had contorted and minimised himself to fit into the image of who Ben thought he should be. Charlie looked at Nick, who’d helped him blossom. Nick, who had helped him unlearn the things he “knew”, the ones Ben had made him believe.
“You helped me find myself, Nick. I didn’t know how bright the world could be. I didn’t know that I could feel the way I do when I’m with you. I didn’t know…” Charlie took a long breath, needing to look away from Nick for a moment. Nick’s eyes were bright, hovering on the edge of tears, and his throat was working. His whole body was tuned to Charlie, like Charlie mattered more than anything. “I didn’t know I could feel like not a burden,” he said softly. “Like someone wanted to be with me for who I was, not who they thought they deserved.”
Nick inhaled sharply and reached for Charlie's hand. He caught the tips of Charlie’s fingers in his own and held them gently, as though he was trying to absorb the pain. It was gentle and grounded at the same time, and Charlie swallowed several times before speaking.
“I didn’t know that I could feel wanted,” Charlie said, looking at Nick and marvelling that life had brought them into the same world, at the same time, and at the same place. “I didn’t realise that I could be with someone who treats me the way that you do, Nick. It’s you,” he said, trying and failing to summarise exactly what he meant. “Beyond all of that, all of the ways you’ve made me feel, it’s you. You are amazing, Nick.” Charlie shook his head and smiled, though the heat of tears were building in his eyes. “You are kind. You’re funny. You take the time to teach me things like all of the positions of rugby even when I forget them every time, and you’re always patient when you do. You do so many tiny things every day. Like – you always put toothpaste on my toothbrush for me. You always give me one of the blue plates when we eat together, because I told you I liked the colour blue one time. You always tuck a little bit of the blanket under me when we’re watching something. You notice things and you care.”
Charlie inhaled a long and unsteady breath. He could have named the kindnesses that Nick had shown him for hours and never listed all of them. Instead, he stopped and looked again at his boyfriend, the light that brightened everything. “You make the world feel kinder,” Charlie said quietly, looking still at Nick. “I didn’t know the world could feel the way it does when I’m with you.” Nick’s throat worked and Charlie could see the tears in his eyes. “I missed you, Nick.” His voice cracked. “I missed you every second of every day.” Charlie snorted out a half-laugh. “I kept looking around the office wondering why everyone wasn’t furious all the time. Like, I wanted to throw things and yell and have a proper tantrum. Other people were annoyed at being back, but I kept wondering how they could just go on working like things were normal. I realised that it’s because I had something that I cared about so much – someone I cared about so much, and I hated being away from you.”
Charlie pulled his hand away from Nick’s and toyed with the cuff of his sweater. He needed to say this on his own, not connected. He needed to say this as Charlie, the fullest version of himself. “All week, I’ve just been missing you more and more. I loved it when we talked and have been counting down the days until next weekend in London, but it was… it was like a piece of me was missing, you know? It’s felt like I haven’t been my whole self.” Nick’s lips pressed together and it looked like they were trembling, his eyes and body still fixated on Charlie. “It just got harder and I kept thinking about time. I kept thinking that I’d gone 29 years of my life without knowing you, and how the part of it where I knew you was way, way better.”
Nick laughed softly and Charlie did too, heart swelling as he looked at the love of his life. “When you called today and I got your voicemail, I thought…” Charlie looked at Nick, blue eyes searching brown. “I thought that maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe it wasn’t just me who feels like the way we are right now – that it’s not enough.” Charlie looked down, summoning all of his own strength that Nick had helped him find. Charlie deserved this. He deserved love. “You and I were talking about what had happened with Ben. I said that I thought maybe what I was getting with him was all I would get. You said something to me, Nick.”
This was it. This was the moment when Charlie would take out his beating heart and lay it on the table, a heart that he could only now access because Nick helped him find it. He drew in a slow breath, trusting that no matter how Nick reacted to it, it would be with gentle hands.
“You said, ‘There is enough, so ask for more’.”
Charlie would remember the night Nick said those words to him for the rest of his life. Nick had been so earnest and authentic, and his firm belief had sparked a long-dead flame in him. For ages, Charlie believed that what he was getting was the best he’d ever get. Nick had done so many things to help smooth out the rough, dark lines that Ben had tried to ink into his brain. That was amazing, but beyond that, Nick allowed Charlie the first glimpse of belief Charlie met Nick’s wide eyes, looking utterly staggered. “I want more, Nick.”
Nick opened his mouth with a stifled, breathless sound as if he were going to speak, but Charlie needed to say it all. He needed each word to swell and billow and take up all the space that they’d been shouting in his brain for the last weeks and months. Charlie took Nick’s hand, their fingers laced together. He wondered if Nick could feel him trembling. “I don’t want to be part-time boyfriends, Nick. I want more. I want to live in the same place as you. I know we’d have to figure things out and figure out how to do it, but I want to be with you. I think I realised all of this as soon as we were apart, but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon, or if I would be asking for too much.” Charlie chuckled weakly as he looked into Nick’s pale, keenly attentive face, recalling his and Tao’s conversation just that afternoon. “Elle and Tao and all of them told me I was being an idiot, in both loving and aggressive ways. I want to see you every day, not just on the weekends where we can make it work. Or not, like, every day. We wouldn’t need to live together or anything, but Nick, I don’t want to be hours apart for who knows how long. I want more.”
Charlie looked into Nick’s face, who still looked half-stunned. While he knew that Nick would be kind, Charlie wondered for a moment how bonkers he sounded. They’d spent, what, four weeks actually dating? Was that it? “It… it sounds mad, I know,” Charlie admitted, not wanting Nick to think that this was normal for him. None of this was normal – but then again, neither was what Charlie felt for Nick. “Like I know the idea of moving so soon is mad, let alone moving in together. But I want to at least… talk about it. I want to talk about how we could be together, because I want to be with you, Nick. If you’ll… if you’ll have me.” Charlie’s eyes raked over Nick’s face as he tried to memorise every contour and freckle if this were to be the last time they’d see each other. He gave himself an internal shake – none of that kind of thinking – then laughed, a single and anxious syllable. “So, uh – the end.”
There was a glittering half-moment when Charlie nearly fainted from anticipation and then Nick seized Charlie’s hands and pressed them to his chest. When he spoke, his words trembled and shook with emotion. “Charlie,” Nick said, shaking his head. “I was about to drive to London to tell you the exact same thing. I literally had the keys in my hand when I heard you knock. I’ve been – I’ve been thinking about the same thing all week and I’ve–”
Charlie blinked, utterly confused. Nick was – what? “You were going to drive to London? But the match…”
Nick didn’t even respond to that, speaking over Charlie as the words tumbled out of his mouth. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight, Char, and for the last few days. I want more, too.” Charlie’s heart jumped right back off the table and into his chest, thumping and aching with shock. Nick… too? Nick – more? Nick want more? NICKANDCHARLIEMOREBOTHWANT?! “I want us to live in the same place, too,” Nick was saying, painting the world with glittering words that could never be erased. “I hate being away from you. I’ll do whatever it takes for us to live together, or even just in the same city if you’d prefer that to start.” Charlie closed his eyes and fought back more tears when Nick reached out to gently draw his thumb along Charlie’s lower lip.
“I can finish out this season here and then find some other job in London,” Nick said, and Charlie’s eyes flew back open in confusion. “Most of the large sport channels film out of there; I’m sure my agent can help me find something as a pundit or a commentator, and I can find a flat if you didn’t want to live together yet and at least that way we can be in the same city even if–” Nick’s words, which were spilling out faster and faster, only stopped when Charlie pressed a finger to his gorgeous lips.
“Nick,” he laughed, so light he could fly. “One of us has a job that can easily be done remotely, and it’s not you.”
Nick looked adorably and inexplicably shocked. “You – what? But I–”
“I don’t want you to quit the Badgers!” Charlie took Nick’s hands, baffled that Nick would even consider coming to London. In all of the wonderings about how this might go during the car ride, he’d never even considered that as a possibility. Charlie didn’t want that. “They’re your team. I know it’s been your home since you found the team, and I know how happy it makes you. I’ve seen you with rugby. You love rugby. You love being with the team. This is where you’re supposed to be.” He looked at Nick with soft eyes, but Nick was shaking his head and never looking away from Charlie.
“I’m supposed to be with you, Charlie.” Nick pulled their joined hands to his chest again. “All I want is to be where you are.”
Charlie’s chest hitched. Nick’s words were a salve, a soothing relief after being so hot and cracked when they were apart. “That’s all I want, too.”
There was a long, aching moment where Charlie tried to drink everything in. He wanted to remember every detail of this gorgeous, glimmering night. He took in the way Nick’s face was shifting and changing, drawing even softer and more gentle with every breath. Charlie inhaled the smell and heat of Nick, his body close to Charlie’s for the first time in nearly two weeks. He soaked in the warmth of Nick’s hand, now releasing one of his to drift to Charlie’s cheek again.
“You’re it for me, Charlie Spring,” Nick said, the smile clear in both his face and voice. “I am one hundred percent, entirely and completely done for you.” Charlie grinned back, nearly bursting into giggles with his relief and joy. “I was literally about to drive to London and tell you how I felt, tell you that you are it for me. I was afraid…” Nick said thoughtfully, and Charlie’s eyebrows creased. “I was afraid that I might come on too strong or, like, scare you away.” Charlie silently congratulated himself on not laughing. Nick thought he might scare Charlie off? Had Nick met Charlie? “And that might still be true, I know, but I know that I’m not scared of how I feel. I’m not afraid of how I feel about you.” Nick looked at Charlie, the half-hitched smile that fully stole his heart blossoming before he spoke.
I love you.
I love you and I want to be with you. You are incredible, Charlie Spring.
You’re incredible! I sometimes – I can’t believe you exist.
Charlie stood stock-still, hardly daring to breathe. The words – the words that Nick was saying to him, they were –
They were real.
They were real.
What Nick was saying wasn’t written in Charlie’s head, desperate wishes that had manifested into imagined and perfect words that wrapped around him. Nick was saying those words.
“I love you. I love you and I want to be with you. You are incredible, Charlie Spring. You’re incredible! I sometimes – I can’t believe you exist. I can’t believe that all of the incredible pieces of who you are exist in one person. For someone to be so talented, smart, funny, and beautiful…” Nick shook his head as Charlie continued to wonder if this could be real. Could life be this golden and miraculous? “You are perfect, Charlie. Like, I know no one is actually perfect but the mix of all of the things you are, who they make you – that you is perfect… just as you are,” Nick punctuated that with another soft caress, this time pushing a few of Charlie’s curls away from his forehead. “I love the exact you that you are, Charlie, and no matter what happens, that’s just part of who I am. Loving you is just part of me now.”
Charlie swallowed dryly, the clicking sensation in his throat providing a tantalising suggestion that this might actually all be real. “I want you to move here,” Nick said with a half-shrug, like the world hadn’t entirely shifted beautifully. “I just want to be with you, for as long as you’ll have me. God, I hope it’s forever, Char. I want you in Leeds. I want to be able to see you every morning, or at least drive over and bring you coffee or scones if you want to get your own place. I want you here with me, but mostly, I want you to be wherever you’re happy. This flat, a place of your own, a place we find together – I don’t care about anything, except being with you.” Nick smiled at Charlie, who still felt like the meme lady trying to make all of the maths make sense. Nick + Charlie = 4ever? “You might not be there, Charlie, and that’s okay, I promise,” Nick said, giving a tiny shake of his head as if to reassure Charlie. “It’s more than okay – I don’t expect you to feel the same way yet. But I’m not afraid of how I feel about you. I love you. I want to be with you. I’ve fallen entirely in love with you, Charlie. I just want to be with you.”
Charlie fought a sob back and tried to gather the words to tell Nick that his own heart had lived in Nick’s chest for months. “Nick, I–”
Nick looked at him reassuringly. “You don’t have to respond, Charlie. I know it’s soon, and honestly, me loving you is enough for me right now. Like I said, I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just wanted to tell you that–”
Charlie, half-crazed with feeling and feeling as though his lungs might burst if he didn’t tell Nick how much he loved him, seized his boyfriend by the shirt and pulled him into a hard kiss. When he released Nick, Charlie was both laughing and crying. “I’m trying to tell you how desperately in love with you I am, you giant rugby idiot!” He let go of Nick’s jumper and pressed his hands against his boyfriend’s heart. “Nick, I am so stupidly, entirely in love with you.”
Nick, his sweet, thunderously adorable boy, looked shocked. “You… you love me?”
“Yes,” Charlie laugh-sobbed as they embraced. “I love you so much.”
Charlie caught the awed expression on Nick’s face as before they embraced. “I love you so much!”
“I got that,” Charlie responded, the words bubbling out in a laughing cry. “I think that might have been established the last ten times you just told me you were in love with me.”
Nick giggled and sniffed, laying his head on Charlie’s with a groan. “Why are we like this?”
Charlie snorted, looking up at the man he loved. “I have no idea. Two absolute dorks.”
Nick pulled him close again, pulling their bodies tight as they rocked. “I love you,” Nick murmured into Charlie’s hair, and each of the words poured into Charlie’s veins, becoming a part of his body just as much as his skeleton. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Nick Nelson,” Charlie whispered back. Then his chest ached and the tears came, tears of relief, euphoria, joy, and love. Nick cried, too, and they held one another. As they did, Charlie didn’t think about the acute pain of the last few weeks and how he’d wished for a moment that he never imagined could be as beautiful as this. Instead, he thought about what it would feel like to have this man, this body, this person, this heart, in his arms forever. That was what fueled Charlie’s tears; the marvellous awareness that that was his future.
It took a bit for both of them to calm down enough and when they did, Charlie pulled them both to the bed. They settled on Nick’s bed and Nick lay his head in Charlie’s lap, bringing on a fresh wave of emotion. Charlie smoothed Nick’s hair, throat working as he reflected on something so simple making him feel completely at home. After a few minutes, Nick spoke, voice still choked with emotion.
“Did something… isn’t your job still making you all come back, though?”
“Yeah,” Charlie responded, still stroking Nick’s hair. Nick murmured and then sat up with a sigh, presumably so he didn’t fall asleep on Charlie’s lap like he had many times before. Charlie smiled at his perfect boy as they adjusted, laying on their sides and pulling each other as close as they could. Charlie wasn’t sure he’d ever be as close to Nick as he wanted. “Yeah, president douchetwat is still insisting that we have to come in, at least for another two weeks, and then we’ll reconsider.”
“President douchetwat,” Nick snorted. “Danny will like that. He’s been using a different descriptor every time he talks about your job calling you all back.”
Charlie laughed, his chest glowing brightly. Danny and Amy and James and Tex and Regan and Seamus and all of them – they were all here. Moving to Leeds didn’t just mean Nick. It also meant another group of friends, ones who already knew and accepted Charlie and his friends. “Oh my god, I need to hear some of these.”
“I’m sure he’ll be willing to share them all with you. God, off the top of my head, the ones I can remember? President skinny-dick, Fuckles the clown, ‘that candy corn bitch’, Rumpleforeskin–”
Charlie dissolved into giggles, shaking his head. “Okay, yes. President Rumpleforeskin forever. But yeah, so your mum’s cookbook has been selling really well, and–”
“Wait a second - what?” Nick interrupted, eyebrows shooting up on his face. “Her cookbook - it’s selling? It’s for sale?”
Charlie grinned at his perfect, deliciously close boy. “Yeah, she and I have been talking about it. That division said it’s one of the best sellers right now, the whole ‘cottagecore’ feel seems to be an underserved cookbook market.”
Nick shook his head in wonder, utter awe on his face. “That’s amazing!”
“Right? I mean, her recipes are incredible obviously, but it’s been so cool to see how well it’s done. Your mum is actually going to work with our media and marketing teams; she might set up an Insta specifically for Lavender Fields recipes.”
Nick laughed, waving that off. “I don’t even think she has a personal Insta right now. I can’t imagine her as an influencer, but she’s always done things that surprise me.”
Charlie jerked an eyebrow up and inclined his head at Nick. “There is going to be so much sliding into her DMs, I bet.”
Nick’s face dropped and he slowly raised the hood of his jumper, pulling at the strings until Charlie could only see the tip of his nose. Charlie laughed hard and then tried to open it up, Nick laughing too. Nick kissed Charlie’s palm and then released the hood, affecting an entirely-unserious scowl. “...What was it about her cookbook you were bringing up before you decided to choose violence?”
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie giggled, remembering that there was more to the story than just torturing Nick with imaginary scenarios where his mum got shagged. “So anyway, I actually got a few calls from a friend of mine who’s opening their own publishing house. They’re a friend of Tao’s, actually, and have secured a good amount of capital. I guess Tao had told them about me and they’d done some research on the things I’ve worked on. They think I have a really good eye and want me to come on as an agent and help vet books. It’d be full remote, and it might be a little risky, but I guess they’ve already gotten a lot of interest and support.”
Charlie nearly raised his eyebrows at the amazed look on Nick’s face. “You’d… you’d seriously think about leaving your current job?”
“Yeah,” shrugged Charlie, not quite understanding why it was so shocking to Nick. “It’s just a job, you know? It’s not like the Badgers are for you – not for me. This job is fine – like, I like the work but I can do that work wherever. Especially at a company that doesn’t make me come into work in person like president Fucklet the clown or whatever Danny called him.”
Nick laughed and pulled Charlie close, tangling his fingers in Charlie’s hair. Charlie murmured and burrowed deeper into Nick’s body, wishing he could fuse their bodies together. Nick kissed Charlie’s hair and Charlie wondered if light was shooting out of his every orifice. “If they let you stay remote at your current place, though, would you?” Nick asked.
Charlie made a noncommittal sound. He’d thought about that in the car. Did he like the job? Yes, to a degree. He liked the people. But his person and his people might be leaving relatively soon anyway. “Maybe? Honestly, I like the idea of a change. I’d get to read a lot more submissions rather than just work with the material that I get. I miss old roles where I was doing more of that, and working at a starting place like this and getting my foot in the door could open up a lot of possibilities for me. So I’ll see what happens in two weeks when they decide if we’re allowed to go remote again.” He shot Nick a cheeky look and Nick grinned in response. “Now I have options and leverage.”
Nick nodded and laughed. “I can imagine you sending the new president some sort of scathing and deeply intelligent, ‘I Quit’ gift if you decided to leave.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlie said with a giggle as he snuggled against Nick. “What would I do?”
Nick nodded thoughtfully. “I’m imagining you as Cal and him as Rose and you presenting him with some sort of giant jewelry box, but when he opens it, it’s a necklace where the charms are old typewriter keys spelling, ‘Fuck u, I’m out’. Where the ‘u’ is just the letter, of course.” Nick’s fingers danced through the air as he described it, even forming the letter “U” with his right hand.
“Of course,” Charlie sniggered. “That’s two fewer typewriter keys that I’d need to steal.”
Nick laughed too and he wrapped his body more securely around Charlie. Their legs were tangled, arms braced around each other. In the quiet, Charlie could feel Nick’s breath rise and fall, his chest pressing against Charlie’s. He could sense the way that it had started to shallow out, and eventually Nick drew back and sat up, leaning against the headboard. He patted the bed next to him as Charlie moved, too, and Charlie grinned as he went to sit next to his boyfriend, his love.
His home.
When Nick spoke, Charlie could hear the plucked edge of anxiety in his voice, a string that quavered with nerves. “Do you… do you mean it, Charlie? Would you actually consider moving to Leeds? You’d leave London and move here?”
Charlie hugged his knees into his chest, resting his chin on top. It was oddly vulnerable to say it out loud – that he’d be willing to change cities to be with the man he loved. It didn’t feel like a sacrifice to Charlie, but rather an admission. “I would, yeah,” he spoke quietly into air that felt softer in his lungs than it had in nearly two weeks. “I just want… I just want to be with you.”
Nick was looking at him with glittering eyes, softly shaking his head as if awed. “You’d really – you’d be giving up so much, Charlie. I feel like it’s so much of you giving things up and so little of me giving anything up. I don’t want you to have to uproot your life while I keep the same job and the same city. That’s just–”
He stopped when Charlie touched Nick’s cheek, stroking down the soft skin with the back of his first two fingers. Nick closed his eyes and moaned softly, though it wasn’t a sound of lust. Instead, it was an auditory manifestation of what Charlie had been craving for the last few weeks – connection. “We’re not keeping score, Nick,” Charlie murmured. “We’re on the same team.”
Nick’s eyes grew bright with tears and he nodded, taking a moment before speaking again. He interlaced his fingers with Charlie, both of their hands still resting on Nick’s cheek. He looked at Charlie, locking their eyes together. “Charlie. I–” Nick’s voice broke and Charlie turned his head to kiss Nick’s fingers, not wanting to distract him from what he needed to say but also wanting Nick to know that Charlie was there. He would always be there, because he wanted to be. “I want you here more than anything. More than literally anything, Charlie. Are you absolutely sure you’re willing to move here? Leave your home in London?”
Charlie’s heart ached, this time with fond empathy. He knew that feeling, that terror of asking for what someone else might say is too much. “You don’t need to manage how I feel, Nick.” He tried to keep his voice gentle and touched Nick’s chest when he tried to interject. “I know you think about me, and that means so much to me, Nick. But know that with you, I finally…” Another wave of dizzying emotion swept over him, an astonished rush as Charlie realised that he was so completely comfortable and safe advocating for what he wanted. And beyond that – Charlie finally allowed himself to know what he wanted. “I’ll tell you what I want, and I’ll tell you if things are too much – which they aren’t. I’ll tell you if something feels stressful or unbalanced. That being said – what I want is to be where you are, Nick.” They locked eyes once again and the lump in Charlie’s throat ached beautifully. “You are home for me, Nick. I want to be where you are. That’s what matters to me.”
Nick’s lips trembled and his fingers quivered a tattoo on Charlie’s. They looked at one another and for an instant, the world stood still with no room for anyone else but them. It was them.
Then as if pushed by a loving universe, they moved towards one another and kissed again, this kiss feeling entirely different to the too-short ones that they’d had since Charlie arrived. All of the layers of anxiety, worry, tension, and loneliness had finally shed, with anything that might have held Nick or Charlie back gone now. With chains dropped, everything was now soft and timeless. Their mouths met each other over and over until their kisses increased in intensity. Charlie’s temperature rose as they drew their bodies close, a thirst-starved man not realising how badly he needed water until he reached the oasis.
Charlie moaned and slipped his hands under Nick’s jumper, desperate to feel skin on skin. A drawn out, rumbling sound spilled out of Nick as he arched his back towards Charlie, pressing their chests together. Within seconds, they surged back towards one another. Despite how bone-chillingly cold Charlie had been just a few minutes before, there was a heat in the core of his body now. That heat flamed in him and then extended out as he and Nick nearly wrestled on the bed, both of them pulling at each other as though to fuse their bodies together. That heat simmered between Charlie’s legs, a tugging and aching longing.
He pushed Nick slightly away so that he could lathe kisses on Nick’s exposed neck, not able to stop himself. “I missed you so much,” Charlie breathed in between touches of his lips, both of them laying on their sides. “I missed touching you so much.”
“I missed – god,” Nick hissed in a sharp inhale, a sound that Charlie had learned was a clear indication that Charlie had just hit the spot. “Charlie, you feel so good - I missed this. I missed you.”
Charlie groaned and pressed his rock-hard erection against Nick’s, their bodies undulating towards one another in desperate bids for more contact. “I missed making you feel good,” Charlie murmured as he brought his mouth down and along Nick’s chest.
Nick caught him by the top hip and drew his thumbs into the waistband of Charlie’s joggers, a tantalising and mouth-watering sensation. “Can I…” Nick panted. “Can we take these off? I don’t even need us to do anything, I just want to feel your body on mine.” Charlie hid his smile in the space between Nick’s neck and shoulder, nearly gleeful. Nick sounded as though words were slow-coming, a honey-slogged fight to get each one out. “Every night when we were apart… every night I just wanted you with me. I wanted to feel you on me.”
The heat coursing through Charlie’s body was nearly all-consuming now. He slowly stripped off his joggers, then tugged at Nick’s as well. “Funny,” Charlie said as he threw the trousers aside and then drifted his body up Nick’s until his lips were by Nick’s ear. “So many of those nights I’ve been wanting to feel you in me.”
Nick jolted and his eyes flew open. He looked at Charlie with comedic delight and Charlie blushed slightly. It was entirely true. Since Clevedon, he had fantasised about Nick on him, in him, filling him, connected to him, rutting into him – all of it. “Charlie Spring,” Nick said, voice entirely astonished. “Wow.”
“If you’re not interested, then.” Charlie manufactured a devil-may-care shrug and went to turn away, hiding his smirk. He laughed when Nick caught him around the waist and then rolled Charlie onto his back.
Nick looked down with that amazing, half-hitched smile of his before he purred into Charlie’s ear and made him shiver. “It’s a good suggestion.”
A tiny sound escaped Charlie’s throat, something between a whimper and a groan. Nick was on top of him on his hands and knees and Charlie desperately wanted Nick’s whole weight on him, crushing him with his presence and solidity. He bit his lip and let it slowly drag through his teeth and saw the shimmer of desire in Nick’s eyes before he surged down to kiss Charlie. Nick’s hips were rolling and his hands slid like silk over Charlie’s body, smooth and too light. As they rolled against one another, words drifted between them, mindless and perfect.
I love you
God, I love you
I missed you
I wanted to wake up with you every morning
I want to wake up with you forever
I love you
Their breathless recitations to one another were replaced by heavier breathing and heaving chests. Both nude, it was clear that neither of them would be able to get enough of each other. Every one of Charlie’s senses were heightened, and he shivered under Nick’s touch. His hands still held the calluses of his work at Lavender Fields, and Charlie loved the hard-soft drag of his fingers, a scraping pleasure soothed by a tender touch.
Charlie was nearly ready to combust as Nick slowly traced his way down Charlie’s body, covering his chest and stomach with touches of his mouth. Nick moved his head down Charlie’s body first, following it with a sensual drift of his fingers until he reached the meeting of Charlie’s thighs. Nick dragged his lips over the sensitive skin of his hip creases as Charlie arched and moaned, nearly delirious with lust.
“What about…” Charlie gasped, trying to be saucy. The effect was lost a bit by his mindless panting. “What…about….bamban?” Nick chuckled and Charlie swore, the vibration so close to his dick almost causing an explosion that would have buried the room in nearly two weeks’ worth of orgasm.
“Fuck that,” Nick replied throatily, mouth still teasing Charlie. “I don’t play any more. Plus I’m a very important boss and I get to make the rules now.”
“If that’s what you think, Coach Nick Nelson.” Charlie tugged at Nick’s hair and Nick moaned obscenely, a soul-coating sound that might never leave Charlie’s psyche. He couldn’t take it any more – he needed to get laid. Yes, they were in love and yes that was quite literally the pinnacle of Charlie’s life, but right now he needed the peenacle. Oh, god. Charlie got up amid a chorus of sad sounds from Nick, sounds that turned far more earthy when Charlie gave Nick a firm stroke along his shaft. “Give me a few minutes, okay?”
Charlie hurried through cleaning up, showering quickly and appreciating just how clearly prepared his boyfriend was for Charlie to visit based on the shower accoutrements that were available. He dried himself off and then grabbed a jumper that had been hanging on the towel rack – another one that said NELSON – and reentered the bedroom, heartbeat throbbing in his dick.
Nick snorted when he came in. “Quite the fashion over there, Charlie. You look like sexy Winnie the Pooh.”
Charlie looked down at himself and had to laugh at how absurd he looked. He was nude except for the jumper, his straining erection jutting out in a way entirely unbefitting a beloved childhood character. “I got cold after the shower,” Charlie protested with a giggle before slowly stepping towards the bed where the love of his life lay.
Nick reached out and took his hand, trying to pull Charlie onto the bed. “If only I could think of a way to warm you up,” he murmured, kissing Charlie’s hand.
Charlie snorted. “If only,” he laughed, resisting Nick’s pull only because he knew if he were to lay down with Nick, he was never getting back up. “Where do you keep lube and stuff?”
“Here,” Nick pointed, though his eyes remained fixed on Charlie as though he couldn’t look at him long enough. “In the bedside drawer.”
Charlie grinned and went to get the lube, bending over the drawer and rummaging through it until he found the bottle. He squeaked when Nick suddenly reverse-tackled him, seizing Charlie around the torso and dragging him onto the bed.
“You look fit as fuck wearing my name,” Nick growled against his neck. A tremor of pure desire shimmered through Charlie, making each one of his cells vibrate. Nick’s voice was low, throaty, lusty. His voice was all of the feelings that had been simmering inside of Charlie since he and Nick had been apart, hidden under the layers of melancholy and now rising up in a boiling rush.
Charlie moaned, reaching behind him and locking his fingers into Nick’s hair. He leaned his head back and they stayed in that position for a few, more or less spooning one another. It wasn’t friendly or platonic spooning, though. Both of their bodies rocked, Nick’s thick length pressing against Charlie’s back and arse while Charlie arched his back. Their hands clutched at one another until Nick gently pushed Charlie on his back to lavish attention on his body, almost like that night in Clevedon. Just like he had that first time, Nick took his time, touching what felt like every inch of Charlie’s skin besides his dick. Charlie could feel his mind becoming more and more unspooled the longer Nick teased him, even pinning down his hips to keep Charlie from bucking up.
“Nick,” Charlie murmured, his voice a plea that he almost didn’t recognise. “Please touch me. Please, I need…”
Nick seemed to know exactly what Charlie needed, turning him on his stomach and kissing down the backs of his legs. Nick buried himself between Charlie’s legs and used his tongue, making Charlie jump and thrash in wild pleasure before settling into it. He had no idea how much time passed; it could have been hours or it could have been minutes. Charlie’s heart was unreasonably fond as Nick continued to prep him, imagining Nick studiously reviewing articles and videos to make sure that he was a service top. He could picture Nick, tongue between his teeth in an expression of concentration, pausing a porn video again and again and taking notes to be sure that this was good for Charlie.
The way that Nick prepped Charlie was so – Nick. It wasn’t solely a means to an end, but a destination in itself. Nick was endlessly attentive to Charlie’s body, and responsive in ways that were turning Charlie on even more. Every time Charlie moaned, there was a lusty groan in response from Nick. Whenever Charlie twitched and swore, praising Nick and yelping about how good it felt, he could feel the shiver of pleasure that went through Nick, as well. When Nick stimulated his prostate, Charlie bucked and hummed, the nerves in his body crackling with heat. He was ready. He wanted this. He wanted this so badly.
Nick worked his way up to three fingers and Charlie was pushing back against his hand, half-crazed with longing. Nick’s hand was beautiful and perfect, but Charlie didn’t just want his hand. He wanted more.
“Nick,” Charlie managed to stammer out, brain a haze of hormones, craving, and love. “I want…” His eyes fluttered closed as Nick gave an especially delicious twist of his wrist and he struggled to reopen them. “I want you, baby. I’m ready.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Nick’s voice and hand were equally gentle as he drew back. “I want you, too. Are you sure you’re ready?”
I was ready a hundred and two days ago, Nicky darling. “Uh, yes,” Charlie managed to get out, eyes closed in bliss as he rolled onto his back. “This has already been…” he let the words hang in the air, dripping with sugar. “It feels so good to be with you again.” Charlie rolled his head over to look at Nick, amazed at the tender look in his boyfriend’s eyes before Nick softly kissed him.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” Charlie responded, touching Nick’s cheek. Then Nick slowly let his fingers drift over Charlie’s torso, though never touching his dick. Charlie laughed and jolted. “Actually, cancel that, I hate you.”
Nick popped his head up with a silly grin. “No, you like me!”
“I really don’t.”
Nick winked. “I figured we waited ten days, what’s ten seconds more?”
Charlie tugged at Nick’s arms to pull him back for another kiss. “It’s ten days plus ten seconds too long.” He released Nick and turned onto his stomach again, draping himself over some pillows and exposing himself in a way that felt entirely comfortable and right, not with prickling wonder and anxiety. “Is this – do you want me like this?”
There was a pause before Nick responded. “Can we…can we change?”
Charlie cocked his head and turned to look at Nick, intrigued by the tone of his voice. “Change? Like…flip?”
Nick shook his head. “No, no, I mean positions. Can you just…” Nick hesitated, then touched Charlie’s hip. “Can you be on your back? I want to be able to see you.”
This man. This fucking man. Charlie smiled, trying to mask the way his heart was aching with fondness. He sat up to kiss Nick before laying on his back, bending his knees and stepping his feet apart. “The syrup farm called, Nick,” Charlie grinned as Nick moved to stand on his knees in front of him. “They want their sap back.”
Nick snorted, shaking with laughter. “Charlie, I’ve been too sad to have a wank for over a week. If you don’t want me to come prematurely you can’t make puns while I’m about to be inside you!”
Charlie laughed, loud and bright. He dropped his head back, nearly overwhelmed with how happy he was. He opened his eyes and tried to take it all in – the patterns on the ceiling. The quiet hum of the heat. The utter sense of comfort and rightness. The majestic and golden beauty of love. Charlie breathed in the perfection and then looked at Nick, sitting up slightly to pull him in for a kiss. It was hot and close and the heat billowed back into Charlie’s dick, lighting him up from the inside with fire. “Nick,” Charlie murmured. “I want you. Please.”
Nick lifted one of Charlie’s legs, holding his calf up. Charlie’s breath caught in heady anticipation as he watched Nick use his other hand to position the head of his penis against Charlie’s entrance. Nick paused slightly and Charlie knew that it was another piece of Nick, the one that wanted to make sure Charlie was safe and comfortable.
Charlie reached out to touch Nick’s hand. He’d never felt more safe in his life. “I’ll tell you how it feels, baby. I promise.”
Nick nodded and Charlie saw his throat work. “Okay.”
He slowly pushed in – slowly. Slowly. Agonisingly slowly. It was beautiful torture – not any discomfort of penetration, but the delicious agony of buildup, waiting for Nick to continue to press inside of him. Nick was thick, the base of his dick almost as thick as his head. He was just an inch or so in when he paused, a modicum of concern in his voice. “Are you…?”
“Yes,” Charlie moaned, mouth watering with the want of it. “Keep… keep going.”
A low, rumbling noise poured out of Nick’s throat in response. Charlie heard and saw Nick gasp as his head slid in, a burn that quickly faded to ripples of pleasure. Nick didn’t go any further, though Charlie could feel his fingers quaking with what he had to assume was built-up anticipation. Even though Charlie suspected the same desperate, aching lust was thundering through Nick’s veins, he took his time, rubbing Charlie’s back and hips. Charlie closed his eyes in bliss, soaking in both the physical sensations and the warmth of Nick’s care. He nodded and Nick pressed in further.
Every inch that Nick slid into him made Charlie feel utterly more right. He hadn’t realised how much of himself was missing when he was away from Nick and this was a physical manifestation of what it felt like to be connected. Being like this, Charlie felt whole, full, sated. Loved. When Nick fully bottomed out he gasped out a gentle oh, his huge eyes looking at where their bodies were completely joined. Their eyes met and time stopped again, a perfectly paused moment where everything was heat and love and them. It was perfect, and Charlie wanted more.
Charlie arched his back, his muscles quivering. He reached up to grasp Nick’s arm, squeezing when he made contact. “Nick…” Charlie’s breath seemed to follow his pleasure, coming in overwhelming waves. “I want you to… please move, yes, please, Nick.”
Nick moaned and Charlie felt the reverberation vibrating through him. He could barely take in how sparklingly gorgeous that felt before Nick pushed in just a fraction more. Charlie whined plaintively when Nick drew back, the slow silken drag out lighting up every nerve like sparks were flying inside him. Their voices rose and entangled in the air as Nick pressed forward, then drew back, again and again. Charlie cried out with every thrust, a wild call of delectation and fulfilment. Every time his eyes fluttered open he was rewarded with a view of Nick’s face, the picture of rapture. Sweat was dampening Nick’s hair, and there was something indescribably sexy about the way it made his hair dark at the roots. His eyes were mostly closed, but when they were open, they were on Charlie.
Always on Charlie.
Their bodies arched and met over and over, and Charlie saw Nick’s chest hitch as he drew upwards to hit an incredible spot in Charlie. He finally stopped and Charlie opened his eyes from where he’d been drifting in bliss. “Can we –” Nick panted. “What if we go on our sides? So I can touch you more easily?”
Charlie nodded and closed his eyes again, smiling at how – of course – Nick was thinking of him yet again. He sighed when Nick drew out, immediately craving the feeling of completeness again. Fortunately, there was no teasing this time, and Charlie groaned in pleasured satisfaction when Nick pushed back in, locking their bodies together yet again. Nick’s arms encircled Charlie and one of his hands wrapped around his dick, turning Charlie’s groan into a gasp of wordless rapture. Nick would thrust up as his hand stroked down, and tiny starbursts of colour exploded on the edges of Charlie’s vision. He reached back, blindly tangling one of his hands into Nick’s hair and pulling.
“I’m…” Charlie moaned, the words melting in his mouth. “I’m so close, Nick.”
Nick’s lips were hot against his ear. His chest was hot as it pressed on Charlie’s back. His arms were hot around Charlie’s body. This was the single most erotic moment of Charlie’s life, dripping with heat and desire. “Yes, Charlie,” Nick murmured. “I want you to feel so good, love, so good…”
“Oh!” Charlie’s head tilted back and the syllable escaped out of his throat, two letters that tried to summarise a lifetime of pleasure in a single moment. The orgasm swelled and rose within him, his muscles clenching and trembling around Nick, who continued to work both his hips and his hand. Charlie’s pleasure was endless, reverberating through his veins. He heard and felt Nick tip over the edge, a keening edge to his voice. They rocked against one another until finally, the surges and arcs of their bodies slowed and Nick and Charlie clutched one another. Their breath slowly settled back to normal, and Charlie sighed once more when Nick drew out, already anticipating the next time they’d join together like that.
He smiled and murmured when Nick returned with a soft flannel, cleaning Charlie’s body with the same care that he’d shown when they’d been together a few moments earlier. Nick cleaned himself, too, then cast the flannel into his laundry bin and got back into bed. Charlie rolled over and snuggled onto Nick’s chest, the two of them laying in companionable silence. Charlie ran his fingers through Nick’s light chest hairs again and again, revelling in the fact that he was here. They were here. After three months, he and Nick were both here, able to openly speak about how they loved one another. Charlie thought Nick might have drifted off when he spoke, tucking himself around Charlie from behind as he did.
“Will you stay this weekend? Can you stay?”
Charlie smiled softly and touched Nick’s face. “Of course. I planned on it. As long as you’re okay with me being here.”
“Actually,” Nick sighed, in a bored tone. “Yeah, I think you should probably go. I have this super-hot, super smart burgeoning new literary agent and business owner boyfriend and I don’t want to be caught in bed with his evil twin who is also all of those things but makes jokes about my mum shagging people.”
Nick’s words were entirely counteracted by the way he was slowly wrapping himself around Charlie like a cuddly anaconda, and he laughed. “Okay, I’ll leave,” Charlie sighed in false lament. He ‘struggled’ for a moment, but it was mostly to feel the way Nick’s thighs encircled him even more tightly, as if he could squish Charlie like a horny little grape. “Oh nooooo,” Charlie complained. “I can’t escape. Looks like your boyfriend will have to pry me out of the sexiest tree-trunk-thighs in Britain.”
“Tree trunk thighs?” Nick sounded bemused.
“You heard me.”
Nick ginned and turned on his side, drawing Charlie over by the hip so they were looking at one another. “The team is going to lose their minds when they see you. Once Danny notices you, I hope you’re ready for a very assertive amount of highly sexualised eye contact.”
“I can imagine,” Charlie snorted. He stopped, recalling that he and Amy had spoken earlier. It felt like two weeks ago at that point. “Amy knows I’m here, actually.”
Nick half-sat up in surprise. “Does she?! Since when?”
Charlie snuggled closer to his love. “Just tonight.” He tried to speak again, but it was difficult when Nick kept touching his skin as though he thought Charlie might evaporate. Every touch of Nick’s fingers was a cooling salve on hot, cracked skin. “I couldn’t get in touch with you, but your phone was showing you at home, so I just called to see if she knew what was going on.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m glad you thought of that; that was such shit timing for me to not have my phone.” Nick shook his head as if annoyed with himself, then a suspicious expression crossed his face. He arched an eyebrow coyly. “... What did she say?”
“She said you were at team dinner still, and that she had just left and you were talking to Danny and James.” Charlie smiled, his heart almost full to bursting on how it felt to talk about something shared. Shared friends. Their friends. Their life. “On her orders, according to her.”
“Her orders, sure,” Nick scoffed.
“Well,” Charlie said with a giggle. “She did capitulate and say that she was part of a collective with the two of them plus Tex and Regan.”
“This should be good.”
“She said that they call themselves the Nick Nelson Deforestation Committee.”
Nick was adorably confused. “Deforestation?”
“Yes,” Charlie said, manufacturing a sigh. It was manufactured, though. To be in Nick’s arms and life, he’d have ingested a thousand puns a day.. “A committee dedicated to the elimination of pine.”
Nick hesitated, then burst out laughing. The rumbling happiness was palpable and real against Charlie’s chest. It wasn’t laughter over FaceTime. It was Nick’s laughter, live and bright and in person. “Oh my god,” Nick sighed. “That is one of her few go-to puns; she’s used that before.”
Charlie grinned. “She said you’d say that. She also said that it’s homophobic of you to not appreciate recycling.” Nick laughed, and their bodies softly rocked in the bed together, huddled and warm. Charlie inhaled deeply, still reconciling that this was real. “She didn’t tell me too much; we didn’t talk long,” he said softly, touching Nick’s cheek once more. “She just said that you – it sounded like you were feeling the way I had been. That being apart was harder than you and I had even thought it was going to be.”
“Fuck,” Nick sighed, drawing Charlie tight to his body. “It was.”
Charlie smiled and reached up from Nick’s cheek to draw his fingers into Nick’s hair. He looked at his boyfriend, bliss stealing over him and melting his eyes shut. “It’s late. You’ve got the match tomorrow, we should go to bed soon.” A small part of him felt guilty for keeping Nick up late, but it was nothing like it might have been in the past, a panicked shame. Now, it was a note, a ping in Charlie’s brain that wasn’t able to bury its claws. Everything – his brain, his anxiety, his life – everything was gentler, now. Kinder.
“Soon,” Nick murmured, his words another layer of kindness and peaceful love. “Soon.”
-
It was a whirlwind the next day. Nick had of course sorted out tickets and the details of the match before Charlie even awoke. On the car ride, Nick refused to let go of Charlie’s hand and pointed things out excitedly that he was eager to show Charlie. The feeling was entirely different to when Charlie was with Nick in Leeds a few weeks ago with the team. That entire trip, landmarks had felt like losses, memories that would never be truly shared. Now, the way Nick gestured to restaurants and parks was as if he was painting a picture, detailing the life that they’d have together.
Imogen and the team admin Erin fussed over him, getting him coffee and insisting that he stay inside until the moment the team came out to stay warm. To Charlie’s delight, he hadn’t much needed it. He was immediately wrapped in a warm hug by Annette and the entire Wilcox family. Charlie caught Clara looking suspiciously between him and Nick and he gave her a wink, whispering the word, “Boyfriends”. Clara beamed and clapped and Charlie laughed. The glow just continued when the team came out, Nick’s eyes scanning and lighting up when he saw Charlie. He gave an adorable little wave, something private enough to not draw attention but enough for Charlie to know it was his.
Charlie laughed aloud when he saw Amy yelling and pointing at him. She blew him kisses and he thought she might have been saying something about after the match. He would see her after the match – today and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Charlie had endless tomorrows now.
He scanned the field for the Badgers he knew, though he didn’t want to distract anyone. It was a bit into pre-match warmups when James turned in a twisting lunch and spotted Charlie, his eyes glittering. Charlie laughed, watching James get Tex and Danny’s attention. Danny was demure and mindful as always, a true shrinking violet. Which actually meant he was using endless and creative versions of the word “fuck” while simulating sexual intercourse into the air. God, Charlie loved these people.
The match was a thrilling ninety minutes, with the Badgers coming out victorious on the heels of a Danny try. Danny’s celebration centred around him kissing the rugby ball with what had to be too much tongue to be sanitary, then extending it with a beaming grin towards Charlie. Charlie laughed in effervescent joy, then shook his head in delight as he watched the team celebrate. He couldn’t wait to celebrate with Nick after the match. Annette and Wilco pulled him into joyous hugs. Charlie was drawing back when movement caught his eye, Nick’s figure jogging closer.
Charlie tilted his head, surprised. He smiled at Nick, though it was laced with confusion – he’d never expected Nick to come over during the match. Maybe he was going to just wave or say hello or – well, or something like that. Charlie pressed against the railing, his gloved hands resting on the barrier. He opened his mouth to congratulate Nick, but his jaw hung slack and shocked when Nick deliberately lifted one of Charlie’s hands off the rail and kissed it, grinning at Charlie’s disbelief when he sat it back down.
Charlie watched Nick turn and jog away, so overwhelmed by giddy love that he thought he might cry for a moment. Charlie looked down at his hand once more, observing the way the sunlight lit up the dark glove and almost made it look as if it were glowing. He glanced back up and saw Nick looking at him, the love in his brown eyes clear even from across the pitch. Charlie smiled tremulously as Nick jogged off the field, following the team. That was his boyfriend. This had actually just happened.
And here was where their life began.
Notes:
I am sitting on a bajillion green tomatoes right now and I am sure our first frost is coming soon. This is a vegan recipe I found for green tomato salsa! She’s a simple girl, but she is GOOD.
1 lb green tomatoes
1/2 of a medium white onion, diced
1 or 2 serrano peppers, finely chopped
1/2 tsp salt or to taste
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro (gross)
1 tbsp lime juice or to tasteSet your oven to broil.
Halve the green tomatoes, then cut in half again to make quarters. Lay out the tomatoes on a baking sheet. Set the baking sheet on a top rack a few inches from the broiler. Broil for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned. Take out and allow them to cool.
While the tomatoes broil, add the diced onions to a bowl and fill with cold water to soak for 5 to 10 minutes.
Add the roasted green tomatoes to a food processor and pulse a few times to break them into pieces. Drain the water from the onion and put it in the food processor, along with the peppers, salt, cilantro (gross), and lime juice, pulsing a few times. Taste and refine as needed!
Chapter 60: Charlie's POV: Forever
Summary:
Nick and Charlie’s life together continues.
Notes:
I was hoping to have a very different, celebratory note on this chapter, but unfortunately that isn't the case. For all of my fellow friends in the US who are mourning and scared right now - I hope you’re taking care of yourself as well as you can. I’ve spent so much time wrestling today with how to manage sadness, numbness, fury, and the undimmable determination to keep going. I don’t have the answer yet (or maybe ever), but what I do know is that no matter how much hate there is, there is more love. If you have the capacity and ability to help others – with support, finances, a safe place to access reproductive care, a kind word - keep spreading that goodness. If you need help – please reach out. There are people who care about you, and I count myself among those.
Now… let’s escape to Lavender Fields.
Oh, Charlie. I told you very firmly and emphatically that we were NOT going to tell the whole story from your POV, do you recall that? I said we could do highlights. I was very clear about that.
You obviously disagreed.
It’s been wonderful getting to tell this story from Charlie’s POV. Thank you for being here with me, and thank you, kisses, and love to waveofyou, Nelliesayzbork, bi_panic_actually, and the whole Lavender Fields book club, who all make my light brighter every day. Another massive, laugh-until-crying thank you to songbird3724 and polkadotkat, who wrote a fucking incredible piece featuring Danny, James, and the portrait favor. Go read it now. Like, NOW now. It is steamy and cursed and MAGICAL. https://archiveofourown.org/works/60128347
I’m firmly saying that this is the last LF chapter. However, Danny and Amy are elbowing one another and snorting with laughter that I’d be allowed to stop without them getting a chapter. They are bullies and I am sure they will win. I’m starting work on a novel I’ve been thinking about for some time, so I won’t post regularly. However, you will absolutely see some pieces pop up from time to time; I can’t stay fully away from this world! 💜
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I can’t wait to cuddle you for hours, you cheeky sappy cunt! Oh, this is the greatest day of my life — except for the one when James first shagged me. Or the day he told me he loved more. Or the time the two of us had a brill root with a lad who looked exactly like Hen—“
“Baby, we need him to breathe,” James said calmly, pulling a grateful Charlie out of Danny’s anaconda-like embrace.
“Fweee,” Charlie replied, the most he could manage with the amount of oxygen that remained in his lungs.
It had been a riot since the end of the match. Imogen and Erin had come to collect Charlie at the conclusion of the fixture, ushering him down to the changing room and chatting happily along the way as he followed in dazed silence. Charlie had still been stunned by Nick’s quiet yet monumental gesture at the end of the match, taking Charlie’s hand and kissing it. He was still a bit staggered when he entered the changing room, a feeling exacerbated by the deafening cheers that met his arrival.
From the moment Charlie walked in, he was welcomed – truly welcomed. He was embraced both physically and metaphorically, the lads roaring in approval of his presence in Leeds (led by Danny, naturally). After Charlie regained his balance after the back-slapping hugs and beers thrust into his hands, Tex muscled his way over.
“What’re you doing here, Springtime?” He asked, pulling Charlie in a happy embrace. “Did you come to see the match?”
“I’m… moving here,” Charlie said, shooting a quick, happy glance at Nick under his eyelashes as he did. Nick beamed and Charlie’s chest ached with happiness.
“WHAT?!” Amy shrieked, nearly snapping her neck as she whirled to look between him and Nick. She then slapped Nick on the arm and crossed her arms, glowering at him.
“Ouch!” Nick protested, rubbing his arm. “What was that for??”
“For not telling me!”
“Ames, it’s been, like, eleven hours!” Nick protested, wrapping an arm around Charlie to hug him close and laughing.
Amy huffed. “That’s 10.75 too long.”
Danny popped his head into their circle, making all of them jump and laugh. “10.75 inches is too long. I know that from hard experience. And I do mean—“
“Danny,” Amy interjected, grinning brilliantly. “Charlie is moving to Leeds.”
Danny gaped at Charlie and Nick in open-jawed amazement for several long, anticipatory seconds before his eyes filled up with tears. That was when he seized Charlie in a vise-like hug, telling him how much he loved Nick and loved Charlie and loved love, especially gay love because it was the naughtiest kind of love now Nick and Charlie could be naughty all the time and on and on. James had been similarly surprised and delighted after he’d prised Danny off of Charlie, looking emotional himself.
The evening just went on and got better and better, the team spilling onto a coach that brought them all to Wilco and Annette’s house. Every reaction that Nick and Charlie received when they shared Charlie was moving to Leeds was entirely celebratory and filled with eager excitement. Several members of the team and their partners offered to show Charlie around town, or offered unprompted suggestions for jobs he might take or neighbourhoods that might appeal to him.
Charlie’s cheeks hurt from smiling so broadly for hours. It wasn’t just that he was there with Nick. And Charlie was certainly there with Nick. Every moment, they were there together. Nick’s hand would find his and their fingers would slip together, the warmth surging up into Charlie’s arm and settling in his chest like a pulsating ball of undimmable light. Charlie would nestle his head against Nick’s shoulder as they stood in the kitchen, an act of open tenderness with a pleasant lack of anxiety. Charlie could do that. He didn’t have to hide his affection for Nick. He didn’t need to hide his love.
The physical proximity was wonderful, yes, but it was more than that. It was the knowledge that he and Nick didn’t need to press themselves together, stalked by the looming awareness that they’d be separated again soon. Charlie had a sense of peace like he’d never known, a word he finally settled on that night. Nick’s head was on his chest, his soft sleeping breath tickling the skin on Charlie’s tummy. He’d fallen asleep after performing a spectacular blowjob on Charlie, one that had him curling his toes in shivery pleasure.
Charlie traced his fingers through Nick’s hair, marvelling at the realness under his fingers. Nick was there. He was there, he was real, and he was going to continue to be there. Their love was real. Their partnership was real. And the part — the shocking part that glittered with rapturous astonishment — was that their choices, too, were real. Both Nick and Charlie were choosing to cast off any excuses that might keep them apart and create a real life together.
Laying there with Nick asleep on his stomach, Charlie reflected on how this was his heaven, like Tao said. What he and Nick were choosing was time. They were choosing to steal as much time from the universe as they could, intertwining their lives for all of the moments they’d be lucky enough to have. He thought about how his life felt, and finally realised it just then.
It was peace.
Charlie felt at peace. For so many years, Charlie was dashing around in a world of “supposed to”s. At times, he was running towards that ‘thing’ that would make him appealing, both to himself and other people. Other times, he’d be burrowing tight, frantic holes in his own mind, anxiety boring down in his brain and filling itself with worries about what might happen or the things he wasn’t. He’d fret and chase and try to make someone happy - his mother, past boyfriends, society – but it would never be right.
With Nick, it was right. With Nick, Charlie could relax. He could see glimpses of what it was like to view Charlie Spring through Nick’s eyes, a truly astonishing experience. He could now unroll the fabric of who he was and begin to see all of the golden, glinting pieces that were bundled and wrapped into who he was. That awareness and that ability to see the good that existed inside himself was only possible because Charlie was finally still. He could lay here with Nick, not running or chasing or digging. It wasn’t the same as total stillness though — there was no sense of stagnation. That was what had finally brought the word ‘peace’ to mind.
Charlie was at peace.
-
The next couple of weeks passed easily, slipping like sand through glass instead of trying to swallow Charlie up like the previous two had. Instead of interminable separation, there was a glowing illumination that shone for Nick and Charlie, beckoning them towards their shared future. They spent time on the phone or on FaceTime every evening, talking about details, none of them particularly daunting. Details were just that — details. The important thing was that they’d get to wake up together every day like they had that Sunday before Charlie left to go back to London, their bodies warm and languid with each other.
Of course, not everything was perfect. Charlie could on occasion still feel his anxieties raise their noses in the air and sniff as though they had scented blood. He had unlearned so much he had previously believed, but there were still moments. One of those moments happened the same Sunday, where Charlie was moving around the kitchen, having insisted that he get to play Innkeeper Nelson that day and make Nick breakfast. Nick protested heavily, of course, and Charlie had silenced him with tongue-driven methods – also of course. Nick finally relented, though it was begrudging. He sat at his kitchen table (their kitchen table?!) and Charlie heard Nick snort with laughter.
“What’s funny?” Charlie asked, already smiling. “Is it another one of the pictures from last night? I’d never seen that much Australian shoved into that small a speedo and I don’t think I need to again…”
“Nah, not that,” Nick said with a visible shudder. He rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards his phone. “Just a ridiculous headline.”
Charlie peered over Nick’s shoulder and he immediately saw a picture of himself. It was a photograph of Nick kissing Charlie’s hand after the match. The first thing Charlie took in was how relaxed Nick looked, his eyes only for Charlie. The smile on his lips was clear even as he kissed Charlie’s gloved hand, while his own face was astonished and pleased. He and Nick were the focus of the photograph, everything else relegated to a slightly blurry background. Charlie’s eyes lingered on their expressions for another moment before the twist of fear seized his stomach with cold, stone fingers as he saw the headline.
Retired Nick Nelson, Now Leeds Coach, a Buggering Badgerer?
He read the words several times, growing hotter and more ill each time. This was Nick, splashed all over the Internet. Nick, who had only just realised his own sexuality, had his outness wrested away from him with this picture. Charlie’s heart raced and he tore his phone out of his pocket to Google Nick’s name.
“Oh, god, Nick,” Charlie said, sickened with guilt and anxiety as he scrolled through a smattering of articles about Nick’s sexuality. This was on him, for being so — so, like, obvious with affection. Charlie should have been more careful. “This is — I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—“ He cut himself off, looking up and away from his phone when Nick rose and pulled Charlie into his chest.
“Shouldn’t have what?” Nick replied, his voice relaxed and light. “You shouldn’t have come to the match that I invited you to? You shouldn’t have let me kiss you with full knowledge that we were in public?” Charlie blinked, Nick’s words settling like soft snow. Nick gave him an easy grin. “You shouldn’t have had hands? Since I was the one who grabbed yours and kissed it?” Charlie looked on in astonishment as Nick playfully tilted his head as if thinking. “Actually, this is on you. If you didn’t have such sexy hands, I wouldn’t have been tempted. Shame on your seductive hands, Charlie, shame.”
Charlie laughed, a startle reaction driven by a combination of amusement and being authentically taken aback. Nick was so relaxed about all of this. Did he — did he get it? Did Nick know that it was out now? It was real? He took a breath and picked up Nick’s phone to skim the content of the article. “No, Nick, seriously. Is this, like, a big deal?” Charlie bit his lip, old patterns of anxiety cutting off “to you?” that he wanted to ask. Charlie took a breath to tamp down the fear and looked directly at Nick. He’d carried a latent worry for months that the other shoe would drop for Nick at some point and he’d realise that being publicly with Charlie could bring stress and hardship. “Are you worried?”
Nick was shaking his head before Charlie even finished talking. “Literally not at all.” He touched his lips to Charlie’s hair for a breath before stepping back and shrugging with a grin. “I love you. I will never be ashamed of loving you. Anyone who has an issue isn’t someone I need to listen to or need in my life.” Charlie was rooted to the spot, too staggered to move. How could this be real? How could love be this… this easy? Nick’s eyebrows drew together and he touched Charlie’s cheek softly, only now looking concerned for the first time. “Are you worried?”
Charlie shook his head softly, attempting to gather himself back together from where Nick’s words had melted decades-old, iron-laced beliefs. “No,” Charlie finally replied. “I…” He looked up at this glowing light of a man who was also willing to explore the dark. “I’m just still getting used to you, Nick Nelson.”
Nick’s face melted into a smile again as he pulled Charlie close. “Yeah?”
Charlie pressed his face against the hard-soft planes of Nick’s chest and inhaled before looking up again. “I just… I’m not used to how good you are, Nick,” he said softly, shaking his head. Be open, Charlie. Be vulnerable. Partners. Nick’s your partner, not a person to be convinced of your worth. “How open you are with how you feel about me. I’m not even used to how you feel about me. It’s more than I could ever have imagined five months ago.”
Nick made a soft sound and hugged their bodies close. Charlie felt the lift and fall of his chest before Nick brushed his lips against Charlie's neck, already curving into a smile that Charlie could feel on his spin. “Get used to it, babycakes. I’m going to be so obnoxious about how much I love you.”
Charlie snorted, already endlessly lighter. “Babycakes, gross. And what does obnoxious love look like?”
Nick nodded thoughtfully. “Lots of mushy cards. Little love notes around the flat. Jumpers with your face on them. More hand turkeys for sure.” Charlie laughed, already excited for when Nick came to his flat in London and saw the hand turkey on his fridge, posted like the proud parent of a Year Two. “But that’s just the start,” Nick said in a warning tone. “I’ll definitely be doing some skywriting at some point, preferably over a very crowded beach. Oh, and a singing telegram. Just you wait, Charlie, I am going to find one that makes so much eye contact.” Charlie laughed, though it was paired with a burst of clarity for how James must feel. They swayed together, two warm bodies bound together by the promises of a future they were building together.
“For what it’s worth,” Nick said quietly after a moment. “I’m not used to you, either. I’m not used to feeling so accepted and secure. I kind of hope I never get used to that. Like, I never want to forget how good this feels.”
Charlie reached up for Nick’s face and pulled him closer, touching their lips together. “I hope I never get used to it, either.” His phone lit up and Charlie glanced at it, sighing at the time. He looked back at Nick, arching an eyebrow. “Though we have a few more hours to obnoxiously love each other before I have to go back to the land of woodworms and capitalistic company presidents.”
Nick grinned, flashing that half-cocked smile that would make it dangerous for Charlie to ever wear soft joggers in public. “A few hours, huh? “In two hours I think I can prove how much I love you… what, like forty-seven times?”
Charlie laughed then yelped when Nick scooped him up and carried him to the bedroom. At a few points over the next two hours, Charlie did vaguely wonder how obnoxious Nick’s neighbours might find their love. A gift basket, Charlie mused on his drive home. A gift basket that included a brand-new, best-selling cookbook, a variety of lavender products, and noise-cancelling headphones.
Very noise-cancelling.
-
It wasn’t great to have to leave Nick, but it was far easier than before. They were now no longer hemmed in by time and geography. Before, Charlie felt like he was drowning in the despair of what time together would look like as brief gasps of breath between the waves. Now, the horizon was endless, their future a shimmering boundless expanse that sparkled in the sun.
The messages and calls flew between them over the next few weeks, much of their conversation focused on flats. Before Charlie left, they spoke again about their living situation, neither one of them keen to live apart.
“We’ve already lived together for four months,” Nick reasoned. “And I have to say, you are an excellent roommate.”
Charlie laughed. “You are, too. I mean, you get used to constantly kissing your roommates of course, but I’ve never had one that both snogs me and bakes.”
“Tao never dons an apron and makes you a banoffee pie before giving you smooches?”
Charlie shuddered and laughed. “I’m not sure which is worse — the idea of snogging Tao or eating his baking. I love him but I very much do not want either of those things in my mouth.”
They’d agreed to move in together, and had both agreed that they could stay at Nick’s current place until they found one that was just right for them. Nick and Charlie messaged endless listings to one another, both fantastic and fantastically awful ones.
The conversation about money and paying for a shared place was funny. Nick went into full lawyer mode, pulling out literal evidence when Charlie baulked at anything other than a 50/50 split. He’d screenshared a copy of his former contract and just looked at Charlie balefully when he’d circled the amount he had been paid with the highlighter feature on Zoom. That had been it, and Charlie had burst out laughing.
“Fine!” Charlie rolled his eyes, though there was no heat behind his reaction. “I’ll agree to a ⅓ and ⅔ split. But I am paying that extra third of a percent - you are not rounding up.”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” Nick called out, holding his iPad away from his face. “I think you’re going through a tunnel!”
All week was a flurry of conversation. Nick and Charlie. Charlie and Amy. Charlie and Elle and Tao. It was flat letting and life planning and sexy phone chatting (though that was only to Nick, not any of the others). Knowing they were going to live together made things much easier, but Charlie still yearned for Nick. Literally yearned. He had never yearned before (and wasn’t quite sure exactly what yearning meant — if it meant ‘was super horny for’, then yes, he yearned for Nick).
The conversations with Elle and Tao, though far less erotically charged, had also been important ones to have. Charlie was slightly anxious to tell them he was moving, though that was quickly dispelled by Tao’s perfectly Tao response.
“It’ll be fine. They’ve recently invented moving vehicles, Charlie,” he said dryly. “They’re calling them the motor car and it’s all the rage.”
Charlie snorted and nudged Tao with his shoulder. “You don’t think it’s mad?”
“Of course it is,” Tao replied. He gave Charlie a half grin. “But it’s far more mad to not live the life you know you’re meant to.”
“We’ll visit and you’ll visit,” Elle agreed. She squeezed Charlie’s hand and smiled at him. “We know you’re not trading him for us. It’s just… both.”
Charlie grinned. “Yeah. It’s just… more.”
-
Work was both stupid and amazing in equal measures. Anita had worked hard and she and Charlie were now both negotiating contracts. Charlie almost felt giddy at how perfect this all was, both ridding himself of the corporate hagfish that was Jerry and taking a fully remote job. He kept the details from Nick so far – not as a secret, but to not tempt fate.
The contract was finalised the day before Nick and the team were due to arrive in London and it was fantastic. Charlie was eager to talk to Nick about it the following day, but then —
Friday happened.
Jerry the twatface had gotten on his shit that day. Charlie and Anita were part of a group of lightly mutinous directors who had been quietly pushing back on Jerry’s policies, telling their teams to work from home on the days that worked for them rather than the ones that worked for Jerry. They’d all also been quietly looking for other jobs, and several had gotten offers or were close to securing ones.
On Friday, Jerry called a meeting to talk about ‘improved productivity processes’ with the directors and managers. Anita and Charlie exchanged a grimly pleased look and a silent nod. The uprising had been quiet so far, as nothing had been outrageously terrible, but this meeting seemed promising for a major blow-up.
The meeting began with the same self-pleasuring faffacy that Jerry seemed to love, prattling on about key results and drafting visions and growth. Then the bomb had dropped.
“I know you’ve all been eager to hear about our productivity initiatives,” Jerry said, entirely unaware of the eye-rolling exchanges by his minions. “I’m thrilled to announce that due to positive feedback, we’re going to be a fully collaborative office by the end of the month.”
There was pause before Anita’s hand shot up, already speaking as she did. “So ‘collaborative’ just means ‘return to office’, right?”
“Productivity initiatives, as I said,” Jerry huffed, stressing the pluralization. “We’re also going to improve work-life balance.” Charlie and Anita glanced at one another, sceptical and suspicious, feelings that were immediately founded. “We’re extending a benefit to employees by mandating productivity software that—“
“Do you mean stuff that tracks clicks and websites and stuff?” another director named Leonore demanded.
“I mean implementing a way for employees to be able to quickly escalate important issues and stay focused so you can go home with work completed for the day and the worries of the office behind you,” Jerry said doggedly.
“Right,” nodded Charlie’s colleague Chris. “We can go home to relieve the nanny we had to hire because of remote work after leaving our corporate nanny.”
“It’s not—“
“I think it’s great,” Anita interjected, to Jerry’s pleased surprise. “This way, you can see how well the salaries are for the jobs we’re all applying to and adjust pay accordingly.”
Jerry looked shocked, then furious. “If you are looking for other employment during the work day, then I—“
“Have been an excellent provider of Internet in order to do so,” Charlie added with a grin, though his heart was hammering.
Jerry made an indignant snorting sound not unlike a bull. “This is outrageous. No sense of loyalty at all and—“
“I don’t feel super loyal to a company that gave ‘generous’ 0.7% cost of living pay rises last year,” Leonore chimed in, adding sarcased inverted commas around generous.
“If you feel that way,” Jerry fumed. “Then you can choose to leave. I will not—“
“Yeah, I’m choosing to leave.” Anita was the first to say it, leaning back in her chair and grinning at the purpling Jerry.
“Same,” said Charlie, raising his chin.
“Yup.”
“I’m out.”
“Goodbye, Jear Bear.”
Charlie nudged Anita as their colleagues — every single one of the ten of them in the meeting — continued to quit. “Look at that vein throbbing in Jerry’s forehead. It’s like a head hemorrhoid.”
“Headmorrhoid,” Anita whispered back, the two of them dissolving into giggles as they quietly stood and left, followed by their coworkers.
The ten of them headed to the pub and enjoyed a few drinks, their recollections of Jerry’s reactions becoming more farcical and exaggerated as the shots flowed. Charlie kept his drinking light, the effervescence in his veins at seeing Nick in a few hours giving him a buzz.
Anita caught Charlie looking at his phone several times and eventually gave him a little shove. “Go get your man, darling. I’ll stick with cocktails while you get some tail with a premium co—“
“Don’t,” Charlie laughed.
He made his way to the team hotel, lurking in the lobby until he saw his boy’s beautiful face coming around the corner. Nick nearly broke into a run and they collided, arms pulling one another close. Nick tried to pull back once, but Charlie just wrapped tighter.
“No kiss?” Nick murmured.
“Hug first,” Charlie replied, nuzzling in.
He could hear the smile in Nick’s voice. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Charlie volleyed back, grinning madly. This was Nick. His Nick. The Nick of his now and his future. “I just came down to ask where the ice machine was. Is this how you treat all your hotel guests, random employee with whom I am unfamiliar?”
Nick nodded against him. “Yes. I’m just all about that five-star rating. Can I show you to your room, sir?” They reluctantly disentangled but then Nick immediately took Charlie’s hand, heedless of anyone around. “Come on, we need to get upstairs before the rest of the team sees you.”
Charlie laughed. “Why’s that a bad thing?”
They stepped into the lift and Nick gently pushed Charlie against the wall as the door closed, voice a sexy growl. “Because I want you for myself.”
“Oh,” Charlie said faintly. “Okay, then.”
The lift ride was handsy, as was the trip down the corridor. In the room, Charlie’s urge to tell Nick his news battled with his urge to get Nick extremely naked. His career shift won out (which was some bullshit) and Charlie laughingly called Nick onto the bed with him. ”Hey, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Oh yeah?” Nick clambered onto the bed and sat up, back against the pillows. Charlie sat on his lap with his knees straddling Nick’s hips and their chests facing one another, unwilling to let capitalism stand in the way of erection-brushing. “What’s up?”
Charlie beamed, genuinely excited both for the change and to share his life with Nick. “I have a new job!”
Nick gaped at him, then broke into a gratifying smile. “You… you have a new job! At the new publishing house?!”
“Yes!” Charlie laughed and squirmed when Nick rolled him off his lap and covered him with kisses, all with loud smacking and muah sounds.
“That’s amazing! Tell me what happened?”
Charlie went through the whole saga. Nick was of course a magnificent story recipient, reacting at the right times and with appropriate vigour (though of course he included a pro-dick-tivity pun, but even the most perfect man in the world had to have some flaws).
Charlie had sighed deeply at Nick’s line. “You’re so lucky I love you.”
“I really am.” Nick grinned and then lunge-tackled Charlie into the bed, sweet silly kisses that were amazing and not enough. Charlie moaned and pushed at Nick’s shoulder until he rolled on his back and smirked his supremely stupidly sexy smirk. “Ooh, you mean lucky lucky, huh?”
Charlie snorted, then settled his body onto Nick’s. Their thighs pressed against one another, and Charlie could feel the stiff bulk of Nick’s erection on his own. They could do distance, but this was one of the reasons Charlie didn’t want to. The fairness and heat of Nick’s body against his made Charlie feel both anchored and ephemeral, fire coursing through his muscles.
“I missed this,” Charlie said, willing himself to say the appreciations in his heart aloud. Nick would never bat them away. “I can’t wait until we don’t have to go a week between doing this.”
“Me too,” Nick murmured.
“Hey,” Charlie said quietly, lifting his head to look at Nick. Nick looked up, too. “I love you.”
“God,” Nick replied, voice awed like he was still astonished by it as well. “I love you so much.”
Charlie leaned back down and kissed Nick, their soft words and soft lips shifting into harder grips, harder muscles, harder breathing. It was hardness and softness, like when Nick brushed his lips up Charlie’s neck, a sensation that sent a shower of sparks cascading through his body. Charlie tipped his head back and moaned softly, clutching at Nick’s arms and dimpling the muscles under his fingers. They were here. Their bodies were close and together, their chests pressed so tightly that Charlie wondered if the thumping of his heart was his own or Nick’s.
A shivery breath quivered out of his lips when Nick slid both hands around Charlie’s lower back and jerked him closer, glueing them to one another. Charlie hooked one of his legs between Nick’s and let his hands travel over Nick’s body, breathing deeply to inhale that incredible scent that he had missed for too long. Charlie revelled in the feeling of their hands on each other’s bodies, with no phones, no distractions, no tugging away of their minds to a future without one another. Instead, he could just be here. Without an unknown future looming between them and crowding in on the present moment, Charlie could be with Nick, fully experiencing every delicious sensation.
The stomach-tingling feel of Nick running a hand up the inside of Charlie’s thigh and letting his fingers drift over to Charlie’s quickly-firming dick.
Nick tilting his head back to lean against Charlie’s as his back arched and his arse ground against Charlie.
The way Nick gasped and murmured breathless words of pleasure when Charlie used his mouth, hands, and the toy that he was delighted to find that Nick had brought along to the hotel to open him up.
How Nick reached behind his own head to tangle in Charlie’s hair as Charlie thrust forward, driving their bodies together, moaning with every stroke.
Nick, calling Charlie’s name without shame, reservation, or fear. The full-throatedness of their love, unmuzzled and expansive, taking up all the space it could. The soft cries, the hard grip on each other’s bodies, the dizzying combination of perfection.
Soft and hard. That was what the love that they had was — something hard enough to bear the darkness of larger waves, yet soft enough to lay on when the light from the sun shone. They could have- both, the softness a respite from the hardness. They could carry a lightness to guide them through any darkness. Soft and hard. Light and dark.
Them.
-
It was tremendously fun to watch the match in person, especially since Charlie knew so many of the players. It might have been even more fun to watch Nick, who alternated between aggressively clapping and pumping his fist to a play to gripping his hair in dismay at some perceived fault. He was just so expressive as he coached, so full-heartedly and full-throatedly in the match. Charlie loved watching Nick's passion and the way it lit him up from within. He turned and smiled at Charlie a few times during the match, sending him a wink at the end of the fixture that made Charlie emit a tiny hrnnng sound.
Imogen and Erin again brought Charlie down to the changing room after the match to celebrate with the team. Charlie might have been a gay man, but he had never seen so many penises in one concentrated location. It was another fantastic and raucous time, all of them drinking and laughing and singing and celebrating together.
Nick and Charlie begged out of the celebrations after a bit so that they could go to Charlie's flat and get ready. It was the first time that Nick had actually seen his place, and he immediately started giggling when he walked in and looked up to see the beams. Charlie gave Nick a brief tour before losing Nick to the weighted blanket on his sofa. He came out of the bathroom at one point to see Nick bundled up to his neck in the soft grey blanket, looking like a blissed out and warm caterpillar entering its cocoon. Charlie had needed to coax Nick from his warm cave, but it hadn't been too difficult. All it took was a few suggestive hand movements and a little motion of his tongue and Nick's mouth to draw him into the bedroom.
After the requisite and necessary fondles, Charlie kicked Nick out of the bathroom to continue to get ready. His heart was something as he pulled together his outfit, one that he had carefully curated over the last two weeks. He had sent pictures both to Amy and Anita, wanting to get it right. Charlie took his time, carefully arranging his curls and pulling on the pieces he had selected. He put on a few finishing touches, including one that made him a little nervous. Charlie looked in the mirror once more, pleasantly surprised by the way the partially unbuttoned black shirt stood out against his chest. He felt good in his jeans, once that were tight enough to make him feel desirable and sexy, but not so tight that he wouldn't be able to dance. Charlie wanted to dance with Nick tonight.
He took one final glimpse at himself in the mirror, and opened the door to the bedroom. Nick turned to look over at him, and Charlie saw the smile on his face. That smile quickly turned into something else, Nick's eyes raking up and down Charlie's body and then landing on his face. Charlie's breath shallowed as Nick, clad only in his briefs, stepped closer, his eyes still with that curious expression as they took in Charlie. Nick slowly lifted a hand and touched Charlie's cheek.
“Is that…” Nick sounded awed. “Is that eyeliner?”
Charlie turned and looked at himself in the bedroom mirror instinctively, and immediately felt a little shy. “Oh, yeah. Do you think it’s - is it too much?”
Nick positioned himself so that he was directly behind Charlie, running his hands up and down Charlie's body. Charlie closed his eyes in quivery delight as Nick stroked up and down his stomach, his arms, his torso. “No,” Nick said quietly against Charlie's neck, his lips teasing the sensitive skin. “I fucking love it.”
Light. All light. Charlie flushed with pleasure. “Oh,” he said, mind a little offline with the soft touches of Nick’s lips that made him want to get on the bed and wrestle himself out of his skinny jeans. “That’s…good.” Nick continued to stand behind Charlie, lavishing attention on him. Charlie felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he sighed, bitterly aware of the time. “Come on,” he said, turning and taking Nick’s hand. “We can’t be late for Danny’s birthday.”
Nick whined, trying to chase Charlie’s neck with his mouth. “Homophobia!”
Charlie laughed. “Can you imagine how mad Danny would be to hear you say that?”
Nick fixed him with a look. “Can you imagine how mad Danny would be to know that we didn’t shag again before his birthday?”
“Touché.”
Nick sighed, his tone laced with sweet regret. “You’re right, though, we need to get going.” He reluctantly stepped away from Charlie to get dressed. Charlie wasn't so reluctant to watch Nick get dressed, his eyes drinking in the beautiful man in front of him. Nick was wearing jeans and a patterned button-down shirt, one that was partially unbuttoned and with the sleeves rolled up over a white T-shirt. His arms look offensively large, and Charlie couldn't help but wander over to stroke where the fabric strained against Nick's biceps.
“You like something you see, Springtime?” Nick teased.
“I like everything I see,” Charlie replied in a low voice.
Nick cocked an eyebrow “Reckon you want to see a bit more of me?” He dragged his thumbs down to the waistband of his jeans and poised, tugging the waist low to expose a little of his v-cut.
Charlie whimpered in response. “Yes,” he got out, entirely heedless of the time now.
“I’ll show you,” Nick purred, drawing Charlie in with two fingers under his chin. “I’ll show you… later.” He grinned and spun away, leaving a flustered, laughing, and indignant Charlie in his wake.
The night was absolutely brilliant. With it being Danny's birthday, everyone was dressed spectacularly. Danny of course was a shrinking violet as always, wearing a sparkle vest without any shirt underneath. He was also wearing pants that were so green that Charlie had to wonder where dye that colour even came from. It was a large group that came to dinner, all of their normal folks plus some friends of Danny and James's who weren't from the team. The group traipsed around, starting with dinner and then going to a cocktail lounge. Danny and James had prepaid for everything, and Charlie just let himself enjoy the night, often doubling over in laughter at something one of Nick or their friends said.
Danny had encouraged Charlie to invite any of his local London friends to all parts of the evening, but Charlie had demurred. He absolutely wanted to merge the two groups, but he also knew that going to all of those events could be a bit much for Tao and Tara, especially. Instead, they'd all planned to meet at the club where they were going to end the evening, joining up with Tao, Elle, Darcy, and Tara. Charlie enjoyed the walk over to the club, his hand linked with Nick's and his head casting around in all directions as he laughed and chatted with everyone in their group. He and Nick had been glued together for the evening, enjoying their time with their friends but also relishing in their physical proximity with one another. He was glad that Danny was taking endless pictures, excited to add to his and Nick's limited collection of photographs they had together. With so much time at Lavender Fields with only the two of them and cows who lacked both opposable thumbs and the patience to learn new technology, they’d had rare chances to be in pictures beyond Tao’s photoshoot.
Around midnight, their group reached the club and were ushered directly in, Danny and James exchanging hugs with the bouncers. From their group chat, Charlie knew that his friends were already there after doing dinner and drinks of their own. He looked around as they entered the club, scanning for familiar faces. It was only a moment before a wild-haired blonde slammed into him in a ferocious embrace.
“You’re finally here!” Darcy yelled over the music. She pressed sticky cups into his and Nick's hands, releasing Charlie only to gather Nick in a massive hug and spilling most of his drink. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
“I’m so glad you all came!” Charlie responded, grinning at the bedlam. “Where’s everyone?”
“We’re here!” Tara called, followed by Tao and Elle and then bracing herself on the table, breathing hard. “Jesus, Darcy, you should be an Olympic sprinter.”
“I’m only fast when properly motivated,” Darcy laughed, somehow producing two more cups of alcohol.
Charlie, Tara, and Nick laughed and Charlie embraced his friends. He watched with a silly grin as Nick exchanged a hug with Elle, followed closely by Tara. Charlie had to hide a grin when he saw Nick bounce his eyebrows at Charlie and then look at Tao before seizing him in an embrace. Charlie snorted while Tao accepted the hug and then stepped away looking mildly ruffled, like a tuxedo cat who had just misjudged a jump and was smoothing its fur afterwards.
“Oi, oi!” Danny called as he shouldered over to their group. “Oi! You lot!”
Darcy yelled in delight at his approach. “Danimal!”
Danny paused, slapping his thighs in joy when he saw who was there. “Digeridarcy!”
There was a flurry of motion and the two of them took each other’s hands and disappeared onto the dance floor. Tara caught Charlie’s eye and shook her head ruefully. “I think the world is either about to be saved or inexorably ruined.”
Charlie laughed, as did Nick. “Who says it can’t be a combination of the both?”
Darcy and Danny (Dancy, they insisted their couples’ name was) set the perfect tone for the night. Their two groups immediately merged and integrated, rugby lads easily chatting with queer artists and everyone having a brilliant time. Charlie couldn’t stop smiling throughout the night. He was here with his friends – all his friends. It was truly wonderful to not have to imagine what it would be like when the Badgers visited London, or when his group from London came up to Leeds. There would be no awkwardness to navigate, only true joy and fun. It was also heartening to realise how much fun Charlie had, even in the rare moments he and Nick weren’t together. Charlie never needed Nick as armour or a protective force to help him integrate with Nick’s lot. He wanted to be around Nick, but he didn’t have to be in order to be accepted. Charlie’s heart soared as they all laughed, drank, and danced, time slipping by.
Charlie had only danced with Nick before at Danny and James’s place, and it was nothing short of magic to be able to dance together in a space like this. Charlie lived so much of his life under the weight of what he was supposed to do in public and around others, a perception fed and sometimes enforced by his partners. Tonight, as the lights sparkled and spun around them, Charlie was gloriously free. He was free to wrap his arms around Nick’s broad, strong neck and sway their bodies with the music. He could bite his lip playfully at Nick, grinning at the small, desperate sounds that Nick mewled out in response. They could dance and kiss, knowing that they had their whole world around them and their whole life in front of them.
Charlie spotted some small pockets of attention, though it didn’t seem focused on him and Nick specifically, but rather the rugby team as a whole. Danny was constantly asked for pictures, and Charlie’s stomach hurt from laughing at the variety of poses and facial expressions he adopted for each requester. Charlie was largely, blissfully unaware of anyone but him and Nick and their friends, everything else just a swirl of light, colour, and sound as they moved between the dance floor and the bar. He had no idea how much time had passed, each moment blooming through his body and existing like a glowing firework, a series of amazing moments free-flowing through time. He closed his eyes in happiness as one song ended and another began, opening them when he heard Danny exclaim in delight.
“Oi, that’s my friend Nikki over there! She’s the one who taught me how to sound like I’m from Manchester!” Danny beamed at Nick and Charlie. “Remember? From the incredible criminal mastermind caper that Amy and I pulled off?”
Nick gave him a disapproving look. “You mean the one that you’re super embarrassed by and for which you will be remorseful for life?”
“Sure, that one!” Danny nodded happily, extending both of his thumbs up at Nick. “Be back!”
Charlie laughed, shaking his head and smiling up at Nick. “Do you want another drink?” Nick just gave him a hazy grin and then kissed him on the cheek, lips lingering next to his ear. Charlie clutched his chest and gasped. “In public, Nicholas? In my good Christian suburbs?”
Nick’s grin grew even broader, then he pulled Charlie in and kissed him deeply, his mouth pressing against Charlie’s again and again. He was a little dizzy when Nick finally let him go. “In public, my love,” Nick confirmed. “Though I would argue this is actually a quite urban neighbourhood.”
Charlie rolled his eyes affectionately, then kissed Nick softly once more before calling over to his friends. He’d never been so deliriously happy and unconfined. “Anyone want a drink?”
“I’ll come with you,” Tao offered, and Darcy nodded in agreement.
The three of them made their way to the bar, which was packed with sweating, shimmering bodies.
“God, it’s hot,” Charlie remarked, pulling at his shirt and fanning himself.
Tao snorted and gestured down to Charlie’s shirt, which he had already rakishly unbuttoned lower than normal (Nick might have contributed to the undoing of a few of those buttons, too). “Looks like you’re down to your last cooling measure, too. You’ve gone beyond a v-neck to a capital-V-neck.”
Darcy and Charlie laughed as they tried to shove their way towards the bartenders. “This is a disaster,” Darcy said, looking at the huddle of bodies. “Time to work my wiles and charms.”
Tao and Charlie both looked over as Darcy shoved towards the bar, making a beeline for a bartender with boobs that were spilling over her top. The bartender’s face lit up as Darcy pushed over, and Charlie snorted with laughter. “Tao, how are you going to use your sensuality to speed our drinks collection?”
Tao gave a little shimmy and shoved his upper arms together against his pecs, producing absolutely zero cleavage. They both looked at his chest and laughed.
“I’ll just push in that spot over there and try my best,” Tao said, pointing. “Are you going to wait in this line or try to move?”
“I’ll try my luck here,” Charlie called back. “Meet you two at the tables?”
Tao shot him a thumbs’ up and darted away while Charlie stayed in his spot, slowly shuffling forward as space cleared. He took his phone out of his pocket as he waited, scrolling through Insta. Danny had tagged Charlie and Nick in a bunch of pictures already, having a proclivity for posting from his private account while still out at events. Charlie scrolled through them and beamed, his chest lighting up with warmth at the glowing expressions on his and Nick’s faces in every picture. God, Charlie was so happy. He reflected on just how wonderful his life was as he moved forward. What was utterly wild is that it was still the same life, in a lot of ways. He was surrounded by different people, yes, but he was the same Charlie. He had the same personality and body and brain as before, but they were all – kinder, somehow. More brilliant. More loved – by Nick, yes. But also loved more… by Charlie.
Charlie smiled softly at that as he inched towards the bar, idly thinking about what the night would hold for him and Nick. Sex was probably off the table with how drunk they were, but maybe they’d be able to–
Charlie’s stomach flipped when he heard a voice that curdled his blood. He turned, hoping it was an auditory hallucination, only to see:
Ben.
Ben Hope.
Ben Hope, standing feet away from him, his wrist locked in… Nick’s hand?
Charlie blinked, trying to clear his eyes. “Nick?” he said, looking at his boyfriend in confusion like Nick might be able to explain it. In an instant, though, his mind solidified into a series of short, manageable statements to break down the baffling sight.
Ben was here. Nick was here. Charlie was safe. Nick was safe. Ben was here, and Charlie doubted that was a coincidence. Ben was here to see Charlie. Charlie did not want to see Ben. Charlie did not have to put up with Ben any more.
Charlie nodded to himself, his shock replaced by a cool sense of confident detachment. He looked at Ben, this spare person who no longer had an impact on his life. “Why are you here?”
Nick released Ben’s wrist and stepped next to Charlie, moving forward when Ben tried to get closer. “I need to talk to you,” Ben said, his eyebrows drawing together in that look of supplication Charlie remembered too well.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Charlie laced his fingers in Nick’s and began to walk away from the bar, back to their friends and back to the life he had built. He was ready to keep walking back into the gorgeous, golden one that didn’t have Ben in it. Nick seemed reluctant to leave for a moment but then turned to walk with Charlie, his hand tense between Charlie’s fingers.
Charlie heard Ben’s cloying, reedy voice call from behind him. “You need to talk to me, Charlie! You owe me that after everything you ruined in my life.”
Charlie almost laughed aloud, realisation blossoming through him in a way unlike when Ben had invaded Lavender Fields. This was a tactic, Charlie realised. This was a menu of options from which Ben selected. This particular move had extra “get Charlie’s attention” points, and that was why Ben had chosen it. He felt grounded and light at the same time, like he was floating above what was happening and could see it all playing out. Nick’s hand twitched in his like Nick wanted to turn and go after Ben, and Charlie squeezed his fingers. Nick looked over, his eyes both worried and angry. Charlie gave him the shadow of a grin, pulsing his hand and trying to tell Nick without words that he had this.
Charlie turned and looked at Ben, raising an eyebrow. “How I ruined your life, got it,” he said casually. “What are some of the things I ruined?”
Ben’s face flashed with confusion, seemingly thrown by Charlie’s unaffected energy. He recovered quickly, though. “For everything. For embarrassing my parents with a cancelled wedding, for turning a bunch of our friends against me, for…” Ben shot a glare at Nick, making Charlie almost laugh again. Ben comparing himself to Nick Nelson in any way was laughable. He looked back at Charlie. “We should talk in private.”
“No,” Charlie said easily as Nick growled out his own dissent.
Charlie watched Ben’s face shift again. In the past, Ben would throw an arrow like just had and Charlie would dodge and wince. Ben would burst forward and Charlie would shrink back. Ben would lunge and Charlie would cower and grovel. He could see Ben’s perplexion that Charlie wasn’t doing any of those things now.
“No?” Ben finally got out, nearly spitting out the word. “But you…” Charlie watched him, the moment nearly feeling like a documentary. He could see Ben searching for the method that would inflict the most damage, entirely unaware that he couldn’t hurt Charlie anymore. “You hurt me, Charlie!” Ben burst out, adding a wounded edge to his voice. In the silence, his eyes darted around before he spoke again. “You left and you broke the engagement. Then after I came to see you at that fucking farm.” Ben glared at Nick as if it had been Nick’s idea to call Ben and beg him to visit Lavender Fields. “You never called me. You never checked in to see how I was doing. You threw three years away.” He looked at Charlie, assembling his face into an expression of inexpressible sadness. “You broke my heart, Charlie.”
Charlie looked curiously at his former life, amazed at the sheer volume of illogic and gaslighting. When he spoke, he kept his voice easy. “Oh, that’s interesting, Ben. Because you messaged me for weeks after you followed me to Lavender Fields, saying how I had never even been important to you and that I was worthless. That I ‘hadn’t been worth the petrol’ of even going there.” Nick stiffened beside him and Charlie ran his thumb along Nick’s finger. I have this, baby. I’m okay and safe, and I know you’re here.
Ben looked at his and Nick’s interlaced hands and his mouth tightened in what Charlie knew was jealousy. He snarled, “I never–”
“I also heard from a bunch of friends – your friends, Ben,” Charlie interrupted. “That you were telling them how glad you were that it was over between us. You know, your mother called me a month ago to see how I was doing.” It was true. Ben’s mum had called Charlie a few times, mostly just asking how he was. “I was surprised to hear from her. Not because she was calling me – she had a few times since everything ended, did you know that? – but because I had forgotten you existed.” Charlie looked frankly at Ben, this man who had been part of his past and didn’t deserve a moment of his present. He had quite literally forgotten about Ben’s experience, and here was Ben, tailing Charlie to a bar. With a flash, Charlie realised that he and Ben were still connected on Insta, with any posts that tagged Charlie visible to his followers. “You said over and over to me and to everyone that you ‘escaped’ from having to marry me. Weird that you’d follow me here. What did you do, look at the pictures Danny posted that I was in and decide to come out and try to accost me?”
Ben’s eyes flashed with rage and Charlie felt Nick tense beside him. “I didn’t – it was coincidence,” Ben snarled out. “I don’t even fucking care about you!”
“That’s weird,” called out Danny, rapidly approaching their small group. “Because you sure look like the same bloke I told off earlier for taking pictures of these two when they were kissing on the dance floor.” Charlie turned his head to look at Ben, who was purpling with incandescent rage. “In fact, I remember offering to shove your phone up your bumhole so you could take a picture of your own colon if you did it again.” Danny grinned at Ben, a threatening leer. “It kind of seems like you do care about these two.”
Ben looked round, as did Charlie. Amy, Seamus, and James had now also come over, gathering beside Nick and Charlie. Ben stepped back just perceptibly. “Well, I fucking don’t.”
Charlie turned to look when he heard a sharp inhale, glancing at Amy’s incredulous face. “Holy fuck.” She took a long pull of her beer and narrowed her gaze on the man in front of them. “Ben Hope,” she said, clear recognition in her voice.
“Wait, Benjamin Hope?” asked Danny, astonished. “Like, Charlie’s ex Benjamin Hope?”
“B. Hope,” muttered Nick angrily, and Charlie almost grinned. One of his several hundred favourite things about Nick was his stubborn refusal to ever speak Ben’s full name.
Danny held his hands up, a delighted and evil smile spreading across his face. “Hold the fuck on,” he said. “Charlie, is this the dropped meat pie you had the misfortune of dating?”
Charlie smiled peaceably. His present and his future were here with his past, and god, his life was immeasurably better. “Yep. He sure is.”
“This guy –this guy was your fiance?”James asked loudly, pointing at Ben and then at himself and Danny. “This guy’s been on Grindr for literal years, he hits us up all the time.”
Charlie gave an unaffected shrug, not surprised. Nick, on the other hand, sounded astonished as he turned to James. “Wait – I thought Grindr was for, like, hookups and stuff. How would you…” Charlie suppressed a smile as he squeezed Nick’s hand again. His sweet, pure boy.
Danny smiled beatifically and tipped his beer towards Nick. “Sometimes we like to find a cheeky third.” James mumbled something and blushed, while Amy laughed and cheersed Danny for his naughtiness.
Nick looked gobsmacked. “I, uh…”
Danny patted Nick on the cheek. “It’s okay, angel, that’s not something for you.” He turned back to face Ben. “So why are you taking pictures of Nick and Charlie, then?” His tone was both cheerful and dangerous. “Still obsessed with Charlie, I’m guessing? I get it, you walking open sore. You were a fucking dick to one of the most magical men in the world and now you get to see him happy, now that he’s finally gone from your dunny stench.”
Ben’s mouth tightened again as he looked at Charlie before turning back to Danny. “I’m not obsessed,” he snapped. “I don’t even care about him. Them.”
Danny winked. “Your photo reel says otherwise.”
Charlie could see the anger etched on Ben’s face as he looked around, a dangerous combination of aggression and wariness. He stepped closer and lowered his voice so that just Nick and Charlie could hear him. “I saw that article about the two of you. About you holding hands at a fucking rugby match.” A sharp blade of anger and fear pierced Charlie’s torso. Ben could say what he wanted about Charlie. He knew those words were bluster and useless. But Nick… the picture of Nick kissing his gloved hand was one thing, something that wasn’t conclusive. A picture of them touching their lips together in public wouldn’t produce articles that had a question mark in their headlines. Those headlines would be statements, cold affirmations that tore away Nick’s agency in controlling the narrative of his own life. “You’d better be careful,” Ben intoned, the poison clear in his voice. “Don’t want to get exposed.”
Charlie’s heart thumped in his chest as he tried to regain his footing, but someone else spoke first.
“Ben?” an unsure-sounding voice asked. “What’s… I didn’t know you were going to be here.” They all turned to see a slender blonde man walking over cautiously. He appeared both apologetic and shy, and Charlie’s stomach twisted at the aching familiarity. “I thought you said you weren’t going out tonight?” The man eyed the group. “Is everything… okay?”
Danny responded first, smiling reassuringly at the new addition. “Just fine, mate, all good. What’s your name, chief?”
“Matty,” he replied cautiously, eyes darting around to look at everyone.
“Matty,” Amy nodded, her tone light. “Great name, I love it. Tell me champ, how do you know Ben Hope here?”
Matty glanced at Ben, and Charlie’s heart broke at the expression on his face. In an instant, Charlie time-travelled back to four years ago, when Ben was hiding him and he never knew what to say. “Oh,” Matty said timidly, his eyes still flickering at Ben. “Uh – we’ve been…”
Danny gave Matty a quick pat on the shoulder. “It’s all right, mate, we’re as queer as a Golden Gaytime here. Are you two dating?”
“Yes?” Matty said it as a question, the same anxious search for permission that Charlie had sought for so long.
“How long have you two been hanging out then?” asked Amy.
“I’m not sure…” Matty looked nervously at Ben again, and Charlie wanted to embrace him. “Like… eight or nine months?”
Charlie kept his face neutral, unsurprised. He knew that Ben had been cheating on him, but it had been with faceless men, ideas instead of reality. Now, one of those men was here next to him, and all Charlie felt was empathy. Amy was less neutral, growling and causing Matty to jump back.
“Oh, sorry babes,” she said to Matty reassuringly, though still glowering. “That sound of pure rage and anger at the absolute audacity of some men wasn’t directed at you.”
Meanwhile, Danny was grinning and nodding. “Eight months you say?” He turned to James. “Darling, did you happen to bring our 12-month wall calendar with us to the club?”
“Danny,” Nick said, the first time he had spoken in a few minutes. He looked down at Charlie, who returned with a reassuring look. It was okay. He was okay. They were okay. Charlie gave Danny a small nod.
Danny winked and waved a finger. “Now then, Nick. The dildo of consequence rarely arrives lubed, you know.” Charlie snorted and Danny turned to Matty. “So did your beau over here invite you to his wedding? I mean, you two had been dating for three or four months at that point.” Matty was utterly taken aback and a bit of Charlie’s delight faded. Matty didn’t deserve this. He deserved so much better than he was getting.
Matty’s face was bloodless when he spoke. “His… what?”
“His wedding,” Amy repeated. “The one where he was going to get married to this guy – oh, this is Charlie, Matty, he is truly a delight – literally five months ago.”
Matty looked at Ben, who was radiating with rage. “You were… you were engaged? While we were together?”
“He was, Matty. To me,” Charlie said, giving Nick’s hand one last pulse before stepping forward. He looked at Ben for a moment, disgusted by his casual indifference for other people and for what true affection was. “We were together for three years, we just broke up at the end of September.”
“The end of September…” Matty repeated faintly.
Charlie stepped closer again, looking at Matty. His sad eyes could have belonged to Charlie just a few years before. Charlie kept his voice quiet, both kind and firm. “You deserve better than him. I’m sure he’s tried to make you believe you weren’t worthy of being with him. Fuck, he probably told you that you weren’t with him, that it was just a little fun and you were taking it way too seriously.” Charlie could see the cracking of Matty’s heart, and he again fought the urge to bundle him into a hug. “You deserve more than he’s giving you,” Charlie said again. He stepped back and took Nick’s hand. “I know I did.”
Matty’s eyes glittered with emotion. He gave a short nod and then looked at Ben, shock and reproach on his face.
“Hang with us tonight if you want, mate,” James said to Matty encouragingly. “We’ll all make sure you get home safe and not bothered by this fuck.” He directed that last part to Ben, who was already trying to slink away.
“Oh, leaving so soon sweetheart?” Danny called. “That’s probably a good call. With all of us here, there’s no chance you’re getting shagged tonight. Your best chance for being inside someone is as an organ donor, so taking off is probably your best bet.”
Ben shot the group a look of anger, one that Charlie knew masked his deep insecurity and shame. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked towards the exit.
“Ah, bless him,” said Amy. “Talk about a person who should have been a blowjob.”
The rest of the group made their way off to give Charlie some privacy after checking on him and Nick, heading back towards the bar. Charlie looked at Nick for a moment and then pulled him in for a quick kiss before whispering that he’d be right back.
“Hey,” Charlie said to Matty, who still looked shell-shocked. “How are you doing?”
Matty laughed, though it was humourless. “Um – god. I don’t even know. This isn’t…” He sighed and Charlie saw the agonising disappointment on his face, that shattered hope that Charlie experienced so many times with Ben. “I should have known, yeah?”
Charlie shook his head. “No. This is not on you, okay? You should never have known, because no one should do that to other people. You didn’t make him do this. You didn’t make him be a dick. You didn’t make him treat you like that. He chose to.”
Matty nodded, his shoulder still slumped. “Yeah. I guess. I just…”
“I know,” Charlie said softly. “He also made you feel wanted, right? At least sometimes – when he felt like it. And only when no one else could see it.”
“Yeah,” Matty replied again, his tone low.
“But then he’d take it away again,” Charlie said, and Matty nodded numbly. “That’s not what a partnership is about. It’s never about earning affection or earning kindness or earning love. It’s someone where the rules are always the same. It’s being with someone who sees you for who you are, no matter where you are or who you’re with. It’s about being on the same team.”
Matty gave a sad smile. “That’s a nice thing to believe in. But I’m not sure it’s real.”
Charlie looked at Nick, the beautiful soul who helped shine a light on his soul. He looked at Amy, James, and Danny, the friends who pulled him in and welcomed him aggressively. He looked at Elle and Tao and Darcy and Tara, who had supported and loved him through so many phases of life. “It is, Matty,” he said gently. “It’s real. It’s possible.” He squeezed Matty’s shoulder. “You’ll find it. And you’ll meet someone who doesn’t change the rules on you. When you do…” Charlie looked at his boyfriend once more, throat tightening with emotion. “When you do, god. You’ll feel what it’s like to not have to earn love, but to share it.”
Matty glanced at Nick, then back at Charlie, a weak smile flickering onto his face. “Your boyfriend seems really sweet.”
“He is,” Charlie agreed. “Will you join all of us for a bit tonight?”
Matty gave a half-hearted shrug, but nodded. Charlie glanced up at the girls, who immediately swarmed around Matty, Amy taking him by the arm.
Charlie made his way back to Nick, sighing and leaning into his chest.
“Fuck, Charlie,” said Nick, shaking his head. “That was… wow. Are you all right?”
Charlie took a moment to consider, slowly nodding. “I am, Nick.” He looked at his love. “A month ago, I might not have been. But now…” Charlie looked at Nick, who helped reopen his heart. “But I’ve realised what I deserve, and it’s to not give a single second more of energy to people like Ben.”
“That’s….” Nick struggled with words for a moment, his eyes never leaving Charlie’s. He finally smiled tremulously and ran his thumb along Charlie’s cheekbone. “You’re amazing,” Nick said. “The way you stood up to him and called him on his bullshit – you’re a fucking wonder.”
Charlie smiled, though there was a bitter edge to it. He’d needed to do so much healing to return from the places where Ben sent him, the dark and lonely ones. He hated that someone like Matty would need to do the same. Still, in this moment, Charlie could focus on the light. “So much has changed, Nick,” he said, looking at Nick and then around at their friends. “I know earlier I said I was still getting used to how open you are about how you feel for me, and that’s true, though it’s changed a lot. But I have gotten used to what I say mattering to someone.” He touched Nick’s chest, where the heart he loved beat beneath the surface. “You make me feel like I matter. He doesn’t. Why would I let someone like that matter to me any more?”
Nick looked at him for a long, quivering moment, then pulled him in tightly. They swayed together before returning to their group, who welcomed them with hugs and check-ins and drinks. With his friends and with his love, Charlie quickly shook off the pall of Ben’s presence and filled his vision with kindness, laughter, and dancing again. He didn’t even think of Ben again until they left the club, a few haggard-looking photogs hanging about.
A few bulbs flashed as he and Nick went out arm-in-arm, and Charlie’s heart seized along with them. “Fuck,” he breathed, looking at Nick. “I wonder if Ben told them that we were here – that you were here.”
Nick didn’t look worried at all. He just grinned and kissed the side of Charlie’s head. “Then we’ll have to send him a thank-you card. This will be our first set of professional pictures together.”
Charlie needed a moment to parse just how confident and amazing his boyfriend was before he settled into a broad smile. “I guess they will be.”
Nick pulled him close and kissed him, lips soft and unhurried. The photographs that came out on some of the blogs went up in the living room of Nick and Charlie’s new flat, surrounded by endless other pictures of them, their friends, and their life together. They’d sent a thank you card to Ben to appreciate his work in their first published photograph, but strangely, they’d never heard back.
-
Life with Nick was just like it was before – easy, warm, and light. Nick – of course – suggested that they keep Charlie’s flat in London. And by “they”, that meant that Nick paid for it, insisting that it was a good investment so they didn’t need to spend money on a hotel whenever they visited. It was truly terrible financial logic, but Charlie eventually went with it after some extremely naughty persuasion from Nick. The flat letting company was more than happy to keep Charlie as a tenant, praising how quiet and respectful he’d been for all of the months that he’d “stayed” there.
Elle and Tao visited Leeds often, and Nick and Charlie made it down to London for matches together. Charlie also visited London often on his own, spending time with Anita and his other friends when Nick was travelling. In Leeds, he and Nick were surrounded by love and shenanigans in equal measure, their new flat regrettably close to James and Danny’s place, as well as Amy and Seamus’s. Charlie never thought he’d get past the shock and hilarity of Danny buzzing his and Nick’s flat at least once a week, always with a different (terrible) celebrity impersonation.
The months passed, with milestones quietly passing by as well. Nick charmed Charlie’s mum and dad when he first met them, the power of his conversational prowess enough to dislodge the sticks from their bums when they found out that Nick and Charlie were living together. Olly had been nothing short of delighted, and almost cried when Nick presented him with his own, personalised Badgers kit. Charlie met Nick’s family, too – Sarah, of course, but also Nick’s aunt and his infamous brother. The Badgers had a brilliant season, and Nick was named “New Coach of the Year” as chosen by the league.
Their life together was a satisfying combination of large and small moments. They had weekends and trips and nights cooking. Nick and Charlie basked in the sunshine during free afternoons and walked hand in hand through the rain to the shops to make dinner. They spoke together everyday and each evening, about nothing and everything. So often, their conversations turned to Lavender Fields, where their story had begun.
“Hey,” Nick said one evening, a few months after they’d settled into Leeds. “Would you have any interest in spending part of the bye week at Lavender Fields?”
Charlie hadn’t been able to respond immediately, his throat too choked with happy emotion to speak. He’d just nodded and they’d planned from there, coupling a trip in April with their visit to Charlie’s family.
The trip to Lavender Fields had left both Nick and Charlie feeling as though they’d been dipped in a warm pool, one that soothed their bodies and hearts. Both of them spoke about how magical it had been for several days before Charlie finally came to terms with how being there had made him feel. The brief visit had only stoked Charlie’s love for the inn and its warmth, and he missed being there. He missed it being his and Nick’s home.
“Nick,” he’d said a few days after they returned, cooking dinner together in their Leeds flat. “What do you usually do in the summers between seasons?”
“It depends,” Nick said, thinking. “Some years I just lay low and hang around Leeds, others I’ve picked up some work if I’ve felt like it – you know, media appearances and camps and stuff like that. Travel, sometimes, too. Though I’ve honestly done less of that since there’s so much travel during the season and I’m not a 22 year old who only needs a Red Bull and four hours’ sleep, you know?”
Charlie laughed, then settled himself, taking a grounding breath.“What would you think…” More. Charlie could ask for more. “What do you think about us offering to run Lavender Fields for a month this summer? We could stay at the inn and give your mum a break – you know, I know she said she loved that trip that she did, but it sounded like it was a bit long. What if we ran it and she took a break? And who knows, if it did go well maybe we could do it each summer.” He looked at Nick, trying to read his expression. “What do… what do you think?”
Nick seemingly froze for a moment, unmoving and unblinking before he rushed towards Charlie and tackled him into the sofa, kissing his cheeks, forehead, and lips.
“Oh,” said Charlie distantly. “Do you…like that idea?”
Nick shook his head and gazed at Charlie, eyes filled with love. “You perfect, incredible man. You thoughtful, wonderful, incredible human. I love you, I love this idea, and I love the idea of spending the summer together back at Lavender Fields. Let’s call my mum now.”
Nick’s mum had been overjoyed at the prospect, enthusing that she’d love a month off. She’d gone on a tangent about what she might do, referencing a friend named Irving who…
“Irving?” Charlie mouthed at Nick, grinning wickedly.
Nick glared and muted the phone as Sarah chatted on happily. “I swear to you, Charlie, I will open the crumbliest cereal bar I can find on your side of the bed right before you want to go to sleep.”
Charlie snorted to himself as Nick folded his arms and scowled at the phone with the expression of a grumpy toad on his face as Sarah continued to talk. There were so many parts of their life that Charlie couldn’t wait for, but torturing Nick with images of maternal shaggage was one that would never lose its lustre.
-
The day they’d arrived in Lavender Fields for the month, Charlie gasped when Nick pulled up. He’d never seen the inn when the lavender was in bloom and seeing the shimmering waves of purple took his breath away.
“Oh my god, Nick!”
Nick turned and smiled at him. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
They got out of the car and walked to the edge of the field, Charlie still too awed to speak, The sun was beginning to set and he looked over the glowing fields. Golden light silhouetted the edges of the lavender where Nick and Charlie had held each other in the same dappled sunlight months ago. Charlie closed his eyes and thought about the time before, back when he didn’t know what Nick wanted. He thought about the Charlie before, the one who didn’t even know what Charlie wanted. He thought about the Charlie from years ago, the one who didn’t realise that life didn’t need to be a cold slog, searching out moments of brightness. It could be an easier version, one where Charlie still navigated through the darkness, but with the aid of a torch and the warmth of the people in his life.
Charlie took a shaky breath as he looked at the bursting colours, hues that drew from the earth to stretch towards the light. “This is what it can be like…” said Charlie, his voice quiet. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is,” agreed Nick, moving to take Charlie in his arms and holding him from behind. “It can be so beautiful.”
-
Life continued, a collection of moments and memories that combined in a rich weaving he and Nick shared together. The team had visited during that first summer at Lavender Fields, of course, and continued to every summer after. Charlie’s new company was wonderful and the Badgers did well during the season, supported by James as captain and Nick as a coach. The stretch that led up to Danny and James’s wedding was predictably bonkers, Charlie crying with laughter several times after hearing about another utterly batshit idea that Danny had come up with.
Nick and Charlie travelled together. They cooked together. They argued together, on occasion, and always spoke together. They lived their own lives and were their own selves, but together, they were a partnership. They were a pair.
Together, they were more.
Together, they explored what it meant to share a life. Both Nick and Charlie continued to unwrap the layers that covered their most vulnerable selves, sharing the good and the difficult from their pasts with one another. They discovered what it was like to become pawrents when they found a shivering dog under the porch of Lavender Fields, a spotty and adorable puppy they’d named Elvira. They went through the frustration and delight of buying a home in Leeds, of attending weddings and baby showers for their friends, and through the heart-rending shifts of their friends and families retiring or moving or changing.
Together, they had knelt in the fields and proposed to one another, both of them crying and laughing when they discovered that they’d each been planning the same proposal for months. Together, they said their vows with the lavender swaying behind them, promising to be partners for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t any different, in a way. They had committed to each other that from the moment that Charlie had shown up in Leeds. Despite that, there was a special kind of power of saying those promises to one another in front of their loved ones.
When Charlie looked back on that day, he might not have remembered the exact words that he and Nick said to one another, the details of the table settings, or the reason Danny had claimed made it “necessary” to streak through the fields during the reception. What he did remember was the way that he felt. Charlie remembered the way his chest filled with light as he took in his world – the family, friends, and friends who were family that surrounded him and his husband. More than anything, Charlie would always remember the way that Nick’s hand felt in his. Even years later, Nick’s hand slipping into his own brought Charlie immediately back to Lavender Fields, the first time their hands joined. That had been a private moment that was just for them amidst a sea of love, and as they took each other’s hand on their wedding day, Charlie returned to that moment. They were surrounded by an ocean of support and community, and among it all, they had each other.
They had love.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Charlie drove home as quickly as was passably legal. It nearly killed him to not open the package at the publishing house, but he knew that opening it was something that Nick should get to share in. Charlie pulled in the drive, grinning at the sight of Nick on the porch, his still-massive arms crossed against the cold. Charlie threw the package into his rucksack, tumbled out of the car, and hurried up to the porch, pressing himself into Nick's arms.
Charlie could hear the smile in his husband’s voice. “What’s making you look especially smiley and beautiful today?”
Charlie smiled and drew back, kissing Nick before shifting the rucksack to his chest and hugging it. “It’s here.”
Nick cocked his head. “What is?”
“The book!” Charlie exclaimed, laughing with anticipation.
“The book…” Nick repeated before his eyebrows shot up and he made a grab for Charlie’s bag. “Oh my god!”
“Come on, let’s look at it inside together,” Charlie said, hugging the rucksack against his chest. “I had them wrap it so I couldn’t peek at it without you and it’s killing me!”
They went to the dining room table and Charlie slowly drew the package out. It was rectangular, wrapped in a deep blue paper. He slowly turned it over in his hands before undoing the paper, feeling how Nick was about ready to burst beside him. Charlie lifted the flap of paper to look at the cover and he and Nick both gasped when they saw it.
“It’s…” Nick’s voice was awed and thick with emotion. “Oh my god.” He reached towards the book and then stopped, as if it was too intimidating to touch.
Charlie shook his head and tried to blink away the tears before looking at Nick. “Wow. I can’t believe…”
Nick nodded and wrapped an arm around him. “I know. It’s amazing that it’s finally here. It’s finally done.”
Charlie reverently touched the spine of the book – his book. “I just can’t believe it even happened.” He looked up when he felt Nick’s gentle hand on his cheek.
“I can,” Nick said simply. “I can believe it happened. Because you are amazing.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Charlie’s head, following each sentence with a touch of his lips. “You are creative. You are endlessly talented. And you wrote a fucking novel, sweetChar-t. You wrote a book!”
Charlie smiled, not even pretending to be annoyed at the pet name. “I did,” he said quietly. “I did write a book.”
Getting here had been an interesting journey. For months after the confrontation with Ben at the bar, Charlie had thought about the modicum of sadness that had followed him. It wasn't sadness for himself, though Charlie knew that existed within him. He was sad for the younger Charlie, the one who hadn't realised what he could ask for in life. The sadness that he felt was for people like Matty, the ones who hadn't yet been able to discover that light within themselves because of other people or situations or society keeping them in the dark. Charlie reflected on people who hadn't realised that they were able to ask for more. He thought about those who experienced what they were told was love, not knowing that something else could be out there.
Charlie remembered that conversation with Matty, the one where Matty had said a love like the one Charlie had described sounded nice as a story. Charlie had thought about that for a long time. He had struggled with it because he knew that the love story he and Nick shared might be unique, a bit of a fairytale romance. What was hidden in their story, though, was the love story that existed for each of themselves. Nick had existed under the bounds of what he had been taught about sexuality – that it was black or white, A or B, a binary. He’d needed to explore and allow himself the freedom to stretch and adjust and expand to take the shape of who he truly was. And god, Charlie was so awed Nick had done that. Nick, conversely, pointed out repeatedly to Charlie just how powerful Charlie was. That was the word Nick always used – powerful. Nick had told Charlie again and again how inspired he was to see how Charlie drew on his own power and his own strength to rebirth himself like a phoenix after Ben.
What led both of them to be able to experience the love they shared was the love that they were able to find for themselves. Both he and Nick had gone through such intense journeys of realisation and healing, unlearning things that they had been told and come to believe for many years. Charlie flipped over the book and traced his fingers on the cover, looking at the embossed words.
More: A Love Story
By Charles Nelson-Spring
Charlie had wanted to write their story not only as a testament to the incredible love that they shared, but also as a story of the healing that can lead to love. It was a love story, yes, but it was a love story for each of themselves as much for one another. It was both. It was more.
-
When it came time to replace the wooden sign on the front of the inn a few years later, Nick and Charlie had first planned on putting up an identical one, just painted fresh. But after they considered it, they decided to make it their own, reflecting their lives and the farm in the new sign. Nick carefully hung the sign on the hook and stepped back. The sign swayed gently in the soft breeze, the gold letters exactly matching the font of Charlie’s book cover.
Lavender Fields Forever
Nick moved to stand next to Charlie and they linked their hands, hands that had taken each others’ for a decade now. There were sounds coming from inside the house and beyond its walls, the calls and murmurs of the life that they’d built around themselves.
Nick squeezed Charlie’s hand and nodded his head towards the sign. “What do you think?”
Charlie leaned his head from side to side, feigning hesitancy. “I mean, ‘forever’? I’m still on the fence about you, I still think we should have gone for ‘Lavender Fields For Nowsies.”
Nick laughed, a beautiful sound that Charlie would never tire of. “Too many letters. Too expensive.”
“Trying to cut corners again,” Charlie groused, then looked up at Nick and smiled. He pressed himself closer to his husband’s body and looked at the sign again. “I love it.”
“I do, too,” Nick said softly, kissing Charlie’s head.
Charlie closed his eyes and let love wash over him. Love for Nick. Love for their life together. Love for the flowers that bloomed every year, bright hues of renewal springing from where they were rooted. Together, he and Nick had built a house, a home, and a life together. They’d build themselves together, too – a continual evolution that kept the cores of who they were the same while making room for growth.
He opened his eyes but stayed close to Nick, allowing his gaze to sweep over the fields that were bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. With so many days spent on a computer polishing his words, Charlie always loved to “stretch” his eyes by looking at the farthest points of the property that he could. Tonight, he saw the swallows dancing and wheeling over the gazebo, darting up and down as they called to one another. His eyes slowly made their way to the edge of the woods, where a pink sky glowed between ghostly, dark outlines of trees.
All of this was theirs.
It was theirs, and not in the sense of Nick and Charlie owning the farm. More so, it made Charlie reflect on the incredible expansiveness that existed in his life since they had met. He’s spent decades compressing himself, trying to shove into boxes of expectation or acceptance. For so long, Charlie had felt as though wanting to take up space was either selfish or stole from others. Over the last decade, Charlie had learned that it was just the opposite. He and Nick had expanded, both geographically and in terms of their farm animals (though never with any goats).
As they did, so did the ripples of the life they lived together. They had more friends now – in London, Leeds, and Kent. They had more hilarity, often overwhelmingly so in any group chats with Danny in them. They had more beautiful nights on their porch, hands holding one another's as the warm colours of the sunset spread across the sky and the birds sang just for them. Standing here now, Charlie revelled in how he no longer felt hemmed in, his growth limited by someone else’s ego or the boundaries placed by his own mind. Together, he and Nick supported one another’s evolution in a way that opened up more space rather than limiting it, simply by supporting one another in doing so.
Charlie snuggled closer to the love of his life, making space for the peace of the moment to temporarily pause the world. “It’s really perfect,” he said, thinking of so many things. The idea of perfection was relative, of course. Nothing could be entirely flawless, but there was perfection that could exist for someone. That was what Charlie and Nick had found, their personal heaven where they both had everything they needed, as well as the space to keep growing.
They had enough. But together, as their life blossomed and spread, they’d always have more love.
Notes:
This is a recipe called “Goodbye Cake”, but we’ll change it to “See You Soon and Also I Love You and I Promise I Won’t Disappear Cake”. It’s a lot wordier of a title, so no wonder they shortened it. I love you all 💜
Cake ingredients:
1 1/2 cups cake/pastry flour
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened at room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 eggs at room temperature
4 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup undiluted evaporated milkPreheat your oven to 325 F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round cake pans.
Sift together the flours, baking powder and salt. In an electric mixer, cream (heh) the butter and sugar together until they’re fluffy. Add the eggs to the butter/sugar one at a time, beating well between eggs. Beat in the vanilla. Alternatively add in the dry ingredients and the evaporated milk, starting and ending with the dry ingredients.
Divide the batter into the two cake pans, and bake for 35-40 minutes. Let the cakes cool completely on a wire rack before frosting.
Frosting:
8 ounces bittersweet or semisweet, chopped
1/4 cup cocoa powder
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3 cups icing sugar, sifted
1 1/2 teaspoons vanillaSet a saucepan of water to a simmer on the stove. Place a stainless steel bowl on top of the simmering pan and add the chocolate, cocoa, milt, and butter. Stir until the chocolate has melted and the mixture is smooth. Remove from heat and beat in the confectioners sugar and vanilla extract (you can use an electric mixer or a whisk). Cover and place the frosting in the fridge for 2 hours. Once the frosting is firm, remove it from the refrigerator. Beat the frosting for a minute or two or until it is nice and smooth and of spreading consistency.
In cake, like in life – you’re allowed to have more.
Chapter 61: Deleted Scenes from Lavender Fields: Part I of III
Summary:
Okay, they're not *really* deleted scenes. But they are new scenes that I've been writing each week as the Lavender Fields Book Club does a re-read! I am drowning in work and miss you all and am looking forward to having a LOT more writing time starting in mid-May. Parts two and three will come in the next few weeks/months, as I'm only able to write one a week right now.
Chapter Text
Chapter 1 (Guests - Nick’s POV)
Nick shook his head and looked at his phone, already grinning. He had nearly forgotten that the Badgers had played in a match on Thursday that week instead of their normal Saturday slot. That of course meant that certain members of the team had certain amounts of free time that day to call (harass) certain former teammates. “Hello, Dolly.”
Even through the phone it was clear that Danny was beaming. “Dolly? Like Dolly Parton? Oh, Nicky, I am clutching my plump and perfect breasts right now and ‘do declare’ that I’m swooning.”
Nick laughed. “How’s it?”
“It being my penis? Oh, fantastic, Nick, just fantastic; thanks for asking. Actually, you know what – I should get a second opinion. JAMES!” Nick jumped and swore, pulling the phone away from his ear as Danny’s already-loud voice trebled in volume. “James, give my dick a score for the week.”
Nick could just hear James’s reply. “Nearly a seven, I’d say.”
Danny gasped. “A seven?! Out of what, six?”
“I said nearly a seven,” James interjected. “Because I’d give it a six point nine.”
Nick laughed, though the sound was lost in Danny’s loud guffawing through the phone. “Six point nine! Get it, Nick?!” Danny demanded. “Like –”
“Like sixty-nine?” Nick finished.
“You’re a genius,” Danny said soberly. “How’s life at Lavvy fields?”
“Every time you say that, I think of a lavatory.”
“You filthy Pommie with your terrible vocabulary. Lavatory,” Danny repeated with a snort. “Use distinguished language to describe the old whiz palace, please.”
“Ah, yes, remind me?”
“The loo,” Danny replied firmly. “Dunny. Bog. Thunderbox. Place to go when you’ve got a 20-centimeter grip on a 25-centimeter turd. Shitter.”
“The shitter,” Nick repeated, barely suppressing his laugh at Danny’s wonderfully incoherent answer. “You’re right, much classier.”
“Speaking of classy and assy, how’s your love life?”
Nick huffed out a laugh. Danny was by far more invested in Nick’s romantic life (or lack thereof) than he was. Nick had been single for a while now, but honestly, he was fine with it. He really was. There was so much going on – his breakup with Marla a year ago, the transition from rugby, moving to Lavender Fields for a year and having the closest females all be bovine – that he hadn't even thought about dating.
Well, not really.
As Danny chattered on and the two of them volleyed back and forth, part of Nick’s mind recalled the time he’d spent with Danny and James. At the stadium, they both kept it fairly professional, though Nick knew it nearly dissolved the cellular bonds of Danny’s cells with the strain of doing so. Off the pitch and at home, the two of them were endlessly intertwined – both physically and emotionally. Even on the phone now, Nick could feel the soft ache in his chest as he thought about what that type of partnership looked like. It wasn’t jealousy that he felt, but more like a nostalgia for something he’d never actually experienced. Nick swallowed back the odd feeling and refocused on the conversation, he and Danny both making plans for when the Badgers were all visiting in a few weeks.
“And we’re going to bake things and and I’d like to pet the cows of course – oh, and then if there’s snow you have to promise we’ll make snow angels and– what’s that, my delightful dewlap?” Danny cut himself off and this time Nick couldn’t make out what he presumed James was saying. Danny came back on the line with a sigh. “Nicky nuts, I have to go. The love of my life reminded me that I have to complete that league media training that might be overdue.”
“Ugh,” Nick commiserated. “I hated those. Always the same, always terrible.”
“As useful as a knitted condom,” Danny agreed. “Love you more than people inexplicably love the self-made waffles in American hotel chains.”
Nick laughed. “Love you like a yoghurt container on an international flight loves to explode.”
Danny made a kissing noise and hung up, and Nick grinned once more at the screen before setting his phone down. He was fine being single, truly. He had the inn to run, the Badgers visiting soon, and the promise of coaching around the corner. He was fine with it.
He really was.
Chapter 3/33 (Mess - Charlie’s POV)
Charlie walked around London all the time, but it rarely felt like this.
Some of the differences were overt, of course. London had a reprehensible lack of sheep compared to the farmlands around Lavender Fields, and Charlie had yet to smell the delicate je ne sais quoi of the delicious smells of restaurants and street side vendors mixed with urine, but that wasn’t all. It was… Well, it was Nick.
Charlie and Nick were walking next to each other on the narrow road as they made their way back to the inn. Charlie had been surprised when Nick had invited him to go on a walk at all, especially after he’d been such a pathetic, snivelling excuse of a guest. From how morose and annoying Charlie had been, he would have expected that Nick would avoid him at all costs. Instead, Nick had both invited him to go on this walk, and Nick had been there, waiting in the kitchen, at the exact time he had told Charlie. Nick suggested a plan, and Nick had followed through on those plans, not snatching them away from Charlie at the last moment.
That was nice.
What was even more nice, and perhaps the biggest difference from walking around London, was how genuinely fun it had been. Nick led Charlie through the rolling hills around Lavender Fields, pointing out neighbours and telling amazing stories about each of them. Even in the weak autumn light and muddled, dull colours of the season, Charlie had been taken by the beauty of where he was. He and Nick walked along old stone roads, stubborn and optimistic green plants growing in between the cracks of the rocks and even pushing some of them aside. The houses and farms they passed were gloriously spaced out from one another, and all of the fields were dotted with the fuzzy bodies of farm animals.
Nick had, of course, made a truly unfathomable amount of puns. Seriously, Charlie wondered if it was some faulty wiring in Nick’s DNA that allowed him to be both so unreasonably fit and so deeply cursed with the inability to go more than a few minutes without wordplay. He supposed that the universe to balance – such a perfect man had to have some sort of weakness. Then again, though, in addition to being hot and fit and sweet and kind and hot, he was also funny. Charlie thought he’d never forget Nick’s emphatic, haunted-eye stare when he proclaimed that goats are assholes, Charlie.
The walk back to Lavender Fields was as gentle and lovely as the way there. Nick was just – well, he was easy to be around. Then there were those small things, these tiny moments with Nick that just felt different. And they really were small things. As they walked and spoke, Charlie tried to put his finger on something niggling in his brain, some oddity that he couldn’t quite place. After a few minutes, he realised what it was – it was the fact that Nick responded to everything Charlie said.
No matter how stupid a question he asked or how inane something that he pointed out was, Nick responded to it.
I love the turret on that house – if I lived there, I feel like I would spend all of my disposable income on decorating for Christmas.
“Oh, they do! It’s incredible, really. Last year they took these fairy light garlands and draped them around all of the windows. I always drove past here to mum’s even though it was a little out of the way just because I thought it looked a little like magic, you know?”
Those sheep are so cute! Oh my god. I bet sheep babies are almost nauseatingly adorable when they’re born. What are baby sheep called?
“Sheeplets. Stop laughing, Charlie, I am a very professional farmer slash bed and breakfast proprietor and I took the very official Bed and Breakfast National Proprietor Test and that was actually question thirty four.”
It’s a nice view from this hill.
“It really is, isn’t it?”
It was amazing how such a tiny thing, words back to Charlie’s words and his presence, felt like a balm. As Charlie and Nick neared Lavender Fields, took a deep breath and tried to pull that feeling into his lungs. To be heard, even by a near-stranger, to be seen –
Well, that was nice, too.
Chapter 4/34 (Visitors: Nick’s POV)
Nick walked back up and into the house, loose thoughts eddying around his mind as he did. Each thought felt like a roiling mist – robust and palpable, but something he couldn’t actually catch and hold. He replayed the words that Elle had said about Charlie, and about that ratty little twit B. Hope.
He made Charlie feel like he was lucky to get to be with him.
Nick’s brow furrowed as he entered the front door of Lavender Fields and into the warmth of the dining room. He hadn’t known Charlie for very long, of course, but it was already abundantly clear what an amazing person Charlie was. Even with the terrible things that were happening to him, he could see Charlie’s brilliance. In their conversations, Nick picked up instantly on how intelligent Charlie was. That was evident in his words, yes, but something about his eyes, maybe. Yes, that was it. There was something captivating about Charlie’s eyes, and now Nick thought that it was probably the way that Charlie looked at everything around him thoughtfully.
That thoughtfulness was clearly a deep part of who Charlie was. Nick could nearly taste on the air the way Charlie would pause and consider his words, taking in something Nick had said, done, or offered to him. Some of that made Nick feel a little guttingly hollow, especially after the conversation with Elle. He had the gutting sense that Charlie had needed to consider his actions and reactions with B. Hope, especially if he made Charlie feel like he wasn’t enough.
Not enough.
The idea that Charlie wouldn’t be enough anything was absurd. Charlie was intelligent, yes, and thoughtful, but he was also sneakily hilarious. Nick had loved the glimpses of cheeky Charlie that he’d gotten to see already – those bright, phoenix flashes of light that lit up his face. Yes, those were often poking fun of Nick, but that made it even better. Nick grinned as he replayed some of what he thought of as Charlie’s top hits, recalling what he’d said about alpacas and the portrait people. Smart, funny, and those thoughtful eyes… well, his ex was clearly a piece of shit. Nick imagined B. Hope now, picturing him in a top hat and tails like an 1800s newspaper magnate, stroking a thin mustache and thinking about how to best crush the newsboys who were petitioning for more rights. Anyone who didn’t see Charlie for the incredible man he was had to be something akin to a cartoon villain.
Nick continued to muse on his conversation with Elle as he put away the dishes and unnecessarily organised the already-neatened kitchen. The house was empty, Charlie and his tall, scary friend clearly out of the house. It was amazing how quickly Nick had gotten used to having the sounds of someone else around. He thought about that a little more as he opened the pantry to rearrange some of the dry goods.
Nick had spent the majority of his late teens and early twenties living with teammates, the house always loud and raucous. He lived alone for a bit, but then had moved in with Marla. Life with Marla hadn’t been raucous, but it had been comfortable and filled with the soft sounds of domesticity — the television on, the clink of dishes being put away, the turn of a page when Marla read.
Nick frowned slightly and paused in his arranging to reflect on how quiet it had been before Charlie arrived. His life at Lavender Fields had been quiet for a few weeks, with few guests and stretches where it was just him and the cows. Nick had gotten used to the quiet, but now that Charlie arrived… well, it was nice to have someone else there. He liked knowing that the creak of a floorboard meant Charlie was stepping across the wooden floors in his room, Nick able to picture his socked feet. Charlie had such a fun collection of socks, he’d noticed. Nick liked the soft murmur of Charlie’s voice as he took video calls, comforted in some evolutionary way to have another person around.
Maybe Nick hadn’t realised that the weeks without anyone else there had taken a toll. Being solo in a house in the country could feel isolating, and Charlie had made him feel less isolated. Nick supposed it was like that with all long-term guests, but maybe… maybe a little more so with Charlie, with them being around the same age and clearly having a similar sense of humor.
Nick shut the door to the pantry with a little start, realising how lost in his head he was. Enough musing for today. Nick pulled out a cookbook and began to flip through, already creating a list of preparations for the next few days of guests. As he did, his brain settled, the swirling thoughts settling like a fine mist on grass, quietly drifting out of sight and disappearing from view.
Chapter 5/35 (Jolt : Charlie POV)
Charlie drove in silence, gripping the wheel as though he could squeeze comfort out of the steering wheel. He was only about twenty minutes away from Lavender Fields, but it might have been a lifetime. The inn had been an escape, and for a few days, Charlie had nearly forgotten that the rest of the world existed. Things like work stresses, sharp-toned messages from his mother, and reminders of Ben had felt small and far away, nuisances rather than nets that made him feel trapped.
At Lavender Fields, Charlie had nearly felt free.
Maybe that was why Charlie hadn’t put on music for the ride back to London. It seemed too celebratory to have music on as he left and as the inn shrank until it disappeared round a turn. As he drove, Charlie’s mind drifted to the ride into town that he and Nick had shared. The truck was laden with sweet-smelling parcels, goods that Nick was dropping off at the nearby businesses. The air was perfumed with flowers, music floating between Charlie and Nick. Charlie hadn’t really gotten to enjoy the music, though, as Nick had been eagerly telling him all about rugby.
“Right, you get it! So, yes, there are the forwards and the backs, and–”
“And you were a back? Even though your position, like… scores a lot?” Charlie interrupted, trying to follow along.
“Right,” Nick replied, flashing a smile at Charlie that unravelled a few of the neurons in his brain. “I was the fly-half. It’s a bit different in rugby than football, where the forwards usually do the scoring. The forwards in rugby are the big lads, and they’re generally in charge of getting possession of the ball.” Charlie’s eyes flickered to Nick’s arms, imagining the massive biceps under his sleeves. The idea that there would be a man more massive than Nick was truly astounding. “The forwards are the ones in the scrums, where the backs stay out except for the scrum-half, who–”
“Scrum?” asked Charlie, giggling. “That sounds so… scrotal.”
Nick laughed. “Well, and Danny is our scrum half. The amount of times I have heard him say something about ‘scrot-scrum’ is, well…” Nick shook his head and smiled fondly. “More than anyone should hear in a lifetime, really.”
Charlie laughed again. “Okay, so scrums are where all the people are, like…” he struggled to find the right words, drawing his hands together with his fingers wide. “Like… in a group?”
“Sometimes,” Nick said, his tone friendly and easy in a way that made Charlie feel entirely at ease and not like a nuisance for asking questions. “But there are also mauls, where you’re standing and binding onto the ball carrier, or rucks, where you’re using your feet.”
“Mauls? Rucks?” Charlie repeated, shaking his head and snorting. “Why is everything in rugby so vaguely anatomical?”
Nick laughed. “You haven’t heard anything until your coach is shouting, ‘the loose head’s bind isn’t tight enough!’, or talking about a scrum screwing ninety degrees.”
Charlie dissolved into giggles. “These can’t be real!”
“They are!” Nick insisted, grinning at Charlie before returning his eyes to the road. “One time I heard the announcer say that ‘the winger’s been coming inside his man all afternoon’.” He snickered. “Danny had a field day with that one.”
Now, in the car driving home to London, Charlie smiled at the memory. His time with Nick had truly been wonderful. Rather – his time at Lavender Fields had been wonderful. Nick had been a part of that. Charlie had specifically sought out a place that would be idyllic and peaceful for his and Ben’s mini moon, and that’s what he’d been expecting – a true departure from London. Before everything fell apart and Charlie had pictured it as a mini moon for him and Ben together, he’d mused that the farm would be nearly silent, far away from the hubbub and horns of London.
He’d expected that, but it hadn’t actually been like that at Lavender Fields. There was always a hum of activity, though it was gentle and different from the sounds of London. It was the soft lowing of the cows in the pasture, or the crackle of the fire in the parlour. It was Nick’s warm, friendly voice in the truck, the quiet music that played as they drove, the laughter that punctuated Charlie and Nick’s conversation. London was noisy, but that noise sometimes felt… empty.
That was it, Charlie thought with a start, jolting out of his reverie. That was one of the things that he would miss the most. Lavender Fields had been quietly loud, and London was loudly quiet. In the billowing silence, Charlie reached over and turned on the radio, filling the car with sound as he drove back to the life he knew before Lavender Fields.
Chapter 6/16 (Choice : Nick POV)
“So what’s, like, your most famous breakfast?”
Nick blinked and tilted his head, wondering if he had misheard. “Famous?”
“Yeah,” the man said, nodding sanctimoniously. “Like, what are you known for?”
“Uh,” Nick said, still a bit confused. “Lavender?”
The woman smiled at him in the way a teacher might smile at a year one who was eating the macaroni off their art piece. “We’re pretty well known on Insta,” she said in a low murmur, as if letting Nick in on a secret. “So it’s to your benefit to make your most picturesque dish.”
Nick nodded solemnly, trying to keep his face neutral. He really wished Charlie was still there; he would have been loving this pair. They were both affecting a bored, half-lidded look that made them appear like Irish setters coming off tranquilizers. “I’ll make sure to make something very impressive.”
Later that day, Nick was washing up in the kitchen when he happened to look out the window. The sun was setting and the light was beautiful, so he wasn’t entirely surprised to see the walking hashtags taking photos. He stared for a moment, taking in the curious scene.
The two of them would both primp, the woman tossing her hair back and forth and the man ruffling his in a curated “devil-may-care” messy casual style. Once both properly mussed, they’d kiss while the man extended his arm and took selfies (or at least Nick assumed). After that, the couple immediately separated and scrolled through the photos, snarling at one another with accusatory fingers before shaking out their hair again and restarting the process. Nick couldn’t hear what they said, of course, but he invented dialogue in his head.
You blinked in that one! You ruined my picture with your incessant need for moistened eyes!
Yeah, well, me blinking is way better than the stupid look on your face.
At least my face wasn’t purchased in central London.
Better than your downmarket veneers that you bought off of Shein.
I hate you!
I hate you!
Shall we kiss again, my angelpookie?
Of course, sugarplum.
Nick snorted as he watched the baffling process play again and again. What a way to live – only for the camera and not for the moment at all. He shook his head as he went back to the dishes, grinning to himself as he again imagined what Charlie would say. Charlie’s commentary would have been hilarious, Nick knew. He was just so funny. He had a way of putting things – or maybe it was his tone? – that made Nick laugh harder than almost anyone else could. Charlie was just… engaging. Was that the right word? Not quite that… Charlie could be quiet and introspective, but when he did speak, it was always something that drew Nick in. Appealing, maybe? Yes, that was it. Charlie was appealing.
He was an appealing person to be around. He offered so much in even the little time he and Nick spent together. Charlie was smart and interesting, always with unique and thoughtful perspectives to offer. Unlike some others, though, Charlie also took the time to listen to other people and truly hear them – or at least that’s how Nick felt around him. Yes, Charlie was just an appealing human to spend time with, and Nick supposed it was that that made him miss the connection so much. Guests were typically short-lived and only existed in the breath of a moment, and Charlie had been so much more than that.
Nick glanced up again in time to see the woman gesticulating with annoyance at the man, who was rolling his eyes. He wondered what it would be like to have that be your relationship, where everything was designed for maximal appeal to the outside world, not the people inside of it. Marla hadn’t been like that, but a lot of people treated Nick and the Badgers like objects or conquests. Some lads celebrated it, but Nick never had. He craved connection, in both his friendships and romantic pairings. There were enough pictures taken of him and attention foisted on him that Nick never wanted to live his life for other people. He wanted it for himself, and for who he was with.
Unbidden, Nick’s mind drifted to Charlie again. He didn’t know much about Charlie’s last relationship, but he got the sense that B. Hope cared a lot about what other people thought, and less about what Charlie did. Thoughts swirling, Nick mused that he didn’t actually know a lot about Charlie’s life in general. He wondered about his daily routine, what his job was like. Nick wondered if Charlie had heard from B. Hope, that twitty rat.
Nick wondered if Charlie was happy.
After a few moments, Nick pulled his eyes from the window. There was work to do, instead of just standing there and letting his mind wander off. There were cows to take care of, beds to make, and obnoxiously plated breakfasts to plan. There were things to do.
Though Nick truly did miss Charlie.
Chapter 7/Chapter 37 (Am y: Charlie’s POV)
Thighs.
Fucking thighs.
Charlie wasn’t sure how much time he had spent looking at Google image pictures of rugby players, but not even a geological epoch could have given him enough time to admire the powerful quads of England’s finest rugby… group. Squad. Team?
It had started so innocently, too. Charlie was aglow after the call with Nick. He’d been working up the nerve to message Nick for literal hours, crumpling up pieces of paper as he struggled through how to ask to stay at Lavender Fields again. And then Nick – that glowing sunbeam of a scarecrow stuffed with kindness and topped with a thick coat of hotness – called him. That would have been enough to set Charlie’s heart fluttering, but then the call was just so… well, easy. It was easy, casual, and comfortable.
What really set Charlie up on the path to his own destruction was the sound of Nick’s voice, a husky, warm thing that seemed to rise through the phone and wrap around Charlie, seeping into his chest. Reminiscing after the call, Charlie closed his eyes and started to imagine Nick saying those words, phone in hand. He could picture the words spilling out of Nick’s perfect lips as they curled up in that gentle smile Nick had, the one where one cheek pulled up and made him look adorable and sexy at the same time.
That was the beginning of the end. Charlie opened his eyes and took out his phone, surreptitiously opening an Incognito tab. He wasn’t doing anything wrong by Googling “Nick Nelson Badgers smile”, but he also didn’t want his phone to collect his data and then serve him targeted ads that asked if he wanted to Meet Other Elder Gays in Your Area.
(Again.)
Once Charlie had opened the tab, all hope was lost. The first picture that came up was one of Nick, clearly a shot from a rugby match. True to his search query, it was one of Nick grinning, that same half-crooked smile that burned so brightly in Charlie’s imagination. In the picture, Nick was crouching on the ground, appearing as if he was raising himself up after getting knocked down. He was smiling and pointing at someone off-camera as he did, but that wasn’t what Charlie’s eyes were drawn to.
No, this picture happened to show not just Nick-Nelson-the-fittest-man-alive, it happened to show Nick-Nelson-the-fittest-man-alive playing in a rugby match in the rain. The pouring rain. That meant that this picture happened to show Nick, his rugby shirt glued to his body, creating an eye-popping topographical map of the most beautiful abdominal valleys and rises that Charlie had ever seen. That alone might have kept Charlie busy that evening for a good 5-7 minutes (or perhaps 5-7 minutes once, followed by 5-7 minutes again about three quarters of an hour later), but no. No, the Universe was smiling upon Charlie with this photo. (Or taunting him – Charlie wasn’t really able to tell).
In the picture, Nick was getting up from the grass. There was another player near him, probably someone who had tackled him. Whatever had happened, the blessed result was that as Nick was rising up, his quadriceps were working hard to lift every inch, pound, and rain-soaked it of delight of that gorgeous body. The muscles of his legs were glistening, made only more apparent by the way his rugby shorts (good god, those rugby shorts) were hiked up on his tree-trunk legs.
Charlie’s throat suddenly felt very dry. He looked around surreptitiously, even though Elle and Tao had long retired to their room. He tapped the picture and zoomed in, swallowing hard as he looked at the muscles in Nick’s legs. God, if science could figure out how to turn those things into cables, Charlie reckoned they could tow an airplane. He had never been that fussed with men’s legs before, often being drawn to facial features or biceps, maybe. But looking at Nick and imagining the heat rising off of those legs as he rose off of the ground…
Well, Charlie might be doing a bit more Googling that night.
Chapter 8/38 (Badgers: James’s POV)
“Oh, fuck. Pull over, baby!”
James looked over at Danny in mild alarm. “You right?” He started to slow the car and pull over on the country road.
“Hurry!”
“Jesus, Danny, do you need to take a slash or something?”
Danny’s look instantly shifted from one of light panic to a look of utter adoration. “This is a critical moment but god I love you picking up Aussie slang.” He blew James a kiss as the car slowed to a stop and slapped the dashboard excitedly. “Yeah, right here.”
“What’s going on?” James demanded, though he was half-laughing. Living with Danny was being bombarded with a constant stream of “emergencies” – ranging from Danny having forgotten all his underwear on a long road match series to needing James to see a very large cicada to my penis will explode if you do not touch it soon, James, please.
Danny didn’t respond, but just tumbled out of the car and started off into a yellowing field, its colours muted as autumn advanced. Danny turned back to wink at James, setting off in an exaggerated swagger and rolling his hips in a way that he must have been convinced was seductive. James snorted and watched as Danny nodded to himself, then leaned down and picked a long blade of grass, one of those tubular pieces with the fluffy part on the end.
“Oh my god,” James murmured to himself. Of course that was the emergency. Danny needed another piece of his costume.
Danny turned on his booted heel and spun, grinning at James and tipping an invisible cowboy hat before sauntering back to the car and getting in. He nodded solemnly at James, dipping his head. “Ma’am.”
James laughed and pulled back onto the road as Danny chattered away. He loved that big lumbering adorable dummy more than anything in the world. There was no question that Danny was James’s person.
There had never been a question, really.
As they got closer to Lavender Fields, James could feel Danny’s puppy-like energy growing. His was too, honestly. They both missed Nick, and it was going to be like old times to have all of them back together.
“Are we there yet?” Danny whined, craning his neck and looking around as if Lavender Fields might have reemerged in a new spot since the last time they’d visited.
“Yes,” James replied flatly, pointing at a barn that was nearly sticks, it was so old. “It’s right there.”
“Wow,” Danny said, nodding soberly. “Nick’s really let the place go to shit. I’ll have to text Sarah.”
James snorted. “Nick would DIE if he know you and his mum texted.”
“Nick would die at how she told me that her Instagram is nearly all gay male content after the things I’ve shared with her,” Danny said thoughtfully. He turned and grinned at James. “Can’t wait until Nicky Nuts gets back to Leeds.”
“I know,” James agreed. “We’ll all be back together. Except Shea, I guess.”
Danny giggled. “That corned beefcake will be there plenty.”
“I know,” agreed James with a laugh.
Danny had been delighted when he found out about Amy and Shea. He’d walked in on them pashing after a Sale match at Danny and James’s house, the two of them wrapped together like an anaconda and a deer – Amy being the anaconda of course. When the two of them had walked in on Amy and Seamus, Danny burst out into a high-pitched squeal, the likes of which James had only heard when Danny had discovered, upon moving to England, that there was a shop called Poundland. (The amount of times he’d “offered” to take James there was truly astonishing.)
“I wonder what that bloke Charlie will be like,” Danny mused. “Ames said he’s a fucking legend.”
James pointed at Danny sternly. “Don’t scare him, Danny.”
Danny held his hands up innocently. “Moi? But I am le reserved leetle bunny. I do not scare!”
James grinned at his love, taking his hand. “Nick mentioned he’s not had the best experience with sporty lads in the past.”
“Well,” Danny grinned, giving James’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Neither had we.”
“True,” James agreed, wrapping their fingers more tightly.
“He’ll love us,” Danny said confidently. “Who wouldn’t love the Badgers?”
Chapter 9/39 (Embraced : Danny’s POV)
Danny looked up when the door opened, a cheeky grin already spreading across his face. “You’ve gotten a taste of a scrum today. I ‘spose you’re here now for the scummiest scrot-scrum in all of England?” He enthusiastically cupped his nude bollocks in his hand and waggled them at James.
James froze, then snorted and shook his head, his eyes taking in the sight of Danny laying fully naked on the bed, his feet against the headboard and his dick flopped against his stomach. “I’m sure that Nick would love to know how often you lay starkers on this duvet.”
Danny reached out with grabby hands to encourage James to come closer. “Like you never have.”
“I’m a demure and proper lady;” James said with a manufactured sniff. “I would never bare my bum on a bed.”
“He lies-ses!” Danny hissed in his best Gollum voice. James had drifted closer to the bed, and Danny seized on the opportunity, half-somersaulting and seizing James around the hips. He attempted to pull James’s rugby shorts off as he laughed and wriggled, both of them giggling as they wrestled.
“Danny!” James protested. “We haven’t even showered yet! I’m fucking filthy.”
“Oh yes you are,” Danny purred, grinning against James’s ear. “You’re a filthy, filthy boy. Look at you, you naughty, dirty man. You haven’t even unpacked your suitcase yet.”
“That’s your suitcase, Danny.”
“What’s mine is yours, baby,” Danny volleyed back, blinking his eyes exaggeratedly.
James smiled and pressed his lips against Danny’s, then placed a hand on his chest and drew back. He paused as if searching for words, his eyebrows constricting. “I just – I just saw Nick hugging Charlie.”
“Yeah?” Danny asked, snuggling James close. “Nick’s basically a koala who was born in the wrong country and species.”
“No, but not like…” James stopped again. “Nick was, like – holding him. And Charlie was… I don’t know. The expression on Nick’s face was like something I’ve not seen with him before. He…” James paused, looking at Danny with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Danny realised then the expression on his face probably looked thunderstruck, his eyebrows knitted and eyes boring into James. “I… you– it… we– but… James!” he stammered, bolting up from the bed as his doodle danced with the motion.
“What?” James asked again, sitting up.
Danny’s eyes were wide and wild. “Okay, so I didn’t want to say something because you think that I always think everyone is gayer than they think – I call it seeing the world through queer-coloured glasses, which is a way better pun than you give me credit for (do you get it? Like, clear ? Glass is clear?) – but NICK – James!” he bellowed, trying to get the words out.
In the short time that he and James had been at Lavender Fields, Danny’s gaydar had been in a state of utter pan-demonium. He had half-thought he was imagining it at first. On the porch, Nick’s bambi-like brown eyes had been all over Charlie as he met the lads. That could have been explained away as Nick wanting to be sure his new mate was comfortable, but not the softness on his face when they all went inside, Nicky’s eyes staying on Charlie. It hadn’t escaped him the way that Nick looked at Charlie during the rugby match that they’d watched, his eyes sparkling every time he did. And there had absolutely been some cheeky gayness in the match, Nick and Charlie’s faces close to one another after Nick tackled him. Now kiss! Danny has been chanting in his brain, a giddy glee spreading throughout his body as he watched the two of them.
Nick had always dated women, yes – but Danny knew from gutting experience that by itself, that meant nothing. Maybe Nick was afraid. Maybe Nick was unaware. Maybe Nick was–
“I THINK NICK IS SUPER GAY FOR CHARLIE,” Danny burst out, bouncing on his toes. “Do you–”
“Hey,” James said, a soft expression on his face. He pulled Danny back to the bed, rolling Danny onto his back and straddling Danny’s hips.
Danny whined, now titillated by both the idea of more naughty queerness in the world and by the feeling of his boyfriend’s dick against his. “Whaaaaat?” He whined, trying to grind up against James.
“If Nick is into Charlie, that’s for him,” James said softly. “It’s for him until he shared it with someone else. You know that. You know that if he is into Charlie, that’s probably…” James breathed in deeply. “That’s probably new for him, right? And it’s his.”
Danny whimpered, now tortured by both the idea of not being able to ask Nick about it and by the sadness that no one’s penis was inside someone else’s orifice at the moment. “But…”
“It’s for him, baby,” James said, and Danny knew he was right. Then his face shifted into something altogether something else. “Though I think you’ve got something for me. Maybe we can find it in the shower?”
“Distracting me with sex,” Danny huffed, though his point was dulled by the way he was already fireman-carrying James to the en-suite. “Shameful behaviour, really.” As Danny was sliding down James’s slippery, muscular body in the shower, he vowed that the two of them would be shameful enough that the portraits in the room would be horrified even with him and James far beyond their glassy gaze.
Chapter 10/40 (Beat: Nick’s POV)
How to age drums
Nick frowned at his phone at the list of search results, scrolling through results that were absolutely not giving him the information he needed
- What effects have age had on the sound of your drums?
- Making old drums look new
- Best age to start drumming
- Bought drums and don’t know what age they are? Here’s how to clean them so they look young as ever
- I’m 59. Am I too old to take up drumming?
Nick let out an indignant scoff and scrolled back up to the search bar, his thumb hovering over his keyboard. Most of the results with that first query were either about cleaning old drums or aging them to produce a certain tenor or sound. The remaining portion were a number of encouraging (though insulting) reassurances that Nick’s elderly arse wasn’t too old to learn something new. He hesitated for a moment, then tried again. Maybe more generic will work ? Nick thought as he typed.
Change look of new drums
He sighed as he scrolled through the results. The first one ( Giving your existing drums a new look) was promising in name but utterly devastating in content, again offering ideas to make old drums look new. The rest of the results were just as useless: How to change out your old drum skins with new ones, Testing a new hack to replace old drum heads, and How do I apply a new glitter wrap? Nick had to grin at the last one. He had no use for it in this situation, but he guessed that Danny had likely Googled something similar, though for an entirely different reason.
Things did not get better. Nick went through a laundry list of searches, none of which yielded anything helpful.
quickly make new drumset look like an old drumset
Can you use sandpaper on drums?
can you use sandpaper on drum SKIN
Will you break a drumset if you roll it around on wooden floor
[image search] used drums
[image search] zoomed-in closeup on used drums
[image search] drums that are like 15 years old
[image search] 5 year old drumset
[image search] estate sale drums sold old antique?
Effect of tea on drum skin
What are drum skins made out of
what is mylar actually made out of
Mylar balloon for sale cow shape
Mylar balloon for sale book
Mylar balloon for sale with pun on it
how can I tell what kind of drum skin my drumset has
How to age mylar
Is there actually a part of a drum called a butt?
how many people in the world have dark hair and blue eyes?
How to age skin
On that last one, Nick realised that he’d forgotten the word “drum” before the word “skin”, a combination of suggestions, advice, and images that he’d rather have not experienced. He let out his breath in a huff, the cloud condensing white and frosty in front of him. Nick blew another stream of air in an annoyed exhale, shaking his head at the beautiful and gleaming drum set in front of him. It looked like the decision of what to do was up to him.
Chapter 62: Deleted Scenes from Lavender Fields: Part II of III
Summary:
More deleted scenes from Lavender Fields!
Notes:
Happy Sunday surprise my loves 😘
Chapter Text
Chapter 11: Confrontation – Nick’s POV
Nick stood in the hayloft of the barn, looking around without actually seeing anything. His mind was spinning back, over and over, to the Badgers changing room. Oddly, the moment he was fixated on now wasn’t the day that everything happened, but instead the day that nothing happened. It was astonishing that in a single day, the world yawned open to reveal a clear before and after.
There was the before. The before where Nick had beliefs about his rugby teammates – that they were all like him, like they all dated women, and that they were all straight. It was… even almost a decade later, Nick didn’t have the words to quite describe the shift that happened that day. He knew people who were gay. He liked and respected people who were gay. Nick could be a rugby player and easily accept gay people, but that almost felt like a separate world. Nick was a rugger. Nick was straight. He was him. Other people might be gay. They were were them. It had all seemed so distinct for ages.
The day the changing room fight had happened, the world exploded and reformed several times.
Danny yelling at Harry that he had slept with men before.
Danny saying he’d fallen in love with a man before.
The billowing silence that filled Nick’s chest with that heavy, inexplicable terror.
That was the before. Then, there had been the after.
The Badgers, united in their rejection of rejection and their unwavering support of their teammate.
Arriving at James’s place, and James and Danny taking hands.
James saying that he and Danny were together.
Nick stood in the weak sunshine filtering in through the cracks between the boards of the hayloft. There was an uncomfortable tightening in his stomach as he wrestled with the loose and jagged thoughts that crashed around. Nick hated to admit it, but there was a part of him that had always assumed that all people were, to a degree, what they seemed on the surface. Rugby lads looked, acted, and spoke a certain way – they could be placed into one pile. It was the same for the Instagram influencers, who also seemed to fit a certain mold and could be put in a different pile. Gay people were another group, one that was clearly delineated in Nick’s mind. There were clear lines and divisions, and it wasn’t a bad thing. Nick knew who and what he was – a rugby lad – and what he wasn’t. For so long, he hadn’t been able to see and appreciate the nuance that existed among people. It had taken the world-rattling experience of Danny lunging at Harry in the changing room, asserting who he was in a voice that reverberated against the walls.
Nick remembered all that, yes – but more than anything, he recalled the next day in the changing room. He had arrived early, too anxious about what it might be like to keep stewing at home. Driving to the stadium, Nick methodically ticked through potential scenarios as if they were rugby plays. He thought about what he’d say if a lad said something homophobic, or if someone refused to shower with Danny. He rehearsed the ways he’d shut down muttering side talk and when and how to pull someone aside when they looked at Danny suspiciously.
Despite being early, Nick walked in that day to a swarm of bodies in the changing room. Nearly all of the boys had arrived sooner than normal, variously chatting, wandering round in towels, or preparing for training. There was no hint of danger in the air – no coiled switchblade that was ready to lash out when Danny arrived. There was nothing different in the talk, the jokes, or the way that lads were lounging half-dressed as they taped up parts of their bodies.
Nick’s heart jumped when he saw the wild head of hair enter through the swinging door, every muscle coiled like a spring. But when Danny walked in, nothing changed. Nothing was different. Lads called out greetings. Lunker asked Danny if a neon marker store had exploded on his shirt. Danny replied that it was better than the sweater that Lunker was currently wearing (Lunker was in fact simply both shirtless and shockingly hairy). The team were chatting and laughing and tossing things to and at one another as normal.
Nick recalled looking around, nearly incredulous. It was… the same. The changing room was the same. The Badgers were the same. Danny was the same. Danny was Danny. Danny was the same amazing, earnest, hilarious, exhausting teammate that he’d always been. He was the same burly scrum-half who Nick would have trusted with his life on and off the field. Danny was the same cheeky bastard who had never excluded anyone or made them feel less-than. Danny was a rugby player, a lad, a mate, and also… gay.
Well, no, not gay. The world had cracked into old and new yet again when Danny shared that he was pan, keen on dating people of any gender. Nick had known that people were gay, and he’d heard a bit about bisexuality, too. He hadn’t realised that there was more than just gay. After Googling for hours the night after everything happened, Nick sat awed on his bed realising there was so much more than just gay. He recalled the way his mind roiled and tossed that evening, new terms tumbling round: allocishet, poly, queer, biromantic, asexual, omnisexual – it went on.
That day in the changing room, Nick recalled how he sat and breathed it all in. The team all knew about Danny, now, and a few moments later, they knew about James when he and Danny briefly told the lads they were dating. The proclamation was met with nodding and some whoops, and then the conversation shifted to Croftie laying out the training plan. There was still a “just”, but the “just” had shifted. To the Badgers, it was clear that sexuality was “just” a part of who Danny and James were. Who they dated and slept with was “just” another aspect, not a definition. Neither of one of them had changed who they were, just how visible a part of each of them were. They were the same people, with the same hearts and attitudes and minds as before.
They were just… Danny and James.
Nick snapped himself out of his stupor, shaking his head. He’d spent far too much time in his own mind that day, thoughts flitting across his mind too quick to capture. He tossed down a bale of hay and then started to descend the ladder. As he did, a glint of shining metal caught his eye, the edge of a drum peeking out from beneath a sheet. Nick’s breath caught and he froze on the ladder, staring at the drums. The drums. Charlie’s drums.
The drums that Nick had bought for Charlie.
Chapter 12: Process – Amy POV
Amy pressed the End Call button and set her phone on the worktop. She could never stay still when she was on the phone, and she’d immediately gotten out of bed when Nick called. Sweet Nicky still had no idea she and Seamus were together, and she genuinely thought that telling him when he was in that state might have caused a full Nick Nelson disintegration.
Amy took a deep breath, staring out of the kitchen window at the deep, soft blackness beyond. That was… that had been a lot. She was honoured that Nick called her, though Danny would have truly been the best resource. The filthiest one, too, but you had to take the good with the bad. Nick had almost broken apart when she mentioned Danny, though, and Amy had known not to push it. Pressing the thoughts of Danny aside, Amy picked her phone back up and made her way back into the bedroom.
Seamus stirred sleepily as she got back on the bed. “Who was that?”
“Nick,” Amy replied as she rolled over to put her phone on the nightstand.
“Yeah?” Seamus’s voice was sleep-rough. God, she fucking loved his brogue. “What did he want?”
“To be as good as you at rugby.”
Seamus’s grin was visible even in the dark. “Knew it.” He paused, and his voice was a little gentler. “Everything okay?”
Amy knew it wasn’t hers to share. “Yeah,” she replied honestly. “Everything’s okay.” It was okay. It would be okay. She saw weeks ago the way those goober-eyed koalas had been mooning at each other.
“Good,” Seamus said with a nod. He wouldn’t push; Amy knew he wouldn’t. Seamus was incredible in how he just trusted. Seamus trusted what Amy said, and never questioned it. He never accused her of hiding things from him or keeping secrets. One of the things that she loved the most about Shea was that he valued togetherness, but he also respected independence. “Now get over here so I can cuddle the fuck out of you.”
‘Noooo,” Amy protested in mock-horror.
“Yes,” Seamus said back in a low growl, the one that gave Amy what Danny termed a crotch headache.
“Nooo,” she said again, but it was muffled by the way her lips were nestled against Seamus’s chest.
His arms were around her, his hands pressing warmth against her body. Amy closed her eyes and took another deep breath. She rehashed some of the call with Nick, going over the things he said. God, it made her heart hurt with aching joy to know that Nick was living his biggest life. It had to be terrifying, yes, but also exhilarating. You’re allowed to like Charlie, Amy had said. The words had popped into her mind, and those were the ones that had seemed to settle Nick the most. Nick was allowed to like Charlie. She was allowed to like Seamus. She was allowed to love Seamus.
It had taken Amy a while to give herself that permission – the permission to relax into the things that Seamus was offering her. She was allowed to like to be taken care of, despite knowing she could take care of herself. She was allowed to revel in affection and crave it, and be tough and no-nonsense. She could be multiple things – a badass and a girlfriend. A woman who didn’t need no man but who wanted one. It was just like something James had said ages ago, that it felt impossible to be a rugger and gay. People could be multiple things, like Danny and James. Like she was.
Like Nick was.
Seamus pressed a kiss on her neck, soft and without wanting. He rolled onto his back, keeping an arm tucked around her. She looked over at him, at the easy countenance on his face when he slept. He was there – touching her and grounded, but not smothering. Loving and respectful. Amy knew he would be fine with Nick. The way he reacted with Danny and James had been one of the things that made her fall for Shea. He’d grown up a true lad’s lad, but had been one of the Badgers that loved Danny and James the loudest. Not, like, Danny loud, but loud with his actions. Seamus was at every press conference, ready to shut down any homophobic talk. Shea would stand quietly near Danny and James in a pub when they were affectionate with each other, his massive bulk dissuading any hateful words. And he never – never – ceased telling Danny and James how important they were to the team, and to him.
She watched the way Seamus shifted and evolved in his relationship with queerness, Danny and James, them and the team in general. The thing that Amy could not abide was a person who did not evolve and grow. Well, that and white men who were condescending about things. But that was less of a “could not abide by” and more of a “want to rip out the kidneys of through a urethra”. Seamus was all about growth, and that was what attracted her to him.
Huh, Amy thought, something twigging in her mind as her eyes drifted closed. Shea was always growing. Nick was clearly always growing and changing, too, as evidenced by his introspection about Charlie and his sexuality. That was what it was about the Badgers, she realised suddenly. That was the Badgers and what set them apart. Minds were open on the Badgers, and that’s why she was forever dedicated. Open minds, open hearts, can’t lose.
Open legs, too, Amy mused as she drifted off to sleep, a grin ghosting on her face. She was sure Nick and Charlie were going to discover that, too.
Chapter 13: Perception: Charlie’s POV
Charlie had never particularly been a morning person. In secondary, there had been hundreds of days he’d slapped at the 6:09 am alarm on his phone, cursing its scrotum-shrivelling sound and promising himself that when he had an adult job, he would make sure he never had to wake up before 8. Young Charlie had not then known the evils of late-stage capitalism, and his naivete was soon lost in the professional world of pre-sunrise wakeups.
Yes, Charlie had never been one of those people who rolled out of his bed delighted each day. That was – not until Lavender Fields. More specifically, not until a certain, freckle-and-muscle-armed, golden-glowing, cupcake-scented, unicorn-dusted, fucking fit fit fitty of a man was in a kitchen at ungodly hours.
Charlie had recently gotten in the disgusting habit of setting his alarm for 5:30. Bleary-eyed, he would roll out of bed and catch up from the day before, answering all of the emails and missed messages that he had steadfastly ignored while making dinner with Nick the evening before. He worked before going downstairs and helping Nick with breakfast. Charlie always affected a bit of a sleepy-voiced yawn as he walked into the kitchen, not wanting Nick to know that Charlie's sleeping patterns were as easily discarded in favor of spending time with Nick as Nellie’s affections would have been if offered a particularly delightful batch of alfalfa.
His slight play-acting was immediately rewarded by Nick's glowing smile when Charlie came into the kitchen. One of the fondest feelings Charlie thought he had ever experienced was when it was just the two of them, their voices low as to not disturb any of the guests. Charlie didn't think he'd ever been in the same physical space with someone like he was with Nick. It was just… It was almost a silent, intuitive dance. That didn't even feel right, because Charlie always felt a little awkward dancing, particularly with a dance where one partner was supposed to lead. Instead, it felt as though the two of them were living in this space between improvisation and deep, patterned comfort. They moved easily and fluidly around one another in the kitchen, anticipating each others’ moves.
Charlie knew that Nick didn't feel the same way as he did. Even though there had been that hug, the one that had created both the Nighttime Fantasy and the Wank Heard Round the World, there were a million reasons to explain it away. Charlie knew that, but it didn't stop him from relishing just how right it felt to be with Nick, the two of their bodies, bathed in the mixture of yellow lights from the kitchen and the soft glow of the sun beginning to peek in the windows.
Of course, it also didn't stop him from ruing Nick's constant and inventive stream of puns.
“Good morning,” Nick said on Wednesday when Charlie came down, a mischievous grin already on his face.
“Good morning,” Charlie replied with an arched eyebrow, accepting the coffee Nick handed to him.
“D’you want to listen to some music?” Nick asked as he turned to the stove, but not before Charlie caught the grin on his face. “Maybe… the Yeastie Boys? The Rolling Scones? Bread Zepplin?”
Charlie sighed, a long sound that he tried to draw up from his toes. “How long have you been planning these, then?”
Nick turned back, an adorably scandalised look on his face. “Planning what?” he asked innocently. God, his “innocent” face was so fucking cute. Charlie almost could not put into words how much he wanted to introduce that innocent face to some very not-innocent things.
“Planning baking-themed musical act puns.”
Nick shook his head and tsk ed at Charlie. “How dare you – you know I’m trying to stop. I’ve been Queen for a whole week before this.”
Charlie had made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee right before that, the unexpected switcheroo of the pun approach taking him by surprise. “You’re right,” he said, recovering. “Maybe you just need to find… The Cure?”
Nick whirled around from the stove, holding the spatula like the string of a balloon. “CHARLIE!” he beamed, his gorgeous smile lighting up his face.
Charlie shook his head morosely. “What have you done to me?”
“Enlightened you,” Nick responded primly, and Charlie laughed.
More than you know, Charlie mused as they both chuckled and went back to their dance, the one where Nick showed Charlie what it could feel like to spend time with another person who always made him feel heard, appreciated, and happy. More than you know.
Chapter 14: Fires - B. Hope’s POV
He loved the sound of the Jag’s engine. It was a combination of a sexy purr with the edge of a powerful growl, and in a lot of ways, it reminded him of himself. Ben stole another pull from the flask with one hand, flexing his fingers of the other around the heated leather wheel. The whiskey burned down his throat, the heat tossing fuel on the fire in his chest. Here he was, driving to see Charlie. Driving to get Charlie back.
Ben nearly laughed aloud. It was comically absurd for him that Ben had to go and collect Charlie from his ridiculous tantrum. Well – it was almost comical. Instead, it was patently ridiculous. Ben was driving for hours, giving up an entire evening to make all the nonsense with Charlie stop. He was surprised that Charlie had held out for so long – all of the other times that Charlie had made a mistake like this he’d come crawling back after just a few days of silent treatment from Ben. No, this time Charlie had been maddeningly dedicated to his pettiness.
Charlie had been dedicated to it, but Ben knew that was about to change. The corner of his mouth curled up as he pictured what it would look like. He would show up at Lavender Field or whatever it was called, the old woman from the website answering the door. Ben would flash the smile that was one of his most attractive assets, and ask to see Charlie.
Ben pictured Charlie walking towards the door, his blue eyes widening as he took in the sight of Ben leaning on the doorframe, smiling at him. Ben was wearing the old leather jacket that Charlie bought him ages ago, the one that he’d caught Charlie running his fingers over as it hung untouched in their closet. Charlie would melt, amazed that Ben was there. He’d look at Ben and all of that bravado would fade as he folded into Ben’s waiting arms.
The car drifted closer to the side of the road, and Ben jerked the wheel back and swore, heat rising through his chest. He needed to pay attention. He needed to be on his game.
He needed to be on point, but Ben knew how to play this. He knew when to let Charlie take as much as his needy arse wanted, and he also knew when to pull back. Ben knew how to keep Charlie hungry. This time Ben did laugh aloud – it was the perfect metaphor with all of Charlie’s food bullshit, and also true. He had found the perfect balance in their relationship, the one where Ben would decide on how much to give. He knew how to keep Charlie craving the next bite of what Ben might offer.
That was what has been so disorienting about the last few weeks. Charlie had just – left. Ben was confident that he’d come back within a day, but time had stretched on. This was a different, take-charge side of Charlie Ben had never seen before, and there was a part of him that was a little turned on by this new energy.
It was dangerous, too, but Ben knew he could curb it.
He had so many times before. He’d seen the flashes in Charlie’s eyes, the moments where he thought that he had control over Ben in some way. He knew how to crush those moments. Ben knew how to slowly withdraw, to make Charlie desperate for anything Ben would offer.
Ben took another sip from the flask, twisting the top closed with his thumb before tossing it onto the passenger seat. Things would be normal again soon. Things would be right again soon. Because honestly, as much as a pain in the arse Charlie was most of the time, the relationship worked out perfectly for both of them. Charlie got to love someone far out of his league. Ben had a stable partner to come home to, plus the freedom to meet all of his other needs on work trips and on weekend nights. Charlie didn’t know about those, and he didn’t need to. They were both happy – it was win/win.
The Jag prowled on and Ben looked at himself in the mirror appreciatively. He’d swept his hair back in the way that drove Charlie mad, and used his most expensive cologne, the one he didn’t usually waste on Charlie. In just a few hours, everything would be normal and back to the way it should be. Ben knew that Charlie would be defenseless against his arriving at the stupid bed and breakfast – in fact, this would be easy.
After all, Charlie was only a five.
Chapter 15: B. Hope – B Hope’s POV
The world pitched and rolled on the edges of his vision, and Ben fixed his gaze on one point to steady himself. His eyes happened to land on a blue vase, dried sprigs of lavender spreading out from its opening like an ugly, crispy firework. Lavender Fields, Ben thought dully. He guessed that it was grown in this-middle-of-nowhere hovel. His brain was muted and buzzy, filled with swirls of thoughts that he couldn’t organise.
It wasn’t because he was drunk. He wasn’t drunk. Charlie was just being a little bitch like normal. He had always been like that, fussing at Ben after he’d had a few cocktails.
Are you okay to drive? Charlie would ask, his eyebrows gathered in that look that he tried to pass off as concern, though Ben knew it was a way to try to control him.
I can drive, Ben had always replied, knowing how to handle himself. Ben had always been able to handle himself, unlike Charlie. He’d always known how to remain in control.
Something lurched in Ben’s stomach and he gripped the edge of the filthy blanket that the oaf-man had brought in. His fingers touched something dried and disgusting and he ripped it off the bed, throwing the blanket to the floor before laying down on the camp bed cot. Something was wrong.
All his life, Ben had been able to make things work. He’d always been able to make things right. In school when he’d been accused of being gay by the lads that he hung out with, he’d immediately allowed one of the girls who fawned over him to be his girlfriend. Ben had regaled his mates with grinning recollections of the things that they’d gotten up to, the lads slapping him on the back and roaring with approval. In uni when a girlfriend had caught him cheating, Ben pointed out that she’d been studying a lot lately and he’d been so lonely without her there. At work when he’d stalled in his career, he’d been strategic and got close to one of the VPs who he knew was gay. Ben was able to shift from hiding Charlie from his workmates to making their relationship visible, yet another win-win that delighted Charlie and benefited Ben. Another win-win.
This was… this was different. Charlie had rejected him. He hadn’t just pushed his hand away when Ben went to caress Charlie’s cheek, something Ben knew would melt him. Charlie hadn't just stood stubbornly in the face of Ben’s vulnerability and honesty, in his grand gesture to show Charlie how much he really loved him. It wasn’t just that Charlie ignored the fact that Ben wore the jacket that has been his Christmas present ages ago from Charlie, the jacket that was far softer and more comfortable than he’d imagined. It wasn’t just any of those things.
No, Charlie also refused to come home. He’d said he didn’t want to be with Ben. Charlie spouted so many mental things, lobbing accusations at Ben that were clearly the result of his annoying friends’ drivel. He’d not backed down when Ben had pressed on the things that he knew would shut Charlie down, the things that he knew would shut him down. And worst of all, he’d acted like he didn’t love Ben when he’d gone to kiss Charlie, to show him how much he still cared.
Ben grimaced against another wave of nausea and squeezed his eyes shut. He’d done everything. He’d done so much to show Charlie he loved him with his actions, something Charlie had whinged about for ages. Ben messaged Charlie. He wore the jacket Charlie got him. He drove to Lavender-Fucking-Fields, wasting an entire evening and petrol and his dignity. Ben did all that and Charlie – Charlie – rejected him. Ben sucked in a sharp breath, searing heat flooding his stomach. Charlie rejected him.
Ben rewound to the moment the door opened. Instead of the old woman he saw on the website, a massive bloke was standing there. He seemed like a bouncer, some scowling-faced refrigerator of a man who was there just to look intimidating. That, Ben could handle. He thought he’d won when Charlie pulled at the bouncer-lad’s arm and said he’d speak with Ben outside. Then things had gone to pot and Charlie went mental and pretended that he didn’t want Ben, just to hurt him. That was all shit enough, but what was worse…
What was worse was how all Charlie could do after Ben was thrown to the ground was stare at the farm-lad, Nick. What was worse was how Charlie hadn’t reached for him after Ben was thrown to the ground and lay there in pain. Charlie had spoken about Ben like he wasn’t even there, he and the giant ginger speaking only to one another and not him. He’d just looked at Nick with soft eyes, the same look that he used to give Ben.
What was the worst, Ben thought, that sick feeling back in his stomach, is that Nick looked at Charlie the same way.
Chapter 16: December – Sarah’s POV:
Sarah smiled as she worked the dough on the counter, a movement so familiar to her that it was like walking – a type of physical white noise that allowed her mind to wander. She could hear Nick and Charlies voices calling to one another, the two of them having just returned from a trip to town. Her grin widened when she heard Nick’s laugh, almost able to picture the way it took form in white condensation.
Nicky had been closed off for so long, something that had long worried at her brain. After his father left, she saw the change in him. He was the same Nick, the same warm and wonderful boy whose big heart loved fully and could be easily bruised. She remembered seeing Nick with his mates from school – he was Nick, but there was something missing. In his teenage years, his smile with his friends never beamed as bright as it had when he was younger, or even as warmly as it did when it was just her and Nick together. Sarah had caught herself straining to overhear Nick with his friends and girlfriends when he was in secondary – not out of nosiness, but instead hoping to hear his laugh.
The first shift in Nick that Sarah had seen was when he joined the Badgers. He had been on guard at first, she knew. However, it hadn’t taken long at all until he blossomed and unfurled, his brilliance on display again. With the Badgers, Sarah had gotten to see Nick truly smile again, the smile that reached his eyes and made them sparkle. She’d heard his laugh ringing like bells, a sound so precious that it made her chest ache. Just a few months into joining the Badgers, she had seen Nick happy, and that made her happy. That had been wonderful to see, but this… this was something else entirely.
Watching Nick with Charlie was a curious experience. It was as if Nick had been wrapped in layers so thin that she hadn’t even noticed they were there. With Charlie, it was like Sarah was seeing the purest version of her boy, the one with nothing veiling who he truly was. Nick had cared about Marla, Sarah knew. He had been kind and respectful as a partner, but the way he looked at Marla wasn’t the same as how he looked at Charlie. When Nick looked at Charlie, she could see how soft his eyes were, taking in everything he did as if looking alone couldn’t fully drink in the sight.
Her heart ached to think of what he must have gone through in the past few months, all of the confusion and emotions. She wished that she had been there for him, though at the same time, she doubted Nick would have felt as safe to explore and understand more about himself with someone else observing. No, Nick and Charlie had needed that – for it to just be each other.
Bisexual, Sarah thought with another small smile, hands working the dough. She could only imagine how difficult it had been for Nick to process, and she also knew that there were cruel and ugly people in the world who would judge him for being who he was. All of that was true, but still, she had to smile – it was so Nick. He was so full of love, and now he could love anyone.
He could love anyone, but Sarah knew that there was no one else he was going to love as fully as he already did Charlie.
Of course, it was clear that Charlie felt the same way. In the same way that Nick looked at Charlie, Charlie looked at Nick. He looked at Nick like everything Nick did mattered. It wasn’t lost on her how gentle Charlie’s face was when he snuck a glance at Nick when he thought that Nick wasn’t looking. It was the look of purest tenderness, a heart pouring out everything that it couldn’t say with words yet.
The door burst open and Nick and Charlie came in, smiling and talking with one another as they shook the snow out of their coats, Nick reaching over to brush off Charlie’s shoulder. Sarah turned her head so the boys couldn’t see the amusement on her face.
They would get there, she knew. They would realize that they didn’t want to waste any more time. They would see that they’d met the last first kiss they’d ever have. They were in their own love story – they just weren’t at that part yet.
Chapter 17: You – Charlie’s POV:
Charlie wasn't sure if he had ever laughed so hard. Riding in the car with Amy and Nick was probably hazardous to his health. He felt fairly confident that he would either end up with a hernia from trying not to piss himself laughing, or would get an ab workout so intense that he'd never be able to sit up again. Granted, Charlie wasn’t exactly in the medical field, but he had confidently self-diagnosed himself with horrific maladies from the Internet several times.
Even just getting to the car was predictably ridiculous. Nick had nudged Charlie when they were still in the changing room, gesturing over towards James.
“Observe,” Nick murmured in an absolutely terrible approximation of David Attenborough's voice. “Watch the intrepid European male attempt to guide his partner towards the vehicular transport.”
Charlie snorted, revelling in the warmth of Nick’s shoulder bumping against his. He couldn’t help but notice that when Nick nudged him like this, he didn’t pull away. Their shoulders remained pressed together, and Charlie always felt his heart rate rise. “Ah, but the Oceania male is a slippery foe,” Charlie intoned with a much more skilled impression. “See how he nods in agreement to his mate’s urgings and yet accepts another beer from a member of his pack.”
Nick laughed, that rich tone that filled Charlie’s body with light. “Mate,” he said with a shake of his head. “There were a few months when Danny would introduce James as his mate whenever they met someone new. And he’d do it with this absolutely ridiculous face…” Charlie burst out laughing as Nick cocked and bounced an eyebrow at Charlie, inclining his head in a naughty, innit? kind of look.
“How has James not died of embarrassment?” Charlie asked, mostly to distract himself from how goddamn illegally sexy it was to see Nick with that overconfident, flirty look.
Nick laughed again. “He claims that he was inoculated by uni, like having chickenpox as a kid. I remember he said that after the time Danny went with him to the uni clinic when he was sick with the flu and listed one of his symptoms as being worryingly well-hung’ he got over it quickly.”
Charlie buried his giggles in his own shoulder, all of his cells feeling sparkling and alive. It wasn’t the drink – he’d only had a little – but instead, it was the wondrously new feeling of truly knowing Nick’s friends. He frowned a little at that for a moment. Clearly, Charlie’s brain was trying to draw a parallel to Ben as a boyfriend when Nick was just Charlie’s friend. His friend. Charlie took a breath in and straightened up. Even that was different to other men he’d known. Even if Nick wasn't a partner, he was an incredible friend – one who opened his life generously to others instead of jealously guarding it like a secret.
And, Charlie reflected in the car on the way back to Lavender Fields, so was Amy. She and Nick were open with their laughter, their jokes, and their constant tripping over one another to tell Charlie the backstories of private jokes. At one point, she asked Charlie to grab a tissue from the glovebox. When he did, Charlie held up a CD case, titled S.T.G.T.B.W.
“What’s this?” Charlie asked, holding it like a rare artifact. “Besides a relic from the days of boy bands and absolutely incredible Mariah Carey albums?”
Amy snatched it from his hand and let out a shriek of laughter. “Oh my goddddd. Nick!” She repeated the acronym to Nick, who immediately burst out laughing.
“Danny made it,” Nick said through giggles as he drove, grinning and nodding at the windscreen as if in memory. “Songs to Get the Bussy Wet.”
Charlie blinked before bursting into laughter. “Who… who comes up with that?”
“Danny fucking Turner,” Amy said, also laughing. “He claims that nothing is sexier than early-2000s girlpop and that this was his way to prove it.”
“Well,” Charlie said with an exaggerated shrug, popping it into Nick’s likely long-unused CD player in the car. “Let’s test it out.” He thought he felt Nick’s eyes dart over to him for a moment, but when he looked over, Nick was looking at the road, his cheeks flushed with the heat of the car.
The first notes of B’Witched played from the stereo and Charlie laughed, feeling light and free. No matter what, he has Nick and Amy as friends. It wasn’t what he wanted from Nick, of course, but it was enough.
It would be enough for Charlie.
Chapter 18: Countdown – Danny’s POV:
Danny literally bounced into the room, springing up and down on his toes and whisper-squealing. “Jaaaaaaaaames!” He put his hands on the bed and jostled the mattress, bumping the bed against the wall with every syllable. “James James James James James James!”
The perfect, silky, glorious dark head of hair didn’t lift from the pillow. “Shaddup.”
Danny threw himself on the bed and drew his chin into his chest, affecting a haughty look. “I am not a foreman in one of your mills that you can command. I am your fiancée!”
James snorted and buried himself under the covers even more deeply. “Sorry. Shaddup, Kate Winslet.”
Danny dove under the blankets, rooting around like a hog and making James squirm and laugh before turning and cuddling up to his man, kissing him on the nose. “Of course you got the reference, my precious heart of the ocean. But Jamesies Jamesie Jamesington, my angel,” Danny insisted, tapping James on his muscled chest.
“Mrrrphh.”
“Baby, this is important!”
James cracked one eye open. “That’s what you said about shagging for the fourth time a couple of hours ago. You said if we didn’t, our wedding would never go forth.” James tilted his head at Danny thoughtfully. “I almost broke up with you right then.”
Danny couldn’t contain himself any longer. “It finally happened! Nick – he told me – he – crush – rooting – CHARLIE.”
“What?” James murmured, rubbing his sexy eyes and finally rousing himself. God, some lads just don’t know how to root for 7 hours straight, Danny mused.
“He finally told me, angel,” Danny said. “Nick told me that he fancies Charlie.”
“Really?” Now James was actually awake, his gorgeous brown eyes on Danny.
Danny nodded excitedly. “I would never lie about the potential of penile possibility.” James snorted and Danny shook his head in delighted wonder at what had just happened. “Jimmy jammers, he talked. He told me that he likes Charlie and that he reckoned that he’s been falling for him for ages. He said he’s bi and he’s not ready to tell Charlie yet but – eep! ”
James jumped. “What the fuck, babe?”
“Drums!” Danny was giggling, his body filled with sparkling joy. “That absolutely besotted boob bought a drumset for Charlie and then claimed he found them.”
“Oh my god,” James said, laughing and dropping his head back. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Danny said, now tearing up with mirth. (And girth.) “I love that Charlie just bought that story – that Nick found a thousand-quid drum set in a fucking farm barn.” He grinned at his boy. “It’s amazing how you can easily believe something if you want to.”
“Almost like a woodworm infestation,” James said with a raised eyebrow and a sexy smirk.
“Shhhh,” Danny said soothingly, trailing his fingers along James’s face and making him laugh. “Be respectful and don’t speak of the dead. In fact, let’s take a moment of silence for Evan.”
James laughed, a rich sound that always filled Danny’s chest. “So… Nick likes Charlie?”
“Loves Charlie,” Danny corrected confidently.
“And Charlie clearly likes Nick.” James said it as a statement and not a question.
“Oh shit yeah.”
“And tonight is New Year’s Eve.”
“Yep.”
James grinned at that, his features lighting up. “Here we fucking go.”
Chapter 19: Midnight – Amy’s POV:
Amy extended her arm and made a grabby hand. “Another one.”
“Amy Dingleberry Jameson, there is another way to ask that question.”
Amy rolled her eyes and extended her middle finger. “Like this?” She wiggled her fingers, but still, nothing landed in her hand.
“Nope.”
Amy sighed, putting on her best DJ Khaled voice. “A-nuthah one.”
“Fucking nailed it, love.” She could hear the grin in Danny’s voice as he dropped another zip-tie into her outstretched palm. He was laying on the bed, periodically handing them to Amy as they worked. She was under the bed, busily connecting the pieces of the large bed frame together so tightly that Nick and Charlie would never be able to tear it apart.
Danny had tried to be the one to get under the bed, insisting that it was his duty as a sexual relationship facilitator. However, both his barrel chest and muscled ass were too large to fit under the bed.
“Tits and hips,” Danny sighed when it was evident that it would never work. “Curse this ample bosom of mine.”
Amy wrapped the newest tie around a part of the metal pieces underneath the mattress, delighting in the satisfying zzzziiiiiiiiiieeeeep as it clicked into place. “So,” she said, extending her hand once again. “How do you think it’ll happen?”
“Oh, I reckon those two will just stuff doodles in each others’ derrieres in all directions,” Danny said assuredly.
Amy snorted. “No, I mean, like, how and when? Think it’ll be tonight?”
“At midnight, maybe?” Danny mused.
“Yeah, I guess that would make sense,” Amy said, nodding to the degree that she could under the bed. “But then again, I think both of those boys would be too shy to do that in front of everyone.”
Danny scoffed, affecting a scandalised tone. “Prudes.”
Amy laughed. “You can’t compare people to you. You once wore that one-legged thong swimsuit that looked like a comma.”
“Oh, yeah! Maybe I should wear that to their wedding. Shouldn’t be more than six months, I reckon.”
She laughed again and fastened another tie, then paused. Something didn’t seem right. Amy felt an uncomfortable twist of anxiety in her stomach and hesitated. “Is this…” She tilted her head and tapped a fingernail against the zip tie. “Is this the right thing to do?”
Instantly, Danny’s head thrust out over the side of the bed, his eyes wounded with betrayal. “Is what right?”
“This,” Amy said, once again drilling her finger against the zip tie. She looked up at Danny. “What if they cut it apart?”
Danny’s horrified face broke into a wide smile. “Don’t worry, I hid all the knives and scissors that I could find in the house. James had a lot of questions when I came inside.”
“Oh my god,” Amy snorted, putting out her hand for one more tie.
Danny pulled himself back up on the bed, his face disappearing from her view. “Thank fuck, Ames. I was worried you were developing a moral compass, and that would never do for our friendship.”
“Never,” Amy scoffed. “My moral compass is just focused on bringing things together.”
Danny’s face popped back over the edge of the bed again, his upside-down smile an absolute beam. “I GET IT! LIKE THE BED!”
“Don’t listen to what James says, you’re just as smart as you look.” Amy took Danny’s proffered hand and let him pull her out from under the mattress, dusting herself off and getting to her feet. “How many hours until we hear them getting it on?”
Danny nodded, considering. “Oh, I hope within 12 hours we’re hearing bedsprings.” His eyes widened, and he seized Amy’s arm with a gasp. “Oh my god. Charlie Spring. Bedsprings. Charlie Bedsprings. Charlie Sprung. Charlie–”
“That’ll do, pig,” Amy said soothingly, patting him on the arm. “It’s time to go.”
“It is,” Danny agreed with a grin. “Time to go and go time.”
They both gave one last look back at the still-connected frame that would be impossible to wrench apart and Amy grinned. Somehow, it was a house with seven sleeping locations – but she and Danny still made sure that there was only one bed.
Chapter 20: Nerves – Charlie’s POV:
Warm.
Charlie was so warm.
He was warm, pleasantly warm, his whole body soaked through with that feeling.
Warm, soft.
Soft, warm.
Words drifted across Charlie’s mind as he spun in that lazy place between sleep and waking, the space he had occupied for hours. Eyes too heavy to open, Charlie breathed in deeply, allowing himself to fully experience his body.
Charlie’s feet, almost always freezing when he slept, were interlaced with Nick’s legs. Charlie’s right foot was tangled between Nick’s shins. He moved his foot just slightly, the rough-smooth feeling of Nick’s leg hair against the arch of his foot providing yet another stunning confirmation that they were indeed in bed together.
Charlie’s attention drew up to his hips, twisted at a slightly awkward angle. He was laying somewhere between his left side and his stomach, Nick’s right arm slung over his chest. A smile stole slowly over Charlie’s face in the darkness, imagining how the intensity of Nick’s monstrously strong arm cuddles must have smooshed him towards his stomach.
Charlie drew in another inhale, rolling slightly so that he was properly on his side again. Nick stirred and let out a sleepy sound, a high-pitched tone that brought a sudden rush of emotions to Charlie’s throat. That quiet, gentle, uncensored sound – that it almost felt like the sound of vulnerability itself. Charlie kept his eyes closed, a few warm tears welling between his eyelashes and slipping silently down his cheek.
Warm.
Soft.
Nick was so warm and soft.
Traveling back up his body, Charlie marveled in the easy pattern of Nick’s breath, his chest against Charlie’s back. With their bodies together like this and with Charlie’s brain still in that hazy, shimmering sleep space, he could imagine that Nick’s inhales lifted Charlie and filled his lungs with breath. Then they exhaled together, breath spilling into the room and wrapping back around then like ever-increasing, gentle layers.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Soft, warm breath on the back of his neck.
A rush of cooler air as Nick breathed in for both of them.
Warmth. Breath. Softness.
Charlie sighed, a similarly open sound to Nick’s spilling out of his throat. It was almost a murmur – or maybe a prayer. Charlie had never been religious, but perhaps this was what it felt like. Maybe it felt like the promise of an unimaginable future. Maybe it felt like utter, bone-deep gratitude for where he was. Maybe it felt like never wanting a moment to end, living in rapture forever. Charlie’s hazy reverie was interrupted when this time, Nick stirred again, now rolling onto his back and pulling Charlie along with him.
Hands. Nick’s hands were on him. One hand was on his back, the other on the back of his head. Nick’s hands were cradling Charlie to his body, warm and soft. Nick’s breath was cradling Charlie in the air, a rhythmic rocking that drew heaviness over his eyes.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Warm, soft.
Soft, warm.
Warm.
Soft.
Safe.
Chapter 63: Deleted Scenes from Lavender Fields: Part III of III
Summary:
The last batch of deleted scenes from Lavender Fields!
Notes:
Did you see the chapter count change? Maybe. Do I know when that final (ACTUALLY FINAL, DANNY, DO NOT TEST ME) chapter will be published? Not yet. Enjoy some deleted scenes!
Chapter Text
Heat: Nick’s POV
Charlie stepped into the house and Nick followed, closing the door behind them.
“Wow,” Charlie said, nodding his head as he looked around the empty dining room. “Looks a little different in here than just a few minutes ago.”
Nick nodded. “Sounds different, too.”
For the last few days the house has been filled with a cacophony of voices reverberating warmly off the walls and filling up the rooms. In the past, the moments after the Badgers (or Charlie) left Lavender Fields would leave a gutting hollowness in Nick’s chest.
Not this time, though.
“Want me to make it sound like they’re all here again?” Charlie asked with a cheeky grin that sent a thrill of shivery energy through Nick’s belly. “I can do a killer Darcy impression.”
Nick laughed. “I don’t think we have enough vodka left in the house to do a Darcy impression.”
Charlie snorted, then groaned and made a face. “Let’s make a pact. Let’s never, ever, drink again.” He paused. “Until dinner.”
Nick laughed again, loudly. God, Charlie was just — well, Nick didn’t even know the right word for it. What was a word that could sum up the way just being around Charlie softened his whole chest? How could a single word encompass the way Nick was both at ease and shimmering with excitement when they were together? The Germans probably had a word for that. Probably something like… soüllenspärkenmaat.
“Agreed,” Nick replied finally with a smile, realizing that he’d probably been staring at Charlie like a moon-eyed version of a portrait person. He cleared his throat. “I was going to head down and throw some grain for the girls, I’ll be back in just a few.”
Charlie looked at Nick, an adorably shy smile on his face. “Fancy some company?”
It was ridiculous for Nick to blush at Charlie’s tiny flirtation when they’d already shared a bed and kissed, but he did. “If it’s the demon girl from down the road who bites people’s toes off while they sleep, I’ll pass. If it’s you, then yes.”
“Nick!” Charlie protested as he tried to swat at Nick’s arm, Nick dodging and laughing. “You know that after pond-dwelling brain-eating amoebas and geese that little girl ghosts scare me the most!”
They were both still laughing as they went down to the barn, arms brushing against one another as they walked across the road. Nick tried to savor even that tiny moment. There had been endless times that he’d seen Danny and James walk or sit unnecessarily close to one another, and now he got it. When it was that miraculous to find a person like Charlie in the world, why wouldn’t he want to be as close as possible?
“Hi Nellie girl,” Charlie crooned as they approached the barn, the girls poking their heads curiously around the fence as they came round the corner. “Hi sweet Hen.” After a moment, he turned and looked at Nick, who was leaning against the fence and grinning. “What?”
“Nothing,” Nick said, shaking his head fondly. “I’m just thinking back to the first time you met the girls. You looked like you thought they were going to eat you.”
“I did not,” Charlie protested, though he was laughing.
“And you also called it – oh, what did you say – the cow boob?”
Charlie dissolved into giggles, and Nick joined in. “I’m sorry that I’m not well versed in cow anatomy. My uni didn’t offer a Farmyard Facts course.”
“Oh, Charlie,” Nick replied with a shake of his head. “True farmers only take maths and geometry courses.”
Charlie froze for a moment in confusion, then his face shifted into a long-suffering expression which made Nick‘s heart inexpressibly ache with fondness. When he spoke again, his voice was hilariously flat. “What fresh hell is this?”
“Yeah,” nodded Nick confidently. “Only geometry because they’re protractor.” He laughed uproariously as Charlie rolled his eyes up in his head and slowly slumped onto the fence like a doll with broken strings. “Get it Charlie?! Protractor? Like, tractor—“
Despite his quality acting, Charlie’s back was bouncing up and down on the fence with giggles. He raised his head and Nick moved closer, nudging their shoulders together. Charlie looked up as their bodies touched, and Nick looked at him solemnly.
“Sorry,” Nick whispered. “It’s probably too soon to talk about protractors anyway. The inventor of them just died.” Nick looked up somberly. “He's with the angles now.”
Charlie erupted in laughter, and Nick‘s chest warmed at the incredible sound. They were giggling together the rest of the time they were at the barn, and even on their way up.
Every moment, Nick mused as they went back into the warm embrace of the Lavender Fields kitchen a little bit later. Every moment with Charlie was one that he never wanted to miss.
Home: Charlie’s POV
“Ahem.”
…
“A- hem.”
…
“A-fucking- HEM!”
Charlie looked up from his phone, a few of his vertebrae popping as he did. He rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head at Anita. “What?”
Anita smirked. “I know that I’m a lot less interesting than those sexy selfies that I’m sure Nick is sending you, but you need to talk to me for at least forty seconds over lunch.”
Charlie blushed and turned his head, his cheeks hot. “I wasn’t talking to Nick!”
“Mm,” Anita said with a droll nod. “Let me rephrase. Stop scrolling back through adorable text messages that man sent you and pay attention to the woman who bought you lunch, you freeloading editor of… free-loadingness.”
Charlie laughed, which gave him time to compose himself. Yes, he might have been looking at messages that Nick had sent, and yes, it was mildly embarrassing that Anita was entirely confident that was what he was doing. “I’m sorry,” he said, setting his phone face down on the table and propping his head in his hands. Charlie widened his eyes and stared as intensely as he could at Anita. “Tell me what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling about what you’re thinking and what thoughts those feelings bring up.”
Anita laughed loudly. “Oh, no – I don’t want to not talk about you, I just want you to share the juicy details with me instead of keeping them for yourself.”
Charlie dabbed the corner of his mouth in a theatrically dainty way, lifting his chin. “Shouldn’t some things be kept private?”
“The only things that should be kept private between us is my embarrassing love of unauthorized Celine Dion documentaries and the fact that I have one weird chest hair that sometimes grows right between my boobs,” Anita scoffed. Charlie choked on a sip of his iced tea and she grinned. “So, how is your hot farmer?”
Charlie snorted, shaking his head. “My what?”
“Your beefy man of the land,” Anita supplied helpfully. “No? You don’t call him that when you’re snuggling in the lavender flowers together? Your soulful soil-grower? Your meaty manager of crops? Your–”
“Jesus, how are you coming up with these?!” Charlie demanded, his shoulders shaking with giggles.
Anita tsk-ed. “Jesus has nothing to do with it, Charlie my love.”
Charlie laughed again and rolled his eyes, then instinctively glanced at his phone. “It’s good,” he said shyly, ready to stop. But the words came rolling up and out of his chest, unstoppable even if he had wanted to. “It’s… it’s great.”
Anita smiled, her whole face lighting up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, his chest glowing warm. He paused. This was such a different feeling. With Ben, he had tried to sidestep conversations like this. He’d offer as little as possible, knowing that the deeper someone dug, the more darkness could be uncovered. Charlie knew that saying less was safer, because something could make its way back to Ben.
With Nick, Charlie could have spoken for hours. He could have written sonnets (if he had any skill at that sort of thing). His adoration for Nick and what they had could fill songs, poems, skywriting, and endless books with beautifully flowing words. And there was no danger in those words, either – no illogical but palpable threat that talking about his feelings might open them to being snatched away from him. He could speak about Nick without the terror that the next day, Nick might leave and Charlie would have been the idiot gushing about a man who didn’t care about him at all. With Nick, Charlie could finally say all of the gorgeous, gilded thoughts that shimmered in his brain to someone else.
He smiled at Anita once again, joy trickling through his body and filling up any empty spaces as he settled in to talk about how it truly was going. “It’s so, so amazing.”
Embers: Vodafone's POV
9:23 am
C. Spring: omg someone farted in this meeting when they weren’t on mute
nnelson: Seriously? 😂 That’s fucking hilarious
nnelson: … was it you?
C. Spring: [Katherine Hahn ‘gasp’ GIF]
C. Spring: how very DARE you sir
C. Spring: I am demure and coy and emit no gasses
C. Spring: gases?
C. Spring: bad air
nnelson: LOL
nnelson: I think gasses is a verb – like, to gas something. To spray gas on it.
nnelson: Wait, can you spray gas? Whatever. Yeah, I just looked it up and apparently gasses is the verb and gases is the noun
C. Spring: hey, the dictionary store called. they ran out of nerdiness and they were hoping you could come by and rub yourself on the walls
nnelson: I’ll rub myself on YOUR walls
nnelson: OMG that sounded filthy
nnelson: CTRL Z!!!
C. Spring: 😂😂😂😂😂😂 omg I had to turn my camera off
C. Spring: you are utterly ridiculous and I am DYING
C. Spring: also I love that you tried to do ‘edit-undo’ via text message
nnelson: I was hoping there was an iPhone update that would have listened to me
C. Spring: 😂😂😂 i am still laughing
C. Spring: lucky you’re cute
nnelson: Cute? Try savagely handsome
nnelson: You’re the one who’s cute. And hot. And adorable. And sexy.
C. Spring: NICK
C. Spring: anita is messaging me making fun of me bc my camera is still off
C. Spring: you’re making me blush
nnelson: You’re even cuter when you blush
C. Spring: omg
C. Spring: fuck I have to actually present now
C. Spring: i’m still blushing
nnelson: Tell them you have ebola? That does, like, blood stuff, right?
C. Spring: yeah, like makes it come out of your eyeballs I think?
nnelson: That should make the video call interesting.
C. Spring: lol talk to you soon
10:02 am
C. Spring: anita made it her mission to fully break me on that video call
nnelson: LOL, what do you mean?
C. Spring: she waited until i was presenting and then sent me the most insane messages
C. Spring: one was a gif of a person dressed in a penis costume just sadly biking
C. Spring: i had to fake a coughing fit
nnelson: LOLOLOLOL Okay, I love Anita
nnelson: I want to meet her
nnelson: More of your friends need to come to Lavender Fields!
C. Spring: 💜
C. Spring: that makes me really happy
nnelson: What does?
C. Spring: just that like… you’re up for meeting my friends. and them coming here.
C. Spring:i just really appreciate that
nnelson: It’s all selfish, Spring. Less you visiting friends in London means more time here.
nnelson: And that’s what Henry and Nellie want.
nnelson: I couldn’t be bothered, but you know, it’s for the girls.
C. Spring: ofc. for the girls.
nnelson: (But actually also for me)
C. Spring: lol nick, you can’t even go more than 8 seconds of sarcasm without being sweet
nnelson: Speaking of sweet, anything you want me to bake this week?
C. Spring: maybe just some… buns
C. Spring: some toasty, toasty buns
nnelson: I can offer blazingly white, underbaked buns. Are those of interest?
C. Spring: lmao. yes. gimme those pale squishy buns
nnelson: they’ll be waiting for you 😘
11:54 pm
nnelson: Are you hungry? I made those chicken lettuce wraps
C. Spring: omg seriously? YES i am so fucking hungry
C. Spring: you are the best
nnelson: I really am.
C. Spring: 😐
C. Spring: just kidding - thank you for thinking of me ♥️
nnelson: 💜
C. Spring: 🖤
nnelson: 🫀
C. Spring: urgh
C. Spring: why are emoji hearts cute and actual anatomical hearts not?
nnelson: I don’t know, I think it’s aorta cute
C. Spring: …
nnelson: Do these jokes not get your blood pumping?
C. Spring: I… I just…
nnelson: Maybe you prefer blood type jokes? Come on, Charlie, B positive!
C. Spring: The number you have messaged has blocked you. You will not be able to send or receive messages from this number.
nnelson: Can I still receive a snog from this number later?
C. Spring: yes
C. Spring: i mean, new phone, who dis
nnelson: Dis is Nick. Dis is Nick Nelson. I’m famous, you have probably heard of me.
C. Spring: ah, yes, son of the famed sarah nelson, collector of men’s hearts
nnelson: CHARLIE
C. Spring: what? did that joke hit a little too close to the… mark?
nnelson: AHHHH I am conflicted because I HATE this and I LOVE that you made a pun
nnelson: This is like eating olives with chocolate cake
C. Spring: that’s right, i forgot you are a monster
nnelson: LOL
nnelson: I’ll leave lunch outside your door, sounds like you’re on a call still
C. Spring: you’re truly the best
C. Spring: no, simply the best
nnelson: It’s like you WANT me to lip sync Tina Turner tonight
C. Spring: …wait, I do want that
nnelson: See you on the stage at 5 then 🤩
Travel: Nick’s POV
This was going to be romantic as fuck.
Nick hummed a self-satisfied note as he applied the final, perfect touches. The bath was drawn, bubbles frothing up from one of the Lavender Fields bath bombs that Nick picked out of the shed. The lights were low (or rather, off. There was no dimmer switch in the bathroom, unfortunately). Candles flickered around the tiled room, flickering and casting the room in a warm, orange light.
Nick had perused the candle section of the stationary store for a while when he went to town during Charlie’s work day, looking for just the right olfactory sensation. Pine was a bit too much like a forest, and Plumeria was both too floral and sounded like an old-time euphemism for an STI. There had been one that Nick picked up called Tobacco Smoke, immediately rejecting its smell that was clearly targeted towards MANLY MEN who wanted MAN-SCENTED TOUGH MANLY THINGS that were packaged in MANLY COLOURS like BLACK and DARK BLACK. He’d settled on pumpkin bourbon, which was rich and delicious – just like the sensation of kissing Charlie.
Nick glanced around once more and nodded to himself, happy with the scene. This was some grade-one romance, he confirmed, running his fingers through his hair to affect a rakish look before clearing his throat. Every moment with Charlie felt so perfect, and Nick had been dying to give him the perfect, fairy-tale experience in return. “Charlie?”
The door to the bathroom slowly opened, revealing the smiling, gorgeous face that felt like part of Nick’s heart. “Am I finally allowed to come in?”
“You’ve been very patient,” Nick said, extending his hand and taking Charlie’s. “And you look adorable in that robe.”
Charlie grinned and blushed. “I’ve rarely been handed a robe at the end of my work day and told to strip down and put it on. Rarely, not never.” His sparkling blue eyes swept around the room and landed on the tub. “What’s all this?”
Nick pulled Charlie in by the waist and kissed him, the sensation still sending a thrill of butterflies through his stomach even after two weeks of this magic. “Just something for the two of us.”
Charlie shook his head and pulled his arms from around Nick’s neck, tapping both hands on Nick’s bare chest. “You’re…” He shook his head at Nick, face glowing. “This is really romantic, Nick.” Charlie blushed and looked away, which benefitted Nick as he internally preened.
Nailed it. Nick composed himself, holding out his hand and drawing Charlie towards the bath. “Shall we?”
Charlie dropped his robe, sending Nick’s heart shooting directly into his penis. Charlie sent Nick a wildly sexy ghost of a wink before he paused, hesitating. “Should I get in first, or…?”
“Here, I can,” Nick offered. He made a show of dropping his robe, covering up his pecs with his hands while leaving his dick totally exposed and making Charlie laugh. He laughed too, then climbed into the bath and put on an inviting smile. “Join me?”
Charlie replied only with his gorgeous grin, stepping into the water and then attempting to settle onto Nick’s lap. “Oh Christ!” They both yelped when the water sloshed over the side of the tub, the mass of both of their bodies greater than Nick had anticipated.
“Shit,” Nick muttered, reaching forward and leaning around Charlie’s body to unstopper the drain. The both hovered uncomfortably for a moment, Charlie holding himself up and Nick trying not to push Charlie too far out of the water. Once the water level seemed more reasonable, Nick pulled Charlie back onto his lap, already anticipating the delicious warm slide of skin and skin as romance swirled around them. The water on the floor (and about 46% of the bubbles) could wait to be cleaned up later. Now was the time for romance.
Charlie maneuvered for a moment, and then settled onto Nick’s lap. “Oh,” he said, looking down and giggling. With the water lower, there was no longer a risk of flooding, but it did mean that Charlie was sitting atop Nick’s body, entirely exposed to the air.
“Fuck,” Nick groaned, though he giggled too. The sight was just too funny, Charlie perched like a sparrow on top of a slide. “Maybe we can try…”
“Why don’t I go to the other end?” suggested Charlie. He lifted himself up by the edge of the bath and swiveled, giving Nick a mouth-watering glance of his perfect, firm bum.
“Will you be okay by the tap?” Nick murmured, brain addled by arse.
“Yeah, I think…” Charlie said as he slowly lowered himself down again, leaning to the side to avoid his back digging into the metal. They both held their breath as Charlie set himself in the water as if that might keep it from spilling again. The water rose higher and higher, but didn’t spill. Finally, Charlie was fully immersed, the water line only flirting with the top of the tub.
“Docking complete,” Nick whispered, and both of them burst into giggles. Come on now, Nelson, it’s romance time, he scolded himself, not wanting to lose the beautiful moment. “Are you comfortable?”
“I think I can get there…” Charlie said as he adjusted his feet, trying to make the space work. He stepped one foot on the side of each of Nick’s thighs, but that made his back slip down and dig into the faucet. Then they tried with Charlie’s legs between Nick’s, though that ended up feeling like Charlie was trying to knead Nick’s penis with the arches of his feet. “Oh my god,” Charlie giggled as they both attempted to fit two bodies in a space clearly fit for one Victorian-era-sized person.
“Maybe we try you back here with me again?” Nick suggested. Charlie nodded and clambered over again, rotating his body so that both of them were against the back of the tub once more. “I’ll move over,” said Nick, turning his body to the side like they were spooning so Charlie could be in the water, too. “Here, I’ll– WHOOP!”
Nick yelped as he slipped on the bottom of the tub, sliding down the sloped edge and ducking himself in the water. He emerged dripping and laughing, Charlie’s giggles bouncing off the tiled walls.
“Oh my god, Nick,” Charlie choked out through his laughter, leaning his head back against Nick’s shoulder. The end of his curls were wet, and Nick buried his face in their sweet scent for a moment. “This is so ridiculous.”
“I know,” Nick moaned, speaking into Charlie’s shoulder. He leaned his head against Charlie’s and sighed morosely. “I thought I had planned this out so well. Our showers together are the best thing ever and I thought a bath would be all romantic and we’d cuddle in bubbles and it would be perfect.” He raised his head up and gave a wide arch of his neck to gesture around the soaked room. “This isn’t perfect at all!”
Charlie twisted around, a smile lighting up his face. He kissed Nick once gently. “It is perfect,” he said, a beautiful grin blossoming across his cheeks, before kissing Nick once again, lips soft as he drew back to tap his forehead against Nick’s. “This is perfect.”
Badgers 2: James’s POV
James smiled as a strong pair of arms wrapped around him, a chest against his back. One hand slipped to his hip, fingers teasingly at the top of his jeans. The other snaked up his torso and pressed against his chest as Danny put his lips against James’s ear.
James could hear the grin in Danny’s voice as he shimmied his shoulders and chanted in a lilt. “I know about seee-eeeex, I know about seeee-eeeex.”
James laughed and turned around so that he and Danny were embracing one another, chest to chest. “Historically, I think anyone who sings that they know about sex tends to not know much about sex.”
Danny made a show of clamping his legs around James’s thigh and rocking up and down like a dog infested with some sex-crazed version of rabies. “Ah, cointreau,” he cooed, making James laugh again. “I know all about the sex. We’ve had it over four times.”
“Less than eight, though,” James replied. They both grinned and tipped their foreheads together, bodies loose and happy with drink and friends.
All around them, bodies were moving, bathed in the lights from Danny’s ever-present multicoloured disco ball. James loved these nights. He loved that he could have these nights, ones that when he was younger he never imagined were possible. Here they were, in their house – their house that they shared together. They were teammates and rugby lads and fiances and they could be all of those things, surrounded and supported by the people in their lives. James took a deep breath in and rested in the warm crash of gratitude through his chest. This was his life.
James smiled and reached a hand into Danny’s hair, smoothing back the unruly strands the best he could. “Okay, what do you know about sex?”
“I know that they’re gonna have it,” Danny beamed, releasing James’s body in order to point at Nick and Charlie with both hands, making little Star Wars-esque pew pew sounds with his outstretched fingers.
“You are so embarrassing,” James hissed as he dragged Danny’s arms back down, though he was giggling.
“You want me to bare my ass?” Danny asked, batting his eyelashes. “All you had to do was ask.”
James laughed and seized Danny’s arms again as he pretended like he was about to strip off his pants. Well, at least, James thought Danny was pretending. James turned so that he could see Nick and Charlie as well, wrapping his arms around Danny from behind this time to avoid any other hand- or arm-based social crimes. Nick and Charlie were also in each other’s arms, both of their faces periodically illuminated from the lazily spinning disco ball.
James’s gaze stayed on the two men, their bodies close together. The longer he looked, the more it seemed as though the light on their faces was coming from Nick and Charlie themselves. They were aglow, eyes on each other like the dozens of other people in the room didn’t exist at all. James could feel that look in his body. In the way their arms draped around each other, in the way their eyes lingered on one another, in the way Nick’s fingers gently lifted up Charlie’s chin or in the way Charlie’s hand smoothed back Nick’s hair, he could feel it. It was the feeling that he had with Danny – of pure trust, desire, and safety. James smiled, swallowing back a rise of emotion that threatened to knot up his throat.
“They gonna fuck.”
James yelped out a laugh, immediately pulled out of his reverie by Danny’s grinningly confident declaration in his ear. “You’re such a romantic.”
“Romant-dick,” Danny corrected automatically. “But look at them. They’re done for.”
James looked over once more, smiling gently at the two men before turning once more to wrap his arms around the man who made him feel like they looked. Sure, Nick and Charlie were going to have sex, and he was sure it would be amazing. But beyond that – they were going to have a future.
James could tell.
Talks: Charlie’s POV
The light was fading from the sky as Charlie and Nick walked back from the pier, arms tucked together and bodies close. It might have been dimming around them, but as they walked, Charlie was filled with light.
Boyfriend. Nick was his boyfriend, and Charlie was Nick’s. They were dating, like – officially. It was astonishing, Charlie thought, how such a simple assurance could completely change the way he felt. (He did also wryly think that it was also astonishing that he and Nick had been thinking the same thing, and had just failed to talk about it. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned from that…)
Charlie felt incredibly comfortable when it was him and Nick, covered by the warm blanket of safety and privacy that was Lavender Fields. When it had been just them, it was amazing how little time Charlie spent in his own head, trapped behind the spinning thoughts with their barbed edges that had ripped at him with Ben. With Nick, he was the closest that he had ever been to just… being.
It was the times when they were out in public together when Charlie felt the walls of the prison pressing in around him, choking and constraining him with harsh whispers. They were different to the whispers that surrounded him with Ben, noticeably less centred on Charlie’s own inadequacies. Still, they had swirled in his head – at the dinner out back at Lavender Fields, at coffee shops and places that they had stopped during the trip, at the match, grim reminders to stay in check and stay small.
Don’t embarrass Nick. Don’t be too needy, that will attract attention to the two of you. Don’t sit too close to Nick. Don’t do anything that will raise questions or eyebrows. Introduce yourself as Nick’s friend so that he doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable. Don’t do anything that would make Nick uncomfortable. You can look at him, but don’t look at him too long. Stay quiet in a group of new people, don’t do anything that will turn heads. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a fuss. Don’t wish for anything else, this is just what it is. This isn’t about you – this is about Nick.
Keep Nick safe.
Versions of those thoughts had echoed around Charlie’s head for most of the past weekend, even though he hadn’t always realised it. In fact, it was really only now that he was fully aware of how quiet it was inside his brain. It was as though the walls that had constrained him hadn’t even crumbled – they’d evaporated entirely.
Charlie looked over at Nick, who looked over and squeezed Charlie’s arm with his own, smiling. “Hey,” Nick said, the warmth in his voice wrapping around Charlie like a warm bath.
“Hey,” Charlie replied, his cheeks colouring in the rapidly-cooling air with the sheer joy of comfort. He smiled back at Nick, freer and more at peace than ever before. There were no more don’t s floating in his head. He and Nick were together, properly together, and Charlie couldn’t access a don’t if he had tried to. He didn’t need to prevent his feelings from spilling out now. And what was even more astonishing was that he didn’t need to protect Nick the way he’d been focused on for weeks. Nick chose to go on this public trip with Charlie. Nick chose to take his hand. Nick chose to talk to him about being boyfriends.
Nick chose Charlie.
“Hey,” Charlie repeated, stopping for a moment as they drew closer to the cottage. “I like you.”
Nick’s grin was broad and boundless. He released Charlie’s arm and tugged him into his chest for a momentary warm embrace. “I like you too.” Nick released Charlie once again and this time, took his hand as they turned onto the street where they were staying.
“As a friend,” Charlie clarified, nodding his head in a businesslike way.
Nick laughed, a throaty and gorgeous sound. “Yeah, I meant as a flatmate.”
Charlie nodded. “As a platonic house-sharing agreement.”
“As a semi-passable sous chef,” Nick agreed seriously.
Charlie laughed and bumped Nick with his hip. “Rude!”
“As a perfectly mediocre sous chef,” Nick amended.
They both laughed, and Nick released Charlie’s hand to take the key out of his pocket and unlock the door of the cottage. He held the door open for Charlie, sneaking the briefest kiss on the tip of Charlie’s nose as he passed. Despite the bitter cold that had started to seep into his bones from the dark walk home, Charlie felt nothing but warm and light
Together: Nick’s POV
Nick couldn’t help himself from grinning as he and Charlie slid into the booth at the restaurant. They were sitting across from one another at a prime table, tucked in the corner and up against a window that overlooked the small clock tower that sat in the middle of Clevedon. Nick’s eyes lingered on the clock for a moment before irresistibly drawing back to Charlie’s face. It felt like time had been taunting them since they met. Now, the clock and its relentless drive forward no longer mattered. They had all the time in the world.
“What’re you smiling at?” Charlie asked, a similarly happy expression on his face.
Nick winked, chest buzzing with silly and happy energy. “You.” He laughed when Charlie mimed throwing up on the table.
“I swear, Nick, there’s going to be a public information film on you some day.”
Nick tossed his head. “On the dangers of looking directly at me without eye protection for my staggering beauty?”
Charlie snorted. “More so the effects of Nick Nelson on blood glucose levels and how to avoid falling prey to his sugary wiles.”
Nick reached over and took a sugar packet, theatrically rubbing it against his cheek. “You’re looking at this all wrong, Charlie. Sweets companies would save millions on adding sugar to their confectioneries if they just let me dip a finger into the ingredients.” He waggled the packet between two fingers, then opened it and put his pinkie in. “See? This was sour before it touched my cheek. Now it’s sweet as a nut.”
“You’re a nut,” Charlie volleyed, his cheeks tight with what Nick knew was a barely-suppressed smile.
“You’re nuts about me,” Nick purred, making Charlie laugh.
“I really am,” Charlie replied with a resigned sigh. “Though you’d never be able to get me to admit it in public, not even if you tortured it out of me.”
“What if I kissed it out of you?”
“That… would work,” Charlie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That would work very well.”
They were both giggling when the waitress came over to take their orders. Neither of them were ready, because neither of them had even glanced at the menus. When Nick was sitting across from Charlie, was he really expected to look at a piece of raggedy laminated list of options instead of the ruggedly laminated cheekbones of Charlie Spring?
Okay, maybe Charlie did have a point.
It only took two more check-ins from the waitress before they were ready, eventually deciding to split one sweet and one savoury item. Nick had privately scoured the menu, seeking out the most fibrous options for the savoury item pick. Danny had instilled in him a lot of wisdom about the best foods to select before bottoming. Nick of course had not asked for that information, but Danny had been nothing but eager (and, perhaps not ironically, regular) in his text message missives. There was a tickly thrill between Nick’s legs that had sparkled there since he and Charlie had first talked about sex, and it had only grown stronger since the night before. God, to see Charlie like that, awash in pleasure – that alone had almost sent Nick over the edge. Even thinking back now…
Nick reached out for his water, nearly sloshing it on himself in his zest to cool his body. That was later. This was now.
Now, he and Charlie could go out to breakfast together. They could make jokes, smile at one another over the table, touch their legs together underneath it. Throughout their meal, Nick marvelled at how incredible this all felt. There were no words to describe what it was like to share a breakfast together, reaching forks over to each others’ plates without worrying about what other people might think, or what one another might think. It was simple and domestic, and it was all Nick wanted.
“Were there any shops in town that you wanted to stop into after breakfast?” Charlie asked as they both reclined in the booth, full and happy.
“Not really,” Nick replied. “Honestly, I’d rather just walk by the sea if that’s fine with you. I’ve missed living by the water while I’ve been at Lavender Fields.”
Charlie smirked, the expression sending another sizzle through Nick’s body. “Yes, because the seaside views are amazing in Leeds.”
Nick snorted. “Dick. I’ve lived by the water a lot of my life – I have played for other teams, you know!”
“Oh, I know,” said Charlie with a raised eyebrow. “And I for one really like that you’ve played for more than one team.”
“Hey!” Nick protested, laughing. “I’m, like, 30% sure that’s biphobic.”
They both laughed and stood up, Nick lightly touching Charlie’s back as they made their way back through to the front door. As they left, Nick glanced back up at the tower clock before smiling and taking Charlie’s hand. Time didn’t matter for them anymore.
They had all the time in the world.
Apart: Sarah’s POV (PS - read Sowing Wild Lavender by yojfull!)
Goodness, seeing Mike had been a real shock. Sarah had never imagined that he would have returned, what with having planned a move to support his aging parents. Over messaging later, she found out that his sister and her family had all decided to move in with their parents, leaving Mike free to come back to town and settle into his music shop. Yes, that had been quite shocking indeed – though, Sarah had to admit – perhaps a bigger shock for Nicky. Oh, Nicky, her sweet, wonderful boy. Her naive, perfect, had-convinced-himself-he-was-immaculate-conception man.
Seeing Mike brought back a flood of memories for Sarah, both ones specific to him, but also a myriad of other reflections. She thought back to her divorce, after which she had no interest in dating. Honestly, for the first few years at Lavender Fields, Sarah was convinced that cows were enough company. They were certainly less stressful and never spoke back. To be fair, if she asked them to do something that they weren’t interested in, they did look at her bale-fully. Oh, she needed to tell Nick that one.
There had been a stretch of years both before and after the divorce where Sarah had begun to feel sexless. She remembered the desire for sex and that passionate, fluttering, breath-catching excitement of having interest in someone and them having interest in her. She remembered that, but it felt inaccessible, a lost edge of a dream after she’d already woken up. Her relationship with Stéphane has been powerful and exciting at the start, a whirl of kisses and sex and whispered promises against her throat.
The death had been slow, so slow that Sarah hadn’t noticed when it had been months since they’d last touched one another. The last few years with Stéphane had been exhausting, his arrogance and self-centredness a crushing burden to come home to after working all day. That exhaustion had done nothing to feed her passions. Instead, it ground them down until she herself felt as though she was made of stone.
It had taken a few years at Lavender Fields (and a few new toy purchases) to start to feel a spark inside herself again, a curiosity that there could be other things in the world for her. She considered what it might be like to date, but then had to fight a new series of battles just with herself.
I’m no longer young, who would want to date a middle-aged farmer woman?
When I dated before, I was young, gorgeous, desirable. I’ll never be that again.
Even if I do date, what does that look like? Isn’t it silly to call someone a boyfriend or a girlfriend when you’re in your near-sixties?
Though Sarah had continued to wonder about what it would feel like to open up to another person again, it had taken another few years before she overcame the anxieties that swirled in her mind. She was satisfied with her inn, her animals, and her vibrators – at least for a while.
The longer Sarah spent in town, the more her passions began to awaken again. It wasn’t sexual passions at first, but just passions. For so long, Sarah had been a wife and mother. She’d had a career, yes, but that had taken a backseat for the other things that defined her. It started just with finding people who shared the same interests as her – cooking, gardening, baking, cows, painting, flowers. She relished what it felt like to engage in rich conversation not about the other people in her life who defined her, but the things that fed her own soul.
Conversations led to community, and community led to closeness with some people. At first, Sarah still battled against the feelings of “silliness”.
It’s too silly at my age to have a man place his hand on my leg, even briefly
It’s too silly to have kisses drawn up the side of my neck
It’s too silly to have a mouth – there – something that she had not experienced in ages
The more Sarah experienced and grew, the more she could feel herself changing. It was as if the stone she felt she’d turned into was slowly being eroded – not to be something less, but to reveal the rich layers that had been covered. Mike had been one of the people who had helped her reignite and trust the spark in herself. He might not be her forever person, and that was fine.
Passion for the sake of passion (as long as your son never found out) was lovely, too. And who knows, maybe there was no forever person for her. She could be her own forever person and be perfectly content.
But Nick and Charlie – oh, Nick and Charlie. Sarah’s heart was breaking for the two of them. Charlie… he was Nick’s spark. She saw the way he helped bring that light back into Nick’s eyes, the one that had flickered after everything with his dad. Sarah never truly worried about Nick being happy, but seeing him now, she realised just now much more brightly he could glow.
Nick told her about the conversation he and Charlie had, both of them agreeing (and assuring each other, so it sounded) that they weren’t going to break up. They knew they were each others’ forever, even if they couldn’t voice it yet.
She knew they would get through this. One or both of them would realise that the answer was simple – throw off inhibitions and fear and choose life. Nick could move, or Charlie could. They’d move in with one another and raise children or dogs or ferrets or plants or whatever made them happy. Hopefully not ferrets, though, Sarah mused. They were very squirmy and she’d heard they smelled badly.
Regardless, Nick and Charlie would get through this. The path was clear, even if the two of them couldn’t see it yet. They’d figure it out, and the few short months of heartache would more than be made up for with a lifetime of love. They’d get there. Just like realising their feelings for one another, they’d get there. They were each other’s forever.
They were Nick and Charlie.
There: Tao’s POV
Tao was about ready to punch Charlie in the face. Well, metaphorically. Maybe “punch” him with sharp logic and a sternly-worded message.
He’d seen Charlie with Ben, and it had been gutting. It had been clear to Tao immediately: Ben was shit. Charlie was wonderful. Ben was a selfish prick. Charlie was generous and kind. Ben was closed, cold, and cruel. Charlie was none of those.
Tao wanted Charlie to end it with Ben a thousand times. He’d told Charlie to end it with Ben a thousand times. There were no logical reasons to stay with someone who was as much of a shitegoblin as Ben was, and it drove Tao mad that Charlie did stay with him.
He and Elle had spoken about it often (most often, it was after Tao had gotten in trouble earlier for saying something entirely correct and reasonable out loud. You don’t need to say everything in your head immediately, Tao, was a common refrain in their home). There had been many nights when Tao was exasperated and simmering with rage – not at Charlie, but with fury at how Charlie was letting himself be treated. Elle would explain patiently over and over that there was both more to it than simple logic and that relationships could manifest patterns that people had developed over their lives.
It made Tao roll his eyes (again, not at all, but again seething with the injustice and the utter inanity of all of it), but then… he did get it, to a degree. He and Elle had seen Charlie during their uni years, when all of them had seen what dating was like and the “quality” of men available in the world. Tao saw what Charlie’s mum was like, a nearly-perfect caricature of what it looked like to have a female version of Ben, one who also withheld praise and affirmation. To be honest, Tao thought Charlie should tell her off, too. (That had been one of the “inside” thoughts he and Elle had discussed.) So, yeah. He’d seen Charlie with Ben.
Tao had also seen him with Nick.
Charlie was an entirely different person with Nick. Though – that wasn’t entirely true. With Nick, Charlie was the purest version of himself, not one that he tried to change. It was the version of Charlie that Tao and Elle got to see, the Charlie that was confident, funny, and sometimes annoyingly sassy. With Ben, Charlie was the 2006 remake of The Wicker Man. With Nick, he was the flawless 1973 original.
Tao hadn’t seen Charlie happy in the entire time he was with Ben. With Nick, he was endlessly happy. He was also endlessly sappy, but Tao could learn to live with that. (Maybe.) What he could not live with is the lunacy of Charlie not choosing to be with Nick.
Charlie loved Nick.
It might have been too soon and a little mad, but it was also true. Nick also clearly loved Charlie. Tao had seen more subtlety in the looks that characters on the cover of a romance novel gave one another. It was utterly clear that Nick was completely in love with Charlie, too.
They loved each other. There were no walls, wars, or borders keeping them apart. Yet here they were, apart.
Charlie told him and Elle that it was far too soon to be thinking about a future with Nick where they lived together. It’s only been a few months, Charlie said, looking at them with the same sad eyes that must have been used to make the pleading emoji. Tao remained utterly mute in that moment, keeping the single-worded inside thought in his brain.
Bullshit.
It was utter bullshit.
Tao remembered when his dad passed away, the memories etched with indelible ink inside his brain. For months, Tao had wracked himself with guilt, thinking of every moment he was annoyed with his father or hadn’t wanted to watch a show with him or anything like that. He remembered using every dandelion wish on begging the universe to let him have just one more moment or one more meal together.
The therapy his mum had done, both for him and them together, helped a lot. What had been the hardest part for him, though, was that Tao wanted an immediate solution. He’d gone into therapy expecting that at the end of it, the pain would be gone. What he had learned (over the course of two decades) was that there was nothing that took the pain away – not of losing his dad or any other loss. Instead, Tao had discovered by degrees that the only way to live was by maximising the moments he had – the ones with his mum, with Elle, with Charlie, with Darcy and Tara.
What was killing him most was that Charlie had the opportunity to maximise the time he had with Nick. Tao would miss him living in London, but far less than how much he missed who Charlie was when he was in London with Ben. And more importantly – Charlie would be happy. That was what Charlie deserved. Charlie deserved that piece of heaven on earth, the one that wasn’t promised after.
Tao had brought up all these thoughts with some trepidation to Elle. He wasn’t sure if she would suggest that it was up to Charlie to decide for himself. He was pleasantly surprised when she whole-heartedly agreed, calling both Charlie and Nick “chucklefucks”, something that she must have picked up from Nick’s rugby lads. Together, they decided that whenever they were next with Charlie, it was time.
It was time for Tao to punch Charlie Spring right in the face with wisdom.
More: Charlie’s POV
“Yeah, one for me and one for Charlie. Yes, Charlie Charlie. I know, yeah. Yeah, he’s here. I know. I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay? Immy! I swear on a plate of Sarah Nelson’s best lemon cookies that I will. Yeah, you too. See you soon.”
Charlie smiled to himself as he lay in bed, eyes still closed. He had awoken to the sound of Nick talking softly on the phone, tone hushed as to not wake Charlie. Charlie didn’t care. Nothing could ever be wrong in the world again. His brain was only functioning at half-speed, but it sounded like Nick was sorting something out with Imogen. Charlie stretched long in bed, a tickly feeling in his stomach and the grin glued to his face. Nick was telling his friends about the two of them.
“Shit,” Nick said in a quiet voice, coming over and getting back on the bed with Charlie. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Charlie reached over and smooshed Nick’s lips between his first three fingers and thumb. “Shhh. It’s fine, I was already awake.”
Nick’s smile pulled his mouth out of Charlie’s gentle grasp. “Liar. My boyfriend is a liar.”
Charlie opened his eyes and booped Nick on the nose. “How dare you, sir. I showed up in the rain like a romantic hero.”
“Yeah, I meant to ask you,” Nick cooed, stroking Charlie’s hair. “Where do you want me to send the cleaning bill for the wet carpet?”
Charlie laughed and they snuggled together, his chin hooked over Nick’s head. He let out a long, contented sigh. “God, this is so nice.”
Nick nodded. “And it feels so different, too, knowing that you’re moving here.” Suddenly, Nick froze and lifted his head, looking sharply at Charlie. “I didn’t dream that, did I?”
“No,” Charlie said with a giggle. “That was very real. It’s happening. I’m moving here.”
Nick smiled and kissed Charlie, soft and sweet. “I had dreams about that, you know.”
Charlie craned his neck back to better look at Nick’s face. “You did?”
“Yeah. I had so many dreams where in it, we were back together, all problems solved. Sometimes you had said you were moving to Leeds, or I said I was moving to London. In one of them, we had both gotten jobs at Lavender Fields and hadn’t realised it until our first day at work.”
Charlie snorted. “I love that both of us ended up working at the giant Lavender Fields corporation and just had no idea.”
Nick laughed, too. “I know. We were, like, in the HR office signing paperwork and then we saw each other.” They both giggled, soft exhales against one another’s faces. “But the clearest parts of all of those dreams was how fucking happy I was,” Nick went on, one hand touching Charlie’s cheek. “It was so clear in the dream, like – yeah. Yeah. This is how it’s supposed to be. This is what I want. This is the life I want.” He looked up at Charlie. “And it was. It is. I’m so fucking happy, Char.”
Charlie’s throat tightened for a moment with emotion, and he pulled Nick into his chest again. “This is the life I want, too.”
Nick smiled tremulously, then tapped his forehead against Charlie’s. “I love you.”
Oh, his whole heart. “I love you too,” Charlie said back, choked with emotion once more.
“God, that feels so good to say!” Nick exclaimed, stretching upwards in bed and pulling Charlie along with him. “I love you!”
Charlie laughed, entirely unbound and delighted. “I love you, too!”
“I love getting to tell you. I love getting to love you. I goddamn love you.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Charlie enthused through his giggles. He felt the same way. He could not express how good and right it was to tell Nick everything – his hopes, his wants, and his love. “We should try out different styles of saying it. Here: Here’s my sad ‘I love you’.” He blinked his eyes exaggeratedly and tilted his head, drawing the corners of his mouth down. “I love you.”
Nick laughed, pulling Charlie into his chest and rocking back and forth. “Oh, that one makes me too sad! I never want to see you look sad again.”
Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Then you better stop making puns.”
“That’ll never happen,” Nick replied, immediately and confidently. “So, never mind. I do want to see you look a little sad again, but only in the pun-related realm.” They both dissolved into laughing again, cuddled close.
“Your turn,” said Charlie. “Try an angry I love you.”
Nick nodded, screwing up his face and whisper-bellowing. “I fucking love you so much, you goddamn prince of perfection!”
Charlie burst out laughing, Nick seizing him. They rolled around the bed for a moment, cuddling in one another’s arms. “God,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, but you like it,” Nick said with a grin. “You made that immeasurably clear when you said you loved me.” He leaned into Charlie’s ear, his voice a soft whisper. “Now you can never escape my dorkiness.”
“I guess I’ll have to live with that,” Charlie said with a huffy sigh. They smiled at one another and drew close, warm and cocooned against the world for a few more moments. They’d have to get up eventually and head to the match, Charlie knew. They would have to get out of this bed where it was only them and be in the world – but that was okay. That was more than okay.
They were going to get up and go out together. He and Nick were going to go out, unafraid to be with each other and unafraid of sharing their feelings with one another. In some of their other mornings together, Charlie would have dreaded getting up and losing this intimacy with one another. Now, though, he knew it was there. It was still there, and it was theirs.
And it was forever.
Forever: Ben’s POV
Ben smirked as he locked his phone. It was so clear what was happening.
Charlie, who knew that he and Ben were still connected on Insta, was all over some rugby idiot’s page. Obviously, this was one of Charlie’s little mind games, just like when they were dating. Charlie knew that Ben would be able to see when Charlie was tagged in a post. Ben had just been doing his normal thing that evening, cycling between Insta and Grindr. He still occasionally checked Charlie’s page, which was normal. Everyone checked out their ex’s page. Ben absolutely knew that Charlie still looked at his constantly. Tonight, he did the regular scan – looking to see if Charlie had posted any stories (he hadn’t), looking at his recent posts (the last one had been at some stupid rugby match), and looking at anything Charlie had been tagged in. There hadn’t been any hits there for a while, but this time paid off.
Once Ben figured out Charlie’s game, he meticulously planned how he was going to win. Charlie was teasing him, dangling the Insta tags like a toy. He wanted Ben to see where he was. He wanted Ben to come out to see him. Charlie clearly wanted Ben to follow him. Ben rolled his eyes as he got ready, pulling on an outfit that he knew would make Charlie swoon. Ben guessed that Charlie would probably pretend to be all cosy with the rugby lads he was out with, maybe even flirting with the least homophobic of them to try to make Ben jealous.
As if that would ever happen.
Ben shook off the clingy twink Matty for the night, telling him that he was busy and wouldn’t make it out that evening. This was when the bullshit with Charlie would finally be over. This was the night that the world was going back to normal. Charlie would do his little show with the morons that he was tagged in the pictures with, but his eyes would be searching for Ben the entire time. Once Charlie saw that Ben had capitulated and shown up like he wanted, it would all be over. Charlie would melt in his hands, Ben would get his life back how it was supposed to be, and things would be right again.
-
Ben stared hard, trying to figure out if the smoky haze floating in the air in the club was obscuring his vision, or if what he saw was actually real.
It hadn’t been hard at all to trace Charlie’s path, not with all the ridiculously obvious clues he was leaving. Charlie and the group of people who were probably just tolerating him went to dinner, then cocktails, and finally, a club that Ben knew well. That was yet another pathetically overt effort on Charlie’s part, picking a bar that Ben had gone to often. Though, Ben had realised once he got there, he’d never actually gone with Charlie. He’d used it more often for cruising and easy hookups. Whatever – Charlie must have snooped on his phone and found out about it. That would be just like him.
No, finding where Charlie was had been easy. What was difficult was trying to understand what was happening now that he was here. Ben narrowed his eyes and edged closer to the group of people in front of him, the rugby lads obviously easy to find. They were the massive, stupid ones who were too loud, too drunk, too annoying, and stereotypically straight. There were women with them (of course), probably some slaggy hanger-on girls who were looking for their fifteen minutes of fame.
Even closer now, Ben’s eyes widened and then narrowed in confusion when he realised that the scene in front of him was real. It was Charlie, dancing with the fucking dickhead from Lavender Fields who had attacked Ben. Ben squared his shoulders and rolled them down his back, flicking his head to the side to toss his hair. That was how Charlie was playing this, then. Clearly, Charlie was cosying up to that douche – Nick, Ben recalled – to make him jealous. That was no surprise.
What was unnerving was how it was working.
A sick, hot swell rose in Ben’s stomach, an acidic burn lapping against his esophagus. Charlie wasn’t just flirting with Nick. He was close to him, hands traveling up and down Nick’s torso. He was dancing with Nick, sometimes even twining a hand into his hair. He was… he was—
Charlie was kissing Nick, there on the dance floor.
Then, instead of pulling away, Nick, he… Nick pulled Charlie closer, his head angling to deepen and intensify the kiss. This was – none of this made sense. None of this could be right. This had to be…
Yeah. Okay, yes. This was a more complex game. It was a gay-friendly bar, and that was commonly known. That Nick guy, he must have been in on this with Charlie, willing to bet that no one would notice a rugby lad kissing a needy, whiny gay boy. That was it, this was some drawn-out plan from Charlie and Nick together to try to drive Ben mad.
Though it didn’t explain the way Nick looked at Charlie at Lavender Fields.
Ben shoved that thought down, furious with the part of his mind that offered it up. That was – that whole thing months ago had just been the rugby idiot being protective, knowing how weak and pathetic Charlie was. That hadn’t been real, and this wasn’t real, either. This was Charlie and his manipulative mind games, and he’d enlisted Nick-the-prick as another way to try to fuck with Ben. It was fine, though. He knew what to do – Ben would fight fire with fire.
He sidled even closer, taking out his phone. Fine, Ben thought. If that’s how you want to play it, Charlie, that’s what we’ll do. Wonder what the news outlets will think of a professional rugby player kissing Charlie fucking Spring at a bar? Ben waited until the two of them were kissing again, his stomach turning as they did. He lifted his phone and snapped a picture, lowering it again to check how it turned out when–
“Oi, are you in need of a medical exam?”
Ben whipped around and unconsciously stepped back when he looked at the unwelcome intrusion. One of the largest men he had ever seen was standing offensively close, head cocked. “What?” he managed to get out, heart hammering in his chest.
“Healthcare is covered in this country, chief,” said the man in a loud, gratingly cheerful tone. It was some godawful accent that Ben placed as Australian. “There’s no need for you to take pictures of my mates kissing to make me shove that phone up your arse for a free colonoscopy.”
“I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Ben muttered, swiping out of his photos app and stepping away again. “I was just taking a picture of the crowd.” He tossed his hair once more, glaring at the man in what he hoped was coming off as haughty and not panicked. “Pretty arrogant of you to assume I care about your friends.”
The man laughed, and for whatever reason, it made Ben’s blood run cold. “Right, got it. Just taking a picture of the crowd, with your phone directly aimed at two men kissing. I believe you.” He leaned closer, a grin on his face. “For the record, I care a lot about my friends. So if you care about the integrity of your anal cavity and prefer to keep it technology-free, I’d encourage you to not take any more photos of them without asking first.”
He clapped Ben on the shoulder hard enough to make his knees quaver, then moved away, singing loudly to the music that was playing.
“Fuck you,” Ben mumbled. He was shaken, which was not the way he wanted to feel. Ben wanted to feel like he usually did – cool, aloof, in control. He squared his jaw and pushed his way to the bar, ordering several drinks. After a few long sips of cheap whisky, he felt better. He was Ben fucking Hope. This was Charlie. Ben could handle any shit Charlie tried to throw his way, and he could put Charlie back into his place while doing this. He just needed to get Charlie alone.
That was all he needed to make it right again.
-
This was wrong. This was all fucking wrong. It was fucking wrong and there was clearly no justice in the goddamn fucking world.
Charlie was with that giant, pathetic oaf.
Matty had cottoned on, and he was probably gone.
The photogs that Ben has desperately contacted on Twitter with ‘exclusive’ news hadn’t contacted him back yet.
Charlie was with someone. Ben was alone. And no one seemed to fucking care.
Ben stumbled slightly as he stormed past the cafés and bars, their music spilling out onto the sidewalk. The whisky in his veins nearly felt as though it was clotting, slowing him and making his brain spin.
You deserve more than him, Charlie said to Matty. I know I did.
Charlie – Charlie. He thought he deserved more than Ben. He thought– Ben hiccuped, which caused some of the beer he was clutching to escape into his throat, burning the whole way down. He coughed, splashing some of it on his jacket.
“Fuck,” Ben muttered furiously, wiping at the fabric. He stopped and leaned against a brick wall, cursing and using his shirt to try to get the liquid off the expensive suede of the jacket.
As Ben paused, a group of loud-mouthed idiots came out of a bar behind him. They were quoting an old sketch from That Mitchell and Webb Look, one that he recognised from years ago.
“Have you noticed that our caps have little pictures of skulls on them?” One of the lads said in a nasally voice, the others already laughing. “Are we the baddies?”
The rest of the group roared in laughter as they passed, several of the others continuing the skit. They went on down the street, and Ben stared at them, brain moving more sluggishly than normal. Another surge of bubbling sickness rose in Ben’s stomach, and this time, he breathed hard through his nose to let it pass. He felt ill, confused. He was disconcerted, but it must have been because he was drunk. That was it. Ben was drunk, and that’s why he felt so poorly.
He swallowed hard against the bile that was in his throat, taking another long drag of the beer. None of this was right. All of this was wrong. Ben had – he hadn’t been shit, right? He’d given Charlie so much. He gave Charlie everything he’d said he needed: a relationship, living together, an engagement. Ben had given him everything.
Ben’s jaw was tight as he continued down the street, mind spinning. He had given Charlie what he needed. He didn’t always give him what he wanted, sure, but that would have been giving away too much. Give too much, and lose what you had.
Ben went grimly down the street, headed towards the empty flat that he used to share with Charlie. The flat that used to be their home together. The flat that Charlie had needed, and that Ben gave to him. That should have been enough, but it wasn’t. Ben should have been far beyond what Charlie needed, but he wasn’t. He thought he’d given Charlie enough, but apparently, he hadn’t.
Unbidden, his mind reeled back to the scene in the club. Charlie and his fuckboy – seeing them had rattled him. It was still rattling him. It wasn’t just the way that they were kissing. It was also how Charlie looked at Nick. It was how Nick leaned over to kiss Charlie on the forehead. It was the way they were laughing together, smiles painted on their faces.
Maybe it hadn’t been enough. The thought felt like it had been inserted in his mind, and Ben wrapped his arms around himself as he walked against the bitter air. The cold cut into his skin as he walked, settling around his cells far deeper than just temperature alone should have. It hadn’t been enough, Ben thought, swallowing against the rising sick in his throat.
Now, Charlie was getting more.
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