Archive of Our Own ^beta

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One, Two, Three, Four;

One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

One, Two, Three, Four;

One, Two -

Charlie is pacing in the living room, counting his steps, breathing fast and heavily when he hears the living room door open. A stern, severely frustrated-looking Jane Spring appears, seeming like she’s about to give Charlie a scolding.

Oh great, it’s Mum, he thinks, unsettling anxiety and anticipation settling over him.

“You can’t just storm away when your cousin asks you something, Charlie! They’re here to see you, they came all the way here for you!” Jane exclaims.

No, they did not and also I didn’t ask for them to come, now did I mum? I didn’t ask to be gleefully paraded around and interrogated with ignorant questions like I've just come back from some exciting mission, did I?  

He wants to say, but he can’t seem to make his vocal chords make any sound. He feels like there’s a black hole in the middle of his chest that’s pulling away all the words and letters and shapes of sentences away from his mouth and into it, like it’s compressing them into a strained ball of rubber bands restlessly waiting to let their potential energy out. His skin feels like it’s vibrating.

“You cannot get up from the table during meal times Charlie, you know it’s a rule your therapist has instructed you to follow. You’ve been so ungrateful ever since they’ve arrived.”

Yes, go ahead and use my therapist’s words against me now of all times, Mum. It’s not like I’d finished my meal except the bloody trifle Clara mounted on my plate last minute that you kept pushing me to have when you Know how difficult it is for me to finish even regular meals fully on a good fucking day. He wanted to give his mum a piece of his mind, but his lungs just wouldn’t push the words out. Charlie stares at the ground, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill. He hates that his own mum made him feel worse when he was already feeling awful. He hates that this is how it always was, that this is how she’s always been.

“Charlie! I’m talking to you! Are you going to say something?” Charlie flinches at the tone of her raised voice, his ears ringing, looking up sharply as he glared at her with the limited amount of energy he had left. 

Just leave me alone , he wants to say.

Stop treating me like my mental illness is all I am all the time, I am sick and tired of it! he wants to shout.

He hated that he couldn’t get himself to speak. He was frustrated at everyone for acting the way they were at the early dinner he wasn’t even made aware was happening until ten minutes before the event, he was frustrated at his mum for never bothering to look at things from his perspective to try and actually understand what he was going through, he was frustrated with his stupid brain for not doing the one thing he was willing it to do right now.

But it’s like he couldn't get his throat to open up to speak the language he’d been speaking all his life. Gasping for air, willing for his mouth to shape up and force out the words his mind is thinking, but the more Charlie tries the more it feels like his mind is becoming static, the words tangling in on themselves vanishing, going out of reach.

Breathe , he thinks.

In, one. two. three. four. five.

Hold, one. two. three. four. five.

Release, one. two. three. four. five.

Repeat;

Closing his eyes Charlie clenches his fists in the fabric of his woollen burgundy sweater, willing his lungs to work as they should be.

“Well?” Jane says expectantly, “Are you going to come back to the table or are you going to continue giving me the silent treatment?” Jane tapped her foot on the carpeted floor impatiently, arms crossing over her chest.

The taps snap Charlie out of his state of trying to control his breathing, he looks at his mother in disbelief, she truly does not understand one single thing does she?

He storms past her, pulling on his beat-up Converse, rushing out the door as the light drizzle hits his face. Charlie pays no mind to his mother’s quieting shouts as he speed walks away as fast as his legs carry him, not bothering to care about her empty threats of 'or else' if he didn't return home immediately. He doesn't even know where he is going, all he knows is he needs to get away , away from this house, away from all the noise, away from his insensitive and ignorant relatives and away from Jane Spring.

⋆

Before he knows it, he finds himself standing in front of the cream-coloured door of the Nelsons’ household, out of breath. It's like his feet had a mind of their own. He’s grateful for at least some part of his brain knowing what to do since he can’t separate even a single thought running through his brain right now, and neither can he seem to find his inner monologue. He’s angry, that much he has figured, but something else is wrong, and it feels familiar.

He hears his heart beating in his chest, the ringing in his ears deafening as he stares at the door.

Safe,

Home,

his brain supplies.

Yeah , he thinks, safe, home. 

Before he can knock, a sprightly Sarah Nelson opens the door, Nellie’s dog carrier in one hand and car keys in the other. She turns around, delightfully surprised to see Charlie Spring standing at her doorstep at 6:47 pm in the evening.

“Charlie, dear! I didn’t know you were coming round today!” She smiles that signature sunshine Sarah Nelson smile which must be contagious because Charlie feels his own lips twitch up into a half smile.

Neither did I. Charlie tries to give her a full smile, to greet her, explain why he rushed here, to say something, anything. He opens and closes his mouth, but the words feel stuck on his tongue like someone has cruelly super-glued them there as a prank.

Sarah must notice the tight smile and exhaustion on Charlie's features because within a second her face is softening, eyes morphing to display sympathy. “Oh darling, why don't you come in first,” she gently guides Charlie into the living room and sits him down on their teal couch. Charlie goes easily, not trusting his own feet to keep balance, suddenly feeling drained of all energy, like the events of the day are finally catching up to him.

Sarah rubs her thumb over the hand holding Charlie’s, offering him a soft smile. “I’ll go see what Nicky is up to, Nellie dear keep Charlie company while I get your brother,” with a small pat on Charlie's cheeks Sarah heads upstairs. 

Charlie sinks down on the seat, laying his hands flat on the fabric of the couch, feeling its texture. Velvet, soft, comfort, familiar, safe, okay.

He curls his socked toes on the woollen rug, rubbing softly, trying to bring himself back out of the haze in his brain.

While he waits for Sarah's return he tries to do the grounding exercise Geoff taught him.

Okay, five things that I can see.

One: the cactus with pink, blue and purple flowers Darcy gifted Nick on his birthday.

Two: Nellie's favourite toy, a chewed-up Mr. Penguin.

Three: The taped-up tv remote.

Four: His socked feet, rainbow stripped near the ankles. 

Five: Sarah’s tablet screen lit open with the latest level of Candy Crush she must be fighting the timer through, it reads “level 393”.

He chuckles, God he loves the Nelsons so much. He buries his hands in the fur of an excited but tame Nellie wagging her tail. Usually, Nellie jumps up and on his lap when she sees him but now she patiently sits beside Charlie. She must somehow know that he is already overstimulated. 

Good girl Nellie , he already feels his heartbeat start to slow, his breaths evening out, the white noise in his brain beginning to clear.

He’s halfway through naming 4 things he can feel while giving Nellie tickles when Sarah returns with a tray of two glasses of orange juice, some biscuits and Henry trailing behind her. 

“Nick’s in the shower dearest, he’ll be out in a jiffy. I've got to hurry and take Nellie here to her vet appointment. She’s been scratching behind her ear for three days now, the poor thing. Better get it checked if old Nels has fleas or some other infection, heaven forbid!” Ah, the vet visit. Charlie knew about it, of course. Nick had been worried for Nellie. Just last night Nick was talking to him about needing to take Nellie to the vet. Guess Sarah managed to secure an appointment after all.

She sets down the tray in front of Charle. “Are you going to be okay for a few minutes?” Charlie nods and smiles gratefully at her, eyes crinkling at the sides. 

“All right dear, I’ll be home by nine. Call me if you boys need me to pick anything up,” she kisses the top of his head and rushes out the door with an excited Nellie running after her. Poor girl probably thinks they’re going for a walk.

Charlie sighs, rests his head on the back pillows and looks up, his vision watery, he always feels so taken aback and overwhelmed when Sarah dotes on him with so much genuine love and care. He closes his eyes, letting himself adjust into the comfort of the Nelson household. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Henry curled up in his small doggie bed, already dozing off.

The lights are dimmed, almost creating the perfect ambience of cosy and warm, a break from the blinding bright light in his own house. He listens to the faint sound of shower water running upstairs, the dishwasher whirring in the kitchen, and Sarah’s car leaving the driveway, as his mind attempts to clear the static filling every corner of his brain and tries to recollect the events that transpired for This to happen again.

⋆

He opens his eyes again when he hears the familiar sound of footsteps descending down the stairs. The footsteps in question pause at the door as Nick’s patterned-socked feet come into Charlie’s line of vision from where he was staring at the floor. He drags his eyes up to look at his boyfriend.

Nick. his heart does a silly little flip at the sight of his boyfriend.

Nick is smiling at him, wiping at his dark-blonde hair, which almost looks brown when wet, a red hoodie and his regular grey Adidas sweatpants on, all flush-cheeked and warm-looking, fresh from the shower. Charlie wants to tackle him into a bear hug, but he has no energy. He smiles tiredly at him. Nick tosses his towel on a nearby chair and instantly comes to sit beside Charlie, their sides pressed together, his arm around Charlie’s shoulder as he squeezes him to his side. 

“Hi,” Nick smiles at him, all soft and crinkly-eyed and so fucking fond Charlie wants to giggle. “Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart,” he places a kiss on Charlie’s cheek, “I came as fast as I could. Do you know what Mum said?!” Nick asks, incredulous; Charlie watches him curiously.

“She said, and I quote, ‘Nicholas Luke Nelson stop showering like a princess this instant, we don’t have enough hot water for that! Your boyfriend is waiting for you downstairs; go take care of Charlie while I can’t!’ Full-on government-named me and everything too, Char! I swear she loves you more than me but honestly, who wouldn’t? I don't blame her one bit” he huffs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles down at Charlie before animatedly continuing his rambling once again.

“But I do Not take Princess-length showers, I mean, first of all, princesses don't even take showers anyway, the royals think showering is for the lower class" he air quotes around the last two words with his fingers, "and secondly, I can get behind the whole hot-water running out thing, but I wasn't even that long! I was barely thirty minutes in there! The audacity of her to make such unsubstantial accusations!!” Nick pouts adorably at him making Charlie grin at his goofball of a boyfriend and his dramatics.

Normally, Charlie would have teased him, made Nick blush even more, which would cause him to act more silly than he already was being, but his energy has been depleted today entirely. Nick must’ve noticed the anomaly in his behaviour because the mirth from his honey eyes is gone, eyes softening. “What’s got you bothered, love?” he asks, running a hand down Charlie’s arm.

Charlie tries to talk again, taking a few breaths in. He wants to talk to Nick like he normally does, he wants to tell Nick what happened. He tries to speak, but the wall holding his words inside of him doesn’t crack, he still can’t seem to say a single word out loud. He can’t even form them in his head now he finds. It makes him want to rip out his hair and scream until all these words, everything he is feeling, spill out completely. He just wants to talk to his boyfriend for fuck’s sake, why does this have to be so difficult? He stutters, trying to say a syllable and fails, a frustrated sob breaking out of him as tears prick his eyes.

Nick shifts closer and looks at Charlie with that expression again, his eyes becoming so pained and sad, finally realising how much Charlie’s struggling to get words out of his mouth. The intensity of his stare, which is at other times comforting, feels much too overwhelming for Charlie now. He feels that uncomfortable buzzing sensation all over his whole body again and he just needs it to stop immediately . It’s like all his cells are in the wrong places, vibrating at the wrong frequency and his skin feels just wrong over his bones. He flinches, trying to rid of the antsy feeling his own body is inflicting on him, looking away from Nick.

He knows Nick means well and normally he loves looking at his eyes, but his brain cannot take any more stimulations that overwhelm his senses right now since there already is so much internal stimuli flowing through him. He feels like his entire body is in fight or flight mode and he can somehow suddenly feel the blood flowing in all of his vessels down to every capillary. Nick notices the involuntary shivers wracking through the smaller boy and must think Charlie needs physical distance so he starts retreating his hands from around Charlie. But that’s the last thing Charlie wants. Charlie hastily nods “No” at him.

Usually, when this happens, he needs to be alone for several hours before he can look at or talk to anyone, needing his senses to return to feeling neutral and bearable again. He doesn’t understand why his mind seems to want Nick close this time, especially given that this is the first time Nick’s seen him this way. He cannot even seem to be able to isolate thoughts or form vocal words right now, the static in his brain not having gone away.

But having Nick close must be doing something to quench his anxiety because he finds himself gripping onto the sleeve of Nick’s hoodie, pecking him on the lips, once, then twice for good measure, keeping him there. Perhaps, the weight of Nick beside him, around him. is comforting, grounding in a way; enough to clear the white noise threatening to succumb him. Nick understands and relaxes, holding him again. Charlie still cannot meet his eyes, he must be more emotionally distressed than he realised. 

He snuggles further into Nick, placing one hand on Nick’s soft belly, the other around his waist, engulfing him in a side hug, pressing his cheek close to where Nick’s heart is on his chest as he listens to the rhythmic thumping of valves opening and closing, forming Nick’s heartbeat, keeping him here, real and safe and warm .

He can feel Nick watching him, he’s worried, Charlie can tell, but he doesn’t query him. Nick never pushes when he knows something is bothering Charlie, that’s one of the things he loves the most about Nick. He feels Nick press his cheek on top of his curls, holding him tighter against him and whisper “I’m right here Charlie, I’m right here.” Charlie closes his eyes and breathes, feeling a calm settle over his bones for the first time all day. 

----------♡----------

“Recharge,” Charlie manages, his voice thick with exhaustion. 

His voice is so small, the croaked out two-syllable sound would have gone unheard if it was someone else but Nick Nelson is attuned to every single thing about Charlie Spring, especially when his boyfriend is feeling poorly. 

Recharge . It all clicks into place for Nick. Charlie needs to recharge. He should have known from the tired smile his boyfriend gave instead of a tackle-hug when he saw him for the first time today. The curly-haired boy looked extremely exhausted to the point where he was finding it hard to speak. Nick’s seen Charlie on ‘bad-bad brain days’ as they like to call it, but he’s never seen Charlie so distressed that he's unable to talk, it worries Nick. 

Nick understands now why his mum rushed him out of the shower as fast as she did, aside from preventing Nick from using up all the hot water in the house again and the fact that if Charlie hadn’t come over he’d have to close the door, it was mostly because his mum must've guessed something was wrong and went to fetch Nick- she knew Nick was the only one Charlie could bring himself to open up and talk to when something was upsetting him. But he couldn’t seem to be doing that, in fact, he looked like he was in pain from trying to speak. Nick’s heart felt like it was going to break.

He replies quickly, a string of suggestions that could make Charlie feel better. “You need to recharge, love? Sure Char, we can do that,” he tightens his arm around Charlie, holding him closer, “We can stay here as long as you need sweetheart, I can be quiet, or … or if you want me to put something on the telly so that it’s not quiet I can do that too, whatever you need, whatever-”

He halts his rambling as Charlie touches his unoccupied hands, intertwining it with his and bringing it to his lips, his warm breath leaving goosebumps on his skin. Charlie deposits a featherlight kiss there, looking up at him from where his head is pillowed on Nick’s chest, a small smile and a grateful look in his eyes. Nick sucks in a breath, he feels the butterflies in his belly. Charlie’s properly looking at him directly in the eyes for the first time all evening.

Charlie’s eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and Nick can feel his heart aching at the sight of his boyfriend in so much pain. It's almost like they are metaphysically connected, like he can feel the pain Charlie still feels, the pain he carries behind his forced smiles that don't quite reach his eyes. Charlie’s putting on a brave face for Nick, he can tell, but as much as he wants to prod Charlie and ask him what’s wrong he understands that his boyfriend needs to rest for a bit now. Nick alternates between rubbing his hands up and down Charlie’s arms and shoulder and tangling it in his hair, moving his fingers through them in a way that he hopes is relaxing.

He kisses Charlie’s mop of curls and forehead a few times hoping he’s providing the amount of comfort that Charlie needs, hoping it’s enough, because even though he’d do anything and everything for this boy in his arms, his entire world, the love of his life, Nick can’t do anything right now to make Charlie feel better until Charlie tells him what’s wrong and what’s bothering him and what he needs. He holds him and lets him know he’s not going anywhere because that’s all he can do until Charlie talks to him. That’s all he can do. 

⋆

Charlie starts shifting uncomfortably after about fifteen minutes, lifting his head and pressing the heel of his palm to his eyes as he furrows his eyebrows. Maybe a proper cuddle is what they need, Nick thinks.

Nick watches him, running his hands comfortingly down Charlie’s back and resting them on his waist, giving a gentle squeeze there.

“D’you want to lie down sweetheart?” he pressed a kiss to his temple, “would that be more comfortable?”

Charlie opens his mouth to say something, Nick waits patiently. Charlie tries to speak, but only a shaky breath falls from his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs, opening them again to nod yes at Nick. 

That aching feeling of something being wrong is back in Nick’s gut, he feels the lump forming in his throat, he tries to ignore it, and swallows it down to smile sweetly at Charlie. 

“Here? Or we could go up to my room?” Nick suggests. 

Charlie detangles himself from his embrace and pushes up on his feet. He stretches, his arms up in the air, his burgundy sweater riding up to reveal his, no, Nick’s purple Vans T-shirt under it. So that’s why Nick couldn’t find it anywhere, he blushes and chuckles to himself quietly.

If there’s one thing that’s never gonna change it’s his boyfriend’s regular theft and claim on his clothes, not that he was complaining. He may be running dangerously short on his hoodie supply but Nick didn’t have the heart to deprive his boyfriend from the comfort his clothes brought him, it warmed his heart really, made him feel a swoop in his belly that he couldn’t name yet every time he saw Charlie in his clothes.

Sitting down, Charlie reaches for the orange juice on the side table which Nick failed to even register had been there as he did most things when Charlie was in his close vicinity, his full attention only on his boyfriend and his boyfriend only.

Charlie takes a sip from the glass, the condensation of the water droplets that collected on the cool surface now running down his slender fingers. Nick watches as Charlie gulps down the last of his citrusy drink and wipes his lips at the back of his sleeve. Charlie must’ve been really parched, Nick realises, as even though Charlie was doing better with his anorexia now, it would take him a while to finish a full glass of orange juice. Nick’s so proud of him he beams at Charlie, but the worried creases on his forehead don’t leave, he just still can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right. 

“Here,” Charlie says, offering the other glass of orange juice to Nick. He takes it, confused if Charlie means lay down here or just him handing the juice to him, but he’s willing to go along. He brings the glass to his lips, his taste buds welcoming the familiar acidic beverage. With six big swigs, Nick finishes his drink. He places his glass down on the table, looking at Charlie curiously.  

To his surprise, Charlie brings up a hand to caress his cheek and like second nature, Nick melts into his boyfriend’s tender touch. He just stares at him for a while with a soft smile, rubbing circles with his thumb. Nick loves him so much that he can barely contain it. He leans his face towards Charlie’s hand, nosing his palm before planting a kiss there which makes Charlie giggle. Hearing Charlie’s melodic laugh and seeing the genuine happiness on his face makes Nick feel like he can breathe again, he can’t help but grin at his boyfriend all saccharine sweet.

Charlie leans forward, closing his eyes, he places a soft kiss on his cheek and then another, “Lay down here?” he whispers the question. Nick notices the upgrade from one-word responses turning to three, he’s so proud he could sob. He nods quickly, kissing Charlie’s palm once more.

“How do you want me, love?” 

Charlie gets up again, retrieving two pillows from the armchair in the corner of the room and grabbing the TV remote on his way back to Nick. He turns on the TV, switching channels until he finds the one that's showing Our Planet - another habit Nick has noticed Charlie recently pick up. He loves watching the animals, learning more about them and the earth they live in, he says. Charlie says it's relaxing, and that it makes him feel all existential but weirdly also grounded; Nick agrees. He turns down the volume, places the remote down and walks over to Nick, pillows in hand with purpose. He places the pillows on the edge of the couch, patting and fluffing them up until he’s satisfied. Nick’s eyes follow him like a puppy’s.

Once Charlie is content with the pillows, he stands in front of Nick expectantly, rocking on his heels a little. Confused, Nick just stares up sheepishly at his boyfriend, a dopey grin on his face. Charlie laughs, that beautiful harmonious cadence of sound waves again, that this time reflects amusement, he gestures his head towards the pillows. Finally catching on, Nick’s confusion morphs into understanding as he quickly moves up on the couch and lies down, opening his arms for Charlie to climb into.

Charlie all but lunges himself into Nick’s open arms, laying fully on top of him, not a single breath of space between them. Nick’s arms immediately encircle his waist, one hand slipping under Charlie's sweater and in between his T-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. His arms were made to hold Charlie, he thinks, not for the first time, and doesn't chastise himself for being so utterly smitten with his boyfriend, not that he did ever; Charlie really is just that cool and amazing and lovely and -

Charlie brings up his hands to rest on Nick’s chest, presses them flat there and then curls them into sweater-paw fists like a kitten kneading dough.

Nick's thoughts stunned into silence, he can’t help but smile at how adorable and cat-like his boyfriend looks at the moment, his stomach fluttering just staring at his boyfriend. Charlie looks so peaceful like this, a small smile on his face as he plays with the strings of Nick’s hoodie, curling them around his finger and then releasing them to crunch them again. Charlie would be a cat in another universe, Nick supposes. 

He gazes at Charlie, sometimes he feels like he doesn’t know what to do or how to show the amount of affection he holds for his boyfriend. He feels so encompassed with the love he feels for Charlie that he just gets a strange but very strong urge to always be near him, take care of him and make sure he’s happy. He doesn’t understand it completely, but he guesses it has to do with their love, them belonging together, being soulmates and being connected in a way that he feels like they are one, that ever-present pull to the love of his life all the time.

This was one of those times.

Nick didn't want to fret but he has such an urge to make things okay for Charlie, the only problem is he doesn’t know how to. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he cards his hand through Charlie’s soft curls; they’ve grown so long in the past couple of months, Nick doesn’t want Charlie to cut them ever.

Charlie drops his head on Nick’s chest, his right cheek pressing close to Nick’s heart as he stares at him with twinkling eyes. As he scratches lightly into his hair, Charlie melts into him more, purring like a cat given pets and Nick swears his heart grows three sizes bigger at the sight of Charlie curled up and comfortable on his chest.

All he can do is keep his boyfriend here, and hold him. He doesn’t know what’s bothering Charlie. Charlie watches the whales on the screen, the marine blue ocean projected onto Charlie's greek-god-esque face, cerulean light flooding him like an angel being lit up by a blue halo. Charlie places a small kiss of appreciation when Nick pulls him closer and there’s that tug in his heart again and he can hold back no longer.

“Charlie?” He softly mutters, slowing down his leisured massage of Charlie’s hair. 

With a lazy smile on his face, Charlie lifts his head, resting his chin on top of his hands on Nick’s chest, humming in response.

“Char…” Nick rubs his hand on Charlie’s cold cheek, “What happened, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” he tries. 

Charlie looks at him like he’s contemplating something, he makes a sound that Nick fails to catch. Charlie almost looks embarrassed and Nick is a little perplexed but he lets his boyfriend take his time. 

Exhaling a defeated sigh, Charlie drops his head on Nick’s chest and softly groans. Nick returns his hand back into Charlie’s silky but tangled hair, trying to make the gears in his head turn. 

An idea strikes him suddenly like a light bulb lit from connecting the correct circuit that just might be the key to help understand Charlie right now.

“Charlie, love, listen, you don’t have to speak full sentences for me to understand you, yeah?” Charlie lifts his head at that, “How about …” Nick rubs the apple of Charlie’s rose-pink cheeks, “you tell me five sets of one or two words and I’ll try to piece together what happened? Do you want to try that?” he asks, a hopeful note to his tone.

Charlie chews on his bottom lip, playing with Nick’s hoodie strings once again and not meeting Nick’s eyes. Nick’s heart aches for him again, he runs his thumb over Charlie’s perfect lips, freeing them from between his teeth, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Charlie, it’s just a suggestion my love.” he smiles reassuringly.

“Okay,” Charlie says, exchanging in a breath.

“You sure?” Nick feels Charlie’s grip on his hoodie getting firmer.

Charlie nods, “I want to.”

“Okay,” Nick pushes the curls that had fallen in Charlie’s eyes away from his forehead, “whenever you’re ready Char.”

Charlie’s eyes flicker from the TV screen to the square of Nick’s chest, he plays with the hoodie strings as Nick continues to card his hands through his hair. Eventually, Charlie holds up his hand, five fingers outstretched for counting.

“Surprise dinner,” he puts down his pinkie finger. 

“Cousins,” Charlie puts down another.

Surprise Dinner and cousins. Nick thinks back to last night when he and Charlie talked on the phone, Charie hadn’t mentioned his family were visiting. It was supposed to be a relaxing day for Charlie having finished all his Mock exams. Charlie, Tori and Oliver were supposed to spend time with each other, play loads of Mario Kart, help Olly make his solar system school project for science class, and get pizza or whatever the younger Spring sibling craved at night. Charlie hated big family dinners, especially ones he didn’t know he should be anticipating. No wonder he had been so upset, Nick thinks. He nods understandingly at Charlie.

Charlie sighs exasperatedly, Nick worries he’s tired him out but before he can fuss over him Charlie speaks again.

“Mum,” he says.

Ah yes, Jane Spring; it was no secret that Jane wasn’t the best parent, far from it really. Nick always thought she was too strict, she didn’t even like him at first when he and Charlie started going out. She didn’t put in much effort to be conscious of how Charlie was feeling or what he was actually going through. Charlie confided in him in the past that most times she ignored everything that happened completely or just got angry at him; unfortunately, his boyfriend was at the receiving end of Jane’s bad temper quite a lot. 

“What did she do?” Nick asks quietly.

Charlie looks down, blinking like he's trying not to cry, Nick’s heart squeezes for his boyfriend. He feels Charlie clench and unclench his jaw from where he is still holding Charlie’s face. 

“I finished my dinner,” Nick waits for the but…

Charlie took a breath and then shook his head frantically from side to side. “Didn’t want the bloody trifle,” he sobbed out through clenched teeth. And if that doesn’t just shatter Nick’s heart to a million pieces, “Oh, Char...” he coos, holding Charlie closer, catching the stray tear falling from his eyes with his knuckles.

“Tori wasn’t home,” Charlie reveals. Nick furrows his eyebrows at that. That makes no sense, they were supposed to spend the whole day together, they were going to have a whole siblings' day today, and Charlie was so excited about it. And if Tori knew there was to be a family dinner, she would have never left Charlie alone, she'd never do that. 

“Where was she?”

“Michael’s qualifiers race, ” Charlie explains, “Took Olly too,” he puts down his palm flat on Nick’s chest again.

No wonder Charlie was feeling awful. With Oliver and Tori absent, Charlie must have found it more difficult to survive the family dinner. Olly never failed to put a smile on Charlie's face with his childish whimsies and Tori was always there for him, be it with her small smiles or familiarly comforting sarcastic remarks.

But something else was wrong, Charlie was doing better, he could handle himself and his older sister and younger brother not being present at a family dinner didn’t usually bother Charlie this much anymore. He understood that all of it must have made him anxious, but he still couldn’t figure out why Charlie was finding it so difficult to speak earlier, even to Nick.

Nick worried if it was something else, was it getting bad again? Did he fail to notice this time? 

No , he reasons. Charlie would have told him if it was, he promised.

Besides, Charlie was doing better, he was honest about what he was feeling, unafraid to name it if he was having a bad day, didn’t try to conceal it as much either, and most importantly, Charlie was learning to lean on people, let them be there for him, ask for help when he needed.

It must be something else why he found it hard to speak , Nick concludes, it probably is, and he’d let Charlie take his time to tell him what.

“Do you wanna talk more about what happened at dinner love?” he proposes, running his hands up and down Charlie’s back under his sweater.

Charlie shakes his head, “Maybe later,” he yawns and Nick knows in an instant Charlie’s remedy right now was sleep and sleep only. Even though a part of him wanted to keep Charlie awake to get to the root of the happenstance, his boyfriend looked depleted still, so he caves. Besides, he was tired from training Henry, the tiny little pug, all day anyway. A post-shower nap with an arm-full of boyfriend sounded just about perfect. 

He raises his head, planting a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, well, mostly into the nest of the raven curls there, “Let’s nap for a bit then, hmm?” he says. Talking would have to wait.

Nestling back into his chest, Charlie nods. He looks at the TV screen that’s flashing blue, something about jellyfishes and humpback whales, Nick can hear the faint sound of the presenter over the sound of their rhythmic heartbeat. He holds Charlie close to him, carding his hands through his hair once again, waiting for sleep to overcome them both as he closes his eyes, engulfed by the sweet coconut scent of his boyfriend as he gulps away the worry that still remains at the back of his mind.

----------♡♡----------

Nick doesn’t know how long they were asleep. He wakes to the sound of Henry’s tiny whines and the pressure of something draped on top of him.

Charlie , he realises, smiling to himself.

When he squints his eyes open, he finds ocean blue eyes already gazing at him, a tiny smile on his face, chin propped up on his hands over Nick’s chest. His hair is sticking up in various directions, curls looser than they were since Charlie arrived, courtesy of their deep slumber and one Nick Nelson who couldn’t keep his hands off of his boyfriend, especially his hair.

Charlie looks so lovely and sleep-snuggled Nick wonders for not the first time what he ever did to deserve such an amazing boyfriend. Charlie seems to be feeling better too, the circles under his eyes gone, more colour is back in his cheeks and he feels sleep-warmed from where Nick’s hand remained touching him throughout their nap-sesh on the small of his back under his sweater. Nick feels himself blush from Charlie’s undivided attention on him as Charlie continues to look at him with a fond smile, a dimple on his left cheek.

Charlie snickers mischievously, “Nicholas, your cheeks are so red, do you fancy me or something, darling?” voice dripping with affection.

Taken aback by not only how adorable Charlie’s sleep-mixed flirty voice is but also Charlie speaking full sentences for the first time today, Nick beams at him, Charlie was feeling well enough to tease him, he was okay. Nick is so proud of him he feels like he’s on the verge of tears from how relieved and happy he feels, he tries to school the emotions on his face and tries to answer in a normal tone, but fails miserably. 

“Well, you know I do, and wouldn’t you know I think you fancy me too,” Nick says lamely, his voice breaking and going up a few octaves. He remembers his hand still under Charlie’s sweater and sneakily takes the opportunity to playfully tickle at Charlie’s sides. 

“NO Nick! Stop it, I swear to god, Nick!” Charlie warns, giggling and squirming in his grasp, as much as Nick wants to coax out more giggles from his boyfriend he also just wants to kiss him even more. He brings both his hands up to cup Charlie’s face, his boyfriend’s laughter ceasing as he presses his lips softly to Charlie’s, electricity shooting down everywhere when their lips meet. 

“Hi,” Charlie whispers in between kisses.

“I missed you,“ Nick mumbles as their lips gently press together again. Charlie snorts, “I was right here you silly man,” he says and kisses him again, this time more deeply but languidly. Nick buries his hand into Charlie's hair, gripping lightly as he whimpers at the change of pace.

“But you were asleep!” he whines. Nick can feel the huff of Charlie’s laughter against his lips. 

"Are you feeling better ?" Nick asks as they change direction, trading slow, gentle and chaste kisses again. 

"I am," Charlie confirms as he pecks him in three quick successions and hides his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. Nick continues combing his fingers through Charlie’s soft curls, revelling at the feeling. 

Charlie nuzzles into Nick’s neck, placing soft kisses on the spot right below Nick’s ear which he knows makes Nick shiver. As if on cue Nick wraps his arms around Charlie’s waist and he shudders hiding his face in Charlie’s curls, a whisper of Charlie’s name muttered in his curls. Charlie feels his heartbeat speed up, a swooping sensation in his stomach at being able to see the visible reaction he has on his boyfriend. He continues peppering kisses up and down Nick’s neck, he’s missed his boyfriend dearly too. They’re ridiculously cheesy, he’s aware. Nick smells earthy, like the smell of grass and ground after the first rainfall, like vanilla ice cream, like home.

His heart clenches with affection for his boyfriend as he just stays there hugging him close. Charlie wants to say I love you so much, he wants to say, thank you for always being here with me, thank you for never judging me, for never making me feel like I’m anything less than deserving of your love, for always taking care of me and for letting me take care of you too, thank you for showing me what it actually means to be loved and to be in love. 

He doesn’t say all that though, all he can manage is a small “I love you” and a kiss under Nick’s ear again, hoping it’s enough to convey all that he feels for his boyfriend. He hears Nick’s intake of a shaky breath. Nick nudges Charlie to lift his face head from the dip of his shoulder to look at him properly, his hand stroking Charlie’s cheek lovingly. 

“I love you too, Charlie. So Much,” he says. He kisses Nick again, lips sliding together in practised pacing, but this time more passionately, pouring all the love and affection he has in his heart, in his entire being, for this sunshine boy under him into the kiss.

Their make-out session and love-sick trance of inadvertent staring contest is rudely interrupted by small limbs pawing at the side of the couch. They break apart huffing to catch their breath, chests lifting up and down in tandem as they smile at each other bashfully before synchronously looking down to see who the culprit is. 

Henry the pug, bright-eyed and well, very much awake now, stands on his hind legs, pawing the sofa with his adorably small limbs, letting out a string of whines and ‘Arf!’s.

“Arghh, Henry!” Nick groans in faux exasperation, a smile overtaking his face at the sight of his tiny dog. Charlie perks up seeing the small pug, he gets up to sit over Nick’s legs and picks up the puppy, cradling him in his arms. “Hi there mischief-maker, how’s my tiny boy today?” he coos, tickling the underside of the pale pug’s belly. Henry lols and wriggles in his arms before settling down and almost falls asleep on him again. 

Nick lets out a hearty laugh, “He's sleeping so much today, must be tired and hungry. It was his first training day,” he says to Charlie, smiling at his boyfriend as he sits up. He scratches behind the small pug’s ears, “We trained so much today didn’t we Henpen, aww who’s a good boy, you’re a good boy!” he baby-talks to Henry as Charlie hands the little puppy to Nick, grinning at how cute they both look.

“I guess we should get up, I need to pee,” Charlie deadpans, getting up and stretching. He feels Nick watching him as he does so and hears him chuckle, “And I need to feed Henry,” he says before standing up, Henry resting on his shoulder. Charlie’s eyes soften at the sight. He stands on his tippy-toes, planting a kiss on Nick’s cheek and giving Henry one last scratch behind the ears, heading towards the loo. 

“Don’t miss me too much Nelson!” he calls out as he rounds the stairwell, smirking to himself. 

“You know I will Spring!” he hears Nick laughing as he retreats to the kitchen to fetch Henry some food.

⋆

Later as he’s washing his hands, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. His hair looks more voluminous than he’d like, he doesn’t pat it down though, his eyes aren’t blood-shot from crying, they look a little hooded and drowsy but refreshed nonetheless and his cheeks look puffy, not sunken in, that’s always a good sign, he’s learnt that to be a good sign in the past few months.

He feels okay, recharged and energized, that agitating buzzing sensation he was feeling all over when he'd arrived at the Nelson's is gone entirely, the lump in his throat non-existent, the black hole fully mellowed out. He is not anxious anymore, he's okay and he is safe, Charlie tells himself.

He splashes some cold water on his face a few times trying to wake himself up, wiping the dampness away with a towel. Charlie thinks he should talk to Nick, explain why he was having trouble speaking and also about what happened at his house. Going non-verbal is nothing new to Charlie, but it hasn’t been long since Charlie has been cognizant of the concept. Charlie also thinks some tea would do good on his nerves.

He steels himself, taking a deep breath as he descends the stairs, beelining for the kitchen, looking for his boyfriend. He finds Nick and Henry in the dimly lit room, the little pug munching away at his food bowl excitedly as Nick stands near the counter close to the window, humming to himself pouring hot water from the steaming kettle into two mugs. 

He’s making tea, he’s literally the best. Charlie thinks. He waits for Nick to put away the hot kettle before marching up sneakily behind his boyfriend, the wooden floor creaking beneath his feet.

Nick has just dropped the teabags into the steaming mugs, when he feels Charlie sneaking up to him, pressing close and draping himself over Nick’s back, hugging him from behind, his cheek pressed on his shoulder. Nick drops the spoon he was holding to cover Charlie’s hands with his own and leans into him, pressing his cheek to the raven-haired boy. “Hi sweetheart,” he smiles.

Charlie sniffs, saying nothing and pressing closer, tightening his hold on Nick as he breathes him in. He just wants to hold Nick for a bit, talking can wait. Nick , Home, Safe, he thinks.

“Tea?” Charlie mutters after a while.

“Yeah,” Nick replies softly, “honey and two tea bags with a dash of ginger, right?” 

Charlie nods, kissing Nick’s clothed shoulder and nuzzling into him, hiding his face. Nick could cry with how much the small act of affection warms him to his core. He wants to scoop Charlie up in his arms and keep him there, safe and happy, clear the skies so that storm clouds never linger, he wants to bring him the moon and stars, to give him everything he wants. He supposes he can’t do that realistically, so he’s going to have to settle to just making a cup of tea for the love of his life, to keep his soul warm; keep him safe for the rest of their days.

Comfortable silence settles over them, nothing but the sound of metal clattering against china as Nick mixes in the honey and sugar in their tea and the distant noise of cars pulling into the driveway of residents coming home around the neighbourhood.

“It’s called going nonverbal,” the younger boy says, after a while, Nick blinks. He taps down his head into Charlie’s space to show that he is listening, that he can carry on if he wants to. He continues stirring the sugar and milk, the honey and ginger into their mugs as he waits.

“It happens to me when I’m overstimulated or too emotionally overwhelmed. I think sometimes,” he breathes, “sometimes it happens, even when I’m not overstimulated…like, when I'm very stressed or anxious, I guess,” Charlie squeezes closer. Nick places the spoon on the counter and brings up his arms to hold Charlie’s around his middle, rubbing his thumb over Charlie’s cold hands. 

Charlie exhales, “I shut down in a way… it’s like all my energy is used to keep the anxiety or bad feeling pushed down, there isn’t enough energy left in me to process or … or to speak. Like, the words are all there in my brain, most times, but they just won’t come out; and… the harder I try, the more difficult it becomes.”

“I don’t know if that makes any sense but yeah …” he adds, his voice growing smaller. Talking after a nonverbal episode is never easy for Charlie. But he wants to talk to Nick, he wants to share this part of himself with him because he knows Nick never judges him, he only wants to understand him better. 

“It does make sense, Charlie. I mean, I’ve never gone through a shutdown before so I don’t totally understand what it feels like to experience one, but when I was younger I used to have a lot of meltdowns that always drained the living energy out of me after they’d pass so I can kind of guess what you feel like…?” Nick offers, recalling all the times as as a kid, after his dad left, and as a younger teen, when he first joined Truham, the bi-monthly awful state of rocking back and forth, uncontrollable crying and not being able to understand what and why he was feeling such strong emotions, he used to go through.

They always left him feeling like several trucks consecutively ran over him and like he needed to sleep for at least twenty years like Rip Van Winkle to even begin to recover. Back then, he didn’t know they were called ‘meltdowns’ until his doctor told his mum what they were. He didn’t try to hide them after that, his mum would always hold him afterwards, through every single one that came next. Thankfully they were getting less and less frequent as he grew up and Nick now could somewhat sense when one was due and prepare accordingly.

Nick makes a mental note to research shutdowns and about going nonverbal later.

Something clicks in Charlie's brain. So that’s why Sarah handled him not being able to speak so effortlessly well. He swears the Nelsons are the best people in the world. Charlie hugs Nick tighter. “You told me about this one time, I remember. it was before we started going out, wasn’t it?” he says looking at Nick over his shoulder. Nick gives him a smile, “Yeah, it was,” he gestures for Charlie to continue, so he does.

“Going nonverbal, this started ever since the bullying and… you know, everything after that," Ben remains unsaid, heavy in the air, but Charlie is pretty sure Nick knows what he means. "but I didn’t know what was happening to me until I went to the hospital. It’s only happened twice after me knowing what they are so it’s still kind of … new.” Charlie moves his hand on Nick’s chest feeling the soft fabric of his jumper.

“When shutdowns happen, I don’t like to be near anyone... or anything that causes me distress. Sometimes because… because I can't get myself to talk, people repeatedly ask me questions when I’m nonverbal. It doesn’t really help, it just makes it worse for me… It's frustrating, so I just stay away from everyone until it passes. But…” he pauses his hand motion, “my mind, it wants you near, it seems,” Charlie smiles, placing two more pecks on Nick’s shoulder.

“It’s like you’re my emotional support stuffed toy,” he chuckles. Nick grins, turning around in his embrace, pressing his back to the counter, looking into Charlie’s dark blue eyes that glint, familiar mirth and mischief have returned in his previously tired eyes, he notes. Nick loves him so much he could explode.

“Thank you for being my emotional support stuffed toy Nicholas,” Charlie giggles, looping his arms around Nick’s neck. God, Nick loves that sound so much. He wants to listen to the cadence of Charlie’s adorable little laughs forever, be the reason to pull more beautiful happy giggles from his boyfriend. He pulls Charlie close, circling his arms around his lower back, bringing them flush chest to chest, not an inch of space between them. 

“What and replace Kitty? How blasphemous, Charles!” he lets out a faux scandalised gasp.

Charlie scoffs affectionately, “Someone’s been reading the thesaurus, huh,” he teases, making Nick squeeze him closer.

“How dare you?! I cannot believe my great knowledge of words is being questioned in my own house!” Nick tickles Charlie's sides, making him squirm in his grasp and squeak out a string of giggles that are just music to the taller boy’s ears.

“I think you mean ‘Vocabulary’, my love,” he wheezes out bringing his hands down to hold Nick’s arm to get him to stop tickling him.

Nick stops his attack on Charlie and pulls him closer again, their laughter dying down. He looks at Charlie, he looks so beautiful like this in his arms. His hair is extra fluffy from their nap and sticking up in directions Charlie usually tames down, his dark blue eyes look almost crystalline, crinkling at the corners as he looks at Nick with so much love and adoration. Nick roves his eyes over all of Charlie’s soft and sharp features, the high cheekbones, the faint blush that one would be quick to miss on his olive skin but Nick’s memorised all the shades of red that paint his boyfriend’s cheeks by now, his full lips, his big dark eyebrows, his perfectly symmetrical face, dimples , his smile lines, the spot under Charlie’s perfect jawline at the junction of his neck he knows is so soft , Charlie loves being kissed there. In the dim light of the kitchen, the streetlights streaming in through the window create a halo behind Charlie making him look like an angel, Nick reasons he is.

He closes his eyes and presses his lips to Charlie’s forehead. “Happy to be your emotional support stuffed toy anytime, sweetheart,” Nick murmurs against his skin, leaning back but not going too far away. 

Charlie moves one hand from Nick’s shoulder, up his neck and to his face, cupping Nick’s cheek with the palm of his hand, he’s so soft to hold, Charlie thinks. Nick leans into the touch, melting like butter in his hands, closing his eyes. Charlie’s heart swells, no matter how shit his life is at times, he’s the luckiest person in the entire universe to be loved by Nick and be able to love him. His beautiful and soft-hearted golden retriever of a boyfriend. He kisses him on the lips, soft and slow, trying to pour his gratitude and adoration for his boyfriend that he can’t trust his words to begin to convey.

After they break apart, Nick taps his forehead to Charlie’s, catching their breaths together in the quiet kitchen, the world falling silent around them. Crickets chirp and badgers kecker in the distance of the night. It’s just Nick and Charlie here in this moment, just breathing, just existing, while the universe unfolds.

Nick opens his eyes to find Charlie’s closed, he looks so at peace. Nick loves him an astronomical amount. He takes in a nervous breath; he’s been inkling to ask Charlie something, unsure if he should. No amount of research is ever gonna tell him exactly how Charlie feels and what he could do specifically for him to make him feel better, so he decides he is going to query.

He nudges Charlie's nose with his own, “Char…” he starts, “Can I ask you something?” That makes Charlie open his eyes, he smiles at Nick, “ ’course you can.”

“Is it scary?” Nick's voice is barely above a whisper, Charlie furrows his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side, not quite following.

Nick licks his lips and adds on, “I mean, when you go nonverbal, is it scary? Not being able to like…talk?”

Charlie sighs, dropping his hands to Nick’s shoulder, massaging the taut muscles there, “It can be scary,” he nods, ”It’s a bit jarring honestly, I suppose. Like… your brain telling your body to work, but it just… doesn’t? And there’s nothing you can do about it in the moment except wait for it to be over till you’re not overwhelmed anymore. It’s like losing control in the worst way possible.” he takes a breather.

“I usually don’t remember what they feel like after they pass but when they’re fresh in my memory, like right now, I can.” Charlie steadies himself rubbing at Nick’s arm and looking down at the white hoodie strings of Nick’s jumper.

“All my shutdowns don’t follow the exact pattern though. So it’s like, not the same every time. Sometimes, when It’s really bad, it can be painful, right here on my chest,” he guides Nick’s hand to the middle left of his chest, where he’s always felt the blackhole forming. He covers Nick’s hand with his.

Nick gives him a pained smile, lopsided and sad. He lays his palm flat there, his hands large on Charlie’s chest. He feels the soft wool of Charlie’s sweater, feels the heat of his sleep-warmed skin through the cloth barrier and from Charlie’s palm covering the back of his hand. He softly presses there. If he had magic, he’d be a healer; he’d give Charlie as much magic as he would need to feel better, Nick thinks.

“It kind of feels like I’m experiencing sleep paralysis, only I’m awake and aware of what’s going on around me and can do everything but make my vocal chord push out sounds. It feels like the words have been sucked right out of me.” Nick tightens his arm around Charlie’s waist, letting him resume.

“Sometimes the shutdown combined with the anxiety gets so bad that my thoughts just stop working, like… it just becomes static and white noise, like a TV that can't process anything it receives from a satellite. I can’t tell apart a single sentence going through my head and the words just vanish, making me more unable to talk and the words, they don’t come back to me until I’m less stressed. It’s frustrating for whoever’s trying to talk to me but it’s ten times more frustrating for me because in the moment I’m literally not able to think or say anything at all.

“I feel embarrassed too, afterwards.” he grimaces, “It’s quite unsettling…but I suppose it’s a coping mechanism my brain does, to protect me from emotional pain or some bullshit, I don't fully understand it if I’m being honest.” he finishes, finally looking up at Nick, exhausted from talking and also from thinking about all the instances this happened.

Nick doesn't know how to say everything he feels for Charlie. I'm so proud of you, he wants to say, but he's unsure if those five words could even begin to surmount how much reverence and love he holds for Charlie. So instead, he does what he does best. Nick hugs him tightly, burying his face into the crook of Charlie’s neck, breathing him in. He smells like him, like the chocolate-scented candle in his room, like his floral and grassy body wash, like the coconut oil curl cream he uses to pat down his ringlets, like the most intoxicating scent he’s ever smelt, like Charlie , like love and comfort, like home . Charlie’s hands instantly circle round his shoulders, he can feel Charlie’s smile. Nick never wants to let him go.

“Is there anything I can do…to help?” he mumbles, “When you go nonverbal again?” He kisses that spot on Charlie’s neck once, twice, thrice.

Charlie sighs contentedly, bringing his hand to run through Nick’s soft, dark-blonde hair, scratching lightly and revelling at the way his boyfriend nuzzles further into him when he does so. He’s always been bad at saying what he needs, he used to feel embarrassed ever mentioning them, feeling like he doesn’t deserve it. But after everything they’ve been through, after everything he’s overcome, after his recovery, after the way Nick treats him every second of his life like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever come across, he feels like he does. He feels like he can tell Nick anything.

“Depends on what’s happening when I do, to be honest, love. But I think, generally, asking only yes/no questions when it's really bad is always good; I reckon I’d have enough energy to at least bloody nod when I can’t talk, you know, I usually can't manage more than a word or two.” Nick listens, “Getting me a piece of paper and pen, or anything to write with would also be nice, it’s just like you suggested when I first talked to my parents about my mental health, writing out things that are hard to say really does help.” he continues scratching at Nick’s scalp, giving the longer hairs a small tug as he does, running his other hand down Nick’s back and up again in a soothing motion.

“It’s happened in front of Tori twice. Once when we were younger and once recently. She always gets me into a room alone where no one will come bother me, dimming the lights so that I can calm down.” 

He moves his hands to lift Nick’s face from the crook of his neck squishing his cheeks as he looks up into warm-brown eyes, “also, I think, asking if I’m okay with physical contact is good, even though I’m always okay with yours, it’s better to check than not” he smiles at Nick. pecking his puckered lips. Nick nods understandingly. 

Nick tucks away each point in the Charlie-labelled folders in  his brain, saving them for whenever he might need and he goes to deepen their kiss, fisting his hands in Charlie’s soft jumper, pulling him close. He’s just kissed the corner of Charlie’s mouth when Charlie adorably yawns, gripping Nick’s shoulder and rocking on his heels a little. They both start laughing at the silliness of their actions as Charlie’s arms come to hold Nick round his neck. He looks so cuddly Nick could die. Even after being in a relationship for over a year, he never gets used to the way Charlie makes him feel, the sparks he ignites.

Being with Charlie is like coming home, but being with Charlie is also like discovering little things in your home you’ve known for years that makes you love it even more. There’s always something more to learn, about Charlie, with Charlie. Nick thinks, even after he has mapped every inch of his skin, learnt every intricate coordinates of Charlie's mind, memorised everything there is to know about Charlie, knows how to read Charlie like an open book at a single glance of their eyes, he’ll still never get bored of being with him. Not now, not ever. He can’t wait to spend a lifetime with him. And if people think they’re weird for that, let them. They’re both weird, to be honest, weird and silly but disgustingly in love and that’s enough. 

“Exhausted?” Nick pokes one of Charlie’s dimples. “A little,” Charlie giggles at him, giving him a tired smile, his eyes heavy with sleep again. 

Nick reluctantly detangles himself from his boyfriend, stretching his arms above his head, looking at the clock on the wall. 7 minutes to 9 o’clock. They better get something to eat soon, neither he nor Charlie have eaten anything for a while.

“Tea’s gone cold,” Charlie observes, pawing at their forgotten mug full of tea, pouting at Nick. 

“I can heat them up, or we can make a new batch. What do you think, Char?” Nick poses, preparing to follow up his question with asking Charlie what he feels like eating for the night. Charlie is doing much better with his anorexia, but it had been a difficult day for him, he doesn’t want to upset Charlie when he’s already in a good mood.

“Nah, let’s heat 'em up, no need to waste them.” he pauses, picking at the marble countertop, Nick watches him carefully, “and maybe we could order pizza for tonight?” he asks shyly.

Nick would burst with pride if he could. He beams at him, the pride he feels for Charlie visible on his face, as he intertwines their hands, “Oh you know I’m always up for Pizza!” he grins.

“Go order our pizzas and turn on Bake Off then you rugby lad! I’ll heat up our tea,” Charlie chuckles, shoving Nick towards the living room. Nick flashes him a thousand-watt smile again and presses one last sloppy kiss on his cheek before moving away which makes Charlie go red and swat at him even more to Nick’s absolute delight. 

Nick picks up a wandering Henry and scurries away to the living room to find his phone, Charlie stares at their retreating figure fondly, he loves his boyfriend so stupid much it’s a bit overwhelming at times but in the best way. He turns on the microwave and puts their tea inside, setting the timer to thirty seconds. He counts along with the beeping LED clock on the control panel, he gets to 17 backwards when his mind starts to wonder. The static is gone. He feels clear in the head. Like soil and dirt being cleared from the channel of a stream, his thoughts flow like clear iridescent water.

He should talk to Geoff about today he knows. He’s dreading having to face his mum when he returns to his house. He could test his luck and maybe get Nick to ask Sarah if he can stay over, he doubts his mum would agree but he still wants to try. After all, Tori and Oliver are staying at Michael’s.

He thinks back to when Tori strode into his room, at seven o’clock in the morning, bearing news that she was going to Michael’s speed skating competition in the afternoon and he and Oliver were also invited. He was ready and excited to go until his mum announced that she invited their cousins to dinner because they were touring Kent Uni. He tried to get out of it, his mum sending Tori and Oliver off with their dad, but insisting he stay behind because his cousins apparently would like to talk to him. Charlie knew what that meant and had wanted to dig himself a hole, or rather the ground swallow him up so he'd never have to face today. 

But despite everything, he thinks, today turned out okay, regardless of how awful it got in the middle.

He knows going nonverbal involuntarily was never going to be the best thing he’s ever experienced, they seem extra gruelling to go through now that he's aware that these are shutdowns, but they will get easier. He has people in his life who will be patient with him, like Tori, like Oliver, like his dad sometimes, like his friends, like Nick . The ones who matter, who truly love and care for him will always stick around no matter what, he knows. And he’s grateful for each and every one of them. 

( Later when their pizza has arrived and they're snuggled up on the sofa again watching bakers running their mouths and hard at work and sipping their tea, he'll tell Nick about today in extensive detail. He'll talk to him about his mum, his rude cousins, tell him how much he actually wanted to go to Michael’s race. Nick will reassure him that if Michael qualifies, they can all go to the next one. Charlie will tell him about the first time he went nonverbal, listen to Nick as he reflects on his meltdowns, and how Sarah always held him all those years. They’ll talk about Nellie’s rash and ruminate over how she hates going to the vet. He’ll listen as Nick tells him about training Henry today, how awfully difficult it is to train a pup that wants to nap all day, how Nick really can’t stay mad if he’s being honest. Then Nick will start rambling about the latest Marvel movie while Charlie will indulge him by relating it to his knowledge of Old Norse Mythology. And If Sarah comes home an hour late than she promised and finds her three favourite boys curled up and fast asleep with the telly still on, and she drapes a blanket over them smiling fondly, disappearing into the kitchen to feed Nellie, quietly calling Jane to let her know Charlie will be staying over, then it’s the universe working in Nick and Charlie’s favour through one sunshine Sarah Nelson. )

Strong arms wrap around him suddenly, startling him out of his reverie. He melts into his boyfriend’s soft embrace, rolling his head onto Nick’s shoulder. “Oh hi,” he greets, looking up at him from under his eyelashes shyly.

“Henry’s asleep again,” he informs, “and pizza’s on the way,” Nick mumbles, ducking down to kiss the dip of Charlie’s neck, swaying their intertwined bodies from side to side.

”Did you get me a pepperoni diavola?” Charlie asks, turning his head to kiss Nick on the cheek. 

“Yes sir!” Nick smirks at him lovingly.

“And what did you get yourself this time? Hawaiian again Nicholas?”Charlie snorts.

“Nope!” Nick says, popping the ‘P’, “I just got plain cheese this time, kinda sick of pineapples to be honest,” he scrunches his nose.

Charlie giggles, “About time, love. I don’t know how you and Tao actually like that stuff,” now it’s his turn to scrunch his nose.

Nick gapes at him like the curly-haired boy deceived him severely, “Charlie Francis Spring! I cannot believe you! disrespecting my flavour choices. Again! I will be telling Tao, he’s the one who convinced me to try it and I got hooked on it ever since! It's not even that bad! He’ll be on my side, you’ll see!” he exclaims, tickling at Charlie’s sides again.

Charlie shrieks with laughter at the suddenness of his attacks. He supposes he should be used to Nick’s antics by now. His surprise tackle-hugs, lifting him off of his feet when they hug and sometimes swinging him over his shoulder to give him a piggyback ride without any warning, tickling him and then showering him with dozens of kisses, but he still isn’t. He thinks he’s never not gonna be surprised by Nick’s open and overwhelming physical affection towards him. He’s so loud with how much he loves Charlie it makes him want to cry. 

“Okay! Okay, you big oaf! I take it back, now just stop tickling me!” Charlie giggles, squirming in his grasp, turning around and holding Nick’s face in both his hands. He stares at him, blue eyes meeting brown, two halves of one soul connecting, he loves Nick so much. He loves him more than anyone, actually.

Nick’s hands find their home on his waist, “You okay?” he asks.

I’m Okay. Today turned out okay, thinks Charlie. 

Charlie leans forward, a silent question in his eyes, Nick answers by meeting him halfway. They kiss breathless and lazily, Nick’s hands gripping Charlie’s jumper as Charlie rubs his thumb over the constellation of freckles on Nick’s face, warm under his cold hands. “I’m okay,” he replies against his lips when they separate. He kisses the corner of Nick’s mouth, then his cheek and feels Nick’s hands tightening on his jumper. 

“Bake Off turned on the telly?” he leans back, resting his hands on Nick’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Nick nods, “it’s queued up,” he rubs his hands up and down Charlie’s sides.

Charlie smiles, removing his hands from Nick’s shoulder and taking his hands in his, “Come on, our tea’s gonna get cold again if we stay in the kitchen for any longer. And I need Henry cuddles.” 

Nick smiles at their joined hands, moving them so that they are intertwined. He picks up his mug and hands Charlie his, “Let’s go have our tea then, shall we?” he smiles lopsidedly at him.

Charlie beams at him, eyes twinkling in the dim light of the kitchen, “Yeah, let’s go have some tea.” 

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