Chapter Text
Prologue
Before there was Nick and Charlie, there was Nick and there was Charlie.
Everyone at Truham Grammar knew Nick Nelson, the rugby king. He was the affable Year 11 captain of the rugby team who was generous with smiles and kindness, friendly with all the years, and a genuinely happy young man. His tastes were simple. He loved Marvel movies, Formula 1 racing, and his dog, Nellie. He bantered with his mates and studied hard for his GSCEs, was popular with both staff and students, and maintained his friendships with the girls at Higgs. Between his infectious enthusiasm, his strawberry blond hair, and his boundless energy, he was often fondly (and aptly) compared to a golden retriever.
Everyone at Truham Grammar also knew Charlie Spring, the Year 10 who had been outed the year before and bullied horrendously until some Sixth Form students put an end to it. While he still encountered the occasional whispered comment or blatant stare, his school days had improved significantly. Besides being recognized as one of the smartest students in his year, he was generally respected by his teachers and peers, his being out adding an exotic element to their view of him. While he didn’t relish the extra attention being out forced on him, he was content to be left mostly alone to be with his friends Tao and Isaac and to engage in his secret relationship with Ben, a Year 11 boy he had been kissing for several months.
Each boy knew of the other on some level even though their lives rarely crossed.
Nick had heard about Charlie’s outing without knowing who Charlie was. He had been sympathetic to what happened but hadn’t stopped his mates from making crude jokes at Charlie’s expense. He felt slightly guilty about that, knowing he should have done better and that his mum would have expected him to, but it was too late now, he thought. All he could do was be friendly when he saw him in the hallway or when he would see Charlie and the Truham/Higgs joint orchestra concerts where Charlie played drums and Nick’s friends Tara and Darcy played their instruments, too.
Charlie knew of Nick, finding Nick so attractive his belly churned and his heart fluttered at the sight of him in the halls. The occasional smile and “hi” from the taller, muscular boy in the school hall was enough to set Charlie’s pulse running. And, of course, he had watched Nick play rugby on Sports Day and had silently fantasized about him, but as they didn’t have any classes together and didn’t share any friends, Nick remained an ideal Charlie never considered. Besides, he often asked himself, why would Nick Nelson want to be friends with me?
Their casual acquaintance, if one could even call it that, ended when Nick graduated. He, along with Tara and Darcy, started at Leeds in the fall, and Charlie focused on his A Levels for Year 13. Their interactions and knowledge of each other fading as each lived their lives independent of each other. Charlie never learned Nick had realized he was bisexual during his final year at Truham and had come out to his best friends, Tara and Darcy, or that Nick sometimes remembered a pair of fine blue eyes in his daydreams that he couldn’t place on a face. Nick never learned about Charlie’s eating disorder (although he had heard about Charlie being out sick for some time) or of his brief relationship with Ben which had left emotional scars on Charlie. By the time Charlie graduated, he had forgotten all about the tall, strapping rugby player and listened to his friend Tara’s advice to attend Leeds instead of Durham so he would have at least some friends there when he started and have a fresh start away from Truham.
Chapter 1 - Move In Day
To Charlie, leaving home and going to university was the culmination of his two-years long focus on his A Levels and a freedom from his mum’s criticism and the oppressive weight of his history at Truham and the mistake that was Ben Hope. He was happy to be far enough away from his parents to be able to do what he wanted when he wanted, but he knew he would miss them, especially his sister and brother who had stayed home because the little car was full of Charlie’s life’s possessions.
He would be far from home, from the triggers for so much of his trauma, his eating disorder, and his mental health. These aspects of him hadn’t disappeared over the years. He still struggled with the effects of Ben’s emotional abuse, of the doubts and fears about his own worth that flared when he least expected, and the constant but now manageable need to control his eating, especially when he felt no control over the rest of his life. He no longer hurt himself, but his physical scars and warped view of his body remained. Years of regular therapy had helped and continued to help him manage it all, but he knew it wouldn’t just go away miraculously. Some days were better than others, and on the bad days, he was glad to have friends to help him.
Attending Leeds, while home to several of his friends already, was a fresh start. A chance to get away from the lingering otherness he always felt at Truham Grammar. Tara had convinced him to join her and Darcy there instead of Durham with Issac, saying the larger school would allow him to focus on his academics and their smaller friend group would provide enough socialization since Charlie’s close circle of Tao and Elle were attending other schools on their own in London, and Charlie wasn’t ready for that big of a change. Charlie had conceded to their argument and applied without visiting campus until move in day, trusting their guidance.
As his dad pulled onto campus, Charlie took in the surroundings: the diverse architectural styles, the Parkinson Building and its famous tower, the range of people around him both thrilling him and causing his anxiety to spike. His breathing quickened, his pulse raced, and his leg was tapping rapidly against the seat. He gripped the armrest, and his dad looked over at him.
“We’re here, Charlie. You can do this. You can do hard things,” he said softly, placing his hand on Charlie’s knee and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Charlie groaned at his dad, rolling his eyes but smiling. While he didn’t always get along with his parents, he appreciated his dad trying to reassure him using the words Charlie’s therapists had suggested to his parents.
Count backwards. Ground your senses - what do you feel, see, smell, hear. Deep breath, hold it, let go.
“I’ll be fine,” Charlie replied, closing his eyes and focusing on calming himself as he had practiced. “Geoff and I have already talked about this transition and how to navigate it. It’s passing.”
“I know, mijo. I’m just worried. It’s what parents do,” he answered, placing a hand on his son’s knee and, noting Charlie’s raised eyebrows, said, “yes, even your mum. We worry. Especially about you.”
Charlie blushed under his dad’s words, not expecting them but glad to have them regardless. He felt his body slowing, releasing the tension that had built. “I’ll be fine, dad. I promise. Besides, Tara and Darcy are here.”
His dad nodded and drove slowly through campus, following signs for the various residences. When he pulled up to Devonshire Hall, he parked in the first available drop off spot. Outside the building, several upperclassmen wearing matching shirts were directing cars to parking and students towards check in tables. As Julio Spring put the car in park, a blond woman with a clipboard approached them. Charlie and his dad got out of the car.
“Hello! Welcome to Devonshire Hall! You can start unpacking your stuff here and James over there will tell you where to park,” she called, her voice perky and friendly. She turned to Charlie, big blue eyes set off by a wide smile. “Let’s just get you checked in? What’s your name?”
Charlie took a deep breath to center himself. He hated small talk, even as innocent as his name. “Erm, Charlie. Charlie Spring.”
The blond woman ran her finger down her list, clicking her tongue as smiled and identified him. “Excellent! Here you are! You’re in room 319, oooo, a studio! Lucky you!” She handed him a key and a card on a lanyard. “Okay, well, I’m Imogen, and I am our house assistant. The card will get you in the door to the building and the key is for your room. If you need anything, just ask me. Nick here is going to help get you moved in.”
“Um, that’s okay. I don’t think we’ll need-” Charlie muttered, putting the lanyard over his head and turning to help his dad unload boxes out of the car. He turned towards the backseat to grab his suitcase when he sensed someone behind him and heard a soft, friendly voice say, “Hi!”
Charlie whipped around to the voice. Something about it, its tone, its timbre, made his body shiver and butterflies flutter in his stomach. He looked down at the black and white vans (classic, Charlie thought) and ran his eyes up shyly, taking in thick, toned legs in a pair of jean shorts, a Leeds rugby t-shirt damp from sweat and clinging to a muscular torso, and finally to a smiling face with such a warm, open expression. He gasped. The tall man pushed his strawberry blond hair out of his face, tucking the longest strands behind his ear, a shy, half smile forming. Charlie stared at his face before smiling awkwardly and whispering, “Hi!”
“I’m Nick, obviously,” the taller man noted, laughing nervously as he scratched the back of his head. Charlie looked at him, captivated by the man’s pale freckles and warm brown eyes, making eye contact with each other until they both turned away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Imogen giggle and shake her head and Nick give her a look before he said, “Um, yeah, so I’m here to help you move in.”
Charlie blushed, unable to respond and working on something, anything to say back while also being distracted by the sun hitting Nick’s hair, making it glow. Am I imagining this halo? He wondered, staring again at Nick until the older boy blushed and coughed quickly. Charlie closed his eyes, his own cheeks growing pink as he willed himself not to stare. Nick tilted his head to the side, looking at Charlie, “Are you all right?”
“Erm, I don’t have much. We should be able to get it,” he stammered, finally coming to his senses and gesturing to the boxes he and his dad had already taken out of the car. He blushed slightly as he felt his stomach do cartwheels as he gazed at the muscular older student, his brown eyes boring into him, making him feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“No worries, mate. It’s why I’m here,” Nick explained, smiling with his whole face. Charlie turned away, flustered by this beautiful man in front of him so eager to help.
“It’s not a lot. I mean, you don’t need to worry about me-” Charlie started, feeling his body get heated. Why is it so hot today? It’s almost autumn.
“All our team is helping. It’s all right. I’m at your disposal. Use me as you will” Nick explained, chuckling. Charlie’s mouth opened, and his breath quickened. Nick’s eyes widened. “Wait, I mean-”
Imogen, who was finishing checking in another new student, burst out laughing and came up to Nick’s side, rubbing his arm (strong arms, Charlie noted) and patting his ample chest. She put her head on his shoulder, and he lowered his head to hers, blushing a bright red and hiding his face. Charlie looked at them acutely.
“Oh, Nicholas!” Imogen chuckled, ruffling his hair and raising her eyebrows in silent communication. She turned to Charlie’s dad and walked towards his car. “James will show you to parking, sir. Nick can help Charlie for now, and we can connect you back later.”
Julio helped Charlie and Nick finish unloading the car’s contents onto the curb before following Imogen’s direction to another student worker managing the parking garage. Nick and Charlie picked up their boxes and looked at each other.
“Sorry, I don’t know your name. I missed it when Imogen called me over. Shall we start over?” Nick asked before shifting the box to the ground. He held out his hand to Charlie, “I’m Nick Nelson.”
Charlie looked at Nick’s outstretched hand and then Nick’s face, the name registering, and blushed intensely. It was the Nick Nelson, the rugby king at Truham. And while his face had lost its baby weight, becoming more defined and fuller, Charlie realized he should have recognized him. Of course, he now remembered. Nick goes here with Tara and Darcy, two of his best friends. Charlie felt silly for forgetting.
Nick had always been an abstract presence during Charlie’s school days, an object of fantasy and intense pining. While he remembered an occasional “hi” from Nick during their time at the school, he hadn’t thought much about it because Nick was friendly to everyone. He surely wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant to his life as Charlie. But here he was, hand outstretched and as friendly as before and waiting for Charlie.
It’s okay, Charlie thought as he looked at the hand, almost afraid to touch it, as if touching it would communicate his growing attraction. A handshake is a common enough greeting. You can do this, Charlie. His big hands holding yours… And those arms… You always wanted him to hug you. You know he gives good hugs.
His pulse racing and skin prickling, Charlie took a deep breath to center himself and put the box he was holding down before saying,
“Hi, I’m Charlie Spring.” He reached gingerly towards Nick’s hand before Nick reached forward and gripped Charlie’s hand softly but securely in both his hands. Nick’s smile widened to a full grin, his eyes lighting up.
“Oh, my god, I thought you looked familiar! We went to Truham together. You probably don’t remember me. I mean, we never had class together or anything. I was a year ahead of you,” Nick replied quickly, the words tumbling out, his hands still holding Charlie’s.
Of course, I remember you. I could never forget you. Charlie started to laugh but covered it with a coughing fit, pulling his hands from Nick’s. Nick’s strong hands…
“Are you alright, Charlie?” Nick leaned closer, putting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, concern shading his voice.
Nick’s hand was warm and large, covering Charlie’s shoulder, and his thumb brushed Charlie’s neck, making Charlie’s pulse rush. Charlie looked at Nick’s hand, absorbed the sensation of his touch and the butterflies in his stomach growing stronger before he twitched and moved away, breaking contact. He’s touching me! What do I do? Why is he touching me? It feels so nice. Don’t let him know you like it, Charlie. You can control yourself, he thought through the doubts whispering in his mind.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine,” he coughed, looking down and blushing while brushing his curly bangs from his face. He nodded, looked up at Nick, and smiled self-consciously, “I remember you.”
Nick looked at Charlie with a half smile, hints of worry and confusion marking his brow.
“Cool. Are you okay, though? I’m sorry if I startled you. I should have asked before-” he began, looking at his hand which was still reaching towards Charlie.
“No, it’s alright. Really,” Charlie replied before turning and grabbing the box he had put down. You can do hard things, Charlie. “Shall we?”
Nick paused and watched Charlie cautiously before smiling and following suit. “Right, follow me, yeah?”
Anywhere, Charlie thought, breathing deeply to calm his racing heart.