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On the rugby team, Charlie typically took the position of bench warmer.
And don’t get him wrong, he certainly didn’t mind. He liked sitting on the bench. Actually playing during the matches still scared him, he hated running, and whenever he did end up getting the ball, usually only because Nick took pity on him and wanted to include him, he’d panic too much to actually do anything with it and threw it straight back. Not to mention the players on the opposing teams that picked on him because of his size, barreling into him and sending him flying seemingly at any given opportunity, which did nothing but leaves Charlie with bruises and sends Nick into a tailspin, because it wasn’t like he was ever doing anything properly anyway.
It was easier, and safer, if he just sat on the bench.
He also liked sitting on the bench because that way he could watch Nick play without having to worry about everything else on the pitch, could watch him uninterrupted. Charlie loved watching Nick play rugby. He was always so happy when he was doing what he loved, and Charlie revealed in the looks Nick threw his way when he did something he wanted Charlie to see, when he scored a try or made a successful tackle, his sunshine smile that screamed “Look what I just did!”, lighting up his entire face. Charlie couldn’t see that as well when he was on the pitch, but he had the perfect view from where he sat.
It was another game against whom they at Truham called their rivals, another boys school in the next town over. These games were always particularly rough, the pent-up aggression the two schools had for each other bubbling to the surface each time they met causing harsher tackles, more penalty kicks, and higher risks of injury.
These games made Charlie particularly nervous. The one time he did play against this team, only because he was subbed in when one of their team got a head knock and wasn’t allowed back on, he was knocked around like a pinball, thrown to the ground more times than he could think, and had since sworn off ever playing them again unless it was a true emergency.
Nick also wasn’t the biggest fan of playing against this particular team. It always got too violent for his liking, and he somehow always found himself becoming aggressive as well, which wasn’t his style of playing and something he didn’t like doing. He liked the aggression that came with rugby, but he liked it when it was somewhat friendly goodhearted aggression. Not the kind of aggressiveness this team brought out. This type was malicious. Actual aggression. It wasn’t as fun when it was like that.
(And after that game that Charlie had played, after watching him get thrown around like that, the aggression he felt only grew stronger. No one hurts his Charlie like that).
The second half was just getting started, and Truham was up by ten points. The halftime break had gone far too quickly for Nick and Charlie’s liking, a mud-covered Nick holding Charlie as close to him as possible for the fifteen minutes as Mrs. Singh gave them feedback and fed them new plays to try and repress some of his anger.
The other team was playing dirty, and everyone who knew the game could tell. And even if Truham were winning, Nick wasn’t having any of it. When he brought it up with Mrs. Singh he was quickly shut down, none of them wanting to cause any unnecessary trouble, which only made him angrier, so the second they had finished talking, Nick grabbed Charlie in a hug. Charlie always managed to calm him down, no matter how angry he happened to be.
Charlie let Nick hold him, carding his hands through his hair whenever his head got close enough. He knew Nick was stressed, had known even before Nick had said anything. The smiles Nick gave him had become through and far between as the game progressed, and when they did come they weren’t as bright as they usually were, not quite reaching his eyes the way they normally did, so Charlie tried to comfort him the best he could, knowing that if Nick went back on worked up it wouldn’t end well.
But all too soon the siren was ringing to signal the start of the second half, and Charlie and Nick were forced to separate once more.
Charlie bit his nails as Nick resumed his starting position, waiting for the ball to be kicked. The looks on the faces of the other team were brutal, and Charlie had a sinking feeling in his stomach, convinced something was going to go wrong. Telling himself he was being paranoid, he clapped and cheered when the ball soared through the posts, and sat down as the game continued, his eyes fixed on Nick as he ran up and down.
Five minutes later, however, it all went downhill.
Nick had the ball and was high tailing it down the pitch, a group of the opposing team following after him in an attempt to regain control. Charlie watched as Nick sped up, pumping his legs harder and faster to try to outrun them. Nick was fast, but against six other people, he didn’t have the greatest chances.
Nick spotted another of their teammates slightly behind him out of the corner of his eye, who, unlike him, wasn’t totally surrounded by the other team and glanced backward, nodding at him as he prepared to throw the ball back. As he turned his head, however, another player from the other team came sprinting towards him from the front, colliding roughly with his shoulder.
Nick screamed, pain running harshly up the left side of his body. His eyes shut as he slammed into the ground, and the pain only worsened. His bones felt like they were rattling, and he knew without a doubt that there was definitely something wrong with his shoulder. Trying to roll onto his back so he wasn’t literally eating dirt, he knocked his shoulder against the ground and let out another scream. The pain was unbearable. Definitely something wrong.
From somewhere in his mind he registered someone's whistle blowing and heard the sound of the ref’s voice yelling something at someone, but all he could think about was the pain in his shoulder. The tears in his eyes sprung forward and he sobbed, clutching at his arm desperately.
Charlie watched in horror as the scene unfolded, shooting up from his seat when he heard the sound of Nick’s scream, his stomach dropping when he hit the floor and didn’t get up. His heart was pounding, panic taking control of his body, and before he knew what he was doing, he was running onto the pitch towards where Nick was on the ground.
It was easily the fastest Charlie had ever run, but his boy was hurt, and that’s all he could think about. He needed to get to him, and fast.
Not having the time or state of mind to even think about how hard he was finding it was to breathe, Charlie threw himself down next to his boyfriend. Conflicted by being too scared to touch him, in case he aggravated any possible injury he had further, and the desperate need to have his hands on him, Charlie grabbed his face lightly, titling him so he wasn’t face down in the mud and was instead facing him. His eyes were shut, tears leaking from his closed eyelids. “Nick, hey, it’s me. Can you open those big, beautiful brown eyes for me?” Charlie pleaded with him.
Nick took a shuddering breath and slowly opened his eyes, blinking up at Charlie through his tears. “Char?” He whimpered, reaching out with his good arm.
Charlie smiled and sighed in relief, glad he wasn’t unconscious, and swiped the pads of his thumb across Nick’s swollen cheek. “Hey darling, it’s me. I’m here. Tell me what hurts sweetheart. What hurts?”
Nick whimpered again. “My shoulder, Char. Hurts so bad,” He cried, the tears Charlie had just wiped away quickly being replaced with new ones.
Charlie snuck a quick glance to the arm in question, wincing when he saw the position it was sitting in. That certainly didn’t look good. “Okay, okay. You’re doing so well. Does anything else hurt?”
“My thigh and hip. And my head a little bit. My shoulder hurts so bad!” Nick sobbed pitifully.
“Shh, darling, shh,” Charlie hushed him, “It’s okay Nick, it’s okay now. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay. Just focus on me.” Nick simply cried some more in response.
Mrs. Singh joined them on the pitch and Charlie told her what Nick had told him, Nick’s pain becoming too intense for him to speak. His grip on Charlie’s hand was bone-crushing, but Charlie didn’t mind. He would do anything for him, wanted to do everything he could to stop his pain, and if that thing was Nick squeezing his fingers until they felt on the verge of breaking, then that's what he’d do.
“Okay,” Mrs. Singh clapped her hands together and stood from her position kneeling beside them, “We need to move you off the pitch. Can you walk?”
Nick nodded but whimpered once again. Charlie helped him into a sitting position and gently pulled him to his feet. He buckled for a few seconds, the pain in his hip more present now he was standing but regained balance. He hid his face as they walked slowly across the pitch, embarrassed beyond belief. Nick wasn’t one to get injured often, and he hated showing this type of weakness not only in front of his friends but the other team as well. He could see the smug looks on their faces, he wasn’t an idiot. This was their plan, they loved all this.
Nick was taken back to the club room as he waited for his mum to come down, the assistant coach having rung her to tell her what was happening, and to ice his shoulder. Charlie sat by his side the entire time, holding his hand and stroking his hair as they temporarily wrapped his arm.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Nick sobbed eventually, burying his face in his elbow.
Charlie gave him a sad smile. “Why are you embarrassed, sweetheart? People get injured in the game all the time,” He asked.
“The other team wanted me to get hurt, Char, I saw them laughing at me when we walked back. They wanted to turn me into a laughing stock so no one takes me seriously anymore,” He sniffled.
Drawing him into a careful hug, Charlie sighed, kissing his hairline. He knew he was only speaking like this now because he was in pain, but he knew Nick got insecure sometimes, and he hated the thought of Nick thinking this all the time, the pain just bringing it forward. “No Nick, don’t think like that. You’re an amazing player and the best captain our team could ask for. Those people are just horrible people who thrive on shooting us down. Remember what happened last time? They almost took out the whole team, and you were the one left on the pitch. You’re so much better than all of them combined, better than they will ever be. They’re all arse-hats.”
“Bold words from Mr. Spring,” Nick finally cracked a tiny smile, though brief, and nuzzled into Charlie’s neck. “I love you so much, Charlie.”
“I love you too Nick, so much.” Almost as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Sarah Nelson was running towards them, her face tight with worry, and after talking with the coach for a few minutes, they were off to accident and emergency. Nick insisted Charlie came with them, refusing to let go of his hand for even a second. Sarah didn’t question it.
Three hours, a couple of x-rays, and a whole lot of pain medication later, the doctors confirmed that not only had Nick dislocated his shoulder, but had also broken his collarbone at the same time, hence the shoulder pain, and had also bruised his pelvis and had a very mild concussion. Charlie gasped upon hearing what his injuries were, his heart pounding once again because, god, his boy was so banged up, but Nick just giggled, playing with the curls in Charlie’s hair. He was very drugged. Too drugged to care that much anymore.
Well, it was certainly an improvement from the sadness. Charlie didn’t like it when Nick was sad.
“Don’t worry, Charlie will look after me,” Nick smiled proudly as his boyfriend as the doctors rattled off all the pain medications he could take and how to care for his injuries going forward, giggling behind his hand. “Won’t you Char?”
Charlie blushed and stammered for a few moments, sending an awkward look to Sarah and the doctor. “Sure darling, I’ll look after you, if that’s what you want.”
Nick nodded frantically. “That is what I want! You’re the best boyfriend ever!”
Charlie blushed harder, cheeks blazing. “Thank you, Nick, you’re sweet.” That seemed to pacify Nick, as he sat quietly as the doctor gave the rest of her instructions, albeit still playing with Charlie’s hair. Sarah smiled fondly, rolling her eyes at her son's antics. They were dismissed another half hour later, after fitting Nick for his sling.
Even while high on pain medication, Nick knew the next few weeks were going to be tough. He knew he’d be in pain, he knew what he could do would be restricted, and he knew that not being able to play was going to be tough. But with Charlie by his side, it all seemed a little more tolerable.