Chapter Text

1: Meet

January

Mon

Ben:Library?

Charlie:Ok

Wed

Ben:Music room 2?

Charlie:Yep

Thrus

Ben:Library?

The Truham Grammar School for Boys library was what you would expect from a school as prestigious (pretentious) as it is, that is to say it was big. Its shelves towered above you  almost to look down and say “I’ve seen more than you, you could read every book on every one of us and I still would know more than you” and they would be correct. What do the shelves know you ask? Well they knew it was a frequent makeout spot for both Charlie Spring, and Benjamin Hope. It was one of Bens’ favourites in fact. It was not one of Charlies, this is because making out with Ben was not one of Charlies’ favourite things, it didn’t even make him blush. And let us be honest, if you are a male and you simply stepped on Charlie's toes by mistake, he would blush. The first bell ring goes and with that Charlie breaks away from young Mr.Hope.

“Charlie, that was only the first bell-” he whisper shouts, the mildly startled sound turning to anger.

“Yeah…I’ve gotta go…” he stutters. For the first time in this entire encounter he is flustered, and not in love or even his waning like of Ben ;but instead of his inability to come up with an excuse.

“Why?” He quietly drags out the syllable, as if asking a question that is rhetorical, though this one is not.

“Sorry.” He says, finally rushing out. As he exits into the not currently crowded hallway he pulls a paper out of their backpack. It reads:

Dear Charles Spring, 

From the beginning of January, all students at Truham will be placed in new ‘vertical class groups’ for registration at 9:30am and 2:05pm every day. Each vertical class will contain 5-6 students from each year group.

New class: Hamlet 5

Class room: B25

Please attend registration in your new vertical class group from the start of the new term in January.

Charlie continues walking his direction now affirmed by the paper. ‘Room B25’ he tries to think though the route is unfamiliar to him. As he walks and yawns the posters stare at him telling him to join the drama club while the hallway finally gets more crowded. He finds the room in a corner stand off with room B24. 

As Charlie opens the door he is greeted with a boom, “Well, if it isn’t Charlie Spring. Happy New Year!" 

Charlie looks up and sees the familiar face (adorned with beard and famous red hair) of Mr.Lange. "Hi, Mr.Lange." "Let's see, where did I put you on the seating plan? Ah yes you're over there, next to Nicholas Nelson. He's in year eleven, so only a year older than you." Charlie’s eyes turned and met Nicks for a split second before breaking away from the nerves. 

He walks up to his seat and words are blurted, almost nervously in his direction, “Hi.”

“Hi”

Everyday goes just like that. Except they build with different greetings each and every day. 

Day 2:All right? All right, 

Day 3:Morning. Morning. 

Day 4: Hey! Hey.

Nick knows what he’s doing, cheering himself up, giving himself an opening to talk to new potential friend, and Charlie knows that this is an opening to talk to new cute boy. But also an opportunity for disaster, is he going to make fun of him for being gay, would Nick do that? He seems too frien-

His thought is cut off, “Er…Charlie? You don’t happen to have any tissues do you? My pen… exploded.”

“Ah,no, sorry.” 

Again they are interrupted, this time by Mr.Lange, “oh dear Nick, you’d better go clean up in the bathroom. Charlie, can you go with Nick and open the doors for him?”  And like that they are off, both of them happy at this opportunity for numerous different reasons that they couldn’t identify even together, unless of course they had a bedroom, considerable amount of time, and Nick specifically had a few rose petals to spread across the bed. None of which they had, what they did have was an ink-stained Nick. 

“Sorry about this…” he stated as entering the bathroom, door held by Charlie.

He got a response that was meant to come out three parts nonchalant, and one part eager, though it came out the other way around, “It’s fine! Hopefully I’ll miss some of first period, I have double science.”

Nick, always eager for a conversation (and also very lucky he didn’t have a tail for the fact is that if he did it would be wagging right about now), “Ugh! Who d’you have?”

“Mr.Hutchins.” Comes out the voice that even shocks Charlie with how joyful it is. Not the one for conversation nor the one for Mr.Hutchins; but quite the one for Nick.

“Oh my god, I had him last year. He smells so bad of cat food!”

“He really does.” Charlie laughs, “So… how did your pen explode?”

“It’s a fountain pen,” Nick explained, “they do that sometimes.

“Aren’t fountain pens really hard to write with?” Charlie asks, coming off just sarcastic enough to hide the fact of the matter that he is impressed by Nick.

“Yeah, but it makes my handwriting look nice.” Nick washes his hands, “It’s not coming off!”

“Haha, you’re going to be blue forever!”

“I look like I’m wearing long blue gloves.” Nick mocks himself

“You can make that the new fashion,” Charlie continues the sarcasm seeing that it’s working and thinking to himself that if Nick really wanted too he could make just about anything a fashion.

“I’ll pretend it’s a tattoo!”

“I think that might be against school rules,” Charlies says, now thinking of Nick with a lot more tattoos and a lot less clothes… And finally, the bell rings.

“Oh”

“We’d better go,” Charlie mourns the moment

“But was that first or second bell?”  Nick inquires, hopeful still for just a bit longer..

“Dunno. I’ll check the time.” Yet when Charlie checks the time he is not disturbed by the time that it is but by the wall of text messages from Ben. Fucking Ben

Ben:Music Room 2?

Ben:Charlie where the fuck are you?

Ben:???i’m waiting

Ben:can’t even be bothered to text me? You’re so fucking useless.

Needless to say that Charlie is startled and now has stress to attempt to hide from Nick. He starts to walk out until-

“Charlie?”

“Er… yeah, first bell,” he replies now remembering the earlier question, but that’s not what Nick wanted the answer to:

“Friends?”

From then a few laughs and inside jokes  go on and develop until:

“So you and Nick Nelson are friends now?...Really?”

“Er… yeah?” Charlie half answers with the questioning tone, unable to tell whether the sweat starting to form is simply from the heat of sitting out on the school lawn or the stress Tao is putting on him. 

“But he’s one of the rugby lads. He’s friends with Harry Greene for god's sake,” Tao continues.

“So? Nick’s really nice,” Charlie makes the futile attempt to brush him off.

“Come on, he’s a fucking chav. He calls everyone “mate” and probably throws food at people on the bus.”

“...He doesn’t call me “Mate”, though,” Charlie tries to rebut; rather pointlessly.

A pause

“You have a crush on him.” Abruptly comes from Tao's mouth, a fact, a statement, certainly not a question.

“WHAT.” comes from Charlie's mouth, even more abruptly, “That’s not– I’m–I don’t just fall for any boy who’s nice to me! He’s probably straight anyway…ha-ha-ha.” This is an effective change of topic because to continue this would be pain and torture for anyone involved including witnesses, so the rest of lunch is finished pretty quickly and Charlie gets up to leave.

As he leaves the lawn he hears “Oh my god,Ben! Shut up!’ And sees him presumably flirting with a girl, who notably shouldn’t be there. A Boys school. This is what he thinks about as he stays in bed, the only thing illuminating his face his cell phone screen

Charlie:I don’t want to meet up anymore

Ben:???

Charlie:Sorry

Ben:Why??

Ben:I don’t understand

Ben: ffs we’re not gonna get caught

Ben: Charlie!! Don’t ignore me!!!!!

That final text gives Charlie enough motivation to do just that. He sets the phone down, screen down to prevent any notifications beckoning him back into the text thread, he pulls up his blanket, and tries to sleep.

Chapter Text

Ironically enough, Charlie runs. He never stops running, run and run and run more. This is why he is considered one of  the best students at track. “Come on year tens!” the coach yells, “We’ve been at this all year and no one has beaten Charlie’s time yet. Of course on the other Field is the year elevens, Nick is meant to be playing lacrosse. And he is meant to be playing it well based on the expectations everyone had made of him, and there he was stealing glances at the best runner. He  was just admiring the athletic achievement.. Right? He didn’t like Charlie…

    “Nick?” his train of thought is broken?

    “Yeah,” he says not braking his gaze 

    “What are you staring at?”

    Nick finally realises how noticeable he is, the staring and the lacklustre performance (Aka barely moving to keep up the last thing on the list). “Nothing!” He blurts, starting to keep his eye on the ball. The environment of the game quickly changes as everyone becomes interested in the game. Not necessarily a testosterone fueled place, but more boyish smiles and scraped knees and everyone Joking and grinning. Finally as Charlie starts to slow down from how tired he is from running so very much, he turns to the buoyant laughter of  Nick and his friends. A tad nervously, he fixes his hair, and starts to head to his locker. 

As he takes out his books for the next class words break into him, “Hey Charlie,” The voice instantly recognizable, “I need to talk to you

“...Er. I have a drum lesson right now” Then again starting to curse himself for his inability to come up with excuses. 

“Answer my fucking texts! It’s been two weeks.” Ben goes on, not bothering to hear Charlie, not letting himself hear charlie.

Charlie attempts to make himself heard but it comes out weak and stuttering, “I already said I don’t want to meet up with you anymore.” His voice cracks on ‘said’. He starts to exit the locker room. Ben follows.

“And that’s it. No explanation?!” His jaw flows more than usual as he speaks, he waves his hands to talk there too.

“Well, yeah…I guess so.”More stuttering, more ‘if I ignore this it will go away’

Until finally Ben grabs him by the collar and yells, “That’s not good enough, Charlie!” Except it wasn’t Bens’ voice who said his name, it was Nick.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, drawing closer, “Er…is everything all right. I didn’t know you knew Ben”

“Yes…?” Escapes from Charlie's mouth as Ben lets them go.

“We’ll talk later Charlie,” And Ben finally let himself leave. Both Nick’s and Charlie's eyes divert to him until his presence is completely gone. 

Immediately as Ben is gone Nick reverts to his almost puppy like energy, slouched, “Why are you friends with Ben Hope? He’s kind of a dick.”

“We’re not friends,” Charlie practically yells, he catches himself and he tries to calm down, “I… help him with his maths homework.”

“Ok… Well anyway… I have something to ask you?” And Charlie  blushes more. In his own head he is begging for a confession of love, for Nick to come out as Gay or Bi or Pan, or even unlabled. Just anything that could get Charlie somewhere romantically. He was begging, for a foothold. “Do you want to join the rugby team? We’re short by one player! Everyone seems to prefer football.”

“Er… well I don’t really know how to play, I don’t even watch it on tv”

“That’s ok! I’ll teach you, gladly.”

 Nick is already getting his hopes and Charlie doesn’t want to let him down but first: “But… Why me?” Getting his hopes up for romantic interest in Nick again.

“I saw you run in P.E. You’re really fast!” Nick said, without realising he had let Charlie down a tad; but the puppy-like energy always makes up for it. 

“Err… well aren’t I a bit weak and small for rugby?” And Nick falls into Charlie’s words, the room melting away as Charlie becomes all he can focus on.

“...Well this is only the school team,” Nick tries to rationalise Charlie joining the team even more.

“So you’re saying I’m weak?” Charlie jokes and fishes simultaneously. 

“No!!” Nick tries to save but is cut off by the bell.

Charlie takes his bag and checks it a final time not exactly remembering which books he got exactly with the distraction of Nick “Fuck, I’m missing my rum lesson.”

“Lunch is over already?” Nick says, bring to mind a puppy stopping its tail wagging.

Charlie turns and grins back to Nick, “Can I think about it?”

“Yeah, sure!” Nick does not recognize it but he hopes that by extension Charlie will be thinking about him.

“Ok, I’ll see you later,” Charlie finally leaves, finally leaving Nick with his thoughts now both about Charlie's talent in running, and Charlie's talent in running, and his talent with drums. That week goes by with the normal amount of exchange between the two boys. Hey. The exchange ‘heys’ at least on a daily basis, but with Nick there’s always some conflict with the matter of practice.

“Charlie spring though?” comes from the mouths of one of his friends.

“Yes?”

And the insults are thrown, coming out in a cacophony that Nick can only make out a few statements of: “Why him though, he’s a fucking stick, Like I know he’s popular and everyone loves him but can he even play, I’m sure he’s a nice guy but we want to actually be good, does he even like sports? Everyone knows he’s gay! 

And everyone shuts up, and turns to the creaking door. Before anyone can recognize who it is Nick's mood picks up and he greets his friend, “Hey!”

“..Hey” 

After that the time in the locker room slows down, no one wants to talk for the fact that an elephant has entered the room. Everyone vacates it in a semi-quick fashion. “So there are four ways to score in Rugby,” Nick starts, “A try, a conversion, or a drop-goal.” He takes his fingers and starts ticking things off on his hand while he speaks, “A try is where you ground the ball over the line, conversions and penalties are where you get the chance to kick the ball at the goal without being tackled an a drop-goal is where you kick it through the posts during general play.” When Nick is passionate about something he talks very fast. This is evident in the fact that what all of this sounded like to charlie was:aghsdizukfjhcvnsdizk;fjx. 

“This is a lot of information,” Charlie threw in as he mentally took a deep breath.

Nick, as always, compensates for his overexictedness, “You’ll probably pick it up after a few games”

Charlie compensates in advance, “I hope you’re prepared for me to be absolutely crap.” 

Title this conversation the compensation game because Nick cuts in with, “You could be better than me for all we know-” 

Another cut in, “Charlie Spring!” This time it’s someone Charlie knows Ms.Singh is Charlie's gym teacher and previously was a professional rugby player. “So you’re the chosen one.” Here Charlie practically laughs in his head but picks up with the conversation. Basic questions about his year and sport history ensue. What everyone needs to know is that Charlie was to be an extra wing. “Nick, why don’t you use today’s practice to walk Charlie through the basics.”

“Sure!” Nick replied, glad to have an easier practice, and of course a little bit of him wanted the extra time with Charlie. To start off they practice the correct form to throw with, correcting Charlie as they develop. Telling him to twist his body, underthrow as opposed to over, all of the basic things. “So we’ve covered passing and scoring, we’ve got about fifteen minutes left so do you wanna give tackling a go?”

“Tackling? Oh-” Charlie tries to stop himself as he thinks of Nick on top of him, though in several different situations, some involving sport, some not.

Nick thinking Charlie’s simply nervous cuts into the train of thought, “It’s not too hard, watch the guys. They’re playing a match right now. You just have to take the player with the ball down by grabbing them below their shoulders. Want to give it a go?” 

“I’m definitely too weak for that,” Charlie tries to deny.

“Come on- where’s your ‘can do’ attitude,” Nick tries to encourage, “give it a go, just run at me. I won’t dodge….Go onnnnnn, I bet you can do it.” At this point that was Charlie and Nick’s thing, little bets, easing into each other to get more and more out of each other

Charlie slides into a grin, “fine..” And he starts running at Nick, the tackle around the waist, more a tackle hug than an actual tackle. Almost as they go down Charlies starts to get back up. Blushing. 

“That was perfect!” Nick continues trying to encourage Charlie.

“Was it?!” he replies, letting himself fall into the encouragement, but also still the flustered panic slips into his voice.

Nick starts to get up, off of the grass. “Let’s try it again while running.” And Charlie falls into thinking about it. Thinking about running and playing rugby with Nick. Little comments that could be flirting or could just be Nick fueled by testosterone. And that is exactly how it happened, day by day, getting closer to Nick, and upping his reputation with the team. 

A week or two goes by like this and, “He’s been doing really well, hasn’t he?”

“You’re surprised?” Nick replies to his teammate. They were all sitting on the benches, leaning against the chicken wire.

Teammate goes on, “Well all I knew about him was that he’s gay,” Stating the obvious.

“Mate, I don’t actually think being gay makes you bad at sports,” Nick replies, also stating the obvious, though less obvious than you think it would be to high school boys.

“I never said that!” Nick's teammate tries to save, “Anyway I can see why he’s popular, he’s managed to fit in really well.” 

The subject change is clearly effective because Nick starts, “Yeah…” His mind drifting to thoughts of Charlie, “He’s just a really cool guy.” letting himself slide into the grin. Yes, the grin. Nick’s stupid grin that is always a little lopsided that ust meant you cheered him up a little. Across those benches Charlie slips into a little grin of his own, noticing nick turns to him, “Your hair is sticking up”

“Is it?” Charlie starts, going to slick it down hoping it will work this time. “I’ve been thinking about cutting it.”

“What?!” Nick startles

“What?” Charlie asks, wanting to know what about his statement had startled Nick. Hoping to himself that Nick liked his hair.

“Just-” he pauses to think over his statement, “It’d be a big change.” He decides to under exaggerate it. 

Most of the boys start getting up and moving towards the locker room, Nick and Charlie are some of the last. “So am I like, actually any good?” Charlie breaks though with a question that was at least serious to him.

“What, at rugby?” Nick startles again, “Yeah of course you are!” Nick really hopes he won’t quit.

“Yeah?” Charlie responds more coming out as a question than a response.

“Why?” Nick questions the question, by now becoming accustomed to Charlies’ anxieties.

Charlie decides whether or not he should say what he actually feels. He chooses to do so, a rare occasion, he figured he’d need to get practice on that; especially with Nick. “I’m just a bit scared of letting everyone down, and I don’t even know whether they like me, or they want me on the team or…” he doesn’t finish, “yeah… It’s silly” he moves into the locker room, setting himself aside. Nick doesn’t yet know how to reply. “All of the older boys kinda remind me of the people who used to bully me.” 

Nick still remembered when Charlie was outed, the relentless bullying. He wishes at least he helped. He sets his hand on Charlies’ shoulder, “Well I want you on the team.” Helping how he can.

And Charlie starts to laugh. Laugh off any residual negativity. As always, run away from it. “Good!” He laughs more. As they stay in the locker room and change Charlie can’t get one thought off of his mind. He likes Nick, he hasn’t decided how yet though. 

“So is there anything you want to practise more often or…” As Charlie got into the school clothes he got out his phone and checked his texts. Staring at his phone. “Charlie?” pause. A wave in front of his face, “you ok?... Charlie!”

“Wha-” Charlie breaks out of it.

‘You ok?” Nick asks the question with a million layers

“Yeah,” Charlie stutters, “just got a text. Meeting up with someone after this. Sorry.”

“Okay,” Nick doesn’t really  respond. Both of the boys get ready and leave, losing themselves in thought. Nick hoping Charlie doesn’t have a boyfriend, though not really ever catching himself and Charlie hating himself for ever dealing with Ben. Thinking to himself of Ben and Charlie and dealing with both of them one phrase comes to mind, ‘what’s the point’. Charlie moves on to the music room that Ben had told him to meet him in. 

“Charlie,” Ben asserts. “You’re wearing a coat? It’s not even cold.” He puts himself in the high ground. Having to be above it all.

“It’s January,” Charlie states.

“Laaaaaame,” Ben extends the word. Cockily. Hell, cock, just what Benjamin Hope is.

“What do you want Ben,” Charlie starts. And Ben sets his hand on Charlie's shoulder, a gesture that seemed so casual and light and even made him blush when Nick did it, but that came as a threat from Ben. “Don’t touch me!”

“God, what is your problem? I’m just trying to be nice,” he goes on treating Charlie like a kid.

“I said I don’t want to meet up with you anymore,” Charlie tries to make a rhythm of dialogue that Ben can’t fall into.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.” Ben fits his cacophony into the rhythm anyway.

“What??” and the rhythm is gone here. Questioning and hurt feelings and lies are the things left that will grow. Reaping what you sow.

“I think you’re scared of us getting caught,” Ben rationalises.

“Why would I be scared, everyone in the school already knows I’m gay! YOU’RE the one who’s scared of getting caught! You’re not even my boyfriend! I’ve seen you with your girlfriend at the school gate. You don’t give a shit about me! You just found the nearest guy who was willing to make out with you and went for it!” Charlie yells, all of the drama can scatter to the winds, he hopes it gets pinned to Ben.

Again slipping his own noise into Charlie’s song, “You went for it too.” Less cacophony but more counterrhythm, more rebuttal, “Don’t be angry at me for not wanting to come out yet.

“I’m not angry about that!” It all spills out, “I’m angry that you never even slightly cared about my feelings at all! We only ever meet up when you want, where you want. When you feel like making out with a boy!” The anger doesn’t make him tear up, or he’s denying it, he doesn’t know at this point. “I could be anyone, you don’t give a shit!”

“That’s obviously not true,” Ben says, just to listen to himself, liking the sound of his own voice.

“It obviously is true! You just heard the rumours,” Charlie goes on, explosive, “And thought, ‘oh good, there’s finally a gay guy I can safely get off with!” Ben takes Charlie and puts him to the wall, he always loved how small Charlie is, how frail. “What the f-” And Ben kisses Charlie. It all melts in a pile of “Stops” and tears and comments from Ben that won’t matter, because Ben now won’t ever matter again except how much he hurt him…

All until Ben is dragged off Charlie, “He told you to stop you fucking prick!” And Nick shoves Ben away, tears in his eyes, wishing he took the opportunity to deck Ben in the jaw. Charlie starts to realise who, what is happening. “Go on! Fuck off!” Ben pauses, and turns away, finally recognizing Charlies’ big dog privileges. As Ben leaves Nick turns, “Are you ok?”

Charlie tries wiping away a few of his own tears, “I’m fine,” but it doesn’t come out that way, it comes out a sob.

“Are you sure?” Nick presents the opportunity but doesn’t force it.

Charlie takes it, “... Did you hear all of that? Or what of it did you hear?”

“Well..” Nick considers whether or not to be honest, and decides for it, “Most of it. I… just, you seemed stressed while getting changed and I wanted to make sure you were ok, and this is where it led me.”

A pause.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Nick fills the silence.

“S-” Charlie starts, “Sorry-”

Immediately cut off, “You have nothing to be sorry about!”

“Sorry…” Charlie realises what he did, “Shit.”

“You know you say sorry a lot.” Another pause, “Don’t say it.”

“I kind of wanna say it.” Charlie keeps his honesty streak. He hates it sometimes but loves that he can do it with Nick

Nick moves in and wags his finger like a grandmother chastising a toddler, “Don’t.” Charlie laughs and Nick starts to pat Charlie's shoulder. And the gesture again goes to something great “Come on, we’ll get locked in if  we stay much longer. Both of them walk out together, and part ways at the gate. Both thinking so much.

‘Idiot,’ Charlie's mind goes, ‘I’m such an idiot. Such a fucking Idiot.’he tries to make his mind black out as he walks homee, like a zombie.

“Good practice today Nicky?” Sarah, Nicks’ mother, asked. 

…

“Nick?”

“Mhm?” and no real valuable conversation ensued, for Nick’s mind was to busy on Charlie.