Chapter Text
Charlie sighed as he made a cup of tea and returned to the office, Daisy trotting along behind him, and curling up under the desk at his feet. He should probably take a break, but he was already feeling like he was falling behind. He pushed the plate of half-eaten buttered toast to the side, and hovered his hands over the keyboard.
Charlie looked at the plate he had just pushed aside, guilt warring in him. He dropped his hands down and pulled the toast back in front of him. He broke a small piece off and inhaled.
Exhaled.
Ate the small piece.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Ate another.
Daisy looked up at him and snuffled his hand. He ruffled her head, scratching behind each ear in turn.
He looked at his phone, and debated with himself.
Gay Nerd:
I think it’s time for meal plans.
Rugby Lad:
OK x
Do you need me to come home early?
I love you.
Gay Nerd:
No. I just needed to tell you before I convinced myself I’m fine.
I love you too.
Charlie slowly ate the rest of the toast, interspersing each segment with a gulp of tea. Finally finished he placed the plate on the floor next to his chair, where Daisy sniffed at it in interest, and returned to his keyboard and social change in Roman Britain.
Nick nudged the door open with a toe and hefted his crate of marking over the threshold. “Char?” Daisy clattered her way out of the office and came up for a head scratch, Charlie following moments after.
“You didn’t have to come home early.” Charlie said as he came into view, the words of rebuke gentled by the gladness in his tone and softness about his eyes at the sight of his husband home so much earlier than expected.
“I know you said that, but I can do my marking here as easily as I can at school.” Unspoken was the reason he hadn’t just done his marking at school like he usually did. Charlie knew that Nick would have had trouble staying at school past the last lesson of the day if he was worried.
“It really wasn’t necessary.” Charlie protested. “But I’m glad you’re here.” He moved closer for a kiss, tripping over the edge of the crate of student books and nearly falling into Nick’s arms as they came up around him. “I never mind having you home more.” He tipped his head back and reached up to meet Nick in a kiss.
“Wanna talk about it now?” Nick asked as he pulled Charlie upright.
“Could we wait? I was just on a roll with the section I’m writing.”
Nick nodded, and bent to pick up the crate of books. “What do you want to do for dinner? I’ll start it when I’m done marking these.”
“Something simple. Soup maybe? Have we got any?”
“I’ll figure something out. You go write that section before it gets away from you.” Nick kissed Charlie on the forehead and spun him back in the direction of the office with a gentle shove. Seeing Charlie at ease had calmed the worry tickling at the back of his brain.
He fossicked through the fridge for ideas, sauteing off some onion, garlic, and bacon, then chucking all the leftover vegetables he can find into the pot to simmer in some stock, tossing in a few sprigs scavenged from the neglected herb garden, before settling at the dining table to mark the Year 9 French classes bookwork, rising every four or five books to give the soup a stir. The standard of writing wasn’t any better than any other class of year 9s he had taught, but he was resigned to it now, rather than frustrated. Most of them came right by the time they did A-levels. That or they chose subjects where essay writing wasn’t a big part of their grade.
Once he had written the last comment in red ink and applied the last ‘good job!’ sticker the soup was starting to take shape. He set off around the house to collect mugs while the kettle boiled and took a fresh mug of tea into Charlie, kissing him on the top of his head while swapping it for the empty one from earlier in the day. Charlie paused briefly in his typing to lean into the kiss before his fingers were flying over the keyboard again.
“Dinner’s nearly ready, but it will keep. Come out when your inspiration dries up.” Nick kissed his head again.
“Mmmm” Charlie acknowledged minimally, absorbed in what he was writing. Nick huffed his amusement at the way Charlie was immersed in the work, and retreated to the lounge, clicking his fingers for Daisy to follow him.
Half an hour later Charlie emerged. “The bones of Chapter Four are now complete!”
“Chapter Four?” Nick was incredulous. “That’s amazing progress. So you have just the Conclusion and Introduction to go?”
“And all the rewrites, and the Intro and Conclusion are still pretty big. And nothing is anywhere ready to be submitted yet, but yeah.” Charlie grinned.
“I feel like soup is a bit of a let down for such a momentous occasion.” Nick said. “But soup my darling clever gay nerd husband asked for and soup is what he shall have.” Nick exuded pride, Charlie couldn’t help but feel warmed by it.
They set the table together, Nick making some final checks on the food, Charlie pulling the toaster to the table in lieu of croutons. By unspoken agreement they were leaving the talk about Charlie’s mental state until later, after they had reconnected about the little things in their lives. Charlie talked about the mud puddle Daisy had rolled in when he had let her out this morning. Nick updated Charlie on Youssef and Nathan’s holiday plans.
Dishes done, and mugs of tea in hand they had settled on the Sofa, snuggled together, when Nick broached the elephant in the room. “Are you ready to tell me what prompted that text?”
“I…” Charlie started. “... I had trouble eating my toast at lunch. I came back to it after I pushed it to the side, but… It was harder to eat than it has been for a while.” Nick hugged Charlie into his side supportively and waited for him to continue. “I know I need to eat. I know I deserve to eat, but…old habits die hard and the vicious little voice in my screwed up brain is still there. Beaten into submission most of the time, but still there.”
“Did you talk to Geoff about it, back when you did your pre-write up check-in?”
“Yeah. Most of what we talked about was revisiting how I dealt with it originally, finding other ways to be in control.”
“So… meal plans.”
“Meal plans. And Timetables.”
“Timetables? Like a school timetable?” Nick asked confused
“Kinda.” Charlie paused to think how best to explain. “Remember when you were at Leeds and I was at Durham, one year I managed to have Thursday Afternoons and Fridays free.” He paused and Nick nodded. “So in order to be able to spend those with you in Leeds I had to make sure I was keeping up with all my reading, and…”
“You had a plan on your bedroom door about when you would do your reading blocks. At least one of them was during our team tactics meeting on Fridays.” Nick recalled with a faraway look in his eye.
“Yeah, So I knew when I would do the reading and wouldn’t be anxious about not getting it done, because I knew I had blocked out the time for it, and as long as I stuck to the plan I was fine. That’s the sort of timetable Geoff reckons I should consider now.” Charlie looked at Nick with big eyes. “Just to keep the vicious little voice at bay until I can shut it away again.”
“Sounds like a good idea. So time planning and meal planning. We can do that.” Nick looked down at Charlie. “That’s fairly easy and straightforward, in theory anyway. Will it be enough? Is there anything else to keep the vicious little monster at bay?”
“That’s most of it. The rest is things like making sure I get some exercise, and that we always have the right ingredients in the house to make the meals on the plan, and stuff like that.”
“Not being alone to eat?” Nick asked softly.
“It would help, but you’ll be here for breakfast and dinner. I’m sure I can manage lunch.”
Nick looked thoughtful. “I…” He started. “Nevermind.” Charlie looked at him strangely then shrugged internally. Nick would tell him later if it was important.
“Shall we start planning then?” Nick asked rhetorically, squeezing Charlie again before getting up, returning with a pen, pad, a stack of recipe books, and the old meal plan folder. “Do you want to start with meals or time?”
Two hours later, Charlie had a plan for how he would divide up his week, and the first fortnight's meal plans. Every day would start with the both of them going for a walk with Daisy, then eating breakfast together. Weekdays Charlie would take himself to his office when Nick left for work, and work in two-ish hour blocks.Two hours, a tea break, then another two hours. Then it would be time for a quick outing with Daisy and lunch, timed to match the Truham lunch time. Another couple of two hour blocks broken up with a wee break and Nick would be home. Depending on how the writing was going Charlie would either keep working until Dinner was ready, or take a break with Nick, going back for another hour or two after dinner, and at no point would he work past 9pm, giving him time to decompress enough to get good sleep, and for the two of them to have time together.
Charlie would write only 8 hours across the weekend, but those were to be booked in each week, as plans were made. The Paris Squad were all invited for Movie Nights every Saturday, harkening back to their high school days, and they would go ahead regardless of numbers. Each Sunday the supermarket delivery would arrive, and they would plan meals for the rest of the following fortnight ordering the groceries for the next week's delivery. Charlie would always know all the meals for seven to fourteen days ahead.
Nick was in his element drawing up a pretty version of the timetable to stick on the fridge. “I might make magnets for the weekends, so we can move the blocks around, or should we just laminate it and write on it with whiteboard pen?” He looked up at Charlie to gauge his opinion.
Charlie chuckled. “Whatever you think is best. That sort of stationery decision is much more your area of expertise.”
“You’ll pay for that.” Nick said as menacingly as he could, wielding markers and leaning over poster card stock.
“Make me.” Charlie retorted, then scrambled backwards over the sofa as Nick approached, marker in hand, ready to draw on Charlie. Nick launched himself forward straddling Charlie and drawing hearts and stars all over his face, before leaning in for a kiss. “Time for bed?” Charlie offered, trying to distract Nick before he could draw anything else.
“Bed? Or Bed?.” Nick questioned, changing the inflection to something more intentional and euphemistic as he repeated himself.
Charlie swooped up kissing Nick, one hand reaching behind his head, the other wrestling for control of the marker. “Whichever….stops….me…. getting…drawn…on.” He said between kisses.
“Charlie! Using your wiles to get your own way! Whatever happened to the sweet Gay Nerd I fell in love with?”
“Whatever works, love.” Charlie laughed through the kisses, still keeping hold of the hand holding the marker. “Can we go upstairs now?”
Nick gave up battling for control of the marker, lifting Charlie up instead. Charlie gave a cry of surprise before looping his arms behind Nick’s head, inadvertently scribbling on Nick’s shoulder as he tightened his grip.
“Let’s go. You know the plan for tomorrow?” Nick paused by the doorway to let Charlie reach out and turn off the lights.
“I do. Even if I forgot, you’d look after me.” Charlie nuzzled into Nicks’ neck as Nick climbed the stairs.
“Always.”
—--
“Michael came round for lunch today” Charlie announced over dinner a fortnight later.
“He said he might.” Nick replied nonchalantly.
“He said he might? Or you suggested it would be a good idea?” Charlie asked pointedly.
“I…may have said that you preferred eating with company when he rang the other day, and I may have told him what time you schedule lunch.” Nick’s lips were twitching.
“I’m not mad. Just let me know if you are arranging lunch buddies for me.”
“Uh… In that case.” Nick started, lowering his fork. Charlie looked at him more closely. “... I may have also suggested to Olly that he study at our place when he goes on Study Leave next week.” Nick chewed his lip. “I mean, you preferred studying not at home when you were doing A-levels, and once the prefects aren’t in school to help keep a lid on the Year 10s, I’m going to have more lunch duties, so I won’t always be able to Facetime you if you’re having an off day.”
Charlie smiled at such typical Nick behaviour. “It’s OK. He can study, I can write. We can both eat properly. He can do the dishes.” Charlie added with a smirk. A thought occurred to Charlie. “Is this what you were thinking of when we made the plan?”
“It crossed my mind.” Nick took another bite of pie. “How is Michael?” He redirected the conversation.
“Fine. He may have a job lined up for when his gig with Sport UK is done.”
“Hmm?” Nick queried around a mouthful of Fish Pie.
“You know how he always had to be available for drug tests while he was still competing.” Charlie started.
“Yeah, always keeping that location app up to date, and being ready to wee at a moment's notice.”
“Exactly. Well Anti-Doping UK are looking for chaperones. They’re the ones who knock on the door and stay with the athlete until the test is done.”
“So he would be cold-calling people and watching them wee.” Nick said with a grin.
“Amongst other things.” Charlie chuckled. “There would be office work as well, keeping track of products with banned substances, and the substances themselves, some liaison work with sports teams and athletes, potentially trips to big events like the world champs and Commonwealth games, where chaperones are needed in higher numbers.”
“And he’s interested in that work? He said he wasn’t keen on the coaching life, and it sounds like a lot of the same travelling.”
“Coaching is unpredictable in location and income. This is salaried and he’d mostly be dealing with athletes in the south-east, outside London, but still involved in the world he knows.” Nick nodded and returned to his Fish Pie.
“What’s the news from school?” Charlie cut his pie into small pieces and started eating.
“The usual for this time of year. Year 11’s and 13’s are freaking out.” Nick continued with small anecdotes about the collective craziness that was the senior years preparing for exams, while Charlie worked his way through the food on his plate. As he neared an empty plate Nick rested his wrists on the table, his cutlery hovering over his remaining food. “Do you remember me telling you about the second coming of Ben Hope?”
“Yeah? He had an older brother too, didn’t he?”
Nick nodded. “It’s the older brother. He’s been bullying some of the younger kids. The ones Nathan and I have been keeping an eye on.” Charlie reached out a hand and rested it sympathetically on Nick’s. Those kids were the ones that triggered their gaydar.
“Singh has read him the riot act, and he was stripped of his colours*. He’s pulled his head in, so at least the bullying at school has stopped, but I’m worried about the younger brother.” He looked up at Charlie, the distress clear on his face. “If big brother is saying those things at school, where it’s clear it’s not acceptable, what’s being said at home? The parents' behaviour makes it clear they don’t approve of ‘the homosexual lifestyle’ , I doubt it’s a bastion of inclusivity or unconditional acceptance.”
Charlie pushed out from the table and came around to embrace Nick. “You just do what you can. Try to make sure he knows he can come to you, and he’ll be safe in your classroom. It’ll make a difference.” He pulled back enough to look Nick in the eye. “Trust me. Even one person makes a difference.” Charlie pulled Nick’s head back into his chest. Nick breathed deeply, taking strength from Charlie’s closeness. “Let the kid know that not all the world is bigoted. Hope is a powerful thing.”
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding bringing this up until I finished my dinner.” Nick growled in amusement at being found out. Charlie grasped his head and tilted it back, forcing Nick to look up at him. “You care a lot. For me, for your kids. I love you for it. Just remember the world is not yours to fix.” He held Nick there until he saw resigned acknowledgement in his eyes, before bending to give him a quick kiss.
They got up and started clearing up in silence. They’d nearly finished the dishes before Nick spoke. “Mum said something similar once.” Charlie looked over at him with a furrowed brow, a question in his eyes. “Way back. When I was worried that you had an eating disorder, but before I talked to you about it.” Charlie opened his eyes a bit wider in surprise. “She said love can’t cure a mental illness, all I could do was support you to get help.”
“Sarah was right.”
“I guess I can’t fix everything.” Nick admitted, leaning back against the bench.
“No, you can’t.”
After a minutes silence he continued. “But you can still be there for the kid, and any others like him. Give him, them, hope that things will be different one day.” Charlie stopped talking, just looking at Nick, love in his eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. C’mon, I think you need cuddles and a Marvel Movie.” Charlie handed Nick a mug of tea and pulled him into the lounge.
Nick huffed in amusement, and followed.