Work Text:
Today was just one of the days that Charlie Spring wished he didn’t exist.
It had already started off minging, an argument with his mother (story of his life) the night before and then a car speeding past the school and drenching him head to toe in water from last night’s rain as he left the bus.
It was then followed up by a series of mishaps in the changing rooms where he’d forgotten his pants (twice), was late to homeroom and got marked for it, couldn’t answer a question he knew off by heart in Maths and worse of all, Mr Ajayi was off with the flu and that meant no Art Room to hide in from the foreseeable future.
Honestly, just eviscerate him now. Fuck the exams, he needed a reset and stat. Thank god for Tao, Issac and lunch break. He never usually looked forward to being thrown out the back doors and onto the fields, but today, he was literally begging the clock to go faster.
When it finally did strike the right number and everyone was released, he couldn’t get though the crush of the crowd fast enough, hordes of students blocking his line of sight as he tried to find a way out to the door without much pushing. However, the plan suddenly changed in an instant when two things happened that he didn’t cause or control.
One, his hand was grabbed from somewhere and two, he was pulled. Violently.
He suddenly found himself being yanked backwards like he was on a bungee cord and dragged into the bathroom, feet digging into the ground and struggling as he panicked, thinking he was about to be jumped or worse, well, he didn’t want to think about worse. Worse was like what happened with him and Ben and he could feel his entire chest struggling to contain his rapidly beating heart as he tried to pull himself away again, yelling out. “Hey! Let me go, let me-mmmmph-”
His mouth was suddenly covered over by a hand and he was pushed into a toilet cubicle, one of the wider ones that only a few students used, covered in a million layers of graffiti and thankfully barely any filth, the wall catching him as he sprang away from his kidnapper (at least in his mind) and got ready to yell out so more, when he stopped dead.
“Christ, do you know how much trouble I got have gotten in if you kept yelling?”
Nick Nelson. Nicholas bloody Nelson, graduate of Truham, Charlie’s boyfriend of two years almost and first-year uni student, stands at the still unlocked door, rubbing his arm as the other stands rooted in shock across the way. “Seriously, Char, the police could have come and picked me up, not that you shouldn’t do that when someone’s grabbing you of course.”
Charlie is frazzled, his mind is trying separately to connect the information before him, to process this whole scene in front of him. Is Nick really here? In Herne Bay? Nick, contrary to the person in front of him, is supposed to be 4 hours away knee deep in uni assignments.
The boy in front of him that has suddenly sequestered him away into the bathrooms and /looks/ like Nick is clearly not 4 hours away, buried in work and unable to answer Charlie’s phone calls due to social engagements. This Nick is obviously tired, as anyone in their right mind would be at this time of year and is wearing a flannel shirt over a tank top and jeans with sneakers, strawberry blonde hair a picked mess, most likely from being on a train.
Christ, this really is Nick. Honestly, Charlie could cry. Scratch that, he does, cries all the way into the other’s arms like he’s welcoming home someone from military service, Nick’s arms holding him and trying to soothe him as he blubbers. When he pulls away, Nick’s just smiling at him and says something Charlie missed completely because Nick’s lips are on his and he’s forgetting the whole day completely, despite it still being in progress.
It’s cold against his back like the puddle was this morning as Nick pushes him against something, but he’s okay with it for once and Nick’s hands are making rather fast progress in reaching Charlie’s skin as his new set of clothing for the day is frisked by them, his blunt fingernails carving grooves into every notch he can find on Charlie’s confused, but working with it body, feeling sparks of lightning dancing across it’s nerve endings.
Soon enough, just as Charlie’s starting to get overstimulated, Nick’s mouth starts to slide down, down, down. First, it’s at his neck, sucking at the suddenly goosepimpled skin and his adam’s apple, before it’s passing his collarbone. Suddenly, the wetness is gone, which is disappointing, but fingers swiftly replace it, stroking over his uniform blazer and shirt before through closed eyes, he can feel hot air at his trousers, along with a hand at his zipper.
Charlie holds his breath in the silence that follows, before ever so brazen, the hand pulls down and frees Charlie’s penis from the captivity of it’s underwear and pants cage, the cold air making him shiver as it touched it, but it only lasted for so long before there was wetness taking off from it. A tongue and a mouth, swirling, sucking, freeing. It’s paradise.
Charlie’s eyes almost roll into the back of his head in pleasure, the day and his surroundings melting away as his hands fall to fist themselves into Nick’s hair as he earnestly gives Charlie the literal best blowjob of his life. Sure, it’s not exactly ideal, being they are in a school, in a bathroom and Nick is no longer a student and with turning 18, is technically having sex with a minor and cutting all sorts of corners with the legal system, but what the hell.
This is happening right now and there is no way Charlie’s stopping it, his body agreeing with him as his hips start moving at a speed that Before Nick Charlie would have viewed in a gay film of some kind and considered for lack of better words, feral.
Meanwhile down below, for someone who told Charlie to shut up earlier, Nick seems to have forgotten this as Charlie’s breathy moans echo off the tiled walls, cheeks hollowed out to take in as much of his boyfriend as possible. Nick’s practically been dreaming of doing this since he stepped on the train, he’d even had to have a wank in the carriage bathroom on the 4 hour trip down before this just to stop himself from popping wood in public.
Charlie’s messages of bad days literally kept him awake, to the point where he was starting to get very concerned that he was going to spiral. Sixth Form was no joke and while he got through it by the skin of his teeth (and some other things), Charlie’s different to him, not exactly in a good way, but he’d never say that to his face, ever.
Charlie’s…christ, he’s going to sound mad here, Charlie’s tough, but delicate at the same time. Charlie can handle so many things, but his mental health is no good. They only just got on top of the eating disorder, the depressive states, all that kind of thing, but mock exams and different routines and Nick’s absence worry Nick more than he likes to admit and if he’s worrying, he can’t imagine how Charlie is underneath all the sass and masks he wears.
Of course, the cure for that usually isn’t suddenly dropping to your knees and giving said boyfriend a blowjob after not seeing him in person for 5 months, but go figure.
It seems to be going well, however, as Nick looks up from his position, eyes taking in the semi-naked form of Charlie, head tilted back and black curls wild, chin and neck pointed to the sky and throat flexing with noise as Nick’s tongue inserts itself into the slit and his lips wrap themselves around the bottom half of the cap for grip and further diving. He’s been practising since he and Charlie first started doing sexual things with eachother, building it up bit by bit, little by little, until they had their first time together.
(Spoiler alert: That was going to be Charlie’s end of year dance night. Nick was going to pick him up in a suit and tie, escort him to the dance, then take him to an already paid-in-advance hotel room in London where they’d do the deed and finish the weekend on a high.)
Seems the lessons he was giving himself were paying off, as he could feel Charlie’s penis fill up, the taste changing under his tongue as it got ready to spray, but still as sweet and smokey as Charlie always had been, Nandos coming to his mind as a big example of what he could compare it too, despite the food analogy being a bit weird.
Just as he wiped the thought from his mind, however, Charlie’s shuddering above him, hips snapping out of their previous state and his mouth is filled with more material, the sides of his jaw aching a little as he fought to swallow down all of it, gag reflex finally allowing him to let go with a pop, lips bright red and swollen as he rolls his head up to stare straight up at Charlie as he tilts his head down, blue eyes dark in the fluorescent eyes. He’s ethereal like this to Nick, when he’s in a post-sexual haze, which is why he can’t wait to see what he looks like spread across some Egyptian cotton up the in the starry sky somewhere only for them.
The thought sends his body into a frenzy, but he keeps himself at bay as Charlie pulls him up by his collar of the ground to give him another kiss, the world drawing itself out around them once again and leaving them in their own little bubble.
Charlie of course, isn’t seen at lunchtime and when Tao texts, he replies back that he’s left early for the day.
Tao thinks it’s because Charlie needs a break and asks if he wants to talk about it.
Charlie’s reply is a TikTok of Nick Nelson in a singlet on his floor attempting to assemble something in Charlie’s house, thirst trap music and black and white filters abound.
Tao no longer wants to talk about it.