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Nick rinses the last of the shampoo from his hair and any residual soap from his shoulders before turning off the spray. He gives himself a little shake before running the squeegee mop quickly over the screen and stepping out of the shower. He grabs the towel he has left on the washbasin and proceeds to dry himself briskly. Considering it is May, it is still blooming cold, and also because it is May, the heating isn’t on, so he has no desire to hang around in the bathroom for long. Satisfied that he is dry enough not to drip on the hall carpet, he takes a different towel and wraps it round his waist to protect his modesty.
Not that modesty is generally a requirement in the Leeds house. His three housemates, Sai, Christian and Otis, have all been on the rugby team with Nick at various times, and their shared history of communal post-match showers means that they have no secrets. Even if they did, Nick is not likely to run into any of them on vacating the bathroom on this particular Friday evening. Sai has been summoned back to Leicester, for the second weekend in a row, to spend the bank holiday in the bosom of his family. Otis has a shift at the student union bar and won’t be back until the early hours, and Christian… well now that he and Polly are an item, Christian only seems to put in an appearance at the Leeds house, when he needs a change of clothes.
Nick runs a comb through his hair and gives the shower cubicle a quick once over to check it is in a reasonably fit state for a future occupant, then leaves the little bathroom on the half landing to climb the short flight of stairs to his bedroom. As he does so, he feels the towel slide down his torso and settle on his hips, revealing a tantalising trail of auburn hair which leads from his stomach and disappears beneath the strategically placed material. He leaves it where it has landed, once he is certain that it isn’t going to slide down any further. Nick is not particularly body conscious. His older brother David used to tease him when it became clear that Nicholas had inherited the pale freckled skin and ‘red-headed’ gene from their father, but Nick has no objections to the way he looks. His body is in good shape, his arms strong, his chest broad, abs well-toned and his legs firm and muscular. Yes, there is a hint of a pudge around his middle that he will have to watch when he gets older, but for the time being rugby keeps it at bay. And anyway, the only person who matters, seems to like it.
Nick smiles to himself, as he reaches the top of the stairs. That special someone, the reason that he is taking a shower at half past eight on a Friday evening, even though he has no intention of going anywhere, is presently waiting for him, curled up on his bed.
Nick pauses when he reaches the bedroom door because he can hear Charlie talking on the phone. They have been together just over four months, but during that time, have spent no more than a handful of days actually physically in each other’s company. It adds a strange dynamic to their relationship, it intensifies their intimacy when they are together, yet outside of the bedroom, there is a delicate shyness, as they still negotiate their ground rules. The opportunity to be together when it does come along is made more precious because of its scarcity value and as a result Nick and Charlie tend to avoid anything that intrudes on it, even phone calls. That Charlie is taking a call at all, makes Nick feel that something is off. That there is something agitated in Charlie’s tone causes Nick to hesitate on the threshold rather than entering his bedroom as he intended. Nick can’t help wondering if Charlie has deliberately waited for his absence to make the call, he doesn’t want to be overheard. Of course, that thought makes Nick’s present eavesdropping even more intrusive. He blushes slightly and starts to turn away, but just as he does so, he hears Charlie say, quite clearly.
“I’m going to tell him…I know I have to… I just haven’t found the right time.”
Nick is held, transfixed and cannot move away.
Tell him? Tell who? Tell me??
…
“I know, the longer it goes on the harder it is…”
What? The longer what goes on?
…
“The split is inevitable, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings… he’s not…”
Split? Splitting up?
“He’s not as robust as he appears, not once you really get to know him.”
Me?
…
“That’s easy for you to say, Tori. You’re not the one who is going to ruin someone’s life…”
Charlie? Whose life?
…
“…going to do it this weekend… Max has a plan… damage limitation…”
Nick retreats, pads back down the stairs and hallway on cat-like feet, until he arrives in the kitchen, hardly knowing how he gets there.
******
Day to day Nick’s level of belief that he and Charlie Spring, the Charlie Spring, vocalist and drummer of chart-topping band Guilty by Design are together, hovers around the fifty per cent mark. He goes about his normal routine, he completes his teaching placement, thankfully both passing his assessment, and failing to contract nits. He hands in his written assignments, finishes the rugby season, watches the Six Nations on the television in the bar while working his shifts. He spends Easter with his mother, eats too much chocolate and starts looking, somewhat half-heartedly, for a teaching post for September.
Every now and then a small, lopsided smile will cross his lips, as if echoing a fond memory or hidden pleasure. His mates call him on it, they know he has a person in his life, the source of two dozen red roses, and an impressive hickey the day after Valentine’s, but aside from that Nick gives nothing away. But just as often a frown will crease his forehead and his eyes will become downcast, and he will be silent and brooding as he wonders if perhaps it is all a dream, and Charlie is for a season before they go their separate ways. Sarah, the only person that Nick can really confide in, although Darcy and Tara know more than they let on, consoles him as best she can, convinced like all mothers that no-one is too good for their son. It helps but doesn’t completely quash the nagging doubts.
But when they are together or have recently Facetimed or spoken on the phone then his faith in the relationship rises to around the eighty-five per cent mark, and Nick’s smile is like sunshine, and he doesn’t complain when his year fives give him a stinking cold and Otis uses the last of the loo paper. But this level of buoyancy is hard to maintain through a miserable winter, when it doesn’t stop raining, and falls below fifteen per cent, when Charlie tours Japan over Easter, and the time zones make their infrequent phone calls dry up altogether for ten days, and then Charlie is photographed tête-à-tête with a dark haired stranger. (Although it recovers slightly when it turns out to be Simon, Chris’s boyfriend, who has flown out for the Easter holidays, a fact that manages to make Nick feel simultaneously better and worse about his own situation).
That Charlie is having second thoughts, is even discussing splitting up with him with his sister hurts like crazy, but to Nick is not unexpected. Whatever his mum has said, Nick has always known that Charlie is out of his league. Brilliant, beautiful, gifted Charlie who could have anyone, who fell in to a ‘thing’ with Nick when he was on the rebound from dicknozzle is better now, and ready to move on.
He puts the kettle on and while it is boiling goes into the utility room, unloads his washing from the tumble dryer and digs out a pair of boxers and a hoodie. He swiftly puts them on, they are still warm which he finds comforting. He throws the damp towel over the airer, his attempt at seduction seeming rather surplus to requirements now.
Back in the kitchen, he makes himself a cup of tea and almost as an afterthought makes one for Charlie, before taking both mugs and slowly climbing the stairs back to his room. He takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and goes in.
Charlie has finished his call and the room is quiet, he looks small and sad in the centre of Nick’s bed, although that could be Nick projecting. Charlie smiles when Nick enters and lights up the room.
“I made tea.”
“I wondered why you were taking so long, I missed you.”
Nick is confused but says nothing. He hands Charlie’s tea to him and places his own on the bedside table. Charlie peels back the duvet and pats the bed, motioning Nick to join him. Nick cannot resist. He sips his tea and wonders what he should do next, should he say something, but that would mean confessing to eavesdropping and he isn’t quite up for that. He doesn’t have time though for introspection as Charlie leans over to put his own tea down before pushing Nick so that he is lying flat.
“I believe I have a debt to pay.” Charlie whispers saucily.
The last thing Nick wants is a pity fuck but when Charlie takes him in hand, it seems his cock has other ideas. Nick watches, almost disembodied as Charlie leans in and swallows him down. His mouth is warmed by the tea… and oh God! Nick thinks, that is amazing, so hot, so hot! He cards his fingers through Charlie’s beautiful curls and recites the nine times table in an attempt not to come too soon, to savour every memory, in case it is the last. But Charlie’s tongue is too clever, his hands too skilful and Nick comes with a shout, and the prickle of tears at the corner of his eyes.
Charlie falls asleep quickly afterwards, his body clock still adjusting to British Summer Time. Nick holds him in his arms, and thinks of what might have been, until finally sleep captures him too.
******
Nick’s phone wakes him the next morning with a series of message alerts. He gropes for it groggily and peers at the messages. They are all from Sai.
Sai: Help! Dad’s got the bunting out and is insisting on us standing for the national anthem and swearing the oath of allegiance.🆘🆘
Sai: The aunties are here in force, if one more asks me if I would like to meet their consultant’s niece I will scream. 😱
Sai: Code red. Please phone to say house is on fire and I am needed urgently. This is not a drill. 🆘
Sai: Repeat. This is not a drill.
Nick laughs out loud, the movement of his chest when he does so, wakes up Charlie who has been sleeping half on top of him. Charlie opens his eyes, yawns, and stretches like a cat.
“Morning.”
“Morning, what was so funny?”
Nick shows his phone to Charlie, who also laughs.
“Oh God, the coronation… there’s a watch party at the chaplaincy centre.”
“Do you want to go?” Charlie asks tentatively.
“Hell no… but… I kind of think I should… perhaps watch it on the TV, it is history in the making after all…”
“Sure.” Charlie agrees, “I don’t mind watching it… for the frocks.”
“You are such a dweeb.”
“And you’re not… history in the making, my arse. You just want to see what monstrosity Princess Beatrice’s got on her head!”
Nick grabs his pillow and aims it at Charlie who swiftly retaliates. They pillow fight for a few minutes, but it is risky, and they call a truce when Nick declares he needs a wee, and tea in that order and Charlie seconds that plan.
There is no sign of Otis when Nick gets downstairs, although his coat is hanging up in the hall. Nick makes tea and toasts crumpets and brings their breakfast up to his bedroom on a tray. Charlie has fired up his laptop in the meantime and has iplayer on. Nick puts the tray down on the bed and slides back under the duvet carefully so as not to disturb it, before pulling it to where it is within reach.
“What’s happening?” He asks Charlie.
“There are a lot of men poncing around in uniform, which is always worth watching, and Katy Perry can’t find her seat, but apart from that not a lot.”
Nick smiles and offers one of the crumpets to Charlie, “Here, eat this, it’s going to be a long morning.”
After they have finished their breakfast Nick moves the tray so they can snuggle down again. They watch the frocks arrive, then the royal family, Princess Beatrice disappoints. Nick dozes a bit and Charlie sings Zadok the Priest under his breath. Once a choirboy, always a choirboy.
"You know, I read somewhere that Winston Churchill objected to the Queen's coronation being televised."
"Yeah?" Nick replies, curious.
"Yeah, he was worried men would watch it in pubs with their caps on, would take away from the dignity and solemnity of the religious service."
Nick laughs, "Really? Bizarre."
"If on he knew that that the next one would be watched by two guys in bed together, who could be up to all sorts of dis respectful behaviour."
Charlie matches his actions to his words, by running his hand along the inside of Nick's thigh. Nick shimmies just out of reach.
"Oi!" he exclaims, laughing, "Eyes Front! I'm not going to make out with you in front of the Archbishop of Canterbury."
Nick gets antsy a little later and complains, “I thought this was supposed to be a slimmed down version.”
Charlie laughs, “I think it is, the last one was five hours or something.”
“Well, I think little Louis had the right idea, ducking out during the sermon.”
“He’s probably gone to do colouring in the church hall.”
Nick goes off to make more tea. It all seems very normal… for them, watching the television has been the accompaniment to their relationship.
When Nick returns the service is nearly over, they watch a little of the carriage procession before turning the laptop off and snuggling down again.
“Nick.” Charlie whispers.
“Yeah.”
“Can it… can it just be us today, no-one to see, no-where to be.”
“Sure. We can do that.” Nick pulls Charlie closer and holds him tight. He wishes he was brave enough to ask Charlie what his intentions are, but he is in denial. He feels safe, cocooned in his room, in his bed, with Charlie in his arms, as if they are in Sleeping Beauty’s castle and he has no wish to break the spell.
******
Sai continues to send messages throughout the day. Normally Nick would ignore his phone in Charlie’s presence, but Charlie is also surreptitiously checking his, and in any case Sai’s increasingly frantic pleas for help are a source of great amusement to Nick and Charlie. Charlie has never met Sai, and Nick wonders now if he ever will, that doesn’t stop him making imaginative contributions to Nick’s replies. Around four o’clock they hear the front door slam, which Nick recognises as Otis going out. He thinks his housemate is probably off to the student union again, although he doesn’t know if he is working or just socialising.
Once they have the house to themselves, they get up, shower and dress and take a walk on the hill. It is a short walk as the weather is cold and wet. Nick feels better for blowing the cobwebs away, but Charlie is quiet, subdued even and nothing seems to lift his mood. Nick cooks pasta bolognaise for dinner, and they open the wine that Charlie brought with him, then they curl up together on the sofa, and try to find something on the television that isn’t coronation related.
They are not entirely successful; they end up watching the BBC’s Lionel Richie special.
“They’re only showing this because he’s in the concert tomorrow.”
A thought strikes Nick. “Were you asked?”
Charlie pauses, colours slightly and then replies. “Yeah, but Max thought we would get more publicity by declining. He was probably right… and in any case…”
He hesitates again and his blush deepens. Nick leans his head towards him, “What?”
“Nothing… just Take That are headlining, they’re pop royalty, we could hardly compete.”
He laughs and Nick laughs with him, then suddenly serious Charlie pulls Nick into an embrace which quickly becomes heated.
“I’ve had enough of Lionel, let’s go to bed.”
******
When Nick opens his eyes the next morning Charlie is already awake, sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone. He slams it face down on the bed when he senses Nick looking at him, then leans over to distract his lover with a kiss.
“Morning.”
Nick ducks his head, muttering something about morning breath, but Charlie persists. Nick breaks away, he is confused, he has spent the last thirty six hours feeling like he is sitting on a bomb, waiting for it to explode, for Charlie to tell him that they are through. But Charlie has been as sweet and affectionate as he has been from that first, Boxing Day night… but sad… Nick can sense sorrow coming off him in waves. He gears up to speak to Charlie about it, but just as he begins his phone lets out a series of beeps.
“Aren’t you going to check that?” Charlie asks.
Nick is torn, but then thinking it might be his mum, picks up his phone.
Sai: Bastard! 😡😠👿
Sai: Some friend you are! 😠😠
Sai: You were supposed to come to my rescue.
“It’s Sai.”
“It’s ok, answer it.” Charlie says, turning away from Nick and picking up his own phone, resuming scrolling.
Nick quickly types.
Nick: Can’t you make excuses??
Nick: Assignments?
Sai: Not even for assignments.
Sai: Mum knows my timetable better than I do. ☠👿💀
Sai: There’s the street party this pm then a two hour concert to watch for 5 mins of Sonam Kapoor 😛
Shit Nick thinks. He’s forgotten about the Chaplaincy Centre concert watchalong.
He turns to Charlie.
“There’s a barbeque this afternoon at the centre, and then watching the coronation concert. I said I’d help but that was before I knew you’d be here today. We don’t have to go. I’m sure I can get out of it.”
Charlie looks thoughtful, then asks. “Is it an LGBTQ+Soc thing?”
“No, they are conserving their energy for next week’s Eurovision Song Contest marathon. But I expect most of the usual suspects will be there.”
“Tara and Darcy?”
“Yeah, Darcy’s on the door, Duncan’s got me down to flip burgers.”
Charlie doesn’t reply immediately, and Nick watches his face for a sign of what he’s thinking, but apart from his general air of sadness he doesn’t give anything away. Finally, he smiles at Nick and says,
“Okay, why not?”
“You’re not worried about being recognised.”
“Nah. I’m rarely recognised out of context; I’ll just be your buddy from Kent again.”
******
When Nick brings their breakfast up to his room sometime later, Charlie is once more on his phone, although he puts it away quickly when Nick appears, caught out, a guilty look covering his face.
What is Charlie googling?
‘Ten ways to tell someone its over’?
‘How to break up without breaking down’?
Will there be a car at the door again Nick wonders, like there was after the first time?
Nick can’t stand it any longer, his stomach is in bits, he can hardly eat. Charlie seems to be the same, pulling the crumpets into little pieces but still he doesn’t say anything. Nick is so confused, but he does his best to put himself in Charlie’s place, and in a sudden moment of clarity a thought occurs to him.
What if Charlie has got it into his head, he needs to do this to protect him?
He may not have known Charlie long, but he has learnt enough about him during their lengthy middle of the night calls to understand the issues he has with self-esteem. Charlie may be brilliant, talented and gorgeous… kind, thoughtful and all round amazing but that arsehole Ben Hope really did a number on him when they were supposedly together, and damage like that doesn’t disappear in four short months.
“I don't want us to split up.”
“What?”
Nick is somewhat gobsmacked that he has said those words out loud, but now he has started there’s no way he can stop.
“I know that you’ve been hurt and made to feel like someone’s dirty little secret and that it is cutting you up to think that you might do the same to me. But you’re not the bad guy here…”
“Nick.”
“I know we got together on the rebound, you from Ben, me from Anna, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make it work.”
“Nick.”
“Maybe you think I'd be better off without you, that I’d be happier in a relationship where fame didn’t come into it… but I need you to know that my life is way better because I met you.”
“Nick.”
“If you really want to break up, then I would respect your decision, but I want us to be together.”
“Nick.”
Nick has run out of steam. Charlie puts down his mug of tea and catches Nick’s face between his hands. His dear face.
“Nick, I don’t want to split up with you. I don’t know where you got that idea. You’re the best thing that has happened to me, even better than the grammy, and the platinum album…”
“I heard you on the phone,” Nick tries to explain, “You were talking about it to your sister… about splitting up… and telling me this weekend. That your manager had a plan to extricate you…”
Charlie’s phone chooses that moment to buzz. Nick prays that Charlie will ignore it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he picks it up, reads the message and then swipes to delete it.
“Here.” He hands the phone to Nick, it’s the same flash Samsung Zfold, that he was so envious of at Christmas. It is open at a newsfeed.
“What am I looking at?”
“Read the headlines.”
Solemnity, celebrity, and regal spectacle: the day Charles became a 21st century king.
“Scroll down.”
King's coronation: Tory MP Penny Mordaunt takes the limelight carrying enormous sword.
Conservative MP and cabinet member was entrusted with the key role at the ceremony in her role as the Lord President of the King's Privy Council
“Sounds more like something in Boris’s line.”
“Go on.”
“More of the same, King… King… Camilla… Coronation… Kate…”
Dress your little princess like Charlotte wearing Alexander McQueen
Princess Charlotte matched her mother for her starring role in her grandfather's Coronation, complete with a braided up do and matching crystal headpiece.
“Ok, finally something that’s not coronation.”
“What is it?”
Revealed: Labour won back swathes of Brexit voters in the local elections
Analysis of ‘key ward’ figures shows the coalition of Tory support that was built by Boris Johnson has fallen apart.
“I take it, that isn’t what you wanted me to read?”
“No, keep scrolling.”
Nick is perplexed but does as Charlie says.
“What now?”
“Putin… Ukraine… mass shooting… earthquake… cost of living… that’s coronation focused…oh…”
“Is it there?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
End of the Road for Top British Band?
“Will you read it to me?”
“Ok.”
Nick’s head is spinning but he realises that Charlie needs him to do this.
The real reason behind top UK band Guilty by Design declining to take part in this weekend's Coronation Concert has emerged and it is not good news for fans. Initially the band claimed that exhaustion after their extensive sell out tour of North America and the Far East had prevented the band committing to appear, however it now seems that there were more troubled reasons for the band to pass up the opportunity to perform before King Charles and Queen Camilla.
Rumours of friction between the band members have been rife ever since drummer and vocalist Charlie Spring failed to appear on stage at their Christmas Eve concert in Los Angeles.
Spring is not the only member of the band to have itchy feet, after it was reported that vocalist and bass player Johnny Faraday was spotted dining with Kevin Feige, primary producer and key player in the MCU franchise. Faraday, a former child actor who has credits in Eastenders, Holby City and Endeavor is said to be keen to resume his acting career and a role in any forthcoming MCU production would be a golden opportunity.
In a statement by their management company, the band were quoted as saying they had had “some of the best moments of our lives”, but they were now excited about the future.
“We are forever grateful to our fans, who have supported us in every way,” the statement continues, “It is hard to articulate the love and respect we have for all of you, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”
“It’s been a blast, but now it is time to move on.”
No individual member of Guilty by Design was available for comment.
Nick hands the phone back to Charlie who lays it down on the bed beside him.
“Well, that’s that then?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel?”
“Sad… relieved… exhausted… excited… like I need a hug.”
“Well, that is something I can help with.” Nick opens his arms, and Charlie collapses into them.
“I can understand you being emotional, it’s a bereavement in a way, but I don’t understand why you didn’t want to tell me… you could have guessed I would support whatever decision you made.”
“I was always going to tell you as soon as I knew Max had issued the press release. It was his idea to release it today. A good day to bury bad news, he said.”
“But you said you didn’t know how to tell me, that it would ruin my life.”
Charlie raises his head from where it has been resting on Nick’s chest.
“That was Raury… you dork… he’s the member of the band I have known the longest, we were at school together, but he’s the only one of us that doesn’t have a plan B. He’s not in a good place, Max has got him into rehab, and I guess he might have a chance of a solo career if he can sort himself out, but I can’t help thinking us calling it quits is ruining his life.”
Nick thinks Raury is making a good attempt at ruining his own life if he needs rehab but doesn’t say so. Instead, he just pulls Charlie closer and holds him tight.
“We don’t have to go to this thing this afternoon. I’ll message Duncan and let him know something has come up.”
Charlie sighs, “No it’s okay, I want to go. I need to start getting used to student life… and besides, it might be interesting to see how many of the original members of Take That can still stand to be in the same room as each other… for future reference…”