Chapter Text
“It will be perfect for you. You’ll see. Your back will be okay and ready to be tackled again in no time at all.”
“Terrific outlook,” Nick mumbles, low enough that Tara, his best friend and responsible physiotherapist of the medicinal department of his rugby team, can’t hear him.
She means well, but his back hurts like hell for over half a year now and he might have become a bit whiny. Or hopeless. None of the measures taken have been successful in lowering his pain levels in any acceptable way and he wants to stop taking pain killers. There are too many horror stories in professional sports that have made him highly suspicious of them. He needs to sleep, however, to keep up his confidence that it will get better. As long as he doesn’t have that, the thick dark clouds above his head become thicker and darker every day. He can see in Tara’s eyes that she worries. He is worried himself, if he is being honest. Usually, he isn’t quite as happy-go-lucky as people tend to think he is, but he isn’t dreading every new day either. That feeling is new. And it frightens him.
Tara grabs his forearm with two hands and pulls him forwards into the shop.
“Trust me, okay?”
Nick forces a smile that feels like a grimace. “You know I do.”
Heaven , as the huge shop for beds and mattresses is called immodestly, provides on three floors everything that sleepers or, in many cases, non-sleepers can wish for. Bedframes are displayed on the ground floor, mattresses on the first and on the second the shop team has built ensembles complete with a frame, a fitting mattress, pillows, duvets and so on. There are even plants and some fake book shelves to make the surroundings appear homely and cosy.
“We have to go up to the second floor. When I found this with Darcy on Saturday, I knew at once it had to be yours.”
Nick stops, halting Tara in midstride.
“You didn’t spend your free day hunting for the perfect bed to help me with my back injury, did you?”
Yes, Tara is a friend as well as a colleague and yes, he has injured himself during a game. But. Darcy lives two hours from here as long as she won’t be finished with law school and the two women see each other too little as it is. He would hate it if he were responsible for slicing off this precious time, if unknowingly.
Tara winks at him. “It’s not that we didn’t have fun testing all these beds, you know?”
Nick blushes. Furiously. Dear Lord, he is a man of 24. When will this hellish tendency to blush at the smallest sexual innuendo finally stop? Not today, obviously.
His face feels unpleasantly hot, but he lets Tara take his hand and follows her up the stairs where the perfect bed and, thus, the end to all his problems are supposed to await him.
///
“You have gone through so much in the last two years. It’s time that you treat yourself,” Elle says not for the first time and pushes her glasses up determinedly. “Back me up, Tao.”
Tao, who has been distracted by a hot-water bottle in the shape of a Minion, turns towards his girlfriend and Charlie, already nodding. “Treat yourself. Fuck Ben. Fuck your boss. Fuck that the two were the same fucking person.”
Charlie groans.
Elle shoves Tao none too gently. “Don’t remind him,” she hisses.
Tao grunts.
“I don’t need reminding,” Charlie murmurs, brooding over all of his past failures all the time anyway.
“Stop it, Charles Frances Spring. The only person with the right to criticise you is me and I do it for your benefit. You only do it to put yourself down,” says Tao.
“You must admit that I’m not jackpot material.” Charlie smiles so feebly that the effect is quite depressing.
“I don’t have to do anything except for the things Elle wants from me,“ Tao says with fervour, which makes Charlie chuckle despite himself. His best, ever stroppy friend is so whipped it is ridiculous. And endearing.
They have crossed almost the whole floor to find, according to Elle, the most perfect bed ever, which would heal Charlie’s depressive bouts of sleeplessness in no time.
“Tadaaaaa!” Elle moves her arms like a third-rate saleswoman. “What do you say? Isn’t it gorgeous? You have to imagine your own bedding on it, of course, but I promise you, as soon as you lie down you don’t want to stand up again ever.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Tao whispers empathically.
Charlie loves his friends. And he hates that it’s always him that causes them to worry. How will he ever repay them for their kindness?
Elle rolls her eyes.
Tao pulls his beanie down over his face.
Charlie sighs. “I’ve said that out loud, haven’t I?”
He does this sometimes.
He is confused like that sometimes.
“Never mind,” Elle says and leads him around the end of the bed to push him down to sit on the edge. “Lie down. Feel the magic.”
Charlie lies down, his feet heavy on the floor.
“Not like this, you idiot! Do it right.” Unceremoniously, Tao takes Charlie under his armpits and hauls him up the bed. Elle lifts his feet so that he lies straight on his back.
On the verge of clear protest against being treated like a baby, Charlie holds still for a moment, because something doesn’t feel right. And then it does. It feels right. And heavenly. Charlie wiggles a bit, then stretches and sighs again. In pleasure this time. He closes his eyes, all the muscles in his body getting heavy and mellow.
“See,” he hears Elle say, but it sounds very far away. Without thinking about it, Charlie turns on his belly. He is floating. “The magic is already working.”
///
Tara stops abruptly, causing Nick to bump into her. He hisses. The sudden movement has made the pain shoot right through him. His muscles are so tense, he is convinced someone could use him to grind flour.
“Sorry, Nick, but shitty shit.”
Nick, curious what makes his decidedly non-sweary friend swear, looks around the second floor of the shop, which is pretty empty this late in the evening. His gaze comes to rest upon a rather tall and lean couple at the other end, looking down on the bed in the corner that is as good as hidden from public view by a cleverly positioned shelf.
Guessing what might be the problem, Nick says: “It doesn’t matter. We’ll simply look for an alternative.”
“No!”
They flinch together. Tara’s reaction has surprised them both. Usually very well-balanced and forgiving, the woman now looks ready to get on a warrior path. It suits her, but is a bit scary. And well, is this really necessary?
Tara makes a sheepish expression, but she seems determined. “It must be this bed. They will just have to go.”
“Okay.” Nick hasn’t the strength to resist. So he follows her nervously.
Tara lifts her chin when they reach the couple and come to stand on the other side of the bed, Nick one step behind Tara.
The woman greets them with a smile. The man scowls so heavily it makes Nick shuffle his feet awkwardly. Tara grabs him at the front of his shirt and pulls him beside her.
“Hello,” Tara says in an upbeat voice.
“Hello,” says the woman. She has pretty curls pulled into a complicated bun and warm eyes behind golden frames. “I am sorry if you wanted to buy this bed, but I am afraid it’s already taken.”
Quite literally, Nick notices, as he looks down on it, taking in a slender form in jeans short and a fluffy sweater. Strange combination, he thinks. It’s hot outside so the shorts make sense, but the sweater? The person’s head is buried under a pillow. At first glance, the figure could be taken for a puppet, but then Nick sees a slow movement of the back. It is breathing.
“My friend here has been struggling with his sleep for such a long time now, and it seems we have finally found a remedy. It would be cruel to take that away from him. I am sure you understand. Maybe we can ask if they’ve got another one?”
Tara shakes her head. “They haven’t. We’ve been here on the weekend to find the perfect bed and asked because my friend Nick here had no time to check it out earlier. He always has so many physiotherapy and doctor’s appointments during the week.” She intones the next words slowly and very clearly. “Because of his severe back injury. He needs this bed. It ticks every single box on his list of requirements.”
Nick cringes. This is embarrassing. He doesn’t want to use his back pain to pilfer any advantages out of pity.
He shouldn’t have worried.
“Then you should have made a reservation,” the Asian looking man says. “We’ve been here first. This is our bed now.”
Nick senses how Tara at his side tenses.
“I don’t see any sign that you’ve made a reservation yourself,” she says, looking around in an exaggerated manner.
Suddenly, a stranger’s voice, friendly, but kind of shrill, barges in. “Can I help you?”
All four of them wince.
The woman, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere, is blond, long-toothed and smiling so widely that Nick can feel a sympathy strain in his own cheekbones.
She swings her head expectantly between the two parties. For a second, nobody says anything, then all of them, save Nick, jump into explanations all at once.
“We need to buy this bed.”
“This is the last bed of its kind and it’s perfect for us.”
“We have been here first.”
“We would be willing to pay a bonus on top of the actual price.”
Nick is wondering if the body on the bed is a puppet after all, since it doesn’t stir at all despite the repressed shouting match above it.
The sales woman says: “Did any of you make a reservation?”
“We would have,” says Tara eagerly.
“But you didn’t,” the man called Tao says with malicious joy. He turns to the saleswoman. “We would like to make a reservation now, Mrs. …” He is looking for a name tag so obviously, it would have been funny if they weren’t on opposite sides.
Opposite sides?
Nick sighs inwardly. This is how fast wars get started. You stand next to two people in conflict and suddenly you must defend what you didn’t know was important to you only a minute ago.
“My name is Lorraine Larson. I am afraid it’s not possible to make a reservation for this bed anymore if there are two parties interested in it.” She looks a bit helpless.
“So, what do we do?” The woman next to Tao asks.
“I don’t know. I have never experienced such a situation before,” says Lorraine, and before Tao can repeat his offer of more money, she adds: “It’s a fixed price, too. We don’t bargain with our products. This is not a bazaar. I really must ask you kindly to find a solution between yourselves. Of course, I would very gladly show you some other beds. This is not the only one that—”
“No!” Tara and the woman with Tao shout as one. They scrunch up their faces simultaneously, and Nick gets the impression that, normally, the woman is no more a troublemaker than Tara is. She really must like whoever is lying in the bed and sleeping or, probably, pretending to sleep at this point.
“I am sorry, but no,” she repeats, her dark brown eyes huge and pleading behind her glasses. “We wouldn’t insist, but we need this bed. I mean look at him! Charlie is sleeping. Do you know how rare that is?”
Naturally, everyone is looking down at the sleeping man at the same time. Nick likes the t-shirt peeking out under the sweater. It is striped, white and light blue and doesn’t match the rainbow colours of the sweater at all. The wrists above the wristbands appear delicate and maybe a bit fragile, but that might be a delusion. Although the bone is visible under the smooth, tanned skin, there can be a lot of strength in it. Nick’s fingers tingle. Did he forget to take his medicine? Sometimes the nerves in his hands go a bit crazy due to the damage to his back.
Tara says: “I am sorry that … Charlie is his name?” The woman nods, and Tara continues: “Charlie has so much trouble sleeping, but Nick has been having serious back pains for over half a year now due to a sports accident. To heal he needs a mattress that supports his—”
“Tara, please.” Nick is cringing so badly now that he can’t stop himself from mumbling. “It’s not so important, is it? We can find another one. I am sure Mrs. Larson can show us some equally suitable beds.”
To his dismay, Tara ignores him and begins to fidget with her bag. She draws a stack of papers from it that looks a lot like medical files.
“I have spoken to his doctors, and they agree that the combination of the frame and the mattress is ideal for the nature of his injury, and I’ve talked to the company that produces them for additional confirmation. They stopped this product line. So you see why our need for this bed exceeds yours. I am sure you will be able to find another one for Charlie that helps him sleep.”
“No, we can’t, because we won’t,” says Tao, shooting his companion a fierce look, probably to keep her from giving in.
“But you must see that a physical injury takes precedence over a sleeping disorder,” says Tara, quite desperately now, but Nick can hear that she is wavering. “Nick, say something!”
He doesn’t. He can’t. He simply doesn’t have the energy. He wants to go home and lie down and, honestly, he doesn’t care where. He just wants peace. Fortunately, his chances to get out of this situation increase by the minute, when, suddenly, Tara makes a decision, pulls out her mobile and clicks a speed dial contact.
Oh no, she won’t.
But she does.
In a hushed tone, Tara speaks hastily for a moment with her back to the rest of them, then she gives him the phone with a guilty expression on her face. She knows exactly what she is doing.
A cheery voice greets him. “Nick! Nicholas! Nicky! Nicolino! Nickodemus!”
“Nick is quite alright,” he says.
Tara has called Darcy. He is doomed. Already, there is something in her undertone. This special kind of overjoyed aggression that Darcy can summon if her personal kind of crazy is required to achieve a goal that is unattainable for people with boundaries. Nick glares at Tara who stares determinedly at the feet of the sleeping man.
“What must I hear, Nick-Nack? Have I spent one of my very few free Saturdays with Tara to search for the perfect bed for you in vain? Why are you letting me down?”
“But I didn’t ask you to do that,” Nick replies weakly. He knows he is right, but the bad conscience he has is stronger. It doesn’t make sense. He should see someone to figure this out.
“It’s what friends do.” Darcy assures him threateningly. “And as our best friend you will prove now that you are no wimp and will fight for what you need.”
“But—”
“This is not the moment for one of your endless buts, mate. Look at Tara. Look at her. Do you see her?”
Automatically, Nick’s eyes fall on his best friend since elementary school. Tara senses his gaze and looks up. Her dark eyes are kind, but worried. Another but. Shit.
“Yeah.”
“Does she look happy?”
“Not really,” Nick admits.
“Ha. And do you know what I hate?”
“When she isn’t?”
“Correct on the first try.”
Nick huffs.
“And do you know what I need you to do for me now?” Darcy asks.
“Make her so?”
“You are much cleverer than you look, my favourite beefcake.”
Nick rolls his eyes.
“She is unhappy, because she is worried. She watches you being in pain for months now and it drains her. She is the most empathetic, caring person on earth, and it’s your damn duty to at least try everything in your power to get better. And if this means that you have to use your physical advantages to enforce your right on this fucking bed, you will. Do we have an understanding?”
Nick sighs.
“Nicholas. Do we have an understanding? Will you do everything in your power to get better and put the love of my life out of her funk, because her worrying about you interferes with my personal wellbeing?”
“Very altruistic of you.”
“I can be over there within the hour. I know someone who doesn’t give a fuck about speed limits.”
“Please don’t.” Nick says, not daring to even imagine what Darcy could add to this situation. Then he smiles a little despite it all. “We might need you in the future.”
“Get better, please. I am worrying, too.”
“I know that. Although your way of showing it is a bit daunting.”
“Love you.”
“Yeah, love you, too.”
Nick gives the phone back to Tara. Then he turns towards the tall, lanky couple. “I can’t let you have this bed, I am afraid.”
At once, Tao stands upright. He looks like a bow that has been bent into a straight line and is about to snap. “And what will you do about it?”
Nick knows this is mad and he refuses to think of what his mum would say if she saw him now, slipping out of his trainers and crawling onto the bed, cautiously to not jostle Charlie too much. He can’t help being considerate. He is Nick Nelson after all.
When he is lying on his back and looking up, he sees four faces above him, all with varying degrees of disbelief and a diversity of additional emotions.
Tara is astonished and proud.
Tao is astonished and furious.
His friend is astonished - and secretly amused?
Mrs. Larson is astonished and starting to get really indignant. She is looking at her watch, then at them again. “Listen,” she says, her voice getting shriller with every word. “I really must ask you to leave now. We are closing soon. Maybe if you, well, sleep over the whole thing, you will see that this isn’t the big problem to make it out to be.” She offers a feeble laugh over her word play, but gives up at once. “You can come back tomorrow and tell me all of your specific needs and I will show you some beds that will match your requirements perfectly. Promise.”
As if they had lessons in synchronised head shaking, Tao, his friend and Tara shake it in perfect, stubborn unison, which, honestly, looks so funny from below that Nick has to remind himself that this is a serious situation. He crosses his arms, which feels a bit awkward in his prone position. For a second, he catches the tall woman’s eyes and watches her bite her lip. She is definitely trying not to laugh, and Nick feels a half forgotten muscle in the left corner of his mouth twitch.
“Of course, this must happen when I am the last one here,” Lorraine Larson grumbles. Then she says loudly, trying to be adamant: “I must ask you to leave now.”
“Or else?” Tao asks, completely unaffected.
Poor Lorraine flusters. Nick sympathises with her, but one look at Tara helps him to fortify his resolve. He must stay strong for her. And for himself. He doesn’t want to know to what length Darcy would go to punish him if he disappoints her today. She is responsible for the fact that he has had to act as the most eligible bachelor on the elderly’s weekend dancing tea of her grandma twice, forced to spend three hours with the old biddies, just because he forgot to dress up for a motto party of hers. Not that he minded. Usually, Nick likes people, kids and old people especially. It’s just the constant pain that makes him a will-less, misanthropic, miserable grump.
“Today of all days,” Lorraine groans.
“What’s today that is so special?” Tao’s woman friend asks.
For approximately ten seconds, Lorraine fights an inner struggle. Then she says: “It’s the last round of the New Face - New Chance cosmetics competition tonight. The winner will get an apprenticeship in the hottest beauty parlour in town.”
“You want to quit selling beds?” Tao sounds betrayed somehow.
“This is a once in a life chance!” Lorraine exclaims and admits: “Beds have never been my calling.”
“When does it start?” Tara asks.
“At 8 pm. That’s why I must close up a bit earlier than usual.”
“Won’t your boss have anything to say to that?” Tao asks.
“He won’t know, will he?” Lorraine says a bit defiantly.
“If nobody tells her …” Tao says.
“Him,” Lorraine corrects. Then, horror appears on her face. “What do you mean?!”
Tao’s face adopts a scheming look. “I guess nobody will notice if two men spend the night here in the shop, if you are the first person to open it again tomorrow, right?”
Everyone standing is looking down on Nick and Charlie again.
Nick frowns.
Lorraine proves to be a faster thinker than him.
“They can’t possibly—” Lorraine starts, but Tao silences her with a strict hand held up high.
“They can and they will. It’s the only way to find out who will profit from this bed more.”
“Oh no, Tao!” Tao’s friend looks horrified.
“This is ridiculous!” Lorraine says.
Tara, too, looks flabbergasted.
“Do you really think so?” Tao muses and ignores them all. “Perhaps we should ask your boss what his thoughts are.”
Lorraine shuts her mouth with a smack. This beauty parlour event seems to be really important to her. Nick feels bad for her, but he won’t give in. He won’t give in. He won’t give in to another person’s needs. His own needs are valid. His own needs are valid. Also, he doesn’t want to run naked through the city and he isn’t sure that Darcy won’t make him if he doesn’t get it right this time. So he remains silent, hoping against hope that the others will come up with a different idea, but can only watch with growing distress as Tao and Tara - who is obviously willing to leave him here overnight! - stare Lorraine down, whereas Tao’s friend presses her lips together, somewhat uncertainly.
“Tao,” she says, “do you really think that is a good idea? Charlie is still rather—”
“He is fine.” Tao says. Then he amends: “He will be fine. I have known him for 18 of his 23 years. He will be okay. But he has to face some challenges to see that for himself.”
“And you think …”
“Yes, I do.”
She sighs. “Okay.”
With that, the woman takes Tao’s hand, and the soft smile that appears on the man’s features is nothing short of magic. Nick is amazed. Tao seems like a whole other person! He is definitely in love with her.
Nick is so distracted by the change in Tao’s demeanour that he notices quite late that all of them are distancing themselves from the bed, which means more precisely, from Charlie and him. Suddenly his heart is hammering like the one time he mistook a couple of painkillers with another sort and almost gave himself a heart attack.
“Tara,” he mouths, but not very loudly, since there is someone sleeping beside him and it still would be rude to wake him, but also because her apologetic gaze is on him the whole time she retreats with the others. It’s a bit hypnotising.
Nick can hear Lorraine complain about blackmail and bans and losing her job, but Tao’s low mumbles seem to grind any of her arguments to dust, while the four of them descend the stairs and leave Nick behind, who is, honestly, not processing what is happening right now.
This is a prank, right?
They can’t be serious.
Is Lorraine in on it?
Does Tara know Tao and his friend?
But then the lights go out except for the emergency lighting. Nick listens to a key being turned and a small beep that might have been an alarm system. And then he is alone. Well, almost alone, with the exception of a stranger who has no idea what his friends have gotten him into. Who has a remarkable deep sleep, because Nick has given up on the idea of this Charlie person faking it. Who would fake being asleep when your friends abandon you to a night spent in a bed shop with someone you don’t know?
Nick lies straight as an arrow for quite some time, staring at the ceiling, from where clouds made of papier mâché are hanging, pondering the possibility that he, again, has swapped his pain medication by accident, and all of this might just be a hallucination (he really must have words with his doctor), when a small sniffling noise comes from his right. Nick can feel his own eyes widen far too much.
There is a minimal movement at his side. The pillow lifts a bit, the mattress juggles slightly, and then very dark curls appear as the man unburies his head. Even from the back of it, it is obvious that he has difficulties getting his bearings. So Nick does what anyone with a basic understanding of good manners would do when faced with someone who doesn’t know where he is and with whom.
“Don’t worry, you are in Heaven ,” he says quietly. “I am Nick.” The dark head jerks up, and Nick meets Charlie’s eyes for the first time, glimmering enigmatically in the dim light. Nick swallows. “Hi.”