Work Text:
“Can I learn?”
The silence has been stretching on- this shift of nurses being of particularly few words he has noticed- and Nick wonders if she has even remembered he is there as she busies herself with temperatures and machines and noting things on a clipboard. The armchair he has been dismissed to feels sticky and rubbery, he shut out the cool autumn air at Charlie’s request as soon as he arrived, and he has been running his palms nervously along the seat next to his thighs as he watches her work. Now, she has a bag of the milky white fluid that they have both become acquainted with recently in her hands and Nick recognises the shadow of discomfort cross Charlie’s face at the sight of it.
The nurse arches an eyebrow at him but it is Charlie’s wide eyes he focusses on; seeking permission in the flicking change of his expression. He looks too small in the bed, Nick has been kicked off of the mattress every time a nurse enters to give them space to work, and he is bunched up on one edge with his knees tucked in awkwardly. Nick feels a pang every time he is made to get off of the bed, to let Charlie’s fingers slip through his as he leaves him huddled in the blankets. This time, he had been kissing his way along the sore skin on Charlie’s cheek, the irritated stretch where they had left his feeding tube on one side for too long and the plaster that held it down had begun to aggravate. Charlie swears it’s fine, that he doesn’t want a fuss and it’s a small price to pay, but Nick feels every sliver of his boyfriend’s discomfort chafe against him until he feels raw too. The nurses prod and pull and are kind and perfunctory but Charlie winces whenever they come near him and Nick is left feeling useless. Finally, Charlie nods and the nurse sighs and Nick creeps over to watch.
She shows him how to check the Ph before flushing the line, warns him of the importance of making sure it hasn’t shifted from his stomach with too much movement. She demonstrates the clicks and twists that will make sure the seal is tight, then, the right angle to hook the bag so that the flow doesn’t overwhelm his boyfriend’s stomach. He meets Charlie’s eye every few moments and every time he is staring with rapt attention back at him.
“This okay?” he whispers when the nurse nods at the way he has hung the bag and hurries out of the room. The liquid inside smells putrid and Nick has to concentrate on keeping his features neutral.
“Thank you.” Charlie’s reply is so quiet that he can barely hear him over the beeps and general hubbub of the hospital room. He can’t bring himself to say you’re welcome, as if taking care of him is something that he is choosing instead of needing to do. Instead, he crosses back over to the other side of the bed, squeezing Charlie’s toes as he goes, and tucks himself back down on to the mattress next to him. It’s tight- Charlie might not be taking up much room but Nick is not built for the junior ward anymore- but they have become practised in making the space work for them these past couple of weeks. Nicks face instantly falls to Charlie’s curls, his lips pressing firm against him.
“I love you,” he murmurs, and Charlie pulls his arms tighter around him.