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The house was dark and silent by the time Charlie got home from work. There was still a light on in the entry way, making sure Charlie could properly see when he got in. The dog’s bowls were refreshed, food given and both of them were sleeping comfortably in the living room. Charlie made sure to give them both pets before heading upstairs.
“Good job guys,” he said softly. They were always so intuitive when one of them was having issues. They’d sit in Charlie’s lap when he was sad, give him kisses until otherwise. And when Nick needed space, they’d give him that too. Never crying or begging when attention couldn’t be given to them for obvious reasons.
Charlie made his way carefully up the stairs, walking to their door, which was only slightly ajar, a sign that Nick was at least welcome to his visit. He pushed open the door carefully, avoiding putting as much light in the room as possible. Their black out curtains were drawn but even in complete darkness Charlie knew the way and soon found himself standing at the edge of their bed.
He could see Nick, laying perfectly on his back, a weighted eyemask over his eyes and the smell of mint surrounding him. Nick had been able to change from his work clothing, already wearing his threadbare gym shorts and a soft cotton shirt that definitely had seen better days. Charlie didn’t touch him, or speak, but made his way to their wardrobe and pulled out his own soft clothing items. He was used to this, changing quietly in the dark, making sure his husband wasn’t disturbed.
He wasn’t sure if Nick was sleeping, sometimes when the migraines were sudden he couldn’t sleep at all. Instead he’d just lay there, awake but eyes squeezed shut, in too much pain to move. According to the text Charlie got an hour ago, the migraine started around lunch and despite Nick’s best efforts to thwart it with medication, he was heading home from work only an hour later.
The migraines weren’t new, but over the last few years they’d gone down in frequency. When it first started happening, it scared both of them so badly, he rushed Nick to the A&E certain he was about to watch his boyfriend die. He’d never seen Nick in so much pain he couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t speak and every time he moved, he vomited. After several tests and scans, the verdict was simple, sudden onset migraine in an adult. The reasoning, everyone had said, was varied but none of Nick’s other blood work indicated a problem.
The only pattern they noticed was they happened more frequently if Nick was stressed out. But today’s migraine seemingly had no trigger. Everything, as far as Charlie knew, was completely fine in the Spring-Nelson household. Nick’s job was fantastic, he taught Year 2’s and coached rugby on the side, Charlie was working as an editor, and recently had gotten a promotion and pay bump. They had started talking about adoption but Nick hadn’t seemed stressed about it at all, but so excited he nearly burst into tears when they talked about it.
All in all, it was just random. Which to Charlie, somehow made it much worse. It was easier to help when he knew the cause, when they could just talk it out and he could hold his husband and reassure him things were going to be alright. It sometimes made Charlie’s anxiety trigger when he didn’t know just how to fix things but his coping methods now were much safer and easier to handle.
Once Charlie was dressed, he came back to the side of the bed. He really didn’t want to disturbed Nick, but he needed to check if Nick wanted another round of pills. He’d been keeping track of the time when Nick notified him of the first one and it was about time for another.
“Nicky,” Charlie said softly, avoiding touching him. Sometimes Nick couldn’t even stand the touch of anything, Charlie included. “Baby, do you need more pills?”
Nick stirred ever so, bringing his hand up and pushing the eye mask off, relieving eyes open only a fraction. It was more than enough for Charlie to understand. Charlie got his pills and water, already on the bed side table. It was a bit of a struggle for Nick to take and drink, he dribbled a little onto his chin but didn’t make the effort to wipe it off.
“Do you need anything else?” Charlie asked, keeping his voice soft and low.
“Alone,” Nick answered.
This was not an abnormal request, sometimes even if he was feeling better he needed space. Charlie knew how that felt too, how suffocating even the person you love beyond words could be when you just don’t feel well. “Sure, where do you want me to go?”
“Sit, no touch?.”
Charlie obliged, sitting up against the head board, far enough from Nick. He saw his husband roll back onto his back, the mask in place once more. The house remained dark and quiet, Charlie didn’t have a thing to do, so he tipped his head back, eyes closed. A few minutes passed and Nick held his hand out, wordlessly asking for Charlie to rub. He did so, digging his fingers into Nick’s hand with the pressure he knew Nick liked the best. His hands started to ache a little, but he kept going.
It didn’t take long before Nick lifted the mask again, this time taking it off completely and dropping it onto the floor. “Hi,” he said softly, his eyes shining in the light, just barely.
“Hi.”
“Cuddle?”
“Yes,” Charlie answered, slinking down in bed and extending his arm. Nick rolled into him, using his chest as a pillow, arms wrapped around Charlie the best he could. Charlie had one hand cradling Nick’s head, the other wrapped around holding his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Nick said, his forehead against Charlie’s collarbone. “Sorry for the trouble.”
“Hush,” Charlie said, glad Nick was at least able to talk a bit. Things were getting better when he used full sentences. “It’s been what, thirty years? You should know the rules by now.”
Nick huffed. “It’s been fourteen years,” he corrected. “And you do it all the time too.”
“Which doesn’t mean you can go around doing it, jeez. You know the rules don’t actually apply to me, right?”
“How’s that even fair?” Nick asked, his body squeezing onto Charlie even more, like he wanted to absorb Charlie into his body. He wasn’t sure what it meant that he would willingly agree to that in a heartbeat.
“All fair in love and war,” Charlie answered and Nick let out a huff of a laugh. They remained silent for a bit longer, the more relaxed Nick got the heavier he was but Charlie still didn’t mind. He slowly ran what hand he could through Nick’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, the way he knew Nick liked. If his husband was a cat, Charlie had no doubts he’d be purring right now.
Charlie’s stomach rumbled a bit, it was getting closer to dinner but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to move until the dogs needed to go out or Nick wanted him to. “If you’re hungry go eat,” Nick said, when his stomach rumbled again.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“No, you’re hungry.”
“And you’re feeling ill, so that trumps hunger cues.”
His eating disorder history was long and complicated, but at this point in his life, eating a bit later than normal wasn’t a big deal. He was thankful that Nick both knew and understood that. It had taken them a while to find the perfect amount of give and take when it came to each other. It was almost amusing sometimes, they both wanted the same thing: Nick wanted to take care of Charlie and Charlie wanted to take care of Nick. But at the same time, they were both stubborn in their own ways and a bit damaged too, so sometimes “help” looked more like “thinking the other can’t take it”.
With a lot of therapy and open communication, those things slowly changed. Charlie stopped hearing “you’re weak and fragile” and instead understood it as, “ I love you and want to keep you safe and happy” and Nick stopped hearing “your struggles will just make me struggle” and instead knew it meant “you’re just as important to me as I am to you”.
Charlie was able to help Nick and Nick was able to accept his help without worrying too much. Sure, he worried but he also accepted Charlie’s answers. It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but it was what worked for them.
“What if I want to eat too?” Nick asked and Charlie grinned. If he was sassing back this much, he might want to.
“Would you like cheese toasties, then?” They were Nick’s go to, I’m not feeling well foods. He could eat a cheese toastie in any condition. Charlie found them too greasy and too… much when he wasn’t well but he knew there was left over meatloaf he could heat up. Not quite their normal routine for dinner, but it will do.
“Of course.”
“You stay here,” Charlie instructed. “I’ll get them, do you want tea? Do you need a sports drink too?”
Nick hummed against his chest. “Yes to all of that and more.”
“Sure thing.”
It took another five whole minutes before Nick allowed him to get up and out of bed. But before he could properly leave, Nick grabbed his wrist. “I love you,” he said. “Thank you for knowing how to take care of me and stuff. Just you being here, checking in, it always makes me feel a lot better.”
“My god you sap,” Charlie said, turning so he could give Nick a kiss. “I’ll always be here for you. That’s what we do, right? We take care of each other.”
Charlie tried to leave again but Nick didn’t lessen his grip. “Didn’t say love you,” he grumbled.
“Oh my gooooood,” Charlie moaned, rolling his eyes, but full of nothing but love. “I love you, you coconut.”
“Coconut?” Nick asked, frowning a little, looking like a pouting toddler.
“Yes, you’re got a hard outer shell, but instead you’re made of white meat and you’re full of sweetness.”
Nick’s nose crunched up and he let go of Charlie’s wrist. “Ew, gross. You can leave now.”
Charlie snorted with laughter, leaning down and peppering Nick’s head with kisses. “Love you my special little coconut.”