5. Silence

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Their breathing was still synchronised but gradually finding regularity, bodies still entwined, the room full of soft yellow sunlight.

Nick and Charlie did not need words to express how unwarranted their worries had been. It had not been worse. It had not been better. It had been different -- but exactly as wonderful as the first first time.

Their eyes met from across the pillows and Nick saw the unshed tears glimmering in Charlie's eyes, felt them prickle in his own. Charlie giggled softly, one tear running down his cheek, his curls tickling Nick's face as he moved.

Nick reached out a hand to pull at a curl, then watched, awestruck, as it bounced back into place. Charlie touched Nick's cheek so tenderly, a few tears ran into his fingertips. Charlie dabbed them away, then moved to trace his fingers over every inch of Nick's face, his cheek, his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his chin... Nick didn't know what Charlie saw there but he did know he loved this boy, more than he'd ever expected to love anyone in his life.

Their lips had barely brushed again when they heard the front door click shut. Nick and Charlie broke their kiss prematurely, wide eyed and bright red again.

"Shit," Charlie gasped. "Oh my god --"

"Quick!" Nick rolled off the bed.

Charlie scrambled after him and joined the search for their clothes. "Where the fuck are my --? Oh, here's yours."

He chucked Nick his pants and continued to scour the floor for his own.

Once they had both located the rest of their clothes, sadly donned them again, Nick disposed of the rubbish, including the wet wipes they had used for ease ("This was the best idea you've ever had.") and Charlie threw the towel ("You are a genius.") into the wash. After a final sweep of the room, making sure no residual evidence was left behind, the boys hurtled down the stairs to greet the other Springs.

"Look what I have!" Oliver exclaimed when Nick and Charlie stepped into the living room. "It's waterproof!"

He brandished a brand-new blue camping rucksack in their faces. An assortment of other items were spread out around him on the carpet.

"Wow!" said Nick, amused. "That's pretty cool."

Oliver gave him a big hug around the middle, then went back to his things.

"Hello to you too," said Charlie, since his brother had ignored him entirely. "Where's dad?"

"He had to abandon us halfway through our search," Jane explained. "Work called him in last minute. Where's your sister?"

"She went to Becky's I think..." Charlie forced himself not to look at Nick as they both sat down on the sofa. He turned to Oliver in an attempt to cover up his flusteredness. "You got everything on your list then?"

Oliver had been diligently going over and over his little check list with felt tip pens ever since he'd received it. He picked up the list again now, frowning. "Almost."

Jane sighed from the armchair. She looked tired and frazzled. She always had hated shopping. "We didn't manage to find a sleeping bag like the one on the list. I don't know how they expect people to just go and find exactly what they say. How are we supposed to know where to look?"

"Mummy, we still have four days," said Oliver. "We can find one by then if we try really hard."

Jane did not look pleased at the prospect of spending more time hurrying around town, looking for something that might not even get used more than once.

"Um, well, I might have one he can borrow," said Nick.

Jane blinked at him. She was always a bit odd around Nick, even now. His presence still seemed to baffle her sometimes. She was still getting used to trusting him. And he was still getting used to trusting her -- he would never forget what she had done, how she had hurt Charlie worse than almost anyone.

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