AN: thought this chapter of this story was adorable (and hit the feelings) and wanted to share.
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Chapter 4: Nick
Summary:
Nick's ability to pretend stopped later that day in the Louvre
Notes:
Tw: brief mentions of an eating disorder.
Chapter Text
Nick has a fondness for dark haired boys. He remembers his Dr. Who/David Tennent crush with some fond embarrassment. How could his mom had not seen? Then there was BBC Sherlock — not so much Benedict Cumberbatch as his straight-haired self, but him as Sherlock, with those curls, so much like Charlie's.
He envied BBC Sherlock for his ability to read everything about a person from a limp, a cell phone, a spot of ketchup on a shirt sleeve. He felt like he knew Charlie better than anyone on earth at this point, but he also was aware that still meant he didn't know Charlie very well at all.
Nick had gotten to know what he secretly called "the real Charlie" of course. Funny, brave, smart, with a mischievous teasing smile. . . That was boyfriend Charlie.
But there was the other Charlie, the secret Charlie. Sometimes Nick felt no closer to knowing him than he did in form that winter, before Harry's party changed everything, when Charlie would come in late, rumpled from a what Nick knew now was a secret meet up, but hurting and quiet from some bruising interaction with Ben.
Other than that once in form, Nick never saw real bruises. He'd asked, several times, if Ben had "been like that" before. Charlie's "what? Of course not." answer had felt like a lie but he didn't press it.
Nick had seen Charlie lie with enough skill that even Nick doubted the truth. The "he's not even my type" at the cinema still stung, even though Nick knew Charlie was protecting him.
"I feel a little sick. I'm not very hungry this morning," Charlie was saying. It was breakfast in the Paris hotel and Nick had gone back for his second plate.
This boy would lie to my face Nick thought uncomfortably. Not to hurt Nick, never to hurt him, but to protect him.
What could Charlie be protecting him from by lying about his food?
Secret Charlie scared Nick. There was something deep and unknowable about him, a hurt that Charlie kept locked so tight that Nick didn't even know how to ask about it. It was like staring into the dark and being told it was noon — the contradiction so there and so obvious that it seemed almost like bad manners to point it out. The only thing he could do was to follow what Charlie clearly wanted him to do and pretend it wasn't there. For now.
Nick's ability to pretend stopped later that day in the Louvre. It was slow motion: Charlie's voice, strange, distant, confused. And then his knees were giving out and he was in Nick's arms and Nick had held him so many times, but not like this, not limp and lifeless and pulled down to the floor by his own dead weight.
Nick's brain screamed "He's dying" even as Nick checked Charlie's neck quickly and was reassured to see movement there.
"Get Mr. Farouk!" he yelled. And Nick willed himself to breathe in time with the movements of Charlie's chest. It wouldn't be a good thing for him to be panicking when Charlie woke up.
His eyes were fluttering a little. He was muttering. This was good. This was good. Charlie was coming back.
His eyes started to open.
Nick had never been so relieved to see Charlie's blue eyes.
He's okay.
He's okay.
He repeated this to himself over and over, hoping to let his racing heart understand this.
"Waa- what happened?"
"You just passed out," Nick said, trying not to let Charlie hear panic.
Mr.Aijayi and Mr. Farouk were approaching, Darcy chattered idly about the time she passed out in the heat, and Charlie lay half on the floor, half propped up by Nick. Nick took a moment to bury his head in Charlie's curls and press a kiss to his head.
It was his real Charlie in his arms, the boy he liked so much that sometimes he felt he could burst with all that he was feeling. He loved him. He wanted to say it, he'd been wanting to say it for a while now, but held back, afraid he might be pushing too fast.
There wasn't a real Charlie or a secret Charlie. There was just Charlie, curled around his hurt and darkness like a prey animal would protect its soft belly. If Nick ever wanted the real real Charlie, then he needed to understand all of it.
As Nick held a water bottle to steady it as Charlie drank with his shaking hands, Nick knew that he couldn't pretend any more.
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A Collection of Heartstopper Oneshots
FanfictionThese are NOT my oneshots!! The amazing authors on AO3 has written and created these wonderful little stories about one of my favorite fictional couples of all time. I wanted to share them with you all and spread the feelings inducing love that Nic...
