A Collection of Heartstopper Oneshots

Last Hope - 7ate9

Summary:

Nick looked out again at the assembled crowd. Immediately, he saw one head above the others, that familiar olive-toned skin and those wild dark curls. He needed to try, just one last time, to fix this. He didn't care that it meant everyone would know. He didn't care that he'd essentially be outing himself. He didn't care about any of it. Nick's decision was made. He turned and tossed the ball to Coach Singh, rugby match be damned.

Everyone was going to know.

Nick didn't care. Let them all know. Let everyone know how he felt. Just as long as Charlie knew it, too.
Notes:

was rewatching the n/c scenes (as i often do) and bc i love public declarations and public drama (in writing not irl) i wrote this also been a hot minute since i wrote a fic for the screw it series so here we are ig
Work Text:
Nick was half-tempted to go home early. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go curl up in bed with Nellie and a movie, pretend that the last three weeks hadn't happened, pretend that he still had Charlie. But he needed to stay, and not just because his grade depended on it. He needed to be here, for himself, and on the off-chance that Charlie saw him again and decided to give them another chance. Nick wasn't holding his breath, but he was desperate all the same.

So, he ran out behind Coach Singh with the rugby ball tucked to his chest. He looked out at the sea of students, keeping an eye on the ones wearing red. But he couldn't find the familiar lithe frame or dark curls. Charlie wasn't there. And just like that, the last hope slipped from his grasp.

He looked out at the students one more time, hoping and hoping that maybe he missed him. Charlie had to be there. He had to be there to support Nick, to cheer him on, because they liked each other. Because they were boyfriends.

Or, at least, they used to be. Before Nick went and mucked it up.

"Nick," Coach Singh called, "let's go!"

Nick sighed and gave up. Charlie wasn't his anymore. Maybe he never was in the first place. With slumped shoulders, Nick dropped the ball to kick it and started the match.

Even without his usual spirit, he still managed the first try of the match. He was honestly a bit surprised given how poorly he felt. He was distracted by heartache and misery, but he touched the ball to the ground across the try line. The students watching erupted in cheers. Nick tried to feel his usual happiness, the usual high of success. He felt nothing.

He fell back into place, ball in hand. Maybe because he hated himself, maybe because he still had a bit of hope, maybe because he just wanted to drive home that this thing with Charlie was really over, Nick looked out again at the assembled crowd. Immediately, he saw one head above the others, that familiar olive-toned skin and those wild dark curls. The sun shone across his skin, light in his curls, making him glow. In the early-noon light, Charlie looked ethereal.

Nick needed him. He needed to try, just one last time, to fix his mistakes. He didn't care that it meant everyone would know. He didn't care that he'd essentially be outing himself. He didn't care about any of it. He needed Charlie to know that this wasn't a mistake. He needed Charlie to forgive him. More than anything, he needed Charlie to forgive himself. Nick wouldn't mind never seeing Charlie again if he was at least able to remove the weight from his shoulders.

(That was a lie. He would ache with it every single day for the rest of his life. He needed Charlie like he needed breathing, but if it made Charlie feel better, then it was a sacrifice Nick was willing to take. He'd let him go, if only it meant Charlie was happier than he was by Nick's side.)

Nick's decision was made. He turned and tossed the ball to Coach Singh, rugby match be damned. From here, he couldn't quite tell what was going through Charlie's head, couldn't make out the features of his face, but he could imagine. He could see in his mind's eye the way he would squint at Nick in confusion, in shock, in wonder.

Nick walked, for the first time in a long time, with a purpose. He stomped off the pitch, right up to the edge of the crowd that parted for Nick like the Red Sea. He didn't stop until he got to the stacked mats on which Charlie stood, far enough away to give him room for whatever he'd do next.

Slowly, Charlie stepped off his platform, until he was just a foot away from Nick.

Nick was already breathless, terrified, his hands shaking as he observed Charlie's face, the confusion, the shock, the wonder.

Everyone was going to know.

Nick didn't care. Let them all know. Let everyone know how he felt. Just as long as Charlie knew it, too.

"Hi," Nick finally said.

The corners of Charlie's mouth ticked up, so slightly, but it was there. "Hi."

Nick swallowed heavily. "I don't–" He took a deep breath. "Charlie, nothing is better than having you in my life. I don't care if you just want us to be friends, I can't–I can't do this without you. I mean, if you don't want that, I'd understand, and I'd respect that completely. But... I don't think that's what you really want. Is it?"

Charlie sighed. "Nick... all of this is a mistake–"

"It's not, though," Nick argued, too loudly. "It's not for me. For the first time in my life, everything is clear. I know who I want to be and who I want to be with. And if you want to break up, I understand, and I get it, and I won't argue with you. But if you think that it's going to undo everything, you're wrong. I'd rather have no one than have dicks for friends. I just wish it didn't take me so long to figure that out."

Charlie looked conflicted. Nick said carefully, "You're the best person I've ever known. You're so amazing, Char, and being with you is the best thing I've ever had. I don't remember the last time I was this happy. You make me so, so happy, Charlie. I want to make you happy, too."

"You do make me happy," Charlie said quietly.

"So let's forget everything else," Nick said, desperate. "Let's forget all the bullshit and just be us. Let's just make each other happy and figure the rest out together. If... if you want that."

Charlie smiled. His face lit up as he giggled, and he reached for Nick. Nick gleefully met him in the middle, their lips crashing together for a fierce kiss. Nick's senses were overwhelmed, hands finding purchase on Charlie's waist while another pair found a home in his hair and on his neck. He could smell, taste, feel Charlie, eyes shutting to absorb it all. His ears were hit with a cacophony of noise, students shouting in surprise and cheers. He could imagine the word spreading to those who couldn't see, but he didn't care. He had Charlie here, holding him, kissing him, so nothing else mattered.

Charlie sighed, pulling away with a grin. "I cannot believe you did that in front of the entire student body."

Nick beamed back at him. "It was the only thing I could do. And, besides, if the option is having you and coming out or losing you and staying in the closet, I choose you, everyday, all the time, without another thought."

Charlie shook his head fondly. "Nick, you know, the doors are unlocked. We could've easily gone into the school for privacy."

Nick blinked at him, then looked past his shoulder at the building. "Oh."

Charlie laughed and brought Nick into another kiss. Nick returned it eagerly.

A part of him could admit he was afraid, but a bigger part of him was just relieved. All of him, though, was hopeful. He was so, so excited for what tomorrow held. After all, his tomorrow had Charlie. And for Nick, that was enough.