Can I...? - 7ate9

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Summary:

Instead of walking off from the pitch on Sports Day, they kiss. That's it, that's the fic.
Notes:

everyone at Truham is absolutely bonkers for thinking that moment at sports Day was not nick coming out so here it is, undeniable
(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:
If anyone asked Nick what he was thinking, he wouldn't quite know what to tell them. He knew exactly what the answer was, but the question was whether he could admit it to anyone else.

The match was going... fine. To be fair, it had only been going for about one minute, but already Nick barely knew what was happening. In all his life, the pitch had been the one place that could fully absolve him of anything, of guilt, of anger, of misery, of pain. But ever since he and Charlie broke up, that feeling was gone. Now, he was just numb. Rugby didn't help. Nothing helped. Nothing would help. Not until he and Charlie made up. And the longer it took for that to happen, well... Nick wasn't sure it was going to happen at all anymore.

He carried the ball back with him, jogging back up the pitch for the kick. He scanned the crowd, because he needed to see, to make sure. And there, one head above the others. Dark curly hair haloed by the glow of sunlight, warm skin shining in the spring.

Charlie.

In that moment, Nick wondered why. Why had he hidden, why had he cared, why had he ever stopped himself from doing the one thing he wanted to do more than anything? He wanted to kiss Charlie. He wanted to hold his hand and not care who saw. He wanted to call him his boyfriend, wanted to walk him to his classes and sit with him at lunch. He wanted to be the cheesy couple everyone sort of hated. He wanted to be with Charlie, whatever that meant.

So, Nick gave up. He gave up the hiding, the caring, the pretending. He gave up trying to make believe that he didn't want it all. He turned and tossed the ball in Coach Singh's direction, and he marched towards Charlie. He started jogging, running towards him, hoping, praying, believing.

He slowed at the stack of mats upon which Charlie was perched. He was strangely breathless. Maybe Charlie just made him feel that way.

Charlie stepped down from the mats, just a few inches from Nick now. All eyes were on them. All eyes on the two of them. If Nick was going to give his boy a fairy tale ending, now was the time.

Carefully, with trembling fingers, Nick reached out and took hold of Charlie's hand. Charlie looked down at where their fingers twined together, palms pressed against each other.

Let lips do as hands do, and all that, Nick thought to himself. He took a minuscule step forward and raised his other hand, cupping Charlie's face.

"Can I...?"

Charlie glanced around. "But... everyone will know."

"I don't care," Nick answered easily. And he found it to be true with everything in him. "I don't care who knows. The only person I need to know is you. Everyone else can think whatever they want. You're the only person whose opinion I need."

Charlie gave him a small smile, a blush rising to his cheeks. He looked beautiful like this, slightly pink and shy, skin glowing gold, that halo of sunshine still twined through his thick curls.

"Can I?" Nick repeated. Charlie gave him a nod. Nick released a breath and took another slight step forward, closer, closer to Charlie. Always, always closer to Charlie.

Their lips met in a slow but chaste kiss, warmed from the sun and from each other. Nick's head was buzzing with the sound of gasps and murmurs all around them. It made Nick want to run, but he pushed it all away, instead just focusing on the here and now. He deepened the kiss, tilting his head and parting his lips slightly. Charlie's hand found a home on his hip, fisting the fabric of his bib.

Nick put an end to the kiss before any authoritative figure could come and break it up, or worse, scold them for the display. Instead, he rested their foreheads together, eyes closed, basking in this moment.

"I want to be with you," he said quietly, so quiet he was sure the words would stay between only the two of them. "I like you so much, Charlie. You're my favorite person, and you make me a better person. I don't want to lose you just because I made a stupid mistake the other night."

Charlie shook his head and leaned back so he could look Nick in the eye. "Nick, I don't want to get between you and your friends–"

"They're not my friends, Charlie," Nick insisted, louder. "I don't want to be friends with those people anymore. They're cruel to you, and to everyone, and I don't want to be around people like that. Even if we break up, that's not going to change anything."

Charlie chewed his lip. Oddly, Nick wished he could do the same thing. "Promise?"

"I promise, Char." He rested their foreheads together again, relieved that they seemed to be back on the same page.

"I'm sorry," Charlie muttered. "I should've talked to you. I just got scared."

"You know you're not allowed to say that word," Nick chastised with a growing smile.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous."

Nick grinned. "Yeah, but I'm yours."

Charlie ducked his head, cheeks going pink again. When he lifted his gaze back to Nick's, he looked resolute. "You should go and finish the match. And we'll talk about this more later."

Nick nodded. "Okay." He pressed one last excited kiss to Charlie's smiling lips, then turned and ran back to the pitch. He ignored the incredulous looks of his teammates and classmates. He ignored the potential for repercussions and the inevitable disaster brewing from what he'd done. He just kept his eyes on the grassy pitch glowing under the sunny sky until he approached Coach Singh. She looked a mix between amused, surprised, and vaguely pissed off. Nick thought maybe he also saw pride in her face as she looked at him.

"Any more surprises, Nick?" She asked him.

Nick shook his head. "No, miss."

"Alright, then." She nodded and called for the team to resume the match, then threw him the ball.

Notes:

tell me your thoughts!

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