A Collection of Heartstopper Oneshots

a promise of hope (is enough to feel free) - melioristish

Summary:

Charlie sat on the bed behind them and began picking at his nails – a nervous tic that Nick could read all too well after three years together. "I'm sorry, I should've told you I was coming. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just... I didn't know where else to go."

(Or: Charlie has an argument with his mum and visits Nick at uni, where he finds comfort and reassurance.)
Notes:

Hi everyone! I've been an avid fan of Heartstopper and hurt/comfort fics for years, so I thought I'd give writing my own a try. I hope you enjoy it!

TW: References of past mental health issues and recovery (not graphic)

Title is from "Ready Now" by dodie
Work Text:
Nick had just turned on his laptop when the doorbell rang.

He sighed heavily. He did not feel like moving, his muscles still sore from an intense rugby practice earlier in the day. And with a midterm paper due tomorrow that he had barely started, the last thing he wanted was a distraction. He briefly considered ignoring the sound.

But the doorbell rang again, more insistent this time, and he groaned, rubbing his face.

"Coming!" he called out, hoping it would be a quick visit.

He flung the door open in frustration, only to find Charlie – his Charlie – standing awkwardly in the doorway. Nick blinked, wondering if his exhaustion and constant yearning had conspired to create this strange hallucination. It wouldn't be the first time he'd daydreamed about Charlie – holding hands at their favorite coffee shop in Leeds, cuddling in his twin bed that barely fit one of them, excitedly undressing each... okay, now he was getting carried away. Still, Charlie wasn't supposed to visit for another week.

"Charlie?" he whispered incredulously.

"Hi. Um, surprise?" Charlie replied, adding a half-hearted attempt at jazz hands.

"Oh my God, Charlie!" Nick's face lit up with a dazzling grin as he realized this was real, that Charlie was actually here. Without hesitation, he pulled Charlie in and quickly shut the door behind them.

But his grin faded as Charlie sat on the bed behind them and began picking at his nails – a nervous tic that Nick could read all too well after three years together. "I'm sorry, I should've told you I was coming. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I just... I didn't know where else to go."

Nick gently cupped Charlie's cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Oi. No s-word. I've missed you so much, and I'm always happy to see you. Besides, my day just got a whole lot better now that I get to do this." He began to pepper kisses along Charlie's neck, cheek, and temple – kissing Charlie was his absolute favorite thing in the world. Charlie giggled.

But as Nick took a closer look at Charlie, his brows knit together in concern. It wasn't that Charlie wasn't as beautiful as always – he was – but he looked... unmoored was the only word that came to Nick's mind. His usually meticulous curls were frizzy, his eyes red and bloodshot, and he was trembling slightly – almost imperceptibly, unless you were as close to him as Nick was. It seemed as though Charlie was once again consumed by the darkness in his mind in a way Nick hadn't seen often since the hospital, the weekly therapy sessions, and Charlie's astoundingly brave journey toward recovery. For a brief moment, Nick wondered if Charlie had relapsed, a thought that made his stomach churn.

Nick quickly pushed that thought aside. He spoke to Charlie every day and knew he was doing well – preparing for his A-Levels, having weekly movie nights with Tao, and searching for colleges to attend next year. There were no signs of a relapse, and Nick knew Charlie would want him to trust in his ability to manage his mental health. But he knew something was wrong.