7. Exposure

Sunlight poured through the open window, casting Charlie in soft yellow light. A warm breeze blew calmly through the room. Nick felt it ruffle the silky curls he had threaded between his fingers. Charlie's lips were velvet-soft as they parted Nick's. A tiny gasp escaped his mouth and Nick swallowed it.

Charlie's arms were wrapped around Nick's back, hands stroking steadily up and down over Nick's t-shirt. Everything was Charlie. His hair, his hands, his lips, his tongue, every breathy moan, the love and trust that poured between them through every touch, every kiss, every whispered word.

Their limbs wrapped around each other tighter still and they both tumbled over sideways onto soft grey covers. Nick landed carefully on top. Charlie giggled up at him through thick eyelashes and a make-out induced haze.

Nick bent his head to plant a feather-light kiss over those eyelashes.

A thunderous bang made the bed shake. A gunshot but magnified ten times.

Nick's lips kissed air.

He blinked.

His arms were empty.

Charlie was gone.

Nausea rose in his stomach.

A terrified whimper from under the bed.

Blood seeped rapidly across the floor.

So much blood.

Too much.

The boy under the bed was covered in it.

His hair, his hands, his lips.

A single tear streaked through the red on the still, white face.

A thin hand extended outward, as if, in his last moments, he had been reaching out to someone.

To Nick.

But he had not been there.

Nick could taste the blood in his own mouth as he stood there helplessly, watching the life and the colour drain out of Charlie Spring.

Distant music pounded several stories below, but the only music Nick was interested in was the laughter coming from Charlie Spring's mouth as he ran up the stairs after him.

"I'll race you!"

"To where?"

"Anywhere!"

Light danced along the endless, chandelier-dotted corridors. Nick glimpsed Charlie's wide, joyful smile for a tantalising moment before he sped off ahead, around a corner.

"Unfair!" Nick gasped, laughing. "You're way faster than me!"

"It's because you're old." Charlie's voice echoed slightly then as he dipped through a door and out of sight. Nick skidded after him.

The plaque labelling 'Function Room B' sparkled in the light as Nick pushed the door open.

Inside was dimly lit and utterly silent.

Even the slight whistle through the gaps in the wood had gone.

The floor was clean. The wardrobe and cupboards were closed. The bed was neatly made, the grey throw folded carefully at the foot.

Two school bags had been thrown haphazardly into the corner.

It was perfect. Just like he and Charlie had made it.

Cosy and perfect and theirs.

A discarded can of coke glinted dully on the floor beside the bed.

Something sticky coated the floor beneath Nick's feet.

He lifted his foot. His shoe came away red.

He looked up again.

The shooter took aim.

Nick tried to raise the cricket bat but his hands would not move.

He tried to take a step. His feet were rooted to the spot.

Get away from him!

But his own words came out as merely an echo in his head, his mouth clamped shut against itself.

A gunshot ripped through the cabin and the shooter was gone.

The cricket bat hit the ground with a deafening thunk.

A thin, pale hand flopped out from under the bed, followed by the rest of Nick's world, coated in red pouring from his heart.

The sand stretched out into the distance, flat and golden in the sun. The beach was empty. The sky was wide and clear and blue. The hand in Nick's was warm and solid.

The salty sea air lifted their hair as he and Charlie strolled along the surf, letting the waves lap playfully at their bare feet.

"I love you," Nick heard himself say.

Charlie's face split into a smile. His eyes glittered more beautifully than the water behind him.

"Let's go!" Charlie exclaimed with a laugh and turned toward the water, dragging Nick along behind him. Nick found himself laughing too, Charlie's joy infectious as always.

Nick let Charlie guide him out to sea until they were submerged up to their waists.

The water was warm, the waves calm, the ocean spread out all around them infinitely. There was nothing except sea and sky and Charlie, the wind in his hair, serene and wonderful.

Nick pulled Charlie closer to him. Charlie stumbled a little against the water but Nick clasped both his hands to steady him. Charlie giggled again and then he kissed him.

He tasted of summertime and salt and Nick felt like he could float away…

A wave surged across them, knocking them both aside. Nick was jolted off his feet but kept his arms tightly around Charlie's waist.

The water settled and stilled once again. Nick tried to set his feet down but the sand beneath him had disappeared. His feet kicked at empty water. Nick tightened his arms around Charlie as he heard him gasp in fright.

Charlie clung to him as Nick tread water. He could feel Charlie's erratic heart as if it were a second drumbeat inside his own chest.

"It's alright. I've got you." Nick looked around desperately for a sign of land, but all he could see still was ocean, sky and Charlie. Even as he felt his legs begin to tire he said, "I won't let you go. I promise. I will never let you go."

Charlie lifted his head from Nick's shoulder. "But I'm already gone, Nick," said Charlie sweetly.

Nick's heart dropped. His blood ran cold. "No -"

"I'm not really here, my love. This is just in your head. You couldn't save me, remember?"

The warmth of Charlie's weight in Nick's arms suddenly vanished.

Nick fell forward to catch him but Charlie floated backwards, settling just out of reach.

"Don't go."

"But I've never been here…"

"You have! You were just here!"

Charlie gave Nick the saddest look of utter pity and then, he tipped gracefully backward and the water enveloped him into its embrace.

"Charlie!"

Nick yearned to follow but as he tried to move forward, he only felt himself falling further back and then the dark water claimed him too.

Nick's eyes flew wide open.

He lay on his back in his bed in the darkness of his room.

His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was plastered to his forehead not with seawater but with sweat. He shuddered against the sudden chill.

"Nick?"

He jumped.

Charlie?

The voice had come from under his bed. "Where are you?"

I'm here, Char.

No matter how hard he tried, Nick could not get the words to form in his mouth.

Charlie's voice came again, this time fractured with sorrow. "Where are you?"

I'm right here!

A broken sob. "Why did you leave me?"

Nick was stuck to his bed, paralysed, even as the boy under the bed - Charlie - his Charlie - began to cry - loud, shuddering sobs.

Charlie's voice had turned flat and cold, utterly heartbroken with betrayal. "Why didn't you save me?"

I tried. I'm so sorry.

Nick could only lie there, flat on his back, unable to even pull the covers more securely around himself, as he listened to Charlie's sobs slowly morph into weak cries then gradually into pain-filled whimpers.

It went on for what felt like hours. But still, all Nick could do was lay there and listen.

But then the whimpers stopped.

Charlie fell silent.

And Nick knew that was worse.

Sarah had just been shutting the bathroom door behind her when she heard it.

A howl-like scream, coming from her son's room.

She froze in her tracks for a second before her motherly instincts kicked in. She cleared the hallway and threw open Nick's bedroom door just as he let out another heart-wrenching cry.

Her sixteen-year-old rugby lad was curled up in his bed, tangled in the covers, sobbing so hard in his sleep that his whole body shook.

"Nicky…" She strode across the room and kneeled at the bedside. "Nicky, baby, you need to wake up."

Sarah stroked the sweaty fringe away from his face. Nick's brow was furrowed sharply. She smoothed a hand softly across it, wishing to ease some of the tension there.

"Shhh," she soothed. "Shhh, baby…"

She sat down carefully on the side of the bed and continued to stroke his hair. Slowly, very slowly, his breath evened out and then, his eyes blinked open.

"Charlie?" he gasped.

Sarah watched as her son's wide, terrified eyes found hers in the dim light, softened with realisation and then filled with tears once again.

"Oh, Nicky, it's okay… you're okay…"

"Charlie…" His voice broke through the whisper.

Sarah bundled his head into her lap. Nick slid his arms around her waist as he cried.

"Charlie's okay, baby. You were having a nightmare."

She thought distantly about how she had not held her son like this in years. Not since he had been little and got night terrors. He didn't fit as comfortably in her lap any more, she realised sadly. Though that didn't mean she had lost the ability to calm him.

Nick's shoulders relaxed as he let out a deep, shaky sigh. He sat up slowly, brushing aside a few stray tears with his wrists.

"You've been having a lot of nightmares lately, haven't you, baby?"

Nick nodded miserably.

"Is that why you've been so tired?"

He nodded again. His lip wobbled but he managed to stifle another onset of tears. He took another deep breath and let out a steadier sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Nicky. I wish you had told me sooner."

"S'okay."

He wiped away an extra tear. Sarah saw his eyes flick toward the clock beside the bed (3:27), then watched his gaze fall toward the edge of the bed.

Something about the sight seemed to make him tense up again, a distant terror clouded his brown eyes.

"Mum?"

An echo of the little boy who had had night terrors.

"Yes, Nicky?"

"Could you…" he gulped. "Could you look under the bed? I know it sounds stupid, but… please?"

"Of course, baby."

Sarah did not miss the look of gratitude in Nick's eyes before she got up and bent down to look under the bed.

"Just the usual storage boxes and assorted teenage boy debris," she said, straightening back up. "You need to clean, Nicholas."

Nick sighed and flopped back down against the pillows, exhausted.

"You lay there. Maybe read for a bit, or put some telly on? At least it's Saturday tomorrow, you can have a lie in. I'll be back in a minute. I'll make you some tea. How does that sound?"

Nick nodded weakly. "Thank you."

Sarah gave him a small smile, then headed out.

Nick was glad when his mum didn't shut the door completely behind her.

The first thing his hand sought was not a book nor the television remote, but his phone. He yanked out the charger cord and the screen glowed. His thumb took him subconsciously where he needed to be. It had typed out 'I love you' and hit send before he could remember there would be no reply.

Once his mum had returned with the tea and headed back to her own bed, Nick threw his covers over his head, making a safe bubble of warmth and darkness, lit only by the now-routine post-nightmare habit of scrolling slowly and methodically through his camera roll until he was forced to fall back into perilous waters.

Other than the odd 'sorry' and 'thank you', Charlie hadn't said a word to his mum over the last few days. Unless he was asked a direct question, he kept his head down and only answered as concisely as possible. He was determined to get back into his mum's good books and have his phone back once and for all.

During long periods in his mum's presence, he withdrew instead into his own mind. Charlie found it easier, well, at least more familiar, to do battle with his own bad thoughts rather than accidentally bring forth his mum's. His own mind was not usually his favourite place to be stuck in but Charlie was willing to endure anything at this point if it meant he could regain the means to comfort his boyfriend whenever he needed.

By lunchtime on Saturday, Charlie knew he had made some progress, but he wasn't sure of the extent of it until Jane finished her sandwich, looked up across the kitchen table and announced, "You may go over to Nick's house this afternoon if you wish."

All Charlie could do was stare and blink. Had he misheard?

"You will go straight there and back again, and I want you home again before five o'clock, do you understand?"

Charlie nodded, not daring to speak just in case he ruined everything again.

"You may take your phone from the counter, but it will go back there as soon as you come home, Charlie. You're not completely off the hook yet."

"Yes, mum," he said carefully. "Thank you."

Jane nodded solemnly, as if she was fighting the urge to take back her decision. "Off you go, then."

Charlie grabbed his phone from the side, slipped it into the pocket of his jeans and hurried out into the hall. He slid on some shoes and was out the door, wasting no time, in case his mum really did change her mind and yelled at him to come back.

The day was rainy and cloudy but Charlie didn't feel the cold. The familiar walk between Britannia Road and River Crescent was enough to instil within him a much-needed sense of freedom. It wasn't until he knocked on the door of number thirty-four that Charlie realised he hadn't even asked permission to come over.

But then the door opened and Sarah Nelson greeted him with a truly delighted smile. "Charlie! Come in, come in! Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes, please, Mrs Nelson."

"Oh, you're always so polite. It's Sarah, remember, dear?"

A scuttle of paws against the floor and Nellie bounded down the hall toward him. She greeted Charlie excitedly, tail wagging as she kissed his face sloppily. He bent down to scratch behind her ears.

"Hi, Nellie! I missed you! You're such a cute girl! Yes, you are!"

"And doesn't she know it," Sarah huffed, laughing. "Nick's upstairs. He's having a bit of a duvet day today. He… he didn't have a good night's sleep last night. I'm actually very glad you're here, Charlie. I haven't heard a peep from him all morning so hopefully he's gotten some sleep, but I'm sure a visit from you is just what he needs."

"Did he… did he have a nightmare?"

Charlie wasn't sure whether Nick had confided in his mum about his nightmares but, Sarah nodded, worried.

"He didn't tell me what it was about exactly, but your name came up a few times, dear."

A lump formed in Charlie's throat and he wanted to burst into tears right there in the Nelsons' hallway but just about managed to hold it in.

Sarah smiled sadly at him and patted his cheek. "Off you go, then. I'll bring that tea."

"Thank you," Charlie murmured, then set off up the stairs.

He heard Nellie whine as she was led off toward the kitchen by Sarah. "Come on, Nel, leave the boys be."

Charlie knocked softly on Nick's bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, the sound of some Marvel film or other spilling through into the hallway. A muffled grunt of assent for him to enter and Charlie stepped inside.

Nick was sitting up in bed, hair tousled, eyes directed at the television screen but unfocused, as if he wasn't really paying attention. The dark circles under his eyes had grown even darker. He was looking distinctly sorry for himself.

"Hi."

"Charlie…" Nick looked up from the screen and blinked up at him in disbelief. "Charlie!"

He threw the duvet off himself and darted across the room. He wrapped his arms around Charlie and lifted him off his feet. Charlie laughed, a little deliriously, as he was spun around and around.

"Woah!" he giggled. "You're gonna make me dizzy!"

"Sorry!"

Nick set him down on his feet again but didn't let go. Charlie felt his boyfriend's arms were much firmer around him than usual. There was an intensity there that wasn't wholly unwelcome but it did remind Charlie of how worried he had been.

"How are you doing?" Charlie brushed aside the messy strands of Nick's fringe. "You had another nightmare?"

Nick exhaled. "Yeah. They've been happening every night, but last night…" He shuddered. "Last night was the worst one yet."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really… Did you get my text?"

"Huh? No."

Charlie fished his phone from his pocket and saw he did in fact have a notification.

NICK (3:31): I love you

"I love you, too."

Nick beamed. He led Charlie toward the bed and sank down onto it, pulling him onto his lap.

"Have you been in bed all morning?"

"Yeah. So?"

"You probably need a shower."

"Are you saying I smell?"

Nick brought Charlie's face between his hands and kissed him, soft but firm. It was one of Charlie's favourite kinds of kisses. It was as if Nick was saying 'you're mine' and 'I'll never leave you' and 'thank you for existing' all in one motion.

"Well…" Charlie smirked. "I'm not saying a shower would be of no use to you, Nick, that's all."

Nick chuckled. "Alright, alright, I get the message."

While Nick was in the shower, Charlie waited contentedly in his bedroom. He was scrolling through his missed Instagram notifications when Sarah arrived with the tea. She set down two mugs on the bedside table and observed the changes in the room.

"My word," she said. "You got him out of bed and into the shower. And who opened the curtains? Was that you or Nick?"

"Would I be a bad boyfriend if I didn't let Nick take the credit for that one?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then it was me. I opened the curtains. I didn't want to end up dating a hermit."

Sarah laughed. "I'm impressed, Charlie."

At that moment, Nick re-entered, a towel over his head. He pulled it off and stopped in the doorway, unnerved at the sight of both his mother and his boyfriend watching him.

"And he's dressed for the day," Sarah marvelled. "You are a miracle worker, Charlie. It's official, you can stay."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh at the baffled look on Nick's face.

"What is happening in here?"

"Nothing, dear," said Sarah, patting his cheek. "Drink your tea before it gets cold."

Sarah shut the door behind her.

Nick and Charlie sank back against the headboard, nursing their tea, revelling in being in the same room together but not at school.

"You didn't sneak out did you, Char?"

"No." He rested his head against Nick's shoulder, and Nick kissed his hair. "My mum actually gave me permission. I didn't even ask, she just told me I was allowed."

"Wow…"

"I know… my mum's brain works in mysterious ways…" Charlie lifted his head slightly to kiss Nick's jaw. "Anyway, let's just make the most of her generosity while it lasts. We have until five."

Charlie kissed his way along Nick's jawline. He was just eyeing his neck when a loud gurgle interrupted. They both glanced down at Nick's stomach.

"Maybe we should eat some lunch first before we get too distracted," Nick laughed.

"I already ate lunch at home but you should eat," said Charlie. And he was proud to admit he wasn't lying.

"Are you sure? I don't mind making you something. We can eat up here?"

"It's fine. Really."

Nick headed toward the door. Charlie leant back comfortably against the pillows as Nick disappeared into the hall. Charlie was just about to pick up his phone again when Nick returned.

"Um… are you not coming with me?"

Charlie blinked up at him, amused. "I was just going to wait for you here, but… do you want me to come with you, Nick?"

"Yes, please." Nick glanced down at his feet sheepishly. "Please come with me, Char."

Charlie heaved a dramatic sigh and hefted himself from his comfortable position. "Fine."

"Thank you."

And Nick sounded genuinely grateful. He wrapped his arms around Charlie again and hugged him tightly for a long moment.

"I think I might be a bit more clingy than usual today…"

Charlie hugged him back with a squeeze. "I don't mind. That means I can be as clingy as I want too. We deserve it."

Nick's stomach let out another loud rumble.

As Nick ate his lunch, he and Charlie sat and watched the rest of the film he had paused on the TV this whole time.

Charlie tried to pay as much attention as possible but he kept getting distracted by the intense looks Nick kept shooting his way. Charlie made sure to be physically touching Nick at all times, even if it was just their shoulders or their feet. He knew his boyfriend was subconsciously checking to see if he was still there, and wanted to make sure his mind could never doubt Charlie's presence for a second.

An hour later, when lunch had been consumed, Nick and Charlie looked up from their subsequent make-out session to see the end credits of the film rolling.

"Whoops," Charlie deadpanned.

"You should be flattered that I find you more entertaining than the Avengers."

"What? Like it's hard?"

"Hey!" Nick poked at Charlie's sides, making him giggle and squirm. "Just because you have no taste!"

"Get off me!" Charlie shrieked, rolling onto his back. Nick rolled too and hovered over him, hands supporting himself on either side of him. Charlie stared in awe at the adorable way Nick's damp fringe flopped into his eyes. "I think you'll find I have excellent taste, Nicholas. I'm with you, aren't I?"

"You're right. We both have excellent taste." He bent to kiss Charlie's lips. "In boys, that is."

Charlie laughed and Nick caught it in another kiss. Charlie pulled him flush against his chest, his hands tangled in Nick's hair as their kiss caught fire.

There was no part of them that wasn't touching, and, without breaking contact, Nick flipped them both over so that Charlie came to rest above him.

Charlie resumed his earlier task and trailed kisses across Nick's jaw, then down his neck.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Kissing your neck," said Charlie. "Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah…"

Charlie continued.

"Oh my God," Nick gasped. "W-why have we never done this before?"

"Do you like that?"

"O-obviously…"

Charlie hummed against Nick's throat. "Good to know."

He continued to kiss further down the nape of Nick's neck, past the edge of his t-shirt, and when he could get no further, he tugged experimentally at the edge of the fabric.

His words came out laced with uncertainty. "Can I - can I take this off?"

Nick cupped Charlie's face in his hands and looked into his eyes. "Yes. You may."

"Are you sure?"

Nick reached down and quickly pulled his t-shirt off. He felt himself flush pink as Charlie sat there, straddling his waist, staring. Nick laughed nervously. "It's not like you haven't seen me shirtless a hundred times in the changing rooms."

"But this is an entirely different context!" Charlie's face was bright red. He bit his lip. Nick wanted to kiss it. "Can I t-touch you?" Charlie murmured.

"Yes."

Charlie placed two tentative hands against Nick's bare chest. He moved them slowly up and over his shoulders.

"You are so beautiful," Charlie whispered.

He kissed Nick's bare shoulder so lightly, so sweetly, Nick's heart melted into a puddle.

Nick kept his hands circled around Charlie's waist, steadying him above him. He folded his hands carefully around the hem of the oversized jumper he was wearing. "Can I take this off?"

As Charlie shifted slightly, Nick's hand brushed against the smooth skin underneath. Charlie flinched and his breath hitched.

"Can I -?" he stuttered. "Is it alright if I keep it on? I'm sorry… I just don't think I can…"

"It's alright, Char. You don't have to. There's no pressure… You don't have to apologise."

But Charlie was already sliding off him. He came to land on the covers beside Nick in a dejected heap. Nick sat up and threw his shirt back on quickly.

Charlie's shoulders were slumped forward, his hands worrying at the cuffs of his jumper. "I-it's not that I don't w-want to… it's just that…"

Charlie wrapped his arms around himself, hands trembling. Nick sat there patiently, close but not touching. Not until Charlie felt safe again.

"I…" Charlie took a deep shaky breath. "I have… scars…"

Nick blinked. His heart did a sickening flip.

What did he mean he has scars? What from?

"Charlie?"

Nick willed Charlie to look up at him, to tell him he had misheard, but he only seemed to sink deeper into himself, eyes cast downwards, distant.

"Last year…" he murmured. "When the bullying was really bad, I used to… um… I used to cut myself sometimes. After I was outed, people used to tell me I was disgusting right to my face. It got better after a few months when some Sixth Formers got the worst of the bullies to stop, but the damage had already been done, I guess. I started to believe what they were saying. It made me really hate myself."

Finally, Charlie looked up and met Nick's sad brown eyes.

"Please may I hug you," Nick croaked.

Charlie's chin wobbled as he nodded. Nick wrapped his arms around him and pulled him so that he was sitting across his lap. As they held on to each other, they both knew they were both holding back their tears.

"Do you still do that now?" Nick whispered.

"N-no! I mean - hardly ever… sorry…"

"Hey, no apologising! C'mere…"

Charlie snuggled up as Nick pulled him in closer.

"Can you promise to tell me if you ever feel that bad again?"

"Yeah. I promise."

Nick kissed Charlie's head, inhaling against the curls, trying to soothe his aching heart.

"I'm sorry for killing the mood." Charlie sighed. "Me and my disgusting scars will do that…"

"Hey… don't say that. Nothing, I repeat, nothing about you is disgusting, Charlie Spring. Every inch of you is beautiful."

"Hmph. And how would you know that? You haven't seen everything… what if my penis is really ugly?"

Nick must have gone bright red because Charlie's face split into a wicked little grin.

"Not possible," Nick laughed. "I said every inch, didn't I? I'm sure your penis is gorgeous, Charlie -"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that, Nicholas."

Nick and Charlie both shot up right, hair and clothes ruffled, to stare in horror at Sarah Nelson, who was now standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, trying to look intimidating whilst also fighting her desire to laugh.

"Mum! What the -? Did you even knock?"

"I did," said Sarah. "But it seems someone was a little distracted…"

"You can't just walk in here -!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. Maybe I should invest in a whistle…"

"Mum!" Nick buried his embarrassment in his pillow while Charlie giggled nervously.

"Anyway," said Sarah. "You're slacking, Charlie. You were meant to get this one out of bed not further in." She clapped her hands oh-too-cheerfully. "Up you get! The garage has needed clearing out for ages now and today is the day. Come on! The manual labour will help tire you out so you can sleep better tonight, Nicky."

Nick followed reluctantly out of the room after his mum and Charlie.

When they reached the stairs, luckily only Nick heard Charlie murmur, "We were already doing manual labour."

"I've got some big black sacks for all the rubbish," Sarah explained. "If there's anything you want to keep, you're welcome to it. If there's stuff you're not sure of, it might be David's or your dad's. I'd say chuck your dad's stuff and put David's to one side, just to be safe."

Sarah left them to it.

Nick switched the garage light on and looked upon the mess less than enthusiastically.

"This is not exactly what I'd call making the most of our time together," he sighed.

Charlie grabbed the reel of bin bags and began tearing a few off.

"I don't mind what we're doing, as long as I'm with you," he said, knowing very well how cheesy he was being. "Here, this one can be for rubbish, and this one can be for stuff we want to keep or sell."

"You've done this before?"

"Absolutely. My life has been nothing but school, homework and household chores all last week. My mum has me well trained at this point."

"Where do we even start?"

Charlie selected a box at random and dragged it off its shelf onto the floor. Nick followed suit and away they went.

Nick had to be the one to decide each item's fate, of course, as Charlie had no context for any of the stuff. After a while, they fell into a nice rhythm and Nick actually started to enjoy himself. Even if it was cheesy, he truly believed he could enjoy watching paint dry if Charlie was doing it with him.

Some of it reminded Nick sadly of the glorious week they had spent clearing out the cabin. It had been just the two of them, working on a project together that was theirs. They had felt so domestic and grown up.

That happy time was now obviously marred by more gruesome events but Nick was determined not to forget that, once upon a time, the cabin had been a place of joy.

"Oh my God, this is so cool!"

Nick looked up from the assorted books he was stacking.

"I've always wanted one of these!"

Charlie held up an old Polaroid camera he had found in one of the cardboard boxes. Nick smiled at his boyfriend's delight.

"I think that was my dad's. There's some film for it somewhere. I think I chucked it over there somewhere, hang on." Nick abandoned the books and rifled through the detritus around where he was sitting in an old camping chair he had found. "Here."

Charlie fitted the film into the camera, raised it, then snapped a photo before Nick could even compose himself.

"Hey!" Nick was sure he had not been making a flattering face.

Charlie shook the photo and peered at it, frowning. "Let me see that," said Nick.

Charlie stepped carefully between the piles of books at Nick's feet. Nick pulled him onto his lap - he fit there perfectly. They both studied the developing photo, heads bent together.

It wasn't as bad as Nick thought. His eyes were open at least, no mid-blink awfulness like he'd been expecting.

Charlie gazed at the photo in awe.

So, these were the heart-eyes their friends had so often teased Nick about. Charlie was so often caught up in the moment that he had never really known what they were talking about. But somehow, in this photo, Charlie had managed to capture his boyfriend's face exactly how it must look whenever he looked at Charlie, while Charlie was looking elsewhere.

Charlie couldn't tear his eyes away.

"It's a bit blurry," said Nick. "You'll probably need some better film, this stuff is pretty out of date."

"It's perfect," said Charlie. He looked back up at the real Nick. "You're perfect."

He kissed Nick's cheek, then lifted the camera up to take another picture.

They had a great time cuddled up in the camping chair, taking silly photos together, without a care if they turned out blurry or not. In the end they had about six or seven really good ones.

"I kind of like the blurriness," said Charlie as they perused their little collection. "It makes them look nostalgic, or like a dream."

"You can keep that if you like," said Nick, fondly.

"What? I - I couldn't do that, Nick. God, I shouldn't have even -"

As Charlie tried to press the camera into his hands, Nick felt him withdraw slightly into his self-consciousness. Nick pushed it back adamantly. "No, I want you to have it, Charlie. You obviously love it."

"I can't take something that was your dad's, Nick…"

"My dad doesn't even miss his own children, let alone some random old camera."

"Nick…"

"It's yours, Charlie. I'm giving it to you as a present. That means you have to take it and be grateful, even if it turns out you actually hate it."

Charlie chuckled. "I would never do that to you, Nick. I think our relationship is healthy enough to survive being honest about shitty gifts."

"I'll remember that next time you buy me something crap."

"What do you mean next time?" Charlie scoffed but smiled. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

"Oi, oi!"

Nick's blood ran cold.

"What's going on here then?"

They both looked up to see David Nelson leaning cockily against the frame of the open garage door. His eyes were wide with shock but it was quickly morphing into a sickening glee.

Sensing Nick's sudden tension, Charlie stood up from his lap at once, scattering photos as he did so.

Nick leapt to his own feet, the sudden whiplash of emotions turning his stomach. A couple of stacks of books toppled over.

"David, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Just visiting home, Nicholas, no need to get your knickers in a twist. Are you going to introduce me to your little boyfriend, then?"

David sauntered across the garage toward them. The smirk plastered across his face told Nick and Charlie that he knew exactly what the position he had found them in meant.

"Er… Charlie, this is my brother David… unfortunately."

"Hey," said Charlie with a cautious smile.

David glanced down and, before Nick could register what he was doing, his brother picked up one of the fallen Polaroids and -

"I can't believe I've come home to find my little brother has been turned gay!" David barked out a cruel laugh. "Of course you'd turn out to be a fucking homo!"

"Give that back!" Nick grabbed for the paper in David's hands but his brother jerked it out of his reach. "And for your information, I'm bi, actually."

"I'm bi, actually!" David mocked. "If you're gonna be gay, at least admit you're gay!"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you!"

David laughed again. "Too late now! What? I'm not allowed to be sceptical when you're randomly deciding you're gay?"

"No! You're not! God, I knew you'd react like this!"

"Like what?"

"Like a homophobic piece of shit!"

Charlie grabbed a hold of Nick's hand. Despite his rage, Nick looked like he was going to cry.

"Language!" Sarah chided as she stepped into the garage from the house. "What is going on here? Oh - David, I didn't think you were coming home this weekend. What happened to Sophie? I thought you were meant to be visiting her parents."

"She ditched me at the last minute," David spat. "Just because I slept with her stupid friend Jo that one time…"

Sarah took a deep, long-suffering breath. "Are you going to tell me what all the shouting is about?"

"David's being a dick, as usual!"

Nick squeezed Charlie's hand - Charlie could feel his boyfriend's pulse racing.

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm just a bit shocked and not to mention, disgusted, that apparently some skinny twink has convinced my little brother that he likes sucking dick now!"

"David!" Sarah shouted, but then a second later, "Nick!" because Nick had thrown himself across the hodgepodge of junk at his feet, toward his brother.

"Nick! Don't!" Charlie cried.

Charlie leapt over the books after Nick and tackled him about the waist, successfully pinning him in place, but causing him to stumble. Several more piles of books cascaded over their feet.

David staggered back against a shelf. It toppled dangerously for a moment but luckily, it didn't fall over.

Nick stood there, breathing heavily. Rage was still coursing through him but it was sullied a little by Charlie wrapped around his middle.

"David," said Sarah, intimidating in her calmness. "I want you to leave this house and don't even think about coming back until you've decided you're going to treat your brother and his boyfriend with the decency and respect they deserve."

"But, mum -"

"No buts, David. Out!"

David kicked the remaining pile of books over, strode to the door, muttering, "Fucking fags…" and was gone.

Charlie stood there, staring after him, arms still slung around Nick's waits, but looser now. He let out a long breath.

"So," he said. "That's David, huh?"

"I hate him," said Nick. "I really hate him."

Sarah moved to put a comforting hand on her son's shoulder but stopped to watch instead as Charlie removed his arms from Nick's waist and took his clenched fists into his own hands. With a few tender strokes, Charlie smoothed them open. With a single glance, Charlie successfully drained the remaining anger from Nick's shoulders and he sank forward into Charlie's embrace.

"I'm so sorry that happened," said Charlie quietly. "We should have been more careful…"

"No." Nick pulled away sharply. "Sorry. It's just that… I don't want to have to be careful. Especially not in my own home."

"Still," said Charlie. "You should have been able to tell him when you wanted. When you were ready."

Nick shook his head sadly. "It wouldn't have mattered. I always knew he would react like that. I suppose now it's just out of the way… I'm not surprised, honestly. I'm just sorry you had to hear all that."

"I apologise too, Charlie," said Sarah.

The boys had almost forgotten she was there.

"My older son can be a little bigoted. I'm afraid he surrounds himself with some unfortunate minded people and well… I try my best with him but there's only so much I can do now he's off at uni."

"It's alright, Mrs Nelson," said Charlie. "You have one perfect son. It would be a miracle if you had two."

"Hmm," Sarah hummed as Nick turned pink. "Maybe so. Tell me, Charlie, are your siblings as wonderful as you?"

Charlie spluttered as he too, turned pink. "Um, well…"

Nick smiled, chuckling. "Not as wonderful, but they're definitely better than David. Tori's kind of hard to read but Oliver is adorable."

Sarah bent down to help them re-stack the books back into their piles.

Nick gathered up the scattered Polaroids before his mum could get her hands on them. She raised her eyebrows suspiciously at him.

"Nothing too scandalous on those I hope, Nicholas."

Nick groaned. "Mum! No! Why would -?"

"I'm only teasing, Nicky," Sarah laughed. "But seriously, when your relationship does progress, I trust you both to be sensible about things. And just know that if you ever need me to answer any questions or, if you need me to buy you anything -"

"Mum! Please shut up…"

"I'm just saying that I'm here for you, both of you, if you need me."

Charlie determinedly kept looking at the stack of books in front of him and not at Nick or his mum. There was a part of him, buried beneath the mortification, that was a little jealous of Nick's relationship with his mum. Charlie didn't think there would ever come a day when his own mum would offer advice about gay sex - even if it would be super embarrassing.

Luckily, the boys were saved from stewing in their awkwardness any longer by Charlie's phone buzzing. He slipped it from his pocket and glanced at the text.

"Crap," he said, getting to his feet. "It's five o'clock. I have to go home right now."

Nick scrambled up too. "Do you really have to go?"

"You're welcome to stay for dinner if you like, Charlie," said Sarah.

"I would love to but my mum is a bit…"

"Controlling," said Nick. He hated the drastic change in Charlie's mood when he had received that text. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I don't know, but I'll try my best. Thank you for having me, Mrs - Sarah."

"You're welcome here anytime, Charlie."

Sarah must have sensed she was intruding because she slid back into the house and left Nick and Charlie alone to say goodbye.

"Are you going to be okay?" Nick asked as he pulled Charlie into a hug.

"Are you?"

They both exhaled deeply, breathing each other in as much as they could before they had to part again.

"We'll be fine," said Charlie. "I can face my mum and you can face your brother. We've got this!"

Nick smiled, knowing fully well that Charlie was trying to convince himself as well as him.

"I really do have to go, Nick. I should have been home five minutes ago."

Charlie kissed Nick quickly but with feeling, booped his nose for good luck, then made his way toward the garage door.

"Wait! Charlie, you forgot this!"

Nick hurried after him. Charlie stopped and turned on the driveway.

"Oh, right! Are you sure it's okay for me to keep this?"

Nick pushed the camera into his hands. "Charlie! Just take it! You deserve nice things!"

"Okay, okay." Charlie flushed, smiling abashedly. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

It was almost ten past five when Charlie finally stepped through his front door. He was still giddy from his (mostly) fantastic day. He wasn't going to let his not-so-great first run-in with David ruin what had otherwise been one of the best afternoons he'd had in a while.

Charlie was so happy he forgot to wipe the smile from his face as he wandered into the kitchen.

Jane was waiting for him. Dinner was cooking behind her in the oven.

"What time do you call this?"

"I'm sorry, mum. I lost track of time. At least dinner's not ready yet, I didn't miss it."

"That's not the point, Charlie. I made it very clear that you were to be home by five, not 'as close to five as you see fit'."

"I'm sorry, mum," Charlie said again.

"You will be. What's that you've got?" She nodded at the camera in his hands.

"It's a Polaroid camera!" Charlie exclaimed, showing her. "It was a present from Nick. Isn't it cool? I've always wanted one but I could never save up enough…"

"He's buying you expensive presents now, is he? You need to be careful, Charlie. Don't let yourself be bought into anything."

"What?" Charlie gasped. "He didn't even buy it! And even if he had, it wouldn't have been to buy me! He doesn't need to! He has me! Completely for free! Without any of the manipulation you keep assuming!"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Charlie Spring!"

"Then stop speaking about my boyfriend like that! As if you know anything about him! We love each other! If his mum can accept us then why can't you?"

"That woman…"

"That woman is a better mum than you'll ever be!" Charlie shouted. "At least she listens to her children, at least she cares -!"

A sharp pain suddenly flared across Charlie's cheek.

He rocked backwards on his heels into the kitchen counter.

He stood there for a moment, the camera clutched tightly in trembling hands.

She had slapped him.

Jane stood before him, horrified at herself, staring at her hand, breathing heavily. "Charlie, I -"

But Charlie only heard the blood pumping in his ears, felt the sting of his cheek, even as he climbed the stairs and fell onto his bed.

Once again, the empty darkness engulfed him and it was as if the Nelsons, or familial warmth, had never existed.


Thanks for reading! (I'm personally so proud of this chapter - it turned out so good) Leave a nice comment if you like x