Gay Panic - Heartstopper AU

8. Confession

"How may I help you today, gentlemen?"

The receptionist greeted the boys with a warm dimpled smile and just the slightest suggestion of a bow. Nick thought his posh accent seemed a bit out of place for a budget hotel. The suited man's eyes flicked behind Charlie for a moment to the flag poking out of his backpack, but the smile didn't waver.

He listened intently to Charlie explain that they knew they were early for their reservation and their guardian wasn't with them but they've been marching in the parade all morning and got split up from their group and would really, really appreciate it if they were allowed to rest here for a little while.

When put like that, their plan did sound ridiculous, but neither of them had thought this far ahead yet.

But the man behind the counter seemed to consider their story respectfully. He verified that their party's names were in the computer system. Their rooms weren't ready yet, but the boys were permitted to rest in the lobby or the rooftop lounge until Lux joined them.

The mention of a rooftop lounge made the boys glance at each other. They thanked the receptionist profusely, and he sent them off with another slight bow and a gesture to the elevator.

When they got inside it, Nick jabbed the top floor button with his finger. As the elevator climbed, Charlie texted their friends to update them.

The elevator doors parted and let them out into a glassed-in cocktail lounge. A stream of natural light through the windows made the rows of inverted water glasses dazzle. Beyond the windows, the rooftop level offered views of the city in all directions.

The bartender's back was to them, his outstretched arm pointing a remote at a TV screen in the corner. The loudening voice of a newsperson gave commentary over footage of Pride floats crossing at the Piccadilly Circus junction.

A shudder passed through Nick's chest and arms and then spread everywhere else. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched his nose for only a second, then averted his gaze to the skyline.

When Charlie discovered the television himself, he quickly said, "Let's go outside."

Past the bar and through the door, the boys reentered the summer heat. They headed to the side of the roof with a partial view of the London Eye and the clock face of Big Ben. They sat their elbows on the concrete balustrade and bumped shoulders.

Nick looked over at his boyfriend. "There's still some confetti in your hair. I'd help take it out, but it..."

"Makes me look pretty?"

"Exactly," Nick said, eyes twinkling at him. "You're something of a mind reader."

"Using my intuition, more like. I do wish I could read your mind, though."

"Why? Isn't it sort of fun not knowing what I'm about to say next?"

"Because I'd understand what really happened back there."

The twinkle faded. There was a palpable shift in the tone of the conversation. Clearly Charlie was eager to cut through the small talk and get some answers.

Nick looked away and fixed his eyes on a river boat drifting down the Thames. The rooftop proved itself useful for a conversation like this. Nick could face Charlie or the cityscape before them. Either choice felt appropriate.

He inhaled deeply through the nose. Collecting his thoughts, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip until he found where he had unconsciously bitten down on it earlier. He grimaced at the taste of iron.

Nick tried to recount everything he did, everything he saw, everything he felt when he ran from the parade and found himself in that red telephone box. Some parts of it were a blur, some too difficult to put into words. Charlie listened patiently, not saying a word until Nick was finished.