Chapter Eight: Fight

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Nick's duffel was ringing. It's probably the hospital, he thought. If they expected him to pick up one more shift after working twelves the last three days, they were wrong. He was a dirty, sweaty mess after rugby league, anyway. Rounding the corner to his flat, he fished for his keys in the side pocket of his bag, using one hand to extract his phone so he could see better. Sensing movement, the screen flashed on.

New Voicemail
Charlie Spring

Nick touched the screen, then anchored the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he continued trying to locate his keys.

"Hey Nick, it's Charlie," said a slightly muffled version of a familiar voice. This is new, Nick thought. They had been messaging a lot these past few weeks, but Charlie had never called him before.

"I don't really know why I'm calling. Just needed to talk, I guess. Er, I just got some news and I'm feeling a bit... weird about it. Anyway, ring me back when you can. Okay, um. Bye."

Nick had finally gotten through the front door. He dropped his bag with a thump and sat on the floor to remove his rugby boots. Edwin trotted over to sniff his duffel, collar jingling. Nick gave him a scratch behind the ears, phone still wedged against his shoulder. Charlie's line was ringing before he had loosened his laces.

He answered. "Nick, hi."

"Hi," said Nick. "What's u-"

"Can we meet?," interrupted Charlie.

"Um, sure. Yeah. Well," he looked down at his shorts and reconsidered. "I mean, I just got home from rugby. I'm sort of... filthy."

"Oh. Yeah, of course," replied Charlie, sounding like he was feeling foolish. "Sorry. I'm sure you're busy. It was unfair of me to think - "

"Want to come round mine?" It was Nick's turn to interrupt. His heart beat faster. "I should be cleaned up by the time you get here. I can text you the address."

Charlie hesitated. "Yeah. Yeah that sounds good. Um, okay. See you soon."

"See you."

Nick scrambled to his feet. He hoped he had enough time to collect himself. Hearing that something was bothering Charlie made his nerves feel like they were on fire.

***

Nick locked eyes with himself in the mirror as he combed his wet hair. He was second-guessing this now. Was it alright that he had invited Charlie to his flat? Was Charlie okay? And why had he called Nick, and not this 'partner' of his? Nick's mind raced.

The doorbell. Edwin barked twice, then three times. Nick made his way toward the sound, his bare feet padding rhythmically on the thin, striped rug that lined the hallway. He opened the door. Charlie was standing on the brick stairs leading up to his stoop, bundled in a thick winter coat and a wool hat. Probably overkill for the warm streak they had been having, thought Nick — but then again, Charlie was always cold.

"Hi."

"Hi," Charlie replied softly, his voice coloured by an emotion Nick couldn't quite place. The two men remained fixed on each other until Edwin barked again, breaking the spell. "Oh and hi to you too, Eddie!" Charlie's voice had snapped back to its usual tenor. "You're such a good boy! Yes you are!"

"Er, come in," said Nick, moving back from the doorway so that Charlie could pass through. Nick took his coat and hat and hung them on the rack by the door. "Cuppa?," he asked as Charlie removed his shoes.

"Sure, thanks," said Charlie. Nick led him into the living area, an open-concept room that was divided by a large island into a cozy sitting area and small, black and white kitchen.

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