Falling (a Heartstopper fanfiction)

Match

There was a lot of chatter as the bus pulled up at St. John's, but Charlie was even less inclined to join in than usual. He was so nervous to play in his first match. He didn't want to embarrass Nick—and he didn't want to get hurt. And he wasn't sure which one he was more worried about.

Nick ran with him around the track for warm-ups, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. No chatter, no explanation of tactics, like there usually was before a match.

"So, all my friends are showing up in a bit to watch me play," Charlie told him.

"All your friends?"

"Tao, Isaac, and Elle. I said they really didn't have to come, but Elle said they wanted to be supportive." Elle had plenty of reason to avoid boys like the ones on the rugby team, after the troubles she'd had the past year, and Tao had never liked them. Charlie would honestly have preferred that they didn't come—it was one more thing to be nervous about—but he appreciated them for wanting to.

"Oh. That's ... that's nice."

Charlie immediately felt guilty. "Don't worry. I won't say anything about us."

"Oh. Yeah. Good. Thanks." Nick's voice was absolutely colourless, and Charlie worried that something was really wrong. But then he asked, "You sure it's okay?" and sounded more like himself.

"Yeah. Of course," Charlie assured him.

Before either of them could say anything more, Harry Greene ran between them, hooking an arm awkwardly round each of their necks and laughing his horsey laugh. "Not gonna flake out today, are you, Charlie?"

"No."

"'Cause we're counting on you." He laughed again and let them go, rejoining the others.

Behind them, Charlie could see his friends approaching. "They're here. I'll be right back," he said to Nick, hurrying back down the track to meet them.

He ran straight to Elle, hugging her tightly. "Oh, my God, I missed you!"

"I missed you, too."

"Excuse me, where's our hug?" Tao asked.

"I see you all the time."

Elle turned to two other girls who had come with them. "So this is Tara and Darcy."

"Yeah. Hi." The last time he'd seen Tara, he'd been terribly jealous of her. Now ... so many things had changed.

Darcy came toward him like they were old friends, wrapping an arm round his shoulders. "Charlie! My guy. I'm not gonna lie to you, I'm mainly here to get acquainted with the local gays, but, you know, you and Nick Nelson are looking suspiciously coupley."

Over her shoulder, Charlie could see Nick warming up nearby, and he tried not to panic. The last thing he wanted was for Nick to be outed, and especially not at a rugby match.

Tara looked as embarrassed as Charlie felt. "Oh, my God, please ignore her!"

"We're friends," Charlie said, sounding lame even in his own ears. "He's my friend."

"Well, friends as in friends, or friends as in friends?"

"Darcy!" Elle said.

As Darcy let go of him and rejoined Tara, Charlie asked, "Why? Are there—are there rumours, or ..."

"No. No, nothing but my gay intuition."

Charlie didn't think he and Nick had looked especially coupley today. Often it was so hard not to be happy just being around each other, and flirting came so easily to them, that Charlie worried people might notice, which was why they spent as much time as possible alone, but today Nick's mind was clearly elsewhere. There hadn't even been a smile since they entered the locker room. Charlie had to respect Darcy's gay intuition, since it was spot on.

"I promise, we're totally platonic, good friends," he lied.

"Disappointing, but ... Okay."

He was glad she'd given it up.

A whole group of Nick's other friends showed up around then—including Ben, and that girl Imogen, the other one Harry had thought Nick liked.

Charlie talked to his friends a bit more, and then was called over to finish warming up. He was standing near Nick when the other team came out of their locker room, and he frowned as he watched them. Something didn't seem right. "Quick question: Why are the other team literal adult men?"

"They're a specialist sports school."

Well. That was not what Charlie would have liked to see the first time he played. He found himself leaning against Nick's arm for comfort, and immediately pulled away. "Sorry. Nervous."

Nick didn't say anything, and Charlie felt terrible for not being able to stand on his own better. The whistle blew and Nick put in his mouthguard, heading for the pitch. "Come on, boys!"

Once the match started, Charlie started to understand better why Nick had been so distracted. The other team were physically bigger, they were better trained, and they played a much more aggressive style than the teams Truham usually played. Nick wasn't team captain, but everyone looked to him for leadership anyway. Even more than most games, he was constantly watching everything. Charlie could see how focused he was, and felt even worse for distracting him with his own insecurities all afternoon. He tried to put into practise on the pitch everything Nick had taught him; today of all days, he didn't want to be an embarrassment.

It got even worse when the rain rolled in. The St. John's players didn't seem bothered by it at all. In fact, they seemed to play better.

At some point, Harry caught up with Charlie and teased him about a player on the other team having a thing for him. Charlie mostly wished Harry would piss off, but he had learnt a long time ago that people like Harry gave up sooner if you didn't respond.

Truham was losing terribly. Charlie had lost track of how much of the match was left to play. All he could focus on was not slipping in the mud, keeping his wet hair out of his eyes, and not embarrassing Nick.

At last, the moment he had been fearing all along came—the player with the ball was coming straight at him. Charlie had to tackle him. The player probably weighed twice as much as Charlie did, all of it muscle, but he wasn't going to give up. He stood his ground, going in for the tackle.

And then pain exploded in his face as the other player swatted him aside easily, and he landed on the ground, in the mud, holding his nose and afraid it was broken.

Coach Singh was there almost immediately, bending over him. He could hear her yelling, "Okay, that's it, I'm calling it! This rain is too dangerous. Match is over! Everyone off the pitch." She helped Charlie up and walked him to the infirmary.

After looking over his nose, she said, "I don't think this looks too bad, Charlie. I have to go see to the others--will you be okay here for a few minutes?"

"Yeah."

She left him there, wet and in pain and miserable, wishing he had never joined the rugby team. Not if he was going to be this terrible. It was his fault the match was ended, and he'd failed to make the tackle, and he'd been so clingy all day ... He wouldn't blame Nick if he didn't want to talk to him ever again.