Supportive

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Charlie tapped lightly on the door to Nick's room, which had been pulled to but not closed entirely. He pushed it open, coming round the door with his two mugs of tea.

Nick was lying in bed, his eyes closed, apparently asleep, and seeming much better than he'd looked when he got home. Charlie smiled, bringing the tea mugs to the bedside table and putting them down as quietly as possible.

He climbed onto the bed, slowly and carefully, trying not to wake his boyfriend, then reached over and started stroking his hair.

"Mm." Nick smiled a little, his eyes still closed.

"Hey."

"Hey," Nick said back.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the still steaming mugs. "I made you tea."

Nick smiled again. He moved so that his head was resting on Charlie's stomach, his arm thrown round Charlie's waist. "Char," he said softly.

The nickname made him melt, the way it always did. "Yeah?"

"You told Harry to piss off." He chuckled. "I enjoyed that."

"So did I."

Nick laughed again.

"I'd do it again."

Lifting his head, Nick looked at Charlie, still smiling. "Yeah?"

"I'd fight them."

Nick was still laughing, but Charlie meant every word. He understood now why Nick had charged back into the cinema to fight Harry that day. He'd do that for Nick, if anyone hurt him.

"You'd fight?" Nick asked.

"I'd fight anyone who's mean to you."

Nick closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto Charlie's stomach. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I said I'd tell them, but ... I couldn't."

"Nick." Charlie sat up, then settled back in with his head on the pillow next to Nick's. "You have nothing to apologise for. Tonight just wasn't the night."

"I promised."

"What do you mean?"

"When we went to the beach. I told you I was going to come out, but ... I've just been finding it so hard." He was getting that distressed look again, the one he'd worn before his exams. The one he'd been wearing all night.

"You didn't promise anything," Charlie said. He thought for a moment, wanting to say this the right way, so Nick would stop putting so much pressure on himself. "I think there's this idea that when you're not straight, you have to tell all your friends and family immediately. Like you owe it to them. But you don't." Charlie reached out and pulled Nick back to snuggle again.

He wanted to be supportive. He really did. He wanted Nick's coming out to be perfect, he wanted to spare Nick everything he'd been through.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Maybe we should forget the coming-out plan for a while." After all, all their friends knew. Their parents knew. It wasn't a secret anymore. That should be enough, shouldn't it?

Nick shifted, looking up into Charlie's face. "Really?"

"Yeah." He smiled as supportively as he could manage. "Let's just stay low-key in Paris, and then it'll be the summer holidays, and we can just be us."

"That does sound nice."

It did. Charlie found it hard to believe that they had only been them for a few months. That at the beginning of term, he hadn't even known who Nick Nelson was, not really, and now here they were, together, and that was all either of them really wanted. He smiled. "Yeah."

Nick put his head back down, snuggling in.

Charlie stroked his back lightly.

"You're sure you're okay with it?" Nick murmured.

It took a moment. Charlie had had such dreams of what it would be like to be completely out and open. But he said, "Yeah," because he wanted what would make Nick happy more than anything else. "Just ... Obviously I want you to come out when and how you want to. And if that takes a long time, that's completely okay. But ... I guess ... part of me just wants everyone to know you're my boyfriend."

He smiled, waiting for Nick's response, but there was none. Craning his neck to look into Nick's face, Charlie could see that he'd fallen asleep.

Charlie lay there a little longer, just holding Nick and listening to him breathe. But eventually he was sure his curfew was coming up—and if he stayed here, he'd fall asleep, too, and then he'd really be in trouble.

Gently, he worked his way out from under Nick, who stirred and reached for him. Charlie leaned over, stroking his hair back off his face. "Get some sleep. I'll text you in the morning."

"Mm." Nick burrowed his head under the pillows and was asleep again in moments.

Charlie picked up the mugs of tea, since Nick's would be cold and nasty by the time he woke up, and sipped at his a little bit on the way down the stairs.

He rinsed out the mugs in the kitchen and stopped by the living room, where Sarah was curled up on the couch with Nellie and a book. Nellie lifted her head and whined sleepily at Charlie, and he went over to scratch her ears.

"He asleep?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah."

"He'll be all right in the morning. You coming back tomorrow?"

"Maybe." He hoped so.

"Not grounded any longer, then."

Charlie smiled. "No."

"Well, thank goodness for that. We've missed you round here."

"I've missed being here," he admitted shyly.

He let himself out of the house and walked back home, tucking his hands into the pocket at the front of Nick's jumper. He loved wearing Nick's clothes—it was like constantly being hugged by him. He loved being with Nick, and everything about their relationship ... except that Nick couldn't come out. He didn't want to be bothered by that—it felt unfair to Nick, like he was holding him to a standard he couldn't be expected to live up to yet. But some part of him, the dark part that said things to him that weren't true, secretly wondered if Nick couldn't tell people because, deep down, he didn't want anyone to know.

Charlie squashed that thought the moment he had it ... but it had been there.


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