Chapter Text
Deep down, Charlie knew coming back to Truham for Christmas would be the worst decision he’d ever make.
He’s currently stood in the confectionery aisle of Big Tesco, staring at the same six measly boxes of chocolate, trying to decide which would be the one that would garner the least amount of snide remarks from his mother. His fingers twitch against the handles of the basket and he swaps it over to his left hand to flex out his fingers, sighing as he reaches out to grab the expensive but impressive-looking box of Thorntons. There, his mother would be satisfied with that. He glances down to check on the items in his basket, mentally counting everything to make sure he’s found something for everyone in this Big Tesco: A murder mystery book for Tori; some five-minute, one-pan meals recipe book for Michael; an ASOS gift voucher for Olly; a Primark gift voucher for Olly’s fiancé, Max; a new apron that comes with matching oven gloves for his dad; and a bottle of red wine and a box of chocolate for his mum. It all comes to just under fifty quid after Charlie does the maths and that’s before the Tesco Clubcard discounts.
Charlie is crushing Christmas this year.
Usually, he just sends each person twenty quid on Christmas Eve so this whole present-buying shit is new. He was going to just hand everyone twenty-pound notes but Jane had decided to not-so-subtly proclaim the expectations of real presents now that Charlie is home for Christmas ‘for once’. So he sighs, looking up from his basket, and sets off towards the self checkouts amongst his fellow last-minute customers. As he walks with Mariah Carey in his ears, he passes the baking aisle and something catches his eye, slamming him back to his teen years. He stops dead in his tracks, majorly aggravating the old woman behind him, and shuffles into the aisle to get out of the way, swallowing the fat lump that’s forming in the base of his throat. Standing in front of the flour section, with his blonde eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinises two different bags, is Nick Nelson. His ex-boyfriend, his first boyfriend. Charlie swallows again, not knowing exactly what to do with himself or the information, but his feet move for him.
“Nick?”
It falls out of his mouth before he can stop himself but it’s so loud in here that he’s hoping Nick hasn’t heard him and he can make a quick escape before Nick even notices him. But it’s Nick and Nick’s always seemed to have a kind of ‘Charlie Spring’ radar because he looks up instantly and brown meets blue for the first time in nearly a decade.
Pounding music floods Charlie’s ears and he feels smaller than he’s felt in a while. Nick’s brown eyes stare at him in a tearful glare.
“Mate?! You never call me mate!”
“Charlie?”
Charlie blinks and he looks at a much older Nick and… Nick’s staring at him with sparkling eyes and the widest smile Charlie’s seen on anyone in so long.
“Oh, my God, how are you?” he continues to ask and Charlie curses at his body for making him step towards Nick.
“I-I’m good,” he stammers, nodding more than is humanly necessary. “I live in America now, working in publishing. ‘M just home for Christmas.”
Nick beams. “Me too! Not the America part, obviously, but I’m just here for Christmas too. I stayed in Leeds, I’m in primary education.”
Charlie can’t help his smile, despite the mention of the very reason they broke up. Nick as a teacher to little kids. It makes sense.
“How is everyone? How’s your mum, how’s Emma?” he asks, his heart pounding at the thought of his old safe space, his old safe people.
Nick lights up further, even though Charlie didn't think that was even possible. “Mum’s good! Got a boyfriend now, they met on my first day of uni. Mortifying, if you ask me.”
Charlie laughs. Get it, Sarah.
“Oh, Emmy’s pregnant! She and Darcy got married about… six years ago? Yeah, around then. They spent some time travelling but now they’re back home to have their family.”
“Oh, my god, please pass my congratulations onto them for me,” he begs and Nick nods vehemently.
“Of course!” he exclaims and, because Charlie knows Nick so well, even after almost a decade of separation, hesitates when a second thought comes to mind before shaking his head. “Nah, it’s stupid.”
“I’m sure it’s not, you’ve not done anything stupid in your life,” Charlie says then pauses, grinning when Nick gives him a dubious look. “Well, not on purpose.”
Nick chuckles. “Mum’s still hosting the annual Nelson Christmas party. She’d love to see you, everyone would.”
“Oh!” Charlie exclaims, somehow not expecting that to come out of Nick’s mouth.
Nick wants him to see his family? On Christmas? Is Charlie even allowed to want to go? Would Sarah want him there after he broke her son’s heart?
“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t want to impose.”
“Please come,” Nick pleads and, for a split second, Charlie is bombarded with the image of sixteen-year-old Nick asking him to Harry Greene’s party. “I want you to be there. Besides, you’ll get to congratulate Emma and Darcy yourself. Mum will be beside herself.”
Charlie bites his lip, chewing on it as he thinks about it. He knows that this Christmas is going to be a big deal in the Spring house. Not only is it Charlie’s first Christmas back home in six years, it’s the first Christmas where Olly and Max are making an appearance together after their double proposal. Christmas is going to be carnage and he knows he won’t be able to relax at all. So he sighs, smiles and nods.
“Of course. I’d love to. I doubt I’d be missed anyway, it’s just going to be a lot of wedding talk.”
“Did Tori let Michael propose to her?” Nick asks, amused.
Charlie smirks. Of course. Olly was still a kid when they broke up, Nick doesn’t even know adult Olly. He shakes his head and Nick gasps.
“No… he’s ten years old! He’s still building tractor forts out of cardboard!”
Charlie laughs and shakes his head. “Nope. He is, in fact, eighteen years old. Mum apparently had a heart attack when Olly told her about the proposal.”
Nick smiles and Charlie has to stop himself from giggling at the way tears flood his brown eyes.
“Eighteen, God. And he’s already getting married?”
“Ah, well, they’re childhood sweethearts. Met on their first day at Truham and never looked back. Plus they promised it’ll be a long engagement because Max is in uni and Olls is at drama school. That seemed to make Mum more okay with it all.”
Nick nods with a smile and starts asking Charlie about everything else in his family, admitting that he reached out to Michael for a brief few months after Michael’s speed-skating career-ending injury in the last winter Olympics. Charlie’s heart flutters as they chat in the baking aisle, somehow feeling like no time has passed at all, despite the fact that they’re both completely different people now. Charlie is definitely on the other end of who he used to be and, judging by the beard that is taking over his face, so is Nick.
And yet, when they finally split off to their respective cars, Charlie feels like he’s fifteen again, in the best way possible.
Charlie’s lost count of the amount of times he’s asked himself why he made the decision to come home.
His family have been making comments that seem innocuous but really get on his nerves left, right and centre. Asking how he’s doing with his eating (perfectly fucking fine), asking if he’s met anyone famous out in L.A. (a fair few but NDAs exist), asking when he was coming back home for good (never if you don’t stop talking). Clara even got brave enough to ask if he’s ever slept with a celebrity. Which… yes, but he’s not going to tell her that because, again, NDAs exist.
But it was that question that had Charlie excusing himself and fussing with his hair in the mirror in the hallway. He grunts in frustration as one curl has decided to stand straight up, no matter what Charlie tries to do with it. There’s a flash of black out of the corner of his eye and he adjusts his gaze in the mirror to spy the reflection, deflating in relief when he sees that it’s Tori, complete with her signature glass of diet lemonade. She slurps on it.
“You off to Nick’s now?”
Tori, and Michael by default, were the only people Charlie told about reuniting with Nick and how he invited him to the Nelson’s party. Everyone else was told that he was off to see Tao, Elle and Isaac at Tao’s mum’s house and no-one had batted an eyelid. He looks back at Tori in the mirror and nods.
“I can’t handle another question about what it’s like to be surrounded by celebrities,” he drawls. “You’d think Clara would mature now she’s a mum.”
“It’s Clara we’re talking about,” Tori deadpans and Charlie concedes, giving up on his hair and reaching for his hat and scarf. “Say hi to Nick for me.”
He looks back at her after wrapping up warm, shocked to see a small smile on her face, and nods. “I will. I’ll text when I’m on my way home.”
She nods and watches with her small smile as he opens the front door, stepping out into the cold British winter weather. He shoves his hands into his pockets after shutting the front door behind him and starts walking in a direction he hasn’t walked in years. Muscle memory is a weird thing because, despite having not been to Nelson home in nearly ten years, his feet still know the path like he was last there yesterday. His brain welcomes the familiar route, counting his steps in one-two increments, and even the biting cold wind shoving itself down his throat doesn’t even put a dent in his growing happiness.
As he steps onto River Crescent and sees the familiar cars of Nick’s family lined up against the kerb, his smile widens and his footsteps speed up, almost to the point that he’s jogging up the Nelson’s driveway. His heart pounds in unexpected excitement and anticipation when he reaches the front door and, like the first time he visited, his hand shakes as he reaches out to press the doorbell. However, unlike that first time, he doesn’t hesitate. Hearing the shrill ring after he presses it, he shoves his hand back into his coat pocket and waits. Hearing Sarah’s voice as the door opens makes his smile widen so much that his cheeks start to ache and he looks up, giggling as Sarah Nelson stares at him with wide eyes.
“Got room for one more at the inn?” he asks.
“Oh, my darling!” she cries, stepping towards him to pull him into one of her patented hugs.
He welcomes it immediately, burying his nose into her shoulder. God, how he’s missed hugs from the Nelson family. Nick’s most of all but Sarah’s are a very close second. He squeezes her when she squeezes him first and giggles when she pulls away with tears in her eyes.
“What are you doing here, darling?” she asks. “Oh, gosh, come in, come in, you’re gonna freeze!”
He giggles more and follows her into the house, allowing her to fuss over him as she takes his winter gear from him. “I bumped into Nick at Tesco the other day and we got chatting. He invited me to the party and we both wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, consider me surprised!” she exclaims and Charlie falls into the urge to hug her again.
She groans in the hug, rubbing his back, and presses a kiss to his head, causing tears to prickle in his eyes. He lets out a sigh to get rid of them and pulls away, smiling when Sarah cups his face.
“You look so well. Can I get you something to drink, darling?” she asks, dropping her hands.
“Wine would be lovely, thank you. Red, if you have it.”
Sarah grins, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. “Of course I have red. Oh, there’s someone I need you to meet.”
He grins too and follows her into the main room of the house where most of Nick’s family is congregated. Again, it feels like he’s stepping back into the past, memories of playing with Nick’s younger cousins, nervously conversing with his aunt and uncle and grandparents, desperate for them to like him, curling up against Nick and the dogs as they watch Doctor Who. Nothing’s changed in here and, while he loves it, it makes him emotional.
He can’t think too hard about why that is. Not here, not now.
Nick’s in the kitchen when Sarah guides Charlie through the crowds of people, laughing with a man with a kind smile, thick-rimmed glasses and salt and pepper hair, and Charlie can’t help his smile at the visual. How could something like this feel like home already?
“Nicky, look who the cat brought in!” Sarah announces gleefully and Charlie beams when Nick turns around, his dark eyes lighting up immediately.
“You made it!” Nick exclaims, clambering over to sweep Charlie into a hug.
Charlie’s heart pounds. He hopes Nick doesn’t feel it.
“Of course I made it!” he tuts instead and they pull away. “How could I say no to surprising your mum?”
Nick smiles, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, before he looks back at the man who’s been watching on with a serene smile. “Oh, Charlie, this is Keith. Keith, this is Charlie.”
Keith’s smile widens and he steps forward, holding his hand out for Charlie to shake. “So lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from everyone.”
Charlie chuckles, shaking his hand. “I wish I could say the same.”
“Ah, well,” Keith winks. “The night is still young, my boy.”
Charlie decides immediately that he likes Keith.
He smiles and drops his hand as Sarah comes swanning over with a half-full wine glass of red wine. He thanks her and immediately takes a sip.
“Are you sure Darcy’s here?” he muses. “I haven’t heard them yet and I refuse to believe they’ve calmed down in their chaos.”
Nick laughs and goes to speak but gets cut off, swiftly taking Charlie’s wine glass from him when a blur of blonde hair sweeps him up into a bone-crushing hug.
“Charlie Spring!” Darcy exclaims as Charlie chuckles, stumbling a little as they pull back to look at his face. “How the heck are ya?!”
“Ignore them, they’ve been drinking since ten this morning,” Emma’s sweet voice follows and Charlie’s cheeks continue to ache with his smile as he looks over at her.
Emma’s dark eyes light up when he looks over at her and he manages to pass Darcy to Keith so he can pull her into a hug too, careful not to crush her pregnancy bump.
“Hi there, stranger,” she murmurs in his ear and he sighs happily.
“Hi,” he breathes, pulling away and staring at her. “Congratulations on… well, everything.”
Emma giggles, resting her hand on her bump. “Thank you. How’ve you been, Mr. Hollywood?”
He grins, letting out a faux exasperated sigh, and starts regaling all of his favourite stories from the past decade since he last saw everyone. As he does so, sipping at the wine that Nick passes back to him and grazing at the table of picky-bits, he bathes in the feeling of how normal being back in this house is. It’s like the last decade never happened, like he and Nick never left the relationship they both cherished, like they’re spending this Christmas together like before.
Charlie has to stop himself from reaching for Nick’s hand several times throughout the night, has to stop himself from pulling Nick close and feel his warmth. He’s not allowed to do that. He’s not been allowed in years.
The night passes in a blur of wine and chocolate and laughter and Charlie soon finds himself waving Nick’s Aunt Diane and Uncle Rich goodbye as if he’s their nephew, watching from the front door as they corral their stroppy teenage twins into their car. Diane waves at him, blowing kiss after kiss at him, and he grins, blowing one back. She disappears into the car with a slam of the door and the car starts driving off a second later. Charlie stays at the door, watching as the car gets smaller and smaller in the distance, and sighs once it turns a corner and disappears from view completely. His breath turns into a cloud in the dark night and he smiles, stepping back into the warm house and gently closing the front door so he doesn’t wake Emma and Darcy upstairs.
The house has reached that quiet peace. There’s still a low hum of Christmas music floating between the kitchen and the living room and Keith and Sarah are swaying in each other’s arms in their socks in the living room, giggling with each other like teenagers, when Charlie wanders into the kitchen to help Nick with the washing up. He stops in the doorway when he sees Nick not at the sink but at the breakfast bar, watching his mum and her boyfriend with a soft smile. It warms his heart, to see how happy Nick is with his life. All those days in L.A., the happy ones when he hopes everyone feels the same elation, the sad ones when he’s missing everything in his old life… Nick’s always been at the forefront of his mind. Was Nick happy? Was he in love? Was he doing everything he ever wanted?
Did he remember what he and Charlie had?
Plucking up the various empty wine glasses, he steps into the kitchen and hip-bumps Nick to break him out of his trance, sending the two into a bout of quiet chuckles. Nick takes the glasses from Charlie and smiles down at him.
“I got it, why don’t you head home?” he asks.
Charlie shakes his head with a smile of his own. “I’m good. Let me help.”
Still smiling, Nick nods and throws another gaze over to his mum and Keith. Charlie follows and smiles at the way they’ve stopped swaying and are just holding each other, sharing sweet kisses. Charlie’s never seen Sarah sad, even when his mental health was putting him and Nick through the worst hell possible, but, in these moments, he realises that he’s never seen her truly happy until now. He’s never seen the twinkle in her dark eyes before. The one that lights up her eyes whenever she looks at Keith. She’s happy. And it makes his heart grow warmer than ever before.
Nick nudges him with a soft smile and nods towards the sink. Charlie smiles too and joins him, already starting to dry the plates that were already on the draining board. The sound of the tap running seems to break Sarah and Keith out of their stupor because Sarah’s soft voice breaks the silence.
“Alexa, stop,” she says and the Christmas music stops at once, causing Nick and Charlie to look up and meet her and Keith’s smiles. “You boys go rest, the washing up can wait.”
“Oh, Sarah, it’s no trouble,” Charlie says but she waves him off.
“No, Charlie, you’re our guest. You, of all people, shouldn’t be doing the washing up. Leave it for me to do tomorrow.”
Then she steps forward to envelope him into another hug and he welcomes it gladly, feeling the safest he’s ever felt in years. She kisses his head again and pulls back to cup his face, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. He smiles.
“It was so lovely to see you again, dear,” she whispers and he nods in her grasp. “Don’t be a stranger, hm?”
“I won’t,” he replies.
She smiles wider and kisses his cheek before going over to Nick to bid him goodnight too. Keith steps over to shake his hand again.
“It was wonderful to finally meet you, Charlie,” he says.
Charlie nods. “Likewise, sir. I promise it won’t be the last time you’ll see me.”
“It better not be,” he winks and Charlie grins before they drop hands and Keith starts beckoning Sarah to bed.
Leaning against the worktop, Charlie watches as the two adults climb the stairs and Nick starts moving around the kitchen, reaching into the mug cupboard.
“Tea before you go?” he asks.
Seeing no reason to leave just yet, Charlie nods. “Yeah, sure.”
“Still milk with no sugar?”
“You remember?”
“Of course I remember,” Nick says as if it’s obvious. “You’ve always had the taste of an old man.”
“Hey!” he rebuffs with a chuckle.
Nick only smirks and clicks on the kettle. Charlie looks behind him to check if the worktop is clear and jumps up onto it, smiling back at Nick.
“So,” Nick starts conversationally. “I’ve heard about your adventures in L.A., the work you do, the meetings you have, your friends out there. But nothing about your love life. Do American men not have taste out there or…?”
Startled by Nick’s question, Charlie snorts and sniggers and shrugs when Nick looks at him. “I mean… not from lack of trying.”
“Oh?” Nick prods and Charlie raises an eyebrow at him, making Nick sigh. “Come on, we’re friends, right? We can talk about this stuff. I wanna know if anyone’s, y'know, tried to make you happy.”
Charlie bites his lip. That’s the problem. It took three somewhat serious relationships for Charlie to realise that no-one could ever make him as happy as Nick did when they were younger. No-one was attentive enough or goofy enough or clingy enough, no-one was Nick Nelson. Brad was too into how aesthetic they looked together, Callum was just in it for the sex (and it took Charlie six months to realise that all they seemed to do was fuck), Louis was just as boring as a doorknob. After Louis, Charlie realised the pattern and it’d destroyed him to the point where he’d caught himself staring at Nick’s Instagram profile, his thumb hovering over the follow button, teardrops splattering against the glass screen. Can he admit that though? He swallows.
“Some have tried. None have succeeded,” he shrugs. “Guess I’m picky. In the dating aspect, anyway.”
There. A half-truth. He nods at himself inwardly.
Nick chuckles. “I’ll tell you what, being picky is not a bad thing.”
Charlie raises his eyebrow at him.
“You seem to be talking from experience, Nicholas. I’m shocked no-one’s tried to put a ring on it.”
Nick sighs. “As you’ve put it, not from a lack of trying. I’ve had a few partners over the years but…”
Then he looks at Charlie with those big, dark eyes and the unspoken words are loud and clear. Neither of them have been able to find someone to fill the gap that the other left back at Harry Greene’s party.
There’s a different energy between them and Charlie tries to tear his gaze away so he doesn’t do anything stupid but it’s impossible. Nick still has the ability to fully captivate Charlie’s full attention without even trying, without doing anything.
He should go. He opens his mouth to excuse himself, to walk out of the Nelson house and out of Nick’s life for good.
“I think about that night all the time,” comes out instead.
Nick doesn’t move. Not to close the distance between him and Charlie, not to tend to the now-boiled kettle, not to leave Charlie alone in the kitchen. But he does speak and his voice is rougher than Charlie’s ever heard it.
“Me too.”
Something akin to hope flutters in Charlie’s chest but he bats it away because nothing’s changed. There’s still going to be a distance between them, a bigger one than a measly four hours between Leeds and Kent. He can’t have his heart broken by loving Nicholas Nelson again.
But Nick keeps talking.
“God, Char…” he starts and Charlie tears up at the old nickname. “If I’d known that… the last time I’d make love to you, the last time I’d get to hold you, the last time I’d get to kiss you… if I’d known then that that was it… I never would’ve…”
Charlie, despite everything inside him screaming at him not to, jumps off the worktop and steps towards Nick, tearful blue stuck on tearful brown. He doesn’t break the connection as he reaches up to stroke Nick’s cheek, falling head over heels for the way Nick’s beard feels against his palm.
“Tell me to stop…” he whispers.
But Nick doesn’t. His dark eyes slide shut as Charlie leans closer, closer, closer until they share breaths. Charlie lets his own eyelids fall as he closes the gap between them.
And that kiss, it feels like coming home.