Chapter Text
Young Nick
I can still recall the first time I dreamt of blue. I was five years old and my parents were arguing. My brother David was having a sleepover at a friend's house, so I had no one to go to. I did not want to cry, it would make dad angry again, then mum would defend me and there’d be another argument. I took my stuffed tiger and went to lie on my bed, hiding under the covers and closing my eyes, hugging my stuffie tight. Suddenly a peaceful feeling came over me, starting with my heart beating calmly, then my head went quiet and I saw blue eyes and heard a giggle. The giggle sounded like the best thing ever. I didn’t understand anything that was happening but I felt happy. The eyes stayed with me. It was like I was having conversations with someone, only there were no words. It was a feeling. A deep, deep feeling. It gave me comfort and made me feel loved.
******
Nick, Current Day
Nick Nelson wakes with a start at whatever time his body decides it’s had enough of the torture his brain is inflicting on it. Nightmares skittering back to the depths from whence they came.
A cold sweat drenches his body and his sad, limp dick just looks glum. He hasn’t been aroused by anyone or anything in quite some time. Not physical anyway. Not something that he can hold and touch. Only when he dreams of Blue. That’s what he’s taken to calling the mystery man inside his head. He doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t even know if he’s real. But he feels real, in these dreams. He doesn’t know his name, or if he even has one, but he does know he has these amazing, beautiful blue eyes. Like the colour of the prettiest cerulean lagoon you could ever imagine. He could get lost staring into those pools. Hence the name Blue.
He's dreamed of him since he was a kid. Blue hasn’t always been a man, he was a boy once too. As Nick’s grown, so has Blue. Not even a twitch from his dick at the thought of Blue. Only when he dreams of him. It’s like it doesn’t know what its purpose is for anymore.
Sure, he’s dated…since him, his abusive ex, but it never goes past a second date and definitely no further than kissing. He’s tempted to just tell everyone he’s ace, like his good friend Issac, but that would be a lie. Nick is bisexual. He finds most people attractive. His libido should be through the roof, but it’s been non-existent since his bastard of an ex five years ago.
Wow. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since he last laid eyes on Tom. He turned out to be completely different to the man Nick fell in love with. It had started off great. He got along well with Nick’s family and friends. His mum adored him.
Then after a couple of years the fights began. Or rather he fought, Nick tried to make it better. It began with the odd slap here or there. He’d always be apologetic afterwards and make it up to Nick. Then things would be great again until he’d score his next hit, and then the hits to Nick would start again. Tom was an addict and Nick became his favourite punching bag. It was a vicious cycle.
He knows what you’re thinking; how did such a person as large as Nick allow someone like him to do that to him? The answer is simple really; he was in love.
He really loved Tom and he believed him after each time Tom hit him that it was the last time and that he was sorry. He’d kiss Nick and make him feel good. Soothe away the pain he had inflicted on his body. The bruises were easy to explain away to other people. He played rugby. Got banged up on the field. Simple. Nick thought he was protecting the man he loved from their scrutiny. Except what he was really doing was letting him win. Letting him control him. Letting him get stronger while Nick grew weaker. He just didn’t know it at the time. This went on for three years until one day the blows wouldn’t stop. The slaps became punches and the punches became kicks. Nick’s life ebbing away with every drop of his blood staining the grey carpet. He thought he was gonna die.
His best friend Sai saved his life. He’d grown worried when Nick didn’t meet him for rugby practice like he normally would. He never lets him down, so he knew it wasn’t like Nick to just forget. He’d tried calling Nick’s mobile and knocking on the front door, eventually using the hidden spare key he kept outside in case of emergencies. He walked in to Tom kicking Nick's unconscious body, yelling at him to get up. Sai knocked Tom out with a single punch and called the emergency services.Due to the insurmountable evidence against him: domestic violence and GBH being the main factors, Sai’s witness statement, plus drug offences (he was dealing coke on the side), Tom was put away for ten years.
It took Nick ages to get his life back on track. He spent almost two months in a coma in the ICU. After he was released he was nervous, jumped and twitched at any unexpected sounds. His anxiety shot through the roof. He had to quit rugby because he was too weak and scared to play anymore. His new home didn’t feel safe, so Nick invested in heavy duty locks to keep people out, checking twice every night that they were secure.
He was just a shadow of his former self.He spent his days scrolling TikTok, hardly seeing anyone because of COVID restrictions, when one day he came across a video of a man explaining that he himself had overcome being a victim of domestic abuse and violence, and now he was teaching people how to defend themselves. He was using his platform for good. Nick immediately started following his account and watched all of his videos. He had started filming videos almost as soon as he was out of that relationship. You could see this tiny, scared looking man slowly evolve into someone strong and healthy, proving that there was life after being ground down by someone you loved.
So Nick started following the routines he showed in his videos. Ordered weights and other exercise equipment to help him make his body strong again. Nick would never be as bulky as he was when he played rugby, but he didn’t care. Nick eventually reached out to him. Told him his story and how his videos had helped Nick regain some of his strength back. Now if only it could work on his confidence around other people.
The stranger said that creating TikToks helped him with his confidence. The way he talked to the screen was like he was talking to friends. That the audience he couldn’t see beyond the screen gave him that boost to better himself. Engage with them more. Reply to their comments. Share other aspects of his life and not just the fitness part. That man is Armando Valdez-Evans, and Nick can now count him as one of his closest friends.
He encouraged Nick to start his own TikTok channel. Find a passion and share it with others. So that’s what he does now. He *ahem* ‘cooks’ for people on the internet, but in a really seductive way. He uses his body to draw people in. Make them engage with his videos. Women and men alike fawn over them. They’re shared everywhere. He’s even had famous people reacting to them. He hasn’t let it go to his head though. Nick’s still the over anxious, down to earth guy he’s almost always been. He still visits his mum every Sunday for a roast dinner and catch up. He teaches self defence classes three evenings a week. He sometimes does guest talks at universities and seminars about his experiences with DV and recovery. How the actions of someone you love changes you. How it’s hard to build trust with people again.
So yeah, Nick’s doing okay, except his dick doesn't work and his sleep is filled with horrors, unless he’s dreaming of Blue. Those are his favourite dreams.
******
Charlie, Current Day
Charlie Spring wakes at six each morning, not six o’one, not five fifty-nine, six on the dot. His alarm goes off, he runs on the treadmill for twenty minutes, then hops in the shower. All his bottles are lined up in the order in which he uses them. First he washes his unruly curls. It takes a lot of product to tame them, to make sure each coil is perfectly moisturised and never frizzy. He uses coconut shampoo, an expensive hair mask which he lets set as he washes his face, and a deep conditioner. The hair mask stays in as he performs his multi-step facial routine in the shower. Step one is exfoliating, step two is washing with oil-control cleanser, the third step happens after he exits the shower. Somewhere between rinsing off his facial cleanser and rinsing off his hair mask, Ben slams on the door and calls his name.
“Charlie! Charlie! Are you done in there?” His boyfriend, Ben, yells impatiently from the other side of the bathroom door. Charlie knows he has exactly three rounds of forceful knocks before Ben comes for him.
Ben has been Charlie’s boyfriend for almost three years now. He’s not the best of boyfriends. Charlie’s best friends, Elle and Tao, call him horrible, but he’s what Charlie knows. He’s predictable and comfortable like an old blanket, if the blanket were made of scratchy straw-like material.
He moves onto his torso once the hair conditioner is on and his face has been properly washed. This takes no time at all and he happily zooms through the behind the ears, neck, and chest part. He attacks the belly button and private areas with ferocity. One can never be too clean in those parts. Plus, Ben likes it when Charlie is especially tidy. Sometimes he inspects him for missed areas and will occasionally send him back in to shower properly until he’s acceptably clean by Ben’s standards. “Can’t have you smelling like a sewer rat, now can we, Charlie? What do you think people will say about me if my boyfriend smells like a sewer rat?”
Ben’s banging on the door once more. That’s two rounds of knocks so far. He has to hurry. Ben loses more of the little patience he has with the second knock. This is familiar and routine. Charlie knows what to expect with Ben. He can’t imagine putting the time and effort into getting to know someone entirely new. He knows he has exactly one more round of bangs at the bathroom door before Ben walks in here and grabs him out of the shower, regardless of whether he’s done or not, so he hurries.
Charlie moved onto his legs. He’s a runner, so his legs are nicely toned. His legs are probably his most favourite part of his body, mostly for two reasons. There is a direct correlation between the work he puts in and the results he sees when it comes to his legs. He runs daily, so the muscles are nicely toned. If he doesn’t run daily, if he becomes ‘lazy’ or ‘slovenly’ as Ben calls it, then his muscles atrophy and they return to their de facto spaghetti form. Ben doesn’t like spaghetti Charlie, he likes lean muscled Charlie.
He knows he’s running out of time. He can practically hear Ben breathing heavily on the other side of the door. He hurries to wash his feet. He has a system for washing them too. It requires a bar of peppermint soap and a scrubbing brush to make sure he gets every corner, every curve, every dip. Ben hates Charlie’s feet, thinks they’re disgusting. According to Ben, his big toe is too wide, the second toe unnaturally long, and all of them are too hairy. No matter, part of his routine includes shaving the hair off his toes to make them more presentable for his boyfriend. He inspects those occasionally as well. Sometimes Charlie must choose between completing his foot washing routine, or exiting the bathroom before Ben loses his patience. Sometimes he can’t win no matter what he chooses, but today is a good day. He finishes everything he needs to do, quickly rinses the conditioner out of his hair, and opens the door just as Ben is about to raise his fist to bang on it a third time. He gives Charlie a tight smile, but he doesn’t fool him. Behind that smile is a look of disappointment. It’s as if he looks forward to the times when Charlie fails. He likes delivering punishments. Ben looks at him as he breezes by in a rush, still wet from his shower. He doesn’t dare take the time to towel himself off properly. “Finally. You know I can’t be late for my client meetings.”
Ben is a lawyer. It’s only 7:15 in the morning. Both of them know he doesn’t see clients until 10 in the morning on any given day, but he loves to feel important, so Charlie nods his way and whispers an apology. He promises to do better, to be faster next time, but they both know Charlie's a liar.
Charlie has his routines. He likes his routines. Routines are comforting. They’re known. They’re predictable. They make him feel safe. Ben does not respect routines. Correction: Ben doesn’t respect Charlie’s routines. He doesn’t understand their importance. He wants Charlie to learn to be flexible. He doesn’t understand that setting goals and meeting those goals daily keeps the intrusive thoughts out of his head, or mutes them, anyway.
He swipes his deodorant under each armpit no less than three times per pit, and dresses quickly, having set aside his outfit for the day the night before. He fixes his hair with no less than three different products all meant to manage his curls and tame the frizz. His skin care routine is neatly laid out before him, each bottle in the exact order in which they will be used. First toner, then cream for his puffy eyes because he never gets enough sleep, and when he does sleep, it’s anything but restful. He follows the eye cream with a face cream with sun block because no one likes freckles or signs of premature aging. He’s only twenty nine and wants to look twenty-five for the next ten plus years, at least. He looks over at his eyeliner pencil, picks it up, puts it down again. Ben doesn’t like the way he looks with eyeliner. “You’re not a girl Charlie. Try not to embarrass me by looking like a total fag.” It’s a vile word. Ben knows Charlie hates when he uses it which means, of course, that Ben uses it around him quite often. Ben is nothing if not predictable.
Before he heads out to catch the tube into work, Charlie looks over the menu tacked to the kitchen wall. He has a meal plan that he sticks to every day without fail. Staying on that schedule helps him eat three square meals a day and keeps the OCD tendencies away. A Charlie with a schedule is a happy Charlie and a happy Charlie is also a sane one. Sometimes Ben likes to be funny by hiding his meal plan. Luckily Charlie knows all of his hiding places. He tries to get Charlie to eat things “off book” as he calls it, but it never works. Ben thinks his meal plan is boring, so they compromise. Charlie cooks for himself most nights and Ben brings home a take away. His plan does allow for takeaway and eating at restaurants. Almost every restaurant has safe foods for him to eat, but as luck would have it, none of these foods or restaurants are places that Ben would be caught stepping foot in. “I have certain standards, Charlie. You wouldn’t understand.”
Tonight he will make himself a vegetable lasagne while Ben will likely bring home curry from a restaurant a block away from their luxury flat. Ben likes curry well enough, but he orders it more than strictly necessary to taunt Charlie. He knows he gags at the smell of it. He knows he has a strong dislike of harsh odours and curry happens to be very fragrant. He knows Charlie doesn’t like the way the smell of curry permeates the walls of their home, the curtains in their living room, and the couch cushions. He also knows that as soon as he falls asleep, Charlie will spend half the night running an air purifier at maximum, opening the windows to air out the flat, and spraying the room with lavender spray before the scent leaves a permanent mark on everything they own. Because of this Ben orders curry at least once and sometimes twice per week. Sometimes Charlie hears him laughing behind their bedroom door as he scurries around, binning the trash, and cleaning up after him.
He always knows when Ben and he are going to have sex. Those are usually the most pleasant days with Ben and they serve to remind Charlie why he’s with him at all. It’s not that sex with Ben is particularly pleasurable; it’s not. Sex with Ben is just okay. He is neither gentle nor rough, neither sweet nor uncaring; he does just enough so that Charlie feels good, and sometimes it’s enough for him to have an orgasm. He says he doesn’t have enough time for Charlie to reach that point, Ben says he's too much work, too high maintenance, so most nights Charlie doesn’t get to come. Ben always climaxes.
Ben is strictly a top and although Charlie's vers, he's become a bottom by default. “Nothing is going in my arse, Charlie. I’m not that gay.” Ben isn’t always in the mood for intercourse, sometimes he likes for Charlie to go down on him instead. Sex is done when Ben comes. The ending is always the same. Ben comes, then he showers, and then it’s lights out and time to sleep. Every once in a while, they have sex during the daytime hours. During those times, the ending is also always the same. Ben comes. Ben showers. Ben watches television. In both scenarios, Charlie waits for Ben to fall fast asleep, then he sneaks to the shower. That shower is his time. That’s when he’s allowed to come, but only quietly, so that Ben isn’t woken up from his sleep, and Charlie is always careful to clean off the shower stall afterwards.
Charlie likes knowing what to expect. It makes his life very predictable, very comfortable. Sometimes he does find that it’s boring, but then he remembers that boring means safe and safe means there’s nothing to fear, so boring is good. On a ‘sex day’, Ben will send him flowers at work, send him his favourite take away meal from one of his preapproved restaurants for lunch. He will even cook Charlie’s dinner and pour him a glass or two of his favourite wine. Those are good days and Charlie looks forward to them the most. Ben takes care of all his needs during the day, and at night Charlie gets to return the favour in their bedroom, unless it’s the afternoon, then he gets to return the favour in their living room. Ben is very predictable. That’s what Charlie likes most about him. He knows what he wants and what he expects. A predictable and boring life is a safe life. Safe is good.
Charlie’s coworkers like Ben. They like him a lot. They approve of the way he takes care of Charlie. They like that he sends him flowers and surprise lunches each week. They like it when he occasionally picks up the tab at their pub outings on Thursdays. Ben always joins them even though they aren’t his coworkers and his office is on the other side of town. Ben says he needs to be there to make sure no one hits on Charlie; one- it’s important all the pub patrons know he’s taken and two- to make sure Charlie eats. His coworkers think he’s charming. They like the way he listens to them and engages with them. Ben always remembers everyone’s name even if he’s only met them once, briefly. It’s part of his charm. He’s good at making everyone feel like their time matters to him. That’s the Ben Charlie fell in love with. They like the way he ‘fusses’ over Charlie when it comes time to order food. Ben tells them he’s a picky eater and without him he’d starve. He says this playfully so everyone laughs. Charlie laughs with them. No one knows about his eating disorder or his intrusive thoughts. Ben says that’s private and that no one needs to know how needy he is. He’s there to take care of him and the less everyone knows, the better. Charlie’s coworkers are happy for them. They think they make the perfect couple.
*******
Benjamin Arnold Hope III, is his boyfriend’s keeper. His boyfriend is needy and peculiar, but he’s also incredibly good looking. He’d be lying if he said his neediness weighed on him, it doesn’t. He loves that Charlie needs him to be there for him. Sometimes he wonders where he would be without him. Charlie and Ben have been together for over two years. One day he means to make things more permanent. What is it, Beyonce says, if you like it then put a ring on it? The thing about Charlie Spring though is that he does not fancy change, not one little bit. Charlie has so many little quirks and Ben’s learned them all throughout their years together. Being with Charlie hasn’t always been easy. The thing you must know about Charlie, is that everything has an SOP or Standard Operating Procedure. Everything from how he gets ready in the morning to how he does his laundry to his meals, and bedtime routine have a procedure. Our relationship too has a procedure. They met, then dated, and exactly six months later, became boyfriends, another six months after, they moved in together, and according to Charlie’s prescribed timeline or SOP for relationships, they are due to get engaged any day now. Ben also knows that Charlie expects him to do the asking.
Charlie relies on Ben for most things. He doesn’t mind. Like he mentioned earlier, he likes feeling needed. He pays most of their household bills. He arranges for the cleaning service to do a thorough cleaning of their flat bi-weekly. Ben arranges all of their dates. He’s the one to initiate sex. Sometimes he wishes Charlie would be more proactive in their relationship. Ben often tests his limits to see if he’s capable of being flexible or whimsical or spontaneous. It doesn’t work. He’s not any of those things, but Ben tries anyway. He does it for his own good. He does it because learning to deal with change is healthy and it’s good for him. He does it at the risk of Charlie hating and resenting him for it, but Ben loves Charlie so he keeps trying anyway.
It’s his job to keep Charlie safe, safe from other people and safe from his own mind. He tracks him on his mobile phone so that he can be there at the drop of a hat if Charlie gets lost or has a sudden panic attack on the platform waiting for the tube. It has happened before and ever since then Ben has the Find My Friends app on his phone so that he can track his movement. He feels better knowing Charlie is safe at all times. He hates thinking of Charlie having a panic attack and not having him around to help. Charlie doesn’t know about the app on his phone, of course. He’d never consent to it, but it’s for his own wellbeing. Ben does it because he loves him.
**********
Elle tells Tao not to do or say anything, and he knows she is probably right, but he can’t take much more. Ken is such a knob and Tao can see Charlie becoming more distant every week. Ken walks around like he is the king of the world and Charlie’s saviour. His name is Ben by the way, but Elle and Tao think of him as a doll, so they call him Ken, with his perfect hair, his perfect teeth and his perfect body. Ken decides everything. Charlie can’t go out with them anymore because he needs to work the next day. They used to go clubbing on Thursday and go to college or work on Friday. Charlie doesn’t like to eat out because of his issues with food. Fuck you Ken, they have been friends since they were ten years old. You can wake Tao up in the middle of the night and he’d be able to prepare one of Charlie’s safe foods.
They kissed, you know, Tao and Charlie. Charlie suspected he was gay when they were twelve and Tao offered to be a guinea pig. Stupid, really. It made them realise that Tao was definitely straight and Charlie did not want to kiss anyone just yet. Charlie was there when Tao’s father died, being present for Tao every single day. He stayed over and helped Tao cope. He was Tao’s lifeline then. He begged his parents for weeks and did all the chores in the Spring household, just so they’d let Tao go with them to Spain for the summer holidays.
He was there when Charlie was so badly bullied that he became a mere shell of who he used to be. He was there when he slit his wrists. Well, not there when he did it, but the whole aftermath of it. He was there when he started to get better. He was there when Charlie made the rugby and wrestling teams. Charlie was there when Tao was head over heels with Elle and made an absolute idiot of himself. And then when they left school they were still there for each other.
They’ve seen each other’s darkest days and now Tao doesn’t even get to speak to Charlie on the phone. He hates Ken. And he misses Charlie.
**********
Charlie finishes off translating the last document for the day from English into Spanish, sends it to his supervisor, and logs off for the evening. He works for a major international translations firm in London. At any given moment in the office, one can walk down the corridor and hear someone speaking Hebrew, Japanese, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Russian. They translate documents from English into those various languages. They also make court appearances either in person or over the telephone when a translator is needed. They are always busy and they all have plenty of job security. Pay is fair, the hours are somewhat long, but the vacation time is spectacular. Charlie and his coworkers like to joke that the big wigs don’t like to fork over cash, but they love paying in PTO and sick days. They have all of August free, plus two weeks off for December holidays, another two weeks in Spring, around the Easter holidays, the company observes all bank holidays, and everyone always gets their birthday off from work. Overall, Charlie is pretty happy. He likes his coworkers. Ben likes Charlie’s coworkers too which is a bonus. There were times when Charlie had to leave a job behind because Ben didn't approve of how his coworkers ‘treated’ Charlie. He never really understood Ben’s objections, but when Ben settles in for an argument, he rarely gives in. Charlie accepts that this is Ben’s way of taking care of him, looking out for him. Charlie knows Ben loves him and only wants the best for him, so he usually gives-in. After all, If it weren’t for Ben objecting to his last place of employment, then he never would have found the current firm he’s in. Charlie is happy there and it’s all thanks to Ben, really. Charlie has this saying that Tao and Elle loathe, but still remains true, ‘Happy Ben, Happy Life’. Charlie expects that any day now he’ll need to amend the saying to ‘Happy Husband, Happy Life’.
Charlie packs all of his things for the day and walks out of the office to catch the tube back home. It’s getting dark out. He puts his airpods in, listens to the latest indie band as he quickly walks to the station. Charlie is happily bopping along in his own little world when he feels someone knock into him from behind. It catches him off guard. Charlie’s phone goes flying out of his hand and one of his airpods pops out of his ear, bouncing onto the floor before him. He turns, irritated by the disruption of his evening commute routine. This disruption was unplanned. He whirls around ready to give whomever a talking to about watching their step.
“Watch your step!” Charlie barks out while also trying to retrieve the mobile phone lying on the ground next to the one AirPod.
“You wot mate?! Maybe you should look where you’re going. Fucking pansy-ass man.”
Isaac is busy reading on the train platform and looks up from his book at the sound of raised voices. They’re coming from the end of the train station where the ticket machines are located. He quickly saves his page and places it in his bag before heading in that direction. If someone is getting hurt then it’s only fair that he steps in to deter it. He may be a lover more than a fighter, but he still doesn't like seeing people getting unnecessarily hurt.
Charlie looks up startled by the thin, yet menacing, voice and sees a child, basically. He’s young, not even eighteen. He’s wearing black jeans and a ripped t-shirt. His face looks mean and he’s spitting mad. Charlie wants to yell and scream at this child to go back home to mummy and daddy, but the angry child is brandishing a knife. Charlie freezes, his heart rate kicks up, and he says none of those things. The barely man-child is waving the small blade around carelessly and all Charlie can hear is the sound of blood rushing through his ears and his heart beating erratically in his chest. This wasn’t part of the evening’s plans. He was meant to be showering in preparation for Ben’s attention tonight. Charlie briefly thinks of Ben and how he’ll be upset if Charlie is late.
“What do you want?” That’s all Charlie can manage to say to this man-child with the knife and the angry face.
“How about you give me all your money for the trouble, bruv, yeah? Cash or you get the slash.”
Charlie almost wants to laugh at the man-child. He isn’t very creative, is he? Charlie’s about to disappoint him though, Ben keeps all the credit cards. Charlie only has about twenty quid along with identification and his Oyster card in his wallet.
“Sorry, but I don’t have anything. Just a twenty.” He shoves the cash into the hand not holding the knife and hopes that the man-child goes away. “No one carries cash anymore, bruv.” Charlie mocked the child’s use of the word in an act of unmistakable stupidity and defiance. He glances down at his phone on the ground, hoping it doesn’t occur to the child to take it. That and his airpods are the only thing of value that he carries, well, and his wallet. Ben bought Charlie a Prada wallet for his birthday, but the wallet doesn’t interest the man-child, just its contents which aren’t many.
The youth sucks his teeth and snatches the money up. “Fucking right. Don’t worry about your jankey assed phone. That make is ancient. Won’t even get me a tenner. Stupid old people and their outdated shit.” The youth sniffed and his eye twitched a bit, he was clearly intoxicated on something. “Don’t fucking come at me bro.” He warned, despite neither of them moving.
Charlie stared after the tweaked out man-child and said nothing. He stood very still, waiting on him to leave so he could quietly fall apart. He nodded and nothing more.
“What’s going on here?” Isaac demanded, coming into sight of the two men. There was a strung out looking kid threatening an older man with a knife. The kid was constantly sniffing and his eyes wouldn’t stay in one place for long. “I suggest you put that away, young man and go home. I’ve already called the police.” Isaac threatened, despite doing no such thing.
Charlie watches the man-child run away and still can’t find the strength to look at the kind stranger beside him. He wants to move. He wants to say thank you. He wants to pick up the airpod and mobile phone still lying on the ground, but his limbs weren’t listening to his brain. He stood there and shook. His arms trembled and he suddenly felt ice cold despite the warmer weather.
“Hey? Are you okay? My name is Isaac.” Isaac slowly approaches the frozen man. Isaac stops to pick up the man’s phone, which is now sporting a large spidery crack in one corner, and the dropped ear bud. “Here, let’s sit on this bench for a while.” Isaac suggests, gently placing a hand on the man’s arm.
Charlie's first reaction to the contact is to jump. He doesn’t want to be touched, but then he sits on the bench and begins to fold in on himself. Nothing happened to him, absolutely nothing. He’s not sure why he’s reacting that way, but he’s still shaking. He grabs his phone and airpod and belatedly says sorry and thank you. “B-b-ben. I n-need Ben.”
Bless this man. He seems like he could have special needs. He shouldn’t be left alone without a carer, Isaac thinks to himself. “Is Ben your supervisor? Did you get separated from him?” He asks softly, not knowing if he has a learning disability or something a bit more specific.
Charlie was still trembling, but one thing was clear, the kind stranger thought he was disabled. That thought alone helped him snap out of his shocked stupor. “What? Fuck you!” Through shaking fingers, he managed to click on Ben’s number. It’s the only one listed in his emergency contacts. Ben always told him, he’s the only one Charlie needs, the others can’t be relied upon.
Isaac sits back in shock. Wow, rude much? “Well there’s no need to be rude. I only asked a question. I can see you’re okay. I’ll leave you to it.” Isaac huffs, pulling his book back out of his bag and walking back towards where he was originally sat on the platform.
The call won’t connect. Charlie’s frustrated. The stranger begins to walk away, Charlie’s instantly assaulted by feelings of guilt. He manages to find his voice again at that moment. “I’m sorry. Isaac, is it? I’m Charlie. I just need my boyfriend, he makes everything better.” Charlie feels a little lost. He’s off his schedule. He’s off his routine. He already missed the tube home and will need to wait for the next one. Ben doesn’t like it when Charlie’s late. Charlie will be late getting home.
Isaac stops in his tracks and looks back at the stranger -Charlie. He does look a little pathetic, if he’s being honest with himself. Isaac heaves a sigh and makes an about turn, walking back to him. “What can I do to help?” he asks, sitting next to him again. Isaac thinks Nick would be proud of him for putting himself out there a bit.
“Can I use your phone to call my boyfriend, Ben. He’ll want to know why I’m late. He doesn’t like it when I’m late and I lost part of my allowance for the week. He’ll think I’ve spent it on something frivolous like one of those Cava lattes or something. He just needs to know what happened, please?”
“Is this Ben your boyfriend or your keeper?” Isaac blurts without thinking. “Sorry, I’m ace and I don’t really understand relationships, but I’ve never heard of someone giving their partner an allowance.”
“He takes care of me. I need looking after sometimes, that’s what Ben says.” Charlie’s not sure why he feels like he can tell this perfect stranger all about Ben, but something about him makes him easy to talk to. “Can I call him from your phone, please? He’ll worry. He’ll think something has happened to me, well, I mean it has, but I’m alright now, I guess. Thank you for that.”
Isaac’s not usually one for handing over his belongings to random strangers, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Charlie. He looks like one strong gust of wind would blow him over. Isaac tugs his phone out the front pocket of his dungarees and quickly unlocks it, handing it over.
Charlie looks over at Isaac and gives him a small smile. “Thanks. Appreciate it. “ He dials Ben’s number. Ben picks up the first ring. He sounds both irritated and worried.
“Who is this? I’m trying to keep this line clear for my boyfriend.”
“Ben.” Charlie’s voice cracks at hearing him on the other end of the line and then the tears start to fall. “Can you come get me please? Get the car out of the garage? I can’t take the tube by myself.”
“Charlie? Whose phone is this? What’s happened? God, can’t I trust you to even catch a train now?”
Charlie sniffled. He went to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, and was aware enough to look a little embarrassed before the stranger. Isaac was looking at him with sympathy.. Charlie is well aware of how pathetic he must look right now. “I just need you, please. Some kid took my money and he had a knife and I don’t feel safe. Can you pick me up? You love taking the Porsche out anyway, it’ll give you an excuse to take it out.”
“A knife?! Jesus Charles. Why do you always manage to get yourself into these things? Tell me where you are?”
Charlie gives Ben his location and returns the phone to Isaac.
“Is he on his way?” Isaac asks softly, taking the phone back and offering a clean tissue to Charlie. “I can sit with you until either my train arrives or he does, whichever comes first.”
Charlie looks over at the stranger and it finally registers how it all looks or how it might look to Ben. He doesn’t like it when men get too close. I don’t want an argument tonight. I give Isaac a small smile and thank him. “I’m fi-fine. Thanks for your help, but I should just wait for him on my own. He doesn’t like it when strangers get too friendly.”
“Makes sense.” Isaac nod’s, not liking the fact that he’ll be by himself again, but he’s adamant about waiting up top. “Erm, before you go, take this.” Isaac hands over one of Nick's business cards that he keeps on me for when people ask about classes. “My friend runs self defense classes three evenings a week. The first week is free and then you’ll have to work out a rate with him. He’s super nice though.”
Charlie gives Isaac a small, tired small. He knows what’s expected. He wants to be polite, so he smiles and says thank you. He immediately pockets the card with zero intention of ever taking the class or contacting the ‘super nice’ friend Isaac mentioned. Charlie looks at the ‘super nice’ friend’s photo gracing the card and decides that Ben would lose his mind if he ever saw it. It would cause a row between them and Ben would accuse Charlie of cheating. Charlie recalls the one time a fit man dared glance in his direction while they were enjoying a pint at a pub. Ben felt the need to address the man’s ‘staring’ problem. Needless to say, they haven’t been back at that pub since. Charlie accepted the card, but he also accepted that he would never get within one thousand feet of this ‘super nice’ friend, which is fine. He has Ben. Ben’s coming to get him now. He doesn’t need anyone else. Ben takes good care of him.
“You should eat something sweet too. It’ll help with the shock.” Isaac calls to Charlie, as he starts walking towards the escalator that’ll take him back to the surface.
Charlie stands in the warm autumn air and looks all around him. He stands underneath a street lamp. It’ll make it easier for Ben to find him. He’s a little jumpy as strangers walk quickly by. Any one of them could be the man-child returning for more. Charlie shivers a bit even though the air is warm and he has a thick jumper on. It’s a nice jumper that Ben bought him last Christmas. He likes to buy Charlie nice clothes, says it makes him happy to see Charlie wearing nice things. Charlie thinks it makes him feel chuffed to know he can afford to dress him in nice things. Either way, Charlie always looks good. He likes it when Ben takes care of him.
London traffic is absolutely shit this time of the evening. Too many taxis and double deckers blocking up the lanes. Ben can’t risk his Porsche getting scratched by any of the commoners' transport. God damnit Charlie! Ben can’t believe he’s gotten himself into this situation again. He sighs and taps his fingers against the supple leather of the steering wheel. He loves Charlie, but he really needs to take better care of himself. Ben feels that he can’t keep dropping everything to rescue him at any given moment. Ben finally sees the station up ahead and there Charlie is, standing under a lamppost, shivering. He looks so tiny, like a little twig. He really needs to bulk out a bit more. He’s too bony. Ben pulls the car to a stop beside him and flings the door open from the inside. “Get in.” Ben snaps.
Charlie watches Ben's car as it pulls up beside him. He’s scanning Ben’s face trying to determine his mood, trying to figure out what sort of night this might turn out to be. Ben opens the door and the smell of rich leather billows out. Ben gets a new car every two years so his car always has the new car smell and he never has to invest in maintenance. Charlie can already sense his anger, but this time he did nothing wrong, so he risks angering him further by telling him so. “It’s not my fault.” Charlie reaches for the front panel to kick on the seat warmer and to raise the temperature on my side of the car. What Charlie really wants… needs is for Ben to hold him, but he’s not a hugger. Charlie sits on his hands and hunches his shoulders over to make himself small. He’s trying to cocoon himself into his jacket. It’s a sad replacement for a hug..
“Your shoes better not be dirty.” Ben eyes the footwell where his shoes squeak against the floor mat. “So what happened this time? It’s barely been six months since your last panic attack on the tube. Did someone smell too much? Or were they too loud for you?” He rolls his eyes as he turns the Porsche around to get back out onto the main road.
Charlie sighs heavily. When Ben is in a mood, he likes to exaggerate things. Charlie had one, just one panic attack and somehow Ben always manages to bring it up. Charlie rubs the bottom of his shoes on the small carpet by his feet. He knows Ben will have a hell of time cleaning it up later. He doesn’t care. “He had a knife, Ben. I could have been stabbed. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for Isaac. At least he was around to help me!” he says it accusingly. He knows Ben can’t be physically with him all the time. He has a job and it’s clear across town, but sometimes Charlie just needs Ben to be more present.
“Who’s Isaac?” Ben demands sharply.
Ben has that face. Charlie knows that face all too well. It’s the ‘This little fucker better not be cheating on me.’ face. Charlie freezes. He knew the moment the man’s name left his lips that he should have lied. Is it too late to call him Isabel? Probably. Charlie chose a different tactic. “He was a kind, older gentleman who lent me his phone at the tube station.” He lied, hoping that this Isaac fellow never found out that Charlie had aged him about 40 years. “He sent the mugger on his way, but not before the mugger pushed me and cracked my phone, I think it’s broken by the way. The mugger also took all of my money. I need more for the rest of the week. I also need a new iphone, Ben. The mugger called my phone ancient. What will people say if they see your boyfriend with a dated and now cracked beyond repair phone?”
Ben clenches his jaw and breathes deeply. He doesn't want to get angry and risk anything happening to the Porsche. “Charles, brand new iPhones don’t just fall from the sky. I only bought you that one last year for your birthday. You need to be more careful with your things. I will give you the money for your train travel, but it’s coming out of your grocery allowance. Looks like it’ll be budget fruit and veg for you for next week.” Ben doesn't like being mean, but how else will Charlie learn to be more careful?
Charlie sits in furious silence. He hates being treated this way and there’s only one way for him to express his displeasure with Ben’s response. He’s not putting out tonight. No way. “Thank you for buying me lunch today, Ben, but I have a headache. I’m not in the mood for anything tonight.” Charlie looks at him pointedly. Ben knows exactly what Charlie means.
Ben pulls into the underground parking and turns off the Porsche. He turns to face Charlie, hoping a little charm would defrost his coldness a little. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m sorry I got mad, okay. I just worry about you Charles. You need to be more careful please. I work hard for the things we have. I can’t just spend it on expensive things willy-nilly. I’ll get you a new phone tomorrow, but you won’t get it until the evening. Do you think you can manage without one for a day?” He strokes Charlie’s curls and presses a gentle kiss to his temple.
Ben knows Charlie loves it when he strokes his hair. It always feels so damn good. Charlie closes his eyes and leans into Ben’s touch. Ben doesn’t touch him like this often, so Charlie relishes the feeling no matter how fleeting. Charlie doesn’t like being without a phone though. What if something were to happen on his way to work? Charlie’s phone is like his safety blanket. It’s comforting to have. Charlie wants to convince Ben to get him a phone right away. “Ben,” he tries for a soft tone as he lays a hand on Ben’s upper thigh, “a new phone now, please. All you have to do is click a few buttons on your current phone and I can pick up the order on my way to work tomorrow. I promise to be extra careful with this one. I’ll even buy one of those bounce cases to protect it.” Charlie looks over at Ben enticingly. Blue eyes or not, he has a way of making them smolder regardless of colour.
“Charlie,” Ben sighs, “I just told you I’ll get you a new one tomorrow. Be patient. You can do without a phone until tomorrow evening.”
Charlie releases his hold on Ben's thigh and storms out of the car. He knows better than to slam the door shut, but he does close it forcefully. Charlie stomps toward the lift and presses the up button and waits. Charlie knows he’s being difficult, but sometimes Ben treats him like a child. It’s easier for Charlie to throw a fit over a few hours without a phone than it is for him to deal with his feelings of fear and dread over the events of the night.
Ben sighs and hangs his head. Looks like Charlie’s sticking by his word and Ben won’t be getting lucky tonight. Ben hates it when Charlie behaves like such a toddler. The man is throwing a fit because he can’t get what he wants. Ben stays in his car a little longer allowing Charlie to stew in their luxury high rise flat for a bit. Hopefully by the time he gets up there Charlie will have cooled off a bit and they can have a civil conversation. Ben inspects the passenger footwell for dirt and sees a few crunched up leaves where Charlie’s feet had been. Honestly. Charlie has no consideration for the nicer things in life!
The lift finally opens with a ding. Charlie steps inside. Clearly, Ben will not be joining him in the lift tonight. He presses the button for the top floor. Only the best for Ben, that’s what his doting mum said when she bought him this place. The top floor affords them the best views of London. It really is beautiful at night, seeing it all lit up from above. They have tall windows in their living room. The lift finally arrives and Charlie is finally able to begin his evening rituals. It’s a little later than usual, but keeping to his routine will ensure a good night’s sleep, in theory. Normally, Charlie would call Geoff, his therapist, after a night like this, but he stopped seeing him months ago. Ben insisted that Charlie didn’t need Geoff. Charlie had Ben, after all. Charlie had been seeing Geoff for his eating disorder and OCD since he was a teenager. Ben said that Charlie had already learned all the strategies there is to know at this point and that seeing Geoff was a waste of their money. ‘How will we be able to afford a house one day Charles, if you just throw money away like this, huh?’ Charlie can still hear Ben’s condescending voice in his head.
Charlie grabs a protein bar for dinner and eats it while he makes himself a cup of soothing tea. It’s late and he doesn't have the energy for anything more. Charlie begins his bedtime routine immediately after he finishes his drink. He doesn't want Ben to think he has changed his mind about tonight.
Ben finally gets the last of the debris out of the footwell and locks up the Porsche, securing it with a wheel lock and a dust cover. Can’t risk any unsavories trying to get away with it.
The lift doors ding open and he steps out onto their floor. Thankfully they only share it with one other resident. He lets himself in and sees that Charlie has already put his laundry on to wash. Thanks for waiting for my clothes Charles. He huffs and tidies away the crumbs from Charlie’s protein bar. Honestly, Charlie barely eats enough to keep a mouse alive, and does he want them to get rats?! All these crumbs and bits laying around on the surfaces. Ben tuts and pulls out the cleaning supplies. No doubt in his mind that Charlie will come back out after to go back over everything Ben has already done.
Ben walks into the bedroom, but Charlie isn’t in there. He’s tempted to go and turn the hot tap on in the kitchen sink to make Charlie’s shower go cold, but he’ll only bitch about it and throw another tantrum, so Ben refrains. He gets undressed and slides beneath the covers, waiting for the man-child to grow up a bit, and act like a reasonable adult.
Charlie’s nightly routine consists of a quick shower, using a moisturising face wash, followed by a retinol based moisturizer. He then moves onto flossing, brushing his teeth and finishes with a minty oral rinse. Charlie never neglects his hair. He uses a special scalp oil and the occasional hair bonnet to keep his curls supple. When he’s done, he hears Ben ‘cleaning’ in the kitchen. Ben refuses to use the organic cleaners Charlie makes and instead opts for the same tried and true cancer causing cleaners that have been around since the 1950’s. Ben knows how Charlie feels about those death traps. Not only do they have a strong odour, but they also harm the environment. After Ben is done, CharlieI walks into the kitchen, opens a window, turns on the air purifier, grabs his own homemade cleaning solution scented with essential oils, and a reusable cloth and tries to scrub away the cancerous agents Ben has left behind. Charlie is sure his efforts amount to squat, but he tries anyway. When he’s done, he uses the bottle of hand-moisturizer in the kitchen to soften his hands. Charlie then remembers to switch his laundry to the dryer before heading into the bedroom. Charlie has a ritual for getting into bed as well. He fluffs the pillows no less than five times on both sides. He sets his alarm clock for six o’clock sharp. Yes, he still uses an old fashioned alarm clock with a back-up battery. It has never failed him. Charlie pulls back the sheets, climbs in, sits up in bed and grabs his book to read. He reads exactly ten pages every night just before turning out the lamp light on his side of the room, donning his eyemask, and closing his eyes. Tonight is no different.
“You’re ungrateful. You know that?” Ben says to Charlie’s turned back. He’s not asleep yet. It always takes him an hour to filter through his thoughts until he’s in a good place mentally to go to sleep. “I go out of my way to come and rescue you tonight. I had to brave nighttime traffic in London. Then not only do you demand new things from me, you make my car dirty, before throwing a tantrum like a toddler and giving me the silent treatment. Tell me where exactly I’ve done wrong by you this evening, Charles.”
Charlie is lying in bed with his back to Ben. He sighs, lifts his eye mask to say one thing only before setting it back in place.. “You never asked me if I was okay.” He pulls the eye mask back down and tries to chase sleep.
“Clearly you are, otherwise we’d be in a hospital right now. Stop being such a child, Charles. Honestly, you always act so entitled. Like the world owes you something. You need to get over it already.”
Charlie refuses to rise to the bait. He spends most of the night chasing sleep that doesn’t come until three in the morning. Most of the night, he sees a glinting knife in his peripheral and hears Ben laughing. He knows they’re only dreams, but they make his sleep fitful. His anxiety over the night’s events are filtering through his brain now that it’s quiet.
**********
Charlie, Friday Morning
It’s Friday morning, Charlie knows there’s no way he'll make it out of the shower by the third round of knocks from Ben. It will be a bad day for Charlie. As predicted, Ben is yanking Charlie out of the shower. Water is spraying everywhere and getting the floor wet. He doesn’t seem to mind. Charlie never made it to his foot wash routine, and his hair mask is still in. No matter. Charlie always has contingency plans. Fuck, even his contigency plans have contigency plans. Welcome to the brain of an anxious person. Charlie’s pretty sure his anxiety has anxiety.
Charlie dresses and moves onto Plan B. Charlie has a plan in place for mornings like this, mornings when he’s not fast enough for Ben’s liking in the shower. Charlie has a gym membership to a decent gym around the corner from his office building. He grabs a bag of gym gear and heads out the door without breakfast. The gym not only has decent showers, they also have a smoothie bar. Ben knows about the gym membership. Of course he knows, he sees the bill on the credit card statement each month. Mornings like this make Charlie want to scream at him, ‘See, I can be flexible!’. Instead Charlie says nothing to Ben. He knows Ben just wants to get a rise out of him. Charlie arrives at the gym but he doesn't stop to use the equipment, instead he heads straight for the showers to finish his routine. The gym staff know Charlie. They know he has a membership mostly for the express use of their steam showers, sauna, and spa. They also know to expect Charlie at least twice a week.
On his way to his office, smoothie in hand, Charlie stops by the bank. Tori convinced Charlie to open his own account when he first moved in with Ben. She called it part of his contingency plan since he doesn’t have any bank cards associated with his and Ben’s joint accounts. He never meant to keep the account a secret, not exactly, but somehow the topic just never arose. The only people with access to the account are Tori and himself. He’s pretty sure Tori adds funds into that account from time to time. He’s never asked and she has never said anything, but the account is more robust than his mental calculations have accounted for. It’s days like this that he’s glad he listened to her. He has all the account information memorised. Any bank correspondence goes to Tori at her home address.
Charlie walks into the bank, goes up to the teller who clearly doesn’t appreciate that he has brought a drink inside, and he withdraws some cash. A portion of Charlie’s paycheck is deposited into this account each month while the remainder goes into the account he shares with Ben. Ben doesn’t know. Ben thinks Charlie is being grossly underpaid at his current place of employment. He’s also unaware of Charlie’s annual bonuses because those go straight into his own account. Ben makes three fold what Charlie makes so Charlie feels zero guilt about any of this. He doesn't know why he’s engaged in this deception for this long, but sometimes he has bad days like this one. Sometimes Charlie needs things Ben won’t allow. Money can’t be all for groceries and bills, sometimes Charlie needs a nice treat. He knows enough to be careful though. Ben’s allowance is never overly generous. Charlie has to be careful with how often he ‘treats’ himself or Ben will catch on. Charlie withdraws some funds and walks next door to buy himself a burner phone. It’s nothing fancy. This now becomes part of his contingency plan stash. Charlie has duplicates of many things. He has a bag he keeps in his office just in case. If you ask Charlie what that ‘just in case’ may look like, he wouldn't be able to answer you. He knows some of the things he does are strange and that an outsider may never understand what it’s like living in his brain, but he does them anyway.
Charlie always has a few phone numbers memorised for safety. He has Ben’s memorised, but he also has Tori’s number memorised, as well Elle and Tao’s. Those are enough for now. Charlie pays for the phone with the cash he just withdrew when he notices a card peeking out from the folds of his wallet. It’s the card Isaac gave him last night. He looks at it a moment. It reads, Nick Nelson, gym trainer, self-defense instructor. He stares at the image peering back at him, even through the photo, everything about this man appears warm, friendly, inviting. He almost feels familiar. The cashier is waiting and losing his patience. Charlie stuffs the card back into wallet with a huff. He’s sure he and Ben will patch things up, and then Ben’ll propose, and he will, of course, say yes, and it’ll all be fine. Ben has been in his life for more than two years now. He’s predictable. Charlie knows what to expect with him. Even when Ben’s an arse, he’s a predictable arse and that’s comforting.
Charlie walks out of the store, phone in his grip. He pulled the card out of his wallet to give it one last look before binning it. That card will cause him more trouble than it’s worth with Ben. Before tossing it, something about the address catches his eye. The self defence classes are held on the bottom floor of his office building. He never bothered to notice what other businesses the building hosted. Charlie is usually in a rush to scan his badge and take the lift to his floor, but today when Charlie enters his office building, he pauses. He scans his badge and instead of turning right to the lifts, he turns left to a studio space. It has floor to ceiling windows, mats on the floor, speakers on the upper corners, and walls displaying posters of various techniques. There were weights and several punching bags. It was still early in the morning, but the studio lights were on and meditative music was playing through the speakers. One lone man stood in the center of the room. He had his back to Charlie. Charlie could tell, even from that distance, that the man must have been Nick, the very one gracing the business card Isaac had given him. Nick was going through a series of what looked like tai chi movements to start his morning. Nick was tall and although he was muscular, he made the movements look effortless and graceful. Charlie was transfixed. Nick wore loose fitting track pants and a vest that showed off his biceps. Charlie stood before the tall glass window, his smoothie straw barely gracing his bottom lip as he stared at the sight before him. Nick continued moving through his poses and when he turned, he saw Charlie standing there staring. Charlie was spooked out of his own meditative experience and quickly walked away embarrassed. He was there to work, not ogle strangers.
**********
Nick, Friday Morning
You ever get the feeling you’re being watched? Well Nick did while he performed some tai chi in his studio to help calm himself down after a particularly nasty sleep filled with night terrors.
He’d used the method for a couple of years now as a meditation tool and to help regulate his heartbeat when it felt like the vital organ was going to pound out of his chest.
He sensed it first. That feeling of unease where the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He tried to breathe through it. Told himself that he was the only one in the room. It was locked and no one could get in. But the sensation wouldn’t go away. It felt like it was getting worse. The room suddenly felt like it was being sucked of oxygen. Nick didn’t like it. He spun on his heel and clocked a slim man watching him from the other side of the window. Glossy black curls, dark eyes and a straw paused halfway into his mouth. He was smartly dressed with a satchel slung across his chest.
Their eyes met through the glass and an instant blush rose to the strangers cheeks before he quickly rushed away. Nick had never seen the dark eyed man before, but he couldn’t help but feel like he knew him.
**********
David, Sunday Mid-Morning
David wakes up to a tickle in his nose. A head full of messy red hair attached to a pixie-like face and a petite body has found itself naked and splayed across his body. A patch of sunlight has also made its way through the slats of the blinds and is currently dancing on David's face. He lifts the arm that isn’t currently being weighed down by the heavier than expected pixie in his arms and drapes it across his eyes. This isn’t his room. He can tell by the way the light hits the room and his face, the scent of overly sweet perfume in the air, and the fact that they are covered by cotton bed sheets. David’s room is dark and he prefers satin sheets to cotton.
David can’t recall the pixie’s name. He can tell by the way his mouth feels dry and like it’s full of cotton balls that it’s the result of too many shots of Patron. He wiggles his toes to regain feeling in his lower extremities. Not sure how he's meant to slip out without waking the red headed pixie, but he does manage to slowly extricate his trapped arm, then slowly rolling his torso and untangling his legs using incremental movements. Twenty minutes later, he’s free and standing naked in her bedroom. He takes a look around trying to quietly locate his clothing and wonders why everything is pink and lacy. Pixie’s room looks like a Barbie doll lost a battle with a Disney Princess and used glitter bombs as their primary source of weaponry. He was happy, not for the first time, that he had a brother instead of a sister. The current assault to his senses was overwhelming. David quickly dressed, quietly escaped the pixie’s room, and tiptoed across her flat while managing not to run into any flatmates. This was a good morning? Afternoon? for him, until he walked outside and realised he had no idea where he was and that he needed a ride to his flat. Fuck. He digs his mobile out of his pocket and calls his brother, Nick. They don’t have the best of relationships, just a mutual trauma bond when it comes to having survived their father, Stephane. Though they’re not close, he does know that Nick wouldn’t leave him out there to dry. God, he needs paracetamol and water, badly. His head is beginning to pound through his skull and the sun is too much for him. The phone is ringing on the other end, but it can’t be helped, David turns his head and vomits in the bushes outside the small apartment building. Hopefully the pixie won’t know it was him, but then again, who cares. He probably won't see her again.
*David calling*
Nick wants to decline. He’s busy chopping onions to mix into his grated coconut. David never does a social call, never asks if he’s doing ok, or if he’s doing anything. Never asks anything about Nick whatsoever really. His own brother. Nick thinks David is a twat, but he is there when he needs him.
“David, what do you want, I am cooking.” Nick picks up the call without saying hello first.
David wipes the spittle from his mouth and winces. He can still taste sick in his teeth. He feels nasty. Finally his brother answers the call. “Nick, lil’ bro, be a good brother and find me, please? I feel like utter shit and I need a lift to my flat.”
“Ubers exist, David. And they’ll be much quicker. Where are you?”
David looks all around him for context clues. He walks to the closest street corner and reads the signs out loud to Nick. “Do you know where that is? I got black out drunk last night, Nicky. Throw me a bone, please. Help your big bro out.”
Nick couldn’t help but laugh. What an arse, nearing thirty-five and still behaving like a college stud. “It’s about half an hour. You owe me. Go find a corner shop and buy water and paracetamol. If you ever get married, the speech is going to be wonderful. You give a whole new meaning to the ‘walk of shame’.” Nick sometimes hated David, but he also loved him too. He was such a player, dating everything that had a pulse. Well, not really dating. He shagged anything that had a pulse.
David gave a huge sigh of relief. The day was turning out for him. He managed to walk away from the mystery pixie with the sailor grip unscathed and now Nick was doing him a solid. He loved his brother, even if he did make questionable life choices, especially when it came to choosing partners. It was something David felt he’d never understand. “Thanks, Nicky. I do owe you one. I’ll send you my location when I reach the shop. David ended the call and was starting to walk toward the store when a door slamming behind him caught his attention. Oh! Fuck me!
“Forget something Davey?” The pixie-like woman holds on tight to his suit jacket and tie. David stood out last night because who wears a full suit to a club? Pixie giggles as she hides his belongings behind her after he lunges for them. “Nuh-uh, play nice Davey.”
David looks her in the eye at the sound of his name and he already knows he’s fighting a losing battle with the pixie girl, whose name he cannot recall. She’s pretty at least, but definitely not his usual choice of nightly conquests. She’s pure muscle and even in her petite frame, nothing to scoff at. He pleads with her. “Please return my jacket. That’s Armani you’re touching. My brother will be here to pick me up any moment now. I have to go. Been a pleasure, now, jacket please?” He holds out his hand and waits, tapping his foot. He’s not sure why he’s bothering. It’s an older jacket, from last season anyway. He can always buy a new one. David looks at pixie girl and fruitlessly hopes for the best. Maybe he still has whatever charms she fell for last night. He tries and puts on his best smile, even through the pounding headache and a stomach full of churning acid.
Pixie slides her arms into the silk lined suit jacket. It’s soft and smooth against her bare skin. “Ooh, this is lush. I think I’ll keep it.” She teases, wrapping the expensive material around her bare muscly arms and satin-clad torso.
His charms must have worn off. David can’t blame her. It is a nice jacket. David tried for blunt honesty instead. “Listen, babe. I’m hungover. My head is splitting. I just got sick in your bushes. I really don’t have time for games, so…” he looks at her expectantly, waiting for the woman to stop playing games.
“What’s my name?” she asks, knowing full well he doesn’t remember it. He was pretty wasted last night.
And that’s when David truly understands that he’s well and truly fucked. Like was she even worth his time and effort last night? He has no idea, because he was too drunk to remember any of it. Either way, he’s pretty sure he’s leaving without his jacket. He makes peace with that fact. “Not a fuckin’ clue. Guess you’re just not that memorable. Toodles.” He gives her a small wave that ends in a middle finger as he walks towards the shop on the corner. No one would ever mistake David for a gentleman.
Nick is almost ready to leave home, putting on his vans when his phone rings again. ‘Mama Mia’ is the ringtone going off, announcing that Sarah is calling him. “Mum, I can’t talk right now, I’m just about to go and pick up David.”
“Pick him up from where, love?”
“Atlantic road, mum.”
“Oh. How nice of you Nicky. Please swing by and get me as well. It’s so close to Brixton Market. I will shout you some oxtail from that restaurant you like so much. You both loved it when you were younger.”
Nick tries to interrupt to tell his mum that David was hungover and probably sick, but Sarah wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Oxtail is the perfect remedy for a hangover, Nicky. I’ll wait outside.”
Nick sighs, who is he to say no to his mother and turn down a free meal?
~
Nick is slowly cracking up. Mum had called Aunt Diane, to accompany them to Brixton market. Nick was tempted to tell her no more people because his Land Rover isn’t that big, but he couldn’t lie to his mother, and David will probably look -and smell- like death warmed up. He contemplates texting David that the whole cavalry is coming, but decides against it. He shouldn’t text while driving.
David makes his way up and down the corner shops small aisles, grabbing pain killers, ginger ale, and a big bottle of water. He walks to the counter to pay and the worker there has the nerve to sniff the air around them in disgust before grabbing a travel sized container of deodorant and placing it amongst his things. David lifts his arms and takes nose to both armpits and shrugs. Fair enough. It is rank. He nods at the employee and pays for the things, including the deodorant, then walks outside to wait for Nick. David drinks down the ginger ale with two paracetamol and puts on an extra layer of deodorant as he digs under his button down shirt. He pays no mind to the traffic whizzing by, doesn’t care that he’s pretty much putting on a show for everyone. He did manage to grab an air freshener for Nicky’s car as well. It’s the least he can do since he’s about to make it smell with his stench.
As Nick gets off the main street, he turns onto Atlantic road. It’s Sunday, what was David thinking? Couldn’t he have taken the Victoria line to get to his flat in Green Park? But as Nick clocks him from afar, he gets it. David looks awful and a girl standing a bit behind him is giving him dirty looks.
Nick honks his horn and stops next to David. Mum gets out to sit in the back with Diane and greets David with excitement. The lads used to call Nick a golden retriever, but when Nick sees his mum like this, with her family, hugging David, he can almost see her wag an imaginary tail.
David spots their mum in the front seat of Nicky’s car. What fresh hell is this? The woman behind him is talking loudly into her mobile about a drunken layabout smelling of arse. She’s thinking of phoning the police about the vagrant. David has the urge to turn to her to tell her that this vagrant is actually well employed, makes a fuck ton of money, and can spend his free time anyway he likes, thank you very much. David doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, before he approaches Nick’s car, he leaves the woman with a loud, stinky fart. He smiles at her and waves as he leaves her with the fuming aftermath of that atrocity. Call the police now, bitch.
“Davey!” Sarah hugs her oldest son before wrinkling her nose. “Sweet lord, what have you been doing? Is that vomit on your shirt?”
“Ma, don’t ask. I’ve had a heck of a morning and I just need to get home.” David replies, returning her hug.
“A man by night is a man by day too, David. I brought your aunt! We’re having lunch at the restaurant near Brixton market. Chop chop, in the car you get.”
Nick knows he shouldn’t, but he took his camera out and is filming the whole showdown. He just knows there is going to be more. Aunt Diane is trying to tell Nick to leave David be, but he sees the smirk on her face.
“Nope. None of that, thank you. I just want to go home, have a shower and sleep until I feel better. Nick just drop me off outside my place, please.” David begs his younger brother as he slides into the passenger seat, hoping like hell he won’t put him through this torture.
Nick thinks he should drop him home. When Nick was broken and in hospital, and the man he had difficulty calling by name was in jail, David had taken him in. He was the one who had helped Nick organise a new place to live and sell his old flat. The one with the blood-stained carpet. Then again, David had been a dick when Nick came out as bisexual. Filming his awkward, hungover state was just a bit of brotherly teasing. “I am not driving all the way to Green Park and then back here again to go for lunch. I am supposed to be shooting another video today.” Nick was not going to make this easy on David, not at all.
“Don’t be silly David, another hour won’t kill you and the oxtail will make you feel better.” Mum said from the back seat. She can be quite convincing when she wants.
“Fuck sake.” David grumbles under his breath. What’s a man gotta do to just get home?! “Nick just drop me off at the next tube stop. I can catch the train.”
“David Jules Nelson! Don’t be rude.” Sarah chastises him as if he’s a child and not a 34 year old man.
The smell permeating off of David is terrible. He’s sprayed on so much deodorant, it’s awful. Nick lowers the windows in the car to get some fresh air circulating. Aunt Diane is ever grateful. Nick finds a parking spot just as they arrive.
Nick really starts to feel sorry for David once their mum and aunt start drinking. They question him about last night’s girl, he delivers vague answers, and he picks at his meal.
David hums as he sort-of eats. The food is good and it’s helping to soak up last night's residual alcohol, but the constant chatter from mum and Aunt Diane is making his head pound harder with each tittering laugh and it’s making nausea roll around in his stomach. “How much longer is this torture going to last?” David grumbles.
Nick takes pity on his older brother. He tells his mum and her sister to stay at the market and to enjoy themselves. The underground is right around the corner and they don’t have to switch lines to get back home. He can see David is not feeling well, so he tells him it’s time to leave. David sighs gratefully as he gets in the passenger seat. Before Nick manages to even start the car, David is asleep.
“Thanks,” David mumbled before he dozed off, dribbling on his younger brother’s shoulder.
About half an hour later, David manages to drag himself out of his brother’s car and past the doorman to the lift without much fanfare. He smells like sewage and is a little disgusted with himself. The woman in the lift, holding her poodle close to her, is also disgusted by his appearance. Clearly, he’s not returning from a morning at church, but he is wearing his sins plainly. He walks out of the lift once it reaches his floor and opens the door to his flat. He walks directly to the bathroom and turns the shower nozzle full blast, cranking the heat up high. David is in need of an exorcism, but a steamy shower will have to do. He looks at himself in the mirror, his morning stubble is in full effect and he has dark, purple like circles under his eyes. He rubs his hands over the stubbly facial hair, looks at his blood shot eyes, and the vomit stained shirt he’s still sporting and questions his life choices. This definitely isn’t where he thought he’d be in ten years.