Actions

Work Header

Something About Those Curls

Chapter 16: Something About Those Curls

Summary:

Previously on Something About Those Curls:
“Nick?” Hand on the doorknob, his tall, handsome boyfriend turned back to look at Charlie, rumpled from sleep, undressed and messy and perfect. His smile was bright, was lovely. His curls, glossy and unkempt, wild.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”

Notes:

Epilogue:
What else can one say except... there really is something about those curls.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

     The thick, rich scent of soil hung in the air. It clung to the early morning fog, filtered in between the thick blades of grass, rose from the sleeping field stretched out and sparkling with a kiss of dew. There was a gentle stillness in this moment, a gentle stillness that calmed all the inner turmoil inside, this time and every time before. A weak, watery sun poured down through the veil of mist and struck the land with a failed attempt of warmth; vague promises of light but also shadows of darkness. It was a most magical time and there was something so special about these moments. These moments that provided the most clarity, the most serenity, the most freedom because in these moments, the solitude of concentration demanded all of him to be present and today was no different.

     No one had expected Charlie Spring to become a professional rugby player, definitely not himself when he joined all those years ago after a timid Nick Nelson asked him to consider it. Definitely not his grammar school coach, or his grammar school teammates, and most definitely not his friends. No, he hadn’t set out to make a career or anything, of course he never lost his love for the game though. While he may have continued on even through the early years of university, when he stopped playing, his love for the game remained strong. He knew all the plays, all the positions, all the teams’ colours and he even knew the schedules and probabilities for winning based on the time of year a game was played.

     Over the years, he had meticulously cultivated his appreciation for the beloved sport, revolved his life around the passion for it and even devoted a weekly ritual to hosting game watches at his. Those who were close to him, they came willingly, lovingly, to celebrate and share food and stories and cheer on their favourite teams and of course, to watch Charlie’s eyes glitter while he looked on. Even later today, they were likely to be found stood before ovens, cooking and preparing for later today. No matter what they all did to prepare though - because no matter what - Charlie always found himself here first.

     Today was a very special day, but not unlike all the ones before. Charlie found himself here always, in the middle row of seats, before the day began, in the empty guts of the rugby pitch his husband would be playing on. He would wander in, security always acknowledging him with a gentle knowing, able to see the nerves just beneath his carefully crafted façade. This game, it would take place on this very field and while in just a few hours’ time, the pitch would be alive with screams and chants, right now, she was deserted. It was why Charlie would come. Every time his husband would step out onto the field, there was no telling if he would make it off unscathed.

      He recalled the first time he found himself here, so early in the morning, before a game. It started after a brutal play left him sitting in a hallway under harsh fluorescent lights, getting a crash course in aftercare for concussions. It was barely two weeks later before the love of his life was returning to play in a match that would be just as brutal. The anxiety had brought him to the very pitch that had threatened everything that mattered to him, and it was in the very stillness of his surroundings, he understood. His boyfriend knew what he was doing, knew there were risks but followed his passion. Charlie felt that, felt that so much since he too had followed his passion in life even if it meant taking risks, but he also knew, that his boyfriend had a profound respect for the sport and treated it with care and love and that was not something you give up just when things get scary. If anything, their journey taught him that.

     So, he would sit in the silence and appreciate his love for his then boyfriend, his once fiancé and his now husband. He would appreciate that once upon a time, he had been willing to give it up if Charlie asked, would appreciate the meticulous practice and preparation he went through to ensure that he would never make a mistake that could potentially separate them. As the chill of the metal seeped in through his clothes, Charlie took a deep breath and looked out over the calm before the storm; bittersweet as he pulled himself to his feet.

     His footsteps echoed down the corridors as he gathered his coat tighter around himself and made his way through the arena and back to the car park. He knew this place like the back of his hand, knew this place better than his parents’ house, better than their own house sometimes. He knew, as he rounded the corner and stepped into the entrance that he would find a bank of offices with a sleepy guard and a perilously perched mug of tea, trying to pull up the gates to welcome the rest of the workers trickling in. He would pass them on his way out, often with no bother especially if the match was set to be an important one, each lost in their own minds preparing. But… today was a special day.

     “Don’t be a stranger now Mr. Nelson.” The guard, juggling his keys, smiled warmly at him, a look of knowing in his eyes. No matter how many times he heard it, after all these years, that name still gave him a thrill.

     “I won’t George, thank you… for everything.” The man just nodded, returning to his work. It wasn’t lost on Charlie that when there was a game, George would show up early to let Charlie in. The car park was dotted with cars, those who had to be here this early getting a jump on the day. A breeze blew softly against his cheek, warm in its attempt but at heart, struck a chill. As he slipped into the driver’s seat, he looked back at the massive premiership stadium with fondness and love. In no time, Charlie would be home and making his way up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom. He would be pushing open the beautiful wooden door to find the most beautiful sight, his incredibly stunning husband still fast asleep, curled around the empty spot where Charlie once lay. He would go to him, cross the room, and rouse him from sleep in the sweetest way possible, would pull him from slumber and help him, help his husband, Nick Nelson, get ready for his last ever professional rugby match.

XXX

    The morning passed in a blur, the bliss of preparing breakfast together, indulging in a few extra kisses in the kitchen as Charlie insisted that Nick stay relaxing at the table while he brought out steaming plates of fuel to get them through this day. Shortly after, the distant sound of the shower could be heard as Charlie gathered his husband’s bag and loaded it all into the boot so all they would need to do is walk out the door. Finally, fully dressed, Nick appeared back in their living room, spending a moment with their darling rescue, soothing her golden fur that was looking more white than gold nowadays but they both ignored it because her smile was still just as happy.

     Everything was as it always was until it was time to leave. As Charlie held the door open to let Nick pass, he found impossibly deep eyes, full of all the colours of the forest and watched as they dropped. So too went Charlie’s heart. He knew this day would come, and when it did, he knew how tough it was going to be. Still, Nick had carried him through his darkest times, Charlie would be damned if he didn’t do the same.

     “I know love.” A pale hand reached out to brush the redhead’s cheek, feeling him immediately lean into it.  Nick drew a shaky breath before finally looking back up, finding all the love, respect, understanding, and patience staring back at him. “I know.”

     Nick Nelson was the strongest person he knew. Literally, figuratively, mentally, emotionally… there was nothing that he couldn’t do once he was set on it. It was all too easy to get lost in the memories of the life they had built together, but now was not the time for that, now he needed to assure the man in front of him that they had so many amazing things to look forward to, to remind him how proud he was to have made this decision willingly and how much love he was going to get today from everyone. But definitely not as much as Charlie would give him.

     It was this loving assurance that got Nick in the car, excited, nervous, and sad all at once. Their drive was filled with memories of all their mornings that started out this very way. It didn’t take much before the car was filled with the familiar melody of their shared laughter. When they pulled into the car park, Nick was all smiles, no trace of sadness to be found.

XXX

     Charlie had often taken to the stands to get as close as possible to the action, today was no different. The entire row was reserved for him and soon it was occupied with all the people who filled his life with joy. Tao and Elle were first to arrive, having travelled in last night. Next, His sister and her partner who automatically took the row behind him, letting their friends fan around him. As much as he would be strong for Nick, today was just as hard for him and they all knew it. Soon after, they were joined by Tara and Darcy and their two young boys who were avid fans of rugby but especially of Uncle Nick. Slipping in beside Tori was his younger brother Oliver linked arm in arm with one of the most special women Charlie ever had the pleasure of knowing, Sarah Nelson.

     Sarah had taken Ollie under her wing just as she had done for Charlie when their own mother couldn’t step in the way they needed her to. Sarah never begrudged her, only tried to help bridge the gap and when her perseverance paid off, the Springs and Nelsons became an incredibly close-knit family. In fact, so close that Julio, Charlie’s father, had let Nick’s brother David head his company’s financials when the offer was presented. The raven-haired man smiled at the thought of how far all of them had come, especially watching as his parents carefully made their way down the stairs to join Sarah and Ollie at the end of their row. Last but not least, Isaac had found his way down to them, eager to catch up with the group after having been abroad for the last six months.

     His family, his entire world rested between these two rows and in this stadium. After all the things they had been through, here they were together, for Nick, for him, for each other. It caught Charlie’s throat, the emotion of it all. Thinking back to when he had felt so alone, before he met the man that changed his life, he never could have pictured his life turning out like this. But it did.

     Nick had followed his passion out of university with the full-bodied support of Charlie, even though they were separated by distance, their love transcended the necessity for proximity. They navigated separate lives through those years, while remaining hopelessly devoted, existing in the moments between classes, thriving on holidays and summers. It was Nick who assured him then that they could weather this and come out stronger. They did. They did as Charlie thrived in university for the first two years before transferring to where Nick was for his last since the coursework was mainly off campus.

     Charlie had the privilege of watching his lover grow into the man he was, and it had been the privilege of his fucking lifetime. Nick had carried him through the dark parts so they could make it here, a lifetime of memories, each more precious than the last. A warm hand wrapped around his own, Isaac squeezing tight as the players were called out onto the pitch.

     Visitors were called out first, all cheers with a few jeers of course. Colourful flags waived jovially through the air as they lined up, waiting for their opponents. Then… the announcer bellowed through the stadium… the home team… Nick’s premiership team. The crowd went absolutely wild. There was a moment when Charlie felt all the sound sucked from him as they called out Nick’s number, everyone rose to their feet in a deafening display of support and love and thanks for all the years. Charlie could feel the hot tears pouring down his face and he knew without a doubt, his soft, sweet, sensitive husband was struggling holding his own back down there.

     As the team jogged across the field, every massive screen lit up with a close up of number ten, a voice booming out stats and scores for the season and there was a resounding chant of ‘Nelson, Nelson’ so loud that it nearly drowned out the speaker. Isaac squeezed tighter as a montage of the Fly-Half’s career played out; the spectacular scores, the incredible comebacks… the terrifying hits. They reminded everyone how he started, scouted from Leeds and rocketing into the league with the force of a freight train. He had come to them at twenty one and had stayed for over a decade, devoted to his team; they were devoted right back. Clips of him just starting out, clips of his first few games, clips of his first title… then the personal clips started. Charlie took a deep breath, knowing he would be barely hanging on through this part. Flashes of magazine covers, flashes of his ceremony for World Rugby Men's 15s Player of the Year and his Try of the Year… uproarious shouts were called when these accolades were brought across… But what Charlie was most proud of, were the clips they showed next.

     Snippets of news clips with headlines like “World’s Most In Demand Fly-Half Comes Out.” To “Nick Nelson, Paving the Way for Inclusion and Equality.” They cut to the first game he played after he had formally come out, camera panning to the crowd decked out in the most special tri-colours that were near and dear to him. As expected, waves of fresh tears poured down Charlie’s cheeks as his eyes found Nick out on the field, surrounded by his team, squeezing in close, all trying to clap him on the back or pull him in for a bone crushing hug. Nick… Nick Nelson who hadn’t understood that he had feelings for a boy at first, now helping others like him understand what it means to break stereotypical boundaries and shatter expectations.

     The announcements came to a close, calling out Nick’s incredible thirteen yeah career, this last game, the one game that would win it for his entire team, the final game for the season… would be Nick’s final game.

     Charlie remembered the day that started this discussion; having happened after a strenuous training session. Nick had come home to find Charlie curled up in their library, enjoying the evening solitude and he sat beside him on the curve of their bay window, stars just beginning to peek out from the veil of approaching night. The raven-haired man shifted automatically, leaning back into the sound chest of his incredibly strong husband… and Nick winced. 

     He had become accustomed to the pains, the bumps, the bruises, had become accustomed to the way his body felt for so long that he didn’t realise Charlie hadn’t made contact with him at all. The younger man, anticipating the pain, just leaned into him to be closer, holding his full weight back from properly pressing against him. It was an awakening, Nick having ignored the fact that it was taking him longer and longer to recover from the soreness was one thing, but his sweet, loving husband denying himself, denying them contact because he knew it would hurt…

     “Charlie… what if I retired.”

     That was all it took, once he said it out loud, it felt right to him. It was time they started a new phase in their life, one that didn’t demand travel and medical worries and chaos; one that still was filled with passion and love but also adventure set at their own pace. They decided together that he would play out this season and if he still felt the same way when they made it towards the end, he would make the announcement. He still felt the same.

     The clips faded to black despite the cheers being loud as ever, echoes of their shared last name on the lips of everyone. With that, Nick made his way to the field – the whistle blew.

XXX

     “Uncle Nick won Uncle Charlie”!!! Charlie’s heart still melted every time he looked at his two friend’s children. Their eldest still shouting out towards the emptying field while the youngest tugged on the ends of his woollen, elated that he was able to come to the game but even more so, they had won.

     “He sure did.” The brunette pulled the small boy up into his arms, letting him rest on his hip a moment, taking in everything around him. Nick has decimated the other team, truly going out with a bang and after all the wild pictures and awards and autographs and songs and cheers, the field was finally empty. Setting the tiny little Olsson-Jones down, Charlie turned to his family. “I am going to get Nick from down in the locker, help him gather his things, meet you at ours for the after party”? They all agreed, lingering in their seats waiting for the crowd to dissipate.

     With a head free from thought, Charlie made his way down to the changing rooms, still crawling with reporters and camera people, flashing lights, and calling out names to get attention. He had waited long enough that the full throng of people were bunched into the hallways and deep into the lockers was mostly deserted. This was where he expected to find Nick.

     The scent of the locker room familiar, it comforted him in this moment. There once was a time he was terrified to be here until… it was this thought that had him looking around, finding the room empty, a distant rushing of water the only signs of life left. Dropping his coat, Charlie ventured deeper into the room, easing the rest off as the entrance to the showers opened up around the corner. Thick heavy steam billowed out in great swirls of beauty, spectral in its reach. He wandered down the path of sparkling white tile, a far cry from the grime of all the other locker room showers he had graced. The walkway led through a standard men’s shower room: open shower heads in clusters in the middle, single heads along the back and side wall and around the right side, private stalls. All of these, empty, save one.

     The newly retired rugby captain stood facing the wall to the left, having chosen a spot right in the middle. His head was bowed, the full force of spray pouring over his down turned face. Charlie took a moment to admire his husband, the strained muscled of his back, stretched along the valley of his spine. Deliciously broad shoulders, strong with the power of carrying the weight of the world upon them. Teal eyes travelled down to tense triceps, bunched with inhibited movement, then down to the curve of his back, watching the water run in rivulets over that beautiful porcelain skin, cascading over powerful thighs, over delicious calves. This man was breathtaking; the first time he saw him, the hundredth time he saw him, every time he saw him. Charlie knew… he knew he was the luckiest person in the universe.

     “It’s just us here.” The redhead lifted his head, turning towards the sound. “You don’t have to be scared.” Charlie closed the distance between him, close enough to see the tiny gems of water sparking off his shoulders. Nick wore a dazzling smile, and red rimmed eyes. The younger man’s heart ached. He opened his arms and that was all it took. Beauty, steeped in sorrow, fell into his waiting embrace and Charlie took all his weight. The water was hot against his skin, the tears dripping down his chest were hotter. He pulled his husband tight against him, soothing him with the soft caress of his voice, telling him how it was okay, that they would be okay. As Nick sobbed into his neck, Charlie held strong, tips of his fingers grazing up and down his spine with one hand, clutching him close with the other.

     “Sorry.” Nick whispered under the roar of the spray. Charlie wouldn’t hear it, tipping his head up and finding those beautiful, sweet cinnamon eyes, brushing back thick ribbons of deep brown that clung to his forehead.

     “Turn around.” He eased the athlete from his grasp, reaching forward to grab a bottle from the wall. The iridescent liquid pooled into his open palm and Charlie felt flutters erupt in his belly, spreading warmth throughout his whole body. Steady hands reached up and sunk into those dark, soaking locks. Nick groaned, dropping his head back as Charlie secured his left arm around a broad chest, scraping his nails against his lover’s scalp gently. The brunette stepped closer, pressing the length of his body against his husband’s. it was a feeling he was so intimately familiar with that the feel of electricity struck through him like lightning.

     Just like it was yesterday, Charlie recalled Nick calming his pain and fears in the same way. His brave, kind love giving without thinking, loving without permission, living with no more boundaries, it had been a gift then and a gift now.

     As his fingers brushed over silky suds, he could feel Nick’s body relax further into him and Charlie had never felt stronger. Heavy muscles shivered against him, soft moans mixing with the cooling spray, spiking his heartrate, so in tune with the man in his arms that he knew they were feeling the same things. Nick turned, water rinsing the decadent soap from him as he brought them together under the deluge. This dance, one they’d done countless times, was slow, sensual, perfect. All the sadness, the joy, the struggles, the wins… they won, they had absolutely won and as Charlie wrapped his legs around his rugby player’s trembling waist, tipping his head back, the teeth sinking into the soft column of his throat pulled a symphony of cries from him. They moved together beneath the water, singing softly to each other all the praise and love they shared. They moved until the water chilled, until they couldn’t stay upright without the support of the wall, they moved together until all that was left was them…

XXX

     The brunette held open a massive duffle bag, balancing it in his grip as he watched all the pieces of a sweat soaked kit be dropped unceremoniously into it.

     “It that everything”? his voice soft in the empty changing room.

     “Yeah, I’ll come by this week to clear everything else out.” He took the bag, sliding it over his shoulder.

     “You okay my love”?

     “Yeah… yeah actually I think I am.” And he was, he was smiling with bright, clear eyes. “I cannot wait to take you home and celebrate properly with all our family and.” He wrapped an arm around Charlie’s bicep, tugging him close. “Then properly celebrate you after they go home.” Charlie shivered against him.

     “Gods Nick.” He fisted his shirt, clutching tight. “Let’s go home.” Home… they were going home to start the next part of their story, for Nick to finally get some time off and relax, to find his new passion… For them, the possibilities were as endless as they have always been. Nick dragged him to the car park, dumping the heavy bag into the boot before leaning back against their car, taking a look back up at the stadium, Charlie tucked close against him, using the man as a shield from the chill breeze.

     “No regrets”?

     Nick turned his full attention to the beautiful man next to him, pulling him even closer. The sky threatening to weep under the emotion in the older man’s face.

     “Mister Nelson.” Six years later and it still stole Charlie’s breath. “There is nothing I could regret when it comes to you and our lives together. I love you darling.”

     “Nick…” his voice dreamy. “Thank you… for choosing me.” The redhead laughed softly.

     “I had absolutely no choice in the matter.”

     “Oh? No”? He looked up at his husband, wind sweeping across them. “And why is that”? Nick lifted his hand to twine a few dark, sable ringlets in his fingers.

     “Your hair.”

     “My hair”?

     “Yeah… I am powerless against it.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against Charlie’s. Full, ruby lips parted as their kiss deepened. It took all his strength for Nick to pull away, dark eyes glittering in the wild dying sunset. He threaded his hand through those raven locks, tugging softly.

     “There is just something about these curls.”

Notes:

Thank you.