Chapter Text
The corridors of the training facility were eerily silent, the thumps of Charlie’s quick footsteps on the linoleum floor echoing as they bounced off of the windows and walls.
It was definitely an odd feeling to be so alone in an enormous building that had been bustling with thousands of people over the last two weeks, but it wasn’t completely unexpected. While some events carried on through the entirety of the Games, others began and concluded in just one day. Charlie knew that most of the athletes returned home when they were finished competing, since they really had no reason to linger in the Village when they had friends and family waiting for them back in their countries. His relay teammates were only sticking around in Paris to support him and Nick in their events, both of which would be over in just under forty-eight hours.
The semifinals for the men’s 200m event were set to begin in just a few hours, and the bus that would transport him to the Stade de France was scheduled to depart in thirty minutes – which was why Charlie found himself rushing as he moved down the corridors of the training facility’s lower level.
And yeah, Charlie should’ve been using this time to finish getting ready for his race, but what was he meant to do when Nick Nelson sent him a text asking if he had time to meet in one of the training rooms before he left for the stadium? Say no?
He rounded the corner into yet another vacant corridor, peering through the glass windows and scanning the numbered metal plaques that labeled the doors in search of the room where Nick was waiting for him.
The events of the previous night still felt dreamlike to Charlie. The twinkling stars dotting the Paris night sky that listened to them on the roof of their Village building, the damp coolness of the antiseptic wipe pinched delicately between his fingers, Nick’s fingertips grazing his skin as they trailed down from his forearm to his hand, the ten-meter wave that came crashing down over them as he drowned in the feeling of Nick’s lips brushing so perfectly against his own – Charlie had actually convinced himself he’d imagined the whole evening until Christian brought it up during breakfast that morning, inquiring about what exactly he’d interrupted when he stumbled into their room last night.
“So, Charlie,” Christian pulled the fork from his mouth to point it accusingly in his direction, brow raised as he chewed a bite of egg. “Care to fill us in?”
He was hiding his hangover rather well, Charlie thought; the other men couldn’t even tell that he was still recovering from the excessive amount of champagne he’d consumed at the water polo party – a fact that Charlie only knew because he’d woken up that morning to the sound of his roommate getting sick into the bin Charlie had strategically placed near his bed.
“Wait, fill us in on what?” Sai’s head turned to look at him.
Otis suddenly gasped, the action sending him into a fit of coughing as he inhaled crumbs from the toast he’d been in the middle of chewing.
Once he composed himself – after a few rough whacks on the back from Christian – he asked, “You didn’t get disqualified, did you?”
“Um, no?” Charlie shook his head. “Why would I get disqualified?”
Otis shrugged. “Misconduct? Cheating? Failed drug test?”
“It’s always the ones you’d least expect.” Sai hummed next to him.
“Bloody hell, let him tell us what happened!” Christian whined, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and staring at Charlie with eager, expectant eyes.
With three pairs of eyes pointed in his direction, the muted grin on Charlie’s lips widened into an uncontainable smile.
“I kissed Nick,” he admitted quietly – not because he was embarrassed, but because he was being cautious of his words accidentally falling upon the wrong ears in the small crowd that had gathered for breakfast in the dining hall. “Or, I guess he kissed me? We kissed each other.”
“Yes!” Otis pumped a fist in the air and laughed triumphantly, his outburst garnering the attention of a few athletes that happened to be walking past their table with trays of food.
It was a reaction Charlie definitely hadn’t been expecting, until he was reminded of the bet Christian had mentioned last night when Otis pointed at his teammates and added, “Both of you lads are now twenty quid poorer, thank you!”
“You couldn’t have waited two more days, Spring?” Sai tilted his head back with a sigh, face scrunched up as if the loss of the bet had actually injured him. “I had you two getting together after the Games were over.”
Charlie gasped, eyes darting over to Christian. “Wait, when did you think it was going to happen?”
With a mischievous spark in his eyes, Christian said, “After I caught you stalking his player profile online on the first night, I figured it was only a matter of days.”
“Hey!” Charlie yelped in embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as his teammates teased him.
“Honestly, though,” Sai put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. “We’re really happy for you two.”
Otis and Christian agreed, and Charlie found that his cheeks were beginning to ache from how hard he was smiling.
Things were all still so fragile and new; he hadn’t even told his friends back home what had happened with him and Nick, and he didn’t quite know how this thing between them would play out in the future. Regardless, a wave of relief had washed over him, its effect instantly calming.
The last few weeks had been so stressful – from the relay competition and everything with Ben, to navigating his crush on Nick in the middle of the biggest competition of his career – and finally, Charlie felt like he could breathe.
Making one final turn, Charlie found the room he’d been looking for – R14. He peered into the room through the window just to make sure that Nick was in there, eyes falling on the hunched frame of the rugby player as he sat on the workout bench, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips while he looked down at his phone.
Nick was still wearing his rugby uniform, the white collar of his jersey peeking out from underneath his Team GB jacket. Charlie wished he could have gone to watch the final match of the group stage, but time wouldn’t allow it; he had early meetings with his coaches and trainers to prepare for the semifinals of his own event.
Of course, he still checked the score on his phone a few times during his meetings, ignoring the eye-rolls from Farouk when the trainer caught him sneaking glances down at his phone.
Team GB came out on top at the end of their match against Ireland with a final score of 19-0, a victory that locked in their spot at the top of Group B and set them up to play Argentina in the first round of the knockout-stage. Of course, that meant that Nick would be on his way to the Stade de France for the quarterfinals just as Charlie was arriving back at the Village. He wasn’t sure when Nick would get back, so he wasn’t too hopeful they’d be able to see each other much today.
Charlie was just happy to have a sliver of time to see him now, though.
He stepped away from the window and pulled open the door. Nick looked up at the sound, and the way that his grin widened as his eyes met Charlie’s own sent a swarm of butterflies through his stomach.
“Hi.” Nick set his phone down on the bench.
“Hi.” Charlie turned to shut the door quietly behind him – not that there was anybody else on the facility’s lower level that the sound would have alerted.
The rugby player rose to his feet, stepping toward him to meet him halfway in the center of the room. Charlie left a reasonable amount of space between them as he stopped, but that only made Nick take a step closer.
He was definitely staring, but Nick didn’t seem to mind. The brush of Nick’s fingers against his own startled him out of his trance. Charlie’s eyes flicked down to his side, where Nick’s hand silently asked for permission.
With an amused giggle, Charlie laced their fingers together, Nick squeezing both his hand and his heart simultaneously.
“Wanna sit down?” Nick asked, nodding his head toward the workout bench to their side.
Charlie nodded, allowing himself to be led an entire three paces to the bench.
This training room felt more like an equipment storage locker than anything else, he thought, especially compared to the massive facilities he’d been training in during his time in Paris. Charlie could count the number of machines on one hand. There was a short rack of free weights in the corner near the mirrored back wall, a single yoga mat stretched out on the floor, and the bench that they sat on was the only one in the room.
It was likely a room meant for individual training, which hopefully meant that they wouldn’t be interrupted.
Charlie turned his body to face Nick, their clasped hands rested atop his thigh. “How was your match?”
“We got a shutout!” Nick’s face lit up, the fabric of one of the bandages on his cheek scrunching up as he smiled. “Coach Singh didn’t let me play that many minutes since she wants the starters to be rested for the knockout match later, but I ended up with two assists. And one of Marcus’s passes was literally so clean, it might just go down as the play of the tournament. Oh! And we’ve been practicing this one play that we drew up in training, and Singh finally let the guys try it out during the game. Char, it was perfect-”
The hand that wasn’t holding Charlie’s gestured wildly in the air as he spoke, and the smile on his lips was infectious. Nick’s passion for his sport was palpable, and if Charlie hadn’t already been absolutely smitten for the rugby player, hearing him praise his teammates and excitedly recount his match surely would have done him in for.
Several minutes later, Nick paused in the middle of his sentence to take a breathless inhale, and Charlie let out a giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Nick playfully narrowed his gaze at him.
“Nothing!” Charlie chuckled again and held his free hand up in defense. Then, he quietly added, “It’s just…you’re really cute when you talk about rugby.”
“Oh.” Nick’s face instantly began to flush pink, his grin becoming shy.
There was something about being able to make world renowned heartthrob rugby star Nick Nelson blush and stutter with a simple compliment that made Charlie’s ego swell just a bit. People literally showered Nick with compliments at every opportunity, and he was always humbly receptive to them. But as he watched the color in the rugby player’s cheeks deepen, he felt an odd sense of pride at the fact that he made that happen.
Charlie reached forward to push a strand of hair away from Nick’s face, light fingertips grazing over the bruising around his eye on the way down. “Did anyone say anything about this?”
“A few of my teammates, yeah,” Nick replied. He let go of Charlie’s hand to smooth down one of the bandages on his cheekbone. “I just told them that I took a few hard hits during the New Zealand match.”
“And that worked?”
“Yeah,” Nick shrugged. “Luckily we’re at a point in the tournament where everyone’s a bit knocked up. I’m actually not even the only one on the squad with a black eye.”
Well then. Not for the first time in his athletic career, Charlie was thankful to have chosen a sport that didn’t involve being physically assaulted by his competitors.
Just as Charlie opened his mouth to respond, Nick added, “I told Marcus and James the truth, though.”
Oh? He paused. “…You told them about-”
“Not about us,” Nick clarified. “Just that I’d gotten into a fight with Harry.”
Charlie nodded silently. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt disappointed that Nick hadn’t told them.
The rational part of his brain reminded him of the very likely possibility that Nick wasn’t out to them, and maybe he wasn’t ready to be.
Emotionally, though…he didn’t think he had the energy to be kept a secret again. But Nick wasn’t Ben – he’d proven that time and time again, and Charlie at least had to give him some time before they decided to go public with…whatever they were.
Nick must have detected the disappointment in his features, because he reached forward to take Charlie’s hand into his own once more and said, “The more people that know about us, the more likely it is that the public might find out before we’re ready. It’s not that I regret what happened between us. I definitely don’t,” he chuckled, a sound that made the tension in Charlie’s shoulders release. “It’s just…I really like you, Charlie. And I don’t want us to be put under some sort of national spotlight until we’re both ready.”
It made a lot of sense. They’d really only known each other for a few weeks, and just because Charlie already told his relay teammates didn’t mean he was ready for the whole world to know about them, especially before the Games were over. He’d already been concerned with his crush on Nick distracting him from his races – juggling a fresh public relationship with the nation’s biggest athletic star would definitely have some sort of effect on his performance mindset.
But…one thing Nick said kept replaying in Charlie’s mind. A grin crept onto his lips.
“You like me?” He asked quietly, looking up at the rugby player through his lashes.
Nick looked taken aback, lips parted in stunned silence and eyebrows lifting toward his hair. “Uh, yeah,” he laughed, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “Was that not obvious?”
Charlie shrugged and casted his eyes to the floor beside their bench, his grin widening into an uncontainable smile. “I dunno…”
“Oh really?” Nick’s free hand came up to rest on the side of his face, guiding Charlie’s eyes back to his own. “Well then, maybe this will convince you.”
Nick’s signature lopsided grin was the last thing Charlie saw before he let his eyes flutter shut, leaning forward to meet the rugby player halfway as he closed the short distance between them.
Their lips met briefly once, then again, each kiss sending crackling sparks through Charlie’s veins. He felt Nick untangle his fingers from his own, and soon enough, both of the rugby player’s hands were resting on the sides of his face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
Sparks quickly evolved into a surge of electricity, sending Charlie’s head spinning in the most wonderful way. He leaned forward into the kiss, the hand that had been holding Nick’s instead coming to rest on his knee, using the leverage to scoot himself closer on the bench. Charlie’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t hear the silence of the small training room they sat in.
After what could have been either one minute or ten, Charlie reluctantly pulled back – not before Nick could steal one final kiss, though. The rugby player’s hands moved down to rest casually on Charlie’s waist, his chest rising and falling steadily.
“Okay,” Charlie said breathlessly, running a hand through his curls. “That was certainly convincing.”
Next to them on the bench, Charlie’s phone pinged with a message. He groaned, knowing exactly what the text said before he even picked it up to read it.
Farouk: bus should be arriving in five minutes, go on and start heading to the zone
“I have to go.” Charlie sighed as he pocketed his phone.
Nick’s puppy eyes were not making it any easier for Charlie to stand up, but he forced his legs straight and rose from the bench.
“Wait,” Nick’s voice drew his attention back toward the bench. Once he met the rugby player’s eyes, he continued. “Do you remember the bet we made during the flag game?”
Charlie nodded, even though their bet had been the farthest thing from his mind since their walk that night. During their late-night adventure the first week in Paris, when Nick had incorrectly identified Senegal’s flag as Cameroon’s flag during the game, he’d lost their bet and would have to sneak a quote from Mean Girls into one of his rugby interviews.
Nick smirked. “Well then, you might want to tune in after my match tonight for the press conference.”
“Tonight?” Charlie’s eyes widened.
“Mhm,” Nick nodded eagerly. “I’m gonna do it after the Argentina match.”
Charlie ignored the vibration of his phone in his back pocket. He folded his arms across his chest, raising a playful brow at the rugby player. “You seem oddly excited for someone who lost a bet.”
“I think it’ll be fun,” he shrugged, pushing himself up from the bench to stand in front of Charlie. “The only reason it’s taken this long is because I couldn’t decide which iconic quote I wanted to use.”
Raising his eyes to look up at Nick, he said, “You’re not going to wait until the finals, then?”
“I considered it,” Nick admitted. “I imagined ripping apart my gold medal and giving a piece to each of the losing teams while reciting Cady’s disco speech, but I reckon that would be, like…physically impossible.”
Charlie laughed. “I dunno, you seem pretty capable.” He reached forward to place a hand on the rugby player’s muscular arm.
For the second time that day, he watched as Nick’s face turned a lovely shade of pink.
It really doesn’t take much to make him blush, Charlie thought, smugly pocketing that valuable piece of information.
“Don’t you have a bus to get on? An Olympic semi-finals to win?” The rugby player took another step towards him, a playful edge to his tone.
“I suppose I do.” Charlie grinned, despite the disappointment he felt inside. He was half-tempted to message Farouk and ask him to delay their departure – his race didn’t even start for another couple of hours, what was ten more minutes? – but he had to be a responsible athlete.
His stomach flipped as he felt Nick’s hand slide into the dip of his waist, guiding his body closer. Without warning, his heartbeat began to accelerate in his chest.
“Not that you need it or anything, but…” Nick’s eyes drifted down to his lips, his other hand finding Charlie’s waist. “Do you want a kiss for good luck?”
Charlie rolled his eyes fondly, giggling as his palms found the fabric on the chest of the rugby player’s Team GB jacket. “You’re a dork.”
“Is that a yes?”
Instead of answering, Charlie raised himself onto his toes to press their lips together, ignoring the vibrations of his phone in his pocket. The bus could wait just one more minute.
Charlie was still struggling to steady his breathing as he finally made his way toward the edge of the track, but no amount of exhaustion could have forced the beaming smile off his face.
The Stade de France was still roaring with excitement after the first semifinals heat of the men’s 200m race. The race had been incredibly close, with no real pack leader emerging until the final stretch – and that leader had been Charlie, finishing just 0.04 seconds ahead of the man who came in second place. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable margin of victory, but this was an intensely competitive event. The Tokyo Games four years ago resulted in only a 0.12 second difference between the gold and the bronze medalists, so it wasn’t a matter of winning by a lot, he just had to win.
And so far in Paris…he’d done just that.
Waiting for him eagerly on the sidelines, his relay teammates rushed him as soon as he exited the main portion of the track, Otis and Christian nearly tackling him in an excited embrace.
“You did it, mate!” Christian exclaimed as he lifted Charlie’s smaller frame up into the air, spinning him in a full circle. “You’re going to the finals!”
After his teammate set him down, Sai whacked Christian on the arm. “He literally just finished racing, you’re going to make him sick!”
“I’m okay.” Charlie chuckled, though he was feeling dizzy. But he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way Christian had spun him around or because he was going to the finals in the goddamn Olympics.
Otis looked down at his phone, then quickly shoved it back into his pocket, eyes darting between his relay teammates. Charlie looked curiously between them; it was as if they were having a wordless conversation, but all three of the men seemed to be on the same page.
“Are you finished with press for the day?” Sai asked suddenly.
“Yeah?” Charlie answered, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion.
“Perfect!” Christian clapped his hands together, wearing a mischievous smile. “You need to come with us.”
“Come with you for…what, exactly?”
“That’s for us to know and you to find out, Spring.” Otis smirked, reaching his arms forward to offer Charlie his folded Team GB jacket.
“It’s a surprise.” Christian added with a wink.
“That’s what he literally just said, idiot.” Sai rolled his eyes.
Shrugging the jacket over his uniform, Charlie’s eyes drifted over to his coach and the athletic trainers, who were occupied with preparing Ben for his heat in the semis. Technically, Charlie should have been a part of that huddle, encouraging his teammate and checking in with his trainer after his own race.
But Charlie would have quite literally preferred to do anything but that – including participating in whatever scheme his relay teammates had concocted.
Reluctantly accepting his fate, Charlie said, “Alright, let’s go.”
Even though he’d been competing in the Stade de France for more than two weeks now, Charlie had no clue where his teammates were taking him, completely unfamiliar with the layout of the arena beyond the main track and the tunnel that led to the locker room. They led him down corridor after corridor; they went up four flights of stairs just to go back down two more; they rotated between walking through the public areas of the stadium among the thousands of patriotic spectators and navigating the zones that were authorized only for Olympic staff, athletic teams and athletes.
The longer it took for them to actually reach their destination – and the more frequently his teammates peered around corners to check if the coast was clear before they advanced – the more positive Charlie became that whatever they were doing wasn’t necessarily allowed.
Finally, after ascending one final flight of concrete stairs and pushing open a door that led to a dimly-lit corridor, his teammates stopped.
“Which one was it again?” Otis looked toward his other two relay teammates as he scanned the doors that lined the hallway.
Sai looked down at his phone, seemingly scrolling through a thread of text messages. “Let’s see…” he trailed off, and after a few beats of silence, he looked back up. “It’s room 23.”
The boys didn’t seem too cautious of their surroundings anymore, so the tension that had built up in Charlie’s muscles as the group snuck around the perimeter of the stadium finally released.
They walked a few meters down the corridor before stopping in front of a door with the number 23 boldly centered on the wood. Charlie reached forward to turn the knob, but Otis swatted his wrist away.
“What was that for?” Charlie glared at his teammate.
“You’re not going to knock first?” Christian clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “Where have your manners gone, Spring?”
Rolling his eyes fondly, Charlie raised his fist and gave three solid knocks on the door.
It took a few moments, but he watched as the brass knob began to turn. The door was flung open into what appeared to be one of the private, fancy box-seat lounges that overlooked the stadium, where the wealthy and important spectators preferred to watch the Games.
But the room wasn’t occupied by any of the nations’ stuffy politicians or Olympic athletic alumni.
Waiting behind the door were his best friends.
Charlie’s feet felt frozen in place, his body refusing to function as his mind tried to piece together how on earth this was possible – and if it was real. His jaw hung open as he stared at Elle, wearing a cropped white shirt with his team’s flag printed in the center, who had somehow teleported from England to France and was standing right in front of him inside the Stade de France.
Elle stood with a look of mock confusion, hands on her hips as she looked him up and down. But she couldn’t contain her smile as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry! I think you might have the wrong room.”
Behind her, Tao stretched out on one of the plush leather sofas, looking over toward the door. He fixed the beanie on his head, his everyday one swapped for a Team GB-themed one. “I cannot believe some random man tried to break into our room. I will be sending the Olympic committee a very strongly-worded email.”
Charlie let out a surprised bark of laughter, his eyes suddenly feeling teary. “What are you…how did you get… here?” He blinked rapidly.
“On a plane,” Isaac chimed in from where he sat at one of the tall chairs near the spectating window that overlooked the competition venue. “We just landed a couple hours ago!”
Another giggle escaped him, and Charlie finally found the strength to move his feet, stepping forward into the room – and into Elle’s warm embrace.
As soon as he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, the tears that had been pooling beneath his lashes finally spilled onto his cheeks, and he let out a wet laugh. This was real. They were really here.
“Yes!” Otis exclaimed behind him. Charlie heard the sounds of hands slapping in high-fives behind him. “We did it, lads!”
Charlie released Elle, sniffling as he looked back at his teammates. “Wait, so all of this was-“
“Us!” Christian beamed, arms opening as he gestured to his other two teammates.
“We know it hasn’t been an easy couple of weeks, Spring,” Sai leaned against the doorframe. “So we wanted to do this for you.”
His time in Paris so far really hadn’t been easy – and his teammates didn’t even fully know why exactly things had been so difficult for him. Charlie never told them about what happened between him and Ben (last summer or even just last week), and even though they likely knew that he’d been pining over Nick since the night they arrived in the Village, his teammates didn’t understand the extent of the literal civil war that had broken out inside of Charlie’s heart, the constant push and pull of devoting his undivided attention to the Games and wanting to be something more than friends with Nick Nelson.
Charlie exhaled, an astonished grin on his lips. “Thank you.”
“Any time, mate,” Otis winked, reaching forward and clapping him on the shoulder. “But we didn’t technically book this room. There was a gap in the reservation schedule, so you’ve got about half an hour until you get kicked out.”
Rolling his eyes fondly, Charlie chuckled and said, “Alright, we’ll make sure we’re out before then.”
“We’ll see you back at the Village tonight. We’re still on to watch Nick’s match later, yeah?” Christian asked.
Charlie felt his body tense slightly at the mention of the rugby player. He felt the pointed looks from his friends behind him practically burning holes into the back of his jacket.
He still hadn’t told his friends about his kiss with Nick. Actually, Charlie really hadn’t told them anything that happened between himself and Great Britain’s rugby star since his very first week in Paris. It wasn’t like he was avoiding filling them in on everything that happened; telling his best friends about how his relationship with Nick had developed simply wasn’t something to be done over text. But he’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious about how they’d react to the news.
This is your first Olympics! You can’t let yourself be distracted by a crush.
You should be focused on winning, not boys.
Get your gold medal first, then your golden boy.
He was going to tell them. Now, how he was going to tell them…he still had to sort that part out.
“Yeah, I’ll let you know when I get back.” Charlie finally answered.
“Sounds good, mate.” Otis said.
“We’ll leave you all to it, then. Enjoy the suite!” Christian flashed a smile at his group of friends.
His relay teammates waved goodbye before departing, the door to the suite clicking as it shut behind them.
Charlie followed Elle over to the leather sectional where Tao sat, his feet propped up on the wooden table in front of him. When he finally sat down, he let out an involuntary sigh of relief, aching body sinking into the luxurious comfort of the sofa.
“I can’t believe you guys are actually here.” He smiled as he looked between Tao and Elle on the couch, then over to Isaac in his tall chair near the spectating window.
“We honestly can’t, either,” Tao leaned forward to retrieve a glass from the table, having taken advantage of the open bar in the suite that they’d essentially broken into. “Your teammates literally messaged us yesterday to set this whole thing up.”
Elle shot her boyfriend a disapproving glare, but Tao shrugged and continued to sip on his stolen drink.
“We’re staying in this stunning hotel in the city. I wanted to send you some pics, but obviously that would have ruined the surprise, so…” Elle giggled, crossing her legs on the couch. When she set her hand down on the leather next to him, Charlie noticed that she’d painted her nails in delicate patriotic swirls resembling the Team GB flag. “But we’ve got the hotel booked for two nights, so we’ll get to see you race in the finals tomorrow and then we’ll have an extra day to explore Paris together!”
“That sounds perfect.” Charlie grinned, relaxing back into the leather cushions.
His relay teammates had mentioned wanting to explore the city for a day once all of their events were over. Luckily, they’d all been too busy training and competing to realize just how boring it was to spend weeks bouncing around the same four locations: the Village, the dining hall, the training facility, and the Stadium. They’d been in Paris for weeks, yet they’d been trapped in the Olympic bubble without much access to the outside world.
The most Charlie had really seen of Paris had been from the rooftop of his building in the Village. The rooftop that had slowly become his and Nick’s place since their first week at the Games, his mind supplied unhelpfully.
He really needed to tell his friends. But where was he even supposed to begin?
“It looks like the next race is about to start.” Isaac leaned forward in his chair, looking down at the track below.
“Oh! Let’s watch!” Elle jumped up from the couch, claiming one of the tall chairs next to her friend.
Well, now he at least had more time to think about it.
Charlie and Tao followed her, though they were both much less eager to spectate; Tao wasn’t a particularly passionate fan of any sport (outside of cheering on his friend, of course), and even though Charlie usually enjoyed watching the events, he didn’t have much interest in watching Ben compete.
Since they were so high up in the stands, they could hardly make out the figures that were getting set to race on the track below. Charlie and his friends shifted their gazes toward the large screen at the far end of the stadium, which displayed the at-home broadcast.
Like always, the cameramen on the track panned across all eight lanes of men racing in the second heat of the 200m competition. Even through the glass of the window in their suite, Charlie could hear the muffled screams of excitement from the thousands of spectators filling the stands around the stadium’s perimeter as the athletes were introduced.
At the very end of the sequence in Lane 1, Ben finally came onto the screen, dressed in an identical uniform to the one Charlie currently wore under his jacket, the only difference being the “Hope” printed onto his bib.
“I hope he loses,” Elle glared at the screen, her arms crossed over her chest. “Hard.”
“How much do you reckon I’d have to pay the Liberian in Lane 2 to knock him over when the gun goes off?” Tao inquired next to him, narrow gaze peeking over the rim of his glass as he took a long sip.
Charlie offered a half-hearted chuckle, wrapping his arms around his body as he leaned back in his chair. The truth was that he had mixed feelings about whether or not he wanted Ben to advance to the finals; after everything he’d put him through, both before and during their time together at the Games, he couldn’t decide if he wanted Ben to fall short in the semis or if he wanted to be the one to strip the gold medal from his reach in the finals.
The screen finally panned out once more, all eight runners coming into view in their respective lanes, stretching as they waited for the signal to get down into their starting positions.
“Hey, Charlie?” Elle placed a hand on his forearm to get his attention.
He turned to look at her, responding with a questioning hum – even though the look of gentle concern on her features gave him an idea of what his friend was going to ask
“He hasn’t been giving you any problems, right?” She looked over at the screen, which now displayed the names of each runner in the upcoming heat next to a photo of their nation’s flag and their finishing times in the first race. Then, she added, “Ben?”
Charlie chewed on the inside of his cheek. “A bit, yeah,” he answered quietly.
After a few gasps filled the suite – along with a mumbled threat of violence from Tao – Charlie quickly continued. “It’s all sorted out now, though,” he placed a reassuring hand on top of Elle’s, which was still resting on his arm. “I promise there’s nothing to be worried about.”
Yeah, there’s nothing to be worried about now. Actually, Nick’s sort of the reason that there’s nothing to worry about. Nick Nelson, the straight rugby lad who apparently isn’t straight because we kissed and he likes me and I like him a lot, too.
Anxiety clawed at Charlie’s stomach. Why was it this difficult to tell them?
“Okay.” Elle said, though she didn’t sound entirely sure of herself.
The stadium erupted in cheers once more, and their attention was drawn down toward the track. During their conversation, the men had gotten set to begin their race, getting their feet positioned in the starting blocks and kneeling down onto the track.
“Set.” The announcer’s voice sounded over the sound system. Charlie watched as the runners sank back into the blocks, a pit settling deep in his stomach.
The bang of the starting gun bounced off the walls of the Stade de France, and the men took off in a sprint.
Ben started off in a promising position, emerging from the blocks toward the front of the pack. His strides were long and purposeful, but so were those of the men in the other seven lanes.
Once they had reached the mark of the first 100 meters, Ben’s lead had shrunk substantially; now, five men sprinted stride for stride, appearing to be dead even. It was closer than Charlie’s race had been – the second heat of the men’s 200m was proving to be extremely competitive.
The race was over just as quickly as it had begun. To the spectators’ naked eyes, it looked like four of the athletes had crossed the finish line at the same exact time. The final times began to fill the board on the big screen at the far end of the stadium, the stadium once again exploding in deafening cheers at the results.
- USA – Pluck – 19.97 seconds
- LBR – Fahnbulleh – 19.98 seconds
- GBR – Hope – 20.00 seconds
“Yes!” Tao pumped his fist in the air, laughing triumphantly. He reached behind Charlie’s back to high-five Elle, who wore a satisfied smile.
But Ben coming in third place didn’t mean that he was disqualified. Actually, based on his finishing time, it could possibly mean the opposite.
Charlie’s lack of a celebratory reaction made Elle tilt her head at him. “Are you not happy that he’s not moving on?”
“He still could, technically,” Charlie shrugged, the anxious pit in his stomach growing. “The top two finishers from each heat are guaranteed to move on, but they take the next two fastest times to decide who rounds out the gold medal race. Ben ran faster than the guy who got third place in my heat earlier, so unless the third and fourth place finishers in the last heat get better times than Ben…he’s qualified.”
With a dramatic groan, Tao dragged his hands down his face, eyes nearly rolling all the way into the back of his head. “He’s so annoying.”
“At least there’s still a chance he won’t make it.” Elle settled.
“I think we’ve got to get going, you guys.” Isaac lifted his phone, flashing them the screen to show the time.
“Yeah, I’d rather not get escorted out of the Olympics by security today.” Elle giggled, hopping out of the tall chair to grab her bag from the couch. Tao downed the rest of his drink before following her, discarding his cup in the bin to destroy the evidence of their stay in the suite.
Shit, he still hadn’t told them.
Charlie turned around in his chair, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He chewed on his lower lip as he watched his friends move around the room to collect their things, the opportunity slipping away with each and every passing moment.
The thing was…what if they didn’t react well to the news? They had told him to stay away from boys, to focus on the Games instead of a silly crush; Nick clearly wasn’t distracting him considering his first place finish in the semifinals, but if he got into some sort of argument with his best friends right before the finals…Charlie may as well give up on his dreams of a gold medal right then and there.
He could wait until after the Games were over to tell them, he concluded. They’d told him they were staying in Paris for an extra day, so he could just tell them then.
Guiltily, he stood up from his chair and followed his friends out of the suite.
He hadn’t told them anything about what had happened between him and Nick for over two weeks. What was two more days?
“Well that one was a little too close for comfort.” Christian took a dramatically deep breath, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow where he lay sprawled out on the floor of Otis and Sai’s room.
Otis snatched another crisp from the open bag in Sai’s lap where the pair sat on the couch. “Yeah, but at least they won.”
Later that evening, Charlie was sitting on the floor in his relay teammates’ room watching the second match of the rugby quarter finals – Great Britain versus Argentina. Apparently, it was one of the most highly anticipated matches of the tournament, a rematch of the bronze-medal matchup from the Tokyo games. When the two teams met four years prior, Argentina had narrowly beaten Team GB to earn a third-place finish in the tournament. This year, though, it had been Team GB that came out on top in the end, knocking the reigning bronze-medalists out of the tournament with a final score of 29 to 26.
Nick had played phenomenally – not that Charlie’s opinion was biased or anything. His talent made him stand out like a diamond in a sea of stones, even on a pitch full of experienced, world-class athletes.
“Who are they up against in the semis, then?” Otis asked.
“They’ll play the winner of the next match. It’s between South Africa and Canada, I think.” Sai responded, standing up and walking over to the tablet that he’d balanced against his duffel bag so the group could watch the rugby match.
He turned the volume all the way up just as the broadcast had switched over to a livestream of the post-match conference room where the winning team would shortly be interviewed.
“I still can’t believe he’s doing this Mean Girls thing for you,” Christian teased from the ground, reaching his arm behind his head and poking Charlie’s ankle. “The grip you’ve got on him is unreal, Spring.”
“He’s not doing it for me.” Charlie laughed, crossing his legs more comfortably on the floor. “Nick’s the one who made the conditions for the bet, which he lost. He’s just sticking to his word.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Otis chimed in, a smirk dancing on his lips. “He’s proper smitten for you, mate.”
Charlie felt his cheeks begin to blush a deep shade of red – which made his teammates burst out into a fit of playful laughter.
“Shut up!” He whined, hiding his smiling face in hands.
On the tablet in front of them, a few members of the Team GB rugby squad had begun to walk across the stage, taking their seats at the table to prepare for the press panel. Charlie pulled his hands away from his face just in time to see Nick take the final seat in the row, next to Marcus, James, and their head coach.
The blush on Charlie’s cheeks remained stubbornly put, because Nick looked way too good for someone who had just played in a rugby match. The athletes had zipped up their team jackets over their grass-stained jerseys. Nick’s cheeks were still tinged pink from exertion, the flashes of the press cameras highlighting his glistening skin. He reached forward to adjust the microphone that was stationed on the table in front of him, and then offered a kind smile to the Olympic staff member who kneeled in front of the table to fix the microphone for him.
Christian sat up and moved to sit next to Charlie on the ground, and Sai reclaimed his spot on the couch next to Otis. The group was quiet as the first questions from the press began to come through the speakers on the tablet.
“That was quite a thrilling match, I’d say,” the first reporter chuckled, and the panel of athletes smiled at her. “How were you able to maintain the same level of energy you started with throughout both halves of play?”
“We knew coming into this match that it certainly wouldn’t be an easy one,” Coach Singh answered. “But I think that the team was hungry for redemption, and they gave it everything they had to get the result we wanted.”
The same reporter remained at the microphone. She turned her attention toward Nick, who perked up to listen. “Argentina seemed to recognize the offensive threat you posed almost instantly. How did your strategy change once you realized that the Argentinians essentially had you triple-marked?”
Charlie watched as Nick’s eyes lit up, and a grin crept onto his lips, preparing himself for what appeared to be coming next.
The rugby player leaned down toward the microphone. “Like you said, there were two or three of them on me as soon as I got the ball. My first thought was… like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
A few lighthearted chuckles sounded around the conference room, and Marcus and James shot him matching peculiar glances. Nick wore a satisfied grin, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to contain his own laughter.
“He did it! He said the line!” Christian’s smile was wild as he put his phone down from where he’d been holding it to record the scene on the tablet.
Charlie shook his head fondly, making a mental note to ask Nick how he’d managed to incorporate the quote so seamlessly into his interview. Did he have an arsenal of usable quotes lined up in his mind, ready to be slipped in whenever they could fit?
On the screen, Nick continued after the crowd had quieted. “During the half, we came up with some new formations to hopefully allow more space to open up and create some scoring opportunities, which I think ended up working out well for us.”
“Based on the final score line, I’d say it did.” The reporter winked at him, then stepped away from the stand to be replaced by another member of the press.
Now that the Mean Girls quote had been said, the group mostly stopped paying attention to the press conference, leaving it on as background noise as they chatted. Charlie couldn’t really follow along with all of the rugby-talk, anyways; it may as well all have been in a foreign language.
“I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again,” Christian stood up and twisted his back, a loud crack echoing through the room. “The beds here feel like literal rocks.”
“Only two more days, then it’s back to boring, normal life.” Sai sighed, popping a crisp into his mouth.
“Boring, normal life as Olympic silver-medalists!” Christian reminded him.
“Oh! I meant to ask,” Charlie glanced backwards at the sofa from where he sat on the ground. “My friends and I are going to go out and explore Paris after the finals, if you want to come.”
“We’re in!” Otis nodded enthusiastically. “Are you gonna invite Nick, too?”
Surely, Charlie will have told his friends about him and Nick by then, so he hummed in confirmation. “I was also going to see if his two friends from the rugby staff wanted to come along, Tara and Darcy. I met them yesterday at the New Zealand match.”
“We’ll be like one big tourist group!” Christian threw himself onto the couch between Otis and Sai, throwing his lanky arms around their shoulders. “It’s gonna be so fun.”
“So Nick, it must feel nice to have Charlie Spring here at the Games with you. A lot of athletes would love to have the support of their significant others in person during the tournament.”
The laughter died on Charlie’s lips when he heard his own name suddenly sound from the speakers of the tablet. His head snapped back toward the screen, his heartbeat coming to a halt.
Oh, no.
On the screen, Nick’s eyes had gone wide, his body suddenly looking far more stiff than it had earlier in the interview. His teammates looked just as confused as Charlie felt, and his coach had narrowed her eyes at the new reporter who stood at the podium.
“W-what?” The rugby player questioned, and Charlie’s heart tugged uncomfortably at the worried edge in his tone.
“Oh, have you not seen the photograph?” The reporter asked innocently, her head cocked to the side. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed anything, that’s my mistake.”
The…photograph?
“What’s she on about?” Otis questioned.
“Otis, let me see your phone.” Charlie said carefully.
Without question, Otis handed over his phone, and Charlie navigated to Twitter before he even realized what he was doing, the motions panicked and automatic.
In the back of his mind, Charlie clutched on to the small ounce of hope that the reporter had simply been referring to a photo from the Opening Ceremony where they’d stood near each other on their boat floating down the Seine, or maybe the hug they’d shared after his relay team earned a silver medal in the finals, or even the time after Nick’s match yesterday where they met briefly in the tunnels with Tara and Darcy, the rugby player’s arm slung affectionately around his shoulders. The Olympics were televised, after all, and Nick and Charlie had been seen together more than once. Their friendship wasn’t exactly a secret.
A sharp intake of breath filled his burning lungs as he was met with what had to be the photograph in question, there was no doubt in his mind about it.
Fuck.
Charlie recognized it immediately, his heart sinking into the bottom of his stomach. It was from earlier that same day, when he and Nick had met up in the training room before he left for the race; they were standing close in the center of the room, Charlie’s hand on Nick’s arm and a private grin on the rugby player’s blushing face.
How had the picture even gotten out? They’d been completely alone in that training room, or so they thought.
It was all over Twitter, their names both occupying the top two trending spots in the sports category. Users from all over the world were speculating whether or not the interaction was romantic, theorizing and arguing with each other in more threads than Charlie could process.
Are they together?? Idk this looks pretty convincing.
There’s nothing convincing about this wdym? Nick Nelson’s not even gay.
They look cute together I said what I said.
I hope he’s not leading Charlie on, I’d have to unstan.
Charlie Spring is trying to turn Nick Nelson into a queer! Yet another example of homos being predatory.
They’re such a power couple omggg!
He felt like he was going to be sick.
In the background, he heard Nick’s teammates talking to the reporter.
“Oh yeah, Charlie’s a great guy. We’ve hung out with him a few times, he’s really supportive of the team.” James explained.
“We’ve all gotten close with Charlie and the others on Team GB’s relay squad over these last few weeks. We’re all good mates!” Marcus added with a chuckle, clearly attempting to lighten the mood and divert the attention away from his teammate.
Coach Singh folded her hands on the table in front of her, her demeanor calm but threatening as she addressed the reporter. “We will only be taking rugby-related questions, thank you. We welcome the next reporter, please.”
Nick was still silent at the opposite end of the panel, looking small as he stared blankly down at the white table.
Charlie felt his heart shatter.
“I’m…I’m gonna go.” He swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat, setting his teammate’s phone down on the sofa before he stood from the floor.
“What?” Christian’s jaw hung open in shock as he looked up at Charlie from the floor. “We have to find out what creep leaked this picture!”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s done.” Charlie chuckled dryly, chewing down hard on his lip to contain the tears that were beginning to form just beneath the surface of his lashes.
In his pocket, Charlie’s phone vibrated twice. He sniffed as he grabbed for it, feeling the concerned stares of his teammates as he read the newest message.
Nick: can we talk when I get back? roof?
On the tablet screen, which must have been delaying the live broadcast by at least thirty seconds, Charlie watched as Nick typed out the message underneath the table. The rugby player tucked away his phone and looked back up toward the press crowd, but his eyes were unfocused and his face was stone-like.
Charlie let out a shaky breath, knuckles splotched white as he gripped the phone in his hands.
Really, he shouldn’t be surprised that something went wrong. His entire journey in Paris seemed too good to be true. A silver medal in the relay, a chance to race for gold in his individual race, and a blossoming romance with one of the most amazing guys he’s ever met? Please. Things like that didn’t happen to Charlie, and his luck was bound to run out at some point.
His phone was overflowing with messages from his friends and family, but Charlie couldn’t find it in himself to explain to them what had happened. He still didn’t even really know what happened, or what was going to happen after he talked to Nick.
“I’m really sorry, Charlie,” Nick’s voice was clear in his mind, dripping with regret. They were standing side by side on the roof, but the rugby player refused to meet his eyes, staring out at the city below them blankly. “I just…we can’t do this. It’s not worth it.”
Charlie’s fingers trembled as he typed out a response, and he hesitantly hit send, sealing his heart’s own grave.
Charlie: yeah.