Chapter Text
Keen eyes caught the light-haired head on the body that slunk in at the back of the group of people.
Charlie quirked an interested eyebrow as he watched from his seat in the dusty wing-backed chair, arms folded gently in his lap. The briefest glance at the plastic analog clock on the wall showed it was nearly time to start the group.
Cutting it close, he observed as his eyes fell to the man’s trainers. Worn and scuffed but nice ones. Sporty? Charlie’s brows twitched together for the briefest second, the same moment that his subject caught sight of him watching. Those were the kindest eyes he’d seen in a very long time, and it almost threw him off balance. Then there was the way that there was none of the hetero-awkwardness in the quick seconds that they locked eyes.
...Gay?
Charlie broke eye contact and glanced around for something to do.
“Alright everyone,” he called evenly, his voice carrying to the corners of the room with ease. He deliberately kept his eyes away from the newest addition to their group. Actually, he corrected himself as he took stock of the settling crowd, there’s a couple more new ones today. He cleared his throat, always slightly awkward at being the center of attention, but he was more used to it here than anywhere else.
“It’s good to see you all again,” he said as he nodded at a couple of regulars he was facing on the opposite side of the multi-layer circle of mis-matched chairs. “I know it’s nippy out there, so thank you for coming out despite the weather,” he added gratefully. It really did please him to see so many there. The group had grown in the last year and a half from five of them to about fifteen or twenty on a particularly busy night like tonight.
Sometimes he missed the intimacy of those early meetings where everyone knew each other’s names and gave each other plenty of time to talk about what they needed to say, but he couldn’t complain about more people seeking comfort and support because that lifted his spirit. These people made him feel a little more solid just by being there.
“The theme for tonight is, as you know—” Charlie let his eyes sweep over the group as he tried to connect with everyone for half a second, “—gratitude.”
There was some movement from a few, and it was impossible for him to miss the uncomfortable shift of Mister Sporty and the way his eyes danced around worriedly. Not that unusual for an anxiety and phobia support group, honestly. Charlie gave the barest smile at him and was glad when he caught his gaze for a moment. The uncertainty he observed didn’t lessen, but the man’s lips hesitantly reciprocated the friendliness. That filled him with a little swell of good feeling that bolstered him to continue. He glanced away.
“I’d like to hear what you’re grateful for because we all have something we ought to be grateful for, and it’s important that we acknowledge that. Even if it’s just that you’re grateful that you could make it here tonight.”
Charlie saw some skepticism in a few of them which he expected, and some others nodded sagely. He resisted the urge to check which Sporty was.
“I’ll go first,” he offered, as he usually did. His hands rubbed over his thighs in a fidgety way, and he hooked them just below his knees which was easy with his long arms. Resisting the uncomfortable clench of his jaw, he went on. “My name is Charlie, and I’m grateful for my sister,” he rushed out. “She’s…” sneaky, sardonic, sarcastic, funny “…caring, and she asks me how I am and actually cares about the answer. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” That was certainly the truth.
Jaw relaxed now that his turn was over, he let out a long, slow breath and looked around at some familiar and newer faces. Many little smiles greeted him, and he returned it shyly. This time he deliberately sought out the light hair and trainers, and the kindness behind the smile he found was so open and genuine that Charlie’s heart stuttered a long second. God, okay. He gulped as he looked away in vague and mild panic but the good kind. He missed the next two people’s responses trying to right himself but nodded along anyway.
Eventually, it came time for the worn trainers to share, and Charlie could tell he wasn’t enjoying the attention. He stumbled a little and mostly looked down at said items as he shifted in his seat.
“I guess I, well, I am grateful for—my dog. Yes, right, my dog, Otis, and I—”
Charlie winced internally in sympathy. He sounded like he was really struggling, but he looked quite cute while he was doing it. His answer was also adorable. He spoke about his pet like he was a family member, and Charlie’s heart gushed farther. Enough, he admonished himself silently, and his hands clenched around the edge of the cushion he sat on.
“—I know he’s always pleased to see me and never really asks for anything except a walk and some pets,” he finished and finally looked up from his laces. With a little nibble at his lip in shyness, those brown eyes found Charlie’s again, and Charlie made a split-second decision to not hide his fondness in their brief exchange.
“Is all right lad,” rumbled an older man named Rufus who happened to be sitting next to the brown-eyed, sporty, questionably-queer newcomer. A large hand landed on his shoulder, and Charlie watched him wince with the force but it was sweet that he still smiled at him despite that. Charlie noted then that he was a good person. “Ay’ve never been w’thout one in forty years. There’s nothin’ like it.”
There were murmurs of assent, and Charlie smiled gently at the embarrassment and shyness of him that seemed to only be increasing the longer the seconds went on. He tried to hurry it on. “Thank you,” Charlie directed at him. “What was your name?” Sly, Mr. Spring.
Those kind eyes looked at him directly, the mild fear he had seen clearing a bit as his features relaxed infinitesimally. Charlie noticed it all and soaked up the information greedily.
“Um, Nick,” he said a bit awkwardly.
“Thank you, Nick,” he replied quickly. He let the smile show in his tone as he glanced away. “Who’s next?” he prodded the group. Someone raised a hand and he nodded at them and kept his eyes off Nick to set an example for the rest of them. He felt almost protective of him immediately which was a bit odd, but he decided not to fight the instinct.
More people shared, some more emotional than others, some taking seconds to speak and some using many minutes.
“Does anyone want to share any challenges from their week?” Charlie offered as he always did, and that typically carried them through the rest of the hour and sometimes over. This week there was one woman who sought some insight into how she was supposed to get over her fear of flying to be able to visit her boyfriend’s family in Romania, and people chipped in where they could, suggesting therapy, pills, and asking jokingly how much exactly did she like her boyfriend and if the stress was worth it. Charlie cringed a bit at that, but he did suggest that she share her worry with her partner so that she didn’t feel so isolated with her fear and stress, and that made her smile a little and say she would consider it. That brought them to about ten minutes over their allotted time with the community room in the Enfield library. It was time to wrap up.
“We’ll see each other next week; the theme is ‘hope.’ Oh, please don’t forget to sign up for our ‘Non-Denominational, Non-Discriminational, Angst-Free Fête’ on the bulletin board with what you’re planning to bring written next to your first name only,” Charlie reminded them, and the group disbanded fairly quickly after that.
Stalling a bit by slowly cleaning up the small tea and coffee station, Charlie surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder and was slightly disappointed to see that Sporty Nick had gone already. Oh well, he thought and sighed loudly.
“Er, Charlie?”
He flung a sleeve of paper cups halfway across the room in surprise. Realizing what was happening immediately, he thought it would be far less embarrassing to simply stand and stare at them strewn across the floor.
“Oh! God, I’m SO sorry,” Nick fumbled over himself trying to pick up the cups and Charlie had to hold in his laughter, but it was so adorable to see him be so helpful.
“Nick,” Charlie tried to stop him halfheartedly. “Nick, it’s okay—really—” He watched him re-fumble some cups and bit his lip hard to stay silent. It actually became quite unfortunate when Nick ducked under the table and bumped his head coming back up, and Charlie immediately reached to grab the wayward cups out of his hands so he didn’t think he was just watching him suffer.
Nick was rubbing his head and his cheeks were a bit rosy, but that could have been from the thick jumper and the jacket over it that he wore. He winced slightly as he stood back up, a little stiff-looking.
“Sorry,” Nick apologized earnestly. He slipped his hands into his pockets and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Charlie felt bad then, even though it was no one’s fault. He smiled a little.
“If you wanted a drink, Nick, all you had to do is say so,” he told him a bit loftily, mouth quirked.
Nick’s eyes flashed up then to check if he was serious, but he let out a breath after a second and nodded in relieved yet tired agreement.
“Well, uh, anyway, what I was going to ask you was: is the holiday fête thing happening here or, y’know, somewhere else? Kind of wish I hadn’t bothered though.” He gestured toward the floor behind him with a vaguely annoyed set to his mouth.
Charlie’s stomach tugged a little happily, and he forced himself not to stare at Nick’s lips. A slow kiss on those—
“Here,” he cut off his own thoughts purposefully and finished putting everything at the drink station where it was meant to be, nice and tidy. “It’s here and it’s free, and you don’t have to bring anything if you don’t want to or can’t afford it. We’ve had a few monetary donations to get some decorations together, and some fizzy drinks and things,” he continued dismissively with a shrug. Charlie glanced back at him when he didn’t immediately answer to find Nick giving him a strange and thoughtful look. “What?” Charlie asked, slightly spooked by the keen gaze.
“And by ‘donations’… do you mean your own pocket?” Nick asked with a tone that made it sound like he already knew the answer.
Charlie froze halfway through throwing his coat back on and blinked dumbly at him. Beg pardon?
“Um… maybe,” he conceded reluctantly, bewildered by how he’d given himself away, and, in fact, sure he hadn’t.
Nick nodded with a pleased expression and gave him a sort of combination laugh-grin that took Charlie aback with its sincerity. It made him gulp inaudibly and unsure of what else to say. Can you be into men please? Or Charlie-curious, single, and looking to warm up on cold afternoons with your hand under my shirt? Charlie shivered and swallowed.
“That’s really nice of you Charlie,” Nick said with total sincerity, and Charlie’s insides didn’t really know what to do, so they went in many directions while his brain forgot how to speak.
“Not really,” Charlie mumbled and shrugged to the floor. He was an odd mix of insecure, baffled, and intrigued.
“Anyway.” Nick’s arms were forcefully pushing down into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, and have a good week.” His voice turned monotone, and he smiled a weak and polite smile.
Charlie’s mouth blurted before he gave it permission. “See you next week?”
A brief nod and then Nick was gone and leaving Charlie to stare at the place he’d just been. The room felt twice as empty as it had before.