Chapter Text
The August weather was uncharacteristically pleasant for Soho, and patrons crammed into every nook and cranny of “the Octavia”. It was extremely loud and busy, just how Charlie liked it. It allowed him to ignore all of his crippling anxieties and focus on the needs of others. He depressed the beer tap slowly as it filled the glass, rolling his eyes as the 40th “Jasper '' of the evening swiped his debit card on the reader, taking the rest of the beers he had painstakingly poured. It was unusual to most of his coworkers that he took pride in pulling pints and making cocktails, but it allowed him linear steps to focus on.
All of the summer sun of the day had dissolved into the night and Charlie had approximately 2 more hours until things began slowing down. He swiped his rag over the counter but he grimaced as it slid along with sticky resistance. He pulled himself a pint of apple cider and let out a soft sigh as he swallowed the cold carbonated liquid. He really wasn’t one for beer or ale, but had always found the sweetness of cider to be one that would quench his thirst and satiate his want for alcohol whilst maintaining most of his faculties.
“Oi. Charlie. Take that out on a break” came the bellow of the landlord Mark as he nodded towards the back of the pub, wearing his best parental glare.
He rolled his eyes and made his way out from behind the bar, pint in hand. His hands ghosted the hips of his colleague Rachel as he shuffled behind her in the small space. She was having an all too serious conversation with a drunk brunette about who put the bubbles in champagne and he couldn’t help but give her a smile as he moved past.
His usual seat in the beer garden was empty to his surprise and he plonked himself down in the darkened corner; cider resting in front of him. The air was colder now that the sun had gone down, and he tugged at his black t-shirt that hugged his slight frame, trying to gain a few more degrees of warmth from it. No use.
The habitual need to grab his phone won out and he pulled it from his pocket typing out a message, sipping at his drink.
Charlie: How’s your evenings going? Mark’s forcing me to have a break.
Isaac: What a twat. I’ll be right there, in 1-2 hours at the behest of our fine rail services…
Elle: Tao is forcing me to watch Inception. Maybe i’ll just walk to you. Gimme 45. *brb*
Tao: Watch the film Elle. The ending is phenomenal.
Elle: *sigh* Sorry Charlie. Tao's being a real Mark. Have a nice evening boo, see you Sunday!
Isaac: Can hardly wait.
Charlie: Love you all. I’m gonna stare at my phone now until Mark lets me back inside. See you all on Sunday. <3
Charlie pulled his vape pen from his pocket and put it to his lips, chewing it nervously as he often did when he had nothing better to do. He’d long since gotten bored of vaping but missed the sensation of having it resting between his lips. Geoff, his therapist, would probably have something disgustingly phallic to say about it.
The usual calm chatter of the garden had become more raucous with entitled financial types gathering in droves. He checked his emails and scrolled through Instagram for 15 minutes, his knees pulled to his chest on the bench he was perched on. Once he was bored of his phone he drained the rest of his drink and stood up, keeping his eyes focused towards the large slabs of stone covering the patio area and heading back into the warmth.
“Did you see him?” Mark asked, grabbing him by his arm as he walked through the arched doorway.
“Shit Mark, you’ll give me a heart attack. Give me a hint.” He snapped once he’d regained his ability to breathe normally, pulling his arm from the other man’s grip. The bar was steadily beginning to fill up again, the younger crowd asking for more obnoxiously named cocktails with copious amounts of edible glitter.
“Nick Nelson. The England Rugby Captain. Jez said she saw him go out with those lads to the garden. Hulking ginger chap.” He continued, only fractionally quieter than his usual voice.
Charlie was fairly certain his blank stare gave away that he had zero interest in what he was saying but decided to verbalise it as well for good measure.
“I saw a bunch of lads that looked like rugby lads. I don’t really care to be honest, Mark. Can I just go back to work now?” He asked, the growing number of unserved patrons making him increasingly more anxious. He chewed his lip and bounced lightly on his feet, trying to avoid Rachel’s pleading looks whilst he waited for the man in front of him to give him an answer.
Mark looked at him and sighed with a disapproving nod. Charlie couldn’t give less of a shit when “a-listers” came into their pub, but apparently Mark turned into a 13 year old girl at the slightest presence of someone from the telly. He made a mental note to tell his group of friends about Nick Nelson as they always liked to hear about the antics of those in the spotlight.
The patrons were somewhat well behaved for a Friday night as he mixed what felt like his thousandth cosmo of the night. He poured it into the glass and garnished it with a small umbrella, passing it to the giggly blonde leaning on the bar in front of him. Her hair was perfectly curled, makeup painstakingly applied, and silk dress pressed to within an inch of its life. She was also leaning in a puddle of spirits that he hadn’t got to yet, and didn’t have the heart to point out to her.
"Y'know. You're really cute. You remind me of my first boyfriend Oren. He had curly hair like yours." She mused, taking the drink and reaching her other hand out to wind one of his curls around her finger haphazardly. The act of her leaning over the bar meant that her breasts were spilling out of the burgundy dress and he shook his head minutely, raising an eyebrow at her in the hopes she would get the hint and move back.
The sudden movement had clearly caught the eye of his red headed coworker as she made her way down to his end of the bar quickly, her black heeled boots clicking against the hard flooring.
"Now, now. Hands off the merchandise, this isn’t Coyote Ugly." Rachel said, moving closer to him, furrowing her brow.
The blonde unwound her finger with difficulty and gave Rachel an exaggerated pout. She rolled her eyes at the woman and helped her to untangle her finger. Charlie gave Rachel a thankful look.
"You've seen him though righ-?" The blonde slurred again, smacking her lips together loudly to blow him a kiss, before turning her attention back to Rachel.
"I can reassure you that as his colleague of 4 years I've most certainly seen him." The redhead responded tiredly. She raised an eyebrow at Charlie that conveyed why are you putting up with this? And he merely shrugged with a smile. The hijinks of well meaning drunks actually didn’t bother him. He found it strangely endearing in a way.
"Your friends will be missing you. Off you go." He said eventually, when it was clear she wasn't getting the hint. She put her drink on the bar and then her phone joined it with a clatter. He winced at the harsh sound it made but couldn't help but laugh.
"Can you put your number in here?" she asked, poking her phone screen with her index finger.
"As you asked so nicely. I just changed my number though so I need to just check it." He said as he pulled his phone from his pocket, a smirk playing on his lips.
Rachel gave him a confused look but was thankfully flagged down by a patron for a beer and he was able to continue his master plan. He held the phone up to her face and was satisfied when it clicked to confirm it had been unlocked. The girl was thankfully patient as she sipped her drink, fishing the cherry out with her tongue. He guessed this was supposed to be a sensual display, but looked more like she was playing a drunken game of Hungry Hippos.
"Bonnie." she said, offering her hand to him clumsily as he pressed the device back into her hand, closing her fingers around it.
"Charlie. Pleased to meet you." He took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. Geoff had told him to be more confident, and apparently today he had chosen heterosexual displays of affection. Her hand was small and warmer than those he was used to, and left a light sweet residue on his lips. The origin of this substance wasn’t one he wanted to consider.
"Bonnie. Put the poor man down. C'mon." A tall brunette shot him an apologetic smile as she curled her arm around her friend's waist and pulled her away from the bar. Bonnie gave him a wave and a wink over her shoulder and he laughed again. The idea that anyone would actually find him attractive was a foreign one to him, and her blood alcohol level combined with her picturing her lost love made him feel better about it.
"The hell was that about? You promised me if you ever turned straight I was your first call." Rachel said, sidling up to him and slinging an arm around his waist loosely. He looked down at her and smirked, brushing a lock of red hair from her face and behind her ear.
"You know you're my one and only go-to straight date." He purred at her, trying not to laugh.
"Charlie Spring. You're a heartbreaker. What will you tell Bonnie when she texts you incessantly?"
"You mean when she texts Mark?" He asked, raising one eyebrow and finally laughing.
"Can you fucking not?" came the familiar drawl and Charlie felt his stomach sink instantly. He felt Rachel stiffen beside him as she unwound her arm from around him and patted his arm gently before going to busy herself at the other end of the bar.
"Sorry Ben." He murmured, pulling a pint and passing it over the bar to him. He hissed under his breath as Ben caught his hand as he passed it over and dug his fingernails in.
"I won't forget that." He said menacingly, finally releasing when little pricks of blood began forming under his nails.
Ben took his pint and went to sit in the garden for a smoke like he always did. Charlie took a deep breath and let it out raggedy. It took everything in him not to cry: he couldn't. Not here. Not like this.
"I'm sorry Charlie. I didn't see the time." Rachel sighed as she walked back over when the coast was clear. She looked at his hands and he placed his left over his right to conceal the marks.
"Not your fault. I'm just glad he wasn't here when I was giving Bonnie Mark's number." He said with a sad sigh, glad that Mark appeared to be too busy gossiping to pay attention to what he was saying.
The next half an hour went by relatively uneventfully and he was relieved to see Bonnie had drunkenly waved and left with her friends shortly after Ben had gone outside. He pulled another pint and walked outside to bring it to Ben. The chill in the air was more apparent now and he cursed himself for not bringing his jumper. Ben often told him that his fuzzy jumpers made him look like a child so he often left them at home in the back of the wardrobe.
"Finally." A harsh voice cut through the calm of the beer garden adorned with fairy lights and patio heaters. Charlie turned to see Ben was sitting with the "rugby lads" as Mark had put it, and not at his usual table. He walked over and passed the drink to him silently, keeping his eyes on the floor. "C'mon lads. Next rounds on me. This one can't say no." Ben said, roughly patting Charlie's arm. He flinched and kept his eyes on the floor with a quick nod.
The orders were as predictable as ever and he all but ran away once they'd all asked for their IPA and bitter of choice. The bar had thankfully emptied out and he recited the order to Rachel before crouching down, his forearms on his knees, forcing himself to drag in breaths. It felt like fire every time he forced the air into his lungs, and it was times like his he wished he could just stop caring.
"What are you doing down.. Oh…" The stranger's voice was smooth but clearly tinged with alcohol. Fuck.
"Rach has it." He offered when he forced himself to stand up, he flashed his eyes toward the man in front of the bar and was surprised to see the living embodiment of "England's Rugby King" standing in front of him. Rachel came over quickly with the tray, putting it down in front of them, spilling a little in her haste.
"Nick." The man in front of him offered and Charlie raised his eyes to look at him properly, surprised to see the warmth that radiated from the other man's amber eyes. The pictures in the papers really didn't do him any justice. His auburn hair was a little messier now and he couldn't help but feel bad when Nick raked a hand through his hair.
"Nelson. I've heard." He sighed, forcing himself to look back at the weathered bar he'd spent so much time examining. The residual tears pricked his eyes and he pressed his palms into his eyes briefly with a deep breath.
The air in the pub felt oppressive for the first time in a long time and he wrapped an arm around himself protectively. Those who frequented the bar were used to the antics and were waiting quietly at the other end of the bar for Rachel to serve them. She lent over to press a quick kiss to his cheek and made her way back down the bar to the growing, but patient, crowd.
The feeling of Nick Nelson staring at him was arresting and he turned to face the barrage of spirits that lined the mirrored walls.
"Shots?" He asked, keeping his focus on the shot glass he was filling, trying to ignore the glimpse of Nick he could see between the bottles in the reflection.
"I probably shouldn't. I have a few things to do tomorrow."
"Celebrity shit? Got it." Charlie added when he had finally turned back around. The white spirit stung the back of his throat momentarily and he dragged in a quick breath, hoping to swallow his anxiety with the liquor. The second shot went down easier.
The auburn haired man raised an eyebrow then shook his head, opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again.
"I was just- Okay." Nick muttered under his breath finally and then grabbed one of the drinks in one hand, outstretching his arm, debit card in the other.
"Pop it on here." Nick said, his eyes focused on him but a sadness had infected them. Charlie couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at being somewhat responsible. The discomfort between them hung heavily in the air. He wondered whether it was heavy enough that the others in the bar could feel it too.
"Like Ben said. I'll pay for it." He said, ringing it up on the till and pulling his card from his pocket. His teeth worried his bottom lip again as he could feel the other man's gaze still on him; burning him like the clear spirit had. Ben’s name brought up feelings he’d rather not talk about, and he could feel the tears threatening to overwhelm him again.
Nick's raised voice broke him from his reverie.
"No. I'll pay." He insisted, thrusting his card forward. Charlie nodded gratefully at Rachel who had passed him another drink and patted him reassuringly on the arm in passing. He cancelled the current transaction and re-entered it, putting the card machine in front of him.
"Charlie. I thought it was clear you would pay for our friend. For fucks sake." Ben's inebriated drawl carried through the bar and he couldn't help but wince again. Ben slammed his hand down on Charlie's wrist where he went to pick up Nick's card and was surprised when Nick bristled. The pain shot through his wrist and for a moment he felt sick, uncertain whether the crunch was just superficial or the sound of breaking bone.
"Do you wanna let go mate?" He asked, puffing his chest noticeably, hand on Ben's arm.
Great. This was the last thing he needed. He was fully aware Ben shouldn't be manhandling him. Definitely not in public; even though he deserved it. He was also aware that every time people had tried to step in it had gotten much worse.
Ben took his hand off of Charlie's with a dramatic flourish, holding his hands up in a show of peace. His gaze lingered on Charlie before moving to Nick.
"Alright man, he likes it but yeah. Let's go back out, yeah?" He said with a shrug, the rage in his eyes simmered as he turned his focus entirely to Nick.
The shame of the situation made him feel sick and he was sure what little colour he had in his cheeks had drained. Ben walked out of the bar and back into the night and Charlie let out his first full breath for a while. Nick shot him a look over his shoulder as he left with Ben and he could have sworn he'd seen empathy there.
Ben's arm hung heavily over Charlie's shoulder as he stumbled down the streets of London. Ben was, as always, absolutely plastered. His breath was hot on Charlie's neck, stopping occasionally to push him against the nearest hard surface, planting drunken kisses on his neck. Charlie pushed down the bile that rose in his throat and he gave in, leaning against the cold bricks. He grabbed at the bricks with his fingers, feeling a strange kind of relief as the roughness scratched his fingers.
"Whose are you Charlie?" Ben purred in his ear, the scent of old beer lingering on his breath.
"Yours Ben." He said, trying to keep the indifference from his voice. The placating seemed to work for the moment as Ben pressed his body against him, biting his neck harshly before soothing it with his tongue.
"C'mon. We're nearly back." He said after allowing his mind to wander during Ben's ministrations. He tipped his head back against the wall, staring up at the dark sky to allow Ben more access. He'd just roughly demand it anyway.
"What if I want you here? Right now. You're mine, Charlie. You have to give me what I want."
"I really don't-"
Crack
Ben pulled Charlie's curls and forced his head against the wall.
"Not listening to me, Charlie." He slurred, keeping his fingers tight in his hair. The cold of the evening only served to numb the spot on his head as quickly as the flash of pain hit.
The rest of the night was a blur. His forehead was grazed where it had been forced against the brickwork and he sighed as he pressed the antiseptic wipe to it. He choked out an incredulous laugh at the juxtaposition of the soft lighting of the bathroom and his sallow features.
Ben was thankfully passed out when he eventually crept out of the bathroom, bypassing the bed and walking down the hallway. He let the soft sofa envelop him as he curled up at one end, cushion hugged tightly to his chest. He pulled his phone from his pocket and sighed as he logged into the pub's Instagram account.
One new follow : @nicholaszzzzz
I hope you enjoyed your evening at the Octavia. Charlie typed and hit send, locking his phone and closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before the events of the evening and the exhaustion overtook him and he let the warmth of unconsciousness drag him under.