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It starts off simple, when he’s a kid. Mum says to eat at least one piece of fruit a day, so baby Nick toddles into the kitchen to grab a banana, a baby tangerine, whatever’s available, every noon.
When he gets older, the rules multiply in number. Don’t let David know Mum bought you a new set of Legos. Don’t bother Dad when he’s watching rugby in the living room. Help Mum with the cooking whenever you can, because Dad doesn’t. Feed Nellie every day.
And when his Dad and Mum start arguing, sniping at each other over family dinners, Nick keeps his head down, tries to ignore the tension in the room, and new rules start forming. Don’t mention France around Mum. Don’t tell Dad about the paperwork Mum looks up on the Internet when she thinks you’re watching cartoons. Avoid David at all costs.
Divorce paperwork is filed. Dad moves away to France. Mum becomes sad, melancholy. She seems washed out, almost grey, David becomes unbearable. He starts making snide comments about how round Nick’s face is, his general lack of muscle, how many times he eats crisps a day. You’re only allowed one snack a day. Sugar every other day. Go out and run a kilometre every day. Practice rugby in the backyard, when David’s not home.
As David goes off to university, and it’s just him and Mum, the rule-making subsides. He’s happy having Nellie and Mum all to himself, but the rules stay. He likes the control, the familiarity and the safety as school gets harder and harder. If he can’t control life, he’ll control the things he can.
Then Year 11 begins. And Charlie Spring enters his life.
.
Charlie Spring is more perceptive than people give him credit for. He notices those who give him disgusted looks in the halls after he comes out, and those who seem to want to talk to him but are swept along by their group of friends.
(He keeps those names in his head, and pretends to be surprised when they show up to their 10-year class reunion with boyfriends, husbands.)
He notices how Tao seems so hesitant to admit that he likes Elle, doesn’t bring up the fact that his parents don’t sleep in the same room and barely talk to each other. He notices how Aled wears long sleeves in the summer, how Tori shuts herself in her room and comes out with puffy eyes, blaming it on eating instant noodles the previous night.
So after everything happens in Year 10, getting together with Nick and the emotional ups and downs, he starts noticing things about his boyfriend.
.
The first sign comes when they hang out with Tao, Elle, Tara, and Darcy over the summer over milkshakes. Charlie’s having a good day, and happily orders a mocha one, hip-checking Darcy against a bench when she tries to steal his cherry.
Nick hangs back with Tao and Elle, who’ve already ordered, and seems engrossed in a conversation they’re having about what new artsy movie Tao has recently watched. Charlie can hear phrases like “That makes no fucking sense!” and “That’s the whole point!” floating in the wind.
Tara, Darcy, and him eventually make their way back to the table, still shoving and giggling. Charlie slides in next to Nick, and bumps his shoulder gently. “Your turn to order.”
Nick scrunches his nose at him, and Charlie’s heart does two backflips in his chest at how cute he looks. “I thought I’d be able to just share yours?” he says, looking sheepish.
Charlie mugs at him, and grabs Nick’s hand who’s slowly reaching for the cup. “Get your own,” he jokes, instantly regretting it when Nick’s face twists into something painful, expression wiped clean a second later.
“Sure,” Nick says, getting up, playfully pushing Charlie’s head into his milkshake with a smile that doesn’t seem real, smearing whipped cream on his nose, and upper lip.
Charlie watches his retreating back, wondering what that expression had meant -- but the thought is very rudely yanked out of his head after Tao loudly accuses him of staring at Nick’s ass, and Charlie almost climbs over the table to yank off his beanie.
.
The second sign comes when Charlie finally ( finally!! ) gets to stay over at Nick’s house. Their parents have agreed to a sleepover over the summer, and they’ve gorged themself on cake and are lying on the floor of Nick’s room, giggling.
Nick’s watch beeps twice, as it does every hour, and suddenly Nick sits up. “I’m going for a quick run, ok?” he says, rummaging around the room for his trainers. Charlie sits up in confusion.
“Why now? It’s like, 9 PM.”
Nick shrugs, and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon! Ten minutes, max.” He sidles out the room, and Charlie hears him thundering down the stairs.
Charlie lays back down, staring at the ceiling in confusion. Who decided to go for a run at 8 PM? He sighs, and grabs his mug off of Nick’s bedside table, and heads downstairs to get a cup of fresh tea.
Sarah Nelson is sitting in the kitchen, reading something on her tablet, and looks up and smiles when Charlie approaches.
“Hey there, I see Nick went on a run?” she says, getting up for the kettle.
Charlie flounders for a second, “Oh it’s ok, I can do that myself-- oh yeah, he did go on a run.” He pauses. “Does he do that often? He kind of just, left. Didn’t really leave any room for argument?”
Sarah smiles. “He does that a lot -- never misses a day of exercise. It’s a little strange, but he’s only going round the corner.” She busies herself fixing Charlie a cup of tea, grabbing honey and milk from the fridge.
“...really?” says Charlie, sitting down on a stool. “How interesting.”
(The thoughts fly out of his head as Nick comes back from his run, grinning and sweaty, crushing both Charlie and his mum in a hug.)
.
The third sign comes when they’re hanging out at Charlie’s house, slumped on each other on the couch.
“You’re only watching this because he’s hot right?” accuses Charlie, as Nick buries his face in his hands.
Nick’s ears flare red. “Who?”
“Don't pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about! Matt Murdock!”
“Shut up! I don’t want to miss anything!” Nick hooks one arm around Charlie’s chest. “I just…really, really, like the plot.”
Charlie shoves him, giggling madly. “I can’t believe this! Your boyfriend is literally right here and you’re thirsting over another man who’s old enough to be your dad!” He wriggles out of Nick’s grasp, as Nick buries his face in a decorative pillow. “You’re unbelievable!”
Charlie giggles all the way to the kitchen, where he grabs a packet of crisps. He’s gotten a lot better at reframing in terms of his anorexia, and he’s often comfortable enough to snack often throughout the day. “You want anything?” he calls, rummaging around in the cabinets for some chocolate milk.
There’s no reply, so Charlie asks again. “Uh, no, I’m all good,” calls back Nick, and there’s something in his voice that Charlie can’t place.
As Charlie walks back to the couch, Nick has his eyes firmly fixed on the TV, mouth flat. On screen, Matt Murdock is taking off a sopping wet shirt after being driven into the lake in a taxi.
“You good?” says Charlie, bumping shoulders with him. He tears open the crisps package, and holds the bag to Nick. If possible, his mouth tightens even further, and Nick shakes his head.
“I’m good,” he says, rather unconvincingly, crossing his arms.
Charlie doesn’t think too long about the fact that he’s never seen Nick eat a single snack in the year he’s known him. Instead, he compliments Matt Murdock’s abs, and the moment is gone, the two boys giggling and shoving each other.
.
The fourth sign:
It’s almost the end of a year, and everything is chugging along nicely. The house is quiet. Sarah had left for a girl’s night with some friends, trusting them enough to not do much else other than study. Charlie’s nearly done with his exams, and he’s lying on the floor of Nick’s bedroom, playing the Untitled Goose Game on his Switch. He’s honking furiously at a townsperson, trying to steal her broom, but she isn’t having it. Frustrated, he takes off his headphones, and looks up at Nick, who still has a full week of exams ahead of him.
Nick’s jaw is clenched in a way that can’t be comfortable, and is gripping his highlighter so hard that his knuckles have turned white.
“You good?” says Charlie, a question he seems to be asking a lot these days.
Nick squeezes his eyes shut, and jerks his head in a sharp nod. Charlie sits up, worried.
“You want to take a break? We could go get some ice cream, it’s just around the corner.” Apparently the wrong thing to say. Nick drops his highlighter with a clatter, and shoves the heels of his hands into his eye, breath hitching.
Oh shit , Charlie thinks, suddenly realising he’s never seen Nick cry, ever . He hurries over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, you’re ok,” he murmurs. Nick turns his face, still covered with his hands, into Charlie’s stomach.
Charlie takes that as permission to put his arms around him loosely, not wanting to feel like he’s trapping him. Nick’s breath hitches, and all Charlie can do is rub his back and wait it out. When Nick finally drops his hands from his face and pulls away, his eyes are still dry.
“Sorry,” he says, wincing. “Just a little stressed,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Charlie boops him on the nose. “Hey, hey, no s-word, remember? You’ve held me through so many freakouts, the least I could do is return the favour.” Charlie rests his head on top of Nick’s head, just for a second. “Let’s take a break, alright? We can go for a walk, and if you want, go get ice cream. But we don’t have to. Does that work?”
Nick jerks a nod, hands coming back up to rub his face roughly. “I love you,” he says softly, linking their hands.
“Right back at you,” says Charlie, smiling.
.
The fifth, and final sign, comes when Charlie finds Nick crying under the covers when they agreed to have a movie night.
Sarah had let him in, and said that Nick was waiting for him upstairs. Instead of finding him setting up the laptop or something like that, Charlie sees a lump on the bed, sobbing.
“FUCK!” he hears, and Nick pushes the covers off of himself and quickly wipes the tears away. “Hey, Char,” he says, weakly. “I lost track of time, what do you want to watch?”
The sudden 360 from sobbing under the covers to asking what he wanted to watch on movie night give Charlie whiplash. “You ok?” he asks, sitting down on the bed next to Nick. “Seriously. You’ve been…a little off lately, and I wasn't sure how to bring it up.”
He sees Nick’s composure crack, just a little. “Nah, I’m good,” he says, fake-cheerily. “You know, we could always watch that indie film Tao recommended. You seemed to really be into the synopsis.”
“No, I’m serious,” says Charlie, intently. He takes one of Nick’s hands. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Seriously. Anything. If you want to cry all evening, I’ll be here. But we gotta talk about this in one shape or another, alright?”
Nick’s chin wobbles, and he tugs his hand out of Charlie’s grasp to scrub at his eyes. His breath catches, and the floodgates break. He’s choking, sobbing, and Charlie wraps him up in a gigantic hug.
“I w- wanted to tell you so much,” sobs Nick. “But it’s against the rules,” he hiccups, clutching onto Charlie.
Charlie strokes his hair, a million questions popping into his head, mind spiralling in a bunch of directions, not all of them good. Was he being secretly abused?
“What rules, hm?” he says, instead, trying to be as neutral as possible.
“I- I-, fuck!” exclaims Nick, shoulders shaking. “I just, just, have, rules ,” he gets out, before the crying starts up again.
Charlie sits with him for the better part of half an hour, just hugging and rocking him. Once Nick has cried himself all out, they curl up in bed, and Nick hesitantly starts to explain.
“It’s stupid, and I know logically it’s something I shouldn’t be doing, you know?” Nick begins, still hiccuping. “But like, it’s just that I have these rules . About what I should and shouldn’t do each day. I don’t know when it started, or when it even why. Maybe it’s some fucking childhood memory that I repressed. But I like having control. That’s half of why I hate drinking so much.” ” Nick takes a deep breath.
Charlie takes a deep breath as well. This conversation is veering very close to boundaries of his eating disorder, and the want for control is startling close to what he had dealt with the past year.
Nick looks ashamed, and hides his face in his hands. “I just…set rules for myself. Go exercise once a day. Eat a fruit once a day, something like that. Those are okay, those make sense, logically, anyone could have those. But the ones that veer into, like, the unhealthy category…” Nick curls his hands into tight fists. “I’m sorry if this is not great for you,” Nick says, noticing Charlie’s uneasy expression. “I’m, uh, fine. It’s all fine.”
Charlie mock glares at him. “What did we say about the s-word?” Nick looks chastened, eyes tired. “I’m fine, Nicholas. You’ve been sitting on this for god knows how long -- I’m your boyfriend. I’m here for you.”
Nick sighs, scrubbing at his eyes again. “I dunno when it devolved. Like one sugary item a day, I can’t cry in front of others, I just… My brain catastrophizes when I don’t follow them..” he trails off, staring blankly at the wall. “I know it’s not healthy. But I…I just like having them. It’s just a safety net, you know?” he sniffs, and Charlie sees a few stray tears escape.
Charlie wraps him up in another hug, and presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “I’m so proud of you for telling me. But remember the conversation you said you had with your mum? Sometimes people need professional help, no matter how supporting the people around them are. And…” he trails off, gauging Nick’s face for any reaction.
“Yeah, I know,” says Nick, defeated. “I’m tired of fighting myself.”
.
Nick slowly but surely gets better. He starts seeing a therapist. He writes in a journal, and comes to Charlie whenever his brain tries to fight him on things he wants to do. They’ve had tons of practice with Charlie’s ED, but somehow, it’s strange when the roles are reversed.
Charlie sits with Nick as they both eat their second dessert of the day, Nick almost choking on every bite. He sits with him as he sobs under the blankets, silent but there. Him getting better isn’t a straight path, but nothing in life is every straight.
Nick still has bad days. He leaves one day in the middle of a movie night with Tao and Elle to go run laps around the neighbourhood, and Charlie stands with him in the Xu’s kitchen until his brain stops spiralling.
Slowly, the rules fade away, a thing of the past. Nick sets healthy schedules, continues writing in his journal, and leans on Charlie and the people around him.
In the end, there’s only one rule: fuck your rules.