Love is Unkind

by seddiefan11

Summary:

Noel and Misha were sure the hardest thing they'd ever face was surviving the cyclone accident, but then years later, life makes it clear the hardest thing they need to survive is the battles they cause themselves.

Chapter 1: You so easily can make me cry just 'cause you were in a mood....

Summary:

Misha has a bad day. Noel overhears him venting because of it, and the day gets a lot worse for both of them.

Notes:

Hello!! It's my 22nd overall work and my 8th RTC/nisha fic!! And you're here to be part of the journey I hope doesn't stop anytime soon!!

If you know me, welcome back! If not, I'm sierra! And I'm here to make you cry! :D /hj /lh

This fic is definitely a more serious one, as I tend to do more of for plot reasons when it's multichap, but this might be the most serious one yet. Will add tags as needed and always TW tho, don't worry!

If you like pain, buckleup!!

Also if you're like me and always worried they're gonna like die or breakup and can't handle reading that without knowing just lmk! I get it! But if you know me you should know WHY I get it and how unlikely that is to happen lmao.

TW// Crying and hurt

Worocunt is only 2.1k but lowkey this feels like a prolgue almost, so I can't tell you what the other chaps will be. I NEVER know and planning doesn't work for that either. So! It'll be like a surprise!

I originally wrote this as a oneshot I was gonna do a sequel to. Then I was like "I could maybe make a short multichap with this" and thought i'd maybe write 5-8 chapters. But no. Ofc not. As I said PLANNING NEVER WORKS. So now I have this outline predicting 20 chapters.

Whoops.

But that's not a bad thing if this turns out good and you enjoy it!

Chapter titles are going back to song lyrics, I like doing that when I can :) This one is from change by Banks, only fitting since the whole fic is named after a song of hers!

It'll be interesting getting to dabble into some of these themes, but also know if I ever mess up, call me out on it! I have personal experience with some, others I have some beta help for, and I just always wanna be safest! Just be kind and know it's not my intention if it happens.

I've been told I'm very empathic though, so I hope when I use Noel as my punching bag I can be a LIL gentle maybe.....I LOVE HIM OKAY I SWEAR LMAO.

I just also love some good angst!

If you do too? Enjoy the first chapter!!

 

Life wasn’t easy straight out of college. Noel and Misha and the rest of the choir who all decided to stay together back in Uranium City were learning that the hard way. It was a dying town, and all things there seemed to die with it. Trying to prosper, even survive at times felt too hard for them. 

 

Noel and Misha had been dating a while and had a place together. Luckily one good thing about a dying town was places in it were fairly cheap. Other things could break your bank, like utilities and such, but they had a place to stay together. They swore if they had that, they’d get through the rest, and they were trying but it was hard. Having each other’s love might have been the only reason they were. 

 

The job options weren’t the best and the treatment of Noel as a gay man in his and the treatment of Misha as someone from a foreign country also made things harder. They figured if they could just make it through. They didn’t have to stay forever, but if they did, if they could just climb up the ladder a bit, it’d be worth it. 

 

Right now they were at the bottom rung though, having been at their jobs for less than a year. Not much movement to make at that point, but a lot of consequences. Stress, pressure, mistreatment, and the salary all held their own weight on them. 

 

For Noel, a good destresser for a Friday night before bed was a shower. A nice hot shower to himself and then off to bed with Misha smelling like roses. He needed the warmth, and the comfort, and the Misha. 

 

The stars were always quite visible in Uranium City, he could often see the North Star from his very own window. He peered out as he tried to gather some of his shower stuff and saw it up in the navy sky. A signal for home and safety, just like his own in the other room. 

 

Then it hit him. The other room. Their room. It was where he left the laundry he had done earlier, which included his towel. Sure, they were adults and they lived together. They could see each other naked and it’d be fine, but he didn't need to drip water on vintage hardwoods. They had a deposit to keep and zero extra money to cover it. 

 

He wasn’t wet yet, hadn’t even gotten undressed yet, so he figured he’d just make the trip back into the room. It was just on the other side of the hall anyway. He got out of the bathroom after putting his stuff down and approached the bedroom, which had its door wide open. 

 

He stopped in front of it, noticing Misha was still inside, yet talking. His tone was annoyed, which he did notice happened more often now, but this felt like a complete vent-session. To himself? No. Noel realized quickly that even though his back was to him, he had his cellphone to his ear. 

 

He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he felt like he could never help Misha when he got stressed. Noel got stressed too, he really did, but he had some outlets. Misha’s were more niche and not as simple as a shower or a good book. Maybe if he heard him without any filter just vent he could understand his hardships better. 

 

“It’s honestly annoying at this point!” 

 

Noel’s head leaned against the doorframe, focused on what he was saying. 

 

“I work all day too, and then I have to deal with that?” Misha scoffs with his question. “I mean, sometimes coming home is just as bad.” 

 

Noel’s stomach dropped, so fast he swore it would fall out of him and to the floor. Where he’d fall after he died. Because he felt like all the blood in his veins were replaced with ice, and he’d never survive that. Or this.  

 

Home? Sure this house wasn’t special. But to Noel, he was home. 

 

He meant him.  

 

He must have from the very start. Noel willed himself to stay quiet and just hear more. To understand? To torture himself? Because the only other option was to fall to the floor like he swore he would, but the world wouldn’t do that and put him out of such misery, instead just letting him hear more of it with his very own ears. 

 

“I hardly have anything I like in this stupid town, so when I have a bad day and I wanna blow off some steam with some rap? I shouldn’t be stuck listening to show tunes from shit I don’t even like!” Misha explained further to the person on the other end of the line. “And don’t get me started on those stupid movies! Hard enough to hear them in a language I don't speak and read them in shitty subtitles of my third language, but the plots are even worse!”

 

Noel didn’t know what to say even if he had planned to speak. Even if he was capable of it. His throat was closing up more every second until he felt the life benign squeezed out of him. Yet still, it didn’t kill him. 

 

“I mean just got a break from him, it’s been so much lately, and even then he’s just in the shower, he could come back and annoy me again in as little as ten minutes,” Misha shook his head. “I can’t stand his positivity right now, he used to be just as depressed here as me, and I don’t know when he’s going to stop being stupid and get over the idea that love doesn’t conquer all, and life is still fucking shit most times!”

 

On his last enraged words, he finally turned. To see the face of that same stupid boy. Who was learning quickly it was indeed a stupid sentiment. Hearts wouldn’t break if that was true, and he was beyond broken, crying as silently as he could, and looking at his lover with the only pained thought of ‘why?’ .

 

Misha’s own heart shattered as his face fell from tight rigid lines to soft regret. He was just frustrated and angry at life, not the sweet boy who made it worth living. It was easy to take it out on him, he’d spent all evening with him, but that didn’t make it fair. Or even fully true.

 

“ Noel ….” He breathed out, tight grip on his phone loosening as he lowered it from his ear, watching the other as they broke before his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. “I thought you were in the shower….”

 

Those words didn’t help. They might not have even been meant to, but they were all he could take any longer, more tears falling as he rushed down the hallway again. Past the bathroom, not caring about the stupid shower he was meant to be in, and far more focused on escaping his eyes so he could sob with some dignity. Let his throat open up so it could voice its pain in any way it saw fit. 

 

Noel’s eyes were watery and he could hardly see but he knew he was in the kitchen when he exited the long hallway. All he needed to do was catch his breath and then….he didn’t know what then. 

 

“Noel!” Misha’s voice called out again, having followed him. 

 

Noel only cried harder and cursed under his breath. That boy wasn’t helping. He normally did but right now he was just sending off alarms. He was so confused, he didn’t know this person, and all he knew was the reason he was even crying in the first place was because of what he had said. 

 

Misha rounded the corner and tried to grab Noel’s arm, holding him up on the kitchen island countertop.“Noel, can we talk-” 

 

“No!” Noel yanked his arm away, breathing harsher than ever. “Don’t touch me!” 

 

He was in total shock, almost fight or flight as his whole body rattled. It didn’t know what to do or what it needed, but it felt everything. And it could do nothing to stop it any better than Misha could even if Noel wanted to let him try. His arms went back to supporting him yet they shook even more as he held himself up and tried to stabilize himself back to something at least fathomable in his mind. He’d never felt this despair, and he couldn’t sustain it. 

 

He couldn’t even breathe.

 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, so frustrated with everything and his own self he couldn’t even help but pair it with knocking a glass off the counter. It shattered but he didn’t even notice it, just wiping at his nose. “I can’t even- Fuck!”

 

He was so loud and so pained, and just like he had no clue what to do Misha didn’t either. He’d never seen him like this. He was being a douche he was sure of it, but he never expected to see this. He’d never want this.  

 

“Noel you can be mad at me, but you have to calm down.”

 

“I’m trying!” Noel exclaimed back. “I-I-I can’t!”

 

Nothing made sense to him, so how could figuring out things like this. As far as he saw it, his life as he knew it was a lie and was over now. All of it. So how do you breath, or calm down, or go on in the snap of a finger? Especially if it meant he was alone now too. 

 

Misha was cursing himself, feeling just as alone, but it was his fault after all. Every action had consequences, and he lost sight of them. He forgot anger wasn’t the only reaction to bad things. That pain could grow from it too. And it had. All over things he was just saying to say ! To feel less! He’d never have said them had he known, because most of it was just anger. He only saw anger. And now he saw anger- for himself- but he also saw and felt the pain. 

 

“Let me help you,” Misha begged him. 

 

Noel shook his head, walking away, almost stepping on the very glass he shattered like it was nothing. He had no care for that. He couldn’t feel his own body, too caught in his heartbeat and breathing and pounding of his head telling him everything is ruined. 

 

“I need to go….”

 

“What?!” Misha said, side stepping the glass himself as he tried to follow him over to the door. “You cannot go, not like this, not before we fix it.” 

 

“Fix it?” Noel looked at him, begging for Misha to make that feel real. When he couldn’t his eyes cast back to the wall where his keys hung. He felt so out of it as he shook his head, knowing one thing only: “No…..I can’t stay here. Not right now.” 

 

“Wh-when will you be back? Where are you going? Are you coming back at all?!” Misha sputtered, not understanding how quickly and horribly this all was going. 

 

Noel looked at him for a moment, shoes slipped on his feet as his chest continued to heave and he held the wall for a moment of balance “.....I don’t know.”

 

Noel turned from looking at Misha, to the door, and then walking right out of it. Neither had even realized it had started to rain. Pouring buckets from the sky. Noel would fit right in, his own face littered in droplets of tears. It reflected this so well, but only added to the pain of the situation, and of their very own life story.

 

One night, a few stupid phrases, and it gave him this? This?! He couldn’t accept that, he didn’t want to. Especially when it was his fault. He was hurting, he was leaving, he was crying because he was stupid and selfish- even careless with his doings. He shouldn’t get a say in what Noel did but he wanted him here, so at least he could say he didn’t lose him. That this wasn’t some end.  

 

The door closed and the rain played out loudly through it, hitting the door. Misha’s back slid against it, thinking of all the unknowns and the what-ifs they could be answered with. The rain reminded him of the sound of a shower, where Noel could be instead, safe and warm. Instead he was in the cold, far away from him, and tearing at his heart. 

 

He cried for that. He cried for them. He cried for his Noel . 

 

The one he never wanted to go in the first place, whether he had some small problems or not. Because they were his and they were only fueled by anger. He swore he’d never put that anger on Noel, but he’d heard anyway and it was just as bad. So what was the difference?

 

He was still alone and in pain. 

 

They both were. 

Notes:

It's super late, I wasn't sure if i was gonna a post this right after finishing the other, but I think it was worth it. I hope so. If you liked it and think so I'm glad! and ofc feel free to share the love <33 this is a new fic so it needs some lmao. Clean slate.

Also the recent love from my subscribers is insanely nice?? gained like 4 in a few days. So ty!!

What do we think?? :(

Misha def messed up, but he loves Noel, and he's not some huge bad guy. I promise I will never write Misha as some abusive asshole, that's against canon!!

Noel's real too. He's already insecure sometimes, and now from his one safety he hears that when he wasn't meant to?! his mind must be spinning!! Poor baby!

Where is he going? Thats a question for next time!!

LMK your thoughts!! i love them!! will eat them up!!

Also I'm going to see RTC today so yay!!! <33

See you guys next time!! Ilysm!! and ty for being here for this! :)

Chapter 2: No Sleep, Nothing In Between Me and the Rain...

Summary:

Noel makes his way through the rain to the only place he could think of... his mother's house.

Notes:

Wow, this is overdue!!

Sometimes getting back into something you haven't written in a while is hard, and not only was the first chap posted like a week ago, but I wrote that like months ago!! So yeah!!

But I did it, and I think it worked!! :)

3.8k words!! Woohoo!!

Also TW's// Panic, harmful thoughts (not detailed), and heavy emotional content

We all see the way I write Noel's mom...so the question is... what are the chances she's helpful here and not the bad guy??

But then again...Misha's kind of the bad guy right now...and that's not usual...so who knows...maybe it's opposite day?! :O

Chapter title from: Hurricane Drunk - Florence and the Machine. Classic.

Also as always, takes forever to find titles, I HAVE to start looking ahead, but we all know I spend a ton of time writing so, when do I have time?? lol.

Speaking of lack of time, omfg school work procrastination is so real.

Anyway, so nervous to share but hoping you guys like!!! So nervous about this one in general but ilysm and I love them and writing so!! here it is!! <33

Noel was soaked. Freezing. Numb. The latter, he knew, had started long before he found himself out in the rain, though.

 

He’d grabbed his keys, but only his house keys. His car was still in the stupid parking lot of their apartment complex. Driving wasn’t probably ideal, though. Between the tears and the rain, he could hardly see. On foot, it was one thing; in a car, it was another. Enough to get him killed. Even if he was too numb to even worry about mortality right now, it was still a fact. 

 

He’d meant to shower, but his showers were warm and safe. This thunderous shower brought no warmth or comfort, and he was anything but safe as lightning cracked down the roadways. 

 

There was only one place he could think to go. Someone who would be there for him and not think about Misha right now. He didn’t- he couldn’t have someone who loved him around right now. He loved him, and he was hurt. He needed someone who loved him, and only him, to help make it more bearable. 

 

Luckily, his mom wasn’t far away. He picked the general direction of his childhood home and booked it. The storm made the ground wet, making him almost slip in his haste. At one point, he stepped in a large puddle, but once again, he was numb to the feelings and wet enough from the downpour that it made no difference. 

 

He just wanted to be there. And for the first time since he was a child who still saw her as perfect, he just wanted his mom. Who else did he have to want? Even if he wanted Misha, he didn’t recognize or understand the Misha he’d just fled from. 

 

He knew his mom, though. And the deepest part of him told him that flawed or not, if he showed up on her doorstep sobbing, she’d take him in and fix it. Like a scraped knee or a paper cut. Moms were so good with those. He had grown up so quick, become distant and independent, but the idea of letting her take care of him for even the night. It felt good, and honestly, it felt like his last hope aside from collapsing in the middle of the road. 

 

When he saw the lights by the door. One turned on, and one off due to a broken wiring they could never prioritize fixing; he knew even through the gloom and doom night he was back home.

 

How his feet got him there so well, he had no idea. It was all a whirlwind. All the time was a blur, and everything he heard made his ears ring in a painful memory, and moving was like being underwater. He knew those feelings. But how he got there? That time? He had no clue.

 

His finger pressed against the door frame a few times before he found the doorbell. He wiped his eyes with his hand as he waited for her. Sure, it was unexpected, but he knew she was home. And suddenly, the sound of an unlocked door. 

 

She looked eyes with her son. Sad and confused eyes. Everything seemed so out of place to her, the backdrop violent and the son she raised in front of her… fragile enough to break from it all. 

 

But that couldn’t be all. 

 

And when Noel’s sob bubbled to a new high from the sight of her, and he actually choked out, “ Mom…” she knew it was more than the rain. It was more than she could comprehend. It was everything. 

 

When she still stood there, overwhelmed, never in this position, he gave her the push she needed to wake up her motherly senses again. He stepped into the house and threw his arms around her. 

 

He was wet and so much older than the last time she’d seen him like this. But if anything, she held him tighter cause of it. Knowing everything he did was out of desperation. She still didn’t know why, but she didn’t need to in order to be there.

 

And she would be there this time, regardless of the times she might not have been for various reasons.

 

“Oh… Noel…” she kept her hold on him as he sobbed into her shoulder. 

 

He shook from the cold, from the crying, from what felt like everything. 

 

Moms were supposed to fix these things. She was overwhelmed, sure she could never fix it, but sure she could do her part. She kept holding him- as if he’d let go right now- and moved them back so she could close the front door. 

 

The door cracked in tune with the sound of thunder, and if it weren’t for the fact he was a grown man, she’d swear it was just like when he was little and would find her in the night, woken up by the noises of a storm, crying. 

 

She wished it would be that easy. For him. Because storms pass. 

 

Every other problem Noel faced after that never passed. And not even knowing what this was, how could she tell him this would too?

 

“Noel, you gotta breathe,” She told him, rubbing his back and moving them this time to the couch. She got him to sit on the couch, and he fell backwards against the cushion like his own weight was too heavy a burden. “Noel, talk to me. What’s the matter, sweetie?” 

 

She was patient after asking, hearing him try but be unable to explain multiple times. With his back to the sofa and her on the coffee table in front of him, all she could do was place her hand on top of his and wait it out with him, assuring him she was there. 

 

Noel couldn’t say it, but he was so thankful for her at the moment. Like this meant so much, he could forgive every time her help meant little to nothing. 

 

“I-It’s Misha..” Noel said, emotion in his voice making his throat close by the last syllable and another round of cries followed it, like a chaser after a bitter, nasty taste. 

 

Only Misha’s name was never meant to leave any taste in his mouth that wasn’t as sweet as Noel swore he was….. So what happened?

 

“What happened with Misha?” she asked him. “Did he leave you here?” 

 

Noel shook his head adamantly. 

 

“I know you’re struggling, Noel, and I’ll give you all the time you need, but I can’t read your mind if you want me to help you….” she sighed. “How did you even get here, then?”

 

“Walked,” he said simply through his crying as he tried to quell it.

 

“Noel, it’s storming outside!” she tsk’d, an old motherly habit he didn’t need but came too naturally.

 

“I know but- I couldn’t-I couldn’t stay there!” He cried, free hand clutching his knee hard enough to leave crescents from his nails, even through his pants. 

 

Suddenly, Claudia’s face became more serious than gracious. “Noel…..did he hit you?” 

 

“No!” Noel cried, almost wishing for a pain that would be so quick compared to this. “But he- he still hurt me.” 

 

“How?” She asked, staying serious in her concerns.

 

Noel shook his head, looking at her for a second with watery eyes. “He doesn’t love me anymore….” 

 

The sobs that followed were also painful. To Noel’s system, and to Claudia’s ears. She wanted to help so much more than she could. But she hardly knew what happened, and it felt too impossible. 

 

Misha was everything to Noel, and while she tried to be important, she knew she didn’t compare. Knew nothing she could give him would be enough to make this go away. The person who always helped him best was the one who he said didn’t love him anymore. 

 

“Oh, Noel,” She sighed, leaning over to hold him as he lurched forward in his own seat from the effort of his cries. “He told you that?” 

 

“He didn’t have to….” he said from where his face fit in his hands. “He said everything else but.” 

 

“So he broke up with you?” She ran a hand through his hair- still wet. 

 

“No,” Noel sniffed. “I ran out the door.” 

 

Claudia didn’t want him to feel judged, but she had questions. Big questions. Ones that involved Noel’s doings just as Misha’s. 

 

“You walked out on him? The words sounded wrong to her, but she asked them. 

 

“I had too,” Noel cried. “I-I-” 

 

“Noel, I think me asking you a bunch of questions is pointless,” Claudia sighed. “We’ll wait until you can tell me about it.” 

 

“I don’t know when that’ll be…..” Noel sounded guilty. 

 

“Well,” Claudia stood up. “We have some time.” 

 

Noel looked up like a scared child. “Where are you going?” 

 

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” She said. “Give you a little space to try and breathe.” 

 

Noel nodded, seemingly okay with that, and even more okay with it when she wrapped him in a spare blanket she had. She pressed it to his shoulders and gave him a kiss on the head. 

 

He was cold, sad, and scared. But she’d make sure he’d be okay, even in the simplest terms. Her sofa….maybe not. But nothing in the house was that great anyway. It’d only fit in if it got ruined from the rainwater leaking into it.

 

She went into the kitchen and tried to remain calm. She always worried about him. Even when they had their bad moments, it always stemmed from her worry. She did it the wrong way sometimes, but she never did it for the wrong reason. 

 

‘Tone it down’ was a form of her protectiveness that she regretted. And she’d regret this if she couldn’t keep her cool. But she was worried. The way Noel made it sound was bad. She always felt like the only thing that ever protected him from the bad was the love he had for Misha and the love he got back. She wanted him to have that even. And she felt sick to imagine him without it. 

 

But did he need to be protected from him? Was she wrong? 

 

She hoped not. She really hoped this was something fixable. She loved Noel, but he could be a bit dramatic. She’d prefer it right now to seeing her son’s life fall apart. That’s what she imagined it’d look like if it did. 

 

She made the tea in two different mugs, honey in each, just like the old days. He was still wrapped in the blanket on the sofa, and she felt a pang in her chest for the old days when she could have this without the bad things attached. 

 

But they just…weren’t close enough, it seemed for that. At least right now. She’d hope to fix it, and she’d do whatever he needed right now regardless, but she wondered if he felt that awkward layer on the surface like she did, ignoring it or not.

 

“How you feeling, kid?” She asked as she returned, handing him the taupe mug. 

 

“Still horrible,” he muttered before a heavy sigh. “But calm enough to talk now, I think.” 

 

“There’s no rush,” She said, fingers around her mug. “Sip some tea, it’ll help warm you up.” 

 

Noel obliged and sipped the tea. It was good. Not as good and trusty as his coffee, but still good. And just what he needed right now, he knew, as it warmed his core and calmed him with the hints of lavender he tasted. 

 

“I didn’t mean to listen to him, Mom, I promise….”

 

“Honey, it’s okay.” She frowned. “Listen to what?” 

 

Noel swallowed. “He was on the phone with someone… I have no idea who, but that doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

 

His eyes looked so dead and exhausted already as she looked into them and willed them to continue. Her mind was going wild with ideas. Was he cheating? Lying about something else big? Gambling? Homesick? Hiring a hitman? Again, with Noel’s dramatics and her imagination- which she passed to him- it was endless possibilities. 

 

“It might…?” She shrugged, unsure. 

 

“No,” He shook his head. “Because it wasn’t about who he was talking to….it was what he was saying….” He looked away from her as if unable to face her now. “He was complaining about things…complaining about me…”

 

Her eyebrow jumped. “About you?” 

 

He nodded. 

 

“Noel, Misha loves you!” She started, only to get cut off, not by words, but a sad single tear falling from Noel’s shaky frame. She breathed out instead and let him speak next. 

 

“Not anymore….” his voice quivered. 

 

“And you two didn’t talk?” She gathered. 

 

“I told you….I couldn’t stay.” he pulled the blanket around tight like a hug. 

 

She breathed out again, hopeful this really could be fixed. But not by her. By them talking. But she wouldn’t force it. Certainly not now. The night was late, and the storm was calming but wasn’t meant to stop until dawn. 

 

“Well, you can stay here tonight,” She assured him with another sip. 

 

“You’re sure?” he asked her, eyes still shiny. 

 

It hurt her that he had to ask, but she understood. It wasn’t just her. It was the world that earned his distrust. 

 

“Yes,” she gave him a smile. “This is still your home too, whenever you need it.” 

 

“I don’t want my home to be a place….” his lips blanched from how heavily he pressed them together after the words left his mouth and became real. He wanted to sob again so badly. 

 

“You don’t have to hide it, Noel….I know you’re hurting,” She told him. 

 

“He said I was…I was….annoying him, Mom….” Noel’s tears did indeed let go. 

 

“Oh.” She reached around to hug him. “You’re not annoying, Noel.” 

 

Noel shrugged. Not sure if it was true or even mattered if Misha felt that way. He felt like he loved Misha with everything, and now he couldn’t even trust that Misha loved him one bit. He knew he took it harder than some people, but he had to! He had to protect himself. He had to believe the warnings before he got hurt. His whole life he did, and this was so much more. It could hurt him so much worse. 

 

Already hurt him the most….. 

 

“What do I do?” He asked his mother, his voice timid. 

 

“Right now?” She gave him a look. “You’re gonna take a warm shower and get some sleep.” 

 

His nose scrunched in confusion, then even further when her finger came out to wipe a tear from under his eye, grazing his lashline with her nail. 

 

“ Mom!” he protested a bit. 

 

It only made her smile, though. There was the Noel she knew. Still there. 

 

“Fine, I’ll stop, but I’m serious about you taking care of yourself.” 

 

“But what about after?” He demanded. “You say these things like it’s so easy!” 

 

“It’s not easy, sweetie; love never is.” She turned her smile into a sad, empathetic one. “But you can’t do anything tonight but try and get some rest.” 

 

“But….” 

 

“Tomorrow will be here soon enough.” She sighed, pulling him up with her as she stood. “And when it comes, you’ll go home and try to actually talk to Misha.” 

 

“What? I can’t-” 

 

“You can, Noel,” She stopped him, hands on either side of his shoulder width. “In fact, you have to. Mother’s orders!” 

 

“But-” 

 

“ Look at me,” She begged him. “No matter what happens, I’m here, but you can’t just not find out what happens because you’re afraid…isn’t that even worse ?”

 

Noel’s heart clenched in pain. “I’m scared of both , Mom.” 

 

“Honey, what else can you do, though?” 

 

“I just…. I don’t wanna deal with this… any of this…. ever….” he cried. “I wish I-I wish I-” 

 

“You wish what?” 

 

Noel didn’t wanna finish that sentence. He didn’t know what words he would use, but the idea wouldn’t be pretty. He was dramatically pessimistic, and his mental health was never strong. There was a real possibility he said something that scared her….or even him. 

 

He wanted it fixed, but he knew it’d be easier to be gone….

 

What he wanted most, oddly enough, was that he just never heard that phone call. Maybe Misha would have never brought it up. Continued with his…lies for whatever reason he kept them. And kept Noel feeling safe and loved. 

 

Right now, he didn’t feel safe, and the love he found was from someone else. So it wasn’t even right when he had some. Not what he had before. Not what he treasured. If he’d known it would disappear…or end up never being there…. 

 

He couldn’t right now. He was right when he said he couldn’t, and it included this. Whatever spiral this was. He couldn’t do it. And he wouldn’t. If he made it through the night without curling up into a ball of tears and dying, he didn’t know how he’d do it, but he knew he really couldn’t now. And his mom gave him permission not to. 

 

“Nothing…” Noel told her. “I just, I’ll go and take that shower I guess… it’s really cold.” 

 

“I know,” she sighed, rubbing her own hands as she took them off of him. “I’ll be up in a bit to check on you.” 

 

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.” He slumped his shoulders as he started to walk away. 

 

“You’re always gonna be my kid,” she said. “So I’ll see you when I come up there, okay?” 

 

Her playful, harsh attitude made him feel a bit more comfortable being home. Like his mom, the one who would use the same tone for things a lot more considerably rude than ‘checking on him’ before bed. 

 

Don’t get him wrong, he needed the comfort this brighter side of her offered, but he also needed his mom to make an appearance. And remind him his life didn’t start and end with Misha, or his love….even when it really felt like it. 

 

“Okay,” he told her, turning back as his hand hit the stairs' railing. “And…thanks, Mom.” 

 

“You’re welcome,” she smiled back, watching him walk up the steps in a dreary, exhausted manner.

 

The second she heard the shower though, she started something she knew she needed to do. Preferably without Noel’s knowledge. 

 

She went over to his jacket. It was soaked where he had left it on the couch next to him, but as she had hoped, in the one pocket was his cell phone. She grabbed it, wiping off any raindrops from it, and then opened it up. 

 

Noel liked to think he had a secret passcode, but it was the same password on everything he’s had since he was little, so she knew it. And she’d used it a lot over the years. 

 

She got it unlocked and could see that all the missed calls on the phone were from Misha. Her heart softened for a second and then hardened again. She was hopeful this meant he did love her son, and Noel was wrong. She was fairly sure it was, at the very least, a little less than he thought it was. And this was some proof. 

 

But he hurt her son regardless. And she just… wouldn’t open that heart back up so easily until it was no longer her thoughts, Noel’s words, or Misha’s actions talking. But something concrete the boys come to the conclusion of together. If after that she had to hate him, she would gladly, but she had to be the neutral party if there was any opening in the door for them. 

 

She saw a huge opening in the calls and voicemails from the Ukrainian boy. So she’d stick her foot in it to keep it wedged. Hard. Until Noel could take it back over. 

 

Tonight, she was doing the work for him. She called Misha, a blank face as she heard it pick up almost instantly. 

 

“Боже мій, коханий, ти тут!” she heard his voice crackle and break with tears reminiscent of Noel’s own when he showed up. “I thought something happened to you, I’m still worried about you…fuck, Noel, I love you so much, you gotta come back, I’m so sorry, just-”

 

“Misha, it’s me,” she said, sure he knew who he was from just her voice at this point. 

 

“Mrs. Gruber….?” 

 

“Yes,” she sighed. 

 

“Is Noel with you? Is he okay?” Misha asked, mentally begging for something good before he went insane not knowing. 

 

“He’s here,” she told him, arms crossed. “And if you mean physically, just freezing cold…” 

 

“Oh my god, did he just get there?! Was he walking around this whole time?” Misha began to freak out. “I’ll come get him-” 

 

“ No.” She stopped him, loud and clear. “He’s been here, and I’ve been taking care of him. He’s going to stay here until he gets some sleep and stops crying over whatever it is you did!” 

 

“Mrs. Gruber, I don’t know what he told you but-” 

 

“But you didn’t say that?” She huffed back, a bitter taste for Misha right now, just like her son. “Don’t lie to me.” 

 

“I was going to say… I take full responsibility for it,” Misha sniffed. “I know I hurt him.” 

 

“Then why did you?!” She found herself screaming into the phone. 

 

She quickly stopped herself, looking up at the steps and happy to hear the water still running, and then back to the phone with more of her senses calmed. 

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t scream….” 

 

“It’s okay, I deserve it,” Misha mumbled back, another sniff after. 

 

“Look, Misha, I don’t think you’re some monster, but you hurt my son, okay?” she explained. “And right now, he thinks you don’t love him!” 

 

“I do love him, though!” 

 

Claudia didn’t even want to try and understand someone else's relationship, especially with her emotional connection to it. So she bit her tongue from saying good or bad things and worked on why she called. 

 

“Tell him that….” 

 

Misha scoffed, but not the rude kind, the kind that felt hopeless. “How?” 

 

“I’m gonna make sure he comes home to you tomorrow morning,” She admitted, telling the truth. “But what he decides to do after that…. That’s up to him.” 

 

Misha sighed, inadvertently telling her he was just as scared as Noel. 

 

“I didn’t want you to worry if Noel was safe or not, so I called, but I have to go now,” Claudia explained. “My son needs me.” 

 

“He doesn’t know you called me, does he?” 

 

She hesitated. “....no.” 

 

Misha didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but it felt like something that wouldn’t have even been a factor if he hadn’t fucked up so bad. 

 

He wiped his own eye, even as he tried to brave the call. “So tomorrow morning?” 

 

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

 

“I won’t,” he told her. “Besides, you can’t regret anything more than me….”

Notes:

Wow, bottom Ans are sometimes so easy and sometime so hard. Today it's hard lol. Also sleep and anxiety is so weird rn, lmao.

Anyway, what do we think so far?? More than a short first chapter, we got chap two now, the vibes still vibing okay??

S/o to Claudia Gruber for being an icon in this one. Not perfect, but stepping up when it counts!! We love to see it.

I wanna hug Noel sooo bad. He's hurting sooo much.

Misha's hurting too, but i didn't show too much of/into him. I promise though, he's not heartless, if you see him cry? It's real.

The boys...gotta make up, right?? And when they do it'll all be perfectly fixed, right?!?! ..... sure :D /lh

Anyway, next chapter you do get to see them back together, to try and work things out. I don't think they're too broken....yet. But we all know Noel's anxieties.....so wish him luck.,

See you soon besties <33 ALL MY LOVE FORREALS! and ty for the support so far!!

Chapter 3: Won’t End It 'Cause It Feels Like Home.....

Summary:

Noel comes home, and they talk. But how much does Noel actually HEAR when his mind's made up and damaged long ago?

Notes:

How is this only chaper 3....i'm slacking so bad and I'm soooo sorry guys :(((

I think while I love this fic, sometimes I'm intimidated I'm not getting the feelings right? Or again, maybe it is just so new?? Idk!!

But it's coming along, and ik it'll get better if I can stop sucking lmaoo. New stuff always has a curve to it, just to feel normal. And feeling normals hard with my new meds making me sorta out of it (I think)

No TW just sad depressed boys :(

Word count is 2.9k that's cool I think.

Been writing this off and on tonight between some things, some of which was school work that made NO SENSE. :P hate that.

Title from Burn by Banks, picked ahead so I'm not fumbling, and I think pretty perfect?? <33 love Banks

To the chapter sillies, prepare for not so sillies

By sunrise, it was no longer storming outside. You could see proof of it everywhere, though. Things were blown into the front yard, branches knocked down, and puddles overflowing the potholes on the low-traffic street they lived on, on the second floor of a run-down apartment complex that had somehow withered storms since the 20th century when it was built. 

 

Misha looked out on it solemnly. It looked like a mess. But it could get cleaned up, right? He wanted to blink and see it all behind him, though, the sun high and the bird singing like there was never a problem. If only to believe he and Noel could be the same. 

 

They could be. No. They would be. Words couldn’t break them. Not when he was just having a bad day. Sure, he was being a dick, but he’d admit it. As long as Noel could see that that was all it ever was! 

 

He thought back on what he said for the millionth time and continued to hang on every last word. To explain it to himself and hopefully know how to explain it to Noel. Words were words, and actions were actions. Words meant things, but did they mean the exact thing he said, or was there more to it? Of course, there was. 

 

He and Noel were different. That wasn’t new. But he knew the way he said things made them go from different to almost adversarial. 

 

Noel didn’t consider himself to be someone in a good mood, but perhaps next to Misha, lately he was. He was just glad to be on his own. Felt like life could finally start, even with the struggles it brought, once he was finally done with college. Living was all he ever wanted, good or bad. Maybe the fact that Misha saw the bad for what it was is what pushed him into somehow being even more nihilistic than the proclaimed nihilist.

 

Then, there were the comments that felt more personal. But not because they were Noel! Because they were things he liked. So much so… maybe in his rage he didn’t see that they were a part of him. 

 

No, Misha wasn’t a big fan of Noel’s movies or music or whatever, but to him, he never felt he had to. He loved Noel, and if that’s what Noel loved, he was always happy to indulge in it with him, just to see how much he loved it. 

 

It’s just… on days where you’re unhappy, sometimes other people’s happiness, even those you love the most, can be hard to swallow.

 

He wanted Noel to be happy. That was never a question. And he was happy Noel was happy. But he couldn’t live off that. He needed things that made him happy, too. 

 

If he didn’t have those things, it wasn’t Noel’s fault. And the idea of making a boy who finally had some happiness feel wrong for it made him sick. So what if he thought life was still shit? Wouldn’t he do anything to change that? Or to keep Noel from that pain? He knew Noel wasn’t supposed to hear him, but he caused this, and looking back, it isn’t what he wanted at all. Didn’t help him at all. Just hurt them both. What did that do? 

 

He was jealous but not cruel. Or at least, he hadn’t meant to be. Because, yeah… what he said was cruel. 

 

Even at his lowest points, he loved Noel and was happy to have him. It was the other stuff he hated. And now, Noel was only going to see that he hated him the same. When he didn’t. When lines just sometimes crossed before he knew it. And he was saying things without a filter. Without a care. Without targeting the real issue because of how much bigger it felt than a few movies and all. 

 

If he lost Noel, he lost everything. Yeah, he’d lose those small, stupid things he complained about, but those didn’t matter. Not compared to Noel. He already dealt with those things, and yeah, on a bad day, they weren’t the best, but they weren’t the worst! The worst would be never having them because Noel never came into his life. Or left it… 

 

He didn’t leave. Not yet… Claudia said he’d be back in the morning. 

 

But what’s the morning? Misha hadn’t slept, just in case that definition was mixed up. Was it when the sun rose? When the clock ticked a specific time? To him, it was usually when he woke up next to Noel.

 

When he heard the front door jingle, he almost threw up. He hadn’t even seen Noels enter the lot. Only realized then that he probably never even took it. But he was here. He waited so long, but it wasn’t easy. Didn’t make it less cary either. 

 

He rushed away from the window at the edge of their small living room and rushed closer to the door. Holding himself back from just wanting to jump on the boy and give him kisses and never let go. 

 

He bit his lip to try and hold back, but when Noel’s tired, sad eyes met his for the first time, and things didn’t just magically feel okay again, he broke a bit. He heard a sob before he even realized it was his. Noel was home now, and for good and bad reasons, all he could do was sob. 

 

Noel’s voice spoke, reserved. “Misha-” 

 

“I know.” Misha holds himself back, seeing how cautious Noel is already. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…” 

 

Part of him was scared he’d never come back through that door because of him. 

 

Noel nodded. Very firm. His lips were in a white line, his eyes lacked sparkle, and he curled in on himself as he shut the door behind him. It was so clear he was exhausted in every way possible. Maybe even too exhausted to have the conversation they needed. But they needed it. 

 

Misha felt so stuck in his place, just waiting. But for what? He had no idea what the rules were right now. Just pain. He’d follow whatever Noel wanted, but what he wanted was. 

 

Noel’s loud sigh cut through, looking at Misha and knowing him well enough. “Whatever you’re doing….just…don’t.” 

 

“I’m not trying to-” 

 

“I meant whatever you’re trying not to do,” he explained. “I’m not gonna break if you-” 

 

Misha rushed forward, aware he had his permission. Permission that could be taken away, like his Noel, and needing to hold him even more than before. 

 

He should have been loving him like he was gonna lose him, now he had to hold him like he’d have to let go too soon. Knowing that was a lot more real than ever before. 

 

His head fell onto his shoulder, and he continued to sob there. If body language could apologize, this would be it. Every part of his being was guilty. He shook from how much he knew that, too. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Misha cried. “I don’t know what else to say, or how to say it, but I’m sorry.” 

 

The way Noel just stood there, not holding him back, not saying a word. Like a stone…..he felt that. He deserved it. But it hurt like a bitch. And it stayed that way as Misha cried his heart out for a bit, too. 

 

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Misha asked as he pulled back, still keeping an arm on Noel just for comfort. “Even yell at me?” 

 

“No.” 

 

The way Noel made it sound so simple, Misha feared the worst. 

 

“I don’t…I don’t know what that means,” Misha cried to him. “If you don’t talk…how do we fix this?” 

 

A flash of something appeared behind Noel’s eyes at the word fix, but he didn’t think it was good. He was so scared. Like a small child begging for him to just stay with him. Like it’d kill him if not. Maybe it would…

 

“My mom wanted me to come home to see if we could, ya know, fix it ,” Noel explained as he threw his jacket on the counter. “And….I just… isn’t that up to you? You’re the one who said things. What is there for me to say here? It’s okay that you hate me?” 

 

“No!” Misha pleaded. “I don’t hate you, and nothing's okay, and I just-” Misha swallowed back more of that sick feeling as he felt it all going wrong. “Can we just…sit?” 

 

Noel nodded, seemingly only for the promise it’d go somewhere. Misha couldn’t fault him for that.

 

“Please just…explain this,” Noel spoke as he moved to sit with him on their couch. 

 

Misha noticed the way he looked up. Something he did to hold back tears. He knew this boy so well. He adored him. Yet, he didn't know how to prove that. 

 

A lot of it would have to just be trust. 

 

Noel wasn’t sure he even had that trust anymore. Hidden phone calls. Horrible thoughts never said to his face. All the insecurities he already carried under the surface floated to the top. All gone in a moment. A moment Misha never even wanted to happen but was still to blame for. 

 

“I….I can’t explain it because it doesn’t even make sense to me, Noel!” Misha begged, leaning over, still trying to hold onto some piece of him. “I, I’ve been having some really bad days.” 

 

“Becuase of me?” 

 

“No!” Misha felt like he was dodging bullets every turn. Ones he set up, no matter who was saying them now. “I just took it out on you, and that was wrong.” 

 

“I wasn’t even there….” Noel seemed to almost blank out, looking past Misha, voice pained and lowered even further. “....I love you.” 

 

“I love you too,” Misha told him. “Tell me you still know that!” 

 

Misha’s eyes fought to meet his, and they looked at each other. Nothing made sense in this ‘in-between’ for either of them. But for Noel, no way felt right. 

 

Leaving? He couldn’t leave Misha. He was all he knew that was good. This was his home, his life, his love. If Misha wasn’t brave enough to let him go, he’d always be here. He knew that much from the start. 

 

But staying also felt tainted. Like he was coming back to something that was different now. It couldn’t be the same. It would leave him with the knowledge he was there, but not living it, maybe. 

 

All he ever wanted to do was live. And in both directions felt suffocating. All he wanted was the Misha he thought he knew. Now he couldn’t trust this was him. No matter how bad he wanted to just collapse in his arms. His mind would never let it go again….

 

Fear was hell. But hell was home. And the idea of something worse was too much to fathom. 

 

“I know that,” Noel said, almost like a robot, just to get past this part, where it was all too close to home for him. 

 

Misha sighed in relief, taking the hand he was holding and pulling it up to his mouth to lay a kiss on it. Then the same with the other. Then on his lips. 

 

“Sorry….” Misha wasn’t sure if he had overstepped; Noel’s face was still unreadable and almost dead. 

 

“It’s okay,” Noel deadpanned. 

 

“Then why doesn’t it feel okay?” he frowned. 

 

“I just….I’m tired, and it still hurts.” Noel shrugged. “I’ll get over it.” 

 

He felt deep inside of him he wouldn’t…and now that he was lying to Misha, for the first time ever on something so big, he saw proof of just how different and doomed it all was. 

 

He’d live with doom if he could live by Misha’s side. But he might just get his wish. Noel might be that depressed person again. Asked to be or not. The damage that was done, still pooling in his core and eating at his brain every moment. 

 

Right now, he wanted to sleep and cry. Pretend it’ll be okay. And wake up to suppress it all over again, in the hopes one day, that’d be enough and he’d forget that there was no way Misha was anything but bothered by him. 

 

Misha felt sad by Noel’s words but tried to trust them. He knew Noel was hurt. If this took time, he could give him that. As long as he was okay, Misha would wait a lifetime. 

 

He might have to…..

 

Misha moved forward again, this time for a hug. Something long and longing. Something that was meant to heal but hurt. 

 

Would hugs ever feel good again for Noel? Would they get better slowly but never be enough? Would they have to just be crumbs of the fact that Misha was here,, not that he loved him? He hugged him back and tried not to break over the realization. 

 

“I wanna sleep,” Noel said, sniffing, waiting for him to pull away. 

 

“I didn’t sleep at all,” Misha told him. “And I called out of work today, so maybe we can sleep together like we always do…like we should have last night.” 

 

Noel couldn’t explain how every word filled him with grief, anger, and sadness for everything in the world, but how he wanted to put none of it on his boyfriend. If only Misha thought to do the same..

 

Noel loved him, but loving him wasn’t freeing anymore as much as it was painful. A trap. Something that teetered over a ledge, threatening to take him with it in all its instability. 

 

Maybe he was just unstable now. Maybe he was looking ahead too far and too quickly. But it was like every chemical in his body changed. Keeping Misha out of a want to survive with the boy he loved, then hopes to be loved back as easily. It hurt, but it hurt worse to face the consequences of how Misha saw him. 

 

Could he ever convince him he was better? Would he ever believe it? Did it matter? 

 

He loved Misha. And he’d stay. Even if it killed him. He loved him too much. Even hate couldn’t break that. The only hate he now felt was for himself. And if that ruined them, he had no idea how to fix it. He was just agreeing with Misha after all, wasn’t he? Or the version of Misha his brain gave him now. 

 

“I, just….I think I need to be alone a little longer.” Noel confessed with some guilt. 

 

He was awful. Even if Misha would want it, he was awful. But he had to. 

 

“Oh…okay,” Misha stood up. “I can nap on the couch or-” 

 

“I’ll take the couch,” Noel objected, already scooting into position and grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch. 

 

“But you didn’t do anything wrong….” 

 

“It’s not a punishment, Misha,” Noel explained. “It’s just something I need.” 

 

“But wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable?” He asked him, wanting the boy to feel better in any way he could. 

 

Noel looked at their bedroom door and remained firm. That’s where they slept together when things were good. Made love, shared kisses, and woke up with ideas of love. 

 

Being in that bed alone was not something he wanted to ever experience. Part of the reasons he stayed. He needed Misha, and he needed some time to stomach what that meant now. 

 

“I wanna stay here.” 

 

Misha wasn’t going to argue with him at that point. Noel’s eyes were already closing, so he moved to turn the light out in the room. The only light was from the windows now, but Noel would sleep fine with it. 

 

He couldn’t leave just like that though, even with clear steps before things were perfect. “I love you,” he said, voice slightly cracked. 

 

Noel didn’t respond, and he almost thought he was asleep until he got into their room and laid down. The sound outside the cracked door was clear as day. Noel was sobbing, crying his heart out like he never heard. Because of him still. 

 

Noel had said it wasn’t a punishment, but it felt like it was always gonna be one, purposely or not, because this killed him just as bad as it sounded Noel was or even worse. He bit his mouth as he stifled his own cries, not something Noel needed to hear right now. But all too real over it. 

 

Pain was all around until they could cry themselves to sleep. How could makeup feel so broken still? There was so much left to fix. A talk was never going to do it. But what would? 

 

Noel heard him say I love you. Noel cried because of it. Because, how could it be true with everything he knew now? There was no trust. Just knowledge.That for some reason, Misha needed him just as badly, flawed or not. And he’d keep him here and let Noel love him, as he only found more and more things to despise. 

Hell, Noel was already dreaming of a whole list of them…and letting them sink in until they were just as true as Misha hating him. The kind of truth that didn’t matter whether it was real or not. Because it was real to him. Hopelessly real, whether he asked for it or not, fueled by parts of him that hadn’t come out in years. Along with the pain and in spite of the very real love he still had. For Misha. Not himself. Because how do you love something so clearly unlovable? How could you miss that in yourself? How do you get mad at someone else for seeing that anyway? Misha was right. He loved Misha. If Misha didn’t love him, that just made sense. He didn’t love himself anymore anyway. It only made sense not to. Knew he never could again.

Notes:

:((((( they sad

They're soulmates, and Misha deserved to be forgiven, but he also deserved to be believed. Noel simply CANT though. He's too hurt. His brain has seen so many people hate him, all he sees is that the trust Is broken and this is the only thing that makes sense. Wants to make himself make sense regardless of if misha loves him or not. If only he knew misha did!!

At least no breakups like I said :D lmao as if that makes this happier

They're in pain, but more pains to come!

These three chaps were part of my original 3 oneshot series I wanted that I evolved into this! This was rotting heavy in me. The imagine of noel sobbing on a couch as Misha lays alone in their bed knowing he can't do any more to help like.... that was my drug for a bit lmao

Hope YOU enjoyed the pain too! We can be drug buddies lmaooo.

I love you guys sooo much, and idk what else to say, so I'll hit post and see you soon!! <3

Chapter 4: It’s Not What I Want, It’s Just All I Know.......

Summary:

Noel wakes up, and nothing is better, so he has to find a way to try and make it at least livable.

Notes:

Hello, wow, am I awful or what.

Im gonna stop promising things cuz that's when it gets bad lmao. I said i'd try to post this sooner than last time... RIP. Didn't happen lmao. But I am here! and I just was having a mental health state where I needed to skip this chapter for a day.

TW// Anxiety meds, depression, panic, and SH

(AN includes some of these trigger warnings too in this paragraph) Basically, since I always have to overexplain or else I feel like I'm lying or you'll be upset (it's my OCD lets be real) I had a day where my mental health was bad, and I got panicy, and when I have panic attacks, especially with certain things/lately, I get very much "Im gonna die" and while it's never happened before, I had to like, stop myself from smashing my head into a metal hook in my bathroom. I never had THAT urge before, but it was scary, and way too high of an urge for my liking either. I tried to hold it so I wouldn't and I half-ripped it off the wall :/

IM OKAY THOUGH GUYS!! and before you ask if I'm safe to write this, yes!! If I need a day off or something from mental health though, just be kind! It's not a trigger in the same ways unless I'm actively not feeling safe! I promise <33

You guys gotta promise with this new trigger warning YOU'LL BE SAFE!! If you have to skip stuff, or full chapters, or just stop compeltley- do it!! No hate here!

But also, I know this can be therapeutic for some people, and some people also just eat up the yummy pain, and might only trigger a binge reading fest lmaoo <33 I know my audience /lh /j

Today was Easter, so happy easter IF you celebrate. If not, happy being you day :) You're cool I promise.

Title from Means I Care by Tate Mcrae <33

Any and all love is sooo appreciated!! This one is 2.4k so I feel like maybeeee we can hit 24 kudos on this to match? Just 4 more, but also, no pressure, I'm not holding you guys hostage to it!

I love you!!! Enjoy this chapter and all it's angst!

Noel woke up, his body nearly as exhausted as it was when he first fell asleep. He could tell he’d been crying from the way his abs ached alone. It was the full body type, with his tear-stained face resting on a stray couch pillow's edge. He opened his eyes with a realization of what had happened, but no actual relief. 

 

Was this just how it’s going to be now? Itching at him from under his skin, under it killed him that it wasn’t okay to him? Even when to some people it’d be easy, and would be. Why was he never easy? Why was love never easy? Maybe love really was a tragedy. Maybe he just didn’t expect it to hurt when he was finally expecting it not to hurt. 

 

He had no idea where Misha was, and for a second, he didn’t know if it was good or bad. It was bad, right? He was meant to figure that out, no matter how much his bones still weighed him down on the couch. His final resting bed, if he may be so lucky, is never to touch the head of the pillow beside his love again to spare himself the pain. Of course, though…. he wouldn’t. 

 

Painful bed, and painful bones that creaked as they reluctantly got off the couch to find the boy that, for all he knew, was avoiding him now on purpose. 

 

He could see from where he was when he got up that their bed was empty, the sheets discarded and never put back in place. Misha had slept there. He could see that, even stepping into the doorframe to double check he wasn’t on the opposite side, rolled over, already bulldozing his body’s frame in the mattress like a memory of the past. But no. 

 

He did, however, hear the sound of water in the bathroom. The sink. It was quiet beyond that, so it caught his attention as he quietly stepped over to the door of their en suite. His hand went to go for the door knob and before he could clutch the golden orb, the door was opened up into the bathroom to the site of Misha. 

 

Noel couldn’t help but gasp, so fragile right now, even a stray wind could have scared him, he felt. He grabbed his chest, feeling the weight of his overworked body even more as his breath tried to even out. 

 

“Oh my goodness, Noel!” Misha sounded apologetic as he threw the hand towel he had in his hands behind him. “Are you okay?” 

 

When Misha reached out for him, his instinct was to pull away. But that wasn’t right either. He could pull it off as fear right now, but he’d need to work on that. Misha wouldn’t want a broken toy. If he wasn’t a toy, what was he? 

 

The annoying boy who was driving him crazy, to be exact. 

 

“Noel….” Misha breathed out, waiting for a reply, or an explanation if he’d grace him with it. 

 

“Sorry, just- just startled me,” Noel swallowed, lowering the hand on his chest to his side where it was ‘meant’ to be. “I heard the water still running in the sink….” 

 

“Yeah, was filling cup with water, was going to come grab the pills and let cup fill in the meantime.” 

 

Noel didn’t understand, but instead of just confusion, there was suspicion and self-hatred. Ironically, it grew even more self-hatred a he registered that. 

 

“What pills?” His brow furrowed, not aware Misha needed anything. 

 

Misha walked over to the dresser to grab the small orange vial of pills from the pharmacy. “Your anxiety meds,” He explained. “You didn't have any last night, and I… I figured you wouldn’t want to miss dose for this morning.” 

 

Misha looked so unsure, but part of it might just be nerves from bringing up so many things at once that could be seen as bad. 

 

Noel wasn’t sure it had to be bad. On one hand, it could be the loving boyfriend wanting to take care of him. But the other side of the coin. The one glaring at him ever since last night told him to see if it was different. If it was Misha wanting to keep him on meds so he’s not anxious and less ‘maintenance’. 

 

Noel felt sick. He didn’t think there was anything on Earth to take the possibility of that off the table after everything. He felt like he was living through miserable motions in the hopes of finding something familiar and good again. It was less than 24 hours. But instead of thinking forward to that dream, he found himself thinking of now, and what it’d be like to be in this moment forever. Even with the love he had for him, it was without love for anything else, and hate for so much more. 

 

He felt even sicker as he forced himself to take the pills. What else was he to do? He loved Misha. He took meds. He worked. He slept. He ate. He just did these things. It didn’t make them easy, though. Not now. 

 

“You just get up then,” Misha said, looking for something to say that didn’t cross boundaries, but felt stupid as he said it. 

 

“Yeah,” Noel said, handing him back the cup. “I don’t know what time it is…” 

 

“12:30,” Misha answered him simply, looking into his eyes, looking tired, but mostly lost. “You probably needed the sleep.”

 

Noel hummed in agreement, just standing there, unsure where to look himself, or even what to do. Misha wasn’t sure either. But he knew what he wanted to do. Not having to check with his brain what was right, what was allowed, or what was real or not. 

 

He took the risk, putting the cup down on their dresser and moving forward slowly, only half a step, to reach around Noel. They had hugged before, but this felt more like just holding each other as he hoped not to spook the darker-haired boy. 

 

Noel let him, still lost as he just moved his dissociative staring enough to not go cross-eyed as he was right in front of the other boy’s shoulder with his eyes. Noel still didn’t move much in the hold, but wasn’t as stiff. Had no energy for it. Had no purpose other than to just stand there as he cursed Misha for being in a position where something like that was thoughtless, easy, and maybe even enjoyed…

 

Misha moved a bit to kiss him on the top of the head, still slow and careful, but with all the love he could muster. Sleeping was hard. Being in front of him and being unsure if he could even kiss him was just as hard. But Noel let him, and when a small bit of Noel’s hair stuck to his lips as he pulled away for a moment, he didn’t speed up to shake it off, just be thankful for any literal crumbs he could get. 

 

Meanwhile, Noel would feel the same. If there was a crumb in sight. He feared it would take more than a crumb to overcome the poison in his veins now. And he was mostly sure no such thing existed. 

 

He felt sick again. 

 

Noel spoke through a sigh. “I think I wanna take a shower…..”

 

Misah would rather his own nose dive back into his hair, bedhead and all, then leave the warmth of him. Not just the skin, but the warmth in his heart, from feeling him in front of him, all of it. It still felt so fragile, and he still felt so bad, and whether it truly helped or not, he wanted to stay close to him. 

 

But of course, it’s never been his place to stop him, and certainly wasn’t now. 

 

“Okay,” Misha told him, taking one last whiff of the boy, like stopping to smell the roses before walking past them. “Do you want me to make lunch?” 

 

Noel didn’t know what to say or do, but he just nodded. It seemed simple that way. 

 

“I’ll make you your favorite.” Misha moved his hands slowly away from him. “That way if shower does not make you warm, tomato soup and grilled cheese will.” 

 

“Thanks, Mish,” Noel said, looking down as he fully separated from him. 

 

Food and feeling sick and Misha and sweetness and warmth…so many things were so close- too close- and others were unattainable. And the way his brain swirled he couldn’t seem to grasp which was which, just that he was floating away without having them to ground him with.

 

“Нема за що,” Misha told him as he left for the kitchen. 

 

Noel walked forward once he was alone to the bathroom. The door closing behind him was a bit suffocating, but once he realized it meant he was alone, he felt like time could be stopped. Or pretend to. And that was worth a lot. 

 

He wanted to sleep again. Forever maybe. But he had to be awake, and a shower would feel good, he thought. 

 

But then, when he got undressed and stepped into the shower, it was like the bed all over again. On the shelf? Misha’s shampoo. In his view, from the small crack in the glass door, he could see the towel Misha had put away, half hanging over the hamper, from his own shower and probably smelling like him. The way his hand felt when he pressed it to the wall to steady himself, jolting back to an intimate memory he just couldn’t face. 

 

He jumped out of the shower like it was hot after that. He was terrified. He knew Misha was his whole world, but not his whole world. This was torture. He was surrounded by the glare of how he failed the one boy he loved by being himself somehow. That something went wrong, and he was wrong, and it was his fault. Misha was good, Noel was bad, and he saw that now. 

 

As he held himself up at the sink, still dripping wet from skipping the towel and the shower still running, he sobbed. If Misha hated him for being ‘too optimistic’ about things, what was he now? Was this what he wanted?! If it was, why was it not enough to stop the damn feeling in his gut telling him it was still all his fault, and there was nothing he could do. 

 

Making it right? No. Making it livable. He didn’t care if it could be seen as an overreaction. He knew himself well enough to know this wouldn’t just disappear one day. This was here, and it was here to stay in the most impossible, mind-bending way, leaving him desperate. 

 

He was thankful his sobs were covered by the water, but he still felt so stuck. His reflection was fogged, but he was thankful for it. He couldn’t look at himself right now. Now, once he saw it. 

 

It. 

 

His razor. 

 

Something he could do. 

 

He had no idea if it would actually help make things better, but he couldn’t resist the pull towards it. He thought back to high school and all the times he came so close to the bad he faced, but this was a different level. 

 

That Noe,l who fought so hard not to, would understand why Noel was fighting hard to pull the protector off before he was stopped. Getting stopped would make it worse. Getting it done….well, he didn’t know yet. But if that voice in his head screamed any louder, he’d lose his mind, so he had to seek it out against his judgment. 

 

What did his judgment know anyway?

 

At first, he bit his lip as he did it. Scared. Until he realized he didn’t need to bite it. The pain was already there. And there was nothing to fear from it when he had so much control over it. The first thing he felt he could control that mattered. 

 

He wasn’t grounded, but he felt an adrenaline from it that left him exhilarated on top of the underlying terrors. Razors couldn’t hurt him unless he let them. And while it stung, it was nothing compared to the way the pain of hearing Misha talk badly about him. 

 

He was supposed to love him. But if he couldn’t, what was Noel bothering to try and be perfect for? His attempt at perfection was the wrong kind. Everything about him was wrong. But this, without Misha’s knowledge, was right. And his. And it was just.. oxygen . In a way he couldn’t explain. 

 

Noel was sure he was damaged goods, and now he was just labeled to match if anyone got close enough to his thighs to see the light lines he trailed there. The start of an era, at the start of a downfall, and in the middle of the life he was so sure would never end up this way… 

 

He washed the razor off and put it back where it belonged. Then he turned the shower off and grabbed his towel. The towels were black, so any of the blood he had would go unseen against it’s dark hue, and it was helpful. He took a breath as he felt the sting’s height again as he put pressure on the wound with it to try and make it stop bleeding. The way it mixed with the water it was trailing down his leg like a tear. 

 

Poetic. Tragic. Maybe this was the life he was sure would happen. Just at the wrong time, after learning how great it could be with something less cinematic, but so much more enjoyable. A faint taunting word to the memories that were too tainted to even look back on without internal panic and unsustainable uncertainty. 

 

This was a look into sustainable…he hoped. Even if it was something he knew was bad. Because what was bad and what was good? He had to ask himself so much, he started to think it might not matter. It might just be. If he bled, he bled. If he did it to himself, he did it. And it was just a fact. Not some moral dilemma. Certainly not one he had the energy to care about. 

 

He’d care about himself the moment he felt like that would do him any good. Or Misha did. Whichever came first. Or, whichever killed him first. Because in reality? This wasn’t sustainable at all.

Notes:

Well....if you saw it coming, you were right. If not, you either said "Oh no" or "Yes!" (again, y'all yummy agnst readers, I see you)

Noel is not doing well :/ obvi. I think like canonically he has anxiety and at minimum depression pre-cyclone so like.....i don't think this is a stretch if you add in the fact this boy would have been hated so long he'd have trust issues with this vibe. Maybe even trauma from people in school with it. Bullies are mean :(

Misha's not a bully, he was just....human. And he's trying. But I fear it's just not enough...at least now. And without him knowing? Even less helpful. But not 'really' his fault. He'd die for Noel. And even if not on purpose, Noel's willing to slowly die (even if just inside) to stay beside his love. Him loving him so much should be sweet but oof. Babes. Big hugs for them both. We need a joint therapy session. He needs to believe how loved he issssss.

Also for Noel's meds don't ask me what he's on lmaooo, I've been on so many meds it's not like I have a favorite. Take your pick.

I worry if I get vibes wrong. In writing style (which feels v diff than my other fics, but idk if its in a bad way or not?) and also like, with this specific topic. I get anxiety, trust issues, panic, depression, etc. BUT not ever in this EXACT context. Nobody on earth can replicate it, which is a beauty of storytelling, but also means, if it feels off I'm sorry. Also the only times I've (TW) SH'd it's not in the way Noel does so while I get the vibeeesss I'm not like, basing it on ME when it comes to how.

Always down for feedback, even appreciate it if it helps with any of MY anxiety lmao, so lmk anything just be nice :)

I'm running on no sleep (I got like 4 hours and no nap lmaooo) and some anxiety from social things with easter, and OCD cuz oof that's not been fun lately, but I just always hope I make YOU happy guys <33 ilysmmmm and if you're still here, then ty and see you soon!!

Chapter 5: Am I To Blame For My Sick Frantic Brain.....

Summary:

We peek inside Noel's mind in the next week of life after 'the incident'.

Notes:

Hello my lovely people, if and when you are here, I hope you're doing well!!

I know this is a lil late but I decided I had to hurt them more and reworked the outline and all! 5 more chapters and lots more pain :)

This is also a shorter chapter 1.4k, but I didn't wanna add to it outside of Noel's head if 1.4k of it would be in it. So forgive me, but enjoy? I really need to get back to longer chapters, though, don't I? *sobs* idk why the lengths happen the way they do for things.

TW// trauma, homophobia, bullying, depression, ED, SH, Drinking and child abuse. WOWZA. Remember when I said more pain? Her'es a peek perhaps.

I feel bad posting this idk why, it's probably silly guilt but yeah just cuz idk if it's good let alone knowing it's already so short. Gahhh.

Title form Ansty by Upsahl!

I hope you enjoy and if you do maybe let me know so I stop feeling so guilty about this lmaoooo help /hj

After that moment, things went back to normal. Or at least, that’s what Noel wanted Misha to think… 

 

In reality, it had become a new normal. The next week was a mundane system of a few repetitive and not so desirable new habits to try and cope with the uncertainty he felt over all the feelings he had in his mind.

 

For starters, where one cut started, there were more to come. It wasn’t constant, or fast, but by the time a week had passed he’d done it two more times, and come close to it a few more. He couldn’t help it. The lines on his thigh weren’t just a reminder of what he did, but what caused it. And that had a lot of power. 

 

His love for Misha had so much power, he wasn’t even sure it was good. But it was real, and he clung to it now more than ever. He’d take fake love in return if he could just keep things the same. Being with Misha was so important, so safe…and even now when it wasn’t the safest (because of his own actions) it was still safer. 

 

He found he didn’t want to eat. There was always a hole in his gut that wrenched when Misha was nearby and giving him that look. The one that tried to assure it was okay. That said he was moved on. Noel being left in the dust with his own forms of paranoia and trust issues, never to have such light reach his eyes since the fight. 

 

Between not eating, the impulses to hurt himself, and the crushing weight of the cruel and unforgiving world, Noel just…tried to stay afloat. He tried to eat. He tried to stop the urges. And he tried to forgive. But it was never about forgiveness, especially when all he could forgive himself for was being himself. 

 

He hated himself. If Misha hated him, he had to, naturally. And whether the coping stopped that or not he did it. It’s all he had that he could turn to with his true self and all the vulnerability that built up. 

 

Did Misha actually hate him? Did he actually hate himself? All signs of his suffocating depression pointed to yes. 

 

He had depression before, for a while actually, and while it still came in waves now, this level hadn’t been something he dealt with since…. His dad left. 

 

He could still remember it well. It was cold. Always cold. And for the first time in a long time, a day in march looked nice. It was exciting, especially for a young boy like Noel, in 6th grade at the time. He wanted to go out and do something beyond the stupid town, and his dad just so happened to be off of work. 

 

With enough begging, his dad eventually pulled himself off the reclining chair in their living room and agreed to take the boy for some ice cream (if that shut him up). Noel was excited, and happily got in the car, on his best behavior of course. 

 

They drove for a while, the best ice cream being outside of their small cities limits, and he listened as his dad talked about whatever. It was rambling. Something he was prone to do when he was under the influence. Something Noel would only learn later. 

 

After he woke up, abandoned after his dad had run them into a pole on the corner of the very ice cream shop he sought out. 

 

He never saw him again after that to confirm it. Just heard his mom complaining about it from time to time. Like when he was caught and she went to go see him. Noel couldn’t come, but he got the jist when she slammed the front door and mumbled something about him being a useless drunk. 

 

He was depressed after that. His dad left them, and not just at a pivotal moment in his upbringing, but when he could have been dead from the blunt force trauma. And the way his mom made it seem, he didn’t give a fuck. 

 

Of course it didn’t help that that year was also the year that things like puberty and hormones and sex began to spread around their small catholic school. All the boys had something in common that it was evern more obvious without him saying anything he didn’t have. He liked boys, not girls, and accepting that was already hard enough with the church. Once peers were involved? Forget it. 

 

Rumors started. Noel’s dad left him because he’s gay or Noel’s dad ran him into that pole so he could kill him and try again for a real son. It clearly didn’t help. 

 

He cried himself to sleep a lot, until it became numbing. High school started and sarcasm hid his despair. He joined the choir so he could deal with Ocean. On purpose. She was one of the few people who was rude to him for him , not for being too feminine or gay or weird. 

 

He enjoyed choir even sometimes, like a group of misfits, but still knew life was worthless. Still planning to die young. Still sure his light would burn out at some pivotal moment that was so poetic the average person couldn’t even see it. 

 

Instead, he found Misha. And yeah, things weren’t perfect, but they proved you couldn’t determine life without living it first. He was cute and he had an accent and when Father Marcus made him sing he sounded heavenly. He wanted him. Or at least, the idea of him. Like a drug that kept him going in between the cracks of life.

 

They died after that, and Misha wasn’t an idea between the harsher moments, he was the one pulling him away from them. His anchor, his rock, his savior. He became a bit dependent, but it didn’t feel wrong, it felt good! All he had to do was love him, and suddenly he could love himself. Love the little things. Because when it started that's what Misha was . And he wanted a million things like that to grow around the both of them until they weren’t little anymore. They were everything. 

 

Misha was everything. All he had that seemed to matter anymore. And it was effortless love that brought him so much meaning! ….but did it mean what he thought? Or was it what he needed it to be when he needed it most? When he was dead and wanted comfort. A burden on Misha starting even then perhaps…

 

He shook his head as he thought back on that though. He couldn’t. He. Just. Couldn’t. Not if he wanted to survive. Not when he already felt close to not surviving. The worst part was. The good memories hurt too. 

 

So he was stuck without any thoughts towards him, just anxiety, even when he did something as simple as walk into their kitchen.

 

Noel would come out of his head- also a lot specier now- to see Misha over by the fridge in the mornings, grabbing himself some milk for his cereal. Noel would watch in silence, scared to say something more times than not. 

 

Misha would say good morning, make some comment about him getting up early lately, and continue on making his breakfast. Noel was getting up early. So he wouldn’t wake up and turn to see Noel next to him. Regret that he ever let him crawl in that bed ever again after everything. Find the way his hot skin laid again him to be annoying. 

 

Noel pretended to eat his own breakfast as he mostly let Misha talk and gave little nods and small smiles. He was more of a singer than an actor, but he had to do his best if he was going to survive. 

 

He envied the version of himself that never acted around him. That loved him and talked to him about anything and snuggled up to him in bed no matter the weather. But he had to act, and he had to act n the way he assumed Misha wanted him to. If he was doing that, and he was a problem, then those things were problems. Being himself was the problem. Acting was the opposite of that, and just part of the new normal he’d think of constantly. He had to act, and he had to act in a way that let Misha believe this was Noel, and that Noel was good. Or Misha would be gone, and Noel’s life would be over. 

And In his eyes, that end would be far, far too literal.

Notes:

Hello bottom AN readers, here's your sticker for joining the club

What did we think of this? I through in a tragic backstory last min just to crush him even more!

We <3 Pain!!

This was again, just in Noel's head, so you might hate it, but next time isn't if that's any consolation.

Once again, Noel has it wrong, Misha loves him, and if he knew it WASN'T okay, he'd tell him to stop acting, let him love him, and try and be okay again!!

Any advice for my writing issues also welcome lmaooo I wish this was funny

See you next time <333

Chapter 6: Cause I'm Afraid of Losing Everything I’m Ruining......

Summary:

Misha starts to notice Noel's not as perfect as he claimed, and goes to Noel's mom to see if she can give any insight on how he can make that perfect real.

Notes:

I SWEAR EVERYTIME I SAY I WONT BE AWAY LONG IT GETS WORSE AHHHHH

SO I AM BACK AFTER LONG (yay!) BUT I WONT SAY ANYTHING TO JINX THE FUTURE LMAOOO

I had some issues with my meds and stuff, but looky here, ya girl is indeed back :D and those meds are GONE!

This chapter, is as always, one I hope you like.

Can I get a "poor boys" from the backrow?? lmao, cuz yeah, still sad sillies, even if this ones mostly Misha focused.

2.6k words and TW's on the usual, same mentions from last time, and some drinking mentions

Wow I love to hurt the sillies don't you?? lmao maybe an evil laugh, but real! You love your angst, or you wouldn't be here, would you??

Chapter title from Verite's song Gone. A bop and a half I say <333

Btw we hit 24 kudos and beyond like I thought would be nice so ty for that! Always love you all!!

So shall we go to the chapter?? I vote yes!!!!

It isn’t instantly, since there's still some time he thought it would take to get back to normal, but the realization does come to Misha eventually. When normal never comes. And things with Noel seem to become distant. In a way that almost seems painfully out of either of there control. And with other things attached. 

 

One of the first things Misha notices is that Noel doesn’t smile. He notices it because he was waiting for it. Noel had a pretty smile, and he wanted to see it come back in full bloom. It hadn’t come yet, and it’d been a week since he wiped it away in the first place. He missed it, it hurt to see it so absent, especially since he knew in his silent solace it was his fault. 

 

Noel’s eating less. He stares at his food when they eat, picks at it, and just mumbles some vague response when it’s ever brought up. He knows the boy must not feel good, but once again, he knows it’s likely him to blame, and just once he wants to have a meal with him that feels normal. For both of their sake. 

 

He’ll usually take his own plate to clear, even if it’s Misha’s night to do the dishes. Feels like he’s trying to hide or cover things. Feels like he isn’t trusted. Misha knows he earned that. But it’s a plate, and this is their life, and it all feels so foreign. 

 

He knows Noel. Known him for a while now. Even when he knew him as the boy who sat in the top corner of the choir bleachers, small frown and focus lines, writing depressive poetry and stories of woe, it wasn’t this boy. That boy was sad, sure, but this boy seemed broken. 

 

Misha needed to fix it. It was his job too. Not just as his boyfriend. Not just as the one who caused it. But as the man who loved him. Whether Noel could trust it anymore, or felt it the same way, he swore to everything he was he loved him so much. 

 

Misha made a mistake, but Noel was paying for it, and it was beyond anything that was real or deserved. 

 

After a week or so, watching Noel’s life become the opposite of what he’d judged it for, he realized maybe if the trust really was part of the problem, it couldn’t just be him to fix it. That Noel wouldn’t let it be that. 

 

What he really wished was he could go back and undo it. He was bitter, and jealous, and he was comparing himself for all the wrong reasons. He took it out on Noel, but it wasn’t Noel’s fault that he was in the position Misha wanted to be in. It was lifes fault. And he never said it to his face because he knew it was petty. 

 

If he could have changed anything, he would have made himself happier, not Noel sadder. Of course it wasn’t that simple for his luck though, and now they were both sad. Miserable even. Not even having each other in the way that felt familiar. Everything they had was full of doubt and tainted with a new shade of blue that  he never wanted to touch the warm reds of their passion. 

 

The choir was an option, but he felt he needed something deeper. Someone who knew him longer. And yeah, they knew him longer than him, but he needed something even closer. And besides, the choir didn’t know about their fight or anything after it and he wasn’t sure Noel wanted them to. The last thing he needed to do was have Noel find that to be just as big of an offense against his trust as before.

 

There was one choice, the person he had in mind to see from the start. Noel’s mom. She knew about the fight. About Noel from the very start, through every up and down, and specifically this one. There was no hiding or sugarcoating, and he needed that, deserved that. Wanted the best shot he had, and it was her, whether she was happiest with him right now or not. She’d say yes. She loved Noel. And she’d want to say yes to anything that helped him. 

 

Noel went into work the next Monday a bit early. Misha didn’t know if it was to avoid him or if it was genuine. Both could be true, it wasn’t like he never went in early. But he was always questioning things now. It sucked. He kissed him goodbye with the idea he was leaving to avoid him and the kissed didn’t taste the same anymore because of it. 

 

He missed when his kisses tasted like a clear and endless future together. Now they tasted like self doubt and chapped lips that had no care to be worked on when they were dried out by salty tears anyway. Noel used to always have chapstick. Misha noticed of course, but he said nothing still. Wouldn’t dare to, at least yet. Wasn’t his place, judging or not. His place was to love those lips anyway. And he did. Even if they felt like they didn’t want to belong by his much more. 

 

Was it a kiss or a brush of obligation? Noel loved him. He knew that. But there was something there. A wall or a block. Like his love for him hurt him now. He hated it, sure Noel did too, but hate didn’t fix. He had to fix this for them. 

 

Misha didn’t have to go into work for another two hours, so he got ready as if it was normal and decided to take a stop on the way to Noel’s mom’s house. Fuck it though, at this point, he didn’t care if he even got fired, however long he had to stay or it took, he’d do it. 

 

She just needed to let him inside and talk to him. In Misha’s eyes there was a 50/50 chance he’d have to beg or appeal to her love for Noel over her distaste for what he’d done to him recently. He’d do that though. Again, he’d do anything. 

 

He pulled up into her driveway at 7 in the morning sharp, leaving right after Noel left their home. He didn’t tell him he was doing it, which he knew was also an ironically bad choice, but it’s not like he’d lie if he asked. This just seemed like it’d cause less mess if it was quiet. There’s no reason Noel would need to know or overthink it anyway, but at least this answer was safe if he did. 

 

He got out of his car, felt the fog in the air, and walked past it like it was nothing to the front door. He knocked on the door. Once, twice, then a third time. Teetering between scared she didn’t hear him and ignoring him. 

 

“ What?” The dark haired woman, gray, starting to prick at her roots sighed as the door flew open then. 

 

She was in her robe and slippers, her hair was a mess, and she wore her glasses, something she only did when she was waking up or going to bed. It appeared she was just asleep. Or she wanted it to seem that way. Which he needed to drop. He couldn’t be paranoid about this, if he and Noe were both paranoid, they’d never fix things. 

 

“Hello, Ms. Gruber, I-” 

 

“I said ‘what’ Misha, not ‘good morning,” She deadpanned, arms crossed as the cool, foggy air started to enter her home now too. “What are you doing here?”

 

“It’s about Noel,” He told her, hoping that opened his chances up. 

 

And it did. The door opened as she ushered him in, a bit more awake, yet also softer somehow as she did so. She closed the door behind him and her stance became a little less hostile. 

 

“Is he okay?” She asked, looking at him with focus. 

 

“I don’t know,” Misha told her, knowing the tip of his tongue said no, but was just scared to commit to it, at least to her. 

 

“What did you do to him now?” She walked further into the home. 

 

“I didn’t-” Her eyes stopped him from saying he did nothing, and yeah, she was right even if it was a semantic of sorts. “I have done nothing since we made up but loved and supported him!” his tone became more of a beg than a defense for himself. 

 

Needing her to link it all together and make sense if nobody else could, his last hope, surely just as eager to see him okay after they were both scared with the look of his pretty face completely crushed. 

 

“Okay, but did you actually make up?” She asked him. 

 

“What?” Misha’s face scrunched. “I apologized so much, and he said….” 

 

Misha thought about it. Yeah, he could say anything and do another. And clearly there was something in his eyes and body stances that didn’t match his assurances. But did it mean he didn’t forgive him? He really thought it over. While it could be easy to blame it on that and make it seem like he just needed to say sorry again or something, he knew it would do nothing. The pain didn’t seem swayed, and oddly, not about him whether it started that way or not. 

 

“No,” Misha decided firmly after his trailed off thought. “He tells me he loves me still, he’s home with me, he’s…he’s just different now.” 

 

“Different how?” 

 

“He doesn’t smile, and when he feels forced to, it never meets his eyes,” he began to explain, like a breath out of his lungs that burned to finally share it all. “He hardly eats anymore, even his favorites. He takes long showers, and swears half the time it’s to think, or be alone, or cry, or all of it. He doesn’t watch his movies. He doesn’t listen to music, let alone sing or hum anymore. He stopped wearing the cologne that makes him feel all pretty, he stopped talking to me about his interests, he no longer tastes like his mint chapstick or the cinnamon gum he chews when he’s driving home from work….he stopped shining, stopped being Noel, stopped making sense.” 

 

Misha knew people changed, but this was so much, so fast, directly linked to something. He still loved him, he never wanted these words to make it seem like he didn’t. But this person wasn’t the Noel he loved. They were hiding him, shielding him even, from him? He wanted him back and wanted to be the shield again. 

 

Funny how he’d die for him, yet he couldn’t even do anything right now to make him feel okay. Funny in the way that killed Misha in the very pit in his soul. 

 

Claudia frowned, taking all the little things in as so much more. She knew her son, and just like Misha she knew this wasn’t like the person he’d become. The happier Noel. 

 

But then again, she knew the sadder Noel well too. And even that Noel had things he liked. This Noel seemed practically numb.

 

She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she tried to think about it and not freak out. “I…I’m not used to it being like that.” 

 

“Me neither!” 

 

“But you’ve only known him since high school!” Claudia shot back. “I’ve known him since he was part of me! He’s always had things that brought him joy, even when there was more that didn’t. He always had his music, his poetry, his movies….even when he was too little he loved ice cream, and he had this little stuffed cat and-” her voice pitched as she got emotional. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Misha told her, sincerely. “I wouldn’t have come to you if I thought someone else could help.” 

 

“I shouldn’t have to help at all, you were supposed to love my son,” She cried. “Look what you did to my baby boy?” 

 

“I didn’t-” Misha swallowed now, a lump in his throat, finding it hard to navigate the half truths. 

 

“Don’t you care?” She asked him, sounding broken. 

 

But in reality it broke him. 

 

Of course he cared. That’s why he was here. He wanted to fix this, show how much he cared, and never let him doubt it again for the rest of his life. 

 

“I care more than you even know!” He defended, meaning it all. 

 

She shook her head lightly. “I don’t know what to think right now Misha, not when you caused it….but I see you’re hurt.” 

 

“I am,” Misha spoke. “And I won’t stop hurting until he stops too.” 

 

“You have to fix it,” She told him then. “If you mean that, you won’t give up.” 

 

“That’s why I came here….I didn’t know if you…” He looked into her eyes as he tried to find the words, but what could he say? Ask her if she knew how to fix him when he was this hurt? She clearly didn’t know, and clearly wasn’t the one who fixed it back when it was less intense anyway. That was Misha, and that’s why it fell on him. “Nevermind.” 

 

“I never wanna see my son like I saw him that night again Misha, I mean it,” She told him, sure if he wouldn’t finish talking she would finish the conversation for him, crystal clear. “My son was thriving more than he had in so long, and I know you gave him that, but it doesn’t mean it was yours to take away.” 

 

Misha wanted to cry as it hit him, it really was him that did it all, and for what? To feel better for a few seconds and not fix anything real? 

 

“I’m sorry, I never wanted that, and I don’t wanna see him like this anymore either,” He cried, voice tight in his throat. “I want him back.” 

 

“I want him back too,” She told him. “ Whatever that means.” 

 

Misha could tell her harsh tone was threatening. He didn't wanna be seen as a threat to Noel, but what was he supposed to do? Tell her she was wrong? She’d come back at him with far heavier things that only hurt him. He couldn’t focus on his hurt, he just needed to focus on fixing it all. 

 

If Claudia hated him, so be it, that’d be for another time. It only mattered what Noel thought. And Noel, somehow, someway in the mess still clung to loving one thing. Misha. 

 

Misha just had to hold onto that, and find a way to make it so it spoke louder than anything else in his mean mind right now. Until he heard it always followed by a response back that Misha loved him too and meant it. The way he was before the storm. 

 

How he would do that he had no idea though. Leaving Claudia empty handed did nothing but make him feel more pressure to make the unknown happen all on his own. He wasn’t afraid to say he cried a few times during the work day just thinking of how helpless it all seemed when it mattered so much. 

 

He needed Noel to be okay if anything was ever going to be okay again. And how did he start picking up the broken pieces when he wasn’t even sure which part of him he truly shattered? The stress of it all made him wanna puke, or cry more, or even drink…..

If he stopped at the bar for a drink before going home that night to Noel, the other wouldn’t have to know. Or at least know why. Misha drank from time to time still, even if he was better than he was in high school. All Noel needed to know was he was coming home to him to fix his problems, not discuss the beginning of a new problem for Misha, or the fact he still had no idea how he’d do it whether he was determined to or not.

Notes:

Oof, I sure hope that drinking doesn't mean or lead to anything....../lh

I think I mentioned I went back and added more pain lmao, at the very least more for misha, so surprise, hears a small taste of that.

Oof, Claduia really does care, and she's a parent so I don't know if I can "blame" here, but ouch :(

Misha fucked up, I say it a lot, and it's true, but he does love Noel and that won't change. Not sure it can change. They're soulmate boys.

Idk what to say other than the usual "prepare for more pain next time" speil. Maybe I need a stamp for it lmaoo.

See you soon(er)!! <333 ily!!

Chapter 7: Sometimes Love is Not Enough And The Road Gets Tough....

Summary:

Misha tries to fix what he's broken, but he only has so much control over that.

Notes:

Hello, who's ready for some sadness?? Lmao, that's why you come here right??

But what if this one isn't sad??? Hmmm?? What if?? Would I ever do that? Or am I teasing you? We'll see....

A lot of you were scared Misha was gonna drink and drive, and I'm not gonna lie, he probs did, but he wasn't SOOOO drunk that he didn't get home okay. I headcanon the bar is nearby and Misha hold liquor well if not too overdone and idk throw in some luck too? It could happen though, since you all inspired me <33 /evil

I'm such an evil author lmao, but you love me right? Thank you!! I love you too! Enough to tell you NOT to drink and drive like you guys said, or to do ANY of the stuff in this fic lmao, stay safe babes!

TW// References to self harm, self hatred and drinking

3.5k words which is fun and nice and all! Not a TON but even my first ever fic had some chaps that were that much so <33 not too shabby or bad, eh? (eh is canada core, I love nisha, they're in Canada lmao) (I can connect those boys to anything, I'm obsessed)

Does anyone else just think about these boys ALL THE TIME? or am I autistic and insane lmao

This is not a TW BUT there is some talk of Smexy time lmao, no actual content, you're safe if you don't like that, still Pg-13 and all. But just so you know!!

I feel like I always tweak the outline a little, chap by chap, which is nice. Means I'm writing with freedom, not held down. But it's still the right vibes ofc! <33

I really hope you guys are enjoying this and only sorry once again it wasn't sooner. I had stuff to do, and sleep, and just busy. If it makes you feel better though, I wrote this to get back to you guys over school work due on Sunday night lmaoo. Idk if that was a good idea tbh, but I love you more than school so I committed!

Chap title from Born to Die by Lana Del Rey. S/o to 6th grade me on her lana fix. We adore you <3

Also if you read the chap summary (I'm assuming you guys do?) then wish Misha some luck!! And give our boys love regardless. They deserve it!

You're the best always my readers!! I saw we hit 30 kudos like whaaaa, iconic!! Enjoy this one if you dare! <33 ;)

Misha had an idea, eventually, but there was no promise it was a good one. He had to try. He had to believe in it. At the very least I hope it was good. It was literally his only viable idea at this point. And it only came to him after he woke up, trying to hide his minor hangover, glad he wasn’t too drunk to be noticed by the forever-drifting-off boy.

 

His idea was to try and have a nice night with Noel. Date night if you will, but at home where things could be comfortable and without any pressure from any sort of audience. Noel felt so fragile, and yeah he went out to work and stuff, but he wasn’t taking chances. 

 

Maybe if Noel could feel what it was like to have a good night again, it’d make things normal again. Remind him he wanted normal. That it was so good, if he could just let go of what destroyed it. Why not now? He had to sometime. …right?

 

Misha couldn’t think too deeply about it, at least about it not working. He put all the effort into making sure it would. He got takeout from Noel’s favorite restaurant. He picked up some champagne. He even got Connie to make him some chocolate strawberries he could pick up from the cafe on his way home. 

 

She had asked what they were for. Luckily, even at Misha and Noel’s lowest dips they were always doing sweet things for each other. He told her it was some minor anniversary, and she just blushed with envy, mumbling about how cute they were. The perfect couple. If only love was enough to make that true again. 

 

Maybe with some luck, love, and the effort to make Noel feel safe loving him again- like second nature to just be with him without any hesitations- would do that. 

 

Noel was always perfect. Misha was where the flaws came in. He knew it. He saw it happen for the first time in a way that Noel couldn’t just ‘forgive’. Sure he said he did, but it hung with him. And Misha couldn’t even blame him. 

 

Noel was still perfect, even if he was having a hard time. If anything he was a victim. The thought made Misha sick. It’d be one thing if he didn’t love him, but he did so much it hurt. He wanted to take all the pain in his heart and no, not just turn it into functional joy. This was so beyond the love he thought he had expressed for someone else. This was what he’d die for. 

 

It wouldn’t come to that though. There were pieces of them still in there that were good. Noel had to know that. See it again. And remember that mattered way more than words he never meant anyway. 

 

Noel got home and went straight for the shower. Misha knew it seemed like a depressive new habit, but he didn’t frown or even try and stop him. He let him go. Because it allowed him to set up everything he had and was hiding when he got home only five minutes earlier. 

 

He got right to it. Noel liked long showers. But not ones that took all night. There had to be some haste in the perfection. A gesture wasn’t enough. It had to be everything they thought they’d never lose. 

 

He almost popped the champagne early. His nerves were begging for it. When he used to drink to cope he would get like this, but after he left that horrible basement and Noel encouraged him to try and taper off of it a bit, he didn’t drink or get drunk because he was in agony. It was always just because it was for him. He wasn’t used to the bottle calling to him until his hand shook and he had to force himself away for a bit until Noel was there. 

 

He shook it off as nerves, but it was a bit startling to see again. As long as he didn’t see it again. As long as he made things okay, he’d have no reason for the call inside his head for it to be so damn needy. 

 

Everything was out then, right on their coffee table. A lot more intimate he supposed than the distant, cold table. He had the lights dimmed, a few candles, and he’d even gotten some flowers for it all too he’d almost even forgotten. He put those in a vase right where Noel would be sitting in front of. His favorite flower. Red roses. 

 

The food was moved from containers to plates, and was warmed back up so it was nothing less than what made Noel happy. The strawberries were still in their case (how could he not leave them in it when it was heart shaped?), but had the lid off to display Constance's great and delicious work. 

 

Two empty glasses were placed out just in time with Misha hearing the water shut off. He timed it well, and sighed with relief over that fact. Even if Noel still took a bit longer than normal to get dried and dressed. 

 

He came out of their room in pajamas- some plaid cotton pants and an old hoodie of Misha’s Noel had stolen from him to sleep in years ago. He had said it was so soft, but Noel would steal sniffs of it all the time, and knew it felt good for him to sleep in beyond the fabric alone. 

 

He wanted to be that again. Not just his hoodie, but him. His arms, around him, mean something beyond a pattern. A choice. One that said he still loved him every bit as much as he did when he first felt it rise in his chest like a hot air balloon. 

 

“Misha why are the lights-” Noel stopped playing with the string on the hoodie and looked directly at the boy in front of him. 

 

He wasn’t in pajamas. He was in a white button up and black pants. He looked so handsome. And yet, something about his smile, felt less like happiness to Noel, and more like a sign. A sign he was trying so hard, and Noel was giving him nothing. 

 

Suddenly he felt embarrassed. He couldn’t believe it would be a trap for him, Msiha was too sweet for that. But maybe it was a silent test. Maybe Misha was trying to see if Noel fit into his ideal life anymore. Give Noel something so easy to pass, that anyone would be so happy for, and watch him still fail. 

 

Noel didn’t want him to see that. He saw enough. He had no idea how he still had Misha, but he did. Yet if this was what he wanted? Shouldn’t he try? He wanted to cry at the thought it still might not be enough. Could he ever be enough? He wasn’t before, so how could he be now? He felt like he deserved none of this, but perhaps what came after. Yet, call him selfish, he still didn’t want it. 

 

“I’m sorry….” Noel’s voice fell low again as he tried not to cry, staring at the candle’s flickering flame to try and transfix his vision and stop the tears.

 

Misha instantly frowned and leaned forward with panic. “ No, what?!” He asked, not knowing how it could go so bad already. “Why do you say that?” 

 

“I’m in my pajamas for starters,” Noel mumbled as he pulled at the fabric. “Freaking hideous ….” 

 

Misha frowned further. That was not the point of this! Yet he looked so embarrassed. Misha knew he was in the shower! Misha knew he’d come out dressed less than him. He didn’t dress up to make him feel bad or even ugly. Noel was beautiful. Just like that and always. 

 

“Noel, stop it, you’re gorgeous-” 

 

“And I didn’t do anything for you!” He continued to ramble his distressful thoughts aloud. 

 

“You don’t need to! I just want to spend time with you!” Misha got up now, to come closer to the boy and show him that he meant it. 

 

Noel watched Misha almost trip over the coffee table to get to him and just felt worse, a soft sob escaping as he quickly hid his face. “I can’t believe I forgot.” 

 

“Forgot what?” Misha asked, finally in front of him, gentle with his words and touches to his shoulders as they tried to not heave with his heavy breathing. 

 

“You-” Noel swallowed. “Are you saying you didn’t tell me about this before?” 

 

Misha’s brow furrowed. “No.”

 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel less bad?” 

 

“No,” Misha told him. “I promise, poet.” 

 

Noel’s sniffing died down as he peaked out a bit. Not at Misha, but the floor where his mismatched socks were. “Still I….” 

 

“Nothing,” Misha stopped him from doing anything further to demean himself. “I did this so we could enjoy the night, okay? Not to upset you.” 

 

Yet Noel went and got upset anyway. Ruining it. Making it less than what Misha deserved and more than he himself ever did. 

 

“I’m sorry….” 

 

“No, no sorries,” Misha told him, kissing his face gently as he tried to guide him back over to the sofa. “Just let me spoil you.” 

 

Noel didn’t know how to say no. So he didn’t. He’d rather die than try and explain to Misha he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. He wanted to. And so he’d just have to hope it would be okay after all. That he’d forget this current feeling, and remember to enjoy Misha. If he couldn’t, why hold on to him so tightly anyway? Why ruin this and hurt the boy he loved? Why did he always do this?

 

“Okay…..” 

 

“Good,” Misha couldn’t help but kiss him one one time on the cheek before he felt they could really start the night. 

 

Misha moved to grab the champagne bottle, feeling a bit less intense in his hands now. It’s purpose wasn’t to fuel himself, but to make Noel happy. If he could do that? He’d never need to fuel himself with anything negative ever again. 

 

“Будьмо!” Misha told him as he popped the top off, seeing the smoke go as he happily moved to pour it first into Noel’s flute, then his own. 

 

Noel gave a gentle smile, only lasting a moment to return the sentiment, but still…it lit Misha up. He saw Noel do that a few times over the week, but they looked forced. This looked real. And suddenly, the champagne bubbles weren’t the only thing tingling. The butterflies in his stomach were too. And it felt great. 

 

It could work. And honestly, the further into the night they got, the more Misha believed it. Noel’s eyes looked like they didn’t hold the weight of everything. They seemed light and free and like they could really come back to him as he was. 

 

He loved him, loved the way they lived together. Maybe what he had with Noel was the highlight of his life. Maybe he didn’t need to complain about the little things that were never perfect and remember what he had. He had Noel. The star in the night sky. And he seemed to glow a bit more tonight. Maybe it was in his head. He didn’t care. He clung to it the way Noel clung to him now, and hoped for the best. 

 

Maybe even made it happen? 

 

Misha couldn’t help it. It felt natural. Felt right. Not like rushing, but like breathing. 

 

The pair were more laid back, champagne glasses in their hand. There was an extra bottle there too, but it hadn’t been opened. The pair were merely sipping as they spoke. The meal was nice, and the strawberries still laid out looking lovely as ever. 

 

Misha leaned forward for one, placing his glass down again as he plucked the leaves from it. Noel assumed he’d put it in his own mouth, but instead, he raised it up to Noel’s lips. Noel wouldn’t deny it. It smelled divine and had his taste buds watering. He loved these damn things. 

 

Misha’s hand had a small bit of melted chocolate when he pulled away, and he almost moved to wipe it off before deciding to just lick them off. Noel was chewing but his eyes showed a light that looked like laughter. Misha was happy with that as he got one for himself this time. 

 

There were only a half dozen in the box, so the pair was able to eat them. Noel went to feed himself one when Misha gave him a look and opened his own mouth. Noel went ahead and did it. Small pittance of giving him something he deserved. It felt good, even if it felt like it was still too small. 

 

“You have some on your lips,” Noel motioned at his own mouth to show the messier boy where it was on him. 

 

“You do too,” He giggled. 

 

“No I don't!” Noel shot back, grabbing his phone from the table to open up the camera app and look at himself. “You little liar…” he mumbled when he closed his phone, seeing exactly zero chocolate on his face. 

 

When he turned back to Misha, he looked a bit off though. 

 

Noel called him a liar. Fuck. “Misha, I’m sorry I-”

 

“It was a joke, Noel,” Misha assured him. “You remember those right?” 

 

Noel swallowed heavily, Misha cupping his burning cheek as he looked at him. Noel felt ashamed again. Maybe he had forgotten those. Everything just felt so serious lately. Life or death. When you’re drowning, you have no time for jokes. But he had made one, yeah, it just felt like it wasn’t allowed anymore. 

 

The way Misha looked at him gave him hope it was. But could he trust him? He always had hope in the boy. And yet….what happened? He wanted to so fucking bad! Why wasn’t it easier? Why was he like this? He knew a normal person wouldn’t. It was only more proof of how broken he was. 

 

Misha might blame himself for it, but Noel was sure it was always there. Why else would this all happen anyway? Misha had to know deep down, even if he denied it, just like Noel knew now. 

 

Before Noel could say anything else though, Misha was talking again, so close to him that he could smell the dark chocolate on his breath. 

 

“And besides, you really do have chocolate on your mouth…..” 

 

“No I don’t, I looked,” Noel rolled his eyes, without hatred, just exhaustion. 

 

“But you do, поет!”

 

“Where then?!” 

 

Misha pulled him even closer. His eyes met his, not like a stranger on the street, but like a familiar intensity. One that knew him, and saw deep inside him. His pupils were blown wide, and his heart rate grew. Noel knew those eyes had something to say that held a lot more weight than chocolate. 

 

“Right here….” He breathed out, before plunging forward and meeting his lips to his. 

 

They certainly did now, as every part of his lips touched the others. Impossible to miss a single piece of the boy he craved. He kissed even needier as he realized the other boy wasn’t pulling away. Noel’s hands found the other boy’s waist as he kissed back a moment. 

 

It was like catching lightning in a bottle. Or perhaps, catching a glimpse of his Noel again. And God, it was so close to him, he was touching it, devouring it. And it still wasn’t enough. 

 

He pulled away and Noel was wiping at his mouth a moment later. He looked at his thumb where the chocolate transferred and just shook his head. Again, not maliciously. It was nice to see and not have to question the intention of his every move. If it was his doing, or just life. 

 

Misha kept his eyes trained on those lips for a moment longer than others might. But he was so hungry. Life felt so lonely, even when he had the boy in his arms, and he wanted something more. Something that always spoke louder than his words. Showed his passion was for him. The way a body could talk, it didn’t lie, not like the words that hurt him. He wanted to swallow those words back, then use his mouth to swallow down Noel’s every doubt until he was left tangled in him with intentions so true nothing could untangle them all again. 

 

Rage got him into this, and it felt like true passion could be the thing that sealed this being them again. It’d been too long. And it’d been too awful without his love. 

 

Misha picked his champagne glass back up and took a sip before he spoke. “Do you wanna go to our room?” 

 

“I don’t think I’m tired yet,” Noel spoke before he caught thos eyes again. “Oh you mean…” 

 

“Yes,” Misha told him, a faint smile. “Let me show you how much I love you.” 

 

“You-you already have,” Noel looked away from him, to the scene in front of them, already closing off as his hands folded in his lap. 

 

“That is not enough,” Misha scooted closer to him. “Come on.” 

 

Noel shook his head. He couldn’t. For so many reasons. Speaking wasn’t an option as his body threatened to throw up, or cry, or just die right there. 

 

His thighs, littered with scars now, were not something he needed Misha to see. Ever. God, was he never going to make love to Msiha again then? Maybe that was insane to think of. Even if Noel was okay with it (he wasn’t, really), Msiha sure wouldn’t be. 

 

He’d lose him. He was doomed. Fuck. He at least needed some time. Time he didn’t have. If this really was a test he blew it. He might as well just let his throat open up and swallow him like it felt like it would do. Suffocate in his own miserable existence. 

 

There was so many issues beyond it too. The trust issues. The self hatred. The doubts. Was this a pity thing? A bigger test? What if he just…wasn’t enough anymore? What if everything was wiped clean from his skin and his heart and somehow, everything that changed him, made him less than ever. 

 

He knew he didn’t deserve him, but this felt lose lose. He could give him every part of his body, and it still not be what Misha deserves. Yet telling him no? Forever? He didn’t deserve that either. 

 

Noel was so broken. And broken toys didn’t get played with. Didn’t deserve to. 

 

“I’m sorry….I can’t.” 

 

Misha scooted even closer. “Noel, don’t be like that, we had a good night, I know you’re scared but-” 

 

“I’m not scared!” Noel told him, defensive as the panic rose higher and higher. He stood to get away from him, fearing the proximity only made it harder to not cry and lose it all now. Time might not do anything, but he couldn’t throw in the towel. He was just…so upset with himself. And now it was going towards Misha and he couldn’t stop it. 

 

Ironic, huh? Misha recognized it, so he didn’t take ti personally, but dammit, he felt so close, and now the boy was far away. So far. Even physically. He didn’t need sex, he just needed to know it was okay. And this…this said it wasn’t. Said it might never be something he could. 

 

“Just…stop it, okay?” Noel told him. “I don’t have to sleep with you anytime you ask.” 

 

Misha felt offended at that, so he scoffed. “I never said you had to.” 

 

“Then let me go!” Noel spoke, eyes trying not to water again. 

 

“Noel, you’re-” Misha was going to argue semantics, but then noticed his blood was starting to boil, and nobody needed that. He put his hands up. “You’ve been free to go, always….I’m sorry for asking.” 

 

Noel turned around and left. To cover the trail of tears he felt. He felt so bad. So sick. Msiha was angry. Misha hated him. Said he was ‘free to go’. He must be waiting for him to do just that and free Misha too. 

 

He hated himself too. Still. Even with the peak at something nice, there was always a voice there saying it was wrong. And that voice was himself. So he hated himself. Every piece of himself. Not enough to leave. But just enough to remember how much he hurt everytime he looked at his lover and remembered what he was always doing to him, one way or another, without a doubt. 

 

He was disappointed. And yet he was here. What else could he do but cry about it? 

 

Misha knew at this point, Noel wanted space. He said as much. So he’d give it to him. But being alone with his thoughts didn’t help. Where did this night go wrong? What did he do? Why couldn’t he fix this? 

It might not fix it, or give him any better ideas, but he moved for the extra bottle and planned to drink again. Noel would cry himself to sleep, and Misha would drink himself into a state of forgetting it was his fault he was. He had to.

Notes:

Hi again, from Bottom AN sierra, whose the same person but always visits you after pain on this one! :D /lh

I want a snack, but imma write this first :)

The poor kids, even if not kids anymore, are struggling. Their communication, they're trust issues, they're unhealthy coping. Oof.

Misha was being so sweet, and I really do think Noel allowed himself to respond on some level. But was a night like that ever gonna be enough to solve what's clearly very deep?? Probbaly not :(

Noel cutting on his thighs vs elsewhere was implied before, but now you know. Still want you guys to be careful and not be triggered by that. You're too loved by me to ever be hurt. <33 Will Misha ever see though if Noel's not gonna be intimate with him and has his guard up for it? For Noel's sake, before it gets bad, we can hope. At least if we think Misha can make that better and not worse...

Mental health is so complicated. If Misha really thinks this is just cuz of words and not something that's always had a root in Noel since he was younger, he has a huge realization coming for him!

And since Noel thinks Misha might not love him, and he does, he has that to realize too.

I think those things are key here! But will we ever get them? Or will we just get more sadness?

Find out next time on LIU :D /lh I'm so silly, don't hate me, Ily guys byeeeee!!! <33

Chapter 8: New Lows, New Sins To Lose Myself In....

Summary:

Misha drinks, then drives, then drinks, then drives, then.......??

Notes:

Wow i haven't been here, or anywhere in way too long.

Tonights not been a good night so idk how much I'll talk, but I have missed you and I'm sorry I'm not here on better terms

I've just been dealing with a lot of sleep issues, appointments, and school I force myself through so badly

This chapter's TW would be // Drinking, drunk driving, vomiting, car crash, hints at an ED, and just overall boys in pain

it's like 3.6k which isn't bad I don't think. I hope it's good. I sorta wrote it in between crisis tonight. Idk man, life's hard.

Chap title from New skin by verite :P it's a v small like transition song

Ty for all the love you've given though, on old stuff or in between, you guys help me a lot, and I want you to know I love you all even more than you say you love me or my works, you mean a ton to me <33

Enjoy if you're sick and you can enjoy angst! (that's real tho lol)

 

Misha wasn’t stupid. He knew when he heard the lock on the door and the crying it was his fault. He was so sure he wouldn’t make things worse, he wanted to make them better. But here they were. Opposite of the last time. Misha on the outside, wishing for a redo. 

 

He’d already had a redo. A huge redo when he came back to life alongside the rest of the choir. And he thought he’d never trade that for anything. But what if this was worse? What if coming back was always gonna leave them hurt? He didn’t want that. 

 

Maybe they could have just been dead together. He knew one thing for sure, he wouldn’t have been on any dumb phone calls had he stayed dead. There was no wifi, nor service there. Just time. Time right now, felt like it was suffocating. It kept going, but nothing changed or fixed it. And he was more stuck alive than he’d felt when he’d tried to accept fate….next to the same boy he had with him here only more broken now. 

 

He knew he was going to drink, but the fact that Noel was closed away made it feel better. Like Noel couldn’t judge him for it. Would he judge him anyway? He didn’t think so. Maybe silently. Maybe he deserved it. He was so fucking tired of thinking until his brain hurt though. 

 

He wanted the numbness that came with drinking, so he took it, snatching one more bottle of champagne off the coffee table for himself and himself alone. He held it tight, then moved to cradle it like it was priceless as he read the label of it. Some French names. So Noel. It's the whole purpose. 

 

He loved that boy, he loved him so fucking much, but he just couldn’t look at something that reminded him of the boy he felt like he somehow killed. Now more than ever. Fuck…he could still hear him crying. 

 

He needed to drink it. Now. 

 

He stood up off the couch in a whirlwind and went over to their kitchen. The cries softened from there, but he needed more of a barrier. He popped the extra champagne open and didn’t even grab a glass. He chugged a fourth of it straight off the bat. That felt better than he’d felt since he knew he fucked things up. 

 

The swallow was heavy, and the bit on his lips leftover were licked up right after too. He leaned against the island of the kitchen, cool against his hands and arms. It felt just as tingly as the champagne started to. But he still went in for more. 

 

After that, he moved over to the drawer and found a bit of duct tape. He wrapped it off with a deafening crease on top of silence and muffled crying. He used it to cover the front of the bottle so he could drink in the emptiest way possible, as alone as he felt, and then put it away. 

 

‘Please fall asleep.’ Misha then begged in his head. Referring to Noel of course. 

 

Not only was the crying painful for Misha, knowing he caused it, couldn’t fix it, and was only allowed to hear it. But he knew it hurt Noel. He sometimes wondered if he got any peace when he slept. He hoped he did for Noel’s sake. But he hoped he could bring that back to the real world too one day. Clearly, Misha alone couldn’t. 

 

Misha bit his lip, still feeling a bit of champagne on it, and went back to the bottle for more. He chugged more, no hesitations as the bottle came back half full this time. He already knew he’d drink it all. But if he was riding out the night with it, he needed to pace some of it. Yet, he still needed to start with that high where pain couldn’t touch him as deeply. 

 

Even as the feeling waved over him though. He still heard the sound of Noel. And it didn’t get any better. It only made him feel worse, because he was still crying. 

 

He’d go insane listening to it. Not with hatred, but with guilt. And God only knows if Noel saw him, he’d think it’s the first one. He couldn’t do that. Had to protect Noel. Because he wasn’t ust protecting him from the truth, but what he’d have after when the gut feelings kicked him down and he was spiraling. 

 

He abandoned his alcohol, clearly not the key to overcoming this right now. He grabbed the real key. Yes, his actual keys, and left out the house. 

 

Noel would fall asleep soon he was sure. Misha would not be missed at this moment. And he was okay with that. All couples had those moments. He’d be back and maybe it’d hurt less for both of them. Besides, he wasn’t going far away. 

 

The bar near them was only a block away. And who knows? If he goes fast enough, maybe the alcohol will still be at the surface. He’d be fine. Besides, he was fine last time… 

 

Misha got in the car and yeah, somehow, slowly cruising down the street, he made it there in one piece. His car as well. It was the first car he had that wasn’t junk. He was happy it was not wrecked, and saw it as a sign that tonight could be okay now. 

 

He walked inside, sat at the bar, and ordered a shot and a beer right off the bat. He pulled his wallet out and put the money down as he waited. The new air, even if stuffy, just felt a bit freeing. 

 

He could still have a good time. Nice moments. Reasons to exist that didn’t make him flinch with nerves of it unraveling. 

 

He loved Noel, but Noel didn’t control him. It was awful he hurt him, but he didn’t have to be hurt all the time too because Noel couldn’t get over it. He tried! He’d still try. He deserved this. Noel was not the deciding factor. And he wasn’t going to ruin this. 

 

He grabbed the shot as the money slid away and behind the counter. He downed it. The vodka oddly felt like home. He’d have another at some point. But for now he went for the beer. 

 

The bar was a piece of junk, but he knew it enough. Wasn’t any worse than his basement. And it was certainly better than the haunting echoes of the way he’d just… let everything go to shit over something so small and, at least in hindsight, stupidly meaningless. 

 

There were a few people at the bar with him. Older than him, the type that would come and complain about their wives to each other. Then there was one bartender, usually the same person, who knew Misha well enough to never have to card him, even when he was younger. Then there was an old stereo, a dart board with a million holes in it, and floors stained with all sorts of liquor and crap from the years. 

 

It was clear the bar was old. Rumored to have started when the mines opened. Many owners, many ups and downs, and small things to change it up, but its roots were firm from always. It still stood. He was still standing too, no matter how doomed he felt sometimes. 

 

He took another sip of the beer. It was basically garbage, but he was never picky. It was cheap and still got him drunk. 

 

“Hey, boy,” Someone watching him from a few seats down. “You haven’t been here in a while, what brings you back?”

 

Misha looked at him, unsure he wanted to engage. He settled on a shrug. But feared it spoke volumes as he turned to his friend with a hearty chuckle. 

 

“Something tells me you’re trying to get away from an old ball an’ chain, ain’t ya boy?” He spoke out. 

 

Misha felt a pit in his gut. He knew he’d never confirm or deny anything to these idiots, but he couldn’t help but worry deep down, even if he wouldn’t word it that way, he was doing that. He never wanted to be these people. But wasn’t he? 

 

“Don’t see a ring,” the one next to him spoke as he peered over the way. “Still have time to bolt!”

 

He didn’t want to bolt. This wasn’t what this was. It was just….it was different. It had to be. He still loved him. He truly did. He didn’t stop….he never wanted to stop, but he… fuck. What if him leaving for the night was his way of keeping that around? 

 

In a more fucked up way, maybe that was what these awful people who escaped here thought they were doing too. 

 

Even as the thought made him sick, he chugged more alcohol. It was all he could do. All he felt he had the power to in this situation. 

 

“Oh, shit, maybe they aren’t married, maybe he knocked her up!” the other laughed. “Look at him chugging that shit! That’s an 18-years-at-the-hip chug if I ever saw one, ain't that right, Bucky?” 

 

“Yup,” the guy nodded. “Looks like me when i was younger!” 

 

“And without the beer gut!” The other slapped him as the two erupted in laughter. 

 

“Fucking- shit, shut the fuck up, my god,” Misha cursed them as he finally snapped and hit the now-empty beer bottle down on the bar. “You do not know me!” 

 

“So then everything’s all sunshine?” Bucky smirked. 

 

Misha narrowed his eyes. “Fuck off,” he said, seeing their amusement as he decided to slide all the way down to the other side of the bar.

 

He called the bartender from his new seat, seaking more alcohol. He ordered more, multiple, right off the bat. His leg shook as he waited for it. He was so fucked if he thought he’d get out of here without being drunk. But he couldn’t care. Last time was two beers, this time, it was never ending in possibilities as far as he could see. 

 

Because the more he thought, the harder it got. And he just couldn’t stop thinking. No matter how much he poured into his system with the hope it would. 

 

He had a bad day. Maybe more than one, but only one that changed anything. And it wasn’t Noel’s fault. But he was paying for it. And Misha was too. And yeah he probably deserved some of it. But he didn’t know why they had to stay on it. It felt like it was just to torture him, but at the same time, the hurt was real. He saw it. And he felt it in himself too. 

 

It had been born of the smallest thing, and now it infested his being. Noel’s being. Every waking moment of their life. It felt so unfair. What he said was unfair too, he knew the irony, but they could both have a great life if Noel could just let them! Why couldn’t he let them?! 

 

He didn’t wanna blame him, he knew it wasn’t a choice, but fuck, it felt like, there was only one thing stopping them from being good again. And that one thing was also torturing them. And, fuck, that thing wasn’t Misha!

 

He wanted to be mad at someone though, so he settled on life. Ironic considering how much he used to blame death. Times just changed things…it had been 5 years after all. 

 

5 years of them being fine. Of picking up the pieces of the cyclone together. Both somehow even stronger from it. Life was bad, but coming out together from the ‘rubble’ of it all? That was supposed to mean something. Including security for them. 

 

Now? He felt like they were back to where it was before the cyclone. Sure, they were older and together now. But look at him. He was drinking, in the same bar, trying to avoid the troubles he had. And Noel? Well, he could only assume this was at least somewhat it was like for him based on what he’d heard. 

 

He drank a lot when first coming here. All the time. Bottles and more bottles, vodka and whatever he could mop from the local store. Some empty, some waiting to be emptied into his throat when on the cusp of a breakdown. 

 

Anger. Rage. Despair. Yeah he had passion, but back then, most of his passion was stuck under pounds of abuse and hatred. It came out when he’d go online and talk to Talia, or in his dreams perhaps too, but never in a way he could truly grasp. It’d been a while since he thought of any of that stuff, but now he did, and he hated that he was back here again. 

 

Noel, as he said, could only base on what he heard. But when he was in highschool, before the cyclone, whether Misha was around or not, had struggled. The choir, Noel’s mom, and even Noel himself had said as much. And it wasn’t hard to believe. 

 

The boy loved tragedy, so it was a bit ironic he couldn’t love himself for a good few years. Sure he had people around him who lacked the support he deserved, but didn’t that type of stuff make him root even harder when it was in one of his films? 

 

His stupid fucking films. Misha would do anything to just watch one of those again. He really would. 

 

Noel was depressed and anxious. Lost in the world. Alone and waiting on a precipice. Would he get to Paris? Would he die first? He thought he had the answer after the cyclone. But if anything it gave him more life than ever. Through Misha. 

 

Maybe it was some codependency. Maybe that wasn’t the best either. But, the opposite of that didn’t have to be this. 

 

Yet, no matter how much Misha drank, they were both still there. 

 

Misha reached the bottom of his last beer. He felt tipsy, but he also felt sick. And while the emotions were churning his gut to bits and pieces, he figured it could also easily be from how much he just drank. 

 

He should go home. He had to really. Escaping was never really escaping. And he’d rather be with Noel so he knew he was okay than here if he was gonna hurt anyway. Noel was never the problem, even if it lived in him. And besides, there was a real chance that you could argue, Noel being stubborn with it or not, Misha still caused it. 

 

It was fucked. He didn’t wanna put blame on anyone. Just wanted to go home and remind himself that at least he still had the boy. 

 

It took him a few tries to get his keys in the keyhole. He heard his keychain jangle a bit, but ignored it as he cursed to the car. Eventually it went in, and he breezed past it. Then he went out on the dark, open, stupid Uranium city roads. 

 

It was a short way away. So even with the key thing, he should have been fine. Would have still went if he noticed it was due to his alcohol or not just clumsiness. But it wasn’t. 

 

When turning into their small apartment complex, even with a light attached to it, he took the turn too fast and early, and his car hit the large light pole at the entrance of the place. 

 

“Shit!” 

 

Misha shouted as he watched the lines wobble and the bulb spark a bit. The whole thing shook, and that's when he figured he needed to get out of the car in case it fell on him. He stumbled out, almost falling over as he looked at the scene.

 

‘Shit’ was an accurate comment indeed. 

 

He knew he had to call Noel. He instantly sobbed at the idea, letting himself sit down on the ground and just lay there. He figured he was safe from the harm of the pole then, but maybe he should have just let it all kill him. Noel would be hurt, Noel would blame himself, or anything else but brush past this. 

 

And it’d be his fault again. He could never do any shit right, but it was now constantly on him to do it. Even though he was scared too. And he just….took his time to sob on the side of the dirty road as he realized his fate here wasn’t fair, but still true. 

 

Eventually he reached into his pocket and called Noel’s phone. 

 

“Hello?” he boy sounded groggy, or tired from crying, or even both. 

 

Misha swallowed as he prepared his words. “Noel, I’m sorry, I-” 

 

“If you wanna talk, you could have just knocked.” 

 

“I- uh….I’m not home…not technically….” The boy closed his eyes in wait. 

 

“You-” Noel took a sharp breath he could hear through the phone. “You left me?” 

 

“Yes, but, not- I just-” Misha silently cursed at how bad that conclusion was. “I was coming back.” 

 

“Were you?” 

 

Misha’s heart hurt at that. “Yes… I can prove it.” It made him sick he even had to though. “I…I crashed the car on the way back.” 

 

“You, what?!” Noel was fully awake now. “Are you okay?!” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Are you drunk?!” 

 

“.....yes.” Misha didn’t feel any better to admit it outloud. 

 

“Where are you?” Noel asked, shuffling in the back of the phone. 

 

“I’m at the, uh, front thing….” Misha looked up at the light again. “The light pole in front of our apartment.”

 

Noel just hung up. Misha assumed he was on the way. He never doubted for a moment, even with all our pain, they’d be there for eachother. He looked up at the sky as the lightbulb gave out and saw the stars just as Noel turned up in his pajamas. 

 

“What the-” Noel gasped as he approached the car. “Jesus Christ!”

 

“I know,” Misha winced from where he laid. 

 

Noel hadn’t even seen the boy on the ground. 

 

“Oh my fucking God, are you okay?!” He ran over, thinking the worst when he saw him lying there. 

 

“I’m fine,” Misha held his hands up, not to get up, but just to hold his hand. 

 

Assure him he was there and in one, drunk yet perfect piece.

 

“Why are you on the ground?” he frowned. 

 

“Laid down here,” Misha told him. “Everything is even more fuzzy now.” 

 

Noel sighed and turned back to the car. Noel tried to be quiet but Misha heard him curse over it all. How he was now the disappointment. Not that Noel ever was. 

 

“We’re gonna have to call someone, there’s no fucking way this isn’t gonna be noticed by the complex or the city or just anyone,” Noel sighed. “You do have your insurance info right?” 

 

“In the car…” 

 

Noel grabbed his cellphone and started to dial for some help. 

 

“Noel wait!” Misha cried, sitting up fast and catching his attention with his finger over the button. 

 

“What?” 

 

The motion paired with the alcohol made his stomach wrench. His body twisted and suddenly he was puking right there in the dirt by his car. 

 

Noel walked closer, abandoning his phone as he did so. “I forgot you were drunk,” he sighed. “Are you okay?” 

 

Misha felt some softness in it, and it gave him some hope again. Even if for a moment. Maybe it didn’t have to be worse, even if he imagined it would be. Maybe he was seeing stars between his gags. 

 

“I’ll be fine,” he coughed as it came to an end.

 

“I’ve never seen this,” Noel knelt down a bit to look into his eyes. “How much did you drink ?”

 

Misha felt a need to lie, if only to keep the glue together as it all fell apart. “Not too much, I just wanted something other than champagne… I’m sorry.” 

 

“Then why are you like this?” 

 

“I, uh, I was not eating…that is why….” 

 

“Are you sure?” Noel asked. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Okay….” Noel said, choosing to trust he knew more about alcohol than him, unsure why he’d lie over this, even if he couldn’t be sure he would be honest about it all. 

 

If only Misha thought how much worse that might just make it all if he ever found out. Even sober, he lacked certain understanding, even if he tried to. Even if he cared. And drunk Misha? Was only worried about making it through this moment with him. Scared either way it could be one of the last based on how things were. 

 

Risks and rewards, right? 

 

Noel went back for his phone and continued dialing. “Go up into our apartment.” 

 

“What are you-” 

 

“It’s late, It’s not too crazy to think I accidentally hit the pole,” Noel explained. “But you’ll get checked for the alcohol in your system.” 

 

“I can’t let you do that-” 

 

“I can’t let you get taken away from me….” Noel interrupted him with a heavy heart. His eyes teared for a second, locked in Misha’s, and spoke again after a second. “You don’t want that….right?” 

 

“No,” Misha promised as he sat up. “I don’t want that, but I don’t want you to get hurt either….”

 

“We can’t always have it both ways…..” 

 

The weight of those words…the weight of the double meaning….the weight of it all. 

 

His gut twisted again as Noel begged him to leave as the phone in his ear rang. Misha was forced to comply, and go back up to their apartment alone. 

 

The weight of that, too, was crushing. 

 

Suddenly there was a hole in him again that needed to be filled. And without the option to drink, he found another vice. He found a hole to be filled this time, not with liquor, but food. 

 

At least that vice couldn’t hurt Noel.

Notes:

Wow :((( This one's sad

Wow if you didn't catch the hint of this car crash happening, I'm sure you at least see where THIS end is going. Even if the first hint was on accident lol.

My poor babies.

Also oof, car crash....twice in this already? Yeah, still blaming you for that, but oooo is it gonna make this yummier when the comparisons between them trigger our lil poetic one /lh /evilauthor

I miss you guys so much, I wish I could just be here the whole time :(

Rip to Misha's car which I almost named "the money mobile" but was like "this is ANGST sierra" and didn't.

Sorry for the waist in between these tho, I feel so bad about it, I feel bad about EVERYTHING. I think I'm slowly gonna become more and more crazy until I make everyone hate me. I'm broken I think. It's scary.

Being here somehow helps though so, thanks for letting me be apart of it and making it mean something nice <33

I'll see you next time

Chapter 9: I Remind You Of The Days You Poured Your Heart Into.....

Summary:

The next morning is met with exhaustion, pain, and a panic attack from the one who was yet to truly break...until now.

Notes:

Hello everyone!!

This one is sorta short but it works that way sooooo, not sorry for it (sorta am tho lmao, sorry, imma people pleaser)

1.9k everyone <333

I feel bad when I don't have much to say :(( I'm procrastinating school work rn which I really shouldn't and sleeps just been weird.

Congrats all my Uk people on finally getting a RTC premiere!! Wishing I could be there for it with you!!

TW// SH, Blood, Vomit, Drinking, Panic Attack, Throwing glass, and allllll the mess you can imagine

Chap title from Explosions by Ellie Goulding. Oldie but a goodie. :)

Help I'm so evil I'm so sorry guysssss

Enjoy tho!!!

Noel went to bed without Misha again that night. Beyond the crying, just….flustered. Feeling like everything was always wrong. Feeling angry at the world, and betrayed by himself, and just annoyed that Misha went and did it all anyway. They didn’t need this. 

 

When he woke up to the sound of Misha puking though and between the sleep and the care he still always had in him, he focused on being kind and gentle, juxtaposed to the violent sounds Misha was making in their bathroom. 

 

“Mish?” Noel rubbed his eyes as he made it to the bathroom door, opening it, and standing in the door jam as he continued to wake up and process what being awake right now meant. 

 

Misha’s retching was too consistent to speak, and Noel’s chest panged for him as he walked in. 

 

“Oh, Mish,” Noel said as he placed a gentle hand on his back. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

 

Misha could only half-process what Noel was saying between all of his focus going towards the damn toilet bowl, but he knew that was never an option. Waking Noel up? After everything he did? When their was really nothing Noel could do?

 

When Misha was the one who shoved his fingers down his throat in the first place?

 

Noel used to be a deep sleeper. He’d have to note that if he ever decided to binge all his troubles away again like he had last night. Judging by how it made him feel though, from the moment it started to now? He probably would. Unless there was some miracle that fixed this all. Sadly, he had his miracle. There was no fix. At least not an easy one to erase this like it never happened. He’d always know it did and it’d be more than a memory. 

 

Misha finally stopped and rested his head sideways on his sprawled out arm. “I couldn’t just wake you up….” 

 

“You could have.” 

 

“No, I couldn’t have.” 

 

“Yes, you could.” 

 

Misha sighed heavily. Were they really arguing about that? There went the moments of peace…. 

 

His head throbbed. His throat ached. And even though he spent the whole rest of the night alone drowning his sorrows, he felt like he needed more time away. Fuck. Was he the bad guy for that? If he wasn’t, he was still the bad guy for other things. 

 

“I just am hungover.” 

 

“Still?” Noel’s voice cut through. 

 

“Yeah!” Misha cut back. “A little sympathy would be nice!” 

 

Noel rolled his eyes as he moved to help the boy up from where he kneeled on the cold tiles. He got him up, watching as Misha wiped his mouth, and brought him over to the sink nearby. He didn’t wait beside him though, just went into their room to go and turn his alarm off while Misha was left on his own. 

 

He brushed his teeth, but even when his mouth felt clean, something felt off. Metallic and tainted. And Noel felt detached as ever, in a way of annoyance and not hurt. There would be no good morning kiss, fresh mouth or not, and he’d just deal with it.

 

When he walked out of the bathroom, he threw his shirt over his head, sure it had sweat if not vomit on it. Then he went to get another shirt, something simple from his drawer of tee shirts. Then he saw Noel was just….standing in the doorway of their room. 

 

“Noel, what is it now?” Misha asked, coming up behind him. 

 

“It’s just…it’s all still there….” Noel frowned as he looked out on the night they’d shared. 

“What’s here- oh,” Misha stopped, looking over him to see the mess.  

 

Misha knew why it wasn’t cleaned up. But probably in Noel’s eyes, there was no excuse. Noel felt himself getting emotional at it all. His sharp breathing was a sign of his emotions threatening to take away his tough facade. 

 

“I can clean it up,” Misha offered. 

 

“No,” Noel held his arm out to stop him from scooting through the door frame and him. “It’s okay.” 

 

“Clearly it’s not.” 

 

“Well, yeah, clearly it’s gonna do something!” Noel exclaimed, biting his lip to make his anger subside more and his tone even out. “Last night was a lot, and I did so much for you-” 

 

“Are you kidding me, I did a lot for you too, this is proof of it!” 

 

“Yeah, this is proof of you not even understanding the problem!” Noel huffed as he stepped out into it more. “Also, I think me getting written up for reckless driving goes beyond you buying some food and drinks.” 

 

“I thought you liked those things Noel!” Misha cried out with frustration. 

 

“No!” Noel cried back. “I don’t like anything now! You ruined everything for me !” 

 

A beat of silence fell through the room that could have stopped one of their broken hearts in an instant. 

 

“I’m….” Misha felt the weight in his throat now too as he tried to speak. 

 

He ruined things for Noel. Things he loved. Things he lived for. Things he’s loved since he knew him. He took all of those things, and because they weren’t his favorite, had to bash them. And now they weren’t just bashed, they were broken. He broke them. He broke Noel. He broke…well… everything. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Misha pushed out as he just started sobbing uncontrollably. 

 

Noel’s whole body stiffened at the sight. 

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t know how to fix this, I fucked it all up and I can’t fix it!” Misha cried as he stepped over to the coffee table. 

 

He grabbed the heart box, no longer full of chocolate strawberries and threw that across the room. Then he knocked over the candles he had on the table, of course, no longer lit. And then he picked up the bottle of champagne he had not touched yet. 

 

“I can’t fucking fix this!” Misha continued to sob as his whole body panicked. “Tell me how to fucking fix it!” 

 

With the words, and his grip tight enough on the neck of the bottle tight enough to hurt his fingers, he let go of it. He threw it down on the ground, on the nice carpets of their apartment, and watched the glass and liquids shatter out before him like it was just one more broken thing he could never fix. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Misha’s sobs bubbled as he squeezed his hands into his eyes to stop the tears and sank to the floor next to the mess. “I’m so fucking sorry….” 

 

Noel’s body somehow tensed even more as he watched it, unmoving, unable to do anything but open his eyes in shock. Maybe even horror. Maybe Misha broke him in a way, but he broke him right back….

 

He wasn’t trying to. He didn’t ask for any of this. If the truth hurt well….then maybe Misha should have never told him the truth about how he felt at all. Noel wanted to say he didn’t care, but instantly he was outside of his body, praying for Misha to be okay. Willing to suffer in silence forever if it made it true. 

 

He swallowed heavily. “Misha-” 

 

“No!” Misha sobbed. “I can’t.”

 

“Yes you can,” Noel walked over, trying to help pick him up. “Let me help you!” 

 

“For what?!” Misha yelled. “To continue this mess?! We can’t- I can’t-” 

 

Noel just sunk down to be with him, holding on his arm the same. He said he’d stay until he was better. Needing it. But what if he never did? What if this like…killed them both somehow? It sounded crazy, but every second felt like an eternity. Like hell. 

 

He would just sit it out with him though. He had nothing else to do. Nothing else he had his own strength to do at least. This was apparently killing them both. And getting out wouldn’t solve it, but they still had to. Life had to go on. At least for a little more. 

 

Eventually, Misha was grounded, yet exhausted. 

 

“”I’m sorry-” 

 

“No.” Noel told him. “I just want you to be okay.” 

 

The words started a whole new faucet of tears down Misha’s face as he brokenly explained, “I just want that for you.” 

 

Noel’s whole chest hurt as he tried to hold in his own tears. He wasn’t brave, or strong, or really anything more than the mess Misha was right now. But he couldn’t be in this moment. Not if he cared about Misha. And dammit, he still did. Probably always would. 

 

“I am okay….” Noel told him. 

 

Misha gave him a look that he didn’t believe him. 

 

“I promise, I’ll work on it,” Noel said. “And right now, I’m okay. As long as you are.” 

 

“Only as long as you are, poet.” 

 

“Then we're fine,” Noel lied to him. “Because I'm okay now.” 

 

Misha wasn’t sure he believed it, but it was so much easier on his system right then to just lie to himself and say he did. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and just took it. If only to save himself, selfishly, and with the only energy he had left that didn’t involve throwing his head against a brick wall until it was all just over. 

 

“I’ll clean… this up,” Noel motioned to the mess beside them. “Why don’t you go take a shower?” 

 

“I don’t want a shower…” Misha felt like a petulant child as he curled in on himself and mumbled his stance. 

 

“Well, what do you want?” 

 

“I wanna help,” Misha explained. “Not be so useless….. I mean why should you clean it up when it hurts you to even see it? How is that fair?” 

 

It wasn’t. But nothing was anymore. Was it?

 

“Okay,” Noel sighed as he got up. He wouldn’t argue with him. Just watch the boy as he did so, to make sure he wouldn’t fall apart any further due to him. 

 

Noel went into the kitchen and picked up a kitchen towel. He used it to blot up all the champagne from the carpet he could, still aware of a damp circle on the rug from where he just couldn’t get with one towel. Then he used the towel to collect the pieces of glass. They were tinted green and sharp, but he worked meticulously to gather them all. 

 

“I’m going to go take this glass out to the dumpsters,” Noel explained at the door while he watched Misha clean their dinner plates at the sink.

 

Misha met his eyes, sadness on his own. “Okay….” 

 

He didn’t even question why he was going out. Maybe it was fresh air. Maybe it was a break. Either way, Noel never questioned the need himself as he went down their steps and out the door. 

 

He found the dumpster and moved to throw the pieces in it, some stuck into the towel where they were sharp. He went to pick one out, and it pricked him. 

 

“Fuck….” his knee-jerk reaction was to lick the blood from the pad of his finger. 

 

But then he thought about something. Something else he could use the glass for. Still bloody, no doubt, but more purposeful. 

 

He tested it, and while he’d love to say it was a mistake, the action, paired with the feeling it gave him, had him pocketing the glass for later like it was priceless. 

 

Misha wouldn’t notice. So he couldn’t blame himself. And Noel could get the pain he deserved from it without harming anyone else ever again like he had this morning.

Notes:

Who ordered the Broken boys <333

They're like both v broken now :(( I'm sorry

I think it's realistic that Misha would snap under the pressures and the pain he feels through him. Plus the guilt of "causing it"

What's your thoughts on Misha? Noel? The whole situation?! I GOTTA KNOW!!

I hope I'm doing this all justice, that's always my goal <333

Ty for 40 kudos btw!! and all the love I get from you guys!!! i love you so much too!!

See you soon!! :)

Chapter 10: How Did You Hear The Drop of My Tear......

Summary:

Noel writes a poem to try and cope, but it doesn't fix things, only worries Misha.

Notes:

Hello! It's moi :) That's Noel french core

S/o to my friends who live in France if you exist. And for my good friend in Paris rn who will probs read this when they're back!

I was up for like 24 hours straight. Whoa. Sleep issues say whattttt? i wish I was joking but I will laugh so I don't cry.

I napped a lil so I'm here and ofc I wrote this! :D 2.1k of something I hope you like! or 2.1k of putting Nisha in a blender. Whatever you prefer

I wanna say ty to everyone who says I am connecting so well with the emotions, writing the story so real, or just doing it well in general. I have *some* connections of course, but this isn't an autobiography so it's always a huge compliment to here that. Makes me feel like I can do something right in this world. Write :) (pun for bonus points)

TW's here // Mentions of other past triggers like car accident, parental abandonment, drinking, EDs, and bad mental healths. SH attempt (V, v undetailed) also included.

I hope everyone is safe ofc as always <33 if this will make you unsafe then go awayyyyy /with love ofc lmao

Can anyone believe we're also on chap 10?! crazy. Too far and too not far at the same time for me.

The title song is from "Box around the Sun" by Misterwives :)

AND omg you guys are gonna die guess who FINALLY (sorta) wrote poetry in a fic?!?!?!?!? I've been avoiding it for SO long, but I couldn't and didn't want to this time, even if I'm terrified of it. I settled on "Rewriting" something?? Sorta. I took the lyrics from the song "For Sky" by Lilyisthatyou because I think that's so fitting and good, and rewrote half to keep the same feel but have it apply to this.

IF IT'S TRASH YOU CAN ONLY HALF BLAME ME. Although if the whole thing is and not just the poem, I suppose you can overwhelmingly blame me lmao

Pls enjoy instead tho if possible :D /lh

Noel felt like he was going through the motions again. It was depressive. It was weighing him down, even as he got lighter and lighter each day as he pushed food away he couldn’t stomach. There were holes in him from things that were missing. There were scars on him from things he tried to find in the acts of making them. But they weren’t art. They had no value. He had no value.

 

It was indisputable to him now. Half of his confidence came from the moment he realized someone could love him. Came from being loved by Misha. It was proof. A tangible person he could tangle up in. Now the tangle just felt like a knot that kept him there without choice. Misha’s choice. 

 

Because he was hurting him. And yeah, Misha hurt him. But no matter what Misha said about causing it. Noel knew he did. He had to be the problem and push him to it. None of it would have happened if he wasn’t Noel. 

 

Misha wouldn’t be miserable without Noel. Misha wouldn’t still be in Uranium if Noel didn’t wanna go to college here first. Misha wouldn’t have crashed his fucking car. Sobbed. Suffer.

 

The crash shook Noel more than he wanted to admit. When he had to play the role of the driver, alone and in the sparkling light that came down on it like some joke of a spotlight he saw a similarity he hated. 

 

It was like when he was a kid again. When his dad crashed his car and left. Straight down to a pole at the end of the front bumper. Cruel. A sign to Noel maybe this was what it took to leave him. That Misha was just following the steps of his dad, delayed. 

 

It was a bit traumatizing to relieve, but he was able to pass it off with the authorities as being shook by the crash. And once he came back up? Well, he didn’t come back up until he was sure he could hide it. Really hide it. There was no fucking it up. 

 

Seeing Misha break again? 

 

He’d rather die. 

 

Even with his own pain and annoyance and anger, it was something about it, something about the love he had reacting to it that made his blood so cold he wanted to jump out of his skin. He couldn’t take it. He knew Misha probably felt the same. But if he couldn’t fix it, he'd make it fixed for one of them. As much as he could. 

 

But it had to have some outlet, right? Luckily Noel still had one of those. His poetry. He hadn’t written nearly as much poetry as he promised he would after coming back to life.

 

His poetry was tragic, posed against landscapes of parisian nights or silk bed sheets. Today however the place felt like a black hole. And the meanings felt more therapeutic than for the love of penning the piece.

“I know that it’s painful 

I know you’re in pain 

But watching you carry the blame?

Still feel alone though we’re sharing a space

 

I know i'm a handful 

I don’t know how to change

I know that I hurt you, that look on your face

Why’s it your burden to carry my weight?”

By the end of the simple words, he found that weight was not in the amount of words, but how they burned your eyes with tears. Tears did indeed fall. Some on the paper, some not. He swiped the page, some ink smudging, and then from his face. He felt so guilty he could be sick, but the idea of Misha seeing that also made him feel the same and he didn’t know how to exist anymore. 

 

Did it help him cope? It got words off his chest, but it didn’t change them. So, no. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe speaking to the void was never meant to be for real problems. 

 

But who could he talk to that wouldn't hurt?! 

 

He felt more tears and he bit his tongue to try and stop them before Misha ended up coming back into their bedroom. Things were motiony, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t still better from the moment of the breakdown. Misha and him talked. Misha and him sat together, slept beside each other, and tried to show the love they had. It was on top of everything else he buried underneath. No idea about if something was under Misha’s sad smiles too or if it was more pity. 

 

He wanted to be angry at the pity, saying he was the one who caused the need for it. But what did it do? And what did it change? Noel existed, that was always gonna be what it led back to, beyond any word he did or didn’t say to his face when it all started. 

 

Noel got up, leaving the poetry book on his desk with the back of the pen tucked into the page he was at. He didn’t know if he’d ever add to it, it seemed right how it was. Two stanzas apart like two lovers apart. But he still noted it. An old habit that would die a lot harder than he would. 

 

He went to the bathroom, closing that door and locking it tight. There was only one real reason he needed that level of privacy where he even pulled on the knob to assure it wouldn’t open on accident. And it wasn’t a good one. 

 

Meanwhile, Misha walked into their room, just after Noel worried he could have. He saw the locked door and clenched his teeth. He couldn’t help but wonder every time if Noel was actually using the bathroom for a purpose, or avoiding him in it. 

 

He flopped down on their bed and sighed, the side of his face pressed to cold sheets that hadn’t been touched since the early morning. They smelled like Noel’s shampoo sometimes. Today wasn’t one of those days and he noted it sadly as he stood up from it. 

 

He saw the door was still locked when he looked around, then looked to the desk where he assumed Noel had been. There weren’t many things to do in their room. They had a bed, a dresser, and a small vintage roll top desk Noel fell in love with at some antique mall and Misha had surprised him with their move that day. 

 

He missed times like that. He took them for granted. He’d do anything to have them back. 

 

He moved over to the desk, hands on the old wood that Noel always kept polished so it wouldn’t rot in the harsh winters of Saskatchewan. It was beautiful objectively, but nobody saw that beauty like Noel did. 

 

Misha realized in that observation, that wasn’t a curse on him, that was a gift to experience. A unique thing that allowed him to watch the boy he loved express happiness after so long without. The blocks that built the boy up. The blocks Misha knocked down. 

 

Misha didn’t wanna cry, he was sure Noel would come back and blame himself for it. But he couldn’t help but keep his focus on it, even with the risks. 

 

The Ukrainian boy saw the poetry book on the top of the desk, one of Noel’s favorite things, patented leather red on the front of it like he was some old-school gloriet. He also had a different poetry book he worked a lot in during his college poetry class and a bit beyond too, and a few books full of Monique stories. He liked to write by hand. His handwriting was beautiful, forced to be from the hours he practiced to have a cursive that would make others envy. 

 

He liked to share his poetry with Misha, so he assumed it was okay to look at what he wrote. Promised even if he didn’t like it to appreciate it. But Noel’s poems? They were always weak spots for him. He loved them. His boy of words. He was beautiful inside and out. 

 

Then Misha opened the book and read the latest entry. 

 

And his insides almost fell out. He knew things weren’t perfect but he could be sick. Noel wasn’t even hating on him. He wished he would. But no. All of the hatred was towards himself. And yeah, it was Misha’s fault. The poems didn’t taste this sour before. And while it was beautifully written, he knew it wasn’t fiction.

 

He needed to confront Noel. This…this wasn’t healthy. The pen to the page was the diagnosis he needed to know this wasn’t something he could fix alone. And maybe that's why he’d failed to. 

 

He could hear the shower starting, and so instead of knocking over the noise, Misha went for the emergency key at the top of the door. He popped it in the hole and forced the door open.

 

Noel was so scared he jumped, having what was in his hands fly in the air and land at Misha’s feet. 

 

A razor blade. 

 

Misha bent down as Noel turned, towel on his waist to watch in horror as Misha picked it up. No escaping what it was, just the evidence of it or it’s ‘freinds’ ever being used on his thighs. 

 

“Wh-what’s this?” Misha frowned, not accusing but perhaps concerned. 

 

Noel’s whole face heated with adrenaline and a hidden panic. His heart beat faster as he forced words out. “I was just going to change the blade on the razor….” 

 

Misha looked from Noel- who was dry and hadn’t gotten into the shower yet. Then the blade, seemingly perfectly clean and intact, just as dry as the boy he could now see was probably just preparing to hop in the shower. 

 

He handed it back to him and watching Misha’s shoulder’s drop in a lack of tension was a gift to Noel as he took it back. He trusted him. 

 

But also…..

 

He trusted him. 

 

And it wasn’t like he was actually being honest. Just self-preserving. 

 

“How did you get in here?” Noel swallowed as he placed the razor on the sink’s edge for now. 

 

“Can we talk?” Misha simply skipped past it.

 

“Right now?” Noel pointed to the shower, reminding him he was about to get in (even if it was only ever a cover up to begin with). 

 

“Please?” 

 

Noel could never refuse that tone, so he moved to turn the shower off and sat on the edge of the tub. “Talk.” 

 

Misha sighed and walked over to sit next to him. Nobody moved away or flinched. It was nice, but this still wasn’t nice at it’s core. It was concern for something awful. 

 

“I’m worried about you…..” 

 

Noel’s brow popped. “Still?”

 

Misha nodded. “I thought maybe after everything hit it’s breakin point, it’d all get better…thought it was….. But i saw what you just wrote-” 

 

“You went in my poetry book?” 

 

Misha was taken back by the abrupt cut off and the tone that he used. 

 

“Yeah?” Misha didn’t see the problem. “You’ve always let me.” 

 

Noel was mad, but he knew if he had to explain why, it’d be bad. Simply explaining he didn’t want him to know he was miserable but it was true was a moot point. He just looked down and hoped they could shake this sooner than later. 

 

He should have never written it. 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“No,” Misha shook his head. “Please, no, I’m not mad you wrote it, I want you to write if you want to.” 

 

“You’re not upset I wrote it, you’re just upset I feel it?” As if that was better. 

 

“No!” He quickly assured again that these assumptions weren’t true. “I never said that!” 

 

“I-” Noel opened and shut his mouth quickly before mumbling out, “sorry….”

 

“I don’t want you to be sorry, and I don’t want you to not write, I’m just concerned about what you wrote,” Misha admitted. “Scared if that’s really how you feel, writing it down and me telling you I’m sorry won’t ever be enough to fix it.” 

 

“I-I know you’re sorry Misha….” Noel kept looking down. 

 

“That doesn’t mean ti fixes everything.” 

 

“Well what does?” Noel scoffed, looking back up at his face. 

 

And when he saw the way Misha’s face twisted? Tried to find the words to say it? He knew what he meant. 

 

“Please don’t say therapy.” 

 

“Please just- don’t shut it down,” Misha said. “Can’t you just try it once?”

 

Misha’s eyes pleaded as he grabbed Noel’s hand. The hand holding felt nice, but Noel knew the hand he was holding was also pleading with him. And he couldn’t ignore it. 

 

“ Please?” Misha begged him. “For me?” 

 

Noel had wished for this to be over as soon as possible. Agreed to not hurt Misha more. The boy needed to hear a yes. 

 

So he said yes. Even if he wasn’t happy about saying it.

Notes:

Noel's not happy :( but was he at the start of the chapter either? Nope.

Maybe therapy will help. Who knows. Nothing else has, right?

What did you think of it? Them? What do you think happens next? What are you scared of? Tell me if you have the time :)

Always remember when I says stuff like that, nobody is forced to ever comment or do ANYTHING, but I appreciate them and wanna let people know it's a safe space where I actively want them. Anxiety is hard, so I try and combat it for you if you want to get over it and do so!! I'm nicer than my writing is lmaooo, I swear I'm not evil really

Can you guys believe I also did some school work? :O iconic. Woke up at like 2 and did that, this, and some other stuff I needed. Go me??

Also been working on planning some future fics :D

I have almost fully outlined a future fic I wanna do in October that's inspired by Final Destination x RTC, get out of my comfort box, write something I think we've all at least associated in our brains once?

Idk if I wanna pre-write that and post the ten chaps ten days in a row or take ALL of Oct to try and do them. I know I don't have to pick now, but opinions are always welcome.

The next multichap(s) I'm thinking of are some fun ones too. After this I'd like to experiment with a diff kind of body swapping and write Nisha swapping bodies. I also wanna delve more into Amnesia than I did in my one oneshot cuz I'm a sucker for that. And some other ideas too, some more dark than the two I mentioned. <33

Lmk anything though, as said, I don't bite, I just hurt the sillies :)

I love you guys!! Wish me luck doing other stuff, I should def try a lil more school even I don't wanna and just other life stuff.

Hope you're all as okay as you can be, and if not, I send EXTRA love <33

See you soon! Here or somewhere else, wherever you're willing to grace me with your presence, I'm the lucky one for any of it!! BYEEE!!

Chapter 11: Diagnose me how you like, the worse I get the more I hide......

Summary:

Misha turns to his vices. Noel's vague in his intentions. But things seem okay to the other. Are they okay inside themselves? And which matters more to them anyway?

Notes:

Hello people who seek pain

There's pain for you today!!

But also some small treats of not-pain :D You're welcome!!

It's sad when you gotta beg for "not pain" and not just like...happiness lmaoo. Maybbbeee one day.

TW// Cigarettes, binging, and beer. References to past chapter issues too.

Stay safe as always, but tbh, if you made it here? This chap will be a breeze. <33

Rice is supposed to make you feel better but I ate some and now I don't feel good wtf rice.

Word count is 2.1k and I'm not apologizing, I think this fic is just meant to be tiny chapters and It's grown on me!!

Chapter title is from the song Jennifer's Body by Julia Wolf. This new album guys. THIS NEW ALBUM. /pos

Enjoy this fic as much as I'm enjoying that album, yo :)

Add up the vices. And what do you really get? Misha didn’t feel any happier. And he was tripled up between his drinking, binging, and now, returning to smoking. 

 

He quit because it was expensive. But right now it felt more expensive to not smoke. Eating all the food wasn’t cheap. Replacing it without Noel catching on would also be a whole mess of finances and lies on top of it all. 

 

All he did to restart smoking was buy a pack at the 7-11, and smoke them. 

 

Noel only said one thing. “Are you smoking again?”

 

Misha simply responded that he was. Nothing less and nothing more in between a puff he was taking, sitting by their bedroom window. 

 

Noel nodded, slow and careful. Not judging. He was not allowed to judge with all his French Romanticism and own younger habits that he took up happily alongside him. If anything, he was jealous. Craved it himself. Not for the nicotine as much as craving more escapes. 

 

Anything could be an escape, especially when none of them really accomplished anything. It was a word. A wish, paired with a mindset. A hopeless pit he’d never climb out, even when he did eventually steal one of Misha’s smokes the next day. 

 

Misha noticed. But he couldn’t judge either. All the past, present, and the possible future? It tasted gross, but it smelled like youth. Better times. Fresh air he basked in when he walked out of his basement to smoke them at any time of night or day.

 

Even thinking of sharing one with Noel in his old car. Blowing smoke, laughing, and stealing nicotine laced kisses whenever they could in between them. 

 

He looked down at the bag in the passenger seat of Noel’s car, fresh from the gas station. His car was still being fixed. Using Noel’s car was normal now. The only difference since the start of the week was it was a new day. Right down to the contents of his plastic bag. 

 

A pack of smokes. A pack of beer. Some bags of chips. Energy drinks. And a pack of mints to pop between things to make it seem like he never ate, and he certainly never threw up. 

 

He scrunched the top of the bag so you couldn’t see inside of it. But he counted his vices, and hid them for a reason. Shame. But the kind that he needed. He was at a deadend. And all he needed to focus on now, beyond the pit feeling in his stomach, was making sure he didn’t pull up to his home and have Noel peak into the bag with a comment of how it’s become some ‘habit’.

 

It was. But it was more. It was how he coped with what was happening. It’s how he survived it. Ironically considering it was mostly things that could kill you. Same exact brand of beer that led his car into a pole too. 

 

That pole was also still not fixed. He drove past it like a memory everyday. He flinched at it. He wished he was drunk enough to not remember, but he did. And he knew Noel did too. How could he not?

 

He wished he never did that. Never started it all back up. Stayed home and been a better, stronger person. It’s not who he was. But he could have tried to be. For Noel’s sake. 

 

Now, things were better. Or he thought they were. At least a little. And he? He was worse than ever. 

 

Noel wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t crying every day. Misha tried to take note of the things that made him feel better. He wouldn’t do a lot of things he used to. Claimed it wasn’t Misha’s fault even though they both knew it was- that Noel said as much once in the heat of the moment. 

 

Noel liked to watch true crime with Misha. Noel liked to go pick up pastries at the Blackwood cafe and eat them in the kitchen when the sun was out and hit just right. Noel liked to wear one of Misha’s old hoodies. Noel liked to take longer showers. 

 

Misha encouraged every single one of those, and promised he’d never discourage anything ever again unless it hurt him. 

 

Although, there was a grey area. Because they’d discussed therapy. And Noel was not happy with having to agree to it. 

 

In Misha’s eyes it didn’t hurt. Only helped him if he could go and gain a better idea of what was truly causing this pain to still thrive inside of him. But to Noel, it was a painful declaration he was broken and had to put all this work he didn’t want in talking to some stranger.

 

Misha took the bag and walked up into the house. His heart fell into his stomach as he saw the lights in the house were still off. 

 

Noel should have been home. 

 

Suddenly, he was thinking Noel left him. Or worse. In so many different ways. 

 

Then he threw the bag down and double checked his phone only to be reminded of something he’d forgotten was today. Was new to the schedule of their lives. But then again, life was new in every way now it seemed too. 

 

Tainted. His fault. Miserable.

 

Noel was going to therapy after work. His first appointment. Misha had offered to go with him the first time, even if he stayed in the lobby or the car. But Noel was insistent. For some reason, even with all of his guilt, Misha didn’t think it was because he did anything wrong, so he didn’t overthink it. Didn’t even remember it was going to be on Wednesdays. 

 

For how long? Until it was all fixed. 

 

But he wasn’t dumb. He knew it involved him too. Knew he was a selfish coward when he turned to his bag instead and didn’t do his part in it. 

 

He opened everything at once. Cigarettes were lit, beer top was popped and the chip bags were faced open to him as he sat in the kitchen. 

 

It kept going like that as he tried to zone out. It was one of the few things he could do mentally. And one of the few times the stress wasn’t so loud he couldn’t manage it. 

 

He was so stuck in there that he didn’t even notice the motions he was making. The second cigarette. The second bag of chips. The third beer. 

 

Or the door of their apartment opening up followed by Noel walking in with a frown on his face. 

 

“Are you drunk?” Noel’s voice cut through to him like nothing else had that evening. 

 

“W…what?” His voice came back gradually, just like his brain cleared the clouds. “I’m-” he quickly darted to look around at the other things and make sure he was safe. 

 

Two cigarettes wasn’t crazy, and the box was closed enough that Noel had no idea what or when he smoked some of them. And the fist bag of chips was already crumbled up and tossed. The beer was the real crime. 

 

“Is that your dinner?” Noel’s brows folded as he pointed at the half-empty chip bag. 

 

Misha wasn’t sure how to respond when he did indeed feel judged now. “....no?” 

 

“Well then, what’s for dinner?” Noel asked him, wide eyes questioning the holes in his logic as he took off his jacket. 

 

Misha’s eyes darted around again. He fucked up. It’d be one thing to not make dinner by the time Noel went home, but the loving him? Would have done it in a heartbeat. His favorite too, just to show how proud he was of him trying this. 

 

He loved him still, God, he swore, but he didn’t love himself. And loving others when you didn’t love yourself was so much harder than he remembered.

 

The fact he was now eating in front of him- chips or not- was also rude. He cringed. It wasn’t about food to him though, so he didn’t even connect it. Noel wouldn’t get it. 

 

He had to think fast. “Wait!” 

 

“What?” Noel froze, jacket half-off.

 

“Don’t take off your jacket.” Misha moved to get up out of his chair and forced a smile in front of his boyfriend, the other smelling the alcohol and nacho cheese mixed with nicotine like a wave as he did. “We will go out and get something nice. My treat.” 

 

Noel only looked more offended, The urge Misha had to grab his hands- something he could do during the rest of the week easily- was gone with fear for it. 

 

“Isn’t it bad enough you drove drunk and almost died once?” Noel asked him, actively pulling his jacket off fully now to make a point. Attitude in the motion. “Besides, aren’t you full?” 

 

“No.” Misha lied. “Aren’t you hungry?”

 

“No.” Noel also lied. 

 

“But-” 

 

“It’s whatever Misha…..” Noel sighed, with the weight of something that wasn’t really whatever. But it was small in the scheme of things nowadays. 

 

Noel went to go into their room when Misha stopped him by the elbow.

 

“Well, wait, how was therapy?”

 

“Fine.” Noel didn’t meet his eyes. 

 

“Fine?” 

 

“Fine.” Noel repeated. “Just. Fine.” 

 

Misha swallowed, feeling small and guilty in front of him as his words bit more and more chunks out of his heart. Noel noticed though, and even though he was still frustrated, addressed it. 

 

“It's not your fault I’m upset, I guess….” Noel sighed, lip bitten with guilt. “I just…. I didn’t wanna go, and I certainly don’t wanna spend more time on it. It’s almost seven and I’m just tired.” 

 

Misha nodded, understanding. Some bites were just necessary, he supposed. Like breaking eggs to make a cake. He’d survive from this. This wasn’t the problem, either with himself or Noel. 

 

“I get it.” 

 

“Do you?” Noel looked up, bottom lip jutted enough that Misha knew he truly did feel a bit of guilt in his whirlwind of exhausted emotions.

 

“Yes,” Misha told him. “Promise.” 

 

“Okay……” 

 

There was a beat of silence. Sort of awkward, but also sort of….cleansing. 

 

“I think I wanna curl up in bed and just watch a docu-series or something,” Noel admitted after a moment. “You wanna join me?” 

 

The small smile on Noel at the suggestion made Misha’s heart leap. “ Yes!”

 

Noel smiled even wider. “Good,” He said. “I’m gonna get changed into something softer than these work clothes.” 

 

“Oh, here!” Misha ran out of the room. 

 

Noel watched him disappear and come back in a flash. Excited about something. A glimpse of something nice again. Something familiar yet far. Something he’d paint the walls of his mind with if he could. 

 

Misha held out something gray and folded. “I washed this for you this morning,” he sounded so proud of himself as he handed it over. 

 

Noel took it, feeling how soft it was and how it smelled of dryer sheets now. The old sweatshirt of Misha’s he loved to wear. So cozy. And now hand delivered by the boy like the first day he gave him it. Better than any dinner considering he was skipping most meals anyway. 

 

“Thank you,” his voice, small and genuine. 

 

It lit up something in Misha warmer than any alcoholic beverage. If he could live off this, he’d stay drunk forever on it. Not needing what he’d gone to today. 

 

He wasn’t really drunk, luckily he was very good at keeping his alcohol. A true vision of his culture, proud to proclaim it, even if stereotypical at times. He could have a nice night with Noel. Maybe. He could see it starting, and he didn’t wanna say it’d go away or he might cry. 

 

“Here,” He pushed past the worries and moved his hands up to Noel’s work shirt, unbuttoning it quickly for him. 

 

Noel let him. And once again, it felt like something stupid he didn’t know he could miss. But did. 

 

When it was all off, he took it, throwing it on the back of the chair and allowing Noel to put the sweatshirt over his head. 

 

“How’s it look?” Noel asked. 

 

Misha’s heart exploded. “You look beautiful.” 

 

Noel’s eyes went through many emotions before he spoke again. “I…I just don’t wanna fight tonight.” 

 

Misha didn’t either. “Same.” 

 

“Good,” Noel grabbed his hands. “Let’s not.” 

 

Misha nodded. He could agree with that. He had enough of his own things. He didn’t need this on top of it. Didn’t want it. Ever. 

 

He could count his vices for hours, and yeah, they wouldn’t go away. Neither would the problems with Noel. Or the problems Noel had. But he could count how many people made him this happy when it was good. And it was always only one. 

 

His Noel.

And by some miracle he hadn’t completely destroyed that. Might even get it back fully one day. For now, he’d take moments like this and leave all his things on the table where he’d surely reach for them again, but never before he reached out to take Noel’s hand.

Notes:

Look at us, at the bottom together, reading another chapter of LIU :)

I'm still so happy to have you all here, I love you guys, and I'm sorry if I ever hurt any of you ever cuz you're the best <33

Was this chap the best? Idk. But even like this nisha are!!

SPEAKING OF BEING EXTREMELEY GAY HAPPY PRIDE MONTH GUYS <3 so loved and safe here I PROMSIE. Love all you, gays, they's and all the slays :D

Now what do we think the hoodie is? Just plain grey? Cassian's shit he had still? Soemthing from Ukraine? Or a cringey misha moment kind of sweatshirt? I chose not to write it in because I was not pairing "beautiful" with something like "Sawutism" /lh

Lmk what you think tho!!

As for the other question of what happens after? This is less of a hc and something I KNOW. Misha eventually realizes he didn't puke and goes to do that midway through a show. They're cute and snuggly sleepy tho for watching the docu episodes.

Noel? Noel says he needs a shower before sleep. As I stated here (and hopefully hurt you with) Misha thinks it's a good way he copes. But Noel doesn't even shower sometimes, it's an excuse for....ya know. Then after, he sees Misha fell asleep and when he's woken up by Noel coming back into their room, Noel offers to clean the kitchen and let him rest.

Noel does clean. But he also takes a beer and downs it. Maybe this boy has his own new vice too? :/

This (well some parts of it) will be explained or mentioned or implied later but you should and can know it now.

The REAL secret hiding in this chap though is still a secret ;) (see I'm still a lil evil)

Oh my boys.....

Lmk if you guys liked this one!! I love when you guys comment or just anything really. I love being here so so so much and you guys are a huge lovely part of it.

I had a long day of random internet stuff, going to an alumni day at the animal shelter, getting ice cream, hanging out with my pets, more closet organization, napping, dinner, breakfast before all that too ofc.

Then I had to do school work that was due at midnight. BIG YUCK. but I got it done. Four more weeks until I can have a break. I neeeeeed it.

Anyway, I'm okay now though, and I'm gonna take my pills and get water and something to stop the stupid weird feeling the rice gave me! Unless I'm, only sick cuz nisha is cute. That's real too.

LOVE YOU GUYS <333 see ya soon!! :)

Chapter 12: I Need An Exorcism, This Aint No Way Of Living......

Summary:

Another week, another therapy appointment on the calendar, Noel's dreading, and another disaster on the horizon.

Notes:

Hiiii

I wish I could say i'm excited to present this to you, but unless you want MORE pain, I'll only be thriving off your tears.

First things first, TRIGGR WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!! (if you don't want a spoiler and don't have any you can skip). I love you all soooo much, and I know a lot of you have faced some SA. It's a sad fact of life it happens, but the fact it's real, means it can happen in writing too. So TW for that, even though it's not super detailed or extreme. BE SAFE!!

Also drinking and the thought of SH

OKAY TW PART OVER. Idk how many I still have left here to read, but i'd rather nobody read than hurt someone. And some of you might find this therapeutic, or not an issue, or etc so!

WC is 1.3k which again, i think this fic thrives on smaller chaps, and this fits nicely and stuff so, I'm cool with it! (the real question is just double checking you guys are)

I did a lil homework today butttt the procrastions been bad. Yesterday I could barely even write my brain was so out there. But ofc I wrote this and I enjoyed it, so you're not getting rid of me, just sometimes my brain needs a night off <33

You guys are my favorites, tysm for being here always, I love you so much!!

And I love the boys too! Even though Misha isn't in this chapter and Noel's in Spain without the S :(

Noel being in pain is a theme, but then again, not THAT far off from poor canon noel. He should be alive. And if he can't be, you better believe those two are canon boyfriends forever in death land or I'll cry /hj

The title is from the song is from Day I Died by Alex Winston (almost forgot to put it in lmaoo, had to edit this for it)

Also why did I accidentally text my aunt pictures of Nisha by mistake, RIP me right? (Blaming Oliver lmaoooo)

See you at the bottom, and again, STAY SAFE my lovlies <3

Noel had a therapy appointment on the same day every week. It’d only been a few weeks of it, but the pattern was clear. 

 

So, in order to keep the pattern, Noel walked through the door. The door of the local bar. Right after work. No therapy. Not that he’d ever tell Misha that. 

 

After his first appointment, he swore he’d never return. Knew it by the time Misha had asked about the whole thing, but kept his mouth shut strategically. He’d rather be home mending things in a real way, but he had to be somewhere Misha wasn’t, and he was getting bored with sitting in his car. 

 

Today was a hard day, more anxiety and distance than he wanted. In his head? In real life? Didn’t matter. 

 

He could have a drink to relieve the stress. He knew Misha was a fan of it, and the few bits he’d taken in desperate moments had been at the very least like a jolt to his system. 

 

Maybe he’d even find someone to talk to. Something to do. He only needed to kill an hour after all. 

 

He walked inside the bar, having not been in it alone ever. Having not been in it in general for a good four years. It was a bit out of his comfort, just how aggressive and run down it seemed. But Monqiue would love it. And wasn’t it what he deserved? 

 

He didn’t hesitate to go right up to a seat at the bar, and with as much confidence he could muster, tried to order a drink. 

 

It was slow. And he was still ignored. And this town was still offended by a feminine man it seemed. 

 

His stupid fucking eyeliner was gonna cost him what he needed. Yeah, at this point, needed. Maybe he could find relief in a different way, he did have that piece of glass in his-

 

“Hey,” A man nodded at him from across the bar’s corner, only 2 seats away really. 

 

“Um, hi?” Noel asked, hands crossed in his lap, uncomfortable and expecting the worst. 

 

“What’s your drink of choice?” he asked.

 

“Why?” 

 

“Just answer me,” the other man smiled, a nervous laugh chasing it, like he thought Noel was amusing somehow, but also confusing. 

 

“Gin, usually.” Noel’s nervous hands began to fumble in his lap. 

 

The other man leaned slightly over in his stool and loudly called out to the bartender. “Hey, bartender!” He caught his attention just fine. “Two gins on my tab, stat!” he patted the bar's cold counter to emphasize it.

 

Noel jerked his head in time to see the bartender nod his head and move to get them. Whoever said straight privilege wasn’t real, or at least gender-confirming privilege, needed to take a look at this. 

 

Noel cleared his throat, trying not to sound too feminine in his reply to the man. “That’s really nice, but you don’t have to pay for it.” 

 

“I wanted to,” the other man said, grabbing the drink from the bartender before sliding one to Noel. “If that’s okay with you.” 

 

Noel didn’t see it as anything but a friendly gesture, so when he picked up the gin, he nodded thankfully. Then downed it all in one sip.

 

“Shit.” the man laughed again. “You must have needed that.” 

 

“Story of my life,” Noel mumbled, placing the glass down again. 

 

“Because you’re gay?” 

 

Noel’s expression fell, and the man panicked. “Oh, not that that’s bad, it’s just how Uranium can be sometimes, trust me, I know.” 

 

Noel squinted in the dim lights. “Wait, are you saying-” 

 

“That I’m gay?” He smirked. “Yeah, I just pass a lot better without your pretty eyeliner.” 

 

Pretty? Noel had only heard people ever insult the choice of makeup outside of the choir. And inside the choir if you counted Ocean deeming it ‘not judge friendly’ when they had competitions. He never thought he would hear it. Maybe it was flirting or crossing a line but it felt…nice.

 

“Why don’t I buy you another, and you can tell me all about it,” he offered, already waving for the bartender. 

 

Should he? Could he? His mind spun a bit at the idea. He couldn’t talk to the choir; the idea of them knowing they had real issues felt too harmful to involve them with. His mom knew, and was lovely, but didn’t get it the way someone his age might. Wouldn’t be unbiased for the sake of Noel just being a person. 

 

A person who wanted to hear what he had to say. 

 

“Are you sure you wanna pay to hear me talk about my problems?” Noel asked him as he stood up and walked around the corner. 

 

“Would I offer if not?” 

 

Noel saw that his smile seemed genuine, and didn’t feel bad as he got him another drink. If that didn’t hurt, this couldn’t either, right? Was he wrong to think he deserved it, at least from someone? 

 

“Actually,” he spoke, though when something crossed his mind. “It might be more helpful to talk about something that reminds me a bit less of… it.” 

 

“It?” The man sat next to him on the stool to his right, facing towards him with a short shivel of it. “Or…. him?”

 

Noel’s eyes widened, a bit worried he was so easily readable. Could Misha see it all? Did Misha know he wasn’t even here or-

 

“Relax,” The man said, tapping at Noel’s phone on the bar top. “Your lock screen popped up, I assumed it was his fault.” 

 

Noel flinched. “I never said it was his fault.” 

 

“Isn’t it?” The man’s brow rose. 

 

Noel dodged the question by downing the gin even faster than the first. 

 

After that, the booze kept coming. He didn’t have to worry about money missing, it wasn't his money, and yeah, he could feel bad about it, but he was exhausted from feeling bad. And the guy- Jared he had learned - wasn’t making him feel bad about it. A nice change. 

 

Even if he still felt a bit of guilt when he did end up talking about Misha between drinks, all the issues, all the things he had to say. The lockscreen image flashed in his head. They looked so happy then, how had he not noticed that was still glaring back at him all the time. Like, it wasn’t even him anymore. Or them…..

 

“Maybe this Misha guy just isn’t right for you….” Jared said, face to face with Noel. 

 

“No,” Noel scoffed, even when drunk, the idea was ridiuclous. “He’s my everything.” 

 

“Are you his?” 

 

Noel only hesitated a moment. “I was at some point, and if i’m not now, I wanna get back there.” 

“Why?” 

 

“Why, whaaat?” Noel attitude mixed with the liquor for an odd slurred tone. 

 

The other man smirked again, eyes begging for trust and attention as he spoke slowly. “Well, there’s just… other people who I’m sure could…ya know… make you feel a lot better.” 

 

Noel didn’t have time to question what that was supposed to mean when he felt the man’s hand on his thigh. 

 

“Wh-” 

 

“Shhh.” 

 

His hand only went higher. And higher. And higher until there was pressure over the fabric of his zipper and-

 

“What the fuck?!” Noel was more delayed than he’d have been sober, but he was loud. 

 

“Shhh!” he only said louder, looking around for people staring. “Come on!”

 

“No!” Noel screamed back, scrambling enough to grab his stuff that he almost lost his balance. “No! N-I-I have a…a…Misha. And I…I have to go.” 

 

Noel rushed out, feeling so dirty he could hardly stand himself. The pressure on his brain just as much as the memory on his groin. And as he stepped out into the dark of the Bar parking lot, and the world spun, it also blurred as tears began to stretch down his face and the panic set in with the realization of what had just happened to him. 

 

What, in his eyes, he let happen to him. 

Notes:

How is everyone? Pls say safe <3333

I would hate myself if anyone ever got hurt because I missed something. But I know some people don't like spoilers too so it's a weird line. I hope I did it right? Also gonna add to story tags. Those need updated.

The secret btw was that Noel was never going back to therapy. Wow. Not the biggest shock of the chap tho.

We're at 30k words for this fic now! and 12 chaps. Not the longest thing, but I just... this makes sense to me as a multichap despite length of chaps? Idk any info on your thoughts would still help.

I don't wanna jinx it but I expect my FD x RTC fic to be wayyyy longer chaps, so it won't be every fic like this short (that's just proven from other works too) and I haven't outlined my other (body swap) yet which is after this!

I hope you can be excited for up coming stuff even while this is still going, and I hope you'll still like and miss this when it gets closer to it!

I love you guys, you're like a lil important family to me.

I realized idk if i've "truly introduced" myself in a long time? So why not if you made it this far. Unless you're plotting my murder for this, it can't hurt to share some info.

I'm Sierra, but you can call me Seddie, Cece, or as others have coined "Nisha Jesus". I am aroace (happy pride again), I am in PA (USA), and when not writing I'm a 25 year old still in college cuz of a medical break :P I also love cats and nisha (duhh) :)

Anyway, Idk what else I have to say rn? Just enjoy your night/day if you can and see you soon!! <3

Chapter 13: Nobody’s Gonna Save My Soul Now.......

Summary:

Someone familiar finds Noel and brings him home to Misha.

Notes:

BET YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING DOUBLE LIU!!!

But I had to! I was so inspired. Idk, I'm just hoping this is a good thing for most of you :) Not the pain but the double update lmaoo.

TW ONCE AGAIN!!! SA mention, SH thought and mention, minor injury, drunk/drinking, and some trauma for sure.

WC is 2k <33 that's cool!!

Title from Bebe by Renforshort (I remembered it this time woo)

I did a lil more school last night, give me a round of applause so I feel motivated to do the rest lmaoo

Hoping everyone is staying as safe as they can! I am doing my part on my own health. If not, know how loved you are and that I'm here :)

Nisha is also here! And waiting for us!! :O let's go!!

Noel wasn’t going back into that bar. But there were a few issues with that. For starters, even if he wanted to drive, he’d dropped his keys when he almost fell over. Secondly, he wasn’t going to call any more attention than he needed to and end up crashing like Misha, especially if it wasn’t going to finish him off. 

 

The other issue was that he needed more alcohol. He needed to forget about it. But he couldn’t forget. Even when he walked over to the 7-11 and bought a cheap beer, he hated the taste of to try with. The worker didn’t ask why he was crying, and he didn’t even care to hide it. 

 

He would have to walk home. Or at least he would have if, halfway down the road from the 7-11, stumbling all the way, he wasn’t honked at by someone. 

 

“Fuck!” he jumped near out of his skin as he dropped the bottle with only a sips worth left in it on the road, glass everywhere. “Who th-the-” 

 

“Noel?” a sweet of concern called out, he didn’t need to be sober to know belonged to Constance Blackwood. 

 

The nicest girl in town had her head out the window, buns frizzing in the air as she looked out in such concern he could just sob. He’d sobbed enough. But that was panic. This was the kind of thing that felt like finding arms to break down in. 

 

Noel cried before he said anything else. His hands went up to his eyes and he lost it. Constance’s car door opened and closed, he could hear it, and then she was right in front of him, feet watching for the green glass at their feet and worried maybe Noel hurt himself. 

 

Not yet. 

 

He was glad it was Constance though. She wouldn’t judge. She was like a mom, but not as complicated as his mom. Maybe like the mom he always wanted, even if his mom had only gotten better and better with time. He wasn’t sure how, when he clearly became more trouble. 

 

But he’d never have been strong enough to tell Constance, or anyone, on his own. This wasn’t his fault. And she wouldn’t hate him. Right?

 

“Don’t tell Misha,” Noel just sobbed. 

 

Because if she didn’t hate him, Misha sure might. 

 

“Tell him what?” Constance looked up at him as the sun set behind him. “Why are you out here stumbling on the road? Drinking like this? Noel, talk to me.” 

 

“I-I can’t,” Noel said, mind fuzzy from the drinks and trying to balance his cries between the slurs and stutters he had. 

 

“Where’s Misha?” 

 

“Constance, no!” Noel only cried more. 

 

If he knew he skipped therapy, knew he was drunkenly stumbling on a road somewhere, knew he got drunk, let a stranger buy him drinks, let…let him-

 

“Just leave me here,” Noel moved to sit down, not caring for the glass that could cut him or even the cars that could strike if Constance moved her car. “ Please.” 

 

“No!” Constance said, equally shocked and horrified. “Let me take you home.” 

 

“I can’t!”

 

“Then, I’m calling Misha to come get you.” 

 

“No! That’s worseeee….” Noel cried more. “I-I-I don’t know wh-at to do right now, Connie, please help me.” 

 

She watched the boy start to hyperventilate as he held onto her stocking for dear life, like she’d leave him there, and it’d all somehow get worse than this. 

 

“I’m not leaving you,” She promised. “But we need to get you home, Noel. Misha’s probably worried sick.” 

 

Noel choked out between a laugh and a sob. If he was worried, would he even be grateful to find out he’s okay? Or not okay, but alive? Would he be happier to mourn him than look at his current state and feel disgust? 

 

“Fine, whatever, it doesn’t-t matter,” he said, trying to get off the ground, hand in a piece of glass as he winced and fell back down. He was so dizzy, he hardly had the energy, and it took Constance reaching a hand out to make him get to his feet at all, let alone be stable.

 

“You cut yourself…” Constance glanced at him. 

 

“No, I don’t!” He freaked out. “I’m not some… crazy person!” 

 

Constance's face twisted in confusion and more worry. “What…?”

 

“Oh, you meant the…” Noel looked down at his cut, numb hand. “Right… I can’t…It’s kinda numb.” 

 

“Wel,l that’s not good,” Constance said, taking his clear hand and guiding him into the passenger seat. She didn’t deal with drunk people too often, but she was a great empath. “We’ll fix it all up.” 

 

But this couldn’t be fixed with a bandaid. Because the cut wasn’t the real issue. It was just the scrape on the surface.

 

“Whatever….” he found his own feelings becoming rage.

 

At the nicest girl in town, in the meanest world there ever was. Not his real target. But he couldn’t burn the world down…right? 

 

They eventually got to Misha’s place, Constance driving around the glass and giving him a bandaid from the first aid kit to put on, even though the palm was a tricky place, let alone for a drunk guy. 

 

She was worried the whole way, but it was a quick drive at least. She knew-or at least assumed-Misha would know what to do. Or what it was about. This just wasn’t like Noel.

 

She helped him get to their apartment door, and even though he looked a mix of mad, dissociated, and helpless, she had to knock on the door. Whether he saw it or not, he needed to be with Misha for whatever this was. Nobody else ever came close to helping him. 

 

The knocks rang out, and a loud sigh of frustration came out behind the door that made Noel flinch. 

 

“Whoever you are I can’t talk I’m looking for- Noel!” he cut himself off with a cry of relief. 

 

He moved forward to try and hug him, worried sick for the past few hours when he never came home or answered his phone. Noel was just leaning up against the wall, and Constance was there, and he was confused, but he was there. And that was better than when he was missing. Answers yet or not.

 

Noel only pressed his back further into the wall. He loved Misha, but his head was spinning, and he wanted space. 

 

Misha froze after pulling back, now more upset than worried. Noel's fault or not, something was wrong. Constance’s face said as much. 

 

“What happened?” He said in general, stern-faced. 

 

“I don’t know, I found him drinking on the road.” 

 

“ On the road?!”

 

Constance nodded as she bit her lip a bit. 

 

“Господи, блядь, Ісусе Христе!” Misha threw his hands up before turning back to Noel. “What the fuck, Noel?”

 

“Don’t you dare.” 

 

“What?! Worry about you?!” 

 

Noel swallowed, and it was heavy. He didn’t meet his eyes. He was ashamed now, on top of it all. 

 

“Thanks, Constance.” Misha ran a hand down his face. “I’ll handle it.” 

 

“You sure?” 

 

“Yeah.” He nodded. 

 

When Constance was gone, Noel went straight into their home without a word, followed by Misha and a shut door. 

 

“I’m so glad I have y-you to handle things for me like a chore.” Noel sassed drunkenly as he placed his phone down on the counter, then steadied himself with his hands on the cold granite after. 

 

“When did I say that?!” Misha scoffed. “I never said that!” 

 

“You didn’t have to!” Noel cut back. “Or maybe you did, and it was j-just behind my backkkk.” 

 

Drunken him felt so clever for that one, but it only made things hurt worse. Which sober him didn’t want. He just wanted to forget. 

 

Misha didn’t dignify the drunken lashing with a response. “I don’t know what the fuck happened, but you never came home from therapy, and do you even know how fucking scared I was?!” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Extremely, Noel.” He sighed out more relief, and some heated anger came out with it. 

 

Noel continued to not meet his eyes, and Misha was only more pissed. He knew Noel thought he cared less than he did before, but this level? Did Noel really think he wouldn’t notice or care if he disappeared? Like it wouldn’t crush his entire soul?

 

He could say it was his fault, but right now, he was just pissed. 

 

“Did you even go to therapy?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“And what, it went so bad you went to go grab a drink at the gas station like you were me 5 years ago?!” 

 

“No!” Noel exclaimed, voice lowering after. “I actually went to the bar…”

 

Enough time passed, it wasn’t unbelievable that he could have been there, and therapy. But Misha had no idea he had an urge to drink. Therapy was supposed to do the opposite, right? He’d never been but… what the hell happened that brought him there? Noel never went there.

 

“I just needed a drink,” Noel explained, like he had read his mind. 

 

“And it was a buy one, get 10 special?” Misha pointed out. “How much did you drink anyway?!”

 

“Enough.” 

 

“Enough?”

 

“Yeah, enough to forget, okay?!” Neol finally looked at him. “Don’t pretend you don’t do it.” 

 

Misha’s teeth clenched and he refused to respond to that either. He wasn’t the one who was out being stupid. This time.

 

“Is that why you were walking on road?” He asked. 

 

“No. I left my keys at the bar…” Noel’s arms crossed. 

 

Misha was confused. “Even if you weren’t going to drive, why didn’t you go get them.” 

 

“I couldn’t go back in there.” Noel clenched his hands as he tried not to tear up. 

 

“Why not!?” 

 

“Because….. There was someone in there….” 

 

Msiha’s face softened for a second to ask, “Homophobe being cruel?” 

 

“No,” Noel told him. “This person… was actually gay himself.” 

 

Misha’s whole world froze. What did that mean? Why did it seem so loaded? 

 

“What?” 

 

“Yeah, he was gay too,” Noel said. “And he didn’t let the bartender ignore me.” 

 

“I do that.” Misha’s defenses came in. 

 

“You weren’t there though, and my eyeliner today was a target I guess…..” Noel sighed. “I wasn’t saying it to make you feel bad.” 

 

“But?” Misha felt it coming. 

 

“But… I felt like I could finally speak to someone about us.” 

 

“Th-that’s what therapy is for!” Misha stepped closer. “That’s what I’m here for!” 

 

“Y-you don’t get it!” Noel turned his back on him. 

 

“Then explain it to me!” Misha yelled, almost begging for the punishment. 

 

“I felt like someone wanted to know about me, hear about the things I like without worrying I’m ruining their day, and-and he made me feel like me again! Feel good for a moment!”

 

Misha’s heart snapped halfway down the middle as he held back the emotion in his voice. “Oh, so this guy made you feel good?”

 

“ He did.” Noel’s face scrunched. “Until he didn’t….”

 

“Wh-what does that mean-”

 

Before Misha could finish, he saw Noel’s shoulders move up and down in a rapid fashion, even from the back, a sign of sobbing he was trying to keep to himself. 

 

And that’s when Misha realized what he meant. And his heart snapped the rest of the way. And he was just as broken as Noel was for him. 

 

“Oh…I- Лайно…” he whispered to himself. “Noel, I-” 

 

Noel cried more, his voice pitched with it. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, no, no, no, angel, no,” Misha quickly assured, tentatively testing a hand on his shoulder. “Is not your fault.” 

 

“How can you even know that?” Noel turned to face him, teary-eyed. 

 

“Because you didn’t want it.” 

 

Noel swallowed again, an even heavier lump, as he felt the truth of those words. “I really didn’t,” he just sobbed, falling into Misha’s chest as the other caught him. 

 

Misha could be mad about some of the other stuff another time. Right now, he needed to be here for Noel. Hold him while he slept, dried his tears, and kept him safe like he wished he could have done this whole time.

Notes:

Oof. Catchprhase poor Noel alert.

But also Misha. He was so worried, and Noel still said some stuff that's tough, and he'll probs blame himself or feel like he isn't good enough and stuff.

NONE OF THATS TRUEEEEE, you guys are victims omfg, someone pls hold them together with glue forever they need it right now. Soulmate boys be sad sometimes :(

Also Hi connie!! First choir spotting, and only one until closer to the end I think too

I think I'll get to swim today!! So fun!

Happy Friday to all and to all a good Friday. Except Nisha on their sad lil Wednesday here

Maybe there Friday will be better?

Not on my watch tho ;) /lh

BYEEE LOVE YOUUU !!

Chapter 14: He's My Everything But I Ruined Everything.......

Summary:

Noel forgot what happened, and Misha has to tell him. It doesn't go well, even for something like that.

Notes:

Hello everyone! I'm here to say hi and so is my dog who is next to me!! :D (Her name is Winnie)

I don't think it's been too long since an update here but I always have stuff to share!

For starters, as usual, TW!!!

TW// SA mentions, Panic Attacks, and SH. Vague mentions of other past events too such as drinking, car accidents, and EDs.

I always want you safe. Nothing bad will ever be without protecting you guys first!! Too bad I can't do the same for Nisha /lh

You guys like when I hurt them though, so it's okay right? Right??? :)

Word count is 2.2k, bringing us to almost 25k before chap 15. Cool? Maybe!

I have felt sick tonight too uck, but I had an okay day before it! Feelign happier lately and hoping it's not just some fluke!

If there pain makes you happy? I implore you to read on too!!

Title from Sad Girl By Kito and Banks. Noel is indeed a sad girl here, and so is Misha :( my bbgirls.

Also if for some reason this got sent with some other works? That's because I am trying to move from my oneshot collection to solos where I can organize it better and that comes with reposting stuff!

Don't worry, I won't delete the collection, it's fate will be something else, idk fully yet tho! I'll ask over there sometime!

But yeah, nothing new but feel free to check them out too if you want! It's time. It's too crowded over there with all my words, how can you find anything?

Right now though, we are in the multichap, so, enjoy this chapter <33

Noel woke up in the morning for the first time still wrapped in the arms of Misha. More and more lately Misha was staying up into the morning to drink and using the time before Noel got up to binge. 

 

Last night though, Misha neither drink nor ate. He stayed by Noel. And he didn’t let go. Even when Noel was asleep, having cried himself out, he stayed up just to look down over him. Then let himself shed a few tears himself. 

 

How did they get here? How did they get so hurt? Constantly these days. 

 

He wished it was him. Not his Noel. Noel was already hurt more to begin with. Misha started it, Misha should take the pain. Not his Noel. 

 

Staying up meant he got to make sure he was okay and safe and with him still. What if he wasn’t? What if he was passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere? What if he was taken by that guy and hurt worse? What if he got hit by the cars on the road and died with the last memory of a touch being unwanted and bad. Not the soft toches Misha gave him. 

 

Right now their bed was filled with soft touches. Misha woke alongside with Noel as the boy turned, and instantly began to rub sof circles on Noel’s back as his front pressed towards his chest now. 

 

His eye stayed shut, the motions were mindless, and everything was soft for a few moments. 

 

Until Noel felt the hangover stretch the insides of his head further than he could handle. He tucked his head into Misha more and groaned.

 

“What is wrong, коханий?” Misha grumbled, voice like gravel from just waking up.

 

Misha knew what was wrong in some ways. What he did, what had happened, all the emotions. But he knew that groan wasn’t the type to match it. If anything he figured he'd be crying, not cursing the sun through the rows of the window shades.

 

“My head…..” Noel shifted more in the bed as Misha shifted to shield him from the sun. “What…what happened?” 

 

And that’s when Misha’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

 

Noel didn’t remember what happened. 

 

And Misha would be the one who would have to tell him. 

 

He wanted to cry, scream and throw up. He wanted to lie. He wanted to run. He wanted to kill everyone and burn the world down. He said he’d take some punishments, but when the punishment was hurting Noel, he’d rather die.

 

“Oh…uh,” Misha’s voice cracked with pain. 

 

Noel frowned in his arms. “What is it?”

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Misha asked. 

 

Noel closed his eyes and tried to think, but with the hangover, it only hurt to try. 

 

“I don’t know….I’m sorry… Did I do something bad?” Noel frowned even more as he moved to look at Misha. 

 

Misha felt everything in him break again. He paused longer than he wanted to, but then moved his hand up to Noel’s hair, stroking it lightly as he answered. “No, not…not anything that we need to talk about now.” 

 

“So I did do something bad?” 

 

Technically, he did. It just wasn’t the most important thing. The biggest thing that happened was him being a victim to bad things, not making them. 

 

Misha still didn’t wanna lie. He smacked his lips nervously and tried to find the words, but once again, his own mind was failing too- alcohol or not. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Noel cried, voice pitched as he placed his head back down into Misha. 

 

“No, no, I don’t want or need any sorries,” Misha tried to pick him back up out of the hole he dug himself, moving his hand to his cheek to make him look at him. “If you are okay, then that is all I need.” 

 

“What happened then?” 

 

“You went to a bar after therapy.” Misha stated simply, but Noel knew it couldn’t be that simple. 

 

He was going slow. Building up to something. Something Noel was scared of. 

 

Especially because he realized he didn’t even remember going to therapy let alone a bar. 

 

“I was not with you, Noel…..” Misha said. “ But-”

 

There was that but. 

 

“You remembered things last night, and you told me them, Constance told me some others….”

 

“Constance?” 

 

“She found you, on the side of the road, drinking.” Misha tried to keep his breathing calm so Noel could stay calm too. “Almost hit you, she said.” 

 

“Wh….” Suddenly he had a flash of headlights and a sick feeling wave over him. “That seems right….but also really wrong.” 

 

Misha shrugged. “That’s what happened.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Why what?” Misha asked. 

 

“If I needed a drink, I mean… that’s not too crazy. But why didn’t I- wait how much did I fucking drink?” Noel held his head as he emphasized it. 

 

“I-I wasn’t there….” he just repeated. 

 

“Well, why didn’t you pick me up?” 

 

“You never called me! I tried to reach you, but….” 

 

“But?” 

 

“Apparently you were talking to some guy at the bar, and you were distracted.” 

 

Noel’s mouth went even drier. “A guy?”

 

The way Misha said it didn’t hide the distaste for the individual. Even if Noel knew nothing else, he knew Misha didn’t like him. Why, though? Was it his fault? Jealousy? Did he…. Do something?

 

He frowned again and Misha noticed. 

 

“You did nothing wrong.” He made clear before he even said anything else. 

 

“Oh, God.” Apparently that response only terrified Noel. 

 

Why would Misha even say that if there wasn’t something questionable? Why was he still holding him so tight when he’d upset him? 

 

“Look at me,” Misha grabbed his arms before he could spiral and jump out of bed to run off who knows where and get hurt even worse. “You didn’t do anything with him you wouldn’t have done with any friend.” 

 

“Then why-” 

 

“Because he’s not a friend, Noel,” Misha sighed heavily, unable to meet Noel’s brown eyes with his own for this. “He… he touched you.” 

 

Noel’s own heart took it’s time to sink to the bottom of his gut now. Tie froze. So did he. “I cheated on you?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“I was… I was as-” 

 

Noel in that moment wasn’t sure which one was worse. Both felt like unmanageable things. The straw to break the camel’s back. 

 

If he had cheated he’d have hurt the one person he loved. If not…he was taken advantage of. 

 

Was he horrible though, if he wished he cheated on him instead? 

 

The fact he couldn’t even remember it was both a curse and a blessing. That sick feeling was all he had of it left. Sick, sick, sick. All in his mouth and throat. Probably mixed with cheap beer originally. Something he’d doubt he could ever touch again now. 

 

He felt guilty for being assaulted, which was sick in its own way. He must have asked for it. Why else did he go to the bar? What was wrong with him? He was sick. 

 

“Are you sure?” Noel pleaded with him back. 

 

“I’m sorry….” 

 

“No-” Noel shook his head as he held back sobs. “I’m sorry!”

 

“Don’t you dare Noel,” Mish shook his own head back, biting his lip and fighting his own tears. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

 

“I did nothing right…..” He moved his palm up to catch some tears. 

 

Misha didn’t know what to say, he was so scared of saying the wrong thing. He thought honesty was the best thing to give him, but honestly didn’t take it all back or fix it. 

 

“Look at me,” Misha demanded. “I could be mad you went to some bar, I could be mad you talked to some guy about us, and I could be mad you opted to silence your phone and go walking down the street when you could hardly even walk, but I will never, ever be mad at you for something you didn’t want to even happen.”

 

Did Misha mean it? Noel looked at him through glossy eyes and prayed he did. What if he just said it though? What if he wanted to walk away when it didn’t look so bad on his part? What if he wasn’t mad, but disappointed he was too stupid to stop or see it calming. 

 

“Breathe.” Misha reminded him, right when he was starting to hyperventilate. 

 

“You should hate me for those things then, if nothing else,” Noel cried. “I fucked up.”

 

“I…I just wanna know why you went there instead of coming home.” Misha told him. How could he ever help fix it if he didn’t understand it. “Do you remember that part?”

 

Noel searched himself again, and could only come to one thought, one he had many times ago. 

 

“I just… I wanted to escape some things.” 

 

“And the bar?” 

 

“Alcohol?” Noel shrugged, his tears still being fought off with no avail as he talked in a watery fashion to every question. “And you can’t judge me for that, I know you drink all the time these days.” 

 

Misha ran a hand through his hair. “I… I didn’t mean to start it.” 

 

“But what?” Noel scoffed. “At least you don’t get groped when you drink?!” 

 

Misha’s brows furrowed heavily. “I never said that.” 

 

“...you didn’t have to.” Noel explained, knowing whether that was it or not, he had more questions. Questions he wouldn’t ask. About why he needed anything more than what they had. 

 

Maybe a while ago he could say he was too hurt to take the love, but Misha was different now too. And what they had wasn’t what it was. It wasn’t what they could just go back to and call perfect. For either of them.

 

“I just…. Why didn’t you drink here? Or in your car? It’s not a crime to go to a bar but you never go to it!” 

 

“So i must have been looking for someone to touch me?!” 

 

“No!” Misha’s blood pressure rose with each assumption. “But you must have been looking for something!”

 

“You wanna know what I’ve been looking for?” Noel’s lip quivered as he looked at Misha, dead in the eyes, not scared to say it this time. 

 

Misha just nodded. Scared. But needing it. 

 

“I was looking to feel like myself again,” Noel explained. “Not judge, or annoying, or broken. But me. That’s why I talked to some stranger I’m sure!” 

 

Mishas face twisted in a way Noel couldn’t read. “Is that why you said he made you feel good at first, when he talked to you?” 

 

Noel didn’t remember it, but it felt right. “....maybe.” 

 

“Then dammit, Noel! I’m right here!” Misha blew up a bit. “Let me do that!” 

 

“I can’t!” Noel shouted back, the pair tangled in covers and shifted further and further away at this point. Colder and colder. “I don’t know why but it’s not that simple!” 

 

“....because of me.” Misha nodded, his emotions shifting into anger for himself more than anyone else. “I hurt you, and now everything that hurts you is my fault, and I can’t take it back!” 

 

Misha threw a stray pillow across the room and grabbed his head until he was nearly pulling hair out of his scalp. 

 

“I…I never said that Misha,” Noel’s chest got tight with distress. 

 

“ I’m saying it!” Misha exploded again before the flood gates all burst and he was just sobbing. “I’m so fucking sorry and I don’t know what to do because nothing can take it back. I wanna take it back, Noel, I fucking swear I-” 

 

Noel reached forward for his hand. He wanted to help him. Even if part of him said that he should be focusing on what he just dealt with. Because his brain always went to Misha first. Why it mattered so much what he thought. 

 

Was he angry? Ever at him? Or devastated? 

 

It’d been how long and he was still devastated. 

 

He knew what he needed to do. He needed to make sure Misha was okay, whatever it took. “Tell me what to do right now.” 

 

“I don’t know,” Misha cried more. “I just want you to be okay!” 

 

“I just want you to be okay!” 

 

The arguing, mixed with pure selflessness, was almost a weird toxic sense of their relationship right now. They never noticed when they never had issues to this degree. But it was still clearly something they should have worked on. It wasn’t good. 

 

“We shouldn’t be living like this,” Noel said, more to himself than anyone else. “We should be happy, and safe, and engaged, and-”

 

“Engaged?”

 

Noel’s whole body froze in terror. He just said that. And he was never meant to say it aloud. It was more annoying than his movies and more clingy than Misha would ever want some damaged goods to be.

 

“I didn’t say that, I mean, I did I just-” Noel stumbled. “I-I didn’t mean to.” 

 

“Is that part of why you can’t trust me when I say I love you?” 

 

Misha’s eyes bore into him with accusation, and he wanted to throw up even more than before. 

 

“No!”

 

Maybe. 

 

“Noel, you know I-” 

 

“I’m sorry, I just…I can’t right now,” Noel interrupted him, running to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. 

 

Nobody knocked on the door. He’d have known, his back was pressed against it as he tried to stop his panic. He felt nothing. And he wished he could say the same inside. 

 

He wanted to be sick still, and he wanted to be okay, but maybe being okay was doing what he’d been doing all along. Razors only cut the surface anyway, right? He was cut bone deep emotionally. And he needed it to happen, so everything else… could stop.

Notes:

Oof.

If you've been SA'd, please remember you're never alone and you did NOTHING wrong.

Noel's thoughts aren't mine. But if you feel they ever miss the mark, let me know. It was sensitivity read though so, keep that in mind too if you are hurt so you know it'd never be my intention.

Misha is so guilty. It's not his fault but he sees it like a domino. And yeah, he's balancing being pissed about stuff without Noel thinking it's about the assault. Or also like, making it more about that when Noel's hurt. But he's valid.

And Noel? He's hurt and confused and, yeah there's a reason he doesn't remember therapy, buddy. He's gonna SH here, and he's gonna hate himself, and yeah, that engagement thing has been teetering in his mind before we even got to where this fic started. Maybe it'll come up again.

Five years IS awhile, and they don't NEED to be engaged, but Noel has to wonder if the reason they aren't is because he's not worth forever. He's so wrong. He's worth it all.

As an iconic person twice said, FUCK JARED.

And as I will say here, with a night of no homework ahead of me, is I hope you have a nice and chill night too lovelies :)

BYEEEEEEE!! <33

Chapter 15: One Of Us Has Got To Try And Keep A Promise.......

Summary:

Misha and Noel get into a fight over a dinner that one of them won't eat, and the other wants to throw up after eating.

Notes:

Hello, everyone

It's me, and no, I still haven't done my school work yet, but I'll go after this :)

This is another angsty sad one, pls pls pls forgive and don't kill me

TW// All the things that have happened before in mention

1.5k words homies

Song is I'm Trying By Maisie Peters :)

I don't have a ton to say, just enjoy and tysm for everything always <33

Some more time passes. The story of their life. Blurred between the lines Noel carves into his thighs and the lines of sweat that Misha accumulates when he’s puking hard enough to lose more weight just by the effort it takes from him. 

 

But nothing takes more effort than trying to fix things with Noel. He didn’t even really do anything the last time they talked and he freaked out. He was just honest. Why was that a crime? He was hurting because of Noel, and Noel was hurting because of him, and every moment it piled on the other hurt worse. 

 

They were fucking buried in the guilt up to their necks. And it was threatening to pull them under if nothing changed. But Misha still didn’t know what to change.

 

The thing he knew would help the most… he couldn’t take back. Even if he’d give his life to at this point. Even if it wasn’t even true to begin with, not the way he said it at least. 

 

He was puking up guilt at this point. Drinking it into his gut where he could hide from it for a while. And that couldn’t help. But it kept him alive long enough to try to. 

 

And enough for Misha to actually get angry about it. 

 

He was fucked up too. And yeah he caused it, but this wasn’t some pointing game. He wanted things fixed. He did so much to be forgiven. He would do a million things more. But nothing was good enough for Noel. 

 

And so if nothing was good enough and Misha wasn’t good enough. At the same time Noel felt like he was too broken to even be considered salvageable. 

 

The day Misha thought he might be in the same boat was the day he snapped. 

 

Noel wouldn’t touch his food. He snapped at Misha for pointing it out. Accepted his apology with a grumble and then shook his hand off his arm like he was garbage. 

 

God dammit, he fucked up, but he was still his Misha! He wasn’t garbage! He was just human. 

 

“Stop pushing me away!” Misha broke after he was shrugged off like a flea. “I know i’m not doing enough, or doing it right, but dammit Noel i’m trying! Why does that not make a difference?!” 

 

Noel swallowed. Dry. No food was in his mouth. No saliva either as his entire body froze and dried. 

 

Misha wished he’d just scream back, on the verge of tears for what he’d done, but he looked like he was already too broken to do much about it. 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

“I don’t want that,” Misha sobbed, slumped over in his kitchen chair, fists resting on his head and elbows resting on the counter. “I want to fix things.” 

 

“I’m already going to therapy….” Noel lied, as he moved his napkin from his lap to the table. 

 

“But you’re not eating.” Misha pressed, guilty, but too far gone to stop. 

 

“And you’re not sleeping.” Noel pressed back, calm but firm. “Between that, and the drinking, if I'm due for therapy, you should be practically commited.” 

 

“I’m like this because of-” 

 

“Oh no,” Noel stopped him. “This isn’t my fault! You’re the one throwing stones. You yelled at me tonight. And you told someone how much I bothered you while I was right there.” 

 

“You weren't meant to hear!” Misha smashed his hands down, rattling the silverware. 

 

“That doesn’t make it better!” 

 

“But, I didn’t explain it, or word it right….I didn’t-” Misha just stopped, looked down, and sobbed. 

 

Noel felt that freezing numbness again at the sound of Misha hurting. He knew he didn’t start it. But was he making it harder? Was it even his choice to make? He didn’t wanna feel or be like this. And he didn’t wanna hurt Misha. 

 

Misha should leave him. Right here and now if it hurts so bad. But he won’t and neither will Noel. They’re just as weak as they are scared and hurt. 

 

“I’ll fix it,” Misha continued to sob. “Just tell me what to do and I swear to fucking God i’ll do it.” 

 

“I…” Noel’s body language was rigid. “I still don’t know what you mean.” 

 

Misha shook his head in horror that he’d not just say what he could do. Or even admit the problem. 

 

“Like I said, I go to therapy.” 

 

Misha frowned tearily. “That can’t fix us.” 

 

“Then why am I going?!” 

 

“Because I thought it’d help let you fix us!” Misha was basically clawing at the tablecloth to try and keep his temper as he cried. 

 

He wasn’t even as mad as he was desperate. 

 

“Why do I have to fix us?! We were fine before you broke us!” Noel cried back, his own much calmer tears swelling up with humiliation and anger of his own.

 

“I didn’t mean to-” Misha hit the table this time with purpose, fist made.

 

Noel watched, seeing how much he was hurting, and with the fear he’d see this as the last straw, fessed up. 

 

“Fuck, I lied… I’m sorry!” Noel cried, wringing his hands in nerves. 

 

Misha looked at him, confused, and terrified something was really bad. Really wrong.

 

His mind went to bad places. What could he be lying about. Was he more hurt than he let on? Was that possible? What if something really bad was happening that only made it worse? Mad it so there were pieces Misha couldn’t even see to pick up. Made it so-

 

“I haven’t been going to therapy,” Noel breathed out heavily. 

 

It wasn’t what he expected. And he felt bad that he was disappointed in it. If something had to be wrong, he wanted it to be something that explained it all. That would fix everything. He didn’t think this was the key. 

 

But, it did mean Noel was lying to him. And if about this? Then what else?

 

Noel thought confessing would make him stop questioning. It only made him more scared and paranoid of what was happening to Noel he didn’t know. It was clearly the reason in his mind, and if he wanted it solved, he needed to know it fully. 

 

Noel regretted it immediately. 

 

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have-” 

 

“No.” Misha made clear to him he did the right thing, scared or not, needing him to not be discouraged. “I’m…I’m not mad.”

 

“But you’re disappointed?” He asked, taunting the tone he heard from his mother hundreds of times before. 

 

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just concerned about you.” 

 

“Concerned or scared?”

 

Misha didn’t know the difference at this point, and just helplessly shrugged. 

 

“I’m scared too, you know….” Noel’s voice shook. “But therapy didn’t-” 

 

“Did you give it a chance?” Misha interrupted him, realizing his mistake. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s….fine.” Noel breathed in and out. 

 

“I just…. I want us to be okay and if this could help I-” Misha stopped himself. “Is there anything I can do to make it work?” 

 

“No….I just can’t-” 

 

“Well, you’re not paying for it, so that’s easy for you to say!” Misha freaked out a bit. “I feel like you didn’t even try.” 

 

“Why do I have to try therapy just cause you want me to?!”

 

“It’s not trying therapy I want from you, it’s doing your part to actually try and save us!” 

 

Noel looked down at his now-cold food. His appetite was gone. But it wasn’t like he was going to eat it anyway. 

 

“You know I want that.” 

 

“Do I?” Misha asked him, leaned over the table to speak closer to him. 

 

“Misha-” 

 

“You can’t avoid this Noel!” Misha pleaded. “I clearly can’t do this on my own!” 

 

“I’m sorry! I’ve been dealing with what happened and-” 

 

“Just because something bad happened at a bar wasn’t on you, doesn’t mean this isn’t! At least not partially.” 

 

Noel’s mouth fell open slightly. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

 

Misha realized what he said, and wanted to throw up before he could even force it out of his mouth with his fingers. 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

 

“Then how the fuck did you mean it?” Noel narrowed his eyes. “I was assaulted!” 

 

“I know!” Misha put his hands up. “Maybe I…I need to look at myself a little more too. I thought I was trying, but clearly, there’s a disconnect.” 

 

“Then you go to therapy.” Noel crossed his arms. 

 

“No.” Misha said. “ We go.” 

 

Noel looked at him, unsure what to say, knowing he didn’t want it. But knowing he also didn’t want this. What it’s like right now. 

 

It was all just so scary, and hard, and he missed what it was like before he forgot what good love felt like. He knew it was in there. Deep down. 

 

But he lost it and now…. 

 

“Fine.” Noel said. “Together.” 

 

“That’s all I want…” Misha sat back more. “Us, together.” 

 

They could be together, trying to weather the storm, sure. But sometimes, storms brought cyclones. And just because they survived one cyclone, didn’t mean they’d survive another.

Notes:

I have a snack and a game plan to do some homework and maybe some other things

I started my FD x RTC fic so that's cool!

As for this fic....ouch. Beta read to be appropriate while still wrecking you.

These boyssss. :(

What's your predictions? Lmk!!

And have a great night <33 byeee

Chapter 16: You Shoot Them Down Til You End Up Alone......

Summary:

How many more fights can the boys survive? How much more pain can they take? And how low will they go when they feel it all closing in?

Notes:

Hello!!

I went swimming today, in a new bathing suit and yeah, it's cobalt blue so it's fierceeeee. Swimming is nice. But I couldn't do too much.

WHY WAS THERE THE BIGGEST SPIDER ON THE UMBRELLA THO!?!

Did one of you send it to me so I would be punished for writing this???? Probs

Tysm for 60 kudos btw!!!

I love you all, and my friends here!! so so so so so much!! :) You guys make me so happy!

And I'm mostly happy today so yay!

This fic is the opposite tho isn't it lmaooo

Poor Noel and Poor Misha on trademarks forreals yo!

TW// All the past stuff, including Noel's dad issues and SH mentions and fighting :(

WC is 1.4k too, most written last night

Song from the title is Weapon by Against The Current. Reallll.

Sad sillies. But fun writing! Eat it up :D

Misha scheduled the appointment with a different, couples therapist. He agreed to go and it felt like progress. Weight was off their chests, and things were just…. Hopeful? Even if they were messy first. 

 

Didn’t you have to have to hit rock bottom to climb back out?

 

This was rock bottom…. right?

 

It sure felt like it. 

 

Noel had started eating again. Or faking it. 

 

Noel was doing okay in general as far as Misha could see, from that hope no doubt. Even if he still had to cut himself every day just to fake it to the next. 

 

They’re gonna be okay now. Things were pointing to it. The actions that spoke louder than the words they screamed at each other. He’d done his part. That was enough to take things in the right direction. It had to. 

 

Noel right now was home. Actually home and safe! With Misha. On the couch and scrolling on his phone. The perfect time for Misha to approach with the new light he found, and gratitude, for Noel. For trying. For being willing to forgive. 

 

“Hello, my gorgeous poet,” Misha moved a pillow out of the way to sit next to Noel. “What are you looking at on the phone?” 

 

“Nothing….” Noel said as he locked it and placed it next to himself. 

 

There was an awkward beat of silence where Noel just watched Misha smile at him expectantly. 

 

“Can I help you with something?” Noel asked in confusion. 

 

Misha’s smile faltered. 

 

“I wanted to spend time with you….”

 

“Oh,” Noel shifted. “Well, okay….doing what?”

 

Misha couldn’t help but feel like things were as awkward as they felt. But, he wouldn’t give up. There were bound to be those things. Noel was probably just scared. And yeah, that was Misha’s fault. So he’d take the brunt of the awkwardness until they were through it all and back into love again. 

 

No, not love. 

 

They were still in love. 

 

That’s why it was so hard. 

 

What he meant was when they were back in healthy love. The kind that made their heart fill with butterflies, not anxiety. And that didn’t come with questions about why he’d wanna be by his side. 

 

“Whatever you want,” Misha smiled again, more forced this time. “I want to make you happy.” 

 

Noel’s face faltered. “I thought the things I wanted didn’t make you happy….”

 

Misha wanted to be mad, but Noel was just saying it like it was normal. That wasn’t normal. Misha was caught off guard by the way he just took it. Was this what he thought life had to be? Was this why he didn’t see a way out until Misha was willing to come step in and get help with him too? 

 

“I wanna move past that Noel…..I swear, and if we can’t today, we’ll work on it tomorrow, I just thought….” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I thought today was a good day for us, that is all,” He gave him a sweet look. 

 

One that Noel sent back with a pitying smile. One that didn’t meet his eyes. One that Misha still saw some hope in. 

 

“Come on,” Misha shifted a bit. “We can even go get ice cream or-” 

 

“Ow!” 

 

Misha’s whole body froze. What did he do? He had to assess it. 

 

He looked down and saw the only thing he’d done, was grab Noel’s thigh…..why would that hurt? Unless. 

 

“Noel?” 

 

“No, Misha.” Noel shut him down. “It’s not whatever you’re thinking.” 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Are you questioning me?” Noel sent back, angered as he scooted further away. 

 

“Well, you haven’t been honest!” Misha had to exclaim, worried beyond belief, and so sick of having these moments he wanted to cry. 

 

“This is different,” Noel told him, cold. “You need to drop it.” 

 

“How can I drop it when you won’t drop anything I’ve done?” Misha motioned to himself in a furry of annoyance he’d never wanted to see in himself again. 

 

“Misha-” 

 

“You’re cutting yourself! You’re gonna kill yourself! I’m your boyfriend…why-why would this be something that I drop?!” Misha exclaimed. “I care about you! I love you! Fuck, why don’t you see that?!” 

 

Misha stood up, throwing the pillow to the floor. Looking at Noel like he was sabotaging them. Betraying them. Betraying him when he only wanted to love him. 

 

“I’m trying!” Noel cried. 

 

“Yeah, trying to hurt yourself!” 

 

“It’s not that fucking simple!” Noel had a tear fall down his face. “I didn’t choose this!” 

 

Misha scoffed. “Oh and I did?” 

 

“I never said that!”

 

“You didn’t have to!” Misha stared at him. “I know you think it’s all my fault.” 

 

Noel looked down at his hands, bordering on not speaking at all, but choosing to with or without the regrets of it. 

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

Noel’s polish couldn’t chip fast enough as they floated in a silence, marinating on the words that were said. The words that cut just as deep as any razor. 

 

Misha just cried. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me it got this bad?” He sobbed. “I’d have done anything to- I’d have-” 

 

“Done what?” Noel asked him, also a bit softer. “You couldn’t have stopped it.” 

 

Misha’s sobs echoed in the room as he eyed the boy. There was just pain. All around them now. And a longing apology under the surface that said, even if they couldn’t stop it, they’d do anything to. 

 

Noel felt so guilty. Wasn’t he just being honest? Misha couldn’t have stopped this once it started. It didn’t seem like he believed it though, or that it helped. 

 

“I just want you to be okay….” Misha told him. “I-I wanna make sure you’re okay because I love you and I…I did this to you.” 

 

Noel felt everything in him hurt. Not because it didn’t truly stem from Misha, but because he’d never want Misha to blame himself so hard for it regardless. Wanted him to just hate Noel and save himself. Noel was a lost cause, something he thought in his own mind. 

 

“Please just stop….” Noel cried. “It’s making me so guilty to see you like this.” 

 

What did Noel think Misha felt? 

 

He cried harder. And Noel tensed more as tears fell down his own face. 

 

“I said I’d go to therapy, I’ll stop cutting, I’ll… do whatever!” 

 

“Yeah, to make me believe it’s okay. What are you willing to do to actually be okay?!” Misha asked him, not getting what he did not see. 

 

And Noel, not getting what Misha thought he could do with a broken heart he never asked to be so unfixable. 

 

“I wanna trust you, Noel,” Misha cried. 

 

“That’s my whole problem!” Noel said. “Now you see why I’m struggling!” 

 

“But Noel I-” Misha swallowed down another big sob, so confused and hurt. 

 

Maybe he was right to be. Maybe he was wrong to be. Maybe it just was. 

 

“I’ve done so much, just to get you to see how much I love you still,” Misha felt a tear drop into his mouth. “I don’t know why you can’t just trust at least that.”

 

“You know why, Misha….” Noel whispered out, shattered. 

 

Misha’s teary eyes met his. “Well, I can’t trust you now either.”

 

“You don’t trust that I love you?” Noel felt the shattered pieces become even more shattered. He thought if he did anything, he did that. Did it in spite of himself too. 

 

“I trust you love me,” Misha said. “But I can’t trust you’re not doing bad things.” 

 

Noel shook his head. Misha was so focused on the wrong things. It made him so mad. So frustrated. Made him wish he never even confessed to the new therapy. He was being treated like a child, for something that might not even be good for him! 

 

“You’re not my dad, Misha.” Noel grit his teeth. 

 

That hurt Misha. And without thinking, he just said, “You’re right, I actually care what happens to you.”

 

Noel’s mouth fell open, distraught. “Misha-” 

 

“I can’t right now,” Misha told him, already backing up out of the room. “I’m sorry, and I love you, but even that doesn’t make sense right now, and I have to go.” 

 

He watch dMisha run out of the house. Noel just curled back up on the couch and cried. Maybe Misha was just like his dad after all. He was leaving him there to at least what felt like… die.

Notes:

My dog is with me right now, how iconic

She can not read that and it's good, then she can't cry.

How many of you have I made cry over this? Or ever? Hands up people lmaoo

DONT KILL ME THO!!!

The your fault? Low blow. The your dad tho? Lower blow.

Can they survive this? How is this NOT rock bottom?

We can maybe get some comfort next time, but after that? Yeah we still have 9 chaps so :) get ready

I <3 Writing

See you for them soon!!!

Chapter 17: I'm Running Back Into The Burning House For You......

Summary:

Things are so fucked, but he just can't go far from the boy he loves....

Notes:

Hello world!

Eveyrone wanted to kill me so i came back with more pain, sooner than expected /lh

IF YOU KILL ME THEY CAN NEVER BE HAPPY REMEMBER THAT!!!!!! You know who you are!!

Gosh though, I have a bodyguard here to protect me. Cuz it's comforting a lil, but oof, it's PAIN.

Welcome to the pain games guys, I'm your host :)

TW// SH, smoking, all that jazz from before

Wc is only 1.1k but you'll all say that's okay right? *sobs* Oliver did.

Title song is from Burning House by Julia Wolf and it fits like a GLOVE

I wish you luck on this one silly sad people :D /lh

Misha stood outside with a lit cigarette for exactly ten minutes before he realized he fucked up by leaving. 

 

He needed to. He really did. Even if it was just for that time. 

 

But fuck. This didn’t help shit with the actual problem. Just soothed his own problems. 

 

And Noel. 

 

Noel was all alone, probably scared, and… and he just had to go back to him. He knew he always would. Always at least wanted to. But Noel had to know too. 

 

He threw the cigarette into the ground and stomped on it before turning on the toe of his shoe and racing up the steps two at a time to him. He got to the door and luckily, it never locked behind him. Then flung the door open and there was no Noel. 

 

Was this how Noel felt when he left?

 

Like he was dying?  

 

That was never what he wanted. He just wanted to not die himself and now. Well… it was all back and worse then ever. 

 

His heart was racing as fast as he was as he flung open the bedroom door to. Then the bathroom. And then….stood still. 

 

Noel’s eyes met his, wide and tearied. Just as silent. 

 

“Ноель….” Misha said as he looked down from his face to his arm. 

 

Noel dropped the razor at the moment the words hit him. Misha was seeing it. Live. and he knew he never wanted that. 

 

“I-I thought you left me…..” 

 

Misha’s entire world sank around him. He was suddenly at a bottom of a pit and the only way out was to face the guilt. The guilt that he caused this. The guilt he always caused these things. The fact that every cut on Noel’s body was a sacrifice to loving him when he was truly no good.

 

“I…I am so sorry, poet,” Misha cried. “I would never leave you completely, I just needed….” 

 

Misha looked into Noel’s eyes and they only said what Noel needed. 

 

Noel needed him to not abandon him. 

 

And maybe it wasn’t fair, but it was true. 

 

Their whole story was true and never fair thought really.

 

“Please help me,” Noel cried, breaking down in front of him. “I’m sorry, I swear I want help, I swear I-” 

 

“Okay, I got you,” Misha pulled him in for a quick hug to soothe him. 

 

He saw the cuts and while they weren’t good, they weren’t to the level he couldn’t take a moment to thank the world he had a Noel to come back to.

 

Noel cried as Misha held onto him for dear life. The sobs in his ear like an old tune. One he wanted to forget. 

 

“You’re gonna be okay.” 

 

“But are we?” Noel asked. 

 

A trail of sobs followed from Noel’s mouth when Misha had no idea what to say. He wanted that. He’d do what he could. But like Noel said… he couldn’t just stop this by snapping his fingers. 

 

“Let’s just clean you up,” Misha told him, pulling away with a kiss to his head. “Okay?” 

 

Noel seemed so out of it, so Misha grabbed his face to make him look at him. 

 

“Okay?”

 

Noel nodded, face scrunched to stop more tears from flowing, so scared and yet so appreciative Misha was able to be the brave one here. He knew he couldn’t. At all. 

 

Noel was in a bit of shock. He wasn’t expecting Misha back that soon. Maybe never. That’s why he said fuck it and went to his arms with the blade. He didn’t have to hide. If Misha knew, the world could know too, and then as he was all alone because of it, he could burn them all down together with himself. 

 

Misha guided him to the sink and Noel was just staring past him, blinking, wishing this wasn’t what was happening. 

 

The Ukrainians heart shattered.

 

He moved for a wash cloth to wet and lightly blot the blood with. Then applied light pressure with. Then, even if it wouldn’t heal it any better, moved to kiss Noel on the palm as he held the wrist still. 

 

“I’m sorry….” 

 

“Oh baby,” Misha kissed his upturned palm a ton more times. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” 

 

“It’s not yours either!” 

 

Right now, Misha only cared about making sure Noel was okay. He barely heard those words. Only his heart racing as he held it there long enough for it to start to dry up. From the pressure or the tears taking all the water in Noel’s body from his blood? 

 

Cause he was still crying, and it was probably more painful emotionally than the cuts. 

 

Misha had to wonder how long he’d done it for. Since the beginning? That thought made him sick. He reached for the bandaids and buried it. 

 

Noel. Now. Safe.

 

That’s what mattered. 

 

He ripped the band-aid open with his teeth, using his one hand to still secure the wound with the dryer end of the washcloth. Then he moved them one by one over the boy's cuts. 

 

Noel thought it drew more attention. But he let him. Even if just for now. Misha felt like he could do something. Noel would let him do it. Felt he owed him that. 

 

“Does that feel okay?” Misha looked into his glossy eyes. 

 

Noel’s breath hiccuped as he nodded. 

 

“Good,” Misha moved to kiss gently over the bandages now instead. “я не можу тебе втратити….” he whispered against them. 

 

Noel sniffed. “I wasn’t going to go any further…. I don’t…at least I don’t think so?” 

 

Misha’s face twisted as he tried to stop himself from losing it. Noel needed him not to. He was sure Noel was going to break first, and he needed to catch him.

 

“What do you feel like now?”

 

“Like I need help,” Noel sobbed. “Misha, please help me.” 

 

Misha just grabbed him again, listening to sobs and pleas from him as he let himself silently cry in the crook of his neck. 

 

“Why won’t you help me fix this? Why did you make it worse? Why did you start this? Why can’t it just end?!” Noel sobbed. “Why? Why, why, why?!”

 

Misha’s eyes shut, and all the guilt fell over him. Noel always went back and forth on blaming him and not. He figured Noel didn’t want to blame him, or at least have him know. But when the cracks formed, it slipped out. And Misha was to blame. 

 

For both of them. 

 

And Misha was cracking too, even if he had to hold it together long enough to hold onto Noel as his knees gave out and he fell to the tile floor with him. 

 

Sobbing..... “Why?”

Notes:

Gosh, rip my heart out why don't you - me to myself

This is ouch, but I'm loving writing this!! and even with the pain I really hope at least one of you guys is enjoying it too!!

Hope everyone is safe and healthy too!!

I only have a lil school left so wish me luck on that tonight!

And wish the boys luck too :(

Chapter 18: I Don't Know How I Don't Just Stand Outside and Scream.........

Summary:

Noel reaches out to someone when he feels alone, and dear God, it's a mistake.

Notes:

YOOOO LOOK WHO MADE IT TO THE "CLIMAX" START?!?!? YOU DID!!! :D

So thankful if you stuck around til now! Your support always means the world to me!! Always!!

Thsi chapter is another with some TW's ofc, so pls be careful!!

WC// 1.8k wooo TW// Drinking and SA not wooo

I'm so sorry to these boys lmaooo

I'm sorry to you guys too! I know it hurts. But isn't it yummy??? I have a bodyguard incase anyway. Oliver said he'd not let you guys kill me. We'll see how that goes lol.

I love you all so much!! pls know that!! And these boys!!

Also remember when I said I might have needed a lil break? yeah, I think I just needed sleep and or a break from ONESHOTS. so I'm here and HAPPY to be, okay?! I promise!!

Song title from: Various Storms and Saints by Florence and The Machine :)

Enjoy and forgive me AND BE SAFE!!

Things were always trying to get better, but where there were cracks, there were leaks. And love that poured from them began to run dry in the name of filling it back up with vices like never before. 

 

It was only the next day after the incident happened, but Misha felt like he’d aged a million years. And if he wanted a drink, nobody was going to stop him from having one. 

 

And by one, he meant one whole bottle of Ukrainian Vodka. 

 

He splurged a bit on it, but he didn’t care, he deserved it. He’d either get better eventually and be able to earn the money back, or he’d die and not need the money anyway. Both were fine at this point. He was just tired. Whatever was best for Noel. 

 

Little did he realize, drinking that night until he was blacked out on the kitchen floor was the worst thing for Noel. 

 

Noel was meant to be asleep, but he got up, unable to. He wanted some water at minimum, and a hug from Misha at best. He figured he’d be drunk, but this time when he went out to the kitchen it felt beyond that, 

 

For a moment, Noel thought he might even be dead. 

 

He was making a weird bretahing noise though, between a whine and a snore, and he knew that he just overdid it a little. And Misha could handle a lot so… that said something. 

 

Said it was Noel’s fault Misha even pushed himself to do it. 

 

Did he mean to? Did he care? Was he worried about him or just hating life? There were so many questions. All of them lead back to Noel. This was what it felt like to be blamed. And he felt sick. 

 

He didn’t wanna feel blamed for feeling feelings. 

 

Didn’t wanna die with this memory as the last of his lover. 

 

But he’d be okay if he left. Noel had to leave. Even if it was just for a little while. To find someone who wouldn’t blame him. Who could drink and put it down all in his presence. Who wouldn’t push him to explain the things he didn’t process as much as he just knew he felt and couldn’t shed from his withering body. 

 

Where would he go though? And to who? 

 

He had so few contacts, but she scrolled them as he held back sobs, not wanting to wake up Misha. Even if he might not wanna be passed out, Noel just wasn’t ready to face things fully. Give himself over and say, you take care of me i’ll take care of you, whatever that may be. 

 

The worst part was, he knew it’d all probably be okay if he could. 

 

He just couldn’t without feeling like a burden. A chore. An annoying boy who did annoying things and made bad days like this worse.

 

Misha didn’t wanna see his face. He drank for this. To escape reality. To escape Noel. 

 

Noel was sick as he realized he only had a few contacts who he even could call let alone would. 

 

Then something caught his eye. 

 

He had Jared’s number. 

 

He blocked that out he supposed. More and more was coming back to him though. He still blamed himself. And why wouldn’t he? He talked to him about wanting a man to love him. 

 

Jared didn’t do anything predatory, he just made a mistake. 

 

He had a text he never replied to from him too. One he also never told Misha about. 

 

It read, Sorry for what happened, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I just liked you and thought you liked me back. 

 

The thing was, until it happened, at least in a platonic way, Noel did like him. He made him feel seen and heard. Made him feel like he wasn’t wrong to hold onto what he couldn’t let go. He felt like he was pretty and wanted and…and himself.

 

He moved back over into the bedroom and paced a bit as he thought it through. It wasn’t dangerous, right? He knew now. He didn’t mean to. He’d be safe physically and emotionally and mentally now, even more than before, because the lines were clear. 

 

Misha would…not approve. But Noel didn’t approve of what was going on right now. And talking to someone beyond a fucking quack was his own vice maybe. 

 

Misha didn’t have to know. 

 

He dialed him up quickly and pressed it to his ear. It only rang a few times. Then he had him on the line. 

 

“Noel!” He breathed out in a form of relief. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.” 

 

“I…I didn’t know if I’d ever talk to you again either.” Noel admitted. 

 

“I’m glad you did,” he laughed lightly. “Let me guess, the boyfriend is ignoring you?” 

 

Noel looked out the door and saw the kitchen, unmoved. “You could say that…” his arms crossed, feeling anxiety gnawing at him. 

 

“Well we can keep it friendly if you wanna hang out,” he spoke. “I know it’s late but, if you need a friend, I never wanted to take that away by making a move on you.” 

 

Making a move. Yeah. People did that. Noel thought that had to make sense. He just…. Overreacted. Remembered it wrong probably. Still didn’t remember more than the feelings. 

 

“I can meet up,” Noel felt his gut drop for some reason. “At the bar again?”

 

“It’s a bit late….” 

 

Noel looked at the clock on his beside table. He was right. Even though bars usually stayed open late, Uranium was so small, they really only stayed open that late on Fridays and Saturdays. 

 

“Oh….” Noel sniffed awkwardly. “Sorry for bothering you then.” 

 

“No wait!” Jared quickly swooped in before he could hang up in a pathetic, embarrassed huff. “Come to my place.” 

 

Noel registered it slowly. “Your place?” 

 

“Yeah, I have to live somewhere, you know?” he laughed. 

 

Noel laughed back, more nervous than actually finding it funny. 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

Noel’s response was a lot less quickly than his ‘yes’ when he finally decided. “....Okay.” 

 

“Great, I’ll text you the address.”

 

The line hung up after that and it switched to text. The bubble popped up instantly. Then there was an address on the screen not too far away. As if any address in Uranium was far away. But that felt far from Misha. 

 

He felt, even just standing there in the same apartment as him, far from Misha these days. So staying wouldn’t change it. 

 

He walked right out the door, and didn't even have to be quiet about it. Misha was out of the apartment as mentally as he was physically. And he wasn’t some cheater sneaking out anyway, it was a misunderstanding and now a platonic meetup. That's it. 

 

He got there in a small amount of time, parking on the road and walking up to his door. It was a small place, held up by blocks and siding that looked flimsy enough to blow away in a hurricane. But Noel wasn’t one to judge when his childhood home had peeling wallpaper and mold in the bathrooms you could never afford to get rid of for long.

 

He knocked on the door, and Jared came to the door with two drinks in hand. He assumed it was more cheap beer, but this time in a can and not a bottle. 

 

“Hey, Noel!” He exclaimed happily. “Now thre party can start.” 

 

“The party?” Noel shifted a bit uncomfortably, but ignored what it meant.

 

“Yeah, whatever the opposite of a pity party is,” He handed him the drink, shoving it towards him. “You don’t need more pity.” 

 

Noel could agree with that. He looked down at the drink and saw it wasn’t even opened. He hated opening caps with his nails, but it was just a pop tap. And while the idea of cheap beer made him sick again, he sucked it up in the hopes it’d taste at least a little different. 

 

If Misha could drink, he could too. At least a little. Not a lot again. 

 

Jared noticed. “Do you want me to open it?” 

 

“You’ll call me a pansy…” his knee jerk reaction fell out of his mouth.

 

“No way!” Jared assured as he took it. “I’m gay too you know, and it’s never been easy for me, especially considering I went to Saint Cassian’s eight years before you did.” 

 

“You’re eight years older than me?” Noel asked. 

 

He shrugged as he popped the top of the can. “Does it matter?” 

 

“No.” Noel said. 

 

“Then who cares?” He smiled, holding his own can up that he opened, ready for a cheers. “Cheers?” 

 

Noel zoned out for a second, feeling the absences of Будмо, something Misha always said when he drank with him. 

 

He felt like saying cheers was betraying Misha. So he didn’t. But wasn’t being there more betraying than a word? Probably. 

 

He drank to ignore it. 

 

Then Jared let them sit on his sofa. It wasn’t odd. It was a small place, it was where you’d sit. As he shifted a pillow off the couch Jared’s knee hit his and he flinched. 

 

“You okay?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah.” Noel lied. “As okay as I can be.” 

 

“The boyfriend again?” 

 

Nole sighed, but he was happy he could even still call him that. “Yeah,” he answered. “He’d be so upset if he knew I was here.” 

 

Jared scoffed. “Why would that douche care?” 

 

Noel didn’t like that. It settled over him wrong. He took another sip. 

 

“He’s not a douche.” 

 

“Mayeb you just don’t remember what someone who isn’t a docuhe is like,” Jared took his own long sip of beer. “I know the dating pool here isn’t huge, but you don’t have to settle.” 

 

“I’m…I’m not.” 

 

“Aren’t you?” He raised his brow.

 

“No.” Noel felt sure. 

 

Things were hard. Sure. No denying it. But he’d pick Misha over and over again a million times. 

 

“That’s a bit delusional Noel, and I say that as a friend.” 

 

Was he really a friend? God, this was a mistake. 

 

“I…I don’t wanna stay here if you’re gonna be trying to convince me Misha’s some devil in disguise.” 

 

“What if I didn’t convince you that, what if I just convinced you you don’t need him? I mean, he doesn’t make you happy.” 

 

“He makes me happy when I let him,” he sent back a bit harshly.

 

“Well why don’t you let me?” Jared scooted so their knees were back together. 

 

On purpose this time. 

 

And his gut dropped even lower. 

 

“You see I don’t think-” Noel gasped as he saw the can in Jared’s hand drop to the floor, forgotten about, and a pair of lips on his neck he never asked for. 

 

“Jared-” 

 

“Relax,” Jared told him as he pushed him further back against the couch. “This is for your benefit too you know.” 

 

Noel was panicking internally. But frozen on the outside. And all he wanted to do was melt into the floor to save himself. But he couldn’t. And there were tears that wanted to speak louder than his dry mouth that couldn’t scream to save himself. Wouldn’t save him either way. 

 

Jared’s hand went to his hip as he spoke into his ear. “You can thank me later, hon.”

 

And then everything was a blur.

Notes:

Wow. Okay. That hurted a lot.

But whoever said I was having fun with this regardless, yes I am. It's a lot more painful than anything else I ever wrote I think? at least fro Nisha. It's new and emotional and just... yeah. Hope that makes sense!

Ty for ten bookmarks, over 1000 hits, and over 60 kudos too!!

I might make a collection of all my multichaps so people can find them? thoughts? lmk! :)

Also before anyone asks yes I finished school in time lmaooo. Breaks is so close!!!

I wanna play mini golf, but I wanna go buiy some makeup today, so we'll see. Plus it's gonna rain I think :/ hate that.

But in a world of various storms and saints, the storms come and I only add to it, far from a saint.

Although they do call me nisha jesus ;)

love you guys!! hope you liked this!! cannot believe how close to the end we are! 7 left!!! :O Get hype!! It can't get worse can it???? (evil laugh)

Chapter 19: This Life Wasn't Meant For You And Me......

Summary:

Noel comes home searching for Misha. He only finds a broken part of him.

Notes:

HI YES IT'S ME AGAIN!! :D

HOPE THATS OKAY!!

THIS IS A SMALL ONE AND I WANNA BRING THE PAIN SOOOOO.... HERE YA GO!!

1.1k words, but perfect to me

TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!! SH and SI!!! and some druk pass out Misha and references to the past stuff :(
You can also check bottom for one more spoiler TW if needed!

be safe or I will hunt you down MYSELF!!

I got my makeup :) and I'm mini golfing tomorrow instead! Cuz I napped and today I also have shelter so! Works better!

Title from a CLASSIC ONE I ALWAYS use as LYRIC TITLES (why am I typing like a facebook mom) it's from are we done yet? by Verite. SOOOO GOOD!!

Don't kill me!! Bye :D

Noel didn’t know how he got out of there, or much of the details when he came to on the couch all alone, but he was out of there. And he was so thankful for that he could sob. 

 

He did sob.

 

His hands clutched the steering wheel and all he could think was to sob and cry and scream until everything that hurt him was out of his body. But it was never ending. And he had to get home. 

 

That was it. He would do anything. Even die if it meant making things right with Misha. He was ready, done playing games, needing it like he needed oxygen. Whatever held him back only fueled him to hit the gas harder than he’d normally do, pulling up their place and racing up the stairs with watery eyes to fall into his arms and sob where it was safe. 

 

His Misha was safe. 

 

He couldn’t see it fully before, but, his Misha loved him. 

 

He’d never do… that. 

 

He needed him, needed the comfort, and the love. And everything else, he’d do, without any qualms or hesitations. So long as he just held him. 

When he opened up the door he saw Misha was still passed out in the kitchen. 

 

He sobbed as he moved over to him, shaking his form. “Mish?” he shook him. “Misha, please wake up for me?” 

 

The Ukrainian just moaned in his half passed out state, enough energy after a while to push Noel’s hand off of him. It sounded so annoyed to him, but it was just drunk. Something Noel couldn’t separate. 

 

He couldn’t have Misha….

 

He stood up and looked down at the scene. Misha was so frustrated with him he’d rather drink. Nothing had changed. He couldn’t have him. He probably never could again. 

 

It was too late. 

 

Misha didn’t need him like he did anymore, and he needed him too much to ask from a man who was passed out in the kitchen, sounding like he’d yell at him if he dare woke up, even for something like this. 

 

He sobbed again, holding his chest. 

 

He was so fucked. 

 

And he did it to himself, didn’t he? 

 

Why couldn’t he have just not gone out? Gone to therapy with him? Not been a problem from the start?

 

He went into their bedroom and fell to the bed, crying. What else could he do? Everything was over, and the room spun with the images of all the months that passed since the first time he ran out in the rain to escape him. 

 

He’d run through anything to get him back now. 

 

But running didn’t help. He hurt Misha. Hurt them both.

 

He had to do something. End it all. For Misha’s sake and his own. He was too broken. He was always the problem, and if he never left the equation, how would it ever really be fixed? 

 

He got off the bed and went to the bathroom. He knew what there was left to do. It was just one more step further. One more step. That’s all. 

 

When he opened the cabinet though, he saw the razors were gone. Misha did that the other day, but he’d forgot. And now he was going to be left in this aching limbo? No. He couldn’t. 

 

He quickly remembered the piece of glass he’d saved. Misha’s champagne bottle remains. He’d thrown it, it had shattered, and Noel had actually thought it was a bad thing. But he was expressing himself, and now… Noel could express his one need. 

 

His need to go away before he hurt him more. 

 

He quickly went over to where he kept the glass, stupidly finding it poetic at the time and shoving it in his poetry book. Right outside the bathroom. It had a green tint to it as he held it in his palm, and the sky had started to rain in the back, and everything just felt like it was waiting for this moment. For Noel to give up. Or give in…

 

Noel went back to the bathroom and gripped it. His hands were shaking, his pre-cut wrists were trembling too. But he managed. The lines weren’t perfect, but neither were they. And they had to be done now. 

 

Stroke after stroke. Crying more and more as he did it. 

 

Was it blurring from tears or how deep he was cutting? 

 

It hurt like a bitch, but he started to just tingle after a while. The rain as a backdrop to the sorrow he felt. Maybe it was poetic afterall…

 

All he wanted was Misha. 

 

He couldn’t help but sob out his name, even as things got worse. 

 

He’d be selfish to stay. He knew that. Nobody needed him. And living wasn’t living anymore anyway. 

 

Feeling alive was only something he experience when he was loved by Misha, and whether he was or wasn’t, he hadn’t felt it since the doubt crept in. 

 

He was dead anyway….

 

He remembered the first time they met. He remembered the time they died on the cyclone and all he wanted to be was tragic. 

 

Well this was it, he hoped he was happy. 

 

Current Noel wasn’t. He just cried more for that poor boy, who had a chance out, and had it ruined by him. 

 

He remembered when they started dating, how thrilled he was, and how cute Misha looked asking him with his hat pulled off and a nervous hand through his hair. He had sweaty palms when he held his, but Noel didn’t mind. 

 

He didn’t mind anything Misha did. So he still stuck on why Misha was so minded by his things. He said it wasn’t about him for sure. But Misha could have lied. At least he had the memories of times he swore couldn’t be lies if Misha tried. 

 

Like when they graduated. Saint Cassian’s could kiss their ass. They hated it there. But Misha still wrapped him up and kissed his temple when it was all over with pride. For the place they met. For the place that in a way, as awful as it was, built them. 

 

Built them up to be built down, it seemed. Even with years in between. Like college. And moving in here. And all the moments in between too. 

 

Everything they were. 

 

Through kisses and tears. Through lust and love. Through pain and perfection. 

 

Noel did never get that engagement ring…and it hurt. 

 

But he couldn’t take it with him. 

 

And once again, for a whole new reason, with only the good memories on the edge of his mind, he jumped into them and faded away.

Notes:

Spoiler TW// Suicide Attempt

Oof. Not yay. But the TRUE climax of our story!!

Only up from here? That's how it SHOULD go right? But does it?

6 chaps left omgggg!!

I hope everyone is still enjoying and excited for it!!!

Next multichap is mostly outlined. We love a nisha bodyswap after cyclone enemies to lovers don't we :)

And FD x RTC is being worked on to hopefully post in October for Halloween!!

Love you!!! Stay safe!! See you soon!!!

Chapter 20: I Know It Isn't Pretty How I Can't Handle Everything......

Summary:

Misha discovers Noel in the bathroom.... but is it too late?

Notes:

Hiiii, don't kill me, I'm back!!

I hope if you've been waiting for this, you're back too! :D

This is 1.4k words, but it's probs worth a lot based on the cliffy I left you on! I love cliffys, and the fact that I update frequently makes them less annoying for you guys, I hope.

But I fear you wanna kill me.

TW// previous Suicide attempt, blood, puking, SA mentions

BE SAFE STILL OMFGGGGG, BE SAFE FOR THIS CHAP AND A FEW MORE TO COME OR I'LL SCREAM AT YOUUU!!

Chapter title from "Never Give Up On Me" so therws your hope lmaoo (by misterwives)

S/o to my friend who called Ukraine Ukrainia when super sleep deprived lmaooo.

And s/o to all of you for being the best people ever!! Should I bring back shoutouts for the last couple chaps?? LET ME KNOW!! :D

To the painfulness!

Misha faintly remembered the sound of Noel’s voice. But he was so out of it when he heard it, he didn’t register it until he was stirring again. 

 

It sounded so panicked. And the sounds he also remembered, sounded dangerously similar to the sound of his sobs, echoed around the bathroom like a curse. 

 

He forced himself up with a groan, his head pounding. He should have been happy for the silence. But no. After hearing that, and seeing nothing, silence made his blood run cold with panic.

 

He was still a bit drunk as he tried to stand up, stumbling, hitting his head on the fridge a little as he did. It hurt. His head always hurt these days. But he couldn’t stay on the kitchen floor regardless. Especially when the kitchen stove’s clock read that it was almost 3 in the morning.

 

He went into their room, assuming to find Noel asleep, all cried out in their bed. But he wasn’t. And that terrified him even more. 

 

Dear God, no….

 

He pivoted on his feet to rush into the bathroom, throwing the door open, and hitting something. Something hard. Something unreactive and unmoving. 

 

Fuck. 

 

“Noel?!” He cried as he turned the corner. 

 

He saw him instantly. And his panic set in firm as his throat tightened and his eyes watered. He felt so much more sober now. And his head? Maybe it still hurt, but all he felt was numbness and his heart breaking. 

 

“Noel!” Misha bent down next to him, seeing red pooling near his arm. “Jesus….Noel, why?” 

 

He knew why to some extent, but still. 

 

It wasn’t about him but he felt betrayed. Like Noel was taking their future from them. Like he was going to leave him alone to blame for it. 

 

He didn’t need to know Noel’s opinion. This was his fault. He didn’t wake up, he was passed out, and now Noel was too, for a worse reason.

 

He sobbed as he tried to shake him, but Noel still didn’t move. 

 

In a weird way, Misha felt like Noel looked like Snow White when she was laying there. Pale perfect skin, black short hair that shined, beauty beyond compare. 

 

But he wasn’t meant to rest pretty. He was meant to live. Messy or not.

 

Misha didn’t care. He just wanted him alive. Wanted to hold him. 

 

But he had to rush to get his phone. Had to call for help. Needed to-

 

He saw Noel’s phone laying on the sink, like a godsent, and grabbed it quickly. He used the emergency call button to truly call for an emergency, and then moved Noel half into his lap to look down over. 

 

“Please wake up,” Misha sniffed, a tear falling onto Noel’s limp and lifeless body. “I’ll do anything.” He really would. 

 

Blood got onto Misha’s clothing but he didn’t care. He got a look at the mess and felt sick. They were so bloody and deep and failing to clump and seal. The reason he was so out of it. Why his blood was pouring out of him like the pain in his heart. 

 

Misha felt over his neck, and thanked everything for the faintest pulse under his fingers. 

 

“Hello?” He said into the phone as soon the the recording started to play pre-pickup. “Hello, please, I need help!” 

 

“Where is your emergency?” The caller sputtered back. 

 

“Uh, um, we are at the Wilcrest apartments here in Uranium City, Apartment C3….” his hand and voice both shook with nerves. “My-my boyfriend, he is hurt badly.” 

 

“Okay, an ambulance is on the way, now tell me, What happened?” She spoke. “Is he breathing?” 

 

“Kind of,” he choked out with a sob. 

 

He never wanted to hear that outloud. It was posion and shock all together. Killing him in his own way just to say it like it was some infinite truth when this was meant to be a nightmare. 

 

If he knew Noel was at this point… he’d… he’d… 

 

He didn’t know. But he’d have done anything. He really did mean that. 

 

“Wake up, Noel,” he shook him, the dispatcher in the background like putty to his ears. “Just be okay and we’ll be okay, I promise!” 

 

His tears kept falling, and blood kept getting on him, and the dispatcher swore they were going as fast as they could, but reality wasn’t in the bounds of as fast as Misha needed it. 

 

“Please, please, please!” he sobbed more, choosing to not shake him anymore with the blood loss. His hands on his face and shoulders had blood staining them and transferring to him now. But who cared? They were stained in blood a long time ago. “Noel!”

 

Soon there was a knock on the door, and Misha’s wailing voice as loud as he could be to get their attention telling them to come in. 

 

They entered, a whole team of them, and Misha felt like nothing was real. 

 

Tears streamed. Blood streamed. But nothing was alive. 

 

This was hell. 

 

“What happened?” They asked him, assuming he’d answer about how he hurt himself. 

 

Instead all Misha could answer with was why. “I-I couldn’t love him right….”

 

The paramedics, whether homophobiclly pausing at that statement or just feeling it’s emotions, moved to Noel. They had to take him from Misha, stretcher all ready. And if Misha wanted him to live he had to let him go. 

 

But what if he let him go and he didn’t live? 

 

And this was the end? 

 

More tears streamed as he stood up with them and placed a kiss to the boys lips. Like it could wake him up or show him how much he loved him. But he had no faith in that. Not faith in anything. 

 

Misha was told he had to ride separately, which stung like a bitch, but left him in the bloodied white bathroom, wiping his teary eyes and runny nose as he looked around. 

 

Life was meant to have color. He wanted that back in their lives. But not like this. No blood red on the tiles and blood shot eyes in the mirror. 

 

Why couldn’t it be him?

 

And why tonight? Because he didn’t wake up? Would that really do this ?!

 

He saw his phone was there amongst the blood and bent down for it. Noel would want it when… if he woke up. There was blood on it he wiped off, and the phone unlocked with it. No passwords between them.

 

Misha was so worried he was shaking, but he couldn’t help but look and see if there was some clue. Some note. If it was truly on purpose… even when he knew it had to be. 

 

All he found though, was that the last thing open on his phone, was Jared’s contact. 

 

He had no idea he had Jared's contact, and Noel only told him the name once, but it stuck with on like a branding of rage. 

 

What fucking happened? He found him in the call log too, hours ago, and assumed that at the very least, Noel was talking to him. 

 

At the very most, the very worst, and at the very horrifying idea, though? He’d gone and seen him. And did more than just get seen.

 

Misha turned and puked into the toilet from just the thoughts all scrambled and the smell of fresh blood. Noel’s blood. It was on his hands and choking his throat, and he deserved it. He didn’t protect him. Didn’t even stay and hold him after he needed him, regardless of what happened. Instead, he'd chosen to comfort the cold kitchen tiles. 

 

It was the first time he threw up without meaning to in months, but the worst feeling yet. 

 

He was a sick, sick man. 

 

And even if Noel woke up, he wasn’t sure he should forgive Misha. 

 

He’d do anything to make sure he thrived again one day. No matter who with. If his smile graced his face again, if show tunes left his lips, if he felt anything other than the urge to die….

 

Thats what Misha caused. And he was sick because he was posioning himself along with Noel too. He was a monster. 

 

And the worst part was? Misha wasn’t even the worst Monster Noel was facing. 

 

Not just the world. 

 

Not just Jared. 

 

But Noel himself. 

 

He was a monster to himself, clawing at his veins like it’d free him somehow. Leaving Misha kneeling in blood and puking as he prayed, Noel didn’t free himself of the whole world.

 

Because while Misha had so little hope for himself, he had so much hope for Noel. 

 

Noel was a beautiful person.

 

And the idea he’d die because Misha was jealous of that one day? Should only really kill Misha. 

At least it would if life was fair and love wasn’t so unkind.

Notes:

*mr krabs bell ringing meme* FIVE CHAPTERS, WE GOT FIVE CHAPTERS LEFT EVERYBODY!!

How can I fix it in that time? Idk

Will it get worse before it gets better STILL? yes.

Should you kill me? No.

IF YOU KILL ME HOW CAN I WRITE MY NEXT MUTLICHAP? it'll be like 16 chaps and hopefully super fun!! You need me whether you like it or not so :P

Lmao, I love you guys!!

I did go mini golfing and won by 2! :D and I also ran and errand and avoided school work, and I had a tiny bit of ice cream, and therapy and got mail and sold something and yes yes yes!

Help imagine if someone bought something from me and doxxed me cuz I was an AO3 writer who hurt nisha lmaoooooooooo.

Anyway, love ya a bunch, have some hope, and see you next time!!

(don't forget if you want a shout out to come back/get one, leave a comment!)

BYEEEEE!!

Chapter 21: Mama Used To Say “Boy, Love Isn’t Easy It’s Hard.”……

Summary:

Misha shows up at the hospital, but he’s not alone.

Notes:

Hello everyone

I asked if you wanted this first thing and you guys said yes (aka one of you lmaooo)

I hope this pain is equally as yummy as the rest.

Say hi to mama bear Claudia again :)

TW// SI and all past chapter stuff / hospital

Word count is 1.1k so short, probs how I wrote it so fast last night after posting BUT still good. Perfectly length for this one. I think.

Song is Love Is (Not) Easy by Chase Atlantic :)

Enough of boring ol’ me! To the boys, the drama, and the pain!

 

Misha had never regretted not proposing to Noel Gruber more in his life. 

 

More than when it hurt Noel even. 

 

Because not getting to go in the ambulance, showing up like nothing but the person who caused it to the hospital front desk and being denied everything killed a piece of him he knew would never grow back.

 

Luckily, someone had access. Noel’s mom. They had called her and there she stood right in the waiting room with tears speckling her eyes like freckles. 

 

“Claudia!” Misha cried as he approached her. 

 

But when she turned around, her eyes dared him to. 

 

“You really came here?” Claudia asked him, like his audacity was through the roof. “And you’re gonna come to me? Like I’m not the mother of the boy you tried to kill?!” 

 

Misha’s heart broke even harder than before. In fact it was missing completely. In the ICU with Noel.

 

“I-I would never try and kill мій поет!” Misha’s heart was racing and his breath was trying to keep up. “I-I would never hurt him.”

 

“You already did!” She exclaimed, not caring much for the other families in the waiting room. Her whole family that was left was half-dead. Why should she care about anyone else?!

 

Especially Misha.

 

“I…..” 

 

“I knew I couldn’t trust you with my baby,” She cried, pained like a true mother would be, hands on her knees as she folded in sobs. “I knew I couldn’t, but I let him go back to you, and I should have kept him with me! Where he belongs! Where he was safe!”

 

Her voice got louder and Misha looked around at everyone looking at him. Judging him. Thinking he was a monster. 

 

As if she could read his mind. 

 

“You’re a monster!” She seethed at him. “And I wish it was you in there instead!” 

 

Misha didn’t know what to say. But he felt every word ricochet off the deepest part of him, chipping away at him as he tried not to lose it. Not now. 

 

“I hate you, and I wish you never got near him!” She cried, wounded in the deepest part of her, needing to take it out on someone. 

 

If not the god she believed in, if not herself, if not her Noel. Then him. The boy who started the mess. Sure, he cleaned one up when Noel was younger too, but that didn’t change her son was in a hospital bed, possibly dead right now. 

 

“I just wanna know he’s okay…” Misha sobbed dryly. 

 

“No,” Claudia said simply. “You didn’t care enough to stop it.” 

 

“St- Claudia, I-I didn’t know he was-” 

 

“Tell me something,” She stopped him, eyes glassed and arms crossed. “Where were you when my baby was slitting his wrists into minced meat?!” 

 

He swallowed hard and then sobbed when his throat got too tight to hold it. She was right. He could have stopped it. And…maybe he did start it. 

 

Maybe Jared wasn’t enough. 

 

Maybe Jared would have never been a thing if Misha hadn’t fucked up. 

 

He’d give his life right now to take it back. 

 

To watch those movies with Noel in his lap. To hear those songs in the car when they drove to go get ice cream. To hear Noel sing in the shower. To see Noel smile and kick his feet, rolled over on their bed, critiquing whatever he wore that day. To see his face when he brought him flowers….

 

Why did he stop bringing him flowers? 

 

His chest hurt. Claudia was right. He deserved this. 

 

“Just tell me he’s alive.”

 

She let out a cruel sound of pain and irony. “I don’t know right now.” 

 

“When did they say we could know?” Misha asked, tatsing tears. 

 

“We?” She expressed back. “Theres no we, and if my son lives through this, he should make it clear theres no you two either.” 

 

“Wait so-”

 

“I told you! You don’t get to know about my boy!” She cried. “You knew how he was for months, and you did nothing! So no! I don’t care about how you wanna act now!” 

 

“I didn’t know he’d- he’d do this!” Misha cried with a stutter. “I swear!” 

 

Her eyes became black ice. “Get out.” 

 

“No I-” 

 

“Leave!”

 

Misha’s jaw tightened with desperation as he yelled out. “Goddammit Claudia, I love him!” 

 

Claudia snapped at that point, a true scene of grief as she let her open palm make contact with his face. His sweet baby-like cheeks were red as a tomato, the slap of her life, going to the only target she had to take things out on. Whether right or wrong. 

 

Stinging plam clenched at her side she screamed. “You. Can’t. Love. A. Corpse!”

 

Misha was bent over from the force, and it stung like a bitch. But he deserved it. So he took it. 

 

“I can’t make you leave this hospital, but I can promise you, as long as Noel cannot protect himself, I will!” she huffed. “So fuck off!”

 

Misha’s guilt was eating his insides now. There was nothing in his stomach. His head ached. His body felt like a ghosts as every part of him numbed. There was ringing in his ear that didn’t stop. 

 

He moved away from her, and headed for the door. 

 

“Sir are you okay?” A nurse asked him as he passed. 

 

“No.” he simply said as he moved past her. 

 

Because how could he be?! How could anyone?! Noel was….Noel could be dead and it really would be his fault wouldn’t it? 

 

Noel would be fine without him. 

 

And while he struggled in highschool, to the point he almost turned to such things, Misha was just what the crash symoblized. He’d have had the choir. He’d have been fine. He’d have been best had he never had Misha. 

 

But could Misha say the same? 

 

The thought made him sob. 

 

No! Of course not.

 

Everything he fucking said to start this! It wasn’t real. He was jealous and needy and he wanted to feel happiness the way Noel did. In the little things. The only thing he loved was Noel and…and because Noel loved he caused this?! 

 

He could get sick again. 

 

He missed his home. He missed Ukraine. He missed when life meant more. 

 

Now life was just about surviving. What he thought it was before when it all started. Only he wished that was as far as it went. 

 

He was out in the hall, down against the wall, sitting on his bottom. He felt like everything was over. And it should have never started. 

 

He felt a weight in his pocket. 

 

The pills Misha didn’t even know if Noel was taking anymore. He brought them incase they needed to know his meds, or maybe it was a symbol for something. He didn’t know. 

 

But now when he looked at them, he saw fate. 

 

Noel saved them for him. 

 

So they could go to the otherside together. Where nothing could hurt them. And love was  kind.

 

Notes:

Do you guys think Claudia was right to be like that since she’s his mom? Or too far regardless?

Is she RIGHT?! :( I don’t think so

I’m pretty sure if Noel wakes up and saw Misha did something, esp with his pills, it’d be the glass cutting all over again

The rest of the story is all hospital so hopefully nobody is too triggered by the setting who wants to be here! :)

I’m excited to see if you guys like this though, means a ton when you guys show me love!!

4 chaps left let’s go!!

CYA :D

Chapter 22: There's Not A Pill To Take That Could Erase You Babe.....

Summary:

Misha finds out Noel has a setback, and has one himself.

Notes:

CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW CLOSE WE ARE TO BEING DONE?? HOW ARE WE AT THIS CHAPTER?? OMGGG.

Hi hi hi, yes it's me!! Yes, it's LIU! Yes yes!!

LIU stands for Lovers In Uganda, ofc, right? Nope. Love is unkind. And there's love that is very kind here. The whole world is. My babies. :(

HELP MY I KEY WAS STICKY FOR A SECOND AND I FEARED WE RETURNED TO THE STICKY I ERA BUT IT'S ALL GOOD.

But these boys aren't.

Title from the song I'll Take The Blame by Verite OMG we stan her here

TW// Hospitals, Surgery mentions, SI, and Heights

WC is..... drum roll.... 1.2k lmao I acted like it was some big deal what AM I?

Am I okay rn, I feel like, uppity. Send help? Or don't it's kinda a vibe.

Still not going to do school haha, gonna regret it. B) cool emoticon.

I've been making beads, gotta get better tho, so I'll do that instead.

ENJOY YOUR FOOD EVERYONE NOM NOM ANGST TIME!!!!

Misha’s palm shook as he tried to open the bottle. Was it a sign he shouldn’t do it? He had no idea, but the tears didn’t help him see how to open it either. 

 

How many Porzac did he need to take to die anyway. Could he just hit the fucking bottle against the wall until it broke like he did? He had so many questions and he wanted to not have to answer any of them. 

 

Then, the sound of a door swooshing like normal, caught his attention. Because out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman. A nurse. 

 

“Excuse me?” She asked him, unable to see what he was opening. 

 

He sniffed, trying to be together long enough to kindly make her fuck off. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Are you the man who found the man who was brought in for the uh….self inflicted wounds?” She tried to word it best she could. Some things didn’t have a best though. 

 

Misha’s heart dropped and he swallowed. “Yes….” 

 

What was she going to tell him? And why didn’t he open the bottle and take it all down before she could tell him he was a murderer? 

 

“He’s stable right now,” She said. 

 

Misha’s ears went out, and all he could do was sob. The bottle fell to the wayside, and he tucked his head into his knees. He didn’t care about being together anymore. Noel wasn’t dead. At least yet. And that was worth sobbing his heart out in thanks for. 

 

“I thought you couldn’t tell me anything….” Misha sniffed as his head peeked out from the side. 

 

“Oh, well, you see we were hoping the information would allow you to give us some of the medical details his mother couldn’t,” She explained. “We had her consent for this moment.” 

 

He didn’t even care it was some sort of trade-off. He was happy for the information. He’d have given anything no matter what, including organs from his own body, but he was fine with this,s too. 

 

He eyed the bottle that rolled against the wall’s corner and realized what he had to do. Whether Noel made it out or not, he couldn’t use the pills. He needed to give it to them so they could help make a better medical plan for him. 

 

“He’s on Prozac,” Misha said as he picked up the bottle and looked down at it in mourning of his own. “I don’t know when he stopped taking it but… there’s almost a full bottle here and he picked it up a month ago.” 

 

The nurse nodded, leaning over with her hand out to take the bottle. 

 

And his chance of escape. 

 

But still, like promised, he handed it over for Noel. 

 

And cried more after she left for all the emotions he couldn’t process on his own. He liked being tucked away. It was like life didn’t exist. And none of this happened. And he wanted more of that…..forever. 

 

He took the only other thing he had out of his pocket and opened a text message to the choir group chat. He told them about what was happening. Then shut off his phone. 

 

He had no energy for it. 

 

All he had energy for was to sob and hope and die a little more every second as he eventually fell asleep on the cold floors of the hospital, waiting for anything to come. 

 

He was awoken later however, much less calmly. Startled and terrified. Not knowing where he was or what happened.Then when the memory hit, feeling horrible and wishing for more of that sweet sleep. 

 

He saw Noel in a dream he thinks. Remembered it partly. Remembered seeing him smile. 

 

He’d only see him with a tube down his throat now. 

 

He sobbed for that too. 

 

Sobbed for it all. 

 

But he needed to do more than just sob. He needed to figure out what was going on now. He’d given them the meds but did that help? Could anything? He was stable last he heard, but as he checked his phone, he saw four hours had passed somehow. 

 

He wiped his face and went to bargain with the front desk when he opened the door partially and heard someone talking. 

 

And a name he knew too well. 

 

“Noel Gruber, patient in ICU?” The one nurse asked. 

 

“Yeah, him,” The other said. “We need you to scrub up and get to OR stat to assist on his surgery.” 

 

“Which OR?” The nurse asked him. “And what surgery?” 

 

“Too much blood loss, caught late liver issues from it, he needs a resection. OR 2, Liz, they’re expecting you.”

 

“Got it!” She rushed away, past the door and past Misha. 

 

The door swung back and forth as Noel watched her rush off

 

Misha didn’t know what that all meant. But it wasn’t good. His blood ran cold. Surgery. He wasn’t stable anymore. There was a problem. Blood loss. Operating room. ICU.

 

He felt faint and moved back down to the floor again, hand guiding him down on the wall. 

 

He got his phone out again and googled what a liver resection was. He could have got lost in it, but instead, went numb. 

 

It was too much. 

 

It was all just too. Damn. Much.

 

And he couldn’t take it here anymore than Noel could, mentally and physcially. He was done. He’d broken Noel, and now nothing had color. Nothing had meaning. There was no reason to be alive without his hand to hold. He was truly, truly done . 

 

Part of him content with the ending too. Better than having to deal with it all. Show up to a funeral and get run out. Drink himself to death instead one day by accident. Dying of heartbreak was real, right? It felt like it. Noel would think it’s poetic, but he had no love for it without him. 

 

He wished he told him that. 

 

When everything went bad and Noel thought he hated everything, why didn’t he tell him he loved them for him? That was beautiful too. And while he needed to love his own things sometimes, nothing was better than loving for another. 

 

He was so wrong, and so dumb, and so angry. 

 

He finally put the blame somewhere other than innocent, sweet Noel, and it was on himself. Pure hatred. And utter despair. 

 

He sent one more text to the group chat, sweet and simple. 

 

Don’t blame him, blame me. Don’t mourn me, mourn him. Don’t forgive me, forgive him. 

 

Misha turned his phone fully off now and put it in his pocket where it’d be safe. At least for now. Then he stood up. And headed in one direction. Not towards the waiting room. He couldn’t wait for Noel to die. But he went to the staircase, where the stairs took him high enough to make the cars below look like toy ones. 

 

He breathed in, the first real breath he took since he awoke on the floor and stepped into the open air. It was refreshing. But it didn’t heal. 

 

Time was all a blur. It could have been 30 seconds or thirty minutes. He had no idea.

 

There used to be bars to stop people he could see, but the old rundown town had an old rundown roof that nobody ever used. And no repairs were made either. There was one spot, perfectly left alone, where he could stand and offer himself to the ground like an altar. 

 

His next breath was shaky, looking down so close, feeling like he’d jump out of his skin before he could jump. Thinking of alcohol, and rage, and Noel. All the things flashing before him like a picture show. One that had no good ending. 

 

One that ended with his last breath.

The one that was just one last breath away.

Notes:

How was the meal? The wheatthins i had while posting this were good so....hopefully your angst was too.

Idk what is going on I watched a movie and napped and my whole days off balance but here I am, typing badly and posting gay babies from RTC. Gosh I love them.

Idk what to say :( poor Misha

Noel's sad too but like, wer'e on Misha POV rn.

What's gonna happen next? You tell me!

And I'll tell YOU next time :D

Don't kill me, byeee!!

Chapter 23: I Noticed How Much You Gave Up......

Summary:

Misha has a choice to make on the roof.

Notes:

Why am I still up and writing this?

Why is it only like 1.1k?

I'm so sorry guys pls don't hate me, this is more of a catalyst than anything else.

I'm so scared my writing been so shit lately, someone pls help confirm or deny so I can know what to do.

Here's a chap you've been waiting for, all your guesses...lock them in!

TW// SI and attempt. Self-Hatred. Surgery and death mentions with blood.

Chapter title from Love Is Unkind... because why not ;) (yes I'm fixing last chap)

I HOPE IT'S NOT SHIT, ENJOY!!

One….single…breath.

 

To will him off the ledge. To pull the music into a crescendo. To say “C’est la vie.” 

 

It’d be shaky, but he could do that. 

 

Just as he started to draw in however, he heard something. 

 

“Stop!”

 

He turned to confirm the voice belonged to the only ginger he actually believed the stereotypes about. Soulless? Yet a friend. And…kind in the moment as she called out to try and save him. 

 

She could never. But she didn’t know. 

 

And the rest of the choir behind her? They couldn’t either. Nor as a group. The choir wasn’t complete without Noel. 

 

He sobbed as he turned back. 

 

“Misha!” She called again, the boldest of the bunch. 

 

“What, Ocean?!” He shouted, angery tears falling as he kept his eyes on the far below ground. “Of all the times to annoy me!” 

 

“I’m not here to annoy you!” She called. 

 

“We’re here to help you…..” A more fragile voice called Penny's, as she approached and gently placed her one hand on his arm. He flinched but she didn’t pull away. “We’re your friends and we can’t let you do this.” 

 

“If you were my friends you’d let me,” Misha cried, tugging a bit on the arm. “And if you were Noel’s friend you’d push me right off.” 

 

Ocean grabbed his other arm and despite his size, his state was weak enough, and they could drag him back a bit from it. He fought. He did. But he was never strong enough. It’s why he was here. Why he shouldn’t be allowed to be here much longer. 

 

He fell onto his ass, some dust flying up a bit, and just giving up. He slumped into it. He belonged in the dirt. He pulled his knees up and rested into it all. 

 

“What happened?” Constance asked.

 

“Yeah we got a text and all got over here,” Ocean said. “You wouldn’t answer us!” 

 

Ricky came over and, out of all of them, was the one to offer Misha a tissue. Misha took it to be nice, but he didn’t need it. He needed to die. 

 

“Noel’s gonna die.” 

 

Penny swallowed back how hard that was to hear and asked. “But…why? What happened?”

 

“He hurt himself….” 

 

Constance gasped. Her hand fell up over her hand and she slumped down next to him, making him look at him. 

 

“Does any of this have to do with the night I found him?” 

 

“Found him?” Ricky asked. 

 

Constance adjusted her glasses and felt the guilt wave over her. “I found him on the road, drunk and…not good.” 

 

The choir all looked around, silently looking for more information. But they had none. They clearly weren’t present. Good friends. Or any help over the last…however long this was. 

 

“We should have handled this like a choir.” 

 

Misha scoffed. “A highschool choir would just leave eachother alone after highschool.” 

 

Ocean knelt now. “Not this choir. Okay?” 

 

“Yeah, we’re a team.” Ricky added in.

 

Misha’s tears kept welling up, and this time his voice cracked. “.....me and Noel were supposed to be a team too.….” he broke down a bit more at the way he failed him, face pressed tight against his knees. 

 

“Talk to us,” Constance rubbed his arm. “So we can help.” 

 

“You can’t! Noel’s in there fucking-!” He exploded before hiding into his shell again and closing his eyes. 

 

When he closed them he saw the OR. The scrubs. The gloves. The blood. 

 

It would be a crime scene.

 

And he’d be charged with the crime. 

 

“I’m sorry……” 

 

“Don’t be,” Penny expressed honestly. “Just talk to us.” 

 

“I can’t….” he felt that numbness again as his head lulled. 

 

Heavy. It was all too heavy. 

 

“Well you can’t die either.” Ocean added. “We won’t let you. We should have been here before, but we're here now. Okay?” 

 

Misha shook his head. “I have to die…you don’t get it.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I cannot live just to watch Noel die!” His voice cracked yet again, painful in his scratchy throat. 

 

Ocean put her small hand on his knee where he was no longer placed and looked him in the eyes. Terror becoming kindness. Something he’d joke about being rare in another time.

 

“Misha, you cannot die just for Noel to live.” 

 

Everything hit him like a truck. He was heavy, he was light, he was dead in spirit for a moment. She couldn’t do that. It flipped a switch and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t the painless or easy option. 

 

If Noel lived….

 

Now he was held to think of that.

 

Noel would live just to try and kill himself. He knew it. Not if Misha died at the hands of all this would he ever have a will again. He’d fell….

 

Well fuck….

 

He’d feel like Misha did now. 

 

He would rather live than make him feel that way. Even if he was sure the universe hated him enough to kill Noel. Would that be what he wanted, or what was best anyway? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t if he died too. 

 

He could die after he proved the choir wrong. 

 

And even if he had to leave Noel first, at least he protected him first before he went and did another selfless thing again.

 

“You need to be there when he wakes up.” Ocean said. 

 

He felt a sense of the selflessness come back with selfhate. “But I hrut him.” 

 

“No, you love him,” Ocean said. “And there’s so much proof of that.” 

 

“I…I didn’t marry him…” he looked down sadly. 

 

“Well you never will if you don’t stop this urge to die!” 

 

A shaky breath was let out and all he could think was he didn’t know how he was somehow still breathing after it all.

 

“Fine….” Misha said, hearing them all let out a breath. “ For now.” he made sure to add. 

 

“We can work with that.” Ocean smiled at him. 

 

‘Why don’t we wait in the waiting room? You can tell us about Noel.’

 

Misha looked at Ricky. “Claudia hates me.” 

 

“So we’ll find a different waiting room.” Constance said. “Whatever it takes.” 

 

Whatever it took?

 

What would it take for Noel to live if not a sacrifice of his own life. If not all the times he tried to help him. If not all the times they escaped this kind of fate acting yet again in some cosmic luck. 

 

If holding on did it, he would. 

 

But if holding on just left them all to sit around and tell him he was wrong for wanting to be with the only boy he ever loved enough to die for? Then he didn’t wanna be right. 

 

He had to be wrong. 

 

And with every hope in his body as he went down those steps, away from his demise, Noel needed to live. 

Notes:

Choir spotting!!!! Told you you'd see them!!

Poor Misha, but the choir's right, Noel would die all over again if he found out he lived only for Misha to die.

FUCK Romeo and Juliet, we're not playing that!

Speaking of shakespere though, the next multichap I'm planning with the bodyswap?? Title reveal!! "To Be Or Not To Be" :)

Anyways, sorry If I'm wrong and it's not all bad, I'm spiraling a lil about worry over it. But pls be honest too!!

I LOVE YOU GUYS, AND MY LOVE IS KIND SO DON'T WORRY!!

Up from here :)

Chapter 24: Laying In Hospital Beds, Joy And Misery......

Summary:

Misha hears knews about Noel.

Notes:

HELLOOOOO!!

I sometimes come up with nicknames for fics and fic readers beyond like my general acronyms and stuff. But this one didn't have one? I think you guys deserve one tho!

You are now the kind ones :)

Because you're sooo much kinder than love is in this story and I adore you so much!!

This is the second to last chapter my kind ones, can you believe it? Are you buckled in and ready? I hope so!

Maybe I was kind here too ;)

WC is 2.2k woooooo

Title from Florence and the Machine's Hospital Beds :) fitting

Also did you see I hit 150 oneshots?? Yeah I'm madwickedawesome lmaoo

TW// Hospitals, Needles, Injuries, SI and stuff from before!

Also we hit 65 kudos!! if we could hit 70 by the end of the month with the last chapter soon and all It'd be so cool but no pressure!!

To the chapter with all my love!

The choir needed Noel to pull through for Misha’s sake just as much as for Noel’s sake. 

 

Misha sat with them in the one waiting room, choir members around him, shaking and bouncing his knee with nerves as they waited. It was quiet except for cries. From Misha and the others at times, too. 

 

One of the choir members always kept a hand on Misha’s shoulder. To keep him grounded. And remind him he wasn’t alone. 

 

But Misha just wanted Noel. 

 

Somehow, after hours of waiting, it turned out…Noel wanted Misha, too. 

 

“Is anyone in this waiting room by the name of Misha Bachynksyi?” A nurse with a clipboard asked around the general room. 

 

Misha bounced off his seat and went over. This was either bad or good. Maybe it was both. He was so scared he shook even further. The imagination he hadn’t used in a while came to life with visions of Noel dead on the OR and Claudia allowing them to deliver the blow to him with at least some justice in mind. 

 

“Wh-what is it?” He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t know. 

 

“We need to go somewhere private to tal-”

 

“No!” Misha exclaimed, before covering his mouth in sobs. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, I’m just so scared.” 

 

The poor boy was shaking like a leaf still, his knees now wobbling, and the choir came to his side to hold him up just before he fell over. 

 

“Nurse, is there any way you could just…tell us here? We’re all his close friends, and this is his boyfriend, and every second that passes is just agony.” 

 

Misha could agree to that, with teary eyes, he begged. “Please….” 

 

If he was dead, Mihsa was dead too. At the very minimum inside himself. At the most, he’d just go back to the roof or run into the road. He wasn’t picky. But he had to know his fate and how it tied to Noels. 

 

The nurses sighed, clearly feeling for him, and ushering him at least around the corner of the waiting room. 

 

He went without the choir, although they sent him the few feet away with a confident look of strength. Praying for him to handle it well. For there to be nothing bad to handle. 

 

“I’m not actually here to give you any medical updates,” She explained. “It’s not in my rights to do so.” 

 

Misha’s heart sank. “Then…wh-what are you…?”

 

“I’m not here with an update, I’m here with a message.” She explained. 

 

He dry sobbed as he imagined what came next. 

 

He’s dead. 

 

“From his mother?”

 

“No,” She shook her head with a faint smile after. “From him.” 

 

Misha’s sobs rang out. He was talking. He was alive. Even if his message was ‘fuck off’ he’d take it. He’d take anything. As long as Noel’s chest fell up and down and his heart beat, it didn’t have to do it all for him. 

 

The choir heard the sound of the tears and winced, terrified it wasn’t happy. 

 

But it was. It was a wave of relief that fell out of him like a tsunami over a dried out land of hopes and wishes. Watering it to life again.

 

“You heard him say that?” Misha’s voice cracked partway through and he didn’t care. 

 

“Yes,” She told him. “He wants to see you.” 

 

More tears. He didn’t care why. He’d get to see him. And Claudia couldn’t stop him. 

 

His knees almost buckled again so he leaned against the tile walls of the hospital, arms up, face inside of them, racked with sobs through his whole body. 

 

“I can give you the room number whenever you’re ready…” The empathetic woman spoke to him, giving him time. 

 

Misha needed a second, even if he wanted to see Noel. 

 

They were both meant to be dead right now. And here he was sobbing into a white wall, of a hospital that managed to save him? 

 

Life wasn’t real. 

 

He deserved Hell and somehow he was in heaven. He jumped. He had to have done that. Right? That’s all that makes sense. 

 

He wiped his face because either way he needed to protect Noel from his emotions. “What room?” he peaked out to ask. 

 

She told him, and offered him some vague directions to it. He maneuvered the hallways with precision and opened the door to find Noel laying there, a bit weary, and his mom in the chair. 

 

“Misha-” 

 

“Mom, don’t,” Noel coughed. 

 

She wasn’t going to argue if it made Noel worse. But she did glare at him. Hard. 

 

“Give us some time, mother,” Noel asked weakly. “Please.” 

 

“Just… be careful not to work yourself up.” 

 

“I won’t,” he promised. 

 

She swiped back some of the hair on his forehead and kissed him. 

 

“I love you,” she spoke as she walked past Misha. 

 

Then it was just the pair of them. Two boys in love. Two boys in peril. Two boys with… hope? They didn’t know. 

 

“Misha?” Noel held his hand out for him, his good arm.

 

Misha rushed forward to take it, careful of the IV in his hand still. Then he took Claudia’s seat. And then, he sobbed. 

 

He wanted to be brave, but this only taught him he wasn’t strong. He was always a fraud when it came to that. He was weak. Weak for the ones he loved. And he couldn’t help or apologize for it. 

 

Noel held back his own tears at seeing the boy cry. He used to tense, but he was too tired too. Now he just frowned. 

 

Misha kissed his hand that he leaned into. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“No, don’t be,” Noel said. “Emotions are…real.” 

 

It was so simple, but so true. Maybe too true.

 

“My mom told me she wouldn’t let you know anything, so that couldn’t be easy… assuming you still care.” 

 

Misha’s eyes met his. “Of course I care.” 

 

Noel took a slow, deep breath as he stared ahead. “Part of me wondered before you came in here if you waited around just to make sure I died.” 

 

Misha swallowed a sob upon hearing that. “Never.” he promised. “Easy or hard, I never stopped loving you.” 

 

“Until…?” 

 

“Until nothing.” Misha held his hand tighter, on top of being careful of his wounds. “I’ll love you for as long as I can have you.” and forever after that, too.

 

Noel’s facet twisted as he shifted in the bed. “You still want that?” 

 

Noel looked so sad. So tiny. So frail. Halfway to the death he feared with bags under his eyes and skin more porcelain than Jane Doe. 

 

A tear fell onto Noel’s hand and dripped down between them. “Always.”

 

“I couldn’t say a lot of things before, but I think that’s one thing that scared me, and kept me from healing,” Noel explained. “It’s still not easy to talk about, but I mean… I can’t bring you here after almost killing myself and not say anything.” 

 

“You can take your time.” 

 

“No, I have to,” Noel continued. “I was so scared you didn’t love me, or if you did, it was in a way where you loved what I could be, and not what I was at heart. That I was some temporary settlement of a partner, who was too flawed to be forever.” 

 

Misha cried for that. Noel did too. 

 

“I don’t think I explained it right either, and It’s my fault.” Misha’s lips pursed in emotions. “It was never you who annoyed me, it was life.” 

 

Noel looked at him. “Our life?” 

 

“No,” Misha shook his head fervently. “I was jealous you were happier than me, and I thought the right thing was dulling your shine. I just needed to brighten mine. I’m so sorry. I was awful, but never because I didn’t love you, because I fucked up.” 

 

Noled sighed. “You don’t have to say that.” 

 

“I do!” Misha exclaimed. “And I mean it.” 

 

“But you’re not the only one who fucked up,” Nole said. “I’m the one who wanted to leave you without a word.” 

 

“Leave me? Or die?” Misha’s voice went low and cold at the idea he could still leave him, something he forgot the second he saw him alive. 

 

“Die….” Noel cried. “I had a bad night, and I needed you… and I-” his breath stuttered as he started to cry. 

 

“Shhh,” Misha hushed him as he brushed some tears away from him. He still had a breathing connector into his nostrils and he needed to be kinder to his body p[ost-operation. “You’re okay.” 

 

“I wasn’t though…..” 

 

“I think I know what happened.” Misha looked down. 

 

“How could you-” 

 

“Phone.” he just said. 

 

Noel knew he was right. 

 

Then he cried a more silent cry, so Misha couldn’t try and stop him, and his torso stopped screaming. 

 

“I’m so sorry….” he cried. “You say you fucked up, and you did, but everything after that moment is on me!”

 

“How?” 

 

“Because I couldn’t forgive you!” Noel exclaimed. “Not in time to not be destroyed from the inside out by it….” 

 

“I forgive you,” Misha swallowed. “And I wanna work to get you to forgive me.” 

 

“Misha….” Noel looked at him in the eyes. “I already do.” 

 

“Wh-what?” 

 

“I was coming home to beg you to forgive me, do whatever it took to make it right, and now you’re here and I don’t deserve your kindness, how could I turn it away?” Noel cried harder. “How could I ever want to regardless?” 

 

Misha leaned forward, over him to pull him into a hug as they both cried. Whispering sweet comforts into his messy hair as he held him gently. Wanting him to know that destruction was not a final destination. It was a place that made people come together and pick up the pieces. Even more than ever before. 

 

He’d be there to do that with him. No doubts. If they lived they lived to be better. They had to.

 

“We’ll fix everything, make sure you are healthy and our relationship is too.” Misha explained. “I’ll never give up on you, or us, as long as we’re alive.” 

 

They came so close to not being, it felt even heavier on his tongue.

 

Noel held him back, each hand on a shoulder blade. “Promise?”

 

“I promise.” 

 

“Promise me one more thing?”

 

“Anything,” Misha pulled back a little. 

 

“Hold me tonight?” he swiped at his own face. “I don’t wanna leave your side.” 

 

“I’ll never leave your side.” 

 

Noel had another tear fall. “You’ll have to for a while.” 

 

Noel wouldn’t look at him, and he trusted him, but his heart skipped a beat with confusion and worry. 

 

“What do you-” 

 

“I agreed to an inpatient program to get better,” Noel told him. “I think it’s my best chance.” 

 

Misha’s weight on his chest shifted. 

 

It wasn’t bad. It was probably something he needed. But it felt…so official. 

 

He’d support anything he needed. Should probably get some help himself in some way too. But to get him back just to send him off? It stung in the most bitter sweet ways he knew. 

 

He’d trade a few weeks for a lifetime though. Whatever made his Noel whole again. Whatever found him a place in that wholeness again without any of the pain. 

 

“I’m proud of you for wanting to do something.” Misha told him. 

 

“I hope it works.” Noel said, seeming nervous. 

 

Misha advised for him to scoot over as he got into the bed with him. He positioned Noel over his hear so he could hear it beating. Never doubt who was by his side and holding him like something precious no matter where he’d go the next day. 

 

“I know you can do anything you set your mind to,” Misha’s watery voice said. “You’re the best person I know.” 

 

“What if I’m too broken now?” 

 

Misha looked down to look at Noel. He was looking at him, one hand on his other pectoral muscle. 

 

“You were never broken to start with,” Misha told him. “You were hurt. And you were human.” 

 

“I don’t wanna be human, I just wanna be okay…..” 

 

“You will be,” Misha’s arms settled around him. “You will be, I promise.” 

 

“And I’ll still be yours?” 

 

Something was still holding back Noel’s full anxiety, even if it was better, Misha could hear it iun his voice and see it in his brown, wide eyes. 

 

“You never stopped.” He assured him. 

 

He looked from his eyes to his lips. 

 

He was real. They had color. They had everything he wanted to consume. 

 

He leaned down to gently kiss him, feeling the way Noel kissed him back for a short and simple kiss. It wasn’t meant to be huge. It was meant to be a promise. 

 

One, they’d do everything they could to keep this time. 

 

Anything to fix what hurt them in the first place,e they didn’t know they ever had to fear, but took them down so quickly they should have been.

 

The pair was alright for the first time in a long time. Not okay, not fully, but in the moment. How could they not be when compared to everything they faced the last few months?

They felt a shift, drifting off into sleep on the bed as they marinated on the fact that this time, when they closed their eyes, they’d actually wake up against all the odds. And wake up together.

Notes:

:D Look who's alive!!

BOTH OF THEM!!

Told y'all fuckers you could trust me /withlove

You guys think I'm evil and I am but not THAT evil. No romeo's here people! They're gonna try and heal.

Can they do it? What's left in ONE chapter? What about the choir?

Well, tune in for the last chapter whenever I write it I suppose! Maybe even tonight ;)

Also there is not epilogue to this story but check the Bottom AN to see what I say I think happens to them after LIU!!

LOVE YOU MY KIND ONES !!!! SEE YOU ONE LAST TIME!! GONNA MISS YOU!!

Chapter 25: Flowers Are Blooming In Antartica......

Summary:

Noel wakes up alone and scared. But does he need to be? Or is he just used to it?

Notes:

Hello, kind ones!!

1.2k words to finish us off which also gives us just over 50k overall!! :D Not bad if I do say so myself!

TWs is basically a panic attack and mentions of past injuries and attempts

Mild comparivitiley!!! Which means it's a good or at least bittersweet ending! LIKE WE WANTED RIGHT?!

If you liked this, feel free to check out some of my other nisha stuff! And my upcoming multichap "To Be Or Not To Be"!!!

My cat just walked into the room, and it's super early, and I'm still just vibing and smiling!

Title is from Flowers Are Blooming In Antartica by DEZI cuz damn it's cold but look how they grow!!

Our boys :') Enjoy them this final time here, and if you're as bittersweet about it as me, shed a tear or two!

Noel woke up the next morning, hoping to bury his face into Misha’s chest and inhale his scent with enough veracity to take it with him in the weeks they were apart. 

 

When Noel turned over though, all he got a whiff of was a pillow. 

 

His eyes opened to the bright room, and even though it hurt, he didn’t squint. He was all eyes looking around the room. It was sterile, and he was alone. 

 

Of course. 

 

He should have known he was stupid to think Misha meant it. 

 

He didn’t mean it at all. He just wanted to see him one last time before he ran. He had to have ran. Noel would run. He was a mess. And now? What was he going to go to help for? To mourn the boy he loved the whole time? There would be no room for future hopes or health. It was all dependent on Misha. 

 

His current health was too. He was hyperventilating as he cried, clutching the pillow to his chest as he looked for any sign he didn’t even just imagine the boy was there.

 

He was a fool, and he sobbed for himself as much as he sobbed for the boy he ran off with his sick and frantic brain. 

 

He didn’t even hear the door open a minute later, but it did, and inside the door stood the boy he loved. And who still loved him back. 

 

“Oh my- ебать!” Misha rushed over to the bed. 

 

Noel’s fingers were pressed into the pillow so hard his fingernails were white and his wrist was probably aching. His numbed face stared ahead and his glazed eyes poured like a river. His breathing was heavy and uneven and everything that wasn’t good for recovery, nor good to see in a person who you wanted to see healing. 

 

“Poet, look at me, I'm right here,” He was gentle as his finger tips graced his chin to make him look at him. The eyes were so disconnected but he had to get through to him. “Can you see me? What about my voice? Wh-what about this?” Misha took his one hand and unwound it from the pillow to place over his heart. 

 

The same heartbeat he fell asleep to. 

 

The one that was only beating for Noel’s to beat beside it at this point. 

 

He eventually calmed down enough to ask with a breahty stutter, “Wh-where we-were you-ou?” 

 

Misha’s whole heart fell to it’s knees when he realized he was crying because he wasn’t there. Sure he wouldn’t be there always, but… there was no note or anything. He thought he’d be back before he awoke with the surgery and all. And yet again he fucked up. 

 

But he couldn’t consume himself in the guilt of it. 

 

Not again. 

 

This rollercoaster had crashed into one, and there were no second rides to get caught up and crushed in. 

 

“I am so sorry, poet, I was not leaving you,” Mish pressed a kiss to his nose as he wiped his eyes. “I just needed to talk to choir, and get some things for your stay.” 

 

“O-oh…” Noel still hiccuped in the aftermath of the panic he felt, holding the pillow this time like a hug. “Okay.” 

 

“I’m not leaving you,” Misha pressed his forehead into his. 

 

Noel finally got to inhale the scent. And it was one of true comfort and love. So he trusted it this time, no matter what his anxiety could have chosen to take from it. 

 

Misha wouldn’t lie. 

 

He came back. 

 

So his words, and that feeling of comfort would matter more than forced pain he could push onto them both. Again.

 

“I trust you.”  

 

Those words could have brought Misha to tears. 

 

“I’m sorry I got scared,” He nuzzled into him a bit. 

 

Misha sat up on the bed again, this time on the side and kissed the temple that nuzzled into his face. It was a warm act despite the cold tears that stained it. 

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Misha told him. “Just know they’d have to tear me from you.” 

 

“What about tomorrow?” Noel laid back himself again, where the pain was more manageable, even with the drip.

 

“That’s…that’s not real separation.” Misha explained. “I will visit, and i’ll be with on your team, always.” 

 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Noel wiped his eyes as fresh tears fell. “Feel like I haven’t seen you in months.” 

 

They were so disconnected, Misha could easily say the same. But he had to let Noel go here. Just for a little. 

 

And he’d prove to him he’d come home to him. 

 

“Noel…?” 

 

There was a small beat of pause in the comfortable silence they’d formed. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Are you scared I’m going to change my mind?” Misha asked. “Is that what you thought happened here earlier when you thought I left.” 

 

“It’d be easier…” Noel shrugged. 

 

He caught his face again. “Never.” 

 

“I don’t know…..” Noel gave a noncommittal laugh. “You might love me, might think it’s worth it, but it’s not easier.” 

 

Misha sighed. “The idea of being without you….Noel I almost did something really stupid.” 

 

Noel’s whole body tensed and he winced in pain. “What?!” 

 

“Choir stopped me, okay?” Misha said. “And as long as I have you it won’t happen again.” 

 

“But what if-” 

 

“No.” Misha confirmed. “And I realized I’ve done a bad job assuring you of that.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Remember what you told me?” Misha asked him. “Or rather…asked me?” 

 

Noel shook his head. It spun with emotion. And he’d probably said a lot over the last months that felt like he’d rather bury it now. 

 

“Well maybe I can remind you,” Misha said as he sat up a bit, digging into his pocket for something. 

 

Something hard and shiny. 

 

Something ring shaped as he pulled it out. 

 

“This might be our last day together for a little bit,” He held it out for him. “But it’s only the start of you and me forever.” 

 

Noel’s mouth fell open as he sputtered silently. “Don’t do this for me…..” Noel told him, holding the base of his wrist. “I know I said-” 

 

“What you said was right.” Misha confirmed, both their eyes glossy. “You’re not temporary, you’re not someone I fell into, you’re someone who I chose, and who I am lucky enough to know still choses me after everything that’s happened.” 

 

“That’s behind us, Misha.” 

 

“Then let’s put this,” He shook the ring closer to him. “Into our future.” 

 

“Our future…..” Noel thought the word tasted so strange on his tongue, but so did everything. 

 

Not the bad kind. The kind that made his stomach knot, though. And that felt all too surreal to happen to them. 

 

“Is this real?” Noel’s hand shook as he held out his hand. 

 

“Yeah,” Misha’s voice cracked as he slid it on his finger. “As long as you can believe in it.” 

 

Noel looked from him to the ring, and felt his own heart beat for once. 

 

This was real. 

 

And this was love. 

 

And they were going to be able to be in love, for the rest of their lives, as soon as they got through this part of it all. 

 

Together.

Notes:

Wowowowowowow!!

Did you thik I'd do an engagement callback? What's your thoughts on that?

Here's some info you might wanna know/be curious about that wasn't shown or didn't happen during the duration of LIU:

The choir was updated and helped get ring (maybe funds too)
Noel gets the help he needed
Misha goes to AA meetings and also gets helped
They visit each other until he's released and life is good again.
Claudia takes a long time but trusts misha again in like 10 years
Noel and Misha get married a few years after healing.
Then they leave for Ukraine
And they lived happily ever after.

If you have your own ideas feel free to share them!!

And if you had a fave part share that too!!

Tysm for everything guys, seriously, another era ending with the best support ever :)

Ilysm guys!! Hope to see you on the next one!

For the last time in the LIU universe, Byeeeee!! - Sierra!

Notes:

Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Keep criticism constructive! Love you <33

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 7 of Nisha Multichaps