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Mischa Bachninski was an…unlikely friend of Noel’s to say the least. I mean, sure, they had choir and physics together, but they were just acquaintances, really, nothing more. So why the fuck did he show up at Noel's window bloodied and bruised in the middle of the night?
And why did he look so incredibly hot beaten up?
Thunk
Thunk
Thunk
The sound of Mischa throwing pebbles at the window to get Noel's attention grew more and more irritating. Reluctantly, Noel opened his window for his Ukrainian choirmate, covered in blood.
“What the fuck are you doing at my house in the middle of the night covered in, what I hope is, not your blood?” Noel whispered harshly.
“Your house was the closest walk,” he answered plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Are you gonna let me in? Or do I get to climb off your roof and walk home?”
Noel stared at the boy. How did he have the fucking audacity? He could just shut his window and close his curtain and go back to bed like nothing happened. Mischa would have to leave eventually. But for some reason, against all logic, he stepped aside from his window and gestured for Mischa to climb through.
Micsha shimmied through the window as best he could. When he finally stood up in the light, Noel could survey the damage done to the others' faces. He had been beaten. Bad. A terrible black eye, bruised cheek, busted lip, and smaller scratches along his cheekbone. His knuckles, as well, were scratch raw.
“Did you win?”
What.
Why the fuck was that the first thing out of Noel's big stupid mouth.
Mischa was stunned at the quip, eyes wide from the whiplash, before he bent over in laughter.
“Oh my god–I'm so sorry-why the f-fuck did i–” was all Noel could muster before he started to laugh too. Mischa's wide smile was infectious; Noel couldn’t help it.
“That's why I came here,” Mischa said with a soft smile.
Noel tilted his head in confusion.
“I knew you would make me laugh.”
Noel flushed, smiling awkwardly, unaware of what to do or say. The silence of the moment, however, was soon interrupted when Mischa grabbed at his side in pain, groaning. Noel led him to sit on the edge of his bed.
“Here, let me get some Band-Aids and stuff, just stay here for a sec,” Noel said, before leaving the room. Mischa sank into Noel's bed, the soft, cool duvet absorbing him at his back rested against the bed.
Mischa and Noel hadn’t been particularly good friends, but Mischa had a gut feeling that he could trust Noel with something like this. That being Mischa getting the absolute shit beat out of him, despite winning the fight, which could be better described as a jumping.
It was for good reason, Mischa was not the kind of guy to get into a fight for a fight's sake; it was to teach a lesson or put those in their place who couldn’t understand that lesson.
But that was behind him, he's sure those guys won’t be causing much trouble anymore, right now he was in Noel's gruber's room, and it was so nice. The room smelled of faint vanilla bean and was littered with French noir memorabilia, very Noel. The lights were the most comforting, warm and dim, everything about Noel's room coaxed him into a sense of peace.
That peace was interrupted by Noel bursting through his door, arms full of assorted medical supplies falling out of his arms.
“Aah, sorry, sorry-just gimme a sec,'' Noel exclaimed while picking up the supplies and organizing them accordingly.
Noel proceeded to grab rubbing alcohol and cotton pads, ready to clean his wounds. Noel gingerly held Misha's face with the tips of his fingers, examining his face once again. Noel's fingers were soft against Mischa's skin. Mischa wanted to lean into the touch and feel more of it.
(He's not gay or anything, just tired)
“This is gonna sting a bit, sorry,'' Noel said gently. He pressed and rubbed the small cuts on Mischa's cheekbone; he winced at the sting. “Sorry.”
“It's fine, I did it to myself anyway,” Mischa said. Why was his throat closing up? Why were his ears burning?
“Speaking of which, would you like to tell me how exactly…this happened?” Noel asked as he gently applied Neosporin to the cuts.
“I was in a fight. I won.” Mischa said simply, a man of few words.
Noel raised his eyebrow as he put a bandaid on Mischa's nose and cheekbone cuts.
“Are you sure you won?” Noel asked sarcastically. “Because if this is winning, I don't even want to think about what the other guys look like.”
“It was well deserved,'' Mischa said bitterly, his demeanor changing, leaning and looking away from Noel.
Noel sensed his change in demeanor, matching the solemn mood with sympathy. He looked at Mischa's hands, examining his knuckles. They were practically raw. He grabbed the cotton with rubbing alcohol, pressing it gently to Mischa's hands. Mischa hissed harshly.
“I’m sorry.”
“It's fine..” They sat there, Noel wrapping Mischa's knuckles in gauze and medical tape. “Are you sure I need this much gauze?”
“Trust me, you will. Just looking at your facial bruises alone, you are gonna need tomorrow off.” Noel remarked.
“How do you know so much about medical shit anyway? It's not like you got into many fights.” Mischa asked, and Noel tensed up immediately, laughing nervously and averting Mischa's piercing gaze.
“Uh, well.. I wasn’t getting into fights, that’s for sure.” he paused, laughing, then looked up at Mischa, who seemed confused.
Noel sighed.
“Mischa, we live in Uranium City, go to a catholic school, and I’m gay. I’m not well-liked among my male peers, to say the least.”
Misha's eyes widened in realization.
“You're being for real?" Mischa asked, shocked. Noel laughed, sad and sardonically.
“Yeah, I did get pretty good at patching myself up, though, and that skill looks to have come in handy,” Noel said with a soft smile.
“Who?” Mischa asked demandingly
“I’m sorry?” Noel was stunned, confused.
“Who did it? I want names, Noel Gruber." Mischa demanded
“Why? It was mostly freshman and sophomore year; it doesn’t really happen anymore.'' Noel tried to deflect; he really didn't want to get into this right now with Mischa Bachinski of all people.
“So? They were still dipshits! I need names so I can get me in the bois together to beat their asses! You know, ever since same love b-'' mischa tried to say firmly. Noel interrupted.
“You really don’t have to do that.” Noel chuckled.
Mischa opened his mouth to retaliate, but Noel fired back first.
“Besides, you aren’t really in fighting condition right now, are you?”
Noel smiled and cupped his face, thumb stroking his cheekbone, which made Mischa's heart flutter in a way it never had before. Mischa just rolled his eyes at the comment, to hopefully distract from his clammy hands.
They sat there in comfortable silence until Noel finished wrapping both his knuckles.
“Take off your shirt.”
What
“ЩО НА ХРЯ!!” Mischa can’t. He just can’t.
“So I can see the bruises???” Noel said, confused.
“Oh oh, yeah-no yeah-like-sorry I just-'' Mischa was immediately flustered by his first thought.
Why did he think that? Why did he get so nervous about it? He had been shirtless in front of countless people beforehand, with no trouble.
“What did you think? Did you-” Noel was hit with the realization of what he accidentally implied with his bluntness.
Dumbass.
“Oh I didn’t-like not-you know-” Noel fumbled, now embarrassed.
“No, yeah-i just-its fine-whatever.”
They fumbled back and forth until Mischa turned around to take off his shirt, and Noel tried not to stare.
He ended up staring very much.
Mischa had very nice back muscles. Mischa slowly turned around to show his rippling 6-pack as well as severe bruising.
“Mischa…'' Noel let out a sigh of sympathy with the dark purple and blue business.
Noel approached and put one hand on the dark purple bruise on Mischa's chest and the other on a dark red bruise on his waist. He continued lightly applying pressure to the bruises to see the severity. With each touch, Mischa hissed in pain.
“This is…'' Noel trailed off. “Just lie down, I'll get some ice,” Noel said he walked downstairs quietly, and brought up to his room just about every single frozen food he owned: peas, fishsticks, waffles, and an actual ice pack, earning a chuckle from Mischa.
“Do I really need ice? It's just bruises,” Mischa whined.
“Not necessarily, however, if you want to fight my formal bullies, this will help the bruising heal quicker,” Noel said. “Now, lie down.”
Mischa complied, lying down as Noel gently placed the ice packs over the most severe bruises; he then set a 20-minute timer and sat on his bed next to Mischa. After this whole night, Mischa was incredibly tired. His eyes fluttered shut as he thought about the nice nap he could get.
“Do you want to tell me why you got into the fight?'' Noel asked quietly, breaking their silence.
No nap for Misha.
“A guy spilled shit on me, so I beat him.” Mischa lies compulsively, hopefully, Noel wouldn’t press more.
He really didn’t want to talk about this with Noel, considering how much it had to do with him.
Noel started laughing hysterically.
“Do you think I'm a dumb ass?!'' Noel asked between laughs. “Your shirt is clean other than the blood, and nobody should be able to beat you this bad alone, let alone about food,” Noel explained, “and besides, you are not the type to get into a fight over stupid shit like that.'' Noel looked back at Mischa, who was taken aback.
“I- I really didn't think you’d notice..” Mischa trailed off.
“You don't have to tell me if you don’t want to, but..” Noel fell on his back next to Mischa, lying on his side facing him, “I am rather curious,'' Noel said.
Mischa looked at Noel, smiling expectantly at him. Mischa sighed and smiled; he owed it to Noel.
“Well, I was walking to the bus stop, and I saw these dudes, they were making fun of somebody, and saying all this homophobic shit, and you know I don't stand for that shit.”
Mischa trailed off.
“So I yelled at them to cut it out, and one guy came up to me and was all like, ‘What's the matter? This guy is your boyfriend or something?’ I got confused about who they were talking about, and then I saw the guy's phone.'' Mischa paused. “It was these messages, looked like they were going to mass send them'’”
“Who was it?” Noel asked.
“I- I didn’t know the guy, but it still pissed me off, so I took his phone and threw it over into the street, and it broke. I tried to walk away, but then they cornered me, and you know the rest.” Mischa finished.
“You’re lying.”
“No I am not Noel?! Why would I lie about that??!” Mischa got defensive.
“No, I believe your story, but you knew the guy in the photo. You paused when I asked, you don’t want to tell me, and that's fine, but don’t lie to me.” Noel explained calmly, Misha really couldn’t get anything past him, could he? Mischa took a deep breath.
“It was you,” Mischa said.
“What?” Noel was caught by surprise, and he didn’t fully process what Mischa had said.
“The messages, it was you and some guy, I don't know how-” Mischa was interrupted by Noel.
“They catfished me.” Noel's voice quivered, anxiety rising in his body.
“They what?” Mischa didn’t understand. What did catfish have to do with this? Noel let out a deep sigh.
“I was talking to this guy, and he said he went to the school, and I believed him. He said that he was gay too, and we talked for a bit.” Noel's voice was getting increasingly strained, trying to hold back tears with every word spoken.
“And I liked him, a lot… I told him things I didn't think I could tell anyone. But he made me feel safe, he made me feel happy.” Noel couldn’t hold back the sob building in his throat.
“I really thought he liked me.” Noel crooked, finally letting a sob break through. Mischa was filled with intense rage (one of 2 emotions Ukrainians can feel), but as he looked at his friend crying with humiliation, his heart softened. He knew what Noel needed: a friend, not a bodyguard.
Mischa grabbed Noel's hand closest to him, and held it tight.
“What those assholes did is terrible, and if I could, I would take away all your pain and turn it to joy, but I can’t,'' Mischa said softly but firmly, with careful choice of his wording.
“But I can tell you how amazing I think you are, you are kind and true. Despite what you say or try to come off as, you are compassionate for all in its purest form. Hell, you let me crawl into your home in the middle of the night and heal my wounds without anything in return!'' Misha paused.
“They took advantage of your kindness, your idealism, but don’t let them take it away completely.'' Noel and Mischa looked at each other in silence. Noel sniffled and wiped his tears, smiling.
“That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.” Noel smiled, big and goofy, a light blush dusting his cheeks, his hand still intertwined with Mischas. “Thank you, I.. I really needed to hear that.”
“And I'd say it a million times over for you, love,” Mischa said softly, then he realized what he had said.
Noel's eyes widened as he sat up and processed what Mischa had just said.
“Love?”
His stomach fluttered when he thought about Mischa's low and quiet voice calling him that. He had gotten good at hiding crushes for safety purposes, staying calm with a shirtless mishap sitting on his bed, breath hitching with every touch?!? Holding His Hand?!? But ‘love’, love was the straw that broke the camel's back. It's the only thing that really can’t be read platonically, at least not in this circumstance.
Noel had become comfortable with being romantic, loving from afar, admiring in secret until the next guy. But this is completely new; neither of them can navigate this. And their friendship will be forever tainted by this ‘Love’.
Noel hated how the thought of being called love by Mischa Bachinski made him melt into a puddle on the floor.
“Oh, it's just a Ukrainian thing-” Mischa tried to back track, but there really was no backtracking from calling you secret gay crush ‘love’.
And Noel knew that too, which is why he interrupted Mischa's nonsensical rambling. He let go of Misha's hand to have them both cup Misha's face as he pulled the boy to his lips. It was soft, Noel made sure to be gentle with Mischa’s cut lips; they barely touched, but they touched enough to make Noel and Misha’s hearts flutter with excitement.
Noel pulled away nervously to look at Mischa, and was greeted with the boy just staring right back at him. Noel's stomach dropped. He read the signal wrong, fuck. He let go of Misha's face and backed up.
“I- I'm so sorry I just-” Noel began, but was interrupted by Mischa's lips meeting his own.
Mischa sat up, pulled Noel by the arm, kissing harder, desperate to make Noel understand. The feeling made Mischa's stomach drop, and he desperately wanted more. Mischa grabbed Noel by the hips, pulling him onto his lap. Noel gladly followed his lead, his hands moving from cupping Misha's face to knotting his fingers in the other boy's hair. Mischa sat up to bring their chests flush together, letting the icepacks slide to the floor.
The kiss deepened quickly, Mischa slipped a tease of tongue, and Noel was hooked. Every time their tongues met in the kiss, Noel's stomach would flip, and goosebumps would be sent down his back.
They were hungry, desperate, after having to repress their desires for so long. They kissed as if they stopped, they would disappear.
Mischa's hands began to wander, feeling up and groping Noel all over. Mischa grabbed his ass, earning a squeak from Noel, making him momentarily break the kiss long enough for Mischa to move and work kisses down Noel's neck. The kisses started light, his lips tickling Noel's neck, but grew deeper and rough, leaving a mark wherever his mouth wandered. Noel's breathing hitched with every bite Mischa left on him, letting out breathy nothings, hands moving to Misha's shoulders, and his head falling back.
Noel rested there, straddling Mischa, taking in the pure bliss, his hands moving down to the other exposed chest. Noel ran his fingers lightly on Mischa's chest, thumbs running lightly along the other boy's nipples. Misha shuddered at the touch, his mouth momentarily leaving Noel's neck to throw his head back against the bed board.
Noel took the chance and reconnected their lips, licking his lips and sucking on his pouty bottom lip, hands on Misha's pecs. Mischa pushed his chest into Noel's hands, desperate for the contact. Mischa's hands wandered to Noel's hips once more, pulling him closer until their groans met, Mischa grinding up into Noel. Noel let out a breathy moan, breaking their kiss once he felt Michas hard on grinding on his own.
“Mish-ah~” Noel moaned, putting his hands on Mischa's chest to create distance between them. Noel pressed their foreheads together, resting there.
“Is everything okay?” Mischa asked, panting as he did. Noel smiled blissfully.
“More than okay,” Noel laughed out, “but let's not get too far ahead of ourselves.''
Misha hummed in agreement, his arms wrapped around Noel's waist, pulling their chests flush together, and nuzzled his face in the crook of Noel's neck. Noel looped his arms on Mischa's shoulders, his hands scratching the back of Misha's head.
“Am I gay?” Mischa asked, breaking their comfortable silence.
Noel couldn’t hold in his laughter, tilting his head back and letting out a wicked cackle.
“I am serious! I like girls, but as you can see,” Mischa took one of Noel's hands and pressed it against his half-hard dick. Noel gasped and ripped his hand away, flushing, “I like you like that too, so, what am I?”
“I can't really tell you that; you have figured it out yourself,” Noel said.
“Well, if you had to take a guess, what would you say?” Mischa asked.
“You said you liked girls, and you like me, so my best guess would be that you’re bisexual.”
Mischa cocked his head to the side in confusion.
“Bisexual is when you like boys and girls.”
Misha nodded intently, humming in agreement.
“Well, I don't know if I like you, I think I'd have to have another kiss, just to be sure,” Mischa smirked as Noel rolled his eyes, leaning in and reconnecting their lips in a shorter, but sweeter kiss.
Noel pulled away, but Mischa kissed him again, desperately. Noel pushed Mischa flat on his bed, pinning Mischa's wrists down with ample force. Mischa struggled against Noel's surprisingly strong grip, both concerned and aroused. Noel chuckled.
“I am the only out gay man in uranium and get bullied relentlessly for it, you really don’t think I don’t know how to defend myself?” Noel raised an eyebrow playfully, Misha blushing and tight-lipped.
Just as Mischa was about to open his mouth, a timer went off. The 20 minutes of icing, more like 5 minutes of icing and 15 minutes of making out. Noel got off of Mischa and turned off the timer, grabbing the various iced objects. Mischa slid off the bed and helped as well. They walked together and put the various iced meals back into the freezer and back up to Noel's room, closing the door behind them.
“So… what are we?” Noel finally asked, breaking their silence.
Mischa thought for a second.
“We could date?” Mischa asked.
Noel walked over to Mischa, who was sitting on the foot of his bed, and sat next to him. Noel put his hand in Micha's.
“I’d like that.”