Misha seeks out a conversation with a friend. (I attempted to write this very ambiguous. You can view this as platonic or romantic.)
Sundays always felt slow, and the rain made the day feel even more empty. Somehow, Misha Bachnyskyi found himself walking over to his friend’s house in the rain with a hood over his head. When he got there, he noted that his friend’s mother’s car was not parked in the driveway, meaning she was probably out working, and his friend was home alone.
Misha almost hesitated to reach out and knock on the door. Why had he come here, really? He hadn’t even asked him if he could visit. But surely he wouldn’t mind, right? Something about today felt gloomy, and it wasn’t just the gray skies. Misha felt down, and he wasn’t sure why, but what he did know is that he needed a friend today.
Finally, Misha tapped his knuckles against the wood. Knock, knock, knock. He took a step back, waiting for just one moment before Noel Gruber opened the door a crack, peering out. When he spotted Misha, he opened the door completely, smoothing out his clothes and smiling a little. He hadn’t expected the visit. “Misha,” Noel said to him, “a pleasant surprise, really. What are you doing here? You walked over here in the rain?”
The walk from Misha’s house to Noel’s house wasn’t very long, perhaps a few minutes, but maybe it was still a bit concerning that Misha had made the walk in the rain without even notifying Noel he was visiting. “H..Hi,” Misha stammered out after a few seconds—he didn’t really think about what to say. “Ahh… Well… I just wanted to hang out, I guess.” It wasn’t the entire truth, but it wasn’t completely false either.
Noel frowned. “Are you… sure? You look kind of upset.” Misha sighed. Great. He knew something was up.
“Aghh… I don’t know. I just… I started feeling kind of sad. I just let my feet take me here. I guess I just need a friend.” Misha wasn’t usually open and honest like that. Something about Noel felt… safe. Like he could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge him.
Noel felt honored to be that safe space for Misha. He could have gone to Ricky, or texted Talya, or kept it all to himself; but he went to Noel. His feet took him to Noel. Still, Noel concealed how glad he was. He stepped out of the way to let Misha in. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Misha stepped in behind Noel, threw his shoes off, and took a vague glance around. He sort of slouched like he was trying to get his wet hoodie as far away from him as he possibly could, uncomfortable. He spotted a coat rack right by the door, and lifted his arms up and behind himself, pulling the soaked jacket over his head. He pinched the hood with his index finger and thumb and hung it up as he finally replied, “I just want to… talk.”
Noel nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can talk.” He smiled; perhaps it was a bit crooked. He wanted to do this right, he really wanted to show Misha he’d support him. Don’t overthink it, Noel. “Do you wanna go in my room?”
“Sure,” Misha said with a shrug. He didn’t mind where they went, really. As long as he could talk. “Lead the way.”
As per usual, Noel led Misha to his room. It was quite dim in there; the big light was off, and the only things lighting it up was the dim light from the window and a pretty, vintage-looking lamp next to Noel’s bed. Misha recognized it—Noel had thrifted it a while ago. He had been so thrilled about it, Misha recalled. Something about it being super cheap.
“Here,” Noel said as he began to move a few pieces of clothing off his bed, “Come sit.” He sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning for Misha to sit next to him. Misha smirked playfully. He’d been here several times before. He might as well live here.
“Nah,” Misha said before flopping onto the bed face first. “I think I’ll lay right here.” Noel was taken aback, and then laughed. “Sure,” he replied.
Noel hesitated; would it be weird if he laid next to him? Surely not. They were friends, right? Being friends with guys as a gay man was hard. Most of the time, they’d think he liked them if he did something that could just barely be interpreted as romantic.
But Misha was different. He didn’t mind the friendly affection; in fact, he actively seeked it out. Unlike with friends Noel had in the past, they would hug and sit close to one another very frequently. It was nice.
So, finally, Noel laid next to Misha, their shoulders touching on the small bed. Noel turned his head to face Misha, and Misha lifted his head to face Noel. They smiled at each other.
Misha flipped over onto his back, now, and leaned closer to Noel. They shared a few moments of warm silence. Noel wanted to give Misha the chance to speak first.
Finally, Misha took a breath.
“I like the rain. It reminds me of home. When my mother and I would snuggle up under a blanket, when she would tell me stories and read me poems.”
A beat.
“Do you like the rain, Noel?”
Noel thought about it for a moment. “Sometimes.”
He paused, and then elaborated, “It can be poetic, really… It makes a good metaphor. Sometimes it’s harsh; thrashing around trees, beating down on your skin… sometimes it leaves behind a bright rainbow.”
“Sometimes it’s calming, listening to raindrops hit the window,” Misha continued, and left it at that. The silence between them revealed the sound of rain falling onto Noel’s window.
Misha glanced at Noel again. The other boy stared at the ceiling, appearing comfortable. Misha sort of laughed–although it was more like a sharp exhale out of his nose. “Sick of this sappy shit,” he said jokingly, before flopping directly on top of Noel, catching the poet off guard.
Noel chuckled, “What are you doing? Don’t you find this a little weird?” he said, before quickly clarifying, “I mean, not that I mind.”
“Nah. It’s just like… horizontal hug, no?” This sent Noel into a laughing fit that quickly ended after he snorted and got embarrassed.
Misha snickered. But soon, their laughter dissipated, the silence filled again by the sound of the rain. Misha rested his head on its side on top of Noel’s chest. His heartbeat was somewhat… relaxing.
Of course, their conversation inevitably turned sappy again, for what are two writers if not full of love?
“I miss my mom,” Misha said softly, somberly. Noel placed a hand on his head as a comforting gesture, still silent. “I miss my country.”
He thought for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s kind of stupid,” he began, “but I keep thinking about that question I got a while ago.” Noel hummed as a response. “The one that said something like, if you could go back to Ukraine right now, but couldn’t talk to the choir ever again, would you do it?”
Misha sighed. He was about to get unbearably sweet, but he couldn’t help it. “As much as I miss my home… I meant what I said. Really. I want to go back as soon as I can, but if it means never talking to the only people who were ever nice to me here again? I don’t think I could do that, you know? Is that such a crime?”
Noel looked down at the boy on his chest. He adored the unusual sweetness from his friend. Knowing Misha really did care about the choir, about him—it felt nice. Absent-mindedly, he twirled his curls with his fingers. Misha didn’t seem to mind. “I think that’s really lovely, Misha.”
And once again, they were left in silence, a common theme of this afternoon. But it wasn’t anything uncomfortable—in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was nice they could lay unspeaking and still enjoy one another’s presence and company. That was a kind of closeness that was hard to come by, especially in Uranium.
But all silences must come to an end, right?
“Noel?” Misha said, quietly and softly, as if beckoning for his attention. Noel continued playing with his hair, looking down at him. “Hmm?”
For a few moments, Misha was silent, the only sound from him was his steady breaths. Finally, he spoke.
“I love you.”
Noel was taken aback by the statement. A boy lying on his chest against his heartbeat—it was undoubtedly intimate. Was this a platonic sentiment? Was it something deeper, more romantic? Noel wasn’t sure.
But either way, no matter what Misha truly did mean, Noel knew his answer.
so im in a little funny multiverse roleplay where people can choose as many choir members as they want along with having dupes! this means theres a lot of different interpretations (including mermaids?? and zolarians??). one of those interps is an au where ocean didnt develop at all and instead voted for herself,, and she was being really selfish about it. so my noel went off on her in the gc and then collected his thoughts into one big thing
--------------------------------- 2:23 AM ---------------------------------
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: The Ricksterrrrr
ricky ⭐: the moneyyyy
ricky ⭐: hi :3
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Yo
ricky ⭐: why are u dming me so late go to bed
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Ur up 2
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Im bored
ricky ⭐: go play fortnite or something
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Mt aim will b bad
ricky ⭐: why
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Uhhh
ricky ⭐: 🤨
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Lmoa
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: I juts drank
ricky ⭐: what.
ricky ⭐: drank what
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Water
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Funyn water
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Sparklign water
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Alcohol.
ricky ⭐: YOURE DRUNK??????
ricky ⭐: bro
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: wjat
ricky ⭐: 💀💀
ricky ⭐: how did u even get alcohol
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Illegallly
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Lmaoooo that owrd hasso mant Ls in it
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Unlike me
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Cuz I never take Ls 💯💯😎
ricky ⭐: ur gonna get yourself arrested one of these days
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Liek what Ocean said
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Wgat the woorls needs id people. Like me
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: I gorgot the rets
ricky ⭐: im serious man 😭😭
ricky ⭐: people are gonna tell ur hungover tomorrow
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Who says I am even goign to shcool tomorow
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: No ine even notices Im gone anyway
ricky ⭐: people will definitely notice the guy with the obnoxious blue hat is gone
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: HEY
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: That is my favoirte hat :-(
ricky ⭐: we can tell /silly
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: :-(((
ricky ⭐: dont frown at me
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: :-((((((((
ricky ⭐: ok mr
ricky ⭐: nvm that was kind of insensitive
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Wgat
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: How is "mr" insensitvie
ricky ⭐: not that
ricky ⭐: i was gonna make a joke but it was kind of a dick move
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: ???????
ricky ⭐: nothing
ricky ⭐: go to bed mischa
ricky ⭐: and drink some water
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Okay
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: I am skipping tomorrow
ricky ⭐: ok man
ricky ⭐: i'm going to sleep
THE REAL KA-CHING 🔥💵: Godo night Ricky
ricky ⭐: gn
ricky ⭐:
Mischa becomes bold, and offers Noel a dance. (I don’t know what kind of event they’re at, I just wanted them to dance together)
Mischa Oleksandrovych Bachinski stood at the party with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall casually. He wore a collared shirt and a dark blue tie, black dress pants, and black boots. His blazer was tied around his waist messily. He couldn’t quite remember what the formal party was even for, but he didn’t care to remember. All he knew is that he was required to go. Frankly, he was a bit annoyed. He didn’t really want to be here. But alas, here he was.
Mischa glanced casually to his left to a familiar face. It was Noel Oscar Gruber, who stood fidgeting with his hands. He wore his hair neatly done, as per usual, but unlike his typical fashion, he sported a black and red suit, neatly ironed out. He had thrifted it a week prior, Mischa knew, but you could hardly tell if it wasn’t for the mismatched shades of red of his tie and blazer.
Noel looked nervous, or perhaps a bit anxious, Mischa observed. After a few seconds of Mischa studying the boy, he looked over, meeting his eyes. Noel gave Mischa a friendly, sweet smile that made his stomach do all sorts of flips.
Mischa had suspected he might be developing a crush on Noel for a while now. He had tried to ignore it, but once he discovered his bisexuality, he knew for sure that it had to have been more than just a friend thing. He didn’t want to ruin what they had. So as he did with most things, he kept it to himself.
By now, Mischa was full-on staring at Noel. Noel waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay, Misch?” Misch. It was a simple nickname, but one he cherished every time he heard it. He would let Noel’s voice linger in his mind for as long as he could. He tried to swat the feeling away.
“Yeah. I am good,” he replied slowly. “I just… I thought you looked nice.” Mischa felt a bit daring tonight. A few compliments wouldn’t hurt, right? And he really did think he looked nice. Noel chuckled, picking at his chipped nail polish.
“Ahh… Well, I would have chosen something a bit more… myself, I guess. But you know how it is.” Mischa did know what the boy meant—His mother was kind, but she tended to get worried about Noel. She didn’t want his self-esteem ruined by some immature teenagers. But little did she know, she was hurting Noel by not letting him express himself more than he ever would have been hurt by those teens making fun of it. He had trouble saying no to her, even then. Noel probably would have preferred an outfit a bit more extravagant. More unique. More… Noel.
“Well,” Mischa started, “I think the suit looks good on you.” Noel’s face flushed crimson and he smiled at Mischa even wider. Noel looked away, back to the crowd of tens under the dim, blue light. Mischa couldn’t help but smile at him, amused by his reaction. Noel looked so beautiful tonight, he thought. God, why wouldn’t these feelings go away? The comforting silence between the two lingered for a few moments that felt like eternity. A lovely, fuzzy eternity that Mischa never wanted to end.
“I wish I had someone to dance with,” Noel said casually, breaking the silence. Mischa took an abnormally shaky breath. His gaze finally left Noel, turning to the crowd, instead. Several couples had started to dance with each other. The songs became slower. The teens had become quieter.
“Maybe we can dance. Together,” Mischa said softly, his voice cracking in an uncharacteristically nervous tone. Noel glanced back at him. The lights turned red now, highlighting his warm brown eyes. They almost shimmered like sweet red wine.
“You would dance with me?” Noel asked, turning his body towards Mischa.
“If you want to,” Mischa stuttered out. Was his accent a little more obvious, or was it just him? Did Noel also feel his blood rushing to his face so fast he might faint?
Noel smiled at him. A sweet smile, as if coated in honey. One that might make Mischa sick if he took it in all at once. His body was turned toward Noel, now, but he looked away, casually. He brought his hand to the back of his neck, which was cool from sweat. Mischa took his hand off of it, wiping it on his pant leg.
“I’d love to dance with you. I didn’t know you could dance,” Noel said, a teasing tone in his voice. Mischa wore a crooked smile.
“Hah… Yes. My mother taught me.” When Mischa spoke of his mother, he usually had a sad tone to his voice. Tonight, he simply smiled, reminiscing.
“That’s sweet,” Noel replied, tilting his head and studying Mischa’s face. Mischa looked back at him, once again meeting his eyes. Mischa held out his right hand to Noel, smirking playfully. “Shall we?”
Noel put his hand to his chest, grinning. “What a gentleman!” The other boy took Mischa’s hand, and Mischa pulled him closer. He put his left hand gently around Noel’s waist. Noel reached up, putting his right hand on Mischa’s shoulder. Noel looked at Mischa with an expression that could only be described as admiration. Mischa looked back at him longingly, as they began to step to the rhythm of the music. The lights changed to a lovely shade of lavender.
Occasionally, Mischa would let go of Noel’s waist and lift his hand in the air, prompting him to do a spin. When he turned back to Mischa, he fell right back into his hands, as if a puzzle, finally complete. Mischa couldn’t keep his eyes off of Noel. And it seemed neither could Noel keep his eyes off of Mischa.
Their sweet moment quickly became bitter at the sound of a boy muttering something under his breath.
Noel’s loving gaze shifted to a horrified one. He was like a deer in headlights. Noel looked over at the boy, still holding Mischa’s hand with his other hand on his shoulder. Mischa looked at Noel, and then the boy, confused. He had heard him whisper something, but he couldn’t quite make it out.
Now, Mischa noticed that several other couples were staring at him and Noel as if they had two heads. He looked puzzled and confused. What could possibly be wrong with this? Noel looked around, almost in a panicked or embarrassed state. The normally confident boy suddenly seemed so… self conscious. Mischa looked at him, concerned. “Are you okay?” Noel didn’t reply to him, but rather addressed the third boy. “What did you just call me?”
The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his friends. But he still glared at them briefly. Noel’s eyebrows furrowed, and he bit his bottom lip, looking back at Mischa. His eyes sparkled with dozens of emotions–some kind of mix of horror, humiliation, embarrassment, sadness, anger… Mischa’s eyes locked on his, soft and empathetic, even though he didn’t really understand what was going on.
“Are you okay?” Mischa repeated, tightening his grip on Noel’s hand. “What did he say?” Noel frowned, his own grip loosening. “He called us–” Noel began, his voice quickly getting caught in his throat. Tears welled up in the other boy’s eyes, and he slipped away from Mischa, quickly leaving the room.
“Noel?” Mischa said, defeated. His arms dropped to his sides, and he stared at the direction Noel left from, not really knowing what to do. He turned to look at the boy and his friends, frankly pissed off; “Fuck you, asshole.” He flipped them off, and they laughed at him mockingly as he walked away, unbothered by their extra torment.
Mischa found Noel right outside, away from the crowds in the dark. He was crying. Mischa frowned, and set a hand on his shoulder, letting him know he was there. Startled, Noel sucked in a breath, turning to face Mischa. Despite his tears, Mischa still couldn’t help but find Noel so, so beautiful under the bright moonlight.
Noel sniffled and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. “I didn’t think you would follow me.” Mischa smiled sheepishly, almost amused Noel would think such a thing. “Of course I followed you,” he said, “I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.”
Noel stared at him, doe-eyed. The poet seemed shocked by Mischa’s words, almost befuddled he’d come up with something so romantic. “...That’s beautiful,” he remarked, now turning his body toward Mischa, his gaze still locked on him. Mischa brought his hand up to touch his neck, his face dusted a light vermillion. “It is true.”
The poet smiled finally, cocking his head. He reached out to Mischa, grabbing his wrist and sliding his hand into his. Mischa simply let it happen, truthfully becoming a bit flustered. He stared at Noel with all of the love in the world, as if they were the only two people on the planet now.
“I’m sorry I acted like that,” Noel said, a little embarrassed, “it wasn’t even that big of a deal. I guess it was just… the breaking point.” Mischa chuckled, bringing his hand up to swipe a tear from the other boy’s cheek. “Do not even worry about it. I get it.”
“When did you get so sweet?” Noel questioned with a smirk, teasingly. Mischa rolled his eyes playfully, and replied, “Something about poems and red roses.” Noel smiled even wider, ear to ear, his face looking awfully rosy. He looked at Mischa for a moment, and then came closer to him, pressing a kiss onto his cheek.
Mischa grinned like a little boy. He felt relieved, refreshed. For once, he felt like he wasn’t alone anymore.
Something is a bit off. *(I might rewrite this, I'd like to tweak Noel's personality.)*
Mischa Bachinski looked around the room, fidgeting with his hands in front of him. He had decided to join the choir on his own, finding an interest in singing—but he had to admit he was nervous. He searched for an adult; the choir director, Father Marcus; but couldn’t find him. Instead he found the other choir members sitting together, chatting somewhat casually.
“Hi,” he said to the other members, his voice cracking. “I wanted to… join the choir… Where is the director?”
“Hello,” said a chipper sounding boy. “Father Marcus is out sick, I believe! But we decided to hang out anyway! Anyway, I’m Noel! Noel Gruber! What’s your name?” Noel smiled at Mischa. Noel had black hair, parted in the middle, and was the tallest in the group.
Mischa was a little bit overwhelmed by the boy’s friendliness. He seemed almost too eager. “Oh! I am Mischa. Mischa Bachinski,” he said softly.
“Who’s this loser?” A girl asked, an annoyed tone in her voice. Mischa looked over to see the shortest in the group. She wore her curly, purple-and-dark-brown hair down, and wore glasses. She was chewing on a pink piece of gum.
“Be nice, Constance,” another girl replied in a hushed tone. This girl was ginger, and a few inches taller than the other girl. She seemed… down.
The final choir member waved to Mischa with a neutral face. He stood with a plain pair of crutches, and his curly hair was tied back into a small ponytail.
“This is my best friend, Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg,” Noel said, pointing to the sad-looking girl. “She is pretty quiet most of the time, but she is super nice! Everyone loves her!” Next, he pointed to the girl with the glasses. “As Ocean said, this is Constance Blackwood! She can be… mean, sometimes…” He sighed as Constance flipped him off. “And this is Ricky,” he continued, pointing to the boy with the crutches. “I thought he would make a good addition to the choir to make it more accessible, assuming he could sign the songs… turns out he doesn’t know sign language.”
“He’s too busy being a nerd,” Constance said, laughing. Ricky looked unamused, typing on his phone. A quick moment of silence passed before the choir heard a text-to-speech voice begin to speak: “What? I just really like geometry! There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd, anyway!”
It was late at the Mega Mall, and it would soon close for the day. Noel Gruber stood in the Taco Bell, exhausted; he was on the closing shift. Finally, he clocked out, his muscles aching. All he wanted to do was go home. He stepped out of the mall…
Just to realize it was pouring. Great. A fantastic end to an awful day. Noel stared at the rain from under the covered area, wondering if he should wait it out. He took his phone out of his pocket, checking the weather app. It said that it would be raining for the next hour. Even better, he thought. As he started to walk through the cold rain, he started to cry. He felt miserable, but he had to get home somehow.
Noel didn’t go far before he heard a familiar voice. “Hey! What are you doing out in the rain, dummy?”
Noel looked up from the concrete sidewalk to his right, his arms wrapped around himself, shaking. He simply stared at his friend with puffy, red eyes.
Mischa’s eyes landed on Noel’s, and his expression softened. He stepped out of his shitty car into the rain and wrapped his arms around the other boy. He rested one hand on his back, and the other on his head. Noel felt pathetic as he leaned into him, full-on sobbing, now.
“What are you doing here?”
“You said you were having a bad day. And I did not want you walking home in the rain.” Mischa replied. Noel remembered texting Mischa on his break about the shitty customers yelling at him, and his manager on his ass about everything. Mischa pulled away from Noel, looking at him. “Let’s get out of here, man.”
Mischa hurried to the driver’s seat, and Noel ran to the passenger’s seat. They both shut the car doors, sighing. “Okay. We go home now.” Mischa said, starting up his car and driving off.
Most of the drive, the two boys sat in silence, other than the hip-hop music playing on low volume and the sound of cars rolling through puddles. Sitting at a stop light, Noel broke the silence. “Sorry for getting your car all soaked.”
Mischa chuckled. “Hah! You are shaking like leaf. I’m more concerned about you being soaked than my car.”
Noel smiled sheepishly down at his hands in his lap. “You’re concerned about me?”
“Pffssh… Well…” Mischa said, a bit embarrassed. “Yes… You will get a cold…”
Noel looked at Mischa and grinned at him. “You’re so sweet.”
Mischa’s ears turned beet red, and he furrowed his brows. “I am not sweet. I am bitter… cool. And mysterious.”
“Sure you are,” Noel teased.
Soon, they reached Noel’s house. His mom’s car was not in the driveway—she was at work tonight. Mischa got out of the car, shutting the door, and walked over to the passenger’s side. He opened the door and held his hoodie over himself and the door. “Come on,” he said to Noel.
Noel looked up at the jacket in the air and stepped out of the car. Mischa shut the door and stayed close as the two rushed over to the covered porch. Noel walked onto the porch, and Mischa stayed on the steps. “There you go,” Mischa said to Noel, his hoodie still held above him. “I see you later.” Mischa began to walk away until he heard Noel say something from behind him.
“Wait. No. Stay.”
Mischa turned back around and looked at Noel, who stood fidgeting with his hands. He stepped onto the porch and held his jacket under his arm. “Okay.”
Noel looked at the ground, his cheeks turning pink. “You’re not going to ask why..?”
Mischa shrugged. “I do not need a reason. I will stay if you want me to stay.”
The two boys entered the house and Noel walked to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, drying his hair and his face.
“I’m gonna change,” he said to Mischa. Mischa nodded, and Noel grabbed a change of clothes and closed the bathroom door. Shortly after, Noel opened the door again, this time in a t-shirt and shorts. He glanced over at Mischa, who was still standing by the door awkwardly. “Oh, right,” he muttered, looking at his damp brown curls.
Noel went into the bathroom again, grabbing another dry towel. He approached Mischa and ruffled his hair with it.
“Yoo,” Mischa laughed. “I can dry my own hair!”
Noel laughed back at him. “Oh, whatever. Soo dramatic.” He stopped messing with Mischa’s hair, and threw the towel over his shoulder. “Do you want a change of clothes? Mine might fit you…”
Mischa shook his head. “Nah. I should dry off soon.” He didn’t get as soaked as Noel did–he wasn’t out in the rain for as long. “Do you feel better?”
Noel smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I do.” He looked at Mischa for a moment, tilting his head. “Thank you for caring so much.”
“It is only nature,” Mischa shrugged, looking away sheepishly.
“I’m like, actually exhausted. Do you wanna… stay over..?”
Mischa looked back at Noel, a little bit surprised. He thought about it, and he decided that he really didn’t want to go back home… or leave at all, for that matter. “Yeah. Sure.”
Noel smiled and grabbed Mischa’s wrist, leading him to his room. His room had beige walls, similar to the rest of the house. Noel had always wanted to paint the walls dark red, but was never allowed. It was decorated in dark decor. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess in here… I take a lot of time choosing outfits,” Noel said, blushing. There were clothes strewn across the carpet.
“I don’t mind,” Mischa said. “It’s cleaner than my room, that’s for sure,” he said lightheartedly. What he did not mention was that he lived in a basement that was hardly an excuse for a room—but Noel knew that. And he didn’t blame him.
Noel got into the left side of his bed. “You can sleep on this side,” Noel said, nodding to the right.
Mischa stood in the doorway for a moment, not really understanding how the other boy was being so casual about this. Soon enough, though, he shrugged it off, realizing that he didn’t really mind, either. He closed the door and crawled into the bed next to Noel, facing him.
Noel looked back at Mischa, and he couldn’t help but smile. There was something so comforting about laying next to him in silence after a long day.
Mischa reached over, brushing Noel’s bangs out of his face and behind his ear. He looks so lovely, he thought.
Noel turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling before deciding to move in closer to Mischa; who accepted this move almost instantly, wrapping his arms around the other boy and resting his chin on top of his head. The two fell asleep quickly, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. They weren’t even a little bit concerned about Noel’s mother’s reaction, who would come into her son’s room after a long shift to check up on him, only to be met with the only slightly shocking sight of him sleeping comfortably in the arms of his close friend.
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