Image Credits: Noah: Aurora Malloy (Pinterest) - House Pic: Jadae Avion - Home Decor Ideas (Pinterest)
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Noah Sebastian X F!Reader [7945 words]
Summary: the blossoming of a new relationship between neighbours even after a very embarassing first encounter.
CW: swearing, mentions of heavy alcohol consumption, hangovers, nausea, fever and general sickness, mentions of sex toys, making out.
Slow burn, fluff, akward first meeting.
Disclaimer: These are fictionalized versions of the band members. Their actions and personalities in this story are entirely products of my imagination and are not intended to represent the real people in any way.
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The gentle light of the morning filtered through the curtains was a stark contrast with the blaring sound of the alarm clock.
Wonderful, you thought, another sleepless night thanks to my new neighbours.
A few months prior, you noticed boxes upon boxes piled beside the door in front of yours. You knew that the flat was empty. The last people who lived in it moved outside the country. They were a young lovely couple with whom you built a strong relationship, mostly made out of small rituals such as dinner, more like ordering pizza, on Mondays just so that you all could complain about the start of the week.
You assumed that even the new neighbour was quite young. Peeking through the boxes, you could see a few mangas, some graphic t-shirts and a couple of Funko Pops.
However most of the space was occupied by amps, and instrument cases.
During the couple weeks of the move, you never got the chance to meet them in person, you guessed because of the very different routines.
The first few months were, well, different from what you expected: very quiet, almost as if nobody actually lived there.
Occasionally, when you were coming back home, you could see a warm light through the curtains. The only signal of life.
The first interaction with them happened on a week night. You just took a shower, hair still damp, wrapped in a towel. You put on your favourite pjs on, a worn out shirt that maybe an ex boyfriend left you, ready to clock out from the real world and diving straight in the latest book you were reading.
As you were filling a glass with water, the bell rang. Your brows furrowed together. Silently you approached the door, just to be scared once the bell rang again. Who the fuck is so eager to talk to you at this time?
You cracked the door open as far as the chain allowed, frustration seeping through your eyes.
There stood a very tall man. His eyes widened once they caught yours. They were a beautiful blue colour and for a moment, you stood there observing him, taken aback from how hot he looked.
He sported a short beard, and his hair was dark for the most part, a few strands around the face were lighter, almost an ashy blonde colour.
Y/n c’mon… is it ovulation week by chance? GET IT TOGETHER.
“Can I…Can I help you?” you started.
You could tell that his gaze was lingering on you, your shirt hanging loosely around your shoulders, your damp hair creating a light wet patch just above your boobs, your bare legs.
“Hello?” you continued waving a hand in the small space between your home and the hallway.
“Oh, yeah, hi,” the man snapped out nervously, putting a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Uhm, I’m so sorry to bother you, but I think there’s been a mishap with the mail,” he continued “by any chance,were you waiting for a package to arrive?”
“Yes I was actually” your mind catching up with the fact that it has been more than two weeks since the supposed date of the delivery, but nothing came.
All of a sudden, Davis averted his gaze, actually forcing himself to look at anything other than you, and started to shift his weight between his feet, nervously picking at his black shirt.
“Now, the thing is” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing “we get a lot of packages, you know, I guess you’ve seen it. When I say a lot, I mean A LOT, like a LOT” he gestured.
“Yeah, I know… so?” you quipped, the irritation coming back up because of all the fumbling.
“So, when the delivery guy dropped off a stack of boxes, my friend Nick he…” Davis stared back at his house unsure of how to proceed forward.
“He… kinda went on autopilot” at this point, the man was full on blushing, his cheeks red.
You were definitely confused, trying to piece together the reason behind all of this. He could’ve just left the package at your door with a note. Simple. Efficient.
“He started to open everything, including this one” Davis bent down to pick up a poorly re-taped cardboard box with your name on it. Just then, you spotted the tiny red heart near the left corner of the package.
Oh no, oh no no no no no no please no. It was your turn now, to keep your head low, cheeks burning, hoping that, at some point, you’d wake up from this agonizing dream.
The package that was supposed to be delivered to you, was an impulse purchase, dictated by boredom and the sudden awareness of how unsatisfied you were with your sex life. You remembered an ad you saw on instagram, a few days prior, about a discount that this shop was having for a few of their items.
You ended up buying a rabbit wand.
Davis continued “Long story short, that is not the new camera light we were waiting on” he finally looked at you, his cheeks still burning, with an apologetic expression written all over his face.
As quickly as you could, you unlocked the chain slamming the door open, praying for this exchange to be over soon.
“I’m really sorry, we should’ve been more careful” Davis, once again, apologised.
“BUT YOU CHOSE A PRETTY COLOUR” a muffled scream came from the door. “THERE’S SOMETHING CLASSICALLY ELEGANT CHOOSING BLACK EVEN FOR YOUR SEX TOY”.
Your head whipped instinctively in the direction of the door “is that Nick?” You mumbled.
“Oh, no, he’s Jolly, another friend of mine and roommate.”
“Excuse me, how many of you are there? And everyone who lives with you basically has seen this?” You rocked the package, a wave of panic surging from your stomach.
Davis simply nodded. “What an introduction, I’d say” he added, starting to find this whole situation amusing.
Shock was written all over your face. You were frozen in your spot: package in your hands but at a loss for words.
“We could arrange a proper meeting with the other boys, so that you can finally get to know your new neighbours,” Davis concluded with a slight smirk on his lips.
Not being able to replicate any further, you just nodded lightly and ran through your door, locking it. Behind the door you heard “I’ll take it as a yes, then?” Finally hearing the opposite door closing.
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The second proper interaction you had with your neighbours was on a Tuesday night, or you should say Wednesday morning.
The hallway floor was moving, more like swaying from side to side. The sight of your door was like an oasis in a desert.
“Can you just… stay till for a fucking second? You stupid bitch” you said, way too loud to your handbag. You’ve been fumbling for a while trying to get your keys out.
A squeal of victory left your mouth once the keychain was finally in your hands. With your hand pushed forward, you were already lunging for your door lock.
CLANG. The sound of your keys hitting the floor was especially strong at this time of day.
“Son of a b..” you bent down to pick them up, however, in your drunken state, gravity got the best of you, making you hit your forehead against the hard wood of your door.
“GREAT” you yelled-whispered a hand reaching for your forehead. You were sure that there would be a bruise. Angry and discouraged from the whole situation, you took it out on your keys, throwing them, not realizing that they ended up hitting, quite aggressively, your neighbours door.
Giving up completely, you laid down on your doormat subconsciously choosing it as your bed for the few hours of sleep ahead of you.
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The low murmur of voices was the thing that woke you. A raging headache was piercing through your brain, though thankful for the darkness that surrounded you.
Your muscles were screaming in protest, a dull ache spreading through all of your body. At your age, you shouldn’t be drinking like your 18 year old self. I’m never drinking again.
“Is she…dead?” a voice whispered laced with concern and suppressed laughter.
“Are you serious?” another one snickered “Of course, she’s not dead, well, at least if we refer to the technical definition. I think she’s just taking a break from living as a functioning being.”
You groaned, beginning to stir expecting to find the cold hard floor, the last image you had before sleep got to you. Instead, you felt enveloped by something soft, gentle against your skin that created a welcomed warmth.
Slowly, you peeled an eye open trying to gauge where you were. Your vision was still blurry, but you could make out silhouettes who were bustling around.
“See! She’s ALIVE” someone screamed way too loud. “Folio, keep your voice down” someone scolded.
You propped yourself up on your elbows. Eyes still sensitive.
You must’ve been a sight to behold: your makeup was smudged on your face, either from scratching your eyes or the drool from your mouth, your hair a bird's nest of tangles and bobby pins, your shirt was bunched up beneath your bra, leaving your midsection exposed, a sock went missing, leaving your left foot bare.
Once your eyes adjusted to the light in the room, you realized you were sitting on a charcoal - grey sofa, a throw blanket scattered on the floor a few throw pillows behind you, supporting your head and back.
“Good morning” murmured a familiar voice. You felt the sofa dip slightly while Davis’ frame came into view. He looked way more put together than you were. A long sigh left you, shame starting to creep into your body.
“Fucking hell” you muttered “I’m really sorry” your voice barely above a whisper “You didn’t need to haul me in your apartment.” Your embarrassment wasn’t helping the pounding rhythm of your headache.
“Don’t you even worry” another man exclaimed “you gave us one of the funniest nights in the last few weeks. The two Nicks were the designated knights in shining armor ready to rescue the princess who, we guessed, enjoyed herself a bit too much.”
He pointed to two men, the first one had his hair up in a messy bun, and was leaning against the kitchen door frame, his arms crossed on his chest. His clear blue eyes landed on you, a soft smile appearing on his lips.
The second one, was propped on an armrest, his dark eyes had a glint of mischief in them. He waved frantically at you “Hi” he said way too enthusiastically “I’m Nick, but you can call me Folio, better for everyone, even better for your little hangover brain of yours.” He grinned.
You tried to reciprocate it, but turned out more like a grimace because of the generalized shitty state you were in.
“And I’m Jolly by the way” the man, who introduced the “two Nicks”, cut through. You nodded.
Looking at a very cute coffee table that was in front of the couch, you noticed a glass of water and two ibuprofens. “These are for you” chimed in Nick. You didn’t waste any second more, and chug down the pills. The freshness of the liquid was a welcomed sensation. Your eyes closed, head falling back on the sofa, basking on the comfortable silence that set among all you.
“You’re not planning on dying on my cushion, are you?” an unfamiliar voice spoke. Startled, you whipped your head in the direction of the sound. Beside Nick, appeared a very tall man. He was wearing a black tank top that showed his tattooed arms and enhanced his broad shoulders. His long hair was a bit tousled as if he had played with it just moments before.
“Here, I thought this could help” he got closer and handed out a steaming cup of a concoction that you couldn’t make out yet. The smell was stomach-churning. The tall man must’ve seen the disgust clear on your face because he added “That could either make you throw up whatever alcohol is left in your body or it could settle your stomach”.
There were a few seconds of silence where you looked between him and the cup uncertain if you could trust him or not.
“Is this poison?” your words tumbled out your mouth. The man burst out into a fit of laughter, but before he could retort something sarcastic, Davis cut through “you can trust Noah, he knows a thing or two about hangovers”.
Your eyes never lost Noah’s “well, that’s good to know.” And with that, you chugged whatever potion he made up.
“That’s disgusting” you croaked, a dry-heave wracking through your body. Though, strangely enough, a soothing heat spread through your chest, easing the strong nausea.
Once your body decided that was time to calm down and stop fighting the alcohol in you, it dawned on you that you didn’t introduce yourself.
“Sorry, I got your names, but in my state I didn't get to introduce myself. I’m y/n…”
“Our new neighbour who apparently buys very classy sex toys and who likes to serenade her handbag to Taylor Swift at 3 in the morning” Noah interrupted, a smirk on his face.
“I’m so sorry about my voice… not my strong suit” you answered, your voice muffled, your face buried in your hands.
All 5 of them burst out laughing. “We’ve never heard TS sung in 3 different keys… all wrong by the way” Noah continued through his laugh.
“But points for passion,” added Folio.
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Over the next few months, the landing wasn’t a space that divided two separate apartments, it became the one which united them.
Shared laughter could be heard from the floors below. Your relationship with the boys grew into something deeper than just being friendly neighbours.
To them you’d become the woman who knew what they did for a living and refused to treat them as characters in a story. While they vented about deadlines, struggles to work out riffs that still didn’t sit right, you offered them petty office drama or the plot of the latest book you read.
While you listened to their tour stories once they got back home, you brought them up to speed to the latest tv show you binged.
They were the dream, you were reality. Two things that couldn’t exist without each other, two frail entities that had to work together in order to keep a healthy balance.
Eventually, however, curiosity took the better of you. You looked them up on Spotify. Boy oh boy what a discovery. Especially Noah’s vocals. It was very hard to reconcile how his voice could get so visceral and raw during his screams and so fragile, delicate during the softer parts.
To be honest, you quite like the duplicity you were living with them. There was something so intimate about them letting you in their day to day life.
Without you posing any expectations on them
Without the need to perform a certain way
Without the persona they were asked to be once the lights were on.
Folio even created a group text “neighbourly love 💛😩”
You: guys… Is everything all right over there? YOU’RE SCREAMING! PLS KEEP IT DOWN, I’M IN A MEETING
Jolls: The creative flare doesn’t care about meetings baby 💃
Folio: That’s right babe, once you’re finished come and join us. We’ll make worth your while 😉
You: Folio STOP 🙄 😳 . May I suggest pizza night tonight?
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Ruffles: Guys… I think Y/N is missing
Davey: Oh Nick pls, AGAIN?
Ruffles: She’s MIA since last night. She hadn’t texted back, and it seems she's not in her home.
Jolls: I’m sure she’s fine… maybe she’s HAVING FUN with a gentleman 😌
Davey: Let her live guys…
You: WOW didn't think my sex life was a topic of discussion among you guys… especially in a group where I’M IN. 😑
Jolls: We're very keen on you having a pleasurable and satisfactory sex life 🤗
You: Anyway @Ruffles I’m sick, I have a fever so… I think I’m going to retreat so that my corneas don’t scream at the light. I’ll see you once my body stops fighting me 🤧
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A few hours passed, your fever didn’t fully break, but you managed to move from your bed to your couch. Slouched over, you were completely covered by several blankets and some ice covering your forehead and wrists in order to keep your temperature in check.
The low hum of the television was the only company you got, the only one that you could manage for now.
A light, rhythmic knock on your door took you out of your drowsy state. You seriously consider if you were going to answer given the recent comfort you managed to get after hours of shivers and aches. Finally you decided to let it go… whoever was, if there was a real need, could find other ways to contact you.
The knocks on the door kept coming for a few seconds before you felt your phone buzz:
N: Y/N is everything okay in there? Why aren’t you answering the door?
You: Is that you outside? Why are you here? Haven’t you read the group chat?
N: Of course I have, and that’s exactly why I’m here. Can I let myself in with the spare key? Are you decent?
You: WHY WOULDN’T I BE? Of course I am!! But please don’t look at my state, my eyebags are quite aggressive and I could potentially compete with a ghost in a paleness contest.
That last text didn’t get a reply, you just heard the lock click and a tall frame entering followed by the noise of plastic bags being put on the kitchen table.
“You know, for a person who saw you drunk and drooling on his own couch, you sound pretty worried about a little paleness,” Noah chuckled, approaching the couch.
“You’re forgetting an important part: this time I'm fully aware of what’s happening” you retorted, your stuffed nose muffling your words.
“I see…” he trailed off. Once he reached you, he moved the ice packs away from your forehead, sliding his hand behind your neck to check on you. He hummed to himself, still unsure; then, he crouched down resting his lips on your cheek to assess the temperature.
That gesture made your heart thud against your chest making you suck a sharp breath. You were hit by the intimacy of that act and how naturally it seemed to come to him.
You wouldn’t say that the relationship with Noah wasn’t bad by any means, but it was pretty different from the other boys. With them there was an openness, an easiness that they brought. Everything was straight forward. They’ve been very vocal about their feelings and how much they cherished your friendship.
On the other hand, with Noah there’s always been something more reserved, guarded that flowed between the two of you. A sort of shared shyness. Your relationship was built more on quiet things: words spoken in hushed tones, lingering looks during game nights, remembering how the other takes their coffee, little messages on a sticky note left on the door. It was as if Noah and you needed to gauge the right distance to fully commit and trust each other.
“Here” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. In his hand he had a paracetamol and some water. He went on “I got you orange juice and electrolytes, I heard they're good for you when you’re dehydrated.” A small smile formed on his lips.
“Thanks” you whispered, taking the pills, your hand brushing against yours. This particular time, the gesture was filled with an electric tension. Your stomach tensed; you weren’t sure what was the cause.
Y/N please keep yourself in check, remember what you promised yourself: no catching feelings.
“Should I make you something for dinner?” shouted Noah from the kitchen while he was sorting the shop out.
Your eyes softened “No, Noah, you don’t have to. You’ve already done enough” you responded “also, you guys are going on tour in a few weeks, I don’t think it’s wise you coming here and staying with a sick human. You need to preserve your health, your voice” you finished.
The man leaned on the kitchen doorframe, tea towel drying his hands “you’re cute when you worry about others” he said softly cutting through the silence. “My voice will survive Y/N, it’s been through much worse, trust me” he chuckled.
You were seriously considering that it was all a fever dream. Your head was buzzing with the word “cute” looping through your brain.
C’mon Y/N,get it together. You’re not a 14 years old girl.
“Besides,” Noah continued “I’m not leaving you to survive on ice packs and what… willpower? I’ve seen your sink, when was the last time you had something to eat?”
“I am perfectly capable of making my own food Noah” you retorted, a warmth was spreading through your cheeks that had nothing to do with the fever.
“I know you are, but you don’t have to be now. You’re sick, let me take care of you” he added sitting down on your coffee table, facing you.
Your eyes met his, a sincerity piercing through them making the war that was going on between your brain and your heart unbearable. The first one insisting that Noah was being a good friend, a trusted one, that his actions were completely in line with how your relationship worked. However, the second one was fueling fantasies, wishes, a yearning that was impossible to ignore.
“Is this the part where you tell me to go away?” Noah murmured, keeping your gazes locked.
“It’s the part where I tell you that you’re stubborn” you quipped.
“I prefer the term dedicated” a faint smile appeared. His hand moved gently towards your face. The back of his hand pressed on your forehead before his fingers slid down tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
You used all of your restraints to not give into his touch. He’s just being friendly.
You cleared your throat “Just an hour”.
He snapped back, eyes refocusing as if he was lost in thought. “Huh?”
“I said, just one hour. Then, you go home and gargle salt and water or eat some honey. I don’t want to be responsible for the tour cancellation” you quipped maybe a bit too harshly for your liking.
“All right MUM, deal” he answered, propping himself up. “I’m making chicken soup.”
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For the next 45 minutes, the house became an array of flavours and aromas. The rhythmic sound of the knife on the cutting board was a nice background noise to the conversation that you and Noah were having.
It terrified you how domestic everything was. Noah looked like he belonged here, in your kitchen, with you. You watched him, out of your cocoon of blankets, move in your apartment with an effortlessness that made your chest tighten.
“Is m’lady ready for her supper?” Noah spoke in an exaggerated posh accent.
“Oh, fuck off” you managed to say through your laughter. “Now, give me the bowl and get yourself at a safe distance.”
The smell was so inviting that your stomach growled in anticipation. The taste was even better. After the first spoonful, you were so concentrated on finishing the plate that you didn’t notice Noah staring at you smiling.
“Thanks Noah, that was delicious” you said, putting the spoon on your now empty dish. “I already feel so much better.” You genuinely felt restored, a bit of energy regained.
“I guess that you needed a bit of care and love from another human then” Noah commented. “If you want, I can stay here a bit more and wait for you to have a shower, making sure that you don’t pass out from the strain” he offered.
A shower did sound very good but “Thanks, really, but I don’t want to take up much of your time Noah. Besides, I think the hour just ran out.”
“I don’t think 10 minutes more or less would make much difference,” he said in a low register.
“Well, in that case, I think I’ll take advantage of your kindness. I’ll try to be quick” you moved out of your blankets. Your movements are still heavy and your muscles are protesting for the effort.
You were desperate to wash away the layer of sickness clinging to you, and, perhaps, the feelings blooming far too fast in your heart.
The bathroom soon filled with steam, hot water hitting your skin. The cold tiles against your forehead were the grounding sensation before your brain worked itself on overdrive trying to get everything under control. Your thoughts, your feelings, your fantasies.
You could hear him washing the dishes, cleaning everything up. That made you ache more than any physical sickness could. This very interaction was like reopening a closed wound. You were so convinced that you didn’t need a man, a connection, intimacy, or a relationship. All because of your past experiences. All because none of your ex-boyfriend really saw you.
You convinced yourself that being strong and independent was the endgame for you. You had proven to yourself time and time again that you could manage alone. However, the lingering desire for someone who actually cared about you was like an ember stored somewhere deep down. And this past hour just reignited that, creating a small fire in the pit of your stomach.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, a fresh set of pjs on, hair damp, you noticed that the house was quiet. Noah had switched off the main lights opting for a cozier vibe, by turning on the fairy lights scattered around your house. The kitchen was spotless, tea towel folded on the oven handle.
“Still standing?” asked Noah, while he was folding the blankets on your sofa.
“Barely, I think I used up every ounce of energy in my body” You answered, stifling a yawn.
“I’ll let you get some more rest then” he commented “Soup is in the fridge, for tomorrow. Medicines are on the counter. Fresh water is waiting for you in your room.”
Tears brimmed your eyes. You couldn’t handle this level of care, at least not in your current state. He moved to the door, gripping the handle. Before he stepped out, he murmured “For the sake of everyone, don’t be a stranger in the group chat tomorrow even if it is just to shut Folio up.” He kept his eyes locked on yours. “We… I want to know if you’re okay.”
“I will” your voice barely above a whisper, as you fought back the tears.
Noah lingered for a second more, before turning “Goodnight Y/N”
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That Friday, you were finally done for the day, ready to retreat in your room, and pamper yourself after the shitties week of work you probably had had in a while.
You managed to get through the door, juggling shopping bags, chinese takeout and the mail you just collected. Struggling to find your house keys, you didn’t notice that the door across from yours opened.
“Need a hand?” a voice exclaimed. “No need Nick, thanks” you quipped sharply. Not listening to what you just said, Nick got closer. Without saying anything, he took the keys from you, opened the door and held it just so you could step inside.
Once you got everything on the counter, you turned around to thank the man, but before you could do that, you found him already staring, concern written all over his face. “Are you all right Y/N?” he asked.
“Of course” you said automatically, a tight smile on your lips.
“I see… I’ll cut to the chase, we’re really worried about you. All of us” he murmured, still a hand pressed on the door.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” a nervous giggle slipped out of you.
“Y/N are you for real now?” Nick’s tone was lower, simmering with irritation “Don’t give me some made out bullshit. You know exactly what we’re talking about or, better, of who we’re referring to.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. You were about to retort, when loud voices and laughter were heard through the hallway. The boys were coming home.
Nick’s eyes finally landed on you “Once you’re ready to talk about it, you know where to find me.” And with that, both of you retreated in your respective spaces.
Whatever plan you had in mind for your Friday night was out the window the moment your door shut. Panic ensued in your body, waves of nausea swaying between your stomach and your mouth eliciting a sour taste.
Were you ready to take the leap of faith and confess everything to one of your friends?
You forced yourself to take a bite of the food you purchased, hoping to calm down your upset stomach. That didn’t help. Your chest felt heavy with fear, exhaustion and holding a secret for so long.
Nick’s was right. You have been so frightened of your feelings blossoming towards Noah that you’d created a facade: the good neighbour, the good friend. You were present at game nights and pizza nights. You still listened to them reminiscing about studio sessions, or endless meetings where tour dates were organized. However, you started being even more guarded. You stopped bringing the latest office drama, you stopped giving fun remarks. Above all, you stopped looking for Noah's eyes, the sticky notes on the door became less and less.
Out of sight, out of mind? Am I right?
You were hopeful that, once you got by and time passed, you could just pick the friendship back up where you left off. You just needed to get by two more weeks before the guys left for tour. Then it would all be okay.
Unfortunately, that strategy didn’t, and still, isn’t working. Huffing a tired breath, you picked up your phone.
You: You’re right. I need to talk to someone. Bring something to drink please
Ruffles: I’ll let the guys settle for the night, then I’m coming over. I’m glad we can do this
A couple of hours later, there you were, on your balcony, blankets on your laps, watching the rain gently fall down on your street, a glass of red wine in your hand.
“I can’t do this anymore Nick” you started. Your free hand was nervously playing with the hem of the blanket.
“You can’t do what Y/N?” he retorted, still a bit confused about the whole situation.
Your hot tears started falling down your cheeks freely. You couldn’t contain your sobs anymore.
“You guys were one of the best things that happened to me during these last few months. I’m really glad that I found a genuine connection, someone who I know, for a fact, that is there for me. I’m so grateful for you…” you trailed off.
“But” you continued dabbing your tears with a tissue “at some point something changed, in me, in the way I felt about someone.”
Nick’s eyes softened, “Is that person, someone who shall remain nameless?” Nick asked through a soft giggle.
You thought about it for a minute, then “It’s Noah” your voice cracked, starting to sob again, hands covering your face. You felt so embarrassed to be seen so vulnerable.
Now that Noah’s name was out there, in a space that wasn’t only yours, but shared with his best friend, was something that made your knees buckle. In a way, it felt more tangible, real; something that you couldn’t escape from anymore.
You felt his hand embracing your waist, pulling closer to him. “I’m here, I’m listening”, he simply added.
“But I feel bad, Nick. You’re his best friend, If I tell you things, I’ll put you in a weird position between me and him.” you murmured, shifting your gaze into his.
“Do you really think so little of me?” Nick cut through slightly offended. A confused look spread across your face. “I’m not only Noah’s friend… I’m your friend also. Did you really think that there was some sort of hierarchy because of the timeline of how we met?”
Your eyebrows shot up, almost admitting that he was right. He shook his head, adding bitterly “You’re something else”. He left you space, trying to get your bearings, sitting with the sensations that went through you.
“You know, it’s terrifying” you choked out breaking the silence. “For the longest time, I told myself that I was good on my own. Relationships come and go but the backbone of your life should be yourself. You are the only constant in your life, so that is what’s worth investing on. And so I did. I worked hard to get to my goals, to have my dream career, my dream house. And, don’t get me wrong, I am so happy with the way my life turned out, but meeting you guys, stirred a long buried desire for true connection: friendship and, perhaps, love”.
Lost in thought, you took a sip of your wine.
“After that whole night where Noah took care of me whilst I was sick, it was as if it all came crumbling down on me. The longing for something suddenly turned into yearning for something more, for little intimate moments, for someone to be there for you when you don’t have the strength to support yourself, for someone to really see you and accept you unconditionally” you sniffled. “That night, the promise that I made to myself broke for good. The feelings that I caught for Noah just burst through, and presented themselves.” Your shoulders slumped, as if the weight of everything you carried was finally lifted off.
After that confession, you couldn’t look at Nick. You played with the drawstrings of your hoodie, but still aware that the protective grip he had, never left you. Nick left a kiss through your hair before tightening his hold on you.
“Thanks for telling me that sweetheart” he started “I really appreciate you trusting me enough to open up to me.”
The silence that followed was the heaviest yet. You saw, from the corner of your eyes, Nick sipping his wine, listening to the rhythm of the rain pattering against the roof of the complex as if contemplating what to say next.
“You know, I can only speak from what I saw, but I think you and Noah have something special going on” he started tentatively. “Not to snitch up on him or anything, but trust me when I tell you this: he doesn’t make dinner for anyone, hell, he almost doesn’t cook for himself” he snickered.
That phrase was the final nail in the coffin. Your heart picked up a quick pace, hammering against your ribs, your breath caught. But you needed to be sure. You whipped your head towards Nick, finally looking at him in his eyes trying to gauge whether he was telling the truth.
“It’s really not my place to tell you what to do, but it’s definitely not by keeping us at arm’s length. We’re here for you. I know it’s easier said than done, but I think that whatever thoughts are occupying your mind now, they could be muted for a second and you could stay with what feels right, in your gut, not your head” he finished.
You timidly nodded. “Thanks” you said, hugging him.
“So, we’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast as we planned yesterday?” Nick asked, approaching the door. You smiled “Of course” and with that you were left in your quiet apartment, head and heart racing a thousand miles per hour.
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The next morning, you knocked on their door bright and early. Coffees for everyone on one hand, the other had a few bits and bobs in order to create the perfect breakfast. Davis was the one who opened for you. Hair still tousled from sleep, eyes still sensitive to the light.
“Hi,” you exclaimed enthusiastically.
“Hi” his voice gravelly with sleep.
“Fun time last night?” you giggled, setting everything on the counter. The house was strangely silent, you figured that everyone was still sleeping at this point. Davis just waved at you mumbling something incomprehensible, just to head out to his room, closing the door.
Your giggle just grew louder as you made yourself busy preparing something to eat.
You were concentrating on juggling the correct timing between getting toast ready and flipping pancakes that you didn’t hear feet shuffling in the kitchen.
“What a treat we’re having today” a voice broke through your flow.
You jumped letting out a scream. “Fucking hell Noah, you scared me.”
His laugh boomed through the kitchen. He looked…painfully beautiful. His hair was tousled from sleep, a few strands sticking up into different directions. His eyes were half-lidded still heavy with sleep, a lopsided smile forming on his lips.
“I’m glad you came today” his smile growing wider. “I feel like you’ve been somewhere else in the last few weeks.”
You stalled for a second, oh, so straight to the point, I guess. You tried to focus on what you were doing and to respond as casually as you could. “Yeah, sorry, life’s been busy, especially work. Deadlines are generally a pain in the ass” a strained laugh leaving you.
You could sense that Noah tensed at your answer, his shoulder becoming squared, his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and that stretch of silence was like trudging through quicksand.
He took a step closer, now definitely towering over you, “right” he started “deadlines… So let me get this straight. Work is the reason why you don’t look me in the eyes anymore. Me. Your friend.”
Those words flooded your mind. See, he just confirmed it. YOUR. FRIEND. I think it’s pretty explicit Y/N. It was as if you’d been struck by something sharp, something so direct that made your shoulders cave in.
“Don’t lie to me Y/N” he said, caging you between the stove and his frame. He leaned down to your ear “You’re bad at it, and I don’t like it” he whispered. You finally looked up meeting his eyes. Now they were fully alert, darting between yours. Your heart was hammering against your chest. Now it’s the time Y/N, rip the band aid off. As you sucked in a deep breath before starting, the floorboards creaked in the hallway.
"Is that bacon? Tell me it's bacon or I'm going back to bed!" Folio’s voice cut through the air, loud and chaotic.
Noah didn't move immediately. He held your gaze for a second longer “We’re not done here” he whispered mere inches from your lips.
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Breakfast passed through the effort to “seem normal” after that exchange and being acutely aware that Noah’s gaze never left you.
“You should do this more often” intervened Jolly, his mouth full of toast “You’re a fucking great cook.” Folio just nodded frantically.
“Ehm, I just get by” you downplayed “but you needed to be fed properly before weeks of takeouts or nothing at all.” you finished bringing a strawberry to your lips, eyes shifting into Noah’s. That fruit burst into your mouth, its juice running down your chin forcing you to lick it clean.
You noticed Noah’s gaze darkened, something deeper flickering through.
Heat pooled at your stomach. You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Was that flirting? Somehow you felt powerful realizing you had some sort of effect on Noah.
One by one, each of the boys finished their breakfast and went back to their routines. Everyone seemed to be oblivious about the little exchange that unfolded between you and Noah; everyone except Nick.
Getting up from his seat, he declared “I’ll try to keep the guys as occupied as possible, so that you two can sort out whatever is going on” gesturing a hand between you two.
You immediately stood up with the plates, bolting for the sink. However Noah took his time, gently saying “I’ll help”. The cleaning was done methodically, in a heavy, weighted silence. The aftermath of what happened before is still lingering unsaid.
Once everything was sorted, it was time to take out the trash. Trash bags in hand, Noah whispered “Then we’ll go to yours. I don’t want the guys hearing”. It wasn’t a question, there was no doubtful tone. It was a request, an order.
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The door locking was the only sound that filled your apartment for a while after. You busied yourself fluffing the throw pillows on your sofa so that “you can sit comfortably”.
“Can I offer you something?” you asked, picking at your fingers. Noah burst out laughing “We’ve just had breakfast, I think I’m okay.” he answered plopping down on the couch.
“Come and sit Y/N” he patted the spot beside him. You remained frozen beside the door frame of your living room. You knew that the cat was out of the bag, and Noah was taking advantage of the whole situation. You felt embarrassed, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.
“Oh c’mon, now you’re all shy, sweet girl? That was a very dangerous game you were playing back there, Y/N” a shit eating grin on his face.
He knew exactly the effect that he had on you and he wore it on him like a badge of honour.
You tried to regain the small dignity left in you and quipped “I don’t know what you’re talking about” . You took your time to, finally, sit down on your couch, bracing yourself for what was going to happen.
He had his arm draped on the back of the sofa. His hand was able to play with a few strands of your hair, twisting them between his fingers. Your breath hitched, cheeks becoming visibly red.
“It was just a strawberry,” you retorted, shrugging.
“So, I take that you put on a show to everyone who watches you eat fruit then” he said sternly.
“What is that supposed to mean?” you snapped.
“You don’t know what you do to me, do you? What have you done by messing with me in front of all my mates” his voice dropped an octave, eyes darkened.
“I wasn’t messing with you” trying to sound convincing. His hand moved from your hair to your chin, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip.
“Again, you’re lying babe” he breathed “You were screaming for my attention. And God help me. You got it, every bit of it.”
His eyes trailed down to your lips before moving up again to your eyes. “Did you really think that I didn't notice the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention?”
You felt naked under his gaze, he saw right through you. “You…you noticed?” you stammered, a loud swallow followed.
"I notice everything when it comes to you," Noah confessed. His tone softened, his fingers caressing your hot cheek. It was as if teasing was giving space to honesty. “I noticed the shift in your attitude after that night, even since the beginning, how our relationship has been a bit different than the rest of the guys. You’ve been running away from me for weeks. And let me tell you, I think that the saying is right “distance DOES make the heart grow fonder.”
With that, the last bricks of your walls crumbled for good.
“Because it wasn’t supposed to happen Noah” you burst out, voice whiny. “Because it’s not how I imagined our story to grow. Feelings… romantic feelings weren’t in the equation. I spent years of my life telling myself that I’m enough on my own, that I’m self - reliant. Then, one day, you show up: you remember how I take my coffee, you make sure that I’m taken care of, you leave me notes on my door for no reason other than to see me smile.” Your eyes started to shimmer with unshed tears.
“Without you knowing, you made me realize that relationships and feelings aren’t inherently dangerous. That trust is built between two people. Once I was aware that I wanted more from you, that you were special, in a way, from the other boys, I was devastated.
I broke a promise with myself
Potentially I could ruin everything we’ve built thus far
And that’s why I ran, because I thought that burying my feelings was the best solution.” Your breath was cut short from a sob that escaped.
Noah listened carefully, soaking up every word you said. “I know, human connections can be scary, but I think you just gave you the possibility, you just opened a door. I was standing behind it for months, hoping that you let me in.” Both of his hands, now, reached for your face, cupping your cheeks.
“Being self - sufficient doesn’t mean being alone. It means that you choose carefully who to trust. Let me be that person. Please don’t run away from me again.”
Without waiting for a comeback, he closed the gap between the two of you, noses barely touching “Can I kiss you right now?” he whispered. You felt his warm breath grazing your skin. You just nodded, wide eyes locked into his.
His lips pressed against yours, soft, tentative. It didn’t feel sudden, more like a quiet surrender of pent up emotions. Everything that the both of you held back was poured on this kiss.
You played with his hair at the nape of his neck, savouring the softness of his hair eliciting a soft hum from Noah. He held you tighter moving so that you could straddle his lap. The kiss became hungrier. Taking advantage of your parted lips Noah used his tongue. His hand wrapped around your hair tugging it. Enveloped by the sensation, Noah tugged a bit too harshly. A quiet moan escaped your lips.
He was about to make a snarky comment about that, when a rhythmic banging on your door broke the tension. You could hear voices discussing in the hallway before a loud scream cut through them
“NOAH, HEY, NOAH OPEN UP”
“Is that Jolly?” you asked out of breath.
Noah groaned, forehead pressing on your shoulder. “Unfortunately” he retorted, kissing your neck.
“NOAH, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE DUDE” Jolly kept shouting “FOLIO IS CHOKING ON A PANCAKE AND YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS ABOUT THE MANEUVER, THE ONE WHERE YOU FIST HIS STOMACH”
Although Noah was a sight to be admired: lips swollen, hair tousled and slightly red cheeks, you couldn’t contain your laughter “Someone should tell him that it doesn’t sound reassuring what he just said” you spoke.
From the door you heard another voice, probably Nick “Jolly shut up, Folio is fine, he just ate too quickly and the pancake went down the wrong pipe.”
“You should probably go and save the day Sebastian” you chuckled, caressing his chest.
“I probably should honey” he nodded, giving one last peck on the lips. “I know I sound repetitive, but we’re not done here… We just got started” he winked at you.
And with that, with smooth movements, he was gone, the ghost of his lips against yours still lingering with you.
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