rug, curl, admit with nicholas x noah pls ♡
I am so sorry for the wait on this. I hope it was worth the wait <3. Another part of the Din Evigt, verse.
Content Warnings: blood, grief, nick is having a breakdown
Word Count: 2.3k
When Noah enters the house, he’s greeted by a dull drone of a singular piano note being played over and over and over and over again. He could feel it in his bones, the heaviness seeping from the living room, chest twisting with each press of the key. He called for Nick, but met with no response. Peaking inside the living space, he saw Nicholas standing at the piano, shoulders hunched, head hung low and his hair a cascading veil around him. He was still wearing one of Jolly’s robes from this morning.
“Nick?” Noah called again, this time softer, so as not to startle him. Again, he was ignored.
It seemed disingenuous to ask if he was okay because it was clear as day he wasn’t.
“It’s okay to let me go.” He said flatly.
“What?”
Nicholas stopped. Slowly, his head lifted and turned ever so, just enough for Noah to see the absolute heartache on his face and swollen, bloodshot eyes. Noah felt his heart shatter in two. He took a step towards him, only for Nick to take one back.
“You need to let me go.”
Crimson from an open cut across Nicholas' knuckles dripped onto the wooden floor. The color was… off, even for him. It was far darker than it should be, that much Noah knew.
"What happened to your hand, Nick?" He asked cautiously.
The house was quiet and stagnate enough that Noah swore he could hear the rattling of Nicholas' bones, as well as see it. Nicholas followed his gaze, lifting his bloodied hand and staring at it intently. Confusion furrowed his brow as he looked to Noah.
"I'm bleeding. Why am I bleeding?" His voice was laced with mild panic. "Noah, why am I bleeding?"
Noah took another step toward him; this time Nicholas stayed put, but he still flinched, a small, barely there twitch, but enough for him to notice.
"Nick," Noah held out a hand, "what happened? Are you okay?"
The blank stare told him as much as Nicholas had—nothing.
"I-I don't know…" Tears shimmered along his lashes. "I… cleaned up after you left this morning, then I… wanted to play Jolly a song so I came in here."
Noah looked to the piano where Jolly's urn resided, only it was missing.
"Then I realized I never showed him the renovations so I grabbed him and showing him around and… and I told him about you and then I felt th-th-this guilt and Jolly appeared and—" Nicholas inhaled a shaky breath. "Everything came rushing back and I was back there, cradling his dead body, apologizing over and over and over again."
Tears fell freely from somber seafoam, the whites of his eyes almost the same shade of red as the silk robe he wore. Noah stood, too stunned to speak.
"I kept yelling for you." His voice cracked. "And you weren't here, and I knew you weren't, I knew that. I watched you leave. I-I made you breakfast. Y-you kissed me before you left. You were here, but you weren't."
"Nick…" Noah didn't know what to say.
“It's not your fault, I know." Nicholas was quick to reassure him. "It just sent me down a spiral of what ifs. What if you get sick of me? What if you decide I’m too much to handle after all? What if the same thing happens? What if it's me? What if you—“
Nicholas couldn’t get the words out. A painful lump formed in his throat and a sob tore through him, sending him crumpling to the rug.
Noah was quick to rush to his side and engulf him. Nicholas thrashed, desperately trying to push him further away. Noah only held him closer until he eventually curled into him, his despondent sobs shaking them both. Tears stung his own eyes and trickled down his cheeks as he blinked them away. Nicholas’ fingers twisted in his shirt, clutching to the fabric like a lifeline and staining it with blood. He screamed, raw and visceral, shredding his throat, the sound only partially muffled against Noah’s chest.
He felt utterly and completely helpless. Nicholas had broken down on him before—more times than he could count and more than Nicholas would ever admit, but nothing quite like this. He wanted to do more than just hold him; he wanted to make the hurt go away, reach inside his chest and pull at the deeply rooted grief in his heart until it gave—but he couldn’t.
When his sobs finally quieted to sniffling, Noah gently pried his face from his chest. He smoothed a hand over his hair, pressing his lips into a sad yet sympathetic line as despondent seafoam flicked between black brown. Like fragile porcelain, Noah cradled Nicholas' face between his hands.
"I am not going anywhere.” Noah brushed his thumb across his cheek, wiping away lingering tears. “I will be here for as long as you want, Nick.”
"You don't know that." Nicholas choked out.
"You're right, but you also don't know this will end in disaster either." Noah fixed him with a firm yet gentle stare. "I knew the risks when you told me everything, and I still said yes. I am happy to pick up pieces of you, and I cherish every one of them helping you put them back together."
“That’s not fair to you.”
Noah pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Nicholas blinked, eyes still shimmering with tears and underlying uncertainty.
"You make it so difficult not to fall in love with you."
Noah chuckled. "Are you telling me you love me?"
"I.. might be."
The confession caught him off guard, but he managed to mask his surprise, at least he hoped so. On one hand, it was nice to hear Nicholas felt the same, but on the other, Noah worried if he just said it without realizing and was trying to save face—and he desperately, selfishly hoped he did.
"When was the last time you fed?" Noah asked.
Nicholas furrowed his brows.
"I ask because the blood coming from your hand looks old."
He looked down at the hand still twisted in Noah's shirt. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but when he untangled his fingers, the cut split, prompting more crimson to the surface.
"Let's get this cleaned up, then I'll give you a drink, okay?" Noah helped Nicholas to his feet.
"I don't have it in me right now, Noah."
"Nick—"
"No, I mean… I don't want a drink from you. I'd rather have a blood bag."
Noah nodded. "Sure. Just one?"
Nicholas let Noah bandage his hand without complaint, his gazing burning through him the entire time. Noah tried his best to ignore it, but it was heavy. He couldn't make out the emotion plaguing them. At the very least, it didn't seem as sorrowful or shaken. Maybe it was contemplative.
When he finished, Noah locked eyes with him. Nicholas' expression softened as Noah kissed the bandage.
"For extra healing." He said with a faint smile.
"Thank you." Nicholas whispered with a small smile of his own.
Gently, Noah hooked a finger under his chin.
"You're sure you don't want a drink from me?" Noah inquired, eyes flicking between his.
Nicholas nodded. "I'm too tired."
Noah's smile turned sympathetic; he softly pecked his lips.
"Blood bag and a nap then."
He helped Nicholas off the counter and guided him out of the bathroom, hand loosely in hand. Noah steered them in the direction of Nicholas' room, but he stopped just shy of the door. Before he could ask, Nicholas sheepishly asked if he could sleep in his room instead. Noah thought it silly to ask—this was Nicholas' house and his room was merely the guest room—but he agreed; of course he did.
Noah turned them in the opposite direction, past the bathroom, past the study to the end of the hall and opened the door. His bed was still neatly made, the curtains drawn just enough to let in a little light. He let go of Nicholas' hand to close them while he climbed into the bed.
The last thing Noah wanted to do was leave him alone, but he needed to grab blood and clean up the small puddles by the piano. Plus, he needed to find Jolly, more than he needed to clean blood.
With a chaste kiss to the cheek, Noah promised he'd be quick. He shut the door behind him then debated where to start first. His eyes wandered to the closed study door. It seemed good a place as any.
Quietly, he opened the door and stepped inside. The space was tidy, not a pen or book out of place. Everything was where it should be; no clutter on the desk, and no sign of Jolly. Noah frowned then exited.
The door to Nicholas' bedroom was slightly ajar. Noah grimaced at the loud squeak it gave as he slipped inside. The space was less tidy than the office. His bed was unmade, dresser drawers half opened with clothes threatening to spill over the edges. The closet doors were wide open and various robes that belonged to Jolly laid in heaps on the ground, along with Jolly.
His urn rested on its side, thankfully unopened. However, Noah's sigh of relief was short lived.
The mirror was broken.
“Oh… Nick…” Noah whispered, feeling his heart shatter.
An impact mark the size of a fist spider webbed out, the crack just below where his heart would be—and exactly where he imagined Nicholas'. Shards littered the floor and clung to the frame. His reflection was distorted, limbs disconnected from his body and warped.
Noah crouched down and set Jolly upright, giving the urn a pressed, thin smile.
"I wish I knew what to say." Noah said. "I hope he didn't throw you at the mirror too."
He looked over the urn; save for a few scratches, it was mostly unscathed. Noah stood, Jolly in hand and turned his attention back to the mirror.
"Nick's told me a lot about you, separately and together. He still wears the engagement necklace." He glanced down at the urn. "He asked me when we started dating if it bothered me, and I told him no."
Noah paused as if he were waiting for a reply. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, but he paid it no mind.
"He's… He still struggles. He still misses and loves you so much. I'm sure you know that though."
Silence.
"I wish I could make it easier for him, you know? I don't want to erase what you had together, that's the last thing I want. I just… I don't want him to feel guilty for moving on, or trying to. Nick deserves to be happy, to love, and to be loved."
Noah chuckled lightly.
"Actually, he more or less told me he loved me today. I didn't say it back. I should have. It just caught me by surprise, and if I'm honest, I'm not sure if he knows he said it."
He frowned.
"Nick had a… big breakdown and there was… a lot of disconnect and emotion flying around. I hope he meant it, because I love him too. So much. More than I know how to say or show. I guess I should start by saying it back first, huh?"
Noah looked at the urn, at Jolly. He tried to visualize him, but he'd only ever seen pictures and paintings. He didn't know how tall he was, how thick his accent was. He wondered if they'd be friends in a different time, if he and Nicholas would still meet. Noah's certain they wouldn't be together if Jolly were still alive.
"I'll take good care of him, Jolly. I promise. I know I'll never come close to you, but I just want to give Nicholas the love we both know he deserves."
Noah took much longer the anticipated taking it upon himself to tidy Nick's room before heading back down stairs. He returned Jolly to his rightful place in the piano, that same chilling feeling creeping over him as he walked to the kitchen. He swore he saw someone in his periphery, but when he turned to look, no one was there.
When he went back to the guest room, Nicholas was dozing—not quite asleep, but in between. He perked up, greeting Noah with a sleepy smile that warmed his chest. Noah crawled in beside him while he devoured the blood bag.
Nicholas wastes no time wrapping his limbs entirely around Noah, leeching his body heat all for himself. Silence filled the minuscule space between them as unconsciousness tugged at Noah's eyes.
"You didn't say it back." Nicholas mumbled.
"Hm?"
He squeezed Noah tighter.
"Earlier. I told you I love you, and you didn't say it back."
Oh.
There was a beat of silence. Noah untangled Nicholas' limbs from his and turned to face him. Exhaustion plagued his features—sunken eyes lacking their sparkle, skin dull and paler than usual, sadness and grief etched so deeply in his frown, in every little wrinkle and line. Noah grasped Nicholas' injured hand, placing a feather light kiss to the palm before nestling, cradling it against his chest.
"I wasn't sure if you knew what you said, or if you… meant it like that." The confession came as a whisper, quieter and more vulnerable than Noah intended.
"Why wouldn't I mean it?"
Under different circumstances, Noah would find his pout adorable. He almost felt guilty for doubting his sincerity.
"Well—"
His words were cut off by Nicholas pressing a clumsy kiss to his lips. Noah followed his lead, letting him take what he wanted, be greedy as humanly possible, until they were both breathless and Noah was positive he could feel Nicholas' heart beating again.
Noah went easily when Nicholas tugged him, perching himself in his lap, caging his hips between his knees—but when his hands slipped under his shirt, he stopped.
"Noah…" he whined. Noah chuckled softly, amused
"I know, Nick, I know." He brushed their noses together. "You don't need to prove it. I believe you."
"But—"
Noah silenced him with a kiss.
"I love you too."
"You do?"
"I do."
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