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Mischa didn’t know when he had fallen in love with Noel Gruber. He just knew that one day he looked over to see his best friend and the first thought that went through his head was that he was absolutely beautiful.
Thoughts like those weren’t uncommon; Mischa made it known that he thought Noel was good-looking. No, what was strange was the way his breath caught in his throat, the way his heart started pounding a million beats faster, the way everything stopped for just a moment.
That. That was new.
His head was spinning with the revelation, and he must have been staring a second too long because Noel looked over, eyebrows scrunched in concern. It took everything in him to not flinch in shock.
“Hey Misch, you good?” Noel raised an eyebrow, blissfully unaware of the crisis Mischa was having.
“Yeah, yeah, I am fine. Did not get enough sleep last night, is all,” he said, making up a dumb excuse for his odd behavior. Noel narrowed his eyes at him, but didn’t push. He hesitantly unpaused the movie they were watching and that was that.
Later that night, Mischa paced around his room, wondering what the hell had happened. He collapsed onto his bed face-first, groaning. After giving himself a few seconds to think he rolled over. He stared at the ceiling, drowning in his thoughts. Since when did he get nervous around Noel Gruber? Start thinking he was beautiful?
And really, he knew what was going on. Sweaty palms, heart palpitations, nervousness. Oh, he knew.
He was in love.
He was in love with his best friend.
And that was all they would ever be.
He knew that, but god fucking damn it did it hurt. He turned to his side, sighing. He was resigned to his fate.
That night was a restless one.
“Yo! Noel!” Mischa called, making his way towards the taller boy. “Morning, man!”
He swung an arm over Noel’s shoulders, relishing the contact.
“Morning, Misch.” He smiled at Mischa, and he swore his heart stopped right then and there. He only paused for half a second, before continuing to walk with Noel towards the school building.
After choir, the boys entered Mischa’s car. He drove Noel home every day. It was routine, it was comfortable, it was safe. He inserted a CD into its player and let rap blast the entire ride through. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light, and he could see Noel’s concerned face out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it, along with the pang in his chest.
He stopped at the curb of Noel’s house, as per usual. Noel opened the car door, as per usual. Then he turned around and wrapped his arms around the Ukrainian boy, muttering a goodbye.
“You’ve been off all day.” He waved before he closed the door to his house.
That was... not usual. In fact, it was unusual. He hated the way his face had heated up at the strange gesture. He hated the way his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. Most of all, he hated how much he loved it, how much he loved Noel.
He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel and let out a long-suffering groan. He slowly drove home, head spinning.
God, was Noel going to be the death of him.
After that, Mischa tried his best to act the same. He didn't want Noel noticing anything strange, and he succeeded, for the most part. He kept the longing glances to a minimum, tried not to be overly touchy, and refrained from blurting out every single thought he had. For the most part.
An arm swung over his shoulder.
I love you.
Driving him home.
I love you.
Messing up his hair.
I love you.
Listening to every bit of music he sent him.
I love you.
“я тебе кохаю.”
I love you.
“What?” Noel looked confused, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing important.” Mischa shrugged, as if he didn’t feel a pit in his stomach filled with dread in hopes that Noel wouldn’t understand what he just said.
“Sure.” An unimpressed look came across Noel’s face, but he didn’t ask again. He went back to painting Mischa’s nails; he had picked a dark maroon color. Mischa drank in the sight in front of him: the curve of Noel’s shoulders, the way the tip of his tongue poked out when he was concentrating, and the way his brows were knit together. The overwhelming feeling of want was suffocating him, and at this point, he let it wash over him. He raised his eyes towards the roof, imagining this were any other scenario where Noel was delicately holding his hand and not just practicing applying nail polish.
He looked down to find Noel staring right at him. He involuntarily jerked away, nearly messing up the nail polish.
“Oops. Sorry about that, dude.” Mischa shot him a sheepish grin.
“It’s fine.” Noel shrugged. He grabbed Mischa’s hand and continued like nothing had gone on. Mischa allowed himself one fond smile, a few more seconds, before looking around the room.
He ignored the pain in his chest, longing for more.
The rest of the choir noticed. Some of them might’ve noticed before he did. He could see the way Ocean would give him pointed looks when he talked to Noel. He knew why Penny nudged him when Noel walked into the room. He could see Ricky roll his eyes and sign ‘lovebirds’ every time he was caught staring just a little too long.
Constance was the one to speak up about it, though.
“Mischa! Can I borrow you for a second?” she asked, waving him down. Mischa and Noel looked at each other, shrugged, and Mischa was walking back inside the school in no time. Constance immediately cornered him in the hallway.
“Everyone knows you like Noel.” Mischa blinked.
“That was forward,” he said. He wasn’t going to deny it. It wasn’t like he could deny it. He was getting increasingly obvious.
“When are you going to do something about it?” Constance said.
“Dude. What? Why would I do something about it?” Constance gave him a look that said Really? before she realized he was being dead serious.
“Oh my God. Are you dense?” Mischa just looked increasingly befuddled. “Noel likes you back?”
“Constance. You are crazy.”
“No! He totally does!”
“He does not.”
“He always hangs out with you.”
“We are friends, no?”
“He does not hang out with the rest of us that much.”
“We are best friends.”
“He literally flirts with you all the time.” She just got a blank stare in return.
“That’s just who he is.”
“That’s who he is WITH YOU!” Constance said. “Oh, whatever. Just drive him home and think about it.”
They walked outside. The air was crisp. Noel was on his phone when Mischa opened the door.
“What did you talk about?” he asked. He picked at his nails, already peeling off the black nail polish.
“Nothing much. Random stuff.” Mischa threw his bag in the backseat and started the car. He debated telling Noel what Constance had told him. He decided against it.
“Cool, cool. Like what?” Noel asked, body leaning towards Mischa. It was almost subconscious, and Mischa’s mind wandered back to what Constance had said.
“Eh. Telling me to do something.” Mischa waved his hand as if to wave the question away. Noel pressed his lips into a thin line, torn between not wanting to push Mischa and wanting to know what had gone down.
The ride home was tense.
Mischa could not stop thinking about what Constance had said. He went through every conversation, every interaction with Noel. Surely he didn’t like him back? Everything he remembered could be played off as a joke, something friends do, right?
It was a Saturday, and he and Noel were supposed to hang out. Movie night in the basement, though it would be hard to get past his adoptive parents. He scowled at the thought of them. Noel was supposed to come over at 1, so they could hang out.
Mischa sucked in a breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it all out. He sunk a bit lower into his mattress. His brain needed to shut up, he did not need false hope.
He heard a knock on his door and got up to open it, finding Noel on the other side. Mischa let him in, and Noel immediately sat in Mischa’s bed. He mentally prepared himself for a night of sitting next to Noel. Noel, Noel, Noel. It had been weeks since he first realized he was in love with him. He let out a sigh, dismissing the concerned look Noel gave him, and told him to continue going on about his day. Noel was not going to let this slide, though.
“Misch, what has been going on?” He sat up a bit straighter.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been acting different.”
“Different? Different how?” Mischa was getting worried. Had Noel figured it out?
“I don’t know! That’s the thing! You’ve just been quieter, but not all the time. Especially after Constance said whatever she said to you a few days ago! You’ve been off, and you won’t tell me fucking anything about it!” Noel threw his hands in the air, gesturing wildly. “I’m your best friend. Shouldn’t I know what’s going on with you?” he asked weakly.
“That’s exactly it Noel.” Holy shit. Mischa, shut up. “It’s- Nevermind.”
“Don’t you fucking dare-”
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU,” Mischa shouted. He immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. Noel’s mouth was hung agape. “Cannot believe I’m fucking- I’m in love with you, okay? Is that better?” His voice was muffled by his hand.
He took the hand off his mouth and ran it through his hair, letting out a huge sigh.
“Did not want to say anything because we’re supposed to be friends. You are my best friend, Noel Gruber.” His hands moved to his thighs, tapping anxiously. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Oh, Mischa...” Noel gently turned Mischa’s face so he was looking at him. “You are so fucking dense.”
“What?”
“I’ve literally been flirting with you the past few months.”
“Holy shit, Constance was right.”
“Constance what now?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Noel raised an eyebrow. “She told me you totally had crush on me.”
“That little- And you still thought I didn’t like you?”
“I thought you were just like that!”
“Oh my God, why do I like you again?” Noel laughed, pinching Mischa’s cheeks. “Is this enough to get through your thick skull?”
And then he kissed him. It wasn’t anything scandalous, just a quick peck on the lips, but Mischa’s brain immediately bluescreened. Noel pulled back, concerned, before realizing what had happened. He burst out laughing. Mischa’s face reddened.
“Is not funny!” he exclaimed, but he was holding back a smile of his own.
“It’s a little bit funny,” Noel said in between laughter. “Forgive me?”
“Hmm, sorry. Maybe you’ll have to kiss me again.”
And so he did.