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His phone buzzes on the bedside table, and Nick groans in half-asleep frustration.
He doesn’t know who the fuck is calling him right now, nor what time it is. All he can hear is the buzzing, and the faint sound of the FaceTime ringtone. And Nick knows he could let it ring until whoever it is gets the hint and leaves him alone to sleep. But is he that kind of guy?
He lifts his face off the pillow, his hand reaching out and missing a few times to grab his iPhone from the table. His hair is in his face, probably in his mouth, and he curses himself for having fallen asleep without tying it back.
The phone stops ringing just as he finally gets it close enough to him, and he groans once more. Of course, just his luck, right? He slams the phone face down onto the mattress next to him in annoyance, but just as he lays his head back down…
Jesus Christ, there it fucking is again.
“Son of a bitch! ” He’s exhausted, he’s grumpy, and he’s half tempted to throw the device across the room and go the fuck back to bed. He flips his phone back over, the light of the screen blinding as he just barely manages to read the contact name with bleary eyes.
Noah.
Noah?
He squints at the time. It’s 3:41AM on a Tuesday, and Noah is FaceTiming him? Better yet, he’s calling him twice in a row now?
The frustration turns into worry. And worry turns into anxiety. Nicholas rubs one of his eyes, eyebrows knit together in concern.
It wasn’t like he was the only one worried about Noah. Everyone was. Folio was, Jolly was, Matt was… they all were. Tour had been hard on everyone, sure, but if you absolutely had to ask them who had taken the stress and the demand the hardest, they’d all tell you the exact same person.
Noah had really stuck it out for a long time, but Nick knew his boyfriend could only take so much. He’d started to lose sleep, his appetite suffered, his energy had hit an all time low, and the longer things went on, the more unhappy he’d begun to look on stage. Smiles could only be faked for so long.
“ Nick, you worry too much. ” Noah had told him, and he put on one of those fake smiles again. It was so forced that it made the bassist visibly cringe.
God, those beautiful brown eyes of Noah’s— they usually held this light in them, so bright that Nick was certain that it would put the sun to shame. When he smiled, they’d twinkle as they scrunched up into those pretty crescent shapes.
So when he put on that fake smile, there was no even giving Noah the benefit of the doubt. That smile did not reach his eyes, and it did not mask the emotional turmoil within him.
He knew then, that it was only a matter of time. And when it came, it came in the form of a makeshift intervention for Noah, one that had led to tears, then apologies, and finally, he’d given in. The shows needed to be canceled, Noah was too burnt out to continue like that.
That was in May. Now, it’s September. And Noah is FaceTiming him at nearly 4 in the morning.
Nicholas probably shouldn’t be fearing the worst right now, but he is. What if Noah’s having a breakdown? What if he’s reached his breaking point? What if he’s crying, or he’s drinking, or he’s making some bullshit reckless decision just to feel something?
Sleepiness doesn’t matter anymore. Nick’s thumb swipes quickly to answer the call. He doesn’t know what state he’s going to see the love of his life in, but he’s prepared to help him. He’s prepared to be his anchor to ground him. He is ready to be whatever Noah Sebastian needs him to be.
“Are you okay? Are you safe?” Nick blurts it out the moment the call connects, the worry overtaking him like a concerned mother.
“Uh. Hey.” But he’s instead greeted with Noah, his phone resting against something on his desk, laptop pulled up, headphones around his neck, completely… fine. In fact, he looks great.
In the past, he’d seen Noah in worse states. Like in early June, sleep deprived and disheveled as he tried to work on music despite having been told to just relax for once in his life . Or in mid July, in tears on his bathroom floor, wondering if he’d ruined the band forever, hating himself and everything he’d ever made.
Today, he is clean shaven, he’s wearing a Naruto shirt that is not only clean, but not wrinkled. His hair is freshly washed and neat, his bangs split down the middle. It’s getting a little longer, Nick notices, and he’s not sure if he likes that or loves that.
On one hand, he misses Noah’s long hair sometimes, like when they lived together. Sometimes he’d tie it back into a messy bun and Nick’s chest would feel warm all of a sudden. On the other, the shorter haircut suited him so well; it was softer and fluffy, and sometimes when Noah was exhausted enough, he’d use his lap as a pillow and fall asleep, while Nick gently stroked his hair, playing idly with the dark brown locks.
Wait, hold on. Noah looks completely fine. So he’s not in distress, or doing something stupid, he’s just… totally good. At 4 o’clock in the morning. FaceTiming him.
“Noah, what the fuck.” He runs his hand over his face, that grumpiness starting to seep right back into his voice. “Do you know how late it is?”
“Did I disrupt your beauty rest?” There’s a playfulness in his voice, and Nick’s not sure if he wants to kiss him or punch him for it. Maybe both.
“As a matter of fact,” Nick yawns loudly, “you did. What the hell are you calling me at 4 in the morning for?”
“To make you ask questions. It worked.” This time, Noah grins, and that alone is almost enough to make Nick forget why he’s annoyed with him. Because he sees it. That light, even through the iPhone camera, it’s there. The sun is back. His sun is back, the clouds have finally cleared.
“Noah Sebastian Davis.”
“Whoa, okay, okay!” He raises his hands up off his keyboard in surrender. “I’m sorry!”
“C’mon man, it’s late. Why are you calling me?” Nick rubs one of his eyes with a hand, yawning once more as he tries to wake himself up.
“Bored.”
“And?”
“What do you mean, ‘and’?”
“The real reason, Noah.”
Noah pauses, and then he sighs, hating that Nick is right.
“I’m lonely and I miss you.” He leans his cheek against his hand, elbow rested on the arm of his computer chair. The bassist smiles to himself at the confession.
“So you choose 4 in the morning to miss me?” God damn it, he couldn’t be mad at Noah if he tried. Not when he’s the happiest he’s looked in months. So he sighs, and his boyfriend smiles because he knows exactly what that sigh means.
“I miss you all the time. Just… a little extra right now is all.” Noah’s words hang in the air, and for a moment his gaze moves elsewhere.
Noah isn’t very good with articulating the way he feels. It’s what makes being a songwriter for a band so nice sometimes, but even that has its limitations.
When things began to get bad during the tour, he didn’t say anything about it. He figured that if he put on a brave face and kept pushing, the exhaustion and the dread of waking up in the morning would eventually pass. So every day, he’d get up even though it felt like he hadn’t slept in days. Some days, he’d wish he woke up so unbearably sick he’d have to cancel a show. But if that actually happened, he knew damn well he’d try to perform anyway. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans, or his friends, or his boyfriend.
God, no. Never Nick. Not when he hardly felt worthy of being loved so unconditionally by him to begin with.
And by May, it had gotten so bad that Noah felt numb. Fake smiles only got him so far, until one morning he woke up later than expected, but when he went to greet everyone, they were all just… sitting there. Like they’d been waiting for him.
It had only taken one question. Three words.
“ Are you okay? ” And Noah had shattered like glass.
It wasn’t easy to bounce back from that. The first month being home, Noah did not want to actually take a break. Sure, he’d agreed to it, he let the shows be canceled, go home, no problem in theory. But in practice? Fuck that.
So the cycle repeated itself, just in the comfort of his own home. It didn’t last very long however; all it had taken was one FaceTime call with Nick where he’d been awake for 48 hours, genuinely hysterical from lack of sleep, for his MacBook to be taken away from him by Jolly. That had led to an argument while Noah was still sleep deprived, and it had ended in him saying some things he didn’t mean, throwing a glass plate on the floor in upset, and profuse apologies.
That had driven him a little crazy too. In the haze of success, self expectations that were way too high to reach, and the non stop pushing, and pushing, and pushing, Noah had begun to forget what else he genuinely enjoyed doing. He liked music, and making music, and singing for his music, and producing his music, and- well, it goes on.
Nick would come over sometimes, but he honestly missed when they lived together a lot. Just the comfort in knowing his boyfriend would be just down the hall if he needed him… not in different houses. Jolly was nice to live with of course, that’s his best friend, but Nick.
But now it’s September, and though he thought the misery would never end, it did. Most of it, anyway. Therapy helped a lot with that; the practice of radical acceptance. While pain is inevitable, suffering is optional . Getting back into working out, meditating, playing video games here and there, even flying out to see Folio and go fucking fishing , it all helped.
Now that he has his MacBook back, it’s all even better. He has never felt so inspired, so ready and excited to create. That night, he’d been working on a song for hours , and it’s something he’s proud of. Truly, genuinely proud of.
Then he got lonely. He’s an introverted person, he doesn’t mind being alone most of the time. Plus, Jolly does live here so he’s not necessarily alone. Though, he is most certainly asleep; when Noah had gone downstairs to get water, that motherfucker was snoring so loud it sounded like ASMR of a clogged drain.
He knows what he’s missing right now; Nick. Always Nick. His smile every morning no matter how exhausted or generally over it he is. The way his laugh sounds, that real laugh, the one that shakes his shoulders or makes him have to physically grab onto something to keep himself from doubling over. The way his fingers look when he plays the bass, or when they’re interlocked with Noah’s.
He misses holding Nick’s hand so much. Or when he can trace over the moon phase tattoos on his fingers. Sometimes he says that Noah is like the sun, and if that’s the case Nick is his moon. His blue eyes put the stars to shame with how bright they are. When he smiles, his face lights up with this ethereal glow that Noah has already written a song about.
For that reason alone, he sometimes wishes Bad Omens made softer music. If they did, he’d make an entire album about how Nicholas Ruffilo makes him feel, and the fanbase could speculate who it’s about for eternity.
Noah wonders if a contest between Nick and the moon would be fair, but if it were to happen, the vocalist thinks his boyfriend might win.
“I miss you too, babe.” There’s a shuffling sound that’s just barely picked up in the microphone as Nick sits up, reaching to turn on the lamp at his bedside. The light is so blinding that he makes a face when it turns on, and Noah snickers at the sight of it.
“Sorry I woke you though. Just really needed to hear your voice.” Noah reaches up to rake a hand through his hair, sighing in contentment. “Mind staying up for a bit?”
“Of all the people in the world, you are the only person I will wake up and stay up for. You know that.” In Nick’s mind, it is not even a question. Noah needs company, he’s got it. He needs a place to stay, he’s got it. He needs an alibi after committing a heinous crime, fuck it, he’s got it.
“I’m grateful to have you, y’know.” Noah smiles at his phone screen, pulling his headphones from around his neck and setting them down somewhere offscreen.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Noah isn’t good at feelings, but tonight he wants to try. Perhaps it’s okay to be bad at things as long as you try. “I just- I feel so lucky to have you.”
“Where’s all this coming from?” Nick’s smiling as he sets his phone down to face up at the ceiling for a moment. He digs a hair tie out of his drawer, tying his bed head back into a half-assed ponytail, then picks his phone back up.
“I just feel like after everything this past year, I need to tell you how much I appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me.” Noah’s voice is soft and sincere and he’s definitely sounded like this before, but it feels different this time.
“You never need to tell me you appreciate me. I know you do.”
“Then I want to.”
Well, Nick can’t discourage him from doing something he wants, especially not something like this. He’s not used to it from Noah, but it’s still sweet and very, very welcomed.
“Okay,” He says. “Then I want to listen.”
“I don’t always know what to say. I still don’t think I do, but fuck it I need to try. You’ve just- you’ve seen me through so much. There’s times where I feel like, if it were me, I would’ve just walked away on myself.” Noah’s talking with his hands as he tries to articulate his point. “But you didn’t. You’ve never once walked away from me.”
Nick knows what he means. They have a long history together, dating back to when they were teenagers. Sure, Noah was sometimes impulsive or did stupid shit. He had his good times, and he had his points where he was at his lowest. But walk away? Never. He would never do what he knows others in Noah’s life did; and even if that wasn’t a factor he still wouldn’t have.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You could tell me to walk away and I still wouldn’t do it, Noah. You could, uh, I don’t know… uhhh…”
“Kill someone.”
“Kill someone- kill someone? That’s your- never mind.” He shakes his head. He’s used to Noah’s antics. “Sure, you could kill someone and I wouldn’t walk away from you. But I would call you a dumbass.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Noah laughs through his words, adoring his boyfriend’s honesty. “No, but-... that means a lot to me. Looking back on it now, I can’t believe how far we’ve come. Look at us now, you know?”
“Yeah.” Nick suddenly feels breathless as he reflects on it himself. “Look at us now.”
“There’s genuinely… no one else in this world, that I’d rather have at my side than you. You’ve helped shape me into who I am, and I see you in my future. Together, just like this.”
“Noah…”
“Just- just let me. Please .”
“Okay.” Nick goes quiet, unable to contain the smile on his lips.
“I want to grow old with you. Maybe get married or some shit when we’re a little older and have it all figured out more. If we, ever really have it figured out. I genuinely can’t fucking imagine my life without you.” Just slightly, Noah’s voice wavers. Nick almost doesn’t catch it. Hearing it makes his heart melt.
Nick parts his lips to reply, but then he closes them again. No, he’ll let his boyfriend continue, he can tell this is difficult for him to do. He couldn’t be prouder of him.
“I thought I was going to lose all of this.” Noah admits, and then he exhales. The breath is shaky. “The band, everything we worked for, the fans, the love of music, fuck… you. All of it. So I kept pushing because I really didn’t know what I’d do with myself if all of these things I worked so hard for, we worked so hard for, ended up meaning absolutely nothing because of me.”
Then, Noah sobs, softly. He runs a hand over his face, partially to wipe the tears away and partially because he’s a little embarrassed of exposing his soul like this.
But this is something he’s been working toward in therapy; the honesty. Talking about how he feels, telling people how he feels about them. He eyes the camera and sees that concerned look on Nick’s face, so he smiles.
The smile isn’t forced, it isn’t fake. His eyes still scrunch up, and they still twinkle. The sun is still shining just fine. So Nick relaxes and smiles back. The moon is glowing once more.
“Babe?” He speaks up anyway, and Noah lifts his head a little.
“Yeah?”
“I’m so fucking proud of you .”
“Fuck.” Noah covers his face with his hands and weeps into them. He doesn’t even realize how much he needed to hear those words until they’re spoken to him.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’m lucky that I’ve been able to see you through all this shit that life’s thrown at you. Getting older with you like this, being able to love you like this.” Now it’s Nick’s turn to talk, and his voice is wavering all the way through. Between the two of them, he’s probably the one that’s more in tune with his emotions. In cases like these, yeah. He’ll cry.
“I love you so fucking much Nick you don’t even know, I wish I had the words to describe it but I don’t and...” Noah’s words are muffled through his hands. He sobs again.
“I love you. I don’t need you to describe how much you love me, I feel it. I know it.” Nick reaches up to wipe at his eyes. This is not the sort of thing he expects at 4AM on a Tuesday, but he still wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“I know, I just wish I could.” Noah finally moves his hands away, and he cringes at the sight of how blotchy and red his face is. “Fuck. Ugh.” He reaches offscreen to grab a tissue.
For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between them. No words, and that’s okay. They just look at each other and maybe there’s an unspoken conversation between them, a mutual understanding of the love they share. An understanding that doesn’t require a single word nor syllable.
“I think we should grow old together. So we can be two grouchy old men in some nursing home.” Nick speaks up first, and though it’s a stupid thing to say it makes Noah chuckle anyway.
“Jeeeesus, imagine us in a nursing home. You think I’ll still be able to growl when I’m that old?”
“I hope so. It’d scare the shit out of the nurses. They’d think you need an exorcism.”
They’re both cracking up laughing at the thought. A 93 year old Noah, growling like a demon straight out of hell, probably causing some poor soul to piss themselves. With his tired and constantly disapproving husband next to him, probably still headbanging along next to him.
“Fuck, that’s funny.” By the time they both stop laughing, Noah’s wiping tears out of his eyes for a new, much better reason. “Oh god, I needed that laugh. I’m going to be thinking about that for the next two days.”
“Every time I think of us growing old from now on, that’s what I’m gonna think about and I’m not sure if I like that or hate it.” Nick chuckles, shaking his head as he too, wipes tears from his eyes. “Oh, by the way.”
“Yeah?”
“Is your front door unlocked?”
“Uhhh, no? Why?”
“Unlock it, I’m coming over.” Nick holds his phone firmly as he stands up, looking around on his bedroom floor for his shoes.
“What? Dude, it’s 4 in the morning.” Noah’s eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are wide at how dead serious his boyfriend is being about this.
“I’m lonely and I miss you.”
Noah stares at him through the screen for a minute, realizing how his words have been thrown right back at him, and his heart warms in his chest. He really is so lucky.
“So are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna unlock the door?” Nick chuckles at the lovestruck expression on Noah’s face, and even more so at the way he snaps out of it. By now, he’s grabbed his coat and he’s just about to leave his house.
“Yeah! Yeah. I’ll go do that.”
“See you soon. I love you.”
“Love you too, Nick.” Call ended.
That night, Noah’s fingers are idly tracing the moon patterns on each of Nick’s fingers, and he is absolutely certain that there truly is no contest; Nicholas Ruffilo will always be far prettier than the moon.
Nick’s free hand plays with Noah’s dark brown locks, and only then does he think he has no preference on how long his hair grows. He’ll play with it like this either way.
The sun and the moon are together just as they should be. Eclipse.