Archive of Our Own

Noah is often petty.

He is so petty, that when Tyler made a crude joke about how he must be ‘oh so sad ’ that he wasn’t put on a team with Cody this season, he stood from his seat and placed his hands on his hips with a glare.

“Why don’t you focus on convincing your girlfriend that you’re actually you.” He snarked. At the sight of Tyler’s angry scowl, and the sound of Owen’s giggles from his left, he stalked out of the economy class, and down the hall to the confessional.

Only a few hours had passed since the end of the Egypt challenge, and Noah could feel himself already losing his mind. No matter how many times he emptied his shoes, he could feel the warm desert sand pooling in the fabric of his socks and between the creases in his clothing. He could feel it in his hair and still stuck to his skin, and more than anything, it burrowed under his fingernails, and left his hands dry and scaly.

The heat didn’t help, either. Economy class obviously didn’t have air conditioning, so ever since they took off, he could feel himself slowly melting. Everybody around him seemed to be having a slightly worse time, though; Tyler’s god-awful tracksuit was stained with sweat, and Lindsay was lying down on one of the benches, complaining loudly and fanning herself with a paperback book she had taken from his luggage.

His luggage.

“Who does she think she is…” He muttered, scowling down at the dark metal flooring as he strode past the community mess hall. To his relief, nobody was there to witness his aggravated retreat, so he continued to walk on past, and only stopped when he reached the flimsy, plastic door to the confessional.

He could feel the gentle breeze of cool air floating down the hallway from first class, and the faint smell of cookies and air-freshener paired with it as he turned to glance at the yellow dividing curtain. The sight of it made him scowl even harder, as if he might be able to change the outcome of the last challenge simply by staring at the winners quarters hard enough. But no, even as he stared, it didn’t whisk away the distant sounds of the Amazon’s arguing.

That eased the frown on his face. It was a small consolation, but he would bet a million bucks that every member of that team – except Sierra, maybe. – would kill to be sitting in economy right now if it meant they were on a team with other people.

A very small consolation.

He’s not sure what he expected, really, maybe for somebody to poke their head out and roll their eyes at him as he walked into the stall to ‘confess his sins’ or whatever. But no, even as he lingers, not quite touching the door’s handle, nobody’s there to watch as he tries to pull the door open for the first time that season…

…But it doesn’t open, and Noah looks down in confusion at the door handle, until he tilts his head back with a sigh of overwhelming annoyance, because the sign is red . Somebody’s already inside.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, and rapped swiftly on the door. “Hurry it up in there.”

The door doesn’t immediately open, but from the other side of the barrier, he heard an almost exasperated sigh, and the sound of a shoe tapping against airplane flooring.

“There are other bathrooms, you know, and you don’t sound like you’re doing a-” He scowled, but to his surprise, the door swung open before he could finish his sentence. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding being smacked in the face by the swinging door, and whipped his head around to glance at the person on the other side of the threshold, and-

Oh.

It was Alejandro.

He was pushing his hair back with an expression of almost exasperated annoyance sitting on his face, and his eyes glinted dangerously under the fluorescent lighting, almost like green pools of acid. Despite the heat, and the sweat obviously dripping against his forehead, Alejandro looked like the picture of perfection against the backdrop of the dingy bathroom.

He could be Apollo's muse . Noah gaped, blinking up at the boy before him. He could be Apollo himself .

But he shook his head, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Alejandro’s collarbones and the neckline of his shirt, to instead meet his eyes directly.

That’s insanely inappropriate, there are cameras everywhere.

The annoyed look on Alejandro’s face seemed to melt off the moment he met eyes with Noah, and to Noah’s surprise, it was replaced almost instantly with an easy smile.

“Noah! My… favorite teammate!” He mused, and stepped to the side, gesturing him through the door. The pause in his sentence made Noah jolt, with annoyance or something else, he couldn’t tell. “I do apologize for taking the confessional up for as long as I did. Please, go ahead.”

Noah raised a sarcastic eyebrow, and placed his hands on his hips.

“Your… favorite teammate?” He questioned. “Isn’t it a little early in the game for you to be deciding something like that?”

He didn’t look phased, in fact, the other boy only took a step closer, grinning down at him despite their minimal height difference. Noah made no attempt to move, instead glaring up at him with the same expression he had on his face when talking to Tyler only moments prior.

“I believe that you are all my favorite teammates, my friend.” he spoke, and Noah’s insides flipped . “You are correct, for now, I adore you all equally.”

“...Whatever, were you even doing a confessional in there?” Noah responded, his mouth suddenly dry, and Alejandro pulled back slightly, his shit-eating grin giving way for a nervous, modest, fake , smile. “You weren’t- I didn’t hear you speak.”

“...If you must know, I was simply taking a reprieve from our- ah- fellow contestants. After two seasons, I am sure you can understand where I am coming from when I say that I require a break.”

Noah paused, and blinked slightly. That was exactly what he was coming to the confessional for as well, and, god, if that wasn’t one of the most relatable sentences he had heard anybody say on this god-awful show.

So he sighed, and let some of the tension seep from his shoulders.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.” He muttered, and for some reason, Alejandro looked almost surprised, like he didn’t expect him to just admit it to him. “I was gonna do the same thing… and, well, maybe complain to the camera about Tyler and his aggressively fluorescent tracksuit.”

This made Alejandro laugh, a light, bubbly laugh that seemed strangely genuine, despite how sure Noah was that it definitely wasn’t . His shoulders dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“It truly is so… intense .” He hummed, voice filled with amusement. “I see that you do understand why I do not wish to return to economy-class quite yet.”

Noah snorted, and suddenly, was struck with an idea.

It probably wasn’t a good one, in fact, it was definitely a bad one, no matter how he thought about it. But , it was an idea that sent a thrilling chill down his spine, and one that could get him closer to gaining a new ally, no matter how early in the game it was…

“Why don’t-” He paused, and Alejandro raised a graceful eyebrow in interest. He looked so genuinely invested in what Noah had to say that for a moment, he couldn’t quite get the words out. But eventually, he managed to speak aloud once again. “We could go down to the cargo hold? It’s probably quieter, and, I don't know, cooler down there?”

He averted his gaze from the boy before him, and pretended to gaze nonchalantly at the yellow curtain separating them from first class. He felt his back pressing up against the cold metal hallway wall. For a few moments, Alejandro didn’t respond, and Noah thought he was going to refuse, but soon, the other boy let out a quiet breathy laugh, and stepped so close to him that Noah could feel his warm breath fanning over his cheeks. Two of his fingers moved to tilt his head up towards his, and instantly, Noah found himself staring up into those two green eyes once again.

Green, acidic, and greasy . But that didn’t stop his heart from almost lurching out of his chest.

“You’re suggesting we whisk ourselves away to a highly exclusive area of the plane, together , mi amigo?”

“Not when you put it like that.” Noah scowled, gently smacking the hand away from his chin. This didn’t seem to deter Alejandro in the slightest, instead, he simply stood up straight again, and placed his hands on his hips with a grin.

“The audience will not think the same as we do, dear Noah.”

 “...The audience aren’t the ones stuck on a plane with a dozen teenagers with no manners. Are you in, or do you want to go back to Izzy and her ‘parkour’?” He looked him up and down, and Alejandro looked positively delighted , so much so, that he tipped his head back to laugh.

“There is nothing I would rather do.” He laughed, trailing after Noah as he began to stride back the way they had come, and yanking open the door they had been specifically told not to open, the one that obviously led to the cargo hold.

For a moment, a brief, tiny moment, Noah almost believes him.

Noah is so, so selfish.

This hasn’t always been the case, but he's beginning to think he might be picking up another negative trait to add to his collection.

The Yukon is cold, but the ice that filled his blood when he saw Alejandro and Bridgette standing by the pole is colder than any snow that their sleigh had been pulled through that entire challenge. It had been mellowed, only slightly, when the other boy leapt onto the sleigh and left Bridgette with her tongue stuck to said pole, but still, the way he had looked at Noah when they had made eye contact over the sound of Izzy’s overjoyed cackling and the squeaking of Tyler's shoes on the ice, was nothing like how he looked at Bridgette before he almost kissed her.

Like she was the only person in the world.

Now, however, huddled up in a first-class lounge chair, covered in more blankets than he can count, he watched as Alejandro strolled into the front of the plane, and clapped his hands together to attract everybody’s attention.

That’s all it takes: Owen, Tyler, and Izzy are silent in seconds.

“Wonderful work today, my friends!” He called, walking over to where their group was assembled. They were sitting in one of the groups of four chairs, all facing each other, and Noah was suddenly aware of the absence of a fifth seat. “Especially you, Tyler, your fingers are the talk of legends.”

“Thanks, bro! Lindsay would be so impressed if she remembered me…”

At this, Noah raised an eyebrow, and only just succeeded in masking a snort. It was obvious that Alejandro noticed, because he sent him an amused look before he turned back to the rest of them. Noah heard Owen let out a laugh, and he turned to Tyler and shook his head empathetically.

“I am sure she would be.” Alejandro said forlornly. “But we must persevere. Team Amazon is ruthless, so we must continue to do our absolute best, do you hear me, my friends?”

“Yeah, dude!”

“Woo! Alright!”

“Yes, sir, Al!”

Noah only hummed, and watched as Alejandro took a breath and clapped his hands together again, a signal that their small meeting was over. Owen decided that It was time for him to scavenge around the bar for snacks, and he was eagerly followed by Izzy, who began talking loudly about a new movie she had recently starred in. Tyler stood up, and announced that he was going to economy class to once again try to ‘ woo ’ Lindsay into remembering who he was.

And Alejandro, Alejandro , simply sat down in the seat Izzy had vacated, the one directly next to him, and turned to face him with a gentle smile.

“I’m getting the feeling that the Yukon was slightly too cold for your tastes, hm?” He questioned, and Noah felt his heart flutter. He simply rolled his eyes, and gave him a deadpan look as he held back a smile.

“Gee, why would you ever think that? I would’ve thought you were too busy with Bridgette to think about me at all.”

At this, the smile on Alejandro’s face faltered, and Noah watched as his lips twitched, seemingly about to say something, before he stopped, and he simply stared at him.

“...What? Shouldn’t you be sitting with her in economy class or something? Kissing like the next Total Drama scandal?” He scowled, and glanced at Izzy and Owen on the other side of the room. He hoped Alejandro wouldn’t be able to hear the venom projected in his voice.

“I- Bridgette and I were- She’s”

“I guess it’s none of my business, just don’t let it get in the way of the game, because-”

“She was voted off. Didn’t you hear, mi amigo? It was an elimination challenge.”

Noah snapped his mouth shut, and stared, almost embarrassed at the boy next to him. He looked almost concerned, an expression of almost worry flitting about his eyes as he looked him up and down, surveying his state of being.

Bridgette was gone, She had been eliminated. She had caused Team Victory’s loss, so she had been booted off the plane.

She had caused Team Victory’s loss, because she had tried to kiss Alejandro next to a metal pole, and Alejandro-

“...Oh.” He spoke, meeting the dark-haired boy’s eyes and his bloodstream flooding with warm, relieved red-blood cells once again. Alejandro’s gaze faltered, staring at him so hard that he was practically being examined, but the concerned expression on his face only melted into one of feigned sadness.

“Alas, it is reality, we were only just getting to know each other.” He sighed, and wistfully stared out of the window for a moment, before turning back to him and smiling. “But it is out of our control now, I only hope she had a safe descent down with the pole.”

This made Noah snort.

“Wait, she was still stuck to the pole?” He gaped, staring incredulously as Alejandro covered his mouth with his hand, obviously to cover a smirk. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I am not.” He hummed and smiled even more as Noah began to laugh. “She had to parachute down to the ground, pole and all.”

“Oh my god, Pole and all- ” He laughed, pushing some of the blankets away from him. Alejandro only nodded, a look of feigned mourning spread across his face. Now, with Alejandro sitting next to him, he felt a little bit less cold. “You’re evil .”

“Evil?!” He gasped, and Noah only laughed harder. “How could you say that?!”

“I don’t- christ , nevermind- I just thought you would be hanging around with Bridgette now, but she just jumped out of the plane, and I’m laughing about it after you almost kissed her-”

Noah’s laughs subsided, and he was left staring into Alejandro’s eyes once again, and to his surprise, he was looking at him like he was the only person in the world. Noah didn’t know what to do, so all he could do was stare back as his laughs finally halted.

Alejandro simply smiled, and leaned over, so that he was only inches away.

“Let me tell you a secret, my dear Noah.” He said decisively, and leaned forward, before Noah could say anything in return.

“ Even if Bridgette was still here, she does not compare to your company in the slightest .”

And he pulled away, still staring at him like he positively adored him. Noah gaped, eyes frantically searching for something in Alejandro’s expression that betrayed a lie, deception, a twist of words, anything .

But no. 

His eyes were completely focused on him, and from what he could tell, the boy before him was being completely and utterly genuine.

Completely and utterly genuine, but as he stared, Noah still felt it swimming around in his gut.

Selfishness, a want, a need .

Noah is lazy, lazy, lazy .

The laziness is so ingrained into him, such an integral part of his bone structure, that it costs him the win in not one, but two challenges.

Of course, it’s not enough to get them to lose, and one of them is not so much his fault, but still.

In New York, he falls asleep in the baby carriage and doesn’t notice when he gets swapped for an actual baby . Everything had just been so loud, and Alejandro’s hand had been resting on his knee, then his ankle, then his thigh as he pushed the carriage along. The lingering sensation of his touch had made him disappear into his own head, watching the challenge in a daze until he was so bored he simply fell asleep.

If it hadn’t been a reward challenge, he’s sure that he would’ve been voted off, but luckily for him, all that had happened was the Amazons throwing an extremely useful piece of equipment out of the plane. Tyler had given him an angry glare the moment they stepped on the plane, and Owen had simply shook his head with a sympathetic sigh.

Alejandro, however, had whisked him away and down the corridor, not bothering to pretend to go to the confessional, and instead yanking open the door to the cargo hold. He had practically dragged him down the stairs, and when they had stopped, he whipped around and stared at him, an expression in his eyes that Noah couldn’t quite comprehend.

“If you’re going to berate me-” He had started, but was cut off by Alejandro’s hands placed gently on his shoulders.

“This is not your fault, mi amigo. I would not have voted for you.”

Noah had been speechless. The display affection, Alejandro so sure of himself in his words, the way the other boy was staring at him so intently, he thought he was going to lean forward and-

It made Noah so confused, he had to sit down on one of the storage crates.

Because it was his fault, and Alejandro would have voted for him. But he was denying it, and he sounded so… truthful, that he hadn’t known what to do. This unfortunately, seemed like a common theme between his interactions with Alejandro.

The second challenge, he had practically let Leshawna smack him off the platform, and he had gone crashing face-first into the snow. Looking back on it, he doubts that he would have been able to take her down anyway, but as Alejandro had walked back into economy class, and settled down directly next to him – their shoulders touching, and his legs all but draped over Noah’s lap – with an exhausted sigh, he figures that he probably should have tried a little bit harder.

He ignored the fact that Alejandro had been the last one of them to fall off, and instead, raised his head from his book to glance at him.

“You alright?” He muttered, turning back to the page as Alejandro let out a sigh, leaning further into his shoulder. These small, physical touches had almost become the norm while they were in the air. Sitting too close to each other on the plane, touching each other's hair as they walked past one another, gentle hand-squeezes before every challenge.

“The game is simply… tiring.” He murmured, closing his eyes and resting his head against the cool metal of the plane.

Noah hummed in response.

“I hear you. Do you want to go to the cargo hold?” The cargo hold had also become a regular thing. Whenever one of them was tired, or simply on the verge of losing it, they would haul themselves up with the luggage, and sit in comfortable silence, or talk for hours and hours about nothing in particular.

But Alejandro shook his head.

“No, everybody is asleep… they are bearable when they’re asleep.”

Sure enough, the rest of their team was asleep, and Team Victory hadn’t yet returned from the loser benches, where they had inevitably tossed Leshawna out of the plane. Noah let out a tired laugh, and closed his book when Alejandro dropped his head onto his shoulder.

“Okay.” he murmured, and Alejandro let out a hum in response.

Everything was quiet. The gentle rattling of loose luggage in the overhead compartments and the far-away droning of the plane's engine provided a little bit of ambience as he gazed around the room. The lights were off, so everything was almost dark. The sun was dying in the west, and its fading light projected a subtle orange through the small windows.

Gently, Alejandro reached out to intertwine their fingers together, and Noah placed his book down on the bench next to him. He listened intently as Alejandro’s breathing evened out, and rested his head on the boy next to him with a sigh, closing his eyes.

Everything is quiet, and if this isn’t what falling in love feels like, Noah has no idea what it could possibly be.

Noah is jealous.

Noah is jealous, and he hates himself for it.

He knows that what Alejandro is doing is for the ‘good of the team’ or whatever, one of those ‘acts of god’ he likes to pretend his schemes are, but it doesn’t stop his blood from boiling every time he looks at Dj and Alejandro laughing together on the opposite economy bench. Everytime Dj’s voice is followed by Alejandro’s practically musical laugh, he glares down at the book in his hands and turns a page so hard it’s a miracle that he hasn’t yet torn one out.

“- And when you join Team Chris, we’ll make sure to reverse your animal curse, and ensure you stay in the game for as long as possible !”

“ Hell yeah, man! You’re a good dude, Alejandro .”

This is what makes Noah stand up, shooting to his feet and practically launching himself out the economy door and down the hallway to the confessional. The sound of his footsteps bounce off the walls, and white hot anger is filling every inch of his body, as he borderline crashes into two figures who were walking down the hallway, presumably to the communal mess hall.

“Hey, watch- Shit, Noah, are you alright?” Gwen raises an eyebrow, her hostile expression vanishing as he glares at her, his hands trembling. Next to her, Courtney lets out a hum of concern.

“Im-”

From behind them, cutting him off mid sentence, Heather pushed her way between the two other girls and scowled at him, showing off the golden tooth she got in the Amazon. 

Christ, the Amazon challenge . He shook his head, and scowled back at her with the same almost-violent expression.

“Watch where you’re going, nerd.” She scowls. “Touch my teammates again and you’re dead .”

He vaguely hears Gwen mutter something about being rude, but the only thing he can really hear is Alejandro’s laugh, and Dj’s voice, dancing around inside his head.

“You want Dj on your team, right?” He snaps, pointing a finger at her. She looks almost shocked… It’s probably his tone of voice. “ Right? ”

“Well-” She starts, and pauses, as if trying to think of a snarky response. “Yes, we do, but if you think we’re just going to let you-”

“Then take him .” Noah interrupts, and it manages to shut Heather’s mouth. A small part of him is proud of himself for it. “Get him on your team and I'll owe you a favor, a million bucks, anything you fucking want, I don’t car e, just convince him before he can join mine .”

None of them respond, but none of them move out of the way either. Eventually, after a few seconds of tense, suffocating silence, Courtney speaks.

“...You don’t want him on your team?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you-”

“ I’m not the one in charge .” He seethes, and clenches his teeth. “Use your lawyer skills, manipulation skills, be nice to him, whatever , just don’t- don’t let Alejandro win this.”

And before he knows it, tears are threatening to spill from his eyes. They’re not sad tears, no, not at all, but tears of pure, unadulterated frustration . Gwen, noticing this, pulls Heather and Courtney out of the way, and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he stalks past, and practically throws open the door to the confessional.

He promptly sits down on the toilet, and buries his face in his hands.

He sits like that for maybe a minute, simply waiting for the frustration to dissipate, before he stands up, and scowls at the camera.

“He wants to get rid of the Amazon's number advantage.” He places his fist in his hand and frowns. “Which is strategic, and good for our team, but oh my god-”

The camera beeps, as if agreeing with him.

“He’s beep practically flirting with him since Lindsay was thrown out of the plane, and It’s making me want to throw myself out of the plane. Like, seriously, we were just in Paris, the city of love , and he’s- he hasn’t-”

He takes a breath, and steadies his voice.

“...He hasn’t spoken to me since we left.”

It’s not spoken with any sadness, or any of the frustration previously filling his words, but with instead, defeat .

Because the truth is, he hadn’t . The moment they had stepped on the plane, Alejandro had spun past him to sit next to Dj, to sweet-talk him into trying to merge with their team before the next challenge. He had watched as he laughed at all of the taller man’s jokes, and shared his own thoughts about Egyptian curses and tombs to potentially help him figure out his curse.

Facts and thoughts that Noah had told him in the cargo hold after the Egypt challenge. Stuff that he had spoken about under the comfortable cover of darkness, where the only thing visible were his own hands, and the outline of Alejandro's figure sitting across from him.

It made his blood boil with rage, a jealousy, greener than Alejandro’s eyes.

The lights in the confessional were bright, and fluorescently painful against his eyes. He had nothing else to say, so he let out a sigh, and pushed the door open to the hallway once again. He would go and sit in the cargo hold, use one of the torches they found down there to finish his book, and-

Standing in front of the door, his hand raised to knock, with an honest-to-god, distressed expression on his face, was Alejandro .

“...Do you want to use the confessional?” He hums, sliding past him, and starting towards the cargo hold. “I’m done, so-”

But Alejandro grabs his wrist and yanks him back so that they’re facing each other once again. His grip on his arm is so strong it hurts, and he can see the little flecks of brown in his eyes and- ah .

“...You were looking for me.” He states, as if it was the clearest thing in the world, and Alejandro nods, so subtly that he almost misses it, and he lets out a long, shallow breath.

“I was. You looked-” He struggled, not once letting go of his wrist. “You looked distressed as you left economy class, and you had been gone for quite a while, so I went down to the cargo hold to find you, and you weren’t there, so I came to the confessional, and-”

He was rambling, the typical ‘coolness’ in his voice having disappeared the movement he started speaking, so Noah scowled, and tried to shake his hand from the others grasp. He didn’t succeed, but it did manage to shut Alejandro up.

“You were talking to Dj when I left, I didn’t realize you noticed me.”

“I was- you-” It was like Alejandro didn’t quite know what to say, and Noah was suddenly struck with the realization that jealousy and selfishness are not entirely different from each other.

A lack of consideration for other people, and too much consideration for other people.

The incessant want to have something be yours, and yours alone.

“You want him on our team, right? That’s why you were paying so much attention to him.” He spoke, trying to stop his voice from shaking as he did so. “You should- go back to that.”

“...Alas, Heather has whisked him away.” Alejandro murmured, eyes still locked onto his own. “And she mentioned something about an ‘upset teammate’ who was ‘wandering the halls.’”

Noah blinked.

“Ah.”

“There is-” He started, switching the topic away almost as instantly as it had begun. “-Something I was meaning to do while we were in Paris.”

This made Noah freeze. The hand around his wrist was suddenly too hot, and the eyes watching him felt like piercing needles in his temples.

He knew, he knew what Alejandro was going to do. Out of every contestant on the plane, he knew the best how the other boy worked, the tactics he used to gain that competitive advantage nobody else had.

But despite that- despite everything, he wanted so badly for what Alejandro was saying to mean something , to not just be another ploy to get him kicked off the plane. He looked up at him, eyes sweeping over the other boy’s expression. His eyes were glinting with something akin to hope, and his dark eyelashes fluttered under the fluorescent hallway lights. His tongue brushed lightly over his lips, and Noah had to stop himself from pushing himself forward, and pressing their lips together like his life depended on it.

But while Noah has more negative traits than he can count, self control is something he’s always been very good at. So he simply averted his gaze, and stared down at the ground, clenching his teeth together.

“...We’re not in Paris anymore, Alejandro.” He spoke, unable to hide the trembling in his voice.

And Alejandro’s face dropped, only a small, tiny amount, but enough for Noah to feel like an arrow had been shot through his heart by a negligent cupid. But the other boy let go of his wrist, and took a few steps backwards.

“...Oh. I see. I am truly sorry, Noah.” He mused, gathering his composure once again and taking a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. “I understand if you no longer want to-”

“No!” He almost yelled, putting his hand out to stop Alejandro from finishing his sentence. He had a feeling that he knew what the boy was going to say, so he shook his head vigorously. “I don’t- that’s not what I want at all, I just-”

Something in Alejandro’s face lit up at his words, and Noah felt something growing in his stomach. Guilt, maybe? Resentment? Distress?

“...The cargo hold.” He continued, and took a deep breath. “Now that Dj’s with Heather, I don’t want to- Owen’s being loud, and- why don’t you tell me about your plans for the next challenge?”

Alejandro paused, seemingly considering his response before he slowly nodded, and a familiar, camera-ready grin spread across his face.

“Why, that’s a wonderful idea, my favorite teammate!” He smiled, and Noah suddenly recognised the feeling growing in his stomach.

Dread .

“Let us strategise, without the prying ears of the other teams .”

And so Noah gulped, and spun around before Alejandro could gauge the expression on his face, and began to stride down the hallway to the door to the cargo hold.

Noah is, indubitably, a coward.

A coward, and for the first time in his life, a little bit of a fool .

When they were in Newfoundland, he hadn’t hesitated when Alejandro offered him his hand when getting onto the boat, and he had been almost pleased when the other boy had wriggled between him and Owen, therefore ensuring that they would be partners for the next challenge. Afterwards, they had sat together in first class and laughed over the Amazon’s defeat, before Alejandro had walked off to once again, to try and convince DJ to form an alliance.

Everything seemed… almost normal.

That was until they crash-landed in Jamaica, and Chris had revealed the lack of plans for a merge, and the refusal to let DJ join one of the two opposing teams.

Alejandro had simply sighed, but Noah had watched as he clutched the hem of his shirt so hard that his knuckles went white.

“ Dude, are you alright ?” He had asked, nudging him with his elbow as they began to get off the plane.

“ I am wonderful, my dear Noah. ” He had mused, and let out a small hum of amusement as he watched Owen and Izzy get carted off on stretchers. The sight of it made Noah’s stomach flip, and he had to resist the urge to hurriedly follow after the stretchers in a panic. But Alejandro simply raised his eyebrow with a smile. “ I cannot say the same about them, however .”

He doesn’t care about them at all. Noah thought, and the now-familiar feeling of dread came flooding back. He doesn’t give a shit.

When Chris had shoved him off the cliff and into the eel-infested lake, he took his time rising above the water. The salt water against his skin made him feel light, and airy, and for a moment he considered simply letting himself rise to the surface naturally, would be easier than swimming up. He took such a long time, apparently, that before he could get to the surface once again, a hand was wrapped around his wrist and he was yanked up and out of the water.

“ Noah .” Alejandro had breathed when he looked up, coughing up water and spluttering to get his words out. “What the hell were you doing!?”

On the beach, he could see Gwen being carted away on a stretcher, much like Owen and Izzy had been earlier. But right in front of him, Alejandro was staring down at him with a borderline-horrified expression on his face.

“I don’t-” He choked, and Alejandro began to lead him out of the water.

“Were you just going to let yourself drown?!” He yelled, and Noah furrowed his eyebrows. “God, Noah! I thought you were- christ .”

Noah didn’t say anything, but simply let himself be led onto the sand, and towards the area where the next challenge was taking place. Maybe the laziness really was an issue, or maybe- just maybe, the thought of rising to the surface and immediately meeting eyes with Alejandro, was exactly the thing he was trying to avoid.

…Whatever. 

The next thing he knew, he was flying down a bobsled track on a long-board, and crashing into the bottom of an empty pool. The bobsledding was awful, and he knows that he probably gave himself a concussion, but ironically, he thinks, the concussion might have been the thing to finally knock some sense into him.

Because if he were to look back on it, he would probably say that that was the moment everything clicked into place.

From his space next to the empty pool, he watched as Alejandro began to ascend the hill to the top of the track for the second time, and he watched as Alejandro turned around, only slightly, to send him a tiny, flirty wink.

The same kind of wink he used on Bridgette and Leshawna before they were kicked off the plane, and booted out of the competition for good.

He had watched, almost numb, as Dj went flying off the racetrack, a faulty plank of wood serving as a ramp and launching him up into the sky like a shooting rocket. Alejandro simply continued smiling, gently nudging him as they watched DJ soar over their heads like a bird.

He watched as Alejandro shook his head in disappointment, seeing past the look of almost-mourning for his ‘ friend ’ and instead seeing the pleased glint in his eye as he watched DJ jump from the plane after he lost the challenge. The ironic fall of Team Victory. 

He watched, as Alejandro’s demeanor slipped before he strolled nonchalantly into the confessional. The feigned-sadness gave way to a maniacal, smug , grin as he shut the door behind him.

He watched it all, and standing, dumbfounded, in front of the door to the cargo hold, a part of him realizes that he’s been utterly, and entirely, foolish.

Because Alejandro doesn’t care about him, he’s been playing him since the very start, since the moment he invited him down to the cargo hold after that first challenge. It almost makes him sick, just how stupid he’s been. The thought of just how easily he went along with the other boy’s plans sends a horrified shiver down his spine.

But the door has been boarded over, and a bright red sign reading ‘No entry, that means YOU, Noah and Alejandro!’ has been taped onto the front of it. He jiggles the handle, locked. He tries to pry the boards away from the wall, they’re nailed into the metal.

The cargo hold is closed, and he can’t get in.

The dread pools at the bottom of his stomach, and starts to thrash around like the red sea.

He stands there for several minutes, simply staring at the sign, before the door to the confessional squeaks open once again, and he hears the familiar clicking of heeled boots against the metal airplane floor.

It’s Alejandro.

Noah should stay where he is, wait for Alejandro to see him and exclaim about the boarded up door. He should turn to him, tell him what happened so that they can mourn the loss of their hiding place and return to first class together, where they can curl up on the couch and make fun of Tyler attempting to do push ups.

He should stay; every bone in his body is telling him to stay.

…But he’s a coward, and he always has been. So he darts behind the corner, where you can’t be seen from the wall, and he holds his breath as he stands there, waiting.

Alejandro’s footsteps pause, and then begin to stride down the hallway, and stop, presumably, as they reach the cargo hold doorway. There’s no way for Noah to see the expression on the other’s face, but after a few moments of silence, he hears the tiniest sigh of disappointment he’s heard in his life.

It makes his stomach flip.

But he doesn’t move, in fact, he hears the sound of somebody aggressively rattling the door handle, followed by a loud series of banging, as if he was trying to open the door with the sheer force of will. But it doesn’t budge, and Noah pales as he hears a noise of pure, vicreal frustration frustration leave Alejandro’s throat.

It sounds like he kicks the door, because another bang is followed by a curse, and Alejandro’s footsteps hurriedly retreat towards first class. Noah exhales.

Alejandro notices when he slips past the curtain, and he almost instantly stands up and makes his way over. Noah’s breath hitches, and he stops as Alejandro raises an eyebrow.

“Where did you go?” He questions, and Noah nonchalantly shrugged.

“Went to talk to Gwen.” He lied. “I wanted to make sure she was feeling alright after the whole eel thing.”

Alejandro frowns. “...I didn’t know you two talked.”

“...It’s a recent thing.”

And Noah knows he’s gotten away with it, because Alejando’s been pretending to be wrapped around his little finger for weeks, and he’s not about to give away his position. The other boy only hums, and he can see in his eyes that there’s something else he wants to say.

“Did you-” He started, and paused to look past him and towards the dividing curtain. “Did you see the door?”

Noah froze.

The cargo hold had become the staple of their time together on the show, of course he was going to mention it. With how upset he sounded when he was trying to open the door, he didn’t doubt that he was just as annoyed about it as he was, but there was something in Alejandro’s eyes that made Noah think twice about lying, something that struck a chord in his heart and made him open his mouth before he could think.

“Yeah.” He spoke, and his voice cracked, just a little bit, at the end of the word. “I didn’t- I didn’t think Chris would board it up.”

Alejandro nodded, sagely, and in the quietest voice it seemed like he could possibly muster, he murmured:

“ He has torn it from us for a reason, what it is, I am not yet sure .”

Noah only paused, before he sighed, and brushed his fingers across Alejandro’s forearm as he walked past him. Behind Alejandro’s soft voice was a maniacal plot, one that would undoubtedly get him thrown off the plane if he wasn’t careful. The thought made him sick.

“...Let’s talk about it later, I’m tired.” He muttered, and made his way over to one of the first class couches. Behind him, he heard Alejandro hesitate, and the other boy let out a quiet hum as he followed, settling down the other end of the couch next to Noah’s feet, and pulling a book from the small side table next to it. It was one of his own, one that he had happily lent him after the Amazon challenge.

“Get some rest, my dear Noah.” He murmured, and instead of skipping a beat like it usually might, Noah’s heart almost stops.

Noah is a lot of things; He is pessimistic, he is cynical, he is obsessive. 

He is petty, selfish, lazy, jealous. He is cowardly, and recent evidence has shown that he’s foolish, too.

He is so many things, all irrefutably negative, but above all else, Noah is spiteful .

He is spiteful, so when he’s given the opportunity to talk about Alejandro in London, without him being able to hear, he’s mean .

“ I don’t trust the guy, he’s like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. ”

He regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, but there is something so so satisfying about admitting what he knows, about admitting he knows that everything Alejando has said to him has been fake, that he doesn’t feel the need to take them back. he simply grits his teeth, and continues to strap Tyler to the torture rack.

Hey, Alejandro’s not going to hear him, he’s not going to hear the borderline-betrayal that Noah just admitted to, so what’s there to worry about?

As it turns out, there’s everything to worry about, because the captured contestants have been watching the entire thing, and when Noah steps onto the plane once again, the look in Alejandro’s eyes is so angry he feels the pit of dread amplify ten-fold.

That look is the thing that tells him he’s going home.

But Noah is spiteful, so when Alejandro corners him just outside the confessional, after their votes have been cast and knows that he’s about to take the drop of shame, he stares up at him with all the hatred he could possibly muster.

“Alejandro.” He sneers, and Alejandro scowls.

“How did you know?” He hisses, and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. His hands are shaking, and it gives Noah a sick sense of satisfaction. “This is the end of the game, Noah, transparency is critical in times like these.”

He snorts, and Alejandro’s grip only tightens.

“What, how did I know that you were playing everybody this entire time with your ‘ Mr. Nice Guy ’ act? How did I know that you were playing me ? You’re not as subtle as you think, you eel .”

“Playing you ?!” He gapes, and his glare is partly replaced with a look of shock. “What are you talking about?!”

“You think I didn’t notice!?” Noah clutched at Alejandro’s wrists in a half-hearted attempt to push him away, but he didn’t succeed, so instead he continued to scowl at him. “First Bridgette, then you manipulated Harold to vote himself off, then you got rid of Leshawna! You’ve been doing the same thing to me since the minute we first spoke! You’ve been playing me like a reality show!”

“This is a reality show!” Alejandro yelled, but then an expression flooded across his face, one of shock, realization, and borderline horror . “You thought this, me and you, was just a part of the game?!”

“Was it not!?”

“No!” Alejandro gaped, and yanked him forward with the grip he had on his collar. “Nothing I've said to you has ever been part of the game! I’ve been- Jesus , how could you think that, after everything!”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you kissed Bridgette to distract her played a role, or maybe you throwing a challenge to compliment Leshawna influenced my train of thought! It’s all-!”

But he froze, loosening his grip on Alejandro’s wrists as he stared at him. The other boy is looking at him with an expression of shock and horror, one that looks so entirely genuine under the fluorescent hallway lights.

“...You're kidding.” He mutters, and he’s sure he sees something akin to shame flash across Alejandro’s face. “You’re lying to me.”

Alejandro shook his head, the bitterness remaining on his features even amidst the rest of emotions that seemed to be flooding his features at lightning speed.

“I’m not. I’m-” And Alejandro hesitates, for just long enough for Noah to realize what he’s done. “I’m not kidding, and I have not lied to you… But you have no reason to believe so, do you? The truth does not mean much when it’s coming from a slippery eel. ”

And he lets go of Noah’s collar, and spins around so fast that he cannot catch the expression on his face. It makes him sick to his stomach when he begins to stalk away, back to Chris and the rest of their team.

“...Come on, Noah, it’s time for you to meet your end.” Is all he says, and almost against his will, he begins to follow him. 

To get back to the rest of his team, he has to walk past the door to the cargo hold. It’s still boarded shut, and the bright red sign still hangs flimsily from a piece of masking tape. It hurts his eyes as he walks, and for a moment, he stops.

He rips the sign off the door, and lets it flutter slowly to the floor.

Noah is spiteful, so when the parachute is fastened to his back, and he is faced with the fall of his life, he spins around and points a finger at Alejandro, scowling.

“Beware of eels .” Is all he says, and to his hatred, Alejandro grins , a large, malicious, slippery grin.

There is nothing on his face that betrays even a scent of regret, but in his eyes, Noah is sure he can see a glint of something else, something that he can’t quite decipher amidst the cacophony of the surrounding winds, and the crashing beating of his heart.

For a moment, a small, tiny moment, he thinks about apologizing…

…But it’s only for a moment, because Noah jumps out of the plane before he can give himself the chance.