Work Text:
Misha's on thin ice as soon as he enters the room because Ocean's fully aware that he skipped class earlier today, openly and unapologetically.
"Misha," says Ocean, irritably, as he leans on the doorframe. "You're thirty seconds late. Can you help me put these chairs away?" She gestures to some chairs left out by the previous students to use the room, only some of them put away. Misha takes a step further into the room, then stops, frowning. He sort of oddly freezes without freezing - stops moving voluntarily, tries to stay very very still, and sways slightly anyway without quite realising it.
"No," he says, calmly. "I'm going to pass out." He says it like it's an item on his to-do list, absolutely no fear in his voice. Ocean just blinks.
"You're going to pass out?"
"Yeah." He takes another step forward and then, expertly countering Ocean's clear doubt in his words, manages to just catch himself by leaning on the nearest table just before he collapses.
"Jesus Christ," blurts out Noel, rushing forward to steady him. "How about we try sitting down? Instead of just bragging about our fragile hold on consciousness?" He grabs Misha's arms, carefully holding him upright so he can lower himself safely to the ground. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." The room continues to spin around him and his head, gently, thuds against the leg of the table behind him. "I'm okay. Just... ah... pushed myself little too hard in PE just now."
There's an uneasy silence while Misha grins as though he hasn't just nearly fainted. Then Ocean sighs pointedly and finishes putting the chairs away herself.
Noel crouches next to him, concern written in his face. "Are you sure you're okay? Here, let me..." His hand moves to Misha's neck, two fingers just under his jaw, and he frowns. "Huh. Can't find a pulse."
"Shit, yo, I must be dead."
"You're not dead," snaps Ocean. "You're fully conscious. Dead people aren't conscious."
"Okay, fine, I'm not dead. Just... blood pressure went fucky." Noel narrows his eyes, and Misha's grin turns more sheepish. "Come on. I'm fine."
"Mish," asks Noel seriously. "Do you know why you nearly fainted?"
"Yeah, but... Aw, come on! It's so embarrassing. I will lose all gangsta cred if I tell you!"
"This is cute, but your health is more important than 'gangsta cred'."
Misha huffs dramatically, crossing his arms. "I skipped class to donate blood and now I'm dizzy."
"...That's what you're embarrassed about?!"
"I had to, yo! Every donation is valuable and can save lives. But giving blood isn't gangsta, it's something goody-two-shoes bitches do to show how they're so much better than everyone else. Like Ocean."
"Hey," protests Ocean.
"My gangsta friends would totally judge me. Everyone would think I'm some lame do-gooder! So they told me I should probably sit out of PE afterward... But I would have had to explain why I wanted to sit out. So I just didn't. And now I feel like shit."
"You're an idiot," deadpans Noel. "Like, I've never met anyone as insecure in their masculinity as you. It's actually kind of impressive, I didn't know it was possible to be insecure about that. I'm fascinated by your thought process. Are you alright?" He sighs without giving Misha a chance to answer. "Have you eaten? Drank water?"
"I ate at lunch. Haven't... haven't drank a lot of water."
"So you're combining dehydration and blood loss? No wonder you feel weak, but at least you're not damaging any of your gangsta cred by letting other people know you're ... a good person who's trying to help people." He rolls his eyes. "I'm getting you water. Stay down." He stands up, finds his schoolbag and fishes a water bottle out of it. "Here." He holds it out to Misha. Misha sips it gratefully.
"Are you two being gay?" asks Ocean nervously, wearily.
"Are you being judgemental?" snaps back Noel.
"Well, no, there's nothing wrong with being gay, just... we're in choir."
"Misha should be exempt today, he's sick and might faint." This is a wholly reasonable request until Noel yields against Ocean's narrow eyes and finally explicitly adds, "And I should be exempt too. To emotionally support him."
"Emotionally support him?!" chokes Ocean. "Does he really need emotional support? For feeling sick? For donating blood? Does he need to take the entire tenor section down with him because he needs emotional support?"
"Yeah," says Misha. "I think I do."
Ocean rolls her eyes and sighs emphatically. "Well, if you're not going to participate, then why don't you step out of the room and let the rest of us practice?" Noel opens his mouth to protest but Ocean cuts him off, "Misha, I will help you walk out if you still think you're in danger of falling."
"I don't need your help," scoffs Misha.
Ocean tries to help anyway - hovers incessantly as Misha manages to get to his feet, slightly shaky but more stable than before, one hand on Noel's arm in case the dizziness crashes over him again. Noel takes him outside and Ocean helps by standing a few feet away, following, staring at them judgementally the whole time.
Her weight shifts from foot to foot as her choir waits for her to return.
"They won't let me donate blood," she admits, self-consciously. "I don't weigh enough, apparently. Which is ridiculous, because I am a healthy weight for my height, and-"
"You're too short," deadpans Noel, cutting her off. "That's why you're not allowed. You're too short and too much of a skinny bitch and they don't want your disgusting five-foot-two blood. Oh well."
Ocean glares at him, then turns back to Misha. "What I'm trying to say," she says, reluctantly. "Is that ... Not all of the 'goody two-shoes B-words' can do what you did to day, so. You know. It's good that we've got some gangstas doing it too. I mean, weird to develop a complex about it, and you really should have done it on a weekend instead of skipping class, but... You did something good today."
"Thanks," says Misha, grinning. "Next time I'm skipping even more classes to do it."
"And this is why I don't talk to you outside of choir much." She sighs. "Good job, Misha. See you next choir session. I hate you." And with that, she turns to go back to choir.