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Noah flickers, his whole body becoming a little more see-through, and his cards fall on the floor, exposing all of it. He doesn’t even have any good cards – all numbers, in different colors, and he has one too many. Ronan knows that, because he looks, a smirk trespassing his face while he looks down at his own cards. Adam pretends he doesn’t notice, but he catches a glimpse from the corner of his eyes. Blue is too focused on herself, frowning at her handful of cards, after Adam and Ronan threw two draw fours at her in a row, so she doesn’t even notice it. Gansey closes his eyes – because that’s Gansey.
“Should we start over?” He asks - while Noah tries to gather up enough physical presence to get his cards back - not because it is Noah, but because it is fair. That’s Gansey.
“No fucking way.” Ronan replies, looking down at his another draw four card, while Blue raises her eyes from her deck, slightly interested at the possible outcome. Before anyone could argue, Noah has his cards back on his hands, and adjusts them by color, taking care and keeping his eyes down, while Adam plays his turn.
“You didn’t look.” Noah says later, in a low voice, almost like a whisper, as it usually is. It is just the two of them, Gansey lying on the bed and Noah sitting on it. They had all left, Ronan under the excuse of giving Adam a ride, but probably stopping in the middle of the way.
“What?" He asks, quietly, taking his eyes off his journal. The moon is shining bright outside, lighting his back, while his lamp throws a yellow light on his left side. His glasses are on his nose and he uses his finger to fix it, as if he needs to look at Noah better. He’s not wearing the Anglioby tie, but he put the sweater back on a few hours ago, during the UNO game, because he got cold and it was the one closer in reach.
“I asked if you know why Ronan is taking so long.” They both know that Noah didn’t say that – the sentence was too short to fit all this into it, but they both pretend they don’t notice.
Gansey places his thumb on his lower lip, thinking. He’s so different from Ronan on that point. Maybe from all of them. He thinks before he speak – he’s always thinking.
“I don’t know. Doing something illegal, most likely.” He says, attempting to make it sound as a joke, but then he makes a small frown. “Do you think we should go after him?”
Noah gives his friend a small smirk, more of a crooked smile, only one corner of his lip completely lifting. Almost mischievous. The one he used to wear all the time before. He couldn’t see it, could he? How Ronan got nervous around Adam. How he was always looking at Adam, even though he tried to make it as if he wasn’t when someone noticed.
“What is it?” He sits up on his bed, closing his journal but not completely. He keeps his other thumb on the page he was in, holding it there so he can get right back into it.
“You don’t know?”
“What?!” Noah chuckles, because he can’t help it, shaking his head at him. Of course he didn’t know. He would never connect the dots. He probably didn’t even know that Noah and Blue made out in his bed, and it’s been months. “Tell me.” He asks, almost pleading, and Noah can see how curious he is – of course, that’s just part of who he is. He’s not nosy. He just wants to know it all, about everything.
“Ronan and Adam are probably kissing right now.” Gansey stares at him blanky for a couple seconds, before shaking his head himself.
“No!” Is his first reaction, a small chuckle. “I would know-“ And then he stops, realization crossing his face. “What? No. They would tell me. Wouldn’t they tell me?”
“Yes, the thing Ronan and Adam most like to do is talk about their feelings. You’re right.” He says, teasing, pulling on Gansey’s foot, who moves it away out of reflex.
“How couldn’t I see it?”
“I don’t know, man.” He says, pretending honesty, fiddling with his fingers so he won’t look at his face and laugh. “You notice everything.”
This time, Gansey’s foot kicks his thigh, but the boy is laughing.
“God.” He says, in a sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. Of course, Noah thinks. Of course that the thought of his two best friends being together makes him smile. He’s not jealous. He’s happy for them, because he knows they deserve it. That’s Gansey.
And then, Gansey’s eyes move from the wall behind Noah to him. He starts to look at him, with so much intensity that Noah goes back with fiddling with his fingers, looking at his nails, that he had chewed away the week before he had died. The thought brings a bitter taste to his mouth, and suddenly he’s afraid he’s going to relive it, right there, in front of Gansey, in front of the boy who’s so driven in his search that it reminds him and Whelk back in the day, in front of the boy who’s only alive because he’s dead. He feels his chest tighten, as if his breathing was becoming raggedy, but that couldn’t be. Noah licks his lips, imitates the reflex of swallowing, trying to get rid of the taste – that is also not real, just something he mimics from the time he was alive, where he could run through the woods laughing with Whelk, and they ate greasy burgers on his car, and every week he had a new trick on the skate to show him. Now he can’t even see one of them without flinching of the thought of the board hitting his face, again and again, life slipping from him and waking up and still being there. And his body was there with him. No one talked to him. No one told him why he was still there. No one even looked at him – they couldn’t, no one could. He was left alone. Time was irrelevant. He didn’t want revenge. It wasn’t the vengeful spirit story that you always see in horror movies. He just wanted to leave.
“Have you ever…” Gansey starts, and then he coughs, and Noah looks up, because he call feel the anxiety on his voice. The boy comes into focus as Noah slowly comes back from the dark place on his mind. “Have you ever kissed a boy?” He finishes, proceeding to look away, his glasses slipping on his nose again but he doesn’t bother to fix it.
“Have you?” He answers, and he remembers Whelk’s lips against his. It tastes like blood now. Did it back then?
Gansey looks at him again, and he is half expecting the cliché I asked first answer, but he simply shakes his head no. His lips are pressed together, as if he wants to hide them now they are the focus of the conversation. Noah licks his lips again, but this time, not trying to drive away anything. They are still too far away, Gansey’s foot pressed against the side of his thigh how it was left after the kick, his thumb holding the journal’s page, the lamp making his eyes look even more hazel. Noah is not the kind of person who makes moves – he used to be. He used to be braver, bolder, but there are days where he doesn’t even feel like a person at all, much less a brave one. But still, he moves. He climbs on top of Gansey’s bed, slowly, getting closer to Gansey until he’s by his side, and his eyes didn’t move from the fair haired boy for even one second.
Noah imitates the reflex of breathing deeply. Gansey does the same, except he really is breathing deeply. And then they lean close, together, and for one second Noah is worried their noses are going to bump and everything is going to get so awkward he will literally disappear, but Gansey shifts his head in the right way on the right time and their lips touch, gently at first. Noah feels a rush of live through him, and he presses them harder, but he doesn’t put his tongue out – that’s Gansey, who licks Noah’s lips before he opens them, and then he can feel his tongue against him, and Noah is not going to lie and say it tastes like honey, because it doesn’t. It tastes like alive, human. He can feel his warmth breath inside his mouth. His whole body shudders at that, having air inside him again, and Gansey finally moves his hands from the journal, letting it fall on the middle of him, while involving Noah’s waist with his arm and pulling him closer. He places his hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, and mimics the movement he just made. They kiss, and Noah takes it all in, his tongue exploring every inch he can of Gansey’s mouth, hitting the same spot over and over because he can’t think straight enough to change it. He feels his tongue pressing against his, and even when Gansey has to pull away for air, the golden boy keeps on sucking on his lower lip, while Noah chuckles. His hand drops from his neck and gets the journal from the middle of them, tossing it on the floor beside him. Gansey makes a half-hearted attempt of an offended expression before they are back at it, and Noah can feel his laugh against his mouth, after he playful bites into his lip. Noah can’t get enough, and he could blame it on not needing to breathe, but apparently, Gansey can’t either. Their hands don’t move that much – Gansey caress his back while Noah play with his hair, and then he touches his arms, feeling the muscles he has from when he was in rowing, while he cups his face. They just kiss, pulling each other closer, body against body, and Noah feels real, he feels alive, as if Gansey is pouring life into him, sharing what was only returned to him because of Noah’s sacrifice.
They hear Ronan’s car pull up, the roar of his motors waking them from their daydream, making them think rationally for the first time in hours. Gansey’s pupils are dilated, his eyes looking hungry, starving even, his lips red and full. He never looked more beautiful.
“It didn’t seem fair you were the only one who didn’t do it.” Noah whispers, and Gansey gives him a nudge, chuckling. He gives him his crooked smile again, and Gansey moves closer to him again, and he looks still dazed, with a dirty smile on his lips. And even though he can feel himself fading, he still feels alive.