Work Text:
Noel Gruber was the only gay guy in Uranium City, Saskatchewan. He wasn’t very interesting to many people, only to his choir friends. His life wasn’t very interesting either, he worked at Taco Bell. Although, in his attempt to dial it back and blend in, he earned the title “most romantic boy in town”.
Being openly gay, he was Uranium City’s punching bag. Everywhere he’d go, he’d hear people throwing slurs at him. Even at school.
The only ones to notice were the Saint Cassian Chamber Choir, his friends. If they were present in such situation, they’d defend him– to a certain point.
However.
Mischa Bachinski, the angriest boy in town, would never back out. At times, it got as far as Mischa fighting the dudes.
On November 14th, 2024, he’d done just that.
They had just gone back to Mischa’s place after walking back from rehearsal, they had bumped into the popular guys at their school. Said guys threw slurs and insults at Noel, and Mischa– being the angriest boy in town– grew angry at them and defended him. Since he had promised Noel not to fight, he tried to shoo them away, but they wouldn’t budge.
So he fought.
Fought them all.
------------------------------
Back at Mischa’s, Noel was taking care of his wounds. He was using a nearby medkit to tend to his wounds. Bloody scars were scattered over his face, knuckles, neck and palms.
“I told you not to fight them Misch,” Noel said, grabbing a cotton swab and putting some rubbing alcohol on it.
“Поет, they were being rude, being assholes,” Mischa argued.
Noel takes his hand, dabbing the cotton swab gently on his scarred knuckles. Mischa hisses at the pain, his body slightly tensing up.
“This is why you don’t get into fights, Misch,” Noel frowned. “It’s gonna burn. You need to be more careful.”
“I am not getting into fight, Поет,” Mischa hissed. “I am protecting you.”
Noel smiled. He really liked Mischa, was an absolute hopeless romantic for him. If a person could be the definition of delusional, he was the perfect example.
Though, he really appreciated his protection. “I appreciate it Misch, just please be careful. I don’t like seeing you get hurt.”
Mischa sighed. “Fine, only because you told me.”
Noel smiled wider, cleaning up the rest of his wounds. He grabs some bandages, taking the Ukrainian’s hand in his again, a warmth spreading through his chest at the feeling of his hand in his. He wraps his knuckles up with the bandage, his touch gentle and soothing.
Mischa smiled at his caring touch, admiring how much his best friend cares for him. He hated how society treated Noel with such cruelty, just for showing who he is. Ever since Noel came to him sobbing about how badly he was treated no matter where he went, his heart shattered for him, and his already internalized anger at the town only grew. That is something he’d known since sophomore year.
Though, there was one thing he hadn’t known.
He’d been catching feelings for Noel. He didn’t even realize he was staring at Noel so lovingly.
“Misch?”
He snapped out of it. “Yes, Поет?”
“You okay?” Noel asked, a bit concerned for his best friend.
Mischa nodded, smiling. Noel looked at him, his gaze filled with suspicion. Mischa shook his head, reassuring him he’s fine silently.
They eventually moved to the couch, where Mischa put an arm around Noel’s shoulder.
“Misch?”
“Yes, Поет?”
“Why do you protect me so much?”
That question made Mischa think. Why was he defending Noel so much? Why was he so willing to fight for him? Sure, he’d fight for his friends in some occasions, but only if the person hurting them got physical first. With Noel, even if they didn’t get physical, he’d throw a punch or two to the face.
“... I care about you Поет.”
“Yeah, but why?”
That’s when Mischa realized. He was in love with him.
“Because I– don’t like it when people hurt you.”
Noel had liked this man for years. He suspected that he shared the same feelings about him, but was scared he was being delusional. They sat in awkward silence until-
“Поет.”
Noel looked at Mischa, who gently pulled him closer.
“I like you.”
Noel’s eyes immediately widened, a slight hint of pink on his cheeks. “What-?”
“I like you.”
Noel sat in shock for a few minutes before turning back to Mischa.
“Actually?”
“Yes, Поет. I am in love with you.”
Noel smiled at his words. He loved how his Ukrainian accent stained his speech, he had always found it endearing.
“I like you too. I’m in love with you too.”
He felt so nice in this moment. He’s still a hopeless romantic– well, maybe without the hopeless part.