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Mischa hated Uranium. Both the city and the substance. He didn’t have anybody here, just Noel and a whole lot of bad memories. He didn’t mourn the loss of his basement, he doubted anyone could miss the smell of rot and mold that followed every spring, or the frigid cold of winters, or having a literal heat stroke in summer. Though Canada rarely ever got hot enough for such a thing, so that wasn’t exactly a common concern.
Noel also hated Uranium, but not exactly for the same reasons. His mother was…fine? Well, better then Mischa’s adoptive….wardens. Noel never feared having a heatstroke or literally dying…well, maybe of starvation, but even then he could still get some food from his job if the worst came to worst. Though Noel would deny ever having eaten at such a place.
Mischa knew Noel hated Uranium, the man didn’t exactly hide it. He’d gush about something called a “Met Gala” and bitch about living in a town where people only dress nicely for church or for funerals. Not even weddings, Noel hadn’t seen a single bride dressed in an actually half decent wedding dress in person a single time in his entire 24 year life. He was gonna change that, personally.
Well, he thought he was, until he found a stash of cash hidden in a dingy duffel bag buried beneath some blankets in Mischa’s closet. There was more money in that bag than Noel had ever seen in his life. Noel could sell his entire wardrobe and make maybe half this amount. Noel was saving up to go to France, but he’d spent that money on this apartment. Because he wanted what was best for the both of them.
He wanted to march up to Mischa and demand an explanation, but he was smarter than that. Not that Mischa would dodge the question….at least Noel wanted to believe he wouldn’t dodge the question, but if he came onto Mischa with that much aggression was a fast way to freak the poor Ukrainian out. And at least one person in this house needed to not be freaking out.
“Hey misch~” Noel spoke in a sing-songy tone that Mischa had grown to associate with certain doom.
“What do you want, poet?”
“Oh nothing, I was just doing some cleaning and you wouldn’t believe what I found!”
“I’m not going to look at our yearbook with you.”
Noel let out a perturbed exhale, but kept his attitude relatively in check. “No it was way cooler than some crusty old yearbook!” The smile on his face may as well have been the trumpeter sounding the end times. “I found a duffel bag full of money. Wouldn’t you think you’d tell your boyfriend about that?”.
“So I was saving money, so what?”
“Mischa, there's at least 400 dollars in there. We’ve been barely scraping by this whole time and you were just sitting on god knows how much money.” Noel sat down opposite his boyfriend, cradling his face in his hands.
“That money is for us, poet.””
“I’ve been so careful with money, all the while you’re hiding it from me! You shouldn’t be hiding anything from me! I thought you loved me!” Noel could feel himself slipping into rambles but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. “The money for us is the money I spent getting us this apartment, buying our furniture, buying food to cook for you! Money hidden away in a duffel bag isn’t for us.
“I just want a better life for us, poet.”
“And what do you think I want?? To ruin our lives by being the boring sensible one? The one who wants to pay the rent?”
“It was to go to The Ukraine.”
Only then did Noel pause. The Ukraine?? Sure, Mischa had family there, but they were barely surviving in Canada. How on earth did he expect two Canadian queer people to even survive the move? Get a job?? Yeah cuz it wasn’t enough of a struggle for Mischa to explain the “F” on his ID before. Just go to The Ukraine, who cares about their future.
“We are not moving to Ukraine.” Noel had never sounded calmer or more certain in his life. He stated it as simply a fact, as if this was as guaranteed as the sun rising.
“I have family the-“
“You have family HERE!! I have family here!” Noel didn’t want to shut down Mischa’s dream of reuniting with his long since estranged Aunts and cousins but this was simply something Noel couldn’t abide.
“You get to stay with your mom for the rest of your life while I’m not even able to visit my матері grave?”
“No that’s not what I- I mean we can’t- we just can’t afford it!”
“My Aunt can provide for us-“
“I don’t want to live in your Aunt’s basement Mischa, I want to live in a nice home with my loving husband.”
“Husband?”
“Well- I- yeah if we…if we end up together long enough that’s the natural result” Noel’s cheeks were burning brighter than the sun in the middle of July
“Is that what this is about?”
“No! Well- not really! I just-“ Noel let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing his fingers into his temple like he was trying to soothe a headache
“So you don’t want to marry me?”
“W-Wait a minute I didn’t say that!”
“So you do want to marry me?”
“I didn’t say that either!!”
“Well then what do you want, poet?”
Noel buried his face behind his hands as he felt Mischa’s scrutinizing eyes boring holes into him.
“Y’know that feeling when you wonder if something beautiful is gonna happen? Like you’re about to win the lottery?”
“We don’t buy lottery tickets, you said they were a waste.”
Noel politely declined to mention that he was right about them being a waste.
“That feeling when I wake up and wonder if today is gonna be the day? Like maybe you’ll ask me to a nice dinner or to a stroll in a moonlit park or, hell, just wake me up with breakfast in bed while down on one knee? That’s what keeps me going! You think I could survive a 50 hour work week without you?”
Mischa declined to answer, he just silently realized how he was going to spend all that money he saved up.