Work Text:
Noah rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. His right leg bounced on its own. He tightened his grip on the microphone and braced himself for the same questions he could never really answer. Sweat slid down his forehead, and he hated the choice of that suit now. It felt like everything was closing in, the air thick and heavy.
He reached for the glass and took another sip of water. He smiled at the right moments, nodded along, answered when spoken to, but felt a wave of relief when Caleb noticed his nerves again and took the lead. Gaten and Finn stood on the other side, paired up like always. Because Finn did not like being his partner. At least not like that. Not in front of the cameras.
When the lights went out in the trailer and Noah dropped the stoic mask, Finn came looking for him. And Noah, like the idiot he was, let it happen. He had wanted that boy for so long that sometimes he felt like Will Byers himself. That ache bleeding into everything, blurring the damn lines between the script and real life.
After being directed one too many times to look at each other’s mouths, each other’s eyes, things finally exploded on a hot summer day during the fourth season. They were standing too close, laughing about nothing. Finn leaned in, and Noah followed, caught on the perfect curve of his cupid’s bow, the freckles dusted across his narrow nose. Finn wet his lips, and Noah closed the distance.
Years of friendship went up in smoke. But when Finn’s long fingers curled into the back of his neck and stole every breath from his lungs, Noah stopped caring.
Things had been messy ever since. And after he made the biggest mistake of his life, everything only got worse.
Noah checked his phone and flinched when there were no notifications beyond Chloe and his parents. He sighed, rolled his neck, and waited for another interview to finally be over. It was strange how he was supposed to be happy. How this was meant to be one of the best moments of his life. He forced a smile, forced enthusiasm about his character’s direction, terrified of letting anything slip. A look. A word. Anything that could be twisted.
He did not read articles about himself anymore. But he always knew when he had said something wrong by the looks on his coworkers’ faces.
Caleb squeezed his shoulder, and Noah startled, snapping back into the room as he realized everyone was watching him.
"Hey, man. What planet were you on?"
Noah laughed nervously and forced himself to stand, following the others. He carefully avoided a certain someone’s gaze and stayed close to Caleb, using him as a shield. He positioned himself beside him for photos, smiled, signed autographs with shaking hands, half-expecting someone to throw something or shout an insult at any second.
He waved as he got into the car and sank against the window. Everyone looked wiped out, and Noah felt like crying when he remembered he still had schoolwork waiting if he wanted to graduate. Caleb, always thoughtful, offered him water. Noah drank it fast, wishing he could take something stronger. Something that would numb him enough not to feel Finn’s eyes on him.
Not notice how impatient Finn had been during the interview. All those little habits that suddenly felt sharp.
Noah knew he was irritating. Okay, even Millie sometimes snapped at him, like Chloe did, asking him, please, to calm down. He knew he was too picky with food, but he could not help it. The texture of things felt unbearable in his mouth. He was scared of eating and throwing up at the table.
He knew he had to be better. He snapped his fingers until they hurt, trying to remember breathing exercises, trying to remember to read people’s reactions more carefully, to stop being so… expansive. He had learned to hold his tongue better, but his body still gave off that jittery energy.
He had thought medication would fix it. Dull it down. But a few hours under scrutiny, under lights and cameras, were enough to turn him into a shaky, stuttering mess.
Caleb bumped his shoulder and offered him a snack. Noah took it even though he absolutely did not want it. The grimace came instantly. Damn grimace. He heard Gaten laugh, caught Finn’s sideways smile, and shrank in on himself.
He rubbed his knuckles together and listened to Caleb and Gaten talk. He avoided looking straight ahead, focused on the horizon, cracked the window open, and let the cold air hit his face. It helped him breathe a little easier.
Everyone decided to go to the hotel restaurant, but Noah declined. Said he had homework to do. He never touched it. After showering, he collapsed onto the bed and felt like his body weighed a ton.
He fell asleep so fast that when someone knocked, he rolled right out of bed. He groaned, face pressed into the carpet, feeling stupid. The knocking didn’t stop, and he groaned again before telling whoever it was to go away.
The doorknob turned.
Noah saw polished shoes and didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The scent gave him away.
"Wow. You’re not even going to help?"
Yeah. Right.
He wanted to say it. Snap. Scream. He pushed himself up, but hands caught his arm and steadied him. The warmth of familiar fingers sent an unwanted shiver down his spine.
"Are you okay?"
There it was. That voice. So close to the one Finn used on screen. The same one that had made Noah think it meant something. That it was just for him. Stupid, right?
Noah laughed despite himself. Finn’s hand brushed his forehead, pushed his bangs back, and Noah hated himself for letting it happen. For leaning in. For being so painfully needy he felt starved for that touch.
"What do you want, Finn?" he asked, exhausted.
He rubbed his face and tried not to think about the stupid urge to crawl back into bed and pout, asking for comfort. He thought of Millie. Of the promise he had made to her and to his sister. To be better. Stronger. Being strong meant not giving in to this.
Finn frowned and stepped back a little.
"I just wanted to check on you. You seemed distant. Caleb said you’ve been more anxious than usual."
"I’m fine. Just tired. And you know how I feel about interviews."
Finn knew. He used to tease him about his loose mouth. Finn used to be just as animated. Somewhere between the second and third season, he shut down. Now Noah thought he understood why.
Still, Noah tried to act excited. Tried to convince himself he liked the direction of the most important character of his career. Probably the last. He couldn’t even play himself right. Pathetic.
He made a mental note. Be more energetic. Use his hands more. Smile more. Act like the old Noah, even if that version didn’t exist anymore.
"Noah, come on."
Finn sat down beside him without asking, and Noah wanted to scream at the closeness, knowing every step of this weird, familiar dance. He knew how Finn avoided the elephant in the room and still took what he wanted.
Finn bumped his shoulder, and Noah hated that he was wearing nothing but sweatpants.
"You’re still mad?" Finn asked, shoulders lifting, hands in his pockets.
"Why would I be?"
"Noah."
"Finn."
Noah stood, irritated, putting distance between them as he dug through his suitcase for a shirt. He felt exposed under the weight of Finn’s stare.
"I know this has been hard."
Noah laughed without humor. His mouth twitched as he shook his head, gripping the shirt. He tried to put it on and got tangled, his arm slipping into the wrong hole.
Finn let out a soft laugh. Something that used to make Noah smile, but now just annoyed him. He hated how awkward he felt around everyone now. Like he’d forgotten how to be a normal person. Hated how often he forced himself to laugh when people made jokes at his expense.
Finn reached out to help him, murmuring reassuring things.
"Just let me help. You’re hopeless."
Noah’s head popped out of the shirt, and he found himself staring at Finn’s smile. Sweet. Real.
His eyes burned. He tried to stop it, but he ended up crying anyway. He hated how Finn’s smile faded.
He hated the way Finn’s hands cupped his face. The way he said his name like a prayer. The way he called him baby. He hated how Finn wrapped his arms around him. Hated how his body gave in, how he broke when all the pressure of the past few days finally crashed down on him.He hated that Finn could be his anchor. And hated even more how Finn crushed him.
That confusing, overwhelming feeling spread through him, taking up space it didn’t deserve. He hated how comforting the embrace felt, and how Finn’s distance, once the lights were on, cut him open.
"It’s going to be okay, baby. This will all be over soon, okay? And then we can finally—"
Promises. More promises. Plans that felt far away and impossible. Because if Finn wouldn’t stand by Jack, why would he ever stand by him?
Noah lifted his chin, ready to say all of it. Ready to choose himself.
But Finn’s fingers traced his face so gently that Noah swallowed the words. He grabbed Finn by the neck and kissed him the way he wanted to. The way he’d wanted to all day.
When Finn’s body pressed him down, Noah tried not to think about how the lights were off.
Tried not to think about when he might finally be loved in the daylight.