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Noah doesn’t even remember the twelve hours.
Well, at least not all of them. There’s flashes of faces, shapes, feelings that pass through his closed eyes if he concentrates hard enough. He can remember Millie’s arms around him, anchoring him to earth through shots and retakes. Maya’s side eyes to the Duffer brothers and her sympathetic smiles to Noah. Caleb’s jokes to keep the mood light, Gaten’s concerned stares, Winona’s kind words of encouragement. His and Finn’s shared looks from across the room, not allowed to show their love with an audience, no words spoken to convey the worry and care they hold between each other. It’ll be over soon. Just keep holding on. I’ll fuck you doggystyle in your trailer afterwards. But overall, it’s all a blur. There’s twelve hours of recordings he doesn’t even remember.
Literally everyone was there. Fucking Murray, Vickie, Kali, Mr. Clarke, Erica, Obama. People he’s never seen before. Where did they come from?
‘Traumatic’ is not enough of a word to define it. Filming a scene of his beloved character coming out in the worst way possible over and over again only gets worse when you consider the fact that Noah’s only been out of the closet for a little over a year. The panic attacks they were so proud of filming were not fake, the tears were genuine, and the hug he received afterwards was exactly the same one he received when he actually came out. There was no acting.
Everything was real, and raw, and cruel, and grotesque, and humiliating. So it’s no surprise he immediately leaves the room when the recordings are over, not saying goodbye to anybody, and collapses on the couch the moment he steps on his trailer.
He thinks he sleeps for a while. He’s still unsure. The tiredness is getting to him, and he was just told there’d be twelve more hours of re-shooting tomorrow, and his mind won’t stop spinning. Oh, he’s so tired. Everything is too big and too small at the same time, and his body doesn’t feel his, and now he’s definitely passed out.
He wakes up what could be minutes or hours later. He still feels so, so tired. He’s even starting to imagine sounds, a knock at the door.
Or maybe it’s real. The door creaks open, but Noah can’t be bothered to look up. He twitches a little to let whoever entered know he’s up, but he refuses to do anything more. He knows who it is anyways. He always comes.
“Noah?” Finn’s voice is as gentle as ever, and he carefully sits at the end of the couch, keeping a hand on Noah’s ankles. “You okay?”
Noah just grunts in response. Finn chuckles softly, the sound he oh-so-loves, and slides a hand under the opening of his pants to caress his leg. “Scoot over?”
Noah accepts he won’t be getting any more sleep, so he does. Finn gets up but quickly returns to lay beside him on the couch, hugging him from behind, so comforting and so lovely.
“I was so worried, back there,” Finn says, tracing patterns on Noah’s front.
“Yeah?” Noah asks, snuggling impossibly closer to Finn, to his warmth.
“Mhm. You didn’t seem like yourself — it’s almost like you weren’t even there. God, I was so close to just — just telling Ross and Matt to drop the scene. To run to you. To hug you. I wanted to slime them the fuck out and stick the epilogue boyfriend up their asses.”
Noah has no fucking idea what sliming means, but he says, “Yeah,” and grabs Finn’s hand to play with his fingers. “It was pretty humiliating. I mean, I begged them to change the scene, to make it something more personal. But. They just. They never listen, Finn. They never do.” His voice breaks a little over that last part, and he could cry again, but his eyes feel so dry after that twelve session trauma porn.
Finn hugs him tighter and hides his face on Noah’s shoulder. “I know. I know, Noah. I wish they weren’t like this. They’re cowards.”
“And they’ll — they’ll just change it up in the interviews. Say that I was so moved by the scene, and that they consulted me for improvement or whatever, and. And I won’t even be able to say anything,” he says, and there’s no heat in his voice, only tiredness and suffering and disappointment. “It’s so frustrating.”
“Yeah. It’s so shit. Just straight up shit,” Finn says. “I don’t even know how they went from writing Robin’s monologue to this nothingburger of a coming out scene with a side of nothingfries of a confession.”
Nothingburger? Noah thinks, but instead he continues complaining. “Mhm. That scene — it was so powerful. I actually felt so, so emotional watching it. And I was like, ‘oh, this will definitely empower queer people all around the world’, only for them to fucking ruin everything. It’s the same message all over again. Queer people must conform with self love, and they’ll never get the guy or girl they want in the end. ‘Empowering for outcasts’ my ass.”
Finn chuckles at that, his laugh reverberating through Noah’s body. “No, yeah, definitely. And God the writing just sucked. They could’ve made so many great things, like birthdaygate or lettergate or. Or fucking mixtapegate, I don’t know. And what happened with paintinggate? They’re just never gonna address that? It’s all bullshit.”
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. What the fuck is a gate.”
“Right,” Finn says, and Noah is left more confused than before. “They also completely butchered my character!”
“Oh, you’re so right,” Noah laughs, and holds Finn’s arm tight. “God, you’re so emotionless now. Couldn’t even react to Will saying ‘I’m in love with you’. Oh, sorry, that Will has a crush on you.”
Finn hides his laugh on Noah’s shoulder, and he continues caressing his ribs. “It’s all so ridiculous.”
“I know! And it was obvious Mike liked Will back! He stared at his lips and ass, like, all the time.”
“No, I think that was just me wanting that cookie really badly.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Anyways,” Finn says, and his voice gets more serious. “I actually came here because I have an idea.”
“Hm?” Noah asks. Now he’s really curious. “What is it?”
“So . . .” Finn starts, and sits up on the couch, and Noah does the same. Now they’re standing face to face, knees crossed. “We’re gonna slime the fuck out of the Duffer brothers. I already have Joe in the plan.”
What.
“I’m sorry I still don’t know what the fuck does smile out mean.”
“Oh. We’re killing the Duffer brothers, Noah.”
Finn’s face is all serious and his voice has no humour. What the fuck is going on.
Anyways, he has nothing else left to lose. His dignity is long gone. Those motherfuckers will pay.
“What the hell, sure.”
☆
When Finn and Noah step out of the trailer, it’s dark outside already. They walk a little until they reach Finn’s trailer, and behind closed doors Noah finds something unusual. He’s pretty sure that wasn’t here before . . .
“Is that a flamethrower?” He asks.
“Yeah, Joe got it for me on my birthday. I’ve been waiting to use it for a while. Pretty cool, huh?” Finn says, walking up to the flamethrower and passing it to Noah. He’s still wearing the camo outfit and he looks fucking ridiculous.
“Sure. Cool,” Noah says, because there’s really nothing else to say. It really is cool. Noah thought Finn would grab a gun or something simple, but this makes things a lot more fun. “So, where will we do this?”
“Behind Joe’s trailer, naturally. I asked them to go there, saying I have some doubts about the script.”
“Naturally. But what if they aren’t there?” Noah asks, inspecting the flamethrower.
“I say kick away: we have this massive M1 Abrams Tank laying somewhere and we’ll think of something. Maybe you can drive it. And I don’t think they’re smart enough to suspect anything anyways.”
Noah doesn’t know how they have an M1 Abrams Tank just laying around somewhere but okay. “Yeah. Great.”
☆
The sounds of their steps are the only thing Noah can focus on to calm his nerves. He’s holding a flamethrower, and Finn has the keys to an M1 Abrams Tank. And they’re behind Joe’s trailer now, so he showed up naturally, and he started talking about Chicago or something. It’s all very much confusing.
“Hey,” Finn says, and puts a hand on Noah’s arm. “It’ll be okay. We can do this. Let’s start a new party together, you and me.”
“What?” Sometimes Finn gets really confusing
“Nothing. I’m just saying that — that it all looks really hard, I know, I’m holding the keys to a fucking M1 Abrams Tank right now, but we can’t hold back. It’s what they deserve, Noah. They put you through so much.”
Noah smiles and giggles like a high school girl. Finn is so romantic. “I know. It’s just — they’ve been such a big part of our lives, you know?”
“Tell me about it . . .”
Noah smiles softly, and he looks down at his shoes nervously. “You know . . . I’m really thankful that you’re doing this for me. I — I really love you. I want you to know that.”
Finn blushes and giggles nervously. He takes Noah’s hand in his and traces patterns onto his palm. “You know I can’t say the L word . . . But I L word you too, Noah.”
“Cool.”
Their incredibly romantic and emotional conversation is interrupted by the snapping of a branch, the sound of familiar voices, of familiar laughter. They’re here. The Duffer brothers.
“They’re here. The Duffer brothers,” Finn says.
“I just said that,” Noah says.
“No,” Finn says.
Ok. I just thought it then. “Quick, go talk to them while I prepare to load the flamethrower.”
“Yes My Dear Noah,” Finn says, and immediately does as commanded, sprinting towards the Duffer brothers and starting a conversation. Maybe he can’t say the L word, but L word is a language not spoken in words anyways.
Noah thinks he hears one of the brothers say, “Is that an M1 Abrams Tank?” before the flamethrower is ready to fire.
“Finn! Get away from the Duffers!” Noah murmurs, looking at Finn’s lips, before actually screaming “GET AWAY FROM THE DUFFERS!” with all his force.
Finn moves away, and the Duffers are left confused. They don’t see what’s coming. Noah now has a very important choice to make: Which one do I fire first. Gay or straight. But he knows who it is. He always has, deep, deep down. Straight goes first.
The flamethrower is hard to manage at first, but he quickly gets hold of it. The gay Duffer runs away, but the straight one stays there, paralyzed, like a deer in headlights, daring you to come forward. And Noah does. He fires, and the straight Duffer goes down in flames. The smell of burnt meat fills the place.
“Aghhhh! Owie, Owie! Why are you doing this, Noah?” He asks, because he for some reason can talk while being burnt to death, and Noah doesn’t question it, because he’s seen stranger things.
“You know damn well why!” He screams, and fires more gas. “For butchering Mike’s character! For making the only gay boy in Hawkins go through so many horrors! For making Will miss clouds! For giving his abuser a love story! For queerbaiting for so many years! Downplaying queer love as crushes, making Will sorry for falling in love, even ruining platonic byler! For all of that and more, burn you bitch!”
Finn stands there, admiring Noah, and he almost reminds him of Mike considering how useless he’s being right now. So much for being the heart of the party.
When Noah thinks the straggot has had enough, he stops firing, and admires his work. Ashes upon ashes where a human being used to be. Deserved.
Finn scrambles up and goes to hug Noah. “You did it! You’re an actual, full on sorcerer!”
Noah hugs back, but he’s as confused as always. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Finn says, and lets go gently. “Wait . . .” He says, and looks around the empty surroundings. “If you just slimed out the straight Duffer . . . and I just stood there like a useless piece of shit . . . then who’s driving the M1 Abrams Tank?”
“What?” Noah says, and looks around only to find the M1 Abrams Tank moving at a light speed chasing after the gay Duffer. “No fucking way. Finn, c’mon, we have to go there. There’s no way someone else is getting credit for our plan and our M1 Abrams Tank.”
And so they ran after the M1 Abrams Tank. It was straight out of a movie. Heroes by David Bowie is playing, there’s explosions in the background, and they’re in slowmo. Finn is still in that fuckass camo outfit and Noah still has that horrific disgusting fashion crime of an orange hoodie on, but together, they’re infinite. Noah can’t keep carrying the flamethrower, so he throws it somewhere, and it explodes. Later he’ll find out it was Brett Gelman’s trailer and he won’t give a fuck.
When they get there, they are just in time to see their plan be executed, but not by themselves. There’s someone else driving that M1 Abrams Tank, and they’ve just ran over the gay Duffer.
“Ow! Ohhh my god, it hurts soooo bad. Owie. Who’s doing this?” He asks calmly under the wheel before his cranium is crushed and little brain parts are flying around the place. Thankfully none land near Noah. He’d vomit. That was way too much gore for today.
“Noah, get behind me,” Finn says, acting all protective when we all know he can’t do shit, still in that camo outfit, and slowly, a figure comes out the top of the M1 Abrams Tank.
It’s . . . Oh my God.
“Millie?!” Noah yells, and runs to her as she gets off the M1 Abrams Tank. They hug when she reaches the bottom, and it feels like a dream. Both Duffers, eliminated with the power of queer LOVE, NOT CRUSHES, and friendship. Who could ask for more? “Millie, you actually did this?”
Millie giggles and breaks the hug first, accidentally stepping on a piece of the gay duffer’s brain. “Yeah. I always wanted to kill that gay motherfucker.”
“Because he butchered our characters, queerbaited, and killed the whole story in the span of three episodes?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Right. That. That’s the only reason.”
Noah thinks that’s suspicious, but he chooses to ignore it and look at Finn. “Finn, we actually did it. We saved the world. I would really love it if we killed Shawn Levy, but I really don’t know where that motherfucker is.”
“I know, Noah. And we will. We will. And I . . . I wanted to say something to you.” Noah notices Finn looks really nervous, and that’s never a great sign.
“What is it, Finn?” He asks, holding Finn’s hands and looking at him straight into those beautiful twink-ling eyes.
“I . . . . I . . . . I . . . I LOVE YOU! I’m sorry I don’t say it more. It’s not because I’m scared of you. I’ve never felt that way. But I am scared one day you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore. And I thought that if I said how I felt, it would somehow make that day hurt more. But the truth is, Noah, I don’t know how to live without you. I feel like my life started the day we found you in the set. You were wearing that fuckass bowl cut. And it was so big it almost swallowed you whole. And I knew right there and then, in that moment, that I loved you.”
“Oh, Finn,” Noah says, and starts tearing up. He holds Finn’s face in his hands and caresses his ridiculously sharp cheekbones and androgynous features. “I love you too. That was the most romantic confession I’ve ever heard. It was so truthful . . . so emotional . . . and — I feel the same way, you’re not my Tammy, you’re my Finn.”
“Noah . . . I’ll go crazy together with you,” Finn says, and closes his eyes and gets close enough to Noah’s face to kiss him. But something interrupts the moment. Millie’s back on the M1 Abrams Tank, and she’s driving it. And she’s not slowing down.
“Noah! Watch out!” he yells, and they both open their eyes to find the tank driving straight towards them. “We need to run!”
“Fuck!” Noah screams, and they run hand in hand into the sunset. Maybe they’ll escape, maybe they won’t. They’ll find a place with three waterfalls, maybe Iceland, and they can live happily ever after. Queer love always wins.
“And you know what?” Joe Keery asks, because he’s always there. “When I’m back in Chicago, I feel it.”
“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit,” Brett Gelman says, hand in hand with Mr. Clarke.
“Well,” Obama says, “I’ve seen stranger things.”
THE END. ♡