iwasmore | (no subject)

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Noah felt desolate and adrift. He'd never fought with his friends. Ronan would fight with Blue, Gansey would fight with Adam, Blue would fight with Adam, and every interchangeable combination between the four of them. Noah always managed to stay out of it. Someone would get mad at him, and he'd slump and go quiet and it would blow over. He didn't have the tangle of issues they had; his issues were mostly his corporeal state, and it wasn't like there was anyone to fight with about that.

Seeing Ronan attacking Krem, seeing the both of them fighting like they wanted to tear each other apart, had taken Noah back to a place he never wanted to go. The one thing he never wanted to think about. When you think someone's your best friend, and it turns violent with that person you trusted. Noah knew Ronan could be violent, but not with one of theirs. Krem might not have been Ronan's friend, but he was Noah's, shouldn't that have been enough?

And why, when Noah was so angry with him, did Ronan walking away hurt so much?

Noah had left the park without checking on Cremisius. He hadn't meant to, he just hadn't been able to hold on anymore. Now he found himself outside Hywell. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed between the fight and here. He didn't feel like he had a right to be here; what if Ronan was inside? He didn't want to look at him, right now.

Noah walked away, not sure where he belonged anymore.

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Noah hasn't existed in days. He doesn't realize it's been days, because time doesn't mean much to him. It's hard to keep track when you're randomly corporeal, when you don't eat three meals a day, when you don't sleep.

He doesn't mean to be gone so long, but he also doesn't want to exist, and the need not to overwhelms him.

When he does return, he knows it isn't the same day he disappeared because the weather has changed. It's no longer rainy or damp, the ground is dry without a hint of past rainfall. The sun is low in the sky. How many days has he missed? He feels a surge of guilt and worry.

He searches for Krem, and appears right in front of him, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Cremisius," he starts to say, like a plea. Like an apology.

Krem has the headphones that one of Tris's clients convinced him to purchase over his ears, but he hears Noah, the way he does sometimes when he's sleeping and Noah hasn't quite yet materialized but is still present. Having been looking down, he looks up shortly. There were times in his nightmares over the past few days when he thought he heard Noah, only to wake without him there.

Finding him there, really, is a mix of things. Mostly, it's a deep, washing relief, like sun-warmth after too long in the dark. He pockets his phone and pushes his headphones off his ears.

"Hi."

"Hi," Noah replies, stupidly. He looks Krem over for injuries, guilt spiking because he'd just left and he didn't even know how badly Ronan had hurt Krem. Krem is wearing his gym clothes, the cute ones Noah loves. That's a good sign, he wouldn't be working out if he was too badly injured.

God.

Noah steps closer, wanting to touch, but he almost feels like he doesn't have a right. Like it's too little, too late.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he asks in a small, scared voice.

As soon as Noah takes a step toward him, Krem hurries in, quick and insistent, to wrap him in his arms. He has to be sure Noah is real, is really there, that he hasn't just imagined him because he wants him to be there and be worried about him.

He had been stupid, with the fight. Of course Ronan would come first, because why wouldn't be. Noah had known him longer and better, and he was more injured, and besides all that, Krem was not something to be compared to someone like Ronan Lynch or Adam Parrish or lovely little Blue Sargent. Noah's friends were everything to him; of course they were first, before everything else.

He tightened his arms around Noah, breathing in the strange, not-quite smell of him. It would be nice to be first.

"Yes," he said, finally, face pressed against Noah's sweater. "I'm alright."

Noah let out a trembling breath of relief when Krem's arms came around him. He clung, hands clutching tight around Krem's shoulders. When Krem said he was alright, Noah's hands moved, eager to touch, cupping the back of Krem's head, tilting Krem's face away from his chest so he could kiss his forehead, his cheek, searching for Krem's mouth with his.

He cupped Krem's face between his hands, kissing him long and sweet, trying not to let his own miserable desperation take hold of him, wishing he could simply kiss any hurts away. Even though everything else was wrong, he had this. He had his heart, his Cremisius.

"Good," he finally said, eyes searching Krem's, hands still cradling gently. He reached one hand down to press flat against Krem's chest, feeling for his heartbeat. "I'm so sorry that I left. I didn't-- I didn't mean to. I was overwhelmed. How long was I gone?"

Edited 2015-10-08 03:53 (UTC)

Krem sighed into the kiss, touching Noah's hands reassuringly. He murmured to him softly, reassuringly, as he kissed at his face and lips. Guilt tapped at him gently. He had to say something.

He kept his arms tight around Noah, unable to bring himself to do anything but hold him and receive his worried attention for the moment. He was glad that Noah was worried, and that just made him feel worse; he shouldn't have been glad for anything, but that Noah was here and alright.

"A few days," he said, leaning his forehead against Noah's chin. "It's okay, you were upset. I was worried. You're alright?"

Edited 2015-10-09 11:22 (UTC)

"I guess," Noah said, even though he felt anything but. He wanted to be. He wanted the other day to have never happened. He felt better, though, bolstered, now that Cremisius was here.

"It's like I shut down. Like...I went to sleep and I just woke up." He'd had no time to process anything, he just wasn't and now he was, and he felt terrible that he couldn't hold on to at least make sure Cremisius hadn't been too badly injured. He couldn't help also wondering what Ronan had been doing for the past two days, if he would even notice Noah's absence, if he really didn't want to see him again.

"I'm sorry. About what Ronan did," he added, miserably.

Krem ran his fingers gently up into Noah's hair, rubbing at his scalp gently as he continued to gently lean on him. It was comforting to have him physically here, to know he was alright and safe, to know that he wanted to be here, even after seeing Krem act the way that he had. Krem didn't even want to be around himself.

The worst part was, he wanted to go and finish the fight. He wanted to pick at Ronan until he splintered and actually said something real for once, not avoidance and misdirection. He wanted to make sure his nose stayed broken. He was more mad with Ronan than he had any fair right to be.

"You're not his Keeper either," Krem said with a soft sigh. "He made that choice. He knew what he was doing when he picked that fight. It's not like it's the first time Ronan and I have fought."

"I know, but..." Noah trailed off, unsure of what to say. It wasn't his fault, and he wasn't even in Darrow when Ronan and Krem had been introduced, but somehow he still felt responsible. "He's my friend," he finished lamely.

Or, was his friend.

Noah sighed and leaned into Krem's touch, trying to soak it up, let it replace all the bad feelings. "Can we just. Go home?" He opened his eyes and jerked back, realizing too late what he said. It wasn't like he lived there. "Your home. Your apartment."

Krem nodded a little bit, swallowing down his distaste for Ronan's behavior because, he knew, he had times when he was equally as vitriolic about the people he cared about. Sometimes even about people he didn't care about as much. There had been any number of recruits in Skyhold he had had to help set straight about propriety when it came to who got to make jokes about 'vints, and not a single one of those recruits were in that list. Dorian had not even been his friend then; just a fellow exile.

He was already half to answering, affirming Noah softly, when Noah jerked back and corrected himself. It made Krem's heart drop toward his stomach. Still, he smiled softly and nodded.

"I'm nearly done making you a nug?"

Noah was looking, and he realized his mistake - that maybe it wasn't the one he thought he'd initially thought he made. He stared, mouth parted, and bypassed Krem's following statement completely.

"Ours?" he tried, watching Krem's face for offense. He wouldn't have thought Krem would consider it part his. It felt like the closest thing to home he had. There wasn't a Monmouth here in Darrow, and his apartment meant nothing to him without anyone else in it. Prunam was at Krem's, and Noah left his phone and his money there, but, it was a lot. To share something like that with someone else.

Krem looked at him softly, lacing his fingers with Noah's. "It could be? I know you'd still come and go a lot, but it seems--"

It seemed natural to have him there. He filled a space in Krem's life, even coming and going sporadically, appearing in the kitchen or bathroom or wherever else without much rhyme or reason. It was strange, perhaps, to be so much in love so quickly. But it felt good to feel this much.

"Ours," he finally said, quiet and soft, and bumped his shoulder against Noah's.

Noah's miserable expression slowly lit up, his eyes going soft and dreamy, frown turning into a wavery smile. His fingers tightened around Krem's and he leaned in, kissing him, pressing his mouth to Krem's in between every few words. "Yes. I want that. Very much."

All thoughts of the other day left him for the moment. He tried to hang onto this feeling, onto being loved and wanted. This thing he'd never gotten to experience in life, and that he thought was impossible afterwards. But here it was, right in front of him. This perfect person.

Noah's elation was infectious. Krem smiled at him, nuzzled a little as they kissed. He sighed and, with his free hand, cupped the back of Noah's neck to hold him in place.

It tamped down on the guilt, for the moment. At least long enough for them to get out of the kiss and start walking. He had to say something. He had to learn how to talk about things, even when he didn't have all the words.

"I love you, amatus."

[continued here]

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