iwasmore | backdated for Frederick

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freddie

backdated for Frederick

Noah feels really guilty that his present to Freddie is late. He's seen firsthand how sucky a birthday can be here away from family and friends, and while some are lucky enough to have people from home in Darrow, Freddie isn't one of them. Though, Noah can't help wondering if there's even a person he misses badly. Every now and then he'll catch Freddie thinking of someone, but he's never brought them up.

Anyway, he's late because Whiskers had to be old enough to leave the care he was getting at the shelter. Noah couldn't have expected Freddie to bottle feed a kitten around the clock, he doesn't even know if Freddie will want a kitten at all, so he had to wait until Whiskers was ready.

And he's so not telling Freddie that that's her name, because it's super unoriginal.

So Noah has As Of Yet Unnamed Kitten tucked into a small basket underneath a blanket to keep her warm from the cold. He knocks at Freddie's apartment door, hoping he's home. He hadn't texted or anything first, wanting to make up for the belated gift by making it a surprise. "Special delivery!" he calls in a high-pitched voice.

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For Noah it's as friendly as he is with anyone, he likes to touch, he likes to feel a connection with people. But maybe he misses Freddie, how they used to be. So maybe he is the asshole, even if Freddie says he isn't.

"Does thinking inappropriate thoughts about your friend's boyfriend count?" he asks lightly, taking a long drink and watching the kitten-- Nora play.

That's hardly what Freddie's expecting and his lips twitch upward in a grin even as he refuses to acknowledge the twist of discomfort low in his belly. There's no attempt at coy flirtation in this; Noah isn't alluding to Freddie in any way and that shouldn't bother him. It shouldn't matter at all.

"Yeah?" he asks instead, taking another quick sip of his beer. "S'pose it depends. Everyone thinks shit about people they shouldn't. Think you're only an asshole if you do anything about it."

And that, he has a feeling, Noah's not done. He's not the type.

"I guess you have a point," Noah says, his mouth threatening a smirk but not quite making it. As guilty as he feels, saying it out loud is almost a relief, alleviating some of the stress of holding onto a secret for so long. He's never really talked about it with anyone except Ronan himself, and even then it wasn't much because he'd felt so terrible. He'd sooner tell someone he's dead than about his feelings for Ronan. But he knows Freddie won't judge him, so he keeps talking.

"It sucks, though. I hate it. Wanting someone like that, and then not being able to do anything with it," he says, his statement trailing off. Noah sighs and takes a drink. "Sucks."

"Yeah," Freddie replies because he does know the feeling. It's one that had cut him deep enough he'd promised himself he'd never let it happen again, that he'd never let himself give a fuck anymore.

And he hasn't.

Which still doesn't explain why this whole conversation already makes him uncomfortable. Why does he care if Noah's apparently in love with someone else, some guy who's already in a relationship? Though maybe that's the only reason Noah ever went as far as he had with Freddie, like maybe he had something to prove to himself same as Freddie.

He crosses an arm over his chest, attention still on the little ball of orange fur still playing with the bottle cap. "Does he know then?" he asks, forcing himself to be a good friend and ignore the sting under his skin.

As good as it felt to tell Freddie about Ronan, the reality of it is quickly catching back up to Noah, a weight on his chest, a pressure that makes it hard to breathe. What a joke. He wouldn't be surprised if he's fading, something he hardly ever does. He lifts his hand a moment to make sure he isn't.

It's Freddie's question. Does he know?

Noah had tried so hard not to let him, but it was Ronan who'd said so first. That's freaking kicker.

"Yeah," he finally says, quietly. He stares at his bottle. "He loves me."

Or he did.

That's it then, isn't it? Freddie's never known how it feels to love someone and be loved back, regardless of whether or not you could be together. Once upon a time, he'd thought that Sir loved him even if they'd had to keep it secret. Looking back, of course, he can see how stupid he'd been and it only makes him feel worse.

"So what's the problem?" he asks, his voice more brusque as he suddenly sets his bottle aside and pushes off the counter and swoops down to pull the cat in this arms.

She immediately starts wriggling, batting her little arms out and mewling pitifully as Freddie tries to cradle her.

Noah glances up, his face flooding with heat at Freddie's tone, whether from shame or embarrassment he isn't sure. Maybe both.

"He has a boyfriend," Noah repeats. "Who's also my friend. They're perfect together, so it's like...I think it's just because our friend group is kind of incestuous. Was. I don't even know if he still feels that way. He moved out, and...I don't know."

Noah stops himself from rambling any further, going quiet, watching the kitten paw at the air in a detached way like he isn't really seeing her at all.

Freddie's only been to the building Noah shares with his friends a couple times, but he's yet to meet any of these supposed friends. He hasn't a clue who the guy is that Noah's in love with, nor his boyfriend.

And he doesn't care. He really really doesn't.

"So he loves you, but he's still with his boyfriend," he says, still looking at Nora instead of Noah as she continues to squirm. "Sounds like an asshole."

"No. He loves his boyfriend," Noah says, because that's the end of it as far as he's concerned. Ronan and Adam have something real, who's he to mess with that? He'd never forgive himself. Even if Ronan and Adam broke up for completely unrelated reasons Noah still wouldn't act on his feelings, it would feel too much like he was betraying Adam.

But it's all what ifs, ultimately a pointless train of thought.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to come over and get all emo on you. Like, the opposite, actually."

"He loves you and his boyfriend," Freddie says, his tone dripping in judgement. It's not that Freddie's never heard of the concept, really, but in his experience, someone's always loved more. There's a choice made at the end of the day, and maybe this guy has chosen his boyfriend over Noah, but it's still something Noah has to deal with.

It'd have been better if he'd not said anything to Noah about it at all. At least then Noah could move on, move past it. Or try to.

Nora bats at his nose and Freddie wrinkles it before wrapping his entire hand around her face gently. With another tiny meow she tries to twist away and Freddie glances over at Noah. "He's probably just messing with you, you know."

"Well, my ex was in love with like five people at the same time, so anything is possible," Noah says, trying to make his voice sound lighter than he feels, but it's a sore spot. It's a dumb sore spot, because Noah does really try to be understanding, and he never even thinks about Krem much anymore, but he guesses it can't be helped.

Noah's already shaking his head before Freddie even finishes his sentence. "He's not like that. I know him really well, he's not that kind of person."

Plus, it's hard to mess with someone who can hear most of your thoughts. He would have caught in eventually.

"Your ex just wanted to fuck people without feeling guilty about it," Freddie replies because he's heard enough about this guy to get a good feel on him, Freddie thinks. Enough to know that Noah deserved better.

And Freddie knows he isn't all that different; he just doesn't pretend to be in love with people. It's just sex.

It's always just sex.

"You have shit taste in men," Freddie decides then as Nora takes a swipe at his cheek. "Have you even fucked this guy you're into? The one with the boyfriend."

Noah actually smiles to himself a little at Freddie's comment, but he keeps his mouth closed. He really doesn't want to bring Krem into this, it's a conversation he's already had and he's well beyond moved on from it.

"No, geez," he says, taking a long swig of beer. It's almost gone and he hardly feels anything. He kind of wishes otherwise, getting drunk might not be so bad at this point. "I don't have shit taste in men, they're just either already with someone or I'm never enough for them. But I'm fucking dead, so I should probably just be glad to be like. Here."

"Well, that's stupid," Freddie says as Nora takes another swipe at him. Grimacing a bit, he pulls her away and then leans down enough to drop her onto the floor. She makes an immediate lunge for the bottle cap once again and Freddie steps around her toward the fridge, pulling out another beer for Noah as he takes another swig of his own.

"So what if you're a ghost, you're still a person. Here, at least." He pops off the lid on Noah's and then wanders back toward the living room, crashing onto the sofa and bringing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the cushions, nodding for Noah to follow. "People want relationships. It's the human condition or whatever."

"Thanks." Noah sets his empty bottle on the counter and crosses into the living room to join Freddie on the couch. He sits back, leaning fully into the plush cushions, and just holds the bottle for the moment. "You can't interrupt a cat who's on the hunt. They go into hunter mode and they don't want to cuddle."

He looks over at Freddie, returning to his statement. "And I know. I keep trying to get over it, like everything else," he says with a brief smile. "I'm trying to look on the bright side."

"Get over wanting a relationship?" Freddie asks, making sure he understands as he rests the butt of his bottle against his knee, body turned to face where Noah's made himself comfortable. He tips his head up then, not quite in challenge though he narrows his eyes. "Want to be more like me, is that it? Just fuck you way through the city without getting attached?"

Because that's definitely how Freddie prefers to be perceived. It's easier that way, he's found. No expectations for anyone, just a nice fuck and a goodbye.

It's been harder here, especially lately. It's harder to ignore people, to escape them. They get under the skin and they say shit like wanting to just be friends and then gift you with a fucking kitten. It's like the most awkward break-up ever and Freddie hasn't a clue what to do with any of it.

Noah's face goes hot. His neck goes hot. His whole body goes hot at Freddie's question, his thoughts. It's a lot, and he tries not to look away from Freddie's gaze like a coward.

"No," he forces out, and tries to choose from everything he could possibly reply with. "I don't just fuck people. I'm not...I mean, I'm not judging you, but. I don't. Because that's impossible, not getting attached. I have no idea how you can even do that. Why the hell do you think I said we had to stop? I told you..."

He shakes his head and stops himself from saying anything else. It kind of pisses him off if he's being honest, because there can't be an awkward break-up when there isn't a relationship, and there can't be a relationship when the other person involved doesn't want one.

"I meant get over not seeing myself as...a person," he finally adds. "Mostly."

It's nothing Freddie doesn't already know. Noah doesn't just fuck people; that's not who he is. That'd been clear from the very start just as Freddie had been very clear with him.

Or has he been? Because, half the time, Freddie's not even certain what he wants anymore.

Lonely, Noah had called him. That word still sticks, because he's not wrong. But it's not the sort of loneliness a cat can fix. It's the sort of loneliness Freddie can't remember ever not feeling. Only, it's worse here because he can't just pack up and move away when it gets to be too much, can't stuff it away and tell himself it'll be different somewhere else, that he just has to meet the right people. The right person. He can't move on.

He can't ignore the feeling that there is no right person. It's just something he's not meant to have.

But Noah's angry, or at least irritated, and that's always easier. Freddie's well used to pissing people off, intentionally or otherwise.

"Why d'you want to do that?" he asks, pointedly ignoring the rest. "If you're not a person, what are you supposed to be? And don't say ghost," he adds quickly, pointing his finger at Noah accusingly. "Shit's different here, isn't it? There are wizards and werewolves and vampires and everyone here still thinks of them as people. They can still get a drink or drive a car or vote. They're all people. And so are you."

They're not all the same though, Freddie knows that. No one else here is quite like Noah so far as he's found and it's got nothing to do with him being a ghost.

Freddie's thoughts ache, cooling his anger, and Noah's almost positive he stops breathing altogether. He understands that loneliness, a feeling he wonders if he wouldn't have if he hadn't been so happy with Krem for that first long while. Krem loved him, they took care of each other, and Noah would do just about anything to get that back.

He doesn't know what Freddie's trying to run from, what he's so scared of. But he's surprised to hear Freddie doesn't think there's a person for him. Noah's thought that more than once, too.

Part of him wonders what that person would be like for Freddie, and what it is about him that keeps him from being that person. But he quickly pushes those thoughts away, glad Freddie can't read his mind, guilty that he can.

He focuses on what Freddie says out loud, nodding a little, head bowed. It's what he wants to believe, what he tries so hard to be. Real. "Thanks, Freddie," he says quietly, picking at the bottle's label. His throat feels too tight to drink, so he sets it down on the coffee table and glances over.

And then, like no person should be able to do, he asks about what he heard that he shouldn't have. "Do you really want someone?"

It sounds a bit like a script, like Noah's only saying thanks because he feels he ought to, not because he believes a word of what Freddie's said. And Freddie figures he can't fault him that. He can't say he understands Noah's situation at all having never been a ghost so who is he to pretend he can? It all comes off as trite at best and bullshit at worst.

In the end, Freddie's made entirely of bullshit anyhow, isn't he?

He frowns down at his own beer before taking another sip, licking a stray drop with a frown as Noah speaks again, asking a question this time in reference to something Freddie is positive he'd not said out loud.

"You did it again," he says, but he doesn't feel too upset if he's honest. It's disconcerting that Noah can know so much about him without Freddie ever saying a word, but it's oddly kind of nice as well. He doesn't have to make the effort to put into words all the shit that's in his head. It's just there. Ugly as it all is.

Pulling in a slow breath, Freddie considers the question and then tips his head back to stare up at the ceiling. Noah can read his mind, but it's still easier if Freddie doesn't have to look him in the eye at the same time. "Fuck," he breathes eventually, and nods. "Think it'd just be nice, you know? And it's not like I've not had it before. Just never lasts." He closes his eyes. "There's always someone better."

It isn't a script, Noah does genuinely mean it. He is glad Freddie can look past what he is and thinks of him like any other person most of the time, he's grateful. He'll tell him so later, he's already said too much from Freddie's thoughts. He'll writer him a letter or something, tell him how much he appreciates Freddie.

I do it all the time, he wants to say, but only looks over, quickly cataloging the expression on Freddie's fact. He doesn't seem angry.

Noah listens, his eyes lingering on Freddie's profile. "You can't say never until your dead," he finally says, in no relation to the fact that he is and only to the simple fact that if there are still options there's still a chance it could work out. "It's hard to trust when people have hurt you. Maybe your old relationships didn't hold, but that doesn't mean future ones won't."

He goes quiet a long moment, considering. "I hear you thinking about other people, certain names repeat..."

"Does that mean you can never say never?" he asks, peeking an eye open and tipping his head down to give Noah a look. It's a deflection, an easy way of diverting an uncomfortable conversation, only Noah doesn't bite, his next statement threatening to send a panic through him.

He can only imagine the names Noah's heard in Freddie's head. Cliff and Henry, probably. Marcus. Sir. Christopher, even.

They're all names Freddie's tried to forget, people he's failed to put behind him. Because no matter where he goes, how far he runs, they're all still there, still taking up space in his head, still reminding him he's not worth shit.

Swallowing, he fights the unease boiling inside him, draws his legs up closer. "We've all got pasts, haven't we?" he says. "Is what it is?"

That probably is what it means, so long as the spell holds. It's almost a scary thought, being around forever, but knowing the fickle nature of this place he doubts it'll keep him that long. He wishes he could take the spell back to his own world, be able to stick around there. At least for awhile.

He reaches out to touch Freddie's arm, like it can stop his panicked thoughts. "No," he says, to all of it. Freddie's never talked to him about any of those people, but he doubts they're any good from how they've made him feel. Noah tries not to let himself get angry over it.

"I meant here. There are people you know here, you could date one of them."

Noah's touch is light, just a brush of fingers against Freddie's forearm and, though Freddie doesn't pull away, he does go tenses, holding his bottle tighter.

And then immediately relaxes as Noah continues, letting out a breath. Everything that's happened here is safer than anything that happened back home. So far, at least. But he has to wonder what names Noah's heard, who he's thought about.

He lets out a laugh, a half scoff and shakes his head. "What's the point? It always turns out the same. Someone always gets hurt."

That always used to be Freddie until he'd made a promise to himself not to let it happen anymore, not to get too close. It's easier to be the one to leave than the one left behind. Or at least that's what he's always thought.

Noah pets Freddie's arm, a light, soft, back and forth stroke above his elbow like you'd calm a nervous horse. The last thing he wants is to upset him. When he seems mostly okay again, Noah gives his arm a light squeeze and then lets go.

"You don't think it hurts already?" Noah asks, eyebrows raised. He can't say what's worse, loneliness, or when someone you love hurts you, but there are no good parts about loneliness. Freddie can try to bury it with casual hook-ups, but Noah doesn't think it's making him all that happy.

"It doesn't always end bad," he continues. "Otherwise there'd be no happy old married people. My parents were happy. It's possible."

backdated for Frederick

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