Chapter Text
In a deep sleep, Noah stirs slowly as his consciousness starts to swarm with thoughts. Stretching his legs, Noah checks the time,
9:54am
seeing he had another 6 minutes, he promptly rolls over, re-cozying himself and snuggling into his blankets…
Beep.
fuck.
Beep.
Ughhh just a few more minutes…
BEE-
Ok ok! he gets the idea, he’s getting up now. God he hates that alarm sound, he really should change it (never gonna happen).
He swings his legs over the side of the bed after turning off his alarm, hearing the soft snores of his dog Ark at the corner of his room.
“C’mere bud..” he murmurs, patting his legs as his dog peaks up and scampers over and hops onto the bed.
Petting him softly, he uses his freehand to grab his phone and his change of clothes he set out the night before and trots to the bathroom.
Swinging the door open, he spots a few texts on his phone, namely something from an unknown number. Intrigued, he opens his phone and starts to read.
(unknown): Hola, Amigos!
Oh god damnit. He knows exactly who that is.
Dread immediately fills him, even the concept of having to chat with the eel himself. Noah wasn’t even sure how he had gotten hold of his new number. What a terrible beginning to his day.
No one had his number except Owen and his friend group. How the hell did this eel get his number?
Unlocking his phone, Noah quickly uncovers the mystery, seeing that the notification was intact from the group chat his old friend group from freshman year had previously created.
(Big Guy): Oh my gosh, hey Al!!
⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
(Geoff): Alebro! so happy you joined the groupchat!
How are you healing up with the whole…
y'know! Haha
Healing up? What the hell does he mean…? He didn't think the accident was that bad…
(He spent months avoiding all of the media surrounding as he got stalked for months by reporters, thirsty for a way in or a story courtesy of the traumatized young adults)
(Caillou): Geoff wtf. Stfu thts so rude 😑
(Big Guy): Oh no!!! I completely forgot Al!!
How are you are you ok :(
(unknown): I am alright.
Thank you, my friends, for your concern.
(Caillou): Jeez u guys r fking embarrassing
(Lindz): heathrrrrr stup cussing!!!
(Cailou): Fuck off linds🥰🥰
(Lindsay): 🙁
(Cailou): Sry. Yk i’m joking right?
(Lindsay): Lol yes i du
😊😊
(Geoff): I don't get the big idea bros, I simply asked a question, no reason to fuss or whatevr.
(Bridgett): Geoff! Ugh excuse him, I’m so sorry Al!
(Geoff): Oh now he’s Al huh??
Whoof. Trouble in paradise, wonder if it's because of the scandal last year?
(Caillou): You realize that hes like
In the gc???
He can see what ur saying dipshit
(me): Somehow I don't think that's detering Geoff.
Aaaand that's where Noah decides to stop reading from the group chat, a soft laugh escaping him out of amusement.
He goes back to finishing getting ready for his afternoon class, mind wandering aimlessly with curiosities surrounding the Spaniard.
He fights his way into his three layers, careful across his chest as his undershirt snagged on his sensitive scars, throwing on the rest of his clothes lazily.
brushing his teeth and messily combing a hand through his hair. Eugh. greasy. He grabs dry shampoo and sprays some before deciding it was good enough.
Stepping out of his room and grabbing his bag and pulling on his shoes, he haphazardly grabs a bagel about to leave before he's greeted by his overzealous roommate.
“Little buddy!”
He's then pulled into a bone-crushing hug by none other than his best friend, Owen.
“Agh- let go-”
“Oh sorry!”
Owen promptly drops him, giving a sheepish grin as an apology. After a big breath, recollecting himself off the floor, Noah rolls his eyes, giving a small smile to Owen.
“It's alright big guy, how’d you sleep?” He rubs his hand comfortingly against Owen’s back.
“Pretty good, did you see the group chat?” Owen seems almost nervous. Probably has something to do with the slight falling out he and Alejandro had a while back.
“Yeah, wonder what got up Geoff’s ass, Not like Alejandro did much to provoke him.” He responds, deciding to keep the ‘beside almost aid his girlfriend in cheating on him’ part to himself.
“Right! Like, I get if he doesn’t like Al, but what’s with the attitude? He’s been through enough!” Owen’s boisterous voice booms, clearly angered by the sense of injustice in Geoff’s treatment of someone Owen deemed a friend, albeit one-sidedly for the most part.
“Mhm, I gotta go though bud I’ve got class. See you later, chubby buddy.” He speaks, endearment laced within his words as he leans a bit against Owen, pulling away when he’s deemed he’s been affectionate enough for the day.
Rushing out the door, Noah hears a faint goodbye, yelling one back, and books it to class. Definitely with absolutely no lingering thoughts on a certain Spaniard's texts who keep flashing on his screen. None at all.
__
Alejandro wakes to the sound of his roommate blasting sabrina carpenter at 10 in the morning-
Tonto no se calla la puta boca-
He reluctantly rises out of bed scrubbing his hands across his face with an exasperated groan. All he wants is a restful night of sleep and to wake up normally damnit!
Slugging his thighs over the side of his bed, dragging himself towards his chair and lifting up onto it and wheeling to his dresser. He grabs some clothes and his phone and heads to the shower.
A rough knock at the door startles him midway, glancing at his door and glaring as if it’ll shoot lasers through the man on the other side.
“ALEJANDROOO- heather texted you, check your phone!” Justin shouted through the door, then went back to singing his music.
Rolling his eyes, Alejandro checks his phone. He spots a few texts from Heather, his now ex-girlfriend, and decides he might as well see what she wants.
(Perra Calva): Hey asswipe wake tf up
Helloo???
Any day now would be gr8 thx
(me): Its 10am heather. Please, relax would you?
(Perra Calva): Wtv. Anyways r you gonna finally join that groupchat? Owens been begging legit aaaaalllll week
(me): Ughhhh. Yes, I suppose. Not sure why you had to text me this so early though.
(Perra Calva): Bc ur busy any other time of day. Duh 🙄
Rolling his eyes he goes out of their conversation, joining the group chat.
Upon entering, he makes several observations.
Number one, he already had half of the contacts in the groupchat added to his phone, the other few simply being people he didn’t want in his phone for the most part.
Immediately, he is flung into dealing with the most annoying conversation he's had in months, second only to any with José.
(Geoff): Haha
Number two, Geoff was just as annoying and irking as ever, immediately picking a fight with him. He understood why, but he was still with the girl! And it’s not like he’s shown any more interest in her, the previous being false anyways. He doesn't even like girls!
He shuts off his phone momentarily to recollect himself before his phone starts buzzing again, and reluctantly he flips it over and checks his messages.
(Perra Calva): You realize that hes like
In the gc???
He can see what ur saying dipshit
(unknown): Somehow I don't think that's detering Geoff.
Oh?
There was an appearance of someone who he hadn’t heard from before. He had virtually everyone else's numbers saved from the group already, having met most people previously and saved their contacts accordingly.
And number three, He’s got to find out who it is.
He’s not sure entirely who it may be… but curiosity gets the better of him. He saves the number to his contacts and texts a simple hello, impatiently waiting on a response.
Moving on from that shitshow,
He maneuvers his way into his shower, doing his best to get undressed without disturbing the scars surrounding his thighs and torso.
Grabbing his mahogany scented shampoo he starts to lather his scalp, glancing at his phone on the counter as it buzzes. Curious, he glances over and spots it’s the number he had texted. Perfect! they must have answered him.
God, he felt jittery, hopeful even. It felt like his own little mystery, he wondered who it could be from their group.He knew who it wasn’t, who he hoped it wouldn't be, but the anticipation was driving him up the wall.
Finishing rinsing his hair, he leans over the side of the shower seat and wipes his hands on his towel and grabs his phone.
—
Halfway through his bus ride to campus, Noah notices a notification on his phone from an unsaved contact. After double checking the number and trying to figure out where he recognized it from, dread hits him full on upon realizing it was him.
Opening the text he’s greeted with a short, seemingly simple text, but if he knew anything about the temptress himself, he was anything but. He dissects every word of the man's text and debates even answering.
(unknown:) Hello, I don’t believe I have saved your contact to my phone.
Would you do me a favor and tell me your name?
Reluctantly, he saves the contact to his phone, naming him “eel”, and texts back.
(me:) Odd way to begin a conversation.
It’s Noah.
what do you want eel
Hopefully the manipulative boy picks up on his tone as brain dead as the man is, he should be capable of understanding when he isn't quite wanted.
(Eel): Hm.
A few minutes pass, and right as Noah lets go of the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, his phone buzzes, making him jump. He's quick to check his phone surprisingly, an odd sense of excitement lingering at the thought of their interaction.
(Eel): I suppose I could be called worse.
I'm sad though Noah, are you losing your touch?
Ohh my god. Noah flips his phone over and buries his face in his hands with an exasperated groan. His phone buzzes again and he flips it over.
(Eel): I mean truly, I thought I was special!
Do I not even get under your skin anymore comelibros?
Fucking hell. Not the nicknames again. Anything but the nicknames. His face flushes red as he responds, irritated.
(me:) Oh please, don’t flatter yourself.
(Eel): I don’t even need to.
Your undivided attention is flattering enough as is.
Good god. Was he flirting? What the hell did Noah do to deserve this? Who did he anger, shit what god did he piss off to be burdened with this embarrassing conversation? God forbid Izzy or Owen see these messages, they’d totally get the wrong idea!
(me:) Y’know manipulation doesn’t work as when I already know your game.
You can drop the act Al.
Reaching his stop and feeling quite smug with his comeback, Noah turns
his phone off and hears his stop be called. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he jumps up and scampers off the bus and starts booking it to class.
—
A grimace graces his face at the nickname, face flushing in anger. God, when will people learn his name is Alejandro not Al. Rolling his eyes, he decides not to respond… at least for the time being. He sets his phone down and resumes his shower with a slight irk of familiar irritation lingering in his gut.
Taking his conditioner he starts to scrunch it into his hair, watching his hair curl gently at the ends. He grabs his soap, vanilla and woodsmoke scented, lathering it into his skin, pushing into his muscles best he can to work out some of the knots in his skin.
Rinsing himself off, he finally maneuvers out of the shower, starting to dress himself. Pulling his tank top on, buttoning his red button up and then pulls his boxers up his legs and tucks himself into it. He pulls his pants on, zipping them up. Tucking his shirt into his waistband, he loops his belt through the loops on his jeans and buckles it finally.
After finally deciding he looks good, he pulls up his pants legs. Lifting up onto the toilet seat, he stabilizes himself against the side of the counter and starts to slip into his prosthetics.
Shakily, he stands up and supports himself against the sink and tests to see if he properly slipped on the gloves of his prosthetic legs and fit into the pocket of the joints on his legs.
Once assured he was stable, Alejandro takes his phone and dirty laundry and makes his way back to his bedroom and throws the dirty clothes into his hamper. His phone buzzes again, and he glances down
(chico descarado): Perfect, you shut up
Didn't know you knew how to do that in all honesty.
He feels his face flush in embarrassment. Who does this man think he is, talking down to him like that?
Before he can even think to stop himself, he responds.
(me): Would you get off your high horse, amigo?
I mean, seriously, can’t even text you and be friendly.
But if you want me to drop my “act”, fine. Consider it dropped.
Alejandro can feel his heart racing and he's not quite sure why, but he ignores it in favor of watching Noah type a response. His face set in a slight frown, he can feel his lip twitch upwards when he sees the other boy's response.
(chico descarado): Great.
Now what did you really want from texting some number you didn’t even recognize?
I mean, generally speaking, not a great idea.
Not that you’ve ever had much of those.
God he hates how easily Noah reads him. He forgot how attentive the boy was. He quickly responds as his heart speeds up, nervous at the thought of pissing the boy off.
(me): I was curious.
You were one of the few people in that group chat I didn't have a contact to.
Alejandro pauses. He’s not sure if he should continue with that train of thought, erasing part of the message.
(me): Am I not allowed to be curious?
there’s a pause before the next response, making a small grin rise to Alejandro’s face. Finally, he felt like he got the last word, so so satisfying.
This happiness is short-lived as Noah is quick to quip back at the Spaniard, just as snarky as ever.
(chico descarado): I guess.
Regardless, weird you kept texting me even knowing who I was.
Did I really peak your curiosity that much or are you just that lonely?
A grimace threatened to cross his face, he quickly schools his expression into that of disinterest. He sets his phone down and schools his heart rate, feeling heat rush to his face in embarrassment. Why was he still texting him? Why was he caring so much about his responses, his next words, carefully crafted for the cynic to keep from aggravating or driving him away?
Lost in thought, he rolls over and looks at the time. Shit! He needs to finish getting ready for class. He didn’t even realize so much time had passed.
He gets into his wheelchair, grabbing his bag on his way out and attaches it to the back, hanging off of the handles of his chair. Rolling himself into the kitchen, he spots his roommate, who apparently, has made breakfast.
“Alejandroooo, come get some food before you leave!” Justin shouted, way too loud, as per usual.
“Sí, mi amigo..” He murmured, silently cursing ‘dorm life’ as a whole. He was grateful for the food, not so grateful for the loudness that belonged to his roommate.
He inhales the sugary smell of the food that was wafting across the apartment, spotting stacks of pancakes doused in syrup with sliced fruit and a definitely unhealthy amount of powdered sugar.
He chooses to be grateful regardless, even if the thought of eating them made him sick, even if the smell made him a little homesick, reminiscing over his mother’s many outlandish Bummerto breakfasts.
Moving towards the table, he rolls himself into his usual spot and glances at his plate. He can feel his stomach flip unpleasantly at the sight alone.
Taking his fork, he stabs down into the sugary mess. The squelch of syrup makes him bite back a gag. Lifting the fork to his mouth, he can feel the tremor in his hand act up as little pieces fall back off onto the plate and the table.
Justin glances at him and he shovels the fork into his mouth before he can ask any questions. Swallowing down the bite of food, nausea churns in his stomach. He wipes his mouth against his hand, syrup sticking to his skin instantly. Dirty, gross, syrup that tastes way too sweet.
After about half of the plate was gone and he feels he’s eaten enough to satisfy his roommates worries, he finally decides he’s done.
“Gracias, Justin. I must be going though, I have class soon.”
He pushes his plate away, opting to roll away and allow his roommate to deal with the plates as he had a “routine for it”.
Double checking he had everything, he rolls off to go to class and checks his phone only to see the text Noah had already sent him previously.
With an over-dramatic sigh, he decides to actually respond, somewhat impulsive, risky, and most of all excited.
(me): Maybe I am lonely. Planning to fix that for me chiquito?