Chapter Text
By now, Noah is almost convinced that life is playing him off as a joke. I’ll be able to help out more, his ass. Shouldn’t have talked big to Mami. Now he’s walking around outside in the dead of the night, thinking ways he’d tell his mother that he’s going to be a freeloading bum for a little longer. Baby, it’s okay. Mami would say, and she’d think that it would comfort him, but no—as if guilt hasn’t been eating him from the inside already whenever he would see her leave for work.
She should be retired already. Noah should’ve been the one making moolah for his family at his age. He should be able to afford Kris a proper checkup. Once again, anxiety pressed heavy on his shoulders. Shame licked him all over.
Know what, double the shame, because he almost bit on Reek’s offer to steal some shit a while ago. Not only was he a universal loser, he would’ve been a thief too.
Jesus, what kind of a man is he? At this rate, he shouldn’t even be able to identify as the man of the house. He’s nothing. Useless. Forget landing a job, he couldn’t even land a fucking interview.
For what it’s worth, he believed that he’s not the only one at fault why today sucked ass. They couldn’t have contacted him about canceling the interview? They couldn’t have checked his background first, decide that he ain’t it for them and just not follow through? Why waste his time? Why waste his efforts?
Why let him hope?
Dear God, he just wanted to kick things around but the last thing he needed is to get arrested.
He plopped on the curbside of a dark, narrow street. Noah should’ve been wary because he doesn’t know where the hell he was, which part of Brooklyn is this. Is he still in the neighborhood?
There was nothing but a strip of abandoned apartments and establishments, and the only thing alive besides him was the pulsing lamppost he sat under.
One...two...three seconds later, it completely shut off. That is the cue for the murderer, or a ghost to appear. Either’s fine. Noah’s done with life. One less mouth to feed.
His head bowed, his arms rested on his knees. He was a picture perfect of hopelessness.
And then out of nowhere, a sign flickered on.
“Visages” it read in an elegant cursive font, with the quotation marks included.
Noah’s interest was piqued in an instant. How could it not? When the bold, neon letters flashed so bright against the complete darkness surrounding it.
He tried to look at the inside from where he sat, the window showed nothing but pitch black glass. When he thought nothing’s going to happen, the glass door opened and a man walked out.
The whites of his huge grin was visible even from Noah’s distance.
“Hey, dude. Looks like you could use some drink.” The man greeted in a far too cheery voice. “Want to come inside my bar for a bit?” He gestured at the building with his thumb. Noah scoffed. Was business so slow that this man’s inviting someone who looked homeless?
“No, thanks, bro. I don’t have a cent on me.” Noah turned his pockets inside out to emphasize his point. “Maybe try to set up where there’s actual people, you know, not somewhere that looked like the entrance to purgatory.”
Silence followed his words. Noah thought he had offended the bar owner when all of a sudden, a shriek-like laugh was punched out of the guy.
He even bent backwards while he clutched his stomach, and he would’ve doubled over on the floor if not for his body slamming loudly against the glass wall to break his fall.
Noah didn’t understand what the fuck was funny but he just found himself grinning at the lunatic in front of him.
“I like you, dude.” Two finger guns were sent his way. “The offer still stands. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”
“How do I know I’m not gonna get mugged or something?” A smirk found it’s way into Noah’s lips. Free booze? Why not. Might be the only good thing to happen today. He stood up.
Instead of reassuring him, the barman waved his hands dismissively. “Oh, as if there’s something we could steal from you!” He snorted twice, before letting himself back inside, still giggling.
Noah felt like he should’ve been offended.
Even the interior of the bar was barely lit, the main source coming from another multi-colored, bigger “Visages” signage on the back wall and more neon lights running across the ceilings in strips.
There was a small U-shaped bar on one side, and in the middle of a room, a table with leather armchairs around it. Behind that was a staircase that lead to a void upstairs.
Several people sat on the chairs, minding their own business, though Noah got the impression that something’s not quite right with them.
First, there was an aged bearded man in a trucker getup reading a newspaper. Just what the fuck, Pops, this ain’t a coffee shop. How could he even see?! He peered at Noah from behind the pages. His gaze felt judgmental, but his face said otherwise.
In another chair was a Hispanic brunette woman who kept chugging the contents of her bottle. Beside her was a nerdy old man, even older than the trucker, reading something from a...very huge cellphone? It certainly had a massive screen, from what century was that? And finally, another woman who’s a bit mature than the brunette wearing skintight leather suit.
What a weird bunch. Is it him or they seem...liquid?
Nah. Probably just the lighting.
“The name’s Mirage.” Noah’s attention snapped back to the bartender smiling at him. Up close, he realized that the other man had a youthful appearance, the slight dark circles around his eyes didn’t even diminish that. His demeanor radiated friendliness and if Noah’s being honest, Mirage’s face was the kind of boy-next-door charm they write about in romance novels.
“Noah.” He offered back, suddenly feeling as plain and average as his name. Mirage tested it out on his tongue, his smile not faltering like it was a word solely gifted to him, and Noah didn’t know how to feel about that. “So, uhm, what do you got?” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Oh, yeah!” Mirage folded his long sleeves up to his elbow. “We got uh, the usual. Bloody Mary, Daiquiri, Martini, Long Island, Tequila Sunrise, high-grade Energon—”
To Noah’s shock, the other customers coughed loudly all at the same time.
“—oops, sorry! Uh, what else? Mimosa, yeah that. Cosmopolitan, Irish Coffee. Your call, really. I could make you any mix you want?”
Okay, so Noah got excited about free alcohol and all but actually he’s not that much of a drinker. Maybe if he got more familiar drinks in his stomach before. Which is why, in a tiny voice, he said, “A-A Diet Coke, please.”
Mirage blinked at him then laughed. “What? Hahaha!”
“W-Well, t-that...that’s like my drink appetizer, man!” He cried out indignantly.
Thankfully, Mirage shut up and went to get his order, but he was still chortling when he turned back. “Alright, my man. I’m giving you a soda-based cocktail after this so we could get you used to it.”
Six shots later got Noah crying his heart out. The other customers left one by one sometime ago.
Before the trucker exited, he caught words telling Mirage to ‘don’t do anything stupid with the human’ and that 'I will deal with your mistake later’, whatever that meant.
Noah just hoped that Mirage won’t get in too much trouble because he found himself liking the guy already. He listened to his drunken woes, about Kris, about his failed job interview, about how Reek smelled like Doritos all the time.
“It’s just so unfair, they didn’t even give me a chance!” he sniffled. The alcohol gave him a burning feeling in his throat, causing his ears to feel hot as well. He didn’t need a mirror to know that they were red, along with his nose. God, he must look like a hideous potato, and in front of this handsome angel too!
“They’re aftholes.” Mirage agreed. Noah giggled at the pronunciation. “Just keep trying, Noah. The right opportunity will come along.”
Noah let his head rest sidewards on his palm, hiccupped once, his neck stretched as he did. “Why are you so nice? Why did you give me drinksss? A guy can’t be nice and cute at the same time.” He rambled groggily as his brows furrowed, and his lips pointed forward in a pout. Primus, the human’s the one being cute here.
“Can’t a guy just treat a bro?” The side of Mirage’s lips quirked upwards.
Noah’s frown somehow deepened more. “I got bro-zoned.” He muttered under his breath like he couldn’t believe it.
Whatever Mirage’s reply was cut off by a shrill tone coming from Noah’s jacket.
The human brought out a small, black device. Pager, if he was right. Noah stared at it as if it just magically popped out in his pocket. His eyes widened comically.
“Shit! Mami!” Fingers automatically flew in a blur, pressing rapidly on the device. “Sorry, ‘Raj but I should’ve been home two hours ago! My Mami’s sending cops after my ass!” Noah panicked, and something in Mirage’s spark urged him to move.
“I’ll drive you back.” Mirage picked up the shot glasses altogether in one hand. Then he untied his apron and vest off him, plucked off the bowtie, before unbuttoning his dress shirt down to his chest.
Noah’s cheeks heat up. Of course, he drank a lot.
“B-But...but the bar—”
“It’s okay, no one’s coming in anymore.” Mirage helped him off the stool by gently taking him by the elbow. Noah immediately felt the world tilt sideways the moment his foot’s on the ground. He fell to side, slamming right onto Mirage’s chest. “Wait here, okay?”
“Mhmm.” Noah hummed, letting his body go lax against the glass wall. Mirage went to the side of the building and then he vanished in the darkness. He could hear him yelling something that sounded like ‘Bumblebee’.
Noah heard him apologize to someone. The next thing he knew, there was an engine revving. A yellow Chevy slowly rolled out of the darkness with Mirage on the driver’s seat.
“Can you walk, Noah?”
“Uh-huh.” Noah nodded. He tried a single step and then stumbled face first. Mirage was out of the car in a flash. God, how many times is he going to make a fool of himself in front of this cutie? “Aww. You named your car ‘Bumblebee’? That’s adorable, man.”
The car’s engine roared angrily.
Noah woke up the next day and his first thought was, ‘what the fuck happened?’ The drive home with—boyish smile, soft dark-eyed gaze, a warm voice. His heart rate picked up for some reason—Mirage.
Why does the encounter from last night felt like that? An illusion. Something far away. But it wasn’t. His pounding headache was proof enough that he had abused the kindness of some handsome bartender last night.
“Yo, Sonic.” the walkie-talkie buzzed too loudly for his liking. Noah squinted at the thing like he had forgotten that he had a brother. “Mom’s asking if you’re up.”
“Mmph.” His muscles protested at his movement, but he reached for the device from his bedside table. “Nnhh, Kri—Tails, yeah, I’m up. How’s your hand?”
“It’s better now. You can’t stop me from playing today. Tails over.”
There was a gentle knock on his door before it was pushed open, revealing his Mami carrying a glass of water and an Advil. “Oh, thank God, you had friends other than Reek!” Noah cringed at her volume. Guess that was his punishment for going home shitfaced. “The young man who took you home last night was gorgeous.”
Maybe because his brain’s currently functional like melted butter, he said, “Yeah. I agree. Real cute.”
Breanna already knew which team her son batted for so she wasn’t weirded out, though Noah could tell that the smile slightly falling off her lips indicated that she wanted to ask about something more serious.
When Noah swallowed the pill, it felt like two weight plates dropped in his stomach. His failed job interview (if he could call it that) coming back to him at once. He had to tell Mami now, hangover be damned.
“Ma—”
“Well, I’m off to work!” Breanna said all too enthusiastically. Noah recoiled. “Eggs and toasts on the table, soup’s on the pot. I brought in fresh newspapers but take it easy for today. Love you, kid.” She leaned forward to kiss his sweaty curls.
He watched her go. With a sigh, he kicked off his bed after ten minutes of battling the churning guilt in his guts. Here’s to hoping his Mami’s enjoying retail work, atleast.
“Was that your boyfriend last night?”
Noah spat out the water in his mouth. “Good morning to you too, bro.” He pulled up a chair from across Kris. “And why were you up so late, huh?”
“That’s irrelevant.” Kris sassed. With an eyebrow raised, he pressed on. “So?”
He loved his little brother with every cell in his body but sometimes he could be too nosey for his own good. Noah forced spoonfuls of eggs in his mouth instead of answering. His insides squirmed.
After lunchtime, Noah was stable enough to walk upright. Mami said to take it easy but his curiosity won over his throbbing headache and queasy stomach.
Most bars aren’t open during day. He’s just really, really curious about the place. He had never seen it before. Reek, of all people, would’ve known if there was a high-end bar in the nearby neighborhood, right?
Would Mirage be there? What would he say— Ahh, enough. Noah’s not going just for him. So what if he sees him, then he’d say ‘hello’ and thank him.
Fortunately, he was able to remember most of the landmarks from last night. Not long after, he was already walking through the alley with the broken lamppost.
And there.
A black, rectangular building stood innocently between two abandoned brick apartments. He could make out the unlit outline of the “Visages” in front. Oddly enough, the glass walls were so tinted that he still couldn’t see shit inside.
Noah walked further along. Beside the building was a narrow driveway leading down to some sort of a basement with a closed garage door. So that’s where the Chevy came from last night.
Alright, so the place existed. He wasn’t taken to some extra-dimensional plane and had a dreamboat of a bartender serve him. Since the “Visages” was still closed, Noah found no other reason to linger.
Maybe he could drop by later? Two people had asked him for repairs, he’d have cash to spare by then. He’d just pay Mirage and dip. Yeah, that’s a great plan. He’s already looking forward to it.
“Hey, Noah, you’re back!”
Mirage was wiping a glass dry when he turned back to greet him. His face quickly split into a dazzling smile that had Noah disliking the thought of Mirage showing that grin to other customers.
Stupid, really.
“Thought I’d settle my bill from last night.” Noah said, hands in his pockets, all suave. Like, look at him being an honest, responsible gentleman and not an opportunistic scum. Please, Mirage. Notice him.
“Oh, man.” Mirage didn’t even look at the cash. “I appreciate it, but like I said, it was my treat. Thanks, though. You’re a great dude.”
His tone wasn’t dismissive, but Noah had done what he came for, right? But he doesn’t want to leave. He wanted what he had last night. Not the free drinks, just Mirage’s company, all to himself.
Mirage slammed a Diet Coke on the bar. “Appetizers?”
Noah licked his lips, heart singing in excitement. “Hell yeah.”
Two shots of margarita later, Noah’s already giggling right at Mirage’s too close face. He had his head resting on his palm while the bartender’s upper half is basically sprawled across the bar counter.
If both of them would angle their faces directly, their lips would definitely meet in an almost kiss.
He’s being too forward, but he doesn’t care as of the moment. His body’s relaxed, yet buzzed with some sort of excitement, his head was light enough for him to feel like he’s on top of the world.
Noah kept spitting out terrible jokes and pick-up lines and the bubbly reaction he’s getting from Mirage was getting him more drunk than the cocktail.
Booze is weird.
Seeing truckers in a luxury bar is weirder.
But who is he to talk?
“Hey Pri—I mean, Peter!” Mirage shot upright quickly, much to Noah’s displeasure. He openly glared at the old man. How dare he steal Mirage’s attention.
The trucker returned a deep sigh. “Have you forgotten what we talked about last night?” He scolded.
“Eh, maybe!” Mirage shrugged with a chuckle. Noah laughed along. What a bad boy, he thought. Peter the Trucker threw both of them a disappointed look. “Shouldn’t you be resting, old man? It’s late.”
Peter grumbled about something before going upstairs, leaving the two of them alone once again.
“Your Dad?”
“Hmm. Something like that.” Mirage nodded. “Escaped home, settled here. Long story.”
Noah leaned forward with interest. “Please tell me more about you. I...I want to know you more.” Now he realized why he called them booze ‘liquid courage’. Mirage was taken aback with his request. Seeing the hesitation in his face, Noah flashed him a reassuring smile. Mirage swallowed heavily at the sight.
“But it’s getting late, you should go home before the cops knock my bar down.” He forced a chuckle out, and then walked away without another word. “Tonight’s on the house.”
Mirage refused to look at him anymore after that.
To his immense disappointment, "Visages” was closed the next evening. Come to think of it, of course a business would have a day off. Why did he feel kind of bummed that Mirage didn't tell him, though?
Did I do something, Noah frowned. Mirage seemed to avoid him last night too. But of course, it was because he's acting familiar. Tell me more about you, fucking ass. Being treated to free drinks wasn't enough? If he was Mirage he'd be pissed too.
On the other hand, he'd be more understanding. As a bartender, some guy asking for his life story shouldn't be the strangest thing he encountered.
Tomorrow night. He'll apologize to Mirage, pay him back and make sure he would never return again. Something squeezed in his chest.
In just a short time, Mirage was the only one he had formed a meaningful connection with. Even if it was just part of his job, Noah was grateful for the brief enjoyment he gave him.
Noah peeled himself off a wall to start walking back. All of a sudden, the ground beneath him trembled and he almost fell on his sorry ass. Earthquake? The ground shook again twice in succession. Noah held onto the lamppost to regain his balance.
And then something silver glinted in the dark. Noah stared, transfixed, at the sheer darkness past the bar.
When out of nowhere, two blue orbs appear in the void. It was followed by another pair and by the time there were four pairs of massive blue lights floating around, Noah had already thrown himself behind a garbage can, one hand clamped to keep his mouth shut.
What the fuck, what the fuck was happening?
Mechanical whirring pierced the silence, and then the sound of metals folding in, before several engines roared to life. Noah peeked around just in time to see a freightliner truck emerge from the dark.
A silver Porsche came after, and then someone in a pink Ducati and last but not the least, Mirage's Chevy Camaro. The vehicles moved in a single file, all sliding down the ramp towards the basement parking.
Thank fuck. It's just Mirage. Probably with some friends and his trucker dad coming home from somewhere.
He resisted the urge to go and seek his comfort.
Noah's breathing returned to normal, though his heart was still hammering in his chest. Those floating blue lights really unnerved him. What in God's name were those?
He literally slumped on the ground when "Visages" remained close after that. Right, some establishments are off for two days, no problem. Maybe Mirage encountered some technical difficulties or something. But he didn't care about the drinks, Noah just wanted to talk. Hell, he just wanted to see Mirage again.
On the third night, Noah found himself knocking on the glass door, pathetically begging. "Anyone in there? Mirage, are you in there?"
Mirage was, in fact, right behind the door.
From outside, it was impossible to see a fifteen foot alien robot sprawled helplessly all over the floor, optics forced shut to not freak the human out like what happened two nights ago.
Oh, Mirage had to summon all his processing power to not scoop little Noah in his servos and keep him for himself.
Optimus, that slag, with all due respect, had forbidden him to see Noah after his deliberate disobedience. Sure, it was his fault. They shouldn't have been operating in the first place.
The "Visage" was nothing but a petty daydream because Swerve's bar had a poisoning issue back in Cybertron.
But then he had to go approach a hopeless, lost man who needed a bit of cheering up, dress up as a bartender, offer him free drinks and force his fellow Autobots to activate their holomatters to not scare his guest.
Just this once, Optimus relented. And then Mirage did it again the next day.
He would've done it again if Noah didn't come close to knowing his secret.
Would he still try getting to know him even after knowing Mirage's true identity? Would he still smile at him like he was the best thing that happened to him recently? Would he still look at him like he was a romance novel's dream boy come to life?
Would Noah be willing to kiss something that tasted of metal?
"Pathetic." Bumblebee's radio voice flow out of his comm. Mirage ignored him. He wasn't the one with coolant-soaked faceplates after leaving his beloved human. Mirage bit his dermas.
Soon, though...
"Mirage." Optimus followed. "Your unhealthy fixation with this human is concerning. It’s distracting you during missions." Mirage ignored him too.
Atleast Noah would never become a warlord that he would have to fight for millennia. Yeah, well, Megatron's fixation with your aft is bothering us too, he doesn't say.
Outside, Noah kept knocking on the door as he called out for him. Mirage heard him sigh. "I'm sorry about the other day if I crossed a line." And his voice went soft that had his spark aching. "I know you can't hear me. I don't know where you are but I just want to say it. I miss talking to you."
Mirage couldn't help the low whine in his intakes. I miss you too. I miss your drunk nonsense. I miss your laugh. I miss your dumbaft jokes. I miss your organic warmth. I miss your big smile. Primus, why the frag is a human I just met making me malfunction like this?
"You tellin' me there's a bar not far from here and it gave you free ooze booze? Twice?" Reek grimaced around his Twizzlers. Noah might as well tell him he saw aliens.
"Yeah, "Visages", quotations included, heard about it?" Noah peered up from Reek's damaged radio.
"Nuh-uh. Never." His friend shook his head. Noah deflated. Reek's practically Spider-Man with how wide his web of connections is. "I'm getting the heebie-jeebies though, be careful. It might be a business front."
Noah shot him a confused look. "What makes you say that?"
"Like, come on." Reek threw his hands up. "A business in the middle of nowhere, shit we haven't seen or knew before. High-end, but no customers, and you said them few others in there are weird like this trucker dude. It's clearly a money laundering scheme. Face it, brah, your man is part of the mafia!"
Noah actually laughed out loud. He just couldn't picture Mirage doing shady stuff. But then again, he doesn't really know him that much, does he? "Yeah, right. I shouldn't have given you access to cable, you watch too much shit."
"So it's true?" Reek persisted with his mafia theory. Or so he thought.
"What's true?"
"You have a crush on the bartender?"
Noah felt butterflies explode in his gut. Heat flooded his cheeks. "Hey, man. Lemme tell you about this weird blue stuff I saw—"
The sign hummed to life as soon as Noah turned around the street. He took a step back, hardly daring to believe the bright neon lights bearing down on him.
Oh, thank fuck.
In his haste, he tripped over himself. Shit, he hoped Mirage didn't see that. Lame ass, calm down. Noah berated himself. He wore his tight-fitting polo shirt this time. It accentuated his broad shoulders and made his biceps bulge. All he had to do is find a way to flex it in front of Mirage as much as he could for added effect.
Boy, he's not being subtle at this point. Screw it. He likes Mirage, okay? No use denying it anymore.
Wise men say only fools rush in, but those wise men can shove it where the sun doesn't shine.
Noah drew in a long breath, straightened his shirt unnecessarily, then blew a warm air in his cold hands. Alright, here goes.
Mirage was tending the bar in his usual dark blue vest, bow tie and apron.
"Noah! Welcome back." The excitement in Mirage's voice washed over him the moment he entered the bar. Noah felt his legs go weak. How he wished he could store it in his brain to play over and over again.
"H-Hi! Uhm, 'R-Raj.." Mirage sent him his lopsided grin and a wink, and then the speech he practiced earlier, speech that Mami had the misfortune to hear, disappeared, as his brain melted into mush.
The two women on the table giggled and the nerd-looking man actually spared them an amused glance from behind his huge phone. Peter the Trucker was absent.
"So, uh—" If it's any consolation, Mirage seemed nervous too in contrast to his usual charming self. He gestured all over Noah with stiff, approving nods. "You look... nice."
"Nice?!" a high-pitched female voice interjected. "Come on, Mirage. You can do better than that!"
"Shut up, Bea!" He barked at the brunette, although his tone lacked the heat. "AC, Jack—make Bea shut up, please."
The little banter was the ice-breaker they needed. Mirage introduced Noah to the trio. Bea and AC turn out to be his sisters, Noah didn't question their distant features, and Jack was some uncle from Peru.
It's also through the siblings' banter did Noah learn that,
"He won't shut up about you, it's annoying!" Bea slammed her fist on the table. Jack’s raspberry Martini spilled all over AC’s front.
“You know what’s annoying?” Mirage’s hands flew to his hips. “You three being here. Especially you, Bea, are you solid? Come on, guys, outta here, I’m trying to impress a guy.”
AC raised both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. You heard the glitch, let’s leave the lovebirds and get out of here.” Jack only chuckled but followed his niece. Bea threw them a glare before rounding the table. “Noah, nice to meet you, by the way.” AC turned back to wave at him.
“Yeah, same here. Goodnight, guys.” Noah’s gaze unintentionally fell back on the seat AC just vacated. He frowned. There was a puddle on it. Only then did he realize that her pink shirt was clean and dry where Jack’s drink should’ve stained.
His head whipped towards the door. The only thing he caught was Bea’s retreating back. Where’s AC and Jack, then? Noah scrubbed his eyes with his fingers to make sure he’s not imagining whatever the fuck’s going on. He hasn’t started drinking, right?
Reek’s words rang in his mind, the place’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.
“Noah, are you okay?” Mirage’s hand was cold on his cheek, but it was soft. One touch, and he had already forgotten what’s bothering him. Right now, Mirage is more important than anything else.
He shuddered at the ticklish sensation where his cheek and Mirage’s palm met as Noah fully leaned into the touch. The feeling grounded him to the present.
“Sorry.” He apologized. One of his hand gently laid on top of Mirage’s. The temptation to turn his head and kiss the other man’s palm was very strong. “Got lost in my thoughts for a moment, can you get me back?”
Mirage pulled his hand away, so did his gaze. He swallowed with difficulty. When his dark eyes met Noah’s again, his expression turned serious. “Okay, then. Listen, I wanted to tell you something but I hope that it won’t change what you feel about me.”
Noah’s reply died in his throat when Mirage—dear Lord, is this it?—slowly leaned closer towards him. The air was suddenly charged with anticipation, powering up his heart in his chest. It started jumping around in excitement.
Soon, their breaths mingled between them. Noah closed his eyes, waiting for the moment.
Mirage went for his ear. “Dude, I ran out of Diet Coke, I’m sorry.”
Noah’s eyes flew open. “W-W-What the—?!” He sputtered out like a beat up car and then Mirage was laughing so hard he was writhing on the floor.
“Uh-huh, that’s right!” Mirage slammed two bottles of vodka on the counter. “We’re drinking straight from the bottle like proper dudes!”
“The only thing straight here is probably me when I get sick of y’all dumb men!” Noah wanted to bash his flustered head on the counter. Repeatedly. Until he resembled a crushed, pulpy tomato.
Mirage jumped up on the bar without hesitation. Noah yelped when he felt strong arms enveloping him in a hug. “Nuooo!” the bartender passionately shrieked. “I’m sorry, I was just kidding! I like you, I like you a LOT, bro! I mean, not as bros!”
“G-Got it! I got it!” Noah’s cries were muffled against Mirage’s chest, which caused his already red face to turn into a deeper shade. He won’t be surprised if smoke started coming out of his ears. Mirage smelled divine, and Noah cursed the fact that he had to resurface for oxygen.
Mirage released him abruptly. “Scrap! Sorry, man. I should’ve asked first! These human customs, I swear.” Awkward chuckle followed his baffling words.
“Why do you talk like you’re an alien?”
Somehow, that shut Mirage up. He froze midway to the fridge, mouth hanging open in surprise. Oh shit, oh shit. Did I screw up again? Well, why would someone ask their date that? Wait, who said this was a date?! Ground, open up and swallow his dumb ass whole!
“N-Nah, man, forget it!” Noah waved his hand dismissively. “I was just kidd—”
“Would you still like me?”
It was Noah’s turn to go speechless. When Mirage didn’t elaborate further, he pressed on, “Uhh, come again? Would I still what?”
A knowing smile twisted Mirage’s lips. “Would you still like me if I’m an alien?”
“You mean like E.T.?”
“E.T.?!” Mirage cried out as if his entire family had personal vendetta against the alien who shared his skin texture with a ballsack. “The little ugly guy in the basket?! Eww! I’m an—I mean, if I’m going to be an alien, I’d be one of those smart, handsome robots. Futuristic, you know? Not something that looked like it would be slaughtered for leather purses.”
Noah snorted at the last bit. He hadn’t thought of E.T. as a fashion accessory. “So long as you’re funny like that,” He leaned back on the stool, arms crossing in his chest as he regarded Mirage with a fond look. “We can work things out.”
Mirage’s posture went visibly lax. “Great! I mean, uh, just a hypothetical question.” He pushed the can of Diet Coke towards his guest. “Not that I’m an alien of some sort, that would be impossible! Haha! Hmm, or is it? The universe is full of mysteries.”
“You’d be totally adorable as an alien.” Noah didn’t know Diet Cokes could make people tipsy now. That, or he just stopped being afraid of not having his feelings reciprocated. He braved the distance between them and reached for Mirage’s pale hand, wrapping it in his own. It was still cold. “And I’m not saying that just because I think you’re cute.”
Would you still say that when you see the real me, though? Mirage’s hand shook inside Noah’s grip. A pleasant, tingling spark ran through his fuel lines—veins, human anatomy is still confusing—all he knew is that being skin to skin with Noah felt damn right.
“Hey, wanna move somewhere?” Mirage’s head jerked towards the empty table. “This counter is kinda in the way.”
Noah didn’t let go of his hand the entire time.
At some point in the night, their grip had become more intimate. Fingers lacing together, thumbs rubbing on the other’s skin, two shots of booze in his system gave Noah the courage to press Mirage’s hand to his lips.
Sometimes, Mirage would do the same and each time would send him overheating on the spot.
Their conversation dwindled into low ramblings as the hour grew late. Between the constant buzz in his head and the state of bliss his body was in, Noah couldn’t really make sense of what they’re talking about.
As chatty as Mirage is, he could tell that the other man’s still guarded for some reason.
It was disheartening, but Noah would wait until he’s fully comfortable with him. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the past few days.
“Noah, this is crazy, and so am I,” Mirage perked up after a while. His voice trembled when he continued after a sigh, “b-but.. I really want to k-kiss you right now.”
“What a coincidence.” Noah slurred. It was only thanks to the Margarita that he wasn’t being an incoherent idiot right now. “I’ve b-been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you. You were so gorgeous, mi amor. I woke up with a hangover and your face was the first thing I remembered.”
At that, Mirage’s smile fell slightly. Under the dim lighting and his hazy mind, Noah could’ve been imagining it. He’s done being misunderstood, though. With his fingers under Mirage’s chin, he gently tipped his face back up.
Their gazes locked. Noah let Mirage close the distance between them.
It took a few seconds for Noah’s brain to catch up. But when it finally dawned on him, the feel of Mirage’s lips, the taste, the softness—warmth immediately burst inside him like an early morning sunrise with it’s rays spread out.
The kiss was slow, clumsy even. Both their inexperience became obvious with their every move but Noah wouldn’t trade the feelings it gave him for anything.
All the rough, hurried kisses he had during his time in the army felt inadequate compared to the awkward sweetness he’s savoring right now.
He hated that they had to pull away soon. Mirage’s head quickly dropped on Noah’s shoulder when they did.
“Ugh.” He groaned. “Primus, why are you doing this to me, Noah?”
“I don’t know who ‘Primus’ is.” Noah chuckled. Must be some TV or a game character. He’ll ask Kris. His head tilted sideways to pin Mirage’s in place. His hair tickled his cheek, and him breathing on his neck brought tingling sensations that Noah was trying to reel in before they go straight south. “But same question, why are you driving me crazy too, ‘Raj? We knew each other for like, three days.”
“Eh, I’m just that hot.” Mirage shrugged. “Plus, I heard you humans hook-up for less than that.”
Us, humans? His mind scrambled at that, until the thought was overshadowed by something else.
Noah didn’t want this to be a fling.