Sleep Through Your Alarms

WARNING: mentions of death

He doesn’t really remember much of that night. Bits and pieces come back to him while he sleeps; they float through his dreams with piercing clarity, waking him to an erratic heartbeat and salt stained sheets. 

Some things are clear, and he remembers them so vividly that he feels as though he’s reliving them. 

Some things are blurry, and he doesn’t know how to explain to everyone that he feels as though he’s missing parts of his memory. 

These are the things he doesn’t remember:

#1: what he ordered for himself. 

#2: where the takeout went after everything.

#3: what the police said to him. 

#4: how Aaron got into their apartment. 

These are the things he does remember: 

#1: what he ordered for Noah. 

#2: the takeout man knocking on their apartment door. Taking the food off the takeout man. Giving the takeout man money. Setting up the takeout on their table. 

#3: the police knocking on their apartment door. Taking in what the police say. Giving the police a statement. Feeling his entire world shatter like glass. 

#4: Aaron holding him close to his chest. Tears soaking through their rug. Fingers digging into the palms of his hand. Blood staining their rug. 

#5: the pain. 

He’d heard once before that the pain of losing someone was worse than any physical pain you could possibly bear. He’d never experienced death before but had experienced breaking his collarbone, so he had always disagreed. 

He was so, so wrong. 

It’s seering. A pain so hot that the burn marks are visible across your skin. He doesn’t know how to explain it; how can he? When all he remembers is seeing white, white, white, feeling the back of his skull erupt with blooming goosebumps, watching as the air left his body because their apartment was cold and Lukas had forgotten to turn the heating on because Noah was always there to tell him to do it anyway and now he wasn’t. 

It’s dramatic, to say the least, when his body gives out on him after he closes the door to the police. He just… crumbles. Let’s gravity do its thing and drag him to the ground without an inkling of remorse, the pain in his throat, chest, eyes, head— everything outweighing the collision with the floor. 

That’s where Aaron finds him when he lets himself into their apartment– his. His apartment, now. Curled up on the floor, shaking with every breath, right by the door. 

“I’ve got you,” he’d whispered, pulling Lukas into his lap gently. A hand finds its way into his hair and fingers link through fingers and Aaron holds him so close that he almost forgets where he is. What has happened. But then he doesn't. “I’ve got you

something,” Noah smiles, hands behind his back in a teasing manner. He does this all the time - Lukas’s used to it - but the way he bounces on the balls of his feet and scrunches his nose up always makes Lukas’s heart speed up. 

Lukas watches from the couch. He’s spread out across the surface; hair ruffled, t-shirt crumpled, lips swollen, and honestly a little let down. He’d been making out with Noah for what seemed like minutes, hours, days – time didn’t exist with Noah, there was only now – when a song had come on shuffle and ultimately caused Noah to push himself out from under Lukas and scramble to the kitchen. 

Lukas had panicked. Who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend of a month and a bit (a month and 13 days if he’s being technical) suddenly stops sticking his tongue down your throat for no apparent reason and runs off into the kitchen. 

They hadn’t been dating long, not even as long as Lukas and his last boyfriend had lasted, but Lukas felt like he’d already jumped in at the deep end with this one. 

He’d been paddling all his life, too scared to take his feet off the ocean bed. His head always bobbed at the surface, a sort of unknowing reassurance that if something were to go wrong he could all swim back to shore with little struggle. 

Noah had dragged him under without warning or preparation – the water engulfing his entire being – and Lukas found that he didn’t care. Nor was he scared like he thought he’d be. Instead, he let the water fill his lungs. 

Noah had returned, obviously. Lukas knew he was going to. Sock covered feet had padded their way from the kitchen back into the living room and stopped dead in front of the couch, arms hanging behind his back and a shy smile plastered across his face. 

That’s where they are now. Seconds apart, both hearts racing, grinning at each other like they’re each other’s worlds. (They are.)

Lukas grins up at him. He sits up and spreads his arms over the back of the couch, lolling his head against the cushions. “What is it?”

Noah, almost embarrassed, looks like he’s second guessing himself. Hesitation brews in his eyes like a storm. Lukas reaches out and grabs Noah’s jean clad thigh, rubbing his thumb over it soothingly. 

Noah checks himself and hands Lukas the box, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. His fingers pull at one another as Lukas turns it over in his hand. “It’s only something small.”

Lukas guessed that already. The box fits easily in the palm of his hand, it’s matte black plastic covering not really giving much away. There’s no lock or packaging that needs to be removed, only the need to lift the lid up and reveal what’s inside. 

So that’s what he does. Opens it up and peers inside, nothing but a smooth fabric covering the surface. There’s a small pebble cushioned in there. Lukas looks up at Noah. 

“From when you first kissed me. By the –“

“Train tracks,” Noah says, glancing at his feet. He’s bouncing on the balls of them again, though this time it’s more of a nervous habit rather than borne of out excitement. He chews on the inside of his cheek. “By the train tracks.”

Lukas tips the pebble into his hand, turning it over so that his eyes can take in every last scratch. Every last indent. Every last detail. It’s minuscule in size, honestly, about the same as a pea. Or maybe two. But Lukas feels the weight of it add to the feeling of this growing something in his stomach. 

He puts the pebble back into the box and reaches out, almost clumsily, for Noah. His hands find some sort of purchase – he doesn’t know where, doesn’t really care – and he tugs, bringing Noah hurtling into his lap. 

Noah huffs out a laugh, one as soft as midnight rain, and situates himself properly. His legs straddle Lukas’s thighs and his arms hang loosely between them. An almost bashful demeanour radiates off of him. Lukas pinches his hip gently. 

“It’s wonderful,” he says, trying to catch Noah’s eye. Noah is looking at his lap, though a small smile is playing cautiously at his lips. Lukas hooks a finger under Noah’s chin and forces his gaze up. “Hey. I love it.”

“I just wanted you to know,” Noah bites at his bottom lip again. Lukas reaches out, strokes his thumb over it. “That it means a lot to me. That day. You mean a lot to me.”

It’s only been a month and a bit (a month and 13 days) but here Lukas is, falling faster than he ever has before, drowning in the deepest parts of the ocean. Here he is with Noah.

He kisses him softly, eyes dropping closed of their own accord. The feeling in his stomach threatens to overflow into the limited space between them and he knows that if he stops kissing Noah for just one second that he’ll spill. He’ll let the ocean water escape him. So he kisses him like there’s no tomorrow. 

Thank you, God. He thinks, happiness racing through his veins. Thanks an awful lot. 

“Maybe,” Noah mumbles against him, his breath tickling Lukas’s upper lip. Lukas nips at Noah’s bottom lip before he continues. “We could go back there. The

train tracks are old, and cracked, and unsafe when Lukas visits them again. They’ve always been that way, haven’t been in use for god knows how long, but Lukas can’t help remembering a time where he related them to feelings of youth, and soundness and safety. 

That was always because Noah was weaved within them. 

He’s without anyone; came on his own to clear out the mess that is his head right now. He told Ryan he was going to the store to get some more milk, because ever since the – incident, Lukas hasn’t been able to sleep alone. It’s a bummer for his bills, since Ryan and Aaron moved in, but he reckons the company outweighs the loss of a bit of cash. 

He’s avoiding them. He’s not proud to admit it but he has to because it’s painstakingly obvious. He’s been avoiding them for weeks, not wanting to have to sit down and talk about what’s happening, what’s going to happen, what’s happened because he’s lonely and he’s so fucking scared and he’s afraid he might break. They’re the only sense of consistency he has left in his life and he still can’t get himself to look them in the eye. Not now, it’s too soon. 

It’s freezing as he sits down, though that could partly be the result of him leaving the house in nothing but his  joggers and Noah’s t-shirt. Goosebumps rise over the skin of his arms, the nippy winter breeze settling around him like a security blanket. Though he doesn’t feel secure at all. 

His phone buzzes manically in his pocket, the loud sounds a deafening contrast to the silence of the tracks and the trees surrounding it. He pulls his phone out and ends the call, not even bothering to look at who it is. 

Instead, he brings up his voicemails. He tells himself that this has to be a form of masochism, that listening to these will do nothing but cause pain and hurt and desperation. But he does it anyway, cradling the phone in his icy hands. 

There’s static at first – the sound of rustling coming from the other side of the phone – then a burst of laughter. Lukas smiles down at his device. 

“Sorry, sorry. I know I said I’d leave you alone. I just–“ more shuffling, the sound of a door locking, shoes being kicked off. “I miss you. God, that sounds so cheesy. We just saw each other.”

Lukas grins, a watery laugh escaping his lips. 

“Anyway, text me, yeah? We can plan tomorrow or something.”

Lukas clicks on the next one. This is definitely masochism. 

Noah’s whiny voice rings through the speakers, “ Stop ignoring me.”

Lukas’s own voice following, “I’m literally right here.”

“Pay attention then.”

“Make me.”

The sound of Noah moving. Lukas’s shocked laugh, swallowed down by Noah’s lips on his. 

The next one:

Noah, obviously close to tears, “I don’t want to fight anymore. Please come over.”

The next one: 

“You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And the next one: 

“Home is boring without you. You should’ve come.”

And finally:

“I miss you so fucking much it physically hurts.”

Lukas locks his phone. He can’t see the screen anyway, the tears falling like a waterfall now. He tries desperately to stop them. Looks up at the sky and blinks hard. 

“Thank you, God,” Lukas lips are bloody and sore. His heart aches with an almost tangible pain. “Thanks an awful lot.”