Unrequited?
AO3 Mirror
I bring you not one, but TWO (2) yaois this blessed Pride Month.
This fic takes place in the same universe as Unreadable, but it can be read on its own.
The premise is simple: hanahaki, but funny.
Enjoy :3
🌺
Noah is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me.
I would give the world to be with him.
But right now, as I look down at the sink, all I can do is stare in confusion.
A flower petal.
"Uhh… Noah?"
🌺
Noah rubs a hand over his face. It's way too early for this.
"So… you woke up with a sore throat."
"Yep."
"Then you went to our bathroom."
"Mhm."
"And then you coughed up… a flower petal?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, yes."
I hold up the petal like I've just won a really lame prize.
"Sam, is this a prank?" Noah asks, understandably.
"It's not, I swear. I don't know what else to–"
I get interrupted by my throat. Right on cue.
A cough. Then another one.
Noah quickly reaches for the bin.
"Nope, you are not vomiting on the carpet. Here."
"I'm fine– cough– I'm not a baby–"
I unceremoniously retch out something pink.
A hibiscus.
"Hm," Noah grunts, as if he didn't just see me spit out a flower.
"Are you convinced now?"
"Well, more concerned than anything, yeah. Let me get you some water."
🌺
"Yeah… I think you might have hanahaki?"
Noah puts a hand on the back of his head, unsure of himself.
"Hanahaki? What's that?" I ask.
Noah looks up at me and blinks. Twice.
"You don't know what hanahaki is?" he asks, dumbfounded.
"Uhh, no?"
He turns his laptop toward me.
"'…a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love,'" I read out loud.
I do a double-take at that last part.
"…One-sided love?"
I glance up at Noah, confused.
He looks a bit deflated. Mildly hurt, even.
"Noah, what the hell have you been reading–"
"Sam, is there something you're not telling me?"
He gives me that look that always breaks my heart a little.
"W-what? No, Noah! I… love you?"
"Why'd you say that like it was a question?"
Damn this guy and his puppy dog eyes…
I squish his face between my hands and lean in for a kiss.
"Eek!" Noah yelps.
I pull back and glare at him, somewhat menacingly.
"We have been. Together. For. Six. Years. Noah."
Noah gently lowers my hands, blushing.
"But… the hanahaki–"
"Oh my god, Noah. We need to get you on some actual literature."
"Hey, fan fiction is literature too! What are you talking about?" Noah defends himself.
A meow echoes from upstairs, seemingly in agreement.
"See? Even Mr. Mittens agrees with me!"
I feel a headache starting to form.
"Sure. Whatever. You're taking me to the doctor. Go get dressed."
"Uncultured nerd," Noah teases as he leaves the living room.
Sigh.
🌺
We just left the doctor's office.
I have hanahaki.
Noah has the biggest, smuggest grin on his face right now.
Like he wasn't on the verge of tears just a few minutes ago, gripping me like a lost child.
The doctor had to assure him, many times, that real-life hanahaki is in fact, much tamer.
No terminal illness. No life-changing surgery.
All I have to do is wait until my "unrequited love" dies out.
The symptoms should clear up within a few weeks at most.
Which kind of begs the question…
Noah stops dead in his tracks.
Looks like he's made the same realization.
"Wait, Sam, if it's not your love for me that's unrequited, then…"
I watch the smugness drain from his face.
I gently squeeze his shoulder.
"We can talk about it when we get home, alright?"
"…Yeah. Alright."
🌺
Noah takes a big, loud slurp of his instant ramen.
Gross.
"You know, there's this trope where the victim never reveals the truth to their object of affection until the hanahaki reaches its final stages. Only then does the love interest figure it out, and the victim is cured of the disease."
"That's stupid," I dismiss bluntly. "Communication is key for any healthy relationship."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Killjoy," Noah mutters.
"There's more to BL than just doomed yaoi, you know?"
Noah's eyes widen.
"Where'd you learn those words?"
"From you, idiot."
I take a bite of my noodles. Quietly.
Unlike some heathen across the table.
"Look," I tell him. "On my life, I genuinely have no idea who it could possibly be."
"You can say that again once you're on life support," Noah shoots back.
"For the last time, it's not terminal, Noah."
"You never know, Sam. You never know," he says in mock skepticism.
We're almost done with lunch when Noah suddenly lights up.
"Oh! Why don't you try reinstalling that dating app? What was it called again?"
My brain almost shuts down at the suggestion.
"Babe, you cannot be serious."
"Hey, plenty of fish in the sea, you know?" He seems weirdly into this idea.
"Are you saying we should have an open relationship?"
"What? No, of course not! Just hear me out for a second," Noah insists.
"If you say so."
🌺
Noah lays out his perfectly normal plan.
"You're gonna swipe one guy at a time. When your throat acts up, we know who it is."
"Ah yes, just like Cinderella."
"Exactly!"
I've fully given up trying to rationalize this by now.
I log in to my (very old, thankfully) account when something nags at me.
"Wait. Let's say this works and we find… whoever it is. What happens then?"
"Uhh… we'll cross that bridge when we get there?" Noah deflects with a forced smile.
"Whatever, man. Let's just do this."
And so, I begin scrolling through a dating app in front of my loving boyfriend.
Just your average Saturday afternoon, I suppose.
Swipe.
"No. I don't like his tattoo."
"Same," Noah agrees.
Swipe.
"No."
Swipe.
"No."
Swipe.
"Ehhh? Nah, not really."
Noah raises an eyebrow.
Swipe.
"No."
Swipe.
My thumb freezes.
I look over at Noah. He's staring too.
"Damn," Noah admits.
"I know, right? Still no, though."
Noah sighs in relief.
Swipe.
"Nope."
Swipe.
"Nope."
Swipe.
Noah shrieks.
"Oh god, that's Benny!"
"Huh? Who's Benny?"
"Oliver's younger brother!"
"O-oh!"
I swipe as fast as humanly possible.
"He's already old enough to be on this thing?" I ask in disbelief.
"Eugh, my eyes…" Noah groans.
🌺
After a solid hour or so of swiping, we decide to call it quits.
Noah lets out a deep sigh.
"We're never gonna find him, are we?"
"It might not be a 'him', you know?" I point out.
He stares at me blankly.
"What do you– oh. Right. You're bi. I forgot."
"Thank you so much, love."
Noah looks away for a second.
He's thinking again.
Dangerous.
"We are not downloading the dating app for straight people," I quickly add before he gets any funny ideas.
"No, no. I have a new plan. Trust me."
Before Noah can explain, a loud, disapproving growl comes from the kitchen.
It's Mittens.
"Mrrooowww."
"Ah!" Noah chirps. "I'm gonna go feed him. Be right back."
🌺
"Did I miss anything?" Noah asks.
"Well, I coughed up another flower while you were gone."
"Aw."
"What do you mean, 'aw'– never mind. Just tell me your plan."
I brace myself for impact.
"Oh, no, we're not doing anything crazy for this. Yet."
My eyes narrow.
"Go on."
"If you don't mind disclosing your entire love life to me…"
I slowly close my eyes and cover my face with one hand.
"Are you serious?"
"From start to finish, please and thank you."
Noah already has a pen in his hand from who knows where.
Sigh.
This is the worst day ever.
🌺
Truth be told, I'm very lucky to have had a relatively stable love life.
I met Noah back in college when he was a senior and I was a sophomore, and we've been lovebirds ever since.
"Really? You've never had any horrible exes?"
"Not really, no."
"Lucky bastard."
"Your lucky bastard," I remind him.
Noah decides to probe further.
"But like, you didn't have any crushes when you were younger?"
"I mean, yeah, I did, but what good is it if I can't even remember their names anymore?"
"Fair point."
Though, having said that…
"Okay, I guess Elizabeth and I were a thing for a couple of weeks."
Noah whips his head around.
"Elizabeth? Melissa's girlfriend?" he asks, awestruck.
"We went to the same high school. She hadn't had her gay awakening yet."
"Ah. I see."
Noah has the gall to giggle at me.
He mutters something I can barely hear.
"She's way out of your league, buddy–"
"I know, Noah. Thank you," I acknowledge much louder.
I resist the urge to strangle the love of my life right then and there.
"I guess that makes Elizabeth our leading theory, then?" Noah asks innocently.
"Okay, first of all, stop calling it a 'theory', and second of all, we don't even know if–"
Noah is already dialing Melissa on his phone.
"Noah! No! Stop–"
Too late. He's calling.
Oh boy.
🌺
Thinking fast, I snatch the phone from Noah's hand and put it on speaker.
Melissa picks up.
"Noah, Liz and I are kinda busy making out, so I'd appreciate you making this fast–"
I have a brilliant idea that might just save my ass.
"Heeey, Melissa!" I drawl, trying to make my speech sound slurred.
"Sam? Is that you?"
"Yeeeap. Is me. Here with my beautiful boyfriend Noaaah! Here, Noah, why don't you say somethin'?"
Noah thankfully takes the hint and decides to play along.
"Hehe, hi Mel! Is Liz there?"
"Yeah? How drunk are you two?" Melissa asks, sounding somewhat concerned.
"Hehehe, just a bit. The new wine Noah bought really hits the spot!" I chime in, adding a hiccup for good measure.
"Oookay then," Melissa says flatly.
"Say, can you hand Lizzy the phone? I wanna tell her somethin' real quick."
A short silence passes on the other end.
"Okay, what is it, Sam?" Elizabeth asks, slightly amused.
I mentally prepare myself for what I'm about to say.
"Hehey Lizzy! Just wanted to tell you that you are– hic– the most beautiful woman I have ever met! Melissa is one lucky gal!"
"Yeah, you tell her, Sammy!" Noah helpfully eggs on.
He's never called me Sammy before.
Eww.
Elizabeth lets out a small laugh. She's clearly enjoying this.
Melissa very much isn't.
"Is that all you have to say? Are we done here?" Melissa asks, clearly exasperated.
"Hehe, yep! Dare complete, Noah! Wooo!"
"Ugh. Men," Melissa grumbles before hanging up.
I shoot a cold glare at Noah.
He still has that stupid, bratty smirk on his face.
"Bedroom. Now," I order.
"Yes, boss."
🌺
After a heated session of… discipline, we're both snuggled in bed for the night.
Noah is pulling at a loose thread on his pajamas. He seems restless.
"You're thinking so loud, babe. What's up?" I ask gently.
He turns over and looks me in the eyes.
"Sam… were we not meant to be?"
My heart sinks to my stomach.
"What? No! Why would you ever–"
I stop myself.
To be honest, when you look at it like that…
Yeah.
It's not a great sign, huh?
I swallow hard and continue.
"Look, whoever it is, or whatever the reason… you are one of a kind, Noah. I wouldn't change a thing about us."
"But I'm getting in the way of you meeting your fated–"
"Screw fate. I want to be with you, Noah. Got it?"
Noah nods lightly.
"I'll get better soon, and then we can look back on this and laugh about it, okay?"
He turns toward the ceiling and sighs.
"Yeah, okay."
"Let's go to bed then?" I offer.
"Mmm," he hums back, slowly getting drowsy.
🌺
It's been a week since my diagnosis.
I take a bite of my waffle. Noah is on his phone, croissant in hand.
After the initial burst of questionable experiments, everything is pretty much back to normal now.
Well, not exactly.
Noah has been ever so slightly less cheery.
I mean, he's still very much animated, of course, but I can tell.
I don't blame him, honestly. I'd be worried if my boyfriend was sick too, hanahaki or otherwise.
But still…
I feel like there's something–
Noah interrupts my train of thought.
"Can we break up?"
I spit out a mouthful of waffle.
"Shit, sorry!" Noah quickly apologizes.
"Not at 6 in the fucking morning, dude!" I scold in resignation.
"Sorry, sorry! I mean–"
"We are not breaking up! What do you mean, Noah?!"
"Just hear me out!" Noah pleads.
🌺
"I'm just saying, we can do this as a control. Maybe I'm the one causing it, you know?" Noah insists, desperately trying to get me on board.
"And how does breaking up help with this?" I ask, struggling to follow his logic.
"The hanahaki will get worse, won't it?"
I pause for a moment.
Ah.
The doctor told us that symptoms can worsen if the victim's love interest rejects them.
Noah might actually be onto something here.
God damn it.
I don't have anything clever to say.
"…Fine. Yeah. Okay. You genuinely have a point. You win."
"See? I told you!" he says, his smug grin returning.
"However." I pull his hand toward me.
Noah's breath hitches.
"We are not doing anything stupid again. Alright?"
Noah gulps.
"Yes, boss."
"Don't– don't 'boss' me at this hour. It's your turn tonight, anyway."
🌺
Noah suggested announcing our break-up on social media and not doing anything else.
"Temporarily" moving out would be a logistical nightmare, even if only for a short time.
So I reluctantly agreed.
Better than nothing, I guess.
"Babe, you know we're gonna upset all our friends, right? Is this really ethical?" I ask, still unsure about this whole scheme.
"Oh, it's not ethical at all," Noah says nonchalantly, still busy drafting our posts.
"Thanks a lot, love."
Once everything was ready to go, we both hit send.
Now we wait as the world around us slowly implodes.
"How long until Vincent comes banging on our door, you think?" I ask.
"Like, a few hours, tops."
"Yeah, we're gonna have some very pleasant guests today. Strap yourself in."
🌺
Vincent is banging on our door.
"Hey, open up! I know you two are in there!"
He sounds furious.
We look at each other.
Then at the door.
Then back at each other.
"So who's taking the hit?" Noah asks, delaying the inevitable.
"You, obviously. I'm sick. Sick boyfriend rights."
"Ugh. Sure, whatever. It was my idea."
"How buff is the dude anyway? I haven't seen him in a hot minute," I ask.
"Oh, yeah. I am absolutely done for…" Noah says ominously.
"Break a leg out there, yeah?"
Noah turns to me in confused horror.
"Uh, not like that."
🔮
Vinny gives the door one last bang as a warning.
"Ow," Vinny hisses.
"Hey, hey, don't hurt yourself." I place a kiss on his fist, right at the site of impact.
"Sorry, Ollie, I just–"
"No, I get it. I'm gonna kill them, I swear…"
Finally, someone opens up.
It's Noah.
"Oh. Oliver. Hi."
Before Noah can say anything else, I pin him against the wall.
Hard.
"Holy sh– Oliver?! When did you get buff?!"
"He's been going to the gym with me, you know," Vinny replies from behind me, like a proud henchman.
My eyes are bloodshot.
My face is snotty.
But I couldn't care less.
This bastard is gonna pay for it.
"Go kiss Sam right now. Or else," I threaten.
"K-kiss?"
I slam my fist into the wall right beside his head.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Kiss him. Now," I demand, voice straining.
"But we already–"
"No you haven't! There's no way in hell!"
Noah rolls his eyes in defeat.
"Sam! Can you come over here for a second? The lover boys are holding me at gunpoint," he calls out.
🌺
I make my way to the front hall and– oh wow, they are pissed.
"Uhh… how's it going, guys?"
Before Vincent can charge at me, Noah swiftly grabs him.
"No! He's sick!"
The lover boys freeze in place.
"What?" they both say at the same time.
"You heard me. Physical violence against him is off-limits today," Noah warns sternly.
"Today?" I squint at Noah.
"You get what I mean, Sam."
I'm about to fire a retort when my throat starts feeling funny again.
Huh.
Might as well do a live demonstration, I suppose.
I cough up a bright pink hibiscus right in front of everyone.
The room falls silent.
Vincent and Oliver's faces go pale.
Noah is unimpressed.
Oliver is… tearing up?
"You have… hanahaki?" Oliver asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Noah and I exchange worried glances.
"Oh my god, you have hanahaki!"
Oliver is full-on bawling now.
"Ollie, Ollie, come on. Let's– let's leave them alone."
Vincent drags Oliver back to their car, his expression unreadable.
Noah and I are still staring at each other, bewildered.
"So, like, am I the only person who wasn't aware of hanahaki before this?" I ask.
Noah just shrugs in response.
🌺
The news quickly spread like wildfire.
Apparently, hanahaki is an incredibly rare ailment, and I guess the whole damn world has overblown misconceptions about it.
Both of us have had to reassure so many people that, yes, we're still together, and no, I'm not even remotely on the brink of death.
That didn't stop people from bringing me all the "Get Well Soon" memorabilia though.
It's not even like I'm bed-bound. Hanahaki is just a sore throat with a flowery bonus.
And the fruit! Why did people bring so much fruit?
"Hey, it's good fiber for… you-know-what," Noah suggested with no tact whatsoever.
But seriously though, I'm glad that so many people out there care about me. About us.
My parents called me. Noah's too. That was a fun hour or two of explaining.
I think the only person who was completely unbothered was Taylor.
"Meh, I don't get all this romance jazz. But I hope it clears up for ya soon," they said.
I gotta respect that, honestly.
But anyway, we're both, very, very tired.
I just want this damn disease to blow over.
Although, I can't help but ask myself…
Who could it possibly be?
🌺
Noah got stuck in traffic, so I'm on feeding duty today.
"Here you go, Mittens."
Mittens hisses in protest.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not Noah. Sorry. Come on, Mittens."
Another hiss.
He seems particularly uncooperative today. Not that he usually cooperates with me.
"Noah is on his way, okay? You can play with him later, but you have to eat, Mittens."
A loud growl this time.
Ugh. How does Noah even do it?
I try to remember the most recent conversation we had about our cat.
"Mr. Mittens demands a lot of respect, you know?" Noah's voice echoes in my head.
Respect, huh?
…
Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever called our cat…
"Mr. Mittens."
I get a loud meow of approval in response.
Welp, that was easy.
Probably should've done that ages ago.
Oh well.
🌺
It's 9 PM. I'm lounging on the couch.
Still no sign of Noah.
He just texted me a picture of the traffic jam. Yeesh.
"Mrroowww…" Mittens whines from the carpet.
"Yeah, I know. Sorry."
Mittens gives me a look that suspiciously looks like Noah pouting.
"Well, if you don't mind using me as a substitute…"
I extend my hand as an olive branch.
Mittens glares at me.
Hm.
"Mr. Mittens," I add.
He jumps onto me without hesitation.
"Oof!" I squeak.
I think this is the first time Mittens– no, wait, Mr. Mittens– has curled up on me like this.
It feels nice. Comforting, even.
Mr. Mittens lets out a soft purr and slowly closes his eyes.
I guess I'm his makeshift bed now.
I don't mind at all.
I let out a yawn myself, trying very hard not to fall asleep before Noah gets home.
🌸
"Sam, I'm home!" I call out.
No response.
"Sam?"
Still no response.
Huh.
I guess he must've fallen asleep before I got home.
That's weird. He always waits for me so we can go to bed together.
I open the front door and make my way to the living room.
Only to be greeted by the most adorable sight ever.
My lovely Sam, passed out on the couch, drool on his chin, with Mr. Mittens sound asleep on top of him.
I take out my phone to snap a picture when it suddenly hits me.
Oh.
Ohhh.
So that's who it is.
I dim the lights for them and head off to bed with the stupidest grin on my face.
Everything is gonna be just fine.