Re: [Outside the Rec Center.]
Noah wasn't fearless. He actually thought it was more obvious than it was, I guess, because he saw the signs of it, the way it broke out of him now and again, regardless. When he talked about Holly sleeping with the Jack Bar-Man and when he talked about Jamie—it was as much fear as it was being a jealous fucking bitch for him. It'd showed it face when he asked, more than once, if Holly didn't actually like the compliments he gave. And on and on and on. It spiked up, even running full-tilt. It was just never enough to, you know, stop him. And, to be honest, Noah didn't actually think of himself as particularly charming. He considered himself friendly and that had generally worked in his favor, pants or no. (Though, if he was being compared or likened to his alternate self, he definitely wouldn't have said he saw ANY charm in that dude. If it was there, it was immediately counteracted by the assholery.)—But, yeah, no, Noah was apparently shit at self-preservation. He was sitting here, dangling from a metaphorical cliff with his whole ass out, eating a banana.
He knew Holly was still dealing with his hangover. Noah was dealing with his, too, but it wasn't his first. That was a rough cherry when popped, dude. But, even with it, he did get the sort of contentedness. It settled in his belly like silt, even if it'd be kicked up by some spike of emotion sooner rather than later. Right now it felt like it was his, and he was chill, just sitting there with his indecently-delivered potassium. He smiled at Mr. Orange Eater, who was chiding him about sexualizing things, and he just grinned a lazy, intimate sort of grin. Like something he'd give in bed, between mounds of blankets and the openness of bare skin. Don't think he didn't know Holly was still hardish over there. "Like you're not sexualizing my banana." A peaked peek of brows, a pointed look, and Noah smiled again, laughing stupidly as he did it.
He laughed again about pissing, totally aware of the admission that came with it. "Oh, yeah." Noah smiled again, his head back against the brick and his banana held in an unintentionally suggestive location by his crotch and thigh. "Like you did." But, yeah, Daniel. "Okay, Mr. W." He could do Mr. W. Noah set his banana in the coif of its peel between his thighs and reached for his Gatorade. He shook it, frowning a little and looking over. "I mean, you're not a deviant." Earnest, even though Holly didn't always like that. "And it's cool. My closet-thing is—" He didn't know how to explain it. He shrugged and took a long swig of the Gatorade. When he was done, he wiped his lips, set the bottle aside, and watched as Holly polished off the orange. He offered the nub of his banana, and, if it was taken, he succumbed to the urge Holly resisted, and pushed his own curls off his forehead. "I just mean... Having him lay down the law. Was it weird? Do you feel weird—Will you, if I come over again?"