#noah button

Seth and Noah... 

I'm not gonna lie, I love this ship. And the RP that Nate wrote for Noah was just so cute... I imagined the poor thing beat to shit and Seth joining him in the tub to help out. 

I'm sorry that it seems like Dono is interfering, but honestly they are more like comrades. I think that Seth and Noah are the cuties~

Noah Button belongs to Nate http://cuteasa-button.tumblr.com/

Seth Diam Adra belongs to Lu http://sethdaimadra.tumblr.com

“Noah…” He did not jump at the voice, too used to it sneaking its way into wherever he was staying. Seth had this amazing ability to trace people even if they wanted to disappear completely, but then again, he didn’t really want to vanish, not from him at least.

He felt the bed shifting as the other man sat on it, he didn’t even bother tearing his eyes off of the plafond until Seth pulled him against his torso. Noah sighed, he would be irritated at the younger man later, right now he was just going to burry himself into the crook of his neck, right there. Seth was so out of place here, with his expensive cologne and fresh clean clothes while he could feel how disheveled he was, all rumpled clothes and lingering smell of sweat and dirt.

Which is probably why Seth stood up and dragged him towards the bathroom in spite of his groaning. His muscles were finally giving in, stiff and aching, as adrenaline left his bloodstream, and each step was just a bundle of pain. That didn’t stop the taller man from hauling him, still, he was grateful it was only a few steps away from the bed. Leaning against the doormat Noah raised an eyebrow as Seth started tugging onto his clothes, undressing him with nimble fingers, shaking his head he batted the tan hands off, he wasn’t disabled yet, he could still divest himself on his own damnit.

Noah was too focused on the task at hand to hear the rumpling of clothes that weren’t his own as the former Slytherin unclothed himself in the other corner of the small room. What called his attention though was the sound of water running and Seth’s hand grabbing his arm all too softly and pulling him along under the hot stream.  He couldn’t hold the moan that left his lips as he welcomed the warm water, soothing his aching muscles and washing off the past few days, the water at his feet dragging away all the dirt.

Only now did he realize how long his hair had gotten, what a silly thought, but he couldn’t even see Seth in front of him, just hints of dark skin. As if he could read his thought, a hand brushed the inconvenient locks off of his eyes and lingered on his cheekbone, brushing the skin in soothing motions. Now able to see, Noah reached for the dried out soap and gently rubbed it over the shoulder in front of him.

War had ripped everything from him. That was his thought as he was standing in front of his childhood house, clenching the porch’s gate. He’d lost almost everything, and he was about to erase what was left of his life.

First it had been his brother. Liam, so fascinated with wizards, eventually it turned out he was one as well, received his Hogwarts letter at his eleventh birthday, just like him. He’d been there when the Sorting Hat put him in Slytherin, he hadn’t thought much of it, not one to care about the wars between houses. Turns out, he should have worried, he should have seen it coming, the bad frequentations, the interest for forbidden arts, the corruption. How ironic for a muggleborn, a mudblood like they call them, to end up as a Death Eater, as the very ones that were chasing them, exterminating them. How ironic indeed. Too young, not skilled enough, it had only taken one auror to take him down. 1 year, 2 months, 5 days ago. He still remembered the date, the wound still gaping, hurting, he should have seen it, should have stopped it. He should have…

Then it had been Seth. Of course he had chosen Donoven, it had been his plan since the beginning, it was bound to happen. Yet he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. He still visited, sure, stealth, that was what they were reduced to, hiding. The timespan between visits was increasing every time, now it was mostly words sneaked under his pillow, sometimes owls came by, meanwhile his ones were never answered, too dangerous he was told. Did he mind being arrested for treason? No. Not anymore. Not for Seth. Never for Seth. In the end, one way or another, they were losing each other, no matter who won.

Eventually, he had lost Quidditch too. No one had time for it during a war. No one really cared. Maybe after… Maybe if they won. Could they even win? Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could still play, that dark scar did not seem to fade with months, his fingers were still sore most of the time. Some days he would take his quaffle out of his bags, for old times’ sake. He had lost contact with his team, after all, he was still a mudblood, dangerous for anyone who talked to him.

Gripping the handle under his hand he sighed, they had lost a son to this war, the other one had disappeared, it was only easing their suffering. Saving them. The less they knew, the safer they were. The door still creaked, his dad was never able to fix that, no matter how much oil he had poured on the hinge. That drew a faint chuckle from him, some things never changed. Climbing the stairs slowly he clutched his wand, it was just one spell. Just that one spell. Funny enough, he had finally become ridiculously better at them, so much better, well, war brought necessities, skills were one of those, at least if you wanted to live.

They say desperate times call for desperate measures; he had never been one to believe this, always finding another way, a shortcut that would not hurt anyone. He used to be so naïve. There they were, sleeping, it was better this way, it was going to be better for them, this war had marked them, their face worn out even in their sleep. And they were not even part of it, not directly, they didn’t deserve any of its outcomes. Shutting his eyes he raised his wand swiftly, visualizing the motion in his head, preparing himself. Just one swift flick of the wrist and the words that came with it. “Obliviate”.

Loose ends were tied up.