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for @clotpolesonly who prompted me with hair petting - ship dealer’s choice. hope you enjoy some noah/matty unedited 😅
also on ao3
Noah was a tactile friend. He would touch constantly. Headlocks with Ronan, looped pinkies on a stroll with Gansey, long hugs in greeting with Henry, and spinning Blue under his arm, dragging her into a messy waltz that always ended up with them giggling breathless on the floor. He liked to think it made people at ease, but then he never thought twice about it.
Sitting in the back of The Pig with Matthew, slumped over, fast asleep, drooling on his shoulder, Noah's touch drifted to his curls. A golden nest of soft tufts all twisting in different directions. It fanned out in a perfect halo, framing his cherubic face, angelic and effortless in its innocence. Noah had seen Matthew fresh out of the shower, over hours letting it air dry, he knew it always ended up like this with no fuss or effort at all.
He hummed along to a story Gansey was telling in the front seat, excitedly glancing back through the rear view to gauge his audience. Absently, Noah let his fingertips pull gently at one coil, stretch it taught, and let it spring back. He did it again, twisting the ringlet around his finger, then letting it go and smoothing down the fluffy mess of gold.
They were on their way home from Jordan's gallery opening. Ronan and Adam were in their own car, Noah and Matthew hitched a ride with Gansey and Blue back to their place where they'd share the pullout couch and hit the road for New York in the morning.
Gansey laughed and Noah glanced up to try and fill in the gaps. He hadn't been listening, but he was normally good at context clues, getting up to speed, faking it. He caught Blue's eye from the passenger seat.
Knowing gaze.
Drifting to Matthew, then back to Noah's hand hovering above his head.
A Blue Sargent sort of look that spoke volumes. One that he was used to being on the other end of.
The problem was…
The problem.
Was.
No one knew about them. Noah was nearly ten years older and it wasn't supposed to turn into anything serious. He'd known Matty forever solely as his best friend's younger brother. They fell out of touch for a few years and reconnected recently. After Gansey graduated college and Ronan dropped out of college, they moved to Boston, which was closer than DC had been to Noah in Brooklyn. Matthew went up to Boston to visit Ronan for Halloween and his birthday and he was… different.
Even just thinking this way, he had Blue in the back of his mind berating him about objectifying any human being, but… Matty was hot.
He was wider than before, joined a rugby team and was suddenly a gym enthusiast. Thankfully it wasn't in a steroid induced coma kind of way, but more a means to an end for a hobby he loved. He was taller, a bit taller than Ronan, and he still had those fucking dimples. When Matthew turned that thousand-watt smile Noah's way, how was he meant to cope?
The entire night, Noah was cursing the universe as the cards fell into place.
Matthew was going to school in New York.
Matthew's dorm was in Brooklyn.
Then Ronan was asking him to look out for Matthew when he rarely asked anyone for anything.
He was strategic in their first meeting. They met for brunch—a public place—and Noah had plans to see his sister that afternoon so he had an excuse to leave after an hour or two. It was a good plan, but then the hostess sat them on the back patio and the sun back lit Matty's hair into this halo bullshit and…
Noah was a weak man, he could admit it.
Matty kissed like a motherfucking dream.
Soon enough, Matty was at his apartment nonstop. First under the guise of not knowing the city very well, but then he was bringing over laundry to do because apparently Noah's creepy basement laundry was better than NYU dorm laundry. Then he was staying through the weekend. In Noah's bed.
Late one night, tangled in Noah's sheets, sharing Noah's pillow, smelling like Noah's shampoo, Matthew confessed he had always had a crush on Noah.
Look, he didn't ever claim to be perfect or moral or whatever. He just… Matthew brought the sunshine with him wherever he fucking went and Noah was lucky to be in the light for a bit.
They didn't talk about telling Ronan or Declan—Noah shuddered at the thought of that Lynch brother—but it was an unspoken understanding that it was easier if they didn't. He wasn't sure when that tipping point would be, but he knew it was coming. Matthew adored his brothers and held their opinion in high regard. He would want to tell them, hell he would want to tell their friends too.
And it's not that Noah didn't. He did, of course he did, but he felt guilty. It was wrong… wasn't it? Dating his best friend's brother, someone nearly ten years younger than Noah. Someone who said they had a crush on Noah for nearly a decade, who confessed he felt so much happier having Noah close by, who—red-faced and giggling—told Noah he loved him after a month of seeing each other. Noah had smothered that confession with a kiss and rushed to the bar to get another round of drinks and put some space between them to get his heart under control.
Noah hadn't felt like this before. Ever maybe? He didn't realize this was the romcom movie type shit they talked about. It had to be. This was the real long-haul shit. The Blue-Gansey shit, the Ronan-Adam shit, the ride-or-die, googly eyes, can't help but blush when you look at them shit.
He was a little terrified.
Point being - he should not be petting Matty's hair in the back seat of Gansey's car when there were witnesses to clock his googly eyes and blush and shit.
Noah clicked his tongue at Blue and doubled down on petting Matty's hair. "What?"
Blue narrowed her gaze, lips tilted in a smirk. "I didn't say anything."
"C'mere, baby Blue!" Noah reached out his other hand to her. "D'you want me to give you a pat too?"
Blue laughed and swatted his hand away.
"I'll sing you a lullaby," Noah promised, his hand now over his heart. "Are you sleepy, baby Blue? I know just the trick—"
"Please, don't," Blue gasped through laughter.
"Squash one—"
"Jesus Christ," Gansey bemoaned. "Not that song again, Noah, please. We had peace from it for six months before youbrought it up again."
"Squash twoooooooo," Noah crooned.
Matthew shifted in his stupor, but did not wake. He slept like the dead. Anywhere and everywhere he could fall asleep and even a plane taking off beside him wouldn't wake him.
"Stop, I'm serious!" Blue whined.
Noah mimed zipping up his lip and tossing the key out the closed window. He was silent for a beat before he continued the melody in a hum, biting back a smile. He watched Blue reach down in her handmade purple crochet purse to find something to throw at him.
"Truce, truce!" He immediately stopped humming and held up his hand to block any incoming ammo. "I've got precious cargo back here."
He caught Gansey's eyes in the rear view mirror. Then Blue's. Both knowing. Both not saying a word about what they all knew. Noah helplessly looked back down at Matthew, snuffling against his shoulder, fair eyelashes fluttering, freckles spattered across high cheekbones.
"Precious, huh?" Blue poked just a bit.
Noah didn't look up, ducking his head a bit more and resuming his ministrations of Matty's hair. Tugging a curl, watching it spring back, repeat.
