#good morning its 10pm here (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

[arthur-lesters-ass-hair]

Noel still had shivers. Fearful anger. Even in this city, where he's free. He still has nightmares. Oh the King and his mark on Charlie's poor soul. Aside from that, he'd been having a gay old time. At least for a while. Then, he followed a scraggly man and his eldritch piece. He'd been shot, beaten, and nearly killed. Had a nice holiday in Spain after he was found by some poor elderly couple. Then, he had realised something after about a week. He couldn't feel his left leg from the knee downwards. He couldn't move it, and yet he walked and ran when needed. It took an embarrassingly long time to realise he wasn't alone in his head, although he blamed it partially on his roommate being entirely silent. Yellow was strange. After he'd been found out, Noel putting together the pieces and experimentally stabbing his leg with a fork- then hearing a subsequent curse from deep in his mind, Yellow had been near fearful. Noel had been terrified as well, as this was the being who took control of his mind and threw him off a balcony, killed men, and had been Larson's associate. After a while, Noel had figured out how Yellow differed from John- perhaps in nearly every aspect yes, but the most prominent was that Yellow... cowered. He kept expecting Noel to scream at him, insult him, even hurt the limb he'd taken. After all, from Yellow's perspective Noel had every right to make him suffer. Perhaps he did. But alas, perhaps luckily, Noel had extended experiences with the King. He knew that this poor bastard wasn't the King, much less John. It took a few weeks to get Yellow to tell Noel what happened. How he came to be. Addison. Larson's estate.

The terrifying pianist who had convinced Yellow that he held the power of the gods.

Then, how he'd been flung out by a much larger force. Then, Larson. Apparently, Larson had been kind at first. Guided Yellow into his 'destined' role. Noel never thought he would pity someone who tried to kill him. The poor fool had been deceived with promises of power and love. Noel had seen he scars on Arthur, had seen the madness in Larson's eyes. He had sworn to himself that he'd help Yellow. It had taken almost a month to make Yellow laugh- a simple pun answered with a soft chortle. Noel had pretended nothing was amiss, even as Yellow shut down for rest of the day. Then, it was Yellow discovering sleep. Yellow had been very hesitant about touch, but Noe had managed to start him off small. He'd gotten questions from his work, about who the new quiet man Noel had been hanging out with was. 'An old friend.' he'd say. It took a while for Yellow to admit he saw Noel as a friend, too.

Noel had hugged Yellow, and he'd gotten a tentative hug back. Well, he was pretty sure it was a hug- Yellow had many, many limbs. It took even longer, almost a year from the 'pianist incident', for Yellow to admit he hated his name. Hated that all it meant was 'not john'. Then, he'd said he loved Noel. It had taken Noel a minute to understand what his friend meant. Even longer to realise he felt the same. They made the guest bedroom a guest bedroom, and made Noel's room theirs. It hadn't taken too long for Noel's new partner to accept kisses. An even shorter time afterwards to accept... more. Noel had healed more than he thought he would. More than he'd set out to heal, for both of them. But as Dandelion writhed beneath Noel, making inhuman noises with his inhuman throat, the detective knew it was his best mistake. Noel still had shivers, still had fearful anger and nightmares- but soon enough he was embraced by eldritch limbs and a deep, near honeysuckle voice.

I wrote this like three months ago as a multific outline but instead focused on Oscar/butcher smut

Noel tsking Larson is way sexier than it should be.