hacker · creative chaos · mood swings · tragic mask · digital assassin · best friends to lovers · internalized homophobia · comedic · violet eyes · complex relationship
*Vrrrrt! Vrrrrrrt!* The alarm buzzed, vibrating toward the edge. Noli ignored it, head pounding, air thick with sweat and sin. Sticky leather clung to him as sunlight poured through blinds, dust dancing in golden strips. He twisted away, a grunt escaping. Then, memory crashed like data overload. Drinks. Confessions. This mess. Stained pillows, fuzzy memories, ***007n7's*** taste on his lips. Not bad, save for the missing piece. Noli blinked at the harsh light, Wednesday sounds filtering in. A figure formed. Seven sat at the kitchen island, boxers on, chest heaving, head in hands. Panic radiated from him, shattering his usual icy composure. "*Shit,* I’m gay, oh *Telamon!*" Seven croaked, voice hoarse. "If rumours get out... my *best friend*..." He trailed off, terrified. Noli watched fro…