Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gentle fingers reached for Jeremy's wrist dragging him backwards till he stumbled against a solid chest and out of the way of a group of excitable kids that shot by, cutting across their path. 

Jeremy let out a puff of breath at the sudden impact. Jean's hand was warm where it circled his wrist. As the kids passed, Jeremy stretched his head backwards to beam up at him. 

"Thanks," he grinned. 

Jean’s jaw was set into a hard line where he looked back down at Jeremy. He grunted in acknowledgement but didn't move away. Only then did Jeremy realise it was because his back was still plastered to Jean's chest, very much preventing him from going anywhere. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Jean released his wrist and took a step back. "Be careful," he said, glaring at Jeremy witheringly as he stepped around him to follow their friends.

Jeremy watched him walk on with a smile; eyes locked onto his broad shoulders, appreciating their expanse stretching his navy-blue shirt before he scrambled to catch up. 

A fair had been set up in town, a big one. Upon learning that Jean had never been to one before, the team were all too eager to gather together and make a night of it in the name of Jean's acclimation to the outside world. Or so Cat had phrased it when she'd floated the idea to the group. As expected, Jean had deemed the whole idea to be a waste of time and a pointless endeavour. But he'd been outvoted and suspiciously put up little of a fight despite not being all too thrilled. 

Jeremy surreptitiously watched him now, the way his jaw remained clenched, his arms loose but close by his side, his gaze skittering back and forth from booth to booth. He watched fondly as Jean's expression shifted, displaying his growing confusion and bafflement at the various activities lining the winding walkway through the fair ground. 

"See anything you're interested in?" Jeremy asked eagerly with a nudge of his elbow into Jean's arm.

 Jean’s grey eyes reflected the decorative fairy lights making them sparkle like stars as he looked down at Jeremy. "Yes. The exit sign," he grumbled back. 

Jeremy only grinned wider, doing a quick sweep of their options and turning to walk backwards so as not to lose their group.

"Want to try shoot some hoops?" Jeremy suggested, gesturing with his arm towards the booth they'd just passed. “Bet I can get in more shots than you,” he added teasingly.

Jean snorted, looking past Jeremy towards the stall set with a row of hoops. He watched, unimpressed, as a group of young kids tried their luck, tossing balls with frantic vigour, laughing and shouting as they raced against the ticking timer above the stall.

“Have you ever played before?”

Jean shook his head, his eyes sliding back to Jeremy. “It does not look so challenging. This cannot be a real sport.”

Jeremy laughed, “It’s a lot harder than you’d think.” Tapping the back of his hand against Jean’s firm chest, he gestured for him to follow. “Come on, lets give it a go.”

Jeremy strolled towards the stall, amused at Jean’s quiet displeased grumbling in French. He was sure whatever Jean had said was not kind, but he did not put up a fuss as he followed along, so Jeremy basked in his first victory of the evening.

As they reached the booth, he dug into his pocket and pulled out four tokens to present to the young man minding the game. The kids before them had just finished their round, tossing their hands in the air and groaning in defeat as they failed to reach the designated number of points that would win them a prize.

“Ready?” Jeremy asked as he gestured for Jean to take his place whilst the bored looking booth handler reset the scoreboard for them.

Once done, he tossed them each a starting ball, and Jeremy fought to keep his approval off his face as Jean expertly caught his without taking his eyes off him.

“All we do is throw the balls into the net?” Jean asked, testing the lightness of the ball in his hands, tossing it into the air and catching it deftly. He raised his eyebrow in question when Jeremy took too long to answer, caught up in watching his movements instead.

Jeremy shook himself and used his ball to point up at the timer. “Yep. Get as many points as you can before that timer goes out. Whoever gets the most, wins.”

Jean hummed thoughtfully and turned towards his net, his gaze calculating but curious. Jeremy took that as another victory, knowing if the man was truly disinterested, he would not have bothered to entertain Jeremy at all.

Both braced themselves as an animatic voiceover from the game told them to get ready before counting down from three.

Jeremy grinned wider when the buzzer sounded and tossed his first ball, cheering as it flew smoothly through the net. Jean cursed, missing his first shot and quickly reaching for another ball to save face. Jeremy laughed at his known edge of competitiveness showing itself. Keeping a watchful eye on Jean, he continued to toss his balls expertly into the net. It took Jean three more tries before he stopped missing his shots, his score quickly rising against Jeremy’s.

As the timer continued to count down, they sped up, tossing balls into their baskets, the animatic voice praising their skill as their scores flicked higher and higher.

They were closely tied, Jean catching up quicker than Jeremy would have anticipated for his first go at the game. Jeremy himself fell behind with a breathy curse when he missed two shots in a row, though he swiftly caught up within the last thirty seconds. They were neck and neck then, but Jean was seemingly faster and successfully tossed in one last ball a second before the timer was up, making him the winner.

He did not smile at his victory, but Jeremy noted the pleased and satisfied look in his eye as he looked up at their scoreboards.

“Great. You won a prize,” the bored booth handler droned in an unenthusiastic manner, as if he couldn’t care less. “Do you want a blue or green bear?” He gestured to the rack of colourful stuffed bears hanging off to one side of the booth.

They were cute little things, no bigger than Jab, and dressed in little yellow basketball jerseys mimicking that of the L.A Lakers. Jean looked to Jeremy, his expression carefully blank though undeniably unmoved by his prize. Jeremy nodded his head encouragingly.

Jean answered the attendant without taking his eyes off Jeremy. “Blue,” he finally replied.

The young boy unclipped the stuffed toy and handed it over. Jean considered it for a moment, then passed it wordlessly to Jeremy.

Jeremy took a moment to assess the plushie. “He’s so cute,” he said enthusiastically, petting at its head and squeezing its little feet. “What will you call him? Or her.”

Jean shrugged. “It is a toy. It does not need a name.”

“Hmm, how about Mr. Stuffington? Or, just Stuffington. Stuffy, for short.”

Jean huffed and shook his head, rolling his eyes as he turned away from the booth in search of their team. Jeremy trailed behind, soothing down the stuffed bear’s jersey.

“You’ll have to keep him away from Jab, otherwise he’ll tear all his fluff out in a second,” Jeremy noted as they walked, thinking forlornly of the shark toy Jab had already obliterated.

It had been his first gift from Jeremy and already he’d torn it to shreds. Jeremy tried not to mourn its loss too much. It was proof that Jab had fun playing with it, and that was what mattered most.

“You can keep him. It,” Jean said, pausing to glance down at the bear in Jeremy’s hands and then back up to his face.

“Oh, but… you won him. You should keep him.”

Jean shook his head, pushing the bear back towards Jeremy when he tried to hand it over. “I do not need it. If you insist on naming it, you should keep it.”

“Him,” Jeremy pressed. “And I do insist. Stuffy has the highest score in steals and assists. He will be addressed accordingly for it.”

“I do not know what that means.”

Jeremy chuckled lightly. “Remind me later to explain it to you. You know I think you’d quite enjoy basketball.”

Jean grumbled under his breath again, turning to lead them back towards their friends, now spread across an array of benches set up by various food stalls.

“What you got there, Jere?” Cody called as they neared.

They grinned, around a mouthful of corndog, right in the face of Jean’s open disgust.

“This is Henry ‘Stuffy’ Stuffington. Newest point guard of the Lakers.” Jeremy replied, imitating a wave with the bear’s paw. “Jean won him.”

“And he gave him to you?” Cody asked, their eyes flickering from Jean back to Jeremy, their smile growing wider.

Jean scowled, walking away with more muttered curses in French to settle in on the other side of the bench by Xavier.

Jeremy shrugged, hugging the bear closer as he moved to take a seat.

“He was a pretty good shot at the hoops for his first time.”

Cody hummed, making work on a second corn dog. Mouth full, they said, “Get the Double D’s to take him to the cages off campus. I bet they’d love to shoot hoops with him.”

Jeremy’s heart warmed at the thought, already picturing the scowl on Jean’s face and the hard line to his jaw as he adamantly refused to engage in wasting time on another sport. Maybe if Jeremy offered to play with him again, he might be more partial. Either way, Jeremy knew it would be fun.

“Hey Cap, you wanna come with me to get my fortune read?” asked Cody, pulling Jeremy from his thoughts.

“Ugh, are you seriously thinking about that?” Min Cai drawled beside them.

“Hell yeah I am!”

“I wouldn’t mess with that stuff, Cody babe. It’s serious business,” Cat chimed in.

Jeremy chuckled as they continued to bicker back and forth, until Cody asked him to join them again.

Jeremy shrugged. “I mean, I don’t believe in all that spiritual stuff but, sure I’ll come with you.”

“Very un- Pisces of you,” Cat remarked.

Offering a sheepish smile in return, Jeremy dug into the corn dog he’d be handed and cast a quick glance down the benches towards Jean. His eyes softened, a feeling of fondness bursting in his chest at the repulsed curl to his lip as he pushed away the offending loaded fries Xavier had set down before him.

One step at a time, Jeremy thought to himself, allowing Jean his refusal. He was determined to get Jean to experience the joys of greasy fried fair food, but he knew today was not the day to push his limits.

When Jeremy and Cody were satisfied, their bellies filled with the aforementioned junk food, they set off for the tent where a supposed psychic was offering up palm and tarot card readings.

The heavy purple drapery was hooked back to the sides to allow curious passing fair goers a snoop into the tent. Amusingly cliché, a round table with more purple cloth was set to one side two chairs on opposite ends, missing only a comically fake crystal ball. To its right was a makeshift counter, covered with crystals and home-made jewellery for sale. Jeremy gravitated towards it, keenly eyeing the pretty stones and chains, his fingers resting lightly by an array of stones coloured in a royal blue.

“Lapis Lazuli,” a female voice informed.

Cody and Jeremy both looked towards the woman who’d emerged from behind a privacy screen set up to partition the back half of the tent. She was old, though not elderly, Jeremy would guess just under forty. Her skin was as dark as Cat’s and lined with age. He hair was as black as Jean’s and fell long and straight past her shoulders. Around her neck was a necklace with a large pendant twisted into a strange symbol Jeremy had never seen before but recognised from the sign outside the tent.

“It’s pretty,” Jeremy said, eyes casting back down to the stones.

The woman hummed, “Wisdom, truth, communication, emotional healing…”

She trailed off as she listed the different properties associated with the crystal and when Jeremy looked back towards her, he felt almost captured in her assessing gaze. He smiled nervously, “Good to know.”

The smile she reflected back was almost knowing, and Jeremy felt a tiny shiver run down his spine. He quickly looked away, grateful when Cody broke the tension.

“The sign outside says you offer palm readings?” they asked.

Jeremy watched from the corner of his eye, pretending to still be engrossed in observing more jewellery.

The woman nodded her head and gestured for Cody to take a seat. “Is there some knowledge in particular you wish to seek?”

Jeremy couldn’t see Cody’s grin when they replied, but he heard it in their playful tone. “Nah. I’m just curious. A general reading will do.”

“Would you like your friend to be present?”

Cody turned back to Jeremy, quirking up an eyebrow in question. “It’s cool with me,” they said.

Making efforts to avoid the woman’s heavy gaze, Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. “I can stay,” he mumbled. “I should probably respond to mom anyway. You won’t even notice I’m here.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and waved it in the air.

In the corner of his eye, he was sure he spied the woman smirking down at the table. Jeremy continued to ignore her, instead tapping away at his phone for a distraction while Cody turned back to begin their reading.

Jeremy frowned down at his phone, scrolling through the various texts from his mother asking after his whereabouts and informing him of a family dinner he was in need of attending over the weekend. Not one minute before that another text from William had come in giving him the heads up.

Resisting the urge to haul his phone out the tent, Jeremy tightened his grip around the device and tapped out a quick text to his mother. Distantly, he registered Cody’s palms being read. Every now and then, he tuned back in, fighting to stop himself from shaking his head at the ridiculous cryptic-ness falling from the woman’s mouth.

Jeremy wasn’t much for the mystic arts and spirituality. He knew Cat was a fan of astrology and often expressed she could read people off the bat based on their zodiac signs. But Jeremy had never paid much mind to these things. Not one for believing in things like fate.

Contrary to most people, he found little comfort in knowing the events of his life, specifically those more unfortunate, were always destined to come around. If everyone’s life was planned out ahead, and free will was questionable, why had his brother suffered so much for it to end in the blink of an eye? Why had Jeremy been cursed with such inadequacy to break under the influence and pressure of his family?

Why had someone as gentle and considerate as Jean suffered so much pain and torment? If his pain was not due to the cruelty of others, why did the universe think it had the right to determine he be punished needlessly for simply existing?

He was drawn from his cynicism just as Cody’s reading concluded. Jeremy looked for signs of distress or upset in his friend’s demeanour but found only a calm sense of satisfaction. He supposed not much negativity had been foretold, as it were.

Cody had recently gone through some consequential self realisation. They were afraid to make a choice in the romantic department, afraid of rejection. All the usual mumbo jumbo that one could have easily read off anyone else.

“Happy?” Jeremy asked them as they rose from their seat and dug into their pocket to offer payment.

Cody shrugged, “More or less.”

“Would you like a reading too, Jeremy?”

Jeremy and Cody’s heads snapped towards the self-proclaimed psychic. He was certain neither of them had said his name since stepping inside of the tent. Cody chuckled and shook their head easily impressed by this trick. For Jeremy was positive that’s what this was. Some kind of sleight of the mind.

Cody bumped Jeremy’s arm with a closed fist. “Go on Cap. What’s the worst she could tell you?”

Jeremy looked back at the psychic to find her stare piercing again. A slow and challenging smile stretched across her lips. Jeremy felt a flare of indignation.

Did she think he couldn’t handle whatever nonsense she had to tell him?

Resisting the urge to rudely scoff at this, Jeremy forced a cheery smile to his face and said, “Sure. Okay. Why not?”

He was sure he had a few dollars to spare in his pockets.

“No charge,” the woman reassured him just as he made to sit down.

Jeremy felt his brain stutter, annoyingly caught off guard again. Okay, he didn’t look like he visibly had money on him. Anyone could have made that assumption too.

Shaking his head again, Jeremy blew out a breath and offered up his hands.

The woman took them in her own, hers warm and soft, gently cradled Jeremy’s across the table. She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled.

Jeremy offered a look to Cody, who snickered behind their hand.

“I see great turmoil inside you, Jeremy. You have a big choice on the horizon to make,” the woman began.

Her eyes were still closed, so Jeremy took the opportunity to roll his own.

“I see a touch of misunderstanding, or perhaps denial.”

His brow furrowed at this, taking offence. There was nothing he was in denial about. Except well… he shook the thought before it could spiral any further.

“Ahh.”

The woman’s eyes snapped open, trapping Jeremy in her gaze like she’d witnessed his abrupt change in thought.

“It seems you are an obstacle to your own desires.”

Jeremy bristled. “What does that—”

“You can have everything you want, Jeremy, if only you are willing to make the right choice.”

Jeremy shot up from his seat. “Okay. I think that’s enough.”

A hot flash overcame him then, as he struggled to accept the gentle accusation thrown his way. In the back of his mind he saw Jean’s hardened stare as he told him he was not going to law school, felt the twist in his gut every time his mother mentioned the LSATs, and saw the menacing curl of Bryson’s lip when he regarded Jeremy like he was no better than the dirt under his thousand dollar shoes.

“I appreciate the advice ma’am, but I’m not really partial to… all of this.”

Jeremy braced himself for her offence, but she only smiled at him with that same eerie knowing look.

“We should probably get back to the team,” Jeremy said to Cody, looking away from the psychic.

He knew he was being unkind and rude, but he was beginning to feel unsettled in a way that left him rattled under his skin, and he was eager to get out of the tent and away from the strange woman as quickly as possible.

Cody’s brows lifted in surprise, taking in Jeremy’s disquieted state.

“Uh, sure friend.” To the woman they said, “Thank you so much for the reading. Uh, it was great.” They handed over the cash, and Jeremy staggered towards the opening of the tent.

“Before you go, please, take a complimentary peppermint. I insist,” the woman called.

Jeremy halted his steps and looked back hesitantly, keeping his eyes fixed on the small ceramic bowl the woman now held out filled with wrapped candy.

“It is only a peppermint,” she pressed at his hesitation. “Great for soothing the mind.”

“Sweet!” Cody exclaimed, never one to turn down free food.

Jeremy cleared his throat and crossed the space to grab a mint, offering a stuttered thanks before pacing out the tent. Cody was not far behind, and Jeremy quickened his steps as they made their way back through the bustling fair.

“You good, Cap?” Cody asked.

Jeremy cleared his throat again and nodded his head. “Yeah. Sorry, that was rude of me, but she just gave me the creeps, you know?”

His body shivered on instinct and Cody moved to pat him comfortingly on the back.

“All good. All that stuff’s hearsay anyway. Made up you know? She probably gives the same spiel to everyone.”  Cody rubbed across Jeremy’s shoulders once more and Jeremy nodded his head in agreement.

They were quick to find their friends again, now crowded around a cotton candy vendor.

As expected, Jean was stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched over the team with apt disapproval.

Jeremy sidled up to him, plastering another smile on his face. “You going to try some?” he asked.

Jean turned over to look at him, his mouth parted to respond. His expression shifted as he caught sight of him, and Jeremy felt a flutter of panic in his chest. He forced his smile to stretch wider, hoping Jean would take it for what it was. Not for the first time, Jeremy was completely thrown by Jean’s ability to see past his mask.

The younger man’s eyes searched his for a moment longer than was necessary, before he finally looked away. His shoulders deflated slightly as he mumbled, “Non. It looks despicable.”

Jeremy felt a real grin take shape. “Oh, it sure is!” he preened. “But we like to indulge.”

As if on cue, Laila spun to shove her cotton candy in his face and Jeremy ripped off a considerable piece. Pushing it into his mouth, his heart soared with fondness at the way Jean shook his head in annoyance, forcing his stare away from Jeremy’s face.

Jeremy thought he caught the man’s lip twitched, as if fighting back a smile, but maybe it was just the shadows on his face shifting under the fair lights.

He basked in the way Jean’s grumpy nature already had him feeling much more settled than he’d felt a moment ago. Bumping his elbow playfully into Jean’s solid bicep as he’d done earlier, Jeremy pushed all thoughts of psychics and life dilemmas away from his mind, choosing instead to focus his energy on enjoying the rest of his evening with his friends.

~

The following morning, Jeremy woke slowly, his mind registering his slumped over position on the right side of his bed, face pressed into his pillow with the sheets pooled around his waist. His shorts had ridden up, as they so often did, and he could feel them gathered up by his crotch. One foot dangled out from the covers and over the edge of the mattress. 

Jeremy groaned, keeping his eyes closed as he slipped his foot back under and burrowed deeper into his pillow. It felt thicker, yet softer, his face sinking into it whilst the mattress below him felt like a cloud. Jeremy couldn't remember the last time he'd woken in his bed and felt this comfortable. Warmth surrounded him pleasantly, and he cracked one eye open to find sunlight streaming into the room and scattering over his back. 

His nose registered an unfamiliar but comforting smell and Jeremy let his eyes slip shut again as he inhaled deeply, wishing he could wake this way every morning without the shrill shock of an alarm shooting him out of sleep. 

It was then that panic flooded him, his eyes snapping open as he sat up with a start. 

Jeremy blinked away his grogginess.

He had overslept. He was going to miss practice.

Pressing his fingers into his eyes to clear his vision, Jeremy was struck by a sense of strangeness as his brain finally caught up to his body. 

This was not his room.

This was not his bed.

 And this certainly was not his house. 

Jeremy bolted from the mattress, tossing aside the sheets and stumbling to his feet. Nausea rocked through him, his heart thumping at the sudden shock of his body moving from lying stationary in a deep sleep to sudden wakefulness. 

Had he hooked up with someone last night? 

He rubbed at his eyes again as he tried to recall his evening, catching sight of his shorts and muscle shirt. A hook up was surely out of the question, Jeremy never stayed to sleep over for the night in another person’s bed.

He had always tucked tail and run as soon as he'd gotten his fix in the form of physical release. Never had he allowed himself to linger beyond what his body needed to settle his mind.

Not that said release ever helped for more than a few hours. Not that it ever made him feel any less empty and alone.

Shaking off all self-deprecating thoughts, Jeremy pressed a hand to his chest and studied his surroundings. His vision was still a little blurry, but he could make out a dresser before him, a long mirror reflecting his unkempt state, as well as a door likely leading to a walk-in closet on the opposite side of the room. What looked like a dog bed was tucked into the corner, an abandoned chew toy its only occupant. The walls were lined with pictures, and the room was evidently well lived in, but Jeremy’s eyes focused only on the bedroom door left slightly ajar.

Had someone taken him? Kidnapped him?

Terror shuddered through him as his stomach dropped, his nerve endings fizzling with dread. Jeremy felt himself shake with adrenaline, as he pushed himself from the edge of the bed, creeping towards the bedroom door.

He crouched over by the wall, peering into the hallway, wincing as pain pierced through his skull. He cursed, and clutched at his head, feeling nauseous again.

Had he been drugged?

Jeremy had never quite felt this shaken before.

He could not recall anything from the night before but was certain he’d made it home safely after spending the evening with his friends. Panic built in his chest and shot through his veins until it reached his brain. He pressed his palm to his forehead in attempt to relieve the pressure though it offered little comfort.

He needed to find out where he was, he needed to find out how to get out of here without being murdered, or worse.

Sucking in a deep breath and focusing back on his surroundings, Jeremy listened carefully for any sounds of movement from beyond the door. The house (that Jeremy did not at all recognise) seemed eerily quiet.

Swallowing thickly, he braced himself and leant further into the hallway, noting its lightness and feeling himself settle at the sight of it, against his better judgement.

Steeling his nerves and smoothing down his clothes, Jeremy creeped out of the room. The first step had him swaying on his feet, throwing his hands out to keep himself balanced as dizziness washed over him. In his chest his heart thrummed, beating senselessly against his ribcage. Jeremy pressed a hand to his chest and forced himself forward and further down the hall towards the edge of the staircase.

Distantly, he berated himself for not arming himself with anything he could use as a weapon. He couldn’t know what was waiting for him in the house and now he’d have to take his chances with whoever he might find. But Jeremy could throw a mean punch when he needed to, and his fist tightened over the wooden banister as he continued moving forward.

The hallway was lined with several rooms, and Jeremy even noted a bathroom as he passed though he did not linger, fearing that if he let his curiosity get the better of him for even a second it could mean all the difference between life and death.

When he finally reached the top of the stairs, halfway down the hall, he paused. Flexing his grip over the wooden banister, lips pressed together anxiously, he listened for more sounds of movement from below.

Though Jeremy could not make out much (except the drumming of his own heart), his nose caught the faint smell of breakfast wafting up through the house. His stomach rumbled with hunger.

He cursed and pressed a hand to his abdomen in a feeble attempt to stifle the sounds. Not that anyone appeared to be around to hear them. Perhaps his supposed captor was planning to wake him soon and bring him food. Or perhaps not. Regardless, Jeremy did not plan to be there when they came looking for him.

He swallowed around the bile rising in his throat, checking the state of his clothes and fearing the worst had been done to him.

Had he been…?

Jeremy feared to finish the thought and shook his head in protest. Nothing about his body felt achy in that way. And he could only hope his mind was jumping to the worst of conclusion.

Spurred on by a fierce determination to get back to safety, Jeremy tightened his grip on the banister and tiptoed down the stairs on shaky legs. Moving slow but swift, he kept his steps as light as possible so as not to be heard.

He had just reached the bottom step when a fully grown and seemingly menacing doberman came slouching around the corner, pausing at the sight of him.

Jeremy froze. Breath caught in his throat, his eyes widened with horror at the thought that the domineering beast might open its mouth and bark at his appearance, altering whoever was clearly in the kitchen.

But the dog only trotted up to him, its tail wagging with relaxed joy as it pressed its wet nose against leg to sniff him.

Jeremy could only stand where he was, still petrified with shock and fear, unable to return the animal’s greeting. When Jeremy offered up no affection in return, the doberman deemed him undeserving of its time and snorted before pattering on through the house and past the stairs.

Jeremy scrambled to lean around the staircase watching it go. He couldn’t help the strange sense of affection he felt at the sight of it, and the creeping guilt at not returning its greeting. Had the dog known him? Did he know whoever’s house he had ended up in?

Curiosity pushed him precariously to the edge, and Jeremy knew he was making a grave mistake, but he could not stop himself as he slipped silently down the hall. Some part of him registered pictures lining the walls again, but he paid them little mind as he was drawn closer by the sounds of low music over the sizzling of food cooking on a stove.

The house was even lighter and brighter down here, almost as if it were built to catch the sun and scatter its light across every square foot and inch of the property. As if it were designed to chase away any chance of a darkness lurking in the corners.

Despite his predicament, Jeremy could not deny it was a nice house.

The pleasing aroma of breakfast only drew Jeremy closer, and he soon found himself at the entryway of an open plan kitchen, stretching to the right of the house. In the centre was a large island, lined with breakfast bar stools on one side. To the left was a dining table seating eight, and a set of french doors leading to a large and vibrant garden ahead.

Jeremy couldn’t make out much from his vantage point, but he could see several dog bowls laid out on the patio and another dog (a golden retriever) lounging in the grass outside in the sun.

Something about the image tugged at Jeremy’s heart, a fierce longing squeezing the muscle so tightly he felt the pulsing down to his fingertips. Sunlight caught his eye then, and Jeremy lifted a hand to shield his vision as he registered the low gentle hum coming from the only other body in the house.

His back still to Jeremy as he worked over the stovetop, stood a man, shirtless, with only a pair of grey marl sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Jeremy stepped forward, his lips parting as an unknown force pulled him inexplicably closer. The man did not look up, but Jeremy could hear the low rumble of his voice as he looked downwards mumbling something to the doberman that had passed by Jeremy a moment ago.

It now sat by the man’s feet, leaning heavily against his leg. Despite the sweetness of the sight, Jeremy’s eyes were glued to the man’s back. He had not yet turned to acknowledge Jeremy, and so he took another moment to study him.

His shoulders were big and broad. His muscles, mouth-wateringly defined under his skin, shifted as he moved.

Jeremy took another step forward.

He would recognise those shoulders anywhere.

Most startling of all, were the scars carved into the man’s skin. The same scars that always made Jeremy’s heart ache, and his fingers itch with the need to touch and sooth.

Another wave of pain crashed against his skull, and Jeremy stumbled forward to catch himself on the countertop with a gasp whilst his vision swam.

The doberman’s head snapped towards him at his movement, and Jeremy watched in horror as the man began to turn, his gaze following the dog’s.

Jeremy sucked in a breath at the sight of his face, aged and chiselled by years, but still recognisable to Jeremy in every room. His messy black hair fell elegantly in waves over his head, a few stray hairs falling into his eyes. His lips were pulled into a soft and adoring smile; his gaze so strikingly fond Jeremy felt the weight of it throughout his entire body.

And his eyes. Jeremy knew those eyes all too well. He knew the way they displayed every shift in emotion. He knew how they shined brighter under pretty lights and fireworks and how they dimmed on days when the man they belonged to felt the weight of everything he had cruelly endured in the past.

Jeremy watched, helplessly, as those same grey eyes flickered with shock as they took in the sight of him.

“Jean?” Jeremy exhaled as Jean’s widening gaze raked up and down Jeremy’s form like he was a ghost.

Jean took a step forward at the sound of his name and Jeremy moved to meet him when a wave of nausea rocked through him once more.

His vision faded as he folded in on himself, his body losing all control. He thought perhaps someone had called his name, but Jeremy’s knees were already giving out as he collapsed into nothingness.

~

When Jeremy woke next, it was to the sound of a familiar, deep voice, raspy and rough with age.

Jeremy knew that voice.

Jean’s words were muffled but rapid as he spoke in a mix of French and English somewhere in the vicinity of where Jeremy lay.

He shuffled, groaning lightly as he registered a heavy, yet warm weight settled over his stomach.

“He is passed out,” came Jean’s voice.

Something sniffled and snorted in Jeremy’s ear, moisture hitting his cheek. He winced and jerked away instinctively.

“I am not going crazy!”

Jean’s voice got louder.

“Can you just comer over here and see for yourself?”

Jeremy finally flickered his eyes open to find a golden retriever with its head resting over his stomach, blinking its own big brown eyes at him. By his head, another dog, one Jeremy had not yet seen, licked over his ear. Jeremy only stared blankly back at it until it huffed and retreated, unsatisfied with his lack of response.

The dog resting by his side sighed loudly, as if troubled by a precarious weight. At the same time, Jean exclaimed, “It is not him! He is not my…”

A frustrated noise left Jean’s mouth whilst Jeremy lifted his hand to pet at the dog's head, waiting for Jean to finish whatever cryptic conversation he was currently engaged in over the phone. He was undoubtedly talking about Jeremy, but Jeremy’s brain was so foggy he could barely make sense of Jean’s statements and his words drifted in one ear and out the other.

His body felt heavy, and sluggish where he’d been laid to rest. Licking his parched lips, Jeremy registered his head thrumming with a distant ache. Jean was still rambling angrily as he finally paced into the room. Stretching his head back for better view, Jeremy caught Jean’s eye, triggering him to snap his mouth shut, pausing with whatever he meant to say next as their gazes locked.

Jeremy swallowed, his heart skipping at the sight of Jean — older, bigger, and insatiably more attractive than he currently was, than Jeremy already knew him to be.­­­

Jean dropped the phone from his ear with a distracted, “I will call you back,” before he quickly shoved the device into his pocket and rounded the sofa.

Jeremy could only watch, dazedly, as he took a seat perched on the coffee table at the centre of the room. The golden retriever resting on Jeremy’s stomach bristled, its tail thumping against the rug and sofa as it moved closer to Jean.

Jean wrapped his arms around it, instinctively pulling the dog closer to his body, the furry beast settling in his embrace. Jeremy resisted the urge to smile as the image warmed his heart, until his gaze snagged on Jean. His storm grey eyes were searching and concerned.

Jeremy watched his lips move, heard his voice, but the words did not register having been spoken in a foreign tongue, one Jeremy was only just beginning to grasp.

When Jeremy continued to blink back at him, Jean shook his head and spoke again this time in English.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Are you okay?”

His voice was so entirely laced with concern that Jeremy felt his heart skip at the sincerity.

This was a dream. It had to be.

He lifted his hands to rub at his eyes, but when he pulled them back, the older and bigger Jean Moreau was still sitting before him.

Jeremy could only stare at his face, the familiar prominent cheek bones, the crooked set to his nose, his piercing grey eyes, and the sharp line of his jaw now covered with an impressive five o’clock shadow. He was entirely the same, yet so different.

“Is this a prank?” Jeremy finally choked out, his eyes searching Jean’s face for any indication that he had been put into make up and costume.

Jean was still shirtless which didn’t help Jeremy’s distractedness either. He refused to let his eyes drop any lower, having already caught a glimpse of Jean’s stunning chest and abs before passing out. To have him sitting this close whilst looking this good was torturous and so entirely fantastical that Jeremy could not be anything except dreaming, or the butt of an incredibly cruel joke.

“Prank?” Jean questioned.

“Like a joke? Is this a joke? Is that fake?” He pointed towards Jean’s stubble.

Jean’s brows furrowed in confusion, looking searchingly down at his chest before realising Jeremy meant a little ways north of that.

His chin dug into his neck as he tried to catch a glimpse of his own facial hair before he looked back up at Jeremy. A grin split across his face, toothy, young, and so unlike anything Jeremy had ever seen before.

It robbed him of breath, and Jean only further left him mesmerised when he chuckled cheekily, “Definitely not fake.”

He paired his words with a wink that left Jeremy feeling like he’d just fallen off an enormously high cliff.

Jean’s laugh was a low rumble in his chest, forcing Jeremy’s gaze to dart down towards it and back up to his face again, his eyes blown wide as his traitorous mind imagined what it felt like to hear it with Jean pressed against him.

The sound of it, of Jean’s laughter, was so incredibly him and yet so foreign to hear for the first time this way. Amongst inappropriate thoughts, it had Jeremy’s heart skipping inexplicably.

He flushed all over as Jean continued to smile so openly at him. He was a second away from squirming in his seat, his lips pressed together, when Jean finally cleared his throat and schooled his expression into something a little less expressive.

“Sorry, Jeremy,” Jean said, his name falling like velvet off the man’s tongue.

If Jeremy thought the way present Jean said his name had his knees feeling weak now, it was nothing compared to the way an aged Jean, with a much deeper voice, had his blood thumping hot in his veins.

Needing to save himself from any further embarrassment, Jeremy pushed himself up with a groan. His hand clutched at his head as he winced at the sharp sting of pain that pierced hot and sudden through his brain.

“Are you okay?” Jean’s fingers were hovering in Jeremy’s line of sight. His eyes once again filled with so much worry Jeremy could only turn away from it. “Is your head hurting?” asked Jean, softly, drawing his fingers back timidly.

Jeremy snorted and shook his head, sinking against the back of the couch. “You could say that.”

His eyes slipped shut again as he sighed heavily, his exhaustion drowning him. He felt as if he had been hit by a truck.

Defeatedly, he muttered to himself, “Wake up. Wake up, Jeremy. Wake up. Wake up.” Against his temples he slapped his palms with gentle force in attempt to snap himself back into reality.

Warm and calloused fingers circled his wrist where Jean gently tugged his hand back.

Jeremy flinched at the contact, but Jean was undeterred, still holding on while he considered him with a sharp gaze. “Jeremy,” he said again. “Where do you think you are?”

“I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming, right? This is a dream?” Jeremy said, panic lurking at the edges of his tone making him question himself.

Surely, none of this was real.

Jean huffed and then leant into Jeremy’s space. He was suddenly so close that Jeremy’s vision narrowed down to his stone-grey eyes. Dropping Jeremy’s wrist, his fingers skirting soothingly over Jeremy’s pulse, Jean lifted his hand to brush over Jeremy’s shoulder instead.

Jeremy’s eyes fluttered shut at the tenderness of this gesture, paired with their proximity. For one suspended moment all that Jeremy felt was the warmth radiating from the older man, at least, until Jean pinched lightly at the skin of his arm.

He yelped in surprise, his body jerking and his hand flying out to shove Jean back in the shoulder with a disgruntled scowl. “What was that for?”

Jean answered his question with a laugh, thin lines in his skin curving around his lips. “What is the phrase? Uh pinch me, I am dreaming?”

Jeremy scowled harder.

Despite the obvious signs of age, Jean looked so young and so handsome with amusement painted all over his face that Jeremy found it almost impossible to be truly annoyed at the taunting, his heart skipping of its own accord, unable to resist this older Jean’s charm. It was so foreign to Jeremy he couldn’t imagine how his future self ever fared in this Jean’s company. Maybe he had died. Maybe it had killed him and that’s why he was here now to try and re-battle the trials he’d lost to the whims of his heart.

Jeremy watched Jean cautiously until they locked eyes again. Jean continued to smile at him, the seconds stretching into minutes until the air felt heavy and tense when Jeremy could only continue to stare dumbfounded at Jean’s rugged beauty.

It was then that he finally noticed it. The unmistakable absence of the inked number three on the crest of Jean’s left cheek.

“Wait. Your tattoo,” Jeremy said, astonished, his fingers lifting as if to brush the skin under Jean’s eyes. Hand hovering frozen in the space between them, Jeremy’s wide-eyed gaze flickered from Jean’s cheek to his eyes. “It’s gone,” he swallowed. “Is it…did you…”

Jean pressed his lips together, his smile now gone. Jeremy didn’t know how he’d missed this, having grown so accustomed to seeing the dreaded mark of his time at Evermore on his face every day. If ever he had thought about Jean removing it, he’d have expected for Jean’s face to seem considerably naked without it.

But something about this Jean’s face without it seemed right. The thought of that tiny three nestled under his eye while he looked like this was was borderline unsettling.

The silence stretched between them, Jeremy’s hand dropping uselessly back to his lap. Jean’s expression became unreadable, his gaze falling away as he attempted to address Jeremy’s unspoken question.

When and how had it been removed?

Sensing the growing awkwardness in his silence, Jean eventually cleared his throat. He buried his large hand into the silky soft fur of the retriever still leaning against his legs, the gesture skittish but practiced as if born from an anxious habit. The dog did not appear to be disturbed by it and only basked in Jean’s petting. When the man eventually looked back to Jeremy, his expression was distressingly serious.

His voice deepened a fraction. “I am not sure how this has happened, but Jeremy...” he hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed nervously. Jeremy instinctively mirrored him. Finally, he concluded, “…I think— It appears that you are in the future.”

Jeremy stilled. He took a moment longer than desired to process the words. Then, a hysterical laugh bubbled up from his throat. “You’re joking,” he said.

Handsome, tattoo-less Jean smiled sadly back, his eyes pained as he shook his head.

Jeremy felt his expression drop as he registered Jean’s words again. He took in his appearance, considered the strange home that felt lived in and loved, listened to the unsettling feeling that his body knew he was where he belonged whilst his mind did not. As ridiculous as it sounded, the pieces all seemed to be falling into place in a way he could not confidently discount.

The unnerving revelation had him shooting up from the couch and stumbling across the room, his limbs buzzing in anticipation. “This is not happening. This is so not happening. The future? I’m in the future?” Jeremy choked as he threaded his hands into his hair, his breath coming in short bursts.

Jean rose to follow him, his stature making him tower over Jeremy. But Jeremy could only wave him away as he smacked a hand over his mouth in disbelief feeling as if he was going to be sick from the absurdity of the situation.

“No. No, mm. Mm no, no,” he stuttered. “I need to lie down.”

He paced around in a circle, then dropped to the floor, approaching the dog that had sniffed his face earlier to steal its place where it had since curled up on the rug to watch his exchange with Jean.

“Hey. Hey. Hi. Hello, cutie, hey,” Jeremy cooed as he stroked over the dog's head and scratched behind its ears. The dog’s tail thumped excitedly against the rug as it shuffled closer, pressing its nose to his neck and poking its tongue out to lick him in greeting. Jeremy huffed out a laugh. “Ohh, hello baby. Hi.” Reaching for its face to redirect its attention, Jeremy addressed the dog directly. “I need to lie down here, okay. Is that okay? Do you think I could do that? Yeah?” He continued to coo, nodding at the dog whilst it blinked back at him.

Finally, it pulled from his hold and rose from its place to give him room.

Jeremy fell gratefully to his hands as he crawled across the living room rug. “Oh, thank you baby,” he sighed as he manoeuvred onto his back, throwing an arm over his face as he fought to comprehend his current circumstances, and how he could have possibly ended up here.

In the future.

In Jean’s house, no less.

Clenching his eyes shut, he pressed his palms further into them to relieve the pressure on his skull. A warm weight settled over his chest then, and Jeremy peaked down to see the dog whose place he’d stolen had now settled beside him with its head on his chest. Jeremy resisted the urge to cry and hugged the furry creature closer.

At least Jean’s dogs seemed to like him.

Movement caught his eye as the Frenchman walked over to him, lowering himself to sit by Jeremy’s side too. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, staring past the room and into the distance.

Was he contemplating the absurdity of this too?

Jeremy couldn’t help himself as his eyes skirted over his face and body again. With the sunlight hitting him this way, Jeremy took a moment to drink Jean in. His skin was less pale, likely after years of living in the sun. He wondered how close they were now, if they were still friends. Jean didn’t seem too surprised to see him, more surprised at his appearance than anything. He wondered how he looked now, if his own body had filled out as impressively as Jean’s had. If he was as chiselled and masculine in build as the man before him seemed to be.

He doubted it.

The most striking thing about this Jean, however, was the relaxed set to his shoulders. Where Jeremy so often saw tension there, even now, despite their predicament, he seemed at peace. He seemed to be living a lovely and warm life here. Regret stirred in Jeremy’s chest as he was overcome with the fierce wish that Jean himself (his Jean) had been magically transported here with him to see how bright his future was.

Feeling the weight of Jeremy’s stare, Jean looked over at him.

Jeremy quickly turned away, snapping his eyes shut and throwing his arm up over them again.

Jean snorted out a soft laugh. “You have questions,” he said, reading Jeremy’s mind.

“More like a request,” Jeremy replied, his voice strained and on the verge of whining. “Please put on a shirt.”

Jean laughed louder then, and Jeremy instantly thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Peaking out from under his arm, he couldn’t resist catching a glimpse of Jean’s open and joyful expression. Jeremy was so unused to seeing such a thing he felt greedy and desperate to not miss a single instance of it. He wondered distantly what it would take to make his Jean, the Jean from his time, laugh this way.

His eyes slipped shut again at the thought, conjuring silly scenarios in which he was able to draw happy sounds from his friend. Distantly, he listened as Jean left the room, shuffling around the house to hopefully retrieve a shirt.

In his absence Jeremy tried to piece together where he was. He tried desperately to recall the night before, but every time he did it felt like hitting a brick wall. A dead end that he kept expecting to lead somewhere but just didn’t.

Behind his closed eyes he saw bright coloured lights, heard the chatter of a crowd and the jingle of fair ground music. There’d been one in town, they’d gone together as a team. Jeremy winced as pain shot through his skull. He saw purple draping, smelt the burning of incense, and heard the tinkling of chimes. He felt like he was just on the edge of remembering something crucial when he was drawn away by the gentle tap of something against his forehead.

Jeremy forced his eyes open to find Jean seated beside him again, a glass of water in one hand and a packet of pills in the other. The packet he’d used to gather Jeremy’s attention, and he held it up in offering now with raised brows as he looked down at Jeremy. With a groan, Jeremy pushed himself to sitting. Jean handed over the glass and painkillers and Jeremy fought back a shiver when their fingers brushed. A feat that was made only that much more difficult when Jean’s warm and solid palm landed on the centre of Jeremy’s back, holding him steady.

Jeremy gulped down the water with shaky hands as he swallowed down the painkillers. He lowered the glass slowly, wiping the excess water from his lips and trying not to implode under Jean’s heavy gaze boring into the side of his face. Despite the coolness of the water, Jeremy felt hot all over. Attempting to create some distance, he pushed the glass towards Jean’s chest, now clad in a navy-blue compression shirt which left nothing to the imagination.

How he’d thought this was an improvement from being shirtless, Jeremy did not know. He looked briefly towards Jean’s face for any hint that he knew just how bad he was making Jeremy feel like his insides were melting.

Jeremy only found his same nervousness reflecting back at him, though likely for different reason.

He inhaled heavily and looked away. “How did I get here?” he asked shakily.

Jean shrugged, stretching back to set the glass down out of harm’s way. “I was hoping you would be able to tell me that.”

A deep sigh left Jeremy’s lips as he curled over the dog still resting in his lap. He hugged it tight, his heart thumping in his chest. The dog eventually grew uncomfortable and squirmed in his hold until Jeremy loosened his arms for it to shuffle away. Jeremy groaned at the loss, his brain feeling like it was being squeezed inside his skull. He collapsed back against the rug with a dull thud.

Jean shuffled closer, and Jeremy caught a glimpse of concern on his face before he closed his eyes to it.

“I don’t remember anything,” Jeremy sighed. “I mean, there are, flashes, but…” he waved his hands in the air, as if brushing away his words as useless.

None of anything he’d remembered seemed to matter anyway. How could be possibly determine what led to him being here, in this strange moment in time in another’s future?

He bolted up a second later as a sudden thought washed over him. “Wait.” He looked to Jean with his eyes wide. “How far into the future am I? Am-Are we still friends? Is that why I’m here?” he asked, inching forward desperately. Some pressing part of him feeling like his relationship with the man before him was the reason this was happening. “Is that why you have so many dogs?”

Jean bit his lip and looked away. Jeremy didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered back and forth skittishly, a slight flush blossoming on his cheeks. “You can say that,” he muttered.

Jeremy threw his hands into the air, “Oh, I see. Can’t tell me anything in case I change things.” With a roll of his eyes, he mumbled, “Great.”

Chuckling under his breath, Jean shook his head. He had shifted, his elbows resting on his bent knees again as he fiddled with the cuffed hems of his sweatpants. “I am not so sure I can hide anything with you here of all places.”

Jeremy frowned. “What does—”

Jean was saved from further questioning when the front door burst open, a familiar female voice carrying from down the hall.

“Jean, where are you?” a woman called. Jeremy heard the shuffling of feet as the new guest entered the house. “Jean?” she called. Her voice grew louder as she moved closer and Jeremy scrambled to his feet in nervous apprehension.

He knew that voice. Knew it better than any other.

Jean stayed seated, his head hanging between his shoulders whilst Jeremy’s heart thundered louder and louder like the drums of war. Its frantic beating stopped only when the woman finally came into view.

Laila Dermott stood before him, undeniably aged. She was as beautiful as he knew her to be, but definitely older. Jeremy had barely a second to take in her appearance when Cat stumbled to a stop behind her. She too had aged, her hair shorter and face slightly fuller, but just as sweet.

Both women stared wide eyed at Jeremy whilst Jeremy stared back.

Everybody in the room seemed to hold their breath. Until Cat screeched, “You’re just a baby! Oh my god!”

Jeremy stumbled backwards, whilst Laila winced at the volume of her girlfriend’s voice in her ear. Cat pushed past her, hands outstretched as she reached for Jeremy’s face. One moment she was stood before him, and the next his cheeks were squished between her palms.

“Laila, babe.” Her head whipped to Laila, then back around to Jeremy as she cooed. “Look at him. He’s twenty again.” Her eyes shined as her face scrunched with adoration.

Jeremy bristled, pulling out of her hold and shuffling back. “I’m twenty-two!”

His lack of enthusiasm had Cat dropping her hands with a pout. A gentle tap on her shoulder had her moving to the side as Laila came closer. Jeremy had not a clue which of them to focus on, his eyes skittering from one woman to the other. He was struck by the feeling that they were so much bigger than he was, not in size, but their presence, their aura. They were so much more lived in, matured, and grown up.

Laila’s searching gaze raked over Jeremy’s face and Jeremy’s heart clenched in his chest. He blinked back against the prickling in his eyes, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to reach for her comfort in the moment, only to be struck by the reality that she was not his Laila, she was future Jeremy’s Laila.

How many memories and trials and existed between them from Jeremy’s time until now?

Laila’s next words were not meant for him, though she kept her piercing stare on Jeremy. Not that Jeremy would understand them anyway. Whatever Laila had to say, it was not in English. But Jeremy recognised the language from countless times he’d heard her speak on the phone to her uncle.

What shocked Jeremy most, was the ease with which Jean responded to her from where he’d risen off the floor and now stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Jeremy’s eyes widened, almost bulging out of his head as the two of them conversed in quick Arabic.

He opened his mouth, finger raised to point accusingly at Jean when Cat’s finger poked into his cheek instead.

When Jeremy did not rise to her bait, she poked him in the arm. “You’re so tiny,” she giggled. Jeremy turned a scowl on her, contrasting almost comically with the manic glee on her face. She only smiled wider at his obvious annoyance. “Oh boy, this is so great. Does he know?” she asked Jean with a menacing grin over her shoulder. Pausing in their quick back and forth, Laila and Jean snapped their attention to her and Cat shook her head, rising her hands apologetically. “Sorry, we’re doing the whole secretive thing.” Her next question was again directed at Jean, and once again Jeremy felt like he’d just taken a punch to the gut as Cat’s words spilled out in Spanish.

Whatever she’d said, Jean clearly understood this too as he tossed his hands in the air in annoyance and declared in English, “I hardly think I’ll be able to hide anything from him with him here.”

He gestured frustratedly to the house, and Jeremy snapped his mouth shut, feeling something strange stir in his gut at what Jean could possibly mean by that.

He flinched when Cat reached out to tweak his hair fondly. “True,” she said distractedly, twirling more strands of his unruly hair around her finger. Wistfully, she continued, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen the blond.”

Jeremy frowned, growing more agitated and confused by the second at what was being kept from him and Cat’s obvious attempts to distract him from it.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Cat only smiled back. “Remind me to tell our Jere to dye it back again,” she said offhandedly over her shoulder to Laila. “Looks good,” she winked at Jeremy, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Uh, thanks,” Jeremy replied, wrapping his own arms around himself, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Laila turned back to Jeremy commanding his attention, her arms also folded over her chest, her head tipped to the side questioningly. “So, uh, what are you doing here? And where is our Jeremy?”

Jean rubbed a hand over his face tiredly and answered in French. All three of their faces shifted into worry. Since when did they all speak each other’s languages? Did Jeremy know any? Why were they communicating secretively without him?

“I thought maybe he had regressed? De-aged?” Jean continued, switching back to English for Jeremy’s sake. “But he thinks this is a dream.” He waved his palm in the air in frustrated circles. “He is from his time. He is from…the past.”

Cat stared at him as if he was an alien. Whereas Laila stared through him, as if he was a problem to solve.

Jeremy bristled, fed up with feeling excluded. “Why are you assuming future me isn’t here? Have you called him? Called me?” Jeremy asked, looking around the room.

All three of them promptly avoided his gaze at this, instead exchanging nervous looks with one another. Jean, in particular, seemed to grow restless where he stood.

“What?” Jeremy asked.

“Uh, Jere,” Cat began. She looked apprehensively towards Laila and Jean, as if seeking their approval, but their gazes remained fixed on the floor. Sighing heavily, she continued pointedly. “This is your house. If you’d be anywhere, it’s here.”

“Oh.” Jeremy blanked at this, his brain struggling to comprehend. “But Jean…so you’re staying here with me?” Jeremy asked him.

Jean visibly flushed and looked away as Cat snorted mockingly. “He really hasn’t noticed?” Laila asked Jean.

Jean only shook his head, his eyes slipping shut as he covered his mouth with his palm.

“Noticed what?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“How does he not know?” Cat asked incredulously, making Jeremy feel stupid as she looked around the room like the answer was spelled out right in front of him.

“Know what?” Jeremy asked, his tone becoming more pressing as he lost his patience.

Laila clapped her hands together to deter him and said, “Okay. So, you’ve switched places? Our Jeremy and past Jeremy?” She turned back to Jean, “Jean, did he say anything last night? Do anything out of the ordinary?”

Jeremy and the girls looked to him questioningly. Jean’s eyes flickered to Jeremy and then away as he cleared his throat and answered, “No. Everything was normal.” He gestured again with his open palm, though his cheeks blossomed red.

“Okay, and you?” Laila said, turning back to Jeremy. “Anything weird? Out of the ordinary? What was the last thing you remember?”

Jeremy huffed and pressed a hand to his head. “Uh, we, I was out. With all of you, and the team. There was a fair in town.” Jeremy began to pace back and forth as he tried to recall the previous night’s events. “We went to a couple of booths, ate some food, I think. I don’t know. I…I went home after and I…”

A wave of dizziness overcame him, and he swayed where he stood until he felt the solid press of a body at his side. Jean placed a steadying hand on his back as he guided him back towards the couch. How he’d gotten across the room so quickly Jeremy didn’t know, but he allowed himself to be led and sank back against the thick cushions whilst Jean took a seat on the coffee table again.

“I don’t remember anything else, I’m sorry.” Jeremy continued, tiredly. “I think I had a bit of a headache before I went to bed, but other than that it was a normal day.”

He rubbed over his brow with his thumb and forefinger. Cat came to stand by Jean’s side, her hands resting over Jean’s shoulders, soothing over them comfortingly. Jean looked worried, more than he had so a few moments ago, his palms rubbing over each other anxiously. Jeremy didn’t know why he seemed so upset and concerned, and he didn’t know what to do with the way it made him feel inside. He watched as Cat leant into Jean’s space, murmuring something in Spanish into the top of his head. He only nodded in return and covered her hand with his own.

Jeremy couldn’t stomach the exchange, and he bolted to his feet with a stuttered, “B-bathroom? I need to pee.”

Laila was still stood across the room, her chin resting in her hand as she thought this ridiculousness through. She gestured vaguely to the rest of the house. “Down the hall to the right.”

Jeremy nodded his thanks where she could not see and quickly stumbled from the couch and out of the living room. He pressed a hand to his stomach and took measured breaths. Inhaling deeply through his mouth and exhaling through his nose, Jeremy wondered slowly down the hall. He found himself back in the kitchen, once again noting the way it was entirely lit by sunlight streaming in through the large windows.

The counters were wooden and the cupboards all a beautiful shade of light green. There were hanging pots and pants and utensils over the centre island, so thoroughly equipped for someone who loved to cook. Jeremy snorted softly. Most of this must be for show, he thought, if this was truly his house. He was certain the girls and Jean made far more use of it than he ever did. Jeremy wondered curiously what would have possessed him to choose such a kitchen for his home. He’d have much rather invested in a home gym or a king-sized bed. Possibly even a home sauna.

A kitchen this stunning and useable would have been the last on his list and entirely wasted on him.

Brushing his questions aside (knowing they likely would not be answered) Jeremy managed to finally locate the bathroom and he quickly sidled in and locked the door behind him. The bathroom was as beautiful as the rest of the house and Jeremy studied the countertop with curiosity. Both ends were lined with various products, some of which Jeremy recognised though most he did not. He laughed at himself, a creature of habit, still using the same products even years later. Though he was quick to furrow his brow at the other side. These things he did not recognise though they looked used.

Had he left them out for his house guests? He wondered briefly if he ever had people over to stay outside of his friends. Did he have a boyfriend?

Jeremy quickly shook his head, believing this to be impossible. Evidently, he did not if Jean was staying over. Though it wasn’t like Jeremy to share his bed with a hookup anyway, and maybe that hadn’t changed even after all these years. Maybe Jeremy had become accustomed to kicking them out before anyone staying with him would notice. Or maybe he never brought them home in the first place.

The thought of bringing home some stranger, that wanted nothing more from him than his body, to a place this warm and inviting made him feel ill.

He rubbed at the uneasy feeling in his stomach and shook himself. He had bigger problems to worry about than the obvious lack of romantic love in his life, even in the future. Even if it did leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He truly was in the future then.

If he thought on it hard enough, he’d guess anywhere between five to ten years. His friends would have to let him know sooner rather than later. They’d need all the help they could get trying to piece together whatever had happened and why it was happening.

Because there had to be a reason Jeremy was here. At this specific time and in this specific place. It couldn’t just be an accident. Was he being forced to learn some kind of lesson? Instead of the ghost of his future’s past coming to visit him, was he being forcibly thrust into it?

Jeremy groaned tiredly as he rubbed over his face, wincing at how dreadfully slumped his reflection looked. He made quick work of relieving himself and washing over his face to liven his haggard complexion before finally exiting the bathroom lest his friends come looking for him.

Feeling marginally refreshed, Jeremy made his way back down the hall. Now that his mind was less occupied with breathing, he was able to take in the walls plastered with a vast array of photo frames, all of different shapes and sizes. Jeremy paused. If his friends did not want to give him any answers about his life, he’d simply have to find some for himself.

Jeremy looked down the hall.

He could make out the muffled sounds of Jean, Cat, and Laila deep in discussion. Determining it to be safe and finally letting his curiosity get the better of him, he looked towards the pictures closest to him hung on the wall of the hallway.

His initially narrowed gaze slowly softened the more he took in. His mouth stretched into a smile as he recognised several of the faces. His heart warmed at the display. He’d never been allowed to hang photos of his friends in his room back home and had always wished for the days he’d have his own freedom to do so. He was proud of himself for taking advantage of this now that he did.

Interestingly so there were no pictures of his family, and he swallowed back his guilt at this. He didn’t think he had the mental space to wonder what had become of his relationship with them. If the lack of photos were any indication, it couldn’t be good.

As his gaze drifted, he found many pictures of himself and Jean, Cat, Laila, so many of their teammates, Coach Rhemann and Adi. Hell, even several of Kevin and his Foxes had made the cut too. Some faces, Jeremy did not recognise, and he could only guess they were people he’d met and befriended over the years.

Slowly, he drifted down the hall taking in all the different people. Caught in the display of memories, and noting Jean’s lack of a tattoo in several of them, Jeremy comically froze in his tracks at the next picture that snagged his attention. This section of the wall seemed to be full of pictures of himself and Jean. In each one, they were pressed so close; arms thrown over shoulders and wound around waists, lips pressed to cheeks and heads tipped together.

Jeremy’s heart stopped when he caught sight of a specific set of several pictures of the two of them dressed in coordinating suits. In the centre was one of them practically tangled in each other’s arms as they kissed rather passionately at an alter.

Jeremy’s throat tightened as all the air rushed from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

He choked out a panicked noise from the back of his throat, his frantic gaze skittering over more of the photos. He didn’t know how he’d missed them. So, so many of them. Of him and Jean. Together. They were endless.

As he stood dumbfounded, his eyes caught onto one photograph in particular. At the same instance, Laila’s voice called him from down the hall.

“Jere?”

Jeremy shook his head absently, as he stepped closer to the picture, his hands coming to rest lightly on the wall beside it.

It was a picture of himself and Jean. Younger. Much closer to their current ages. Jeremy’s hair was still blond at the tips, though his roots were much more prominent than they currently were. It was dark, wherever they were in the picture. Some kind of club perhaps? The most likely setting, judging by the dark leather seating beneath them and the strobe lights blurred in the background. Both their cheeks were flushed with red, Jeremy’s eyes bright and alive as he grinned at the camera. He was seated on Jean’s lap. Leaning into him. Jean’s arms were wrapped tight around his waist, almost possessively.

For a single moment Jeremy felt as if he could feel the ghost of their weight around him.

Not much of Jean’s face was visible as it was half buried into the space between Jeremy’s shoulder and neck. His eyes seemed to shine as brightly as Jeremy’s, his cheeks lifted slightly, as if he was hiding a smile into Jeremy’s skin. Jeremy’s head was tipped back and to the side, resting against Jean’s.

The both of them looked so entirely happy and in love. And an all too familiar longing shivered through Jeremy’s bones.

His heart clenched, the tightness of the muscle rushing through his entire body down to his toes and fingertips. He shuddered as he exhaled a shaky breath, tears now prickling in his eyes.

“Laila,” he choked out, as she came to a stop by his side. “What is this?”

Jeremy turned his panicked stare to her. Her eyes were soft, drifting back and forth between his face and the pictures on the wall, her hands raised in a placating gesture as if she expected Jeremy to explode.

Jeremy only felt faint.

Laila too, was at a loss for words. “Urm. Jeremy…”

 “It is our life,” Jean concluded, now having arrived in the hallway, his jaw hardened.

“Our?” Jeremy replied weekly.

He could hardly look at Jean after seeing his expression in that picture and the undeniable comfortability that existed between them, captured so breathtakingly in every other photograph.

Cat appeared then too, and Jeremy felt his vision blurring as they all studied him with apprehension and sadness. They all nodded their heads together at his bafflement.

“It’s true,” Laila breathed.

“Guess you’re not together yet then,” Cat said with a wince.

Turning away from them all, Jeremy felt overcome with queasiness and instability, the same as he’d felt when he’d first stumbled down from the bedroom, their bedroom, earlier that morning to find Jean in the kitchen. Their kitchen.

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening,” Jeremy muttered frantically.

Inside his body his nerve endings fluttered uncomfortably. He couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. He clenched his eyes shut and used the wall to guide himself back towards the kitchen, desperately seeking air for his tightening lungs. Behind his eyelids all he saw was that one picture of himself in Jean’s lap. Himself as he looked now.

His body shook with the force of how badly he wanted it and how much he hated himself for wanting it. He crumbled under the weight of how cruel it was to have to see it, laid out before him, as if it was all just in reach.

Whatever game he was stuck in was proving to be crueller and more twisted by the second.

Jeremy felt faint, his knees weakening with every step he took away from the impossible truth. Jean was there in an instant, his warm hands settling over Jeremy’s waist as he guided him to sit at the dining table. Jeremy pressed his lips together, forcing back an agonised whine.

Did Jean’s hands feel this warm wrapped around him in that picture too? At what point in time did (or would) that happen?

Jeremy shuddered as he collapsed onto the wooden chair, its legs creaking over the kitchen floor under his sudden weight. He pressed his hands flat against the tabletop and sucked in quick, sharp breaths.

His chest felt tight, and he forced himself to look over at Jean where he was crouched by his side. A disbelieving laugh bubbled from his lips, “You’re—"

He’d been ready to accuse Jean of playing a twisted prank on him again, felt for certain it was just a sadistic joke, but the look on Jean’s face had him snapping his mouth shut and swallowing back his denial. He gulped harshly and instead said, “You’re serious? We’re...” Forcing back the bile rising in his throat, his gaze skittered to Jean’s hand also resting on the tabletop where he’d braced himself. Around his finger was a shiny golden band, glistening where it caught the sun. “We’re married.”

Jean nodded, his jaw clenched tight again as he blinked rapidly. He looked almost close to tears too and Jeremy hated the way it made his stomach lurch unpleasantly.

He looked up to where Cat and Laila now stood behind Jean. They attempted weak smiles of reassurance that Jeremy could not return.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered.

The table creaked, jerking back across the floor and under Jeremy’s hold where Jean violent flinched. In an instant he had stumbled to his feet and bolted from the room.

Panic flooded Jeremy, and he turned in his seat, scrambling to reach for Jean before he could leave. “No, no, Jean I—"

But Jean was too quick for him, disappearing down the hall in an instant.

Jeremy meant to finish his sentence, but nausea rolled through him, and he smacked a hand over his mouth. He convulsed, folding over on himself. Laila crouched down by his side, pressing a hand to his back whilst Cat turned to flee the room after Jean.

Jeremy shook his head as he forced back the rising bile in his throat, now back in full force as his mouth pooled with saliva. He was going to throw up. Something was wrong and he couldn’t hold it back.

Cat had only made it a step away from them when Jean barrelled past her in the next second. Laila was knocked aside as Jean slid to the floor. A bucket was thrust in front of Jeremy just as his stomach lurched and he violently retched into it. His throat burned and his eyes watered with the force of his vomiting. He coughed weakly and clutched tightly to the bucket with one hand the other latched tightly over Jean’s wrist.

An awful tanginess filled his mouth, and Jeremy felt another wave of sickness wash over him before his stomach forcefully emptied itself again. The only comfort to be found was the hand stroking soothingly over the back of his neck. Jean’s deep voice mumbled gentle words close to his ear in a language Jeremy couldn’t fully understand yet.

He tried to speak, tears leaking freely down his face, but no words came out, held hostage by his tightening throat and the threat of more vomit.

A heated flush pulsed out from his body, his pores sweating profusely. He nudged weakly at Jean’s wrist, urging him to get away from the sickening smell and fumes. But Jean did not budge under Jeremy’s feeble strength. He simply pressed closer instead, a hand coming to brush the hairs away from his face.

Jeremy had only a second to huff out his slurred disapproval before his eyes rolled back and he slumped forward, out of his seat and into Jean’s arms.

~

Jeremy inhaled the thick smoke of incense and resisted the urge to choke. The smell was lovely, but the heaviness of multiple incense sticks lit at the same time left something to be desired.

Surely, this was overkill. 

Some part of his brain knew he was dreaming. But it was startling how real everything felt. Like an intense case of deja vu that left him feeling off kilter. 

He was dreaming, he knew this. But this was a memory too. 

Someone was holding his hands, palms up, over a table. Jeremy tried to open his eyes, but they felt glued shut, unresisting against his poor attempts. He tried to move, tried to pull free, but the person's grip only tightened. The fortune teller's hands (for that's who Jeremy remembered it was) were warm and soft but lined with age. 

"What is this?" Jeremy asked the strange woman. "Why can't I move?" 

"You can. If you want to." 

Jeremy tried. A feeble attempt.

"I don't understand." 

"Not yet, no. But you will." 

"What does that mean?" 

"You are an obstacle. An obstacle for your own desires."

"I don't understand."

"You can have everything you want, Jeremy. If only you're willing to make the right choice."

Jeremy opened his mouth to respond, but the air was punched from his lungs as the woman released his hands, and his body went careening out of the chair and backwards into the dark. 

Jeremy woke with a start, bolting upwards in the bed he'd been laid to rest. The room was dark, cast only in the faint glow of a bedside lamp. Jeremy looked towards the light. A glass of water sat beside it, and he reached for it eagerly, downing it quickly to quench his thirst and rid himself of the bitter taste lingering at the back of his throat. When it was emptied, he slumped back against the headboard rubbing the gooey residue from his eyes until his vision finally focused. 

It took a moment for the events of the day to catch up to him, and Jeremy felt his disappointment sink heavy in his chest when he realised, he was again in an unfamiliar room. As enthralled as he'd been by the sight of a ruggedly handsome aged Jean, he had hoped it had just been an absurd dream. The room he'd been placed in this time was not the same one he'd initially woken up in and judging by its simplicity, Jeremy could only guess it was a guest room in what he now knew to be his house.

His and Jean's. 

In the quiet of the room, he stared unseeing at the door across from the bed left slightly ajar as his brain ran through the impossibility of his current predicament. It was then that his dream, his memories, came flashing back, shooting a searing pain through his skull as they played out behind his clenched shut eyes. 

Jeremy gasped and doubled over, curling in over himself and gritting his teeth against the pain. He saw the fair ground and the mystically decorated tent that Cody had dragged him into. He saw the lines of a woman's face, the fortune teller, and the strange symbol she wore about her neck. Her words were a jumbled mess on the edge of his memory, but more absolute were her perusing eyes as she stared at him like she knew every haunting detail about him. 

Jeremy groaned as his head throbbed, remembering her strange and unnerving smile as she offered him a piece of candy when he and Cody finally left the tent. Jeremy had accepted it, if only to redeem the guilt he'd felt at his unenthusiastic and disbelieving response to the so-called future she'd seen for him. 

In flashes, he saw himself stuff the sweet into his pocket as he and Cody linked back with their friends. Saw himself later reach into that same pocket for his car his keys only to remember the candy and hastily unwrap and shove it into his mouth as he settled in his car for the drive back home. 

Had she done this to him? Was this some witchy psychic magic at play? Was that why these particular memories were taunting him now?

Jeremy shook his head and exhaled, the pain in his head suddenly receding as quickly as it came. Frantically, he pushed down the covers pooled around his waist and kicked them away until he could dig his hand into his shorts pocket in search of the empty wrapper. He'd been so tired when he'd gotten home, he'd hardly had the strength to change out of his clothes before he’d slumped into bed. 

"Yes!" he breathed in relief as pulled it out, turning it over in his fingers.

It was purple, like the draping that hung in the tent. Printed on the outer packaging was a strange symbol, the same strange symbol Jeremy remembered hanging around the fortune teller woman's neck. 

A calling card, perhaps? 

With renewed urgency he scrambled off the bed, cursing lightly as his feet tangled in the sheets causing him to stumble into the bed frame at the end, whilst fighting to get to the door. 

Once freed of the sheets, he paced across the hall and down the stairs. His body moving through the house like muscle memory had him pausing as he reached the landing opposite the front door. A strange sense of deja vu washed over him again and he shook himself to regain composure. 

He wondered how many times he'd run up and down these stairs and then quickly rid himself of the thought. This wasn't his home, it was future Jeremy's home. Or well, a version of him that supposedly existed. 

He still wasn't entirely sure if he believed it. 

Jeremy ignored the familiar pull in his chest and turned towards where he could sense other bodies in the house. His friends, his grown-up friends, seemed to have gathered in the kitchen. Jeremy guessed it was late in the evening, if the smell of dinner and the sound of quiet conversation floating down the hall were anything to go by. 

He meant to go sweeping in with the revelation of his memories when his brain registered the words his ears were hearing. 

"Should we report him missing?" Cat asked, concernedly.

A sharp intake of breath, akin to a hiss, was the only answer. 

"I don't see what else we can do! He's gone."

Jean's voice was loud when he shot back, "He's not. He's not gone he's just not here and you talking as if—"

Jeremy swallowed as Jean cut himself off with a frustrated huff, followed by quiet muttering in fast angry French.

It was quiet as Jeremy held his breath, wondering if he should creep back into the guest bedroom until they came to check on him instead. Maybe he could force his way back to sleep and stay sleeping until he returned to his time. Sleep seemed to have brought him here, perhaps it could take him back. 

"We know you're worried, Jean," Laila spoke softly, fighting against Jean's obvious upset. "But it's not going to help anything right now. We need an active solution. We need to find—" 

Jeremy jumped in his skin when chair legs abruptly scraped over the floor, Jean likely having risen agitatedly from his seat. "Him. We need to find him. I won't lose him. Not like this. He could be. He could be anywhere. What if he doesn't—"

Jean's voice had taken on a panicked edge now and Jeremy felt something in him break at the sound of it. It was identical to the panic that usually laced his voice when Jeremy sensed he was on the verge of breaking. A building panic he always tried so hard to hide. 

The helplessness at being unable to help him was just as debilitating now as it felt in Jeremy's present. He was hit with a sudden wave of longing, missing his Jean, his friends as he knew them to be.

"Stop that." Cat cut in "He'll come back. And that Jeremy up there is still your Jeremy, you know."

Jeremy's heart rattled in his chest at being referred to this way, his knees suddenly weakening. Unbidden his eyes went to the display of pictures on the wall to his right, locking in on that same picture of himself in Jean's lap that had sent him spiralling. 

Jeremy swallowed as Cat continued to speak soothingly. 

"It's the same Jeremy, okay? The same Jeremy who grows into your Jeremy. The same Jeremy who loves you, and the same Jeremy you fell in love with. He's probably scared and confused. He needs you too. We'll figure this out, Jean. We'll get him back." 

"I know. I'm not denying him. I love him but he doesn't....this will mess—" 

Jeremy took a deep breath, unable to handle any more of this, and barrelled into the room. 

"I remembered something," he announced rather sheepishly, feeling himself flush with anxiousness as they all turned to look at him. 

Laila was seated on a stool at one side of the island counter. 

Jean was leaning over the opposite side with both hands curled over the counter. Cat stood beside him; a comforting hand pressed to his shoulder. Jean's stare bore into Jeremy, and he looked almost startled again at his appearance before he fixed his expression into something less revealing. Cat and Laila's eyes were softer but also surprised at Jeremy’s sudden appearance. 

"What is it?" asked Laila. 

The wrapper crinkled in Jeremy's hands as he attempted to straighten it out after having crumpled it into his fist in his haste to get to them. 

"There was a fortune teller, a psychic," he began with a shake of his head. "At the fair. She-she uh read mine and Cody's fortune, I guess?" Jeremy's gazed drifted between each of their confused expressions, his theory feeling more ridiculous by the minute. He shrugged, and continued, "I just had a dream about her. Well, it was a memory. A flashback? Anyway, I remember taking this candy from her after. I ate it on the drive home and I thought maybe..." he shrugged again as he handed it over to Laila who'd stepped closer as he'd spoken. 

She took the wrapper from his hands and studied it, turning it over and frowning at the strange symbol. "What did she tell you?" 

Jeremy felt a pulse of pain in his head, scrunching his face up in annoyance as he shook it away. "I don't remember,” he said defeatedly. "I'm sorry, I wish I did but...the words are lost on me. From the memory. They slip away every time I try to...all I remember is her wearing a necklace with that same symbol," he pointed at the wrapper in her hand. "And that she was looking at me strangely, like she knew things I didn't." 

Jean had pushed up from the counter now, rounding the island to come closer to Jeremy. Jeremy gave him a faint polite smile before averting his eyes. He was still dressed in that inappropriately tight midnight blue compression shirt, and Jeremy could feel his mouth drying from the way the material pulled over his biceps where he'd once again crossed his arms over his chest.

Surely, he had some semblance of an idea of the effect he was having on Jeremy while looking this hot and appealing, right? Surely, he knew by now that Jeremy was attracted to him like a starved animal and that his constraint to mask it suffered daily.

The thought was quickly followed by several inappropriate questions that Jeremy was not sure he wanted the answers to. Did Jean know just how much of an appetite Jeremy could have when it came to sex? Did he know that Jeremy's brain short circuited just at the thought of his hands on Jeremy's body? Had Jeremy confessed how many times he'd had to take matters into his own hands? 

Jean stepped closer then, and Jeremy found himself bolting across the kitchen to park himself on Laila's other side where she’d settled to study the wrinkled candy wrapper. With burning cheeks, he gripped the countertop and dropped his chin to his chest hoping his hair would disguise his flush. 

Now is not the time Jeremy, he grumbled to himself forcing away the stirring in his stomach and the obscene fantasies flashing through his mind. God, the sex must be—

"So, you said she was with a fair? In town? By the campus?" Laila asked, pulling Jeremy from his inappropriate thoughts. Jeremy pressed his lips together and nodded, still feeling the weight of Jean's gaze from across the room and not trusting himself to speak. 

From the corner of his eye, Jeremy noted the man slowly drift back across the kitchen, further away from them. He blew out a relieved breath as Jean's back was turned, though the view of those broad shoulders and slim waist did little to temper Jeremy's rising fever. 

"What year was that?" Laila asked thoughtfully as she stared up at the hanging pots and pans, trying to calculate. 

"2008." 

“Do you think maybe she was local? Maybe she could still be around? Here? In California?” Laila looked at Jeremy questioningly whilst he stared back blankly, shrugging his shoulders uselessly.

Cat slapped her hands together. "Jean, where is your laptop? I propose we google search the hell out of psychics and mediums in the area. Maybe we might be able to find her. Or this symbol?" 

Laila hummed thoughtfully as Jean turned back to them, now with a glass of water in his hand and a frown on his face. 

"It's a start, I guess. What do you think?" Laila asked Jean.

Jean nodded once, his jaw hardened. "We should try whatever we can." To Cat, he said, "My laptop is in the office." She promptly spun on her feet and waltzed out the room to fetch it. 

They had an office? 

Jeremy hadn't realised Jean was headed his way again resulting in him flinching as Jean set the water down by his hand. Jeremy caught his eye and flushed further in embarrassment when Jean only pouted back (an expression that was achingly cute on his face), his brows furrowing as he stepped away again, seemingly keeping his distance. He looked down at Jeremy with concern and asked quietly, "Are you feeling okay? Would you like something to eat? You must be hungry." 

Jeremy's traitorous stomach rumbled enthusiastically in response. He slapped a hand to it in a panic. "Urm..." Frantically he reached for the glass Jean had set down and downed the water with a shaky hand. 

"Slowly," Jean urged quietly in French. Or at least Jeremy thought he did, having basic understanding of simple words by now. More embarrassing was the way he was unable to help himself as his body reacted to the command, instantly slowing down as he drank. 

Carefully, Jeremy lowered the glass, clearing his throat and nodding, "Actually, yeah," he replied, feigning normalcy. "Food would be nice." Jeremy would accept anything to get sexy older Jean away from him right now so he could breathe a little easier.

Jean smiled softly, beautifully, and then turned to fix him plate. With his back turned again he began to rattle off what he'd made for dinner. Jeremy simply nodded along, making the mistake of catching Laila's eye as he blew out a breath. She'd evidently caught the awkward exchange, and he glared at the knowing smirk and rise of her eyebrows. Laila was unperturbed by Jeremy’s hostility and only shook her head as she went back to the candy wrapper. 

Jeremy, feeling defeated and hit by another wave of exhaustion, manoeuvred slowly onto the stool beside her. He rested his head on her warm shoulder, as he had done multiple times, suddenly in need of his best friend's comfort. Laila seemed to notice this, her palm cupping the side of his face, patting his cheek soothingly.

Jeremy sighed and let his eyes slip shut for a moment basking in Laila's familiar scent and warmth. Not for the first time, he missed his friends so deeply. The version of them that he knew, but he was comforted by the knowledge that even years down the line their love stood just as strong.

Cat returned minutes later, laptop already opened in her arm. She settled down by Laila's other side and began her google search of psychics within the area. Jeremy's stomach gave another fierce grumble just as Jean set a plate of food down before him. He smiled encouragingly at Jeremy, quickly refilling his glass with more water. Jeremy mumbled his thanks again, reluctantly sitting up as Jean moved to Cat's side. 

Together the three of them attempted to get to the bottom of whatever was happening as Jeremy settled down to eat in tired silence beside them.

~

It was nearing midnight when Jeremy looked up at the clock on the mantle where he'd been admiring more pictures of himself and Jean. He couldn’t believe he’d missed them earlier, and now that Jeremy thought about it the house was covered in photos.

Jeremy had always felt like he could see the mask in every picture that existed of himself, like he could see past the false pretence of his happiness and right through to the sadness that lingered in his eyes. But the pictures that lined the walls and furnishings of this house were different. In all of these, Jeremy looked undeniably happy and content. 

No mask. No hiding. 

One picture in particular had held his attention longer than the others, his eyes drawn back to it now. Jeremy was dressed in a team USA Exy uniform, sweaty and red cheeked, a gold medal around his neck that he held up proudly towards the camera. Jean was stood behind him, arms wrapped around Jeremy's chest and waist as he hugged him tight, his smile wild, bright and hungry. Hungry with pride and satisfaction as if it was he who wore the medal around his neck.

 Jeremy remembered the way Jean had complimented his Exy skills when he’d still been settling in in California. The unwavering satisfaction in his tone as he told Jeremy he was very good. He remembered the way it had warmed his insides, making him feel fuzzy and enlivened. It seems Jean’s pride in Jeremy’s talents had only grown over the years.

Jean was, in contrast, dressed in ordinary clothes in the photo, no medal around his neck. Jeremy had a million and one questions. 

He turned to look at the man now, seated at the dining table in the space across from the living room where he, Cat and Laila had settled in for the night. Jeremy was currently curled in a loveseat, a blanket wrapped around him, whilst Cat and Laila were curled up together on the couch opposite him. 

Jean was still trying in earnest to search for this mysterious fortune teller on the internet, determined to not give up after yielding no results all evening. 

Jeremy studied him, his eyes drawn to his fist moving back and forth over his mouth as he stared with unrelenting focus at the screen before him. Absently, Jean smoothed the gold band of his wedding ring over his bottom lip. 

Jeremy wasn't sure how to feel about this Jean trying so hard to find him. To find his older self. He wondered what he could possibly have done to deserve this kind of devotion from him. Because that's what it was. Jean was worried sick for him. For his future self. And Jeremy couldn't stomach the way it made him feel, his insides squirming with inadequacy. 

"I'm sorry," he said, unable to stop the apology slipping out. 

Jean looked over at him. Dropping his hand from his mouth, his expression shifting to something softer. It was an intense change that Jeremy had noticed on his face several times. Like he couldn't look at Jeremy in any other way but with tenderness in his gaze, with love. 

"This is my fault," Jeremy continued, aching at being the cause of ruining Jean's happiness. "I'm sorry." 

"Why do you think this is your fault?" Jean asked him patiently, like he'd played this song and dance a million times with Jeremy. 

Jeremy swallowed nervously, looking down to fiddle with the tassels of his blanket. Surely, if they were married, Jean had seen all the ugly insecurity and doubt Jeremy held inside of himself. Surely, he knew Jeremy did nothing but ruin every possible relationship he ever almost had with anyone, and that it would only be a matter of time until he fucked this one up too. Surely, Jean knew how worthless Jeremy truly was, how he was only good for one thing. 

He winced at the thought of Jean seeing him this way. Feeling the biting sting of it in his chest, even though Jean had never once expressed such a feeling. 

"I... I don’t know." Words failed him.

Jean stood up and walked over to the living room, carefully picking his way over the dogs and mindful not to step on any tails or paws where they’d all spread out, lost to sleep around the floor of the house. He stopped by Cat and Laila first, fixing the blanket over them, before taking a seat on the corner of the coffee table opposite Jeremy again.

He must like doing that, Jeremy thought, fighting back a fond smile. Maybe that was why they'd chosen such a sturdy looking table.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jeremy," Jean said quietly, drawing Jeremy's gaze back to his face. "It's just..." He trailed off with a grimace, mumbling something in French as he rubbed his palms together. Finally, he sighed, and continued, "You should rest. We do not know what this is," he swallowed nervously and added, "Or what this will do to you."

Jeremy laughed at this. "Yeah. Maybe I might explode. Or start disappearing like Marty McFly. God,” he groaned, tossing his head against the back of the couch. “I can't believe I'm living out the plot of Back to the Future. Of all the movies I could have picked from." 

Jean hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm, could have been worse. Could have been uh...the one with the dinosaurs?” He shook his head forlornly. “We did not need for you to be eaten." 

"Jurassic Park? You've seen it?" Jeremy sat up, suddenly feeling far more awake now than he had a moment ago.

The concept of Jean sitting down to watch something as absurd as a movie about dinosaurs coming back to life was truly baffling. He never stuck around long enough after dinner whenever they put on a movie. It was curious that such a thing had changed over time.

"Yes," the man in question chuckled lightly. "You— we, uh..." He sighed as he fumbled over the correct words until finally, he said, "We have watched many movies together." 

Jeremy smiled at this, his heart warming at the thought. "Nan was supposed to have a role in Back to the Future, you know? I never wanted to watch it because I was always caught on how it should have been her," Jeremy said wistfully. 

Jean smiled like he knew this already. 

"I guess you already know that." 

"Yes, I know" Jean nodded, his gaze unfocused but fond.

Jeremy studied him under the dim lighting, the shape of his face so much sharper, and full — defined with age. He'd thrown a sweater on over his shirt now, and he looked soft and inviting. Jeremy wondered if they cuddled together in bed, and then immediately squirmed in embarrassment at the thought. 

“So, uh…when did you learn to speak Arabic and Spanish?” Jeremy stuttered, in desperate need for a change in subject.

Jean snorted, and leaned back on the coffee table, his knuckles tapping lightly over the wood between his legs. “Sometime after graduation, I think?” His nose scrunched up cutely as he thought about the answer, combing back through so many memories Jeremy had yet to live. “We all lived together for a little while. They are far better languages than English.”

Where his lip would have once curled with distaste Jean simple smiled teasingly, and Jeremy was again confounded by the difference. Though as warming as it was to witness, Jeremy couldn’t help the way he missed his Jean’s surly nature, thinking fondly how his response would have been paired with a more creative insult.

He wondered if his future self was in his present right now, and how Jean and the girls reacted to his absence. Would his Jean be as concerned as this one? Would he be searching for Jeremy with as much motivation? Did his Jean miss him the way Jeremy did right now?

Jeremy thought maybe he knew the answer to that question, but if he was wrong, he didn’t think he’d be able to stomach it.

Unbidden, his eyes went to Jean’s cheek again, and with his own now pressing down into his shoulder, Jeremy mumbled, “Your tattoo. You removed it. Was it painful?”

Jeremy hoped Jean had understood he meant less about the physical process and more the emotional. He wondered what it had taken from Jean to make that final step and how distressing the turmoil must have felt. Or maybe it had felt freeing. Like rubbing away the ache in his wrists after being chained for so long.

Jean’s voice was soft and careful when he finally replied. “It was not easy, but I would not have gotten through it without...” His last vowel went unsaid, but Jeremy felt he heard it loud and clear in the intense stare that met his eyes and buried itself deep into Jeremy’s heart, almost catching his breath.

He couldn’t have possibly meant…

Unaware of Jeremy's current turmoil and sudden fierce longing, Jean suggested, "You should go to sleep, Jeremy. It is late. Go on up. I will be there in a min—" Both their eyes widened at the same time as Jean abruptly cut himself off. He cleared his throat and looked away, a flush under cheeks noticeable in the dim light. "Sorry I am used to…” He shook his head and tried again. “What I mean is, I will also —"

"Its fine,” Jeremy quickly cut in. “I know what you mean. I mean, uh, I don’t know, but I know." Attempting to clear the awkwardness Jeremy waved his hand between them, pushing up from the loveseat, the blanket slipping down his legs.

The thought of Jean getting caught in the muscle memory of sending a sleepy Jeremy to bed with the intention of joining him later had his nerves bubbling and his words stuttering.

This Jean couldn't know all the shameful ways Jeremy wished his Jean was going to bed next to him every night. He couldn’t know the ways he imagined Jean’s heat and safe presence beside him.

He had never wanted for such a thing before Jean, but after sharing a room with him and falling deeper everyday Jeremy often found himself lying in his cold room at the Wilshire mansion, wishing a certain grey eyed Frenchman was lying there beside him. 

Or maybe Jean did know these things. Maybe Jeremy had confessed them to him when he revealed his feelings, however that had come about. Maybe future Jeremy didn't have as many walls up and allowed himself to be loved fully. Maybe he even felt worthy and deserving of it. 

He almost snorted out loud at the thought. 

Despite it all, Jeremy couldn't deny the way he felt so protected here, why he felt so calm and reassured despite the panic of being here. Maybe, Jeremy truly did have the exact kind of future he spent many quiet and lonely nights longing for. 

With a heavy feeling in his chest, Jeremy offered Jean one last sincere smile as he moved to make his way back to the guest bedroom. He had just stepped past Jean when the man reached for him, his long warm fingers circling around Jeremy's wrist. 

Jeremy froze, staring down at Jean's earnest face. 

"We will get you back home, Jeremy," Jean all but whispered, his accent heavy and his tone tender.

Jeremy gulped and nodded his head. "I know you will," he replied softly. 

Jean smiled sadly, and released his wrist, his fingers skirting over Jeremy's hand before he pressed his own two together. “Goodnight, Jeremy.”

“Goodnight, Jean.”

Jeremy didn't let himself linger and instead forced his feet to move towards the stairs, silently praying this emotional torture would soon come to an end. 

~

Unbeknownst to them all, Jean had stayed up until ungodly hours of the morning searching for the famed fortune teller that had sent younger Jeremy to the future and disappeared future Jeremy from his very own bed.

When Jeremy arrived downstairs that morning, Jean had loaded up a picture of the supposed culprit, a classic headshot of a woman smiling serenely at the camera on an outdated website. Around her neck, sat a necklace with a pendant shaped into the symbol printed on the candy wrapper Jeremy had uncovered. 

“This is her?” Jean had asked hopefully, visible dark circles under his eyes.

When Jeremy confirmed he recognised her all seeing eyes, Jean had offered them just thirty minutes to eat their breakfast and properly wake themselves before he was ushering them all out the door. Jeremy wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all.

Maria Almeida was the name of their target, and she supposedly still lived in California in Pasadena. So, just a day after waking up in the future, Jeremy found himself on the strange woman's porch, whilst Cat knocked politely on the door with Laila by her side.

Jeremy and Jean stood behind them, Jean looking around the vicinity of the house with narrowed, suspicious eyes. His arms were folded over his chest again as he surveyed the area like a bodyguard on duty and Jeremy's eyes again kept snagging on his long fingers folded over his rather large bicep. 

He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt today with expensive looking baggy pants. He looked far too handsome dressed so casually, and Jeremy could still barely stomach looking at him. 

Of course, it was at that exact moment that his stone-grey eyes landed back on Jeremy. His eyebrows raised in question, but Jeremy simply shook his head and crossed his own arms over his chest, so he'd have something to hold on to. And to stop his heart from falling out of his chest right at Jean’s feet.

Jean had of course given him some of future Jeremy's clothes to wear. Jeremy couldn’t help smiling cheerily at the disapproving look Jean had worn when he'd handed them over. Jeremy's closet it seemed had not improved over the years and still mostly consisted of muscle tees and shorts. Like the soft matching grey set he currently wore. 

It did not escape his notice that they matched the shade of Jean's eyes, and he mentally berated his future self for being so damningly obvious with his choices.

Or maybe it didn't matter so much anymore if they were married. 

The wind chimes hanging above the porch jingled lightly despite there being no breeze and Jeremy focused on staring up at them curiously when the door opened. He froze at the sight of the woman before them. 

Maria Almeida appeared to not have aged a single day, her face as clear to Jeremy now as it had been in his memory. 

Her gaze went to him at once and she smiled like she could hear his thoughts and was expecting his arrival. Jeremy uncrossed his arms, his lips parting in surprise when he asked, "You remember me?"

"I remember everyone I've helped."

"Helped?" Laila asked, at the same time that Jean asked brusquely, "What does that mean?" 

Maria's eyes drifted over Cat and Laila, dismissing them as unimportant, before settling on Jean. Her expression was carefully blank but knowing.

After a moment of assessing she stepped aside and said, "Why don't you come inside, Jeremy?" 

Jeremy moved to step forward, past the girls, but Jean was faster, gently pushing him protectively behind his back and entering the house first. He looked comically large as he passed the woman and stepped into the doorway with visible apprehension, searching the corners for any hidden threats.

If the woman noticed Jean's tension and distrust, she did not show it and simply continued to smile knowingly at Jeremy instead. 

Jeremy ducked his head and entered, leaving the girl's the last to do so. 

The house, Jeremy mused, was not as strange and mystical as he would have expected for a woman of Maria's profession. In fact, it was rather ordinary. Homely, and inviting, though Jeremy spotted several crystals displayed around the living room where they had all eventually settled. 

On the coffee table sat a tray with a pot of tea and five small teacups. The fancy kind with no handles. 

She had been expecting them. 

"Naturally you understand, I can't disclose much about why you're here. You have to have figured that out yourself," she said, breaking the awkward silence to address Jeremy once they had settled in her living room. 

"Then what are we even doing here? Why did you let us in just to tell us that?" Jean fired back. His thigh pressed against Jeremy's where they'd all squashed onto the one long sofa in the room.

Jeremy felt the muscles tense beside his own and resisted the urge to press his palm to Jean's knee in a soothing gesture. 

"We do not have time for this cryptic nonsense," Jean continued. "He needs to go back to his time, and my Jeremy needs to come back here." 

Jeremy swallowed at the possessive and protective way Jean called his future self his. 

"What makes you think your version of him still exists?" Maria answered with unblinking eyes as she considered Jean. 

Jean stilled. "What," he hissed, his face paling, his eyes widening in shock. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. 

"Why would he not exist when he's right here?" Laila asked. 

"What have you done to him?" Jean seethed through clenched teeth, lurching forward in his seat.

His fingers curled into fists like he was going to kill someone. Jeremy knew he wouldn't hurt the woman, and she apparently did so too as she did not waver under Jean's panicked anger. 

Jeremy reached out to cover one of Jean's fists with his hand, tugging at his fingers until they loosened. "Hey, it's okay," he said uselessly, tugging until Jean unfurled his first.

Jean seemed to deflate at his touch, looking back at Jeremy through the corner of his eye. He tangled their fingers together in the next breath and Jeremy's heart picked up inside his chest, thumping even faster against his bones than it had been when they'd first stepped inside the house. 

Jean squeezed comfortingly as if he felt Jeremy's anxiety. 

Maria smiled, her eyes flickering from their joined hands, back up to Jeremy's startled face. 

"You understand, Jeremy. I have done nothing to you that you have not done to yourself." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Cat, sourly.

Maria paid her words no mind as she continued to address Jeremy like he was the only one in the room. "Don't you remember what I told you that night?" 

The words come back to him instantly, slamming into his mind like a freight train. Jeremy pressed his free hand to his head and curled over into himself. "You-you told me I was the only one in my way. That I could— that I could have everything I wanted if I made the right choice," he stuttered. 

Jean pressed his body closer to Jeremy's offering him comfort and stability as he looked down at him in concern. Jeremy stared in confusion at the woman, his hand tightening around Jean's. 

He opened his mouth, "I don't understand. What choice?"

"You know what choices you must make." 

Jean, growing more impatient by the second fired back, "You still have not answered my questions."

Maria regarded him with a blank stare, "Anything answer I give you, Jean-Yves Moreau, will only lead to another question. This is not your journey, it is his. Yours has already been realised. His has not."

Jean looked a second away from murdering her, so Jeremy tugged at their linked hands and pressed his body against Jean’s until he felt some of his tension ease. 

Then, he asked his own burning question, the only one that mattered, "How do I get back? How am I supposed to make these choices you keep talking about if i'm not in the right place and time to make them?" 

Maria smiled wider.

"I am afraid I cannot help you there. You simply have to want it enough." 

Jeremy thought perhaps he missed the way her eyes flickered down to the closeness between himself and Jean again, but then he blinked and her unwavering stare was still fixed on his. 

Jeremy absently squeezed Jean's hand.

"And then what? Poof and I'm gone? Back to where I was?" 

She shrugged and opened her hands as if to say pretty much. Cat laughed disbelieving whilst Laila moved into action, digging into her pocket to retrieve the candy wrapper. "What about this?" she asked, waving the wrapper towards the woman and slapping it down onto the coffee table. 

Maria looked down her nose at it. "Looks like trash to me." 

"That's what you gave me," Jeremy said, inching closer out of his seat. "You gave me this, I ate it and I felt— I passed out and when I woke up, I was here. This brought me here." 

"'No, Jeremy, you brought you here. It is as I told you that night, you have a decision to make. The longer you refuse to make it, the further away this future moves from you. When you are ready to, you will return to make your choice. There is nothing else more I can give to you than what I already have. You refused to see it, so fate has shown it you. Consider this motivation.” 

She shrugged her shoulders nonplussed, and Jean muttered rudely under his breath in French. Where Jeremy would have frowned at his impoliteness, he found he could only agree with whatever angry sentiment Jean was feeling. 

Their journey here had been pointless, and Jeremy felt no closer to getting back home than he did when he'd first woken in the future. 

He needed to want it enough, she’d proclaimed. So much for her psychic juju, he thought sourly as they left her house. If she was as good as she claimed to be, she’d know just how badly Jeremy already did.

~

The Californian afternoon sun was bright and beaming where it shined down over the back garden of future Jeremy's house. Present Jeremy stood on the patio, leaning against the sliding glass door frame that led out back. He watched, fondly, as Jean tugged irritably at his vegetable patch, his floppy sun hat keeping his face covered and protected from the sun. 

On the grass, the dogs slumbered, some chewing on toys whilst others sniffed at the dirt Jean had turned over. On more than one occasion, Jean had pointed warnings their way and they'd looked at him blankly before leaping away mischievously from his carefully constructed garden.

Jeremy couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face at their playful back and forth. In Jeremy’s time, Jean was still denying any affection towards Jabberwocky. He couldn’t imagine his expression if Jeremy were to go back and tell Jean he was a father to not just one but four dogs, all much bigger and playful than Jab.

Cat and Laila stepped out, glasses of cold iced tea in their hands. Jeremy accepted his gratefully from Laila, whilst Cat breezed down into the garden to hand over Jean's. 

Laila and Jeremy watched quietly as the two chatted away in the distance, Cat gesturing to the garden while Jean nodded along moodily, his jaw still noticeably hardened. He had not been pleased after their visit to the psychic and had stomped through the house and into the garden without uttering a word to anyone. Cat had assured Jeremy that gardening was one of the many ways Jean worked through his emotions. Jeremy had wanted to ask more but felt it best to leave the man to his devices until he calmed.

"Are you feeling okay?" Laila asked. 

Jeremy sighed and sank to the patio, perching just outside the doorway. Laila followed his lead. 

"Fine. Just confused." 

"Are you?" she pressed. 

Jeremy sighed heavily again. She was always so good at seeing right through him. 

"You know what decision she was talking about, don't you?" 

"Yes. I think it's fairly obvious."

Laila took another sip of her drink. "So, make it, Jeremy. Make the choice."

"It's not that simple." 

"Yes, it is. Look at this,” she gestured vaguely ahead, whether to specify the garden, the dogs, or Jean, Jeremy didn’t know though he didn’t think it mattered. “Don't you want it? And don't you dare tell me you don't." 

Jeremy pouted and looked down, fiddling with the condensation dripping down his glass, thumbing over the moisture. "I do. It's just... Laila, who even says I will get it? This is perfect right? It's everything. Hell, I won gold at the Olympics! That's crazy, but where do I go if I choose that in my time? I don't even know where my passport is! She has everything! There's no telling that I could— that I would have all of this. I'm still not even sure it's real!" 

Laila leaned over and promptly pinched him in the arm. Jeremy jerked away from her. "Ouch!" he said sourly, fixing her with an ugly look. 

"Did that feel real?" Laila asked sardonically. Jeremy only glared at her. "You can't just let that wretched woman rule your life, Jeremy. To hell if she has your documents. We'll get you new ones, we'll find a way. You have us, you have him. It might seem scary but, isn't the thought of losing this scarier?" 

Jeremy set down his glass and wrapped his arms around his legs, digging his chin into his knees. 

It was silent between the two of them for a while before Jeremy confessed, "I want it, Laila. I want it so bad it haunts me." 

Laila shuffled over, snaking her arm around his shoulder to tug him closer. "I would be more concerned if it didn't." 

"What do I do?" Jeremy all but whined, leaning his head on her shoulder. 

Laila pet at his hair softly and mumbled into the messy blond waves. "I don't know, but I think we're one step closer to finding out the answer." 

They sat in silence for a while, and Jeremy watched with rapt attention as Jean gulped down his cold drink, his throat bobbing and his skin sparkling with beading sweat under the sun. Jeremy groaned and pressed his eyes into his knees, but the white spots behind his eyes were all populated with images of Jean. His Jean. Back home.

He already missed him like a phantom limb.

Laila rubbed soothingly over Jeremy’s back, until he came up for air. Finally, voice a little ragged and timid, he asked, “Was it bad?”

“Was what bad?”

“My-my family. My mom. Was it…”

Laila sighed, and dropped her hand, settling her own glass down. “I can’t give you any details, you know, just in case. But…” she paused, brushing away the hair over his forehead, and tucking wild strands behind his ear. “…you get through it. And you’re so much better off for it, Jere. So much better off.”

Jeremy nodded his head, shuffling to rest against her shoulder. Jean looked over at them, his gaze assessing and concerned. Laila waved back at him, and Jean nodded, his eyes lingering over Jeremy before he forced them away.

Jeremy couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Possibly missing his version of him. Possibly resenting Jeremy right now for making everything so much more difficult than it needed to be. A lesson he seemingly was in desperate need of learning.

Inhaling deeply, Jeremy slipped his eyes shut again and leant into his friend’s embrace.

He was so ready to go home.

~

Fair ground music echoed distantly in Jeremy’s ears. It was dark, all around him, but a heavy smell of incense filled the air. Voices jumbled in his brain, speaking back and forth in varied tones. Something caught in his throat, and Jeremy tried to speak, tried to open his eyes in the darkness and call for help, but no words came out and no light filled his vision.

He felt like he was floating. The voices pulsing around him familiar and yet unrecognisable all the same. One set of voices sounded like they were arguing, the tone of them making Jeremy feel inadequate and afraid but also determined to push back. Another set of voices was softer, gentle and embracing. These made Jeremy feel lighter, and like he could sink into them, reassured that he could be held aloft by their comfort.

Jeremy’s head twisted, this way and that, as he tried to understand the words, tried to find where he was, and what was happening.

Everything around him began to spin.

He could not yet open his eyes, but he saw a strange mix of varying shades of purple, and a blur of faces he knew and loved all melding as one behind his eyelids, swirling around him whilst he was spun in a frantic motion. Around and around, Jeremy went.

He opened his mouth, ready to scream, when everything stopped.

Whatever held him aloft was pulled out from under him, and Jeremy sank. Falling hard and fast with nothing to catch him down below.

Jeremy groaned as the trilling of his alarm rung in his ear. He swatted for it, slapping his hand uselessly over the nightstand until he reached his phone and tapped at it before finally hitting the stop button.

With a huff, he pushed down his covers and took a pitiful moment to regret all his life choices.

He bolted up a second later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took in his familiar bedroom back at the Wilshire mansion. Jeremy stilled, his heart thundering so hard in his chest he felt it rattle his skull. He swallowed thickly, and brushed his hand over the sheets below him, gripping them in his fists until his hands shook before releasing them.

He had been…

Was he back?

Frantically, he reached for his phone, almost toppling out of his bed in his haste to check the time date and time.4:32am. February 17^th 2008. Jeremy laughed hysterically in the dark, suddenly filled with renewed energy.

He had not lost any time. He had not gone missing.

He dropped his phone and pat himself down, checking his clothes were the same he’d worn that evening, then digging his hand into his shorts pocket. He smiled wider as he felt the crinkle of a candy wrapped and yanked it out, attempting to examine it in the dark.

It was the same one. The same one he’d taken from the fortune teller. Pressing a hand to his chest he heaved out a relieved breath. Was it all a dream?

It felt too real to have been one but maybe…

He scrambled for his phone again, noting the lack of missed calls and worried messages. If he hadn’t lost time, and he hadn’t gone missing then…  

Jeremy’s eyes went to his nightstand; the stuffed blue bear Jean had gifted him resting where he’d placed it upon returning home from their evening at the fair. The memory of their game warmed his insides, a soft smile stretching across his face.

Jean. Jeremy couldn’t wait to see him. His fingers practically itching at the thought of him.

To hell with it, he thought as he frantically launched himself from his bed, tripping over his own feet in his haste to gather his things and head over to the lofts.

Ungodly hours of the morning be dammed. Jeremy needed to see his friends. He needed to see Jean.

Making quick work of changing his clothes and gathering his things, Jeremy chose to forgo his morning coffee in favour of getting across to the apartment quicker.

It was just approaching 6am by the time he reached the lofts, and the most awake he’d ever felt this early in the morning. He knew Jean and the girls would be awake by now, but he also knew they’d question his early arrival and excitable nature this morning having likely only just risen.

Jeremy haphazardly parked his car in the nearest available spot, before sprinting into the apartment building, taking the stairs two at a time. He couldn’t help his excited and jittery knock on the door as he waited eagerly on his toes.

The faint pattering of Jabberwocky’s paws on the floor as he made his way to the door could be heard in the hall and Jeremy’s heart buzzed in anticipation.

The apartment door was slowly pulled open to reveal a sleepy looking Catalina Alvarez. Jeremy beamed while she blinked at him. Without warning, he threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a fierce hug. Cat’s breath puffed out from her chest as she rocked backwards at the sudden impact. Jab scuffled backwards and out of harms way between their legs.

“Easy, Jeremy,” Cat choked out. “Where’s the flood?”

Jeremy squeezed her tighter, before reluctantly pulling away. “I’m just happy to see you,” he exhaled.

Cat pat at his back and yawned into his ear, “You need to tone it way down, babe. I’m not awake enough for this.”

She yawned massively again until her jaw popped and then sighed as she led him further into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind them. Jeremy followed hot on her heels, moving further into the apartment until finally they reached Laila and Jean, both stood in the small kitchen area.

They turned at his arrival and Jeremy only smiled wider, feeling something settle inside of him at the sight of them.

Rushing forward, he fell into Laila first as he had done with Cat. She too let out a puff of air as Jeremy collided into her, and he took a moment to bury his face into her fluffy curls. She smelled as she always did (as he knew she always would) and Jeremy breathed it in.

“Urm, everything okay, Jere?” she asked him tiredly, soothing a hand up and down his back.

“Better now,” Jeremy mumbled into her shoulder, his eyes slipping closed as he basked in her presence.

“Ugh okay, well you can let go of me now,” she mumbled. “It’s far too early for this.”

Jeremy chuckled softly, then pulled away, patting at her shoulder apologetically. “Sorry,” he said cheerily.

She tapped his cheek affectionately, before slipping past him. It was then that Jeremy’s gaze finally landed on Jean.

He had been watching Jeremy curiously, one hand resting on the countertop while the other hung limp by his side. His expression was blank as he studied the interaction between Jeremy and Laila.

Jeremy stilled at the sight of him, of his Jean. Young, and impassive, just as Jeremy knew him to be. Looking soft and sleepy this morning, his hair stuck up cutely behind his ears and Jeremy’s finger itched with the need to smooth down the unruly locks.

As always, Jean’s gentle and calm nature was like a breath of fresh air.

It baffled Jeremy that anyone could see him any other way.

Slowly, he drifted towards him. He thought he briefly heard Laila question his sanity to Cat in a loud whisper but ignored their blatant gossiping in favour of granting Jean all his attention.

Jean’s eyes raked up and down Jeremy’s form as he drew closer, before searching his face. Looking for any signs of upset, or distress. Looking for the cause of Jeremy’s madness so early in the morning.

Jeremy felt his own eyes soften as he held his arms out.

“Can I?” he asked, hopefully.

Jean looked towards the girls, then back to Jeremy. A little uncertain, but unafraid, he nodded his consent, and Jeremy all but collapsed into him, his arms snaking around Jean’s waist as he pulled him into a hug. He was tall, and warm, his smell familiar and comforting, wrapping around Jeremy like a soft blanket.

Jeremy’s head rested just under Jean’s chin, and he could feel his tension where he’d frozen at Jeremy’s sudden contact.

Guilt sunk into Jeremy’s bones, and he was a second away from pulling back when Jean’s strong arms circled him, his hands resting hesitantly over Jeremy’s shoulder blades. Like he was afraid to press too close. Jeremy smiled wider against Jean’s soft sleep shirt and squeezed him reassuringly as he sunk into Jean’s chest.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, allowing his feelings to spill loose from his lips finding he didn’t want to hide anymore.

He wanted to make all the right choices.

“I did not go anywhere,” Jean said, his voice a little strangled like he couldn’t quite comprehend Jeremy being in his arms and saying such a thing.

Jeremy pressed the curve of his lips into the collar of Jeans shirt, listening to his heart beating rapidly in his chest, hoping he could hear the rhythm of Jeremy’s too.

Only when he felt on the edge of swaying dreamily in Jean’s embrace, did he finally pull away, resisting the urge to sigh at Jean’s hands smoothing over his shoulders before they dropped limply by his side. Not wanting to test the limits of how much he had been allowed to touch already, Jeremy kept his hands clenched in the material of Jean’s loose-fitting shirt as he stared up at him.

His cheeks flushed as he mentally prepared himself for his next declaration.

“Jean,” he said, nervously. “Would you like to get dinner with me tomorrow, after practice?”

Jean’s brows pulled together in confusion. His eyes drifted to the girl’s as they both gasped and squealed quietly, before landing back on Jeremy.

“Cat and I usually go to the store,” Jean replied, evidently puzzled.

With a light chuckle, Jeremy shook his head. “No, Jean. I mean, like a date.”

A blush rose instantaneously under Jean’s cheeks, his face stuttering as his eye widened in shock. His lips parted, but no words came out, and Jeremy beamed at his sudden shyness.

Jean’s eyes searched his face. Looking for earnestness in Jeremy’s proposition perhaps, wondering if he was allowed to say yes, or what the consequences of saying yes may be. Jeremy kept his expression calm, and open, letting Jean find his answers in his unwavering gaze.

He watched Jean’s throat bob as he swallowed, and Jeremy held his breath when Jean finally replied. “Yes. Okay,” he nodded, and Jeremy’s lip stretched wider into a grin.

“Okay,” Jeremy agreed.

His hand slipped from Jean’s shirt to circle his wrist instead. He tugged lightly, thumbing over Jean’s racing pulse as their eyes drank each other in. Jeremy couldn’t describe the happiness and relief that filled him inside, feeling like a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. He was certain he’d made the first in a list of right choices.

He turned to address the girls, whose mouths had fallen open in shock as they stared at him.

“Breakfast?” Jeremy asked, cheerily.

His heart was still thundering like a drum in his chest, but he felt lighter and filled with optimism. They heavy weight of Jean’s lingering and burning gaze only fuelling him with brightness.

Laila was the first to recover, and she pressed her lips together fighting back her own grin, her eyes shining with a fond happiness. Jeremy felt it flood through him.

“Breakfast,” she nodded.