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“Jay, I hate you. I’m so serious, I despise you–”
“Uh-huh,” is all Jay says because it’s kind of hard to take Tim seriously when he says this at least once a day. It’s practically routine at this point. Tim goes to the store, or out to smoke, or something and he comes back mad at Jay about something or other. Sometimes it’s a new thing, but usually it’s the same recycled bullshit. Jay wonders sometimes if Tim does it just to have something to do.
They’re stuck in these motel rooms all day, every day. They can’t even leave without the other close behind. Jay felt bad the first time he caught himself trailing behind Tim like a lost puppy, he almost apologized. But then he noticed the look of relief on Tim’s face when he looked back and saw him, and he thought maybe his presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He knew it wasn’t when the next day, Tim was doing the same thing. They were kind of like ducklings, one couldn’t be without the other. It made them anxious, or at least it made Jay anxious. If Tim wasn’t in his line of sight he didn’t know what could be happening to him.
Anyway, that’s all to say that Jay wouldn’t exactly blame him. If he picked the fights for fun. He was stuck with Jay all of the time, he deserved some reprieve, didn’t he? So he indulges him. Turns away from his laptop, raises an eyebrow at him. Inviting the man to go on. Instead, Tim breaks their carefully crafted routine and furrows his eyebrows. His eyes shoot quickly over Jay’s face, and then his slumped body in the chair.
“Are you not sleeping?”
Honestly, it’s a little rude. Jay had been prepared for a fight, not to talk about his sleeping habits. Which were, admittedly, sub par. It wasn’t entirely his fault. How could he sleep when phantom eyes watched him from the window? When there was a flash of beige in every shadow? But he’s not about to admit that.
“What? I mean– yeah, I am, like, sometimes– What are you talking about?”
Tim walks forward with a frown and Jay, somehow, does not flinch. He just tilts his head, confused as to the direction this conversation has taken. It’s a bit jarring, really. How quickly Tim could go from annoyed to something that could be mistaken for concern. Something that could never actually be concern, because Tim hates Jay, but a boy can dream.
“You’ve got, like,” Tim gestures to Jay’s eyes, specifically the purple bags under them, “Bags under your eyes. And you look all… I don’t know.”
Jay didn’t know either. He tries to avoid mirrors nowadays. Too afraid he’ll find something lurking behind him. And he rarely shows his face on camera, so the only time he really saw himself was in the dark reflection of his laptop. Which didn’t really allow for a clear view of his every feature.
Now that Tim mentioned it though, he could feel his eyes sting with the weight of being held open. He can’t actually remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep. Being afraid of things that go bump in the night is a bit different when you not only have proof they exist, but also that they’re coming for you specifically. It makes sleep hard. It makes everything hard.
“Thanks,” Jay musters up, and it comes out dry. The same brand of sarcasm he loves being dragged down by his exhaustion. Tim scoffs.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult. I just mean… you could use some rest, is all.”
It’s a nice thought. But Jay’s got work to do. Besides, sleep only brings nightmares. And if there are no nightmares, then it brings abrupt awakenings. Both are bad. So Jay sighs, putting his exhaustion on the back burner.
“Thanks for your input, Tim.”
Jay spins his chair back around to face the computer, and suppresses a yawn. Tim just had to bring it up, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about sleep.
“Oh come on, Jay. Take a break. And a nap, while you’re at it.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Tim groans, and Jay hears him stand up from where he’s apparently sat on the mattress. Suddenly, his chair is being spun back around to face Tim. The man’s hands are on the armrests on either side of Jay, caging him in, and huh. He should probably be a little frightened. Tim, though not recently, has shown violent tendencies with him before. He punched him in the face. But he is very much not.
Instead he’s gazing up at Tim from his slumped position in the chair (And oh, isn’t that new? He’s never been looking up at Tim before), raising his eyebrows. He’s a little bit in shock. Tim just smiles easily at him.
“You’re of no use to me if you’re constantly on the brink of passing out, you know.”
Jay rolls his eyes, because he can’t help it. “I’m fine. I’m not gonna pass out.”
“You will if you keep going like this. When’s the last time you slept?”
That he can answer honestly, “Last night.”
“And for how long?”
It’s silent for a moment. Jay avoids eye contact, and suddenly Tim is grabbing his chin and raising his head so he’s looking at him. What the fuck. What the fuckkkk. Jay’s internal monologue is pretty much just that for a few seconds. He blue screens, and he’s not quite sure what to say because what the fuck.
“How long, Jay?”
“Two hours.”
How can Jay possibly not answer him when Tim is doing this? He doesn’t even know what this is, he just knows that it’s not entirely unwelcome. It’s been a while since touch hasn’t hurt and Tim’s touching him in a way that doesn’t hurt at all. He has a firm grip on his face, but it’s gentle. If Jay really wanted to, he could push Tim away right now. But Jay doesn’t want to do that.
“Two hours? Jesus, Jay… you’re taking a nap.”
“What?”
“Yup. I’m gonna go get dinner, and you’re gonna take a nap.”
“You’re just gonna leave me here while I’m sleeping?”
A couple years ago, the question would’ve sounded ridiculous to him. Why wouldn’t Tim leave while he was sleeping? Objectively, it was the best time to go. But things are different now. Sleeping is when you’re most vulnerable. Sleeping is the best time for something to attack, and there are things that very much want to attack him.
And Tim… Tim is safe. Tim, to Jay, is safety and protection. And the idea of Tim not being there while he slept is frightening. Because if not, who would protect him if something came? It was stupid, because Jay isn’t a child, or even someone that needs protecting. But still, it had been rooted into his brain at this point. If Tim isn’t around, it’s not safe.
Jay must be suffering from sleep deprivation induced hallucinations because he swears he sees Tim’s face soften, the tiniest bit.
“No… no, of course not. You can nap in the back of the car. C’mon.”
And his tone is so infuriatingly gentle it makes Jay want to scream. Or punch him in the face, or walk straight up to the monster that’s been terrorizing them and offer himself up on a silver platter. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stands up, and follows Tim out to the car. Their car, his heart sings, to which he tells it to shut up. It’s their car out of convenience. They’re traveling together anyway, there’s no point in having two cars. Technically, it’s Tim’s car that Jay just so happens to also use sometimes.
He doesn’t end up getting in the back, because that just feels stupid. And because he doesn’t want to just blindly follow what Tim tells him to do. So he sits in the front seat while Tim drives, and rests his head on the window. He’s out in less than two minutes.
——————•——————
The thing about jumping from motel to motel on a pretty much weekly basis is that eventually you run out of motels. So you end up in the really janky ones, the ones that have only 3 ratings and two of them are 1 star, the ones that cost $20 a night. A lot of the time, those are the ones in the literal middle of nowhere. You know, the kind of place that’s in the center of a field with all civilization no less than 15 miles away.
As such, the drive takes a while. Which gives Jay time to sleep. And, to be completely honest, he desperately needs it.
Sleeping while in a moving vehicle just feels safer. There’s less opportunity for something to attack, because you’re not staying still. But he still wakes up the second the car stops, groggily sitting and rubbing at the crick in his neck that came from sleeping in such an odd position. They’re stopped in a drive thru, and Tim is leaning out the side ordering some junk from a fast food place he’s never even heard of before. He seems surprised when he looks over to see Jay awake.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He asks, and he sounds slightly guilty. For a reason that makes Jay feel nauseous to think about, he wants to ease that away immediately.
“Nah. Woke up because we stopped.” Jay says, voice thick with sleep, “What’d you get me?”
“A Sprite and a taco. Hope that’ll be enough for you. I would’ve asked, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Jay hums in a half affirmation, and lays his head back down on the window. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall back asleep now, but he might as well rest his eyes a bit.
Tim gets the food from the window, and pulls into the parking lot. They eat in silence for a while, the only sound being the slight hum of the air conditioning and the crunching of stale tortilla shells. It’s not too bad, all things considered. Really could taste worse, considering it’s a random fast food place probably run by overworked teenagers. Jay’s had worse food. At least he’s pretty sure this won’t give him food poisoning.
Tim speaks up first, which is weird because usually Jay’s the one who can’t keep his mouth shut.
“I’m, uh, sorry for yelling at you. Earlier.”
That’s even weirder. They don’t really do apologies. They’re both stubborn, and slightly tired of each other most of the time. Usually there’s just a mutual understanding there after fights. Maybe they meant it, maybe they didn’t, but regardless they’re stuck with each other so there’s no use dwelling on it.
“It’s fine.” Jay says, and it’s awkward. It’s horribly awkward. He’s a horribly awkward person.
“Is it? Is anything?”
Oh fuck he’s getting deep. Jay cannot do this right now. He is still half asleep and clutching a taco in his hand so hard he’s actually concerned that it’s not breaking. He takes a beat too long to answer.
“I mean… probably not. But, nothing we can do, right?”
Tim is silent. Everything is silent. Even the crickets have stopped chirping. Tim is starting to get angry again, and Jay can tell by the way huffs and rolls down the window to smoke a cigarette. His fifth one today. Jay will never admit to counting. It’s too quiet, so Jay opens his mouth to say something, but Tim beats him to it.
“I wish you never dragged me back into this shit.”
Jay starts to get defensive, argument on the tip of his tongue. He can picture how the rest of the car ride will go. They’ll yell for a bit, Tim will step out of the car to smoke and then slam his door on the way back in. They’ll drive back to their motel room in silence. The air will be too tense for Jay to fall back asleep, so he’ll just stare out the window. Tim will spit out something like “stop moping” and Jay will say “I’m not” and they’ll continue to ignore each other. But when he opens his mouth, an argument isn’t what comes out.
“Do you hate me?” And it’s aggressive but also pleading. He hates it.
It seems to shock Tim as much as it shocks Jay, so they both shut up for a minute.
“I might.”
Jay just sighs. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He’s tired. He’s in love with the man sitting next to him, the man whose life he ruined irreparably. The man who hates him, the man who is just another name on Jay’s growing list of victims.
He doesn’t have a paper copy, but if he did, it would look something like this. Tim’s name would be first. Bolded, written in big letters. Maybe underlined. Jessica would be next, followed by Amy. Alex’s name would be at the bottom, crossed out and erased and rewritten so many times it was barely legible.
“Can we just… go home?” Jay asks, and then winces at his choice of words.
He expects the usual biting response. The anger, the yelling. The continued attempt at a fight. But Tim breaks the status quo for the second time that night.
“Yeah. Yeah, we can.”
Jay’s too tired to be shocked. Tim turns on the radio, and Jay closes his eyes. He thinks he sleeps. He doesn’t know.
——————•——————
Tim doesn’t slam the car door when he gets out, so neither does Jay. He doesn’t huff in frustration while getting ready for bed, refusing to look at Jay. He doesn’t grunt that he’s taking a shower, and then go purposely use up all of the (very little) hot water in their room. No, he walks in calmly, and sits on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.
Jay doesn’t know what to do about this, so he just sits very quietly on the edge of his own bed and waits. For what? He has no clue. But eventually Tim does decide to say something.
“I don’t.” He mutters, very quietly. Jay waits a moment for the rest of that sentence but it never comes.
“What?”
“Hate you. I don’t–” Tim finally picks his head up from where it sits, and runs a hand over his face, “I don’t hate you.”
Jay takes a moment to process this. He doesn’t necessarily believe it. Tim very much acts like he hates him. He also says that he hates him, often.
“Okay…” He drawls out, “Cool. Nice. I don’t, um, I don’t hate you either.”
For some reason, that just seems to upset Tim further. He groans, and stands up. He’s pacing now. This is bizarre. This whole night is bizarre. Jay doesn’t quite know what to do about anything that’s happening right now. He feels like he’s going to explode. Half of him wants to just storm out of the room, walk into the middle of the forest. At least there things make sense, he knows what to expect. The other half of him wants… Just wants. He doesn’t know what.
“No, I’m serious,” Tim’s stopped pacing, and he’s standing directly in front of Jay. His brow is furrowed, a pinched expression on his face, “I don’t hate you.”
Jay laughs, because he’s not sure what else to do. It’s nervous, and kind of incredulous. “Are you sure? Because it definitely seems like you do.”
Tim sighs, and it’s far too exasperated for Jay’s liking. He thinks Tim shouldn’t get to be that exasperated by this conversation, when he’s the one that’s confusing Jay.
“Well, I don’t. So…”
Jay really, really doesn’t like feeling pitied. It is one of his least favorite feelings in the world. He doesn’t need to be pitied, especially not by Tim. He can take it. He can take the hatred, and the anger, and the fighting. He’ll choose that over whatever this is. Because at least that’s real.
“Listen, Tim, it’s fine, alright? You don’t need to like, feel guilty. I get it, I ruined your life, you’re entitled to hate me. Honestly, I would hate me t–”
It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to register Tim’s lips on his. It’s barely 5 seconds, not even enough time for Jay to really understand what’s going on. Tim’s hand stays fisted in his shirt when he pulls away. His eyes search Jay’s face. Jay couldn’t tell you what he looked like at that moment, but if he had to guess he’d say he probably looked very reminiscent of a deer in headlights.
Whatever Tim’s looking for, Jay has no idea if he finds it or not. He lets go of his shirt, pushes him away. Jay could get whiplash from how quickly Tim went from kissing him to putting as much distance between them as possible. Tim grabs his keys off the table, and heads for the door.
“I’m going for a drive.”
“What? Tim, what the hell–” The door is slammed before Jay can get out a full sentence. He stares at it for a minute. Maybe if he looks hard enough he’ll figure out what the hell just happened.
It takes a while before Jay can move from his current spot. When he actually retains some of his motor functions, he decides on taking a shower. He needs to think.
It’s a standing shower, but he sits anyway. Curled up in a ball on the floor. The kind of position you only end up in after your friend/traveling partner/victim kisses you and then just leaves. Part of Jay hopes he just doesn’t come back. The part of Jay that is bitter, and fearful of ruining everything he loves.
Most of Jay hopes he comes back sooner rather than later. But he doesn’t know what he’d say. Doesn’t even really know what happened. He tries reasoning with himself. Maybe Tim just really wanted him to shut up. But there are easier ways to shut someone up. Less intimate ways. Ways that don’t involve mouth to mouth contact with someone you hate.
Except Tim says he doesn’t hate him, which makes no sense to Jay. Part of their mutual understanding this entire time has been that Tim hates him. It’s fine, it’s something he understands. It’s one of the only things set in stone these days. He knows very few things for sure, but Tim hating him is one of those things. That’s not to say he likes it, but at least it’s consistent. Except now it’s not. And Jay’s never done well with change, not even the good kind.
Jay stays in the shower for a while after the water turns cold. The prick of cold water on his skin is enough to bring him down to earth. To convince him this is real. He doesn’t get out until his fingertips look like prunes, and he’s shivering so violently he can barely grab the towel. It’s gonna be a long night.
——————•——————
Tim doesn’t come back until 2 in the morning. Actually, it’s 2:25 on the dot. Jay knows this because the second he got out of the shower he spent the entire time staring numbly at the clock on his computer.
He has a couple hours to think. About the kiss, about what Tim meant by it, about what Jay would say to him.
But all of that preparation seems to be in vain, because when Tim walks through the door, he can’t do much other than stare. They stay like that for a few minutes, just look at each other. Usually, Jay’s mind is an ever-revolving wheel of thoughts. Tohey collide and contradict, bounce off each other like bumper cars at carnival. Right now, his brain is completely empty.
Rather bizarrely (though what about this night hasn’t been bizarre), he is very focused on the wall behind Tim. He has counted and recounted every crack and chip in the paint at least three times now. He is devoting most of his attention into finding out what the stain by the light switch might be. He is so focused, that when Tim speaks, he actually jumps.
“We don’t need to talk about it.”
That gets him back on track. “What? Yes, we do. You– you kissed me.”
Tim, infuriatingly, rolls his eyes and huffs. He walks over to his bed and sits there. Rests his head back and closes his eyes. So casual. It makes Jay want to scream.
“I know what I did, Jay.”
God this asshole. Jay changes his mind. He actually hates him. He guaffs at him for a moment.
“Well–“ He stutters for a moment, awkward awkward awkward, “I wanna know why.”
“To get you to shut the hell up.” Tim says, and he’s turned away from him now.
“There are easier ways to get someone to shut up,” Jay says, exactly like he thought earlier, “You could’ve– I don’t know, punched me.”
Tim turns around again, and he’s giving him an odd look. Like what Jay just said was absolutely ridiculous. Like he hadn’t done that before. He scoffs.
“I wouldn’t have punched you.” He says it quietly. As if he’s offended Jay thinks he’d do that.
It makes Jay angry. Jay’s angry a lot these days. “Well excuse me for thinking you would. Totally unreasonable, not like you’ve ever done it before.
Tim gets quiet again. Jay has no reason to feel about that, considering what a dick Tim’s being, but he does.
“Can you just shut up and go to bed? It’s late.”
“It wouldn’t have had to be this late if you didn’t run away and disappear until two in the morning. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
Tim huffs, “You could’ve called.”
“Would you have answered?” Silence. Jay is getting so tired of silence. It’s awkward and gut wrenching. Every sound of wind outside makes him flinch.
Tim doesn’t bother to speak again, but he should know by now that Jay can talk to himself for hours on end. “Why did you kiss me, Tim?”
Tim Wright, for once in his life, decides not to stay silent. Instead he pushes himself up into a sitting position, and glares at Jay.
“Because you wouldn’t shut up. Because I wanted to, because I’ve wanted to since college. Because your stupid lips wouldn’t stop moving and so I decided to make them. Because I wanted to know if they’d be soft. And because you were just being so dumb. Saying dumb things about yourself, and it was pissing me off. Satisfied?”
There’s a lot to process there. First off, Jay doesn’t like how many times Tim called him dumb in that explanation. Somehow he thinks maybe that isn’t the part that he’s supposed to focus on. He’s moving on autopilot now, so you’ll have to excuse him for the words that come out of his mouth.
“You’ve wanted to kiss me since college?”
Tim stares at him. Like he wants him to shut up. Like, Jay’s come to realize, he wants to kiss him. Again. “You are so smart. How can someone as smart as you be so stupid?”
Jay scoffs, but he can’t do much more than that. Tim’s complimenting him now, if only partly, and that’s never failed to bring a flush to his cheeks.
Tim rubs a hand over his face. Jay has failed to realize until now how tired he looks.
“Look… we can forget about it, can’t we? We’re stuck together, whether we like it or not. So I’m sorry that I kissed you, but can you just go to bed? And tomorrow we can ignore each other, and go back to what we were doing before.”
That sounds like the safe option. The option to get the least people hurt. It is an unfortunate reality that neither of them have had the courage to confront, but both of them won’t make it out of this. Someone is going to die. There is no scenario where getting more attached than they already are will end well.
But… Jay Merrick has been described as a lot of things. A quitter and a coward however, do not fall under that category. Stupid though? Yeah, maybe.
“Do it again.”
Jay thinks Tim’s eyes might pop out of his head if they got any wider. “Do it– what?”
He’s made up his mind. “Do it again. Properly this time. Kiss me again.”
Tim sighs. “Jay…”
“Tim.” He’s never been more sure of anything in his entire life.
Tim grits his teeth for a moment. But he stands up. He walks toward Jay slowly. Jay is ready this time. He pays attention to the way Tim’s hands feel cupping his face. Catalogs the details of Tim’s face in the section of his mind he reserves for the most important things. He counts Tim’s eyelashes, and the small scars that litter his face. He notices the small tan line he has around the edges of his face, from the mask he wears when he’s someone else.
His lips are chapped. The kiss is much more gentle compared to the last one. They’re both putting their all into it. Jay is relieved to find he’s not the only one left breathless.
“You don’t hate me.” Is the only thing Jay can think to say after. He stares into Tim’s eyes. They have hints of a honeyed color, he never noticed that before.
“I don’t hate you.” Tim confirms. He has not let go of his face.
“Why do you argue with me so much?”
Tim laughs. It’s wet. And his face is wet. Is he crying? Oh. Maybe Jay is crying too.
“Because I fucking love you. And I hate it.”
Oh. Okay then. “But you don’t hate me?”
Tim shakes his head. He wipes under Jay’s eye. He was crying then. Weird. He can’t remember the last time he cried.
“No, Jay. I don’t hate you.”
But I’m going to lose you. Jay can tell that’s what’s missing from the end of that sentence. He can’t reassure Tim. So he kisses him again. It’s not as urgent this time. It is soft, thought through. They are tired, but they have each other. It’s messy and complicated, but they do.
They’re holding each other. Jay thinks it could be the end of the world and they wouldn’t stop holding each other. Jay thinks it might be.
“Your lips are soft, by the way.”
Jay laughs. Yeah, maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe none of it matters if Tim is standing in front of him and he loves him. Jay doesn’t know if he deserves that love, but love isn’t about deserving. No one deserves anything.
“We should… go to bed. Together.”
Tim raises an eyebrow. Jays dave goes beet red. Maybe he’s still a little awkward.
“No, I mean– That’s not what I– I just meant, you know, like in the same bed, but not–“
When Tim rolls his eyes this time Jay is close enough to see the fondness there. He’s close enough to feel it. It warms him up from head to toe. They get in the bed. Nothing is okay. But they have each other. It’s not enough, but it matters.
Jay doesn’t sleep peacefully that night, but there is a hand to squeeze when he wakes up screaming. And there are lips to brush away his tears.