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Chapter Text

A Story Inspired By [This Text Post] from magnaesquire on Tumblr

While he wasn’t proud of it, Octavius could confidently say he had never worked on a car before in his life. He had refilled the air in his tires a few times, and topped off the coolant once or twice back when his old car had a leak. But beyond that his knowledge of the inner workings of a car was limited at best.

Stepping into the on-campus garage was like stepping into a strange and unfamiliar world. Briefly, he wondered if this was how Jedediah had felt when he first set foot in the theatre Octavius had been rehearsing in the night before. It wouldn’t surprise him.

A few students (and perhaps a teacher or two? He couldn’t be sure…) were lingering about the space, some working beneath the hoods of cars and others off near a set of lockers in the corner putting away mechanics’ gloves and grease-marked coveralls. Octavius asked a young woman who was on her way out where Jedediah was, and she pointed him over to a vintage Volkswagen Beetle in the far back corner of the garage. He thanked her with a smile.

The car was a beat-up old thing, Octavius noted as he approached. It looked as though it had once been a pale yellow, but most of the paint was either flaked and worn away, damaged by rust, or dirtied and dusty with age. Its tires had been removed and it was raised slightly from the floor by a mechanical lift. Octavius could see someone moving beneath the rear hood of the car...and he assumed he probably knew who it was. He rapped his knuckles against the passenger door, and a familiar blond head popped out from behind the vintage vehicle.

“Octavius?” Jedediah asked, eyes widening briefly before he furrowed his brow, confused. “How in Sam Hill did you find me here?”

“Er - Amelia,” Octavius smiled sheepishly. He was momentarily sidetracked by the messy ponytail Jedediah had pulled his hair into, by the smudge of grease on his cheek, by the half-donned brown coveralls with the top half pulled down and the sleeves tied around his waist, by the skin-tight denim-blue tank top beneath it that brought out the blue in his eyes–

Octavius cleared his throat and dragged his focus back up to meet the (slightly scrutinous) gaze of Jedediah, willing the traitorous thoughts away. He had a boyfriend, dammit.

...though nobody ever said you couldn’t enjoy looking at pretty things you weren’t planning on buying. Right?

Now he sounded like Ahkmenrah.

“She sort of suggested I stop by,” Octavius added, praying that the heat in his cheeks wasn’t a visible blush. “But either way, I wished to talk to you after class. I didn’t realize you had elsewhere to be. My apologies.”

“Th’ hell are you apologizin’ for?” Jedediah asked incredulously. He set aside the penlight he had been using and snatched up a grease-marked rag to wipe his hands on. Octavius followed his hands for a brief moment, chuckling sheepishly.

“For nothing, I suppose,” he admitted wryly. “I’ve been apologizing a lot lately. Perhaps it’s becoming a bad habit.”

“Don’t let it stick,” Jed suggested. He eyed Octavius for a breath. Then: “My Pa always says a man ought not apologize fer things that ain’t his fault. Say sorry when it’s needed, but the more times ya do it, the less it means.” He shrugged. “Besides, I can’t imagine much you’d need ta apologize for anyhow.”

“I...thank you? I think.” Octavius was normally quite verbose, something he prided himself in, but somehow this entire exchange was not transpiring the way he had hoped it would. Jedediah’s unexpected compliment - it was a compliment, wasn’t it? - had him more certain now than before that the blush he had been hoping to hide earlier was not nearly so subtle.

Jedediah turned away to toss the now-slightly-dirtier rag onto the workbench behind him, then he came out from behind the car to lean against its side door, within better reach of his conversation partner.

“Were you just here for some chit-chat, or didja have somethin’ in mind?”

“Oh - the, er. The Western History project. I was planning on speaking with you about it after class to lay out a schedule at the very least, but - well. Like I said, you had elsewhere to be.” Then, glancing sideways at the beat up old car beside them: “Is this a class project you’re working on as well?”

“What, this?” Jed kicked his heel back gently against the car door behind him, then grinned and shook his head. “Nah, this here’s a personal pet project o’ sorts. I kinda like fixin’ up old cars in my spare time. This ain’t the first, o’ course, but she’s the most recent.”

“Oh?” Octavius perked up, his curiosity piqued, their project on Rome momentarily brushed aside. “Have you gotten any of the others in working condition yet?”

“A handful, sure,” Jed beamed proudly. He tucked one thumb in his pocket and jerked the other toward a garage door at the back of the building. “Some of them are out in the lot, but a few I sold off to people lookin’ to add to their collection, or just lookin’ for a usable ride around campus. It’s not just the pretty ones I work on.”

“Would consider this one ‘pretty’?” the actor nodded toward the beetle, and Jedediah pushed away from where he was leaning to turn around. He bent over, peering into one of the dusty windows, a sparkle in his eyes as he took in the sad and well-worn interior.

“...absolutely.” He cast Octavius a sideways grin. “Volkswagen Beetle...now that’s a classic car. It’s the Love Bug. Herbie. A car with character. And she’s a real doozy to work on, let me tell ya - them Germans are crazies when it comes to designin’ their cars - but hell if it ain’t gonna be a worth it when I’m done with her.”

This was something Jedediah was passionate about, Octavius realized. He had that same spark in his eyes and the same energy about him that Octavius felt and saw whenever he and Ahkmenrah took the stage. Jed wasn’t just going into this as a career because he knew he could make money at it...no, he was doing it because he loved it.

“I’d love to see it when you’re finished.”

Octavius found himself saying it without thinking. Would he even be in touch with Jedediah, still, by the time the car was completed? That would be thinking too far ahead, surely...but Octavius found himself hoping so all the same.

“Hey, would you like to see my favorite?” Jedediah was asking now, suddenly all high-energy and eager smiles. He was already reaching for his coat and scarf, already wrapping the red fabric haphazardly around his neck and shoving his arms into the sleeves. “It’s out back! Just got a fresh coat of paint on it over the weekend - it’s a beaut. C’mon!”

Jedediah reached out and caught Octavius’ wrist, pulling him along toward a door in the back that was set into the wall right beside one of the massive garage doors. Octavius didn’t even argue, his curiosity getting the better of him - and really, Jed was acting about as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. How could he say no? As they passed a window, he caught a glimpse of a full lot of cars in various states of disrepair, a lot that he soon found himself walking through as Jedediah dragged him out the door.

Octavius pulled his collar higher with his free hand, shivering slightly against the chill. Perhaps he really should invest in a scarf. If Ahkmenrah was free this week, perhaps they could make a trip of it…

“Hold on.” Jed let go of Octavius’ wrist and dashed over to something that was covered in a massive tarp - most likely the car Jedediah was so eager to show him. There was a dusting of snow on it, so it probably had been sitting there for no more than a day. Jedediah got a good grip on the tarp and pulled it off in a few sharp tugs, letting the material crumple in a heap on the ground.

Octavius’ eyes widened.

It was vintage, he could see that straight away. Not that he knew its make or model, of course not, but it was absolutely gorgeous. Just as Jedediah had said it looked freshly painted - a bright blue with black racing stripes along the sides, clean and crisp and looking brand new. He couldn’t see much of the interior from where he stood but even from here he could tell the seats had probably been re-covered. Slowly, he approached the car, walking around it to get a closer look.

“A 1969 Mustang Boss 429,” Jedediah said on a soft, proud breath. “Found her beat to hell in a junk lot owned by someone who clearly didn’t know what the hell he had. I’ve pieced her together bit by bit since I first got to school, and the paint’s the last thing that needed doing.”

He came up beside the car and ran his hands along the edge of the roof, grinning overtop of it at Octavius who stood on the other side.

“Wanna take her out for a spin?”

Octavius’ breath caught in his throat, a familiar tug pulling at his chest.

“Wanna take her out for a spin?”

Octavius, standing on the opposite side of the blue-and-red car from Jedediah, who was grinning beneath the brim of his cowboy hat with a sparkle in his eyes that Octavius found himself drawn to.

“Will you crash this one too?”

“Dadgum it, Ockie, you know that wasn’t my fault! I had a stagecoach bearin’ down on me - what else was I s’pposed to do?!”

Octavius, chuckling, only teasing. Octavius, grinning widely. Octavius, drawing a breathy laugh and a head shake from his cowboy friend.

“Anyhow, this one’s a real beauty,” Jedediah went on. He ran his gloved hands along the edge of the roof, that spark back in his eyes. “I ain’t never lettin’ anything happen to her, especially if you’re in the car with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I...beg your pardon?” Octavius blinked himself back to the present, shivering slightly in the chill that hadn’t been there in his memories. (Was it a memory? He still wasn’t sure, though it felt like one.)

“I asked if you wanted to go for a ride,” Jed repeated, his head tilted adorably to the side, a half-concerned half-curious furrow creasing his brow. “Not that you have to, but you’re welcome to join if–”

“You’re...inviting me to come?” Octavius’ eyes were slightly wide and there was a warmth in his chest he couldn’t quite identify.

“Well yeah,” Jedediah shrugged. He shoved his ungloved hands in his coat pockets, the cold in the air beginning to chill his fingers. “If you want.”

“I - yes, I do! Absolutely! I’m just...a little flummoxed that you would offer.”

Jedediah blinked at him.

“...why?”

“Because this car clearly means a great deal to you. I would think you would want to share that with someone closer.”

Jed blinked again, then stared off to the side and shifted where he stood, his work boots crunching against the snow.

“...yeah, well, I feel like I can trust you,” he grumbled. “You can say no. It doesn’t matter.”

Octavius wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Jedediah trusted him? They had barely known each other for more than a week or two, hadn’t even spoken until earlier that day. Aside from the odd visions that kept creeping across Octavius’ mind, he knew next to nothing about the other student...and yet–

Jed sniffed and ducked his head, crouching to yank the tarp off the ground at his feet. He started pulling it back over the car, an odd dimness in his eyes that had Octavius reaching out to grab his arm as he came around to his side of the vehicle.

“I wasn’t going to say no,” he insisted quickly. “Though - perhaps another day instead? I still wish to talk about our project today if we can, and afterwards I need to go home and prepare for rehearsal again.”

Jedediah paused with the tarp half-covering the Mustang, a few strands tumbling free from his ponytail in the wind of the afternoon. He glanced from Octavius’ face to the grip on his arm and back again.

“I don’t think I can wait for another day to start her up, but I can give you a call next time I’m fixin’ to drive?”

Octavius smiled.

“I look forward to it.”

And just like that, the spark was back in Jedediah’s eyes.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he grinned.

Jed eased his arm out of Octavius’ grip and finished covering up the Mustang, nodding back towards the garage with his hands shoved in his pockets again.

“I’m guessin’ we can’t do much work tonight what with yer rehearsal an’ all, but why don’t I send you my class schedule an’ such? We can work it out from there.”

“That might work for the best,” Octavius agreed, chuckling. “I admit my own schedule is usually quite full...the life of an honors student in the acting program I suppose.”

Jedediah let out a low whistle as he held the door for his classmate.

“You’re takin’ on all that and a show?”

“I usually do.”

For once, Octavius let a cocky grin slip onto his face. It was true that what he chose to do during his school year was considered impressive to many, though it wasn’t often he let show how proud of that fact he actually was. In this moment though, ‘showing off’ almost seemed like the natural next step of the conversation.

Strange.

“Are you into musicals too?” Jedediah asked once they were back inside. He shucked his jacket and scarf and tossed them back over the table they had been piled on before.

“Sometimes,” Octavius nodded. “I’m majoring in Acting rather than Musical Theatre, but I’ve participated in a few musicals over the past few years here. I prefer acting to singing and dancing if I’m being quite honest.”

“What about that boyfriend o’ yours?” Jedediah asked, now leaning over the Volkswagen’s engine again, and Octavius was grateful that he wasn’t quite within the other student’s view for the flurry of expressions that passed over his face at such a simple question.

“My…? Oh. Er–” He plucked at a button on his coat. “Have you met Lance then?”

“Eh, not technically,” Jed shrugged, still just out of sight. “I saw you an’ him leave together last night and your friend Ahk filled me in.”

Octavius blanched. Ahk filled him in?

“He did?” He wasn’t proud of the squeak in his voice when he said the words.

“Don’t get yer knickers in a twist.” A low chuckle came from beneath the hood of the car. “He just told me Lance’s name an’ that you two are dating. Though that seemed pretty obvious anyhow. You two were bein’ about as subtle as Billy and Fabian, but I guess you ain’t tryin’ to hide from anybody either.”

“Wait, Billy and Fabian are–?”

“–are adorable as all hell, that’s what,” Jed popped out from beneath the Beetle’s hood to grin at Octavius. “An’ I got in on the betting pool on how long it’ll take ‘em to tell everyone else they’re together.”

Octavius’ eyebrows flew skyward. There was a betting pool? My, he was learning all sorts of new things today.

“But that’s not what I asked about,” Jedediah went on, swiping up the pen light from the tool cart beside him and clicking it on, vanishing from sight again. “Is Lancelot a musical kinda guy? He seems like the type, but you’d know better ‘n me.”

Octavius snorted. Musical type...absolutely. Even if he hadn’t been majoring in it, Lance lived and breathed music and drama. It offered a big spotlight and that was something his boyfriend was always quick to step into.

“He is, actually,” Octavius said with a soft smile. He approached Jed slowly, peering around the back of the car to see what Jedediah was working on. “Lance is in a production of Camelot this semester, one that opens two weeks after Julius Caesar. He is - ironically - playing the role of Lancelot. It’s fitting.”

“Wait, so–” Jedediah glanced sideways at Octavius with an amused and incredulous look on his face. “Hold on. You’re tellin’ me that you, Octavius, are in a show where there’s a main character called - ya know - Octavius. And yer boyfriend Lancelot is in Camelot as Lancelot?”

Octavius pretended to think on this, then nodded slowly.

“That does seem to be the case, yes.”

“...who in Sam Hill picks the shows at this school? That’s ridiculous.”

“Or perfect,” Octavius smirked. “Perhaps it was fate.”

“Nah, fate ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Jed plucked a wrench of some kind from the tool cart and began unfastening a small piece of the engine Octavius would probably never be able to identify. “But you say he’s a good fit for that role, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well if he magically turns from a charming and loyal knight-in-shining-armor into a cheating treasonous bastard who decides to betray the King and turn on the whole government, you let me know.”

Octavius stifled a laugh and stared, baffled, at the southerner.

“You know Camelot?”

“Hell yes I do!” Jed said it as if he was offended Octavius even asked the question. “My Ma is a teacher an’ we’ve got about a million books back home. Tons of great stories on adventures an’ such. I think I’ve read about the Lewis and Clark expeditions enough times to recite ‘em by memory.”

Octavius stared, still grinning, and folded his arms over his chest.

“Jedediah Smith, I believe you may never cease to surprise me.”

“Oh I’m an overflowing well of surprise knowledge,” Jed winked.

“Really?”

“Yup.” Finally removing the engine part he had been detaching, he set it aside on the tool cart and reached for a rag. “Didja know I can speak Latin?”

Octavius’ joyous laughter rang through the now-mostly-empty garage. His eyes were shining with mirth, and even now, he could tell this was the start of what would one day become a positively beautiful friendship.

Jedediah ended up going back to Octavius’ rehearsal that night, and the night after that. Between those two evenings they had scheduled a Starbucks project meetup - one that somehow escalated from just Octavius and Jedediah, to Octavius, Jedediah, Amelia, and Ahkmenrah, along with a kindhearted Native American student that went by “Wea” who Amelia had invited along. (Jed had a vague recollection of the two girls having a coffee date the week prior, but he couldn’t remember exactly when.) It started off well enough, Jed supposed. Coffee and chit-chat and a little bit of class talk sprinkled in-between. But then one of Jedediah’s coworkers had come up to the table – “Hey Jed! Did everything turn out okay with that Kahmunrah guy who came in last week?” “CHARLIE!” – and the entire table had devolved into talking about that particular incident for the next ten or fifteen minutes.

“Your brother was doing this?” Wea was asking now, her voice soft and her eyes wide and astonished as she cupped a warm tea between her hands. She sat at the head of the table in a seat beside Amelia, one which the rather excited young aeronaut had immediately gestured for her to take the moment Wea had set foot in the coffee shop.

“Unfortunately,” Ahkmenrah said sheepishly from his spot across from Amelia. “And he is also one to not listen to the suggestions of others, so my attempts at stopping him were basically a moot point.”

Jedediah, who had been hiding his head in his hands with his fingers tangled deep in his hair, grumbled out a muffled sentence down toward the tabletop.

“I still can’t believe that ignoramus actually came to find me at my dang workplace.”

“He did seem persistent,” Octavius agreed. Unlike his friend - they were basically friends now, weren’t they? - he was smug behind his coffee, watching the tortured form of Jedediah sitting across from him with a small amount of mirth. He did feel bad that Jed had had to deal with Ahkmenrah’s less-friendly brother, but now that it seemed like Kahmun was no longer a problem, the entire situation was funny to think back on.

“Persistent is puttin’ it lightly,” Jed groused. He raised his head to level a strained look at Octavius, who hid a chuckle behind his cup. Jedediah reached for his own sugary coffee concoction and took a drink. Octavius gestured to Amelia.

“I suppose you’re only lucky your darling girlfriend swooped in with a kiss to save the day.”

The entire table reacted at the exact same time. Amelia clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, Ahkmenrah choked on the croissant he had been eating, and Jedediah did a spit-take that spewed coffee across the table between himself and Octavius. Wea blinked owlishly at Amelia, her jaw slack, and asked:

“Girlfriend?!”

“Sorry Octavius – aw hell, hold on–” Jedediah was frantically scrambling to snatch up napkins from the table to clean up the mess he had made, but Octavius was already on his feet.

“I’ll get more,” he said, struggling to withhold laughter. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. You - you just sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

The moment Octavius was out of earshot, Amelia and Ahkmenrah both rounded on Jedediah.

“You never told him we weren’t actually dating?” Amelia demanded, a disbelieving grin splitting her face.

Jedediah refused to look at her. He had gone as red as a tomato all the way to the tips of his ears, his focus pinned pointedly on the coffee he was attempting to clean up.

“I assumed you would have,” Ahk agreed hoarsely. He took a few sips of his drink to soothe his throat.

“I would have, if it’d come up,” Jed bit out. “It just hasn’t.”

“Just to be clear,” Wea interrupted, raising her hand to draw everyone’s attention, “you two are not a couple?”

“Hell no!” Jedediah rolled his eyes. “Amelia faked it when Kahmen-ramen came in because nothin’ else would make him go away! So we’re keepin’ up the rumor a bit to keep him at arm’s length and out o’ sight.”

“So yes, to answer your question, I am single. I never lied about that.” Amelia winked at Sacagawea, who smiled and ducked her head, caught in her line of questioning. She stirred her tea idly while Ahk refocused on Jedediah.

“How has it never come up?” he prodded. “It’s been almost a week!”

“It’s been four days tops,” Jed corrected, throwing a coffee-sodden napkin across the table at Ahkmenrah, who dodged it so as to avoid stains on his new sweater. “Besides, we only spoke for the first time yesterday anyhow. Why th’ hell does it matter?”

“Your friends deserve honesty.”

Jed opened his mouth to protest, closed it, then let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The next time it happens to come up, I’ll correct him, alright? It ain’t a big deal.”

“If you don’t, I will, and then he’ll wonder why you lied and couldn’t tell him yourself.”

Jedediah’s eyes flew open and he stared across the table at Ahkmenrah’s calm and unperturbed expression. The Egyption was smiling innocently at him, but Jed was beginning to suspect there was more to Ahk than met the eye.

“You’re scary sometimes, Menkare. Ya know that?”

“Tick tock, Mr. Smith.” Ahk sipped his coffee and reclined in his chair, looking to all the world like the cat who just got the cream.

In a show of perfect timing, Octavius appeared once again beside their table with Jedediah’s coworker Charlie in tow. He had a damp washcloth in hand and was already wiping the table down before Jed could protest.

“What are you doing, trying to make my job harder?” Charlie joked, flicking excess water in Jed’s direction as he left.

“Always,” Jed grinned.

“Octavius!” Amelia spoke up, leaning forward across the table with a smile that Jedediah knew meant trouble. “We were just talking about you! Weren’t we, Jed?”

Octavius, who had only just sat down again, paused to raise an eyebrow at the pair of them.

“Were you?” he asked, curious.

“Sorta,” Jed shrugged. He felt Amelia’s eyes on him and he gritted his teeth. A nuisance. That’s what she was. He kicked at her leg beside him beneath the table. “See, the thing is, I think we’ve got our wires a bit crossed.”

“Oh…?” Octavius’ curious frown deepened ever-so-slightly. “Have we?”

“Yeah, see, I never really said, but me an’ Amel–”

“Larry!” Ahkmenrah said abruptly, and Jedediah blinked, startled.

“Larry?” Octavius repeated, bemused.

“Tavi, look, he’s just outside!” Ahkmenrah tugged at Octavius’ sleeve and pointed, and Jedediah saw something akin to awe and wonder flit across the Egyptian’s face. What in the world…?

Turning to look himself, Jedediah was slightly surprised to see Ahk pointing at none other than–

“Is that Mr. Daley?” Amelia asked, intrigued.

It was, Jedediah realized. Their Western History teacher was making his way toward Starbucks with his collar popped against the chill, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. It was only now that Jedediah remembered the vision that had floated across his mind during Octavius’ rehearsal the first time he was there.

“Larry, what’s done is done. Even the glory of Rome had to come to an end.”

Right...Larry. He had been meaning to check the syllabus for their professor’s first name, hadn’t he? It had completely slipped his mind.

“I forgot his name was Larry,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“You forgot?” Octavius asked, sounding perplexed. “He insisted we call him by his first name at the start of our first class!”

“Yeah, well, I came in late, didn’t I?” Jed shot back, turning away from the window to throw a look in Octavius’ direction. “I got held up by Ahk’s asshat of a brother – no offense–”

“None taken,” Ahk said, still transfixed on the front window.

“–and missed the first ten minutes.”

“Oh, did you?” Octavius paused. He seemed to think over it for a moment. “You know, I do have a vague recollection of that. But then we didn’t know each other yet, did we?”

“S’ppose not,” Jedediah grinned.

There was a screech of a chair being pushed back against the floor.

“Hold my coffee.”

“What–?” Octavius quickly fumbled to take Ahkmenrah’s cup from him as he stood skirted around their table, clearly making his way toward the front of the shop. Octavius’ eyes widened, then he groaned. “Ahk...Ahkmen, don’t do this. Please. Not here.”

“Don’t what?” Ahk asked, spinning around to grin cheekily at his best friend, walking backwards now. “Don’t take a chance on love?”

“Did he just say love?” Jed asked flatly. “Don’t what now? What’s he gonna do?”

Octavius, who had set Ahkmenrah’s cup aside, dropped his head onto his arms in a show of complete defeat.

“Flirt,” he responded, his voice muffled by his shirt sleeves.

“Flirt?” Jed stared, perplexed. “With who?”

Amelia gasped and grinned, leaning forward and lowering her voice as though she had just discovered the most amazing bit of gossip. Which, apparently, she had, because her next sentence was:

“Are you telling me our friend Mr. Menkare has the hots for the teacher?”

Jedediah’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

“Oh, he definitely does, unashamedly so,” Octavius mumbled. “He brought Larry cookies yesterday.”

Amelia erupted into giggles, obviously overjoyed by this new turn of events, and Jed whipped his head back to Ahkmenrah - just in time to see the debacle.

Ahk had still sort-of been walking backwards, and it was only as Jed looked toward him that the other student turned back around - and crashed straight into the object of his affection. The pair collided almost comically not too far from the front counter, Ahkmenrah’s arms pinwheeling and his expression turning mildly panicked in his attempt to catch himself...but he didn’t have to. Larry was quicker, his arms snapping out to catch the younger man before he could even begin to fall, pulling him close to steady him. The pair was suddenly nose-to-nose...and it was only then that Larry registered who exactly had run into him.

Ahk had gone quite pink, his expression turning flustered and his eyes turning affectionate. He smiled sheepishly.

“My savior.”

“Oh my god,” Octavius said flatly. At some point in the past few moments, he had apparently raised his head to watch his best friend. “If that actually works, I may have to rethink my flirting techniques.”

“If it works, Ahkmenrah might be the only person in the world who could pull it off,” Wea countered. She sipped her tea, quietly watching the scene play out.

“Oh...Ahkmenrah. Hi, um–” Larry was stammering, unsteady, but even as Jedediah watched he seemed to regain his verbal footing rather quickly. “Savior, huh? I guess I kind of am. Heh…”

“He’s already doing better than last time,” Octavius muttered, and Jed threw him a raised eyebrow. Octavius clarified: “Last time he was a babbling mess. I think it’s a bit less shocking the second time around.”

“Are you alright though?” Larry went on. He hadn’t let go of Ahkmenrah yet. “You good? That was...that was a close call.”

“I’m perfectly fine, I assure you,” Ahk smiled brilliantly. “I apologize for running into you like that. I saw you come in and - well, to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure where my head was. Perhaps I am really and truly falling for you, so to speak.”

Despite the groans that arose from their table at the cheesy line, it seemed to work, because a moment later Larry was chuckling, grinning, his expression lighting up in surprise.

“That’s - wow. I don’t think I have ever heard someone try to use that line and have it land.”

“Well?” Ahkmenarah tilted his head to the side, curious. “Did it? Land, that is.”

“I–” Larry faltered. He seemed to register where he was, who he was with, seemed to suddenly come to his senses, and he took a step back from Ahkmenrah. It was a few more seconds before he let his hands fall to his sides. “Can I get a raincheck on my answer?”

“Oh, Larry, Larry!” Ahkmenrah said, exasperated but smiling. “I’m not asking for a date, I’m not asking for any big promises here. I just want to know if my pickup line was effective.” A beat. Ahk stepped forward and tapped at the lapel of Larry’s coat. “Well? Was it?”

Larry sighed, stepping back again.

“If I didn’t know you, and if I didn’t have more to think about than just this moment, then - yeah, maybe. Probably.”

Ahkmenrah’s grin widened.

“I’d call that progress.”

“Sit down, Ahkmen! Let Mr. Daley order his drink!” Amelia shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth, and Larry froze like a deer in headlights.

Ahk, of course, didn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. He squeezed Larry’s arm with a wink and strolled back to his seat, leaving a flush-faced Larry Daley in his wake.

“Nicely done, Ahk,” Octavius comments dryly. “You took one step forward and two steps back, all in the span of five minutes.”

“Oh, don’t be so pessimistic,” Ahk scoffed. He draped himself comfortable in his chair and crossed his legs, plucking his coffee from the tabletop. “I’ll have him wrapped around my finger come next semester, just you wait.”

No actual studying of worth got done that afternoon.

By the time their next Western History class rolled around the following day, Thursday, Jedediah had only gotten scraps of research done compared to where he wished he was. Octavius, unfortunately, was in the same boat. Between their unproductive Starbucks “study” session and rehearsal for Julius Caesar (which Jedediah had once again decided to go and watch, and after which he only caught a few moments to talk to Octavius before Lancelot was whisking him away) there simply hadn’t been time. Thankfully Larry was giving them all a large chunk of the class period to work on their projects, shortened only by the fifteen-minute block at the beginning during which he had reviewed their quiz scores. The rest of the class period was spent in the campus library, and while most of their time was consumed by work and research, Jedediah was pleasantly surprised to find that working with Octavius was almost...fun. And that wasn’t a word he often associated with non-automotive classes.

(Granted there were also a few scatterings of new visions and daydreams sprinkled somewhere between blocking out their presentation and organizing citations, but that was a subject he still had yet to figure out how to broach with Octavius...if he even wanted to.)

Spending time with Octavius was fun. He enjoyed it, maybe a little more than he should have, and maybe the feeling was mutual because the growth of their newfound friendship began to spill over into more and more of their freetime. Jedediah found himself looking forward to going to every single rehearsal for Julius Caesar, and come Sunday Jed finally found a good time in Octavius’ schedule to take him for a drive in his Mustang.

“You’ve done a test drive already, right?” Octavius was asking now, strapped into the passenger seat with a half-teasing smile on his face.

“Yessir, I did,” Jedediah grinned. He winked. “This baby’s ready for anything!”

“Why does that phrase give me cause for concern?”

“Hold on tight, Ockie...we’re goin’ full throttle.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jedediah caught an odd semi-vacant expression on Octavius’ face that he couldn’t quite place. Was it nerves? Was it the nickname? He hadn’t really asked if he could use it, but he’d been hearing himself say it so often in his ‘visions’ that it just...felt right.

Brushing the thought aside, Jedediah focussed back on the dark road beyond his dashboard and shifted the car into gear. It was a manual, not an automatic, and if Jedediah was being honest he preferred it that way. He felt more in control, more like he was in sync with the car beneath his hands. It was more engaging, more instinctual, and it relied on skill and an understanding between the vehicle and her driver.

He floored it.

Jedediah has always had a hunger for adrenaline. The thrill of taking a risk, the rush of toeing the line between safe and dangerous. Behind the wheel he pushed past the speed limit, just barely, enough to feel that buzz of excitement but not quite enough to warrant unwanted attention. Beside him, Octavius was gripping the handle above the door loosely in one hand.

“I should have known you would be the type to break the law,” he muttered with a wry shake of his head.

Jedediah laughed.

“If that’s what you’re callin’ this, then hell, I’ll be an outlaw.”

Slowly, Jed eased the gas pedal lower to the floor, the Mustang’s speed climbing slowly. They began to tear through the dark and winding campus streets with reckless abandon. Octavius muttered a few choice swear words from behind an incredulous smile.

“If you get us killed, I will haunt this car in the afterlife just to warn off the next owner from being as thick headed as you.”

“Oh, quit yer whinin’, I’m not gonna get us killed.”

As if to prove his point, Jed took the next turn at top speed, the wheels squealing against the asphalt; he was grateful for the empty streets in this part of campus, as it meant he always knew where to go to take his latest vintage rescue out for a test drive.

Jedediah let out a whoop, a spark in his eyes and a thrilled grin on his face...and out of the corner of his eye he could see Octavius finally finally getting into the moment. The actor had been a little tense up until then, but as the car’s back end swung in a controlled arc around the turn and as the tires found traction again and the Mustang sped off down the street like a stallion from hell, a joyous laugh erupted from the passenger seat. Octavius turned and smiled at him, his eyes twinkling.

“I don’t know if you are aware of this, but you are an absolute madman, Jedediah.”

The words echoed in the back of Jedediah’s head, a very similar cadance and view swimming across his mind.

“I don’t know if you are aware of this, but you are an absolute madman, Jedediah.”

Octavius was in the passenger seat of a somewhat different car, dressed in red and silver, an effervescent expression on his face.

“Oh I’m plenty aware,” he heard himself say. He was grinning, he knew he was. “But you like me better that way, admit it!”

“I admit it does make for a rather entertaining friendship.”

Jed was scoffing, rolling his eyes, snatching up his hat to thwack at Octavius’ arm.

“Entertaining? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Jede–”

“I’d like to think you can come up with fancier words in that Roman brain of yours than–”

“Jedediah, the railing!”

“Jedediah, the van!”

Blinding headlights and a blaring horn and squealing brakes–

Reminiscent of the scene still playing out in the distance in his mind, Jedediah yanked the steering wheel sharply to the right. The Mustang skidded across the road, tires slipping against lingering snow and ice, spinning across the now-vacant intersection.

Focus, Jed. You’ve got this.

Eyes narrowed, Jedediah quickly shifted gears, steering with careful precision, shifting between the gas and the break with expert timing. After what felt like an eon - but was probably only a few moments at most - the Mustang came to a skidding stop in the middle of the road, facing the complete wrong direction but entirely unharmed.

Jedediah’s hands were shaking slightly as he patted himself down and ran both hands through his hair with a hysterical giggle. Oh, thank the good lord… His attention shifted to Octavius, who was staring at him with wide, astonished eyes, his chest heaving with panting breaths. He was clinging to the handle above his head with a grip so tight his knuckles had turned white.

“What…” he choked out hoarsely, “...the hell were you doing?!”

“What the hell were you doing?!”

Jedediah blinked at him, his brow furrowing when the very same words echoed back at him from his own memories. He responded in the same way it played out in his mind:

“I dunno what they call it where you come from, but that’s what we in America call driving.”

The reaction his words caused wasn’t one he had been expecting. Octavius’s breath caught and confusion crinkled at the corners of his eyes, recognition seemingly alighting on his face for the briefest of moments. Then it was gone again, and Jed winced.

“...sorry. That wasn’t called for. You alright there, kemosabe?”

That, too, drew a strange and curious expression from the actor beside him, but this time Octavius just swallowed and nodded, shaking his head. He pried his grip off of the handle and flexed his fingers to return some feeling to them.

“I believe so, yes. Though I should be scolding you, I suppose I should thank you for stopping us from crashing.” Then, scrutinizing: “What happened back there? It was like you couldn’t even see the other driver coming straight for us. It was like you couldn’t hear me.”

For once, there wasn’t a whip-crack response waiting on the tip of Jedediah’s tongue. How in the world could he answer such a question?

‘Oh, it’s nothing much, I’ve just been having weird visions and daydreams that pop into my head sometimes, and I think I might be a cowboy in most of them, and - oh yeah - almost all of them revolve around you too.’

Definitely not.

“I...er…” Think, Jed, think– “I’ve been havin’ a lot of weird déjà vu lately. Somethin’ you said kinda set it off.”

….nice going.

Octavius, to his credit, didn’t look nearly as incredulous as Jedediah had been expecting, but the slightly startled look that hovered behind his eyes was a baffling one to say the least.

“And yet you still drive?” Octavius asked, confused.

“I got distracted by it, that’s all,” Jed huffed. He shifted the car back into gear and shook his head, slowly easing back into the proper lane and starting off at a much more legal speed than he had been before. “It’s not like I’m prone to accidents. I’m a damn good driver most times. My Pa sometimes asks why I never tried to get into motorsports or NASCAR or somethin’.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I like bein’ under the hood of a car about as much as I like bein’ behind the wheel. I had to pick one, and I was already startin’ to collect old cars to fix up. It just made sense to keep on doin’ it.”

Octavius nodded with a quiet hum of understanding.

The rest of the drive (and yes, they did keep driving, and Jedediah did push the speed limit and drift through turns more than he probably should have after the way things started) was much less eventful than the beginning. Jed managed to pull a few laughs and whoops from his passenger, urging the actor on to enjoy himself...and perhaps to try and prove that he wasn’t a bad driver. One bad incident would do nothing to tarnish his road reputation, he made sure of it. But all the while Jedediah kept feeling like Octavius was watching him, scrutinizing him curiously. He caught a few odd thoughtful glances from Octavius out of the corner of his eye, stares that ended the moment Jed turned to try and read the other student’s expression.

What was going on inside that guy’s head?

“I dunno what they call it where you come from, but that’s what we in America call driving.”

Octavius puzzled over the sentence well into the evening, during which he and Lance had scheduled a stay-at-home dinner date at Lancelot’s apartment. His somewhat distant expression caught his boyfriend’s attention a few times, and despite waving it off with a smile and an excuse - “I’m merely thinking of this week’s dress rehearsals. Sorry for spacing out. What were you saying?” - the thoughts cycling through his mind still lingered.

Because unlike in the past, where something Jedediah (or someone else) said preceded a new vision, Jedediah had made his quip about driving after Octavius had heard the very same words in his head.

The van had been descending upon them and Jedediah had been vacant, unfocussed. Octavius had shouted–

“Jedediah, the van!”

–and they had swerved, barely avoiding a disastrous collision. The car had spun, the tires squealing, and in that very moment an eerily similar vision had flooded his thoughts. A car, a near miss, spinning out of control, Jedediah behind the wheel, narrowly avoiding getting trampled by massive animals fifty times their normal size, and himself clutching at a handle above his head with a vice-like grip. Almost identical.

And when they came to a stop, his first instinct was to say the very same thing vision-Octavius had said to his Jedediah:

“What...the hell were you doing?!”

And Jedediah’s response was more startling than anything, because not only did he quip back with something decidedly unfit for the situation, but the exact same words had played in the back of his mind with the exact same cadence and rhythm as the ones coming out of Jedediah’s mouth.

Did he know?

But…how could he know?

And then he had made some excuse about the source of his distraction prior to their spinout being déjà vu of all things? Déjà vu was certainly one way to describe the odd visions Octavius had been having for weeks now...was Jedediah experiencing the same thing as him? Or was it mere coincidence, and was he simply making connections between dots that didn’t exist?

Questions he wanted to ask Jed had lingered on the tip on his tongue for the remainder of their drive, Octavius never quite plucking up the courage to actually bring up the subject of his odd daydreams for fear of sounding insane. But unanswered questions never did sit well with him. He was always a pursuer of knowledge at heart. Without any answers, he was left pondering over the entire situation until long after he left Lancelot’s apartment that night.

Octavius didn’t see Jedediah the following afternoon. It was Monday and he had other classes to attend, plus they had already finished their Western History project on Saturday. Nor did he see Jed in the theater prior to the beginning of rehearsal - though seeing as they were in a new theatre now that dress rehearsals had begun, Octavius supposed Jedediah wouldn’t be as familiar with the layout of the building, even with the crudely-drawn map Ahekmenrah had given him the previous Wednesday, doodled on the back of a Starbucks napkin.

Either that, or Jedediah had other plans tonight. Which was perfectly fine, of course, if not a little maddening - Jed did have a life beyond the theatre, and it wasn’t as if he knew Octavius had pressing questions burning in the back of his mind.

Regardless, Jedediah didn’t show that evening, so it wasn’t until Tuesday’s Western History class that he finally saw his classmate...and asking odd psychological questions when they were meant to be preparing for their presentations wasn’t exactly a normal occurrence. Much to his utter frustration, he would have to bring it up another time.

“You have your notes?” Octavius prompted amidst the chatter of their classmates, all waiting for Larry to arrive. Class was due to start any minute but he had yet to show his face.

“Yup! Got ‘em right here.” Jedediah pulled a stack of slightly worn notecards from his folder. “I’d ask if you’re ready, but you’ve got the acting advantage here.”

“Oh, please,” Octavius chuckled. “Public speaking and acting may be similar, but never assume an actor has full confidence in both.”

“Do you, though?”

“...well yes, but that’s beside the point.”

“Hah! See? You do have an advantage!” Jed grinned victoriously, pointing a finger in his partner’s face. “I knew it. You’re the type.”

“What ‘type’?” Octavius wrinkled his nose, staring at Jedediah’s finger and gently pushing it away with one hand.

“The type to perfect every project an’ over-practice presentations.”

“I–” Octavius blinked and jerked back, startled. Then, sheepish: “...I suppose I am. Is that a bad thing?”

“Aww now, I never said that.” Jed flicked through his note cards, the life and reign of Emperor Augustus flitting past in his hands. “If it means I can rely on you better ‘n most people in here to get a good grade, I’m all for it.”

“Oh, is that all you think I’m good for?” Octavius joked, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “Now I see why you keep me around.”

“Ockie–”

Jedediah’s laugh-laced protest was interrupted by the classroom door being shoved open. Larry was having a little difficulty getting into the room, since - for some reason - he was carrying a large bundle in his arms, covered in a snow-dusted blanket that draped up over his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry–” Larry carefully eased through the door, crossing immediately to the desk and tugging the chair out from behind it with his foot. “Sorry I’m late. I had to pick up Nicky. My ex-wife had an emergency meeting she couldn’t reschedule and - anyway. Sorry. We’ll get started in just a few minutes.”

Nicky? Octavius shared a curious look with Jedediah.

Larry gently deposited the bundle he had been carrying into the desk chair, and the blanket fell backwards to reveal the sleepy face of a young boy, no more than two or three. His hair was a mess of dark curls, and when Larry crouched down to make sure the boy - Nicky - was settled in, Octavius could see that he was still in his dinosaur footie pajamas.

Immediately, Octavius (and Jedediah, apparently) snapped his attention over to Ahkmenrah with both eyebrows raised. He nodded toward Nicky.

Did you know about this?

Ahk, who was getting looks on three fronts from Octavius, Jedediah, and now Amelia, simply returned their questioning looks with a half-shrug and a slow shake of his head. He had no idea. Though based on the expression on Ahkmen’s face, Octavius wondered if that even mattered. He had gone completely doe-eyed, his expression laced with bright curiosity, and a soft, adoring smile had begun creeping to life on his face. God help him, his best friend was a smitten mess.

“Alright!” Larry clapped his hands to draw the attention of the class, standing near the chair Nicky was in with a weary grin on his face. “Let’s get the obvious questions answered first so you can all pay attention during class today. This is my son Nick. He’s two years old–”

“Almos’ t’ree, Daddy.”

Nick’s quiet voice interrupted his father’s words, and a chorus of gentle “awww”s arose from the class. He tugged one hand free from his blanket and held up three fingers. Larry’s expression softened and he chuckled.

“Right, sorry. Nicky’s almost three.” His eyes lingered on his son, a soft, adoring smile on his face, before turning back to the class. “Like I said before, my ex-wife had a meeting come up today that couldn’t be rescheduled, and our usual sitter isn’t available today - so. Nick gets to see what his dad does at work. Right, bud?”

Nicky looked from his dad to the watching students and back.

“You workin’?”

“Uh-huh. That’s right.”

“His’ry stuff.”

“Heh, yup! History stuff.” Larry reached out and ruffled his son’s hair, earning a giggle and tiny, pushing hands that shoved him away. “We’re gonna listen to a bunch of stories, okay? D’you think you can be quiet for me? Just for a little while?”

“Shhh.” Nicky put a finger to his lips, his tiny face one of very serious concentration, and Larry choked back a laugh.

“Good job, buddy.”

Octavius cast a fleeting look toward Ahkmenrah. The other actor looked as though he might melt, his smile positively glowing like the sun and one hand over his face in an attempt to hide it, impossible though that was. Jedediah snorted beside him.

“Here Ahk was braggin’ about having Larry wrapped around his finger...boy, Larry’s kid is gonna have your pal Ahkmenrah eating out of his hand before we even reach the end of class.”

“End of class?” Octavius murmured wryly. “He’s already there. I get the feeling Ahkmen would die for that child if the need arose.”

“Honestly anyone would though. He’s a cutie.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“...so because it just makes sense to start the story from the beginning,” Larry was saying now, “we’re going to present in chronological order of history. Which means whoever had the Founding of Ancient Rome? You’re up first. Go ahead and take a minute to get set up if you need it.”

Two girls stood up at the back of the room - neither of whom Octavius could quite remember the name of - and low murmuring began to build in the lecture hall while they pulled up their presentation. Octavius pulled out his phone.

Tavi: Does this throw a wrench in your wooing plans?

Ahk: Absolutely not. That child is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

Tavi: Is that actually true? Or do you simply have a thing for single dads?

Ahk: t(–_–t)

Octavius glanced back over his shoulder to catch a grinning Ahkmenrah flip him off behind his hand, where Nick couldn’t see. Octavius snorted and shook his head, then went back to his phone.

Tavi: You’re absolutely smitten, you lunatic.

Ahk: I never said I wasn’t.

Octavius heard another phone buzz nearby. Jedediah pulled his cell out of his pocket, glanced at his notification, then immediately snapped his head over his shoulder to shoot Amelia a sharp glare. Curiosity peaked, Octavius raised an eyebrow at him.

“Trouble in paradise? Or do I even want to ask?”

“It’s nothin’,” Jed muttered. He tapped back a rapid reply, then shoved his phone back in his pocket and slouched in his seat. He had gone a bit red in the face and he dragged a hand over his mouth then scratched at the stubble along his jaw. “Just somethin’ I forgot.”

“A tip for romance in general: remembering things your partner says, even if they’re small, can gain you a lot of bonus points.”

“That’s not–” Jed was quick to protest, wincing. “She’s – we’re – gah!” He dug his knuckles into his forehead, as though kneading away an ache. “Listen, I’ll talk t’you about it tonight at the theatre. Alright? I’ve gotta keep my head in this dang project ‘til it’s off the table.”

“...alright,” Octavius agreed slowly, now a little confused.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who had been needing to speak with his friend about something important.

Though he brushed it aside for the moment, he could help but wonder if perhaps Jedediah’s ‘talk’ and his own questions weren’t of the same subject matter? He supposed he would find out tonight at rehearsal.

The presentations went about as well as expected. Jedediah was somewhat grateful that they were placed somewhere in the middle of the lineup - since Augustus’ reign, the period he and Octavius had chosen, was almost dead-center in their curriculum timeline...alongside Julius Caesar, of course, who preceded it. (Jedediah had chosen Augustus as their topic for his name alone, and Octavius had begrudgingly accepted. Imperator Caesar divi filius Augustus...or in his younger years, better known as Octavian. They may not have given Octavius the role in Julius Caesar, but Jed would be damned if he let such an opportunity pass them by.)

As he expected, Octavius was an absolute champion of a presenter. Not that Jed was bad at it, far from it; he could bullshit his way through any situation with enough clever words if he needed to. But it was clear that Octavius was born to speak before a crowd.

About halfway through, something about the way Octavius was speaking caught Jedediah’s attention.

“...and while his second wife, Scribonia, was the one to bear his first - and only - biological child, she was not one he favored, not one he loved. That honor belonged to Livia Drusilla.”

Octavius was the one in charge of presenting on this particular slide, one pertaining to Augustus’ marriages and personal life, and it took Jed a moment to realize Octavius wasn’t sticking to the script. He wasn’t reading from his cards, or even referencing them. He was simply...talking. This didn’t feel purely informational. It felt more emotional, as though he was speaking from the heart, from his own experiences, which - taking into account the fact that Augustus had been alive over two thousand years ago - was a little odd. Was this just...acting? Improv, based on knowledge he had found during their research? Jedediah watched, listened. Curious. Perplexed.

“When speaking of Scribonia, Augustus is often quoted for having said he was ‘unable to put up with her shrewish disposition’.” A wry smile danced across Octavius’ lips. He went on: “But Livia was a woman he fell in love with upon first glance, so the story goes. Granted, they were both married at the time, both in marriages with children on the way, but that didn’t seem to stop either of them. Augustus left his wife behind upon the day of his daughter’s birth and married Livia not two days after her son was born, three months later.”

The slide behind him held specific dates and details, not one of which were making it into the dialogue Octavius was giving for the class.

“Livia was the first wife he ever truly loved...and the last he ever had. She was intelligent, strong, and beautiful...the perfect wife for an Imperator.” Octavius’ tone had turned wistful, melancholy. “Though uncommon at the time, she became an advisor to him, of sorts...a counselor who often offered up suggestions and petitions, sometimes on the behalf of others. She was...a rather clever and forward woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Where most Roman wives were meant to be dutiful and doting to their husbands, she was - opinionated. Unique.”

Octavius trailed off for a moment, a brief moment, and Jedediah caught sight of a look in his eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. Regret? Loss? Whatever it was, it was gone in the blink of an eye, and soon Octavius was jumping right back into the presentation, finally coming back “on script”. There was a brief moment during his talk on Augustus’ daughter Julia that Jedediah was sure he saw that same lost look in the actor’s eyes, but just like the first time, it was gone as quick as it had come.

Strange.

Jedediah had been eagerly awaiting that night’s rehearsal since class had let out. It was Tuesday, which meant he had to rush off to the garage for his shop class just like the week before, and which meant he had no time to speak with Octavius before he went to the theatre later. Unless, of course, Octavius stopped by the garage again...but the odds of that happening were pretty low.

(It didn’t surprise him much when he didn’t see Octavius at all before that evening.)

When he strolled in the back doors of the theatre’s house, his red scarf up over his nose and his hands fisted in his pockets, he found himself automatically searching the mingling actors in the audience and on the stage, trying to spot the familiar dark hair he knew far better than he should, given how long the two hadn’t known each other.

“Looking for someone?”

Jedediah just about jumped out of his skin. He whipped around and almost tripped over his own boots in his rush to stumble back from Ahkmenrah, who was now laughing at his terror.

“God, the look on your face–”

“Can it, Ahk,” Jed narrowed his eyes and shook his head. He tugged his scarf down away from his mouth. “But yeah, since you’re askin’. Have you seen Ockie around anywhere?”

“Is that what you call him?” Ahkmenrah’s eyes sparkled for a moment. Then his grin faded a fraction. “No, actually, I haven’t seen him. Normally he and I arrive together, but he went over to Lancelot’s place after class. He said he would get a ride from his boyfriend since they were both headed to the same building anyway.”

“Ah. Right.”

Lancelot. Jed grimaced. For having spoken no more than a few words to the man - they had talked, briefly, after one of Octavius’ rehearsals last week, and the best word Jedediah could come up with to describe the ordeal was slimy - it was quite easy for Jed to dislike Lance. A quick conclusion to jump to, perhaps, but as far as he was concerned he had seen enough from afar to get a pretty fair impression of the guy.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Ahkmenrah murmured. He glanced back over his shoulder at the door to the lobby, then leaned to peer over Jedediah’s shoulder at the stage. “Mmm...though I do wish he would hurry. Normally he’s one of the first to arrive for rehearsal, and we’re supposed to be in dress today.”

“Guys wore dresses in Rome?” Jed stared. Ahk blinked.

“They – well, yes, of a sort, but – no, I meant–” Ahkmenrah stifled a laugh. “Sorry, dress rehearsal. As in, dressed in our costumes. Though we are wearing tunics and togas, so that’s about as close to dresses as you can get without it being one.”

The door behind Ahkmenrah flew open and none other than Octavius came tumbling into the room, his coat unbuttoned and his rehearsal bag barely hanging off his shoulder. His hair was rather unkept and he looked frantic, his face flushed and his lips reddened and–

–and oh my god. Jedediah spotted a dark bruise against his neck that was absolutely a hickey.

“Oh...my god.” Ahkmenrah didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was giving his best friend a full once-over. “You know you’re going to have to hide that with makeup, right?”

“I’m well aware,” Octavius mumbled. He cast a somewhat embarrassed look in Jedediah’s direction before pinning Ahkmenrah with a pleading one. “Please tell me you have something to hide it.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Ahk smirked. He grabbed Octavius by the elbow and dragged him away, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Tavi, Tavi, Tavi...you know better than this. Honestly. Right before rehearsal?”

“Don’t give me that, you hypocrite!” Octavius hissed. “You can’t tell me you haven’t gone off for a quick snog before an actual show only to show up twenty minutes before curtain without a care in the world. Because you have.”

“Yes, but I can also go from street clothes to full dress in under ten. Name one other person who can do that.”

Jedediah watched the pair vanish backstage with heat in his cheeks, his eyes still slightly owlish from Octavius’ entrance. Even knowing full well that Octavius was in a committed relationship, even knowing that he, Jed, wasn’t even thinking of going after him, there had still been this inexplicable raging fire blazing in his chest the moment he spotted that mark on Octavius’ neck. Whatever it was, it felt as if it hadn’t quite come from him...a bit like those odd visions he’d been having, but more physical. If he didn’t know better he’d call it jealousy...but he wasn’t jealous. Why would he be?

“Hey there Jed, you wanna find a seat?” Billy wandered up the aisle with a lazy smile on his face, effectively drawing Jedediah from his thoughts. He cleared his throat and unwound his scarf from his neck. Everything felt hot.

“Sure.” He shoved the scarf in his pocket and tugged off his gloves. “I’m guessin’ you already went an’ talked to Fabian, right?”

“‘Course I did,” Billy ducked his head with a soft smile. “He looks awful nice in that Roman getup.”

“Does he?” Jed was grinning now, trailing after Billy as the underclassman started down a row somewhere in the middle of the auditorium. “I ain’t seen it yet, but Ahk said somethin’ about togas.”

“Mhm.” Billy nodded. “Togas an’ armor an’ such. I saw it last night. Though I guess you kinda saw the armor already, huh?”

“Yeah, but I reckon it’ll look better with all of it put together.”

“Oh, it is!” the younger student dropped into a seat, dumping his winter clothes onto the chair beside him. “Just you wait! You haven’t seen the set yet either, huh?”

“Not yet,” Jed chuckled. Boy, that kid had enthusiasm. “I think I might survive without commentary tonight though. You’ve talked me through just about the whole show at this point. Might be nice to see it straight through for once.”

“Right, yeah. Sure! But if you’ve got questions still, you can ask.”

“You say that like I wasn’t gonna at some point anyhow.”

Billy tried, then failed, to stifle a laugh, and soon both of them were quietly chuckling away in the dimly-lit seats of the house. Lord above...Jed hoped to god they weren’t this giggly and chatty when it came time to see the real performance, or they’d both get kicked out before they even hit intermission.

Sitting through the entire show with a busy mind left Jedediah feeling antsy. More than once, Billy had reached across to tap Jed’s knee to let him know he was bouncing again. (While that was a fairly regular occurrence anyway, it seemed as though thinking over how to tell your friend you aren’t dating your fake girlfriend, as well as trying not to think over the hickey on said friend’s neck, exacerbated one’s high energy and lack of self control.)

Even as Teddy was going over notes, with the actors gathered at the front of the stage with their various costumes and props, Jed was waiting impatiently for the exuberant director to finish speaking, glancing at the time on his phone screen and back to the stage in brief intervals. On the fifth or sixth time he did this, Billy snickered quietly beside him.

“I dunno what ye’re waitin’ on, Jed, but he’ll be wrappin’ up in a bit. It didn't take too long last night.”

“Eh...right. Thanks.”

Ten seconds later and he was checking his phone again, having already forgotten what time it was last time he checked. Billy threw his bundled gloves at him.

When Teddy finally let the cast go, and when everyone began filtering off the stage to change, Jedediah was on his feet in an instant. He gathered up his coat and scarf and the brown winter hat he had been wearing and clumsily stumbled out of their row, stepping on his trailing scarf once or twice in his haste to reach the stage. Octavius was still in sight but he was at the back of the stage holding his sword, going over a few swift stage fighting movements alongside Fabian and a young man whom Jedediah knew played one of the men who betrayed Caesar. (For the life of him he couldn’t remember the character’s name.)

“...attack low, then high - quick steps, perfect - and then you block,” Octavius’ voice floated faintly across the stage, muffled beneath the babble of retreating and lingering actors. “No no...here...if you angle your elbow a little higher - yes, like that! See, if you perfect that hold, you won’t have to put quite as much effort into the block. You won’t get winded quite so quickly.”

“I should hope not,” Fabian smiled. “I’d rather be acting exhausted when I deliver my next lines than actually fighting for air.”

“Right, we’re feigning a battle, not actually participating in one,” Octavius agreed wryly.

“Thanks for the help Tavi.”

“No thanks necessary,” Octavius patted Fabian on the shoulder and nodded to the other actor who Fabian had been crossing blades with. “We’ve still got a week and a half left. You’ll get it before we open, I’m sure of it.”

Fabian and the other actor - dang it all, what was his character’s name? - took their leave and followed the other members of the cast offstage to the dressing rooms. Octavius, too, made to do the same - but he caught sight of Jedediah before he had even made it halfway across the stage. He paused, his face flickering through a few odd expressions, and for a moment it looked like he might make a beeline for Jed. Then he winced, sighed, and smiled. Crossing downstage so he was within better earshot, he said:

“I need to speak with you, but–” He glanced down at his armor, sheathed his sword, and began tugging at the chin straps on his helmet. “Let me go get changed first. I’ll put my costume away and meet you out here shortly, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, o’ course,” Jedediah shrugged. He grinned. “Don’t want Teddy comin’ after ya for misplaced weapons.”

“You say that in humor, but he really would have my head if I lost any of this,” Octavius grimaced. “You don’t want to see him when he’s irritable. It’s a scary sight.”

“What, that ol’ Teddybear?” Jed asked. He dumped his coat, scarf, and hat on the edge of the stage and glanced around, trying to spot the wayward director. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Let us hope you never have to.” When Jedediah turned back to Octavius, the actor was watching him with a smirk. “I’ll go change. I shall return as quickly as I can.”

Then he was gone, hurrying past a handful of other actors who were already in street clothes and on their way out.

Jed hopped up to sit on the edge of the stage, the heels of his boots knocking back against the stagefront every so often while he waited. In most areas of life, he wasn’t what one would call an impatient man. When working on cars he could spend hours working on the same meticulous repair job. He could fully enjoy an afternoon of doing very little but lazing around in the sun. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like mellow, but waiting even a few minutes for things he knew were approaching made him feel itchy, jumpy. Like he needed to be doing something to hurry whatever it was he was waiting for along.

Scratching at his jaw, Jed watched as a few more students made their way off the stage and out of the theatre, bundled up in their winter clothes and ready to go home. Ahkmenrah strolled out with his phone to his ear, chattering brightly, and a trio of girls followed behind with their heads close together in twittering gossip. Jedediah glanced at his phone a few times, the time seeming to crawl by.

Fifteen minutes.

Fabian appeared, a knitted blue and green hat Jed recognized as Billy’s tugged down over his blond curls. Billy met him at the stage’s edge, smile bright and eyes sparkling, and the pair huddled close in a barely-sequestered corner of the theatre with their foreheads pressed together. Quiet words were passed between them, none of them reaching Jedediah’s ears.

Twenty minutes.

Ahkmenrah sat down beside him, whatever phone call he had been having now finished.

“Waiting for Tavi?” he guessed, and Jed shrugged with a nod.

“Yeah, an’ he’s takin’ a hell of a long time with it,” he grumbled.

Ahk let out a soft laugh.

“Yes, well...it does take longer when you’ve got a full costume to put away and props to set,” he pointed out. He cast the other student an ‘innocent’ sideways glance and smiled. “Though seeing as Teddy is gone - along with most of the cast - I don’t imagine anyone would mind if you went back there to check on him.”

“You reckon?” Jed asked with narrow-eyed suspicion. “How d’you know Ockie won’t get pissed to hell that I went back there while he was changin’?”

“Oh, psh, Tavi’s probably already changed into his street clothes by now,” Ahk waved his words away flippantly. “Go offer to help him organize his props or something. I would, but my ride is here in less than five minutes.”

“Yer ride? I thought you an’ Octavius always–”

“Walked home together? Yes, usually.” Ahkmenrah rested his chin on one hand and grinned at Jedediah. There was a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “But I knew Octavius would be here late talking with you so I made plans.”

“...if I asked what those plans were–”

“Amelia is dragging me to a club with her new friend Wea, and we won’t be back until late. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’m enlisting you with getting my best friend home safely.”

Ahkmenrah’s phone pinged and he hopped off the stage, tugging his bag over his shoulders and making his way toward the door.

“Wait - what about his boyfriend?”

“Lancelot? That arse is out galavanting with half of the cast of Camelot!” Ahk called back over his shoulder. “Now go. Octavius. Props. Help. Goodnight.”

Jedediah gaped at Ahkmenrah’s retreating back. Never before had he met someone with so much chaotic sass, so much cocky confidence, who was still able to pass as an absolute ray of charming sunshine. The man was also a meddling mischief-maker, but in this one instance Jedediah supposed he might as well do what Ahk told him to.

With a breathy chuckle and an incredulous half-smile, Jed hoisted himself up to stand on the stage. He left his things (and the still-cuddling pair of underclassmen in the corner) behind and shoved his hands in his pockets, ducking through the curtains to find his way back to the dressing rooms. He had half-expected the backstage area to be a complete maze. That wasn’t quite the case. There was a worn and faded laminated sign on the wall pointing toward the mens’ dressing rooms, and Jed could already see a large rack of various pieces of armor tucked against a wall of the hallway leading there.

Jedediah began poking his head into doorways, most of them vacant dressing rooms. A few turned out to be bathrooms, and one led to a massive costume room that had to be two stories high at the very least, lined with rows and rows of towering shelves and clothing racks. Closing that door with a low whistle, Jed paused when he heard quiet cursing from a nearby doorway.

Octavius. It had to be.

With his thumbs tucked in his pockets, Jedediah shouldered open the dressing room door and peeked his head around the corner, his eyes dancing over the room until they landed on the still-fully-costumed form of Octavius Gaius.

Octavius was tugging at a fastening along the side of his armor, his helmet dumped in a nearby chair and his expression strained. He snarled and tugged harshly, then let go long enough to scratch at an odd square patch on his neck before reaching for the fastening again. Stifling a snorted laugh, Jed moseyed casually into the room and leaned against the wall just inside the doorway, his arms folded over his chest and a smirk dancing across his lips.

“Need a little help here, Toga Boy?”

Octavius barely paid him mind, too focused was he on the job at hand.

“Romans work alone.”

Jed felt like his breath had been knocked from him. He knew those words, the ones that had been echoed back at him in the very first vision he’d had, in his dreams a few weeks prior. But now, in the moment, the rest of the scene filled in behind his eyes.

“I ain’t workin’ with Toga Boy.”

“Romans work alone.”

Jedediah, slamming the but of his rifle into Octavius’ foot.

“Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt–”

“Yes it did–!”

“Oh!” Octavius’ voice cut through his thoughts. Jed’s head snapped up - when had he looked down? - to meet Octavius’ wide, startled eyes. “Jedediah! I apologize, I didn’t realize - didn’t register–”

“Quit yer babblin’,” Jed rolled his eyes. He pushed off the wall and strolled closer. “What’d I say? Don’t apologize for stuff that doesn’t need apologizin’ for.”

“...you’re right, of course,” Octavius’ tone turned sheepish. “Then in that case I ought to be apologizing for taking so long.” He gestured helplessly to his phone, sitting on the counter in front of the mirror. “Lance called, and since then I’ve been struggling to get this blasted armor off.”

“D’you want help?” Jed offered, one eyebrow raised. “Not that you ain’t capable, but I reckon I’ve got a better vantage point since I’m not wearing the dang thing.”

The response his offer received was immediate. Octavius dropped into a nearby chair and nodded, already raising his arm out of the way so Jedediah could see.

“Please,” he said, grateful. Jed knelt beside the chair with a cheeky grin. “It normally isn’t so difficult to remove. I’ve done quick changes in and out of it before. But I must have done something wrong last time...I was rushing to get back out on stage for the battle scene. Or - perhaps it was mangled during the fighting…?”

“There ya go.” Jed stood up again and leaned back against the counter, his ankles crossed. He gripped the counter’s edge on either side of himself and winked. “Piece o’ cake.”

“What–?” Octavius glanced down, surprised, at the detached fastenings hanging loose from his armor. He quickly pulled the heavy costume piece up over his head and set it aside, sinking in his seat with a satisfied groan at finally being free of the hard and restricting garment. “Thank you. Gods, I was losing my mind trying to get out of that thing.”

Jedediah’s eyes caught on the bottom edge of the red tunic Octavius was left in, noticing without meaning to the way the hem rode up his leg slightly as the actor sank in his chair. A flush rose in his cheeks and he dragged his eyes pointedly away.

“I dunno how you stand wearin’ armor fer the whole show,” he said, trying to stay on topic. “It looks mighty uncomfortable.”

“It can be,” Octavius agreed, his eyes closed. He scratched at the square patch on his neck again. “It isn’t as heavy as genuine armor, but after wearing it for long enough it does begin to chafe at the back of my neck. My tunic doesn’t come up high enough to offer any padding.”

“Mmm.” Jedediah made a mental note of that but didn’t comment. The little square on Octavius’ neck was drawing his attention and he tilted his head, squinting at it. Hadn’t Ahkmenrah had one of those the first time Jed came to the theatre?

“You know, in some cultures it is considered rude to stare,” Octavius drawled.

Caught, Jed blinked and righted himself, but didn’t look away completely.

“Beg pardon, it’s just–” He pointed. “You’ve got somethin’ on your neck. A square bit, right about there.”

“Hm?” Octavius reached up, brow furrowed curiously, to tap the little square Jedediah had been staring at. “This?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah,” Octavius chuckled and sat up, scratching at the spot again. “It’s mic tape residue. We use a specific type of tape in theatre to hold the wires of our body mics in place. Here–”

Standing from his chair, Octavius leaned close to Jedediah and reached past him, behind him, toward the counter, retreating with a roll of grid-patterned clear tape in hand. Jed took it from him curiously and tore off a piece. It was tacky and flexible but thicker than regular Scotch tape...almost rubbery, if he had to put a word to it. Octavius plucked the small strip from his fingers with a huffed laugh and gripped Jed’s wrist, gently pressing the clear tape to the back of his hand.

“Well damn,” Jedediah muttered, eyeing the tape that had blended into his skin somewhat the moment it was stuck down.

“It is more visible up close than far away,” Octavius explained. He stepped away from his friend and propped one foot on the chair he had been sitting in, unlacing his costume sandals to take them off. "It truly is one of the most miraculous and accursed inventions in an actor's arsenal of tools. The right level of matte translucence to hide it from an audience’s view, and strong enough of a hold to stay marginally still through an entire show. But you never quite get the sticky residue to go away on the first try...there's always some left behind. Not to mention it is nearly impossible to reach when it's on your neck or in the center of your back – Gods, I’m not sure if I got all of it from last night’s rehearsal–"

"...I mean, I could help ya get it off, if you want."

Octavius went quiet, hands pausing on his second sandal, his breath catching.

“What did you say?”

“I said I could help you get it off, if ya want,” Jedediah repeated evenly. His own words swam to life in the back of his mind, distant and familiar, but they were just out of reach. He ignored the impending vision and went on, instinctually quoting the same dialogue running through his mind: “It seems a bit mean to make ya go around feelin’ sticky all night when I can help.”

Octavius finally got his sandals off and set them neatly on his chair, turning around to give Jedediah an odd sort of look that the southerner couldn’t quite read. It was as though he was searching Jed’s face for something, looking through him, trying to figure something out. But then he smiled gratefully even as the curious look never left his eyes.

“If you’re really offering, I wouldn’t say no,” he said finally. “Give me a moment - I suppose my toga would get in the way, wouldn’t it?”

Octavius took an extra moment or two digging through his bag for his street clothes to give himself a few seconds to think. What Jedediah was saying...the utter familiarity of it all, the way he was unknowing (or perhaps knowingly?) mirroring the foggy memory playing in the back of Octavius’ mind...it had to mean something, didn’t it? He had already been suspecting something since the late night car ride, but now...this couldn’t be a coincidence.

Even the way Jedediah had entered the room–

“Need a little help here, Toga Boy?”

–and the way it had triggered an automatic response from Octavius himself–

“Romans work alone.”

–and the distant and distracted expression Jedediah had been wearing afterwards when Octavius finally registered that he was standing in the doorway and not just speaking from a memory in Octavius’ mind…

Octavius finally “found” his gray sweatpants and pulled them on beneath his toga. He tugged the red costume piece off over his head and hung it neatly on its hanger, then turned back to face Jed with a hand running through his hair. He went to speak, then paused.

Jedediah was frozen, his eyes trailing down Octavius’ bare chest and his cheeks lightly flushed. His hands, which had still been fiddling with the roll of mic tape, had gone still. Octavius raised an eyebrow.

Wasn’t Jedediah straight? Or so he had thought. Perhaps he had jumped to conclusions too quickly with that assumption…

Not that it mattered. He had a boyfriend and Jedediah had a girlfriend.

“We use alcohol wipes for tape residue,” Octavius said finally, clearing his throat and digging through a few things on the counter to find the package of wipes. “Don’t worry about the spots on my neck, I can get them myself later.”

He held the wipes out for Jedediah to take, and the southerner quickly yanked his focus to the outstretched package with a sharp breath.

“Right.” He took them and pushed away from the counter. Then: “Wait, no, hold up–” Jed squinted at Octavius and shook his head with a scoff. “If I’m helpin’ you out anyway, why in th’ hell would I leave the job unfinished?”

Octavius opened his mouth to protest, paused in thought, then closed it again.

“You make a fair point.” Then, smirking: “You know, for a man who gives off the air of being an idiot sometimes, you simultaneously have the strangest talent of sounding like the wisest man on the planet.”

“Gives off the air of–” Jed gaped at him, spluttering, brandishing a lone wipe in the actor’s face. The distinct smell of rubbing alcohol arose in the air between them. “Now you listen here, Ockie, if you don’t turn around, shut up, and let me get this gunk off o’ you, I’m leavin’ you to suffer. Comprende?”

Octavius bit his lip to stifle his grin, even as a ‘memory’ drifted to the surface of his thoughts.

“Of course, my apologies.” He turned his back and waited patiently while Jedediah tossed the rest of the wipes on the counter and stepped closer. “...or would such a comment even warrant an apology? I am only stating facts–”

A sharp flick to the back of the head cut him off and he chuckled, ducking away.

“Quiet, you,” Jed grumbled. “An’ hold still. I wanna make sure I get all of it.”

Octavius did as he was told, his thoughts drifting toward memories that may or may not have belonged to him, alongside the gentle circular motions of the wipe cleaning away the annoying tape residue left behind from rehearsal.

What had Jedediah said that had started it?

"...I mean, I could help ya get it off, if you want."

Ah yes, that was it. The moment the words had left the southerner’s lips, Octavius had been thrown rather suddenly into a daydream - a vision - a memory - and he had asked Jedediah to repeat himself, primarily because he had been so thrown by his own mind that he hadn’t been able to register what exactly Jed had been offering. (A rebellious part of his mind was also aware that he was quoting his dream-self, his memory-self, and the fact that Jedediah’s next words echoed his thoughts in perfect synchronization had been startling to say the least.

“I said I could help you get it off, if ya want,” Jedediah had said, and now - looking back, recalling - a scene began to take form behind Octavius’ eyes, the same way it had begun to a few moments prior, the first time Jedediah had said those words. This time he allowed himself to indulge in it.

Octavius, his upper body covered in a horrible pink blob-like substance - was it chewing gum? The word automatically sprang to mind, though he hadn’t ever seen such a large quantity of it before - and Jedediah looking on, a mixed expression of sympathy and humor sparkling in his eyes. He was grinning.

“I said I could help you get it off, if ya want. It seems a bit mean to make ya go around feelin’ sticky all night when I can help.”

“Since you’re offering, I wouldn’t say no,” Octavius was murmuring. A faint memory of embarrassment and shame swept through him, alongside an overwhelming surge of gratitude and affection. “Perhaps we should adjourn to my quarters, if you don’t mind - I suppose my armor and tunic shall need to be taken care of separately, won’t they?”

“It’d make it easier to clean ‘em up if ya weren’t wearin’ the dang things,” Jedediah was agreeing, still grinning all the while. Then his expression soured and he was scowling, glaring off to the side at some invisible foe. “If I ever get my hands on the kid what did this–”

“Jedediah, my friend, please,” Octavius was rolling his eyes, a placating hand on his friend’s arm. “It isn’t worth angering yourself over. We’ll have this fixed long before morning.”

Jedediah’s momentary anger fizzled to a low burning ember and he snorted.

“You bet yer Roman ass we will,” Jed flicked up the brim up his hat with one hand. “But mark my words, if we do figure out who did this to ya, there’s not much you could do to stop me from stabbin’ ‘em with one of those fancy swords you’re always totin’ around.”

“You wouldn’t shoot them?” Octavius was asking now, mildly surprised, as the pair made their way toward Octavius’ living quarters.

“Ohhh I would if I could,” Jedediah’s voice had turned low and dangerous, or at least Octavius assumed that was what he was going for. “But it’s damn difficult to get my hands on a working sharpshooter in my diorama and you know it.”

“Ah yes, I’d forgotten.” Octavius was chuckling - trying not to, failing -

(And though it was only a daydream or something similar, Octavius was certain he could feel actual mirth and satisfaction from the spike in Jedediah’s temper that simple reaction caused.)

–and then in Octavius’ home, his armor discarded, his tunic pulled down in the back so Jedediah could reach his shoulders, his neck, the gum-coated dark strands along his hairline–

(Jedediah in the dressing room, carefully wiping tape residue from the fine hairs at the back of Octavius’ neck–)

–and Jed wiping the pink sticky substance away with a rag coated in something Larry had found called WD-40, his hands gentle and his eyes focussed–

(–his hands gentle, his movements meticulous like when he was working on a car–)

–and Octavius wincing when the gum tugged painfully against his hair.

“Quit yer whinin’, Ockie, I’m tryin’ to be careful.”

“I know you are, my friend, and I am very grateful for it.”

“You’d better be,” Jedediah was grinning cheekily behind him, he could hear it in his words. “I reckon not everyone is patient enough to do this. You’re lucky I’m such a good friend.”

“More lucky than most, I would imagine,” Octavius was murmuring down toward his chest, his head bowed to let Jedediah work. He smiled. “You are one of my dearest friends I have ever had the pleasure to make, in both this life and the last–”

A cold trail slithered down Octavius’ back, a single drip from the wipe Jedediah was using, and Octavius shivered unintentionally against the chilly sensation.

“What?” Jedediah asked bluntly, pausing what he was doing to pull the wipe away.

“No no, carry on,” Octavius urged him, drawing himself back to the present and casting a fleeting smile over his shoulder. “I apologize. It was cold, that’s all.”

“Cold? Psh, and here I thought I’d done somethin’ wrong.” Jed scoffed and rolled his eyes but did as he was told. The wipe scrubbed small circles against the center of Octavius’ back as Jed went on. “Quit yer whinin’, Ockie, I’m tryin’ to be careful.”

Octavius went stock-still beneath Jedediah’s hands, his eyes widening a fraction. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it? He licked his lips, his heart pounding, and threw caution to the wind:

“I know you are, my friend, and I am very grateful for it.”

Octavius felt Jedediah’s smooth movements stutter against his back for the briefest of moments, and when he resumed what he had been doing and spoke up again, his voice was unsteady. He was doing a damn good job of sounding normal, but Octavius was certain he knew better.

“You’d better be,” Jedediah chuckled, and Octavius felt something akin to hope blossom in his chest. He wasn’t wrong about this. He couldn’t be. Especially if Jedediah said– “I reckon not everyone is patient enough to do this. You’re lucky I’m–”

“–lucky you’re such a good friend?” Octavius finished for him.

He felt Jedediah’s hand vanish from his shoulder and turned around, immediately locking into his friend’s startled expression. Jedediah was staring at him, his eyes widening at first and then narrowing, searching Octavius as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.

“More lucky than most, I would imagine,” Octavius went on, continuing the dialogue as he knew it. “You are one of my dearest friends I have ever had the pleasure to make, in both–”

“–this life and the last.”

Jedediah finished the sentence with him, looking to all the world like he had seen a ghost.

The wipe fell from his hand.