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The first time around they're called Merlin and Arthur, and there are too many secrets. Secrets like how he manages his chores. Secrets like the glances he steals when Arthur sleeps, because he just looks so much younger; the crease of his brow smooth and the tightness of his mouth gone. Secrets like holding onto each other when nightmares plague them. Secrets like Arthur's right hand on the underside of his jaw and his left tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and Merlin's grip on a burgundy tunic and their mouths moving moving moving together in a dance that promises bruises on their collars come morning. Secrets like whispering "I love you," to a dark room.
Arthur dies in Merlin's arms and Merlin follows soon after.
.
The second time, or maybe it's the third, or the fourth or fifth, their names are Enjolras and Grantaire, and there's a revolution in the streets of Paris. The king still leads painted in passion, his servant the libertine with a soul hardened by the turn of an unyielding planet. Here they do not love, not like they did before. Grantaire will watch as Enjolras burns bright and strong with a heat that warms his soul and scorches his lips, and Enjolras will watch as Grantaire fades into the night and the barricade and the bloody corpses of their friends, strewn across the ground of the cafe where they planned their revolution like props in some macabre tableau. There it will be Grantaire's turn to burn.
"Vive la republique! I am with them!"
They die with their hands clasped together like a promise, like an 'I love you,' like an 'I know,’ like an 'I wish...' when the wish could never come true.
.
The next time around, their names are David Jacobs and Jack Kelly, and David is still the smart one with a tongue made of molten gold and Jack is still the white knight fearless leader they all figured he'd be. In this life, they steal kisses like penny candy; mouths pressed together in dark alleys, on rooftops, in the top bunk of the lodging house. Jack wears red and David can almost see the golden crown resting on his tousled hair.
They love before the sun rises, in those precious moments between dusk and dawn where the world belongs to them and them alone.
This time ends when World War I begins. Jack spends his last moments clutching David's photo. David spends his holding Jack's letter. Neither of them see when the blood stops trickling out.
The first time they can be together, really together, they're called Simon Snow and Baz Pitch and they hate each other until they don't. Until hatred becomes kissing, soft and slow with a fire beneath it all that won't stop saying finally.
They're happy, deliriously, stupidly happy. Like the universe is apologizing to them with each milestone, with the ring on Simons finger, with the smile on Baz's face.
In the end, they suppose they're still tragic. Because Baz doesn't age, but Simon does, and he's forced to watch as sunshine hair turns grey, as bright blue eyes fade. The stars seem to rock him back and forth in front of a tombstone and he can't he can't he can't carry on.
They find him in the morning, draped over a fresh grave with a stake in his chest and a smile on his lips.
.
This time around, their names are Thomas and Newt, and they're as calamitous as they ever were. Because Newt isn't immune and Thomas is and no please, please, he can't die, please no, not again, not agai-
But then Newt is screaming and there's a gun in Thomas's hands and he can do anything but resist that broken voice begging him, please, Tommy. Please.
It's over with a crack.
.
They meet at the end of time and space. Arthur and Enjolras and Jack and Simon and Thomas with Merlin and Grantaire and David and Baz and Newt, holding hands at the edge of the horizon.
"Do you think we'll be quite so tragic this time?" The former asks.
"I just hope we meet," the latter replies.
"We always do."
Far away, across time and space, a little boy is born.