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He doesn’t remember when it all started, only vaguely remembers coughing up a few petals one day and thinking what the fuck, that’s not normal. Which, duh , but he brushes it off. He’d drunk a lot the night before, has a blurry memory of passing by a florists with the crew on the way to the bar, then another blurry memory of feeling something catch in his throat when he walked back to the penthouse with Gav later. So at the time it’d seemed more than likely Gavin had dared him to eat a flower, since he was known to do stupid shit like that all the time.
Except obviously that’s not what had happened.
What had happened was he’d woken up with a killer hangover around noon, gone out into the kitchen to get some coffee or aspirin or anything that would make him feel a little less like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
And there had been Gavin, looking the same as usual despite the fact that he’d been fucking wasted the night before, holding out a mug for him with a knowing smile and he’d looked so pretty .
And the petals had caught in his throat.
That had been nearly half a year ago at least; the beginning of it all, the beginning of his downfall.
And now here he is, choking on full flowers nearly daily, sobbing, screaming for it to just stop. Of course it won’t, he knows it won’t; his feelings for Gavin won’t go away and they won’t be reciprocated.
And he’s not getting the surgery.
He’s thought about it before, thought about it near daily more recently. It would’ve been stupid of him not to. But he can’t. He just can’t.
Jeremy had learned pretty quickly that what he had was something called Hanahaki disease; a rare, oftentimes terminal illness that causes flowers to sprout inside the lungs of a person with the disease who is in love with someone that doesn’t love them back. As their affections increase, so do the flowers inside them, eventually leading them either to a tragic death, a fruitful relationship, or… Getting surgery.
It’s something that’s unthinkable to Jeremy - unthinkable to most people, really - because once you get the surgery done, you can no longer feel emotions.
He’s read up on it a bit before, vaguely understands that Hanahaki disease is fueled by emotions. Affection, longing, even sadness. All of it progresses the disease further until it kills you. The only way to stop it if the person doesn’t reciprocate your feelings is to shut them off for good. No more emotions to feed the disease? You’re cured for life. At the cost of feeling literally anything ever again.
He can’t get the surgery, can’t go on feeling nothing all the time, no happiness, no love, not even anger or sadness. No satisfaction. On the other hand, he can’t just let himself die. He doesn’t want to, especially not the way he’s gonna go. Choking on petals, terrified and alone and feeling like his lungs are going to burn him alive before he even gets the chance to suffocate.
Even now, most of the time his lungs burn. He can feel the flowers deep in there, can feel the petals floating around and irritating his lungs, making them burn until he needs to hack them up. Sometimes it burns so bad that he thinks this is it, the day I die.
Today he’s had it happen twice.
He’s had these moments more and more lately, seconds in which the flowers don’t seem to be budging at all and there’s this curling weight of dread in Jeremy’s stomach because he knows if he can’t get them up, he’ll choke. Eventually something always gives and he’s throwing up petals upon petals into his toilet, but it’s terrifying. Those few seconds where he’s not sure if he’s going to live or die are more terrifying than any heist gone wrong, any time he’s been shot or stabbed or held hostage.
And he’s having that moment right now.
Earlier, when he’d woken up it’d been because his body was screaming for air, petals had gotten stuck in his throat in his sleep and he’d woken up in total panic, thumping his chest repeatedly, then his throat until he’d finally been able to get them out. It’d been awful. It’d been terrifying and it’d put him in such a bad mood, but he’d thought at least that would be it for the day.
But then he’d walked out into the living room later on, and there’s Gavin, sleeping peacefully on the couch, stretched out like a cat basking in the sun. His shirt hitched up just a bit from where he’s stretching his arms up, revealing a small patch of beautiful, tanned skin that makes Jeremy’s brain short-circuit and-
And oh, there’s the flowers again.
He’s out of the living room quick as lightning, racing back to his room so no one can see him shamefully hacking up flowers for Gavin. He only makes it to his door before something catches in his throat and gets stuck, making it impossible to breathe. He can’t think about getting into his room, only making sure he doesn’t choke on these stupid flowers and die right here in the middle of the hallway.
Jeremy pounds his chest, desperately trying to dislodge something in there that might make it possible to breath again, his vision turning blurry as more seconds pass and he gets closer and closer to fainting.
Thump, thump, thump . He beats his chest and his eyes bulge as the edges of his vision turn black. Then he’s pounding the walls because he knows he can’t do this, he knows nothing’s budging under the weight of his own punches and he needs someone .
Thump, thump, thump his hand beats against the wall, slowly making cracks as he hits too hard and his knees are shaking, his head is light and fuzzy.
And then there’s this wild stomping, rushing sound coming back from the living room and there’s hands around his stomach, pulling, pulling pulling over and over until finally, finally.
There’s two full flowers that come from deep within his lungs and his throat, two full flowers which has never happened before.
“-lright Jeremy?” A frantic voice demands, though he’s too busy hacking and coughing and wheezing to even understand that there is someone next to him, let alone decipher their words. A few more petals fly out of him until he stops coughing and starts gulping in air like a madman, desperately trying to get his oxygen levels back to normal while his vision spins round and round.
He’s pulled away from leaning against the wall and spun around to face someone - Gavin, it’s Gavin in front of him - and then there’s hands on his shoulders.
“Jeremy! Jeremy , stop. You’re hyperventilating.” Gavin says after Jeremy’s breathing only gets heavier instead of levelling out and he realises oh yeah, I am . He’s having a full-on panic attack right in front of Gavin and he can’t stop himself. His heart is going crazy and he realises his cheeks are wet with tears. When had he started crying?
“Jeremy, listen to me, Jeremy. Breathe with me. You have to breathe with me, okay? You can do it, it’s alright.” Gavin’s voice is soft and soothing, and though his heart is still hammering in his ears, Jeremy manages to slow his breathing down a bit, trying to match Gavin’s pace. It takes a while to come down from the panic, but eventually he’s able to follow Gavin’s breathing perfectly, and then his breathing is slowly brought back to normal.
“Sorry.” He says with a choked voice, still feeling the tears rolling down his cheeks. He feels vulnerable and weak, like at any moment he could go right back into panic.
“What are you saying sorry for, you knob? You just almost choked to death, I’m not surprised you started hyperventilating!” Gavin exclaims, rubbing his hands along Jeremy’s biceps to try and help calm him. It definitely works, makes Jeremy feel grounded and a bit more safe.
Even though his heart skips a beat in his chest.
“Right,” he says dumbly, “You’re right, I wouldn’t care if it was you, I just… I don’t know, I felt like I had to apologise.”
Jeremy leans backwards until his back hits the wall, then rests his hands on his knees, feeling shudders run through his body. He almost died. He almost died and Gavin had saved him, but if he’d been alone-
“It’s alright, I understand.” Gavin’s voice breaks through his thoughts and suddenly he can see his face beneath him because Gavin’s crouched over, hand rubbing circles on his back while he looks up at him with a concerned expression.
“Fuck,” his voice comes out like a sob, “I almost died. If you hadn’t-I wouldn’t’ve-and I would be- and you saved me, Gav.”
Gavin looks a little sheepish, but still smiles up at Jeremy. “Yeah, I guess I did…” he says softly, “Jeremy, why did you-”
But Jeremy cuts him off before he can finish his question, knowing what it’s going to be and knowing that it would be impossible for him to answer. He can’t tell Gavin. “Sorry, could you get me some water, I can’t-” He coughs a little, his throat still feeling raw and his lungs still burning. It’s not a lie; he really does need a glass of water.
Then maybe a shot of whiskey for good measure.
“Of course, Jeremy.” Gavin says, then he’s off to the kitchen to go grab him a glass and Jeremy’s quickly reaching down to grab the crumpled pink Camellias up and bring them into his room to throw away. He doesn’t want to give Gavin the chance to see them again, maybe understand what they are and what they mean.
He steps back out as Gavin returns with his water, graciously accepting it from him. “Thanks.”
Gavin watches him carefully while he drinks and Jeremy has to think fast; sipping slowly both so he has more time to think and so he doesn’t accidentally choke. He could try and play it off like Gavin’s hallucinated the flowers, or that he didn’t actually throw them up right in front of him, but he has a feeling Gavin probably won’t buy it.
Before he can properly make a decision on how to handle this, though, the water in his glass is gone and he’s out of time. “Jeremy-”
“Don’t. Please. Don’t ask.”
He can’t look at him, can’t meet Gavin’s eyes when he knows the moment he sees the confusion and concern in them he’ll break down and tell him everything. When he knows that once he does, Gavin will be sympathetic and understanding, but he won’t reciprocate Jeremy’s feelings and then it’ll be real , he’ll be dying.
“What do you mean-”
“Please, Gav-”
“I just wanna know why you’re out in the hallway throwing up bloody flow-”
“ Gav ,” Jeremy pleads, finally looking up to meet his eyes as his shoulders slump, “please just drop it. Thank you for, y’know, saving my life and all, but now I just wanna go lay down and take a fucking nap. Sleep off all this stress.” He presses his glass back into Gavin’s hand when he doesn’t seem to have a reply and quickly slips back into his room, turning the lock behind him.
He waits; waits until he hears Gavin’s footsteps, then waits some more until he hears conversations in the distance and laughing and squawks before finally taking a long, shaky breath and sliding down against the door.
That was too fucking close.
~~~
It’s a little over a week later when it happens again.
Gavin’s been acting like nothing’s happened apart from the occasional curious glance when Jeremy clears his throat during meetings or stifles coughs. He’s grateful, glad he can at least prolong this a little longer, glad he has a little more time before everyone notices, figures out what’s happening and holds a fucking intervention for him or something equally as stupid.
But of course, even if the others never notice, there’s no way he can prolong the flowers spreading in his chest. He feels them near constantly now, has gotten used to the familiar rattling in his lungs, the familiar tickle in his throat. It feels like he could cough up a full flower on command if he wanted.
Still, even if he’s used to it, that doesn’t mean he isn’t caught off guard sometimes, doesn’t mean he’s completely fine when Gavin smile that stupid, soft, sweet smile at him, or when he babbles on and on about something then gets that shy look when he realises he’s been talking for a while, or when he blushes when he catches Jeremy staring.
So it was only a matter of time, really, before he had another moment where he couldn’t hold the petals at bay, where he couldn’t stifle his coughs or rush away to go throw up flowers in the privacy of his own bathroom.
He’s hanging out playing Spyro in the living room one afternoon, relaxing for once and minding his own business when he’s surprised suddenly by arms wrapping around his neck and a weight resting on his back. For a moment he panics, thinks someone’s broken into the penthouse and is trying to strangle him —which would be so fucking ironic— but then he notices the glint of a familiar golden watch on an even more familiar arm, and then he smells Gavin’s cologne and he sighs. Of course.
“‘Sup, Lil’ J, what’re you up to?” Gavin’s voice is full of energy as usual and Jeremy can’t help but smile and roll his eyes fondly.
“What’s it look like? Spyro,” he answers, shoving Gavin’s hands off him and ignoring the flutter in his chest as their fingers brush, not sure if it’s his heart or the petals anymore, “What’re you up to, Gav? I thought you and Ryan were going out to talk with that Demarco guy?”
Jeremy looks up as Gavin comes round the sofa and flops down next to him, quickly adjusting himself so his head’s in Jeremy’s lap and his feet are dangling off the armrest. He shrugs. “Ryan said he wanted to talk to the bloke alone, so I decided to stay here, wanted to do some more digging on security for the new heist. Got bored pretty quickly, though, so I came to say hello.”
“Sounds about right,” Jeremy says with amusement, trying not to focus on the fact that Gavin’s in his fucking lap holy shit what does he even do , “shoulda’ gone to Michael, buddy. I’m not gonna be much fun when I’m just gonna sit here playing Spyro all day.”
He looks pointedly at the screen in front of him instead of down at Gavin when he knows their eyes will meet and Gavin will be looking at him with that stupid smile and he won’t be able to take it.
“ I think you’ll be fun. Even if you play Spyro all night and don’t even look at me. You’re fun just to watch.”
For some reason, that’s it for Jeremy; just hearing those words catches him off guard because they sound so fond , so full of affection, so warm and kind and he can’t fucking take this.
He’s dropping the controller before it can really hit him that he’s choking, somehow prepared for this even though he’s been caught off guard because he just knows that if Gavin’s around now, it’s something inevitable. As long as Gavin’s here it’ll never end.
It’s all sort of a blur, how it happens; he remembers the sound of the controller hitting the floor, remembers his hands flying to cover his mouth as his body convulses, trying to eject the flowers from within him. He remembers Gavin sitting up immediately, remembers getting thumped on the back before arms are wrapped around his middle again and there’s a few hoists before he hears Gavin’s panicked voice swearing. Jeremy’s eyes are wide again as he realises it’s not working, the flowers aren’t budging even with Gavin giving him the heimlich.
There’s tears running down his face, both just from the effort of trying to cough up the flowers and from the terror of choking and he hears Gavin practically scream at him to open his mouth.
He does it, though it’s more sort of automatic and like someone else is controlling his body; he’s numb to everything—even his thoughts—because he knows, he just knows this is it. It’s been getting worse, he’s been choking daily, he’s been close to death so many times he can hardly remember them all. He knows if it’s not this time, it’ll be the next.
The next part is even more blurry, something he only vaguely remembers. He knows it happened, but he can’t picture it, can’t picture seeing Gavin move in front of him and stick his hand into Jeremy’s mouth, can’t remember how it felt to have someone else’s hand reach down his throat and root around until fingers clasped around petals and pulled.
It’s awful. Thinking about it is awful. Remembering it is awful. Wondering about how Gavin felt in that moment is awful, yet he can’t stop. Can’t stop thinking how if he’d had any chance before, he certainly didn’t now.
Gavin pulls out a crushed pink Camellia, then hits him hard on the back until Jeremy coughs up another two and a mountain of loose petals. It feels like forever that he sits there, coughing out more and more petals, sobbing and heaving and retching, trying to get it all out. For a moment he wonders if it might have been better to just die. Anything had to be better than this feeling.
“It’s okay, Jeremy, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Gavin’s voice slowly filters in as he starts to get air again and he realises he’s just repeating the words over and over again, rubbing his back soothingly.
When he can’t cough up anything more, Jeremy lets himself slump into Gavin’s embrace, sobs wracking through his body as he lays there, pathetic and weak. Gavin just repeats those same words, wrapping his arms tightly around Jeremy and hushing him.
“I’m gonna fucking die.” Jeremy says eventually, the realisation finally hitting him that this isn’t something that’s just going to go away or even stay the same. It’s not just a nuisance he can live with, it’s a disease that will kill him. Maybe not today, but someday soon.
He doesn’t hear what Gavin says to that, just continues sobbing and buries his face in Gavin’s shirt to ride it out.
The only thing left grounding him is the firm press of Gavin’s hand rubbing circles on his back.
When he finally calms down minutes later, he knows there’s no avoiding this. He’s going to have to come clean.
“Jeremy, we need to go see Kdin, can you stand up?” Gavin asks and Jeremy wants to say no, wants to stay wrapped in Gavin’s arms, wants to continue to feel safe.
“Yeah.” He croaks instead, his throat raw and extremely sore. Gavin helps him up, keeping his arms around Jeremy and taking on some of his weight when he wobbles. When they start walking, they take it slow, Jeremy still out of it and needing to rest on Gavin to make sure he doesn’t trip over himself and fall. It’s terrible, he feels pathetic and vulnerable, feels ashamed that he can’t even fucking walk properly anymore, but there’s no helping it. He can’t even think properly after what just happened; probably in shock.
It takes a while, but eventually they make it downstairs to Kdin’s level where they find her in her office. He sort of tunes out their conversation, lets her examine him, does whatever she says but stares at a crack in the wall across from him and lets his thoughts turn into white fuzz.
“Jeremy, you listening?” He snaps back to attention at Kdin calling his name and nods, turning to look at her finally, “good. Look, you’re in shock right now, but I have some questions if you think you’ll be up to answer them.”
Jeremy nods and swallows heavily, trying to get rid of the raw feeling in his throat. He can still feel Gavin’s hand on him.
“Okay, first of all, do you know something called Hanahaki Disease?”
“Yeah, I have it.”
Kdin nods like she’d expected him to say that, and Jeremy feels the hand move from his back.
“I thought so. You’re so far along it’d be impossible not to know. Alright, second question; how long have you had it? Do you know?”
“I think around seven months, I don’t really remember the date.” Jeremy says, barely registering the sound of surprise Gavin makes next to him.
“Seven months,” Kdin repeats back, looking a little taken-aback before she starts scribbling down some notes on a piece of paper, “that’s… An unusually long amount of time, Jeremy, most people either get the surgery or… You know, pretty quickly.” She continues writing and Jeremy finally starts to feel the fuzz leave his brain. He can almost think again.
“I know, the doctors told me… I’d probably only have a month or two. Guess I proved ‘em wrong, huh?” He jokes weakly, Kdin looking up at him immediately with a pointed stare.
“You did. Jeremy, I don’t think you realise how lucky you are, most people don’t make it more than a couple months, for you to wait so long to get the surgery is completely reckless, and I won’t let you-”
“I’m not waiting,” Jeremy interrupts, feeling suddenly nervous under both Kdin and Gavin’s gaze, “I’m not… I’m not waiting, because I’m not getting the surgery.” He doesn’t need to look at her to know just how shocked she is.
“Jeremy… If you’ve had it this long then I’m guessing you know the other person doesn’t… If you don’t get the surgery, you will die.” She says, suddenly getting very close and gripping onto his shoulders. He feels like crying all over again.
He knows. He knows, he knows , has known for so long that Gavin won’t ever return his feelings, has known that getting the surgery is impossible and that his only option is to wait until the flowers consume him. But a small part of him had always just hoped , hoped that maybe he could ride it out and make the feelings go away, or maybe find some other way to get rid of the disease without completely removing his emotions. He’d hoped for something .
“I know.” Is all Jeremy can answer with, because he does. He knows completely, without a shadow of a doubt, that he will die and there’s no last minute solution, no easy fix to this impossible problem.
“Jeremy!” Gavin exclaims at the same time Kdin gets this weird look on her face and turns away from him, “Jeremy, you’re not going to just die , why won’t you get the surgery? Is it dangerous? Is there side-effects? Whatever it is, it’s better than dying , better than just sitting there and doing nothing -”
“You think I’ve been doing nothing? I’ve been trying my hardest to make these feelings go away, trying to distance myself, trying to-” He can’t even finish the sentence, a sob ripping through him as tears start pouring down his cheeks again and his hands start shaking.
“Jeremy, I don’t understand-”
“Gavin,” Kdin’s voice feels far away, like he’s deep underwater, straining to hear and make sense of her words, “Hanahaki Disease, do you know what it is?”
The petals rattle in his chest again. Gavin shakes his head.
“It’s… You ever hear the term ‘love-sick’? This is where it comes from. When someone with Hanahaki Disease loves someone who doesn’t love them back… Flowers start sprouting in their lungs. They just keep growing and growing until… Until you can’t breathe anymore. Eventually you just choke. The only way to fix it is if the person returns their feelings. The symptoms will stop if the person with the disease stops having feelings for them, or… Gets the surgery, but that’s not really a cure. They can have feelings for another person again and the disease will come back, or with the surgery…”
Jeremy whimpers, then starts to cough again, the petals catching in his throat. They feel dangerously close to filling him up, like they’re just one petal away from blocking the air in his lungs and finally killing him.
“What’s wrong with the surgery? Why won’t he get it? What does it do?” Gavin’s voice sounds all weird and wobbly, full with emotion Jeremy can’t place.
“The surgery… Hanahaki Disease relies on emotions to grow, it relies on the sadness, relies on the love and the longing and the jealousy. It relies on all of it. The surgery… Takes that away; it takes away your emotions.”
Jeremy coughs.
And coughs.
And coughs .
And then there’s a pretty, little, pink Camellia nestled in the palms of his hands.
~~~
Kdin let’s him go after that, he doesn’t need to say anything else to convince her that he’s made up his mind and won’t get the surgery no matter what. She knows nothing she says will matter.
Gavin takes him back to his room and helps him into bed, his face oddly pale and strained. Jeremy’s glad for the help, still out of it and exhausted as fuck . He doesn’t think he can do this much longer.
Maybe it would be easier to just off himself and get it over and done with already.
“What are you doing?” He asks, after Gavin leaves the room for a few moments and returns with a blanket and some pillows.
“I’m not letting you sleep alone, J. You might- You might get lonely without me.” Gavin’s voice breaks a little, but he puts on a brave smile and Jeremy can tell exactly what he’s thinking. He’d almost slipped up and said ‘ you might die if I’m not here to save you’ . He feels pathetic.
“Gavin, I promise you, you don’t need to stay in here with me. I’ll be fine, I always am.” He says, aiming for reassuring and calm, though he’s not sure he makes it because his voice is pretty weak and he can’t even sit himself up.
“Until you’re not, Jeremy. I’m not letting you sleep alone tonight, you can’t change my mind.” Gavin says sternly, then lays out his blanket on the floor and starts arranging his pillows.
He wants to tell him to go, wants to scream at him that it’s his fault Jeremy is like this, wants to kick him out and tell him not to come back.
He wants him to stay even more.
“Fine,” he says eventually, since Gavin’s already made the decision for him, “but… Come sleep here, dickhead, I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor when there’s plenty of room next to me.” He lifts his duvet up for Gavin, shuffling to the edge of his bed until he’s pressed against the wall. For a moment Gavin looks at him like he’s suddenly grown a second head or something, then — for just a second — looks like Jeremy’s asked the impossible of him, like he’s just asked the worst thing in the world and he doesn’t know how to respond. But then his expression flickers back to normal and he’s giving Jeremy a tired smile.
“Thanks.” He simply says, bringing one of his pillows with him as he climbs into bed.
For a moment, Jeremy’s left reeling with no sense of what to do. He’s the one who told Gavin to sleep next to him, but now that he’s here he’s realised that he has no clue what to do with his hands, how to lay, how to fucking breathe for god’s sake. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to wrap his arms around Gavin, if he’s supposed to move as far away as possible or if he’s just supposed to act like this is completely fucking normal and not freaking him out whatsoever.
Eventually, when Gavin finally settles facing him with his head on his pillow, hair soft, delicate and beautiful, eyelashes blinking at him slowly, Jeremy makes a decision and decides fuck it . He wraps an arm around Gavin’s waist, tries to ignore the small noise of surprise he hears as he shuffles just a bit closer until their chests press together.
It’s nice. Like, really fucking nice. Gavin’s warm and soft and feels so small in his arms despite the fact that he’s got a good five inches on Jeremy. They’ve never been this close before.
His heart is hammering pretty hard in his chest, but the urge to cough surprisingly isn’t there anymore. It feels good, he feels… Calmer, somehow.
“Hey, Jeremy?” Gavin’s voice is small, soft and maybe a little bit vulnerable. His heart flutters as Gavin’s fingers trace circles on his bicep and he watches the way his eyes flit nervously about, avoiding Jeremy’s gaze.
“Yeah?”
“Who do you… Who is it?” Gavin asks after a moment’s pause, voice hesitant. Jeremy avoids his eyes uncomfortably and sort of frowns for a minute while thinking.
“You wanna know who I love,” he states, then receives a nod in response, “I can’t- I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.”
Gavin frowns, and his fingers sort of still for a moment, but then his thumb just starts rubbing along his skin, back and forth. “Why not? I won’t laugh, I promise. I mean, really I won’t.” He says and laughs a little bitterly. It makes something weird flare up in his stomach.
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Jeremy sighs, “I know you wouldn’t. I just- I mean there’s no point anyway, is there? There’s no changing anything now.”
“They really don’t love you?”
Jeremy actually considers it, for a moment, wonders if there’s a chance he’s gotten it wrong and that he could even stand a chance with Gavin, but he knows. He knows he’s not good enough for Gavin.
He knows nobody is, Gavin never dates anybody . He flirts with everyone, is close with everyone, likes to make people laugh, likes to shake things up and find new things to try. He likes surprises, likes making people uncomfortable and making them squirm, likes getting to know how they work, which buttons to press. He likes taking people apart and figuring out all their wants and needs, all their secrets and shames.
He knows all of this from experience, has seen firsthand exactly how Gavin works, but he also knows from everyone else in the crew telling him. He’s been warned many times, been given sympathetic looks, seen them watching him with concern as he dances around Gavin, always so eager to please.
He’s not subtle about it; he likes spending time with Gav, likes making him laugh and likes making him angry and likes hoisting him up onto his shoulder when he’s being annoying and needs to go have a time-out. He likes flirting, likes being close to him, likes ruffling his hair or giving him a light shove every now and then. And he can never get his stupid grin off his face whenever he even sees Gavin, so of course they know. The only one who doesn’t is Gavin himself.
Probably because he’s never thought about it, never even conceived the idea that Jeremy could possibly have feelings for him. He thinks of him purely as a friend and nothing more and the thought would never occur to him unless someone pointed it out.
“I’m pretty sure, yeah.” Jeremy laughs, his grip on Gavin tightening just a little. As much as the conversation hurts to have, he wishes they could stay like this forever. He wishes he didn’t have to worry about the fact that he’s going to die soon, wishes he could just keep Gavin’s touch on him forever so he could memorise in perfect clarity exactly how his fingers feel, how his hands feel, every freckle and mole, every hair, every bump or crack in the skin.
“‘Pretty sure’?” Gavin repeats, “what, they tell you maybe or something? You can’t be ‘pretty sure’, they either love you or they don’t.”
“Well then they don’t, I don’t know!” Jeremy snaps, but deflates immediately, “I… I haven’t told them, Gav. I haven’t told them because I know they won’t return my feelings and I don’t want- I don’t want it to be real , I don’t wanna die knowing that the only person I-”
“Jeremy. Jeremy, you idiot, you need to tell them! I can’t believe you haven’t, what if they actually do love you and you’re just sitting here suffering and dying for no reason? And what if they do love you and you do die? They’d be so hurt, they’d think… They’d think you never loved them and they lost you! But more than anything, I think… I think you need closure, before you die — if you die — you need to know. One way or the other.”
Jeremy doesn’t have an answer to that, he knows Gavin’s right, knows there’s no argument for anything he’s said. He doesn’t want to die not knowing, not really. Sure, it’s gonna suck to hear Gavin reject him, let him down easy and apologize because he’s just too nice not to, but he needs to hear it. He needs to accept it before he dies, so he can at least have some peace.
“You’re probably right,” he says, and feels all the tension leave his body, “I’ll do it in the morning, right now… I need some sleep.” He gives Gavin a tired smile, then pulls him close. He at least wants tonight, wants to revel in the safety Gavin’s embrace provides, wants to feel all warm and comfortable, wants to memorise what it’s like to have Gavin touching him like this, what it’s like having him so close.
Gavin doesn’t say anything else; he hears his breathing slowly even out and though Jeremy’s eyes start drooping, he forces himself to stay awake as long as he can. He drinks in Gavin’s scent, rubs his hand along his back and then slowly, gently runs his fingers through his hair, careful not to pull so he doesn’t wake Gavin up.
It’s like heaven, feeling his heat, hearing his slow breathing, watching his relaxed expression in the dim light of his room. Jeremy hasn’t felt this happy, this comfortable in months.
Eventually, he loses the fight against sleep and it takes him. He doesn’t dream, his eyes just close one second, then hours fly by like nothing.
The spot next to him is cold when he wakes, the sun only just peeking over the horizon and soft light filtering in through his window. Gavin is gone.
For a moment, he’s just blearily confused, his brain only just restarting, when- Oh, Gavin’s gone.
Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything else, Gavin didn’t even know about Jeremy’s feelings, of course he wasn’t just going to stay and let him hold him all day, he’d probably thought it was weird how Jeremy’d clinged to him all night.
He probably thinks Jeremy is weird-
And, oh. Oh.
The familiar feeling is back, flowers catching in his throat. This time, he knows. He can feel deep in his chest that there’s no room anymore, they’ve filled him completely, his love for Gavin overflowing inside him so much that it’s going to kill him.
He can barely choke this time, only managing weak coughs and squeaky noises as his eyes tear up. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell Gavin how he felt.
Jeremy’s chest burns, his brain goes haywire and his scrabble around for purchase on the sheets, needing some sort of comfort while he accepts his death. There’s nothing left to do, there’s no coming back from this.
He’s going to die.
At least he got to feel what it was like to hold Gavin in his arms, got to run his hands through his hair and pull him close, feel him against his chest.
That alone is enough. It’s enough.
He chokes and grips the sheets tightly, staring up at the ceiling as he tries desperately to ignore the alarm bells going off in his head and instead focus on what Gavin’s breath felt like on his neck, what he smelt like, what he looked like as he slept. Maybe it’d been creepy of him, maybe he really is weird and maybe Gavin would hate him if he ever figured out Jeremy’s feelings — maybe the others would tell him, if he asked — but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to wonder if Gavin might hate him as he dies.
He’s right on the edge of passing out, his vision blurry, his brain struggling to function with the lack of oxygen, when-
When suddenly Gavin’s walking out of his bathroom, looking nonchalant and relaxed, and oh, Jeremy’s kind of an idiot, isn’t he? He’s gotten himself all worked up — to the point of dying — when Gavin hadn’t actually left him, he’d just gone to the fucking bathroom -
“Oh, Jeremy!” he practically screams when he notices Jeremy not breathing, “I’m so sorry, I thought if I was just quick- I never should have left you alone-”
There’s tears in his eyes as he tries to get Jeremy to sit up so he can hit his back or give him the heimlich, but Jeremy just pushes his hands off weakly, trying to convey to him that it’s pointless. It’s all pointless, it always has been.
“What? Jeremy, no! No, Jeremy!” He sobs, sounding almost hysterical and trying to pull him more forcefully.
Jeremy lets him pull him up, but he lets his hands cup Gavin’s cheeks, letting himself just look at him, letting himself relish in this indulgence. Gavin’s face is soft and yeah, it’s wet with tears, but he’s always been so beautiful to Jeremy. He’s always been gorgeous and perfect and just- Gavin.
He lets himself have this, lets his thumbs brush over Gavin’s cheeks as he drinks him in, drinks the moment in. Honestly, he wants to kiss him, wants to know what Gavin’s lips would feel like pressed against his own. But that wouldn’t be very fair to Gavin, he doesn’t want to force something on him that he doesn’t want.
So he just stares at him, lips trembling, still trying to gasp for air as his thoughts turn to white fuzz. He tries to get across to Gavin how much he loves him, has always loved him, tries to pour all his affection into one simple look and slowly, slowly sees the light switch on in Gavin’s head.
“Oh,” he says, placing his hand over Jeremy’s on his cheek, and he starts to smile sadly up at him, resigned to his fate because Gavin knows now, at least, “Oh, Jeremy , Jeremy you great, big, sodding idiot! ” Gavin sobs loudly one last time, and then he’s leaning in, not giving Jeremy a chance to react to the insult before-
Oh.
Gavin’s lips touch his, gently and sweetly and even though he can taste his tears, it’s the nicest feeling in the world. It’s like everything just stops, like his body starts melting and time around him just freezes, the only thing existing is Gavin’s lips pressing against his.
And then he breathes again.
It’s a funny feeling, having his lungs stuffed to the brim one minute, then the next it’s all coming tumbling out and he can finally fucking breathe .
He has to break away from Gavin — which is probably the worst thing in the world right now and Jeremy would be so pissed if he wasn’t so relieved not to be dying — and he coughs up a fuckload of flowers right on his new bedsheets, too, but eventually every last petal is gone. It’s all just… Gone.
His lungs have never felt so clear — or maybe they had and he’d just never noticed, but either way it’s never felt this good to breathe before. He drinks in lungfuls of it, laughing almost hysterically as Gavin holds onto him before he finally feels safe to look back up and connect their lips again.
“Gross, Jeremy! You’ve got spit all over your face!” Gavin groans, but he only pulls away for a moment to wipe some of it off with his sleeve before diving back in.
Jeremy laughs against his lips and wraps his arms around Gavin’s waist, pulling him closer until he’s in his lap and eventually he manages some self-restraint to pull back. He has so many questions.
“I thought you didn’t- everyone told me you never date and you never… You never treated me any different.” Jeremy’s voice is still hoarse, but it’s full of wonder.
“I haven’t dated since I got to LS, but… I’m just too nervous, I always second guess myself and I can never make the first move. I guess everyone just assumed, but if you had asked-” Gavin cuts himself off, his hands moving to cup Jeremy’s face now as he pulls him in for another kiss, “well, I would have told you I liked you from day bloody one, Jeremy. And I do treat you different! I make you breakfast all the time and I take you out for drinks and I text you hearts in every single message!”
“That’s not- Okay, I thought you just did those things with everyone, two of those things are completely normal and the hearts thing… I don’t know, I thought it was just a Gavin thing!” Jeremy defends himself, though unable to stay annoyed with him or even himself for very long as he tugs Gavin back to press their lips together again.
“Well it’s not, that’s my way of flirting, you knob. I was trying to be obvious, I kept looking at you with love in my eyes, Jeremy, love in my eyes!” He says, as if that’s totally normal and something Jeremy would even be able to see.
“‘Love in my eyes’ he says, I don’t know what the fuck you mean, idiot,” Jeremy teases, “and you were totally not being obvious. You know what’s obvious? Me always touching you and smiling at you and calling you ‘buddy’ and teasing you and giving you little love shoves. That’s true romance .”
“You giving me ‘love shoves’ is true romance , Jeremy? Are you having a laugh? I really thought you didn’t like me!”
And then it hits Jeremy that maybe they’ve both been a bit oblivious. Gavin hadn’t noticed Jeremy being all googly-eyed for him, but Jeremy also didn’t notice that Gavin was pining equally as hard. God, they’re such idiots .
He says as much and then Gavin’s laughing with him, laughing about how they’re such idiots and how there were so many times where they both thought they were being blatantly obvious, so many times where they were getting the wrong message, thinking the other knew about their feelings, thinking they were being rejected.
“Okay,” Jeremy says after talking for what feels like hours, “ we have got to get better at this whole communication thing, you know. Now that we’re in a relationship we can’t just be stupid fucks who can’t talk about our feelings, we gotta be open with shit.” They’re both still laughing and Jeremy’s looking at Gavin with an exasperated but adoring look, and everything just feels right again.
“Okay well, if we’re being open, then I gotta tell you, I really think we need to get rid of these bloody flowers. And maybe the sheets too, just throw them out. I’ll buy you new ones because god damn this is disgusting.” Gavin winces, looking disdainfully at the pile of flowers still next to him. They do kind of smell.
Jeremy rolls his eyes, “Anything for you, love ,” he teases, though he actually means it. If he can survive having flowers growing in his fucking chest for Gavin…
Well, he’d do anything for him.