Archive of Our Own

Jeremy was already regretting joining his friends.

The state fair went until the beginning of September: carnival rides, eating contests, and rodeo shows. What a great way to end the summer, with the warmth of the sun beating down, the laughter of friends making fun of how you refuse to go near any mimes. Walking with that special person, someone to lovingly watch as the two of you milk a cow, sunlight softening his features…

Jeremy frowned at his cotton candy. That was the plan, at least. He had gotten tickets to the carnival with his friends, months in advance, buying Roland’s with the intention of asking him to come along. Jeremy had been excited, he had found a way that he could go on a real date! with his boyfriend! And he was so sure that Roland would be excited too. Even if they were in public, Jeremy’s friends were going, so they could keep it on the “down-low”, just how Roland likes it.

Sighing, Jeremy finishes his cotton candy, lightly picking at the paper cone. It’s been months since Roland broke up with him and he will enjoy himself. No time for moping when you have friends to spend time with.

“Alright, what’s–” Jeremy started to ask his friends. Looking up, he realizes that he has no idea where he is, much less his friends. Food stalls enclose him on both sides. A quick scan reveals nothing, anyone familiar seemingly long gone.

Heartbeat picking up, Jeremy tries to call out for any of his friends, but the words come out strangled. He knows he needs to calm down. Fast. Stumbling over to a bench, he falls onto it with heavy breaths. He lets his head rest in his hands, blocking out the suddenly too-loud noise and focuses on not letting himself spiral into a full-blown panic attack. Jeremy had dealt with them before, more so recently. Stopping them was easier said than done. His friends had left him, just like Roland. Fat tears burned as he screwed his eyes tighter. He was better than this, Roland had told him. He couldn’t have a panic attack right now, he needed to find his friends.

Jeremy scrubbed his face with his jacket sleeve, grimacing at the snot that stains. He was fine, crisis averted. No help needed.

‘If I am going to be at this stupid fair, then I’m going to have fun. Friends or no friends, I’m not helpless,’ Jeremy mentally declared, looking around again. Not seeing anyone he recognized, he stood, resolving to find some rides to go on.

Jeremy found that he was having much more fun than he expected to. He pet some goats at the petting zoo, then found his friends sometime in the first thirty minutes of being left behind — ‘All that panic, for nothing,’ he had thought snidely to himself.

“Hey, guys,” he called to them, slightly jogging to catch up where his friends were standing in line for a ride at the ferris wheel. He ignored a couple of scowls thrown his way, mentally apologizing to them. “Why’d you ditch me? That excited to go on the ferris wheel?”

Terrence shrugged, one arm thrown over Gail’s shoulders. “You seemed pretty pensive, dude. Didn’t want to bother your deep thoughts or whatever.”

“Yeah, we thought you might just wanted to be alone for a bit,” Wendy piped up. Lee nodded beside her, lightly patting Jeremy on the head. “You know, because Roland–”

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about it,” Terrence interrupted. “Dude doesn’t want to think about it, we don’t say anything.”

“It’s okay, Terry.” The five of them shuffled forward as the line moved. “I’m fine. I wasn’t pouting, or like anything. I was just–” ‘make something up, make something up, make something up’ “–meeting up with someone I had met a while ago.”

Jeremy could see their eyebrows raise, even if they were too nice to show their disbelief to his face.

“Oh, really?” Terrence asked, a teasing lit to his voice. “Have we met?”

“Ah, no. I met him through…Roland.” Jeremy tries to stop the embarrassment from showing on his face, but he could already feel his ears burning.

The silence from his friends allowed him to overthink what he had said. Why was he such a shit liar? And why did he feel the need to lie about something this stupid?

“Roland sucked anyways,” Gail told Jeremy, breaking the silence as she patted his arm. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone so cool?”

“Thanks, Gail.”

“I meant me, but you’re not bad yourself.”

It gets a laugh out of Jeremy. “Thanks, Gail.”

They shuffled to the front of the line, waiting for the next carriage to glide downwards and let the occupants off. “Okay, next,” called the ride operator.

Jeremy followed behind the other four, about to head up the stairs when he’s stopped by the operator.

“Sorry, man. Only four to a pod.”

He looks up at his friends who look back. “Oh, uh…”

“Here,” Wendy starts. “I can wait down here–”

“No, no,” Jeremy tells her. “I’m fine, can’t go up anyways. I gotta…” he trails, mind screaming at him to make something up, anything that wouldn’t make him look like a total loser in front of his friends, the operator, or the people behind him that were certainly upset at him for cutting them off and now stalling them. “I gotta go find my friend from earlier.”

“Oh, okay.” Terrence doesn’t look convinced, but doesn’t press Jeremy on it. “Have fun, we’ll meet up later.”

Jeremy flashes a thumbs up, then goes to fist bump Terrence. Lee pats his head again as he waves to the girls and pretends that he isn’t fleeing from them.

He wanders the fairgrounds, mouth twisted in a slight grimace. It’s nearing midday and Jeremy casts a wary eye to the petting zoo, holding his breath slightly while quickening his steps.

‘Guess no one volunteered to clean up after the animals today,’ Jeremy chuckles to himself, despite having not made a joke. He passes into a quieter part of the fairgrounds. There’s a lone carnival booth to his left and some sort of haunted ride a little ways ahead. ‘Ack, the stench is still–’

“OH WHAT THE IN THE FUCK!” The shouting startles Jeremy into stopping and staring at the display happening beside him.

The man who, presumably, had shouted is now gesturing wildly at the carnie running the game labeled “Bottle Toss.” He’s taller than Jeremy, which does not encourage Jeremy to think that he could do anything to stop the man, should he turn violent. Mr. Loudmouth is also much more muscular than Jeremy — not that Jeremy is checking him out or anything, just so that he knows if he’d have to call security if the man tries to hurt anyone. That’s all…

Mr. Loudmouth is crushing a plastic ball in his hand, waving it around and looking like he’s, frankly, about to shove it down the carnie’s throat. The carnie, however, seems nonplussed, as if he’s been threatened by multiple carnival go-ers before. Or as if the man has been enraged about playing (and losing) the Bottle Toss for a while now.

“Why don’t you try doing a few curls with the bodybuilders?” the carnie asks the man, sneer just visible from under his visor. Mr. Loudmouth throws the little plastic orange ball at the carnie. He simply leans to the side and the ball lightly plunks off the canvas, falls to the ground, and rolls to the carnie’s feet. He does not bother to pick it up.

Loudmouth has planted both his hands on the counter separating them. The carnie has moved from his slumped position against the facade of the booth and stands with his arms crossed, eyes finally uncovered as he stares up at Loudmouth, mouth twisted into a smug grin. The man meets the carnie’s eyes, face flushed and teeth bared as the two lock into a staring contest.

With one last humf, the man backs up from the booth and flips off the carnie — who simply returns the gesture — without breaking eye contact, or watching where he’s going.

Unfortunately Jeremy had been gawking at the aggressive display, and fails to notice that he’s in the six-foot-something man’s path. Until they’re both sprawled out onto the ground, that is.

“Holy mother of shit, you okay?” In a curse of words (and a voice that sounds oddly familiar?) Loudmouth scrambles off Jeremy, elbowing his way into Jeremy’s ribs and back onto the compact dirt. “Should— okay, oh no. Lemme just.”

Hands wrap under his shoulders and legs, turning Jeremy’s world from an arrangement of dirt particles and pieces of styrofoam plates, to the chest of the loudmouth that just picked him up. Bridal style.

‘Oh no.’ Jeremy could feel the heat radiating off of the man. The entire right side of his body felt as if they were snuggled up in bed, him laying with his head on the man’s chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his brea—

“Hey, do I need to call someone?”

Jeremy’s face was already a bright red, and he could only imagine the tomato he had just become. ‘Really?’ he scolds himself. ‘You literally know nothing about him, except that he yells at carnies, and you’re already fantasizing? Get a hold of yourself. Fucking idiot.’

“No need,” he squeaks, hiding his face in his hands. “Please put me down?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

The near-sudden impact of his feet against the ground wakes Jeremy up a bit. He shakes himself off and looks up at his…savior? No. Knight in sh— Definitely not. Picker-upper? Only after squishing him. Whatever, he didn’t need to be Jeremy’s anything.

The man is definitely tall, and dressed in a suit? He has dark hair and dark eyes, which Jeremy catches just as he realizes he’s being scrutinized. Or, well, maybe the more accurate phrase is checking him out. That’s probably Jeremy fantasizing again. He can’t really tell if the slight suspicion he sees in the man’s eyes is him projecting, considering it wasn’t Jeremy that asked to be picked up.

“So, what’s your deal then?” the man asks, as if they were already engaged in conversation and not just a weird stare-off.

“My deal?” Jeremy’s mouth might gape open for a second, but like. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? “I should be asking what your deal is, seeing as you’re the one getting into fights with carnies and knocking over innocent bystanders. Maybe you should show more tact and not just pick people up without asking! Yeah, you owe me another apology.”

Jeremy is seething now — or, trying to. It’s kind of difficult for him when he’s watching the man’s face and the emotions (or lack of, this guy has a good poker face) that flicker slightly in his eyes. His dark, intense eyes that bore into Jeremy’s, like he’s sizing Jeremy up and deciding just what to do to—

NOPE.

Jeremy’s determination is definitely being beaten out by the embarrassment creeping up onto his face. It’s made very clear by the other man’s growing smirk.

“Okay then,” he says. “I owe you an apology.” He nods his head off to the side and gestures for Jeremy to follow.

Face burning, Jeremy is already falling in-step with the man before he realizes that he was moving. “You’re very brash,” he tells the man. “We don’t even know each other’s names and for all I know, you’re going to kidnap me and sell my organs.”

“First off, you are following me. I’m not forcing you to do anything. B, I don’t have the skillset to harvest your organs without any damage, so I wouldn’t be able to sell your organs anyways—”

“You’re bad at reassuring people—”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Jeremy shuts his mouth.

The man gives Jeremy a weird look, but keeps going. “Oh, thank you? But, to finish my list, if you really wanted to know my name, you could have just asked already.” He side eyes Jeremy a little bit, as if inviting him to.

“Okay then. Hello, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

He stops walking, startling Jeremy a little bit with his abruptness, and causing Jeremy to bump into him. He looks up at the man, finding sharp, narrowed eyes boring into Jeremy’s own widening eyes.

“Why do you want to know my name?”

Jeremy, mouth agape, feels a heat rising face. “The fuck do you mean?”

“Kidding, kidding. Sorry.” He turns, extending a hand. “You can call me…Mark?”

“You don’t sound sure.” ‘Mark…that name is familiar…no, there’s no way…but he does sound familiar.’

“Of course I’m sure.”

“The way you said your name makes me feel like you just made it up.”

“I definitely did not, Mark is something people call me.”

“‘Something people call me’, the fuck? You sound insane, who talks like that?”

“Jeremy, I swear that if you don’t shut up, I’ll make you shut up.”

“Oh, like you could—” Jeremy is cut off, suddenly being pulled off to the side, crowded between a dumpster and some sort of maintenance shed.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy looks up at Mark, eyes wide and heart pounding. He barely catches what Mark is saying, the blood is rushing in his ears.

He watches Mark’s lips move, trying to tell him something, but Jeremy can feel how Mark’s larger body takes up the small space he wedged the two of them into. His body is warm against Jeremy’s.

Jeremy grasps uselessly at Mark’s open suit jacket. He does his best to tune out his thoughts about nights at Roland’s house, sudden company, being pushed away, the cold smile—

No, no Mark is talking, what is he saying?

“ —just left standing there, this little sausage dog in my arms, and I tell him that we could raise this dog as our own, but then he’s like ‘do your fucking job’ which is so rude, like can’t we be friends? But apparently professionalism is a thing in a workplace, who knew? Then I say ‘well—‘ Oh hey? You’re back!”

Jeez, it feels like Jeremy can do nothing other than blush around this man, but he can still feel the warmth in his cheeks as he tunes back into whatever Mark was rambling about.

“Do you want to go on a ride? I’ll get you some food as an apology.”

He nods, if only because Jeremy doesn’t want to leave Mark’s side quite yet.

Not that he can’t leave, if he wanted to. He’s got friends, they’re probably waiting for him… Or are they enjoying their time away from his gloomy ass, taking down the mood of the group, walking on eggshells around the topic of Roland?

“Great!” Mark grabs Jeremy’s arm, and drags him across the carnival.

Game stalls and ride entrances blur past as Mark’s strong grip pulls him along. Jeremy briefly considers that he’s being kidnapped and his friends will find his body in some dumpster, but they have already been through that. And though Mark wasn’t very reassuring, Jeremy wasn’t inclined to think that he was in any danger — at least not physically. His brain definitely had ideas about this practically-a-stranger Mark.

“Where’re we going?”

“To get food? Didn’t I say that? I’m getting you food and then we are going on a ride. As an apology? Is that not what I said? Are you going crazy? Am I going crazy? It’s been ten years since I got that concussion…” He keeps muttering to himself, something about…a riot in the woods? Or maybe a New Year’s party that was a riot? Jeremy doesn’t try to listen in, more worried about keeping his feet under him, as the scenery continues to blur by.

“...Not to mention all the fumes, I suppose—Oof,” Mark finishes, startling as Jeremy is slammed face-first into his back. “Careful there.”

Jeremy pulls his hand back and steps away. “Warn me next time you run me into a brick wall.”

Mark chuckles. “You’ll be paying better attention next time.” He winks before turning to the vendor.

‘Is he fucking flirting with me right now?’ Jeremy narrows his eyes, boring into the side of Mark’s face as he orders.

“Funnel cake.” Mark slides his eyes to meet Jeremy’s, silently meeting his glare. He squints his eyes a little bit more. “Funnel cake?”

Slowly nodding, Jeremy scrunches his nose into a grimace.

“Two funnel cakes then, please and thank you.” Mark pulls a hand through his hair, a nervous habit Jeremy would assume. But what does he have to be nervous about?

The silence between them is swallowed by the screams from excited children and disgruntled parents yelling after them to slow down. “So…” Mark starts to say. “Come here often?”

Jeremy, still squinting, parts his mouth slightly. Disbelief takes over his face. “To the State Fair?” he sputters. “That is only open for one week out of the year?”

“Yeah? Do you come to the State Fair often? I think my question was pretty simple.”

‘Great, the snideness is back.’ Jeremy starts to roll his eyes before stopping. “Actually, my friends and I try to go most years. This is our…third? I think this is our third year in a row as a group.”

Mark nods, looking somewhat impressed.

Jeremy’s lips flatten to a thin line. He waits for Mark before saying, “So, is it your turn or?”

“My turn? Oh! Yes.” Mark turns, grabbing the funnel cakes from the attendant. He ushers Jeremy out of the line, towards picnic tables and hands him one of the cakes. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“Reminding you? We were literally in front of the stall, and it was your idea to get it in the first place.”

Mark shrugs.

“Okay, but,” Jeremy shakes his head, setting the funnel cake on the table and sitting down. “That isn’t what I meant anyways.”

“Oh? You didn’t want funnel cake?” Mark moves around the table, straddling the bench besides Jeremy. He leans his elbow on the table, props his head against his head, and frowns at Jeremy. “Why did you agree to it then if you didn’t want any? I would have gotten…”

His voice is drowned out again as Jeremy flushes at their closeness. He flicks his eyes to where Mark’s thighs are spread out on either side of the bench. His thoughts start spiraling – laying on a bed, looking up at Mark, suit in disarray, he is breathing hard – Jeremy looks up at Mark’s face — realizing that he really is breathing hard — and watches as he licks off a bit of powdered sugar from his fingers.

Jeremy remembers himself and covers his face in embarrassment. They are in a public place and Mark is basically a total stranger. He has yet to do anything…well, he has done plenty of suspicious and questionable things, but he has yet to actually cause Jeremy any harm.

‘Not that it wouldn’t be easy for him to…’ Jeremy thinks, glancing at where Mark has rolled up his sleeves to combat the start of the oppressive afternoon heat. Catching himself, Jeremy resolves to just focus on Mark’s face. Not necessarily what he is saying because Jeremy is quite sure that half of what is being spewed out is bullshit, but. At least he’s nice to look at.

“And I would name him Asset 1081, but his real name would be Charles because I know it would piss off my– Oh you’re back.” Mark holds out a hand, a piece of funnel cake laying on his palm. “You haven’t had any yet, with all the hard thinking you were doing.” He quirks an eyebrow and smirks.

“Th-thanks.” Jeremy’s face must be bright red, with how hot it feels. It has to be the heat, it has to be. He reaches out for the funnel cake and does not think about how his fingers brush against Mark’s hand. “Sorry, what were you talking about?”

“My cats.”

“You have cats?” ‘They never mention crazy cat guys.’

“No, I don’t have any pets.”

Jeremy looks at him blankly. “Then why…”

“My future cats, obviously,” Mark scoffs. “I would name one Mango, objectively the best fruit. The other would be Charles.”

“That's a very…different name. Charles?”

“Yeah, that would really piss off my, uh boss.” He goes to run a hand through his hair again, but looks at the powdered sugar still sticking to his fingers and seems to think better of it. “He doesn’t have any pets of his own, I believe, but how funny would it be if he named it after me? I think it’d be hilarious. He’s a pretty serious guy though– ‘Don’t do this, don’t do this, I’m so old I voted in the nineteen seventy-two election, blah blah blah.’ Bet he voted for Nixon too. What a guy.” Mark shakes his head. “How’s the funnel cake, good?”

Jeremy looks down at the funnel cake he has been holding this whole time. Gently, he takes a bite. Tastes like…fried dough. And sugar.

“It’s good.”

Mark nods, the sides of his mouth turning down. “Not as good as malasada, though. I would bury a body for some good malasada right now.”

“Isn’t the phrase ‘kill a man’?” Jeremy asks, starting to eat bits of his own funnel cake.

“Why would I need to kill a man?” Mark raises an eyebrow. “Have you killed a man, Jeremy? Only the government is allowed to do that. Are you a part of the government, Jeremy? You have to tell me or it’s entrapment.”

“I don’t think that’s what ‘entrapment’ means. And no, I don’t work for the government. What kind of government employee would go to a State Fair?”

Mark turns away from Jeremy, scanning the crowd passing around them. “I suppose you are right. What kind of government employee would spend their down time at a State Fair?” He runs his hand through his hair. Realizing what he has done, he grimaces and pulls it away, strands sticking to the sugary residue. “I’m going to go wash my hands.”

Jermey nods, wincing in sympathy.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.” Mark gets up stretching out his legs as he swings them over the bench. “Finish up your funnel cake, then we’ll find a ride to go on.”

He walks away, Jeremy watching as he swings his suit jacket over one shoulder.

‘Now what?’ Jeremy wonders, finishing off the last of his funnel cake. ‘He’s still not back. Am I really going to wait around like a love-sick puppy? We barely know each other. Never even introduced–’ Jeremy’s eyes widen with the realization. Mark has been calling him by his name this whole time, but Jeremy never introduced himself…

‘I must have…how else would he have…’ He thinks back to another Mark he knew — not that they had ever met — and tries to remember the voice from the telephone.

“I think I just missed you.”

“Jeremy, we missed you!” comes a shout behind him, suddenly stopping his hazy memory.

Turning around, he spots Wendy waving at him from the crowd as his friends make their way over to his picnic table. “Oh, hey guys. How was the ferris wheel?”

Terrence sits to Jeremy’s left, Gail across from him, their hands staying linked over the table. Lee is already on his right and Wendy swings her legs over the bench across from them, smoothing her skirt as she sits.

Lee shrugs, patting Jeremy on the back in greeting as Gail shows off the green stuffed bear in her free hand. “Got me a new friend. Haven’t named him yet. Wendy won one too, but she gave it to some kid that was crying over the Bottle Toss game.” Gail ‘tsks’ at Wendy, smiling as she shakes her head. “Too kind for her own good.”

“That carnie was being way mean to him!” Wendy huffs. “Why was he in such a bad mood anyways? There is no need to take it out on a child.”

Jeremy thinks back to earlier, wondering if Mark really had gotten under the carnie’s skin so much. Scratch that– of course he did, it’s Mark.

Terrence laughs, eyes filled with warmth as he turns to Jeremy. A kind friend, Jeremy is lucky to have him and the rest of the group in his life. He shudders to think what his life would be like without ever meeting Terry.

“Whatcha been up to, J-Dawg? Find any more hedgehogs?”

Face going warm, Jeremy’s voice pitches an octave. “I didn’t know they were illegal!” Terrence is the worst friend, how could he have survived all these years knowing him.

Jeremy hears a small huff of laughter from behind him and he whips around to face Lee. “You’re one to laugh! You knew the whole time and didn’t tell me, the worst roommate! I can’t believe this.” He crosses his arms, slumping over the table.

“Oh, Jere, we’re just kidding,” Wendy tells him from behind her hand, where she’s hiding a smile.

Terrence bumps his shoulder into Jeremy’s. “Yeah, man. No hard feelings?”

Peering one eye up at Terrence, Jeremy nods.

“Alright! So, what did you do while you were waiting? We looked for you when we got off the ride, but couldn’t find hide nor hair. Did you meet up with your uh, friend?” Terrence shares a look with Gail.

“Yeah, did your friend leave already? You were sitting here all alone.”

Oh right, he forgot about that. “Oh, no, he’s just in the bathroom. Powdered sugar,” Jeremy laughs a bit, sheepishly showing the paper plate of crumbs. “One second.”

He gets up and strides over to the trash can. Throwing away the plate, he hears a familiar voice.

“One more hour, alright? I’m having fun for once.”

Jeremy peers around, spotting Mark leaning up against a nearby tree. He’s holding a cellphone to his ear and clicking a pen.

“Yes, yes, paperwork I know.” Mark looks up, catching Jeremy staring. He quirks an eyebrow. He smiles at Jeremy as he rolls his eyes at the person on the other line. “I’ll make it up to you, Charles.”

Mark pushes off the tree, stashing the pen and making his way over. “You’re stuttering again. Listen, I’ll call you back, okay? One hour, then you can send in Anthony, or whoever. Maybe you can make the trip this time!”

Rolling his eyes again, he stops when he reaches Jeremy. “See ya, boss.” He hangs up and stuffs the phone somewhere in his coat. “So nosy.”

“I’m not pulling you away from work, am I?”

“Nah, he just likes to know what I’m doing all the time, as if he doesn’t already know.” Mark nods his head over to the picnic table. “So, who’s all that?”

Jeremy glances over, knowing Mark is talking about his friends, but not expecting to see them all quietly watching the two of them.

Blushing, he whips back, to apologize for them, and instead finds that Mark has leaned down. They are practically nose to nose and Jeremy swears that Mark’s eyes just flickered down to his lips. Mark tilts his head slightly — ‘Are we about to–?’ — and backs up quickly.

Stuffing a hand into his pocket and the other running through his hair, Mark looks over to the picnic table, then back to Jeremy. “Friends of yours?”

Silently, Jeremy nods. He raises his hands to cover his face, counts to ten, then looks over. Wendy and Terrence are talking to each other, not so subtly glancing over. Gail is more covert, acting as if she’s merely studying the crowd, but her eyes land on the two of them too often to not be coincidence. Lee hasn’t moved. He raises a hand to wave and Jeremy waves back.

“Yeah, we came to the fair together.”

“Do you want a raincheck on that ride?”

Jeremy looks up at him, shooing the initial dirty thought away. “I mean, if you have another hour, we can still go?”

Mark shakes his head. “I don’t want to keep you from spending time with your friends. Plus,” he looks around conspiratorially and leans down to whisper in Jeremy’s ear. “I didn’t really get an hour. My boss would get in a lot of trouble if I don’t leave soon.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Jeremy says, knowing that he definitely didn’t care about what would happen to Mark’s boss. If Mark was who he suspected he was, then Jeremy wanted to keep him longer. Mainly to yell at him, but he would not be opposed to going on one of the fair’s rides. Or maybe get a coffee… As friends, of course.

‘As friends? Yeah right, shut the fuck up Jeremy, stop lying to yourself. No one is going to hear your thoughts.’

“Certainly not,” Marks laughs. “He’s the one keeping me around. I quite like my job.”

“And what is it you do again?”

Mark narrows his eyes at him.

“Never mind, I don’t need an answer.”

“Good call.”

Jeremy rocks on heels. “So… Leaving?”

“Yes, right. That.” Mark rolls his sleeves down to put on his jacket, and Jeremy mourns the loss. “I have to stay in town for a bit, but I better get back and call my boss back before he freaks out.” He tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Well…I’ll see you again sometime?”

Mark smirks. “Unless it’s in your dreams, unlikely.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy sticks out a hand. “Goodbye, Serial Killer.”

Taking his hand, Mark’s smirk widens to a grin as they shake hands. “See ya, Jeremy.”

A paper slips into his hands when Mark lets go. With a wink he’s off.

Opening up the paper, Jeremy reads a hotel’s address and a short message under it.