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Jay’s not sure when it happens, not exactly, anyways. It could’ve been three weeks ago, three days ago, three hours ago, or three minutes ago. All he knows is that Matt is acting weird.
Now, Matt is a weird guy, he's known this forever now. He’s the kid who stole bikes and threw them off bridges, who filled a cup up with candy, hiding it with a slurpee, just to steal all of it anyways. He’s the guy who faked his own suicide to scare his friend, who never stopped talking, who came up with insane plans all the time.
But, this is different. Very different.
It probably happened sometime after the second attempt at the Skydome plan. Thankfully, they went early, and managed to actually land in the stadium. Matt didn’t even have to push him off this time. Unfortunately, the workers don’t take too kindly to random men skydiving into their establishment, and they were both quickly tackled to the ground, before being shoved into the back of a police car.
Luckily, Matt’s mouth was able to get them out of this fuck-up, too, and they happily walked out of the police station less than two hours later. As they rounded the corner of the building, Matt stopped abruptly in front of him, and swirled around to face him. He looked at Jay intently, like he was trying to figure out the world’s hardest puzzle, flicking his eyes back and forth between his own, frown etching into his face.
Jay just stared back, unsure what was going through his friend’s mind. Matt was always an enigma like that, hard to read, hard to figure out what he may be thinking at any given moment. As he opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, Matt sprung forward, and he suddenly had an armful of his friend.
Matt wrapped his arms around him, underneath his arms, as opposed to his normal throwing them around his shoulders. He smashed his face into Jay’s chest, and muttered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Birdie. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
Jay’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, hands shaking as they rose to lay across Matt’s back. He looked straight ahead for a moment, thought of the look in Matt’s eyes as he sent himself to his own death, and uttered, “I’m glad you’re okay too, MJ.”
They stayed there for a moment, Matt breathing deeply into his chest, grip so tight it almost began to hurt, before he pulled back slowly, and looked up at Jay. His lips were pursed in an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked so anxious, a look so unusual for him that it made Jay’s heart break a little to look at.
He brought his hands to Matt’s shoulders, smoothing his blazer down, and said to him softly, “I’m not going anywhere, Matt, don’t worry,” before bringing him back in for another embrace.
And then the nightmares started, and the bed sharing.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just slept in the same bed, Bird? I mean, we end up in the same bed every night anyways, might as well just start there to make it less difficult,” Matt says to him one evening, eyes never leaving the tv as he rushes through a game of Mario Kart.
Jay’s fingers still from where they were gently swimming across the piano keys, and he snaps his head up. He’s right, of course he is, but the thought still makes his stomach tumble uncomfortably. He doesn’t like asking for things he doesn’t deserve, and he doesn’t deserve the comfort of someone laying next him, especially not Matt. Not the person he hurt.
They sit in silence for a while, Jay mulling the words over, and Matt smashing buttons on his controller, the Rainbow Road theme quietly humming through the tv speakers.
“Birdie, you alright, man? You haven't said a word and it looks like you’re gonna lose your dinner all over the piano,” Matt says quietly, finally breaking the silence. He’s finished the level, coming in fifth. He must really know Jay’s upset if he isn’t screaming his head off at that.
He hadn’t even realized he moved, hunching over himself, until he said something about it. His hands are shaking in his lap and his breathing’s coming quicker. His mind flashes between the Matt he knew, the awful sight of him being electrocuted, to images of this current Matt, parachute not deploying properly, splattering himself into the rough cement below. He thinks of Matt getting hit by a car, not paying attention to what’s around him, body falling like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Worst of all, he thinks of putting a gun to Matt’s head, pulling the trigger, seeing the blood and brain matter hit the wall behind him, the smell of the gun powder. Watching the life leave his friends' eyes.
At that, he violently jerks his head, squeezes his eyes shut, and begins running his hands up and down his thighs soothingly. He can’t get rid of the thought, now that he’s known what it feels like to hold a real gun, he knows how simple it is to pull the trigger, how easily he can end a life.
A whine rips up his throat, and he begins humming to himself, anything to end it. He’s already changed for the night, in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, so he begins running his hands roughly up and down his arms, feels the rough drag of nails against skin, feels the steady thin drip of blood down his arm from where he pulled a bit too hard, and rocks himself back and forth.
Suddenly, a thicker hand gently tugs at his hands, and pulls them away from his arms. Only then does he realize that Matt’s draped his chest against Jay’s back, using his weight to push down gently onto him, how he always likes it. His broad arms wrap around his shoulders, and he uses his hands to hold Jay’s against his own chest, using his thumb to knead gently into his shirt, just hard enough that he can feel it on his skin. He lays his head on top of Jay’s, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly.
“What’s gotten into you, Jaybird? You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m your friend before your band mate, I just wanna see you okay, and this is not okay,” he whispers to him, voice shaking slightly. Jay feels a slight warmth fall into his hair, and knows that Matt’s crying. It makes him feel all the worse, to know he’s upsetting him.
“I don’t want to ask for too much. These are my nightmares, not yours, you shouldn’t even have to share a bed with me,” he wheezes out, ripping his eyes open, looking down. The bleeding from his arm has stopped, but it’s smeared all over from Matt moving his hands, some of it’s even gotten onto his hands, a stark contrast to his pale skin. Jay stares at the blood on his friend’s hands and has to swallow the lump forming in his throat.
“Is that what this is about? Jay, we kissed a few days ago, I promise I don’t mind sharing a bed with you, man. Hell, I sleep better at night knowing you’re not in your room by yourself, in your own head. I just want you okay,” he says softly, kissing the top of Jay’s head. He moves his arms slowly off his shoulders, and yanks softly, signaling Jay to turn around on the bench.
Once he does, Matt lowers himself to be eye-level with him. He looks at him so tenderly that it nearly brings him to tears right then and there. He’s smiling gently, and then he’s leaning forward and catching his lips in a careful kiss. It’s slow and deliberate, just lips moving against each other, and it’s the best thing Jay’s felt in months.
Matt pulls back slowly, gentle smile still there, and raises back to his full height. He cocks his head to the side, towards the stairs, and says, “C’mon, Birdie, let’s get you cleaned up and head to bed,” and grabs for Jay’s hand, pulling him up from the piano bench.
They stop at the bathroom first, Matt shushing him as he hisses at the rubbing alcohol being poured on his arm, and lightly bandaging up the scratches. They take turns washing their hands, Matt stares at him through the mirror from behind him, his face pinched with something Jay’s never seen before, and when they make eye contact and he raises his eyebrows at him, Matt just shakes his head and waves his hand at him.
Once they're done, they stumble their way to Jay’s bedroom, where they shut the door behind them, and Matt begins to change out of his clothes. Jay pulls himself into the bed, sprawled out in the middle, sitting up against the headboard, and watches as Matt strips out of his jeans, tossing them to the side. He takes his hat off, throws it somewhere to the side, and slides the blazer off. He works on unbuttoning his shirt slowly, back faced towards Jay, once he finally gets it off his shoulders and laying with the jeans, he rummages through Jay’s closet, finds an old Oasis shirt he didn’t even know he had anymore, and works it over his head.
Jay can’t help but stare as his upper back flexes with the strain of pulling the shirt over his shoulders, at the tight fit of the worn out cotton against his biceps and torso, showcasing the work he’s done on his muscles. His eyes roam lower, to the waistband of his boxers hugging his hips, to the swell of his thighs, to his boxers outlining—
Jay swallows roughly, pulling a hand down his face. He can’t think about that now. They may be kissing and more affectionate, but that means nothing. He doesn’t wanna assume anything.
Matt finally turns, sees him staring, and grins smugly at him.
“Like what you see, Birdie?” he asks, flexing his bicep, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth cheekily.
Jay just huffs and scowls at him, “Yeah, you wish, MJ. Now get over here, I’m starting to get cold,” he adds the last part hastily, trying to change the trajectory of the conversation.
Matt just throws his head back and cackles, shaking his head, and hefting himself into the bed. “Y’know, you’re allowed to look, Jaybird. I want you to look,” he whispers to him, face hovering above his own, eyes flicking between his lips and gaze.
Jay feels a flush grow from his chest, all the way up to his face. He groans loudly, squirming lightly, “You can’t just say that, Matty,” he whines to him, face scrunched as he looks back up at him.
He just huffs, and smiles at him, “But it’s so cute when you get all worked up. I’m not even doing anything and you’re all bothered,” he breathes out, closing the gap between them.
Jay pushes up harder, forcing his tongue into the other’s mouth, who whines and sighs heavily through his nose. Matt settles himself against Jay, laying chest-to-chest, arms on either side of his head, legs bracketing his hips. After a moment, they have to pull back for air, and he looks up at Matt’s shiny, red lips, a slight string of spit resting at the corner.
He grins, pushes his hands through Matt’s hair, utters to him, “You’re so beautiful, Matty. I’m so lucky to have you,” placing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Matt flushes, drops his head bashfully, and when he raises it again, he bites his lip, rolling it between his teeth, a smile growing on his face. He looks at Jay for a moment, mutters to him, “I’m the one who’s lucked out, Jaybird. I don’t know what I did to get to wake up next to you every morning,” before placing a kiss to the center of Jay’s forehead, and flopping over onto his back. He throws his arm out in Jay’s direction, beckons him forward, and when he finally shuffles to rest his head into the crook of Matt’s shoulder, he wraps it tight around his shoulders, smooshing his face into his hair.
It’s a week later when it inevitably happens, when everything crumbles to the ground.
Jay wakes up in the middle of the night, not from a nightmare this time, and rolls over to throw his arm across Matt’s stomach, when his hand hits the cold surface of the bed. He pushes himself up slightly, blinks through the sleep in his eyes, and finds that Matt’s spot on the bed is empty. He pushes the blankets off him, and swings his legs over the side, and forces himself up.
He checks Matt’s room on his way through the hallway, finding it empty, same as the bathroom, and begins the descent to the first floor. The lights are still off, his ears ring in the silence, and when he doesn’t see anything in the living room, treks into the kitchen, and finds nothing there.
At this rate he’s beginning to panic, ice filling his veins, before his eyes catch something in the window facing their backyard. It’s Matt, laying atop the RV, dressed in only his pajamas, arms pillowing his head, as he stares up at the stars above. He breathes a sigh of relief, and opens the door to the back.
He walks out barefoot, only in a t-shirt and boxers, the cool August breeze swaying his hair slightly, goosebumps prickling his skin. He reaches the RV, steps around the random bullshit surrounding it, and calls out to Matt, “Hey, MJ, what’re you doing?” as he begins the climb up.
Matt startles slightly, whipping his head in his direction, body going lax when he realizes who it is. His face is etched in a frown, dark circles lining underneath his eyes, and old tear tracks line down his face.
When Jay’s knees hit the solid top of the RV, he shuffles forward, laying himself next to Matt, torsos touching. Matt stares at him for a moment, a look in his eyes suggests he’s thinking something over, before he’s dropping his head back onto his arms laying behind him, and looks back to the sky. Jay stays silent, and follows suit.
He’s always liked looking at the stars, they make him feel small, but not in an insignificant way. In a way that reminds him there’s more out there, more than he could ever understand, things so far outside of his comprehension. That everything went on infinitely, and he was lucky enough to experience it anyway. It was comforting in a way, to remember the world continues even when you don’t want to anymore. That no matter what, it stops for nothing.
“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” Matt’s voice shakily slices through the silence, startling him slightly. He turns to look at him, and sees tears are freshly rolling down his face, causing Jay to sit up, moving closer, moving his hands to wipe under his eyes.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, MJ?” he asks him, worry filling his voice. It’s always unnerving to see Matt cry like this so openly.
Matt breathes out a sob, scrambling to sit up, and throws his head into Jay’s chest, arms wrapping around his stomach, sitting in between Jay’s outstretched legs, and begins to cry in earnest.
Jay brings his arms up to wrap around his neck, whispering half-nonsense into his ear, rubbing into his back with his fingers. His eyebrows are scrunched, mind whirling through anything that could’ve happened, and coming up blank. He has no idea what happened, and he's way out of his element. Normally, Matt’s the one comforting him.
So, he just sways back and forth slowly, one hand rubbing his friend's back, the other softly running through his hair. He hums quietly, a gentle melody, and Matt’s breathing starts to slow to normal.
“I gotcha, MJ. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers to him, tugging a knot out of his hair. Matt just whines quietly, hand fisting his night shirt. Jay shushes him, pulls him in a little tighter.
Finally, after a few minutes, Matt pulls back, bringing his hands to rub roughly at his face. Jay grabs his wrists gently, pulls them from his face, replacing them with his own, softly cleaning the tears off his friend’s face.
“Can you tell me—” Jay starts, before hastily being interrupted.
“I know you’re not my Jay.”
It feels like the carpet’s been ripped out from underneath him, and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing. His heart hammers in his chest, and he feels warm all over. He gapes silently, staring owlishly at Matt, who just stares back, eyes wide, eyebrows raised.
“How—how’d you—?” he tries, words failing him. It’s like his brain is about to implode, and he can’t think of a single comprehensible thing to say.
“In 2008. I was in the closet when you came back, I saw you fix the whiteboard,” he whispers to him, grabbing at his shoulders. “For seventeen years, I spent trying to figure out what was going to go wrong, but everything stayed the same. Until, you started having those nightmares, and then it started to fall into place. I figured something terrible happened,” he finishes, voice hitching at the end.
Jay just stares, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, brain filled with static. Matt knew. Of course, he knew. He was so stupid to think Matt didn’t know everything at this point, like some omnipotent being.
At his silence, Matt became restless, fidgeting with the sleeves of Jay’s shirts, eyes flicking all over his face, down to his hands, and back up to his face.
Finally, his voice breaks through the quiet, “Jay, can you just tell me what happened, please? I promise no matter how insane it sounds I’ll believe you,” he begs at him, hands tightening in his shirt, shaking him slightly.
Jay’s brain stutters back to life at that, and he nods carefully, “Okay, okay, but Matt…it’s really gonna sound insane,” he whispers to him, voice breaking at the end.
Matt just shakes his head, shaking him a little harder, “I don’t care, Birdie, I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I’ll believe you, no matter what,” he says to him, eyes pleading, bottom lip trembling.
Jay just squeezes his eyes shut, breathes slowly out his nose, and begins to tell him everything.
He starts with the Skydome plan—the first time, the argument over him being pushed off the CN tower, his decision to leave without Matt, going back in time, telling his Matt he was going to leave him, Matt writing on the whiteboard, going their separate ways, becoming famous, realizing he hated being famous if Matt wasn’t there, killing that guy, running back to Matt, Matt getting himself killed. For him.
By the end of it, he’s reduced to tears, weeping quietly, barely able to get the words out. When he looks up, he sees Matt, tears rolling down his face, staring right back at him.
“I—I died?” he whispers, and the fear in his voice breaks Jay’s heart all over again.
He nods, “Yeah…It was all my fault, MJ, I should’ve never told you I was gonna leave, I don’t know what I was thinking—” and then he’s being tugged on, carefully cradled into Matt’s arms. He cries into his shoulder, choking on his own breath, fighting for more air.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now, Jaybird. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers to him, smoothing his hair out of his face.
Jay pulls back, and Matt brings his hands to cup his face, “Is this what all the nightmares have been about? Me dying?” he asks him.
“Mmm, yeah, I always see you…see you as a zombie. You always tell me it’s my fault,” he whimpers out, face crumbling again. Matt shushes him, brings him back into his chest.
“Oh Birdie, you should’ve told me sooner, we could’ve fixed this way earlier,” he tells him, pushing him back softly, catching his eyes carefully. “You know it’s not your fault—hey, hey, none of that, just listen for a sec, okay?” he implores, even as Jay shakes his head quickly, eyes squeezed shut.
“None of this is your fault, okay? I’d never want you to feel like it was, in any timeline, no matter how angry I was at you, okay?” he asks him, eyebrows raised, and Jay realizes he’s waiting for him to respond back.
Jay nods weakly, and Matt hums in agreement, before continuing on, “What I did was entirely my own decision, and you can’t be blamed for any of that. I’d die for you a million times over, Birdie, and I’d never regret it once,” he whispers to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then to the other, raises his head to plant a kiss on his forehead, then leans down and presses one to his nose.
This causes Jay to giggle, scrunching his nose lightly at the feeling, and Matt grins back, “There you are,” he softly says, pushing some hair back from his face and tucking it behind his ears.
“I’m glad you’re here, Matty,” Jay squeaks out, blinking sluggishly up at him. Matt just gently smiles back, pulls Jay forward again, pushes his nose into his hair.
“I’m glad I’m here too, Jaybird.”