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So drugs are bad. Okay. Lesson learned.
Sure, they help you win Goldeneye tournaments and overcome the flu and make you declare bold, far-reaching statements about the future of you and your best friends’ relationship, but they’re bad. Really.
What was it that Jay said? We’re going to have a nice, happy life together. Of course they are. As long as neither of them accidentally poison the other to death with street drugs.
At this rate, they’re at risk of becoming two of Toronto Western Hospital’s most frequent fliers. Matt can’t even feel that bad that it’s Jay in the hospital bed this time and not him– still gets nightmares about invisible fists and Jay yelling his name in the pitch dark. It’s not awesome being on the other side of the equation either, though, looking down at Jay dressed in one of those stupid blue hospital gowns. Matt hopes he’s up and yelling at him soon. God, hospitals are boring as hell.
It’s Matt who wakes him up, in the end, same as it was Matt who put him to sleep. He burps, and Jay’s eyes flutter open like he was summoned, like some kind of magic curse had been lifted. Awesome.
Matt feels the same kind of blood-fizzling potential-brimming kick of delight in his chest pretty much every morning, every time he gets to start another day with his B-Friend by his side. It’s stupid and annoying and more than anything it’s gay as fuck, but Matt came to terms with all that bullshit a long time ago. It’s just the way things seem to be, and watching Jay wake up now makes that same feeling rise again, stronger than ever. He fights the urge to use his plastic chair as a stool, to get up and do his Mad Scientist impression. It’s aliiiiive!
“Jay! Bird,” he says instead. Shoots up from his seat and gives Jay’s shoulder a couple jostling pats. “Hey hey hey, you alright?”
“What happened?” Jay mumbles groggily, disgustingly endearing.
Ah, shit. Right. Matt should have used the past few hours as planning time, clearly, because he has no reasonable explanation at hand when Jay is immediately stressed and confused and wanting to call a nurse, of all people! As if some rando doctor could ever know a fraction as much as Matt about Jay’s life, his body, his situation at any given point in time or space up to and including this moment right now.
“Okay- lemme tell you what happened, alright?” Matt folds, cards in the wind. Maybe if he says it quick enough Jay will let it go. “I switched the candy you were eating for speed.”
Jay’s looking up at him with that blank, glazed over expression that means he’s trying to process something. Poor Bird.
“I gave you drugs.” Might as well make it super clear. Least he can do, probably.
“You sonofabitch,” Jay curses, which is such a rarity in and of itself that Matt has to take a second to recalibrate.
“I’m sorry, man,” he goes with, pleading, playing the sympathy game. He doesn’t have to reach too far to find the tears that will earn him Jay’s forgiveness, this time.
There’s a moment where Jay turns from him, rolls his head away dramatically and leaves Matt staring at the scruffy underside of his jaw, and Matt’s stomach does a fun little trick where it mimes plummeting to his knees, the basement of the hospital, hell.
Whatever. It’s not like Matt was trying to make his heart explode. He actually likes Jay’s unexploded heart. He daydreams sometimes about cutting it out of his chest and eating it with fava beans, but that’s only because of how much he likes it. Besides, he hasn’t, has he? He has so graciously not sliced and diced his best friend into small, consumable pieces even once after all these years. Jay should be thanking him for his restraint but instead he’s pouting and turning away as if Matt has done something unforgivable, and not just been trying, as always, to help them achieve their shared dream together.
“I’m sorry,” Matt repeats, mostly genuine even through the crocodile tears. He’ll repeat it as many times as he has to.
Matt feels a familiar pang of gratitude for the way Bird has softened over the years when he leans in for a hug and isn’t instantly shoved to the gross hospital floor.
“C’mon,” Jay says, soft, which is even better. He brings his hands up to hold onto Matt’s shoulders as he folds awkwardly into his space. Matt feels him pat a couple times in a perfunctory, bro-type way. He ignores this signal and presses in closer, just barely resisting the urge to climb up onto the hospital bed.
“Matt, it’s fine,” Jay mutters, sounding a little annoyed but without any real anger. Matt wonders if the doctors gave him something to mellow him out. If they somehow predicted this reconciliation would be a part of the treatment plan.
“It was actually-” Matt cuts himself off with a sniff. Presses his forehead into Jay’s shoulder hard and rolls the words around behind his teeth.
This is already bordering on saccharine, he shouldn’t push it much further. Jay’s pretty dumb but he’s not a complete idiot. Amp up the emotion and he might start to suspect he’s being tricked, even if the sentiment is real.
“What?”
Fine, Bird, if you insist.
“It was pretty bad, actually. Like, scary. When you were on the floor like that. I thought maybe- I don’t know. I don’t know.” Matt’s glad his face is hidden because the tears have run dry and he knows in their place is an intensity that will freak Jay out– will swerve them messily into a whole different genre.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have poisoned me, then,” Jay says, bratty. Good, Matt thinks. This is safer territory.
“I didn’t make you eat the whole bottle, dude, you probably woulda been fine if-”
“You told me it was candy!” Jay squawks. Delightful.
“Oh, what, so I should be in charge of making sure you don’t put yourself into a sugar coma?” Matt backs up a little, deeming a bit of distance to be safe enough. He keeps his arms around Jay’s neck, because he knows how to seize an opportunity when it’s presented to him on a silver platter or hospital cot.
“You should be making sure I don’t fall into a DRUG coma, Matt!” Jay’s proper whining now, hands slipping from around Matt’s shoulders to cling to his biceps instead. Nice. Matt doesn’t flex because that would be stupid and obvious. He thinks about it, though.
Matt laughs, feeling almost giddy with relief. Jay is alive and bickering with him, the sun will rise again, they’ll take the guest spot on that geek’s podcast, and probably book a show at the Rivoli the day after that.
“Oh man, oh Jaybird. It was barely even a coma. Like, the smallest little nap. You’re so dramatic!” Matt pitches forwards, wrapping Jay in a hug that feels more like a headlock. Fights with himself and wins– doesn’t crush his little Birdie’s skull in.
“Ugh,” Jay complains, muffled and frankly pretty half-hearted. Maybe it’s the drugs.
“You’re gonna be fine, Bird.” Matt rolls a set of dice in his head. Snake-eyes. “We’re gonna have a nice, happy life together, eh?”
“Uh. What?” Jay goes rigid in his hold. Bingo.
“What d’you mean, what? That’s what you said, isn’t it?”
“I don’t- that’s-”
“You don’t want to have a happy life with me?” Matt gasps, faux offended.
“I didn’t say that!” Jay falls for it, like always. Matt feels him pet along his arms awkwardly, like he’s trying to soothe a startled horse. Man, Jay would look so badass riding a horse. “I wanna have, uhm, I want to…”
Matt decides to help him out. He’s generous like that. “You want to grow old and wrinkly with me, Jaybird? Wanna get matching grandpa slippers? Get married about it? Mash our dentures together?” Wait, what?
“Yeah, Matt,” Jay sighs.
“WHAT?” Matt yells, sorta, by accident. He pulls away so hard and fast that he slips, tumbling backwards onto the floor. Oh, gross. He closes his eyes and tries to re-organize the past ten seconds into a sequence that makes sense. Floors are good venues for this type of activity, anyways.
“SORRY!” Jay’s stupid fluffy bird head peaks over the side of the bed, looking down at him. His face is bright red, eyes wide with fear. He’s so embarrassing. All of this is so embarrassing.
“Are you being for real right now, Bird? Is this for real? Real life?”
“You started it! Matt! You literally started it!” Jay argues, distress radiating off him in waves. Notably, this is not a denial of anything.
Matt rises to his knees, bringing him eye-level with Jay, who’s got the thin hospital sheets clenched in his fists and pulled up near his chin. He hums, assessing. The mosaic of their friendship splits apart in his mind, rearranging into some strange shape that casts the two of them in a beautiful new light. He can work with this.
“Jay,” he reaches up, running his fingers light across Jay’s bony knuckles, “calm down, Bird. Christ.”
Jay blinks at him, slowly. Processing. His frantic breathing evens out with the proximity, same as it always does.
“You wanna marry me, Birdie?” Matt just can’t resist. Jay drops the sheets, hands slapping over his eyes and making a sound like when you step on a puppy’s tail. He’s so much like an ostrich when he does this, sticking his little head in the dirt.
“Come onnnn,” Matt wheedles, poking at his cheeks, tugging lightly at his hair. “Say yes, Jaybird, I know you want to! You totally wanna gay marry me- hah! Oh man, this is great. C’mon Bird, don’t leave me hanging. That’s messed up dude. Look, I’m on my knees and everything, all I need is a- mmph!”
Blue screen. Sucker punch. Ow, Jay.
Jay’s lips are pressed to his own like something out of a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Matt feels, all at once, how the RCA cables must have felt in the millisecond after they were cut.
They’re both stock still, and Matt’s got his eyes open and can see how tightly Jay’s are screwed shut. This close, Matt can see the faint freckles smattering his cheeks, and feels a surge of fondness so intense he’s surprised he stays upright.
He tries to speak but he’s scrambled to hell and back and he forgets to pull away– slots their lips together on an exhale instead and holy shit Jay’s mouth is so warm, so soft, and when he gasps into Matt’s it’s like all the conducting cables in his brain fizzle and fry and burn out at the same time.
He tastes terrible, objectively, but Matt doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a single shit– is up from the floor and onto the rickety hospital bed in a flash, pushing Jay back against the pillows and licking into his mouth before he can change his mind or Matt wakes up from this awesome, awesome dream.
“Oh! Um, sorry guys, I’ll just… uh….”
They both freeze at the stranger’s voice from behind them, Matt whipping his head around and just barely managing not to fall down for a second time. Jay might have something to do with that, given how tightly he’s gripping the lapel of his jacket.
A young, nervous looking nurse– or doctor, whatever, who cares– stands in the doorway, clutching an iPad to her chest and staring studiously at the ceiling.
“There was an abnormal rhythm on the, um, heart-monitor. Just checking in, but it seems like. Well. Maybe just keep any strenuous activity to a minimum? Okay I’m. Going now,” and she does, ponytail swishing behind her and door slamming shut.
Matt stares after her for a second, dizzy. Nervous for whatever expression he’ll find on Jay’s face when he turns back. There’s a hesitant little tug on his jacket, and all of a sudden Matt remembers that Jay is a big stupid idiot who wants to gay marry him, and also his best friend in the entire world.
“Matt. Oh my god,” He’s saying, giggling, and when Matt looks back down at him he finds his cute little vampire teeth all on display and feels like a million bucks. Like he could rule the world, and also like he doesn’t even have to because here is Jay, his Jay, looking up at him like he already does.
“Bird,” he says, ecstatic, lightheaded. He ducks back down to kiss Jay’s forehead, his cheek, that funny beaky nose. It feels like all the nerve endings in his body are being lit up at once, like he’s experiencing the most pleasant death-by-electrocution of all time.
“Bird. Bird. Is this- is this what it felt like?” Delirious, that's the word for it.
“Wha-?”
“Speed, Birdie. Is this what it felt like to do all those drugs?” Matt gasps into the side of his head, where he’s been nuzzling at a lovely cluster of grey hairs.
Jay stills underneath him, and then all of a sudden Matt is back on the ground where Jay’s unceremoniously shoved him off the bed.
“Too soon, Matt! I’m still mad at you for that,” comes a disembodied whine.
Matt doesn’t worry, because he can hear the smile in Jay's voice and is too busy laughing to care, anyway.
When he closes his eyes, he can see stars. Taste the future. Drugs are awesome.