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"Jay, Jay! Come over here, look at this." They're at the mall and Matt is standing by a kiosk of tabloids, shiny faces Jay only vaguely recognizes plastered across the covers.
"Okay what do you notice about all of these magazine covers?" Matt is looking at him expectantly, starting to radiate the kind of manic energy that can only come from a plan forming in his head in real time.
Truthfully, Jay has no idea what Matt wants him to say. All the magazine covers look the same, images of half dressed celebrities that all sort of blur together.
"They're all, celebrities? They're all dressed in clothes no one would ever actually wear?" Jay sort of mumbles his response, not fully committed to whatever Matt is goading him to say, it's clear Matt already has his response qeued regardless of what Jay says anyways.
"Well, yeah, but do you see the energy? The sex appeal? These people aren't just selling their product, they ARE the product, are you following me here, Jay?" He's already putting the magazines back on the shelf and giving Jay his full attention.
Jay gives a slight nod and gives Matt a look that he hopes conveys 'I'm listening' and not 'are you ever not talking?"
"That's us! That's how we get a show at the Rivoli! We take, I don't know, some stupid pictures like these nobodies and put them in a promo box and we drop them off at the Rivoli. How could they possibly deny us? We're going to blow their fucking minds Bird!" Matt is practically vibrating.
Jay can sort of feel some parts of his own mind starting to fire up just listening to Matt talk. He wouldn't ever admit it but this...this thing that Matt can do where he talks and talks and talks and it's like he's wrapping Jay up all neat and tidy, his words winding around him like a bow, maneuvering him, pulling him in and holding him there. The most obnoxious genie in the world.
"Yeah but how are we going to get pictures together? Do we really want..." Jay gestures disparagingly towards Jared and looks back at Matt, "taking our pictures? I don't know if I can trust that process, man." Matt gives Jared a neutral, unsympathetic look before turning his head back to Jay.
"Well we could just do each other, you trust me right? Just watch, I can make you a star!" His big stupid smile lights up his whole face. Makes him look young, just on the edge of that impish mischievousness Jay has gotten so accustomed to over the years. He claps his hand hard onto Jay's shoulder and pulls him in close. It's a sweltering day by Toronto standards and Jay inhales the vague damp scent of Matt's hair, feels the worn material of his old jacket. The faint smell of the cinnamon roll they shared earlier that day still lingers on his breath, sweet but slightly soured.
"Hey what makes you think I would trust you either?" For a small second Matt almost looks scandalized by Jay's response but Jay can see the smile tugging back at the corners of his wide lips when they make eye contact. Matt reaches over and roughly ruffles Jays hair with a heavy hand. Jay does everything he can not to lean up and into his touch like a cat getting scratched.
It's well into the afternoon when they finally start their trek back home, a few new clothing items in tow. ("I don't know Matt, are you sure this is the direction we want to go? Are you sure this is going to look okay?" "Jay can't you ever just listen to me? Stop whining and let me work my magic, you'll see.")
Matt picks out an outfit alarmingly, stupidly similar to his everyday uniform ("you don't want to mess with success and this is what always works for me!") but manages to convince Jay to buy a ridiculously overpriced white button down and jeans that are honestly way tighter than they would ever need to be, ("you're like a...like a fucking young Pacino or some shit Bird! We can't have you hiding that under those blazers forever!")
Jay vaguely remembers that Matt has a nice-ish camera from their childhood, some random hand-me-down from one of Matt's wealthy older relatives, stored away somewhere in their house.
Matt's walking at breakneck speed, Jared barely a few paces behind him while Jay lags in the back of them both. Even in the early evening hours the air feels heavy and warm, it's uncharacteristically humid and sticky. Jay can feel the weight of his hair sticking to his forehead and the dampness on his fingertips as he rubs them against his scalp. He hopes Matt will allow him enough time to freshen up some before shoving a camera in his face.
Matt is still talking, hurried glances down the barrel of the camera. Jay only half listens, watches as Matt shifts the bags of clothes from one hand into the other as he shrugs off his tan jacket and drapes it over one shoulder in a way that vaguely conjures a feeling from childhood of looking at men on their way home from work on the street cars. Jay remembers thinking that one day he would be a man like that. Heading home from some job to whatever life he ended up managing to build for himself. It didn't really feel real then, he didn't think it really needed to, but now as he edges further into 30 it somehow feels even less attainable than it had over 20 years ago.
But then there's Matt. Matt who seamlessly exists in every space exactly as himself, Matt who wouldn't live that life in any universe, Matt who is incapable of even pretending to try. Jay briefly imagines a version of himself as a child on the train quietly observing Matt, with his wild eyes and his too wide mouth and his mussed up hair sticking out in all directions and his camera shaped shadow trailing in his wake. How would he have felt? Would he have been nervous? Jealous? Intrigued? Jay barely even remembers his own father, men always felt like a distant observation and not a physical reality.
He's lost in the thought, only comes to when he feels Matt's heavy hand on his shoulder. "Jay are you even fucking listening to me?" He wasn't, he can see the beads of sweat collecting just on the edge of Matt's stupid hat, the slight puffiness under Matt's eyes like he never gets enough sleep.
Jay realizes only half a beat too late that he's staring at him instead of answering. "Yeah, sorry, think the heat's messing with my head or something."
Matt reaches over and musses his hair again, Jay can see the sweat from his scalp slick on Matt's fingers as he pulls them away.
"Well wake up Bird! Can't have you sleeping on the job!"
And it's something Jay is actually kind of self conscious about if he's being honest, the fact that he often accidentally falls asleep. So many times he has woken up to Matt poking and prodding at him or bursting into his room unannounced and yelling until Jay finally gets up, his soft hair sticking up at all angles.
Whereas it almost seems like Matt never sleeps, always seemingly strung out on his endless manic energy, a million different words scrambling to make it out of his mouth in rapid succession. Jay idly imagines the times Matt has fallen asleep on the couch during a movie he isn't particularly invested in; the way his breathing finally slows and his face softens, his wide eyes finally relaxed.
A lot of the time Jay falls asleep there too. Looking at the tension drain from Matt's body as he sinks down into the frayed, second hand pillows from Jay's old dorm makes his eyes feel heavy almost every time. They usually wake up in the early morning hours and either trudge back to their respective bunks or sometimes just lay back down and sleep again. Jay tries not to remember the few times he has seen Matt stand up from their shared slumber and almost boyishly try to hide the tent in his old worn pajama bottoms. Embarrassed in a way Jay has never seen him about anything else, fumbling with lazy hands, eyes still blurry with sleep. Jay would never dare to say anything.
"Yeah Matt, I'm here, I'm listening." Jay gives what he hopes is a reassuring, placating smile.
"Okay well like I was saying, are you sure you don't want Jared to take just a few of us together? That's usually how this works. I mean you've seen the tabloids, there's usually one of all of them and then the rest they're all separated and pretending they aren't even in the same band anymore or some shit." He feels the intensity of Matt's eyes on him.
"Okay, yeah, we can do that. But nothing too crazy Matt. Like I just want a decent picture of us, nothing ridiculous or complicated, okay?" Jay doesn't even know what he has in mind, he just knows Matt is usually trying to push his boundaries until they completely collapse and he doesn't want to come off looking stupid or embarrassing. The image of school picture day briefly flashing through his mind, always flinching and blinking at the worst possible moment.
"Bird, obviously! This is going to be great, everything you want it to be! You'll see." Matt winks at him just as Jay can see their home coming back into view.
Matt fumbles with their lock like he always does, the handle sticks and for some reason a weird feeling of panic passes through Jay's brain every time as if this will be the time it won't ever open again even though it always does. Jay can see the veins in Matt's hands swell as he applies more pressure, his fingers red from trying to force it open. He feels himself release a breath he didn't realize he was holding as soon as the door clicks open for them.
They pile in, Matt first followed closely by Jared and Jay closes the door behind them. The interior of the house is only a little cooler than the sweltering outside, their windows are old and their insulation is almost non-existent. Matt never seems to mind but Jay complains constantly, almost compulsively checking their thermostat on warmer days to make sure the air is still working. He glances over at it now, 26 but set to 23, could be worse. Jay absentmindedly holds a hand above one of their vents to gauge whether the air coming out is actually cool while he watches Matt take off his hat and worry his fingers through his sweat damp hair.
Matt claps his hands together in front of his chest, "Okay, Jared let me go get the camera for you. Jay -" he has his hands clasped together with his pointer fingers aimed towards Jay, "go clean yourself up, it's your big debut. I'll switch with you when you come out while Jared figures out the camera." He's already walking towards the stairs to dig his camera out from wherever it has been left to collect dust.
Jay takes his bag of the clothes Matt bought him into their tiny shared bathroom, its lack of windows makes it one of the most well air-conditioned rooms in the house. Jay's quietly thankful for that. He starts peeling the sweat slick clothes off of his body, every new area exposed instantly cooling under the vents.
He splashes some water on his face and looks in the mirror, tries not to notice the little crows feet forming in the corners of his eyes or the expression lines setting into his forehead or the flecks of gray in his chest hair. In his own mind he's still barely out of his teenage years, even though he's well aware he's already a few months into 30. When he thinks about getting older he barely feels like he's even in his own body, he cuts himself off before he can think about it too hard.
His new clothes feel clean and crisp against his skin, his fingers work nimbly over the buttons of his fresh shirt. It has been awhile since he has gotten anything new, maybe this whole idea was just Matt's way of trying to take him shopping. Jay hardly ever mentions it, but he is acutely aware of the fact that everything he has these days technically belongs to Matt. Not that Matt would ever bring it up, he'd never hold it against him, never make him feel guilty. Honestly, if pressed, Jay wouldn't even be able to cite how much money Matt has in his bank account, how he's able to fund this life for them. Only vaguely aware that there's a small trust with Matt's name on it that seemed to make him very uncomfortable whenever Jay used to try and bring it up.
He can hear Matt on the other side of the wall, chatting and rapid fire explaining some camera stuff to Jared. Matt can sound so competent when he really wants to, almost functional. Jay feels a kind of pride well up just thinking about it before squelching it back down and pulling on the rest of his clothes.
"Looking quite handsome there Bird, ready for our big moment?" Matt is standing next to Jared who's looking a bit awkward and holding Matt's dusty old camera. Jay looks down at the floor for a beat, just on the cusp of embarrassment.
"Oh don't get all shy on me now Jay! Not before it's our time to shine!" Matt is clearly just overblowing this stupid little photoshoot to amp Jay up, playing into his sensibilities and trying to get him excited. Things haven't been going well lately, too many failed plans, too many long nights and days Jay sleeps past noon and wakes up with a stiff neck and a pounding headache only to do it all over again the next day. The perpetual cycle he knows Matt is so comfortable with but that he isn't so sure about for himself.
Matt disappears into the bathroom, yelling over his shoulder "don't move, if you try to escape I'll lock you in the attic again!" He's clearly joking but truthfully Jay doesn't even think he would mind. They stopped having separate bedrooms a couple years ago.
Jay is lost in thought, zoning out when Matt bursts back into the living room. Immediately does a bit of a spin, light on his feet, briefly looks like a kid and not a guy rapidly approaching his own middle age.
"What do you think?" fingers pulling on his lapels in a dramatic little flourish for emphasis. Truthfully, Jay doesn't know what to say. He's not wearing his hat, he has a soft, open, cherubic caricature of a face. Jay almost thinks he could make himself look like anybody even if only for a moment.
"You look...good, man. You look like yourself." And it's true, the exact replica of his usual attire barely distinguishable from what Jay sees him in every day but without the sweat and miscellaneous stains.
Matt has somehow managed to clear a bunch of shit off the coffee table so it looks more appropriate and presentable for the pictures.
"Okay, come over here Jay. Let me focus on positioning you and you just focus on looking like a pretty birdie for the camera, yeah?"
Jay almost feels himself blushing as Matt softly guides him down onto their couch and stands next to him.
"Okay, Jared, let's start getting this okay? And no extra shit, just take the pictures when I say and then you can go." Jared nods behind the camera, moving it up and down.
A flash fills the room and Jay instantly feels more uncomfortable for some reason. Matt must feel him tense. "Jay these aren't fucking grade 8 dance pictures, what do I have to do to get you to loosen up?"
Jay shakes his head as if he's trying to reset himself.
"Actually you know what, look up at me for this one, yeah, yes, exactly." Matt is still standing and Jay is sitting, he cranes his neck up to look at Matt's face. Jared snaps another picture and Jay instantly feels his pulse quicken for reasons he can't quite explain.
"That's the spirit Jaybird! Let's keep it right there, perfect." Jay can't help but light up under the praise. The camera goes off as soon as Matt returns the smile.
Matt doesn't ask permission before threading his fingers through Jay's hair and tipping his head back a little more dramatically while pulling a silly face into the lens. Jay doesn't feel like any of this is funny, he's almost getting worked up just from feeling Matt's hands on him. It's pathetic but no one other than Matt has touched Jay in such a long time, it's like he's oversensitive to any form of contact. It's what he has to tell himself for it to make any sense.
He almost doesn't even hear Matt directing him, tunes in at the last possible second. "...and so then you'll get on the floor in front of me and I'll sit back, okay?"
"Wait, whoa, sorry," Jay looks briefly to Jared, "why am I getting on the floor?" He hopes Matt thinks the warble in his voice is annoyance and not anything else.
"I literally just explained this, like it literally just came out of my mouth" Matt makes a 'can you believe this guy?' gesture towards the camera.
"Because, Bird, you look like, so freakishly tall. Ghoulish, even. But when you're down a little lower it looks less jarring, more natural."
Jay literally feels himself throb and blush down his neck rolling the meaning of Matt's words over in his head. He thinks I look more natural beneath him.
"I don't know Matt I feel like this is more of your weird stuff, I don't know if I feel comfortable doing this." But he can already feel himself sinking from the couch onto the floor as Matt drops heavily onto the cushions still warm from where he was just sitting.
Matt spreads his knees and positions Jay's body between them. Jay can hear Matt snickering behind him and tries to will himself not to turn around but it's like some invisible force outside of him is already twisting his neck and there's nothing he can do about it. The warmth of Matt's body is already encasing him and he hears the click of the camera just as he and Matt make eye contact.
He doesn't quite know what he's expecting - taunting or derision or something cruel but he's met with a fondness that might be even more unsettling. Despite the tone of his laughter, Matt's smiling at him like he's the only other person in the room, like he's the only thing left, like he's the prize. It's almost like looking at the sun, Jay has to turn away before he gets burned. He stares at the floor, the assortment of crumbs from weeks worth of takeout and late night snacking are suddenly the most interesting things in the world. He feels his face continue to burn.
Matt's loud voice cuts through the silence of their living room and makes him jump, his shoulders brushing Matt's knees.
"Aaand that's a wrap, i think we can take it from here Jared, you're free, I'm releasing you back out into the wild. Try not to get picked up by some apex predator on your way back home." Matt makes a dismissive hand gesture and Jay feels glued to his spot on their carpet.
"Okay cool, good luck. I'll see you guys later." He's already packing away some of his camera equipment. Sometimes Jay resents the way Jared has the ability to come in and out of their lives whenever he wants, he probably has friends outside of this, maybe even a girlfriend. Is Jared married? He exists in some other, in between space; simultaneously inaccessible and also dependent.
Matt doesn't move either, if Jay listens carefully enough he can hear Matt's breaths coming out nice and even. Unfazed, unbothered, seemingly completely at ease. Meanwhile his pants are too tight and if he looks closely enough at his chest he's sure he'll be able to physically see his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt.
As soon as the front door closes Matt rises to his feet. "Now the real party can start, eh Jaybird? Strip for me." He sounds just on the border of hysterical and deadly serious, always living in some liminal space between the two.
"Shut up Matt" he can feel his hands coming up to rub his perpetually sleepy eyes.
"Oh that's perfect, use your bedroom eyes for me now Birdie, the women will love this" and he's already snapping pictures. Jay might as well be naked, trying to position his legs in front of him to hide the embarrassing proof of his nonsensical reaction to this. He honestly doesn't even want to imagine how seeing that evidence would fuel Matt's particularly annoying brand of derangement.
"No, I'm being serious now Jay, serious as a heart attack. Let me direct you. Get up on the couch again. Unbutton your top two buttons and think of the hottest girl you've ever seen. Maybe one from that shit you're always watching on your computer when you think I'm asleep." His stupid smile reveals nothing, half of his face hidden behind the camera. The entire atmosphere has changed into something almost unrecognizable, something that feels just short of actual danger.
Despite himself, Jay listens. Fingers fumbling the still stiff buttons of his new shirt. Fleeting images flash through his mind. There's some truly nasty, exploitative shit out there. Nervous girls on couches, nervous girls with their fingers on their buttons in front of a camera, nervous girls who swear they've never done this before, nervous girls who still do what they're told despite it all. Jay feels the cool air hit his freshly exposed chest.
Matt's wolf whistle breaks him from his trance, he still feels stupid and embarrassed as he hears the click of the camera.
"God damn Jay keep going, this camera totally loves you dude. Show some more skin and smile pretty for the picture Birdie."
This is getting completely out of hand, Jay feels any semblance of control slipping through his fingers, something he can never hold for long enough to know what to do with it.
Jay can hear himself panting, his heart hammering inside of his chest. They've never gone here before, they've come close, sure. Matt loves a game of gay chicken more than anyone but this feels like something else. He almost unconsciously reaches down between his legs to adjust himself in the too tight pants that are squeezing him.
"Oh don't get all prudish on me now, not when we're just getting to the fun part." Jay runs a hand through his hair and bucks his hips up to find some relief in the friction. He must not be as subtle as he thinks he is because Matt immediately snaps another picture and makes a noise Jay can't quite place. Something like a scoff but not quite.
"Let yourself go Bird. You're the girl and I'm the fucking, the fucking disgusting, irredeemable photographer. Imagine me wearing some stupid ugly sunglasses and chain-smoking cigarettes inside a hotel room. Yeah, that's right, I can see it all now. You can act all shy but you know why you're here, you know what you're doing. Keep going, you're almost there."
Jay tries to steal a glance down at the front of Matt's ridiculous ripped up jeans, desperate for some evidence that Matt's suffering the same reaction as he is but instead Matt immediately blinds him with the flash of the camera.
"Oh my God you're practically drooling here Jay! Have some class, have some dignity, ever heard of it? Why don't you, I don't know, you'd probably do anything by now, eh? Oh I know, let's play a game called 'what wouldn't you do for me if I asked?' right now okay, ready?"
Jay feels the sweat collecting on his brow, he feels like he's under a spell, like he's dreaming. A vague memory of someone, maybe even Matt, telling him that if you're ever wondering whether or not you're in a dream, one of the ways you can always tell is by looking at the backs of your own hands. If they look clear you're awake but if they look mishmashed and incomprehensible you're dreaming. He looks down and sees his hands, gripping helplessly into the outsides of his thighs with perfect clarity. Fuck. He can feel his head moving up and down as they lock eyes with each other.
"Okay I'll go first" Matt's voice feels so precise, familiar yet it's almost like he's listening to it from underwater. "Put your fingers in your mouth." Teasing, needling, Jay knew this was a bad idea but he had no idea Matt would ever be willing to take it this far.
Jay can't help it now, he gives himself a quick squeeze between his legs first while Matt snaps another picture. "You are so fucking dirty Jaybird, I should have known you'd be easy though. Slightest bit of attention and you're already -" Matt makes a dramatic flourish with his free hand, like a flower blooming "opening right up for me."
Jay doesn't think too hard about it, he does what feels natural, he hardly has any blood left in his brain anyway. He puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks.
The room is dead silent. He briefly wonders if he has somehow completely fucked up, miscalculated, done something wrong. He forces himself to finally look up and make eye contact with Matt, gently dragging the pad of his thumb over his bottom teeth. And...
Oh
The expression on Matt 's face has entirely shifted from sadistic cruelty to something softer, something almost entirely unreadable and somehow this feels even further into uncharted territory. Jay remembers what it was like for him in junior high school. How he wouldn't even realize he was doing it sometimes. How people, other kids and even the teachers would talk about it. How disgusted his mother would sound when it was brought up in whispers during conferences. How he had to explain over and over again that he didn't know why he still did this, how he didn't even know when he was doing it until it was too late and he was having to pull it out. How Matt was the only one who ever acted like it was no big deal.
Somehow he doesn't feel as embarrassed now, the memory makes him bolder. They aren't kids anymore, this isn't for anyone else, no one will ever have to see any of this if they don't want them to, they're in the only world that makes sense to either of them.
He softly thrusts the pad of his finger in and out of his mouth, his eyes only briefly leaving Matt's to look down at the bulge in his own jeans before looking back up at Matt through his lashes. Matt doesn't take the picture, just stares at Jay with his mouth a bit slack. Jay swears his pupils look dilated.
"You're just so...you're just so fucking good for me Birdie. It's why I can't, why I always want to, God, just like, keep you. I can't let you go anywhere, not when you're like this." Matt's voice sounds raw, it's like Jay can feel the emotions that are welling up inside him, swears he can almost impossibly see what's in Matt's mind sometimes.
They're not quite teenagers and they're at Matt's house, it's bigger than Jay's, there's less supervision, his parents are out at some event and they're watching a movie on the floor in their pajamas. Jay's thinking he never wants to go home and Matt's thinking whatever it is that Matt thinks.
Then they're older, on the cusp of adulthood and Jay is telling Matt that he got into a really good school, that his mom is never going to let him say no. Matt is smiling so wide Jay swears it looks like a bad horror movie. Matt's trying not to cry but it's not working so he's just smiling with tears in free fall down his cheeks. The television is on, Jay can hardly look Matt in the eyes the next day when he pretends to hold him hostage with a bb gun and they both wish it was the real thing.
Now they're in their living room and Jay can't help it and he's going to fucking finish here on their couch after hardly even touching himself and Matt can't stop himself from saying, "Please, please, right here, you can do it right here" in a voice Jay has never heard before and suddenly they aren't playing a game anymore and Jay isn't sure if they ever were in the first place.
"Matty, I need it, I need it so bad" Jay would feel pathetic if he wasn't actually on the cusp of crying real tears. And he's flexing his hands into his own thighs and writhing and it's nothing like the girls in any of the videos and he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by some huge unknowable thing that has always lived with them but never unveiled itself until right now.
"Give it to me Birdie. I'll take it, I'll always take it, just let me fucking have it, please "
Matt's voice is quiet and he's still holding the camera almost like a shield. Jay can just barely see his whole face, can tell Matt's been biting his lips until they're red and swollen and suddenly Jay can't help it. He squeezes himself so hard it almost hurts through the oppressively tight fabric and that's all it takes.
He's spilling over the edge into the abyss until he's seeing stars behind his eyelids. Thinks about Matt with bed head and glassy eyes as he tries and fails to hide the only intimate thing that truly seems to make him afraid. Matt with one foot in the door of reality and the other firmly in some obscured universe that only seems to welcome the two of them. His head is spinning and his pants are ruined by the time he opens his eyes.
Matt is still there, eyes locked on him from behind the the camera. No sound, no flash, no picture, just Matt framing him perfectly through the lens. When Matt finally lowers it, Jay almost swears it looks like he was crying.
"What if I yelled like 'encore' and was super serious about it and made you do it all again. HA can you even imagine? Do you think you'd be able to? Like if I was really adamant about it, do you think you could?" He's talking fast, flirting with the edge of his particular breed of delirium. Back in semi familiar territory.
"I mean I guess that depends, is any of that even usable? Is it good enough to get us a show at the Rivoli? Please tell me you at least got something Matt, I was giving the performance of a lifetime over here."
And just like that it's all back in place. The dirty dishes in the sink, the unmade bunks, the wrinkled curtains, all staring them down with startling clarity. Somewhere outside there's a siren, there are people laughing, there's a dog barking, they're inside their home and it's the middle of the year. It's all stretched out in front of them endlessly, unfurling like an open palm.