How lovely the silence of growing things

[Brayden Smith]

The only thing that got Bray through the exhausting days after he and Jack saw those visions was the knowledge that he would soon have some alone time with his lover. It was all arranged by Allie; Bray was going to the motel room that Allie rented out for him, and Jack would join him later, coming straight from the community college.

Despite their hectic private lives, they still had to make an effort to live normally, after all--that meant work had to be done, classes needed to be taught and for Bray, paperwork had to be shuttled back and forth.

He didn't mind going to work, actually. It brought some normalcy back into his life. In the midst of all the magic and sorcery, visions and past lives, paperwork provided a sense that things weren't all crazy. There were still forms to fill, professors to hound for paperwork and lunches with Jack out on the hill in front of the student union building, a staple of their lives even before all of this madness occurred.

But undeniably, Bray had lost his simple, easy life. Marge shadowed him to and from work now, since she took the night shifts at the club. Any time he stepped outside he felt a sense of unease, like he was being watched. Yet back at the apartment there were so many people that he felt claustrophobic and crowded, so it was... safer at home, but not much better. They were all suffering, though, so Bray didn't complain to anyone and kept it all to himself.

Which was why he felt bad as he slipped out under the pretense of going for groceries, while Marge was taking a brief nap before work. Poor Marge pulled double duty, working her job and protecting them. Bray wanted to thank her somehow... This was probably not it. But he would be with Jack, and Allie! And it was only for a few hours, just to get away from the others and to have some time to themselves. Bray wanted to hold Jack and be with him. He wanted to be able to kiss Jack without feeling like someone was watching--usually Raf, with a very obvious kind of admiration on his face. He was sweet, but... sometimes it made Bray uncomfortable.

So he slipped out and made his way to Little Asia, to the quaint motel with its obvious Asian decorations--red paper lanterns, gilt dragons, bamboo screens. He met Allie in the lobby and was ushered into a room. Allie hugged him fondly; they hadn't seen one another in so long! But they could catch up later, Allie said with a wink as he handed Bray...

"Ah." Condoms and lube. Hm. Bray laughed gently and let himself be pushed inside. It was the standard motel room, with one big bed in the middle of the room, a television, table and chair. He dropped off the condoms and lube at the bedside table and sat down to wait. Bray smiled to himself. This was kind of fun, he thought. Some couples did this--pretend they didn't know each other, role play a 'first encounter' type of scenario. Was that kinky? Or normal? He might have to ask Jack about it...

Somebody slid a keycard into the door and Bray sat up straighter, his heart inexplicably beating faster in his chest. He patted himself down. Jack would like the colorful clothes he wore--with Allie's help. A nice soft, pastel aquamarine sweater, dark wash navy trousers; nothing fancy, but not that tan-beige color palette that everyone seemed to find so abhorrent. He had done his hair slightly differently, too, than the usual neat part. It had a little more artful mess to it tonight.

[Ripper Nightshade]

So.

This was it.

He was doing what he was ordered to do: finding Brayden Smith. Once he found him, then what? Would he have to go back to Pax? Of course he would. And there would be no orders, new directives. Ah, well. He was going to miss the freedom of being a person. A golem-person, as Mik called him. But person. That was the part he held onto because he couldn't help the golem part. But he could do something about the person part. Like... be a person. And not some automaton.

But he hadn't been that for a while now.

Still, he felt strangely out of his depth, going to a motel room like this on his own. Allie had given him the card to get into his room and Rip felt oddly apprehensive about it. Once he entered, it would just be him and... Brayden Smith. Surely, he would know that he was not Jack. But... Allie seemed convinced and were they not close friends?

Part of this was also to lead his friends to Jack, as well. He didn't know how he would pull that part off, since he was pretending to be Jack. He couldn't very well ask where Jack was or get his number when he was supposed to be him. But he would play it by ear; it was really the only way Rip knew how to do anything, without his creator or his new owner to tell him what to do.

That was where the real apprehension grew from; being alone. Rip didn't like being alone. He didn't like having nobody there to turn to, but that wasn't the only reason. After so many days on his own in the old apartment in Greenwood, the intense dislike of being alone had only grown over time. And now he was spoiled; he was hardly ever alone.

He stood outside that motel room for a long moment before he finally used the card. It took him two tries--he used it the wrong way at first--and then he was opening the door, half hoping that he would arrive first so he could get a lay of the land. No such luck. Brayden Smith--for that must have been him--was already there.

Rip's hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He had been told to "look good" by Allie, which he wasn't sure about. He thought he looked good most of the time... did he not? Mik said he did, all the time. So he took care with his favorite gold and black eye makeup, which matched nicely with a fancy looking coat he found on a thrift store rack. Underneath was a simple white button up--one could find one of those anywhere. His black leather pants and a pair of black and cream wing tip shoes finished the ensemble.

He didn't know if he still passed as Jack. He spent a good while in front of the mirror fretting over it, but in all honesty, without having met the man himself, he could only hope he had gone in the right direction.

Slipping into the room like he didn't belong (because he truly felt that way), Rip let the door close behind him with a gentle click. For a moment, he foolishly just stood in the doorway, feeling not only apprehensive but... oddly connected in that moment, when his gaze met Brayden Smith's. He was sitting on the bed when Rip opened the door.

Really, he shouldn't even have memories of Brayden Smith, since he was created before Jack met him. And his soul had been taken from Jack before then, so the memories shouldn't have been there but somehow, there were memories. A sort of jumbling of them, but memories, none the less.

Clearing his throat, Rip moved forward enough to set the motel card down on the table nearby.

"Hey," he said, throat feeling dry. He felt like he was going to be seen straight through in a second.

[Brayden Smith]

By the time Jack entered the room, Bray was on his feet and almost as soon as the keycard landed on the desk, his arms were around Jack. Just a hug—a simple, warm hug that felt like a luxury and a privilege when they lived with as many people as they did. For a long, long moment Bray didn't move. He wanted to soak in the feeling of being alone with Jack finally, with the freedom to do anything they wanted. They didn't have to do anything, but he wanted to have options at the very least.

"Hey," Bray said belatedly as he eased back, smiling up at Jack. "You got new clothes."

They both got new clothes! It was cute that they thought along similar lines; Bray went out and got some new things, Jack did too. He even put on makeup; it suited him. On anyone else it might have seemed over-done but on Jack, it looked fitting. It looked good and he looked good, too. He even smelled different. New cologne? Jack really went all-out, didn't he?

Gently, Bray slid a hand up to his cheek, trying to guide his head down for a kiss. "I can't believe we're getting away with this," he admitted sheepishly, knowing that once they got back there might be big trouble from Marge.

[Ripper Nightshade]

Ah. A hug! Rip blinked but his arms moved of their own accord, wrapping around Brayden like they were made just so. Interesting, how they seemed to fit right together, like their bodies meant to melt into one another even just in embracing one another. It felt... nice. Briefly, he lowered his head and rested it on Brayden's shoulder and that, too, felt natural. Like muscle memory.

"What?"

Rip looked down at his clothes, almost ready to panic. Brayden didn't recognize these clothes. Of course he didn't; they weren't... Jack's. He half smiled.

"Yeah..." he said, slightly abashed for being called out on it. Really, it was just the coat, but that was only because he had been told not to wear the lizard coat. (His favorite, thank you very much.) Was this beyond what Jack might wear? No, no. It seemed okay, because Brayden was still smiling at him and his smile made Rip smile, too.

A hand on his cheek. Oh. Were they...? His heart beat faster. Oh, was he... should he be...? Was this what...? He was confused now. Instead of kissing, they just sort of... nuzzled. Noses brushed and Brayden said something about getting away with this, whatever it was. What were they getting away with? He felt like he had just sat down mid-movie and didn't know where he was supposed to be going with this.

"...getting away with what?"

[Brayden Smith]

No kiss? Bray was expecting a kiss but their noses met instead of their lips, and he smiled with mild bemusement. Jack was being oddly restrained; he might have thought that he'd be spoiled with kisses by now, given the way that Jack could barely keep his hands off of him at home. (Bray had the same issues, though, which was why people had labeled them as being 'handsy' lately.)

Or maybe Jack wanted to be spoiled with kisses? Bray could certainly do that! He wanted to every second that they were together but could do nothing more than hold hands or sit close to one another. Besides, in keeping with the theme of being a better, bolder Brayden, he should do his fair share of initiating affection and intimacy—and kisses.

"Getting away with... this..." Bray murmured as now both hands cupped Jack's cheeks. He was so handsome that it almost hurt to look at him. To think—he found somebody like Bray attractive, too. That was still a little hard to believe! Bray pulled him closer even as he arched up, seeking the kiss that could express all of his longing and love and affection for Jack. Moments like these were rare and one kiss could say far more than even a hundred well thought-out words!

[Ripper Nightshade]

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

The kiss was so loving, so affectionate. And his hands were so warm on his cheeks. Where did his own hands go? He lifted them slowly to Brayden's waist but that felt so oddly chaste for a kiss so familiar and so full of yearning. Rip's heart beat faster, even if part of him felt like he was doing something... wrong, he didn't pull away. If anything, he pulled Brayden in closer by those hands at his hips.

Their bodies met and it felt... right. Soon, one of his hands moved to cup Brayden's cheek and it was just as warm and soft as his kisses. Without thinking about it, he deepened the kiss, all words flying out of his head.

Something inside him felt warmer and brighter and strangely giddy in a way he could not recall ever feeling about anything or anyone in his entire life. Granted, it was a relatively short life but... But... what was this feeling? And why did it ache so sweetly inside, like something was squeezing his heart? (That didn't sound pleasant but somehow... it was, and wasn't at the same time.)

He found he liked stroking Brayden's cheek, his hair, the back of his head. At some point, he could no longer breathe for all the kisses they shared and he murmured into his soft hair, "You're so pretty... like a glittering star in the night sky."

It was not a typical sentiment of his but it wanted terribly to be spoken in the moment. And he remembered the way the word star made him feel, strangely nostalgic for home, although even he had no definition of home when he heard it.

[Brayden Smith]

Ah... This was more like it. The way that the kiss deepened was familiar even if those careful hands at his waist weren't. But soon Jack was pulling him close with those very same shy hands and the warmth of their bodies mingling made everything right again. Bray's hands dropped to Jack's shoulders, then slid around them to pull him even closer. The way that one kiss melted straight into the next made his heart soar.

This was where he belonged. Not in this little quaint motel but within Jack's arms, within the heart that beat in time to his own. Their lights, their souls, everything that they were fit perfectly together. No matter how tragic their past lives were, Bray was almost sure that there had been moments like these that made the heartache worth it. He wouldn't trade this love for anything in the world.

"You're my star," Bray laughed softly, letting one of his hands drift up to release Jack's hair, to let it fall. He liked Jack's hair whether it was up or down, but he also liked running his hands through it, picking up sleek, dark curls, letting them sift through his fingers. There was just something so comforting in their closeness that soft touches like these evolved naturally out of that mutual desire to express their love for one another in every possible way.

"And I finally caught you, and I'm not letting you go. Ever." He eased back to get a better look at Jack. So handsome. There was an ethereal quality to his beauty that couldn't be described in so many words. It had to be felt. It had to be admired in person and up close. But up close, Bray saw something else in his eyes that he hadn't seen before. Strange...

"Are you tired?" Maybe the visions had taken more of a toll than he'd thought. Maybe that odd, unfamiliar look in Jack's eyes was just... being haunted by visions of Bray dying. Gently he kissed Jack again, holding it for many beats too long, letting it deepen and then end naturally without the need to rush. And when it ended, he didn't go far. "Do you want to lay down with me?"

[Ripper Nightshade]

"You're a star," he said, almost argumentatively. Not aggressive, just... It felt like Brayden Smith was the star between the two of them. There was a light in his eyes that Rip had never seen before. It... it wasn't meant for him, though, he realized, as he stared into those eyes. Why... did that realization hurt so much?

Ah. He had tied the hair back because Allie said to "do something with it" and he didn't know what that meant. It seemed Brayden liked it better loose. Looking back at Brayden, he found his heart beating faster for a different reason now. Brayden was studying him with that soft gaze of his; it didn't look at all judgmental or suspicious. But it still made Rip nervous. Perhaps there was something about Jack that Rip didn't have. A freckle, a mole, a scar?

"No?" he said. Should he be tired? Rip was actually full of energy. Did he appear tired or was... Jack tired? When was the last time they saw one another? Allie seemed to think it had been a while but... that was because he thought Rip was Jack and they were separated, which obviously... the two were not.

Was Jack going to show up? Was he supposed to be here?

But whatever seemed to give Brayden pause for a moment seemed to pass because Brayden kissed him again and it was a nice kiss, another loving kiss, not a perfunctory kiss, not a peck.

"Okay." He took Brayden's hand and led him to the bed. Were they only going to lie down together? Was that the plan? Gently, he kicked off his shoes and nudged them aside before he dropped down onto the bed, edging over to give Brayden room to join him. Not sure what to do other than lie down, he sort of... maybe laid on his side of the bed like "one of those french girls." He gazed up at Brayden with hooded eyes, then patted the bed beside him.

[Brayden Smith]

"We are both stars," said Bray with amusement coloring his tone, as he tried to find a middle ground for this funny little disagreement. Jack called him a star and Bray called Jack a star; they both were stars, twinkling away separately not knowing that the other was out there, longing to find its partner. But when they were together, when they finally united, their lights shone ten times as strong.

In many ways they were star-crossed lovers too, weren't they? With their fates bound to one another but steeped in death and intrigue and heartbreak, they hadn't had many good and peaceful lives in the past, it seemed. Bray couldn't be sure which direction this one would go in, but if he had to lose his life, he would go down fighting. And he would spend every waking moment letting Jack know just how much he loved him.

He toed off his shoes neatly beside the bed and watched as Jack laid down on his side. The pose... It made his lips quirk, and then he couldn't help laughing at the funny expression on Jack's face. A sultry kind of come-hither expression, coupled with an outrageous pose. Bray quickly got into bed with him and curled up beside him, still laughing. "You're so silly," he murmured fondly as he slipped a leg over Jack's, and an arm over his chest. Bray felt the planes of his chest underneath his fingers. Firm. Warm.

The hand slid up, around, to the back of Jack's neck and played with the loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you."

[Ripper Nightshade]

Confusion crossed his expression for a moment but he couldn't help but laugh, too. Brayden's buoyant mood lifted his own. He didn't know quite what was so funny but if Brayden thought it was funny, Rip thought so, too.

Silly wasn't what he had been going for but Brayden seemed to like it so he went with it, smiling as Brayden drew closer. Oh, were they really going to lie on the bed together? This was new. Rip was accustomed to things happening in beds. Even when he went to sleep with Keith, it was after Keith was done with him. Luckily, Keith let him lay with him afterward, as long as he had nothing else to do and intended to sleep anyway.

But Keith...

Keith was leagues away from this. And Brayden. Just being close to Brayden made his heart beat faster, maybe a little out of apprehension but also... something else. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off him.

So, this was Brayden Smith. He found him; now he only hoped that his job in finding him didn't involve something terrible. Oh, if he had to hurt him... he couldn't imagine doing it. He didn't want to do that. Honestly, he didn't want to hurt anyone, not little goldfish trapped in tiny bowls, nor tiny helpless kittens, and definitely not smiling Brayden Smith with a smile that made his heart beat faster and a laugh that made it do flip flops in his chest.

"Hmm..." Rip let out a soft hum of contentment as Brayden toyed with his hair. His eyes briefly closed. It felt good, right there, especially at the nape of his neck. Without even thinking about what he saying, he whispered, "I love you, too..."

He couldn't, could he? Love somebody he literally just met? But he didn't open his eyes. The words felt right. And Brayden said he loved him... even if he didn't really love him. Ah. Why did that make his heart hurt so badly? He... he never experienced anything like it before. When he opened his eyes, there was no way he could disguise the emotions that flickered inside. But here he was, body intertwined with Brayden, close enough to kiss him again, close enough to touch his chin and his jaw and sift fingers through his hair--which he did.

"I've dreamed of you," he confessed.

[Brayden Smith]

Jack looked so pained that Bray's heart throbbed sympathetically too, and he drew even closer so that he could hold him. Why did he look like that? Why did his eyes reflect such disappointment and heartbreak? Bray swallowed; he didn't know what went through Jack's thoughts at that moment to produce such a reaction but it alarmed him.

Yet, Jack touched him again, fondly and with the same bit of shyness from earlier when they kissed, and he barely held on to Bray's waist. His fingers through Bray's hair were familiar, yet they seemed curiously exploratory. But Jack had touched his hair at least a hundred times already. He knew everything about Bray, knew every part of him, knew where to touch to elicit a contented sigh, where to touch to send little electric jolts all down his spine. It felt like Jack was touching him for the first time but that was impossible. It was definitely not the first time for this.

Little things didn't add up for Bray but individually they didn't ring alarm bells. He wasn't thinking about Jack's hesitance or about how carefully Jack treated him. He wasn't focused on those minute differences in the way Jack kissed him or that his eyes held a slightly different light than the ones he saw daily. In the moment he was too relieved to be out of the apartment and he was still caught up in the rush of finally being alone.

"Hm? Did you?" Bray absently kissed the tip of his chin simply because it was there and deserved kissing. "What was I doing in your dreams?" Were they dreams about their past? Was that why Jack looked so sad just now?

[Ripper Nightshade]

"Yes."

He did dream of him. But he couldn't tell now if he should have said that or not. Brayden seemed only curious about it, not suspicious but again, Rip was so out of his depth here. He didn't know what Brayden knew about Jack, but he had to know more than Rip did. At least, the current Jack, the one whose memories and experiences diverged from all that Rip knew of him.

Closing his eyes again, Rip tried to recall the dreams he had been having of Brayden. The ones where he affectionately called him B and Bray and all kinds of other terms of endearment that weren't based off his name.

"Loving me," he said, eyes still closed. Not me, though, he had to remind himself. Loving Jack. Because the name he used, even in Rip's dreams, was Jack. He opened his eyes and sat up, tucking one foot under the other knee and regarding Brayden with a terrible yearning in his heart. But he smiled because the dreams were not bad ones.

"You and... me," he said, knowing it wasn't him in the dream, "as kids! Holding hands and jumping into a lake together! You were so cute. Oh! And dancing. Like... princes at a grand ball... One time, I dreamed that you went away... I woke up and you... weren't there."

[Brayden Smith]

He traced the shape of Jack's noble brow when Jack closed his eyes, as if to draw from all the dreams that he'd had of Bray and of their past lives together. "I've always loved you," whispered Bray with absolute certainty, and smiled even though Jack's eyes were closed and he couldn't see it. But his smile was sad, too, reflecting the somber reality of their lives and loves.

Then, when Jack sat up suddenly, Bray remained where he was on his side and looked up at him curiously. He pulled one of Jack's hands toward him, first to kiss the knuckles and fingertips tenderly and then to press against his cheek, which he rested against the palm of it. Jack's smile seemed to send mixed messages—sadness and yet joy, hopelessness yet yearning. Why? Why was that smile so new? Bray hadn't seen it before and he was sure he had seen every type of smile from Jack.

"I went away..." He turned into Jack's hand and kissed the palm of it softly. It was a gentle way of saying that he died. He went away. And he never came back because he was already drifting through time and space, waiting for the next life, waiting to be reunited with Jack to begin their tragic love story all over again. Bray closed his eyes as a tidal wave of emotion made it hard to breathe. He wanted to escape the complications and the implications of those visions but it seemed to follow him wherever he went. That wasn't surprising though, was it? His own black fate was not something he could forget on a whim.

"Jack." Bray opened his eyes after taking in a deep, long breath. "There's something I want to say but I don't... I don't know if you're ready to hear it yet. I don't know if you'll ever be ready to hear it." Yet it needed to be said. It had to be said while they had a moment alone, before everyone came knocking down the door. Bray sat up too, facing him, hands clasping both of Jack's hands.

"If I don't—don't make it this time. Please, find a way to move on without me. Find a way to be happy again."

[Ripper Nightshade]

"...no..." Rip whispered. No, he had not always loved him. Brayden never loved him. And the more he played this... game, the less good he felt about it. Not that he ever felt good about lying but this was too much. It was hurting Rip and Brayden was saying such nice things, such lovely things, and doing such lovely things, too, with his lips on his hands and his fingers. Not knowing the whole time that he was a fraud. And that hurt, too.

When Rip woke from that nightmare, the one where Brayden... died, he woke up and there was only... Keith. Of course, he didn't say that part. It didn't help, either, that his little soul was mourning and he needed love and reassurance and Keith shoved him off and told him to leave the room, he was annoying him.

But he had forgotten about that until now because he was good at setting things away that didn't pertain to Rip. It was a Jack thing, not a Rip thing, he told himself, and that meant the status quo was still the status quo.

He winced at the name Jack and quickly looked down. Brayden had something important to say--to Jack--and he was telling the wrong person. The guilt was real. Oh no. Brayden was sitting up, taking his hands. When Rip looked up through his hair, he could see how earnest Brayden looked. And how determined. And how... sad.

"No!" Rip tore his hands away from Brayden and turned away, kicking his legs off the bed and leaping out of it, taking a step back and another step back, as if Brayden's words themselves were poison. "Stop! Stop talking like that!"

[Brayden Smith]

(THIS THREAD IS GIVING ME THE SADS)

No? No... he didn't think Bray had always loved him?

That wasn't something Jack would have said to him. Jack had no doubts... right? But Bray swore he heard it—no. Jack didn't believe him when he said that he had always loved him and that sowed a little tiny seed of doubt in Bray, too. What... did that mean? That Jack no longer believed in his eternal love?

Yet again, a piece of the puzzle didn't fit. And while Bray put that aside like all the other pieces, the gaps they left behind were beginning to become a little more apparent.

He was desperate to say what he needed to say, though. He needed to tell Jack and... Jack didn't take that well. His reaction was violent, startling. Bray sat on the bed in shock, staring at him as he retreated—as though Bray were shooting bullets at him instead of words. It wasn't pleasant to be told to move on but...

"Jack?" Bray got off the bed too, following him, reaching out for him. "Jack I'm sorry. Please don't—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please." He didn't mean to ruin this beautiful evening alone but they also couldn't ignore the elephant in the room. Ever since those visions happened, they hadn't talked about it. Jack seemed to want to avoid it and Bray didn't want to upset him, so he held off and he held off until he couldn't ignore it any longer.