My name is Jake. I am 20 and, unfortunately, the 'sun and moon' of Matt's life. My past may be a bit muddied, but I'm working on that.
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@Matt

i—am—that—star:

Matt couldn’t hide the wide grin on his face, his hands drifting around to feel the curves and edges on Jake’s body, chuckling softly at his little remarks and nose scrunches here and there. He leaned forward then, pressing his lips to the younger male’s head, pulled him onto his lap. His arms locked around Jake’s waist and kept him firm on his lap as he himself slouched in his seat so that they could sit face to face and comfortably. 

"You know you don’t need to ask. You just gotta tell me what you want to know. I can give you an entire bibliography about us, you know. Give me a subject. Any subject."

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Jake couldn’t help but smile as Matt pulled him forward. Strangers or lovers, it never failed to bring butterflies to his stomach. He gripped hesitantly at the older man’s shirt, pulling himself closer to the warmth and safety he felt from him. 

"Tell me about how we met."

It was a story he’d heard a few times before, but sometimes it still shocked him. They were both so comfortable with each other, it was hard to think it wasn’t a ‘love at first sight’ moment between them. Considering Matt’s looks, he almost doubted that he hadn’t fallen for him within the first few minutes they saw each other. 

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@Matt

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Matt sighed and returned his attention to his steak, slicing another perfect piece and dipping it into the sauce. “Have you tried just sitting down with Joey, face to face one day, and having him tell you stories of you two? Have him show you the gifts you got him before for his birthday or just at random. I know you two would get each other weird things the first Tuesday of every month which honestly I still don’t quite understand the whole meaning behind it.”

He placed his fork down and turned full body towards Jake, reaching over to the edge of his seat and pulling him between his legs. Once secured, he let his hands hold his waist and he pressed their foreheads together. “We’ll figure it out okay? But you gotta relax and let yourself get carried away in what we say. Ask questions and don’t hesitate. If Joey likes one thing more than shopping and Chris, its talking about you guys and himself.” He paused and shook his head. “Herself, herself.”

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Jake rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh as he leaned further into Matt. The closeness was nice, it helped. Made him forget just how much he didn’t know, for at least a few seconds. 

"If I let him start talking, I’m not entirely sure he’ll stop. We may miss the wedding all together." 

His hands drifted forward, catching on the edge of Matt’ chair. He’d been getting better at returning affections, but was still hesitant. 

"What about..us? Can you tell me about us?"

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@Matt

i—am—that—star:

Matt watched Jake with amusement, resting his chin over his hands again as his eyes began to familiarize themselves with his husband’s features and habits. He chuckled at his outburst and shook his head softly. “Jake, relax. If you shove your food into your mouth and try to swallow and talk at the same time, you’re going to choke and die. Breathe baby, breathe.”

Matt allowed for his hands to drop onto the table, one to lift his fork and the other to lift his knife so he could cut into the steak which remained rather warm even through all the two had just done. As he torn through the meat, he hummed softly in thought, taking into consideration what Jake had asked, “ah-hah”ing when he managed to cut a well enough piece to dip into his wine sauce.

"Is that why you were making a mess up there?" He teased, snatching the meat off his fork and chewed on it as his eyes scanned over to Jake, brows lifted with a smirk on his face.

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Jake sighed and placed the fork back onto the table with a soft thud. 

"Yes. I know Joey said we were close friends, but I have nothing to go on. How am I supposed to get him something meaningful if I hardly remember anything about us being friends?"

He dragged his hand over his face, slumping into the wooden chair. The curves dug into his back painfully, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it was a reminder that we was still alive, and a reprimand for being so stupid over a couple of papers. 

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@Matt

i—am—that—star:

He gave Jake a nodding “thanks” and began to scan through the papers, his eyes absorbing every single detail as intently as he could. He scrunched his brows, flipping between sheets, reexamining them two or three times each. His mouth went dry but it never showed; there they were. In plain enough sight for anyone to see. His original mission. The mission he couldn’t have screwed up even more than his life. The one that brought him and Jake together, all in vain. Luckily for him, it was just the draft and it was in a quite ancient (well, to him, at least) code, too difficult for anyone to read. Even the best trained investigators.

After a long, uneasy silence, and with an uplifted spirit, Matt dropped the papers and pushed them aside, leaning his back against his chair. With a soft drop of his shoulder and some relief escaping his lips, he turned his attention to Jake, who was paling and quivering something terrible in his seat. He frowned a bit, reaching his hand to hold onto Jake’s firmly and reassuringly, replacing the frown with a soft smile.

"I have no clue what any of that was." He said with an embarrassed look on his face, his cheeks burning read with his thumb rubbing against the knuckles of Jake’s hand. "It’s like some weird computer code. Judging by the paper’s age, probably from when my mom worked as an ambassador for France. But I don’t think it’s anything to worry about."

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Jake frowned in confusion and blurted, “You can’t read any of it?”

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he leaned back in his chair, hastily grabbing his fork and shoveling chicken into his mouth, hoping to keep any other stupid comments from slipping out. 

Of course Matt couldn’t read it, he was an actor. He spent his days learning how to communicate through a person’s body, not how to order someone’s death through a computer. And what’s worse, he was snooping through someone else’s belongings. 

"You, um, yeah, the food is really good. We can forget about those, it’s fine. Do you want to shop later? For Joey?"

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@Matt

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"Anything for you" Matt remarked with a dashing, Prince Charming smile, popping open his wine and pouring it gracefully into their wine glasses before taking his seat beside Jake. Once seated comfortably, he corked the wine and set it to the side, his hands coming together to support his chin so he could gaze over to Jake, awaiting.

"May I see the papers?" He asked for a second time, sliding his face into his hands, his shoulders raising and falling with each slow, calm breath he took and his eyes sparkling with charisma and charm as he remained silent until Jake’s response.

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There wasn’t really any point in avoiding the confrontation. He paused only a moment before extending his arm and letting Matt take the papers carefully from his hands. He hadn’t realized they were shaking, and quickly pulled them back into his lap. 

There was no reason to be terrified. Honest to god, they were just sheets with a bunch of random numbers and letters. He could just be psyching himself out over nothing. Maybe it was too many spy movies, or watching Tron a few times more than necessary. And besides, Matt would never do anything to hurt him, he’d seen enough evidence to know that. 

So why did letting them go feeling like a death sentence? 

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@Matt

i—am—that—star:

The tall French dropped his shoulders, tucking an around his diaphragm while stretching the other forward, his palm facing upward. “Would you mind if I took a look? I can’t really see what they are when they’re huddled up against your chest.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes widen with question while his brows pinched a bit. When he saw Jake hesitate, he closed his hand and drew back into an upright position, his eyes switching back and forth between the pages and Jake until he placed a hand on his hip and allowed the other to rest against the back of his neck.

"You’re gonna have to trust me a little more than that you know." He grumbled with some frustration, both with the truth that he was becoming weary of the seconding guessing Jake had with every word he told him (although, he supposed he couldn’t blame him…) and the foiled attempt at being given the sheets.

Matt allowed himself to scan the room for a little while then just turned away from his partner, stepping towards the dining table. He let his hands wander one of the wooden chairs, feeling the curves and swirls it held before gripping it gently and pulling it out for him.

"C’mon, take a seat. We don’t want dinner to go to waste and I want to see what those papers are. You hording them over your body won’t help either of us and I don’t like wasting food." He gave him a pleading eye, his fingers tapping gently against the chair.

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Jake frowned but followed, sitting in the chair Matt presented him while keeping the papers close to him. He watched him set the table, laying out the silverware and placing the food in the center. Matt moved almost mechanically, as if his mind were in a million other places other than this moment. 

He glanced down at the papers and sighed. Honestly, they couldn’t be as bad as he thought they were. Hell, they looked like they had been in the attic longer than he had been in the house. The chances that they had anything do to with him were slim to none. They must be old high school papers, things from a computer class. Never mind that they were  all practically orders to kill people. At least, he assumed that’s what they meant. The codes to terminate followed by usernames didn’t sound comforting in any way. 

He didn’t even realize how lost in his own mind he had been until there was a steaming plate of food before him. He smiled gratefully up at Matt and loosened his grip, relaxing only slightly in the chair. 

"Thank you."

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@Matt

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Matt turned his head slowly, familiar with the tone of Jake’s voice enough that it brought his grinning lips to a tight frown. He looked at the pile the younger male held up, his face showing no change or phase when it reached his line of view. He stood up straight, his eyes never leaving the files as he took a long stride forward (not difficult to do considering his incredible height) and finally met eyes with Jake, his eyebrow arching upward.

"What’s that?" He questioned, his lips keeping apart and hands clasped together against his abdomen as he leaned forward a little to reach Jake’s height (slightly). All through his facade, Matt cursed inwardly, knowing all too well what Jake held in his hands and contemplating how to take the pages away from him as swiftly as he could before any more information could be recovered all while keeping stealthy.

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"That’s actually what I wanted to ask you."

Jake brought the papers to his chest, glancing down to avoid Matt’s eyes. He trusted Matt. He had to. Matt was one of the few things keeping him linked to his past. But something was wrong with these papers. Even though he didn’t know exactly what, he knew they were dangerous. And for some reason, he was afraid that they had to do with himself. 

What was worse was the way Matt seemed to tense us as soon as he laid on on the sheets. He could keep the neutral smile, but he couldn’t lie. But he didn’t want to lose this Matt, the one that brought him home and made him feel alive again. 

"I found them up in the attic. I recognized them, but I don’t remember them." 

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@Matt

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Jake barely heard Matt’s words over his own thoughts. Terminate. Something ate at the back of his mind, something screaming danger and abort. Shuffling all the papers together, he grabbed the flashlight and climbed down the ladder, letting the door slam shut. 

Whatever Matt was making in the kitchen smelled wonderful, but did nothing to stop the queasiness he felt as he walked down the hall. He stopped in the doorway, watching Matt flit about the room. It was endearing in a way. Had he known Matt longer, it may have been adorable how he was fussing over the food the way he was. Typical french.

"Hey..can we talk?" 

He held up the handful of papers and watched the taller boy turn to him. 

@Matt

Jake wasn’t really sure what he was looking for. But Joey’s wedding was coming within the next couple months and really? He had no idea what to give them. It would help if he could remember more about the couple, but even his wall of post-its couldn’t give him enough information. 

He knew Matt was keeping some of their more personal belongings upstairs. He had overheard him telling others that he didn’t want the house to be ‘too overwhelming’ for him. Which, frankly, he thought was stupid. How the hell was he supposed to remember anything if the entire house was swept clean? 

It didn’t take him long to pull down the attic door and scramble through the dark gap. And it wasn’t impressive. Whoever had shoved everything up here did so recklessly, just pushing the boxes into whatever space they’d fit. It was completely uncharacteristic of what Jake had learned about Matt, enough to have him imagine that only Dyrick or Chris could have moved all the boxes. He spent a good 3 hours rifling through them. Most were just books and scripts. Some held picture albums that he wished he could have seen months earlier. 

In every picture he saw, he was smiling. With Matt, with Joey, with Andy. He was always smiling. It was weird to see this version of himself, the one that knew all of these people, were friends with them. Unnerving, even, to see pictures of himself at his and Matt’s wedding. He shoved the box away and pulled forward another. 

This box was older than the rest, more torn apart and withered from dust and dark. After tugging it open, rather than the fond memories of his past, he found numbers. Sheets and sheets of data and code that shouldn’t have made any sense to him but they did. He knew he could use computers, but he didn’t realize that he knew what went on inside them too. But why would Matt have hidden a box of codes? These weren’t even programs, they were terminations. What was he thinking?

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