Chapter 1: Be nice to me
Summary:
Jeff and Jack have their first interaction as well as their first (from many to come) stunt witch modeling
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack was looking around his brand-new living room—well, maybe not so brand-new. The walls were painted an ugly, yellowish color, and all of the furniture seemed to be as old as his parents. The flat was tacky, but at least the rent was cheap, which was a deal breaker for the poor student he was.
He was supposed to share it with a boy his age. He didn’t know much about the man. His name was Jeffrey. Or Jeremy? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about a lot of stuff nowadays. As he kept trying to decide which name belonged to that man, the door barged open.
“Hey.” said the man entering their flat.
“Hey.” Jack immediately replied.
He took a moment to eye down his new flatmate. His dark hair draped over his shoulders, moving downwards, he was wearing a t-shirt with a skull on it, it looked hand-painted. He had on a pair of black, worn-out jeans and red Converse shoes. All of his clothes seemed pretty lived in, to say the least, but Jack thought it made the other cool.
“Jack, right?” asked the man, still standing in the doorway. Jack realized the other had probably caught him staring by now, his striking blue eyes almost drilled into his soul. Shit. He was going to hate those.
“M-yeah” Jack responded, trying to seem nonchalant but definitely failing. “And.. you’re Jeremy if I’m not wrong?”
“You certainly are. Name’s Jeff.” He said with a smirk. Jack only then noticed a diagonal scar stretching all the way from the corners of his lips towards his cheekbones. He was genuinely curious about what happened, but they for sure weren’t at the stage to talk about that type of stuff yet, so he just let his gaze linger on the other’s unique feature for a second. Maybe he was being weird, but in his opinion, it suited Jeff well. Jeff. Jeff. Jeff. He had to
remember the name. It was so awkward, the only thing he knew about him was his name, but he managed to twist it anyway. Was he overthinking it? He had to seem cool and make a good first impression on his now-roommate. He shifted in his seat. Jeff seemed collected and chill, while Jack was internally panicking. He messed up and Jeff was going to think he’s a weirdo. He was such a fool.
“Ekhm.” The boy grunted out. Holy fuck Jack realized he got caught up in his thoughts again and forgot to reply. He felt so stupid.
“Sorry, I completely forgot. I don’t even know where I got Jeremy from.” he apologized in the blink of an eye.
“No prob. I think I’ll go unpack my stuff now. It’s getting late”
“M’kay” Jack nodded quietly. Jeffrey was going to hate him now. Why did meeting new people have to be such a hustle? He only hoped that the man—now in his own bedroom—wasn’t going to be turned off by Jack’s awkward demeanor.
Jeff finished emptying his suitcase. Now he was lying on his bed. He knew the flat wasn’t the most beautiful, but it felt home-y, in one way or another. He liked the ugly plywood furniture and the obscure Persian rug on the floor. His room was small and cozy with just enough space to put his easel in. He was going to study art and he was so happy about it. It was one of his two hobbies that made him feel somehow relaxed. Getting a degree in art was his biggest dream. He loved beautiful things, that’s why he mutilated his own face and why Jack sparked so much curiosity in him. The first thing he noticed in the other was his eyes. Mainly one eye, the one that was completely black. Damn, it was his favorite feature of Jack so far. He liked people that were a little different and Jack was one of that kind. He knew it, he just had to get to know him, pick him apart one by one. He will do it, even if his new acquaintance seems really awkward at first.
Another thing he noticed about him was that Jack was observant and probably very intelligent, he seemed to analyze every detail of his apparition and judge him basing off of it, so Jeff had to be careful with hiding his little secret. At least for now. He planned on crushing this facade in the future. He didn’t talk much to his flat mate yet but knew that the other would understand it.
When Jeff woke up the next morning he realized the flat was empty. That certainly was a pity, he planned on getting to know Jack, who was probably in class now. Jeff didn’t know what class, since there was no chance to ask. He went on with his morning and left for his first class, which was painting.
The class went amazing, it was exactly how Jeff had imagined an art school to be like. Their first assignment was to draw a few objects from around the atelier. He did just fine, the teacher even praised him a little. As the first hour came to an end, the professor asked the class if someone was able to find a person to pose for the next subject. Jeff was feeling adventurous so he raised his hand and the professor nodded to him.
The next class would start in an hour, it was painting once again. Jeff didn’t mind it, it was fun so far and he got along with everyone there. Except for that Nina girl, she kept staring at him. He thought she was going to be interesting to talk to because she had the same smile on her face as he did, but when he initiated a conversation with her, she just nodded along passionately to everything Jeff was saying. She was dumb and annoying and had no personality. Even Jack was more fun to be around, at least he didn’t stare so much. Well… he kinda did. but in a good way… Whatever it meant.
Their break finished and Jeff went back to the classroom.
“Mr. Woods, you obligated yourself to arrange a model for us, no?” the professor asked him. Oh crap. He forgot. He had to make something up on the spot. He didn’t know any people in his college except the ones in his classroom. AND JACK. Suddenly he remembered. Luckily he got the man’s number from their landlord. He had a plan and it had to work out.
“Yeah, professor…” Jeff trailed off, he didn’t know the teacher’s name. He looked at his nametag, Victor Surge, which sounded familiar. “Surge. He’s on the way.”
“He better make it quick. We don’t have time for that now.” So Surge was angry and honestly, it was scary, it almost looked like there were black… things? …Tentacles? Looming behind his back.
Jeff excused himself to go to the bathroom, locked himself in a stall, and called Jack with a speed of sound. He better pick up.
Jack was on his way home, his first class this year was a field one, which wasn’t ideal since he didn’t get much sleep last night due to his condition. When he woke up, after a night full of nightmares, half of his face was covered in black liquid. He got used to it by now, but it still wasn’t pleasant. Now, he thought, he was finally going to rest. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was weird. No one ever tried to call him. He looked down at the screen. It was… Jeff? He found it at least concerning because they didn’t even talk much at home, but deep down he was happy someone had called him.
“JACK QUICK I NEED YOUR HELP!” Jack heard coming from the speaker. It didn’t help ease him into being comfortable with talking on the phone.
“Hello? What happened? Are you in danger Jeff?” he asked. Due to his past trauma and the fact that he was studying criminology, he was always worried about something happening to his loved ones. And Jeff. He didn’t love him but was weirdly growing fond of him.
“KURWAAA!!! YES! YES, I AM, PLEASE SAY YOU’RE FREE” Jack was screamed at from his phone.
“I’m on my way back from autopsy class.” He responded calmly. It didn’t seem like anything that serious now.
“I BEG YOU! CAN YOU COME OVER TO MY CLASS?!” That situation was so strange.
“Why would you need that, Jeff?” He was so weirded out.
“I SAID I WOULD FIND SOMEONE TO POSE FOR OUR PAINTING CLASS BUT I FORGOT! JACK PLEASE JUST COME. BLOCK 3C. I WILL DO ANYTHING.” Jack chuckled inaudibly. Turns out Jeff also had memory issues, so maybe he understood the name thing from earlier?
“On my way.” He replied not really reflecting any deeper. He didn’t even know Jeff but he was always happy to help other people. He was kind of a pushover and maybe that’s what made him lose his eye. It didn’t matter now. He was practically running to the other man’s class.
He walked up what seemed like millions of stairs to Jeff’s class but decided to go to the washroom first. He cleaned up his face from sweat and drops of black liquid. AGAIN. He hated it so much. Suddenly one of the stalls opened and he was surprised to see Jeff coming out of it.
“What happened to you?” Jeff pointed to the dried-up clots he was washing away.
“Nothing, it's like that after I get a lot of physical activity. I ran here.”
“Oh. I appreciate that you came. I thought Surge was going to eat me alive”
Jack nodded. Deep down he was happy that someone acknowledged his help. The two of them entered the atelier and Jack had to admit that Prof. Surge was in fact terrifying. He was tall and surprisingly slender for a man his age. His black suit only added to the aura of seriousness around him. He reminded Jack of the people that kidnapped him ages ago.
Jack started to sweat as he realized that being a model involved being naked from what he knew. He didn’t have a complicated relationship with his body, but still, flashing his dick to a new flatmate didn’t seem ideal.
“Jeff?” He decided to ask.
“‘Sup?”
“Does posing for a class require being naked?” Jack asked in terror.
“What the hell?” Jeff laughed, and because of the scars, his smile seemed even more expressive than it already was. Jack was worried that he was making fun of him. “Of course not. We don’t do nudes yet and if we would, I’d definitely warn you.”
“Oh, okay…” Jack sighed, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“Disappointed? You can help me practice nudes at home, hotshot.” Jeff winked at him.
“...” Jack was left speechless as Jeff giggled at his confusion.
Now what in the world did that mean?! They barely knew each other. Jack wasn’t gay. He never liked a man, but he never liked any girl either. He didn’t really feel attracted to anyone. Jeff wasn’t any different, and he was a boy. Jack wasn't religious, but still, he felt a certain sense of guilt while thinking about his possible feelings for a member of the same gender.
He got on the chair prepared for him to sit on and took off his clothes carefully. He noticed Jeff checking him out—no—more like analyzing his every move. It was weird, but Jeffrey Woods turned out to be stranger and stranger every second.
As he was posing he felt observed by everyone. Artists gathered in a circle around him and looked at his body, drawing his silhouette on paper. It reminded him of the ritual. He didn’t like it at all and desperately wanted to leave. That whole situation was making him nervous. He was almost naked, vulnerable with nothing to cover himself up with for the next hour. And Surge was glaring at him even more intensely than the other students. Like he knew something about him that he wasn’t supposed to. Jack hated being at the center of attention. It was another thing that reminded him of the accident. Everyone circled him, their predatory eyes on his bare body. Jack’s head started to swirl and he was back in his past again. He almost felt the sensation of his eye being burned out with hot black liquid, the same one that would haunt him forever by leaking out of his now empty eye socket. SHIT. It was there again. For the third time this day. Everyone saw him.
Jeff came closer to him and handed out a tissue. He might be weird but, at least seemed to care a little bit for his roommate’s wellbeing, which was quite surprising, considering the short amount of time the two men knew each other for. Jack wiped his cheek.
“Clean?” He asked Jeff. The ink was difficult to clean so he wanted to make sure.
“No.” Jeff took the paper mindlessly and wiped the liquid off his cheek like it was nothing. It probably was nothing to him, but in the shaken state Jack was in, it meant a lot. Touch helped him ground, he really was thankful for his creepy roommate at that moment.
The class finally ended and both men were now walking down the stairs of the ridiculously tall building that the art sector was in. Jeff was concerned with Jack’s state, even if he barely knew the other man. He owed him for the stunt with modeling.
“Jack?”
Jack looked at him, his eyes—one eye—seemingly tired. Jeff felt bad for him.
“I can call for the elevator if you want?” He offered.
“No need.” Jack shook his head. “I get those episodes often. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Two of them continued their stroll home mostly quiet, Jeff still felt unsatisfied with how it all turned out. He had to make it up.
“You know, I can cook for the whole week to make it up to you.” He made it sound like a peace offering.
“You don’t need to” Damn, why wouldn't this man accept any help?
“I want to, Jack.” He noticed a small smile creeping up his cheeks.
“Okay, but I’m doing the dishes.” Jack replied, raising the corners of his mouth slightly, which Jeff found strangely endearing. He nodded contently and the two roommates, now a little more familiar with each other, walked to their shared flat in a more-or-less comfortable silence.
Notes:
First chapter guys!!!! I'll try to upload second one next Tuesday! Hoping no train will hit me Xx
Chapter 2: Strawberry fields forever
Summary:
Jack goes to class while Jeff becomes a poorly executed stay-at-home wife.
Word count is around 2700 :]
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack was now listening to Professor Wright ramble about a case from a few years back. A businessman was murdered in his bed. Presumably at night, he thought, because why else would he be cozy in his bedroom when the attack started? He was stabbed continuously everywhere in his torso, he hadn't seen anything of that sort before. That was just shocking to hear about. Extremely different from the two midriff cuts he was accustomed to. Jack felt dizzy while just thinking about it.
He wondered how it would feel to be in that situation. Dreaming soundly and suddenly waking up to the feeling of being stabbed in the gut, or maybe being woken up by the killer himself (or herself, he wasn't sexist), seeing their eyes overdriven with anger, hate, possibly passion. Then they would probably say something, a lot of mass murderers had a corny catchphrase. Jack found it embarrassing, definitely not his type of thing. After that being pierced with a knife tens of times, some in his stomach, some right between the ribs, followed by a glorious final one precisely aimed into his heart. Then the time would stop for eternity, his last moments being of getting murdered, roughly, by a person who probably had no business with ending your life, and his seven minutes being of his face cleaned with a tissue and playful innuendos thrown at him.
He got lost in his thoughts again. His own mind happened to be his biggest curse, it was so pathetic.
"Now I'm going to show you photos policemen took right after arriving at the scene," said Mr. Wright. "Though I must warn you it is not a view for the faint of hearts. If someone finds oneself too disturbed with the picture shown, one is better off on a different major."
Jack was aware the sight wouldn't be exactly pleasant but criminology was good money. The professor turned the projector on effortlessly— that was unexpected.
Oh.
Jack didn't expect it. An image of a man around his 40s, laying in bed, the first thing he saw was his torso, of course, or what remained of it. He could most accurately compare it to an unwashed strainer—an apogee of holes and a bunch of unidentifiable stuff coming out of them. Then he noticed the sheets weren't naturally red like he initially thought. After a moment it turned out that their dark crimson color was rather caused by the blood coming out of the body. The bed resembled a red sea with rocky islands made from clots of what seemed to be the man's dried-up organelles. The killer didn't just stab him, he practically turned his stomach inside out with his bare hands. Right after his eyes drifted to the man's face, painted with fear, the expression exaggerated by a familiar cut-out smile. It reminded him of Jeff. He didn't think the boy had anything to do with the case, just pitied him for getting permanently mutilated by another person. Poor Jeff. It made Jack a little sad, but then he internally beat himself up for not focusing on class once again.
"Does anyone here have any reflections they would like to share regarding the case?" asked Wright.
Jack raised his hand and the man let him speak. He planned to leave a good impression this year.
"The first thing that comes to mind, because of the victim being a mildly important figure, is that the murder was simply for financial gain." Jack let out a breath, speaking was stressful "But my thesis is different, I'd say the act was one of pure emotion, definitely unmotivated by anything except our subject's anger," inhale, exhale, "the intensity of the wounds on the victim's stomach indicates impulsivity and given that, I think the smile was cut while the victim was already dead. Just like the killer's signature." Offfffff. Finally an end, he was so relieved but at the same time so worried that he sounded stupid while trying to use all that smart vocabulary.
"Color me impressed, Mr.?" Wright asked for his name
"Nyars."
"Great job, your analytic thinking is above the average level I must admit."
The professor continued his lesson. Jack was now a little more positive about his tendency to overthink, because, as he discovered, it could actually turn into something useful.
He was now walking back to their flat with a little ego boost. He felt that for once he did something good and that if he tried to keep it up, he could achieve something great. Change the world for the better. BULLSHIT. He realized that the unnatural craving he was experiencing was a stain on his ambition he couldn't simply erase. Maybe if he had an arduous might to become a hero? Most likely not, he thought, those kinds of tendencies weren't something anyone could overlook, unless they were a psycho of course. A dog ran right before his eyes and brought the daydreamer back to reality. The animal was the ugliest mutt he'd ever seen. Bony, with yellow teeth and unkempt fur. The animal quickly outran him and the only thing left behind was the atrocious smell—or stench, thoughtfully, it was pretty bad in Jack's books.
Jeff was cooking dinner for himself and his flatmate, a faint sound of rock music coming from the radio he put on the corner. He tried to make his special dish. It would be so impressive. He imagined Jack coming home to eat dinner consisting of pasta mixed with strawberries. Actually—no. Now that he thought about it it was the most idiotic idea he ever had. He'd try cooking something else if it wasn't for the fact that strawberry sauce was almost ready and he couldn't just throw it out. His grandmother would be rolling in her grave if he did. So he threw the pasta into the boiling water and began to wait.
Unexpectedly—Jack entered the flat, almost without a sound. Damn, that man had sneak. Jeff wouldn't notice him unless it was for the sound of the man unzipping his beat-up combat boots. Jeff was disappointed, as he planned on finishing his kitchen chores before his roommate's arrival. Whatever, Jack probably wouldn't mind waiting. If he didn't mind an extra hour he spent standing in his class, waiting an extra 10 minutes for Jeff to cook pasta.
"Hi." he nodded with a faint smile, wanting to seem friendly.
"Hi Jeff," not even a tiny nod? Ouch, that man was as dry as a desert.
Jeff watched Jack intently. He looked around, eyeing Jeff in the kitchen, and went to sit down on the couch. Unpredictable, Jeff could bet that he'd go right to his room with how introverted he seemed. Then the man took out a thick notebook and began reading something. Wondering what it was, Jeff decided to take a peak. He quickly came over and propped his elbows on the headrest.
"Watcha' reading?" Jeff asked curiously.
"Notes."
"Oooooh. Notes, you say? My new roommate is so mysterious."
"They're from a class I had today. I'm revising."
Jeff shot a glance in the direction of his papers. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Why were Jack's notes about a businessman stabbed 35 times and with a Chelsea smile he cut out. It was messed up. Why, for the love of God, was Jack studying this exact case? There certainly are plenty of other cases to be studied, but no. It had to be that one. What if Jack had connected the ties to his smile and Jeff could be in serious trouble now?
"Interesting," Jeff answered plainly, seemingly losing all of his previous enthusiasm and quickly went back to minding his business in the kitchen.
Jack, of course, noted the sudden turn Jeff's mood had turned the second he saw the notes. He didn't think much of it though. Maybe the descriptions were too graphic for him, or it was the smile cut that made him uncomfortable? He could only wonder, but that he left for later. Now he was intrigued by uncommon—to say the least—aromas coming from the kitchen behind his back. He turned his head around to see but was met with a sight of Jeff's back.
"Dinner's ready" Jeff chanted from the kitchen. Jack got up and went straight to the table. His back was a little sore and probably in need of a stretch but he thought it would be awkward to do in front of his new roommate so he just let Jeff serve the dinner.
What he saw was beyond what his imagination could comprehend. He, in his whole life, hasn't seen something like that. Pasta with strawberries. An abomination.
"Looks delicious, Jeff." He said, trying not to seem mean.
"Yeah? I tried my best. Delighted you think so, Nyars." Jeff said really proud of himself.
A bunch of pasta was then placed on his plate along with a blob of strawberry-looking mush to top it all up.
Being a social creature requires sacrifices and he was, more or less, willing to take those for the sake of a good relationship with his subtenant, he thought and took a forkful of pasta into his mouth. It was less than underwhelming. The pasta was overcooked and slimy while the strawberry substance was uhhh, how would he phrase it? Probably crispy. In a bad way.
"What do you think?" Jeff asked.
"It's well... The taste is certainly intriguing," Jack replied. Jeff seemed pretty content with the answer as he responded with a quick "Thanks. Jack, happy you like it" accompanied by a crooked smile.
Yeah. He loved it, Jack then remembered that the man had promised to cook dinners for a whole week. He didn't want to be mean, he appreciated the gesture and noticed that Jeff tried hard to cook something good for both of them, but his food caused him sensory issues. If he had to describe it in two words, he'd say it was sticky and spongy. He felt bad for being so harsh about it, even if it was only in his own head. Jeff took his time to make something for Jack and it was a surprisingly pleasant concept but only if it stayed as one. The execution was like a low-budget movie adaptation—very poorly made. He ate the whole meal out of politeness mixed with gratitude, but the sole thought of enduring a full week of Jeff's questionable culinary adventures didn't seem thrilling at all.
He noticed that Jeff had finished his pasta already and his expression seemed delighted from the extraordinary mix of flavors and tastes the man just experienced. Who was he to judge? He consumed a bunch of questionable things in his life as well. He took the last two bites and swallowed them without biting. What a mouth-watering and appetizing pabulum.
Thinking that, Jack got up and took both of their plates.
"What are u doing?" Asked Jeff.
"The dishes," Obviously.
"Yeah, but I can wash my part myself."
"I promised I'd do them."
Jeff was probably okay with it as he barely nodded and watched Jack from his chair.
Jack did the dishes, it was an appreciated gesture. Jeff was glad that his special recipe tased Jack, even if the man didn't seem 100% sure about it. He was left full after devouring a whole plate of his cuisine and waited for his roommate to come back so he could finally have a proper conversation with him. He needed to fish for more information on the case Jack was studying.
Finally, Jack turns off the tap and as he's about to go to his room but somehow changes his mind halfway through the action and sits on the couch next to Jeff.
Maybe he wasn't as antisocial and grumpy as he seemed. He could be a little awkward, but Jeff thought that likely he didn't have many friends and wasn't sure how to navigate interpersonal connections.
"Jack?"
"Yeah?" Jack answered hesitantly.
"What were your notes about? They seemed interesting," not very creative but it could start a conversation.
"Oh, they were about this case we researched in school today. The victim was a man with a prospering business who had been murdered as he was sleeping. The killer was excruciatingly violent and the actions seemed impulsive so I think it wasn't something he planned for in advance. That's crazy, to be honest," Jeff didn't expect such a long sentence to come out of Jack's mouth but it was a nice surprise.
"You think so? Maybe money was the motif here? You said it was a wealthy person."
"No, I don't think so. The surroundings seem untouched. Look at the bedside table. His watch is still there, it's Cartier. If our killer wanted to earn quick money he'd certainly have to take it."
"You might be onto something, Sherlock," Jeff said. He was amazed by Jack's deduction. The man had a mind as sharp as a scalpel and he had to give it to him.
"Thanks, Watson," his roommate giggled.
"By the way what's your major? I didn't have time to ask you yet."
"It's criminology," Jack replied and Jeff was amused at the revelation. Fate kept throwing rocks at him and they were practically boulders. How could he pursue his little hobby when the man he lived with was after him?
"That's a smart one right there."
"Mhm, kind of. What's yours?" Jack asked, still a little strained.
"Glad you asked, Mr. Humble," Jeff latched onto an opportunity to poke some harmless fun, "Mine's art. Not as nerdy as yours but I think it's pretty cool"
"I thought that yesterday it was just some sort of an after-class club," Jeff noticed the ashamed tone, "But you do look like an artist when I look at it."
"Ow. So you think I look poor, eccentric, and homosexual now? You wound me, Sherlock," Jeff said with a grin on his face, noticing Jack chuckle at it too.
"N-no!" Jack looked to the side, "Well, you somewhat do, I don't want to be mean. All of those are okay, certainly." He responded a little embarrassed of himself
"I know they are," Jeff cackled at Jack's troubled expression.
"What's your class like? It seemed nice when I was here," now he was just trying to change the topic.
"Uh.., it's nice, I guess," Jeff wasn't so sure about it.
"What do you mean?" Jack asked with concern.
"There's that girl, she's annoying the shit out of me. Just agrees with me on everything like a brainless stalker," The man started his rant, "And then there's the fucking professor Surge. He's like the scariest weirdest person I've ever met," Maybe except for Jack, but he couldn't say that out loud.
"I get it he creeped me out"
"You haven't seen him angry yet. I'm not even scared of fire after that."
"The man's scary enough when he's neutral, so thank you very much but I don't even want to," Jack replied truthfully.
"He has that shit that when he gets angry I'm so affected I start to hallucinate as much as my grandpa did on poppy flowers in the 80s. I wish I were making that up. What the fuck. Picture that man, he's in a bad mood and in the blink of an eye some like black aura appears behind him," Jeff described, his hands making all kinds of motions in the air trying to show Jack the black aura he was talking about while the other respectfully nodded along and "mhm" -ed his way through the conversation.
Jeff chit-chatted with his roommate for a while more. Then he started yawning uncontrollably, Jack suggested that the best for him would probably be to go to sleep. It was, in one way or another, cute how Jack had always seemed to care about the well-being of those around him, even if it was in his own, weird and awkward way.
He decided to listen for once and got ready to sleep. After that, he leaned out of his room to give Jack a final smile accompanied by "Goodnight, Sherlock".
Notes:
Hi! This chapter is on the shorter side but I promise the following ones will get longer as I have more plot planned. 'Till the next one!
Chapter 3: Hoya paranoia
Summary:
Crazy? I was crazy once
Chapter Text
The painting class went as usual. They had to paint a still life consisting of empty alcohol bottles, mold-infested fruits, and other miscellaneous trinkets. Jeff found himself framing his composition to contain a canine skull, dried-up figs, a few half-empty bottles of vodka, and a huge disintegrated taxidermied bird.
He thought his concept was okay, but somehow couldn't bring himself to stay consistently focused on it. He did a quick sketch followed by an underpainting and when he was just about to start laying all the shadows out—his mind began to wander. Jeff started to think about the passed-away creatures in his composition. They must have been such an easy target. So powerless, they somehow ended up as a pair of objects on display, like trophies without a chance to decompose.
Surge was staring at him from his desk and Jeff, usually conscious of the teacher's antics, didn't seem to notice it this time. He was thinking faster than his eyesight worked apparently. His thoughts drifted away from the animalistic prey—two sets of empty eye sockets following his every move—to the more human one. A quick flash of fear and an empty scream of agony. Cheeks aggressively tore open with a happy grin. Sliced midriff and organs covering the crimson-stained bed.
OH SHIT.
Jeff panicked for a moment. Jack saw the picture. He didn't say anything insinuating that he suspected Jeff to be the cause of this macarid display, he was all good, or was he? Maybe his roommate clocked him immediately and chose not to say anything. He got excited. The prospect got him going. He couldn't be sure if his little secret was known, maybe yet-to-be-known, or simply not noticed so far. What would Jack do if he found out? Would it be over for them or could he keep the thing between them?
He preferred to think it would impress the other man. That he'd be allured by him, that Jeff could somehow make him his partner in crime. The thing truly became an emotional roller-coaster for him. It wasn't in the norm to get so aroused by the concept of your darkest, most twisted secret to be revealed. Maybe, he thought, Jack would understand. He had that flicker of sickness in his eye. It wasn't possible for Jeff to easily stop thinking about it. Jack was drawing him in and the eyeless man became the sea he'd drown in willing to find out everything buried below the clot-covered surface.
He forgot he was there to paint in the first place, but after what seemed to be fifteen minutes a grunt from above his head brought the man to reality.
Jeff turned around, just to see a tall suited figure looking down at him. He could swear he saw Surge right by his desk a second ago and it terrified him. How the man could almost teleport right in front of his eyes.
"Ekhm, ekhm..."
"Yes, professor?"
"You're not paying attention, Woods. The other students already have their works on an advanced level, while yours is still barely covered with flat color," said the teacher with a blatantly disapproving tone.
"I'm sorry," shit he managed to make him mad twice in one week. "I'll make it up."
"Of course you will," Jeff let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "By bringing twenty separate figure sketches. Due to next lesson."
JAPIERDOLE. DOKURWYNĘDZY. How will he even manage to make twenty when the next class is two days from now?
"Yes, of course, professor," he blurted out in surrender. He just wanted Surge to get the fuck away from him.
"Mind you, the next time I catch you not paying attention, you will get double the amount."
Surge turned in the other direction and almost vanished out of his vision. He was now sitting at his desk and writing something with an expensive-looking quill while Jeff was starting to despise the man more than he did before. Yes, he did zone out, BUT TWENTY FUCKING SKETCHES?! That piece of shit was insane.
He got back to work as he didn't have much choice anyway. He also found out that he didn't like painting as much as he thought he did. Getting into detail was overwhelming for him. The man despised precision, he liked to go full impact. Barge in, make a big mess, and leave.
Miraculously enduring the following hour of trying to catch up with the rest of the painters there—the class finally came to an end and Jeff almost ran out the door. He wanted to go back to their flat but reminded himself that today was his turn to go grocery shopping.
He went to the Frog-shop on the nearby street and as he was looking around for some eggs much needed to prepare his next meal, he felt a pat on his shoulder.
Again?
He turned to look at the person disrupting him, wishing it wouldn't be the creepy teacher again.
"Hiya, Jeff!"
Oh, so it was Nina? The man wasn't sure who he despised more. She was so annoying.
"Hey," a plain answer suitable for the plain emotion of disinterest he was feeling towards the girl.
"Nice work, Jeff. I'm extremely impressed!" She said with an obvious excitement on her face.
"Thanks, Nina," could she, please, just go away from him?
"Yeah, no problem. That smile was one of your best, seriously. Sent shivers down my spine."
What on earth did that mean? Jack turned away with a carton of eggs in one hand while grabbing a pack of beer in the other as he rushed towards the register trying to get her to leave him alone.
As he left the store, a piece of paper fell out of his sketchbook. He didn't want to litter the streets, so he bent down to pick it up.
It was strange. The paper was covered in weird drawings and words that didn't make sense to him. The line work seemed pretty aggressive too. It just looked concerning to him. Jeff decided to man up and just go home, but a shadowy figure began to appear in his peripheral vision. "I must be just tired," he thought as the figure followed him around everywhere he looked.
The walk home was one of the quickest ones he'd taken.
Jack was now paying his full attention to what was going on in class. Another lesson of Wright's monologuing about a messed-up serial. Why did they even do it? It's not like they were forced to—the scenes they left behind were all too brutal. The wholehearted joy of killing was so obviously radiating from the pictures he was exposed to. One that particularly resonated with him was depicting a man, tied up to his bed in a pose reminding him of a cross. Around his head, Jack noticed, were all his teeth, taken out and placed in the shape of a halo. The murder seemed almost performative. Like the killer had some sort of an elaborate concept in his head and just needed a subject to help him realize it. Jack pondered on it for a while but soon enough class came to an end and he was on his way back to their flat as well.
He knocked on the door, just to give Jeff a moment to mentally prepare for him to enter, and carefully stepped into the living room.
Jack sat down on the couch, he was getting used to Jeff's presence, slowly, but surely. His roommate sat next to him and leaned on his shoulder, which made Jack flinch as he wasn't accustomed to affection.
"Hi, Jack..."
He didn't answer. Jeff seemed different from his usual self and it was worrying him. He sucked at comforting others, therefore the whole thing just made him confused. He wanted to ask Jeff about what's happening but the man couldn't find the right words. He thought anything he'd say would make him appear too attached so he decided to stay silent unless Jeff decided to open up.
Jeff was quiet for a minute but after that, something seemed to shift in the man as the sentences began flowing out of his mouth.
"Jack I'm so scared."
...
"It feels like everyone can read my mind"
He wasn't a preferable shoulder to lean on.
"And I'm seeing that... thing? In the corners of my vision everywhere I go"
Why couldn't he just come up with something to say?
"And it's terrifying," Jeff started to tremble. "When I'm in class it seems like Surge is always observing me but when I leave, this thing just appears out of nowhere."
...
"Say something, Jack, tell me I'm not going crazy," Jeff pleaded.
"I'm really sorry for you," Jack tried to think of something more creative but his mind was blank.
"Mhm..." Jeff mumbled while moving a little bit closer to Jack, who figured out that the other probably needed physical comfort.
He awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder and when he felt it relax under his palm, he started to awkwardly rub it in circles. Whatever happened to Jeff, was sure to take a toll on the poor man. He wanted to say something more, make him feel a little better. Jack remembered he had hidden some chocolate in his room.
"I have some chocolate. I can give it to you. Maybe it will help you feel better," he offered.
"Nah, just stay," Jeff muttered quietly.
It made Jack feel a tinge of protectiveness. He let his roommate lean on him, but the silence quickly got overbearing and he started to feel dizzy. He couldn't show it for now, as Jeff was having his moment of sadness. It was his responsibility to stay strong and offer him as much reassurance as he possibly could.
It was so uncommon, for Jeff who was so confident and unapologetic on a daily basis, to look so unbearably worn out after only three hours of class. The story about hallucinations didn't seem entirely convincing but there was no better explanation for the man's behavior. It really raised Jack's concerns.
His roommate seemed to calm down by now and the silence got a little awkward on Jack's end, so he took his phone out of his back pocket and began to scroll through some articles.
Jeff was pretty shocked at that. He didn't want to be too sensitive, but it felt like a slap in the face. It was long since he felt his feelings so invalidated and belittled. Jack was only looking at his phone, he was exaggerating. He looked at the screen and saw an article on the recent murder. The man was slightly put off by Jack's tendency to be constantly focused on his studies. Stupid fucking nerd.
Jeff's pride was hurt by that so badly that he pulled away without a second thought and marched away to his room and when he came back, he was holding a sketchbook and a fistful of chewed-up pencils.
Jack shoots a judgmental glare towards the supplies. Jeff flopped down onto the couch but this time he chose the other end of it instead of being up in the other man's space. He wanted to lean on his roommate for a little while longer but his ego wouldn't let him.
He opened his notebook and held the remains of a pencil he had to measure his model's proportions. Jack just looked at him in confusion, but Jeff didn't really care. If he doesn't want to provide some comfort, Jeff would make better use of him, regardless of the subject's opinion on it.
He started putting the first lines onto the paper and soon enough he had a whole picture. Jeff was clearly proud of himself. He got every single mole right. He secretly wanted Jack to see it but he would have to ask for it by himself first. Sorry, not sorry, Jeff was mad.
He finished the piece and immediately moved to another place to start it over again. He needed a full set of twenty after all.
He now noticed that Jack was feeling out of it too. His roommate's head weakly rested against the headrest, he was barely even glancing at his phone but Jeff decided to ignore it with no shame although the man looked like he was about to faint.
He spat out sketch after sketch until he decided that he'd had enough for today.
"You look like shit, ya know?" he asked bluntly.
"Yeah I think I'm going to be sick, sorry," Jack replied with guilt in his tone,
"Aw, poor thing. Maybe we should both go to sleep?"
Jack nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
"We both have school tomorrow morning," Jeff added.
"Right..." Jack was feeling drunk on his own weakened state right now.
"Then go to bed, idiot. I'll go to mine right after," Jeff got up looking at him expectantly, his worries seemed to be all gone for now.
Jack just reached out a hand, looking weakly towards Jeff.
"Oh my God, such a child," he took his arm and pulled the man up, letting him lean against himself as they both slowly stumbled to Jack's bedroom.
As soon as they arrived, he fell down onto the mattress and didn't even bother to cover himself up with a blanket. Jeff just chuckled at that.
"What? Want me to tuck you in?" It seemed that he was joking but shooting a shot didn't hurt anyone.
Jack nodded lightly and Jeff, with a faint smile appearing on his face, lifted up the man's legs to take the comforter to snugly wrap it all around him. He didn't even notice, but the moment he looked back at Jack's face—his roommate was sound asleep.
Jeff then quickly left the room, not wanting to wake the other up and seem like a creep, but the sight he got to witness was oddly endearing.
Notes:
HI!!! Today's chapter is super rushed, but its 11;58 pm so I'm still on time ;].
Past week was batshit insane so it's also short but the next two chapters are my fav out of everything i planned for this fic. Also I've decided impulsively to rename every chapter after a song i like. Deal eith that
Chapter 4: I want you to know that I'm awake
Summary:
word count is 1700 somehow
murder, gays and everything nice
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was somewhere around two in the morning. Jack woke up feeling intense discomfort. His head was dizzy, eyesight was blurry and the funny sensation in his stomach made him think he was about to vomit. He sat up on his bed, face buried in his palms.
No more than a moment or two passed before his hands were covered thoroughly by a sticky dark substance dripping from the corners of his eyes. He let out a scowl but scolded himself internally right after as he reminded himself that Jeff was asleep on the other side of the wall.
Suddenly an excruciating hunger hit him. He felt as if his stomach was tying itself in a tightest knot. He needed something—someone— to feed on or his memory would be getting worse and worse. The longer he starved, the more he felt like he was drifting away from his sense of self and the demon trapped deep inside him was resurfacing. Again.
Jack hated it. He was between the devil and the deep blue sea. He didn't know the people he was killing, they hadn't hurt him in any way, but there he was, killing them, tearing entire families apart just because he was hungry. He was destroying the lives of many. On the other side, he didn't want to do it in the slightest. He was forced to by the sickly twisted cult members. The ritual left a mark on him and it was undeniable. The boy he was before wasn't coming back. Instead, he was replaced by an apathetic college student turning into a bloody murder machine once a month. He was just trying to survive and navigate the life that was taken away from him.
He thought he should just end it all. He'd slice open his stomach precisely where his kidneys were, rip them out of his body, and devour them. His hunger would be silenced forever and he'd just have to wait until his body becomes numb from the lack of blood. He wouldn't take any painkillers because he wanted to experience it in the same way his victims did. He deserved nothing more, nothing less but to bleed out in his own bed, alone at an ungodly hour. He reached out under his bed and felt shivers running down his spine as his fingers grazed the cold metal of a scalpel.
He pulled up his shirt and slid his fingers over his midriff, marking invisible guidelines for the sharp object to trace along. He then firmly grabbed the device he would perform his surgery with and lightly followed the imaginary lines causing himself two, very shallow cuts. They didn't even bleed, he thought he was such an attention-seeker even though he didn't plan on telling anyone. He glanced at the wounds—if he could even call them so—and felt a deep sense of disappointment.
He tried once more, in the same spot. Maybe he would go deeper this time, he thought, but the second attempt caused just more skin irritation. He was so useless he wanted to cry. He had done it tens of times before but suddenly, all his strength vanished into thin air in the moment where it was much needed.
Jack heard something rustle and reminded himself that his roommate was in the other room. He couldn't do it now and make Jeff go through all the hustle. He'd find Jack's dirty, bloody corpse and he'd have to make an uncountable amount of calls just to then be left with all the stanching mess to clean up.
The malnourished loneliness was his only companion right now. Except for Jeff, technically. He was undeniably asleep and Jack didn't want to bother him as he knew how tough the man's day was.
He managed to motivate himself by the fact so he got up, pulled an old, black hoodie on, sliding the scalpel into its pocket. He then grabbed his trusty combat bag with all the other equipment needed but didn't bother to change out of the plaid pajama pants he had on. He knew they wouldn't get dirty anyway. Not wanting to waste any more vital energy than he had to, he went straight to the door.
While fighting with his shaky fingers to insert the key, Jack heard something. Like a window opening. He thought he must be hallucinating as he was barely able to walk. Not paying much mind to it, Jack went on his stroll.
Stumbling around further and further from the city, he noticed a house that seemed to be separated from the others which made it a great target. He got in by a ladder resting against a balcony on the first floor to find himself in the bedroom of a woman. His target was probably working a corporate job as he saw a suit hanging over the chair.
He breathed in, sliced her stomach open with chirurgical precision, and put her kidneys to the side.
Her eyes opened widely in shock and as she was about to scream, Jack finished her off.
Stab.
Stab!
STAB!
One after another, Jeff was piercing the man's stomach with his knife. It was the most ecstatic he felt in a while.
He sliced his cheeks open, widely grinning as he did. He went back to stabbing. He wanted to play with his victim a little bit so he stopped for a while, closing his eyes.
He liked for his victims to look at him as they passed away. The expression of utter terror painted on their faces was something that could never be replicated outside of that setting, so he wanted to savor every second of it as well as the power he felt from being the one to cause it.
When he opened his eyes, he solidly pushed a knife all the way through the anonymous person's neck while staring deep into his soul in a crazed manner. He leaned close, the fountain of blood aimed at Jeff's face. He was basking in it, in the glory of being a master of life itself. It was everything he ever wanted to do, he felt the most like himself in moments like those.
There was nothing on his mind, he was unstoppable and unfathomable for an average human being. The moral high he was on was really something he'd describe as otherworldly. He was a god and it was undeniable, way above all the normal people walking on Earth.
The man was dead. Still warm, but undeniably not alive. It didn't bother him. He pulled his knife in and out of the man's stomach a dozen times before getting off of him.
He turned to the door, but instead of it being empty -like it always was- there was a person staring at him. He was shaken therefore he didn't even flinch. He just watched his silent observer quickly vanish into the mansion's shadowy corridor.
He stayed in the bedroom for five more minutes, he didn't want to leave unless he was sure that the building was empty. He heard a window open, followed by a quiet thump. The mystery man jumped out of the window, huh?
He went downstairs and left through the back entrance. Better safe than sorry.
On his way back home he picked a different route, just in case he was being followed. The further he moved into the city -the brighter the lights got, so he managed to pull a dirty hood over his face.
He finally stood in front of a familiar tenement house. Getting up the stairs, all the way to the third floor was a hustle after such an intense night. He took a short break after the first staircase, but not wanting to get noticed, he pushed his way through to his flat. Only if the elevator in this shithole wasn't broken all the time, he thought.
Jeff tried to quietly unlock the door and miserably failed. The silence in the stairway was so overwhelming that every sound seemed extraordinarily loud.
He entered their flat, and changed out of dirty clothes into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top a little too short on him, still trying to be as sneaky as possible, as he was sure Jack would be sound asleep in the moment.
He put the kettle on the stove being in the mood for some tea and as he waited for it to boil, the door opened.
Jack came in and saw Jeff. He didn't know what to think. No more than half an hour ago he saw his roommate violently mutilating a random man. It was honestly disturbing. Yes, Jack killed a person too, but Jeff did it in such an aggressive way that it almost made him unbearable to look at. To his surprise, there was some sort of comfort that he could find in the situation.
He didn't plan on revealing his identity to Jeff soon, but it was nice to know that he would understand. He was the same, or even worse.
-Where were you?-Jeff asked with mild curiosity.
-On a smoke,-he said. He probably reeked of cigarettes, so it should be a believable excuse.
-Yea? I haven't seen you with a cig before.- He added but surprisingly without any tone of suspicion. Maybe Jack was just paranoid? Jeff didn't know it was him in the mansion, did he? He had no reason to suspect Jack of any disturbing activities.
Jack shrugged his shoulders casually and took off his combat boots to go lean against the kitchen aisle.
-I'm making tea, you want some?-Jeff smiled.
-Please.
Jeff just nodded at him and it made him feel especially grateful. He never pushed him to talk when he didn't feel like it. He was nice.
Jeff sat up on the kitchen counter and Jack followed, sitting up next to him. A black-haired man reached out and turned on his radio, which started playing "Starting Over" by LSD and The Search for God.
They lounged in the kitchen, kicking their legs in the air and waiting for the water to boil as nothing but music filled the room. For Jack it felt so incredibly domestic. He longed for a moment of closeness in this specific way ever since he remembered
Notes:
hiya guys, this one is late as i got kinda caugt up in doing other fun things. Somehow it turned out to be extraordinary short which is weird since i spent the most time on it. Apologies. :P
Also it looks so embarrassingly short on desktop I can't.
KermitWithNoDrip on Chapter 1 Tue 15 Apr 2025 10:54PM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 1 Wed 16 Apr 2025 04:47AM UTC
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KermitWithNoDrip on Chapter 2 Wed 23 Apr 2025 02:03AM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 2 Wed 23 Apr 2025 03:53AM UTC
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KermitWithNoDrip on Chapter 3 Wed 30 Apr 2025 01:17AM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 3 Fri 02 May 2025 07:36PM UTC
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MattyG2421 on Chapter 3 Wed 30 Apr 2025 03:05AM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 3 Fri 02 May 2025 07:37PM UTC
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NAVEtheSHRUB (Guest) on Chapter 3 Thu 26 Jun 2025 09:03PM UTC
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KermitWithNoDrip on Chapter 4 Wed 07 May 2025 12:42AM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 4 Thu 08 May 2025 11:49AM UTC
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MattyG2421 on Chapter 4 Wed 07 May 2025 08:21PM UTC
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Narmun on Chapter 4 Thu 08 May 2025 11:48AM UTC
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alexgrules on Chapter 4 Thu 15 May 2025 06:26PM UTC
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