Gods & Monsters

XIV

The good thing about having shitty parents is that they're never home.

This is something Jacob is infinitely thankful for when it comes to the Chalamet-Meervennes. Seeing as how Jacob only has a handful of options as to where to go during his free time, having a fallback location is always nice when one is, more or less, homeless. Long ago Timothee had entrusted him with free reign of the place, knowing Jacob wasn't stupid enough to steal anything, and so whenever Anthony (or Ben or Stan or Oli or Lucas or any other charitable acquaintance of Jacob's) is otherwise occupied and cannot house him and his filthy shoes and nervous, nicotine-stained hands, he's able to come here. Just sit in Timothee's room and listen to his music as he stares at the wall or out the window, sometimes trying to read one of the many books Timothee possesses merely for show. Sometimes he'll smoke a bowl as well, but usually it's with Dylan.

Speaking of the mystical wonder, Dylan hasn't been around much lately. Or at least, not at the flat. Ever since he got a job and a boyfriend, he's been quite the social butterfly—never at home, always doing something. It's sort of precious; Jacob can't even begrudge him for it.

"So you and Jedidiah, eh?" Jacob had asked the day after the gala, trying to sort through his mess of hairsprayed hair that he hadn't been able to wash yet.

He'd stayed at Anthony's the night before, fleeing there as soon as he'd left that whole mess of a party. It'd been a wise choice—Anthony is always easy, calm company. Always very simple and relaxing. They ended up watching The Incredible Hulk as Anthony sipped on independent brewery beer and made incredibly nerdy commentary that Jacob secretly found interesting as he gnawed on his nails, firmly ignoring his phone that he'd shut off after receiving too many of Timothee's incessant, peeved text messages. He might've been firmly ignoring the fact that Troye hadn't texted as well. Maybe also firmly ignoring himself.

Altogether, it was an alright night, if maybe a restless one.

The very next morning, Jacob had crept back to the boys' flat, when the sun was still faded and pink-tinted, to return the borrowed clothes, folded neatly beneath his calloused hands. He'd felt and looked like shit when he knocked on Dylan's door, phone lying dead and untouched in his back pocket, right up against the shitty Andre Gide paperback he'd found in Anthony's bathroom—he likes to read when his thoughts are too much or not enough. But Dylan didn't care, or maybe didn't notice, and he'd stepped back to allow him in with sleep-creases still in his face, eyes puffy, a faraway smile on his face. Jacob could only attribute such a look to one thing, so he had barely taken two steps into the oil-scented room before he'd inquired slyly, plopping down in the desk chair.

"Yeah," Dylan nodded, factual and pleased, gently putting the clothes away with an almost manic grin on his awakening face. "Yeah, I'm in love now." He said it so matter-of-factly. "I think my soul has transfigured, too."

"Oh, has it?" Jacob questioned, a wry smile peeking out. "Well that's brilliant, Dearest. I love when that happens."

"Yeah," Dylan agreed. He closed his closet doors before turning back to Jacob with an even larger smile. "He's really helped me evolve. I finally understand the romantic element of the world. And my path, too."

"Dylan, you met him less than twenty-four hours ago," Jacob had laughed, but Dylan merely shrugged.

"That's how I know it's real," was all he'd provided.

Jacob wasn't sure if it was wise or foolish. Still doesn't.

Ever since then (which was just last week, actually, wow), Dylan has been remarkably different than his usual bottled-up self. Instead of spending seven hours locked in his room, tripping on Morning Glory seeds and charting the sun's path, he's been going out with Jedidiah. The sweet american boy keeps spoiling him, taking him out to exquisite dinners nearly every night and lavishing him with exotic teas and spiritual crystals and concert tickets and... And all of the other shit that Dylan loves. How Jedidiah seems to have gotten such a thorough grasp of Dylan's interests so quickly is beyond Jacob, but. It's still pretty cute all the same. He even bought Dylan a necklace—it's an eye with a yin-yang as the pupil. Dylan's worn it every day since he got it and sometimes likes to go into monologues about its deeper meaning and why Jedidiah is his yang and why he's his yin. It's actually pretty boring and semi-annoying but Jacob lets him talk.