No people, living or otherwise, are immediately apparent.

It's not hard to find the treehouse his classmates mentioned, the one that the kid who murdered his parents fell out of and broke his neck.  Looks a bit mundanely dangerous to get up there, though; the steps nailed to the tree trunk have had a couple decades of elemental exposure.

"The famous treehouse!" he says to the camera. "At least one part of the story was true. But I don't want to break my neck so I am going to be careful here. Unfortunately for you guys, that means the view will not be amazing, but hopefully the mic can pick up on what I'm saying just fine." He has an armband where he can secure his phone and then he can start climbing the steps verrrrrrry carefully, making sure to pretty thoroughly check each of them before actually putting his weight down.

Then he can ascend without falling!  This board in particular feels pretty weak, but they're close enough together that he can skip that one if he wants to.

Roger that. He is being very slow and methodical anyway. "Sorry, guys, I know this is slow, but safety first! If something's gonna kill me it better be the axe murdering ghost and not me being stupid." Next step, pull on it, see if it's shaky at all.

"You know, it's really hard to find information about murders from almost thirty years ago, but one thing I did dig up was that he fell down the stairs bad enough to be hospitalised shortly before all the everything happened. Now, that could be a coincidence, but maybe not, and what am I here for if not speculating about people who died three decades ago? And, you know, a kid mysteriously falls down the stairs that badly, and then kills his parents... makes you think, what could've happened?"

Another step, pull on it. "There's an obvious guess, though, isn't there? Especially that long ago. The West is good about gays now but it sure wasn't back then." Step seems good, onto it. "I wonder if Jeremy was cute. I couldn't find any pictures of him."

The treehouse has pile of a couple crumpled blankets and several books, over in the least-damaged corner.  One of them has fallen half off of the stack, pages up, the relatively unweathered whiteness standing out against everything else.

"Is it bad that I'm talking about the West, now? Oops, guess the foreigner in me's slipping through." He allows his accent to get thicker for that last sentence. "But, well, what can I say, Korea does suck a lot more for gays. You know, I wasn't out, back there? Or, like, people pretty much knew, but I wasn't, you know, out out. Almost no one was. So scandalous. People could get into physical fights over being called gay. I mean, it's 2025—wait I'm here now, I got distracted."

He grabs his phone again and points it at the place, light on. "Kind of surprising that there are still objects here? It's been thirty years. Also, still no ghosts. Unless the books are the ghosts. Hello, Mr. ghost, I'm sorry to intrude—wait, that's probably rude. Hello, Mr. Jeremy, I'm afraid I forgot your last name, and maybe you're one of the parents instead. I'm going to look through your books to judge your literary taste but if you have objections to this feel free to voice them!"

There's a book of assorted poetry, a couple classic mysteries, and the first three Kite's Attendings.

"Actually that was also rude," he says, looking over the books. "I'm sorry, it's just that I don't think ghosts are real and it makes it hard to take it seriously. The non rude version of it is—you know, I'm not sure? It's just rude to just invade someone's tree house without invitation and then look through their books like that. Well, if you're real, I'm sorry for being rude, I promise I wouldn't be doing this if I thought so.

"On the bright side I lied, I can't actually judge your literary taste because I'm too foreign to recognise any of these. Poetry, though, you sound like a very interesting ghost." What genre is Kite's Attending?

Looks kinda old-timey?  Fantasy, maybe.  They're doorstoppers.  If he cracks one open and flips through it he can catch both some really flowery prose and like, tables of shipment information.

Huh, okay. "Old books. I suppose you died thirty years ago, stands to reason. I should see if I can find books to recommend you that came out since you died. I guess there's Harry Potter but let's not support the transphobe. ...do you know what transphobia is? I'm not sure how common that was in the culture back then. I'll explain later if you're curious, but let's just say the author of Harry Potter is a shitty person. Also the prose is not as good."

Nothing happens in response to this.

No, he didn't expect it to. "I'm not gonna take the books in case there's someone who actually owns them but now I'm curious so I'm just gonna," and he takes some pictures. "Well, here we go, then, no ghosts in evidence other than these oddly well-preserved books. Time to climb down those scary steps and see the rest of the property. ...maybe I should've been streaming this rather than just recording it, get some interaction. Hey guys, do you think I should be an influencer? I'm pretty enough, and really funny and charming, I think I'd do great as an influencer." He looks substantially more amused than that warrants. "Anyway, bad visuals incoming." He attaches his phone back to his armband and starts making his way back down, just as slow and methodical as on the way to.

....No.  No, actually, he must not be climbing as carefully, because one of the boards snaps off from its nail under his foot.  And if he's being careful to hold on with his hands in spite of this, it'll turn out that they're much slipperier than he was expecting.  He's going down the hill.

What. 

What!!!!!!

Well he knows how to fall. This, uh, is not the ideal falling situation, but fucked if he's gonna let his back hit the ground, a broken arm is a lot more recoverable. He tries to twist to fall on his side and tuck his chin and bend his knees—

It almost feels like something shoves him.  Maybe he landed on a branch and levered it somehow; in any case: down the hill he goes.  There's a creek at the bottom.

This was a stupid idea. Seriously, seriously stupid. He really should've refused. Let them think he's a coward, they're cowards, too. Fuck, man. 

Fine. He's not a swimmer but he can swim, hold his breath and keep the chin tucked in and knees folded and wait a bit rather than flail, let his body's momentum smooth out in the water before he tries to go back up—

It's really not that deep, actually.  He might not even get his knees wet, if he were standing up.

But something's pinning him to the bottom, so that's not really an available point of comparison.

...pinning him? What is? No, that has to stop right the fuck now, he's not a swimmer and he can't actually hold his breath that long so he needs to get rid of whatever is trapping him right now.

He can successfully get whatever it is off one of his arms, but then a few seconds later it's just replaced by something holding his head down.

...once is bad luck, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action. And he knows how to deal with enemies. It is by stabbing.

Where is his knife. Can be get his knife. He can't get his knife. His brain is lacking oxygen but he must not breathe in, this is an embarrassing way to die, he can get his knife, he needs to get his knife and use it to—stab—less panic, he needs to stop panicking and to just execute, remove whatever is in his way and get his head up, he can't die he can't die he's too young he just moved away from Kang Jaehyuk he's just started to live he can't die—

Yeah, this doesn't really help.

...fine. Fine! If he's gonna die then he's going to choose when to die. He's not gonna let his involuntary movements and his assailant win. He's gonna die on his terms. 

......he doesn't want to die. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck. 

He breathes in.

And, shortly after, he dies.

Stupid.

And then he's on the shore, and there's someone else's mouth on his mouth, breathing life into him.

And then he's coughing up water and turning around so he doesn't swallow it back up and it hurts and feels horrible and awful and he's alive alive alive he didn't die he's still stupid but he's a living stupid person oh God why.

The owner of the face backs off and gets out of his way.

"감사합니다," he coughs. "—sorry. Thank you. You saved my life. Fuck." He coughs some more.

"Uh, you're welcome - is there anything else I can do to help -"

"I, uh, don't know." He coughs, looks up—

—oh hello there.

"Sorry. I'm Jake. I owe you my life."

"I don't know about that."  He offers a hand up.

He accepts it. "And what should I call my saviour?"

"Uh!  Uh, Matthew.  And you are?  - You're Jake, you just said that actually.  Hi.  You... should come inside?  We have, uh, towels."

He was saved from his stupid stupid death by a hot gay boy. Someone is looking out for him out there. 

"Yeah that's probably a good idea. Lead the way?" Where, uh, is he, how far down the creek did he go, his memories are kind of fuzzy.

He's actually right about where he started.  The tree, treehouse, and house are all just up there.

—wait, what? 

Wait, his phone. It was still recording, it was dark but the flashlight was on throughout, maybe it'll be illuminating about literally what the fuck just happened.

His phone is normally waterproof, but it also normally doesn't have a huuuge crack across the middle of it.  It stays black no matter his buttonpresses.

Fuck. Goddamnit.

No one is going to believe him aughhhhhh!

Wait, right, his confusion. "Do you... live here? Was I terribly misinformed about how abandoned this house was, did I invade your house?"

"We just moved in kind of recently."

"Oh no. I've been terribly rude, I'm so sorry."

"....It's fine.  Or like, I'm inviting you in, now.  I mean don't do it again, but by 'it' I mostly mean the drowning part, y'know?"

"I will do my very best," he says, primly. "Would not want to disappoint my saviour."

...He doesn't seem to know what to say in response to that.

That's an excellent response, honestly. Jake likes leaving boys speechless. He'd try to fill out the silence now but they're almost at the door so it's probably fine to let it sit while looking pretty.

"Matthew" is apparently speechless enough to be stuck in front of the door for a moment, but then yes they can go inside.

There have been some improvements made to the interior, it seems, in a way that was absolutely not true of the outside; Matthew flicks on the lights (incandescent), heads for a cupboard (decorated with a doily), and tosses Jake a towel (of a vaguely-weird fabric).

Oh he'll spare a moment to be thankful for actually not being in any of his designer clothes, those are definitely not meant for mucking about in the water. Like, sure, ruining expensive shit is a good way to annoy Kang Jaehyuk, but he's got more class than using Prada for that purpose. 

Can he dry his hair in such a way as to look kind of handsomely bedraggled, he's gonna try, it probably helps that he's fit and his not-designer T-shirt is clinging to his body. "Thank you. Your place is very charming."

"I didn't really have any input on how this part of the house looks.  But thanks."  He glances at Jake's torso but then keeps his eyes either on his face or elsewhere in the room.  "Do you need anything else?  Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling okay, but maybe I shouldn't be, if it'll give me an excuse to hang out with you longer."

"...I have a few minutes at least."

"A few minutes is hardly any time at all, but is perhaps enough time for me to get your number. ...or for you to get mine, seeing how I have apparently wrecked my phone."

"...I don't have one.  And the landline's not set up here yet."

"You don't have a phone? Like, at all?"

"My parents are kinda..."  He shrugs.

"Are they the kinda kinda where if you got a phone somehow that'd be a problem and you'd rather not hide it from them?"

"...A little bit, yeah."

"Hmm, we'll see if I can't change your mind about that at some point, but I guess it can't be helped. The ball is on your court, then, Matthew; how should we keep in contact? I should still like to do something to apologise for trespassing." Can be be really direct? Is a once-over and a very very subtle biting of the corner of his lower lip too direct?

It's direct enough to make him blink.  "Uh!  You could come over tomorrow?"

"That sounds good to me. I'll be at school until five, but I should be able to be here at six. —I'm a senior." That is to say, he is over eighteen, relevantly. He knows white people have trouble identifying the ages of Asian people, by which he means he has had multiple people say he looks too young.

"You have clubs or something?"

"It's a fancy boarding school and after school activities are mandatory."

"Are they good mandatory activities?"

"I'm actually enjoying journalism club a lot more than I thought I would! There's also judo which is not much my thing but it's more my thing than the other sports so I'm doing that, too."

"Well, I hope you enjoy those and then also enjoy coming here around six tomorrow."

"I'm certain I will, and then it'll be your turn to tell me more about yourself. But you're right that it's late and I shouldn't overstay my welcome." He considers thanking Matthew again but he caught Matthew's discomfort earlier and he thinks Matthew probably wants to play down the way he saved Jaeha's Jake's life. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"I would really like that.  Think you can get off the property okay or should I walk you out?"

"Oh I think I might get lost if I go in my own, walk me?"

"Sure."  It's pretty dark and now that there's no functional flashlights about a steadying arm is genuinely helpful.

Oh right no flashlight. Damn.

Well, he'll cling perhaps a little bit more than necessary anyway. This is going great.

Matthew stops two steps from the sidewalk.  "Get home safe."

"Thank you." He pauses, evaluates, gets onto his tippy toes—Matthew is taller—and kisses him on the cheek. 

In Korea, this would not necessarily mean anything. 

"Have a good night, Matthew," he says, and he's not in Korea so it does mean something. He turns on his heel and walks away, not turning to look over his shoulder because that would not look cool and collected.

Well, then, he won't see the reaction.  And maybe that means the reaction is different than it would otherwise be.

He's pretty sure he knows.

People do, actually, mostly buy his story. The fact that he's got a broken phone and some bruises to show for it is pretty convincing, it would be kind of insane to go to these lengths just to pretend you went to the haunted house, people know Jake's rich but come on, trashing a phone over it would be a bit much, wouldn't it?

(lol)

He sends the phone in for repairs—he mostly wants the data, he wants to know if he can recover the video he'd been recording—and buys himself two new phones. Then he spends most of the day obsessively looking up stuff about Kite's Attending and a couple of the poetry lines he vaguely remembers.

(Look, it's not just because the only connection he has with the boy is purely physical that he can't make it more. Boys like it when you're interested in their interests.)

And at six o'clock he's at the apparently-not-haunted house to resume seducing a boy.

The answer to the door is very quick.  "Hello!"

This boy continues to be cute. Jake wants him flat on his back.

"Hi. Miss me?"

"Uh.  Kind of."

"Kind of missed! I will cherish this achievement for the rest of my days."

"...Maybe more than kind of.  But it's a little cruel to make me admit it, don't you think?"

"Oh, is it? But I'll do it freely: I spent all of today thinking about you."

"Well if you want to admit it that's your prerogative.  - Come inside.  I made uh, I tried to make brownies; I think they might be bad though."

"I'm sure I'll love them," he says, walking inside. He's of course sure of no such thing but it's not like he cares about food, and it'll make the boy happy if he enjoys them.

"I wouldn't bet on it."  Here are the brownies!  Pre-squared, and they taste... weird... like they maybe aren't quite made of chocolate.  But strangely good in spite of this.

"This is good! I thought it would be. You'll need to give me the recipe at some point, unless it's a family secret of some sort," he teases.

"It's a me secret.  Should we go hang out in my room?"  He offers his arm.

"What a gentleman," he says, accepting the arm. "Are you parents around, should I say hi to them?" Please say no please say no please say no—

"No, they're driving back to pick up the rest of our stuff.  Down in Alabama."  Matthew steers him through the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Alas, maybe at some later point." Whew.

"Maybe!"

Good to see Matthew is of a mind with him about the desirability of this. He grins.

Matthew's room is densely decorated with retro posters and music (CDs, tapes, vinyl).  There's also a fair selection of books.

"—okay I was being polite yesterday, this room is substantially more charming." CDs, tapes, vinyl, he wants to look at those.

There's a lot of variety.  Smatterings of classical, jazz, pop, lots of punk and various subgenres of rock.

"You're very eclectic. —ah, wait." He sets his schoolbag down and reaches into it to grab a brand new iPhone box. "You can sell it or throw it out or give it to someone else if you want, but I have to do my part," he says, placing it on a desk.

And now to explore the books and not look at the phone box at all.

Several poetry books, a bunch of single-volume collections of works by individual authors.  Textbooks, history nonfiction.  Fantasies, mysteries.  Almost everything looks secondhand at least, except for a comparatively-pristine boxed set of Kite's Attending, split into more volumes than the ones in the treehouse.

"So the Kite's Attendings in the tree house are yours! I hadn't heard of the series before but that's probably due to the, you know, being Korean thing."

"How much did this cost."  Gesture to the phone, still lying on the desk.

"Oh no, please let's not get into that," he says, turning around to look at Matthew seriously. "I bought it because I wanted to, if it was a huge cost I wouldn't have. I am not expecting anything from it."

"I just... don't, uh.  Want it."  He runs a hand through his hair.  "I'm sorry."

"That's fine, you can get rid of it, like I said. Or sell it, or throw it down the creek. It's a gift, it wouldn't be a very good gift if I had opinions about what you should do with it."

"—I'm really sorry.  Thank you.  It's, uh, wonderful, I'm just—kind of an idiot.  I'm sorry."

"You're not an idiot! ...I might be a little bit. I'm still getting used to, uh, here. America." Also with being around people who are not filthy rich, which, ha ha, he is not going to bring up at all.

He'll just smile. "Let's talk about more fun stuff. What do you like about Kite's Attending?"

"The prose is really good.  I have an embarrassing number of passages memorized."

"I noticed the prose. I'm honestly not sure if my English is good enough for it, but maybe that's all the more reason to practise. What's your favourite passage?"

"...Currently or generally?"

"Well, both, if they're different!"

"Generally it's—there's this woman, Bera, and she's the leader of, let's summarize and say 'this group', and she has to pull off a bunch of really complex things to get people to do favors for her and her people, and there's a really high chance that she's never going to be able to pay them back, but a ton of her people will die if she doesn't get these resources.  And on multiple occasions she just does it, even though the people she's asking have really good reasons to want to use their own stuff, but she just... she gets at the heart of, of all people being worth the same, deep down, and how if you can take on a little inconvenience to save others' lives it's worth it, and... mostly it works, and she keeps most of her people alive by calling on the kindness in others, and she becomes strong enough to pay back the people who helped her and then some, and there were some people who weren't convinced to help and she still gives them enough material to build a better system so that they'll have enough going spare to help people in similar situations going forward.

"And she's just, she's the best example I know of a character who's just good, and by gooding hard enough and being smart and eloquent and convincing she saves her corner of the world and improves more of it.  Which, uh, I just think is a really beautiful idea."

Oh.

Jake wants to kiss this boy.

Like he already did but.

"And more recently, it's.  Um."

He takes a deep breath.

"I would die for this.  A score of times—if I could—you'd see me burn, hang, drown, freeze, fall from the cliffs of Enreilda, be rent apart by Mhorang's lions.  I have been pierced by spears and spent long months recovering; I know pain.  I would take it on again, and worse; it is not foolhardy unconsideration which drives me to call on these fates.  I know what it would mean to suffer in these ways.

"I know, too, that there is no mechanism under heaven that could facilitate such a transaction.  I know that a future of safety and fellowship cannot grow in a field sown from one man's pain.  Cloth isn't transmuted from suffering and a wish that it exist; it is woven, explicably, in a process permeable to reason.  The fabric of society is much the same.  I know this, and I have wept for it, for I have seen what causes may bring about the warp of trade routes and the weft of thriving cities.

"Brother, I love you, but my death would not enrich these lands.  Yours will.  The estates which bring you peace and comfort—ah!  That I could leave them to you... please know, at this, the moment of your death: I wish for only one thing more than your stability.  It is that for all others.  Die, knowing your sacrifice is also mine."

"—That's, uh, really different from Bera's deal, kind of the opposite really, but it's just.  I've been feeling really, um, dramatic, recently.  And it's—y'know, it's that."

Fuck it.

He crosses the two strides of space between them, hooks an arm behind Matthew's lower back, and pulls him into a kiss.

"Mm—"

Is this too fast? Jake doesn't know. But the boy is responding, he's responding very positively, and objectively speaking this isn't like a record or anything, it's just...

...this tastes like Matthew's first kiss.

Ah fuck, he better not catch feelings for Jake. That would be such a mess if he did.

On the bright side, Matthew's getting his first kiss with someone who has a lot of experience kissing and is very good at it, if he does say so himself. So. Probably a win? Whatever, he'll—wait a couple of seconds, then pull away. There's a routine.

"I, uh," he says, without actually letting go. "Um."

Yeah what if they were still hugging and therefore didn't have to look at each other's faces.  "...........Jake?"

"Hi, Matthew."

"Do, uh...

"Hi."

"Do?"

Matthew breaks away and sits down on—the floor, apparently.

"I was, uh, going to apologize for reciting something that took so long, just a really long passage, but now that seems like maybe not the thing to do, but... I can't.  Think of anything else.  To say."

...shit, that was too fast. He kneels down on the floor, too, but doesn't try to get any closer. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have rushed, that was my fault, I pushed you past your comfort zone and that was not cash money of me."

"What?"

"...I'm sure that's a real expression and I didn't make it up," he says, grabbing his (new) phone to quickly Google it. "'Modern slang, Gen Z slash internet'," he says, grinning a little. "'Used to describe something awesome, cool, or impressive'. It was not very awesome, cool, or impressive of me to pressure you."

"Oh.  I'm not very, uh, 'hip'."

He looks at the vinyls then back at Matthew. "I maybe noticed."

"You maybe could have."

He looks down at his lap, still grinning. "Anyway, I just. I dunno, you were responding, and then you said those things and, I dunno, they were really attractive? For some reason? I just really felt like kissing you."

"You mean you weren't trying to get me to shut up."

"...what? No! What! That would be so rude, no, of course not!"

"I was going to say it was the most pleasant way anyone had ever done that..."

"...well. I mean, I guess maybe it could've been. But no, I didn't—it was attractive. The way you were—being."

"Oh.  ...I kind of have zero social skills, I think.  Sorry.  Uh, thank you for clarifying."

"And I'm foreign and unused to Western culture so I'll promise to forgive you for being rude if you promise to forgive me for being rude," he says, offering his pinky finger.

Pinky-link.  "Sounds like a good deal to—"

"...me.  I'm not going to hold you to it, though.  If I do something really outrageous."

"Well I'm not promising to forgive you for being bad, just rude. But, you know, I don't hate bad."

"Many bad things are also rude!"

"Then I'll forgive your rudeness but not your badness. Unless I feel like it."

"Sure, if that's what a pinky promise means to you then I'll take it."

Grin.

"So, where was I before you tragically interrupted me by acting really attractive, right, I was asking about you. How old are you, by the way?"

"Nineteen."

"—oh, you're my senior." For some reason he thought they were the same age. "Cool, I kissed an older guy." Not that this is his first time. Or tenth.

"Soooo much older."

"I'm Korean. Back home I would be asking you if I could call you 'hyung'."

"...I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

"It's a term of endearment males use for older males. I'd call you Matthew-hyung or just hyung, when I talked to you. And I'd need to use the formal register with you, unless you allowed me not to." Also it's a term gay boys use for their older partners and a great way to be gay in public in a 100% plausibly deniable way since it's also just, like, for friends. But he's not gonna mention that right now.

"'Unless I allowed you', wow."

"I owe you respect and I should look up to you and learn from you, and you should be a role model and a good influence. ...people don't think about that all the time, it's just what it's meant to mean. And we're all used to it, the formality thing."

"Well, I permit you to be informal with me."

"Hey thanks!"

"Hey you're welcome!  Wow."

"Is it that weird? I guess it is."

"...Is what weird."

"The whole formality thing. Is that not what you said 'wow' about?"

"....Nooope.  Uh, sometimes, when you smile..."

Oh is that what that was about! Now they're back on very familiar territory.

He leans forward and grins widely up at him. "What about it?"

"Well, it makes me say wow."

"Should I stop?"

"Not on my account."

Since he is kneeling, the only way to get closer is to get on his hands and knees. "Should I be doing something else instead?" he asks, eyes lowering to Matthew's lips.

"—Uh!"  Matthew is now leaning away.  "Uh, maybe not, right now."  ...He seems to notice the leaning and straightens back up.

"—understood," he says, and he's kneeling again, and, man, come on, Kang Jaeha, you're usually better at this, what's up with you? "So! Are you at school, or college, or...?"

"...None of the above, really.  It would be nice to get some work, but," shrug, "with, y'know, being in this house.  It's kind of a job in itself."

"It is? Are you having to rennovate it yourself or something?"

"Preeeeeetty much."

"Oh wow. That sounds like a pain in the ass. ...you might want to check the steps going up to the tree house, that's where I fell, they feel a lot sturdier than they actually are, it turns out."

"Oh geez.  Yeah, I... will do that."  He clears his throat.  "Uh, for what it's worth I'm really glad I met you.  Even though the circumstances were—like that."

"I'm glad I met you, too! Oh I never even explained why I was here, did I, you said you moved here recently—apparently this house is famous for being haunted or something? Some kid thirty years ago axe-murdered his parents then broke his neck, which sounds crazy but I did some digging up and I'm like, so the kid was in the hospital for a—you know the story already," he guesses, from the face journey Matthew starts going through.

"...Yeah, I've heard of it.  Kinda hard not to, to be honest."

"Yeah. So, um. My guess is that the kid's parents were abusive, and if I'm projecting it's probably 'cause he was gay, but maybe not, but like, relatable. ...uh, I did not murder my parents. To be clear. But they're—well, father is not happy with it, mother is not in the picture."

"So do you believe in ghosts?"

"No, not at all, but the kids at school dared me to go there at night. I was recording it all to prove I did, but my phone got messed up when I fell." Also he died. Like, if it hadn't been for Matthew, he'd have been dead. It's—it doesn't feel real, it feels like a bad dream, it was so fast, but—like most bad dreams he will instead not think about it.

"Sorry about that."

"Not your fault," he shrugs. "But anyway, yeah, I was there on a dumb dare. Maybe now that there's people actually living here they'll stop sending each other on dares. So stupid."

"As if.  Why would people stop coming to see the ghost just because I'm here?"

"Well 'cause then where's even the fun? It's not scary if it's just someone's house, there's a perfectly logical explanation for the noises, it's that someone lives there."

"But what about the additional, scary noises, not caused by," he starts a spooky voice, "~any living persooooon.~"

Elsewhere in the house, a door slams.

He jumps, then laughs at himself. "—that was very good timing. Are your parents meant to be back or do you need some door stoppers?"

"No yeah, it's just fuckin' drafty in here.  Shouldn't have to worry about them showing up."

"Well, doors slamming because of the wind are also not really scary, though I think maybe in the middle of the night I might've made a fool of myself in front of my camera."

"It's funny that people always do that stuff at night.  I don't even think ghosts are supposed to be less powerful during the day."

"I mean, it makes sense, right? You're more tired, slower, you can't see things very well or react, your eyes start making up monsters out of shadows, everyone's asleep so even if you ask for help it'll take time to come, and it's quiet so every little noise sounds louder. It just plays with your head and if you let yourself get in the mood to be played with you can tell all sorts of ghost stories."

"Well—"

"—Uh, hm, it's probably pretty lame to be like 'are you in the mood to be played with' while I'm not, uh, in the mood to be kissed.  That sounds like it would be pretty rude, now that I think about it."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Are you thinking of playing with me without kissing me? You've got me curious, now."

"I think, uh, my brain was just slower than my... other parts of my brain.  Sometimes I just get really, I want to say the thing that sounds witty, and... everything else is slower than that."

"Well, for the record for whenever you get into any moods, I'm always in the mood to be played with."

"If you say so."

Additional door slam!

He jumps again and looks over his shoulder at the door, then back at Matthew. "Are you really used to that?"

"I mean, yeah.  ...I don't not believe in ghosts, I gotta confess.  I just don't think Jeremy or his parents have it out for me."

"If my theory is right there's no reason to be scared of Jeremy, we're queer buddies. If it's not, I guess I just hope he didn't do the axe murders because he thinks axe murders are just a fun pastime." Also ghosts aren't real.

"That's cute."

"I just kinda feel like if ghosts were real it'd be easier to prove, you know? And I'm way more scared of living people. Whatever Jeremy's parents did to him while they were alive is scarier than what he can do to me now that he's dead."

"Maybe there are lots of restrictions on what ghosts can do that make it hard to definitively prove they exist!  That would be really tragic, wouldn't it."

"It would be really inconvenient. But it also makes them less scary, right? Because it means that they can't do the kinds of scariest things that would make it obvious they exist."

"Yeah, that's true...  Unless there are also scarier ones who all want to keep the secret."  Hand through his hair.  "But that's probably too much of a stretch, isn't it."

"I mean, I don't... really believe in anything. So. It's all as much of a stretch as anything else to me."

"That makes sense."

"You really should get some door stoppers though. Or ask Jeremy or his parents to be a bit more considerate of their housemates."

"It doesn't really bother me.  Is it getting to you?"

"It would just get on my nerves, I guess. But maybe I'd get used to it, I got used to the dorm at the school and teenagers are not the quietest people."

"How long have you been there?"

"Just a month."

"That sounds rough."

...He scoots in a bit closer.

...why is that what's making Matthew want to cosy up?

"It's not great. Especially in senior year."

"Sucks, yeah.  I went to... six high schools?  I think?  And it was definitely worse at the end."

"Six? Why, do your parents travel a lot?"

He gestures at the house situation.  "Yep."

"That sucks. I'm sorry."

"...In some ways it was nice, getting to see so many places."

"What places have you been to?"

"Alabama, Washington, Ohio, Utah, Kansas... Georgia, but that was Atlanta and my parents found out pretty quick they couldn't abide cities; that was just during the summer.  So all rural places you've never heard of, and all continental US.  There are more than that, but those are, yeah, the high schools."

"And you don't like using phones, and I don't see a computer in evidence, so you've just... not kept in touch with anyone? That sounds lonely."

"...I've been really lonely for what feels like forever.  Yeah."

"Do you want a hug?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I would really like that."

Matthew can have a hug.

...Jake can also have a hug. He's kind of realising this is the first hug he's had that's not part of, like, sex or makeouts, in... at least months? Maybe years?

Matthew is maybe a little bit clingy. 

"...You're warm," he comments into Jake's shoulder.

What an extremely silly observation.

...it's also kind of adorable. 

"That's true. It's a great strength of mine, being warm."

"It's not one of mine.  Alas."

"You don't feel particularly cold, but—never mind."

"I guess I wouldn't."  Hug break.  "I have really poor circulation, though; check it out."  He holds up a hand for Jake to take; it's indeed fucking freezing.

Will it be bad if Jake moves as to wrap his fingers between Matthew's?

Well, it'll be fucking freezing.  Matthew doesn't seem to mind, though.

"I can warm you up, then."

"Oh.  —Oh, is that what you were going to say."

"I was going to give a perhaps more specific suggestion but with that intent, yes."

"...I see."  He squeezes Jake's hand and then extracts his.  "Are you free tomorrow?  To maybe come back here?"

"I am. But we could go somewhere else, too, if you wanted. I know some nice restaurants and I have a car."

"Fancyyy.  But I'm kind of home-bound for the moment."

"Waiting for deliveries or something?"

"Or something.  ...Do you like puzzles?  Or mysteries?"

"Like games or stories or...? I'm not any good at puzzles, and I'm scared of horror movies so mysteries would need to be not that."

"...Uh, more like, there's something about me that I've been trying to get you to figure out.  Because I think that would go better than me telling you.  But I think I might be kind of bad at clue giving, and even if I wasn't it's probably just really hard.  So... I'll probably tell you tomorrow, if you don't get it by then?"

"...a real life mystery? I'm probably bad at those." What hints has Matthew given him? "Do you already have a boyfriend or something?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"Okay... I dunno. Give me another hint."

"Uhhhhh.  It's that I have a health condition."  —He winces a little, like he maybe regrets saying that one.

"...you've been giving me hints about your health? They flew right over my head." A health condition? Which is really hard to guess, and Matthew's been trying to drop hints about it, and it'd be better if Jake figured it out than if he was told, that sounds either serious or relevant for sex.

Does he have an STD? Except, no, that was absolutely Matthew's first kiss. Well, maybe it wasn't, maybe Jake's wrong about that...

"Yeah.  Sorry, I think it's really hard, like I said.  We can talk about something else."

"If you want to. I'm curious, but like I said, I'm probably not any good at it."

"Yeah.  I, uh, really will almost certainly tell you tomorrow; it's just... a lot."

"Is it, uh, the kind of thing that—money can help with?" Kang Jaeha what are you doing you met this boy yesterday.

Jaehyuk would pitch such a fit if Jake spent a ton of money on a boy's health issues. This would be a great idea, actually.

"Not—directly."

"Alright. I'll just follow your lead."

"It's kind of... both better and worse than 'a health condition' makes it sound?  I don't think that was a good clue.  It's misleading, even if, uh, true."

"Matthew, you should either talk about it or not talk about it, it is very cruel to tease my curiosity like that."

"—Okay, sorry!  Uh, what's your favorite book?"

"Oh I'm really bad about favourites. And, uh, not a big book person." Should he be emotionally honest. He probably should. "I think the book that most affected me was, I think it's called Almond in English? It must be, it just uses the same word in Korean, 아몬드. But nowadays I read webtoons more than anything."

"Am I going to sound like an insane person if I ask what webtoons are."

"You are! But not any more insane than I already thought you were, or not much more, at least. They're just online comics, usually people publish, like, a handful of pages a week or so, I think in America they're often just free but in Korea they're really popular and there's a bunch of platforms where people can buy individual chapters or whatever." He's gonna open the Lezhin app on his phone to show some comics to Matthew. They're all in Korean, though.

"Woah..."

Maybe this'll seduce Matthew to the 'can use a phone' side of the Force.

"Also a lot of it is porn," he admits. "Like, not most of it, I think, but—I think it's pretty much the main source of porn kids I knew had? At least the gay ones. And sometimes I use the Western website instead of the Korean one because Korean has censorship laws that are very ridiculous and sometimes the English translation of the comic isn't censored."

"..."

He's starting to feel like Matthew's parents are not great, either.

"Sorry, should I not have mentioned that...?"

"It's, uh, fine.  I just don't know what to say about it.  Again."

He locks his phone and puts it in his pocket. "Please forgive me for stepping on any mines, I'll do my best to avoid them."

"I already promised I would.  ... Not that, uh, I think you were being rude there—sorry—"

"I don't think I was being rude but I think I bumped against something I didn't know would bug you, which is different. But it's fine, you are the most interesting person I've met since moving to America."

"Really?  I guess that makes sense, actually.  Comes with the 'being weird' territory."

"Being normal is overrated."

"It probably has its advantages."

"Everything does! I still like you being you instead."

"This is by far the best interaction I've had with anyone in... ages.  To um, not let your comment go unreciprocated."

"I hope I'll be able to outdo myself in the future."

"...I hardly dare hope for such a thing."

"Come on, we met yesterday! Surely this can't be peak Jake in your life."

"We'll find out.  ...But maybe tomorrow, if that's alright.  I—really like hanging out with you.  A lot.  But I'm getting kind of tired."

"—oh, sure." Is that the health issue. "Are you okay?"

"I expect to be in fine spirits tomorrow.  It just would be really nice to lie down alone for a while."

"Understood." Up he gets, ow, his knees hurt, he's been on the floor far too long.

"Hug?"

"...you're so cute," he says. Of course hug.

"Wow."  Jeremy rises and receives the hug.

And then, yeah, "I'll walk you out again?"

"My handsome gentleman, of course I would love nothing more."

"Wow."

So Matthew takes him by the arm and out of the yard again.  Inside the house he's a little pushier, or maybe he's just worse at balancing in the somewhat-narrow passageways.  He doesn't offer Jake a brownie for the road, even though it's by this point pretty late and he has no reason to think Jake's had dinner; he just escorts him straight to the sidewalk.

Concern! Much concern! It doesn't seem like Matthew wants his concern but he has it! 

He stops before the threshold, turns around, and says, "Tomorrow at the same time, then?"

"Yeah!  I look forward to it."

He—is clearly trying to look plausibly deniable about it but is also clearly, by the slight lean forward and the turn of his head, asking for another cheek kiss.

Adorable. He can get it, then, though this time Jake lingers the kiss for a moment.

"Wow.  Thank you."  —He spins Jake around to hug him around the shoulders from behind, and kisses the top of his head.  "I'm going to disappear.  Get home safe."  And he releases him to give a playful little shove out onto the sidewalk.

When Jake turns around, there is indeed no sign of Matthew.  Also he's super hungry.  It's almost as if he didn't even have the brownie.

Maybe it was a sugar-free brownie of some kind and that's why it tasted different.

Who cares. Matthew is adorable and Jake is going to have his way with him in no time.

Oh god.  Oh god, Jesus Christ what is he doing.  What the fuck is he doing—he fails to stop himself from carrying on in this vein for quite a while, which is fine because it's not like he has anything else to do for the next 20-some hours.

Eventually he calms down somewhat.  It makes sense that after being alone for so long, he would find interaction so—intoxicating—especially when that interaction is with a hot guy who seems into him.  (He was waiting for someone who seemed seduceable, not—)  It's really clear to him that this reaction is not the sort of thing he can fix by just intending to; he knows he in some sense has what he thinks is an impressive reserve of willpower, but he also knows himself well enough to immediately be able to tell that he's not going to be able to draw on it while talking to Jake.  (...Well, no points for introspection there; he just spent quite a long time trying to exercise willpower around Jake and completely failing.)

So this is clearly the sort of thing where he has to change something about the situation ahead of time, if he expects this to go differently, except: how can he possibly do that.

He spends a few hours flying around the property, trying to think of ways.  They could talk outside, instead of in his room?  That won't help; it'll just make Jake cold.  They could...

The thing is that even with Jake away, Jeremy doesn't actually want to act very differently.  He got hugged.  And also kissed.  (...Kissed in kind of a chiastic structure, even?  Resurrection kiss from him, cheek kiss from Jake, big kiss, cheek kiss from Jake, another kiss from him to hide him disappearing.  And huh, the first one was introducing magic and allowing Jake to see him, while the last—Jesus Christ he's a fucking nerd; he's got to keep that on the down low when Jake's around or... well, Jake actually seemed to like that.  Whatever, it doesn't matter, he can't really control what he does around Jake anyway so what's the point of worrying about it.  And he plans to break the structure tomorrow, anyway.)

He pace-floats, and frets, and thinks about the kiss and everything around it, how Jake backed off and gave him space when he seemed skittish, and his smile, and it's all just so—

Nice.  It feels really nice to think about, but he knows where that feeling leads and how frustrated it'll make him feel if he lets it grow.  To say nothing of how ill-suited it is to the reality of the situation.

So he goes and lies in the crick, letting the water and the fish pass through him until he feels like he's not there at all.  It takes a while; he keeps remembering the last time he was here and having feelings about that, but—then he's not there at all, and neither is his sense of time, and he can skip most of the day like that.

So. A health condition, huh?

...Jake really has no fucking clue. It's probably not an STD, if Matthew gets—weak and tired like that. Cancer? Does he have cancer? Is it terminal, is he trying to be like oh we can't date because I'm going to die so I don't want to lead you on but you're so hot and into me and it's so hard to resist~

He knows he's hard to resist, of course, so that'd be a convenient story, but also, he doesn't want to date Matthew so it's a nonissue. But Matthew probably doesn't know that, he seems really old-fashioned in a lot of ways and might be catching feelings.

This is... really something Jake should not be encouraging. He's gonna need to figure out a way to explain to Matthew that he is a slut and not looking to particularly settle down, no matter how adorable Matthew is.

Also there's definitely something up with all of that, like, no phones? At all? And no computer? What kind of—there's a word in English for that, what was it—what kind of Luddites are they? And did they threaten Matthew or something, or does he agree with them that tech is bad? Wait, are they, like, not allowed to treat some disease that is straightforwardly curable if only you were allowed to fucking use medical technology or something?

Argh. He is really, really bad at mysteries. And he shouldn't be wasting his time on this, anyway, Matthew said he was gonna say what it was later today, so he can just wait.

On the ?bright? side, in the afternoon they manage to somewhat recover the video that was being recorded by his phone when he fell from the tree house, so he can go watch that and see what the fuck happened that night.

The video is remarkably unilluminating.  Frustratingly so; the thing that shoved him was on that side, and it really looks like there should be a clear view of whatever it was.  But there's just... nothing there.  It's not even like the screen was damaged at that point, either; it's very obvious when that happens.  (It's when it hits a rock in the bottom of the creek!)

...???????

What.

No, he's, he's certain there was something—well, not certain certain, his memories are kinda fuzzy—at least the stuff he does remember is in the video, but—what??

Yeah, he can see the trees and the house in the background fine, if blurrily from the motion.  It really doesn't look like there's anything there.  Maybe it got him from a really specific angle?  Which isn't the one he remembers feeling?

That's.

Confusing. And frustrating. And... a bit scary.

.........................ghosts aren't real. Get over it, Kang Jaeha. You're spooking yourself for no reason.

Did the ghost of Jeremy try to kill him and Matthew saved him ghosts aren't real. What happened to your atheism, come on, man.

Maybe the mystery will be solved tonight. After six o'clock, when he goes to visit Matthew. Which he is going to do, even though the day seems to start to drag onnnnnnnnnnnnnnn after he watches the video.

(The ghost idea wasn't even his, it was one of the other kids he showed the video to. It's stupid, is what it is.)

(At least now everyone believes him about visiting the haunted house. Someone jokingly suggests that actually Matthew is the ghost of Jeremy and Jake is being manipulated, which is one of the dumbest things Jake has ever heard in his life.)

Anyway! Time to go see a cute boy who is not a ghost because ghosts aren't real!

"Hello!!"

"Hello. I'm not going to ask you if you missed me today because you said that was cruel but let it be known that I once again thought about you all day long."

"Well, now we've interacted for more than a few minutes.  I missed you too."

Beam.

"And I'm rewarded for my honesty.  ...Right upstairs, do you think?"  Here's his arm.

He accepts the arm. "I like this. It's a very charming habit."

"It's purely practical, I assure you."

And... Matthew's still pretty steer-y, even though he seems chipper and not particularly off-balance at the moment.   —Come to think of it, they might have been going on exactly the same path through the kitchen every time?  Jake always gets a bump or a tug to avoid that section of tile, and also those spots on the stairs and this bit in the hallway.

...he was not paying all that much attention but this is the third time and he's starting to notice a bit of a pattern. Maybe those are weak spots that will need to be refurbished? The house is pretty old. 

"If you say so. It's very gallant."

"Picture me blushing."

Once they're upstairs, Matthew doesn't let go of him, and instead positions him—there, in the middle of the room.  With Matthew standing close to him, almost as if he expects them to start slow dancing.

"Would you like to register any guesses, before the reveal?"

"Uhhhh." He thought Matthew was going to take a bit longer. "I think my guesses are probably all either stupid or insensitive so probably not?"

"Then may I kiss you, first?"

Cancer theory becoming concerningly more likely! 

"Anytime."

He's a little bit slow with the lean-in, but then: kiss.  Kiiiiiiiiss.

.....Jake has heard people describe kisses where the world seems to fall away, kisses that make you feel weightless with their magic.

He hasn't ever had one, before, where that felt literally true.

Uh... huh? How, uh, literal are we talking?

If he opens his eyes his vantage point is—higher?  Maybe he's imagining it.

Actually, no.  He's super legitimately for sure at least a couple feet off the ground.  Definitely.

He pulls away immediately and—takes a step back? If he can???

He can kick his legs in the air and flex his foot against nothing, sure.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I've got you.  —Unless you want not that, in which case I don't—gently!  I mean I'll put you down gently.  If you want."

Oh wow okay so he literally can't escape he's being floated—chill, Kang Jaeha.

"...Jeremy???" is what he asks, probably because of what Anne said earlier, but it makes no sense, but he's literally flying—

"Yeah.  Yeah, good job, you got it."

"Okay, I feel like I need to tell you this. Ghosts aren't real."

"Okay."

"So this isn't happening. And you're not Jeremy. Okay? And we're still in a world that makes sense."

"....No...."  He lowers them down to about a foot above the floor, though doesn't land them yet.  "Sorry.  I thought really hard about how to break this to you and this was the best I could come up with.  I can do all sorts of things to prove it to you, if you want—if you need to go away for a few days, process it, I won't stop you—but please, come back someday—I need you—"

"—what? No, Mat- Jeremy I'm not stupid I'm just being petulant and also trying very hard not to freak the fuck out. So I'm just saying things and not thinking about them."

He needs Jake? That's—not great—but—

"Can you put us down? I'm not gonna run."

"You can run away if you want to.  ...You'll want help getting out of the house, though; there are holes in it."

He lands them softly against the ground.

Well he said he wasn't gonna run so he isn't gonna run. So there. Nyeh.

"...okay. ........was I right. I mean I guess you could just lie but I'd be much reassured if I was right about why you axe murdered your parents."

You're doing great at this not freaking out thing, buddy, good job. Wait, stop thinking about that, that's starting to increase his heart rate and he does not want to freak out right now. No thoughts head empty.

"I do not think axe murders are just a fun pastime."

"...were they. Really terrible."

And then he sees Ma- Jeremy's face and, "Wait, no, shit, what am I even saying. Sorry, I don't—fuck, forget I asked." If he's right then that's not going to be a great memory to dig up, is it? 

No actually what he's going to do is hug M- Jeremy. Because it must've sucked tremendously.

"....They're a lot better these days," he mumbles, tucking his chin into Jake's shoulder.

"Oh of course your parents would be ghosts, too."

...if he killed Kang Jaehyuk and died and had to keep living with him afterwards he would kill himself a second time.

"...you're a ghost. Ghosts are real. Jeremy, what the fuck?"

"I was also pretty surprised when I learned about it, I guess.  The thing is—most ghosts aren't like me.  They don't exist all of the time.  So, that's why my parents aren't here, and that's why no one has conclusively proven to the public that they exist."

Unhug.

"But you could help me change that..."

Blink. 

"Hold on, so—no sorry I still need to process this." Matthew was Jeremy all along— "You are a ghost right now, right? You're not, like, possessing Matthew or anything?"

"Yeah—yeah, absolutely.  Sorry, there's a lot to cover, and—ordering is hard.  But yes, I'm a ghost, I am just a ghost although a weirdly powerful one, this is what I looked like when I was alive although I'm doing a lot of illusion-y stuff on top of that.  Like, there's not really electricity in here, for example."

"Oh so I was totally right when I said you were cute. ...wait." He starts to think back on everything he said and then he decides to stop that. "Okay I just realised I said a bunch of insensitive things but in my defence ghosts aren't meant to be real and I didn't think you were gonna be listening. Were you—"

"—wait."

"Jeremy, what happened in the tree house."

"Okay, I would like to start out by saying that I'm really sorry, and I was in kind of a, a desperate circumstance, and I tested out everything I could in advance and I was pretty sure it would work.  And I'm really sorry."

"Jeremy." Is this what he had been freaking out about when Jake promised to forgive him for being rude? Because uh yeah this is way worse than rude probably.

"So, um, I know all of these spells, for ghost reasons, and one of them is this 'Breath of Life' spell that you can use to resurrect someone who died recently enough, if you're my type of ghost, and, it had to be on this property because that's the only place I can go, and—now we're kind of tied together, you and me and also this property, and you can see me—no one's been able to see me for so many years, except my parents—I don't even know what year it is; I lost track, being alone all the time, but I died in 1997, you do the math—I tried writing to people; sometimes I'm strong enough to hold a pen for a while, but they all ran away eventually, usually right after finding out who I am—a dozen people, Jake, and not one of them worked, and I have the power to get ghosts all over the globe, everyone throughout history, I can make their afterlives better, but not—without help—and it just kept not working for so long, so...