That night at Jackson's place doing whatever he did to him really altered his life for the better. For days after, he felt so light. He could breathe again, didn't think about Spencer and all the negative shit that happened between them before he died. He wasn't saddened by his death as much either. It was like he turned to a new chapter in his life.

He went out with his coworkers for the first time in forever, letting himself have a little fun for once, cutting loose, drinking, and dancing. God, it felt good to feel like his old self but better. A new and improved version.

However, he should have known that not all good things last forever. The high he had been on came crashing down all around him. Out of nowhere, he woke up in a panic. His dream fucking him over hard. A dream he couldn't even recall now that he was awake. All notions of it zapped from his mind as he shot up in bed.

The feeling of loneliness and hate sat heavily on his chest. Flashbacks of everything he thought he had moved past or at least started to move past pulled him right back in choking him.

Banging his fist on Jackson's door, it was well past three am, but he didn't care. He didn't know where else to go or how to handle what he was feeling all alone, banging harder.

"The hell, man!" Jackson leaned back, looking at the clock on his stove, "It's fucking three forty-five in the morning."

"I need you to do that thing again." He spoke in a panic. "The thing with the incense and oils."

"It doesn't work like that." Jackson shook his head.

"Why does nothing work like that." Mocked Remy in frustration.

He needed something to mask what he was feeling. It was all too overwhelming for him to take. His body acted out as it did in high-stress situations with him. Remy pushed himself into Jackson's apartment, well on to him, pressing his lips against his hard like he had done at the studio, hands cupping his face in hopes of him not pulling away.

"Fuck me." Cursed Remy as he pulled back moments later.

The outline of someone sleeping in Jackson's bed came into view, as well as the fact that Jackson was pretty much naked. His mind linking the two things together, while flashbacks of Katelen with Spencer flooded his mind, which fueled the emotions he was feeling even more.

"Fuck." He cursed again, "I'm sorry." Remy, waving his hands in front of him as he backed out of the apartment. "Please just forget this happened."

Remy has done nothing but embarrasses himself in front of Jackson. Embarrass himself and show all the sides he's never shown people before. His anger. His hate. How weak he actually is. Oh, he hated himself.

"Remy!" Called out Jackson as he ran after him. "Stop."

"No. No. I'm fine. It's my fault. . . . '' Remy hit with even more deja vu.

"Remy." Spoke Jackson more firmly, grabbing ahold of his arm so he couldn't walk any further from him. "Trust me. It's not what you think."

Jackson, smiling to himself it was kind of funny to him that he was the one that felt the need to explain himself.

"It's just Emily. She fought with her girlfriend, so she came over. We blew off some steam while drinking too much wine, so she crashed."

Jackson did the gentlemanly thing by letting her have his bed for the evening. He was about to get in the shower when Remy came banging at his door.

Remy shook his head, "Still, I shouldn't have. . " His thought trailing off for a moment, "I keep throwing myself at you and barging in, and I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore. . . it's like. . . I don't know what it's like. . . "

Jackon's look softened, "How about you come back, and we talk. You know that talk you keep avoiding but really need." Nodding his head to Remy, "I'll even spice the deal up with a brownie."

"A brownie?"  

"Yeah, made them myself. So maybe start with half of one." Yeah, half a one first would probably be best.

"As for throwing yourself at me. . '' Jackson paused in his doorway, smirking. "Don't stop." That smirk grew wider, showing off that smile of his. "I like it."

Jackson, not lying. He liked something about Remy. Unable to place his finger on it at the moment, but there was a spark of something.

"I'm not going to be your bi-curious puppet." Commented Remy, "Or muse as you call it."

He wasn't trying to be rude. He was just stating a fact. He had been there too many times already in the past with Spencer. Aware that he's the one that keeps kissing Jackson and not the other way around.

"It's just I get overwhelmed sometimes, and my body doesn't know how to react to it just lunges out. . . "

Remy didn't know how to explain it any better than that. Hell, the first time it ever happened to him was the first time Spencer and he ever kissed. He was once again the first to ever do anything between the two of them.

"Didn't ask for you to be my puppet." Jackson brushed off the comment as he grabbed the plate of brownies he had sitting on the island, motioning for Remy to take a seat in what he would call his living room.

Jackson's place was very unconventional to one's normal idea of what certain spaces were. His art and hobbies took over most of the space he had on the first level, his bed rammed in the corner and the sofa kind of sporadically placed in the middle of it all. No, coffee table or TV.

The no TV caught Remy the first time he was here. Thinking how one could live without a TV, but there were cell phones and laptops, both of which Jackson had. Making himself as comfortable as he could in the state he was in on the sofa while Jackson found some clothes to put on. Remy's gaze shifted to him as he changed, not so casually looking away when he was caught by him, trying to play as if he was just sitting there eating his brownie.

"So. Talk." Commented Jackson as he sat down next to Remy.

Enjoying his second brownie of the evening as he sat there waiting for Remy to start talking. It took him a long moment to figure out where he wanted to begin. Finally, deciding that the beginning would be the best place.

So he told Jackson everything, how they met that first night in the rain. About how Spencer's father was a complete asshole and how Spencer was treated at home, how that finally came to light, how his father was taken to court for it. Spencer's testimony sent his father to prison for life. Recalling everything just stirred up more feelings within himself.

He spoke of their first kiss. The first time he knew he was in love with Spencer. How he was still in love with him, how he tried to hide that from Spencer for so long, through all the girlfriends and one-night stands he had. Through all the times they 'slipped up'. How he knew them becoming anything more than what they already were was just going to hurt the both of them.

Remy didn't bring up the fact that he knew Spencer used his love against him for so long. Used his feelings towards him to get what he wanted in the end. Spencer had a way of keeping him hooked. Even now, after he was gone, all Remy wanted was him. Even if it couldn't be in the manner he wanted him in, Remy would honestly take anything he could get. Remy would willingly push his heartbreak aside as he's always done before just to have Spencer back in his life.

Remy felt himself get teary-eyed as he talked about the night on the boardwalk, wherein those few moments he went from having so much hope for the future to it all being ripped from him. Jackson now understood what the photos really meant to Remy, seeing how what he did was a huge dick move on his part, but God did it fuel his want to finish the installment. Jackson already knew from the moment he took the first photo what it was going to be about. He just didn't expect the subject to be the same man, Remy.

He went all the way up to the day they crossed paths in the cemetery. Giving Jackson the full circle of his life. Because up to this point, his life had been all about Spencer. Now that he was gone, he didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't know how to start over or even if he wanted to. So far, all he could do was wallow in his feelings, and he was past the point of being okay with that.