#thats right babey you're getting fic snippets bc i crave validation

[rebuke-me]

Jake took a shaky breath. He should go find the other boys, get out of this stupid party. He turned to the staircase, only to see a figure walking towards him. 

Older Jake, in his khakis and polo, the monogrammed initials on his chest. He looked like such a straight laced goody two shoes. Like Rich was always saying he was. 

Someone said something down the stairs to Older Jake, who turned and said something, laughing a little. 

Jake bolted, stumbling into the bathroom. He shut the door as much as he could, still peeking out at the hallway. He could see into the bedroom, could see the boy in the desk chair. 

As he watched, his older self walked into the room, and a weight fell from his shoulders. The smile seemed to fade a little, his eyes closing. "God, they're so draining. You'd think they'd get the memo." 

The boy in the desk chair looked up at him, tilting his head back to do so. "Trying to hook you up with another good, proper rich girl?" He asked, grinning easily. 

Older Jake laughed, draping his arms over the edge of the chair. "You have no idea." Older Jake rested his chin on the other boys head, looking at the computer screen. "How's the coding coming? Still crashing incessantly?" 

The boy groaned. "It's fine. I'll finish it this weekend." 

Jake was about to slip his way out of the bathroom when the next words stopped him in his tracks. 

"In time for our movie date?" Older Jake asked, grin on his face. 

Jake froze, scanning his older self's face for any trace of a joke, of sarcasm. Date? 

The boy laughed, but it didn't seem like he was laughing at the concept of the date. "Of course. What, you think your parents will let you escape?" 

Older Jake groaned softly. "No, sorry, I'm all booked up. With, you know, parties, little shrimp appetizers, polo-" 

"Yachts?" The boy swiveled in the chair, and Jake watched as his older self leaned against the armrests, bringing their faces closer together. 

"I think I can fit in your poor, poor person idea of fun with a marathon of fantasy movies into my weekend, if I move the helicopter ride up-" 

Time seemed to slow down, and Jake sat there as he watched his older self kiss a boy. A very funny boy, who was a nerd and laughed easily and liked movies, who was comfortable enough to sit in his desk chair. But a boy. He was kissing a boy. 

Jake stumbled back from the door, leaning against the sink. The hand soap clattered to the floor, and he held his breath. What if his older self and his friend- his boyfriend- came looking for him? And he'd have to explain that he wasn't his cousin, that he was his fifteen year old self, and that he wasn't queer, he wasn't like that. 

And he'd be lying.