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[coolerjunpei]

[After the world—or simulation or whatever—was reset, Junpei didn't expect any of their relative circumstances to escalate. He thought, well, about due for a break from all that bullshit, so it'll be smooth sailing from here on out. Imagine his surprise to blink and find himself standing in the Nevada desert again one day, then, only months older and more confused than ever and without Charles.

(Gab, however, did happen to be there.)

The whole... Nevada thing... is difficult to get away from at first, both because crises keep popping up and because certain people in the Nevada Group (only Junpei is calling them that) keep being weird about it, but soon enough he's on a plane going to London and not hunched over a desk in an American office somewhere, conspiracy theorizing about mega-terrorists. There's never actually a question in his mind about any of it—was it real (of course), should he keep their promise (absolutely)—and so he's resolute about getting on the plane as soon as he can.

And Gab is with him, too. Doing great on the plane like a real champ. Junpei has never been more on edge in his life, which is saying something after his life, and either this is a really stupid idea or the only idea that makes sense. He supposes he'll find out soon enough.

First, though, he gets lost in London; although his plane lands in the early morning, it's dragging into the late afternoon that he finally finds where he thinks he's supposed to be. He's still got his backpack (he doesn't own a suitcase) and has Gab tucked in one arm to spare his old man legs, and he's tired, and he's nervous, and if he doesn't march right up and knock on the door right now he's going to evaporate on the spot, so here goes. Unfortunately he's a loser, so he says the first thing that comes to mind when one of Charles's presumably living friends answers the door:]

—Uh, [cool start] I need you to punch a guy straight to hell for me. Is that, like... extra?

[haha....]

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[incorrigibles]

[ it's not exactly how charles would have had junpei introduced to the agency, but perhaps it's better that it's niko, instead of crystal's sharp suspicion or edwin's outright hostility — but whatever the case, it's blindingly obvious he's talked about junpei enough for all three of them to recognise him on sight. though perhaps it's better, this, than the thought that charles would have gone five years without speaking a word of him.

(like that could have happened.)

the door has absolutely no response for junpei, no reassurances for his financial state of affairs; and charles, when he gets there, falls deafeningly silent after the choked-out syllables of junpei's name. so of course junpei goes on talking, and the lightly nervous lilt to his voice is so achingly familiar and yet it feels like it's been far more than five years since charles has heard it that it's like someone's punched him to the chest real hard, hard enough to expel all the air that's definitely not in his lungs anymore.

gab makes his way over to him, rolling at his feet. charles has no idea if the dog actually remembers anything or if he's just somehow always this friendly, and a part of him really, really wants to crouch down to pet him but a larger part of him is frozen, still, watching junpei fumble with his belt loops in a move that's both awkward and terribly charming. and that, of all things, is what makes charles exhale a wet laugh before he's striding right through poor gab, crossing the distance between them and corporealising himself just in time for dragging junpei into a painfully tight hug. ]

You're real, yeah? [ is what he mumbles into junpei's hair, like he's still half-expecting someone to tell him that this is a hallucination, that he's caught in some kind of a spell, that he can't possibly be so lucky that junpei's actually, really, truly here. ]

[coolerjunpei]

[There's a not-insignificant arsenal of dumb one-liners Junpei has at his disposal about traffic and airplanes and how five years isn't a comically long time to not have seen each other at all. Not that it's been five years for him, more like five weeks, but it's been at the back of his mind all this time: five years, the promise, London. Charles. Back in Nevada he hadn't bothered to explain himself at all, out of some parts spite and some parts the sheer impossibility of it, that he has someone waiting for him who's actually been waiting for him for five years and only a few weeks at the same time—

Maybe not so impossible for his particular Nevada audience, but all the same: he didn't bother. Getting to Charles had been more important, and now he's standing here babbling about traffic and trying to look calm and collected in his Big Ben t-shirt and beat-up backpack with the extra chest strap.

Gab makes a sort of sleepy-startled huffing noise when Charles steps right through him, and Junpei glances down at the dog just in time for Charles to body him completely; he makes the same startled huffing noise. Then he's hastily yanking his one competent thumb out of his belt loop to wrap his arms around Charles and squeeze in against him, already choked up at the familiarity of it. Snarky levity abandons him in an instant, leaving him with no recourse but to cling onto Charles and mumble,] Yeah. I triple-checked.

[Maybe a little levity, if not delivered like the entirety of everything he's ever felt for Charles comes packaged with it. He's content to stand there just like this for as long as either of them is able—he won't be able to resist looking Charles in the face for long—but, also:]

She, uh... [ahem.] Well, she said it was like a manga? I mean, it's definitely more like that movie, isn't it? With the magic mailbox and the lake house...?

[incorrigibles]

[ in a moment, charles will apologise profusely to gab for this terrible slight, but for now he's unable to do anything else but hold junpei close, like if he lets him go he might just disappear. how many times has he imagined this, over the past years? how many times has he tried to remember how it feels, to have junpei in his arms like this, horrified by the realisation that the memory had felt more and more distant, each time?

in the world that he inhabits, the one where spirits and ghosts and witches are the norm, charles doesn't think his question is all that far-fetched. but junpei's response makes him huff out a laugh regardless, his eyes burning and his tone almost painfully fond when he says, ]

Haven't seen that one. Is it good? [ and then, immediately, not waiting for a response, ] I reckon not as good as this.

[ with a squeeze of his arms, he finally pulls back a little, just so he can actually look at junpei, truly look at him and try and see everything he had forgotten — the exact shade of his eyes, the way one strand of his hair wants to stick up no matter what he does. he's aware that he must be staring at junpei like one might look at a piece of priceless treasure, but he can't bring himself to care. it's not that far from the truth, anyway. ]

I want to ask you everything, but also... [ but also it's very hard to care about the specifics of how long it's been for junpei, when he got back, how everything went, when he's so elated beyond all reason that he could simply stand here for the next twenty-four hours, just like this. ]

[coolerjunpei]

[Junpei makes a noncommittal noise about the movie—it's a movie? The point is that he has references abound, really, and maybe the movie would be better with a few giant robots—but that's not important right now. He'd rather stay squished tight against Charles, and think about Charles, and look at Charles, and any given verb about Charles, really, until he passes out.

So any of those would be good. Even if, when Charles pulls back to look at him, looking back at him is—somehow—almost difficult? They've both kept the promise and Junpei has been thinking of nothing except Charles since Nevada, but there's an overwhelming quality to just seeing him that makes him glance down at Charles's shirt collar instead of his eyes, to fiddle with it to keep his hands busy until the rest of him calms down.

It's—happiness, he realizes, and it feels like it's going to knock him out because he can't remember having been this happy before Charles. A few weeks without him, even holding onto the anticipation of seeing him again, really took him down a couple notches so easily...

He'd rather be here, smiling his tiny fond smile at Charles's shoulder while his heart lodges up in his throat. Ah.]

You really need to see more movies, man. We're in the same year now, soooo... no excuse.

[But! Later. He shakes his head; he doesn't want to talk about the gritty details of his return either, so,] Can I throw my bag somewhere?

[incorrigibles]

I'll watch any movie you want me to watch, [ comes his response, entirely sincerely, because there's very few things in the world he wouldn't do if junpei asked him to.

but as much as charles is staring at junpei, the opposite doesn't seem to be true — try as he might, he can't catch junpei's eyes, though there doesn't seem to be a reason for him to think it's because of anything bad. perhaps before, he'd have spiraled very quickly, assuming it's because junpei's regretting his decision to come here, or something like that... but not anymore.

so instead of answering the question, he ducks down a little, lifts his hands so they rest on the sides of junpei's neck, moving his thumb so he can push at junpei's chin a little, try and lift it up. ]

Hey. Course you can, but... look at me, yeah?

[ he wonders, again, what it must have been like, for junpei — to wake up back in nevada, to deal with all the craziness he'd told him about, to leave it all behind on nothing but hope that charles remembered, too, and that he was still here, after five years. after all, his afterlife isn't an easy thing, his job is full of danger, and even without the whole memory thing... there'd have been no guarantees they wouldn't have taken a case too much for them in the years since he'd returned.

he'd at least had the reassurance that junpei existed, that if the five-year mark had passed, he could have gone looking for him with just a step through a mirror. ]

It's not just me who needs to know this is real, is it? But it is. You're really here. And I'm really here. And just — you being here right now's the best thing to have happened in the past fifty years.

[coolerjunpei]

[Ah, the true love of watching any movie he wants. Junpei manages a snort at that, like, don't give him that kind of power or the movies are going to get worse and worse until Charles has to question his sanity...

That's also for later, though. He doesn't resist when Charles tips his head up, but it takes him a few tries of glancing at his face and back before he actually manages to sustain the eye contact for more than a split second. This is real, and in the moment it's both the most amazing thing that's ever happened to him and absolutely terrifying. When he was in the desert, on the plane, wandering around London this afternoon— all of those moments were not quite real, not yet. They were just Junpei running after someone he loves again, caught in the purgatory of searching.

Because he's done this song and dance before, hasn't he? Look where that got him. Charles is not Akane, this is the most obvious truth in the world, and yet the fear that something will ruin this at the last moment is still... there.

(And like hell if he's going to say it, but the something is definitely himself, somehow.)]

No, yeah, I know. This is happening. [Now he's getting teary-eyed, of course, blinking a few times to get rid of it because he's not going to do something stupid like let go of Charles just to wipe his face.] It's just, uh... I don't think I got how real until you walked in the room, you know?

[He huffs out another short laugh, shaking his head.]

And I haven't showered, so I've got airline funk.