The thunder clapped outside, rousing Jon from his slumber. Eyes wide open, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He turned to face his dim alarm clock, the digital time reading "2:37". Jon rolled over, away from his clock, and faced Evan. Beautiful, sweet, innocent Evan. Chest softly rising and falling with serene breaths, enjoying a peaceful sleep.
Jon sat up, blankets falling down his naked torso. He swung his tan legs over the edge of his bed and took slow, steady steps towards the bathroom. His mouth was uncomfortably dry, and he desperately needed a drop of water. He shut the bathroom door to stop the light from flooding out into the bedroom and awakening Evan.
Jon turned the faucet, letting the soothing water run over his hands and splashing the water into his face. Once he dried his face, he grabbed a cup and drank quickly, enjoying the cool feeling the water was bringing. He placed the cup down and stared into the mirror. Light hickeys spanned from his jawline down to the base of his neck. His hair was rustled and there were hand shaped marks on his hips. Jon traced his thin fingers over the marks, relishing the sensation. Jon also eyed some scars on his lower torso that Evan didn't spot, that he got from Vanoss one risky mission years ago.
Then Luke's words came bouncing back into Jonathan's mind. Evan might have been suspicious of Jon, thinking that he's tied to Delirious because of the eerie timing of the deaths of the anchormen. Luke said the only way to diverge that suspicious is to have Delirious and Jonathan in the same place at the same tome so Evan can be sure Jonathan isn't a rampant serial killer. That's when Jonathan decided what he would do.
The thunder still rolled and clapped outside as Jonathan snuck back into his room. He retrieved his Delirious uniform from an inconspicuous box underneath his bed. Once he was back in the bathroom, he put the signature blue, zip up hoodie on and the black pair of slacks. Finally, he slipped on the infamous hockey mask, clean of blood. He pulled out a large, sharp knife from the bag, blade ringing out against the fabric.
If he scared Evan, maybe he will successfully be able to quell his suspicions of Jonathan. Even more so if Jonathan rushed in to 'save the day'. Jonathan shut the bathroom door, and snuck over to the bed where Evan slept. Jonathan's faint shadow loomed over the bed, covering Evan's face. He raised the knife high above his head.
A series of lightning cracks woke Evan and illuminated the room, including Delirious. Evan's face lost it's colour and he threw himself under the blankets, face buried in his pillow. As soon as Evan did so, Jonathan rushed quietly from the bedroom to the bathroom and began stripping down into his bedroom attire, a pair of black boxers.
"JONATHAN!" A bloodcurdling scream arose from the bedroom. Evan must have realised he wasn't there to defend him. He hid his Delirious attire in the bathroom where Evan could never reach, he would return it to the original location in the morning.
"JONATHAN! COME QUICK! BRING YOUR GUN!" Jonathan burst through the bed room door holding the smallest gun he owned, a tiny pistol. It was the only gun Evan knew he owned, he wouldn't dare reveal the bigger weapons he had stocked away to his boyfriend.
"What is it Evan, what's wrong?" Jonathan asked, putting a frantic note into his voice.
"It-it was Delirious," Evan shuddered and
Jon audibly gulped, "he was standing at the end of the bed with the knife raised, then he vanished with the lightning. Please Jon, stay safe, he might still be in the apartment."
Jon lowered his gun.
"Ok Evan, I'll quickly check the place. I love you," Jon replied quietly. He snuck out of the bedroom and walked around the apartment. He took his time returning.
"Evan, there's no one out there. Are you sure you didn't have a nightmare? These past few weeks have been really stressful for you," Jon suggested, placing a warm, comforting hand on Evan's shoulder. Evan shook his head, still catching his breath.
"Definitely not, he was right there, I was wide awake," Evan countered, scooting back into the bed frame. Jonathan sighed.
"I can't find him, so let's get back to sleep. I'll be here to protect you. That disgusting man will never lay a finger on you," Jon kissed Evan and slipped back into bed. Evan's ragged breathing eventually calmed into a soft snore. Jon lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
When talking about Delirious, Jon had to insult him to keep a low profile. Reverse psychology. Too much emotion is a giveaway, and not enough emotion is a giveaway. Everyone and their fucking cats cares about Delirious in Los Santos, and with the recent murders the whole West Coast has been set alight with rumours of Delirious' whereabouts and identity. Some of the more crazy rumours suggest Delirious is Mark Zuckerberg or actually the deceased Steve Jobs, getting revenge on people who don't use their products. Idiots.
Delirious was just a man. An unassuming, ordinary man. The slight difference was the bloodlust and murder, of course. Lui, Brian, and Craig were all becoming larger names in the media alongside Delirious. They were respectively known as Monkey, Terroriser, and Ladd.
Jonathan was happy to see his friends finally settling down into their romantic lives. Craig moved in with Tyler, one of Evan's friends, and adopted a dog called Ace. Brian finally figured out his crisis with Brock, the man he was having one night stands with. Even Lui had found an Irish man called David, but that fell to shambles after David discovered Lui's blueprints and weapons in his secret compartment. Lui regret that however, he wanted to make amends with David.
A good romantic life is the least they deserve after everything they have done for the Delirious project.