left arm bent over pillow - tousled head, the other reaches skyward in a morning s t r e t c h, surfacing a groan.   â  GOOD MORNING tâyou, too, sleeping     beauty.   â  flops back down onto his pillow with a soft thud, carries on tiredly with a ramble.   â  it is now the year two thousand forty - nine, i am a RELATIVE of jeremyâs ;; rich & successful & i totally got laid last night.   â  Â
             listening carefully to the otherâs words, michael squints at the admittedly blurry yet familiar shape. maybe it was the exhaustion, but some small part of his brain believed the silly story. putting on his glasses, he looks at his arms first thing, a grin growing.      â first, my skin is fucking fantastic if itâs two thousand fourty nine. like, shouldnât i be really old by now ?. â     he looks over to the source of the other voice, laughter now bubbling.      â and if you got laid last night, does that mean iâm the â lucky â one ? had no idea you were into older men, not - jeremy. â