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Jeremy had never heard the singing. In elementary school, when his friends heard the song that was stuck in their soulmate's head, he thought they were lucky to get it so soon. When his friends heard the singing in middle school, he thought he was just a late bloomer. When, in high school, his head was devoid of anything but his own thoughts, he accepted the fact that he didn’t have a soulmate.
It was rare, but not unheard of, to not have a soulmate. There were forums online, Facebook groups or subreddits for those who have never heard the music in their heads. By the time he got into USC, Jeremy had come to terms with it. He didn’t need a soulmate to be happy. It always stung a bit when the person he was dating left him because they had found their soulmate, but there were also plenty of people that he broke up with simply because it wasn’t working out. The soulmate thing had just become another reason why it didn’t work out.
When Jeremy said he was fine with it, he really meant it. Sure, he still got a little sad whenever he watched a romcom of soulmates finding each other or read books where it was casually mentioned, but most of the time, he didn’t think about it at all.
Until Jean Moreau showed up.
Surprisingly, it was Jean who uttered the word first. Jeremy had been humming in the car, driving Jean to practice, when Jean clutched at his head. The poor guy started getting frequent migraines from adjusting to the excessive sun. Alvarez and Laila had to talk Jeremy out of buying Jean an umbrella, so Jean could walk around like a vampire in the California heat.
“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked.
Jean pressed his palms into his eyes. “Fine. My soulmate sings very frequently. It is hard to manage with these new headaches.”
He didn’t know why the word affected him so much. Jean having a soulmate shouldn’t have mattered to Jeremy. He didn’t care when Alvarez and Laila held hands. When the other players on their team gushed about hearing their soulmates. Really, he was happy for them. Why wouldn’t he be?
Jeremy was almost glad that he didn’t have to inflict his constant singing onto another human being. Jean was definitely an example of that. He couldn’t imagine how he must feel, hearing someone sing in your head so much when you were never allowed to listen to any music yourself.
They had a chat about it late one night. Their team decided it was a good idea to go to the beach at one in the morning, wanting to do something as a group since the semester was so close to ending. The December wind whipped around them, making Jeremy shiver. Despite being from Canada, his time at USC had stripped away any tolerance he had for the cold. Jean watched him for a moment before taking off the light jacket he had on and passing it to Jeremy.
“I can’t take that from you, it’s freezing,” Jeremy said.
Jean shrugged. “It was always cold in the Nest. I am fine.”
Usually, Jeremy would argue more, but the cold made him cave. He wrapped the jacket around him, zipping it up over his nose. Wrapping his arms around himself to further stave off the cold, he realized that the jacket smelled like Jean. Like his vanilla shampoo, like his laundry detergent, like something slightly metallic that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It had an almost calming effect.
Once they settled in their place on a more grassy side of the beach, away from their teammates, Jeremy asked, “How was it, having such a present soulmate in the Nest.” He usually steered clear of asking Jean questions about that place , but he couldn’t help himself. He was curious.
Jean, who was sitting cross-legged, looked down at his fingers as he fiddled with them. “It was… good,” he said softly. Jeremy could barely hear him above the wind. “Somedays, they were all that gave me the power to keep going.”
Jeremy nodded, ignoring the pang that shot through his chest. “Have you tried finding them?”
“I…” Jean locked eyes with Jeremy for the briefest second before looking away again, light pink tinging his cheeks. He must’ve been getting cold. “No, I haven’t.”
Jeremy nodded again. “Do you need help? Not to brag, but I’ve helped three teammates so far find theirs,” he said with a tone of mock arrogance.
Jean smiled ever so slightly. “No, but thank you. I don’t… it’s fine.”
“Okay. Well, if you ever change your mind, I literally sleep in the same room as you.”
Jean's smile grew. He laughed softly when Jeremy started to shiver again. “Come on, allons-y . We are waiting in the car until the others are done playing.”
Jeremy didn’t protest, though another shiver ran down his spine as Jean placed a hand on the small of his back, guiding him to the parking lot. It’s just the cold , he told himself.
Yeah. Just the cold.
~
Jeremy couldn’t blame the cold anymore as Spring came into full bloom. It was getting warmer and warmer, yet the shivers still remained, only occurring when Jean touched him in some way. Jean had gotten a lot more touchy recently. He would put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder while talking, he would nudge Jeremy with his elbow, he would link their arms if they were in a particularly crowded place. Jeremy couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He was utterly and hopelessly enamoured with Jean Moreau. Who wouldn’t be, with the grey eyes and shy smiles. He had been growing out his black hair, allowing it to be messy and fluffy and all those other good things.
Jeremy never said anything. How could he? He didn’t want Jean to agree to date him just because he felt like he had to. He knew about his past with Riko. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, do that to him. Not to mention, Jean’s eyes always went so soft when talking about his soulmate, his smile so small, like it was a secret just for him. Jeremy could tell just how in love Jean was. He didn’t want to come in the way of anything. So, he opted to pine from a distance. He pretended his stomach didn’t do somersaults every time Jean laughed. He pretended he didn’t feel the heat in his cheeks whenever Jean’s shirt rode up the slightest bit.
It was okay. It was fine.
One day, they were in the kitchen together. Jeremy was sat at the breakfast bar while Jean made them scrambled eggs.
“At least let me prepare the toast,” Jeremy said.
Jean pointed the spatula at him. He was still in his pajamas, his flannel pants hung low on his hips. Jeremy had to keep his eyes from travelling down every few seconds. “You stay there. You did not allow me to help on my birthday, I will not allow you to help on yours.”
Jeremy pouted, but a light feeling settled in his chest as he remembered January first, the day they had dubbed as Jean’s birthday since they didn’t know his real one. He woke up early, thinking he would be able to bring Jean breakfast in bed, but Jeremy had always been a heavy sleeper and, instead of his alarm waking him up, he was awoken by a tired looking Jean Moreau holding up his still ringing phone.
Despite being tired, Jean still offered to help. Jeremy wouldn’t allow it though. He sat Jean at the breakfast bar, then set off to make them both a tall stack of pancakes, humming to himself as he cooked.
Now, Jean was the one cooking, humming away as he plated the finished scrambled eggs. Jeremy could almost hear the lyrics.
Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose.
They were almost as clear as his own thoughts.
Il me dit des mots d'amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça me fait quelque chose.
Jeremy was so entranced by the way Jean moved that he didn’t realize he didn’t know the words to this song, at least not in French, for longer than it really should’ve taken him.
“You’re singing in French,” Jeremy said without meaning to.
Jean froze from where he stood, toast half buttered. He looked over at Jeremy, whose head had gone quiet once again. “What?”
“In your head, you were singing in French.”
“Maybe you were just thinking the words,” Jean said.
“I— right, yeah.” Hope deflated in Jeremy’s chest. “Yeah, I probably picked it up unconsciously. Sorry,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“No, it’s—” Jean set down the toast and butterknife, wiping his hands of any crumbs, before giving Jeremy his full attention. “I— With the way you talk about soulmates, I felt guilty… for making you think you didn’t have one all these years.”
Jeremy blinked, not quite processing the words.
“I knew I had one, but I didn’t think of singing back, letting them know,” Jean continued. “The first time you picked me up from the airport, I knew it was you, but I was too scared to say anything. I didn’t think I had the right to say anything. Even after that, I… I did not want to tell you. I did not want you to feel like you had to say yes just because we are soulmates.”
At that, Jeremy let out an involuntary laugh. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It’s just that… I mean, that's one of the reasons I never said anything about liking you .”
Jean’s eyebrows shot up, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “You like me?”
Jeremy nodded sheepishly. He could feel his face heating up. “I thought… I mean, I’m your captain. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to say yes.”
Jean, finally regaining control of his limbs again, walked up to the breakfast bar. He put his exposed forearms on it, leaning against them as he watched Jeremy with a sort of awe. “Maybe when I first got here, it would have scared me a little to say no,” he started. “But I still would have said no. And I would say no now. But I don’t want to say no. I want to say yes.”
Their faces were so close now, closer than they’d ever been. Jeremy had to focus hard not to let his eyes flit to Jean’s lips. Jean, however, didn’t even bother trying to make eye contact. His gaze was firmly locked on Jeremy’s mouth.
“Then say yes,” Jeremy said. “Will you kiss me?”
Finally, Jean looked him in the eyes, grey meeting brown. “I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know where to start.”
“I can show you. I’ve been told I’m a very good teacher.”
Jean smiled at that, then nodded. “Okay.”
And so, Jeremy leaned in, meeting Jean halfway, and they kissed. They kissed and kissed and kissed and Jeremy couldn’t believe Jean had never done it before. It felt better than any kiss he’d ever had. Jean’s hands on his face, Jean’s hands in his hair. He kissed so gently, so tenderly, like he was afraid Jeremy was going to break. No one had ever been this careful with him. Not ever. It sent a warmth through his chest and a chill down his spine.
The toaster went off, startling them out of the kiss. When they looked back at each other, they burst out into quiet laughter.
“So,” Jean said after they got their giggles under control. “How did I do?”
Jeremy smiled. “Good,” he said. “Great.”
Jean smiled back. Jeremy could never get enough of Jean’s smile. “Good. That’s good.”
“Mhm.”
“I don’t really know what to do now.”
Jeremy chuckled. “Finish making my breakfast. It’s my birthday, you know.”
“I know,” Jean said with a laugh of his own. He leaned in for another kiss, this one short and sweet, but still sent goosebumps up Jeremy’s arm. “Happy birthday, mon chéri .”
Happy birthday indeed.