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Jean leans back against the headboard of his bed, his focus drifting to the room around him for the fifth time in as many minutes. He glances at Jeremy, the main cause of his distraction, who is hunched over and tapping away at his computer at the foot of Jean’s bed. Every once in a while he sighs and deletes whatever sentence he’s on to start over, and it’s strangely endearing. Jean could almost laugh at how much effort Jeremy puts into his schoolwork—usually athletes couldn’t care less about their classes but Jeremy loves his major, and he dedicates hours to writing and then revising his essays, always in search of a better argument or that perfect turn of phrase.
Now that Jean is firmly settled back in 24-hour days, he has more than enough time to complete his coursework, so today he has a novel Jeremy lent him open in his lap. He’s still trying to adjust to filling his free time with leisure activities, and has done so with varying success: he doesn’t dislike reading fiction, but he still prefers cooking or working on motorcycles with Cat. Continuing to ignore the book, he looks away from Jeremy and out the window, watching the sun begin to set over the horizon. He can’t see the coast from his window, of course, but he imagines that if he stares hard enough he’ll catch a glimpse of sand, of the sun meeting the water and the whole skyline turning to fire.
“It’s a good one tonight,” Jeremy says, and Jean looks over at him again. He must have followed Jean’s gaze, and the orange and pink light from the sky reflects back on them both. Jean notes, almost absently, how the ends of Jeremy’s hair are still holding on to hints of blond dye, and that simple observation has his heart clenching in his chest. He’s not sure how he’s handled so many months of this—Jeremy being his partner has simultaneously been the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.
“May I ask you a question?” Jean asks, closing his book and setting it on his bedside table before returning his attention to Jeremy.
“You can ask me more than one,” Jeremy teases. Jean levels him with a withering look, which makes Jeremy laugh. Jean will never admit that was his goal, but he feels a hesitant smile work its way onto his face. Jeremy grins back at him and adds “Okay, sorry, yes of course.”
Jean takes a second to think, knowing what he wants to ask but trying to figure out the way he wants to go about it. Eventually he settles on brutally honest, and says “You have never... made any advances on me. Why is that?”
Jeremy chokes, clearly not expecting that. It takes him nearly a minute to recover, and when he does, all he manages is a hoarse “What?”
“You are not subtle,” Jean says, picking at his nail. “And I have noticed. I don’t understand why you have never even asked me about it.”
Jeremy stares at him like he’s never seen him before. Jean realizes Jeremy is blushing and gets a little distracted by that, the two of them just holding the other’s gaze until Jeremy speaks again. “You told me right after we met that if any Trojan put their hands on you, you would cut their throat. I was pretty damn sure you wouldn’t be interested, so I was keeping it to myself.”
“Ah,” Jean says, remembering that day on the beach and how disarmed he felt then (and still feels) around Jeremy. He has always given him more than he ever intended to share with anyone, and while it was terrifying at first, he relishes in his ability to be open with his partner now. He can’t believe that Jeremy remembers that conversation, and that he abided by Jean’s words even though Jean never had to mention it again. “I didn’t expect that to be all it took to dissuade anyone.”
Jeremy makes an unbelieving little sound, closing his laptop and setting it off to the side, devoting all his attention towards Jean. “In what world would I not have respected that, Jean? I wanted you to have a year where nobody on your team even got close to crossing that line. And as your captain, I refuse to betray that trust, ever.”
Jean considers this, glancing back out at the sunset. In just a few minutes, the sky has completely shifted and the clouds practically glow; curling wisps of blue are crawling in as the sun sinks further towards the horizon. It’s so beautiful, simple, uncomplicated. He wishes, sometimes, that his life were like that.
“I appreciate that. It has made this year so different. In a good way.” He chances a look back at Jeremy, who is still watching him, eyes wide like he’s worried if he blinks Jean will disappear forever. Jean steels himself—“What if I wanted you to ask?”
“Do you?”
Jean pauses. “I think so.”
“I won’t until you’re totally sure,” Jeremy warns. He wraps a hand around his own ankle, holding himself curled together so he doesn’t inch into Jean’s space. “I like you a lot, Jean. More than I know what to do with. And that means I wouldn’t dare do something you weren’t sure about wanting me to do.”
Jean already trusted Jeremy; he couldn’t not, having watched him bend over backwards these last nine months to make Jean feel welcome, to help him when he’s hurting, to comfort him. As he watches him now try to keep a safe distance between the two of them on Jean’s bed, he thinks that he’s perhaps never trusted anyone as he trusts Jeremy now.
“I like you too, Jeremy. I would like it very much if you asked.”
Jeremy smiles sheepishly, a small and beautiful expression crossing his face. He glances towards the door and Jean follows his look, both of them listening to Cat’s boombox blare from the kitchen. Dinner should still be another half hour at least, if Jean is remembering correctly the menu for tonight.
“Okay, sure,” Jeremy says, laughing to himself. “Sure. I don’t exactly have any more cards up my sleeve.” He looks back at Jean, cheeks pink but eyes determined. “I think you’re so beautiful, Jean. I’m like, extremely into you. And if you’re interested, I’d really like to kiss you sometime.”
Jean grins back at him, the fluttering sense of anticipation in his chest swirling together with adoration at the way Jeremy’s hair curls over his brow. Jean shifts on the bed, closer to Jeremy, and holds a hand out. He waits, palm up, until Jeremy gets the picture and takes it with his own, leaning forward a little so he’s not pressed back against the wall.
“Can ‘sometime’ be now?”
Jeremy blinks, and his eyes flick down to Jean’s mouth and then back up again, so quickly that Jean wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been so close to him on the bed. “I’d like that, if you would.” His voice is so soft, just loud enough for Jean to hear him.
Jean finds that he likes this version of Jeremy Knox very much, all blushy and hesitant and saccharine. He knows Jeremy is waiting for him, so he gives in to the desires he’s been holding back for months and reaches up to hold Jeremy’s face in his free hand, pulling him into a kiss.
Jeremy gasps against Jean’s mouth, somehow still surprised, but it only takes him a moment to kiss Jean back, melting into putty under Jean’s touch. Jeremy doesn’t reach out for him, simply squeezes the hand that he’s still holding, but Jean can barely think about that because the slide of Jeremy’s mouth against his is overwriting every other thought in his brain. The kiss itself is slow, the two of them learning the way the other moves, but Jeremy clearly knows what he’s doing—after a moment he brushes his tongue against Jean’s lower lip, and Jean shudders and opens his mouth to him.
It’s so good Jean can hardly stand it. He uses his leverage to push a hand back into Jeremy’s hair, tilting his head back to adjust the angle of their kiss in a way that instantly deepens it. Jeremy sighs into the kiss, and after a minute he pulls back just enough to speak.
“Can I touch you? I don’t know what would be best.”
Jean considers for a second before reaching to guide both of Jeremy’s hands to cradle his jaw, settling into the warmth of his skin before nodding. “For now, this is good. What about you?”
Jeremy grins, pressing a kiss to Jean’s cheek. “Wherever you want.”
Jean weighs his options, eventually deciding on resting his hands on Jeremy’s waist. Jeremy beams at him, and Jean can’t resist leaning in to kiss the smile off his mouth.
They kiss for a good handful of minutes, and Jean marvels at how easy this is with Jeremy, to kiss just for the sake of kissing. There are no ulterior motives, no demanding push for more. Jeremy’s hands hold Jean’s face with so much reverence that Jean feels flushed all over; he wonders if he’s blushing. He wonders if Jeremy would like it.
Eventually he pulls back enough to breathe, fingers curling in Jeremy’s t-shirt as he tries to regulate his heartbeat. He feels Jeremy’s thumbs brush against his cheeks, and he opens his eyes to look at him. He’s relieved to see that Jeremy looks as flustered as Jean feels, and he can't help himself from studying the patterns of the freckles scattered across Jeremy’s cheek.
“Was that alright?” Jeremy asks.
Jean huffs, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Jeremy, it was more than alright.”
Jeremy smiles, unruffled by Jean’s snark. “Good. I, uh, would be happy to do that again literally whenever you want.”
Because he can, he kisses Jeremy once more, and then presses a kiss to a cluster of freckles on Jeremy’s cheekbone. “Don’t you have a thesis to finish?”
”It’s mostly done.”
“Hm, yesterday you said that you have another round of revisions.”
Jeremy pouts, which is adorable. “You’re no fun.”
“I’ve heard that.” Jean smiles as he feels Jeremy laugh, his hands still holding his sides, and he waits for Jeremy to quiet before continuing. “I haven’t ever dated anyone before. It may take me some time to get used to it.”
“Of course,” Jeremy says, eyes blazing with sincerity. “We’ll take it one step at a time, together, okay?”
“Thank you,” Jean mumbles, embarrassed and grateful all at once. He still isn’t sure how he managed to convince Jeremy to like him, to be attracted to him, but he refuses to get caught up in his own head when Jeremy’s hands are still holding him like this.
Jeremy brushes his thumb against Jean’s cheekbone again, so gently that Jean shivers. “Just so you know, we can try to keep it private all we like, but I guarantee that Cat and Laila are going to notice almost immediately.”
“They are too nosy not to,” Jean agrees, and finds that he’s not all that upset about it. “I don’t mind them knowing.”
As if on cue, the music cuts out from the kitchen and Cat hollers “dinner!” loud enough for Jeremy and Jean to hear her. Jean sighs, disappointed to have this moment between himself and Jeremy come to a close, but he knows there will be more time later.
They disentangle themselves from each other, shuffling off of Jean’s bed and out of their room. Before they turn the corner to the kitchen, Jean brushes his fingers against Jeremy’s wrist, one last little gesture before they’re no longer alone. It’s just the ghost of a touch, but Jeremy smiles at him like Jean personally hung the moon and stars, and so when Laila notices his expression and goes “What the fuck happened here?” Jean can only laugh.