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Jeremy’s hands shake so hard he can barely flip open his phone. It’s late, after midnight, but he can’t even think about feeling guilty because his world is crashing down around him as he stands in the quiet of his childhood bedroom, in the mausoleum of the life he will never live. He doesn’t have the time to talk himself out of clicking the speed dial button, and he wipes tears off his face as he holds the phone up to his ear.
“Jeremy?” Jean’s sleepy voice answers, his accent thicker than normal. On a good day, it would make Jeremy’s heart flutter, but right now it just makes him cry harder. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve anyone saying his name with as much tenderness as Jean does—right now, it feels very much like he doesn’t deserve it at all.
“Hey, can you come get me?”
He tries to keep his voice steady, but he knows he fails, and he hears rustling on the other end of the line as Jean presumably gets out of bed.
“Yes, of course. Are you okay?”
“No,” Jeremy admits, trying to keep his voice down as he haphazardly shoves some belongings into a bag. It’s a futile effort; his eyes are too watery to see what he’s packing, and he takes a shaky breath only for it to catch in his throat. “I don’t—I need you here, Jean. Please.”
“I am on my way,” Jean confirms, and Jeremy hears voices in the background of the call. “Do you need Cat and Laila to come too?”
“Maybe,” Jeremy says. “I should be able to sneak out, but.”
Jean makes a sound, something that might be shushing and might be angry, Jeremy can’t quite tell. “We are leaving right now. They will not stop us from reaching you, okay?”
“Okay,” Jeremy breathes, nodding even though Jean can’t see him. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
“You will,” Jean says, and the line goes dead.
Jeremy wipes at his face again, trying to focus now that his friends are coming. He carefully takes all his photos off the wall, tucking them into a safe pocket of his bag. He grabs as many clothes as he can fit, using some socks to cushion two of his exy awards, since he can’t take them all but refuses to leave everything here. He runs out of space too quickly—his room was never truly his, but he still tried to fill it with enough to make it feel comfortable, and he’s devastated that he doesn’t have enough room to bring it all with him. He throws a sweatshirt on, hoping it will stop him from shaking, and quietly pulls his door closed behind him as he steps out into the hallway.
He sneaks towards the back door, and has to pass through the kitchen to do so. It’s dark—Jeremy prays everyone else in the house is asleep, and thinks his wishes have been granted until a light flicks on when he’s halfway across the room.
William is standing in the doorway, and his eyes are sad as they take Jeremy in. Jeremy freezes, unsure where he stands with the man now that he has so thoroughly scorched his relationship with his family, but William doesn’t hesitate to reach for Jeremy and pull him into a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against Jeremy’s head.
“None of this is your fault,” Jeremy argues, sniffling quietly. “You’ve been the only one here who’s cared about me in years. Thank you for that.”
William hushes him, a reassuring hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I was happy to do it.” His mouth twists into a frown as he pulls back enough to look at Jeremy. “Mathilda requested that you hand your phone over to me. Do you need to call Miss Dermott first?”
Jeremy’s heart breaks further, if that’s even possible, at the cruelty of it all. “No, no. I already called Jean. They’re all coming to get me. Should be here in like twenty minutes, maybe less if they’re speeding.”
William nods. “Good.” He sighs, glancing around before turning back to Jeremy seriously. “Circumstances are forcing all of our hands right now, Jeremy. I will try to do what I can to help you, okay? It may take me time, but I can contact Miss Dermott with updates. I wish I could do more. Please have her send me your number when you get a new phone.”
“Okay,” Jeremy breathes, squeezing his eyes shut to try and stop himself from sobbing again. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“And I you,” William says, pulling Jeremy into one last quick hug. “I will make sure you can get out of here undetected, alright? Go out the side door, I will cover for you.” He holds out one empty hand, and Jeremy places his phone into it.
As soon as he steps outside, Jeremy realizes why William is covering for him—the light is still on in Warren’s office, and so Jeremy walks a careful path around the landscaping to make it to the front drive undetected. He sits on the ground with his back pressed against the wall of the fountain, using the cover of the water fixture to hide his presence from anyone looking out the windows.
Without his phone he doesn’t have anything to occupy his time while he waits for his friends, so it doesn’t take long for his thoughts to spiral without his permission, echoes of angry voices ricocheting through his brain making his breath hitch in his chest. He tries to think of something else but he can’t stop the tears from falling, and once it starts he can’t pull himself back from the ledge fast enough. Desperate for any semblance of privacy, exposed to the street like he is right now, Jeremy pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his arms across them so he can duck his head down and hide his face. Any composure he was able to hold onto in the house slips from his grasp now as he sobs, muffling the sounds with his arm, losing himself to the panic and sorrow and helplessness. In the back of his mind he’s grateful for the sprawling lawn, the physical distance from the house keeping his breakdown a secret from his family, but he can’t think about it now; can’t think about anything besides the look on his mother’s face when she told him that he’s not worthy of being called her son.
Jeremy doesn’t know how long he sits there, lost in his own little world of hurt, but his brain finally registers the rumbling sound of motorcycle engines at the same time that he feels a warm hand on his arm. He jerks, surprised, but when he lifts his head up it’s Jean’s face in front of his. He’s kneeling in front of him on the driveway, looking at Jeremy with so much concern that it actually shocks Jeremy out of his panic; he manages a shaky but deep breath as Jean’s other hand comes to cradle his jaw, tilting his head up. Laila and Cat are standing behind Jean, looking enraged and worried and a million other things Jeremy doesn’t have time to figure out before Jean speaks.
“What happened? Did they hurt you?”
Jeremy shakes his head, sucking in another breath, trying to regulate his frantic heartbeat. “No, not... not like that. I just have to get out of here.”
Laila moves to crouch at his side, and her hand wipes some of the tears off of Jeremy’s face. He leans into her touch, which is gentle despite the rage he knows is burning at seeing him like this. “Are you going to be okay on the ride back? We can wait a second before heading out.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jeremy promises. He glances at Jean’s face before steeling himself: “We can talk more at home. I’m technically not allowed on their property anymore, and I don’t want them to call the cops, so we should really go.”
A silence settles over the group as they realize what Jeremy means. Jean and Laila share a look, one that Jeremy almost certainly means they want to storm into the house and give Warren and Mathilda a piece of their mind, and despite how much a part of him wants to see that, Jeremy puts a hand on Jean’s chest to keep him from moving. “It’s not worth it. Please, Jean. Can we go home?”
Jean doesn’t look happy about it but eventually nods, standing up and clasping Jeremy’s hand in his to pull him off the ground. Jeremy stumbles a little, but Jean holds him up, steady as ever. After Jeremy feels firm enough on his feet Jean reaches for an extra helmet he had attached to his bike and hands it over. “Promise me you will not fall asleep while I drive.”
Jeremy nods, and Jean gives him an appraising look before handing over the helmet. They make quick work of mounting back up, and Jean hesitates only for a second before maneuvering Jeremy’s arms to wrap around his waist.
“Do not let go,” Jean instructs.
“I won’t,” Jeremy promises, and before he can breathe they’re on the road.
———
Jeremy feels dead on his feet by the time they get back to the loft, but manages to make it through the front door without collapsing. Jean takes his duffle bag off his shoulder and corrals Jeremy towards the couch, and Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to argue, sinking down onto the cushions without a word.
Laila and Cat both sit on the arm of the couch, facing Jeremy, and Jean sits to Jeremy’s right, their sides pressed together.
“It’s late, so we don’t have to get into everything right now, but what the hell happened?” Laila asks, her eyes sharp.
He sighs. He doesn’t want to get into it at all, but the sooner he does, the sooner he can pass out. “I failed the LSAT,” he starts, shoulders sagging. It sounds so pathetic, now, that this is the catalyst for his evening, when it’s something he never once has been able to find the energy to care about. “Mom saw the envelope and opened it before I got home after practice, and so was waiting for me.” He swallows, leaning a little against Jean for support. “We got into an argument. I… I shouldn’t have, I guess, but I told her I didn’t want to go to law school. It just kinda exploded from there.”
“They kicked you out over not wanting to be a lawyer?” Cat asks, incredulous.
Jeremy shakes his head, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to make sense of the argument, of the shouting match it devolved into. “No, not just that. It’s more that I can’t fall into the role they want me to play.” He stares down at his hands, memories of his mother’s ire and his step-father’s disgust nearly making him choke. “It just kinda hit me tonight that nothing I ever do will be enough for them. I said as much to Mom and she didn’t even deny it. I tried to tell her that there are other ways, that exy is something I can build a future around, but she just—“ he cuts himself off, tears leaking from his eyes again, and he lifts a hand up to wipe at his face, embarrassed.
“Jeremy,” Jean says quietly, and places a hand on Jeremy’s knee. It gives him something to focus on, and he sniffles as he puts one of his own hands over Jean’s, finding just enough strength to finish the abridged version of his story.
“She said that if I won’t do what’s best for the family, then I don’t deserve to be a part of it anymore. I had to give William my phone, and I think they shut my card off before I left the house. They already paid for my tuition this semester, so I assume I don’t have to drop out, since I don’t think you can get that back. I don’t know what I’ll do about the spring semester yet.”
The other three are silent—Laila and Cat wear similar shell-shocked expressions, but as Jeremy looks at Jean he is surprised to see icy rage on his face.
Jean is the first one who speaks. “That they cannot be proud of the achievements you have made is their own fault, not yours.” He clenches his jaw, contemplating, and Jeremy belatedly recognizes that the expression on Jean’s face is one of intimate familiarity. “I am glad you are safe here with us now, before they could have hurt you further. I am sorry they have hurt you at all.”
Laila shelves her anger, but Jeremy can see it simmering under the surface of her pragmatism. “We’ll get you a new phone tomorrow. What about your documents?”
“I think William is going to try to get them. He has your number, Laila. He told me he’ll reach out to you when he has updates.”
That seems to satisfy her for now, and she yawns into her hand. “Okay. Fuck, this is a shitshow. We need to sleep if we’re gonna deal with it tomorrow.” She stands from the couch, grabbing Cat’s hand to pull her towards their room. “Jeremy, we’ll take care of it, okay? It’ll be okay.”
He nods, because it has to be.
“We love you, Jer,” Cat agrees, reaching out to ruffle his hair before getting yanked away. “We’ve got you. Get some shut eye, we’ll see you in the morning.”
The girls disappear into their room, and Jean nudges him gently.
“You need to sleep,” he says.
Jeremy looks up at him. “I will. I guess I can just pass out on the couch for a few hours.”
Jean tuts, reaching for Jeremy’s hand and pulling him up to stand as he gets off the couch. “No, don’t be stupid. You should sleep in my room and I will sleep on the couch.”
“Jean, I can’t do that. It’s your room.”
“You are the one who needs a good night’s rest. It’ll be fine.”
Jeremy sputters out more protests, but Jean still manages to pull him into his bedroom, flicking on a light. Jeremy can’t help grinning at the sight of Jabberwocky all curled up in Jean’s sheets, sparing the two of them a quick glance before huffing and closing his eyes again.
“He loves you,” Jeremy says.
Jean mutters something rude in French; Jeremy thinks he picks out ‘ dog’ but the rest goes over his head. “For such a small creature, he takes up a ridiculous amount of space.”
Jeremy stares at Jean’s bed, wondering. He’s already burned so many bridges tonight; he can’t stand the thought of wrecking his friendship with Jean, but before he can really stop himself, he whispers “we could share?”
Jean stills, looking at him. He doesn’t look upset or angry, more confused than anything, so Jeremy continues.
“I really don’t want to force you to sleep on the couch. So, if you insist I sleep here, then we should just share.” He gestures to the queen-sized bed. “There’s enough space for both of us. It’s already so late. We need as much sleep as we can get.”
Hesitantly, Jean nods, a distant look on his face, and Jeremy knows that something about this situation has pulled him into some sort of memory. He panics, realizing the implications of his words might mean something very different to Jean, and takes a step so that he’s standing in front of Jean, in between him and the bed.
“We don’t have to if you wouldn’t be comfortable. I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Jean says, blinking a few times before his eyes focus and he looks down at Jeremy. “It’s not a bad thing. I just… have not shared since I was a child.” He pauses for long enough that Jeremy almost speaks, but then Jean adds, “When she had a bad dream, she used to come find me. It was the only way she would fall back asleep.”
Jeremy doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve this man who held his baby sister until she felt safe again, who came to his rescue tonight without a question, who protects and protects and protects and looks at him now like Jeremy is the hurt one. He has to look away; he can’t stand being the focus of Jean’s attention. “Alright, well, thank you. Just let me know which side you prefer and I’ll take the other.”
Jean motions to the side of the bed he clearly rolled out of just a few hours ago, and so Jeremy walks around to the other side, grabbing pajamas from his bag and changing quickly before lifting the covers and crawling under. Jean is already in bed, curled on his side to face Jeremy, with Jab between the two of them.
“Thank you,” Jeremy says again. It’s the only thing he knows to be true right now: he owes Jean and Cat and Laila for saving him.
“Go to sleep, Jeremy.”
Jeremy nods, shutting his eyes, and isn’t even sure Jean manages to turn off his bedside lamp before he’s asleep.
———
Jeremy wakes to Jabberwocky nosing at his cheek, and he loves the dog but groans as he pushes him away with a sleepy hand.
“Stop it,” he mumbles, and cracks an eye open. It’s morning, because there’s a hint of sunlight peeking through the curtains, catching on the tangled mess of Jean’s black hair against his pillow.
Jean blinks his eyes open, his expression scrunching up in confusion for a second as he sees Jeremy, then relaxing once he remembers the events of the previous night.
“Laila texted Coach last night—we’re all excused from morning practice,” Jean grumbles.
Jeremy reaches to check the time on his phone before he remembers he doesn’t have one anymore. It’s such a small thing to lose but he mourns it anyway, screwing his eyes back shut and forcing himself to breathe through the sadness. “What time is it?” He manages to ask Jean, and is impressed how rugged his own voice sounds. Apparently shouting yourself hoarse and then spending the night sobbing will do that.
“Just past six thirty.”
Jeremy doesn’t have class on Wednesdays until 8, so without morning practice he and Jean can afford to stay in bed for another few minutes. Jeremy still feels like he’s been hit by a bus, but he’s already slept in two hours later than he would have at home, so he tries to focus on appreciating the proximity to campus and the support from Rhemann.
“Jeremy, look at me,” Jean says.
Jeremy obeys, powerless not to, and nearly loses his breath at how tenderly Jean is looking at him.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know,” Jeremy whispers. All his walls got torn down last night, and he can’t find it in himself to put them back up now, when it’s just him and Jean in this room. “I spent five years trying to do everything I could to get them to forgive me, or accept me, and it was all worthless because I can’t be a lawyer and because I’m a disgrace to the family name.”
“You don’t even share their last name,” Jean counters, but it’s more of an aside than anything. “You’re the captain of the best team in Class I Exy. I do not think that’s a disgrace.”
Jeremy huffs, humorless. “They don’t care. To them, I’ll always be the kid who ruined everything. Add in being gay to that whole mess and I was never going to win. I just hoped they’d come around eventually.”
Jean is quiet for a moment, but then reaches a hand out towards Jeremy. He leaves it in the space between them on the bed, and lets Jeremy decide if he wants to take it or not. “Just because they are your family doesn’t mean they deserve you. They tried to turn you into someone you are not.”
Jeremy takes Jean’s hand. “I know. I should have stood up to them years ago, but I was afraid this would happen. Rightfully so, I guess.”
“It’s hard to fight back when the fighting makes it worse,” Jean agrees, quietly, and Jeremy gives him an assessing look. “But you have us, and the whole team.”
Jeremy feels dangerously close to crying again. “Thank you. Seriously, Jean, I don’t know what I would have done if you all hadn’t come to get me last night.”
“You are my partner,” Jean answers, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, and all Jeremy can do is squeeze his hand in silent thanks.
———
Jeremy somehow makes it through the day. He and Laila stop and buy him a new phone, and he spends his water breaks at practice adding all of the team’s numbers to it. Coach Rhemann pulls him into his office to make sure he’s doing okay, and reassures Jeremy that they’ll ensure nothing gets in the way of him finishing out his final year. Jeremy cries a little more in Rhemann’s office, but nobody mentions it when he joins the rest of the team back on the court, and before he knows it they’re all hitting the showers for the evening.
Jeremy finishes up faster than normal, and is surprised to see Jean waiting on the bench for him. He didn’t even notice him in the showers, too lost in his own thoughts. “No extra practice tonight?”
Jean shakes his head. “It’s been a long day, I think we should all just go home.”
Jeremy wants to protest, but he looks at Jean and notices the dark circles under his eyes, and realizes that of course Jeremy isn’t the only one who’s exhausted today. Guilt curls in his stomach, raw and rancid, but he pushes it down and smiles instead. “Totally. Let’s hit the road.”
In comparison with the drive back to his parents house, the drive to the new apartment is nothing. Laila unlocks the door and Jabberwocky greets them in the threshold, wagging his tail happily and jumping up on Cat’s legs.
“Hello mister!” Cat laughs, reaching down to pet him. “C’mon, I’ll take you out really quick, ‘kay?” She grabs a leash and clips it to his collar, and the two of them head out. Jean heads to the kitchen to get started on dinner and Jeremy and Laila follow him, getting comfy on the bar stools, a familiar and comfortable routine even in an apartment that still doesn’t quite feel like it’s theirs. By the time Cat comes back, Jeremy’s halfway through an article he has to read for class, and he just manages to finish it before Jean sets a plate down in front of him. They all eat in easy silence, still weary from the night before, but relieved to be in each other’s company.
Everyone moves to the living room after dinner is all cleaned up, and Jeremy grabs a book from his backpack as he settles into the couch, trying to make the most of the extra time in his days now that he no longer has a hellish commute.
“Cat and I are gonna take Jabberwocky on a walk,” Laila announces after they’ve all been sitting around for a moment, “he’s been cooped up all day and it’ll tire him out for the evening.”
“Okay,” Jeremy agrees easily, and glances at Jean. He looks confused, but doesn’t argue with Laila. Cat sends Jean a look that Jeremy can’t decipher, and he doesn’t have a chance to ask before she and Laila are gone.
The two of them spend a few minutes working on their respective homework before Jean breaks the silence. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Jeremy blinks at him, his book instantly forgotten in his lap. Jean looks tense, like he’s out of his depth, but he continues before Jeremy’s brain gets back online.
“It’s not that I wished for your family to treat you poorly, but I am much more at ease with you here. We all are, I think.”
“I know. I’m glad to be here too. I’m sorry if I’ve been a little out of it today.”
Jean shakes his head. “Do not apologize. It’s a lot to handle.”
Jeremy nods, closing his book and setting it aside. There’s no way he’s getting work done right now. “I think I’m weirdly all cried out for now; I mostly just feel numb about the whole thing. I mean, they’ve kicked me out for little stuff before.”
“This is different, though,” Jean presses.
“Yeah,” Jeremy agrees, letting that truth hang in the air between them for a moment. “They’ve never taken my phone or car before, so I imagine they really meant it this time. And my mom basically said as much.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance.
Jean frowns at him. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like it’s all fine. You don’t need to pretend in front of me.”
Jeremy laughs in a way that even he can hear is self-deprecating. “If I don’t, I’ll just keep crying, and then I’ll be even more dehydrated.”
There’s a wrinkle between Jean’s eyebrows that Jeremy wants to soothe away with his thumb. “You promised me that you would be honest. If that includes crying, then I’ll deal with it.”
Jeremy’s breath leaves him all at Jean’s reminder, and he knows he can’t argue. He’s begged Jean to let him in since they met, so he has no right to push him away now, even though the vulnerability he feels has his heart pounding against his ribcage. It’s suddenly unbearable to be the subject of Jean’s gaze, and he has to stare down at his lap instead. “You’re right, I did promise. That’s what partners are for, yeah?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood, but he’s much too flustered and it comes out sounding frail.
He feels Jean shift on the couch, moving infinitesimally closer to him. “Jeremy, I did not come get you last night only because we are partners. I came and got you because you are my friend.”
Jeremy glances back up at him despite all the alarm bells in his head telling him not to. Jean’s eyes are blazing as he stares Jeremy down, and Jeremy can’t help the way his next inhale catches in his throat. “I’m not sure I deserve it. All I’ve done over the last 24 hours is just implode my whole life.”
“You did not,” Jean says insistently, “your family is to blame, not you.” Jeremy must look like he’s about to argue, because Jean continues, “You know it’s true, because it’s exactly what you have been telling me for months.”
“What?”
Jean stares at him. “You have told me that I didn’t deserve my treatment at Evermore, or at home. Why would I not deserve it but you would?”
“It’s not the same,” Jeremy says. “If I just did what they wanted, none of this would have happened.”
Jean flinches, unable to stop himself or stifle it so Jeremy doesn’t notice, and Jeremy stops breathing. “I promise you that’s not how it works,” Jean bites out after a torturous moment of silence, his expression hurt and blazing. “Don’t try to tell me obedience was the answer.”
“Wait, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”
“What did you mean, then?”
Jeremy swallows whatever placating answer his instincts try to push forward, knowing that if he’s not sincere with Jean now that he’ll lose every scrap of trust Jean has ever extended to him. He tries to breathe around the co-mingling of grief and righteous anger, to find a piece of himself that he can offer Jean that is real, that he believes in.
“I just… I thought if I was strong enough, I could fix my family. It feels like I’m the wedge that drove everything apart.”
Jean scoots closer on the couch still, so that his knee presses against the meat of Jeremy’s thigh. “You did everything that was asked of you for five years. They would have found another reason if it was not your lawyer test.”
“I know,” Jeremy breathes, turning a watery smile on Jean. “I know. And you’re right; neither of us deserved to be treated the ways we were. I’m sorry for being so thoughtless.” He grins a little more genuinely and adds “Désolé,” just to watch Jean’s eyes widen. He gets distracted then, by the way Jean looks at him, and marvels at the opportunity to look back at Jean, to study the depth of color in his eyes, the small freckle under his right eye, the faint scar that just barely touches his upper lip. Jeremy is going to say something, but then he watches Jean’s eyes glance down at his mouth, and his brain goes utterly blank, any and all thoughts immediately skidding to a stop.
Jeremy stares at him so long that Jean tilts his head, considering, and he opens his mouth to say something at the same time they hear keys unlocking the front door. Jean leans back from him, giving him space on the couch again as Jab and the girls make their way back inside.
In no time at all the four of them and the dog end up curled up on the couch, a movie on the TV, but all Jeremy can think about is Jean looking at his mouth.
———
Despite his better judgement, Jeremy and Jean keep sharing Jean’s bed. It’s mostly practical—they don’t have a ton of excess cash to buy a new bed for Jeremy, and sleeping on the couch isn’t a good long-term solution, but selfishly he can admit that he quickly grows accustomed to having Jean close. Even though he knows he’s dangerously close to crossing a line, Jeremy can’t bring himself to leave.
It’s been a few days of Jeremy settling into his new routine, his new life, and for the most part it’s been okay, but his anger and hurt still catch him off-guard sometimes, pulling him back down and leaving tears prickling at his eyes despite how hard he tries to redirect his thoughts. Tonight Jean and Jabberwocky are both already asleep, and their gentle breathing isn’t enough to distract Jeremy.
He’s pretty sure he’s crying quietly enough not to wake Jean, so when Jean makes a strangled noise and then jerks awake, it startles Jeremy into glancing in his direction.
Jean doesn’t look at him because Jab is in his face, licking Jean’s forehead. “Stop, Jab,” Jean grumbles in French, and Jeremy uses the distraction to wipe his face as discreetly as he can, taking a steadying breath.
“You okay?” He asks after a moment, rolling on his side to face Jean. The window is to his back, so he hopes any signs of distress are hidden enough that Jean can’t press him about it.
Jean nudges Jab towards the foot of the bed so he can look in Jeremy’s direction. “Yes, sorry. Waking up is enough; knowing I’m here instead of anywhere else.”
Jeremy suddenly understands why Jean never fully closes the curtains to go to sleep; enough light from the street shines into the room that there’s no way he could mistake it for Evermore, for Marseille. Jeremy’s heart clenches in his chest, and he’s somehow still surprised by the weight of his adoration.
“Why are you awake?” Jean asks, and Jeremy watches the way the streetlamps reflect in his eyes, mesmerized by the glow and by how soft it makes Jean look.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jeremy answers, but he knows Jean is going to press him for more, so he adds “I just couldn’t get my brain to turn off.”
Jean hums, a low rumble in his chest, and Jeremy’s glad for the darkness, otherwise he’s sure Jean would notice his blush.
“Are you okay?” Jean says, pulling Jeremy out of his thoughts.
“I am now,” and it’s not even really a lie. Something about Jean’s presence is so soothing that Jeremy feels at peace, and he only feels a little guilty that it took a nightmare to get them both to this moment.
Jean stares at him, a confused furrow in his brow, and then reaches his hand out to brush against Jeremy’s cheek. As soon as he does, Jeremy knows Jean has figured it out, because he feels the tears on his cheek against Jean’s warm hand. Jeremy closes his eyes, sighing into Jean’s touch while he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You could have woken me up if you needed to,” Jean says, his voice so quiet that if Jeremy were any farther away, he would have missed it.
“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jeremy admits.
“It would not bother me.” Jean continues to stare at him, and Jeremy wonders if Jean can’t see his face after all—Jean’s eyes are piercing, sharp as steel, despite the fact that he was asleep a minute ago. “May I ask you something?”
Jeremy nods, and Jean scoots a little closer, his hand still on Jeremy’s cheek. “Would you come here, please?”
Jeremy flushes hard, his heartbeat picking up so quickly he wonders if Jean can hear it. He shuffles towards Jean though, as if caught by a magnet, unable to resist the pull. He has one delirious moment to wonder if Jean is about to kiss him, but instead Jean moves to wrap his arm around Jeremy’s waist and pull him in so they’re pressed against one another, Jeremy’s head tucked under Jean’s chin. Jeremy can hear Jean’s heartbeat where his ear is pressed to his chest, and something about how it’s frantic like his own calms him.
“Is this alright?” Jean asks, and Jeremy nods, his cheek brushing the t-shirt Jean sleeps in. Now that he has permission, Jeremy clings to him, one arm snaking around Jean’s waist while his other hand presses flat against Jean’s sternum.
“Yeah,” Jeremy exhales, and he wants to say more, wants to ensure that Jean understands the depth of his feelings, his gratefulness, his trust, but any words he tries to speak die in his throat. Instead, he just curls in closer, and lets Jean hold him like he’s something that deserves to be protected.
Jeremy’s halfway asleep when Jean presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head, and mutters something so quietly that even Jeremy can’t hear it. He thinks of asking, but slips into sleep before he can say a word.
When Jeremy’s alarm goes off the next morning, he fumbles for it on his nightstand and manages to shut it off, even as Jean’s arms tighten around his waist to hold him closer.
“We gotta get up for practice,” Jeremy whispers, and Jean groans, grumbling out something unintelligible but clearly displeased. It takes him a few seconds to truly wake, and Jeremy notices when he does because he stills, then carefully extracts one arm from where it had been flung over Jeremy.
Jeremy, despite maybe getting the best sleep of his life in Jean’s arms, knows that it might be too much. He’s sure he’s blushing still from the sensation of Jean’s strong arms locked around his waist, but he just rolls out of bed, stretching a little and brushing his fingers against Jab’s forehead in greeting before grabbing his clothes to get dressed. Behind him, he hears Jean get out of bed too, and they don’t talk about it.
By the time they join the girls in the kitchen for breakfast, Jeremy thinks his cheeks may only be a little pink, and if anyone else notices, they have the decency to not mention it.
———
The Trojans win their next away game. It’s not a close game by any means, and Jeremy is filled with pride at how easy the win felt. Jean especially shone tonight—his coordination with Cat and Jeremy on the court has exponentially grown even in a few months, and they worked like a well-oiled machine to deliver their team another victory.
The game is far enough away that they flew here, which means they have hotels overnight to sleep for a few hours before their early flight back to LA. Jeremy sighs with relief as he opens the door to their room, collapsing on the closest bed as he hears Jean lock up for the night behind them. He thinks he could probably fall asleep just like this, shoes still on as his feet hang off the bed, face-planted into the comforter, but he knows he should really get up and change. It’s a challenge, but eventually he rolls onto his side and then pushes himself up to sit, and catches Jean sitting on his own bed, staring at Jeremy.
“Did you have fun tonight?” Jeremy asks, knowing it’s a loaded question but asking it anyway.
Jean considers it. “I like playing on the same line as you and Cat. The game itself was inconsequential as ever.”
Jeremy grins. “Any enjoyment is progress in my book.”
Jean rolls his eyes, standing and digging through his bag to grab his pajamas. Jeremy just watches him—the smooth roll of muscle in his back as Jean pulls off his shirt is mesmerizing—and he doesn’t even care if Jean notices.
Jean only looks at him again once he’s fully changed. “Are you sleeping in that?” He asks, judgemental as ever, and it makes Jeremy laugh.
“No, sorry.” He grabs his bag off the floor and digs for his own pajamas, changing quickly and purposefully not looking over his shoulder, even though he can practically feel the weight of Jean’s eyes on him. When he tosses his post-game clothes in the direction of his bag, he finally turns to look at Jean, who’s frozen in the same spot he was a minute ago. Usually Jean flinches back when he notices he’s been caught, but today he just holds Jeremy’s gaze, sizing him up; waiting for a reaction, maybe.
“What’s up?” Jeremy asks in French, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.
Jean stares at him for another long moment, his expression inscrutable but not upset, Jeremy thinks. He watches as Jean finally moves, and instead of getting into his own bed, he sits next to Jeremy, their knees pressed together gently.
“Your accent is getting better,” Jean replies, slow enough that Jeremy can keep up, and Jeremy beams at him.
“Merci!” He says, a laugh mixed together with the word. He doesn’t know enough to keep rambling in French, so he switches back to English to say “I’m trying to cram in as much vocab as I can right now, so I’m glad the accent is improving too.”
Jean just stares at him some more, and Jeremy finally notices the pink splattered across Jean’s cheekbones, a hint of a flush that makes him look all the more alive. He suddenly feels a shift in the air between them, having gone from lighthearted to heady in a moment’s notice. He wants so badly to reach for Jean, to tangle his fingers in his hair and kiss him until they’re both gasping, and the daydream of it all distracts him so badly that he blinks in surprise when he hears Jean’s voice.
“Jeremy.” Jean is looking down at him, and it’s only due to their proximity that Jeremy notices when Jean’s eyes flick down at his mouth. “May I try something?”
Surely Jeremy is dreaming. Either he’s dreaming or he died and went to heaven, because there’s no other explanation for the way Jean is looking at him. Maybe Jean is a mind-reader and heard Jeremy’s entire mental spiral about wanting to kiss him, which seems unlikely, but this situation seems equally unreal. Still, there’s no world where Jeremy would ever deny Jean of anything, so he nods.
Jean’s hand lifts from his lap to hold Jeremy’s face, and he must be nervous because his fingers have a slight tremor before they settle against his skin. Jeremy leans into his touch, and a content sigh escapes him before he can bother to try and stop it.
That little sound breaks whatever trance they both were caught in, and something in Jean’s expression clears as he leans down and kisses Jeremy.
Jeremy gasps into it, a surprised little intake of breath through his nose, but he doesn’t let Jean pull away—he wraps his fingers loosely around Jean’s wrist to hold his hand in place and kisses him back, relaxing into his touch. It’s not a hesitant kiss but it is a relatively chaste one, slow despite the racing of Jeremy’s pulse, and Jeremy feels like he’s on fire, simultaneously burning from within and from each spot where he and Jean are touching. He’s not sure if he can remember being kissed this tenderly before; all his recent experience has been brutal and lustful and a means to an end, never a kiss just for the sake of kissing, and the careful attention Jean pays him is unavoidable and entirely devastating. Jean holds him like he’s made of spun glass, so delicate that one wrong move would shatter the entire scene, like he wants to keep Jeremy safe and whole and protected, and it completely unravels Jeremy in the process.
Jean pulls back after a few minutes, and Jeremy follows him to give him one more kiss before he lets Jean lean away, opening his eyes to watch him.
Jean is always beautiful, but the way he looks now, completely flushed and pupils blown wide, his lips a little pinker than normal, completely takes Jeremy’s breath away. “Was that… okay?”
Jeremy giggles, delighted and lightheaded. “Oh my god, yes, Jean. It was perfect.”
Jean nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a small and hesitant smile. “Okay. Good. Sorry if I surprised you.”
“Don’t apologize.” He leans in just enough to kiss Jean’s cheek, and delights in the way it makes him blush harder. “I liked it. I’d happily do it again, whenever you wanted.”
“A blank check is a dangerous thing to offer,” Jean teases, and it makes Jeremy feel like his chest could explode.
He ducks his head down, pressing his forehead against Jean’s collarbone, a breathy laugh escaping him. “You’re ridiculous. I, like, actually don’t deserve you.”
Jean makes a small sound of disbelief, and tilts Jeremy’s head up so they’re looking at one another again. “You do. You deserve good things.” He pauses, perhaps not sure if he himself can be categorized as a ‘good thing’, but continues on. “Besides, what do you want, Jeremy?”
Jeremy swallows around the lump forming in his throat, taken aback by Jean’s honesty, by his belief in Jeremy. “I want to be with you,” Jeremy answers honestly, because he can’t not say it, not when Jean is still holding him with an expression Jeremy can only describe as awestruck.
Jean nods, his expression softening slightly. “I want that too.”
They just stare at one another for a moment, and this time Jeremy is the first to lean in, and the kiss feels like a promise.
———
Two weeks later, when Jeremy answers the knocking at the door of the loft, he nearly collapses in surprise to see William standing there.
“William,” he breathes, hearing the confusion in his voice even over the pounding of blood in his ears. It’s enough to get everyone else’s attention—Jeremy hears Jean, Laila, and Cat get up from the living room and join him at the door, a wall of reassurance at his back.
“Good evening, Jeremy,” William says, formal as ever, but there’s a hint of his real smile on his face, and a hint of melancholy as well. “May I come in for a moment?”
Jeremy steps back to admit him, accidentally bumping into Jean, who was standing much closer than Jeremy realized. Jean’s arm wraps instinctively around Jeremy’s waist to steady him, and he holds him for a second longer than strictly necessary before letting go. Jean’s hand drags against Jeremy’s hip as he pulls back, as if he’s loath to leave him untethered with William here, but Jeremy simply motions everyone to stand around the island in the kitchen.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks, trying to stave off the panic rising in his chest.
William glances amongst the four of them before getting right to the point. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilshire have offered to bring you back into the fold, under the condition that you attend LSAT tutoring sessions three times a week and retake the exam in two months.” From his briefcase, he pulls out some papers, scattering them on the countertop. “This is the proposed schedule.”
Jeremy forgets to breathe for a moment. Despite the brutality of their rejection, a part of him soars at the possibility of making amends, but as he looks at the paperwork, he already knows it’s no use. The pit of dread in his stomach that has been absent for weeks returns with a vengeance, as if it never left, and it’s so crushing that he actually feels nauseous. Having a taste of freedom, a life he can live at his own discretion, and dreams he can chase, he doesn’t know how he lived so long without this. He’s felt more alive in the past three weeks than he’s felt in years. He feels Jean’s palm settle against the small of his back, and he leans into the touch, letting it anchor him.
“I can’t,” He says, a sad smile on his face. “They don’t actually care about me, just what I make them look like. I can’t live like that anymore.”
William nods, immediately starting to gather the paperwork back up, and Jeremy notices that he relaxes a little as well. “I hoped you’d say as much. Will you be alright to cover whatever remains of your tuition after your athletic scholarship?”
Jeremy nods, “Yeah, Coach said we’d figure something out. I might have to stop him from paying it out of his own pocket, but if I go pro, I guess I could pay him back pretty quick; it’s not really that much after my scholarship, anyway.”
“Hell yeah,” Cat agrees, throwing a delighted punch at Jeremy’s shoulder and breaking the tension that had settled over the room with ease. “Cocky, I like it.”
Jeremy laughs. “I’m glad to see you one last time, William.”
“As am I. I have one final parting gift,” he says, and pulls an envelope out of his briefcase. He hands it to Jeremy, letting him open it, and Jeremy gasps quietly to see his social security card, passport, and birth certificate inside.
“She let you give me these?”
William’s smile turns into an almost-smirk. “No, but I’m the one who deals with the safe deposit box anyway, so I thought you deserved to have them.”
Jeremy thinks he might cry again, but he smiles through it. “I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”
William steps forward to place a reassuring hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “It’s my pleasure. You deserve to live the life you want, Jeremy. Now you get to chase it with abandon.”
“I’m going to,” Jeremy promises, and for the first time, really believes it.