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Who Won’t Ever Try Hard Enough
It became clear within twenty-four hours that Kevin had been literal when he said Jean would submit. At first, Jeremy had thought Kevin was just outing Jean’s designation with typical Day tact. Now he’s worried that Jean’s submission is such a fact of life for them that it didn’t occur to either ex-Raven that it could be private. There were little hints throughout the day, times when Jean had caved to Jeremy’s suggestions a little quicker than most would.
The only time that Jean had responded with a firm negative had been in the car after Jeremy asked about French and touched his shoulder. Even then, Jeremy isn’t sure how much of that was an actual response and how much was reflexive. The sentiment had been real enough, but his answer had seemed torn from him even before he reacted to the unexpected touch. Afterward, he had spent the rest of the ride in a truly impressive contortion that compressed the broad backliner into the corner of his seat.
Jeremy hadn’t been sure how to breach the silence that had followed and so he hadn’t.
The tour of the house had started out similarly rocky, with Jean antagonistic and yet ultimately pliable. He’d put up a protest over living so far from the stadium and folded almost in the next breath. Every attempt to learn anything personal had been met with scowls and blunt statements that bordered on rude, but there hadn’t been any real conviction. Cat or Laila might not have been able to pull more from him but Jeremy had the uncomfortable feeling that Jean would have folded immediately if he’d pushed.
In hindsight, learning about the meal plan should have been the final nail in the coffin. If even the doms were expected to adhere to such control, there was little chance that submissives were granted any autonomy. Still, Jeremy chooses to be an eternal optimist and so it’s not until Jean kneels at his feet, when they’re settling in to watch TV, the next evening that the truth hits.
Jeremy doesn’t let his emotions show, doesn’t want to accidentally send Jean into a drop because he was careless. He does shoot Cat and Layla a quick glance. He’s not sure if he’s seeking reassurance or advice but, whatever it is, he needs it desperately. “Hey, Jean. What’re’y doing?”
Jean blinks at him twice, and then ducks his head in the next breath. He presses his forehead to Jeremy’s knee before pressing a kiss to his inseam. It doesn’t feel affectionate or like a sexual overture. It bleeds desperate obeisance. “Waiting for orders.”
Pulse picking up, Jeremy rests one hand on the top of Jean’s head. It’s not hard for his thoughts to take off racing without him—not after the day’s earlier revelations. “Sure. Do you need to go down?”
Jean’s nose scrunches and his lips pull back just enough to show off a flash of his teeth.
Quickly, before Jean can either withdraw or spit out a scathing retort, Jeremy rephrases. “How often do you usually go down?”
“As often as Ri—” this question seems more acceptable, though Jean still lifts his fingers to his mouth after the false start, “Whenever it was required.”
“I’m gonna need a little more than that to work with.” Dredging up every ounce of Trojan self-control, Jeremy gently pets through Jean’s hair. The touch isn’t hesitant but he keeps it light enough to make it clear that he’ll stop if Jean doesn’t like it. “Put a number on it for me, how many times in a month?”
“A month? I cannot say.” Jean’s gaze flicks down and to the side, his lips thinning out as they pull down at the corners. “Often once daily, sometimes more.”
When Jeremy got clean, he promised himself that he’d clean up his mouth too. If he was going to be on the good sportsmanship team, then he was going to throw himself into maintaining the image without reservation. All the same, there’s a handful of choice words he’d really love to say.
“Our days or Raven?” Cat asks.
The words aren’t harsh but Jean flinches anyway. He’s starting to withdraw inwards, clearly sensing that something is wrong though it doesn’t seem that he knows what. “Raven.”
Jeremy swallows the saliva pooling beneath his tongue, trying to stave off the nausea. If Jean is used to going down that often, Jeremy is going to have to scene with him. Eventually, they’ll be able to wean him down but in the midst of a stressful move, while his body is healing from severe injuries, is far from the right time. Sceneing isn’t a great idea either though. If there’s one thing that’s become clear over the last forty-eight hours, it’s that Jean is a walking minefield of triggers. They might not even be compatible.
Neither option is great.
Laila meets his gaze before gently nudging Cat toward their bedroom. They don’t say anything to announce their departure but Jean must be listening for their footsteps because his shoulders drop ever so slightly from his ears. His fingers clench and relax in his lap but that’s his only fidget for now. He doesn’t speak, seemingly… content isn’t the right word but it’s clear that he isn’t going to push Jeremy for any sort of clear direction.
“I don’t mind taking you down but…” Jeremy hesitates. “Is there anyone else you’d rather? I know you don’t really know people here yet but—“
“You are my partner.” Jean’s response is immediate and biting, but not automatic.
Jeremy decides that’s going to have to be good enough. “Right… is there anything that works best? Anything you don’t want?”
Panic, sudden and sharp, flashes across Jean’s expression before he shifts to hide his face against Jeremy’s thigh. After another breath, he tips his head to the side so his cheek is pressed to Jeremy's skin and his face is presented clearly to Jeremy. His eyes are fixed just short of meeting Jeremy’s gaze. “I want whatever you wish to give.”
“Now I know that’s not true.” Jeremy strokes the hair back from Jean’s forehead. He taps his thumb lightly against Jean’s unmarked cheek. “Everyone has preferences. Two things you want and two you don’t or we can’t go forward.”
Jean’s jaw tenses but in this, like everything else, he gives way without argument. The tendons in his neck stand out from the effort of keeping his position. “No teeth.” Swallowing hard, Jean loses the fight to keep his gaze on Jeremy. It turns distant and unfocused at the far corner of the room. “No water.”
“Easy enough.” Jeremy offers Jean a smile that he doesn’t feel. He strokes his fingers through Jean’s hair again, careful not to tug. He keeps his words encouraging but firm. “Now two things you want.”
“This.” Jean‘s fingers dig in at his own collarbone before he moves them to press his palm flat against his thigh.
“Playing with your hair?” Jeremy clarifies. When he gets a short nod, Jeremy’s smile brightens and he strokes Jean’s hair once more. “Good boy. One more.”
Jean shudders at the words, eyes briefly going half-lidded. Then his brow draws together and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, nostrils flaring with clear frustration. “Don’t… don’t make me talk.”
“Okay.” It’s not strictly a want but it is a preference so Jeremy will let it slide. He pauses to consider the difficulties that will bring up. “How do you usually safe word out?”
The blank look Jean turns on him has Jeremy’s chest spasming.
Jeremy takes in a slow breath, because that is something to bring up later, and carefully pets through Jean’s hair. “Okay. I need you to have some way to tell me if you want to stop but you don’t have to talk.”
Jean’s prominent nose wrinkles and it’s incredibly adorable and very distracting. Dismissal of the idea wars with the desire to obey across his face. He nods, cheek rubbing against Jeremy’s knee. “I… can?” He tugs lightly at the hem of Jeremy’s shorts in demonstration.
It’s not ideal, but Jeremy doesn’t plan on doing anything intense. They don’t know each other well enough for anything more than kneeling and some praise. He has more questions but the longer this goes on, the tenser he can feel Jean get. “Okay. That’ll work. Stand up a second then.”
Jean’s response is immediate, though hesitant. He stands awkwardly by Jeremy’s side, brows drawn together as he watches Jeremy drop a pillow by his feet. Looking from between the pillow to Jeremy, Jean tilts his head.
“Your knee is still healing.” Jeremy explains, reaching up to tug on Jean’s arm to have him sit once more. “Here, don’t kneel, just sit.”
Jean makes a dissatisfied noise but doesn’t protest as Jeremy guides his head back to Jeremy’s thigh. His gaze settles on Jeremy’s collarbone as he breathes out a soft sigh.
He doesn’t seem in pain but Jeremy checks in anyway. “Nothing hurts?”
Blue eyes, so pale that they’re gray, narrow in a dirty look that Jeremy has fully earned with that question. Slowly, watching Jeremy with too sharp intent, Jean shakes his head. He’s wary but he seems to be telling the truth so Jeremy isn’t too concerned. Hopefully Jean will relax enough to go down. If not, Jeremy doesn’t want to be guiding a sub that distrusts him that badly. They’ll figure something else out. Maybe Cat or Laila can try.
“Good. Thank you.” Jeremy pets Jean’s hair again. Life really isn’t fair. He has a handsome sub sitting at his knee and said sub is so far off limits that it’s not funny. “You’re going to sit and let me pet your hair. I’m going to watch something and feed you popcorn. You’re going to eat and drink what I give you. Yes?”
The wary look fades just a shade into confusion. Jean nods though and settles, shoulders pulling back and palms resting on his thighs. Whoever his dom was before, and Jeremy has a few guesses, clearly had exacting standards. Even in an unconventional position, Jean maintains perfect posture.
Jeremy watches him carefully for a few breaths, making sure that he really isn’t in pain and just pushing through. Once he’s satisfied, Jeremy plucks up the remote and leans back to scroll through the channels. He picks a reality show at random—one about teaching people how to dress. He just needs background noise; something to ostensibly ignore Jean for.
The longer Jeremy goes without looking at Jean, the more the sub relaxes. From the corner of his eye, Jeremy can see Jean’s breathing slow and his gaze go soft. When he goes back to petting Jean’s hair, the sub tenses briefly but then sinks into the touch.
It's alarming how easily Jean goes under actually. For how tense he was, Jeremy had been expecting more of a fight. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers all of the implications and then deliberately decides not to. One scene, an unplanned-for scene at that, doesn’t give Jeremy the right to psychoanalyze his newest teammate.
Breaking from his train of thought, Jeremy stretches to scoop up a few kernels of popcorn from the bowl, using the hand on Jean’s head to press him a little firmer into Jeremy’s thigh. His tank drapes over Jean’s face, just the sub’s nose pressing into Jeremy’s stomach. It’s a move he’s perfected, absent and casual; like his sub is just an afterthought even as Jeremy reminds them of their place. When he leans back, Jean’s weight is a little heavier against him with his limbs hanging loose rather than clenched close to his sides.
Jeremy chews through a few handfuls, leaning forward and back at an unpredictable pace, before he offers a kernel to Jean’s lips. There’s a brief delay, subspace sluggishness and not defiance, and then Jean delicately takes the offering between his teeth.
“Good boy.” Jeremy hums without looking over. Under different circumstances he would love to smother Jean with his attention but he can feel the burn of anticipatory focus the sub has turned on him. Sometimes a dom’s attention can be just as bad as not having it and Jeremy is certain that’s the case now. So instead of pressing a kiss to the top of Jean’s head, he merely brushes his thumb over the sub’s unmarked cheek.
Then he pulls his free hand back to absently pick at the popcorn himself.
They make it through a few episodes, Jeremy feeding Jean more popcorn and coaxing him to take small sips of soda. He’d grabbed it for himself earlier but he doesn’t mind donating to the cause. Jean had brought in water for himself but given that it’s off limits now, Jeremy drinks it instead.
Glancing at his watch, Jeremy turns his full attention to Jean so he can cup the sub’s face in both hands. “Ready for bed?”
Jean stares up at him, brow furrowed. Slowly, he nods—though he looks equally ready to shake his head if he thinks that’s what Jeremy might prefer. That’s alright, Jeremy can make decisions for a while longer.
“Alright. Stand up for me.” Jeremy releases Jean’s face and gently nudges him up.
It takes Jean a few false starts. His long limbs lack their usual grace as they unfold. When he finally gets his footing, he still half sways.
Jeremy stands, reaching up to slide one hand across Jean’s back to rest lightly on the back of his neck. “Any pins and needles?”
Unlike the immediate and scathing responses about his injuries when he’s up, Jean takes the time to flex each limb with consideration. When he’s done, Jean shakes his head.
“Great.” Jeremy flashes him a bright smile and gently pushes Jean toward his bedroom. “Let’s get you washed up and ready for bed.”
Jean hums softly, though Jeremy hadn’t expected even that much of a response. Then he moves to the bathroom with swaying steps. He hesitates once across the threshold, looking over his shoulder at Jeremy for further instructions.
“Pop a squat on the commode.” Waving a vague gesture in the toilet’s direction, Jeremy turns to prep Jean’s toothbrush for him. Once he’s deposited the paste and run the brush under the water, he passes the utensil to Jean. “Brush your teeth.”
It’s a necessary chore but it also serves to help bring Jean up with a combination of fine motor skills and the taste of mint. It takes Jean longer than might be reasonable under other circumstances but Jeremy is content to wait him out. He helps brace Jean so the other can spit and rinse. Their height difference is stark with him tucked up beneath Jean’s arm as he washes Jean’s face with careful swipes of the cloth. “There we go. You want to change out?”
Jean blinks at Jeremy with a grunt and a half dazed expression. Regardless of what that was actually supposed to mean, given that Jean’s clothes are in his closet, the end result is the same.
Jeremy helps Jean shuffle into the bedroom and sits him on the edge of the queen bed. “Do you have pajamas or—”
“No.” Jean flicks one hand dismissively, more focused than he was moments ago. His accent is thicker than it was before the scene. “This is fine.”
“Okay.” Jeremy crouches in front of Jean, peering up at the sub. “Do you mind if I wait in here for a bit just to make sure you come up okay?”
A complex emotion flickers across Jean, full body. Jeremy doesn’t bother to try deciphering it, waiting patiently until he gets a nod of acquiescence. After another pause, Jean frowns. “You will, what? Sit there and watch?”
“Up to you. The scene is over, what sort of aftercare do you like?”
“Aftercare.” It’s not a question but it’s not quite a statement either.
Jeremy rests his chin on one knee, smiling because he isn’t sure what else to do. “Yeah. What do you usually do after a scene to get your feet back underneath you?”
“I do not think it is applicable here.” This time the quirk of Jean’s lips is a dark emotion but there’s amusement too. After a moment of staring intently at Jeremy, he tilts his head. “Are you dropping?”
“Am I, uhh…” At Jean’s prompting, Jeremy finally catches the faint buzz of warning running up his arms just beneath the skin. “Maybe a little I guess. It’s not your fault.”
“I did not ask if it was my fault.” Jean waves the reassurance aside with all the attention one would give a gnat. “What do you need to prevent it?”
“It’s not really—“
“I do not enjoy putting doms back together after they spiral. What do you need?”
Jeremy swallows hard against the questions that bubble up at that statement. “I like to hold my sub but I know that’s a lot to ask from you, especially after such a simple scene.”
Jean mutters something under his breath that sounds derogatory and perhaps French. With a heavy sigh he shuffles backward onto the bed and gestures for Jeremy to join him. When Jeremy doesn’t obey, he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “You are a foolish man.”
Why did no one warn Jeremy that scathing French judgement was so hot?
He shuffles up onto the bed out of sheer self preservation, afraid of his body’s reactions should he get another scolding. It’s awkward as he presses closer, but Jean gets them settled, Jeremy playing big spoon, with brisk efficiency.
“This will suffice?”
“Uh. Yeah. This is great.” And it is. Like this, Jeremy can feel Jean’s chest rise with each slow breath beneath his arms; can feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat beneath Jeremy’s palm. It’s typical dominant arrogance to think that he’s the reason Jean is so relaxed but it’s not like Jean needs to know that’s how Jeremy feels. “It’s not weird for you?”
“We are partners.” Jean shrugs, already halfway to sleep. “How long will you desire this?”
Until the morning is his real answer, but Jeremy tucks his face against Jean’s pillow and absently strokes his thumb over Jean’s ribs. “I have to leave in an hour to head home.”
“Very well.” Jean considers this and then grunts, pressing back lightly against Jeremy. “You are a strange dominant.”
Jeremy knows very little about the sort of doms Jean knows, honestly he doesn’t even know who Jean’s primary dom was before the transfer, but even so he can’t help but feel like that’s a compliment.