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The apartment is eerily quiet when Jean gets back from his walk with Jabberwocky. Sighing, Jean drops the leash, and the dog goes straight to his bowl of water. The girls are out on a date, Cat’s will be late xoxo <3 sitting in his inbox. Jean doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s somewhat attached to the messages he’s gotten from the people he cares about. He opens his bedroom door and thinks about his and Renee’s exchanges, stupid jokes Cody sends him sometimes that make him roll his eyes, updates from Cat and Laila, and every single text Jeremy’s sent him since the start of their relationship. Well, they haven’t exactly called it that yet, but Jean’s pretty sure they’re thinking the same thing anyway. It’s been a little more than a month since their first kiss, and Jean thinks he’ll never get tired of all the kisses they’ve shared after that, as well as the hugs, the handholding, featherlight touches and simply existing in each other’s space.
Jean thinks about beautiful Jeremy with sun-kissed skin and bleach-blond hair and eyes his favorite color, the man Jean’s fallen so hard for. Jeremy, the brightest thing he’s ever looked at; Jeremy, who hasn’t been in the apartment for three days; Jeremy, who missed practice and has answered Jean’s calls with a single text, Jean’s eyes skimming over I’m fine, don’t worry, I’ll see you later :) before gripping the phone so tight he almost shattered it; Jeremy, who Jean’s worried about so much he wants to throw up.
Jeremy, who’s lying in Jean’s bed, facing the wall, quiet sobs falling from his lips, his shoulders shaking.
Jean’s jacket falls from his hands. He rushes over, dread filling his stomach. The cries stop; Jeremy has realized he’s not alone anymore, and when Jean puts a careful hand on his shoulder, he curls up even tighter.
“Jeremy, what’s wrong? What happened?” But Jeremy just shakes his head, refusing to turn over.
Jean takes off his shoes. It’s okay if Jeremy doesn’t want to talk right now; Jean will try his best to comfort him with his touch. He lies down on the bed and wraps an arm around Jeremy’s waist.
“Is this okay?” Jean whispers, and after Jeremy’s nod, pulls him closer to his chest, burying his face in the back of his neck. He presses a tiny kiss there before closing his eyes.
When Jean opens them again, it’s getting dark, and Jeremy has turned over, his breath hitting Jean’s face. He looks peaceful, serene. Beautiful. Jean tucks a stray hair over his ear, and Jeremy furrows his eyebrows, slowly blinking his eyes open. The deep brown seems overwhelmingly sad, and Jean’s breath stutters in his lungs.
“Hey,” Jean whispers. Jeremy’s quiet; he’s quiet for far too long, and when he closes his eyes, breathing deep and slow, Jean has the horrifying realization that he’s trying not to cry. Jeremy fails, though; a tear slips free as soon as he opens his eyes again, and Jean swipes his thumb on his cheek to catch it. He’s never seen Jeremy cry before, and his heart drums painfully in his chest.
More tears start to fall. Jeremy shakes his head, mumbling I’m sorry before trying to turn over to hide his face again, but Jean pulls him impossibly closer. He shushes him, kissing his forehead. He can feel Jeremy’s body shaking. They stay like that for a while, Jeremy silently crying into Jean’s neck while Jean cards his fingers through his hair and kisses the top of his head. Finally, when Jeremy looks up and into Jean’s eyes again, Jean’s heart breaks. The expression on Jeremy’s face looks completely wrong; it doesn’t belong on a face born for smiling.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jean asks.
Jeremy lets out a long breath. “I hate it.”
“Hate what?”
“Crying. I hardly ever do it. Especially in front of other people.”
Jean brings a hand to wipe the tear tracks on Jeremy’s cheek. He understands the sentiment—crying in the Nest was forbidden, and whoever got caught would be punished. Jean usually used his pillow to muffle his sobs, praying no one would hear him. He shakes his head to stop the memories from overflowing, focusing all of his attention on the boy in front of him.
“I had a fight with Mom,” Jeremy swallows. “About law school. And it was Noah’s birthday yesterday. And Joshua texted me. And Bryson was home. It got too much. I couldn’t come to practice after… everything. I’ll have to talk to Coach later. I’m sorry for avoiding your calls, I just couldn’t…”
Jeremy’s voice breaks, more tears slipping from his eyes. Jean quietly catches them, and wonders if Jeremy would be opposed to him breaking into the Wilshire household to strangle Mathilda.
“Why are you with me, Jean?” Jeremy says after somewhat regulating his breathing, and the question is so sudden Jean feels as if someone slapped him across the face.
“What do you see?” Jeremy continues, and there’s a desperate undertone to his voice. “You can’t see what I see. You can’t see me the way I see myself. I’m a failure. I have failed my brother. I have failed my mother. I have failed everyone. I’m rotten, do you understand? I’m—“
“Stop it,” Jean hisses. He can’t take it—he can’t take the best person he’s ever known talking about himself like this.
Jean takes Jeremy’s face in between his hands, squeezing his cheeks. “You want to know what I see, yes?”
Jeremy looks taken aback, as if Jean wasn’t supposed be listening at all, but he nods anyway.
Jean touches his nose to Jeremy’s. “I see someone kind,” he says. “I see someone good, someone who’s always trying to be better,” he presses a kiss to Jeremy’s cheek. “I see someone talented and hardworking,” he presses another kiss to the skin under Jeremy’s eye, tasting salt. “I see someone warm who came from a very cold place. Someone who’s brave, and strong,” Jean kisses Jeremy’s forehead, and looks into his eyes.
“You’re not rotten. You could never be. You’re the best person I know,” Jean says, and Jeremy lets out a shaky breath. Jean feels raw; being vulnerable and trying to comfort someone is hard, seeing Jeremy hurt is even harder, and Jean wishes he could steal him all for himself, just so he never has to see his family ever again.
“How can I be good?” Jeremy’s voice is small. “I can’t even make my mother happy, Jean. I can’t do what she asks me to.”
“She’s asking you to throw your life away,” Jean says, and Jeremy’s breath catches in his throat. “Do you want to be a lawyer? Do you want to give up exy? Do you want to throw your life away?”
Jeremy stays silent until Jean raises his eyebrows, prompting him to answer the question. “No,” Jeremy whispers. “No, I don’t. I don’t want to give up exy, and I don’t want to be a lawyer.”
“Do you want your mother to forgive you?”
Jeremy hesitates. Then he nods.
“Good. She never will.”
Jeremy doesn’t have the time to hide his flinch. He stares at Jean, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. He tries to speak, but no sound comes out.
Jean doesn’t understand families very well—the very little time he spent with his own made him never want to see them again, but he might know a thing or two about being hated for who you are. He tried to be good in the Nest. He tried to hold his head down, and be quiet, Jean, and shut up, Jean, and get up, you filthy bitch, don’t you ever speak to me like that. At first he thought Riko might stop someday, might forgive him for the crime of being born, but no matter what he did, he would get punished, simply for breathing.
A truth: Jean didn’t do anything to deserve what he went through. This is something he still has a hard time with sometimes, but he’s trying.
Two truths: Riko would never forgive him. Mathilda will never forgive Jeremy.
Jean knows it clear as day. Jeremy has to accept that even if he does exactly what his mother’s asking for, she’ll just keep asking for more. Jeremy’s locked in a cage, but he’s holding the keys in the palm of his hand.
Jean strokes Jeremy’s hair. They’re quiet for a while. Then, “you’re right,” Jeremy says, sniffling. “She’ll never forgive me. But she’s my mother, Jean. How’s anyone else supposed to love me when my own mother doesn’t?”
“Well, I do,” Jean blurts out, and immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Jeremy’s eyes are impossibly wide and impossibly brown; Jean could get lost in them. It’s too late to take the words back, and Jean finds he doesn’t want to. He cups Jeremy’s cheek.
“I love you,” he whispers, and feels his entire face set on fire. He has the urge to hide, to run, to never show his face again, but instead Jean looks into Jeremy’s eyes, and lets Jeremy see the emotion in his. He needs Jeremy to know he’s an absolute fool for him.
“You… love me,” Jeremy says, disbelief coloring his voice. “You love me?”
Jean nods. How could he not?
Jeremy’s eyes fill with tears again, but there’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips, and Jean’s mouth quirks up. Jeremy breathes in, out, in again, bumping his nose against Jean’s before taking Jean’s bottom lip in between his. The kiss is chaste, sweet, the sweetest thing Jean’s ever tasted. He marvels at the sparkle in Jeremy’s eyes when they pull back.
“Tu es tout pour moi. Je t’aime, Jean,” Jeremy whispers, and Jean’s so in love with this man his heart’s going to burst. He kisses Jeremy again, and buries his face in his neck.
“No one’s ever treated me like you do. I don’t deserve this,” Jeremy says, and Jean whips his head up, words on his tongue ready to spill out, but Jeremy shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t deserve this, but I want it. I think that’s all that matters for now.”
Jean’s smile stretches his lips, and he stares at Jeremy’s matching one. He knows it isn’t over—far from it. Jeremy still has a long way to go, and Jean will be with him every step of the way. One day he’ll see himself the way Jean sees him. One day he’ll look at the keys in his hand and open the cage, breaking free.
But for now, there’s the shape of Jeremy’s body pressed against his, Jeremy’s eyes full of stars and moons and entire galaxies looking at Jean. For now, Jean is holding the sun in his arms, and it’s enough.