Chapter Text
⋆.☔︎︎*:･Andrew⭑.⋆.☔︎︎*:･
The beach held about as much appeal for Andrew as an exy convention, so he opted to spend his afternoon alone. The weather was warm, balmy and humid, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Andrew watched the dark clouds rolling in from his vantage point on the roof, feeling the cool change whisper through the air.
He didn't know who Wilds had managed to drag along to the beach. Kevin and Nicky, definitely. Maybe Aaron. Not Jean, thus—by extension—not Neil.
The two of them had grown closer over the summer, not quite magnetised to each other's sides, but undeniably tethered. At first, Andrew was certain that Neil was going to get himself punched for constantly seeking out a feral dog when it backed itself into a corner. Only as time went by did it become increasingly clear that when Jean wanted to be away from everyone, that didn't include Neil.
It was agitating.
It was interesting.
It was something to push from his mind as a flock of birds flew overhead and shrank against the horizon.
Familiar voices below had Andrew leaning perilously close to the edge, catching just a glimpse of Neil leading a laughing Renee to the Maserati. Andrew rolled his eyes. Figures that Renee would stay behind with her charges, too. Then again, she knew better than most how to handle such unexpectedly delicate little birds.
Usually, Andrew would be reaching for a cigarette right about now, but Jean and Renee had finally made good on their threats to start a rooftop garden. The pale green saplings sitting in small plastic pots along the low step by Andrew's knee successfully quelled his itching fingertips.
Andrew had disappointed many people in his life, but he was yet to disappoint Renee Walker. Breaking that streak with saplings that he had wilted wasn't an option.
He would be angry about this hostile takeover of his private space if he could summon the feeling, but it stayed stubbornly out of reach. Between Andrew's dorm, his best friend, his—his Neil, and now his girlfriend, the roof was just another thing that Andrew had learned to share with Jean Moreau.
The door behind him whined as it was pushed open, admitting a surly-looking Jean, as though Andrew had summoned him with his less than favourable thoughts. He didn't seem surprised to find Andrew there, though where else would Andrew be? Neil and Renee had stolen his car.
Jean hesitated when he caught Andrew's eye, not moving until Andrew gestured to the wall beside him in half-hearted invitation. It was enough for Jean. He mirrored Andrew's pose; elbows resting on the low wall, back hunched, eyes forward.
The first time Jean joined Andrew on the roof, he made a crack about Andrew jumping off the edge. He didn't make those kinds of jokes anymore. Andrew sensed Neil's handiwork in this, but it could also be that Jean had grown a heart as well as a backbone. The thought was nauseating.
'They went to get ice cream,' Jean said after a prolonged silence.
'I didn't ask,' Andrew replied.
'You were wondering.'
Andrew didn't dignify that with a response, but Jean was only accepting of silences that he initiated.
'It will rain soon,' he muttered. Andrew slanted a glance at him. 'The air feels heavy,' Jean continued. 'Those clouds look even heavier. I remember this feeling, faintly, though the air was never this thick in Marseilles, despite being near to the coast. Summers here are horrible.'
'You have experienced exactly two percent of a South Carolina summer,' Andrew drawled.
'And it has been horrible.' Jean sniffed. 'I can feel heat under my skin even after the sun goes down. It never goes away. It is suffocating and…'
'Cloying?' Andrew suggested.
Jean waved him off. 'I do not understand how a place can be so unpleasant in almost every regard.'
Andrew stared at Jean's curled lip, his steely eyes intense and piercing. The bruises from the Ravens were gone now, wounds slowly fading into scars. The worst of his injuries was a deep red slash that stood in vivid contrast against the pale skin of his jaw, and there were more beneath Jean's shirt. Jean wore the evidence of his violent treatment all over his body, though these marks did nothing to mar his appeal.
Jean was like Neil in many ways. They were both scarred, both frustratingly good looking and unaware of this fact, but the similarity that struck Andrew the most was the way the two of them could talk on and on about absolutely nothing, and Andrew—who barely tolerated conversation at the best of times—never found himself bored by a single word.
It wasn't a real concern but, given Jean's ranting, Andrew still reaffirmed, 'You're not still thinking of running.'
Jean shook his head. His last attempt at escape had resulted in Neil talking him down at a bus station. It had been quite a sight for Andrew, watching from the car outside; like seeing a tree felled by nothing but a strong wind. With every word from Neil's lips, Jean's body bowed then fell until he was gasping for air at Neil's feet.
Timber!
Neil never told Andrew what he said to Jean, but his words clearly banished any thoughts of returning to Evermore from Jean's mind. Slowly, Jean was shedding his Raven feathers, though he was far from sprouting the teeth of a Fox.
That had been another surprise about Jean, his gentleness. He tried to hide it, but Andrew was perceptive enough to see the way he leaned into Neil's side during debriefs, the hesitant curl of his fingers when Renee reached for his hand, the way he watched Kevin when he thought no one was looking. Andrew hadn't thought such a soft soul could survive the harsh brutality of Jean's life. He was so often prickly and abrasive that Andrew would start to grow bored, but then Jean would go and do something ridiculously sweet, like carefully transferring a ladybug from his shirtsleeve to a leaf, and it only caught Andrew's interest all the more.
'I will endure this place and all of its shortcomings,' Jean said quietly, tapping his thumb against each finger in turn. Reminding himself of his reasons to stay, Andrew would wager.
'You could be doing more with your new life than enduring it,' Andrew told him, ignoring his own hypocrisy.
Jean did him no such favour. 'Should I be hiding away on this roof all the time like you and Neil do?'
Andrew gestured to Jean's surroundings and felt mild amusement when he scowled. Getting to know Jean so well hadn't been Andrew's plan, but the man was up on the roof with him as much as Neil these days. It was impossible not to notice his quirks, not to listen to his rambling thoughts and learn his patterns. Jean was not a predictable beast, but he was growing to be familiar.
'That is different. I merely followed you up here.'
'Nobody forced you to,' Andrew said. 'You chose not to go with Neil and Renee, and I won't be lectured about my choices by a man who doesn't know what he wants. Unless you finally figured it out?'
Jean's stormy eyes met the one brewing in the sky, scowling at the clear challenge in Andrew's words. 'You know I can't— I don't—' Jean broke off, but there was no room for pity in Andrew's emotional teacup.
'What do you want, Jean?' he pressed.
Stony silence was all Andrew received for a long time, then Jean reached for his throat. Andrew moved faster, catching his wrist and holding it tight. Jean's breath hitched as he registered their proximity but Andrew had already promised Jean that he wouldn't hurt him unless Jean struck first. He wasn't in the business of repeating himself, so he waited for Jean to remember.
Their gazes warred with each other, but Andrew kept his expression neutral. Jean searched Andrew's face, recognition slowly pouring in as the tension drained out of Jean's body, his wrist going slack in Andrew's grasp. Only when Jean pulled away did Andrew release him.
'That's what I thought.'
'What do you want, then?' Jean said at length. 'Lead by example.'
Andrew bit back the snarky, 'I want you to shut up,' at the tip of his tongue and instead gave the question some consideration. The act of wanting wasn't as foreign to him as it likely was to Jean, but Andrew had previously reserved these kinds of conversations for Bee. It was an exercise in patience, letting Jean know him in these slow, bleeding increments, yet Andrew couldn't help feeling like the payout would be worth it when Jean finally wormed his way out from under Riko's rotting thumb.
'I have no need for want,' Andrew said honestly. 'Wanting is for when you have nothing. I had nothing, and I wanted, and what I wanted was given to me at too high a cost. Only when I grew out of wanting did I have anything worth keeping.'
Jean blinked. 'Is this some kind of riddle?'
Andrew spelled it out for him. 'You and I are not the same, Valjean. You can afford to want, because you have nothing to lose. You are free, mostly, and you have an entire team of annoying optimists who are more than willing to help make your wildest dreams come true.'
'So,' Jean began slowly, darting an uncertain glance at Andrew, 'you're saying you already have everything you want?'
'You're not listening.' Andrew huffed, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette after all. He shook the pack and Jean caught his wrist, just as Andrew had done to him moments before. Andrew froze, silently daring Jean to hold on. He did.
'I want to understand,' Jean whispered.
He was so close, both in proximity to Andrew and to the truth. Andrew waited him out, making no move to shake out of Jean's clammy grip.
'You want nothing,' Jean finally whispered, 'because you can't afford to pay for it.'
Both of them knew that he wasn't talking about money.
'My chips are worth more than the gamble,' Andrew said, and Jean dropped his hand. Andrew put the cigarettes back in his pocket.
'But does it have to be an exchange? It can't always be one thing for another.'
'Not always,' Andrew allowed, 'not for everyone.'
'But always for you, and you won't risk it.' Jean scratched his scarred jaw thoughtfully. 'It's safer to keep what you have, because you think you could lose someone otherwise; Neil or Kevin or Renee.'
The rest of his family had found enormous difficulty in accepting the relationships Andrew had with his people. The first time Nicky tried to call Neil Andrew's 'boyfriend,' Andrew had set the record quite succinctly straight.
'I'm with Neil, but he's not my boyfriend. I don't fuck Renee, but she is my girlfriend.'
Everyone else probably thought Andrew just wanted to continue his reputation as a chronic contrarian, but Neil, Renee and now Jean knew the truth. His bond with Renee was the strongest romantic connection that Andrew had, even more than the new one he'd only just started to forge with Neil. It wasn't sexual, but Renee was his all the same.
Jean had been a quick study, though he had Renee's whispered explanations pressed against his skin. Once he learned that Renee being Andrew's girlfriend wouldn't prevent her from being Jean's as well, he stopped caring about the logistics.
He was smart that way. Smart, considering he was still learning how to be a person.
'I do not think anything. I know,' Andrew amended. 'It's best to not want anything more than what I have. The same does not go for you. Understand now?'
Jean nodded. 'Yes. I think I do.' Andrew's relief was short-lived. 'I understand that Aaron did a number on you when he demanded that you choose between him and Neil. Now you think everything is a trade-off.'
Maybe Jean was not so smart after all. Maybe he just wasn't as smart as Neil, who seemed to see through Andrew to the very core of him. In any case, Andrew was done wasting his time on this conversation.
The silence lingered until, mercifully, the skies opened and a light rain drove Jean back inside. He would be alright for a moment, but Andrew knew he shouldn't leave him unattended for long. The memory of his ruined dorm room was too fresh, too violent in his mind's eye.
He lingered in the drizzle long enough to hear the purr of the Mas as Neil and Renee returned. Peering over the ledge, Andrew watched them get out of the car. Renee was laughing at something Neil said, no doubt at Andrew's expense, while Neil carried a plastic bag that no doubt held Andrew's favourite ice cream flavour. Andrew's spiky insides softened uncomfortably at the thought.
While he watched, Renee reached for Neil's free hand, twirling herself under it. He had learned enough from Renee that he knew when to pull her back in against his side and spin her out again. It was unexpectedly graceful, but Neil had always been a fast learner.
Andrew thought of that little boy who wanted, that little boy who grew into a man who wanted nothing; a man who had a family, who had two point five idiots, who got to watch as they danced in the rain and learned that their capacity for love was boundless. He thought of that little boy who wanted, and he thought of summer storms, and he followed after Jean inside.