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Jeremy was sitting on the floor, frantically trying to clean up a mess of wrapping paper as Jab frantically dove for any piece he missed.
Cat and Laila were doubled over laughing at his situation and Jean was half smiling from the couch as he called Jab’s name.
“Oh, the betrayal! And on my birthday.”
“Can’t have your head getting too big now, can we!” Cat chirped as she slapped a bow onto the top of Jeremy’s head.
The rest of the Floozies had just left Jeremy’s impromptu birthday dinner party, and now it was just the four of them, crowded about the not-so-new apartment that was finally starting to feel like home.
Between the woven rug that cushioned the concrete floor, the lamps casting a soft golden glow and the art covering the walls, the place almost seemed cozy. More than that, it had memories imbued in those paintings, and the dying plant by the door, and the already worn shelf of board games.
As Jeremy let his eyes wander, he heard the unmistakable sound of tearing paper. “Jab! No! Bad!” While wrestling the paper free, he cried, “Mauvais!”
Jean started at the sound of the French, and scooped up Jab, tickling his belly until his mouth fell open, revealing a tiny piece of ribbon still stuck in his teeth.
“It’s not fair that you’re his favorite.”
“That is the price of naming him after me, Captain.” Jean should’ve looked ridiculous, between the party hat tipping off his head (it had taken an hour to convince him to wear it) the confetti dusting his shoulders, and the massive pair of fluffy socks on his crossed feet, but all Jeremy could see was how lovely he looked.
Mercifully, Cat interrupted before his staring became awkward or noticeable. “Okay! Jeremy, who had the best gift this year?”
“Cat, they’re all great, I can’t—“
“Jeremy. Stop hedging. Admit that I am the best.” Laila crowed as she dramatically threw her head into Cat’s lap, gesturing wildly at the table full of gifts.
Jeremy couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the bounty before him. Growing up, he often received a lot of presents, but not necessarily things he particularly wanted. Lots of action figures and comic books and other ‘masculine’ gifts. And always, boring, plain clothes that suited his mother’s sensibilities. He was always grateful for whatever he got, but by the time he was 13, he was asking his mom to make donations to local charities and hospitals instead of bothering with gifts.
This table was the opposite of those days, a riot of color and silliness and fun. From Min and Xavier, a set of glittery nail polishes and a couple of pins for his Exy bag. Cody had gifted Jeremy a travel coffee mug patterned with suns to ‘keep him from dying in a fiery crash’ and a couple of French tapes to keep him occupied in the car. Ananya and Pat had been a bit more practical, buying him a polo in USC red and gold that was subtle enough to fly under his mother’s radar of ‘acceptability’, and a bucket hat with the USC logo.
Cat and Laila had gone all out of course. Cat had gotten him a life size pillow printed with a picture of Jab, with a card containing strict instructions to keep it at his Mother’s house so he wasn’t lonely. Alongside it was a tiny keychain of Jab and mortifyingly- a collar that matched Jab’s far too well. Explaining the… purpose? Connotations? Of that to Jean had been interesting to say the least.
Laila had gotten him a new pair of headphones for his runs and French practice and a bullhorn. A rainbow covered bullhorn. To yell either at that the team, or them, she’d explained in fits of giggles, since Jeremy had been straining his voice from the exertion. There was also a matching shirt, identical to an Exy jersey, save the number 69 and the word “GAY” where the name should go. It was solid black with rainbow borders and rainbow lettering. He couldn’t fathom where she had found it.
“Jean? Thoughts?”
Jean wrinkled his nose slightly. “They are all quite horrible.”
“Oh cmon! What’s the best gift you’ve ever gotten?” As soon as Jeremy said the words, he regretted them, unsure of what sort of memory they would dredge up.
But Jean was smiling. Just a tiny bit. But still. “Kevin once bought me postcards of Marseilles. It was not long after I came to the Nest and I missed it very much. They stayed on my wall until…”
Jean trailed off, the end of the sentence obvious.
“Well. I have to say, I think Laila may have won this year. Sorry, Cat.”
“Unbelievable! Betrayal! After all the work I put into that!” She flounced dramatically to the kitchen, Laila following her while whooping in delight.
Jean was staring at Jeremy intensely, Jab still sitting in his lap. “Your mother doesn’t mind that you are here instead of with her?”
Jeremy looked away and scratched the back of his neck. “Um. I don’t think she even remembered, to be honest. My freshman year I had an awful family dinner but since then…she’s never said anything. So.” He smiled as brightly as he could as he looked back at Jean. “I’d rather be here with you guys, though.”
“Yes.”
Jean seemed to be struggling with something, his eyes shifting about the room, before he put down Jab and walked toward his room. He returned holding a package. “It is not much.”
Jean had bought him a birthday gift. Jean.
Jeremy felt like his heart was going to explode. “Jean—I—I can’t—“
“It was nothing.” Jean looked pointedly away from him, so Jeremy carefully unwrapped the butcher paper. Inside was a stapled together stack of papers with careful handwriting and a variety of symbols covering them. At closer inspection, they were lists and diagrams of Exy plays, drills, and rules. All in French.
The plays are resting on a small clay dish. Which, when Jeremy holds it up to eye level, is revealed to be a dog bowl, with JAB carefully carved into the side.
He looks up at Jean from his position on the floor, and is shocked to see how red Jean has gone. “It is supposedly easier to learn the language with things you know well. And I thought maybe Exy would be good to know terms for, but there aren’t many books. And the bowl is not for you I suppose, but the studio had open hours, and well. It seemed right.”
Jeremy carefully sets the bowl and papers on the coffee table and stands. “Can I hug you?”
“What?”
“Can I hug you?”
“Why?” Jean seems genuinely confused and Jeremy’s heart breaks a little. “Because you’re a very good friend, Jean. I love it.”
I love you. Jeremy thinks silently, refusing to let the words slip out.
“Yes?”
Jeremy loosely wraps his arms around Jean, placing his head against one of Jean’s broad shoulders. He doesn’t squeeze or pull as tightly as he would on most people, just tries to get the maximum effect out of minimum contact.
When he lets go, Jean is even redder, and he quickly turns away.
“Cat! Laila! I’m so sorry, but it appears Jean actually wins this years gift giving!”
As shouts of protect come from the kitchen, Jeremy hears Jab’s delighted little growl, and both him and Jean dive for the paper in his mouth, laughing as they do so.
And as Jeremy watched Jean wrestle with the dog, a smile splitting his serious face, he can’t help but feel that this moment may be the greatest gift of all.