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The day was boring enough to where the Teen Titans would chill in Red Hood’s safe house without saying a word. Jett casually sighs for the 67th time in a row, spinning in a chair while juggling two apples for some reason.
The little beeps of video game music emit from Eugene’s playtendo. “Have you ever played Smash before?” he asks, his eyes glued to the screen.
Jett shrugs his shoulders. “Once, I think. It was ass though,” he obnoxiously chuckles, shaking his head.
Eugene just rolls his eyes. “You think everything is ass,” he mutters, the corners of his lips curling downwards into a pout. “…whatever,” he quickly says under his breath.
“You mad?” Jett tilts his head, his eyebrow smugly raised.
“No,” Eugene hums. “Just thinking about how refreshing it’d be to play with the boys back at my boarding school,” he grins slightly.
“Really?” Jett muses, leaning his head back as he spins around in his beloved chair some more. “Is it that fun?”
“Yeah! This guy, John—” Eugene pauses to giggle. “He’s so funny! He’s… kinda smart, too, and, uh, kind…”
Jett pauses within his spinning, setting the two apples aside as he registers Eugene’s words. John? Who the fuck is John? Jett thought, his brows furrowing. His jaw clenches. What type of shitty name is John? “Oh. Oh, okay,” he says, pursing his lips and nodding his head. “Oh, okay…”
Eugene pauses, looking up at the pink haired boy, who looked deep in thought. “…What’s wrong?”
Jett, however, was indeed deeply in thought. He thought of several ways on how to kill that stupid twerp John. He groans, rolling his eyes. Why am I mad anyway? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, right? Jett told himself before sighing out a response, “nothing, nothing,” he feigned a smile. “Keep talking about that idiot.”
The insult went fortunately unheard by Eugene who happily rambled on. Jett’s hands wrap around a harmless pencil, his grip shaky and white knuckled.
“Oh, well, y’know… John is nice. He let me beat him in several rounds!” Eugene laughs.
The pencil suddenly snaps in half, wooden splinters scattering onto the desk. “He sounds like has a skill issue,” Jett mumbles, glaring down at the broken pencil.
“…what was that?”
“Oh, I said he sounds like a real, fun person,” Jett said through gritted teeth. He sounds like a fucking loser, is what he would’ve said in reality. Several thoughts ran in circles in his mind—ranging from multiple ways on how to kill this so called “John” and why the actual fuck was Eugene making him feel this way.
Eugene wasn’t even all that, Jett mused. He had a shorter stature than Jett, often making the powerless boy look up at him. It usually made his stomach twist and he didn’t know why. His brown eyes were different from any other person—totally not because Jett often looked at Eugene—a hazel shade that glowed in the sun. A subtle red flush tinted his face. Fuck. Fuck! He hated both of them. He hated John for purely existing and Eugene for making his heart fucking shake like crazy.
Jett puts his head in his hands. This fucking sucked, he mentally sighed. Listening to Eugene talking about an absolute loser and laughing about it… I make him laugh more than John, right? Right…? What the hell does John have that I don’t have? The ability to play Smash? His hands tug on his hair. Jett swore to himself, if he ever met John, he’d—
“Jett? Hello, Earth to Jett?” Eugene calls out, his head tilted slightly to the side.
“Huh?”
“I’m… gonna go. Really tired”, Eugene yawns.
“Oh. Oh, uh, night,” Jett blurts out watching him leave. The door clicks, echoing in the empty room. He throws his head back on the chair. “Fuck!” He hits his fist on the table as he thinks of that stupid loser John again. “I fucking hate that dude…”
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
Jett cannot sleep for the life of him. He tosses and turns, Eugene’s voice echoing in his head. “Oh, my fucking god, make it stop,” he groans, covering his head with his pillow. What the absolute fuck was this feeling? It felt like a thousand prickles on the back of his neck, like strong swirlings in his stomach. It made Jett feel like he needed to run or hide—and from what? From Eugene?
He didn’t even know why he was mad in the first place. Eugene can have his own friends. It’s just that… he described ‘John’ in too much detail, is that it? He’s not jealous, is he?
Fuck.
He sits up and sighs, staring up at the ceiling like it holds all his answers. “I am so fucked.” Now, back to his original question—the feeling. It wasn’t necessarily loathing. Eugene was badass! Kinda cute, but Jett didn’t hold that against him. Totally.
“Kinda cute? Jett, get over yourself!” He grumbled, flopping backwards onto his bed. “He’s not cute. He’s not cute, he’s…” Jett trails off, shaking his head. “Fuck this!” He rolls out of bed, beelining straight for the kitchen.
The sun was just rising and Jett didn’t get a wink of sleep. Who can he blame? Oh, that’s right, a fucking prick named John. He grabs a mug from the rack—totally not his. Surely Jason won’t mind, right? Right… Sharing is caring! He immediately tunes into making the most heinous coffee ever, dumping hot water into the mug, frowning.
John. That stupid, despicable prick John from Eugene’s boarding school. Who even liked John anyway? Clearly Eugene did from how fondly he talked of him. The thought made Jett’s hands shake, his powers flaring up to the point where the coffee mug practically imploded on itself, coffee splashing onto the counter.
“Motherfucker—” Jett sighs. Jason is going to fucking kill him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he mutters, desperately cleaning up the mess, his eyes twitching.
“Um… Jett?” Eugene suddenly speaks up, stepping into the kitchen. “Are you alright?”
“Ah, Eugene!” Jett says, trying to pretend that he didn’t flinch at his sudden arrival. “I thought you’d be busy playing with…” He hesitates. God, he even hated saying his wretched name. “…John.”
Eugene pauses, confusion washing over his face. He decides to ignore the very obvious shade. “…have you slept at all?”
“‘Course I have,” Jett scoffs nonchalantly. “Who do you think I am?”
Eugene blinks, gazing into Jett’s starry eyes. “You usually—”
“Yeah, yeah. Uh, I gotta gooo…” Jett blurts out, practically dashing around the corner. “See ya!” Once he’s sure he’s out of sight, he almost slaps himself. Get a grip, Jett, he tells himself. Get a fucking grip, please! Do not think about how cute he looked while staring at you. Do not think about Eugene or… or that other loser that Jett couldn’t bring himself to name.
And as usual, he would blame John for his torment.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
The ASCEND debriefings were the bane of Jett’s existence, and to make it worse, he hadn’t had a wink of sleep since last night. His coffee fucking exploded on him because of some lousy asshole named John. The mug imploded and it wasn't even his. What could Jett say to Jason? That John made him do it? Ugh, it was ridiculous! Normally, he would get over stuff like this but he couldn’t for some reason. It drove Jett insane, making his leg shake while Ezra talked and talked. His head almost slams onto the floor by his several attempts to keep himself awake.
His nails dig into his jacket as his arms cross, mind and eyes drifting over to the back of Eugene’s head. Sometimes, Jett wanted to run his fingers through his soft, dark velvet hair, to test the waters and to see how it felt. Jett manages to look away before a light blush graces his face. And here came the inevitable shitshow—the thoughts about John.
John was… well, what wasn’t he? He was irritating, irrelevant, an absolute dumbass, and he shouldn’t even be near Eugene. Shouldn’t be making him laugh. Or that’s what Jett thought. A long sigh exits his mouth, his foot tapping anxiously against the stone floors. John needed to go. Like right this instant, or Jett might explode—
Instead, his chair fucking explodes from underneath him. Jett curses in all the languages that he somehow knows as he hits the floor ass first and very fucking hard. “Shit!”
The debriefing pauses with a stifled chuckle from Lian. Ezra does the most disrespectful thing ever to Jett—trying not to laugh. The audacity! He swears he sees PJ twitch and snicker a little. Jason, on the other hand, just pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily with his eyes closed. Jett would’ve smugly smirked if it weren’t for Eugene looking worriedly at him. His heart flutters, going in circles inside his chest. He suddenly freezes. Nobody has ever looked at Jett that way before.
“Do you want my seat?” Eugene whispers as the debriefing shortly continues.
Jett shakes his head vigorously. “I don’t want your seat,” he hisses. Why would I want his seat? Where the hell would he sit if I took it?
“Are you sure?”
Jett nods his head, watching Eugene hesitate to turn his attention back to the screen instead of him. He brings his knees to his chest and zones out, his eyes fixated on Eugene’s back. A dopey look graces his face. Ezra thought it was quite dumb of Eugene to own a “I paused my game to be here” shirt, but Jett thought it was quite charming, and besides, he actually looked sweet and adorable in it. The shirt practically grew on him like a fucking fungus.
He leans his chin on his hand, mesmerized by Eugene. And Eugene didn’t even do anything major—he just sat there, probably impatient to play Smash again. Ugh, with that idiot John. Jett’s smile almost drops when Eugene peeks to the side, glancing back at him. His eyes widen before he reluctantly reverts his attention back to the screen, trying to pay attention to whatever the hell Jason said.
Blah, blah, blah, ASCEND and whatnot. Blah, blah, blah… Eugene looks super lovely today and John should totally die in a ditch for all Jett cares… Um, what? He manages to catch the smallest grin appearing on Eugene’s face before he faces forward. Jett almost dreamily sighs.
John did not deserve that smile at all. If Jett ever met this so-called John, he’d beat him the hell up. But that’s for another day…
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
Another chill day for the Titans meant arcade day. Normally, Jett would be all over the place, using his powers like hell, but no, not today. Why? Fucking John. Somehow, he’s here like the plague! And he’s stuck to Eugene like two peas in a rotten pod.
Jett was right for one part—John looked like a complete loser. A douchebag, too. He would’ve cheekily grinned at using his powers to give that loser a bad probability of winning those pesky arcade games, and that he did. It was quite the pretty petty trick but something deep down inside him wasn’t quite satisfied. Although, he did enjoy seeing John make a fool of himself in front of Eugene.
If he weren’t such a mess right now, he’d march right over there and punch him square in the nose.
John was still managing to make Eugene laugh. Harder than usual. A laugh that Jett hadn’t gotten out of Eugene. And Jett was busy stuck staring at them in the corner, arms crossed and jaw clenched with a little scowl on his face. He felt like a complete pathetic chud just standing there. He groans, cursing Eugene for making him fuss and whine like this. “Fuck this shit,” he mutters under his breath, making a beeline for the exit.
Luckily, nobody batted an eye. Everyone was too busy playing their own little games. Jett leans against the brick wall of the alleyway, searching his pockets for what would be his salvation: his legendary blue raspberry vape that he mysteriously acquired one day. His eyes light up, a grin tugging at his lips.
Back in the arcade, Eugene turns his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Hey, Jett—” he pauses. “Jett?” He glances around the arcade, not seeing a single glimpse of pink hair and a bright, neon yellow shirt. He frowns as he steps back from his video game. “I’ll be right back,” he quickly tells John before running outside.
Jett leans his head back on the wall, feeling at peace for once as blue raspberry flavored smoke leaves his lungs. The lack of sleep and the addition of that bastard John being there attributed to his terrible mood. It sucked… he sighed.
“Jett? Jett!” Eugene calls out, turning into the alleyway. His eyes find Jett and he almost trips over on his feet. “Hey, there you are!”
Jett looks up and coughs mid-vape hit. “Oh, shit—”
He manages to deliver his usual smug smile at Eugene.
“Why are you out here? I spent like, five minutes looking for you!” Eugene chuckles. “Um, I need help on a game. There’s this prize that I really want—”
“I thought your little friend would help you,” Jett mutters, about to walk away.
“What? Jett, wait—” Eugene’s hands grasp around Jett’s wrist. Warmth runs through him almost instantly. He doesn’t need words to know that Eugene really wants that prize.
He sighs. “Fine.” Besides, John would suck ass at the game anyway.
After a few short minutes of cheating the odds, he finally acquires a large creeper from Minecraft. It’s quite lumpy and smells of mountain dew, but if it's what Eugene wants, then it's what Eugene gets. He proudly struts over to Eugene and little loser John.
“Here you go,” Jett nonchalantly says, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smirk. “Was quite easy if you ask me.”
Jett watches Eugene’s eyes light up. “Holy shit,” Eugene breathes. “You did it!”
“That I did,” Jett smugly says before his eyes meet John’s. His eyes twitch subtly. He feigns a smile, concealing all the hatred beneath his eyes. “Oh. We haven’t met before.”
John falters underneath Jett’s glare. “Oh, shit. Y—You’re Wildcard?”
“Yeah. Don’t wear it out,” Jett smirks, turning around. He turns his head, glancing back at John. “See you around. Or not.”
Eugene looks completely starstruck while John shakes in his boots. “Your friend is terrifying.”
“Uh-huh…” Eugene mumbles, replaying that moment over and over in his mind. He lets out a dreamy sigh.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
The wind blows a gentle breeze on Jett’s face as he walks on the ledge of a rooftop like a balancing beam. Patrols and whatnot, he’d probably spend it vaping in alleyways or goofing around if he were paired with Lian or PJ. But, Ezra decided to play in his face and pair him up with Eugene. Typical Ezra, Jett scoffs mentally. He glances back at Eugene, hearing him snicker.
“What’s so funny?” Jett asks.
“Oh, nothing! Just thinking about John and last night and…” Eugene trails off.
Jett rolls his eyes. “Can you stop talking about him?” He blurts out, a weight lifted off his shoulders.
“What?” Eugene asks, raising his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with—”
Jett shakes his head, walking over to Eugene. “You’ve been talking about him nonstop for the past few weeks. It’s like you’re in love with him or something,” he jokingly sneers.
“What!?” Eugene exclaims. “That’s… that’s insane. You met him yesterday!”
“Yeah, and he looked like a total douchebag,” Jett scoffs. “It’s ridiculous.”
Eugene stammers. “You wanna know what you look like, huh? You look like…um…”
“Uh-huh?” Jett says, getting in Eugene’s face. “Tell me what I look like, Shazam,” he cheekily says in a condescending tone, enjoying the anger wash over Eugene’s face.
“You’re an asshole,” Eugene mutters. “I hate you—”
“Tell me about it.”
“I hate you,” Eugene repeats, his eyes looking up at Jett’s lips. His breath quietly catches in his throat.
“Oh, do you now?” Jett tilts his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“This…this is why you have no friends,” Eugene stammers, his face slowly turning red. In reality, Eugene had nothing to use against Jett.
That seems to tick Jett off. “Oh, so, what, do the times I spend with the Titans mean nothing to you?”
Eugene looks up at Jett’s eyes, backing up until he hits a wall. “Ugh, you know—” He pauses, his gaze dropping to his lips. “It makes you sound jealous of my friend.”
Jett scoffs incredulously. “Jealous? Me? Fat chance.”
“Oh, but you are!” Eugene insists. “It’s not my fault that you’re jealous over a guy I’m just friends with!”
“It’s not my fault you’re delusional, Shazam.”
“Stop saying that!” Eugene proclaimed, his brows furrowing in anger. “You’re so jealous and you hate how it feels, don’t you?”
Jett just frowns. “You really want to know what I really hate, Eugene?” He doesn’t even let him talk. “I hate the way you make me feel. You—you drive me fucking insane. You know what you’re doing,” he almost laughs, looking to the side before looking down at his lips. “And I can’t handle it at all.”
A small gasp leaves Eugene. His eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. Jett has to look away—You stupid idiot, why would you say that? He berated himself—from Eugene or else he might do something stupid.
“You—”
“Shut up,” Jett mutters, looking back down at Eugene. “Just shut up.”
They stand in silence for a while, staring at each other's lips. Jett leans in, hesitating at the last moment.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”
“What!?” Eugene exclaims. “Are you kidding—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, calm down,” Jett shakes his head before pressing his lips to Eugene’s.
Jett feels Eugene lean upwards on his tiptoes, clinging onto his shirt as he returns the kiss eagerly. His hands cup the sides of Eugene’s face.
“Holy shit,” Eugene breathes in-between kisses, “was that your first kiss?”
Jett pulls back, smirking at Eugene’s fogged up glasses. “Nope.”
“Oh. Wait, what!?” Eugene asks. “Who were they?”
“Aw, who’s jealous now?” Jett teases before leaning in to kiss Eugene again.
“Shut up!”
Jett just simply laughs in response.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
Jason groans as he hops onto another rooftop. “Where the fuck are these kids?” he shakes his head, turning the corner. He expected the occasional empty chip bag or the usual pigeon. What he didn’t expect was Jett and Eugene literally making out on said rooftop.
“Oh.” Is all Jason says before quietly laughing, snapping a photo to later blackmail the shit out of Wildcard.
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
“Hey, Jett,” Jason calls out, leaning on the table.
“What do you want, unc?” Jett yawns.
“Can you explain this?” Jason jokingly asks, showing him the photo.
Jett’s jaw drops. “What. What the fuck—” He stammers. “Okay! Okay! Whatever! You got me! Just don’t show anyone!”
Jason just snickers in response. “Alright, whatever you say.”