Chapter Text
The nightmares were a constant presence, as inevitable as the setting sun. Jean had never learned to deal with them, but they had been low on the list of his concerns in The Nest. The violence in his mind never manifested on his body when he awoke; at least he had that to be thankful for. Now, with his life flipped upside down and thrown across the continent, they were the only thing left to hurt him. Somehow, that made them worse.
Jean hated it. The more he healed, the more new blows seemed to sting. Each night he approached his bed steel faced with his heart pounding enough to make his stomach hurt. He knew what was waiting for him in the recesses of his mind. Jean feared sleep but he couldn’t survive without performing, without excelling. In his nightmares, Riko picked him apart with knives, but his reality was the barrel of a gun and a headline stating “suicide.”
That’s what finally led him to do it. At least, that’s what Jean told himself.
It was the second time he had awoken in the same night and his face was wet with tears. The sensation almost made him start to choke until he realized he had just been crying. He heard the creak of Jeremy’s mattress as he sat up.
“Jean?” Jeremy called out. His roommate a mere shadow in the dark. “You can sleep in my bed. I don’t know if it would help, but...” he trailed off, letting the question linger between Jean’s panting breaths. Eventually Jean nodded, even though Jeremy couldn’t see it, and crept over. Jeremy pulled back the covers for him. It was a tight fit, with Jean practically laying on top of Jeremy, but if he minded, he didn’t say.
When Jean awoke well rested the next morning, his relief was followed by annoyance. Of course it worked. Of course he felt better. His frustration stayed with him for two days until he found himself accepting the invitation into Jeremy's bed once more.
Since then, it was unspoken. Jeremy didn't bat an eye at Jean's nightmares, simply pulling back his covers. Jeremy only stayed at the apartment over on the weekends and Jean ended up in his bed both nights. He tried to avoid it, but the more he relented, the more his body craved the physical contact. He tried other outlets, letting his legs fall across Laila’s lap when they watched movies or prolonging Cat’s warm embraces, but it all seemed to be leading down the same path. He could see each step ahead of him in alarming clarity, yet he could not stop himself from continuing forward.
~
It was a stupid idea; immature and impulsive. Jean stared at the little screen of his phone, the only light aglow in the dark of his room. It was a Wednesday which meant two things: no Jeremy and no morning practice the next day. Jean had the evening to himself, which he had been getting better at handling.
Cat and Laila had disappeared into their room a couple hours earlier and Jean had been failing at falling asleep when he let his insomnia get the better of him. Now he was sitting up in bed, awaiting the ominous text. His phone buzzed before the message popped up.
“Come over.”
Jean gulped. Lately, he had started going on morning runs and evening walks, alone. It was a way to increase his independence. Jeremy called it a “big step.”
Yesterday, on the way back from evening his stroll, a man had stepped out of the big blue house and called out to him. Cat called them frat bros while Laila argued the ones on their street were slightly better since they didn’t live in the actual fraternity houses.
Giving up his number had been a compromise. Levi had introduced himself and invited Jean inside, the house behind him alive with music and light in the pleasantly cool evening. Awkward in his solitude, Jean didn't know what to do and ended up telling the truth.
“I don’t drink,” he had said. Levi had shrugged and continued the conversation, tossing glances over his shoulder every few sentences. Jean had gotten pretty good at knowing when people knew who he was. Levi had known. Oddly enough, Jean gave him his number anyways.
“Keep it on the down low” he texted Jean later. “I’m straight, but I’ll have a good time with anyone.”
The situation was almost perfect. Jean shivered at the word as soon as it popped into his head. But the circumstances made an impossible situation more plausible. Levi wouldn’t say anything if he was the one asking Jean for discretion. Stomach twisting, Jean stared at the two simple words.
“Okay” he sent back.
Levi’s text was almost instantaneous. “I’ll meet you out front.”
Outside The Nest, Jean wasn’t sure how hooking up usually worked, but the way this was coming about was somewhat straightforward. In all honesty, Jean never had any trouble finding partners at Evermore. Despite USC’s stark differences from Edgar Allen, Jean was stumbling into this hookup in a similar fashion to the ones in his past.
Besides Grayson and Riko, none of the other Ravens ever forced themselves on Jean. His Perfect Court status only solidified protection from the players ranked beneath him.
Tensions always ran hot in the isolation of the Nest. The ratio of male to female players quickly diminished any stigma surrounding alleviating such base needs as sexual release with members of the same gender. Still, there was a certain line many of the male players refused to cross, sticking to fumbling hands and eager mouths instead.
But the rumors about Jean were widespread. Everyone knew what he had done, and that with him there was a possibility of more. He could feel the stares boring into him while he changed, showered, and dressed. Sometimes, after an especially successful game or a particularly brutal punishment, he would return a glance. That was enough, a simple tell, and then he would follow whoever it was back to their room.
It was never any of the original five, never anyone from the backline at all, and Jean tried to keep it as quiet as he could. Of course, there was only so much he could do, but he could handle sneers at practice after rumors spread at breakfast. What he had to avoid was Grayson catching on in the moment and taking the opportunity to get him alone. Somehow, he had avoided an interference from Grayson every time. Looking back, Jean wondered how aware his counterparts had been of Grayson’s motives. Perhaps it had been less coincidence and luck that protected those moments...
Shaking the thought from his mind as he fixed his hair, Jean got up and carefully opened the bedroom door. He crept down the hall on socked feet before slipping on his shoes and sneaking out. Silence was something Jean had mastered, even if he hadn’t the time to memorize all the creaks of the apartment’s floors like he had in The Nest. Nerves alight, he began to walk towards the big blue house.
Before Jean could knock on the door, Levi pulled it open. He wore baggy shorts and a t-shirt that looked much too large on him. He was taller than Jean, but much less muscular. Jean could see acne scars through the slight stubble on his chin as he scratched at it and messed with his backwards hat.
“Sup. C’mon in.” He spoke casually, but his voice was hushed. Jean nodded wordlessly and followed him inside. He didn’t speak again until they got to his room.
“So...” Levi lounged against the bed, “Jean.”
“Yes?" Jean twisted his hands, unconsciously smoothing over the healed bite on his wrist.
“Surprised you came over, to be honest.”
“Really, when you asked so nicely?” Jean snapped back, growing defensive. Was Levi trying to make him feel bad? As if some scrawny frat boy with a gross wrist tattoo could make him feel worse than everything else he had dealt with.
Levi laughed and crossed the room. “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”
He pulled Jean close by his shirt and kissed him. Jean twitched away but before Levi could notice, he launched back into the kiss. Levi let out a small grunt at the intensity before returning the enthusiasm. He pulled back to strip off his shirt before reaching for Jean’s. Suddenly remembering what lay beneath, Jean all but slapped his hands away.
“Don’t tell me you’re some blushing virgin,” Levi scoffed. If it was an attempt at crass humor, Levi was failing as his tone sunk lighthearted to annoyed. He’s desperate, Jean realized, from the hunch of his shoulders to the sprawl of his hands.
“This is on the ‘down low’,” Jean said slowly, using Levi’s own words. Levi nodded, adjusting his hat again.
“Yeah, man. No one’s gonna know.”
Jean gestured to his chest. “This is also not something to talk about.” Levi’s face looked stupid when he was confused, chapped lips twisting into a frown. Taking pity on the poor fool, Jean ripped his shirt off with a quick one-handed tug over his head.
Levi was a little shocked, Jean could tell, but he stayed hard in his shorts.
“If you don’t like it, I can leave.”
Stepping forward, Levi ran his hands over Jean’s abs. “There’s a lot more that I like under your shirt than what I don’t...I guess it cancels out.”
“What are you, a math major?” Jean asked.
“Hmm no, Econ. But let’s not talk.”
That’s better. Jean was sick of talking.
The only words he said for the next twenty minutes were “yes” and “more.” Levi knew what he was doing just enough to keep his mind occupied, but like Jean surmised before, he was more desperate than experienced. He didn’t last long before collapsing onto Jean, sweat-soaked hair pressing against Jean’s shoulder blade and the back of his neck
Jean was tired from practice, and it had been a while since he had last shared a night with someone so intimately. The combined factors tugged him towards sleep. The room was strange, but the familiarity of another person’s breathing made up for the lack of every other comfort. A few hours later, Jean awoke to someone stirring beside him and a breath on his shoulder.
“Wanna go again?”
Levi’s voice was husky from sleep.
“Mm ‘kay,” Jean muttered, moving to sit up, but Levi rolled him over instead, yanking his hips up. He felt Levi testing him, his fingers less patient this time around.
“No condom, you good with that?” Levi whispered in Jean’s ear as he planted his hands beside Jean’s shoulders. They’d never bothered in The Nest, so Jean shrugged. He supposed it was different on the other end of things, but he had barely noticed the difference in feel.
What Jean did feel was the air shooting out of his lungs as Levi returned with vigor. Jean gritted his teeth, second guessing how well he was still prepared from earlier. Levi lasted longer this round too, but he reached a hand around to get Jean off simultaneously. Jean hadn’t finished from their first round so he came quickly and ended up squirming and panting for the next ten minutes as Levi continued to rut into him until he, too, was satisfied.
“Fuck,” Levi groaned, stepping back from the bed. Jean all but fell forward without the other man’s hands holding him up. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Jean gingerly turned onto his side, pawing in the sheets until he found his phone. It was 3am. Levi shuffled around the room, naked and yawning. Wiping himself down with a towel scooped up from the floor, he watched Jean with heavy lidded eyes. He tossed the towel to Jean, who ignored the slightly damp smell of it as he cleaned up the best he could, the terrycloth rough between his legs.
“You can stay for a bit. No one starts moving around here until at least, I don’t know...seven?”
Jean nodded, sitting up to give the towel back. Levi gave him a look and waved towards the messy floor. Jean tossed it towards a random pile before curling back up on the bed. Levi cracked open a bottle of water, chugged half of it, and rejoined him.
It was borderline sweltering in the room and the heat of their bodies created a sticky feeling of humidity. Jean fought the urge to shove Levi away by digging nails into his palms. He couldn’t leave, or could he? It was too much to think about.
A window... Jean squinted but he couldn’t see the stars from where he lay. He wanted to ask if they could open a window, but it seemed like such a luxury.
Jean managed to set an alarm on his phone before he fell back into a restless sleep.
He awoke to the sunlight streaming in and his phone buzzing in his hand. Squinting, Jean hit buttons until it turned off before twisting to get up, feeling slightly sore. A movement beside him let him know the alarm had also awoken his bedmate. Levi hooked a leg around one of Jean’s and turned him slightly.
“What?” Jean asked, obliging the movement while looking over his shoulder.
“Just wanted to see your ass one more time before you leave,” he said, a smirk on his drool-stained face. Jean scoffed, feeling Levi’s gaze follow him as he found his scattered clothes and redressed.
“Maybe I’ll text you,” Levi said as Jean checked his pockets one more time, making sure he had his keys.
“Maybe I’ll respond."
Jean doubted they'd speak again. He didn't glance back at the house until he was back on his stoop. It was better to leave it like that and they both knew it.
~
Cat heard the door opening as she flicked off the kitchen faucet. Abandoning the vegetables in the strainer, she poked her head out in the hallway, expecting Jeremy. She was surprised to find Jean standing there instead, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he messed with the hem of his rumpled t-shirt.
“Yo!” Cat called out, Jean snapping to attention. “Want to learn how to make the best omelets you’ll ever eat?”
Jean enjoyed cooking, that Cat knew, even if Jean had never actually said it. He wasn’t nearly as disastrous as he was at the start. Cat had taught him enough of the basics that she could delegate certain tasks for him to do without her help. Still, he stayed put, fidgeting by the door. Cat stepped closer to him, concern growing.
“Jean? You alright?” she asked, forcing her voice to be softer. Jean smelled like sweat, unfamiliar cologne and something else...
“I need to shower,” he said. A simple enough need, but his face was burning with embarrassment.
“No worries, I can manage breakfast on my own. Laila’s out grabbing coffee and—"
Cat had started back into the kitchen mid-ramble when Jean had gently grasped her arm.
“I—" Jean started and looked away. “I can’t.”
Cat felt a dip of panic in her stomach. Something was wrong, something was freaking Jean out and every part of her wanting to scream. What is it? What happened? What’s going on? She took a deep breath, took his hand off her arm and interlaced his fingers with hers.
“Okay, that’s okay,” Cat tried to assure. Jean’s face twisted again, nose wrinkling in disgust.
“No, I need to,” he started again, more desperate.
“We’ll figure it out,” Cat said and released his hand to approach the bathroom. His navy towel hung on the hanger but she dug in the cabinets for his horrendous 3 in 1 bodywash and put it in the shower before cranking it on. She tested the temperature and stepped out.
“Want to get some fresh clothes?” Cat asked, resting a hand on her hip. Jean nodded and went to his and Jeremy’s shared room, a robotic gait in his walk. His knee, Cat thought with a grimace. That must have been what set him off. When he came back, he looked hesitantly at the open door.
“Just don’t think about it,” Cat said, “that’s what I do when I really don’t want to do something, but I have to do it anyways. Like taking pills. I used to have to crush them up in applesauce and even then....” She grimaced at the memory.
Jean nodded and walked in stiffly. Cat went to close the door behind him. He whipped around and caught it with his hand, eyes wide.
“Door open, got it,” Cat said, removing her hand from the knob.
“Thank you,” Jean whispered. She watched his fingers clench around the door for a moment before he exhaled. “Could... could you talk?”
Cat couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Talking is my specialty,” Cat replied, turning so she could sit against the wall. “This one time in high school, before I had my own bike, I really wanted to go...”
She heard the ruffle of the curtain as it was pulled back as Jean presumably stepped into the shower. Barreling on with her story, she regaled him with the basics of her high school friend group and their tumultuous, drama-filled, lives. Eventually the water cut off.
“I’m going to get back to breakfast. Join me whenever you’re ready!” she said, pushing off the wall to climb to her feet.
Returning to the kitchen, she flicked the boombox on and got back to work. Eventually, Jean appeared at her side, systematically cracking eggs into a bowl and discarding the shells without saying a word.
~
Jeremy walked into the apartment, aura significantly dimmer than when he left. Annalise had taken the wind out of him without uttering a word. A sculpted brow raised over a pair of $200 sunglasses as he descended the stairs was enough to make him stutter as he bade her good morning and he hated it. Don’t let them see you sweat, smile at their scorns, shake hands. He hated that he was applying the same tactics to her as he did to the Trojans’ rivals more than his own cowardice.
Stepping through the doorway always provided immediate relief. It was around the time Cat and Jean usually started making breakfast and he expected pounding music. Instead, he was met with Cat chattering away on the phone. Closing the door gently behind him, he took a few steps before stopping, confused at the sight of Cat sitting against the wall next to the bathroom’s open door. The shower was running.
“...and so I told him ‘if we’re gonna race we’re gonna do it my way.’ He agrees of course, as if he could be seen backing down from a challenge in front of all his friends. ‘Time and place’ he tells me, arms crossed trying to look all tough, you know?”
Cat took a breath and finally realized Jeremy.
“Oh, hey Jer!” she said, “I’m telling Jean how I totaled my bike in high school. I told you about it right?”
“Yeah,” he answered, remembered the vague tale of a yearlong feud and enough stitches to make him cringe.
He floated into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, half-listening to Cat while he tried to separate himself from the unfortunate start to his morning. He went through the motions, humming absently as he watched the swirls of cream billow into the dark coffee. Resting against the island, he breathed in the rich smell and leaned into the sunlight.
Jeremy was halfway through his cup of coffee when he realized how much time had passed, a solid ten minutes at least, and the shower was still running. As soon as he thought it, he heard the water stop. It was the longest he’d ever heard Jean shower, he realized. Perhaps it was an odd observation, Jeremy felt a little silly for having noticed, but they did live together and shower together after practice. Cat joined him in the kitchen, and he saw the look on her face was triumphant.
She poured two cups of coffee and set one aside for Jean as she stirred a dollop of sweetened condensed milk in hers.
“You...” Jeremy started, nodding towards the bathroom. “So he can...”
Cat nodded. “I’m smart, right? My big mouth being used for good,” she whispered with a grin. Jeremy gave her a look of approval, only letting the slight irk of not discovering it first linger for a moment. She moved past him to flick on the boombox before breaking into a dance. Jean walked in and Jeremy handed him his mug.
“So,” Jeremy started, “Did Cat scare you off biking yet?”
Jean rolled his eyes. “I would not be so stupid as to challenge someone to a street race.”
Laila appeared in the doorway with a loud yawn, gesturing towards Cat to share her cup.
“That’s what everyone says...until they’re challenged to a street race,” Cat said with a devilish grin. Laila slipped an arm around her girlfriend’s waist.
“Hey, you promised me,” Laila pouts, “no more street racing.”
“No more street racing” Cat agreed, albeit sticking her tongue out after.
~
She was sitting in the shade when Jean arrived at the coffee shop. She had been with a gaggle of friends who slowly trickled out of the café until it was just her. Only then did she approach him, slipping a napkin with her number across the table with the name Sierra printed above it.
Over the past couple days, Jean had noticed her. He considered her smiles friendly, though he did not reciprocate them.
“You come here a lot, don’t you?” she asked, but it wasn’t really a question. He’d gone with Jeremy before and now he stopped during his morning runs whenever he needed a break. Today he waited a longer than usual since his knee giving him a little trouble. It wasn’t anything of concern, nothing he couldn’t work through, but he remembered the nurse’s words of ‘careful’ and ‘be gentle with yourself.’
“I suppose” Jean replied.
“What’s your order? My treat” she said. Jean looked up at her. Her red hair was plaited in two long braids and her face was sunburnt. She looked like a strawberry. Jean felt immediately embarrassed at the comparison, almost like she could read his mind.
“Okay” he agreed and followed her inside and up to the register
“I’ll get an...” she glanced up at Jean.
“Iced tea, unsweetened” Jean said.
“For?” the cashier asked. Sierra looked at Jean again.
“Uh, Jean” he said. He watched her try the name out, mouthing the syllable silently. As they waited for his tea, Jean gave her his number to put into her phone rather than risk him losing the napkin. She was already holding her own drink. It was green and smelled iffy, but Jean tasted it anyways, when she offered him a sip.
“It’s sweet” he said, frowning in surprise.
“It’s the pineapple!” she exclaimed. “You’d never guess how much spinach you can get away with in a green juice if you just add pineapple!”
Jean wished they’d done that in The Nest. All the protein shake, supplement combination drinks he had choked down might have been more edible.
“You okay?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m good” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
They sat back down at a table outside. Jean felt the dry breeze ruffle his shirt.
“I used to go to the café down the street, but their blender’s been broken all week. Now, I’m glad I tried this place out” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
Jean was baffled by her boldness. It didn’t give himself enough time to think and it almost reminded him of Thea with her inability to beat around the bush.
“Me too” he said, unsure.
“You got Friday plans?” she asked.
“No,” Jean said.
“You should come out with me and my friends! You can bring people too!”
“I don’t really...”
“Come on, you’ve got to be new around here. Transfer students? Foreign exchange?”
Jean looked at her again. She was pretty, with big blue eyes. She was a good deal shorter than him and clad in a pair of denim shorts and tank top. He found himself admiring the softness of her body. He tore his eyes away before it became too obvious.
“Transfer,” he said.
“Well, can I show you a good bar?”
“I don’t know,” Jean said. Usually, he would’ve already said he didn’t drink, but there was something enticing about Sierra. “About bars.”
“I mean... maybe you could just come over for a couple drinks then?” she offered, though he could tell she was slightly put off by his rejection. “We could, I don’t know, watch a movie?”
“Okay,” Jean agreed, “I would like that.”
“Yay! It’s a plan!” she said.
Jean nodded, attempting a smile.
He ended up walking her home, giving up on the run entirely. She told him all about USC, like he had just gotten there. Some of the facts were new to him and others were old news. He didn’t correct her and say he’d been there all summer. Jean thanked her for her tips and suggestions as she walked up the steps to her house.
Standing at the top, she was taller than him. It seemed to amuse her to have a few inches on him. Jean just hoped she couldn’t see how uneven his hair still was from her new vantage point.
Tilting his face up, he let the morning rays warm his cheeks. Jean couldn’t remember if he’d ever kissed anyone in the day light, beneath the sun. Suddenly, he felt the urge to, like he had to cleanse himself of every other time before. He stepped forward.
“May I?” he asked. Sierra breathed a yes, leaning down. Jean captured her lips in a kiss, a gentle thing, soft. When he pulled away, she let out a quiet laugh, looking down at her watch.
“It’s barely 8am and I’ve already kissed my coffee shop crush,” she said, in disbelief. Again, Jean felt a bit bewildered by how openly she spoke.
“Text me,” Jean told her.
~
Sierra texted him about Friday night. Jean said he could do Saturday since the Trojans didn’t practice on Sundays. However, it was a weekend and Jeremy would be home. Jean brainstormed a plot to try and make it all work.
The team frequented a local bar, and it was packed every Saturday. It would be enough people that no one would notice him sneaking out, but they would wonder where he went. He had to find the exact moment to act.
Opportunity presented itself an hour into the outing when Cody started for the exit. Jean followed his teammates bright orange buzzcut.
“Cody, where are you going?” Jean asked, hoping they weren’t just heading home. That excuse might work, if only giving him an hour or so. It would be risky. If his friends came home and Jean wasn’t there it would be suspicious. Jean would have to be quick.
“I’m headed up the street to meet some people from class at a dive bar up there. They have a trivia night on Saturdays, it’s a lot more chill. You want to come?” they asked.
“Yeah,” Jean said. “Let me tell Jeremy.”
Jean disappeared into the crowd, ducking out of sight and waiting a few moments. He texted Cody to go without him, that he changed his mind last minute and was going to stay. Then he found Jeremy and told him he was going off to play trivia with Cody. By the time he left the bar he was so deliciously proud in his successful plan that he didn’t even think about how he was alone. The low buzz of threat still lingered as Jean recalled that he was tricking them and, in trn, was tricking his captain.
He wouldn’t get caught. It was as simple as that. Jean could not get caught.
Sierra’s house had a doorbell, so he pressed it, scuffing his shoes on the mat outside. With loose hair tossed behind her shoulders, Sierra was clad in a green skirt and top of two different shades. The colors were entrancing, and Jean like the way the silky material shimmered in the yellow light of the entry way.
They ended up in a living room space upstairs. The whole room was painted white: the walls, the ceiling, the radiator, the doorknobs. Sierra called it “the landlord special” as she plopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV. There was a tapestry hung on one of the walls and it was covered in geometric shapes that made Jean feel a little dizzy. Sierra brought him a beer, cracking one open for herself.
Jean thought he would hate the taste of beer, but it wasn’t awful. In fact, it was sort of mild. He blocked out how many calories he knew must be in it. It was easier to forget when Sierra snuggled into his side, her red hair smelling floral and sweet. They both began to pay less and less attention to the movie.
As they drank more, the lower they slipped into the couch until Jean was all but horizontal with Sierra on top of him. He didn’t feel out of it, not like the one time he had drunk liquor. Jean’s nose wrinkled at the memory, and he rested his chin on Sierra’s head, taking another deep inhale. He felt warm, maybe a little slower. Sierra shifted, pushing up and moving forward until her lips met his.
They rolled around on the couch for a while, Jean finding himself unceremoniously grinding into her, hitching up her skirt.
“Wait,” she breathed, and Jean recoiled. “No, I’m okay. But we should probably, uh, relocate.”
Jean nodded and with a sudden burst of inspiration, scooped her in his arms. She cackled, wrapped her legs around him and directing him to the proper room. He entered the dark room, laying her gently on her bed and toeing out of his shoes before joining her.
In the dark, it was easy to lose himself. He had never slept with a woman before. That was not something he had ever pursued at The Nest. It felt a little odd, to be approaching sex in the opposite manner he was used to. He tried to think about what he had liked, but that was dangerous territory. For a moment he got stuck, thinking of weight bearing down on him, and hands, and teeth and...
“Jean?” Sierra’s voice called. He snapped out of it.
“Sorry,” he said, finding her face and leaning down for another kiss. Sierra flicked on her desk light so he could put on the condom.
“On or off?” she asked, gesturing towards the light. He shrugged. His shirt was still on and the blankets were hiding the scars of his thighs well enough. She shrugged back and flicked them back off.
He exhaled once he was hidden in the dark again, and even stripped off his shirt. Then the memory of the sunlit kiss returned to him. The shifting breeze, the hot sun, the zoom of cars passing by. For a second the silence and false emptiness of the dark room was suffocating. Still, he didn’t ask her to turn it back on.
Perhaps Sierra had guessed Jean was inexperienced, as she guided his hands in the dark with gentle patience, whispering instructions in his ear until her words turned into gasps. Only then did her enter her. He could last, that was something he knew, but once he believed she was satisfied he let himself go. It didn’t take much more to send him over the edge.
Trying not to crush her, he caught himself with one hand to lean over her. Sierra quickly tugged him down regardless, Jean’s hands eagerly circling her breasts. They continued to make out for...well… Jean wasn’t sure how long. She was soft and nice and so different from anything he had experienced before. He liked the way the strands of her long hair tickled his chest and neck.
Eventually, the sound of drunken footsteps stumbling up the stairs drew them out of their stupor.
“Shit” she murmured, “my roommate. You locked the door?”
“Yes” Jean said.
“Fuck, she’ll still be pounding at it in a second. We should get dressed.”
“Yeah” Jean agreed, although he already missed the feel of her skin. In the dark, he tugged on his underwear and jeans as he knew they were discarded at the foot of the bed. He was searching for his shirt when she flicked the light on again. Shit.
Jean heard her gasp. As his eyes adjusted to the light, they settled on her astonished face. She was bundled in the light pink comforter, flushed and lovely and halfway to afraid.
In the new light, he saw his shirt, snatched it up and threw it on while standing up.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, ashamed. Since when did he care about his scars? Jean tried to challenge himself. The sentiment was false. He knew the answer to down to exact day. Jeremy’s pitiful stare had burned into his subconscious and Jean knew he only had to look in Sierra’s eyes to see it duplicated.
“Wait, Jean,” she called out, crawling to her knees to reach for him but he was already heading for the door. He slipped into the living room, dashing past the scandalized roommates who squealed in excitement. Jean guessed she would tell them shortly about the disfigured man she had just let in her bed.
Getting back to the apartment was harder than he thought. Jean felt all turned around and ended up wandering for a while before he got home. At least the walk got rid of the slight effect of the beer and the self-pity he couldn’t believe he had entertained. Jean heard music as he pushed the door open. He almost ran right into Laila who was singing while wielding a whisk like a microphone.
“Jeannnn...” she drawled drunkenly, bending into a deep flourishing bow. Cat peeped her head out from the kitchen.
“You’re back!”
“I am back” he agreed.
“How was trivia?”
Jean shrugged, looking past her to the open door of his room. He could see Jeremy’s naked back as he changed into a t-shirt to sleep in. It was golden tan and void of all imperfections. Jean couldn’t see the freckles from where he stood, but he knew exactly they were there.
“Cat?” he asked, a sudden feeling of nausea and disgust sinking into his skin. He could feel every scar.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me about what happened, after I left?” he asked, heading towards the bathroom.
“Sure!” she said, always delighted to tell him another story. Bag of chips in hand, she flopped down next to the wall outside the bathroom and began chatting away. Jean turned on the shower and stripped before stepping into the still cold water. It warmed up as it pattered against his chest while Cat told him about arm wrestling the bartender.
When the water cut off, Cat offered a goodnight, her footsteps following Laila’s to their room. After drying his body and brushing his teeth, Jean realized he didn’t bring any clothes. Jean scrubbed his hair with the towel before wrapping it around his waist and walking to the own room. Jeremy was sitting in bed, on his phone. He looked up at Jean’s entrance.
“Hey! You have fun?” he asked. Jean shrugged, putting on a pair of comfortable shorts and a random shirt. He still felt a little off. Why did I drink? Why did I let my guard down? How could I be such a child?
It was no surprise the nightmares found him that night, Jean should’ve known. Still, when he gasped awake, he heard Jeremy stir from across the room and had the audacity to be afraid.
“Jean?” he whispered. Jean was still focused on breathing. It’s Jeremy. It’s the apartment. I’m at USC. I am not there.
“Jean” Jeremy repeated. “Do you want to come over here?”
Jean did, he really did, but it wasn’t fair. Not to Jeremy, for him to let someone like Jean into his bed. Still, he craved it desperately. Slipping off his bed was a defeat, shame deafening every sound in the room besides his own heartbeat. Still, it didn’t feel wrong when Jeremy rested an arm so gently across his back. Oh, how he wished it did.
~
The next weekend Jean had let himself be dragged back to the bar yet again. He agreed on the premise of socialization and convincing the team he could be normal. I am norma,l he thought as he watched them goof around the bar, sloshing their brightly colored drinks on the already sticky floor. This is what is not normal.
Being the only sober person in the room did not only make everyone seem exceptionally more drunk, but it also made it obvious when another sober counterpart arrived. He got what looked like a glass of water with a lime from the bar. Jean watched him steal a little umbrella from his friend’s drink and put it in his glass without them even noticing. Then he looked up and caught Jean staring, his satisfied expression only growing. Jean tore his gaze away, but it was too late.
“Hey,” he said, walking over. “You the designated driver or something?”
“No, I don’t drink” Jean said. Sober guy raised an eyebrow. He had short dark hair with frosted tips that made Jean think of Jeremy. His smile was wide, full of large straight teeth. He reminded Jean of something, but he didn’t know what.
“Swimmer,” Jean blurted.
“Check,” the guy said with a nod. “How’d you know?”
Jean really didn’t want to say why he guessed, but he couldn’t help it.
“My friend Cat says that everyone on your team looks like some sort of aquatic animal,” Jean admitted with a wince. Sober Swim guy barked out a laugh. Some sort of seal, Jean thought. The big brown furry ones who snort on the beach.
“Well now I have to ask” he said, “What one am I?”
“A seal,” Jean said, because he was already thinking it. And he was right. The man’s eyes lit up, like Jean had said something a lot more intelligent than he really had.
“Okay, I can work with that. At least I’m a mammal, not something cold-blooded.”
He said cold-blooded in a funny way and gave an exaggerated shiver.
“Did you ever swim, you know, competitively?” he asked. Jean was floored. He knew not everyone knew Exy, let alone who he was, but a fellow USC athlete? Jean studied his expression and decided the man was, in fact, being truthful.
“No,” Jean answered. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than swimming in a race.
“Dang, I was gonna say you look like a...” he trailed off in thought. “Sea horse!”
“A sea horse!” Jean exclaimed. “That’s disturbing.”
Seal guy laughed again at his expression. “I was wondering if that would freak you out! I’m joking. No, you’re not a sea horse. You’re a...”
“I thought we clarified I’m not a swimmer”
“Shhh, I’m thinking...”
Jean felt slightly offended to be shushed. He had completely forgotten how absurd it was to be talking to this strange man in the first place.
“Got it! You are...a cormorant,” he said confidently, taking his pointer finger off his chin and swirling it at Jean.
“A what?”
“You know, one of those big black birds you see drying their wings?” Seal guy held out his arms in an imitation. “You got black hair and your wingspan is something to be jealous of. I can see you being a flyer, for sure!”
Jean was truly lost now but he nodded anyways.
“Enough with that. My name’s Julian,” he held out his hand. Jean shook it.
“Jean Moreau,” he answered, waiting for the realization to hit. It didn’t, though Julian’s eyebrows shot up.
“That’s such a sick name. French huh? I don’t even think I’m French-Canadian, just everything else in between.”
“Okay,” Jean said, again, very unsure of what Julian meant. Julian heard a girl call his name and rolled his broad shoulders back before turning to give her a wave. She gestured for him to come over and he flipped her off. “What?” Jean let slip.
“Oh, she’s fine. They know I don’t drink and probably need a ride home. Well, you better let me get your number in case I have to dash,” Julian said with a sigh, holding out his phone with his contacts open, like Jean already said yes.
“Okay,” Jean agreed and took it from him.
“I think you’ve said ‘okay’ to the past three things I’ve said,” Julian said, taking his umbrella out of his drink and giving it a little twirl. “You’re gonna have to be a little more creative over text because ‘okay’ turns into ‘k’ and I really can’t hold up a conversation with one letter responses.”
“Okay,” Jean said, fighting a smile down into a smirk when he said it. He handed back the phone, his contact typed in. Julian typed a quick message and gave Jean a salute before going back to his friends.
“*insert sex joke about seals here*“
The next day, Jean responded.
“Could’ve said something about ‘sealing the deal’” he sent, shamefully indulging the banter. Then he had practice for two hours. He completely forgot about the text until they were walking home, the setting sun turning everything orange. Jeremy and Cat were chatting about some show Jean knew nothing about and his phone buzzed.
“If we hook up, I’ll give you the seal of approval”
Jean choked on the mouthful of Gatorade he was sipping. Laila pounded on his back until he could breathe.
“You good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he croaked, furiously typing out a response.
“Tempting,” he replied.
“God, why’d I say you were a stupid bird. I don’t know any good puns about birds,” Julian sent. Jean was falling behind his friends as he texted and walked, so he picked up the pace.
“Who’s saying these jokes are any good, anyways,” he shot back.
“Fair,” Julian sent. “Let’s just get wet and wild then?”
Jean tried very hard to not let his face get hot. It was stupid, so stupid and juvenile and—
“Ew. That was a last-ditch effort at ocean humor. Forget I said that,” Julian messaged quickly.
“Said what?”
“Perfect. Jean Moreau, you are my kinda guy.”
“We’ve had maybe ten minutes of actual conversation.”
“Well something tells me you’re not really a talker.”
Jean had to agree with that. He shoved his phone back in his pocket for the rest of the walk.
He didn’t text Julian again for another week. Jean wasn’t in the mood to talk to a stranger when his friends were right there, but soon he found himself alone another night and sent a quick message.
“You’re right.”
“Yeah, I gathered that after you stopped responding,” Julian responded.
“I’m responding now.”
“This is true.”
The conversation wasn’t going anywhere and Jean flopped back against his bed. He wasn’t exactly disappointed but he was oddly restless. His phone buzzed.
“I’ve got a meet tomorrow,” Julian sent. “Everyone likes to get shit faced after.”
“But not you?”
“Yeah, but not me.”
Jean thought about it until he fell asleep. He awoke to Cat pounding on his door.
“Jean! Morning practice!”
Thankfully, Cat’s wakeup call gave him enough time to work with, but his phone had died during the night. He plugged it in to charge during practice. Why was I even texting him if I had morning practice? What am I doing?
Cat had him chopping up fruit for yogurt bowls after practice.
“Laila and I are staying at my parents place tonight, it’s Kostas’ birthday so we’re gonna be drinking and so we’ll just crash there.”
Jean nodded, scooping up some blueberries that had escaped into the sink when he rinsed them. He didn’t really like the idea of an empty apartment.
“I was thinking of asking Jeremy to stay, so you won’t be alone, or someone else on the team,” Cat started.
“No,” Jean cut in suddenly. “No, I mean. It’s okay. I can be alone.”
His phone suddenly felt warm in his pocket.
“Are you sure?” Cat asked, turning to face him. “I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine,” Jean said. Cat looked at him for another good minute before nodding. “Okay, then. I trust you to know yourself. But if you get...whatever... just call someone on the team. Cody could probably be here in minutes, okay?”
“I will,” Jean promised. He would, truly, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t have to. After breakfast, he shot Julian a text.
“If you need a place to stay, you can come over to mine,” he said. Then he froze. Was he allowed to invite people over? It wasn’t really his space, was it? Not really. The Trojans had been over and technically Neil had been inside. Jean bit his lip.
“Really? Thanks, that would be so great,” Julian sent back. Fuck. It was going to have to be okay, now.
Julian showed up that night in grey sweats and a t-shirt both sporting the USC Swimming and Diving logo. His hair was wet and looked darker. Jean was glad he looked less blonde, but he pushed that thought down. They went right to bedroom.
“So I’m staying here?” Julian said pointing towards Jeremy’s bed.
“No,” Jean said, a little too loudly. Julian laughed, quieter than he had at the bar.
“Good,” he said and jumped to sit on Jean’s bed, like he had done it a million times before, like it was his bed he was jumping into. Jean actually felt somewhat shy, as he approached, gently climbing up beside him.
“How’d you do?” he asked, just to be polite.
“Didn’t drop time, but that’s normal for a duel meet this early in the season,” Julian said, “Doubt that means much to you though?”
Jean shrugged. Julian was right. He didn’t know anything about swimming. Julian surveyed the room, tucking one leg up so it was pressed against Jean. His leg hairs were prickly, like girls’ were when they grew out from shaving. Jean wanted to run his hands down them, but he kept them in his lap for the moment.
“Exy?” Julian said, pointing towards the poster on the wall. “Wait. You play?”
“Yeah,” Jean said, startled. He had forgotten Julian’s ignorance of who he was. He was counting on it for the anonymity, but now that was out the window. Be a better liar, Jean, Jesus.
“Really?” Julian said, looking at him curiously.
“Are you surprised?” Jean asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.
“Yeah,” Julian answered honestly. “I mean, you have a face tat and the whole edgy thing. I don’t know much about Exy, but I’ve had a couple classes with some of your teammates. They seem kind of, I don’t know, sunshine and rainbows compared to you. No offense!”
“They would agree,” Jean said with a shrug. “Speaking of, uh, well...” Jean didn’t want to go through this conversation again. Biting the bullet, he took off his shirt and let Julian look at him. Julian bit his lip and then took off his own shirt.
There were noticeable splotches of scar tissue on his left shoulder. They looked ragged, almost torn. His skin was puckered around it, like parts of his muscle had been ripped out.
Jean wanted to ask about it but asking would inevitably lead to telling. Julian held out a hand and touched Jean’s shoulder, smoothing his thumb over a few of his scars. On the inside of Julian’s wrist were a few pale lines, neat and clean compared to the mess on his shoulder.
Oh, Jean thought. Then, box cutter.
“You can ask,” Julian said. “One came before the other. Want to guess?”
Jean didn’t, not really.
“Shoulder injury kept you from swimming, these came from that” Jean said taking Julian’s hand off his shoulder and turning it over, so his wrist was hidden from sight.
“Yep. But you’re only going to ask about the boring ones? Come on, everyone wants to know the story!”
“I don’t,” Jean said and kissed him to shut him up, still holding the other man’s wrist in a loose grip.
While Jean was taller than Julian standing up, the swimmer was all muscled torso while Jean got most of his height from his legs. His back was expansive and toned and Jean let his fingers trace over the smooth expanse.
Julian was ravenous in a different way than Levi. He wanted Jean closer and closer, eventually tugging him into his lap. Jean knew if he could get Ravens who despised him to moan his name, he knew he was doing something right and Julian kept up well. Finally, Jean had to push him back against the bed to get him to stop touching him and rode him out instead.
When Julian finally came, he reached for Jean again, but Jean caught his hands instead, pushing them down and rolling off to the side to lay down.
“Hey,” Julian said, once he caught his breath, “C’mon. Why’d you stop?”
“You finished,” Jean explained, though his voice betrayed him, posing it more as a question.
“But you didn’t? Man, you know what you’re doing, but you didn’t chase it. I saw you stop. You didn’t reach for it.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” Jean asked. Julian sat up.
“Fuck, no. I loved it. But, like, dude” he gestured at Jean’s remaining excitement. “Next time, go for it. It’s gonna feel good for me regardless.”
“Next time?” Jean asked.
“Oh, the night is still young” Julian said, turning over to crawl on top of Jean. They kissed, Julian’s tongue finding its way into Jean’s mouth as he slipped two fingers inside him. Julian flexed and curled them until Jean arched his back.
“Fuck,” Jean cursed.
“There we go,” Julian said, smugly. He teased Jean for a while, trailing kisses down his stomach and thighs as he pressed inside him over and over again. Jean writhed on the mattress, clutching at the sheets, at Julian’s hair and back.
“You’re teasing me,” Jean panted. It felt overwhelming, out of control. He felt wanton and wretched.
“If I let you on me again, are you gonna come?” Julian hissed, hitching up one of Jean’s legs.
“I don’t know,” Jean muttered, turning his face away. Julian added a third finger.
“I can help you find it,” Julian said, hitting the spot again. Jean groaned.
“I know where it is,” he said, his voice almost a whine.
“Okay, so let me ask you again,” Julian moved up, lips pressed against Jean’s ear. “If I fuck you again, will you come?”
“Yes,” Jean breathed.
Julian looked pleased as he sat back, guiding Jean onto his lap again. It felt like stealing, like he was a thief. He was grateful the room was dark as he switched the angle of his rolling hips and lost the ability to care about the expressions he was making. Julian’s hand gripped his torso, fingers digging into his flesh. Jean’s head dropped as sparks flew through him.
“Is that it?” Julian breathed. Jean could hardly nod. Strong hands guided him to do the same motion again and again and again. His legs tightened around the other man as he clenched forwards, spilling onto his chest.
“Jean?” Julian breathed.
“Fuck me,” Jean said.
“What?”
“You’re still hard so fuck me,” Jean said. Julian didn’t need to be told twice, flipping them over so he was pinning Jean to the mattress. It was quick and messy, past the point of pleasure. The sounds of their bodies was bad enough, but Jean’s own shuddering gasps were equally embarrassing.
“Holy shit,” Julian lowered the leg he had practically raised over his own shoulder. Jean’s hamstring was sore and stretched and he let out a sharp breath. The other man flopped down next to Jean.
Jean got up after a moment, not want to let the mess cool on his skin. Pulling a clean t-shirt from his drawer to wipe off with, he approached Julian. Instead of just tossing him the shirt, Jean did it himself and Julian hummed his thanks. Then he felt an uncomfortable but familiar sensation. Jean hurried to the bathroom to clean up more and by the time he came back, Julian was already snoring.
He put on a new shirt, knowing his scars would look worse in the daylight they would awake in. Jean shifted Julian over enough for him to get on the bed. While sharing a bed with Jeremy felt comfortable, the bed felt too small and far too warm with Julian. For one insane moment, Jean thought about escaping to Jeremy’s bed. Julian snaked one sweltering arm around Jean’s waist, the feeling simultaneously grounding him and making his skin crawl. At least it was better than being alone.
The next morning, Julian asked if he could shower. Jean said yes to the shower, but no to the invitation to join. Julian gave him a curious look before walking naked from the room to the shower. A futile effort. Nothing could tempt Jean enough to get under the shower spray with someone who was practically a stranger.
When Julian came back with a towel around his hips, he caught Jean's glance at his scar.
“Sorry,” Jean apologized. He hated when people pitied him for his scars, but Julian’s just made him curious. There was something a little unhinged about the other man. Jean used to think his housemates were crazy because of their never-ending joy and energy, but with Julian it was the absence of shame. Maybe it came from the lack of clothing his sport required; there had been nowhere for him to hide. All of his secrets had been out in the open for as long as they had existed.
Julian tugged on his sweats first before tossing his shirt over his shoulder instead of putting it on. Jean walked him to the door.
“No breakfast?” Julian asked.
“I can’t cook,” Jean lied. He was half sure Julian was joking anyways. Julian sucked his teeth before pulling Jean in for a quick kiss. They both had morning breath, but it was still nice. Jean wished it wasn't. Julian opened the door and stepped backwards into the morning sun.
“A seal, huh?” Julian said. “Your intuition is really beyond belief.”
“What do you mean?” Jean asked, confused. Julian pulled the t-shirt draped over his shoulder off in a languid motion, revealing his scar again.
“Shark bait,” he said, flashing a grin as he pulled it over his head. Jean’s face dropped. Disbelief was so sharp, he could have laughed. Julian was.
“You’re joking,” he said as Julian walked towards what Jean assumed was his car, pulling his keys out of his pocket and swinging them idly by his side.
“No, but it’s funnier than anything else we came up with, isn’t it?” Julian said with a snort. He hopped into the driver’s seat. “Au Revoir!”
Jean washed his sheets and remade his bed, double checking there was zero evidence of his visitor before Cat and Laila got home.
“How was it?” Cat asked, poking her head in the room after rapping her knuckles on the door frame. Jean froze, pillowcase in hand, before realizing she was asking about his night “alone.”
“Good." Jean stuffed the pillow into its case, discarding it on the bed. “Will you tell me how the party was while I shower?”
“You got it!” Cat said with a smile. “Laila’s so hungover. Let me tell you how it all went down...”
~
Jean awoke with his head on Jeremy’s chest, an experience he could not truthfully say was either rare or unfortunate, much to his own displeasure. He sighed, pressing his ear to Jeremy’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and his lungs inhaling and exhaling. There was even the faintest of snores.
Then Jean felt something dig into his stomach, something notably stiff. Jean held his breath for a moment, fingers subconsciously twisting in the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt. Jeremy shifted beneath him and Jean let go of his shirt as gently as possible, but it was too late.
It took him all of a few seconds to realize and then Jeremy was scrambling to sit up, Jean practically leaping off of him.
“Shit, sorry. I’m sorry, oh God,” Jeremy said, scrubbing his face with hand, his ears turning pink. Jean slid off the bed, giving him space to breathe.
“It’s fine,” Jean said, “Jeremy, it’s okay, I can handle it.”
Jeremy nodded, tension releasing from his shoulders. Jean gulped, stepping in between Jeremy’s knees, focusing on the bulge of his boxers. He slipped a hand under the waistband, giving Jeremy a stroke. His touch was tentative, but it was enough to send Jeremy jumping out of his skin.
“Is this okay?” Jean asked, searching Jeremy’s face for the problem. Jeremy’s brown eyes were wide, pupils dilated. He licked his lips before speaking.
“Yeah, yes,” he breathed.
Jean pulled his boxers lower before kneeling down to take him into his mouth. Jeremy’s moan was muffled, Jean guessed by his own hand. He felt himself stiffen as well as the tip hit the back of his throat. Swirling his tongue, he pulled back a bit before dipping down again. He grasped the sheets with one hand and the base of Jeremy’s cock with the other.
Part of Jean felt like he was still dreaming. He didn’t really know why he was doing this, but it felt right. It felt good to make Jeremy twitch under his touch, to cause him to bite back whimpers.
“Jean, I’m going to—" Jeremy warned breathily. Jean kept going until he could taste Jeremy spill across his lips. He swallowed what made it in his mouth and wiped the rest away with the back of his hand. Sitting back on his heels, Jean looked up at Jeremy as he tucked himself back into his boxers. He dropped back, propping himself up with one arm, eyes still shut.
Jean had never seen anyone look so beautiful. Jeremy’s knee was right in his line of sight. He had a tiny scar on one kneecap, the kind that everyone seemed to have from childhood. Jean wanted to kiss it. He leaned forward...
“JEAN! COME HELP WITH BREAKFAST!” Cat hollered. Jeremy’s eyes snapped open and Jean looked up from his knee to his face. He saw uncertainty and something else that Jean didn’t want to stick around to decipher. Disgust? Repulsion? Jean stared at the floor as he climbed to his feet, quickly tugging on a pair of black sweats to hide his erection.
“Let me brush my teeth first,” Jean called to Cat, as he exited the room. Jeremy didn’t even try to stop him.
~
“Um, no. I can’t tell you here,” Jeremy said, glancing around the coffee shop. He had practically dragged Laila from the apartment, throwing out an excuse of needing lattes.
“As if I haven’t spilled my dirtiest secrets to you in the dining hall surrounded by randos,” Laila scoffed. Jeremy gave her a look.
“This is different. Plus, I know you’re gonna freak. Let’s just get our coffee first.”
“You can’t say that I’m gonna freak and not immediately elaborate!”
“I’m going to elaborate...in the car. I come here all the time, I can’t—"
“Fine! Fine.”
“You’re going to think it’s gross anyways...”
“Jeremy!”
“Okay! I won’t say anything else.”
Once they were in the car, Jeremy started the engine it so they could get some air conditioning but stayed parked. Laila turned towards him expectantly.
“So?”
“Um-okay. To preface, you can’t tell anyone any part of this. Except for Cat. Maybe.”
Laila nodded, looking slightly more concerned.
“Okay, so sometimes Jean gets nightmares and the past few weeks I’ve just sort of let him, sleep with me if he wants to after he gets one.”
“Jeremy, that’s so sweet! Wait, how are you fitting a 6-foot-whatever backliner in your twin XL?”
Jeremy let out a small laugh.
“Well, it’s not every night. It’s not even most nights. Anyways, he kind of just, lays on top of me and like...” Jeremy finished his sentence with a hugging motion.
“Oh, damn. You’re in deep huh? You guys snuggle, but don’t even talk about it?”
Jeremy must’ve involuntarily made a face because Laila inched closer.
“Ohmigod, you did talk? You talked this morning?” she gasped. “What happened?”
“No, we didn’t talk” Jeremy said, covering his face. “Ahh, Laila.”
“Just tell me, just say it.”
“I might’ve, uhm, woken up with...you know”
“I don’t know.”
“Morning wood.”
“Ew, Sometimes I forget you’re just another man”
“Sorry! Sorry! I don’t have control over that. Plus, when you’re cuddling a really hot guy with a French accent, it just happens!”
“I’m just kidding, Jer, it’s probably fine. It was fine, right?”
“No, it was fine,” Jeremy agreed, taking a sip of his coffee. “I was like ‘oh I’m sorry’ because obvi it’s a little weird.”
“Right, right.”
“And he was like ‘no, it’s okay. I can handle it’.”
“See, no need to freak out!” Laila said, holding out her hands. “No harm, no foul.”
“Well, he said ‘I can handle it’.”
“Yeah, which means he’s good.”
“That’s what I thought he meant too!” Jeremy exclaimed, “But, no, he meant, he can handle it.”
“What?”
“And then he just hopped off the bed and suddenly his hand is down my pants....”
“What!”
“And I think he could tell I was a little shocked because he asked ‘is this okay?’ and I said yes because like ‘obviously please keep touching my dick’-“
“Oh my god!”
“And then all of a sudden I’m receiving the most insane blowjob I’ve ever gotten in my whole life. After, while I’m still tweaking, Cat calls him out to make breakfast and he’s just like ‘okay let me brush my teeth first’ and he leaves. Just like that!”
“Oh... my god.”
“You said that already.”
“I’m just in shock.”
“How do you think I feel!?”
“Wait, so you guys have been like moving in that direction then?”
“No, I mean, I want to, I guess we are now. I don’t know!”
~
“Cat?”
“Yes, Jean?”
Jean was especially pensive while he chopped up the onions, Cat had noticed almost immediately. She thought maybe it was one of his nightmares he had told her about, so she hadn’t asked. Jean scraped his chopped up onions into a bowl and started on the bell peppers.
“I think I may have...messed up.”
“Messed up, how?” Cat asked, looking up from her cheese grater and froze. Jean looked...embarrassed? His face was a shade of pink, different from the flush of rage that she would see at practice. It was kind of sweet. She knocked a gentle elbow into his side. “It’s okay, maybe I can help.”
“I sucked Jeremy’s dick,” Jean blurted, staring down at his hands.
“Oh!” Cat said before she could stop herself. “Wow! I mean, great!”
Jean glared her and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sorry, kid. It takes my brain a moment to process things before breakfast.”
“I knew I messed up,” Jean said, the knife clattering onto the cutting board. He reached up to cover his face and Cat had to grab his hands.
“No hands on the face after onions. Here, wash your hands. Wait, you washed your hands, right?”
“Of course I did!” Jean exclaimed, in horror. Cat cackled, throwing her head back. Jean went back to chopping vegetables with a renewed fervor.
“Jean, wait. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be joking. I don’t think you messed up though, what did Jeremy say.”
“I mean he said it was okay.”
“Just okay?”
Jean sent her a look so scathing, Cat took a step back.
“No! He said ‘okay’, like yes. Yes, I could, you know.”
“Right. Got it. Okay.” Cat promised, though she let out a small snort of laughter.
“Whatever,” Jean lamented. “He ran out of here with Laila, you saw that.”
“Well, did you guys talk about it?”
“No,” Jean said, like that was the oddest thing she’d said yet. “We were sleeping then I asked because he—This is weird to talk about.”
“Okay, you don’t have to. But why do you think you messed up?”
“I don’t know. Because we are friends and then he ran out of here, but I don’t know.”
“Do you do that to all your friends?” Cat asked, thinking it was interesting Jean referred to Jeremy as just a friend when they had clearly just passed that threshold.
“No, of course not. Mainly, not my friends.”
“Oh” Cat said dumbly. She cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started to whisk.
“As if I would be friends with Levi from Tau,” Jean said, offhandedly.
“Huh? Levi from what? You? And Him?” Cat’s brain short circuited.
“Yes, just once,” Jean said with a shrug. “He invited me over when I was walking back one time. I couldn’t then, but I gave him my number. I went over the next day.”
“You didn’t say anything!” Cat said. “So sneaky!”
Jean scoffed.
“Not really. I mean after you guys saw me give my number to Julian from swim, I thought—"
“You gave your number to Julian? Shark bite Julian?”
“You were there! And I didn’t know he was ‘shark bite’ Julian! I told him he looked like a seal!”
“Yes, I was there but—Wait. A seal?”
“We also... It doesn’t matter.”
Cat was starting to realize it was very much did matter, but she decided to focus on getting more information instead.
“Okay, anyone else I need to know about?
“A girl from the coffee shop, Sierra. She has red hair.”
“Sierra. Red hair. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Yeah, it didn’t end well,” Jean admitted, pausing mid chop and laying down the knife. “She saw my scars after, and... I just left.”
Cat gave him a sympathetic look.
“Screw her then,” she said.
“It wasn’t her fault...”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault either,” Cat said, waving the block of cheese at him.
“No one needs that much cheese,” Jean said, changing the subject and pointing at the mound she had shredded.
“Lies. I need this much cheese. Maybe if you ate more cheese, you couldn’t be sleeping with people like Levi from Tau,” Cat said, pretending the factors were correlated. She liked getting into baseless arguments with Jean. It reminded her of being at home and bickering with her siblings. At first Jeremy had tried to break up their spats, before he realized they were harmless fun. Still, Cat didn’t want to move past the topic of hookups just yet.
“Laila said that if they didn’t live in the house, it wasn’t as bad,” Jean argued. “And it’s not because it’s cheese, it’s because it’s the awful yellow American crap you insist on using.”
“Hey! It melts the best! And I don’t think not living in the house takes away from the frat bro of it all. You can’t honestly tell me he was any good,” Cat said.
“No, he really wasn’t,” Jean admitted. He paused for a moment. “That’s when I first asked you to tell me a story.”
Cat looked up at him, lips pursed.
“I knew something was wrong that morning. I knew it” she said, flicking the stove on and buttering a pan.
“Nothing was wrong,” Jean muttered.
“You smelled like sex and Old Spice,” Cat said, “and you were not okay. Do I need to beat him up?”
“No,” Jean said. “I can handle myself.”
“I know,” Cat said, pouring in the egg mixture into the pan with a sizzle. “But just so you know, it wouldn’t be a favor for you. It would actually be fulfilling one of my lifetime dreams of kicking frat bro ass.”
She smiled at him, but Jean didn’t return it. He busied himself dropping in the vegetables.
“I had sex with a man once,” Cat said, suddenly inspired. “I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t his fault. I just wasn’t into it, but I did it because I wanted to. I don’t think I even cared at that point, about not liking men, but I just wanted to see. Just in case. Still, it didn’t make me feel very good and that’s okay.”
“I do like men,” Jean grumbled. “And women.”
Cat hummed in response, sprinkling a hefty handful on cheese into the pan.
“And sleeping with them?”
“I get off,” Jean said crudely. “They get off.”
Cat nodded, tongue sticking out in focus as she folded the omelet in half before transferring it to a plate. She regreased the pan and poured in more egg, letting Jean stew in the silence.
“And you like that?” she asked, finally. Jean rolled his eyes and scoffed.
“No, seriously. That leaves you feeling good? Aside from the physical part?” Cat persisted. Jean looked away. As his eyes glazed over, she could imagine him clicking through the events like the slides of a projector. Cat felt a rush of guilt, wishing she could snatch her words back, but it was too late.
“That’s... not the point,” he said, hesitantly.
Onions. Peppers. Jean chewed his lip. Cat added less cheese to his omelet, just the way he liked it.
“Is the point to feel bad?” she asked.
Suddenly the front door opened. Jean and Cat looked up at one another. The question hung in the air, but Cat abandoned it to mouth “just relax” instead.
“I’m going on a run,” he said quickly. “Don’t tell them, please,” he added under his breath.