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Jeremy eyes the small black box warily. “Jean, what is this for? You’re not meant to give presents to others on your birthday. At least, like, not unless you have the same birthday, which we don’t so there is no need for-”
“I want to give this to you, and as you have all insisted many times, on my birthday I can do what I want,” Jean responds, Jeremy’s own words twisted against him in a way he is only too happy to allow.
Jean turns from where he brews their coffees and leans back against the kitchen counter, and Jeremy drinks in the sight before him. Jean’s body is arranged casually and he looks relaxed, languid in a way the Jeremy who had driven his broken raven home from the airport couldn’t have dreamed to see. He looks strong, nourished, eyes finally free of the dark circles that lingered so long.
His thin black tee grabs and floats in all the right places, the gold anklet Laila and Cat gifted him this morning visible under the rolled cuffs of his faded jeans. Tousled curls escape from beneath the burgundy beanie Cody had crocheted and given him on their birthday lunch date. Jeremy was loath to miss it, but captain’s duties can’t always be avoided. Cody’s friendship was something Jean treasured, and Jeremy knew the two of them would enjoy their time together regardless of his presence.
“You are staring,” Jean smirks, drawing a guilty laugh from Jeremy.
“How could I look anywhere else when my boyfriend looks like this?” He waves his hand up and down in the direction of Jean’s body, earning an eye roll for his troubles.
“Stop delaying, Jeremy. Open the box.” Jean orders in that firm tone and French accent that makes his knees weak, and Jeremy complies. His hands still when he sees two silver cuff earrings twinkling up at him.
“Oh, Jean, these are beaut-" the word dies on his tongue as he looks up towards Jean, who has removed his beanie and is tucking misbehaving strands of black hair behind his ears. His lobes, the unpierced ones Jeremy nipped playfully at only this morning, are now adorned by a pair of silver cuffs identical to the ones in Jeremy’s gift box.
Jeremy is frozen, mouth agape, caught between the burning desire to throw himself at Jean and the inability to feel his legs.
Jean smiles, slightly abashed, a small genuine thing Jeremy has never and will never be able to get enough of.
“Wear them for me?” he asks, head tilting ever so slightly, and what kind of question is that?
Jeremy quickly replaces his old hoops with his newly gifted ones, turning his head this way and that for Jean’s review.
“Much better,” Jean nods, satisfied.
Jeremy holds Jean’s gaze, equal parts adoring and hungry, as he closes the distance between them. They move in tandem, cradling the other’s neck, angling their chins ever so. Their fingers trace hems and settle on opposite waists as their breath mingles and lips meet, every tiny contact and adjustment a physical manifestation of a shared, unspoken desire to soften and yield and merge into a single entity. Jeremy’s pinky hooks through Jean’s belt loop as he sighs happily before opening his mouth to Jean’s kiss, and he melts into the arms of the man who shows him every day, special occasion or not, what it means to be truly, madly, deeply loved.