Chapter Text
Jean
He and Jeremy had… they'd had sex. Not penetrative but— it was still sex and he had been naked he'd seen all of him— and Jeremy had seen all of him. He didn't run away, he hadn't been repulsed and disgusted or shoved him out of their bed.
He had known he wouldn't but— he was still surprised. That Jeremy would want to do it again. That he could touch him so gently and with so much passion that— and tell him he was beautiful and that he loved him. Even though he would probably never be able to smile fully on one side of his face after having his cheek pulled apart. Even though he had more scars than smooth skin. Even though there was a count of how many people had raped him on just one occasion in a row carved into him. A count of dozens probably more. Jeremy hadn't decided—
He still wanted him. Not in the way they had, a cruel painful way meant to hurt and degrade where his pain and suffering had been the goal. Meant to destroy every fiber of his mind and body. Until there was nothing left.
But when Jeremy looked at him… it made him feel warm and alive it didn't fill him with a cold fear that made him wonder if he was dead, and unsure if that would be better. Or the dull and hollow acceptance that it was going to happen so might as well go along with it. To not fight back because if he did it would be worse and if he didn’t maybe it had been his choice. Jeremy made him feel… everything, his eyes and words alone were…
A caress of his hand, his gasping breaths in his ear, the giving of pleasure not taking it, giving and wanting to give it back was— there was no comparing the two things they were so different.
And God he wanted to do it again, over and over. The way Jeremy looked… the way he looked at him.
He had caught glimpses of Jeremy naked before or mostly naked before in the locker room but that was very different, from seeing him. Being able to look as much as he wanted and not having to— he had wanted to touch and kiss every inch of his body, and he had been allowed to, to touch him and drink him in with his eyes.
And for whatever bizarre reason Jeremy had looked at him the same way.
It was weird having, family, again. He had two in a way, there was the Trojans, his friends reluctantly though he would never admit it, and then there was his sisters and Jeremy, even Kevin counted somewhere in that one too.
Kevin as a bonus sibling and Jeremy as his… as his. Partner? Lover? Boyfriend? Maybe more one day.
With his sisters though, and Kevin there was significant distance separating them. He didn't see them daily, which meant he didn't find them as annoying. Except for Kevin, they would always be annoying, it seemed to be their entire purpose. He cared about Kevin but he couldn't look at him without being reminded even if that reminder was small and could be pushed away, sometimes it was too huge to ignore, so distance was good.
But he did wish they were closer. Marianne and Claire that was, Kevin could and should stay where they were, he wasn't ready for any closer and the occasional text was more, way more than enough.
Apparently, the distance was too much for Marianne as well and she purchased a vineyard in Northern California. It would be a part of the new treaty and arrangement with the yakuza, she would be allowing the vineyard to be a front for Moriyama's money and allow a percentage of the profits to go directly in them, as a tribute for doing business on their territory. But the Moreau family would retain 60% of the proceeds from the vineyard.
She explained the arrangement over the phone with disparaging marks about American wine, "I doubt it will be better than our vineyards in France, but American wine has become quite well spread, even award-winning, it is a travesty. But, we shall have somewhere to stay. Somewhere stable, for Claire. I, of course, will spend much of my time in France but we shall have a base here as well, we've strengthened our ties to the Moriyamas."
Jean was still Moriyama's property, that deal hadn't changed, but there would not be repercussions for his family reinvolving themselves in his life. His deal looked more and more like Neil's, though the Moreau's were still vassals to the Moriyamas.
"It is still a drive but so we shall maintain the safe house, you two are free to use it if you require. Please clean up after yourselves if you cannot refrain from whatevering on all of the furniture. And you must visit us at the vineyard, on occasion." The words were like it was an invitation but he was pretty sure it was an order from the tone.
He made arrangements with them to visit once they were settled and said farewell.
He was a fan of the idea that he and Jeremy would have somewhere to go to get away, like the safehouse when no one was using it, somewhere that the pests wouldn't be able to bother them.
Jean wished it was still summer. Classes were tedious he saw little point in them, exy was all he was bound for, what did it matter that he learned about rocks or literature or whatever else the courses seemed to be about. Frustratingly, he was unable to just find someone to pay to do it for him. Jeremy looked at him with puppy eyes, offered to help, talked about learning, academic integrity, and being well-rounded, whatever. And he looked so hot doing so so he would go with it
They had yet to lose a game. Through Jean was getting into near-daily screaming matches with one of the other Trojans about past performances, when it had come too close.
He still hated water, and he hated that he hated it. He used to love it, used to laugh in the waves and blink salt out of his eyes after letting them crash over his head. Now the thought made him want to puke and run in the opposite direction.
It was getting easier though, Gregory helped, not that it wasn't weird to have a dog stare at him while he was naked in the shower, but it did help.
And he didn't have a panic attack every time now, still sometimes but— he was getting better. And he wanted to keep getting better, push himself, experience new things, even just to try.
"How would you feel about showering?" He blurted out to Jeremy without context.
"I do it everyday day why do I smell?" He not so subtly smelled under his arms.
"I mean with me." Jeremy blinked twice opened his mouth and then closed it again.
“Oh, I would like to. In what context, sexy times or just…" He trailed off/
"Just showering, that's it. For now, at least I don't know if… it's still something that's hard and I freak out sometimes, a good chunk of the time. I just… you help with a lot and I want to… it's stupid, forget it.” He tried to backtrack.
“It isn't stupid. I'd like to, I’d like it a lot.”
Jean nodded slowly.
“Do you want to leave clothes on?” Jeremy asked gently.
Jean thought about it, he hadn't even considered it as an option to do that. But that option made a knot of tension and nervousness unravel, he didn't even need to be naked for this, however was fine. He nodded. Jeremy stripped down to just his underwear and the pounding in his chest was equal parts anxiety about water and the way his heart sped up at the sight of Jeremy in any state of undress.
He left a t-shirt and boxers on. Better safe than sorry.
"This okay? I can put on more clothes or less or if you—"
He silenced Jeremy with a graze of his lips. "This is good, perfect."
They stepped into the shower and Jeremy faced him, facing away from the showerhead and water plastered his shirt and shorts to his skin.
He could do this.
"Okay?" Jeremy asked. The water was streaming down his back, water droplets clinging to his bronze skin and his fading teal hair. He wasn't afraid of the water, of course, why would he be?
But he blocked it from him. And even in the terribly unflattering florescent lights, he seemed to glow.
And if showers weren't such a terrifying place he would have kissed him. And more, much more.
He made an effort to keep his eyes above his waist. Not lower where fabric was plastered to his body.
He flinched when a drop of water hit him in the face, a sharp gasp escaping that he wasn't able to hide.
"Hey," Jeremy murmured reaching out, "I'm here, I won't let anything harm you okay?"
"I know," he let out a ragged breath and kissed the palm of Jeremy's hand.
"Do you want to actually shower and soap and stuff or just kinda, I don't know be in here?"
“Soap is fine," He laughed softly.
Jeremy's hands were light on his shoulders and didn't wander elsewhere, and it was enough that he was able to close his eyes for a moment and feel safe . To believe it.
Suds rinsed away and Jeremy leaned into his hands when he ran them over his shoulders and washed away the soap.
Hands touching his bare skin but gentle and soft in a way that made him almost want to cry.
This was… it was so different from… from all the other times. He banished those thoughts, the comparisons away before they could take over and cloud his vision. Taking Jeremy out from under his slick palms and turning the hands on his own skin into nails that bit in, rough and greedy, ones that hurt.
This wasn't that. It was Jeremy, smooth skin, and hands that were a caress, that didn't linger more than he wanted or wander where they shouldn't. That rubbed soap onto his shoulders through the shit, cupped his cheek, voice murmuring softly, reminding him of who he was with. That he was in this moment. It was Jeremy.
It didn't heal him or fix the cracks and all the damage. It didn't take it away, but it was healing, new memories, on top of old wounds. Better ones.
Jeremy tipped his head back and let him lather shampoo into his hair. He didn't ask to wash Jeans, he knew.
He tipped his head back into Jean's hands and he shielded his eyes as he rinsed the suds away.
Water sloughed off their skin when they turned the shower off and stepped out Jeremy laughing and wringing out his shirt before giving up on it as a useless endeavor and peeling it off and tossing it into the laundry basket.
Jean waited for him to turn around and make eye contact before throwing a towel at his face, Jeremy flipped him off with a muffled laugh and started drying off.
That had gone surprisingly well. Maybe it wouldn't go well next time, maybe it would go better, but he was willing to give it a try again and see.
Jeremy was pacing and muttering to himself making sharp turns as he went back and forth across the room. His hand nervously tapping at his side the other in an agitated grip on the back of his neck.
"Love?" He questioned gently.
Jeremy barely looked up mumbling under his breath.
He stepped in front of him blooming his oath not touching him but hands hovering on either side of his face "Remy?"
"Sorry, shit it's. Just… I've got so much to do and fuck. I don't know if I will be able to do it all and if I can't— and when I even start to try it's—”
“Hey, hey, breathe, have you taken your meds today?”
“Yes, no, yes fuck I can't remember and if I missed them it is going to take forever for them to be readjusted and effective again and—”
“Honey it's going to be alright,”
"It won't it won't I can't —"
Jeremy's breaths were ragged.
Jeremy always helped him. Always. He was able to calm him down, walk him through breathing, bring Jean out from whatever memories or time froze him, and refused to let him go. It wasn't why Jean loved him, there were a million reasons why he craved Jeremy like the sun, and sun he was denied for long. But the idea that he couldn't do the same for him, that he would be helpless to pull him out of his own, albeit different, spiral made his stomach twist
He rummaged through their produce until he found what he was looking for and thrust it into Jeremy's hands.
"Bite this,"
"What?" Jeremy stumbled.
"Bite it,"
Jeremy gave him a look but did as he said and bit into the lemon.
His face squinches up and he immediately spat it out.
"Oh god, what the fuck. Shit."
But he had stopped pacing and settled down next to him on the couch.
"Better?"
"Yeah, damn," Jackie had recommended it to him if he started to spiral as a way of jolting himself back to the moment. Guess it worked for Jeremy.
He got out a pen and paper, "Okay, I'm going to make a list of all the stuff and we can do it together alright?"
Jeremy nodded with a jerk, rattling off a few assignments' due dates, household tasks, exy duties.
Jean set about ordering things in priorities and circling the one's Jean or others could help with.
He sagged against him. "Thank you," he whispered so softly Jean could barely hear it.
He just squeezed his hand in response.
"That tasted awful though by the way,"
Jean snorted, "I think that's the point, making your brain screech to a halt and say what the fuck and snap out of it."
"Works well," Jeremy hummed, "I'm going to brush my teeth,"
There was a new dress code policy for USC athletes. Nail polish was not allowed for athletes unless they were women. The director of athletic affairs came into the stadium during practice to explain it and looked at people's hands. "You two are fine," He mentioned off-handedly to Alvarez and Ryn and their nail polish
"I thought you said only girls were allowed." Mack challenged in their defense, zir tone had gone abruptly cold.
"Yes well, you know." He made a vague gesture.
"What about me, can I wear nail polish," Artie's voice clipped.
"Yeah of course."
The room went dead silent. And the director continued either oblivious to the hostile energy directed towards him, or uncaring.
"Well, that was fucking bullshit," Jeremy announced to the silent lounge after the director left and they all got ready to head back after practice.
Jean checked his account on his phone briefly. "I agree, can we stop somewhere on the way back?"
"Yeah of course where?"
Jean had no fucking idea if he was honest, "Euh, Walgreens? Or like one of those makeup places?"
"Um sure? There's an Ulta or a Walgreens close which is better, what do we need?"
"Nail polish."
Jeremy grinned, "I love you so fucking much you know,"
Jean stared at the shelf of nail polish, well fuck if he knew.
He held his basket up against the shelf and just stuck his arm in and made a sweeping motion, dozens of bottles of nail polish tumbling into the basket, almost clearing out the shelf.
Jeremy raised an eyebrow, "I see you are super particular with your choices,"
"This seemed more efficient," he brought a basket absolutely filled with nail polish to the counter to check out. And stared the cashier down without blinking when she opened her mouth to say something.
The total cost was obscene, luckily combined with what limited amounts of money he kept from various sponsorships which were still quite significant, and the accounts Marianne had set up for him. It wasn't remotely an issue.
He wrapped an arm around Jeremy and rested his head on top of his for a moment before they headed out to his shitty car. Not really caring if there were cameras at the moment, feeling light and fueled on spite.
Jeremy had somehow politely summoned many of the Trojans into their room, no doubt kinder and less demanding than he would have. A sufficient amount had still shown though.
Jeremy dumped the bag of nail polish out onto the floor and he couldn't help but wince at the clang.
"Huh, what's going on here then," Alvarez asked while others seemingly needed no prompting to dive into the pile of paints.
"We are painting out nails, think of it as like a team bonding party, it was Jean's idea," Jeremy told them.
"I did not call it that," Jean grumbles settling down on the floor next to Jeremy.
"Oh, why?" Katsu asked
"Because I'm nothing if not a petty bitch." He held out his hand to Jeremy so he could start to paint his nails for him. “It's a lifestyle and a choice. Highly recommend.”
"What colors do you want?"
"Surprise me," As long as it was vibrant enough to make it stand out when he flipped off the cameras and athletic director.
It occurred to him as he had his wrist relatively limp in Jeremy's hands and he painted sparkly rainbow nail polish on the tips of his fingers, that if this was caught on camera. There wasn't going to be much denying that it, and he, was undoubtedly incredibly gay.
His gut twisted and dropped when Jeremy blew on the tips of his fingers to help dry them before reaching out for his other hand. His brain went a little fuzzy at the smirk in Jeremy's eyes
Decidedly homosexual, yes.
"Will you paint mine when yours are dry?" Jean was still staring at Jeremy's lips so had to blink a few times to process what he said.
"I won't be any good at it," His fingers were crooked and not suited for anything delicate, not anymore.
"You just need practice, and I'll love it. Besides, I pick at my nails like crazy so it won't last long and you can keep redoing it until you are the best at it."
A smile pulled at his face, at least the part of his face that still could. "All right then.
He did Jeremy's dark blue on his thumb and pointer fingers, purple on his middle fingers, and pink on his ring finger and pinky.
He beamed up at him in spite of the messy nail polish on his fingers and the details not being refined. Giving him a kiss on the cheek.
He glanced up half-heartedly at the rest of the Trojans painting each other's fingers and toes giggling like small children. Perhaps they were accidentally inhaling various nail polish fumes.
Some had opted for just plain black, others as random, weird, and obnoxious as they could. A fair number had opted for Trojans' colors, red and gold. The heterosexuals mainly.
"Boo, basic bitches," Alvarez shamed Tran and Nina as they did each other's nails in Trojan colors.
Nina was too quick to flip them off and ended up flicking metallic red nail polish onto Tran’s face much to the amusement of all the others cackling, no doubt inebriated by the noxious fumes.
"Jean— Jean, Jean, Jean, Jean—"
"What the fuck do you want Katsu?"
“Can I paint your toes?”
He had most of all of his toenails back by now, but not all, and he was fairly confident that whatever Katsu would do to him would dissolve the rest.
He responded in Japanese, "Are you going to be chill with the brands marking me as property of the Yakuza on my feet, and the tattoos?"
"Brands like…"
"Like metal was heated red hot and pressed to my flesh searing in a permanent scar. If you can read kanji you might be able to tell me exactly what they say otherwise…"
"Okay… never mind then," Katsu set the bottles of nail polish back on the pile gingerly and with great suspicion.
"Yeah no, not gonna ask about that," Lewis looked between them at the exchange, "You can do my toes Katsu,"
He kicked off his socks and thrust his feet into his lap.
Jean wrinkled his nose in disgust.
Teddy snorted at the exchange and continued painting Lewis's nails with care and dedication.
Gay as fuck.
It was the lingering eye contact and the blowing on his fingertips a little too long that made it gross.
When it was Jeremy that did that, it was hot, and great and beautiful. Watching Teddy and Lewis made him want to fling a pillow at them.
Katsu just kept painting Lewis toes and then looked up to where Lewis was almost lounging on Teddy making heated high contact as they "painted" each others nails but Jean was fairly certain they didn't need another clear coat or it shouldn't take that long. "Is there like, something, I don't know kinda gay going on there?" He asked in Japanese.
Jean just stared at him.
"I mean I know I've talked to him about stuff with Teddy but like theoretical and that looks pretty, you know gay gay, like physical. I think he's going to start like sucking on his fingers or something? I feel like me touching his feet right now and painting his toes would make that super weird, in a way I'm not comfortable with. So is that about to happen? You know more about gay stuff. And like I'm new to it. And this probably isn't my thing so–"
"Just stop talking, please." Jean grimaced and looked away.
He didn't dare look at the other couples after Alvarez made a loud point about having two fingers on both their and Laila’s hands filed down short and round complete with some crude finger waving.
Way more information than he needed to know.
"Can we paint Gregory's nails?" Artie asked in the middle of giving him belly scratches.
Jean wasn't sure but he knew the fumes and whatever could be toxic so didn't want to risk it, "I don't know if it's safe for dogs and I don't want him to like eat it or lick it or anything."
"Fair enough good point, we should just paint like a water bowl or something for him instead,"
Jean shrugged he didn't see the harm in that idea.
The day ended with Gregory having a new brightly painted water dish and almost every Trojan with some form of glittery and obnoxious nail polish on. And an… Interesting, understated abstract design from flecks and drops of nail polish on their carpet. Oh well.
It was a good day. There were more good ones than bad ones lately and that still came as a shock. It didn't make the bad ones hurt any less but the bad ones didn't make the good ones any less good either.
And that was something