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Naturally, the so-called party had been Cat and Laila's idea. Jean had long forgotten what the entire ordeal and concept of birthdays was. Not having celebrated one properly in five years. They hadn't been the most exciting prior to his arrival in the US either. But that was neither here nor there. His parents hadn't cared about him. He'd accepted it long before he'd left Marseille. Even if it still stung.
So, naturally, Jean hadn't seen the fuss or need to have a party for his birthday. It was a normal day, just as any other, and should have been treated as such. But he should have known better. Should have known such trivial things would matter to people like his fellow Trojans. So, despite his reservations and refusals he found himself sat around a makeshift pit fire in the back garden of his current residence while his teammates drank and exchanged stories of their past birthday experiences. Soft music droned on in the background from the girls' boombox.
They'd had a team dinner earlier and then retreated to the house for drinks and a mellow party. Jean didn't have any other friends after all. Renee had texted him this morning wishing him a happy birthday and he sighed deeply as he felt a flash of grief through his chest. He had missed her.
Kevin had texted him too. Jean hadn't opened the message yet.
Jeremy let out a booming laugh then and Jean's eyes snapped up from the fire to his face. He was seated across the space from Jean on the other side of the blaze. And Jean couldn't help the way his eyes kept drifting to the other man. Not just now, but the entire day. He remembered how just this same morning Jeremy had offered his well wishes, a gentle smile on his face as he handed Jean a gift bag. Inside were a pair of Jordan 1's. Jean had eyed them up in a shoe store his first few weeks in California when Jeremy and the girls had taken him shopping. Jeremy had caught him staring at them as the girls paraded around the store trying on sneakers "just for fun".
"They're fire," Jeremy had said, coming up to stand beside him.
Jean offered up nothing more than a grunt in acknowledgment before turning away. He had forgotten about it. After all it wasn't anything new for Jean to want for things he couldn't have. Most of the time it was just the brush of a mere thought that passed faster than it came. Just as it had been for the shoes. Not for Jeremy though.
Jean had clutched the bag tightly as soon as he recognised the logo and the shoe box after peering inside. He had wanted to throw it back at Jeremy and demand he take them straight back to the store. He knew just how costly they were, and he knew he didn't deserve them. But Jeremy's eyes had been so soft, if a little hesitant, a faint blush on his cheeks. It was as if he had expected Jean to throw them back at him. And Jean hated that. So, he'd accepted them with quiet thanks. Feeling something heavy settle in his chest as he sat admiring them when he was allowed a second of alone time, before being dragged out for birthday celebrations.
He looked down at his feet then, admiring the shoes in the light of the fire. They were grey with hints of navy blue at the top. He'd have to pay him back somehow, and make sure he took good care of them. Jeremy had grinned so brightly when he'd seen Jean step out their shared room with them on his feet. For that alone, keeping them was worth it.
It was getting steadily darker now. And Jean watched the fire lighting up Jeremy's face in a gentle glow across from him. His cheeks were a little flushed from the alcohol and the laughing. His hair tousling in the gentle breeze. Jean stared.
He fiddled with the bottle in his fingers needing something to do with the sudden restlessness he felt. Jean didn't drink. Had never tried it. But the Trojans (those of age) had stopped off for cases of beer and cider on their way back and Jean had been outed for his sobriety. Jeremy had touched his arm gently and asked, "Do you want to try it?"
Jean could sense from his tone that if he said no, nobody would bother him with asking or probing again.
He'd hesitated. Ravens were never allowed to drink. Kevin had only picked up his awful habits after joining the Foxes. And Jean had other ways of dealing with his traumas. Albeit, they might not have been any better. He never saw the need for alcohol. Steadily losing control of one's senses and reflexes did not sound pleasant or safe at all. He could easily let slip anything and then he'd be in more trouble. But something about how the day had gone had left Jean feeling a little curious.
The way the Trojans had celebrated him. His life, his birth, his being here among them. He felt the most relaxed he had in a long time. He'd looked back at Jeremy then. Jeremy smiled reassuringly before telling him, "I'll watch you; you can just taste some cider it's not very strong."
Jean gulped, before nodding his head.
"I need a yes or no, Jean" Jeremy had said, a little more edge to his tone. It was moments like those that Jean saw why he was regarded so highly and why he wore the title of captain so well. So much better than Jean had ever been used to.
"I'd like to try some," Jean had said. Surprised at the steadiness in his voice.
All in all, it was disgusting. He'd had maybe one bottle and was only a quarter of the way through another, sipping on water in between. It wasn't strong, Jeremy was certainly right about that. But Jean felt the slightest hint of a buzz, having never had the substance in his blood before. He mused that, though the taste was unpleasant, the sensation was not so bad.
He relaxed back in his chair and stared up at the sky. It was cloudless, surprising for the end of November, even though it was California. The stars were visible and scattered all over, akin to the freckles on the skin of a certain Trojan striker. Jean felt that little lurch in his chest again, as his eyes drifted over to the man in question once more.
He watched as Jeremy rose from his seat, placing his bottle down on the ground and excusing himself before heading back into the house. Jean sighed looking down again once more and before he knew it, he was up and moving. Following his captain. The team were all buzzed and busy chatting away, the music still playing on so nobody seemed to notice as he left. He slid the door shut behind him manoeuvring through the house until he found Jeremy in the kitchen.
He placed his bottle on the counter as Jeremy looked over at him from his place by the sink.
"Hey," he said softly, holding a glass of water in his hands. "Had enough of us for one day yet?"
Jean moved around the island in the centre of the room till he was leaning back against the counter, opposite Jeremy. He crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.
"I had enough of you all this morning."
Jeremy chuckled softly and Jean licked his lips. His feelings for Jeremy were undeniable, and steadily becoming harder and harder to hide. It didn't matter that he knew better than to let himself fall for another beautiful boy. Or maybe that was the whole butt of the joke. That after all this time he still didn't know any better.
"How are you feeling? The cider get to you?"
Jean felt lighter than he usually did, but also very slightly like he was wading through water. A sensation he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't unpleasant but it was new. He couldn't tell if it was because of the fraction of alcohol in his blood or the man in front of him.
"I am okay. Just an unpleasant taste in my mouth."
Jeremy smiled, amused, and held his water out to Jean, "Here, down this."
Jean eyed him carefully, reaching for the glass, his fingers grazing against Jeremy's as he took it from him. He felt his heart begin to race from the minimal contact. He couldn't tell if the sudden pounding in his ears was from the music coming from the back garden or from his heart beating in his chest.
Jean gulped down the water and when he looked back at Jeremy his gaze seemed fixed on something south of Jean's chin, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Jean lowered the glass and Jeremy inhaled deeply snapping out of his daze. He clicked his fingers.
"I know what else will help," he said as he moved towards the fridge, disappearing behind the door for a second before appearing, now carrying a cake box. He placed it carefully on the countertop by Jean's elbow and removed the cover. Jean stared down at him, raising an eyebrow in question.
"You didn't have any earlier," he pouted, rifling through the drawer in front of him coming out with a small spoon and then digging into the edge of the half-eaten cake. It was a tiny amount on the spoon, and he held it up to Jean. "Try some? The sweetness helps."
Jean wasn't one for sugar and sweets and cakes. Had gone back and forth and back and forth with Jeremy and the girls on this subject. But Jeremy was looking up at him with what Jean had just learned were called puppy dog eyes. He realised then that he would do just about anything for Jeremy when he looked at him like that.
He paused. He had been here before. A different beautiful boy looking at him like that. Asking him to live. Jean wasn't strong enough to fight it any longer.
Jeremy just happened to be holding the spoon in line with Jean's mouth, so feeling brave and reckless, he leaned down. He closed his lips over the spoon sucking off the cake and cream. It was barely even a bite. Sweet and fresh in his mouth. Surprisingly pleasant. He kept his gaze on Jeremy. Both their eyes locked.
Oh.
He pulled back slowly, watching Jeremy gulp and chuckle nervously. He shoved the spoon back into the cake, digging out a bigger piece this time before haphazardly shoving it down his own mouth. As if distracting himself from something.
"It's good right?" he said around the mouthful, swallowing thickly, his eyes skittering over Jean's face.
Fresh cream lingered on the corner of his mouth and Jean moved closer. He watched as his hand lifted of its own accord, his thumb brushing against Jeremy's lips to collect the stray smudge of cream.
Jeremy swallowed again and Jean moved his thumb to his own lips, sucking the cream off. Jeremy's lips parted.
Jean said, "It's good."
They were so close now. Barely a breath apart. Jean didn't realise how close he'd moved. Jeremy dropped the spoon and turned his body fully towards Jean.
Jean had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. He felt like he was drowning, and Jeremy's lips were the lungful of air Jean needed so desperately to survive. He was familiar with drowning after all. Knew how it felt.
His brain registered the music coming from the garden. A sweet melody played while a man sung, emotion heavy in his voice, as he asked his lover to kiss him under the moonlight.
Jean felt like he and Jeremy were the only two people in the whole world.
He leant in even closer.
Jeremy's eyes dropped down to Jean's mouth, as he slowly licked his lips. Jean was entranced. He wanted to touch him again. He wanted him to look at Jean’s eyes the way he was looking at his lips. Gaze heavy and heady with want. He moved his fingers to rest under Jeremy's chin, tilting his face up so his deep and dangerous brown eyes landed on Jean's.
He blinked, his long and equally brown eyelashes brushing ever so softly against his cheeks. Jean was so mesmerised. He was sure nobody had ever looked this beautiful before. Certain nobody ever would. He searched the other man's eyes, a silent question in his gaze.
May I?
Jean's heart skipped as Jeremy's eyes suddenly grew a fraction brighter, his pupils dilating. His eyes were so dark it wouldn't have been noticeable unless Jean was standing as close as he currently was. Jean wondered how many times he'd missed it before. They'd never been this close.
Then he was nodding, ever so slightly, and Jean thought he might have missed that too if Jeremy's chin wasn't resting in his fingers. Jean felt a flash of hesitancy then. This was a brand-new sort of territory he had never entered before. Something he coveted for years and years, but never quite managed to get his hands on.
He'd never kissed anyone before.
His heart skipped again, and he swallowed thickly at the notion that Jeremy Knox, sunshine personified, was going to be his first.
Jean hadn't felt the sun on his skin for so many years and now here he was, head tilted up towards him as his eyes slipped shut. Jean's hand moved, his thumb brushing once more against the corner of Jeremy's mouth, his breath no doubt hitting Jeremy's cheek. He could see the scatter of freckles on his skin so much clearer now. The different shapes and sizes, a work of art, as if the artist had flicked a brush of paint over this wonderful canvas.
"Jean," Jeremy breathed out. So quietly Jean wouldn't have heard it over the soft music and chatter if he wasn't so close. But his name falling from Jeremy's mouth was so clear in his ears.
A word fluttered through Jean's mind; an emotion pulled at his chest.
Then he was moving once more, inhaling deeply through his nose as he finally pressed his lips against Jeremy's.
It was clumsy, unsynchronised, too harsh.
Jeremy let out a soft noise of surprise. The force of Jean's mouth knocked him off balance and he stumbled back, but Jean's other hand was there to catch him in a heartbeat. Spread flat across the small of his back, pulling him close as their chests bumped together.
Jeremy's hands flew to his waist, gripping his shirt tightly as he pressed back. Their lips were practically smushed together and Jean knew he was doing this all wrong, but he didn't care. Jeremy's mouth was warm and wet under his and it was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt in his life.
A hand cupped his jaw, and he jumped at the sudden contact, his brain taking a second to register that it was just Jeremy. He relaxed instantly, as Jeremy's fingers skittered across his skin. Relieving some of the pressure against the other man's mouth.
Jeremy took control then, pulling back ever so slightly, softening the kiss until their lips merely grazed over each other. Then, he pressed in more firmly, not as harshly as Jean had, but still very much there. He sucked softly on Jean’s upper lip, while Jean took Jeremy’s lower lip between his own. Jean wasn’t sure how long they continued to kiss this way, Jean following Jeremy’s lead.
But then Jeremy’s tongue darted out, ever so slightly brushing against Jean’s lips as he continued to kiss him. Jean sighed into his mouth, the sensation of that slight touch spreading oh so pleasantly from his mouth all the way down his spine. His mouth opened wider, and their tongues grazed against each other. Jeremy let out the most beautiful sound Jean had ever heard. Jean inhaled sharply, swallowing that sound, his nose pressed against Jeremy’s.
Jeremy’s breath stuttered and he pulled back. Jean fought to catch his breath too. His chest heaving. He kept his eyes clenched shut, afraid that if he opened them this would all just be a dream. And he’d have to go about the day all over again, only knowing how it felt to kiss Jeremy in his head. His heart was racing, and he was sure Jeremy could feel it where their chests remained pressed together. He was so warm in Jean’s arms.
Jeremy nudged his nose with his own, and Jean’s eyes flashed open instinctively. He breathed deeply. It was real. Jeremy was here. He was really here, and he had kissed Jean. Jean had kissed him.
The man in his arms smiled, a grin splitting his face as he continued to stare up at Jean, still softly stroking at his jaw. Jean tilted his head further into his touch, and Jeremy let out another sound, somewhere between a laugh and a surprised exhale of breath. He was so beautiful, so warm, so…
He was everything.
As if of the same mind, they both leaned in again, and this time it was more. Jeremy’s lips and tongue, sucking over Jean’s lip again. Until he opened his mouth once more, and Jeremy’s tongue darted in, licking inside his mouth. Jean mimicked his movements, pressing forward, pulling Jeremy closer. His hand was now gripping the back of Jeremy’s neck, tilting his head back, fingers threaded in the soft hairs at the base, pulling him as close as physically possible.
The kiss was wet, and messy. The sucking sounds of their lips filled Jean’s ears, over the slow song still playing in the background, in the best way as Jeremy moaned, the sound vibrating through Jean’s chest. Neither of them could get enough, and everything seemed to stop and start where their mouths met. Jean was sure nothing could get better than this. Nothing would ever feel like this. Jean knew he would spend every second of his life that he wasn’t kissing Jeremy just waiting until he could do it again.
His heart thudded in his chest, the muscle clenching in a way it never had before. In that moment Jean was glad. He was so glad that he was still here, that he was still breathing, because now he knew what it felt like. To be wanted, to be desired, to be cared for, to be loved.
Somebody cleared their throat and Jeremy jumped in his arms, pulling back with a soft gasp. Jean’s breath stuttered as he stilled, watching as Jeremy turned his head to the right, his eyes widening at whatever he saw.
Jean turned his head to find a room full of Trojans staring at the two of them, their mouths open, eyes bulging in shock. Some wore menacing and amused grins. Jean’s eyes came to a stop on Cat and Laila. Cat’s eyes locked onto his and her eyebrow lifted in question.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.
Jean grumbled under his breath in French, something about rude unmannered children, then lifted Jeremy off the floor. Jeremy let out a yelp, his hands moving to grip Jean wherever he could, his shoulder and waist, his feet hovering a few inches off the floor. Jean moved fast, out the kitchen and down the hall taking Jeremy with him. He had buried his face into the space between Jean’s shoulder and neck and Jean could feel his hair brushing softly against his cheek. He reached their room and kicked the door shut, just as chorus of protests and demands from shell shocked Trojans followed them down the hall.
Jean shut it all out and gently set Jeremy down to the floor. He stumbled a little before righting himself with Jean’s help. Then he was laughing, a hand leaving Jean’s shoulder to cup over his mouth.
“They are so nosey,” Jean said, irritated.
“They’re about to be so much more annoying than they already were,” Jeremy said, amusedly.
Jean huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes, his hands stroking up and down Jeremy’s back absently.
“Hey,” Jeremy said softly, and Jean looked down at him. He was blushing, his cheeks a beautiful rosy red, under the moonlight now streaming in through the window. “Happy birthday, Jean.”
His eyes slipped shut as he leaned up, and Jean met him halfway, breathing a quiet merci against his lips. Jean had gone through his whole life thinking he was better off dead, wishing he could be. But now he thought perhaps he had found something worth living for. Jeremy Knox was worth living for.
No birthday would ever get better than this, because, for the first time in his life, Jean had never felt so alive.