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Even Jean had to admit that it had been a difficult game against the Washington Huskies, not because they were exceptionally good players but because they were good readers. It was obvious they studied their homework well, and along with the advantage of playing on their home court, they made sure the Trojans worked hard for their win tonight. Jean’s legs burned with every step of the stairs he took to reach his and Jeremy’s room, which happened to be on the seventh floor of this godforsaken hotel.
It was equally annoying as well as pleasant, for him to turn into a stranger to the concept of pain with every passing day. Pain and discomfort had been so intertwined with him for years, imprinted deep inside his bones as insidious reminders of what he thought he deserved, that their absence made him lose his balance at first. At least until it was filled with sunshine and rainbows. Now, Jean was sure his feet had never landed stronger on the ground.
Jeremy was a few steps ahead of him, murmuring mostly to himself as he counted every step in French. Jean didn’t know when this became a habit for him either, placing Jeremy in front of him every time they took the stairs.
If he ever were to fall, I would catch him.
“You missed a number.” Jean said with warmth that never failed to fill his chest every time he heard Jeremy speaking his mother tongue.
Jeremy halted abruptly, clearly not expecting Jean’s sudden talk, then huffed in defeat.
“Well, I’m not good at the hundreds yet.” he said, his voice tired. “Numbers are hard in French, you know.”
“It’s a different system than your native language, so your struggle is understandable and expected.” Jean told him as they finally reached their floor. “You’ll be fine. Also, I do not think you will be using the hundreds that frequently.”
They were already in front of their room, and Jeremy reached into his back pocket to find the key. An actual key, since apparently this excuse of a hotel couldn’t be bothered with key cards.
Jeremy opened the door to let them in. “But then how else could I tell you if I ever scored a hundred ti-”
He stopped in the middle of the small room, frozen in place. A second later, Jean saw the reason why. “Oh.”
The queen-sized bed seemed good enough by this hotel’s standards, but that wasn’t the issue.
The issue was that there was only one bed.
“They must’ve given us the wrong room.” Jeremy said after a moment later, getting ready to leave. “I’ll go talk to the receptionist.”
Jean placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s late.”
“I’ll be quick, promise.” Jeremy brushed him off. “I’m just gonna ask for another room.”
“Then I will come with you.”
“Jean, no. There is no need for both of us to go through another fourteen flights of stairs up and down. It will be faster if I just use the elevator myself, okay?”
Jean wanted to argue but his legs knew Jeremy was right. He really didn’t want either of them to go through any more stairs tonight.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Be quick.”
Jeremy gave him a small smile and left the room.
Jean placed the duffel bag hanging around his shoulder on the floor and settled on the couch. His eyes landed on the bed, which was difficult to avoid considering it filled almost two thirds of the already small room, then his heart skipped a beat as the instant realization washed over him.
Maybe it was because the exhaustion of a long day caught up to him more than he let on or because the whole situation occurred only in a few minutes, Jean didn’t realize what the presence of this single bed actually meant for them. For him.
It wasn’t the presence of another man on a bed with him, it was the presence of Jeremy himself. Jean trusted him with his every being, what he didn’t trust was his own heart to not push through out of his ribcage if he had to lay under a duvet that was filled with the warmth of Jeremy’s body.
It was far too dangerous.
Because if they really did end up sleeping on the same bed together, if Jean really got a taste of what falling asleep would be like with his lungs full of Jeremy’s scent, he didn’t know if he could ever go back to not knowing. Would sleep ever come as easy as trained then, or would his body crave Jeremy to be by his side with grinding desire as he himself did in his every waking second?
Such an amount of desire, a kind that was unknown to him before Jeremy came along, that never seemed to get sated no matter how desperately Jean tried.
Ever since he allowed himself to look, to want, he started spending most of his time cataloging every piece of Jeremy he could collect only to put them in a secret vault in his mind, not letting it get tainted by any vile things that usually occupied his memory. Jeremy’s caramel eyes in the morning, Jeremy’s radiant smile that Jean slowly started refusing to look away from, Jeremy’s lingering scent that had the power to wipe away any functioning thought in his brain, Jeremy’s soft laugh that still echoed inside Jean’s chest hours later.
There were other things as well. Dangerous, almost unconscious things that Jean would never dare to keep track of before the rules have changed. Before Jean realized there could not exist a rule that could keep him from wanting Jeremy.
Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy.
He startled at the sound of a key unlocking the door, then, as if he got caught doing something dirty, he straightened his spine to clear any evidence of his thoughts of Jeremy and waited for him to come in.
Jeremy looked even more tired than Jean felt at the moment. His beautiful eyes were shadowed by exhaustion, his eyebrows in a tense scowl.
“They told me that they don’t have any other available room for two people with two single beds.” He pinched the middle of his eyebrows as if to release pressure. “I called the coach, but he didn’t answer. He’s either showering or already asleep.”
“Jeremy,” Jean called out to stop him, because Jeremy started to sound a little panicked.
“I can ask Cat and Laila, but-”
“No,” Jean said, final, and got up from where he was sitting to meet him in the middle of the room. The girls already told them very clearly not to disturb them tonight when they could make use of a hotel room just for themselves where they didn’t have to be quiet, no matter how shitty the hotel seemed.
“Jeremy, it’s fine. There’s no need to disturb anyone else at this time of the night. They need to rest, and so do we.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, still hesitant. Jean knew very well that he was worrying over Jean’s comfort. Always so attentive, so careful at giving Jean his space. Didn’t he know that there was no one else in the world Jean would want more than him in his space?
“Yes, do not make me repeat myself. Go shower, now.” Giving Jeremy some task to do would at least make him stop from asking another Are you sure?. “I’d like to sleep as soon as possible since we’ll be up early in the morning.”
Jeremy’s mouth worked on silent protests, but he clearly didn’t want to question Jean’s decision any further, so he just ended up puckering his lips and huffing out a breath. “Okay, then.”
Cute, Jean thought helplessly. He bit inside his lip, hard.
Jeremy quickly typed a text on his phone, probably to let the coach know that everything was fine, then glanced at Jean one last time to check Jean was still okay with this. Jean was, so he turned around to go into the bathroom.
He was already out of the shower by the time Jean finished taking out their essentials from their bag. With a towel wrapped low around his hips and the steam caused by the hot water following behind him, he was a vision so striking as a punch to the gut.
Maybe Jean had been cocky, maybe he had too much confidence in himself for daring to think he could survive a night with an angel pressed beside him so close. Maybe his warmth would burn him to ashes by the morning.
Well, he wouldn’t regret a thing.
Jeremy had to maneuver around him in such a small room to get his clothes, and Jean could see the goosebumps on his arms caused by the chill air in the room. He was already shivering a little, growing up under the California sun surely had turned him to a stranger to a real winter, especially in such a poorly heated room as theirs.
“Well, at least they got hot water.” Jeremy said as he leaned to grab a pair of sweats.
Jean watched a drop of water finding its way through his back muscles towards his bottom until it disappeared into the towel.
Cataloging Jeremy’s pieces, he thought, the water on his golden skin, then put it away inside his vault for later.
Jean’s answer came a second too late, a humming sound that could pass as an affirmation, and he ordered his body to move to the bathroom to take his turn showering.
When he got out, Jeremy was putting a blanket over the couch.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Found an extra blanket in the closet.” Jeremy said without meeting his eyes.
“Not what I asked,” he answered, irritated. He really didn’t want to play that game with Jeremy tonight. His partner’s thoughtfulness would always be the essence of him, but if it came to the point of sacrificing his own comfort for Jean’s, then it would be a problem.
“Jean,” he turned around to actually look at him this time, then instantly paused at the state Jean was in, the same as himself only minutes ago when he got out of the shower. Delight was a traitorous thing swirling inside Jean’s chest, it was good to know he wasn’t alone in this torture that is desire. Jeremy collected himself quickly, though. “I’m used to sleeping on the couch, you know.”
“The bed is perfectly fine for both of us. I believe that is the purpose of a queen-sized bed, yes?” He had learned about the types of bed more than he’d ever liked to know while picking out furniture for their new home. “This still does not explain why you decided to give me the bed and yourself the couch.”
“Well, you’re way bigger than me.”
Jean raised a single brow at him, amused despite himself. Catching on the double entendre of what he just said, Jeremy flushed a pretty pink.
“I mean, you wouldn’t fit on the couch, and I would never make you. I don’t want to crowd your space when there are other possible options.” Jeremy’s hair was still damp from the shower, golden waves framing his face. Standing there with a very used blanket in his hands, he looked irresistible. Jean’s body ached to reach for him. “It is really no big deal.”
“It is no big deal because no one is sleeping on the couch.”
Jean knew Jeremy wanted to give him every choice, he always did. Maybe he didn’t know everything about all the monsters in Jean’s head, but he still wanted Jean to get there, if he ever did want to get there, on his own terms, not because they got stuck in a shitty hotel room with only one bed. But more than anything, Jeremy trusted Jean to make the final call. So, he nodded his head and dropped the blanket onto the couch.
They moved quickly getting ready for bed. They knew each other’s night routine as well as their own after so many times of sharing a room, and Jean enjoyed the quiet intimacy of knowing how Jeremy liked to apply some type of lotion to his hands before sleep when he could. Jeremy also offered him every time, though it was a strict no from Jean at first, it eventually became harder to dismiss him.
Jean turned the lights off before joining Jeremy in bed –an unthinkable order of words he still couldn’t fathom was turning into reality–, and watched for a few seconds as the city lights swept through the darkness inside the room. This became another habit for him as well, leaving the curtains wide open before going to sleep, so that he would know the darkness he was about to sleep in was still mingled with the life happening above the ground, contrast to the quiet and pitch-black kind back in the Nest.
He slowly stepped towards the bed Jeremy already settled in. It should’ve been earth shattering, to lay beside the man who captured his heart long before he admitted himself, and maybe it was, maybe it was so much more than that, but when he finally put his head on the pillow next to Jeremy’s, all he felt was how this is where he should’ve been all along.
They did not need to say anything other than murmuring quiet good nights to each other, considering how early they had to be up in the morning for their flight, they should’ve been asleep already as late as it was.
But a greedy, insatiable part of him, as if he hadn’t been handed everything, still wanted more. He wanted to stay awake as long as possible to savor this moment, to paint the delicious weight beside him to memory.
Then it turned out, he couldn’t have fallen asleep even if he wanted to, because Jeremy was a shivering mess beside him.
He kept turning around, trying to curl himself into a position that would keep him the warmest. Jean gave him some time, but after Jeremy’s fifth failed attempt at finding comfort, he put a hand out to stop him. It landed on his hip. “Jeremy, stop.”
Jeremy stilled immediately at the unexpected touch. Jean kept his hand on his hip.
“Sorry,” Jeremy sniffed. “It’s cold.”
It was cold, but it was nothing Jean couldn’t handle. Back in the Nest, the cold was a constant reminder to keep them alert, awake. A warning for them to never slip up.
However, Jeremy was different, of course he was. He was born to bask in the sun, to absorb all its warmth. He hated layering clothes, he preferred to wear as little clothing as possible, most nights he slept in nothing but his underwear, probably as an active war against Jean’s sanity, he was certain.
“You would not be as cold if you packed something actually fit for winter.”
Jeremy turned his body fully towards him to defend himself. The city lights reflected on his wide eyes. “It is objectively cold. Also, it is not my fault they don’t heat their rooms properly. How could I have known that?”
“You’re right.” Jean said. “Come here.”
“What?”
Jean answered by moving his hand on Jeremy’s hip up to the small of his back, then pulled him to himself in an easy move.
“Jean,” Jeremy said, a little breathless. Jean didn’t know if it was because of him or the cold.
He stretched his arm a little wider to hold Jeremy fully, to warm him as much as he could.
“Jean,” Jeremy repeated, steadier this time.
Jean wondered if he could just continue to ignore him so he’d keep saying Jean’s name.
“You don’t need to do this.” Jeremy’s body was tense in his arms, Jean wanted him to relax into him.
“Yes, I do.” he answered. They were so close now, so close Jean felt Jeremy’s minty breath on his own mouth. It made him dizzy. “I cannot sleep with you causing an earthquake in our bed.”
‘Our’ was a slip up, but Jean still liked the sound of it and Jeremy didn’t seem to mind as he was too busy being offended.
“I wasn’t that bad.” His hand settled on Jean’s chest between their bodies, the lightest pressure on a dangerous place, so close to his heart it could give away everything.
“Now you are not, because you stopped shaking.”
Jeremy averted his gaze shyly. It was such a rare occurrence for his usual persona, but it kept happening more and more lately, ever since Jean let his eyes roam over him instead of looking away, since he let his hand brush a piece of hair on his forehead, and it burned through Jean all the same each time.
He was not tense as before, but still careful. Warmer than he was a few minutes ago. A comfortable silence washed over them. Jean watched Jeremy, Jeremy watched his own hand on Jean’s chest. They should’ve closed their eyes, gone to sleep.
“Did you know that soldiers also do this?” Jeremy asked in a voice merely above than a whisper.
“Pack poorly before a trip?”
Jeremy laughed softly. Jean had never felt his laughter this close before. He didn’t bother bottling up the memory to put it in his vault this time, he drank in the sound right away.
Greedy, he was.
Jeremy’s eyes found his.
“I mean, this.” He snuggled, unconsciously, a little closer to Jean as if to make his point. “When they’re in extreme conditions, like in freezing cold or something, they hold each other to prevent hypothermia. Basically, their body heat keeps each other alive while sleeping. It’s one of their survival procedures, tactical cuddling, they call it.”
Jean considered this for a moment, then said, “What is the procedure if one of them starts snoring like you?”
Jeremy gasped in offense, in a second he lifted his head from the pillow to poorly attempt to break his body free out of Jean’s arms, which led to Jean just holding him tighter. They ended up even closer than before, a game of pushing and pulling each other like a couple of kids, until Jean realized he was mirroring the playful smile on Jeremy’s lips.
“Stop moving, you’re ruining the temperature.” The room may just as well be burning, Jean couldn’t tell. “What if we freeze to death?”
Instead of saying anything, Jeremy poked at his calf with his freezing toes. Jean hissed at the touch. Jeremy giggled at him.
The sound went straight to his bones, and Jean thought I might just die here.
“Why do you know what soldiers do to survive?” Jean asked when they both calmed down enough. “Do I have to dissuade you from another profession?”
A flicker of emotion Jean couldn’t catch fast enough swept across his face. “My father,” he said quietly. His father, if Jean remembered correctly, was also a soldier. His father, whom Jeremy only mentioned once to Jean and never again. Jean waited patiently for him to continue, if he wished to.
“Well, he’s not the one who told me this, of course, I don’t think he’d ever talk to me about men cuddling,” he gave a pained little chuckle, a huff of breath more than a laugh, as if the thought was so ridiculous to begin with. The sound felt so wrong coming from Jeremy’s mouth that Jean immediately wanted to snatch it away from him. “He’s a tough man, you know, he lives by strict discipline. A perfect soldier.” He gave a little pause, looking lost in memory. “When I was younger, I would wonder what he did most days, where he went or what he liked. I wanted to know if he ever felt scared like I did, or what his favorite type of bread was, if he’d like to see the new trick I had just learned with a racquet. I used to ask him too, at least whenever I felt brave enough to, but then I stopped after most of my questions gained silence instead of answers. He believed that I was good at wasting time on pointless matters, it was one of the few things he and mom agreed on.”
Jean suddenly felt a fierce anger blooming inside him, a feeling so out of place for this current heaven they created between their bodies. He still wondered how this angel of a man survived those wretched beings who called themselves his family. How many times had they let him down, made him feel like he wasn’t enough when he was everything?
Jeremy must’ve sensed Jean’s body getting tense beneath his touch, so he tapped his fingers lightly on his chest in an attempt to ease the muscles there. But this wasn’t about Jean, he wasn’t the one who needed comfort.
He leaned close enough to let their foreheads touch. “He sounds miserable to me.”
Jeremy closed his eyes at the touch, and stayed silent for a few seconds before saying, “I wouldn’t even know if he was. He wouldn't tell me.”
His fingers continued tapping on Jean’s chest, tap tap tap. “But I read a lot about soldiers and the military. I learned their routines, what they would do in a case of threat, how they trained. I thought I could get a glimpse of him if I gathered enough pieces,” the tapping stopped, then he opened his eyes, and Jean watched him grimace. “God, it sounds pathetic when I say it out loud.”
“No,” Jean said firmly. “It sounds like you tried.”
Jeremy gave a little hum, his head tipped lower, his eyes fixed on his own hand laying still on his chest. That would not do. Jeremy needed to know he was not the one who failed in this story, that he’d never been.
“Jeremy,” he said, and he moved his other hand that was not currently holding Jeremy by the waist to grab his chin. Jeremy went easily, his eyes finally meeting Jean’s. The movement made their noses brush against each other, and Jean felt his partner’s breath hitching more than he heard it. “I am glad you are not miserable.”
And Jean was. He was glad for Jeremy’s kind heart, that he always chose to do better. He was glad for his smiles shiny enough to rival the sun itself, glad that he brightened up every room he walked into just by existing. He was so glad that his family could not mold him into something he wasn’t, no matter how much they tried.
His eyes widened slightly, his hand clutching at the fabric of Jean’s hoodie, then he smiled at him. He was so beautiful that Jean ached all over. “I’m glad you are not either.”
They kept holding each other, content in the way their breathings synced along. Jean’s eyes closed on their own, and he wondered if any other living soul on earth had ever felt at peace as he did at the moment. He doubted it.
Enough time had passed for Jean to think Jeremy was asleep, until he called out to him.
“Jean?” he said, making Jean’s eyes fly open. Jeremy was already staring at him.
“Hm?”
“I don’t actually snore, right?”
Jean fought against a laugh that bubbled inside him, but he still couldn’t stop his lips from twitching fondly at the earnestly asked question.
“No,” he answered. He didn’t tell Jeremy that he mostly slept with his lips slightly agape, though. He didn’t tell him that Jean sometimes fell asleep watching Jeremy’s rosebud of a mouth, listening to the sound of his softly breathing in and out. “No, you do not.”
Jeremy released a breath that landed on Jean’s mouth. “Oh, good.”
“Go to sleep, now.”
Jeremy closed his eyes at the command with a ghost of a smile placed on his lips. Jean followed him right after he was sure Jeremy would not open them again.
Every part of him begged him to let himself fall asleep already, and maybe that’s why he thought he was dreaming Jeremy’s quiet “Tu es chaud, Jean.”
You are warm.
Jean was certain he’d forgotten what the cold ever felt like.