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“Jean? Babe?”
Jean blinked, looking up at Cat where she stood in front of him holding a bag of apples in one hand and a net of tangerines in the other. She stared at him, a crease between her brows and a frown across her mouth.
“You okay?”
Jean was not okay. He looked around the grocery store, trying to centre himself back into the present. There was an old man across the aisle picking through some lemons, a woman with her child hanging onto her dress as she felt through the watermelons, and a young couple arguing over something ahead of them. Jean looked back at Cat, relaxing his grip on the shopping cart.
“Fine, sorry. Did you ask me something?” he said. His voice felt far away.
She leaned over, placing the fruits into the cart maintaining eye contact with him, crease still between her brows, “I asked if you wanted some berries.”
Jean cleared his throat, as he returned to his body. He had drifted off again, trapped in a memory, in a spiral slipping downwards forgetting where he was and what he was doing. He didn’t know what had triggered it this time, but he had been in and out of this state all day.
“No, thank you,” he said, avoiding Cat’s lingering gaze.
Cat studied him a little longer, sucking in her bottom lip as if stopping herself from saying something more.
“Okay, shall we?” she said, slapping her hand onto the front of the cart, closing her fingers over the metal, tugging it forward as she turned away to walk further down the aisle.
Jean swallowed nervously and pushed the cart along with her. Today was a bad day. It wasn’t the first time he had a day like this. Dr. Dobson had told him it was normal. That he would have days like this where he’d keep getting caught up in memories, his brain trying to process the things he had soldiered through without thought or care in the past. Days where he’d feel so far removed from what he was remembering, but also from what he was experiencing in his current life.
He just had to find a way to not let himself get swallowed up by it. Had to find a source of comfort, a productive and healthy way to feel each emotion as it came, before letting it pass. He didn’t think grocery shopping was what she’d had in mind. But they were in desperate need of a food shop and Laila had an assignment to work on, and Jeremy’s class did not get out till, well now. So, it was left to Jean and Cat.
Jean didn’t mind. Shopping for food was less conflicting than shopping for clothes. Though, the girls could often be tempted to pick up unnecessary indulgences that Jean did not agree with, and more often when Jeremy’s unhinged influence was present. Jean had developed a habit of surreptitiously removing their sugar filled snacks and treats from the cart when they weren’t looking. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop them still ending up in their kitchen cupboards somehow.
Jean reached up for Renee’s silver cross hanging around his neck. Fiddling with it as he pushed the cart one handed and continued to follow behind Cat as she picked up the rest of their produce. He used it to focus himself in the present, pressing the warm metal cross to his lips, and only dropping it from his hand once they reached the checkout and he had to let go to help pack their shopping.
Cat thankfully didn’t question if he was okay again as they made their way back home. She instead chatted away listing off meals they would prep for the week and Jean nodded along forcing himself to focus on the sound of her voice, and the weight of the bags in his arms as they walked back to their home. The sun was steadily beginning to settle, and Jean breathed deep realising Jeremy would be back from class by the time they arrived. He just had to make it home.
They reached their street and Jean felt himself speeding up. Once at the front door, Jean felt his body slowly releasing all its tension already. He hadn’t really felt this way about a place in such a long time. Wasn’t sure if he ever had. Even back in Marseille, home had never really felt like a home. He shuffled anxiously on his feet as Cat fumbled with the keys desperate to get inside and see Jeremey.
Finally, she got the door opened and they both crossed the threshold, Jean carrying most of the bags, toed off his shoes quickly and headed straight for the kitchen as Cat’s voice rang out.
“We’re home!”
Jean busied himself with putting everything away when Laila shuffled into the kitchen looking more haggard than he’d ever seen her.
“Oh my god, please tell me you got my rice cakes and hummus. I need a snack or I’m gonna lose it.”
She came in peering into the bags over Jean’s arm as he unloaded them onto the counter. When he pulled her obscene choice of snacks out, she grabbed for them with more urgency than Jean had ever seen pressing a kiss to his shoulder before she breezed back out the room with renewed energy.
“What, no kiss for me?” Cat shouted after her.
Laila waved her off before disappearing into their study room and Cat pouted causing Jean to smirk. He was getting used to their antics and he couldn’t deny their silliness could be endearing at times. They made quick work of putting everything away and Jean bent down ready to pull out a pot to get started on their dinner when he felt Cat’s hand on his forearm. He straightened back up and looked at her questioningly.
“Go, relax. I got this,” she said with a gentle knowing look on her face. Jean frowned. Was he really that easy to read now? Is this what it meant to have friends and to be known? He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“I’m fine. I can help,” he insisted.
Cat screwed up her face, and shook her head, her tone teasing and light, “I kind of don’t want you to.”
She pushed gently at his arm, and he sighed, his body suddenly feeling exhausted as he gave in.
“Come and get me if you do,” he said.
“Sure, thing babe,” she said, skirting her fingers lightly under his chin, turning away to get started.
Accepting his dismissal from the kitchen, he made his way down the hallway to his and Jeremy’s bedroom. The door was left slightly ajar, so Jean pushed it open, peering around and squeezing through the sizeable gap before pushing it back to its original position behind him.
Jeremy sat on his side of their pushed together beds. His back resting against the headboard, one leg tucked under the other that was bent at the knee in front of him. He looked comfortable in an oversized white t-shirt and his grey shorts. He had his reading glasses on, resting on the bridge of his nose. A book lay open in his palms. His head remained turned down towards his book, but his eyes drifted up to Jean over the rim of his glasses.
Jean felt his heart skip a beat as a smile slowly spread across Jeremy’s sweet face and cursed himself at the generic cliché. He couldn’t help it though. Jeremy was attractive in a way that caught Jean off guard every time, and it had only gotten worse now that Jean knew he was allowed to look as much as he liked. Jean caught a flash of Jeremy’s dimples and wondered how he had made it through this horrible, unsettling day without him. He was so tired.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi,” Jeremy said, his voice soft. Jean felt its warmth wrap around him. “How was shopping?”
Jean moved forward, making his way to their joined beds, climbing over them until he was sat next to Jeremy. Their shoulders pressed together. Jeremy leaned into him, and Jean sighed, already feeling better than he had all day.
“It was fine.”
“Bad day?” Jeremy said, concern lacing his voice now, and Jean once again wondered what it was that gave him away. He turned to look at him, his eyes drawn up to the crease between his brows. He pressed his thumb to it, brushing over Jeremy’s skin until it smoothed out.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
He didn’t want to talk about it right now. If he started he might not stop, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. He wanted to forget every memory that had plagued him today. He wanted to pretend his life had always felt this way, had always been as simple as brushing away a crease from a beautiful boy’s skin.
Jeremy allowed the deflection, not pressing further knowing Jean would talk when he was ready to. Jean remembered when he first arrived here, how Jeremy would push and pull when he could, trying to figure Jean out. Stubborn in his efforts to open him up. Now they’d found their feet together as a unit and communication came as easy as a simple look.
Jeremy turned back to his book. “You might know this one actually.” He smiled then. “It’s Jules Verne. Journey to the Centre of the Earth. He’s French,” he said excitedly, giving Jean a pointed look over the rim of his glasses again.
“Vraiment?” he asked, mockingly.
Jeremy rolled his eyes then and Jean leaned into him, sinking lower against the headboard.
“Read it to me,” he said.
“Okay,” Jeremy said his voice low, as he began to read out loud continuing from where he left off. Jeremy’s voice was lovely, low and steady as he read the words on the page with practiced ease. Jean shut his eyes and tipped his head to the side, so it rested on Jeremy’s shoulder, letting the cadence of the other boy's words wash over him. He felt all the tension from his body and his brain wash away as he lay there pressed into Jeremey’s side, his shoulder bone pressing into Jean’s cheek, not unpleasantly.
He caught flashes of the memories that taunted him today. Some were cruel and evil, some were nothing more than a look in a raven’s eyes as they crossed paths in the halls of the nest, or a throwaway conversation with Zane that he would not have thought twice about until now. But Jeremy’s voice washed over all of them, steady and firm like the ocean waves at the beach, as he continued to read.
Jean twisted his body, tilting further into Jeremy. Sensing he wanted to be closer, Jeremy shifted turning towards Jean he lifted the arm Jean was pressed against and wrapped it around Jean’s shoulders pulling him closer so that he was now resting back against Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy’s arm draped over him holding the book out in front of both of them as he continued reading without pause. Jean was impressed. He could feel the rumble of Jeremy’s words through his chest, the way it rose and sank with every breath underneath him. He could get used to this.
Jeremey continued to read, and Jean felt himself sinking into a world of fantasy and adventure. Something he hadn’t done in the longest time. Something he didn’t think would even be possible. For so long his thoughts had only been occupied with Exy and survival. How much pain he could bear, how many days until an ache would disappear until a new one arose, how many days it would be until a bruise turned from a gruesome purple to a bearable yellow. He never imagined those days would become distant memories that ached to comprehend and felt almost impossible now that he had this. Now that he got to lay beside a beautiful boy while he read softly to him. If this was a dream, Jean sure as shit did not want to be woken up. Not from this one. Not this time.
Jean was interrupted from his thoughts by a soft knock at the door. Laila’s head appeared in the doorway, her expression shifting as she began gushing over them.
“Awwwww,” she cooed. She pushed the door open further then, one hand on the doorknob, the other pressed over her heart. “I hate to break up this most adorable display of cuddling I have ever witnessed, but dinner’s ready.”
Jeremy laughed softly, “Be there in a minute.”
Laila gave them one last look of adoration before leaving them.
Jeremy closed his book, tossing it to the floor beside the bed and linked his hands together over Jean’s chest, hugging him close. He pressed a kiss to the top of Jean’s head and Jean reached up, covering his linked hands with one of is own.
“You feeling better?” he asked, the sound muffled by Jean’s hair.
Jean sat up then and Jeremy let him go, looking at him softly. Jean had forgotten he was wearing those glasses and he took a minute to burn the image of it into his brain. This was one he didn’t mind haunting him. He reached up resting his thumb on Jeremy’s cheek.
“Yes. Thank you, Jeremy.”
“Anytime,” Jeremey said, smiling sweetly, he reached up pushing Jean's hair away from his head twirling the longer strands around his fingers.
Jean dropped his hand from Jeremy's face and moved to rest against him again, wanting to stay hidden here for just a little longer. This time he lay with his ear pressed right over Jeremy's heart. He listened to it beat, strong and steady, as Jeremy continued to stroke his hair away from his face, tucking strands behind his ear. Jean breathed deep, inhaling Jeremy's musky vanilla scent. He skirted his hand over Jeremy's ribs and around his back, pulling him close like a pillow and Jeremy chuckled under him. It was Jean's favourite sound.
"You're like a cat," he said, amusement in his tone.
Jean ignored him, pressing his face deeper into Jeremy's strong torso causing the boy to chuckle again.
"Will you stay tonight? Finish the story?" Jean asked, shivering slightly as Jeremy scratched his fingers softly at the nape of his neck. Now that he had him here underneath him he didn't want to let him go.
"You want me to?" he asked.
"Please," Jean said, turning his face to look up Jeremy, already knowing what his response would be but wanting to hear it anyway.
Jeremy held his gaze for a beat before leaning over to press a kiss to the crooked bridge of Jean's nose, his glasses slipping down his own face.
Jean lifted his hand, pushing them back up Jeremy's face and Jeremy smiled even wider.
"I'll stay," he said softly and Jean thanked whatever God that was still watching over him that he had made it through the storm to get to Jeremy.
