Archive of Our Own

The last person Jean expected to be on his doorstep at nine in the morning on a Sunday was Kevin Day.

He had only answered the door thinking it was a delivery. Cat and Laila had left for Malibu for their bimonthly date-night weekend, leaving Jean in charge of the house. He was awaiting an Etsy package containing, of all things, hand-knitted dog clothes for Jabberwocky. Jeremy took his responsibility as a dog parent so seriously Jean feared for their hypothetical children down the line—there was no toy, collar, or outfit too outlandish for Jeremy to buy for poor Jab, who looked like he enjoyed playing dress up about as much as he would enjoy watching an exy game.

Jean had already mentally prepared himself for the mortification of facing a delivery person and signing off on such a ridiculous package. What he had not prepared for was six feet of dark hair and piercing green eyes standing on his porch, looking breathless, like he had just sprinted the several thousand miles separating California from South Carolina.

Instantly, Jean moved to shut the door in his face.

Kevin blocked him with a foot in the door and a hand around the edge of it. “Jean,” he said, sounding winded. Maybe he really had sprinted all this way. There was no better explanation for how he got to California when he was meant to be a continent away. “Let me in. I need to talk to you.”

Jean kicked at his foot to dislodge it and pulled harder on the door. Kevin pulled right back, yanking the door open the scant few inches he needed to push his hand further in and gain leverage. Jean knew when he was fighting a losing battle, so he loosened his grip on the handle and allowed himself a brief second to enjoy Kevin’s stumble as the weight of the door redistributed itself. He turned away, willing his heart to slow its rapid beating, and walked further into the house, changing his strategy to ignoring Kevin until he took the hint and left. Whatever he crossed the country for could not be nearly important enough to warrant coming into Jean’s house uninvited and unannounced.

It had been months since Jean had spoken to Kevin. He knew Jeremy kept in touch with him, talking exy and life updates, but Jean tuned his boyfriend out when he tried to share any details of Kevin’s life. Jean made a concerted effort to seem uninterested when they watched replays of the Foxes’ games, and if Jeremy noticed his eyes tracking a certain dark-haired striker, he was kind enough not to comment on it.

Jean had almost made it to the kitchen when he noticed the absence of a presence following him. He had expected Kevin to badger him around the house with whatever request he had come with. The lack of condescension from the other man was startling, to say the least—Jean might even call it concerning if he was feeling charitable.

Jean turned back around to face the entry. Kevin had stepped through the door and closed it behind him, backpack still slung over one shoulder. He now stood lost on the welcome mat, shivering faintly, looking like he had ended up inside Jean’s house by accident and didn’t know where to go from here.

Jean quirked an eyebrow in silent question. When several beats passed without a response, he sighed and deigned to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Kevin shrugged weakly, still breathing heavily. The silence filling the air around them grew thicker with every second Kevin failed to respond. Jean sighed again. “How did you even get here?”

“Jeremy gave me your new address,” Kevin said, like that was at all the question Jean was asking. Jean crossed his arms impatiently. He didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a near thing.

“Obviously you have my address. That does not explain how and why you chose to come to it.”

Kevin desperately shrugged again like he had forgotten how to do anything but that. “I just need…” He trailed off as his gaze slipped past Jean to stare at something just past him. Jean kept his eyes on Kevin, but heard the quiet scratch of Jab’s nails against the wood floor as he approached their sudden visitor. Kevin didn’t move, but his eyes softened as Jabberwocky began sniffing around his feet.

“I forgot you had a dog.”

Jean’s jaw clenched. It was infuriating for Kevin to pretend he knew the finer details of Jean’s life when he was the one who had given him up. It was even more infuriating to watch him crouch down and pet Jab between the ears just where he liked it, like he knew. Jean’s heart panged at the domestic display. “Like you would remember that.”

Kevin’s brow furrowed as he glanced up at Jean, giving Jab one final scratch before standing back up. “I remember plenty of things about you.”

Jean gritted his teeth and decided to wholly ignore that statement. It was easier than letting Kevin know the effect his words had on him, even after all these years. He should have been desensitized to Kevin Day by now. He was starting to think it was never going to happen.

“You are supposed to be on the other side of this country preparing for finals with your team. Instead, you have wormed your way into my house without warning or invitation. Unless somebody has died, I fail to see how you have any reason to be here.”

Kevin shifted uncomfortably, grip tightening on the strap of his backpack. His expression turned pained. “Someone did die, technically,” he said weakly. Jean stared at him. Kevin seemed hesitant to start his next sentence. “When Riko…”

Jean turned sharply away and stalked towards his bedroom. He would not indulge this conversation, would not allow Kevin to bring up the thing they should have both buried years ago. A thump from behind Jean told him Kevin had shed his backpack somewhere between the front door and the hallway in his rush to chase after him. Finally, Kevin followed him through the house, pausing in the bedroom doorway before Jean could pull the door shut.

“Jean, just listen to me,” he pleaded. “I need you to—nobody else understands, nobody could, I just—I need you,” he said, all in a rush, like the words were tripping over themselves to get out. It might have been the most honest Kevin had been in years.

Jean whirled around to glare at him. “You did not come here to talk about him,” he spat, voice like ice.

Kevin opened his mouth as if to say something else, but quickly closed it at the look in Jean’s eyes, as if he knew arguing with that expression was futile. Wisely, he changed tactics.

“Thea broke up with me.”

That shut Jean up. His jaw nearly dropped in shock—it was all he could do to keep a straight face.

Kevin and Thea’s relationship, as tumultuous as it was, was one constant Jean thought would never go away. They had been on-again, off-again, hot and cold, secretive, and sometimes even downright nasty to each other over the years, but they always found their way back to one another. Kevin’s impending graduation had been incentive enough for them to step things up a notch, and they were practically living together between seasons. Or so Jean heard. Not that he paid attention.

Jean could never forget the sight of Kevin’s face as he returned to their room after his first late-night tryst with Thea. It was an expression he had never seen on the striker’s face before—one of pure bliss, eyes glazed over like he was walking through a dream. Jean had committed that expression to memory instantly and prayed to any god that was out there that he might see it on Kevin’s face again—prayed even harder for said god to strike him down for thinking, blasphemously, that he should have been the one to put it there.

Needless to say, it was unthinkable that the two of them could have split. Thea was Kevin’s guiding light. He needed someone to follow, and she was eager to have a lamb to shepherd straight to slaughter. He had turned towards her like a sunflower to the sun all those years ago and never looked back.

Until now.

He looked Kevin up and down, still standing in the doorway. He looked truly pathetic now, worn down by the weight of his confession and pinned by Jean’s heavy gaze. Jean pushed down his shock as best he could before biting back with what he hoped was a steady voice. “Unexpected news. Did she finally realize what a coward you were after all these years, or did she just get sick of you following her everywhere like a dog on a leash?”

“No, none of that,” Kevin said. “I told her about you.”

This time, Jean was unable to stop the full-body flinch that wracked his frame.

“I decided it was time to tell her about Riko, about everything,” Kevin said. “We were getting—serious, we were talking about marriage, about—”

Jean sat down suddenly on the bed, overcome with emotion. He could not hear this from Kevin, not now, not ever. Each breath felt as if it was filling his lungs with oil instead of oxygen. Kevin continued on like he was incapable of stopping.

“I told her in order to talk about our future, I had to tell her about my past.” Kevin inhaled deeply as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. “I told her—Jean, I told her everything.”

Jean’s consciousness had left his body. He was looking down at the room from far, far above it, watching Kevin reveal his deepest secrets like it was nothing.

“I told her everything Riko did, what he did to you, and how we were—” Kevin’s breath hitched. “I couldn’t hide any of it from her.”

Jean’s head was spinning. He could not comprehend a word Kevin was saying. What had there been to hide? Jean’s one-sided obsession had been buried as deep as it was rooted. Riko had taught him the hard way not to look too closely, not to let his interest show, as plain as he was sure it was.

No matter how hard Riko attempted to beat it out of him, Jean could never bring himself to look away from Kevin. The striker had spent their years in the Nest seemingly oblivious to it all, offering secreted affections to Jean like it cost him nothing. Which it did—Jean recouped that cost all on his own, his body bearing the weight of Riko’s punishments and his heart bearing the pain of unrequited love. For Kevin to stroll back into his life now and hint at anything that might have been, that could have been, if not for everything—Jean didn’t think his heart could take it.

His life was good—great, even—without Kevin in it. Jean would have given the world for Kevin, once, would have laid down on a bed of firewood and lit the match himself if it would have allowed Kevin one ounce of happiness. But Kevin had left him for dead, walked out the door and turned the page, and the world kept moving on without him. The sun still set, the earth still turned, and Jean’s life no longer revolved around one beautiful boy keeping him alive. Kevin had killed Jean when he left, killed him again when he ripped him away from the Nest, and then resurrected him just as fast, thrusting him into a new life across the country and never slowing down long enough to say “sorry”.

Jean hadn’t noticed his breathing growing shallow and ragged, hadn’t noticed Kevin approaching him on the bed until he felt a hand grasp his wrist. Jean flinched at the sudden touch, grey eyes shooting up to meet Kevin’s. He didn’t bother hiding his panicked expression as he met the other man’s gaze. Kevin’s face was schooled into a careful mask, but there was a layer of concern behind his eyes. Too late, Jean realized that his fingers were digging sharp crescents into his neck. He released his tense grip and wrenched away from Kevin’s hold.

Jean looked away and breathed deeply, trying in vain to steady his frayed nerves. “Kevin,” he started slowly, “whatever you think you’re saying, I advise you to stop saying it.”

“I can’t stop.” Kevin sat down hard on the bed next to Jean. “Listen to me and let me finish. I told Thea everything about the Nest, everything Riko did behind closed doors. I thought maybe… maybe this time, she’d listen, she’d understand, but…” He stopped short as if biting back his next words.

Jean risked a glance back at the other boy. Kevin was staring a hole in the floor, eyes glassy, bottom lip worried between his teeth. For all he had to say earlier, now he seemed hesitant, even scared to continue.

Before he could think any better of it, Jean shot out his arm to grab Kevin’s wrist. Kevin jumped slightly at his touch and met Jean’s eyes with his own. Jean stared in silent supplication to continue. Now that Kevin had started talking, Jean felt compelled to hear the rest of it. He didn’t want to hear it, and yet he did—he had to know if Kevin was really saying what he thought he was.

Kevin looked away again, first to the ceiling, then the wall, finally letting his gaze drop to his hands, twined anxiously in his lap. “Thea couldn’t understand a thing. She’s never understood why I left the Nest, even after I told her who broke my hand. I thought if I detailed it all, if I told her just how bad it was for you—for us, then it might finally get through to her.” He huffed in frustration. “I thought it would dull with time, with her on a professional team and me with the Foxes, but she’ll never give up on her devotion.”

That much was true at least. Jean thought about her brief interview outside Fox Tower, the way she had defended the Raven way of thinking even after the world had witnessed just how destructive it was. Sure, it had gotten her where she was now—had gotten Jean and Kevin to the top of the league as well—but it was not worth defending amidst the horrific aftermath. Even if Jean still couldn’t bring himself to regret it, he knew it to be true.

“The final straw was…” Kevin looked at Jean, almost hesitantly, for a brief moment, before turning quickly away. Jean thought he glimpsed fear in those green eyes, then thought he must have imagined it.

His next words were quiet, barely audible even in the otherwise silent room.

“I told her everything Riko did to you, about what—what he made me do to you.” Kevin shuddered. “I told her how I bandaged you up every day before Riko sent you back onto the court. I told her how you always returned the favor for me, even when I hadn’t protected you from the same wounds. I told her how you taught me French when nobody was looking. I told her about what I made you promise me, how you stayed alive for me.”

When he looked back at Jean, Kevin’s eyes were deep with emotion. “I told her something I’ve never told you; I told her that promise was as much for me as it was for you.”

Jean’s heart was made of lead, each thump heavy in his chest. This was too much to bear. His chest felt like it could crack under the weight of Kevin’s unexpected confession, torn between relief and apprehension.

He closed his eyes, forcing his breath to remain steady, and counted to ten. When he opened his eyes again, Kevin’s gaze had slid back to his hands, still nested gently in his lap. He cradled his left hand in his right like a bird with a broken wing as he continued.

“She said—well, she didn’t say anything for a long while. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I never really could,” he mused, expression turning thoughtful. “Thea was always a little unreachable. I think I liked her more because of that. Even if we were in there together, she was something… beyond the Nest. She was always going to get out and go pro years before I did. She was always looking forward, never looking back at me like I wanted her to. She was always going to leave me behind.”

Like you did to me, Jean thought, but bit back his words. He was still frozen in place by Kevin’s honesty, hanging on to each word of Kevin’s monologue like it was a lifeboat keeping him afloat.

Kevin exhaled shakily, knotting and unknotting his fingers as he spoke. “I think some part of me wanted that. Wanted someone on the outside to think of me. I wanted to be tethered to her like maybe she could pull me out of there if I just held on tight enough.”

Jean almost laughed at that. It had never been his place to speak on Kevin and Thea’s relationship, but if Kevin was going to bring this into his home, he refused to hold his tongue any longer. “The only thing you were holding onto was the lead attached to your own collar.”

Kevin did laugh, a weak and pained noise escaping his throat. “You might be right about that.” He flicked another cautious glance at Jean. “She could never have pulled me out of there, though, not really. Not when I had you.”

Jean’s chest felt like porcelain, hairline fractures spreading across it at every word out of Kevin’s mouth. He couldn’t even take a moment to repair the cracks, Kevin barreling on like he wasn’t chiseling right through Jean’s carefully crafted walls with every sentence.

“When Thea finally did say something, she said…” Kevin closed his eyes briefly, looking vaguely nauseous. “She asked if that was why I was too damaged to tell her I loved her, or if it was just because I had already wasted my love on you instead.”

There was the anvil, dropping right through Jean’s heart and punching a hole through his abdomen. His vision blacked out for a moment. He stopped breathing. He couldn’t hear anything past the rushing of blood in his ears.

I had already wasted my love on you. The words echoed in Jean’s mind, reverberating through him like a scream in an empty cave. Of course, it was a waste. Of course, Kevin would only say this now. Jean’s heart had been overflowing with misplaced affections for the striker for as long as he could remember. In return, Kevin Day had taken and taken and never looked back with a speck of remorse.

A hand on top of his snapped Jean quickly back to reality. His breath came back to him all at once, rushing into his lungs with the speed of a wildfire. Kevin gently pried Jean’s fingers apart where they had clenched into the bedspread. He looked down, talking quietly into the space where their hands touched.

“I tried to deny it. I told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. But she said—god, Jean—she told me I had never once spoken to her the way I talked about you.”

Kevin looked up from their joined hands. Jean refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes, pinning his gaze somewhere in the middle distance and trying in vain to deepen his shallow breathing. Kevin looked away, staring dully at the opposite wall, and went on.

“I had to realize she was right. When I think about the Nest, when I think about anything in my life, it comes back to you. I made you promise, didn’t I? I couldn’t have lived if you didn’t. I couldn’t have kept going if you had died. The only thing that got me through it, all those years, was you. I needed you there, Jean, just as much as you needed me.”

Jean hadn’t realized he’d been staring at Kevin until emerald green eyes snapped back to meet his. For one long moment, they gazed at each other, Jean willing his face to stay slack and still and not betray whatever emotion was roiling inside him.

“If you had needed me, you would not have left me.”

Kevin’s mouth tightened ever so slightly, but his eyes held a challenge. “You would not have left with me even if I had begged.”

Jean had to look away, then. They both knew Kevin was right. Staying in the Nest without Kevin was hard, but leaving was an impossibility. It had taken Jean months to get used to living outside of Edgar Allen, even longer for him to break old habits and even begin to recover from any of the pain those memories caused.

In the end, Kevin had still gotten him out, even if Jean had never asked for it.

“I can’t take back what I did. It was unforgivable to leave you there. But I had to get out, or neither of us would have—” Kevin’s breath hitched. “We both would have died in there. And I couldn’t bear to lose you, Jean. You’re all I have.”

It was an untrue statement, but it still sent a fresh twinge of pain through Jean’s heart. Kevin had found his father and his Foxes. Andrew and Neil might have orbited each other, but Kevin was still the celestial body passing through their shared gravities more often than not. Even the other Foxes had accepted him as their own. For him to still insist that Jean was at the top of the pecking order, after all these years, was so unexpected Jean barely believed it.

He wanted to tell Kevin as much, but the words caught in his throat. Kevin’s fingers still lay intertwined with his own between them. Jean’s fingers twitched involuntarily in their hold, prompting Kevin to squeeze his hand gently in response. It was far too vulnerable of a touch for Jean to stomach in the moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“Maybe it was stupid to come here. I just—I didn’t know where to go after Thea… well.” Kevin sighed, voice quivering. “I guess if she was one end of the leash, you’re the anchor on the other side.”

Jean’s heart had not stopped hammering a frantic rhythm in his chest since Kevin had first started talking, but somehow it intensified its beating now. “You can’t mean that.”

“Of course I mean it.” Kevin’s mouth quirked up in a sad smile. “In the end, it was always you.”

Fuck. Jean’s head snapped back to look at Kevin in surprise. All the work Jean had put into forgetting Kevin, to moving on, to stitching closed the gaping wound in his chest the other boy had left, undone with a sentence that Kevin said as easily as breathing.

Jean laughed. He hadn’t expected to. It came out sharp, unbelieving, like broken glass. “You think—”

He gulped down his words, trying to organize them into something more explanatory, hiding the desperate why? behind them that was threatening to spill out. He tried again, voice shaking. “You think you can just—just come back? Just say these things? Like you did not leave me, like you didn’t force me to move on?”

“Jean,” Kevin said, “please.”

If Jean didn’t know any better, he would have thought he sounded like he was begging. But Kevin Day did not beg for anything, hadn’t since another boy had held him down, crushed his hand, and ripped his future from him without mercy. Jean could not—would not—be the only other person Kevin would beg for.

Jean slowly closed his eyes. “This is not what you want, Kevin.”

“Jean,” Kevin said again, low and insistent. Jean didn’t dare open his eyes to see the other boy’s expression. No doubt Kevin was fixing him with that intense stare that always made Jean feel completely transparent, like he was made of glass. Kevin looked at him like he could see right through his inner walls, calloused and hardened from years of steeling himself against Riko’s torments, and into the soft, fleshy center that was Jean’s poor, bleeding heart.

Jean shook his head like doing so could rid his mind of the traitorous want that filled it. He tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking, torn between pushing Kevin away and desperately pulling him closer. The tension in his body was a rubber band about to snap, years of unrequited and tampered-down emotion threatening to spill out of him like a dam breaking. Jean squeezed his eyes shut tighter against the flood, but threw them open just as quickly at the first hard press of lips against his.

Kevin was kissing him. Kevin had a hand around his wrist and a thumb on his pulse point and was leaning forward on the bed to kiss him. Jean felt his heart drop into his stomach even as butterflies erupted in his chest, tugging him between pure elation and panic.

It was everything he had ever wanted. It was his deepest fear. Jean’s time in the Nest had felt like an eternity, and he had spent nearly every second of it tamping down his feelings for the the beautiful dark-haired boy who bandaged his wounds gently, who smiled softly at him when he thought no one was looking, who asked him to teach him French in hushed tones and hidden corners. For his teenage fantasies to come to life now, of all times, after all these years, was the last thing Jean had ever expected.

As Jean struggled to bring his brain back online, Kevin only continued on, either oblivious or impervious to Jean’s inner turmoil. Kevin kissed him, hard and bruising, fisting his hands into the collar of Jean’s shirt and tugging him closer when Jean didn’t move. He was frozen in place, caught like a deer in headlights, heart pounding in his chest and thoughts racing. He brought his hands up to rest atop Kevin’s, thinking he would push him away, but found himself unconsciously grasping tighter to them instead, frantically anchoring himself to Kevin’s firm hold.

Kevin moved one hand up, higher and higher, until his palm snaked around the back of Jean’s neck and gently squeezed. Jean’s eyes finally fluttered closed. The aborted whimper he let out at Kevin’s touch would have mortified him if he was thinking clearly, but his mind was clouded by need—either to run away or to let himself go limp in Kevin’s arms.

Kevin used his newfound leverage against Jean’s neck to pull them down until he was lying flat on his back, Jean supporting himself with just one shaky arm planted beside Kevin’s head. Jean was sorely tempted to let his arm collapse like it was threatening to and drop his full body weight onto Kevin. He needed to be closer, needed to feel Kevin’s heart beating against his, needed to twine their limbs so close together that you could no longer identify where Kevin ended and Jean began. That’s how it should have been from the start, shouldn’t it? Jean lived for Kevin, gave his body up and let his blood spill so that Kevin would remain untouched. Being beholden to Kevin was the only thing Jean had known for years—might as well give in and let him finally finish the job.

His world had narrowed only to the points of contact between them—Kevin’s knee resting against Jean’s waist, his careful grip on Jean’s neck, his leg where it rested between Jean’s thighs, and his unceasing kisses through it all. Kevin’s mouth was hot, though the rest of him was cold, and Jean was drowning in a warmth he hadn’t felt from the other man in years. Nowadays, all Jean’s warmth came from—

Jeremy. Jean’s eyes shot open suddenly. He forced himself to pull away from Kevin’s mouth, enticing as it was, and pushed up on shaky arms. Kevin keened as he moved away, a little sound that almost broke Jean’s resolve and sucked him right back into the other man’s embrace.

“Jeremy,” Jean said desperately in half-explanation. Kevin’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the word.

“What about Jeremy? Is he coming here soon?”

Jean shook his head wordlessly, not yet trusting himself to put words to his jumbled thoughts.

If Kevin was the star he revolved around, then Jeremy must have been another asteroid in his orbit—they had felt destined to crash into one another from the moment they met. It had been only a few months since Jean’s self control, weak as it was already, had finally snapped, and the two had tumbled into each other’s arms like it was all they knew how to do.

If kissing Kevin felt like falling, kissing Jeremy that first time had felt like flying. It was like Jeremy had lifted every burden off Jean’s shoulders, like Jean was a balloon with its strings cut. The word boyfriend still felt heavy in his mouth and on his conscience, neither him or Jeremy wanting to rush things or bite off more than they could chew. They had been taking things slow, only telling those closest to them about their newfound label, and Jean had to pinch himself every time he remembered how lucky he had gotten.

It was unfathomable for the Jean of the past to imagine himself in such a situation, unfathomable that he should get to experience such unrestricted affection. Jean wondered constantly at how someone who had been through so much, who was treated so badly by his partners for years on end, could still have such an endless supply of love and give it out so freely. There were times he wanted to keep every scrap of affection under lock and key, hoard it until Jeremy had no more to give out and could never waste it on anyone other than Jean again.

But here Jean was, kissing someone else—kissing Kevin, which was even worse, for so many reasons.

He needed out. Jean pushed himself up and away from Kevin, stumbling towards the door without a word. Before he could make it out of the room completely, he thought better of it and whirled back around to face Kevin.

“Stay,” he said, stabbing one long finger towards the bed. He meant it as a command, but the crack in his voice made it sound more like a plea. Jean didn’t wait for Kevin’s response, stepping out of the room and slamming the door tightly closed behind him.

Jean leaned back against the doorframe and gasped down several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart. What had he done? He already felt undeserving of Jeremy’s love on a good day, but this was a new low. Kevin was his moon and stars, but Jeremy was his sun. He had to call him, had to explain what had happened, had to explain—

Well. If Jeremy didn’t know how deeply messed up Jean’s feelings for Kevin were already, he was about to find out fast.

Jeremy picked up the phone after just one ring. “Jean. Sorry, I know I’m running late this morning, I had to wait for my mother to—”

Jean cut him off. “Kevin just kissed me.”

There was silence for a long moment. Jean could practically hear the gears turning in Jeremy’s brain. When he finally spoke again, it was with a hesitant tone. “Kevin… is there?”

“Yes,” Jean replied. “You gave him our address, reportedly.”

He felt more than heard Jeremy’s soft laugh, a quick rush of breath against the receiver. “I gave him your address, yes. What that doesn’t explain is what the hell he’s doing there.”

“That is what I said too.”

Jeremy laughed again, but stayed quiet after that. Jean was beginning to grow itchy waiting for Jeremy’s response, anxiety building in his stomach with every passing second. He was running through every possible explanation in his mind, trying to figure out how to phrase his thoughts in a language Jeremy would understand, when Jeremy beat him to it.

“So, Kevin is in California. He showed up at your house unannounced. And… he kissed you.”

Jean released the breath he had been holding. “Yes.”

Jeremy paused for a moment. “And—did you like it?”

Jean’s breath caught in his throat. He froze, panicked, not sure how to respond. He had expected anger, confusion, disappointment, jealousy—he was unsure how to respond to Jeremy’s hesitant, almost hopeful tone. “I—you—what?”

Jeremy’s answering laugh made Jean tense up even more. He could hear his fond smile even through the phone. “I asked if you liked it, Jean. No wrong answers here.”

Jean could barely hear the other man’s words through the rushing of his heart in his ears. Jeremy continued on unbidden. “I know you two have… history, and I know the way you feel about him.” Jean must have inhaled audibly enough for the phone to pick it up, because Jeremy was quick to reassure him. “I never meant to pry! I’m sorry if you didn't want me to know that, but, well, it’s not exactly hard to notice,” he said sheepishly.

Jean had no good defense for that statement, so he said nothing.

“I know how you feel about him. And I know how he feels about you.” Jean opened his mouth to argue that point, but Jeremy beat him to it like he could sense his tension through the phone. “You would have to be blind not to notice it, Jean, seriously. He asks about you every chance he gets. He’s been texting me about you for years now. Not to mention I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Jean let out a shuddering breath. “How does he look at me?”

He could hear the smile tinting Jeremy’s face as he responded. “The same way I do.”

His heart couldn’t take this kind of torture any more. Jean screwed his eyes shut, sliding down the door to sit with his head in his hands. Hearing it from Kevin was bad enough, could be excused away as a fit of insanity. But Jean knew Jeremy would not lie to him about something like this. He was his partner on and off the court. He knew him better than anyone else at this point. Jean could hear the truth in Jeremy’s words, and had no choice but to believe in it. But that came with its own set of problems, namely—

“Jeremy.”

“Jean.”

“What am I to do?”

Jeremy laughed again, the sound ringing in Jean’s ears through the tinny phone speakers. “Well, you have two options. One, you walk away. Kick him out of your house, whatever. If he doesn’t wanna leave, I’ll be there as fast as I can to drag him out. Protective boyfriend and all that.”

Jean huffed out an almost-laugh at the idea of Jeremy attempting to forcibly remove Kevin from the premises, even as his heart clenched at being called a—a boyfriend. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to hearing the word come from Jeremy’s lips. “What is option two?”

Jeremy was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, Jean could imagine the smirk he wore on the other side of the line. “Do you know the expression ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’?”

He had to think for a moment to translate, but soon Jean hummed in recognition. “We have it in French, too. Actually, I think you took that saying from us, not the other way around.”

Jeremy sighed in relief. “Thank god, I didn’t actually know how to translate that one. All I’m saying is, maybe in this scenario, Kevin is the gift horse.”

“I think he might try to kill you if he found out you called him a horse.”

Jeremy laughed again. Jean thought idly that he might be addicted to the sound. “The horse part is a metaphor, okay? What I mean is, Kevin’s presenting himself to you on a silver platter. I think you might be an idiot not to take this opportunity. Sorry,” he tacked on as an afterthought.

Jean heard the words Jeremy was saying to him. He understood them clearly. But his brain could not comprehend the message behind them. “It can not be that simple.”

“Why can’t it?”

“Jeremy.”

“Jean.”

Jean breathed deeply to steel himself for what he had to say. He wished more than anything they did not have to have this conversation through the phone, wished he could see Jeremy’s face and intuit his reactions to everything Jean had told him. It could not be that easy for Jeremy to hear this, to tell him to go after Kevin, to accept that his partner, his boyfriend, had kissed someone else—had kissed the person that he had been in love with for several long, long years.

Jean knew about Jeremy’s bad habit of disregarding his own comfort, especially in his romantic relationships. He refused to be another man in the long line of people treating Jeremy like he was second best.

“Jeremy. You cannot possibly accept this so easily. I will not let you throw away our relationship for Kevin, and I will not jeopardize it for him either.”

Jeremy’s exhale sounded shaky even through the phone. “I figured you’d say as much, although it is a relief to hear it out loud. Listen. You don’t have to explain yourself to me until you want to. I’m more surprised you two haven’t done this yet than I am that it’s happening now. I think it’s been a long time coming.” Jeremy laughed again, a little nervously this time. “And, well. I can’t say I haven’t thought about kissing him myself.”

He ignored Jean’s sharp intake of breath to keep going, brushing past that revelation like it hadn’t just rocked Jean’s world. “It’s always been about Kevin, hasn’t it? He’s Kevin Day. He’s impossible to look away from. He’s always at the center of it all. I know that as well as you do.”

Hearing his own thoughts echoed back at him by Jeremy was enough to soothe the last tired threads of anxiety in Jean’s heart. He sighed, digging a palm into his eyes in resignation. “You are, infuriatingly, right as always.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Jeremy said cheerily. “Jean, if our roles were reversed, I would have climbed Kevin Day like a tree forty minutes ago. As your boyfriend, I am not only allowing you, but actually begging you to go back in there and figure things out with him.”

Jean’s heart clenched with a mixture of love and trepidation. Jeremy had already said it was okay. Kevin himself was, apparently, a more-than-willing participant. Even still, Jean felt torn between years of repressed desire and the reality that he could, in fact, have what he wanted now.

It felt like too much to ask for. It was a sick form of greed. He already had Jeremy, who was everything he could want and more. Maybe a normal person would have forgotten about Kevin the second they had the sunshine captain in their arms instead. But it was like Jeremy had said—Kevin Day was the center of it all. He was a supernova too bright to ignore, a galaxy colliding into Jean whether he liked it or not.

Jean had tried his best to ignore the magnetic pull drawing him back to Kevin for years now. He was sick and tired of fighting against it. Maybe it was finally time to lie down and accept that he would always end up back at Kevin’s side.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I will go back and… climb Kevin, as you put it.”

Jean had to tilt the phone away from his ear to escape the loud whoop Jeremy let out. He didn’t think it was such a cause for celebration, but at least Jeremy was enjoying himself in this unexpected situation. Still, Jean needed to be extra clear on where they still stood as a couple, Kevin or no Kevin. “Jeremy. Come back to me.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just happy for you. Do you—I mean, you feel good about all this?”

Jean nodded before remembering Jeremy couldn’t see him through the phone. He hummed in affirmation instead. “I will… talk to him. Later.”

He could hear Jeremy’s shit-eating grin through the phone. “Yeah, later. I’m sure you’re gonna be busy doing other things before that, huh?”

“I don’t think I like it as much when you tease me, and not the other way around.”

Jeremy’s answering laugh soon faded into a comfortable silence between them. Jean’s heart felt full to bursting with affection for the other man. He would never get used to the amount of trust Jeremy placed in him, the easy way he accepted all of Jean’s flaws and faults and propped him up through even his lowest moments.

“Jeremy.”

“Yes, Jean?”

Jean gathered all the resolve he could muster to tell Jeremy how he felt. It was still difficult for him to open up more often than not, but Jeremy’s gentle reassurance made it easier to share the burden of his feelings. They were working on it.

“I… Thank you.” Jeremy began to say something, probably more reassurances, but Jean cut him off. “For everything. You are… everything I could ask for and more. You have always seen through the worst parts of me to find the good ones. Even when I thought I didn’t deserve it, even when all I could do was lash out. You still take all of me. I… appreciate it.”

It was an unsatisfying ending, but Jean couldn’t bring himself to say any more through the lump in his chest. He breathed in, exhaled out in a huff. “Okay. Enough of that. I’m going.”

Jeremy didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Jean could feel his smile through the phone. It was that soft one he reserved for Jab when he did something especially cute, for Cat and Laila when they were being sweet with each other, and for Jean when he thought he wasn’t looking.

He didn’t think Jeremy had realized yet that Jean was always looking.

“Bye, Jean. I—yeah. Let me know how it goes. I’ll see you later?” Jeremy’s voice tilted up in silent question.

Jean hummed his assent. “I will text you. Later.”

He hung up the phone and tried not to think too deeply about the bitten-off “I—” in Jeremy’s goodbye. Love had always felt like a foreign concept to Jean, closer to an unreachable fantasy than reality. Moving to California and experiencing love given out so freely among his friends had begun to change that opinion, but romantic love still felt like something he could never understand. Even still, the words “I love you” had made a constant home in his throat, choked down whenever he so much as looked at Jeremy. He had an inkling that Jeremy felt the same, if the way he had hung up was any indication.

It was a different kind of love than what he felt for Kevin, he knew that. Jean’s feelings for Kevin had always felt like a horrible burden, another reminder that he was not allowed to want anything more than the scraps he was given. But at the same time, it had been his one beacon of—it would be foolish to call it hope, but—it was a reminder that there was something, someone, still worth living for.

Kevin would leave the Nest, but he would always return. Always with a gift or a postcard for Jean, always with his mouth turned up in half a smile and an “I missed you” on his lips. It became the only thing Jean could hold onto; he yearned for those tiny moments of affection like they were the glue keeping him pieced flimsily together.

Even when Kevin was gone for good, even when Jean had run his voice raw and ragged cursing his name for his betrayal, he still could never extinguish the flames of his feelings for Kevin. They were not partners, they never would be, and it would be pointless to rely on Kevin for anything. Despite it all, Jean couldn’t help himself from lingering over Kevin for far longer than he ever should have.

When Jean had fully realized his feelings for Jeremy, when they had gotten together after months of dancing around the subject, he had wondered if that was it for the tiny voice inside him that was still in love with Kevin. Years of distance hadn’t eased that pain, and as it turns out, neither could Jeremy’s presence. Jeremy was wonderful, he was perfect, but he had not been there for Jean in all those dark years as a Raven; he would never know the true extent of what went on in the Nest like only Kevin could.

Jeremy was different, and new, and for that Jean was grateful. But he was right—Jean and Kevin were a collision waiting to happen. Whether or not it ended in disaster, it felt inevitable; Kevin knew Jean too intimately, better than anyone else. To cut him out of his life would be to take a piece of Jean with him.

The knowledge that Jeremy had feelings for Kevin too was unexpected, but not totally surprising. Anybody in the possession of two working eyes would use them to look at Kevin Day—he was practically perfect. Jean didn’t know what that divulgence would mean for their combined futures, but a tiny spark had formed deep within him that said it was worth revisiting later.

Much later. After he took care of more pressing matters.

Jean stood from the floor, stretching his aching joints until they popped. He felt much better after talking to Jeremy, at least. The only problem now was that he didn’t think he could hold himself back anymore.

Jean walked back into the bedroom to find that Kevin was as bad at following commands as expected. He had moved from his position on the bed and was staring at the wall of polaroids tacked above Jean’s desk.

Cat had gifted him a camera for his birthday, and though he hated being the subject himself, Jean had quickly grown attached to the photos he took of everyone else. They featured Jean and the floozies, as he had reluctantly joined in calling them, in various positions—Cat and Laila setting out containers on the grass for a picnic; Jeremy and Cody perched on the edge of a fountain between classes, mid-laugh about something forgotten; the floozies clustered around a bonfire on the beach, barely visible against the night sky and the glow of the fire.

Pinned in the center was the most recent addition—a picture of him and Jeremy taken just weeks before. It had been taken on their first real date. Jeremy had bought him flowers and twined his arms tightly around Jean’s middle as he drove them outside of the city on his bike. They were sitting in the grass at a park, cherry blossoms in bloom behind them. Jeremy’s arm disappeared out of one side of the frame, holding the camera pointed towards them. Jean was staring straight into the camera with an expression that had started as annoyance, but morphed into surprise mid-photograph as Jeremy had leaned in and kissed Jean on the cheek. The picture captured the barest hints of a blush on both of their faces, Jeremy’s eyes closed and content as he leaned into Jean, lips gently brushing against his face.

It was easily his favorite photograph on the wall.

Now, Kevin stood in front of the photo, leaning in close and studying it as if he was committing it to memory. At the sound of the door opening, he turned towards Jean with a pained expression on his face. Jean clicked the door shut softly behind him and leaned against it, unflinchingly meeting Kevin’s gaze as he ran through his next words in his mind.

Kevin beat him to it. “I didn’t know,” he blurted, words strained and brow furrowed. “That you and Jeremy had… I had no idea.” He was spluttering now, words coming out fast and breathless. “If I had, I wouldn’t have…”

Jean cut him off. “Kevin.”

Kevin’s mouth closed, but his expression suggested that he had more to say. The frustrated tilt of his brow as he bit back his words was a familiar sight—Jean had seen it on an exy court more times than he could count.

Jean sighed, crossing the room in long strides to stand in front of Kevin. He only had an inch or two of height on the other man, but the hesitant way Kevin shrunk into himself at his approach made it feel like a much larger gap.

He tilted Kevin’s chin up with one long finger, forcing him to meet his eyes. Kevin’s expression was as close to guilt as Jean had ever seen him.

“I just got off the phone with Jeremy.”

“Did you tell him I—”

“Yes.”

Kevin’s face wilted even more, crumpling in on itself like a wadded ball of paper. It wasn’t a good look on him. Jean hated himself for a moment for putting that expression on his face. His need to please Kevin, to satisfy him with his company for even just a second, was still so deeply ingrained in him that he had to fight not to let it consume him. They were far past that now, Jean’s lips still buzzing with Kevin’s sudden kiss and his unexpected confession ringing in his head, but he still felt it pulling at him, that ancient compulsion to be good enough for Kevin in all his untouchable glory.

This time, Kevin couldn’t stop his mouth from opening, apologies tumbling out like it was killing him to keep them inside. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you didn’t—I should have known better. He’s… you’re good together, I would never want to ruin that. I fucked up, I’m sorry, just tell him I’m—”

It was impossible to listen to. Jean silenced him with a bruising kiss, gripping his chin and pulling Kevin up to meet his hungry mouth.

Kevin’s hands rushed to cling to Jean at the first press of lips against his, twisting into his hair and clutching at his shoulders like he couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second. It did something to Jean’s psyche, feeling the physical evidence of Kevin’s want. He hadn’t thought that desire was ever reserved for him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hoard it, see just how far he could push until Kevin’s pride kept him from reaching out for more.

Kevin whimpered into his mouth, a tiny noise that Jean wanted to bite out of him. He did just that, nipping at Kevin’s bottom lip until his mouth opened wide enough for Jean to slip his tongue in and run it across the back of his teeth.

Jean’s hands fell to Kevin’s waist as they kissed, toned and slim from hours and hours of training. His blood rushed south as he realized he could fit both hands around his waist with only centimeters between them. He used his newfound grip to pull Kevin impossibly closer, slotting a leg between his thighs and pressing up.

Kevin’s answering groan was music to Jean’s ears. He felt a consuming need to hear more, to make Kevin open up prettily underneath him and beg for it.

Jean walked them back until Kevin’s legs hit the bed. He fell into a seated position on the edge, hands still fisted in Jean’s shirt, inadvertently pulling him forward until Jean was leaning over him, supporting himself with a hand planted on the mattress for balance. Kevin looked up at him with an expression that Jean knew would be burned into his eyelids for the rest of his days; his eyes were deep pools of emerald, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open and lips bitten red.

Jean didn’t know how he had resisted this for so long. Now that he had Kevin Day underneath him, he was going to be craving this view every day of his life.

Kevin grabbed at his shirt, trying in vain to pull Jean closer. He looked desperate, clawing at Jean wherever he could reach and breathing heavily. “Kiss me.”

Jean’s heart pounded with adrenaline. “Ask nicely.”

“Please.” Kevin’s voice broke on a whine, grip tightening around Jean’s collar. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“You kept me waiting long enough.”

“Then let me make up for lost time.” Kevin wrapped his hand gently around the back of Jean’s neck and tugged him down to eye level, leaning back so far that Jean was forced to grab at his waist to keep him upright. “Please, Jean. I want this. I want you.”

Jean stared at him a beat longer, looked closely at the dark and desperate pleading in Kevin’s eyes. There should have been nothing left in that gaze for Jean to take; he had thought whatever grace Kevin still had for him had run out long ago. But here he was, right in front of Jean, looking and seeing for what felt like the first time in years.

When he leaned in to kiss him, it was soft, a stark contrast to the sharp intensity with which Kevin had kissed him before. Kevin melted like putty in his arms, relaxing until Jean’s hold was the only thing keeping him afloat.

Gently, Jean lowered Kevin fully down to the bed, crawling over him with a hand cradling his head and one knee planted between his thighs. They traded gentle kisses, pouring everything that had gone unsaid for years into the press of their mouths against one another.

It was everything Jean had ever wanted. It wasn’t enough. He pushed harder into Kevin’s mouth, letting his tongue slip between his lips and his hands wander. Kevin laid back and took it, moaning into the kiss and scratching his nails into Jean’s back.

Suddenly, Kevin stopped, stiffening where he lay beneath Jean. He pushed Jean away slightly, still gripping onto his shoulders like he couldn’t stand the thought of being more than 6 inches away from him. “What about Jeremy?”

Jean grimaced. Of course Kevin would want to talk about this now. He had never had a conscience before—Jean wasn’t sure whether to be proud that he had finally developed one or annoyed that it had finally reared its head when Jean was so close to getting what he had always wanted.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels. Kevin propped himself up on his elbows to listen. It was near impossible to focus when Kevin looked this good—hair mussed from being pushed into the pillows, cheeks flushed in breathless exertion. Somehow, Jean forced the words out anyways.

“Me and Jeremy discussed it. He thinks this is… good for us. He said it was a long time coming. And we agreed it wouldn’t change anything between us.”

Kevin’s face relaxed into relief and—something else Jean couldn’t place. He might have called it nervousness, but it looked almost closer to hope. Curious, he cocked his head, wanting to see how Kevin would react to his next words.

“He also said he couldn’t blame me for kissing you, since he had thought about doing it himself.”

Kevin’s reaction was even better than Jean had expected. His breath caught on a squeak, whole face flushing down to his collarbones. He hadn’t thought it possible for Kevin’s eyes to dilate any more, but now his pupils grew until there was nothing more than a sliver of green visible in the iris. Jean catalogued the twitch of his hips beneath him, the way Kevin’s arms trembled with the effort of holding himself up.

“He—he said that?”

Jean couldn’t hide the pleased grin spreading across his face. He had always suspected that Kevin harbored some kind of feelings for Jeremy, seeing as even back in the Nest he had never missed watching a Trojans game and taking every opportunity to comment on Jeremy’s good form and talent. Jean’s jealousy over Kevin’s attention being grabbed by someone else had quickly turned into begrudging appreciation—Jeremy was undeniably attractive, and talented to boot. It was gratifying to learn that he had been right all along—it was even more gratifying to know that, for once in his life, Jean had something Kevin didn’t.

“Yes, he said that.” Jean reached out to trace a finger lightly up Kevin’s thigh, stopping just as he reached the hem of his shorts and looping a teasing path up and down. “Seems like you’re his... how do you say? Ah, celebrity crush.”

Kevin’s blush deepened further than previously thought possible. He squirmed under Jean, eyes twitching away like he didn’t know where to look.

Jean smirked wide and leaned in closer. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll tell him you want to kiss him too.”

If Kevin was blushing before, he was nearly scarlet with it now. He choked on a moan, wild eyes snapping back to Jean’s. “Kiss me. Now. Please,” he tacked on, a little breathlessly. His hands were back to scrabbling at Jean’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer.

Who was Jean to deny him that request?

He surged forward to claim Kevin’s mouth with his own once again. Kevin’s hands were everywhere, running through Jean’s hair, grabbing at his shirt, fingers slipping below the hem and skating gingerly over his sides. Jean took the hint and pulled the shirt over his head in one smooth move. Every touch felt like fire running up his ribs, burning and soothing all at once. He leaned in as close as he could, pressing up against Kevin until he was nearly buried in the mattress.

Jean had been holding himself back before, but now his hands were free to wander. He ran them reverently over Kevin’s shoulders, his arms, up strong thighs and the soft curve of his waist. He touched the places he had dreamed of touching for years, pressing kisses to the bridge of Kevin’s nose, the mole on his jawline, the soft spot just below his ear. Kevin moaned into every brush of Jean’s lips with a sound that shot straight to his dick.

He pulled away for only a moment, tugging intently at Kevin’s shirt. Kevin took the hint immediately, raising his arms obediently and letting Jean pull his shirt up and over. Jean’s mouth watered at the newly exposed stretch of skin. He nosed at Kevin’s neck, teeth barely grazing his pulse point as his hands mapped out every curve and chisel of Kevin’s torso.

When his hands brushed lower and skated across Kevin’s ass, he gave a startled yelp. Jean moved his hands away immediately. An apology rested on the tip of his tongue, pulling away to meet Kevin’s eyes, but Kevin beat him to it.

“Sorry—sorry—don’t stop,” he panted. He was still squirming underneath Jean, pushing his crotch up in a gentle rhythm that had Jean tensing above him, but Jean still kept his hands safely planted on Kevin’s waist.

“Is something wrong?”

Kevin groaned, throwing an arm over his face to hide the red spreading across it. He peeked one eye out from beneath it to look back at Jean. “Nothing’s wrong, I just—I didn’t know how far you wanted to go.”

Jean leveled him with an incredulous look. “You started this. How did you think it was going to end?”

Kevin flushed deeper and scowled lightly. “I don’t know, I just… I didn’t know if you had, or if it was okay, since,” he trailed off.

A familiar spike of cold fear and anger rose up in the pit of Jean’s stomach, but it was duller now—melted away long ago by Jeremy and his unwavering support. “I am not some blushing virgin you need to worry about,” he said. “I am dating Jeremy, you know. And he is Jeremy. What do you think we have been doing this whole time?”

Kevin buried his face further into his arm with a groan. “I try not to think about you doing that.”

“So you think about it.”

“That is not what I said.”

Jean leaned in to murmur directly into Kevin’s ear. “What are you thinking about now?”

Kevin whined, hips rocking up almost unconsciously. “You,” he said breathlessly, “just you. I thought about it the whole way here—what it would be like to touch you, or to—to kiss you.”

“Just kiss?”

Kevin was downright glaring now, even through the blush. He turned his head to look fully at Jean. “This is not a fair interrogation. What do YOU want?”

Well. Today was a day for honesty, after all. Jean pulled back just enough to look at Kevin fully.

“I have wanted to do many things to you, Kevin.”

He ran his hands up and down Kevin’s sides, teasing his fingers just under the swell of his pecs. He thought about all their years of history, all the impossibilities of a relationship between them; he thought about yearning for something he knew he could never have, a common theme in Jean’s life, and tried hard not to think about the great importance of having it finally proven to him, after an eternity of having nothing, that it was possible to have the things he wanted.

“I used to dream about you kissing me, back in the Nest,” he mused. “In those dreams, we would not get caught—we would be safe together—you returned my feelings, as childish as they were.”

Jean paused. His eyes flicked up to Kevin’s, watching his face carefully for a reaction.

“There was a time, after you left, I dreamed about killing you.”

Kevin’s breath hitched. Jean kept going.

“I thought about holding the knife to you as he always did to us. I thought about my hands on your throat and wondered what kind of face you would make without any oxygen. I thought about opening your chest, taking a rib out, and replacing it with one of my own.”

Jean shuddered. “I hated you for leaving me. I wanted to carve my name into your heart so that you could never entertain the thought of forgetting me again.”

Kevin looked like he was about to cry. “I never forgot you, Jean. I would let you take a rib. Fuck—I would give it to you. You have to understand that now.”

“I am… working on it. The understanding. But…” Jean traced one finger in a spiral over Kevin’s heart in a matching pattern with his own chest. “The truth is that I forgave you long ago. More than hating you, I hated myself for still loving you. Despite it all. You, infuriatingly, have a permanent place in my soul.”

Jean startled at the feeling of warm hands on his face. Kevin cupped his cheeks and traced over his tattoo, the last number standing out of their matched set. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears—he blinked through them to look up at Jean with the softest look he had ever seen on Kevin’s face.

“Jean,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry. For everything. And I am sorry that it took me so long to do this.”

Jean leaned in to knock their foreheads together. “I am glad you did it now.”

Their faces were so close he could feel every puff of Kevin’s breath against his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving lower, kissing around Kevin’s jaw, nibbling gently at his ear.

“Most of all…”

Jean teethed at Kevin’s neck. He smoothed his hands over his chest, his waist, before gripping his hips.

“I am thinking of how badly I want to devour you right now.”

Suddenly, the room was spinning around Jean. Kevin wrapped his legs around his middle and flipped their positions in one fluid move that made Jean’s heart skip a beat. From his new seat atop Jean’s lap, Kevin looked down at him with an almost predatory expression. His eyes were darker than Jean had ever seen them.

“Fuck me.”

Kevin flushed even as he said it, reddening up to the tips of his ears. Jean felt his breath catch in his throat. He sat up fast, nearly knocking Kevin off his lap if not for the arm solidly around his waist keeping him in place. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure,” Kevin scoffed. “Please. I want to—” He cut himself off, biting back his words and looking away quickly.

Jean moved his free hand to Kevin’s face, thumb running over the queen tattooed on one sharp cheekbone. “Want to what?”

Kevin closed his eyes, gave a shuddering sigh, and said, “I want to give this to you. I want to feel you inside me. I want to be—connected. Like we used to be.”

Jean’s grip on Kevin’s waist tightened involuntarily. He was shaking with the effort of holding himself back. Every word out of Kevin’s mouth made him crazy—he had never imagined the other man capable of saying anything like this.

He moved his hand to cup Kevin’s jaw, tilting his head until he could meet him in an open mouthed kiss. Kissing him now still gave Jean the same thrill as when Kevin had kissed him only hours prior. He thought his heart might beat out of his chest when he remembered that this was real, this was happening, Kevin was here and Kevin wanted him in the same way that Jean had fantasized about for years.

Jean guided Kevin to lift his hips, sliding off his pants, then his boxers. He went obediently, pressing close to Jean again as soon as the offending articles were removed.

“You too,” he panted, pawing at the band of Jean’s shorts. Jean acquiesced, pulling them quickly off and marveling at the way Kevin’s jaw fell open as his cock, already flushed hard and red, stood up against his stomach.

Kevin pushed their hips together, rolling into Jean with a groan in a way that made Jean think he was not going to last long enough to give Kevin what he wanted. He licked up Kevin’s neck, kissing him like he couldn’t get enough of the taste.

This time, when he cupped Kevin’s ass in his hands, he was met with a filthy moan.

Jean gripped his cheeks, spreading them to expose his fluttering hole. Kevin whimpered with the motion and pushed back into his hands. He never stopped kissing Jean, licking into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip, whimpering every time their tongues met.

Jean pulled away for only a moment, reaching into the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube. When Kevin saw it, he whined, fingers tangling into Jean’s hair and body pressing even closer.

“Go slow,” Kevin panted. “I’ve never—”

All the breath left Jean’s lungs in one quick exhale like it was sucked out of him. “You’ve never, and you want me to—”

“Yes,” Kevin cut him off.

Knowing that it was Kevin’s first time bottoming ignited something dark and wanting in Jean. Virginity was a construct, sure—Cat and Laila had made sure to drill that fact into Jean—but Jean’s possessive streak ran deep. The part of him that still wanted to claim Kevin as his own and keep him all to himself was thrilled at the idea of seeing Kevin in a way no one else had. It wasn’t fair—both Kevin and Jean had escaped their master years ago—but he ached to take control, to show Kevin in actions what he hadn’t ever been able to say in words.

Jean pressed one delicate kiss to Kevin’s lips. He traced a finger around his hole, clutching Kevin tighter when he shuddered. “You are perfect. Did you think about my fingers in you the whole way here?”

He coated one finger liberally in lube before circling Kevin’s entrance. Kevin gasped, face screwed up in concentration. “I’m not—does it matter?”

“I’m curious.”

Kevin blushed furiously. “Yes, I thought about it. Happy?”

“Yes.”

When Jean slid a finger in up to the first knuckle, Kevin’s body went taut and rigid.

“Relax. It will not hurt if you are not tense.”

Kevin nodded, eyes scrunched shut. He relaxed minutely, hole adjusting to the wet slide of Jean’s finger. Kevin clung to Jean's shoulders like a lifeline, pulling himself closer until their bodies were molded tightly together.

Jean took his time opening Kevin up. He pumped one finger in and out agonizingly slowly, watching intently as Kevin shook and gasped around it. When he could take that finger with no resistance, Jean added a second, scissoring his fingers in a way that spread Kevin’s hole wide.

Kevin took it greedily, clutching at Jean’s head and shoulders and mumbling gibberish into his hair. The tension had left his body ages ago, instead pushing his ass back hungrily to take more. Jean added another finger, then another, relishing in the way Kevin’s hole clenched around each one, until he had four fingers thrusting into him with a slick squelch.

Kevin pulled back, cupping Jean’s face. “I’m ready,” he said, “put it in.”

Jean exhaled shakily. It felt like standing on the precipice of a cliff, about to tumble over into uncharted territory. He reached for the bedside table, feeling around for the forgotten box of condoms tucked into the back of a drawer, before a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Don’t—” Kevin huffed a sigh through his embarrassed flush. “You don’t need one.”

Jean froze for a second, blood redirected far too quickly from his brain, before he withdrew his hand.

“Okay.”

He guided Kevin to lean up on his knees, positioning himself below his waiting hole. “Ready?”

Kevin nodded, hands clutching at Jean’s face. They locked eyes just as Jean began to breach his entrance.

His eyes never strayed from Jean’s as he fed his cock into Kevin inch by inch.

When he finally bottomed out, the tension bled out of Kevin’s body all at once. He slumped into Jean’s hold with a sharp sigh. “Fuck. You feel so—big.”

Jean ran a hand soothingly up Kevin’s back and tried to even out his breathing. Being inside him felt like cradling a bomb to his chest—like he could explode at any moment and there was nothing he could do about it. Their bodies clicked together like puzzle pieces, a perfect match. It had only been a few moments, but Jean never wanted this feeling to end.

“Are you—”

“Good,” Kevin breathed, “I feel good.”

He pulled back just enough to meet Jean’s eye. “Now fuck me.”

Finally, Jean started to move.

He pushed up slowly, watching the way Kevin’s breath caught and eyes fluttered closed with the movement. He used his grip on Kevin’s waist to move his body up and down his cock, thrusting deeper each time.

Like this, pressed chest-to-chest, Jean could take in every inch of Kevin’s body, catalog every twitch and every gasp. He felt Kevin’s heartbeat, a warm and solid pattern against his own. It made him want to sink his teeth into Kevin’s chest and tear.

Jean’s eyes stayed locked on Kevin’s face, only millimeters away. They weren’t kissing so much as they were sharing air, breathing hard and panting heavily into the space between each other’s mouths.

Each thrust was punctuated by Kevin’s moans, his grip on Jean tightening wherever he could reach the deeper he pushed.

“Harder,” he gasped out, “you can go harder.”

That invitation was hard to pass up. Jean tightened his grip on Kevin’s hips, hoping vaguely they would bruise by the end of this, and thrust up into a spot that had Kevin crying out above him.

“Fuck, Jean!” Kevin threw his head back in pure pleasure, exposing the long column of his neck. Jean leaned in to bite gently at his carotid, a move which pulled another moan out of Kevin. He sucked a hickey into the side of his neck, never ceasing his thrusts.

When he determined Kevin’s neck sufficiently mauled, Jean moved lower, biting at his collarbone before taking one of Kevin’s nipples into his mouth and sucking.

Kevin moaned loud, louder than he had been all day. He rolled his hips and pushed his chest up to meet Jean’s mouth. “Oh god, Jean, please, it feels so—”

Jean looked up from his place at Kevin’s chest, meeting his eye with his tongue still rolling lazily around one nipple. “Good?”

A rush of pride went through him as Kevin whimpered at the sight. He clenched around Jean’s cock in a way that had him hissing in pleasure.

“Yes, feels good, don’t ever stop,” Kevin whined. Jean smirked, closing his eyes and returning to licking and sucking at each nipple in turn.

He lost himself in the rhythm of pleasuring Kevin. He could have been there for a minute, an hour—it was impossible to tell. Seconds blurred into one another. Jean’s world was reduced to his mouth on Kevin’s chest, his hands on Kevin’s hips, and his cock pulsing steadily inside him.

Jean was growing addicted to the sound of Kevin’s moans. Each one sent a thrill through him, nerves lighting up with adrenaline. It motivated him to thrust harder, bite more, push closer until their bodies were so tightly melded together they could merge into one. He wanted to be good for Kevin, good enough that he could never think about leaving him again.

“Please, please, let me be good for you.”

Hearing the echo of his own thoughts made Jean pause. Had he said that out loud? No, it was Kevin, writhing on top of him, voicing exactly what Jean had been thinking for years now. He felt lightheaded with the realization that at some point their roles had been swapped; no longer was Jean left to pine hopelessly after an unattainable goal. That goal was now right in front of him, cradled in his arms, panting into his mouth like a dog in heat.

It was a dangerous situation to be in. Having this much power over Kevin was bound to go to his head. He decided to take advantage of it before the shame of what he was doing caught up to him.

Jean braced his feet against the bed and thrust up into Kevin with renewed fervor. “Kevin,” he panted, words coming to him all at once, “you are so beautiful. You are so good for me, mon chéri. All mine.”

His words paired with one particularly hard thrust had Kevin’s eyes flying open with a moan. He looked down, whining at what Jean was sure was a pathetically wanting expression on his face, before pressing their mouths together in a desperate clash. The kiss was more teeth than tongue, each of them trying to take a piece of the other, but it didn’t matter—not when Jean could taste Kevin’s desire with every press of his lips.

Kevin tucked his face into Jean’s neck. “Fuck—Jean—I love you.”

Jean’s breath caught in his chest like the wind had been knocked out of him, hips stuttering.

“I love you,” Kevin continued, “don’t stop—I’m gonna—”

Oh god, Jean was not going to survive this. He growled into Kevin’s shoulder, one hand leaving its post on Kevin’s hip to clutch into his hair instead, pulling him impossibly closer.

Loving Kevin was an objective, immutable fact. Jean had ignored it somewhat successfully for years until Kevin had barged in this morning with his confession. In a matter of hours, Jean’s whole world had been turned upside down by the newfound possibility of having. Everything he didn’t think he’d get, everything that had been taken from him, he forgot it all—in this moment, all that mattered was reaching out and taking what he wanted.

Jean Moreau had loved Kevin Day for an eternity. He was tired of pretending otherwise.

“Love you,” Jean managed through gritted teeth. “Je t’aime. Mon cœur, it’s always you.”

It was only a matter of seconds before Kevin was arching on his cock with a cry, spilling untouched onto both their stomachs. Jean was quick to follow, thrusting fast and deep several times before burying himself in Kevin with a groan. He saw stars as he came, nervous system wholly overloaded with pleasure and pure emotion.

Jean felt dazed at the sensation of his cum filling Kevin, marking him as his in a tangible way. His heart ached to fill him again and again until the only thing Kevin could feel was Jean. He breathed into the space between them, calming his racing heart as his senses slowly came back to him.

When Jean attempted to remove Kevin from his softening cock, he whimpered, rolling his head into Jean’s shoulder to look up at him. Tears glittered in the corner of his eyes.

“Leave it in? I don’t want to… I like it like this.”

Jean couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Like this, they were connected in every way possible. It felt cosmically right, somehow, to be intertwined with Kevin; he wanted to stay pressed together until the edges of their bodies bled together like watercolors. It suited them, he thought. They had spent enough time brushing against each the outskirts of each other’s souls—their union felt long overdue by now.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up tightly in each other, until the feeling of cum drying between them became too much for Jean to bear. He nudged Kevin slightly, marveling at the easy way Kevin moved off him with just a touch. Even years of distance couldn’t erase the muscle memory of sharing space with one another, moving in tandem with only a glance.

Jean shook those thoughts out of his head in favor of grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom, returning quickly to pet at the mess of fluids covering Kevin’s body. Kevin murmured quiet thanks, taking the cloth from Jean’s hand as soon as he finished and returning the favor with gentle touches.

His hands traced over the scars dotting Jean’s body as he worked. Jean wondered if he was remembering the story behind each wound like Jean was—here, Kevin had stitched his chest together; there, he had pressed warm hands to the spot where a bruise would soon form. Their shared history was carved permanently into Jean’s body, a constant reminder of what they had gone through to get to this point. Jean had made peace with his scars long ago—they were as much a part of him as his hair or his eyes—but it sent a pang of emotion through him to feel Kevin rewriting that history with every delicate touch.

They ended up twined together on the bed, Kevin’s head pillowed on Jean’s chest with an arm slung over his torso. Jean wrapped his arms around Kevin’s shoulders and unthinkingly pressed a kiss to his temple. That got a soft sigh out of Kevin, who wiggled impossibly closer until there wasn’t a single millimeter separating their bodies.

They must have made a beautiful picture, Jean thought. Kevin looked good like this—sharp edges worn away by exhaustion, his face and body relaxing into something softer. The midday sun fell across his face in a way that made his tan skin light up golden. Jean traced the slope of Kevin’s jaw and the arch of his cheekbones with his eyes and thought, not for the first time, how lucky he was to even lay eyes on Kevin.

As if he could hear Jean’s wandering thoughts, Kevin cracked one eye open to look up at him. It was unfair how the sunlight lit his eyes up like seaglass. Jean allowed himself to look his fill for what felt like the first time, petting a hand through Kevin’s hair.

“How do you feel?”

Kevin kept his gaze trained on Jean as he answered. “I think I’m going to bruise.”

“That was the intention, yes.”

“Well, you certainly achieved it.” Kevin rolled his shoulders with a groan. “What am I going to say at practice? ‘Sorry I missed that shot, I’m too sore from all the gay sex’?”

Jean huffed a tiny laugh, corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. Kevin’s eyes softened at the sight.

“There you are.” He traced a thumb over Jean’s lips. “There was a time I was worried I would never get to see you smile again.”

That was too much for Jean to handle. He buried his face in Kevin’s hair with a shuddering sigh. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He felt Kevin’s grin without needing to see it. “I think I have some idea.”

“Big words from the man who came untouched just from my cock in him.”

That got him a soft punch in the side from Kevin. Jean pushed back lightly, giving in to an easy back-and-forth that was as natural as breathing for them.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Now that the tension of their earlier conversations had been eased, a kind of strange stillness settled over them. Jean wasn’t sure where to go from here—he had everything he had ever wanted in his arms, but it wasn’t a permanent fix. There were too many things to consider—a Jeremy to think about—his head swam with the possibilities of what could go wrong and the question of how to sort through his tangled feelings.

Kevin seemingly read his mind, shifting in his arms before meeting his gaze again. “Should we… talk about this?”

Jean sighed. It was time to face reality, he knew, but a selfish part of him wanted to stay in this moment forever. He wished he could capture time in a bubble, preserve this perfect moment where Kevin was his and eliminate the possibility of it all coming crashing down.

Instead, he said, “We will talk about it when Jeremy gets here.”

Kevin nodded, shoulders tightening—with nervousness or excitement, Jean couldn’t tell. “Are you sure he’s—”

“I’m sure.” Jean punctuated his words with a gentle squeeze. “Stop worrying. You think now that I have you like this, I’m going to lose you again?”

There it was again, that look in Kevin’s eyes like he was going to cry. Jean shoved Kevin’s face further into his chest, burying a kiss into his hair.

“No more running away from me. From this.”

Kevin nodded in his grasp, hiding a shuddering breath in the meat of Jean’s shoulder. “I promise you, Jean. No more running away.”

Jean clutched Kevin closer to him. Even as the midday sun crept high into the sky, exhaustion seemed to have finally caught up to the both of them. The sex had worn him out, sure, but Jean felt even more drained by the mental strain this day had put on him. His emotions had been a roller coaster all morning, bouncing between desire and fear and happiness so fast it was giving him whiplash.

Now, though, he felt—satisfied. The last lingering bits of uncertainty slipped away from his body, leaving nothing but a calm acceptance in their wake. Jean let his eyes slip closed, comfortable and sated by the promise of waking up with Kevin still in his arms.

As he drifted to sleep, he barely caught the words whispered into the crook of his neck.

Je t’aime pour toujours.