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He was used to getting his hopes up about what wasn't meant to be.
He was used to having his world crashing down.
If he kept himself in check he would never make the same mistake of trusting again.
He did not dare trust at all.
He wouldn't have to deal with the pain that came from it, that always inevitably came of it.
But he did.
The Trojans wore down his defences, slowly but surely, piece by piece, brick by brick. It took them half a year of knowing him to chip, and disassemble everything he'd fought to keep down for the better half of a decade.
I am Jean Moreau. I belong to the Moriyamas.
I am Jean Moreau. I will endure.
I am Jean Moreau. I have always gotten what I deserve.
These were the truths he lived by, the truths he so desperately repeated as he was brought down again and again, scarred by actions he never really deserved. Actions he always thought he deserved.
It was an unnerving feeling, learning his absolute truths were not so true after all. It was a semblance of a new beginning, a breath of fresh air, of freedom. It also meant losing himself, and all he considered right in the world, because who really is Jean Moreau if not number 3, if not Perfect Court?
Naturally, these feelings did dissipate with time. Never really out of reach, but never the innate truths they used to be. He was slowly shown a life outside of the Nest, outside of the Ravens. A mixture of the exhilarating feeling of autonomy he did not quite know how to deal with, and the sheer annoyance of his (seemingly) naïve housemates was what he felt when he wasn't reminded of the past. The people he lived with were idiots, but they were persistent. When he did inevitably spiral because of the trauma endured, they got him back on track, never letting him stray for too long no matter how he tried to keep them out.
Cat had taught him how to cook, and he was able to help out in the kitchen more than he'd ever anticipated. He was still often following the ratios instilled from the Ravens, but the act of cooking itself was not so bad after all. It grounded him, kept him in the present, and took his mind off of useless thoughts. And he let himself make exceptions sometimes, like the cake the three of them made for Jean's birthday. He hadn't even told them when it was, but he suspected they did some digging in his files. Nevermind that, it was his first actual celebration so the details were of little importance, he was changing.
And his wardrobe too. At some point the girls realised it was way too overwhelming a change for him to go to the mall with the purpose of filling up his shelves. Laila instead insisted on 'slowly building it up', which meant they'd go and get him something once every two weeks. This did not make him like the mall any more, but the arrangement did prove beneficial over the past few months. Laila would pick a different store downtown every time, and the two of them would go in the afternoon to pick something for Jean, often a couple things for Laila too, and then they would go on a walk. He enjoyed walking, and Laila would always chatter away about different things keeping his mind off of unpleasant thoughts. Thus his wardrobe was steadily growing, and though not all that colourful, the time reserved for shopping wasn't something he particularly disliked anymore.
Riding with Cat was also a regular occurrence by this point. She did give him the practice bike from her uncle's shop a few months back (after many arguments) and just like she'd told him - he liked-no loved it. Seeing the outside world was only possible through Kevin's postcards for so long, he'd forgotten how beautiful it is to experience it. To just be. Horizons spanning in front of him, open roads with the sea on one side, and the breeze all around him - it was its own miracle. He did collect a couple by this point.
The ones vividly in the forefront of his mind right now were the sunshine court, now holding the most vibrant memories of his life, and sunshine incarnate - Jeremy Knox. He loved the feeling of sun on his skin, still able to remember the suffocating feeling of living in the Nest, he had made it a habit to look out of his bedroom window when spending the day at home just because he could.
Home, it really did feel like it, and he never thought he would experience that feeling, not after he left Marseille, not after he left Elodie...
It was home on the mornings Cat liked to play music obnoxiously loud specifically to wake everyone. It was home on the quiet nights they watched movies together, which he still found hard finding the purpose of, but enjoyed the playful banter. It was home when they would huddle up and eat together, talk together, play games together - Cat, Laila, and Jeremy, and Barkbark in the living room. Yes, that cutout was still there. Jeremy liked having it around, and it was interesting to play games with Barkbark, but nobody seemed to mind.
And neither did Jean by this point, except for when Jeremy would leave it in their room. He insisted it would keep Jean company, but honestly in moments like these Jean did not want anyone's company. Well... maybe a certain someone, but definitely not the dog!
Jean was laying on his bed, thinking about Jeremy's toned thighs. Again. They were a miracle on their own really, with the amount of times Jean focused on them specifically, no matter that his partner was all lean muscle. Of course he was toned, they both were - they were Exy players for God's sake! But there really was just something about Jeremy's goddamn thighs. His sunkissed freckled skin, buttery sweet smile, and gentle words, gentle touch. Oh how he'd missed his touch.
Over the months his feelings had developed, because of course they had. Thankfully the sunshine captain was indeed interested in him as well, and has slowly stripped Jean of his defences, layer by layer with his soft smile, encouraging words, and unending reserve of patience. It hasn't been easy, Jean had never had good romantic nor sexual experiences before him. The fact that some people still believed him to be sleeping his way to the top did not make his situation better either.
It was natural for him to slip into the headspace his past experiences put him in and fold on himself, often feeling like they were going one step forward and two steps back, but Jeremy's patience never wavered. They've had to stop on many occasions, and Jean's had to actually open up to Dr. Dobson about it to progress, but Jeremy had worked with him, helped him relax, grounding him. He never treated Jean like he was fragile, and he wasn't - they were equals in this. After everything he'd been through establishing this with himself was not an easy task, but they both worked on things together.
Thing was, however, now that he has experienced the enjoyment of safe and pleasurable sex he couldn't seem to stop wanting more. It was an all-consuming feeling he had never experienced, and it had taken him many sessions with Dr. Dobson, as well as a lot of conversations with Jeremy to comprehend that this was normal, and okay. It was easier to slip into unhealthy coping mechanisms when he didn't know what to do, but falling back on his support system - because he actually had one now, was getting easier every time.
So there he was, waiting for Jeremy to finish his shower, getting more impatient by the minute. Jeremy took ridiculously long showers, and because most days Jean preferred his efficient ones he opted out of showering together today. Which was proving to be a regret of his the longer Jeremy was not with him. What is he even doing in there?
...
The thought of Jeremy in the shower got him flushing even more. God, this was not going to cut it. Just as he got on his feet to get Barkbark and his condescending smile out of there, the door creaked open.
"Jean..?" Jeremy sent him a quizzical look.
A towel was wrapped around his waist with water still dripping from his hair down his shoulders. Jean was a dead man. Or would be if he couldn't get his hormones under control.
Shamelessly ogling his boyfriend wasn't something he would be doing for the first time, but it wasn't easy to be -shameless- with the innocent face of Barkbark staring up at him. Anyone could say whatever they wanted about him, and he wouldn't care, but he drew the line at being judged by a cardboard cutout.
He moved for the dog but didn't make it far before Jeremy inquired again.
"What's going on?" his concern was so genuine that Jean couldn't let himself dwell on it before he got Barkbark out of the room.
"Talk to me," Jeremy pleaded as Jean picked up the dog, which threw the man off and he just stared.
Jean went for the door and Jeremy moved out of the way, without taking his eyes off of Jean. By this point he had learned that sometimes Jean did not explain himself, and all Jeremy could do was watch and see what would happen. It was possible to mean that something was indeed wrong, but other times it was something completely different, and Jeremy was trying to figure it out.
When Jean got back without Barkbark, Jeremy hadn't moved from his side at the door. "Why don't you want Barkbark here?" he tried again.
Jean considered him with a look and moved to close the door, settling next to Jeremy's side. "I was having... thoughts," he said.
Jeremy studied him for a moment and asked, "What thoughts?"
"...Indecent ones," Jean said after a stretched silence.
Jeremy's tension visibly dissipated, and a soft smile found its place on his lips. "Is that so?" he raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head just a bit to the left, oh, so invitingly. "Tell me more."
Jean got the sudden urge to feel his smile with his lips.
It wasn't that hard to voice his desires anymore, and it was even easier to give in to them with Jeremy's small nods of approval, and little comments indulging him. How could he really not give in, it'd taken him quite a long time but once Jeremy managed to chip at the walls he built around himself, having them crumble was inevitable. On bad days he still had trouble communicating his desires, but on good days that was no problem at all. Today was a good day, and it seemed to keep getting better.
Jeremy closed the distance between them, and Jean put his hands on the towel over the sides of Jeremy's hips.
"Can I kiss you?" Jean whispered.
"Yes." Jeremy leaned in and let Jean feel the truth in it with his lips.
It was easy, almost natural, the way they wound around each other. All soft touches and quiet exhales, they had it down to an art form. Their kiss was tentative, starting off slow and getting more intense, passion dripping through from one to the other back and forth. They were soft, and gentle, but that did not mean they were always sweet. They could, but Jean was wrung together too tight today, he wanted Jeremy to ground him like he had done many times before. And he seemed to sense the difference in his demeanour, hands squeezing at his hips, tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip, and noises just a tad more desperate than usual.
That was not rare. Jean's desire was a curious thing the two of them were figuring out together, but there were days when he needed it, craved it, and today seemed to be like that. The kiss grew heated fast.
"Where do you want me?" Jeremy parted from Jean to ask.
"Everywhere," Jean all but pleaded, and took the hands Jeremy was keeping by his side to put on his shoulders.
Their height difference was also a peculiar thing. Jean, having a few feet on Jeremy tended to fold on himself, and try to appear smaller to hide, yet Jeremy, the sunshine captain, took up space unapologetically. He relished in the span of Jean's body, all long limbs, and lean muscles, loving the feeling of being surrounded by him, encompassed in all that is Jean Moreau. Jean didn't like feeling trapped, he trusted Jeremy, yes, but he needed more room to breathe, not to let his dark memories overshadow the bright light Jeremy brought with him. That combination proved to work well for both of them, which was why Jeremy pulled him onto the wall with his back pressed against it, pleasantly surrounded by the tall plane of Jean's body.
"Where do you want me first?" Jeremy asked again.
It wasn't that hard, but saying exactly what he wanted was still embarrassing for Jean. He knew he need only ask his lover, but it was easier said than done. He opted for taking Jeremy's hand in his and following a path from his shoulder to his biceps, forearm, and then left it at his lower stomach with a look sent Jeremy's way. He tried to convey 'Don't make me say it' and he seemed to be willing to let it slide. At least for now.
Jeremy considered him for a bit. "Baby, I want to make you feel good so I'll need you to tell me where is off limits at least."
Jeremy needed to make sure he knew what his boundaries looked like every time. This was their agreement, and it was what made Jeremy confident in taking charge - the shadow of doubt was unacceptable.
Jean took a moment to make sure his voice didn't fail him, "No neck."
"Thank you." Jeremy gave him another of his soft smiles before he brushed his hair back, and gave him a meaningful look, "Will you hold my hair for me?"
As he sank to his knees he braced for the wall with his hand, and pulled Jean closer with the other. He looked up at him expectantly.
Oh, Jean was done for. He put his hands on his hair and gave a tentative tug, which sent a visible shudder through Jeremy's body. "No fair, you're playing dirty," he said, and averted his eyes for a moment before setting his hands on Jean's hips to wait for an 'okay'.
After getting a nod from Jean, he pulled his trousers down, and nuzzled his head in his crotch. Jeremy loved sucking him off for reasons Jean was unable to understand, but he was yet to complain. He mouthed at the bulge in his boxers, seeming content to tease him through the fabric. He slowly licked upward his clothed length, and sat back on his heels to look at Jean.
Oh, Jean really was done for.
"You still with me?" Jeremy asked, lust evident in his voice, if not in the way his eyes looked black with the way his pupils dilated.
Jean hummed quietly, unable to take his eyes off of Jeremy even with the intensity of his stare.
"Good," was all Jeremy said before letting Jean's cock free of his briefs to stroke it to full hardness.
Jean hadn't even realised when he got so hard. He might as well have been the entire time since he was in the shower. But now the need for release was almost unbearable, he was going to burst if Jeremy didn't actually get him off soon.
And fuck if he wasn't good at it, almost too good. When he started swallowing around his length it was over for Jean, he was so gone.
If he was going to die like this then so be it. There would be no better way.
But no, he wasn't dying. It felt like he was just coming to life. All his nerve endings were on fire, screaming at him 'Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy', and so he did, quietly pleading with his lover to keep going, and keep making him feel alight.
Jeremy moaned around his cock, which sent jolts of pleasure through Jean's entire body. Only then did he realise he was pulling on his lover's hair which surprised him enough to immediately drop his hands to his sides. Before he could apologise, however, Jeremy adamantly looked at him, took his hands from his sides, put them in his hair again, and tugged.
Oh, Jean really was done for.
Once Jeremy let go of his hands, Jean tugged again, which elicited another moan from Jeremy. How he was going to survive this, he wasn't sure.
Jeremy let his cock slide out and cleared his throat, "Do you want to fuck my mouth, Jean?" he said breathless, his voice rough.
The words made his knees weak, and he closed his eyes as he removed one hand from Jeremy's hair to seek purchase on the wall in front of him. The bang of his palm to the wall was louder than he anticipated and he was back on earth immediately, looking down at Jeremy's sparkling eyes.
He looked so dreamy under him, his gentle caress present ever so slightly on Jean's thighs, yet his gaze was unwavering.
He breathed, "I want you to, so if you do too - do it." He squeezed his thigh and traced his body upwards in a gentle slide up his chest and down to his thigh again, soothingly. He nuzzled his head in his right thigh and mouthed at the length of Jean from the side, "I got you, baby," his hand went to wrap around Jean again and he pressed a kiss to the tip. He licked him and suckled on the head making Jean's transfixed gaze waver for a second, he closed his eyes and the last thing he heard before the all encompassing feel of Jeremy was 'Let go.'
The feeling of his mouth was obscene, and he was going up and down, slowly taking all of him in a smooth motion. Again, and again; up, and down he slid and moaned so prettily. Just for him, just for Jean.
Jean closed a fist on the wall and forced his eyes open to tug at his lover's hair again. The whimper on Jeremy's lips was even more desperate, and it seemed to spur him on even more. He considered his question from earlier and as Jeremy gazed at him he decided to give one tentative thrust, and that was all it took. Jeremy's eyes rolled back, and he moaned hard against the cock in his mouth, which prompted Jean to do it again. And again.
Jeremy looked debauched under him, dead set on pleasing him, and enjoying it, relishing in it. Every time Jean gasped, Jeremy whimpered against him, every harsher breath he took resulted in another moan from Jeremy, and once he'd found a steady rhythm of fucking into him, they were both louder than they'd ever like to admit (or Jean for that matter).
He held onto Jeremy's hair to guide him in and out, tugging slightly, and his other hand was pressing into the wall with a fist he would hit the wall with, in attempt to silence himself to no avail. Sure, this wasn't the first time Jeremy went down on him, but the feeling of thrusting into his mouth, the warm heat and gentle slide was breathtaking. And the control given to him so willingly, oh, the control was exhilarating - Jeremy was not only offering himself up to him, but was getting off on it too. He was rock hard, with one hand on the small of Jean's back, and the other on his hip, holding on for dear life. Their dynamic truly worked like a charm. Jean was slowly getting used to having autonomy, and experiencing the pleasure of sex with his partner, and the concept of control, thrust to him, was addicting.
After long talks, and discussions on boundaries, and preferences they'd established that Jeremy gets off on getting his lover off. That seemed like a bizarre concept to Jean, and it took him some time to truly comprehend, but he slowly figured out that he himself liked the sense of control when they would get intimate. It wasn't always, and sometimes he wanted Jeremy to make decisions for him because of the overwhelming difference between his lack of bodily autonomy last year and his life now. However, moments like these felt so good they were healing a part of his soul. Jeremy trusted him to offer pleasure like that and made him get what he wanted, and he trusted Jeremy to have him when he let go. And so he did.
There was spit running down Jeremy's chin, and tear streaks covered his cheeks. Seeing his boyfriend like this did things to Jean he wasn't ready to admit yet. He loved when they were gentle, he thrived in it really, the softness of the sunshine captain, reaching through his body and seeping deep into his soul. But he would be lying if he said he didn't also like it when it was rougher, faster, harder. He liked the passion he ignited in Jeremy, he lived for it, he basked in it, and he knew Jeremy always liked it more intense. It was almost counterintuitive - after living with inhuman violence for years, enduring, enduring, enduring. But it wasn't about enduring anymore. He took power in it, doing something the Nest took from him, that had made him all rough edges and messed-up insides, and turning it into something pleasurable, turning it into passion.
Oh, he was passionate alright. Jeremy had that effect on him with his loving words, quiet pleas, and reverent touch. It was so easy to lose himself, and he knew Jeremy would catch him and return him right here - again, and again.
Again, and again he slid in, and out of his boyfriend's pliant mouth. By now his hand on his back had lowered a lot, with the other pushing to squeeze on his own crotch through the towel. The sight makes something wicked pass through his mind. On an 'out' he braced to take Jeremy's hand and put it directly on his ass, and squeezed as he pushed 'in'. He wanted to make Jeremy come apart, he wanted to drive him out of his skin, and get him to lose himself in the moment the way Jean was close to. This had Jeremy moaning loud around Jean, squeezing his own cock harder. Jean continued to slide in, and out, with his hand still on Jeremy's, and his other tugging at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Thinking straight was certainly not possible anymore as Jean started feeling the coil in his stomach start to tighten.
Oh, he was so close. "Jeremy," he whimpered, "stop."
Jeremy, although still hazy with lust, immediately pulled away from him, and dropped his hands to his sides. Oh how much he loves his man.
He was still catching his breath, evidently also close. "Did something happen, Jean?" he tried to get out with a rough voice.
Jean's insides tingled at the sound, but he did his best to keep it all at bay, "Let's go to the bed. Is that okay?" he asked in one breath to focus all his energy on not coming right then and there.
"Okay, baby, just let me get dressed," he said hastily and tried to stand up without touching Jean, "Do you want anything?" He braced himself on the wall behind him, knees weak, and head spinning.
Jean was still in the same place, breathing, and when Jeremy tried to go around him to get to the dresser. "I want to continue on the bed," he said with as much determination as he could muster to voice his desires. "Jeremy," he all but pleaded.
His lover just stared at him, and widened his eyes ever so slightly realising what Jean wanted. He still wasn't used to hearing his name with that pretty accent, "Say that again," he whispered.
Jean knew the effect of calling him by his name, which is why he said it to rile him up in the first place. "Jeremy," he whispered back, and got closer to his face, "go and sit on my bed."
Jeremy wasn't concerned anymore, and he swiftly moved to sit on Jean's bed, still trying to comprehend the situation he was in. Jean didn't usually voice his desires like that, this was new, it was interesting.
As he made his way towards the bed his gaze was different, Jeremy couldn't quite place it. It wasn't angry, no, but it wasn't just lust either - it was reverence, it was adoration too, but there was something else. When he straddled his leg, and reached to remove the towel. Jeremy was still painfully hard, and he was growing restless. He wiped at his cheek to clean some of the mess, but Jean fixed him with a stare, and he didn't dare move nor look away. Passion was clouding his vision, so evident in his blown pupils.
"I want to ride your thigh," he said, quiet, but determined, "is that okay?"
"More than," Jeremy responded quickly, maybe too quickly. "How do you want me?" a breath. "Where can I touch?"
Jean's piercing gaze didn't waver. "Anywhere," he said, and leaned in to press slow kisses at his earlobe and whispered, "I want you just like this."
This sent a shudder down his lover's body, and he grabbed Jean by the nape to crash their mouths together. Jean slowly rocked against him, and grunted in the kiss. He found stability in Jeremy's right thigh, and buried his other hand in the blonde's hair to tug, tug, tug.
He was not playing fair, and he knew it. "You drive me crazy," Jeremy confessed rather than stated, and grabbed Jean's ass to help him move.
The feel of his toned legs against his bare bottom was even better than he'd imagined it. He rested his head on Jeremy's shoulder to look down at the smooth slide, his cock still wet with spit. At the end of every rocking motion the head of his shaft hit his partner's stomach, and this with Jeremy's soft pants next to his ear was maddening.
The slow slide built up desperation within Jean fast, and the soft sounds weren't enough, he wanted to hear, and feel more of Jeremy right now. His hand on Jeremy's right thigh made its way upward massaging his soft skin, and when he'd caught on to the halt of motion next to his groin, Jeremy spoke, "You can touch me baby."
Before he finished his sentence, Jean had already wrapped his hand, and started jerking the man under him. The sounds next to his ear were far better now, more desperate, mirroring the feelings of his own. As he tugged his hair on an upstroke, Jeremy's voice broke on a moan, "So- good for me."
Oh, Jean was gone. The moan he gave in return was louder than he'd ever been. He would be embarrassed if it didn't make Jeremy start pulling, and pushing his hips faster, desperation evident in the movements of both of them. Marks were forming on his ass by this point, as Jeremy used it as leverage to fondle him, and make him keep up the pace.
The world was tilting in front of him with the sheer pleasure washing over him, his ears were ringing, and the only thing he could hear was the reverent voice in his ear saying 'Let go.' 'I got you' 'I got you, baby.'
And let go he did, coming with a pitiful whimper. Trying to silence himself never worked around his partner, but God did he try. He slumped forward and watched as Jeremy came all over his stomach, and slowly rocked back and forth with him until they were both spent, and panting.
When Jean let go of his hair, and let his hand dangle at his lover's back, Jeremy kissed his head. "You're so sweet," Jeremy whispered against him, "so good for me," he kept peppering kisses, "such a good boy for me." He was floating somewhere high up, and all of his senses were overcome with the plea for Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy.
After a long while, when their heartbeats had calmed, Jean finally registered the slow strokes up and down his back. The soothing motion almost lulled him to sleep, but Jeremy interrupted his fast drift to sleep, "This was amazing, Jean." When his breath hitched at the compliment, he continued, "No, really. You did so well! I love it when you tell me what you want." The truth in his words was freely spilling out.
Jean loved the gentleness, and vulnerability Jeremy so easily provided him, but he couldn't handle any more compliments in this state. "I might get hard again," is what he settled on.
That made his partner chuckle sweetly, and shake his head against him, "You're insatiable Jean Moreau." He nudged his shoulder, "Let's shower, we are filthy."
"You literally just got out!" Jean complained.
"What to do when my boyfriend can't get enough of me?" Jeremy teased and kissed up and down his shoulder.
The word 'boyfriend' directed at him made Jean's cheeks heat up a bit, and he grumbled and flopped to the side of Jeremy on the bed. Before he could think better of it, he decided the best solution was to shut up his sappy partner, and reached for the discarded towel to clean them up. Jeremy, of course, didn't let him do it for more than a few seconds, and cleaned them up himself.
A few minutes later, Jean was content with today's outcome when he was drifting off on Jeremy's chest. "We can shower later." was his drowsy offer before he fell asleep to the low vibration of Jeremy's laugh.