bebel

Jeremy Knox turns 11 and there's no time for a party. It's an election year. His mom's new-husband's father is a senator dreaming of a presidential nomination and every minute counts. Even though its only March. Isn't Jeremy too old for parties anyway? His oldest brother gives him 12 punches; one for each year and one for luck but the last one hurts. He watches his favorite movie with his sister and his younger brothers make him construction paper cards. His dad doesn't show.

Jeremy Knox turns 18 and he's high. Bryson gave him the pills last night with a "Happy Birthday" and a twisted smile that didn't feel genuine. His mother and sister might've wished him a "Happy Birthday" when he left for school but he doesn't remember. His youngest brother refused to get out of bed this morning, no matter how much his step father screamed through the door. Jeremy's sure that took priority. His dad doesn't show.

Jeremy Knox turns 19 and his youngest brother never will. Mathilda doesn't say anything. Annalise doesn't say anything. Joshua doesn't say anything. Trent Knox doesn't show.

Jeremy Knox turns 20

Jeremy Knox turns 21

Jeremy Knox turns 22

Jeremy Knox turns 23 and there's too much birthday cake. Cat insisted they make a 3-layer cake from scratch and Laila could only find 9-inch pans at the store. The frosting is blue. The stack of three presents on the dining room table are all wrapped in blue wrapping paper. Jean's shirt is blue. "Your favorite color," Jean says. Cat cuts Jeremy a slice that would have even the Trojan's flexible nutritionist wince. The girls sing and Jeremy swears he hears Jean humming along. Later, the floozies join them. There's more cake and a movie and silly-joke birthday cards full of puns that make Jeremy laugh.

Jeremy turns 23 and Jean asks him "Good Birthday?"

Woof, Woof!

It shouldn’t be so jarring. He has woken up alone before, whether because he slept late, or because Jean had to pee—or had to take Jabberwocky to pee—but it’s different, this time. And it is jarring.

He’s suddenly aware of every inch of his skin where it touches the sheets, suddenly aware of his lack of clothing. Suddenly aware of his heartbeat, in his throat; of his stomach where it’s sinking through the floor.

He should wait, he thinks. And try not to jump to conclusions.

A minute passes, two. But still, no Jean. No Jabberwocky, either. Jeremy bites his lip, and remembers the way Jean’s teeth had gently nipped the same spot just hours before.

A flush heats his face. He remembers all of it—the press of Jean’s fingers, the caress of his kisses. The heat of him, the weight of him. The nervous laughter, and the shaky breaths they took when they pressed their foreheads together.

For their first time, Jeremy had thought it went well. He’d thought—well, he hadn’t thought much at the time, really, unable to think past a chant of Jean Jean Jean and the realization that for all the sex he had, that it had never quite felt like this.

But maybe he’d read it wrong. Maybe Jean hadn’t felt the same way. Maybe Jeremy had crossed a line, crossed a boundary. Maybe it hadn’t been as good for Jean as it had been for him. Maybe he should’ve focused more on Jean, instead of letting Jean focus on him.

He knew how men liked him, in sex. But he also knows Jean, and Jean isn’t like other men.

…Right?

Jeremy glances over to Jean’s empty side again, and suddenly feels sick with himself for even comparing the two. Jean isn’t the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, but he did love Jeremy, and he did leave, for whatever that reason may be.

Jeremy’s heart kicks up in his chest. What if he’d ruined it? What if, like all the other men in Jeremy’s life, Jean had him, and decided Jeremy wasn’t the one? What if—

The door swings open.

Jeremy goes still as stone. Jean steps in, hands wrapped around the edge of a breakfast tray.

Jeremy blinks at him. And then down at its contents. There are eggs and coffee and … bacon? He glances back up to Jean, and this time, when he does, Jean is staring back at him.

“Oh,” Jean says, as a beautiful blush spreads across his face. “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” Jeremy repeats. He hesitates, pushes himself up to a sitting position, and then, because he has never quite learned to control his mouth completely, adds, “You were gone.”

He tries to play it off as a joke, as a lighthearted observation , but his voice cracks, and his expression must give him away, because Jean shoots him an odd look.

“I was coming back,” he tells Jeremy, and Jeremy does his best not to squirm under the weight of his unblinking stare. “I was just making us breakfast.”

“No, yeah,” Jeremy says. “I see that now. But I just—I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It is not,” Jean counters. “I should have left a note.”

Jeremy’s flush deepens. “You shouldn’t have to leave a note because you went to the kitchen, Jean.”

“I was supposed to be back before you were up,” Jean tells him. He places the tray on the end of the bed, and then comes to sit at Jeremy’s hip. “To wake you with me, and breakfast. Not to have you wake up alone.”

He pauses,and when Jeremy looks away, refusing to meet his eye, asks, “Did you think I left?”

Jeremy opens his mouth. Closes it. Jean says, “Jeremy.”

“I told you,” Jeremy says, “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Jean puts a hand on either side of his face, and holds him there. “I will tell you as many times as you need. I am not going anywhere. You will not lose me. I will always, always come back to you. Each and every time.”

Jeremy stares at him. “You can’t know that.”

“I can, and I do,” Jean says. “I promise you this. And I do not ever break my promises.”

He reaches for Jeremy’s hand, and brings it up to his mouth; kisses his knuckles. Jeremy closes Jean’s hand in both of his, and holds it to his chest, over his heart. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Jean Moreau?”

Jean having wet dreams about Jeremy. Jean struggling to tear his eyes away from Jeremy in the locker room and then having to go to class and he can't concentrate because thoughts of Jeremy naked and sweaty in a different context keep invading his mind. Jean getting flustered especially when Jeremy smiles at him in the locker rooms, feeling like he needs to leave NOW or things will get very embarrassing

Jean lying in bed at night when Jeremy isn't at the lofts and he can't stop thinking about him, wondering what he's doing, hoping he hasn't gone to another man's bed, wishing he was there with Jean, thinking about all the things he'd like to do to Jeremy in this very bed

Jean seeing Jeremy from behind and feeling the urge to wrap his arms around him. Bc he wants to hold him and he wants to feel the heat of his body and he wants to breathe in his smell and he wants Jeremy to be his but he CAN'T because Jeremy isn't (yet). So instead he stands next to him. Closer than he needs to. But not close enough. Jean thinking to himself that Jeremy's body would fit so perfectly against his

Getting stuck on Jeremy calling his very real trauma "childish" and "self-centered" when it's anything but.

Getting stuck on the fact that when he has to leave the banquet with Jean, he calls his very legitimate reaction a "tantrum".

Getting stuck on the implication that Mathilda and Warren must have called him a variation of these insults (or it must have been implied in their tones and body language; written between the lines as they dismiss him as a person of value; as they dismiss and disregard him as a child, and then as a teenager, and then as an adult, of value) for so long that it's now something that's intrinsic to him, at the very core of how his brain works.

Neil, you know everything he is thinking, but never what is about to come out his mouth. Jeremy, it’s impossible to get a good read on his thoughts, but his responses are rehearsed.

Neil dyed his hair brown as a cover to craft a persona. Jeremy covered his brown hair to craft a persona.

Neil couldn’t care less what the world thinks of him. Jeremy cares what every soul on earth thinks of him.

Neil is on the ace spectrum and doesn’t think about sex until Andrew, who he then wants to jump his bones. Jeremy is hyper-sexual, but is holding back his desires when it comes to the object of his.

Neil needed to find a place safe enough to settle down and stop running. Jeremy is trapped and needs to find a safe place to escape and run to.

Both of their smiles are talked about often and at length throughout their books, and how they give away so much depending on which smile they are giving.

Neil wants the short blond. Jeremy wants to tall af brunet.

Renee is all up in their men’s lives.

Both have complexes about their last names.

To name a few.