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Sometimes I think about the possibility of Jean completely panicking in tbc if Jeremy gets hurt. The wide eyes, the shaking hands gripping Jeremy, the uneven breathing, the desperate "not you, please not you, only me, only me" because when it comes to pain and death, Jean thinks it should always be him.

[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over

"this situation cannot possibly be improved by me opening my stupid mouth" is perhaps the most important thought that it's possible to have

A thought that Neil josten severely lacks

Jean is still asleep, curled in on himself with his arms drawn protectively over his body, like he’s waiting for a sudden hit the way he used to in the Nest. one night, after they’ve started sharing a room, Jeremy notices the way Jean sleeps. he watches him for a while, staring at the tense, guarded posture, until one simple thought slips into his head: Jean must be cold. so Jeremy quietly climbs out of his own bed and pads over, catching the edge of the blanket before it can slide to the floor, already ready to drape it over Jean. but then Jean suddenly shifts in his sleep, curling tighter instead of relaxing—arms bent closer to his face like he’s bracing for a blow. Jeremy freezes. his eyes widen slightly in confusion before he carefully reaches for one of Jean’s wrists, trying to ease his arm down gently. Jean’s sleepy, equally confused gaze finally blinks open to meet his, clearly waiting for an explanation. Jeremy just looks at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out whether Jean understands what’s happening. then, quietly: “Can I come in?” the moment stretches for another few seconds before Jean’s expression slowly settles back into its usual distant melancholy. finally, he shifts aside just enough to make room for Jeremy beside him. Jean is already turning away again when Jeremy moves first, settling himself slightly higher and pulling Jean against his chest instead, tucking the top of his dark head beneath his chin. his fingers slip into Jean’s messy curls while he presses a warm, familiar kiss to the crown of his head. “Is this okay?” he whispers. at Jean’s quiet approval, Jeremy relaxes fully, continuing to comb his fingers gently through his curls, never quite moving his lips away from Jean’s hair until he eventually falls asleep himself. Jean stays awake a little longer. long enough to realize the position they’ve ended up in. the steady warmth of Jeremy’s chest beneath his cheek. the weight of an arm draped protectively over him. the slow rise and fall of breathing against his body. It eases something tight inside him. slowly, Jean gives in and rests his own hand against Jeremy’s waist, burying himself closer against the soft sweetness of his scent.