what if I told you Jeremy doesn’t actually like sex? or, at least, not in the way people tend to imagine him based on what we see in the books. there are so many thoughts about Jeremy being a size king with an endless string of hookups (both of these are objectively true, but the problem is that this is the only thing the public notices), but it’s easy to forget that, for most of his life, sex wasn’t something he sought out because it brought him genuine happiness. more often than not, it was simply a coping mechanism, a way to silence his thoughts for a little while and distance himself from everything weighing on him. It was a means of escape, one that almost always left him with physical pain and emotional exhaustion once it was over. so what if I told you that when Jeremy finally ends up with Jean, sex naturally becomes part of their relationship, but it isn’t what he truly craves? what Jeremy longs for most isn’t sexual intimacy—it’s romantic intimacy. It’s Jean pressing a gentle kiss to his temple while they’re curled up together watching a movie. It’s the absentminded way their fingers drift together until Jean quietly laces them together, lifting Jeremy’s hand just enough to brush a kiss across his knuckles. It’s Jeremy running his fingers through Jean’s tousled hair while Jean lies with his head in Jeremy’s lap. If those moments eventually lead to sex, that’s simply an added bonus. but I can so easily picture the day Jeremy quietly asks Jean to stop before things become sexual, choosing instead to pull him close against his side, tangle their legs together beneath a blanket, and turn on some mindless reality show while he rests against the crown of Jean’s head, breathing in the scent that has slowly become his favorite place in the world. that’s the Jeremy I think Jean will come to know. not someone who’s 90% sex appeal and 10% flirtation, but someone for whom those things make up only a small fraction of who he truly is.
