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“Do you like girls too or just guys?” Cody asks as they slide into Jean’s space in the couch he’s been watching the party the Trojans are throwing to celebrate a win. Jean can’t remember what sport it’s for. Maybe American football. It’s not exy, so he doesn’t care.
However, he almost chokes on the jicama he’s been gnawing at Cody’s bold question. He stares at them like they are insane for even asking. Someone could hear. There are a lot of athletes here and he doesn’t think all of them are cool with queers.
Cody remains looking at them. Jean figures they’re not going away. And Jean actually likes their company and knows they’re a floozy. He can test opening up. Betsy has recommended it.
He sighs, “I like women too,” he offers Cody the cup of veggie sticks he’s been entertaining. They grab a carrot stick, biting it like a rabbit with their front teeth.
“Same,” Cody says, relaxing on the couch, “Was just curious. Ever had a girlfriend?”
Jean thinks of Renee. Did that count? Probably not.
“No,” Jean looks at his veggie sticks. Pointedly ignores Jeremy and his dancing on top of a table while singing something utterly American; which is to say, tacky and headache inducing.
Cody nods, “I dated a couple girls when I was in high school, they preferred to keep it lowkey though,” they shrug. Then they look at Jeremy, “I don’t think you keep things lowkey,” they nudge him with an elbow.
Jean looks at them. Raises an eyebrow as he finds Patrick and Ananya among the crowd. Dancing closely.
Cody catches what he’s looking at, “Fair enough,” they steal a cucumber stick, “Last girl I was with was Cat, has she told you that?”
Cody now has his full attention; as hard as he had tried, Jean couldn’t escape getting invested in the relationships the Trojans had with each other.
“What? No,” he says, taking a bite off a carrot stick.
“Yeah, we hooked up a couple of times, it was nice,” Cody says of it so casually it makes something in Jean’s skin tingle. Could it be that simple? Was it allowed? Did it matter if it wasn’t? He would ask Cat some stuff later, when Laila and Jeremy weren’t around. They were currently grinding on each other. Jean didn’t get it.
At his silence, Cody nudges him gently, a soft smile on their face, “I’m glad you came, I didn’t think parties were your thing,”
“They’re not,” Jean says, then adds, “You don’t drink,”
Cody waves a hand in the air, “Dad was a drunk, I prefer not to touch that stuff,” they shrug, “But it’s nice to be among friends, don’t you think?”
“Lots of noise,” Jean complains.
“Ah, yeah,” Cody nods. Then their face lights up, “We can go to my dorm— I haven't used it since I moved in with Patrick and Ananya but I technically could, you know?”
Jean had promised Cat he’d try to have fun. He assumes this counts. He likes Cody and he likes not feeling the bass of a song in his bones. He holds on to his cup of veggies and nods, offering a jicama to Cody, who gladly accepts and grabs Jean’s hand to guide him away from the party. It’s in someone’s house. A fraternity maybe. Jean just knows he can’t get out soon enough.
“Why did you move with Patrick and Ananya?” Jean asks Cody as he puts his hands on his pockets. He didn’t think California ever got cold, but tonight was one of those nights where he was reminded of Marseilles. He didn’t like it.
“It seemed like a good idea,” they reply. They’re wearing an actual puffer jacket. Jean feels less ridiculous about his own reaction to the weather, “I mean— it wasn’t a bad idea, it’s just…” they look to the distance, “It’s complicated,”
Jean could understand. He looks at Cody opening the door to their dorm.
“I got a single on account of… well,” they don’t elaborate, they don’t need to, Cat had explained Cody's identity to Jean, he didn't care, Cody was a good player, “Make yourself comfortable,”
There’s not much on the room, just a bed and a poster of a pin up girl. Jean sits down and looks at the poster.
Cody opens a small fridge and hands a water bottle to Jean. Jean fidgets with it, putting his cup of veggies to the side, only a small stick of cucumber remains, so he fishes it out with a large hand, clumsy fingers shaking. He’s not nervous, exactly, but the place is… intimate. He feels he should feel anxious, but Cody exudes calm.
They sit next to Jean, their knees touching. Usually, Jean would deny such a touch, but he doesn’t feel like it now. It’s not a threatening touch.
“It’s quiet here,” Jean says, feeling dumb. He had asked for that.
“I can put on some music if you want,” Cody says, Jean shakes his head.
“Non, I like quiet,” he looks at the poster again, “Who’s that?”
“Ah, Rita Haysworth,” Cody says, “You know Stephen King?” Jean shakes his head no, not wanting to explain how difficult he found texts in English even now, “Really? Damn, well it’s a reference to one of his stories. An inmate has a poster of this actress up and behind it he makes a tunnel to freedom,”
“Freedom,” Jean repeats, “Is that what you want?”
Cody seems surprised by the question, “I— no. I guess-- it was just a funny reference to me,”
“Could’ve been useful at the Nest,” Jean continues staring at the poster, thinking of telling Cody he’d read anything they wanted him to if they could find a copy in French, “A tunnel to freedom,”
Cody nods, then they’re looking at Jean, and Jean catches them and their eyes meet. And they just look at each other in silence for a bit.
There’s a heaviness in the air that Jean can’t describe. Cody offers their open palm. Jean looks at it. Places his fingers there. He can hear his own breathing along Cody’s.
The silence isn’t uncomfortable. Jean relishes it, closes his eyes.
“Jean?” Cody asks, almost a whisper. Jean opens his eyes, “What’s on your mind?”
“Peace,” Jean responds, and Cody smiles. Jean wonders how their piercings must feel between his teeth. Shakes the thought off. Utterly inappropriate, “If you find that story,” he says, pointing with a tilt of his head to the poster, “In French, I’ll read it,”
Cody just looks at him for a moment, their mouth a little open, Jean wants to run fingers through their chin and explore those lips.
“I— Yeah, Patrick has told me about this bookstore he wants to visit, I can look for books in French for you,”
Jean feels odd. His language offered to him with such little prejudice is something he’s still getting used to. He feels he’ll never get used to it.
“Merci,” Jean says, the corner of his lip curling a little.
He opens the water bottle and takes small sips of it, offering it to Cody, who drinks from it as well. Jean can’t help but focus on how a drop of water remains on their lips, and how their tongue sweeps it towards their lip rings.
Cody catches him looking, and he looks up to the ceiling. Cody smiles.
“Hm,” they get closer, “Is it weird I want to kiss you?”
Jean’s breath catches, “Why?” he responds. Puts the water bottle away.
Cody shrugs, “Could be fun, I like you, you’re my friend. We don’t have to, but you know, we could,”
Jean thinks of the rules and how they’ve changed. He thinks of Renee. Thinks of Neil. Thinks of Cat. Thinks of Cat and Laila. Thinks of Jeremy. Doesn’t think of Jeremy. Nods.
“We can try,” he says, and Cody smiles again, closing the distance between them for a chaste kiss. The metal from the piercings is cold against Jean’s lips. He shivers.
The kiss ends, Cody looks at him, as if searching for something, “Okay?” Jean nods.
“Can we continue?” he asks. Cody nods.
“You can… lay down, if you’d like,” they offer. Jean takes it. The bed is too small. His legs thank him for the rest.
Cody straddles him, and for a moment he panics, until they run careful hands though his sides, “It’s me, you okay?” Jean focuses on their weight, on their fire truck red buzzcut. On the way their piercings shine in the dark, only the moonlight for any light.
“I’m fine,” he replies, and he feels it. Cody closes the distance again, and Jean allows himself to get lost in the kissing. Soon he’s licking at Cody’s piercings because he can’t help it. Cody gasps but allows him. Jean pulls the rings on their bottom lip with his own lips, and Cody sighs content.
It isn’t until his tongue is in Cody’s mouth that he learns they have a little piercing ball there. It feels nice against his tongue. He can feel himself growing harder and tries to think of anything else, before Cody can feel it against themselves.
He fails utterly, and he knows Cody can tell by how they move against him.
“Jean,” they moan out, and Jean blushes, “You’re hard,”
“I am,” he says, “Sorry,”
“No, no, don’t apologize,” Cody replies, “Can I?” they move their hips experimentally, Jean gasps, “Okay?"
“Oui,” Jean closes his eyes. It’s unlike anything he’s been put through. Perhaps precisely because he wasn’t put through this. He put himself in this situation and now he was reaping what he sowed. And it was pretty fucking good.
Cody continues exploring his mouth while they rub themselves on Jean’s erection.
Jean has his hands by his sides, scared to touch, unsure what would happen, Cody is moaning into his mouth, he wants to touch. But doesn’t know how to ask for what he desires.
“Jean, talk to me,” Cody says.
“About what?” Jean asks, he doesn’t think he can conjure up long sentences in English. Most of the blood usually on his head is focused elsewhere.
“Tell me how you feel, what’s on your mind,” Cody hides their face on the conjuncture where Jean’s neck meets his shoulder, “Fuck, you’re big, I can tell. You gotta let me suck you,” they place a kiss on Jean’s neck.
Jean feels like cold water has been poured over him— and he’d know all about it. He places his hands on Cody's waist. Cody nods, their mouth sucking on Jean’s pulse point.
“You taste so good,” Cody says into his neck, raising goosebumps on Jean’s skin.
Jean dictates the rhythm of Cody’s waist with his hands. He figures they could go all the way, but he doesn’t know how he’d react to something like that. And he likes how this is going, he doesn’t want to ruin it. He guides Cody into going faster, almost bouncing on him, both of them fully clothed. He wonders if Cody also feels like their clothes are strangling them. Probably not. They’re too baggy.
“Jean, Jean, I’m gonna—,” Cody bites their lip, Jean brings them closer with one arm wrapped around their middle. Thrusts into their thighs. That’s enough. Cody cries as they orgasm. Jean is still rubbing himself on them, coming in his pants soon after Cody.
There’s always a first time.
Cody remains on top of Jean for a few minutes, as they catch their breaths.
“I— wow,” is all they say before rolling, Jean mourning the loss.
Jean can feel his come on his pants, and he knows it’s gross. But he doesn’t feel gross for having had sex. And that’s a new thing for him. Something he doesn’t know what to do with. A new feeling of comfort and bliss after such an act. That hadn’t happened in the past before.
He considers the rules, and how they’ve changed, and how he fits in this strange new world, invading the lives of the Trojans with his issues and his unasked for feedback and how they had embraced him.
“Will Jeremy be looking for you?” Cody asks, and Jean can tell they’re close to falling asleep. He can’t leave them here alone. It’s not right. They’re his friend.
“I’ll text him,” Jean says, and soon he’s curled up on Cody, their bodies fitting together in a less than ideal, but still comfortable, way.