This is the longest chapter i've written for this, wow. Sorry for the delay again! Time just flew. Enjoy!~
Sasha. Sasha Braus. How on earth do I explain this girl?
The waitress Jean said 'hi' to, suddenly shoved her face into mine, leaving us only a few centimeters apart and the invasion of personal space had me dropping my menu with a clatter onto the table. She then growled; teeth bared and brown eyebrows burrowed, and a chocolate coloured ponytail flicked in my face like an attack of feathers as she hollered "MR. SPRINGER!"
She spun back round to face me, hair whipping me in the face yet again, still glaring at me for some reason. Then, with one hand on her hip, she stuck a hand down the front pocket of her apron and pulled out a steaming hot potato.
Now, I'd understand if she pulled out a... loaf of bread or something, considering this place was a bread shop.
But a potato?
"This is Sasha Braus. She's a crazy childhood friend of mine that taught me how to hunt and survive out in the wild like Bear Grylls, but without the camera crew. I'm obviously better looking than him as a result." Jean slouched in the wooden chair, crossing his arms over his t-shirt. He smirked upon seeing my confused expression. She had a stash of potatoes in her apron?!
"I THINK YOU MEAN MR. SPRINGER-BRAUS, GOOD SIR." A short guy with a buzzcut, in a black apron and white polo shirt like Sasha, swaggered up to our table with a huge grin. He had a pink coloured plaster on his chin that he scratched after he kissed Sasha on the cheek.
Jean nodded at him. "Hey to you too, Connie."
"You're the first person Jean's brought with him here. Explain yourself!" Sasha slammed her hands on the table, making some of the other customers look at us.
I chuckled nervously, reaching to my neck to rub it like I usually did when I got nervous. "Um, I'm Marco. Nice to meet you!" That's right Marco, just say your name, and remember your manners and all will be well…
"NO! None of that small talk! We need answers!" Sasha leaned forward, and Connie put an arm on her shoulder, making me think he would pull her back, but instead he joined her in her interrogation.
"You already have Jean under your spell; please teach us your ways, master." Connie blue eyes widened excitedly as he bit his lip with two large front teeth.
Under my spell? The only spell of mine I could think of was my spell of amnesia…
I glanced at Jean warily, but he didn't seem to care in the least. "Connie is Sasha's boyfriend. Although, they act so much alike and are together so often that I have this theory that they were actually once literally joined at the hip." he said, finishing with a yawn. HE was yawning? I was the one that had woken up first!
But… what a decent awakening it had been. Like, I didn't really enjoy my lack of freedom, but still. Who doesn't want a hot guy with blonde hair with a leg draped over them, one that's good at seducing their roommate at six in the morning…?
I did. I think I'd just pretend to sleep next time and do it to him. See how he likes it.
Since Jean wasn't going to save me, I had to come up with some reason, some way of saving myself... How would I explain, "hey so I stumbled into the woods looking for him even though I didn't know I was looking for him in particular and ended up finding him by a one in a seven billion chances? Oh, and not forgetting that he dragged me to the hospital after I passed out."
What a beautiful first meeting. I wouldn't have it any other way. Although, one moment of consciousness when he had been carrying me might've been good…
I'd settle for the next best thing, as revenge for this morning (even though he was hardly responsible for my suppressed desires. Still, he had ACTED on them, so I was still the better man.)
"He brought me here because he said there were people here that he wanted to invite to the wedding." I smiled up at them cheekily. "I can't believe he never mentioned me before!"
Jean just looked at me with his eyebrows twitching in confusion. "...Eh?"
"Yeah, it's in four months. I wanted a winter wedding, ain't that right Jean-Bo?" I put my elbow in the table, leaning my face into my hand as I peered up at him from beneath my eyelashes.
Mothers have the most creative names for their children. Credit goes to Lynne Kirstein and her habit of being extra mumsy.
Oh but a winter wedding, with snowy grounds and ice sculptures, both of us laughing as we sneezed through our vows…
Jean, I really want a winter wedding, please please please!
Sasha perked up, pounding a fist over her heart in a salute. "I volunteer as tribute to be the best man!"
Connie straightened his back up, and then fell into a swift curtsy, using the apron as a skirt. "I'd be honored to be the flower girl."
I grinned lopsidedly, leaning back in my chair and laughing internally at their easy going nature as they played along with the joke. "Consider yourself hired."
Sasha rubbed her chest, mumbling about how she'd hit herself too hard and Connie scratched his plaster, telling her she was an idiot. Jean buried his head in his hands, groaning in dismay.
"I can't fucking bring you anywhere, can I?" he groaned at me.
"Nah, you don't really bring me anywhere, I just follow you around like a lovesick puppy."
"Ay, Sasha, go get us some drinks? The buy one get one free drinks? It's boiling out there." he moved one hand away from his face, covering his view of me.
I watched as Sasha trotted away, after giving the Marines' salute, and noticed a tattoo on her inner forearm of a golden compass. Huh, she didn't seem like the type to get a tattoo. I looked back at the table, where Jean and Connie were talking.
"Dude, did you get into a fight?" Jean tapped at his chin, in the same place as Connie's tattoo, with a sympathetic wince.
Connie's smile faltered as he cringed. "Uh... No, it's just hiding a really bad zit."
I think Connie was one of those people that others liked because he was honest. Embarrassingly so. Still, at least he had guts. Not a lot of guys can own up to having skin problems.
"How'd you know Jean, Connie?" I clasped my hands together, leaning my chin on my knuckles.
The buzz-cut boy shook his head nostalgically, leaning onto the table with stretched out arms. "Through Sasha. Boy, was the day we met a field trip." he glanced at Jean, smiling toothily.
"At first I thought, wow, that guy really has a stick up his ass. I may have accidentally said that out loud. Aaand, he may have said that although he wouldn't mind that, I wasn't really his type."
He was implying Jean was gay. That was the first I'd heard of this.
I liked this fact.
Plus, he went about it so brilliantly. He wanted a stick up his ass, ha, I volunteer as tribute! (I didn't just think that. Dear god. Blame Sasha)
With a showy jump, Connie held out his arms, as though he was presenting me to a crowd. "And then there's you, with your plans of marriage! I didn't know the two toned idiot dug freckles and muscles." he rolled his eyes and threw up his arms in an "I give up" gesture. "Because clearly, I am lacking in both areas."
I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my neck as I coughed lightly. "He likes early risers too."
I... may have been pushing my jokes a little too far, because Connie raised his eyes in surprise. "Wait, were you being serious about the marriage-"
"No, Marco's just being a weirdo." Jean scowled at me. Yeah, maybe I should just stop talking now.
Just then, something clicked. I cocked my head at Connie, who had his arms by his sides, and I thought for sure I'd seen something on his arms.
"Did you and Sasha get matching tattoos?"
Connie's eyes widened, meeting my own as he raced to hide it, but not before I noticed that the dial on his compass tattoo... moved? I think it... moved towards the direction behind him.
Sasha appeared with the drinks, and a stern shout called from the till at the front of the shop. "Connie! Stop talking to Jean! I'm paying you by the hour and the dishes still haven't been done."
Connie squeaked that he was coming, placed a peck on Sasha's cheek as he left us, and Sasha placed the drinks on the table with a small smile, tucking her tray under her arm. Jean dove in, grabbing his drink and sucking greedily on the straw of what seemed to be a tall glass of pink lemonade.
"You never told me you guys had the same tattoo." he said between slurps.
Sasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head in annoyance. "To think I've known you all these years, and you still can't find things out by yourself. Aren't friends supposed to learn things about each other without having to tell them anything?"
She held out her arm. "I mean, it's obviously there in plain view, it has been for years, and Marco picked up on it as soon as he saw it."
"Ah, I just happen to be observant!" I forced a smile at her, worried she might start a fight with Jean. "But still, why did you get a tattoo?"
With a coy grin she leaned down at the table so that she was almost kneeling beside me at the table.
"Well, it's supposed to show how happy I am that I found him."
She was implying they were soul mates?! But, I thought, with me and Jean, the GPS system… There are other ways? That's so cool!
"Oh really?! Us too! I'm so happy for you guys!" I beamed at her, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged slightly. "Wait, you guys, you found each other with the-"
"Psychic connection. That's right. Although, this guy kept getting lost, so it took me for-fucking-ever to find him. And when I did, he was in the middle of the forest at two in the morning with a huge lump gouged out his head."
"Hey, it wasn't that bad, I mean, I wouldn't be here if I had half my head missing."
"Marco," he growled my name. ... I may have liked the way he said it, and it reminded me of the huskiness of his morning voice. "You forgot yourself for, like, a whole day, and you passed out in the middle of the street. I had to stop some woman from calling the police because she thought I hit you!"
"Oh my god this is amazing. My baby has found THE someone! Hey, …what do you mean forgot? Did Marco get amnesia? I know that can happen after you hit your head really hard, though isn't that only in movies?"
I nodded, raising my eyebrows as I blew out a long breath. "I still have it, as far as I'm aware, always have done. But somehow I hurt my head and that must've made it worse, temporarily. As for the movies-"
"BRAUS!" Sasha flinched and looked over her shoulder fearfully.
"Aah man. As much as I'd love to talk with ya and your hubby to be, I very much value my life. As endangered as it may be right now... See you around!" She skipped away to the till. "Oh, and don't forget to pay this time Jean! I'm not going to bail you out this time."
I sank into my chair from sheer exhaustion, surprised to see Jean doing the exact same, blowing raspberries like an impatient horse from tiredness. Yeah, I still feel bad for calling Lynne 'Jenny', seeing as it basically means horse. But, I guess they do kinda look like horses.
"Geez, and I thought I talked a lot." I sagged further into my chair.
"You do, and now you know my pain."
I kicked him under the table, trying to hide my smile beneath a glower. "Shush, you. Oh, and what was that about forgetting to pay your drink?"
"... That, that was that one time where I chanced it and just walked out the door since they were so busy at the till." he smiled smugly to himself.
I gasped in mock horror, covering my 'o' shaped mouth with a hand. "You're, you're a-"
"Go on. Just say it. You know what I am."
"A juvenile delinquent."
The time we spent at the cafe was worthwhile. It took him a lot of coaxing and a day or so to master, but I'd finally gotten Jean to talk.
He just didn't know what to say? Wow, and I thought being socially awkward was supposed to be well, awkward, not cute and make a person so adorably flustered.
Even though it might not have been about him, Jean had stories, particularly about Sasha and Connie getting into trouble all the time. He told me their parents and his mum was friends and had been ever since she moved to the town.
Were they the people Lynne had spoken about, the ones she said had explained to her about the soul-mate thing? I had to talk to them, they had to know more than I did about this, at least.
He did mention a couple of things about himself, like how he actually liked Connie's little sisters, even though he pretended not to. He couldn't help himself from adoring them when they latched onto his arm when he sat on the couch, and used his legs as a slide.
But he didn't want kids. "Jesus, no," he'd said. "I would be a terrible dad. I'd spoil them way too much."
"You'd be the fun parent. Everyone loves the fun parent."
He sighed inwardly, hissing through his teeth. "Not when they can't take responsibility." He may think he lacked responsibility, but this time he paid for his drink so it couldn't be too bad.
Right now though, Jean was sitting with me on his bed, trying to play travel scrabble.
"Marco, "rewards" isn't spelled with a 'z'."
I gave a haughty laugh. "It is when your phone is with the Vodafone network and you get Freebee Rewardz. So yes, it's spelled with a 'z'."
The sun was setting outside his window, so even Jean's exasperated face looked softer. Lynne was away at work, at a bar, apparently. Now normally I'd be a little overwhelmed about the possibilities of a burglary, or in this case the certain kinds of possible things that could happen with two, hormonal, teenage boys in a house, alone...
But I don't think the atmosphere worked when only one of us was thinking about it, and we were both... being domestic and playing scrabble. And rewards -rewardz- was totally spelled with a z.
He let out a long sigh, apparently giving up with the game as he tipped the contents of the game into the mini purple bag. I pouted at him.
"No need to be such a sore loser, Jean." my bottom lip trembled for dramatic effect.
He threw the bag and the game board onto the floor with a quiet thud. "Yeah, well, I got bored." Why thank you. I find your company during games fun too, Jean.
We sat on his bed, a little awkwardly, I might add, since both of us were tired...
But after that morning? Maybe sleeping together might not be such a good idea.
Hey, I might have been the cause of the whole fiasco but I wasn't the one violently gyrating against someone's leg!
Jean slipped under the covers fully clothed, kicking my ass from beneath as I still sat on the edge. I joined him under the covers and he got out his ipod, giving me one earphone.
"Tonight's entertainment: Marco's reactions to my music taste." he whispered in an Australian accent. I think he was trying to compete with my English accent from yesterday morning.
The music was certainly interesting...
"All I hear is noise, I don't get it."
Jean laughed in my face, accidentally pulling out an earphone that I felt little reluctant to put back into my lobe. "It sounds like everything, and yet... it's nothing."
"You mean it's crap?"
I hesitated too long. He laughed. "It's okay. It's called Seapunk music. I don't even like it. I just downloaded it for shits and giggles." he pressed the skip button. "Ah, now this is something I actually like, so you better not make fun of me." I put the earphone back in obediently.
Paramore came on, a band I'd heard of but had never really listened to. It seemed to be rock, but with a girl singing... it worked, I'm not sure how, but it worked. Jean had a couple of albums by them, so he said.
It wasn't really the sort of stuff you'd listen to at a party, more like the sort of thing you listen to by yourself because you want to feel music, rather than have something to dance to, although the guitars had a good rhythm to them. Maybe... a mosh pit would be a better place for it? Or is that too metal?
I like things like Michael Jackson; don't trust my judgment on this.
A slower song came on after a few minutes of the two of us lying in the bed. Jean shuffled, so that he was facing me. His face relaxed when the song started as though it had been just what he needed after a long, hard day, even though he was still pretty bummed about it all. He breathed a puff of air on me. It's surprising how different things feel when it comes to a different situation. Just.. Air. It didn't really make me shiver or get all hot when I felt it on my neck.
"You know," I blocked out the music to listen to him as he spoke. "Sasha and Connie... I think they might break up."
My body stiffened and I frowned at him. "Why?"
He paused, looking pained as he creased his eyebrows and looked behind me, trying to avoid my gaze. "Well, the thing is, is that they're both... Ace. D'you know what that means?"
I nodded, surprised at the news since.. well, they were both really affectionate with each other, kissing and all.
"But... it's in a different way from each other, since Connie's asexual and Sasha's aromantic. They both go to me, telling me that they're worried that they can't make each other happy. Sasha's worried that Connie thinks she just wants him for sex, and Connie doesn't want Sasha to be bored of him because he doesn't ever want to do it." Jean gulped loudly, making the adam's apple in his throat bob.
"I'm... a little sick of being their love councillor or whatever. I still want them to be happy, so I'll help them, but I'm just one step away from telling them that they're better off just splitting up. I did, once, but then Sasha went away on holiday when they'd agreed to go on a break, and Connie started having seizures -he hadn't had them since he met Sasha- and it wasn't until she came back, running to his hospital bed at one in the morning that they stopped."
He shook his head frustration beginning to seep into his confusion. "It's like they're platonicly dating, for the sake of Connie being safe."
His breathing hitched, ever so slightly, and I wouldn't have noticed if our faces hadn't been so close.
"Why are they pretending? They shouldn't tell each other they love each other if they don't. So yeah, that's why I reckon they'll break up." He finished almost casually, but the words stuck in his throat.
Maybe I know somewhere, deep in my soul that love never lasts.
Pretending? The thought hadn't even occurred to me. But then again... why were two ace people dating, especially when they were on opposite sides of the spectrum when it came to that sort of thing?
Sure, the soul mate thing might tie them together, but why would something made by destiny be hurting them so much?
Why were they letting it hurt them?
"I don't want to have them come crying to me again. I've seen enough tears because of shitty relationships, and they don't deserve that."
And we've got to find other ways to make it on our own, or keep a straight face.
"Jean..." I bit my lip, trying to think of the right words. "I'm not sure why they're dating. But I have a feeling they can learn from each other, seeing as they don't know what it's like to... want someone, in their own ways. And they can maybe explain, plus since they're so close, they might understand it a little better, even if they don't feel it. They seem really happy, too."
He shook his head, hiding his face under the covers, apparently ignoring me. "There's no point in relationships. They always end, and everyone always gets hurt. 'S'why I never bother with 'em. Too much drama. It's not like love is real, anyway. We're better off just making ourselves happy."
And I've always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance...
"Is that to do with your parents? Did those two breaking up make you think love doesn't last?"
And up until now I had sworn to myself that I was content with loneliness, because none of it was ever worth the risk.
His next words sounded loaded, full of things that had me thinking he was hoping I would understand the things between the lines.
"Maybe. I don't like talking about it much."
But you are the only exception.
Lucky for him, I'm an observant person.
We fell asleep like that, fully clothed (protected from sleeping sexual predators with our mutual denim material) and with one earphone in an ear, playing music until I woke up to death metal in the middle of the night and almost threw the ipod across the room.
Almost. I almost did. But since I value my life and respected Jean's items, it only ended up on the floor. On the other side of the room. I didn't think about what I was doing when I went back to the warmth of the bed. I was drowsy, my eyes were heavy and I was not in a good mood, instinctively reaching an arm over Jean's waist as though he were my teddy (I'm not SAYING that I still have teddies... but I might do.)
I peered at his face in the darkness, the window making one side of his face glow. I moved my arm up and traced the curve of his pale cheek with my thumb. I gazed at him side on from my pillow. I couldn't believe it turned out that Jean was lot more thoughtful than I gave him credit for.
He was a little more bitter than I hoped for, but… even knowing that that was how it was helped me understand where things were with him, what I needed to do, and how to help him… Hopefully.
"There's a lot you haven't let yourself feel, Jean, things you haven't went out to do, or find out. And unless you break down the things that're stopping you from wanting to explore, and loving someone, you won't find it. But trust me, it's out there. If you look you'll find love all over the place. It could be that… it's right here, too." I blushed with my mouth lazily curving upwards, my thumb stopping slightly on his face.
"It's like when you get a dog, and suddenly you start seeing a ton of people have dogs when you go out to walk yours. I'm… pretty sure there are times where people never stop loving each other, even when they separate or when they want different things. And things like falling out of love can just… happen, I guess. Is that what happened with your parents? But, see, that's not always the case, Jean." I sighed, closing my eyes as I withdrew my hand, burying my face into the covers.
"One day, maybe it won't be any time soon, I want you to believe me when I say that."
