AN/ Warning: DARK THEMES AHEAD, I am aware this maybe a tiring chapter to read as it was not easy to write and I had fun just until I reached the half of it, but I feel this was necessarily to take it to this lengths so you could understand the importance this had in their relationship. I too dislike him but he is necessary in the development of this story. I hope you don't get bored, I hopeeee you like it :B
Sorry if my writing was a bit repetitive and tiring? Lol I had issues with the tense I wanted to use so you may find some grammar horrors and structural issues, I couldn't double check, just like very quick because it's hella late.
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Enjoy.
OOOO
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L O V E
All the King's horses
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It frustrates him, like nothing have had the clout power to frustrate him before, Jazz' façade remains unreceptive, thoroughly nonchalant. All that is stoicism and plain indifference harks him back of Jazz' hazardous yellow eyes. Zedd is always impressed and every time he confronts his former comrade's aloofness, he is always received with a new layer of derision and jarring sarcasm, each time is more hurtful than the last one.
Jazz is unreadable as a cipher, a complex one, and admittedly, his cruelness towards the bigger man has ascended to a villainous level, almost wicked and criminal to Zedd's self-proclaimed praiseworthiness, one that comes perfunctorily with the sole benefit of being a living thing. It is an implicit regulation that comes innate within the true value of people, but when it comes to Zedd, Jazz simply won't esteem or respect such knowledge, for him Zedd is little less than nothing. "Ah Zedd, you do remind me of a cockroach. I seem to stomp on you and you just won't die... Die yet?"
And he says all this with a smile.
"Hm, Zedd? A man was slaughtered veeery grimly last night," Jazz sighs distantly, almost dreamily, "How I wish it was you."
"…"
"Aye, that poor man's family might be mourning right now, if it was you, nobody would."
Jazz sees no line whatsoever in between hostility and downright destruction, he glowers at Zedd with his authoritative bellicose eyes and his voice screeches not so silently an ever vicious line, always that he has a chance, always that he has the humor to speak. Because other times he won't even look at him.
"Zedd, how I wished you weren't born, imagine all the possibilities yay!" he laughs amused, as if the imagery brought him joy and yet for Zedd he looks just as pretty, "Let us not fret, I can still shoot right between your eyes."
"…"
"Gushes upon surges of blood oozing from everywhere! How cool but I just can't picture your brains? Perhaps I'm foreseeing the lack of these?" Jazz snickers again, his mirth is shoddy and arcane, "For sure you'd appeal my disgust, you'd look for once execrably engaging."
His apathetic and vile mockers troubles Zedd to restless nights, sinister shivers of genuine loathness cripples his mind to where there isn't ever a healthy return, for Zedd it is difficult to keep up and not victimize himself. He feels sorry for his own persona more frequently than not and sometimes he allows himself to forget why is him subjected to such inimical mistreat. Those are the times where he will meander in all the possibilities of how he can break havoc in those alluring golden slits.
But he just can't underestimate Jazz' remnant bequest; Jazz is strong and resilient and unbendable and definitely flawless and unquestionably, Jazz is the dignified subject of his unhealthy desire. So Zedd is fanatical of him, he feels infatuated by the fervent obsession and the passionate hate he professes for him, it doesn't matter if he imperils his day to venerate Jazz or to averse him.
For him, it is all about Jazz, Jazz and Jazz.
He likes to think that Jazz abhors him, for more reasons than simply being tired of Zedd's timeless persecution, but truth is, Jazz have never showed anything more than hilarity, wicked entertainment if everything, but certainly- no anger, no resentment, less sadness, even lesser- fear. It is what bothers him the most.
Zedd constantly works himself in the thought that Jazz despises him, that he detests him with his entire heart, because hate is just as strong as love, but his hopes are repeatedly thrown downhills if he inquires Jazz about it.
"Do you hate me?"
"No, I don't hate you." He says easily. Zedd notices how he always sounds so sure about his thoughts. Never a hesitation, never flailing; Jazz' discourse always feels impeccable against his own impediments and incompetent approaches.
"But you wish I, you-" he shakes his head, Jazz wonders to snap what brain if Zedd doesn't seem to have one "You wish I was dead."
"As I wish I'd never had to encounter a cockroach, yuck," He sticks out his tongue, he then beams in deviated cheerfulness, just about as serene as it can get "I can live perfectly happy with the knowledge that they exist though. You level that."
"…"
"I would not give you so much importance to hate you."
Those days Zedd stomps all the way back home and screams and destroys his home all over again because he is genuinely sick of Jazz. Because he knows that Jazz definitely doesn't profess love for him but just as much he doesn't profess hate either and that is- alarming. Jazz evidently sees him as some sort of dull entertainment, as a puppet to which he can be experimentally cruel and unkind with. Because as far as he knows, with other people Jazz is not usually a bastard.
A complete bastard is less of a designation to what he is with him, Jazz is much harsher than that, he doesn't seem to qualify Zedd as a life form that deserves the dignified treatment of such. Usually, Zedd's awareness feels pressed to further analyze and scrutiny his very own responses; mentality is something Jazz can play well, a game Zedd is not a fair opponent to. With a lectured person such as Jazz, he can't merely shrug.
"What is funny to me is how self-entitled you feel to even ask such a thing." Jazz places his cheek on his palm, his elbow on his knee, he seems unperturbed, almost bored, his lips stretch in comicality and he sniggers sardonically, "So much self-esteem for an ordinary maggot."
"I just asked about this new kid I've seen around you lately, Axes, Alexis or… whatever."
"Aksel, you dimwit. But hm, didn't know a larvae could manage balls." He pokes his own chin tentatively, his tone irreverent "How interesting."
"You are avoiding my question."
"Shall I answer," his eyes hardens, his smirk is not less mordant "do enlighten me why."
"…"
"Exactly," he giggles satirically, and points at Zedd "exactly that, how intelligent of you!" tongue in cheek, Jazz is caustically acid.
Concretely but not less adamantly, it is a difficult task not to surrender against Jazz' elaborate and sumptuous speech. Zedd knows that regardless how loosely the exchange comes across or how intricate it goes between them, he is always the chosen one to lose, it is a game innately but most inherently cruel to him, a game figured and masterly reckoned by his skillful adversary all too well.
Exasperatingly and much more honestly than that, Zedd does not think Jazz is even trying.
And that part is where he mostly loses his mind through fidgety and agitated nights of Insomnia, when his mind is clear and even when it feels muddled, it is unavoidable for him not to notice that Jazz doesn't put him much thought as he does for him, Jazz doesn't seem to mind him at all, he isn't even a pest insufferable enough to make him slightly distressed, while it is true that Jazz' words bite hard, they bite for the sheer roughness and the rudiment they impend, not because they mean something more. Not because Jazz want them to mean anything else.
Jazz is genuine with how he expresses his mind; all in all, it is his unpolished frankness and honesty that traduces as sheer insignificance and meaninglessness as of value- or lack of it towards Zedd. Not that Jazz ever tried to hide this. More basically, Jazz is purely indifferent and Zedd can't help but acknowledge this, he seizes the obvious, especially throughout those wide smirks and vindictive gazes.
The most agonizing- hindrance between every single taunt that slips ever so sharply off of Jazz' tongue happens to be the irrelevancy Zedd plays in the life of him. The sole thought keeps Zedd coming back to attempt, try hard to ruffle Jazz' skin the wrong way; sometimes he convinces himself that he has conveyed at least something, he thinks there must be bitterness, acrimony hatred underneath Jazz' flesh for him. He never ceases to swell in disappointment when he proves himself that there is none. Jazz simply lacks interest.
He repeats words that are insignificant and hollow and Jazz always has the power to recant destruction, his soliloquy weaving clues that are both obscure and all too clear, a crippling sense of Deja-vu turns Zedd into a witness of this play, grounds him to the spot so that he can watch as events unfolds with irrevocable tolls of the past.
Because Jazz isn't fragile. Not at all, for that he is sure. But then again, Jazz is what he wants to be, with who he wants to be and Zedd knows that- all too well. "Ah," Jazz sighs disappointed, his bullet missed its target, outwardly diverted, he revises the shotgun's powdery orifice and then gleams back at Zedd "My marksmanship never fails," Jazz sneers poignantly "I'm an impeccable snipper." He reminds him, mostly menacingly.
In resume, he missed to kill Zedd with his shotgun. Zedd wonders if it was on purpose.
Jazz is sitting on a rock, gun on lap, a black gear to carry the large riffle, his sneer is on. Zedd doesn't think he has to wonder anymore, Jazz obviously missed on purposed; after all, Jazz wouldn't become a killer for someone he doesn't care for. So he simply misses and laughs. In his opinion, Jazz is one 'coldblooded motherfucker.'
Zedd breathes dreadfully, his heart is about to explode, his ears still rumble, the bullet still feels as if it loomed to assassinate him, he sees Jazz gripping his riffle close to his chest, elevates the firearm skillfully and then Zedd watches as Jazz points at him again, scathingly cynic. Jazz closes one eye, as if to aim correctly this time around. "It would be so easy." He licks his reddish lips, derisively ruthless.
"Shoot then" Zedd dares, Jazz shrugs agreeably and removes the trigger guard, when Zedd squeezes his eyes in fright, Jazz kicks the metal bucket that is on his left as hard as he can, the platform from his boots crashes against brass with thunderous force, it perfectly mimics the sound of a gunshot. Zedd falters and screams, he recoils scarily on the floor, once he notices he is not dead and the sound didn't actually come from Jazz' gun, he grimaces in shame. he hears a heartless snort coming from the armed man.
Jazz bursts in laughter, points at Zedd mockingly, he can't speak at all and his attempts to break his own laughter twists into merciless giggles and he even doubles over to touch his own stomach because it hurts to laugh that much, it's just too funny for him, "haha Pathe… hah, pathetic.." Zedd is seeing red, he fists his hands and as he regains his composure, he swears that one fine day, he will be Jazz' imminent doom. He knows he can't execute Jazz right there and then, he knows he is not the one holding a high caliber rifle.
Jazz finishes with a callous snicker and then watches him, intently, audaciously, "Are you sure though?" His peril eyes screeches calamity, Zedd remains quiet.
There is smoke all around them, it still smells of gunpowder from the first shot that Jazz did trigger. Even none fatally, Zedd is certain that Jazz wouldn't have had any remorse in shooting his knee off. His heart is clogged in the middle of his trachea, he is still shaking, he knows he just had a close-call with death 'is this motherfucker for real?'
"No, right?" Jazz smirks, undecipherable to Zedd's cognizance, Jazz places the shotgun to his side, regularly; he finds himself despising Jazz' every breath, "You know not to follow me anymore don't you?" Jazz points his index fingers at him, simulates a gun and childishly motions a trigger, he mutters a 'bam'.
"Perhaps."
Jazz' eyes sharpen, "It wasn't a question," his darkened voice scraps his ears, it does alert him, "It's a warning."
Zedd nods, but the mindless motion itches Jazz' hands to attempt murder again, he refrains himself from doing so. Jazz contemplates that Zedd is sure- lucky to survive a snipper's shot and whilst he wouldn't give Zedd so much relevancy to murder him today, he grins darkly at the thought that he would not be as merciful next time, the image of a dead Zedd delights him deeply "…Right…"
Jazz simply stands from where he is sitting, grabs his riffle's stock, accommodates his vest and without anything else to add, he starts walking away. He strolls unpreoccupied past Zedd's disturbed self and leaves.
Zedd watches as his lean figure disappears in the autumn's condensed steam, he wonders about him.
He knows he has lost the most basic level of humanity in his eyes and the worst part is that he just can't blame Jazz. Not even in his utmost victimized soliloquies. He is aware that he is the one who has taken his harmful fixation way too far, to a very corrupt corner, to accomplish a very morbid objective. For a long time now, he has sought to witness Jazz' permanent grin falter at least once, to weaken him just a little, maybe to break him into pieces and maybe then, his touch will be welcome, his presence will be needed. Maybe then, in his twisted mind, Jazz will love him back.
But it never happens, it never happened, he has done everything that he thinks may thorn Jazz' body and mind apart, is not that Jazz subjects himself to this intentions. But compulsively, hideously and very carefully, Zedd has tried it all, in hopes to bristle him into pieces but it only ends up in frustration for him. Jazz' mind remains spotless, as far as it seems, he only appears to be stronger and more amused than before.
One thing for sure, Zedd wants him, obsessively so, unhealthily so, regardless the deep hatred he holds for him, he wants him and it angers and troubles him to know that Jazz doesn't want him back.
"Don't you mind?" Now that he thinks about it, Jazz answers with scheming games and he waves it off, moves his head dismissively, -No, Jazz never minds.
And it is a game Zedd can't play, he knows he is not completely his victim, after all, all he wants is to destroy Jazz, because he doesn't like him. And now, he doesn't expect something- anything, or Jazz is just being hell, a manipulative scornful bastard with the intent to make him drown in his own mania, because he is just too insignificant for him.
'Zedd is too insignificant for Jazz'.
So he calls Jazz, he messages him, desperate texts of murk desire, and he sends pitiful letters and later, he finds them in the trashcan outside Jazz' house, sealed, without opening, and so he stomps all the way to wherever Jazz is and he yells and he begs, and shouts, he cries and tells him he will kill himself for good, he says he loves him, he never obtains anything else than laughs, shrugs, impenetrable grins and the whole mockery that feels too empty because they are too real.
And he asks him why, why and why he does what he does to him, he asks him why he isn't in love with him as he is and Jazz just hoods his eyes and mocks and ridicules and points his fingers and calls him as always- pathetic. But empty, so empty, so real and hellish, and everything is shallow and Jazz doesn't even mean to be upset, because he is not, he is just tired, it is obvious he is tired of seeing him, tired of hearing about his obsession and occurs to Zedd that Jazz is simply tired because he had to go to college.
Jazz doesn't give an actual fuck.
"I raped you."
"I know."
"Twice." He says drily, he drops his wretched apologies to the trash and tries to push Jazz' mind somewhere dark, as if trying to trigger anything; anger, sadness, wrath, terror whatever that may show that Zedd has managed to hurt him, that he is simply- affected.
"You fear me, that's why you did that." He offers simply, his face is pretty and hysterically Zedd repeats this in his head- 'he is too pretty, he is too pretty, he is too pretty', Yet he is too upset to dismiss the response he acquires from him.
"Why would you say that?"
"Oh," he feigns interest, "Rape is not about pleasure Zedd, you know that very well, rape is about power."
"I don't get it."
"Hardly anything," Jazz guffaws, "when you drugged me, it was because you fear me at my sharpest and most awoken state," he snickers proudly, " because you can't get what you want from me, you will never, not from Jazz and I'm always Jazz, relentlessly so and you hate it, because you can't break me. You don't know how" he smirks as if he spoke about anything mere.
Jazz continues "Regardless Jazz is unconscious and not entirely well- Jazz," he scoffs, sinisterly cheered "You still seek to overpower something that you know you could never overpower otherwise. Because Zedd you are the weakest and most pathetic man I know." He laughs and looks witty as he explains "Why, I can't bring myself to be upset with you, if anything, I pity you."
Jazz hums and Zedd remains speechless, "it is very interesting to see what brings authority to certain people. Humanity is just as fascinating."
"It's fair to say you can't be part of the undertow that wrecked your tide in the first place, as a saying says." Jazz ties his hair in a bun, dispassionately, he is not upset, he is too assertive, his words carve in deep "I'm not broken Zedd," their eyes lock, Jazz' voice is unwavering.
"Even if you call for murder," his graceful hand waves, disinterestedly "I will not die because you ever managed to harm me, it's because you were too scared to let me live." The assertion brings a weighty knot in Zedd's stomach "You are, once again- pathetic." He moves his shoulders as he walks past him, he points at the bigger man, contemptuously, "Merely that, a pathetic excuse of a human being. A scrub, a filthy insect that doesn't even bother me at all."
Jazz daggered, finally "I could see you live despite it all and find genuine happiness, even now, I am in fact, happy. Your presence as a whole is just one dust particle that I can perfectly ignore. For me you are nothing."
Zedd decides he is hurt.
He notices that Jazz' words aren't even intricate, they lack dexterity and deftness and all that characterizes Jazz' usual complicated speech, but they are unpolished, rough and somehow, the most honest thing he had ever heard come from Jazz' mouth. And Zedd drowns in sorrow and knows that Jazz means every word he said, that he doesn't really like him but he doesn't pursuit to damage him, only because he doesn't care enough to plot against Zedd.
Jazz is just being real, he doesn't even seem upset at all, if anything, he looks amused, edging once again in- boredom.
It pains him so much that he has to leave. So he leaves and Jazz again, just shrugs.
.
"Ugh, how irritating, you must have done something to have him clinging like that."
The phone has been insistently ringing for the last hour.
Jazz shakes his head, his eyebrows furrows with yet another headache caused by the averring annoyance the buzzing of the phone brings to him, he throws his phone to his left, they are in his house and apart from the persistent noise, it's is quiet. Jazz almost purrs when Aksel's hand runs comfortingly soft through his plum colored hair. When his fingers touch his neck it almost feels intimate so he sighs pleasantly and Aksel discovers that he likes the sound. Jazz closes his eyes, his day was shitty, he had a sly argument with Lena about returning to his mother's house so he decides, he is not in the required astral mood to answer Zedd's absurd calls, "Believe me when I tell you I've not."
When Jazz first spoke about Zedd, it happened to be a lot easier to lie and say that they used to be tangled in something compromising. It was easier than ridicule himself about having someone close to a dangerous stalker, someone who used to be his friend and ultimately got twisted in between his insane obsession to have him.
Thanks to sexism, arguments such as -'You are a man, that doesn't happen to you.' Or 'If that was true and you didn't actually like it, you would have gotten rid of it already', 'what kind of weak man you happen to be? I mean you are dude.'-Would come easily at the table and Jazz was not at all ready to deal with all that crap.
How would Jazz argue them that Zedd is in fact a masochist brainless neanderthal that has no understanding and no respect whatsoever about being turned down? Jazz knows this was impossible just as well.
Jazz is protective with himself, with that comes the obvious. Whilst it's true that they used to be somehow friendly towards each other, it is completely false to say Jazz ever had a romantic interest for him, with that fact came Zedd's unhealthy obsession, it has always been unrequired.
Jazz would never put himself in such a vulnerable position with the rest, and in Jazz' logic, that position as powerless as his gives him a certain side of delicacy that he despises, he is so much rougher than that. So as far as Aksel and everyone else knew, Zedd was someone who fucked with him once and then totally lost his mind, all to be with him- again. And since Jazz didn't mind his sexual reputation, it all felt much easier like that.
Certainly easier than rapist.
Much more accurately his rapist.
It is almost self- explanatorily if he wonders why being raped is such a sharpened weapon for others against him, he prefers to lie and keep quiet about the battles he endures. He would rather die than give others a glimpse of what had weakened him over the past years, especially because these events could easily become a way to cause him disaster.
He can't concentrate enough and drops his thoughts, he sees blank and respires the ginger's elegant aroma, he feels shivers ripping at his spine, Aksel's hand is strong and feels soft against his skin, he just wished Aksel could openly touch him somewhere else, as long as possible.
Aksel's hand drops to reach for the phone, "Let me speak with him." Jazz only moves his head in negative and he moves close to his friend, he snuggles affectionately against Aksel's shoulder and judging by the unusual approach coming from Jazz' usual distant self, Aksel assumes Jazz is in fact- bothered, "Jaaz."
"That's so petty," he groans softly in response, "Just leave him there, he'll grow tired eventually."
But to resolve Jazz' issues, Aksel would simply do anything.
"Give me your phone."
Aksel stretches enough and he takes it, it's still buzzing and ringing, his eyes become bluebell slits, he wraps his arm around Jazz's waist and brings his warm body even closer, somehow, he heavily dislikes the idea of someone pursuing Jazz so insistently. But he won't meander in that thought just yet, for now, things paint themselves to be funny, that son of a bitch Zedd will wish he was never born.
.
"Jazz? Why do you take so long-"
"Jazz is not available on my line~"
"Let me speak with Jazz. He recently moved from where he used to live." Aksel growls, internally, so that was the reason Zedd was being so pestering, he was trying hard to block Jazz from starting all over again.
Aksel smirks evilly, "I can't this is my line, told you~"
"Why is a dude answering anyways?"
He chuckles, sharply, "This is my phone, dullard, don't pretend you didn't hear."
"I'll find a way to speak with him," Zedd barks "you are just elongating the nuisance."
"hm, Wherever and whenever you call, I will answer, you'll see. If you are searching for Jaaz then you'll be forwarded to your humble server."
"Fuck you."
"Uh-uh," he childishly scolds, humorously shadowy "Don't speak to me like that, you'll wake up dead."
Zedd hangs up.
.
"I want to speak with Jazz."
"Then stop calling my line, duh."
"What?"
"Fourth day in a row that I answer, how much time do you need to understand this is my phone number?"
"He is mine."
He scoffs, "You want to bet?"
Zedd hangs up.
.
"Listen motherfucker-"
"Words imbecile." He interrupts, reprimanding "Don't test your luck."
"Where is Jazz?"
"He is with me, but you are calling my phone number," He laughs, charmed, "Again."
Zedd hangs up.
.
"Zeeddd~" the Accent is strong, -'who is this guy?' "Two weeks, still calling like stop calling already, or I'll kill you." He sounds deceitfully mirthful.
"Get lost. I know Jazz is listening, listen Jazz I'll find you, stop cowering-"
"Ah," he neighs, pleased, "I wished he was here. But he is out there, now stop calling me, I have things to do."
"Fuck! I am not calling you! I am cal-"
"Words imbecile."
Zedd hangs up.
.
"Are you his boyfriend or something?"
"Yuck no," he laughs, Zedd is somehow relieved "My turn to ask!" Aksel chirps in, "Why the hell have you been calling me every day for the last three weeks? again?"
Zedd sighs, almost defeated, "I'm calling to speak with Jazz. He moved from where he used to live and I haven't seen him since then."
"This is my phone number, why can't you get it through your thick skull? You deadass don't get it?"
"I know this is Jazz' phone number-"
"Alright, let's do something, tell me what you want to say, I'll think if I can forward it to him."
"I can't, I have to speak with him in person."
"To say what?"
"Why do you even care?"
Aksel laughs and laughs some more and he doesn't stop laughing until Zedd hangs up.
.
Hands in his pockets, the night is shadowy and the moonbeam is opaque and foggy against his skin. His lungs are being obstructed by the clotting mist, Aksel is fuming, he is seeing red. His hand tightens on the gun's metallic barrel, his eyes are immersed in the limitless rage he feels bubbling beneath his skin; nighttime is cold but he feels he is being scalded alive.
It is the power of wrath. The power of annihilation. The thirst for revenge.
Jazz just told him the truth. Simply that. The truth about Zedd, the truth about the past, he opened to him and explained what role Zedd was playing in his life, a role Jazz admitted he never expected to be obligated to endure. And when the twisted and perverted nature of Zedd's intentions hit Aksel, he couldn't help but fume in astringent fury. Without Jazz knowing, Aksel took the decision that Zedd wouldn't see the light of sun.
Not ever, not again.
The lack of context used to make him wonder about their relationship. But now it all makes sense and he has stopped believing that Jazz was somehow protecting Zedd from anything, Jazz was and is actually protecting himself and it is just so Jazz-like to do so, because he never had anyone to prove him wrong, Jazz had always felt alone. It angers Aksel that he didn't notice it before. Aksel just can't believe Zedd actually targeted someone like Jazz.
A person that despite his defensive, aggressive mechanism, is rather fragile, with a good heart. A young person barely on his 19's, he knows Zedd is 24. Jazz is remarkably thinner and tinier-framed than Zedd's big and bulky casing.
Zedd knows Jazz is alone, Zedd knows that nobody will react for him- and he acts upon this thought. It angers Aksel that Zedd genuinely did all of what he did because a person with the vulnerable profile of Jazz would not do anything too radical to defend himself.
Aksel is aware Jazz may attempt to sound dangerous, what else a lonely, fragile-framed person would do against a big, imposing threat such as Zedd? A threat that he knows he can't fight against. Lash and bark, that's all Jazz does and it rages Aksel, because Jazz isn't alone, he wasn't supposed to ever feel that way, he totally forgot he had him, a skilled Norwegian coldblooded psychopath by his side.
And now Aksel knows that Jazz tried for so long, he reacted and still reacts verballyand physically violent to what lengths he can, to scarcely protect himself. Aksel thinks that nobody should be pushed under that kind of abuse, less someone he cares for deeply. Zedd even sexually assaulted him and Zedd knows- rather- he fucking thinks there are no consequences, yet- Aksel promises- there are not yet consequences son of a bitch, you'll rot in my hell motherfucker.
And Aksel can't believe causality has treated Jazz so poorly. Because there is a reason Jazz is forceful and rough despite his soft skin, Aksel is aware that circumstances have shaped him to be violent and self-defensive but he sees through all that and he knows he is kinder than he admits, he is the only person who had shown him genuine loyalty.
Aksel knows Jazz has pretty hands and he has someway noticed he is slightly shy, he smells sweet and is a nerd why, he wonders angrily, why would someone torment him the way Zedd does and the difference between those crying victims he has seen on the TV when they are constantly stalked or those who are raped and Jazz is none, it all goes down to Jazz' coarse attitude and so Aksel wonders what he really feels, he can't quiet pinpoint what consequences will there be later on for him, a person that's too special for Aksel.
And Aksel won't allow it.
And so he goes and discharges his ire.
There is something called vengeance, something he wants to hand at Jazz, for once, he wants Jazz to see someone will respond for his sorrow, that someone did. He wants to show him that he doesn't have to be that strong all the time and so he drives to Zedd's house and makes it happen, all to make Jazz happy.
.
"Did you hear about that?"
"About Zedd?"
Issei nods at Shippo, "I heard that he was riddled- no, pelted to a bloodied mush," He winces, "There were shots all over his limbs," Issei moves his head, noticeably disturbed, "Dude! there was a shot in his dick."
"Say what?" asks Shippo, surprised. That level of violence was not usual in the exurbia he has inhabited since day one.
"And the autopsy this morning confirmed it wasn't the shot that killed him."
Shippo cringes, concerned, "he was- tortured?"
"Seems so, my mom read about it in the newspaper today and damn, details were gruesome."
Shippo flinches, "He was definitely onto something shady," he concludes, uneasy, "Nobody kills you like that without a reason."
"Nope." Aksel agrees, his façade is impassable "Nobody kills you like that without a reason."
'Jazz, I would do anything for you.
Absolutely anything.'
.
Jazz doesn't explain what he feels now, he doesn't explain what has gone through his mind before, he just lets his forehead rest against Aksel's chest and even after Aksel promises him that he didn't have anything to do with Zedd's death, Jazz still hugs him because he is obviously lying, Jazz knows what he did, and he knows he did it for him.
Aksel's lip stretches in a candid smile, Jazz huddles in closely, calmly and affectionately. Aksel rejoices as he identifies a heartfelt sigh, fragile, sincere and coated in untainted alleviation, "Thank you so much Aksel."
The nightmare is over. Jazz can breathe, sincerely now.
Aksel doesn't respond, he remains quiet, he knows he should deny his involvement but there is something rewarding about having being 'good' for once, with someone he loves, with someone he cares for. Aksel's arms tighten around the body that feels too tired to even pretend he isn't, and he knows Jazz' weight is finally off his shoulders, for once and for all. Zedd is dead and he cannot attempt to hurt him anymore. Aksel closes his eyes and breathes in his friend's enticing scent, this is not the first time he admits that he likes Jazz.
But far from stellular thoughts that both have yet to admit to each other, Jazz feels fine and Aksel is too glad that for once, Jazz feels a certain way, zealously protected.
O
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O
AN/ By disliking 'him' I meant I dislike Zedd, I hope I explained that there are no good feelings for him (from Jazz) and more importantly what Aksel thought is far more accurate than all the twisted and tangled thoughts you could see from Zedd's POV, even if I wrote in third person, I guess you could read what was on their minds.
You may think I could have make Zedd's apparition a little bit shorter to see more of Aksel/Jazz, but it is important that you know the hell Jazz was going through regardless his attitude against it and how much it means what Aksel did for him, he basically saved him without knowing too much. We are touching Aksel and Jazz' personal issues and all this bring them closer as friends, I think this is the last chapter dedicated to character development to finally get to romance because it was edging here already.
Aksel is a hero lol the antihero hero.
Hold on, we are getting close, I mean their romance didn't develop as quick as I would love to lol but we are getting just there, once again I think the Zedd issue added so much to their friendship and Jazz' eventual trust, you can guess why is him so distrustful towards the world asides from his family. So yeah I just couldn't write two paragraphs about it. Just to clear, there are NO behind feelings from Jazz, means all he felt for Zedd was dislike and obviously all the obscure shit one would feel if one was sexually assaulted, so it would be FUCKED UP from me to imply Jazz reciprocated Zedd's feelings. So Please, if he behaved as bitter with him is because he wanted him simply AWAY and also, Jazz sees no solution in killing (not by him) so it wasn't an option, but he was getting there lol
I feel as if this was just as necessary as Aksel's memory of his sister, it adds so much to his character.
PLUS for next chapter, I have already written some romantics scenes between Aksel and Jazz so next chapter will come off quicker :D Also Ranma x Youki fic is on the work, TT w TT total fluff because I was checking that I had the idea of Kintsugi since August. It was my main work and now that is done, LOVE is my main work, next is RXY fluff fic because why the hell not.
Back to LOVE I think in fact chapter 5 is already on some slash boy/boy goodness :D So hang in there. I dont expect anyone else to read this, asides from you. Don't betray me lol
Till next time
Batya000