Untitled fluff thing.
Notes: Not sure how happy I am with this. I'll have to read it again in the morning, but I told Laura I would post it.
He stole his heart with those eyes.
The depth of them, their shape, the way they looked directly into him without making him afraid for his life. He was so enraptured with them he had never really bothered to actually take note of their color. Green. Wow, he had /green/ eyes. They were gorgeous.
Jean couldn’t keep looking, because he was now absolutely terrified.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
They were a pile of sweating and panting and lazy kisses. Well, maybe not a pile, but three people was still taking some getting used to for all involved, even though it had been a little while since their little tryst had begun. Riordan was sort of on the bottom, arms splayed out at his sides with a satisfied grin on his features, Taylor just barely supporting himself over Ri before collapsing on top of him, resting his head against his shoulder.
Jean wasn’t looking at either of them, even though he was facing them both, his head resting more on Ri’s bicep than on his actual chest. His eyes were closed, listening to the whispered muses of the other two boys he was in bed with. He stole a little peek, but only at Taylor. God, it was difficult enough looking at Taylor, he had always been the most beautiful young man Jean had ever laid eyes on, the guy he had been pretty sure he had lost his last chance with ages ago. (Okay, not ages.)
But he couldn’t look at Riordan. So he closed his eyes again, feigning exhaustion as he waited for the other two to quiet down. Just wait for them to settle down to bed, and creep out…
Taylor leaned over Riordan at one point to kiss Jean on top of the head and run a hand through his mussed blonde hair, but Jean only stirred, not opening his eyes. Just wait…
Jean’s waiting paid off, and soon he couldn’t hear or feel any more movement from either of the other boys. So, carefully and quietly, Jean opened his eyes, sitting up and slipping out of the bed. He grabbed his shirt and boxers, but he pulled on his jeans quickly - he honestly didn’t care if anyone saw him walking the four feet to his own room shirtless.
He glanced back at the other two boys and bed, and his heart stopped. He was gazing right into those eyes, those green eyes…
Jean took a deep breath, immediately looking away before he could let his mind wander, shuffling out of the room, hoping he hadn’t woken Taylor as well.
Thankfully there was nobody in the hall waiting to ask Jean why he was making the walk of shame out of /that/ room, of all places, and he slipped into his own room. He sat at his desk chair, trying to think of some way to distract himself from the image that wouldn’t leave his mind.
Absently he grabbed a notebook and a pen from his backpack. What was he going to do, homework? Dear lord.
/Tap, tap./
Jean thought he was seriously going to have a heart attack. The sound of somebody knocking on your door in the dead of night tended to do that to you. “What the fuck,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his tee-shirt and pulling it on, just in case it was some R.A. or something. Didn’t want to look like he’d been recently sexed up or anything. After fixing his hair in an invisible mirror in front of him, he went over to the door, opening it a peek.
His stomach dropped.
Riordan was shirtless, arms cross, hair still messed up. Jean could almost see where his fingers had combed through the brown strands. “Are you gunna make this a habit?”
The French teenager made a bit of a face at Riordan. He had mastered the unphased look, though he didn’t know how practiced it was around Riordan yet. He hadn’t really been given time to adjust yet, or prepare… “What do you mean?”
“Doing that. Just leaving afterwards. It’s kinda starting to bother Taylor actually,” he said with a bit of a shrug, almost bluntly. “He hasn’t said anything yet, but you can tell, can’t you?”
Jean’s stomach tightened, stepping back to let Riordan into his room and shutting the door behind him. They both knew this wasn’t appropriate for the doorway. “Look, it’s just a threesome. We don’t have to… make it anything it’s not.”
That was the worst thing he could have said. The look in those green, green eyes tore Jean apart. And it wasn’t like how Taylor would have looked, hurt and defeated. No, this was worse.
Riordan knew what Jean was pulling. “You’re making a right arse of yourself over this.”
That was a pretty good slap in the face to him. He gathered himself up for a comeback. “You’re not the one who’s the third wheel in a couple. I don’t want to… mess anything up with you two.” He couldn’t look at Riordan anymore.
There was a short pause before Riordan spoke again. “Okay, look.” Jean looked back up at him, confused by the change in his tone. He didn’t understand it quite yet… “I’m just getting used to all of this, with Taylor. I mean, I’m getting better at it all, you know, being alright with… being with boys and all that.” Jean scoffed at that, because sometimes it was hard for Jean to remember Ri used to be a pretty homophobic jock. “And if anything’s going to mess it up, it sure won’t be you. We’ll be fine.” Riordan grinned, almost reassuring but with just a touch of cheek to it.
Jean chuckled a little bit at that, but he wasn’t completely reassured. “It’s more complicated than that.”
Riordan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is everythin’ alrigh’ with you?”
Jean couldn’t keep going with this. He couldn’t tell Riordan about how much his heart jumped up to his throat when he saw Riordan looking at him. And it wasn’t really possible to explain to him how inspired Riordan made him, a solid backbone that Jean had never had, a real friend that Jean hadn’t had since…
Before Jean knew what was happening, Riordan was in front of him, his hands resting on his hips. The space between them was suddenly so intimate. Jean recalled to mind the last time they had been this close without Taylor around; Jean had snuck out to the practice fields in the snow to watch Riordan. They had huddled together in the bleachers for thirty minutes before they both hurried inside so they didn’t die.
Jean could barely speak, so Riordan did a little talking instead. “You can trust me, Jean. I mean… you really can.”
The young artist, fumbling and confused, shook his head, unable to make eye contact with his… lover? Whatever Riordan was, he couldn’t look at him right now. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.” He was so close now, Jean could taste the breath between them, sweet and full of uncertainty. Or maybe that was just him. Ri seemed to have a pretty good head on his shoulders right now.
Jean took the biggest risk he could and tilted his head up to gaze right into Ri’s big eyes.
Waves of emotion passed through him. Anxiety, fear, surprise, fear again, anticipation, and then settling on just anxiety. Jean’s heart was beating against his ribs, and he was under a spell in Ri’s arms.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” It was the most amazing voice…
Jean took a deep breath, gaze still trapped by Riordan’s. “I-I haven’t felt this way for… but th-the last time I let this happen… I got my heart broken…”
Riordan didn’t seem to be following Jean’s attention deficit thought process. “…Are you falling for Taylor?”
Jean could almost laugh at how he said it, as if it wasn’t obvious. “God, it’s not just that… “ He couldn’t look away from Riordan again, and he was pretty sure that he had just said everything.
In an instant, their lips were touching, and Jean’s mind went blank. When it started back up again, Riordan was speaking in his ear. “You’ll be alright, Jean.” And as Jean fell into Riordan’s arms, letting him kiss him and hold him any way he wanted, Jean was accepting the facts of the situation. First of all, he was making out with Taylor’s boyfriend, but it was okay because if he could he’d be doing the same thing to Taylor (if that made any sense.) Secondly, Riordan had found a spot with his hands on Jean’s lower back that turned him to jelly.
Third, Jean was falling hard for Riordan McHaffey.
And he was hoping that this meant that the fourth would be that Riordan was falling for Jean.
He stole his heart with those eyes.
The depth of them, their shape, the way they looked directly into him without making him afraid for his life. He was so enraptured with them he had never really bothered to actually take note of their color. Green. Wow, he had /green/ eyes. They were gorgeous.
Jean couldn’t keep looking, because he was now absolutely terrified.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
They were a pile of sweating and panting and lazy kisses. Well, maybe not a pile, but three people was still taking some getting used to for all involved, even though it had been a little while since their little tryst had begun. Riordan was sort of on the bottom, arms splayed out at his sides with a satisfied grin on his features, Taylor just barely supporting himself over Ri before collapsing on top of him, resting his head against his shoulder.
Jean wasn’t looking at either of them, even though he was facing them both, his head resting more on Ri’s bicep than on his actual chest. His eyes were closed, listening to the whispered muses of the other two boys he was in bed with. He stole a little peek, but only at Taylor. God, it was difficult enough looking at Taylor, he had always been the most beautiful young man Jean had ever laid eyes on, the guy he had been pretty sure he had lost his last chance with ages ago. (Okay, not ages.)
But he couldn’t look at Riordan. So he closed his eyes again, feigning exhaustion as he waited for the other two to quiet down. Just wait for them to settle down to bed, and creep out…
Taylor leaned over Riordan at one point to kiss Jean on top of the head and run a hand through his mussed blonde hair, but Jean only stirred, not opening his eyes. Just wait…
Jean’s waiting paid off, and soon he couldn’t hear or feel any more movement from either of the other boys. So, carefully and quietly, Jean opened his eyes, sitting up and slipping out of the bed. He grabbed his shirt and boxers, but he pulled on his jeans quickly - he honestly didn’t care if anyone saw him walking the four feet to his own room shirtless.
He glanced back at the other two boys and bed, and his heart stopped. He was gazing right into those eyes, those green eyes…
Jean took a deep breath, immediately looking away before he could let his mind wander, shuffling out of the room, hoping he hadn’t woken Taylor as well.
Thankfully there was nobody in the hall waiting to ask Jean why he was making the walk of shame out of /that/ room, of all places, and he slipped into his own room. He sat at his desk chair, trying to think of some way to distract himself from the image that wouldn’t leave his mind.
Absently he grabbed a notebook and a pen from his backpack. What was he going to do, homework? Dear lord.
/Tap, tap./
Jean thought he was seriously going to have a heart attack. The sound of somebody knocking on your door in the dead of night tended to do that to you. “What the fuck,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his tee-shirt and pulling it on, just in case it was some R.A. or something. Didn’t want to look like he’d been recently sexed up or anything. After fixing his hair in an invisible mirror in front of him, he went over to the door, opening it a peek.
His stomach dropped.
Riordan was shirtless, arms cross, hair still messed up. Jean could almost see where his fingers had combed through the brown strands. “Are you gunna make this a habit?”
The French teenager made a bit of a face at Riordan. He had mastered the unphased look, though he didn’t know how practiced it was around Riordan yet. He hadn’t really been given time to adjust yet, or prepare… “What do you mean?”
“Doing that. Just leaving afterwards. It’s kinda starting to bother Taylor actually,” he said with a bit of a shrug, almost bluntly. “He hasn’t said anything yet, but you can tell, can’t you?”
Jean’s stomach tightened, stepping back to let Riordan into his room and shutting the door behind him. They both knew this wasn’t appropriate for the doorway. “Look, it’s just a threesome. We don’t have to… make it anything it’s not.”
That was the worst thing he could have said. The look in those green, green eyes tore Jean apart. And it wasn’t like how Taylor would have looked, hurt and defeated. No, this was worse.
Riordan knew what Jean was pulling. “You’re making a right arse of yourself over this.”
That was a pretty good slap in the face to him. He gathered himself up for a comeback. “You’re not the one who’s the third wheel in a couple. I don’t want to… mess anything up with you two.” He couldn’t look at Riordan anymore.
There was a short pause before Riordan spoke again. “Okay, look.” Jean looked back up at him, confused by the change in his tone. He didn’t understand it quite yet… “I’m just getting used to all of this, with Taylor. I mean, I’m getting better at it all, you know, being alright with… being with boys and all that.” Jean scoffed at that, because sometimes it was hard for Jean to remember Ri used to be a pretty homophobic jock. “And if anything’s going to mess it up, it sure won’t be you. We’ll be fine.” Riordan grinned, almost reassuring but with just a touch of cheek to it.
Jean chuckled a little bit at that, but he wasn’t completely reassured. “It’s more complicated than that.”
Riordan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is everythin’ alrigh’ with you?”
Jean couldn’t keep going with this. He couldn’t tell Riordan about how much his heart jumped up to his throat when he saw Riordan looking at him. And it wasn’t really possible to explain to him how inspired Riordan made him, a solid backbone that Jean had never had, a real friend that Jean hadn’t had since…
Before Jean knew what was happening, Riordan was in front of him, his hands resting on his hips. The space between them was suddenly so intimate. Jean recalled to mind the last time they had been this close without Taylor around; Jean had snuck out to the practice fields in the snow to watch Riordan. They had huddled together in the bleachers for thirty minutes before they both hurried inside so they didn’t die.
Jean could barely speak, so Riordan did a little talking instead. “You can trust me, Jean. I mean… you really can.”
The young artist, fumbling and confused, shook his head, unable to make eye contact with his… lover? Whatever Riordan was, he couldn’t look at him right now. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.” He was so close now, Jean could taste the breath between them, sweet and full of uncertainty. Or maybe that was just him. Ri seemed to have a pretty good head on his shoulders right now.
Jean took the biggest risk he could and tilted his head up to gaze right into Ri’s big eyes.
Waves of emotion passed through him. Anxiety, fear, surprise, fear again, anticipation, and then settling on just anxiety. Jean’s heart was beating against his ribs, and he was under a spell in Ri’s arms.
“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” It was the most amazing voice…
Jean took a deep breath, gaze still trapped by Riordan’s. “I-I haven’t felt this way for… but th-the last time I let this happen… I got my heart broken…”
Riordan didn’t seem to be following Jean’s attention deficit thought process. “…Are you falling for Taylor?”
Jean could almost laugh at how he said it, as if it wasn’t obvious. “God, it’s not just that… “ He couldn’t look away from Riordan again, and he was pretty sure that he had just said everything.
In an instant, their lips were touching, and Jean’s mind went blank. When it started back up again, Riordan was speaking in his ear. “You’ll be alright, Jean.” And as Jean fell into Riordan’s arms, letting him kiss him and hold him any way he wanted, Jean was accepting the facts of the situation. First of all, he was making out with Taylor’s boyfriend, but it was okay because if he could he’d be doing the same thing to Taylor (if that made any sense.) Secondly, Riordan had found a spot with his hands on Jean’s lower back that turned him to jelly.
Third, Jean was falling hard for Riordan McHaffey.
And he was hoping that this meant that the fourth would be that Riordan was falling for Jean.