Parenting!AU -- The Morning After
Because my brain insisted, here's more of before Jazz and Devin ended up as parents, Parenting!AU backstory. Because of course there is aftermath to Jazz and Wes's One Night Stand
Previous piece: One Night
Jazz groaned, turning over in his bed so he could move away from the light. It had to be fairly late in the morning -- maybe even early afternoon. He’d probably fallen asleep sometime after six that morning, after the molly had finally started to wind its way out of his system -- along with his nerves over seeing Devin again after, after --
“Oh my god,” he moaned out loud, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck, I’m an idiot.”
“Kinda are, yeah,” he heard coming from his left. Jazz felt his face burn, and he curled himself up into an even tighter ball under his blanket, knowing damn well the tips of his ears had to be red, as well. “Should’ve known I’d come home, dude.”
“You -- you said you were visiting family,” Jazz whispered, just loud enough that he knew Devin’s bat-like ears would pick up his words. “I thought…”
Devin sighed, and Jazz heard his mattress groan in protest at his movements. “Was visiting my dad, yeah. It didn’t… go too good,” Devin said, his own voice quiet. “Came home instead of dealing with his fucking shit.”
Jazz nodded. Slowly, he turned away from the wall and looked out over at Devin. The other boy was sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, his eyes focused on his phone. “I’m sorry,” Jazz said. “I didn’t -- if I had realized that was, that he was your Wes…”
Devin laughed, the sound lacking humor. “Wes said the same thing -- said if he’d realized it was you, he wouldn’t’ve fucked you. Don’t know fucking why, don’t care who either of you fuck, just…” Devin’s face reddened, and he kept his gaze locked on his phone. “Wasn’t expecting -- to see that when I got home…”
Jazz’s whole body burned, reacting to the way Devin’s voice rose in pitch at the word “that.” He couldn’t help but notice the way Devin shifted his legs; how his hands moved lower as if to hide his lap. “I’ve been -- caught in worse positions,” Jazz managed, licking his lips. He shivered a little, sitting upright himself and bringing his knees to his chest, resting his back against the wall. “My mom, she --”
He stopped himself, unsure whether he should continue. He hadn’t spoken about his mother much with Devin before -- but Devin never talked much about his family, either. Maybe now it was time.
“I was on top of the guy,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “I was riding him, reverse cowgirl style, so she -- she saw everything. The guy’d gagged me, too, to try and help me stay quiet? So she wouldn’t hear us? But --” Devin’s face was damn near purple, now, and Jazz definitely noticed the way Devin moved again, as if to get more comfortable. “I don’t know, all I remember is her wrenching me off of him and her manhandling him, naked, out of my room. I had to throw him his clothes through the window after she escorted him to his car.”
He also remembered how she had grabbed him, shortly after, and threw him out on the street without his keys or his wallet, though luckily he’d had his phone. At seventeen, he was almost of age, but --
Devin looked up at him then, his face resuming something close to its normal, beautifully tanned hue. “Didn’t even let him get dressed, first?” he asked, sounding vaguely horrified.
Jazz snorted and shook his head. “She threatened to call the cops on him if he didn’t leave, as he was clearly raping me.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around his knees. “She kicked me out, too, when she realized I’d wanted to have sex with him and had done so multiple times before that.”
He didn’t lift his eyes to see the look Devin must’ve been giving him now, and instead thanked himself for at least having the decency to put his boxers back on last night, after Wes had left, as he pushed himself out of his bed and walked into the bathroom. When he stepped back out a couple of moments later, Devin had his computer in his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“Hey, Devin?” Jazz started, clearing his throat to help nudge Devin’s attention back in his direction. “I didn’t -- hurt Wes’s feelings last night, did I? He seems like a good guy and all, but -- I told him I didn’t… intend for last night to be a thing that happened again.”
“Huh?” Devin looked up at Jazz, his brow furrowed. Just as Jazz was about to repeat his question, Devin’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, dude. Didn’t hurt Wes’s feelings at all, telling him that.” He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to unsee something. “Y’know, knew Wes partied and all, but I didn’t think --” His face turned red again. “Didn’t know he took people home with him.”
Jazz blinked, then smiled a little at that as he sat down on the edge of his bed, scooping his shirt from the night before off the floor and slipping it over his head. “Well, last night was definitely not the first time he’d done that.” He shivered a little, recalling the way Wes’s body had felt underneath, on top of, and behind him. “He told me last night that he usually takes partners back to his place, because uh -- interruptions were less likely.”
He stopped himself from saying that Wes had seemed more than willing to fuck him in the hallway, too, where everyone could see. Wes obviously didn’t fully care about interruptions, as long as those interruptions weren’t Devin-shaped. Jazz had a feeling that if his roommate had been anyone else but Devin, Wes would’ve finished out the night with him.
“I guess it’s weird for you, thinking of Wes having sex, huh?” Jazz asked after a moment, reclining back against his pillows.
Devin made an odd, high pitched noise, and hid behind his hair. “Kinda fucking is, yeah,” he said, his voice oddly tight.
Jazz couldn’t help smiling at that. He wanted to tease Devin, point out yet again that maybe, just maybe, he had a crush on his childhood best friend. But he kept those comments to himself. Maybe he could tease Devin in a different way… “He’s really big, you know. I don’t know if you noticed, last night.”
Devin made another one of those noises and shifted positions on his bed so that he wasn’t really facing Jazz anymore. He dipped his head, though Jazz could see Devin’s blush through his curtain of long, shimmering hair. “Didn’t,” Devin managed after a moment.
Jazz grinned, and resisted the urge to keep going. If Devin was this uncomfortable now, Jazz didn’t want to push it. Instead, he lay back down on his bed and placed his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Clearing his throat after a moment, he said: “What happened at your dad’s last night? You got home at what, two in the morning? Why come home so late?”
“Three,” Devin answered, his voice having resumed its normal pitch. “Just… don’t always get along with my dad. ‘Sbetter than my ma, but…” Devin sighed and stretched, his long limbs extending past the edge of his bed as he set his computer down on the nightstand the two of them shared. He lied down, too, resting on his side and facing Jazz, though his eyes were pointed at the floor. “Wasn’t really my dad I was upset with, anyway, but -- my half-brother…”
Jazz turned onto his side, too, facing Devin. He gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, whatever they said or did, they’re wrong,” he said. This was the most Devin had ever spoken about his family -- he wasn’t about to push too hard. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about it, just -- did you tell Wes, at least?”
Devin shook his head. “Talked about you and him, mostly,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting Jazz’s again. His cheeks turned pink as his eyes landed on the trash can by Jazz’s bed. “How many times…?”
Jazz felt his own face flush, his gaze following Devin’s and seeing the condoms that were in plain sight. “We um -- you interrupted us on the third round,” he squeaked, covering part of his face with his hand. “We were on e.”
“Mm.” Devin closed his eyes, and Jazz wished he could reach across the small space between their beds and brush his fingers against Devin’s cheek. “That mean you’re gonna get fucking weird in a couple of days?”
“Probably, yeah,” Jazz said, giving Devin a sheepish smile. “I’ll be okay, though. You won’t have to worry about me, mate.”
Devin’s eyes remained closed, but his brow furrowed a little bit at Jazz’s words. “Don’t get why you do that stuff,” he said after a while, turning onto his back and folding his hands over his stomach. “Doesn’t seem worth it.”
Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s a lot of fun when you’re on it -- even though the crash does suck a few days later,” he said. “There are supposedly ways to help make the crash less awful but I haven’t really looked into it.”
“Could ask Wes,” Devin said with a snort. “Sounds like the kind of thing he’d fucking know.”
Jazz felt his face flush a little with that. “I didn’t even get his number, mate. It’d be kinda hard to ask him,” he said. He squirmed a little, trying not to think of the way Wes’s eyes had hardened last night, after Jazz had said he didn’t do relationships. “Even if I did have his number, I’m not sure he would wanna tell me how to deal with the crash?”
Devin snorted again and turned his head towards Jazz, grinning at him as he shook his head. “‘Sfucking Wes, dude. Likes helping everybody.”
Jazz blinked at that, then turned onto his back again. His stomach grumbled, and he closed his eyes. He should probably eat, soon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had. “Sounds like it,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. Slowly, he pushed himself upright. “Hey, d’you want anything to eat? I could make us breakfast?” He scooped up his shorts from the night before, then thought better of them as he realized how short they were. “Or we could go get something at Pop’s?”
Getting breakfast with your dormmate was a normal thing to suggest, right? Just to hang out and talk some more? Jazz didn’t look over at Devin as he started rummaging through his drawers for a pair of jeans and shimmied his way into them. In all the times he asked if Devin wanted to go with him to Pop’s, Devin had said no.
“Would like to, but...” Devin said, and Jazz’s heart skipped a beat. “Just…don’t know if I’ve got enough.”
“I can cover you,” Jazz said, hoping he didn’t sound too excited at the prospect of Devin going out to breakfast -- brunch? -- with him. “I have some extra cash.” He also had work that night, and even on his bad nights, he tips he made were more than enough to cover the cost of room and board and his textbooks. He glanced down at his shirt. “Does this look okay?”
Devin blinked, studied Jazz for a moment before nodding. “Gimme a sec,” he said, pushing himself out of his bed. He then grabbed his own clothes and headed towards their shared bathroom. “Gotta shower, ‘kay?”
Jazz smiled a little at that, sitting back down on his bed and picking up his phone. “Sure thing, mate.”
Previous piece: One Night
Jazz groaned, turning over in his bed so he could move away from the light. It had to be fairly late in the morning -- maybe even early afternoon. He’d probably fallen asleep sometime after six that morning, after the molly had finally started to wind its way out of his system -- along with his nerves over seeing Devin again after, after --
“Oh my god,” he moaned out loud, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck, I’m an idiot.”
“Kinda are, yeah,” he heard coming from his left. Jazz felt his face burn, and he curled himself up into an even tighter ball under his blanket, knowing damn well the tips of his ears had to be red, as well. “Should’ve known I’d come home, dude.”
“You -- you said you were visiting family,” Jazz whispered, just loud enough that he knew Devin’s bat-like ears would pick up his words. “I thought…”
Devin sighed, and Jazz heard his mattress groan in protest at his movements. “Was visiting my dad, yeah. It didn’t… go too good,” Devin said, his own voice quiet. “Came home instead of dealing with his fucking shit.”
Jazz nodded. Slowly, he turned away from the wall and looked out over at Devin. The other boy was sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, his eyes focused on his phone. “I’m sorry,” Jazz said. “I didn’t -- if I had realized that was, that he was your Wes…”
Devin laughed, the sound lacking humor. “Wes said the same thing -- said if he’d realized it was you, he wouldn’t’ve fucked you. Don’t know fucking why, don’t care who either of you fuck, just…” Devin’s face reddened, and he kept his gaze locked on his phone. “Wasn’t expecting -- to see that when I got home…”
Jazz’s whole body burned, reacting to the way Devin’s voice rose in pitch at the word “that.” He couldn’t help but notice the way Devin shifted his legs; how his hands moved lower as if to hide his lap. “I’ve been -- caught in worse positions,” Jazz managed, licking his lips. He shivered a little, sitting upright himself and bringing his knees to his chest, resting his back against the wall. “My mom, she --”
He stopped himself, unsure whether he should continue. He hadn’t spoken about his mother much with Devin before -- but Devin never talked much about his family, either. Maybe now it was time.
“I was on top of the guy,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “I was riding him, reverse cowgirl style, so she -- she saw everything. The guy’d gagged me, too, to try and help me stay quiet? So she wouldn’t hear us? But --” Devin’s face was damn near purple, now, and Jazz definitely noticed the way Devin moved again, as if to get more comfortable. “I don’t know, all I remember is her wrenching me off of him and her manhandling him, naked, out of my room. I had to throw him his clothes through the window after she escorted him to his car.”
He also remembered how she had grabbed him, shortly after, and threw him out on the street without his keys or his wallet, though luckily he’d had his phone. At seventeen, he was almost of age, but --
Devin looked up at him then, his face resuming something close to its normal, beautifully tanned hue. “Didn’t even let him get dressed, first?” he asked, sounding vaguely horrified.
Jazz snorted and shook his head. “She threatened to call the cops on him if he didn’t leave, as he was clearly raping me.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around his knees. “She kicked me out, too, when she realized I’d wanted to have sex with him and had done so multiple times before that.”
He didn’t lift his eyes to see the look Devin must’ve been giving him now, and instead thanked himself for at least having the decency to put his boxers back on last night, after Wes had left, as he pushed himself out of his bed and walked into the bathroom. When he stepped back out a couple of moments later, Devin had his computer in his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“Hey, Devin?” Jazz started, clearing his throat to help nudge Devin’s attention back in his direction. “I didn’t -- hurt Wes’s feelings last night, did I? He seems like a good guy and all, but -- I told him I didn’t… intend for last night to be a thing that happened again.”
“Huh?” Devin looked up at Jazz, his brow furrowed. Just as Jazz was about to repeat his question, Devin’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, dude. Didn’t hurt Wes’s feelings at all, telling him that.” He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if trying to unsee something. “Y’know, knew Wes partied and all, but I didn’t think --” His face turned red again. “Didn’t know he took people home with him.”
Jazz blinked, then smiled a little at that as he sat down on the edge of his bed, scooping his shirt from the night before off the floor and slipping it over his head. “Well, last night was definitely not the first time he’d done that.” He shivered a little, recalling the way Wes’s body had felt underneath, on top of, and behind him. “He told me last night that he usually takes partners back to his place, because uh -- interruptions were less likely.”
He stopped himself from saying that Wes had seemed more than willing to fuck him in the hallway, too, where everyone could see. Wes obviously didn’t fully care about interruptions, as long as those interruptions weren’t Devin-shaped. Jazz had a feeling that if his roommate had been anyone else but Devin, Wes would’ve finished out the night with him.
“I guess it’s weird for you, thinking of Wes having sex, huh?” Jazz asked after a moment, reclining back against his pillows.
Devin made an odd, high pitched noise, and hid behind his hair. “Kinda fucking is, yeah,” he said, his voice oddly tight.
Jazz couldn’t help smiling at that. He wanted to tease Devin, point out yet again that maybe, just maybe, he had a crush on his childhood best friend. But he kept those comments to himself. Maybe he could tease Devin in a different way… “He’s really big, you know. I don’t know if you noticed, last night.”
Devin made another one of those noises and shifted positions on his bed so that he wasn’t really facing Jazz anymore. He dipped his head, though Jazz could see Devin’s blush through his curtain of long, shimmering hair. “Didn’t,” Devin managed after a moment.
Jazz grinned, and resisted the urge to keep going. If Devin was this uncomfortable now, Jazz didn’t want to push it. Instead, he lay back down on his bed and placed his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Clearing his throat after a moment, he said: “What happened at your dad’s last night? You got home at what, two in the morning? Why come home so late?”
“Three,” Devin answered, his voice having resumed its normal pitch. “Just… don’t always get along with my dad. ‘Sbetter than my ma, but…” Devin sighed and stretched, his long limbs extending past the edge of his bed as he set his computer down on the nightstand the two of them shared. He lied down, too, resting on his side and facing Jazz, though his eyes were pointed at the floor. “Wasn’t really my dad I was upset with, anyway, but -- my half-brother…”
Jazz turned onto his side, too, facing Devin. He gave him a sympathetic look. “Well, whatever they said or did, they’re wrong,” he said. This was the most Devin had ever spoken about his family -- he wasn’t about to push too hard. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about it, just -- did you tell Wes, at least?”
Devin shook his head. “Talked about you and him, mostly,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting Jazz’s again. His cheeks turned pink as his eyes landed on the trash can by Jazz’s bed. “How many times…?”
Jazz felt his own face flush, his gaze following Devin’s and seeing the condoms that were in plain sight. “We um -- you interrupted us on the third round,” he squeaked, covering part of his face with his hand. “We were on e.”
“Mm.” Devin closed his eyes, and Jazz wished he could reach across the small space between their beds and brush his fingers against Devin’s cheek. “That mean you’re gonna get fucking weird in a couple of days?”
“Probably, yeah,” Jazz said, giving Devin a sheepish smile. “I’ll be okay, though. You won’t have to worry about me, mate.”
Devin’s eyes remained closed, but his brow furrowed a little bit at Jazz’s words. “Don’t get why you do that stuff,” he said after a while, turning onto his back and folding his hands over his stomach. “Doesn’t seem worth it.”
Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s a lot of fun when you’re on it -- even though the crash does suck a few days later,” he said. “There are supposedly ways to help make the crash less awful but I haven’t really looked into it.”
“Could ask Wes,” Devin said with a snort. “Sounds like the kind of thing he’d fucking know.”
Jazz felt his face flush a little with that. “I didn’t even get his number, mate. It’d be kinda hard to ask him,” he said. He squirmed a little, trying not to think of the way Wes’s eyes had hardened last night, after Jazz had said he didn’t do relationships. “Even if I did have his number, I’m not sure he would wanna tell me how to deal with the crash?”
Devin snorted again and turned his head towards Jazz, grinning at him as he shook his head. “‘Sfucking Wes, dude. Likes helping everybody.”
Jazz blinked at that, then turned onto his back again. His stomach grumbled, and he closed his eyes. He should probably eat, soon. He couldn’t remember the last time he had. “Sounds like it,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. Slowly, he pushed himself upright. “Hey, d’you want anything to eat? I could make us breakfast?” He scooped up his shorts from the night before, then thought better of them as he realized how short they were. “Or we could go get something at Pop’s?”
Getting breakfast with your dormmate was a normal thing to suggest, right? Just to hang out and talk some more? Jazz didn’t look over at Devin as he started rummaging through his drawers for a pair of jeans and shimmied his way into them. In all the times he asked if Devin wanted to go with him to Pop’s, Devin had said no.
“Would like to, but...” Devin said, and Jazz’s heart skipped a beat. “Just…don’t know if I’ve got enough.”
“I can cover you,” Jazz said, hoping he didn’t sound too excited at the prospect of Devin going out to breakfast -- brunch? -- with him. “I have some extra cash.” He also had work that night, and even on his bad nights, he tips he made were more than enough to cover the cost of room and board and his textbooks. He glanced down at his shirt. “Does this look okay?”
Devin blinked, studied Jazz for a moment before nodding. “Gimme a sec,” he said, pushing himself out of his bed. He then grabbed his own clothes and headed towards their shared bathroom. “Gotta shower, ‘kay?”
Jazz smiled a little at that, sitting back down on his bed and picking up his phone. “Sure thing, mate.”