c h a p t e r. 7

"The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal." -Camille Paglia

Just so you're all aware, Jazz has REALLY bad anxiety.

He's a very anxious person, he panic and overthinks a hella lot. As the book goes on and he learns ways to cope with that, it'll get better but I just wanted you guys to understand why he lowkey gets stuck in his head and is anxious almost every chapter.

chapter 7

"Fuck," Jazz quickly turns off the shower, his phone ringing Cas' usual tune. He fumbles to dry his hands, stepping out and onto the towel he previously put down before answering the call. "H-hey?"

"Hi," The celestial sounded lowkey frustrated. "I was a dumbass and locked myself out of the dorm and it's fucking cold out here. Can you let me in?"

"Course," Jazz nodded to himself, getting a small towel to quickly run through his hair. "Just give me a sec, I was in the shower."

Then, not thinking much, he ended the call and quickly wrapped a towel around his hips, hiding everything important. Shrugging to himself, he quickly goes out of the bathroom and runs a hand through his crazy, dripping wet curls going in front of his eyes.

Grimacing, he realizes that he probably looks like a drowned rat like this, but was also thankful that his body always ran hot enough that stepping out of showers and into the regular room temperatures never turned him into a popsicle.

Opening the door, he moves to the side to let Cas in, running a hand through his hair slightly as confusion overtakes him as the celestial just stares.

"Uh..." Jazz tilts his head at him, grabbing the towel to make sure it didn't fall in one hand but knowing it was also kinda dangerously low. "You okay?"

"You-- bit hot innit!-- don't have any clothes on?"

"Oh! Right!" The musician quickly turns around, stepping further into the dorm but a choking noise that Cas makes made him tense and look back at the now strawberry blushing boy. "Cas?"

"Ya?" He replies distractingly.

"Are you... are you checking me out?"

"Never would!" The celestial squeaks out, expression going into mortification as his hands come out into a 'oh no' gesture. "That was a tic, I'm sorry! Yeah-- bit hot innit!-- I was checking you out."

"Hm..." Seeing Cas shut the door but stayed by it, Jazz returned to his former position facing his roommate, stepping a bit closer, a tiny smile on his face. "You're okay with me answering the door like this?"

The celestial met his eyes, "Not with anyone else." Then pauses before saying, "You should change before I jump you."

Not that I'd mind, he thinks.

Jazz chuckles deeply as he flushes, one arm coming across his chest so he could grab onto his shoulder, "I don't understand how you just say stuff like that."

"How else am I going to flirt with you?" Cas asks, sounding a little amused by how the musician reacted.

His gaze snapped back to the celestial, mint meeting gray as his eyes widened.

"Flirting?" Jazz says. "I can, well I know I already have been, but I-I have permission to flirt with you?"

"Of course," Cas laughs as if he can't believe what the musician just said. "If I didn't want to be flirted with, I wouldn't have flirted at all."

"B-but I'm um..." Just jazz. Just his weird roommate. Just him. Just a little too much. "I'm me?"

Besides, Cas was attractive, pretty. Jazz was not.

"Exactly, you're you." The celestial edges all the more closer, warm fingers sending electricity racing through his veins as they caress his chest, his other hand daring to lightly hold onto the top of Jazz's towel. "And-- bit hot innit!-- that's my point."

Jazz takes a shaky breath, gulping as he reaches out to touch the celestial but thinks better of it-- he is so new to this type of thing, but also so needy, and doesn't want to mess up.

Especially when Cas is looking at him like that and saying such sweet words.

"Come on Jitterbug," Cas' hand moves up to hold his jaw, making the musician bend over so their faces are closer. He could see those freckles again, he could fully understand the playful look in his eyes, and he definitely wanted to kiss him; especially when he calls him that nickname. "You should know by now that I find you attractive."

Jazz doesn't realize he moved closer until Cas' back is against the wall, and in one swift movement, the celestial switches their positions and is the one pinning him-- the giant who gets all too happy about being manhandled-- to the wall instead.

His hands are pressed down by Cas', too, and he can't close the distance between them like he wants to, "Cas--"

"Wait, wait," The celestial instructs, making Jazz freeze against the wall, heart pounding all too fast for his chest and the sunflower green and rose leaves that fill the space between them are enticing enough that he almost misses what he says next, "Excited, are we?"

Excited? Of-fucking-course.

His crush is pinning him all too sexily against a wall, taking control of both of their bodies and is so close that they're sharing breathes, lips so close to brushing together that it's halfway to being a punishment.

Then Cas is pulling away and it's absolutely a punishment, a cruel one at that, that Jazz doesn't find out if he's as sweet as his song would suggest or as refreshing as the mint that overtakes his ethereal green sometimes.

"Ah, ah, ah," The celestial smirks, colors all too happy about this, as a growl passes his lips. "You should really do as I said, and go change."

The musician was a bottom, a submissive, but half the fun was pushing back and getting teased for it.

"You said go change before you jump me," Jazz replies. "And I really wouldn't mind that."

Keeping their eyes connected-- which really doesn't help with how overwhelming, in a good way, Cas' ethereal green is at the moment-- the celestial pulls Jazz down to his level, noses bumping slightly and the loosening grip on his jaw lets the musician know that if he doesn't want this, he could move away.

But god, does he want this. He wants to know what kissing someone that's more stardust and kindness and green than anyone else feels like. He wants to know how it feels for, just a moment, for his body to be loved by someone like Cas.

He finds out with a soft gasp escaping him as the celestial presses his lips against Jazz's. And fuck, they're just as soft as he hoped they would be.

He tastes like moonlight and hot chocolate and the feeling-- the warmth-- it's all safe. There's not a single thing about it that makes him feel like he doesn't deserve to make memories like this; nothing that makes him feel like he doesn't deserve to kiss pretty boys breathless against a wall.

Cas is sweet and maybe a little rough, but it feels good, and Jazz never wants it to end.

Because this is the celestial kissing him, and he's merely a man, and how is he supposed to not want to know what power and divinity and stars taste like?

How is he supposed to not like the way their mouths fit together like they fit-- and they do fit, lips against lips and bodies pressing together, hands grasping and touching and everything about this moment feels like forever.

Cas grip on his jaw shifts, getting tighter as Jazz's bottom lip is taken between his and bit down on hard enough to make heat shoot right down the musician's spine, a groan spilling from his mouth before he could stop it.

Not that he would, because who was he to deny the celestial from hearing how appreciative he is to be a man kissed by such a godly being?

Jazz's whole body warms up, and he thinks that this is what the creation of a star must feel like; so many feels exploding against each other, a ripple in the continuation of time, the start of something bright, the start of them.

"Fuck," Cas' growl is a tingle against his lips and it just makes Jazz melt into him all the more, the celestial's fingers gripping the back of his head and weaving into his hair to move them either closer.

Which, of course, the musician doesn't mind at all.

Because the music that Cas is making for him right now? Yeah, he'll want to hear that for the rest of his life.

Then, in what Jazz is pretty sure is a tic, Cas jerks away from him, mouth moving away from him and leaving him in a sudden cold, the star between them formed but still and waiting.

He doesn't mind it. He knows it's not something the celestial can control but fuck does he just want to be grabbed all over again and made breathless in a whole new way.

"Jasper." Cas says his name breathlessly and Jazz almost loses control, almost leans in for another kiss, almost doesn't register it behind the absolute daze that the celestial put him in.

Not trusting his words, the musician can only nod in reply, wondering if his lips were as kiss-bruised as the celestial's-- then those same bruised lips are pulling into a grin and Jazz knows his heart can't take much more, so Cas' next words are a mercy.

"Go change," His body and hands disappear from Jazz's body-- a pity, really, since he instantly misses the warmth-- but the celestial's hands are gently pushing the giant towards his bedroom.

Stumbling as he goes, he does just that.

***

"Jitterbug!" Cas calls him, startling the musician and making the stupid knife that he was holding-- him preparing their breakfast-- to slip and cut across the back of his hand. "Your phone is ringing!"

Jazz just stares down at his bleeding hand half-dazed though, trying really hard not to think about the bad memories that come along with the blood, and doesn't reply because he knows his voice will sound panicked and he doesn't want to worry the celestial until he can act like it's not a big deal.

"Jasper?" He calls him again, green flowing into the room as he gets closer, the sound bouncing around and helping him calm down slightly.

"Ah, can you answer please? I have to, urm, I broke something?" Jazz squirms in his spot, holding his bleeding hand over the sink and trying not to flinch as the drip, drip, drips of the blood ring up towards him in sickening yellow spirals.

"What'd you break?" The celestial growls slightly, phone still ringing in a canopy of purple. That's his oldest sister's, Nyx's, ringtone.

"Uh..." He looks down at the cut on his hand, feeling his pulse all the way down his arm and the stinging pain making his fingers twitch. "Myself?"

"What the fuck?" Cas quickly comes into the kitchen and Jazz watches as his whole song goes into a darker note, chartreuse and pine and sea green flashing around him and making his lightning-strike gray eyes all the more intense as they focus in on his bleeding extremity. "What'd you'd do? How deep is it?"

"Well, i-it's not bad?" He says hesitatingly.

Blood dripping down the side of his arm, a blade clutched between his fingers, sobs in the shade of lemon rinds staining the air as tears stained his cheeks.

The first act of not knowing how to ask for help but desperately needing it.

It's just a little cut. It's not that important, right? It's not like he's trying to kill himself. It doesn't matter that much, stop crying. What are you doing, freak, cleaning the world of sin?

The words his 'friends' used when they first saw the still-red scars against the inside of his wrists.

I'm scared. I don't want to be broken anymore. Please help me. Please, I don't know how to do it anymore. Please.

Going to his papa at fifteen-- knowing that Bar Red out of everyone else in his life will know how to save him-- and not relapsing again since. Not relapsing but still just as in pain as back then, not relapsing but still being hurt by people and things and even himself, not relapsing but not being able to escape his own mind.

Something cold is pressed onto Jazz's wound and he winces at the sharp pain, almost drawing back before he realizes that the celestial had grabbed a clean cloth and was holding it onto the wound, grumbling under his breath as he did so.

"Sorry," The musician awkwardly said this, his own hand coming up to keep it in place, feeling that the bleeding was already slowing. "I, I just need to bandage it. I'm used to it, it's okay. I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine," Cas says this harshly and it takes everything within Jazz not to flinch. "But it doesn't mean you're not in pain." This sentence is soon followed by his head ticing to the side, a growl dusting his ethereal green voice. "Why are you so clumsy?"

"It's hard for me to focus, mostly, and my feet don't listen to me," He mumbled softly. "I, um, I also get really jumpy? And sometimes I can't see. 'Cause of the, erm, because of my-- the sound."

"Synesthesia." Cas says this as if it wasn't weird and only grabs his arm-- somehow mindful of the cut but so close to his scars that Jazz can't help but to argue, so he does.

Tugging his arm, or at least trying to, closer to himself only results in the celestial tightening his grip and bringing it to his warm chest. The musician pouts and informs, "I-I can do it myself."

"I'm helping." This is sad with a half-glare towards their destination and out of practical arguments and half-way knowing he'll probably need help anyway just because his hands are shaking from anxiety, Jazz lets himself be pulled towards the bathroom.

He's sat on the edge of the bathtub and Cas frowns down at him.

"You have to be more careful."

"I get hurt all the time," Jazz tilts his head, slightly confused at his seemingly protective-- or is that just his hopeful thinking?-- reaction, but that just seems to make the celestial's anger worse. "I m-mean, I uh... I don't know what I mean. Sorry. It's just, urm, it doesn't matter that I got hurt?"

Well, saying that totally didn't help.

Cas' whole expression darkens and the musician looks up at him with wide eyes, trying to think about what to say to lessen the amount his roommate is upset but his mouth seems to have a mind of its own and runs away from his thoughts with a snicker, making him go into a stupid ramble.

"N-not that it doesn't matter at all, because getting injured obviously isn't healthy but it just happens a lot? So I'm used to it? And it's not like it's super bad! Like getting a concussion or someone breaking one of my bones again ! It's just a little cut. Not a little cut like a p-paper cut but, but like-- urm, what is it called? A shallow cut! Yeah, that! Easily solved. Honestly, the bruise on my hip hurts a lot worse than--"

"Your hip?" Cas snarls the words out and, for once, it's not due to a tic. "What happened to your hip?"

"Ah, well, uh," Jazz doesn't want to admit that he was clumsy enough to get a really nasty bruise between the time they saw each other in the morning-- they kissed, kissed! He doesn't know how the hell he isn't completely flipping out about that-- and from their morning classes to right now. "I got into a fight? With a bench?"

The celestial narrows his eyes, "Did you trip?"

"Um..." Jazz winces. "One of my friends thought that since I'm, well, y'know," he motions to his body then made a 'big' gesture with both his hands, "that it would be difficult for me to lose my balance or that I'd catch myself so he kinda just jumped on me? And I have depth perception issues so the thing I was supposed to catch myself on caught me but in a n-not happy way."

"Do a lot of your friends assume just because you're a giant that you're okay roughhousing with them?" The celestial seethes out, fists clenching over the first aid kit as he busies himself getting the bandages out and things to clean the wound with.

He hesitates in his answer because he doesn't want Cas to get any angrier with him, "Um, n-no?"

He knows by the instant shift is the celestial's song that he can tell it's a lie.

"That's bullshit, Jasper. They shouldn't treat you like that."

Jazz reaches out to do something, to calm him down maybe or to reassure him that he's fine, but then his roommate's lightning-strike gray eyes are looking at the scars on the bottom on his wrist-- flashing over to the right arm that he's too slow to hide to confirm that what he's seeing is indeed not a figment of his imagination, or maybe it was a hope that the scars were somehow lying to him.

But there's nothing he can do to take back the knowledge.

Nothing he can say to make Cas understand.

Nothing to show that would cause him to seem any less broken.

So he just watches Cas react instead of saying anything. The anger in his eyes is slow to fade but the concern in them only grows.

"Sorry," Jazz apologizes, looking down and tucking his arms into his sides like how he usually has them-- to hide his scars again. "I know they're ugly."

"They're not ugly," The celestial says this verbatimly, his eyes and song a dance of colors Jazz can't quite understand, can't make sense of. Can't tell if he honestly believes what he's saying but his eyes? They're saying, I understand.

Then his lips are on his skin, pressing a soft kiss into his scars.

Not judging. Not disgusted.

Cas is just, just gentle. He's always gentle towards the musician. It's nice.

So many people see him and forget to be soft, forget that even men like him aren't always tough, that men like him can be hurt and be sensitive and feel, too. But Cas never forgets that.

"I," He swallows deeply, seeing a flash of basil and moss amongst the sea green worry. "I'm okay now, Cas. It's... I don't-- I'm safe. I struggle but I'm safe."

"Will you--" He's interrupted with a growl, but doesn't look any less determined due to his tic. "Will you tell me if you're not?"

Jazz nods because well-- trust is not a thing he has to question in regards to the celestial.

"Okay," Cas thankfully accepts the nod, not pressuring for more. "Now lets just that cut taken care of."

"Oh, right! You wanted to bandage it," Jazz mumbled, handing his hand back to the protective man.

"What do you mean I want to bandage it," Cas asks, frowning down as he cleans the wound, slightly rough fingers making his skin tingle. "Would you otherwise not bandage it up?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugs the best he can. "I usually just let injuries run their course, or um, not if they could be life threatening? Then I usually tell someone?"

"Usually?"

"Mhm, like I've had so many concussions that I'm just like, what's a little more brain damage? And move on," The musician explains.

The celestial looked him right in the eye and said, "That's stupid." in such a deadpan voice that Jazz couldn't help but to burst out laughing, eyes crinkling and he dimples popping into life as he chuckles, a smile beaming up at Cas.

Together, they get Jazz's injury taken care of and the musician quickly makes his way back to his phone to see who called.

It was Lucifer's Bitch, aka his oldest sister Nyx (since she was Damien's bae, the 'devil' of his old town) and along with the missed call was a multitude of text messages.

Lucifer's Bitch

1:24 PM

Hey, dipshit, you okay? You didn't answer.

Yo, Jazz, are you already on your way? Is that why you aren't replying

1:36 PM

Little bitch

Answer me

Me

1:41 PM

Calm your shit down Nyx

and go bother Lucifer Reincarnate or something

he deserves it more than me

who's all gonna be there?

Also, omw

Jazz sighed and excited out of the message after replying, going to Eris' texts next.

Angel Bitch

1:29 PM

Nyx is flipping her shit cause you forgot national sibling day

Text her back??? Also bring your butterfly

Vivi snitched on you, sorry

Me

1:42 PM

I hate all of you and fuck off

Maybe

The Lesbian™

1:39 PM

I'm your twin, you better answer me, bitch

Or am I not your favorite anymore???

Fucking betrayal, bro

Me

1:42

You've never been my favorite.

And??? what betrayal other than looking like THAT

and daring to turn me blind

Pursing his lips at Dela's text, he turns to Cas with a raised eyebrow-- a blush dusting his cheeks when he finds the celestial already looking at him-- and asks, "Do you want to go with me to meet my siblings? I forgot it was national siblings day and they are all taking a bus there so I was supposed to leave to pick them up and spaced the whole thing. I even woke up early and took a shower too-- oh! It's your fault! You turned my brain to mush by kissing me. Shameful-- so, like, yeah? Are you okay with going with me?"

"How many siblings are we talking?"

"Three-- Nyx, Eris, and Dela."

Cas shrugs, "Then sure, but on one condition."

"Which is?"

"Well," He smirks. "I get to turn that brain of yours to mush at least one more time tonight."

"I-I, um, I," Jazz flushes deeply, both hands coming up to hide his cheeks. "Yes, p-please?"

The celestial's smirk widens and, thankfully, the moss of anger completely disappears under a canopy of sunflowers.

Jazz likes his sunflowers and rose leaves and his seafoam happiness much better than his frustrated chartreuse and basil of fear. Sunflowers are becoming his favorite kind of happiness to observe.