c h a p t e r. 10

"There is only what you want and what happens. There is only grabbing on and holding tight in the darkness." ― Lauren Oliver

I wish you all never experience the torture of writing awkward scenes with your sister. Like, it's nice and all to have a writing buddy but sometimes just... no.

chapter 10

The moment Jazz stepped into their dorm, he could tell everything was just wrong. He didn't have to look, he could feel the change. The way the sound bounced, the way the soft radio's jittery tune was distorted, the constant buzz from the lamp; all gone or moved.

Everything was moved.

And it made Cas frantic.

Jazz was already starting to pick things and put them back to how it was, his people awkwardly standing in the living room not sure what exactly was wrong but knowledgeable in the fact that the people who usually lived in the space felt unfamiliar in it.

There was swearing, an odd growl here or there, no rose leaves or sunflowers or seafoam in sight as the celestial dug through his room for something-- a harsh crash! making Jazz, Eris and Nyx jump at the sound.

None of them could even ask what happened before an angry and ticing Cas was rushing past them and into the bathroom, the slamming open of drawers and cabinet doors making the Red and D'Silvettas share concerned glances.

Atlas just smirked like he knew something.

And, well, apparently he did know something because then Cas is storming past them for a second time, shouting, "Sawyer!" at the top of his lungs before-- literally--shoving him into their bookshelf.

"Where is it?"

These words are a warning from the celestial's mouth and nothing else.

And it triggers Jazz.

It triggers his dark thoughts all over again.

Grab him. Hurt him. Make him get away from what's yours.

Cas isn't mine.

Make him bleed.

That'd go too far.

Make him regret even looking at you. Make him regret it. Make him--

I can't--

Liar, they snarl. You want to. Stop lying. Stop pretending. Just show him. Show him not to act that way.

Show him that there are worse things to be than spiteful, show him that there are worse things than being angry, show him that you are one of those things.

The ache in his knuckles as they sparked against a cheekbone, the throb in his hands and the odd click in his ankle as his leg struck out, the way cries stained the air red and blood did the same to the ground.

The way he can't forgive himself.

The reason he's scary.

Scary? His thoughts cackle. Don't show him you're scary. Show him that you're terrifying. Show him that there's reasons people stay away from you.

Show him that anger you like to keep away.

Show him that you're not afraid of blood or bones or screams.

Show him that you know what it takes to make a man like him cry and show him how to do it without mercy. Show him not to touch Cas. Show him in a way you've shown them all before. Show them that you're not someone to be messed with.

Show him how you take off the mask and the monster underneath it.

I'm not a monster, he tells himself, but his thoughts twist it into, That's all I'll ever be.

Make him hurt the way you've been hurt, show him how well you've learned from the pain.

Show him that.

Show him.

Show him.

Show him!

SHOW HIM--

"Jazz," Nyx grabs his arm and he almost-- almost but doesn't-- throws her off. "You're okay. Deep breaths, okay? Those thoughts aren't you."

Dela might be his twin, but Nyx and him, they've always understood each other.

They had that darker, crueler part of themselves that their siblings didn't possess. Always understood that, through all that darkness, through all that anger, they were terrified of themselves.

And she pulled him from his thoughts, which he was more than grateful for, because when Atlas that the musician doesn't quite catch then shoves Cas' chest hard enough that the celestial falls back against the hallway wall's corner-- well, Jazz doesn't go nuts and do something that would probably take both D'Silvetta brothers and Nyx to snap him out of, but he's pretty damn close.

You let this happen, his mind snarls as Cas' ethereal greens spazz in a flash of deep cyan pain. You let this happen to him! How could you do that? How could you do that? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?

HE'S HURT.

YOU HURT HIM.

YOU HURT HIM!

YOU HURT HIM! YOU HURT HIM- YOUHURTHIMYOUHURTHIMYOUHURTHIMYOUHURT--

People are talking, but it doesn't register, then Nyx is suddenly moving away from him and-- no, no, don't leave him alone, don't leave him in these thoughts all by himself, don't leave him in his own mind-- and then Atlas is being shoved against the shelf by her, face smushed into the books as a groan of pain leaves him.

Jazz isn't sure what happens next; Damien is now pinning the douchebag but Cas is in his arms-- when did that happen?-- and Eris is standing next to them, Dela closest to the pinned man and Nyx's grump while the two D'Silvettas are between them.

It's... they're protecting Cas.

That's what you should have done in the first place, the thoughts sneer.

"Wait-" The celestia squeaks out, trying to leave his arms but that's not safe. He has to stay safe. He has to. "-wait. He just, he just does that- -mother duckling- -sometimes. And just, stop!"

But he moves anyway. Jazz isn't enough to make him stay safe-- so he follows his celestial like a worshipper, hands on his hips and bodies close together that it's almost enough.

Almost. But doesn't stop the snarl his mind gives out. Almost. But doesn't stop the anger in his heart from clawing at the surface. Almost. But doesn't help the sudden ice that's in his throat, does not help him breathe.

Almost. But isn't.

"Let him go," Cas orders, half-glaring right at Jazz's older sisters and Damien.

"Fuck!" Nyx hisses, tightening her hold as her mint eyes darken in clear frustration. "I'm trying to be nice, too."

Nyx... struggled being nice, sometimes. She was always, always kind, but nice wasn't her forte. She was getting better but in a situation like this, Jazz knew that that anger inside of her was a struggle to push down, to choose the other choice over.

Being good isn't always easy. Being good takes restraint, takes practice.

It takes more than just a kind heart; it takes a willingness, too.

Nyx looks at Cas, really looks at him in that way where she can tell everything about someone that Jazz-- even with his literally reading people's emotions as colors-- can't. Then the siblings' matching eyes meet and she sighs and scowls, dark blue song going into a starry night as she clearly doesn't want to let the douchebag off just like that but is going to anyway.

Tugging on Damien's arm, Nyx gets him to drop his hold and step away from Atlas.

"Prick," Cas growls over at his brother who only shoves him again in reply and moves to stand more towards the living room's center-- Eris and Viv tense as they're left on the opposite side of him than everyone else.

Jazz tenses too, Nyx taking a step forward as Axel and Damien get into a fighting stance, one watching their sister as the other watches the douchebag, waiting for any signs that he might reach out to strike.

He beats on his own brother. Insults him. Makes him tic on purpose. Disrespects both his and the musician's home by moving everything around.

Who's to say he wouldn't try to hurt the girls?

Who's to say that he has no boundaries when it comes to violence?

...who's to say you don't either?

Shut up!

"I had that under control." Atlas just huffs, the Red and D'Silvettas watching him silently and carefully, not wanting to trigger his anger if he's someone like that when two of their own aren't in the usual spots, aren't in the circle of protection.

"I'm sure you could take all of them at once." Cas snorts right back, but Jazz sees how his eyes take in his sister and best friend away from them, grateful as they narrow and his song clicks into something of understanding.

Cas moves his hand out but neither of the girls are the first to react, Damien takes an instinctual step forward, Nyx soon following as they watch their respective sister, understanding that the celestial was wanting them to come over.

But if they tried to move past Atlas when he was angry, would he grab one of them?

Jazz didn't like it. Jazz didn't like it at all.

He wanted to--

No. No. NO.

He didn't want that. He didn't want to avoid his loved ones getting hurt by hurting someone else's loved one.

The weirdo is the first one to take the risk and shoots under Atlas's outstretched arm to grab onto Cas', Eris bolting around the douchebag a couple seconds later too, both of them by Cas but Viv moving closer towards Axel while the fake goodie-goodie relaxes as Jazz briefly moves his hand to squeeze her shoulder comfortably.

"He really, seriously, wouldn't hurt you." The celestial informs them, frowning as a growl parts his words. "Sawyer's a prick but he respects you."

Eris is the one who nods, but Jazz knows they're all thinking the same thing: that they weren't going to take that chance.

Cas turns to Atlas now, his hands briefly hovering over Jazz's-- who doesn't move his own from the celestial's waist in fear those dark thoughts will turn all the more rabid-- and instead chooses to cross his arms over his chest and sighs out, "Give it back, now."

Rolling his eyes, Atlas digs in his pocket and pulls out what looks like dog tags? And asks, "Isn't a bit childish you still wear this?"

Isn't it a bit childish to be that much of a fucking asshole?

Aren't people supposed to go into but also leave that phase back in middle school?

Getting tossed his necklace, the celestial's song instantly shifts into relief, a soft sage and a mellow chartreuse overtaking the basil and deep cyan as he tucks it back over his head and moves it to rest under his shirt.

Then his colors are turning to all kinds of chaotic viridans and the song gets so loud it almost hurts and when Jazz looks down from his dancing ethereal greens, Cas' lightning-strike gray eyes are frantically looking around their dorm.

My brain freaks out if things aren't in the right place or messy, Cas had told him not too long after they first met, ticing as he did so, blood gone from his face but it was still a pretty shade of red. He had been organizing everything too back then.

Right. Cas' probably freaking out so much on the inside-- his colors and song were too. He should help.

If you can, his mind snickers. You know you'll just hurt him.

"Wait," Jazz says, hopefully getting the celestial to focus on him instead of the dorm if only for a moment, pulling up his phone then going to the album in his photos app labeled 'home'. "See! I took pictures of how everything's supposed to be! I'm, well, you know I'm clumsy? I bump into things a lot. And always try to put them back when they move. So I can help!"

In all honesty, he just had been really nervous and wanted to make sure not to make Cas' life any harder, so he prepared for moments like this-- not exactly like this, but ones where things just got... messy.

The celestial's jaw drops, eyes dubiously scanning the messed up shelves, notes in the shade of oak leaves and disbelief staining the air around him as he asks, "A-are you sure?"

Because it's the complete truth, Jazz nods and says, "I want to."

Then the celestial is going the shade of shamrock and emeralds and the musician has no idea what the could mean, and too afraid to ask or mess up even more than he already has, adds, "Plus Eris and Damien like organizing, we can get it done fast, without bothering you more."

Clearly hesitating but still that those beautiful, new green, Cas gulps. "I accidentally knocked my desk over looking for my necklace."

"You can go in my room," Jazz shrugs-- no pause in doing whatever he could to help the celestial's mind in not freaking out. He knows the feeling and it's not fun. "I don't mind."

The celestial agrees, and before Jazz can fully process anything, the reorganizing is already in action while Atlas was a dickhead and just laid down on the couch (Viv totally didn't drop a book onto his face).

Jazz sent the photos of how everything's supposed to be to all of his people's phones, them not questioning why it was so important but helping anyway-- which the musician is thankful for.

Not a lot of people who ignore their curiosity like that.

Jazz focuses on the little trinkets over the bookshelves, having seen them the most and would be able to see if anything was wrong against the odd array of books.

Dela kicks Atlas off the couch after she got done with reorganizing the kitchen with Eris by threatening to ruin his chance at every procreating more than he already has and they all ignore him as he goes into Cas' room-- Nyx and Axel threatening him not to mess up it since they just helped put the desk back together.

Damien reorganized the nicknacks that go on the coffee tables while Viv focused on making sure the books and furniture got where they needed to be.

Overall, the work wasn't too hard, and they had some really good playful conversations that helped bring down the tension-- and the bad thoughts. Unfortunately, though, when Jazz got focused on one thing, he ended up focusing way too hard and this is one of those times, so he didn't even notice the atmosphere or the people around him changing until the douchebag is coming back out of Cas' room.

Glaring at Atlas as he walks through the living room and towards the kitchen, Jazz almost chokes on his own spit as the celestial steps out of the kitchen-- first, when did he get in there, second, what is he wearing?

Jazz can't even focus on what the douchebag said because, well, the celestial was wearing his sweatshirt. His sweatshirt! And he looked fucking adorable in it, the sleeves way too big and the whole thing really drowning him underneath it.

Oh. holy hell.

Jazz definitely wants a picture.

Or maybe Cas could always just walk around in his clothes?

That would work too. That would definitely work too.

The celestial says something, Jazz is sure of it, because his soft lips-- he doesn't have to wonder anymore, he knows that they're soft-- are moving, gray eyes quizzical as they briefly move away from him before focusing back, "Are you okay?"

Okay? Was he okay? He was more than okay.

He could fucking die happy now, that's it. Just kill him. He's accomplished enough.

He's been flirted with by a God. He's kissed that same God. He's gotten the God to wear his clothes without even doing anything.

Dead.

Completely.

"Ignore him, he's probably having a stroke," Dela is pushing against the bottom of his jaw and not even caring how red he was, Jazz closed his mouth and continued to stare-- because how could he not? "Thanks for making dinner."

Cas nods at her question, "There's oranges."

"Fuck yes." Nyx grins. Jazz would be happy about the oranges too, but honestly all he could think about tasting is the celestial.

It takes a second to follow them and put all his marbles back into his head, but Jazz follows his siblings as they quickly make their way into the kitchen, each grabbing an orange or two before piling onto the kitchen's floor, talking about nothing but everything at once.

It's a habit that started with their Goddess Mama.

She loves oranges-- which the musician always found funny because her name was Clementine-- but hated peeling them and typically always had one with dinner, so their Papa, Bar, would peel them for her.

Then, as they grew up, they started to love oranges too so Nyx and Bar would peel for the rest of their family, the process of passing the oranges out taking too long over the table so they eventually just moved to the floor to be closer to each other.

And, just like that, a tradition was born.

They'd do this before dinner every time, no matter the company they had.

Axel always found it ridiculous (most D'Silvettas loved food so the fact that their friends ignored the perfectly good food to eat oranges of all things annoyed him) but Viv found it amusing so it was no surprising when he started to speak to them with his mouth full of the food Cas cooked.

Wait... Cas cooked? He could cook? Was that safe?

"Fuck you guys," The stupid D'Silvetta says, his sister rolls her eyes in response and Damien making his usual bitch face toward's his brother's words. Jazz isn't surprised he hasn't talked yet-- hating to do so with any kind of unfamiliar people around-- but rather impressed how done he can look with Axel's usual bullshit without even saying anything. "This shit is good."

Passing the musician and unpeeled orange which Nyx handed to her first, Dela asked, "Where did you learn to cook like this, Cas?"

"My dad."

"I didn't even know you could cook." Jazz pouts, splitting half of the orange in half to point at Cas with.

"Jitterbug," The celestial chuckles, only making him flush harder than before. "What do you think I go to college for?"

"Uh..." Jazz gulps, biting his lip and trying really hard not to focus on how good Cas looks in his clothing, "Football?"

Leaning over to squish the musician's cheeks, Cas shakes his head, amused smile tugging at his lips as his song goes from a solid viridian to an amused mess of sunflowers and seafoam, "Football doesn't give me any credits."

"Oh." Jazz wrinkles his nose, thinking about all the long hours and training Cas puts into that sport. He was the last one home most days, and always a little sore when practice went on for longer than usual. "That's kinda dumb."

"Alpha's been playing sports since third grade," Atlas, unfortunately, joins the conversation. "I don't think he'll ever give it up even if it exhausts him while also doing college."

"Exhausts me?" The celestial scoffs, but Jazz can't help but to-- horrifyingly-- agree with the douchebag.

"What, are you saying you're getting more than two hours of sleep every night?"

Axel catches his attention by making a 'gimme' motion with his head, mouthing out a please and, understanding, Jazz pulls off a slice of his orange to hive to the D'Silvetta, just doing so when suddenly a God was on top of him.

And maybe it wasn't the way that Jazz was exactly craving to be under someone, but it was still very much comfortable so he wasted no time in circling his arms around Cas and shuffling a bit closer.

He sees the instant reaction of sapphire surprise in Nyx's song as she glances between the two siblings, eyes reading into the situation further than Jazz could hope to as she asks, "He knows you're gay?"

"Yeah?" Both of them answer, colors both a bit surprised and amused, but it's the douchebag who continues on the conversation. "He came out in what, fifth grade? Alpha's gay. So what. Doesn't make him less of a dumbass."

That's valid but also rude.

"Just like him being straight doesn't make him less of a prick." Cas retorts.

"Question," Jazz says softly, raising his hand while the other one curls around the celestial's waist. "Why do you call him Alpha?"

This makes the douchebag smirk, Cas to sigh in defeat, and for the musician to instantly regret asking.

"What do you think his name is?" Atlas asks, sounding all too happy about the turn of conversation.

Jazz wasn't quite sure what to say, also feeling bad that he doesn't know as much about the celestial as he knows about him, but thankfully doesn't have to because Cas answers instead, scowling as he does.

"It's Cas. Just Cas," He moves back further, back to Jazz's chest and the green getting all too delightfully overwhelming. "It's not anything more."

Jazz only pouts more, hearing Cas' song shift and knowing from that that he's lying. Moving down slightly, he nudges their heads together slightly to get better attention before asking, "Then why does he call you Alpha?"

"It's literally his name." Atlas says.

But he introduced himself as Cas? So his name is Cas. Maybe part of his name is Alpha but it's clear that he doesn't want to be called that so they-- his people having matching expressions of 'yeah, sure'-- won't call the celestial anything but Cas.

Damien nudges Nyx, signing with wide-spread, annoyed hands, the asshole seems to be telling the truth, he hates J's butterfly and would do a dick-move like that.

Jazz has to admit, makes sense.

Nyx nods at what her fiance told her and spoke for them both, "We believe it."

The musician wrinkled his nose, unsure of what to do and decided that asking would be the best course of action, "Should I call you Alpha then? Or--"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to ask because Cas grasps the collar of his shirt and pulls Jazz down into an all too quick kiss, pulling away sooner than he appreciated.

"I'm Cas, just Cas." The celestial tells him, pecking the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, and finally the tip of his nose, Jazz going cross eyed to see the divinity properly. "Nothing more. Got it?"

Jazz can't help it, he grins wide enough that his dimples pop out against raspberry pink cheeks.

Then Cas is turning away from him-- unfortunately-- and narrows his eyes at everyone around him, an order on his tongue as he says, "Everyone has to eat three full bites, even if you had two oranges."

"You're going to be a great mother." Jazz watches as Viv pats the celestial on the head again, both her words and actions not seeming to bother him so the musician doesn't say anything.

"You know, Viv," He tells his best friend. "You'd be that really cool but really weird wine aunt."

"Really?" Dela cut in. "I always pictured her more of I'll lose your kids at a grocery store but also if someone hurts them I'll become a serial killer type of aunt."

"Y'know, you have a point," Jazz nods at her words. "But still, Viv, you're gonna be a weirdo forever."

She winks, "You know it."

Feeling a tug on his arms--subconsciously knowing that Cas was trying to stand but also subconsciously knowing that the celestial getting further away from him is not the preferable choice-- and tightens his grip, about to reply when an ethereal green cuts in.

"Jitterbug," Cas says, all too amused as he pokes the musician on his nose. "You have to let me up."

Jazz flushes and instantly loosens his grip, "O-oh.

Then, of course, he just had to be a clumsy idiot and get his sweatpants caught on the edge of the dishwasher, his long legs tripping over themselves as he totters to the side, a yelp falling out of his mouth as he falls.

Only, he doesn't fall and his hips were held into Cas' strong hold and his body, even as larger as it is than his, is being steadied between the celestial's and the counter behind them.

Which, as someone who greatly enjoyed being manhandled by the green-hued deity, did amazingly horrible things to his hormones.

"Be careful," Cas snaps, thumb coming up to pull their faces closer, a glare in those gray eyes that makes Jazz freeze because-- holy fuck is that attractive but also slightly intimidating. "Go slower and don't trip."

"Easier s-said than done." He knows the stammer in his voice doesn't go unnoticed, neither does his blush or the awkward way he shuffles.

But it wasn't fair.

Cas seemed to have what he liked figured out, and how he liked it too, but Jazz wasn't very... versed in the language of loving another person, or teaching someone how to love him. He doesn't speak desire or want well, he doesn't know how to ask for the things he can't even put words to in his head.

But he wants to try.

He wants to try letting the celestial know that he's what Jazz wants.

That he wants to be kissed and held and, even though he's only a man, even though Cas is far more divine than anyone else, he wants to know what it feels like to be worshipped too.

Godling, his papa calls him-- his mother is a Goddess and does not put the title to vain.

Half heaven, half mortality.

Gods, Jazz knows, are meant to be connected to power. To sacrifice. They do not need flowers or songs or dances attributed to their names. They get as much respect as they get fear and they do not cower beneath the feet of men who wish to conquer them.

In the Greek Pantheon, Zeus lives in Olympus.

In Christain myths, God lives in heaven.

In Norse religions, Odin lives in Valhalla.

Point is, the most powerful beings are always unattainable.

They live surrounded by holiness and ruination and magic. They surround themselves with things that remind themselves that they have the strength over it all but never-- never-- with things stronger than them.

The Gods are not selfish.

They praise their followers because they eat devotion up like it is ambrosia and they lick prayers from their fingers like pomegranate juice. They stay in one place and they do not come down to earth for a mortal's love.

And that love? That's what they live for.

In all those stories, it is love that drives the Gods.

Love for self, love for sex, love for gold and power and roses. Love in the shape of sunbeams and moonlight and a wolves howl. Love for anything and everything.

They simply love.

His mother, Jazz decided a long time ago, is a Goddess who is beholden to no domain. She loves too many people, loves in too many ways, for that. But she's kind, and he's kind too.

And so is Cas.

And it makes the musician wonder what flavor his love tastes like.

He's only half-god, but his love tastes like mint leaves, soft smiles and tight hugs. His love is green and golden and it is warm.

Cas' love, Jazz thinks, is green too.

Because a celestial with that ethereal of a viridian song couldn't be anything but green in his love. Gods like him aren't that cruel to change in something so hopeful.

Pausing from his thoughts, Jazz realizes he had been absentmindedly getting himself food and puts his plate down to turn to Cas who had him arms crossed and from the looks of it, had been watching the musician.

He wants to ask him then, what does your love look like? But get lost into lightning-strike gray-- gray? Jazz wouldn't mind if Cas' love were gray, either-- eyes and get swept up into them; a single leaf lost into a stormy night.

Raising an eyebrow just as the purple blast of the wii turning on from the living room sounds out, Cas' eyes briefly sweep the kitchen, finding it empty, and knock Jazz back into reality when they lock back onto his.

"What color was that?" The celestial asks, causing Jazz's thoughts to do a whiplash back on him as he, in bewilderment and surprise, tries to recall what the sound looked like.

Right.

Lavender. Magenta. A twist of an orchid at the edges.

Not trusting himself to say much else-- because how weird would that be, going from what color was that? to is the shade of your love closer to sunflowers or rose leaves?-- and says, "Purple."

"Are--" Cas growls. "--you going to get food?"

The musician doesn't say anything, jaw clenching slightly. He doesn't want food. He doesn't want to hurt the celestial by saying that though, but all he wants is Cas.

"Jasper," He repeats. "Are you going to get food?"

Selfish, his brain tells him. You're being selfish.

Wanting love isn't selfish, He replies.

"Oh I'm sorry," Cas' sarcastic words make Jazz instantly look up, the celestial edging closer to him but all he can see is his soft pink lips. "Do you want something?"

You.

It's you, Jazz takes a deep breath, only for it to hitch in his throat as the celestial forces him back against the counter, hips pressed together and bodies so close, hands moving to Cas' hip, a safe spot he's touched before and knows isn't breaking a boundary.

Leaning up to kiss him, Cas suddenly just, doesn't? And just hands him a water bottle?

"Take this." This instruction shouldn't be as confusing as it was.

"Why?" Jazz asks, straightening slightly from where he was bent over to be able to reach Cas' shorter height.

"You wanted something." He shrugs as if he didn't exactly know that is definitely not what he wanted. "And since--" He growls, winking in a tic that's all too adorable. "--you paused getting dinner, I assumed it was a drink."

Well then stop assuming.

"That's, you didn't, y-you're just-" Jazz's stammer makes his lungs ache with all the more need and he huffs, hand going up to hover over his mouth. "Can you please just kiss me already?"

Please?

Chuckling, Cas mercifully listens, raising up on my toes and pressing their lips together, his soft mouth making Jazz weak at the knees, ne of the celestial's come up to his hair.

Then he's sensually licking across Jazz's bottom lip, tongue warm and feeling all to good, making a surprised and deep groan to escape his chest. Muscles tightening as his hands grasp onto Cas' hips even more, trying to get lost into divinity but also so stuck in the present that he couldn't avoid feeling everything all at once.

Not even realizing that it was happening, Cas is suddenly in the air, pressed against him as they switch spots, the celestial resting on the counter, legs around Jazz's waist as they kiss.

It was almost dizzying, getting kissed with so much intensity.

"Wait, wait," Cas gasps out, instantly making Jazz pull back-- knowing and respecting the celestial and also knowing how it feels when that wait, that no, isn't respected. "Your sisters..."

That's not something Jazz even worried about.

'Cause it's totally not like his sisters make out with their respective partners in front of him before.

"Don't c-care, and they," the musician breathes in a big gulp of air, only slightly embarrassed that he wasn't experienced enough to know not how to get so breathless from kissing. "They probably already k-know."

Hand on above his heart-- Jazz is almost scared he can feel how fast his heart is pounding-- Cas nods. "Can we just...not do this here?"

Not here?

Right. Cas probably didn't want to kiss him that much.

Probably didn't want to be that close while kissing.

Especially with their people only one room over.

Moving away, or at least trying to, doesn't work as the celestial quickly holds onto the collar of his shirt and corrects himself, "I meant go do this somewhere else." There's a pause, a raising of an eyebrow. "Like your bedroom."

Uh... well.

Bedroom.

There's a lot of implications to that.

A lot of assumptions that Jazz simply isn't ready for.

The musician hopes his expression isn't too weird but also knows how wide his eyes are. "Just um, just kissing?"

"Anything you're up for," This isn't a lie, his sunflowers and seafoam buzzing around his head in an intricate dance are, if anything, honest. "Do you want to eat dinner with your-"

Ah! He messed up!

He probably made things awkward or weird like he always does!

He doesn't want Cas to think he doesn't like kissing or anything like that so, with a bit too much excitement says, "No, this!"

"It's okay if you do." The celestial tells him, a light hold on his jaw and a soft kiss on his forehead following the words-- and, honestly, it's nice to hear that. . "This, whatever we are, doesn't have to go fast. Kissing doesn't have to become more, it doesn't even have to become this." Cas gestures between their bodies in what the musician can only assume means sex. "I just don't like doing things like this- -bit hot innit- -around people I don't know well."

Sometimes Jazz feels like he has to do something just because someone else wants to and expects it from him so this, the validation that lets him know that isn't true, matters a lot

So, of course, it makes him grin like a goddamn fool.

Dimples popping out, he takes Cas' face into his hands and presses a kiss to his lips, not feeling any guilt in saying, "They're cruel at Mario Kart."

And Cas just... Cas just respects that decision, not asking why or pushing for more or anything else, just nodding with a small smile of his own.

And it makes Jazz feel important but, most of all, respected in a way he really hasn't been before.

"That's alright," The celestial tells him. "I'm ruthless."

"Will you be ruthless to me?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am." Cas scoffs, eyeing Jazz playfully. "I want to win, if I have to shoot you with a few shells to do that, well... I'm not stopping myself."

Jazz can't help himself, too delighted to do anything but laugh.

Taking their food into the living room, Cas moves to sit on the ground (no other spot being available) but Jazz-- not being able to ignore that part of him that whispers, when you let him go, he'll never want to come back-- and pulls the celestial into his lap with a little shrug.

"I like you like this," Is all he explains, though he could say so much more.

"I like this too." Smirking, Cas takes the fork full of food Jazz was holding and feeds it to him instead-- making the musician flush, not used to things like... that.

Sometimes, intimacy wasn't about sex or touching or anything of the sort.

Sometimes, intimacy is just simple actions that makes someone feel cared about.

And actions like that will always get Jazz to go red.