c h a p t e r. 22

"There are few things we should keenly desire if we really knew what we wanted." -François de La Rochefoucauld

chapter 22

Jazz happily nuzzled into Castor's neck from where the god sat on his lap, both of them relaxing in the hot tub after getting back to the castle after their time at Nymph's Creek.

His boyfriend-- boyfriend!-- wasn't too angry anymore, the moss fading into something softer but still there, a chartreuse disbelief in his tone too. That part he couldn't figure out but wasn't quite sure to figure out.

"Castor?" He hums against his neck.

"Yes?" The celestial clears his throat.

"I know I already said this, but you make me happy," Jazz pauses. "And you're really cute."

Castor flushes, his song going a little jittery with surprise as he holds the musician tighter, legs rising higher against his hips as he replies, "You make me happy too Jitterbug. As a- -bit hot innit- -forewarning, I should say that I don't...know how to be a good boyfriend. And I..."

The celestial frowns, shifting slightly as he purses his lips slightly. Jazz doesn't even have to listen to his song to know that he was thinking of how to say what he wanted to.

"I've never had like, a good boyfriend," Ouch, but same. Until now. "But I haven't had a bad one either so if I do something wrong you have to tell me."

"Oh," Jazz mumbles, giving the skin on his shoulders a small kiss before facing him again. "Were all your boyfriends in the middle zone, or when you were um, younger or something?"

"Nah," Castor gives an awkward laugh. "You're ahead of me in the game."

Ahead of him?

Relationship wise?

Fucking how?

Castor is, well, Castor is a damn God, how could he not have been in relationships?

"Dating someone with a disability usually doesn't interest someone," Castor begins to explain, growling a couple seconds later. "Especially if they can't even kiss without a tic getting in the way."

"I'm..." The musician pauses, eyes widening as he realizes what exactly that entails. "I'm your first boyfriend?"

"I've had...fuck buddies, I guess," He winces out. "But um that never lasted long, which when it came to that, it's kinda what you'd expect. I mean -I know you wouldn't know that. It's the closest I've gotten to having one."

That's... that's honestly sad, that no one could see past their judgements and ignorance to give this honestly amazing and kind-- but kinda grumpy-- guy a chance.

He was alone, and they just didn't get to understand his awesomeness.

"I just...growing up, nobody was interested in me? Which is understandable, you know, I can be- -mother ducklings- -a lot for someone. Even without factoring the Tourette's."

That's such bullshit. He's not too much.

He's a sweetheart and loving and adorable but also really hot and makes Jazz more comfortable than anyone else he knows.

He's his boyfriend but that doesn't mean he's biased. These are downright fucking facts.

"So, yes." Cas nods. "You're my first boyfriend."

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Jazz gently cups the back of his neck and gives the celestial a soft kiss, one he melts into in an instance, hands propped up against the musician's chest.

"I want to be your last boyfriend too." Jazz tells him truthfully, lips just brushing his and his thumbs running over Castor's hips. "Please?"

His star doesn't say anything, but the way he kissed him was answer enough.

They relaxed in the hot tub for another good hour or so, mostly kissing until it got a bit overwhelming for Jazz and then the two talked about the silly things the musician thought of.

Having one of the butlers bring up some small smack things and different kinds of sandwiches, they eat before getting some towels and laying them over the balcony next to the hot tub, watching the sun disappear over the horizon and for the stars and the full moon to take its place.

Jazz, like the very true nerd he was, pointed out all the constellations and stars he knew about, even going off into a tangent about some of the stories or the Greek myths attached to them.

And, of course, about the Castor Alpha that was a star but not his star, too.

Castor seemed a little distracted, but the musician also knew he liked to just listen sometimes, and kept talking, letting his celestial curl into his side and steal his warmth.

"Castor?" He asks, tilting his head down so mint can crash with lightning-strike gray eyes when his god looks up at him. "What do you think happens when we die?"

The star pauses, and says, "I don't fucking know, I'm probably going to hell. You might... I don't know, where do you think puppies go when they die? Or do you want to be reincarnated?"

"Excuse me, sir," Jazz rolls over, pulling his boyfriend onto his lap with a small, not-really intimidating glare. "You are not going to hell, because if you do I'll simply have to follow you and I'm not about that after-life. So we're both gonna go to, like, purgatory and make friends with all the other dweebs and pet puppies and we'll both be ghosties so technically you won't be allergic to anything and can drink as many pomegranate smoothies as you want."

"You couldn't get into hell even if you wanted to," Castor retorts back.

The musician bends down and kisses his nose, "You're severely underestimating my friendship-making skills. I could befriend some high up angels and bust you out. Not that I think you'd be going there anyways, you're too nice for that."

"Too nice," He scoffs.

"Mhm, very nice all around God," Jazz nodded at him. "Twelve outta ten, because even your grumpiness is adorable and you're never mean to me."

"Why would I be mean to you?" Castor rolls his eyes. "You're my boyfriend."

"That fact that you're not mean to me is exactly my point, Star."

"You're gonna be a stubborn puppy about this, aren't you?"

"I'm not a puppy," Jazz pouts.

"And I'm not a God," The celestial easily replied back.

"Liar, that's what you are." The musician grumbled. "A grumpy liar."

"Fine," Castor gave in, settling down onto his boyfriend, hands holding onto his forearms, his own hands gripping onto the celestial's hips. "Where do you think we go when we die?"

"Hm," He tilted his head at him. "I think that, when we die, people get the pain they've given to other people."

"All pain?"

"Not like... not like if you spilled hot coffee on me by accident, but like, if you came up to someone and just decked them for no reason, then you'd get the physical and emotional pain that you gave to them. Good people, great people even, get it too. Kinda like karma, kinda not. Oh! I also think people go wherever they want to go, if it doesn't hurt anyone else's soul. Like my parents, they're going to become ghosts together and scare the shit out of people. Me? I'd like to go to a garden at midnight. Somewhere not too bright, peaceful, but busy enough to give my mind something to do too. You'll be there, too."

Castor is quiet for a moment before saying, "I hope pain isn't transferred like that. I've fought a lot of people, but I'm not worried about me. Like -my brother. He likes to be mean to me, but he doesn't deserve pain. And Selene, she- -Christmas lights- -she's had to hurt people, killed people, for her job...she doesn't deserve pain. But yeah, I'd love to be in the after life with you."

"It's not like that, Star. I don't really know how to explain it," Jazz looks back up at the stars. "If you purposely hurt someone, like actually want them to be in pain, then you'll get that pain too. But like with Selene, she's a protector. A soldier. Part of her job is to hurt people so other people don't get hurt. She wouldn't be in pain because of that. Neither would Atlas, even if he kinda makes me upset, but again that's not his fault."

"So... If I had a bully who liked to hurt me," he said, "then they'd get that pain too? But if someone kicked someone else's ass to protect or defend a friend or something, they wouldn't?"

"Exactly."

"How much pain do you think you'll get?"

"Oh," Jazz says softly, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I'm not sure. I don't remember a lot of things I did in sophomore or junior year, but I think I hurt a lot of people without knowing it." Then, at the thought, he adds, "I also haven't decided if some of the pain I caused was deserving, either. Then again, who am I to decide?"

"Depends on the situation," Castor said, his ethereal greens a bit hard to see in the dark. "Give me an example."

"I'm not the violent type," The musician begins. "But I have gotten into some fights. There's these guys at my old school, brothers. The Creed family is just a bunch of sick fucks, honestly. They liked to see how far they could push me until I reacted, just usual things like shoving me into lockers, smacking me with books or something. One day, they threw a rock through the window of my car. Didn't hurt me or anything, but that car is really important to me, my dad too. It's one of the only things he had from his Abuelo. And I got mad, and by the end of it they both had broken noses and a couple more injuries too. I'm not sure they deserved it though. They never hurt me that bad, either, and they didn't know how easy I bruise either."

"I don't think you'll get pain for that, you didn't--" He growls. "--want to hurt them so they'd be in pain. Sounds like self-defense to me."

"I don't think I've ever met someone I've wanted to hurt before," Jazz honestly told him.

"We," Castor says, "are very different people."

"That's because you're a God and I'm a human."

"If Gods are real, there's no way in hell you're only human," The celestial scoffed.

"My papa calls my Mama a goddess," Jazz chuckles, mint eyes going back to lightning-strike gray eyes that seemed to glow from the moonlight. "He calls my siblings and I Godlings, though I don't think there's anything extra about me. You, on the other hand, have more stardust than other people. I can see it-- I could even when we first met."

"Stardust?" Castor frowns, raising an eyebrow. "Jasper, I'm made out of water, Tourette's, coffee and strawberries. Stardust--" He squeaks. "--isn't on the list."

"You didn't even know you were a God," Jazz shifts underneath him, hips raising slightly to push his star closer, him now completely on top of the musician's lap. "So how would you know if you were made of stardust or not? By the very definition of the human body, we are all stardust. The hemoglobin in your blood, it has four iron atoms in it's very structure. Iron is only naturally found in the core of dying stars. We're made of water, yes, but we are all stardust, all of us. I think that you just have more stardust than other people."

"Nerd." Castor snickers, patting his boyfriend's chest teasingly. "Sure, I'm stardust, you're puppy-dust modeled in a six foot five shell."

"Castor," Jazz brought their chest together with a whine, a gentle hand on the back of the god's neck bringing him down. "I'm not a puppy."

"Yes, you are."

"Fight me."

The god smirks, and leans all the closer, noses brushes as he says, "Probably shouldn't have said that."

He's kissing Jazz before the musician can even say anything, his lips dominating and soft against his own, stealing the breath away from him as the celestial reaches up to hold his jaw in a firm yet gentle hand.

Castor doesn't move away until they're both breathless and pressed close enough that their bodies practically had no room left between them.

"Hmm," Jazz hums, licking his lips and flushing further when they taste like his star. "If I say that again, will you kiss me more?"

"Dork," He rolls his lightning-strike gray eyes but ends up kissing him more anyway.

Jazz might be a bit biased, but it's a pretty nice way to end the day with his boyfriend.