c h a p t e r. 29

"To be desired is perhaps the closest anybody in this life can reach to feeling immortal." -John Berger

chapter 29

While Castor continued to sleep, curled up on his lap, Jazz's parents came over to him and they began to talk about how his god and Axel got into the fight-- then switched to how the musician felt about Atlas and how he mistreats his boyfriend.

Which, of course, is not a good feeling and his papa didn't handle it too well but he also new he wasn't someone who had much authority over the situation but would also talk to Cas' parents, Micah and AJ, who he now found out that they used to be friends with when they were in high school.

Apparently they met at a beach and got together every so now and again.

Both of their dads thought their mothers were Goddesses.

But Castor's dad was a demon or something? He wasn't very sure the reasoning behind it, seeing as Micah was also a good person despite having rough edges.

If the celestial ever let him meet his parents-- which, well, he doubted-- he'd definitely try not to make himself a fool in front of the man. He was clumsy, tripped over his own words as much as his feet, was an oblivious idiot most of the time, couldn't really do much or protect people or even stand up for himself due to his anxiety and didn't know how to handle other people fighting.

He often felt like he didn't have much to offer.

He wondered why Cas even liked him-- what did he see in Jazz that made him feel what he does, that made him what to be with someone as... difficult to love as he is.

The god on his lap shuffles slightly, eyes shifting under closed lids and his hand coming up to push against his chest, mumbling out, "Jitterbug, orange."

That's all he says before yawning, green casting up and over him in a swirl of seafoam and chartreuse. He's better rested but still tired. It makes Jazz wonder how much sleep he got when they weren't together.

But they're here, together now, and it makes the musician blink down at Castor with a smile. He didn't understand why they were together, why the celestial liked him, but he was happy with it regardless.

"Can I get up?" Castor asks, and Jazz lets him. The god stretches slightly, moving to stand on the first row of seats, his height not allowing him to reach the upper containment sections.

"You really like him, don't you?" His Goddess mama asks, tilting her head up at him from her spot sitting halfway over her husband's lap. "I can tell-- you have t-that look in your eye."

"That look in my eye?"

"Yeah, he has the same one," Mama nudged his papa in his thigh, making him roll his eyes but not make a move to deny what she said.

Which wouldn't have mattered, even if he did. Everyone and their cousin knew Bar Red was a softie for his wife-- always had been, they were a beautiful couple. Even if it was gross seeing his parents kiss, he always found them admirable.

They were the perfect couple but just ew.

Although, they did give him a great example to base what love and romance and appreciation should look like. They were healthy, and Jazz always tried to find someone to be healthy with too.

That didn't stop him from getting trapped into a relationship with Keres.

But it also allowed him to get out, to know that Castor was someone he would like to spend the rest of his life with-- if the celestial could put up for and still like him at that point.

A thud in the shade of a bruised pear echoes through the space and Jazz looks up to see that his boyfriend had out a duffle and plopped it into one of the seats, unzipping it to pull out three large bags of... cookies?

He sits down back next to the musician, keeping two of the bags in his lap but then handing the third to his Goddess mama, who raises her eyebrow and asks, "Am I supposed t-to eat one?"

"Please," Castor nods. "They're uh, you'll like them."

His mama looks at Jazz, a warm tint in her mint eyes that tells him--even if her blue song would tell him regardless-- that she was both amused and confused. Opening up the bag, her nose wrinkles.

"Sugar cookies?"

"Nope." The god pauses, then blinks and adds, "It's not pumpkin spice either."

Clementine was never someone to not eat a sweet (where all his siblings got it from) or hesitate to eat plenty of said sweets, so she didn't hesitate in taking a big bite even when she didn't know what it was.

Her song turned into blueberries and a cerulean blue that danced together with joy, her features getting soaked with happiness and she turned, shaking Bar's arm as she shoved the rest of her cookie in her mouth.

This is definitely where they got it first.

"Oly!" His mama shouts, holding a cookie up to his papa who takes it was a humor-filled scoff. Then she turns back to Castor, eyes wide as she bounces in her seat with excitement, obviously overjoyed. "Thank you!"

Jazz is really starting to question what was in that cookie.

Probably having heard her shout, but also very in tune with their parents, Dela slides into the seat next to her twin, Eris leans over their papa while his oldest sister stands by the aisle-- Nyx's hand coming out in front of her as she waited for something, looking at the star expectantly.

In the same quiet way, Castor doesn't hesitate to give her one of the other two big bags, too. With a wink, the midnight blue songed girl sauntered off, probably to go bicker with her fiance again.

What is happening?

Eris and Dela looked just as confused, which his boyfriend saw and pointed to the duffel bag as he handed Jazz the last bag, "There, have them."

Cookies? Castor made them all cookies?

But what kind of cookies?

Definitely a kind he appreciates-- all.

Jazz's sisters each grab a bag and try them, their expressions and songs looking like they are just as happy with the cookies as their goddess mama was-- before they retreated back to their regular spots.

He'll like them too, then.

There's not many things that the women in his family like that he doesn't.

So, unzipping the bag, he gingerly takes out the cookie, smelling it. Smells like a sugar cookie, looks like a pumpkin spice one but he already knows it's not either. Could it be some kind of chocolate or vanilla one? A hidden red velvet?

He puts it into his mouth, the taste coating his tongue.

Orange.

It's an orange cookie. The warm but delicate citrus flavor spreads, making him close his eyes. The cookie is really good.

Oh fuck, Castor is perfect.

Jazz lightly grips his boyfriend's leg and turns the god towards him, his whole body feeling like it's just floating with happiness and excitement-- he can't help but to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Then he eats the rest of the cookie in small bites, savoring it.

"Oranges!" He can't help but to chirp, eating the next cookie but this time in a single bite. 'Cause he had like a good two dozen more and could afford to stuff his face in between appreciating the flavor.

His papa starts a conversation but he doesn't pay much attention, just enjoying his cookies until his dad shouts a thanks to his oldest sister and then he starts to think about how many cookies there were.

If he, Nyx, and their mama got about thirty and their other siblings got bags with about ten and there were even more cookies than that... that's a lot of fucking cookies.

Jazz tugs on his boyfriend's arm, "How long did it take?"

"They only take like, fifteen minutes to actually bake, and--" Castor answers, growling and his shoulder shrugging. "--like twenty in prep time. I'll give you guys the recipe. It's only twenty per batch though, since you have absolutely no control when it comes to sweet things."

"I have some control," Jazz smiles sheepishly, because in reality, he had zilch. "But how long did it take you to do, the 'tweaking' I mean?"

Frowning, his song goes chartreuse and pine, a hand rubbing the back of Castor's neck, "A few days?"

And, knowing the celestial, he probably got little, if none, sleep for those days.

"Castor," The musician scolds, running a thumb over his boyfriend's cheek. "You shouldn't have put off sleep for something like that, it's unhealthy and not worth it."

The god groans, thunking his head onto Jazz's warm bicep, "It's not fair how easily you read me, Jitterbug."

His parents, with his Goddess Mama skipping happily, go back to their former seats as Tio Gus calls them, something about an old coworker him and his papa used to have.

"Says you, Star." He shoots back. "You can just tell what I'm feeling-- most of the time without knowing why I'm feeling that way-- even without my intrusive reading people's songs thing."

"Having a connection with people, even if they don't always know the extent of it is not intrusive." Castor says, voice all sea green and seafoam as his hard, lightning eyes narrow at him slightly. "I've never seen you be busy or act entitled to know something or push for more information just because you can tell how people feel most times. You're respectful and kind and always stay within people's boundaries; you're the opposite of intrusive."

"But..." Jazz tilts his head, a little confused. He's used to being able to expect the worst from people and then have that expectation become reality, but with his God-- he never really knew what the case was. "You were just a baby bit upset because of it?"

The celestial then decides to squish his boyfriend's cheeks together and tells him, "You're a dork but you're my dork, okay? I wasn't upset. I'm just still not completely used to someone being able to do that but in a way I--" He growls, hands doing a little bop thing against his cheeks in a tic. "--like it too. I never have to explain myself with you, you just already know."

"Aw," Jazz grins, leaning down to peck his boyfriend's lips, then nuzzles into his neck happily. Oh no, Castor was right, he is a puppy. "I feel special. You pretty much hate everyone but you like me and I can understand you-- a God."

"Not a God, Jasper."

"Sure, sure. Totally believe you."

"Liar," Castor scoffs, pressing a brief, soft kiss to the side of his jaw which was pretty much the only part of his face he could see.

"You know," Jazz said. "It's rude you don't have faith that I, as a loyal follower to this God right here--" He nips at the celestial's neck. "--don't know divinity when I see it."

He's silent for a couple seconds, almost seeming to struggle with something before, in an incredulous voice, asking, "Did you just bite me?"

"I'll do it again," The warning-- offer?-- slips his lips before he has time to catch up with them, just slightly embarrassed and blurts things it seems nonstop around the star.

Castor's blush is just barely there, his song going deeper but softer and wiley, it's all sunflowers and seafoam and-- just when Viv shouted that they were about to land and to buckle up-- says, "Let's um, get-- bit hot innit-- off the plane."

The musician agrees but can't help but to feel smug because this was one of those rare times that he was the one making his boyfriend go red and flustered instead of the other way around.

He liked that feeling in his chest, the possessive one that told him that Castor would only react to him like that.

About fifteen minutes later and besides his oldest sister and the devil boy, Jazz and his god were the last off the plane, waiting with the rest of the Reds for them when the tinsel-covered Fly comes running towards Castor, getting in a few people's way in the process.

Then with a shout of, "He's threatening you!" he throws a phone, who Jazz learned was Atlas' at the celestial.

Threatening?

Jazz's stomach twisted uncomfortably, hands growing hotter than normal. He... he didn't like Atlas, he didn't like how his boyfriend was treated, he didn't like that threats and bruises and expecting to get beat up under the prompt of Mistlefoe was a normal thing for him.

He didn't like it, not at all.

Castor never appreciated when the musician got hurt, and it was the same the other way around. He's allowed to be protective towards the people he cares about.

"You answered when he called?" Castor raised an eyebrow, taking the phone.

"Well," Flynn shrugs. "Scar answered because the person's name said Wifey and she wanted to know who would have the audacity to marry him." Actually, he would like to know that too, because how? "I decided to tell him his name is stupid?"

"Oh, well in that case," Castor says. "It's perfectly reasonable."

It's not. It's really not. He shouldn't have been conditioned to think that.

It's not okay that Atlas hurts him-- even if they are brothers.

Flynn taps his foot into the ground, creating a canopy of plum colors swirls to spiral up around him as the celestial puts the phone buzzing with brown circles, listening to what his bully of a brother had to say.

He was all chartreuse and sea greens. Annoyed, a little frustrated, the hurt from earlier just under the surface and coated in a deep cyan.It was all around him-- the hurt from years of mistreatment from someone he loved.

It wasn't fair, Jazz thought, staring at the god he came to deeply care about. It's not fair that he thinks this pain is something he has to live with.

Sighing, Castor rolled his eyes, told Atlas off for something that Jazz must've missed and hung up the phone.

Almost immediately, the asshole calls back.

And, almost just as quickly, Jazz takes the phone from the celestial and ignores the odd look he got, hitting the answer button but not putting it up to his ear. He looked at Castor, not knowing what expression he had on but knowing it certainly wasn't nice, and just stared into those lightning-strike eyes until something shifted in them.

Jazz knows he doesn't get like this often; knows that this harsh protectiveness bubbling up in him that is turning his usually soft center hard. He knew he could be intense, because he was so there and so excited for life as much as small things but this kind of intense-- this was different.

And he's not going to stop it.

"I'll be back in five minutes," His voice was stern, not emotionless but not kind. Flynn and Castor didn't say anything, they just stared, and he turned away, putting the phone up to his year as he went back into the plane and cut off Atlas' swears. "This is Jazz, by the way."

"Jazz?" The asshole pauses, then says, "Oh! Alpha's puppy, got it."

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"About you getting your shit together," Jazz doesn't hesitate to say this. "Look, I know I'm new to you, new to this whole dynamic that you and Castor have going on, but I'm also seeing things from this side and you're not. You hurt him, and that's not okay."

"He... I don't-- what?" Atlas sounds confused and it makes him sigh.

"You're not a bad person, Atlas, correct?"

"I don't think I am."

"I don't either," he says, "you have a lot of people who care about you, including my boyfriend. He loves you. Please listen to me, okay? I'm not meaning to offend you or intrude into your family, but what you're doing actually hurts Castor. I'm telling you you have to stop completely or not act like an annoying older brother, I'm just saying pull back a little. Stop treating him like shit and start treating him at least a little more like your other siblings, okay?"

"Did I do something really wrong last time, or something?" Atlas asks. "He never brought this up before."

"Castor probably never would bring it up," Jazz admits. "He's hurt by what you do because he doesn't feel like you love him, but I know that's not true. I don't want to spill all his beans or anything, I just need you to stop treating him like how you are now. Be kinder. Less aggressive. I just... I've been through some things and I can't have you continue how you are around him. I can't watch that anymore. So get your shit together and stop threatening my boyfriend and stop being such an asshole to him. I'm a gentle person, and you're his brother, but if I honestly have to make sure he stays away from you to avoid being hurt, I have the power to prevent that."

"I'll, fuck, you're something, you know that?" Atlas grumbles. "I'll do my best, I didn't know he took what I did to heart-- I really didn't. And I was wrong about you."

"Wrong about me?"

"You act like a giant puppy, I didn't think you had any bark or bite, though. But you just hide yours for the right moment, you're not a hothead like me or Alpha. I admire that, it's not something a lot of people can do."

"Oh," Jazz blinked. "I guess I do. Thank you for hearing what I said, and I'll hold you to your words, y'know. Don't mess it up."

"You know how to fight, kid?" Atlas sounds amused when he asked this.

"Yes, but I'll learn how to better just for you," Jazz chirps, and the asshole laughs before hanging up.

As soon as he's off the phone, looking down at it and seeing the way his hands were shaking, embarrassment hit him square in the chest, heating his cheeks.

He... really just snatched the phone away from Castor and talked to his brother without permission.

Oh no.

Was he supposed to ask about those things?

Was the god mad at him now? What if he really messed up?

What about Flynn? Did they not want to be around him now? What if--

Nope, nope, nope. He will not be panicking.

Okay he will be panicking but hopefully not that much.

Gathering the courage, Jazz went back out to where his papa, Scar, Fly, and his boyfriend were standing close together, tension and alarm-setting colors swirling around their heads. Castor was a violent basil of fear and a sea green of worry.

Then he hears Scar scoff and say, "That amount of times you were hurt, hell, you were hospitalized twice in the time I knew you. And you broke an arm-- the broken ribs! There's no way that was all from fights. What kind of idiot keeps fighting in those conditions?"

Which so did not help the protective feeling that bubbles thick and heavy in his chest, weighing him down until even his blood felt too heavy and his insides burned.

"Stop asking him things like that," Jazz snaps, unable to stop his features from dropping into a glare as he silently hands Fly-- not Castor because fuck it if he trusts Atlas not to call again-- the phone. "That's his and Flynn's business, not yours. Either take it up with your boyfriend or leave mine out of it, Scar."

"But Papi--"

"No." He crossed his arms, straightening to his usual height. "This isn't a negotiation. And papa bear, I get that you're concerned but I promise you, if there's something you need to know I will tell you. If Castor wants you to know something, he'll tell you, otherwise no personal questions like that. Do all of you understand or do I need to repeat myself?"

Scar-- and even Fly, though he doesn't know why because he knew that the blondie had Cas' boundaries clear in his mind-- responded in a confirmation but he had to hold eye contact with his dad for a good couple seconds before the red edged that creeped into his usually soft pink song mellowed out slightly.

Bar sighed, "I trust you, Godling, I just..."

"I know," Jazz nodded, looking over his shoulder at the star when he realized he had positioned himself in front of him, his green all different shades. "Can you let us talk?"

The three nodded, leaving the couple to themselves with Fly promising to catch up to them later.

As soon as they were gone, Jazz faced his boyfriend and braced his arms behind his back, feeling his muscles stretch out and relaxing, he was still standing at his true height and Castor had to tilt his head back-- it made the musician wonder if the god knew how much he slouched down or tried to make himself smaller next the him before now or not.

But that was a conversation for another day.

"I'm sorry I butted in," He apologizes, mint eyes quickly looking away, not wanting to see if the celestial was upset with him. "I should've asked if it was okay to talk t-to the assh-- Atlas! I meant Atlas, if it was okay to talk to him before I did so. So I'm sorry, I should've gotten permission and um... right then, with them three, too? I saw that you were overwhelmed and just reacted. I didn't think or ask if you wanted to reply yourself, I just took control of the situation which was unfair. I'm sorry I got that, too."

"You're fine, Jitterbug." Castor says, sounding sincere but also strangely okay with what the musician did, all sunflowers and rose leaves and chartreuse. "Thanks, I guess. Sawyer can be overwhelming a lot."

"Yeah, but it's not just that, it's... it's like, whenever someone talks about Atlas and how he treats you, you get anxious or overwhelmed because you don't want them to think that he's a bad guy even if he is a bad guy, even if it's only to you." He gives a little shrug, not knowing if his observation is weird or not. "He's important to you, even if he isn't the only one Scar brought up just then."

Lightning-strike eyes snap over to him, "How did you know that?"

"Uh..." Jazz rubs his hands together, tugging at his own sleeves. "You go olive with Atlas, but there's this soft jade too, your love for him is. is like the same love you h-have for Noelle and Circe and Fly. But when she spoke, there was none of that, just olive, basil, and sea green. It was easy to tell you, that you didn't want to answer."

"I used to get hurt a lot, not by Atlas, I mean," Castor admits.

It hurts-- it physically hurts him down to his bones, knowing that. Knowing that someone had enough hate in their hearts to look at his god and think that he was okay to hurt, that he was less than the consequences of it.

It hurts, knowing that his god understood the definition of pain and probably had his own, reflected from a stack of moments and memories and clenched fists, tucked somewhere underneath his skin.

It hurts, and it wasn't fair, not at all.

"Talking about that sucks, I don't want to do it." He continues. "But if -if you have questions, or want to talk about it with me, I will."

"I... I want to know," Jazz hesitates to say this, then shakes off the fear and wraps Castor into his arms, tucking their bodies close together, holding him gently but firmly. "But I know talking about things like that, it will all be new to you. So, if or when we have that conversation, don't feel bad if you need to stop or it gets too much, okay?"

The god nods and hugs him back, letting out a soft sigh as he did.

This was a moment, a serious one, that Jazz won't forget but he was happy that they'll have more time together on the island to have happy moments, too.