c h a p t e r. 16

"There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it." ―George Bernard Shaw

chapter 16

Jazz doesn't think he's ever seen Castor more nervous than when the celestial led him to his room and pointed at the bed.

"Here," He said. "Just sit, please." Without hesitation, the musician does so, watching as his star stands above him for a moment before quickly skirting over to his desk and leans back against the chair, legs propped up.

After eyeing him for a second, the celestial gives a soft sigh.

"Jasper, c'mon," Castor says, a growl to his gentle voice. "Even if I could realistically get you in trouble, I can't. I'm not your authority figure, I don't have any control over you. You don't have to act like you're in trouble."

That's so untrue, though. He was a God-- his God, and Jazz had an almost-love for him. He could totally get Jazz into 'trouble' by just being mad at him.

Anxiety was punishment enough.

"T-talk usually means um," Jazz shifts in his spot. "Sit still while someone y-yells at me."

Frowning, Castor grabs the dog tags from around his neck in a reassuring grip like how he always does when he's a little sure-- cluing the musician in on how he feels just as much as the pine and sage in his song, "It's not like that with me. If I ever yell at you you must have like, killed someone or something. Or gotten hurt. And you bet your sweet ass that if you don't yell back at me if I ever do it for no goddamn reason I'll be a bit disappointed."

Yell back? No thank you.

"I-I don't like to yell."

"Listen, Love," He says, leaning forward slightly-- the endearment not lost on Jazz. "I noticed your thing when it comes to touching and I'm just trying to respect that."

He blinks, slightly confused, "...my thing?"

"You know," Castor shrugs, not looking at him and Jazz knew it was purposeful, like he was trying to respect him but not exactly knowing how. "You don't like to be touched. Not first, anyway. And I -I have asked. Usually I go off body language, since I'm no good with words, but I'm getting better at it."

"Oh..."

He-- he noticed that?

Jazz was okay touching him. Touching people like Viv and Axel and his family who he completely trusts, because he knows that they will understand what the word no means and respect it too, understand when he's not comfortable touching someone before even he realizes it.

And he doesn't realize it-- most of the time, he has a hard time recognizing when too much is too much, when things start to make him panic until he's on the floor in tears.

Castor-- well.

Castor was safe. Castor wouldn't hurt him either-- he wouldn't... he wouldn't push him to do anything, either. He was respectful.

"Do you, um," Jazz rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you want t-to know why, um... why I'm-- why I'm like this?"

The celestial raises an eyebrow and glances at him, "Having boundaries and being nervous towards touch?"

"Not nervous," Though he was right about the boundaries. "Scared."

That got Castor's attention, the celestial tensing almost automatically as he sits up straight against the desk, feet falling onto the floor as he observes Jazz-- who only fidgets in response.

"Scared?" He questions. "Why would you be... Did..."

"I had these f-friends in high school," Jazz doesn't look at him. He can't. He can't risk seeing the look in his eyes, the change in his song, when the star finds out he's dirty. Weak. Finds out he's used. "They weren't good people. Th-they were, they were angry. They were angry a lot, Castor." His voice sounds too small for how large of a feeling is burning through his chest. "I thought that, um, that getting put down, getting called crazy when I mentioned something I clearly remember happened-- t-they liked to, they liked to t-tell me that I was crazy. Forgetful. And, and I am b-but... things happened. And then they would pretend that it didn't. They made me t-think I was going insane for, for a while, actually."

Realizing that didn't quite explain his aversion to unfamiliar touch, Jazz winced and rings his hands together in front of him, "And they introduced me to this g-guy. An old friend of there's. I knew, well, I-I knew he wasn't my butterfly. I only have one-- and, and that's you, but I didn't know that back then a-and I just wanted experience, you know?"

Cas didn't respond, but the musician didn't expect him too.

"K-Ke-Keres was p-pushy," Jazz admitted, stumbling over his ex's name, covering his eyes with his hand-- not wanting the celestial to know he was probably going to start crying any second now at the mere thought of his trauma. "He l-liked to do things, he liked to do things I wasn't ready for? And, w-well, no didn't really become an, an option with him. And he got angry, too, just like my old friends. Just like them, but w-worse."

A snarl breaks from Castors lips with a Sasuke! and the musician knows it's completely out of his control.

"He didn't--" The celestial's sentence breaks with a growl, voice tight with half-anger, half-concern. "--listen when you said no?"

Jazz nods, feeling his face pale with the memories and for his hands to turn to ice-- but he continues. He didn't want Castor to think he was broken or disgusting.

Even if he was.

"He threw things," Jazz jerks, the image of a glass shattering next to his head, the loud ringing and the black of fear surrounding him, blind and cold and scared. "A-and sometimes I, I annoyed him too much. I'd make him too angry without meaning to, I swear I didn't m-mean too. But he'd, he'd hit me sometimes. Not h-hard and, and I bruise easy anyway. I know it's not okay, what-- what he did, I mean. He shouldn't have treated me like that. And now, I j-just, I get scared when people touch me too much or unexpectedly. I get these flashbacks--" He gives a watery chuckle. "--I think people are actually him, sometimes. I shut down. It, it isn't pretty."

"I..." Castor clearly hesitates, moss over his face and body and holding him in it's anger-induced prison, those lightning-strike gray eyes hidden but probably no less full of rage. "I understand." Jazz wished he didn't. "What can I- -mother ducklings- -do so you don't get triggered?"

"You touching me is okay," Jazz tilts his head to the side, still feeling how his eyelashes were a little wet from the tears. "You... you m-make me feel safe, Castor. You're all green! I've never met someone all green before, it's beautiful. O-oh, anyways, I-- well, you're gentle. Not a lot of people are gentle with me, and you read my body language pretty well. If... if I feel uncomfortable, or having a really bad day where I can't be touched, I'll tell you? So, um, that way, it's still okay for me to get cuddles, yes?"

"Well yeah," Castor is tense as he says this, shoulders rolling uncomfortably and green still all moss and chartreuse and basils. Angry. Annoyed. Scared. "I haven't been touching you because I didn't want to cross your boundaries, which I- -in Eden- -already did since I didn't ask before. As long as you're okay with it, I'm okay with it."

Boundaries, that's what the celestial is talking about.

He's asking in a casual way, what Jazz's boundaries are. None of his partners, especially not in the abusive relation he got trapped into, asked about something like this before.

What scares him the most?

People grabbing him.

Biceps stinging and aching with pain from being grabbed and pinned.

A flash of empty blue eyes. Cold hands, cold hard, dead and white music still against a pale face. Bruises the shape of fingers. Scars against his back from glass and shoes. Unforgiving hands and a cruel smile.

"Don't...don't grab my upper arms." Jazz chokes on the 'please' and 'sorry' that wants to crawl up his throat.

Nodding, Castor doesn't ask why or argue, he just agrees and moves on.

"I won't." The celestial pauses. "We kiss. Like, a lot."

No matter how anxious he was, some of that panic got replaced with a warm affection and embarrassment and made Jazz blush.

"And we can take that as slow as you like, or just have a boundary of where everything stops. If you want a safe word, we can have one, if you want us to just until you strictly say otherwise never to go past simple kissing, we won't." He tells him, squeaking in a tic. "There's no rush. No means no, hesitant means no. I don't need a reason and I won't- -mother ducklings- -get mad. I never want you to feel pressured and if you feel that way, tell me and I'll stop whatever I'm doing."

It's a promise. Jazz knows this and he's grateful-- he's grateful and he believes him.

"I'd never hit you, or yell at you like that. I don't care how- -Sasuke- -mad I am or what you did, I never will. Sometimes I can get amped up and get loud but just tell me to lower my voice or quiet down. I just, I don't know how to say that I won't abuse you. I wont gaslight you or guilt trip you. I'm not, I don't do that stuff. If you ever feel emotionally uncomfortable- -in Eden- -or think I might hurt you- -in Eden- -in a moment please either tell me that or tell me to go away. I'll do it no questions asked. You should never be in a position during a relationship where you question your safety."

The musician frowns as Castor continues speaking, not because his words upset him but because of the way his star was beginning to shake, ticing more and jerking randomly.

"I wish...I wish I had more practice at being a better person." He admits with a strained growl, green going stressed and awkward and too basil for comfort. "I'm not -I'm not good- -Sasuke!- -at this. At talking."

I understood, he had said.

Castor knew what it felt like to be touched when he didn't want to be, to have no choice in the matter, to fight against hands on his body that shouldn't be there on lips on his own that feel as disgusting as the body over his.

That shouldn't have happened.

This shouldn't have happened to either of them.

And now? Now the celestial was panicking.

Triggered, Jazz thinks with a startle. He got triggered. I need to be more careful in the future.

"Sasuke, Christmas lights--" Cas grips his hair harshly with one hand and his whole body shakes in a tic, the other hand clutching his own wrist in what looks painful. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm--" He growls, head rolling. "--I'm sorry. I don't -I can't, I can't think right- -Sasuke!- -now."

Castor isn't breathing, his whole body rocking on shaky legs as he stands without probably meaning to. Then, in one breathless move, his legs give out from under him.

Jazz, thankfully, is there to catch him-- though a little awkwardly as his hands scramble to find purchase against his sides. Getting them both sturdy, the musician keeps them standing and together, thankful touching isn't an issue right now.

"Fuck, sorry," Cas squeaks out, wincing and green all to terrified. Jazz hates it. He hates how scared his god is. "I'm sorry, just- -in Eden- -let me grab my medicine--"

"You have to take m-medicine?" Jazz asks, not having known that "Should I-- can I grab it for you?"

Sighing, the celestial growls out, "Please, they're in the top- -top, top, top- -drawer."

Finding it quickly once Jazz makes sure Castor's legs won't give out on him again, he stays with him as he ends up having to take three to get his anxiety under control, both of them migrating to the bed where they end up side by side and softly talking to one another.

The star was on his stomach, arms tightly wrapped around one of Jazz's forearms as he played with his fingers, the musician's other hand running gently up and down Cas' back.

"Thanks," The god tells him though he doesn't know what it's for. "I know that gets annoying." Castor squeezes his eyes shut, a burning olive of self-hate thriving through the cracks of his fear and anger as it takes root. "I didn't mean to stop the conversation."

"Everything that needed to be said was," Jazz is quick to reassure, hand lightly pulling at his wrist to bring the still panicky celestial towards him. "Including cuddles."

Cuddles are proven to help with anxiety.

He knows, he did the research.

"Can I cuddle with you now?" Castor asked. Jazz's eyes traced the curve of his mouth, then the sad sight of his tear-stained cheeks. "Until Vivianna or Circe drags us out of here? After that, it's okay if we don't have our nightly ones. I'll probably pass out before we could even get a movie started."

"We don't need movies to cuddle." The musician scoffs.

He is willing to cuddle whenever cuddles would be freely given to him by the celestial.

Tugging Castor closer, the celestial nods as buries his face into his chest, clutching onto the leather jacket around Jazz and he leans in more. He tells the musician, "You look good in this, and your piercings."

Jazz hums in reply, "I like wearing them."

"You should do it more often then."

"Mhm."

He definitely will be. He likes how it feels to kiss his God with his snake bites in.

They laugh together, chest to chest and pressed close and safe and warm until Noelle bangs on the door, "Cassie! Get your mesh-clas ass to the club so we can have a dance battle!"

"I'd win," Castor tells him, rubbing his tired eyes with now more content, seafoam and sunflower colors to his song. Yawning, he presses a soft kiss to the celestial's forehead, wanting him to know they were okay. "I've watched White Chicks like, a thousand times."

Jazz laughs, happy to know that his God was, for the moment, okay.

And still as sassy as ever.