Alone at Last.

What was the time again? Rèmy had departed from his humble abode at maybe seven or eight that night, leaving his ward to the dishes from the meal he had cooked for both of them. He seemed greatly displeased, but Rèmy could not tell if that was because he did not want to wash the dishes or if he did not want him to go out. Sadly for Jeremy, Rèmy was an unstoppable force when it came to wine and women and he was not going to muddle around trying to figure out what was wrong. Teenagers were prone to mood swings anyway, oui? Eh bien...C'est la vie. He was a Spy, not some social working teacher. He had nodded at the Boy as he left him to his own devices but seemed to be recieving the cold shoulder.

In any case, the time had passed quickly. Rèmy had drunk more wine than he should care to remember and had flirted with a pleasing number of fine women. Not to mention the snippets of conversations he heard, full of juicy details and information. Really, if you want information, all you need to do is put a drink in a man's hand. Not Rèmy of course. He could hold a drink. A few drinks even, and still keep his lips sealed. It had gotten fairly late by the time things were winding down and people were starting to leave. Rèmy said his farewells to a red lipped woman in a very tight dress and began to head back to his apartment, hoping Jeremy had not "accidentally" broken something in his foul mood.

He could still smell the sweet tingle of the woman's perfume on him as he fumbled for his keys, the lock to his apartment becoming some sort of intricate puzzle in his slightly drunken state. He slipped in the door and removed his jacket, hanging it on a hook and shutting the door and locking it with a soft click. He looked around the room, wondering if Jeremy had gone to sleep yet.

Jeremy hated it when his 'father' went out at night. If it was for something relating to work, the teen would've been significantly more understanding when the man took his leave after their meals, but the stench of women's perfume combined with the copious amounts of alcohol he could smell coming of off his guardian reminded Jeremy too much of the pathetic jerks his mother used to bring home when he was still a young child. He'd never gotten to know those men, but he absolutely despised each and every one of them. His mother, after these 'gentlemen' left, never seemed able to be happy until she found another man to take his place. Between men though, she always did her best to care for them both, and she would always smile at him and say "Everything will be okay, darling. We're doing just fine just you and me, aren't we? You'll always be mama's special man." Jeremy wasn't stupid. He could tell how much his Ma missed her deceased husband, and that it was only a matter of time before that grief would kill her.

That's why, whenever Jeremy saw Rémy return with the scent of a different woman each night, his anger always grew because he couldn't stop thinking of his mother's suffering back when she was alone: those men who had undoubtedly showered his ma with sweet kisses and tender words, giving her a night to hope that maybe she'd find another love in her life before abandoning her as if she were nothing more than a public restroom in a place they'd never think to visit again. Those bastards killed his ma, and he couldn't stop himself from projecting that image onto his guardian whenever he came home looking inebriated and way too satisfied with his night's activities.

Spread out to lie on the couch in the next room over, Jeremy was just resting his eyes with his arms curled beneath his head when he heard the creak of the front door opening. The room was dimly lit by the lamp sitting on the table next to him, so all Jeremy could see once he turned his head was Rémy's silhouette. "About time ya got home, pops."

Rèmy turned to seek out the source of the noise, finding Jeremy stretched out on the couch looking rather content. He cleared his throat as he closed the distance between them in long strides. Leaning over the back of the couch, he folded his arms over the top and stared down at Jeremy.

"Is it no' your bed time, Jeremy?" he asked with a wide smirk, leaning down to pinch at the boy's cheek. He hoped to God he was actually in a better mood now or he would be facing the wrath of the moody teenager. A wrath he had become all too familiar with lately. More often than not, Rèmy seemed to have a knack for irritating Jeremy. He was always rubbing him the wrong way with his snide remarks and his fussing over the boy's appearances and language. He couldn't help himself, he was nothing if not a perfectionist.

Jeremy assumed the other's vision was as impaired as his own by the dim lamplight, as the other surely would've backed off if he had noticed the glowering look on the teen's face. Before his guardian's hand could even touch him, it was roughly swatted away by one of Jeremy's own. "Isn't it way past yours, dad?" He very nearly spat out the title, his tone practically scathing as if it were a reminder of what the other man was supposed to be. Jeremy never had any proper father figure for most of his life, so he never intended to give anyone the title. That is, until he'd gotten so close Rémy and had now come to hold the man in high regards. However, with the man acting like one of the many playboys he'd seen and despised back when it had been just him and his mother, it made a war between his love for his guardian and his hatred for such flirtatious men rage within him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

The smile from his face disappeared in an instant as he came closer to Jeremy, noticing the glowering expression on his face. He should have known he would not be in the clear, Jeremy was as moody as a pregnant woman. Sadly, he did not seem to crave any sort of food that he could bring home and distract him with, or at least, he would often eat and snark at him at the same time. He was talented like that.

He rubbed at his hand gingerly and mockingly pouted a little at Jeremy. Acting like a kicked puppy, he answered in a hurt voice. "Oh, I suppose I lost track of ti- Language!" It was his turn to look angry. Jeremy had a foul mouth but Rémy still cringed everytime he used those kinds of words when speaking to him. However, countless sharp smacks on the shoulder and verbal warnings seemed to have little effect on his wording. Though, sometimes he would flinch after he realised Rémy was staring him down. Rémy cared deeply for the strange, wayward boy that he had taken in on a whim, but he felt the need to preen him to perfection. He fussed over so many things it was a wonder the boy had not stormed out on him, never to return.

He tutted softly and kept a stern expression on his face, not wanting to be bullied by his own ward. "I was out. Zat is all you need to know, young man."

As was usual when it came to Rémy's attempts to clean up his vocabulary, Jeremy was unaffected as he continued on in his scathingly judgmental tone. "Was she any good? You sure as hell seemed in a great mood when ya came in, so she must'a been." It was strange. Jeremy knew how to treat a woman thanks to his mother, and to some extent, even Rémy had reinforced many of those lessons. However, watching his mother let herself be used by those losers and seeing Rémy act the womanizer to every female in the area left the boy with a very ill opinion of flirtatious actions between any man and an innocent woman.

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate playboys, Pa?" Jeremy's voice was unnaturally calm. Usually, arguments with him ended up in shouting matches, so his level-headed tone should have been more than a decent hint that this was something much different from the petty fights they'd had before.

Now, this was becoming less of a fight about Rémy's late arrival home and more about something else. Yes, Rémy was a flirt and perhaps a bit of a player. However, he never lead women on. He made sure they understood that he was not a man to marry, or a man to expect anything short of some scattered one night stands out of. He was polite and charming and made it his job to ensure that his lady of the evening was enjoying herself as much as he was. He did not think he used women, especially not when they both seemed to enjoy it. He was positive he appeared to be a womaniser, but he prefered to think of himself as a man who could find the beauty in any person.

What bothered him was that he could not figure out why this was bothering Jeremy. He gave him a curious look, leaning over the couch a little more. He squints, trying to remember if Jeremy had brought it up in a previous conversation. Nothing was ringing a bell. "Non. I do no' recall 'aving zis conversation, Jeremy." The tone sent the faintest of shivers up his spine. It was a rare moment when Jeremy would be so chillingly serious with his guardian. Rémy found it very unsettling.

A chilling smile worked its way through the eerie calm of Jeremy's face as he leaned up on his elbows on the couch. "I hate guys like that because they're one'a the reasons my Ma ain't around anymore." One of Jeremy's hands shot up and grabbed his guardian by his necktie, yanking downward to cause the man to topple over the edge of the couch and sprawl onto him. He grunted a little from the extra weight, but his grip didn't provide any slack as he tugged at the silky fabric again to pull Rémy's face uncomfortably close to his own. The two of them were practically nose to nose as Jeremy stared coldly into the other's eyes. "You're my dad, right? You're supposed to be focusing on raising me, not chasing the skirts like some horny teenager all over the fucking town."

Rémy gave Jeremy an impassive look as he smiled, he furrowed his eyebrows when he brought up his Mother. Is this what this is about? He opened his mouth to ask futher questions but snapped it shut as Jeremy's hand reached for his necktie.

"What are y--" he exclaimed and sputtered as he was yanked. "Oof--" He grunted as he fell onto the boy. That sort of hurt. What in God's name was that meant to prove? He began to shift to sit up but found himself being jerked forward by that damn necktie. He hardened his gaze as he looked down at Jeremy. He quirked an eyebrow questioningly as he spoke.

A small smile played on his lips, not realising just how serious Jeremy was about this. "Jeremy, if you wanted more of my time, you jus' 'ad to ask." He decided not to get into another arguement about liking women for company. "You are precious to me, oui, but you are a big boy now. I sink it would be counter productive for me to fuss over you all ze time, oui?"

Though his gaze never wavered, Jeremy’s head tilted downward as his other hand slid up to grip the back of Rémy’s neck. His touch was light, but the rigidity of his arm suggested that his guardian wouldn’t be wiggling his way out of his hold any time soon. “I did ask before. Almost every freaking night after dinner, but I guess you never noticed when sex and alcohol was on your mind.”

Only too clearly did Jeremy remember the failed attempts at giving his father the silent treatment, or his flat out yelling at the man. Each thought unsaid, each loudly spoken word skirting close to the timid request for the Frenchman to stay, but keeping far enough away to avoid revealing his childish selfishness of wanting the other around. Rémy was a spy. He should have been able to read the numerous hints the boy had laid out early on, but now… Those built up feelings of neglect, warranted or not, were sending Jeremy over the edge with little hope of salvation.

“You’re right. I’m old enough that I’m not your ward or someone else’s responsibility anymore, I get it.” The look of genuine hurt and the almost-tears that seemed close to streaking down the young man’s cheeks mourned the fact that his more care-free days as a boy had passed him so quickly, and with so little to remember it by. Since living with Rémy, he’d had high hopes of getting those days back, but from the other man’s words, it just wasn’t meant to be. He’d already become an adult a long time ago, and the tears of a lost childhood had died alongside his dearly departed mother.

However grown up he may be, the attention-starved creature that Jeremy was still would not let the man he trusted most to lead himself into ruin by visiting bars every night with wenches who would all too willingly throw themselves at his adoptive father. At least, that was his reasoning accompanying his next proposition. “But since I’m not your kid anymore, I can do those adult things you like doing with women with you instead. I’ll definitely be a thousand times better than any stupid girl you see in a bar.”

Rémy sputtered once again and shuddered at the younger man's touch. This was a long time coming and the guilt was hitting him like a ton of bricks. His intention was never to make Jeremy feel so unwanted. He adored the boy, even loved him with all of his heart. There was nobody in his life he trusted as much as he trusted Jeremy. It killed him to think that he felt the slightest bit rejected. The guilt weighed down in his stomach as he brought up booze and women again. He tightened his lips as he looked down at the boy. It was really no excuse to say that they were his vice, but it was true.

His heart almost shattered at the tear jerking look Jeremy gave him. He had almost forgotten how difficult growing up was, especially in times like these. He was begining to feel as though he had failed him as a guardian. Damn it-- as a Father. He was meant to feel at home with Rémy. He was meant to feel loved and wanted, and here he was pouring his heart out about feeling abandoned.

Though... this was a little strange. Was it necessary to pull him down on top of him? Was that his way of being threatening? Was it a new fighting technique he was unaware of? He gave Jeremy a confused look then simpered a little, trying to comfort him. "Oh, Jeremy.." He started but paused as he saw the other's expression change.

Honestly, his expression was nothing short of horrified at Jeremy's suggestion. While they weren't blood related, he still regarded Jeremy as something of a son and saw him only as that. Was he really suggesting...that he should sleep with his son? "W-what are you implying, Jeremy?" He asked in a soft voice, praying that he had misheard him.

"I'm sayin' you don't have to fuck around with all those other women anymore when you've got me." As he spoke, the hand on Rémy's neck slackened and slid lower on his spine while the other snaked up to join it. Then, with both wrapped snugly around Rémy's waist, Jeremy gently pulled his slack-jawed guardian down to press their bodies together in a way that was so tender, so suggestive, that there was absolutely no possible way for the other to think of it as anything else except as a disturbingly blatant flirtation coming from the boy he'd raised and loved as a son.

Worst of all, the boy's torment didn't stop there as he leaned up to affectionately nuzzle his guardian's cheek while murmuring softly into his ear. "None'a those girls know what you're really like, or give two shits about you like I do. Hell, that's really the only reason I didn't pack up and ditch you years ago! Of all the people in this fucked up world, I've only got you, and you've only got me you can trust enough to keep all your dirty little tricks and secrets. You know it, and I know it..." He pressed a quick kiss high on the other's cheek before continuing. "So why not do it with someone who actually knows and cares about you?"

It all made perfect sense in Jeremy's mind. In Rémy's line of work, a woman was weak and could easily be used as a point of vulnerability to get to the man and bring the spy down. If ever there was a woman who could defend herself against the enemies Rémy had, then she would have to be just as dangerous, and possibly an even bigger threat if she ever were to turn on him. Much too risky. With Jeremy, he'd grown up with all the smarts to survive for as long as he needed out on the streets, he was well educated by his Uncle Pat in the ways of the dangerous underground world, and he was raised and nurtured to have the same keen senses and the ability to conceal and defend himself as well as his guardian ever could. All this coupled with the fact that there was no doubting where his loyalties lay in regards to Rémy made Jeremy the absolute perfect match for his beloved guardian. It just all made sense.

Rémy shifted in Jeremy's arms, he wasn't sure if his eyes could get any wider, but that was not his concern as he scrambled to back out of Jeremy's arms. His movements were clumsy against Jeremy's grip. After all, he was a strong young man, and Rémy was more than a little bit tipsy. However, he was not intoxicated enough to toy with Jeremy's plan. He wanted out. If he could convince Jeremy to stop then perhaps their relationship could be salvaged.

He jerked backwards as Jeremy nuzzled him, gritting his teeth as his body shivered in reaction to it. He grimaced down at the boy as he tried to justify his actions. He cringed as the kiss was planted on his cheek and shut an eye, shaking his head. "No...Jeremy.." He started slowly, feeling as though he lost a huge amount of eloquence. "Zis is...no'....'ow it works..." Of course, he couldn't imagine being sexually attracted to the boy he had raised from such an innocent age. He was a fine young man, very attractive and he had an addictive smile. Rémy loved to cuddle him and preen him, but to fuck him....it seemed like a forgein idea that he would never become familiar with.

What Jeremy did not seem to understand, and what Rémy did not want him to understand, was that sex was something he liked to keep far, far away from his work. Not something that went hand in hand with it.