tutor me? - jaafar jackson
synopsis: when your grades continue to tank in your econometrics class, your hopes for improvement are dependent on a long-awaited study session with your crush, jermajesty. but when studying together goes sideways, you’re left with the next best option: hopeful actor and older brother to jermajesty, jaafar jackson.
word count: 9k (she's longgg)
pairing: jaafar jackson x f!reader (pre-michael and grad school au 😼)
a/n: this is NOT going to become a threesome type of thing AT ALL🤣 just have to preface with that. also the way i was inspired to write this because of this tweet LMAO. enjoy!
grades in grad school don’t really matter, right?
at least that’s what you tried to affirm to yourself as your professor handed you back your econometrics midterm.
you figured this course was the bane of every student at your institution’s existence. yet, as you grasped at the overly-saturated three-page midterm like a squeezy toy, your classmate’s voices echoed around you in celebration and glee.
the exam was weightless in mass but substantiated by the two numbers loosely packed together at the top right of the corner.
you visualized yourself being at the bottom of a tunnel looking up, the shadow of the multiple regression model being cast down on you. taunting you. like your only chance of escape was finding the plausibility of a gauss-markov assumption.
you were starting to believe that this class being a requirement for an international law degree was a wicked joke that your institution was playing on you specifically to test your willpower.
as you continued to mentally plunge down your hole of self-deprecation, an all too familiar voice brought you back to your senses.
by the time your ears had processed who the voice belonging to, you couldn’t control the way your mouth fell agape just a smidge. your eyes widened in mental preparation for the only man who could distract from your perpetual academic doom.
calling him a friend would definitely be an overstatement. yet for ephemeral moments such as this one, where his hazel eyes glanced at your own for a few seconds, it felt safe to at least label the dynamic as something more than colleagues.
in an environment like this one, where every subpar grade felt like a punch to the gut, having a small classroom crush only felt fitting. not just to get through drawn-out lectures on topics that had little to nothing to do with your professional interests, but for the simple pleasure of having a life outside of econometric theories.
you’d publicly gawked at the 6’0 curly-headed daydream of a man for months now, with your program only starting in august. you’d had two classes with him since then, always managing to snag the seat closest to him that, over a few weeks, eventually became yours. yet, even into the new semester, you could never speak to him in more than 30-minute increments. both because of your diminishing willpower under his gaze and your conflicting schedules.
“you good?” you heard the resonant voice interrupting your whirlpool of thoughts once again.
“w-what?” your eyes widened in realization that you left him in silence for at least a solid minute. you awkwardly shuffled in your seat to look him in the eyes, hoping to grasp at whatever composure you had left.
“i asked how you did on the test?”
uncontrollably, your eyes fell to his lips when he spoke. every time. like you were in a trance that you didn’t want to be unhypnotized from. you prayed he didn’t notice.
you sighed dramatically, hoping to hide the blush growing on your cheeks. you hid your head in your hands as you prepared to admit another defeat. “ughhh not good.” you gulped before mumbling your grade, “i got a 66.”
an uneasy pause followed coupled with the shifting of his feet underneath the desk. he cleared his throat before lowering his head to get closer to you.
“hey, that’s not completely awful,” jermajesty quietly replied, not wanting to air out your grade to the entire class. you didn’t even feel the punch to the gut of being reminded of the academic circumstances when he spoke to you like this. gentle, like he genuinely was worried that you were stressed about this.
your hands fell to reveal your deadpan expression, eliciting a hearty chuckle from him. you could never verbalize how much that warmed your chest to hear. yet, if your physical response to it was anything to go by, it was like color being brought to a black-and-white film.
a beat of silence passed between the two of you as the echoes of your classmate’s conversations surrounded you.
“what about you?” you broke the silence.
a shy smile took over his face as he pulled the test closer to his side of the desk. your eyes narrowed in suspicion and bewilderment at his sly movements. you inched forward slightly to analyze him.
“i don’t want to say,” he shyly admitted.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. was he being…humble? or was he also embarrassed by being below the class percentile?
you knew that he was above average in the class, always managing to score increasingly well on these exams while you sat on the verge of barely passing and complete academic implosion.
this 66 had actually been one of your better grades, if you could stomach that fact.
you sarcastically crossed your arms on top of your chest. “jermajesty, what did you get on the damn test?”
he playfully rolled his eyes, now pushing the test against the top of his desk in your direction. he quickly distracted himself by fidgeting with the eraser top of the mechanical pencil on his desk. you quickly took the exam into your palms, your eyes scanning the page for a grade before it appeared in the top-right corner.
your jaw dropped. no way he was keeping this from you while you were wallowing away in your own academic despair. your eyes jumped from the top of his paper to meet his eyes, reaching a flow state of vacillation between the arduous exam and his chestnut eyes.
“now how the hell were you able to do that?” you began, your eyes still skimming over the contents of the first page. significantly fewer red markings, you noticed. “and why were you going to hide this from me? this is amazing jer!”
in your astonishment, you threw out a nickname only reserved for his close friends and family. you mentally face-palmed at the realization, hoping he didn’t notice. your hands fisted around the corners of the paper slightly, begging that he didn’t catch on. you really had to get better at hiding these feelings for real.
“i just, didn’t want to make you feel worse for-“ he paused, scanning over your face before adding salt to the wound. “-your grade.”
he scratched at the back of his neck in anticipation of another wincing expression from you. despite the second verbal reminder today that you were actually below par in this class, your cheeks warmed. not him caring about your feelings…
in a sheer attempt at keeping composure, your face morphed into fabricated shock that he insinuated you would be jealous at his accomplishments. “me? i would never do that.”
he paused, eyes narrowing at you while waiting for you to own up to your short-temperament.
“aight fine,” you admitted, which earned you another laugh from the sexy, econometrics prodigy. “but for real, this is really impressive.”
“thanks,” he muttered, now feeling suddenly shy about his grade. he leaned to his side to pack up his backpack upon realizing that the professor had wrapped up class for the day. at least you were spared from another lesson after mourning your failed exam.
you continued to eye both exams side by side, further examining the deficit in red markings that had become almost blinding to you. you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself at the fact that he was so sheepish to admit that he didn’t need a curve to do well in the class.
letting out a hushed sigh, you followed suit and packed your own bag. you didn’t spare the exam from your harsh movements as it crumpled upon entry. you secretly wish you could set it ablaze in front of the school in the middle of the night, laughing maniacally while adding more exams and assignments from this dumbass class into the pit.
“i really need to lock in for this class, it’s actually beating my ass,” you mindlessly quipped, zipping the last compartment of your backpack.
“honestly same,” jermajesty started. “this grade ain’t gonna matter when the final comes around.”
you both simultaneously stood from your desks, pushing the seats back underneath it. you followed behind him as you both eventually made your way out of the classroom, with him holding the door open for you.
what a gentleman, you internally swooned.
you muttered a quick thanks as you quickened your pace, now side by side. you internally ruminated over any way that you could guide the conversation away from an impending awkward silence. you chose to relish in the misery of the previous topic.
“i know that professors always say that studying with other people can really help. but i always either end up getting too distracted or feeling so confused that i forget what class we’re studying for.”
jermajesty let out a hearty chuckle at your confession. again, at the expense of your own sanity, you felt your cheeks warm at his response. you both rounded the corner before arriving at the elevator a few seconds later.
“well, maybe you’re just studying with the wrong people,” he offered, pressing the button to go down. he slid back to the spot right next to you, eyes trained ahead on the elevator doors.
“yeah?” you chuckled, looking up at him from where he stood. he nodded, a soft smile formed on his lips as he kept his eyes trained ahead. “you’re probably right. either nia vents about needing a prequel to sinners or alyssa drags out theories that have nothing to do with the lesson.”
jermajesty’s shoulders shook in laughter. you tore your eyes away from him and refocused on the wall in front of you, hearing the elevator trekking to your floor beyond the doors.
the elevator closest to you beeped loudly, signaling the doors were to open. after a moment, the doors opened and you both stepped inside, jermajesty following your lead and eventually making his way to your side once again.
“well shit, my friends aren’t any better,” he began, eyes once again trained on the closed doors ahead. “we can’t even study an hour without someone choosing to stream the cavs game over reviewing panel data models.”
you cackled, your shoulders slightly hunched over at the thought of jermajesty eyebrows deep into a textbook while his friends surrounded him in distraction. you looked up at him to find him staring at you with a slightly puzzled expression, his own laughter quickly subsiding. you looked away and cleared your throat to compensate for the awkwardness.
calm yourself girl, damn.
a beat passed of a now uneasy silence. in your periphery, jermajesty slipped his hand into his pocket and whipped out his phone.
quick, think of another way to pass the silence.
“at this rate it’s giving we should just study together,” you joked, pausing immediately after the words escaped you. what you meant to be a playful quip at your unreliable study sessions with your friends made you realize just how idiotic your suggestion was.
why the fuck did you say that?
you and jermajesty…together. alone. studying mathematical model specification. while he’d mellow in time series analysis charts, you’d hopelessly mull over the way his dark curls cascaded down his forehead at the perfect angle. you’d be running a personal audit of the curvature of his lips, running an internal risk assessment of how plausible it’d be for your friendship to morph into a relationship by the end of the night.
this was outrageous. you were exceptionally overthinking this. of course you were, it was him for crying out loud. you couldn’t be normal about him even if you were paid by your school to do so.
your mental spiral was interrupted by the soft murmur of the charming man at your side. “that’s not a bad idea actually.”
you looked up at him again, eyes blown wide at his words. he still mindlessly scrolled on his phone, completely oblivious to the state of bewilderment he left you in with those six words. you glanced slightly above his head to the elevator floor indicator. you were almost at the ground floor.
quick! think of how to ask if he’s serious without sounding like a goof…
well, that wasn’t smooth at all.
your eyes were still pinned to the side of his head. his eyes didn’t budge from his screen.
he didn’t speak for a few seconds, seemingly lost in whatever post he’d stumbled upon on his phone. your hands were practically clammy while you waited for any sign of interest from him in this conversation.
you tried to regain his attention in this incredibly dire conversation. “jermajesty-"
“yeah, i’m down. meet me at my place saturday. i’ll text you,” he offered, now looking up from his phone to give you a small smile like a man making a business deal.
after a few seconds, the elevator dinged and the doors opened hastily. a crowd of students had appeared at the entrance, teemingly waiting for you both to exit. jermajesty stepped ahead of you without looking up from his phone. you didn’t follow behind him, instead opting to remain in the elevator as you went through full-fledged shock.
he didn’t wait for a response nor notice that you were no longer walking beside him.
you didn’t — no, couldn’t, conjure up a response to what had just happened. your mouth fell open slightly at the casual plan that was just created.
the swarm of students pushed past you onto the elevator as you stayed stuck at the entrance.
there’s no way this is happening…
if you knocked on the back of a door with the palm of your hand, did that come off as casual?
two whole minutes have passed of you deliberating how to deliver the most nonchalant, unassuming knock to his door. jermajesty’s door.
that you were about to enter. to study.
you’re pretty sure you could count every millimeter of the door’s length given how long you’ve perused it. seconds passed by where anxiously glancing over it’s sheeny reflection, turned into a one-on-one pep talk with yourself against its mahogany backdrop.
you were entirely too anxious for such a casual couple-hour hangout. perhaps it was seeing jermajesty in such a personal environment stripped away from the sterile lighting of a classroom. or maybe it was seeing him in something entirely too casual yet bewitching that made you fear that you’d drool all over your grid sheets.
aside from cordial interactions and exam debriefs, you’d never spent alone time with him before. real time alone. where conversations could drift to personal anecdotes about his family and his life before grad school.
excluding the overall privacy of a one-on-one session together, you’d hoped your white cropped-tube top and black maxi skirt would be appealing enough to keep his eyes on you. or, at the very least, ogle at you for a second longer than usual. if not the fit, than the way your dark curls were slicked back into a shiny half-up half-down look.
you sucked in a deep breath, holding it in your throat and closing your eyes. you could handle this. you could be chill. just knock on the damn door.
by the time you opened your eyes and raised your hand to finally knock, you heard his voice echo from the other side of the door. almost as if he was getting closer to it…
you took a few steps back, hoping to come off like you just arrived. the footsteps and voices got increasingly louder as you fixed a few curls and awkwardly fixed the placement of your feet.
the door opened quickly to reveal jermajesty with his head turned away from you, seemingly not noticing your presence. “yeah i’m just gonna throw this out and be-"
he cut himself off, eyes widening to find you standing there with a clumsy smile adorning your face. “hey?’ he asked in an inquisitive tone. “how long have you been standing there?”
“oh me? i uh-" you started, your face contorting into fake contemplation. “i just got here.”
you looked over his figure, noting the garbage bag in his left hand and his phone in the other. he wore a comfortable-looking grey sweatsuit with his curls slightly loose. how sexy and domestic he looked, you thought to yourself.
by the time you’d drawn your eyes back to his own, you caught the final few seconds of him raking over your own body. perfect.
“well um-" he looked behind him back into the apartment. “i’m just gonna go throw this out downstairs. but please feel free to go in and get comfortable. we’re sitting at the dining table to study.”
before you could mutter a response, he skipped his way down the stairs to where the garbage shoot supposedly was.
as quickly as you’d processed his words, you heard voices echoing from inside the apartment. you wiped your hand nervously on the front of your skirt, hoping to making sense of the situation.
weren’t you supposed to be the only person here? did he have family staying over or something?
as curiosity ached at the back of your mind, you naturally led yourself into the space, afraid of being caught outside once more.
you shut the door softly behind you, gently sliding your shoes off and leaving them and your backpack at the side of the entrance.
you took in your surroundings, taking in the deeply-saturated interior that jermajesty had in his apartment. next to the entrance of the apartment was a small living room, decorated with a large midnight black couch and table. a large buffet lamp stood in the corner and produced a comfortable yellow hue over the space, illuminating the walls covered in old r&b and jazz vinyls.
as a vinyl collector yourself, the sight could’ve brought a tear to your eyes if you were anywhere else. the walls were both heartwarming from the musical homage and gratifying that your crush was also a music fanatic just like you. you never want to give a man credit, but it was actually a nice setup that he had. it was a place that you could see yourself getting comfortable in very soon.
you wondered what the rest of the apartment looked like…
you inched forward into the living room to get a closer look at the vinyls. leaning against the arm of the couch, you took in the vast display of colors and artists.
underground, theolonious monk.
the first family of soul, the five stairsteps.
in a romantic mood, sarah vaughan.
mr. soul, sam cooke…SAM COOKE?!
your heart softened immediately. it was like a record player had begun spinning in your mind, your ears immediately being clouded with the melodic, silky voice of “i wish you love.” memories instantaneously flooded your mind of your parents crooning in the kitchen while you and your sister watched in adoration. in hope for a love like theirs.
not your man is fine AND has good taste.
as you brought your fingertips to lightly graze over the plastic of the vinyl cover, you were broken from your euphonious trance by the sound of laughter coming from another room. the laughter of a woman.
what the hell is going on? who the hell is here?
you quickly gathered yourself, pushing off the arm of the couch and centering yourself on your feet. you hastily made your way to the entrance again to retrieve your backpack, now trekking down the dimmed hallway to find the source of the noise.
you were too distracted to notice the walls adorned with classic paintings and canvases of wildflowers and misty lakes. you probably would’ve appreciated it more if you weren’t so lost in thought.
by the time you got to the end of what felt like a perpetual tube, your eyes fell to the tabletop covered in scattered notebooks and mathematical utensils. you noticed the numerous doodled pages of what could only be keynesian theories and differential calculus.
you scanned over the notebooks before landing on a manicured hand with a pink mechanical pencil attached. your eyes widened slightly at that before looking up further and being met by the eyes of the woman whose hand it was attached to.
you failed to notice the unbearable silence that took over the room when you entered. it was only a few seconds later that you looked around and registered the over five pairs of eyes looking back at you in confusion.
your mouth opened as if to speak, but you could only let out sputtered breaths. by the time you actually managed to form a coherent thought, you felt a presence come up behind you, effectively taking all 10 eyes off of you.
“hey guys,“ you heard jermajesty from behind you.
he quickly introduced you to everyone before reciting their names back to you for familiarity. from what you could retain, jada held the pink pencil, anna and maria sat to her left, and one of the guys was named raymond.
but you were barely listening. in fact, you were dumbfounded.
because what you had thought was an exclusive study date was somehow quintupled, unbeknownst to you. the seats that should’ve been filled by two bodies were occupied by multiple. the laughter that was supposed to be shared by you two now reverberated off the walls by multiple voices. the surrounding table was filled with forgotten sweaters and strewn papers when it should’ve been occupied by two distinctly different study setups.
to say you were disappointed would definitely be an embellishment to an already disconcerting and atrocious situation.
you murmured a quick “nice to meet you guys” before their attention was quickly refocused back on each other. you turned back to look at jermajesty, hushedly speaking below your breath.
“hey, i thought that we-“
“why don’t you take a seat next to jada?” he quickly cut you off, gesturing to the empty seat next to the girl with the perfectly manicured fingertips. his face was contorted into the fabricated generosity that a cashier gave to a customer in the last ten minutes of a shift.
he was being pulled by one of the guys whose name you couldn’t recall before you could utter a response.
you didn’t know what you were more disgruntled by: the audacity to cut you off, the presumption that you wanted to sit beside anyone other than him, or the sheer gall of the situation entirely.
you were quick to realize that you were now the only person standing awkwardly at the entrance of the room. you hastily found yourself maneuvering through the overloaded room and slipping into the empty spot next to jada. you threw her a timid smile before leaning over to retrieve your notebooks from your bag.
you felt tears brimming at your waterline faster than you could control it. the midterm exam came quickly to view at the depths of your bag, but you weren’t ready to pull it out just yet. you opened different sections of the bag now, looking for any distraction to keep from crying in front of all of these people.
the voices around you quickly muffled into an audible haze that only left you overstimulated and desolate. you swiftly tried to plan out your escape.
could you blame it on a sudden sickness? maybe you could text nia and she could call frantically saying she had a date-related emergency?
or… you could thug it out and actually learn something from the cram session. maybe staying wouldn’t be the worst thing? if you didn’t do it to develop a more intimate dynamic with jermajesty, then you’d do it for yourself. at least to improve your score by a few points…
an hour had already passed, and you didn’t know what was worse: the study-side discourse having little to nothing to do with classical economics or the drawn-out disappointment of jermjaesty’s betrayal.
you barely uttered a word to him the entire hour you'd been there. shit, you hadn’t even spoken up more than five times to the table at large as you perused your midterm for the third time tonight. you soon realized there was nothing you could’ve learned during this session that you couldn’t have absorbed through a quick khan academy debrief.
this “study date” was growing to feel more and more useless as the conversations drifted from love island debates to shit-talking professors whose classes you’d never even heard of. there was nothing more that you craved in this very moment than a tub of jeni’s birthday cake ice cream and your own solitude. privacy to wallow in your own self-despair and mortification at your wishful thinking.
because why would jermajesty ever want you? it was a fanatical desire that only teetered on the cusp of reality when he looked at you for a second longer than normal. a figment of your imagination that was only temporarily actualized when he’d scan your body beyond your face and make you feel like you were all that mattered to him.
yet, just like all previous interactions before today, it ended there. where everything felt and was, in fact, normal and platonic.
because that’s all it could ever be.
the thought felt harrowing but strangely reassuring in the way that felt uncomfortable but familiar. like the heavy hesitation sitting in your chest when you know its time to outgrow someone, but the strange comfort of knowing that they’re still physically present.
even though they’re not emotionally yours.
see! these were thoughts you should be mulling over in your own bed. not in the discomfort of strangers in conversation that held no significance for you.
that thought alone was enough to convince you to leave.
you cleared your throat. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
you heard a few mumbled “ok’s” and hmm’s” of acknowledgment. you looked to jermajesty to see that he gave you a quick nod before returning to whatever conversation he was previously in.
he couldn’t even show you to the bathroom? wow…
you bit back a scoff while getting up from your seat and softly tucking it back underneath the dining room table. you quickly maneuvered through the crowded space before finding yourself in the very hallway that you had paced through just an hour before.
you walked further down the dimlit corridor in hopes of finding any room to seclude yourself in. after a few seconds of aimless strolling, you found a door left ajar that you could only deem the bathroom. that or jermajesty’s room that you would’ve ransacked in any other instance.
with the speed of light, you slid past the gap and into the bathroom, locking yourself in like a bird in a cage. you flicked the switch and looked in the reflection, only being met with a sorrowful, drained expression that somehow belonged to you.
your eyes were hooded, and your lips were slightly chapped from how long you spent gnawing on them like a pacifier. the hairs on the top of your head were slightly frayed while your blush had faded in a way that only you could’ve noticed.
this bathroom was the best escape plan you could’ve conjured up all day.
you quickly got to reapplying your lip gloss, then a touch of concealer, and then finally a splash of water to the top of your head to restore the “sleek” look that had fled the scene.
after a few minutes, you glanced over your reflection once again. definitely better. but you know what would do the trick? going home.
you sighed, the feeling of despondency once again consuming your body like paper being submerged by water. your eyes quickly scanned over the countertop to find the minimalist spread of basic toiletries sprawled across it.
toothpaste, mouthwash, toothbrushes, q-tips, soap.
wait… toothbrushes? plural?
so… did someone else live here with him? was it a girl?
were you about to scream? completely ravage the bathroom and shatter the mirror to finish it off? maniacally laugh at your own misery? you didn’t know which option sounded more appealing.
in fact, the best and unspoken option still remained… going home.
you sarcastically chuckled to yourself before reaching for the doorknob and heading out.
girl, you’re really over your head with this one, you thought to yourself. how could you even think-
you unintentionally cut yourself off by the aggressive slamming of the back of the door against something.
you heard a loud groan from the other side of the door. frantically, you ran to the opposite side of the apparently man-defeating wooden door. you were met with someone crouched over and groaning while grabbing at his head as if he’d been uppercut across the forehead.
“oh god!” you quietly shrieked, awkwardly leaning over him while trying to evaluate the damage and where you could help. “oh god, oh god, oh god,” you continued to lament out loud to yourself.
“yo, are you good?” you heard jermajesty yell from down the hallway, not even bothering to come check on the person.
“yeah,” the person beneath you shouted back, startling you just slightly at the depth of his voice. he didn’t sound like any of the guys who were sitting at the table with you previously. from voice alone, you didn’t recognize him at all, actually.
a beat of silence passed between you, awkwardly peering down at the crouched-over individual who sporadically groaned.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sor-" you paused. the man stood up from where he was previously huddled in pain, now gazing down at you in incredulity. “sorry?”
the man’s face was partially illuminated by the bathroom light you forgot to switch off. instead of being greeted with a pained expression that matched the previous groans, you were met with a satirical grin.
“sorry? it almost sounds like you don’t feel bad for clubbing me upside the head with a door.”
your jaw fell open just a fraction as you scrambled for a response.
“i really am sorry, i just-" you uncontrollably let out a giggle at the way he was looking at you. “how the hell was i supposed to know you were there?”
a wider smile broke out on the mystery man’s lips that weirdly caused your previous melancholy to dissipate. just slightly.
“maybe try to avoid swinging it at full speed next time?” he quipped, which caused you to erupt into laughter again. “maybe we can try that?”
you nodded through the chuckles, calming yourself down from the belly laugh that ripped through you. “i think i’m gonna work on my reflexes, actually. just trying to perfect my prowess you know.”
“hmm,” he hummed in response, a comfortable silence settling as he scanned your face briefly before looking you in the eyes.
his lips quirked into a sly smile as he looked downward at you.
you swiftly glanced north of his eyes to the slight perspiration on his forehead, and your face fell at the result.
“oh my gosh, you’re bleeding,” your voice was laced with concern now.
he brought his own fingers to dab at the thin layer of blood now dripping from the gash on his forehead. he didn’t even have to look at his fingers to recognize the liquid now slowly oozing from the wound.
“you don’t have to work on your prowess, i think you pretty much nailed it,” he ribbed.
you felt guilt slowly seeping into your chest again. you started fiddling with your fingers anxiously as you quickly contemplated what you could do. “i’m sorry. i’m so sor-"
“it’s ok, i’m just teasing,” he reasoned, all humor lost from his tone. his sarcastic smirk was quickly replaced with something peaceful and delicate, like he was trying to assuage you of any blame.
“do you know if jermajesty has a first aid kit or something? i don’t want you to get an infection.”
“i don’t know what jerm has, but i know i got one,” he responded. he slid past you and made his way into the bathroom.
jerm? how did he know him like that?
puzzled, you decided to investigate further and follow after him past the murderous device of a door.
you entered the bathroom once again, carefully closing the door behind you and leaning on it like a lifeline. your hands were tucked behind your back as you watched the man sift through one of the cabinets beneath the sink.
now that you were seeing him in a better light, you realized that you didn’t know who this guy was. he definitely wasn’t at the table with you all before and he most likely didn’t go to your school either.
so, you just enclosed yourself in the bathroom with a complete stranger.
a very…good-looking stranger.
one who was draped in a simple white t-shirt and black sweatpants but looked like he was prepared to stride on the red carpet if asked.
the man sifted through different items with the sort of familiarity that denoted he’d been here before. many times, probably. after a few seconds of rummaging through hair products and extra toiletries, he retrieved a white, unlabelled plastic box that you could only assume was a first aid kit.
he stood back to his full height, which, now that you got a good look at him, significantly towered over you. he had tanned skin that looked like he lived on the islands of fiji on a summer-time basis only. he also had dark curls that cascaded just to the middle of his forehead, with the exception of the space on the far right where he was now bleeding from.
he promptly unclasped the edges of the box, grabbing at the antiseptic, loose cloth, and way more bandages than necessary for a small soon-to-be scab. he leaned forward against the counter to get a closer look at himself in the mirror. he started treating the wound with the kind of precision that could only be replicated after an in-depth review of the pitt.
yet, his hands still shook as he dabbed lightly and flinched with every poke of alcohol to his skin. he could barely make it through five seconds with alcohol-to-skin contact. you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you watched him truly try his best for such an unserious wound while still acting as if he was awake during a surgery.
his eyes quickly shifted from focusing on his wound to your flushed cheeks as you failed to hide your amusement.
“is something funny to you about the injury that you caused?” he sassed, hand now hovering over his injury as he continued to look at you through the mirror.
you playfully rolled your eyes. “not the injury, but the one treating it. you’re acting like you’re performing a life-altering operation on yourself.”
he scoffed in response. “what, you think you can do better?”
“i mean, i used to work as a teacher. i’ve had my fair share of injuries that i’ve learned to treat,” you paused, eyes narrowing sarcastically on his reflection before continuing. “skillfully.”
the man took a step back away from the mirror and redirected his attention towards you. “is that so?”
he held the soaked cloth in your direction with expectant eyes. “you should use those skillful treatments and patch me up then.”
a laugh escaped your lips at the assumption that you were just going to follow his request. so why did you find yourself already swiping the cloth from his palm into your hand and inching closer to him to help?
the man was already leaning back against the countertop, lowering himself for your comfort. a teasing smile sat on his lips as he closed his eyes, almost bracing himself for the stinging sensation to return to his skin.
despite the teasing nature of it all, you took your role rather seriously. instead of immediately using the antiseptic cloth, you took another piece from the kit and soaked it in water, gently dabbing it against his warm skin. his eyes opened at the lack of twinging pain to his forehead.
“relax, i know what i’m doing,” you eased, now replacing the cloth soaked in water with the one doused in antiseptic. “now, take a deep breath.”
he seemed to believe you, immediately following your command and closing his eyes once again. you brought the antiseptic-soaked wipe to the wound, which caused him to hiss beneath you. after letting it sit for a moment, you removed it and immediately reached for the petroleum jelly that sat neatly tucked away in the kit.
his eyes remained closed as you backed away from him temporarily to take a swab of it on a new, clean piece of cloth. you returned to dab it softly on the outskirts of the now dry remnants of blood.
you unknowingly entered a flow state of administering treatment for the wound smaller than your pinky finger. you subconsciously began humming a familiar tune to yourself as you thoroughly smeared petroleum jelly across the wound.
you reached into the kit for the final piece of the puzzle: a bandaid. after unwrapping it from the packaging, you lightly placed it on top of the wound, now sealing the wound off from your inspecting eyes.
“all done,” you replied, absentmindedly now switching to clean up the litter on the surrounding countertop. in your periphery, you watched his eyes open slowly, adjusting to his surroundings again.
you were now side-by-side as he turned in place to face the mirror and examine the work you’d done on the surface of his skin. you continued to clean up the remnants of the “operation” unable to look at him in the reflection.
the only sound filling the space was the quiet rustle of bandaid wrappers and loose bottletops. after a few seconds of comfortable silence enveloping the space, he quietly interjected. “was that sam cooke?”
you paused your movements. “huh?”
“the song you were humming”
you glanced up from the countertop to meet his inquisitive eyes in the reflection of the mirror. you nodded before a subtle, mischievous grin settled on your lips. “you know which song?”
without missing a beat, he responded. “smoke rings.”
he must’ve caught the slight faltering of your face by the way a triumphant smile took over his face. “don’t test me about my sam cooke knowledge, because i’ll always prevail.”
you playfully scoffed, taking a step back to fully take in his newly displayed confidence. “is that so?”
now this was going to be interesting. you squinted your eyes in preparation for the bathroom-sponsored sam cooke contest. you crossed your arms on your chest as you thought about how to approach this.
you began reciting lyrics in a plain voice, not wanting to sing and give it away. well, not wanting to sing and embarrass yourself…
you wanted to start easy. “at first, i thought it was an infatuation but-"
you paused before thinking of the next lyric to throw at him. “you’re the apple of my eye, you’re cherry pie. and oh-“
“are you kidding? nothing can change this love.”
your eyes narrowed further as you thought of another song. something that could really stump him.
“you’ve left me to dream all alone, too real is this feeling of make believe,” you interrupted yourself, evaluating the bafflement on his face. you tried to throw him a bone now, adding a hum to your words. “too real when i feel what my heart can conceal, oh yes i’m the…”
you watched his face contort from confusion to embarrassing realization, a prideful smile taking over you as you knew he recognized the song last minute.
you continued the lyrics, a jubilant expression on your face as he begrudgingly followed suit. “i’m the great-”
“pretender,” he finished, playfully rolling his eyes when he sensed you were about to gloat.
you cackled to yourself in triumph as an embarrassed smile took over his lips. his head fell in faux shame as he let you take your moment to brag through longer-than-needed fits of laughter. he readjusted himself along the outskirt of the countertop, now facing the wall. he poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek to hold back from laughing at your hysterics.
“so i remain the ultimate sam cooke fan, ha!” you gloated in his face, playfully poking your finger to the side of his arm. damn, it was solid.
you nestled yourself comfortably on the ridge of the countertop, your body now facing the direction of the bathroom wall. your arms were pressed against one another, slightly. you felt the man beside you tilt his head in your direction before speaking up again.
“oh so that’s what this was? and here i was thinking we were just getting to know each other,” he smirked, arms crossed along what you could only assume was solid chest. your eyes drifted quickly before you felt a heat creep along the apple of your cheeks.
you didn’t know what to say, instead choosing to sit in the silence and warmth radiating from your bashfulness and his body next to yours. it was in that silence that a striking revelation dawned on you.
you didn’t even need to look at your phone to know that you’d spent a protracted amount of time in the restroom with the soothing presence of this stranger. instead of basking in the superfluity of unwanted company at the dining table, you were here. recounting sam cooke classics and patching unintended injuries to the man who looked like he could pass for a high-class model.
rather than gawking at jermajesty with the kind of attention that should honestly be redirected to quantifying economic phenomena, you were here.
was it bad that you enjoyed the last — however long you’d been enclosed in the washroom — with this complete stranger, as opposed to the company sitting just down the hallway? or rather, was it completely awful that you preferred this unconventional setting and singular conversation with this man as opposed to time spent with your own crush?
the sudden epiphany brought you more consolation than you’d wanted to admit to yourself. so instead of deconstructing your emotions, you chose to do what you did best. suppress them.
you broke the comfortable silence that had consumed you both once again. you looked up at him, taking in the glistening features on the side of his face. “so, who are you anyway?”
he guffawed at your bluntness. “is that how you normally ask people to introduce themselves to you?”
“hm, it’s something new i’m trying,” you teased.
he paused for dramatic effect, now gazing down at you and inching closer by a hair. your shoulders were practically bumping against each other at the proximity. “that’s a bold interrogation tactic against the owner of this apartment.”
you felt your breath catch in your throat.
before you could trail down another set of internal questioning and befuddlement, he continued. “but, since you asked me so nicely. i’m jaa-"
as you sat in a much-anticipated eagerness, the comfortable ambiance was soon disrupted. he was quickly cut off by the click of the bathroom door opening. you both jumped slightly at the unexpected intrusion. when you quickly tore your gaze away from the man, you were greeted by a much too-frazzled-looking jermajesty whose usually defined curls were tussled beyond recognition. before he could get a word out, he ceased all movements, locked in place with nothing but his expressive eyes to indicate how he was feeling.
his eyes bounced off your own before taking in the view at large. you nestled a little too close for his comfort next to the last person he was expecting. the corners of your lips pulled upwards for the first time all night, at least to his knowledge.
“bro, what the hell are you doing?!” jermajesty interrogated the man to your right. his attention was seemingly lost from you altogether, and now on getting to the bottom of why you both were suspiciously locked in such a confined space.
confined in a space so close together…
“just what? i’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes and you’re locked in here with my classmate?”
ouch. not even friend? way to kick my ass when i’m already down in the dirt.
“we were just talking, jerm,” the man reasoned.
jermajesty scoffed at that, the pure annoyance seeping from him like a radiator. “i don’t really give a shit. we’re in the middle of studying and you’re having -" he paused, hands gesturing to the two of you bunched together on the countertop. “-whatever moment this is.”
despite the argument seemingly being about your absense from the table, jermajesty barely looked at you. seems to be a trend tonight.
you felt guilt and discomfort starting to rip through your chest. you hadn’t meant to cause any drama today. in fact, all you’d wanted was a study date to turn into a makeout session against the wall.
was that so crazy to ask?
however this moment, of all things, was the last thing you expected. yet, the most unexpected moments are the best, right?
the two men continued to bicker whilst you stood in the middle like three peas in an uncomfortably squished pod. you had to find an escape, quickly.
“i’m sorry, i’m just going to go,” you awkwardly interjected into the bickering, drawing an uncomfortable silence across the space. you didn’t wait for a response before you languidly pushed past jermajesty’s shoulder and into the dimly lit hallway for the third time tonight.
“now look what you did?” you heard the man from the bathroom shout out. you didn’t care though. you quickly paced down the hallway back into the dining room where everyone else remained.
you didn’t register the tense silence that had enveloped the dining room when you reentered. nor did you care. you hastily reached for your belongings left at the chair from before, slinging it over your arm and muttering a "bye" before speedily walking to the front door. you slipped into your shoes once again and slammed the door behind you a little too loudly for your comfort.
you didn’t waste a beat, skipping down the stairs to the exit point of the building, your chest heaving at the rush of being able to depart from that impending predicament.
what the hell just happened?
as is the case in grad school, you only had your econometrics class once a week.
what once felt like a blessing to have to sit in the uncomfortable neutrals of your lecture hall just once a week now felt like a curse. you wished you could skip this class for the rest of the semester; you really did. but you knew that your grade was suffering beyond repair at this point, and adding an absence on top of that would only exacerbate your predicament further.
it was now wednesday. four days since the failed study attempt. four days since your once oddly gratifying patch-up situation in the bathroom quickly turned into a screaming match. four days since you left jermajesty’s apartment with your head spinning and your feelings left in disarray.
four days since you were left to feel like a hopeless romantic with no prospective conjoined future together.
jermajesty had made no attempt to contact you since the weekend ordeal and your feelings for him were quickly morphing from adoration to hatred. you hoped that arriving ten minutes earlier than class time would give you enough time to prepare what you’d say to him, if he even remembered your presence at this point.
you dragged yourself into the classroom with a look of desperation and dreariness. maybe jermajesty wouldn’t be there today? if only your prayers could be answered so quickly. because as the seats came into view, the one person you dreaded seeing was already plastered to the seat like a moth to a flame.
he was early for once, weird…
the silence of the space was overwhelming in the way that being submerged under water felt. like the murmuring of the waves was only comforting until the leading soundtrack from jaws started to play in the distance, signaling your doom.
against your better judgement, you chose to sit in the same seat you always did, right next to him. you sucked in a deep breath before navigating your way through the desks and strewn seats before sinking into your own. your eyes were trained ahead in anticipation of an awkward silence and squeaking of the chair beneath your weight.
as soon as you sat down, you felt jermajesty’s attention immediately shift to you. great, this was happening faster than you’d hope.
he mumbled your name, hoping to get you to look at him. you refused until he said it again, this time more softly and laced with desperation.
you finally looked at him and were met with his wide-eyed worried expression. it panged at your heart, just a little bit. but then the feeling was akin to how you felt leaving his apartment in desolation, and your feelings of pity were immediately replaced with resentment.
“what do you want?” you jeered. the anger laced in your tone felt foreign to you. you’d never felt this level of indignation towards him ever.
“look, i am so sorry for how last saturday went,” he began, angling his body in his chair to fully face you. “that wasn’t supposed to happen. i didn’t mean to blow up like that. that wasn’t fair to you.”
was it bad that you liked how desperate he looked for your attention? maybe…
your jaw ticked in annoyance as you thought over how you’d respond. without thinking too deep, you responded. “and what about the group? i thought we were going to be studying together?”
you internally flicked yourself against the forehead for sounding so vulnerable in your confession.
“i’m also sorry for that,” he lamented, eyebrows furrowing further. “i told raymond that we’d be studying together and he somehow took that as an open invite and invited everyone else. it wasn’t cool and i should’ve told you before you got there.”
well, at least he was opening up to you. but still, you stood your ground in irritation and contempt.
you huffed in response, leaning to the other side of your chair to retrieve your notebook and pencil bag. you could tell he was watching your movements with razor-sharp focus, searching for any tell that you’d forgive him soon.
“i know that you’re upset, and rightfully so,” he started. “but i have something that’ll make it up to you, i swear.”
your ears perked at that. you abandoned your attempt at searching for your lost pen in the depths of your bag and sat up straight in your chair, eyes back on jermajesty’s pensive but hopeful gaze.
“saturday taught me that, for one, i need to get better at telling my friends no,” he paused, seeing a glint of a smile forming on your lips. the tiniest ounce of guilt was alleviated from his chest at your anger easing up, so he continued. “but i also learned that i’m not the best at explaining these hard ass concepts to other people. so i had an idea.”
you waited for him to continue talking as he brought his forearms to the top of the desk like he was a businessman explaining a proposal in depth. “what if my brother tutored you?”
your eyes widened at the suggestion as you stammered out a laugh of unadulterated shock. first off, how did he jump to such an unexpected and unrealistic conclusion? secondly, did he really not want to spend time with you at all that he had to pass you to a relative? thirdly, who the fuck is his brother?
“jermajesty, what are you-"
“wait, just hear me out,” he sat up further in his chair with a pleading look in his eyes. well alright then. “my brother used to be an econometrics tutor in undergrad. he’s really good at it and he says he remembers a lot of what we’re going over now. plus, after saturday he offered to help.”
you honestly didn’t know if laughing at his face in dismay would be the proper response or if just throwing out a “are you mad?” would suffice. to say you were left utterly dumbfounded would be a complete undersell of what was racking through your brain at the moment.
if jermajesty didn’t want to accompany you while studying, he could very well just say no. but he did seem to feel pretty guilty about how things ended on saturday. then again… who the hell is brother??
he softly called your name again to get your drifting thoughts back on him. “please let me make it up to you,” he inched closer to you with those pleading eyes once again. “please.”
and who were you to say no when he looked at you like you’d assembled the stars in the sky yourself? if you were certain about anything about yourself in this moment, it was that you didn’t have a backbone. because how you could give into his request at the drop of a dime while completely casting aside your own annoyance from before, you didn’t know.
against your shrinking resolution, you agreed. “fine,” you sighed, your heart warming ever so slightly at the way that his smile widened.
yet, a question still remained at the forefront of your mind. “but, who is your brother?”
jermajesty’s eyes quirked at your question, like it was the most obvious and unmistakable thing in the world. “uh jaafar, the guy from the bathroom? didn’t he tell you that?”
as quickly as your brain short-circuited, the door to the classroom opened and in came as many as eight students at once. jermajesty instantly became distracted by the noise brought in from the outside, his attention being redirected to the doorway. and for once, you were thankful that his inquisitive and mesmerizing eyes weren’t on you anymore.
because how the hell were you supposed to survive a tutoring session with the one man aside from jermajesty who had you blushing at your shared interests and intense, wandering gaze?
and why the hell did that same man have to be jermajesty’s brother?
a/n: i hope you enjoyed. i have so many ideas for pt.2!
