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anxious-witch · 7 months

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Inertia 1

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: pretty heavy religious trauma, homophobia both internalized and just in general and for child abuse

Notes:

Ao3 Link

Okay so, several things. I will try my best to post every Saturday if my uni obligations allow me, and yes today is technically a Friday, but I was just too impatient.

This fic is listed as explicit on ao3 because there will likely be smut in later chapters and I'd rather be safe than sorry, but you can check more detailed tags on ao3 link if you are not sure about something or feel free to message me.

Big thank you to my friends @domo-no-domo-yes and @wordpuddle on tumblr for beta-reading and helping me edit this

Anyway, enjoy :)

"I etch my own face upon my wicked flesh. / I am my own devastating god."

- Rachel McKibbens, from "Shiv," Women of Resistance: Poems for a New Feminism

The first memories Jan had of his own mother were of her telling him stories every night. How, when God saw how many people came into being and how they went through their lives lost and afraid, He decided to bestow upon them a Gift – a sign of His love and mercy - that would guide them to a person who would be just right for them.

A soulmate.

Jan remembered how his mother’s soft hands gently stroked his dark, unruly hair – doing her best to tame it – as she spoke of how a Gift of his own would be granted to him in a few years, that there were some ways in which he could seek the blessing of guidance towards the right path - towards his soulmate.

That was the reason why they went to church regularly. To seek the guidance under His heavenly light. To earn His Gift.

It would take Jan quite a few years to realize that was the precise moment when the metaphorical noose was placed around his neck.

When he was around five, his mother observed a faint mark behind his ear as she was cutting his hair. She made a brief remark about it, but said nothing more. Afterwards, Jan found himself tracing its borders with his finger while trying to catch a glimpse of it in the bathroom mirror.

The mark took the form of a vaguely pear-shaped outline, devoid of color and detail. His hand continued to hover over it, occasionally touching it, as he left the bathroom and crouched behind a wall, eavesdropping on his parents speaking in not-so-hushed voices in the living room.

"You know very well what this means," his father whisper shouted, "she has to be quite a few years older than he is, if the mark is already appearing this early!"

"Let’s not jump to conclusions. If she’s two, three years older…it's not the end of the world. What matters is that she is from good, Christian family."

Jan quietly tiptoed towards his room; his heart as heavy as lead. As he lay on his bed, unable to find sleep, he decided to do what his mother always suggested he do whenever he was upset. He prayed. Prayed for a soulmate his parents would love, someone they would approve of. A soulmate that would be the closest thing to Heaven in their eyes.

It had not yet dawned upon him that his soulmate should be perfect for himself, first and foremost, not his parents.

By the time Jan started primary school at the age of seven, his mark shifted two more times. First, detail and color filled the vague pear-shaped outline, transforming it into a brown acoustic guitar, and then some years later, it shifted yet again, this time into a red bass guitar.

The whispered conversations between his parents became more frequent, and his father's expressions grew darker and angrier with each passing day. The only thing that seemed to soothe them was Jan accompanying them to church every Sunday. And so, Jan continued to do so.

Now, the church wasn’t all bad. In the silence of the stone structure, as the walls vibrated with the echoes of the choir’s song, Jan managed to bring himself to find peace. Not to mention, God was always good in his parents’ stories. Like a good Shepherd, he always took care of His flock who believed in him, including the lost lambs. So, Jan always closed his eyes and prayed as hard as he could.

God at least, would not forsake him.

It wasn't until Jan reached high school and cautiously asked his parents if he could learn to play the guitar, that things started to change.

Inevitably, it took quite a bit of convincing. Guitar lessons meant that Jan would have less time to dedicate towards church and schoolwork, but since Jan was always a good student who worked hard to keep his grades up, they couldn't say no.

Jan was not ready to tell them that one of the reasons why he wanted those guitar lessons was so that he could spend less time under their watchful eyes, as well as attending church services. He could already feel his father's cold rage breathing down his neck at the mere thought of mentioning it. Not to mention, he was developing a taste of his own, music-wise – something which he carefully kept under wraps, as he knew the kind of music he discovered and loved would certainly be considered ungodly.

The last two years of middle school had been rough on Jan. Matej moved out just a bit before his twenty-seventh birthday, and his sister got married and moved away ages ago. This meant that Jan lived alone with his parents, with no one to divert their attention from him, which made him long for some time to have for himself.

Being so much younger than both his siblings felt awful. It was as if he was perpetually late to everything and stumbled through things his siblings seemingly did with ease. Worse yet, ever since he started puberty, his parents began asking him about girls he liked. Jan usually brushed off their queries by stating he was more interested in math than girls.

Yet, if he had to be honest with himself, math class often bored him. He often felt as if his brain was constantly racing ahead of most of his classmates’, the problems he copied from the board completely solved long before anyone else finished. Truth be told, instead of counting how many times he mumbled “Hail Mary” for mouthing off at the teacher, his eyes strayed towards the boy sitting in the second row. He once counted seventy-eight eyelashes on the boy's upper eyelid before the teacher called his name.

His heart didn't slow until well after he left school. After that, he never looked at the boy again.

So, picking up the guitar served two purposes. For one, he might get closer to his soulmate and meet her while learning to play the guitar – he did hear of the oft-mentioned stereotype of girls liking musicians after all – and of course, he would also have a convenient excuse to skip Sunday mass on occasion.

Every time anything related to homosexuality was mentioned, Jan’s breath often hitched. He felt as if he was being watched, be it by his family or his peers, or by God’s eye. As if, if he ever so much as breathed the wrong way, or moved his hand a certain way, it would be obvious to everyone.

And Jan never, ever wanted that to happen. Not in his lifetime.

Music was, as he soon learned, similar to math in some aspects. It was all about attention to detail and carefully reading the notes. Well, it was not quite the same as math however. Math made his thoughts speed up as he focused, while he sifted through all the possible answers. With music, however, it was as if his brain and his entire being focused on a singular point – one where he could simply concentrate on the notes and the strings under his fingers alone. Everything else simply faded away when music took over his soul.

It felt like a prayer. Like for the first time in years, he witnessed what a miracle was, and found God among the strings.

But what really changed his mind took the form of a tall, lanky boy who took lessons from the same guitar teacher. Jan often saw him either walking out of the building as he came to his lessons, or waiting in the hallway for his turn, as Jan was finished for the day.

It wasn't until their music teacher call them up for the same session and introduced them to each other that Jan truly noticed him.

"Jan, this is Kris Guštin. Kris, this is Jan Peteh. I wanted to suggest-"

"Wait, Kris Guštin? As in, Gušti's kid?!" Jan might have been raised in a Christian household, but he did not live under a rock, and he already developed a taste of his own as of late.

Kris sighed and Ema pursed her lips. She didn't like being interrupted. Jan grimaced.

"Sorry."

"Yes. He’s my dad. Can we please get back on track?"

Jan took a good look at the tall boy for the first time. His hair was cut awfully short - Jan's own hair reached slightly below his ears, just enough to cover up his soulmark - and he looked like he got dressed in the first clothes they found in his size, which consisted of a mock-collegiate jumper and rather short shorts.

Kris shot him a glare and Jan realized he was staring. He quickly turned his eyes back towards Ema.

"As I was saying, both of you have been my students for quite some time. I think you both are very talented and your styles are very complementary. I suggest you two get to know each other better and perhaps consider forming a band."

Jan felt his mouth fall open as his jaw went slack, but no words came out. Him? In a band? His head spun. Yet somewhere, deep inside his chest, his heart warmed and swelled with joy. A desire he never dared to voice suddenly sang.

"With him?" Kris asked, his blue eyes widening.

Ema raised a neatly-plucked eyebrow.

"Kris. I realize Jan might not have made the best impression with his earlier interruption, but he is, along with you, one of my best students. I would not have suggested this if I wasn't certain it could work."

Kris considered him carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly at his necklace with a cross on it. Jan felt a twinge of self-consciousness, as well as a sudden urge to hide it under his shirt. Wearing it was more if a habit at this point anyway. Like a lucky amulet of some sort, protecting him from anything bad that could happen.

"How about the two of you think about it? We can have a joint session for today so you can see how you fit musically. Then, you can figure out the rest on your own."

To this, they both agreed, albeit Kris was slightly less enthusiastic, at least outwardly. Jan really wanted it to work out, but he reined his expectations. He never expected music to be more than a hobby, after all.

“How about I give you a key and then I’ll mess around a bit to find something that sounds good. You can join in if you think you have a melody that will go with mine, so we’ll see if it works. Sounds good?”

Jan nodded. Kris focused on his guitar and then slowly slide his fingers over the strings. Jan listened carefully, trying to get a feel of Kris’ guitar-playing style.

The younger boy seemed to favor clearer, more measured and consistent tones. Jan on the other hand, perhaps partly due to the kind of music he listened to, had an inclination towards more frenetic, improvisational and chaotic playing, with more distortion. Perhaps…

The next time Kris began his melody, Jan joined in. He followed it with his own, fast-paced and improvised one. Not to overpower Kris’ own playing but simply to complement it. When they reached the end, Jan and Kris exchanged a look. Kris' suspicion melted away, and he gave Jan a shy smile.

“That was…really good actually. We should do it again…this time, with a proper song.”

In that moment, something just clicked. It was as if Jan finally found the key to solving an equation he had been struggling with. And just as it was in math, once he found the solution to one equation, it was like finding a key to solve all equations similar to it.

“Deal.”

They did end up forming a band, even if Buržuazija didn't last very long – less than two years, in fact. More importantly for Jan, however, he gained a friend. Not that he was devoid of friends before Kris came into the picture, but the younger boy was different. He wasn’t handpicked by his parents and neither was he anything like Jan pictured a son of Gušti to be - although he did indeed take after his father looks-wise.

He could come across as mean at times, but as Jan soon learned, it was more the result of a combination of affectionate teasing and awkwardness, as well as a need for order.

His parents didn't approve, of course. Neither of Kris nor Jan spending even more time playing the guitar. But this time, Jan found himself no longer caring. He began sneaking out often, as well as lying regularly as well - making up extra classes and math tutoring sessions in order to spend more time with Kris and the rest of their band.

It was on one such night, during a festival they were set to perform in, that Jan met Bojan. His band Apokalipsa was to take the stage right before them.

However, it wasn't Bojan's voice that made him notice him. Rather, it was the way Kris stared in his direction. Like Kris was someone that saw colors for the first time when he looked at him, his turquoise eyes staring into warm pools of deep brown.

It was the look of someone completely smitten.

Jan gently nudged him and Kris startled, looking at him wide-eyed.

"You know him?"

"Um. Yeah, we went to primary school together. It's-he just has a really nice voice, y'know?"

Even under the flashing lights, he could see the faint blush that colored Kris' cheeks. Finding someone who looked at other boys the same way he did felt...odd. It was not how he he expected to feel. Jan knew was supposed to be happy to find someone like himself, but instead he just felt disconnected. Like he couldn't quite process it.

He turned to face the stage. Bojan did have a nice voice and despite being on the slightly shorter side, when he began to sing, that impression faded away. He was larger than life and had a certain charismatic quality that demanded all eyes to be on him. Jan could definitely understand why Kris liked him.

"Don't worry though. He is not like-my soulmate or anything. Not that I have one. Just. Y'know."

Jan snorted.

"Obviously, he isn’t your soulmate. He ain’t a girl, is he?"

Silence. Jan turned to look at Kris, who stared at him with his mouth set in a straight line. He fidgeted in a way that he only ever did when he was nervous. The lights shifted in color from blue to red, painting everything in an almost menacing manner.

"Oh. I didn't know you. Um."

Jan was confused.

"That I what?"

"That you were homophobic," Kris said, his voice barely audible.

Jan's heart stopped for a few moments. Homophobic? The lights in the venue flashed in different colors at an increased rate now. Yellow, then blue again, then red. He began shaking his head as he felt Kris’ words cut into him like a blade.

"Homophobic? No! Why would you think that? I am not homophobic, I'm-"

He stopped himself, swallowing the word before it could pass over his lips. The forbidden word. The one he would never utter with regards to himself.

Kris stared at him, but this time he looked neither fearful nor suspicious, at least. More...curious, if anything.

"But you don't think soulmates can be of the same gender?"

It was obvious, now that Kris stated it. So why did Jan feel like he was being dragged from a very dark place into the sunlight? Like he was seeing things through a completely new perspective for the first time? As if on cue, bright green lights illuminated the stage, while Jan came to a conclusion.

He felt his heart beat in his chest like a drum, as if heralding an important revelation - something life changing. Something that he couldn't go back from.

"You-that can happen?"

Thump-thump-thump. Kris' face softened.

"Of course, it can. You don't...you didn't know that?"

Jan shook his head, unable to find the right words. Kris reached out and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Oh Jan..."

He was saved from whatever Kris was about to say, by the end of Apokalipsa's performance and the announcer calling them to take the stage. Jan stood up quickly and moved as if he was on autopilot. He could not bring himself to look at Kris.

Somewhere between setting up their instruments and the beginning their first song, rage slowly started to build up in him. His parents, the people whom he trusted all his life, lied to him. His father must have suspected for years. Did they not like Kris because they knew his parents weren't against the notion of homosexuality and same-sex soulmates? That Kris wasn't?

Fueled by rage and spite, Jan moved his fingers over the chords. Anger was all he felt, but said wrath radiated power. He played like he wanted his parents to hear him from their bedroom at home.

He wanted them to know how he felt. How he was breaking their rules, and that there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

Ending the song felt like coming out of a daze. They were met with thunderous applause, and Jan felt overwhelmed, like every sensation hit him all at once. He only just managed to keep his chill until they got off the stage and he put his guitar down. He then broke out into a run, and took off.

Kris was calling his name, but he didn't turn around. He could not bring himself to do so.

He slowed down once he neared the school playground, gasping for breath. Then, he made his way towards the old swing set and sat on one of the swing seats. It was too small for his already tall frame, and he had to bend his knees quite a bit to be able to fit.

The cool breeze lightly caressed Jan’s face as he tried to untangle the chaos that was his thoughts and feelings. For seventeen years, he believed that a soulmate was a Gift people got, and made the best out of it. That meeting the one destined for him was akin to finding the puzzle piece that would complete him. That she would make him right again. That all of these dark feelings, all these little rebellions he engaged in would become unnecessary. Irrelevant.

Jan realized with a jolt that he did not quite believe that for a long time. Deep down, he knew a soulmate couldn't fix him, or life, or even his deteriorating relationship with his parents. It was just so difficult to bring himself look at cold, hard reality.

Lies…they were familiar, polished and smooth from many years of handling them. The truth on the other hand, was all sharp edges that made him bleed, just like the guitar’s strings did when he first began playing.

Tears slid down his cheeks, and he covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a sob, but finally, he looked directly at it. Stared at the darkness in the face and embraced it for the first time, rather than shrink back into the light.

He had to admit it to himself that his parents loved the idea of him, a lot more than they would ever love him as a person. They only loved him when he molded himself into someone they could approve of, and someone he wasn't – and probably never was. When he was obedient, didn't ask questions and behaved himself. Like a lamb who simply followed, and molded himself to fit into their idea of what a good son was.

And Jan was so tired of pretending. Of pretending he still believed in everything they said. In everything priests said. In the end, it was all about controlling him.

He reached for his crucifix necklace, firstly gently stroking his fingers over the cold metal and then grabbing it with his fist. Then he pulled. The delicate chain snapped and Jan was left with a cross and a broken necklace.

He put it in the pocket, with what little faith he had left. He then wiped his tears away and got up from the swing.

Walking back seemed to take much longer than it did running away. Or perhaps Jan's racing thoughts finally calmed now that he had accepted the truth.

Nonetheless, the festival still wasn't over by the time he got back. He found Kris easily enough - he was tall enough to be spotted at a glance - in a conversation with Bojan. Kris immediately noticed him and after what seemed to be a quick apology to Bojan, made his way over to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his eyes scanning his face.

Jan gave him a weak smile.

"I will be, I think."

Kris nodded, but still looked worried. Then he bit his lip.

"Well, actually I was just talking to Bojan and um."

Jan raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"He was really impressed with our performance and he...asked if the two of us would like to form a new band, with him and two of his friends? Since their guitarist are quitting after the summer."

Jan shrugged. There was no harm in hearing him out, was there? He didn't have to accept. And he did owe Kris some extra time with his crush after the whole ordeal.

"Sure, let's hear him out. I mean, not like we are making any life changing decision here."

He had never been more wrong.

Since then, Jan began distancing himself from his parents even more. He questioned everything they told him, and then stopped listening altogether. He no longer accompanied them to church every Sunday, and stopped caring about what they had to say about the music he listened to, or how he spent his time.

He slowly but surely grew his hair out, hiding his mark completely. He’d scrub it off his skin if he could.

After he turned eighteen and choose a university in Ljubljana, far enough that he would need to live in a campus dormitory or rent an apartment. Unsurprisingly, his parents protested.

Jan told them that he was moving out regardless of whether he was accepted or not. That he would find a job and move out if necessary.

"Why?" His mother asked, searching his face, desperately trying to find a boy she raised to obey her.

She wouldn't find him. The boy was long gone.

He reached into his pocket, where he still kept the crucifix necklace on a broken chain. He set it on the table and pulled his hand back. His heart felt like it was lodged in his throat, trying to prevent him from uttering the truth. He swallowed, then forced his words out through clenched teeth.

"I don't believe in God anymore."

There was more he wanted to say. To explain why and how. But as soon as he uttered the first sentence his father backhanded him so hard Jan felt his lip split. He tasted iron on his tongue.

His mother gasped, but did not say a word in his defense. As always. Jan felt numb as he reached for his lip and found it bleeding. His father had never hit him before this. Yelling was commonplace, sometimes grounding and things taken away, but never this.

It was the last straw. The final note at the end of the twisted hymn that spelled out his life’s path for the past eighteen years, one that was necessary to be play before it was finally over.

"How dare you speak to me like this, in my house?!"

Jan looked at his father straight in the eyes, without so much as a flinch. They shared the same eyes, and he briefly wondered how they ended up seeing the world with them so differently.

"Which is why I am leaving. But I'd believe in God before I'd ever believe either of you again. Only straight soulmates exist, huh? You are both such fucking liars."

Jan snarled those damning words with as much venom as he could muster. The second time his father swung at him; Jan caught his hand. They stared at one another for one long, tense moment. His father was pale, his eyes wide. In that moment, he looked older than his sixty years. Frailer. For the first time, he noticed fear in his eyes. His father was scared of him. Scared of not being able to control him, of what he was capable of doing next.

"This is what it’s all about, isn’t it?? You-you are going through some kind of phase and you think you are gay now? That your soulmate will be a man?!"

"No."

They didn't deserve to know and yet. Jan wanted to hurt them. Wanted to twist the dagger, plunge it deeper, and let them bleed for all the suffering and doubt they put him through. He wanted them to never recover, just like he knew he wouldn't.

"I don't care if my soulmate if a woman or a man or whatever. I don't want them. I don't want any Gifts from your fucking God, or anything from you."

His mother let out a sob. Jan let go of his father's hand and took a step back. He felt nothing and everything at the same time. It was as if he was encased in cold, cold ice. Everything that happened below the surface didn't quite reach him yet.

The child in him wanted to draw her into the hug and tell her everything will be alright, just like she did to him, so many years ago. The person he was now wanted to spit in her face and tell her she was equally complicit and made him feel just as hopeless as she felt now for years.

"Look at what you are doing to your mother. After everything we gave you-"

"I’ve already packed. I can go now."

Silence was dark and heavy. He felt his mother's stare. He did not look back. The two sides of him were still at war, and he didn’t want either one to win.

"Where will you go?" She asked through the sobs.

"To a friend. College is only few weeks away. They said I can stay until then."

His father slammed the table with his fist.

"To the Guštins?! I told you that boy was cursed! He is soulless, that's why he doesn't have a soulmate!"

Jan bristled at the slight against his best friend and stared at his father in grim silence for a few moments, before grabbing the discarded crucifix from the table and throwing it at him. It hit the older man squarely in the forehead, making a small cut that started bleeding immediately. Jan felt tears stinging his eyes and threatening to fall. Tears of rage and betrayal and grief, all at once. He held them back, before raising his chin and retorting, the final remnants of the lamb in him burning away to reveal a wolf.

"The only soulless one is you! And I never want to fucking see either of you, ever again!"

He turned on his heel and ran up the stairs to his room, quickly gathering his suitcase and bags. Everything he owned and cherished was packed away in those bags. His entire life up to that point. Well. Almost. He kept wiping his tears away, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. All the pictures from the church and of his parents – a reminder of the lies and the suffering he was leaving behind - were neatly set on the table. He only packed the ones he had with Kris, Bojan, Martin and Matić. He also had one picture of him and his brother, hidden in a math notebook. He wasn’t sure if he would keep it just yet, but he brought it with him anyways. There was still a glimmer of hope that he might get to keep his brother after all this, if no one else.

Nobody tried to stop him as he resolutely carried all his bags down the stairs and dragged them behind him as he stepped out of the door.

"If you do this, you can't come back, Jan. You are adult. We have no legal obligation to help you anymore, or help save your soul from damnation."

Jan looked back at his father one last time. His shoulders were slumped, and he was holding a bloodstained piece of gauze to his forehead where the crucifix made its impact. Jan's own lip stung where it broke.

What relationship they had was past the point of no return, and he knew that for a while already. It was only a few minutes ago that they became aware of it.

"Goodbye, dad," he said with finality, before he slammed the door behind him.

What little faith he had stored in his pocket that fateful night stayed behind in that house. He would never again find God between the strings of his guitar, nor find comfort in His divine light. Neither did he want to, ever again. But maybe, with time, he might be able to find himself.

That was the best he could hope for.

#jance #my writing #jan peteh #nace jordan #joker out #inertia

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