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ax_mainGilmore emerges unsteadily from his post-Murderworld checkup, and Nolan is there to catch him. Unexpected feelings catch them both unawares, leading to secrets revealed (Nolan's powers) and future plans made (Hamptons getaway weekend).
Also, long. The log covers a night and the next morning.
There were many things Nolan disliked about his mutation, beyond the obvious fact that it risked damaging his brain. But he was making progress, with the Professor's help, and the drugs helped reduce any damage in the meantime. One of the other things at the top of the list of things he disliked about his mutation was the way his mind felt after a vision. Sluggish, drowsy, as if he'd just woken up and couldn't quite get his brain into gear. He was used to a certain clarity of thought, a rapidity and responsiveness from his mind that he just didn't get in the hours following a vision. He felt properly disabled in those hours, with memories escaping him, trains of thought suddenly getting away from him, and the slight tremor that came and went in his hands.
It had been excruciating, having to let Tessa and Kitty do the heavy lifting of research, while he sat back and tried, desperately, to pull more details from a vision that twisted out of his grasp much like a dream whenever he reached for it. But this was neither here nor there. Their efforts had been too little, too late, and the kidnapped students were back - Shaun was back - before an X-Team might have been sent to extract them. All was well that ended well.
Nolan had finally gone to Simon for one of his usual post-vision check-ups, and now he was pacing outside the infirmary, waiting for Shaun to be released. He looked slightly better than earlier, having remembered to tuck his shirt back into his pants, but his hair was still disheveled; there was only so much he had thought to fix.
Somehow, Shaun had made it out of this nightmare day both alive and relatively unharmed. Compared to the others who had also woken up in Murderworld that day, he'd practically gotten off scot-free. Minor abrasions, they'd said in the infirmary. A ringing in the ears from the noise and the explosions. Deeply, fantastically frayed nerves -- which weren't helped by the sudden immense chasm of guilt he'd experienced as he watched the others being treated for their injuries, their shock, and their trauma. He'd gotten them out alive, running on bravado, wit, and the hottest, reddest fury he'd ever felt in his life.
Now... Shaun just wanted to go somewhere and hide. And maybe throw up a lot.
When he stepped out of the infirmary and shut the door behind himself to silence the medical murmurings and stifle the smell of antiseptic, he didn't expect to see Nolan standing right there. Indeed, Shaun hadn't expected to see Nolan at all. They saw plenty of one another, day to day (even when they weren't seeing every last inch of each other). Nolan's room was just across the hall, and there were texts and emails, smiles and winks, and whenever Shaun thought he could get away with it, a soft greeting of hey, sexy as they passed each other. They hadn't talked about being public with their relationship, but they weren't exactly private, either. He hadn't had reason to ask himself if he and Nolan were at a stage of their relationship where they would haunt the halls for one another if the other was hurt or in danger. Had Nolan been... waiting for him?
"Hey, sexy," Shaun whispered as his heart did its best to climb up into his throat.
Nolan hadn't really been thinking about what came next. He'd just been fixated on seeing Shaun, and he hadn't taken the thought any further than that. And he had known that Shaun was all right. Back, and all right. This was not news. So he hadn't expected the wave of relief and - something else - that hit him when the other boy stepped out of the infirmary. He found that he had no words to answer, and only managed, after a few long seconds, a fac simile of his usual smile, and a quiet, "Hey." Quiet, but not quiet enough to hide the strain in his voice.
And then, before he could think any better of it, he had wrapped his arms around Shaun's shoulders and closed his eyes in sweet, blessed relief. Shaun was all right.
For a second or two, Shaun felt like he were made of sticks, or stuffed full of straw, and wasn't actually a part of his body at all. Nolan's arms felt so warm and so real, and here was Shaun, feeling like he'd been disassembled and put back together with a few pieces missing. (Just like he'd done to those robots that had been so recently trying to kill him.) Then he inhaled, and the scent of Nolan that he knew so well, that meant warmth and surrender and total unquestioning acceptance, flooded over him. It caught in his throat, and the breath shuddered in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around Nolan's waist and back and buried his head in the other boy's shoulder.
He had been pushing hard for hours and hours, knowing that if he stopped thinking or stopped working, he could die. Percy could die. Jean-Paul and Wynonna and Lil could die. Now, all of that forward momentum seemed to catch up with him, slamming into him and shattering into bright spiky shards of emotions he couldn't even try to name. The force of it might have broken him apart, but... Nolan was here to catch him. Shaun gave a long, trembling exhale, and just clung to him for a minute.
Clinging was all Nolan seemed capable of just then. Shaun was there, in his arms, and hugging him back. What else was there but to cling? Especially after... "I was so scared," he whispered, this time, knowing better than to trust his voice, and not entirely sure whether he wanted Shaun to hear the admission. He didn't remember ever being so scared in his life, the sort of fear that seeped cold throughout all of him, that sat churning in his stomach and weighed on him with every passing moment.
But he forced himself to lean back just enough to be able to look at Shaun, concern clear on his face. "Are you -" He cleared his throat when his voice still wouldn't cooperate. "How are you?"
Nolan sounded so faint and far away, and yet, his embrace had been almost desperately strong. What had Shaun done to merit this kind of reaction? He was almost afraid to pull back and see what might be there on Nolan’s face, or hiding in his sky blue eyes. Shaun didn’t know what to do with his own feelings, jangling up and down his nerves and rattling through his chest, let alone try to fathom Nolan’s.
But, hesitantly, he loosened his hold and let Nolan see him, though he didn’t look up right away. “I....” I’m okay was too obviously a lie, but Shaun couldn’t sort through his residual fear and anger and the startling new bloom of fierce possessive-longing-relief in his heart to come up with an explanation that sounded suitably Gilmore. “I’m not hurt,” he finally promised, and only then did he lift his eyes to meet Nolan’s.
Nolan, who looked worn and drawn and actually gray. Way worse than Shaun’s missing hours warranted. “Jesus, what about you?”
Nolan reached out to cradle Shaun's face when he finally looked up, and his hand paused for just an instant at his question, at the shock in his eyes, before his hand resumed its course, fingers brushing tenderly against Shaun's cheek before settling along his jaw. Not hurt meant what it meant, and Nolan felt an instinctive need to touch Shaun, tenderly and steadily, as if to assure himself that he was here.
"I'll be fine," he answered, hoping he wasn't lying, in the grand scheme of things. He would be better after getting some sleep, at least, but he did not want to walk away from Shaun for now. His hand trailed off of Shaun's face to rest over his collarbone as Nolan glanced around, then looked back at Shaun. "Let's get out of here?"
No, I'm good, Shaun thought half-hysterically. Let's just stand here in this hallway forever and you can keep touching me like this, like I'm the only thing you want to touch in the whole world.
Because, really, he didn't want to move. When you saw moments like this in the movies, you could wish that you were her or him and that someone would look at you like that. He didn't realize, he had no idea, how overwhelming it could be when it actually happened. Shaun didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve Nolan looking at him like this, touching him like... like he was something precious. He didn't want it to end, even if it meant staying here in public just like this, possibly for the rest of time.
Shaun was silent for way too long, he knew. He was looking into Nolan's eyes in searching disbelief, and it was probably going to weird Nolan out if it went on too long. "S... sure," he finally said, unsteadily, his throat oddly dry. "My place?"
Nolan wasn't weirded out so much as vaguely concerned, but he was also not firing on all cylinders, and he was glad to let the moment pass without remark when Shaun finally replied. "Your place," he confirmed, without a hint of the dry amusement that would usually have come with using the phrase for a dorm room.
He had been grateful in the past - very grateful - for the fact that Shaun did not yet have a roommate. But he was more grateful for it now than ever before.
For now, his hand settled on the side of Shaun's face, fingers threaded through his hair, as Nolan pressed a relieved kiss to his forehead. It felt like an affirmation - of what, he couldn't have said - but one that he had to make before pulling back, and holding his hand out to Shaun, for them to go.
Honestly, Shaun was faintly concerned about both of them making it up the stairs and back to Room 110 -- Nolan because he looked so exhausted and wrung out, and himself because he wasn't sure he could feel all of his limbs. It wasn't just the trauma and the confusing emotional battery. Nolan had kissed him and held his hand dozens of times since they'd started dating, and he'd never felt like his feet weren't quite in contact with the earth. ... maybe it was just shock. Maybe.
He wrapped his hand around Nolan's, good and tight so he could feel it, and they made their way up through the halls and stairs back to Gilmore's room.
By now it was dark outside and very late, but the small lamp on Shaun's desk was on its usual Sebastian-assisted timer. Everything in the room took on a faintly golden cast. Shaun hadn't bothered to make his bed before going out with Percy earlier that day, and the room was a generally comfortable mess. Very comfortable to Shaun, who breathed a deep sigh and leaned against Nolan's side as they stepped in and closed the door behind them. "Fucking hell," he whispered, like he couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do now, faced with the very simple task of just getting to bed.
It wasn't the first time Nolan came to Shaun's room, but everything felt different right then. It wasn't him walking back to his room after a long day's work, seeing Shaun's door open, and knocking on it softly before slipping inside for some conversation - or more, when the mood took them (they were teenage boys; the mood tended to take them). The room might be its usual warm self, with that vanilla-spice scent in the air that Nolan was fairly certain he could not smell without thinking of Shaun, now, but it registered as something different. It registered as safe, a haven for both of them, rather than simply as Shaun's space, into which Nolan was fortunate enough to be allowed. In that moment, and probably in that moment alone, it felt like their shelter.
Not that Nolan was quite aware of all of this, not with his brain so foggy; he only acknowledged that sense of safety when the release of some of his emotional tension had tears prickle the back of his eyes. He pulled his hand back from Shaun's to wrap his arms around him again, and closed his eyes against the threatening tears. "You can say that again," he managed to say, lips brushing Shaun's hair, his voice still a little hoarse (he had likely abused it while seizing); a valiant try at his usual dry tone, but one missing by about a mile.
"Hey..." Shaun curled his arms around Nolan in return, nearly dumbfounded by this reaction. Only nearly, though; very little actually could strike Shaun Gilmore silent. For the first time, he sort of wished he had a better term of endearment than 'sexy.' To be fair, it was the first time in his life that 'sexy' just wasn't enough. He tucked in close, slowly stroking Nolan's back with one hand. "Hey... I'm here. I'm here."
His own voice was a little weak and uncertain. The way Nolan sounded, the way Nolan was holding him like he might disappear again... Shaun didn't know how or why or even when it had happened, but he understood, without words, that he was important to Nolan in a way he hadn't understood before. It left him weak in the knees, and his head reeling too dizzily to think about what that meant. Without speaking, and without letting go of him, Shaun drew Nolan toward his messy bed to sit him down there before they both collapsed of exhaustion.
"Sorry," Nolan said as they took a seat. He'd successfully managed to blink back his tears - or so it felt to him - and he pulled back to look at Shaun with a small, apologetic, self-conscious smile, his hands on his arms. Apologizing for having emotions, or at least letting them show; something he definitely owed his father. "I'm not used to... being scared like that."
It felt like he was saying more, with those words, or like maybe he should be? But he couldn't quite get there, his mind refusing to go the extra mile, and him all out of energy to force it to. He raised a hand to Shaun's face and stroked his thumb over his cheek, focusing on his presence here all over again. "How are you? Is there anything I can do?"
Shaun took a second to kick off his boots, which had been pretty torn up and worn out by the ordeal, and would probably never shine again. Then, oh, then, he could curl up half in Nolan's lap and nudge him to lean back into the pile of pillows that always decorated his bed. Nolan didn't look like he was going to be holding himself upright for much longer, anyway.
"You can not let go of me," Shaun suggested, soft and breathless, words he hadn't meant to say. He'd meant to bluff and promise he was fine, maybe make a tender little joke, but he couldn't. His hands had started trembling, and he was pretty sure that it would take over his entire body if he didn't have Nolan's arms around him. His hands curled into to tight fistfuls of Nolan's shirt. "We were supposed to die," he heard himself confessing in a voice that hardly sounded like his own, absent of the rich confidence and charming purr he usually cultivated. "That's what it was for. The entire place was designed to kill us, and he didn't even know our names."
Nolan went willingly, wrapping his arms back around Shaun as he leaned back - and then holding him a little tighter at his words, his whisper, what sounded all too close to a plea and made Nolan's heart ache for him. He wasn't going to, was what he was saying with that gesture. He wasn't going to let go, and he turned his head towards Shaun's head, cheek pressing against his hair.
The tears came back with Shaun's even admission, all too even, nothing of the vibrant boy Nolan knew in it. Nolan closed his eyes against them, and listened to Shaun. "I'm sorry," he whispered, both an expression of sympathy and an apology, for all that there was no reason that Shaun should expect the latter, or recognize it as such. What was the point of his mutation, and everything that came with it, if he could not even spare someone he cared for such experiences? "What happened to him?" Whoever he was.
"Don't know. Don't care." Shaun's shoulders bowed, and he lay his head on Nolan's shoulder. The way Nolan was holding him, wrapping around him, made Shaun want to melt against him the way he'd done so many times in this very bed. Only he couldn't, somehow. Something was wrong. What Shaun hadn't quite managed to calculate was the meaning of all the little things that were wrong with Nolan: the exhaustion, the uncharacteristic displays of emotion, the tightness in his voice and... Shaun had never seen or heard Nolan cry. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would have said with confidence that it wasn't possible. Not Nolan, and not over Shaun.
"He liked to talk, though. Called himself 'Arcade.' He..." his voice choked, but not on fear or anger or tears. It sounded, actually, like he wanted to laugh. "He built a giant mechanical death machine, Nolan, and he dropped me inside it."
Shaun Gilmore, who had been pulling things apart and putting them back together since he was ten. Who only had to touch a device to know what it was for and how it worked. Who could tell copper from steel from sterling silver by the way it felt in his hand. Who could build anything out of anything -- and take it apart just as easily.
Shaun might not care to know, but Nolan did. He made a mental note of the name, and vowed to himself that he would scour every inch of the dark web until he found the man... starting when he was in any state to concentrate on that sort of activity. And when Shaun was no longer in his arms, but that would sadly probably come before the former. "More the fool him," he agreed, sounding slightly more like himself not that he had an objective, even if he could not start working towards it straight away.
He cradled Shaun's face again, the gesture tender and confident, but that confidence all to do with Nolan's faith in Shaun. His eyes were mostly dry again as he met Shaun's gaze, and he asked, a hint of one of his soft-dry smiles on his lips, "Did you give him hell?" He did not imagine the answer to be anything but 'yes'.
The realization that Shaun might never have looked into those blue eyes again, might never have seen that hint of smile that he worked so hard to earn and adored to see, hit him so hard that he almost couldn't breathe for a second. It hurt to even think about it, but looking away would hurt even more. He met Nolan's gaze for a long time before he managed to un-fist one hand, and lay the backs of his fingers against Nolan's cheek in silent acknowledgement. I see your tears, but I won't make you admit to them.
"Explosively," he finally promised, eyes narrowing just a little with the memory of it. "Nolan, I was so... angry. I wasn't going to go out like that. I wasn't going to let Percy go out like that, or any of the others. I was hell-bent on showing that asshole what a mistake he'd made, targeting us. I don't know if he survived." And he didn't care. At least, not yet.
"And here I thought you would need help," Nolan whispered, his tone full of admiration. He hadn't realized, until this moment, that it wasn't that his vision had been useless. It was that Shaun had not needed any help. Shaun had been amazingly, frighteningly well suited to getting all of them out of there. Shaun had been a hero, and not in the X-sense. It hadn't been about training, and going out there with a team. It had been having his back to a wall, and stepping up, performing admirably under duress, when his life and those of the others had been on the line. While a maniac with too much money and time on his hands tried to have them all killed.
Nolan did not know what to do with the swell of admiration inside him, so he kissed Shaun, closing his eyes and pressing their lips together, both with that surge of feeling, and with the ongoing relief of Shaun's return.
Shaun gave a soft sound of mingled surprise and longing, and immediately curled his hand around the back of Nolan's neck. Out of habit, out of warm relief, his eyes slipped closed and he kissed Nolan sweetly. He had been strong, he knew that, but he'd been so frightened and so furious at the same time. That didn't feel like something that deserved a reward as delicious as Nolan's regard, not to mention Nolan's kisses. It was almost too much to feel all at once.
Apparently his head agreed with his heart, because behind the darkness of his closed eyes flashed the disorienting carnival lights of Murderworld, the bewildering blackness of Percy's smoke form, the terrifying explosions going off all around him. Shaun inhaled sharply and pulled back, blinking his eyes open rapidly. "I... sorry. It's not you, it's... I... sorry," he whispered, swallowing hard.
"It's all right," Nolan told him, stroking the side of Shaun's face. "It's all over, Shaun." He pulled him into another hug, warm and steady in a way Nolan wasn't sure he could have been if he had to keep looking into Shaun's frightened eyes. That look did not long in Shaun's eyes, and seeing it there made Nolan's heart clench painfully. So he hugged him, and turned his head into him to kiss his hair. "You're back."
Things they both needed to hear, for how well Nolan could imagine the sort of memory to put that look in Shaun's eyes, for having witnessed some of them himself. He had spent hours trying to remember more, and here he was now, trying to ignore the images pressing on his brain, now that he had thought of them.
Shaun's arms tightened around Nolan again, and though he didn't close his eyes, he did let himself soften and relax. Laying there in Nolan's arms felt safe. He felt safe. Something inside Nolan that burned hot and bright and steady had somehow enveloped him in Nolan's protection, and Shaun hadn't even realized it was there. Had he been blind for the last two months, or just stupid? Or... maybe it was as new to Nolan as it was to him?
He rested his head against Nolan's shoulder, unnameable emotions and unasked questions at war with each other in his bewildered heart. One hand lay on Nolan's chest, fingers spread out to feel the quiet, reassuring pulse of his heart. "You thought I needed help?" Shaun asked after a little while. He wasn't going to sleep, and he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking. He did feel a little guilty for keeping Nolan awake, though.
For a few seconds, Nolan couldn't understand the question. He understood the words, and he understood it on a basic level. But he didn't understand why Shaun was asking. When it finally clicked into place, he felt stupid for not seeing it earlier. He was quiet for a moment longer, trying to think of ways to get out of explaining with a mind that did not want to cooperate, even as he wondered how much he wanted to get out of it. He didn't want Shaun to think of him like that (dying, with a deficient brain), but on the other hand, he also wanted to share this with him. He didn't know which urge was the most selfish.
"You never did ask about my mutation," Nolan said quietly, looking up at the ceiling. It was a statement, and it was gratitude. It took a few more long seconds before he managed to get the next words out. "I get - visions, sometimes. I - it wasn't enough to - I wish it could've helped," he blurted out, desperate for Shaun to know that they had tried, that he had tried, but that it hadn't been enough. None of it had been enough. "It was too late, when we found something you - you were already out."
This was very wrong. This wasn't the self-possessed, centered, privately passionate Nolan that Shaun knew. He had almost never known Nolan to stammer, or to struggle with words. Or even to speak before thinking, really. Nolan hadn't even finished speaking before Shaun lifted his head and pushed himself up to gaze down at Nolan in befuddled wonder. All of his thick wavy hair was a tangled mess, shoved over to one side and tumbling down the side of his face, threatening but not quite falling in his eyes.
He stared, yes, but he didn't pull away. Nolan sounded like he was apologizing, which was patently ridiculous, so Shaun touched two fingertips briefly to Nolan's lips to still the rush of uncharacteristic words. His dark gaze darted from Nolan's lips to his eyes to the rest of his aristocratically chiseled features, now shaped in a guilty expression such as Shaun had never seen. "You... you're a fucking miracle, aren't you?" he breathed, sounding awed. "You have visions? You had one... about me?"
Nolan did not know what to do with the way Shaun was looking at him, never mind the words he was saying. "Trust me," he replied, his tone as close to his usual dryness as Shaun would have heard it today, "there's nothing miraculous about them." He took Shaun's hand in his, and brought it to his lips to press a kiss to it, to help himself ward off the leftover urgency from the wisps of the vision he could remember, like a nightmare he couldn't quite shake. "I saw you in one of those... balls? There was -" he winced a little, the memory loud in his mind, "an explosion."
Shaun clutched Nolan's hand tightly and did not let go. "That definitely happened," he agreed breathlessly. Nolan couldn't have heard the details from someone else already. The five of them had only been to the infirmary and only spoken to the adults there.
"You never told me. I could tell you didn't want me to ask. I thought your mutation was something to do with electronics, that you were like me, but with computers, and you didn't... you didn't want me to think you'd somehow cheated your way into success. Which I never did," Shaun was saying, a tumble of too-quick words to spill out everything he'd been privately contemplating since they'd first met. His brows lifted in question. "But all this time you've been an oracle and you didn't tell me."
I did cheat, was on the cusp of his tongue, but Nolan wasn't quite tired enough to let those words out. Just tired enough to think them, for once. He was usually so good about refusing to, but he did not have the energy to fight the insidious thought, now.
Throat tight, Nolan's short laughter sounded hollow to his own ears. Oracle. Whichever deity he owed this to, they had fucked him over. "I think oracles are supposed to prove useful." What fake, dry amusement showed in his eyes faded, and he held Shaun's gaze with gravity, and something else behind it, something almost like a plea. "This - my mutation - it isn't a blessing, Shaun."
Now it was Gilmore's turn to want to shield and protect Nolan, and keep him safe. He smoothed a feather-light touch over Nolan's forehead, ran his fingertips through the short blond hair at his temple. "Talk to me," was all he said, a soft urging but nothing more.
Exhaustion pressed down heavily on Nolan, and his gaze cut away to the side, before coming back to meet Shaun's. This was the worst moment to come out with this, when Shaun had just been through so much, but that soft request felt impossible to turn down, when Nolan might have said no to something stronger. It was the tenderness that did him in.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost entirely drained of emotion. "My brain can't handle them. Every vision is like an epileptic fit. A bad one. I'm on some drugs that are holding off most of the damage, and Professor Xavier is hopeful that he can teach my brain how to deal with them, eventually." Hope. That was all he had, but it was also everything he had.
A terrible coldness seized Shaun's chest and crept outward as Nolan explained, until he wasn't sure he could feel his toes, or even his fingers in Nolan's hair. This thing he'd just called a 'miracle' was hurting Nolan. And what was worse...
"When you had a vision today... about me. It hurt you. You wanted to help me, but... at your own expense," he said slowly, trying to fit the pieces together. It didn't all make sense yet, especially not the reasons why Nolan had kept this a secret from him. Not just from him, Shaun realized, but from everyone.
That look in Shaun's eyes. That coldness on his features. Nolan did his best to keep holding his gaze, swallowing against the urge to look away. "I was already hurt," he explained, or tried to. He didn't want Shaun to think that trying to help had meant some sort of sacrifice. That was more noble than Nolan had been by far. "Of course I tried and used the vision to help you. I only wish - I wish we could have helped."
Shaun pushed himself up enough that he could look gravely into Nolan's eyes, direct and unwavering. "Don't you dare feel guilty," he instructed in a tight whisper. "There's no one to blame but that crazy fucker who took us. I know you did everything you could, because that's what you do. The only place you went wrong was in trying to rescue someone too impulsive to sit down and wait for you." By the end of that, he almost wanted to smile. He couldn't, though. He could see that Nolan was torturing himself still, even though he had absolutely no cause to do so. Until Nolan was settled and calm, Shaun couldn't relax, either.
Nolan did smile at that, briefly, slightly, more because he was supposed to than anything else. "I'm glad you are," he said, honestly. He admired that about Shaun, actually. This refusal to sit down and wait for anything, anyone. That he had fought to get out, to get them all out. This time, his smile still wasn't exactly cheerful, but it was more genuine as he told the other boy a very simple truth, "You're amazing, Shaun Gilmore."
Coming from someone like Nolan, so brilliant and motivated and talented that he was a wealthy CEO while Shaun was still trying to finish high school... well, Shaun thought he might be a little bit blinded. Probably it was all the orgasms; Shaun really was good at those. He bent his head and rested his brow against Nolan's for just a moment. "You're pretty damn spectacular yourself, Nolan Ross."
Nolan leaned in to press a brief kiss to Shaun's lips; he didn't want a repeat of earlier, didn't want anything negative associated with them kissing, but he needed it, even for a brief moment. "Do you think I could... stay? Tonight." He would understand if Shaun needed some time to himself, of course. But he was reluctant to let him out of his sight, after spending those long hours worrying about him.
Shaun had learned his lesson, and kissed Nolan this time without closing his eyes fully, because it definitely was not the kissing that was the problem. "You'd better. I think I need to keep an eye on you," he hummed quietly. And because he needed the comfort and security of another person. And because Nolan was the only person he wanted to spend a night with.
"I'll be fine after a good night's sleep," Nolan assured him, and hoped that it would be the case. He had pushed himself today, instead of taking it easy. Belatedly, he smiled one of his soft-dry smiles at Shaun. "But if that's your reasoning for saying yes, I shouldn't talk you out of it."
God, he loved that smile. Shaun brushed one fingertip along the edge of Nolan's lower lip, like he could capture it like a drop of dew. Then he dropped his gaze, and bent down to speak quietly in Nolan's ear, no matter that they were the only ones here and everything was already private between them. "You know that's not the only reason," he promised.
Nolan closed his eyes when Shaun leaned in close, letting his voice wash over him unimpeded. To think that if 'Arcade' had had his way, Nolan would never have heard it again... He wrapped his eyes tighter around Shaun again, pulling him close. "Good," he said, quietly. "I'm not going anywhere." For more reasons than he was entirely comfortable admitting.
Shaun wasn't ready to explore those reasons out loud, either, but he was more than ready to spend the rest of the night in Nolan's arms. They could talk when Nolan was feeling better, and Shaun felt a little more settled. "Good," he echoed softly, relaxing against Nolan again. Somehow, he didn't think he was going to sleep any time soon, but if Nolan could, that was good enough.
As it turned out, Shaun had been absolutely right: he had barely slept for what remained of the night. Every time he woke up, rattled and ears ringing from the nightmare of the day, Nolan was right there beside him. His warmth and his quiet breathing had helped calm Shaun's racing heart, and Shaun had been careful not to wake him. It was the first time he'd slept through the night with another person like this. It was wonderful, sweet and comfortable, but he couldn't shake the anxiety that they might be caught and separated.
Then again, if he'd had to fight for his own life, Gilmore thought that the Professor could probably overlook the rules for a night.
Once dawn came, Shaun knew he wasn't going to be sleeping any longer, but after a restless night he was still pretty tired. When he slipped out of bed, Nolan slept on, thank goodness. Shaun sat beside him for a moment, watching him, before changing into some clean clothes and sneaking downstairs to fetch some breakfast. Maybe because it was still so early, he managed to gather up two big cups of coffee, a pile of toast, and some sausage that only needed to be microwaved, without anyone noticing. This he put on a tray and carried as quietly as possible back up to his room.
Nolan had, just as predictably, slept like the dead, weighed down by the exhaustion of yesterday's vision, and all of the anxiety that had followed. He didn't remember going to sleep, and when he woke up, he did not remember any of his dreams. Probably for the better. The last thing he remembered, he had been holding Shaun, and the first thing he noticed now was the smell of coffee. It called him like a beacon, and he rubbed his hands over his eyes, stretching in bed before realizing that this was not, in fact, his bed. Not any of his beds.
He leaned up on an elbow and immediately located the origin of the smell. And, even more important than the coffee, the boy who was carrying it. "...hi," he said, still a little disoriented at waking up, fully clothed, in a bed that wasn't his. "Did I oversleep?"
His bed hair was, as once promised, rather spectacular.
"Hey, sexy," said Shaun with a little smile, which was something he hadn't been able to summon the night before. "It's pretty early, actually. I was just up at the ass-crack of dawn." He set the tray down on one of the small craft carts he'd crammed efficiently between his bed and desk, and then wheeled it around to the side of the bed so Nolan could reach.
Even with the messy hair, Nolan looked adorable first thing in the morning. Shaun climbed back up onto the bed, facing him, his brown eyes soft and sleepy-looking. "I figured coffee and food could entice you to stay a little longer."
Nolan had pulled his phone out of his pants pocket, not because he didn't trust Shaun on the time it was, but because checking his messages was the first thing he did every morning. Shaun's last words made him look up from scrolling through them, and he set the phone aside, mechanically locking the screen. "Good thinking. I'd already be out the door, otherwise." The soft-spoken snark was the best sign there was that he was feeling much better than last night, if barely awake.
He reached up to push a lock of hair back behind Shaun's ear, and asked, quietly, his entire attention on the other boy, "How are you doing?"
Sometimes, like when he was mussed and beautiful in Shaun's bed, Gilmore forgot that Nolan had a hundred other things to do rather than lounge around with him. Nolan had a business, a schedule, and assistant for goodness' sake. Yet here he was, and here was the attention and regard of those searching blue eyes. It felt like a very tender responsibility, being the curator of Nolan's attention.
"I didn't sleep much," Shaun admitted, after suppressing that initial urge to just say fine. He turned his head toward Nolan's fingers for a moment. "My ears are still ringing. It'll get better, but I don't think I'm going to hang out by myself much for the forseeable future."
That small tilt of Shaun's head was all the encouragement Nolan needed to brush his fingers against his cheek in a tender gesture. "I'll be there as much as I can." A self-conscious shadow swept over his face, and he lowered his hand awkwardly. "Not that - I mean - I know you have lots of other people who'll be there for you." He didn't want to make it sound as if Shaun ought to rely solely on him, in any way. "But I will," he repeated, catching Shaun's gaze. "Be there."
Whenever he could, whenever Shaun wanted him to be. Nolan couldn't imagine any other way to be.
The way Nolan looked at him, that tiny pause before he spoke again, caused a stutter in Shaun's heart and a twist in his tongue. Whatever he was going to say next (he knew with a terrible clarity, and yet he couldn't stop himself) was going to be incredibly stupid.
"Thing is, Percy and Vax have each other. Loki has Duo. Warren's got his boyfriends. I'm an... interloper. I always have been, and it's always been what's best for me, except..." Yes. This was definitely an exceptionally stupid thing to say. "Except then I saw you downstairs last night, and you showed up for me. For the first time I didn't feel like someone's second choice."
Nolan, on the other hand, very much felt like a choice by default, after that list of more unavailable people. He smiled a small, dry smile at Shaun, then remarked, "I doubt that means they won't be there for you, too, if they're your friends." And Nolan doubted that they would not be Shaun's friends, whatever else some of them might be to him (Nolan wasn't going to start trying to figure out which; for all that he didn't mind, that it made sense, he also didn't want a play-by-play, or even a list).
"But I'll be there," he reiterated, and leaned in to press a soft kiss at the corner of Shaun's lips. "Of course I choose you."
Gilmore had been absolutely right; he was exceptionally stupid. When Nolan leaned close, Shaun reached to grasp his hand and hold it tightly. It was impossible to say what he wanted to say when he didn't even know the words. All of his short-lived relationships before had been about flirtation and hormones and attention -- both soaking it up, and lavishing on other pretty boys. It had never been about honest emotions, and definitely never life-or-death moments.
But, ridiculously, Shaun kept thinking about how he was keeping Nolan from his coffee. "I didn't know," Shaun said softly. "Not until last night. But I know, now. I want to be chosen by you, because you're... Nolan. You're important to me." It sounded so unnecessary, once he'd said it, but the words and the sentiment were absolutely true.
It was the sort of statement Nolan had been conditioned to doubt, after years of not being important to his father, years of social isolation, and the fact that his last (and only other) proper relationship had ended the moment his - condition - had made him more of a potential burden than Shiobhan had been willing to consider. Before today, he wouldn't even have assumed that Shaun and he might be in a relationship. They had been dating, yes. But relationship seemed to be taking things a step further, and that was a step Nolan craved for, and feared, all at once.
Some of that vulnerability played in his eyes as he held Shaun's gaze, and in the end, he licked his lips and offered, "Do you want to run away to the Hamptons next weekend?"
He didn't have the words to answer Shaun properly, but he hoped the offer would do the trick. Actions meant more than words, after all.
"I... can we do that?" Apparently every word Shaun spoke this morning was going to sound monumentally idiotic. Normally he was so good at this 'talking' thing, but his brain had abandoned him and his usually golden tongue was tarnished. Looking abashed, he reached for the cups of coffee and offered one to Nolan's hands. Maybe caffeine would jump-start Shaun's charm again.
He broke into an awkward, but sincere, smile. "I mean, yes. Yes, of course. I've never been to the Hamptons. Can we, though? Just... leave? I feel like I ought to have a permission slip," Shaun laughed quietly, blinking in a bit of a daze. "Maybe I can just sort of... not tell my folks at all. About the Hamptons or the mechanical death trap."
Nolan certainly could. He knew that students could as well; it wasn't as if Shinobi had gotten Sebastian to sign anything before they'd left for their weekend, a few months back. Now, the subject of Shaun's parents was one Nolan didn't know how to even begin to tackle. He supposed it might be weird not to tell your parents about those things, when you were actually on good terms with them? "You certainly don't have to if you don't want to," came his somewhat neutral answer, after he took a much needed sip of coffee.
"Just like the Hamptons," he added, in his soft-dry tone. "But the option is there, if you want to get away from everything." With me, he left unsaid, heart beating a little harder at the thought that he might have added those words. So he focused on logistics, and practical details. "It's completely private. The pool's heated." He could hire private, discreet security, if Shaun felt somewhat less safe there than he would be here. "Clarice would pop us over, I'm sure."
Shaun shifted closer to Nolan, still face-to-face with him, but as close as he could get without crushing Nolan against the headboard. Though... he wouldn't be opposed to crushing Nolan against the headboard a little later. "I want to," he promised, leaning toward Nolan with the emphasis. "I really. Want to. It would be just the two of us? I'd have you all to myself for two days?"
It sounded half-impossible to someone like Shaun. His parents had always been loving, but hovering, and he'd spent very little time unsupervised even at sixteen. Running away for a weekend alone with a boy that he was... seeing... seemed like a deliciously adult thing to do. Being alone with Nolan for all of that time sounded sort of like Heaven.
Nolan smiled at the question, ducking his head on that smile before catching Shaun's gaze again. "We don't have to see anyone else for a couple of days." Especially if Clarice dropped them off. The only people who would know anyone was there would be the housekeeping company, and the security company, both of whom he paid well enough to trust.
Being alone felt much more normal to Nolan, who had always spent a lot of time that way, for as long as he could remember. But it didn't make the thought of running away from the world any less delicious. Being alone with Shaun was an entirely different deal. Hopefully there would be no pressing matter for him to handle over the weekend, either.
"Well, now that's all I want to do," Shaun admitted, his smile sweetly crooked behind the rim of his coffee mug. Maybe, he thought, they could talk about trying a couple of other adult things next weekend. Wasn't that a hell of a thought. Shaun dropped a warm hand on Nolan's leg beside him, and squeezed gently. "You going to be all right, after yesterday?"
"I'll be fine," Nolan confirmed with a nod, never mind that he had no way of knowing how true that would be, long term. For now, he would be. As if to prove that, his usual soft-spoken snark made a come-back. "Save having to face Shinobi's interrogation about where I spent the night." His roommate had left a few messages. He reached up to stroke a hand through Shaun's hair, leaving his fingers tangled there. "What about you?"
"Breakfast is not going to happen if you keep doing that," Shaun whispered, his eyes slipping half-closed with Nolan's fingers in his hair. He swallowed, and admitted, "I'm probably going to need some help sleeping. I'll go back down to see the doctor later. I want to check on Percy, anyway."
Breakfast could wait, as far as Nolan was concerned. He'd had a few sips of coffee; did he really need more? The answer was, of course, yes, especially since they'd skipped dinner last night, and he would pull his hand out of Shaun's hair in just a second. But first he needed to add, "However much you want me around, let me know."
If it was up to him, they'd be in the Hamptons this weekend, but it was probably best for Shaun to stay somewhere familiar as he went through the immediate reeling from what had just happened. That only meant that Nolan would be here for Shaun as much as the other boy wanted him to be. It was a good thing that it was Saturday; he didn't have much planned.
Shaun took Nolan's lingering touch as an invitation to lean in and touch his lips to the other boy's cheek. He didn't know what he'd done to earn this kind of devotion from Nolan, and he was a little afraid to ask. "You've been in the same clothes since yesterday, and I'm going to bet you haven't eaten. You forget about those things when you get focused, don't you? I don't want you wearing yourself out for my sake. We're going to eat, and shower, and check on the others from yesterday, and you're going to answer your roommate's intrusive questions..."
He was smiling by the end of that list, and his voice dropped into the deep, musical tease he used when he was charming people on purpose. "You have my express permission to be as explicit as you like, by the way. I've got no shame."
That, of course, made Nolan chuckle slightly. "Neither does he." What they had gotten up to last night would be sure to disappoint Shinobi, in any case, and he wasn't the sort to share those details with anyone, anyway - much to the sadness of his roommate.
He gave Shaun a small smile, and a nod. "Eat, shower, check in. It's a good plan."
"Just one of my many talents," Shaun assured him. He glanced down, squeezed Nolan's leg once more, and added, "Though if you want to hold my hand through most of that, I certainly will not object." If Nolan wanted that. If Nolan didn't mind other people seeing it.
Right then, Nolan would hold his hand on national television if Shaun wanted him to. He didn't even need a second to think about it, but gave Shaun a small, dry smile. "I'm sure Kitty will forgive my absence." He would text her, of course, to let her know not to expect him in the workshop today, where they often worked together during the weekends. He set his mug down on his knee, hand holding it in place, and leaned in to give Shaun a soft kiss, almost shy about the emotions it conveyed. "Perhaps the hand-holding can wait until after breakfast, though."
Shaun felt like that kiss, brief and careful as it was, delved straight down into him and bloomed with a deeply confusing, deeply joyful warmth. He still didn't know what it meant, that Nolan had seen visions of him, that Nolan had waited for him, or that Nolan was staying with him now. It felt so good that he didn't want to question it too deeply. He just wanted to keep feeling it for as long as it lasted.
"I guess I can relinquish your hands until then," he agreed, and looked up to gaze into Nolan's eyes for a long moment, with a depth in his dark eyes nearly as intimate as a kiss.
There was something about the way Shaun was looking at him that rendered Nolan unable to break eye contact and turn to their breakfast at last, as he had planned. He looked back at the other boy with equal measures incredulity and wonder, and any rejoinder he might have made died on his lips before they could shape them. He huffed out a quiet, slightly awkward laugh, and remembered the mug in his hand, absolutely using the pretext of taking a sip to look away, and compose himself.
"I promise you'll get them back afterwards," he assured Shaun, and hoped that he didn't look as vulnerable as he felt.
It was probably a really good thing Nolan looked away first, or else Shaun didn't know what he might have said. Something had definitely been forming on the tip of his tongue, though he had no idea what, and he'd much prefer to have some time to examine any words sternly before he actually said them. Swallowing hard, he turned away too, and picked up the platter of somewhat less-than-piping-hot toast and sausage he'd picked up from the kitchen. Balancing the plate half on his legs and half on Nolan's, he commented wryly, "You're the only person allowed to get toast crumbs in my bed, so, consider feeling honored."
They could probably both use a break from the intensity of... whatever was happening between them.
Nolan was grateful for that reprieve, but instead of acknowledging that (it would somewhat defeat the purpose), he glanced dryly at Shaun as he picked up a piece of toast. He hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday; the temperature of the toast mattered very little at this stage. He would eat just about anything edible. "What, you'd kick the others out of bed for eating crackers?"
Shaun's hand froze momentarily on a bit of toast. The others. Nolan had been pretty clear that he didn't want to know details about Vax and Percy, or Loki, or whatever else he got up to when he was feeling snuggly with his friends. Yes, he'd said it first, but he hadn't meant to imply he regularly had other people in the bed. (He didn't. Not... regularly.) If it was a joke, Shaun was glad Nolan could joke about it, but...
Nolan is different, came a thought as clear as a bell in the back of his mind. He didn't know how Nolan was different, but he knew.
"I'd kick myself out for eating crackers," Shaun finally settled on with a little smile, and attempted to munch neatly on his toast. "I have no desire to wake up with Ritz bits up my ass."
Well, the mental picture definitely was amusing, and Nolan's lips quirked up with it. "I'll be very careful," he promised Shaun, and did, in fact, cup a hand under the toast when he bit into it, so he could then upend the crumbs back on the plate, where they belonged.
He probably would have done it without prompting, anyway. No one liked sleeping on crumbs, and Nolan was a naturally tidy person.
Nolan was a naturally beautiful person. His quiet tone and calm kept Shaun feeling even and steady, and the hinted smiles he offered were like jewels Shaun couldn't help questing after. Nolan made him feel like things were going to be okay. Even in a world where they were in danger not just from hate groups and public opinion, but even from their own genetic abilities, Shaun was on Nolan's side and Nolan was on his. That was worth all the toast crumbs in the world.
Also, long. The log covers a night and the next morning.
There were many things Nolan disliked about his mutation, beyond the obvious fact that it risked damaging his brain. But he was making progress, with the Professor's help, and the drugs helped reduce any damage in the meantime. One of the other things at the top of the list of things he disliked about his mutation was the way his mind felt after a vision. Sluggish, drowsy, as if he'd just woken up and couldn't quite get his brain into gear. He was used to a certain clarity of thought, a rapidity and responsiveness from his mind that he just didn't get in the hours following a vision. He felt properly disabled in those hours, with memories escaping him, trains of thought suddenly getting away from him, and the slight tremor that came and went in his hands.
It had been excruciating, having to let Tessa and Kitty do the heavy lifting of research, while he sat back and tried, desperately, to pull more details from a vision that twisted out of his grasp much like a dream whenever he reached for it. But this was neither here nor there. Their efforts had been too little, too late, and the kidnapped students were back - Shaun was back - before an X-Team might have been sent to extract them. All was well that ended well.
Nolan had finally gone to Simon for one of his usual post-vision check-ups, and now he was pacing outside the infirmary, waiting for Shaun to be released. He looked slightly better than earlier, having remembered to tuck his shirt back into his pants, but his hair was still disheveled; there was only so much he had thought to fix.
Somehow, Shaun had made it out of this nightmare day both alive and relatively unharmed. Compared to the others who had also woken up in Murderworld that day, he'd practically gotten off scot-free. Minor abrasions, they'd said in the infirmary. A ringing in the ears from the noise and the explosions. Deeply, fantastically frayed nerves -- which weren't helped by the sudden immense chasm of guilt he'd experienced as he watched the others being treated for their injuries, their shock, and their trauma. He'd gotten them out alive, running on bravado, wit, and the hottest, reddest fury he'd ever felt in his life.
Now... Shaun just wanted to go somewhere and hide. And maybe throw up a lot.
When he stepped out of the infirmary and shut the door behind himself to silence the medical murmurings and stifle the smell of antiseptic, he didn't expect to see Nolan standing right there. Indeed, Shaun hadn't expected to see Nolan at all. They saw plenty of one another, day to day (even when they weren't seeing every last inch of each other). Nolan's room was just across the hall, and there were texts and emails, smiles and winks, and whenever Shaun thought he could get away with it, a soft greeting of hey, sexy as they passed each other. They hadn't talked about being public with their relationship, but they weren't exactly private, either. He hadn't had reason to ask himself if he and Nolan were at a stage of their relationship where they would haunt the halls for one another if the other was hurt or in danger. Had Nolan been... waiting for him?
"Hey, sexy," Shaun whispered as his heart did its best to climb up into his throat.
Nolan hadn't really been thinking about what came next. He'd just been fixated on seeing Shaun, and he hadn't taken the thought any further than that. And he had known that Shaun was all right. Back, and all right. This was not news. So he hadn't expected the wave of relief and - something else - that hit him when the other boy stepped out of the infirmary. He found that he had no words to answer, and only managed, after a few long seconds, a fac simile of his usual smile, and a quiet, "Hey." Quiet, but not quiet enough to hide the strain in his voice.
And then, before he could think any better of it, he had wrapped his arms around Shaun's shoulders and closed his eyes in sweet, blessed relief. Shaun was all right.
For a second or two, Shaun felt like he were made of sticks, or stuffed full of straw, and wasn't actually a part of his body at all. Nolan's arms felt so warm and so real, and here was Shaun, feeling like he'd been disassembled and put back together with a few pieces missing. (Just like he'd done to those robots that had been so recently trying to kill him.) Then he inhaled, and the scent of Nolan that he knew so well, that meant warmth and surrender and total unquestioning acceptance, flooded over him. It caught in his throat, and the breath shuddered in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around Nolan's waist and back and buried his head in the other boy's shoulder.
He had been pushing hard for hours and hours, knowing that if he stopped thinking or stopped working, he could die. Percy could die. Jean-Paul and Wynonna and Lil could die. Now, all of that forward momentum seemed to catch up with him, slamming into him and shattering into bright spiky shards of emotions he couldn't even try to name. The force of it might have broken him apart, but... Nolan was here to catch him. Shaun gave a long, trembling exhale, and just clung to him for a minute.
Clinging was all Nolan seemed capable of just then. Shaun was there, in his arms, and hugging him back. What else was there but to cling? Especially after... "I was so scared," he whispered, this time, knowing better than to trust his voice, and not entirely sure whether he wanted Shaun to hear the admission. He didn't remember ever being so scared in his life, the sort of fear that seeped cold throughout all of him, that sat churning in his stomach and weighed on him with every passing moment.
But he forced himself to lean back just enough to be able to look at Shaun, concern clear on his face. "Are you -" He cleared his throat when his voice still wouldn't cooperate. "How are you?"
Nolan sounded so faint and far away, and yet, his embrace had been almost desperately strong. What had Shaun done to merit this kind of reaction? He was almost afraid to pull back and see what might be there on Nolan’s face, or hiding in his sky blue eyes. Shaun didn’t know what to do with his own feelings, jangling up and down his nerves and rattling through his chest, let alone try to fathom Nolan’s.
But, hesitantly, he loosened his hold and let Nolan see him, though he didn’t look up right away. “I....” I’m okay was too obviously a lie, but Shaun couldn’t sort through his residual fear and anger and the startling new bloom of fierce possessive-longing-relief in his heart to come up with an explanation that sounded suitably Gilmore. “I’m not hurt,” he finally promised, and only then did he lift his eyes to meet Nolan’s.
Nolan, who looked worn and drawn and actually gray. Way worse than Shaun’s missing hours warranted. “Jesus, what about you?”
Nolan reached out to cradle Shaun's face when he finally looked up, and his hand paused for just an instant at his question, at the shock in his eyes, before his hand resumed its course, fingers brushing tenderly against Shaun's cheek before settling along his jaw. Not hurt meant what it meant, and Nolan felt an instinctive need to touch Shaun, tenderly and steadily, as if to assure himself that he was here.
"I'll be fine," he answered, hoping he wasn't lying, in the grand scheme of things. He would be better after getting some sleep, at least, but he did not want to walk away from Shaun for now. His hand trailed off of Shaun's face to rest over his collarbone as Nolan glanced around, then looked back at Shaun. "Let's get out of here?"
No, I'm good, Shaun thought half-hysterically. Let's just stand here in this hallway forever and you can keep touching me like this, like I'm the only thing you want to touch in the whole world.
Because, really, he didn't want to move. When you saw moments like this in the movies, you could wish that you were her or him and that someone would look at you like that. He didn't realize, he had no idea, how overwhelming it could be when it actually happened. Shaun didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve Nolan looking at him like this, touching him like... like he was something precious. He didn't want it to end, even if it meant staying here in public just like this, possibly for the rest of time.
Shaun was silent for way too long, he knew. He was looking into Nolan's eyes in searching disbelief, and it was probably going to weird Nolan out if it went on too long. "S... sure," he finally said, unsteadily, his throat oddly dry. "My place?"
Nolan wasn't weirded out so much as vaguely concerned, but he was also not firing on all cylinders, and he was glad to let the moment pass without remark when Shaun finally replied. "Your place," he confirmed, without a hint of the dry amusement that would usually have come with using the phrase for a dorm room.
He had been grateful in the past - very grateful - for the fact that Shaun did not yet have a roommate. But he was more grateful for it now than ever before.
For now, his hand settled on the side of Shaun's face, fingers threaded through his hair, as Nolan pressed a relieved kiss to his forehead. It felt like an affirmation - of what, he couldn't have said - but one that he had to make before pulling back, and holding his hand out to Shaun, for them to go.
Honestly, Shaun was faintly concerned about both of them making it up the stairs and back to Room 110 -- Nolan because he looked so exhausted and wrung out, and himself because he wasn't sure he could feel all of his limbs. It wasn't just the trauma and the confusing emotional battery. Nolan had kissed him and held his hand dozens of times since they'd started dating, and he'd never felt like his feet weren't quite in contact with the earth. ... maybe it was just shock. Maybe.
He wrapped his hand around Nolan's, good and tight so he could feel it, and they made their way up through the halls and stairs back to Gilmore's room.
By now it was dark outside and very late, but the small lamp on Shaun's desk was on its usual Sebastian-assisted timer. Everything in the room took on a faintly golden cast. Shaun hadn't bothered to make his bed before going out with Percy earlier that day, and the room was a generally comfortable mess. Very comfortable to Shaun, who breathed a deep sigh and leaned against Nolan's side as they stepped in and closed the door behind them. "Fucking hell," he whispered, like he couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do now, faced with the very simple task of just getting to bed.
It wasn't the first time Nolan came to Shaun's room, but everything felt different right then. It wasn't him walking back to his room after a long day's work, seeing Shaun's door open, and knocking on it softly before slipping inside for some conversation - or more, when the mood took them (they were teenage boys; the mood tended to take them). The room might be its usual warm self, with that vanilla-spice scent in the air that Nolan was fairly certain he could not smell without thinking of Shaun, now, but it registered as something different. It registered as safe, a haven for both of them, rather than simply as Shaun's space, into which Nolan was fortunate enough to be allowed. In that moment, and probably in that moment alone, it felt like their shelter.
Not that Nolan was quite aware of all of this, not with his brain so foggy; he only acknowledged that sense of safety when the release of some of his emotional tension had tears prickle the back of his eyes. He pulled his hand back from Shaun's to wrap his arms around him again, and closed his eyes against the threatening tears. "You can say that again," he managed to say, lips brushing Shaun's hair, his voice still a little hoarse (he had likely abused it while seizing); a valiant try at his usual dry tone, but one missing by about a mile.
"Hey..." Shaun curled his arms around Nolan in return, nearly dumbfounded by this reaction. Only nearly, though; very little actually could strike Shaun Gilmore silent. For the first time, he sort of wished he had a better term of endearment than 'sexy.' To be fair, it was the first time in his life that 'sexy' just wasn't enough. He tucked in close, slowly stroking Nolan's back with one hand. "Hey... I'm here. I'm here."
His own voice was a little weak and uncertain. The way Nolan sounded, the way Nolan was holding him like he might disappear again... Shaun didn't know how or why or even when it had happened, but he understood, without words, that he was important to Nolan in a way he hadn't understood before. It left him weak in the knees, and his head reeling too dizzily to think about what that meant. Without speaking, and without letting go of him, Shaun drew Nolan toward his messy bed to sit him down there before they both collapsed of exhaustion.
"Sorry," Nolan said as they took a seat. He'd successfully managed to blink back his tears - or so it felt to him - and he pulled back to look at Shaun with a small, apologetic, self-conscious smile, his hands on his arms. Apologizing for having emotions, or at least letting them show; something he definitely owed his father. "I'm not used to... being scared like that."
It felt like he was saying more, with those words, or like maybe he should be? But he couldn't quite get there, his mind refusing to go the extra mile, and him all out of energy to force it to. He raised a hand to Shaun's face and stroked his thumb over his cheek, focusing on his presence here all over again. "How are you? Is there anything I can do?"
Shaun took a second to kick off his boots, which had been pretty torn up and worn out by the ordeal, and would probably never shine again. Then, oh, then, he could curl up half in Nolan's lap and nudge him to lean back into the pile of pillows that always decorated his bed. Nolan didn't look like he was going to be holding himself upright for much longer, anyway.
"You can not let go of me," Shaun suggested, soft and breathless, words he hadn't meant to say. He'd meant to bluff and promise he was fine, maybe make a tender little joke, but he couldn't. His hands had started trembling, and he was pretty sure that it would take over his entire body if he didn't have Nolan's arms around him. His hands curled into to tight fistfuls of Nolan's shirt. "We were supposed to die," he heard himself confessing in a voice that hardly sounded like his own, absent of the rich confidence and charming purr he usually cultivated. "That's what it was for. The entire place was designed to kill us, and he didn't even know our names."
Nolan went willingly, wrapping his arms back around Shaun as he leaned back - and then holding him a little tighter at his words, his whisper, what sounded all too close to a plea and made Nolan's heart ache for him. He wasn't going to, was what he was saying with that gesture. He wasn't going to let go, and he turned his head towards Shaun's head, cheek pressing against his hair.
The tears came back with Shaun's even admission, all too even, nothing of the vibrant boy Nolan knew in it. Nolan closed his eyes against them, and listened to Shaun. "I'm sorry," he whispered, both an expression of sympathy and an apology, for all that there was no reason that Shaun should expect the latter, or recognize it as such. What was the point of his mutation, and everything that came with it, if he could not even spare someone he cared for such experiences? "What happened to him?" Whoever he was.
"Don't know. Don't care." Shaun's shoulders bowed, and he lay his head on Nolan's shoulder. The way Nolan was holding him, wrapping around him, made Shaun want to melt against him the way he'd done so many times in this very bed. Only he couldn't, somehow. Something was wrong. What Shaun hadn't quite managed to calculate was the meaning of all the little things that were wrong with Nolan: the exhaustion, the uncharacteristic displays of emotion, the tightness in his voice and... Shaun had never seen or heard Nolan cry. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would have said with confidence that it wasn't possible. Not Nolan, and not over Shaun.
"He liked to talk, though. Called himself 'Arcade.' He..." his voice choked, but not on fear or anger or tears. It sounded, actually, like he wanted to laugh. "He built a giant mechanical death machine, Nolan, and he dropped me inside it."
Shaun Gilmore, who had been pulling things apart and putting them back together since he was ten. Who only had to touch a device to know what it was for and how it worked. Who could tell copper from steel from sterling silver by the way it felt in his hand. Who could build anything out of anything -- and take it apart just as easily.
Shaun might not care to know, but Nolan did. He made a mental note of the name, and vowed to himself that he would scour every inch of the dark web until he found the man... starting when he was in any state to concentrate on that sort of activity. And when Shaun was no longer in his arms, but that would sadly probably come before the former. "More the fool him," he agreed, sounding slightly more like himself not that he had an objective, even if he could not start working towards it straight away.
He cradled Shaun's face again, the gesture tender and confident, but that confidence all to do with Nolan's faith in Shaun. His eyes were mostly dry again as he met Shaun's gaze, and he asked, a hint of one of his soft-dry smiles on his lips, "Did you give him hell?" He did not imagine the answer to be anything but 'yes'.
The realization that Shaun might never have looked into those blue eyes again, might never have seen that hint of smile that he worked so hard to earn and adored to see, hit him so hard that he almost couldn't breathe for a second. It hurt to even think about it, but looking away would hurt even more. He met Nolan's gaze for a long time before he managed to un-fist one hand, and lay the backs of his fingers against Nolan's cheek in silent acknowledgement. I see your tears, but I won't make you admit to them.
"Explosively," he finally promised, eyes narrowing just a little with the memory of it. "Nolan, I was so... angry. I wasn't going to go out like that. I wasn't going to let Percy go out like that, or any of the others. I was hell-bent on showing that asshole what a mistake he'd made, targeting us. I don't know if he survived." And he didn't care. At least, not yet.
"And here I thought you would need help," Nolan whispered, his tone full of admiration. He hadn't realized, until this moment, that it wasn't that his vision had been useless. It was that Shaun had not needed any help. Shaun had been amazingly, frighteningly well suited to getting all of them out of there. Shaun had been a hero, and not in the X-sense. It hadn't been about training, and going out there with a team. It had been having his back to a wall, and stepping up, performing admirably under duress, when his life and those of the others had been on the line. While a maniac with too much money and time on his hands tried to have them all killed.
Nolan did not know what to do with the swell of admiration inside him, so he kissed Shaun, closing his eyes and pressing their lips together, both with that surge of feeling, and with the ongoing relief of Shaun's return.
Shaun gave a soft sound of mingled surprise and longing, and immediately curled his hand around the back of Nolan's neck. Out of habit, out of warm relief, his eyes slipped closed and he kissed Nolan sweetly. He had been strong, he knew that, but he'd been so frightened and so furious at the same time. That didn't feel like something that deserved a reward as delicious as Nolan's regard, not to mention Nolan's kisses. It was almost too much to feel all at once.
Apparently his head agreed with his heart, because behind the darkness of his closed eyes flashed the disorienting carnival lights of Murderworld, the bewildering blackness of Percy's smoke form, the terrifying explosions going off all around him. Shaun inhaled sharply and pulled back, blinking his eyes open rapidly. "I... sorry. It's not you, it's... I... sorry," he whispered, swallowing hard.
"It's all right," Nolan told him, stroking the side of Shaun's face. "It's all over, Shaun." He pulled him into another hug, warm and steady in a way Nolan wasn't sure he could have been if he had to keep looking into Shaun's frightened eyes. That look did not long in Shaun's eyes, and seeing it there made Nolan's heart clench painfully. So he hugged him, and turned his head into him to kiss his hair. "You're back."
Things they both needed to hear, for how well Nolan could imagine the sort of memory to put that look in Shaun's eyes, for having witnessed some of them himself. He had spent hours trying to remember more, and here he was now, trying to ignore the images pressing on his brain, now that he had thought of them.
Shaun's arms tightened around Nolan again, and though he didn't close his eyes, he did let himself soften and relax. Laying there in Nolan's arms felt safe. He felt safe. Something inside Nolan that burned hot and bright and steady had somehow enveloped him in Nolan's protection, and Shaun hadn't even realized it was there. Had he been blind for the last two months, or just stupid? Or... maybe it was as new to Nolan as it was to him?
He rested his head against Nolan's shoulder, unnameable emotions and unasked questions at war with each other in his bewildered heart. One hand lay on Nolan's chest, fingers spread out to feel the quiet, reassuring pulse of his heart. "You thought I needed help?" Shaun asked after a little while. He wasn't going to sleep, and he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking. He did feel a little guilty for keeping Nolan awake, though.
For a few seconds, Nolan couldn't understand the question. He understood the words, and he understood it on a basic level. But he didn't understand why Shaun was asking. When it finally clicked into place, he felt stupid for not seeing it earlier. He was quiet for a moment longer, trying to think of ways to get out of explaining with a mind that did not want to cooperate, even as he wondered how much he wanted to get out of it. He didn't want Shaun to think of him like that (dying, with a deficient brain), but on the other hand, he also wanted to share this with him. He didn't know which urge was the most selfish.
"You never did ask about my mutation," Nolan said quietly, looking up at the ceiling. It was a statement, and it was gratitude. It took a few more long seconds before he managed to get the next words out. "I get - visions, sometimes. I - it wasn't enough to - I wish it could've helped," he blurted out, desperate for Shaun to know that they had tried, that he had tried, but that it hadn't been enough. None of it had been enough. "It was too late, when we found something you - you were already out."
This was very wrong. This wasn't the self-possessed, centered, privately passionate Nolan that Shaun knew. He had almost never known Nolan to stammer, or to struggle with words. Or even to speak before thinking, really. Nolan hadn't even finished speaking before Shaun lifted his head and pushed himself up to gaze down at Nolan in befuddled wonder. All of his thick wavy hair was a tangled mess, shoved over to one side and tumbling down the side of his face, threatening but not quite falling in his eyes.
He stared, yes, but he didn't pull away. Nolan sounded like he was apologizing, which was patently ridiculous, so Shaun touched two fingertips briefly to Nolan's lips to still the rush of uncharacteristic words. His dark gaze darted from Nolan's lips to his eyes to the rest of his aristocratically chiseled features, now shaped in a guilty expression such as Shaun had never seen. "You... you're a fucking miracle, aren't you?" he breathed, sounding awed. "You have visions? You had one... about me?"
Nolan did not know what to do with the way Shaun was looking at him, never mind the words he was saying. "Trust me," he replied, his tone as close to his usual dryness as Shaun would have heard it today, "there's nothing miraculous about them." He took Shaun's hand in his, and brought it to his lips to press a kiss to it, to help himself ward off the leftover urgency from the wisps of the vision he could remember, like a nightmare he couldn't quite shake. "I saw you in one of those... balls? There was -" he winced a little, the memory loud in his mind, "an explosion."
Shaun clutched Nolan's hand tightly and did not let go. "That definitely happened," he agreed breathlessly. Nolan couldn't have heard the details from someone else already. The five of them had only been to the infirmary and only spoken to the adults there.
"You never told me. I could tell you didn't want me to ask. I thought your mutation was something to do with electronics, that you were like me, but with computers, and you didn't... you didn't want me to think you'd somehow cheated your way into success. Which I never did," Shaun was saying, a tumble of too-quick words to spill out everything he'd been privately contemplating since they'd first met. His brows lifted in question. "But all this time you've been an oracle and you didn't tell me."
I did cheat, was on the cusp of his tongue, but Nolan wasn't quite tired enough to let those words out. Just tired enough to think them, for once. He was usually so good about refusing to, but he did not have the energy to fight the insidious thought, now.
Throat tight, Nolan's short laughter sounded hollow to his own ears. Oracle. Whichever deity he owed this to, they had fucked him over. "I think oracles are supposed to prove useful." What fake, dry amusement showed in his eyes faded, and he held Shaun's gaze with gravity, and something else behind it, something almost like a plea. "This - my mutation - it isn't a blessing, Shaun."
Now it was Gilmore's turn to want to shield and protect Nolan, and keep him safe. He smoothed a feather-light touch over Nolan's forehead, ran his fingertips through the short blond hair at his temple. "Talk to me," was all he said, a soft urging but nothing more.
Exhaustion pressed down heavily on Nolan, and his gaze cut away to the side, before coming back to meet Shaun's. This was the worst moment to come out with this, when Shaun had just been through so much, but that soft request felt impossible to turn down, when Nolan might have said no to something stronger. It was the tenderness that did him in.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost entirely drained of emotion. "My brain can't handle them. Every vision is like an epileptic fit. A bad one. I'm on some drugs that are holding off most of the damage, and Professor Xavier is hopeful that he can teach my brain how to deal with them, eventually." Hope. That was all he had, but it was also everything he had.
A terrible coldness seized Shaun's chest and crept outward as Nolan explained, until he wasn't sure he could feel his toes, or even his fingers in Nolan's hair. This thing he'd just called a 'miracle' was hurting Nolan. And what was worse...
"When you had a vision today... about me. It hurt you. You wanted to help me, but... at your own expense," he said slowly, trying to fit the pieces together. It didn't all make sense yet, especially not the reasons why Nolan had kept this a secret from him. Not just from him, Shaun realized, but from everyone.
That look in Shaun's eyes. That coldness on his features. Nolan did his best to keep holding his gaze, swallowing against the urge to look away. "I was already hurt," he explained, or tried to. He didn't want Shaun to think that trying to help had meant some sort of sacrifice. That was more noble than Nolan had been by far. "Of course I tried and used the vision to help you. I only wish - I wish we could have helped."
Shaun pushed himself up enough that he could look gravely into Nolan's eyes, direct and unwavering. "Don't you dare feel guilty," he instructed in a tight whisper. "There's no one to blame but that crazy fucker who took us. I know you did everything you could, because that's what you do. The only place you went wrong was in trying to rescue someone too impulsive to sit down and wait for you." By the end of that, he almost wanted to smile. He couldn't, though. He could see that Nolan was torturing himself still, even though he had absolutely no cause to do so. Until Nolan was settled and calm, Shaun couldn't relax, either.
Nolan did smile at that, briefly, slightly, more because he was supposed to than anything else. "I'm glad you are," he said, honestly. He admired that about Shaun, actually. This refusal to sit down and wait for anything, anyone. That he had fought to get out, to get them all out. This time, his smile still wasn't exactly cheerful, but it was more genuine as he told the other boy a very simple truth, "You're amazing, Shaun Gilmore."
Coming from someone like Nolan, so brilliant and motivated and talented that he was a wealthy CEO while Shaun was still trying to finish high school... well, Shaun thought he might be a little bit blinded. Probably it was all the orgasms; Shaun really was good at those. He bent his head and rested his brow against Nolan's for just a moment. "You're pretty damn spectacular yourself, Nolan Ross."
Nolan leaned in to press a brief kiss to Shaun's lips; he didn't want a repeat of earlier, didn't want anything negative associated with them kissing, but he needed it, even for a brief moment. "Do you think I could... stay? Tonight." He would understand if Shaun needed some time to himself, of course. But he was reluctant to let him out of his sight, after spending those long hours worrying about him.
Shaun had learned his lesson, and kissed Nolan this time without closing his eyes fully, because it definitely was not the kissing that was the problem. "You'd better. I think I need to keep an eye on you," he hummed quietly. And because he needed the comfort and security of another person. And because Nolan was the only person he wanted to spend a night with.
"I'll be fine after a good night's sleep," Nolan assured him, and hoped that it would be the case. He had pushed himself today, instead of taking it easy. Belatedly, he smiled one of his soft-dry smiles at Shaun. "But if that's your reasoning for saying yes, I shouldn't talk you out of it."
God, he loved that smile. Shaun brushed one fingertip along the edge of Nolan's lower lip, like he could capture it like a drop of dew. Then he dropped his gaze, and bent down to speak quietly in Nolan's ear, no matter that they were the only ones here and everything was already private between them. "You know that's not the only reason," he promised.
Nolan closed his eyes when Shaun leaned in close, letting his voice wash over him unimpeded. To think that if 'Arcade' had had his way, Nolan would never have heard it again... He wrapped his eyes tighter around Shaun again, pulling him close. "Good," he said, quietly. "I'm not going anywhere." For more reasons than he was entirely comfortable admitting.
Shaun wasn't ready to explore those reasons out loud, either, but he was more than ready to spend the rest of the night in Nolan's arms. They could talk when Nolan was feeling better, and Shaun felt a little more settled. "Good," he echoed softly, relaxing against Nolan again. Somehow, he didn't think he was going to sleep any time soon, but if Nolan could, that was good enough.
*****
As it turned out, Shaun had been absolutely right: he had barely slept for what remained of the night. Every time he woke up, rattled and ears ringing from the nightmare of the day, Nolan was right there beside him. His warmth and his quiet breathing had helped calm Shaun's racing heart, and Shaun had been careful not to wake him. It was the first time he'd slept through the night with another person like this. It was wonderful, sweet and comfortable, but he couldn't shake the anxiety that they might be caught and separated.
Then again, if he'd had to fight for his own life, Gilmore thought that the Professor could probably overlook the rules for a night.
Once dawn came, Shaun knew he wasn't going to be sleeping any longer, but after a restless night he was still pretty tired. When he slipped out of bed, Nolan slept on, thank goodness. Shaun sat beside him for a moment, watching him, before changing into some clean clothes and sneaking downstairs to fetch some breakfast. Maybe because it was still so early, he managed to gather up two big cups of coffee, a pile of toast, and some sausage that only needed to be microwaved, without anyone noticing. This he put on a tray and carried as quietly as possible back up to his room.
Nolan had, just as predictably, slept like the dead, weighed down by the exhaustion of yesterday's vision, and all of the anxiety that had followed. He didn't remember going to sleep, and when he woke up, he did not remember any of his dreams. Probably for the better. The last thing he remembered, he had been holding Shaun, and the first thing he noticed now was the smell of coffee. It called him like a beacon, and he rubbed his hands over his eyes, stretching in bed before realizing that this was not, in fact, his bed. Not any of his beds.
He leaned up on an elbow and immediately located the origin of the smell. And, even more important than the coffee, the boy who was carrying it. "...hi," he said, still a little disoriented at waking up, fully clothed, in a bed that wasn't his. "Did I oversleep?"
His bed hair was, as once promised, rather spectacular.
"Hey, sexy," said Shaun with a little smile, which was something he hadn't been able to summon the night before. "It's pretty early, actually. I was just up at the ass-crack of dawn." He set the tray down on one of the small craft carts he'd crammed efficiently between his bed and desk, and then wheeled it around to the side of the bed so Nolan could reach.
Even with the messy hair, Nolan looked adorable first thing in the morning. Shaun climbed back up onto the bed, facing him, his brown eyes soft and sleepy-looking. "I figured coffee and food could entice you to stay a little longer."
Nolan had pulled his phone out of his pants pocket, not because he didn't trust Shaun on the time it was, but because checking his messages was the first thing he did every morning. Shaun's last words made him look up from scrolling through them, and he set the phone aside, mechanically locking the screen. "Good thinking. I'd already be out the door, otherwise." The soft-spoken snark was the best sign there was that he was feeling much better than last night, if barely awake.
He reached up to push a lock of hair back behind Shaun's ear, and asked, quietly, his entire attention on the other boy, "How are you doing?"
Sometimes, like when he was mussed and beautiful in Shaun's bed, Gilmore forgot that Nolan had a hundred other things to do rather than lounge around with him. Nolan had a business, a schedule, and assistant for goodness' sake. Yet here he was, and here was the attention and regard of those searching blue eyes. It felt like a very tender responsibility, being the curator of Nolan's attention.
"I didn't sleep much," Shaun admitted, after suppressing that initial urge to just say fine. He turned his head toward Nolan's fingers for a moment. "My ears are still ringing. It'll get better, but I don't think I'm going to hang out by myself much for the forseeable future."
That small tilt of Shaun's head was all the encouragement Nolan needed to brush his fingers against his cheek in a tender gesture. "I'll be there as much as I can." A self-conscious shadow swept over his face, and he lowered his hand awkwardly. "Not that - I mean - I know you have lots of other people who'll be there for you." He didn't want to make it sound as if Shaun ought to rely solely on him, in any way. "But I will," he repeated, catching Shaun's gaze. "Be there."
Whenever he could, whenever Shaun wanted him to be. Nolan couldn't imagine any other way to be.
The way Nolan looked at him, that tiny pause before he spoke again, caused a stutter in Shaun's heart and a twist in his tongue. Whatever he was going to say next (he knew with a terrible clarity, and yet he couldn't stop himself) was going to be incredibly stupid.
"Thing is, Percy and Vax have each other. Loki has Duo. Warren's got his boyfriends. I'm an... interloper. I always have been, and it's always been what's best for me, except..." Yes. This was definitely an exceptionally stupid thing to say. "Except then I saw you downstairs last night, and you showed up for me. For the first time I didn't feel like someone's second choice."
Nolan, on the other hand, very much felt like a choice by default, after that list of more unavailable people. He smiled a small, dry smile at Shaun, then remarked, "I doubt that means they won't be there for you, too, if they're your friends." And Nolan doubted that they would not be Shaun's friends, whatever else some of them might be to him (Nolan wasn't going to start trying to figure out which; for all that he didn't mind, that it made sense, he also didn't want a play-by-play, or even a list).
"But I'll be there," he reiterated, and leaned in to press a soft kiss at the corner of Shaun's lips. "Of course I choose you."
Gilmore had been absolutely right; he was exceptionally stupid. When Nolan leaned close, Shaun reached to grasp his hand and hold it tightly. It was impossible to say what he wanted to say when he didn't even know the words. All of his short-lived relationships before had been about flirtation and hormones and attention -- both soaking it up, and lavishing on other pretty boys. It had never been about honest emotions, and definitely never life-or-death moments.
But, ridiculously, Shaun kept thinking about how he was keeping Nolan from his coffee. "I didn't know," Shaun said softly. "Not until last night. But I know, now. I want to be chosen by you, because you're... Nolan. You're important to me." It sounded so unnecessary, once he'd said it, but the words and the sentiment were absolutely true.
It was the sort of statement Nolan had been conditioned to doubt, after years of not being important to his father, years of social isolation, and the fact that his last (and only other) proper relationship had ended the moment his - condition - had made him more of a potential burden than Shiobhan had been willing to consider. Before today, he wouldn't even have assumed that Shaun and he might be in a relationship. They had been dating, yes. But relationship seemed to be taking things a step further, and that was a step Nolan craved for, and feared, all at once.
Some of that vulnerability played in his eyes as he held Shaun's gaze, and in the end, he licked his lips and offered, "Do you want to run away to the Hamptons next weekend?"
He didn't have the words to answer Shaun properly, but he hoped the offer would do the trick. Actions meant more than words, after all.
"I... can we do that?" Apparently every word Shaun spoke this morning was going to sound monumentally idiotic. Normally he was so good at this 'talking' thing, but his brain had abandoned him and his usually golden tongue was tarnished. Looking abashed, he reached for the cups of coffee and offered one to Nolan's hands. Maybe caffeine would jump-start Shaun's charm again.
He broke into an awkward, but sincere, smile. "I mean, yes. Yes, of course. I've never been to the Hamptons. Can we, though? Just... leave? I feel like I ought to have a permission slip," Shaun laughed quietly, blinking in a bit of a daze. "Maybe I can just sort of... not tell my folks at all. About the Hamptons or the mechanical death trap."
Nolan certainly could. He knew that students could as well; it wasn't as if Shinobi had gotten Sebastian to sign anything before they'd left for their weekend, a few months back. Now, the subject of Shaun's parents was one Nolan didn't know how to even begin to tackle. He supposed it might be weird not to tell your parents about those things, when you were actually on good terms with them? "You certainly don't have to if you don't want to," came his somewhat neutral answer, after he took a much needed sip of coffee.
"Just like the Hamptons," he added, in his soft-dry tone. "But the option is there, if you want to get away from everything." With me, he left unsaid, heart beating a little harder at the thought that he might have added those words. So he focused on logistics, and practical details. "It's completely private. The pool's heated." He could hire private, discreet security, if Shaun felt somewhat less safe there than he would be here. "Clarice would pop us over, I'm sure."
Shaun shifted closer to Nolan, still face-to-face with him, but as close as he could get without crushing Nolan against the headboard. Though... he wouldn't be opposed to crushing Nolan against the headboard a little later. "I want to," he promised, leaning toward Nolan with the emphasis. "I really. Want to. It would be just the two of us? I'd have you all to myself for two days?"
It sounded half-impossible to someone like Shaun. His parents had always been loving, but hovering, and he'd spent very little time unsupervised even at sixteen. Running away for a weekend alone with a boy that he was... seeing... seemed like a deliciously adult thing to do. Being alone with Nolan for all of that time sounded sort of like Heaven.
Nolan smiled at the question, ducking his head on that smile before catching Shaun's gaze again. "We don't have to see anyone else for a couple of days." Especially if Clarice dropped them off. The only people who would know anyone was there would be the housekeeping company, and the security company, both of whom he paid well enough to trust.
Being alone felt much more normal to Nolan, who had always spent a lot of time that way, for as long as he could remember. But it didn't make the thought of running away from the world any less delicious. Being alone with Shaun was an entirely different deal. Hopefully there would be no pressing matter for him to handle over the weekend, either.
"Well, now that's all I want to do," Shaun admitted, his smile sweetly crooked behind the rim of his coffee mug. Maybe, he thought, they could talk about trying a couple of other adult things next weekend. Wasn't that a hell of a thought. Shaun dropped a warm hand on Nolan's leg beside him, and squeezed gently. "You going to be all right, after yesterday?"
"I'll be fine," Nolan confirmed with a nod, never mind that he had no way of knowing how true that would be, long term. For now, he would be. As if to prove that, his usual soft-spoken snark made a come-back. "Save having to face Shinobi's interrogation about where I spent the night." His roommate had left a few messages. He reached up to stroke a hand through Shaun's hair, leaving his fingers tangled there. "What about you?"
"Breakfast is not going to happen if you keep doing that," Shaun whispered, his eyes slipping half-closed with Nolan's fingers in his hair. He swallowed, and admitted, "I'm probably going to need some help sleeping. I'll go back down to see the doctor later. I want to check on Percy, anyway."
Breakfast could wait, as far as Nolan was concerned. He'd had a few sips of coffee; did he really need more? The answer was, of course, yes, especially since they'd skipped dinner last night, and he would pull his hand out of Shaun's hair in just a second. But first he needed to add, "However much you want me around, let me know."
If it was up to him, they'd be in the Hamptons this weekend, but it was probably best for Shaun to stay somewhere familiar as he went through the immediate reeling from what had just happened. That only meant that Nolan would be here for Shaun as much as the other boy wanted him to be. It was a good thing that it was Saturday; he didn't have much planned.
Shaun took Nolan's lingering touch as an invitation to lean in and touch his lips to the other boy's cheek. He didn't know what he'd done to earn this kind of devotion from Nolan, and he was a little afraid to ask. "You've been in the same clothes since yesterday, and I'm going to bet you haven't eaten. You forget about those things when you get focused, don't you? I don't want you wearing yourself out for my sake. We're going to eat, and shower, and check on the others from yesterday, and you're going to answer your roommate's intrusive questions..."
He was smiling by the end of that list, and his voice dropped into the deep, musical tease he used when he was charming people on purpose. "You have my express permission to be as explicit as you like, by the way. I've got no shame."
That, of course, made Nolan chuckle slightly. "Neither does he." What they had gotten up to last night would be sure to disappoint Shinobi, in any case, and he wasn't the sort to share those details with anyone, anyway - much to the sadness of his roommate.
He gave Shaun a small smile, and a nod. "Eat, shower, check in. It's a good plan."
"Just one of my many talents," Shaun assured him. He glanced down, squeezed Nolan's leg once more, and added, "Though if you want to hold my hand through most of that, I certainly will not object." If Nolan wanted that. If Nolan didn't mind other people seeing it.
Right then, Nolan would hold his hand on national television if Shaun wanted him to. He didn't even need a second to think about it, but gave Shaun a small, dry smile. "I'm sure Kitty will forgive my absence." He would text her, of course, to let her know not to expect him in the workshop today, where they often worked together during the weekends. He set his mug down on his knee, hand holding it in place, and leaned in to give Shaun a soft kiss, almost shy about the emotions it conveyed. "Perhaps the hand-holding can wait until after breakfast, though."
Shaun felt like that kiss, brief and careful as it was, delved straight down into him and bloomed with a deeply confusing, deeply joyful warmth. He still didn't know what it meant, that Nolan had seen visions of him, that Nolan had waited for him, or that Nolan was staying with him now. It felt so good that he didn't want to question it too deeply. He just wanted to keep feeling it for as long as it lasted.
"I guess I can relinquish your hands until then," he agreed, and looked up to gaze into Nolan's eyes for a long moment, with a depth in his dark eyes nearly as intimate as a kiss.
There was something about the way Shaun was looking at him that rendered Nolan unable to break eye contact and turn to their breakfast at last, as he had planned. He looked back at the other boy with equal measures incredulity and wonder, and any rejoinder he might have made died on his lips before they could shape them. He huffed out a quiet, slightly awkward laugh, and remembered the mug in his hand, absolutely using the pretext of taking a sip to look away, and compose himself.
"I promise you'll get them back afterwards," he assured Shaun, and hoped that he didn't look as vulnerable as he felt.
It was probably a really good thing Nolan looked away first, or else Shaun didn't know what he might have said. Something had definitely been forming on the tip of his tongue, though he had no idea what, and he'd much prefer to have some time to examine any words sternly before he actually said them. Swallowing hard, he turned away too, and picked up the platter of somewhat less-than-piping-hot toast and sausage he'd picked up from the kitchen. Balancing the plate half on his legs and half on Nolan's, he commented wryly, "You're the only person allowed to get toast crumbs in my bed, so, consider feeling honored."
They could probably both use a break from the intensity of... whatever was happening between them.
Nolan was grateful for that reprieve, but instead of acknowledging that (it would somewhat defeat the purpose), he glanced dryly at Shaun as he picked up a piece of toast. He hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday; the temperature of the toast mattered very little at this stage. He would eat just about anything edible. "What, you'd kick the others out of bed for eating crackers?"
Shaun's hand froze momentarily on a bit of toast. The others. Nolan had been pretty clear that he didn't want to know details about Vax and Percy, or Loki, or whatever else he got up to when he was feeling snuggly with his friends. Yes, he'd said it first, but he hadn't meant to imply he regularly had other people in the bed. (He didn't. Not... regularly.) If it was a joke, Shaun was glad Nolan could joke about it, but...
Nolan is different, came a thought as clear as a bell in the back of his mind. He didn't know how Nolan was different, but he knew.
"I'd kick myself out for eating crackers," Shaun finally settled on with a little smile, and attempted to munch neatly on his toast. "I have no desire to wake up with Ritz bits up my ass."
Well, the mental picture definitely was amusing, and Nolan's lips quirked up with it. "I'll be very careful," he promised Shaun, and did, in fact, cup a hand under the toast when he bit into it, so he could then upend the crumbs back on the plate, where they belonged.
He probably would have done it without prompting, anyway. No one liked sleeping on crumbs, and Nolan was a naturally tidy person.
Nolan was a naturally beautiful person. His quiet tone and calm kept Shaun feeling even and steady, and the hinted smiles he offered were like jewels Shaun couldn't help questing after. Nolan made him feel like things were going to be okay. Even in a world where they were in danger not just from hate groups and public opinion, but even from their own genetic abilities, Shaun was on Nolan's side and Nolan was on his. That was worth all the toast crumbs in the world.
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Date: 2018-05-08 12:58 am (UTC)THIS WAS SO CUTE!
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Date: 2018-05-08 01:25 am (UTC)Thanks, we think so too.
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Date: 2018-05-08 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-05-09 11:29 am (UTC)