![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Gilmore & Warren (very backdated)
Warren coaxes Gilmore out into public after Murderworld, where Gilmore asks for advice on dating incredibly wealthy shy boys, and Warren asks for ideas about wing jewelry. Everyone is both fashionable and adorable.
Gilmore hadn't been out in public since that little incident where he'd been snatched off the street and dumped into an automated murder machine -- which was, granted, enough to leave anyone jumpy and suspicious. The ensuing weeks after, though, put things into perspective. He hadn't been blown up (much). He hadn't been experimented on (really). And he hadn't been detained for months in a psychotic research facility from hell (which he still almost couldn't believe was real, but, there was Molly). The kids coming in to Xavier's from the recent rescue mission had gone through hell and come out fighting. Gilmore had realized pretty quickly that, no matter how much his parents freaked or Nolan worried, he couldn't just live in fear.
Going out to lunch in Warren Worthington The Third's company was as much a giant middle finger to the world as it was a genuine chance to enjoy a swank meal with a fascinating friend. Warren's busy schedule recently meant that Gilmore either had to grab at the invitation when he offered, or risk losing the opportunity. Of course, he said yes. Hell, he even offered to drive.
Warren had picked the location and Shaun researched it ruthlessly online, so he knew that his shirt and waistcoat combo in complementary shades of purple, sans tie but pro pocket square, were right on point for the atmosphere. Still, he felt weirdly exposed as he sat down across from Warren, and unconsciously glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to his lunch date. "Very nice. I'm living for the artwork they've got up here."
Warren had opted for a similar style, but in his own way, going with a casual sport coat and a pink shirt unbuttoned as far down as was decent--perfectly tailored to his wings. Well aware that going anywhere with him could be daunting, considering the attention he garnered, he tried his best to make Gilmore feel--if not comfortable, at least well-armed. He leaned forward a little when he talked and made sure to keep his eyes on Gilmore's when they spoke. Not that it was a hardship. Big brown eyes ftw.
"It's been a while since I went out anywhere nice," he admitted. At least, if he didn't count the Hellfire Club, to which Shinobi made it a point to take him on the regular, just to annoy both of their fathers. "Thanks for giving me the excuse." He settled with his wings draped over the back of the stool they'd already had in place when he'd arrived.
Did Warren really have to be so gorgeous? Obviously, other people would stare. Gilmore had been prepared for that. He just struggled not to stare himself -- Nolan or not, sexy boyfriend trio of Warren's notwithstanding. If he didn't have to behave impeccably (since Warren clearly didn't mind a little flirting), then Gilmore might just manage.
"I would say 'anytime,' but I'm not sure my wardrobe could withstand it," he chuckled good-naturedly. "But I'm glad we have this chance to talk. I do hope you'll let me pick your brain a bit, though I can promise you I am not here for hot stock tips."
Warren's smile went a little lopsided and a little smirky. "Pick away. I was hoping to do the same, actually. I think I miss you, Gilmore."
"Aww," Gilmore cooed, his eyes glinting with laughter. "Well, I never meant to deprive you of all this." He fluttered a demonstrative gesture over his general self: hair, clothes, et cetera.
"But, ah... I don't know how close you are with Nolan Ross, but he and I are... seeing each other." Gilmore normally didn't have much trouble talking about his dates, but ever since Murderworld, he and Nolan had gotten much, much closer. Nolan was special. Gilmore didn't want to fuck this up. "And honestly, I don't have the first idea how to date someone from his world." Your world went unsaid, because Gilmore didn't want to alienate Warren in the least.
"Like... what even is a 'gala'?"
"Hell on earth," Warren said with a chuckle. "Or heaven, depending. I kind of like them.
"It's basically like a ball, or a super fancy dance, but the tickets and whatever else goes on there money-wise goes to charity." Warren smiled. "So you go, see and be seen supporting something worthwhile, feel like you did something epic even though you're still going back home to swim in your money bin, that kind of thing. But the people watching is off the chain. Nolan will be the perfect date--you guys will be the best dressed and most appreciated."
Gilmore's brows lifted, and his brown eyes cast down toward the menu as though it were somehow more interesting than Warren's face. (Not humanly possible, but he could make a good showing.) "I don't actually know if I'm going to be his date. This event he's planning is something of a middle finger to the business establishment, I gather. It's in support of mutant business; I'm a mutant entrepreneur. I don't know if I'm a guest or a potential investment. And I'm... not positive Nolan's ready to be known as queer in public," he added in a much quieter voice.
Warren nodded. “I get it. Simon’s like that too. They’re both—you know, play it close to the chest kind of guys. But he’s a decent dude.” Which was Warren’s way of saying he doubted Gilmore wouldn’t be his date.
He leaned in even closer for the next bit: “I’ve been hoping I could take both my boyfriends to the gala, but I get why Simon’s not ready for all that.” He sat back. “We’ve all put a lot on the line already.”
"You really have," Gilmore agreed. He hadn't gotten involved, but he had followed the tale of the trio's coming-out. "And you took a lot of shit for it that I don't think you really deserved, but you've handled admirably. Will it be just you and Jean-Paul, then? I hope he's all right after... everything that happened."
He touched a finger to the delicious-looking pasta on the menu he'd decided on, and glanced up at Warren with a significant brow. Saying the (ridiculous) word 'Murderworld' out loud in public seemed far too real.
Warren nodded, smiling wryly. Jean-Paul wouldn't want anyone else to know about the nightmares, but Gilmore was smart enough he probably didn't need to be told about lingering PTSI. "He's seen enough shit in his life, but I think that must've been the weirdest. Thanks for asking, though. That... was freaky. Just when I think people can't more out there..." He ruffled his feathers in unconscious annoyance, eying his own menu finally.
"I thought Nolan was going to tear himself to pieces, after we came back," murmured Shaun confidentially. "I was pretty rattled, but... he was definitely making plans somewhere in his head that I knew nothing about. Might never know anything about." He grimaced, faintly, though it was close enough to a smile to pass. "If you have any advice about dating genius wunderkind prodigies, by the way...
"Ha! I think Simon would say I'm the worst possible person, for that." Warren snorted but smiled. "All I do is let him know I want to talk and then let him decide when he wants to. Sometimes it even works.
"You, uh. You guys aren't having any nightmares or anything, are you?" Way to sound casual, Worthington....
Gilmore smiled crookedly at the comment about Simon. That was, pretty much, exactly how he'd approached things with Nolan. It seemed like it had worked out fairly well.
"I'm not exactly getting my best sleep, but it's gotten steadily better since that day. Now that I've got Molly in the room, it's oddly even easier to sleep. He's been through so much worse, I think my subconscious has decided to forfeit. As for Percy... I couldn't say. He's got Vax, and he's not exactly forthcoming about his inner feelings to begin with." Gilmore rubbed lightly at his beard. "I haven't talked with Wynonna or Lil at all. Jean-Paul and Lil had very different experiences than the rest of us, though."
Warren nodded, "That's what I hear. I'm glad the new roommate is working out though. Molly seems... really fascinating," Warren admitted. He couldn't get a read on the guy from the forums, but if his presence helped Gilmore sleep, he had to be decent.
This was a subject to which Gilmore could warm fully. "Mollymauk is the absolute twin of my heart," he gushed, but he gushed very sincerely, touching a hand to his heart. "I don't have any siblings, but if I did, I couldn't ask for one more perfect than him. He has such an eye for fashion, and is practically made to decorate. We've been creating together." And for Gilmore, that was something joyful and intimate, almost better than kissing.
There was just something about Gilmore's gushing that made Warren genuinely happy. The guy had an aura of excitement that was refreshing--rejuvenating, even. It was impossible to be lazy around Gilmore. "What are you working on?"
"Well, he has..." Gilmore paused, breaking off when the waiter stopped by to take their orders. It was almost guaranteed that someone was listening in to their conversation, but that didn't mean Gilmore was going to go out of his way to discuss private mutant business in front of anyone. No matter how discreet Warren assured him they were.
Once they were safely alone again, he continued in private tones, "Molly is graced with the most incredible curled horns tucked into his hair." As illustration, Gilmore sketched with one fingertip on his bread plate with a droplet of condensation from his water glass: a subtle spiral, like the horn of a ram. "This presents a whole new universe of jewelry possibilities heretofore unexplored. I am no longer limited to hands, ears, and necks, Warren -- as much as I adore those parts of the body," he added in a much more Gilmore-ish low flirty purr.
Okay, when he did that thing with his voice, Warren had to admit that he found Gilmore absurdly attractive. What? He had boyfriends, but he still had eyes... and ears. He chuckled and looked legitimately delighted. "I can see why that'd be exciting. Kind of makes me wonder what you'd come up with for wings..."
Gilmore laced his fingers into a bridge and rested his finely-bearded chin on them, focusing on Warren across the table with just the hint of a smile. He might be remarkably dewy-eyed over Nolan at present, but this was Warren. Gilmore gave him an arched brow like he was contemplating a particularly tempting dessert buffet. "As if you need further decoration. I'd almost feel badly for interfering with such pure perfection, but my fervent belief is that more is more. Do you want to be draped in jewels, Angel?"
More like put in hawk jesses, but Warren didn't know Gilmore quite well enough to start talking actual fantasies, so he just grinned. "I wouldn't mind showing up to an event with something new and shiny. Maybe some kind of... wing cuff or something. Though you're not wrong about it interfering with perfection." He chuckled.
"Cuffs I can fashion," Shaun assured him, confidently. "But I can see from here that your joints are significantly larger than the average wrist, which means all my mandrels are for naught. I'd need to take very precise measurements to ensure a custom fit." Which meant that Warren would have to let Gilmore touch him, and his wings, and while Gilmore himself was not about to argue that necessity, certain other interested parties might.
All of this was said around his valiant attempts to fight back a bursting grin, if not an outright laugh. "I am going to meet the wrong end of your boyfriends' fists, it's inevitable," Gilmore sighed, amused.
"Not if they think it's hot, which they will." Warren grinned. He considered telling Shaun about the collar JP had given him for Christmas... but then decided against that too. Someday. In a more appropriate venue. "I was thinking something that kind of hangs off here" --his wings curled slightly upward so he could reach the top of one, just along the ridge at the edge of it, where it stuck out-- "like one on an ear, you know?"
“Oh, I’m picturing it,” Gilmore agreed with lifted brows. His mental picture was very pretty indeed. “I can do that. And you’ll tell the paparazzi who you’re wearing, won’t you?”
"Totally. Gilmore's Glorious Goods is my exclusive jewelry provider." Warren winked again.
Gilmore raised his eyes to heaven briefly, and pressed a hand over his heart. "That is the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me," he breathed with exaggerated emotion.
Warren laughed out loud--at a polite volume, of course, not to draw more attention than he already did just by existing. "I speak only the truth. Sadly you won't sell many more of the wing-cuffs, but maybe it'll inspire ear cuff purchases?"
Well, that was part of the plan, but... "You know that I like you for much more than your capacity as a walking advertisement, yes?" Gilmore just needed to be sure. It wasn't a good feeling, thinking you were being used for your popularity. That might have happened to him before.
With a wink and a nod, Warren assured him, "Of course. Who wouldn't, right?"
"Absolutely," Gilmore promised in return, honestly smiling now. "You're a treasure, Warren. I... appreciate this. Today. I needed it."
Warren understood. JP needed distraction, entertainment, affection too, after their ordeal. "I'm glad I could be here for it," he said, all earnestness now. "Any time you need to be taken out and have someone discuss fashion with you, I'm down, okay?"
All of Warren's warmth and kindness was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds that had been hanging around in Gilmore's mind. So there was really only one thing he could say to such an offer. He smiled. "Glorious.."
Gilmore hadn't been out in public since that little incident where he'd been snatched off the street and dumped into an automated murder machine -- which was, granted, enough to leave anyone jumpy and suspicious. The ensuing weeks after, though, put things into perspective. He hadn't been blown up (much). He hadn't been experimented on (really). And he hadn't been detained for months in a psychotic research facility from hell (which he still almost couldn't believe was real, but, there was Molly). The kids coming in to Xavier's from the recent rescue mission had gone through hell and come out fighting. Gilmore had realized pretty quickly that, no matter how much his parents freaked or Nolan worried, he couldn't just live in fear.
Going out to lunch in Warren Worthington The Third's company was as much a giant middle finger to the world as it was a genuine chance to enjoy a swank meal with a fascinating friend. Warren's busy schedule recently meant that Gilmore either had to grab at the invitation when he offered, or risk losing the opportunity. Of course, he said yes. Hell, he even offered to drive.
Warren had picked the location and Shaun researched it ruthlessly online, so he knew that his shirt and waistcoat combo in complementary shades of purple, sans tie but pro pocket square, were right on point for the atmosphere. Still, he felt weirdly exposed as he sat down across from Warren, and unconsciously glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to his lunch date. "Very nice. I'm living for the artwork they've got up here."
Warren had opted for a similar style, but in his own way, going with a casual sport coat and a pink shirt unbuttoned as far down as was decent--perfectly tailored to his wings. Well aware that going anywhere with him could be daunting, considering the attention he garnered, he tried his best to make Gilmore feel--if not comfortable, at least well-armed. He leaned forward a little when he talked and made sure to keep his eyes on Gilmore's when they spoke. Not that it was a hardship. Big brown eyes ftw.
"It's been a while since I went out anywhere nice," he admitted. At least, if he didn't count the Hellfire Club, to which Shinobi made it a point to take him on the regular, just to annoy both of their fathers. "Thanks for giving me the excuse." He settled with his wings draped over the back of the stool they'd already had in place when he'd arrived.
Did Warren really have to be so gorgeous? Obviously, other people would stare. Gilmore had been prepared for that. He just struggled not to stare himself -- Nolan or not, sexy boyfriend trio of Warren's notwithstanding. If he didn't have to behave impeccably (since Warren clearly didn't mind a little flirting), then Gilmore might just manage.
"I would say 'anytime,' but I'm not sure my wardrobe could withstand it," he chuckled good-naturedly. "But I'm glad we have this chance to talk. I do hope you'll let me pick your brain a bit, though I can promise you I am not here for hot stock tips."
Warren's smile went a little lopsided and a little smirky. "Pick away. I was hoping to do the same, actually. I think I miss you, Gilmore."
"Aww," Gilmore cooed, his eyes glinting with laughter. "Well, I never meant to deprive you of all this." He fluttered a demonstrative gesture over his general self: hair, clothes, et cetera.
"But, ah... I don't know how close you are with Nolan Ross, but he and I are... seeing each other." Gilmore normally didn't have much trouble talking about his dates, but ever since Murderworld, he and Nolan had gotten much, much closer. Nolan was special. Gilmore didn't want to fuck this up. "And honestly, I don't have the first idea how to date someone from his world." Your world went unsaid, because Gilmore didn't want to alienate Warren in the least.
"Like... what even is a 'gala'?"
"Hell on earth," Warren said with a chuckle. "Or heaven, depending. I kind of like them.
"It's basically like a ball, or a super fancy dance, but the tickets and whatever else goes on there money-wise goes to charity." Warren smiled. "So you go, see and be seen supporting something worthwhile, feel like you did something epic even though you're still going back home to swim in your money bin, that kind of thing. But the people watching is off the chain. Nolan will be the perfect date--you guys will be the best dressed and most appreciated."
Gilmore's brows lifted, and his brown eyes cast down toward the menu as though it were somehow more interesting than Warren's face. (Not humanly possible, but he could make a good showing.) "I don't actually know if I'm going to be his date. This event he's planning is something of a middle finger to the business establishment, I gather. It's in support of mutant business; I'm a mutant entrepreneur. I don't know if I'm a guest or a potential investment. And I'm... not positive Nolan's ready to be known as queer in public," he added in a much quieter voice.
Warren nodded. “I get it. Simon’s like that too. They’re both—you know, play it close to the chest kind of guys. But he’s a decent dude.” Which was Warren’s way of saying he doubted Gilmore wouldn’t be his date.
He leaned in even closer for the next bit: “I’ve been hoping I could take both my boyfriends to the gala, but I get why Simon’s not ready for all that.” He sat back. “We’ve all put a lot on the line already.”
"You really have," Gilmore agreed. He hadn't gotten involved, but he had followed the tale of the trio's coming-out. "And you took a lot of shit for it that I don't think you really deserved, but you've handled admirably. Will it be just you and Jean-Paul, then? I hope he's all right after... everything that happened."
He touched a finger to the delicious-looking pasta on the menu he'd decided on, and glanced up at Warren with a significant brow. Saying the (ridiculous) word 'Murderworld' out loud in public seemed far too real.
Warren nodded, smiling wryly. Jean-Paul wouldn't want anyone else to know about the nightmares, but Gilmore was smart enough he probably didn't need to be told about lingering PTSI. "He's seen enough shit in his life, but I think that must've been the weirdest. Thanks for asking, though. That... was freaky. Just when I think people can't more out there..." He ruffled his feathers in unconscious annoyance, eying his own menu finally.
"I thought Nolan was going to tear himself to pieces, after we came back," murmured Shaun confidentially. "I was pretty rattled, but... he was definitely making plans somewhere in his head that I knew nothing about. Might never know anything about." He grimaced, faintly, though it was close enough to a smile to pass. "If you have any advice about dating genius wunderkind prodigies, by the way...
"Ha! I think Simon would say I'm the worst possible person, for that." Warren snorted but smiled. "All I do is let him know I want to talk and then let him decide when he wants to. Sometimes it even works.
"You, uh. You guys aren't having any nightmares or anything, are you?" Way to sound casual, Worthington....
Gilmore smiled crookedly at the comment about Simon. That was, pretty much, exactly how he'd approached things with Nolan. It seemed like it had worked out fairly well.
"I'm not exactly getting my best sleep, but it's gotten steadily better since that day. Now that I've got Molly in the room, it's oddly even easier to sleep. He's been through so much worse, I think my subconscious has decided to forfeit. As for Percy... I couldn't say. He's got Vax, and he's not exactly forthcoming about his inner feelings to begin with." Gilmore rubbed lightly at his beard. "I haven't talked with Wynonna or Lil at all. Jean-Paul and Lil had very different experiences than the rest of us, though."
Warren nodded, "That's what I hear. I'm glad the new roommate is working out though. Molly seems... really fascinating," Warren admitted. He couldn't get a read on the guy from the forums, but if his presence helped Gilmore sleep, he had to be decent.
This was a subject to which Gilmore could warm fully. "Mollymauk is the absolute twin of my heart," he gushed, but he gushed very sincerely, touching a hand to his heart. "I don't have any siblings, but if I did, I couldn't ask for one more perfect than him. He has such an eye for fashion, and is practically made to decorate. We've been creating together." And for Gilmore, that was something joyful and intimate, almost better than kissing.
There was just something about Gilmore's gushing that made Warren genuinely happy. The guy had an aura of excitement that was refreshing--rejuvenating, even. It was impossible to be lazy around Gilmore. "What are you working on?"
"Well, he has..." Gilmore paused, breaking off when the waiter stopped by to take their orders. It was almost guaranteed that someone was listening in to their conversation, but that didn't mean Gilmore was going to go out of his way to discuss private mutant business in front of anyone. No matter how discreet Warren assured him they were.
Once they were safely alone again, he continued in private tones, "Molly is graced with the most incredible curled horns tucked into his hair." As illustration, Gilmore sketched with one fingertip on his bread plate with a droplet of condensation from his water glass: a subtle spiral, like the horn of a ram. "This presents a whole new universe of jewelry possibilities heretofore unexplored. I am no longer limited to hands, ears, and necks, Warren -- as much as I adore those parts of the body," he added in a much more Gilmore-ish low flirty purr.
Okay, when he did that thing with his voice, Warren had to admit that he found Gilmore absurdly attractive. What? He had boyfriends, but he still had eyes... and ears. He chuckled and looked legitimately delighted. "I can see why that'd be exciting. Kind of makes me wonder what you'd come up with for wings..."
Gilmore laced his fingers into a bridge and rested his finely-bearded chin on them, focusing on Warren across the table with just the hint of a smile. He might be remarkably dewy-eyed over Nolan at present, but this was Warren. Gilmore gave him an arched brow like he was contemplating a particularly tempting dessert buffet. "As if you need further decoration. I'd almost feel badly for interfering with such pure perfection, but my fervent belief is that more is more. Do you want to be draped in jewels, Angel?"
More like put in hawk jesses, but Warren didn't know Gilmore quite well enough to start talking actual fantasies, so he just grinned. "I wouldn't mind showing up to an event with something new and shiny. Maybe some kind of... wing cuff or something. Though you're not wrong about it interfering with perfection." He chuckled.
"Cuffs I can fashion," Shaun assured him, confidently. "But I can see from here that your joints are significantly larger than the average wrist, which means all my mandrels are for naught. I'd need to take very precise measurements to ensure a custom fit." Which meant that Warren would have to let Gilmore touch him, and his wings, and while Gilmore himself was not about to argue that necessity, certain other interested parties might.
All of this was said around his valiant attempts to fight back a bursting grin, if not an outright laugh. "I am going to meet the wrong end of your boyfriends' fists, it's inevitable," Gilmore sighed, amused.
"Not if they think it's hot, which they will." Warren grinned. He considered telling Shaun about the collar JP had given him for Christmas... but then decided against that too. Someday. In a more appropriate venue. "I was thinking something that kind of hangs off here" --his wings curled slightly upward so he could reach the top of one, just along the ridge at the edge of it, where it stuck out-- "like one on an ear, you know?"
“Oh, I’m picturing it,” Gilmore agreed with lifted brows. His mental picture was very pretty indeed. “I can do that. And you’ll tell the paparazzi who you’re wearing, won’t you?”
"Totally. Gilmore's Glorious Goods is my exclusive jewelry provider." Warren winked again.
Gilmore raised his eyes to heaven briefly, and pressed a hand over his heart. "That is the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me," he breathed with exaggerated emotion.
Warren laughed out loud--at a polite volume, of course, not to draw more attention than he already did just by existing. "I speak only the truth. Sadly you won't sell many more of the wing-cuffs, but maybe it'll inspire ear cuff purchases?"
Well, that was part of the plan, but... "You know that I like you for much more than your capacity as a walking advertisement, yes?" Gilmore just needed to be sure. It wasn't a good feeling, thinking you were being used for your popularity. That might have happened to him before.
With a wink and a nod, Warren assured him, "Of course. Who wouldn't, right?"
"Absolutely," Gilmore promised in return, honestly smiling now. "You're a treasure, Warren. I... appreciate this. Today. I needed it."
Warren understood. JP needed distraction, entertainment, affection too, after their ordeal. "I'm glad I could be here for it," he said, all earnestness now. "Any time you need to be taken out and have someone discuss fashion with you, I'm down, okay?"
All of Warren's warmth and kindness was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds that had been hanging around in Gilmore's mind. So there was really only one thing he could say to such an offer. He smiled. "Glorious.."