Jean-Paul and Warren, backdated
Apr. 6th, 2018 10:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainThe Boys do the press junket. Sometimes it's less fun than others, but at least JP doesn't kill anyone?
They'd done about a million interviews and photoshoots, yet Warren and Jean-Paul were managing--somehow--not to look too bored by this one. It was a big deal, a major national glossy mag known for being on the better end of "real" journalism... while still providing an aesthetic experience with cutting edge photography.
Warren had an impish urge to grab Jean-Paul by the belt and pull him in close in front of the cameras... but that kind of stuff was better left til they were both 18, next year. Totally.
Instead, they finished mugging for the cameras and sat across a coffee table from their interviewer, a young woman with tortoiseshell glasses and a look that said she was out to make her name. Perrier, a carafe of tap water, and an assortment of snacks were artfully strewn on the glass table surface. Warren swiped a mineral water and cracked it open before even settling himself on the ottoman provided. He draped his wings just as artfully behind him, well aware that, as usual, eyes were on him to see how he did things. So he did them as gracefully as possible. As usual. Then turned to JP with a look that said he was only narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes.
Jean-Paul, for his part, was engaging in a different manipulation. He'd picked a mini-bag of Skittles out of the candy bowl on the table; he had no intention of eating them, but all that mattered was that they were seen in his hands in a couple of the interview photos. Supposedly little touches like that were supposed to be candid and humanizing, a little bit of "oh, I like the things he likes, so he must be OK". His former agent had observed it tended to work quite well for him, until he opened his mouth.
He tossed Warren a lazy, fond look in return. Once more into the breech.
Warren's mouth tipped into an answering, understanding smile just as the interviewer started in on them:
"So, I'm Indira Bennett, and I've been with the magazine for five years now. It's exciting to meet you two--I begged for this assignment. There's so much surrounding you guys right now, like this swirl of social issues, cutting edge science. I'm keen to get into it. Are you ready?"
Warren shot Jean-Paul a brief, amused glance, then nodded and took a sip of his water.
Jean-Paul leaned in, arms folded loosely over his chest. "Fire away."
She hit a little button on her digital recorder and crossed her legs, then leaned forward. "Great. Let's start out with the latest developments: the recent terrorist attack and the protest that followed soon after."
"Sorry, just need to cut in here for a second, but the protest was being planned before the attack," Warren said, voice level, polite, slight smile in place that never touched his eyes. Practice had made perfect.
"So you two are acquainted with the organizers?"
Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow. "My sister was at that rally. Did you think we were completely ignorant?"
Indira smiled slyly, effectively admitting this was going to be a cat and mouse game. Or so she thought. "She was also part of the group that broke up the so-called human rights rally months before, wasn't she?"
Warren hurried to jump in first, but artfully tried to look like he wasn't, "If I remember correctly, all she did was evacuate people in potential danger. And I really hope you're not trying to compare kids reacting to hate speech with an actual terrorist action by the Brotherhood."
"It does raise the question of just why the mam'selle lobbied so hard to get this assignment," Jean-Paul agreed, addressing himself to Warren and deliberately using the diminutive, despite Bennett being older than either of them. "It would be a shame to cut this short."
Warren's smile touched his eyes, then--and if possibly, there would've been hearts in them. He even let out a little laugh, mostly air, but genuinely happy. Jean-Paul was so hot when he was dickmoving someone, but especially when they deserved it as much as this reporter. "It really would," he agreed, then turned his attention to Ms. Bennett again. "Better change your tack. His reputation is deserved--and I gotta say, I love it."
Indira looked flustered, cheeks darkening pink, but only for a moment. She shook it off and composed her expression again. "Then let's leave family to one side for now."
"Smart," Warren said with a smirk and another heart-eyed look at JP.
Indira ignored him, but politely. Suitably chastised. "And let's talk about some other aspects of the protest. At least one of the organizers made some headlines talking about how not all mutants are rich white boys. It looked like a swipe at you guys."
Warren rolled his eyes. "Now you're twisting her words."
"Not to mention deliberately swerving onto the median to miss a valid point," Jean-Paul added. "It's never done any minority any good to have one voice drown out all others. Warren and I have an excellent platform to spread awareness of certain issues. It doesn't mean we're the only ones with a point of view that needs to be heard. It's not ego to say that, had Warren and I been at that rally, the vast majority of the camera time reserved for mutants would have gone to us. And that's hardly fair, considering the resources we already have at our disposal."
"So you weren't invited?" Indira's eyes flashed indignation at being out-maneuvered by Jean-Paul so quickly, but she held it together admirably.
"We talked about it with the organizers and decided it was better to boost the signal in other ways," Warren said, ever-so-patiently. Shen had been anti, Kurt had been willing. It was the only answer that was fair to both of them and still vague enough to be infuriating to Ms. Bennett, here. "It was about giving a voice to people who haven't had one yet, like Jean-Paul said. Nice try, though."
Indira almost smiled. Almost. "In your view, what voices most need to be heard today, when it comes to mutant issues?"
"You really are determined to go to the hilt with this whole 'divide and conquer' line of questioning, non?" Jean-Paul gave her a cool, dagger-edged smile. "When it comes to mutant issues, mutant voices are the ones that most need to be heard right now, not lawmakers or pundits. And that is difficult because most are in a vulnerable position: powerful enough to genuinely frighten people, but too young to have much say in our own futures. I'd wager the majority of mutants out there right now are below the age to vote. We are uniquely disenfranchised, and so we need to do a tremendous amount of heavy lifting just to be taken seriously."
Before the interviewer could get her mouth all the way open, Warren jumped in with, "So pile that on top of all the other reasons teenagers and other young people might be dismissed: 'Oh, he's not bisexual, he just wants attention', 'Oh, she's black, or he's Asian so--', 'Oh, he doesn't look like a "normal" human, so--', 'Oh, he's from this or that kind of family, so--'
"Basically the more society would try to dismiss someone, the more important their voices are right now, as mutants. The goal is to represent a cross-section of mutant voices, not just the ones people would normally hear if we weren't mutants."
"Let's talk for a moment about looking like a 'normal' human. You both have what's being referred to as 'physical' mutations, to some extent," Indira said, glancing down at her notes then back up quickly. "Do you see it as a hindrance or a help--both personally and in the larger, more general sense?"
Warren narrowly avoided facepalming.
Jean-Paul's smile ticked a notch wider, even as his eyes narrowed. "Now, Indira. If I asked you if your being an attractive woman has been more of a hindrance or a help in your life and career, that would be a rather loaded, one might even say patronizing, question, don't you think?"
Okay, now Warren was trying not to laugh. "But if we're being honest..."
Indira glared briefly at Jean-Paul, which was very much her way of giving him the victory point. "Fair enough, but yes, if we're being honest, it's a help."
"Physical mutations are too varied for us to answer that for anyone but ourselves--and peoples' reactions to them are just as varied. It's an impossible question to answer accurately," Warren pointed out. "Though having to get everything tailored is annoying, I will say that."
Indira still looked disappointed, but plowed ahead. "Physical mutations aside--career-wise, especially for you, Jean-Paul, being a mutant has meant serious adjustment. What's next for you in that arena?"
"More adjustment," Jean-Paul deadpanned, but then relented. It was a fair question. "I'm looking at the possibility of exhibition matches on the extreme circuit so far as my future in sports is concerned. Obviously, I have some elements I can put into my performance that most others cannot. For the more immediate future, I'm keeping my options open."
"You're not the only athlete that's going to have to deal with these adjustments." Indira had obviously gotten her teeth into something, now. "There's obviously added pressure on you, being the first to do it publicly. Do you feel that, or does it roll off you?"
"I'm looking for my second career at seventeen," Jean-Paul said pointedly. "Of course I feel it. But if it means I break a trail that makes it easier for the next mutant athlete? I can live with that. I was out as queer before I was out as a mutant, and a lot of people who came before me sacrificed so that I could do so with relative safety. So." He shrugged. "The wheel comes around, non?"
She looked almost satisfied with that answer. Then turned her attention to Warren. "And you, as heir to the Worthington empire. How soon will your family want you to step up and take your place there?"
Warren's wings ruffled--a sure sign of discomfort to those who knew him well, aka JP--but the rest of him was composed, pleasant, relaxed. "Right now, my focus is on activism and school. That's more than enough for anyone." He worked his most charming smile, trying to get her to lay off.
"That doesn't really answer the question, though," she pointed out, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. "Have you discussed this at all with your family--or anyone at Worthington Industries?"
"It's always been a given that my first responsibility was to get an education." Warren modified his stock answer slightly, since this interviewer was such a bull-headed pain in the ass. "Sprouting wings was enough of a distraction from that goal--all this" --he gestured at the remnants of the photoshoot and the current interview-- "amps it up pretty hard.
"Jean-Paul said it: we're seventeen. I have college to think about. Maybe grad school. My parents wouldn't have it any other way." Still calm, still smiling, all charm and grace. Meanwhile, his ass was clenched so tight it might never come undone.
"On my side of things," Jean-Paul put in smoothly, "my father has been very supportive, both of my coming out and my relationship with Warren. But I suppose he's been through this once before already."
It was definitely a sacrifice ploy; Jean-Paul hated talking about family with the press. But it was good red meat laid out for the vultures. Irresistible.
Oh god, Jean-Paul was the best boyfriend. He was so getting a blow job the second they were anywhere remotely private. Warren tried to unclench a little. His facade never slipped.
Indira took the bait immediately. "Does this time feel different--for you or for your family? You've got your sister this time around too."
"It is familiar in some respects, but it is largely different. My first coming out was more a matter of localized interest. If you were not into winter sports? Maybe not such a big deal. But, as you pointed out just a minute ago, this has repercussions that are farther reaching and the reactions have been considerably more intense."
"And your father, does he play a large part in anchoring you when those reactions occur? Does Warren?"
"Raymonde is absolutely a grounding influence. He's been fantastic throughout all of this." Jean-Paul leaned in and took Warren's hand. "And Warren... well, being grounded is a good thing. But there is a lot to be said for someone who can make your heart soar, non?" He gave Warren a smoldering look and brushed a kiss across his knuckles.
When he let his hand go, Warren brushed at Jean-Paul's bangs in a genuine gesture, gratefulness in his eyes and a crooked smile on his lips.
If Indira had been skeptical at first, she let it go as a shadow of a smile appeared. "So you two are a distraction from the madness as much as support within it."
"He's very distracting," Warren agreed with a chuckle. "And supportive. So yeah."
Jean-Paul smirked. "What is the saying? 'Get you a man who can do both'? You lucked out, Worthington."
"Yes. Yes I did." Warren smirked right back. "More than anyone but we can know." Tip of the hat to you, Simon.
"So the stress of being so young, public, and gossiped about hasn't strained your relationship? Really?" This wasn't so much disbelief as a plea for something interesting.
Jean-Paul shrugged. "Has it all been easy? No, of course not. But Warren is one of very few people in the world who knows exactly what it is I'm going through. It's a hell of a common ground to have, but it's been an immense comfort."
"Yeah, if anything, I'd say it just cemented what we'd already begun," Warren said, feigning thoughtfulness, as if this wasn't something he'd already considered and approved for public consumption but a new idea coming to light.
"Cemented," she repeated. "As in shoes?"
"We can both fly," Warren said with a chuckle. "Hard to weigh us down."
They'd done about a million interviews and photoshoots, yet Warren and Jean-Paul were managing--somehow--not to look too bored by this one. It was a big deal, a major national glossy mag known for being on the better end of "real" journalism... while still providing an aesthetic experience with cutting edge photography.
Warren had an impish urge to grab Jean-Paul by the belt and pull him in close in front of the cameras... but that kind of stuff was better left til they were both 18, next year. Totally.
Instead, they finished mugging for the cameras and sat across a coffee table from their interviewer, a young woman with tortoiseshell glasses and a look that said she was out to make her name. Perrier, a carafe of tap water, and an assortment of snacks were artfully strewn on the glass table surface. Warren swiped a mineral water and cracked it open before even settling himself on the ottoman provided. He draped his wings just as artfully behind him, well aware that, as usual, eyes were on him to see how he did things. So he did them as gracefully as possible. As usual. Then turned to JP with a look that said he was only narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes.
Jean-Paul, for his part, was engaging in a different manipulation. He'd picked a mini-bag of Skittles out of the candy bowl on the table; he had no intention of eating them, but all that mattered was that they were seen in his hands in a couple of the interview photos. Supposedly little touches like that were supposed to be candid and humanizing, a little bit of "oh, I like the things he likes, so he must be OK". His former agent had observed it tended to work quite well for him, until he opened his mouth.
He tossed Warren a lazy, fond look in return. Once more into the breech.
Warren's mouth tipped into an answering, understanding smile just as the interviewer started in on them:
"So, I'm Indira Bennett, and I've been with the magazine for five years now. It's exciting to meet you two--I begged for this assignment. There's so much surrounding you guys right now, like this swirl of social issues, cutting edge science. I'm keen to get into it. Are you ready?"
Warren shot Jean-Paul a brief, amused glance, then nodded and took a sip of his water.
Jean-Paul leaned in, arms folded loosely over his chest. "Fire away."
She hit a little button on her digital recorder and crossed her legs, then leaned forward. "Great. Let's start out with the latest developments: the recent terrorist attack and the protest that followed soon after."
"Sorry, just need to cut in here for a second, but the protest was being planned before the attack," Warren said, voice level, polite, slight smile in place that never touched his eyes. Practice had made perfect.
"So you two are acquainted with the organizers?"
Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow. "My sister was at that rally. Did you think we were completely ignorant?"
Indira smiled slyly, effectively admitting this was going to be a cat and mouse game. Or so she thought. "She was also part of the group that broke up the so-called human rights rally months before, wasn't she?"
Warren hurried to jump in first, but artfully tried to look like he wasn't, "If I remember correctly, all she did was evacuate people in potential danger. And I really hope you're not trying to compare kids reacting to hate speech with an actual terrorist action by the Brotherhood."
"It does raise the question of just why the mam'selle lobbied so hard to get this assignment," Jean-Paul agreed, addressing himself to Warren and deliberately using the diminutive, despite Bennett being older than either of them. "It would be a shame to cut this short."
Warren's smile touched his eyes, then--and if possibly, there would've been hearts in them. He even let out a little laugh, mostly air, but genuinely happy. Jean-Paul was so hot when he was dickmoving someone, but especially when they deserved it as much as this reporter. "It really would," he agreed, then turned his attention to Ms. Bennett again. "Better change your tack. His reputation is deserved--and I gotta say, I love it."
Indira looked flustered, cheeks darkening pink, but only for a moment. She shook it off and composed her expression again. "Then let's leave family to one side for now."
"Smart," Warren said with a smirk and another heart-eyed look at JP.
Indira ignored him, but politely. Suitably chastised. "And let's talk about some other aspects of the protest. At least one of the organizers made some headlines talking about how not all mutants are rich white boys. It looked like a swipe at you guys."
Warren rolled his eyes. "Now you're twisting her words."
"Not to mention deliberately swerving onto the median to miss a valid point," Jean-Paul added. "It's never done any minority any good to have one voice drown out all others. Warren and I have an excellent platform to spread awareness of certain issues. It doesn't mean we're the only ones with a point of view that needs to be heard. It's not ego to say that, had Warren and I been at that rally, the vast majority of the camera time reserved for mutants would have gone to us. And that's hardly fair, considering the resources we already have at our disposal."
"So you weren't invited?" Indira's eyes flashed indignation at being out-maneuvered by Jean-Paul so quickly, but she held it together admirably.
"We talked about it with the organizers and decided it was better to boost the signal in other ways," Warren said, ever-so-patiently. Shen had been anti, Kurt had been willing. It was the only answer that was fair to both of them and still vague enough to be infuriating to Ms. Bennett, here. "It was about giving a voice to people who haven't had one yet, like Jean-Paul said. Nice try, though."
Indira almost smiled. Almost. "In your view, what voices most need to be heard today, when it comes to mutant issues?"
"You really are determined to go to the hilt with this whole 'divide and conquer' line of questioning, non?" Jean-Paul gave her a cool, dagger-edged smile. "When it comes to mutant issues, mutant voices are the ones that most need to be heard right now, not lawmakers or pundits. And that is difficult because most are in a vulnerable position: powerful enough to genuinely frighten people, but too young to have much say in our own futures. I'd wager the majority of mutants out there right now are below the age to vote. We are uniquely disenfranchised, and so we need to do a tremendous amount of heavy lifting just to be taken seriously."
Before the interviewer could get her mouth all the way open, Warren jumped in with, "So pile that on top of all the other reasons teenagers and other young people might be dismissed: 'Oh, he's not bisexual, he just wants attention', 'Oh, she's black, or he's Asian so--', 'Oh, he doesn't look like a "normal" human, so--', 'Oh, he's from this or that kind of family, so--'
"Basically the more society would try to dismiss someone, the more important their voices are right now, as mutants. The goal is to represent a cross-section of mutant voices, not just the ones people would normally hear if we weren't mutants."
"Let's talk for a moment about looking like a 'normal' human. You both have what's being referred to as 'physical' mutations, to some extent," Indira said, glancing down at her notes then back up quickly. "Do you see it as a hindrance or a help--both personally and in the larger, more general sense?"
Warren narrowly avoided facepalming.
Jean-Paul's smile ticked a notch wider, even as his eyes narrowed. "Now, Indira. If I asked you if your being an attractive woman has been more of a hindrance or a help in your life and career, that would be a rather loaded, one might even say patronizing, question, don't you think?"
Okay, now Warren was trying not to laugh. "But if we're being honest..."
Indira glared briefly at Jean-Paul, which was very much her way of giving him the victory point. "Fair enough, but yes, if we're being honest, it's a help."
"Physical mutations are too varied for us to answer that for anyone but ourselves--and peoples' reactions to them are just as varied. It's an impossible question to answer accurately," Warren pointed out. "Though having to get everything tailored is annoying, I will say that."
Indira still looked disappointed, but plowed ahead. "Physical mutations aside--career-wise, especially for you, Jean-Paul, being a mutant has meant serious adjustment. What's next for you in that arena?"
"More adjustment," Jean-Paul deadpanned, but then relented. It was a fair question. "I'm looking at the possibility of exhibition matches on the extreme circuit so far as my future in sports is concerned. Obviously, I have some elements I can put into my performance that most others cannot. For the more immediate future, I'm keeping my options open."
"You're not the only athlete that's going to have to deal with these adjustments." Indira had obviously gotten her teeth into something, now. "There's obviously added pressure on you, being the first to do it publicly. Do you feel that, or does it roll off you?"
"I'm looking for my second career at seventeen," Jean-Paul said pointedly. "Of course I feel it. But if it means I break a trail that makes it easier for the next mutant athlete? I can live with that. I was out as queer before I was out as a mutant, and a lot of people who came before me sacrificed so that I could do so with relative safety. So." He shrugged. "The wheel comes around, non?"
She looked almost satisfied with that answer. Then turned her attention to Warren. "And you, as heir to the Worthington empire. How soon will your family want you to step up and take your place there?"
Warren's wings ruffled--a sure sign of discomfort to those who knew him well, aka JP--but the rest of him was composed, pleasant, relaxed. "Right now, my focus is on activism and school. That's more than enough for anyone." He worked his most charming smile, trying to get her to lay off.
"That doesn't really answer the question, though," she pointed out, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. "Have you discussed this at all with your family--or anyone at Worthington Industries?"
"It's always been a given that my first responsibility was to get an education." Warren modified his stock answer slightly, since this interviewer was such a bull-headed pain in the ass. "Sprouting wings was enough of a distraction from that goal--all this" --he gestured at the remnants of the photoshoot and the current interview-- "amps it up pretty hard.
"Jean-Paul said it: we're seventeen. I have college to think about. Maybe grad school. My parents wouldn't have it any other way." Still calm, still smiling, all charm and grace. Meanwhile, his ass was clenched so tight it might never come undone.
"On my side of things," Jean-Paul put in smoothly, "my father has been very supportive, both of my coming out and my relationship with Warren. But I suppose he's been through this once before already."
It was definitely a sacrifice ploy; Jean-Paul hated talking about family with the press. But it was good red meat laid out for the vultures. Irresistible.
Oh god, Jean-Paul was the best boyfriend. He was so getting a blow job the second they were anywhere remotely private. Warren tried to unclench a little. His facade never slipped.
Indira took the bait immediately. "Does this time feel different--for you or for your family? You've got your sister this time around too."
"It is familiar in some respects, but it is largely different. My first coming out was more a matter of localized interest. If you were not into winter sports? Maybe not such a big deal. But, as you pointed out just a minute ago, this has repercussions that are farther reaching and the reactions have been considerably more intense."
"And your father, does he play a large part in anchoring you when those reactions occur? Does Warren?"
"Raymonde is absolutely a grounding influence. He's been fantastic throughout all of this." Jean-Paul leaned in and took Warren's hand. "And Warren... well, being grounded is a good thing. But there is a lot to be said for someone who can make your heart soar, non?" He gave Warren a smoldering look and brushed a kiss across his knuckles.
When he let his hand go, Warren brushed at Jean-Paul's bangs in a genuine gesture, gratefulness in his eyes and a crooked smile on his lips.
If Indira had been skeptical at first, she let it go as a shadow of a smile appeared. "So you two are a distraction from the madness as much as support within it."
"He's very distracting," Warren agreed with a chuckle. "And supportive. So yeah."
Jean-Paul smirked. "What is the saying? 'Get you a man who can do both'? You lucked out, Worthington."
"Yes. Yes I did." Warren smirked right back. "More than anyone but we can know." Tip of the hat to you, Simon.
"So the stress of being so young, public, and gossiped about hasn't strained your relationship? Really?" This wasn't so much disbelief as a plea for something interesting.
Jean-Paul shrugged. "Has it all been easy? No, of course not. But Warren is one of very few people in the world who knows exactly what it is I'm going through. It's a hell of a common ground to have, but it's been an immense comfort."
"Yeah, if anything, I'd say it just cemented what we'd already begun," Warren said, feigning thoughtfulness, as if this wasn't something he'd already considered and approved for public consumption but a new idea coming to light.
"Cemented," she repeated. "As in shoes?"
"We can both fly," Warren said with a chuckle. "Hard to weigh us down."
