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ax_main2018-09-02 07:32 pm
ax_touchstone) wrote in ax_main2018-09-02 07:32 pm
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Simon and Jean-Paul | Backdated to 9/2
After Warren, telling Jean-Paul is somehow easier, even if his boyfriend is livid.
Simon had already finished two glasses of wine by the time he sent Warren out for food and texted Jean-Paul to meet him at the apartment. Between the wine and the Alprazolam, he was much more mellow than he probably ought to be, especially considering how worried he was about Jean-Paul's reaction to the news, but Warren had taken it in stride, and had at least comforted his fears about being immediately rejected.
He settled back on the couch, nursing slowly at a third glass as he waited, his waistcoat opened and collar open, staring at the skyline of New York beyond the large windows, and the sunset beyond.
He didn't have to wait long. Normally, that was to be expected with Jean-Paul, but with everything that had been going on, it wasn't a certainty. But no, within a few minutes, the door opened and Jean-Paul's keys clattered onto the side table.
"Simon? Where are you?"
"Couch," Simon called from the living area, setting his wine down on the side table and attempting to push up out of the pillows and cushions with some amount of dignity.
Jean-Paul was there in a second. He looked exhausted, but that was getting to be normal for him lately. He tried for a smile as Simon's undone appearance and the wine - glass and bottle - on the table. "Am I here to be seduced? I can go get another glass."
Simon's expression fell. Oh god. It would look that way, wouldn't it? "You...you might want that glass. But no seduction."
"Merde." Jean-Paul sat heavily and stole Simon's glass. "I know that look. What's the latest crisis? Or did more of Warren's family die and we should feel bad for being happy our problems have solved themselves?"
The dark humor prompted a short, mirthless laugh from Simon's lips, even though he didn't feel much from it. Instead, he leaned against Jean-Paul's side, feeling the alcohol and medication. "No new crisis. I have a confession to make, about something I've been keeping to myself. I...I need you to know that wasn't trying to hurt you or War. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that I was keeping you safe. Maybe...maybe I just thought I was keeping myself safe from judgement. I don't want this to add anything to your current troubles."
Jean-Paul switched the glass to his off-hand and ran his fingers through Simon's hair, the touch somewhere between gentle and hesitant. "What happened?" he murmured.
He'd thought it would be easier with Jean-Paul if he got Warren out of the way, but Simon found it was just as difficult. Maybe more. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. "You remember when I went to go tour schools."
Jean-Paul nodded. "Yeah. You came back looking like death. But you said you'd been sick...?"
"I never made it to the schools," Simon admitted tiredly. "I was abducted from my hotel, and kept in another location for the duration."
Jean-Paul tensed beside him, but didn't pull away. "Who?" Because he had a feeling the answer to that would get ahead of his other questions.
"The school, and the Right refugees know him as Dr. Nathaniel Essex. I doubt that's his real name. His lab assistants all called him Mr. Sinister when they thought I wasn't listening," Simon told him, finally opening his eyes.
The hand in Simon's hair tightened for less than the span of a heartbeat before Jean-Paul got a hold of himself. When Jean-Paul spoke, his voice was tight, but level at least. "Are you all right? I mean... no, of course you're not. But... are you, were you hurt?"
"He didn't hurt me," Simon admitted quietly. "Besides telepathically knocking me out when I tried to escape. He wanted - wants - me to join him. He wants my mind, my skills, my powers to help him further his research. He wants me to realize that his way is best, and...and that my abilities are taken for granted elsewhere. He spent the majority of the time showing me what he's accomplished, and attempting to teach me his philosophy."
"Fuck what he wants," Jean-Paul hissed. After the Right, Tommy, and everything else, he was not letting anyone lay a hand on Simon. "If he comes near you again, I'll tear his head off."
Simon shook his head, looking up. "He's a telepath. Maybe more powerful than Xavier. And he...he's not human. Or mutant. He's...he's over two hundred years old. He's nothing like we've ever encountered."
"We'll figure out something," Jean-Paul promised. "All of us if need be. He doesn't get to just decide he'll have you."
Sitting up, Simon looked at him, a little glassy-eyed from the alcohol. "You're taking this well."
"I want to kill someone." There was no humor in the statement. "This is 'taking it well'?"
"No," Simon agreed softly. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger over this. For the moment, he's leaving me be. Ah. Mostly."
"I doubt you'd tell me where I could find him, even if you knew. So I'm safe and helpless as ever." Jean-Paul was quiet for a while, but gave the sense of gathering strength. "What do you mean by 'mostly'?"
Simon sighed. "When the students were taken by the Right, before I met up with you, I called him. I made a deal with him to tell me all of the Right's facilities. It didn't matter, of course, because Xavier and the others are resourceful and had already discovered the information on their own, but I owe him a favor at a later date."
Jean-Paul looked over at that weary sigh. He put the wine glass aside and tugged Simon onto his lap. "You're not going to keep that promise, all right? This shit's all been done under duress."
Simon normally didn’t do such things, but between his emotional exhaustion and the self-medication, he didn’t hesitate to turn into Jean-Paul, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into his boyfriend’s neck.
Jean-Paul slid his hand into Simon's hair again and wrapped his free arm around him. He wasn't as calm as he seemed; his vitals gave him away immediately. But that wasn't something that could be helped. Letting Simon know he wasn't to blame for any of what had happened to him, though? That he could do.
"I'm sorry you carried that alone."
"I'm sorry I kept it from you," Simon told him softly.
"What do you need right now, Simon?"
Finally looking up, Simon sighed. "I need you to keep this to yourself. Warren, Scott, and the staff at the school know, I think, but Xavier wants to keep it quiet from the rest of the student body for now. Warren just went out to get us some food and should be back soon."
Jean-Paul sighed, but nodded. "More secrets. But yeah. I can do that for you, Simon." Jean-Paul went quiet for a bit, his expression tightening as he wrestled with something, but in the end, he just asked, "Is Warren picking up food for all three of us, or just you two?"
Simon blinked at him, surprised. "The three of us, of course."
"OK. I didn't know if he knew I was coming." A soft laugh. "Just as well. I don't think I have the energy to fly back to the school."
"Unsurprising," Simon agreed softly, especially from what he could feel in Jean-Paul's vitals. "Stay tonight?"
"Oui." Jean-Paul caressed the back of his neck. "I think that would be a good thing. I'd like to be needed... wanted tonight."
Staring at him, Simon reached a hand up, caressing the line of his jaw. "You always are. You know that, right? Do you...do you know how much I need you?"
"It's not you." Jean-Paul leaned into the touch. "Jeanne-Marie. I know she needs me right now, but you know how I'm put together. There's only so many times I can get the brush off before I start wanting to scream, or maybe just fly off to the middle of nowhere."
"Would you like me to try talking to her?" Simon offered quietly.
"I don't think it would do much good," Jean-Paul sighed. "Unless you want an earful about her killer God."
"It's not a particular desire of mine," Simon conceded, brushing his fingers into Jean-Paul's hair, relishing in the ability to touch, and lean bonelessly into him. "But if I can help in any way, please let me know."
"I think we'll do best just helping each other get closer to normal. I haven't been around for you and Warren as much as I would have liked."
"I think that goes for all three of us," Simon admitted.
"Let's... let's try and fix that a little tonight?" Jean-Paul rested his brow against Simon's. "It doesn't have to be sex or anything like that. I just want to try getting our triumvirate back on the same wavelength. See where we all are right now, and what we need."
"That's part of why I chose the apartment tonight," Simon agreed. "I figured we could use some time alone."
"Genius." Jean-Paul managed something like a smile and nuzzled up against Simon's cheek.
Simon had already finished two glasses of wine by the time he sent Warren out for food and texted Jean-Paul to meet him at the apartment. Between the wine and the Alprazolam, he was much more mellow than he probably ought to be, especially considering how worried he was about Jean-Paul's reaction to the news, but Warren had taken it in stride, and had at least comforted his fears about being immediately rejected.
He settled back on the couch, nursing slowly at a third glass as he waited, his waistcoat opened and collar open, staring at the skyline of New York beyond the large windows, and the sunset beyond.
He didn't have to wait long. Normally, that was to be expected with Jean-Paul, but with everything that had been going on, it wasn't a certainty. But no, within a few minutes, the door opened and Jean-Paul's keys clattered onto the side table.
"Simon? Where are you?"
"Couch," Simon called from the living area, setting his wine down on the side table and attempting to push up out of the pillows and cushions with some amount of dignity.
Jean-Paul was there in a second. He looked exhausted, but that was getting to be normal for him lately. He tried for a smile as Simon's undone appearance and the wine - glass and bottle - on the table. "Am I here to be seduced? I can go get another glass."
Simon's expression fell. Oh god. It would look that way, wouldn't it? "You...you might want that glass. But no seduction."
"Merde." Jean-Paul sat heavily and stole Simon's glass. "I know that look. What's the latest crisis? Or did more of Warren's family die and we should feel bad for being happy our problems have solved themselves?"
The dark humor prompted a short, mirthless laugh from Simon's lips, even though he didn't feel much from it. Instead, he leaned against Jean-Paul's side, feeling the alcohol and medication. "No new crisis. I have a confession to make, about something I've been keeping to myself. I...I need you to know that wasn't trying to hurt you or War. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that I was keeping you safe. Maybe...maybe I just thought I was keeping myself safe from judgement. I don't want this to add anything to your current troubles."
Jean-Paul switched the glass to his off-hand and ran his fingers through Simon's hair, the touch somewhere between gentle and hesitant. "What happened?" he murmured.
He'd thought it would be easier with Jean-Paul if he got Warren out of the way, but Simon found it was just as difficult. Maybe more. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. "You remember when I went to go tour schools."
Jean-Paul nodded. "Yeah. You came back looking like death. But you said you'd been sick...?"
"I never made it to the schools," Simon admitted tiredly. "I was abducted from my hotel, and kept in another location for the duration."
Jean-Paul tensed beside him, but didn't pull away. "Who?" Because he had a feeling the answer to that would get ahead of his other questions.
"The school, and the Right refugees know him as Dr. Nathaniel Essex. I doubt that's his real name. His lab assistants all called him Mr. Sinister when they thought I wasn't listening," Simon told him, finally opening his eyes.
The hand in Simon's hair tightened for less than the span of a heartbeat before Jean-Paul got a hold of himself. When Jean-Paul spoke, his voice was tight, but level at least. "Are you all right? I mean... no, of course you're not. But... are you, were you hurt?"
"He didn't hurt me," Simon admitted quietly. "Besides telepathically knocking me out when I tried to escape. He wanted - wants - me to join him. He wants my mind, my skills, my powers to help him further his research. He wants me to realize that his way is best, and...and that my abilities are taken for granted elsewhere. He spent the majority of the time showing me what he's accomplished, and attempting to teach me his philosophy."
"Fuck what he wants," Jean-Paul hissed. After the Right, Tommy, and everything else, he was not letting anyone lay a hand on Simon. "If he comes near you again, I'll tear his head off."
Simon shook his head, looking up. "He's a telepath. Maybe more powerful than Xavier. And he...he's not human. Or mutant. He's...he's over two hundred years old. He's nothing like we've ever encountered."
"We'll figure out something," Jean-Paul promised. "All of us if need be. He doesn't get to just decide he'll have you."
Sitting up, Simon looked at him, a little glassy-eyed from the alcohol. "You're taking this well."
"I want to kill someone." There was no humor in the statement. "This is 'taking it well'?"
"No," Simon agreed softly. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger over this. For the moment, he's leaving me be. Ah. Mostly."
"I doubt you'd tell me where I could find him, even if you knew. So I'm safe and helpless as ever." Jean-Paul was quiet for a while, but gave the sense of gathering strength. "What do you mean by 'mostly'?"
Simon sighed. "When the students were taken by the Right, before I met up with you, I called him. I made a deal with him to tell me all of the Right's facilities. It didn't matter, of course, because Xavier and the others are resourceful and had already discovered the information on their own, but I owe him a favor at a later date."
Jean-Paul looked over at that weary sigh. He put the wine glass aside and tugged Simon onto his lap. "You're not going to keep that promise, all right? This shit's all been done under duress."
Simon normally didn’t do such things, but between his emotional exhaustion and the self-medication, he didn’t hesitate to turn into Jean-Paul, wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into his boyfriend’s neck.
Jean-Paul slid his hand into Simon's hair again and wrapped his free arm around him. He wasn't as calm as he seemed; his vitals gave him away immediately. But that wasn't something that could be helped. Letting Simon know he wasn't to blame for any of what had happened to him, though? That he could do.
"I'm sorry you carried that alone."
"I'm sorry I kept it from you," Simon told him softly.
"What do you need right now, Simon?"
Finally looking up, Simon sighed. "I need you to keep this to yourself. Warren, Scott, and the staff at the school know, I think, but Xavier wants to keep it quiet from the rest of the student body for now. Warren just went out to get us some food and should be back soon."
Jean-Paul sighed, but nodded. "More secrets. But yeah. I can do that for you, Simon." Jean-Paul went quiet for a bit, his expression tightening as he wrestled with something, but in the end, he just asked, "Is Warren picking up food for all three of us, or just you two?"
Simon blinked at him, surprised. "The three of us, of course."
"OK. I didn't know if he knew I was coming." A soft laugh. "Just as well. I don't think I have the energy to fly back to the school."
"Unsurprising," Simon agreed softly, especially from what he could feel in Jean-Paul's vitals. "Stay tonight?"
"Oui." Jean-Paul caressed the back of his neck. "I think that would be a good thing. I'd like to be needed... wanted tonight."
Staring at him, Simon reached a hand up, caressing the line of his jaw. "You always are. You know that, right? Do you...do you know how much I need you?"
"It's not you." Jean-Paul leaned into the touch. "Jeanne-Marie. I know she needs me right now, but you know how I'm put together. There's only so many times I can get the brush off before I start wanting to scream, or maybe just fly off to the middle of nowhere."
"Would you like me to try talking to her?" Simon offered quietly.
"I don't think it would do much good," Jean-Paul sighed. "Unless you want an earful about her killer God."
"It's not a particular desire of mine," Simon conceded, brushing his fingers into Jean-Paul's hair, relishing in the ability to touch, and lean bonelessly into him. "But if I can help in any way, please let me know."
"I think we'll do best just helping each other get closer to normal. I haven't been around for you and Warren as much as I would have liked."
"I think that goes for all three of us," Simon admitted.
"Let's... let's try and fix that a little tonight?" Jean-Paul rested his brow against Simon's. "It doesn't have to be sex or anything like that. I just want to try getting our triumvirate back on the same wavelength. See where we all are right now, and what we need."
"That's part of why I chose the apartment tonight," Simon agreed. "I figured we could use some time alone."
"Genius." Jean-Paul managed something like a smile and nuzzled up against Simon's cheek.
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<3 all the boys
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