ax_main | Jean-Paul and Simon backdated 12/19

Jean-Paul comes to visit Simon on campus, but it's not exactly good news.

Some sexy times included.

As anti-mutant sentiment had intensified, Jean-Paul had taken to escorting Simon to his classes on the days he was physically on campus. Simon allowed it, in part because it put Jean-Paul at ease and because Jean-Paul's offers of work had more or less dried up as things had gotten worse. It was something he could do, at least.

But there was something off today. Jean-Paul had an offer, and Simon had pushed him to go to the interview. And yet, as he left the hall and emerged into the connecting breezeway, there was Jean-Paul, waiting as usual.

"Hey." He offered Simon a lopsided smile. "Miss me?"

Simon eyed him in uncertainty, shifting his bag further up his shoulder as he approached. "Always..."

Jean-Paul pushed himself out of his nonchalant lean on the wall and met him halfway.

"They texted me a few minutes before I was going to leave," he said, anticipating Simon's question. "Company decided they don't want the controversy."

Simon's face darkened. "And they couldn't have decided this sooner..."

Jean-Paul slid an arm around Simon's waist and let him lead the way. "I expect there was some tug-of-war going on behind closed doors. But at least I didn't miss our date."

Not quite sure what to say to that, Simon shifted his bag on his shoulder, leading the way across the quad. "Would you like to make it a real one? We could get lunch somewhere." Anything to distract Jean-Paul from the moronic bureaucrats ruining his life.

"If you have time, sure." Jean-Paul's demeanor was calm, even pleasant, but arm around Simon's waist was tense. "Things been quiet on campus?"

"Not as such," Which was one of the reasons Simon was leading Jean-Paul away from the southeast corner of the quad. "But I can handle it."

Jean-Paul frowned, but didn't offer to go knock down whoever was giving Simon a hard time. "What do you want for lunch?"

“Is Greek alright?” Simon asked. It was always the least crowded around this time of day.

"So long as you don't mind kissing a man with feta-garlic breath." But Jean-Paul let Simon steer him toward the restaurant. Despite his low mood, his interest did perk at bit at the sight of the menu posted outside the little restaurant slotted among the supply shops. It looked like a more adventurous offering than just gyros and hummus.

"You'll enjoy this," Simon promised him with a knowing smile. "It's a little known treasure, so at least we aren't likely to be bothered, either."

"Looking out for your most troublesome patient, doctor?" Jean-Paul planted a kiss on Simon's temple, then held the door open for him. "It's appreciated."

"Looking out for us both, I promise you," Simon murmured, brushing a hand at the small of Jean-Paul's back before stepping inside and finding a table at the back.

They settled in; true to prediction, there were only a couple other students in the place, in addition to a bored-looking waiter. Jean-Paul took a look around; he couldn't say much for the decor - the brick walls were a stark white, save for some light smoke stains over by the kitchen.

"This place looks like it's been here forever," he mused.

"One of the few places nearby that haven't succumbed to gentrification," Simon hummed as he flipped the menu over, skimming the selections.

The sight of a menu full of marithes, kibbie, and lamb seemed the perfect distraction; Jean-Paul was absorbed in his choices until the waiter ambled over to ask if they wanted drinks or had any questions about the menu. Jean-Paul glanced over at Simon. "Get what you want. My treat, all right?"

Simon raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded, ordering an array of small dishes, including spanakopita, dolmades, and pastichio.

Jean-Paul twitched a crooked grin as the waiter left. "What's that look for? I can't treat my boyfriend now and again?"

“I just thought... given what’s going on, you would want to save your money,” Simon pointed out.

Jean-Paul grimaced.

"One lunch out isn't going to break me. But I don't think I'm going to be able to rebound this time. Things aren't getting better out there."

"I've noticed," Simon murmured, taking a sip of his water. What he didn't say was that he wasn't sure he would be able to finish his degree if things continued the way they were. A year ago, that would have devastated him. Now, he just felt numb. "But we'll figure out something."

Jean-Paul reached for Simon's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Maybe I should seriously consider going to work for Raymonde."

Simon stiffened. "What?"

"If nothing else works out," Jean-Paul soothed him. "It's just a thought."

"You would leave?" Simon frowned at him, not at all soothed. He slowly pulled his hand away.

"You make it sound like I would take off in the night," Jean-Paul said, not quite pouting. "I was thinking it would be more a discussion about me sponsoring you for emigration."

"You want me to leave," Simon's frown deepened.

"I want us to have a conversation in which we discuss options for our future," Jean-Paul said. "Even if you and Warren would be happy to make me a kept man, that's not what I want."

Simon had his doubts that Warren was coming back, but he didn't voice them. Instead, he met his boyfriend's gaze. "I would never do that to you. But my life is here. Even if I'm kicked out of school, I thought I would have a place in Hank's practice."

"OK." Jean-Paul leaned back in his chair. "I have an advantage you don't in this anyway - I can commute to Montreal and back in a heartbeat if need be. Breakfast with you, lunch with Raymonde, and dinner with you again."

"Less of an advantage than you think," Simon frowned. "Do you realize how dangerous that would be? Especially right now, and crossing an international boundary no less."

"I'm a Canadian citizen and my passport is current," Jean-Paul said. "I'm not in any more danger than you are. Which, admittedly, is not so much of a comfort right now."

"Agreed, not much of a comfort. Besides, every time you cross that border and have your passport scrutinized by the government, so are you," Simon sighed, taking a sip of his water.

"So what's your suggestion? I stay in our room for the rest of my life? I need to be able to do something, Simon."

Simon sighed softly. "I know. I just wish you didn't have to fly to Canada to do it." He paused, looking up. "I'm sorry. I'm being selfish. If this is what you want to do, then you should. Raymonde would be lucky to have you."

Jean-Paul leaned forward and let his chair fall back into place.

"It's not my first choice. Or my tenth. I'm just saying... it may come down to being my only option now that I'm effectively blackballed. I guess I'm lucky, at least. It's not a bad way to go if it comes down to it." He lay his hand over Simon's again, lightly enough that he could pull away easily if need be. "No matter what happens, I'm coming back to you. Every time. Got it?"

Simon turned his hand and laced his fingers with Jean-Paul's with a slight smile. "Alright."

"Okay." Jean-Paul's smile was tense, but his relief was clear, even through the tension writ plainly on every heartbeat, an open book that Simon's power translated perfectly. He squeezed Simon's hand gently, but made no move to let go. "At least you'll be seeing more of me."

Simon closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as he soaked in Jean-Paul’s heartbeat and the stress leaking through. His hand tightened the squeeze, then he looked up. “It’s not just you that’s got me in this mood. If things keep going the way they are, I’m going to lose my chance at a medical degree, and I can’t deny that it’s been affecting me.”

Jean-Paul's smile twisted into a snarl. "Those fucking... that's a discrimination lawsuit, loud and clear. They can't dismiss you on academic grounds."

Simon raised a brow. “Like they couldn’t drop you on athletic grounds? Let’s be honest. We knew what we were doing when we went public with our mutations.”

"That's different, though. You can demonstrate that you're an excellent doctor without your powers. Let them ask you anything they like." Jean-Paul frowned and squeezed Simon's hand. "I'll help you fight if it comes to that, all right?"

Simon smiled. "Jean-Paul, I've always known that. You fight for me even when I don't need it."

That got a laugh, that bright, genuine burst of happiness that had so surprised Simon the first time he heard it.

"All right, so I am predictable. But it's good to remind you I'm on your side if the world burns down, non?"

Simon's eyes lit up at the sound of that laugh - a sound that bloomed warmth in his chest and belly. "I suppose. But in the meantime, let's not go to war just yet. I haven't been given the boot as of yet, and if I can work my way around it through negotiation, I'd rather try that first."

"Fine, fine. No breaking heads until they give us a reason." Jean-Paul sighed. "You know me too well. You're going to find me boring soon."

"That will absolutely never happen," Simon smirked back at him.

"Still going to be fascinated with me when I've got grey hair and crows feet, hmm?" Jean-Paul propped his chin on his fist and regarded Simon with warm eyes. "I always knew you had excellent taste."

Simon gazed into those twinkling blue eyes and suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. At least, not for food. “Do you want to get this to go?”

"Don't you have class later?" But there was nothing of refusal in that smile. "Or were you thinking we should have a rooftop picnic somewhere?"

"Forget class," Simon murmured, motioning to the waiter. "Let's go to the apartment. I'll even let you fly."

--------

Jean-Paul didn't even wait until they got inside; as soon as they touched down on the balcony, he had Simon pinned against the sliding glass in a hungry kiss. It took a very definite (though not displeased, per se) shove of a take-out bag against his chest before he remembered something like decorum.

"This wasn't my idea," he protested, smiling wide.

"I'm not complaining," Simon told him breathlessly, one hand still fisted in his boyfriend's shirt. He was warm all over, but there were priorities. "Let me put my bag down and put the food in the fridge."

Jean-Paul let him do precisely those two things before tackling him again, this time up against the counter dividing the kitchen from the common area.

"This was a good idea," he murmured, breath and lips hot against the thin skin of Simon's neck a moment before teeth scored it.

"I have those sometimes," Simon breathed, hands dipping under Jean-Paul's shirt as he listened to his heartbeat skim faster. He didn't even mind that the counter was digging into his back - all he could think about was that scrape of teeth and the hot breath on his throat.
"I want to go to bed with you," Jean-Paul murmured. His slid his down Simon's body, rough and eager. "I want to pin you down and taste you and love you until come with my name on your tongue. How's that for good ideas?"

"You're bragging," Simon accused breathlessly, pushing back at him to force Jean-Paul toward the hall leading to the bedroom.

"I'm making promises." But Jean-Paul backed off just enough to take Simon's hand and lead him to bed. He needed this. Not the sex so much as the reassurance, the base knowledge that Simon, at least was permanent part of his world.

Simon was already kicking his shoes off by the time they reached the door, one hand smoothing over Jean-Paul's tight ass. But, he could feel through the clasp of their hands that Jean-Paul was relaxing, rather than becoming more energized. "You know I'm not doing this just to make you feel better, don't you?"

Jean-Paul smirked and towed him into the bedroom. "Simon, I would have very few complaints even if you were. Now get your clothes off before I make you yell at me again."

"I am not going to rip my clothes off for you, and you know it," Simon told him, though his hands moved to the front of his waistcoat to begin releasing the buttons.

"I live in hope, ma brave." A moment of carefully applied speed, and Jean-Paul had Simon on his back on the bed. "Or you could let me do the honors."

No matter how often Jean-Paul did that, Simon always felt his breath leave him when he was suddenly moved at-speed from one place to the next. And, admittedly, when it was being done in the bedroom, it always turned him on just a bit. Especially when his boyfriend was on top of him. "Well," he breathed, a little dazed, "if you insist..."

"I do..." Jean-Paul leaned in, nuzzled against Simon's throat, kissed his pulse. Despite his promise, his only toyed with Simon's buttons. "I might even see fit to beg, if you were feeling merciless."

Simon breathed out at the full body flush that swept through him, tilting his head back for Jean-Paul's sweet kisses. He dragged his hands down his boyfriend's body, squeezing his ass. "If you keep teasing me, you might drive me to it."

Fuck, he loved this guy. Loved him so much it was scary if he thought on it too long, especially after today, so he didn't. He made good on his word instead, whipping Simon's clothes off so quick that the friction of it left his boyfriend's skin glowing pink, then let his own clothes join the pile before laying himself over Simon.

"Mmm. You know I love you... the tease is just to remind you that you love me."

"Oh god," Simon breathed, hands finding purchase on Jean-Paul's body again, indulging in the daze of the moment before blinking and looking over at the floor. "Please tell me you didn't rip my shirt again..."

"Worry about clothes later." Jean-Paul kissed him again, working his way down the curve of Simon's neck. "Worry about your super-hot boyfriend now..."

Simon groaned softly, his head thumping softly back onto the bed, carefully not dislodging Jean-Paul's kissing. "You ripped my shirt."

"You have a lot of doubts about my control for someone who's about to let me get my mouth on his cock." The words held more than a hint of a laugh. "Unless you've changed your mind, of course."

"You don't sound offended," Simon breathed, fingers threading through his boyfriend's hair.

"Because I know you haven't..." Jean-Paul dipped his head, scraped his teeth over Simon's nipple. "And I know you want me." He slipped loose of Simon's hold like water, making his worshipful way down his smooth body.

Simon stretched at his touch, gasping softly. “That’s rather obvious,” he pointed out. It was all he could think about, really, his body making that fact well known. “I always want you...”

Jean-Paul cursed softly against his skin, fresh heat jolting through his veins at the admission. "Drive me fucking crazy..." he breathed, just before taking Simon's dark, jutting cock into his mouth.

Simon had arched slightly, just before he took him down, having felt that surge of arousal through Jean-Paul's body, and his breath hitched as he as he did. "I don't... understand how you can't-know-that-already."

God, Jean-Paul loved him... even if he was enough of a bastard to keep talking while Jean-Paul's mouth was occupied. He let just a hint of his power through, vibrating his tongue against the underside of Simon's cockhead, to torment as much as pleasure.

That managed to shut him up, in a fashion, as Simon's fingers found their way into Jean-Paul's hair, lightly tangling, teasing his scalp as he tried to keep his breathing under control. It was a losing battle, especially the way Jean-Paul applied his power - two-fold torment as Simon witnessed the beauty of Jean-Paul's mutation even as he felt the effects. Soon enough, he couldn't even manage to bite back his cries.

Jean-Paul finally pulled off as the grip in his hair grew more desperate, a breathless, knowing smile on his dark lips.

"Like this, love, or do you want all of me?"

"You're completely and utterly nefarious," Simon gasped softly, dropping his head back on the bed as he tried not to beg for more. No, he wanted all of Jean-Paul, not just his mouth, but god, in the moment, it was hard to remind himself of that. "Just... a moment."

"Oh, of course." The words were all but purred, as if Jean-Paul's own erection wasn't jutting up between his legs, heavy and eager in the half-light of the bedroom. Jean-Paul crawled forward on his hands and knees, just enough to position himself over Simon's hips, and lowered himself in a graceful kowtow, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to Simon's belly, down over the V of his groin and over the smooth inside of his left thigh.

"You take your time," he breathed. "I'll just... enjoy your company."

"Oh my god, you bastard," Simon gasped, arching back, his thighs spreading in response. "Come...back up here."

Jean-Paul kissed his way back up to Simon's mouth, his calm revealed for the ruse it was as soon as skin touched skin again. His desire had him keyed up, burning with need barely held in check.

Simon reached for the nightstand, fumbling to get his hands on the lubricant even as he lost himself in a moment in Jean-Paul's passion and hunger.

Jean-Paul knew him by touch, hardly stopped kissing him, even as he slicked himself and began prepping Simon with fingers just a little too eager to be teasing. He kissed him deeper, faster, breathing Simon's name in the instants that they were apart.

Restless, Simon hooked a leg around Jean-Paul's hips, one hand diving into his hair as his moans were swallowed by Jean-Paul's kisses - his passion. When his boyfriend got going, he was like a wildfire, sweeping over everything in its path, wrapping him up in a blaze of motion and burning hunger. It was undeniable, and Simon knew in his heart that they both needed it. No teasing, no stopping. "God, don't stop," he pleaded on a brief gasp.

Jean-Paul withdrew, but only long enough to grip Simon's hips and guide himself into the tight, slick clench of his heat. He closed his eyes against the urge to just bury himself in Simon, kept his control, and rolled his hips into him slowly.

Simon arched up, pulling Jean-Paul closer, breathing through the first few moments until everything was perfect, and all he needed was motion, feeling the two of them coming together in more than just physicality. "Yes," he breathed out, tugging gently at the back of Jean-Paul's neck.

That breathless urging was more than enough to bring Jean-Paul to him, kissing and kissing him as they moved together.

"Love you," he breathed. "So much..."

"Don't leave," Simon huffed softly, curling his fingers in Jean-Paul's hair. "Don't leave me."

"Shhhh." Jean-Paul cupped his cheek, whispered against his lips. "Never. I promise you."

"No one keeps their promises," Simon told him, leaning up to nip at his lips.

"I do." Jean-Paul kissed him hard, stilling his words of doubt. They didn't need the uncertainty of language. He just let Simon feel the pleasure flowing between them.

Warmth flooded through Simon's chest at the passion behind those words, the absolute knowledge of Jean-Paul's conviction shared between them through Simon's power. He gripped him close, returning the kiss with more heat than he was usually accustomed to sharing, his mind wiping free of all thoughts but love.

They moved together, in synch to an extent that was a rarity for them, even with Simon's powers. A build of desire between them, growing more urgent with each stroke, with every hot rake of Simon's short nails down the pale skin of Jean-Paul's back.

The intensity finally crested and sent Jean-Paul gasping his climax against Simon's neck in blissful sobs of breath.

Simon melted back into the bed, arms sliding around Jean-Paul's back as he attempted to catch his breath, his mind still reeling. It took several minutes before he could even begin to think clearly, but he finally managed to breathe, "I believe you."