Simon, Jean-Paul, and Warren, backdated to Friday

[ax_angel]

Warren has a plan. Jean-Paul jumps on board. They manage to separate Simon from his laptop and drag him along too.

If Warren was able to catch up to Jean-Paul in the hallway, it was because Jean-Paul allowed him. Even after months of sharing meals, make-outs, movies, after months of being not-boyfriends, that still made Warren's heart speed up. Since no one else was in the boys' hall, he sidled up behind Jean-Paul and put both arms around his waist, then kissed his cheek from behind. "Hi."

Jean-Paul stopped in his tracks and leaned into the casual affection. His hands, always summer warm, lighted over Warren's. He hadn't exactly put distance between himself and Warren and Simon, but he hadn't smiled much either. Or done much of anything but cook, work-out, and make out since the announcement.

"Hi yourself. Where are you coming from?"

"The gym," Warren said, giving a little squeeze. Even if he'd been quiet and yes, broody, at least JP was still there with the physical closeness. It served as a reminder that even if he wasn't talking, he wasn't trying to ignore Warren--or Simon. What he needed, what they all needed, was the right opportunity to relax together. "Where I've been working the bag and hatching a fantastic plan. Bird pun only slightly intended."

Jean-Paul snorted. "If you mean to start feathering a nest in the literal sense, I'm leaving. If your brilliant plan is to make me a kept man, I may be interested."

"Closer to that second thing, but good to know. Let's keep that option on the table." Warren chuckled and resituated them so they were face to face and he could tuck two fingers into JP's front pocket. "But how about this: a weekend away from this madhouse. You, me, Simon, my parents' place in Aspen."

A moment of actual longing flickered in Jean-Paul's eyes, but in the next moment it was tamped down and he was frowning slightly.

"And no one will see and report back to them? The staff or whoever?"

Warren shook his head and leaned over to press his forehead against JP's. He wanted to be convinced, and Warren could do that. "No one would dare. Worthingtons pay really well for loyalty when it comes to staff. *Really* well. Way better than tabloids."

Jean-Paul stepped back and gripped Warren's hair, tousling him playfully.

"Except your parents are the ones signing the checks, birdbrain." There was no bite in the insult, and Jean-Paul seemed just fine keeping his hand in Warren's hair. "That probably means they outrank you."

"They want to keep my wings and my *friends* as quiet as I do. They won't do shit." Warren smiled and nuzzled at him, grinning. "And my interview in the Gay City News doesn't go live until the end of the month, so they still have everything to lose.

"Let's take advantage now just in case my plan backfires." He chuckled a little. Of course he hoped it didn't, but if he lost that money... well. There were other things he was more concerned with losing, these days. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"All right. You've convinced me." Jean-Paul released his hold on Warren's hair, and traded it for hooking his fingers through his belt loops... then started towing him toward the room Jean-Paul and Simon's dorm. "Now let's go have the same conversation with Simon."

"See, this is why I recruited you first." Warren went along with Jean-Paul eagerly. What could he say; he liked being manhandled. "I have a feeling he's gonna be a harder sell, but our powers combined..."

They found him in the room, tucked up onto the couch, his laptop propped on his knees as he typed away, completely oblivious to the door having opened at all. His brow was creased in a deep frown as he tried a couple of test introductions to the paper he was writing, annoyed that composing papers didn't come nearly as easy to him as almost everything else did. He knew what his argument was, but attempting to convey that through writing instead of results was tedious at best. It was almost like being in a room of his mother's political friends grilling him on his techniques.

"Simon!" Jean-Paul pounced, landing at his feet for the sake of the laptop. "We've got excellent news!"

Okay, this was already so worth it just to see Jean-Paul enthusiastic about something. Warren grinned and followed, shaking out his wings a little. "You're gonna love it," he promised. Dude looked like he needed to unknot for a few minutes anyhow. Those lines in his forehead were about to become permanent.

Simon jumped, his eyes widening slightly to see Jean-Paul so excited. He hadn't seen him like that since he went flying in the rain. Which...didn't bode well. "Somehow, I get the feeling that's not entirely accurate."

"Non, I promise. This is good." Jean-Paul rested his folded arms on Simon's knees, just barely avoiding touching Simon's laptop. "We're going on a long weekend away together."

"Leaving the madhouse behind," Warren said in agreement, settling himself on the ottoman. "Just what we all need."

Simon frowned. "You mean you are going on a long weekend away. I have work to do."

"I mean the three of us are going," Jean-Paul said firmly. "We're not leaving you here to molder away."

"You know, there are actual studies that prove people do better work when they actually take time to rest and relax," Warren added, still grinning. "And, you know. Enjoy interpersonal relationships."

Simon shot a look at Warren. Using studies against him was completely uncalled for. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"The three of us," Jean-Paul said pointedly, "are going to Aspen. Where it is already winter."

"And there's a beautiful cabin with a huge crackling fire and lots of mulled wine. And peace and quiet. And privacy," Warren added, still smirking with triumph thanks to that look Simon had given him.

The med student had almost interrupted them right at 'winter' and said 'Hell, no.' He wasn't a huge fan of the cold. Or cold weather sports, and yes, he knew that meant skiing and snowboarding for Jean-Paul. But Warren had kept going, and 'huge crackling fire' and 'peace and quiet' drew him back in, a brief spark of maybe, sort of, interest. God knew he could use the peace and privacy. "No others?"

"Some very well-paid and loyal staff who specialize in minding their own business," Warren replied.

Simon glanced between the two of them, sighing softly. Between Jean-Paul's stubborn and Warren's rationale, it was hard to find an argument that would fit.

"That sounds like a yes to me." Jean-Paul smirked and crowded in closer, giving the laptop an annoyed look. "Either that, or an invitation to kidnapping."

"Which we are not above, by the way." Warren leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, watching them with interest and grinning.

"That's largely what I'm afraid of," Simon sighed, closing his laptop. "If I let you two geniuses pack my suitcase, I'll end up with two pairs of boxers and a winter coat."

"Lies and slander." With his rival disposed of, Jean-Paul pushed aside all pretense and took his rightful place on Simon's lap. "You know we both like seeing you dressed up."

"And then undressing you," Warren added, raising his eyebrows.

Simon was distracted enough with having Jean-Paul in his lap and not knowing what to do with it that he didn't really register Warren's reply. "When is this supposed trip?"

"This weekend I'm backing Scott up," Warren said, "so what about next Friday? We skip out early, get there in the afternoon, hunker down and get comfy by the time it's dark?"

"I've got nothing planned," Jean-Paul agreed. "But if we wait too much later, I'm going to be occupied with competition."

Simon nodded. “And I’ll be preoccupied with midterms soon. I suppose next Friday is the best option for all.”

Warren's smile became huge. "Awesome. You guys don't worry about anything. Just pack a bag, and I'll handle all the arrangements, okay?"

Jean-Paul let out his first genuine laugh in what seemed like weeks. "Sure, angel. We're all yours." Spoken as if he wasn't sprawled over Simon like a possessive cat.

Simon sighed, giving in to his friendly roommate and sliding his arms around him. "I'm not skiing," he warned them in advance.

"It's a great spectator sport," Warren said with a grin. As Jean-Paul had pointed out during their first real conversation, "I'm a fan."

Jean-Paul slid his hands under Simon's shirt with a grin. "And I make a great spectacle. You at least need to come watch. We can all warm up after."

Sighing in mock-annoyance, Simon dropped his head to Jean-Paul's shoulder. "You two are going to be the death of me."

"But what a way to go." Warren licked at his grinning lips. This was going to be epic.