Jay and Kevin | Early Monday Morning
Oct. 1st, 2007 11:49 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsThe new roommates meet. Jay decides he wants to walk through fire and Kevin falls apart because of it.
At some point in the night, Jay had drifted off to sleep. Unbeknownst to him, he had acquired a roommate. He had also molted all over the bed, littering the sheets in his restless sleep. Sitting upright, Jay brushed off the feathers, frustrated that this was happening at all. It was a burden to just have these wings, especially right now when he could be at a normal school rather than Xavier's. It wasn't that he didn't like them but why now, if at all, did he have to start shedding feathers like old clothing? Of course he was used to being here, but it didn't change that the school was his scapegoat when anything ever went wrong. The daylight was trying to break through the curtains, and Jay shut off the clock, rubbing his palms over his eyes.
His muscles ached from the drive as he lazily pushed off the bed, sauntering over to the window to check the weather. Not exactly clear but cloudy enough. Letting the curtains fall back in place he ran his fingers along the window, leaving thin streaks in the condensation left by the cool morning air. He let his hand fall and slap lazily against his thigh and walked towards the door. Throwing it open, Jay's shoulder connected with the frame. He immediately stopped in his tracks. The door to the bedroom across from his was closed. It hadn't been yesterday, and all the feathers he had left in his wake had been cleaned up. What, did they have a maid service now or something?
Kevin hadn't fully acclimated to the time difference in the week he'd been back in the states. Dawn had woken him, sun streaking through the gap in his curtains. It seemed the relaxation he'd gained the previous evening had fled his body and the usual tension sat between his shoulders. Hours had been spent just lounging in bed, happy to be out of the motel and unhappy to be back at Xavier's. He wondered, idly, who his roommate was. Scott had told him he had one, but he hadn't said who and Kevin hadn't bothered to ask either. He'd figured he'd find out soon enough anyway. Scott had said something else. Just got here? No, that wasn't right. Just gotten back? Yes, that was it. Maybe it was someone he would recognize. Or maybe not.
Peering down at the floor Kevin was oddly thankful for the faux wooden floor. It was nice to not need socks and shoes just to walk around his own bedroom. After pulling on clothing, including full length pants, a long sleeved hooded shirt and elbow-length gloves, he finally decided to wander out, maybe make something resembling breakfast. When he opened his door, though, Kevin found his roommate in the opposite doorway. "Mornin'," his voice was a little unsure. He didn't know if his roommate knew he had a roommate. Well, he did now.
Jay nearly laughed at the sudden appearance of his new 'roommate'. His mouth hung open in absolute surprise, clamped shut and twisted. Where his roommate was fully dressed, maybe even a little overdressed, Jay only had a pair of blue faded jeans on. He hadn't even bothered for a change.
The silence hung in the air between them and Jay fumbled for something to say. "Err, uh, Who 'er ya?" So he wasn't so good at intros so early in the morning. Though this guy was pretty shabby, he also wasn't half bad on the eyes. Brown luscious hair, and sensual deep brown eyes regarded back at Jay and he suddenly felt very self-conscious where he stood. Self-conscious but no desire to cover up any part of his body.
Awkward seemed to stretch out in the suite, stifling and heavy. Well, wasn't this a pleasant little introduction? "Kevin, Kevin Ford," he gave his roommate a small nod. Kevin's voice was always quiet, punctuated by the soft Georgia accent, but the newness of the living situation and being forced to be the one to explain had caused his tone to drop down a few notches in volume. "Guess I go' here not long after you las' night. Scott gave me the keys and told me 'd 'ave a roommate. Didn' bother to ask who. Figured you 'ere asleep when I got in, door was closed." The explanation was good enough, but Kevin felt all twitchy. Maybe it was the way the other guy could stand there in just jeans and not worry about melting the wall potentially.
It took Kevin this long to actually notice the red wings. The wings those feathers had belonged to. They were pretty, if you could call something on a guy pretty. Forcing himself out of his doorway, Kevin decided the kitchen was the safest goal. "I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry. Been up for hours."
"Jay," he said uneasily and scratched the inside of his elbow. They weren't at a stand off but he felt like they were. One to move, the other to follow, but who would do it first? His wings shifted only slightly when Kevin's gaze fell on them, and he pushed off the frame, heading barefoot into the room.
"Yeah, he left that part out with me," Jay said, even though it wasn't Scott who had given him the keys. He wandered over to his bag, picking it up and chucking it just on the inside of his door. He grabbed for his guitar and set it outside the frame because he had no intentions of leaving it in his room. The novelty of being alone had melted away and he couldn't tell if he was more ticked off of the fact that he had a roommate, or that he had a good looking roommate.
"What 'er ya makin'?" he asked in a typical southern drawl, scratching across his stomach before he sat down on the couch, trailing small feathers over the room.
"Didn' really exis' here when you got here so it wasn't his fault." Why Kevin was defending Scott he had no idea. Maybe it was because of the fact that Scott was ensuring the suite was Kevin friendly. Not only that, but when he'd said it Scott didn't sound put out by the changes. Standard procedure 'round here, likely. Everyone had some weird hitch, right?
Between the throwing of the duffel bag and the scratching of the stomach Jay's actions came off as such a demonstration of man that it was almost funny. Not funny enough to threaten to twitch Kevin's mouth upward into a grin, but enough that one corner of his mouth twitched up for a moment before falling back in place. It was the sudden thickening of the drawl that really caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow at his roommate. "What'd they do, stick the only two guys from confederate states togetha in hopes we wouldn' get Southern feva and try an' kill all the yankees 'round us?"
He shook his head and went rifling through the fridge and cabinets. Gotta give it to Xavier's, they sure as hell made sure people got fed. He looked over the options and frowned. Couldn't make biscuits and gravy. That was a let down. He'd have to make a request or wander into town to buy stuff maybe. There was promising breakfast stuff, but not biscuits and gravy sort of promising. "Got bacon, eggs an' stuff to make pancakes. Yay or nay?"
"Heh, yeah, maybe," Jay smirked half heartedly and yawned, sitting up and turning his head to one side, lazily stretching upwards. A moan slipped from his lips before his hands flopped back down into his lap and he looked around at how new everything was. New and... not really comfortable. Jay tested the couch, recalling how their old furniture was far more comfortable. And the floor was cool, unwelcoming in that echoing, hollow kind of way.
He pushed off from the couch and wandered over to the kitchen, careful to keep space between himself and his new roommate. He didn't want to over crowd him, but then again, couldn't help but want to casually stare without staring. "Aren't ya hot? It's bakin' in 'ere like an oven an' yer all dressed like we're in Alaska." He brushed his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes, though the effort did little as strands fell back into place. He supposed this was the new roommate syndrome, where they had to generously make each other breakfast and act like everything's just sunny.
He was content to not ask deep questions nor be asked such questions, and turned on the counter so his elbows, wings and back rested against the edge. More feathers littered the ground, and Jays eyes followed how much he was dropping, and whether or not he was going to pick them up. He'd probably just make more of a mess if he did.
The question was honestly one Kevin was expecting and he did little more than shrug when it was issued. "Nah, 'm from Atlan'a, this ain't heat, not really. Dream vacation compared t' the freezing poin' temperatures at Muir though." Kevin shuddered a little, glad to be out of that place. It wasn't bad, not really, but he didn't want anything to do with going back there, that was for damn sure. "'Sides, it's better than the alternative." He looked between himself and where Jay was now leaning against the counter. It wasn't close enough to be dangerous and Kevin was just as covered as he usually was, save for another two layers. Still, the anxiety started in his stomach and jumped up into his throat. Unconsciously he took a step away from his roommate. "Wouldn' wan' t' get too close," he said, his quiet voice taking on a slightly distracted quality and just a hint of his anxiety. "Really ain' sumthin' ya wanna be doin'."
Concentrating on food was easier. He'd learned to handle food pretty quickly after coming to Xavier's. Learned how to eat while mostly bypassing his lips. They said at Muir his lips weren't much of a problem as the rest of him was. Something about the skin being different. Still, everything past the edge of the lip was still trouble and decomposing dinner wasn't too appetizing. Cooking made him feel more normal. When he was younger his dad would have to leave real early and he'd get back pretty late some days. Kevin had learned to cook so his dad wouldn't have to worry about getting home after work and needing to feed him. It just became habit after that. Monday through Friday Kevin cooked. Saturday and Sunday his dad did. It was the only normalcy Kevin had most days, cooking, and he just sort of naturally slid back into it living with someone else.
Asking about Muir was on the tip of his tongue, until Kevin turned the conversation elsewhere, more specifically, his powers. Jay judged the distance between them and how much he would have liked to close it, except he was being warned. He could have almost groaned at the unexpected trait of power Kevin was suggesting. While he didn't say what it was specifically, Jay got the message. He had to stop himself from saying 'oh no, you're one of those'. Disappointment filling his expression and he moved off from the counter, out of the kitchen as not to get in the way, or whatever it was Kevin was suggesting. "So, wha's the alternative?" he asked. Of course he would ask. He had to ask, had to know lest his roommate do something screwy and hurt him in the process. Self preservation deemed such questions.
Kevin wasn't sure what that look of disappointment was for. He hadn't picked up on any of that attraction, physical as it was, from Jay. It wouldn't have occurred to him even if he had picked up on it. "Alternative ain't pretty," Kevin warned. He could tell him what it was or he could show him what it was. Words never seemed to quite impact people the same way. Jay seemed impacted enough, though, since he had left the kitchen entirely. The gesture, as smart as it was, made Kevin think being back at Xavier's was going to be lonelier than he'd anticipated. After all, it was one thing to be a freak among freaks, it was another thing to actually be treated that way. Looking around Kevin picked up a feather that had fallen onto the counter top. He held it up for Jay to see while he decided whether or not he wanted to bother with his gloves. Kevin came down against that. Instead he lifted his shirt up, exposing his stomach. Then he barely touched the feather flat to his skin and in a few moments it was just ash falling to the floor or clinging to flesh. "Happens ta anythin' organic. 'Cludin' you."
Not for a second was Jay focused on the feather in Kevin's hand. His eyes were fixated on Kevin's stomach, flesh and a longing to touch. What was wrong with him? Was he so desperate that he just fell immediately for the first guy to walk into his life looking good? No, Kevin didn't need that, and Jay didn't want to give it. But he was already struck by cupid's relentless arrow, even if it was just a physical attraction. Besides, he didn't know if Kevin even swung that way and was even less inclined to ask.
All words fell from his mouth as he realized just how untouchable his roommate really was. Very untouchable, and Jay chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of something sympathetic to say, or maybe even comforting. He was at a loss for words.
The silence was more than enough for Kevin. He didn't need to hear any words, he knew the reaction. He'd gotten it before and as used to it as he may be he'd never learned to be okay with it. It was that mingled air of how much more of a freak he was than everyone else and that relentless fucking pity everyone gave him. People looked at him like that old dog about to be put down who hadn't even realized it yet. Kevin was so over that reaction.
He brushed the ashes off his stomach that seemed to be hell bent on clinging there, then let his shirt drop. He fixated on cooking for entirely different reasons now. Before cooking was something normal, something old, and something oddly comforting. Now it was just a distraction from the knot curling itself tighter in his stomach. It was easier being out there alone than it was being in here. That was becoming acutely obvious to Kevin right now.
"Already ten minutes an' a rift between us. Who woulda thought." Jay snorted with a bitter laugh to himself. "Ah could regrow." Not that he'd want to go through that agonizing pain and take two weeks to regrow a limb, for a crush to touch. He was pretty sure it wasn't worth the effort. "So what? If Ah touched you through yer shirt, ya could still feel it but yer shirt would protect me huh?" he asked. It was better to know.
He could sense Kevin's change immediately, could see it in his eyes the subtle way he moved to continue cooking. "So ya like cleanin' an' cookin' both? Cause Ah don't see all, or any of them feathers Ah dropped yesterday." Except the ones he just dropped recently from bedroom to couch, to kitchen. By this rate, he would have the ground completely littered with them.
"Not worth it," was Kevin's reaction to the idea of regrowing. He didn't get why anyone would even want to consider that even if they could. Of course, he wasn't getting a whole lot of subtext that was floating around between them. He looked down at his shirt, thumb hooking onto the hem of it and twisted it. "Yea', technically. I mean, works so far. Don' trust 't much, though. Once there was a hole in my glove, got snagged on sumthin' an' didn' realize i'. Whole sketch book crumbled un'er my han'." Which was the exact reason why he hadn't started drawing again. It's why he didn't ever try to paint. Metal was so much safer, comforting, secure.
Swallowing, he did not look back up at Jay. Instead Kevin laid the strips of bacon out with a fork, one by one next to each other in a perfect line. "Figure' whoever had feathers an' lef' 'em all lying aroun' didn' much need 'em. Had an idea, needed to experimen' and they were the mos' disposable thin' aroun'." He hoped Jay wouldn't get even more freaked out or pissed off or whatever it was he was going to get. Kevin wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to handle that too well at the moment.
Jay was all about crossing lines today, his mood lifting significantly at the prospect of actually trying to get along with his roommate. Plus, the fascination was there, to test Kevin, to test himself. But he knew he had to be careful. One slip up, one simple mistake and he would suffer for it. Terribly. He was determined, not to cross boundaries but make himself feel slightly better with prospect of trying. He hadn't wanted to ever try this before. No, this wasn't about the crush, but more about contact, more to test the maximum limits he could.
Rounding the corner, he walked casually, yet carefully over to Kevin. "Don't be a jerk, an' go crazy," he snapped before Kev could get a protest out of his lips. Jay's fingers reached out to lightly touch the fabric over the stomach, but not the skin. He did it with his right hand, carefully and slowly. Even the slightest mistake would cost him. Cost them, because he could imagine what it felt like to not be able to touch another person. Yet being touched was completely different, even if it was through fabric.
Kevin had been very, very specifically concentrating on cooking. On food. On breakfast. On things he could do and control. He hadn't noticed Jay coming closer. He hadn't seen the movement out of the corner of his eye when the other guy had neared the counter. It wasn't until Jay had spoke and was coming rather close to him that he noticed. Kevin had turned to try to ask what Jay was talking about and why he would be going crazy but he hadn't needed to ask.
By the time Kevin had opened his mouth to even begin to speak Jay had reached out. It took too long in his head to figure it out and to react. It took so long that the fingers touched his stomach first and Kevin froze, eyes fixed on the hand and arm extended toward him. He wasn't even breathing. The muscles of his stomach tensed immediately. A small trembling started, partially from the strain of not moving and accidentally hurting Jay and partially because of the emotion the act of being touched voluntarily triggered. People did not touch Kevin. They met with horrible deaths when they touched him because they didn't know what he was. If they knew what he was then they didn't even attempt it. They stayed away and give him a wide berth. But Jay wasn't. The trembling didn't stop and Kevin swore he could feel it inside of him more than outside. It wasn't something that could be seen but he was willing to bet Jay could feel it.
Eyes never coming off that hand, off those fingers, Kevin stared. Barely even registering as a whisper his soft voice could almost not be heard asking, "What're you doin'?" Stupid question, probably. Still, it was the question. The next on the list was why. Why was Jay doing this?
Jay was tense too. Probably because it ranked in the top ten stupid things a Guthrie could do this year, and though he felt he filled that list, one more wouldn't hurt. The distance between them remained the same, and Jay was ready to recoil his hand if Kevin freaked out. But as the fingers touched the protective fabric, they hesitated, the tremble beneath them telling him every inch of Kevin secretly longed to be touched.
The sizzle of bacon filled the room, yet Jay barely noticed. His finger tips spread out over the tender, lean stomach and for a moment, he allowed himself to breath, not even realizing he had been holding it the entire time. "Shhh, don't talk, just feel it," Jay responded quietly. No, this wasn't just for Kevin, he realized, but for himself too. He longed to touch someone, to give a part of himself, and yet he didn't want to look too deep into what he was doing. When he did, that was when hearts broke.
His thumb stroked the muscle there, his breathing slow, attentive to every muscle that moved beneath his touch. Slowly, and very carefully, Jay recoiled his hand and backed a pace away. Gesturing to the pan with a nod of his head, he seemed satisfied as he brought Kevin's attention back down to earth. "Bacon's burnin'."
Kevin was definitely freaking out. He was just doing it very, very quietly. In his head it seemed loud. He could hear himself scream in his head though he couldn't make out what the hell he was screaming about exactly. Kevin was quite fond of ignoring his own need to be touched. Everyone needed to be touched; this was one of those annoyingly insightful but ultimately useless things he learned at Muir. The human mind didn't do so well without touch. Touch calmed, it comforted, it kept people sane. Kevin hadn't purposely touched or been touched by anyone in years. Even someone grabbing his arm would have him pulling away just in case, despite the two to five layers of clothing he wore. Jay clearly had a death wish.
Jay's words barely registered. Kevin recognized the sounds and understood what was said but then all the words slipped through his mind like sand through a sieve. He was still staring, watching the fingers spread and the thumb nearly caress over his stomach. The moment Jay's thumb had started to move Kevin had breathed in sharply. It wasn't until the hand was retracted that a slow, shaky breath was finally released. Shirt or no shirt, his stomach tingled where the contact with Jay's hand had been. It wasn't like the hot, prickling, searing memory of Chakra's hand on his cheek. This was more like a cool trickling, a tingling more like water falling over stones in a stream.
Focus was fuzzy at best until Jay mentioned the bacon. "Huh?" Jay had taken a step back but he still wasn't that far away. Still, Kevin managed to turn and focus on the bacon, trying desperately to regulate his breathing as he flipped the bacon to see if it would be salvageable.
He could see it. The intimate gesture fixed Kevin on the spot, unable to move, unable to want to move with the fear in his eyes that Jay would be hurt. He was touched by the sincerity, despite being complete strangers. The caress had been small, but even the most subtle movements cause a struggle, a closing bond that gripped each of them in different ways. Jay wasn't blind, and he wouldn't push, wasn't pushing for anything. How could he? His own loneliness had taken his hand, impulsively walked a line through the fire, and came out unscathed.
There was something terribly satisfying about this, and it gave Jay the illusion that everything was alright for now. They weren't trying to be friends, but they were trying for something. He could build on that. He couldn't promise anything, nor could he say he would be there for Kevin. They barely knew each other, yet he felt he had taken a big leap with his roommate, forming a balance that had initially been an experiment. A very dangerous one at that. It was worth it though, if only for the look on Kevin's face, and the trembling flesh beneath. He touched but did not cast himself into the unknown. He was sure the feeling would linger for days.
Jay left his roommate in the kitchen and headed for the bedroom, intent on getting a t-shirt over himself while he waited, wondering what Kev was thinking, wondering what he really was doing with that whole spectacle.
Kevin was doing everything he possibly could to not completely lose it right now. He was taking the edges of himself and pulling them in toward the center, making himself into a tight little impenetrable ball mentally. He felt like crumbling. He felt like falling apart and not caring but he absolutely refused to do that. For once Kevin could not ignore that desperate, cold longing that sat in the middle of his heart to just be touched. Any touch, just one that was meant. Suddenly he was given just that and he didn't know how to deal with it. The fact was he still had no idea why Jay had done it and wasn't sure if he asked if he'd get an answer so he didn't. Jay wasn't the source from which Kevin would have ever wanted or asked for such a thing from, but that's who gave it to him. More questions filled Kevin's mind than anything. His trembling continued and spread, though he held himself as still as he could while concentrating on breakfast. It wasn't the same kind of trembling though; it had changed into something new.
It wasn't until Jay had left by going into his room that Kevin let go at all. New strips of bacon were in the pan and he just fell to the ground and curled into a ball, burying his face in his knees. It was then he started to cry silently and prayed his roommate did not come back out yet. It was the only escape all that emotion had and it was going to come out whether or not Kevin liked it or would allow it. He was so freaked out and relieved and happy and confused that the boy couldn't do anything but try to curl in on himself further than he already was. If it wasn't for the gloves he wore Kevin would have likely drawn blood with the grasp he had on his arms.
Time stretched out in front of him and it seemed to take Kevin forever to get himself under control again. It had only been a few minutes. He still wasn't okay, wasn't even close to approaching okay, but he managed to stop the tears. He managed to wipe them off his face and take enough deep breaths that the shaking had stopped or at least calmed down quite a bit. By time he stood up, as collected as he was going to get, the bacon hadn't even burned on that side. He flipped the strips and turned his attention to the eggs. Concentration really was key.
It was obvious, though. Living here was going to be the hardest fucking thing he ever did.
At some point in the night, Jay had drifted off to sleep. Unbeknownst to him, he had acquired a roommate. He had also molted all over the bed, littering the sheets in his restless sleep. Sitting upright, Jay brushed off the feathers, frustrated that this was happening at all. It was a burden to just have these wings, especially right now when he could be at a normal school rather than Xavier's. It wasn't that he didn't like them but why now, if at all, did he have to start shedding feathers like old clothing? Of course he was used to being here, but it didn't change that the school was his scapegoat when anything ever went wrong. The daylight was trying to break through the curtains, and Jay shut off the clock, rubbing his palms over his eyes.
His muscles ached from the drive as he lazily pushed off the bed, sauntering over to the window to check the weather. Not exactly clear but cloudy enough. Letting the curtains fall back in place he ran his fingers along the window, leaving thin streaks in the condensation left by the cool morning air. He let his hand fall and slap lazily against his thigh and walked towards the door. Throwing it open, Jay's shoulder connected with the frame. He immediately stopped in his tracks. The door to the bedroom across from his was closed. It hadn't been yesterday, and all the feathers he had left in his wake had been cleaned up. What, did they have a maid service now or something?
Kevin hadn't fully acclimated to the time difference in the week he'd been back in the states. Dawn had woken him, sun streaking through the gap in his curtains. It seemed the relaxation he'd gained the previous evening had fled his body and the usual tension sat between his shoulders. Hours had been spent just lounging in bed, happy to be out of the motel and unhappy to be back at Xavier's. He wondered, idly, who his roommate was. Scott had told him he had one, but he hadn't said who and Kevin hadn't bothered to ask either. He'd figured he'd find out soon enough anyway. Scott had said something else. Just got here? No, that wasn't right. Just gotten back? Yes, that was it. Maybe it was someone he would recognize. Or maybe not.
Peering down at the floor Kevin was oddly thankful for the faux wooden floor. It was nice to not need socks and shoes just to walk around his own bedroom. After pulling on clothing, including full length pants, a long sleeved hooded shirt and elbow-length gloves, he finally decided to wander out, maybe make something resembling breakfast. When he opened his door, though, Kevin found his roommate in the opposite doorway. "Mornin'," his voice was a little unsure. He didn't know if his roommate knew he had a roommate. Well, he did now.
Jay nearly laughed at the sudden appearance of his new 'roommate'. His mouth hung open in absolute surprise, clamped shut and twisted. Where his roommate was fully dressed, maybe even a little overdressed, Jay only had a pair of blue faded jeans on. He hadn't even bothered for a change.
The silence hung in the air between them and Jay fumbled for something to say. "Err, uh, Who 'er ya?" So he wasn't so good at intros so early in the morning. Though this guy was pretty shabby, he also wasn't half bad on the eyes. Brown luscious hair, and sensual deep brown eyes regarded back at Jay and he suddenly felt very self-conscious where he stood. Self-conscious but no desire to cover up any part of his body.
Awkward seemed to stretch out in the suite, stifling and heavy. Well, wasn't this a pleasant little introduction? "Kevin, Kevin Ford," he gave his roommate a small nod. Kevin's voice was always quiet, punctuated by the soft Georgia accent, but the newness of the living situation and being forced to be the one to explain had caused his tone to drop down a few notches in volume. "Guess I go' here not long after you las' night. Scott gave me the keys and told me 'd 'ave a roommate. Didn' bother to ask who. Figured you 'ere asleep when I got in, door was closed." The explanation was good enough, but Kevin felt all twitchy. Maybe it was the way the other guy could stand there in just jeans and not worry about melting the wall potentially.
It took Kevin this long to actually notice the red wings. The wings those feathers had belonged to. They were pretty, if you could call something on a guy pretty. Forcing himself out of his doorway, Kevin decided the kitchen was the safest goal. "I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry. Been up for hours."
"Jay," he said uneasily and scratched the inside of his elbow. They weren't at a stand off but he felt like they were. One to move, the other to follow, but who would do it first? His wings shifted only slightly when Kevin's gaze fell on them, and he pushed off the frame, heading barefoot into the room.
"Yeah, he left that part out with me," Jay said, even though it wasn't Scott who had given him the keys. He wandered over to his bag, picking it up and chucking it just on the inside of his door. He grabbed for his guitar and set it outside the frame because he had no intentions of leaving it in his room. The novelty of being alone had melted away and he couldn't tell if he was more ticked off of the fact that he had a roommate, or that he had a good looking roommate.
"What 'er ya makin'?" he asked in a typical southern drawl, scratching across his stomach before he sat down on the couch, trailing small feathers over the room.
"Didn' really exis' here when you got here so it wasn't his fault." Why Kevin was defending Scott he had no idea. Maybe it was because of the fact that Scott was ensuring the suite was Kevin friendly. Not only that, but when he'd said it Scott didn't sound put out by the changes. Standard procedure 'round here, likely. Everyone had some weird hitch, right?
Between the throwing of the duffel bag and the scratching of the stomach Jay's actions came off as such a demonstration of man that it was almost funny. Not funny enough to threaten to twitch Kevin's mouth upward into a grin, but enough that one corner of his mouth twitched up for a moment before falling back in place. It was the sudden thickening of the drawl that really caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow at his roommate. "What'd they do, stick the only two guys from confederate states togetha in hopes we wouldn' get Southern feva and try an' kill all the yankees 'round us?"
He shook his head and went rifling through the fridge and cabinets. Gotta give it to Xavier's, they sure as hell made sure people got fed. He looked over the options and frowned. Couldn't make biscuits and gravy. That was a let down. He'd have to make a request or wander into town to buy stuff maybe. There was promising breakfast stuff, but not biscuits and gravy sort of promising. "Got bacon, eggs an' stuff to make pancakes. Yay or nay?"
"Heh, yeah, maybe," Jay smirked half heartedly and yawned, sitting up and turning his head to one side, lazily stretching upwards. A moan slipped from his lips before his hands flopped back down into his lap and he looked around at how new everything was. New and... not really comfortable. Jay tested the couch, recalling how their old furniture was far more comfortable. And the floor was cool, unwelcoming in that echoing, hollow kind of way.
He pushed off from the couch and wandered over to the kitchen, careful to keep space between himself and his new roommate. He didn't want to over crowd him, but then again, couldn't help but want to casually stare without staring. "Aren't ya hot? It's bakin' in 'ere like an oven an' yer all dressed like we're in Alaska." He brushed his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes, though the effort did little as strands fell back into place. He supposed this was the new roommate syndrome, where they had to generously make each other breakfast and act like everything's just sunny.
He was content to not ask deep questions nor be asked such questions, and turned on the counter so his elbows, wings and back rested against the edge. More feathers littered the ground, and Jays eyes followed how much he was dropping, and whether or not he was going to pick them up. He'd probably just make more of a mess if he did.
The question was honestly one Kevin was expecting and he did little more than shrug when it was issued. "Nah, 'm from Atlan'a, this ain't heat, not really. Dream vacation compared t' the freezing poin' temperatures at Muir though." Kevin shuddered a little, glad to be out of that place. It wasn't bad, not really, but he didn't want anything to do with going back there, that was for damn sure. "'Sides, it's better than the alternative." He looked between himself and where Jay was now leaning against the counter. It wasn't close enough to be dangerous and Kevin was just as covered as he usually was, save for another two layers. Still, the anxiety started in his stomach and jumped up into his throat. Unconsciously he took a step away from his roommate. "Wouldn' wan' t' get too close," he said, his quiet voice taking on a slightly distracted quality and just a hint of his anxiety. "Really ain' sumthin' ya wanna be doin'."
Concentrating on food was easier. He'd learned to handle food pretty quickly after coming to Xavier's. Learned how to eat while mostly bypassing his lips. They said at Muir his lips weren't much of a problem as the rest of him was. Something about the skin being different. Still, everything past the edge of the lip was still trouble and decomposing dinner wasn't too appetizing. Cooking made him feel more normal. When he was younger his dad would have to leave real early and he'd get back pretty late some days. Kevin had learned to cook so his dad wouldn't have to worry about getting home after work and needing to feed him. It just became habit after that. Monday through Friday Kevin cooked. Saturday and Sunday his dad did. It was the only normalcy Kevin had most days, cooking, and he just sort of naturally slid back into it living with someone else.
Asking about Muir was on the tip of his tongue, until Kevin turned the conversation elsewhere, more specifically, his powers. Jay judged the distance between them and how much he would have liked to close it, except he was being warned. He could have almost groaned at the unexpected trait of power Kevin was suggesting. While he didn't say what it was specifically, Jay got the message. He had to stop himself from saying 'oh no, you're one of those'. Disappointment filling his expression and he moved off from the counter, out of the kitchen as not to get in the way, or whatever it was Kevin was suggesting. "So, wha's the alternative?" he asked. Of course he would ask. He had to ask, had to know lest his roommate do something screwy and hurt him in the process. Self preservation deemed such questions.
Kevin wasn't sure what that look of disappointment was for. He hadn't picked up on any of that attraction, physical as it was, from Jay. It wouldn't have occurred to him even if he had picked up on it. "Alternative ain't pretty," Kevin warned. He could tell him what it was or he could show him what it was. Words never seemed to quite impact people the same way. Jay seemed impacted enough, though, since he had left the kitchen entirely. The gesture, as smart as it was, made Kevin think being back at Xavier's was going to be lonelier than he'd anticipated. After all, it was one thing to be a freak among freaks, it was another thing to actually be treated that way. Looking around Kevin picked up a feather that had fallen onto the counter top. He held it up for Jay to see while he decided whether or not he wanted to bother with his gloves. Kevin came down against that. Instead he lifted his shirt up, exposing his stomach. Then he barely touched the feather flat to his skin and in a few moments it was just ash falling to the floor or clinging to flesh. "Happens ta anythin' organic. 'Cludin' you."
Not for a second was Jay focused on the feather in Kevin's hand. His eyes were fixated on Kevin's stomach, flesh and a longing to touch. What was wrong with him? Was he so desperate that he just fell immediately for the first guy to walk into his life looking good? No, Kevin didn't need that, and Jay didn't want to give it. But he was already struck by cupid's relentless arrow, even if it was just a physical attraction. Besides, he didn't know if Kevin even swung that way and was even less inclined to ask.
All words fell from his mouth as he realized just how untouchable his roommate really was. Very untouchable, and Jay chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of something sympathetic to say, or maybe even comforting. He was at a loss for words.
The silence was more than enough for Kevin. He didn't need to hear any words, he knew the reaction. He'd gotten it before and as used to it as he may be he'd never learned to be okay with it. It was that mingled air of how much more of a freak he was than everyone else and that relentless fucking pity everyone gave him. People looked at him like that old dog about to be put down who hadn't even realized it yet. Kevin was so over that reaction.
He brushed the ashes off his stomach that seemed to be hell bent on clinging there, then let his shirt drop. He fixated on cooking for entirely different reasons now. Before cooking was something normal, something old, and something oddly comforting. Now it was just a distraction from the knot curling itself tighter in his stomach. It was easier being out there alone than it was being in here. That was becoming acutely obvious to Kevin right now.
"Already ten minutes an' a rift between us. Who woulda thought." Jay snorted with a bitter laugh to himself. "Ah could regrow." Not that he'd want to go through that agonizing pain and take two weeks to regrow a limb, for a crush to touch. He was pretty sure it wasn't worth the effort. "So what? If Ah touched you through yer shirt, ya could still feel it but yer shirt would protect me huh?" he asked. It was better to know.
He could sense Kevin's change immediately, could see it in his eyes the subtle way he moved to continue cooking. "So ya like cleanin' an' cookin' both? Cause Ah don't see all, or any of them feathers Ah dropped yesterday." Except the ones he just dropped recently from bedroom to couch, to kitchen. By this rate, he would have the ground completely littered with them.
"Not worth it," was Kevin's reaction to the idea of regrowing. He didn't get why anyone would even want to consider that even if they could. Of course, he wasn't getting a whole lot of subtext that was floating around between them. He looked down at his shirt, thumb hooking onto the hem of it and twisted it. "Yea', technically. I mean, works so far. Don' trust 't much, though. Once there was a hole in my glove, got snagged on sumthin' an' didn' realize i'. Whole sketch book crumbled un'er my han'." Which was the exact reason why he hadn't started drawing again. It's why he didn't ever try to paint. Metal was so much safer, comforting, secure.
Swallowing, he did not look back up at Jay. Instead Kevin laid the strips of bacon out with a fork, one by one next to each other in a perfect line. "Figure' whoever had feathers an' lef' 'em all lying aroun' didn' much need 'em. Had an idea, needed to experimen' and they were the mos' disposable thin' aroun'." He hoped Jay wouldn't get even more freaked out or pissed off or whatever it was he was going to get. Kevin wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to handle that too well at the moment.
Jay was all about crossing lines today, his mood lifting significantly at the prospect of actually trying to get along with his roommate. Plus, the fascination was there, to test Kevin, to test himself. But he knew he had to be careful. One slip up, one simple mistake and he would suffer for it. Terribly. He was determined, not to cross boundaries but make himself feel slightly better with prospect of trying. He hadn't wanted to ever try this before. No, this wasn't about the crush, but more about contact, more to test the maximum limits he could.
Rounding the corner, he walked casually, yet carefully over to Kevin. "Don't be a jerk, an' go crazy," he snapped before Kev could get a protest out of his lips. Jay's fingers reached out to lightly touch the fabric over the stomach, but not the skin. He did it with his right hand, carefully and slowly. Even the slightest mistake would cost him. Cost them, because he could imagine what it felt like to not be able to touch another person. Yet being touched was completely different, even if it was through fabric.
Kevin had been very, very specifically concentrating on cooking. On food. On breakfast. On things he could do and control. He hadn't noticed Jay coming closer. He hadn't seen the movement out of the corner of his eye when the other guy had neared the counter. It wasn't until Jay had spoke and was coming rather close to him that he noticed. Kevin had turned to try to ask what Jay was talking about and why he would be going crazy but he hadn't needed to ask.
By the time Kevin had opened his mouth to even begin to speak Jay had reached out. It took too long in his head to figure it out and to react. It took so long that the fingers touched his stomach first and Kevin froze, eyes fixed on the hand and arm extended toward him. He wasn't even breathing. The muscles of his stomach tensed immediately. A small trembling started, partially from the strain of not moving and accidentally hurting Jay and partially because of the emotion the act of being touched voluntarily triggered. People did not touch Kevin. They met with horrible deaths when they touched him because they didn't know what he was. If they knew what he was then they didn't even attempt it. They stayed away and give him a wide berth. But Jay wasn't. The trembling didn't stop and Kevin swore he could feel it inside of him more than outside. It wasn't something that could be seen but he was willing to bet Jay could feel it.
Eyes never coming off that hand, off those fingers, Kevin stared. Barely even registering as a whisper his soft voice could almost not be heard asking, "What're you doin'?" Stupid question, probably. Still, it was the question. The next on the list was why. Why was Jay doing this?
Jay was tense too. Probably because it ranked in the top ten stupid things a Guthrie could do this year, and though he felt he filled that list, one more wouldn't hurt. The distance between them remained the same, and Jay was ready to recoil his hand if Kevin freaked out. But as the fingers touched the protective fabric, they hesitated, the tremble beneath them telling him every inch of Kevin secretly longed to be touched.
The sizzle of bacon filled the room, yet Jay barely noticed. His finger tips spread out over the tender, lean stomach and for a moment, he allowed himself to breath, not even realizing he had been holding it the entire time. "Shhh, don't talk, just feel it," Jay responded quietly. No, this wasn't just for Kevin, he realized, but for himself too. He longed to touch someone, to give a part of himself, and yet he didn't want to look too deep into what he was doing. When he did, that was when hearts broke.
His thumb stroked the muscle there, his breathing slow, attentive to every muscle that moved beneath his touch. Slowly, and very carefully, Jay recoiled his hand and backed a pace away. Gesturing to the pan with a nod of his head, he seemed satisfied as he brought Kevin's attention back down to earth. "Bacon's burnin'."
Kevin was definitely freaking out. He was just doing it very, very quietly. In his head it seemed loud. He could hear himself scream in his head though he couldn't make out what the hell he was screaming about exactly. Kevin was quite fond of ignoring his own need to be touched. Everyone needed to be touched; this was one of those annoyingly insightful but ultimately useless things he learned at Muir. The human mind didn't do so well without touch. Touch calmed, it comforted, it kept people sane. Kevin hadn't purposely touched or been touched by anyone in years. Even someone grabbing his arm would have him pulling away just in case, despite the two to five layers of clothing he wore. Jay clearly had a death wish.
Jay's words barely registered. Kevin recognized the sounds and understood what was said but then all the words slipped through his mind like sand through a sieve. He was still staring, watching the fingers spread and the thumb nearly caress over his stomach. The moment Jay's thumb had started to move Kevin had breathed in sharply. It wasn't until the hand was retracted that a slow, shaky breath was finally released. Shirt or no shirt, his stomach tingled where the contact with Jay's hand had been. It wasn't like the hot, prickling, searing memory of Chakra's hand on his cheek. This was more like a cool trickling, a tingling more like water falling over stones in a stream.
Focus was fuzzy at best until Jay mentioned the bacon. "Huh?" Jay had taken a step back but he still wasn't that far away. Still, Kevin managed to turn and focus on the bacon, trying desperately to regulate his breathing as he flipped the bacon to see if it would be salvageable.
He could see it. The intimate gesture fixed Kevin on the spot, unable to move, unable to want to move with the fear in his eyes that Jay would be hurt. He was touched by the sincerity, despite being complete strangers. The caress had been small, but even the most subtle movements cause a struggle, a closing bond that gripped each of them in different ways. Jay wasn't blind, and he wouldn't push, wasn't pushing for anything. How could he? His own loneliness had taken his hand, impulsively walked a line through the fire, and came out unscathed.
There was something terribly satisfying about this, and it gave Jay the illusion that everything was alright for now. They weren't trying to be friends, but they were trying for something. He could build on that. He couldn't promise anything, nor could he say he would be there for Kevin. They barely knew each other, yet he felt he had taken a big leap with his roommate, forming a balance that had initially been an experiment. A very dangerous one at that. It was worth it though, if only for the look on Kevin's face, and the trembling flesh beneath. He touched but did not cast himself into the unknown. He was sure the feeling would linger for days.
Jay left his roommate in the kitchen and headed for the bedroom, intent on getting a t-shirt over himself while he waited, wondering what Kev was thinking, wondering what he really was doing with that whole spectacle.
Kevin was doing everything he possibly could to not completely lose it right now. He was taking the edges of himself and pulling them in toward the center, making himself into a tight little impenetrable ball mentally. He felt like crumbling. He felt like falling apart and not caring but he absolutely refused to do that. For once Kevin could not ignore that desperate, cold longing that sat in the middle of his heart to just be touched. Any touch, just one that was meant. Suddenly he was given just that and he didn't know how to deal with it. The fact was he still had no idea why Jay had done it and wasn't sure if he asked if he'd get an answer so he didn't. Jay wasn't the source from which Kevin would have ever wanted or asked for such a thing from, but that's who gave it to him. More questions filled Kevin's mind than anything. His trembling continued and spread, though he held himself as still as he could while concentrating on breakfast. It wasn't the same kind of trembling though; it had changed into something new.
It wasn't until Jay had left by going into his room that Kevin let go at all. New strips of bacon were in the pan and he just fell to the ground and curled into a ball, burying his face in his knees. It was then he started to cry silently and prayed his roommate did not come back out yet. It was the only escape all that emotion had and it was going to come out whether or not Kevin liked it or would allow it. He was so freaked out and relieved and happy and confused that the boy couldn't do anything but try to curl in on himself further than he already was. If it wasn't for the gloves he wore Kevin would have likely drawn blood with the grasp he had on his arms.
Time stretched out in front of him and it seemed to take Kevin forever to get himself under control again. It had only been a few minutes. He still wasn't okay, wasn't even close to approaching okay, but he managed to stop the tears. He managed to wipe them off his face and take enough deep breaths that the shaking had stopped or at least calmed down quite a bit. By time he stood up, as collected as he was going to get, the bacon hadn't even burned on that side. He flipped the strips and turned his attention to the eggs. Concentration really was key.
It was obvious, though. Living here was going to be the hardest fucking thing he ever did.
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