Jay & John | Late Monday Night (Backdated!)

[x-pyromania.livejournal.com]

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down." -Woody Allen-

The warm summer breeze lifted him up higher and gave him a chance to behold the city lights in the distance below. When you've seen one light, you've seen them all and Jay vaguely paid attention to anything else but the excitement of getting off early. The night was dead and he was not as hollow as he thought he would be, especially in light of the recent breakup. Another subtle breeze lifted him again, threatening to throw him off balance and tumble him to the ground. He countered it automatically, a subtle reaction that was as normal as a bird changing direction.

Nearing the mansion, Jay caught sight of an unsuspecting victim and dove down. He curled his wings into him, gaining speed and smirked as they spread at the last minute, wrapping his arms around John's torso and plucking him from the ground.

"Hey baby," he purred into John's neck, his lips brushing the skin before flapping hard to lift them to the mansion's rooftop.

Any other day and John would have shouted a litany of abuse and demanded to be let go but since he'd just got out the infirmary this morning, he simply gritted his teeth, and waited to be put down before he stepped away from the ledge with a shake of his head. "Very funny," he croaked the words out then cleared his throat. Being trapped in that damned machine had fucked him up somewhat but since he'd already stayed in bed all day, he figured some fresh air would do him good.

"Hey baby?" John forced that signature smirk of his out. "Been drinking your profits, Guthrie?"

"Nope, Ah reckon Ah havn't," Jay replied in a cheery voice. "Just got off early." Flapping his wings once, he shook out any feathers that weren't aligned and adjusted his wings to fold in, only to repeat it and let them settle comfortably close to his body. The whole processed seemed ridiculous after he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, only to repeat his actions a third time. He paused in the moonlight reflecting on John and cast him a side long glance. "Yer lookin' a lil' green - may be tha light - ya feelin' al'ight?

John ignored the question and chose to focus instead on suddenly shirtless Jay. "Does it annoy you?" He was looking at Jay's wings. He couldn't imagine sleeping with that on his back. He'd be tossing and turning all night.

"Ah'm use ta 'em now," he brushed his thumb over his nose and sniffed, shrugging. His eyes lifted from the ground, tossing the shirt over his shoulder, looking at John through the bangs that hung in his face. Light reflected off his feathers and self consciously pulled his wings closer to his body without realizing it. "Does blowin' smoke outta yer ass annoy you?" he grinned and turned his back on John. Shoving his hands in his jean pockets and overlooked the yard.

"What?" John stuffed his hand into his jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his good ol' lighter. Angelo had found it this morning in the rec room. He owed the dude. "So what's been up with you? Haven't seen you in a while."

"Nuttin' much," he said, inclining his head and brushing a finger over his nose again. It was really bothering him."Workin', broke up wit Kev, workin' somemore.Writtin' an' playin' music til' mah fingers bleed. You?" he glanced briefly over his shoulder, watching John light up before turning back to the yard.

He raised an eyebrow at hearing the mention of a breakup. "You guys broke up?" He inhaled the smoke into his lungs and glanced over at Jay. "Why? Were you being too clingy?" It was what he'd teased Jay about when they'd first met in Canada.

"Actually, yeah," he admitted, surprising himself and he turned around, leveling with John's gaze. "Didn' like a whole lot 'bout the relationship, yanno?" He shrugged. There was no regret in his voice. "Should write a song 'bout it but everytime Ah do, Ah come up short." Sure, he missed Kevin and being around him but there was a sense of freedom from shedding a relationship that felt like vice grip on his shoulders - even if he had been the cause of it. "Maybe it's a sign." The corner of his mouth tugged up in a lopsided easy going smile and he kicked at some unseen stone.

John winced at hearing that. Ouch. "Sorry to hear that, man." He tapped his cigarette, dropping the ashes to the ground. He didn't know how long the two had been together for but breaking up was a shitty thing to go through. Part of the reason why he hadn't bothered to date anyone. It was too much of a hassle. Too much of feelings and crap that he didn't think he could deal with. He inhaled and exhaled. "What do you mean by, maybe it's a sign?"

"Ah ain't as upset 'bout it like Ah thought Ah would be. Maybe it meant that Ah shouldn't have been in it in tha first place, huh? Since Kev, Ah stopped playin' music. So it says somethin' tha' Ah'm playin' right now but Ah can't write a song 'bout 'im. Maybe he's some sorta block fer me. Yanno?"

He nodded. "Yeah, guess that does make sense." John sat down and rested his forearm on his knee. "How's Kevin taking it though? You guys still friends?"

"Tried talkin to 'im," Jay said, crossing the distance between them and sitting down next to John. "He don't wanna talk or have anythin' to do with me. Other day, Ah was just jokin' round with 'im an' tripped 'im. He was pissed off like a bull that saw red. Pinned me to tha wall with his forearm. Ah reckon Ah shouldn't be pushin' mah luck there. Never seen 'im so mad. Went from lovin to hatin' in less than a week. Ya ever know anyone ta do tha'? Guess it ain't in tha stars ta be friends."

John flicked his cigarette away and licked at his lips. "Me and Angelo were sort of fucking around a few years ago. It was nothing but we just kind of stopped talking after a while. It was weird. I mean, we'd acknowledge each other and shit but it was just... real fucking weird," he said. "And when I moved back to Xavier's, it was kind of awkward between us at first but now we're cool." He had no idea why he was telling Jay about his past with Angelo but he'd blame his meds for the sudden word vomit if he had to. "So you know, just give it time."

Jay was quiet for a long time, letting the silent breeze fill the space between them. He could hear the distant howls of some teenagers or young adults, probably drunk or just out for a walk, disrupting the night. Funny how their voices carried like that, so far, or what he thought to be far and he reflected on how lyrical they sounded. Resting his hands on the edge, either side of him, he dug the heel of his converse down.

"Yanno, tha's the most ya said ta me since we met," he smiled behind his bangs and blew them out of his face. "You an' Angelo huh?" he shook his head, unbelieving. "Bugger didn' say a word 'bout that. Fooled me too. Ah must be broke or somethin'. Can't tell a gay man from straight one. How's it gonna be if Ah can't pick 'em out in a crowd - I'll tell ya how - Ah'm gonna have a whole lotta more people hatin' on me than Kev. Hittin' on straighties don't win ya friends."

"Yeah, well, don't be too hard on yourself. People can be pretty fucking hard to read." Plus, Angelo was dating Amanda. No one would ever think the guy was anything but straight. "And about that whole Angelo thing, don't ever bring that shit up to anyone," he warned Jay. "Alright?"

"Ya worried someone might find out there's more ta ya than ya makin' out?" He nudged John's shoulder with a wing. "Just don't bring up Kev all the time an' Ah won't say a damn thing. Ah'm pretty sick o' talkin' 'bout it. So why ya asking 'bout mah wings? Shoppin' 'round for a pair?" he joked.

"Fair enough." They could definitely use a change of subject. John turned and looked at Jay. He poked a finger against his wing. "Ha! It's just like a bird's." Some part of him was aware that he'd just made an obvious fucking statement but he couldn't help himself. It was the meds. Medication was a bad thing. Drugs was a big no no. "It's actually quite cool." He sucked on his cigarette and offered it to Jay.

Jay shoved John back with the wing he poked and pulled it back. He took the cigarette and brought it to his lips. "Yeh, but the rest o' me's all man," he grinned. Inhaling too deeply, Jay turned his head and sputtered a cough. Disgusted, he hunched over and laughed. "Why the hell do ya smoke again?" he asked, clearing his throat. His lungs burned and he blinked back the glisten in his eyes, but he tried again and did it a little more gracefully the second time, but not by much. He coughed again and handed the cigarette back to John, giving him a once over.

John sniggered; quite impressed that Jay had tried to smoke it at least. The last time he'd offered him a cigarette, Jay had given him a look of disgust. "You'll get used to it." He took hold of the cig and took in a sharp inhale before exhaling the smoke off to the side. "Maybe."

"Or maybe Ah'll just stick to music an' bartendin'," he cleared his throat, and tried again, sort of wishing he hadn't done that, but felt a weird sensation which he figured was his healing compensating for his stupidity. He wondered if he smoked, how well his body would accept it. Probably wouldn't. "Doin' anythin' tonight?"

It was after ten and he'd already had his dinner. John shook his head. "I was gonna take a walk before going to bed but you kinda ruined that for me, Guthrie."

"You could just go back downstairs an' start that walk over or Ah could fly ya down." Jay stood up and stretched his wings out fully. It was something he couldn't do in the hallways so he always did it right before he went inside. "Well?"

He stared at Jay's massive wings and shook his head. "No." John had a fear of heights but there was no way he'd admit to that. "I think a walk would do me good." He'd been stuck in bed for most of the day. Earlier that afternoon, he'd stubbornly insisted that he was fine and had gone to the office to work but after puking out what little breakfast he'd had with Angelo, he was sent back to his room. John dropped his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. "Come on."