Kevin & Jean-Paul | Friday evening

[x-wither.livejournal.com]

A few hours after Kevin's letter is dropped off Jean-Paul goes looking for him and finds him in the metal shop working.

Warning for explicit groping.

The things I thought I said were offending you, The things you did were offending me, The things you thought were offending you, The things I did were offending me... The music carried through the door of the metal workshop loudly enough to be perfectly understood in the garage. It had been a meticulous testing process that had once upon a time given Kevin the upper limit on volume so he could drown in the beat of the music while he worked without it leaking too far into the mansion. The garage was walled in well enough that the music didn't get very far beyond it's door to the main house.

Kevin was in nothing but a tee shirt from the waist up while he worked. The rhythm of hammer meeting metal was asynchronous to the Icon of Coil song even though the artist's head moved in time with the beat. He was, perhaps, happiest here alone with his music and metal working on something that would eventually be whole and complete, something beautiful.

Jean-Paul didn't precisely know where he was going to wind up when he went looking for Kevin. He didn't know where the younger man went when he wasn't cooking or eating or practising his powers. So he checked the common areas first, then Kevin's suite, which he wasn't in. From there, it was rather hit or miss. The last place he went was, of course, where he found the man he sought.

The garage itself had no negative memories or connotations for Jean-Paul, beyond those he regularly associated with cars, but the music was very loud. He leaned in the doorway, Kevin's letter folded and tucked into the back pocket of Jean-Paul's jeans, his shoulder braced against the door frame, and watched.

Time passed and Kevin kept working. He was utterly focused on shaping the metal how he wanted it. He'd imported the anvil into the metal shop but he was hoping to move it back outside once the weather was better more reliably. He missed working outside like he had when he was at the West Coast Annex. It wasn't until he set down the hammer and picked up the metal to inspect the shape it was taking on that he saw his apparent audience. Catching a glimpse of the lounging figure out of the corner of his eye, Kevin jumped. He jumped, dropped the sheet of metal on his toe and went hopping on one foot over to the stereo. A glove was laid atop it and he grabbed the glove so he could turn the volume down without ever putting it on.

"Uh, hi," Kevin finally said a bit awkwardly while he rubbed his foot against the back of his other leg. That hurt. At least it wasn't the corner. "Um...wasn't really expecting company."

"I read the letter," Jean-Paul said, following Kevin's progress across the room with one brow arched. "I would like to answer your question now - it seemed like something I should say in person, rather than on paper."

"Oh." Kevin was pretty sure he went a little pale there. Maybe he was imagining it but it would have gone really well with that sinking feeling in his stomach. He hadn't actually admitted that stuff to most people. Only a handful of people who were still around, namely Yvette and Laurie, had ever known about the addiction. He only ever spoke about the continuing effort to not get hooked all over again with his therapist. But he'd laid it all out in that letter. It was so much easier to write stuff like that and drop it off and not have to face the person you were saying it to. Only now Jean-Paul was right there leaning against the doorframe and Kevin was the one who wouldn't be able to escape. The workshop only had one exit.

Pushing off from the door, Jean-Paul walked into the shop, though he made sure to give Kevin enough room for whatever he might want or need to do. The younger man was looking very pale all of a sudden. "I have been running from things my whole life, I told you as much." He didn't think either of them had really believe the 'story' he was supposedly telling the younger man. "But this... I do not know why. But I do not want to run from you. So the answer to your question is this: yes. I am sure I do not want to run. A man is made a monster by his choices, his actions. Not his potential."

Impulse wanted to ask Jean-Paul why. Why did he want to stay? Why wouldn't he do what was smart? The words would have already been out of Kevin's mouth if the other man hadn't just told him he didn't know why. Since he couldn't ask why he asked, "You're sure? Ah mean, you really thought about it kinda sure?" He didn't want Jean-Paul to run, but he couldn't help making sure the man had given the answer he really meant.

"Oui. I am very sure," Jean-Paul said, having thought about it a great deal. His answer didn't change, no matter what angle he approached the question from. He'd been over possible consequences, probable chains of events, the many places those could end up. He'd considered it all as thoroughly as he could with the information he was given and then he'd asked himself that question. Over and over again, he'd tried to find a reason to run. He'd sought a flaw in his own logic, in his reasoning, but nothing flagged for him.

Whatever the limitations and the dangers, he was tired of running.

Jean-Paul had as good as given his word.

Kevin didn't understand why, but did he need to? Was he even sure there was a why to be had? Could he explain why he wanted Jean-Paul any better than the other man could explain why he wanted to stay? No, he couldn't. But could he trust himself? He hadn't been very close to very many people for very long since the addiction. When he'd been with Jay they'd slept together every night. Jay had sought Kevin out much of the time to be together. A relationship by nature involved time spent in proximity and he was the one who had started it. But could he handle it?

The younger man let his eyes fall mostly shut and took in a few deep breaths to beat down the panic he could feel wanting to raise up and choke him. Logically, he knew nights would not be spent together because of Jean-Paul's nightmares and the concussive blasts they brought with them. That took a lot of the potential danger away. Kevin could handle things as long as he was awake. He could control himself. The only reason he'd ever come so close to hurting Jay was Jay's own damned fault.

Without opening his eyes he asked, "And you promise if Ah tell you that you need to go you'll go? You won't stay and fight me on it?"

Jean-Paul thought about that - thought about it hard. "Oui, I will promise you that. So long as it is... not simply a way to be rid of me when you tire of my company."

That opened Kevin's eyes and earned the Quebecois a rather quizzical expression. "Ah'm not gonna tell you to go 'less Ah think Ah'm gonna hurt you." He couldn't comprehend why he would just get tired of Jean-Paul and tell him to go. Kevin didn't usually get tired of people much unless they were really aggravating.

"Then I promise I will leave, if you ask me," Jean-Paul said. It was as simple as that for him.

"Thank you." There was true gratitude on Kevin's face. He needed to be able to trust Jean-Paul to keep himself safe from Kevin just as much as he needed to be able to trust himself to keep the other man safe. The promise allowed a noticeable amount of tension to release from Kevin's shoulders which now slouched.

"You are welcome," Jean-Paul said, one corner of his mouth turning upward. He wasn't sure what else he should say, now that the important parts had been said. There was a chair in the far corner, though, and so he moved toward it, settling in as the music continued to play. He wanted nothing more than to watch Kevin work for now.

"You're staying?" He hadn't expected that but Jean-Paul seemed to be getting comfortable in the papasan chair in the corner. It was the only thing in the place that wasn't all metal and machinery, mostly because every once in a while Kevin came here to hide and sketch or read for homework. It was draped in cloth that was Kevin-proof.

"Oui," Jean-Paul said, pulling the letter from his back pocket so he could tuck it into one inside his jacket. Raising his eyes, he quirked a rueful smile. "If you do not mind, of course."

"Oh, no, Ah don't mind." The half-smile that quirked onto Kevin's lips was the sort people wore when they were unexpectedly caught doing something. In Kevin's case it was likely that he was feeling caught in what he'd thought was a useless hope that Jean-Paul would stay. "Ah just didn't figure you would. You're gonna get bored."

"I am not so sure," Jean-Paul said, eyebrow quirking rather suggestively. "This is more of you than I have seen since India and I like the view."

Kevin smirked and the expression was utterly cocky. He drew closer to the seated man but moved to pick up the fallen sheet metal rather than go to Jean-Paul. Once the metal was back on top of the anvil the Southerner turned to regard his official-maybe-dating-thing partner. "Y'know views are only good for so long. Then people wanna get all...interactive."

"I can be very patient," Jean-Paul murmured, not quite smiling now. "I am very good at biding my time, you see." Most of the time, anyway. There were a few times when he was not, but overall, he felt he was up to the task at hand.

Tilting his head to the side a little, Kevin regarded the older man for a moment. "Well, if it's the view you're in for," he said and then shrugged. Then he walked back to the stereo to turn the music back up, though not nearly as loud as it had been when Jean-Paul had arrived. His t-shirt and the tank beneath it were left on top of the stereo when he went back to the anvil to pick up where he'd left off.

Jean-Paul's eyes narrowed just the smallest bit as Kevin's clothing came off, but he kept his seat and watched the play of muscle beneath skin. That was quite the view. Pulling his feet off the floor, he then shrugged out of his jacket and laid it aside, crossing his legs in the chair as he watched the sheen of sweat develop on Kevin's skin.

While he worked Kevin was acutely aware of Jean-Paul's presence. Despite that he didn't acknowledge the man much. If Jean-Paul simply wanted to sit and watch then Kevin would work. Each beat of the hammer echoed through the workshop without the music loud enough to mostly swallow the sound. Kevin let the music run through him and it was that more than anything that dictated the shape of the metal as he hammered it over a rounded edge of the anvil.

He lasted half an hour, eyes never leaving Kevin as the younger man worked, growing harder as he traced the path a single bead of sweat took from the Southerner's shoulder blade to the waistband of his trousers. And then Jean-Paul decided that, if he was going to be sitting there, he might as well be doing something at least vaguely constructive.

Taking the long way around the younger man, he moved to the stereo and took Kevin's shirts, then headed back to the chair. He considered moving quickly, faster than the Southerner might be able to see, but decided against it. It was all, he decided, about being seen - for the moment.

Barely catching movement from the corner of his eye, Kevin let the movement of the hammer pause. He looked up in time to see his shirts snatched up by the other man as if it were totally normal. And then he retreated back to the chair. What? "Are you takin' up squirrel habits and hoardin' for winter even though we just left winter?"

"Not at all," Jean-Paul replied, seating himself once more and then folding the shirts. He didn't even look at them while he did that, though, eyes on Kevin as he quirked a brow. Kevin would have to come get them if he wanted them back.

Head tilting a bit to the side, Kevin watched him silently before asking, "Practicing to be housewife of the year?"

"If I said 'yes,' would that pull you from your hammering?"

"Is gettin' me to stop your only motive in the first place?"

"Maybe," Jean-Paul said, smiling just a little. "And maybe getting you to come over here is my motive."

Kevin pointed a finger at him but didn't move yet. "You said you were patient and implied you wouldn't get bored. Somethin' 'bout the view?"

"I am... far from bored," Jean-Paul replied. "Very far from it. I am... actively engaged in an effort to bring the view closer to me. Which means that I find it... most enjoyable, oui?"

The Southerner leaned back against the anvil, bare hands curled around the top edge of it. Kevin looked like he was lounging and going nowhere any time soon. That cocky smirk was back on his face. "Can't see a forest for the trees. If you wanted to keep enjoyin' the view you wouldn't be trying to get it closer."

"Maybe I want to enjoy the view's... details." Setting the shirts aside, Jean-Paul shifted backward in the chair, tipping his head to the side. "Very small details."

"There aren't any scars," Kevin told him as he began to very slowly walk over to Jean-Paul and the chair.

"Scars are not the only details," Jean-Paul said, watching Kevin's slow approach. "Freckles... birthmarks. Other things." He was not being particularly articulate, but the younger man was getting closer and so that seemed less important than it might have otherwise.

"No freckles either." He did have a beauty mark on the back of one of his shoulders. There might have been others there, too. Kevin didn't really look at his back, who did? He stopped his movements about a foot out of reach of Jean-Paul and simply raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"May I see?" Quirking one finger, Jean-Paul beckoned Kevin closer still.

"Can't see from there?" There was a playful, teasing note in Kevin's voice. "Old age gettin' to the eyes?" He only shuffled a half-step closer.

Leaning forward, making sure to keep his movements very slow and very visible, Jean-Paul reached out and snagged the fabric near the middle of Kevin's thigh, tugging him closer still. "Old age? Maybe. Maybe not."

Allowing himself to be tugged resulted in Kevin's legs pressing against the bottom edge of the papasan chair's bowl to either side of Jean-Paul's legs. "Well, old age is all Ah got for your bad sight. We should take you to the doc," he said in a faux serious tone. "Get you a pair of glasses so you don't need everyone so close just to see 'em."

"Just you," Jean-Paul said. "You are the only person I need close enough to see." He quirked another smile, fingertips teasing upward along the outside of Kevin's thigh.

"That's some selective vision requirements." Kevin's gaze kept shifting between Jean-Paul's face and the hand moving up his leg. The fingertips weren't near anywhere potentially dangerous but they got closer with every passing moment.

Jean-Paul's fingers stopped near the seam midway past the pocket on Kevin's trousers. "Want might be a better word, then? You are the only person I want to see in such detail." And then he slid his palm downward, letting his fingers hook briefly behind Kevin's knee.

Just that small touch behind his knee caused it to bend the least bit. "Least Ah know you're not gonna be tellin' everyone to get close enough to kiss just so you can see what color their eyes are, then."

"Mm... non," Jean-Paul said, noting the bend of Kevin's knee. He curled his fingers just a little more, making sure he didn't ruin the younger man's balance and then slowly, carefully encouraged Kevin to slide his knee onto the chair beside Jean-Paul's thigh. "That... that, I will not do."

Kevin let the knee bend. He let it raise up over the lip of the chair's edge and move up against the other man's thigh so far as it could with his other foot still on the ground. He could see where this was going to get him but he'd let Jean-Paul move him. "Not interested in anyone else being kissin' distance?"

"Non," Jean-Paul said, voice quiet. "Non, aime, I am not interested in anyone else." He moved his other hand, just as careful when he reached for Kevin's other leg as he'd been with the first. If he wasn't careful, he was going to start speaking all in French and that wouldn't get him anywhere. At least not anywhere coherent.

"There was someone once," Kevin told him as his weight shifted left so his right knee could come up and mirror the left, "who didn't want to be monogamous with me. Said he wasn't no good in relationships. But he didn't want me kissin' anyone else. Said he wanted my lips to just be his." He stopped talking while his hands found safe places to hold onto the chair's frame to either side of Jean-Paul's head. Kevin settled quite comfortably straddling Jean-Paul's lap. This was not usually his position in this sort of dynamic, but he didn't really mind the switch either.

"This person," Jean-Paul said. "He was... not very smart, I think." He considered that, then raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, maybe not wanting to share you was not such a bad thing, but I think he did not go about it very well." Still taking the utmost care, Jean-Paul let his hands come to rest very near the younger man's pockets before sliding them slightly down and around. He left them there for a moment, contemplating his options, before pulling them downward - more contact, he felt, was better. "I will go about it better."

An eyebrow raised at the placement of Jean-Paul's hands, but it only went up higher when they left Kevin's butt. Somehow he hadn't thought the other man was going to find somewhere he liked better for his hands than there. Especially not when it turned out they were going to Kevin's thighs. "How're you plannin' to go 'bout it, then?"

"Monogamy, of course," Jean-Paul said, letting his hands explore the younger man as much as he was able given the younger man's lack of clothing. He considered Kevin again, tipping his head back as he brought his thumbs around to the front of the Southerner's knees, then dipped them inward to the inside of his thighs. Inch by slow inch, he began sliding them upward. "If I want you to kiss no one else, then I will kiss no one else. It is... only fair."

Good answer. Kevin was, however, slightly distracted from that thought with the movement of Jean-Paul's hands. They had what seemed like an obvious trajectory and that made Kevin ask his next question. "Your version of monogamy involve you not doin' anything else with other people?" After Jay and that arrangement he had to ask. Particularly since Kevin was currently being very loudly reminded of how entirely physical the two of them were despite Kevin's mutation. It had led to problems with Jay.

"Non, aime," Jean-Paul murmured, hands pausing. "Why would I want to do things with anyone else?" He was genuinely curious as to the answer, but before Kevin could give it to him, he let his thumbs wander higher, finding the younger man through the thin fabric of his trousers. He wanted to see what reaction he would get as he allowed his hand to wander.

There was a sharp intake of breath upon contact. That could potentially end up being something that felt really good. Kevin had vibrant memories of that night up on the flight deck. It wasn't exactly very long ago either. He had to clear his throat a little to help him refocus on the conversation rather than what those thumbs promised could be possible. "'Cause some people are that way," he answered in a very quiet voice. "Some people and restrictions don't...get along. Some people...just ain't no good at only bein' with one person."

"There... are many different ways," Jean-Paul said, "That I can cause you to make that sound. That inhale, the... catch, at the back of your throat." His thumbs continued their movement as his eyes caught Kevin's. "I do not mind restrictions, so long as I am able to explore all those different ways, so long as I can make you smile." He almost let his eyes drop, but he wouldn't let himself break even that contact as he said, "So long as you do not grow... bored of me."

Thinking would have been awesome. Thinking would have been really, really useful except he kept doing things with the thumbs and it was starting to hit that 'really good' point which made thinking a slow, muddy process. If he could have Kevin would have reached down to stop the movement of Jean-Paul's hands, but Kevin had no gloves. His hands gripped the edge of the chair tight enough that it made the muscles in his forearms contract. "Why...why would Ah...get bored of you?" It was about the only coherent thought he could put together after that quiet, nonchalant promise that Jean-Paul could cause Kevin to make noises a number of ways.

"I am old, as you say," Jean-Paul murmured. "I am old and there is no telling what might happen later." Youth was a fickle thing - being with Jake, who was not even so much younger than himself, had taught him that. Shifting his hands so that he was palming Kevin's length, Jean-Paul hummed low in his throat, leaving words behind as he sought to pull more quiet noises from Kevin.

Kevin really wished Jean-Paul wouldn't make statements like that and then do things like that so he couldn't form a vaguely decent thought. Time slowed or stopped or maybe sped up but Kevin knew it felt like an eternity of biting back the moan that wanted to escape. It felt like the hardest thing he'd had to do in ages. Which is why he slid himself backward, perching nearly on Jean-Paul's knees so he could get away from that hand and think. He knew he needed to think, he just couldn't remember why.

An arm fell across Kevin's lap in an attempt to keep Jean-Paul from distracting him. The haze began to lift from his mind with the broken contact and it let him process what the Quebecois had just been saying. It made him process why it was important to him, important enough to stop something that felt really good so he could put together something to say. "Ah'm not gonna get bored 'cause you've been alive longer'n me," he finally managed after clearing his throat. "People aren't things you get bored with. Games or books or movies you get bored by but not people. Why d'you think Ah'm gonna get bored of you 'cause you're older'n me?" He didn't qualify Jean-Paul as old so he was careful to specify that he was older in comparison only.

Because it has happened before. Jean-Paul didn't say that. "It is a possibility." He said the words, but they weren't what he meant. Hands settling at Kevin's knees to make sure he didn't take a tumble backward, Jean-Paul shook his head. "You had your relationship that did not end well. I have had mine, also. They taught us different lessons, I think. But we both learned them well."

"Ah think if the lesson you learned is that people get sick of you then your lesson was wrong." It was easy to say that, Kevin knew, when it had been so little time. But he also knew what kind of person he was. He knew what kind of person other people could be sometimes. If Jay wanted to make Kevin his pet while having sex with someone else, well, it wasn't that far off from someone getting sick of you was it? But the lesson Kevin had learnt hadn't been that he wasn't worthy of being with someone. The lesson he had learned was to be a whole lot more cautious about jumping in. Because sometimes people seriously sucked and tried to make you feel like it was your fault instead.

"It has been a repetitive lesson, Kevin," Jean-Paul said softly. "Very... repetitive."

"Twenty people all tell you two plus two equals eight and you assume they're right?"

"I have never been very good at math."

"Ah'll draw you a picture so you can figure out they're wrong," Kevin told him quietly and then leaned forward until he could catch Jean-Paul's lips in a careful kiss. "You don't need to believe me," he whispered, "but Ah'm not goin' nowhere. And it don't matter how old you are. 'Bored' ain't really a concept Ah get when it comes to people. Ah just want you to stay, so it's only fair if Ah do too, right?"

"Oui," Jean-Paul murmured, his lips quirking into a very small smile. "It is... only fair. As you say."

A corner of Kevin's mouth pulled upward into a small smile as well and he slid in closer to Jean-Paul again. He was careful of contact between, keeping his own bare skin away from the other man's shirt until he looked at it properly. Eyebrows furrowing, Kevin poked at the older man's shoulder. Nothing. Poke. Shirt still intact. A questioning eyebrow was turned toward the other man. "This ain't the same one from the plane." It wasn't a question.

"It would be foolish to have only the one," Jean-Paul said. "I do not want to have to wear the same thing every day."

"Every day?" That eyebrow was only getting higher. "How much of your wardrobe is Kevin-proof?"

Trying valiantly to suppress the smirk that kept trying to spread across his lips, Jean-Paul arched an eyebrow right back at the younger man. "A large portion of it. I am not foolish, you see. Not about important things."

"But it's not an important thing." It was an important thing to Kevin, but clothes weren't really important in the grand scheme of things. Public nudity aside, having clothing Kevin could touch without gloves - or a shirt - on wasn't necessary and if it wasn't necessary then it wasn't that important, right?

"It is," Jean-Paul said. "I want to touch you, you see. And I think it fair that you should be able to touch me as well, if you would like. This... what we are doing, it is not a burden you must bear by yourself. I will shoulder my share. We are together, oui? This is what people do."

Why was it when he said that it sounded like he meant it, like he really believed that even though it was Kevin's mutation it was his responsibility to be, well, responsible as well? And why did Kevin believe him? Probably because he sounded like he meant it. And probably because he'd done this thing without making a point about it. He hadn't done it for brownie points. He hadn't wanted to be told how amazing he was for doing it. He'd just done it and let Kevin figure it out on his own. He hadn't even taken the shortcut about it all.

So Kevin kissed him again.

"It's a good thing you don't like makin' the easy choices," Kevin said when their lips parted. "Y'know, since Ah'm not one and you're not gettin' rid of me and all."

"I do not mind that," Jean-Paul said. Then, fingertips teasing at the inside of Kevin's thigh, he murmured, "May I return to trying to get you to make those noises, aime?"

Kevin smirked. "Long as you're not gonna go and say stupid things so Ah gotta interrupt you so Ah can think and tell you you're wrong."

"Occupy my mouth and I will say nothing more," Jean-Paul murmured, sliding his hands back to their former positions.

"Ah can do that," Kevin muttered a moment before his mouth closed over the other man's again. He just really hoped Jean-Paul had an amazing attention span because Kevin had to trust that they could manage to keep the kiss, not matter how heated it would get, from hurting anyone. He had faith, though.