Jean-Paul & Kevin | Monday afternoon

[x-wither.livejournal.com]

Kevin shows up as requested and gets a gift that drops his jaw.

Jean-Paul propped his hip up against the counter in the kitchen and ate another carrot as he looked over at the sculpture sitting on the dining room table. It had arrived on Saturday, finally available after the artist's showing ended, and he still felt like he'd made the right choice in buying it, though it hadn't been his first choice. Closing the bag of carrots, he put them back in the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. It was nearing 3pm and Kevin would be there soon, so he went back out into the living room.

The apartment looked more lived in now than it had before, though not by much. It showed mostly in the few personal items scattered about - the blanket on the back of the couch, the books lining the shelves, the DVDs of documentaries stacked near the television. It wasn't home yet, but it would get there soon.

Not having much of a schedule to keep meant that when Kevin got random text messages requesting his presence an hour from where he lived it was easy to meet that request. He had no idea why Jean-Paul had wanted him to come by, but it gave him something to do so the reason behind it didn't matter too much. Unless he was suddenly turning into a raging jealous thing. If that was the case he would be ducking and running as quickly as possibly. Luckily, though, that was also unlikely. Kevin rang the bell down on the sidewalk and reminded himself he would not need an exit strategy. Because Jean-Paul may be crazy but he wasn't that sort of crazy.

Leaning out the window so he could look down, Jean-Paul made sure it was Kevin, then closed the window and buzzed the younger man up. He checked to make sure the door was unlocked, then opened the water he'd gotten from the refrigerator and drank a good portion of it quickly. Art and giving gifts weren't really his thing, but he wasn't nervous - no, definitely not nervous.

Kevin took the stairs rather than the elevator. Jean-Paul didn't exactly live in a twenty floor building and elevators were small spaces that sometimes filled with lots of people so Kevin had taken to avoiding them in general whenever he could. Once at Jean-Paul's door Kevin knocked a single time and then tried the door. It was unlocked so in he went. "Hey, Jean-Paul?" His eyes went searching around until he found the Quebecois. "One freeze dried Southerner, delivered to your door. Delivery's gonna cost you though," he told the older man with a smile while he shut the door behind him.

Jean-Paul smiled. "Oui? And what is it costing me?" He put the mostly empty bottle of water on the coffee table near the couch and walked toward Kevin, brow quirked just a bit. "These hidden fees. Always popping up when I do not expect them." He obviously didn't mind.

Smirking, Kevin took long, casual steps toward Jean-Paul. He said nothing until they were close enough that he could hook a finger through one of Jean-Paul's belt loops and use it to pull the other man closer. "S'costin' a lot. Ain't gonna be able to come up for air for at least a good forty-five." Then he kissed the Quebecois. A lot of things had changed, but them in private hadn't. And Kevin still had the urge to kiss the man when he saw him. It was possible that urge was stronger now that he saw Jean-Paul less often.

The nervous fluttering that had begun bothering Jean-Paul once he realized Kevin's arrival was imminent dissipated and he just sort of smiled as he kissed Kevin back. He settled one hand at Kevin's waist and the other on the Southerner's shoulder, stepping in just a little closer. It was soothing, the knowledge that these things hadn't changed.

This was so familiar that it was almost comforting. Kevin's arm slid around Jean-Paul's waist and pulled him in closer until their bodies met at the hips. The kiss wasn't rushed. It took its own time and Kevin was happy to simply ride along. The kiss, it seemed, had a mind all its own. By the time their lips parted Kevin was smiling. "Bonjour," he whispered, amused at himself.

"Bonjour," Jean-Paul murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners. He stole another, small kiss and then tipped his head in the kitchen's direction. "I have something for you, if you would like?"

Kevin barely glanced over Jean-Paul's shoulder toward the kitchen. "Somethin' for me?" His head cocked to the side, slight confusion and curiosity mingling on his face. "Ah get somethin' other than just you? What, is it my birthday?"

"Non," Jean-Paul said, brows rising a little. "Your birthday is in July. It is far too cold to be July just now." And he wasn't saying it was a Valentine's Day gift, because he wasn't sure they were doing that kind of thing. No, it was just a gift. That was all. He stole another kiss, then said, "Do you want to see it?"

"Y'never know. Weather's been weird. The months coulda moved 'round, too. It coulda turned into July without anyone tellin' me." He was rambling, of course, because that's what Kevin did half the times these days it seemed. "Is it a pony?" Kevin grinned, then stole another kiss. It was weird for him to get gifts. He just wasn't really used to it. Sure, he bestowed art gifts on people at random or for birthdays, but it just seemed strange to be the recipient. And, honestly, he was pretty damn content right where he was.

Laughing, Jean-Paul shook his head. "It is not so big. Or so difficult to care for." The Quebecois took a step backward, tugging Kevin with him as he moved. "I am not even sure you will remember."

Now Kevin was really confused. Why wouldn't he remember? He trailed along as Jean-Paul tugged him further into the apartment and asked, "'Cause Ah was totally unconscious when somethin' involving a gift happened?"

"Because you were very... medicated," Jean-Paul said, smile widening into a grin. He stopped backing up when the small of his back met the kitchen counter and then he nodded toward the table. "But I thought you might like it now, anyway."

The mention of him being medicated made Kevin cringe a little. "Please tell me it's not a box of tongue depressors." But then Kevin's eyes moved over to the table and what he found there certainly wasn't a box of tongue depressors. His arm fell from around Jean-Paul's waist in time with his jaw dropping.

The sculpture was nearly three feet tall in some spots but closer to two feet tall for most of it. It was intricate stonework and Kevin remembered exactly where he had seen something similar. It was hazy and he didn't remember the trip to the gallery until now. It had been after an appointment with Dr. St Lawrence at the burn clinic. This wasn't the same thing, but it was close. The artists had taken the idea of Escher's Relativity and warped it into swirling spiral staircases and swooping ramps complete with tiny stone people traversing the walkways without any seeming care for gravity. "That-Ah mean....<>That's..." Kevin was clearly at a loss for words and simply looked back to Jean-Paul with an awe-struck expression.

"It is not the one you liked so well, but... I thought it was nice." Jean-Paul just wasn't used to giving gifts like this. A basket and balloons was one thing. The singing telegram he'd sent Vanessa was something else, but not at all like this. "And so... oui." He was watching Kevin's expression closely, fairly certain now that he didn't need to worry about the sculpture disappointing, at least.

Surprise still all over his face, Kevin looked between Jean-Paul and the sculpture then back again. Then his hands moved up to cradle the older man's face and Kevin kissed him, conveying exactly what he thought of that sculpture and the fact that Jean-Paul had actually gotten it for him. That sculpture was amazing and huge and Kevin knew exactly how much it must have cost. And yet Jean-Paul had gotten it for him after he had more of less fallen in love with a similar piece by the same artist while out of his mind on pain meds. That should have won Jean-Paul a Best Boyfriend Ever award considering they had still been together at the time.

Kevin was a little breathless when the kiss broke. He had no idea what to say, honestly. So he whispered, "Thank you," from within a few inches of the other man.

Jean-Paul didn't really feel that thanks were necessary, but he murmured, "You are welcome," all the same. He leaned in to kiss Kevin again. "I am glad you like it."

"Ah've got, like, spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-it love for it, actually," Kevin told him with a small smile. From the ear-to-ear grin on Jean-Paul's face Kevin figured the Quebecois was pretty darn proud of himself. He had every right to be, he'd managed to give Kevin the only sort of gift that he would ever truly adore: art. And he had found an absolutely awe-inspiring piece to give him at that.

A finger hooked back into Jean-Paul's belt loop and Kevin tugged the older man over to the table with him so he could appreciate the beauty and artistry of this up close. He didn't even want to touch it because it was so beautiful. It should have been in a gallery or a museum, but it was going to be in his suite instead. Wow.

Stepping around until he was standing behind Kevin, Jean-Paul rested his chin on the younger man's shoulder and looked at the sculpture, exceedingly pleased with the reaction he'd gotten. That made it worth every single penny he'd spent. The sunlight coming through the window hit it just right, highlighting the ins and outs of the stairways and making the people cast shadows.

Gloved fingers ghosted over the lines of the ramps and stairwells and buildings, but they never made contact. What made the sculpture so impressive was that it hadn't been just carved as a relief or emerged from a wall. You could see straight through it from all sides and see the intricacies and details of the stairs and the windows and the people. Kevin had no idea how the artist had done it. "Seriously, this is...beautiful," Kevin whispered in that awe-struck tone again.

"Oui," Jean-Paul agreed. "I was glad the artist was willing to sell it. She was very nice. The other piece you liked so much, it was taken by a different gallery. She gave me the name of the place, if you would like to go there sometime."

"Sure, that'd be cool," Kevin replied, obviously distracted. He had leaned down until he had to fold his arm atop the table and set his chin on top of it while he continued to trace lines and figures and marvel. He could be at this for hours if someone didn't pull him away.

Jean-Paul blinked when Kevin leaned down and then cleared his throat as he stepped back and tried to figure out what to do with himself while the younger man enjoyed the artwork. Food - food was the answer to so many questions in life. It had to be the answer to this now. Going to the refrigerator, he considered the marinating chicken in there for a moment, then asked, "Do you have plans for the evening?"

"Do Ah ever have plans?" Kevin asked without moving from his spot. "Okay, so once in a while Ah do. But nah, Ah've got none for the rest of the day. How come?" Just his eyes moved to look over to Jean-Paul, who was apparently rummaging around in the fridge.

"I thought I could make dinner later, if you would like." The chicken wouldn't take very long to cook once he got it under the broiler and the recipe was exceedingly simple, which meant there was very little chance he'd mess it up. That was good. "It would be chicken, though not your type of chicken."

"Ah'm game as long as it's good chicken." Kevin finally bent his knees more and crouched down next to the table to further examine his new sculpture. He half hopped around the perimeter of the table so he could look at it from another angle. "There gonna be anythin' with the chicken or is is all chicken all the time 'round here?"

"A salad, I thought," Jean-Paul replied, pulling the chicken out. The salad he could throw together once the chicken was almost finished cooking. Instead of starting the broiler, though, he propped his hip against the counter and watched Kevin half-hop around the table. He was tempted to pull his mobile out so he could take a picture, but he refrained.

"Vegetables, meat's outcast third cousin," Kevin muttered, amused at himself. He kept inching around the table staring at the sculpture until he got back where he started from. Finally, he stood and forced himself to look away. He could stare more later. "D'you need any help with anything dinner-like?" He had heard the click of the knob when Jean-Paul turned on the broiler so Kevin had decided offering help was probably a better idea than staring some more. The Southerner wandered over to Jean-Paul but stopped on the other side of the counter from him so he didn't get in the way potentially.

Jean-Paul pulled the chicken out of the marinade and put it in a pan. "Non, I think it will not take so long and it is not a difficult recipe to follow." Kevin was pretty much the only person who knew the Quebecois had resorted to following recipes. Into the oven went the chicken. He set the timer on the oven and then walked over to Kevin so he could sit on the counter next to the Southerner. "You see? And it is almost finished already."

"Ain't it sorta early for dinner anyway?" Kevin nudged Jean-Paul's knees apart so he could slip between them. His hands came to rest lightly on the older man's hips. Kevin was quite comfortable where he was. "Ain't even four yet. Wait, you tryin' to both be polite and get rid of me quickly?"

"Mm... non," Jean-Paul said, resting his forearms on Kevin's shoulders. "But if we eat early, there is all the evening left to do other things."

"Ah." Kevin gave him a knowing look. "So eatin' early is step one to accomplishing your ulterior motives, huh?"

"Ulterior motives? I have no ulterior motives. Only regular motives where you are concerned," Jean-Paul said, grinning. "But oui, eating is step one."

Kevin thought about that for a second. "So what's it say 'bout us that other people's ulterior motives are pretty much our everyday motives?"

"That everyone else's priorities are backward?" Jean-Paul raised his brows a little. "Is it bad, that we have no ulterior motives?"

The Southerner shrugged. "Ulterior motives are overrated."