Kevin & JPB | Friday Evening

[x-quebecois.livejournal.com]

Kevin drops by Jean-Paul's place in the city with thai and movies, but they get distracted pretty much before the credits have finished rolling.


NSFW.


Kevin had grabbed Thai take out on his way to Jean-Paul’s apartment after work, and of course there was enough food to feed about five people because that’s what the Quebecois’ metabolism demanded. He also had a bag of DVDs which were now sitting on top of the TV. It had taken little time before Kevin had found a comfortable spot on Jean-Paul’s couch, take out carton in hand. He also sort of refused to move now which is why he was telling Jean-Paul that the movies were his responsibility. “You’re still standin’. See, it’s all easy for you to put it in. You can just pick whatever you want, too. See? Ah’m givin’ you the power here.

“I do not wish for the power,” Jean-Paul said, poking at the stack of DVDs. “I want the pad thai.” He sort of laughed, though, and grabbed a movie at random. Putting it in, he picked up the remote control and walked back over to the couch. He settled himself between Kevin and the arm of the couch, nudging until Kevin was closer to him before picking up the carton of pad thai and starting the movie.

“No pad thai for you,” Kevin said with a finger pointed at Jean-Paul. When the other man came over and reached for the carton Kevin even swatted away his hand. “Nope. You didn’t earn it. You tried to refuse the power Ah was givin’ you and so you forfeit the pad thai. See what you get for bein’ a pacifist?”

Jean-Paul frowned a little, eyebrows drawing down for a moment before he let the tried and true puppy dog expression slide into place. “No pad thai for moi?”

Kevin set his mouth in a stern, immovable expression. “No pad thai for...” he couldn’t remember how to say you in French suddenly, “toi.” What, it rhymed with moi at least.

Pursing his lips on a smile, Jean-Paul shook his head and then said, switching over to French, “That is not very nice of you, my friend. I put the movie in, I pressed play, I’ve volunteered to be your pillow when you inevitably want to lounge instead of sitting there...” Then he switched back to English. “‘Toi’ is a very bad pronunciation of trois, which is three, also. ‘Vous’ is ‘you.’ You see? It rhymes.”

“No vous for you,” Kevin told him with as serious an expression as he could manage. It didn’t last long before he cracked and a smile started to sneak onto his face. When the smile grew into a grin Kevin leaned over and kissed Jean-Paul’s nose.

Jean-Paul wrinkled his nose, then smiled and tipped his head so he could catch Kevin’s lips for a proper kiss. “No me for me? May I have you, then?”

Pretending to think about that was undermined by the kiss distracting him. Kevin was remarkably easy to distract that way. It was almost a little sad, really. “Yeah. Yeah, you can totally have me.”

“Merci,” Jean-Paul said, leaning in to kiss Kevin again. He reached over and grabbed the pad thai while he was at it, though he didn’t break the kiss until they were both hungry for air.

That was a dirty trick. Alright, Kevin wasn’t really going to keep the food from the hungry speedster, but distracting wasn’t fair. Especially when it was Jean-Paul doing the distracting since he was so good at it. “Cheater,” Kevin breathed when he realized the pad thai had been snagged while he had been otherwise occupied.

Jean-Paul grinned, took a bite of pad thai, and then ate it with relish. “All is fair, is it not, when you are standing - or sitting - between a hungry man and his dinner.”

“Lies. They just don’t teach y’all no manners up in French Canadia. Only real Canadians got manners. Shame.” He shook his head and took a bite of his pad see ew. “What’d you put in anyway?”

“I was raised by moose,” Jean-Paul said with a shrug. “I cannot say things for the rest of French Canada, though. And I do not know what I put in. It was on top and it had cars on the cover.”

Kevin didn’t actually know what he had brought. Maybe it was The Expendables? “French Canadia needs to take more of an interest in the raising of their young. Moose just ain’t acceptable role models. For one, they go to the bathroom in front of the world. No sense of modesty. Guess that’s where you get it from.”

“Oui, the moose had the rearing of me from a young age,” Jean-Paul said, figuring that was true enough in some senses - half of his foster parents hadn’t deserved to be called real people, anyway. “Though truly, I believe you contribute more to my immodesty than the moose ever did.”

“Me?” Kevin had used his most affronted tone and tried to bleed that into his expression as well. He likely failed. “Me contribute to immodesty? Ah’d never! How could you go accusin’ me of such things? That’d be all...impolite and stuff.”

Leaning in so his lips brushed the fabric covering Kevin’s ear, Jean-Paul held his carton of pad thai away from them and said, “Take your shirt off. Then your trousers - slowly. I want to see every inch of skin. Boxers next. Not so slow, maybe. Wrap your fingers just so, stroke this way, twist your palm over the head...” The Quebecois grinned, voice still low and a little rough around the edges as he finished, “Oui, I was never so immodest as I am now. I blame you. And I do not mind.”

Listening to that so quiet and close meant Kevin required clearing his throat several times before he could even attempt to speak. Even then, all he initially managed was an incredibly articulate, “Uh...” Another clearing of his throat. “Yeah, really, really not minding.”

Nuzzling into the side of Kevin’s neck, Jean-Paul let the grin turn into a simple smile. “Oui, I did not think you would.” And then he pulled back just enough to be able to eat another bite of pad thai.

There was something going on in the movie that involved a lot of shooting but Kevin wasn’t concentrating on it. He was a little busy with Mental Image Land. “Nope. No objections. Moose’re still rude, though.”

A bite of pad thai halfway to his mouth, Jean-Paul quirked his head to the side and raised his brows. Then he leaned in again and whispered, “I want to feel your fingers inside me.”

That was so wrong. There was food and people being shot or blown up or something and now all Kevin could think about was the other day and Jean-Paul naked against a wall with Kevin’s fingers in him and his mouth on him and...now he was too distracted to even try to respond with anything even vaguely coherent.

Jean-Paul grinned. He could be very immodest, when the urge arose. “Would you like that? I would like to watch your fingers twist inside yourself, mon aime. I would like that very much.”

Mental Image Land shifted from Jean-Paul’s back against the wall and Kevin on his knees in front of him to Kevin in the shower and Jean-Paul watching and instructing. He was like eight levels of distracted and in no way coherent enough to speak. Because, well, that was hot. They both knew what Jean-Paul saying stuff like that would do to Kevin. The Quebecois did it anyway. Because he was evil.

Putting his pad thai down, Jean-Paul reached for the remote control and paused the movie he hadn’t been paying any attention to, anyway. Then he turned Kevin’s face toward his own, glad he’d worn the gloves today, and kissed him.

Kissing. That Kevin could do. He didn’t need the power of speech to return the kiss. Blindly, he reached out and managed to set his carton down on the table without knocking anything over. Movies were overrated. Food could be reheated. Kevin turned more fully toward Jean-Paul, an arm snaking around the older man’s waist and tugging him closer and further down on the couch.