Jean-Phillipe and Angelo

[x-bevatron.livejournal.com]

Jean-Phillipe comes over to bend Angelo's ear about X-Corps things, and belatedly realizes that Angelo's injured. And then they realize other things.


Angelo was bored out of his mind with channel surfing. Angelo also had a wrist in a cast, bound ribs under his shirt, a lot of bruises, stitches along his cheekbone and a telekinetic redhead issuing dire threats if he tried to do anything silly.

But she wasn't there, so when someone rang the doorbell, he levered himself out of his chair and hobbled to answer it.

"Bonjour, Angelo," Jean-Phillipe said somewhat habitually and perfunctorily as he bustled past the other man and into the apartment. "I have had some ideas about programs, and..." He was several sentences into nattering on about his latest brainstorm before he noticed the bruises and the slow ginger way Angelo was moving. "Desolee, I am clearly not very observant today," he said, moving to Angelo's side to provide help in getting him back to the couch.

Angelo had been watching him with patient amusement, and not without interest in his ideas, until he stopped talking, and then he nodded and leaned on Jean-Phillipe's shoulder. "All's good, you were excited about your ideas. Which we can totally do."

Jean-Phillipe waved the hand not engaged with helping Angelo back to his couch dismissively. "Eh, ideas shall keep," he said. "So, how did you come by this week's exciting collection of bruises?" he asked.

"Fun little encounter with a frost giant", Angelo told him, moving forward slowly but with determination. "It didn't like having knives shoved in its eyes and unfortunately it didn't die fast enough. Swiped me off its shoulder."

"Well, I am glad you are at least in one piece," Jean-Phillipe answered briskly as they got to the couch and slowly lowered Angelo to the pile of cushions built up at one end. "Bruises and cuts mend in time."

"Very true, and so do broken bones." He leaned into his little fortress and gestured amicably for the other man to sit down too. "Could have been a lot worse, there was some dark stuff going on down there."

"This is not that much of a surprise to me. I have come to expect dark things when my cousin gets involved." Marie-Ange had texted Jean-Phillipe about being out of town at around the same time that Angelo had gone, so it was not difficult to put the two together. But he had to admit that she was very proficient at resolving those dark things. "I am glad that you were not injured more seriously."

"JP, I didn't know you cared", Angelo said teasingly, shooting him a grin. "But yeah, so am I. And that we all made it back still breathing, it was a dicey one."

Jean-Phillipe snorted dismissively, his eyes shining playfully. "Please. You are my boss. Who else would hire a quasi-reformed mutant terrorist who is finishing his last semester at university?" He waved loftily. "It is in my own interest to make sure you stay relatively unharmed."

"Charles Xavier", he returned instantly, amused. "But I'll remember that, you can be my bodyguard when we get to going places."

"Pfft. I would be a terrible bodyguard," Jean-Phillipe observed. "Too easily distracted by good-looking boys." He chuckled. "Even worse if they were the person I was supposed to be protecting."

Angelo glanced at him sideways, a sudden spark of interest in his eyes. "Maybe I'll go with Fred, then, he can take whatever hits him and throw it right back. Can't have the good-looking non-invulnerable boys getting hurt for me."

"Of course not," Jean-Phillipe murmured, smoothing the hair behind his ear. "That does raise a question. What is your stance on claiming spa days as worker's compensation if my good-looking face does get hurt?" His lips twitched as if he were trying to hold a grin back.

"Hmm, I'd have to think about that one", Angelo said mock-seriously. "Sick days you could have, no question, but spa days I might have to fudge the books. Or just pay for it myself."

Jean-Phillipe thought about that for a second, then nodded. "I suppose it would be acceptable for you to pay out of pocket to make sure I stay this fabulous and attractive." He was glad to see Angelo in good spirits.

"Doing the world a favour", he agreed, deadpan. "I can afford it, anyway, and you're doing me a favour being here. Convalescence is boring."

"It is my pleasure," Jean-Phillipe assured him. And it was. Angelo was enjoyable to be around, personally or professionally. "How is the food situation?" he asked, clearly already thinking about the next meal to fuel his metabolism. "If you like, I could go out and get something, or call delivery?"

"Ah, yeah, energy projector - " He glanced vaguely towards the kitchen. "There might be leftovers in the fridge unless John got there first, but unless you're really hungry, you don't want those. Don't go, we can call for delivery."

"Well, I am always at least somewhat hungry," Jean-Phillipe observed. "But you are correct, I would prefer not to deal with leftovers." He got up from the couch and headed toward the kitchen area. "Do you keep as extensive a collection of delivery menus as I do?" he asked with an amused tone to his voice.

"Probably", he admitted, idly watching the other man move around. "I cook, but John doesn't, and y'know, working hours overtime, you don't want anything that takes effort when you do get home."

"John does not seem the sort to cook," Jean-Phillipe agreed. Probably for a similar reason to the Frenchman himself - too impatient, generally. He much preferred takeout, or to let Laurie cook for them both, or to scavenge the mansion's well-stocked kitchen. "I am all for less effort," he continued with a nod. "Any preferences?" he asked, fanning out several of the menus from where they sat beside the phone.

"If it's there, I'll eat it", Angelo told him easily. "So I get dinner - you don't have to pay for mine - and good company to share it with. Easy on the eyes company, too, three wins."

That frank admiration was perhaps a touch unexpected, and Jean-Phillipe leaned out of the kitchen as he picked up the phone. "Has Docteur Grey-Summers got you on some sort of painkiller?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "That was somewhat out of nowhere." He shrugged. "Not that I am complaining." His boss was just as easy on the eyes, to be sure.

"Something like that." He held up his left hand with its cast in mitigation. "The last time I was high on painkillers, there was candy and a flying baby and it all ended... messily. I'm just chilled now, and I've been thinking about asking you out for a drink for, like, two weeks, and I just thought 'screw subtle'. Anyway, you started it."

Jean-Phillipe snorted. "How very five years old of you, patron," he tossed back as he waited through hold music to place the order for their food. Not that he had any intention of letting Angelo pay. His cousin's footing the bill for his education meant that he generally could splurge a bit more on food and entertainment.

"Everyone should be five years old sometimes, it refreshes the mind", was the lazy response. "...don't report me for sexual harassment, okay?"

"Why would I do a silly thing like that?" Jean-Phillipe asked as he hung up the phone and came back to sit on the couch, this time quite a bit closer to Angelo than before. "Firstly, that would require that your advances be unwelcome. Which they are not." He leaned in, much more assured now that he was aware of Angelo's interest. "Second, that would imply that I felt any kind of outside-the-office relationship between us would affect our work inside the office. Which I do not." He had faith in both of their abilities to keep personal and professional separate. "And third..." He leaned in and kissed Angelo to surprise the other man when he was probably expecting some other reasoned argument.

Reasoned argument had been expected, and Angelo had been getting ready to agree thoroughly when Jean-Phillipe beat him to it. After half a startled second, the kiss was returned, enthusiastically.

"Now, however shall we keep ourselves occupied until dinner arrives?" Jean-Phillipe asked playfully.