Gabriel & Clint - Meet & Greet

[x-velocidad.livejournal.com]

Clint and Gabriel meet and talk about life at Xavier's, their backgrounds and flirting. (As in flirting happens. There is flirting.)

Until landing at this luxe suburban estate, Gabriel hadn't realized just how much he'd cherished space.

It wasn't that life in his cramped city apartment was miserable. He loved his roommates, loved how friendly they managed to be despite constantly being each other's business, loved how feeling claustrophobic forced him to go out and do things.

But there was something to be said for grass and trees, and the feeling that you could actually find somewhere to plop down and claim it for yourself. Gabriel had done just that about an hour ago, figuring it might be worth taking advantage of the mansion's pool before summer ended.

It was warm-ish for September, and after a quick swim in some GQ-approved swim trunks he certainly hadn't paid for, he was now lying idly on a chair and soaking up some vitamin D. This was not an experience that could be had in Manhattan.

Clint walked out to the pool, his towel over one shoulder, and then paused. There was a new person laying out, a guy, and he wondered if he was going to have another suitemate if things got shuffled around this year. "Hey," he said, tossing his towel on one of the lounge chairs. He'd remembered to put on sunscreen before leaving the suite, which was awesome and left him free to head straight for the water.

Gabriel leaned up from his chair, peering over his sunglasses to take stock of the other guy joining him. "Hey!" He scooted to the end of his chair, then swung his legs over the side. "Uh, I'm Gabriel. I live here now. Well, not, here here," he pointed toward the pool awkwardly, "but you know. Here."

Grinning, Clint nodded along with the other boy for a moment, then said, "I'm Clint. I live here, too." He gestured to the mansion as a whole, then continued, "But until the air temperature drops to about sixty degrees, I pretty much live here." He pointed to the pool, then tilted his head considering. "Unless I'm in class."

"Ah, student life. I remember that." Gabriel laughed. He couldn't tell whether Clint was in high school or college, mostly because of how muscular the kid seemed to be considering his face. Which was similarly distracting - there was no shortage of eye candy around here, to be sure, though maybe that was because there was little else to do in the suburbs besides work out. "So, tell me about yourself, Clint. Genus? Species? Country of origin?" He turned and reached for the Diet Coke he'd been sipping.

Clint laughed. "Clinton Barton, human, USA. New York born and bred. You?"

"Gabriel Cohuelo, Texas-born and -raised, New York-educated. Kinda. Not really." He turned back to face Clint, soda can in hand. "Jury's still out on species, I guess."

"Nah, you're human - just like the rest of us. We've just got a little extra awesome included, is all. My mutation is mostly with my eyes - enhanced vision and stuff. Yours?" Clint headed toward the diving board, glancing over his shoulder to indicate that he was still listening.

Gabriel's eyes followed him. "Super-fast. Super-speedster. Leave your racist Speedy Gonzalez jokes at home, though."

Brows rising, Clint climbed the couple steps to the diving board. "Dude - touchy much? My dads would ground me for a month if I made racist jokes."

Gabriel's eyebrows raised in return. "Dads, plural." He nodded, considering. He knew that was the dream of the progressive older gay generation, even if it wasn't something he could relate to. Or that he'd ever relate to. "This an adoption situation, or a mix-the-sperm-so-we-don't-know-whose-kid-it-is kinda thing?"

"Adoption," Clint answered, testing the give of the board. "I was in the system, they fostered me for years and then decided to make it official. Hang on a sec." With that, he jumped once - twice - and dove into the pool. He surfaced a few moments later, took a breath, and headed for the side. "What's your story?"

"Show off," Gabriel snorted, although he might as well have been describing himself. He stood and went to the side of the pool, sitting on the edge and putting his feet in the water. Since Clint was honest, he figured he'd be close-to-honest back. "Reasonably religious Catholic family in El Paso. Gay." He glanced down at the equal sign tattooed on his left pec. "Got caught making out with the senior track star – humblebrag, I know. He was cute, too."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, yeah. Got kicked out of the house, which, whatever. My dad's an asshole. Moved to Austin for a while, then New York. Now I'm here."

"Here's a good place to be," Clint said, nodding toward the mansion. "You going to college in the area or just hanging out until you can get yourself on your feet again?" He didn't bother asking what'd brought Gabriel to the mansion from the city - something had too've happened, just like something happened for everybody who wound up here.

"I don't know." Good to know that he looked college-age. He'd never actually told Jean how old he was, since she hadn't asked, and he was afraid she'd make him give up drinking. "I mean, college, no. Not right now anyway. I'm a bartender at a gay bar in the city. Was, anyway. Probably still will be." He looked around. "And don't go spreading it around, since some people here actually think I'm wholesome, but like," he scratched his shoulder, "I dance sometimes too. Not that it's a big deal, not really, but some people get weird about it." Especially not compared to some of the other things he'd done to make money.

"What, like on a stage or something?" Clint asked, tipping his head back to look at the other young man. Then he rested his chin on his folded arms and considered that. "I guess people would consider me wholesome. I mean, Maddie's snuck in alcohol for a couple parties, but that's not all that bad or anything."

"Awww." Gabriel offered him a slightly cryptic smile. He wasn't going to get into his background - or his dancing - although he couldn't help but wonder how susceptible Clint would be to some corruption. Then again, that was exactly the kind of thing Jean had implied was verboten. "That's pretty wholesome. Stay gold, Clint Barton."

Clint snorted. "Gold? Sure, we'll go with that." He dipped one hand in the water and then flicked it at Gabriel. "Are you one of those people who just chills on the side of the pool all day getting roasted?"

"It's from a poem, guy." Gabriel pushed off the ledge and into the water. "And don't hate. Just because you're pale as hell doesn't mean the rest of us don't want to be." He pushed his hands down in the water to splash Clint.

Shaking water from his face, Clint grinned. "More a science person, myself. Never paid as much attention in English as I should've. And I'm not pale, dude. I'm just not burnt to a crisp, either. There's a fine line between nicely tanned and skin cancer."

"Beg to differ. You're like Casper out here."

"Pssh," Clint said, swimming backward toward deeper water. "Casper. Who does that make you? Christina Ricci?"

"Pfffft," Gabriel snorted and grinned. "You should be so lucky."

Laughing, Clint continued swimming toward the other end of the pool. "Yeah, I should," he said, raising his eyebrows as he finally reached the wall near the diving board.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows back at Clint, a sly smile on his face. "Not sounding so wholesome anymore."

Clint grinned. "There's nothing inherently bad when it comes to flirting, y'know. And sex is a natural function of the human body. Endorphins are nice."

An amused Gabriel shook his head. "Hoo boy, my friend. Your game needs some work." Not that brains weren't cute, but talk about ruining the mood. "Nice to know you were flirting, though. And thanks for the tip."

"Nah, my game's good - some people like it when I talk nerdy," Clint said, pulling himself up and out of the pool before turning to sit on the side. "Have you met everybody? Had the regular tour and introduction to the weirdness that living at the mansion can be?"

"Jean gave me the official teacher tour, I think." Gabriel pushed himself back toward the edge. "I'm sure she missed a few stops. And everyone keeps hinting at weirdness but nobody will actually tell me what that means. Guess I'm meant to find out for myself."

"Yeah, see, there's this whole group of, like, superheroes based out of the basement. It's pretty cool, actually, but that's why things can be weird - and never, ever go on a field trip with the students. I've gotten a written note from my dads saying I don't have to. Because those just always end badly. Always," Clint said, giving Gabriel a very serious look.

"See, none of this was in the brochure. Or on the tour." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "All I got was a warning from Johnny about some fish-boy who lived in the lake, which seems to be total bullshit, and a vague allusion to the improvement of my future."

"Oh, Namor - no, he doesn't live in the lake. He could live in the lake, if he wanted, but he doesn't. He's just a legit aristocrat, like a duke or something, I don't even know. Marquis! That's it, I think. So he's kind of... aristocratic, which throws people off. I just toss things at his head when he's being an ass. It works really well," Clint said, shrugging. "But the X-Men... they're pretty cool."

"The X-Men - that's the superheroes based out of the basement?" That explained the full-service medical clinic in which he'd woken up. Gabriel turned and pushed himself out of the water, then sat on the edge of the pool with his feet dangling in the water again. "I think that's who helped rescue me from these two crazy ladies who were chasing me." He laughed at Clint's look. "Long story." It actually wasn't, but he didn't want to go into the details. "And you know how it ends, clearly."

"Yep, the basketball court opens up and the Blackbird flies out - so y'know. Don't be on that if there's an emergency," Clint said, grinning. "The clinic's pretty epic, yeah - but so are all the facilities here at the mansion. The labs for classes are awesome, the kitchen's like for a five star chef - which Lorna basically is, I think."

"Huh." Gabriel nodded. He pulled his feet on the water and sat cross-legged across from Clint. "So danger-in-ever-corner aside, what about the people?"

"Pretty much everybody's cool," Clint said. "You've got the teachers and the X-Men, who're all pretty clean-cut. There's high school and college aged kids plus people who're having problems with their powers. We're all really chill, for the most part. Friendly. What kind of information are you looking for, here? I can get more specific, if you want, but you gotta give me some directions."

"Who to avoid, obviously?" Gabriel grinned. "And who is good people. Jury's still out on you."

Clint snorted. "Namor's alright if you can put up with him being himself. The students are alright. Mister Summers is cool, he kind of leads the X-Men, but not really. We're super democratic. Mister Kane is a legit Mountie on loan from Canada. He and Miss Frost the second are an item, she's pretty much awesome. Miss Frost the first is amazing. Lorna's in charge of the kitchens and she makes the best food. I really like her tacos. I can't think of anybody you should avoid at the moment. Like I said, everybody's pretty chill."

"Fair enough," Gabriel nodded. "You're not a great gossip, but that's fine. I'll go ahead and give most people the benefit of the doubt. I guess I kinda do that anyway. Although, you should know, I've got pretty high standards for tacos."

"Lorna's are better than anybody else's. She's a culinary genius," Clint said, his face and tone completely serious. He didn't joke about food. "Oh, but there's the gym and the ballroom and the boathouse which is actually like an art studio. I got lost in the attic once with my roommate, Billy - Billy's good people. Topaz loves books as much as I love science - I don't get it, but to each his or her own. There's the archery range and the shooting range. The garage is full of cars you can probably take out. Did they tell you about the phones and the emergency buttons on them?"

"No." Gabriel groaned. "No, they didn't." He kicked his legs out in front of him. Jean had come clean about quite a few things, but he hadn't realized the extent of this place's crazy. "Do you all have fun around here, or do you just spend your free time avoiding danger and training to avoid danger?"

Grinning, Clint said, "Well, like I said, avoid field trips at all costs, there's a curse. But beyond that, there's Silver, which is a club, and the adults hang out at Harry's sometimes. That's a bar. I work at Deli-CAT-essen, a restaurant run by one of the other residents here. It's also not that far of a drive into the city and my dads live in Manhattan, so there've been quite a few weekend trips to see shows and stuff. Fridaygame nights are a thing in my suite - pizza, video games, typically no girls. Sundays Tandy usually shows a black and white movie in the rec room upstairs."

"No girls?" Gabriel feigned distress. "Ah well." He grinned back at Clint. Actually, knowing there was a bar in reasonable distance was helpful. Maybe he'd be able to move his job out here too. "No weekend evening fun for me, not until late anyway. Busy bar nights, lots of money to be made. Old movie night sounds like a good time, though. Very... classic."

Clint shrugged. "I like them - means I'm not missing out on any important color-related cues." He gestured toward his eyes. "Colorblind."

"Huh. Go figure." Advanced vision and colorblindness. That sounded about right. Gabriel stood. "Well, Mr. Barton, it's been a pleasure, but I do have plans in the city later, and to make that happen, I need to be presentable. So perhaps I ought to take my leave."

"Nice meeting you," Clint said, watching as Gabriel headed back to his lounge chair and then into the house. He had a tattoo of a falcon that covered the back of one shoulder - the artwork was very nice. There was a great deal about Gabriel that was very nice, in fact, but Clint kept that opinion to himself as he stood up and made his way to the diving board again.