Simon and Jean-Paul, backdated 1/28
Jan. 28th, 2016 08:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_northstar posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainJean-Paul's insecurities prompt an unexpected trip to Simon's window. NSFW!
Simon had to admit, his circadian rhythms were completely out of sync. He'd only woken up from a nap at eight o'clock that night, and taking a hot shower hadn't done anything to sooth him back to sleep. Fortunately, he had the next day off from the hospital, but at this rate, he was likely to be up all night and sleep through whatever remained of his small vacation.
In a stroke of optimism, he'd dressed in a pair of pajama pants, brushed his teeth, and resolved to find a movie on Netflix that Jean-Paul wouldn't resent him for watching alone. With his boyfriend at Raymonde's for the night, it was likely to be a lonely bout of insomnia.
He stepped out of the bathroom, still toweling off his hair, and reached for the remote, biting down on any feelings of longing that had started to crop up again. He'd agreed this was the best arrangement for Jean-Paul. He couldn't resent that decision now.
Simon had only just brought up his Netflix queue when a knock at the window drew his attention. A snow-caked speedster was hovering out in the dark, his features mostly hidden by the light reflecting from within the room.
He pushed to his feet, padding to the window and giving his boyfriend a 'what on Earth?' stare before swinging the windows wide.
Jean-Paul was inside in another moment, soaked to the skin and actually shivering. It was little wonder too; even aside from the complete breaking of schedule, everything about his arrival spoke of impulse, from his clothes to the lack of luggage. As efficient as Jean-Paul's metabolism was at fending off the cold, even he needed more than a t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie to fend off the fickle eastern weather this winter. He offered Simon a weak smile.
"I had a choice between a couple of glasses of wine at Raymonde's, or a night with you. I hope you weren't too attached to having the bed to yourself tonight."
"Are you completely out of your mind?" Simon cursed, slapping the windows closed and striding across the room to pull down three or four large fluffy towels from the closet. "Strip...before you plunge your core even lower than it already is," he ordered.
"I'm just chilled, not hypothermic!" Jean-Paul protested, though he didn't bother to waste time physically resisting. "I used to practically live outside in the winter, remember?"
"You used to practically live outside during the winter with proper insulation," Simon snorted softly, helping Jean-Paul get out of the wet clothes, then wrapping a towel around his shoulders. "Dry off or you're not getting in my bed at all."
"Oh, I see how it is." Jean-Paul smirked through his shivers and began buffing off. "A little distance and it suddenly goes from being our bed to your bed. You're a hard man, Simon Tam."
"Well I have to be to live with a snowman," Simon grumbled. Not that he hadn't noticed Jean-Paul's abrupt appearance, or his lack of luggage. Something was wrong - more than just his boyfriend's shivers - but banter was always a bit easier until Jean-Paul had settled.
He visited the thermostat, turning the heat up a notch, then returned to the bed and lowered the lights.
"And here I thought I was your living hot water bottle." Jean-Paul pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then snuggled into bed with Simon without waiting for an invitation. "Sorry I missed your day off. School's a bitch."
"My day off is tomorrow, so fortunately, your mind is scrambled and you haven't missed anything," Simon drawled, leaning back against the pillows. "Have you eaten? I have leftovers in the mini-fridge."
"Yeah, I should eat..." Jean-Paul sighed and moved away just enough to let Simon get up. "How are you doing?"
Simon slipped out of bed and grabbed the takeout container of chicken piccata, heating it up in the small microwave they kept in the room. "Oh, am I answering first?"
Jean-Paul blinked. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
Simon looked over and smiled sideways. "No, but it's clear that you're upset, or you wouldn't have come all the way back here in the middle of the night." He paused, then answered, "I'm tired, but fine."
"It's not the middle of the night," Jean-Paul said, but the protest was weak. He curled his hands around the warm carton when Simon brought it back to him and went quiet for a bit. "I did miss you. It was a rough day on campus, that's all."
Simon lowered to sit next to him, frowning. "How rough?"
Jean-Paul snorted a humorless laugh and drew his legs up a bit. "Rough enough that I wondered why the hell I didn't just try taking online courses from Raymonde's or something more sensible. I just got recognized a lot today for all of the wrong reasons. Lots of anti-mutant, pro-Alpha Flight bullshit. And vice versa."
Simon's expression darkened and he turned to face Jean-Paul. "Are you kidding me? Who? More than one person?"
"Yeah. It started with a couple of people between classes, then turned into a full-on debate, with me as Exhibit A for both sides. I told them to fuck off and go do something useful before I took off, but I still had to get to class." He shrugged. "Just...a lot of shit and memories I didn't feel like dealing with without you."
Simon closed his eyes. "God, I hate ignorance." After a moment, he looked up and nodded. "Finish the chicken, then we can watch a movie or something."
Jean-Paul nodded, but did more pushing the food around with his fork than eating. "Do you think I did the right thing? Any of it? Alpha Flight? Coming out?"
Simon's eyebrows lifted. "I think the better question is - do you?"
"I used to think so." Jean-Paul snorted softly. "I thought so this morning. I don't know. I'm probably being an idiot."
"What exactly did they say to make you rethink your convictions?" Simon asked, reaching out to cut off a piece of chicken and offer it to his boyfriend's lips with his fingers.
A moment of indecision, but Jean-Paul obeyed the unspoken order fist and lipped the morsel from Simon's fingertips. "It wasn't just one thing, it was just how little difference any of it seemed to make. It felt like... I could have opted not to throw my career away, I could have spared myself a lot of p-pain..." Jean-Paul frowned and cleared his throat. "A lot of hardship and nightmares, and it wouldn't have made any difference at all."
"Hey," Simon slid closer, reaching up with both hands to push his fingers gently through Jean-Paul's hair. "How many mutants do you think might have been hurt if people hadn't seen someone like you come out and...not care about any of it? How many kids look up to you? Try to be more like you?"
"I'm a mess," Jean-Paul pointed out, swallowing hard. His throat tightened and he set the food aside.
Simon pulled him closer, brushing his lips along Jean-Paul's brow. "You did the right thing, mon loup. You started a revolution of acceptance, and because of that, conversations like the one at school are taking place rather than outright violence. And I would take conversations over violence any day, even bigoted and ignorant ones. At the end of the day, you did what you thought was right, and I do too."
Jean-Paul let out a shuddering breath and rested his head on Simon's shoulder. He didn't know if he believed everything that Simon said, but he had to believe he hadn't fucked up his whole life for nothing. This was all so far from what he'd wanted for himself and where he'd seen himself, from how he'd seen himself, and trying to build up from this unanticipated, unwanted launching point made him want to scream.
He sniffed quietly, then managed to find words. "Since when do you get to call me that? You're picking up bad habits from the bakery sisters."
Simon smiled against his hair, sliding his arms around close around him. "You must love it, then."
"Only if you're going to learn to bake for me." Jean-Paul finally let Simon just draw him close and hold on to him.
"God no. It's my job to keep you healthy - not poison you," Simon snorted softly.
"Even when I'm being pathetic?"
"If I'm being honest, it's a little nice to take care of you for a change," Simon murmured in his hair. "It seems like too often I am the one falling apart."
Jean-Paul lifted his head, surprised. "You're not, though. You're... you're fantastic."
Simon raised an eyebrow at him. "I am a wreck."
"You're always there to catch me," Jean-Paul protested.
"That's about all I'm good at," Simon smiled a little. "But I'm glad you appreciate it."
"Of course I do. You've had to do it a lot. Put me back together after all of it. After Laura. After Gibney..." The kiss was sudden, impulsive, and wound up with Jean-Paul on top of Simon, straddling his hips. "My Touchstone. The key that keeps me from falling apart."
Simon's breath whooshed out of him as his back hit the mattress, but Jean-Paul's speed and passion always had the inevitable effect of making his heart race, his blood heat. He huffed a half-laugh, half-groan against Jean-Paul's lips, hands sliding over his flanks and down his back. "That's pushing it..."
"No?" Jean-Paul slid a hand into Simon's hair, then tightened his grip slightly. It was cheating, but it always got Simon's attention in the best ways. He tugged him into another firm kiss. When he spoke, their lips all but brushed again. "Do you think it's luck of the draw that I'm here with you and not Raymonde? I love him, but I need you. Like my own heartbeat..."
It was cheating, but Simon felt the response hit his body like lightening, arching into Jean-Paul, surging into the kiss. When they broke, his concentration was hazy, but the words resonated with him on several levels. "You know I need you too," he murmured softly, despite the fact that his hands had firmed on Jean-Paul's hips, dimpling into his skin.
Jean-Paul arched into Simon's increasingly possessive grip. "I want you..."
"Amending your previous statement?" Simon breathed, grinning teasingly as he shifted just enough to line them up for just the right amount of friction between them both.
"Stating the obvious." Jean-Paul bore down on him in a wicked grind and stole another kiss. Want, need... practically the same thing in the moment.
Simon gasped into the kiss, his hands shoving down the back of Jean-Paul's sweats to grip his ass, attempting to drive the grind harder. "I am not coming in my pants tonight..." He huffed between kisses, nipping at Jean-Paul's lips. "So you'd better find some slick..."
"Looking to fuck or be fucked, love?"
Simon chuckled against his lips and arched into him again. "Dealer's choice."
Jean-Paul drew Simon into another kiss, guiding him with the grip on his hair. "Get comfortable and spread out, then." And then he was on his feet with a bounce, stripping in mid-air as he went to fetch lube.
Simon pushed the covers away and kicked off his pajama bottoms, but rolled onto his side to watch Jean-Paul curiously. A familiar question blossomed in his mind, and he'd never asked - had never really wanted to know the answer - but Jean-Paul had so much need...
"Am I enough for you?"
Jean-Paul was on top of him another moment, all hot, sleek skin and rough kisses. "Afraid I'll stray?" he breathed.
"No," Simon shivered, hands catching him and tugging at him. But the question was serious and he pushed up on an elbow, even as he slid a thigh between Jean-Paul's. "But I'm afraid I can't please you as much as your...mutation requires."
Jean-Paul blinked, honestly floored, he sat back, the tube of clear gel clutched as an afterthought in one hand. "Have you ever turned me down? I do not think so. And I'm not some sex friend, mutation or no. You really think I would leave you because I'm too lazy to use my hands to take care of things?"
"I don't think you would leave me," Simon replied, covering his real reaction, which was to inwardly wince at the confirmation. Objectively, he understood that their schedules just didn't allow for them to be together enough to satisfy either of them. Simon still found himself masturbating most days. But he'd also always wondered how much more Jean-Paul required. Unfortunately, frequency hadn't been the focus of his question, so it stung to hear Jean-Paul's answer despite the fact that he deeply understood all of the reasons why.
"I'm more concerned that you don't get enough intensity out of the times when we're together," he breathed out, stomping down on the hurt.
Jean-Paul frowned, tossed the lube aside and settled against Simon's back, ignoring his own flagging erection. "I don't think I understand what you're asking," he said slowly. "Or why."
Bad timing, Tam. Simon sighed and leaned back into him. This was better. Was easier when he couldn't see Jean-Paul's face. "You get off on a certain amount of adrenaline. It's your nature. You're used to moving at high speed...mentally adjusted for it. While your mutation isn't like Pietro's, in that you're not forcibly slowing yourself down to interact with others, you still have a certain brain chemistry adapted to the way your molecules vibrate at speed. But...sex with me, you can't do that. Not enough to let yourself go, anyway."
Jean-Paul sighed against Simon's neck. "God. Have you been letting that eat at you?"
"Not as often as you might think," Simon admitted. "But yes, I've wondered if you wouldn't enjoy yourself more with someone who was a bit more hardy."
"It's not like that," Jean-Paul said quietly. "Like you said, I'm not Maximoff. I'm not always on. I like the adrenaline rush. I like that I can live my life at speed whenever I want, and sometimes I even need to. But I'm not holding back when it's me and you. And even if I were... I'd tell you. We could figure out something." He slid an arm around Simon's waist. "You're not too fragile for me. That's never been an issue."
"But you would enjoy it more," Simon pointed out, proud of the fact that he kept his voice even and casual.
"Fucking at super-speed?" Jean-Paul wrinkled his nose. "I think it would be weird, actually. Maybe kind of lonely, in a way."
If he weren't fucking another speedster, perhaps. Simon sighed and leaned back into him. "I didn't mean to derail the fun."
"Sounds like you weren't going to have much fun with that on your mind." And, honestly, Jean-Paul was pretty sure he wasn't either. It was frustrating to think that Simon had it fixed in his head that he'd never be able to satisfy him. "You're enough for me, Simon. I don't want anyone else."
Simon huffed. "I always have fun with you," he protested, then rolled back into him a little for emphasis. "And my libido is hating me for bringing it up when I did."
"Yeah, probably not the best time," Jean-Paul said, chuckling despite himself. "Or the best night." He was quiet a moment. "Are you satisfied with me?"
"More than..." Simon replied immediately - no hesitation. "You take me higher than I thought was possible."
"Glad you think one of us is happy." Jean-Paul rolled Simon just enough to steal a kiss. "Is the movie still on offer? And I think I could finish off the rest of that chicken now."
As much as Simon knew Jean-Paul could probably eat, he didn't want to let it end there. He rolled all the way around, sitting up to straddle his boyfriend's stomach, looking down on him intensely. "How about later?"
Jean-Paul stared for a moment, pinned between confusion and arousal... not to mention Simon's thighs. "I... thought we were done?"
Simon stared at him. "Why on earth would we be done?"
"I mean..." Jean-Paul swallowed. "If you think I can't be satisfied with you, why...?"
Simon sighed heavily, then ran his hands slowly up Jean-Paul's chest. "Just because I have concerns about you doesn't make it any less good for me... and I know that you do enjoy it. I just didn't know if sometimes you wouldn't want more."
Jean-Paul huffed out a breath as Simon caressed him. "You're making it hard to think, Tam."
"Normally I wouldn't propose this," Simon smiled, reaching back with one hand to feel out the shape of his boyfriend's cock, fingers ghosting. "But maybe, just for tonight, you need to think a little bit less."
"You just like being the smartest one in the room." Jean-Paul gave in, smoothing his hands up Simon's thighs to grip his ass. "You never did tell me why you started shaving everywhere."
Simon flushed slightly, then leaned down to kiss him, forgetting his fondling for a moment as he chased the question away, indulging in a lingering taste.
Jean-Paul took the kiss with soft moan. Apparently thinking and talking were both off the table. He squeezed Simon's ass hard, trying to shift enough to rub up against him.
Simon shifted, sliding his knees back, adjusting their bodies until they were aligned before rocking his weight down. He swallowed Jean-Paul's moans, one hand sliding down his side, the other pushing fingers up through his hair.
Jean-Paul pulled away to get a breath, just long enough to breathe Simon's name. His barely-subsided interest had surged back with nearly painful intensity.
Simon took the opportunity to glance up, groping for the lube, breathless and blind to anything but satisfying the ache coiling inside him. His hands were quick and efficient - one wrapping around his boyfriend's erection, stroking slickly as he sat up. The other disappeared behind him as he kneeled up on the bed, eyes sliding closed.
"Fuck..." Jean-Paul threw dignity to the wolves and thrust up, fucking the slick circle of Simon's hand. He knew what was coming and his heart was racing. Every fiber of him was yearning for it.
"Yes," Simon huffed softly, and then he was there, lowering himself onto Jean-Paul's cock, careful, but faster than usual, needing it, heat flaring through blood at the ache rolling between them. His gaze found Jean-Paul's, dark and hungry.
Jean-Paul's breath caught and he had to stop a moment, just close his eyes and claw for control of himself. It was more than just the feel of Simon sliding down around him, parting for him and taking him in. The sight of his buttoned-down, upright boyfriend naked and astride him, hungry for his cock, threatened to undo him. He took a deep breath and fumbled for Simon's cock, just to give him something more to concentrate on.
Simon braced a hand in the middle of Jean-Paul's chest, a flicker of a smile on his lips as he watched Jean-Paul struggle, feeling in his bones the lust licking through the man below him. Then his eyes slid closed as he let himself ride, physically, mentally, rocking down on the speedster and losing himself in the adrenaline and endorphins.
Jean-Paul breathed Simon's name again and rocked up into him, starting slow. He firmed his grip on his lover's cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. He'd wanted his lover's touch. Reassurance. He'd wanted to forget everything outside or in the future. Now was all that was important. His Simon. His pleasure. He thrust into him again, feeling the release building along his nerves.
Simon cursed softly as he picked up the pace, breathless moans leaving him the quicker they moved, the more Jean-Paul rocked up into him. His boyfriend's name got shortened into one syllable the more in sync they became. He hadn't realized how much he had needed it, the freedom from thought or worry or responsibility - just sensation and need. He could feel the tension coil low in his gut, pulling tighter with every thrust, every slick tug of Jean-Paul's hand.
The world had narrowed to heat, the faint slap of skin, and the delicious, intimate friction that was had built to become the focus above all else. Jean-Paul's raked his free hand against Simon's side as his orgasm crested, trying to hold him that much closer, then lost himself in a final arch and shudder of breath.
Simon tipped over with him, a stutter of a breath behind the speedster, his back bowing as he gasped and shuddered, head rocked back to feel every nuance of the orgasms as they rippled through nerves and hormones and endorphins.
"Oh fuck...!" Jean-Paul jerked beneath him, almost undone a second time by the sight of Simon riding his cock with sheer abandon. "Oh, God, Simon..."
Simon didn't have the breath to answer him, but as he came down, he slumped over his boyfriend's body, catching himself on his arms, forehead pressed to Jean-Paul's as he let the aftershocks die down.
Jean-Paul wasn't about to let it end that gently; he pulled Simon down onto him and devoured him in a rough kiss.
Groaning against his mouth, Simon returned the kiss, a rush of heat matching the enthusiasm despite his haze.
"Je t'aime," Jean-Paul sighed. It hadn't changed the world. But it was a reminder of why he'd done what he'd done, why any sacrifice was worth it to keep his people safe.
Not that Jean-Paul was consciously thinking of such while he had an affectionate, freshly-fucked Simon Tam in his arms. He just knew the tight ball of trapped panic in his chest had loosened and he was happier than he'd been when he'd knocked at the window.
"Mmhmm," Simon managed drunkenly, sliding off to one side, but still entangling himself with the man, all loose limbs heavy with exhaustion. "That."
"Mmmph." Jean-Paul flopped against him, happily sticky, overwarm and sated. "You'll kill me if I try to leave, right?"
"Don't you dare," Simon mumbled.
Jean-Paul hugged up against him, protective despite the moment. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Simon had to admit, his circadian rhythms were completely out of sync. He'd only woken up from a nap at eight o'clock that night, and taking a hot shower hadn't done anything to sooth him back to sleep. Fortunately, he had the next day off from the hospital, but at this rate, he was likely to be up all night and sleep through whatever remained of his small vacation.
In a stroke of optimism, he'd dressed in a pair of pajama pants, brushed his teeth, and resolved to find a movie on Netflix that Jean-Paul wouldn't resent him for watching alone. With his boyfriend at Raymonde's for the night, it was likely to be a lonely bout of insomnia.
He stepped out of the bathroom, still toweling off his hair, and reached for the remote, biting down on any feelings of longing that had started to crop up again. He'd agreed this was the best arrangement for Jean-Paul. He couldn't resent that decision now.
Simon had only just brought up his Netflix queue when a knock at the window drew his attention. A snow-caked speedster was hovering out in the dark, his features mostly hidden by the light reflecting from within the room.
He pushed to his feet, padding to the window and giving his boyfriend a 'what on Earth?' stare before swinging the windows wide.
Jean-Paul was inside in another moment, soaked to the skin and actually shivering. It was little wonder too; even aside from the complete breaking of schedule, everything about his arrival spoke of impulse, from his clothes to the lack of luggage. As efficient as Jean-Paul's metabolism was at fending off the cold, even he needed more than a t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie to fend off the fickle eastern weather this winter. He offered Simon a weak smile.
"I had a choice between a couple of glasses of wine at Raymonde's, or a night with you. I hope you weren't too attached to having the bed to yourself tonight."
"Are you completely out of your mind?" Simon cursed, slapping the windows closed and striding across the room to pull down three or four large fluffy towels from the closet. "Strip...before you plunge your core even lower than it already is," he ordered.
"I'm just chilled, not hypothermic!" Jean-Paul protested, though he didn't bother to waste time physically resisting. "I used to practically live outside in the winter, remember?"
"You used to practically live outside during the winter with proper insulation," Simon snorted softly, helping Jean-Paul get out of the wet clothes, then wrapping a towel around his shoulders. "Dry off or you're not getting in my bed at all."
"Oh, I see how it is." Jean-Paul smirked through his shivers and began buffing off. "A little distance and it suddenly goes from being our bed to your bed. You're a hard man, Simon Tam."
"Well I have to be to live with a snowman," Simon grumbled. Not that he hadn't noticed Jean-Paul's abrupt appearance, or his lack of luggage. Something was wrong - more than just his boyfriend's shivers - but banter was always a bit easier until Jean-Paul had settled.
He visited the thermostat, turning the heat up a notch, then returned to the bed and lowered the lights.
"And here I thought I was your living hot water bottle." Jean-Paul pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then snuggled into bed with Simon without waiting for an invitation. "Sorry I missed your day off. School's a bitch."
"My day off is tomorrow, so fortunately, your mind is scrambled and you haven't missed anything," Simon drawled, leaning back against the pillows. "Have you eaten? I have leftovers in the mini-fridge."
"Yeah, I should eat..." Jean-Paul sighed and moved away just enough to let Simon get up. "How are you doing?"
Simon slipped out of bed and grabbed the takeout container of chicken piccata, heating it up in the small microwave they kept in the room. "Oh, am I answering first?"
Jean-Paul blinked. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
Simon looked over and smiled sideways. "No, but it's clear that you're upset, or you wouldn't have come all the way back here in the middle of the night." He paused, then answered, "I'm tired, but fine."
"It's not the middle of the night," Jean-Paul said, but the protest was weak. He curled his hands around the warm carton when Simon brought it back to him and went quiet for a bit. "I did miss you. It was a rough day on campus, that's all."
Simon lowered to sit next to him, frowning. "How rough?"
Jean-Paul snorted a humorless laugh and drew his legs up a bit. "Rough enough that I wondered why the hell I didn't just try taking online courses from Raymonde's or something more sensible. I just got recognized a lot today for all of the wrong reasons. Lots of anti-mutant, pro-Alpha Flight bullshit. And vice versa."
Simon's expression darkened and he turned to face Jean-Paul. "Are you kidding me? Who? More than one person?"
"Yeah. It started with a couple of people between classes, then turned into a full-on debate, with me as Exhibit A for both sides. I told them to fuck off and go do something useful before I took off, but I still had to get to class." He shrugged. "Just...a lot of shit and memories I didn't feel like dealing with without you."
Simon closed his eyes. "God, I hate ignorance." After a moment, he looked up and nodded. "Finish the chicken, then we can watch a movie or something."
Jean-Paul nodded, but did more pushing the food around with his fork than eating. "Do you think I did the right thing? Any of it? Alpha Flight? Coming out?"
Simon's eyebrows lifted. "I think the better question is - do you?"
"I used to think so." Jean-Paul snorted softly. "I thought so this morning. I don't know. I'm probably being an idiot."
"What exactly did they say to make you rethink your convictions?" Simon asked, reaching out to cut off a piece of chicken and offer it to his boyfriend's lips with his fingers.
A moment of indecision, but Jean-Paul obeyed the unspoken order fist and lipped the morsel from Simon's fingertips. "It wasn't just one thing, it was just how little difference any of it seemed to make. It felt like... I could have opted not to throw my career away, I could have spared myself a lot of p-pain..." Jean-Paul frowned and cleared his throat. "A lot of hardship and nightmares, and it wouldn't have made any difference at all."
"Hey," Simon slid closer, reaching up with both hands to push his fingers gently through Jean-Paul's hair. "How many mutants do you think might have been hurt if people hadn't seen someone like you come out and...not care about any of it? How many kids look up to you? Try to be more like you?"
"I'm a mess," Jean-Paul pointed out, swallowing hard. His throat tightened and he set the food aside.
Simon pulled him closer, brushing his lips along Jean-Paul's brow. "You did the right thing, mon loup. You started a revolution of acceptance, and because of that, conversations like the one at school are taking place rather than outright violence. And I would take conversations over violence any day, even bigoted and ignorant ones. At the end of the day, you did what you thought was right, and I do too."
Jean-Paul let out a shuddering breath and rested his head on Simon's shoulder. He didn't know if he believed everything that Simon said, but he had to believe he hadn't fucked up his whole life for nothing. This was all so far from what he'd wanted for himself and where he'd seen himself, from how he'd seen himself, and trying to build up from this unanticipated, unwanted launching point made him want to scream.
He sniffed quietly, then managed to find words. "Since when do you get to call me that? You're picking up bad habits from the bakery sisters."
Simon smiled against his hair, sliding his arms around close around him. "You must love it, then."
"Only if you're going to learn to bake for me." Jean-Paul finally let Simon just draw him close and hold on to him.
"God no. It's my job to keep you healthy - not poison you," Simon snorted softly.
"Even when I'm being pathetic?"
"If I'm being honest, it's a little nice to take care of you for a change," Simon murmured in his hair. "It seems like too often I am the one falling apart."
Jean-Paul lifted his head, surprised. "You're not, though. You're... you're fantastic."
Simon raised an eyebrow at him. "I am a wreck."
"You're always there to catch me," Jean-Paul protested.
"That's about all I'm good at," Simon smiled a little. "But I'm glad you appreciate it."
"Of course I do. You've had to do it a lot. Put me back together after all of it. After Laura. After Gibney..." The kiss was sudden, impulsive, and wound up with Jean-Paul on top of Simon, straddling his hips. "My Touchstone. The key that keeps me from falling apart."
Simon's breath whooshed out of him as his back hit the mattress, but Jean-Paul's speed and passion always had the inevitable effect of making his heart race, his blood heat. He huffed a half-laugh, half-groan against Jean-Paul's lips, hands sliding over his flanks and down his back. "That's pushing it..."
"No?" Jean-Paul slid a hand into Simon's hair, then tightened his grip slightly. It was cheating, but it always got Simon's attention in the best ways. He tugged him into another firm kiss. When he spoke, their lips all but brushed again. "Do you think it's luck of the draw that I'm here with you and not Raymonde? I love him, but I need you. Like my own heartbeat..."
It was cheating, but Simon felt the response hit his body like lightening, arching into Jean-Paul, surging into the kiss. When they broke, his concentration was hazy, but the words resonated with him on several levels. "You know I need you too," he murmured softly, despite the fact that his hands had firmed on Jean-Paul's hips, dimpling into his skin.
Jean-Paul arched into Simon's increasingly possessive grip. "I want you..."
"Amending your previous statement?" Simon breathed, grinning teasingly as he shifted just enough to line them up for just the right amount of friction between them both.
"Stating the obvious." Jean-Paul bore down on him in a wicked grind and stole another kiss. Want, need... practically the same thing in the moment.
Simon gasped into the kiss, his hands shoving down the back of Jean-Paul's sweats to grip his ass, attempting to drive the grind harder. "I am not coming in my pants tonight..." He huffed between kisses, nipping at Jean-Paul's lips. "So you'd better find some slick..."
"Looking to fuck or be fucked, love?"
Simon chuckled against his lips and arched into him again. "Dealer's choice."
Jean-Paul drew Simon into another kiss, guiding him with the grip on his hair. "Get comfortable and spread out, then." And then he was on his feet with a bounce, stripping in mid-air as he went to fetch lube.
Simon pushed the covers away and kicked off his pajama bottoms, but rolled onto his side to watch Jean-Paul curiously. A familiar question blossomed in his mind, and he'd never asked - had never really wanted to know the answer - but Jean-Paul had so much need...
"Am I enough for you?"
Jean-Paul was on top of him another moment, all hot, sleek skin and rough kisses. "Afraid I'll stray?" he breathed.
"No," Simon shivered, hands catching him and tugging at him. But the question was serious and he pushed up on an elbow, even as he slid a thigh between Jean-Paul's. "But I'm afraid I can't please you as much as your...mutation requires."
Jean-Paul blinked, honestly floored, he sat back, the tube of clear gel clutched as an afterthought in one hand. "Have you ever turned me down? I do not think so. And I'm not some sex friend, mutation or no. You really think I would leave you because I'm too lazy to use my hands to take care of things?"
"I don't think you would leave me," Simon replied, covering his real reaction, which was to inwardly wince at the confirmation. Objectively, he understood that their schedules just didn't allow for them to be together enough to satisfy either of them. Simon still found himself masturbating most days. But he'd also always wondered how much more Jean-Paul required. Unfortunately, frequency hadn't been the focus of his question, so it stung to hear Jean-Paul's answer despite the fact that he deeply understood all of the reasons why.
"I'm more concerned that you don't get enough intensity out of the times when we're together," he breathed out, stomping down on the hurt.
Jean-Paul frowned, tossed the lube aside and settled against Simon's back, ignoring his own flagging erection. "I don't think I understand what you're asking," he said slowly. "Or why."
Bad timing, Tam. Simon sighed and leaned back into him. This was better. Was easier when he couldn't see Jean-Paul's face. "You get off on a certain amount of adrenaline. It's your nature. You're used to moving at high speed...mentally adjusted for it. While your mutation isn't like Pietro's, in that you're not forcibly slowing yourself down to interact with others, you still have a certain brain chemistry adapted to the way your molecules vibrate at speed. But...sex with me, you can't do that. Not enough to let yourself go, anyway."
Jean-Paul sighed against Simon's neck. "God. Have you been letting that eat at you?"
"Not as often as you might think," Simon admitted. "But yes, I've wondered if you wouldn't enjoy yourself more with someone who was a bit more hardy."
"It's not like that," Jean-Paul said quietly. "Like you said, I'm not Maximoff. I'm not always on. I like the adrenaline rush. I like that I can live my life at speed whenever I want, and sometimes I even need to. But I'm not holding back when it's me and you. And even if I were... I'd tell you. We could figure out something." He slid an arm around Simon's waist. "You're not too fragile for me. That's never been an issue."
"But you would enjoy it more," Simon pointed out, proud of the fact that he kept his voice even and casual.
"Fucking at super-speed?" Jean-Paul wrinkled his nose. "I think it would be weird, actually. Maybe kind of lonely, in a way."
If he weren't fucking another speedster, perhaps. Simon sighed and leaned back into him. "I didn't mean to derail the fun."
"Sounds like you weren't going to have much fun with that on your mind." And, honestly, Jean-Paul was pretty sure he wasn't either. It was frustrating to think that Simon had it fixed in his head that he'd never be able to satisfy him. "You're enough for me, Simon. I don't want anyone else."
Simon huffed. "I always have fun with you," he protested, then rolled back into him a little for emphasis. "And my libido is hating me for bringing it up when I did."
"Yeah, probably not the best time," Jean-Paul said, chuckling despite himself. "Or the best night." He was quiet a moment. "Are you satisfied with me?"
"More than..." Simon replied immediately - no hesitation. "You take me higher than I thought was possible."
"Glad you think one of us is happy." Jean-Paul rolled Simon just enough to steal a kiss. "Is the movie still on offer? And I think I could finish off the rest of that chicken now."
As much as Simon knew Jean-Paul could probably eat, he didn't want to let it end there. He rolled all the way around, sitting up to straddle his boyfriend's stomach, looking down on him intensely. "How about later?"
Jean-Paul stared for a moment, pinned between confusion and arousal... not to mention Simon's thighs. "I... thought we were done?"
Simon stared at him. "Why on earth would we be done?"
"I mean..." Jean-Paul swallowed. "If you think I can't be satisfied with you, why...?"
Simon sighed heavily, then ran his hands slowly up Jean-Paul's chest. "Just because I have concerns about you doesn't make it any less good for me... and I know that you do enjoy it. I just didn't know if sometimes you wouldn't want more."
Jean-Paul huffed out a breath as Simon caressed him. "You're making it hard to think, Tam."
"Normally I wouldn't propose this," Simon smiled, reaching back with one hand to feel out the shape of his boyfriend's cock, fingers ghosting. "But maybe, just for tonight, you need to think a little bit less."
"You just like being the smartest one in the room." Jean-Paul gave in, smoothing his hands up Simon's thighs to grip his ass. "You never did tell me why you started shaving everywhere."
Simon flushed slightly, then leaned down to kiss him, forgetting his fondling for a moment as he chased the question away, indulging in a lingering taste.
Jean-Paul took the kiss with soft moan. Apparently thinking and talking were both off the table. He squeezed Simon's ass hard, trying to shift enough to rub up against him.
Simon shifted, sliding his knees back, adjusting their bodies until they were aligned before rocking his weight down. He swallowed Jean-Paul's moans, one hand sliding down his side, the other pushing fingers up through his hair.
Jean-Paul pulled away to get a breath, just long enough to breathe Simon's name. His barely-subsided interest had surged back with nearly painful intensity.
Simon took the opportunity to glance up, groping for the lube, breathless and blind to anything but satisfying the ache coiling inside him. His hands were quick and efficient - one wrapping around his boyfriend's erection, stroking slickly as he sat up. The other disappeared behind him as he kneeled up on the bed, eyes sliding closed.
"Fuck..." Jean-Paul threw dignity to the wolves and thrust up, fucking the slick circle of Simon's hand. He knew what was coming and his heart was racing. Every fiber of him was yearning for it.
"Yes," Simon huffed softly, and then he was there, lowering himself onto Jean-Paul's cock, careful, but faster than usual, needing it, heat flaring through blood at the ache rolling between them. His gaze found Jean-Paul's, dark and hungry.
Jean-Paul's breath caught and he had to stop a moment, just close his eyes and claw for control of himself. It was more than just the feel of Simon sliding down around him, parting for him and taking him in. The sight of his buttoned-down, upright boyfriend naked and astride him, hungry for his cock, threatened to undo him. He took a deep breath and fumbled for Simon's cock, just to give him something more to concentrate on.
Simon braced a hand in the middle of Jean-Paul's chest, a flicker of a smile on his lips as he watched Jean-Paul struggle, feeling in his bones the lust licking through the man below him. Then his eyes slid closed as he let himself ride, physically, mentally, rocking down on the speedster and losing himself in the adrenaline and endorphins.
Jean-Paul breathed Simon's name again and rocked up into him, starting slow. He firmed his grip on his lover's cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts. He'd wanted his lover's touch. Reassurance. He'd wanted to forget everything outside or in the future. Now was all that was important. His Simon. His pleasure. He thrust into him again, feeling the release building along his nerves.
Simon cursed softly as he picked up the pace, breathless moans leaving him the quicker they moved, the more Jean-Paul rocked up into him. His boyfriend's name got shortened into one syllable the more in sync they became. He hadn't realized how much he had needed it, the freedom from thought or worry or responsibility - just sensation and need. He could feel the tension coil low in his gut, pulling tighter with every thrust, every slick tug of Jean-Paul's hand.
The world had narrowed to heat, the faint slap of skin, and the delicious, intimate friction that was had built to become the focus above all else. Jean-Paul's raked his free hand against Simon's side as his orgasm crested, trying to hold him that much closer, then lost himself in a final arch and shudder of breath.
Simon tipped over with him, a stutter of a breath behind the speedster, his back bowing as he gasped and shuddered, head rocked back to feel every nuance of the orgasms as they rippled through nerves and hormones and endorphins.
"Oh fuck...!" Jean-Paul jerked beneath him, almost undone a second time by the sight of Simon riding his cock with sheer abandon. "Oh, God, Simon..."
Simon didn't have the breath to answer him, but as he came down, he slumped over his boyfriend's body, catching himself on his arms, forehead pressed to Jean-Paul's as he let the aftershocks die down.
Jean-Paul wasn't about to let it end that gently; he pulled Simon down onto him and devoured him in a rough kiss.
Groaning against his mouth, Simon returned the kiss, a rush of heat matching the enthusiasm despite his haze.
"Je t'aime," Jean-Paul sighed. It hadn't changed the world. But it was a reminder of why he'd done what he'd done, why any sacrifice was worth it to keep his people safe.
Not that Jean-Paul was consciously thinking of such while he had an affectionate, freshly-fucked Simon Tam in his arms. He just knew the tight ball of trapped panic in his chest had loosened and he was happier than he'd been when he'd knocked at the window.
"Mmhmm," Simon managed drunkenly, sliding off to one side, but still entangling himself with the man, all loose limbs heavy with exhaustion. "That."
"Mmmph." Jean-Paul flopped against him, happily sticky, overwarm and sated. "You'll kill me if I try to leave, right?"
"Don't you dare," Simon mumbled.
Jean-Paul hugged up against him, protective despite the moment. "Wouldn't dream of it."
