![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
om_ghost posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
om_mainFelix decides to be brave and talk to Jean-Paul after many months of keeping his distance. He is happily surprised by Jean-Paul's warmth and acceptance, and returns in kind.
Felix had caught sight of Jean-Paul somewhere in the dizzying swirl of delight that had been the party so far, but everything had been moving so quickly that he hadn't been able to think how to approach him. Only the thought lingered in the back of his mind, growing stronger and more certain, until Felix knew he had to speak to Jean-Paul, and to at least try to do it like a grown-up.
He was sixteen, now, after all. And he'd left childhood behind a long time ago.
It wasn't too long before he made sure that he found himself in Jean-Paul's orbit. Felix smiled at him, tentatively at first, but doing his best to keep his chin up and not shy away. Surrounded as he was by the generosity of his lavishly-minded friends, it was easier for Felix to feel confident. "Hi," he said, simply. "I'm really glad you came."
"Well, you know." Jean-Paul offered him a smile and half of an easy shrug. "I couldn't risk having you feel snubbed at your own gala. How have you been?"
For some reason, Felix hadn't fully expected relaxed kindness from Jean-Paul. Everyone knew that Jean-Paul had a temper; Felix was one of the few who knew that he had a warm heart, too. It was the whole reason Felix had forced some emotional space. He really shouldn't be surprised.
"This place is still kind of like Paradise," Felix answered, though the clean and tidy East Coast accent that Eames had taught him said volumes more than his words. "And my friends are, clearly, pretty ridiculous." He gave a vague gesture around at the re-imagined Xavier Institute circa 1920. "I'm... good. I'm lucky. I... I think I did some stupid things to get here, though."
Jean-Paul glanced down at his drink for a moment. He still knew relatively little about Felix, and he was aware that most of that was more than likely out of date. There was a lot the younger mutant could have been referring to.
"We're a school of superpowered kids. Name me one person here who has 100% good judgment."
"Aside from Philip?" Felix suggested with a tremulous smile. He turned his own drink in an uncertain circle, cradling it with his fingertips. Someone had been generous enough to actually give him one, and he wanted to savor it.
"What I mean is," he went on, quickly, before he could lose his nerve, "when I first came here, you were so nice to me, and I didn't know what to do about it, so I just... sort of... stopped letting you. You were even nice about that."
"What was I supposed to do? Call you an ungrateful brat and demand you confide in me?" Jean-Paul forced himself to meet Felix's eyes. His encounter with Vance -- or rather, the devastation of Vance's life -- had stirred up some memories he would have rathered stay buried. He wondered how Felix was dealing with it, given what he suspected about the younger boy's past. "You had to let people in at your own pace, I guess. Some people deal well with being affectionately strongarmed, but I think you would have just run harder if I had tried to chase you, so..." Another shrug. "How close I could get was your call, not mine."
It was startling, in a way, for someone to be so honest and simple with him. Many of the other students seemed to treat Felix very gently, especially when it came to Felix's own troubling issues. Jean-Paul simply told the truth, without a concealing coating, but also without malice or judgment. This was one of the reasons Felix had liked talking to him in the first place, he remembered. "I am grateful, though," he spoke up, trying on a tiny smile since he was only answering a tiny part of Jean-Paul's statement. "But I might still be a brat."
He didn't know how else to thank Jean-Paul for his understanding, and his patience.
A sly grin knifed across Jean-Paul's face and struck sparks of mischief in his eyes. "If that's the case, then you should be bowing down to your king. I have it on good authority that I'm more of a brat than you could ever hope to be."
Felix bit his lip before giggling, softly. Jean-Paul wasn't angry with him, or anything worse, and that was enough. He took a small step back and attempted to execute the kind of flourishing bow he'd seen in movies, which probably wasn't any kind of proper bow at all. "I'm happy to let you have the title," Felix assured him, "but maybe I should submit myself to Simon's judgment just to be sure."
"Tch." Jean-Paul waved the caution away with a sweep of his empty glass. "You can, but I don't know what you will get out of it. Who do you think gave me the title in the first place."
King of Brats seemed a strange sort of pet name, but then again, what did Felix know about romantic relationships? Perhaps that was normal. "He seems quite sweet, Simon does," Felix observed as he straightened up again, hedging a bet that Simon was one of Jean-Paul's favorite conversation topics. "Though, I'm a little afraid to even try to talk to him. Like there ought to be an entrance examination just to be able to have a conversation," he added with a faintly self-deprecating smile.
Jean-Paul shook his head. "Simon's one of the good guys, Felix. Remember how he was offering to help anyone who needed it with their schoolwork? You don't ever need to be afraid of him."
"He doesn't find it trying to always be talking to people who can't hold a candle to him?" Felix adored everything about school and learning, and harbored a private envy for those who were naturally brilliant. His question was the furthest thing from sarcastic or cutting. Quite the opposite. Felix held Simon in very high regard.
Jean-Paul shook his head at once. "Not that he has ever confided to me. I can't think he would either...he just isn't like that. He likes to help people. That is why he will be a great doctor."
Though tentative, Felix gave a small nod, and seemed to trust Jean-Paul's word on Simon. No one was in a better position to know, after all. "I could use some help keeping up with science. Biology..." His nose wrinkled in distaste.
"He's busy scouting out medical schools at the moment, so his schedule might be weird. But I am not exactly an idiot when it comes to that sort of thing if you're looking for help."
Felix was forgiven, and it was clear to him now. Somehow, his poor behavior hadn't bothered Jean-Paul, and the older boy he admired so much, for his courage and his self-confidence, still wanted to talk to him. It was just one more thing to admire about him. "That would really help," Felix agreed with a small sigh of relief, letting himself smile for real.
"Consider it done, then. It isn't as if I have a busy schedule this winter, non?" Jean-Paul's smile took on a slightly more practiced quality. "It might be good for me to relax."
Felix's brows lifted significantly. He knew how to smile when he didn't feel like it, and recognizing it on others wasn't very difficult. "Relaxing doesn't really sound like you," he offered, honest but tentative. It might be that he wasn't quite that forgiven.
"I will have to practice at it, then." Jean-Paul seemed to catch Felix's doubt, then shook his head. "It isn't you. It is just that I should be gearing up for my busy season and I can't."
Felix tried to imagine being told he couldn't do his favorite thing in the world -- reading, for instance -- and found that he couldn't even conceive of it. He would probably feel like the world had ended. This was terribly troubling, and he tipped his chin down with a solemn frown. "That's... awful. Isn't there something you can still do? Like the fellows who talk over the football games and tell people what's going on."
Personally, Jean-Paul thought that sounded like torture. Always watching, never taking part. Outwardly, he just shook his head. "I doubt I'd be allowed. It is all right. I will figure out something. Maybe I will help Raymonde in the bistro after I graduate."
"Personal pies-in-an-apple for everyone," Felix mused, remembering his attempt to 'help' Jean-Paul in the kitchen, what felt like ages ago. He couldn't help feeling like he'd managed to to tarnish the other boy's mood more than he really ought to, considering this was a party. Perhaps he oughtn't say anything more at all, and just let Jean-Paul find some more congenial company. Perhaps, though, he could gather up enough courage to say just one more true thing, first.
"Even... even if you aren't competing, you know, you're still... you're still kind of a hero," Felix stuttered out, tangling his hands together so they wouldn't flit about uselessly. "People still look up to you. I do."
The sentiment would have been weirdly uncomfortable no matter who it came from. It wasn't that he thought Felix was lying to him, exactly, it was just that even now he tended to view overtly positive opinions of himself with a degree of suspicion. He might have tried to laugh off the idea if it had been almost anyone but Felix, but it was impossible to doubt the sincerity that turned the quiet confession from an article of suspicion to unexpectedly touching sentiment.
"Merci," he said, his voice soft but holding the same honesty that he had shown before. "That... does mean a lot."
Felix absolutely lit up at those few words from Jean-Paul, tremendously pleased that he'd done something right, and that something so difficult for him to say had a positive effect. It settled some of his nerves, relaxed his shoulders perceptibly. He even smiled, and this time it was true. "I think Caius is looking for me. For the safety of all concerned, I should probably go see what he's up to now."
"The eternally bored one?" Jean-Paul grinned. "You should probably keep him out of trouble. But let me ask first -- do I get to take you out again? We only got to try the one restaurant."
Felix's desire to please Jean-Paul and rekindle their acquaintance ran crashing into the younger boy's deeply-seated fear of leaving the Institute for any reason. Yet he couldn't simply tell Jean-Paul that he didn't want to be found by government agents. That sounded, well, sort of crazy. What would Caius do?
"Well," Felix answered, pretending to think about it while trying not to blush (which he couldn't control anyway), "I suppose. If Simon gives permission. And if you don't mind that I only go out in disguise. I'm an international man of mystery now."
Jean-Paul frowned a little, more concern than displeasure. "We don't have to go out if you don't want to. We can stay in and cook."
Once Felix had decided to imitate Caius, the answers came much more easily, and even with a smile. "If you're asking me, I'd so much rather have something created by a wonderful chef I already know."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, p'tite chat," Jean-Paul said with a laugh. "But fine, if you want to run the risk of being put to work, then dinner in it will be."
Jean-Paul laughed, and Felix knew he'd done well. Why did Jean-Paul have to be so handsome? It really wasn't fair. "It's a risk I'm willing to take," Felix agreed.
Felix had caught sight of Jean-Paul somewhere in the dizzying swirl of delight that had been the party so far, but everything had been moving so quickly that he hadn't been able to think how to approach him. Only the thought lingered in the back of his mind, growing stronger and more certain, until Felix knew he had to speak to Jean-Paul, and to at least try to do it like a grown-up.
He was sixteen, now, after all. And he'd left childhood behind a long time ago.
It wasn't too long before he made sure that he found himself in Jean-Paul's orbit. Felix smiled at him, tentatively at first, but doing his best to keep his chin up and not shy away. Surrounded as he was by the generosity of his lavishly-minded friends, it was easier for Felix to feel confident. "Hi," he said, simply. "I'm really glad you came."
"Well, you know." Jean-Paul offered him a smile and half of an easy shrug. "I couldn't risk having you feel snubbed at your own gala. How have you been?"
For some reason, Felix hadn't fully expected relaxed kindness from Jean-Paul. Everyone knew that Jean-Paul had a temper; Felix was one of the few who knew that he had a warm heart, too. It was the whole reason Felix had forced some emotional space. He really shouldn't be surprised.
"This place is still kind of like Paradise," Felix answered, though the clean and tidy East Coast accent that Eames had taught him said volumes more than his words. "And my friends are, clearly, pretty ridiculous." He gave a vague gesture around at the re-imagined Xavier Institute circa 1920. "I'm... good. I'm lucky. I... I think I did some stupid things to get here, though."
Jean-Paul glanced down at his drink for a moment. He still knew relatively little about Felix, and he was aware that most of that was more than likely out of date. There was a lot the younger mutant could have been referring to.
"We're a school of superpowered kids. Name me one person here who has 100% good judgment."
"Aside from Philip?" Felix suggested with a tremulous smile. He turned his own drink in an uncertain circle, cradling it with his fingertips. Someone had been generous enough to actually give him one, and he wanted to savor it.
"What I mean is," he went on, quickly, before he could lose his nerve, "when I first came here, you were so nice to me, and I didn't know what to do about it, so I just... sort of... stopped letting you. You were even nice about that."
"What was I supposed to do? Call you an ungrateful brat and demand you confide in me?" Jean-Paul forced himself to meet Felix's eyes. His encounter with Vance -- or rather, the devastation of Vance's life -- had stirred up some memories he would have rathered stay buried. He wondered how Felix was dealing with it, given what he suspected about the younger boy's past. "You had to let people in at your own pace, I guess. Some people deal well with being affectionately strongarmed, but I think you would have just run harder if I had tried to chase you, so..." Another shrug. "How close I could get was your call, not mine."
It was startling, in a way, for someone to be so honest and simple with him. Many of the other students seemed to treat Felix very gently, especially when it came to Felix's own troubling issues. Jean-Paul simply told the truth, without a concealing coating, but also without malice or judgment. This was one of the reasons Felix had liked talking to him in the first place, he remembered. "I am grateful, though," he spoke up, trying on a tiny smile since he was only answering a tiny part of Jean-Paul's statement. "But I might still be a brat."
He didn't know how else to thank Jean-Paul for his understanding, and his patience.
A sly grin knifed across Jean-Paul's face and struck sparks of mischief in his eyes. "If that's the case, then you should be bowing down to your king. I have it on good authority that I'm more of a brat than you could ever hope to be."
Felix bit his lip before giggling, softly. Jean-Paul wasn't angry with him, or anything worse, and that was enough. He took a small step back and attempted to execute the kind of flourishing bow he'd seen in movies, which probably wasn't any kind of proper bow at all. "I'm happy to let you have the title," Felix assured him, "but maybe I should submit myself to Simon's judgment just to be sure."
"Tch." Jean-Paul waved the caution away with a sweep of his empty glass. "You can, but I don't know what you will get out of it. Who do you think gave me the title in the first place."
King of Brats seemed a strange sort of pet name, but then again, what did Felix know about romantic relationships? Perhaps that was normal. "He seems quite sweet, Simon does," Felix observed as he straightened up again, hedging a bet that Simon was one of Jean-Paul's favorite conversation topics. "Though, I'm a little afraid to even try to talk to him. Like there ought to be an entrance examination just to be able to have a conversation," he added with a faintly self-deprecating smile.
Jean-Paul shook his head. "Simon's one of the good guys, Felix. Remember how he was offering to help anyone who needed it with their schoolwork? You don't ever need to be afraid of him."
"He doesn't find it trying to always be talking to people who can't hold a candle to him?" Felix adored everything about school and learning, and harbored a private envy for those who were naturally brilliant. His question was the furthest thing from sarcastic or cutting. Quite the opposite. Felix held Simon in very high regard.
Jean-Paul shook his head at once. "Not that he has ever confided to me. I can't think he would either...he just isn't like that. He likes to help people. That is why he will be a great doctor."
Though tentative, Felix gave a small nod, and seemed to trust Jean-Paul's word on Simon. No one was in a better position to know, after all. "I could use some help keeping up with science. Biology..." His nose wrinkled in distaste.
"He's busy scouting out medical schools at the moment, so his schedule might be weird. But I am not exactly an idiot when it comes to that sort of thing if you're looking for help."
Felix was forgiven, and it was clear to him now. Somehow, his poor behavior hadn't bothered Jean-Paul, and the older boy he admired so much, for his courage and his self-confidence, still wanted to talk to him. It was just one more thing to admire about him. "That would really help," Felix agreed with a small sigh of relief, letting himself smile for real.
"Consider it done, then. It isn't as if I have a busy schedule this winter, non?" Jean-Paul's smile took on a slightly more practiced quality. "It might be good for me to relax."
Felix's brows lifted significantly. He knew how to smile when he didn't feel like it, and recognizing it on others wasn't very difficult. "Relaxing doesn't really sound like you," he offered, honest but tentative. It might be that he wasn't quite that forgiven.
"I will have to practice at it, then." Jean-Paul seemed to catch Felix's doubt, then shook his head. "It isn't you. It is just that I should be gearing up for my busy season and I can't."
Felix tried to imagine being told he couldn't do his favorite thing in the world -- reading, for instance -- and found that he couldn't even conceive of it. He would probably feel like the world had ended. This was terribly troubling, and he tipped his chin down with a solemn frown. "That's... awful. Isn't there something you can still do? Like the fellows who talk over the football games and tell people what's going on."
Personally, Jean-Paul thought that sounded like torture. Always watching, never taking part. Outwardly, he just shook his head. "I doubt I'd be allowed. It is all right. I will figure out something. Maybe I will help Raymonde in the bistro after I graduate."
"Personal pies-in-an-apple for everyone," Felix mused, remembering his attempt to 'help' Jean-Paul in the kitchen, what felt like ages ago. He couldn't help feeling like he'd managed to to tarnish the other boy's mood more than he really ought to, considering this was a party. Perhaps he oughtn't say anything more at all, and just let Jean-Paul find some more congenial company. Perhaps, though, he could gather up enough courage to say just one more true thing, first.
"Even... even if you aren't competing, you know, you're still... you're still kind of a hero," Felix stuttered out, tangling his hands together so they wouldn't flit about uselessly. "People still look up to you. I do."
The sentiment would have been weirdly uncomfortable no matter who it came from. It wasn't that he thought Felix was lying to him, exactly, it was just that even now he tended to view overtly positive opinions of himself with a degree of suspicion. He might have tried to laugh off the idea if it had been almost anyone but Felix, but it was impossible to doubt the sincerity that turned the quiet confession from an article of suspicion to unexpectedly touching sentiment.
"Merci," he said, his voice soft but holding the same honesty that he had shown before. "That... does mean a lot."
Felix absolutely lit up at those few words from Jean-Paul, tremendously pleased that he'd done something right, and that something so difficult for him to say had a positive effect. It settled some of his nerves, relaxed his shoulders perceptibly. He even smiled, and this time it was true. "I think Caius is looking for me. For the safety of all concerned, I should probably go see what he's up to now."
"The eternally bored one?" Jean-Paul grinned. "You should probably keep him out of trouble. But let me ask first -- do I get to take you out again? We only got to try the one restaurant."
Felix's desire to please Jean-Paul and rekindle their acquaintance ran crashing into the younger boy's deeply-seated fear of leaving the Institute for any reason. Yet he couldn't simply tell Jean-Paul that he didn't want to be found by government agents. That sounded, well, sort of crazy. What would Caius do?
"Well," Felix answered, pretending to think about it while trying not to blush (which he couldn't control anyway), "I suppose. If Simon gives permission. And if you don't mind that I only go out in disguise. I'm an international man of mystery now."
Jean-Paul frowned a little, more concern than displeasure. "We don't have to go out if you don't want to. We can stay in and cook."
Once Felix had decided to imitate Caius, the answers came much more easily, and even with a smile. "If you're asking me, I'd so much rather have something created by a wonderful chef I already know."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, p'tite chat," Jean-Paul said with a laugh. "But fine, if you want to run the risk of being put to work, then dinner in it will be."
Jean-Paul laughed, and Felix knew he'd done well. Why did Jean-Paul have to be so handsome? It really wasn't fair. "It's a risk I'm willing to take," Felix agreed.
