Jean-Paul and Simon, backdated 12/26/14
Dec. 26th, 2014 02:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainJean-Paul and Simon exchange gifts and contemplate the future. Holiday fluff ahead!
Christmas was technically over by the time everyone got from Raymonde's. The early morning was freezing cold, which didn't impact Jean-Paul so very much, but left the speedster with no doubt that Simon was eager to get back up to their hotel room and finish the half bottle of wine they'd snagged from the Christmas celebration on their way out.
"Mmmm." Jean-Paul leaned up against Simon as they shut the door behind them. "You know, I never gave you your presents this morning."
Simon, still shivering a little, paused in the middle of pulling his gloves off with his teeth, said, "Huh," then slid his hands up under Jean-Paul's warm shirt and buried his face against his boyfriend's neck, attempting to burrow into the heat coming off of him. A moment later, there came a muffled, "We should do that. In a minute."
"You cannot be that cold. We only had to walk across the parking lot." Jean-Paul wrapped his arms around Simon all the same. "How did you ever survive winter before you had me, hm?"
"I lived in the South," Simon insisted into his neck, nuzzling his cold nose against it. Virginia, while at the north end of that description, was still the South he could safely proclaim. Although, to be fair, he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed it himself.
Jean-Paul kissed the top of his head. "What sounds better? Warm bed and wine or a hot shower?"
"Do I have to choose?" Simon smiled against him, but finally raised his head with a sigh. "Bed. But I'm changing clothes before we settle down to open presents."
Jean-Paul's smile widened, as if Simon had said something unintentionally amusing, but he only nodded and went to crank the room's heater. "Sounds fair enough." He changed into a pair of worn sweats and poured the wine into the plastic hotel cups, then headed to the closet for Simon's gifts.
As always, it took Simon longer to undress than his boyfriend, watching in amusement as Jean-Paul whooshed here and there as he unbuttoned his shirt, flinging it over a hanger. His shoes were discarded, along with his socks, balled up and tossed toward his suitcase. Jeans folded over a nearby chair. He pulled on a pair of dark blue sleep pants, then grabbed a warm zip-up hoodie to sling on until the heater did its job. Finally, he lifted the pile of boxes he'd brought with them out of a duffle bag and carried it over to the bed, setting it in a neat display at the end.
Jean-Paul set a trio of precisely wrapped parcels, large and small, and a thick manilla envelope down beside Simon's arrangement, then pounced onto the mattress beside him. "Tag." Jean-Paul tapped him lightly on one shoulder. "You open one first."
Simon chuckled and reached out to take the box off the top, which happened to be the smallest. The wrapping was carefully removed, as always, but he stopped when he realized the size of the box, and glanced at Jean-Paul uncertainly.
Awkward silence for a moment, as Jean-Paul tried to read Simon's expression...then he snorted and gave him a nudge. "I wouldn't put you on the spot like that, you suspicious ass." He leaned over to snag the wine from the bedside table. "Consider it a standing promise, though."
Simon lifted the box, his eyes catching sight of the ring. Picking it up in his fingers, he turned it slowly, reading the inscription as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Jean-Paul..."
A raised pattern of vines and leaves twined over the silver band, wreathing the inscription Vous et nul autre. You and no other.
Jean-Paul kissed his neck. "I would marry you in a second if you wanted to," he murmured. "But I'm not wanting for anything with what we have now. You make me happy."
Simon slipped the ring on his right hand, then turned and ducked to catch Jean-Paul's mouth with his own, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, one hand slipping up behind his neck to hold him in place.
Jean-Paul pressed into the kiss for a long, breathless heartbeat, savoring the familiar taste of him. "Mine," he murmured.
"Possessive bastard," Simon smiled before pulling away. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And, for the record, I am your possessive bastard." Jean-Paul hugged him again. "My turn now, non?" He handed Simon a cup of wine and considered the pile of presents. Unlike Jean-Paul's variably-sized parcels, Simon's were almost uniform in size and all wrapped in the same paper, giving no sense of timeline. Well, almost. Jean-Paul grinned and reached for the smallest of the lot, following Simon's lead.
Simon took a sip of the wine, leaning back and grinning as he watched. "Well, I might show my possessiveness in other ways."
Wrapping paper flew even as Simon spoke, and Jean-Paul punctuated his statement with a laugh as a handful of black, silky almost-nothing fell onto his lap. Jean-Paul held up the snug briefs, grinning. "So I see. Well, you're wearing my ring...I think it's only fair I return the favor, non?"
His boyfriend wiggled his brows. "No powers."
Jean-Paul leaned in for a kiss that turned into a nip. "I thought you would have learned by now that I'm not a cheat," he teased. He'd all but flowed to his feet in the next moment, just tipsy enough that there was no chance of any untidy self-consciousness getting in the way of Simon's view. "No powers at all, hmm?"
"Well, if you're inclined to float..." Simon laughed softly, "I won't stop you."
A moment later, Jean-Paul was a foot above the floor. He skinned his sweatpants off his hips and let gravity pull them down to his ankles before kicking them toward Simon's head. "Better?" He did a mid-air catwalk turn, letting Simon see that he hadn't been slacking in his physical training at all -- all lean muscle and sharp lines.
Simon caught the sweats in his free hand, but let his gaze rake over every inch of his boyfriend's body, a line from his lips to his toes, drinking in the taut muscle and firm ass. "I am so fucked."
"Is that what you want?" Jean-Paul drew one leg up and began sliding the boxers on. His outline barely changed, save that his cock and balls were obscured in a shadowed bulge.
His boyfriend laughed softly, but didn't take his eyes off of him. "Maybe when we're done..."
Jean-Paul's eyes all but gleamed at the possibility. "I'll keep that in mind." He landed at Simon's side again, and pushed the largest of his presents onto his lap. "And I think I have us well equipped for the possibility."
Simon raised a brow, but passed the wine back to him, briefly patting his ass in those boxers - because how could he not? - and peeled the wrapping paper back, a laugh immediately passing his lips. "I don't know. These are probably better used in our own room..."
Jean-Paul smirked triumphantly at the 1500-thread count burgundy sheets. "No desire to break them in properly in exotic Montreal?" he asked innocently.
Running his fingers over the label, Simon ran his tongue briefly over his lips. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt sheets that nice before, and the temptation to roll around on them was strong. "You...are a bastard."
"So you keep telling me." Jean-Paul crawled forward to claim his next present, giving Simon a very nice view of his sleek, barely obscured ass.
Simon's grin widened as he watched, already starting to open the package of sheets, just to get started on - and maybe to get his fingers on that material. "The rest aren't nearly as sexy, sadly. But they are durable, and speedster resistant."
It seemed, however, that Jean-Paul was determined to make a liar of him tonight. A cry of earnest delight almost overrode Simon's words as Jean-Paul opened the box with his new leather jacket inside. Without a word, he slid it on over his bare skin and tackled Simon to the bed.
"I think you've told a fib," he all but purred. "I have it on good authority that I am very sexy in leather."
Simon's reply was something between a yelp and a laugh as he fell back onto the bed, the sheets forgotten for the moment. "I take it that you like it?"
Jean-Paul kissed him by way of reply, pinning him down in a nest of shredded wrapping paper.
It was a great reply, and Simon melted under it, hands ghosting up over the leather, then ducking beneath to thumb Jean-Paul's sides and relish in the rush of endorphins that greeted him. He groaned happily, arching beneath his boyfriend.
"Do you want the rest of your presents?" Jean-Paul laughed against lips and began unzipping his hoodie inch by teasing inch. "Or shall I just tell you what you got later?"
"I...think the rest of the gifts can wait," Simon told him, grinning, then leaned up off the bed to catch his mouth again, each hand gripping onto the edges of the jacket, hauling Jean-Paul into him.
--------------------
The new jacket didn't come close to covering both of them, but the room was warm enough that it didn't matter. It wasn't the point anyway.
Jean-Paul stirred against Simon's back, inhaling deeply of his scent, then chuckled. "Want to go again?"
Simon's lips twitched upward in a small, satisfied smirk. He slid one hand down Jean-Paul's spine, teasing the individual ridges. "You didn't wear yourself out?"
"I've been eating and resting all day, with a break for holiday blow jobs." Jean-Paul wriggled closer. "I could do this for days."
That brought a warm chuckle to his lips. "How could I forgot that you'll likely run me into the ground before you ever break a sweat?"
"Being blissfully fucked makes you forgetful?"
Simon gave him a small shove, rolling him onto his back, stretching half over his boyfriend, nose nuzzling at his throat. "Don't be a smug ass."
Jean-Paul laughed and grappled him close. "Some days I don't think you like me even a little."
"Well, I'm told hate and love are two sides of the same coin," Simon hummed.
"Hmm." Jean-Paul arranged the jacket so that Simon was covered again. "Thanks, by the way. For coming to my rescue today."
Simon's lips curled in a smile against his skin. "You're welcome, but it was partially selfish. I've never been good at socializing in large crowds, and it's easier with you nearby."
"But I am usually good mingling with crowds. I just...couldn't get my shields to hold today for some reason."
Simon let his fingers lazily move over Jean-Paul's skin and he closed his eyes, just listening to his boyfriend's body. "Why do you think that is?"
Jean-Paul's heartbeat was slow, lulling. Like ocean waves breaking hollowly against the rocks of the shore at night.
"They feel like more of an illusion these days, maybe." Very quiet.
Simon's lazy touches ended and he curled his arm around him, squeezing him tightly. There wasn't much he could say to that, and less, anything he could do about it. He hated that this is what it had come to for Jean-Paul - desperately wanted him to have his life back again.
Jean-Paul snuggled into his hold with a sigh. "Don't be sad," he murmured. "I'm working on it, right? And you're here with me. I'll get over it."
"You don't need to get over it," Simon told him quietly, slowly loosening his grip. "We just need to find a way for you to become comfortable in a new role."
"I want to get over it," Jean-Paul insisted, lifting his head. "I've put up with so much shit and hate already, I don't want to let one more fuckhead change who I am. Or how I live or anything." He sighed and let his head hit the pillow. "I just...I need to process it, right? Like with Laura. There's not going to be someone trying to kill me around every corner. Definitely not in Raymonde's kitchen."
"I'm sorry," Simon murmured softly. "I'm not good at this."
"You can't make everything all right for me. Doesn't mean you're not good for me." Jean-Paul kissed him. "I'd say you have no idea how often I've kicked myself for complicating your life, but considering how often I bitch to you about it..." He trailed off with a grin.
"JP," Simon murmured affectionately, using the nickname he knew his boyfriend hated, but that he secretly loved, "My life was complicated before you ever insinuated yourself into it. You've made it bearable."
"But I can't make it perfect." Jean-Paul tugged his hair in gentle rebuke at the nickname. "And it doesn't make sense for you to kick yourself over the same thing, does it?"
"Less kicking," Simon smiled at the hair-tug and ran blunt nails down his side, lightly enough not to leave a mark. "More like apologizing for my inability to say the right thing."
"You're not a mind reader either." Jean-Paul hugged him tight, pinning Simon's arms to his sides. "It's OK."
Simon grunted and laughed softly. "Hey. Hey..."
"Do I win?" Jean-Paul was smirking.
"Oh, is this a competition?" Simon squirmed a hand, getting his fingers on a pressure point in Jean-Paul's wrist - just enough to send a spark of pain through his arm.
Jean-Paul cursed and pulled back, giving Simon a reproachful look. "You could have just told me to let go."
Simon arched up, catching his mouth in a deep, thorough apology kiss, one hand smoothing down his arm to soothe the nerve.
Jean-Paul grumbled against his mouth, but settled down on top of him all the same, knowing how much Simon enjoyed the feel of his weight against his body.
Knowing hands ghosted over his skin, around his hips, squeezing his ass before sliding thoughtfully up his back. "Keep it up...I love the way pouting looks on you."
"So you've told me. So you're making me miserable on purpose?"
Simon's face smoothed out in surprise, and he reached up to gently push his fingers through Jean-Paul's hair. "I would never make you miserable on purpose. I'm sorry...I was just teasing..."
"I know." Jean-Paul leaned into the touch. "Sex always puts us in a good mood, non?"
Simon huffed softly and smiled, relaxing beneath him. "Yeah. Especially when our world is about to turn upside down."
Jean-Paul breathed in deeply, folding his arms behind Simon's head. "Yeah. I'd almost forgotten about that. I suppose I get to explain how I'm in any way qualified to teach in my next interview."
"You're just a TA. High school and undergraduate students can be teaching assistants. No qualifications necessary. Now, if you're thinking of taking over the class..." Simon grinned.
"Is that the same thing as heading a mutiny?"
Simon snorted softly. "Don't even think about it."
Jean-Paul ran his foot lightly along Simon's calf. "How about you? Not about to have a breakdown on me, right? Because I'm too young to raise your sister alone."
"From what I've seen, you do a better job than me," his boyfriend scoffed. He had suspicions that the two of them were keeping secrets behind his back, but they were much more stealthy than him when it came to that sort of thing.
Taking a deep breath, he let his head sink back into the pillow, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. "I'm...understandably tense. I have no idea what's going to happen when the school is unveiled. And...admittedly, I'm terrified of what the Facility will do."
"Going public might be a good thing on that count. If we're suddenly operating at least partially in the light, they may decide we're not worth the risk of the scrutiny that would come with attacking us." Jean-Paul combed his fingers through Simon's hair soothingly.
"God, I hope you're right," Simon breathed, leaning into the touch. "River's just now starting to be comfortable with being out in public again."
"Interesting new year either way, right?" Jean-Paul was more than happy to pet Simon until he relaxed again. "I've been thinking of college again. I haven't decided on anything, so don't ask. But just...you know. Weighing my options."
Simon wanted to ask. The excitement over Jean-Paul's interest in furthering his education sped his heart just a little, but he bit his tongue and forced himself to shut it. Swallowing down his first instinct to squirm excitedly, he put a small on his face that he hoped was tame. "Weigh as much as you need to. And if you decide it's not for you, that's okay too."
"I was thinking, I should be planning for something, non? In case it gets to be safer for me to distance myself from the school. Just because we are out doesn't mean I need to give the vultures more reason to target the place."
The excitement died in his chest and Simon pushed up on an elbow. "Jean-Paul...you're not...I know you are something of a target, but you're not the only one."
"Non, but I am one of the louder ones. The Braddocks are a bigger deal, but they also keep a fairly low profile. And I'm am most certainly out." He rolled off of Simon so that they were face to face. "Don't worry to much. It's a back-up plan. I like where we are and I would prefer to stay there. And it gives more time to decide what I'm going to be if I ever decide to grow up, non?"
Simon turned to him and ran his thumb down his boyfriend's jaw. "You saved that boy from the police. You and Summers and your sister. Maybe you should just be who you are."
Jean-Paul turned his head just enough to nip the pad of Simon's thumb playfully. "For right now, I'm yours. Good enough, non?"
"It's always good enough," Simon leaned in to kiss him, relaxing into the heat of his mouth for a moment, tangling their limbs together and pulling Jean-Paul right up against him until he could breathe against his cheek. "It always will be."
Christmas was technically over by the time everyone got from Raymonde's. The early morning was freezing cold, which didn't impact Jean-Paul so very much, but left the speedster with no doubt that Simon was eager to get back up to their hotel room and finish the half bottle of wine they'd snagged from the Christmas celebration on their way out.
"Mmmm." Jean-Paul leaned up against Simon as they shut the door behind them. "You know, I never gave you your presents this morning."
Simon, still shivering a little, paused in the middle of pulling his gloves off with his teeth, said, "Huh," then slid his hands up under Jean-Paul's warm shirt and buried his face against his boyfriend's neck, attempting to burrow into the heat coming off of him. A moment later, there came a muffled, "We should do that. In a minute."
"You cannot be that cold. We only had to walk across the parking lot." Jean-Paul wrapped his arms around Simon all the same. "How did you ever survive winter before you had me, hm?"
"I lived in the South," Simon insisted into his neck, nuzzling his cold nose against it. Virginia, while at the north end of that description, was still the South he could safely proclaim. Although, to be fair, he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed it himself.
Jean-Paul kissed the top of his head. "What sounds better? Warm bed and wine or a hot shower?"
"Do I have to choose?" Simon smiled against him, but finally raised his head with a sigh. "Bed. But I'm changing clothes before we settle down to open presents."
Jean-Paul's smile widened, as if Simon had said something unintentionally amusing, but he only nodded and went to crank the room's heater. "Sounds fair enough." He changed into a pair of worn sweats and poured the wine into the plastic hotel cups, then headed to the closet for Simon's gifts.
As always, it took Simon longer to undress than his boyfriend, watching in amusement as Jean-Paul whooshed here and there as he unbuttoned his shirt, flinging it over a hanger. His shoes were discarded, along with his socks, balled up and tossed toward his suitcase. Jeans folded over a nearby chair. He pulled on a pair of dark blue sleep pants, then grabbed a warm zip-up hoodie to sling on until the heater did its job. Finally, he lifted the pile of boxes he'd brought with them out of a duffle bag and carried it over to the bed, setting it in a neat display at the end.
Jean-Paul set a trio of precisely wrapped parcels, large and small, and a thick manilla envelope down beside Simon's arrangement, then pounced onto the mattress beside him. "Tag." Jean-Paul tapped him lightly on one shoulder. "You open one first."
Simon chuckled and reached out to take the box off the top, which happened to be the smallest. The wrapping was carefully removed, as always, but he stopped when he realized the size of the box, and glanced at Jean-Paul uncertainly.
Awkward silence for a moment, as Jean-Paul tried to read Simon's expression...then he snorted and gave him a nudge. "I wouldn't put you on the spot like that, you suspicious ass." He leaned over to snag the wine from the bedside table. "Consider it a standing promise, though."
Simon lifted the box, his eyes catching sight of the ring. Picking it up in his fingers, he turned it slowly, reading the inscription as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Jean-Paul..."
A raised pattern of vines and leaves twined over the silver band, wreathing the inscription Vous et nul autre. You and no other.
Jean-Paul kissed his neck. "I would marry you in a second if you wanted to," he murmured. "But I'm not wanting for anything with what we have now. You make me happy."
Simon slipped the ring on his right hand, then turned and ducked to catch Jean-Paul's mouth with his own, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, one hand slipping up behind his neck to hold him in place.
Jean-Paul pressed into the kiss for a long, breathless heartbeat, savoring the familiar taste of him. "Mine," he murmured.
"Possessive bastard," Simon smiled before pulling away. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And, for the record, I am your possessive bastard." Jean-Paul hugged him again. "My turn now, non?" He handed Simon a cup of wine and considered the pile of presents. Unlike Jean-Paul's variably-sized parcels, Simon's were almost uniform in size and all wrapped in the same paper, giving no sense of timeline. Well, almost. Jean-Paul grinned and reached for the smallest of the lot, following Simon's lead.
Simon took a sip of the wine, leaning back and grinning as he watched. "Well, I might show my possessiveness in other ways."
Wrapping paper flew even as Simon spoke, and Jean-Paul punctuated his statement with a laugh as a handful of black, silky almost-nothing fell onto his lap. Jean-Paul held up the snug briefs, grinning. "So I see. Well, you're wearing my ring...I think it's only fair I return the favor, non?"
His boyfriend wiggled his brows. "No powers."
Jean-Paul leaned in for a kiss that turned into a nip. "I thought you would have learned by now that I'm not a cheat," he teased. He'd all but flowed to his feet in the next moment, just tipsy enough that there was no chance of any untidy self-consciousness getting in the way of Simon's view. "No powers at all, hmm?"
"Well, if you're inclined to float..." Simon laughed softly, "I won't stop you."
A moment later, Jean-Paul was a foot above the floor. He skinned his sweatpants off his hips and let gravity pull them down to his ankles before kicking them toward Simon's head. "Better?" He did a mid-air catwalk turn, letting Simon see that he hadn't been slacking in his physical training at all -- all lean muscle and sharp lines.
Simon caught the sweats in his free hand, but let his gaze rake over every inch of his boyfriend's body, a line from his lips to his toes, drinking in the taut muscle and firm ass. "I am so fucked."
"Is that what you want?" Jean-Paul drew one leg up and began sliding the boxers on. His outline barely changed, save that his cock and balls were obscured in a shadowed bulge.
His boyfriend laughed softly, but didn't take his eyes off of him. "Maybe when we're done..."
Jean-Paul's eyes all but gleamed at the possibility. "I'll keep that in mind." He landed at Simon's side again, and pushed the largest of his presents onto his lap. "And I think I have us well equipped for the possibility."
Simon raised a brow, but passed the wine back to him, briefly patting his ass in those boxers - because how could he not? - and peeled the wrapping paper back, a laugh immediately passing his lips. "I don't know. These are probably better used in our own room..."
Jean-Paul smirked triumphantly at the 1500-thread count burgundy sheets. "No desire to break them in properly in exotic Montreal?" he asked innocently.
Running his fingers over the label, Simon ran his tongue briefly over his lips. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt sheets that nice before, and the temptation to roll around on them was strong. "You...are a bastard."
"So you keep telling me." Jean-Paul crawled forward to claim his next present, giving Simon a very nice view of his sleek, barely obscured ass.
Simon's grin widened as he watched, already starting to open the package of sheets, just to get started on - and maybe to get his fingers on that material. "The rest aren't nearly as sexy, sadly. But they are durable, and speedster resistant."
It seemed, however, that Jean-Paul was determined to make a liar of him tonight. A cry of earnest delight almost overrode Simon's words as Jean-Paul opened the box with his new leather jacket inside. Without a word, he slid it on over his bare skin and tackled Simon to the bed.
"I think you've told a fib," he all but purred. "I have it on good authority that I am very sexy in leather."
Simon's reply was something between a yelp and a laugh as he fell back onto the bed, the sheets forgotten for the moment. "I take it that you like it?"
Jean-Paul kissed him by way of reply, pinning him down in a nest of shredded wrapping paper.
It was a great reply, and Simon melted under it, hands ghosting up over the leather, then ducking beneath to thumb Jean-Paul's sides and relish in the rush of endorphins that greeted him. He groaned happily, arching beneath his boyfriend.
"Do you want the rest of your presents?" Jean-Paul laughed against lips and began unzipping his hoodie inch by teasing inch. "Or shall I just tell you what you got later?"
"I...think the rest of the gifts can wait," Simon told him, grinning, then leaned up off the bed to catch his mouth again, each hand gripping onto the edges of the jacket, hauling Jean-Paul into him.
The new jacket didn't come close to covering both of them, but the room was warm enough that it didn't matter. It wasn't the point anyway.
Jean-Paul stirred against Simon's back, inhaling deeply of his scent, then chuckled. "Want to go again?"
Simon's lips twitched upward in a small, satisfied smirk. He slid one hand down Jean-Paul's spine, teasing the individual ridges. "You didn't wear yourself out?"
"I've been eating and resting all day, with a break for holiday blow jobs." Jean-Paul wriggled closer. "I could do this for days."
That brought a warm chuckle to his lips. "How could I forgot that you'll likely run me into the ground before you ever break a sweat?"
"Being blissfully fucked makes you forgetful?"
Simon gave him a small shove, rolling him onto his back, stretching half over his boyfriend, nose nuzzling at his throat. "Don't be a smug ass."
Jean-Paul laughed and grappled him close. "Some days I don't think you like me even a little."
"Well, I'm told hate and love are two sides of the same coin," Simon hummed.
"Hmm." Jean-Paul arranged the jacket so that Simon was covered again. "Thanks, by the way. For coming to my rescue today."
Simon's lips curled in a smile against his skin. "You're welcome, but it was partially selfish. I've never been good at socializing in large crowds, and it's easier with you nearby."
"But I am usually good mingling with crowds. I just...couldn't get my shields to hold today for some reason."
Simon let his fingers lazily move over Jean-Paul's skin and he closed his eyes, just listening to his boyfriend's body. "Why do you think that is?"
Jean-Paul's heartbeat was slow, lulling. Like ocean waves breaking hollowly against the rocks of the shore at night.
"They feel like more of an illusion these days, maybe." Very quiet.
Simon's lazy touches ended and he curled his arm around him, squeezing him tightly. There wasn't much he could say to that, and less, anything he could do about it. He hated that this is what it had come to for Jean-Paul - desperately wanted him to have his life back again.
Jean-Paul snuggled into his hold with a sigh. "Don't be sad," he murmured. "I'm working on it, right? And you're here with me. I'll get over it."
"You don't need to get over it," Simon told him quietly, slowly loosening his grip. "We just need to find a way for you to become comfortable in a new role."
"I want to get over it," Jean-Paul insisted, lifting his head. "I've put up with so much shit and hate already, I don't want to let one more fuckhead change who I am. Or how I live or anything." He sighed and let his head hit the pillow. "I just...I need to process it, right? Like with Laura. There's not going to be someone trying to kill me around every corner. Definitely not in Raymonde's kitchen."
"I'm sorry," Simon murmured softly. "I'm not good at this."
"You can't make everything all right for me. Doesn't mean you're not good for me." Jean-Paul kissed him. "I'd say you have no idea how often I've kicked myself for complicating your life, but considering how often I bitch to you about it..." He trailed off with a grin.
"JP," Simon murmured affectionately, using the nickname he knew his boyfriend hated, but that he secretly loved, "My life was complicated before you ever insinuated yourself into it. You've made it bearable."
"But I can't make it perfect." Jean-Paul tugged his hair in gentle rebuke at the nickname. "And it doesn't make sense for you to kick yourself over the same thing, does it?"
"Less kicking," Simon smiled at the hair-tug and ran blunt nails down his side, lightly enough not to leave a mark. "More like apologizing for my inability to say the right thing."
"You're not a mind reader either." Jean-Paul hugged him tight, pinning Simon's arms to his sides. "It's OK."
Simon grunted and laughed softly. "Hey. Hey..."
"Do I win?" Jean-Paul was smirking.
"Oh, is this a competition?" Simon squirmed a hand, getting his fingers on a pressure point in Jean-Paul's wrist - just enough to send a spark of pain through his arm.
Jean-Paul cursed and pulled back, giving Simon a reproachful look. "You could have just told me to let go."
Simon arched up, catching his mouth in a deep, thorough apology kiss, one hand smoothing down his arm to soothe the nerve.
Jean-Paul grumbled against his mouth, but settled down on top of him all the same, knowing how much Simon enjoyed the feel of his weight against his body.
Knowing hands ghosted over his skin, around his hips, squeezing his ass before sliding thoughtfully up his back. "Keep it up...I love the way pouting looks on you."
"So you've told me. So you're making me miserable on purpose?"
Simon's face smoothed out in surprise, and he reached up to gently push his fingers through Jean-Paul's hair. "I would never make you miserable on purpose. I'm sorry...I was just teasing..."
"I know." Jean-Paul leaned into the touch. "Sex always puts us in a good mood, non?"
Simon huffed softly and smiled, relaxing beneath him. "Yeah. Especially when our world is about to turn upside down."
Jean-Paul breathed in deeply, folding his arms behind Simon's head. "Yeah. I'd almost forgotten about that. I suppose I get to explain how I'm in any way qualified to teach in my next interview."
"You're just a TA. High school and undergraduate students can be teaching assistants. No qualifications necessary. Now, if you're thinking of taking over the class..." Simon grinned.
"Is that the same thing as heading a mutiny?"
Simon snorted softly. "Don't even think about it."
Jean-Paul ran his foot lightly along Simon's calf. "How about you? Not about to have a breakdown on me, right? Because I'm too young to raise your sister alone."
"From what I've seen, you do a better job than me," his boyfriend scoffed. He had suspicions that the two of them were keeping secrets behind his back, but they were much more stealthy than him when it came to that sort of thing.
Taking a deep breath, he let his head sink back into the pillow, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. "I'm...understandably tense. I have no idea what's going to happen when the school is unveiled. And...admittedly, I'm terrified of what the Facility will do."
"Going public might be a good thing on that count. If we're suddenly operating at least partially in the light, they may decide we're not worth the risk of the scrutiny that would come with attacking us." Jean-Paul combed his fingers through Simon's hair soothingly.
"God, I hope you're right," Simon breathed, leaning into the touch. "River's just now starting to be comfortable with being out in public again."
"Interesting new year either way, right?" Jean-Paul was more than happy to pet Simon until he relaxed again. "I've been thinking of college again. I haven't decided on anything, so don't ask. But just...you know. Weighing my options."
Simon wanted to ask. The excitement over Jean-Paul's interest in furthering his education sped his heart just a little, but he bit his tongue and forced himself to shut it. Swallowing down his first instinct to squirm excitedly, he put a small on his face that he hoped was tame. "Weigh as much as you need to. And if you decide it's not for you, that's okay too."
"I was thinking, I should be planning for something, non? In case it gets to be safer for me to distance myself from the school. Just because we are out doesn't mean I need to give the vultures more reason to target the place."
The excitement died in his chest and Simon pushed up on an elbow. "Jean-Paul...you're not...I know you are something of a target, but you're not the only one."
"Non, but I am one of the louder ones. The Braddocks are a bigger deal, but they also keep a fairly low profile. And I'm am most certainly out." He rolled off of Simon so that they were face to face. "Don't worry to much. It's a back-up plan. I like where we are and I would prefer to stay there. And it gives more time to decide what I'm going to be if I ever decide to grow up, non?"
Simon turned to him and ran his thumb down his boyfriend's jaw. "You saved that boy from the police. You and Summers and your sister. Maybe you should just be who you are."
Jean-Paul turned his head just enough to nip the pad of Simon's thumb playfully. "For right now, I'm yours. Good enough, non?"
"It's always good enough," Simon leaned in to kiss him, relaxing into the heat of his mouth for a moment, tangling their limbs together and pulling Jean-Paul right up against him until he could breathe against his cheek. "It always will be."
