[Her own fingers find a way to his neck, toying with his hair strands. But he's right to assume that she probably wouldn't like it. In fact, she's not sure if she even really enjoys other games and kinks that much. She's never taken part to them for herself. It's all been just business to her before.
When the hem of her dress is lifted up, J slides closer and moves to straddle him. With Peter it's different, she thinks. She believes anything could be fun with him -- even the things she didn't like because in the end it comes down to one thing.] I like whatever you like.
[It's cheeky and as true as one could call the sea damp. It's all easy to push aside, forgot about, the closer she gets and the more skin his wandering hands reveal. It comes back to him later, when the sweat's cooled and the small talk has idled out to the heavy breaths he knows signals sleep. In the safe bubble of darkness and satisfaction, thinking she's closer to dreaming than awake, Peter finds an ounce of courage.]
It's not like, I think. [He's whispering, half expecting she won't hear or won't remember. But she might, and he's not nearly so afraid of that as he once was.] I haven't liked you for a while.
[Hours have passed and the music has quieted down a good while ago. With her eyes half lidded she listens his heavy yet silent breath, lazily stroking her finger across his shoulder in the rhythm. She's close to letting sleep claim her and while it'd be tempting to fall asleep here like this, she wants to stay awake with him just a little longer. It's such a sappy thought that it ought to make her feel disgusted, but instead, right now, she laughs quietly to herself.
His words reach her ears but don't register right away and she'll first answer him with a slow murmur and presses a light kiss on his skin. Then after a moment she whispers back to him:]
[The drag of her fingers is slow, slow, slow against his skin and he focuses on that rather than turn to see her face. An ounce of courage isn't true bravery, maybe, because he doesn't think he can do this while seeing the shine of her eyes in the darkness. But he pulls her closer anyway, the dichotomy of fearing her reaction but needing her near by, skin to skin.]
Not like. [He murmurs, wetting his lips and taking a second. Or two. Or three, letting time stretch while he pushes past his rising heartbeat.] It's more love, maybe.
[He holds his breath in the second after, expecting a weighted fear to crush down on his chest. It doesn't come, even if he can still feel pounding in her ears. Mostly he feels like laughing, anxious but freed by truth.]
[It's good that he decided to do this now and not earlier when they were in the halfway or in middle of room swaying along the music. Now that they're both tired and boneless she doesn't have it in her to fight back or resist when he pulls her closer. Instead she finds a place next to him, eyes focusing on the skin she rests her forehead under his jaw. It's good that they lie like this because she doesn't know if she wants to see his eyes either.
But the confession doesn't to her as big surprise as he probably thinks. She's had a hunch about the true nature of his feelings ever since their talk back in the cold cave. He had given her lot to think about and she's not sure if that's a good thing or not. And just like back then, a heavy and warm bile appears to her throat.]
Why? [That's all she can think of saying to this. J's sure he knows what she thinks of this kind of affection.]
[He expects a thousand things to come out of her mouth and a thousand more to be spoken by action. She'll kick him out. Laugh at him. Deny him. Reject him. Manipulation, tease, close herself off.
This he does not expect, though perhaps he should have. Subverting his expectations was always what she did best.]
After everything you have to ask why?
[He's not sure what the feeling is rising in his gut. Offense? How could he not, after everything they'd been through. In those rare times he didn't lie to himself, he could almost imagine this as an inevitability. So much time, energy and emotion he'd put into her, something was bound to give. It came in the first wave of wanting her, then in needing to protect her. And then it shifted and twisted until something warm began to outweigh the guilt.
He squeezes his eyes shut, sees stars among the darkness. He's glad she hasn't forced this to be face to face but part of him doesn't understand what her staying with him means.]
You make me want to make you happy. You're the most important person I know after my sisters. You confuse me and push me away and I keep coming back. Why not, J?
Heh. [There's a quiet and shy laughter against his bare skin. Of course Peter says it's like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he doesn't see the problems in this and in her even after all warnings. He's always been so hopeful and naive.
The light contrasting her darkness, if one wanted to be poetic about it. Not that Peter didn't come with his own demons also.
But it'st that certainty which makes J's chest feel heavier and ears burn from nervousness.]
I told you why not. Remember? Back in the cave. You shouldn't trust me.
[He remembers that. A pit threatens to form back into his stomach at the thought. Sitting beside her in that cave had been heartbreaking in a way he didn't have words to describe, not at the time. She'd been trying to push him away, same as he can feel her trying to do now. then it had been physically, a complete cut off. Now it's their emotional connection, trying to cut off his feelings. His answer now is the same as it was then.]
So? I do anyway. Nothing you've ever said, nothing you've ever did has kept me from trusting you.
[He'd kept coming back, time and time again. He'd taken everything she had to throw at him and still kept finding himself in her room at night. Still watching her, still wanting her. Not even her attempt to break things off had been enough to stop them from falling back into orbit.
If she didn't want his trust, if some part of her didn't know how things would turn out, why would she let him back in? He had to believe that despite what she said, she knew him too well to believe it.]
And none of it was enough to stop this either. You can't stop me from wanting to be, you know, in love with you. That's my choice.
[He's right and that's what scares her. There have been times when they've fall apart and stranded away from each other, either because of their own foolishness or because of misfortunes that the universe kept throwing their way. But always they ended up finding each other again. Even when she had tried to sever their ties back in the cave in order to protect herself from this fear but still she hadn't hesitate to look out for him again. Guess she was already deeply addicted to him.
But there was still so much he didn't know. About her and what all she's done, which some she's sure will hurt him. Would he be able to withstand that hurt?]
For a very long time I've been in love... [She starts, her voice small and silent like a child who's afraid of dark. She keeps a silent break and closes her eyes. She can't be sure when was last time she had visited this memory this thoroughly. Usually just a thought of it alone was enough to bring up the wounds.] With someone else. He liked me, too. I think. But then he found out what happened with my daddy and. Well. It was enough to put him off. It's not very sexy thought is it? But in the end I'm sure that's not the only thing that went wrong. I just don't know if the problem was me being a man. Or that I was a girl.
[She pauses again. Her mind is weighted by the memory of cold, distant eyes and uneasy voice: "It's not your fault you're like this." Even still to this day, she's not sure what Paul had meant by it.]
[There's a moment when she starts that his heart stops. It's not out of fear or dread, but a stupid seed of hope. He knows better than to think she'd starting a story about him, that's not the tone of voice of someone taking about the present. Peter knows better about a lot of things. Setting himself up for disappointment is practically a second mutation.
At least he's quick enough to smooth out the frown before it's half formed.
He thinks about interrupting her, swearing that whatever guy she loved before was stupid to hurt her. That man couldn't understand what he's missing. He was worthless if he couldn't see she was worth staying for. But J's not looking for Peter's posturing. It's a serious, solemn thing she's after.]
You. I like you. It's not about any of that for me.
[If she'd been a guy, maybe he would have been more hesitant at first. But that would have been about him, his own insecurities of growing up in the 60s, already being someone that stuck out in middle class suburbia. Billy had disbursed those notions real quick. He'd still like to think, whether true or not, they'd still have ended up together after all that happened.]
You're not what happened to you, J. Or how you were born. I'm not, so why would you be? [He was the son of a terrorist, a mutant freak, an attempted murderer now. The past, genetics, it couldn't be all they were.] J, I'm not that other guy. I'm not leaving.
[Of course he'd say that. How foolish of her to think that it really mattered to him. But just how much that is actually from goodness of his heart, feelings of love or whatever he was sprouting now. And just how much of is that out from his ignorance. He possibly couldn't know what she's talking about.
But he understands, doesn't he? J remembers the anti-mutant posters from his world, the public hate and fear. It's been a long time since she's met someone else who knows the loneliness of survival. And for now, that's more than enough.
Slowly, she pulls back from their embrace but not far. Supporting her weight on her elbows she looms over him.]
Just when did you became like this? It almost makes me wonder if you've done something to real Peter. [She can remember how he had looked like back in the mess hall: nervous and burning red, barely able to look her in the eye and speak out word "kiss." Just when had he grew up to be so smart?
Then, after swallowing empty air she leans in little closer and whispers very quietly as if she was afraid of walls listening to their secret:]
[The momentary fear he has of her movement is assured when she speaks. If she's back to teasing him, things must be falling back into routine. Or maybe becoming better than before. There's nothing cruel in her voice, nothing mocking despite the words. As long as she remains fond, he can be at ease.]
Am I not real enough for you?
[He reaches a hand to touch her cheek, trace the curve down to her lips.]
A lot has changed since I got here. Maybe I did too.
[And maybe J, as well.
He's never heard her be so sentimental before, not where he is concerned and not about anyone else either. He's never heard her voice so soft. He's never heard her say something so sweet. And he knows there must have been a time in his life when he's felt so happy, but he's having a hard time remembering when.
Peter smiles at her like a man first seeing a sunrise, amazed in its presence.]
That's all I want. To make you happy. That's all.
[He won't press for anything more. This is enough. She's enough. Maybe that was the point of love, to make everything but another's happiness seem to meaningless.
He leans up to kiss her neck, her jawline, her cheek.]
[He is real. More real than anyone else she's met. This, the feelings of affection or love whatever has bloomed, is more real than what she's felt before. There had been few passing moments in the past between them when she's had quick taste of this. Back during their little secret picnic in the garden there had been a fleeting thought in the back of her mind telling her to let go of everything else and dive into this. Take a chance with him and have something real.
But then there had been a fight that ruined everything. And then they made up until the next sore issue was revealed. All according to their routine, just like now.
This is the second time the opportunity for something she's wanted, yet denied from herself, all her life. Only on a more trustworthy base than before. Peter's not only one finding the courage sparking in the darkness. Her free hand finds a way to rest on his shoulder, then moving up to back of his neck as her own lips touch the skin under his eye and temple.]
Does that make you happy?
[Probably unnecessary question at this point. But she needs to be sure about this. Whether they really are able to make each other happy.]
[He moves a hand through her hair, rubbing locks between his finger tips. She's always so soft, like the silk and velvet his mother kept in her closet. It betrayed how sharp she was underneath, hard as steel.
He touches the back of her shoulder as she kisses him, sighing softly. He nods slightly, nose grazing her cheek. He tilts his head further, kissing the corner of her mouth again and then again before he settles back against the mattress again.]
Yeah.
[His voice is low, the word rumbles out of his chest. The smile on Peter's face is small and soft, the look in his eyes saying he can't believe how lucky he is. He closes his eyes slowly, pulling her close.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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In that case you'll need to tie me up first. [She's joking. Mostly at least.]
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[He grins, eyes slipping shut the closer she gets. There's laughter humming in his chest, hands slipping up her sides and rucking cloth up with them.]
Didn't take you for the type to like rope burns, J.
fade forward next?
[Her own fingers find a way to his neck, toying with his hair strands. But he's right to assume that she probably wouldn't like it. In fact, she's not sure if she even really enjoys other games and kinks that much. She's never taken part to them for herself. It's all been just business to her before.
When the hem of her dress is lifted up, J slides closer and moves to straddle him. With Peter it's different, she thinks. She believes anything could be fun with him -- even the things she didn't like because in the end it comes down to one thing.] I like whatever you like.
o7
[It's cheeky and as true as one could call the sea damp. It's all easy to push aside, forgot about, the closer she gets and the more skin his wandering hands reveal. It comes back to him later, when the sweat's cooled and the small talk has idled out to the heavy breaths he knows signals sleep. In the safe bubble of darkness and satisfaction, thinking she's closer to dreaming than awake, Peter finds an ounce of courage.]
It's not like, I think. [He's whispering, half expecting she won't hear or won't remember. But she might, and he's not nearly so afraid of that as he once was.] I haven't liked you for a while.
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His words reach her ears but don't register right away and she'll first answer him with a slow murmur and presses a light kiss on his skin. Then after a moment she whispers back to him:]
What is it, then?
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Not like. [He murmurs, wetting his lips and taking a second. Or two. Or three, letting time stretch while he pushes past his rising heartbeat.] It's more love, maybe.
[He holds his breath in the second after, expecting a weighted fear to crush down on his chest. It doesn't come, even if he can still feel pounding in her ears. Mostly he feels like laughing, anxious but freed by truth.]
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But the confession doesn't to her as big surprise as he probably thinks. She's had a hunch about the true nature of his feelings ever since their talk back in the cold cave. He had given her lot to think about and she's not sure if that's a good thing or not. And just like back then, a heavy and warm bile appears to her throat.]
Why? [That's all she can think of saying to this. J's sure he knows what she thinks of this kind of affection.]
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This he does not expect, though perhaps he should have. Subverting his expectations was always what she did best.]
After everything you have to ask why?
[He's not sure what the feeling is rising in his gut. Offense? How could he not, after everything they'd been through. In those rare times he didn't lie to himself, he could almost imagine this as an inevitability. So much time, energy and emotion he'd put into her, something was bound to give. It came in the first wave of wanting her, then in needing to protect her. And then it shifted and twisted until something warm began to outweigh the guilt.
He squeezes his eyes shut, sees stars among the darkness. He's glad she hasn't forced this to be face to face but part of him doesn't understand what her staying with him means.]
You make me want to make you happy. You're the most important person I know after my sisters. You confuse me and push me away and I keep coming back. Why not, J?
no subject
The light contrasting her darkness, if one wanted to be poetic about it. Not that Peter didn't come with his own demons also.
But it'st that certainty which makes J's chest feel heavier and ears burn from nervousness.]
I told you why not. Remember? Back in the cave. You shouldn't trust me.
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So? I do anyway. Nothing you've ever said, nothing you've ever did has kept me from trusting you.
[He'd kept coming back, time and time again. He'd taken everything she had to throw at him and still kept finding himself in her room at night. Still watching her, still wanting her. Not even her attempt to break things off had been enough to stop them from falling back into orbit.
If she didn't want his trust, if some part of her didn't know how things would turn out, why would she let him back in? He had to believe that despite what she said, she knew him too well to believe it.]
And none of it was enough to stop this either. You can't stop me from wanting to be, you know, in love with you. That's my choice.
no subject
But there was still so much he didn't know. About her and what all she's done, which some she's sure will hurt him. Would he be able to withstand that hurt?]
For a very long time I've been in love... [She starts, her voice small and silent like a child who's afraid of dark. She keeps a silent break and closes her eyes. She can't be sure when was last time she had visited this memory this thoroughly. Usually just a thought of it alone was enough to bring up the wounds.] With someone else. He liked me, too. I think. But then he found out what happened with my daddy and. Well. It was enough to put him off. It's not very sexy thought is it? But in the end I'm sure that's not the only thing that went wrong. I just don't know if the problem was me being a man. Or that I was a girl.
[She pauses again. Her mind is weighted by the memory of cold, distant eyes and uneasy voice: "It's not your fault you're like this." Even still to this day, she's not sure what Paul had meant by it.]
Which one it's that you like?
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At least he's quick enough to smooth out the frown before it's half formed.
He thinks about interrupting her, swearing that whatever guy she loved before was stupid to hurt her. That man couldn't understand what he's missing. He was worthless if he couldn't see she was worth staying for. But J's not looking for Peter's posturing. It's a serious, solemn thing she's after.]
You. I like you. It's not about any of that for me.
[If she'd been a guy, maybe he would have been more hesitant at first. But that would have been about him, his own insecurities of growing up in the 60s, already being someone that stuck out in middle class suburbia. Billy had disbursed those notions real quick. He'd still like to think, whether true or not, they'd still have ended up together after all that happened.]
You're not what happened to you, J. Or how you were born. I'm not, so why would you be? [He was the son of a terrorist, a mutant freak, an attempted murderer now. The past, genetics, it couldn't be all they were.] J, I'm not that other guy. I'm not leaving.
I'm terribly sorry for late reply!
But he understands, doesn't he? J remembers the anti-mutant posters from his world, the public hate and fear. It's been a long time since she's met someone else who knows the loneliness of survival. And for now, that's more than enough.
Slowly, she pulls back from their embrace but not far. Supporting her weight on her elbows she looms over him.]
Just when did you became like this? It almost makes me wonder if you've done something to real Peter. [She can remember how he had looked like back in the mess hall: nervous and burning red, barely able to look her in the eye and speak out word "kiss." Just when had he grew up to be so smart?
Then, after swallowing empty air she leans in little closer and whispers very quietly as if she was afraid of walls listening to their secret:]
You make me happy.
As am I!
Am I not real enough for you?
[He reaches a hand to touch her cheek, trace the curve down to her lips.]
A lot has changed since I got here. Maybe I did too.
[And maybe J, as well.
He's never heard her be so sentimental before, not where he is concerned and not about anyone else either. He's never heard her voice so soft. He's never heard her say something so sweet. And he knows there must have been a time in his life when he's felt so happy, but he's having a hard time remembering when.
Peter smiles at her like a man first seeing a sunrise, amazed in its presence.]
That's all I want. To make you happy. That's all.
[He won't press for anything more. This is enough. She's enough. Maybe that was the point of love, to make everything but another's happiness seem to meaningless.
He leans up to kiss her neck, her jawline, her cheek.]
Let me keep making you happy, then.
no subject
But then there had been a fight that ruined everything. And then they made up until the next sore issue was revealed. All according to their routine, just like now.
This is the second time the opportunity for something she's wanted, yet denied from herself, all her life. Only on a more trustworthy base than before. Peter's not only one finding the courage sparking in the darkness. Her free hand finds a way to rest on his shoulder, then moving up to back of his neck as her own lips touch the skin under his eye and temple.]
Does that make you happy?
[Probably unnecessary question at this point. But she needs to be sure about this. Whether they really are able to make each other happy.]
no subject
He touches the back of her shoulder as she kisses him, sighing softly. He nods slightly, nose grazing her cheek. He tilts his head further, kissing the corner of her mouth again and then again before he settles back against the mattress again.]
Yeah.
[His voice is low, the word rumbles out of his chest. The smile on Peter's face is small and soft, the look in his eyes saying he can't believe how lucky he is. He closes his eyes slowly, pulling her close.]
You make me happy.