[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.]
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no subject
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.