"It's... good. It's good that he's ok. Or. You know. Breathing at least." It's not exactly a realization that should take as much uncertainty as it seems to plague him with. "I'm not sure if I should feel less guilty about it. 'Cause I don't."
"We? Mutants?" Even if there are a couple of names on there who probably the kind of people you want in charge of a nation the whole idea sounds like a nightmare on repeat. They've done this before. People ended up dead.
"And..." He looks expectant of something. The last time they talked about Kyle, Jean-Paul didn't love the idea of willfully engaging in some kind of adultery. Resurrections and high councils aside, the thing that makes him worry for their future is anything that might have changed Jean-Paul's mind about life as they know it here. "Does that... change this?"
"Breathing all over anything attractive," Jean-Paul snorts. "You shouldn't feel guilty at all, Logan."
He nods. "It's not like Utopia. But... well. You know me, I'm not an optimist. But it's a lot better."
Jean-Paul sets his beer aside so that he can take Logan's face in his hands. "I remember everything that's happened here," he says softly. "I remember every moment I've spent wit' you. The forget-me-nots and the poetry and the fantastic sex." He leans in and kisses Logan firmly on the mouth.
"I feel a little weird, sure. But if anything has changed, I hope it's for the better. I've learned more about what love takes." He smiles. "Just forgive me if I start to yell at the wrong man for leaving his shoes out?"
He winces at the speed at which Jean-Paul assumes the best of him. He takes long drink and fixes his eyes on the bottle like there's something there worth scrutinizing. "I'm the one who took his life, Johnny. I'll always feel guilty for that."
Jean-Paul's right. He's not an optimist. But that's what makes his remarks all the more interesting. It's hard not to be hopeful that they've maybe finally learned from their own mistakes. Yet, it's hard to picture what that looks like without seeing it for himself.
With his attention swept up in Jean-Paul's hands, that glib but not in the least bit inaccurate assessment of their time together here turns him bashful. Though it's not often he's on the receiving end of such tender reassurances— because it's not often he locks his pride far enough away to permit himself to request them— not even his best attempt at casual can hide the joy and relief of knowing what they found here is at least as real as the places they used to call home.
Reaching around blindly to abandon his own drink without spilling it, he doesn't hesitate to gather Jean-Paul up in his arms. "Darlin', you can yell at me for anything you want so long as yer not goin' anywhere."
There really isn't anything to say to that - in Logan's place, he'd feel the same. Instead Jean-Paul just nods. "Well... he's doing good now." It may or not matter, but he believes it to be true. "Aside from not seeming to know what a fucking shirt is."
Jean-Paul kisses Logan again. He feels a momentary pang the second before his mouth opens - until a few days ago, he'd been used to kissing another man entirely. But as his lips part he is relieved to find Logan still feels like home and his hands move naturally to run through his hair, relearning the texture.
He breaks the kiss to bump his forehead against Logan's. "I feel like I've been gone forever, but you still taste exactly how I remembered."
It's not the kind of confession he expects anyone would know what to do with. Himself least of all. But knowing the boy isn't just alive again, he's actually better in some ways, provokes a strange sort of solace he'll spend no small amount of time thinking about.
The blurry vision of the other man at the end of his nose is a comfort he didn't know he'd been craving. Waking up to the image of the other man too close to be in focus has turned into a habit he's not prepared to quit. "Nothing's changed. Nothing that matters. I missed you." His parted lips graze Jean-Paul's just long enough to stoke his sense of anticipation before he caves for the taste of him. "I thought this place was really gonna take you from me this time."
"I must have come back for all of you," Jean-Paul replies. He kisses Logan again, over and over, until he finally pulls away enough to see Logan's eyes.
"I know for a fact that the heart remembers things that the mind forgets. I have proof of that." He wonders how much the ghost of his husband will haunt him from this moment on.
His eyes close in the glow of Jean-Paul's attention. There's a kind of being wanted that's hard to come by. It's as necessary to the heart as sunlight to the leaves but, in Logan's experience, it can't be found by asking for it or chasing after it. So when he does come across it, it's all he can do to balance his desire to drink it in with the composure it takes to keep from looking starved for it.
"What kinds of things?" he asks, even as he lets himself imagine, he still wants to know what they are for Jean-Paul. What of this place he was able to hang onto while he was away. And what of everything he had there that's weighing on him now.
"You better not. I need you. You're special t'me, you know? I'm always trying to... make changes. Do better." If he looks sheepish it's because trying is the operative word there. "There's not a lot of choices in life you never wonder about makin' right. But you've felt like I must be doin' something right since the start.'
"The shapes of people," Jean-Paul says after some thought. "You wake up in the middle of the night and you reach over expecting a form, but it's not there. You can't consciously remember who you're missing, but you know there's someone."
He curls closer. "I understand. That's why I came to the apartment, to figure out how to be better. Which I have, although not in the way I was expecting." He inhales slowly. "You do right by me."
"Oh. Yeah. I know that feeling." With a sigh he opens his arms to invite Jean-Paul closer until the younger man's weight rests against him. "Sometimes I never figure out who it is. I just figure it's one of the missing bits."
Putting his feet up on the coffee table he sinks lower into the couch and lets his fingers piece idly at Jean-Paul's hair. Despite his reputation for being less than conversational, he does like hearing his partner's talk. "What were you expecting? Before your little trip home."
Logan in uniquely suited to any discussion of memory loss, of being forced into a life you didn't ask for. Jean-Paul knows he'll have to talk to him about it again soon, but for the moment he's content to melt against him instead.
"I was expecting a lot of introspection," he says, vaguely amused. "A lot of stern self talking tos. Then probably a lot of awkward conversations before I'd finally come home." Already the cabon is 'home.' "At least I got the last part right."
When Jean-Paul relaxes Logan smiles into his hair. Planting a kiss against the younger man's temple. It's all uncharacteristically doting to anyone who's never been this close to him, but the man undeniably loves being the thing his partner's come to rest against.
"Heh, you sound pretty introspective to me too," he smiles to hear the man consider this place here home. "And calm. Like. Weirdly calm for you. Which, I mean, I'm takin' for a good thing, but if you're high or something you better tell me before I start wondering if I'm taking advantage of you or something here."
Jean-Paul snorts and swats Logan's arm lightly. Apparently, some things never change. "Oh, like I'm a fucking spazz most of the time?" He nestles back even closer somehow. "Non, I'm not high. I got painfully drunk the other day but that was then. And you're hardly taking advantage, I'm still dressed."
He points at Jean-Paul with intently narrow eyes as if to point out the reactionary nature of that very remark as some kind of point in case. "Your words not mine, bub. I woulda said somethin' nice. Like anxious."
If he was so recently drunk and Logan can't smell it on him, he has to imagine the man must have somewhat recently showered. And as if to test that theory he drinks in the smell of him with his nose all but buried in Jean-Paul's hair. "You think I needta get your clothes off to do somethin' dirty t'you?"
His chuckling rumbles against Jean-Paul's ear before he takes a gentle little bite of the pointed top. "Love you too, darlin'," he murmurs like it's the worst kept secret ever.
"Speakin' of clothes. You or Kurt gonna help me figure out how to dress for this... wedding thing."
Jean-Paul whines, not having any words the second those teeth meet his ear. He hugs Logan tightly.
"I'd like that," he says." "Chrisse, that's soon. I'll have to coordinate wit' Kurt so we can make sure it's all decorated..." His mind is already trying to seize on details. "Ouais, yes, I'll dress you. You'll look gorgeous."
He sighs again. "It's not that I don't want to be there, I just... was trying to figure it all out," Jean-Paul finishes lamely. "Which is impossible. I do want to come back, I do. I'm just scared to."
"I know I'm a hypocrite to say it, Johnny. But you don't have to figure everything out alone, yuh know?" It's not just an invitation to come home when he wants to, but an invitation to say whatever's keeping him away.
When he says things like that it puts a little pang of fear in Logan chest. Not quite enough to inspire a fight or flight response, but enough to make Logan have to remind himself no one he's never held on to anyone he tried to hold too tightly.
Jean-Paul shrugs. "I don't know. To me, I feel the same, I feel like me. But we don't notice our own changes much, do we? So I worry I'll go home and the guys will... I guess think I'm different in a bad way."
The thought of showing someone you're not who they think you are conjures up a few recent memories still raw enough for Logan that he can't rush to placate those concerns.
With a sigh he squeezes the man protectively. "I know it's not easy to tell somebody you've changed. Or even that you're just... tryna be different... Give them some time to get to know you again. I'm pretty sure the guy we love is still right here."
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"We? Mutants?" Even if there are a couple of names on there who probably the kind of people you want in charge of a nation the whole idea sounds like a nightmare on repeat. They've done this before. People ended up dead.
"And..." He looks expectant of something. The last time they talked about Kyle, Jean-Paul didn't love the idea of willfully engaging in some kind of adultery. Resurrections and high councils aside, the thing that makes him worry for their future is anything that might have changed Jean-Paul's mind about life as they know it here. "Does that... change this?"
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He nods. "It's not like Utopia. But... well. You know me, I'm not an optimist. But it's a lot better."
Jean-Paul sets his beer aside so that he can take Logan's face in his hands. "I remember everything that's happened here," he says softly. "I remember every moment I've spent wit' you. The forget-me-nots and the poetry and the fantastic sex." He leans in and kisses Logan firmly on the mouth.
"I feel a little weird, sure. But if anything has changed, I hope it's for the better. I've learned more about what love takes." He smiles. "Just forgive me if I start to yell at the wrong man for leaving his shoes out?"
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Jean-Paul's right. He's not an optimist. But that's what makes his remarks all the more interesting. It's hard not to be hopeful that they've maybe finally learned from their own mistakes. Yet, it's hard to picture what that looks like without seeing it for himself.
With his attention swept up in Jean-Paul's hands, that glib but not in the least bit inaccurate assessment of their time together here turns him bashful. Though it's not often he's on the receiving end of such tender reassurances— because it's not often he locks his pride far enough away to permit himself to request them— not even his best attempt at casual can hide the joy and relief of knowing what they found here is at least as real as the places they used to call home.
Reaching around blindly to abandon his own drink without spilling it, he doesn't hesitate to gather Jean-Paul up in his arms. "Darlin', you can yell at me for anything you want so long as yer not goin' anywhere."
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Jean-Paul kisses Logan again. He feels a momentary pang the second before his mouth opens - until a few days ago, he'd been used to kissing another man entirely. But as his lips part he is relieved to find Logan still feels like home and his hands move naturally to run through his hair, relearning the texture.
He breaks the kiss to bump his forehead against Logan's. "I feel like I've been gone forever, but you still taste exactly how I remembered."
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The blurry vision of the other man at the end of his nose is a comfort he didn't know he'd been craving. Waking up to the image of the other man too close to be in focus has turned into a habit he's not prepared to quit. "Nothing's changed. Nothing that matters. I missed you." His parted lips graze Jean-Paul's just long enough to stoke his sense of anticipation before he caves for the taste of him. "I thought this place was really gonna take you from me this time."
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"I know for a fact that the heart remembers things that the mind forgets. I have proof of that." He wonders how much the ghost of his husband will haunt him from this moment on.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
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"What kinds of things?" he asks, even as he lets himself imagine, he still wants to know what they are for Jean-Paul. What of this place he was able to hang onto while he was away. And what of everything he had there that's weighing on him now.
"You better not. I need you. You're special t'me, you know? I'm always trying to... make changes. Do better." If he looks sheepish it's because trying is the operative word there. "There's not a lot of choices in life you never wonder about makin' right. But you've felt like I must be doin' something right since the start.'
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He curls closer. "I understand. That's why I came to the apartment, to figure out how to be better. Which I have, although not in the way I was expecting." He inhales slowly. "You do right by me."
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Putting his feet up on the coffee table he sinks lower into the couch and lets his fingers piece idly at Jean-Paul's hair. Despite his reputation for being less than conversational, he does like hearing his partner's talk. "What were you expecting? Before your little trip home."
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"I was expecting a lot of introspection," he says, vaguely amused. "A lot of stern self talking tos. Then probably a lot of awkward conversations before I'd finally come home." Already the cabon is 'home.' "At least I got the last part right."
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"Heh, you sound pretty introspective to me too," he smiles to hear the man consider this place here home. "And calm. Like. Weirdly calm for you. Which, I mean, I'm takin' for a good thing, but if you're high or something you better tell me before I start wondering if I'm taking advantage of you or something here."
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If he was so recently drunk and Logan can't smell it on him, he has to imagine the man must have somewhat recently showered. And as if to test that theory he drinks in the smell of him with his nose all but buried in Jean-Paul's hair. "You think I needta get your clothes off to do somethin' dirty t'you?"
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He has to smile - he's being sniffed and it's weird that it feels so comfortable. "Okay, point. You're depraved, no wonder I love you."
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His chuckling rumbles against Jean-Paul's ear before he takes a gentle little bite of the pointed top. "Love you too, darlin'," he murmurs like it's the worst kept secret ever.
"Speakin' of clothes. You or Kurt gonna help me figure out how to dress for this... wedding thing."
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"I'd like that," he says." "Chrisse, that's soon. I'll have to coordinate wit' Kurt so we can make sure it's all decorated..." His mind is already trying to seize on details. "Ouais, yes, I'll dress you. You'll look gorgeous."
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"Nothing too fancy. I like suspenders," he mumbles. Clearly he's willing to trust them with his wardrobe. To a point.
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"I'm glad to be back. ...you're going to drag me back to the cabin, aren't you?"
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The question though, leaves him planting a kiss on the man's head. "Naw," he murmurs. "I don't wanna keep you any place you don't wanna be."
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"What are you scared of?"
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"What's so different that you wouldn't?"
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With a sigh he squeezes the man protectively. "I know it's not easy to tell somebody you've changed. Or even that you're just... tryna be different... Give them some time to get to know you again. I'm pretty sure the guy we love is still right here."
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