RP: The Talk

[john_movinon]

ooc: Completed RP with the awesome tm_northstar. In which the boys sit down and have a serious talk... about John's personal issues, and in which Jean-Paul talks about how he's been thinking about moving back to Montreal and the decision he's made.

It had been a pretty long week. Long, and busy, and somewhat stressful at times.

For having such a relaxing vacation (for the most part, anyway) it was sure one hell of a way to jump into things. Feet first and they just keep going and going and going.

It was going well, though. The Shelter opened this week and okay, so it wasn't like it was super busy or anything, but a couple kids did a drop in. Ate, watched TV, and took off again and didn't stay the night. Hopefully, it would pick up soon. John and JP were both anxious (in a good way) about getting things going, helping some kids out.

But it wasn't like there wasn't stuff to do. There was, of course, the need to work out some of the kinks in the place, make it run a bit more smoothly. They had a chance to work on that stuff. And John had done some field work, just bummed around the streets and got a feel for how they were and where the kids were and what they did and all that.

It was all too familiar. And John did well enough fitting in and not raising too many defenses.

And, though he tried hard not to show it, those were the hours that took the most out of him.

It was the weekend now and they actually had weekend staff, some students from social sciences university classes, trying to put in experience and pay their rent at the same time. All trustworthy - John had done thorough background checks and criminal record checks and all the like, though he felt more then a little hypocritical doing that. John had the pager and his cell phone on, just in case anyone needed, but it had been pretty quiet for the most part.

Except the stupid night staff who called at ass o'clock in the morning to ask where the peanut butter in the kitchen was. John barely resisted tearing a strip into the guy and wanted to tell him to open his own fucking eyes, but he was good and kept his temper. Though, there were going to be boundaries about the pager brought up at the first real staff meeting, that was for fuck's sure.

Now it was Saturday night, and John had had some downtime over the weekend. He had hung out with Doug and they had a fantastic Date Night the night before, and slept in that day then lazed around, and just overall recouped. Tonight, though, was some time put aside for Jean-Paul. Their personal relationship had somewhat been put on hold during the week as their business one had to take the forefront. It had had it's moments, with some rockiness and snippiness, but they knew they had to deal with it, and planned on doing just that.

Tonight? Was The Talk.

It made John a little bit... nervous, actually. He and Jean-Paul both knew they had to air some personal stuff so that things didn't explode, but John was almost afraid of saying some things. Or, perhaps, hearing what JP had to say too. But John knew it was necessary and he was willing to do it-- they kept telling everyone they were able to make their relationships work because they knew communication was key and that's what they did. John had been really good at it at first, though he had hit a couple snags in the past week or two, so this was it. This was his effort into their relationship, as promised to his boyfriend(s).

Doug was off at the university or library or something, getting some work done and giving the two a little bit of space, though he was going to join them later on in the evening. John was waiting for Jean-Paul to arrive, idly flipping through channels on the television.

Jean-Paul didn't bother with knocking - he had a key to the apartment, and while the place was not quite his, he certainly wasn't a stranger. He locked the door after him and hung up his coat, kicking his shoes off into the closet.

"'Allo?" he called. He could hear the television, but John could be in the bathroom or something.

"In here," John replied, and Jean-Paul walked into the living room. John was sitting slumped on the couch, remote in hand. Jean-Paul walked over and tousled his hair with one hand, smiling softly.

"Anything good on?" he asked, then leaned down to brush his lips quickly over John's.

"Meh," John answered in non-committal tone. He wasn't really a big television watcher, just usually watched whatever the hell Doug or Jean-Paul wanted to watch. Last week, it was some television show with a talking car or something. And some guy with really wild white hair who reminded John of someone, though he couldn't place his finger on just who that was. John preferred watching movies, though Jean-Paul usually complained about his choices.

"You pick," John said, handing the remote to Jean-Paul, to avoid any whining that might come with whatever show John stopped at.

Jean-Paul took a seat beside him, and John slipped a hand onto Jean-Paul's knee and squeezed it. "Good day?"

Jean-Paul nuzzled his head against John's neck. "Better now," he murmured, kissing John's jawline. He straightened a little, sighing, and turned the television off. He tossed the remote down on the couch and ran both hands through his hair.

"Talk," he stated. "Okay, first things first: what HAS been bothering you, lately? You've been off ever since... Before the vacation. And we tried to talk, but you didn't want to, so. Is it that? Or is there something else?" He sat very still, taking a few slow breaths before asking, "Is it me?"

John took a deep breath. Shit. Oh shit. Why did he agree to do this? He was really bad at this. But he promised. So.

"One thing at a time, okay?" John suggested. He didn't want to overload it or anything, and if he tried to talk through too many things at once, he'd just fuck it up real bad. JP gave a little nod, but was looking at him a little bit anxiously.

John took a moment to think of his answer, and then shrugged. "Before the vacation... I guess you brought up some stuff I don't think I was ready to deal with. Don't want to deal with," he admitted. He frowned a little. "Sometimes... I have dreams. Almost like nightmares, but not quite. Not scary, but... I don't know. They wake me up and I don't like to go to sleep again so I don't sleep much. It's just, I don't know, one of those things. It's happened before, and gone away. It'll go away again."

Jean-Paul chewed at his lower lip. "Well," he said slowly, "I can understand that. Everybody has bad dreams. But why do you think they came back? Because I brought that stuff up? I don't like you not sleeping. You NEED sleep." He laughed a little, but without mirth. "Pot, meet kettle? Yeah, I know. But seriously. If you're getting too little sleep that can affect your health and your mental functions. None of us can afford that."

Jean-Paul placed his head on John's shoulder. "If your sleeping habits don't improve by the end of the month, I'm getting you pills." He frowned. "Although, really, what I SHOULD do is make you deal with... whatever. But you don't want to, do you?"

"I don't take meds," John said. "I'm not depending on that shit. I sleep when I'm tired, I do. It's got to be natural, you know? And you're totally right, you know. You're not one to talk, it's not like you sleep what you should be sleeping. I mean, are you on pills for more sleep?"

John frowned. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just... I don't know how. I know Osborn's all big on the psychiatrists but I don't think I am. And I know you're not, so you can't even suggest that." He paused. "It's fine. I'm moving on. Look at everything I'm doing. Bringing up stuff just throws me off. It's over, it's done, I don't want to deal with it anymore. I don't need to."

Jean-Paul pulled back and looked at John with one eyebrow raised. "Uh-huh," he said, deadpan. "Like I don't need to deal with Peter's vanishing? Like my sister doesn't need to deal with what happened to her in the hospital? Ignoring something doesn't work, John. We ALL know that by now. I'm not saying we have to think about it all the time, but refusing to talk about it just..." He shrugged.

"And don't you get snippy at me over pharmaceuticals. No, I'm not on anything right now. I have been, in the past." Jean-Paul started chewing at his nails. "But fine. No drugs. No therapy. No... anything." He sat there, silent, chewing. He had no idea how to proceed. He couldn't FORCE John to talk about things if he didn't want to. Maybe he wasn't ready to.

Finally he sighed and put his hands in his lap. "So. We're back where we started on that one. Was there anything ELSE on your mind?"

"I didn't mean to get snippy," John said, trying very hard to keep his voice even and not sound snippy. "I was asking an honest question."

John sat with his armed crossed for a moment. He had no idea what to do, or to say. He got the sense that Jean-Paul wanted him to say more about... what threw him off before their vacation. About his dreams, and the stuff of his dreams. But he was the one who actually put a stop to that, pretty fast, and so John just didn't feel like offering up any more information right then.

He looked askance at Jean-Paul. "Well. Is there anything on your mind you want to talk about?"

Jean-Paul nodded and stared at his hands. "I am seriously considering a place in Montreal," he said quietly. "A studio apartment, probably downtown - nothing fancy, nothing expensive. I've gone over my finances and I think I can afford it. I have some money invested." He took a slow breath. "I've talked it over with my sister. She was very upset at first, but I assured her it would be for only a few days a week. She can visit whenever she likes - she IS faster than me, you know. It would mean I could keep a closer eye on the health centre in Toronto, and I after things settle with Saj House in New York I can look into creating another shelter in Canada."

He looked up, his mouth set in a determined line. "I know the idea upsets you, and probably more than you want to say because you seem to live in fear of upsetting me. I'm not... I'm not gonna break, John. And I'm not leaving you."

He reached over and took one of John's hands firmly in his own. "I love you, dumbass," he said. "And I love Doug. I want to stay with you guys until you get sick of me. You know that, right?"

John sat quietly for a moment. Very quietly, and extremely still. He let Jean-Paul hold his hand, but then he drew it away. He pulled away from Jean-Paul, but not in anger. He just needed to... he just needed to.

He stood up and paced in front of the television, walking in front of it once, and then twice. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over at Jean-Paul before looking away.

"Okay," he said, his voice low. He coughed and cleared his voice. Stronger, he said, "Okay. So we'll make it work."

Jean-Paul sat on the couch, feeling like shit. This was not going as well as he had planned. Dammit, he'd even practised what he was going to say!

"It's really not a big deal," he said. "I mean, the distance between Montreal and New York really isn't very far. Especially for me. Nothing would change." He said that last part a little desperately, and he winced at the sound of it. "Why does this upset you?" he asked quietly.

"Why, Jean-Paul?" John asked rhetorically. The irritation was creeping into his voice. "You want to fucking know why?"

John was cracking. He'd been trying so hard not to crack. Jean-Paul was right, John did have a fear of upsetting him, but it was John who was upset now. And scared. And hurt, even. And he was pissed off - at himself - for letting himself feel that way. But the dam, the brick wall even, the one that John had been working so hard to build up over the past half year (hell, longer then that, even) was starting to break a little. More then that, it was down right crumbling.

"Because how you're telling me to think and feel isn't how I think and feel." John snorted angrily. "And I hate feeling this way. It's stupid. I KNOW it's stupid. I know you're not trying to hurt us. I know you're not trying to leave us. You say it's not a big deal and maybe it's not but it feels like it. You say you want to stay with us? You're moving out of the fucking country. How is that supposed to feel like you're not leaving us?"

John felt horrible. The look on Jean-Paul's face would have broken his heart, except that it already sort of felt like it was. And he felt incredibly guilty about that. But he'd started talking about how he was feeling and now it felt like he couldn't stop. He so wanted to stop. But Terry was right - he couldn't shut down. It would do worse if he did that now.

"I would have asked you to move in with us the second I knew I was in love with you, but I didn't want to take you away from your sister. I couldn't be the guy that did that. But you're doing that on your own choice and it's not to be with us. And now I can't ask you to live with us, like ever, because then I'll be that asshole that kept you from doing what you want to do. And I will NOT be that asshole. I'm not telling you not to go. You have to go. You want to go, JP. So go. And we'll do what we can to make us work."

Jean-Paul sat on the couch, a little stunned. Part of him was hurt, and another was angry, but mostly he was strangely relieved. Here at least was real emotion, no longer hidden by short answers and half-lies.

Still, one thing struck him more than the others:

"You would have asked me to move in?" He blinked, stunned. "I. Really?" He shook his head. "That's... Wait. John, baby, you wouldn't be 'that asshole' at all. If you asked, and I didn't want to, I wouldn't. Simple as that." He stood up. "And I am not leaving. I know you know that logically, but I have to say it again. I miss my home, John. I miss Montreal, and I miss living in a country that gives me more rights than this one does."

He took a deep breath. "Things change. And one day, I'll sell the apartment. I will either move back down here for good... or I'll fucking well take the two of you with me. But right now... yes. I DO need this. For me."

"So then go," John snapped at him. "No one is stopping you."

John started pacing again, clearly agitated. "I can't go," he said, glancing sharply at Jean-Paul. "I finally have a life here, JP. A life of my own. Finally. And New York feels like my home. I have the Center and the Shelter and I can't leave them. I won't. They're my second chance and I can't just fuck them over. And Doug has school and work and it makes him happy. He is so happy. I thought we were all happy now." John shook his head. "But you're not. Not really. You say you are but you're obviously not. And so I know you need to go. But it's just..."

John paused, and stood still, though he was farther away from JP then closer. His hands went to his hips. "It worries me. I mean... we're not speedsters, JP. We can't be there for you at a drop of a hat. And we're worried about you, moving away. What if you're lonely? What if, I don't know. Like a couple weeks ago, when your friends upset you so much and I came to see you? I can't do that if you're in Canada." John hung his head, but looked up at Jean-Paul through the fringe of his hair. "I'm not going to be able to look after you like I should if you're so far away."

John's eyes went down to the floor. In a whisper barely audible, he says, "It feels like I'm going to lose you."

Jean-Paul did not hesitate - he crossed the distance between them in a second and wrapped his arms around John's chest and shoulders, pressing himself into the other man's back.

"I would not ask you to leave NOW," he said quietly. "I understand this is your home. I would never take what you are building away from you, from either of you."

He kissed the back of John's neck, soft as falling snow. "I love you. You won't lose me. This... I need to learn to look after myself. I'm still fucked up over Peter. You guys help, but I have to learn how to stand by myself sometimes."

He was breathing hard, and his throat felt too hot and too tight. "You will not lose me," he repeated. "Never, ever. I promise."

"You don't know that," John said, his voice sounding hollow. He didn't shrug out of Jean-Paul's arms, but he didn't welcome the embrace either. He stood still, like stone, and stared out the window.

It was hard for him, but he did it - he voiced one of his biggest fears in his relationship with Jean-Paul. "Maybe you're fucked up, but you'll get over it, over him. You're going to be fine, JP. You'll stand on your own, and you'll finally stand up to everyone else and tell them to back the fuck off already. Us included." John felt empty. "You'll realize we're just a stepping stone to help and then you'll leave us behind completely. You're already starting."

John hated this. He hated thinking that way, and feeling that way, and he hated thinking that it was just going to drive Jean-Paul away quicker.

John felt weak and stupid and vulnerable. He wanted to swear, and fight, and push Jean-Paul away and just be left the fuck alone.

Instead, he told the truth. "And I know none of that is true, and that you don't think or feel that way, but that's how it feels to me. It's stupid. Irrational. I'm being so fucking stupid right now. Go to Montreal, JP," John said. He pulled away, but turned around and looked Jean-Paul right in the eye. But he was at a loss as to what to say anymore.

Jean-Paul stared back at him for a second, expression waxlike. He then carefully took John's face in his hands. He leaned in and kissed John on the mouth, warm and hard, refusing to be pushed away. He pulled away only once he felt John's mouth begin to relax under his own.

"It's not stupid," he said quietly. "It's how you feel, and I thank you for telling me. No matter how dumb we think they are, feelings matter. YOUR feelings matter." He kissed John again, lightly. "I had no idea you thought... You're no stepping stone. Not you, not Doug. I don't WANT you to back the fuck off. I want you to be there for me while I sort my head out, and then I want you to be there when I've got my shit together, too. You do not use the ones you love," he said, shaking his head slightly for emphasis.

He pressed his mouth against John's, his arms going around his neck. He didn't know how to put what he needed to say into words, wasn't sure there WERE words, so he could only resort to actions and prayer. He kissed John fervently, pressing his body as close as he could. Eventually he buried his face in John's neck, still hanging on tight.

"Je t'aime," he muttered. "Never leaving." His voice was thick and his accent turned the word to 'nevair'. "Not really. Need you. Want you. Never use you." He kissed John fiercely in defiance of the very thought.

There were too many thoughts in John's head, too many emotions, and he was having trouble sorting through them.

Part of him wanted to push Jean-Paul away. Yell at him, be angry. Tell him he was leaving. Point out how Jean-Paul felt when his best friend picked up and moved across the country, much less another fucking country. And John was more then that, he was his boyfriend. Wanted to say that Jean-Paul left Peter at the Institute and always resented him for not following and that's how he was going to end up feeling about John and Doug too. Wanted to call him a big fat hypocrite for always worrying about being left behind when he was the one doing the leaving now.

But part of him wanted to give into Jean-Paul's physical touch. Pick him up and take him to the bedroom and be sweet and tender. Make love to him in a way that would make him realize he didn't want to leave, that he didn't need to. Be deep inside him and whisper softly in his ear, and ask him to stay. Tell him, desperately, that he didn't want him to go. In that moment, JP would probably say yes.

And another part of him wanted to tell JP it was fine. That he understood why JP had to do this, and that John supported his decision. That he believed everything JP said, and that they would make it work. They will make it work.

John knew. John knew that last one would come through, once he got over his hang-ups about this.

But he couldn't do or say any of that. Not in this very moment.

He gently disentangled himself from JP's embrace. He wasn't trying to be defensive or push JP away, he just needed space for a moment. Needed to clear his head. "Need a drink," he muttered in explanation, and that was true too.

He walked to the kitchen, and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. He noticed his hands were shaking. He frowned. He didn't know why. He took a jug of juice from the fridge and started to pour some. Somehow, it slipped from his hand and he tried to grab the glass but it slipped and broke too, and John ended up cutting his finger on glass.

"FUCK." In an instant, JP was at John's side, but John ignored his concerned look and put his finger up to his mouth to lick off the blood. Through the finger, he mumbled, "I'm fine."

He grabbed some paper towel, wrapped it around the cut and his fingers, and pressed hard, trying to stop the bleeding. It stung like a bitch. It hurt, but it wasn't deep. And it'd go away soon enough.

He glanced over at JP. "It's all going to be fine."

Jean-Paul didn't reply, just went and got the dustpan, more paper towels and a garbage bag. He knelt and started picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the bag, putting down towels to soak up the juice. John moved to help him and he shooed him away wordlessly, focusing on cleaning up the mess. Eventually he used the dustpan to get the smaller bits of glass, and then he stood.

"We should mop so it doesn't get sticky," he said, tying the garbage bag up and putting it by the door. He finally turned to look at John.

"It IS going to be fine," he said, surprised at how steady his voice was. "Look. You saw the shitstorm that was the debate over my citizenship. I need to reconnect. If I do that, I'll be happier." He went to the sink and washed his hands off, drying them on a handtowel before continuing. "I know this is a big deal, and you have no idea how important it is to me that you're willing to try. Part of me was convinced you'd dump me over this, you know. Just say it was too much hassle, and that obviously I didn't love you enough." He stepped closer to John, fishing the necklace he always wore out from under his shirt.

"Do you REALLY think I'd throw this away?" he asked quietly, holding the necklace up. "Non. We will try this. If it doesn't work, I'll come back." He smiled and let it drop back to his chest. "You are not getting rid of me that easily, John Allerdyce. Now. You need a band-aid."

"I don't think we should get into the political debate thing," John said dryly. He was rather disgusted by the whole thing, the way Jean-Paul was spoken to and treated. But he knew it was just the defensive-boyfriend part of him kicking in, because it wasn't like he'd never gotten into it over politics and he knew it.

But, he offered what he thought the connection to this very talk, and probably the part that upset him the most about it. "It's what's driving you away." Jean-Paul opened his mouth to say something, but John cut him off. "I know it is, you're not going to convince me otherwise. I also know that if it hadn't have been that, it would have been something else, eventually. I get that, I do. You need to do this, for you, and so..." John sighed "You'll do it. And I'm not going to get in your way."

He held up his finger. "I'll get a band-aid. You, mop."

A couple minutes later, they met in the living room again, and John collapsed on the couch. Jean-Paul took the seat beside him, and John caught glimpse of the necklace he gave him around his neck.

"I'd never dump you over this," John said firmly. "Part of my problem with it was that it felt like I was going to lose you, and I don't want that to happen. I love you too much." He looked at JP. "But, I mean. Like you said, we'll try."

Jean-Paul sat quietly for a moment, weighing his feelings carefully. Guilt, fear, love... and most of all relief. Yes, he was doing the right thing. For himself.

"We'll try," he repeated. "I'm terrified of losing you guys, you know. You're so much to me. I wouldn't even BE here without you, probably." He sighed.

"Is Doug gonna be mad at me, do you think?" Jean-Paul asked. He didn't THINK he would - he'd talked to Doug briefly already, but still, he worried. Before his moving was hypothetical. Now it was fact.

"I don't think mad would be the right word. He's a pretty understanding guy." John paused for a moment. "He has his worries about it, but nothing that I haven't brought up. He'll miss you being around more. We both will." John frowned in thought. "Hell, we're probably going to be missing each other and we live together. We're going to have conflicting schedules, I think."

John sighed and settled into the couch. He felt tired all of a sudden. "It's fine. We'll work it out."

Maybe if he said it enough times, he'll honestly believe it. He knew he would, he just needed to see the theory in practice.

He glanced at JP. "When are you thinking of moving?" he asked quietly.

Jean-Paul shrugged. "As soon as I find a nice place, I guess," he said. "I saw some decent studios online. You know, cheap but nice enough. Mostly in the downtown area. The Village and Old Montreal are a bit on the pricey side." He sighed and moved so he was curled up beside John, his head resting against his chest.

John wasn't the only one who was tired. Jean-Paul was exhausted as well, and he noticed with some distaste that he'd shredded his nails again. Well. At least he'd made it through the conversation without smoking.

"I worry about you," he said softly.

John's automatic response was Don't. But he caught himself in time, because he knew it wouldn't work on Jean-Paul. Instead, he asked, "Why?"

Jean-Paul rubbed one hand absently over John's leg. "Because you have so much hurt, baby. And I don't now how to fix any of it." He twisted his head to look up at John, face still and set. "I don't think you know, either." He searched John's face carefully, then shook his head a little. "Non. But you go on. We all go on, and no matter how fucked up everything else is, you have me. Remember that."

John didn't want to talk about his hurt. He didn't know if he wanted to be fixed. It motivated him, in a way, just like anger used to. He didn't want to know what he'd be like fixed. He told JP before - he might get lost. He wasn't going to do that.

"I'll remember," John said. He lightly brushed his lips against JP. It was something he wanted to do, not something he wanted to use against JP. It felt more right, now.

John pressed his cheek against Jean-Paul's. He said very quietly, "And you have me. Just don't forget it, k?"

Jean-Paul nodded slightly. "I won't forget," he said. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Can we go to bed?" he asked. "I don't really wanna like... I'm not horny, but I sort of want you. You know?" He just wanted to hide in John's touch, in his taste. Words didn't seem reassuring enough.

"Yeah, I know," John replied. He got what JP meant - he wanted to hold his boyfriend close, and kiss him even, but he wasn't in the mood. Not for that, not right now.

He shifted JP off of him, and got up, holding out his hand. JP took it and John pulled him up. "Let's go lay down. Maybe make out a little," John suggested, with a bit of a leer. A tired, emotionally drained one, anyway. "And then rest and wait for our other boyfriend, yeah?"

Jean-Paul nodded in agreement, and the two of them made their way to the bedroom, hand in hand.