suchmiracles | IC; Deerington Inbox

No, I do.

Look. I've learned a lot, and one of those things is that I need to stop shoving my insecurities on you. Because that's exactly what I did, and it looks really fucking stupid to me now.

You're very special, Kurt Wagner.

emotions aren't always rational things, JP
but I understand and I forgive you. it'll be okay

No, they aren't. But that only goes so far as an excuse.

I have a lot to talk to you about. And I will, soon. Thank you for letting me take some time.

of course

is there anything else I can do?

Yes. Give yourself a break, ok?

Jean-Paul goes searching for Kurt. In his hands he has two mugs of hot chocolate.

"I couldn't find marshmallows."

Kurt's perched in the hammock on the second level of the cabin. One leg curled up underneath his body, he pushes himself idly from side to side as autumnal rain rattles against the closed balcony doors. A cardboard box of cassette tapes is on the floor; he's sorting through them, frowning over ones that don't have labels and those that seem to have been titled in a variety of alien languages.

He glances up as Jean-Paul arrives, setting the tape he's scrutinising aside to take one of the mugs.

"Danke schön. I'm sure it will be delicious." He shifts slightly, clearing up a couple of tapes with a scoop of his tail. "Join me?"

Jean-Paul smiles brilliantly. Considering how upset Wes was, he wasn't sure how Kurt would react to his return. He carefully gets into the hammock, sighing happily as he finds himself pressed against Kurt's familiar form.

"I missed you so much," he says. "And I sure have a lot to tell you." But first he presses a gentle kiss to Kurt's lips.

"I went home," he says quietly.

"You.. you went home?"

The smile brought about by that kiss fades quickly from Kurt's expression, replaced by a slowly dawning surprise and concern. He blinks wide eyes, his mind starting to race at the implications of what Jean-Paul has been through; he realises he can't remember at what point in time Jean-Paul had been pulled from, before. His tail twitches, the rest of him falling still.

"For how long?"

"I believe I'm caught up wit' Gwen," he says after a little thought. He kisses Kurt's cheek.

"Krakoa is mutant fuck paradise. And we're basically immortal now." Jean-Paul snorts and drops his head to Kurt's shoulder.

"Chrisse. It's so good to be beside you, Kurt."

As much as he wants to share Jean-Paul's levity, the weight of what his partner has experienced settles too heavily into Kurt's thoughts for him to be able to do more than smile thinly, holding tight to the warm mug between his palms.

"So.. San Francisco. And Utopia? And Hope," he murmurs, thinking out loud as he explores back through the years. He turns his head slightly to be able to look down at Jean-Paul leaning against him. "Do you remember rescuing me from Heaven?"

He pauses, frowning as he recalls what he's just been told. "What do you mean, immortal?"

Jean-Paul sits up so he can sip his cocoa. "Ouais," he says. He does smile as he adds, "I was such a prick to you and you were still so sweet. I feel like we've got past my animosity a bit. Part of me thinks it's maybe somehow from here, from this."

He takes another sip, taking the time to sort his thoughts. "They resurrect us. Grow new bodies, download our consciousness. It's creepy, but..."

He pauses, not sure what he should and should not share. "My sister was murdered. Right before I woke up here, we'd just found her body and taken her to be brought back. It's a whole process, we literally had to form a team to investigate these things.."

He startles himself by laughing genuinely. "Logan's kid... Daken... we wound up wit' him, and Kurt... he's worse than Logan, my God. He's trying to fuck my husband." He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, this is a lot."

Kurt manages a small smile in response to Jean-Paul's laughter. His partner is right; it's a lot to take in and his mind spins as he tries to piece it together. The idea of mutantkind finally finding a safe home, the concept of commonplace resurrection, friends and enemies returned --

"He stabbed me once. Daken." His hand goes to his stomach -- ironically, the injury hadn't been so far from where the scars of Laura's claws are hidden beneath his fur. He looks over to meet Jean-Paul's gaze, trying to sort through the rapidly building pile of things he wants to ask about.

"Gwen told me that Logan's alive on Krakoa." It's not quite a question, but he can't deny the note of hope in his voice.

Stabbing runs in the family - Jean-Paul of course had been killed by Logan's claws once before.

But that doesn't matter at the moment. Carefully he moves one hand to grip Kurt's.

"Yes," he says emphatically. Then, dryly while he makes a face, he adds, "I heard he's fucking Cyclops, so maybe people come back a little loopy, who knows. But he's alive and well, mon amour."

Leave it to Kurt to be more concerned for his loved ones than himself.

Kurt's surprise and confusion only increases with the explanation.

"He -- Scott? Not.." His voice falters before he continues on that second word. Not me dies on his tongue. Of course, he knows his hopes aren't necessarily going to work out, not when they all have so many responsibilities, so many other things to consider. But if Krakoa is truly the place Jean-Paul and Gwen have suggested, he had thought that, if anywhere, then -- but perhaps not. Perhaps, if this is true, the future is far stranger than he had even considered.

He clears his throat around the tightness in it and looks back at Jean-Paul, seeking a more stable place.

"Tell me more about Krakoa. We truly have a home? For good?"

Jean-Paul catches that faltering word without it needing to be said. Tenderly, he kisses Kurt's cherk. "I don't keep track of him," he says, "but I would bet millions he's with you as well. It's a bit of a not-joke that all the core X-Men are just a giant polyamorous household." He snorts and looks around.

"And considering it, being back here? Ouais, you're all together."

Jean-Paul waves a hand. "We should. It's a sovereign nation, and we've figured out how to do most things ourselves so we're not about to be hurt by other countries withholding trade. It's run by a council." He smiles. "Which you're on, by the way."

Kurt accepts Jean-Paul's words in silence, willing to leave his personal doubts and fears buried for now. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate as he listens, raising his eyebrows at the idea of being on a council in charge of an entire nation. It does sound like the kind of thing he would volunteer for.

"I am?" He considers this for a moment, his curiosity piqued, but caution stops him from asking any more questions. "I'm.. I'm not sure how much I want to know. Is that strange? But --" he looks over at Jean-Paul. "I'm glad you have had a chance to meet Kyle."

"It's not strange," Jean-Paul says. "For me? Knowing too much gives me fucking anxiety. I man, look how poorly I reacted to the idea of my marriage."

He sighs and sips his drink, sitting in silence for a little while. "I don't know how to feel about everything. Do you remember Prodigy? He arrived here, from the same when as me. We work together now. Anyway. He recommended just compartmentalizing, really, because there's no reason not to live life here as we never know what's going to happen.

Kurt, back home... I spent a while not remembering him. Mind fuckery. But I still knew on some level."

"God works in mysterious ways," Kurt replies gently, then catches himself and offers Jean-Paul a brief smile, apologetic.

"Sorry. But I agree with David. While we're here, we need to be here, as much as we can. But, at the same time.." He puts a tentative hand on Jean-Paul's leg, holding his gaze. "You've been through a lot, schatz. Literally. It's okay to not know how to feel right now. And if you need to.. take some time out, or step back from things for a little while, I'm sure everyone will understand."

Jean-Paul kisses Kurt's cheek again. "God does," he agrees.

He shakes his head. "I want to be here, with all of you. I need to be. Kurt, you have no idea how much clearer I can see what all of this is, and how to be a better partner. I feel like I was a mongrel dog before, insecure of my place. Kyle housetrained me." This is said dryly, but with a wealth of affection at the same time.

"Besides. There's a wedding to plan. I know ALL about that, I can help. You think Grady is going to know about floral arrangements? Please." His smile fades and he looks at Kurt solemnly. "Wes is not particularly assured by my return, you know. I hope I haven't caused you similar distress."

Kurt rubs Jean-Paul's thigh gently, reassuringly, trying o encourage that smile back again.

"I'm just glad you're okay. It must be strange, to be gone for so long, then returning and only a few days have passed." His mouth twitches in a small, wry grin. "It feels selfish to admit that I'm happy that you've returned."

"It's so, so strange. It doesn't help that there was more amnesia bullshit back home some while ago. It's like I really can't tell what is and isn't reality right now."

Jean-Paul sees that grin and smiles in response. "Be selfish. Be selfish and kiss me."

Kurt's easily persuaded and doesn't need to be asked twice. He leans in to kiss Jean-Paul, letting himself linger, enjoying the taste of chocolate on his lips. Then the other man's words sink in a little further and he pulls back, a frown reappearing.

"Wait, amnesia bullshit? I don't remember anything like that -- at least, not recently. What happened?"

Jean-Paul knows he's going to need a lot of kissing in the following weeks - for everyone else it's been a few days, but for him he has years in between the taste of these men. He needs to be reacquainted.

Jean-Paul makes a face. "Nate Grey. I hate that guy. Chrisse, Jean and Sott have about as many kids as Logan does at this point and they're not even two hundred years old." Not an entirely accurate summary of the Grey-Summers family tree, but Jean-Paul has never really cared to delve into it. "Anyway it was some... stupid reality shift. Thing. I was a member of the fuck police. I'm not even kidding."

The fur between Kurt's eyebrows furrows as he tries to make sense of it. The last thing he'd been told about Nate's whereabouts had suggested the man was incapable of fully using his powers. He sighs and rubs his hand over his face, feeling suddenly very tired of the various twists and turns of their lives.

"Do I want to know what the, uh.." he can't quite bring himself to actually say those words, "what that means?"

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action; after being dragged home

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