JM: Young tilted head closeup

cyndrarae

Rebelling against Reality since 2003

v14.0


Previous Entry Share Next Entry
JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Mutant X: Blues (B/J) - 7: Damn cold night



Previous chapter


~The Remington Club, DC.~
***************************


I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waitin’ in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now…


Friday night at Remington’s… a night of drinks and music for the love children of the capital… what Jesse was doing here he couldn’t say. Muddled memories of the one time he’d been here so long ago… so easy to lose oneself at Remington’s.
Flashes of white, turning red… dizzy mauve and white again. Every blink of far-reaching lustrous lashes… witness to the world and its contents shedding skin faster than ever. Blurry shapes and clinging forms bleeding out and into each other… his universe swirling out of control… drunk on the bittersweet nectar of love’s pain.

There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound…


Jesse wandered drunkenly, silently among the club patrons… not really wanting to be here or out there… or anywhere. In that moment… not wanting to *be*. At all. So many memories to kill…

Escaping Insomnia, Jesse had run harder than he could remember… he never ran so hard when Shalimar goaded him into mindless races across empty corridors of the Sanctuary. Exhausted and disappointingly sober, stepped into the first familiar place he spotted. Ordered a drink and waited patiently for the bliss to settle, drown out the cold. Or knock him out, whatever. Not too picky tonight.

The party wore on… men professing love for each other in ways more reality TV than personal. An exhibitionist Jesse was not, he only desired to be acknowledged as a *living* entity occasionally… one with feelings… now and then. Okay so maybe it was a little too much to ask but hey, a freak can dream.

~Don’t be ridiculous.~

That’s what they said… every fucking time. Don’t be ridiculous. The very concept of being remotely associated with a Jesse Kilmartin was downright *ridiculous*. Noah refused to be seen with his wife and son and maybe… just maybe he had legitimate reasons… being a double agent with an international bounty on his head and all… still hurt a child of nine though. Which is just… ridiculous.

Jesse had given up on any expectations of goodwill from his *granddad* a long time ago… why then did fate after all these years shove him right back into the man’s face who so completely loathed him? Years of self-reconciliation, Adam’s counselling… all undone in a matter of seconds.
“Was that supposed to be funny?”
He yelled at no one. People turned around for a moment, then looked away.
No. Just plain ridiculous.

And Brennan prejudiced? No. Of course not.
Fucking coward that’s all. And an asshole.
But see really it wasn’t his fault. The only one to blame here is Jesse himself because he refuses to learn his lesson! Every time he forgets and every time he builds these great big castles of hope and expectation when deep inside he knows… he *knows* they’re bound to fall. That he doesn’t deserve any of it. He is worthless, insubstantial, ordinary at best.
So *obviously*… Brennan isn’t to blame. Maybe Adam is… why did he let Jesse believe anything otherwise? Why did he tell him he was beautiful and valuable? No one else seemed to think so…

“Bastards. Both of them. All of them!”
No one turned around this time.

Isn't anyone tryin’ to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?


Jesse downed another neat… hands shaking, cool liquid trickling down his lips to sleek neck and inside the dainty collar of his… stupid shirt.

A warm… soft touch on the juncture where his neck met his shoulder, gave Jesse something to focus on. Weakly inspired him to swim out of darkness, and follow the journey of an elegant index finger from his wet skin to lips of another. Lush, soft, smiling lips.

“Ryan, Jack Ryan.”
Jesse almost laughed.
~Bond, James Bond.~
Only he didn’t. Last names weren’t very common in places like these… but something in the blue eyes studying him so intently assured him it wasn’t fake. Jesse took the hand offered and shook it with sparing enthusiasm.

“Kilmartin. Jesse.”
The stranger was quite the charmer, smooth clean-cut looks in that perfectly groomed manner inherent to people with good taste and healthy bank accounts. He stood invading Jesse’s personal space and a part of Jesse was somehow grateful for that… rest of him too tired to insist otherwise.
“Rough night?”
Jesse wanted to roll his eyes.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“You could use some good company.”
“Great idea. I’ll go find some.”
And Jesse moved to get off the bar stool. This had gone far enough. He was never the pick-me-up sort of person and did not intend to start now. His body however chose this very opportune moment to… jeez this is embarrassing… buckle under. The strong arms that held him up did not belong to Brennan.
“I got you… its okay.”

Voice gentle and surprisingly reassuring. Jesse believed it, let his entire weight fall into the stranger’s arms, his head listless on a shoulder clad in expensive maroon silk. He couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic-ness. So much for the smart-ass exit.
Jack led Jesse away from the bar and let him flop onto… déjà vu… a leather couch. He knelt in front of the boy still holding him by his hips. Jesse continued to laugh another minute until he realised the man was very keenly looking at him, amused smile playing across his lips. And a beautiful smile it was.

Ryan was smitten. The boy had caught his eye the moment he’d walked in from God knows where and headed straight to the bar. He seemed hell-bent on keeling over, and was getting there fast.
~Can’t have that now can we…~
Something about him… almost vulnerable and yet not… Jack decided he would be peeling off the layers soon enough and possessing the understated beauty beneath… before the night was over. And he would do it with the boy conscious and screaming… loving every moment of it.

Ryan quickly ditched his friends, reaching Jesse just in time to finger off vodka droplets from the pale neck, its veins throbbing with deliberate intent to torture his soul. He was as tall and wide as Brennan… maybe more, even with him kneeling as Jesse lay slumped on the sofa… he was at eye level with the boy. And leaning closer…
Jesse felt the warm grip of hands on his arms, mint and clover breath of a handsome stranger with hypnotic eyes… felt himself falling.

It’s a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life…


“Let’s try this again shall we?”
Riveted. Jesse nodded, automatically.
“Hi, I’m Jack. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jesse.”

Wont you… take me by the hand
take me somewhere new,
I don't know who you are
but I'm, I'm with you…



***************************

Next chapter

?

Log in