umbralla | [for romain]

[for romain]

[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.

Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.

He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]

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A file cabinet? [that interests him, so he adjusts his position a bit.] What were you looking for?

[And they're right back to this shady, shady school.]

I get many punishments for defending myself, non? So I looked at Mme. Brant's file on me. [He shakes his head vigorously.] The records, they are not what she is told.

... What are they?

[he did always get a bad feeling from her.]

It is not lying, not completely, but - [Here's another thing he never imagined telling anyone, but Romain already knows about Fallon. If he's digging himself a hole by doing this, it can't get that much deeper, can it?] - somehow, everyone is at fault. I am not sure of the word, but no one is given any -

[Nope, he can't get to it. What he means is mitigating circumstances, genuine reasons rather than excuses, things like self-defense, for god's sake: no consideration, just their acts, in the worst light possible.]

Everyone's at a fault. [he pauses to think about that.] Like they consider all of us dangerous?

Non...

[That's not really the feeling he got from it. But that feeling is even harder to put into words.]

I believe - it is only my own impression, but I believe that she enjoys the act. Punishment.

[Again, in no way meant to be suggestive. Just gleaned from the files he looked through (more than his own, but that's an admission he's already made in his own oblique way), and the fact that she seemed to deliver discipline for everything possible. And some impossible things, by twisting the truth as he said. To say nothing of how horribly unfair and cruel some of them were (why did one boy have to plaster a wall in Miles's room simply because he was there when Miles made it, and how did Miles end up back in the room during that punishment if the first infraction angered him so much?)]

That's creepy as hell.

[but he did sleep with a woman how can form an entire army of blind followers in a second. They're surrounded by power abuse no matter where they go, aren't they. Fuck.]

I wonder if she's doing it on her own.

Her records, they are not... it is not obvious, if you did not give a report yourself.

[That's how he spotted the pattern, seeing the way his own words were twisted. But it may only be her, is what he wants to say. They don't need to lose faith in the whole school.

Although as much as he wants to stay for the prestige of the degree, he nearly has already.]

... You really should be a spy. Uncover all this stuff so everybody knows what these guys are doing.

[It feels like a compliment, but the subject matter is far too dark for him to take any warmth from it. Expose the school once he's made a name for himself, have all of these people purged from it so that the next generation can be raised and taught in a safer environment. He never saw himself doing something so great.

It would reflect poorly on the gifted community, which wouldn't help back home. But on him? He'd be improving things.

What a very selfish thought. But he can't shake it.]

Aider-moi. Je peux révéler tout quand j'ai un titre propre, quand ils ne peuvent pas m'ignorer.

Je suis là. Avec toi.

[he never saw himself doing something like that, but. Look at how Ghyslain has been wronged. Multiply that by the thousands of kids in all the schools.]

Hey, drink up. It's gonna lose all the fizz.

[It's his turn to reach for Romain's hand, give it a little squeeze as he exhales out his excitement and nervousness in a shaky breath. This doesn't feel like retribution or heroism or anything like that to him - just something that needs to be done, and he's in a good position to do it.

(And maybe it'll be treated a bit like heroism and maybe he'd like that attention. Everyone's a little bit ugly.)

He releases the hand quickly, though, taking a sip of his drink as ordered.]

This has grown from pranks. [It's said lightly, but with that ever-incisive gaze trained on Romain.]

[even if it's a meaningful gesture, Romain finds it really cute. Weird that they were never friends before. They get along so well despite their stark differences.

He watches Ghyslain distractedly for a moment, and then finally decides to ask:]

Wanna make out?

[Considering what they were talking about, the sharp change of subject comes as enough of a shock, never mind what Romain says. But there was suggestiveness in how he asked about staying in his room, so Ghyslain really could've expected this. He was hoping for it, quietly. But it still startles him a bit.

He sets down his drink on the beside table, then smiles at Romain a bit wickedly.]

Je n'ais pas choisi ton chambre pour l'ambiance. [Damn right he wants to make out.]

[Maybe Romain isn't so good at really serious conversations, especially when they go on for too long. Not a lot of people get to see that side of him, so - pretty amazing that Ghyslain even got this far.

With a little laugh, Romain's smile turns into a full grin. He adjusts his position on the bed, turned toward Ghyslain, and carefully brings a hand up to cup his face. Standard stuff to take positions and lean in for a starter kiss.]

[Stark differences is right. Ghyslain is too serious for his own good, so maybe they'll strike some sort of balance. There is a saying about opposites he thinks, just before Romain touches his face so sweetly and he doesn't think about anything else.

He's not used to the standard at all. It's nearly magical to him.

He's eager when he closes the distance, but a bit more patient when their lips meet, always having to remind himself to slow down and not devour Romain whole. Even now that he's fully on board, or as fully as the two of them both want, Ghyslain feels like he could easily be overwhelmed. This is only his second time kissing a boy, the first of which probably went as far as it did because of alcohol.

So he just nudges Romain's lips, a series of soft and dry kisses, maybe a little bit teasing.]

[he parts his lips fully expecting a tongue to meet his own, resuming what they are doing to wonder if he should be confused or humbled by how eager he's become. The thrill he felt before is still there, which is both unnerving and a relief, but Ghyslain does a good job at making Romain feel okay about kissing a guy (and jerking off, can't forget the jerking off, which just pulls at a pesky nerve like a string on a guitar) and makes it look so easy to boot. He thinks they've both had their hearts broken, so maybe that means they'll just be more careful with each other's.]

Mm...

[definitely getting impatient now, which calls for some tricks up his sleeve. His hand lowers after the little moan, settling on Ghyslain's thigh.]

{God, that sound makes him flush all over, and he lets out a little one of his own when Romain's hand rests on his thigh. Still brave, even without the alcohol. This is a thing he wants, a thing he asked for first, so Ghyslain doesn't have to be quite so cautious. He still doesn't want to push, but not quite so cautious.

He finally licks into Romain's mouth, trying to coax out his tongue, his own hands pressing up against Romain's chest to steady himself as he leans in closer and lets out a shaky breath through his nose. As much as he likes Romain - and he really, really does - some of this is still the illicit thrill that comes from knowing Romain never considered it with another boy. Ghyslain doesn't get to feel special often, so he's eating up this chance.]

[There's a telling shift to the way his neck is positioned when Ghyslain's tongue pushes through his lips, picking up speed and leaning back in to counter the pressure with more open eagerness.

The hand on his thigh begins to slide up and down within an inch, a soothing movement before it circles to the outer side and back up. The sounds become more frequent, more suggestive, tongues going back and forth. He knows girls can get incredibly turned on from making out alone, but - well. They're both guys. Guys need something more direct, don't they?

Wait. Back up. They're just making out. Ghyslain isn't expecting him to do anything beyond that, and vice-versa.

So he breaks away from the kiss, breathing hard to press his forehead against the other boy's. His eyes are shut, he's clearly bothered by something, but he's smiling.]

We should lie down.

[At least Ghyslain isn't getting instantly hard the way he did the first time they kissed, just chasing down little shivers and squirming movements as Romain caresses his thigh and waves of heat flow through his veins. It's so good, he's falling a little in love with Romain's soft lips and the skilled movements of his tongue - enough that he makes his own tiny (and unintentional) noise of complaint when the kiss is broken. Their heavy breaths mingling, Ghyslain opens his eyes to scan Romain's face carefully.

There are a few different signals being sent here, and Ghyslain isn't sure which one to believe. Lie down, or question that statement? Romain's smile can't quite hide the unease on his face.]

You are sure?

Just so we're comfortable.

[uh-huh. He claims no responsibility over what may come after that.]

... d'accord.

[He's still not sure, but asking was really all he could do, right? When Romain doesn't take the opportunity to change his mind, Ghyslain shuffles behind him and stretches out on the bed, staying on his side to keep things as neutral as possible - no suggestion that anyone needs to be on top of anyone else right now. Then he grins up, a bit coy in that way he has, and slides a fingertip down Romain's arm.]

Come here. [It's a very English expression, not one he'd use naturally, but the moment seemed to call for it.]

[Damn, he really is beautiful. Just watching him shift and take a position on the bed, lying down on his side while his ice blue eyes look straight up at Romain's. Immediately he wants to find his features with his hands, ravish him, kiss him all over. He has never felt this way about another guy and he still has no idea how Ghyslain is making all these feelings hit so fast.

The smile is gone now, only because it's given place to a mildly awestruck daze. That is broken when he looks down at the finger on his arm, which is about enough to send a shiver down his middle.

Wish, command. Soon enough Romain is on his side, too, propping himself up on one arm.]

... Can't stop staring at your eyes.

[That look, a bit dazed and yet very heated, gives him a shiver right back. Has he ever been looked at like that? He's mostly blind to people admiring him, but now he can't ignore or deny it, and it's coming from (what he still thinks of as) a straight boy. Pride swells in him even as his mouth quirks into a shy grin and he has to break the stare once Romain is lying down.]

My eyes? [Slowly, he looks back up, into Romain's. The dark greyish-blue that hid its true colour for quite awhile because of its shade. He cups Romain's cheek, stroking lightly with his thumb.] Your own are much more striking, Romain.

Edited 2015-06-24 23:42 (UTC)

[they've discussed each other's eyes; he remembers that much. How drunk were they then? Romain still feels inebriated now, even if it's out of sheer chemistry. It feels cheesy to admit that to himself.]

... Listen, I know I said I don't want a relationship, but - I don't want you to think I'm just gonna turn around [AND DESERT YOU] and pretend you don't exist anymore. I'm not like that. But if one day you think you want more and I'm hurting you for it then we might as well call it quits. Okay? It's important that we're both honest about this.

[this is not unlike talks he's had before.]

We should be friends above all. I don't wanna lose that.

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