mutual suffering

Valentine woke up again around noon. This time, he could actually tell- because once the sun was full on blinding him, the phone screen was hardly as much of a threat. After a moment of hiding in the blankets, he reached out a thin hand to snatch his sunglasses and put them back where they belonged. A protection back in place, after all the stripping and tearing of them that had gone on. The next step was gathering the comforter around him, then his phone, and hunching over it. Nearly one pm. Could've been worse, and even though he rather wanted to embrace that worse by going back to sleep… well.

Once he was up, his brain working, a nice headache already coming on, thoroughly assaulted by natural light, he was going to be up for a while.

Valentine had been staring at his phone, just the time, as there was nothing else to check on. There was nobody to miss him besides the person that was already here. Val didn't really need to check to see if Jack was in the room, but did it anyway, and wasn't disappointed. This felt weird. Too… normal, for them. Valentine didn't have the energy to muster up some surprise act of cruelty, though. What was he going to do, knock over the man's bowl of cereal at breakfast?

He ignored Jack's presence for now, slipping out of bed and stretching a bit. He glanced at the food, but decided that too he still couldn't manage. The heat was up a bit, which he was happy about, but it still wasn't enough. Walking around and just clinging to the comforter forever was very tempting, but even in this state he had some pride. He would not drag the blankets around, and he would not knock over anyone's cereal.

Instead, he found Jack's closet and started digging around in it. He expertly picked out the thickest sweater available, and, after a moment of absent fussing with it, tugged it on. It annoyed him a bit, that he was considered tall in comparison to normal people, but this monster sweater meant for Jack slipped down past his waist and had his fingers barely poking out from the sleeves. But it was warm, and now? Now he was fully set for surviving this situation he'd landed himself in.

So he turned to Jack, arms crossed, hair mussed, and sighed.

"Morning."

That was a start, wasn't it?

Valentine's head was still fuzzy. He blinked slowly, absently fixing his glasses when they started to slide down his nose. "Are you growing out your hair?" He asked, as it was the first thing that had popped into his mind. He reached out, touching at the strands, then sighing. He plopped himself into Jack's lap, already tired of standing- and quickly went back to amusing himself by playing with the man's hair, picturing it longer. "It looks good," he decided. Maybe he'd doodle it later.

…Another sigh. He rested his face in the crook of Jack's neck again, a familiar feeling gesture. What was he doing here? How was he having some form of casual conversation? This was all wrong, wrong, wrong. Disgusting, playing at domestic like this. Val could leave. He could get out right now, and Jack couldn't do shit about it, maybe wouldn't even try to. Val could break everything off if he wanted to, it'd be easy, ridiculously so. He'd made promises, taken it upon himself to ruin things, but this. Hadn't he only ruined himself, acting how he had, saying what he did?

What did he even have to lose, though? Val turned that over for a second, lingering on it. A fair point. More of his own dignity, he supposed, and yet. And yet.

Wasn't any worse than being in the mansion, or the hospital. At least… at least there was more entertainment. Even if the attention Jack gave him almost made him feel smaller sometimes. He was so warm, and he barely had to say or do anything to get across this level of, of. Overwhelming. Who was the more needy one, really, between the two of them?

Val wanted to take it all in. All the warmth and feeling, make it his own, a greedy, agitated feeling that clawed at his chest.

Val decided he needed to leave a mark on Jack, simply to vent his restless feelings and possessiveness, and was already in the right spot to do so. He tilted his face up and pressed mouth and teeth to skin.

Then he leaned back and shrugged, finally deigning to answer the other's first question. "You don't have to, but maybe you could help me take a shower?"

Valentine initiated things again. The softness wasn't just because of his current weak health, it was… everything. And it was very different than anything he'd experienced. He'd been gentle before, or at least some imitation of it, with pretty girls that he hadn't wanted to scare away so quickly.

Real affection, though, he wasn't quite sure how to handle. His movements were slow and deliberate, not hurrying, sentiment clinging to him like a new and far too visible illness. One he wasn't sure if he welcomed or not yet, but that he couldn't help trying to.

His hands shook, sometimes. And it was okay to wait until they stopped, it didn't all have to happen at once. The water was warm, and so was Jack. Val tried not to think too much, as he knew it would hold him back, bring fear into the odd comforts that'd presented themselves to him in his ugly life.

And he was scared. Terrified. Jack hadn't left yet, though. He hadn't left.

For that genuine kindness, Val tried. He hadn't tried in a long time, with anything.

After, he sat on the bathroom counter, cheeks pink, wrapped in a towel, sharp edged body in a haze of steam. He had a stolen toothbrush stuck in his mouth, and he made eye contact with himself in the mirror instead of looking elsewhere. Mostly because he was as fucking flustered as a teenager after their first time- and even mentally equating himself to that was screwing him up all over again.

Don't. Don't think so much (even if that was intensely difficult). Just be here. In Jack's bathroom, using his toothbrush after having vanilla shower sex, blushing at yourself in his mirror because that was better than looking at him directly and being shy.

(What the fuck.)

This was terrible. The worst. Valentine couldn't stop his face's betrayal in the form of being so flushed and heated at all. This blatant, offensive self sabotage had to stop.

Val opened his mouth to say something scathing.

"I'm okay," he said instead, voice small but light. Nervous and happy energy. "You didn't strain me, I wanted-" His eyes fluttered shut, a squirming in his stomach returning with fervor at his ear being nuzzled. And really, what the hell, they'd literally just… but it wasn't only that, somehow.

He felt. Dizzy? Among other things, but they weren't his usual symptoms. They were similar, though, in a way, to a disease. There wasn't any pain- not past a dull ache in his chest, but that had been lingering since last night. It was mostly overwhelming. A buzz, a haze, in his head, along with obsession that demanded his focus. All sorts of mess in his stomach, the squirming then lightness then squirming again, or at the same time. And it hardly made any fucking sense that one could be endlessly heavy and full of energy in the same breath. Oh, no no no, no…

Sick.

He didn't know what was happening, but he still felt like he was doing something… he wasn't supposed to do. Something others would point and laugh at him for, or hurt him, because he wasn't supposed… to be… or was it 'even able to be'? They didn't like it when he tried to be like them. Panic threatened to swallow Val up, but Jack was still holding him. He hadn't left yet.

Confusion. Fondness. Jack. Fear was of secondary importance, in comparison to these things.

And then, before he knew it and could only give a- a noise, in response, Jack had picked him up again. This really was becoming a common occurrence. Val wasn't opposed, exactly (although he could've used a warning first). More chances to press his face and hands against Jack's skin and... fuck.

He'd been awful. Why was Jack like this with him? He didn't have to be, just to get off on being treated like garbage. In fact, it seemed almost counter productive. To stay, even when Val wasn't doing what he'd at least thought Jack wanted from him. To keep doing things that made Val's chest, no, his entire body sing.

He didn't understand, and this wasn't something he was about to ask about out loud, however desperately he wanted an answer.

Val waited patiently, flopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, avoiding Jack's stupid bright grin. He snatched the offered clothes, but then just, awkwardly held them to his chest while he laid back. Why the hell should he hesitate to change in front of Jack? They'd fucked like ten minutes ago. This was absurd.

He forced himself to put on the clothes, in quick and detached motions with still pink cheeks. He then set the towel aside, ran his fingers through his hair, mumbling a spell under his breath to get it dry and nice, magic flowing out and tickling a bit. Finally settled on the bed again.

Jack was hovering about expectantly. Val looked at the man for a moment, then patted the spot on the bed beside him. "Well. If you don't have anywhere to go, then…?" He was still quiet, but a little more neutral sounding now, at least. As outwardly 'normal' as he could get.

Valentine hummed and leaned into the tiny kisses, mind going blank again. He then blinked slowly, reaching up and curving his smaller, thinner fingers over Jack's. Val tugged. "I was the one who asked," he said. "Please, stay."

He smiled at the idea of Jack being the one who was too much, between the two of them.

"Talking sounds like a good way to pass the time." He kept watching Jack, intent. He knew Jack, but he didn't know him. He'd used his powers to brush up against intimate things that nobody was supposed to hear out loud. Suffering, a need for death, the feeling of being so, so very old. All sorts of powerful things relating to that man, pain as well as passion. More casual things were a blur.

Val wasn't sure how that could be so lonely, but… it was how he was with everyone, he realized. He never bothered to find out anyone's little details, not past a clinical or momentary need sense, and what they wanted to be along with that they were. It wasn't important.

Jack's art was beautiful. He drank too much. His hair was getting long because of school stress (and Val really did like it). He was kind of a major dork. He was too nice to Val, and hadn't left yet.

"Our date was a bit of a thrill ride, wasn't it?" Val mumbled. "Never really continued… the getting to know you thing. That's what you're supposed to do, right?"